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sure, but provides for his Departure in the following Manner:

Sfor. Stay you, Francisco.

—You fee how Things stand with me?

Fran. To my Gries:
And if the Loss of my poor Lise could be
A Sacrisice, to restore them as they were,
I willingly would lay it down.

Sfor. I think so;
For I have ever found you true and thanksul,
Which makes me love the Building I have rais'd,
In your Advancement; and repent no Grace
I have conser'd upon you: And, believe me,
Though now I should repeat my Favours to you,
The Titles I have given you, and the Means
Suitable to your Honours; that I thought you
Worthy my Sister, and my Family,
And in my Dukedom made you next myself;
It is not to upbraid you; but to tell you
I sind you're Worthy of them, in your Love
And Service to me.

Fran. Sir, I am your Creature;
And any Shape that you would have me wear,
I gladly will put on.

Sfor. Thus, then, Francisco;
I now am to deliver to your Trust
A weighty Secret, of so strange a Nature,
And 'twill, I know, appear so monstrous to you,
That you will tremble in the Execution,
As much as I am tortur'd to command it:
For 'tis a Deed so horrid, that, but to hear it,
Would strike into a Ruffian flesh'd in Murthers,
Or an obdurate Hangman, soft Compassion;
And yet, Francisco (of all Men the dearest,
And from me most deserving) such my State
And strange Condition is, that Thou alone
Must know the fatal Service, and perform it.

Fran,

Fran. These Preparations, Sir, to work a Stranger,
Or to one unacquainted with your Bounties,
Might appear usesul; but, to Me, they are
Needless impertinencies: For I dare do
Whate'er you dare command.

Ssor. But thou must swear it,
And put into thy Oath, all Joys, or Torments
That sright the Wicked, or consirm the Good:
Not to conceal it only (that is nothing)
But, whenfoe'er my Will (hall speak, ltrikenow!
To foil upon't like Thunder.

-Fran. Minister
The Oath in any Way, or Form you please,
1 stand resolv'd to take it.'

Ssor. Thou must do, then, What no malevolent btar will dare to look on, It is so wicked: For which, Men will curse theeFor being the Instrument; and the Angels Forfake me at my Need, for being the Author: For 'tis a Deed of Night, of Night, Francisco, In which the Memory of all pood Actions, We can pretend to, thall be buried quick: Or, if we be remember'd, it shall be To fright Posterity by our Example, That have outgone all Precedents of Villains That were besore us; and such as succeed, Though taught in Hell's black School, shall ne'er - Art thou not shaken yet! [come near us.

Fran. 1 grant you move me: But to a Man consinri'd—

Sfcr. Fll try your Temper: What think you of my Wise?

Fran. As a Thing facred;
To whose fair Name and Memory I pay gladly
Tticse Signs of Duty. [Kneels.

Sfcr: Is she not the Abstract
Of all that's rare, or to be wisiVd in Woman? .

Fran. It were a Kind of Blasphemy to dispute it: .—But to the Pi;rpose, Sir.

Sfor. Add to her Goodness,
Her Tenderness of me, her Care to please mej
Her unsuspected Chastity, ne'er equall'd,
Her Innocence, her Honour—O I am lost
In the Ocean of her Virtues, and her Graces,
"When I think of them.

Fran. Now I sind the End
Of all your Conjurations: There's fome Service
To be done for this sweet Lady. If she have Enemies
That she would have remov'd - -

Sfor. Alas! Francisco, Her greatest Enemy is her greatest Lover ;. Yet, in that Hatred, her Idolater. One Smile of her's would make a Savage tame % One Accent of that Tongue would calm the Seas, Though alltheWinds at once strove there for Empire. Yet I, for whom she thinks all this too little, Should I miscarry in this present Journey, (From whence it is all Number to a Cypher, I ne'er return with Honour) by thy Hand Must have her murther'd.

Fran. Murther'd!—She that loves fo, And fo deserves to be belov'd again? And I, who fometimes you were pleas'd to favour, Pick'd out the Instrument?

Sfor. Do not fly off: What is decreed, can never be recall'd. 'Tis more than Love to her, that marks her out A wish'd Companion to me, in both Fortunes: And strong Assurance of thy zealous Faith, That gives up to thy Trust a Secret, that Racks st.ould not have fore'd from me.—O Francisco, 1 There is no Heav'n without her; nor a Hell, Where she resides. I ask from her but Justice, And what I would have paid to her, had Sickness, Or any other Accident, divore'd Her purer Soul from her unspotted Body. The slavish Indian Princes, when they die, Vol. II. U Ar«

Are chearsully attended to the Fire
By the Wise and Slave, that living they lov'd best,
To do them Service in another World:
Nor will I be less honour'd, that love more.
And therefore trifle not, but in thy Looks
Express a ready Purpofe to perform
What I command; or, by Marcelia's Soul,
This is thy latest Minute.

Fran. 'Tis not Fear
Of Death, but Love to you, makes me embrace it.
But, for mine own Security, when 'tis done,
What Warrant have I? If you please to sign one,
I shall, though with Unwillingness and Horror,
Perform your dreadsul Charge.

Sfor. I will, Francisco: But still remember, that a Prince's Secrets Are Balm, conceal'd; but Poifon, if discover'd. I may come back; then this is but a Trial, To purchase thee, if it were possible, A nearer Place in my Afsection—but I know thee honest.

Fran. 'Tis a Character I will not part with.

Sfor. I may live to reward it. [Exeunt.

PRO

PROLOGUE

SPOKEN

By Mr. GARRICK

At the Opening of the Theatre in DruryLane, 1747.

WHEN Learning's Triumph o'er her bar-
barous Foes,
First rear'd the Stage, immortal Skakespeare rofe,
Each Change of many-colour'd Lise he drew,
Exhausted Worlds, and then imagin'd new:
Existence faw him spurn her bounded Reign,
And panting Time toil'd aster him in vain.
His powersul Strokes presiding Truth impress'd,
And unresisting Passion storm'd the Breast.

Then Jonson came, instructed from the School,
To please in Method, and invent by Rule;
His studious Patience, and laborious Art>
By regular Approach assail'd the Heart:
Cold Approbation gave the ling'ring Bays
For those who durst not censure, scarce could praise.
A Mortal born, he met the general Doom,
But left, like Egypt's Kings, a lasting Tomb.
The "Wits of Charles found easier Ways to Fame,
Nor wish'd for Jonfon's Art, or Shakespeare's Flame 5
U 2 Them-

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