Agnes de Castro, A TRAGEDY.  
As it is Acted at the THEATRE ROYAL, By His Majesty's Servants.  
Written by a Young Lady  
LONDON: Printed for H. Rhodes in Fleetstreet, R. Parker at the Royal-Exchange, S. Briscoe, at the Corner of Charles-street, in Russel-street, Covent-Garden, 1696.  
* Advertisement. The Fatal Mistake; Or, the Plot Spoiled: A New Play; Written by Joseph Haines.   

CHARLES' Earl of DORSET and MIDDLESEX. Lord Chamberlain of His Majesty's Household, And Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, etc.  
MY LORD,  
THIS little Offspring of my early Muse was first Submitted to Your Lordship's Judgement, Whether it should be Stifled in the Birth, or Preserved to try its Fortune in the World; And since 'tis from Your Sentence it has ventured thus far, it now Claims a sort of Title to Your Lordship's Protection, which it could not have the least pretence to from its own Merit; But 'tis Your Lordship's Character to Encourage all great Attempts, though Unsuccessful: This was indeed a Bold one for a Woman at my Years, but I would not offer my little Experience, as a reason to be Pardoned for not acquitting myself well, (for I think the Incapacity of producing any thing better, a very ill Excuse for exposing a Foolish Thing) if the same inconsidering Youth might not excuse the rashness of the Undertaking; And I shall be much less Pardonable, if the next I bring upon the Stage has not a better Title to the Favour of the Town. This seems to promise another attempt, which should not be expected from one who Conceals her Name, to shun that of Poctress. I wish I could separate them here, for than I should be proud to own myself to the World, with all Respect,  
My Lord, Your Lordship's most Obliged, and most humble Servant.   

TO THE AUTHOR OF Agnes de Castro.  

ORinda, and the Fair Astrea gone,  
Not one was found to fill the Vacant Throne:  
Aspiring Man had quite regained the Sway,  
Again had Taught us humbly to Obey;  
Till you (Natures third start, in favour of our Kind)  
With stronger Arms, their Empire have disjoined,  
And snatched a Laurel which they thought their Prize,  
Thus conqueror, with your Wit, as with your Eyes.  
Fired by the bold Example, I would try  
To turn our Sexes weaker Destiny.  
O! How I long in the Poetic Race,  
To lose the Reins, and give their Glory Chase;  
For thus Encouraged, and thus led by you,  
Methinks we might more Crowns than theirs Subdue.   Dela Manley.  

Wycherly at the Author's request: Designed to be Spoke.  

LAdies and Gallants, you we hope to find,  
To her, who brings you now together, kind;  
That you, will to your pleasing her consent,  
Not out of your own Nicety prevent,  
But to spite her, your own divertisement;  
And will not your Displeasure to her show,  
Who your scorn Ventures, but to pleasure you,  
Nay, her own pleasure, does for yours, forego;  
And like the Pregnant of her Sex, to gain,  
But for your pleasure, more Disgrace, and Pain;  
Who, but because she'd do you, a good Turn,  
Unasked, unsued to, may become your scorn;  
But you, the Men of Honour, or of Wit,  
To set yours to a Woman can't think fit,  
And Ladies; as necessitous of Fame,  
Ne'er raise your Credit, by another's shame,  
Censuring others, to 'scape others blame;  
And Gallants; as you're Men of Honour, you,  
Will ne'er speak ill, of her you do not know;  
The more she strives, to give you Pleasure too;  
Which is most often, (as we Women find,)  
The sole cause, you prove to us, but less kind;  
As well-bred Beauxes with Noise too, ne'er think fit,  
To silence on the Stage, as in the Pit,  
Another's Sense, to hide your want of Wit;  
But Beauxes and Wits, I pray be silent now,  
And hear without Noise, nay with Patience too,  
Our Female Wit, if you'd have her, hear you;  
Especially, since your own talking does,  
Your Pleasure interrupt, your Sense Expose,  
Whilst Silence, good Sense, and good Breeding shows;  
And each Man's manners, Honour, Wit appear,  
More, as he's less a Woman's Censurer,  
Then Censures, which would spoil your sport forbear:  
Think not the Lady's Wit, or Honour less,  
Because she seeks those who have less to please;  
Let not her Aim, to please the Public now,  
Designed her Credit, but your Scandal grow,  
Make not her proffered favour, her Disgrace,  
Nay, though it should not please th'Intention praise,  
'Tis merit only, to desire to please;  
Then be not, as Poor Women often find,  
Less kind to her, but as she's more inclined,  
At venture of her Fame, to please Mankind.    

PROLOGUE Spoken by Mr. powel.  

HOW strangely times are Changed? I'th' latter Age  
Prologues were fresh Complaints of Critic Rage:  
But now, if one Play hits, you straight Decree  
To prop a Rival Muse's Halting Poetry:  
Could it but gain the Crutches of your Favour,  
This Tragedy might walk six days together.  
To day, t'incite your Charity the more,  
A Female Author does your Smiles implore;  
Not but I fear, 'tis now a thing uncommon,  
For Men of Wit to raise a falling Woman!  
Why should vain Man the Gift of Sense engross?  
Since Woman's Wit was never at a loss?  
Husbands to Wives their Whoring must Reveal,  
(For Unfed Passions will expect their Meal)  
But womens' Wits with Ease their Roving Love conceal.  
And Faith in spite of all the Hen-Peckt Fools can do,  
They've oft the Breeches worn, why not the Laurel too!  
Therefore to those of undisputed Sense,  
Our Poetess resigns her Plays Defence.  
Conscious of her Faults she flies to you,  
To save her from the Thoughtless Damning Crew.  
She's Dead, if Tried by strict Poetic Laws;  
But Men of Honour can't refuse a Woman's Cause.  
Do you, the props of Wit, but seem t'approve,  
She cannot fear their Thunder from above:  
The Top must stir if the Foundation move.    

EPILOGUE Spoke by Mrs. Verbruggen in men's clothes.  

KKnowing that Knaves and Fools are grown so plenty, (twenty,  
That Wise or Just are scarce found— for Rhyme sake, I'll allow'em one in  
That few the Merits of a Cause can weigh,  
And those who judge aright,  
By hate or favour Praise or Damn a Play,  
That much depends upon a Poet's fame,  
Ours a New Author and without a Name.  
It came into my Charitable mind,  
To try, if thus accoutered, I could find  
The way to make you, right or wrong, be kind.  
A white curled Wig, with all the dressing Arts,  
Must needs engage the Ladies tender Hearts;  
And for the Men  
Petticoats seem the properest bait no doubt;  
Yet you must own you like us best without;  
But if that Jest's too weak to catch your Grace,  
With a cocked Hat and a stern blustering Face,  
I'll try to Bully you into good Nature,  
And bid defiance to your Coward satire;  
That meanly would a Woman's strength oppose,  
Would I'd put on your Courage with your clothes.  
I fear these Breeches, Sword, and Manly show  
Every way promise more than I can do:  
I find my Female Heart begins to fail,  
And now could condescend (if 'twould prevail)  
To beg your Votes but what can that avail.  
After these brags 'twould make you but despise me,  
For your own Interest than let me advise ye.  
Doom not our Author's first Essay to fall,  
For fear, her Eyes revenge it on you all.  
For heark ye, among Friends— 'tis whispered here.  
Our Poetess is Virtuous, Young, and Fair;  
But that first Epithet I must leave out,  
'Twill please but very few of you, I doubt.  
Then let it pass; Yet sure not named in vain,  
For Virtue must that shining Circle gain;  
Her other Charms may captivate the rest,  
Each fancying her what form would please him best.  
But stay, I fear this airy bribe won't move,  
You are not made for dull Platonic Love.  
Well, we may hope in time she'll more disclose,  
That's if you like what here at first she shows.  
Applaud her then, for Curiosity,  
She only skulks to be from Censure free;  
Admire her strength of Judgement, praise her Wit,  
And crowd each Night the Boxes and the Pit:  
Puffed up with her success, she'll soon appear,  
And lay aside her Modesty and Fear,  
Which Women oft have parted with for you,  
But to dear Vanity they're always true.    

dramatis Personae.  

MEN.  King. 
Mr. Sympson.  Prince. 
Mr. powel.  Alvero. 
Mr. Verbruggen.  Lorenzo. 
Mr. Cibber.  Diego, Officer and Creature of Alvero. 
Mr. Hill.  Pedro, Officer and Creature of Alvero. 
Mr. Mills.   

WOMEN.  Princess. 
Mrs. Temple.  Agnes de Castro. 
Mrs. Rogers.  Elvira, Sister to Alvero. 
Mrs. Knight.  Bianca. 
Mrs. Kent.   
Messenger, Attendants, and Guards.  
SCENE, The Palace of Coimbra in Portugal.   

Agnes de Castro.  


ACT I. SCENE. I.  Enter Elvira, and Bianca with a Paper in her Hand. Elvira. 

THIS was a lucky accident, Bianca;  
It will be noble Mischief.   Bianca. 

I long to know the issue.   Elu. 

It must be good: That Poison Jealousy  
Destroys the strongest Bonds of Blood, or Friendship:  
Constantia cannot think the Prince loves Agnes,  
But she must hate, and treat her as a Rival;  
Or could she be so tame to keep her here,  
Distrust, and coldness, Rival-ship will breed,  
Which Agnes is too haughty to endure,  
And though not sent, will soon return to Spain.   Bianca. 

That will be pleasing news to all the Ladies,  
Who envy her the princess's Affection.   Elu. 

Was it not an Affront to all the Court,  
To bring her here as in defiance to us;  
As if she thought none of us worth her Love,  
Not one in Portugal for her Converse.   Bianca. 

Their being bred from Infancy together,  
Might make it difficult to separate;  
And than their near Relation.   Elu. 

A Princess, must have none;  
She came to wear the Crown of Portugal,  
And then, should have renounced all other Claims:  
She 'as now, new Friends, new Country, new Relations,  
And should forget the Old; not be a Spaniard here.   Bianca. 

These lines will make her wish she had forgot 'em.  
Methinks I pity her.   Elu. 

All that can contribute to Plague the Prince  
Is grateful to my Thoughts: I know his temper;  
The Princesses regrets will most torment him;  
And then to lose his Mistress; shall I see  
The faithless Traitor, who abandoned me,  
Punished in the same kind, Lose her he Loves:  
That, that's the pleasing part.   Bianca. 

Not all you e'er Contrived, or Wished to happen,  
Could more effectually have punished both:  
Fortune indeed has laid a brave Foundation,  
Whereon to Build, what Hate can make you aim at.   Elu. 

But I must raise the Structure, and I'll do't,  
With so much Care, with so much Artful Strength,  
Not all their force and cunning shall destroy it!  
Revenge is Justice, Born in Noble Souls;  
'Twas some mean Spirited Fool that first taught Patience,  
Weak Cowardice, that Preached up dull Forgiveness,  
And called the lazy Impotence, a Virtue.   Bianca. 

'Tis Vice to leave such Injuries unpunished;  
'Twould make all Men be Faithless as the Prince,  
If Women bore their Wrongs without return.   Elu. 

Ye Gods! Was I a Trifle to be played with,  
Fit but to entertain his leisure hours;  
But I've recalled the Heart he Fooled away;  
And now 'tis filled with Fury and Revenge,  
He'll find Elvira can do more, more, than amuse him.   Bianca. 

Madam, What method in this great design  
Will your just Anger take?   Elu. 

Bianca; I have found thee Faithful,  
And may have need of thee.   Bianca. 

Madam, Did not my Inclination tie me,  
Your Bounty has engaged me to your Service.   Elu. 

Be confident of what I can do for you;  
I know Antonio fain would Marry you,  
But that his Friends oppose it.  
I'll make your Fortune fit for such a Match,  
Which Love, or your Ambition, makes you Covet.   Bianca. 

Let your Commands be ne'er so hazardous,  
I will not fail t'Obey you.   Elu. 

I can't resolve on what I have to do,  
Till I shall know the princess's Resentments:  
She's wishing with impatience for your coming,  
Fond of discovering what she'll grieve to find;  
Be sure seem not to know what's in the Paper.   Bianca. 

By no means, Madam.   Elu. 

I'll to my Brother;  
And tell him of the Prince's Love to Agnes:  
I know his boundless Rage and Jealousy  
Will soon inspire him with some Resolution,  
That must be fatal to the Prince, or Agnes;  
For bating his fond Passion to that Maid,  
His every Thought bespeaks him of my Blood.   Bianca. 

His Favour with the King may be of use,  
The Kingdom's ruled by Don Alvaro's Will.   Elu. 

His Power indeed is almost absolute,  
And if he be my Brother, he'll improve it;  
But I delay;  
I'll strike with Fortune whilst she's in the Humour;  
She shall not have the time to change her Mind,  
Follow her close, and she'll be always kind;  
Too proud to wait, sh' as ever shunned the Wise,  
They pause so long, that to the thoughtless Fools she flies.   (Ex. severally.  

SCENE II.  The Princess's Apartment; The Princess sitting in a Melancholy posture, Agnes entering to her. Princess. 

My Agnes! Art thou come! My Souls best Comfort,  
Thou dear Relief to my oppressing Cares:  
My Griefs have lost already half their force,  
They vanish at thy sight, like Mists, before the Sun.   Agnes. 

What Mists, what Clouds are these, o'espread your Soul?  
Which do like those that would obscure the Sun,  
Whilst they but seem to darken the bright Mind,  
Cast a sad Gloom on all the World beneath.  
In pity, Madam, then Shine out to cheer us,  
For all must be unhappy, whilst you Grieve.   Princess. 

Ah! Agnes, ah! The! This day the Prince—   Agnes. 

Must leave you: Is that your cause of Sadness?  
He'll soon return with Glory and Success.  
I saw you, Madam, in the heat of Love,  
When you had scarcely lost the name of Bride,  
The Prince called from you by an eager Foe,  
Trained up in War, resolved for Death, or Conquest,  
I saw you part from him with less Despair,  
Far less afflicted than I see you now.   Princess. 

