EPILOGUE

Taught him to raise your growing jealousy.Then my wild passion at this prince did fly,

[ToDonJohn.

And that was done for which I now must die.King.Ha! Gomez, speak, and quickly; is it so?Ruy-Gom.I'm sorry you should doubt if't be or no.She, by whose lust my honour was betrayed,Cannot want malice now to take my head;And therefore does this penitence pretend.D. of Eboli.O Austria! take away that ugly fiend:He smiles and mocks me, waiting for my soul;See how his glaring fiery eyeballs roll!Ruy-Gom.Thus is her fancy tortured by her guilt:But, since you'll have my blood, let it be spilt.King[ToRuy-Gomez]. No more!—[ToD. ofEboli.] Speak on, I charge thee, by the restThou hopest, the truth, and as thou shalt be blest.D. of Eboli.As what I've said is so,There may I find, where I must answer all,What most I need, Heaven's mercy on my soul![Dies.King.Heaven! she was sensible that she should die,And durst not in the minute tell a lie.Don John.His guilt's too plain; see his wild staring eye.By unconcern he would show innocence;But hardened guilt ne'er wanted the pretenceOf great submission, when't had no defence.Thus, whilst of life you show this little care,You seem not guiltless, but betray despair.King.His life! What satisfaction can that give?But oh! in doubt I must for ever live,And lose my peace—yet I the truth will find;I'll rack him for't. Go, in this minute bindHim to the wheel—Ruy-Gom.How have I this deserved,Who only your commands obeyed and served?What would you have me do?King.I'd have thee tellThe truth: do, Gomez; all shall then be well.Ruy-Gom.Alas! like you, sir, in a cloud I'm lost.And can but tell you what I think, at most.You set me as a spy upon the prince,And I still brought the best intelligenceI could; till, finding him too much awareOf me, I nearer measures took by her:Which if I after a false copy drew,'Tis I have been unfortunate as you.King.And is this all thou hast for life to show?Ruy-Gom.Dear sir, your pardon, it is all I know.King.Then villain, I am damned as well as thou.Heaven! where is now thy sleeping providence,That took so little care of innocence?O Austria, had I to thy truth inclined,Had I been half so good as thou wert kind!But I'm too tame; secure the traitor. Oh!

And that was done for which I now must die.

King.Ha! Gomez, speak, and quickly; is it so?

Ruy-Gom.I'm sorry you should doubt if't be or no.She, by whose lust my honour was betrayed,Cannot want malice now to take my head;And therefore does this penitence pretend.

D. of Eboli.O Austria! take away that ugly fiend:He smiles and mocks me, waiting for my soul;See how his glaring fiery eyeballs roll!

Ruy-Gom.Thus is her fancy tortured by her guilt:But, since you'll have my blood, let it be spilt.

King[ToRuy-Gomez]. No more!—[ToD. ofEboli.] Speak on, I charge thee, by the restThou hopest, the truth, and as thou shalt be blest.

D. of Eboli.As what I've said is so,There may I find, where I must answer all,What most I need, Heaven's mercy on my soul![Dies.

King.Heaven! she was sensible that she should die,And durst not in the minute tell a lie.

Don John.His guilt's too plain; see his wild staring eye.By unconcern he would show innocence;But hardened guilt ne'er wanted the pretenceOf great submission, when't had no defence.Thus, whilst of life you show this little care,You seem not guiltless, but betray despair.

King.His life! What satisfaction can that give?But oh! in doubt I must for ever live,And lose my peace—yet I the truth will find;I'll rack him for't. Go, in this minute bindHim to the wheel—

Ruy-Gom.How have I this deserved,Who only your commands obeyed and served?What would you have me do?

King.I'd have thee tellThe truth: do, Gomez; all shall then be well.

Ruy-Gom.Alas! like you, sir, in a cloud I'm lost.And can but tell you what I think, at most.You set me as a spy upon the prince,And I still brought the best intelligenceI could; till, finding him too much awareOf me, I nearer measures took by her:Which if I after a false copy drew,'Tis I have been unfortunate as you.

King.And is this all thou hast for life to show?

Ruy-Gom.Dear sir, your pardon, it is all I know.

King.Then villain, I am damned as well as thou.Heaven! where is now thy sleeping providence,That took so little care of innocence?O Austria, had I to thy truth inclined,Had I been half so good as thou wert kind!But I'm too tame; secure the traitor. Oh!

[GuardsseizeRuy-Gomez.

Earth, open! to thy centre let me go!And there for ever hide my impious head!Thou fairest, purest creature Heaven e'er made,Thy injured truth too late I've understood:Yet live, and be immortal as thou'rt good.Queen.Can you to think me innocent inclineOn her bare word, and would not credit mine?The poison's very busy at my heart;Methinks I see Death shake his threatening dart.Why are you kind, and make it hard to die?Persist, continue on the injury;Call me still vile, incestuous, all that's foul—King.Oh, pity, pity my despairing soul!Sink it not quite. Raise my physicians straight;Hasten them quickly ere it be too late;Propose rewards may set their skill at strife:I'll give my crown to him that saves her life.Cursed dog![ToRuy-Gomez.Don John.Vile prostitute!King.Revengeful fiend!But I've forgotten half—to Carlos send;Prevent what his despair may make him do.

Queen.Can you to think me innocent inclineOn her bare word, and would not credit mine?The poison's very busy at my heart;Methinks I see Death shake his threatening dart.Why are you kind, and make it hard to die?Persist, continue on the injury;Call me still vile, incestuous, all that's foul—

King.Oh, pity, pity my despairing soul!Sink it not quite. Raise my physicians straight;Hasten them quickly ere it be too late;Propose rewards may set their skill at strife:I'll give my crown to him that saves her life.Cursed dog![ToRuy-Gomez.

