蕊蕊

Alic.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Scene Continues.

Enter Alicia. [Speaking to Jane Shore' as entring.

O farther, gentle Friend; good Angels guard you,

And fpread their gracious Wings about your
Slumbers.

The drowfy Night grows on the World and now
The bufy Craftsman and o'er-labour'd Hind
Forget the Travail of the Day in Sleep:
Care only wakes, and moping Penfivenefs,
With meagre difcontented Looks they fit,
And watch the wafting of the Midnight Taper.
Such Vigils must I keep, fo wakes my Soul,
Reflefs and felf-tormented! Oh falle Haftings!
Thou haft deftroy'd my Peace.

What Noife is that?

[Knocking without.

What Vifitor is this, who with bold Freedom
Breaks in upon the peaceful Night and Reft,
With fuch a rude Approach?

Enter a Servant.

Serv. One from the Court,

Lord Haftings (as I think) demands my Lady.

5

7201

Alic. Haftings! Be ftill my Heart, and try to meet him With his own Arts: With Falfhood--But he comes.

Enter

Enter Lord Haftings..

[Speaks to a Servant at entring.

Haft. Difmifs my Train, and wait alone without.

Alicia here! Unfortunate Encounter!

But, be it as it may.

Alic. When humbly, thus,

The Great defcend to visit the Afflicted,
When thus unmindful of their Reft, they come
To footh the Sorrows of the Midnight Mourner,
Comfort comes with them, like the golden Sun,
Difpels the fullen Shades with her fweet Influence,
And cheers the melancholy Houfe of Care.

J:

L. Haft. "Tis true, I wou'd not over-rate a Courtely, Nor let the Coldness of Delay hang on it

To nip and blast its Favour, like a Froft;

But rather chofe, at this late Hour, to come.

That your fair Friend may know I have prevail'd;
The Lord Protector has receiv'd her Suit,

And means to fhew her Grace.

Alic. My Friend! my Lord!

L. Haft. Yes, Lady, yours: None has a Right more ample To task my Power than you.

J

Alic. I want the Words

To pay you back a Compliment fo courtly;

But my Heart gueffes at the friendly Meaning,
And wo'not die your Debtor.

L. Haft. 'Tis well, Madam.

But I wou'd fee your Friend..

Alic. Oh thou falfe Lord!

I wou'd be Miftrefs of my heaving Heart,

Stifle

Stifle this rifing Rage, and learn from thee

To drefs my Face in eafy, dull Indifference:

But two'not be, my Wrongs will tear their Way,
And rush at once upon thee.

L. Haft. Are you wife!

Have you the Ufe of Reafon? Do you wake?
What means this raving this tranfporting Paffion?
Alic. O thou cool Traitor! thou infulting Tyrant !
Doft thou behold my poor distracted Heart,

Thus rent with agonizing Love and Rage,

And ask me what it means? Art thou not falfe?
Am I not fcorn'd, forfaken and abandon'd,
Left like a common Wretch, to Shame and Infamy
Giv'n up to be the Sport of Villains Tongues,
Of laughing Parafites, and lewd Buffoons;
And all becaufe my Soul has doated on thee.

With Love, with Truth, and Tenderness unutterable?
L. Haft. Are thefe the Proofs of Tendernefs and Love?
Thefe endless Quarrels, Difcontents and Jealoufies,
Thefe never-ceafing Wailings and Complainings,

Thefe furious Starts, thefe Whirlwinds of the Soul,
Which every other Moment rife to Madness?

Alic. What Proof, alas! have I not given of Love?
What have I not abandon'd to thy Arms?
Have I not fet at nought my noble Birth,
A fpotlefs Fame, and an unblemith'd Race,
The Peace of Innocence, and Pride of Virtue?
My Prodigality has giv'n thee all,

And now I've nothing left me to beftow,

You hate the wretched Bankrupt you have made,
Haft. Why am I thus purfu'd from Place to Place,

Kept

Kept in the View, and crofs'd at every Turn?
In vain I fly, and like a hunted Deer,

Scud o'er the Lawns, and haften to the Covert
'Ere I can reach my Safety, you o'ertake me
With the swift Malice of fome keen Reproach,
And drive the winged Shaft deep in my Heart.

Alic. Hither you fly, and here you seek Repofe.
Spite of the poor Deceit, your Arts are known,
Your Pious, Charitable, Midnight Vifits.

L. Haft. If you are wife, and prize your Peace of Mind, Yet take the friendly Counfel of my Love;

Believe me true, nor liften to Jealoufy,

your

Let not that Devil, which undoes Sex,
That curfed Curiofity feduce you

To hunt for needlefs Secrets, which neglected,
Shal! never hurt your Quiet, but once known,

Shall fit upon your Heart, pinch it with Pain,
And banish the sweet Sleep for ever from you.
Go too- be yet advis'd--

Alic. Doft thou in Scorn

Preach Patience to my Rage? And bid me tamely

Sit like a poor contented Ideot down,

Nor dare to think thou'ft wrong'd me-----Ruin feize thee,
And fwift Perdition overtake thy Treachery!

Have I the leaft remaining Cause to doubt?

Haft thou endeavour'd once to hide thy Falfhood?
To hide it, might have fpoke fome little Tenderness,
And shewn thee half unwilling to undo me.

But thou difdain'ft the Weakness of Humanity,
Thy Words, and all thy Actions, have confefs'd it;
Ev'n now thy Eyes avow it, now they speak,

And

And infolently own the glorious Villany.

L Haft. Well then, I own my Heart has broke your Chains Patient I bore the painful Bondage long,

At length my generous Love difdains your Tyranny;
The Bitterness and Stings of taunting Jealoufy,
Vexatious Days, and jarring joyless Nights,

Have driv'n him forth to feek fome fafer Shelter,
Where he may reft his weary Wings in Peace.

Alic. You triumph! do! and with gigantick Pride,
Defy impending Vengeance. Heav'n fhall wink;
No more his Arm fhall roll the dreadful Thunder.
Nor fend his Lightnings forth. No more his Juftice
Shall vifit the prefuming Sons of Men,

But Perjury, like thine, fhall dwell in Safety.

L. Haft. Whate'er my Fate decrees for me hereafter, Be prefent to me now, my better Angel!

Preferve from the Storm that threatens now,

me

And if I have beyond Attonement finn'd,

Let any other kind of Plague o'ertake me,
So I efcape the Fury of that Tongue:

Alic. Thy Pray'r is heard-but know, proud Lord,
Howe'er thou fcorn'ft the Weakness of my Sex,
This feeble Hand may find a Means to reach thee,
Howe'er fublime in Pow'er, and Greatnefs plac'd,
With Royal Favour guarded round, and grac'd;'
On Eagles Wings, my Rage fhall urge her Flight,
And hurl thee Headlong from thy topmoft Height;
Then, like thy Fate, fuperior will I fit,
And view thee fall'n, and grovling at my Feet;
See thy last Breath with Indignation go,
And tread thee finking to the Shades below.

[Exit Alic

L. Haft