Fidelio.
FIDELIO.
It is with some Concern, my Lord, that
I have observ'd so great an Alteration
in you of late; your usual Gaiety, and
Fire is vanish'd, and you seem buried in
Thought, and Discontent. I have liv'd
long in your Family—have serv'd your Father faithfully,
and I hope have not given you Reason to complain
since I had the Honour to attend you. Perhaps it may
yet be in my Power to be of Service to you, at least
in my Advice, Pray'rs, and Wishes. May I beg to
know the Cause of your Melancholy?
-- 2 --
VINCENTIO.
I was thinking, Fidelio, on the Injustice of those
Laws, that deprive a Man of the Pleasures, nay, almost
the Necessaries of Life, for no other Fault than being
born a little too late. I must confess, I think we younger
Brothers are but indifferently dealt by: Here's myself
might pass with some for a tolerable well-made
young Fellow, and I think myself as able to spend an
Estate in a gentile Manner as ever an elder Brother in
Germany: And yet, because an unnatural, ill-manner'd
Clown happen'd to tumble into the World the same
Way with myself, only about ten or twelve Months
sooner; I, forsooth, must owe my Subsistence to his
Bounty, and think myself oblig'd to him for an Education
worse than is bestow'd on his meanest Vassal.
Say, Fidelio, have I not Reason for my Melancholy?
FIDELIO.
Ah, Sir! had my old Lord liv'd, we shou'd have no
Room for these Complaints.—You know he always lov'd
you with a more than ordinary Fondness, and had we
had fair Play—I have a strange Notion Things wou'd
not have been as they are. However, Sir, by your
Brother's own Confession, he has a thousand Crowns in
Trust, which your Father bequeath'd you to equip you
for the World like a Gentleman.
VINCENTIO.
Ah, Fidelio, a thousand Crowns will go but a little
Way tow'rds making a Gentleman, as Gentility goes
now-a-days.—'Tis said, indeed, he order'd my Brother
on his Death-bed, to give me an Education suitable to
my Birth. Marry, has he not? While ev'ry noble
Youth is gaining Knowledge in his Closet, or Honour
in the Field; I must be kept at Home to look after his
Lordship's Hounds and Horses; nay, faith, sometimes
-- 3 --
his Hogs. A polite Education, I must confess, and fit
for the Son of the great Ernesto. In short, Fidelio, I begin
to be tir'd of this Usage; the Spirit of my Father
works strongly in me, and mutinies against this Servitude.
—I can endure it no longer, but must find some
Means to free myself from this Slavery.
FIDELIO.
Hush, Sir, here's my Lord, your Brother, coming
into the Garden.
VINCENTIO.
'Tis as I wish'd: Step aside, good Fidelio, and thou
shalt see a Specimen of his brotherly Affection.
SCENE II.
Vincentio, Leonati, (Fidelio apart.)
VINCENTIO.
Good Morning, my Lord Brother.
Leonati.
How now, Sir! What make you here?
VINCENTIO.
Nothing, Sir. I have not been taught to make any
Thing,—I thank your Lordship.
LEONATI.
What mar you then?
VINCENTIO.
Marry, Sir, I am helping you to mar, what God
made, e'en a poor younger Brother of yours, with Idleness.
-- 4 --
LEONATI.
Methinks, Sir, you might be better employ'd.
VINCENTIO.
I know not where, unless you'll give me Husks, and
send me into your Hogsty.—Brother! Brother! how
have I deserv'd this Usage? What prodigal Portion have
I spent, that I should come to such Penury?
LEONATI.
How, Sir! Know you where you are?
VINCENTIO.
Oh, very well: Here, in your Lordship's Garden.
LEONATI.
Know you before whom, Sir?
VINCENTIO.
Ay; better than he I am before knows me.—Nay,
frown not;—come, come, I know you are my elder
Brother, and that the Courtesy of Nations makes you
by that Title my Superior:—But yet it does not take
from me my Share in our great Father's Blood;—I
am thy Brother still, and tho' a Thousand had been
born between us, am as much Ernesto's Son as you:—
Tho', I must confess, your stepping into the World
before me, sets you a little nearer to his Reverence.
LEONATI,
How, now! Do'st thou insult me, Boy?
VINCENTIO.