Don John.Vile prostitute!

King.Revengeful fiend!But I've forgotten half—to Carlos send;Prevent what his despair may make him do.

EnterHenrietta.

Hen.O horror, horror! everlasting woe!The prince, the prince!King.Ha! speak.Hen.He dies, he dies!Within upon his couch he bleeding lies,Just taken from a bath, his veins all cut,From which the springing blood flows swiftly out.He threatens death on all that shall opposeHis fate, to save that life which he will lose.King.Dear Austria, hasten, all thy interest use;Tell him it is to friendship an offence,And let him know his father's penitence.Beg him to live.Ruy-Gom.Since you've decreed my death, know 'twill be hard:The bath by me was poisoned when prepared.I owed him that for his late pride and scorn.King.There never was so cursed a villain born.But by revenge such pains he shall go throughAs even religious cruelty ne'er knew.Rack him! I'll broil him, burn him by degrees,Fresh torments for him every hour devise,Till he curse Heaven, and then the caitiff dies.Queen.My faithful Henrietta, art thou comeTo wait thy unhappy mistress to her tomb?I brought thee hither from thy parents young,And now must leave thee to Heaven knows what wrong.But Heaven to its protection will receiveSuch goodness; let it then thy queen forgive!Hen.How much I loved you, madam, none can tell;For 'tis unspeakable, I loved so well.A proof of it the world shall quickly find;For, when you die, I'll scorn to stay behind.

Hen.O horror, horror! everlasting woe!The prince, the prince!

King.Ha! speak.

Hen.He dies, he dies!Within upon his couch he bleeding lies,Just taken from a bath, his veins all cut,From which the springing blood flows swiftly out.He threatens death on all that shall opposeHis fate, to save that life which he will lose.

King.Dear Austria, hasten, all thy interest use;Tell him it is to friendship an offence,And let him know his father's penitence.Beg him to live.

Ruy-Gom.Since you've decreed my death, know 'twill be hard:The bath by me was poisoned when prepared.I owed him that for his late pride and scorn.

King.There never was so cursed a villain born.But by revenge such pains he shall go throughAs even religious cruelty ne'er knew.Rack him! I'll broil him, burn him by degrees,Fresh torments for him every hour devise,Till he curse Heaven, and then the caitiff dies.

Queen.My faithful Henrietta, art thou comeTo wait thy unhappy mistress to her tomb?I brought thee hither from thy parents young,And now must leave thee to Heaven knows what wrong.But Heaven to its protection will receiveSuch goodness; let it then thy queen forgive!

Hen.How much I loved you, madam, none can tell;For 'tis unspeakable, I loved so well.A proof of it the world shall quickly find;For, when you die, I'll scorn to stay behind.

EnterDon Carlos,supported between twoAttendantsand bleeding.

Don John.See, sir, your son.King.My son! But oh! how dareI use that name, when this sad object's near?See, injured prince, who 'tis thy pardon craves,No more thy father, but the worst of slaves:Behold the tears that from these fountains flow.Don Car.I come to take my farewell, ere I goTo that bright dwelling where there is no roomFor blood, and where the cruel never come.King.I know there is not, therefore must despair.O Heaven! his cruelty I cannot bear.—Dost thou not hear thy wretched father sue?Don Car.My father! speak the words once more; is't you?And may I think the dear conversion true?Oh that I could!King.By Heaven thou must—it is!Let me embrace and kiss thy trembling knees.Why wilt thou die? no, live, my Carlos, live,And all the wrongs that I have done forgive!Don Car.Life was my curse, and given me sure in spite.Oh! had I perished when I first saw light,I never then these miseries had broughtOn you, nor by you had been guilty thought.Prop me: apace I feel my life decay.The little time on earth I have to stay,Grant I without offence may here bestow;

Don John.See, sir, your son.

King.My son! But oh! how dareI use that name, when this sad object's near?See, injured prince, who 'tis thy pardon craves,No more thy father, but the worst of slaves:Behold the tears that from these fountains flow.

Don Car.I come to take my farewell, ere I goTo that bright dwelling where there is no roomFor blood, and where the cruel never come.

King.I know there is not, therefore must despair.O Heaven! his cruelty I cannot bear.—Dost thou not hear thy wretched father sue?

Don Car.My father! speak the words once more; is't you?And may I think the dear conversion true?Oh that I could!

King.By Heaven thou must—it is!Let me embrace and kiss thy trembling knees.Why wilt thou die? no, live, my Carlos, live,And all the wrongs that I have done forgive!

Don Car.Life was my curse, and given me sure in spite.Oh! had I perished when I first saw light,I never then these miseries had broughtOn you, nor by you had been guilty thought.Prop me: apace I feel my life decay.The little time on earth I have to stay,Grant I without offence may here bestow;

Pointing to theQueen.

You cannot certainly be jealous now.King.Break, break, my heart![LeadsDon Carlosto the chair.

You cannot certainly be jealous now.

King.Break, break, my heart![LeadsDon Carlosto the chair.

Don Car.You've thus more kindness shownThan if you'd crowned, and placed me on your throne.Methinks so highly happy I appearThat I could pity you, to see you there.Take me away again:—you are too good.Queen.Carlos, is't you? Oh, stop that royal flood;Live, and possess your father's throne, when IIn dark and gloomy shades forgotten lie.Don Car.Crowns are beneath me; I have higher pride:Thus on you fixed, and dying by your side,How much a life and empire I disdain!No, we'll together mount, where both shall reignAbove all wrongs, and never more complain.Queen.O matchless youth! O constancy divine!Sure there was never love that equalled thine;Nor any so unfortunate as mine.Henceforth forsaken virgins shall in songs,When they would ease their own, repeat thy wrongs;And in remembrance of thee, for thy sake,A solemn annual procession make;In chaste devotion as fair pilgrims come,With hyacinths and lilies deck thy tomb.But one thing more, and then, vain world, adieu!It is to reconcile my lord and you.Don Car.He has done no wrong to me; I am possessedOf all, beyond my expectation blest.But yet methinks there's something in my heartTells me, I must not too unkindly part.—Father, draw nearer, raise me with your hand;Before I die, what is't you would command?King.Why wert thou made so excellently good?And why was it no sooner understood?But I was cursed, and blindly led astray;Oh! for thy father, for thy father pray.Thou mayst ask that which I'm too vile to dare;And leave me not tormented by despair.Don Car.Thus then with the remains of life we kneel.

