Vil. You and your accomplices design'd To murder Biron ?- -Speak.

Ped. We did.

Vil. Did you engage upon your private wrongs,

Or were employ'd ?

Ped. He never did us wrong.

Vil. You were set on then?

Ped. We were set on.

Vil. What do you know of me?

Ped. Nothing, nothing:

You sav'd his life, and have discover'd me.

Vil. He has acquitted me.

If you would be resolv'd of any thing,

He stands upon his answer.

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 un natural!

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 reveng'd; and I the cause of all.

Fr. What will you do with him?

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C. Bald. Take him a-part

I know too much.

[Pedro goes in.

dying son [Gives it to Baldwin.

Vil. I had forgot-Your wretched,
Gave me this letter for you.

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.

"I find I am come only to lay my death at your door. I am now going out of the world; but cannot forgive you, nor my brother Carlos, for not hinder! ing my poor wife Isabella from marrying with Villeroy; when you both knew, from so many letters, that I was alive.

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

Enter CARLOS, with Officers.

BIRON."

Oh, Carlos! 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! Heav'n knows, not I.

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

Or letter, never?

Car. Never, never I.

Bel. That's strange, indeed: I know he often writ To lay before you the conditions

Of his hard slavery and more I know,

That he had several answers to his letters.

[To C. Bald.

He said, they came from you; you are his brother.

Car. Never from me.

Bel. That will appear.

The letters, I believe, are still about him;
For some of 'em 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 'em
Was much the same, and all agreed,
That there was nothing to be hop'd 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.

Bring out that wretch before him. [Pedro produced. Car. Ha! Pedro there!-Then I am caught, in» deed.

Bel. You start at sight of him; He has confess'd the bloody deed.

Car. Well then, he has confess'd, 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 ruin'd

me;

The making of my fortune. Biron stood

Between me and your favour: while he liv'd,

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. Bald. 'Tis too true;

I never lov'd thee, as I should have done:
It was my sin, and I am punish'd for't.
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 'em-I am unhappy,

For loving one too well.

Vil. You knew your brother liv'd; 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 lov'd his wife so well,
That if he ever should come home again,
He could not long outlive the loss of her.

Bel. If you rely'd on that, why did you kill him?
Car. To make all sure. Now, you are answer'd

all.

Where must I go? I am tired of your questions.

C. Bald. I leave the judge to tell thee what thou

art;

A father cannot find a name for thee.

But parricide is highest treason, sure,
To sacred nature's law; and must be so,

So sentenc'd 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 foul in thee. [Carlos led off
Grant me, sweet Heav'n! the patience to go thro❜
The torment of my cure-Here, here begins
The operation-Alas! she's mad.

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