Hannah More.

The complete works of Hannah More online

. (page 132 of 135)
Online LibraryHannah MoreThe complete works of Hannah More → online text (page 132 of 135)
Font size
QR-code for this ebook


L^t fortune shoukl grow weary of her Kindness,
And grudge me this short transport

Dou. Where, where is she ?
My fond impatience brooks not her delay ;
Ctoiok, let me find her, hush her anxioos soal.
And sooth her troubled spirit into peace

Enter Birtha.

Bir. O horror, horror, horror 1

Dou. Ah! what mean'st thoa 1

Bir. Elwina^-

Dou, Speak —

Bir. Her grief wrought op to frenzy,
She has, in her delirium^ swallow'd poMm *

Raby. Frenzy and poison !

Dou. Both a husband's gift ;
But thus I do her justice.
Aa Douglas goes to stab hirtuelf^ enter ELWiiiA ,

diatraetedyher hair diahevelledj Percy's tcarj

in her hand.

Elw. [Goes up to Douglas.] What, blood
again ? We cannot kill him twice !
Soft soft — no violence — he 's dead already ; —
I did it — ^Yes — I drown'd him with my tears ; —
But hide the cruel deed ! I'll scratch him out
A shallow grave, and lay the ^reen sod on it ;
Ay— and 111 bind the wild bnar o'er the turf^
And plant a vrillow there, a weeping willow —

[jS^ sits on the ground.
But look you tell not Douglas, hell disturb him ;
Hell pluck the willow up— and plant a thorn.
He will not let me sit upon his grave.
And sing all day, and weep and pray all night.

Raby. Dost thou not know me 1

Elw. Yes — I do remember
You had a harmless lamb.

Raby. I had indeed ! [male,

Elw. From all the fiock you chose her out a
In sooth a Mr one — ^you did bid her love it-
But while the shepherd slept the wolf devour'd it

Raby. My heart will break. This is too mud),
too much!

Elw. [SmUin^.] O 'twas a cordial draught — ^1
drank it all.

Raby. What means my child ?

Dou. The poison ! Oh the poison !
Thou dear wrong'd innocence—

Elw. Oflf— murderer, off !
Do not defito me with those crimson hands.

[Slows the scarf.
This is his winding sheet — I'll wrap him in it —
I wrought it for my love — there — now I've dress'd

him.
How brave be kx>ks I ray father will forgive him^



Digitized by



Google



644



THE WORKS OF HAI9NAH MORE.



He dearl/ k'ov'd him once— but that b omt.
See where he comei b ew are, mj gallant Peicy,
Ah ! come not here, this b the cave of death,
And there 'a the duk, 6aA paboe of Rereng^ !
See the pale king sits on hb hk)od-«tain'd throne!
He pcnnts to me— I come, I oome, I oome.

[Shefttinis, they run to her^ Douglas taket
up ku tword and Hdba Atnwe^

Dou. Thus, thoB I follow thee.

Edr. Hold thy raah hand!

Dou. It b too late. No remedy baft tiib
Coald medicine a diieaee so desperate.

Raby. Ah, she renves !

Don. [Raiting himte^.] SheliYes! bear, bear
me to her!
We shafl be happy yet

JEk struggles to get to her^ but tinica down,
Inotbe—
O fiyr a bst embtaoe— Alas ! I fidnt—
She hvee—Now death b tnrible indeed-
Fair siwritl toVd thee— O— Elwina 1 [Dies.

Elw, Where have I been? The damps of
death are on me. [thus I

Raby. Look np, my child ! O do not leave me
Pity the angcdah of thy aged ftther.
Hflist thoa foigot me 1

EhD. No— yooareniyfitfher;
O yoQ are kindly oome to ckse my eyes.
And take the kiss of death fitom my oold lips I

Raby, Do we meet thns ?

Elw. We soon shall meet in peaee.
INrebotagdnti trnfmhranni^ ofUiepii t



Bat something telb me— O those poinfiil stn^glet
Raise me ^ little— there —

[She sees the body qf DouoLAf.
What sight b that 1 [der'df

A sword, and bloody 1 Ah! and Dooglas mar

Edr. Convinced too late of yoor uneqaaU'd
virtoes, fwrongi,

And wnmg with deep coaumnction ibr yo»
By hb own hand the wretchea Doaglas fidL

Elw. Thb adds another, sharper pang to death.
O thoa Eternal ! take him to thy mercy.
Nor let thb sin be on hb head, or mine I

Raby. I have undone you all — the crime bmine!
O thou poor injor'd saint forgive thy kther,
He kneeb to his wrong'd chdd.

