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Ant. Indeed I do. Speak this, and this, and this. Dor. 'Tis the first justice thou hast ever done me; Thy praises were unjust; but I'll deserve 'em,
Then, though I loathe this woman's war of tongues, And yet mend all. "Do with me what thou wilt; Yet shall my cause of vengeance first be clear; Lead me to victory; thou know'st the way.
And, Honour, be thou judge. Vent. And will you leave this--
Seb. Honour befriend us both.
Beware, I warn thee yet, to tell thy griefs
Is insolent and haughty to superiors :
How often hast thou brav'd my peaceful court, And shall we fight?
Fill'd it with noisy brawls and windy boasts ; Ant. I warrant thee, old soldier ;
And with past service, nauseously repeated, Thou shalt behold me once again in iron,
Reproach'd ev'n me, thy prince? And, at the head of our old troops, that beat
Dor. And well I might, when you forgot reward, The Parthians, cry aloud, . Come, follow me.'
The part of heav'n in kings ; for punishment Vent. Oh, now I hear my emperor ! In that word Is hangman's work, and drudgery for devils. Octavius fell. Gods, let me see that day,
I must and will reproach thee with my service, And, if I have ten years behind, take all ;
Tyrant! It irks me so to call my prince; I'll thank you for th'exchange.
But just resentment and hard usage coin'd Ant. Oh, Cleopatra !
Th' unwilling word, and, grating as it is, Vent. Again !
Take it, for 'tis thy due. Ant. I've done. In that last sigh she went ;
Seb. How, tyrant ! Cæsar shall know what 'tis to force a lover
Dor. Tyrant! From all he holds most dear.
Seb. Traitor! that name thou canst not echo back. Vent. Methinks you breathe
That robe of infamy, that circumcision, Another soul; your looks are more divine;
Ill hid beneath that robe, proclaim thee traitor; You speak a hero, and you move a god.
And if a name
Dor. If I'm a traitor, think, and blush, thou tyrant, That noble eagerness of fight has seiz'd me;
Whose injuries betray'd me into treason, That eagerness with which I darted upward
Effac'd my loyalty, unhing'd my faith, To Cassius' camp. In vain the steepy hill
And hurried me from hopes of heav'n to hell; Oppos'd my way; in vain a war of spears
All these, and all my yet unfinish'd crimes, Sung round my head, and planted all my shield; When I shall rise to plead before the saints, I won the trenches, while my foremost men
I charge on thee, to make thy damning sure. Lagg'd on the plain below.
Seb. Thy old presumptuous arrogance again, Vent. Ye gods, ye gods,
That bred my first dislike, and then my loathing; For such another honour!
Once more be warn’d, and know me for thy king. Ant. Come on, my soldier;
Dor. Too well I know thee, but for king no more :
Where thy gull’d eyes, in all the gaudy round,
And the gross flattery of a gaping crowd,
Envious who first should catch, and first applaud [Scene between Dorax and Sebastian.]
The stuff or royal nonsense : when I spoke, (Don Sebastian, King of Portugal, is defeated in battle, and My honest homely words were carp'd, and censur'd, taken prisoner by the Moors. He is saved from death by For want of courtly style: related actions, Dorax, a noble Portuguese, then a renegade in the court of Though modestly reported, pass'd for boasts : the Emperor of Barbary, but formerly Don Alonzo of Alcazar. Secure of merit, if I ask'd reward, The train being dismissed, Dorax takes off his turban, and Thy hungry minions thought their rights invaded, assumes his Portuguese dress and manner.]
And the bread snatch'd from pimps and parasites. Dor. Now, do you know me:
Henriquez answer'd, with a ready lie, Seb. Thou shouldst be Alonza.
To save his king's, the boon was begg'd before. Dor. So you should be Sebastian ;
Seb. What say'st thou of Henriquez! Now, by But when Sebastian ceas'd to be himself,
hear'n, I ceased to be Alonzo.
Thou mov'st me more by barely naming him, Seb. As in a dream
Than all thy foul, unmanner'd, scurril taunts. I see thee here, and scarce believe mine eyes.
