The rival sisters, or, The violence of love a tragedy : as it is acted at the Theatre-Royal by His Majesty's servants / written by Mr. Gould.

ACT II.

Scene a GROVE.

Enter Sebastian, Vilander, Gentlemen, Attendants, as from Hunting. To them Gerardo.

Gerar.

VVHAT sport, my Lord?

Sebast.

The best w'ave had this Season.

Gent.

'Twas a hard chase: I never knew a Deer That stood, or dy'd so nobly.

Vilan.

O who wou'd leave such manly sports as these To wast his youth and strength in fond Embraces? To whine, and fawn, and Dy to gain a Smile Of some fantastick Creature, made to serve him?

Gent.

Still on this Subject?

Sebast.

'Tis habitual to him. The Mistress he ador'd prov'd false, and now He rails at all because one broke her Vow.

Vilan.

Do I rail when I tell you Love's a Toy Which they that seek for most the least enjoy? Or that 'tis, when most faithfully defin'd, The flux o'th' Purse, the Gangreen of the Mind? When e'er we fondly think that we may call It ours, 'tis surely ours the least of all. Love Hounds and Horses, and if you'd enjoy Yet more, let Books your private hours employ: Objects like these the nicest Eye will please: But love not Woman—if you love your Ease.

Sebast.

Since from this▪ Theme, I see, thou wilt not move, Pray tell, what are the ill effects of Love?

Vilan.

First, he that loves waits on a Woman's will: Which, tho' 'tis shifting, tho' 'tis changing still, Is yet not half so changeable, as ill. The solid Pleasures which the Wise esteem He leaves to follow a fantastick Dream,

The Ignis Fatuus of his wild Desires, Which makes a glare, misleads him and Expires. His Interest, Honour, nay his future good Is not regarded, or not understood, When Love has cramp'd his Brain and fir'd his blood. If he has Rivals (for 'tis never known But the fair snare does catch more Fops than one) He fights, he kills, and, when from Justice fled, The Living Fool's more Wretched than the dead. Yet after all these Miseries are ran thro' Can he be certain she'll continue true? And if her Coyness was with torture born, How will he relish falshood, back't with Scorn?

Sebast.

In what y'ave said, Vilander, The badness of your Choice is understood, And argues not but we may love the Good. Women! whose kindness all our Care controuls, And breaths Divinity into our Souls! Their charms declare they were by Heav'n design'd To glad the Heart and raise the drooping Mind And give us Joys we no where else can find.

Vilan.

Young man, let this bold Truth employ your thoughts, The very best of Women has her Fau'ts; If thro' those Fau'ts my life uneasy be, What signify her Virtues then to me?

Gerar.

I am of Opinion, Gentlemen, y'are both wide—to love 'em too well makes 'em proud, and too little Peevish: a man must walk between you, if he intends to come between any thing else.

A mistress believes him disabl'd that rails, And a Coxcomb that whines and w'ont tell what he ails; 'Tis the Frollick, the free, and the bold that prevails: For Woman's a Sphinx that puts forth a Riddle, Which nothing resolves like a Treat and a Fiddle.—and so set ye Merry.

[Exit Gerar.

Vilan.

True Leacher still.— When once we tread the Harlot's beaten way, Not stone, nor Gout have Pow'r to make us stay, In Spite of Age we still love fornication, And upon Crutches travail to Damnation. But see! what have we here?

Enter Gerardo with Alonzo, Boy.

Gerar.

One that says Love has sent him with a Hue and Cry after his Mi∣stress. As y'are at present enclin'd I thought him very fit Company for you.—I never see half a dozen Lovers together but I think it a great chance if six of 'em are not Madmen.

[Exit.

Alon.

Here, here, here.——This to the East, this

[Gives 'em Papers.

to the West, this to the North, and this to the South—let 'em be sent from Tything to Tything with all Possible haste. She's describ'd to the life—Of a Moderate height, aged about Sixteen, soft as an Angel, trea∣cherous as a Devil!—away with 'em.—I'll Stay here till you bring news of her. In the mean time, Boy, Sing the Song Amintor made, who us'd to say his Mistresses Vows were like Ropes of sand, onely more apt to break in the Twisting.

Boy Sings.

