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world holds not such another wretch. All this Stuke. Rather let him fly. His evidence large fortune, this second bounty of heaven, may crush his master. that might have healed our sorrows, and sa- Bev. Why ay; this looks like management. tisfied our utmost bopes, in a cursed hour I Bales. He found you quarrelling with Lewson sold last night.
in the streets last night. [To Beverley. Mrs. B. Impossible !
Mrs. B. No; I am sure he did not. Bev. That devil, Stukely, with all hell to aid Jar. Or if I did him, tempted me to the deed. To pay false Mrs. B. 'Tis false, old man—They had no debts of honour, and to redeem past errors, quarrel; there was no cause for quarrel. I sold the reversion-Sold it for a scanty sum, Bev. Let him proceed, I say-Oh! I am and lost it
sick! sick!—Reach a chair. [He sits down. Char. Why, farewell all then!
Mrs. B. If Lewson's dead, you killed him not. Bev. Liberty and life--Come, kneel and
Enter Dawson. Mrs B. Then hear me, heaven! [Kneels] Stuke. Who sent for Dawson? Look down with mercy on his sorrows! Give Bates. 'Twas 1-We bave a witness 100 softness to his looks, and quiet to his heart! you little think of-without there! Take from his memory the sense of what is Stuke. What witness? past, and cure him of despair! On me, on me, Bates. A right one.
Look at him. if misery must be the loi of either, multiply misfortunes! I'll bear them patiently, so he is
Enter Lewson and CharloTTE. happy! These hands shall toil for his support!
Stuke. Lewson! O villains! villains! These eyes be listed up for hourly blessings
[To Bates and Dawson. on him! And every duty of a fond and faith- Mrs. B. Risen from the dead! Why, this ful wife be doubly done, to cheer and comfort is unexpected happiness! him !-So hear me!--So reward me! [Rises. Char. Or is it his ghost? [To Stukely] That
Bev. I would kneel too, but that offended sight would please you, sir. heaven would turn my prayers into curses. Jar. What riddle's this? For I have done a deed to make life horrible Bev. Be quick and tell it-My' minutes are
but few. Mrs B. What deed ?
Mrs. B. Alas! Why so? You shall live long Jar. Ask him no questions, madam-This and happily: last misfortune has hurt his brain. A little Lew. While shame and punishment shall time will give him patience.
rack that viper! [Pointing in Stukely] The Enter STUKELY.
tale is short-I was too busy in bis secrets,
and therefore doomed to die. Bates, lo preBev. Why is this villain here! Stuke. To give you liberty and safety. There,
vent the murder, undertook it-1 kept aloof to madam, is his discharge. [Giving a Paper to
give it credit.Mrs. Beverley:] The arrest last night was
Char. And gave me pangs unutterable. meant in friendship, but came too late.
Low. I felt them all,' and would have told Char. What mean you, sir?
you-But vengeance wanted ripening: The Stuke. The arrest was too late, I
villain's scheme was but half executed. The
I would have kept his hands from blood, but arrest by Dawson followed the supposed murder was too late.
---And now, depending on his once wicked asMrs. B. His hands from blood!-- whose blood ? sociales, he comes to fix the guilt on Beverley. Stuke. From Lewson's blood.
Bates. Dawson and I are witnesses of this. Char. No, villain! Yet whal of Lewson?
Lew. And of a thousand frauds. Speak quickly
lune ruined by sharpers and false dice; and Stuke. You are ignorant then! I thought I
Stukely sole contriver and possessor of all
, heard the murderer at confession.
Daw. Had he but stopped on this side murder, Char. VVhat murderer?-And who is mur
we had been villains still. dered ? Not Lewson ?-Say he lives, and I'll
Lew. How does my friend? [To Beverley; kneel and worship you.
Bev. Why, well." Who's be that asks me? ; Stuke. In pity, so I would; but that the look so ai bim?
Mrs. B. "L'is Lewson, love-Why do you tongues of all cry murder. I came in pity,
as murdered. not in malice, to save the brother, not kill the
Bev. They told me he was sister. Your Lewson's dead.
[Wildly Char. Oh, horrible!