Elw. Now yoa are cmel,
Come near, my father, nearer — ^I would see yoo,
But mists and darkness dood my fiiiling sight
O death! suspend thy rights for one short moment
Till I have ta'en a ftther's last ( '



A Cither's blessing. — Onoe— and now 'tb over.
Receive me to thy men^, gndous Heaven 1

[She dies.
Raby, She's ffone! for ever gone! ooU, dead
and cold.

Am I a fttherl Fathen love their children

I muiQer mine I With impious pride I anatch'd
The bolt of vengeance firom the hand of Heaten
My punishment b gieat— but oh ! 'tbjust
My som submissive bows. A righteous God
Has made my <7i ny beoome my j^hf f ^ — pmm i It

IBsmmt



Digitized by



Google



^ ^



THE FATAL FALSEHOOD:

A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS.
I n nA« ACTIO IN 1779, at tbb thbatbi botal, cotsmt oakdm.



TO



THE COUNTESS BATHURST,



TB18 TSAOIOT 18 ▼KST KB8PB0TFULLT IN80KIBKD, AS ▲

SMALL TIIBUTS TO HBR MANT TIBTUVS,

Ain> AS A

OBATBPUL TBSTIMONT OF TBB rsiBNDSHIP WITH WHIOR 8HB HONOURS

HBB MOST OBBDIBNT AITD MOST

OBLIGBD HVMBLB SBBTANT,

THE AUTHOR.



PROLOGUE.

WBITTBN BY THB AUTROB OF THB TBAOBDT.^-SPOKBN BY MB. HULL.



OvB modem poets now can scared choose
A sobfect worthy of the Traffic Mnse ;
For bards so well haVe gleanM th' historic field,
That scarce one sheaf th' ezhaosted ancients

yield;
Or if, perchance, they from the goldeii crop
Some grains, with hand penurious, rarely orop ;
Our author these consigns to manl^ toil,
For classic themes demand a classic soil.
A Tagrant she, the desert waste who chose,
Where truth and history no restraints impose.
To her the wilds of fiction open he,
A fiow'iT nrospect, and a boundless sky ;
Yet hard tne task to keep the onward way.
Where the wide scenery lures the foot to stray ;
Where no sererer limits check the Muse
Than lawless fimcy is disposed to choose.
Nor does she emulate tne loftier strains
Which high heroic Tragedy maintahis :
Nor conquest she, nor wars, nor triumphs sings.
Nor with rash hand o*ertums the thrones of

kings.
Ho ruin'd empires (preet to-night jcm eyes,
No nations at our bidding fall or rise ;



To statesmen deep, to }>oUticians graTe,
These themes, congenial to then: tastes, w»

leare,
Of crowns and camps, a kinsdom's weal or w«|
How few can judge, because how few can know !
But here you all may boast the censor's art.
Here all are critics ^o possess a heart.
And of the passions we display to-night,
Each hearer judges like the Stagyrite.
The scenes-of prirate life our author shows
A simple story of domestic woes ;
Nor unimportant is the glass we hold.
To show the efiect of passions uncontroll'd ;
For if to govern realms belong to few.
Yet all who Uto haye passioiu to subdue.
Self-conquest is the lesson books should preach.
Self-conquest is the theme the stage should

teach.
Vouchsafe to learn this obyious duty here,
The Terse though feeble, yet the moral's cleai
O mark to-night the unexam][ded woes
Which from unbounded self-indulgence flows.
Your candour once endur'd our authoi^s lays ;
Endure them now — it wiU be ample praise



PERSONS OF THE DRAMA



Earl GuiLDFOBD.
RiTBBs, his son.
Oblamdo, a young Itafian Count.



Bbbtbako.
Emmbuna.

JUUA.



8emi,^B0rl Guilstobd's CaatU,



ACTl.

ScBir»— iln ApartmeiU in Omlifori CtutU,

BnUr Bbbtbamd.

Bit. What ibols are seriously melancholy

Tflkinst
V«ImI.



Iilay a surer came, and screen my heart
"^^th easy looks and undesigning smfles ,
And whue my pk>t8 stiU spring from sober

thought, '
My deeds appear the eflfect of wild caprice,
And I the thoogfatless sfaiye of giddy chance.



Digitized by



Google



M6



THE WORKS OF HANNAH MORE.



