Isa. Asleep so soon! Oh, happy, happy thou,
Who thus can sleep! I never shall sleep more
If then to sleep be to be happy, he,
Who sleeps the longest, is the happiest :
Death is the longest sleep-Oh, have a care!
Mischief will thrive apace.-Never wake more.
[To BIRON.

If thou didst ever love thy Isabella,
To-morrow must be doomsday to thy peace.
The sight of him disarms even death itself.
The starting transport of new quickening life
Gives just such hopes: and pleasure grows again
With looking on him-Let me look my last-
But is a look enough for parting love!
Sure I may take a kiss-Where am I going!
Help, help me, Villeroy! Mountains and seas
Divide your love, never to meet my shame!

[Throws herself upon the floor; after a short pause she raises herself upon her elbow. What will this battle of the brain do with me! This little ball, this ravaged province, long Cannot maintain-The globe of earth wants

room

And food for such a war-I find I am going-
Famine, plagues, and flames,

Wide waste and desolation, do your work
Upon the world, and then devour yourselves!
The scene shifts fast-[She rises]-and now 'tis
better with me;

Conflicting passions have at last unhinged
The great machine! the soul itself seems changed!
Oh, 'tis a happy revolution here!
The reasoning faculties are all deposed,
Judgment, and understanding, common-sense,
Driven out as traitors to the public peace.
Now I am revenged upon my memory!
Her seat dug up, where all the images
Of a long mis-spent life were rising still,
To glare a sad reflection of my crimes,

And stab a conscience through them! You are

safe,

You monitors of mischief! What a change!
Better and better still! This is the infant state
Of innocence, before the birth of care.
My thoughts are smooth as the Elysian plains,
Without a rub: the drowsy falling streams
Invite me to their slumbers.

Would I were landed there

[Sinks into a chair. What noise was that? A knocking at the gate! It may be Villeroy- -No matter who.

Bir. Come, Isabella, come.

Isa. Hark! I am called!

Bir. You stay too long from me.
Isa. A man's voice! in my bed!
he there?
Nothing but villany in this bad world!

How came,

[Rises.

Coveting neighbours' goods, or neighbours' wives: Here's physic for your fever.

[Draws a dagger, and goes backward to the couch.] Breathing a vein is the old remedy. If husbands go to heaven,

Where do they go that send them?-This to try

[Just going to stab him, he rises; she knows him, and shrieks.]

What do I see!

Bir. Isabella, armed!

Isu. Against my husband's life!

Who, but the wretch, most reprobate to grace, Despair e'er hardened for damnation,

Could think of such a deed-Murder my hus band!

Bir. Thou didst not think it.

Isa. Madness has brought me to the gates of
hell,

And there has left me. Oh, the frightful change
Of my distractions! Or is this interval
Of reason but to aggravate my woes,
To drive the horror back with greater force
Upon my soul, and fix me mad for ever?

Bir. Why dost thou fly me so?

Isa. I cannot bear his sight; distraction, come, Possess me all, and take me to thyself! Shake off thy chains, and hasten to my aid; Thou art my only cure-Like other friends, He will not come to my necessities; Then I must go to find the tyrant outWhich is the nearest way?

[Running out. Bir. Poor Isabella! she's not in a condition To give me any comfort, if she could: Lost to herself--as quickly I shall be To all the world--Horrors come fast around

me.

They surround him, fighting; VILLEROY enters with two servants; they rescue him; CARLOS and his party fly.

Vil. How are you, sir? Mortally hurt, I fear. Take care, and lead him in.

Bir. I thank you for this goodness, sir; though 'tis

Bestowed upon a very wretch; and death, Though from a villain's hand, had been to me An act of kindness, and the height of mercy'But I thank you, sir. [He is led in.

SCENE IV.-The Inside of the House.

Enter ISABella.

Vil. I am thy loving husband.

[Weeping.

Isa. I have none; no husband Never had but one, and he died at Candy! Did he not? I am sure you told me so; you, Or somebody, with just such a lying look, As you have now. Speak, did he not die there? Vil. He did, my life.

Isa. But swear it, quickly swear,

BIRON enters bloody, and leaning upon his sword.

Before that screaming evidence appears,
In bloody proof against me-

[She, seeing BIRON, swoons in a chair; VILLEROY helps her.

