Base poverty, and all its abject train;

The mean devices we're reduc'd to use

To keep out famine, and preserve our lives
From day to day; the cold neglect of friends;
The galling scorn, or more provoking pity
Of an insulting world-Possess'd of these,
Plenty, content, and pow'r, might take their turn,
And lofty pride bare its aspiring head

At our approach, and once more bend before us.
-A pleasing dream! 'Tis past; and now I wake
More wretched by the happiness I've lost;
For sure it was a happiness to think,

Though but a moment, such a treasure mine.

Nay, it was more than thought-I saw and touch'd
The bright temptation, and I see it yet
'Tis here-'tis mine-I have it in possession-
-Must I resign it? Must I give it back?

Am I in love with misery and want?

To rob myself, and court so vast a loss?-
Retain it then- -But how? There is a way-

Why sinks my heart? Why does my blood run cold?
Why am I thrill'd with horror? 'Tis not choice,
But dire necessity suggests the thought.

Enter OLD WILMOT.

O. Wilm. The mind contented, with how little pains

The wand'ring senses yield to soft repose,

And die to gain new life! He's fallen asleep Already Happy man! What dost thou think,

My Agnes, of our unexpected guest?
He seems to me a youth of great humanity :
Just ere he clos'd his eyes, that swam in tears,
He wrung my hand, and press'd it to his lips;
And with a look, that pierc'd me to the soul,
Begg'd me to comfort thee: and-Dost thou hear
me?-

What art thou gazing on? Fie, 'tis not well-
This casket was deliver'd to you closed:

Why have you open'd it? Should this be known,
How mean must we appear.

Agn. And who shall know it?

O. Wilm. There is a kind of pride, a decent dignity Due to ourselves; which, spite of our misfortunes, May be maintain'd and cherish'd to the last. To live without reproach, and without leave To quit the world, shews sovereign contempt, And noble scorn of its relentless malice.

Agn. Shews sovereign madness, and a scorn of

sense!

Pursue no farther this detested theme:

I will not die,-I will not leave the world

For all that you can urge, until compell'd.

O. Wilm. To chase a shadow, when the setting sun Is darting his last rays, were just as wise

As your anxiety for fleeting life,

Now the last means for its support are failing:
Were famine not as mortal as the sword,

This warmth might be excus'd-But take thy choice:
Die how you will, you shall not die alone.

Agn. Nor live, I hope.

O. Wilm. There is no fear of that.
Agn. Then we'll live both.

O. Wilm. Strange folly! where's the means?
Agn. The means are there; those jewels
O. Wilm. Ha!-Take heed:

Perhaps thou dost but try me; yet take heed-
There's nought so monstrous but the mind of man
In some conditions may be brought t'approve;
Theft, sacrilege, treason, and parricide,
When flatt'ring opportunity entic'd,

And desperation drove, have been committed
By those who once would start to hear them nam'd.
Agn. And add to these detested suicide,

Which, by a crime much less, we may avoid.

O. Wilm. Th' inhospitable murder of our guest!— How couldst thou form a thought so very tempting, So advantageous, so secure, and easy;

And yet so cruel, and so full of horror?

Agn. 'Tis less impiety, less against nature,
To take another's life, than end our own.

O. Wilm. It is no matter, whether this or that
Be, in itself, the less or greater crime:
Howe'er we may deceive ourselves or others,
We act from inclination, not by rule,

Or none could act amiss-And that all err,
None but the conscious hypocrite denies.

-O! what is man, his excellence and strength,
When in an hour of trial and desertion,
Reason, his noblest power, may be suborn'd
To plead the cause of vile assassination!

VOL. IV.

G

Agn. You're too severe : reason may justly plead For her own preservation.

O. Wilm. Rest contented:

Whate'er resistance I may seem to make,
I am betray'd within: my will's seduc'd,
And my whole soul infected. The desire
Of life returns, and brings with it a train
Of appetites, that rage to be supplied.
Whoever stands to parley with temptation,
Does it to be o'ercome.

Agn. Then nought remains,

But the swift execution of a deed

That is not to be thought on, or delay'd. We must dispatch him sleeping: should he wake, 'Twere madness to attempt it.

O. Wilm. True; his strength

Single is more, much more than ours united;
So may
his life, perhaps, as far exceed

Ours in duration, should he 'scape this snare.

Gen'rous, unhappy man!. O what could move thee

To put thy life and fortune in the hands

Of wretches mad with anguish ?

Agn. By what means?

By stabbing, suffocation, or by strangling,
Shall we effect his death?

0. Wilm. Why, what a fiend!

How cruel, how remorseless and impatient

Have pride and poverty made thee!

Agn. Barbarous man!

Whose wasteful riots ruin'd our estate,

And drove our son, ere the first down had spread

His rosy cheeks, spite of my sad presages,
Earnest intreaties, agonies and tears,

To seek his bread 'mongst strangers, and to perish
In some remote, inhospitable land

The loveliest youth, in person and in mind,
That ever crown'd a groaning mother's pains!
Where was thy pity, where thy patience then?
Thou cruel husband! thou unnatʼral father!
Thou most remorseless, most ungrateful man,
To waste my fortune, rob me of my son;
To drive me to despair, and then reproach me
For being what thou'st made me.

O. Wilm. Dry thy tears:

I ought not to reproach thee. I confess

That thou hast suffer'd much: so have we both.

But chide no more: I'm wrought up to thy purpose. The poor, ill-fated, unsuspecting victim,

Ere he reclin'd him on the fatal couch,

From which he's ne'er to rise, took off the sash,
And costly dagger that thou saw'st him wear;
And thus, unthinking, furnish'd us with arms
Against himself. Which shall I use?

Agn. The sash.

If you make use of that, I can assist.

O: Wilm. No.

'Tis a dreadful office, and I'll spare

Thy trembling hands the guilt-steal to the door,

And bring me word; if he be still asleep.

[Exit AGNES.

Or I'm deceiv'd, or he pronounc'd himself