The Stolen Heiress Part 12

_Lar. Lavinia_'s Fame! No Monster, thou hast robb'd, robb'd her of her Fame.

_Fran._ The Wrong my Love has done your fair Daughter, 'tis now too late to wish undone again, but if you please it may be clos'd up yet without Dishonour, I will marry her.

_Lar._ Marry her? she'll have a mighty Bargain of that, marry a Beggar, what Jointure canst thou make her?

_Fran._ I am poor, I must confess, in regard of your large Wealth, but I swear by all Things that can bind, 'twas not your Wealth was the Foundation of true-built Love, it was her single uncompounded self, her self without Addition that I lov'd, which shall ever in my Heart out-weigh all other Womens Fortunes with themselves, and were I great, great as I cou'd wish myself for her Advancement, no such Bar as Fortune's Inequality shou'd stand betwixt our Loves.

_Lar._ Say you so, Sir, why then take her----there hang, drown'd or starve together, I care not which, but never come within my Doors more.

[_Throws her to him._ [_Exit_ Larich.

_San._ Hey day, what have I lost my Mistress then, why what must I say to my Father, _Tristram_, who'll run stark mad without Hopes of a Grandson?

_Tristr._ Oh, Sir, if this Gentleman had not put in his Claim, here had been one ready to his Hands.

_San._ Ah Pox on't, 'tis d.a.m.n'd unlucky, but come let's to the Tavern and drink away Sorrow. [_Exeunt._

_Fran._ Come my fair _Lavinia_, and find a Father in thy Husband's Arms, oh thou charming Excellence, thou something better sure than ever Woman was, the matchless Proof that thou hast given of thy Love shall be recorded to Posterity----

_Lav._ It is a matchless one indeed, and I struggled long e'er I cou'd bring myself to own a Deed so distant from my Heart, but it has serv'd my Purpose, and I glory in it now, but my Father's last Words methinks chills my Blood, how shall you like the Yoke without lining think you ha!

_Fran._ Don't wrong my Love _Lavinia_, or think that I can want any Thing when possest of thee.

_Love shall make up what Fortune does deny,_ _And Love alone shall all our Wants supply._ [Exeunt.

_The_ SCENE _changes to the Street,

Count_ Pirro _and Lord_ Gravello.

_Grav._ Now my Lord she's your's again, _Palante_ dies.

_Pirro._ So n.o.ble were the Carriage of the Youths that I could almost pity their hard Sentence.

_Grav._ I admire _Palante_'s Constancy, he seem'd regardless when the Jury p.r.o.nounc'd his Sentence, as if he feared not Death, but when his Friends came on, I observed the Tears to fall.

_Pirro._ He begg'd very hard to save his Friend.----

_Grav._ And his Friend as eagerly to die with him, truly I think _Clerimont_'s Crime did not deserve Death, but our _Sicilian_ Laws doom all to Death that have but the least Hand in stealing of an Heiress, but see the Lord _Euphenes_, he sticking hard to save his Foster Son, let's avoid him, for I know he'll rail. [_Exit._

_Enter Lord_ Euphenes.

_Euph._ Unhappy poor _Palante_, the Law has cast thee in Spite of all that I could do to save thee, I'd give my whole Estate to rescue thee from Death: In thee methought my lost _Lysander_ liv'd, and in losing thee I'm childless now indeed. I lov'd thee like my own Son, I rescu'd thee from Pyrates, by which my Child was lost.

_Enter_ Alphonso.

_Alphon._ Thus once again from twenty Years Exile.

(Tost by the Storms of Fortune to and fro) Has gracious Heav'n giv'n me Leave to tread My native Earth of _Sicily_, and draw That Air that fed me in my Infancy.

_Euph._ Ha! either my Eyes deceive me or 'tis my good old Friend _Alphonso_.

_Alph._ My Lord _Euphenes_?

_Euph. Alphonso_, welcome to _Sicily_, I thought thee dead with my unhappy Son, or what was worse, in Slavery, where no Intelligence cou'd find thee, for I have us'd my utmost Diligence.