Vil. Help there! Nurse, where are you? Ha! I am distracted too!

plague!

dare

To think of living on; my desperate hand
In a mad rage may offer it again.

Stab me any where but there. Here's room

enough

In my own breast, to act the fury in,
The proper scene of mischief. Villeroy comes;
Villeroy and Biron come! Oh! hide me from
them-

They rack, they tear; let them carve out my limbs,

Divide my body to their equal claims!
My soul is only Biron's; that is free,
And thus I strike for him and liberty.

[Going to stab herself, VILLEROY runs in and prevents her, by taking the dagger from her. Vil. Angels defend and save thee! Attempt thy precious life! the treasury Of nature's sweets! life of my little world! Lay violent hands upon thy innocent self!

Isa. Swear I am innocent, and I'll believe you. What would you have with me? Pray let me go. Are you there, sir! You are the very man Have done all this-You would have made Me believe you married me; but the fool Was wiser, I thank you: 'tis not all gospel You men preach upon that subject.

Vil. Dost thou not know me, love?

Isa. O yes: very well. [Staring on him. You are the widow's comforter, that marries Any woman when her husband's out of the way: But I'll never, never take your word again.

[Kisses her. Vil. A kiss! Confusion! It must be your last.

[Draws.

Bir. I know it must-Here I give up that death

You but delayed: since what is past has been The work of fate, thus we must finish it. Thrust home, be sure.

[Faints.

Vil. Alas! he faints: some help there!
Bir. 'Tis all in vain, my sorrows soon will
end.

Oh, Villeroy! let a dying wretch entreat you
To take this letter to my father. My Isabella!
Could'st thou but hear me, my last words should

bless thee.

ISABELLA comes to herself.

Isa. Where have I been? Methinks I stand upon

The brink of life, ready to shoot the gulph,
That lies between me and the realms of rest,
But still, detained, I cannot pass the strait;
Denied to live, and yet I must not die;
Doomed to come back, like a complaining ghost,
To my unburied body-here it lies-

[Throws herself by BIRON's body.

My body, soul, and life. A little dust,
To cover our cold limbs in the dark grave-
There, there we shall sleep safe and sound to-
gether.

Enter VILLEROY, with Servants.

Vil Poor wretch! upon the ground! She's not herself:

Remove her from the body.

[Servants going to raise her.

Isa. Never, neverYou have divorced us once, but shall no moreHelp, help me, Biron! Ha! bloody and dead! Oh, murder! murder! you have done this deed; Vengeance and murder! bury us togetherDo any thing but part us.

Vil. Gently, gently raise her. She must be forced away.

[She drags the body after her: they get her into their arms, and carry her off. Isa. Oh, they tear me! Cut off my handsLet me leave something with himThey'll clasp him fast

Oh, cruel, cruel men!

This you must answer one day.

Vil. Good nurse, take care of her.

[Nurse follows her.

Send for all helps: all, all that I am worth,

Shall cheaply buy her peace of mind again. Be sure you do,

Just as I ordered you.

I am prepared for it.

[To a Servant.

The storm grows louder. [Knocking at the door.

Now let them in.

Enter Count BALDWIN, CARLOS, Belford, Friends, with Servants.

C. Bald. Oh, do I live to this unhappy day! Where is my wretched son?

Car. Where is my brother?

But I must say that you have murdered him;
And will say nothing else, till justice draws
Upon our side, at the loud call of blood,
To execute so foul a murderer.

Bel. Poor Biron! Is this thy welcome home!
Fr. Rise, sir; there is a comfort in revenge,
Which yet is left you.
[To C. BALD.
Car. Take the body hence. [BIRON carried off.
C. Bald. What could provoke you?
Vil. Nothing could provoke me

To a base murder, which, I find, you think
Me guilty of. I know my innocence;
My servants too can witness that I drew
My sword in his defence, to rescue him.
Bel. Let thy servants be called.
Fr. Let us hear what they can say.
Car. What they can say! Why, what should
servants say?