By Heaven, I scorn it; but I must tell you, elder
Brother, I can no longer bear this shameful Treatment;
use me as becomes you, or you shall find this Arm can
do me Justice.
[Seizing him.
LEONATI,
Wilt thou lay Hands on me, Villain?
-- 5 --
VINCENTIO,
I am no Villain, but the Son of great Ernesto, and
he is thrice a Villain, that says such a Father begot Villains.
—Wer't thou not my Brother, I wou'd not take this
Hand from off thy Throat till the other had pluck'd out
thy accursed Tongue for saying it—Thy Scandal on thy
Head.
[Loosing him.
FIDELIO coming up.
Sweet Sirs, be patient, for your Father's Sake;—
remember where you are.
LEONATI.
Leave me, I say.
VINCENTIO.
I will not till I please, for you shall hear me,
Nay, you shall mind me too, by Heaven you shall;
Our dying Father charg'd you on his Blessing
To tender me a noble Education,
And suited to my Quality and Birth;
How ill have you obey'd him!—no servile Hind,
That labours daily for a poor Subsistence,
But boasts a better Knowledge.—Do me Justice,
Or by my Father's Soul you shall repent it:
Maintain me in a Manner that becomes
Ernesto's Son, or give me the poor Fortune
My Father with his dying Breath bequeath'd me,
And I shall learn to trouble you no more.
LEONATI.
Well, Sir, I shall consider of it; I assure you I shall
think of some Way to set us both at Ease:—I pray
you for the present leave me.
-- 6 --
VINCENTIO.
I shall, Sir; and when you learn to use me like a
Brother, I shall learn with humble Duty to respect you
as becomes me. Farewel, Sir.
SCENE III.
Leonati, Fidelio.
LEONATI.
And you, Sir, with your very ceremonious Face,
be pleas'd to walk after him.
FIDELIO.
Yes, Sir, I shall go after him, or any where to shun
such Inhumanity. Had my old Master liv'd, you durst
not, nor wou'd he, have us'd him thus.
SCENE IV.
LEONATI alone.
Is it come to this? Do you begin to grow upon me,
young Gentleman? I shall find a Way to physick
your Rankness, and not part with the thousand Crowns,
I believe.
-- 7 --
SCENE V.
The Palace.
Julia, Camilla.
JULIA.
Pr'ythee, dear Camilla, be merry.
CAMILLA.
Alas, my Julia, I already shew more Mirth than I
am Mistress of: Unless I could forget my own, and my
poor banish'd Father's Injuries, Pleasure can find no
Charms for me.
JULIA,
Thou wrong'st me much, Camilla; for, believe me,
had thy Father reign'd, and mine been banish'd, so
thou had'st still been with me, I shou'd have taught
myself to forget him; and so woud'st thou if thy Respect
for me bore any Semblance of my Love for you.
CAMILLA.
Well, Cousin, I shall try to forget my own Fortune,
and rejoice in yours. Oh Frederick!
JULIA.
You know my Father hath no other Child, and when
he dies, to me his Crown descends: Believe me, dear
Camilla, you shall wear it, and what Force took from
thy Father, Love shall render thee again;—therefore,
once more, my dear Coz, my sweet Camilla, be
merry.
CAMILLA.
I'm sorry, Cousin, my ill-manner'd Grief shou'd make
me troublesome, and here I throw it off: Henceforward
-- 8 --
all our Employment shall be to devise new Sports, to
make our Time pass on agreeably.
JULIA.
That's kindly said.—Come, pr'ythee, let's about it
instantly.
CAMILLA.
With all my Heart. Come then, what think you
of falling in Love?
JULIA.
Oh! the best Thing in the World, provided you
don't do it in Earnest. Love no Man in Earnest, Child,
nor farther in Jest than you may safely, and without a
Blush come off of; it may be dangerous.
CAMILLA.
I pray do you invent then; what shall be the Sport?
JULIA.
Marry, we'll sit, and mock Dame Fortune from her
Wheel, that from henceforth her Gifts may be distributed
more equally.
CAMILLA.
Wou'd we cou'd!—for in my Opinion, the blind Lady
is mighty apt to mistake in her Favourites.
JULIA.
Indeed I think so too, and begin to be quite tir'd of
her Partiality; but I think she's most apt to mistake in
her Gifts to the Ladies.
CAMILLA.
Why so Julia?
JULIA.
