THE Unhappy Penitent  
A TRAGEDY.  
As it is ACTED, At the Theatre Royal in Drury-Lane , by his Majesty's Servants.  
Written by Mistress TROTTER  
LONDON  
Printed for William Turner, at the Angel at Lincolns-Inn Back-Gate, and John Nutt near Stationers-Hall. 1701.   

To the Right Honourable CHARLES Lord HALLIFAX.  My Lord, 
SInce I first ventured into the World to stand the Test of Public Censure, I have ever had in my aim as the highest Point of Ambition, to produce something worthy of your Lordship's approbation, without which I esteemed the Suffrages of the People, as the Votes of our Representatives, of not force till the Royal Assent Stamps them into a Law, which after none dare contradict: But conscious how far short of that Merit I have hitherto fallen, and yet impatient to offer my intended Homage, I thus address you not as the Sovereign Judge of perfection, but as the Patron and Encourager of all who aspire to it, the not lesle Godlike, though lesle awful Character; which how eminently your Lordships, the many who Flourish under your auspicious Influence are a proof; for if we allow a Congreve to own your Favour to your Strictest Justice, there are not Numbers who could find their Safety but with me, in appealing to your Goodness; though I an apt to think more of our Poets would arrive at perfection, if they observed their peculiar Talon, and confined themselves to it.  
The most Universal Genius this Nation ever bread, Dryden himself did not excel in every part, through most of what he has written there appears a distinguishing greatness, that Elevation of Thought, that Sublime which transports the Soul; he command's our Admiration of himself, but little moves our concern for those he represents; his Genius seems not turned to work upon the softer Passions, though some of his last Translations are excellent in that kind, nothing more lively, more tender, or more moving, but there the Words, alone are his, of which it must be confessed he had on all Subjects the exactest Propriety, the most Expressive, and disposed into the sweetest Numbers.  
Otway besides his Judicious Choice of the Fable, had a peculiar Art to move Compassion, which as it is one of the chief Ends of Tragedy, he found most adapted to his Genius, and never venturing where that did not lead him, exelled in the Pathetic.  
Had Lee consulted his strength as well, he might have given us more perfect Pieces, but aiming at the sublime, instead of being Great he is extravagant; his Style too swelling, and if we pursue him in his flights, he often carries us out of Nature: Had he restrained that vain Ambition, and entirely applied himself to describe the softest of the Passions, (for Love of all the rest he seems best to have understood, if that be allowed a proper subject for Tragedy) he had certainly had fewer defects.  
The inimitable Shakespeare seems alone secure on every side from an attack, (for I speak not here of Faults against the Rules of Poetry, but against the natural Genius) he had all the Images of nature present to him, Studied her thoroughly and boldly copied all her various Features, for though he has chief exerted himself on the more Masculine Passions, 'tis as the choice of his Judgement not the restraint of his Genius, and he seems to have designed those few tender moving Scenes he has given us, as a proof he could be every way equally Admirable.  
I know not how, my Lord, in designing only to hint an Obstacle to perfection in our Poets, I have unawares launched into a subject which I fear your Lordship will think unbecoming me to touch; but if Precedents may be admitted as a Plea, several wretched Poets before me have had the privilege of passing their Censure on the best; however I may be allowed to urge that the Fault which I have cautioned against, is not mine, I know too well the Bounds of my stinted Talon, and I fear may rather be accused of not having exerted the little strength I have, than of aiming beyond it in this weak Performance, which I presume not to offer your Lordship but as an object of your mercy; and like some City Ladies who are content to be the jest at Court rather than not appear there, I feel a Satisfaction in the Honour of being known to your Lordship, though only by my Faults. The knowledge of our Transgressions may be a considerable Step towards amending them for the future, but 'tis certainly a great aggravation of them in the Committing, which I must confess myself guilty of in Writing this Play, being sensible before I begun it of a defect in the Plot, the only one I shall mention as the foundation of all the rest; the Distress is not great enough, the Subject of it only the misfortune of Lovers, which I partly designed in Compliance with the effeminate taste of the Age; notwithstanding which, and the right of Possession, it has long held on the Modern Stage, I have ventured to propose a Doubt whether Love be a proper Subject for it; it seems to me not Noble, not solemn enough for Trajedy, but I have much greater Objection against it, at lest as 'tis generally represented, which the the best of French Poets has made before me, and gives as a Rule, Boileau in his Art Poetic. 
—— que Lamour Souvent de remors combattu  
Pariosse une foiblesse,& non une vertu.   
The most that can be allowed that Passion is to be the Noblest frailty of the Mind, but 'tis a Frailty, and becomes a Vice, when cherished as an exalted Virtue: A Passion which contracts the Mind, by fixing it entirely on one object, and sets all our happiness at Stake on so great hazard as the caprice, or fidelity of another, which if there were not greater is sure sufficient reasion, not to Arm it with more Power than its own insinuating Nature; yet this is made the shining Virtue of our Heroes we are to rejoice in their success, or pity their Disappointments, as Noble Lovers, Patterns for our imitation, not as Instances of human Frailty, and I fear this has not been so constantly done without ill consequence; not but Love will maintain his Dominion in the World how muchsoever opposed, but if we resign him the heart, let us not give up the Judgement too. On these Reflections I composed this Tragedy, in which the principal Characters are indeed doting Lovers, but hurried by their Passion into a Fault of which their immediate punishment makes them conscious, and at once deserve their Sufferings and our Pity. This (I cannot forbear taking notice by the way) though given by our great Master as an inviolabe Law in this sort of Poem, is yet observed by few without which though they may give Delight, they can rarely attain that End to which the other should only be Subservient of forming an Instructive Moral.  
What can I say, my Lord, in excuse for intruding my Remarks before so exact a Judge, when that which is my only motive to it makes it a Presumption, the Authority of your Lordship's Judgement, for were it lesle I could not have my End; If the Dramatic rules were justly observed, the Stage would soon retreive that Credit which the abuses of it has I fear with too great reason lost, and be again a useful Entertainment; which as I very much wish, I know not a Surer means to effect, than by proposing the method our Poets have taken, to your Lordship's decisive Sentence, which would have more force than all the severest Harangues of the Pulpit; we are apt to Suspect Men of a particular Proffession, of over Zeal, or   

To the Excellent Mistress Catherine Trotter.  
As when Aurora's graceful Blushes Cheer, With gentle beams, the glimmering Hemisphere, Faint are her glances, and her feeble fire, Compels not saucy Critic to retire; Her week efforts small Victery can boast, And her slight Charms but warm us as the most.  

Mistress Phillips.  This like the Morning Star Orinda risen A Champion for her Sex, and wisely choose, Conscious of Female Weakness, humble ways TO insinuate for applause, not storm the Bays. 
Mistress Behn  Next gay Astrea briskly wone the Prize, Yet left a spacious room to Criticise.  
But when bright Phæbus gilds the Orb around, And from Olympus strikes the distant ground, With rays of glory, whose refulgent light, Dazzle the shallow Optics of our sight, By the strong force of excellence alone the might Deity erects his Throne, And by Sublimer faculties is known.  
Like him bright Maid thy great Perfections shine, As awful, as resplendent, as divine; Like him thy soul in its Cælestial frame, Darts forth as pure, as vigorous a flame; And in the full Meridian you sit, With Sov'raign power of Beauty, and of Wit; And as the dimmer Tapers of the Skies, Veil when the more transcendent God does rise, So those precedent Lamps withdrew their light Timely to do thy wondrous Genius right. Myrtle and Bays about thy Temples twine, Placed by Apollo, and the Sacred Nine, And every Grace, and every virtue's thy. By thy judicious Rules the Hero learns To vanquish Fate, and wield his Conquering Arms; The bashful Virgin to defend her heart, The prudent Wife to scorn dishonest Art, The Friend sincerity; temperance the Youth, The Lover Chastity, and Statesman Truth. Within thy bosom all these Treasures devil, Nor can we jusdge in which you most excel. So perfect even Envy you control Minerva and Diana guard your Soul.  
Sarah Pierce   

THE Unhappy Penitent.   

