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Hor. Yet what thou couldest, thou didst, One kind remembrance in Calista's breast, And didst it like a son; when his hard creditors, The winds, with all their wings, would be too slow Urged and assisted by Lothario's father,

To bear me to her feet. For oh, my father! (Foe to thy house, and rival of their greatness) Amidst the stream of joy that bears me on, By sentence of the cruel law forbid

Blest as I am, and honoured in your friendship, His venerable corpse to rest in earth,

There is one pain that hangs upon my heart. Thou gav'st thyself a ransom for his bones; Sci. What means my son ? With piety uncommon didst give up

Alt. When at your intercession, Thy hopeful youth to slaves, who ne'er knew Last night, Calista yielded to my happiness, mercy,

Just ere we parted, as I sealed my vows Sour, unrelenting, money-loving villains, With rapture on her lips, I found her cold, Who laugh at human nature and forgiveness, As a dead lover's statue on his tomb; And are, like fiends, the factors of destruction. A rising storm of passion shook her breast, Heaven, who beheld the pious act, approved it, Her eyes a piteous shower of tears let fall, And bade Sciolto's bounty be its proxy,

And then she sighed, as if her heart were breakTo bless thy filial virtue with abundance.

ing. Alt. But see, he comes, the author of my hap- With all the tenderest eloquence of love, piness,

I begged to be a sharer in her grief : The man who saved my life from deadly sorrow, But she, with looks averse, and eyes that froze Who bids my days be blest with peace and plenty,

ine, And satisfies my soul with love and beauty! Sadly replied, her sorrows were her own,

Nor in a father's power to dispose of. Enter Sciolto; he runs to ALTAMONT, and em

Sci. Away! it is the cozenage of their sex ; braces him.

One of the common arts they practise on us : Sci. Joy to thee, Altamont! Joy to myself! To sigh and weep then when their hearts beat Joy to this happy morn that makes thee mine ;

high That kindly grants what nature had denied me, With expectation of the coming joy. And makes me father of a son like thee!

Thou hast in camps and fighting fields been bred, Alt. My father! Oh, let me unlade my breast, Unknowing in the subtleties of women. Pour out the fulness of my soul before you; The virgin bride, who swoons with deadly fear, Shew every tender, every grateful thought, To see the end of all her wishes near, This wondrous goodness stirs. But it is impos- When blushing, from the light and public eyes, sible,

To the kind covert of the night she flies, And utterance all is vile; since I can only With equal fires to meet the bridegroom moves, Swear you reign here, but never tell how much. Melts in his arms, and with a loose she loves. Sci. It is enough; I know thee, thou art ho

[Exeunt. nest; Goodness innate, and worth hereditary,

Enter LOTHARIO and Rossano. Are in thy mind; thy noble father's virtues Loth. The father, and the husband ! Spring freshly forth, and blossom in thy youth.

Ros. Let them pass. Alt. Thus Heaven from nothing raised his They saw us not. faint creation,

Loth. I care not if they did; And then, with wondrous joy, beheld its beauty, Ere long I mean to meet them face to face, Well pleased to see the excellence he gave. And gall them with my triumph o'er Calista. Sci. O, noble youth! I swear, since first I knew Ros. You lov'd her once. thee,

Loth. I liked her, would have married her, Even from that day of sorrows when I saw thee, But that it pleased her father to refuse me, Adorned and lovely in thy filial tears,

To make this honourable fool her husband : The mourner and redeemer of thy father, For which, if I forget him, may the shame I set thee down, and sealed thee for my own: I mean to brand his name with, stick on mine! Thou art my son, even near me as Calista.

Ros. She, gentle soul, was kinder than ber faIloratio and Lavinia too are mine;

ther? (Embraces Horatio.

Loth. She was, and oft in private gave me All are my children, and shall share

пу heart.

hearing; But wherefore waste we thus this happy day? Till, by long listening to the soothing tale, The laughing minutes summon thee to joy, At length her easy heart was wholly mine. And with new pleasures court thee as they pass; Ros. I have heard you oft describe her, haughThy waiting bride even chides thee for delaying, ty, insolent, And swears thou com’st not with a bridegroom's And fierce with high disdain : it moves my wonhaste.

der, Alt. Oh! could I hope there was one thought That virtue, thus defended, should be yielded of Altamont,

A prey to loose desires.