My Secrets all are thine: Forgive me Agnes  
That I have hitherto kept this concealed,  
And let it prey upon my Bleeding Heart  
Till it is e'en devoured; but take it now.  
I fear the Prince,  
Whom better than my Life thou know'st I love,  
(Be witness Heaven I would to make him blessed,  
Resign my part in all I hold most dear,  
Nay, even himself, if I were sure he wished it)  
Oh Friend! This Husband, gives me not his Heart,  
And much I fear, some other robs me of it.   Agnes. 

Causeless Suspicions; can the Prince alone,  
Neglect that Virtue which Mankind adores?  
Who else can claim the Empire of his Heart?  
More by their Merit, than their Marriage yours;  
For who in Portugal deserves like you?  
Banish these Fears, they may prove Fatal to you,  
Light Jealousies, like Prune to a Plant,  
The tender wound improves, and helps loves growth;  
But if they enter deep, the Branches fade,  
And the rich stock decays, and dies at last.   Princess. 

Alas! In vain I gave myself advice,  
Strove to excuse the Coldness of his Heart,  
Which through his forced caresses still appeared  
His Melancholy all the Court observes,  
Though only I can guests th'unhappy cause;  
At Night I watch him when he thinks I sleep;  
He Tosses, Sighs, impatient for the Day,  
And often leaves me, e'ere it does approach.   Agnes. 

Th'Effect of temper, Madam; but for Love,  
He seems designed a Pattern to the World,  
The Virgins at Coimbra beg of Fate,  
To give them Husbands like the Prince to you;  
So fond, so careful, with such nice respect.   Princess. 

Were he my Slave he could not give me more;  
A Lover, Agnes, could not show so much.   Agnes. 

I thought respect the highest mark of Love.  
'Tis all that Heaven requires, what would you more?   Princess. 

Alas! Thy thoughts of Love are as imperfect,  
As their Idea of vast distant Lands,  
Who never saw 'em, but in Maps and Pictures;  
What shall I say to make thee understand?  
Love levels all, he knows no Quality,  
No Titles, but those soft ones which he makes;  
Th'Insensible my Husband, never felt  
A transport of Fierce Love, that could one Moment  
Make him forget, his Wife was born a Princess.   Agnes. 

How exquisite a Torturer you are grown,  
You rack your Wit for torments to your Soul.   Princess. 

These are the Natural thoughts of Love, my Child;  
But I'm impatient, Bianca stays;  
The Prince this Night seemed sad, and discomposed  
Much more than usual; he started up,  
And with confusion in his Words and Action,  
He left me, and refused to be attended;  
A strange, disturbed, I know not what within.  
Moved me to send Bianca to observe him,  
Two hours ago, and yet she's not returned.   Agnes. 

What can you hope from such an Enquiry?  
Why should you search, for that which if you find,  
Ascertains Miseries, you now but fear?   Princess. 

Then I shall mourn for one, but whilst I doubt,  
I feel a thousand Pains for every ill,  
That's barely possible to be the Cause.   Agnes. 

Compose yourself, Madam, I beg your Highness,   Princess. 

That was a Word of too much distance, Agnes,  
Looks like the Prince's cold indifference,  
In Ceremonious respect disguised;  
Leave it, I would believe I have thy Heart,  
The only comfort for the loss of his;  
For you are both so equal dear to me,  
So closely wove by Fate to my fond breast,  
That neither can be severed from my love,  
Without unravelling this Web of Life. Enter Bianca.  
What News Bianca? Speak, where went the Prince?  
Where has thou left him?   Bianca. 

In the Garden, Madam;  
Thither I followed him far off, unseen;  
He stopped sometimes, and walked disorderly,  
Till he had reached the foot o'th' middle walk,  
Where entering one of the cool shady Grots,  
He sat him down, and seemed overwhelmed in thought;  
Then through the Boughs, I could discern him write,  
And folding up the Paper when he'd done,  
He threw himself with force upon the Ground,  
Sighing, and Groaning, words I could not hear,  
Till seeming tired with Grief, he fell asleep.  
When I had watched a while, with cautious steps  
I went, (in hopes to serve your Highness well)  
And stole the Paper which the Prince had writ;  
Perhaps it may contain what you would know,  
For fearing that, I durst not open it,  
Lest I discovered what you would conceal.   [Gives the Paper. Princess. 

I thank thee for thy care; leave us Bianca. [Exit Bi. After reading.]  
Doubly unhappy Princess!  
Agnes, my Fears are true! All that I feared,  
More than I feared, is true.   Agnes. 

It can't be, the Prince is not so stupid,  
To Love Elvira still; I heard indeed  
He had a while amused himself with her  
Before your Marriage: but what Charms has she  
To vie with those perfections all Divine,  
Which grace your Body, and adorn your Soul?   Princess. 

Ah! She who robs me of my Husband's Heart,  
Is all a Charm, to plead for his Excuse;  
Young, Beautiful, Discreet, and chaste, as Fair;  
By Nature formed to captive every Heart,  
My Reason must approve the Prince's choice,  
For I myself, prefer her to myself,  
And love her too, as tenderly as he.   Agnes. 

Who can this Angel be?   Princess. 

Are there are so many merit more than I,  
Thou canst not guests among 'em?   Agnes. 

Indeed I know not one deserves like you;  
And therefore cannot guests.   Princess. 

Have you so long been privy to my Thoughts.  
Yet know not her who is so dear to me?  
Who with the Prince, shares my divided Heart  
So equally, I cannot tell myself  
To which I have given most; know you not her?  
For if you know my Friend, you know my Rival.   Agnes. 

How very Miserable must I be  
When I'm reduced to wish, you did not love me!  
Those marks, of that peculiar, dear affection,  
Which every day your partial kindness gave,  
Are Witnesses which I would disbelieve;  
Oh! Let me think your Friendship was divided,  
Tell me you have another, nearer Friend,  
For I had rather lose your Love for ever,  
Than be the wretched Cause of your misfortune;  
Rather be hated by you, than deserve it;  
Oh ease my cruel fears, and name some other.   Princess. 

Too sure, alas, the Prince does Love thee, Agnes;  
And I'm so vain to think that only thou,  
Could gain a Heart, to which I laid a claim.  
Read from his Hand, the sad, amazing truth.   Agnes reads.] 

1.  
IN Vain, Oh Sacred Duty you oppose,  
In Vain your Nuptial tie you plead,  
Those forced devoirs Love overthrows,  
And breaks the Vows he never made.   

2.  
Fair Princess, you to whom my Faith is due,  
Pardon the Destiny that drags me on,  
'Tis not my fault my Hearts untrue,  
I am compelled to be undone.   

3.  
Your Eyes, Fair Agnes—   Agnes. 

Heaven strike 'em blind, for the base treachery;  
Where shall I hide these cursed, these guilty Eyes?  
They dare not look upon the Injured Princess,  
Tho she was all they took delight to see;  
How could Heaven make so great a contradiction,  
As in one Person, Friend, and Enemy!   Princess. 

Thou art not my Enemy; I know you love me.   Agnes. 

Yet I have robbed you of your dearest part,  
Destroyed your soft tranquillity of Soul,  
And left you nothing but Despair and Sorrow;  
I only have done this, even I who love you;  
I who to serve you would abandon Life;  
Oh! Can I say I am the curse of yours!  
But all ill fortune flies from you with me;  
And all the Curse lights heavy on my head,  
For we must part, for Ever, Ever part.   Princess. 

Part! Would you add to my unhappiness?  
Be yet more cruel than my Destiny?  
Fate has deprived me but of half my blessing;  
And you would tear the other half away,  
To leave me Sad, Desolate, and Comfortless.   Agnes. 

Alas! We ne'er shall meet in joy again,  
This tender Love must all be turned to Hate.   Princess. 

That thought was too injurious from a Friend:  
Thy only guilt is having too much merit,  
For which 'twere most nnjustly base to hate thee.   Agnes. 

Yet sure, I'm now unworthy of thy Love.  
But teach me how I may again deserve it;  
What can be done to cure the Prince's Frenzy?  
I'll blot out all that's lovely in this Face,  
Disfigure it to black deformity,  
Enough to frighten all Mankind to madness,  
And bring him back to reason.   Princess. 

This wild Extravagance is unbecoming;  
Let's learn to bear our Woes, and leave to Heaven  
The time and manner of redressing 'em!  
Despair may Cure the Prince— but it may kill him;  
Oh! Thy too rigorous Virtue makes me fear.  
But think, with him you will condemn your Friend,  
And mingle sweetness with severity;  
Pity his Fate, that Honour will allow,  
And I shall bless thy generous Charity.   Agnes. 

Oh, wondrous instance of a matchless goodness!  
Gods! Is it just the Prince enjoy this Blessing,  
Who knows not how to value the vast Treasure.   Princess. 

You are ungrateful to condemn the Prince,  
And I, for all I suffer, can't accuse him!  
I know he struggled long against your Charms,  
And those efforts are more obliging far,  
Than if his Inclinations were for me.  
Love ruled by Fate, does ne'er consult our will,  
But if we strive to love, it shows Esteem;  
And 'tis more kind to wish I had his Heart,  
Than if he gave the prize unwillingly.  
Why should I blame the Prince for loving her?  
Were Reason, Duty, Honour, all against me,  
I still should dote on him, in spite of all:  
The same strong Destiny controls his Heart,  
And my fair Rival's worth, bounds my Complaints:  
There is no room for my Resentment left,  
Nor shall the Prince perceive my inward Grief,  
You, only you, shall ease the Wounds you made,  
For thou wilt pity me, I know thou wilt,  
Thou Dear, thou less my Rival, than my Friend.   (En. Prince. Agnes. 

Alas, he's here!   Prince. 

What new design has Fate to carry on?  
Th'unlucky Writing in Constantia's Hand!  
Nay then it has its utmost malice shown.   Agnes. 

Unhappy chance! He sees I know his love,  
I cannot look on him without Confusion,  
Oh! That I'd ever shunned his Eyes as now.   (Exit. Agnes. Prince. 

Madam, from whence had you that fatal Scroll?   Princess. 

Be not disturbed, and I'll forget I saw it.   Prince. 

Oh no! You never must forget my Crime,  
Rail at me, Curse me, Hate me if thou canst,  
That thou may'st less deserve to be Beloved,  
And I be less ashamed of wronging thee.   Princess. 

It is not you, but cruel Fate has wronged me,  
And wronged me most by making you unhappy;  
That doubles all the Sorrows of my Soul,  
When in the tender ragings of my Heart,  
Torn with the Agonies of hopeless Love,  
I shall remember, you are wretched too;  
You wish in Vain, Sigh, and Despair, like me;  
Thus guessing all your Torments by my own,  
I shall more than feel 'em o'er again for you.   Prince. 

Oh! This short view of what I make thee suffer,  
Is worse to me than all I've known before:  
How canst thou pity this ungrateful Husband?   Princess. 

That kind Concern, shows you are not Ungrateful;  
And 'twere inhuman not to pity you,  
When all Relief but pity is denied.  
Poor Prince, if you had loved a Maid less nice,  
Her kindness might have satisfied your Passion,  
Or want of Merit quite extinguished it;  
It grieves me you should fix your Heart on one,  
Too scrupulous to recompense your flame;  
I dread th' effects of her Severity,  
Which may instead of Curing, more engage you,  
Charmed with that rigorous Virtue that undoes you.   Prince. 

How then should thy diviner Virtue charm me!  
Virtue of such an elevated Nature,  
It claims not Love alone, but Adoration,  
Greater than that we owe to Saints above,  
And that, I swear I pay thee.   Princess. 

Unhappily you have misplaced your Thoughts;  
Fair Agnes more deserves your Adoration;  
And I may say, I more deserve your Love;  
For, Oh Dear Prince! there's not a part of me,  
That is not filled with softest Love for thee,  
My Soul's all thine, I languish for thy Love,  
Dote on, in spite of thy Indifference;  
Live by thy Looks, am nothing when thou'rt from me,  
Wretched to think thou canst not be all mine,  
And Oh! Could part with all I e'er possessed,  
To gain thy dearer Heart.   Prince. 

Oh! If thou lov'st me, hide this tenderness,  
I better could support the sharpest Anger;  
Call all thy Injuries into thy thoughts,  
Think me Ungrateful, Perjured, any thing,  
That may provoke the Cruelest Reproaches;  
Show your resentment in the fiercest Form;  
Revenge your Wrongs, but upon me alone;  
This only Criminal, unhappy Wretch,  
And share the guiltless Cause of our Misfortune.   Princess. 

Fear not for Agnes, Sir,  
I love her, and her being dear to you,  
More strongly recommends her to my care;  
For my repose depends so much on yours,  
I must lose all my own, to rob you of it.   Prince. 

Too Generous Princess! But in spite of you,  
You have revenged yourself with sharpest wounds,  
Deep in that Faithless Breast which injured you.  
This cruel kindness, has undone your Husband,  
Thou miracle of Virtue.   Princess. 

Alas my Love, what shall I say to ease you?   Prince. 

Kill me, Constantia, I deserve it of thee;  
But that would be too kind;  
'Twould save me all the many Deaths of shame,  
Which every thought of thee will make me feel;  
Forgive me then, to punish me yet more,  
For now I hate myself for grieving thee,  
And would be still, still more Unhappy made.  
Alas! I dare not meet thy loving Eyes,  
They tell me that thou hast forgiven me;  
Fly wretch; Oh fly! from all that looks like good,  
Even silent Innocence, is thy reproach.   Princess. 

His Sorrows touch me more than all my own;  
He seems as if his Soul were on the Rack,  
And that Immortal part could to be free,  
Wish itself Mortal like its lovely Mansion.  
Perhaps my presence discomposes him,  
I will retire, and Heaven with tears implore,  
Though by my Death, his quiet to restore.   [Exit. Prince solus. 

Is there another wretch on Earth like me,  
Who what was meant for Ease and Blessings to him,  
Perverts into a Curse?  
When I had locked the Secret in my Breast,  
Kept it concealed even from my dearest Friend,  
Denied myself all ways to vent my Grief,  
But pouring out my Woes in soft Complaints,  
They, must be made th'occasion of my ruin;  
And by I know not what, some Devil sure,  
Conveyed to her from whom I most would hide 'em.  
The Virtue of my Wife too proves my Curse,  
And I'm constrained to wish for my relief,  
What others shun, as the worst plague of Life.  
O Agnes! O Constantia! both distract me!  
O the sad Prospect of increasing woes,  
Which only Death can put a period to!  
I love, and would not, ought not to be pitied;  
Or if I were,  
Still my Ingratitude, my poor Constantia's Sufferings,  
Would haunt me, to enervate all my joys.  
Unhappy Lover— more Ingrateful Husband;  
What dost thou wish? What can be thy relief?  
No, think of none, none, but in suffering more;  
T'atone thy Crime, be exquisitely wretched;  
Thus Agnes may revenge Constantia's wrongs;  
Raise thy wild Passion to that force and height,  
That it may crush thee, with its Fatal weight   Exit.   


ACT II. SCENE. I.  Enter the King, Alvero, and Attendants. King. 

IF I have Power, or if she have Ambition,  
(Which is a part Essential in a Woman,  
As Power to a King) Alvero she is thine.   Alvero. 

I fear she has too much Ambition Sir,  
The Prince's Love too may increase that flame;  
She treats me as she were some mighty Queen,  
And I her meanest, despicable Slave.   King. 

The better,  
Her Pride will sooner draw her to the Hook,  
Which I will hang with such a glittering Bait,  
She can no more resist the gay Temptation,  
Than Streams can stop, or turn their wonted Current.  
Pride, is the Sex's principle of action;  
From the same Cause flow contrary effects,  
As the Sun's heat both hardens and dissolves;  
'Tis that which makes 'em coily fly with scorn,  
And that too makes 'em yield, to bright allurements;  
By it, Disdainful Agnes shall be caught;  
I'll heap such shining honours on thy head,  
Shall dazzle all the llttle World below;  
Th'aspiring Maid shall strive to reach thy Glories,  
And aiming throws her gently in thy Arms.   Alvero. 

My Royal Master, how shall I deserve—  
But 'tis a Crime, a Blasphemy, to think  
To Merit, or return, a Monarch's Favours,  
Which can no more than Heavens be repaid,  
And are like those, bestowed on Mortals, gratis;  
All we can give in sign of grateful Hearts,  
Is Thanks and Blessings. Which thus low I pay.   [Bowing. King. 

Thou art my Faithfullest, best Counsellor;  
Statesmen like thee, are Bucklers to a Crown,  
Which more than Armies guard it from a Foe,  
And when we cast 'em off, or not reward 'em,  
Their ruin is a sure Presage of ours.  
Thou hast deserved  
All that I have given, and all that I can give.   Alvero. 

Pardon, Great Sir, you much o'er-rate Actions.   King. 

Thou art too modest, but I know thy worth.  
'Tis strange, I have not seen my Son this Morning,  
I have some Orders for him e'er he goes,  
But he perhaps will own no Duty now,  
And but begins, th'injustice with his Wife.   Alvero. 

Sir, I'm informed, that since the Prince returned,  
And found the Princess, grieving for his Love,  
He has not left her.   King. 

We'll meet him there; and if we find your Mistress,  
I'll be your Advocate before his Face.   Alvero. 

So the Almighty whilst the World's his care,  
Neglects not, th'inconsiderablest Insect.   Exeunt. The Scene Opens. The Prince and Princess sitting; Agnes, Elvira, Bianca by them; the King and Alvero enter to them. King to the Prince. 

Since you keep State to day, I wait on you,  
It well becomes me to attend your Highness.   Princess. 

Sir, you must pardon, for my sake, the Prince,  
This short neglect, a Father may allow,  
To the sad tenderness, of parting Lovers.   King. 

'Tis well he is so kind. Your time is short, [The King and Ag. advance from the rest, the Pr. and Prs. seem to talk.  
We will not interrupt your soft Farewells.  
Agnes, a Word; I have a suit to move,  
Which if you grant, you will oblige a King,  
And raise yourself beyond your highest wish.   Agnes. 

A King's request, is but a Milder name  
For his command, I will obey you Sir.   King. 

If you are just to high desert, you will;  
Alvaro's Merit claims reward from you:  
We know you are a Heaven of Glorious charms,  
Bright as the Stars above, which Guide our actions:  
And Hearts like his, all Brave, all Just, and Great,  
Deserves the kindest Influence of those Eyes.   Agnes. 

My Eyes pretend not, Sir, to any power,  
But if Alvero is of such high worth,  
'Twere more than Arrogance, a Treason in 'em,  
Encroaching on your great Prerogative,  
To think of paying with so mean a stock,  
What you alone are able to reward;  
Such Subjects, must by such a King be paid.   King. 

Such Lovers, must be paid by such a Mistress;  
You only can return the Heart he gives,  
He offers it, filled with the tenderest Love,  
And I'll adorn it with the Richest Honours;  
Think Agnes, think; Alvero has my Favour,  
Think, that with it, he has my Power too;  
Think yourself raised the Envy of your Sex,  
All may be yours, Ambitious Souls desire.   Agnes. 

Who would resign a Quiet, though Poor, freedom,  
To be with glittering, gaudy trappings decked;  
Which but inform the World, whose Slaves they are.  
No, Sir, I value Liberty far more,  
Than to forsake it, though for Golden Chains,  
A shining Prison, is a Prison still.   King. 

By this Contempt, proud Maid, of him I've chose,  
From all my Court, to place my Friendship on,  
You more despise my Favourite, than Alvero;  
And seem to tax me, of an ill made choice.   Agnes. 

I question not Alvaro's merit, Sir,  
Nor have contemned him, though I have refused;  
But Heaven, who ordained soft Mutual Love,  
A stronger tie of Souls than Marriage Vows,  
Had surely given me a Heart more tender,  
If 'twere designed for such an Union;  
I feel no melting, no soft Passion there;  
None but for charming Liberty, and Glory,  
Then Sir, would you control the Will of Heaven;  
Who made me not for Love?   King. 

Dissembler, were you free as you pretend,  
You would have met what I proposed, with joy,  
But you have dreamt away your Liberty,  
In vain Ideas, and Fantastic Notions;  
Mistaken Maid, renounce these airy hopes,  
Whilst you pursue the shadow thus of Greatness,  
You'll lose the Substance, and repent too late.  
The Prince would please; but he's beyond your reach;  
And though my Son were not already joined  
To one whose worth, and tender love to you,  
Should make you blush for your Imprudent Conquest,  
Know, Agnes, know, he never should be yours.   Agnes. 

Sir, for the Prince, if he have weaknesses,  
He ne'er communicated 'em to me,  
Nor have I wilfully contributed,  
Or once in thought approved, th'unlucky Flame.   King. 

Marrying Alvero, is an easy way,  
To cure the Prince, and justify yourself.   Agnes. 

Perhaps I know an easier way for both,  
Absence will be a surer remedy,  
And that too will preserve my Honour safe;  
Yes, Sir, I'll quit Coimbra soon with joy,  
Nor shall this Man who is so dear to you,  
This Favourite, so worthy of your Love,  
Have any part in my more Noble thoughts.   King. 

So, haughty Agnes! sure you know me not.   Agnes. 

I know you, Sir, to be Constantia's Father,  
A Princess, whom I love with all respect.   King. 

And you shall know me, as I am a King;  
I'll find a way, t'abate this Insolence. [Goes from her.  
Don Pedro, you must hasten your departure,  
Follow me to the Gallery, we'll talk a while.   Prince. 

I attend you, Sir.  
Madam, I'll see you in the Palace-Garden.   [Exit K. Prince, Al. Agnes. 

What fatal Planet governed at my Birth?  
Which now begins its baleful Influence,  
With Cruelties so great, they rather seem  
The last Effect of torturing Tyranny,  
The Finishment of a long studied Curse.   Princess. 

You amaze me!   Agnes. 

Can there be Misery more complete than mine,  
Forced by my Stars for ever from your Highness,  
In whom I'd centred all my happiness:  
The wild effects of this unhappy Face,  
Drives me to search for some obscure retreat,  
Where it may never more create such Plagues,  
Fatal to you, to me, and Innocence.   Princess. 

Can you resolve to leave me then? Alas!  
Thy absence will be far more fatal here,  
Instead of rendering me my Husband's Heart,  
Would he not hate me as the Cause of it?  
Would he not fly to you wherever you were?  
And would it not be Savage Cruelty,  
To rob a Lover so Unfortunate,  
Of all the poor relief is left, his Love?   Agnes. 

My Honour, Madam, is not here secure;  
The King already does believe me guilty.   Princess. 

I know thee, Agnes, and shall ne'er accuse thee,  
For my sake bear the rest.   Agnes. 

What is it for your sake I would not bear!  
Witness th'all-seeing Powers that know my Heart,  
If by my Marriage I could give you back,  
That love which barbarous Fate has robbed you of:  
Though Don Alvaro's horror to my Eyes,  
Though my Soul loathes him by Antipathy,  
I'd break through those strong Bars which Nature's fixed,  
And Sacrifice my own, for your repose.  
But that alas, could never cure the Prince,  
Still he would look on me with Criminal Eyes,  
And I am accessary whilst I stay.   Princess. 

The Crime's to me: I can absolve thy guilt.  
Dear, Agnes, if thou'st ever loved thy Friend,  
Give not the Prince this Subject of Despair,  
My Life is tied to his, his Grief is mine.   Agnes! 

You are the sole Disposer of my Actions;  
But, Madam, think, weigh well e'er you Command,  
What dangerous mischiefs, may attend my stay.   Princess. 

None that can equal that of losing thee,  
Compared to it, all Ills are but a Name.   Agnes. 

Governed by you, I will believe all safe,  
Tho' my sad Soul some dreadful thing forebodes;  
What may not Don Alvero undertake?  
Encouraged by the King, whom I've incensed;  
He's Base, as Great, and all is to be feared,  
From one, whom want of Power alone restrains,  
In what the most irregular desire:   Princess. 

Be satisfied, whilst I am thy Protectress.  
The Prince by this time may be in the Garden,  
He is to pass that way. Instruct me as we go  
In all that passed betwixt the King and you,  
From thence I'll take my measures,   [Exit Princess, and Agnes. Elvira. 

How stupidly she hugs the Poisonous Serpent!  
She must be sharply stung before she'll wake;  
Sure, if she thought her Rival did betray her,  
She'd shake her off, for all this foolish fondness.   Bianca. 

The difficulty is t'inspire that thought,  
The Princess is possessed with a belief  
Of Agnes' Virtue, which her last request  
Of leaving her, must needs have much confirmed.   Elvira. 

But what if I should play the Anti-Bee,  
And from this Nice Romantic Honour draw,  
A Poison, to destroy her good Opinion?   Bianca. 

That were a Masterpiece of Art indeed.   Elvira. 

'Tis the peculiar cunning of our Sex,  
To make Good, Ill, and Ill for Good appear;  
And things which seem directly contrary,  
We turn, and use to compass our designs.  
I'll write a Note as from the Prince to Agnes,  
It shall express a free converse with her,  
And joy for having overcome her Scruples,  
Then beg her to obtain his Wife's consent,  
On the pretence of shunning him, to leave Coimbra,  
That he may see her with more easy freedom,  
Than watchful Eyes, would e'er permit him here.  
This you shall take an Opportunity,  
(Be sure it be the first) to give the Princess;  
Tell her you saw it drop from Agnes' Pocket,  
And watch her every motion when she reads;  
I'll instantly about the mighty work,  
Such Joys I find in other's Misery,  
If all were Damned, Hell would be Heaven to me.   [Ex. the Scene shuts. Enter as in a Gallery the King, Prince, Alvero, and Attendants. Prince. 

Were the Audacious Rebels boasted Power,  
Increased by twice the number which they bring,  
And every single Foe of Giant's strength,  
I would not doubt success in such a Cause;  
Conscience does half our Work. A wild dismay,  
Disables every Paricidial Arm.   King. 

Thy well-proved Va'our gives me surer hopes,  
Which in thy softer Youth was bravely tried,  
Against the powerful, fierce Alboacen;  
I saw my Son do feats beyond his Age,  
Whilst every stroke the Soldiers rung his name,  
He seemed to fire their Courage, raise their hopes,  
And bring the Foe inevitable Death.   Prince. 

They have not, Sir, forgot what you performed,  
You taught us all the way to Victory.   King. 

I think they never saw me fly from danger;  
Go, as my Gen'ral, quell this rash Rebellion,  
But Prince, subdue yourself, and be my Son.   Prince. 

If I do aught unworthy of that Name,  
May I become the Vilest Peasant's scorn.   King. 

Spoke from the Heart, I dare believe my Son;  
Go, and return a double Conqueror.   Prince. 

Commanded thus, I dare all opposition.  
To morrow's dawn, full Victory shall bring;  
For Virtue, for my Father, and my King.   Exit Prince. King. 

Am I a King, Alvero?   Alvero. 

Great Monarch—   King. 

By Heaven your scornful Mistress, braves my Power,  
Disdains my Favourite, slights my Noblest Gifts,  
I bear it all, and yet I am a King.   Alvero. 

No Monarch's Powers so vast, as Woman's Empire,  
The Conquerors of the World, submit to them.   King. 

'Tis but a Voluntary Condescension,  
They have no right to govern in themselves,  
And yet ungenerously the Tyrant's use,  
That Power to our Destruction, which we give.   Alvero. 

Something they have beyond what we have given,  
A strange ascendant, unaccountable,  
From Nature, or by Witchcraft over Men;  
I called my Pride, and Reason to my aid,  
So armed, methought I could defy her Charms,  
Yet spite of both, I trembled when she frowned:  
Gods! Though I hate her, must I still obey!   King. 

'Tis in your choice, t'obey, or be obeyed;  
What she denies your Prayers, by Force obtain.  
Don Pedro's absence favours the Design,  
And when she's in your power, you've nought to fear;  
He'll lose his hopes by seeing her your Wife,  
She'll make a Virtue of Necessity, and dutifully, seem, at least to love.  
I need not sure instruct a Lover more   Alvero. 

Divinity on Earth, how graciously  
You order all things, to your Creature's wish.  
But first I'll see, this Coy, this haughty Fair,  
Though Pride before made her disdain to yield  
More reasonable Pride, on second Thoughts,  
May show her all the Bounty of a King,  
In most magnificent, prevailing Pomp.   King. 

This Moment, she, and Portugal shall know,  
That but in Name, I will be more than thee;  
Th'Effect may move her more than Promises.   Alvero. 

I cannot throughly wish she may consent,  
Revenge would then remain unsatisfied;  
I love, and hate her, both with Violence,  
And both the Passions equally would please,  
T'enjoy her were for Love a happy Fate,  
But 'tis the Rape, would satisfy my Hate.   [Exeunt. 
The End of the Second Act.    


ACT III. SCENE I.  Elvira solus. 

THE Lot is cast, for Agnes, or Elvira,  
If my good Genius watch not for me now,  
Let it forever sleep, in dull Neglect;  
My All depends on this important Project,  
Cursed if it fail, how blessed if it succeed!  
To see her Banished from Constantia's Heart,  
The Prince's Presence, and my Brother's reach;  
Fate sure will grudge so vast a sum of Joy,  
Afraid to lose the dearest part of Power,  
And see me Happy, past a change to woe.   Enter Alvero with a Train of Courtiers. 

Brother, I must congratulate your Fortune,  
This Days new Acquisitions to your Greatness,  
The Royal Tokens of our Monarch's Favour,  
Spreads through the Court, an universal Joy;  
Your Friends are proud, to see you raised so High,  
And Envy pleased, that you can rise no Higher:  
You'll give me leave to bear a Sister's part.   Alvero. 

I have intended you a greater Share;  
These Honours are our Instruments of Vengeance;  
I never can forget your Injuries,  
For which I've long born Hatred to the Prince.  
The World remembers still those warm Addresses,  
Which raised the Malice of the Envious Fair,  
And made you lift your Hopes to Royalty,  
Now turned to worse than Hate, a cold Neglect;  
What can they think, but that he whored my Sister?   Elvira. 

And what of us, to bear the Infamy,  
The shame of Scoffs, forsaken Maids receive?   Alvero. 

I wait but for Opportunity,  
To take a lasting, deep, and full Revenge;  
His Love presents us with the wished Occasion;  
By that, by Agnes, we must punish him.   Elvira. 

There spoke a God; that Thought was more than Human:  
Oh! my dear Brother, there you hit the Point;  
I hate her more, yet more, than I hate him,  
Not for his Love alone, but for Constantia's;  
With mine you will redress the Kingdom's Grievance:  
We're all alike neglected for this Stranger,  
The Princess thinks her Thoughts, sees with her Eyes,  
She governs even her Smiles, her smallest Favours;  
The Spanish Fugitive, is Sovereign here.   Alvero. 

Fear not, she shall be soon but what I will;  
Some Ceremonies past, I'll visit her,  
And if my Glories has not moved her Heart,  
By Heaven, this Day, I'll force her to the Hymen.   Elvira. 

The Hymen! that's indeed a brave Revenge!  
Revenge upon ourselves.  
To make her equal Partner in those Glories,  
To place her in a Rank above your Sister,  
And nearer to the Prince, is that Revenge?   Alvero. 

You take the Prospect wrong; turn off your Eyes,  
From your unjust Aversion to Agnesia,  
And fix 'em on the Wrongs the Prince has done us.  
You see not how we shall torment his Soul,  
By this New Obstacle to his Desires.   Elvira. 

I see not the New Obstacle indeed,  
None in her Husband, more than in his Wife;  
Nor do you see, what now Constantia knows,  
And all the Court will know, to your Reproach;  
She loves the Prince, she entertains his Love,  
The secret Correspondence is discovered:  
And you—   Alvero. 

Oh then we're sure to be revenged of both.   Elvira. 

Your Passion makes all seem to its Advantage;  
But well I know, what e'er our Sex pretend,  
A Rape is less injurious in their Thoughts,  
Than Slights from one who once was called their Subject.  
Ten newly-vanquished Slaves won't countervail one Captive lost.  
That shows it possible to break their Chains,  
Which Woman's Pride can't bear to have believed.  
None take by Violence, but what they value;  
Forsaking her, proclaims a Disesteem,  
And that offends the Woman's Spirit most:  
Trust me, for by experience I may speak.   Alvero. 

Ay Sister, but you loved the Slave you lost.   Elvira. 

Then learn of one who loved as well as you,  
To scorn, where you are scorned.   Alvero. 

You scorn, because that's all you have in Power:  
Could you enjoy by Force the Man you loved,  
You'd think that best Revenge.   Elvira. 

Dote on then, let her triumph o'er your Weakness,  
Prevent her being banished by the Princess,  
And fix her here to satiate her love,  
Where the pleased Lovers every Day may meet,  
And glance their Amorous Wishes to each other,  
Their Souls enjoy in public, through their Eyes,  
And in some stolen Hours (which Love will find  
For all the care of watchful Jealousy)  
We may be made the Subject of their Mirth.  
When she has told her Arts to cheat the Husband,  
He'll tell her, of the Sisters foolish Passion,  
How credulous she was, and how deceived.  
You think that best Revenge.   Alvero. 

By all the powers of Hell,  
I'll rather stab 'em both than suffer it.   Elvira. 

Think better of their Prudence, than t'imagine  
They'll give you any subject for Suspicion;  
No, you must like the rest of injured Husbands,  
Alone be ignorant of your own Shame,  
Whilst the least Curious, the most unconcerned,  
May point you out a Cloak to their Amours.   Alvero. 

Think better of my Prudence, than t'imagine.  
I'll give 'em the least Opportunity.  
Trust me, to guard her strictly, when she's mine.   [Exit. Alvero. Elvira. 

Trust me, to hinder her from being thine.  
Alvaro's Wife!  
Fortune can't favour her Ambition more;  
And what could love do more to serve the Prince,  
Than fixing her in Portugal for ever,  
Where they may sigh, gaze, talk, and— Oh what not?  
That Thought has raised a Tempest in my Soul,  
Not to be calmed whilst hated Agnes lives.   Enter Bianca. Bianca. 

Madam, that serious Air ill suits your Fate;  
Fortune this Day begins to change her Side  
Ashamed of favouring Fools, and Knaves so long,  
To make some recompense she courts you now.  
Does so obligingly assist your Wish,  
It may regain the Honour she has lost;  
And for her Blindness past, this Choice attones.   Elvira. 

Fortune bestows her Gifts without Distinction,  
She ne'er considers, either Fools, or Wise,  
But follows a Caprice, a love to Change:  
The fawning Jilt ne'er smiles but to deceive,  
And but deludes me here with vain Success,  
Whilst I'm defeated in my greatest Hopes;  
In kindness she pretends to wound my Foes,  
But basely turns my Weapons on myself.   Bianca. 

Defend me heaven! you're not betrayed I hope!   Elvira. 

'Tis worse, to see a Plot so well designed,  
Secret as Fates Decrees, yet unavailing.   Bianca. 

Dear Madam, How have you been misinformed?  
The Princess bears it as we might expect,  
Th'effect of her Displeasure's yet uncertain,  
But we may hope the best.   Elvira. 

It is not her I fear,  
My Brother's Fondness gives me Apprehensions,  
Which at my Soul's expense I would shake off.  
But the Particulars of your Success!  
You have not told me yet your grounds of Hope.   Bianca. 

I sought you for that end.  
When I'd received the Letter from your Hand,  
I hasted to the Garden, where I found  
The Princess leaning on her Rival's Neck;  
They mingled Kisses with the tenderest Words,  
As if their Rivalship had made 'em dear;  
Nor did she meet her Lord with greater Kindness:  
As soon as he appeared, Agnes desired  
Permission to retire, which she obtained:  
Th'occasion fairly offered, I observed,  
And waited only, till the Prince had ended  
His last Endearments, which were short, but kind.  
Then I approached, the Paper in my Hand;  
And to my Wish, she asked me what I held;  
I told her 'twas a Letter Agnes dropped,  
Just when she left her Highness;  
I'll give it her th' unwary Princess said.  
And took it with an Air so unconcerned,  
As plainly showed she feared not what she found,  
And that a friendly Freedom made her read it,  
No Spark of jealous Curiosity.   Elvira. 

Dull, senseless piece of Earth! and than she smiled,  
As pleased her Friend took pity of her love,  
Or wept for Grief that she disturbed their Joys,  
Say, How did it affect her?   Bianca. 

She neither wept, nor smiled, but as surprised,  
A Momentary Red o'erspread her Face;  
Soon as that disappeared, she only sighed,  
And read it twice with all her natural Temper;  
Then, with a Voice, and Aspect won'drous mild,  
She gave Command that all, without exception,  
Should be denied admittance to her Chamber;  
Agnes came often there, but was refused,  
Which seized her with so violent a Grief,  
As showed her love surpassed the Princesses,  
Or that her Moderation was far less.   Elvira. 

The Princess is a singular Example  
Of Apathy, which Stoics preached in vain;  
For Nature's Laws were still more strong than theirs:  
But sure Constantia's of another Kind,  
Not made of the same Elements with us,  
Or Nature, forming her, forgot the Fire.  
Oh! could I but infufe with that cold Mass,  
Th' excessive part of Spirit which boils o'er,  
And burns within, with more than needful Force,  
'Twould heat her to a generous active Rage,  
Which soon would free her from that Curse, a Rival.  
I would for such a Change, compound with Heaven,  
For all the Blessings meant to be my Lot:  
But Miracles like that, are only wrought to ruin me.  
My Brother is transformed for my Destruction;  
That noble Pride is lost, that haughty Soul,  
Which looked on all below it with Disdain,  
Is now subjected to a Woman's Scorn:  
I met him going to that Sorceress,  
Joyful to lay new Honours at her Feet,  
And be again despised. Spite of her Slights,  
He swears he'll marry her by Force if she refuse.  
Gods! must she have all Hearts which I would claim!  
Why were our jarring Fates so nearly set?  
One Heart can never long contain two Things,  
So incompatible as Agnes and Elvira.  
No, nor the World; or She, or I, must leave it.   Bianca. 

Will not her Banishment suffice?   Elvira. 

Her Banishment! What to my Brother's Arms?  
Poor spirited Alvaro's grown so mean,  
He'd take her from the Prince's Bed, to his;  
Hell and Confusion! Must she be his Wife?   Bianca. 

Rather than hope to be in time the Prince's!   Elvira. 

Both's Death to me, and both must be prevented.   Bianca. 

Have you considered, Madam, your Design,  
The Danger, and the Shame, that must attend it?   Elvira. 

So Agnes be involved in equal Fate,  
I would not stop, though Hell were in my way;  
'Tis past Dispute, she dies what ere oppose,  
This Day shall end the Triumphs of her Eyes,  
This Day be sacred to Revenge for ever.  
We're certain now to find her, and alone,  
Her Friendship is too nice in such a breach  
To let her visit, or be visited.  
Go you prepare with haste and secrecy,  
Horses, and fit Disguises for us both,  
That we may fly Coimbra, if suspected;  
My Brother, and Lorenzo both have Interest,  
And both Concern enough, to gain my Pardon;  
Then Agnes has provoked the King so far,  
He'll easily forgive a Death he wishes:  
If not, the World affords us choice Retreats,  
Countries that much surpass our Portugal,  
Where we may live as great, and more secure:  
But let what will befall me, thou shalt see I'm not ungrateful.   Bianca. 

May Fortune serve you faithfully as I,  
And take your part in every Enterprise,  
With the same Zeal, as you're obeyed by me.   Elvira. 

As I dare trust thy Faith; I take thy Wish.  
This is the Hour, if Fortune will be kind,  
An Hour most fit to make Revenge complete;  
A single Death's too little for my Wrongs,  
But Life, and Fame; at once, is worthy them;  
This, for my Lover's, that my Brother's Heart.  
Thus my Revenge, shall beyond Death extend,  
And whilst her Name is known, will never end.   [Exeunt;  

SCENE II.  Enter Agnes and her Woman. Agnes. 

The Light offends me; let the Room be darkened,  
And none be suffered to disturb my Thoughts. [Exit Woman  
How much our Souls and Bodies sympathize!  
Now that my Mind is filled with gloomy Sadness,  
The cheerful Light is hateful to my Eyes.   [Woman returns Woman. 

Madam, here's Don Alvero to wait on you,  
He won't be refused Admittance.   Agnes. 

What pains a hated Lover takes to see himself despised!   Enter Alvero. Alvero. 

He whom all Portugal. obeys, and fears,  
Who scarce beholds a Creature not below him,  
With pain obtains the Grace to kneel to you.   Agnes. 

It is not fit a Man of Power so vast,  
Should stoop to any but his God, or King;  
I pay but what I owe your Quality.   Alvero. 

How cruelly you show your mock-respect!  
Respect to Slaves condemned, is but Derision,  
A Barbarous, Tyrannical Insult.   Agnes. 

From you I learned that witty Tyranny;  
For under colour of dissembled Love,  
You plague and torture more effectually,  
Than all the Hate of barefaced Enemies.   Alvero. 

If loving you almost to Adoration,  
And throwing all my Honours at your Feet,  
If that be torturing you, how are you pleased?   Agnes. 

Obedience pleases me.   Alvero. 

I would obey, unjust, relentless Fair,  
But if I cease my Suit I lose my Hopes;  
Where's then the Fruit of such a vain Obedience?   Agnes. 

Enjoy the Fruit then of your Disobedience,  
A Hate, as obstinate, as fixed as that.   Alvero. 

Nature has been unjustly lavish here,  
To have bestowed so rich a Stock of Beauty,  
As must impoverish half the World beside,  
On one, who churlishly denies Relief to starving Beggars,  
Whilst the wretched Miser, but hoards a Treasure  
Which she cannot use, nor will its Value last.   Agnes. 

If Beauty be a Treasure, sure 'twas meant  
For a Reward to Virtue; whilst the rest,  
The Riches, Honours, all the Gifts of Fortune,  
Are blindly given to those who least deserve;  
Whose Servile Souls make 'em more fit to stoop  
Through all the little ways that lead to Greatness.   Alvero. 

The Great are only Virtuous; What but Power  
Makes Actions Right, or Wrong? Accept my Love,  
And you shall see yourself above control,  
Where none, in Thought, dare tax you of a Fault.   Agnes. 

My Innocence is more to me than Fame,  
Your boasted Power can only give a Name;  
A Name which all that know you will despise:  
I see you worshipped like a God 'tis true,  
But 'tis with Worship such as Indians paid;  
They fear, but hate, and curse you at the Heart:  
My pure unbiased Soul, from Interest free,  
Unmoved, by what the Vulgar tremble at,  
Defies that Devil which it sees within:  
I see it, through the gilded, thin disguise.   Alvero. 

That Devil you defy, may make you fear;  
Your God is absent, for your Worship's known;  
I'll seize his Heaven, h'as fixed it in your Charms,  
And give him Hell, to see you in my Arms.   [Exit. Alvero. Agnes. 

Monster of Nature, I detest the Thought.  
Inquire if the Princess may be seen. [Exit. Woman.  
If she is changed, What can remain the same?  
The heavens' did not more regularly move:  
She seemed immediately inspired from thence;  
So just, and of a Piece, was all her Thoughts:  
She is inspired, 'tis Heaven directs her now,  
For Heaven is angry that this Day shone.  
Where shall a persecuted Virgin fly?  
What can I hope, abandoned by the Princess,  
Whose Goodness only chased away my fears?  
Oh! she's unkind, she's in one hour transformed!  
What have I done, nay thought, that could displease her?  
Did I not part from her with some regret?  
Was I not grieved she gave me leave to go?  
Methought I wished to see the Prince once more,  
And then began to apprehend his Danger,  
With anxious fears I had not known till then.  
But if she knew those Thoughts, she'd know as well  
I checked the sinful Tumult in my Breast,  
Not less offended with the Guilt than she.   Enter Woman. Woman. 

Madam, the Princess has just left her Chamber.   Agnes. 

Whither does she intend?   Woman. 

It is not known,  
Only supposed, she went to walk in private,  
Being unattended.   Agnes. 

Perhaps she may, I'll seek her in the Garden,  
And know my Crime, or die for Expiation.   [Exit. Enter Princess. Princess. 

Already dark! Time does not creep so slow,  
That we had need t'anticipate the Night.   Woman. 

'Twas my Lady's Order to entertain her Grief,  
But if your Highness pleases, I'll—   Princess. 

Oh no, let it be thus, I like it well.  
All that looks mournful suits my Misery. [To herself.  
But why should she be sad?  
Can Guilt, and Innocence, have like Desires?  
This Melancholy Fancy pleases me.  
Where is your Lady?   Woman. 

Madam, she's just gone out, with a design  
To wait upon your Highness.   Princess. 

Tell her I will expect her here. [Exit Woman.  
'Twere most unjust to punish her unheard,  
Thus far I owe, to one that was my Friend,  
To one, who though ungrateful still I love.  
Something methinks, pleads strongly for her Truth,  
Tells me she may be wronged, and innocent;  
Yet what should move Bianca to deceive me?  
What Interest could she have? What end in that?  
No, no, 'tis plain,  
Agnes is false, as false as she was true;  
For she was true, till by the Prince seduced.  
The Prince! that Name's enough for her excuse.  
What Virtue can be proof against his Charms?  
That irresistible, that Godlike Man;  
Yet much she might have suffered, much for me,  
For none could love more tenderly than I;  
I found in her supposed Fidelity  
Full Recompense for all I lost before;  
My Husband's want of Love her Love atoned:  
This was a Blow struck to the very Heart,  
There's now no Remedy in Nature left;  
No, both shall see me quickly in my Grave;  
My Death will make your Loves more innocent,  
Your Guilt, and my Misfortunes in one Tomb, for ever shall be laid.   Enter Elvira behind the Princess. Elvira. 

Alone in Darkness, and so fitly placed!  
Now vanish all that's womanish or soft; [Stabs her in the Back.  
Rival, Revenge has said this Hours thy last;  
And to torment thee in thy latest Gasp,  
Know, by my Means, the Princess thinks thee false.   Princess. 

Wicked Elvira, thy mistaking hand,  
Has done a Deed too good for thy Design;  
Heaven guided it, to ease me of a Life,  
Which was a heavy, grievous Burden grown:  
And hinder thy Intent to snatch from hence,  
The choicest Jewel, which the World could boast.   Elvira. 

Cursed be the fatal Power that guided me;  
Cursed be the Arm that blindly did obey;  
Take the Reward thy Treachery deserves: [Stabs her Arm, and throws away the Dagger.  
Oh! I have bravely hazarded my Life,  
To make a Passage open for my Rival,  
To bring her safely to the Prince's Arms,  
To give the longing Lovers all they wished;  
Cursed, cursed, Elvira!   Enter Agnes. 

Here's my proud Enemy; Ha, is she here?  
I feel new Mischief brooding in my Soul;  
Aid me this once the great Infernal Tribe,  
For Agnes Death, my Soul shall be the Bribe.   [Exit. El. Princess. 

Now let me die in Peace, since Heaven allows  
Me once to see thee, dearest, injured Maid.   Agnes. 

Now let my Soul be calm, die all my Fears,  
Since you, the Object of my Hopes, are kind:  
Not Ships in Storms, not Travellers benighted,  
Amongst wild Beasts, left in a lonely Wood,  
Can half express the Anguish I have felt,  
Deprived of you, my Light, my Guard, my All.   Princess. 

Forgive me Child, be all thy Wrongs forgot,  
For ever washed away, in my Life's Blood.   Agnes. 

Better all Womankind at once should perish,  
Than you, the sole Perfection of the Sex,  
The greatest Blessing, of the whole Creation.   Princess. 

Say rather, the Encumbrance of the Earth;  
One who but lived for an unhappy Plague,  
To the most Noble, most Divine of Men;  
Which Heaven, grown mild, most kindly does remove,  
With this additional Favour to my Death!  
That it preserves thy dearer envied Life,  
And in thy Life, the Prince's.   Agnes. 

Horrible Mystery, of Life, and Death,  
Oh ease my trembling Heart! What mean you Madam?   Princess. 

Fear only for thyself, for I am well;  
But, Agnes, thou hast many Enemies.  
The Death I have received was meant for thee;  
Elvira's black Design, whose Envy first  
Contrived against thy Fame, and then thy Life;  
But by a happy Error both are safe;  
At once she gave the welcome Deadly Blow,  
And with malicious Boasting, cleared thy Virtue.   Agnes. 

Perish the Sacrilegious, Hellish Hand;  
Too fatally it wounded where it aimed,  
And gave me double Death in striking you.  
Ah cruel Fate! Was there no other way,  
To make us Friends, but parting us for ever?  
Would I had rather died unjustifyed,  
Contemned, and loathed, by you, and all the World.   Princess. 

Be less transported; thy too moving Grief,  
Had almost forced from me a Wish to live.   Agnes. 

Alas! my heedless Sorrow had forgot,  
To call Assistance, for my dearest Princess.   [Going, the Princess holds her. Princess. 

It would be vain, for Death has seized me all,  
And if thou go'st, I ne'er shall see the more,  
These Eyes will be shut up in lasting Night.  
Stay, and receive a dying Friend's Request;  
Believe thou always hast been dear to me:  
Even when I feared thee False, I thought thee True;  
And let this Forgery, excuse my Fear. [Gives her a Letter.  
Then, if thou'st ever boar me true Affection,  
Double it on the Prince, my better part;  
Entreat him to forgive me for thy sake,  
The Troubles, I unwillingly have caused him.  
Be thou to young Fernando, what I was;  
Speak of me to him. Don't forget thy Friend;  
Remember with my latest Breath, I beg,  
I charge thee love the Prince, I charge thee marry him.  
My Dear I'm going, Heaven receive my Soul.   [Dies. Agnes. 

Oh! she's gone, she's gone, and left me here!  
But I shall overtake my dear, dear, Mistress.  
This Poniard, Purple with her precious Blood;  
'Tis useless, Grief has kindly done its Work.   [As she is going to kill herself, she falls in a Swoon. Enter the King, Alvero, Lorenzo, Elvira, Bianca, Diego, Pedro, Cuello. King. 

heavens' noblest Gift, torn from the groaning Earth,  
By Hell's cursed Engine. Oh my dearest Daughter!   Elvira. 

The wicked Author has avenged her Death;  
Her Fear, has desperately prevented Justice.   King. 

The vilest Hand should punish such a Crime;  
Hers was the fittest for the Execution.   Alvero. 

She has no Wound, some help is requisite;  
She breathes, and stirs.   King. 

Remove her, and be careful of her Life,  
That she may die in painful Agonies.  
Some strange, unheard-of Torture should be made,  
For this foul Act, which has no Precedent.   Alvero. 

But Sister, Are you certain Agnes did it?   King. 

Relate particularly, all you know.   Elvira. 

This Wound is witness of that horrid Truth,  
Which Justice will not suffer me to hide.  
Hither I came to visit Agnes, Sir;  
But finding the unhappy Princess here,  
And seeing both in Heat, retired unseen;  
I scarce had passed one Room, when a shrill Cry  
Recalled me, trembling, to a dreadful Sight,  
The Princess weakly struggling for her Life,  
Which Agnes threatened with a lifted Poniard;  
I wildly flew, and dragged her from her Prey,  
At which enraged she struck this aiding Arm,  
Now quite disabled, forced to lose its Hold;  
Then ran and stabbed the Princess in the Back,  
Who out of breath, and wearied with Resistance,  
Had fallen into the Seat where now she lies,  
Cold, Motionless, and ne'er to rise again.   [Weep. Bianca. 

I was Spectator of this sad Adventure,  
For I alone attended on the Princess;  
Her Highness showed a Letter to Agnes,  
At which they both seemed moved:  
I was commanded then to leave the Room,  
But soon returned, hearing unusual Noise;  
And seeing Agnes with a naked Dagger,  
My Shrieking, brought Donna Elvira back.   Alvero. 

Perhaps this is the Letter you have named;  
'Tis from the Prince, To the Coy, Virtuous Agnes.   [Gives it the King. King. 

'Tis not Don Pedro's Hand.   Alvero. 

He makes excuse for his disguising it. [Aside.  
My Rival, may be, has not yet enjoyed her;  
But if he has, shall I live unrevenged?  
Methinks 'twere brave, both for my Love, and Anger,  
To force the charming, fair, damned Hypocrite.  
Here 'tis impossible; I must remove her,  
And manage so, the King may ne'er suspect me,  
But the Prince's Agents.   King. 

Infamous Strumpet! Barbarous murderess!  
Without these Evidences, 'tis undoubted,  
Agnes alone could wish Constantia's Death;  
For she had such a gen'ral, winning Goodness,  
So easily forgave the greatest Wrongs,  
And was so overtender of her Friends,  
'Twas all Mankind's concern that she should live;  
Nay Agnes owed her more than all the World,  
And she, Ungrateful Wretch! has paid her thus;  
These are the cursed Effects of shameful Love.   Alvero. 

There never was a Scornful Maid like Agnes,  
Affecting coy Reservedness more than common,  
But entertained a secret, sinful Flame.   King. 

That Flame a fiercer Fire must extinguish;  
She shall be tortured first, then burnt alive.  
Lorenzo, she's your Prisoner, keep her strictly.   Lorenzo. 

If I durst beg for her a milder Doom!   King. 

But that I know thee honest, I should think  
Thou wert Accomplice in this base Intrigue.  
Thou lov'st my Son, yet I believed Lorenzo  
Would part with Life, but not his Honour for him.   Lorenzo. 

I thought it not dishonourable, Sir—   King. 

No more; I'll hear no Intercession for her:  
That Man's a Traitor who dares wish her Life;  
Had she ten thousand they were all too few.  
Oh! if her Rage had Butchered half Mankind,  
Not one had fallen lamented like Constantia,  
That murdered, matchless Virtue. Poor Princess!  
Carry her from this poisoned, hated Place:  
And let us all those gen'ral Crimes lament,  
For which this Universal judgement's sent.   [Ex. King, Elvira after the Body. Softly to them. Alvero. 

Pedro, Cuello, and Diego, stay.  
Don Lorenzo, but one short Word with you;  
Do you love Agnes de Castro?   Lorenzo. 

That Question's strange, you know I love your Sister.   Alvero. 

What moved you then to take her part so kindly?   Lorenzo. 

Compassion is indeed a Miracle;  
'Tis true I had a stronger Motive.   Alvero. 

Love, you mean.   Lorenzo. 

The Prince's Love for Agnes is no Secret,  
Nor the Respect I bear him any News;  
That set together may resolve the Riddle.  
But I must give some Orders for my Prisoner.  
Diego be you near, I shall employ you.   [Exit Lorenzo. Alvero. 

There's no tampering with him, he's strictly honest,  
And firmly fastened to the Prince's Interest.  
Diego, you remember, and you Pedro,  
Since the Prince sent you Home, Cashiered, and in Disgrace.   Diego. 

We well remember it.   Pedro. 

And that we owe our Re-establishment to your sole Bounty.   Alvero. 

I see you are grateful, and now offer you  
The way to over-pay me all you owe,  
And be revenged for an Affront so shameful.   Diego. 

When you vouchsafe to give us your Commands,  
You but increase our Debts by your new Favours;  
For 'tis our highest Honour to obey you.   Alvero. 

I think Lorenzo trusts you much Diego.   Diego. 

I've served him faithfully, and gained his Favour.   Alvero. 

You would not then betray him for my Sake?   Diego. 

To serve my Patron, I'd betray my Father.   Alvero. 

Serve me effectually in this Concern,  
Then ask what e'er you wish, 'tis yours I promise; [To Diego.  
Pedro the same to you. 'Tis probable  
Lorenzo (when he leaves her) will commit  
Agnes de Castro to your Charge;  
If so, you easily may make me happy;  
Deliver her to Pedro, who shall wait  
Well guarded to receive her from your Hands,  
And carry her where I shall order him.   Diego. 

I must go too, or stay to die for her.   Alvero. 

Fear not,  
You know Lorenzo is the Prince's Favourite,  
I can persuade the King with show of Reason,  
He did it to preserve his Master's Mistress;  
But though you were discovered, I have Power  
Enough to give you full Security.   Diego. 

My Life can ne'er be better hazarded  
Than in your Service; but if she resists?   Alvero. 

She must be ignorant of your Design.   Pedro. 

Pardon me, Sir, this one Objection:  
Will it not rather please than grieve the Prince,  
To save his Mistress from the Arms of Death?   Alvero. 

A Rival's Arms will be more terrible,  
If Love as fierce as mine inflame his Heart:  
I'd rather see her Damned, than see her his.   Diego. 

Pedro be ready, I'll to Don Lorenzo,  
E'er this he wants me for his Prisoners' Guard;  
And I shall guard her, safer than he thinks.  
Sir, doubt not of my Faith, or Diligence.   [Exit Diego. Alvero. 

I know thou lov'st thyself too well to fail me.  
I must inflame the King against his Son;  
Saving the murderess of his Wife, is Fuel  
Which by my Art shall blaze to his Destruction.  
Pedro we must prepare for our great Work;  
Oh Fate! I thank thee, if thou hast designed  
So singular a Grace, 'tis wondrous kind;  
Love, which could scarce with Interest e'er agree,  
Now serves Ambition and Revenge for me.   [Exeunt. 
The End of the Third Act.    


ACT IV. SCENE I.  Agnes in a Swoon, Women about her endeavouring to recover her. Lorenzo. Agnes. 

CRuel Tormentors, let me die in quiet;  
Here by my murdered Princess, let me die.  
Where is she? Ha! what have you done with her? [Starts up.  
I beg you tell me, for I'll never leave her;  
Show me her Grave; since you refuse me Death,  
I'll be entombed alive, with my dead Friend.   [Offers to go, Lorenzo stops her. Lorenzo. 

Pardon me, Madam, this ingrateful Office,  
I must not let you go.   Agnes. 

He thinks me mad, indeed I should be so;  
Madness would be more reasonable now,  
More decent in my Case, than stupid Patience;  
But I retain a wild, a raving Reason:  
Have I not reason thus to tear my Hair?  
To fall upon the Ground, and mourn my Princess?  
Have I not reason too, to curse Elvira?   Lorenzo. 

Madam, indeed you cannot grieve too much;  
But speak more charitably of Elvira,  
For in her Case, you would have done the same.   Agnes. 

What, can Lorenzo justify her Crime!  
Oh most unworthy of thy Prince's love!  
Tho she's thy Mistress, dar'st thou take her part,  
In such an Action, done against thy Patron,  
Which robs him most inhumanly, of her  
Who loved him most, and most deserved his Love?   Lorenzo. 

Madam, You know him not so well as I;  
My Prince himself would not condemn Elvira.   Agnes. 

Base Detractor! thy Master is most just;  
And though her Life had not been dear to him,  
He would condemn, and generously lament,  
A Fate so sad, and so deplorable.   Lorenzo. 

'Tis from that generous Justice I affirm,  
He would not blame Elvira.   Agnes. 

Give me Patience Heaven!  
How impudently he defends her still!  
What canst thou say to plead so foul a Cause?  
'Tis true, her Aim was at my worthless Life:  
But did I ever give her Provocation?  
If any Wrongs could justify a Murder.   Lorenzo. 

Your Rage transports you, Madam;  
It does not merit that opprobrious Term.   Agnes. 

Oh no! She had been innocent indeed,  
If I had fallen a Victim to her Hate;  
But (to prolong my Woes) that was not suffered,  
And cruel Fate, can only be accused.  
Ah! Why was her more kind Intention hindered?  
Why was not that ill-guided Instrument  
Plunged deep in my Heart's Blood, to glut her Rage?   Lorenzo. 

Did she then make attempt against your Life?   Agnes. 

Has not Elvira owned 'twas her Design?  
What could she urge but that in her Defence?  
And by what other way could you excuse her?  
Sure the most Savage Nature could not harbour  
A Thought against so mild, so good a Princess:  
Ah Lorenzo! Before, I wondered that you should defend her;  
I tremble now, with Horror at you for it.   Lorenzo. 

You amaze me, what do you accuse her of?   Agnes. 

Why do you trifle with a wretched Maid?  
Ah miserable Agnes! shun Mankind;  
There's nothing virtuous, since Constantia's gone,  
No Life without her; I'll go find her out,  
And breathe my Soul into her Lifeless Corpse.   [Is going Lorenzo. 

Madam, I have strict Order to retain you,  
You are my Prisoner.   Agnes. 

Your Prisoner! Sure you've lost your Wits Lorenzo.   Lorenzo. 

This seeming Ignorance will not avail you;  
Elvira has discovered all the Fact:  
'Twere better to repent and own your Crime,  
Than pull new Judgements on your guilty Head, by falsely taxing her.   Agnes. 

If what I darkly apprehend be true,  
In vain have all my Thoughts been innocent,  
In vain have all my Actions aimed at Glory.  
Ah Don Lorenzo! No, it cannot be;  
I have strange Fears, but 'tis impossible;  
What is my Crime? be plain, and clear my Doubts.   Lorenzo. 

Elvira, and Bianca, have declared  
Before the King, they saw you kill the Princess.   Agnes. 

And he believes it? you believe it too?  
Alas! none living knows that I am wronged.   Lorenzo. 

We found you, Madam, lying by the Princess,  
Holding the bloody Poniard in your Hand.   Agnes. 

Grief for her Loss, had moved a sinful Thought,  
Of laying violent Hands upon myself:  
Oh Heaven! did you prevent my Guilt in that,  
And yet permit the Innocence you saved  
To be reproached with a more horrid Crime?   Lorenzo. 

Madam, be careful:  
What probably could be Elvira's Motive,  
To kill the Princess?   Agnes. 

Alas I have no Witness of my Truth;  
But virtuous Souls, perhaps may know each other:  
I'm pleased I speak to you, for you are honest,  
And love, I think, Elvira less than Justice.   Lorenzo. 

Speak, Madam, for I love my Prince so well,  
I'd rather find her criminal, than you.   Agnes. 

May I for ever be excluded Heaven,  
If I shall utter aught beside the Truth;  
The Princess came alone to find me here,  
And sent for me, for I was just gone out.  
When I returned, I saw Elvira fly,  
And, (Oh most dreadful Sight!) my Princess dying;  
She told me with her last, expiring Breath,  
Elvira had designed those Wounds for me,  
The sad Mistake, occasioned by the Place;  
And that in wounding her she cleared my Fame;  
Which by a Letter, forged I know not how,  
She had before aspersed.   Lorenzo. 

Was not Bianca with the Princess?   Agnes. 

I saw her not.   Lorenzo. 

Yet she protests against you;  
Elvira has a Wound too, which confirms her Accusation.   Agnes. 

Alas! I know no more; the Princess scarce  
Had Life enough to give me her Commands.  
Lorenzo kneel, and join in what I ask: [They kneel.  
Sacred Divinity, hear our just Prayer;  
Let not the Guilty 'scape unpunished here,  
But by some strange uncommon Judgement show,  
Who shed that Blood which cries to thee for Vengeance,  
And by her torturing Conscience, clear the Injured.   Lorenzo. 

Hear her, and guide my Heart to favour most,  
Her, whom thy Wisdom knows to be most just.   Agnes. 

How strange a Charm is Virtue in a Soul!  
Mine feels a Calm almost incredible,  
After those blust'ring Storms, in which 'twas tossed.   Lorenzo. 

Tho all Appearances are much against her,  
Her Looks, her Grief, and Manner of Expression,  
Have something so sincere, and unconstrained,  
They would persuade me she is innocent:  
Whether my fear to wrong the Guiltless move me,  
Or that I am inspired from Heaven, I know not;  
But, Madam, if you dare confide in me,  
I'll carry you where you shall be secure  
From those Indignities, designed you here.   Agn. 

Lorenzo no, I'm not so fond of life  
To save it, by involving you in ruin.   Lor. 

My danger's little, I can fly with you,  
Or to the Prince, he will be my Protector.   Agn. 

What would the World conclude from such a flight?  
I could not give a greater confirmation,  
To what they now injuriously suspect,  
Than flying with the Prince's Favourite;  
Nay worse, 'twould cast a blemish on the Prince,  
And raise suspicions he were accessary.   Lor. 

You rather choose a death most infamous.   Agn. 

I do not choose,  
What by all decent ways I would avoid,  
But bear it, as a fatal consequence  
Of that which Honour forces me to take.   Lor. 

Your scruples are more nice than reasonable;  
What scandal can your Enemies invent  
More ignominious, than is now believed?  
Or will your staying here, regain your same?   Agn. 

At least I shall enjoy this consolation,  
They could not ground their malice on my actions;  
And if my rigid Stars ordain my shame,  
I'd better die to lay it in oblivion,  
Than live to make my infamy more lasting.   Lor. 

Since I believe her wrongfully condemned,  
Unless I aid her, I'm her Murderer;  
Something I must endeavour for your safety.   Agn. 

Generous Lorenzo, do not tempt your fate,  
'Tis rash to leap after a drowning Friend,  
When a tempestuous raging Sea affords  
No hopes of aught, but ruin to yourself.   Lor. 

Your case, I hope, is not so desperate;  
And 'tbe most barbarous to see you sink,  
When standing sheltered from the threatning storm,  
I could attempt to save you without hazard;  
'Tis by the Prince's Arms I hope to do it,  
Nor will defer what I've resolved one moment,  
In two hours' time I can be with my Master;  
Be pleased to give me your Commands in brief.   Agn. 

Since I in vain persuade you not to go,  
I pray you, good Lorenzo, tell the Prince,  
That I desire nothing from his Justice,  
But to believe, I die most innocent.   Lor. 

I'll obey you,  
But hope to find his Justice more effectual.  
This Night shall bring you news of my Success,  
Mean while, I leave you to Diego's Charge,  
He's Faithful, and will treat you with Respect.   [Exit Lor. Agnes alone. 

How falsely do the most of Mankind judge,  
Who think the Fortunate are only happy;  
The Vulgar, charmed with what affects the Sense,  
Ne'er know the nobler riches of the Mind,  
Nor that peculiar privilege of Virtue,  
To make the Poor distressed, great and content;  
Condemned, despised, and Prisoner as I am,  
I would not change Conditions with Elvira.   Enter Diego, with Pedro and Soldiers. Diego. 

Madam, the King has sent these Messengers  
To move you to a more secure Confinement.   Agn. 

Perhaps to Death, an ignominious Death;  
But I shall meet my Princess where I go,  
And our unspotted Souls, in Bliss above,  
Will know each other, and again will love.   [Exit. Enter Elvira alone. 

Thus far has Fortune waited on my wish;  
What does my discontented Heart desire?  
I know not what I fear, and yet methinks,  
I tremble every little noise I hear,  
And a still silence fills my Soul with horror.  
Bugbear for Fools, called checks of Conscience down,  
The childish prejudice of Education;  
Those Heathens who were taught for Piety,  
What we esteem Debauches, felt remorse  
When they omitted their licentious Worship:  
Shall such a turncoat Monitor be heeded?  
False Babbler peace; be cheered my sullen Heart.  
I've heard soft Music charms a troubled Mind  
Lulls Cares asleep, and calms the roughest Passions;  
Who waits there? sing me some mournful Song.   [After a Song the Ghost of the Princess rises. Gho. 

Thou think'st thy Crimes secure, because unknown;  
But, wretched Woman, thou thyself art Witness,  
And unsuspected shall accuse thyself.   [Ghost descends. Elvira Mad. 

Furies and Hell! what's that? where am I? Dead;  
No, there's too gentle Plagues in t'other World;  
The Princess is come back to find worse here,  
Or bring 'em all to me, she'll murder me.  
Ha! that was a Hangman's voice, will he know me?  
Let's see, is Murder printed in my face? [Pulls out a Looking glass.  
Ah! those are killing eyes— I'll stare the Prince to death:  
Look how they flame, they'll burn him up to ashes,  
But Agnes sets his heart and soul on fire;  
I'll weep it out, I'll quench it with my tears. [Weeps.  
Oh there's a clatt'ring Drum beats in my Head;  
Hush, hush, 'twill wake the Gods, they're fast asleep;  
They drunk Opium when I killed the Princess:  
Say not a word, I'll go murder 'em all,  
And be Empress of the Moon; help me, Brother,  
You shall be Phebus, and set the World on fire.  
If the Ghost comes I'll stab it again;  
Would the Devil would keep it to himself tho:  
I'll send Agnes to her, she'll like her company.  
'Twas a frightful sight, I'm afraid she's damned;  
Well, 'twas a good Woman, I'll pray for her soul,  
And then she won't haunt me; she's there again,  
Murder, murder, murder.   [She runs several ways, and then Exit. Enter Diego. 

'Tis an unhappy Fate, to serve two Masters  
Whose Natures, and whose Interests disagree;  
Whilst one entrusts me for the other's ruin,  
They leave me not the power of being honest,  
My choice is only, which I should betray;  
Nor am I absolutely free in that,  
Tho' inclination bends me to Lorenzo,  
Yet stronger interest binds me to Alvero.  
Self-preservation, Nature's universal Law,  
Constrains me to preserve my Faith to him,  
Who can at pleasure, crush me into nothing;  
So far he 'as dipped me in his Villanies,  
He durst not let me live should I turn honest,  
And now I must continue that for Fear,  
I was at first for Gain, against my Nature.   Enter to him the King, Alvero and Attendants. King to Diego. 

Tell Lorenzo I would see his Prisoner.   Diego. 

Sir, he is gone,  
He went as soon as he received your Orders.   K. 

What Orders? I sent none.   Dieg. 

He said your Majesty commanded him  
To carry Agnes to a closer Prison.   Alu. 

And is she gone from hence?   Dieg. 

Yes, my Lord, she went with Don Lorenzo.   K. 

Thunder confound 'em both.  
What think you of his treachery, Alvero?   Alu. 

I'm at a loss;  
It could not probably be for himself;  
And yet I'm loath to think the Prince consented.   K. 

The Prince! they had not time to give him notice.   Alu. 

True,  
Unless it were contrived before he went.   K. 

Then he contrived the Murder of his Wife.   Alu. 

I fear, most certainly, he knew the other,  
But he may still be ignorant of both;  
Perhaps Lorenzo does himself love Agnes.   K. 

No, no, he knew the Prince's love too well,  
He 'as been a trusty Confident, no doubt,  
And Pimped the lustful Couple to their Joys.  
Send out to search most strictly through my Kingdom,  
Proclaim a vast Reward for those shall find 'em.   Enter Bianca hastily. Bia. to Alu. 

Ah, my Lord, the saddest News!   Alu. 

What can be added to our Misery?  
Thy frighted looks would speak some dreadful thing.   Bia. 

Alas! it is a dreadful thing indeed,  
Dona Elvira takes the Princess's death  
So much to heart, she is deprived of Reason;  
I met her raving, like a furious Lion,  
robbed of her Young, she talks the wildest things,  
Of Murder, Ghosts, of Agnes, and the Princess.   Alu. 

Oh fatal Day! oh my unhappy Sister!  
To what unheard of place is Justice flown,  
For now she seems to have deserted Heaven?   K. 

Rash Man forbear profanely to repine,  
Could Providence be guided by our Wishes,  
One day would show our Folly by our Ruin,  
So ignorant is Man what's Good or Ill;  
Yet we ungratefully complain of Heaven,  
As Children murmur at their loving Parents  
For snatching dangerous Weapons from their hands.   Alu. 

I was to blame, be my Surprise excuse,  
Yet though not murmur, I must morn her Fate.   K. 

In that I'll join with thee, and will assist thee,  
If half my Revenue can bring her Cure:  
Mean while we'll meditate a just Revenge;  
Go you to see Elvira, whilst I order  
Our Forces to unite, in case my Son  
Should make Attempt to save his wicked Friends.  
My Daughter, and your Sister, call for Justice,  
And they shall soon have ample Satisfaction,  
For Agnes, and Lorenzo, both shall die,  
We'll show our Pious Grief, in Tears, and Blood.   [Exit King. Alu. 

You have made a quick dispatch, Diego;  
But where's Lorenzo?   Dieg. 

My Lord, I know not where.  
After conferring a long time with Agnes,  
He rid in haste, not saying where he went.   Alu. 

I hope to plot for Agnes, with the Prince;  
'Tis kindly done, to save their Friends the labour,  
They throw themselves into the mouth of ruin;  
And she that's cause of all shall have her share,  
My Love has given her but a short reprieve;  
When I have reaped what to my passion's due,  
She dies Elvira, she shall bleed for you.   [Exit. 
The end of the Fourth Act.    


ACT V. SCENE I. The Scene opens.  Elvira asleep on a Couch, Bianca weeping by her, Alvero advances. The King enters to him, and the Scene shuts. K. 

WHat hopes have the Physicians of your Sister,  
If Heaven be propitious to their care?   Alu. 

Sir, they can give no certain judgement yet,  
She's ta'en a dose to make her sleep an hour,  
Which may produce a change to fix their thoughts.   K. 

So may our good endeavours prove successful,  
As she's the just Detectour of a Crime,  
Which cries aloud to Heaven, and if concealed,  
Had pulled avenging Plagues on all our heads,  
Your quick return gives hopes you've news of Agnes.   [Enter a Messenger. Mess. 

May't please your Majesty, she's coming hither,  
Conducted by the Prince, and Don Lorenzo   Alu. 

What say you! Agnes coming hither!   Mess. 

She is, my Lord; we had not traveled far  
ere we perceived her Chariot at a distance;  
We strove to reach her, but before we could,  
We saw a body of Soldiers had approached her,  
Which seemed of a considerable strength;  
Her Guards affrighted, quickly left their charge,  
As we suppose, thinking them Enemies,  
Sent by your Majesty to apprehend 'em;  
And when we found it was the Prince had met her,  
I rid before to tell your Majesty.   K. 

Dares he so openly protect the Murtheress!  
By this base act he has renounced my Blood,  
And I renounce him, he's no more my Son.   Alu. 

Coming attended in this hostile manner,  
Shows he'll defend her with his utmost power.   K. 

He's too far in to stop at any guilt.   Enter the Prince leading Agnes, Lorenzo, Pedro and Guards. K. 

A decent Sight; is this your Nuptial-day?  
'Tis well; she who has robbed you of a Wife,  
Has given you in return a fitter for you;  
And we'll affist to solemnize your Bridals:  
Guards seize 'em.   [Guards look on one another without stirring. Prin. 

You cannot be my Friends, if you are Rebels,  
Seize me, your King commands you.   Agn. 

They know there needs no Guard;  
We came not (Sir) to fly, or to resist;  
But to declare my innocence, and beg  
Your justice, for the Murder of the Princess,  
Who at her Death, accused Elvira of it.   Alv 

Brand not with shame, a poor unhappy Maid,  
Whose misery you have already caused;  
Alas! she was so far from killing her,  
The grief of it, has brought her to destraction.   Agn. 

Heaven, thou art just.   Lor. 

Madam, our Prayers are heard.   K. 

What Prayer could you make, or have accepted?  
From such polluted hands: Oh hardened Wretch!  
How calmly she can talk of heaven's Justice,  
As if she had not in a thought provoked it!  
Are Murder and Adultery petty Crimes?  
Thou dost not tremble, shameless Prostitute.   Prin. 

Ah, Sir, for bear, you wrong the purest virtue,  
She never gave,  
I never asked, the finallest Favour of her.   K. 

Perhaps her hot Desires prevented you,  
She kindly gave at first the greatest Favours.  
Yet you have asked, let this convince you both, [Letter  
This shows the Correspondence you maintained,  
This, this Discovery, cost your Wife so dear.  
Blush, if thou'st ere a spark of Virtue left,  
Blush at this Prologue to Constantia's Murder:   Prin. 

reads, Dear Agnes, now you may reward my Love  
The Rebels favour us, be you as kind;  
Intreat Constantia's leave to go from Court,  
She knows I love, you use that fair Pretence,  
Say you would fly a Prince who does Adore you,  
And unsuspected, crown my longing Passion.   

Speaks, The Fallacy 's as palpable as day,  
Constantia heard not till this fatal morning  
Of my unhappy Love;  
I hid it both from her, and from its Object,  
Till Chance discovered the tormenting Secret,  
Since which, I did not leave my generous Princess  
Till you commanded me; and all the Court  
Know well, I in that moment left Coimbra,  
In which I parted from your Majesty.  
How then had I time to frame this Letter?   K. 

How found you time to frame your wicked Plot?  
'Twas neither with the Princess, nor with me,  
You could contrive the Murder of your Wife;  
Hell never fails t'assist, on such Occasions.   Prin. 

Oh horrid! is your Son no better known?  
So black an Accusation quite confounds me.   K. 

Till now indeed my Son was little known,  
And oh! by much too soon he is discovered.  
Grief of my Age, and Shame of our great Race,  
Thy public Actions plainly speak the private;  
What moved thy sudden coming to Coimbra?  
How could thy Mistress know of it to meet thee?  
Or wouldst thou have relieved the Murtheress,  
Unless thou hadst consented to her Crime?   Agn. 

If 'tis by that you judge, release your Son,  
And let Alvero bear the Punishment;  
'Twas he, Sir, snatched me from the Hands of Justice,  
All stained in Blood, and Guilty as he thought me;  
The Prince returns me back, though Innocent,  
Here to be Tried, Condemned or Freed by You.   Alu. 

Your Malice is too obvious to be heeded,  
You found you could not fix it on my Sister,  
And now would hedge me in, ungrateful Maid.   Prin. 

Ah, had your cruel Sister no more Malice,  
Or were her Soul but half so true, so just,  
She had not been arraigned, or I suspected.  
Do not disown, what thousands can attest,  
Tho I alone am Evidence sufficient.  
Sir, by your generous Blood which fills my Veins,  
By all those noble Thoughts you have inspired,  
By Honour, which is sacred to a Prince,  
And on a Christian's Faith, I scorn to lie;  
Lorenzo brought me this most doleful News,  
Who left the injured Agnes Prisoner here;  
And 'twas with great Surprise we met her free,  
For so we thought her, till her Cries declared  
She had but changed for worse Captivity;  
Worse she esteemed it when she learned from Pedro,  
She then was in Alvaro's hated Power;  
The same he owned to stop the Soldiers Fury,  
Who threatened him with Death, if he concealed  
What he intended with his mournful Prize.  
Speak Pedro, let not fear of this Great Man,  
Prevail o'er stronger Truth.   Ped. 

I can't deny what I before confessed,  
I stole her hence by Don Alvaro's Order.   Alu. 

Who's such a Villain to betray his Trust,  
Dares for a Bribe betray his Conscience too,  
And should not be in Justice credited.   K. 

That shall be more examined. But, false Youth,  
You are most criminal whilst you protect  
That bloody Woman, Monster of her Kind,  
Whom all good Men abhor.   Prin. 

Oh, may I never have more Assurance  
Of future Bliss, our promised Happiness,  
Than I have Proofs she's wrongfully Accused;  
Think me not blindly governed by my Passion,  
For were she Guilty, I'd despise and loathe her,  
Forgive me, Sir— But when just Heaven clears her;  
You'll bless, and Praise, that Loyal, seeming Rebel,  
Who durst, against your will, preserve your Virtue.   K. 

The Hypocrite has learned the Holy Cant;  
Be wicked openly, proclaim your Treason,  
These thin Disguises can but cheat the Vulgar;  
Own that your Lust arms you against your Father,  
And be at least, a generous, bare faced Villain.   Agn. 

Most noble Prince, you urge the King too far,  
I ask for no Defence, but Innocence;  
No Arms, but Argument, but Truth, and Virtue;  
If they're without effect we must resign,  
Death's welcomer, than Life with Infamy.   Prin. 

Too nice, too venturous Maid, had you accepted  
That safe Retreat, which first I offered you,  
You had not needed my Protection now.  
Oh Heavens! hadst thou raised me Enemies  
Of monstrous Beasts, Armies of Men, or Devils,  
I could have met their utmost Rage undaunted,  
Secured within by such a righteous Cause;  
But oh my Stars! the sacred name of Father,  
Deprives me of the power to resolve;  
Great Deity, instruct my doubtful Soul,  
Of contradicting Duties, which to choose,  
Or else impute to Ignorance my Errors.   Scene opens, Elvira wakes and starts up. Elu. 

Give me some Air, grim Torturers of Hell,  
Mind not the Princess, fiery Agnes rules her;  
Look, look she pours scalding Blood upon me,  
Take her away. Ha! there's the Witch my Rival;  
She runs, she runs, just to the Prince's arms;  
My Brother cringes to her, now he tears her:  
Hark Lucifer, let's swear her Soul away:  
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, laugh at the Princess,  
She says I'll own myself her Murderer;  
who'll be Fool then? no body saw it;  
Agnes will become a Scaffold as well as I.   Bia. 

Alas, poor Lady! how she loved the Princess,  
th'Idea of her Death, possesses her  
So strongly, she can talk of nought but Murder.   Elu. 

Who dares name Murder? Ha! she can tell Tales; [Pulls a Dagger from under her Gown, and stabs Bianca.  
I'll stop her mouth; this Present was for Agnes,  
But you shall have it, if you'll keep my Secret.   Bian. 

Oh fatal Blow! that Hand is skilled in Death.   K. 

Unhappy Accident, take her away,  
Let her be bound for fear of further Mischief.   Elu. 

Seize Agnes Jailor, seize her, she's in fault; [As she is carried off.  
If she had stayed, and not sneaked off so flyly,  
By this time she had been among Hobgobling,  
And the Princess like a Fool crying for her.  
It was not I, cursed Hellhounds, 'twas not I.   [Exit. K. 

See that her Wound be dressed with care.   Bian. 

Oh no 'tis needless, Heaven has sealed my Fate,  
And shows its Justice most remarkably,  
In punishing my Crimes by her who caused 'em;  
Let me in dying clear my spotted Soul,  
By saving those whose Ruin I designed;  
Elvira promised me a great Reward,  
And wicked Avarice made me consent  
To wrongfully Accuse the virtuous Agnes.  
Ah Madam, can your Charity forgive  
A tortured Wretch, sufficiently unhappy,  
By dreadful Fears, and Stings of deep Remorse?   Agn. 

I do, as e'er I hope to be forgiven.   K. 

Proceed in thy amazing Declaration,  
And on thy Hopes of Heaven, speak only truth.   Bian. 

Alas! what can I hope for by Deceit:  
Elvira forged that Letter which you saw,  
To ruin Agnes in the Princess's thoughts;  
But apprehending still her Brother's Marriage,  
She plotted Agnes' Death to hinder it,  
And 'twas for her that cruel Blow was meant,  
So fatal to the Princess in her absence;  
Which when she found, she struck her own vile arm,  
Enraged against herself for that ill Service,  
But soon was reconciled to the occasion  
Of taking full Revenge on her she hated,  
Which she contrived by that false Accusation,  
In which I aided, to my shame, and grief.   K. 