ACT I  

Scene. The King's Antichamber.  Enter Brisson and Du Croy. Brisson 
'Twas politicly done, I must admire Madam of Bourbon Art; well might she fear Her power with the King, alone too weak For Margarite's Charms, whose Presence may revive That Love which Absence helped her to destroy.  Du Croy 
'Twas therefore doubtless, she so pressed our Duke To bring the Princess Ann, his Daughter, hither; But is it to be thought the King will sand Marg'rite of Flanders home, to whom he has been So many Years contracted, the King of the Romans, Her Father, would not doubt highly resent th'Affront.  Bris. 
'Twould be strange indeed, having from her infancy Been bread in France, and ever since this Charles Came to the Crown she has been titled Queen: The King himself is just strict to his Word Where e'er engaged, but of an easy Nature, Distrusting his own Judgement, whilst so Young He let's himself be governed by his Sister, And others of the Council he relies on, And all oppose this Match.  Du Croy 
Th'event will soon be known, th'Arch-Duke of Austria Being here in Person, they can protract not longer.  Bris. 
He expresses much Affection for his Sister, And seems not pleased with the King's usage of her; These several Years they been of Age to Mary: And than his staying the two last at Lions, Without once sending to her, looks but ill.  Du Croy. 
And his return to Paris may be suspected, Whilst Ann, Heiress of Brittany, is here.  Bris. 
I think  seen each other at your Court; The King was there some time.  Du Croy. 
And 'twas observed, She ever since has spoken of him with pleasure, Owned she admired, and would with joy embrace Any occasion of again conversing, With that Great, Young Monarch.  Bris. 
Yet, there's appearance Of a strict Friendship betwixt her and Marg'rite.  Du Croy. 
'Tis certainly sincere, she has a Soul Above deciet, and will be fond of this New Triumph for her Honour; to that she makes Her Love, Ambition, all her Passions, yield; Not as opposing Foes, to conquering Virtue, As Slaves already vanquished, so easily they obey.  Bris. 
You speak a Wonder, in a Lady, and so Young.  Du Croy. 
'Tis true, sometimes the Duke condemns her for it, Tells her DissemblingDissembling's needful to a Prince, Whose End should be Interest and Greatness only; Still she persists, yet says she is ambitious, But 'tis of being Great within herself, Not in her Titles, or Possessions.  Bris. 
She needs not any, thus pictured is she greater Than the Dominion of the Would could make her.  Du Croy. 
And yet methinks, a few of those nice Notions Were not ill bartered for the Crown of France.  Bris. 
Shortly we shall know how she esteems it, If they persuade the King to make the Offer.  Du Croy. 
Be they successful, for the future peace Of Brittany. Think you the King's yet stirring?  Bris. 
I thought e'er this he would have left his Chamber: This way he passes, but perhaps he's tired With his Journey that he out-sleeps his Hour.  Du Croy. 
'Twill be a glorious Court, so many Princes Gracing it.  Bris. 
And a diverting one; The King being just returned, after an absence Of two Years, all will be emulous Of Entertaining him, with Music chief, 'Tis his darling pleasure. He's coming now.  Enter the King, Madam of Bourbon, Graville, Du Law, etc. Madam of Bourbon with him on th'other hand, Graville, Du Lau two of the Privy Council, Who have most power with him. King 
Thus circled by such Subjects, these Oracles of Wisdom; The Prudence and Affection of a Sister, I have in Youth all the Advantages Of most experienced Monarches.  Gra. 
I'll not decline this Praise to have observed And learnt, by all the Troubles in the Reign Of Lowis, your great Father, how t'advise Both for you Majesty's, and your Kingdom's Interest.  Mad. 
If I fail, 'twill be in want of Prudence Not of Love, and seconded by these, I dare pronounce the Match we have proposed, A wife and happy Choice.  Du Lau. 
Much, Sir,  herded Of the Disturbances which Brittany Gave to your Father's life, so will it you, If not secured in peace by Marrying The Heiress of that Provence.  King. 
And so involve myself in guilty War, Unjustly to defend a Breach of Faith.  Gra. 
There is not, Sir, on that side any danger; the King of the Romans is too weak t'attempt Aught against you, and too well love's his Money T'engage in an expensive fruitless War, But barely to revenge your slighting Marg'rite.  Du Lau. 
Her Brother has lesle Power, since you possess The greatest part of that Dominion With which their Grandfather, last Duke of Burgundy, Was long a formidable Foe to France; Till at last in raising and extending His own Fame, he ruined and depressed His Family, scarce left 'em to inherit Aught but his glorious Name.  King. 
Yet they'll have Heaven And Justice on their side.  Gra. 
You wrong 'em not; Nor can you break a Contract which you made not: 'Twas by your Father in your Infancy. When 'twas as necessary for his Interest, As now it is for yours t' evade the Match; And Princes aught, in Marriage, to consider Interest of State alone.  King. 
Thus far I 've followed Your judicious Counsels to defer My Marriage, till time had ripened me for judging; And lest I should be swayed by Inclination, Sister, on your Advice I did absent From Marg'rite, whose Charms might bias stronger Judgements; And now return with all th' indifference Required for a just impartial Choice: But Honour shall direct me, and as with that I can, I will comply. in what you offer.  Mad. 
Brother, I question not but you will own.  not consulted only for your Interest; That Ann of Brittanie's a Blessing, worthy To fill the noblest Heart: But you have seen her.  King. 
With little observation, but as obliged In Ceremony at her Father's Court, For all my thoughts were centred than on Marg'rite. Sir, I'm ashamed your Highness should prevent me, [Enter the Duke of Brittany. I had designed, by waiting on you first, To show how highly I esteem the Honour You, and your beauteous Daughter do our Court.  Brit. 
'Tis a Respect she owed your Royal Sister.  Mad. 
A favour I entreated, and have hopes T'enrich the Crown of France with fuch a Jewel.  King. 
Its lustre would indeed but set of hers, An Ornament she merit's, though needing none.  Brit. 
Such as she is with her, your Majesty May have at present what Places in the Provence You shall think fit to Choose; at my Decease all Britain is yours.  King. 
We shall consult on't.  Brit. 
Has your Majesty determined yet, Aught of the Duke of Lorrain's Pretensions? Four Years are now expired, in which you promised To discuss his Title to Provence.  King. 
They assure me 'twas impartially considered As I charged it should, and that they find The Right by which I claim it to be strongest.  Brit. 
I doubt it not; but give me leave thus far To Interest myself (as to the Duke  undertaken) t'entreat you would dispatch All his Affairs, and what Assistances You're pleased to give him for his Expedition Into Naples; daily, he's solicited From the Nobility, t'accept the Gift His Holiness has made home of that Crown, And hasten to relieve 'em from th'oppression Of their Tyrant; he only waits to know Your Resolution,  King. 
The Duchy of Bar already is delivered; (What he can justly claim, I would not make So ill an use of Power as to keep from him:) Nor shall he stay one moment for the Aid I promised him, all's ready to attend him, This day, if he think fit.  Brit. 
So I'll Inform him.  Mad. 
Sir, th'Arch-Duke of Austria. [Ent. Austria attended]  King. 
A Prince Whom my desire to see, winged me to Paris. Heir to the Virtues of the Gallant Charles of Burgundy, whose Spirit by the Mother Was conveyed to this Young Duke, in whom All that was great of him's revived.  Aust. 
He should have left me than A larger Provence t'exertthat Greatness in; Unless perhaps mine is a harder Task, And needs the braver Soul, to suffer Wrongs, Which he had power to hinder, or revenge.  King. 
It served but to created him Enemies. Not so much feared, in France, as he was hated; Where you, Sir, are a welcome Guest, beloved, and honoured.  Aust. 
My Sister too is Honoured much in Words, Your subjects call her Queen.  King. 
And I believe In every thing respect her, as she were Queen.  Aust. 
I think, 'tis Sir, her due.  King. 
Her Merit claims it.  Aust. 
To her Rank, I meant. Thou yet your Nuptials are not Solemnised At which, since unperformed, I'm pleased I shall be present.  King. 
Some time will be required to resolve in.  Aust. 
Resolve! On what? Are you stongly tied; Already in Possession of her Dowry?  King. 
What was deliver'ed, Sir, on that Conditition, If I perform it not, shall be returned.  Aust. 
Is't possible! Dare you affronted her thus! Thou this with cause my Sister apprehended, I'd not believe a King could be so base  King. 
Take care Young Prince I would not break with you The Laws of Hospitality, or Friendship, But reflect not on my Honour, of that I an myself best judge, and know to govern My own Actions.  Aust. 
You cannot, Poor precarious Prince, these are your Sovereign's, Without whose Leave, you dare not to be just.  King. 
What e'er they are, I shall not ask your Leave, To do what I think fit.  Aust. 
Not, you believe you may securely wrong me, Whilst you're possessed unjustly of that Right, By which my Predecessors awed your France; But know you shall not unrevenged add this Injustice; 'Twill be the common cause of all brave Princes, Whose Dignity is struck at, in this Affront To one of equal rank; dread the effect When Power is added to a Soul as daring As that Charles, who made a greater Man [Ex. Austria cum suis] Than you, your father Lowis tremble.  King. 
I an not to be threatened from my purpose.  Brit. 
These Words would at an Army's head sound well, They're weakness in a Prince, who can but threaten.  King. 
Had he united all the Power of Europe. He might give Laws to France, but never to it's King; I take my Subject's Counsel; that Prince who will not Be advised, forgets he is a Man, As he that will be governed does that he's a King.  Mad. 
Brother, I think you, or the Duke of Austria, Forget you are a King, that thus unguarded, In your own Dominion, he speaks so boldly.  King. 
That's his Safety, but he's truly Brave, Somewhat I think too hot, and rash, he seems So I have herded him Charactered, impatient Of the least intended Injury, And from a bore appearance apt to conclude A real one; though now we must confess He has just cause.  Gra. 
You both have reason, Sir, The Duke to be enraged, your Majesty To give him the occasion, 'tis against His Interest, therefore he is concerned, You, Sir, have greater 'Cause to consult yours, In whose a Nation's Safety is involved.  Du Lau 
Graville. Has drawn a just Conclusion, Sir, The Example is instructive, your motive is The same against, as his is for the Marriage; If than the Duke's Resentment'sreasonable, So, Sir, the cause of it must be from you.  King. 
My Resolution shall be soon determined; This I promise', passion shall not sway me. 'Tis time I visit both the Princesses Let Music be prepared to entertain 'em. Will your Highness bear me Company?  Brit. 
I an to see the Duke of Lorraine this Morning, To let him know your Majestyed intentions.  King. 
My Subjects good shall be my chief concern. But as befits a Monarch, their Noblest Interest, Which he alone consults, and knows to prize, Who dares the test to Honour, Sacrifice.  [Ex. King etc. Manent Brittany and Du Croy] Du Croy. 
The Duke of Lorraine is much indebted To the Zeal your Highness shows to serve him.  Brit. 
O Du Croy, I have found my happy Rival; Did I not tell thee when with needful caution, I sounded Marg'rites thoughts th' indifference She showed for the King's infidelity, Gave me some hopes, but dashed with stronger fears; Some other secret Love must be the cause, Lorrain's my Rival, blessed beloved Lorraine.  Du Croy. 
And therefore you take pains to make him great, And worthier of your Mistress.  Brit. 
Therefore he must be go on any terms, Before the King declares he will desert her; And my appearing Friendship gains me his Trust, By which I shall have means to disappoint. What e'er designs Love may inspire him with; Let him succeed unenvied in ambition.  Du Croy. 
But has your Highness searched her heart enough, To be sure you shall succeed Lorraine.  Brit. 
I have as carefully concealed my Passion From Margarite, as from all others knowledge. And look that not a Whisper of it scape thee; Should the King but suspect I had thoughts that way, Fear I might give another Heir to Britanny, Would stop the intended Marriage with my Daughter, Which when performed, and as I must contrive, Lorraine removed, what have I left to fear; By both abandoned. 

For Honour and Revenge she'll mine approve,  
Rather than bear the Brand of slighted Love   [Exeunt.    

