UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES FONTAINVILLE FOREST, A PLAY, IN FIVE ACTS, ( Founded on the Romance of the For eft) AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE- ROYAL CO VENT-GARDEN, B Y JAMES BOADEN, HONOURABLE SOCIETY OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. It will have blood : they say, blood will have blood. Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak. MACBETH. lonfron, PRINTED FOR HOOKHAM AND CARPENTER, NEW BOND STREET. 1794. For Reading Room Only TO THAT PUBLIC, Patronage is an Author's surejl Support, as it is his highejl Honour, the Play of FONTAINVILLE FOREST is, with 5 all Respeff, dedicated by Their most obedient, VJ '* Devoted Servant, \j JAMES BO ADEN. 160^ PROLOGUE. BY THE AUTHOR OF THE PLAY. JL HE Prologue once, indeed, in days of old, Some previous fads of the new Drama told : Pointed your exportation to the fcene, And ckar'd obftruclion, that might intervene : Poffefs'd you with thofe aids, the Author thought Were requifite, to judge him as you ought. The moderns, previous hints like thefe defpife, Demand intrigue, and banquet on furprize : The Prologue, notwithftanding, keeps its ftation, A trembling Poet's folemn lamentation. Cloak'd up in metaphor, it tells of mocks Fatal to mips new launch'd, from hidden rocks ; Of critic batteries, of rival ftrife, The Deftinies that flit the thin-fpun life. Our Author chufes to prepare the way, \Vith lines at leaft fuggcfted by his Play. Caught from the Gothic treafures of Romance, He frames his work, and lays the fcene in France. The word, I fee, alarms it vibrates here, And Feeling marks its impulfe with a tear. It brings to thought, a people once refin'd, Who led fupreme the manners of mankind ; Dcprav'd by cruelty, by pride infiam'd, By traitors madden'd, and by fophifts fiiam'd. Crufhing that freedom, which, with gentle fway, Conrted their revolution's infant day, PROLOGUE. 'Ere giant vanity, with impious hand, Aflail'd the facred Temples of the Land. Fall'n is that Land beneath oppreffion's flood ; Its pureft fun has fet, alas, in blood ! The milder planet drew from hiai her light, And when HE rofe no more, foon funk in night : The regal fource of order, once deftroy'd. Anarchy made the fair creation void. Britons, to you, by temperate freedom crown'd, For ever/ manly fentiment renown'd, The Stage can have no motive to enforce The principles, that guide your glorious courfe ; Proceed triumphant 'mid the world's applaufe, Firm to your King, your Altars, and your Law$. DRAMATIS PERSONS, Men. Marquis of Montault, - Mr. FARREN Lamotte, - - Mr. POPE Louis, - - Mr. MIDDLETON Peter, - - - Mr. HULL Jaques, - Mr. CLAREMONT Laval, - - Mr. BLURTON Nemours, - Mr. POWELL Phantom, - Mr. POLL EX. Women. Hortenfia Lamotte, - Mifs MORRIS Adeline, - Mrs. POPE. Servants and Guards. Scene in an Abbey chiefly, and the adjacent parts of the' For eft. Time. The beginning of the Fifteenth Century. Note. It was not from a vain teaacioufnefs that I determined to retain pafiages expunged in the performance. The Stage and the Clofet are very diiferent mediums for our obfervance of FONTAINVILLE FOREST. ACT I. SCENE. A Gothic Hall of an Abbey, the whole much dilapidated. Enter MADAME LAMOTTE, followed by PETER. Madame. 3EEK not to fill me with thefe terrors, Peter : Here are no ligns of any late inhabitants, The fugitive fears nothing. but difcovery. While we are fafe from all purfuit, no vain Or fuperflitious fancies fhall difturb me. Peter. This is a horrid place, I fcarce dare crawl Through its low grates and narrow paflages ; And the wind's guft thai whi.Ues in the turrets, Is as the groan of fome one near his end. Heaven fend my Mafter back ! On my old knees I begg'd him not explore that difmal wood ; He comforted me then, but fcorn'd my fears. Madame. Woud'ft have us perilh here for want ? Have comfort, Nor let thy Miftrefs teach thee fortitude. Peter. Nay, dearest Madam, do not think your old, But faithful, fervant backward to defend you ! B t FONTAINVILLE FOREST. From an attack but mortal, again ft odds Chearful I'd rifk this crazy tenement ; But here my fear is not of human harm. Madame. May there no greater danger prefs than your's, The place will then yield us the needful flielter, Your matter will be fafe, and I be happy. But night is far advanc'd his alpfence pains me. Peter. He went at duik ; by the fame token then The owl fliriek'd from the porch He ftarted back; But recollected, fmote his forehead, and advanc'd;- He ftruck into the left hand dingle foon : I clos'd the Abbey gate, which grated fadly. Madame. Hark ! his fignal ! How ! a flranger with him ! [A knocking againft the pannel. Enter LAMOTT Exporting ADELINE. Lamotte. Receive this fair unfortunate with kindnefs. How IKe was forc'd to fhare our wretched fate, You'll know anon ! Peter, go make a fire ; The rain has drench'd our garments through the leaves. Prepare the fupper; our new gueft mufl need Refrefhment. Madame. Lady, take my arm to afiift you. Adeline. Gratefully. I was born to trouble others. fONTAINVILLE FOREST. 3 Lamotte. Her fpirits are violently agitated ; But kindnefs will reftore her mind its tone. Madame. Scarce did I ever fee a face fo beau- teous ! Lamotte, The remark is womanifh; I nevej knew Diftrefs more poignant the beft reafon, wife, To give our kind affiftance and our love. Bear her in gently fo, now clofe the doors. Exeunt Madame^ Adeline , and Peter. Manet LAMOTTE. Lamotte. Misfortunes thicken on me; fprely pinch'd By poverty already, I have brought Another now, to drain away our life-means. Never admitted to my confidence, My wife fufpects not our decaying ftore. I have reach'd that climax of our wretched bemg, When the heart builds no more on heavenly aid. Defpair has laid his callous hand upon me, And fitted me for deeds, from which I once Had fhrunk. with horror I have no refource But robbery- The degradation ! What ! To nourifh guilty life turn common ftabber ! Lurk in a hedge, and like an adder (ling The unguarded paffenger ! Well, and what then ? There's courage in this theft comparatively The (harper, routed from the loaded dice, With which he damns fame, fortune, honour, man, Rifes in morals when he takes the road, Ba 4 fONTAINVILLE FOREST. Enter MADAME. Madame. Lamotte! He feems difturb'd! My deareft life ! Lamctie. O, is it you ? Reflection on the paft So bufied me, I heard not yaur approach. How fares the ft ranger ? Madame. Sunk to ftartled deep, In broken fentences flic prays for mercy. I Men'd while flic fhriek'd, " Save me ! That ruffian ! " My father, fly me not ! If I muft die, ** Do you difparch me ; fend away that villain.' 7 Lamotte. 