Stand forth, my children-Hymen, join their hands, [A flourish of trumpets; they kneel, and HYMEN joins their hands. Tis Wisdom consecrates the sacred bands. SONG-HYMEN. Sweetest pleasures never ceasing, And when old Time, with solemn pace, Abu. What then, is all my greatness come to this? Am I then baffled by a paltry Miss? Lean. O thanks, eternal thanks, to you be given, Thou best and brightest ornament of Heaven! Min. Now strike the sprightly lyre; all care Hymen says he'll have it so. Hero. Take my hand, you have my heart, Chorus. Joy and pleasure, &c. Saf. Once he tried on me his bow; Till Hymen said he'd have it so. Chorus. Joy and pleasure, &c. Must I then give up the fair, The devil sure would have it so. Observe, ye fair, the moral here— Let virtue in your bosoms glow, You then may bid adieu to tearHymen says he'll have it so. Chorus. Joy and pleasure, &c. ISABELLA: OR, THE FATAL MARRIAGE: A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS. BY THOMAS SOUTHERN. REMARKS. THIS tragedy was restored to the stage, after a long period of neglect, by Garrick, who made many judicions alterations, and omitted some comic scenes, which it must be confessed were not well adapted to the moral taste of the age. In 1774, that inimitable actor appeared in the part of Biron, and contributed to the success of this excellent drama, which it was reserved for our own day to render irresistible and memorable, by the introduction of Mrs. Siddons to a London audience. That unrivalled mistress of the heart gave a pathos and importance to Isabella, which it had not before received; and Miss O'Neil's impassioned and native excellence, in her late personation of the character, will entitle her to a situation in Thespian annals, not far removed from her great predecessor. Of the ten plays written by Southern, Isabella and Oroonoko keep their place on the modern stage. SCENE I-The Street. Enter VILLEROY and CARLOS. Car. This constancy of yours will establish an immortal reputation among the women. Vil. If it would establish me with IsabellaCar. Follow her, follow her: Troy town was won at last. Vil. I have followed her these seven years, and now but live in hopes. Car. But live in hopes! Why, hope is the ready road, the lover's baiting place; and for aught you know, but one stage short of the pos session of your mistress. Vil. But my hopes, I fear, are more of my own making than hers; and proceed rather from my wishes, than any encouragement she has given me. Car. That I can't tell: the sex is very various: there are no certain measures to be prescribed or followed, in making our approaches to the women, All that we have to do, I think, is to attempt them in the weakest part. Press them but hard, and they will all fall under the necessity of a surrender at last. That favour comes at once; and sometimes when we least expect it. Vil. I'm going to visit her. Car. What interest a brother-in-law can have with her, depend upon. Vil. I know your interest, and I thank you. Car. You are prevented; see, the mourner comes: She weeps, as seven years were seven hours; [Exit VILLEROY. Though I have taken care to root her from our house, I would transplant her into Villeroy's- Perhaps, at last, she seeks my father's doors; [Exit. Isa. I must not hear you. Vil. Thus, at this awful distance, I have serv'd Of seeing you, without this pleasing pain: Isa. Oh, I have heard all this! -But must no more the charmer is no My buried husband rises in the face [more Of my dear boy, and chides me for my stay: Canst thou forgive me, child? Vil. What can I say? 'The arguments that make against my hopes | And more engage my love, to make you mire: Isa. Nay, then I must be gone. If you are my If you regard my little interest, I'm going to my father: he needs not an excuse Vil. I'm only born to be what you would have Samp. Well, what's to do now, I trow? You knock as loud as if you were invited; and that's more than I heard of; but I can tell you, you may look twice about you for a welcome in a great man's family, before you find it, unless you bring it along with you. Is Isa. I hope I do, Sir. Isa. Count Baldwin lives here still? Samp. Ay, ay, Count Baldwin does live here; and I am his porter; but what's that to the pur pose, good woman, of my lord's being at home? Isa. Why, don't you know me, friend? Samp. Not I, not I, Mistress; I may have seen you before, or so; but men of employment must forget their acquaintance; especially such as we are never to be the better for. [Going to shut the door. Enter NURSE. Nurse. Handsomer words should become you, and mend your manners, Sampson; do you know who you prate to? Isa. I am glad you know me, Nurse. Nurse. Marry, Heaven forbid, Madam, that I should ever forget you, or my little jewel: pray go in. [ISABELLA goes in with her Child.] Now my blessing go along with you, wherever you go, or whatever you are about. Fie, Sampson, how couldst thou be such a Saracen? A Turk would have been a better Christian, than to have done so barbarously by so good a lady. Samp. Why, look you, Nurse, I know you of old: by your good will, you would have a finger in every body's pye; but mark the end on't. If I am called to account about it, I know what I have to say. Nurse. Marry come up here; say your plea sure, and spare not. Refuse his eldest son's widow and poor child the comfort of seeing him? She does not trouble him so often. Samp. Not that I am against it, Nurse, but we are but servants, you know; we must have no likings, but our lord's, and must do as we are orJered. But what is the business, Nurse? You