ACT TWO  
Enter the Duke of Lorraine, Duke of Britain, and two Neapolitan Lords. Lor. 
I Will not take an Obligation. From one that has denied me Justice.  Brit. 
Not to procure the means to right yourself? When you're possessed of Naples, the King of France May be compelled to give you back Provence.  Lor. 
And with what Honour could I turn against him, That power which I should own to his Assistance; Not Britanny, Naples without his Aid, Shall be relieved, and than without reproach I may in Arms assert and clear my Title.  1. Lord 
Great Sir, the Fleet waits you at Genoa, With what Power his Holiness could sand you To secure his Gift, which with the Party Of our own Countrymen that will join with you, (Whose Resolution nothing can add to But your presence) doubt not you'll find sufficient.  2. Lord. 
The whole Body of our Nobility Expect you, as the Soul to antimate 'em; But grow impatient of your long delay, And sand you word by us, unless you suddenly Appear in their defence, they'll be constrained To make their Peace with Ferrand, our Oppressor.  Lord. 
My Lords, so much I own to the Affection Your Country has expressed for me, to wish I may procure it liberty under Your present King, since in all Revolutions, What ever particular Grievances are eased, The Public ever suffers.  2. Lord. 
Too well we know The Tyrant's Nature, and have too far provoked him To trust him, or exqect he'll e'er forgive us.  1. Lord. 
On you, our Eyes, our Hopes, our Hearts, are fixed, Nor can you, Sir, reject us as a Gift; Which at your choice you might accept or not, You by our common Father as a Blessing Are given to us, and as our right we claim you.  Lor. 
It grieves me they so much depend on one Too weak, much to depend upon himself; But to my power your hopes shall be effected, And with what hast my Destiny permits.  1. Lord. 
Your Destiny waits, Sir, and calls for you.  Lor. 
My Lords, this is you know the Queen's Apartment. I an obliged t'attend her, that Duty paid, At mine you shall be farther Satisfied.  2. Lord. 
We'll wait on your return. [Exeunt Lords  Brit. 
Why seems the Great Lorraine thus irresolved And pensive? When his ripe Fate tempts him to pluck, And bending to his Hand court's him to Action; Does it become a Man Elected, By the general Voice a glorious King, The Scourge of Tyranny.  Lor. 
Not Brittany But it becomes a Slave, such as Lorraine; Honour, Revenge, Ambition, all my Passions Obey a stronger power, or rather I An all one passion, in which the rest, like weaker Flames Attracted by a raging Fire, are lost, And undistinguished, burn but to increase Their wild Devourer.  Brit. 
Ambition, nor Revenge; It must be Love than, makes you seem neglectful Of Honour; nay, give me leave to add, of Duty.  Lor. 
Look on me as another Antony, Who lost the World to follow Cleopatra.  Brit. 
His Life too, and his Fame, unpitied died; And since condemned by all Posterity; Are you Ambitious to be so recorded?  Lor. 
Justly he was Condemned, Whose choice was much unworthy such a Sacrifice, One whose prostituted, wanton Love, Had spread her Name with Infamy, Far as his Power and Fame which filled the Globe, Ill I compared myself, I could not cherish Such a Shameful Passion.  Brit. 
Are you so nice? 'Tis well he is so, this may serve my purpose. [aside  Lor. 
But to lose one whose Spotless Virtue, whose Love, Whose Constancy, whose Worth, outweighs the Worlds?  Brit. 
Why must you lose her? Will not the Crown of Naples, Be worthy of this Miracle's Acceptance?  Lor. 
OH there is a danger! But if you wish me This Elected King, you may assist me, You say you are my Friend, and in this Cause You must be so, our Interests are united; Hasten your Daughter's Marriage with the King, On that my Peace, my Fortune, Life depends; For without that, I fear Margarite will never be mine.  Brit. 
This Marg'rite of Flanders, the intended Queen?  Lor. 
She Britanny, unnamed you well might guests 'Tis She I dote on thus.  Brit. 
Wherhfore should this Detain you? Were it not Noble to present A Kingdom, in exchange for that She loses? Nor doubt the King will leave her, of myself This day he asked my Daughter.  Lor. 
I dare not trust my Fate with what's so dear to me, Let it dispose of Kingdoms—— I an immoveable till she's secured.  Brit. 
Than as I truly wish you great, Lorraine, [En. Du Croy I'll use my utmost power to make you so—  Du Croy. 
'Tis well— Came you in search of me? A word in private—  herded you say you'd Skill In counterfeiting written Characters, Suppose you tried it on the King's, as I shall dictate?  Du. Cr. 
Your Highness may Command me.  Brit. 
Attend me than, I'll give you an Original of his Hand— (to Lor.) He tells me the King desires a Conference In private with me, it happens luckily; Believe my Friend I'll serve you with a zeal Beyond your wishes, since I find you thus resolved.  Lor. 
'Tis kind to pity what you disapprove; I an past Advice, indeed.  Du Cr. 
 please your Highness', the Queen. [En. Mag'rite  Brit. 
I must retire. [Ex. Britanny and Du Croy]  Lor. 
The Queen, so 'twas he'd call you. Madam.  Mar. 
They think to fawn, and please me with the Title, Which none knows how much I both disdain. And dread, but he that has unlocked my heart, And seas it's in most thoughts.  Lor. 
OH Margrite!  Mar. 
You seem disturbed.  Lor. 
And you are calm, OH did you Love, Could you be thus, and see a danger near Of losing what you love!  Mar. 
What danger mean you;  Lor. 
Is not the King returned?  Mar. 
Should that disorder me?  Lor. 
If he should claim his Right of Contract with you?  Mar. 
'Tis forfeited, does not his strange behaviour, In two Years Absence not once sending to me; His long deferring of our Marriage, And the Proposal has been made to Ann Of Britanny, which from herself I know; Does it not prove his Infidelity? And free me from an Obligation, for which I long resisted that impulse, that Sympathy, That unseen Power, that in spite of me Had made you Master of my Heart, which now With Pleasure I submit to;  Lor. 
But is''t impossible—— OH forgive my fears, And if they're guilty, blame my too much Love; Can I reflect that all that tenderness That makes my happiness once blessed another. And not fear the flame but stifled, may Revive to my Destruction?  Mar. 
How often (to Silence this ungrateful Jealousy) Must I repeat, I never loved this Charles? Till I see you never known what 'twas to Love, But being bread from Infancy together, And looking on him as my destined Husband, I cherished what esteem he seemed to merit, Which than (not knowing one could prefer, Nor having felt a stronger Passion) I Imagined Love; yet he perceived my coldness, And often complained that all pomell did, or said, Was with Deliberation, that at our parting. Or on the greatest exigence, he never Could see me moved; beyond my coolest temper; I said 'twas Nature, a defect of Fire; And so I thought it, Is it so Lorraine? An I insensible?  Lor. 
OH, I must own, With Pride, whatI've with Extasiy beheld! Yes, I have seen you, when after a long Absence, OH let me say we met with equal Fires! That I have seen you for a moment lost, Your melted Eyes confessed a Soul inflamed And doubled all my Transports!  Mar. 
OH had my Soul been charmed before, as now, Could it have e'er received a new impression? If you Lorraine should prove like him, unfaithful, Think you I e'er could love another thus?  Lor. 
'Tis Ecstasy to hear you.  Enter the Duke of Austria Aus. 
I an not Grandson to the Noble Burgundy, If this pass unrevenged.  Mar. 
What offends you Brother?  Aus. 
 seen this Charles, and find him as you thought, The Stain of Royalty; one that descends To Actions, the meanest of his Slaves will blush In the repeating.  Mar. 
Has he than declared——  Aus. 
As to me he dared— that he should dare But think such a Dishonour, to my Sister! Our House be ever branded with the Infamy, If I forgive him.  Lor. 
He more deserves your pity, than your anger, Who throws a Jewel of such value from him, Unknowing of it's worth,  Aus. 
He must be taught it than, and punished for his folly, Lorraine if you're that Friend you have professed, Or if you love my Sister, as you seem, You'll join with me to do her noble Justice.  Lor. 
To ruin all my hopes, and force my Rival To what moft I dread! OH Austria, think The King's Offence, is what alone can give Your Friend the smallest hope of ever being happy.  Aus. 
Think not I'll ever condescend to give him What he could once doubt, if he should accept; Should he lay all his power at her Feet 'Twould not atone, so much I find him now Unworthy of her, I disdain the Alliance; Take her Lorraine— But with her, make her Injuries your own.  Lor. 
How have you blessed me!— When, what must be done? Command my Sword, my Life, I an all yours.  Aus. 
Hast to possess yourself in peace of Naples, Than we'll consult of War.  Lor. 
But might I first secure this greatest Blessing.  Aus. 
'Tis certain, the Affairs of that distressed Nation, Are reduced to such Extremity, They need your speediest Aid; I wish  not Deferred too long already.  Lor. 
This day, Madam, if you consent, may set My Happiness out of the reach of Fortune.  Aus. 
Since I know your heart, Sister, to save your blushes I'll have it so, this day, secure a Union, Which I, as much as either of you, joy in.  Mar. 
'Tis my Duty, Brother, to obey you. But I entreat it may be kept concealed, Till the King's Purpose publicklv be known.  Aus. 
'Tis prudently advised, I'll dispose My Chaplain for the Secret, and what else Is needful with caution must be managed.  Lor. 
I trust to you, my Brother, OH you must Contrive, Instruct, do all, for I an yet Too much transported, to deliberate. [Enter Ann of Britanny  Mar. 
The Princess Ann! in this important Moment Appears the truest Friend, the perfectest Of all her Sex; blessed be the happy Omen.  Ann. 
Confirm it Fate, what ever th'occasion be.  Mar. 
One that portends not ill to my fair Rival, Thou it may prove of consequence to you, Therefore to you alone it shall be trusted.  Aus. 
Lorraine, ourselves must be employed on this occasion; We may with freedom speak before this Lady; Does ought remain we have not yet considered?  Lor. 
Enough, enough, dear Austria we lose time, Away, let's hast, forgive me, Madam, That I an as impatient now to leave you, As I have used to be in flying to you; I known we met but for short joys before, But part this once, that we may part not more [Ex. cum Austria  Mar. 
What Blessings could the Crown of France have given me. Equal to such a heart!  Ann. 
And yet I hope, You'd part with that, rather than slain your Honour, Not Wed Lorraine, rather than not deserve him.  Mar. 
Intent you to accuse me? I an not conscious to myself of guilt.  Ann. 
We own our care first to be justified To our own Thoughts, next to the Worlds; I would not have my Friend give an occasion For Malice to reproach her, may not the King T'excuse himself, lay the first breach on you?  Mar. 
Therefore we shall conceal our Marriage, Till he declare his Falsehood.  Ann. 
Innocence needs not such close Coward Arts, As much the punishment of guilt, as it's Security; not Marg'rite, with Actions Fair, and open, as you know 'em just, Upbraid the Crime, that shames him to dissembling.  Mar. 
To what would you direct me? Thou best guide, And Pattern of Perfection, which I would follow, But with Passion blinded, may need your aid To lead me, more than the Bright Example.  Ann. 
I would advice you instantly writ to the King, Tell him that since you are informed he means not To perform his Contract, you resolve To give yourself by your own inclination; But wait his answer, for your liberty.  Mar. 
Should he not grant it?  Ann. 
Have you a doubt of that, Yet have consented to another Marriage?  Mar. 
I have not cause to doubt, unless accusing Move him to repent, and fear t' occasion What doubly must afflict me, to lose Lorraine, And hinder you of a Possession, you better merit. And would be happier with, than I could ever.  Ann. 
Think not I could be happy in possessing What I known owing to the Faithlessness, And Infamy of him that shared it with me; Thou were the King so honourably great As once he seemed, (though not this mighty Monarch) I would have choose him from the rest of Princes, How ever in Power, or Dignity, Superior, But cannot love, what I must cease to value; OH do not lessen that I have for you, Take the Opinion of a Friend unbiased, Who has advised not more than what she thinks your Duty.  Mar. 
What were too great to hazard for so glorious An Esteem! This moment I'll obey you.  Ann. 
Be Mistress of yourself, and firm to Virtue, So cherish, and reward my affection, that I may never My choice in this dear Friendship disapprove, As I despise the Man I most could love, [Ex. several    