'Tis horrible and ftrange ! Her father, then, It was, who forc'd her on me Liften where. The evening being calm, I took my walk To ruminate at full wrapt up in thought, Night ftole upon me Through the pathlefs wild No figns could I difcover that might lead My erring fteps back to this Abbey's towers The tlorm came fudden on, a little while The Shading trees protected me At lengthy A diftant taper threw its trembling light Acrofs the alley where I flood ; 1 ran, So guided, till I reach 'd a paltry cottage. Madame. Twas ram and unadvis'd to venture thus. Lamotte. I knock'd aloud for Ihelter; from wirhin One aik'dVith fuvly voice my name and bufmefs. FONTAINVILLE FOREST. J I faid, a traveller, miffing of the road, And drench'd with rain, begg'd houfe-room for a while. The man within replied " Welcome, come in/' I enter'd and advanced, when he, in hafte, Clapt to the door and lockt it Stay, he cried, I lhall return anon ! Then from above Shrieks ifTued in a female voice At length the crazy flairs Creak'd to the tread of feet, and entering fierce, A ruffian by the hair dragg'd in a lady ; She feem'd expiring. Stern he bad me fwear To take her from his light, and ne'er return ; For, if I did, my life Ihould be the forfeit. I promis'd what he claim'd, and then I told him, If he would bring us to Fdntainville Abbey, I knew the way from thence He hid our eyes, And led us to this gate. Madame. Why mould a father thvjs drive out his child To^want and wretchednefs, or why believe She will not name him in recover'd reafon, And make the law her refuge ? By her drefs She feems to have been taken from fome convent, A holy fifter, but not yet profefs'd. Lamotte. Of this no more ; infcrutable to us The myftery ; with her returning fenfe We may know all that now perplexes us. Certain he look'd as little like her father, As his deeds fpoke him But this well I know, There is a ftate of mind, when anguiih keen FONTAIKVILLE FOREST. For vices part, works on the heart of man* And wrings it fore, till rifing defperation Bemonfters quite his nature then, he fpurns The ties of blood, cancels all obligation In which his Maker bound him to his kind, And is the image of the fiend that tempts him. Madame. Heaven ever Ihield our hearts from fuch defpair ! And yet, Lamotte, I own you wound my foul. Dark looks, that feek the memory's inward fcrolls, While the whole outward fenfe is loft, oft mark Your felf-reproach If I, by chance, aroufe And chace you from your mood, your temper flames In caufclefs anger, which you check with lhame, Arid wrap you ftraight in filence. Lamctte. O, Hortenfia, I have not liv'd a life can brook diftrefs ; He who is clear within may fmile at florms, And dread no reckoning mou'd they chance to whelm him : My crimes prefs heavy on me : flrong compunction, For miferies cntail'd beyond myfelf, Is fettering here, and when I look on you, Outcaft for my offences, moody madnefe Weighs on my brain, and tells my Ihuddering foul, That I am only mark'd out for perdition. But fee, an angel comes, to whifper peace, And foothe me with one act of kindnefs render'd ! FON1AINVILLE FOREST. y Enter ADELINE. Adeline. My honour 'd $ir and Madam, I thus prefs From Ihort repofe, by anguifti forc'd upon me, To pay the thanks yoijr generous pity claims ; For which my heart, in endlefs gratitude, 3hall daily heave to heav'n, and bleffing beg Upon your heads more bounteous than my own. Lamotte. Fair Saint, a common benefit like this Your grateful mind o'erpays. My lovely daugh- ter, Chance throws you on a rude and churlifh foil, That cannot yield much medicinal balm, To hjeal the wound a parent's hand has dealt you. Madame. But be of comfort, Lady ; as we are, We live to ferve you, while ourfelves are fafe. At fome fit feafon of recover 'd fpirits, We lhall requeft the ftory from your lips, Of what thus orphans you. Sideline. With willingnefs, As far as I have knowledge ; but my talc Is eafy told, nor do 1 know myfelf ? Why thus I fell under a father's nate< Lamotte. Of that anon ! Now our refrefhment calls. Pleafe you to enter. Adeline. I have but ilender \vifh For 3Ught, fave reit. The conflict I have pafs'd Beats at my heart, and fevers every fenfe. This friendly folitude, your generous pains, t FONTAIXVILLE FOREST. Will lull the throbbing fmart of my affliction, And give me power to obey you. Lamotte. Ever yours. [Exeunt. SCENE Without the Abbey. Jt Enter from the Gates. {Morning dawns?) 'Lamotte. Thus, like the favage lion from his lair, I wake to prowl for prey. My bufy brain Riots in varied fchemes of wickednefs, And drives me from my bed, before the bird, \Vhofe comfort fprings from the return of day. Light fhews me no relief! .The morn is frefh ; And hark ! the diftant hills ring with the found Of the glad horn ! The hunters are abroad : I'll dog their chace, and haply feize my prey, Man, the deftroyer, Man, and force the aid, That mifery expects not from his pity. [Exit. SCENE;* Wood. MARQUIS and two ATTENDANTS. 'Marquis. The chace fatigues I'll reft myfelf awhile You to your fport again. Anon, I'll join you, [Exeunt Attendants* If we could truft to our prefentiments, I had not ventur'd on the chace to-day, A tremulous reluctance to the laft FONTAINVILLE FOREST. ^ Flutter'd about my heart, and now I feel As if fome dreadful certainty of evil Had led me on to meet impending fate. Ha ! what att thou ? [Lamotte rujhes in, wild and difwvell'd. Lamotte. A wretch, a very wretch, Mad with defpair, and fell from biting poverty^ - Give me the means of life,- or take thy death.*, Marquis. Thou'ft caught me unawares, I'm in thy power. Lamotte. Off, off your jewels ! Come, your purfe difpatch ! Stir not 1 your life will anfwer ! Followers ! Surprifed ! Then only fpeed can lave me. s off. Re-enter ATTENDANTS. ijt Attendant. How's this, my Lord, you look aghaft with fear ? What wretch was that who fled at our approach ? Marquis. A robber : Somewhere in thefe foreft caves Mofl probably he lurks : Command my train, That there they make ftricl: fearch to-morrow early. ift Attendant. Will you know the villain's face again, my Lord ? Marquis. Certain ! He look'd not like a com- mon ruffian, One Ihrunk from fplendour rather hunted hard C 13 FONTAINVlLLE FOREST. By juftice he had fled, and doom'd to wrcfl His chance fu.pport from the lone palTenger, Whom, otherways, he harms not for my life, Unlike our robbers, he attempted not. i.d Attendant. He fnall be found, my Lord, e're morrow night, If here he lurk. Shall we fupport you hence ? Marquis. Alarm has quite enfeebled me Lead on Give up the chace to-day, Attendants. This \vay, my Lord. Ew/ SCENE. Another part of the Wood. Enter LAMOTTE. Lamotte. Despair has lent me wings ! I've burffc my way Through brake and briar ! Terror has fteel'd my frame ! 1 'fcap'd uiihurt. Unhurt ! O memory, I'm all one wound, while \ yet live to think 1 O dearly purchas'd wealth, won by the lofs Of future peace ! Up, damning baubles, up ! Clofe t;o the heart, which you have wrung from comfort ! , Hence, Monfter, hence, nor MJc^e beauteous. Hail, cavern'u glooms, to your deep made I fly, Darknefs myfelf, to give you living horror. [*;/,. END OF THE FIRST ACT. FONTAIXVILLE FOREST. SCENE An Apartment. MADAME LAMOTTE. followed by ADELINE. Madame. A Youth appearing much concern'dand eager? Adeline. He faid he fought in hafte a banifh'3 friend, Whom his conjecture fancied to fhroud here. Fear made me little note his lineaments, But he feem'd tall and comely. Madame. Where's my Lord ? Went he not forth with you this morning early > Adeline. Madame, with me ! In footh I have not feen him. Madame. Indeed ! that's ftrange. I thought he might have lur'd Your contemplation thro' thefe dreary ruins : Or giv'n advice, fo needful, in the wood, Apt for concealment. Adeline. Deareft lady, hear me ! Forgive me, if I meet your hard fufpicion, And earned in my vindication, own I feel at what it points. Madame. Nay, pafs it by ; For quick interpretation rather ftiews C 2 jj FONTAINVILLE FOREST. A mind that's arm'd by apprehenfion keen, And trembling for its myftery, than one Of confcious purity, which never guides Sufpicion's dart unto its deilin'd aim. Adeline. O Madam, I befeech you, hear your fervant ! If my poor heart harbour a thought of ill, Or, were it offer'd, would not fcorn to wrong you, May heav'n devote me to the ruffian's fteel, From which fo late its providence relieved me \ My fex's pride would arm my breaft wiih anger, . And difdain meet fufpicion undeferv'd ; But I'm a friendlefs orphan, thrown, alas ! Upon your pity, foften'd and fubdu'd By mifery unequall'd. By your peace, Your facred honour ! I conjure you, Madam, Difmifs th' unworthy doubts you entertain ! O, be a mother to my tender years, And form the heart, that's open as the day ! Madame. My lovely child, I cannot but betkvc you, And take mame on me, that I wrong'd fuch candour. Adeline. No more of this opprefs me not by goodnefs. (Embracing.') Madame. But I am yet to learn, my Adeline, How you have pafs'd your youth efhanged thus. From all parental fondnefs. If not painful, Befeech you fatisfy me with the tale. Adeline. My mother early dying, I was plac'd Within a neighbour-convent From my father CONTAIN VILLE FOREST. 13. Oft I heard, kindly, 'till maturing years Afk'd for difpofal ; I was then giv'n to know His choice affign'd for me the virgin veil, And banifli'd me for ever from the world. Madame. The with was not uncommon ; but you found Objections infurmountable to yielding. Adeline. O mod weighty were they ! I had feen The fad condition of our fiflerhood, And all their holy fpells were loft upon me ; Drawn the fo-feeming veil of happinefs From faces, folitude faw wrung with anguifh ! A convent is the fcene of hopelefs tears, Of heart- %ruck melancholly, dumb defpair, Of vifionary guilt and vain repentance, Inceflant horrors, poor diffimulation^ My heart revolted from it. Madame. But your father! How bore he this refufal ? Adeline. With difpleafure. At length he fix'd a day to take me thence. A day, long wifh'd for ! but it rofe at length O, day of terrors. To that houfe they led me A deftin'd facrifice I pray'd, implor'd In vain ! my fenfes fled me on recovery I was delivered to a Granger's care, Who bore me here, to give my youth a parent. Madame. My deareft daughter, you fhall find a mother ; And what my fondnefs can fuggeft, or yield, To aid or comfort you, depend on fafely. 14 FONTAINVILLE FOREST. Enter LAMOTTE. Lamotte. Is all here fafe ? On entering jufl now, The outer porch, I faw a human figure, Gliding myfterioufly along the hall He heard the noife I made ; and led thereby, He folio w'd me in hafle ; I clos'd the trap, And left him pacing 'crofs the gallery To find the door, by which I Ycap'd his fearch. Madame. He, then, it was acceded Adeline, Without the abbey, in the morning early. Lamotte. How look'd he ? Adeline. Little like an emiflary Bent to entrap us, but fome friendly Queft, Eager to bring us comfort, Lamotte. Sure my fon ! Louis, (without.) Lamotte ! Lamotte ! Lamotte. Hufli! hark! O fenfes, mock me not! Enter Louis, My fon ! my fon ! (embracing him.) Louis. My dear, dear father, found Againft all likelihood ! My mother too, My joy o'erpowers me quite ! Forgive me, Lady, (To Adeline.') The alarm I muft have caus'd you, and command My utmofl fervices. Adeline. To fee you thus FONTAINVILLE FOREST. if Repaid your pious labour, fills my breaft With rapturous feelings never known before. Madame. My darling fon, own an adopted fitter, By providence directed to our arms, To foothe and to confole our lonely life ! Her flory you mall hear, and weep, at leifure. Louis. I bind her to my heart with deareft in- tereft. Enter PETER (kaflily.) Lamotte. Now what has chanc'd ? Peter. Sir, fince your entrance here, I hied me to the turret, to obferve If any danger menac'd ; at fome diltance I faw a troop of horfemen fhape their courfc Toward the abbey Be prepared, befeech you ! My dear young mafter too ! (kisses his hand.) Louis. My worthy friend ! Hafte, Peter, to your poft again ; obferve All vigilantly. Peter. I am gone, dear mafler. [_Exif. Adeline. Who can they be; Twere beft you hide awhile. Lamotte. O there's no need : you find they've turn'd afide; Travellers, no doubt, who rode up but to gaze Upon a ruin fo magnificent. But tell me, fon, faw you our friend Nemours ? Louis. He charg'd me, if my fearch Ihou'd find your courfe, 16 F6NTAINVILLE FOREST. That you'd communicate your views to him, And let him always know where to addrefs you* Lamotte. And 1 will, Louis, for Nemours, I think, Is fingularly honeft. Louis. He's fincere, and plain, Clear and deciuve ; knavery alone Would darken juftice ! and the pleader's heart Should be as open as his face is clofe, ,To aid indeed the client he would ferve. (Violent knocking!) Lamotte. Diftradion, I am loft, what's to be done ? Adeline. May I advife, conceal yourfelf bslow ; We will remain as Teeming dwellers here, And thus difarm fufpicion. . Hence, dear father. [Exit Lamotte. Footjleps beard. Enter the MARQUIS, who ad- vances* His attendants fill tbcjlage behind. Marquis. Amazement ! Village-rumour, then-, I fee, Fell fhort of our new tenants. In me, Lady, You view the owner of this ruin'd abbey ; Happy, moft happy, if, to you or yours, It have been ferviceable ; but inftrudt me, How fo much feeming worth cou'd need fuch fhclter ? Sirs, you may wait without until I call. [Exeunt Attendants. FONTAINVILLE FOREST. i? (Particularly attentive to Adeline?) Madame. My Lord, the tale at full were, wea- rifome, And long it were to tell ; but briefly this, My hufband and myfelf, our fon and daughter, CompelFd from Paris by misfortune, fought A flicker from purfuit in this drear fpot. Louis. The inveteracy of our enemies, my Lord, We hope, ere long, to foften ; if meanwhile Your goodnefs mall allow this fandtuary, You bind us ever to your generous pity. Marquis. Take freely that requeft- but where's your hufband ? A Sliding Pannel opens, LAMOTTE advances. Lamotte. At hand, my Lord, with tears to thank your bounty (Seeing the Marquis)~ Ha ! fwallow me, earth ! [Starts. Madame runs to fupport him, the Mar- quis puts his hand to his fword t and after a few moments turns off as to fummon his attendants.^ Adeline. Befeech you, day, my Lord ! Lamotte would fpeak ! my father would explain ! Lamotte. Return ! return ! My Lord, vouch- fafe one word In private ! (frantically ) Marquis. You beft know whether 'tis prudent To grant this, after what has paft betwixt us. You can have nought to fay, but what with me Your family may fhare. D fg FONTAIN'VILLE FOREST. Lamotte. By my defpair, I vow thcfe lips fhall keep eternal (ilencc, Ere to another I reveal the tale, That's due 10 you alone. Miirqttis. You have your wifh. Lamotte. Firft then, my Lord, take this to ba- nilri doubt ; (Gives hisfwd.} My life will thus be in your power But hear me L I'll lead you to fome privacy. Marquis. I follow. [Exeunt ambo. Manent MADAME, ADELINE, Louis. Madame* What can this mean ? Louis, know you the ftranger ? Louis. No; but 'tis probable he may be one Incens'd againft my father from fome lofs, Incurr'd by play, and now feeks reftitution. Enter PETER. Ptter. My Lord's attendants waiting in the hall, I afk'd them who their matter was ? They told me The Marquis of Montault he has a caftle Hard by here, and thefe, our apartments now, Were long fince furnifh'd as a hunting lodge, To accommodate the prefent Lord's late brother- Adeline. Madam, let me befeech you to retire, Their difference I doubt not is compos'd. Madame. I'm loft in wonder at it O my huf- band ! [Exeunt. FONTAINVILLE FOREST. 