« ZurückWeiter »
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,
Blessings, which the gods present,
Rosy health, and sweet content,
Shall call to tell them, both must die;
Sweetest pleasures, &c. Abu. What then, is all my greatness come to
this? Am I then baffled by a paltry Miss ? Your power, Madam, certainly prevails; Wisdom, 1 find, pays no respect to tails. Lean. O thanks, eternal thanks, to you be
given, Thou best and brightest ornament of Heaven! Min. Now strike the sprightly lyre; all care
Beauty's triumph is to day;
This is Hymen's holiday.
Hymen says he'll have it so. Hero. Take my hand, you have my heart,
Indeed, you've had it long ago;
Aymen says he'll have it so.
Once he tried on me his bow;
Till Hymen said he'd have it so.
And see them laughing at my wo; Live and lead a life of care ?
The devil sure would have it so. Chorus. Joy and pleasure, &c. Sol. Observe, ye fair, the moral here
Let virtue in your bosoms glow, You then may bid adieu to tear
Hymen says he'll have it so. Chorus. Joy and pleasure, &c.
THE FATAL MARRIAGE:
IN FIVE ACTS.
BY THOMAS SOUTHERN.
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 ez. cellent 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 palhos 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 oredecessor.
of the ten plays written by Southern, Isabella and Oroonoko keep their place on the modern stage.
Car. But live in hopes! Why, hope is the
ready road, the lover's baiting place; and for SCENE I.— The Street,
aught you know, but one stage short of the pos Enter VILLEROY and CARLOS.
session of your mistress.
Vil. But my hopes, I fear, are more of my own Car. This constancy of yours will establish an making than hers; and proceed rather from my immortal reputation among the women.
wishes, than any encouragement she has given Vil. If it would establish me with Isabella
Car. Follow her, follow her: Troy town was Car. That I can't tell : the sex is very various: won at last.
there are no certain measures to be prescribed or Vil. I have followed her these seven years, and followed, in making our approaches to the women, now but live in hopes.
All that we have to do, I think, is to attempt them
in the weakest part. Press them but hard, and | And more engage my love, to make you mine: they will all fall under the necessity of a surren- When yet a virgin, free, and undispos'd, der at last. That favour comes at once; and I lov'd, but saw you only with mine eyes; sometimes when we least expect it.
I could not reach the beauties of your soul : Vil. I'm going to visit her.
I have since liv'd in contemplation, Car. What interest a bro er-in-law can have And long experience, of your growing goodness: with her, depend upon.
What then was passion, is my judgment now, Vil. I know your interest, and I thank you. Through all the several changes of your life, Car. You are prevented; see, the mourner Confirm'd and settled in adorning you.
Isa. Nay, then I must be gone. If you are my She weeps, as seven years were seven hours;
friend, So fresh, unfading, is the memory
If you regard my little interest, Of my poor brother Biron's death:
No more of this. I leave you to your opportunity.
I'm going to my father: he needs not an excuse
[Exit VILLEROY. To use me ill : pray leave me to the trial. Though I have taken care to root her from our Vil. I'm only born to be what you would have house,
me, I would transplant her into Villeroy's
The creature of your power, and must obey, There is an evil fate that waits upon her, In every thing obey you. I am going : To which I wish him wedded-only him; But all good fortune go along with you. His upstart family, with haughty brow,
Isa. I shall need all (Though Villeroy and myself are seeming friends,)
(Knocks. Look down upon our house ; his sister too,
Lock'd! and fast !
At great men's doors,
(Exit. Enter Villeroy and Isabella, with her Child. knock as loud as if you were invited; and that's
Samp. Well, what's to do now, I trow? You Isa. Why do you follow me ? you know I am
more than I heard of; but I can tell you, you may A bankrupt every way; too far engag'd
look twice about you for a welcome in a great Ever to make return: I own you have been
man's fainily, before you find it, unless you bring More than a brother to me, my friend:
it along with you. And at a time when friends are found no more,
Isa, I hope I do, Sir. A friend to my misfortunes.
Is your lord at home ? Vil. I must be
Samp. My lord at home! Always your friend.
Isa. Count Baldwin lives here still ? Isa. I have known and found you
Samp. Ay, ay, Count Baldwin does live bere; Truly my friend: and would I could be yours;
and I am his porter ; but what 's that to the pur But the unfortunate cannot be friends :
pose, good woman, of my lord's being at home ? Pray begone,
Isa. Why, don't you know me, friend? Take warning, and be happy.
Samp. Not I, not I, Mistress ; I may have seen Vil. Happiness !
you before, or so; but men of employment must There's none for me without you.
forget their acquaintance; especially such as we What serve the goods of fortune for? To raise are never to be the better for. My hopes, that you at last will share them with
(Going to shut the door.
Enter NURSE. Isa. I must not hear you.
