Stood by, and saw her married to another. 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 : If thou didst ever love thy Isabella, Help, help me, Villeroy! Mountains and seas [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, And stab a conscience through them! You are safe, You monitors of mischief! What a change! Of innocence, before the birth of care. 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 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, 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; 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. 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 But she who trades with them is lost. With humble vows they first begin, They quickly play another part. For beads and baubles we resign, 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. |