19 SCENE A remote Apartment. Enter LAMOTTE MARQJTIS. Marquis. This place has privacy to fuit your purpofe. Speak, I am all attention. Lamotte. O my Lord, Pity the agonies you fee me furFer ! Have mercy on a wretch, whofe poverty Stung him to madnefs ! At your feet 1 fall Subiniflive to your fentence Spare my life ! And think my crime atton'd by thefe deep hor- rors ! O fave a family that never wrong'd you ! All, all ftiall be reftor'd If worlds could buy That peace of mind with which I enter'd here, I'd filence my compunction by the gift. Marquis. Rife, Sir, take back your fword, and hear my anfwer. You may be worth my clemency, and I Incline to fpare you but at leaft fome teft Should prove your deep repentance of the crime. Lamotte. If my whole life, with zeal devoted to you, Can but atone, expofe it to all hazards, None will I Ihrink from you may point me to, So you but add your filence to forgivenefs. Marquis. Extravagant profeffions I regard not. The fjril teft I exact from you is truth, D 2 2o FONTAINVILLE FOREST. Who is that lovely maid I faw but now ? Is fhe vcur daughter ? Lamotte. No, my Lord, fhe is not. Chance threw her on my care ; an orphan friend* Ids, And, but for me, devoted by a ruffian, To favage daughter. Marquis. Well, Lamotte, this fair one May heal the breach between us She has beauty That ftruck me at firft fight I'll fee her fhortly. Excufe my prompt .departure to your wife, And lead her to expedt my frequent vifits. Our difcord may be ftil'd miftake, expbin'd At length, and fettled into friendfhip. For 'Tis with yourfelf, to fix, or loofe the bands. Lamotte, good night. Lamotte. I reft your grateful fervant, ^Exeunt* SCENE. Another Apartme.it* MADAME LAMOTTE. Madame. How painful this fufpenfe ! How ftrange the caufe ! I've loft myfelf in crude and wild conjecture, And find no clue to dreadful certainty. One thing indeed feems likely this late (hock, And his paft melancholy, fpring alike From one, one fatal fource. My hufband comes! O how this interval has wrung ray foul ! FONTAINVILLE FOREST. 21 / Enter LAMOTTE. Where is the Marquis ? Lamotte. Gone Now to prepare For interrogatories, fpringing all From raging curiofity, that fever, Which dries up all the virtue of your fex ! Madame. I pardon a reproach I feel unmerited. Nor would I urge you to unwilling converfe. For I would iborhe your mind, not irritate Its iecret wounds but anfwer me this queftion, Did your late terror fpring from the iame caufe As ail before it ? Lamotte. Woman, forbear your queftions ! I have no temper, or to hear, or anfwer. Have I not long forbidden you to mention, Or hint even at this fubject ? Madame. Hint at what ? ^arnotte. O, true. I thought you had men- tioned it before. Madame. Nay then, I mud fufpedr. my notion grounded. Lamotte. Sufpeft not, nor -enquire; for 'twill be fruitlefs. Whate'erthe caufe of my late wild emotions, J will not now difclofe it. Time may come Concealment will no more be neccdary. Madame. A needlefs caution tow'ards your fond Hortenfia; But do your pleafure. Lamotte. In the mean time, this FUXTA1NVILLE FOREST. Note not to any aught uncommon in me ; Bury fufpicion deep ift your own breaft, As you'd avoid our ruin and my curfes. [Exeunt* SCENE. An Apartment. ADELINE alone. Addlne. I've heard of fix'd antipathies in minds, And mortal loathing to peculiar objects ! No caufe to be ailign'd but ihudd'ring nafure ! I feel it is fo : for my very foul Sickcn'd at yonder Marquis Yet he look'd Difpos'd to do me kindnefs, much obfervant ; Hated civility, obfervance painful \ Tis like we fee him often, while his pity Continues to Lamottethis place of ilielter. Well, what of that ? Improvident alarm ! erne then to my chamber How ! \Kiux1u }ne knocks. Enter Louis. L:- ' . My Adeline, may 1 intrude Po tell you what hath chanc'd fmce you retir'd ? A,'.- line. Mod welcome. L^r. Then, the Marquis is fct off, LI fcen^ing kindnefs, and my father now awn to his Apartment much difturb'd. .'inf. Where is my gracious lady, your dear mother ? Ufo retir'd At his return, in forrow, FONTAINVILLE FOREST. tj She queflion'd on the daufe of his late horror, And I o'erheard him loudly chide her love. Adeline, Alas, dear lady, how my heart bleeds for her \ I never knew the comfort of a mother Until her kindnefs rous'd the filial fondnefs. Louis. O think, fweet, tender faint, my feel- ings for her ! When home return'd from the alarms of war, Mine from my earlieft youth, I found that home Seiz'd on by legal harpies, while its lord, A fugitive, had (torn away by night From the dread ills of paffion unreftrain'd. Think of thefe fligmas on a foldier's pride, Flufli'd with the darling fame of victory ! Adeline. Yes, I can feel the difappointing an- guiih. But let not this reproof decreafe our love : My brother, I'm fo much indebted there, That life can yield no means of recompence To the preferver of this injurYLbeing. Louis. Would only I had been fo bleft, to prove The faviour of diftrefled Adeline ! Adeline. And let me fay, were I again to need one, I know not any friend to whom my heart Would with more pleafure pay its gratitude, Louis. Tranfporting founds ! O let me not be thought Prefuming, if I thus difcard the mafk, * 4 FOXTAINVILLE FOREST. Which ill conceals the love that is my glory ! My foul is yours. , ' Adeline. For your efteem I thank you, ' Deeply, believe me ; but your own good fenfe c Will teach you how improper the purfuit ' Of one like me, with paffion fo ill-judg'd, ' You fee I throw away all coy referve, ' And do not ev'n aifeft to mifs your meaning. ' Louis. My heart is bounden to your generous ' candour; * Yet how can I forbear to fpeak of that, f Which flows thro' and informs my very being ? r Adeline. Your pardon here I end this confer- ence I beg I may be fpar'd I would not hear Aught that may make my bed opinion of you. Louis. Farewell, my Adeline; may fpirits of peace Settle upon that bofom in repofe, And fancy, if (he ftirs beneath their wings, Prefent my love obedient to your will. [E.v/7. Adeline, (after a paafe.) The night is rough, and through thefe matter'd cafements, The wind in fhritling blafts fweeps the old hang- ings. Whether the place alone puts fuch thoughts in me, I know not ; but aflcep, or waking, ftill Conviction haunts me, that fome myftery Is ^vrapt within thefe chambers, which my fate Will have me penetrate. The falling guft FONTAINVILLE FOREST. 25 With feeble tone expires like dying fighs The tap'ftry yonder makes, as tho' fome door Open'd behind it (takes her lamp) Ha ! 'tis fo ; the bolt, Tho' rufty, yields unto my hand; I'll fee To what it leads. How, if I fink with fear ? And fo benumb'd, life freeze away in horror ? No matter, powerful impulie drives me onward, And my foul rifes^to the coming terror. [Exit. SCENE changes to a melancholy Apartment. The Windows beyond reach , and grated* An old Ca- nopy in the dijlance y with a torn Set of. Hanging- Tapejlry. Enter ADELINE. Adeline. I muft be cautious, left the fudden blaft Extinguifh my faint guide. ' I'll place the lamp ' Behind this dickering bulk.' What's this I tread on ? A dagger, all corroded by the ruft ! Prophetic foul! Yes, murder has been bufy ! A chilly faintnefs creeps acrofs my heart, And checks the blood that drives in vain to follow. [Paufe, Jits down, I feel recover'd, and new ftrength is giv'n me ! 'Tis deftiny compels, On to my tafk. Yon tattcr'd ruin yawns to tempt enquiry. [Touches it, all falls doivn* What fcroll thus meets me in the falling lumber? 4 E 2 6 FONTAINVILLE FOREST. Let me examine it : blurr'd all by damps ; Mouldy, in parts illegible. I'll hence now : The waning light warns me to gain my chamber. Infpire me, great Avenger ! Angels guard me ! [Exit. THE END OF THE SECOND ACT. FONTAINVILLE FOR.EST. 27 ACT III, SCENE* ^4* Apartment. Enter ADELINE. Adeline. JL MUST conceal yon parchment till I fee What it contains. Madame Lamotte approaches. The terrors that have hover'd o'er my flumbers, May well alone account for my difturbance. Enter MADAME LAMOTTE. Madame. Good morrow, deareft daughter but how's this ? You look, my love, in a diforder'd ftate, As though alarm had ruffled your repose. ' sideline. 'Tis likely, Madam, for the night * has pafs'd < In vifions fo bewildering, and dreadful, ' That Nature (hudders under their impreffidn.* O my lov'd mother, I have firm conviction, That fome attrocious at has flain'd this place, In which my fate will have me interefted. Madame. But tell^ what thus leads you to in- fer fo ? * What were thofe vifions ?' Adeline. I had fcarcely funk In {lumber, when my fancy's bufy range Produc'd before me thefe connected hoi'rors. . E 2 *8 FONTAINYILLE FOREST. Methought, within a 'wretched old apartment, A dying Cavalier, weltering in blood, Lay ftretch'd upon the floor. By name he call'd me, A deadly palenefs fpread o'er all his features; Yet look'd he mod benign, with mingled love, And majefty. While thus I gaz'd upon him, His face feem'd flruck with death ; the chilly dews And fhuddering agonies came on. I darted He feized me with convulfive violence Striving to difengage my hand, once more I caught his eye, it brighten'd into glory ! He gaz'd on me with fondnefs his lips mov'd, As they would fpeak but then the opening ground Gave him fwift way, and fliut him from my fight. f Madame. My dear, dear child, the Abbey's f conftant gloom, Or the rude terrors of the day gone by, ( Doubtlefs imprefs'd thefe fancies on your mind. ' Adeline. O but they ceas'd not there. Mark ' the coherence. ' Again I dreamt I thought before me pafs'd One cloth 'd in black, as for fomc funeral rite. ' He beckoned me I follow'd till he came ' Unto a Kier, upon the which lay dead The perfon teen before. As I approach'd, ' A ftream of blood well'd from his wounded fide, ' And fill'd the chamber groans then fmote my * ear ; FONTAINVILLE FOREST. 9 * Again one call'd upon me : Horror's hand e Grafp'd me fo itrongly, that I fudden wak'd, 6 Nor could convince myfelf that I had dream'd, ' The agonizing vifion did fo fhake me.' n O Madame. I would not have you yield to fuch illusions ; They do ufurp the pow'rs, that make life happy, And thickly cloud the funlhine of the mind. Think no more of them. But, my Adeline, Know you what late hath pafs'd ? My Lord, the Marquis, Is now fo faft our friend, that he be flows Not merely this concealment, but his intereft On our behalf, and means to fee us often. Adeline. Believe me, I rejoice at aught may add To your content, ev'n fhould it marr my own. Madame. Lamotte reports, my Adeline, fuch praife Exprefs'd of your appearance by the Marquis, As led him to believe the warmth of love Infpir'd the proud eulogium. Adeline '. Compliment, Mere compliment, I doubt not ; for the Marquis Is of the ftamp of fafhion, current oft With fair profeffion of dilfembled worth. Madame. Nay, I mould chide thefe prepofTef- iions, love ; The Marquis now is our approved friend. Adeline. I know it But if I might be indulgM In ab fence when he vifits here,, my heart, And yet I know not why, would feel the lighter. 30 TONTAINVlLLE FOREST. Enter Louis. Louis. Madam, the Marquis juft arriv'd below, In converfe with my father, begs the honour To pay in perfon his refpe&s. He hopes The lovely Adeline will there attend you. Madame. We come immediately. My dear, go down I'll join you inftantly Louis, a word. [Exit with Louis. Adeline. 1 go : Be llill, ye bufy apprehenfions ! Now to conceal lurking antipathy Beneath the guize of lowly gratitude ; O when will clear integrity be mine, That fafely may difdain to look a falfehood ? [Exit. SCENE Another Apartment. Enter MARQJTIS and LAMOTTE. Marquis. In fhort, Lamotte, persuade her to compliance ; You may acquaint her too, that'hcr fierce father, Repenting that he fpar'd her, claims his child, And that my power alone protects her from him. Be firm my advocate, and I confent To wave refentment for my injuries. Lamotte. In this and all things I obey with zeal. She's coming down PH leave you foan together ; Coynefs is ilronger made by comp;. FONTAINVILLE FOREST. 31 Enter ADELINE. Now mark me, Adeline You know our fum Of obligation to this generous Lord ; He honours you with fentiments of love; Hear them attentively, and fo determine, As beft becomes your prudence, our condition. [Exif. Marquis. My charming Adeline, at length my fortune Indulges me with opportunity, To pour the tenderer! paflion out before you, And thus declare the conqueft you have made. Adeline. So little known, my Lord, I take no pride In the diftinction, for it tells me plainly 'Twas but a worthlefs outfide has procur'd it. Marquis. Nay, wrong me not, for from the exterior fhew Of all perfection, fhould we not infer The purity within, that gives the whole Its harmony and grace > Adeline. O, what a world Were this, how excellently fair and perfect, Did through its beauteous mafs, no canker creep, To infect, unfeen, the lovelinefs of nature ! Marquis. Why feek to dim the luftre of thofe eyes, Why throw a flur upon Creation's pride, The matchlefs treafure of her bounty, now Lock'd in the winning form of Adeline ? 32 FONTAINVILLE FOREST. Adeline. In flattery, the fo be-praifed maid "Ne'er found one charm to lift her felf-efteem : Hear me ingenuouily, while I lay The fimple dictates of my heart before you. ' Marquis. Nay, now at leaft, I may in turn ' object ' Precipitation, iince you know not yet f The grounds on which your wifdom Ihould de- ' cide.' Adeline. For your attention I am grateful, Sir, But I fliould wrong the truth, myfelf and candour, If, confident that I can never change, 1 did not now decline the gbod you mean me, Marquis. This is the language of your inexpe- rience. Confider well your fituation here, Expas'd to fhare the perils that furround A baniih'd man With me you will partake The elegance of life, and all the joys That bafe and fordid penury repines at. * No wifh that e'er can rife within the heart ' Of flill defiring woman, but my care ' Shall drive to anticipate, 'ere words be giv'n it.* Adeline. My Lord, you tempt me not by phrafe like this. Such as myfelf, feafon'd within the fchool Of poverty, nor covet, nor regard A fplendour, commonly the foe to virtue, * What moft I wifh for, is to be allow 'd ' Th' indulgence of this folitude awhile, ' To heal the wounds fo deep inflicted here.* FONTAINVILLE FOREST. 33. i Marquis. This lonely place will rather fix a gloom For ever on your youth, that Ihould be led To happier fcenes of gay, voluptuous love. Adeline. I thank you, Sir, for thus at once dif- playing The glaring infamy defign'd for me ! An honourable purpofe had received At leaft my gratitude ev'n in rejection ; But this, for its mean infult, has my fcorn. [Exit* Marquis. Stay, I conjure you ! Hear me Ade- line ! She's gone, and plainly underftood my purpofe. Well, ,well, my faucy virtue, we ihall find Decoys may lure this foaring bird to ftoop ; And fnatch at offer'd marriage Now, Lamotte ! Enter LAMOTTE. Lamotts. How's this, my Lord ; went (he in anger from you ? Marquis. Even but now She's better fortified Than I expected : young and beautiful, I look'd that raptures would have caught her tafte; But {he's of cold and prudifli temperature, And feigns to hate the ardour (he folicits. Lamoite. I fear you fpoke too plainly ; Adeline Is convent-bred;, to be approach'd by flow, And feeming pure devotion nor, until The holy ritual fan&ifies embf aee, Will (he e'er fink the faint in willing woman, F 34 FONTAINVTLLE FOREST. Marquis. 'Tis plain ; fhe hinted marriage : be it fo. When next I meet her, we mufl wear a face Of foberer meaning. Do you lead her think What pafs'd was but the froth of gallantry Harmlefs, tho* warm, the language of the world. Lamotte. Only, my Lord, be cautious of Hor- tenfia! Once in her breaft the flame of jealoufy Was kindled on this girl's account ; but now She loves her fo entirely, that her rafhnefs Would fruflrate all. Marquis. That Ihould indeed be heeded : for, in defpite of all this fwelling anger, She mufl be mine by kindnefs, or by force. [Exeunt. SCENE An Apartment. Enter Louis and PETER. Louis. How fay 'ft thou, Peter one brought here by night, And clofe confined ? Peter. The neighbours fay fo clofely, That no one ever faw him afterward; This did I learn here hard by, at Auboine : And they do add, that here he sure was murder'd, And no one fmce has flept within the abbey. Louis. Did any guefs who the deceafed was ? Peter. No none cou'd e'er conjecture aught about him. Louis. Whea did this happen ) FONTAINVILLE FOREST. j; Peter. Why, about the time The prefent Marquis came to his eftates, On the demife of the late Lord, his brother. Louis. Where then did he die ? Peter. O, abroad they fay ; Slain in the field but for the man connVd, By flow degrees the rumour died away, And all enquiry ceas'd. Louis. A flrange adventure ! Peter. My dear young matter, if I not miflake, Nought that refpects the lovely Adeline To you will be indifferent Of late I have o'erheard my mafter and yon Marquis In deep cabal, and (lie the fubjecl: of it : Much do my fears inform me, out of hints And broken fentences, that harm is meant her. Louis. My worthy friend, I thank thee. Yes, indeed, Deep is the intereft I feel for her ; But fure my father never would confent To aught of violent means I know the Marquis Follows with eyes of love, her fweet perfections, And hopes his rank and fplendour may allure her. Peter. But me endures him not This very morn, She left him difcompos'd, her lovely cheek Flufh'd with the anger of infulted virtue. Louis. You muft be vigilant You know the pow'r And danger too that wait about this Lord. Peter. O fear me not. The fenfe of apprehenfion Is quicken'd by the body's feeblenefs Fa 36 -FONTAINVILLE FOREST. But I am old and worthlefs, and, fweet mailer, Were my laft throb of life to flit away In the dear caufe of innocence opprefs'd, How could my death have better preparation ? Louis. No more of this juft now. I'll to the Marquis, For I muft feem attentive while he flays ; And fure this ftormy night will here detain him. Ptter. I'll bring you what intelligence I gleaa From his domeftics to your honour's chamber. Louis. Farewell, then, and be trufly, my fellow. Enter LAMOTTE. Lamotte. Now, Sir, what tale of folly hnve you glean'd From yonder babbler ? Louis. Nothing I regard much. He was recounting the credulity Of the near hamlet, touching this our dwelling. Lamotte. All fabulous, J doubt not. Some o c murder'd, And that flale lie, a fpirit following it. Louis. Somewhat indeed of that kind was the flory ; You know it to be idle by experience, Longer at leaft than mine. Lamotte. O idle all ! Louis. And yet they could not well have been miftaken In one fo brought here ! FONTAINVILLE FOREST. 37 Lamottf. No, not well, I think. Louis. "Pis likeliest they removed him hence by night. Lamotte. Mod likely. > Louis. For we mould not ralhly credit A rumour might throw fcandal on a friend. Lamotte. No, by no means. That mouldering cheft I faw Louis. How ! Lamotte. Did I fay I faw it ? I miftook, boy 'Tis faid, contains a body, which flill lies Unburied in the fecret chamber. Louis. Still ! Have you then feen the relics of the man, Said to have perrfhed here ? Lamotte. Who, I, my fon ? Not I I fay again, 'tis the report. Louis. My father is unwell. Lamotte. Much indifpos'd ! Somewhat now raps me, and my bufy brain Is crofs'd with incoherency unufual. Say, have you lately look'd abroad, my fon ? Louis. But now. The gathering gloom is deep'ning round, And every fign foretells a dreadful fhock Of elemental war Our noble guelt Stays in the abbey, I prefume, to-night ? Lamotte. He does. O, Louis 'twere good that you endeavour'd To chace that fev'rifti tale from Peter's brain ; If He ftiould e'er poflefs the women with ir, 160215 38 FONTAINVILLE FOREST. Our time would pafs delightfully indeed. Louis. To-morrow, with your leave, I lhall fet out For Paris on affairs concern us nearly. Lamotte. I had forgot. Nemours I'll write to, then You fhall bear my letter. No, the Marquis Muft not, in thought, be tainted by thefe ru- mours ! (A/ide.) Attend me to my chamber Myftery all ! (Afide.) [Exeunt. SCENE T^e fecret Apartment, gloomy and rude 9 only cleared of tie Lumber formerly there. Adeline alone. Adeline. At lafl I am alone ! And now may venture To look at the contents of this old manufcript. A general horror creeps thro' all my limbs, And almoit ftifles curiofity. (Reads.} " The wretched Philip, Marquis of Montaulr, t( Bequeaths his forrows to avenging time. ** O you, whate'er ye are of human kind, (( To whom this fad relation of my woes " Shall come, afford your pity to a being, " Shut from the light of day, and doom'd to perim." - O Heav'n, the dagger! Yes, my fears were founded. " They fciz'd me as I reach'd the neighbour wood, FONTAINVILLE FOREST. 39 ft Bound and then brought me here ; at once I knew (C The place, the accurs'd defign, and their em- ployer, " Yet, O my brother, I Jiad never wrong'd you." His brother ! What, yon Marquis ? Phantom. Even he. (heard within the chamber.) Adeline. Hark ! Sure I heard a voice ! No, 'tis the thunder That rolls its murmurs thro' this yawning pile. " They told me I mould not furvive three days, " And bade me choofe, or poifori, or the fword ; " O God, the horrors of each bitter moment t " The ling'ring hours of day, the fleeplefs night ! M.irquis. Plunge it Lamotte. Where ? Marquis. Deep in the heart of Adeline. \Lamoitefiarts. Traitor, is this thy fricndfhip ? FONTAINVILLE FOREST. SJ Lamotte. Allow me but fome moments of re- flection. The death of Adeline ! of her fo lov'd, Her whom you follow'd with fuch warmth of fondnefs ? Marquis. Aye. She is now the rancour of my peace, And while (he lives, plants daggers in my breafl. She muft be dead, and inftantly Now anfwer. Lamotte. My Lord, altho' the ad: with fudden. horror > Startled my fix'd refolve, to do your bidding- Yet mew me how it may be done with fafety, And 1 confent. Marquis. Nothing more eafy thus. My good JLamotte, it mufl be done this night.