Queen.Carlos, is't you? Oh, stop that royal flood;Live, and possess your father's throne, when IIn dark and gloomy shades forgotten lie.

Don Car.Crowns are beneath me; I have higher pride:Thus on you fixed, and dying by your side,How much a life and empire I disdain!No, we'll together mount, where both shall reignAbove all wrongs, and never more complain.

Queen.O matchless youth! O constancy divine!Sure there was never love that equalled thine;Nor any so unfortunate as mine.Henceforth forsaken virgins shall in songs,When they would ease their own, repeat thy wrongs;And in remembrance of thee, for thy sake,A solemn annual procession make;In chaste devotion as fair pilgrims come,With hyacinths and lilies deck thy tomb.But one thing more, and then, vain world, adieu!It is to reconcile my lord and you.

Don Car.He has done no wrong to me; I am possessedOf all, beyond my expectation blest.But yet methinks there's something in my heartTells me, I must not too unkindly part.—Father, draw nearer, raise me with your hand;Before I die, what is't you would command?

King.Why wert thou made so excellently good?And why was it no sooner understood?But I was cursed, and blindly led astray;Oh! for thy father, for thy father pray.Thou mayst ask that which I'm too vile to dare;And leave me not tormented by despair.

Don Car.Thus then with the remains of life we kneel.

[DonCarlosand theQueensink out oftheir chairs and kneel.

May you be ever free from all that's ill!Queen.And everlasting peace upon you dwell!King.No more: this virtue's too divinely bright;My darkened soul, too conversant with night,Grows blind, and overcome with too much light.Here, raise them up—gently—ye slaves, down, down!Ye glorious toils, a sceptre and a crown,For ever be forgotten; in your stead,Only eternal darkness wrap my head.Queen.Where are you? oh! farewell, I must be gone.King.Blest happy soul, take not thy flight so soon:Stay till I die, then bear mine with thee too,And guard it up, which else must sink below.Queen.From all my injuries and all my fears,From jealousy, love's bane, the worst of cares,Thus I remove to find that stranger, rest.Carlos, thy hand, receive me on thy breast;Within this minute how shall we be blest!Don Car.Oh, far aboveWhatever wishes framed, or hopes designed;Thus, where we go, we shall the angels findFor ever praising, and for ever kind.Queen.Make haste; in the first sphere I'll for you stay;Thence we'll rise both to everlasting day.Farewell—[Dies.Don Car.I follow you; now close my eyes;[Leans on her bosom.Thus all o'er bliss the happy Carlos dies.[Dies.King.They're gone, they're gone, where I must ne'er aspire.Run, sally out, and set the world on fire;Alarum Nature, let loose all the winds,Set free those spirits whom strong magic binds;Let the earth open all her sulphurous veins,The fiends start from their hell, and shake their chains;Till all things from their harmony decline,And the confusion be as great as mine!Here I'll lie down, and never more arise,Howl out my life, and rend the air with cries.Don John.Hold, sir, afford your labouring heart some ease.King.Oh! name it not: there's no such thing as peace.From these warm lips yet one soft kiss I'll take.How my heart beats! why won't the rebel break?My love, my Carlos, I'm thy father—speak.Oh! he regards not now my miseries,But's deaf to my complaint, as I have been to his.Oh! now I think on't better, all is well.Here's one that's just descending into hell;How comes it that he's not already gone?The sluggard's lazy, but I'll spur him on.Hey! how he flies![StabsRuy-Gomez.Ruy-Gom.'Twas aimed well at my heart;That I had strength enough but to retort!Dull life, so tamely must I from thee part?Curses and plagues! revenge, where art thou now?Meet, meet me at thy own dark house below![Dies.King.He's gone, and now there's not so vile a thingAs I—Don John.Remember, sir, you are a king.King.A king! it is too little: I'll be more,I tell thee: Nero was an emperor;He killed his mother, but I've that out-done,Murdered a loyal wife and guiltless son.Yet, Austria, why should I grow mad for that?Is it my fault I was unfortunate?Don John.Collect your spirits, sir, and calm your mind.King.Look to't; strange things I tell thee are designed.Thou, Austria, shalt grow old, and in thy ageDote, dote, my hero:—oh, a long gray beard,With eyes distilling rheum, and hollow cheeks,Will be such charms, thou canst not want success!But, above all, beware of jealousy;It was the dreadful curse that ruined me.Don John.Dread sir, no more.King.O heart! O Heaven! but stay,Named I not Heaven? I did, and at the word(Methought I saw't) the azure fabric stirred.Oh, for my queen and son the saints prepare;But I'll pursue and overtake them there;Whirl, stop the sun, arrest his charioteer;I'll ride in that: away! pull, pull him down!Oh, how I'll hurl the wild-fire as I run!Now, now I mount—[Runs off raving.Don John.Look to the king.See of this fair one, too, strict care be had.

May you be ever free from all that's ill!

Queen.And everlasting peace upon you dwell!