Why to those that are fair she seldom gives Virtue,
and the Virtuous have rarely a large Stock of Beauty.
-- 9 --
CAMILLA.
Nay, now Cousin you are mistaken, and wander
from Fortune's Office to Nature's. Fortune reigns in the
Gifts of the World, and not in the Lineaments of Nature.
And perhaps she may not be so much in Fault
neither, for I am afraid a great many of the homely
are only virtuous, because they have no Opportunity
of being otherwise.
JULIA.
You are keen, Cousin.—But who have we here?—
Oh! 'tis Hillario.
CAMILLA.
With his Mouth full of News.
SCENE VI.
To them Hillario.
HILLARIO.
Oh Ladies!—
JULIA, and CAMILLA.
Oh Hillario!—
(interrupting him.)
HILLARIO.
Nay, how cruel that is now to put a Man out just in
the Beginning of his Story.
CAMILLA.
'Twas a little unkind, I must confess; but what was
it you was so eager to tell us?
-- 10 --
HILLARIO.
Pshaw! you interrupted me, and put it quite out of my
Head.
CAMILLA.
Shall I help you out?—I prophesy it was News.
JULIA.
Some Lady perhaps run away with her Footman,
HILLARIO.
No.
CAMILLA.
Has Philantus left off gaming?
JULIA.
Is Lord Proteus married?
CAMILLA.
Or has Count Horatio paid his Debts?
HILLARIO.
Neither; but to save you the Trouble of guessing any
longer, I come to tell you, you have lost much Sport.
JULIA.
Sport, you say?
HILLARIO.
Ay, Madam.
CAMILLA.
Of what Colour?
HILLARIO.
Colour, Madam!—How shall I answer you?—
CAMILLA.
As Wit and Fortune will.
JULIA.
Or as the Destinies decree.
CAMILLA.
Or e'en just as you please.
-- 11 --
HILLARIO.
(after looking first on one, and then t'other for some Time.
You amaze me, Ladies.—All, that I can say is, that
there was a Tilt held to Day before the Duke, and you
have lost the Sight of it.
JULIA.
Tell us the Manner of it then.
HILLARIO.
I'll tell you the Beginning, and if your Ladyships
please you may see the End, for the best is all to come.
CAMILLA.
Begin then; we are attentive.
HILLARIO.
There comes an old Man with his three Sons.—
JULIA.
An excellent Beginning for a Winter's Tale.
HILLARIO.
Three tall, proper, handsome, gentile, well-made
young Fellows, as you shall see in a Summer's Day.
CAMILLA.
At Court on a Birth-Night, or in the Front Box at
an Opera.
HILLARIO.
The Eldest marches boldly into the Lists to fight with
Dumain the famous French Fencer.—Dumain advances
tow'rds him;—after a slight Pass or two—gives
him a Thrust in Quart,—as thus;—whips him an Inch
into the Sword Arm, and sends him bleeding to the
Surgeons.
CAMILLA.
Poor Gentleman!
-- 12 --
HILLARIO.
The Second he serv'd much after the same Manner;—
only that was in Tierce, I think;—let me see;—Aye,
aye, 'twas thus,—But the third—
JULIA.
Aye Hillario, the Third!—what of him?
HILLARIO.
Why after a Traverse or two, the young Gentleman's
Sword flew from the Hilt; upon which Dumain generously
threw away his and clos'd with him,—and happening
to be a little too strong for him, pitch'd him
fairly over the Tilt-Rail, and broke three of his Ribs;—
Yonder he lies,—and looks so sheepish, methinks;—
and the poor old Man mourns over him so dolefully,—
I protest 'twould do one's Heart good to hear him.
JULIA.
I pity him with all my Heart. But pry'thee, Hillario,
what is the Sport, we have lost?
HILLARIO.
Why—this, that I have been telling you of.
CAMILLA.
Well, see now how one may live and learn; I protest
this is the first Time I ever heard that breaking
Ribs was Sport for Ladies.
JULIA.
Or I either, I promise you. But come Cousin, shall
we go and see the Remainder of Hillario's Sport?
HILLARIO.
It will be worth your while, I assure you;—but you
must make haste, for it is much about the Time of the
Onset.
(A Flourish of Trumpets.)
-- 13 --
JULIA.
Hark, is not that the Summons?
HILLARIO.