Mrs. B. Ay; but he lives to save us. Bev. Silence, I charge you—Proceed, sir.
Beo. Lend me your hand–The room turns
round. Stuke. No; justice may stop the tale-and there's an evidence.
Lew. This villain herc disturbs him. Remore
him from his sight-And, for your lives, see Enter BATES.
that you guard him. [Stukely is taken off by Bates. The news, I sec, has reached you. Dawson and Bates How is it, sir? But take comfort, madam. [To Charlotte] Beo. "Tis here--and here. [Pointing to his There's one without inquiring for you.—Go Head and Heart] And now it tears me. to him, and lose no time.
Mrs. B. You feel convulsed too_What ist Char. O misery! misery!
[Erit. disturbs you? Mrs. B. Follow her, Jarvis. If it be true Bev. A furnace rages in this heart-Down, that Lewson's dead, her grief may kill hier. restless flames! [Laying his Hand on his
Bates. Jarvis must stay here, madam. I Heurt] Down to your native hell-- There you liate some questions for him.
sball rack mc-Oh! for a pause from pain!
my wife!--Can you forgive me, love! *Mrs. B. Restore him, heaven! Oh, save him! Mrs. B. Alas! for what?
save him! or let me die too. Bev. For meanly dying.
Bev. No; live, I charge you.
We have a Mrs. B. No-do not say it.
little one. Though I bave left him, you will Bev. As truly as my soul must answer it- not leave him.-To Lewson's, kindness I bellad Jarvis staid this morning all had been queath him.- Is not this Charlotte ?-We have well. But, pressed by shame-pent in a prison lived in love, though I have wronged you.-tormented with my pangs for you-driven Can you forgive me, Charlotte ? to despair and madness-I took the advantage Char. Forgive you! Oh, my poor brother! of bis absence, corrupted the poor wretch he Dev. Oh! for a few short moments to tell left to guard me, and-swallowed poison. you how my heart bleeds for you, That even Lew. Oh, fatal deed!
now, thus dying as I am, dubious and fearsul Char. Dreadful and cruel!
of hereafter, my bosom-pang is for your misBeo. Ay, most accursed—And now I go to eries! Support her, heaven!-And now I go--Bend me, and let me kneel. Oh, mercy! mercy !
[Dies. [Kneels.] Il pray for you too. Thou power Lev. How is it, madam ? that madest me, hear me! If for a life of frailty, Char. Her grief is speechless. and this too hasty deed of death, thy justice Lew. Remove her from this sight-lead and dooms me, here I acquit the sentence; but if, support ber-Some ministering angel bring her enthroned in mercy where thou sittest, thy peace! (Charlotte leads her off] And ihou, pity has beheld me, send me a gleam of hope, poor, breathless corpse, may thy departed soul that in these last and bitter moments my soul have found the rest it prayed for! Save but may taste of comfort! and for these mourners one èrror, and this lasi fatal deed, thy life was bere , oh! let their lives be peaceful, and their lovely. Let frailer minds take warning; and
from example learn, that want of prudence is [They lift him to the Chair. want of virtue.
THOMAS OTWAY, Was not more remarkable for moving the tender passions, than for the variety of fortune to which he himself *23 sabjecied. He was the son of the Rev. Mr. Humphrey Olway, rector of Wolbeding, in Sussex, and was born at Tretton in that county, the 5d of March in the year 1651. He received his education at Wickeham school, ncar Winchester, and became a commoner of Christ Church, in Oxford, in 1669. But on his quitting the university, in *}, and coming to London, he lirned player. His success as an actor was but indillerent, having made only one Flerspe in Mrs. Behn's tragedy of The Fore'd Marriage ; or, Jealous Bridegroom; he was more valued for the sprightLass of his conversation and The acuteness of his wity which gained him the frier.dship of the Earl of Plymouth, who procured him a cornet's, commission in the troops which then served in Flanders. Al his return from Flanders he gavo
bis commission and had recourse to writing ior the stage; and now it was that he found on the only employEret thal nature seems to have filled him for. In comedy he has been deemed to licentious; which, however, was
steal objection to those who lived in the profligale days of Charles II. But in tragedy few of our English poets fter equalled him; and perhaps none ever excelled bim in touching the passions, particularly that of love. There is ferally something familiar and domestic in the fable of his tragedy, and there is amazing energy, in his expression bal thoughe Otway possessed, in so eminent a degree, the rare talent of writing to the heart, yet he was not very fareesahly regarded by some of his
contemporary poets; nor was he always successful in his dramatic compositions. Aftkperiencing many reverses of fortue, in regard to his circumstances, but ally nging for the worse, he at Ist died wretchedly in a house, known by the sign of a Bull, on Tower Hill, April 14, 1685. whither he lind retired "savoid the pressure of his creditors. Some have said, that downright hunger compelling him to fall too eagerly upon 1 piece of bread, of which he had been some time in want, the first mouthful choked him, and instantly put a period
de bis deys.