Dor. And therefore 'twas to gall thee that I nam'd Dor. Is it so strange to find me where my wrongs,
him; And your inhuman tyranny, have sent me?
That thing, that nothing, but a cringe and smile;
Seb. All false as hell or thou.
As that I seri'd thee fifteen hard campaigns,
And pitch'd thy standard in these foreign fields: And dried the dews they brought.
By me thy greatness grew; thy years grew with it; The long-expected hour is come at length,
But thy ingratitude outgrew them both. By manly vengeance to redeem my fame:
Seb. I see to what thou tend'st; but tell me first, And that once clear'd, eternal sleep is welcome. If those great acts were done alone for me: Seb. I have not yet forgot I am a king,
If love produc'd not some, and pride the rest ! Whose royal office is redress of wrongs :
Dor. Why, love does all that's noble here below: If I have wrong'd thee, charge me face to face; But all th' advantage of that love was thine: I have not yet forgot I am a soldier.
I For, coming fraughted back, in either hand
With palın and olive, victory and peace,
Dor. Beware of patience too; I was indeed prepar'd to ask my own
That's a suspicious word: it had been proper, (For Violante's vows were mine before):
Before thy foot had spurn'd me; now 'tis base: Thy malice had prevention, ere I spoke;
Yet, to disarm thee of thy last defence,
I have thy oath for my security :
Dor. Where justice wanted, could reward be hop'd ? Fight, or be perjur'd now; that's all thy choice. Could the robb’d passenger expect a bounty
Scb. Now can I thank thee as thou wouldst be From those rapacious hands who stripp'd him first? thank'd :
[Drawing. Seb. He had my promise ere I knew thy love. Never was vow of honour better paid, Dor. My services desery'd thou shouldst reroke it. If my true sword but hold, than this shall be.
Seb. Thy insolence had cancell'd all thy service; The sprightly bridegrooin, on his wedding-night, To violate my laws, even in my court,
More gladly enters not the lists of love. Sacred to peace, and safe from all affronts;
Why, 'tis enjoyment to be summon'd thus. Ev'n to my face, and done in my despite,
Go; bear my message to Henriquez' ghost; Under the wing of awful majesty
And say his master and his friend reveng'd him. l'o strike the man I lov'd!
Dor. His ghost ! then is my hated rival dead? Dor. Evin in the face of heav'n, a place more sacred, Seb. The question is beside our present purpose; Would I have struck the man who, prompt, by power, | Thou seest me ready ; we delay too long. Would seize my right, and rob me of my love :
Dor. A minute is not much in either's life, But, for a blow provoked by thy injustice,
When there's but one betwixt us; throw it in, The hasty product of a just despair,
And give it him of us who is to fall. When he refus'd to meet me in the field,
Seb. He's dead: make haste, and thou may'st yet That thou shouldst make a coward's cause thy own! o'ertake him. Seb. He durst: nay, more, desir'd and begg'd with Dor. When I was hasty, thou delay'dst me longer, tears,
I pr'ythee, let me hedge one moment more To meet thy challenge fairly : 'twas thy fault Into thy promise : for thy life preserved, To make it public ; but my duty, then
Be kind; and tell me how that rival died, To interpose, on pain of my displeasure,
Whose death, next thine, I wish'd. Betwixt your swords.
Seb. If it would please thee, thou shouldst never Dor. On pain of infamy
But thou, like jealousy, inquir’st a truth, [know. He should have disobey'd.
Which found, will torture thee: he died in fight : Seb. Th’indignity thou didst was meant to me: Fought next my person ; as in concert fought : Thy gloomy eyes were cast on me with scorn,
Kept pace for pace, and blow for every blow; As who should say, the blow was there intended; Save when he heav'd his shield in my defence, But that thou didst not dare to lift thy hands And on his naked side received my wound: Against anointed power : so was I forc'd
Then, when he could no more, he fell at once, To do a sovereign justice to myself,
But rollid his falling body cross their way, And spurn thee from my presence.
