Told all the dreadful tale.

Alon. What groan was that?
Zan. As I have been a vulture to my heart,
So will I be a raven to thine ear.

Enter MANUEL, who whispers Alvarez.
And true as ever snuff 'd the scent of blood,
As ever flapp'd its heavy wing against
The window of the sick, and croak'd despair.
Thy wife is dead.

Alv. The dreadful news is true.

Alon. Prepare the rack; invent new tortures for him.

Zan. This, too, is well. The fix'd and noble mind
Turns all occurrence to its own advantage;
And I'll make vengeance of calamity.
Were I not thus reduced, thou wouldst not know
That, thus reduced, I dare defy thee still.
Torture thou may'st, but thou shalt ne'er de-
spise me,

The blood will follow where the knife is driven,
The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear,
And sighs and cries by nature grow on pain.
But those are foreign to the soul; not mine
The groans that issue, or the tears that fall;
They disobey me: on the rack I scorn thee,
As when my faulchion clove thy helm in battle.
Alv. Peace, villain!

Zan. While I live, old man, I'll speak:
And well I know thou darest not kill me yet;

The wounds that pain'd, the wounds that murdur'd me,

Were given before; I was already dead;
This only marks my body for the grave.
Afric, thou art reveng'd-O, Leonora !

(Dies.)

Zan. Good ruffians, give me leave; my blood is yours,

The wheel's prepar'd, and you shall have it all;
Let me but look one moment on the dead,
And pay yourselves with gazing on my pangs.

(He goes to Alonzo's body.) Is this Alonzo? Where's the haughty mien? Is that the hand which smote me? Heavens, how pale

And art thou dead? So is my enmity.

I war not with the dust. The great, the proud,
The conqueror of Afric was my foe.

A lion preys not upon carcases.
This was the only method to subdue me.
Terror and doubt fall on me; all thy good
Now blazes, all thy guilt is in the grave.
Never had man such funeral applause;
If I lament thee, sure thy worth was great.
O vengeance, I have followed thee too far,

And to receive me, hell blows all her fires. Exeunt.

ACT I.

LADY FREELOVE. MRS. OAKLY. HARRIOT. SERVANTS.

721

within.

1

Mrs. O. (Within.) Don't tell me: I know it is so: it's monstrous, and I will not bear it. Oak. (Within.) But, my dear!Mrs. O. Nay, nay. (Squabbling within.) Enter MRS. OAKLY, with a letter, jollowed by OAKLY.

Mrs. O. Say what you will, Mr. Oakly, you shall never persuade me but this is some filthy intrigue of yours.

Oak. I can assure you, my love

Mrs. 0. Your love! Don't I know your-Tell me, I say, this instant, every circumstance relating to this letter.

Oak. How can I tell you, when you will not so much as let me see it?

Mrs. O. Lookye, Mr. Oakly, this usage is not to

running over the whole town, nay, the whole kingdom, too, in pursuit of your amours! Did not I discover that you was great with mademoiselle, my own woman? Did not you contract a shameful familiarity with Mrs. Freeman? Did not I detect your intrigue with Lady Wealthy? Was not you

Oak. Oons! madam, the Grand Turk himself has not half so many mistresses. You throw me out of all patience! Do I know anybody but our common friends? Am I visited by anybody that does not visit you? Do I ever go out, unless you go with me? And am I not as constantly by your side, as if I were tied to your apron-strings?

Mrs. O. Go, go! you are a false man. Have not I found you out a thousand times? And have not I this moment a letter in my hand, which convinces me of your baseness? Let me know the whole affair, or I will

Oak. Let you know! Let me know what you would have of me? You stop my letter before it comes to my hands, and then expect that I should know the contents of it!

Mrs. O. Heaven be praised! I stopped it. suspected some of these doings for some time past! But the letter informs me who she is, and I'll be revenged on her sufficiently. Oh, you base man, you!