They're his accomplices, his instruments,
And will not charge themselves. If they could do
A murder for his service, they can lie,

Lie nimbly, and swear hard to bring him of-
You say you drew your sword in his defence:
Who were his enemies? Did he need defence?
Had he wronged any one? Could he have cause
To apprehend a danger, but from you?
And yet you rescued him! No, no, he came
Unseasonably (that was all his crime),
Unluckily to interrupt your sport:

You were new married-married to his wife;
And therefore you, and she, and all of you,
(For all of you I must believe concerned)
Combined to murder him out of the way.
Bel. If it is so-

Car. It can be only so.

Fr. Indeed it has a face

Car. As black as hell.

C. Bald. The law will do me justice: send for the magistrate.

Car. I'll go myself for him

[Exit.

Vil. These strong presumptions, I must own,

indeed,

Are violent against me; but I have
A witness, and on this side heaven too.
-Open that door.

[Door opens, and PEDRO is brought forward by VILLEROY'S servants. Here's one can tell you all.

Ped. All, all; save me but from the rack, I'll

Vil. I hope in heaven.

Car. Canst thou pity!

Wish him in Heaven, when thou hast done a

deed,

That must forever cut thee from the hopes
Of ever coming there?

Vil. I do not blame you

You have a brother's right to be concerned
For his untimely death.

Car. Untimely death, indeed!

Vil. But yet you must not say I was the cause. Car. Not you the cause! Why, who should murder him?

We do not ask you to accuse yourself.

Vil. You and your accomplices designed To murder Biron?

Ped. We did.

-Speak.

Vil. Did you engage upon your private wrongs, Or were employed?

Ped. He never did us wrong.

Vil. You were set on, then?

Ped. We were set on.

Vil. What do you know of me?

Ped. Nothing, nothing:

You saved his life, and have discovered me.
Vil. He has acquitted me.

If you would be resolved of any thing,
He stands upon his answer.

Bel. Who set you on to act this horrid deed? C. Bald. I'll know the villain; give me quick his name,

Or I will tear it from thy bleeding heart!
Ped. I will confess.

C. Bald. Do then.

Ped. It was my master, Carlos, your own son. C. Bald. Oh, monstrous! monstrous! most unnatural!

Bel. Did he employ you to murder his own brother?

Ped. He did; and he was with us when 'twas done.

C. Bald. If this be true, this horrid, horrid tale,

It is but just upon me: Biron's wrongs
Must be revenged: and I the cause of all!
Fr. What will you do with him?
C. Bald. Take him apart-

I know too much.

[PEDRO goes in.

Vil. I had forgot-Your wretched, dying son Gave me this letter for you.

[Gives it to BALDWIN.

I dare deliver it. It speaks of me,

I pray to have it read.

C. Bald. You know the hand.
Bel. I know 'tis Biron's hand.
C. Bald. Pray, read it.

[BELFORD reads the letter.

'SIR, 'I find I am come only to lay my death at your door. I am now going out of the world; but cannot forgive you, nor my brother Carlos, for not hindering my poor wife Isabella from marrying with Villeroy; when you knew, from so many letters, that I was alive.

BIRON.'

Vil. How!-Did you know it, then?
C. Bald. Amazement all!

Enter CARLOS, with Officers.

Oh, Carlos! are you come? Your brother here,
Here, in a wretched letter, lays his death
To you and me-Have done
you any thing
To hasten his sad end?

Car. Bless me, sir, I do any thing! Who, I?
C. Bald. He talks of letters that were sent to us;
I never heard of any. Did you know
He was alive?

Car. Alive! Heaven knows, not I.

C. Bald. Had you no news of him, from a report, Or letter, never?

C. Bald. What did those answers say? Bel. I cannot speak to the particulars; But I remember well, the sum of them Was much the same, and all agreed, That there was nothing to be hoped from you: That 'twas your barbarous resolution To let him perish there.

C. Bald. Oh, Carlos! Carlos! hadst thou been a brother—————

Car. This is a plot upon me. I never knew He was in slavery, or was alive,

Or heard of him, before this fatal hour.

Bel. There, sir, I must confront you. He sent you a letter, to my knowledge, last night;

And you sent him word you would come to him. I fear you came too soon.

C. Bald. 'Tis all too plain.Bring out that wretch before him.

[PEDRO produced. Car. Ha! Pedro there!-Then I am caught

indeed!

Bel. You start at sight of him;

He has confessed the bloody deed.

Car. Well, then, he has confessed, And I must answer it.

