[They surround him, fighting; VILLEROY enters with two servants; they rescue him; CARLOS and his party fly.

Vil. How are you, sir? Mortally hurt, I fear. Take care, and lead him in.

Bir. I thank you for this goodness, sir; though 'tis

Bestowed upon a very wretch; and death,
Though from a villain's hand, had been to me
An act of kindness, and the height of mercy-
But I thank you, sir.
[He is led in.

They rack, they tear; let them carve out my limbs,

Divide my body to their equal claims!
My soul is only Biron's; that is free,
And thus I strike for him and liberty.

[Going to stab herself, VILLEROY runs in and prevents her, by taking the dagger from her. Vil. Angels defend and save thee! Attempt thy precious life! the treasury Of nature's sweets! life of my little world! Lay violent hands upon thy innocent self!

Isa. Swear I am innocent, and I'll believe you. What would you have with me? Pray let me go. Are you there, sir! You are the very man Have done all this-You would have made Me believe you married me; but the fool Was wiser, I thank you: 'tis not all gospel You men preach upon that subject.

Vil. Dost thou not know me, love? Isa. O yes: very well. [Staring on him. You are the widow's comforter, that marries Any woman when her husband's out of the way: But I'll never, never take your word again.

Vil. I am thy loving husband.

Isa. I have none; no husband [Weeping. Never had but one, and he died at Candy! Did he not? I am sure you told me so; you, Or somebody, with just such a lying look, As you have now. Speak, did he not die there? Vil. He did, my life.

Isa. But swear it, quickly swear,

BIRON enters bloody, and leaning upon his sword.

Before that screaming evidence appears,
In bloody proof against me-

[She, seeing BIRON, swoons in a chair; VILLEROY helps her.

Vil. Help there! Nurse, where are you? Ha! I am distracted too!

[Going to call for help, sees BIRON.

Biron alive!
Bir. The only wretch on earth that must not

live.

Vil. Biron or Villeroy must not, that's decreed.

Bir. You saved me from the hands of murderers:

Would you had not, for life's my greatest

plague!

And then, of all the world, you are the man
I would not be obliged to-Isabella!

I came to fall before thee: I had died
Happy not to have found your Villeroy here:
A long farewell, and a last parting kiss.

[Kisses her. Vil. A kiss! Confusion! It must be your last. [Draws.

Bir. I know it must-Here I give up that death

You but delayed: since what is past has been The work of fate, thus we must finish it. Thrust home, be sure.

[Faints.

Vil. Alas! he faints: some help there! Bir. 'Tis all in vain, my sorrows soon will end.

Oh, Villeroy! let a dying wretch entreat you To take this letter to my father. My Isabella! Could'st thou but hear me, my last words should

bless thee.

[Servants going to raise her.

Isa. Never, neverYou have divorced us once, but shall no moreHelp, help me, Biron! Ha! bloody and dead! Oh, murder! murder! you have done this deed; Vengeance and murder! bury us togetherDo any thing but part us.

Vil. Gently, gently raise her. She must be forced away.

[She drags the body after her: they get her into their arms, and carry her off. Isa. Oh, they tear me! Cut off my handsLet me leave something with him— They'll clasp him fast

Oh, cruel, cruel men!

This you must answer one day.

Vil. Good nurse, take care of her.

But I must say that you have murdered him;
And will say nothing else, till justice draws
Upon our side, at the loud call of blood,
To execute so foul a murderer.

Bel. Poor Biron! Is this thy welcome home!
Fr. Rise, sir; there is a comfort in revenge,
Which yet is left you.
[To C. BALD.
Car. Take the body hence. [BIRON carried off.
C. Bald. What could provoke you?
To a base murder, which, I find, you think
Vil. Nothing could provoke me
Me guilty of. I know my innocence;
My servants too can witness that I drew
My sword in his defence, to rescue him.
Bel. Let thy servants be called.
Fr. Let us hear what they can say.
Car. What they can say! Why, what should
servants say?