And made a bulwark of it for his prince. Dor. Thou hast dar'd
Dor. I never can forgive him such a death! To tell me what I durst not tell myself:
Seb. I prophesied thy proud soul could not bear it. I durst not think that I was spurn'd, and livo: Now, judge thyself, who best desery'd my love. And live to hear it boasted to my face.
I knew you both; and, durst I say, as heav'n All my long avarice of honour lost,
Foreknew among the shining angel host Heap'd up in youth, and hoarded up for age: Who should stand firm, who fall. Has Honour's fountain then suck'd back the strcam ? Dor. Had he been tempted so, so had he fall'n ; He has; and hooting boys may dry-shod pass, And so had I been favour'd, had I stood. And gather pebbles from the naked ford.
Seb. What had been, is unknown ; what is, appears; Give me my love, my honour; give them back
Confess he justly was preferr'd to thee. Give me revenge, while I have breath to ask it.
Dor. Had I been born with his indulgent stars, Seb. Now, by this honour'd order which I wear, My fortune had been his, and his been mine. More gladly would I give than thou dar'st ask it. Oh, worse than hell! what glory have I lost, Nor shall the sacred character of king
And what has he acquir'd by such a death! Be urg'd to shield me from thy bold appeal.
I should have fallen by Sebastian's side; If I have injur'd thee, that makes us equal :
My corpse had been the bulwark of my king. The wrong, if done, debas'd me down to thee:
His glorious end was a patch'd work of fate, But thou hast charg'd me with ingratitude;
Ill-sorted with a soft effeminate life: Hast thou not charg'd me? Speak.
It suited better with my life than his Dor. Thou know'st I have :
So to have died : mine had been of a piece, If thou disown'st that imputation, draw,
Spent in your service, dying at your feet. And prove my charge a lie.
Seb. The more effeminate and soft his life, Seb. No; to disprove that lie, I must not draw: The more his fame, to struggle to the field, Be conscious to thy worth, and tell thy soul
And meet his glorious fate : confess, proud spirit What thou hast done this day in my defence :
(For I will have it from thy very mouth), To fight thee, after this, what were it else
That better he deserv'd my love than thou. Thani owning that ingratitude thou urgest?
Dor. Oh, whither would you drive me! I must grant That isthmus stands between two rushing seas;
Yes, I must grant, but with a swelling soul, Which, mounting, view each other from afar,
Henriquez had your love with more desert : And strive in vain to meet.
For you he fought and died; I fought against you; Dor. I'll cut that isthmus :
Through all the mazes of the bloody field
Was the propitious error of my fate,
Not of my soul; my soul's a regicide. Now draw ; I should be loath to think thou dar'st not: Scb. Thou mightst have given it a more gentle name; Beware of such another vile excuse.
Thou meant'st to kill a tyrant, not a king. Scb. Oh, patience, heav'n!
| Speak; didst thou not, Alonzo ?
Nor shall the would I give than ther which I wear
Dor. Can I speak ?
were successfully performed; but Otway was alwaye Alas! I cannot answer to Alonzo :
in poverty. In 1677 the Earl of Plymouth procured No, Dorax cannot answer to Alonzo :
him an appointment as a cornet of dragoons, and Alonzo was too kind a name for me.
the poet went with his regiment to Flanders. He Then, when I fought and conquer'd with your arms, was soon cashiered, in consequence of his irregulaIn that bless'd age I was the man you nani'd;
rities, and, returning to England, he resumed writing Till rage and pride debas'd me into Dorax,
for the stage. In 1680 he produced Caius Marcius And lost, like Lucifer, my name above.
and the Orphan, tragedies; in 1681 the Soldier's Seb. Yet twice this day I ow'd my life to Dorax. Fortune ; and in 1682 Venice Preserved. The short Dor. I sav'd you but to kill you: there's my grief. | eventful life of Otway, cheguered by want and es.