Oak. I beg, my dear, that you would moderate your passion. Shew me the letter, and I'll convince you of my innocence.

Mrs. O. Innocence! abominable. Innocence! But I am not to be made such a fool;-I am convinced of your perfidy, and very sure that Oak. 'Sdeath and fire! your passion hurries you out of your senses. Will you hear me? Mrs. O. No; you are a base man; and I will not hear you.

Oak. Why, then, my dear, since you will neither talk reasonably yourself, nor listen to reason from me, I shall take my leave till you are in a better humour. So, your servant! (Going.)

Mrs. O. Ay, go, you cruel man! Go to your mistresses, and leave your poor wife to her miseries. How unfortunate a woman am I! I could die with vexation. (Throwing herself into a chair.)

Oak. There it is! Now dare not I stir a step further: if I offer to go, she is in one of her fits in an instant. Never sure was a woman at once of so violent and so delicate a constitution! What shall I say to soothe her? (Aside.) Nay, never make thyself so uneasy, my dear. Come, come, you know I love you.

Mrs. O. I know you hate me; and that your unkindness and barbarity will be the death of me. (Whining.)

Oak. Do not vex yourself at this rate; I love you most passionately-indeed I do. This must be some mistake.

Mrs. O. Oh! I am an unhappy woman.

Oak. Dry up thy tears, my love, and be comforted. You will find that I am not to blame in this matter. Come, let me see this letter; nay, you shall not deny me. (Takes the letter.) [sure. Mrs. O. There! take it; you know the hand I am Oak. (Reads.) To Charles Oakly, Esq.-Hand! 'Tis a clerk-like hand, a good round text; and was certainly never penned by a fair lady.

Mrs. O Ay, laugh at me, do!

Oak. Forgive me, my love, I did not mean to laugh at thee. But what says the letter? (Reads.) "Daughter eloped-you must be privy to it -scandalous dishonourable-satisfaction-revenge-um, um, um, -injured father, HENRY RUSSET."

Mrs. O. (Rising.) Well, sir, you see I have detected you; tell me this instant where she is concealed.

Oak. So-so-80-This hurts me: I'm shocked. (To himself.)

Mrs. O. What! are you confounded with your guilt? Have I caught you at last?

Oak. O! that wicked Charles; to decoy a young lady from her parents in the country! The profligacy of the young fellows of this age is abominable. (To himself.)

Mrs. O. (Half aside, and musing.) Charles!-Let me see. Charles!-No; impossible! This is all a trick. [himself.) Oak. He has certainly ruined this poor lady. (To Mrs. O. Art, art; all art! There's a sudden turn now! You have ready wit for an intrigue, I flud. Oak. Such an abandoned action! I wish I had never had the care of him.

Mrs. O. Prodigiously well, sir! You do it very well. Nay, keep it up, carry it on! there's nothing like going through with it. O, you artful creature! But, sir, I am not to be so easily satisfied. I do not believe a syllable of all this. Give me the letter (Snatches the letter.)-You shall sorely repent this vile business, for I am resolved that I will know the bottom of it. [Exit.

Oak. This is beyond all patience. Provoking woman! Her absurd suspicions interpret every thing the wrong way. But this ungracious boy! in how many troubles will he involve his own and this lady's family! I never imagined that he was of such abandoned principles.

Enter MAJOR OAKLY and CHARLES. Charles. Good-morrow, sir!

Maj. O. Good-morrow, brother, good-morrow. What; you have been at the old work, I find. I heard you-ding dong! i'faith, she has rung & noble peal in your ears. But now, now? Why sure you've had a remarkable warm bout on't: you seem more ruffled than usual.

Oak. I am, indeed, brother! thanks to that young gentleman there. Have a care, Charles! you may be called to a severe account for this. The honour of a family, sir, is no such light matter. Charles. Sir!

Maj. O. Heyday! What, has a curtain lecture produced a lecture of morality? What is all this?