It is; come Ladies, for Heaven's Sake—I wou'd not
lose the Sight on't for the World.
CAMILLA.
Lead on then without Ceremony.
(As they go out Camilla drops a Bracelet.)
SCENE VII.
Re-enter HILLARIO.
Pox on't—how unlucky this is? I shall lose all
the Sport.—S'death, cou'd she find no other Time
to lose her Bracelet in, but just when one is busy?—
(Trumpets without.)
Hark!—Aye, they're at it i'faith—
Wou'd the Devil had this Bracelet, I can't find it high,
nor low. (Shout) So: There's Surgeons Work of one
Side or t'other, I suppose.—Was ever such a blind Puppy?
here's the Bawble just under my Nose all the while—
And I am much the better for finding it now:—for all
is over, I imagine—(Shout without Vincentio, &c.)—
Aye, 'tis so, and by that Shout our young Champion
should have got the Day. I'll in and see, however.—
Eh, Pox of the Bracelet.
-- 14 --
SCENE VIII.
(As from the Tilt) Vincentio (People passing over the Stage.)
VINCENTIO.
What should this mean? His Highness seems displeas'd
At my Success: After the Fight he call'd
To ask my Name, and Family; of which
When I inform'd him, strait he frown'd, and said
He wish'd I had told him of another Father:
So do not I; by Heaven I'm proud to be
Ernesto's Son, and wou'd not change that Name
To be the Heir of haughty Ferdinand.
SCENE IX.
Vincentio, Camilla, Lucia, and Hillario.
JULIA.
Were I my Father, wou'd I have done thus?
Hillario talks apart with Vincentio.
CAMILLA.
My Father lov'd Ernesto as his Soul, and he was held
-- 15 --
in high Esteem by all, who knew his Worth. Had I before
the Tilt known that Vincentio was Ernesto's Son, I
shou'd have giv'n him Tears unto Intreaties e'er he
should so have ventur'd.
JULIA.
But come, Camilla,To-day he was our Champion, and
we ought to thank him;—perhaps it may be some poor
Satisfaction to him for the Unkindness of the Duke
my Father.—Hillario.
HILLARIO.
Madam.
JULIA.
Say to the Gentleman, if he's at Leisure, we would
exchange a Word or two with him.
HILLARIO.
The Princesses, Sir, would speak with you.
(To Vincentio)
VINCENTIO.
Your Pleasure, Ladies?
JULIA.
To thank you, Sir: You've well deserv'd to Day,
And, were it in my Power, your Reward
Had been proportion'd better to your Merit.
CAMILLA.
Wear this for me, Sir; (giving him a Bracelet) all a
wretched Maid can give;—my Fortunes have been
better.
Julia and Camilla retire
VINCENTIO (after a Pause.)
Where am I? Lost in Tides of new-blown Joy
I have not Power to bless the Hand that raises me;
My panting Soul fled from me as she spoke,
And nought remains but a poor lifeless Coarse.
CAMILLA (returning.)
Did he not call us back?—My Pride fell with my
-- 16 --
Fortunes, I'll ask him what he wou'd;—Said you,
Sir?
VINCENTIO.
Lady?
CAMILLA.
You have fought well To-day, and overcome more
than your Enemies.
JULIA.
Come, Cousin, will you walk?
CAMILLA.
Aye. Farewel, Sir.
VINCENTIO.
My best of Wishes follow you!—
(Vincentio stands looking after them.)
SCENE X.
Vincentio, Hillario (apart.)
HILLARIO.
Troth he's a good proper Gentleman, when all
is done,—and I'm much mistaken if somebody
else does not think so as well as myself:—There's
something more than ordinary in his being sent for by
the Princesses:—He'll be a rising Man no doubt of it:—
Faith I think I'd best make my court to him. Mercy on
us, what a Posture he's fix'd in!—But mum, he recovers.
VINCENTIO.
What passion hangs these Weights upon my Tongue!—
I cou'd not speak to her, yet she urg'd Conference—
-- 17 --
She's gone;—but oh! her Image is too firmly
Fix'd in my Heart e'er to be torn from thence.
HILLARIO.
Poor, Gentleman! it's all over with him.—Well, I
shall find a Time, and this will be News for the Ladies;
I'll e'en leave him to himself.
SCENE XI.
Vincentio, and Gentleman.
GENTLEMAN.
The Princesses, Sir, in Friendship, will you to
quit the City instantly; for although you have
well deserv'd the Friendship, Praise, and Love of Ferdinand,
yet such is his Condition, that he misconstrues
all, that you have done, and weighs your Virtues in an
envious Ballance.—Your cruel Brother too attempts your
Life by secret Means.—Speed quickly from the City.—
A Moment's Dalliance may be dangerous.
VINCENTIO.
Bear to the Princesses my gentlest Thanks,
And say I am in humble Duty bound
To bless them ever.—Pray you, Sir, inform me
Which of the two is Daughter to the Duke.
GENTLEMAN.
The Shorter:—The other's Daughter to Lord
Frederick, and here detain'd by her usurping Uncle
to keep the Princess Company. She stands fair in
all Men's Love, both for her Father's Virtues, and
-- 18 --
her own. 'Tis thought the Duke has conceiv'd a Hatred
against her, which will not long lie smother'd. Farewel,
Sir; your Affairs forbid a longer Conference.—If
ever we meet hereafter, I shall desire more Love and
Knowledge of you.
VINCENTIO.
I rest much bounden to you, Sir.—Farewel.
SCENE XII.
VINCENTIO (alone.)
I must leave Liege.—Well, be it so then.—What
are the Charms, that should detain me here? No, let
me fly, and in some friendly Desart, hide me from the
ungenerous World. There I shall be free from the Rage
of an impious Usurper, and the Malice of an unnatural
Brother.—And is that all?—If so, why do I loiter,
and fear to move as though I rush'd on death?—Sure
something whispers me I've still an Interest here;—
Camilla's Charms!—But what of her?—Down my
aspiring Soul, and meditate a Theme more suited to my
lost, my wretched Fortune.—And yet, methinks I'm
not forbid to hope; he is a Wretch indeed that boasts not
that. There should be something in sending to inform
me of the Duke's Displeasure, and my Brother's Treachery.
—But all is hid within the mystic Book of Fate;
to that I'll trust my Fortune.—The same good Angel
that inspir'd her then may savour me still farther.
Smile Heav'n, and ev'ry Star propitious prove,
And what I've lost in Honour, let me gain in Love.
-- 19 --
SCENE XIII.
Julia, Camilla.
JULIA.
Why Cousin! Why Camilla! Cupid have Mercy,
not a Word?
CAMILLA.
What wou'd you have me say?
JULIA.
Any thing.—No matter what.
CAMILLA.
Heigh ho!
(Sighing.)
JULIA.
Prettily sigh'd, I protest.—Pr'ythee Camilla, let's
have it over again.
CAMILLA.
Dear Julia, don't be so unmerciful.
JULIA.
Poor Cousin,—was it vex'd?—But it is all for thy
Father.
CAMILLA.
No, indeed, some of it is for my Father's Child.
Oh Vincentio!
JULIA.
Why you cannot be in earnest, surely?—Is it possible
you can have taken such a Liking to Vincentio on so
short a Knowledge?
CAMILLA.
My father lov'd his Father dearly.
-- 20 --
JULIA.
And for that Reason you must love his Father's Son.—
A very pretty Consequence.—By that Rule I shou'd
hate him, for I'm sure my Father hated his Father
dearly. Yet I cannot say I hate Vincentio.
CAMILLA.
No—do not hate him for my Sake.
JULIA.
Truly 'tis a pretty deserving Youth.
CAMILLA.
Well, I'll love him for that; and do you love him
because I do.
SCENE XIV.
Julia, Camilla, Hillario.
HILLARIO.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
(Laughs.)
CAMILLA.
How now, Hillario?
HILLARIO.
Ha! Ha! Ha! Oh my Sides, my Sides!
JULIA.
Why what's the Matter, Man?
HILLARIO.
Why? Ha! Ha! Ha!—Why—yonder's poor Lord
Maximin a sweating, and swearing, and chafing, as if
he had not an Hour to live.
CAMILLA.
Aye! how so?
-- 21 --
HILLARIO.
Why, you must know—but I should first have told
you, that the Duke for some secret Services had promis'd
him the first Post that fell near his Person. Now,
you know, the Lord Treasurer died about a Week ago—
upon which Maximin taking it for granted that he was
the Man, whips me up in his new Coach, lac'd Liveries,
doubles his Retinue, and hires a House to receive
the Compliments of his Friends, as though he were already
invested.