What but this frankness could have won the

promise
Of young OrlandOi to confide to me
That secret grief which preys upon his heart t
'Tis shallow, indiscreet hypocrisy,
To seem too good : I am the careless Bertrand,
The honest, undesigning, plain, blunt man.
The follies I avow cloak those I hide.
For who will search where nothing seems con-

ceal'd 1
*Tis rogues of solid, prudent, grave demeanour,
Excite suspicion ; men on whose dark brow
Discretion, with his iron hand, has graved
The deep-markM characters of thoi^tfiilness.
Here comes my uncle, Tonerable Gmldford,
Whom I could honour, were he not the sire
Of that airing boy, who fills the gap [thee I
*Twizt me and fortune ; — ^Rivers, how I hate

Enter Guildfosd.

How fares my noble uncle 1

Guild, Honest Bertrand !

I must complain we have so seldom met :
Where do you keepi believe me, we have
miss'd you. [me, sir,

Ber. 0, my good lord ! your pardon — qpare
For there are follies in a youn^ man*8 life.
And idle thoughtless hours, which I should blush
To lay before your wise and temperate a|ge.

Otuld. Well, be it so — ^youth has a privilege,
And I should be asham'd could I forget
I have myself been young, and harshly chide
This not ungraceful gayety. Tes, Bertrand,
Prudence becomes moroeeness, when it makes
A rigid inquisition of the fault.
Not of the man, perhaps, but of his vouth.
Foibles that shame the head en which old Time
Has showered his snow, are then more pardon-
And age has many a weakness of its own. [able.

Ber. Your gentleness, my lord, and mild re-
proof,
Correct the wanderings of misguided youth.
More than rebuke can shame me into virtue.

Guild. Saw you my beauteous ward, the
lady Julia 1

Ser. She passed this way, and with her vour
Your Emmeuna. [fair daughter,

Guild. Call them both my daughters ;

For scarce is Emmelina more beloved
Than Julia, the dear child of my adoption.
The hour ^preaches too, (and, bless it heaven.
With thy benignest, kindliest induence !)
When Julia shall indeed become my daughter,
Shall, in obedience to her father's will.
Crown the impatient vows of my brave son,
And richly pay him for his danffers past.

Ber. Oa have I wondered how the gallant
Youthful and ardent, doting to excess, [Rivers,
Could dare the dangers of uncertain war.
Ere marriage had confirmed his claim to Julia.

Guild, *Twas the condition of her father's will.
My brave old fellow-soldier, and my firiend !
He wished to see our ancient houses joined
By this, our children's union ; but the veteran
So hiffhly valued military prowess,
That he bequeathed his fortunes and his daughter
To mv young Rivers, on these terms alone,
That he should early gain renown in arms ;



And if he from the field returned a conqueror.
That sun which saw him come victorious home
Should witness their espousals. Yet he comes

not!
The event of war is to the brave uncertain,
Nor can desert in arms ensure success.

Ber. Yet fame speaks loudly of his early
valour. [Orlando,

GttHd. E'er since the Italian count, the young
My Rivers' bosom friend, has been my guest,
The fflory of my son is all bis theme : «
Oh ! he recounts his virtues with such joy.
Dwells on his merit with a zeal so warm,
As to his generous heart pays back again
The praises he bestows.

Ber. Orlando's noble.

He's of a tender, brave, and ffallant nature,
Of honour nnost romantic, wiu such graces
As charm all womankind.

Chtild. And here comes one,

To whom the story of Oiiando's praise
Sounds tike sweet music.

Ber, What, your channing dau^ter !

Yes, I suspect she loves the Italian count :

{Asiie.)
That must not be. Now to observe her dos^T.

Enter Ekmblina.

Guild. Come hither, Emmelina: we were



Of the young Count Orkndo. What think yc«
Of this accomplished stranger t

Em. {etmfused.) Of Orlando!

Sir, as my father's guest, my brother's friend,
I do esteem the count

GuUd. Nay, he has merit

Might justify thy firiendship, if he wanted
The claims thou mention'st ; yet I mean to
blame him. [my father?

Em. What has he done t How has he wroi^
For you are just, and are not ai^ry lightly ;
And he is mild, unapt to give o&nce^
As you to be offended.

GuHd. Nay, 'tis not much ;

But why dous young Orlando i^un my presence 1
Why lose that cheerful and becominff spirit
Which lately charmed us alii Rivers wS

chide us,
Should he return and find his friend unhap|yr.
He is not what he was. What says my chfld 1

Em, M^ lord, when first my brother's friend
arrived—
Be still, my heart — (Aside.)

Ber, She dares not use his name

Her brother's friend ! (Aside.)