Loth. Hear then, I will tell thee :

They only meant ill-nature, cares, and quarrels. Once in a lone and secret hour of night,

Ros. How bore she this reply? When every eye was closed, and the pale moon Loth. Even as the earth, And stars alone shone conscious of the theft, When, winds pent up, or eating fires beneath, Hot with the Tuscan grape, and high in blood, Shaking the mass, she labours with destruction. Haply I stole unheeded to her chamber.

At first her rage was dumb, and wanted words : Ros. That minute sure was lucky.

But when the storm found way, it was wild and Loth. Oh, it was great!

loud. I found the fond, believing, love-sick maid, Mad as the priestess of the Delphic god, Loose, unattired, warm, tender, full of wishes; Enthusiastic passion swelled her breast, Fierceness and pride, the guardians of her ho- Enlarged her voice, and ruffled all her form. nour,

Proud, and disdainful of the love I proffered, Were charmed to rest, and love alone was waking. She called me villain ! monster! base betrayer ! Within her rising bosom all was calm,

At last, in very bitterness of soul,
As peaceful seas that know no storms, and only With deadly imprecations on herself,
Are gently lifted up and down by tides. She vowed severely never to see me more;
I snatched the glorious golden opportunity, Then bid me fly that minute : I obeyed,
And with prevailing, youthful ardour pressed her, And, bowing, left her to grow cool at leisure.
Till with short sighs, and murmuring reluctance, Ros. She has relented since, else why this
The yielding fair one gave me perfect happiness. message
Even all the live-long night we passed in bliss, To meet the keeper of her secrets here
In ecstacies too fierce to last for ever;

This morning?
At length the morn and cold indifference came; Loth. See the person whom you named !
When, fully sated with the luscious banquet,
I hastily took leave, and left the nymph

Enter Lucilla.
To think on what was past, and sigh alone. Well, my ambassadress, what must we treat of?
Ros. You saw her soon again?

Come you to menace war, and proud defiance, Loth. Too soon I saw her:

Or does the peaceful olive grace your message? For, Oh! that ineeting was not like the former: Is your fair mistress calıner! Does she soften? I found my heart beat high no more with trans- And must we love again? Perhaps she ineans port,

To treat in juncture with her new ally, No more I sighed, and languished for enjoyment; And make her husband party to the agreenient. Twas past, and reason took her turn to reign, Luc. Is this well done, my lord! Have you While every weakness fell before her throne. Ros. What of the lady?

All sense of human nature? Keep a little, Loth. With uneasy fondness

A little pity, to distinguish manhood, She hung upon me, wept, and sighed, and swore Lest other men, though cruel, should disclaim She was undone; talked of a priest, and mar- you, riage;

And judge you to be numbered with the brutes. Of Aying with me from her father's power; Loth. I see thou hast learned to rail. Called every saint, and blessed angel down,

Luc. I have learned to weep : To witness for her that she was my wife. That lesson my sad mistress often gives me: I started at that name.

By day she seeks some melancholy shade, Ros. What answer made you?

To hide her sorrows from the prying world; Loth. None; but pretending sudden pain and At night she watches all the long, long hours, illness,

And listens to the winds and beating rain, Escaped the persecution. Two nights since, With sighs as loud, and tears that fall as la. t; By message urged and frequent importunity, Then, ever and anon, she wrings her hands, Again I saw her. Straight with tears and sighs, And cries, false, false Lothario ! With swelling breasts, with swooning, with dis- Loth. Oh, no more! traction,

I swear thou wilt spoil thy pretty face with crya With all the subtleties and powerful arts

ing, Of wilful woman, labouring for her purpose, And thou hast beauty that may make thy fortune: Again she told the same dull nauseous tale. Some keeping cardinal shall doat upon thee, Unmoved, I begged ber spare the ungrateful sub- And barter his church treasure for thy freshness. ject,

Luc. What! shall I sell my innocence and Since I resolved, that love and peace of mind

youth, Might flourish long inviolate betwixt us,

For wealth or titles, to perfidious man! Never to load it with the marriage chain; To man, who makes his mirth of our undoing ! That I would still retain her in my heart, The base, profest betrayer of our sex! My ever gentle mistress and iny friend!

Let me grow old in all misfortunes else, But for those other names of wife and husband, Rather than know the sorrows of Calista! VOL. I.


put off




Loth. Does she send thee to chide in her be- fect obedience to my father, and to give my half?

hand to Altamont, in spite of my weakness for I swear thou dost it with so good a gráce, * the false Lothario. I could almost wish I had That I could almost love thee for thy frowning.that heart, and that honour to bestow with it, Luc. Read there, my lord, there, in her own * which you have robbed me of: sad lines,

[Giving a letter. Damnation! to the rest [Reads again. Which best can tell the story of her woes, • But, Oh! I fear, could I retrieve them, I should That grief of heart which your unkindness gives again be undone by the too faithless, yet too her.

lovely Lothario. This is the last weakness of (Loth. reads. Your cruelty-Obedience to my pen, and to-morrow shall be the last in

my father-Give my hand to Altamont.' ' which I will indulge my eyes. Lucilla shall By Heaven it is well! such ever be the gifts, conduct you, if you are kind enough to let me With which I greet the man whom my soul hates. see you; it shall be the last trouble you shall

[Aside. meet with from But to go on!

• The lost CALISTA. • Wish-heart-honour--too faithless

The lost, indeed! for thou art gone as far Weakness-to-morrow_last "trouble-lost Ca- As there can be perdition. Fire and sulphur! lista.'

Hell is the sole avenger of such crimes. Women, I see, can change as well as men. Oh, that the ruin were but all thy own! She writes me bere, forsaken as I am,

Thou wilt even make thy father curse his age; That I should bind my brows with mournful wil- At sight of this black scroll

, the gentle Altamont low,

(For, Oh! I know his heart is set upon thee) For she has given her hand to Altamont : Shall droop, and hang his discontented head, Yet, tell the fair inconstant

Like merit scorned by insolent authority, Luc. How, my lord!

And never grace the public with his virtues. Loth. Nay, no more angry words: say to Ca- Perhaps even now he gazes fondly on her, lista,

And, thinking soul and body both alike, The humblest of her slaves shall wait her plea- Blesses the perfect workmanship of Heaven! sure;

Then sighing, to his every care speaks peace, If she can leave her happy husband's arms, And bids his heart be satisfied with happiness. To think upon so lost a thing as I am.

Oh, wretched husband! while she hangs about Luc. Alas! for pity, come with gentler looks;

thee Wound not her heart with this unmanly triumph : With idle blandishments, and plays the fond one, And, though you love her not, yet swear you

Even then her hot imagination wanders, do,

Contriving riot, and loose 'scapes of love;
So shall dissembling once be virtuous in you. And whilst she clasps thee close, makes thee a
Loth. Ha! who comes here?

Luc. The bridegroom's friend, Horatio. What if I give this paper to her father?
He must not see me here. To-morrow early It follows, that his justice dooms her dead,
Be at the garden gate.

And breaks his heart with sorrow! hard return Loth. Bear to my love

For all the good his hand has heaped on us ! My kindest thoughts, and swear I will not fail Hold, let me take a moment's thought

(Lothario putting up the letter hastily,

· Enter LaviniA.
drops it as he goes out.

Lav. My lord ! [Exeunt Lothario and Rossano one way, and Trust me, it joys my heart that I have found you. Lucilla another.

Enquiring wherefore you had left the company,

Before my brother's nuptial rites were ended, Enter Horatio.

They told me you had felt some sudden illness. Hor. Sure it is the very error of my cyes; Where are you sick? Is it your head? your heart! Waking I dream, or I beheld Lothario; Tell me, my love, and ease my anxious thoughts, lle seemed conferring with Calista's woman : That I may take you gently in my arms, At my approach they started, and retired. Soothe you to rest, and soften all your pains. What business could he have here, and with her? Hor. It were unjust-No, let me spare my I know he bears the noble Altamont

friend, Profest and deadly hate-Wbat paper's this? Lock up the fatal secret in my breast,

(Tuking up the letter. Nor tell him that which will undo his quiet. Ha! To Lothario !-'s death! Calista's name! Lav. What means my lord ?

[Opening it. Hor. Ha! saidst thou, my Lavinia ? Confusion and misfortunes! Reads it. Lav. Alas! you know not what you make me

Your cruelty has at length determined me, suffer. and I have resolved this morning to yield a per- Why are you pale: Why did you start and tremble?


