Horatio and Lavinia too are mine;
[Embraces Horatio. All are my children, and shall share my heart. But wherefore waste we thus this happy day? The laughing minutes summon thee to joy, And with new pleasures court thee as they pass; Thy waiting bride ev'n chides thee for delaying, And swears thou com'st not with a bridegroom's haste. [Exit HORATIO, L. U. E.
Alt. O could I hope there was
One kind remembrance in Calista's breast,
The winds with all their wings would be too slow
To bear me to her feet. But, O, my father!
Amidst the stream of joy that bears me on,
Blest as I am, and honour'd in your friendship,
There is one pain that hangs upon my heart.
Sci. What means my son?
Alt. When, at your intercession,
Last night, Calista yielded to my happiness,
Just ere we parted, as I seal'd my vows
With rapture on her lips, I found her cold
As a dead lover's statue on his tomb:
A rising storm of passion shook her breast,
Her eyes a piteous shower of tears let fall,
And then she sigh'd as if her heart were breaking.
With all the tend'rest eloquence of love,
I begg'd to be a sharer in her grief:
But she, with looks averse, and eyes that froze me,
Sadly reply'd, her sorrows were her own,
Nor in a father's power to dispose of.
Sci. Away! it is the cozenage of their sex,
One of the common arts they practise on us,
To sigh and weep then when their hearts beat high
With expectation of the coming joy.
Thou hast in camps and fighting fields been bred,
Unknowing in the subtleties of women:
The virgin bride, who swoons with deadly fear,
To see the end of all her wishes near,
When, blushing, from the light and public eyes
To the kind covert of the night she flies,
With equal fires to meet the bridegroom moves,
Melts in his arms, and with a loose she loves.
[Exeunt, R.
Enter LOTHARIO and Rossano, r.
Loth. (c.) The father, and the husband!
Ross. (R. c.) Let them pass:
They saw us not.
Loth. I care not if they did:
Ere long I mean to meet 'em face to face,
And gall 'em with my triumph o'er Calista.
Ross. You loved her once.
Loth. I liked her, would have married her,
But that it pleas'd her father to refuse me,
To make this honourable fool her husband:
For which, if I forget him, may the shame
I mean to brand his name with, stick on mine.
Ross. She, gentle soul, was kinder than her father.
Loth. She was, and oft in private gave me hearing;
Till, by long listening to the soothing tale,
At length her easy heart was wholly mine.
Ross. I've heard you oft describe her, haughty, insolent,
And fierce with high disdain; it moves my wonder,
That virtue, thus defended, should be yielded
A prey to loose desires.
Loth. Hear then, I'll tell thee:
Once, in a lone and secret hour of night,
When ev'ry eye was closed, and the pale moon
And stars alone shone conscious of the theft,
Hot with the Tuscan grape, and high in blood,
Haply I stole unheeded to her chamber.
Ross. That minute sure was lucky.
Loth. O, 'twas great!
I found the fond, believing, love-sick maid
Loose, unattired, warm, tender, full of wishes;
Fierceness and pride, the guardians of her honour,
Were charm'd to rest, and love alone was waking.
Within her rising bosom all was calm,
As peaceful seas that know no storms, and only
Are gently lifted up and down by tides.
I snatch'd the glorious, golden opportunity,
And with prevailing, youthful ardour press'd her,
Till with short sighs, and murmuring reluctance,
The yielding fair one gave me perfect happiness.
Even all the live-long night we pass'd in bliss,
In extacies too fierce to last for ever:
At length the morn and cold indifference came;
When, fully sated with the luscious banquet,
I hastily took leave, and left the nymph
To think on what was past, and sigh alone.
Ross. You saw her soon again?
Loth. Too soon I saw her;
For, oh! that meeting was not like the former:
I found my heart no more beat high with transport.
No more I sigh'd, and languish'd for enjoyment;
'Twas past, and reason took her turn to reign,
While ev'ry weakness fell before her throne....
Ross. What of the lady?
Loth. With uneasy fondness
She hung upon me, wept, and sigh'd, and swore
She was undone; talk'd of a priest and marriage;
Of flying with me from her father's power;
Call'd every saint and blessed angel down,
To witness for her that she was my wife.
I started at that name.
Ross. What answer made you?
Loth. None; but pretending sudden pain and illness, Escaped the persecution. Two nights since,
By message urged and frequent importunity,
Again I saw her. Straight with tears and sighs,
With swelling breasts, with swooning and distraction,
With all the subtleties and powerful arts
Of wilful woman lab'ring for her purpose,
Again she told the same dull nauseous tale.
