Sam. How, wilfully! he should have had her consent, methinks.

Nurse. No, wilfully marries her; and which was worse, after she had settled all her fortune upon a nunnery, which she broke out of to run away with him. They say they had the church's forgiveness, but I had rather it had been his father's.

Sam. Why, in good truth, and I think our young master was not in the wrong but in marrying without a portion.

Nurse. That was the quarrel, I believe, Sampson: upon this, my old lord would never see him; disinherited him; took his younger brother, Carlos, into favour, whom he never car'd for before; and at last forc'd Biron to go to the siege of Candy, where he was killed.

Sam. Alack-a-day, poor gentleman.

Nurse. For which my old lord hates her, as if she had been the cause of his going thither.

Sam. Alas, alas, poor lady! she has suffered for it: she has liv'd a great while a widow.

Nurse. A great while indeed, for a young woman, Sampson.

Sam. 'Gad so! here they come; I won't venture to

be seen.

Enter COUNT BALDWIN, followed by ISABELLA and her Child.

Count B. Whoever of your friends directed you, Misguided, and abus'd you?There's your way; What could you expect from me?

Isa. Oh, I have nothing to expect on earth! But misery is very apt to talk:

I thought I might be heard.

Count B. What can you say?

Is there in eloquence, can there be in words
A recompensing pow'r, a remedy,

A reparation of the injuries,

The great calamities, that you have brought

On me and mine? You have destroy'd those hopes

I fondly rais'd, through my declining life,
To rest my age upon; and most undone me.
Isa. I have undone myself too.

Count B. Speak it again;

Say still you are undone, and I will hear you,
With pleasure hear you.

Isa. Would my ruin please you?

Count B. Beyond all other pleasures.

Isu. Then you are pleas'd-for I am most undone. Count B. I pray'd but for revenge, and heav'n has heard,

And sent it to my wishes: these grey hairs

Would have gone down in sorrow to the grave,
Which you have dug for me, without the thought,
The thought of leaving you more wretched here.
Isa. Indeed I am most wretched-

I lost with Biron all the joys of life:

But now its last supporting means are gone,
All the kind helps that heav'n in pity rais'd,
In charitable pity to our wants,

At last have left us: now bereft of all,
But this last trial of a cruel father,

To save us both from sinking. Oh, my child!
Kneel with me, knock at nature in his heart:
Let the resemblance of a once-lov'd son
Speak in this little one, who never wrong'd you,
And plead the fatherless and widow's cause.
Oh, if you ever hope to be forgiven,

As you will need to be forgiven too,

Forget our faults, that heaven may pardon yours!
Count B. How dare you mention heav'n! Call to mind

Your perjur'd vows; your plighted, broken faith
To heav'n, and all things holy were you not
Devoted, wedded to a life recluse,

The sacred habit on, profess'd and sworn,
A votary for ever? Can you think

The sacrilegious wretch, that robs the shrine,
Is thunder-proof?

Isa. Not for myself- -for I am past the hopes

Of being heard

-but for this innocent

And then I never will disturb you more.
Count B. I almost pity the unhappy child:

But being yours

Isa. Look on him as your son's;

And let his part in him answer for mine.

Oh save, defend him, save him from the wrongs
That fall upon the poor!

Count B. It touches me

And I will save him-But to keep him safe;
Never come near him more.

Isa. What! take him from me?

No, we must never part:

I live but in my child.

No, let me pray in vain, and beg my bread
From door to door, to feed his daily wants,
Rather than always lose him.

Count B. Then have your child, and feed him with

your prayer.

Isa. Then heaven have mercy on me.

[Exit, with the Child. Count B. You rascal, slave, what do I keep you for? How came this woman in?

Sum. Why indeed, my lord, I did as good as tell her, before, my thoughts upon the matter

Count B. Did you so, sir? Now then tell her mine. ! Be gone, go altogether; take any road but this to beg or starve in-but never, never see me more—

[He drives them off, and exit.

Enter VILLEROY and CARLOS, meeting.
Vil. My friend, I fear to ask-but Isabella-
The lovely widow's tears, her orphan's cries,
Thy father must feel for them-No, I read,
I read their cold reception in thine eyes-
Thou pitiest them-though Baldwin-but I spare hin
For Carlos' sake; thou art no son of his.

There needs not this to endear thee more to me.
[They embrace.
Car. My Villeroy, the fatherless, the widow,
Are terms not understood within these gates-
You must forgive him, sir, he thinks this woman
Is Biron's fate, that hurried him to death-
I must not think on't, lest my friendship stagger.
My friend's, my sister's mutual advantage
Have reconcil'd my bosom to its task.
Vil. Advantage! think not I intend to raise

An interest from Isabella's wrongs.

Your father may have interested ends
In her undoing; but my heart has none;
Her happiness must be my interest,
And that I would restore.

Car. Why so I mean.

These hardships that my father lays upon her
I'm sorry for, and wish I could prevent;

But he will have his way.

Since there's no hope from her prosperity, her change of fortune may alter the condition of her thoughts, and make for you.

Vil. She is above her fortune.

Car. Try her again. Women commonly love according to the circumstances they are in.

Vil. Common women may.

No, though I live but in the hopes of her,
And languish for th' enjoyment of those hopes,
I'd rather pine in a consuming want

Of what I wish, than have the blessing mine,
From any reason but consenting love.
Oh! let me never have it to remember,
I could betray her coldly to comply:

When a clear gen'rous choice bestows her on me,
I know how to value the unequal'd gift:

I would not have it but to value it.

Car. Take your own way; remember what I offer'd came from a friend.

Vil. I understand it so. I'll serve her for herself, without the thought of a reward.

[Exit. Car. Agree that point between you. If you marry her any way, you do my business.

I know him-What his gen'rous soul intends

Ripens my plots-I'll first to Isabella.

I must keep up appearances with her too.

[Exit.