Seb. Nay, if thou canst be griev'd, thou canst repent;
Dor. Oh, stop this headlong torrent of your goodness;
Seb. Indeed thou shouldst not ask forgiveness first;
travagance, was prematurely closed in 1685. One Nay, then, I was unjust to love him better.
of his biographers relates, that the immediate cause Here let me ever hold thee in my arms:
of his death was his hastily swallowing, after a long And all our quarrels be but such as these,
fast, a piece of bread which charity had supplied. Who shall love best, and closest shall embrace :
According to another account he died of fever, occaBe what Henriquez was: be my Alonzo.
sioned by fatigue, or by drinking water when violently Dor. What! my Alonzo, said you? My Alonzo ? heated. Whatever was the immediate cause of his Let my tears thank you ; for I cannot speak;
death, he was at the time in circumstances of great And if I could,
poverty. Words were not made to vent such thoughts as mine. The fame of Otway now rests on his two tragedies,
Seb. Thou canst not speak, and I can ne'er be silent. the ‘Orphan,' and 'Venice Preserved ;' but on these it Some strange reverse of fate must sure attend
rests as on the pillars of Hercules. His talents in This vast profusion, this extravagance
scenes of passionate affection rival, at least, and Of heav'n to bless me thus. 'Tis gold so pure, sometimes excel, those of Shakspeare: more tears It cannot bear the stamp, without alloy.
have been shed, probably, for the sorrows of BelBe kind, ye pow'rs, and take but half away:
videra and Monimia than for those of Juliet and With ease the gifts of fortune I resign;
Desdemona.'* The plot of the “Orphan,' from its inBut let my love, and friend, be ever mine.
herent indelicacy and painful associations, has driven this play from the theatres; but .Venice Preserved' is
still one of the most popular and effective tragedies. THOMAS OTWAY.
The stern plotting character of Pierre is well conWhere Dryden failed, one of his young contempo trasted with the irresolute, sensitive, and affectionate raries succeeded. The tones of domestic tragedy nature of Jaffier; and the harsh unnatural cruelty of and the deepest distress were bounded, with a power Priuli serves as a dark shade, to set off the bright and intenseness of feeling never surpassed, by the purity and tenderness of his daughter. The pathetic unfortunate THOMAS OTWAY; a brilliant name asso and harrowing plot is well managed, and deepens ciated with the most melancholy history. Otway towards the close; and the genius of Otway shines was born at Trotting in Sussex, March 3, 1651, the in his delineation of the passions of the heart, the son of a clergyman. He was educated first at Win ardour of love, and the excess of misery and despair. chester school and afterwards at Oxford, but left The versification of these dramas is sometimes rugged college without waring his degree. In 1672 he and irregular, and there are occasional redundancies made his appearance as an actor on the London and inflated expressions, which a more correct taste stage. To this profession his talents were ill adapted, would have expunged; yet, even in propriety of style but he probably acquired a knowledge of dramatic and character, how much does this young and careart, which was serviceable to him when he began to less poet excel the great master Dryden! write for the theatre. He produced three tragedies, Alcibiades, Don Carlos, and Titus and Berenice, which
# Bir Walter Soott.
Jaf. You talk as if 'twould please you.
Pri. 'Twould, by heaven!
Jaf. Would I were in my grave!
Pri. And she, too, with thee; Pri. No more! I'll hear no more! begone, and For, living here, you 're but my curs'd remembrancers leave me!
I once was happy! Jaf. Not hear me! by my sufferings but you shall: Jaf. You use me thus, because you know my soul My lord-my lord! I'm not that abject wretch Is fond of Belvidera. You perceive You think me. Patience ! where's the distance throws My life feeds on her, therefore thus you treat me. Me back so far, but I may boldly speak
Were I that thief, the doer of such wrongs In right, though proud oppression will not hear me? As you upbraid me with, what hinders me Pri. Have you not wrong'd me?
But I might send her back to you with contumely, Jaf. Could my nature e'er
And court my fortune where she would be kinder. Have brook'd injustice, or the doing wrongs,
Pri. You dare not do't. I need not now thus low have bent myself
Jaf. Indeed, my lord, I dare not. To gain a hearing from a cruel father.
My heart, that awes me, is too much my master: Wrong'd you ?