Oak. To a profligate mind, perhaps, these things may appear agreeable in the beginning; but don't you tremble at the consequences?

Charles. I see, sir, that you are displeased with me; but I am quite at a loss to guess at the occasion. [set?

Oak. Tell me, sir!-where is Miss Harriot RusCharles. Miss Harriot Russet;-Sir, explain. Oak. Have you not decoyed her from her father? Charles. I!-Decoyed her-decoyed my Harriot! I would sooner die than do her the least injury. What can this mean? [after all

Maj. O. I believe the young dog has been at her, Oak. I was in hope, Charles, you had better principles. But there's a letter just come from her

father

Charles. A letter! - What letter? Dear sir, give it me. Some intelligence of my Harriot, Major? The letter, sir, the letter this moment, for heaven's sake! [innocence

Oak. If this warmth, Charles, tends to prove your Charles. Dear sir, excuse me; I'll prove anything: let me but see this letter, and I'll

Oak. Let you see it! I could hardly get a sight of it myself, Mrs. Oakley has it. Charles. Has she got it? Major, I'll be with you again directly. [Exit hastily.

Maj. O Heyday! The devil's in the boy!

What

Oak, I like this emotion; it looks well: it may serve, too, to convince my wife of the folly of her suspicions. Would to heaven I could quiet them for ever!

Maj. O. Why, pray now, my dear naughty brother, what heinous offence have you committed this morning? what new cause of suspicion? You have been asking one of the maids to mend your ruffle, I suppose; or have been hanging your head out at the window, when a pretty young woman has passed by; or

Oak. How can you trifle with my distresses, Major? Did I not tell you it was about a letter? Maj. 0. A letter!-hum-A suspicious circumstance to be sure! What! and the seal a true lover's knot now, eh? or a heart transfixed with darts; or possibly the wax bore the industrious impression of a thimble; or perhaps the folds were lovingly connected by a wafer, pricked with a pin, and the direction written in a vile scrawl, and not a word spelt as it should be! Ha, ha, ha! Oak. Pooh! brother-Whatever it was, the letter, you find, was for Charles, not for me. This outrageous jealousy is the devil.

Maj. O. Mere matrimonial blessings and domestic comfort, brother! Jealousy is a certain sign of love.

Oak. Love! it is this very love that hath made us both so miserable. Her love for me has confined me to my house, like a state pensioner, without the liberty of my friends, or the use of pen, ink, or paper; while my love for her has made such a fool of me, that I never had the spirit to contradict her.

Maj. O. Ay, ay, there you've hit it; Mrs. Oakly would make an excellent wife, if you did but know how to manage her.

Oak. You are a rare fellow indeed to talk of managing a wife. A debauched bachelor; a rattle-brained, rioting fellow-who have picked up your commonplace notions of women in bagnios, taverns, and the camp; whose most refined commerce with the sex has been in order to delude country girls at your quarters, or to besiege the virtue of abigails, milliners, or mantua-makers' apprentices.

Maj. O. So much the better!-so much the better! Women are all alike in the main, brother; high or low, married or single, quality or no quality. I have found them so, from a duchess down to a milk-maid; every woman is a tyrant at the bottom. But they could never make a fool of me. No, no; no woman should ever domineer over me, let her be mistress or wife.

Oak. Single men can be no judges in these cases. They must happen in all families. But when things are driven to extremities; to see a woman in uneasiness-a woman one loves too-one's wife, who can withstand it? You neither speak nor think like a man that has loved and been married, Major.

am

Maj. O. I wish I could hear a married man speak my language. I'm a bachelor, it's true; but no bad judge of your case for all that. I know yours and Mrs. Oakly's disposition to a hair. She is all impetuosity and fire-a very magazine of touchwood and gunpowder. You are hot enough, too, upon occasion; but then it's over in an instant. In comes love and conjugal affection, as you call it; that is, mere folly and weakness-and you draw off your forces, just when you should pursue the

209

attack, and follow with spirit, and the day a Oak. Why, what would youve me do? our own, broera at her Maj. O. Do as you please for on month, whether she likes it or not; and I'll answer for it, she will consent you shall do as you please all her life after. In short, do but shew yourself a man of spirit, leave off whining about love and tenderness, and nonsense, and the business is done, brother. Oak. I believe you are in the right, Major! I see you are in the right. I'll do it-I'll certainly do it. But then it hurts me to the soul, to think what uneasiness I shall give her. The first opening of my design will throw her into fits; and the pursuit of it, perhaps, may be fatal.

Maj. O. Fits! ha, ha, ha! I'll engage to cure her of her fits. Nobody understands hysterical cases better than I do; besides, my sister's symptoms are not very dangerous. Did you ever hear of her falling into a fit when you were not by? Was she ever found in convulsions in her closet? No no; these fits, the more care you take of them, the more you will increase the distemper; let them alone, and they will wear themselves out, I warrant you.

Oak. True, very true; you are certainly in the right; I'll follow your advice. Where do you dine to-day? I'll order the coach, and go with you.

Maj. O. O brave! keep up this spirit, and you are made for ever.

Oak. You shall see now, Major! Who's there?
Enter Servant.

Order the coach directly. I shall dine out to-day.
Serv. The coach, sir? Now, sir?
Oak. Ay, now, immediately.

Serv. Now, sir?-the-the-coach, sir?-that ismy mistress

Maj. O. Sirrah! do as you are bid. Bid them put to this instant.

Maj. O. You won't.

Oak. I will. I'll be a fool to her no longer. But harkye! Major, my hat and gloves lie in my study. I'll go and steal them out, while she is busy talking with Charles.

Maj. O. Steal them! for shame! Pr'ythee take them boldly; call for them; make them bring them to you here; and go out with spirit, in the face of your whole family.

Oak. No, no;-you are wrong;-let her rave after I am gone; and when I return, you know, I shall exert myself with more propriety, after this open affront to her authority.

Maj. O. Well, take your own way.

Oak. Ay, ay: let me manage it, let me manage

aries, what news?

She's

Charles. Ruined and gone, uncle; my Harriot's lost faver! Maj. O. Gre Off with a man? I thought so; they are all alike.

charles. Oh, no! Fled to avoid the hateful match with Sir Harry Beagle.

Maj. O. 'Faith, a girl of spirit: but whence comes all this intelligence?

Charles. In an angry letter from her father. How miserable I am! If I had not offended my Harriot, much offended her, by that foolish riot and drinking at your house in the country, she would certainly, at such a time, have taken refuge in my

arms.

Maj. O. A very agreeable refuge for a young lody, to be sure; and extremely decent! Charles. What a heap of extravagancies was I guilty of!

Maj. O. Extravagancies with a witness! Ah! you silly young dog, you would ruin yourself with her father, in spite of all I could do. There you sat, as drunk as a lord, telling the old gentleman the whole affair, and swearing you would drive Sir

Harry Beagle out of the country, though I kept winking and nodding, pulling you by the sleeve, and kicking your shins under the table, in hopes of stopping you; but all to no purpose.

Charles. What distress may she be in at this instant! Alone and defenceless! Where, where can she be?

Maj. O. What relations or friends has she in town?

Charles. Relations! let me see-Faith, I have it! If she is in town, ten to one but she is at her aunt's, Lady Freolove's. I'll go thither immediately.

Maj. O. Lady Freelove's! Hold, hold, Charles! Do you know her ladyship?

Chgrles. Not much; but I'll break through all, to get to my Harriot.

Maj. O. I do know her ladyship.

Charles. Well, and what do you know of her? Maj. O. O, nothing! her ladyship is a woman of

the world, that's all.

Charles. What do you mean?

