SCENE I. The Street.

Enter BIRON and BELFORD, just arrived.

Biron. The longest day will have an end; we are got home at last.

Bel. We have got our legs at liberty; and liberty is home, where'er we go; though mine lies most in England.

Biron. Pray let me call this yours: for what I can command in Brussels, you shall find your own. I have a father bere, who, perhaps after seven years absence, and costing him nothing in my travels, may be glad to see me. You know my story- -How does my disguise become me?

Bel. Just as you would have it; 'tis natural, and will conceal you.

Biron. To-morrow you shall be sure to find me here, as early as you please. This is the house, you have observed the street.

Bel. I warrant you; I han't many visits to make before I come to you.

Biron. To-night I have some affairs that will oblige me to be private.

Bel. A good bed is the privatest affair that I desire to be engaged in to-night; your directions will carry me to my lodgings.

Biron. Good night, my friend.

The long expected moment is arriv'd!
And if all here is well, my past sorrows
Will only heighten my excess of joy;
And nothing will remain to wish or hope for!

Enter SAMPSON.

[Exit. [Knocks.

[Knocks again.

Sam. Who's there? What would you have?
Biron. Is your lady at home, friend?

Sam. Why truly, friend, it is my employment to answer impertinent questions: but for my lady's being at home or no, that's just as my lady pleases.

Biron. But how shall I know whether it pleases her or no?

Sam. Why, if you'll take my word for it, you may carry your errand back again: she never pleases to see any body at this time of night, that she does not know; and by your dress and appearance, I am sure you must be a stranger to her.

Biron. But I have business; and you don't know how that may please her.

Sam. Nay, if you have business, she is the best judge whether your business will please her or no: therefore I will proceed in my office, and know of my lady whether or no she is pleased to be at home, or no[Going.

Enter Nurse.

Nurse. Who's that you are so busy withal? Methinks you might have found out an answer in fewer words: but, Sampson, you love to hear yourself prate sometimes, as well as your betters, that I must say for you. Let me come to him. Who would you speak with, stranger?

C

Biron. With you, mistress, if you could help me to speak to your lady.

Nurse. Yes, sir, I can help you in a civil way: but can nobody do your business but my lady?

Biron. Not so well; but if you carry her this ring, she'll know my business better.

Nurse. There's no love-letter in it, I hope; you look like a civil gentleman. In an honest way, I may bring you an answer. [Exit. Biron. My old nurse, only a little older since I left her. Yet there is something in these servants' folly pleases me: the cautious conduct of the family appears, and speaks in their impertinence. Well, mistress

Re-enter Nurse.

Nurse. I have delivered your ring, sir! pray, heaven, you bring no bad news along with you. Biron. Quite contrary, I hope.

Nurse. Nay, I hope so too; but my lady was very much surprised when I gave it her. Sir, I am but a servant, as a body may say; but if you'll walk in, that I may shut the doors, for we keep very orderly hours, I can show you into the parlour, and help you to an answer perhaps as soon as those that are wiser. [Exit. Biron. I'll follow you

Now all my spirits hurry to my heart,
And every sense has taken the alarm
At this approaching interview!

Heav'ns! how I tremble!

[Exit into the House.

SCENE II. A Chamber.

Enter ISABElla.

Isa. I've heard of witches, magic spells, and charms,
That have made nature start from her old course:
The sun has been eclips'd, the moon drawn down
From her career, still paler, and subdu'd

To the abuses of this under world!
Now I believe all possible. This ring,
This little ring, with necromantic force,

Has rais'd the ghost of pleasure to my fears:
Conjur'd the sense of honour, and of love,
Into such shapes, they fright me from myself!
I dare not think of them-

I'll call you when I want you.

Enter Nurse.

[Servant goes out.

Nurse. Madam, the gentleman's below.
Isa. I had forgot, pray let me speak with him.

[Exit Nurse.
This ring was the first present of my love
To Biron, my first husband; I must blush
To think I have a second. Biron died
(Still to my loss) at Candy; there's my hope.
Oh, do I live to hope that he died there!
It must be so: he's dead, and this ring left
By his last breath to some known faithful friend,
To bring me back again;

Enter BIRON, introduced by the Nurse, who retires. That's all I have to trust to

My fears were woman's- -I have view'd him all:
And let me, let me say it to myself,

I live again, and rise but from his tomb.

Biron. Have you forgot me quite?

Isa. Forgot you!

Biron. Then farewell my disguise, and my misfor

tunes.

My Isabella! [He goes to her; she shrieks, and swoons. Isa. Ha!

Biron. Oh! come again:

Thy Biron summons thee to life and love;
Thy once-lov'd, ever-loving husband calls-
Thy Biron speaks to thee.

Isa. My husband! Biron?

Biron. Excess of love and joy, for my return,

Has overpower'd her I was to blame

To take thy sex's softness unprepar'd:

But sinking thus, thus dying in my arms,

This ecstasy has made my welcome more

Than words could say: words may be counterfeit,
False-coin'd, and current only from the tongue,
Without the mind; but passion's in the soul,
And always speaks the heart.

Isa. Where have I been? Why do you keep him from me?

I know his voice: my life upon the wing,

Hears the soft lure that brings me back again;
"Tis he himself, my Biron, the dear inan!
My true-lov'd husband! Do I hold you fast,
Never to part again?

If I must fall, death's welcome in these arms.
Biron. Live ever in these arms.

Isa. But pardon me,

Excuse the wild disorder of my soul:

The joy, the strange surprising joy of seeing you,
Of seeing you again, distracted me-

Biron. Thou everlasting goodness!

Isa. Answer me:

What hand of Providence has brought you back
Το your own home again? Oh, tell me all,

For every thought confounds me.

Biron. My best life; at leisure, all.

Isa. We thought you dead; kill'd at the siege of Candy.

Biron. There I fell among the dead;

But hopes of life reviving from my wounds,
I was preserv'd but to be made a slave:

I often wrote to my hard father, but never had
An answer; I wrote to thee too-

Isa. What a world of woe

Had been prevented but in hearing from you!
Biron. Alas! thou couldst not help me.

Isa. You do not know how much I could ha' done;
At least, I'm sure I could have suffer'd all:
I would have sold myself to slavery,
Without redemption; giv'n up my child,
The dearest part of me, to basest wants-