The comical revenge, or, Love in a tub acted at His Highness the Duke of York's Theatre in Lincolns-Inn-Fields.

SCEN. IV.

Scene, The Lord Bevill's House.

Enter Graciana, and Aurelia immediately after her, with a Letter in her hand.

Grac.

The Sun's grown lazie; 'tis a tedious space Since he set forth, and yet's not half his race. I wonder Beaufort does not yet appear; Love never loyters, Love sure brings him here.

Aur.

Brought on the wings of Love, here I present

Presenting the Letter.

His Soul, whose Body Prisons yet prevent; The noble Bruce, whose Virtues are his Crimes:

Grac. rejects the Letter.

Are you as false and cruel as the times! Will you not read the story of his grief? But wilfully refuse to give relief?

Grac.

Sister, from you this language makes me start:

Can you suspect such vices in my heart? His Virtues I, as well as you, admire; I never scorn'd, but pity much his fire.

Aur.

If you did pity, you would not reject This Messenger of Love: This is neglect.

Grac. rejects the Letter again.

Grac.

Tis cruelty to gaze on Wounds I'm sure, When we want Balsome to effect their Cure.

Aurel.

'Tis only want of will in you, you have Beauty to kill, and Virtue too to save.

Grac.

We of our selves can neither love nor hate; Heav'n does reserve the pow'r to guid our Fate.

Aurel.

Graciana,—

Enter Lord Bevill, Lovis, and the Widow.

Grac.

Sister, forbear; my Father's here.

L. Bev.

So Girl; what, no news of your Lover yet? Our Dinner's ready, and I am afraid He will go nigh to incur the Cooks anger.

Wid.

I believe h'as undertook a hard task; Sir Frederick, they say, is no easie man To be perswaded to come among us women.

Lovis.

Sir.

Lovis and L. Bevill whisper.

L. Bev.

What now?

Wid.

I am as impatient as thou art, Girl; I long to see Sir Frederick here.

To Graciana.

L. Bev.

Forbear, I charge you on my blessing; Not one word more of Colonel Bruce.

Lovis.

You gave encouragement Sir to his Love; The honour of our House now lies at stake.

L. Bev.

You find by your Sisters Inclinations Heaven has decreed her otherwise.

Lovis.

But Sir,—

L. Bev.

Forbear to speak, or else forbear the Room.

Lovis.

This I can obey, but not the other.

Exit Lovis.

Enter Foot-boy.

Foot-b.

Sir, my Lord Beaufort's come.

L. Bev.

'Tis well.

Wid.

D'hear, are there not two Gentlemen?

Foot-b,

Yes Madam, there is another proper handsom Gentleman.

Exit Foot-boy.

L. Bev.

Come, let us walk in, and give them entertainment.

Wid.

Now Cousin for S^r Frederick, this man of men, There's nothing like him.

Exeunt all but Aurelia.

Aur.

With curious diligence I still have strove

Holding the Letter in her hand.

During your absence, Bruce, to breath your Love Into my Sisters bosom; But the fire Wants force; Fate does against my breath conspire: I have obey'd, though I cannot fulfil, Against my self, the dictates of your Will: My Love to yours do's yield; Since you enjoyn'd, I hourly court my Rival to be kind; With passion too, as great as you can do, Taught by those wounds I have receiv'd from you. Small is the difference that's between our grief; Yours finds no cure, and mine seeks no relief: You unsuccessfully your Love reveal; And I for ever must my Love conceal: Within my bosom I'le your Letter wear,

Putting the Letter in her bosom.

It is a Tombe that's proper for despair.

Exit.