King.No more: this virtue's too divinely bright;My darkened soul, too conversant with night,Grows blind, and overcome with too much light.Here, raise them up—gently—ye slaves, down, down!Ye glorious toils, a sceptre and a crown,For ever be forgotten; in your stead,Only eternal darkness wrap my head.

Queen.Where are you? oh! farewell, I must be gone.

King.Blest happy soul, take not thy flight so soon:Stay till I die, then bear mine with thee too,And guard it up, which else must sink below.

Queen.From all my injuries and all my fears,From jealousy, love's bane, the worst of cares,Thus I remove to find that stranger, rest.Carlos, thy hand, receive me on thy breast;Within this minute how shall we be blest!

Don Car.Oh, far aboveWhatever wishes framed, or hopes designed;Thus, where we go, we shall the angels findFor ever praising, and for ever kind.

Queen.Make haste; in the first sphere I'll for you stay;Thence we'll rise both to everlasting day.Farewell—[Dies.

Don Car.I follow you; now close my eyes;[Leans on her bosom.Thus all o'er bliss the happy Carlos dies.[Dies.

King.They're gone, they're gone, where I must ne'er aspire.Run, sally out, and set the world on fire;Alarum Nature, let loose all the winds,Set free those spirits whom strong magic binds;Let the earth open all her sulphurous veins,The fiends start from their hell, and shake their chains;Till all things from their harmony decline,And the confusion be as great as mine!Here I'll lie down, and never more arise,Howl out my life, and rend the air with cries.

Don John.Hold, sir, afford your labouring heart some ease.

King.Oh! name it not: there's no such thing as peace.From these warm lips yet one soft kiss I'll take.How my heart beats! why won't the rebel break?My love, my Carlos, I'm thy father—speak.Oh! he regards not now my miseries,But's deaf to my complaint, as I have been to his.Oh! now I think on't better, all is well.Here's one that's just descending into hell;How comes it that he's not already gone?The sluggard's lazy, but I'll spur him on.Hey! how he flies![StabsRuy-Gomez.

Ruy-Gom.'Twas aimed well at my heart;That I had strength enough but to retort!Dull life, so tamely must I from thee part?Curses and plagues! revenge, where art thou now?Meet, meet me at thy own dark house below![Dies.

King.He's gone, and now there's not so vile a thingAs I—

Don John.Remember, sir, you are a king.

King.A king! it is too little: I'll be more,I tell thee: Nero was an emperor;He killed his mother, but I've that out-done,Murdered a loyal wife and guiltless son.Yet, Austria, why should I grow mad for that?Is it my fault I was unfortunate?

Don John.Collect your spirits, sir, and calm your mind.

King.Look to't; strange things I tell thee are designed.Thou, Austria, shalt grow old, and in thy ageDote, dote, my hero:—oh, a long gray beard,With eyes distilling rheum, and hollow cheeks,Will be such charms, thou canst not want success!But, above all, beware of jealousy;It was the dreadful curse that ruined me.

Don John.Dread sir, no more.

King.O heart! O Heaven! but stay,Named I not Heaven? I did, and at the word(Methought I saw't) the azure fabric stirred.Oh, for my queen and son the saints prepare;But I'll pursue and overtake them there;Whirl, stop the sun, arrest his charioteer;I'll ride in that: away! pull, pull him down!Oh, how I'll hurl the wild-fire as I run!Now, now I mount—[Runs off raving.

Don John.Look to the king.See of this fair one, too, strict care be had.

[Pointing toHenrietta.

Despair, how vast a triumph hast thou made!No more in love's enervate charms I'll lie;Shaking off softness, to the camp I'll fly,Where thirst of fame the active hero warms;And what I've lost in peace, regain in arms.[Exeunt.

EPILOGUE

Spoken by a Girl.

Now what d'ye think my message hither means?Yonder's the poet sick behind the scenes:He told me there was pity in my face,And therefore sent me here to make his peace.Let me for once persuade ye to be kind;For he has promised me to stand my friend;And if this time I can your kindness move,He'll write for me, he swears by all above,When I am big enough to be in love.Now won't you be good-natured, ye fine men?Indeed I'll grow as fast as e'er I can,And try if to his promise he'll be true.Think on't; when that time comes, you do not knowBut I may grow in love with some of you;Or, at the worst, I'm certain I shall seeAmongst you those who'll swear they're so with me.But now, if by my suit you'll not be won,—You know what your unkindness oft has done,—I'll e'en forsake the play-house, and turn nun.[14]

FOOTNOTES:[14]This alludes to the retirement of Mrs. Reeves, or, as she was usually termed, Madam Reeves, a very beautiful and accomplished actress, between whom and Dryden there was supposed to be rather too close an intimacy. She withdrew from the stage to a cloister.—Thornton.

[14]This alludes to the retirement of Mrs. Reeves, or, as she was usually termed, Madam Reeves, a very beautiful and accomplished actress, between whom and Dryden there was supposed to be rather too close an intimacy. She withdrew from the stage to a cloister.—Thornton.

Qui pelago credit, magno se fœnore tollit;Qui pugnas et castra petit, præcingitur auro;Vilis adulator picto jacet ebrius ostro,Et qui sollicitat nuptas, ad præmia peccat:Sola pruinosis horret facundia pannisAtque inopi lingua desertas invocat Artes.—

Petron. Arb. Satyric., Cap. 83.[15]

"TheOrphan" was first represented in 1680, and printed during the same year. Thornton, following Langbaine, states that the play was founded on the story of Brandon, which he reprints in his edition of Otway, and which forms part of a novel entitled "English Adventures by a Person of Honour," published in 1676, and said to be by Roger Boyle, Earl of Orrery. The adventures are supposed to occur to Henry VIII., who, when young, is reported to have often wandered abroad in disguise, like Haroun-Al-Raschid. He is represented going about with Brandon, a young nobleman, afterwards married to Henry's sister, widow of Louis XII., and founder of the Suffolk family. Brandon relates the circumstances (which are in substance identical with the story ofThe Orphan) as having happened to himself, the main incidents being alleged to be true. A yet earlier play,The Hog hath lost his Pearl, by Robert Tailor (1612-13), has very much the same foundation. As to the possibility of Monimia's deception through the personation of one twin brother by another, we must remember that this took place in darkness, and that not a word was spoken, total silence having been agreed upon when the secret meeting with Castalio was arranged, on account of the proximity of Acasto's chamber. Acasto, the guardian of Monimia, is believed to be a portrait of the first Duke of Ormond (see Carte's "Life of Ormond").