Three years are past since first our vows were Pri. Yes, wrong'd me! in the nicest point,
plighted, The honour of my house, you've done me wrong. | During which time the world must bear me witness You may remember (for I now will speak,
I've treated Belvidera like your daughter,
Due to her birth, she always has commanded :
The world might see I lov'd her for herself;
Pri. No more.
Jaf. Yes, all, and then adieu for ever. When, in requital of my best endeavours,
There's not a wretch that lives on common charity You treacherously practis'd to undo me;
But's happier than me; for I have known Seduc'd the weakness of my age's darling,
The luscious sweets of plenty ; every night My only child, and stole her from my bosom,
Have slept with soft content about my head, Oh! Belvidera !
And never wak'd but to a joyful morning : Jaf. 'Tis to me you owe her:
Yet now must fall, like a full ear of corn, Childless had you been else, and in the grave Whose blossom 'scap'd, yet's wither'd in the ripening. Your name extinct; no more Priuli heard of.
Pri. Home, and be humble ; study to retrench; You may remember, scarce five years are past, Discharge the lazy vermin in thy hall, Since in your brigantine you sail'd to see
Those pageants of thy folly: The Adriatic wedded by our duke;
Reduce the glitt'ring trappings of thy wife And I was with you : your unskilful pilot
To humble weeds, fit for thy little state: Dash'd us upon a rock; when to your boat
Then to some suburb cottage both retire; You made for safety : enter'd first yourself;
Drudge to feed loathsome life; get brats and starte. Th' affrighted Belvidera, following next,
Home, home, I say.
[Exit. As she stood trembling on the vessel's side,
Jaf. Yes, if my heart would let meWas by a wave wash'd off into the deep;
This proud, this swelling heart : home I would go, When instantly I plung'd into the sea,
But that my doors are hateful to my eyes, And buffeting the billows to her rescue,
Fill'd and damm'd up with gaping creditors : Redeer'd her life with half the loss of mine.
I've now not fifty ducats in the world, Like a rich conquest, in one hand I bore her,
Yet still I am in love, and pleas'd with ruin.
O Belvidera! Oh! she is my wife-
Enter BELVIDERA. Pri. You stole her from me ; like a thief you stole Bel. My lord, my love, my refuge ! her,
Happy my eyes when they behold thy face! At dead of night! that cursed hour you chose
My heavy heart will leave its doleful beating To rifle ine of all my heart held dear.
At sight of thee, and bound with sprightly joys. May all your joys in her prove false, like mine! Oh, smile, as when our loves were in their spring, A sterile fortune and a barren bed
And cheer my fainting soul! -Attend you both : continual discord make
Jaf. As when our loves Your days and nights bitter, and grievous still: Were in their spring! Has, then, my fortune chang'd May the hard band of a vexatious need
thee? Oppress and grind you ; till at last you find
Art thou not, Belvidera, still the same, The curse of disobedience all your portion.
Kind, good, and tender, as my arms first found Jaf. Half of your curse you have bestow'd in vain. thee ! Heav'n has already crown'd our faithful loves If thou art alter'd, where shall I have harbour ! With a young boy, sweet as his mother's beauty : Where ease my loaded heart? Oh! where complain! May he live to prove more gentle than his grandsire, Bel. Does this appear like change, or love decaying, And happier than his father!
When thus I throw myself into thy bosom, Pri. Rather live
With all the resolution of strong truth? To bait thee for his bread, and din your ears
I joy more in thee With hungry cries ; whilst his unhappy mother Than did thy mother, when she hugy'd thee first, Sits dornind weeps in bitterness of want.
And bless'd the gods for all her travail past.
Jaf. Can there in woman be such glorious faith? Nor let the thoughts of death perplex thy fancy: Sure, all ill stories of thy sex are false !
But answer me to what I shall demand, Oh, woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee With a firm temper and unshaken spirit. To temper man: we had been brutes without you! Bel. I will, when I've done weepingAngels are painted fair, to look like you :
Juf. Fie, no inore on't ! There's in you all that we believe of Hear'n;
How long is't since the miserable day Amazing brightness, purity, and truth,
We wedded first?
Bel. Oh, Oh!