ACT III  

Scene. Marg'rite's Apartment.  Enter the King, Mad. de Bourbon, Brisson and Attendants. Bour. 
YET, Sir, ever you advance, ever she appear, Grant me thus far, not to engage your word; Think on your Loyal Subjects earnest Prayers, Think we can have not end in our advice, But that which should be yours; shall I prevail?  King. 
Not give my word, can I be more engaged? By many Vows t'assure her I approved My Father's choice, I have confirmed his promise; Justly she upbraids me, I'm angry with myself For once deliberating on an Action, Which when her Letter did but gently mention, I could not read without a blush of Shame.  Bour. 
Can it be a guilt in you, to grant The liberty she asks? Are you obliged When she confesses another inclination?  King. 
If it be so, I only an to blame; But that perhaps is hinted but to try me.  Bour. 
Than she dissembles with you.  King. 
Not, I ever found her plain, and artless, It must be true, some one who more deserved her She has blessed; who can have charmed that heart Not easily, or violently moved; Scarce did it seem t'ave warmth enough for Love.  Bour. 
That which you thought indifference might be than Some prepossession.  King. 
Not, you wrong her, Sister, There was an open frankness in her kindness, That showed it (though not passionate) was entire, So had it ever been had I been just.  Bour. 
Suppose it would, can you not condescened To take her Person, whilst her heart's another's?  King. 
I must with assiduity, with truth, And Love, retrieve it. Not more of your persuasions.  Enter Ann of Britain, attended. Bour. 
Most opportunely Ann of Britanny Is here- than, Brother, let this Lady pled.  King. 
There's Eloquence indeed in Beauteous Eyes; And here's are wondrous charming! They strike, and move me With a strange disorder, something I have not felt; OH hid that dangerous Beauty! Which might shake A Stoics virtue, or tempt a second Adam To break his Covenant, and forfeit Paradise To find a more delightful one in you!  Ann. 
If I had Beauty, Sir, or any Power, I would employ it in the cause of Virtue, Not against her; and I rejoice she's kept You on her side, as I must hope, finding You in the Queen's Apartment.  King. 
Does that rejoice you? 'Twas cruel to declare it.  Ann. 
Is it cruel, Sir, to be solicitous For your Glory? It speaks a value for you, Else I had seen your Actions with indifference.  King. 
O Madam, we acquit ourselves to honour well, In sacrificing for it with reluctance What we value, when with joy we part, It seems more for aversion, than for virtue.  Ann. 
A noble heart dreads nothing more than finding The choice it made unworthy, and seas with pleasure It's inclination justified by merit, Thou to the loss of what was dearest to it.  King. 
Dared I apply those tender pleasing Words; How well would they reward whatever Sacrifice Were needful to confirm that valuable Inclination: Let me indulge The flattering thought those Words were meant to me.  Ann. 
my Inclination, Sir, as you're engageed Can be of little consequence to know.  King. 
It wrongs not what I own to any other, To ask how far it might have favoured me, had I been free.  Ann. 
Search not with useless curiosity, What were for both better concealed for ever.  King. 
You have not thoughts that should be hide, they're Noble all; And I would Prize myself upon the knowledge; You ever bestowed a favourable one on me.  Ann. 
True, I have not a thought can raise a blush, Why should they eat the Light? Not, I will tell you, whilst your Majesty Honoured my Father's Court, something I observed So Noble in your Soul; nay, I confess too, Somewhat pleasing in your Person, in all your Action, That could have touched my heart, had yours been free, Nearer than any Prince I ever known.  King. 
O, there's a Charm in those soft words that might Dissolve the strongest Ties, make me forget All Obligations. Lost in the pleasure to be loved by you, And unknown Transports of a mutual Flame.  Ann. 
O, Sir, let not what I have expressed seduce Your Virtue, could you be tempted from your Faith To Heaven and Marg'rite, not all the shining Glories Of your Crown, nor soft Insinuations Of your Love, should bribe me from my just Disdain, Of a dishonourable and impious Alliance, and undeserving of my Esteem; Were my Affection rooted with Life inseparable, I'd tear 'em up together.  King. 
There is a greatness In your Nature that delights and fires me With emulation, sure our Souls have been Acquainted, or were created for each other: How fond I an of regulating mine By such a glorious Model. Yes, Madam, To preserve your heart I will for ever lose you. Hast Brisson, inform the Queen I'm here [Exit Brisson. To wait on her hasten; hasten her to th'assistance Of my Virtue, for mine is yet but struggling To that height above the reach of Storms, Where unmolested by tempestuous Passions You are sedately fixed.  Ann. 
Now you maintain Your highest Character, the awful Image Of a Divine Original Which we Obey and Reverence in Kings, And as you prise the Sacred Stamp be constant To yourself.  Bour. 
Was ever so fantastic An Agreement against their mutual Wishes, There can be now not hopes. [Enter Marg'rite.  King. 
That you had cause to reproach me I confess, For 'twas a Crime to waver in my Choice; But if a free Acknowledgement, and firm Repentance; Stands with Heaven instead of Innocence, I have that Title to obtain your Pardon.  Mar. (Aside.) 
'Tis as I feared.  King. 
You turn away in silence: Is my Offence too great to be forgiven? I have appealed yet only to your Goodness, And would not pled t'excuse what I have done, Else I might urge a Nation's good, Of weight sufficient to suspend my thoughts; And if thus far I have let myself be governed By those who'd watchful for my Interest, not sooner I resume myself than I return To Honour, and to you.  Mar. 
Sir, since your Subjects have so far prevailed I now entreat you'll not consider me In prejudice of them, or your own Inclination, Freely I release you.  King. 
Than I'm indeed unhappy, The just Reproaches that I dreaded from you, Would not have been so cruel as this Coldness.  Mar. 
The sense your Majesty seems touched with of my Wrongs, Obliges me in honour not to deceive you; I sincerely own your past Behaviour Has quite estranged you to my affection.  King. 
I know  ever had but little interest in it, As in my happiest days I had cause to fear, Which this Confirms, you could not else so easily Withdraw it.  Mar. 
I had kindness for you once Sufficient to make my Duty easy; enough You filled my heart t' exclude all others thence Which now I dare not promise'.  King. 
OH Madam, I could never boast that power, Which you insinuate some other has, Whatever place you allowed me in your heart, You kept yourself the absolute Command; How must if grieve me than to find, You could submit it to such a ruling Passion, That now you dare not promise' for it's Conduct.  Mar. 
You'll find a Sovereign Cordial for your grief, In that fair Princes; nay, blush not, Sir, nor be confused, You may with reason glory in the change, And all Mankind approve your nobler choice  King. 
The slight disorder you with cause remarked Was, I confess, raised by a conscious thought, Of an Emotion sudden and unusual, I found in meeting first this Lady here; But O, the anxious pains I feel, to think You love another shows me you're dearer to me Than myself Imagined.  Mar. 
Th'Effect of Pride, Disdaining what we once possessed though in itself Not valued, should be forced from us it seems T'upbraid our weakness with a stronger power, Or want of merit by the preference. But, Sir, our Loves are by caprice, or fate, And ours 't is plain directed from each other.  King. 
Yet once you say your heart was mine entirely; And what I only lost by my neglect, I'll not despair my future Services, My truth, and perseverance, may regain. Can Music charm, and soften your resentment? Let it begin— Music can all the Passions calm, or raise, And whilst it melts, and kindles you to love, I'll watch your Eyes, and the soft Flame improve. They sit, Music than all rise. After the Music. I'll not abuse your generous confidence, But nobly will dispute you with Lorraine, Let him who love's you best the Prize obtain; Mean time that to your Honour you'll be just, And to my generous Advocate, I trust.  Ex. cum suis Manent, Mar. and Ann.. Mar. 
All leave the Room— (To her Woman. OH Madam, what have you done! How miserable Have you made me!  Ann. 
Could you have justified Your Marriage to your own thoughts, knowing Your Contract with the King is still in force?  Mar. 
The King was false, is false, and this is but a plot In him, in you, and all Mankind, to plague, And force the guilt on me.  Ann. 
Madam, I wished The King would have consented to release you, That both might so acquit yourselves with honour; But scorn the baseness of the thought you mention, You know not how to prise a real Friend.  Mar. 
Cruel Friend! Will you deny me this poor privilege, To rail, to rave, to grieve, when I an wretched!  Ann. 
Forgive me, you indeed have greatly cause, Just in the view of happiness, to lose it!  Mar. 
Aye, there's the aggravation! But o, not only To be snatched from bliss, but than condemned To endless torments, another's loathed embraces! 'Tis too much for mortal bearing! Whirlwinds Rather drive me hence— Or blast me with some horrible infection, To make me hateful to his Eyes, as he's to mine; Come any horror, any Curse, but Marriage.  Ann. 
Have patience, time may work some happy Change, The King may be prevailed on to desist, Or you to love since he was once so blessed.  Mar. 
OH never, never, Lorraine has been too long A tender dear Companion to my heart, To leave it the lest relish for another, To let it know a Joy or peace without him: OH tell me how to eat this misery, I cannot bear it, not support the thought; I cannot live, and fear it.  Ann. 
Indeed 'tis sad yet better to be born, Than the reproaches of all the Just and Virtuous Of Mankind, or what's more terrible, The Stings of sharp remors for violated Vows Could you bear that, Consider—  Mar. 
I will consider; But let me first vent my extravangance, View my unhappiness in all its forms, And feel for each anticipated Torture, Than if they do not make me mad, or break my heart, I will consider.  Ann. 
Alas, I pity you, And half repent the counsel that occasioned Your Misfortune; do you forgive it i.  Mar. 
You did the duty of a Friend, I know you did; But leave me for a while to my distraction, I would alone indulge it to the height, Than 'twill abate, and brooding over my grief, You'll find me calm and gentle as a Dove, That only in soft mumurs, moans it's dear lost Mate.  Ann. 
May Heaven compose and guide your thoughts, Farewell. [Exit Ann..  Mar. 
Was ever a fate like mine, sure the first Wretch That by her Lover's truth has been undone, Many, complain of their perfidiousness, A common Vice, and natural to the Sex! But nature must be changed to ruin me, A Man could not continued false to leave me happy. Had he been always true, or still been false, But Contradictions reconcile to make me wretched, What hope t'avoid a fate that miracles Are wrought t'accomplish— And nothing lesle than Miracle can make me live and bear it. There's all my hope that it may wound to Death, Or turn me wild to frightful Savage fury, Or Stupify me till I'm grown insensible Of my Misfortunes, Alas, I rave, When calm Deliberation's necessary, Lorraine will soon be here in height of expectation, And impatience of our Wishes and I Must disappoint 'em. Fate is not that sufficient T'acquit me of the guilt of Perjury, But I must be another's, spare me that part of misery And let the Sacrifice I make atone, When I refuse to be myself the Victim; He's come, how shall I tell him our sad Doom! [Enter Lorraine  Lor. 
Now, now, my Princess,  secured our happiness: Out of the reach of Fate; let's fly my Love, In this propitious minute to our Bliss.  Mar. 
I cannot speak it, [aside.  Lor. 
OH do not dash my joy with reluctance; Love can dispel the coyest Virgin fears. Your Brother with a Priest is waiting in the Grove, And my desires too eager for delay.  Mar. 
OH Lorraine, do not rely too far On promised happiness least unforeseen Our flattering fate betray us, think when our joys Are highest we than are most in fortune's power, And most should fear some sudden turn t'allay Or quite destroy 'em, there can be here not full And yet continued Bliss.  Lor. 
Fortune may gratify Her loved Inconstancy on all my other Expectations, and chequer Life with various Disappointments, yet I shall find in you An overplus of good to rest my Soul on, That will compensate all secure of that I can bear all her mischiefs.  Mar. 
Is that secure.  Lor. 
We may this moment make it so; this moment Is our own.  Mar. 
OH not, have you not apprehensions, Yet but this Morning you were full of fears; The King might claim his Contract.  Lor. 
And you dispelled 'em? My confidence is firmly founded now Upon your Love and Truth.  Mar. 
OH did your happiness Depend on that Lorraine, how blessed were both; But I in vain have tenderness and truth If fate conspires against us.  Lor. 
Why do you alarm my Soul with causeless Terrors, It needs not to endear you in possession, Have I had any care, or fears, or hopes, Or aim but centred there, what need of this To heighten my desire.  Mar. 
Or had I e'er such Arts, would it were artful all, But there's, alas, a cause too great too real; The King has just been with me, exacts my Promise; And renews his Vows obstinately, Refusing to release me.  Lor. 
I thought that never Could be an Obstacle, when Austria had declared Not his Repentance should obtain you of him, But find your Love's weaker than his resentment, That I confess I had riot armed against.  Mar. 
OH that you could justly tax my want of Love, That it had not the power thus to divide me From myself; could raise not tumults in my Breast, But leave me without Struggling to my Duty, I were not than thus wretched.  Lor. 
Love in full vigour feels not opposition, Like Life at it's last ebb the very pangs It gives shows it expiring, Madam, be comforted, The pain's soon past, and a new Life succeeds Of greater pleasures, you'll in the King not doubt Find happiness.  Mar. 
Eternal misery, Add not to my Affliction by this unjust reproach I fear my Love's too strong that against Honour, Gratitude, all Obligations— OH, I feel it ever will contest To make my grief still fresh to give me ever This distracting Sense of what  parted with, Which nothing nothing else could forced me But fear to draw upon myself, and what Much more I dread, t'involve you in the guilt And punishment of breaking Sacred Vows.  Lor. 
To day you thought 'em cancelled, but 'tis your Sex's art To charge th'effects of your inconstancy On Conscience when e'er your fancy's Sated. Conscience is sure t'upbraid, and never fails To find a Plea for the new Inclination; Passion is all your Principle of Conscience, And Interest and Ambition of your Passions.  Mar. 
This from you, Lorraine.  Lor. 
Did I act thus, When Glory courted me, and offered Crowns, I slighted both, fool that I was— more fool To think a Woman could resist such Baits, Not to perceive I only was accepted On the King's neglecting you, and your pretended Love for me, but a despair of his.  Mar. 
I thank you, what Honour, Duty, All the King's submissions, or his merit, Could not effect this Insolence has done; And if I can't receive his Love with pleasure I shall be eased of mine; not more regret But proud I'm freed from what I now despise;  shown yourself, nor could have pictured me So vilely, had you not copied your own Soul: My heart disdains to harbour one that dared Admit thoughts so unworthy of it from thence, As from my sight I banish you for ever.  Lor. 
What have I done? OH stay— When Madmen lose their fury, on themselves, And hurt what's dearest to 'em, we are not angry, But we pity 'em; inhuman Marg'rite, You torture me till I'm deprived of reason, And than condemn for what my madness utters.  Mar. 
Your words, though far from, truth, seemed not so wild, As studied thoughtful malice.  Lor. 
OH had I thought The things I said, I had parted from you without Reproaching you as one not worthy my resentment; But to know you as you are divinely perfect, T'have raised my hopes to certainty of Bliss, And than, to lose you might tempt a Soul lesle fond Passionate to profane like me, and rail At things most sacred; forgive th' extravagance Of an impetuous despair.  Mar. 
Do not ask it.  Lor. 
Is that too much, mud I be loaded too With your disdain; alas, my Miseries Were before too heavy to support: Is''t not enough to see you torn for ever From me, the All of good I'd fixed my Soul on; But must you hate the Wretch you have undone.  Mar. 
OH talk not thus, suspect, despise me, rail again, 'Tis easier so to part; but can I see you With all this moving grief, and melting softness, And Ever think of parting: OH if the apprehension Be thus tormenting whilst you still are with me, What will it be when we s for ever parted.  Lor. 
You have forgiven me than, and do not hate me, But time and absence will set me distant to your thoughts, And Duty reconcile you to the King's affection, Which once was not displeasing: Whilst every sad reflection will aggravate my Grief, His happiness doubles my misery, To think him in possession of what I'm cursed To live without, blessed with your soft Society, Transported in your fond Embraces, every hour Of Day and Night charmed with some new endearing Tenderness. OH the distracting Vision! How will it torture all my Senses, gnaw On my bleeding heart, to add such wounding stings To my despair.  Mar. 
If thus for you to imagine, How much more terrible for me to bear: But let not that disturb you.  Lor. 
Indeed I aught not To disturb you with it, but from your sight Remove the Image I an now of wretchedness, And giving up myself in silence to my Fate, Let desperation work I feel 'twill soon Be its own remedy, Madam, farewell. Inquire not, I conjure you, what becomes Of lost Lorraine, lest it afflict you in in the hearing; Be blessed as Love and Empire joined can make you.  Mar. 
OH stay Lorraine, I cannot let you leave me In the thought I e'er can be another's; I may be forced from all that's dear to me, But Fate itself has not the power against My will to give me, on that rely, and judge it By my Love.  Lor. 
Sooth not my pain with vain Delusive hopes, 'twill make it but more sensible, By a new Disappointment.  Mar. 
'Tis not vain promise. But fixed resolution; nor If I would, Could I meet his Addresses, but with such loathing must dash his hopes, and cool the fiercest flame, oh not, Lorraine, when we 're for ever parted On that reflection bond thy Sorrows think I passed all my dismal hours lamenting, What  lost, have nothing else in life To do, or suffer, and that's, alas, too much; OH more than I can bear.  Lor. 
I never can be secure you'll not be his, Whilst there's a possibility you may; 'Twill tear my heart with agitating fears, Worse than the certainty of what I fear; But if you're truly thus resolved against him. Why may you not be mine? 'Tis a nice scruple, of not solid weight, What Injury to him, that I possess What he can never enjoy;  Mar. 
You need not Arguments, one tender look, One soft request, is more persuasive reason! They tell me we had never doted thus, Had Destiny not meant us for each other.  Lor. 
Than when it gave your heart, Fate Sealed you mine, For Love's a power uncontrollable, And will dispose you all, your heart is mine, Your lovely Eyes consent, your Tongue not more denies, Your fainting Body can resist not longer; OH if these pleasing signs of yielding, should Be false, how could I bear the sudden fall, From sach a height of unexpected joy! You cannot use such cruelty, When you have power to bless the Man you love! I tremble with my fears, and fierce desire; Speak, can you yet refuse?  Mar. 
I have not power.  Lor. 
You must not, the Priest without is ready, Love impatient.  Mar. 
And not to be withstood! I feel its force; We to be safe, the first Assault must fly, For who could thus be tempted, and deny itit [Exeunt.    