The Orphanwas acted at Covent Garden in 1815, and subsequently at the Bath Theatre in 1819, when Miss O'Neill performed the part of Monimia. The celebrated Mrs. Bracegirdle appeared in the character of Cordelio, Polydore's page, when she was a child about six years old.

Madam,

Afterhaving a great while wished to write something that might be worthy to lay at your Highness's feet, and finding it impossible: since the world has been so kind to me to judge of this poem to my advantage, as the most pardonable fault which I have made in its kind, I had sinned against myself, if I had not chosen this opportunity to implore (what my ambition is most fond of) your favour and protection.

For, though Fortune would not so far bless my endeavours as to encourage them with your Royal Highness's presence, when this came into the world, yet I cannot but declare it was my design and hopes it might have been your divertisement in that happy season when you returned again to cheer all those eyes that had before wept for your departure, and enliven all hearts that had drooped for your absence. When Wit ought to have paid its choicest tributes in, and Joy have known no limits, then I hoped my little mite would not have been rejected; though my ill fortune was too hard for me, and I lost a greater honour, by your Royal Highness's absence, than all the applauses of the world besides can make me reparation for.

Nevertheless, I thought myself not quite unhappy, so long as I had hopes this way yet to recompense my disappointment past; when I considered also that poetry might claim right to a little share in your favour: for Tasso and Ariosto, some of the best, have made their names eternal by transmitting to after-ages the glory of your ancestors; and under the spreading of that shade, where two of the best have planted their laurels, how honouredshould I be, who am the worst, if but a branch might grow for me!

I dare not think of offering anything in this address, that might look like a panegyric, for fear lest, when I have done my best, the world should condemn me for saying too little, and you yourself check me for meddling with a task unfit for my talent.

For the description of virtues and perfections so rare as yours are ought to be done by as deliberate, as skilful a hand; the features must be drawn very fine, to be like; hasty daubing would but spoil the picture, and make it so unnatural as must want false lights to set it off: and your virtue can receive no more lustre from praises than your beauty can be improved by art; which, as it charms the bravest Prince that ever amazed the world with his virtue, so let but all other hearts inquire into themselves, and then judge how it ought to be praised.

Your love, too, as none but that great hero who has it could deserve it, and therefore, by a particular lot from Heaven, was destined to so extraordinary a blessing, so matchless for itself, and so wondrous for its constancy, shall be remembered to your immortal honour, when all other transactions of the age you live in shall be forgotten.

But I forget that I am to ask pardon for the fault I have been all this while committing. Wherefore, I beg your Highness to forgive me this presumption, and that you will be pleased to think well of one who cannot help resolving, with all the actions of life, to endeavour to deserve it: nay, more, I would beg, and hope it may be granted, that I may, through yours, never want an advocate in his favour, whose heart and mind you have so entire a share in: it is my only portion and my fortune; I cannot but be happy so long as I have but hopes I may enjoy it, and I must be miserable should it ever be my ill fate to lose it.

This, with eternal wishes for your Royal Highness's content, happiness, and prosperity, in all humility is presented by

Your most obedient, and devoted Servant,THO. OTWAY.

FOOTNOTES:[15]High profits tempt the merchant to the main;The pouch of gold repays the soldier's pain;The parasite will dine, and fawns to winThe couch and cup; the pander sells his sin.Genius alone a shivering trade pursues,And courts without a fee the friendless muse.—A. W. V.[16]Mary Beatrix Eleonora of Este, daughter of the Duke of Modena. She was the Duke of York's second wife. The allusion to Tasso may have proved not altogether delightful to a Princess of this house.

[15]High profits tempt the merchant to the main;The pouch of gold repays the soldier's pain;The parasite will dine, and fawns to winThe couch and cup; the pander sells his sin.Genius alone a shivering trade pursues,And courts without a fee the friendless muse.—A. W. V.

[15]

High profits tempt the merchant to the main;The pouch of gold repays the soldier's pain;The parasite will dine, and fawns to winThe couch and cup; the pander sells his sin.Genius alone a shivering trade pursues,And courts without a fee the friendless muse.—A. W. V.

[16]Mary Beatrix Eleonora of Este, daughter of the Duke of Modena. She was the Duke of York's second wife. The allusion to Tasso may have proved not altogether delightful to a Princess of this house.

PROLOGUE.

To you, great judges in this writing age,The sons of wit, and patrons of the stage,With all those humble thoughts which still have swayedHis pride, much doubting, trembling, and afraidOf what is to his want of merit due,And awed by every excellence in you,The author sends to beg you would be kind,And spare those many faults you needs must find.You to whom wit a common foe is grown,The thing ye scorn and publicly disown;Though now perhaps you're here for other ends,He swears to me, ye ought to be his friends:For he ne'er called ye yet insipid tools;Nor wrote one line to tell you ye were fools:But says of wit ye have so large a store,So very much, you never will have more.He ne'er with libel treated yet the town,The names of honest men bedaubed and shown;Nay, never once lampooned the harmless lifeOf suburb-virgin, or of city-wife.Satire's the effect of poetry's disease,Which, sick of a lewd age, she vents for ease,But now her only strife should be to please;Since of ill fate the baneful cloud's withdrawn,And happiness again begins to dawn;Since back with joy and triumph he is come,[17]That always drove fears hence, ne'er brought them home.Oft has he ploughed the boisterous ocean o'er,Yet ne'er more welcome to the longing shore,Not when he brought home victories before.For then fresh laurels flourished on his brow,And he comes crowned with olive-branches now;Receive him! oh, receive him as his friends;Embrace the blessings which he recommends:Such quiet as your foes shall ne'er destroy;Then shake off fears, and clap your hands for joy.