Vil. Thus, at this awful distance, I have serv'd Nurse. Handsomer words should become you, A seven years' bondage-Do I call it bondage, and mend your manners, Sampson; do you know When I can never wish to be redeem'd ? who you prate to ? No, let me rather linger out a life
Isa. I am glad you know me, Nurse. Of expectation, that you may be mine,
Nurse. Marry, Heaven forbid, Madam, that I Than be restor’d to the indifference
should ever forget you, or my little jewel : pray go Of seeing you, without this pleasing pain : in. (ISABELLA goes in with her Child.) Now my I've lost myself
, and never would be found, blessing go along with you, wherever you go, or But in these arms.
whatever you are about. Fie, Sampson, how Isa. Oh, I have heard all this!
couldst thou be such a Saracen? A Turk would - But must no more the charmer is no have been a better Christian, than to have done My buried husband rises in the face (more : so barbarously by so good a lady. Of my dear boy, and chides me for my stay: Samp. Why, look you, Nurse, I know you of Canst thou forgive me, child?
old: by your good will
, you would have a finger Vil. What can I say?
in every body's pye; but mark the end on't. If The arguments that make against my hopes I am called to account about it, I know what I Prevail upon my heart, and fix me more ;
have to say: Those pious tears, you hourly throw away Nurse. "Marry come up here; say your ples Opon the grave, have all their quick’ning charms, sure, and spare not. Refuse his eldest son)
widow and poor child the comfort of seeing him ? C. Bald. Speak it again; She does not trouble him so often.
Say still you are undone; and I will hear you, Samp. Not that I am against it, Nurse, but we With pleasure hear you. are but servants, you know; we must have no Isa. Would my ruin please you ? likings, but our lord's, and must do as we are or C. Bald. Beyond all other pleasures. Jered. But what is the business, Nurse ? You Isa. Then you are pleas'd—for I am most unhave been in the family before I came into the
done. world : what's the reason, pray, that this daugh C. Bald. I pray'd but for revenge, and Heaven ter-in-law, who has so good a report in every
has heard, body's mouth, is so little set by, by my lord ? And sent it to my wishes: these gray hairs
Nurse. Why, I tell you, Sampson, more or Would have gone down in sorrow to the grave less : I'll tell the truth, that's my way, you know, Which you have dug for me, without the thought, without adding or diminishing.
The thought of leaving you more wretched here. Samp. Ay, marry, Nurse.
Isa. Indeed I am most wretched Nurse. My lord's eldest son, Biron by name, I lost with Biron all the joys of life: the son of his bosom, and the son that he would But now its last supporting means are gone. have loved best, if he had as many as king Pyra. All the kind helps that Heaven in pity rais'd, mus of Troy ;this Biron, as I was saying, was In charitable pity to our wants, a lovely sweet gentleman, and, indeed, nobody At last have left us : now bereft of all, could blame his father for loving him: he was a But this last trial of a cruel father, son for the king of Spain; Heaven bless him! for To save us both from sinking. Oh, my child, I was his nurse. But now I come to the point, Kneel with me, knock at nature in his heart: Sampson; this Biron, without asking the advice Let the resemblance of a once lov'd son of his friends, hand over head, as young men will Speak in this little one, who never wrong'd you, have their vagaries, not having the fear of his fa- And plead the fatherless and widow's cause. ther before his eyes, as I may say, wilfully marries Oh, if you ever hope to be forgiven, this Isabella.
Forget our faults, that Heaven may pardon yours xmp. How, wilfully! he should have had her C. Bald. How dare you mention Heaven! consent, methinks.
Call to mind Nurse. No, wilfully marries her; and which Your perjur'd vows; your plighted, broken faith was worse, after she had settled all her fortune To Heaven, and all things holy; were you not upon a nunnery, which she broke out of to run Devoted, wedded to a life recluse, away with him. They say they had the church's The sacred habit on, profess'd and sworn, forgiveness, but I had rather it had been his fa- A votary for ever ? Can you think ther's.
The sacrilegious wretch, that robs the shrine, Samp. Why, in good truth, and I think our Is thunder proof? young master was not in the wrong but in marry Isa. There, there, began my woes. ing without a portion.
Oh! had I never seen my Biron's face, Nurse. That was the quarrel, I believe, Samp Had he not tempted me, I had not fallen, son : upon this my old lord would never see him : But still continued innocent and free disinherited him: took his younger brother, Carlos, Of a bad world, which only he had power into favour, whom he never cared for before : and, To reconcile, and make me try again. at last, forced Biron to go to the siege of Candy,
C. Bald. Your own inconstancy where he was killed.
Reconcil'd you to the world :
Nurse. For which my old lord hates her, as if But what you gave him. Circe ! you prevail'd she had been the cause of his going thither. Upon his honest mind, transforming him
Samp. Alas, poor lady! she has suffered for it; From virtue, and himself, into what shapes she has lived a great while a widow !