ACT IU.  

Scene. Marg'rite's Apartment.  Enter Duke of Britain, and Du Croy. Brit. 
YOu're certain he'll be here?  Du Croy. 
Unmarked I heard, The Duke of Austria agreed to meet him At his Sisters; Lorraine but stayed to leave Some Orders, as he told the Duke, with one Of his Attendance whom he could confided in, T'inform him here, if ought of moment happened.  Brit. 
They seem upon some secret of importances, I must not slip this opportunity, One Night's delay might frustrate my design.  done your part Du Croy, the Writing's Undistinguishable from the King's; And fortune too assists me, Lorrain's intending To be here, was luckily discovered For meeting me in Marg'rite's Apartment, Will with more probability impose On his belief, the Letter was for her.  Du Croy. 
Sir, I see him coming,  Brit. 
You retire— [Enter Lorraine (aloud) Observe my Orders; I wait the Princess Marg'rite's Leisure to be spoken with, on business which This Night must be effected.  Lord 
With Marg'rite, such pressing business! Britanny.  Brit. 
To serve a Friend, swift time it self's too slow.  Lor. 
What Service do you intent her?  Brit. 
For you my Friend, I an thus diligent, nay, for you both. The King you know sent by Du Croy this Morning To speak with me in private, he told me He was fixed on (terms we than agreed on) t' espouse my Daughter, but Margarite having written T'upbraid his change, he was obliged t'excuse Himself to her—  Lor. 
He see her since she written.  Brit. 
Not alone?  Lor. 
Not, many of his Court Attended him.  Brit. 
Therefore it seems, he had not Opportunity of speaking freely, But writes the reasons of his leaving her.  Lor. 
Since the Visit?  Brit. 
Now, by me, he asked If any of my Train might be relied on, To give the Letter safely to herself, For 'twas of consequence none else should see it, And his own Subjects were not to be trusted, Being all her Enemies; I offered him And would myself deliver it, earnest To bring her liberty, which alone I known was wanting, to secure her yours.  Lor. 
'Tis strange!— are you sure it brings her liberty? Did the King show you what he written?  Brit. 
He expressly told me the whole purpose of it, But engaged me, on my Faith, and Honour, How ever my curiosity might tempt me. To Search not farther the Particulars.  Lor. 
There's Mystery in this! 'Tis but few hours Since he professed fidelity to her, And claimed her for his Wife.  Brit. 
Ha!— a public Gallantry, a form Due to a Lady's Honour; they must not be forsaken.  Lor. 
I rather think the King abuses you. And for some Ends of Policy, keeps both In hopes; he had not feared to trust his Subjects,, But with such pretences to this Princess, As they oppose.  Brit. 
That seems probable.  Lor. 
And for what reason else should he so strictly Engage you not to inquire what it contains?  Brit. 
And I may be drawn into injure you, By my officious zeal t'advance your happiness  Lor. 
If you'd oblige me, Britanny trust me To give the Letter..  Brit. 
Than I betray the King.  Lor. 
If he deceives you, 'tis but justice; if not, It will be safe with me.  Brit. 
But if he— Or what if— I would willingly— but yet—  Lor. 
I could give you reasons were it fit That would convince you I aught to see it Before Marg'rite does.  Brit. 
I believe you, But than I gave my Honour not to pry Into the secret.  Lor. 
You need not.  Brit. 
You'll let me know, If he dissembles with me.  Lor. 
Certainly.  Brit. 
But methinks—  Lor. 
What? It concerns only one Who conceals nothing from me.  Brit. 
And you'll give it her?  Lor. 
Faithfully.  Brit. 
Yet—  Lor. 
Nay,  Brit. 
Well, take it. To keep my word, I'll leave you whilst you read it. How eagerly he snatches at the Poison [Ex. Britanny  Lor. 
If he persists to urge his right in her, Thou now too late, I an so tender of her quiet, I would not she should see it, or mingle with Our Bridal joys, the least uneasy thought. [Opens the Letter, and reads it to himself. Deceive Lorraine— sure my Eyes deceive me, Or the Lights are false— 'Tis the King's Hand, And here he owns his infidelity, Excuses it but what of me— (reads) necessity To break— my Kingdoms good— 'tis lower, here, But if you carefully deceive Lorraine, What cause have you to grieve at your past kindness, Which we ourselves alone, are conscious of— what means he Nor fear I ever will trust it from my thoughts, But those you grudge me, small pleasure I shall have In the remembering, I once was happy. By the dear possession of all those Charms. Which now must be another's— Damnation! King's are but splendid Slaves of Sat, As such consider, and forgive me, Charles. 'Tis sure some artifice! But whose? Or wherefore? The Duke of Britannie's's my Friend, nor is''t His Interest to design a breach betwixt me, And Marg'rite had the King aimed at that, He would not have entrusted him, who's injured by it! But might he not employ him without trusting? Perhaps— not, how could he than secure th'effect, It's falling in my hands was accidental, At my own request— but hold— how this Agrees with his refusing to release her Not three hours since?— he's strangely variable In his designs— 'twas but this very Morning He confessed to her Broihcr he would leave her— Ha! That proves more than all the rest against her, A change so sudden is improbable; She must have feigned it— perhaps to raise the value Of her gift to me by such a Sacrifice. These are the Arts of faithless, worthless Women, But Truth and Innocence, rich in itself, Not needing labours, not for Foreign Wealth OH she is false, dissembling, prostituted, The Words are plain th'authority unquestionable, And I have married her— She has, she has, indeed, deceived me well, How artfully she worked me to distraction! Should she know how I have found her falsehood, So cunningly she would evade the proofs, And look so lovely true, I should renounce My reason, and only trust my ravished Senses! OH why you Powers have you given that Sex Insinuating Charms to gain belief, And yet so little truth! damned, damned, Dissembler!  Enter Mag'rite. Mar. 
Why, my unkind Lorraine, have you thus long Stayed from me when so near? I could not bear it Longer, nor should you leave me to my thoughts, When you but look on me, you justify All I have done, or all I can do for you; But in your absence, such reflections rise As much disturb me, and for both our quiets I would for ever stifle.  Lor. 
What Power has Conscience!  Mar. 
You see disordered, something trouble's you.  Lor. 
I shall not discompose you with it, Madam. (going.  Mar. 
My Lord, you'll break my heart, if thus you leave me; What ever disturbs you, why to me this coldness? Have I deserved it of you?  Lor. 
Ask yourself that.  Mar. 
I need not, my Love's so nice, had I a thought That could displease you, 'twould upbraid me with it. Why do you talk thus? Wither are you going?  Lor. 
I care not, but from you for ever.  Mar. 
OH wherefore? You shall not leave me Till I know whence this unkindness spring's.  Lor. 
Look into your Soul, and if you find a guilt Thou never so closely hide, think that the cause, And blame yourself.  Mar. 
Heaven witness, I have none to you.  Lor. 
Perjured Woman! The King, the King,  Mar. 
I have sinned to him, indeed,— but how can you Reproach me that?  Lor. 
Should not I reproach you, That you have drawn me in, to share your Shame?  Mar. 
Was not I drawn in by all the art And force of Love? The Show of faithful, violent Affection! That, I confess, prevailled on my weak heart Unapprehensive of so quick a change; OH how was I deceived!  Lor. 
She confesses it— Madam,  learned Of your deceiver well, could I have doubted That you but yielded to my importunity, What the King claimed his Right in? Could I suspect 'Twas counterfeited all, where so much grief, And tenderness appeared?  Mar. 
Lorraine, you wrong me, 'Twas but too real; what cause have you to doubt it?  Lor. 
I know it, from himself.  Mar. 
What is''t you know?  Lor. 
That he refused to Mary you.  Mar. 
From himself?  Lor. 
From whom else could I know the guilty Secret, Which none else was privy to?  Mar. 
Amazing! What said the King?  Lor. 
I would spare your blushes, Think what he could say.  Mar. 
I dare hear it,—— And can clear myself;—— at lest to you.  Lor. 
OH Shameless! To me clear yourself! To me Whom  abused! He says, you need not grudge him The remembrance, how happy he was once In your Embraces.  Mar. 
Unheard of baseness! Is this The noble use he promised of the generous Confidence I made him of my Love;  Lor. 
You have been generous indeed, to him; But on me, revenge his falsehood; or rather 'Tis the punishment of Heaven for Idolising thee, The guilty folly of cent'ring all my hopes Of happiness on a Woman; The worst, and weakest part of the Creation; OH I had fixed my Soul on thy possession! Had's thou had virtue, I had sought not farther Nor thought a Heaven beyond; So Blind, so impiously I doted on this delusive mischief! Forgive me, And I here forswear the faithless Sex, Forswear thy Bed, thy Sight.  Mar. 
Would you be calm, and hear me.  Lor. 
Never, never, let me hear more from thee, of thee, T'awaken in my memory the Dishonour, The wrong thou hast done me; For thy own Safety, and my Peace, Let me forget thee, 'tis not enough to hate thee, To despise thee, that will be my torment, Whilst I retain the Image of thy wondrous charms, To think how false thou art! For my quiet I must banish thee from my remembrance, Not know thou ever were't— Let me lose all thought Rather than still love on, when I despise This vile bewitching— OH I dare look not longer On the lovely treacherous Destruction! Be cursed, be wretched, as thou hast made Lorraine. Ex. Lor.  Mar. 
OH I an cursed enough! Lorraine, my Lord, He will not hear me, rage possesses all his Senses! Thus to lose him's worse, is more afflicting Than the loss, had I parted with him When my pressing Duty required it of me, The very cause of our unhappiness Had raised his value for me, and I had still Preserved the noblest, dearest, part of him; But to be thrown from his Esteem! To think That he depises me; laments that he Not sooner known me, ever he had tied himself To a vile Prostitute! OH insupportable! But why do I bear thus? Not fly t'upbraid the King his treachery, To rouse his guilty Soul with torturing Visions Of his future Hell, for that must be The Doom of such a Devil! [going the Duke of Britain enters.  Brit. 
