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Char. Nay, nothing extraordinary. But ono

good action draws on another. You have given The curtain rising, discovers Oroonoko upon the prince his freedom: now we come a begging his back, his legs and arms stretched out, and for his wife: you wont refuse us. chained to the ground. Enter BLANDFORD,

Lieut. Refuse you? No, no, what have I to do STANMORE, G.C.

to refuse you? I send her to him! You do very Bland. O miserable sight! help, ev'ry one,

well; 'tis kindly done of you; even carry her to Assist me all to free him from his chains. him, with all my heart.

(They help him up and bring him forward, Lucy. You must tell us where she is. looking doron.

Lieut. I tell you ! why, don't you know? Most injur'd prince! how shall we clear our- Bland. Your servant says she's in the house. selves?

[all Lieut. No, no, I brought her home at first indeed; Oro. If you would have me think you are not but I thought it would not look well to keep her Confederates, all accessary to

here: I removed her in the hurry only to take The base injustice of your governor;

care of her. What! she belongs to you: I have If you would have me live, as you appear

nothing to do with her. Concern'd for me: if you would have me live

Char. But where is she now, Sir ? To thank and bless you ; there is yet a way

Lieut. Why, faith, I can't say certainly: you'll To tie me ever to your honest love;

hear of her at Parham-house, I suppose: there or Bring my Imoinda to me; give me her,

thereabouts: I think I sent her there. To cheer my sorrows, and, if possible,

Bland. I'll have an eye on him. [Aside. I'll sit down with my wrongs, never to rise

(Ereunt all but LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR. Against my fate, or think of vengeaece more.

Lieut. I have lied myself into a little time, Bland. Be satisfy’d, you may depend upon us, And must employ it: they'll be here again; We'll bring her safe to you, and suddenly.

But I must go before 'em. Char. We will not leave you in so good a

(Going out, he meets IMOINDA, and seizes Widow L. No, no, we'll go with you. (work.

her. Bland. In the meantime,

Are you come ? Endeavour to forget, Sir, and forgive;

I'll court no longer for a happiness And hope a better fortune.

That is in my own keeping: you may still (Ereunt all but Oroonoko. Refuse to grant, so I have power to take. Oro. Forget! forgive! I must indeed forget

The man that asks deserves to be denied. When I forgive: but while I am a man,

[She disengages one hand, and draws his In flesh, that bears the living marks of shame,

sword from his side upon him; GOVERThe print of his dishonourable chains,

NOR starts and retires. BLANDFORD enMy memory still rousing up my wrongs,

ters behind him. I never can forgive this governor,

Imo. He does indeed, that asks unworthily. This villain ; the disgrace of trust and place,

Bland. You hear her, Sir, that asks unAnd just contempt of delegated power.

worthily. What shall I do? If I declare myself,

Lieut. You are no judge. I know him, he will sneak behind his guard

Bland. I am, of my own slave. Of followers, and brave me in his fears.

Lieut. Be gone, and leave us. Else, lion-like, with my devouring rage,

Bland. When you let her go. I would rush on him, fasten on his throat,

Lieut. To fasten upon you. Tear a wide passage to his treacherous heart,

Bland. I must defend myself. And that way lay him open to the world.

[IMOIND A retreats towards the door, favour [Pauses.

ed by BLANDFORD; when they are closed, If I should turn his Christian arts on him,

she throws dowon the sword and runs out. Promise him, speak him fair, flatter, and creep

GOVERNOR takes up his sword, they fight, With fawning steps, to get within his faith,

close, and fall, BLANDFORD upon him. I could betray him then, as he has me.

Serrants enter and part them. But am I sure by that to right myself?

Lieut. She sha'n't escape me so; I've gone too Lying 's a certain mark of cowardice:

far, And, when the tongue forgets its honesty,

Not to go further. Curse on my delay. The heart and hand may drop their functions too, But yet she is, and shall be in my power. And nothing worthy be resolvd or done.

Bland. Nay, then it is the war of honesty; Let me but find out

I know you, and will save you from yourself. An honest remedy, I have the hand,

[Ereunt. A minist'ring hand, that will apply it home.




Oro. To honour bound! and yet a slave u

I am distracted by their rival powers, slove!