Whence is that sigh? and wherefore are your eyes He thinks the priest has but half blessed his marSeverely raised to Heaven! The sick man thus,

riage, Acknowledging the summons of his fate, Till his friend hails him with the sound of joy. Lifts up his feeble hands and eyes for mercy, Hor. Oh, never, never, never! Thou art inno-, And, with confusion, thinks upon his exit. Hor. Oh, no! thou hast mistook my sickness Simplicity from ill, pure native truth, quite;

And candour of the mind, adorn thee ever; These pangs are of the soul. Would I had met But there are such, such false ones, in the world, Sharpest convulsions, spotted pestilence, 'Twould fill thy gentle soul with wild amazement, Or any other deadly foe to life,

To hear their story told. Rather than heave beneath this load of thought! Lav, False oncs, my lord ! Lav. Alas! what is it? Wherefore turn you Hor. Fatally fair they are, and in their smiles from me

The graces, little loves, and young desires, inWhy did you falsely call me your Lavinia,

habit; And swear I wss JÍoratio's better half,

But all that gaze upon them are undone ; Since now you mourn unkindly by yourself, For they are false, luxurious in their appetites, And rob,me of my partnership of sadness? And all the Heaven they hope for, is variety : Witness, ye holy powers, who know my truth, One lover to another still succeeds, There cannot be a chance in life so miserable, Another, and another after that, Nothing so very hard, but I could bear it, And the last fool is welcome as the former; Much rather than my love should treat me coldly, Till, having loved his hour out, he gives place, And use me like a stranger to his heart.

And mingles with the herd that went before him, Hor. Seek not to know what I would hide from Lav. Can there be such, and have they peace all,

of mind? But most from thee. I never knew a pleasure, Have they, in all the series of their changing, Ought that was joyful, fortunate, or good, One happy hour! If women are such things, But straight I ran to bless thee with the tidings, How was I formed so different from my sex? And laid up all my happiness with thee: My little heart is satisfied with you ; But wherefore, wherefore should I give thee pain? You take up all her room, as in a cottage Then spare me, I conjure thee; ask no further; Which harbours some benighted princely stranger, Allow my melancholy thoughts this privilege, Where the good man, proud of his hospitality, And let them brood in secret o'er their sorrows. Yields all his homely dwelling to his guests,

Lao. It is enough; chide not, and all is well! And hardly keeps a corner for himself. Forgive me if I saw you sad, Horatio,

Hor, Oh! were they all like thee, men would And ask to weep out part of your misfortunes:

adore them, I would not press to know what you forbid me. And all the business of their lives be loving; Yet, my loved lord, yet you must grant me this, The nuptial band should be the pledge of peace, Forget your cares for this one happy day; And all domestic cares and quarrels cease; Devote this day to mirth, and to your Altamont; The world should learn to love by virtuous rules, For his dear sake, let peace be in your looks. And marriage be no more the jest of fools. Even now the jocund bridegroom waits your




SCENE I.-A Hall.

Turn, and behold where gentle Altamont,

Kind as the softest virgin of our sex,

And faithful as the simple village swain,
Cal. Be dumb for ever, silent as the grave, That never knew the courtly vice of changing,
Nor let thy fond officious love disturb

Sighs at your feet, and wooes you to be happy, My solemn sadness with the sound of joy! Cul. Åway! I think not of him. My sad soul If thou wilt soothe me, tell me some dismal tale Has formed a dismal melancholy scene, Of pining discontent, and black despair;

Such a retreat as I would wish to find; For, oh! I've gone around through all my thoughts, An unfrequented vale, o'ergrown with trees, But all are indignation, love, or shame,

Mossy and old, within whose lonesome shade And my dear peace of mind is lost for ever! Ravens, and birds ill-omened, only dwell : Luc. Why do you follow still that wandering No sound to break the silence, but a brook fire,

That, bubbling, winds among the weeds: no mark That has misled your weary steps, and leaves you Of any human shape that had been there, Benighted in a wilderness of woe,

Unless a skeleton of some poor wretch, That false Lothario? Turn from the deceiver ; Who had long since, like me, by love andone;

Sought that sad place out, to despair and die in!
Luc. Alas, for pity!

