3519 
 
 Jephson 
 Julia
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 J U L I A : 
 
 OR, T HE 
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 
 
 A 
 TRAGEDY. 
 
 AS IT IS ACTEB AT T 
 
 THEATRE- ROYAL, 
 
 D R U R Y-L A N E. 
 
 By ROBERT JEPHSON, ESQ.. 
 
 primus amir deceptam morte fefellit, VIRG. 
 
 D U U L I N: 
 
 Printed for Meffrs. W. WATSON, CHAMBERLAINP, 
 MONCPIEFFE, COLLES, BuRNET, WILKINSON, 
 WHITE, GILBERT, BYRNE, WPG AN, SWEATER, 
 H. WHITSTONE, V/ALKER, COLFERT, JONES, 
 PARKER, BURTON, LEWIS, M'KENZIE, MOORE, 
 DOR NIK, HAL PC N, andCooNgy. 
 
 MECCLXXXYIII.
 
 
 HIS GRACE 
 CHARLES DUKE OF RUTLAND, 
 
 KNIGHT OP THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THS 
 GARTER, 
 
 LORD LIEUTENANT OF IRELAND, 
 &c. &c. &c. 
 
 IN TESTIMONY OF 
 UNALTERABLE ESTEEM, 
 
 AFFECTION, AND GRATITUDE, 
 
 THIS. TRAGEDY IS INSCRIBED, 
 BY HIS GRACE'S MUCH OBLIGED, 
 AND MOST OBEDIENT, 
 
 HUMBLE SERVANT, 
 
 DVBLIN CASTLE, 
 April n, 1787. 
 
 ROBERT JEPHSON. 
 
 88:1301
 
 PERSONS HEPRESENTED. 
 
 Duke of Genoa, Mr. PACKER. 
 
 Durazzo, Not>Ieman,/att>ertf]u\'ui,Mr. BENSLEY. 
 Mentevole, a young Nobleman, z > ,, 
 
 hvenaitb Julia, j Mr. KEMBLE, 
 
 Marcellus, a young Nobleman, fan 7 \* T 
 
 */Fulvia, j Mr. PALMER. 
 
 Caraillo, his coufin and friend, Mr.WaiTFiELD. 
 
 Manoa, a Merchant, Mr. AJKIN. 
 
 Fulvia, mother of Marcellus, ; 
 Julfa, daughter of Durazzo, 
 Olvmpia, her friend, and fifter of 
 Mentevole, ' 
 
 Nerina, attendant on Julia, 
 
 Mrs. WAHD. 
 Mrs. SID DONS. 
 .- u 
 Mr S ,B RE RETON. 
 
 Mifs TIDSWELL. 
 
 Officer, Guards, and Attendants. 
 SCENE, Genoa.
 
 J U L I A: 
 
 O R, 
 
 THE ITALIAN LOVER. 
 
 A 
 TRACED Y. 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 A Platform. 
 
 Enter MARCELLUS, fuf>f>orting MANOA ; Attendants be- 
 hind. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 LO O K up r Sir ; you are fafe. The tempeft's wild- 
 nefs 
 Seems hufli'd on fhore. Where was your vcfTel bound ? 
 
 MANOA. 
 
 Ancona was her port ; the hurricane 
 Baffled our pilot's (kill, and drove us headlong 
 (Jult as your fhip made good her anchorage,) 
 On the fharp rock, where you beheld her fplit. 
 All my companions, fifty lucldefs men, 
 Sunk in my fight ; and I had iliar'd their fate, 
 Had not your ftrong arm fav'd me. But, alas, 
 We ate in Genoa, if mine eves deceive not. 
 
 B MAR-
 
 he fame. 
 
 J U L I A: OR, THE 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 M A N O A. 
 
 Too well I know it. Shield me Heaven J 
 For what am I referv'd f 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 I hope, to lofe 
 
 The manor/ of your grief, and find peace here. 
 M A N o A. 
 
 no ! to lofe my life, if I'm found here. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Pray, let me know your ftory. By your habit 
 ^guefs you are not of our faith or nation, 
 
 M A N O A. 
 
 1am by birth of Syria; but here fojourn'd 
 Twice twenty years in wealth and fair repute, 
 Till Chriftian malice, or my nation's curfe, 
 Or both combining, turn'd me forth a wanderer. 
 Look there, that very manfion once was mine. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 1 now recall fome traces of that face $ 
 Your name is Manoa ? 
 
 M A N O A. 
 
 Ay, that wretch am I. 
 Thou hv.it rn afpet fo benign and noble, 
 Thou cou'.d'ft not injure me. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Myfelf mnch fooner. 
 
 M A N O A. 
 
 This ftate, for its late levies 'gninft the Tuik, 
 
 CalPd on all traffickers for fums of gold ; 
 
 Our tribe, at my peifuafion, furniili'd them, 
 
 On rates fo eafy to the borrowers, 
 
 The na'ive merchants' offers were refus'd, 
 
 Ami publick clamour, and difgrace, puriued them: 
 
 Thence grew their hate. Of black and monltrouscrim 
 
 Avouch'd on oath by witnefle* fuborn'd, 
 
 They charg'd me guiUlets : flight alone was left, 
 
 To lave mv hunted life, 
 
 M A R C F r ! U
 
 I T A L I A N LOVER. 
 
 M A R C E L L U S. 
 
 And 1 remember, 
 
 'Twas rumour'd you hr.d perifh'd by the fca. 
 Attempting ycur efcape ; and To believ'd : 
 Knaves call' d your fate a judgment. 
 
 M .A N O A. 
 
 To prevtnt 
 
 A hot purfuit, the Hebrews here in Genoa 
 By common concert fpread abroad that rumour-. 
 The death they feign'd, this morning, but for thee, 
 My brave preferver, had indeed o'ei ta'en me. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 I can do more to ferve you. Name your wifh>. 
 
 M A N O A. 
 
 At prefent, this. Not far from hence refides 
 The lord Durazzo, whofe great wealth and power. 
 As heaven fends dews and funfhine, are difpens'd 
 To gladden every humble thing beneath them, 
 Let your men help me there, for 1 am feeble; 
 And this difguife may fave me from the note 
 Of thofe who pafs, though in this flothful city 
 Few leave their down fo early. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Sir, farewel I 
 You /Kail hear more of me. 
 
 M A N o A 
 Accept niy prayers! 
 My heart's too full to fpeak the thanks I owe you. 
 
 [Exit M A N o A , with Attendants. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 He has been fort-ly wrong'd. But who goes there ? 
 
 [CAMILLO faffes over liejiage. 
 I cannot fure miftake him : 'Tis Cnmillo. 
 Good kinfman, turn, and own a friend who loves you. 
 
 CAMILLO returns, 
 
 B 2 S C E N
 
 4 J.U L I A: OR, THE 
 
 SCENE IF. 
 CAMILLO, MARCELLUS. 
 
 c A M i L L o. 
 
 A gentle invitation. Ha! Marccllus ! 
 Welcome once more to Genoa, my dearcoufin. 
 
 ^embracing. 
 
 We heard you had efcap'd with fome flight hurts 
 That bloody lingering bufinefs there at Candia ; 
 But fuch fierce {Verms of late have fwept our coafis, 
 Our fears were, left the angry elements, 
 Leaguing alike againft the Chriftiancrofs, 
 Might prove worfe woes even than the infidels. 
 
 M.ARCELtUS. 
 
 We had rough weather, but our fturdy bark 
 Out-rode it. Is my mother well ? Ar leifure 
 1 fhall fatigue your ear with other queftions 
 My ignorance and your kindnefs mull excufe. 
 
 C A 'M I L L O. 
 
 You have not feen her then ? 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 No f arriv'd 
 
 Within this hour ; and knowing how fhe lov'd- 
 JLov'd even to dotage, my poor bro'her Claudio, 
 (Loft by a fate fo ft range and horrible,) 
 1 would not rufh at once into her prcfence, 
 Till fome kind friend, like you, fhould firft inform mo, 
 How beft to afTuage her grief, and hide my own. 
 