CAelia has a thousand Charms, 'Tis Heav'n to ly within her Arms! While I stand gazing on her Face, Some new and some resistless Grace Fills with fresh Magick all the Place! Love his Darts around her throwing, Her Breath Arabian Perfume blowing, And Venus was not half so knowing. But while the Nymph we thus adore, We shou'd our Wretched Fate deplore; For O Mirtillo! have a Care, Her sweetness is above compare, But then she is more false than fair: Her chief delight is in undoing, And we run down so steep to Ruin, There is no stopping when w'are going.

Gent.

Vilander, your disease.

Vilan.

Mine's not so bad Like you to marry, or like him be mad.

Alon.

I'm cold! I starve with cold! My heart is turn'd to Ice with her Disdain! Oh! it oppresses—but I'll tear it out. Alas! here are too many Stains of sin, But look it thro' and thro' (for 'tis transparent) You'll find no Stains of Love. Did you e'er see a Woman's Heart?

Sebast.

No.

Alon.

I have a Receit how the first was made, saw the Ingredients mixt that make up the Curs'd Composition. Honey, Balm and Cassia; Hemlock, Worm∣wood and Opium, and ten thousand other such Inconsistent Drugs are con∣fus'dly shuffl'd together: So that your Sweets are dash'd with Gall, your Smiles with Frowns, and your Hopes with Despair. Like the Camelion it varies all Colours, like Proteus all shapes, Like Madness all Humors, and like Interest all Religions.

Vilan.

His dress is onely mad and not his Language.

Alon.

Yet this light, giddy, vain, fantastick thing, I thought my own—believ'd, and was undone. And now Despair—see how he glares upon me! With a long flaming Whip of twisted steel, Does lash me naked round about the World, That cou'd debase Humanity so low As to believe a Woman.—O give o'er! Not yet? nay then I shall submit no more, Be gone, fly from me swift as Nothern wind.— Ha! now 'tis worse—I have thee in my Mind.

Sebast.

To pity him tho' 'tis indeed in Vain, To do it not were barbarous.

Alon.

Ha! ha! ha! See there how that vain, witless, abject thing, That Animal that calls himself a Man, Cringes and bows and Deifies a Woman: Now he implores her leave to kiss her Hand, But see! she thinks it is too great a favour, Nay says 'twas Impudence to make the Motion, And flies like light'ning from him: Yet for all this th' Industrious Fop pursues her, But he may spare the pains! for, see, for fear He shou'd not follow she her self does turn, Smiles, Blushes, Sighs, and vows sh'as lov'd him long, And ev'n at first her Passion wou'd have own'd, Did she not fear he wou'd have thought her fond.— But now—ha! ha!—O frail and faithless Beauty!

Sebast.

Well, what now?

Alon.

Nay look your self and see it. This Woman that but now did swear she lov'd him, E're the Breath's cold with which she form'd her Vows Has to another sworn the same and left him— But let her go, for who can trace a Bubble? And cast your Eye on the forsaken Wretch Who, mad with Grief, blasphemes his Fate, and curses Those faithless looks that charm'd him to Destruction: Till weary'd with his Sorrows and his wrongs, He falls asleep and wishes 'twere his last.— I, too, am heavy—see! the Leaden God, Appears and charms me with his Drowsy Rod.

[Lies down, as to sleep.

Vilan.

"At once by Woman all Mankind was slain, "And one by one they kill us o'er again!

Enter Antonio, Diego.

Sebast.

O, Wellcome Friend, we miss't you in the Field But why so heavy?

Anto.

Can you not Remember. Since you last saw my Sister?

Sebast.

Very well: Why at this time that Question?

Anto.

'Tis so long since I fancy you'd not know her.

Sebast.

O yes, she left her Image in my Heart, And there it still continues to inform me.

Enter Alphanta, Clara.

Anto.

Then this is she, and she is yours for ever.

Sebast.

What shall I say? the Gift's so great! and thanks Is a Return so poor—I'll find a nobler way. But fair one, say (for without your Consent My Joys will have no Rellish) can y' approve Antonio's Choice, and give me Love for Love?

Alphan.

It was my Brother's absolute command, I hope I shall obey him.

Sebast.

O charming Voice! here let me breath my Raptures!

[Embraces her. [Alonzo rises hastily and looks upwards.

Alon.

stay! I charge you stay and tell her so your self, I have renounc't the curst Inconstant Sex, O that I'd done it sooner! I had not then ran wandering up and down, Reduc'd to the most abject state of Fortune, The Pity of Women and the Scorn of Fools. Did any of y' see it?

Sebast.

What shou'd we see?