 herded enough to know I'm unsuspected, (unseen) And must prevent what might discover me. OH Madam, I an come on such a purpose As I abhor to speak! And yet I must, Or you, and your Lorraine, my Friend, are lost!  Mar. 
Where is Lorraine?  Brit. 
I left him with the King, And Duke of Austria  Mar. 
My Brother with 'em!  Brit. 
He met Lorraine, with various passions tossed, Reading a paper that seemed to raise the tempest, And by the power of Friendship, forced from him The Secret it contained; which the King (Whom I was with) perceiving, with fury said, Brittannie, as you value your Friend's safety, Hasten to Marg'rite, tell her from me If she deny to Austria, what  said, When he reproaches her, if she but offer To vindicate herself, she Sacrifices To her honour, her beloved Lorraine.  Mar. 
What means the Tyrant? Does he think I can Be frightened from defending my injured Honour?  Brit. 
I refused the office, urged it's baseness, Threatened to prevent his barbarous vengeance; Nay, take your choice, he cried if you oppose, Or offer to disccover what  purposed, You see he's in my power, he dies this moment. Forced by the imminent danger I consented.  Mar. 
Own such a shameful Falsehood! I'll die first  Brit. 
As he left me to join the Dukes; he added, Hope not to delude me, I'll have a Spy Upon her Looks, her Whispers, the first that tends To accuse me, or clear herself, by Hell, I swear, gives certain death to her Lorraine,  Mar. 
Hell reward him for it!  Brit. 
What's to be done? My Soul is so divided By my concern for you, and fears for him, I know not what t'advise.  Mar. 
How than should I resolve! I who must bear The Shame! Or if I sacrifice Lorraine, All the unhappiness!  Brit. 
I fear you must At present, yield to the hard necessity.  Mar. 
How? Confess myself a thing, that 'tis so shameful But to be named to by another!  Brit. 
Not deny it, till Lorrain's's secured From the King's cruelty; he may to morrow Set out from hence for Naples, than as I know Your Innocence, fear not I shall find means To justify you, both to him, and Austria, But whilst he stays in France, you cannot clear Your Honour, at a lesle price than his dear Life, For whom I know, you chief would preserve it.  Mar. 
Barbarous imposition! Than keep my Brother from me, I cannot see him.  Brit. 
'Tis best indeed, if possible, to avoid it.  Enter Austria. Mar. 
OH he's here! His Looks dash such confusion, How shall I bear his stinging Words! OH whither shall I fly!  Aus. 
Beyond the bounds of being, if thou'dst escape thy Infamy, if to search for Peace, Where thy own vile thoughts, may never pursue thee.  Mar. 
OH that I could become a thoughtless nothing! In pity, Brother, spare me your reproaches, Think I, perhaps, may not so much deserve 'em As you imagine.  Brit. 
OH be careful, Madam.  Aus. 
Not deserve' 'em! Is there an excuse? For thou dost not dare deny thy baseness.  Mar. 
Indeed, I dare not.  Aus. 
And did you, could you hope, The King would condescend to Mary you? By Heaven I forgive him from my Soul; Nay, Honour him for scorning thee, thou blot Of Majesty! Shame of thy Noble Birth, Our Family's reproach, and Curse! OH what Inglorious Nation first made so light of Honour, To let in the lest depend upon A Woman's Conduct! To put so great a Trust, Into the hands of such frail things as these!  Mar. 
And we in vain may guard, if Fate condemn it, A cruel Fate, like mine, inevitable! OH, I shall not hold— urge me not further, Lest it produce a Tragic consequence, 'Twill grieve you to have caused.  Aus. 
Thou art so vile, Thou canst not have the courage to design Revenge upon thyself, else would I urge thee To rid our House of it's Disgrace, thyself To let out thy hot Blood that first inflamed thee To consenting; consent, thou must have wooed him, He dared not have attempted the Dishonour Of one as greatly born as he, of Ancestors In Fame Superior, hadst thou not allured him To thy lose desires— Shame of thy Sex!  Mar. 
I an!— Thou I did never— I did— I do— I know not what I do— All that the King would have me,  given up My Honour to his base.  Aus. 
Curse! Curses on thee for it.  Mar. 
OH what do I say! And yet 'tis true, my Shame's too real! Betrayed, Confounded with Disgrace!— I must not speak,— I cannot look on any honest Face, Here will I fix my Eyes to Earth, lie levelly [throws herself on the Ground. With the vilest Dirt, scorned, trampled on; Now, now the King may Triumph in my ruin— He shall not, OH he knows; he knows I an— I dare not name it!  Aus. 
For Shame thou wouldst not.  Mar. 
I cannot suffer this, I'll— OH I must, Lorrain'sthe cause, and can I bear too much!  Aus. 
Never for thy guilt to him, whom thou Hast most abused! How could he withhold From kill thee? Or do I deserve The name of Friend, or my descent from Burgundy, And suffer the Dishonourer of both To live! die wretch to expiate thy foul Sin.  Brit. 
Hold Austria, hold your desperate hand, you shall not—  Mar. 
Hear me Heaven, that knowest my Misery; I wish to live but till this Stain's washed of; Grant that, and I resign my wretched Life.  Aus. 
Live than to clear thy Soul, but live recluse, In Fasting, Discipline, and sharpest Penance; Pass thy days, be Tears, and Prayers thy Food; Buried from the World, forgotten by Mankind, Forget thy name, thyself, all but thy guilt; Which though I'll never forgive, Heaven may at last; But all thy wretched Life in Mourning waist, What e'er's to come, lament, and curse the past. [Ex. Austria  Mar. 
Enough, enough, just Heaven, my Miseries Are full, for human nature can support not more; And only Love could make it bear so much.  Brit. 
Dear Madam, your Afflictions grieve me to the Soul; Sure when the King's informed of 'em he must Relent, I'll try what can be done to move him; Or secure my Friend; and till I wait on you, I beg your patience; lest your just resentment Prove fatal to yourself.  Mar. 
I must rely on you Good Britanny, a poor weak Woman; can But ineffecttually lament, or rail; And thus to grieve is the more descent weakness.  Brit. 
Your Sorrow shall be short, I go to serve you. (aside) Her rage, against the King, was most my fear, Now to remove Lorraine, and all's secure, [Ex. Brit  Mar. 
There is not sure on Earth a Wretch forlorn like me! Those whom malicious Tongues have most aspersed; Find still some Friends t' asssert their Innocence, Or in whose Esteem they rest content, The Witnesses of their most artless actions, Hide from the World in privacy, and silence; virtue's best evidence, and noblest Provence; OH 'tis sufficient comfort; the only valued Approbation of these few dear intimates; But by them abandoned, cursed, despised, Mankind's Applause could make not recompense. Another Friend t'upbraid my real guilt!  Enter Ann of Britain. Ann. 
A Tyranny unparrelleled!  learned my Friend, your strange inhuman Usage, Meeting my Father when he came from hence; He told me as in haste he could; a baseness Of the King scarce credible! With pain I could restrain my impatient Indignation For a moment; to give my Friend some comfort.  Mar. 
You cannot, OH you will not pity me, When you know the justice of my Sufferings.  Ann. 
The justice of 'em!  Mar. 
I have deferved it all! Lorrain's my crime, and 'tis but equal punishment To be deprived of that for which I fined; I see the hand of Heaven in it, and submit. Yet don't insult, leave me as all that's dear On Earth have done, a lonely, wretched, An abandoned Wife.  Ann. 
Married! Than there's not certain worth, On which to found a firm, exalted Friendship; I see in you, a stock that promised much, Adopted you my charge, thought it my business, And my Glory, to support, to cherish, And improve your blooming Virtue; Nor ever had desisted from my care, How ever ungrateful you had proved to me, Had you not been unfaithful to yourself, Corrupted by deceitful, ruinous Passions.  Mar. 
Ruinous indeed! For it has lost me All I had of worth, my Love, my Fame, My Friend! I have assisted to my wretched Fate, But was inevitably doomed unhappy.  Ann. 
Not Madam, had you choose to bear th' uneasyness.— Your Duty pointed to, Heaven had been Engaged to your protection, that can extract Good, from extremest Ills, and ever from Such Sacrifices, draws some unforeseen Event, that makes it prove even here a Blessing; But when indulgent to our vicious Passions, In defiance of Heaven itself, we will be happy, Break through all restraints to our desires; Some sudden Disappointment dashes th'enjoyment, Shows us how vain our Hopes, how false our Judgement, And leaves us desolate, without a refuge, But in a sad Repentance.  Mar. 
O! I have felt that Truth, And dare not in my miseries ask assistance From that Sacred Power I have offended; But if a penitent may be accepted, Hear my Petition, and this Solemn Vow; (kneels If thou art pleased to clear my Innocence From this unjust Reproach, in acknowledgement, And to atone my other Faults, I here protest, To sacrifice my dearest Inclination, And Dedicating my whole Life to Heaven, Deprive myself for ever of Lorraine: My fond, my doting Love for whom, betrayed me To that guilt, for which I an thus rigorously Punished: Grant my request, and if I fail In what  vowed, with heavier plagues, (if there Are any such) avenge my Perjury.  Ann. 
OH we are all fair promisers in Affliction; You see not now Lorraine, raving, despairing At your Resolution, pleading with all Those charms, that tenderness, that once prevailled;  still their force, and you have the same Weakness; So moved again, you'll think not punishment So great as losing him, and with him any, All are to be born.  Mar. 
Not, I at once have proved 'em both, and find Experimenrally, not Torments equal To remorse of guilt, it incapacitates For all enjoyments; but in the depth of wretchedness, The calm of Innocence gives sweet refreshments By it's own delights, and future promises; OH I have lost it! And with it the best aid To my weak virtue, since I'm now unworthy Of your Friendship  Ann. 
Your quick return regains your Title to it, Your sufferings to my pity, and assistance; By power undaunted I'll proclaim your Wrongs, And through this thickening Mist show the King's Malice, The black obstructing Cloud, from which it fallen, Whilst your bright Honour kept it's purest lustre; This be my care to clear, your Task is more, Unstained preserve; the Glory I restore.  Mar. 
So prospero your design, but OH beware, Lorrain's dear Life, be your first greatest care, Thou lost to me— what must be now my State, When my best Wish, is such a wretched fate! [Exeunt severally    