Em. When first your noble ffuest

Came from that voyage he kindly undertook
To ease our terrors for mv Rivers' safety.
When we behoved him dead, he seem*d most

happy,
And shar'd the gen*ral joy his preseoce gave..
Of late he is less gay ; my brotiier's absence,
(Or I mistake) disturbs his friend's repose :
Nor is it strange ; one mind iniimnns them hotk
Each is the very soul that warms the other,
And both are wretched or are bless'd togsdMT

Ber. Why trembles my fair cousin t

Em, CtoltluDk



Digitized by



Google



THE WORKS OF HANNAH MORE.



647



Tbet mv layM brother's life hts been in danger,
Nor feel a strong emotion t

Ber. (ironicauif.) Generous pity !

But when that dagger has so long been past,
You should ibiget your tenors.

Epl I shall nerer ;

For when I think that danger sorung from friend-
That Rivers, to preserve another's life, [ship ;
Incurred this peril, still mv wander rises.

Ber, And why anether^s lifel Why not Or-
lando's!
Such caution more betrays than honest freedom.

Guild, He's still the same, the gibing, thought-
less Bertrand,
Severe of <P^och, but innocent of malice.

[ExUGviLDtoRvi EuMXLWA going.

Ber, Stay, my £ur cousin ! still with adyerse

Amlbeheldt Had I Orlando's form, [eyes

I Biean, were I like him your brolher^s fiiena.

Then would your looks be turned thus coldly

on me f [nothing,

Em, But that I know your levity means
And that 3rour heart accords not with your
This would offend me. [tongue,

Ber, Come, confess the truth.

That this gay Florentine, this Tuscan rovebr,
Hui won your easy heart, and given you his :
I know the whole ; I'm of his secret council ;
He has confess'd -

J^m. Ha! what has he confess'd 1

Ber, That you are wondions feir : nay, noth-
ing farther :
How disi^jpointment ilres her angiy cheek !

{Aside,)
Yourself have told the rest, your looks avow it.
Tour eyes are honest, nor conceal the secret

Em. Know, sii^ that virtue no conoeMdment
needs:
So far from dreading, she solicits notice,
And wishes every secret thought she harbours.
Bare to the eye of men, as 'tis to heaven.

Ber. Yet mark me well : trust not Orlando's
truth;
The citron groves have heard his amorous vows
Breath'd out to many a beauteous maid of

Florence ;
Bred in those softer climes, his roving heart
Ne'er leam'd to think fidelity a virtue ;
He laughs at tales of British constancy.
But see, Orlando comes — he seeks you here.
With eyes bent downwards, folded arms, pale
Disorder'd looks, and negligent attire, [cheeks.
And all the careless eaiupage o( k>ve, [blood
He bends this way. Why does the mountii^
Hius crimson your fair cheek t He does not

see us;
111 venture to disturb his meditations.
And instantly return. [Exit BsiTBAifn.

Em. No more ; but leave me.

He's talkative, but harmless ; rude, but honest ;
Fuller of mirth than mischief. See, they meet —
fhis way they come ; why am I thus alann'd 1
What is't to me that here Orkndo conies !
Oh, for a little portion of that art
Un^nerous men ascr&ie to our whole sex !
A uttle artifice were prudence now :
But I h^ve none ; mj pnoor unpractis'd heart
Is so unknowing of diMinnbatittB,



So little skill'd to seem tile tUng it is not,
That if my Ups are mute, my looks betray me.

JU-^nler Bkrtbjjw wUh Oklando.

Ber. Now to alarm her heart, jand search oat
his. {Aside,)

Or. We crave your pardon, beauteous Enw
melina,
If rudely we intrude mm your thoughts ;
Thoughts nure as inlants' dreams or angels'

wishes.
And gentle as the breast from which they spring.

Em. Be still, my heart, nor let him see thy
weakness. {Aside.)

We are much bound to tiaak you, cousin Ber-
trand,
That since your late return, the Count Orkmdo
Appears once more among us. Say, my lord.
Why have vou shunn'd your friends' society t
Was it well done 1 My father bade me chide

you;
I am not made for chidmg, but he bade me ;
He says, no more you rise at early dawn
With him to chase the boar : I pleaded for you ,
Told him 'twas savage spert.

Or. What was his answer}

Em. He said 'twas sport for heroes, and
made heroes ;
Tliat hunting was the very school of war,
Taught our brave youth to shine in nobler fields,
Preserv'd them from the rust of dull inaction,
Train'd them for aims, and fitted them for con>
quest.