have been in the family before I came into the world: what's the reason, pray, that this daughter-in-law, who has so good a report in every body's mouth, is so little set by, by my lord? Nurse. Why, I tell you, Sampson, more or less: I'll tell the truth, that's my way, you know, without adding or diminishing. Samp. Ay, marry, Nurse. Nurse. My lord's eldest son, Biron by name, the son of his bosom, and the son that he would have loved best, if he had as many as king Pyramus of Troy-this Biron, as I was saying, was a lovely sweet gentleman, and, indeed, nobody could blame his father for loving him: he was a son for the king of Spain; Heaven bless him! for I was his nurse. But now I come to the point, Sampson; this Biron, without asking the advice of his friends, hand over head, as young men will have their vagaries, not having the fear of his father before his eyes, as I may say, wilfully marries this Isabella. Samp. How, wilfully! he should have had her consent, methinks. Nurse. No, wilfully marries her; and which was worse, after she had settled all her fortune upon a nunnery, which she broke out of to run away with him. They say they had the church's forgiveness, but I had rather it had been his father's. Samp. Why, in good truth, and I think our young master was not in the wrong but in marrying without a portion. Nurse. That was the quarrel, I believe, Sampson: upon this my old lord would never see him: disinherited him: took his younger brother, Carlos, into favour, whom he never cared for before: and, at last, forced Biron to go to the siege of Candy, where he was killed. Samp. Alack a-day, poor gentleman! Nurse. For which my old lord hates her, as if she had been the cause of his going thither. Samp Alas, poor lady! she has suffered for it; she has lived a great while a widow ! Nurse. A great while indeed, for a young woman, Sampson. Samp. Gad so here they come; I won't ven[They retire. ture to be seen. I fondly rais'd, through my declining life, C. Bald. Speak it again; Isa. Would my ruin please you? C. Bald. I pray'd but for revenge, and Heaven And sent it to my wishes: these gray hairs I lost with Biron all the joys of life: Your perjur'd vows; your plighted, broken faith Isa. There, there, began my woes. C. Bald. Your own inconstancy Isa. Not for myself-for I am past the hopes C. Bald. I almost pity the unhappy child: Isa. Look on him as your son's; C. Bald. It touches me And I will save him-But to keep him safe, Isa. What! take him from me! I live but in my child. No, let me pray in vain, and beg my bread C. Bald. Then have your child, and feed him Isa. Then Heaven have mercy on me! [Exit, with Child. C. Bald. You rascal, slave, what do I keep you for? How came this woman in ? Samp. Why, indeed, my lord, I did as good as tell her before, my thoughts upon the matterC. Bald. Did you so, Sir! Now then tell her mine; Tell her I sent you to her. Begone, go all together-I shall be glad to hear of you; but never, never, see me more[Drives them off. ACT II. SCENE I-The Street. Enter VILLEROY and CARLOS, meeting. Vil. My friend, I fear to ask-but IsabellaThe lovely widow's tears, her orphan's cries, Thy father must feel for them-No, I read, I read their cold reception in thine eyesThou pitiest them-though Baldwin-but I spare him For Carlos' sake; thou art no son of his. Vil. Advantage! think not I intend to raise Car. Why, so I mean. These hardships, that my father lays upon her, From her prosperity, her change of fortune Vil. She is above her fortune. Car. Try her again. Women commonly love According to the circumstances they are in. Vil. Common women may- Of what I wish, than have the blessing mine, me, I know to value the unequall'd gift: I would not have it but to value it. SCENE II-House. ISABELLA and NURSE diccovered. ISABELLA'S 80% at play. Isa. Sooner or later, all things pass away, And are no more. The beggar and the king, With equal steps, tread forward to their end: The reconciling grave Swallows distinction first, that made us foes; Then all alike lie down in peace together. [Weeping Nurse. Good Madam, be comforted." Isa. Do I deserve to be this outcast wretch; Abandon'd thus, and lost? But 'tis my lot, The will of Heaven, and I must not complain: I will not for myself: let me bear all The violence of your wrath; but spare my child Let not my sins be visited on him: They are; they must: a general ruin falls On every thing about me! thou art lost, Poor Nurse, by being near me. Nurse. I can work, or beg, to do you service. What I have been, I might the better bear Enter SAMPSON. Samp. Why, truly, very little to the purpose like a Jew as he is, he says you have had more already than the jewels are worth: he wishes you would rather think of redeeming 'em, than expect any more money upon 'em. [Exit. Isa. So:-Poverty at home, and debts abroad! My present fortune bad; my hopes yet worse! What will become of me? This ring is all I have left of value now; Manage it as the last remaining friend Where we shall find another-My dear boy! Enter NURSE. Nurse. Oh, Madam! you are utterly ruined and undone; your creditors of all kinds are come Car. Take your own way; remember what I in upon you; they have mustered up a regiment offer'd. of rogues, that are come to plunder your house, and seize upon all you have in the world: they are below. What will you do, Madam? Isa. Do nothing! no, for I am born to suffer Enter CARLOS. Car. Oh, sister! can I call you by that name. And be the son of this inhuman man, Inveterate to your ruin? Can you think Of any way that I can serve you in? |