ACTED a! the Duke's Theatre, 1682. This interesting tragedy is borrowed, with respect to the plan of it at least, Irene little book that relates the circumstances of the Spanish conspiracy at Venice, i, c. the Abbé de St. Real's Histhe dus is Сenjuration du Marquis de Badumar. The speech of Renault to the conspirators is translated word for 'd from this authur.
It has been remarked, that though, on the whole, the incidents of Oiway's piece are interesting, and the catastrophe affecting, there is not one truly valuable character in the whole drama, except that of Belvidera Te this, however, we cannoi entirely subscribe. The character of Pierre is nobly drawn His public services had been Feutred wish ingratitude, and he was a greatly injured character; but was justly punished for taking a treasonablo made of redressing his wrongs. The scene lies in Venice. By comparing this with The Orphun, it will appear that As images were hy uime become stronger, and his language more energetic. The public seems to judge rightly of the felis oud excellencies of this play; that it is the work of a man not allentive to detency, por zealous for virlac, but of se who couceived forcibly, and drew originally, by consulting nature in his own breasl. Mr. Dryden says, “the moles which are studied are never so natural as those which break out in the height of a real passion.
Mr. Olway passessed this part as thoroughly as any of the ancienls or moderns. I will not defend every thing in his Venice Preo tersed; but I must bear this testimony to his memory, that the passions are truly touched in it, though perhaps there * somewhat to be desired, both in the grounds of them, and in the height and elegance of expression; bul nature is bure, which is the greatest beauty."
DUKE OF VENICE.
May all your joys in her prove false, like mine; SCENE I.-A Street in VENICE.
A sterile fortune, and a barren bed,
Attend you both; continual discord make Enter Priuli and JAFFIER.
Your days and nights bitter and grievous; still Pri. No more! I'll hear no more! Be gone May the hard band of a vexatidus need and leave me.
Oppress and grind you; till at last you find Jaf. Not hear me! By my suffering but you The curse of disobedience all your portion. shall!
Jaf. Half of your curse you have bestow'd My lord, my lord! I'm not that abject wretch
in rain: You think me. Patience! where's the distance Heav'n has already crown'd.our faithful loves throws
With a young boy, sweet as his mother's Me back so far, but I may boldly speak
beauty : In right, though proud oppression will not hear May he live to prove more gentle than bis me?
grandsire, Pri. Have you not wrong'd me ?
And happier than his father. Jaf: Could my nature e'er
Pri. Rather live Have brook'd injustice, or the doing wrongs, To bait thee' for his bread, and din your ears I need not now thus low have bent myself With hungry cries; whilst his unhappy mother To gain a hearing from a cruel father. Sits down and weeps in bitterness of want. Wrong'd you?