ACT V  

Scene. A Garden.  Lorraine lying on a Bank, the Duke of Britain standing by him. Brit. 
FOr Honour's sake, shake of this Lethargy, Exert yourself, and rouse your Soul to Glory; Look on this Disappointment as designed To set your thoughts on new, on nobler pursuits,  Lor. 
 done with all, my stock of hopes, and Wishes, All were in one venture, they're lost, And  not more to hazard, 'tis not in nature now To give me a desire.  Brit. 
OH you're mistaken, Desire's the very Essence of our Being, As insufficient to itself, the mark Of our dependence; and this indifference To all things else, shows you still dote on Marg'rite.  Lor. 
Can you think so low, so poorly of me? Dote on a Woman in herself so vile, (rising So base to me!  Brit. 
Than you have not excuse to loiter here, Neglecting prostrate Nations, that but ask you To accept Dominion; not Anthony Whom you so much condemned, so carelessly, So stupidly, threw fortune from him.  Lor. 
Not, for what he lost in Empire, was over paid, In a long pleased possession of that Beauty He prized above the World; Blessed Anthony! Who rightly known t'enjoy with most advantage Things so mutable, not let reflections Of the past, devour the present good; Mark Anthony perhaps rejoiced that she Who once was Caesar's now gave him the preference.  Brit. 
So could you, you wait but her Submissions, a few Tears. Some light Excuse, and Vows of future faith, Would soften, vanquish you, or rather, show How much a Slave you are.  Lor. 
To a Strumpet! I disdain it, scorn her, loathe her, Damn her— She has caught me in the noose, and thinks me fast, But 'tis most dangerous being in a chained Lion's reach, whose fury's urged, and doubled By restraint; she's bond me to her own Destruction, shall know I an a Husband But by my Tyranny.  Brit. 
Married! than all's defeated  Lor. 
Not Brittany, I'll instantly to Naples, The air she breathes is loathsome that I an married Is my Charter for tormenting her, therefore pleases me.  Brit. 
And I 've been plotting to prevent, what's past. OH Sluggard mischief, that with all thy wings, Should lag behind, and let desire outstripped thee! (aside.  Enter the two Neapolitan Lords. Lorraine walking disorderly 1st. Lord. 
 Orders, Sir, from Naples, to tell your Highness Your delay t'assist 'em forced 'em t'accept The King's concessions, and having given up The power they held, 'tis now too late t'attempt their freedom.  Lor. 
So, I 've only than a Wife to govern, That's work enough. Tell Ferrand I may visit him Perhaps, to learn the art of Tyrannising.  2 Lord. 
Sure he's not himself!  Brit. 
somewhat disturbs him.  2d Lord. 
It seems some raging passion.  1st. Lord. 
And I fear has long possessed him, bounded His aspiring thoughts, whose Soul was formed To check th'ambition of usurping Kings, And keep the World in Balance.  Lor. 
She was the same, this very false, polluted Creature, when first she charmed me, when every look, When every tender word, gave me transporting Pleasure! Not dreaming they were all dissembled; OH what a happiness have I exchanged For a sad knowledge! The Curse of Adam, is Entailed on all his Race, and those who know The most, are the most wretched  Brit. 
You see him discomposed, my Lords, and since you have not more t'expect, 'tis best to leave him.  1 Lord. 
We will, though grieved to leave him thus, for much I honoured him, Ex. Lords.  Brit. 
I wish, Sir, I had known your Marriage sooner, Perhaps it had been better— yet you may find—— OH Cursed design— but— 'tis past— well, she's your Wife Lorraine— it concerns you now to think the best, She may be wronged— believe it, I advice you, Restore her to your Love— for your own sake forget, Or by her future conduct, judge the past. Ex. Brit.  Lor. 
Forget! Restore her to my heart! Guilty, And shameless, to triumph in her treachery, Allured to prostitute embraces, the relics Of another's satiated Lust; OH vile imagination!— And this they dared design t'impose upon me, The King, and his cast— confounded 'em! Was I sought out, as fit for such a purpose! With Slavish appetite, to take contentedly The scraps he had thrown from him! By all my wrongs, They shall not find me formed of such tame Stuff—— Yes Viper you have Stung me, [Ent. Mar. and Ann. But yet the Poison has not reached my heart, It but inflames my Blood— Ha' here— Yes, you have roused me To punish both, both partners in so foul, so base an injury!  Mar. 
OH, my Lord, upon my Knees I beg you but to hear me.  Lor. 
Not, receive it as a grace that I refuse you, That I avoid the place where ever you are, To spare your shame in looking on the Man You have abused— 'tis the last time— OH Marg'rite! [Exit.  Mar. 
I came to look my last, and never would Have troubled you again, nor will pursue him farther; Here will I cling about my Parent Earth, Till her kind bosom open to receive, And free from all woes the most unhappy Child she ever boar.  Ann. 
Alas, it is not now A time for Counsel, or to offer Comfort.  Enter King, Bourbon, and Attendants. Bour. 
What strange Chimaera in the form of Honour, Incites you to oppose your own desires, To make another wretched? What Paradox Of resolution! To which both seem averse, Yet unconstrained pursue.  King. 
Neither I hope averse  Bour. 
Behold her than, whence such depressing grief? What means that posture of despair?  King. 
Weeping, and on the ground? I would not so afflict her Nor meant to force, but win her inclinations. Madam, if ought  done, has caused this sorrow, Believe I hoped a gratefuller effect; And will not more oppose Lorrain's Pretensions, Since I perceive mine give you such disorder.  Mar. 
Tyrant  done what is not in your power to retrieve.  King. 
It is, it shall be, I renounce my words, Resign my Right, and to have not pretence Of future Claim, transfer it to this Princess, Who, if She condescend to share with me The dignity of Sovereign, I give the Power entire.  Ann. 
Both I disdain. What you can give, or be a Partner in, Must be unworthy me; think not I lesle Resent her injuries, than she herself Who Sinks beneath their weight; Or knowing thy vile falsehoods framed against her, Can lesle abhor the alliance.  King. 
Vile falsehoods! speak Madam, have I done aught, Not to be justified to Truth, and Honour? (to Mar.  Mar. 
To Truth! dare you look on me, and affirm it! (rising OH, I appeal to Heaven, and your own Conscience, If you can tax my Honour, with an action, That I need blush at, though Mankind were Witness.  King. 
Not tax your Honour, what mean you Madam?  Marinell: 
Amazing confidence!  Ann. 
He that dared do it in the face of Heaven, Will not be awed by helpless innocence; But think not your barbarity can fright me From her Vindication, or publishing thy Infamy.  King. 
What Infamy? Wherhfore these warm reproaches? Madam, what ever your Accusation is, By all that's great, I an not conscious To have wronged the Princess.  Mar. 
OH, wherefore this! What would you more?  parted me for ever From Lorraine, and yet have found I prized His Life above my Honour,  Sacrificed it To your wicked purpose; Is it too little? Must you insult me in the shame and misery You have brought on me!  King. 
More unintelligible! What strange delusion has possessed you both! How have I prejudiced your Honour? Or what Designed against Lorraine? Who has accused me?  Ann. 
Think not my Father will conceal your Crimes, Thou accessary, to prevent your blacker Vowed design; from him I know Your cruel imposition on the Princess. Who though her value for the life you threatened Awed her to silence whilst Lorraine was with you—  King. 
Still more obscure! what Threats? What Imposition? How— when Lorraine with me? I have not seen Lorraine since my return  Mar. 
So obstinate in malice! OH too often, And too fatally  seen him, had you not boasted To himself, he could not have believed On lesle authority, such shame of me, With which you only know how falsely you asperse me.  King. 
And this the Duke of Brittannie affirms?  Mar. 
Lorraine affirms it, too nearly struck In my dishonour, to bear it Silently, Urged with contempt, and rage, declared you Author.  King. 
'Tis false as Hell, a base invention, framed To justify his change, the Coward's Honour, And the Villain's virtue, fearing t' avow Their nature's smallest frailty, dare to disguise it By the blackest crimes, an impious Courage!  Ann. 
Such is thy, That guilty first of the most hellish Actions, Darest throw the infamy on those thou'st injured.  King. 
Madam, again I assert my innocence, More is not to be said when Ladies rail; Lorraine I know to answer, confront me with him. By Royalty, by my more Sacred Honour, Which he had dared profane he shall confess it; Search, search him instantly, summon him here To face an injured King— Not, warned he may fly In dread of my just Vengeance; myself will trace him, Through all the Palace, resound the hateful Name, Lorraine false, treacherous Lorraine, Lorraine. (going. Enter Lorraine.  Lor. 
Sure the King's voice— and darest thou call Lorraine! Whose sight to thy confusion, must upbraid thee With his Wrongs, lesle insupportable In what unjustly thou detainest of mine, Than what to free thyself, thou wouldst impose on me But though  thrown the vile dishonour of, The base design, shall not be unavenged.  King. 
I dare defy thee, backed with all the power Of thy Confederate Friends, who helped thy malice In this black Contrivance, and gives thee now A rash, infernal daring to persist in falsehood To me, thus boldly, who must know it false, As surely as thou knowest me innocent, Of thy invented Scandal on the Princess.  Ann. 
Your Justice cannot now Lorraine, give credit To a Man  herded deny, what first He to yourself affirmed, that shows him false, And when you know how he pursued his treachery against the Princess—  Lor. 
Madam, her Injuries concern me not. How I have been abused, I know from him.  King. 
From me! Unworthy Prince! Darest thou in arms Defend thy Accusation? Thou canst not be So desperate, t'expose thy Life, in such A wicked cause; therefore recant, or doubt not In thy Blood, my Honour shall be cleared.  Lor. 
I accept thy Challenge, be the injured Victor.  King. 
The guilty, in this Infamy be punished, Discovered to his never dying shame, and all Mankind's contempt.  Lor. 
Than to the World Proclaim it, witness thyself against the guilty, And thy own words be proof. [Giving him the Letter.  King. 
My hand it is. [Reads it to himself. What it contains is a base Lie, and this A Forgery, more plausibly to throw the villainy on me.  Lor. 
O 'tis too late, she has herself confessed it.  King. 
Confessed!  Ann. 
Thou knowest she dared not otherwise, to Lor. fearing your Life, which if she justified herself, he vowed to take.  King. 
Distraction! When? To whom?  Ann. 
The Duke of Britanny, who see you in his power, to Lor. And had he warned had given you certain death. Forced (to prevent it) on that fatal Message, But just declared that moment when the Tyrant Met with you and Austria.  Lor. 
Your Story's ill concerted, till now I have not met him.  King. 
Thou speakest a truth, though to abuse it, serving Thy falsehood with it; what depths of impious cunning! This was conirived to be secure from Austria's vengeance, Mine thou shalt not escape, prepare for thy defence Against my single Sword, me thou hast injured, And 'tis not just Nations should be engaged for private wrongs,  Lor. 