Lest they unman me,too.
Bel. Heaven knows I cannot ;
The words you utter sound so very sadly,
Bel. But was't a miserable day?
Jaf. A curs'd one. Want, worldly want, that hungry meagre fiend, Bel. I thought it otherwise ; and you have often Is at my heels, and chases me in view,
sworn, Canst thou bear cold and hunger? Can these limbs, When sure you spoke the truth, you've sworn, you Fram'd for the tender offices of love,
bless'd it. Endure the bitter gripes of smarting poverty
Jaf. 'Twas a rash oath. When banish'd by our miseries abroad
Bel. Then why am I not curs'd too. (As suddenly we shall be), to seek out
| Jaf. No, Belvidera ; by th' eternal truth, In some far climate, where our names are strangers, I dote with too much fondness. For charitable succour, wilt thou then,
Bel. Still so kind ?
Still, then, do you love me?
Bel. Then sure you will not curse me?
'Tis now, I think, three years we've liv'd together. Should 'suage itself, and be let loose to thine.
Bel. And may no fatal minute erer part us, Though the bare earth be all our resting place,
Till, reverend grown, for age and love, we go Its roots our food, some cliff our habitation,
Down to one grave, as our last bed, together; I'll make this arm a pillow for thine head;
There sleep in peace till an eternal morning. And, as thou sighing liest, and swellid with sorrow, Jaf. Did not I say I came to bless thee? Creep to thy bosom, pour the balın of love
Bd. You did. Into thy soul, and kiss thee to thy rest;
Jaf. Then hear me, bounteous Heaven, Then praise our God, and watch thee till the morning. Pour down your blessings on this beauteous head, Jaf. Hear this, you Heav'ns, and wonder how you Where everlasting sweets are always springing, made her!
With a continual giving hand : let peace, Reign, reign, ye monarchs, that divide the world; Ilonour, and safety, always hover round her: Busy rebellion ne'er will let you know
Feed her with plenty; let her eyes ne'er see Tranquillity and happiness like mine;
A sight of sorrow, nor her heart know mourning; Like gaudy ships, the obsequious billows fall,
Crown all her days with joy, her nights with rest, And rise again, to list you in your pride;
Harmless as her own thoughts; and prop her virtue, They wait but for a storm, and then devour you ! To bear the loss of one that too much lov'd; 1, in my private bark already wreck’d,
And comfort her with patience in our parting. Like a poor merchant, driven to unknown land,
Bel. How? parting, parting? That had, by chance, pack'd up his choicest treasure | Jaf. Yes, for ever parting! In one dear casket, and sav'd orly that:
I have sworn, Belvidera, by yon Heav'n, Since I must wander farther on the shore,
That best can tell how much I lose to leave thee, Thus hug my little, but my precious store,
We part this hour for ever. Resolv'd to scorn and trust my fate no more. (Exeunt. Bel. Oh! call back
Your cruel blessing; stay with me, and curse me. [Jaffier joins with Pierre and others in a conspiracy against the senate. He communicates the secret to Belvidera, and
Jaf. Now hold, heart, or never. she, anxious to save her father's life, prevails on Jather to dis Bel. By all the tender days we've liv'd together, close the whole to the senators. The betrayed conspirators are Pity my sad condition ; speak, but speak. condemned to death.
Jaf. Murder! unhold me:
Or by th’immortal destiny that doom'd me
[Draws his dagger.
To this curs'd minute, I'll not live one longer:
Resolve to let me go, or see me fall-
[Passing bell tolls. Enter BelvidERA.
| Tolls out for death! I must attend its call too; Bel. My life
| For my poor friend, my dying Pierre, expects me: Jaf. My plague
He sent a message to require I'd see him Bel. Nay, then, I see my ruin.
Before he died, and take his last forgiveness. If I must die !
Farewell for ever! Jaf. No, death's this day too busy;
Bel. Leave thy dagger with me: Thy father's ill-tim'd mercy came too late.
Bequeath me something. Not one kiss at parting ?
Jaf. Yet stay:
| Be a kind mother to him when I am gone: