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Isa. Ah, Zanga, see me tremble! Has not yet
What then? We all must die.
Isa. Alonzo raves,
And, in the tempest of his grief, has thrice
Alon. Oh Zanga!
Alon. By Heaven! Oh, give him to my fury! Zan. Born for your use, I live but to oblige you. Know, then, 'twas-I.
Alon. Am I awake?
Thy wife is guiltless-that's one transport to me;
Zan. Why, this is well-why, this is blow for
Where are you? Crown me, shadow me with
Ye spirits who delight in just revenge!
Alon. Inhuman slave!
Look on me. Who am I? I know, thou sayst,
Less to expose me to the ambitious foe.-
I stood astride, till I had clove thy crest;
My wages were a blow! by Heaven, a blow!
Alon. Oh villain, villain!
Zan. Do not tremble so; but speak.
Alon. I dare not.
[Falls on him.
Zan. All strife is vain.
Zan. You will drown me with your tears.
Alon. Have I not cause?
Zan. As yet you have no cause.
Alon. Dost thou too rave?
Zan. Your anguish is to come : You much have been abused.
Alon. Abused! by whom?
Zan. To know were little comfort.
[Shewing a dagger. Alon. Is thus my love returned?
Is this my recompence? Make friends of tigers!
Both innocent! both murdered! both by me!
Cæsars have wept; and I have had my blow:
Whose native country thou hast laid in blood;
Whose reign extinguished. What was left to me,
If cold white mortals censure this great deed,
As he is going to stab himself, Alonzo rushes
Zan. This too is well. The fixed and noble
Turns all occurrents to its own advantage;
The blood will follow where the knife is driven,
Zan. While I live, old man, I'll speak:
Alon. Who called Alonzo ?
Alv. No one called, my son.
Alon. Again!--'Tis Carlos' voice, and I
The wheel's prepared, and you shall have it all.
Is this Alonzo? Where's the haughty mein?
And art thou dead? So is my enmity.
I war not with the dust. The great, the proud,
Alon. No, monster, thou shalt not escape by The conqueror of Afric was my foe. death.
Alv. Oh, Alonzo !-Isabella,
A lion preys not upon carcases.
Touched with remorse to see her mistress' pangs, Now blazes, all thy guilt is in the grave.
Never had man such funeral applause :
Alv. Dreadful effects of jealousy! a rage
SCENE I-A room in Thorowgood's house.
Enter THOROWGOOD and TRUEMAN. True. SIR, the packet from Genoa is arrived. [Gives letters. Thor. Heaven be praised! The storm that threatened our royal mistress, pure religion, liberty, and laws, is, for a time, diverted. The haughty and revengeful Spaniard, disappointed of the loan on which he depended from Genoa, must now attend the slow returns of wealth from his new world, to supply his empty coffers, ere he can execute his proposed invasion of our happy island. By this means, time is gained to make such preparations, on our part, as may, Heaven concurring, prevent his malice, or turn the medi
tated mischief on himself.
True. He must be insensible, indeed, who is not affected when the safety of his country is concerned. Sir, may I know by what means?If I am not too bold
Thor. Your curiosity is laudable; and I gratify it with the greater pleasure, because from thence you may learn, how honest merchants, as such,
may sometimes contribute to the safety of their country, as they do at all times to its happiness; that if hereafter you should be tempted to any action that has the appearance of vice or meanness in it, upon reflecting on the dignity of our profession, you may, with honest scorn, reject whatever is unworthy of it.
True. Should Barnwell, or I, who have the benefit of your example, by our ill conduct, bring any imputation on that honourable name, we must be left without excuse.
Thor. You compliment, young man. [True man bows respectfully.] Nay, I am not offended. As the name of merchant never degrades the gentleman, so, by no means does it exclude him; only take heed not to purchase the character of complaisant at the expence of your sincerity.But, to answer your question: The bank of Genoa had agreed, at an excessive interest, and on good security, to advance the king of Spain a sum of money sufficient to equip his vast Armada; of which our peerless Elizabeth (more than in name the mother of her people) being well informed, sent Walsingham, her wise and faithful secretary,
to consult the merchants of this loyal city; who that a young gentleman may prefer your converall agreed to direct their several agents to influ-sation to mine, and yet intend me no disrepect at ence, if possible, the Genoese to break their contract with the Spanish court. It is done: the state and bank of Genoa having maturely weighed, and rightly judged of their true interest, prefer the friendship of the merchants of London to that of the monarch, who proudly stiles himself king of both Indies.
True. Happy success of prudent counsels! What an expence of blood and treasure is here saved! Excellent queen! O how unlike those princes, who make the danger of foreign enemies a pretence to oppress their subjects by taxes great, and grievous to be borne !
Thor. Not so our gracious queen! whose richest exchequer is her people's love, as their happiness her greatest glory.
True. On these terms to defend us, is to make our protection a benefit worthy her who confers it, and well worth our acceptance. Sir, have you any commands for me at this time?
Thor. Only look carefully over the files, to see whether there are any tradesmen's bills unpaid; if there are, send and discharge them. We must not let artificers lose their time, so useful to the public and their families, in unnecessary attendance. [Exit Trueman.
Well, Maria, have you given orders for the entertainment? I would have it in some measure worthy the guests. Let there be plenty, and of the best, that the courtiers may at least commend our hospitality.
Mar. Sir, I have endeavoured not to wrong your well-known generosity by an ill-timed parsi
Thor. Nay, it was a needless caution: I have no cause to doubt your prudence.
Mar. Sir, I find myself unfit for conversation; I should but increase the number of the company, without adding to their satisfaction.
Thor. Nay, my child, this melancholy must not be indulged.
Mar. Company will but increase it: I wish you would dispense with my absence. Solitude best suits iny present temper.
Thor. You are not insensible, that it is chiefly on your account these noble lords do me the honour so frequently to grace my board. Should you be absent, the disappointment may make them repent of their condescension, and think their labour lost.
Mar. He that shall think his time or honour lost in visiting you, can set no real value on your daughter's company, whose only merit is, that she is yours. The man of quality, who chooses to converse with a gentleman and merchant of your worth and character, may confer honour by so doing, but he loses none.
Thor. Come, come, Maria, I need not tell you,
all; for though he may lose no honour in my company, it is very natural for him to expect more pleasure in yours. I remember the time when the company of the greatest and wisest men in the kingdom would have been insipid and tiresome to me, if it had deprived me of an opportunity of enjoying your mother's.
Mar. Yours, no doubt, was as agreeable to her; for generous minds know no pleasure in society but where it is mutual.
Thor. Thou knowest I have no heir, no child, but thee; the fruits of many years successful industry must all be thine. Now, it would give me pleasure, great as my love, to see on whom you will bestow it. I am daily solicited, by men of the greatest rank and merit, for leave to address you: but I have hitherto declined it, in hopes that, by observation, I should learn which way your inclinations tend; for, as I know love to be essential to the married state, I had rather my approbation should confirm your choice, than direct it.
Mar. What can I say? How shall I answer, as I ought, this tenderness, so uncommon even in the best of parents? But you are without example; yet, had you been less indulgent, I had been most wretched. That I look on the crowd of courtiers that visit here, with equal esteem, but equal indifference, you have observed, and I must needs confess; yet, had you asserted your authority, and insisted on a parent's right to be obeyed, I had submitted, and to my duty sacrificed my peace.
Thor. From your perfect obedience, in every other instance, I feared as much; and therefore would leave you, without a bias, in an affair wherein your happiness is so immediately concerned.
Mar. Whether from a want of that just ambi tion that would become your daughter, or from some other cause, I know not; but I find high birth and titles don't recommend the man, who owns them, to my affections.
Thor. I would not that they should, unless his merit recommends him more. A noble birth and fortune, though they make not a bad man good, yet they are a real advantage to a worthy one, and place his virtues in the fairest light.
Mar. I cannot answer for my inclinations; but they shall ever be submitted to your wisdom and authority. And as you will not compel me to marry where I cannot love, love shall never make me act contrary to my duty. Sir, have I your permission to retire?
Thor. I'll see you to your chamber. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A Room in Millwood's House.
Enter MILLWOOD and LUCY. Mill. How do I look to-day, Lucy?
