To meet the keeper of her secrets here
This morning?

Loth. See the person whom you nam'd!

Enter LUCILLA.

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. Is this well done, my lord? Have you put off All sense of human nature? Keep a little,

A little pity, to distinguish manhood,

Lest other men, tho' cruel, should disclaim you,
And judge you to be number'd with the brutes.
Loth. I see thou'st learn't 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!

Loth. Oh, no more!

I swear thou'lt spoil thy pretty face with crying,
And thou hast beauty that may make thy fortune:

240

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. 200

lines,

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. [Lothario reads.

Your cruelty-Obedience to my father-Give my hand to

Altamont.

By Heav'n 'tis well! such ever be the gifts

With which I greet the man whom my soul hates.

But to go on!

[Aside.

-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 giv'n her hand to Altamont :

Yet, tell the fair inconstant

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: 280 Wound not her heart with this unmanly triumph; And, tho' 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 and Rossano one way, Lucilla another.

Enter HORATIO.

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 retir'd.

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!-'s death! Calista's name!

Confusion and misfortunes!

[Opening it. [Reads.

Your cruelty has at length determined me, and I have resolv'd this morning to yield a perfect obedience to my father, and to give my hand to Alta· mont, in spite of my weakness for the false Lothario. I could almost wish I had that heart, and that honour to bestow with it, which you have robb'd 'me of:

Damnation to the rest

[Reads again.

But, Oh! I fear, could I retrieve 'em, I should again be undone by the too faithless, yet too lovely Lothario. This is the last weakness of my pen, and to-morrow shall be the last in which I will indulge my eyes. Lucilla shall conduct you, if you are kind enough to let me see you; it shall be the last trouble you shall meet with from

The lost Calista.'

The lost, indeed! for thou art gone as far
As there can be perdition. Fire and sulphur!
Hell is the sole avenger of such crimes.
Oh, that the ruin were but all thy own!
Thou wilt even make thy father curse his age;
At sight of this black scroll, the gentle Altamont
(For, Oh! I know his heart is set upon thee)
Shall droop, and hang his discontented head,
Like merit scorn'd by insolent authority,
And never grace the public with his virtues.-
"Perhaps even now he gazes fondly on her,
"And, thinking soul and body both alike,
"Blesses the perfect workmanship of Heav'n ;

320

"Then sighing, to his ev'ry care speaks peace, "And bids his heart be satisfied with happiness. "Oh, wretched husband! while she hangs about thee “With idle blandishments, and plays the fond one, "Ev'n then her hot imagination wanders, "Contriving riot, and loose 'scapes of love; "And while she clasps thee close, makes thee a mon

ster."

What if I give this paper to her father?

It follows that his justice dooms her dead,
And breaks his heart with sorrow; hard return
For all the good his hand has heap'd on us!
Hold, let me take a moment's thought-

Lav. My lord!

Enter LAVINIA.

Trust me, it joys my heart that I have found you.
Enquiring wherefore you had left the company, 341
Before my brother's nuptial rites were ended,
They told me you had felt some sudden illness.
Where are you sick? Is it your head? your heart?
Tell me, my love, and ease my anxious thoughts,
That I may take you gently in my arms,
Sooth you to rest, and soften all your pains.

Hor. It were unjust-No, let me spare my friend, Lock up the fatal secret in my breast,

Nor tell him that which will undo his quiet.

Lav, What means my lord? 1

Hor. Ha! saidst thou, my Lavinia ?