They're his accomplices, his instruments,
And will not charge themselves. If they could do
A murder for his service, they can lie,

Lie nimbly, and swear hard to bring him off.-
You say you drew your sword in his defence:
Who were his enemies? Did he need defence?
Had he wronged any one? Could he have cause
To apprehend a danger, but from you?
And yet you rescued him! No, no, he came
Unseasonably (that was all his crime),
Unluckily to interrupt your sport:

You were new married-married to his wife;
And therefore you, and she, and all of you,
(For all of you I must believe concerned)
Combined to murder him out of the way.
Bel. If it is so-

Car. It can be only so.
Fr. Indeed it has a face-

Car. As black as hell.

C. Bald. The law will do me justice: send for the magistrate.

Car. I'll go myself for him

[Erit.

Vil. These strong presumptions, I must own,

indeed,

Are violent against me; but I have
A witness, and on this side heaven too.
-Open that door.

[Door opens, and PEDRO is brought forward by VILLEROY'S servants. Here's one can tell you all.

Ped. All, all; save me but from the rack, I'll

Vil. I hope in heaven.

Car. Canst thou pity!

Wish him in Heaven, when thou hast done a

deed,

That must forever cut thee from the hopes
Of ever coming there?

Vil. I do not blame you

You have a brother's right to be concerned
For his untimely death.

Car. Untimely death, indeed!

Vil. But yet you must not say I was the cause. Car. Not you the cause! Why, who should murder him?

We do not ask you to accuse yourself.]

Vil. You and your accomplices designed To murder Biron?- -Speak.

Bel. Who set you on to act this horrid deed? C. Bald. I'll know the villain; give me quick his name,

Or I will tear it from thy bleeding heart!
Ped. I will confess.

C. Bald. Do then.

Ped. It was my master, Carlos, your own son. C. Bald. Oh, monstrous! monstrous! most unnatural!

Bel. Did he employ you to murder his own brother?

Ped. He did; and he was with us when 'twas done.

C. Bald. If this be true, this horrid, horrid tale,

It is but just upon me: Biron's wrongs
Must be revenged: and I the cause of all!
Fr. What will you do with him?
C. Bald. Take him apart-

I know too much.

[PEDRO goes in. Vil. I had forgot-Your wretched, dying son Gave me this letter for you.

[Gives it to BALDWIN.

I dare deliver it. It speaks of me,
I pray to have it read."

C. Bald. You know the hand.
Bel. I know 'tis Biron's hand.
C. Bald. Pray, read it.

'SIR,

[BELFORD reads the letter.

Vil. How!-Did you know it, then?
C. Bald. Amazement all!

Enter CARLOS, with Officers.

Oh, Cros! are you come? Your brother here, Here, in a wretched letter, lays his death To you and me-Have you done any thing To hasten his sad end?

Car. Bless me, sir, I do any thing! Who, I? C. Bald. He talks of letters that were sent to us; I never heard of any. Did you know He was alive?

Car. Alive! Heaven knows, not I.

C. Bald. Had you no news of him, from a report,

Or letter, never?

Cur. Never, never I.

Bel. That's strange, indeed: I know he often writ

To lay before you the conditions [To C. BALD,
Of his hard slavery: and more I know,
That he had several answers to his letters.
He said they came from you; you are his bro-
ther.

Car. Never from me.

Bel. That will appear.

The letters, I believe, are still about him; For some of them I saw but yesterday.

C. Bald. What did those answers say? Bel. I cannot speak to the particulars; But I remember well, the sum of them Was much the same, and all agreed, That there was nothing to be hoped from you: That 'twas your barbarous resolution To let him perish there.

C. Bald. Oh, Carlos! Carlos! hadst thou been a brother

Car. This is a plot upon me. I never knew He was in slavery, or was alive,

Or heard of him, before this fatal hour.
Bel. There, sir, I must confront you.
He sent you a letter, to my knowledge, last
night;

And you sent him word you would come to him.
I fear you came too soon.

C. Buld. 'Tis all too plain. Bring out that wretch before him.

[PEDRO produced. Car. Ha! Pedro there!-Then I am caught

indeed!

Bel. You start at sight of him; He has confessed the bloody deed.

Car. Well, then, he has confessed, And I must answer it.

Bel. Is there no more?

Car. Why, what would you have more? I know the worst,

And I expect it.

C. Bald. Why hast thou done all this? Car. Why, that which damns most men has ruined me;

The making of my fortune. Biron stood
Between me and your favour; while he lived,
I had not that; hardly was thought a son,
And not at all a-kin to your estate.