What caused Elvira's Hate to Agnes? know'st thou?   Bian. 

Envy, and Jealousy. My strength decays,  
Lead me away, I scarce have breath enough  
To beg the Mercy of offended Heaven. [They lead her off.  
Oh horrid Visions, of Eternal Torments!   K. 

What pity 'tis Man's Power should be so vast,  
And yet his Knowledge bound in such straight limits,  
That what we eagerly pursue as good,  
Oft proves the Mischief which we most would shun.  
Oh! how am I escaped just from the brink  
Of that detested Crime, abominable Murder!  
Take care to have Elvira close confined. [To one of the Attend.  
Madam, you're free, thank the just Powers above. [To Agnes.  
My Son, with joy I call thee Son,  
Come to my arms, thou most beloved, wronged Youth.   Prin. 

My King, my Father, do you then forgive me?  
Have you so soon forgot my Disobedience?   K. 

The Cause which you maintained, excuses you,  
And my Injustice cancels all your Faults.  
'Tis late, my Son, I'll leave you to retire,  
This Day's Fatigue, and Grief, requires some Rest.   Prin. 

Scarce any Grief equal the solid Joy,  
Of having such a good, so kind a Father.  
Permit us to attend your Majesty.   [Exeunt the Prince leading Agnes; manet Alvaro Alvero Solus. 

Base Sychophants! not one remains with me,  
Of all that Crowd that worshipped me to day,  
But fly, as if Misfortune were infectious:  
Yes, mine shall be so, more fatal than a Plague;  
Disgraced, and disappointed in my Love,  
Nothing is left for me to court but Vengeance,  
Nothing, that's more than all I am deprived of:  
The King's Favour placed me above his Subjects,  
Revenge on him, makes me above himself,  
Which I will have, if I am still Alvero;  
As that alone the King should fear me more,  
Then when he set me nearest to the Throne,  
For Desparation's bolder than Ambition.  
My Rival is the Pillar of the Nation,  
That fallen, nothing can support the Fabric;  
I know they all rejoice at my Disgrace,  
And therefore they shall all lament with me;  
It must be thought of—  
The Prince, with Agnes will return this way;  
I think I hear 'em, I'll observe the Lovers, [Alvero goes aside to listen.  
Perhaps 'twill contribute to my Designs;  
No other way would exalt my Name,  
Let Universal Ruin give me Fame.   Enter the Prince and Agnes. Prin. 

The business of my life shall be to serve you,  
I have done nothing yet deserves your thanks.   Agn. 

The only Heaven could clear my innocence,  
I am indebted much to your endeavours.   Prin. 

Most to yourself you owe;  
That Majesty so awful, yet serene,  
That calm, unshaken Constancy of Mind,  
Shows Virtue in its height, grown to a habit,  
So perfectly Self-evident in you,  
'Tis as absurd to doubt your Innocence,  
As 'twere to question if the Sun gives light;  
But there are Atheists, though the Deity  
Is visibly expressed, in all his Works.   Agn. 

Oh that malicious Scandals raised of us,  
Were no more prejudicial than to Heaven,  
In the Conversion of an Infidel,  
The Being he Profaned is Glorified,  
But though we prove an Accusation false,  
To us 'tis Shameful to have been suspected,  
That's a Dishonour not to be repaired,  
A sullied Fame no Art can throughly clear;  
But to avoid occasions of Reproach,  
I'll fly, from hence, back to my Native Country,  
Spain will not hear perhaps of my Disgrace.   Prin. 

Where e'er you take your flight, it will proclaim  
The strange Barbarity of Portugal;  
We shall become a Proverb to our Neighbours,  
T'express the most unhospitable Usage;  
But 'tis no matter, this ungrateful Court  
Is most unworthy your Consideration.   Agn. 

It's Prince's Generosity atones  
For all they did, or all they meant against me.   Prin. 

Such are the gross Affronts you have received,  
I scarce dare ask so great a Blessing for us  
As your continuing here; but if I've done  
What Honour, or what Justice did require,  
If I have showed your Merit just esteem,  
Or if Constantia e'er deserved from you,  
Do not desert, a place she loved so well.  
Be generous like yourself, forgive your Wrongs.   Agn. 

They need no Pardon, who design not Ill;  
My Wrongs were by mistake, on well-built grounds,  
And 'twere as great Injustice to revenge 'em,  
As 'twould be vain to think of doing it,  
By taking such a worthless Trifle from 'em:  
But, Sir, my Friends in Spain will now expect me;  
Unwillingly they suffered me to leave 'em,  
When no Entreaties could dissuade me from it,  
So much my Princess was more dear to me,  
Than Kindred, Country, or what else I valued:  
Now she is lost, what should retain me here?  
Where I can meet with nought but Shame and Grief,  
All I foresee makes my Departure needful,  
I find no grounds to raise the least Debate.   Prin. 

Does not a Prince's Life deserve your care?  
Ah cruel Virgin! how you rack my Breast!  
What Constancy is proof against this Trial!  
My Resolution to suppress my Flame,  
Is lost, is vanished, I can hold no longer;  
By Heaven if you pursue your rigorous Purpose,  
You kill a Wretch, who loves you, who adores you.   Agn. 

How justly would the World condemn my Conduct,  
If I should stay after this Declaration?   Prin. 

My Fear, has only made my Ruin suerer,  
And all I gain, is but to Fall unpityed;  
So Slaves compelled by Torments, own their Crimes,  
For which their sentenced to more rigid Pains.  
But my Offence was only in confessing,  
Why will you punish what you forced me to,  
You tortured me, you tore the Secret from me.   Agn. 

Unhappy Creature! what I thought should hinder,  
Precipitates the very Ill I feared.  
But oh, no more of this ill-timed Discourse;  
Ah! is it thus we should lament the Princess?   Prin. 

No, dear Constantia, she upbraids me justly,  
Thy Love deserved eternal Gratitude,  
Thy Virtue should for ever be remembered;  
All these Complaints, and Sighs of Love, for Agnes,  
Should burst in Tears of lasting Grief for thee.  
I've judged, I have condemned myself already,  
And willingly submit to your Decree; [To Agnes.  
You can effectually revenge the Princess.  
Go, Madam, I deserve the harshest Usage;  
Go, though your Cruelty will give me Death,  
Go boast, that though you knew my Love to you,  
Stronger than Reason, Honour, or my Virtue,  
Yet your impartial Justice was not Bribed,  
To save a perjured, and ungrateful Man.  
Agnes Farewell, farewell to you, and Life,  
For I will lose those Blessings both at once;  
No sooner shall you leave this hateful place,  
Than you shall hear your Lover is no more.   Agn. 

Oh! how his Words prevail upon my Heart, [To herself.  
It melts, 'twill yield I fear, why should it not,  
Should he who for my Freedom, Fame, and Life,  
Exposed his own, receive his Death from me?  
Is treating thus the Man my Princess loved,  
The way to pay her Memory respect?  
And do I thus, obey her dying Charge?  
Brave Prince, if I have Power you must not Die,  
That were a loss too great to be permitted,  
For nothing but a Name, a puff of Breath,  
What though my Honour lie at Stake I'll stay;  
Yet let convenient Decency be kept,  
I must not, dare not, entertain your Passion.   Prin. 

Oh no, this Condescension is enough,  
Great as I wished, beyond my Expectation,  
By all your goodness I'll conceal my flame,  
Till you yourself, shall licence it to blaze;  
But then— (Oh do not give me this repreive,  
Only t'increase the Fear, and pain of Death,  
Then) may I hope, you'll not disdain my Love.   Agn. 

Your Birth, requires Respect from all the World,  
Your Virtue, more commands our Admiration,  
And what I owe particularly to you,  
Would make Disdain most unexcusable.  
I'm not ingrateful, nor insensible,  
My Heart resented deeply all you felt,  
You pierced my Soul, with your Complaints and Sighs;  
But I should hide my tender Virgin-frailty,  
You search too far, and I have shown too much.   Prin. 

No, for I never shall abuse your favour,  
Your Mercy shall not make your Slave presume,  
But whilst I'm tied to Rules, by Vows con fined,  
Some bolder, happier, Man, not awed like me,  
May snatch that lovely Prize I dare not claim,  
And I must lose you, without murmuring.   Agn. 

I reverence my dear dead Princess more,  
Than yet to think of aught that looks like Joy,  
Of Marriage, Love, or any thing but Grief;  
To her I'll consecrate my tender Thoughts,  
Nor dare to think of you, but for her sake.  
Nothing is to be feared save Violence,  
I dread the base Alvero, more than Death.   Prin. 

The watchful Dragon guarded not the Fruit,  
With half that Care with which I'll keep my Love;  
Alvero shall not dare to look on her.   Alu. 

By Lucifer he's much to be lamented;  
Gods! do I tamely stand and hear all this!   Alvario behind draws his Sword, and is making at the Prince, Agnes shrieks, the Prince turning about, and stepping aside to avoid the Blow, it passes to Agnes. Prin. 

Oh treacherous Villain! quickly call for help; [Prince draws, he and Alvero fights, Alvero wounded.  
Stay savage Traitor, stay for my Revenge;  
But what's his Life, how poor a Satisfaction,  
For such a loss, so irreparable,  
This Jewel, of inestimable Value!   Alu. 

If you would be Revenged, conceal your Grief,  
I have not lost my Aim whilst you are Tormented;  
Your Groans, and Sighs, are Music to my Soul,  
Softens my Death, charms all the Pain away;  
I Die with Joy, and Pleasure more than Wounds,  
And could not wish to have succeeded better;  
I've left you Life indeed,— bare Life's a Curse,  
When all the Joys of it are ta'en away,  
And may eternal Curses be your lot.   [Dies. Prin. 

Infernal Fiend! thou couldst not frame a Curse,  
T'increase my Torments. Oh thou bleeding Fair,  
For what does Heaven thus persecute my Life?  
One moment's Bliss, is grudged me by my Stars,  
And for a taste, nay scarce a taste of Joy,  
A faint, imperfect, glimmering of Hope,  
They plunge me in eternal, black, Despair.   Agn. 

The Princess died for me, it is but just,  
My Death should in return preserve his Life,  
Who was the dearest thing to her on Earth.   Prin. 

Preserve it! 'tis the surest Blow of Fate;  
Death comes with more than double force through you.   Agn. 

Dear Prince, for I in Death may call you so,  
Talk not of Dying, lest you anger Heaven,  
Who shows itself concerned that you should Live,  
By thus miraculously guarding you;  
Your Thanks are due for that peculiar Care,  
And to your Stars, for timely taking from you,  
One they foresaw would prove your Life's Encumbrance.  
Disturb your Joys, breed Envy, Hate, Confusion,  
A Nation's Murmurs, and a Father's Anger.   Prin. 

All Trifles to thy Loss, thou brightest Blessing,  
Ah art thou gone! speak once again my Soul.   Agn. 

How have you Charmed my fleeting Spirits back!  
I felt unusual Glowing at my Heart,  
It warmed, and kindled into Life again,  
But Death extinguishes the newborn Fire,  
Ah lovely Prince! must I for ever lose you.   [Dies. Prin. 

For ever! are you then for ever lost!  
I'm torn with racking Griefs ineffable;  
Oh let me pour my fury on the World;  
Tear up this guilty Fabric from its Centre,  
Destroy all Nature, but 'tis done already,  
She's gone, and Earth's a Chaos, all Confusion;  
Where shall I wreck my Vengeance? where? on what?  
On whom but on thyself, for whom she died,  
This only Sacrifice, can make Atonement.   As the Prince is going to fall upon his Sword, Lorenzo with others Enters, Lorenzo holds him. Lor. 

Just Heaven forbid! that were a Blow too fatal,  
Great Sir on yours, the Kingdom's Fate depends,  
Your Life's its Safety, and your Fall its Ruin.   Prin. 

No Kingdom, not a World, should make me live,  
Thou dost but lengthen out my Woes a moment.   [Enter King Attend. K. 

What dismal Scene is this, of Blood and Horror?   Prin. 

Horrid, and Bloody; yet imperfect still;  
Alvero has performed the saddest part,  
But I am to complete the Tragedy.   [Struggles. Lor. 

He'll force himself away, I cannot hold him.   Prin. 

Barbarous Friends, oh Father, if you Love me,  
Why do you keep me from the only Good?  
Why would you have your Son be miserable?   K. 

Hoped you to live in Luxury and Ease,  
Courted by Joys, and Pleasures without end?  
Did you ne'er hear of Pains, and Cares, in Life?  
That thus, Misfortunes seize you unprepared.  
How were you going by so mean an Action,  
To blot out all the Great Ones of your Life?  
Your Valour never made you do before,  
But what a Coward sometimes does for fear,  
'Tis in these Wars, the Combats of the Mind,  
Where Courage from false Bravery is distinguished,  
And if you fly from them to Death, 'twill show,  
There was danger, which you durst not meet.   Prin. 

What ever Man can bear, I dare Encounter,  
It was not Fear nor Despiration armed me,  
But hopes to overtake her mounting Soul;  
Who would not follow such a charming Guide,  
Tho all that's Gay, or Great, enticed 'em back.  
But I can Die without the help of Weapons,  
I wronged my Love by making that Attempt,  
As if I thought it wonted Strength to Kill me;  
I'll wait the lingering leisure of my Grief,  
Thus kneeling at thy Feet, sigh out my Soul,  
And grow a Statue to adorn thy Tomb.   K. 

His Grief opposed, would only rage the more,  
When at full height, 'twill fall again of course;  
Our greatest Passion's have their ebbs, and flows,  
Were Nature constant she'd destroy herself,  
So strong her Motions they'd overthrow her,  
But fiercest Transports, soonest moderate grow,  
Thus to our Frailty, we our Safety owe.   [Exeunt Omnes.   
FINIS.