And both will be obey'd. O great revenge! Lieut. I would not have her tell me she con- Thou raiser and restorer of fall'n fame! sents;

Let me not be unworthy of thy aid, In favour of the sex's modesty.

For stopping in thy course. I still am thine ; Enter BLANDFORD, STANMORE, JACK STANMORE, She calls me from my wrongs to rescue her.

But can't forget I am Imoinda's too. DANIEL, CHARLOTTE Weldon, and Lucy.

No man condemn me, who has never felt What's the matter?

A woman's power or tried the force of love,

To run his glorious race of light anew,

What is it thou wouldst tell me?
And carry on the world. Love, love will be Imo. 'Tis in vain to call him villain.
My first ambition, and my fame the next.

Oro. Call him governor : is it not so?

Imo. There's not another sure.
Enter ABoax, bloody.


Oro. Villain 's the common name of mankind My eyes are turn'd against me, and combine But his most properly. What! what of him? With my sworn enemies, to represent

I fear to be resolv'd, and must inquire. This spectacle of horror. Aboan!

He had thee in his power.
Aboan. I have no name

Imo. I blush to think it.
That can distingush me from the vile earth, Oro. Blush! to think what?
To which I'm going: a poor abject worm, Imo. That I was in his power.
That crawld awhile upon the bustling world, Oro. He could not use it?
And now am trampled to my dust again.

Imo. What can't such men do?
Oro. I see thee gash'd and mangled !

Oro. But did he ? durst he? Aboan. Spare my shame,

Imo. What he could he dar'd. To tell how they have usd me; but believe Oro. His own gods damn him then! For our The hangman's hand would have been merciful.

have none, Do not you scorn me, Sir, to think I can No punishment for such unheard of crime. Intend to live under this infamy?

Imo. This monster, cunning in his flatteries, I do not come for pity, to complain.

When he had weary'd all his useless arts, I've spent an honourable life with you;

Leap'd out, fierce as a beast of prey, to seize me. The earliest servant of your rising fame, I trembled, fear'd. And would attend it with my latest care:

Oro. I fear and tremble now. My life was yours, and so shall be my death. What could preserve thee? What deliver thee? You must not live;

Imo. That worthy man, you usd to call your Bending and sinking, I have dragg’d my steps Oro. Blandford ?

[friendThus far, to tell you that you cannot live: Imo. Came in, and sav'd me from his rage. To warn you of those ignominious wrongs, Oro. He was a friend indeed, to rescue thee! Whips, rods, and all the instruments of death, And, for his sake, I'll think it possible Which I have felt, and are prepar'd for you. A Christian may be yet an honest man. This was the duty that I had to pay.

Imo. O did you know what I have struggled 'Tis done, and now I beg to be discharg'd.

through, Oro. What shall I do for thee?

To save me yours, sure you would promise me Aboan. My body tires,

Never to see me forc'd from you again. And wo'not bear me off to liberty:

Oro. To promise thee ! O ! do I need to promise ? I shall again be taken, made a slave.

But there is now no further use of words.
A sword, a dagger, yet would rescue me. Death is security for all our fears.
I have not strength to go and find out death,

[Shows Aboas's body on the filer. You must direct him to me.

And yet I cannot trust him.
Oro. Here he is, [Gives him a dagger. Imó. Aboan!
The only present I can make thee now:

Oro. Mangled and torn, resolv'd to give me And, next the honourable means of life,

time I would bestow the honest means of death. To fit myself for what I must expect,

Aboan. I cannot stay to thank you. If there is Groan'd out a warning to me, and expir'd.
A being after this, I shall be yours

Imo. For what you must expect ?
In the next world, your faithful slave again. Oro. Would that were all.
This is to try. [Stabs himself.] I had a living Imo. What, to be butcher'd thus-

Oro. Just as thou seest.
Of all your royal favours, but this last

Imo. By barb'rous hands to fall at last their Strikes through my heart. I wo'not say farewell,

prey ? For you must follow me.

[Dies. Oro. I have run the race with honour, shall I
Oro. In life and death,
The guardian of my honour! Follow thee! Lag, and be overtaken at the goal ?
I should have gone before thee: then perhaps Imo. No.
Thy fate had been prevented. All his care Oro. I must look back to thee. [ Tenderly.
Was to preserve me from the barbarous rage Imo. You sha'not need.
That worried him, only for being mine.