Lucy. Oh, killingly, madam! A little more red, and you'll be irresistible.- -But why this more than ordinary care of your dress and complexion? What new conquest are you aiming at?
Mill. A conquest would be new indeed. Lucy. Not to you, who make them every day -but to me- -Well, it is what I am never to expect-unfortunate as I am— But your wit and beauty
Mill. First made me a wretch, and still continue me so. Men, however generous or sincere to one another, are all selfish hypocrites in their affairs with us; we are no otherwise esteemed or regarded by them, but as we contribute to their satisfaction.
Lucy. You are certainly, madam, on the wrong side in this argument. Is not the expence all theirs? And, I am sure, it is our own fault if we have not our share of the pleasure.
Mill. We are but slaves to men. Lucy. Nay, it is they that are slaves, most certainly; for we lay them under contribution,
Mill. Slaves have no property; no, not even in themselves: all is the victor's.
Lucy. You are strangely arbitrary in your principles, madam.
Mill. I would have my conquest complete, like those of the Spaniards in the new world; who first plundered the natives of all the wealth they had, and then condemned the wretches to the mines for life, to work for more.
Lucy. Well, I shall never approve of your scheme of government; I should think it much more politic, as well as just, to find my subjects an easier employment.
Mill. It is a general maxim among the knowing part of mankind, that a woman without virtue, like a man without honour or honesty, is capable of any action, though never so vile: and yet what pains will they not take, what arts not use, to seduce us from our innocence, and make us contemptible and wicked, even in their own opinion? Then, is it not just, the villains, to their cost, should find us so? But guilt makes them suspicious, and keeps them on their guard; therefore we can take advantage only of the young and innocent part of the sex, who, having never injured women, apprehend no injury from them. Lucy. Ay, they must be young indeed. Mill. Such a one, I think, I have found. I have passed through the city, I have often observed him receiving and paying considerable sums of money; from thence I conclude, that he is employed in affairs of consequence.
Lucy. Is he handsome?
Mill. Ay, ay, the stripling is well made, and has a good face.
Lucy. Innocent, handsome, and about eighteen!-You will be vastly happy. Why, if you manage well, you may keep him to yourself these two or three years!
Mill. If I manage well, I shall have done with him much sooner. Having long had a design on him, and meeting him yesterday, I made a full stop, and, gazing wishfully in his face, asked his name. He blushed, and, bowing very low, answered, George Barnwell. I begged his pardon for the freedom I had taken, and told him, that he was the person I had long wished to see, and to whom I had an affair of importance to communicate at a proper time and place. He named a tavern; I talked of honour and reputation, and invited him to my house. He swallowed the bait, promised to come, and this is the time I expect him. [Knocking at the door.] Somebody knocks-D'ye hear; I am at home to nobody to-day but hini. [Exit Lucy.] Less affairs must give way to those of more consequence; and I am strangely mistaken if this does not prove of great importance to me, and him too, before I have done with him. Now, after what manner shall I receive him? Let me consider- -What manner of person am I to receive? He is young, innocent, and bashful; therefore I must take care not to put him out of countenance at first. But then, if I have any skill in physiognomy, he is amorous; and, with a little assistance, will soon get the better of his modesty. I will even trust to nature, who does wonders in these matters. If to seem what one is not, in order to be the better liked for what one really is; if to speak one thing, and mean the direct contrary, be art in a woman—I know nothing of nature.
Enter BARNWELL, bowing very low. Lucy at a
Mill. Sir, the surprise and joy-
Mill. This is such a favour—
[Still advances. [Barnwell salutes her, and retires as in confusion.
To see you here-Excuse the confusion-
Mill. Alas, sir, I may justly apprehend you think me so. Please, sir, to sit. I am as much at a loss how to receive this honour as I ought, as I am surprised at your goodness in conferring it.
Barn. I thought you had expected me; I promised to come.
Mill. That is the more surprising; few men are such religious observers of their word. Barn. All who are honest are.
Mill. To one another; but we simple women are seldom thought of consequence enough to gain a place in their remembrance.
[Laying her hand on his, as by accident. Barn. Her disorder is so great, she don't perceive she has laid her hand on mine. Heavens! How she trembles !-What can this mean?