^ You can with eafe enter her chamber, and There rid me of my fole remaining fear I will return to-morrow, and then think How I can belt reward my kindefl friend. Lamotte. Conclude it done, my Lord. Marquis. Lamotte, good day. \Exit. Lamotte. O molt accomplifh'd villain ! wretche4 flave ! There can be no alternative but this Or (he muft be deftroy'd or I fhall perifli. Behold the miferable lot of guilt ! One crime but pulls another on our heads-, And flill the laft is weightier than the former, O, never let the luxury of life 56 FONTAINVILLE FOREST. Seduce weak man from the fixM rules of honour ! From meannefs, guilt is never far remov'd ; The tide of hell-born paffions fwells within him, And whelms the foul in fathomlefs perdition. [Exit. THE END OF THE FOURTH ACT. rONTAINVILLE FOREST. 57 SCENE the Foreft. (Moonlight.) Enter MARQUIS. Marquis* W HEN can ambition lay him down fecure Of ill- got power, and dread no retribution ? While one flave lives who minifter'd his purpofe, He is not iafe Witnefs that curs'd Laval The villain ftarted not to flay his prince At my command but for the infant child, He fpar'd her to defeat my pixmdeft hopes* She lives in Adeline Furies of Hell ! To tempt me thus with damning inceft too ! And bid me crufh the form I would enjoy ! Jaques ! How now ? What ! Have you found Laval ? Enter JAQJJES. Jaques. No, my good Lord, nor heard late ti- dings of him. His townfmen fay he left the country fuddenly ; And fince he went, nothing has e'er occnr'd To lead them to the knowledge of his courfe. Marquis. Make more enquiries ftill He muft be found, And filenc'd by the only certain means. I 5? FONTAINVILLE FOREST. Lamotte may play me falfe If 10, he dies; And this firm hand mail feal down Adeline In fleep eternal Jaques, command your fellows To guard the lanes that iffue from the wood- And on their lives, permit no one to pafs. If they do intercept, during the night, Any thing human, fee the fugitive Be recondudted to the abbey yonder, For there I mall expert you. Jaques. Well, my Lord. [Exeunt* SCENE The Hal!. A J mil Gatefeen. Enter LAMOTTE and MADAME. Madame* Why have you left your chamber thus, my hufband ; Wherefore thefe haggard looks, as though defpair Ufurp'd the feat of murderous fuggeftion ? Your vacant eye rolls its ftill cheated fenfe, And you feem wrapt in horror. Lamotte. Frenzy, wife, Preffes upon my brain Hark, fome one knocks ! Look out ! It is the Marquis ! Lo ! He comes ! In fierce refentment punifhes my pity, And now I cannot fave her. Madame. No one comes ; Thro' the ftill abbey not a murmur breathes. Lamotte. My fenfe returns- make hafte, my Adeline ! Oh fave me, by thy flight, eternal pangs ! She comes ! She comes ! FONTAINVILLE FOREST. $5 Enter ADELINE and PETER. Lamotte. Peter, is all prepared ? Give me the cloak this will be neceffary ; The weather elfe will chill my angel ! There ! Peter, be fure you take the road to Paris. Peter. I know a narrow unfrequented track That leads out to the road the way's direct. Madame. Adieu, dear Adeline ! Adeline. My beft of parents ! Lamotte. Enquire Nemours out on arrival there Nay, no leave taking ! we have not a moment. [Exeunt Adeline and Peter. Madame. Alas ! Lamotte, I tremble to enquire Thecaufe of this confufion but our Adeline Lamotte. Was on the precipice's very verge, And but this flight, no power here could fave her. Hortenfia, O thou never wilt believe To what a wretch accurs'd, thy fate has join'd thee. I pledg'd my hopes, my life to yonder Marquis, To murder her this night. Madame. Whom, Adeline ? Her you fo lately fnatch'd from brutal force ? Lamotte. Ev'n her. There's fuch a coil around me, wife, That, not to have done it, may be fatal to us- Know, that to fave thee from the gripe of hunger, One fatal morn I ru(h j d into that wood Bent upon plunder Damning infamy Soon pointed out a fubject, and he prov'd 12 60 FONTAINV1LLE FOREST. Madame. The Marquis of Montault Thou, good Lamotte, Thus goaded by a villain, how I grieve That confidence denied me, fhould thus fink thee! Oh, jiever let one wedded wanderer blufli To give his errors to connubial truft ! The bofom of a wife's a fanctuary, Where fad confeflion may repofe his weaknefs, And thence derive comfort that leads to virtue. Lamotte.} own. my error; deareft love, forgive me. Madame. What's beft now to be done ? Lamotte. Fly with the dawn, I dare not meet the Marquis. Madame. Yet, at worft, His fear of your difclofure may preferve you. Lamotte. Well thought on. Come, we'll make fhort preparation ; Then, if this favage, eager after blood, Roam not the foreft> 'ere the peep of day, We'll truft ourfelves on foot to mercy's care. Madame. I mall not feel fatigue while you arc happy. jts they are going out t enter the MARQUIS. Marquis. Lamotte ! Well, my friend ; [Exit Madame. Say, am I happy haft thou done the deed ? Lamotte. I have, my Lord Here Adeline wakes no more. The fierceft fpirit of the murdering fiends, I think infpir'd me. FONTAINVILLE FOREST. 61 Marquis. Friendfhip fuch as this Demands the warmeft gratitude ; command me, And all my fortune's means to do you fervice. Lamotte. But hear the manner of it In her bed She lay all difcompos'd by Fancy's vifions, And in her fleep Ihe call'd on me by name ; Implor'd my pity, and befought my aid To fnatch her from the power of you, her tyranO I bade her wake, and thunder'd in her ear, 'Twas in your caufe I came thus to deftroy her. Would you had feen her then ! In rage I rulh'd, Enring'd thefe fingers in her golden hair, And plung'd the thirfting poniard in her breaft ; She ftruggled not forgave me and expir'd. Marquis. Ha ! this o'erftrain'd defcription bids mejdoubthim. (4fi& e ') Where is the body ? Bring me to the place. Lamotte. My Lord, for fear of a difcovery, I cramm'd it into an old cheft within Which feem'd before to have ferv'd the fame oc~ cafion, And buried it in hafte, without your orders, Deep in a cave, hard by here in the foreft. Marquis. What fhould I think ! Jaques not yet return'd Yes, here he comes. (Goes to him.) Enter JAOJJES. Well, have you captur'd any ? Jaques. A lady and an old man feiz'd on horfe- back, fe FONTAINV1LLE FOREST. Marquis. Conduct them to our prefence in- tfantly. [Exit Jaqucs. Impudent villain I thy high-labour'd tale Gave thee at every word the cleareft falfehood ; But I have other proof. Thou haft difpatchcd her With Peter through the foreft. Lamotte. Well, I own it. I know the greateft peril of the act ; The die is thrown, and I abide the hazard. Marquis. Wretch, whom my foolifh mercy once has fpar'd, Hope not to 'fcape again thy juft deferts. Thy life is in my power, and by my vengeance Shall expiate the robbery on our perfon. Lamotte. I fear you not. Proclaim your ac cufation, Ev'n on the inftant, I will brand your honour With the feduction of my foul to murder. Marquis. Do fo. Thou wretched fool, who will believe thee ? When grac'd with all the eloquence of rank, I (land to anfwer to the fullied charge Made by an ontlaw'd gambler, and a robber, Can you e'er hope it will be credited ? Lamotte. If I have fav'd her, I fhall die with tranfport. Marquis. See her brought back to thank thef for that faying. FONTAINVILLE FOREST. 