Jaf. You talk as if 'would please you. Pri: Yes, wrong'd me! In the nicest point, Pri. 'Twould, by heav'n! The honour of my house, you've done me Jaf. Would I were in my grave! wrong
Pri. And she too with thee: You may remember (for I now will speak, For, living here, you're but my curst rememAnd urge its baseness) when you first came
I once was happy. From travel, with such hopes as made you Jaf. You use me thus, because you know By all men's eyes, a youth of expectation; Is fond of Belvidera. You perceive Pleas'd with your growing virtue, I receivid My life feeds on her, therefore thus you treat
you; Courted, and sought to raise you to your Oh! could my soul ever have known satiety; merits:
Were I that thief, the doer of such wrongs My house, my table, nay, my fortune too, As you upbraid me with, what hinders me My very self was yours; you might have us’d But' I might send her back to you with con
tunnely, best service; like an open friend, And court my fortune where she would be I treated, trusted you, and thought you mine:
kinder? When, in requital of my best endeavours, Pri. You dare not do't. You treacherously practis'd to undo me; Jaf. Indeed, my lord, I dare not. Seduc'd the weakness of my age's darling, My heart, that awes me, is too much my My only child, and stole her from my bosom.
master: Oh Belvidera!
Three years are past, since first our vows were Jaf. 'Tis to me you owe her:
plighted, Childless you had been else, and in the grave During wbich time, the world must bear me Your name extinct; no more Priuli heard of.
witness, You may remember, scarce five years are past, I've treated Belvidera like your daughter, Since in your brigantine you sail'd to see The daughter of a senator of Venice: The Adriatic wedded by our duke; Distinction, place, attendance, and observance
, And I was with you: your unskilful pilot Due to her birth, she always has commanded. Dash'd us upon a rock; when to your boat Out of
little fortune I've done this; You made for safety: enter'd first yourself; Because (though hopeless e'er to win your Th' affrighted Belvidera following next,
nature) As she stood trembling on the vessel's side, The world might see I lov'd her for berself; Was, by a wave, wash'd off into the deep; Not as the heiress of the great Priuli. When instantly I plung'd into the sea,
Pri. No more. And buffeting the billows to her rescue, Jaf. Yes, all, and then adieu for ever. Redeem'd her life with half the loss of mine. There's not a wretch, that lives on common Like a rich conquest, in one hand I bore her,
charity, And with the other dash'd the saucy waves, But's happier than me: for I have known That throng'd and press'd to rob 'me of my The luscious sweets of plenty; every night prize.
Have slept with soft content about my head, I brought her, gave her to your despairing And never wak’d, but to a joyful morning;
Yet now must fall, like a full' ear of corn, Indeed you thank'd me; but a nobler gratitude Whose blossom 'scap'd, yet's wither'd in th Rose in her soul: for from that hour she lov'd
Pri: Home, and be humble; study to retrench Till for her life she paid me with herself. Discharge the lazy vermin of thy hall, Pri. You stole her from me; like a thief Those pageants of thy folly: you stole her,
Reduce the glittring trappings of thy wife At dead of night! that cursed hour you chose To humble weeds, fit for thy little state: To rifle me of all my heart held dear. Then, to some suburb cottage both retire;
Drudge to feed loathsome life: get brats and), Jaf. I think no safely can be here for virtus,
And griere, my friend, as much as thou, lo live al Home, home, I say:
[Exit. In such a wretched state as this of Venice,
Pier. We've neither safety, unity, nor peace,
The laws(corrupted to their ends that make 'em) P're now not fifty ducats in the world, Serve but forinstruments of some new tyramry, Yet still I am in love, and pleas’d with ruin. That every day starts up, t'enslave us deeper. Oh! Belvidera! Oh! she is my wife
Now could this glorious cause but find out friends And we will bear our wayward fate together, to do it right, oh, Jaitier! then might'st thou But ne'er know comfort more.
Not wear these seals of woe upon thy lace;
The proud Priuli should be taught bumanity, Enter PIERRE.
And learn to value such a son as thou art. Pier. My friend, good morrow!
I dare not speak, but my heart bleeds this moment. How fares the honest partner of my heart? Jaf. Curs'd be the cause, though I thy friend ir What, melancholy! not a word to spare me?
be part on't: Jaf. I'm thinking, Pierre, how that damn'd Let me partake the troubles of thy bosom, starving quality,
For I am us'd to misery, and perhaps ! Calld honesty, got fooling in the world. May find a way to sweeten't to thy spirit.