I could not bear a younger brother's lot,
To live depending upon courtesy-
Had you provided for me like a father,
I had been still a brother.

C. Buld. 'Tis too true!

I never loved thee, as I should have done:
It was my sin, and I am punished for it.
Oh! never may distinction rise again
In families; let parents be the same
To all their children; common in their care,
And in their love of them-I am unhappy,
For loving one too well.

Vil. You knew your brother lived; why did you take

Such pains to marry me to Isabella?
Car. I had my reasons for❜t-

Vil. More than I thought you had.
Car. But one was this--

I knew my brother loved his wife so well,
That if he ever should come home again,
He could not long outlive the loss of her.

Bel. If you relied on that, why did you kill him?

Car. To make all sure. Now, you are an

swered all.

A father cannot find a name for thee.
But parricide is highest treason, sure,
To sacred nature's law; and must be so,
So sentenced in thy crimes. Take him away--
The violent remedy is found at last,

That drives thee out, thou poison of my blood,
Infected long, and only found in thee.

[CARLOS led off. Grant me, sweet Heaven! the patience to go through

The torment of my cure-Here, here begins
The operation-Alas! she's mad.

Enter ISABELLA distracted, held by her Women ; hair dishevelled; her little Son running in before, being afraid of her.

Vil. My Isabella! poor unhappy wretch! What can I say to her?

Isa. Nothing, nothing; 'tis a babbling worldI'll hear no more on't. When does the court

But here's a little flaming cherubimChild. Oh, save me, save me!

[Running to Baldwin.

Isa. The Mercury of Heaven, with silver wings,

Impt for the flight, to overtake his ghost,
And bring him back again!

Child. I fear she'll kill me.

C. Bald. She will not hurt thee.

[She flings away. Isa. Will nothing do? I did not hope to find Justice on earth; 'tis not in heaven neither. Biron has watched his opportunitySoftly; he steals it from the sleeping gods, And sends it thus[Stabs herself.

Vil. She's gone, and all my joys of life with
her!-

Where are your officers of justice now?
Seize, bind me, drag me to the bloody bar!
Accuse, condemn me; let the sentence reach
My hated life- -No matter how it comes;
I'll think it just, and thank you as it falls.
Self-murder is denied me; else how soon
Could I be past the pain of my remembrance!
But I must live, grow grey with lingering grief,
To die at last in telling this sad tale.

C. Bald. Poor wretched orphan of most
wretched parents!

'Scaping the storm, thou'rt thrown upon a rock,

To perish there. The very rocks would melt,
Soften their nature, sure, to foster thee;
I find it by myself: my flinty heart,
That barren rock, on which thy father starved,
Opens its springs of nourishment to thee.
There's not a vein but shall run milk for thee.
Oh, had I pardoned my poor Biron's fault,
His first, his only fault-this had not been!
To erring youth there's some compassion due ;
But while with rigour you their crimes pursue,
What's their misfortune, is a crime for you.
Hence, learn offending children to forgive:
Leave punishment to Heaven-'tis Heaven's pre-
rogative.
[Exeunt omnes,

VOL. I.

2 H

Now tell me, when you saw the lady die,
Were you not puzzled for a reason why?
A buxom damsel, and of play-house race,
Not to out-live th' enjoyment of a brace!
Were that the only marriage curse in store,
How many would compound to suffer more,
And yet live on, with comfort, to threescore,
But on our Exits there is no relying,
We women are so whimsical in dying.
Some pine away for loss of ogling fellows;
Nay some have died for love, as stories tell us.
Some, say our histories, though long ago,
For having undergone a rape, or so,
Plung'd the fell dagger, without more ado.

}

But time has laugh'd those follies out
fashion,

And sure they'll never gain the approbation
Of ladies who consult their reputation.
For if a rape must be esteemed a curse,
Grim death and publication make it worse.

Should the opinion of the world be try'd, They'll scarce give judgment on the plaintiff's

side;

For all must own, 'tis most egregious nonsense,
To die for being pleas'd with a safe conscience.
Nay, look not on your fans, nor turn away,
For tell me, ladies, why d'you marry, pray,
But to enjoy your wishes as you may?