I thank thee, as the most equal, 'Tis the speediest way, and suits with my impatience; Did not the presence of two noble Princesses Make the place sacred, here I would engage thee; Marg'rite has forfeited all the respect Due to her Birth, and it would please my justice, In her fight to punish the Accomplice Of her shame, her treachery, for that's The vilest part, the mean deceit to me; With what engaging Arts, what show of tenderness! OH 'twas deceitful all— but how transporting! Would thou couldst persuade— what would my easy heart! It softens, seems to shake my Resolution, And I grow tame in gazing— Thou shalt not triumph— I disdain— my Soul resumes herself— She shall not—  Mar. 
If ever Lorraine—  Lor. 
Do not talk— I must not stay to hear thee— think not— never I will not see thee more— We, Sir, shall meet. (going  Enter Duke of Austria. Aus. 
Stay, Brother, all is well,  been abused, And wronged my Sister, she's innocent Lorraine.  Lor. 
Blessed Voice! o, my eased herat 'twas just screwed up To such a height, it must have been relaxed, Or break; O how shall we atone? How be forgiven?  Aus. 
You know not yet how I have learned the truth.  Lor. 
Not matter, you have said she's innocent, I'd not inquire farther, lest it should raise a doubts But here you swear, and gaze, and swear it too; She is, I see it in her eyes, I know it By my heart, I cannot bear the pleasure That it feels— a change to such extremes! The sudden transport kills! O, 'tis too much!  Aus. 
This will remove all doubts, and fully clear her. (gives a Letter.  Lor. 
What? From whence?— 'Tis needless— but it speaks Of Margarite, and Innocence, and I will read it.  Aus. 
The Duke of Brittanie has secretly Withdrawn from Paris, and left this Letter To be given me, and do my Sister justice.  Mar. 
A faithful Friend. Now Tyrant all thy malice will appear.  Aus. 
The King is innocent of this deceit, And Brittany the sole Contriver.  Ann. 
How!  Aus. 
Madam, your pardon, on his own authority I may presume to speak it.  Ann. 
Let truth be known, who ever it condemn.  Aus. 
A raging, hopeless, Love for Margarite, he says, inspired this desperate Contrivance, to prevent her Marriage with Lorraine, But hearing it already was performed, Repenting of successless mischief, this confession Is all the satisfaction he can make.  Lor. 
Gladly, I forgive thee.  King. 
The Princess Margarite already married!  Aus. 
Yes, Sir, by my consent, scorning she should Attend, till you thought fit to cast her of, I gave her to a Prince deserves her better.  King. 
Austria, you judged my words with too much heat, I would have kept my faith with Margarite, And offered her the Crown, as she in justice To me, must confess.  Mar. 
I must indeed— a truth that has undone me! (aside  King. 
This I declare to court a reconcilement, not ashamed To own I had rather have a Gallant Man My Friend, than Enemy.  Aust. 
I an not Enemy but to Injustice, To Honour, in whom ever found a Friend, By that you now engage me.  King. 
Since Margarite has acquitted me, may I presume Most noble Princess, you are not displeased To find my Honour cleared. (to Ann.  Ann. 
Judge by my past behaviour, in this case The means by which you're justified, makes silence best become me.  Aus. 
Are you convinced Lorraine?  Lor. 
Convinced! struck dumb with shame, and conscious guilt. I dare not speak to her.  Aus. 
She is all mildness? not a spark of my too fiery temper, Calm, and forgiving, with the same tenderness Will now receive you; as you had never wronged her.  Lor. 
I do not ask it, here divest myself Of the authority a Husband claims, And new begin my Suit; look on me, Madam, As an humble, guilty Suppliant, Who will submit to any sufferings That may prevail upon your pity, and readmit Him to your favour.  Mar. 
Assist me Heaven!  Ann. 
Now my poor Friend, does not your melting heart Repent your Vow?  Mar. 
But shall not break it though 'tis a cruel trial!  Lor. 
You will not deign an Answer, I deserve none But to reproach me; in this submissive posture, (kneels That speaks my heart, and my dejected state, insult me than.  Mar. 
OH Lorraine, would you have herded me speak In my defence, all might have yet been well.  Lor. 
'Tis not to be excused, nor can I hope You should be lesle obdurate to my prayers, Or blame you though you never do forgive, or hear or see me more.  Mar. 
Rise, my dear Lord, I from my Soul forgive you.  Lor. 
You called me dear, OH can you love me still.  Mar. 
More than my Life,— yet we must part for ever.  Lor. 
Is that forgiving! What can your hate do worse?  Mar. 
In vain we oppose our Destiny, which first Revived the King's Affection, to disjoin us; Yet still we striven with fate, broken to each other Through all Obligations, Conscience, and Honour; What Judgement next was sent to part, and show us Heaven was difpleas'd—  Lor. 
But now is reconciled, could you be so.  Mar. 
A Solemn, and irrevocable Vow, Now serves the Will of Heaven; by so immediate Punishment, so plainly pointed at my guilt, Made conscious of it, I vowed if Heaven would clear My Fame, for ever to deprive myself Of the dear Cause both of my Sin, and Sufferings; My Prayers granted, shows the Sacrifice accepted.  Lor. 
'Tis, Madam, you have now full power To gratify your hatred, and disdain.  Mar. 
Alas, Lorraine, can we contend with Heaven?  Aus. 
'Twas rashly made, and not obligatory, Nulled by your Marriage-Vow.  Mar. 
That was itself nulled by my former Contract. Yet could the King's consent now justify it, 'Tis cancelled by a greater, allowed you know Of force to break it, wedding us to Heaven.  Aus. 
I wish indeed it never had been made.  Lor. 
Do you confirm it? What authority, What Law— but 'tis in vain, not Casuists, Not Canons, can convince like inclination, You would have it so,— Go, Madam, and be satisfied you shall Have full revenge, if when you have left me I ever forgive myself, or taste a joy, Or end my Miseries but with my Deaths, May they be doubled on me after Death.  Mar. 
Must I give such affliction! My poor Lorraine, Your Sufferings are the saddest part of mine!  Lor. 
All will be well, I have not long to suffer.  Mar. 
This is the fatal grief, that seeks not vent, But inward works, and preys upon the Vitals; his Eyes are fixed, despair seems to have chilled his Blood, and stupified his Sense! I cannot see him thus! My Lord, my Love; what must I— OH Madam, now assist, take, force me from him, Or I shall yield, forget my Vow, fly perjured To his Arms, and bring a heavier Curse On this dear Prince, than that he now laments.  Lor. 
Be not concerned for me, I can submit Without repining, to your Will; may I not take One parting Kiss? I shall not more disturb you.  Mar. 
O my heart!  Lor. 
She pants, and trembles in my Arms! OH can you love me thus, and leave me! Not, You will not, cannot! Say, can you tear yourself From my fond clinging Arms? Now whilst I hold you To my panting heart, now pluck it from my breast, Now say you'll leave me, will you Marg'rite?  Mar. 
Never, never, I'm rooted here, What is there in our Loves to displease Heaven?  Lor. 
Nothing, we're joined by Heaven, and all these joys, These raptures, are divine!  Ann. 
She's lost! What resolution can be trusted!  Mar. 
Grudge me not one moments bliss Since 'tis my last.  Lor. 
Ages are yet to come.  Mar. 
Not more, I dare not trust myself again In those bewitching arms; OH, do not tempt me To our mutual ruin.  Lor. 
What means my Love! Was all this kindness than But feigned, to torture me more tightly! When my desire inflamed, flushed with my hopes, In reach of all my joys to snatch 'em from me!  Mar. 
I wish I better could command myself, For both our quiets; but yet my heart, acquainted As it is with grief, cannot in sight Of my Lorraine. be quite insensible of joy, For 'tis a blessing but to look on thee; Must I lose that too, never see thee more! If Life's a good, why is it not taken from me, When I'm deprived of every other good? But than 'tis misery, and therefore left me, OH Tyranny of Fate!  Lor. 
If this concern is real, canst thou leave me? Or can I see thee thus, and part with thee!  Mar. 
Think it dissembled, if 'twill be for your quiet; Think any thing to make your loss the lighter.  Lor. 
Not, I know thou Lov'st me, I know thou canst not See thy poor Lorraine, thus trembling, weeping, Fainting at thy Feet, and not relent; (kneells Thou knowest I never can have ease without thee, And  thou make me wretched? Will you not look on me?  Mar. 
I dare not, OH Madam, Brother.  Ann. 
We'll attend you.  Mar. 
Not, I conjure you stay to comfort him, You never can give me any, but to hear Lorrain'sat peace, if I sought comfort would, I go from him!  Lor. 
Stay Marg'rite, thus prostrate I entreat thee, I will not ask thee not to leave me, but  thou Leave me thus?— Sure we should part like Lovers, Take a thousand sad Adieus, one last Embrace, canst thou deny me that? Remember 'Tis my last request, and the last blessing Thou  ever give me— she turns, I cannot Rise to meet thee; OH hasten to my Arms Whilst they have strength to clasp thee, Or my faint life will fail me ever you reach 'em.  Mar. 
I an half vanquished, but in looking on thee! I must not— yet I would take— OH 'twill undo us— Cancrone I refuse— OH Lorraine, what do I suffer When languishing to meet thy expecting Arms, I tear myself for ever, ever, from thee! (Ex. led by Women  Aus. 
She faints, support, lead her away— Lorraine, Bear yourself like a Man, my friend,  lost Nothing essential to your happiness. Was Marg'rite wanting to it, ever you known her? Your state is now the same; our false imaginations Gives us necessities, that nature would not feel. Can make our peace depend on every thing It represents a good, though the most foreign to it! Think yourself now, as if you never had known my Sister.  Lor. 
Preach to a Wretch that's tortured on the rack, Bid him imagine he's at ease— do I not feel? Is it not real misery to lose The only thing I love? Could I have loved If I had never known her? Sophistick nonsense! Here, here, are these pangs nothing?— Why did you (rising Let her go?— Think you I'll live without her?  Aus. 
Be Calm, we must submit.  Lor. 
I will not. She's my Wife; I'll claim her from the Priests, From Heaven, I'll claim her at the Altar, rage, Curse, invoke— something I will do there, Or die, or force her thence— I will not bear. (Ex. Lor.  Ann. 
Unhappy Pair! let us correct ourselves By these Examples, seeing how vainly They sought happiness, in following Unruly passion, that blind, as rash, ever With inconsiderate haste, obstructs it's own designs.  Aus. 
'tis a blind guide indeed, yet with well meaning zeal But leads us from our way; base treachery Taking by Paths, through dark and muddy ways, Sinks us in filth, which though we gain our end, Exposes us to shame, Discovering The vile Steps we trod.  King. 
But we who sacrificed to Virtue, our desires, Have in submissively resigning, Obtained our utmost Wishes; th'event of things Wise Providence directs, leaves nothing to our care, Or charge, but our own actions; Yet with Preposterous idle diligence, We to dispose of Destiny project, And the small province in our power neglect.  

FINIS.