Ros. Sciolto's servants, too, have ta'en th' alarm; You'll be oppress'd by numbers. Be advis'd, Or I must force you hence. Tak't on my word, You shall have justice done you on Horatio. Put up, my lord.

Loth. This wo'not brook delay;

West of the town a mile, among the rocks,

Two hours ere noon, to-morrow, I expect thee,
Thy single hand to mine.

Hor. I'll meet thee there.

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Loth. To-morrow, Oh, my better stars! to-morrow Exert your influence; shine strongly for me; 'Tis not a common conquest I would gain,

Since love as well as arms, must grace my triumph.
[Exeunt LOTHARIO and ROSSANO.
Hor. Two hours ere noon to-morrow! ha! ere that
He sees Calista! Oh, unthinking fool-

What if I urg'd her with the crime and danger?
If any spark from Heav'n remain unquench'd
Within her breast, my breath perhaps may wake it.
Could I but prosper there, I would not doubt
My combat with that loud vain-glorious boaster.
Were you, ye fair, but cautious whom ye trust,
Did you but think how seldom fools are just,
So many of your sex would not in vain

Of broken vows, and faithless men, complain: 360
Of all the various wretches love has made,

How few have been by men of sense betray'd?
Convinc'd by reason, they your pow'r confess,
E

Pleas'd to be happy, as you're pleas'd to bless,
And conscious of your worth can never love you less.

[Exit.

Act III. SCENE I.

An Apartment in SCIOLTO's Palace. Enter SCIOLTO and CALISTA.

Sciolto.

Now, by my life, my honour, 'tis too much!
Have I not mark'd thee, wayward as thou art,
Perverse and sullen all this day of joy?

When ev'ry heart was cheer'd and mirth went round,
Sorrow, displeasure, and repining anguish,
Sat on thy brow; "like some malignant planet,
Foe to the harvest and the healthy year,
"Who scowls adverse, and lours upon the world;
"When all the other stars, with gentle aspect,
"Propitious shine, and meaning good to man.”

Cal. Is then the task of duty half perform'd ?
Has not your daughter giv'n herself to Altamont,
Yielded the native freedom of her will
To an imperious husband's lordly rule,
To gratify a father's stern command ?
Sci. Dost thou complain?

Cal. For pity do not frown then,

If in despite of all my vow'd obedience,
A sigh breaks out, or a tear falls by chance:

For, Oh! that sorrow which has drawn your anger, Is the sad native of Calista's breast:

"And once possess'd, will never quit its dwelling, "Till life, the prop of all, shall leave the building, "To tumble down, and moulder into ruin."

Sci. Now by the sacred dust of that dear saint
That was thy mother; "by her wond'rous goodness,
"Her soft, her tender, most complying sweetness,"
I swear, some sullen thought that shuns the light,
Lurks underneath that sadness in thy visage.
But mark me well, tho' by yon Heav'n I love thee
As much, I think, as a fond parent can;

Yet should'st thou, (which the pow'rs above forbid)
E'er stain the honour of thy name with infamy,
I'll cast thee off, as one whose impious hands
Had rent asunder nature's nearest ties,
Which, once divided, never join again.
To-day I've made a noble youth thy husband!
Consider well his worth; reward his love;
Be willing to be happy, and thou art so.

[Exit SCIOLTO.

Cal. How hard is the condition of our sex,
Thro' ev'ry state of life the slaves of man!
In all the dear delightful days of youth
A rigid father dictates to our wills,

And deals out pleasure with a scanty hand.
To his, the tyrant husband's reign succeeds;
Proud with opinion of superior reason,
He holds domestic bus'ness and devotion

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All we are capable to know, and shuts us,

Like cloister'd ideots, from the world's acquaintance, And all the joys of freedom. Wherefore are we Born with high souls, but to assert ourselves,

Shake off this vile obedience they exact,

And claim an equal empire o'er the world?

Enter HORATIO.

Hor. She's here! yet, Oh! my tongue is at a loss.
Teach me, some pow'r, that happy art of speech,
To dress my purpose up in gracious words;
Such as may softly steal upon her soul,

And never waken the tempestuous passions.
By Heav'n she weeps!

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Forgive me, fair Calista, If I presume on privilege of friendship, To join my grief to yours, and mourn the evils That hurt your peace, and quench those eyes in tears. Cal. To steal, unlook'd for, on my private sorrow, Speaks not the man of honour, nor the friend, But rather means the spy.

Hor. Unkindly said!

For, Oh! as sure as you accuse me falsely,

I come to prove myself Calista's friend.

Cal. You are my husband's friend, the friend of Altamont !

Hor. Are you not one? Are you not join'd by Heaven,

Each interwoven with the other's fate?

Are you not mixt like streams of meeting rivers,
Whose blended waters are no more distinguish'd,

But roll into the sea, one common flood?

Then who can give his friendship but to one?
Who can be Altamont's and not Calista's?

Cal. Force, and the wills of our imperious rulers, May bind two bodies in one wretched chain; But minds will still look back to their own choice. "So the poor captive in a foreign realm,

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"Stands on the shore, and sends his wishes back
"To the dear native land from whence he came.
Hor. When souls that should agree to will the same,
To have one common object for their wishes,
Look different ways, regardless of each other,
Think what a train of wretchedness ensues :
Love shall be banish'd from the genial bed,
The night shall all be lonely and unquiet,
And ev'ry day shall be a day of cares.

Cal. Then all the boasted office of thy friendship, Was but to tell Calista what a wretch she is.

Alas! what needed that?

Hor. Oh! rather say,

I came to tell her how she might be happy;
To sooth the secret anguish of her soul;
To comfort that fair mourner, that forlorn one,
And teach her steps to know the paths of peace.
Cal. Say thou, to whom this paradise is known,
Where lies the blissful region? Mark my way to it,
For, Oh! 'tis sure I long to be at rest.

Hor. Then-to be good is to be happy--Angels Are happier than mankind, because they're better.

ICO