JULIA.
Well, what then?
CAMILLA.
His Highness (for some private Reasons, I suppose)
taking it in his Head that he had promis'd to serve a
certain Lady's Husband, sends for the Gentleman, invests
him privately, and had just finish'd the Ceremony
when Maximin begg'd Leave to kiss his Hand.—But to
see how the poor Devil look'd when he saw Mr. What-d'ye-call-um
there in the Chair—
JULIA.
Ha! ha! ha! Poor Maximin! I warrant the Gentleman
will take Pet, grow weary of the Court, fall in
Love with Retirement, and spend his Life in the Country.—
CAMILLA.
Till another Place offers. Ha! ha! ha!
HILLARIO.
Marry, I wish he does not go into a Convent—for he
turn'd to a certain fat intriguing Abbot, and whisper'd
him aloud, that he had so good an Opinion of his Conversation,
and Way of Living, that he had Thoughts of
putting himself under his Direction.
-- 22 --
CAMILLA.
A proper Place for Improvement!—I wou'd as soon
send my Son into England to learn French, or Holland to
acquire Politeness.
JULIA.
He's safe however in one particular; for if he gains
no Virtue there, he's sure of losing none.
CAMILLA.
Except it be that of sinning fairly, and appearing in
his own proper Character.
HILLARIO.
I believe the only Objection he has, is, that he does
not know readily what Religion to say he's of, should he
chance to be ask'd the Question.
JULIA.
A very grand Difficulty, indeed;—best go over to
England then, where it does not signify what he's of, or
whether of any, or no.
HILLARIO.
Why, truly, they are a good honest, heathenish Sort
of a People there, as I've heard—but for that Matter, I
believe we are not much behind-hand with them in that
Affair, any more than the rest of our Neighbours: But—
Ha! ha! ha! Look Lady Julia (Camilla appears Melancholy)
did ever Mortal see such a Romance in Folio?—
Why, Lady Camilla,—what's the Matter?—Why
you're as dull as an Atheist in a high Fever, or a Girl
of eighteen without a Lover.
CAMILLA.
I cannot always command my Temper, Hillario?—
I have Reason for my Melancholy.
HILLARIO.
Poor Lady!—I'll be hang'd if she be'nt in Love
now, if the Truth were known.—
-- 23 --
JULIA.
You have guest it, Hillario.
CAMILLA.
Believe her not, she's only merry with you.
JULIA.
Upon my Honour 'tis true.
HILLARIO.
And upon mine, I believe it:—Behold the Symptoms
—D'ye think to deceive me in such a Case as this?
Marry, then I've had all my Experience for nothing.—
Why I have been in Love myself, d'ye see, some forty
or fifty Times now.—
JULIA.
Oh the fickle Monster—not desperately, I presume.
HILLARIO.
Horribly, most intolerably—but once in particular—
Ah! that once! I protest I tremble with the very
Thoughts of it.—I was so far gone, that rhyming and
fighting were as natural to me as Lying to a Chambermaid,
or Intriguing to a pamper'd Friar:—Such Eyes!
such Lips! and such a Shape—O ye Gods!—
CAMILLA.
Poor Hillario! Why he's in Love yet.—
HILLARIO.
No, no, no, no: Hold there—I am some two or
three Stone better than a Man as much in Love as I
was.
(Clapping his Sides.)
JULIA.
Pr'ythee how got you cur'd then?
HILLARIO.
Why one Day being in a little better Spirits than ordinary,
I happen'd to say something that pleas'd my
Mistress—so what does me, I note but takes her in the critical
-- 24 --
Minute, whips her into the next Chapel, and marries
her, and the Devil take me if I ever lik'd her afterwards.
JULIA.
Ha! ha! ha!—A most excellent Remedy!—
HILLARIO.
A modern Receipt,—a modern Receipt.—But hold,
ho! Who have we here?
SCENE XV.
(To them) A Servant.
SERVANT.
Ladies, his Highness desires your Company in
his Chamber.
JULIA.
We'll attend him;—Come, Cousin,—and pray you
be chearful.
CAMILLA.
As chearful as I can, good Julia.
JULIA.
Come on then;—Farewel Lover.
HILLARIO.
Ladies your most obedient.
-- 25 --
SCENE XVI.
HILLARIO (alone.)