Alon.

A soft sweet smiling Angel 'twas, From Heav'n I saw him cut the yielding Sky, To me he did directly shape his flight, And hov'ring o'er me with extended Wings, Greeted me thus. Mortal, awake, and the next Nymph you see, Tell her this Truth, this Sacred Truth from me: Tho' she a while Successfully betray, She'll once Severely for that Error pay; For if there is no Hell for Perjury Heav'n is unjust, and that it cannot be.

Clara.

Can you hear this and—

Alphan.

Hold, and learn your Duty.

[Aside.]

Clara.

My Duty's—

Alphan.

To be silent when I bid you.

Alon.

to Alph.

But you are cast in a sublimer mould, So chaste and pure, y'are of a piece with Heav'n— Therefore my Message can't be meant to you, So much Divinity must needs be true.

Anto.

What can this mean? he does not know her sure.

[Aside.

Alon.

But an Inconstant Woman—ha! ha! ha!—here, take this Eel in this Hand, and this Woman in this hand—hold hard, gripe close, closer yet—so—now open—ha! ha! ha!—the Eel re∣mains, the slipp'ry Woman's gone.

Vilan.

Excellent! They are not in their Senses that say thou'rt out of thine.

Sebast.

Y'are thoughtful, Love.

Alphan.

Those thoughts are then of you.

Sebast.

How will enjoyment all my Pow'rs confound, If thus she charm my Senses with her sound!

Alon.

O dark! dark! dark! a thick Egyptian Fog Has cover'd me all o'er—But who can see That's clouded with Despair? Despair's a Whirlpool!—now I'm swallow'd up! I'm gone! I'm sunk ten thousand Fathoms down! The Globe's unhing'd, the sun has lost his light, Th' Eternal Chain is broke, Chaos is come, For Truth and Faith and Virtue are no more!

[Exeunt. Alon. Boy.

Sebast.

Take care of him, till we can know from whence, And what he is.

Vilan.

That charge, my Lord, be mine.

[Exit Vilan.

Sebast.

Antonio!

Anto.

Ha!

Sebast.

Still Melancholy? not a word to spare us? Sit down, come, we'l endeavour to divert you.

[They all Sit.

[An Antick by Forresters, with other Dancing. After which this Dialogue by a Shepherd and Shepherdess.

Shepherdess.

To me y'ave made a thousand Vows, A thousand tender things have said; I gave you all that Love allows, The naked Pleasure of the Bed. Yet now my Eyes have lost their Charms, Or you abate in your desire; You dream y'ave Caelia in your Arms, And burn with an unhallow'd Fire. Aloud you Name her in your sleep; And if towards me y'are pleas'd to stir (A Kindness that but makes me weep) 'Tis onely when you think of Her.

Shepherd.

That charming Caelia I admire, I must, with Pleasure, own it true; But had I ten times more desire, How cou'd my Passion injure you? Love is the Sacred Tree of Life, And up to Heav'n it's Branches rears;

Yet Admiration's but the Leaf, Enjoyment is the Fruit it bears, Then while you raise this vain dispute, Your Fondness but it self deceives: When you your▪ self have all the Fruit, What need you Envy her the Leaves?

Sebast.

O do not doubt me, but I know thou dost not. All that a Son can say to move a Father You may be sure I'll urge; nor need you fear

[Exeunt. Sebast. Gent.

But I shall prove successful.

Anto.

The Eloquence of Angels guide thy Tongue To plead this holy cause. Like me no Lover e're was us'd before, I feeding, starve, and Riches make me poor.

Enter Berinthia, Julia.

Ha! why those Precious Tears?

Berin.

W'are lost!—w'are lost! my Father is enrag'd, My sister raves and has Resolv'd my Ruin. Nay with her Ponyard drawn, her Eyes up heav'd To Heav'n, that it might Witness what she said, With many a fearful Oath she vow'd my Death, Unless I did remit my Title to you. He's mine (cry'd she) for I first made my claim! I'll serve, adore, and Love him while I've breath, And grapple with thee for him in the Pangs of Death!

Anto.

I ever thought her Violent and Rash.

Alphan.

Strange! that a Man so wise as Vilarezo Shou'd not perceive her frailty: But I forget, there's Bigotry in filial Love As well as in Religion. Time, perhaps, May make him see his Errour.

Berin.