You had occasion for; and what he did Nurse. A great while indeed, for a young Was first inspir'd by you. woman, Sampson.
Isa. Not for myself, for I am past the hopes Samp. Gad so! here they come; I won't ven- of being heard—but for this innocentture to be seen.
[They retire. And then I never will disturb you more.
C. Bald. I almost pity the unhappy child: Enter Count Baldwin, ISABELLA, and her
But, being yours.
Isa. Look on him as your son's;
And let this part in him answer for mine. C. Bald. Whoever of your friends directed you, Oh! save, defend him, save him from the wrongo Misguided and abus'd you.—There's your That fall upon the poor ! What could you expect from me ? (way: C. Bald. It touches me
Isa. Oh, I have nothing to expect on earth! And I will save him—But to keep him safe, But misery is very apt to talk :
Never come near him more. I thought I might be heard.
Isa. What! take him from me!
No, we must never part.
No, let me pray in vain, and beg my bread
C. Bald. Then have your child, and feed him I fondly rais'd, through my declining life,
with your prayer. To rest my age upon; and most undone me. Isa. Then Heaven have mercy on me ! Isa. I have undone myself too.
(Érit, with Chid.
C. Bald. You rascal, slave, what do I keep you
SCENE II.--House. for?
ISABELLA and NURSE diccovered. ISABELLA'S con How came this woman in ?
at play. Samp. Why, indeed, my lord, I did as good as tell ber before, my thoughts upon the matter- Isa. Sooner or later, all things pass away, C. Bald. Did you so, Sir! Now then tell her And are no more, The beggar and the king,
With equal steps, tread forward to their end : Tell her I sent you to her,
The reconciling grave Begone, go all together—I shall be glad to hear Swallows distinction first, that made us foes; of you; but never, never, see me more
Then all alike lie down in peace together, (Drives them off
(Weeping Nurse. Good Madam, be comforted. ACT II.
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 : Enter VILLEROY and Carlos, meeting. I will not for myself: let me bear all
The violence of your wrath; but spare my child Vil. My friend, I fear to ask-but Isabella- Let not my sins be visited on bim: The lovely widow's tears, her orphan's cries, They are; they must : a general ruin falls Thy father must feel for them-No, I read, On every thing about me! thou art lost, I read their cold reception in thine eyes
Poor Nurse, by being near me. Thou pitiest them—though Baldwin—but I spare Nurse. I'can work, or beg, to do you service. him
Isa. Could I forget
Car. My Villeroy, the fatherless, the widow, Start every way from my distracted soul,
like a Jew as he is, he says you have had more Vil. Advantage ! think not I intend to raise already than the jewels are worth : he wishes you An interest from Isabella's wrongs.
would rather think of redeeming 'em, than espect Your father may have interested ends
any more money upon 'em.
(Esit. In her undoing, but my heart has none;
Isa. So :-Poverty at home, and debts abroad! Her happiness must be my interest,
My present fortune bad; my hopes yet worse ! And that I would restore.
What will become of me? Car. Why, so I mean.
This ring is all I have left of value now; These hardships, that my father lays upon her, 'Twas given me by my husband; his first gift I'm sorry for, and wish I could prevent; Upon our marriage : I've always kept it But he will have his way. Since there's no with my best care, the treasure next my life : hope
And now but part with it to support life, From her prosperity, her change of fortune Which only can be dearer. Take it, Nurse, May alter the condition of her thoughts,
Take care of it: And make for you.
Manage it as the last remaining friend Vil. She is above her fortune.
That would relieve us. (Erit NURSE.) Heaven Car. Try her again. Women commonly love can only tell According to the circumstances they are in. Where we shall find another—My dear boy! Vil. Common women may
The labour of his birth was lighter to me No: Though I live but in the hopes of her, Than of my fondness now; my fears for him And languish for th' enjoyment of those hopes, Are more than, in that hour of hovering death, I'd rather pine in a consuming want
They could be for myself. He minds me not, Of what I wish, than have the blessing mine, His little sports have taken up his thoughts: From any reason but consenting love.
Oh, may they never feel the pangs of mine ! Oh! let me never have it to remember,
Thinking will make me mad: why must I think, I could betray her coldly to comply:
When no thought brings me comfort ? When a clear gen'rous choice bestows her on
Enter NURSE. me, I know to value the unequall'd gift:
Nurse. Oh, Madam! you are utterly ruined I would not have it but to value it.
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, Vil. I understand it so.
and seize upon all you have in the world: they are l'II serve her for herself, without the thought below. What will you do, Madam? of a reward.
(Erit. Isa. Do! nothing? no, for I am born to suffer Car. Agree that point between you. If you marry her any way, you do my business.
And be the son of this inhuman man,
(Erit. Of any way that I can serve you in?