Aye, 'tis so; she has her Share on't, that's certain.
—Well, go thy Ways, Hillario; thou hast
a good Guess with thee, I'll say that for thee.—This
must be Work for me, I see.—I must after Vincentio,
and see him, if possible, before he leaves the City.—
He hardly knows me yet,—but he may be a good
Friend in Time, and let me alone to manage him.—
Besides, if he should be gone, and I know not where to
find him, we shall have the Devil to pay here;—such
sighing, and whimpering, and—Ha! what's here?
The Princesses return'd! They seem in Tears too, if I
mistake not.—What Mischief's a-foot now?
SCENE XVII.
(To him) Julia, Camilla.
CAMILLA.
Banish'd without the Knowledge of my Fault!
Injurious Uncle! how have I deserv'd it?
HILLARIO.
How said you, Lady? banish'd!
-- 26 --
CAMILLA.
Yes, Hillario.
Liege is too small for his ambitious Soul,
Much less to hold a Rival in his Greatness;
His Highness says, I am grown dangerous,
And bad me with my speediest Haste dispatch,
And leave the City; if To-morrow's Dawn
I'm found within the Limits of his Dukedom,
My forfeit Life must answer for the Fault.
HILLARIO.
Poor Lady!
CAMILLA.
When I begg'd to know the Reason,
He turn'd, and with a haughty Frown, reply'd,
I was my Father's Daughter.
HILLARIO.
Why so you was when Ferdinand depos'd him,
And Treason's not inherited.
CAMILLA.
If it were,
What's that to me? My Father was no Traitor,
HILLARIO.
No, in Faith was he not.—Why Lady Julia!
What not a Word?—Has Sorrow stol'n your Speech?
CAMILLA.
Look up, my Julia, it is worse than Death
To see thee thus; thou hast no Cause for Grief.
JULIA.
Alas! too much Camilla; know'st thou not,
When Ferdinand pronounc'd thy fatal Doom,
He made me then a Stranger to his House,
His Honour, and his Blood: I'm banish'd too,
For we will never part; I'll follow thee,
-- 27 --
And share in all thy Dangers.—All the Day
We'll toil together o'er the barren Waste;
And when the silent Shades of Night come on,
Together on the friendly Turf we'll taste
A sweet Repose:—What tho' alone and chearless,
Heaven will not fail to guard the Innocent.
HILLARIO.
Nay, think it not;—you shall not know a Toil,
But I will have my Share on't;—I'm not yet
So much a Courtier as to slight my Friends,
When the swift Turn of giddy Fortune's Wheel
Has thrown them from her Smiles.—I'll follow too.
JULIA.
That's kindly said; come Coz, we'll never leave thee.
CAMILLA.
No, Julia, I'll not do thee so much wrong;
You have a Father:—Live, live, and be happy;
Forget, if possible, a wretched Maid,
Whose Friendship wou'd undo thee.
JULIA.
Oh Camilla!
You wrong me more to think I e'er can leave thee;
No, let my Father seek another Heir,
For we will never part. Come my sweet Girl
Dispatch, dispatch, and let us fly from Liege.
CAMILLA.
Ah! whither can we fly?
HILLARIO.
Madam, I've heard,
That good Lord Frederick, your Royal Father,
With those few faithful Gentlemen, that follow'd
His broken Fortunes, are in Arden's Forest;
'Twere best we sought him there.
-- 28 --
CAMILLA.
Come on then, but as 't may be dangerous,
Maids as we are, to venture such a Journey,
I think 'twere best I shou'd array myself
In all Points like a Man;—the Shepherd's Hook,
And plain Attire will suit our ruin'd State.
You, Julia, in homely Russet clad,
Shall by a nearer Tie be bound to me,
And call'd my Sister.
HILLARIO.
At the Eastern Gate
I have a Tenant, who shall furnish us
With fit Disguises, Horses, and what else
Our Need requires.
JULIA.
Thither let us haste,
And with all Speed prepare us for our Journey.
Lead on, Hillario;—Ferdinand good Night,
I'm sorry thou should'st wrong, where I must right.
End of the First Act.
-- 29 --
John Carrington [1739], The modern receipt: or, A Cure for Love. A comedy. Altered from Shakespeare. With Original Poems, Letters &c. (Printed for the Author, London) [word count] [S35300].