Or. 0, my feir adyooate ! scarce can I grieve
To have done wnmg, since my offence has
So sweet a pleader. [gain'd

Ber. {€side.) So, I like this well ;

Full of respect, but cold.

Em. My lord, your pardon ,

My father waits my coming ; I attend him.

lExk.

Ber, In truth, my lord, you're a right happy
man;
Her parting look proclaims that you are blest ;
The crimson blushes on her cheek diq>lay'd
A gentle strife 'twizt modesty and love :
Discretion strove to dash the rising joy,
But oonquering love prevail'd and told the tale.
My lord, you answer not

Or, What shall I say 1

Oh, couldst thou read my heart !

Ber. The hour is come

When my impatient friendship claims that tmat
Which I so ofl have press'd,

rKimis'd.
cannot tell thee; 'tis a tale of guilt ;
How shall I qpeaki my resolution sickens ;
All virtuous men will shun me, thou wilt scooi
And fly the foul contagion of my crime, [me,
Ber, My bosom is not steel'd with that harsh
prudence
Which would reproach thy friflings : tell me aU ;
The proudest heart loves to repose its faults
Upon a breast that has itself a tmcture
Of human weakness : I have frailties too,
Frailties that teach me how to pity thine.
What ! sUent still t Thou lov'st my beauteous
Have I not guess'd^ [eoaMi!'



press'd, and you have



Digitized by



Google



648



THE WORKS OF HANNAH MORE.



Or. I own that she haa channa

Bfight wann a frozen stoic mto love,
Tempt hermits back again to that bad world
They had renounc*d, and make religious ^?^
Forgetful of their holy tows 'n attr^ .
Tea, Bertrand—- come, FU tell thee all my weak-
Thou hast a tender, sympathizing heart — [ness ;
Thou art not rigid to a friend*s defects.
That heavenly form I view with eyes as cold
As marble iowges of lifeless saints ;
I see and know the workmanah^ divine ;
My judgment owns her exquisite perfections,
But my rebellious heart denies her claim.

Ber. What do I hear ! you lore her not !

Or. Oh ! Bertrand !

for pity do not hate me ; but thou must,
or am I not at variance with myself 1
Yet shall I wrong her gentle, trusting nature,
And spurn the heart I laboured to obtain 1
She loves me, Bertrand: oh! too sure she
loves me : [sion ;

Loves me with tenderest, truest, chastest pas-
Loves me, ob, barb'roua fate ! as I love — Julia.

Btr. Heard I arightl Did yon not speak of
Julia 1
Julia ! the lovely ward of my good uncle !
Julia ! the mistress of vour friend, of Rivers t

Or. Go on, ^ on, ana urge me with my guilt ;
Dimlay my cnme in all ita native blackness ;
TeU me some legend of infernal falsehood,
Tell me some dreadful tale of perjured friends,
Of trust betray'd, of innocence deceiv*d :
Place the dire chronicle before my e^es ;
Inflame the horror, aggravate the gmlt :
Hiat I mi^ see the evus which await me,
Nor (lull such fatal mischiefs on my head,
As with my ruin must involve the fafe
Of all I love on earth.

Ber. Just as I wish. (Ande.)

Or, Thou know'st I left my native Italy,
Directed hither by the noble Rivers,
To ease his frtther's fears, who ^oufl;fat he fell
In that engagement where we both were



His was a glorious wound, gain*d in the cause
Of gen'rous friendship : for a hostile spear,
Aim*d at my breast, Rivers in his received,
Sav*d my devoted KJfe, and won my soul.

Ber. So far I knew; butwhatof Emmelinal

Or. Whether her gentle beauties first allur'd
me.
Or whether peaceful scenes and rural shadea,
Or leisure, or the want of other obiects.
Or K^tnde, apt to engender love.
Engaged my soul, I know not ; but I lov*d her.
We were together always, till the habit
Grew into'somethiuff like necessity.
When Ebmielii^ left me I was rod.
Nor knew a joy till Emmelba came ;
Her soft aociety amus'd my mmd,
FillM up mj vacant heart, and touch*d my soul :
Twatf gratitude, Hwaa friendahip, Hwas esteem,
*rwas reason, 'twas persuaaion, — ^nay, 'twas

Ber. But where was Julia 1 pove.