I am always present to your purpose; say,
Why, why ye gods: why am I so accurs’d, Which way would you dispose me?
That it must be a reason of your wrath,

This dagger will instruct you. (Gives it to kin. A guilt, a crime sufficient to the fate

Oro. Ha! this dagger! Of any one, but to belong to me?

Like fate, it points me to the horrid deed. My friend has found it out, and my wife will soon : Imo. Strike, strike it home, and bravely save My wife! the very fear's too much for life.

us both. I can't support it.' Where's Imoinda ? Oh! There is no other safety.

(Going out, he meets IMOINDA, who runs Oro. It must beinto his arms.

But first a dying kiss

(Kisses her. Thou bosom softness ! Down of all my cares ! This last embrace

(Embraces her. I could recline my thoughts upon this breast And nowTo a forgetfulness of all my griefs,

Imo. I'm ready.
And yet be happy: but it wo'not be.

Oro. 0, where shall I strike ?
Thou art disorder'd, pale, and out of breath! Is there the smallest grain of that lov'd body
If fate pursue thee, find a shelter here.

That is not dearer to me than my eyes,




My bosom'd heart, and all the life blood there? 'Tis just that both should be employ'd in it Bid me cut off these limbs, hew off these hands, Thus, thus 'tis finish'd, and I bless my fate. Dig out these eyes, though I would keep them

(Stabs herself. To gaze upon thee: but to murder thee! [last That, where I liv'd, I die in these lov'd arms. The joy and charm of ev'ry ravish'd sense,

[Dies. My wife! forbid it, nature.

Oro. She's gone. And now all 's at an end Imo. 'Tis your wife,

with me. Who on her knees conjures you. O! in time, Soft, lay her down: O we will part no more. Prevent those mischiefs that are falling on us.

[Throros himself by her. You may be hurried to a shameful death, But let me pay the tribute of my grief, And I too dragg'd to the vile governor;

A few sad tears to thy lov'd memory, Then I may cry aloud. When you are gone, And then I follow-- [Shouts ; weeps orer her. Where shall I find a friend again to save me? But I stay too long.

[A noise again. Oro. It will be so. Thou unexampled virtue, The noise comes nearer. Hold, before I go, Thy resolution has recover'd mine:

There's something would be done. It shall be so, And now prepare thee.

And then, Imoinda, I'll come all to thee. (Rises. Imo. Thus, with open arms,

Enter BLANDFORD and his party, before the I welcome you and death. (He drops the dagger as he looks on her,

LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR and his party. Swords

drawn on both sides. and throws himself on the ground. Oro. I cannot bear it.

Lieut. You strive in vain to save him, he shall O let me dash against the rock of fate,

die. Dig up this earth, and tear her bowels out, Bland. Not while we can defend him with our To make a grave, deep as the centre down,

lives. To swallow wide and bury us together!

Lieut. Where is he? It wo'not be. Oh! then some pitying god Oro. Here is the wretch whom you would (If there be one a friend to innocence)

have. Find yet a way to lay her beauties down Put up your swords, and let no civil broils Gently in death, and save me from her blood. Engage you in the cursed cause of one Imo. O rise, 'tis more than death to see you Who cannot live, and now entreats to die ; thus.

This object will convince you. I'll ease your love, and do the deed myselfI. Bland. 'Tis his wife. (She takes up the dagger, he rises in haste

[They gather about the body to take it from her.

Alas, there was no other remedy. Oro. O! hold, I charge thee, hold.


Who did the bloody deed ?
Imo. Though I must own

Oro. The deed was mine:
It would be nobler for us both, from you. Bloody I know it is, and I expect
Oro. O! for a whirlwind's wing to hurry us

Your laws should tell me so. Thus self-conTo yonder cliff, which frowns upon the flood;

demnd, That in embraces lock'd we might plunge in, I do resign myself into your hands, And perish thus in one another's arms.

The hands of justice —But I hold the sword Imo. Alas! what shout is that?

For you—and for myself. Oro. I see 'em coming.

(Stabs the GOVERNOR and himself, then They sha'not overtake us. This last kiss,

throws himself by IMOinda's body. And now farewell.