Pier. Why, powerful vilany first set it up, Pier. Too soon 'twill reach thy knowledgeFor its own ease and safety. "Honest men Jaf. Then from thee Are the soft easy cushions on which knaves Let it proceed. There's virtue in thy friendship, Repose and fatten. Were all mankind villains, Would make the saddest tale of sorrow pleasing, They'd starve each other; lawyers would want Strengthen my constancy and welcome ruio. practice,
Pier. Then thou art ruined! Cut-throals rewards: each man would kill his Jaf. That I long since knew; brother
I and ill fortune liave been long acquainted. Himself; none would be paid or hang’d for Pier. I pass'd this very moment by thy doors, murder.
And found them guarded by a troop of villains; Honesty! 'was a cheat invented first The sons of public rapine were destroying. le To bind the hands of bold deserving rogues, They told me, by the sentence of the law,
That fools and cowards might sit safe in power, They had commission to seize all thy fortune:
Jaf. Then bonesty is but a notion? Here stood a russian with a horrid face,
Lording it o'er a pile of massy plate,
Of all thy ancient, most domestic ornaments, Pier. So, indeed, men think me;
Rich hangings intermix'd and wrought with gold; But they're mistaken, Jassier: I'm a rogue The very bed, which on thy wedding-night As well as they ;
Receiv'd thee to the arms of Belvidera, A fine, gay, bold-fac'd villain as thou seest me. The scene of all thy joys, was violated Tis true, I pay my debts, when they're con- By the coarse hands of Glıhy dungeon villains, tracted;
And thrown amongst the tommon lumber. 1 steal from no man; would not cut a throat Jaf. Now thank heavenTo gain admission to a great 's purse,
Pier. Thank heaven! for what? Or a whore's bed; I'd not betray my friend Jaf. That I'm not worth a ducat. To get bis place or fortune; I scorn to flatter Pier. Curse thy dull stars, and the worse A blown-up fool above me, or crush the wretch
fate of Venice, beneath me;
Where brothers, friends, and fathers, all are Yet, Jaffier, for all this I'm a villain.
false; Jaf. A villain !
Where there's no truth, no trust; where inPier. Yes, a most notorious villain, To see the sufferings of my fellow creatures, Stoops under vile oppression, and vice lords it. And own myself a man: to see our senators Hadst thou but seen, as I did, how at last Cheat the deluded people with a show Thy beauteous Belvidera, like a wretch Of liberty, which yet they ne'er must taste of. That's doom'd to banishment,came weeping forth, They say, by them our hands are free from Shining through tears, like April suns in showers, fetters;
Thatlabour lo o'ercome the cloud that loads 'em; let whom they please they Jay in basest bonds; Whilst two young virgins, on whose arms Bring whom they please to infamy and sorrow;
she leand, Drive us, like wrecks, down the rough tide Kindly look'd up, and at her grief grew sad,
As if they catch'd the sorrows that fell from her. Whilst hold's left to save us from destruction. Ev'n the lewd rabble, that were gather'd round All that bear this are villains, and I one, To see the sight, stood mute when they beheld her; Not lo rouse up at the great call of nature, Govern'd their roaring throats,and grumbled pity. And check the growth of these domestic spoilers, I could have hugg’d the greasy rogues: they That make us slaves, and tell us, 'tis our charter.
Jaf. Ithank thee for this story, from my soul; Were in their spring! Has then our fortune Since now I know the worst that can befal me.
chang'a ? Ah, Pierre! I have a heart that could have borne Art thou not Belvideră, still the same, The roughest wrong my fortune could have Kind, good, and tender, as my arms first found
thee? But when I think what Belvidera feels, If thou art alter'd, where shall I have harbour? The bitterness her tender spirit tastes of, Where ease my loaded heart? Oh! where I own myself a coward : bear my weakness:
complain? If throwing thus my arms about thy neck,
Bel. Does this appear like change, or love I play the boy, and blubber in thy bosom.
decaying, Oh! I shall drown thee with my sorrows.
When thus I throw myself into thy bosom, Pier. Burn,
With all the resolution of strong truth! First, burn and level Venice to thy ruin. Beats not my heart, as 'twould alarum thine What! starve, like beggars' brats, in frosty To a new charge of bliss?-I joy more in thee, weather,
Than did thy mother, when she hugg’d thee first, Under a hedge, and whine ourselves to death! And bless'd the gods for all her travail past. Thou or thy cause shall never want assistance, Jaf. Can there in woman be such glorious Whilst I have blood or fortune fit to serve thee:
faiih? Command my heart, thou'rt every way its master. Sure all ill stories of thy sex are false!