Cal. There I fain would hide me

Alt. Begone, my cares, I give you to the winds, From the base world, from malice, and from Far to be borne, far from the happy Altamont; shame!

For from this sacred æra of my love, For 'tis the solemn counsel of my soul

A better order of succeeding days Never to live with public loss of honour : Comes smiling forward, white and lucky all. 'Tis fixed to die, rather than bear the insolence Calista is the mistress of the year; Of each affected she that tells my story, She crowns the season with auspicious beauty, And blesses her good stars that she is virtuous. And bids even all my hours be good and joyful. To be a tale for fools! Scorned by the women, Cal. If I were ever mistress of such happiness, And pitied by the men ! Oh, insupportable ! Oh! wherefore did I play the unthrifty fool, Luc. Can you perceive the manifest destruc- And, wasting all on others, leave myself tion,

Without one thought of joy to give me comfort! The gaping gulf that opens just before you, Alt. Oh, mighty Love! Shall that fair face And yet rush on, though conscious of the danger? profane Oh, hear me, hear your ever faithful creature ! This thy great festival with frowns and sadness! By all the good I wish, by all the ill

I swear it shall not be, for I will woo thee My trembling heart forebodes, let me intreat you, With sighs so moving, with so warm a transport, Never to see this faithless man again;

That thou shalt catch the gentle flame from me, Let me forbid his coming.

And kindle into joy.
Cal. On thy life

Cal. I tell thee, Altamont,
I charge thee no: my genius drives me on; Such hearts as ours were never paired above:
I must, I will behold him once again :

Ill-suited to each other; joined, not matched;
Perhaps it is the crisis of my fate,

Some sallen influence, a foe to both,
And this one interview shall end my cares. Has wrought this fatal marriage to undo us.
My labouring heart, that swells with indignation, Mark but the frame and temper of our minds,
Heares to discharge the burden; that once done, How very much we differ. Even this day,
The busy thing shall rest within its cell,

That fills thee with such ecstacy and transport, And never beat again.

To me brings nothing that should make me Luc. Trust not to that:

bless it, Rage is the shortest passion of our souls: Or think it better than the day before, Like narrow brooks, that rise with sudden showers, Or any other in the course of time, It swells in baste, and falls again as soon; That duly took its turn, and was forgotten. Still, as it ebbs, the softer thoughts flow in, Alt. If to behold thee as my pledge of happiAnd the deceiver Love supplies its place.

ness, Cal. I have been wronged enough to arm my To know none fair, none excellent but thee : temper

If still to love thee with unwearied constancy, Against the smooth delusion; but alas ! Through every season, every change of life, (Chide not my weakness, gentle maid, but pity Through wrinkled age, through sickness and mise me)

A woman's softness hangs about me still: Be worth the least return of grateful love,
Then let me blush, and tell thee all my folly. Oh, then let my Calista bless this day,
I swear I could not see the dear betrayer And set it down for happy.
Kneel at my feet, and sigh to be forgiven,

Cal. 'Tis the day
But my relenting heart would pardon all, In which my father gave my hand to Altament;
And quite forget 'twas he that had undone me. As such, I will reméniber it for ever.
Luc. Ye sacred powers, whose gracious provi-

Enter Sciolto, Horatio, and LAVINIA. Is watchful for our good, guard me from men, Scio. Let mirth go on, let pleasure know no From their deceitful tongues, their vows, and pause, flatteries !

But fill up every minute of this day! Still let me pass neglected by their eyes, 'Tis yours, my children, sacred to your loves ; Let my bloom wither, and my form decay, The glorious sun himself for you looks gay ; That none may think it worth his while to ruin He shines for Altamont and for Calista. ine,

Let there be music; let the master touch And fatal love may never be my bane! (Exit. The sprightly string, and softly-breathing flute,

Cr. Ha, Altamont! Calista, now be wary, ?Till harmony rouse every gentle passion, And guard thy soul's accesses with dissembling : Teach the cold maid to loose her fears in love, Nor let this hostile husband's eyes explore And the fierce youth to languish at her feet. The warring passions, and tumultuous thoughts, Begin: even age itself is cheared with music; That rage within thee, and deform thy reason. It wakes a glad remembrance of our youth,

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