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Stood by, and saw her married to another.
Oh, cruel father! and unnatural brother!
Shall I not tell you that you have undone me
I have but to accuse you of my wrongs,
And then to fall forgotten-Sleep or death
Sits heavy on me, and benumbs my pains:
Either is welcome; but the hand of death
Works always sure, and best can close my eyes.
[Exit BIRON.

SCENE II.-Draws, shews BIRON asleep on a couch.

Enter ISABELLA.

Isa. Asleep so soon! Oh, happy, happy thou, Who thus can sleep! I never shall sleep moreIf then to sleep be to be happy, he,

Who sleeps the longest, is the happiest :
Death is the longest sleep-Oh, have a care!
Mischief will thrive apace.-Never wake more.
[To BIRON.

If thou didst ever love thy Isabella,
To-morrow must be doomsday to thy peace.
The sight of him disarms even death itself.
The starting transport of new quickening life
Gives just such hopes: and pleasure grows again
With looking on him-Let me look my last-
But is a look enough for parting love!
Sure I may take a kiss-Where am I going!

Help, help me, Villeroy! Mountains and seas
Divide your love, never to meet my shame!

[Throws herself upon the floor; after a short

pause she raises herself upon her elbow. What will this battle of the brain do with me! This little ball, this ravaged province, long Cannot maintain-The globe of earth wants room And food for such a war-I find I am going

Famine, plagues, and flames,

Wide waste and desolation, do your work

Upon the world, and then devour yourselves!

The scene shifts fast-[She rises]-and now 'tis better with me;

Conflicting passions have at last unhinged

The great machine! the soul itself seems changed! Oh, 'tis a happy revolution here!

The reasoning faculties are all deposed,

Judgment, and understanding, common-sense,
Driven out as traitors to the public peace.
Now I am revenged upon my memory!
Her seat dug up, where all the images
Of a long mis-spent life were rising still,
To glare a sad reflection of my crimes,

And stab a conscience through them! You are safe,

You monitors of mischief! What a change!
Better and better still! This is the infant state

Of innocence, before the birth of care.
My thoughts are smooth as the Elysian plains,
Without a rub: the drowsy falling streams

Invite me to their slumbers.

Would I were landed there

[Sinks into a chair.

What noise was that? A knocking at the gate!

It may be Villeroy-No matter who.

Bir. Come, Isabella, come.

Isa. Hark! I am called!

Bir. You stay too long from me.

Isa. A man's voice! in my bed! How came he

there?

Nothing but villany in this bad world!

[Rises.

Coveting neighbours' goods, or neighbours' wives:

Here's physic for your fever.

[Draws a dagger, and goes backward to the

couch.]

Breathing a vein is the old remedy.

If husbands go to heaven,

Where do they go that send them?-This to try[Just going to stab him, he rises; she knows

What do I see!

him, and shrieks.]

Bir. Isabella, armed!

Isa. Against my husband's life!

Who, but the wretch, most reprobate to grace,

Despair e'er harden'd for damnation,

Could think of such a deed-Murder my

Bir. Thou didst not think it.

husband!

Isa. Madness has brought me to the gates of hell, And there has left me. Oh, the frightful change

Of my distractions! Or is this interval

Of reason but to aggravate my woes,

To drive the horror back with greater force
Upon my soul, and fix me mad for ever?
Bir. Why dost thou fly me so?

Isa. I cannot bear his sight; Distraction, come, Possess me all, and take me to thyself!

Shake off thy chains, and hasten to my aid;

Thou art my only cure-Like other friends,
He will not come to my necessities;

Then I must go to find the tyrant out—

Which is the nearest way?

[Running out.

Bir. Poor Isabella! she's not in a condition

To give me any comfort, if she could:

Lost to herselfas quickly I shall be

To all the world-Horrors come fast around me;
My mind is overcast-the gathering clouds
Darken the prospect-I approach the brink,
And soon must leap the precipice! Oh, heaven!
While yet my senses are my own, thus kneeling,
Let me implore thy mercies on my wife:
Release her from her pangs; and if my reason,
O'erwhelmed with miseries, sink before the tempest,
Pardon those crimes despair may bring upon me!
[Rises.

Enter Nurse.

Nurse. Sir, there is somebody at the door must needs speak with you; he will not tell his name.

[Exit Nurse.

[Exit.

Bir. I come to him.
'Tis Belford, I suppose; he little knows
Of what has happened here; I wanted him,
Must employ his friendship, and then-

SONG.

IN SIR ANTHONY LOVE, OR THE RAMBLING LADY.

PURSUING Beauty, men descry

The distant shore, and long to prove

Still richer in variety

The treasures of the land of love.

We women, like weak Indians, stand
Inviting from our golden coast
The wand'ring rovers to our land;

But she who trades with them is lost.

With humble vows they first begin,
Stealing unseen into the heart;
But by possession settled in,

They quickly play another part.

For beads and baubles we resign,
In ignorance, our shining store;
Discover nature's richest mine,

And yet the tyrants will have more.

Be wise, be wise, and do not try

How he can court, or you be won;

For love is but discovery;

When that is made the pleasure's done.

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