Bel. Is there no more?

Car. Why, what would you have more? I know the worst,

And I expect it.

C. Bald. Why hast thou done all this?
Car. Why, that which damns most men has
ruined me;

The making of my fortune. Biron stood
Between me and your favour; while he lived,
I had not that; hardly was thought a son,
And not at all a-kin to your estate.
I could not bear a younger brother's lot,
To live depending upon courtesy
Had you provided for me like a father,
I had been still a brother.

C. Buld. 'Tis too true!

I never loved thee, as I should have done:
It was my sin, and I am punished for it.
Oh! never may distinction rise again
In families; let parents be the same
To all their children; common in their care,
And in their love of them-I am unhappy,
For loving one too well.

Vil. You knew your brother lived; why did you take

Such pains to marry me to Isabella?
Cur. I had my reasons for't-

Vil. More than I thought you had.
Car. But one was this-

I knew my brother loved his wife so well,
That if he ever should come home again,
He could not long outlive the loss of her.

Bel. If you relied on that, why did you kill
him?

Car. To make all sure. Now, you are answered all.

Where must I go? I am tired of your questions. C. Bald. I leave the judge to tell thee what thou art;

A father cannot find a name for thee.
But parricide is highest treason, sure,
To sacred nature's law; and must be so,
So sentenced in thy crimes. Take him away-
The violent remedy is found at last,
That drives thee out, thou poison of my blood,
Infected long, and only found in thee.

[CARLOS led off. Grant me, sweet Heaven! the patience to go through

The torment of my cure-Here, here begins
The operation-Alas! she's mad.

Enter ISABELLA distracted, held by her Women; hair dishevelled; her little Son running in before, being afraid of her.

Vil. My Isabella! poor unhappy wretch! What can I say to her?

Isa. Nothing, nothing; 'tis a babbling world— I'll hear no more on't. When does the court

powers

To witness how you use me.

Wom. Help, help, we cannot hold her.
Vil. You but enrage her more.

C. Bald. Pray, give her way; she'll hurt no-
body.

Isa. What have you done with him? He was here but now;

I saw him here. Oh! Biron, Biron! where, Where have they hid thee from me? He is gone

But here's a little flaming cherubim▬▬
Child. Oh, save me, save me!

[Running to Baldwin. Isa. The Mercury of Heaven, with silver wings,

Impt for the flight, to overtake his ghost,
And bring him back again!

Child. I fear she'll kill me.

C. Bald. She will not hurt thee.

[She flings away. Isa. Will nothing do? I did not hope to find Justice on earth; 'tis not in heaven neither. Biron has watched his opportunitySoftly; he steals it from the sleeping gods, And sends it thus[Stabs herself.

C. Bald. If the most tender father's care and love

Of thee, and thy poor child, can make amends— Oh, yet look up and live!

Isa. Where is that little wretch?

[They raise her. I die in peace, to leave him to your care. I have a wretched mother's legacy, A dying kiss-pray let me give it himMy blessing; that, that's all I have to leave thee. Oh, may thy father's virtues live in thee, And all his wrongs be buried in my grave!

[Dies.

Vil. She's gone, and all my joys of life with
her!-

Where are your officers of justice now?
Seize, bind me, drag me to the bloody bar!
Accuse, condemn me; let the sentence reach
My hated life- -No matter how it comes;
I'll think it just, and thank you as it falls.
Self-murder is denied me; else how soon
Could I be past the pain of my remembrance!
But I must live, grow grey with lingering grief,
To die at last in telling this sad tale.

C. Bald. Poor wretched orphan of most wretched parents! 'Scaping the storm, thou'rt thrown upon a rock,

To perish there. The very rocks would melt,
Soften their nature, sure, to foster thee;
I find it by myself: my flinty heart,
That barren rock, on which thy father starved,
Opens its springs of nourishment to thee.
There's not a vein but shall run milk for thee.
Oh, had I pardoned my poor Biron's fault,
His first, his only fault-this had not been!
To erring youth there's some compassion due;
But while with rigour you their crimes pursue,
What's their misfortune, is a crime for you.
Hence, learn offending children to forgive:
Leave punishment to Heaven-'tis Heaven's pre-
rogative.
[Exeunt omnes,

VOL. I.

2 H