'Tis as it should be now, I have sent his ghost Imo. Farewell, farewell for ever!

To be a witness of that happiness Oro. I'll turn my face away, and do it so. In the next world, which he denied us here. Now, are you ready?

(Dicu. Imo. Now. But do not grudge me

Bland. I hope there is a place of happiness The pleasure, in my death, of a last look; In the next world for such exalted virtue. Pray look upon me. - Now I'm satisfied. Pagan or unbeliever, yet he liv'd Oro. So fate must be by this.

To all he knew: and, if he went astray, (Going to stab her, he stops short ; she lays There 's mercy still above to set him right.

her hand on his, in order to give the blow. But Christians, guided by the heavenly ray, Imo. Nay, then I must assist you.

Have no excuse if they mistake their way. And since it is the common cause of both,


VOL. I... 4E





REMARKS This comedy, originally called the Country Wife, was written by Wycherly, a witty company of Charles the Second, and a favourite of that social and dissolute monarch. The most entertaining parts of his play, to the age for which it was written, are precisely those which the purer taste of the present would eject. Mr Gas rick revived this piece, in 1766, when Manager of Drury Lane Theatre; and his judicious alterations have ra dered it worthy the approbation of the public.

Mrs. Jordan made her first appearance on the London stage in the character of Peggy; in which she displayed that native talent, grace, simplicity, and harmony, which so long rendered her an object of bgadless attractis and applause.



Mr. Bartley,..
Mr. Wallack,
Mr. S. Penley,..
Mr. Barnard,
.Mt. Maddocks,

Mr. Minton,
Mr. Coveney, ..
Mrs. Mardyn,
Mrs. Orger,..
Miss Tidswell...

Mr. Francett
Mr. Birtymine
Mr. Farley.
Mr Hamerton
. Mr Menage
Mr Howell
Mr. W. Chapman
Mos. Alsop
Miss Matthern
Mrs. Gibbs,




possession of what I must despair now ever to

obtain-Heigho! SCENE I.-HARCOURT's Lodgings.

Har. Ha, ha, ha! very foolish indeed.

Bel. Don't laugh at me, uncle; I am foolish, ! HARCOURT and Belville discovered sitting.

but like other fools, I deserve to be pitied

Har. Pr’ythee don't talk of pity; how can I Har. Ha, ha, ha! and so you are in love, help you ? for this country girl of yours is certainly nephew; not reasonably and gallantly, as a young married. gentleman ought, but sighingly, miserably so; Bel. No, no,I wont believe it; she is not not content to be ancle-deep, you have soused married, nor she sha'n't be, if I can help it. over head and ears—ha, Dick?

Har. Well said, modesty; with such a spirit Bel. I am pretty much in that condition, in- you can help ycurself, Dick, without my 24deed, uncle.

[Sighs. sistance. Har. Nay, never blush at it: when I was of Bel. But you must encourage and advise me your age I was ashamed too; but three years at too, or I shall never make any thing of it. college, and half a one at Paris, methinks should Har. Provided the girl is not married; for 1 have cured you of that unfashionable weakness never encourage young men to covet their neighmodesty.

bours' wives. Bel.' Could I have released myself from that, I Bel. My heart assures me, that she is not marhad perhaps been at this instant happy in the ried.

Har. O, to be sure, your heart is much to be were not at home, but would return directly; relied upon; but to convince you that I have a "And so will I too,” said he, very short and surly fellow-feeling of your distress, and that I am as and away he went mumbling to himself. nearly allied to you in misfortunes as in relation- Har. Very well, Will; i'll see him when he ship, you must know

comes. [Erit SERVANT.) Moody call to see me ! Bel . What, uncle ? you alarm me!

He has something more in his head than making Har. That I am in love too.

me a visit; 'tis to complain of you, I suppose. Bel. Indeed!

Bel. How can he know me? Har. Miserably in love.

Har. We must suppose the worst, and be preBel. That's charming.

pared for him; tell me all you know of this wan. Har. And my mistress is just going to be mar- of his, this Peggy-Peggy what 's her name? ned to another.

Bel. Thrift, Thrift,

uncle. Bel. Better and better.

