Nurse. Indeed, this matrimony, SampsonSamp. Ah, nurse! this matrimony is a very good thing-but, what, now my lady is mar-I ried, I hope we shall have company come to the house there's something always coming from one gentleman or other upon those occasions, if my lady loves company. This feasting looks well, Nurse. Vil. Suddenly taken, on the road to Brussels; To do us honour, love; unfortunate! Isa. You hear it must be so. Car. To leave your bride so soon! My absence, in the hopes of my return. The longer that my Isabella sighs: Enter Servant, and bows. My horses wait: farewell, my love! You, Carlos, Car. And I receive her as a friend and bro- Vil. Nay, stir not, love! for the night air is cold, And the dews fall-Here be our end of parting; Thus to be torn from thee, and all those charms, Carlos will see me to my horse. Though cold to me and dead. Isa. I'm sorry for the cause. Could I persuade myself that your concern And be a gay companion in my journey; [Erit with Carlos. Isa. Oh, may thy brother better all thy hopes ! Adieu. A sudden melancholy bakes my blood! SCENE I.-The Street. ACT IV. Enter BIRON and BELFORD, just arrived. Bir. THE longest day will have an end; we are got home at last. Bel. We have got our legs at liberty; and liberty is home wherever we go; though mine lies most in England. Bir. Pray let me call this yours: for what I can command in Brussels, you shall find your own. I have a father here, who, perhaps, after seven years absence, and costing him nothing in my travels, may be glad to see me. You know my story-How does my disguise become me? Bel. Just as you would have it; 'tis natural, and will conceal you. Bir. To-morrow you shall be sure to find me here, as early as you please. This is the house; you have observed the street. Bel. I warrant you; I have not many visits to make before I come to you. Bir. To-night I have some affairs that will oblige me to be in private. Bel. A good bed is the privatest affair that I desire to be engaged in to-night; your directions will carry me to my lodgings. [Exit. [Knocks. Bir. Good night, my friend. The long expected moment is arrived! And if all here is well, my past sorrows Will only heighten my excess of joy; And nothing will remain to wish or hope for! [Knocks again. Enter SAMPSON. you have? Samp. Who's there! What would Bir. Is your lady at home, friend?' Samp. Why, truly, friend, it is my employment to answer impertinent questions: but, for my lady's being at home, or no, that's just as my lady pleases. Bir. But how shall I know whether it pleases her or no? Samp. Why, if you will take my word for it, you may carry your errand back again; she never pleases to see any body at this time of night that she does not know; and by your dress and appearance I am sure you must be a stranger to her. Bir. But I have business; and you don't know how that may please her. Samp. Nay, if you have business, she is the best judge whether your business will please her or no; therefore I will proceed in my office, and know of my lady whether or no she is pleased to be at home, or no[Going. Enter Nurse. Nurse. Who's that you are so busy withal? Methinks, you might have found out an answer in fewer words; but, Sampson, you love to hear yourself prate sometimes, as well as your betters. that I must say for you. Let me come to him. Who would you speak with, stranger? Bir. With you, mistress, if you could help me to speak to your lady. Nurse. Yes, sir, I can help you in a civil way but can nobody do your business but may lady? Bir. Not so well; but if you carry her this ring, she will know my business better. Nurse. There's no love-letter in it, I hope; you look like a civil gentleman. In an honest way, I may bring you an answer. [Erit. Bir. My old nurse, only a little older! Thev say the tongue grows always: mercy on me! then hers is seven years longer since I left her. Yet there's something in these servants' folly pleases me; the cautious conduct of the family appears, and speaks in their impertinence. Weil, mistress Nurse returns. Nurse. I have delivered your ring, sir. Pray Heaven you bring no bad news along with you! Bir. Quite the contrary, I hope. Nurse. Nay, I hope so too; but my lady was very much surprised when I gave it her. Sir, I am but a servant, as a body may say; but if you walk in, that I may shut the doors, for we keep very orderly hours, I can shew you into the parlour, and help you to an answer, perhaps as soon as those that are wiser. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A chamber. Enter ISABELLA. Isa. I have heard of witches, magic spells, and charms, That have made nature start from her old course: I'll call you when I want you. [Servant goes out. Enter Nurse. Nurse. Madam, the gentleman's below. This ring was the first present of my love Bir. Oh! come again! Thy Biron summons thee to life and love; İsa. My husband! Biron? Bir. Excess of love and joy, for my return, Has overpowered her. I was to blame To take thy sex's softness unprepared: But sinking thus, thus dying in my arms, This ecstacy has made my welcome more Than words could say: words may be counterfeit, False-coined, and current only from the tongue, Without the mind; but passion's in the soul, And always speaks the heart. Isa. Where have I been! Why do you keep I know his voice: my life upon the wing, Isa. But pardon me, Excuse the wild disorder of my soul: I was preserved but to be made a slave : Isa. What a world of woe Had been prevented but in hearing from you! Bir. Alas! thou couldst not help me! Isa. You do not know how much I could have done; At least, I'm sure I could have suffered all: Isa. My life, but to have heard [Aside. Bir. No more, my love. Complaining of the past, We lose the present joy. 'Tis over price I hear he's living still. Isa. Well both, both well; And may he prove a father to your hopes, Though we have found him none ! Bir. Come, no more tears. Isa. Seven long years of sorrow for your Have mourned with me Bir. And all my days behind loss, Shall be employed in a kind recompence Bir. To-morrow I shall see him; I want rest Myself, after this weary pilgrimage. Isa. Alas! what shall I get for you? Bir. Nothing but rest, my love! To-night I would not Be known, if possible, to your family: I see my nurse is with you; her welcome Isa. I'll dispose of her, and order every thing The joy, the strange surprising joy of seeing you, As you would have it. Bir. Thou everlasting goodness! Isa. Answer me : What hand of Providence has brought you back To your own home again? O, satisfy The impatience of my heart: I long to know The story of your sufferings. You would think Your pleasures sufferings, so long removed From Isabella's love. But tell me all, For every thought confounds me. [Exit. Bir. Grant me but life, good Heaven, and give the means, To make this wondrous goodness some amends: O! she deserves of me much more than I A father, and his fortune, for her love! sons: Isa. We thought you dead; killed at the siege What is your trash, what all your heaps of gold, Bir. My best life! at leisure, all. of Candy. Bir. There I fell among the dead; But hopes of life reviving from my wounds, VOL. I. Compared to this, my heart-felt happiness? [Bursts into tears. What has she, in my absence, undergone? 3 A Isa. I'll but say my prayers, and follow you-Nor never can; believe thyself, thy eyes, My prayers! no, I must never pray again. That first inflamed, and lit me to my love; Prayers have their blessings to reward our hopes, Those stars, that still must guide me to my But I have nothing left to hope for more. joysWhat Heaven could give, I have enjoyed; but now The baneful planet rises on my fate, I promised him to follow-him! Is he without a name? Biron, my husband, [Weeping. -What's to be done?-for something must be My reputation! Oh, 'twas all was left me! Therefore no morrow: Ha! a lucky thought Isa. And me to my undoing: I look round, I thank them, have at last found out a way Isa. Hope is a lying, fawning flatterer, A trusted friend, who only can betray you; Bir. Has marriage made thee wretched? Isa. Miserable, beyond the reach of comfort. Bir. Do I live to hear thee say so? Isa. Why, what did I say? Bir. That I have made thee miserable. Isa. No: you are my only earthly happiness; false tongue belied my honest heart, And my If it said otherwise. Bir. And yet you said, Your marriage made you miserable. I have said too much, unless I could speak all. Bir. Thy words are wild; my eyes, my ears, my heart, Were all so full of thee, so much employed Isa. You will tell nobody Bir. Thou art not well. [Distractedly. Isa. Indeed I am not; I knew that before; But where's the remedy? Bir. Rest will relieve thy cares: come, come, Bir. Am I the cause? the cause of thy misfortunes? Isa. The fatal innocent cause of all my woes. Bir. Is this my welcome home? This the reward Of all my miseries, long labours, pains, soon. Isa. Pray, let me go : Bir. Rack me not with imaginations Of things impossible- mean. 'Twas madness all -Thou canst not mean -Compose thyself, my love! Isa. To bed! You have raised the storm Indeed we both have been unfortunate; How wilt thou curse thy fond believing heart, Bir. Stay, my Isabella [Exit. What can she mean? These doubtings will dis tract me: Some hidden mischief soon will burst to light; As sometimes you have thought me, on my I cannot bear it-I must be satisfied knees, (The last time I shall care to be believed) I beg you, beg to think me innocent, Clear of all crimes, that thus can banish me From this world's comforts, in my losing you. 'Tis she, my wife, must clear this darkness to me. She shall-if the sad tale at last must come! She is my fate, and best can speak my doom. [Exit. ACT V. SCENE I. Enter BIRON. Nurse following him. Poor Isabella! now I know the cause, That drive me to my ruin. They knew well Enter Nurse and SAMPSON. Nurse. Here's strange things towards, Sampson: what will be the end of them, do you think? Samp. Nay, marry, nurse, I cannot see so far; |