 CAMILLO. 
 
 Thought like a fon. But O, his vanifh'd form, 
 Again preferred in your living likenefs, 
 Will with the ftrong extreme convulfe her foul. 
 And joy fo mix'd with anguifli doubly fliake her. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 'Twaswhat I fear'd, Camillo. I muft try then 
 To fix her fond attention on myfelf, 
 And fliun that direful theme. 
 
 CAMILLO.
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 
 
 C A M I L L O. 
 
 Direful indeed! 
 
 (How my heart ftm'nks even now to think of it !) 
 'Tis ever prefent to her tonur'd fancy : 
 And we who daily fee her, have obferv'd, 
 Our care to give the current of her thoughts 
 A different co.urfe, but fwells up her impatience. 
 You know the lady Fulvia's ardent temper, 
 How fudden, yet how drcng in every feeling. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Our burning mountains, .when their fires burft forth, 
 
 Rage not more fiercely than her bread inflam'd. 
 
 Bet is it poffible, in ail this time, 
 
 Months after months elajJs'd, no light, no fpark, 
 
 To guide to a difcovery has been trac'd ? 
 
 The TmkiJh gailies fo o'erfpread thefea, 
 
 My letters iare!y reach'd me while at Candia. 
 
 _C A MI L L O. 
 
 What have you heaid ? 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 But thus much, and no more : 
 Two days ere th it for his intended marriage 
 With good Durazzo's daughter, lovely Julia, 
 Was Claudio milling ; two days more were pafs'd 
 In fruitlefs fearch, and fad anxiety : 
 When on the fifth, fome we.uy mariners^, 
 Flying for fhelter from a furious dorm, 
 Mid ft the white caverns o.n the weftern ftiore, 
 A mile from Genoa, found his lifclefs body : 
 In hisclencii'd hind was his own blood-dain'd fvvord, 
 And in his manly bread amoital wound. 
 
 c A M i L L o. 
 
 A-nd there ends all our knowledge. Proclamation 
 Of vaft rewards to find his murderer, 
 Is ftill abroad through all the Italian dates. 
 The untouch'd jewels of his codly hab't, 
 Bright and confpicuous, clearly manifed 
 'Twas not the crime of men who kill for fpoil. 
 
 B, 3 MAR-
 
 6 J U L I A: OR, TH tl 
 
 MARCE-LLUS. 
 
 Alas, Camiilo, well I know the place ; 
 
 When we were boys it was our favourite haurr. 
 
 He could not fure have fall'n by his own fword ? 
 
 c A M i L L o. 
 
 Impolfible : A thought fo black and fuilen 
 Ne'er dim'd the funfhine of his chearful breaft. 
 The joy he long had figh'd for in his reach, 
 Poflefs'd of all ihat gikis the morn of life, 
 And each fair profpett bright'ning to his hopes ; 
 Befides, the exalted tenour of his mind, 
 Too firm and fu'l for wild extremities ; 
 They cru'fh that black conclufion : nay the fkilful, 
 Who fearch'd the wound with clofeft art and care, 
 Pronounc'd it not the execrable work 
 Of his own fword, but fcnr.e afTaflin's fled. 
 
 M A R C E L L U S. 
 
 May wakeful confciencr, like a wiiihing make, 
 If {till he lives, curl round the villain's heart, 
 With iharf eft venom to con fume an<! ^naw him ! 
 I know ourbafe, Italian; {tabbing fpiiit ; 
 In the clofe art of fpirit nore evcdl us. 
 We tread the very earth, breathe the fame air, 
 With ( ur old Latin fires; but, for their virtues, 
 As well might eagles niille their huge plumes 
 Where owlets leotl, or filthy kites engender, 
 -\s the,/ find ilveltei in our daftatd breads. 
 
 c A M i L L o. 
 
 Let ethers rail ; but thine's u nobler tafii ; 
 To fhame degen'racy by fair example ; 
 For twenty for\vard fpirits, like thine own, 
 Might fliake this rtate from its inglorious trance, 
 And roufe out floth to gallant enterprife. 
 