63 Enter ADELINE, and PETER guarded. Adeline. O, good Lamotte, my wretched fate has funk thee ! How (hall I bear to fee my injur'd mother ! Enter MADAME. Madame. What horror meets me. Adeline returned ! Marquis. Madam, retire the ftrict demands of juftice Have too much terror, when they reach a huf- band. [Madame about to fupplicate. Lamotte. Hortenfia, not one word in my behalf! I go to anfwer to offended juftice ; But, Marquis, Ihould thy fatal thirft of blood Perfifl in the defign to me entrufled, Unheard of miferies muft await fuch outrage. Marquis. Bear her to dole confinement in- ftantly. Madame. Never, my lovely child, rny darling friend, O, I can never lofe thee J Man of terrors, I charge thee, fee thou wound not innocence Pure as the Ihrines of faints. Marquis. Bear off the women ! In feparate chambers fee them flridly guarded. [Taken apart. Seize you that ruffian^-Lo, the very wretch, WIio lately robb'd us in the wood adjacent. 64 FONTAINVILLE FOREST. Enter Louis. Louis. Hold off your hands, you fervile Mi- nifters, Or my quick rage fhall trample you to earth. Marquis. Audacious {tripling ! know, within my power Is placed the fate of yonder wretched plunderer. Or give my pleafure way, or thou thyfelf, Ram Minion, ftialt repent this bold intrufion. Louis. What, is it thus in France ? that a foul murderer, Harden'd in crimes himfelf, and ftain'd with blood, Shall deal his fentence out on virtuous men, And write his ruffian vengeance in their hearts ! O foil accurs'd ! I know thee then no more. Marquis. Infolent villain ! Silence for thy life ! Louis. My life is plae'd under too high a guard For the afiaffin's fteel to reach at it. It is devoted to difclofe thy crimes, And fo appeafe a murder'd brother's (hade. Come forth, Nemours ! Enter Marquis. Now, Sir, what make you here ? Nemours. Behold in me the delegate exprefs E'en from thy Sovereign v ftcd with the powers To bring thee ftraight to anfwer to a charge FONTAINVILLE FOREST. 6; Of mod unnatural murder. If thou refufe, A guard at hand mall drag thee to our courts. \ILnler a guard behind. Marquis. Sir, as a minifter of juftice, fent With powers I muft refpect, I yield in all things. Bur may I aik what proofs you have of this, Which boldly 1 pronounce a falfehood ? Say, Did not yon boy provoke this fond procedure? Nemours. So far you're right : He did, and on fure grounds. Marquis. You will not think fo, when you hear my t ile ; Know that his father robb'd our very perfon, For which offence, no doubt, this wretched plot Was hatch'd againfl my honour and my life ; But Juftice lhall avenge me on them all. Nemours. Sir, you deceive yourfelf Lo, here a witnefs, Even in your brother's hand, whereby he charges You and your flaves fuborn'd, with his arreft Here in the very Abbey, Marquis. Forgery all. By Heav'n, my brother fell in Hungary, A valiant champion for the Holy Crofs. Nemours. Nay, 'tis no late impofture <-View it well! Its characters obliterated half, And faded what remain, by time and damps. Marquis. Sir, I affirm again 'tis defpcrate for- gery, K 66 frONTAINVILLE FOREST. Give me a living witnefs to confront me. Nemours. Know you one, nam'd Laval ? What, docs it fhake thee ? Enter LAVAL. See the wretch brought before thee. Marquis. Furies feize him ! Lamotte. By Heav'n, the very man who gave me Adeline ! Marquis. Then I am caught indeed ! O that my rage Could crufh, at once, mankind in general ruin. No ! tho* all hell feems arm'd again ft my life, I will not yield me to your torturing ruffians, Nor, like a Have, expire upon a fcaffold. This way alone, does not degrade ambition. [Stabs himfelf and falls. Lamotte. Defperate to the laft. Nemours. A dreadful judgment. [He makes ajign, and exit Laval. Marquis. The hand of death has clear'd my cheated fight Lamotte, draw nearer, and mark my lateft words I have done all I'm charg'd with ; Adeline Is that wrong'd brother's child I know it Moft horrible conviction made it certain- All that I have is hers. Is fo by right, I would not now withhold it ! Could flie forgive me ! But that's impofiible. O mercy, Heaven ! [Dies. FONTA1NVILLE FORFST. 67 Louts. My Adeline ! [Kneels. Madame. My hufband thus reftor'd, My darling ion the means too ! Nemours. Even fo ; Lamotte, a fecret Providence, no doubt, Directed this difclofure Thar Laval, About to fuffer for another crime, Begg'd refpite to difclofe this fcene of horrors. Your fon arrived to give it truth undoubted. Lamotte. Joy beams at length on all but me, fincere, Pure and unclouded ; but my penitence Will, I truft, expiate my former errors, And chear the exile they have forc'd upon me. Nemours. Lamotte, for you a brighter profpect dawns, Nor mall your future days be dimm'd with for- row. The King, to recompenfe the valiant deeds Of your brave fon, recalls you to your home, And with free pardon blots out paft offences. Lamotte. My fon ! my fon ! I have no words to thank thee. [Embraces him. Nemours. For you, dear Lady, juftice has pre- par'd The full pofleffion of your lineal rights. Adeline. 'Tis here I owe their fplendour ; and thus pay The gratitude at once for life and love. [Gives her band to Louis. Kz 6S FONTAIXVILLE FOREST. Madame. My children, may fuperior joys await ye, And lengthen out a date of mutual fondnefs. Adeline* My worthy venerable guide, to you I'm bound for fuch advent'rous fympathy As fcorn'd the claims of age, to fave a flranger. Peter. I fee you innocent and happy, Madam ; The beft reward that I can hope on earth. ddeliite. The great Avenger of perverted nature Before us has difplay'd a folemn leflbn, How he difpels the cloud of myftery, With which the fmful man furrounds his crimes ; It calls us to adore in awful wonder, And reccommend ourfelves by humble virtue. [Exeunt THE END. EPILOGUE TO FONTAINTLLLE FOREST, BY THE AUTHOR OF THE PLAY, FOR MRS. POPE. Vv ELL, heav'n he prais'd, I have efcap'd at lafl, And all my woman's doubts and fears are paft. Before this awful crifis of our play, Our vent'rous bard has often heard me fay Think you, our friends, one modern ghoft will fee, Unlefs, indeed, of Hamlet's pedigree : Know you not, Shakfpeare's petrifying pow'r Commands alone the horror-giving hour ? ** Madam, faid he, with mingled awe and lov; " I think of Him, thebrighteft fpirit above, " Who triumphs over time and fickle forms, ' The changes of caprice, and paffion's florms ; ** Whofe mighty mufe the fubjeft world muft bind^ *' While fenfe and nature charm the willing mind," But Sir, I cry'd, your eulogy apart, Which flows from mine, indeed from every heart* You mean to fanftion then your own pale fprite, By his " that did ufurp this time of night :" " I do, he anfwer'd, and I beg you'll fpar* '* My injur'd phantom ev'ry m/-fea pray'r : ' Why fliould your terror lay my proudcft boaft, " Madam I die, if I give up the ghoft." 70 EPILOGUE. The jeft which burfted from his motley mind, Anxious as it muft be, has made me kind j I come his advocate, if there be need, And give him ahjolutlon for the deed. You'll not den) r my fpiritual power, But let me rule at leaft one little hour ! Be four's the fceptre every future day, And mine the tranfport humbly to obey. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. A 000000819 3 PR 332^ S1TY of CALIFORNIA ANGELES LIBRARY