Jaf. No, there's a secret pride in bravely dying. Oh woman! lovely woman! nature made thee Pier. Rats die in boles and corners, dogs Totemper man: we bad been brutes without you! run mad;
Angels are painted fair to look like you: Man knows a braver remedy for sorrow : There's in you all that we believe of heaven; Revenge, the attribute of gods; they stamp'd it, Amazing brightness, purity, and truth, With their great image, on our natures. Die! Eternal joy, and everlasting love. Consider well the cause, that calls upon thee: Bel. If love be treasure, we'll be wondrous rich; Aud, if thou'rt base enough, die then.. Remember, I have so much, my heart will surely break with't: Thy Belvidera suffers ; Belvidera!
Vows can't express it. When I would declare Die-damn first-What! be decently interr’d How great's my joy, I'm dumb with the big In a church-yard, and mingle thy brave dust
thought; With stinking rogues, that rot in winding-sheets, I swell, and sigh, and labour with my longing. Surfeit-slain fools, the common dung o'th' soil! O! lead me to some desert wide and wild,
Barren as our misfortunes, where my soul Pier. Well said, out with't, swear a little- May have its vent, where I may tell aloud Jaf. Swear! By sea and air; by earth, by To the high heavens, and ev'ry listning planet, hear'n, and hell,
With what a boundless stock my bosom's I will revenge my Belvidera's tears.
fraught; Hark thee, my friend-Priuli-is—a senator. Where I may throw my eager arins about thee, Pier. A dog.
Give loose to love, with kisses kindling joy, Jaf. Agreed.
And let off all the fire that's in my heart. Pier. Shoot him.
Jaf. Oh, Belvidera! doubly I'm a beggar: Jaf. With all my heart.
Undone by fortune, and in debt to thee. No more; where shall we meet at night? Want, worldly want, that 'hungry, meagre fiend, Pier. I'll tell thee;
Is at my heels, and chases me in view. On the Rialto, every night at twelve, Canst thou bear cold and hunger? Can these I take my evening's' walk of meditation;
limbs, There we two will meet, and talk of precious Fram'd for the tender offices of love, Mischief
Endure the bitter gripes of smarting poverty? Jaf. Farewell.
When banish'd by our miseries abroad Pier. At twelve.
(As suddenly we shall be) to seek out Jaf. At any hour; my plagues
In some far climate, where our names are Will keep me waking. [Exit Pierre.
strangers, Tell me why, good heaven,
For charitable succour; wilt thou then, Thou mad'st me, what I am, with all the spirit, When in a bed of straw we shrink together, Aspiring thoughts, and elegant desires, And the bleak winds shall whistle round our That all the happiest man? Ah, rather, why
heads; Didst thou not form me sordid as my fate, Wilt thou then talk thus to me? Wilt thou then Base-minded, dull, and fit to carry burthens? Hush my cares thus, and shelter me with love? Why have I sense to know the curse that's Bel. Oh! I will love thee, even in madness
Jove thee; Is this just dealing, nature ? — Belvidera! Though my distracted senses should forsake me,
I'd find some intervals, when my poor heart Enter BELVIDERA.
Should 'swage itself, and be let loose to thine. Poor Belvidera !
Though the bare earth be all our resting-place, Bel. Lead me, lead me, my virgins, Its roots our food, some clift our habitation, To that kind voice. My lord, my love, my refuge! I'll make this arm a pillow for thine head; Happy my eyes, when they behold thy face! And, as thou sighing ly'st, and swell'd with My heavy heart will leave its doleful beating
sorrow, At sight of thee, and bound with sprightly joys. Creep, to thy bosom, pour the balm of love Oh smile! as when our loves were in their spring, Into thy soul, and kiss thee to thy rest; And cheer my fainting soul.
Then przise our God, and watch thee till the Jaf. As when our loves