_Alph._ In part you have guess'd aright, for I have been twenty tedious Years in gauling Slavery, for when the _Argives_ surprized the Fort they hurried me on board, and because I made a brave Resistance, they ne'er wou'd give me Leave to offer at my Ransom, so violent was their Hate, but now worn out with Age, unfitting for their Labour, they turn'd me Home, an useless Drone, your Son they put on board another s.h.i.+p, and by some I heard it rumoured, he being wondrous fair, that they design'd to breed him for the Sultan's Use, but some Years after I heard he was retaken on this Coast.

_Euph._ Ha!

_Alph._ I conceal'd his Name, least the many Conquests you have gain'd against them shou'd have wing'd their Revenge, and made 'em kill the lovely Child, I call'd him _Palante_, have you ever heard of such a one?

_Euph._ Oh all ye immortal Powers, the very same, I took, and is _Palante_ then _Lysander_, and have I found thee once to lose thee ever?

_Alph._ Ha! what means all this?

_Euph._ 'Twas Nature then that worked my Soul, and I by Instinct lov'd him. Oh my _Alphonso_, this Discovery comes too late, and instead of bringing Comfort to my Age, thou hast plung'd me down in deep Despair.

_Alph._ Alas, my Lord, how have I err'd? pray explain yourself.

_Euph._ Oh _Alphonso_! the Youth thou speak'st of I retook from _Argive_ Pirates, I bred him, and tho' not sensible who he was, I lov'd him tenderly: He is this very Day condemn'd for stealing of an Heiress, now judge if my Grief falls not with Weight upon me.

_Alph._ Unfortunate Mischance, is there no Way to save him?

_Euph._ None I fear, but yet I'll try all Means, if my long Service to my Country, my Winter Camps, and Summer Heats, and all my stormy Fate at Sea can plead, I will expand my Deeds as _Rome_'s Consuls did of old, make bare my Breast, and shew my scar'd Bosom to move and raise their Pity.

_I that ne'er mention'd aught my Arm has done,_ _Will now urge all to save my darling Son._ [Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE _a Prison_.

Palante _and_ Clerimont _come forward_.

_Pal._ Oh! _Clerimont_, I swear by my malignant Stars, Death brings no Terrors with it but for thee; The Thoughts of thine, and that I have involv'd In my sad Fate, my best and only Friend, Sits heavy on my Soul, and gives me double Death: My Father's Tears, whom now too late I know, Pierce not my Breast with half this killing Grief, This gnaws me worse than my _Lucasia_'s Loss; And, like a _Vulture_, preys upon my Heart.

I was rewarded, call'd _Lucasia_ mine: For such a Treasure who wou'd refuse to die?

But thou'rt condemn'd for only aiding me, I am the Cause of thy sad Fate, my Friend; Hurry'd by me to an untimely Grave: Thou fall'st for him thou ever hast oblig'd.

_Cler._ No more _Palante_---- Why dost thou call me by the Name of Friend?

Yet think I cou'd descend from Friends.h.i.+p's Rules: For so I must shou'd I repine at Death, Or fear to suffer with so brave a Man.

To die is nothing to a Man resolv'd: Why shou'd we wish to hold this mortal Frame, By Nature subject to such various Ills, Which first or last brings certain Death to all?

Were there no Hand, indeed, but human Laws To cut the Thread of our Mortality, Then we had Cause for Grief; but when we reflect We only leap the Abyss a little sooner, Where all Mankind must follow by degrees, The Apprehension moves not me.

_Pal._ Oh! n.o.ble Constancy---- After Ages shall record the Story, And rank thee with the bravest _Roman_ Youths; And melancholy Virgins when they read, In moving Accents celebrate thy Name.

_Cler._ What baleful Planet rul'd when thou wert born, That mark'd for thee this Path of Sorrow out?

Oh! ye malicious Stars, when ye had stood So long the rude Buffets of blind Fortune, And now just as the pleasing Scene appear'd, I' th' Moment when th' art found of n.o.ble Birth, And wed to thy long wish'd for Bride _Lucasia_, Then to s.n.a.t.c.h thee hence, is twice to kill thee.

Oh! it is the Mock'ry of spiteful Fates, When we with Labour reach the aim'd at Wish, Straight this unstable Fairy World removes.