FOOTNOTES:[17]The Duke of York; who had returned from Brussels, whither he had retired to escape the clamours of the Protestant party.

[17]The Duke of York; who had returned from Brussels, whither he had retired to escape the clamours of the Protestant party.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

SCENE—Bohemia.

THE ORPHAN.

EnterPaulinoandErnesto.

Paul. 'Tis strange, Ernesto, this severityShould still reign powerful in Acasto's mind,To hate the court, where he was bred, and lived,All honours heaped on him that power could give.Ern.'Tis true; he thither came a private gentleman,But young and brave, and of a familyAncient and noble as the empire holds.The honours he has gained are justly his,—He purchased them in war; thrice has he ledAn army 'gainst the rebels, and as oftenReturned with victory: the world has notA truer soldier, or a better subject.Paul.It was his virtue at first made me serve him;He is the best of masters, as of friends.I know he has lately been invited thither;Yet still he keeps his stubborn purpose; cries,He's old, and willingly would be at rest:I doubt there's deep resentment in his mind,For the late slight his honour suffered there.Ern.Has he not reason? When, for what he had borne,—Long, hard, and faithful toil,—he might have claimedPlaces in honour, and employment high,A huffing, shining, flattering, cringing coward,A canker-worm of peace, was raised above him.Paul.Yet still he holds just value for the king,Nor ever names him but with highest reverence.'Tis noble that—Ern.Oh! I have heard him, wanton in his praise,Speak things of him might charm the ears of envy.Paul.Oh! may he live till Nature's self grow old,And from her womb no more can bless the earth!For, when he dies, farewell all honour, bounty,All generous encouragement of arts!For Charity herself becomes a widow.Ern.No, he has two sons, that were ordained to beAs well his virtues', as his fortune's heirs.Paul.They're both of nature mild, and full of sweetness;They came twins from the womb, and still they liveAs if they would go twins too to the grave.Neither has anything he calls his own,But of each other's joys, as griefs, partaking;So very honestly, so well they love,As they were only for each other born.Ern.Never was parent in an offspring happier!He has a daughter too, whose blooming agePromises goodness equal to her beauty.Paul.And as there is a friendship 'twixt the brethren,So has her infant nature chosen tooA faithful partner of her thoughts and wishes,And kind companion of her harmless pleasures.Ern.You mean the beauteous orphan, fair Monimia.Paul.The same, the daughter of the brave Chamont.He was our lord's companion in the wars;Where such a wondrous friendship grew between themAs only death could end. Chamont's estateWas ruined in our late and civil discords;Therefore, unable to advance her fortune,He left his daughter to our master's care,—To such a care, as she scarce lost a father.Ern.Her brother to the emperor's wars went early,To seek a fortune, or a noble fate;Whence he with honour is expected back,And mighty marks of that great prince's favour.Paul.Our master never would permit his sonsTo launch for fortune in the uncertain world;But warns them to avoid both courts and camps,Where dilatory Fortune plays the jiltWith the brave, noble, honest, gallant man,To throw herself away on fools and knaves.Ern.They both have forward, generous, active spirits:'Tis daily their petition to their father,To send them forth where glory's to be gotten;They cry they're weary of their lazy home,Restless to do some thing that Fame may talk of.To-day they chased the boar, and near this timeShould be returned.Paul.Oh, that's a royal sport!We yet may see the old man in a morning,Lusty as health, come ruddy to the field,And there pursue the chase, as if he meantTo o'ertake time, and bring back youth again.

Paul. 'Tis strange, Ernesto, this severityShould still reign powerful in Acasto's mind,To hate the court, where he was bred, and lived,All honours heaped on him that power could give.

Ern.'Tis true; he thither came a private gentleman,But young and brave, and of a familyAncient and noble as the empire holds.The honours he has gained are justly his,—He purchased them in war; thrice has he ledAn army 'gainst the rebels, and as oftenReturned with victory: the world has notA truer soldier, or a better subject.

Paul.It was his virtue at first made me serve him;He is the best of masters, as of friends.I know he has lately been invited thither;Yet still he keeps his stubborn purpose; cries,He's old, and willingly would be at rest:I doubt there's deep resentment in his mind,For the late slight his honour suffered there.

Ern.Has he not reason? When, for what he had borne,—Long, hard, and faithful toil,—he might have claimedPlaces in honour, and employment high,A huffing, shining, flattering, cringing coward,A canker-worm of peace, was raised above him.

Paul.Yet still he holds just value for the king,Nor ever names him but with highest reverence.'Tis noble that—

Ern.Oh! I have heard him, wanton in his praise,Speak things of him might charm the ears of envy.

Paul.Oh! may he live till Nature's self grow old,And from her womb no more can bless the earth!For, when he dies, farewell all honour, bounty,All generous encouragement of arts!For Charity herself becomes a widow.

Ern.No, he has two sons, that were ordained to beAs well his virtues', as his fortune's heirs.

Paul.They're both of nature mild, and full of sweetness;They came twins from the womb, and still they liveAs if they would go twins too to the grave.Neither has anything he calls his own,But of each other's joys, as griefs, partaking;So very honestly, so well they love,As they were only for each other born.