Har. Ay, ay, Sir Thomas Thrift's daughter, Har. I knew my fellow-sufferings would please of Hampshire ; and left very young, under the you ; but now prepare for the wonderful wonder- guardianship of my old companion and acquaintof-wonders!

ance, Jack Moody. Bel. Well!


. Your companion !-he's old enough to be Har. My mistress is in the same house with your father. yours.

Har. Thank you, nephew-he has greatly the Bel. What, are you in love with Peggy too? advantage of me in years, as well as wisdom.

(Rising from his chair. When I first launched from the university, into Har. Well said, jealousy. No, no, set your this ocean of London, he was the greatest rake in heart at rest; your Peggy is too young, and too it; I knew him well for near two years, but all of simple for me. I must have one a little more a sudden he took a freak (a very prudent one) of knowing, a little better bred, just old enough to retiring wholly into the country see the difference between me and a coxcomb, Bel. There he gained such an ascendency over spirit enough to break from a brother's engage- the odd disposition of his neighbour, Sir Thomas, ments, and choose for herself.

that he left him sole guardian to his daughter; Bel. You don't mean Alithea, who is to be who forfeits half her fortune, if she does not marry married to Mr. Sparkish ?

with his consent—there's the devil, uncle. Har. Can't I be in love with a lady that is go- Har. And are you so young, so foolish, and so ing to be married to another, as well as you, Sir ? much in love, that you would take her with half Bel. But Sparkish is your friend?

her value? ha, nephew ? Har. Pr’ythee don't call him my friend; he Bel. I'll take her with any thing—with no can be nobody's friend, not even his own.--He thing. would thrust himself into my acquaintance, would Har. What! such an unaccomplished, awkintroduce me to his mistress, though I have told ward, silly creature ? he has scarce taught her to him again and again that I was in love with her; write ; she has seen nobody to converse with, but which, instead of ridding me of him, has made the country people about 'em; so she can do no him only ten times more troublesome, and me thing but dangle her arms, look gawky, turn her cally in love. He should suffer for his self-suf- toes in, and talk broad Hampshire. ficiency.

Bel.' Don't abuse her sweet simplicity; had you Pel. 'Tis a conceited puppy !-And what suc- but heard her talk, as I have done, from the garcess with the lady?

den-wall in the country, by moon-lightHar. No great hopes; and yet if I could defer Har. Romeo and Juliet, I protest, ha, ha, ha! the marriage a few days, I should not despair; “ Arise fair sun, and kill the envious—ha, ha, but honour, I am confident, is her only attach- | ha! How often have you seen this fair Capulet? ment to my rival: she can't like Sparkish; and if Bel. I saw her three times in the country, and I can work upon his credulity, a credulity which spoke to her twice; I have leaped an orchard wall, even popery would be ashamed of, I may yet have like Romeo, to come at her; played the balcony the chance of throwing sixes upon the dice to scene, from an old summer-house in the garden;

and if I lose her, I will find out an apothecary, Bel. Nothing can save me.

and play the tomb scene too. Har. No, not if you whine and sigh, when you Har. Well said, Dick !—this spirit must pro should be exerting every thing that is man about duce something; but has the old dragon ever you. I have sent Sparkish, who is admitted at all caught you sighing at her ? hours, in the house, to know how the land lies Bel. Never in the country; he saw me yesterfor you, and if she is not married already. day kissing my hand to her, from the new tavern

Bel. 'How cruel you are-you raise me up with window that looks upon the back of his house, one hand, and then you knock me down with the and immediately drove her from it, and fastened other

up the window-shutters. Har. Well, well, she sha'n't be married. Spark. (Without.) Very well, Will, I'll go up (Knocking at the door.) This is Sparkish, I sup- to 'em. pose: don't drop the least hint of your passion to Har. I hear Sparkish coming up; take care of him; if you do, you may as well advertise it in what I told you ; not a word of Peggy; hear his the public papers.

intelligence, and make use of it, without seeming Bel. I'll be careful.

to mind it. Enter a SERVANT.

Bel. Mum, mum, uncle.

Enter SPARKISH. Sert. An odd sort of a person, from the country, I believe, who calls himself Moody, wants to see Spark. O, my dear Harcourt, I shall die with you, Sir; but as I did not know him, I said you laughing; I have such news for theeha, ha.

save me.

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