O no, she casts a mist before his Eyes, And with a tear, will melt him as she pleases. He allways lov'd her best. She's sixt, she's grav'd, she's rooted in his heart, Nor will one Grain of Int'rest in't resign; And 'tis as certain that she'll ruin mine!

Anto.

Rather forget this Wretch that is the cause, Reject, despise, and drive me from your Heart; Though to my own Confusion I desire it. Heav'n has, perhaps, design'd thee to another, One that is Rich, great, Young, Lovely and Loving: Leave me then, Madam, leave me to my Fortune.

Berin.

Can you forget me then?

Anto.

O never! never!

Berin.

Why then d'ye bid me leave you?

Anto.

'Tis for thy good, thy Peace, thy future safety, Which otherways, I fear, are lost for ever. Alas! my Passion no decrease shou'd sind; I may be wretched, but I must be Kind.

Berin.

Then what a Wretch were I if I shou'd leave you? No, my dear Lord, in Truth I will not yield, Even to you: what ere my chance does prove I must love on. Th' Eternal Pow'rs above (If Mortals may presume to guess at Fate) Doom'd me to love e're yet I saw the Light. The onely business of my life is Love, My Words, my Thoughts, my very Dreams are Love! I am all Love! I am a World of Love, And give that World to thee!

Anto.

Talk on! talk on! the Musick of thy Tongue So charms my Soul that I cou'd hear thee ever! And think Eternity thus better Spent Then Poets e're cou'd feign, or Priests invent.

Enter Sebastian.

But see, thy Brother—ha! by Heav'n I read Our Ruin on his Face! his looks betray, And tell beforehand, what he has to say.

Sebast.

Pardon me, dearest Friend, for promising More than I cou'd perform: But sighs and tears Soften my Father's flinty breast no more Than Waves a Rock, that stands for ever firm Against Wind, Storms and Tydes, and so does he. I prest his Filial Piety, his care Of this unhappy Creature's future wellfare, Which wholy did depend upon his Grant. I urg'd my Passion for the fair Alphanta With all the tenderness Love could Inspire. I nam'd our Friendship—which must still remain. I did what Man cou'd do, but all in Vain.

Anto.

Look down, ye Pow'rs and wonder why you made The Heart of Man so cruel!

Sebast.

At last, on my Obedience, he enjoyn'd That I shou'd say no more,—but yet said he, To show you that I prize Antonio's Worth, Tell him once more from me, my Elder Daughter I freely give into his Arms for ever, If he but quit his Passion for her Sister.

Anto.

First quit my hope of bliss: when she is gone The onely end for which I liv'd is cancell'd. Eternity wou'd be a blank without her, An o'ergrown Cypher, a round endless nothing.

Sebast.

Which if he does deny (thus he went on) Tell him that I beseech him to return, To his own home, while I make whole the Breach Which else will be more widn'd by his stay.

Anto.

O my Berinthia! O my mourning Love! Our parting pang draws nigh.

Berin.

I heard our doom, and it, has reach'd my Soul! O hold me! O support me, or I faint! Here let me sink! here let me dy away, And make your Arms my Tomb!—you must not go!

[Weeping.

Enter Vilarezo. Attendants.

Vilar.

Enough! my Eyes have seen what till this hour I never cou'd believe: what Plague is there Above a stubborn Child?—for you, my Lord, To whom I made my Resolution known; In wronging him that priz'd you as a Son, Y'ave forfeited the Title of a Friend. But since my Elder Daughter you despise, Thus I snatch this for ever from your Eyes.

Berin.

O Father! Brother! O Antonio! Farewell! Farewell!

[Exeunt Vilar. Berin. Jul. Atten.

Anto.

Angels protect and guard thee! O Friend! thou cordial to my fainting Soul! Did not thy presence in some sort support me, I think, by Heav'n I think I cou'd not bear it. She's gone! for ever gone!—and yet I live, I tamely live to say it.

[Drawing.

Alphan.

Hold! O hold!—

Sebast.

It is indeed too cruel.—but afflict Not thus your self; I'll try him yet again, Intreat, Implore, and hang upon his Knees, Nor be deny'd tho' he shou'd spurn me from him: He must have Nature in him, and I'll wake It, fast as 'tis, or sleep my self in Death

Anto.

In vain you'll strive to move him, he is fixt. How much are Mortals made the Sport of Fate? W'are both in Love, yet the strange difference see, Observe but how our Fortunes disagree, It is thy Paradise—and Hell to me!

[Exeunt.