 M A R C E L L U S. 
 
 I lefc it a luxurious, \voithlefs city, 
 
 Proud of its trafh, its wealth ; if fuch I find it, 
 
 1 will not ftrike my lazy root at home', 
 
 To rot in rank contagious apathy, 
 
 But feek again 2 fceoeof vigorous action. 
 
 The
 
 ITALIAN LOVER, 
 
 The unlkilful perfeverance of the Turk 
 Still wakes excitement for a foldier's ardour. 
 But who are thofe fo earned in difcourfe ? 
 This way they move. 
 
 c A M i L L o. 
 
 Durazzo is theeldeft. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Fair Julia's father ; him I know. The other ? 
 
 C A M I L L O. 
 
 Mentevole his name, a noble youth, 
 And fuitor(hope!efsly, I think,) to Julia, 
 Though vulgar fame calls him a favour'd wooer. 
 But this report, fUrtling your mother's ear, 
 (Who brooks no flight to her fort's meaiory,) 
 Has much eftrang'd her from Durazzo's houfe : 
 And thus, the bonds of their long amity 
 The lie with many mouths has puff'd afunder. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 My care fhall be to reunite their friend iliip. 
 But how mult I cfteem Mentevole ? 
 
 c A M i L L o. 
 
 As one accompliili'd, brave, and liberal. 
 Soon after your departure for the ficge, 
 He came from travel home, and was to Claudio 
 A fecond felf. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 So {hall he be to me ; 
 
 I'll wear him l.ere. But 'go thou to my rmthir, 
 Prepare her for my coming. For a moment 
 Le.U'e me to greet this venerable lo;d, 
 And beg his introduction to the ftranger. [Exit CAM. 
 
 S C E N E III. 
 
 7' MARCF.LLUS, DURAZZO, and MENTEVOLE. 
 The ruddy hue your vifage owns, my lord, 
 I fee with pleafure is found health's true enfign : 
 Your eye's quick fpirit too, proclaims you frefli 
 As when the race of carelefs youth began. 
 
 DURAZZO.
 
 8 J U L I A : O R, T H E 
 
 D U P. A Z Z O. 
 
 Such is your wifh, Marcellus, and I thank you. 
 
 welcome, to thy country ! thy fmooth cheek 
 Has chang'd its down for manhood fince we parted. 
 But for thefe well-known kindred lineaments, 
 
 1 fcarce durft fwear, thou wert that playful boy, 
 Whofe frolicks ufed to mar cur gravity,. 
 
 And nuke us fmile while chiding. 
 
 M A R C E L L U S. 
 
 I remember 
 
 Your goodntfs always ; now entreat youi favour, 
 To recommend me to this lord's e'lteem, 
 As, by the title o'f my brother's friend, 
 He claims already mine. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 Mentevolc, 
 Give him your hand. 
 
 M E N T E V O . L E. 
 
 My heart too, 'twas his brother's ; 
 And by that pledge grows thus at once acquainted. 
 
 DURA z z o. 
 
 Marcellus, you muft tell me of your wars, 
 Your mines, you/ follies, ambufcades, ard dangers. 
 Though now 'tis long fince I was caled in Heel, 
 The crefcent of our fwarthy fee h.\s felt me. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 They are fluggifli foldiers, but light obfiinaie: 
 So numerous too, it feems an eafier taflc 
 To kill, than count them. Now twice fifty thoufand, 
 And more, have fall'n, in facking one poor ifle ; 
 Yet like light foam chaf'd by the cuiling furge, 
 Each hour new turbans whiten round its fliotes. 
 But yet I have not vifited my mother, 
 And (lie by this expefts me. 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 Get thee to 1 er. 
 Unhappy lady, may your prefence cheer her ! 
 
 [Exit A'lARCELLUS. 
 
 SCENE
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O, MENTEVOLE. 
 