Ern.Never was parent in an offspring happier!He has a daughter too, whose blooming agePromises goodness equal to her beauty.

Paul.And as there is a friendship 'twixt the brethren,So has her infant nature chosen tooA faithful partner of her thoughts and wishes,And kind companion of her harmless pleasures.

Ern.You mean the beauteous orphan, fair Monimia.

Paul.The same, the daughter of the brave Chamont.He was our lord's companion in the wars;Where such a wondrous friendship grew between themAs only death could end. Chamont's estateWas ruined in our late and civil discords;Therefore, unable to advance her fortune,He left his daughter to our master's care,—To such a care, as she scarce lost a father.

Ern.Her brother to the emperor's wars went early,To seek a fortune, or a noble fate;Whence he with honour is expected back,And mighty marks of that great prince's favour.

Paul.Our master never would permit his sonsTo launch for fortune in the uncertain world;But warns them to avoid both courts and camps,Where dilatory Fortune plays the jiltWith the brave, noble, honest, gallant man,To throw herself away on fools and knaves.

Ern.They both have forward, generous, active spirits:'Tis daily their petition to their father,To send them forth where glory's to be gotten;They cry they're weary of their lazy home,Restless to do some thing that Fame may talk of.To-day they chased the boar, and near this timeShould be returned.

Paul.Oh, that's a royal sport!We yet may see the old man in a morning,Lusty as health, come ruddy to the field,And there pursue the chase, as if he meantTo o'ertake time, and bring back youth again.

[ExeuntPaulinoandErnesto.

EnterCastalio,Polydore,andPage.

Cast.Polydore, our sportHas been to-day much better for the danger:When on the brink the foaming boar I met,And in his side thought to have lodged my spear,The desperate savage rushed within my force,And bore me headlong with him down the rock.Pol.But then—Cast.Ay, then, my brother, my friend Polydore,Like Perseus mounted on his wingèd steed,Came on, and down the dangerous precipice leapedTo save Castalio. 'Twas a god-like act!Pol.But when I came, I found you conqueror.Oh, my heart danced to see your danger past!The heat and fury of the chase was cooled,And I had nothing in my mind but joy.Cast.So, Polydore, methinks we might in warRush on together; thou shouldst be my guard,And I be thine; what is't could hurt us then?Now half the youth of Europe are in arms,How fulsome must it be to stay behind,And die of rank diseases here at home!Pol.No, let me purchase in my youth renown,To make me loved and valued when I'm old:I would be busy in the world, and learn,Not like a coarse and useless dunghill-weed,Fixed to one spot, and rot just as I grew.Cast.Our fatherHas ta'en himself a surfeit of the world,And cries it is not safe that we should taste it:I own I've duty very powerful in me;And, though I'd hazard all to raise my name,Yet he's so tender and so good a father,I could not do a thing to cross his will.Pol.Castalio, I have doubts within my heart,Which you, and only you, can satisfy:Will you be free and candid to your friend?Cast.Have I a thought my Polydore should not know?What can this mean?Pol.Nay, I'll conjure you too,By all the strictest bonds of faithful friendship,To show your heart as naked in this pointAs you would purge you of your sins to Heaven.Cast.I will.Pol.And, should I chance to touch it nearly, bear itWith all the sufferance of a tender friend.Cast.As calmly as the wounded patient bearsThe artist's hand that ministers his cure.Pol.That's kindly said. You know our father's ward,The fair Monimia;—is your heart at peace?Is it so guarded that you could not love her?Cast.Suppose I should?Pol.Suppose you should not, brother?Cast.You'd say, I must not.Pol.That would sound too roughly'Twixt friends and brothers, as we two are.Cast.Is love a fault?Pol.In one of us it may be:What if I love her?Cast.Then I must inform youI loved her first, and cannot quit the claim,But will preserve the birthright of my passion.Pol.You will?Cast.I will.Pol.No more, I've done.Cast.Why not?Pol.I told you I had done;But you, Castalio, would dispute it.Cast.No,Not with my Polydore; though I must ownMy nature obstinate and void of sufferance.Love reigns a very tyrant in my heart,Attended on his throne by all his guardsOf furious wishes, fears, and nice suspicions.I could not bear a rival in my friendship,I am so much in love, and fond of thee.Pol.Yet you would break this friendshipCast.Not for crowns.Pol.But for a toy you would, a woman's toy:Unjust Castalio!Cast.Pr'ythee, where's my fault?Pol.You love Monimia.Cast.Yes.Pol.And you would kill me,If I'm your rival.Cast.No, sure we're such friends,So much one man, that our affections tooMust be united, and the same as we are.Pol.I dote upon Monimia.Cast.Love her still;Win, and enjoy her.Pol.Both of us cannot.Cast.No matterWhose chance it prove; but let's not quarrel for't.Pol.You would not wed Monimia, would you?Cast.Wed her!No! were she all desire could wish, as fairAs would the vainest of her sex be thought,With wealth beyond what woman's pride could waste,She should not cheat me of my freedom. Marry!When I am old and weary of the world,I may grow desperate,And take a wife to mortify withal.Pol.It is an elder brother's duty soTo propagate his family and name:You would not have yours die and buried with you?Cast.Mere vanity, and silly dotage all:No, let me live at large, and when I die—Pol.Who shall possess the estate you leave?Cast.My friend,If he survives me; if not, my king,Who may bestow't again on some brave man,Whose honesty and services deserve one.Pol.'Tis kindly offered.Cast.By yon Heaven, I loveMy Polydore beyond all worldly joys,And would not shock his quiet, to be blestWith greater happiness than man e'er tasted.Pol.And by that Heaven eternally I swearTo keep the kind Castalio in my heart.Whose shall Monimia be?Cast.No matter whose.Pol.Were you not with her privately last night?Cast.I was, and should have met her here again;But the opportunity shall now be thine;Myself will bring thee to the scene of love:But have a care, by friendship I conjure thee,That no false play be offered to thy brother!Urge all thy powers to make thy passion prosper,But wrong not mine.Pol.Heaven blast me if I do!Cast.If't prove thy fortune, Polydore, to conquer,(For thou hast all the arts of fine persuasion!)Trust me, and let me know thy love's success,That I may ever after stifle mine.Pol.Though she be dearer to my soul than restTo weary pilgrims, or to misers gold,To great men power, or wealthy cities pride,Rather than wrong Castalio, I'd forget her.For if ye, powers, have happiness in store,When ye would shower down joys on Polydore,In one great blessing all your bounty send,That I may never lose so dear a friend!