Or. Oh ! too soon she came ;

For when I saw that wondrous form of beauty,
Istood entranced, like some astronomer.
Who, as he views the bright expanse of heaven,



Finds a new star. I gaz'd, and was uaaone:
Graz'd, and forgot the tender Emmelina,
Gaz'd, and foivot the gen'rous, trusting Rivers^
Forgot my faith, my friendship, and my honour.
jSer. Uoes Jtdia Know your love 1
Or. Fmbid it, heaven!

What ! think'st thou I am so far gone in guili
As boldly to avow it 1 Bertrand, no ;
For all the kingdoms of the spacious earth,
I would not wrong my friend, or damn my hon-
our, [self.
Ber. Trust me, you think too hardly of your^
Or. Think I have lodg'd a aecret in thy breast
On which my peace, my fame, mv all depends ;
Long have I struggled with the »tal truth.
And scarce have dar'd to breathe it to myself:
For, oh ! too surely the first downward stq>.
The treacherous path that leads to guilty deed%
Is to make ain familiar to the thounita. {Exit.
Ber. Am I awake 1 No : *tis deloaion all !
My wildest wishes never soar'd to this ;
Fortune anticipates my plot : be loves her.
Loves just whom I would have him lov» - loves

Julia!
Orlando, yes, I'll play thee at my will ;
Poor puppet ! thou hast trusted to my hand
The atnngs by which I'll move thee to thy nun,
And make thee too the instrument of vengeance.
Of glorious vengeance on the man I hate. [ExiL

ACT IL
Enter Julia and Emmsuna.

Julia. How many cares perplex the maid wha
loves!
Cares which the vacant heart can never know.
Tou fondly tremble for a brother'a hfe ;
Orlando mourns the absence of a friend ;
Guildford is anxious for a aon*a rezkown ;
In my poor heart your various terrors meet.
With sdded fears and fonder apprehensiens *
They all unite in me, I fee) for att.
His life, his fame, his absence, and his love ;
For he may live to aee hia native home.
And he mi^ live to bless a aister's hopea.
May live to gratify impatient friendship.
May live to crown a father's house with honev,
May live to gloiy, yet be dead to love.

Em. Forbear these fears; th^ wound ov
brother'a honour:
JuUa ! a brave man must be ever foithfnl ;
Cowards alone dare venture to be false ;
Cowards alone dare injure trusting virtue,
And with bold perjuries affiont h^ heaven.

Jt^ia. I know his faith, and venerate his vir*
I know his heart is tender aa 'tis brave ; [tees ;
That all his father's worth, his aister'a softnesa»
Meet in his generous bresst ■ and yet I fear^
Whoever lord like me, and did not fear ^

Enter GuiLorosn.

Ouild. Where are my fiienda, my daughter ^
where ia Julia t
How shall I speak the fbfaieia of my heart «
My son, my Rivers, wiU this day retam.

Em. My dearest brother !

Julia. Ha ! my Rivora comes*

Propitious heaven !



Digitized by



Google



THE WORKS OF HANNAH MORE.



649



Bm, And yet my Julia trembles.

Jtdia. Have I not cause ? my Riven comes !
I dread to ask, and yet I die to hear, [but how 1
My lord — you know the terms—

Giald. He comes a conqueror !

He comes as Guildford's son should ever come !
The battle's o'er, the Eujy^lish aims successful,
And Rivers, like an En^sh warrior, hastes
To la]r his laurels at the feet of beauty. [Exit,

Julia. My joy oppresses me !

Em. And see, Orlando !

How will the welcome news transport his soul.
And raise his drooping heart ! witn caution tell

him.
Lest the o'erwhehning n4>ture be too much
For his dejected mind.

Enter Oblando and Bibtxand.

Julia. My lord Orlando,

Wherefore that troubled air 1 no more you dwell
On your once darlingtheme ; you speak no more
The praises of your Rivers ; is he chanff 'd 1
Is he not still the gallant friend you lord.
As virtuous and as valiant 1

Or, Still the same ;

He must be ever virtuous, ever valiant

Em. If Rivers is the same, then must I think
Orlando greatly chang'd ; you speak not of him,
Nor lon^ ibr hiis return, as you were wont.
How did you use to spend tne hvelonff day,
la telling some new wonders of your mend.
Till niffht broke in upon th' unfinish'd tale ;
And ^men 'twas o'er, you would begin again.
And we asain would listen with delist,
With fresh delight, as if we had not heard it !
Does Rivers less deserve, or you less tove 1

Or. Have I not lov'd hun 1 vras mv fHendship
When any praised hit glories in the field t [cold
My raptur'd heart has bounded at the tale !



Online LibraryHannah MoreThe complete works of Hannah More → online text (page 132 of 135)