Last night, Calista yielded to my happiness,
Just ere we parted, as I seal'd my vows
With rapture on her lips, I found her cold,
As a dead lover's statue on his tomb;

A rising storm of passion shook her breast,
Her eyes a piteous show'r of tears let fall,
And then she sigh'd, as if her heart were breaking,
With all the tend'rest eloquence of love

I begg'd to be a sharer in her grief:

But she, with looks averse, and eyes that froze me,
Sadly reply'd, her sorrows were her own,
Nor in a father's power to dispose of.

Sci. Away! it is the cozenage of their sex; One of the common arts they practise on us: To sigh and weep then when their hearts beat high With expectation of the coming joy.

121

Thou hast in camps and fighting fields been bred,
Unknowing in the subtleties of women;
The virgin bride, who swoons with deadly fear,
To see the end of all her wishes near,
When blushing, from the light and public eyes,
To the kind covert of the night she flies,
With equal fires to meet the bridegrom moves,
Melts in his arms, and with a loose she loves. [Exeunt.
Enter LOTHARIO and ROSSANO.

Loth. The father, and the husband!

Ros. Let them pass.

They saw us not.

Loth. I care not if they did;

Ere long I mean to meet 'em face to face,

C

And gall 'em with my triumph o'er Calista.
Ros. You lov'd her once.

Loth. I lik'd her, would have marry'd her,
But that it pleas'd her father to refuse me,
To make this honourable fool her husband:
For which, if I forget him, may the shame
I mean to brand his name with, stick on mine.

Ros. She, gentle soul, was kinder than her father. Loth. She was, and oft in private gave me hearing; Till, by long list'ning to the soothing tale,

At length her easy heart was wholly mine.

Ros. I've heard you oft describe her, haughty, insolent,

And fierce with high disdain: it moves my wonder,
That virtue, thus defended, should be yielded
A prey to loose desires.

Loth. Hear then, I'll tell thee:

Once in a lone and secret hour of night,
When ev'ry eye was clos'd, and the pale moon
And stars alone shone conscious of the theft,
Hot with the Tuscan grape, and high in blood,
Hap'ly I stole unheeded to her chamber.
Ros. That minute sure was lucky.
Loth. Oh, 'twas great!

I found the fond, believing, love-sick maid,
Loose, unattir'd, warm, tender, full of wishes;
Fierceness and pride, the guardians of her honour,
Were charm'd to rest, and love alone was waking.
Within her rising bosom all was calm,

As peaceful seas that know no storms, and only

160

Are gently lifted up and down by tides.
I snatch'd the glorious golden opportunity,
And with prevailing, youthful ardor press'd her,
'Till with short sighs, and murmuring reluctance,
The yielding fair one gave me perfect happiness.
Ev'n all the live-long night we pass'd in bliss,
In ecstacies too fierce to last for ever;

At length the morn and cold indifference came;
When, fully sated with the luscious banquet,
I hastily took leave, and left the nymph
To think on what was past, and sigh alone.
Ros. You saw her soon again?

Loth. Too soon I saw her:

For, Oh! that meeting was not like the former:
I found my heart no more beat high with transport,
No more I sigh'd, and languish'd for enjoyment ;
'Twas past, and reason took her turn to reign,
While every weakness fell before her throne.
Ros. What of the lady?

Loth. With uneasy fondness

She hung upon me, wept, and sigh’d, and swore
She was undone; talk'd of a priest, and marriage;
Of flying with me from her father's pow'r;
Call'd every saint, and blessed angel down,
To witness for her that she was my wife.
I started at that name.

Ros. What answer made you?

180

Loth. None; but pretending sudden pain and illness, Escap'd the persecution. Two nights since,

By message urg'd and frequent importunity,

Some keeping cardinal shall doat upon thee,
And barter his church treasure for thy freshness.
Luc. What! shall I sell my innocence and youth,
For wealth or titles, to perfidious man!

To man, who makes his mirth of our undoing!
The base, profest betrayer of our sex!
Let me grow old in all misfortunes else,

Rather than know the sorrows of Calista!

Loth. Does she send thee to chide in her behalf?

I swear thou dost it with so good a grace,

That I could almost love thee for thy frowning. 260 Luc. Read there, my lord, there, in her own sad

lines,

[Giving a letter. Which best can tell the story of her woes, That grief of heart which your unkindness gives her. [Lothario reads. Your cruelty-Obedience to my father--Give my hand to

Altamont.

By Heav'n 'tis well! such ever be the gifts

With which I greet the man whom my soul hates.

Women, I see, can change as well as men.

She writes me here, forsaken as I am,

That I should bind my brows with mournful willow,

For she has giv'n her hand to Altamont :

Yet, tell the fair inconstant

Luc. How, my lord!

Loth. Nay, no more angry words: say to Calista, The humblest of her slaves shall wait her pleasure; If she can leave her happy husband's arms,

To think upon so lost a thing as I am.

Luc. Alas! for pity, come with gentler looks: 280 Wound not her heart with this unmanly triumph; And, tho' you love her not, yet swear you do, So shall dissembling once be virtuous in you. Loth. Ha! who comes here ?

Luc. The bridegroom's friend, Horatio. He must not see us here. To-morrow early Be at the garden gate.

Loth. Bear to my love

My kindest thoughts, and swear I will not fail her. [Lothario putting up the letter hastily, drops it as he goes out.

[Exeunt Lothario and Rossano one way, Lucilla another.

Enter HORATIO.

Hor. Sure 'tis the very error of my eyes;
Waking I dream, or I beheld Lothario;
He seem'd conferring with Calista's woman:
At my approach they started, and retir'd.

What business could he have here, and with her?
I know he bears the noble Altamont

Profest and deadly hate-What paper's this?

[Taking up the letter.

Ha! To Lothario!-'s death! Calista's name!

Confusion and misfortunes!

[Opening it. [Reads.