Pol.But then—

Cast.Ay, then, my brother, my friend Polydore,Like Perseus mounted on his wingèd steed,Came on, and down the dangerous precipice leapedTo save Castalio. 'Twas a god-like act!

Pol.But when I came, I found you conqueror.Oh, my heart danced to see your danger past!The heat and fury of the chase was cooled,And I had nothing in my mind but joy.

Cast.So, Polydore, methinks we might in warRush on together; thou shouldst be my guard,And I be thine; what is't could hurt us then?Now half the youth of Europe are in arms,How fulsome must it be to stay behind,And die of rank diseases here at home!

Pol.No, let me purchase in my youth renown,To make me loved and valued when I'm old:I would be busy in the world, and learn,Not like a coarse and useless dunghill-weed,Fixed to one spot, and rot just as I grew.

Cast.Our fatherHas ta'en himself a surfeit of the world,And cries it is not safe that we should taste it:I own I've duty very powerful in me;And, though I'd hazard all to raise my name,Yet he's so tender and so good a father,I could not do a thing to cross his will.

Pol.Castalio, I have doubts within my heart,Which you, and only you, can satisfy:Will you be free and candid to your friend?

Cast.Have I a thought my Polydore should not know?What can this mean?

Pol.Nay, I'll conjure you too,By all the strictest bonds of faithful friendship,To show your heart as naked in this pointAs you would purge you of your sins to Heaven.

Cast.I will.

Pol.And, should I chance to touch it nearly, bear itWith all the sufferance of a tender friend.

Cast.As calmly as the wounded patient bearsThe artist's hand that ministers his cure.

Pol.That's kindly said. You know our father's ward,The fair Monimia;—is your heart at peace?Is it so guarded that you could not love her?

Cast.Suppose I should?

Pol.Suppose you should not, brother?

Cast.You'd say, I must not.

Pol.That would sound too roughly'Twixt friends and brothers, as we two are.

Cast.Is love a fault?

Pol.In one of us it may be:What if I love her?

Cast.Then I must inform youI loved her first, and cannot quit the claim,But will preserve the birthright of my passion.

Pol.You will?

Cast.I will.

Pol.No more, I've done.

Cast.Why not?

Pol.I told you I had done;But you, Castalio, would dispute it.

Cast.No,Not with my Polydore; though I must ownMy nature obstinate and void of sufferance.Love reigns a very tyrant in my heart,Attended on his throne by all his guardsOf furious wishes, fears, and nice suspicions.I could not bear a rival in my friendship,I am so much in love, and fond of thee.

Pol.Yet you would break this friendship

Cast.Not for crowns.

Pol.But for a toy you would, a woman's toy:Unjust Castalio!

Cast.Pr'ythee, where's my fault?

Pol.You love Monimia.

Cast.Yes.

Pol.And you would kill me,If I'm your rival.

Cast.No, sure we're such friends,So much one man, that our affections tooMust be united, and the same as we are.

Pol.I dote upon Monimia.

Cast.Love her still;Win, and enjoy her.

Pol.Both of us cannot.

Cast.No matterWhose chance it prove; but let's not quarrel for't.

Pol.You would not wed Monimia, would you?

Cast.Wed her!No! were she all desire could wish, as fairAs would the vainest of her sex be thought,With wealth beyond what woman's pride could waste,She should not cheat me of my freedom. Marry!When I am old and weary of the world,I may grow desperate,And take a wife to mortify withal.

Pol.It is an elder brother's duty soTo propagate his family and name:You would not have yours die and buried with you?

Cast.Mere vanity, and silly dotage all:No, let me live at large, and when I die—

Pol.Who shall possess the estate you leave?

Cast.My friend,If he survives me; if not, my king,Who may bestow't again on some brave man,Whose honesty and services deserve one.

Pol.'Tis kindly offered.

Cast.By yon Heaven, I loveMy Polydore beyond all worldly joys,And would not shock his quiet, to be blestWith greater happiness than man e'er tasted.

Pol.And by that Heaven eternally I swearTo keep the kind Castalio in my heart.Whose shall Monimia be?

Cast.No matter whose.

Pol.Were you not with her privately last night?

Cast.I was, and should have met her here again;But the opportunity shall now be thine;Myself will bring thee to the scene of love:But have a care, by friendship I conjure thee,That no false play be offered to thy brother!Urge all thy powers to make thy passion prosper,But wrong not mine.

Pol.Heaven blast me if I do!

Cast.If't prove thy fortune, Polydore, to conquer,(For thou hast all the arts of fine persuasion!)Trust me, and let me know thy love's success,That I may ever after stifle mine.

Pol.Though she be dearer to my soul than restTo weary pilgrims, or to misers gold,To great men power, or wealthy cities pride,Rather than wrong Castalio, I'd forget her.For if ye, powers, have happiness in store,When ye would shower down joys on Polydore,In one great blessing all your bounty send,That I may never lose so dear a friend!

[ExeuntCastalioandPolydore.

EnterMonimia.

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