The Stolen Heiress Part 8

_Grav._ Ungracious Viper, let go the Traitor.

_Luc._ What to die? Oh, never!

_Pal._ Had I a hundred Lives, the Venture had Been small for such a Prize.

A Face not half so fair as thine has arm'd Whole Nations in the Field for Battle ripe: And brought a thousand Sail to _Tenedos_, To sack lamented _Troy_, and shou'd I fear To hazard one poor Life for thee, my Fair?

A Life that had been lost without thy Love, For thou'rt both Life and Soul to thy _Palante_.

_Luc._ I'll clasp him like the last Remains of Life. [_Holds him._ And struggle still with never dying Love.

_Grav._ Then thus I dash thee from him, thou Stranger [_Pushes her, and falls down._ To my Blood, there lie and grovel on the Earth, and thank the Powers I do not kill thee; away to Justice with the Traitors.

_Pal._ If there be a Torment beyond this Sight, Then lead me to it, that I may taste all The Variety of Misery, and Grow compleatly wretched.

Oh, inhuman Cruelty!

Slaves give me Way, that swift as Lightning, I may dash him dead that wrong'd _Lucasia_.

You spiteful Powers, show'r all your Curses down, Augment the Weight, and sink me all at once.

_Grav._ Away with the Traitor.

_Pal._ Oh, let me first embrace my Love, my Wife.

_Grav._ By h.e.l.l, he shall not.

Pal. _So when a s.h.i.+p by adverse Winds is tost,_ _And all the Hopes to gain the Port is lost,_ _The trembling Mariners to Heaven cry,_ _And all in vain, for no Relief is nigh._ _Around fierce Terrors strike the aking Sight;_ _So I when shut from that all-charming Light,_ _Like them must plunge in everlasting Night._ [Exit. forc'd off.

_Grav._ I'll to the Governor, and urge my injur'd Suit. _Rosco_ and _Irus_, guard that wretched Woman; take Care that she neither sends nor receives a Message. [_Exit._

_Rosco._ Yes, my Lord.

_Eug._ My very Heart bleeds to see two such faithful Lovers parted; methinks my Lord's too cruel in this Action.

_Ros._ Ay, ay, Friend; but we are to obey, not to dispute his Will.

_Eug._ I can scarce forbear revealing myself, but I will reserve it for a fitter Hour; her Grief's so great, I fear it has deprived her of her Senses; look up, Madam.

_Luc._ Where's my _Palante_, gone to death? Oh Heav'n!

Then shall I be mad, indeed? what are you, Officers of Justice! I'm ready, Sir.

_Eug._ No, Madam, I am one my Lord your Father left to attend you.

_Luc._ Attend me! alas, I need no Attendance.

_Eug._ Do not reject my Service.

_Luc._ All Service comes too late to miserable me; My Fortune's desperate grown.

_Eug._ Believe me, Madam, I have a feeling Woe; A greater your own Brother could not have: Think not I'm suborn'd to do you wrong, By all the Pow'rs I'm your trusty Friend, Command me any Thing, and try my Faith.

_Ros._ This is a rare spoken Fellow; I can't put in a Word.

_Luc._ Oh! 'tis most prodigious; Cou'd I lose Pity in a Father's Breast, And find it in a Stranger's? I shall not Live to thank you, Sir, but my best Prayers go With you.

_Eug._ 'Tis not for Thanks, nor for Reward I look, But the Sacred Love I bear to Virtue, Makes me offer this.

_Luc._ Surely this poor Man is n.o.bly bred, howe'er His Habit speaks him. _[Aside._ All Physic comes too late to my sick Mind, Since there's no Hopes of my _Palante_'s Life.

_Eug._ Unless the Governor will please to pardon him, 'twas good that he were mov'd.

_Ros._ Be not so forward, Friend, I say; in my Conscience this Fellow will betray _Eugenio_ lives.

_Eug._ Peace, Fool.

_Ros._ You are something free, methinks.

_Luc._ Who shall dare to make that Supplication?

My Father and the Count of _Pirro_ rules; Yet I wou'd venture if I knew which Way.

_Eug._ So meritorious is the Act, that I wou'd stand the Test in giving you the Liberty to sue.

_Ros._ How, Sir?

_Eug._ Peace, Muckworm, or my Sword shall stop thy Breath for ever.

_Ros._ A desperate Fellow this, I dare not contradict him.

_Luc._ A thousand Blessings on you for your Care, _Yes, I will go, grant it ye Powers above;_ _If you had e'er regard to injur'd Love:_ _Teach me such Words as may his Pity move;_ _Let it pierce deep into his stony Heart,_ _In all my Sufferings make him feel a Part._ _Oh make him feel the Pangs of sharp Despair,_ _That he may know what wretched Lovers bear:_ _My Sighs and Tears shall with Intreaties join,_ _That he would save_ Palante's _Life, or sentence mine:_ _But if relentless to my Prayers he be,_ _And he must fall, then welcome Destiny._ _Fate does our Lives so close together twine,_ _Who cuts the Thread of his unravels mine._ [Exeunt.

SCENE _the Governor's House_.

_Enter the Governor and Count_ Pirro.

_Gov._ Welcome, my dearest Nephew, you are grown a Stranger to the Court of late, tho' you know my aged Sight receives no Joy without you; but I can forgive you since Love is the Cause: I hear you have the Lord _Gravello_'s Consent to marry the fair _Lucasia_.

_Pirro._ I had, my Lord, but am unjustly robb'd of that fair Prize you mention; my promis'd Bride is stolen by _Palante_, Lord _Euphenes_'s Foster-Son, a Man far unworthy of _Lucasia_'s Love; her Father with Officers are gone to apprehend 'em--and bring 'em here before you to receive their Doom: Oh, Uncle, if ever you had a Kindness for me; if the being ally'd to you by Blood, or aught I have done, or can hereafter do, let me intreat you to give the Law its utmost Course: Young _Clerimont_ too a.s.sisted in the Rape.

_Gov._ Fear not, Nephew, the Law shall have its Course, and they shall surely die.

_Enter_ Euphenes _and Count_ Gravello _at several Doors_.

_Euph._ My Lord, the Governor, I am come begging to you, for _Palante_ my Foster-Son, whom, Childless, I adopted for my own; for him I plead.

_Gov._ What is his Offence?

_Euph._ No heinous Crime, my Lord, no treasonable Plot against your Person or the State, for then these aged Cheeks wou'd blush to ask Pardon. No crying Murder stains his Hands, his Fault is only Love: Unfortunately he has married the Daughter and Heiress to that proud Lord that follows, and seeks the last Extremity.

_Grav._ I seek no more than what the Law will give; I am abus'd, my Lord, my Daughter is stoll'n, the only Comfort of my Age: Justice, my Lord, 'tis Justice that I ask.