Moj. O. That Lady Freelove is an arrant-By-theby, did not she, last summer, make formal propo

sals to Harriot's father from Lord Trinket?

Charles. Yes; but they were received with the utmost contempt. The old gentleman, it seems, hates a lord, and he told her so in plain terms.

Maj. O. Such an aversion to the nobility may not run in the blood; the girl, I warrant you, has no objection. However, if she's there, watch her narrowly, Charles. Lady Freelove is as mischievous as a monkey, and as cunning, too. Have a care of her, I say, have a care of her!

Charles. If she's there, I'll have her out of the house within this half hour, or set fire to it.

Maj. O. Nay, now you are too violent; stay a moment, and we'll consider what's best to be done. Enter OAKLY.

Ook. Come, is the coach ready? Let us be gone. Does Charles go with us?

Charles. I go with you!-What can I do? I am so vexed and distracted, and so many thoughts crowd in upon me, I don't know which way to turn myself.

Mrs. O. (Within.) The coach!-dines out!Where is your master?

Oak. Zounds! brother, here she is,

Re-enter MRS. OAKLY. Mrs. O. Pray, Mr. Oakly, what is the matter that you cannot dine at home to-day?

Oak. Don't be uneasy, my dear!-I have a little business to settle with my brother; so I am only just going to dinner with him and Charles, to the

tavern.

Mrs. 0. Why cannot you settle your business here, as well as at a tavern? But it is some of your ladies' business, I suppose, and so you must get rid of my company. This is chiefly your fault, Major Oakly.

Maj. O. Lord! sister, what signifies it, whether a man dines at home or abroad?

Mrs. O. It signifies a great deal, sir! and I don't choose

comes back.

go; he will be ten times better company when he Maj. O. Phoo! let him go, my dear sister, let him home till you are quite tired of one another, and I tell you what, sister-you sit at then you grow cross, and fall out: if you would but part a little now and then, you might meet again in humour.

yourself about your own affairs: and let me tell Mrs. O. 1 beg, Major Oakly, that you would trouble you, sir, that I

Oak. Nay, do not put thyself into a passion with shall come back to thee very soon. the Major, my dear! it was not his fault; and I

know well enough when you mean to deceive me; Mrs. O. Come back! why need you go out? I for then there is always a pretence of dining with Sir John, or my lord, or somebody; but when you tell me you are going to a tavern, it's such a barefaced affront

Oak. This is so strange now! Why, my dear, I shall only just

Mrs. O. Only just go after the lady in the letter, I suppose.

Oak. Well, well, I won't go, then. Will that convince you? I'll stay with you, my dear. Will that satisfy you?

་་

Maj. O. For shame! hold out, if you are a man. (Apart.)

Oak. She has been so much vexed this morning already, I must humour her a little now. (Apart.)

Maj. O. Fie, fie! go out, or you are undone. (Apart.)

Oak. You see it's impossible. I'll dine at home with thee, my love. (Apart to Mrs. Oakly.)

Mrs. 0. Ay, ay, pray do, sir. Dine at a tavern, indeed! (Going.)

Qak. (Returning.) You may depend on me another time, Major.

Maj. O. Steel and adamant! Ah! Mrs. O. (Returning.) Mr. Oakly! Oak. O, my dear! [Exit with Mrs. Oakly. Maj. O. Ha, ha, ha! there's a picture of resolu tion! there goes a philosopher for you! Ha,

Charles!

Charles. O, uncle! I have no spirits to laugh

now.

Maj. 0. So! I have a fine time on't between you and my brother. Will you meet me to dinner at the St. Alban's by four? We'll drink her health, and think of this affair.

Charles. Don't depend on me. I shall be running all over the town, in pursuit of my Harriot; at all events, I'll go directly to Lady Freelove's: if I find her not there, which way I shall direct myself, heaven knows!

Maj. O. Harkye, Charles! If you meet with her, you may be at a loss. Bring her to my house; I have a snug room, and