Unmoved, I begg'd her spare th' ungrateful subject,
Since I resolved, that love and peace of mind
Might flourish long inviolate betwixt us,
Never to load it with the marriage chain:
That I would still retain her in my heart,
My ever gentle mistress and my friend;
But for those other names of wife and husband
They only meant ill-nature, cares, and quarrels.
Ross. How bore she this reply?
Loth. At first her rage was dumb, and wanted words;
But when the storm found way, 'twas wild and loud:
Mad as the priestess of the Delphic god,
Enthusiastic passion swell'd her breast,
Enlarged her voice, and ruffled all her form.
Proud, and disdainful of the love I proffer'd,"
She call'd me-Villain! Monster! Base betrayer!
At last, in very bitterness of soul,
With deadly imprecations on herself,
She vow'd severely ne'er to see me more;
Then bade me fly that minute: I obey'd,
And, bowing, left her to grow cool at leisure.
Ross. She has relented since,-else why this mes
To meet the keeper of her secrets here
This morning?
Loth. See the person whom you named.
Well, my ambassadress, what must we treat of?
Come you to menace war and proud defiance,
Or does the peaceful olive grace your message?
Is your fair mistress calmer? Does she soften?
And must we love again? Perhaps she means
To treat in juncture with her new ally,
And make her husband party to th' agreement.
Luc. (L.) Is this well done, my lord? Have you put
All sense of human nature? Keep a little,
A little pity, to distinguish manhood,
Lest other men, though cruel, should disclaim you,
And judge you to be number'd with the brutes.
Loth. I see thou'st learnt to rail.
Luc. I've learnt to weep:
That lesson my sad mistress often gives me:
By day she seeks some melancholy shade,
To hide her sorrows from the prying world;
At night she watches all the long, long hours,
And listens to the winds and beating rain,
With sighs as loud, and tears that fall as fast.
Then, ever and anon, she wrings her hands.
And cries-False, false Lothario!
I swear, thou'lt spoil that pretty face with crying,
And thou hast beauty that may make thy fortune:
Some keeping cardinal shall doat upon thee,
And barter his church treasure for thy freshness.
Luc. What shall I sell my innocence and youth, For wealth or titles to perfidious man!
To man, who makes his mirth of our undoing!
The base, profest betrayer of our sex!
Let me grow old in all misfortunes else,
Rather than know the sorrows of Calista !
Loth. Does she send thee to chide in her behalf?
I swear, thou dost it with so good a grace,
That I could almost love thee for thy frowning.
Luc. Read there, my lord, there, in her own sad [Giving a Letter.
Which best can tell the story of her woes,
That grief of heart which your unkindness gives her.
"Your cruelty-obedience to my father-gives my hand to Altamont."
[Aside.] By Heaven, 'tis well! Such ever be the gifts With which I greet the man whom my soul hates. But to go on!
66 -Wish- -heart-honour
-too faithlessweakness-to-morrow-last trouble-lost Calista."
Women, I see, can change as well as men.
She writes me here, forsaken as I am,
That I should bind my brows with mournful willow,
For she has given her hand to Altamont :
Yet, tell the fair inconstant
Luc. How, my lord!
Loth. Nay, no more angry words; say to Calista,
The humblest of her slaves shall wait her pleasure;
If she can leave her happy husband's arms,
To think upon so lost a thing as I am.
Luc. Alas! for pity, come with gentler looks':
Wound not her heart with this unmanly triumph;
And though you love her not, yet swear you do,
So shall dissembling once be virtuous in you.
Loth. Ha! who comes here?
Luc. The bridegroom's friend, Horatio. He must not see us here. To-morrow early Be at the garden gate.
Loth. Bear to my love
My kindest thoughts, and swear I will not fail her. [LOTHARIO, putting up the Letter hastily, drops it as he goes out.]
[Exeunt LOTHARIO, ROSSANO, R. S. E. and LUCILLA, L.
Enter HORATIO, L. U. E.
Hor. Sure 'tis the very error of my eyes;
Waking I dream, or I beheld Lothario:
He seem'd conferring with Calista's woman.
At my approach they started, and retired.
What business could he have here, and with her?
I know, he bears the noble Altamont
Profest and deadly hate.-What paper's this?
[Taking up the Letter.
Ha! To Lothario.-'Sdeath! Calista's name?
[Opening it.-Reads. "Your cruelty has at length determined me, and I have resolved this morning to yield a perfect obedience to my father, and to give my hand to Altamont, in spite
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