 'Is he not like to Claudio ? 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Rather fay, 
 
 Is't not himfelf, as ere the tomb received him ? 
 But dear my lord, by all that charm'd your youth, 
 Forgive me, though I feem importunate: 
 O, win your daughter to accept my vows j 
 For I have lov'd to fuch a mad excefs, 
 So ftor'd up every thought of happinefs 
 In that fond hope, fliould I prove bankrupt theie, 
 I dare not look to earth or Heaven for comfort. 
 
 D u a A z z o. 
 
 Mentevole, I doubt not of your lox r e ; 
 My daughter too believes it ; a feign'd paffion 
 Speakes not your fervent language : 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 A feign'd paffion ! 
 Thus hear me fwear 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 Oaths are unneceflary. 
 
 My tongue has not been niggard of your praife j 
 I've tried entreaties too. A hardi command, 
 Heard with repugnancy, that fhefhould love, 
 Becaufe her anxious father deems it meet, 
 Or you would have it fo, might change at once 
 The difference you complain of to nverfion. 
 Thus the calm leak that flept at peace before, 
 Turns a ftrong tide, and fets againft your wifhes. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 O, the degrees, my lord, are infinite, 
 
 Between a harfh command, and fuch perfuafion 
 
 As every day the fondeft parents ufe, 
 
 In tender ftrife with a coy maid's reluctance. 
 
 Were I to plead as a feed advocate, 
 
 Even for a fcanty rood of barren earth, 
 
 I fliould account me faithlefs to my charge, 
 
 My rhetorick o'erpriz'd at one poor ducat, 
 
 Did
 
 io JULIA; OR, THE 
 
 Did I negleft a glofs, or argument, 
 
 Might fway the unwilling judge to 1117 decifioa. 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 Inftruft me to fpeed better. I fliall thank you. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 My words, my aftton, fhould have life and grace ; 
 
 I'd probe hisreafon, try his every humour, 
 
 Wind to his inmoft foul, grow to his eye, 
 
 Watch where imprefllon ftole upon his fenfe ; 
 
 There piy my ftrength, where mod I found him weak, 
 
 Nor ceafe to urge till I had conquer'd him. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 Paffion thus blindfolded fees noobftacle. 
 
 Young man, young man, be calm a while, and hear me. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Yet tell me not, my fuit is defperate ; 
 
 Sooth, though you cannot heal; and I will liften, 
 
 As if I liv'd by every found you utter'd, 
 
 And death and inattention were the fauae. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 You knew long fince, to fee my-daughter wedded, 
 Without a variance 'twtxt her choice and mine, 
 Was my prime wifh. Malignant deftiny 
 Marr'd that fair profpect. The a (Tallin's ftab 
 Had ahnoft pierc'd with one pernicious ftroke 
 Two faithful breafls. Anguifli unutterable 
 On her foft frame lay'd fuch a deadly grafp, 
 Too long I trembled for her life and reafon. 
 
 M E N T E V O L E. 
 
 Spare me, my lord, O fpare me the remembrance ; 
 It harrows me too deeply. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 Can you queftion, 
 I wifh to fee her unavailing forrow 
 Chang'd to gay feftivab, and bridal joy ? 
 Or think you, that fupinely I can view 
 (Thuschildlefs, but in her,) my houfe's honours, 
 My large eftates, funk in a virgin's tomb, 
 Or fcatter'd 'mongft remote and thanklefs kindred ; 
 
 When,
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. n 
 
 When, by alliance with your well-match'd love, 
 Such near and natural heirs may fpring to blefs me ? 
 
 M E N T E V O L E. 
 
 Why, grant it all, yet how have I prevail'd ? 
 My pretence flie endures, for you defir'd it ; 
 Yet, if the only theme can touch me nearly, 
 But trembles from my tongue, her cheek turns pale 5 
 Her blood runs back, as muttering to her heart, 
 To fortify the accefs more ftrong againft me. 
 1 pity him, who thinks he has known diftrefs, 
 And never felt the pang of hopelefs love : 
 The confummation of all other ills 
 Is light and trivial to that mifery. 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 Time may do much, nor fhall my aid be wanting. 
 Urge me no more, nor doubt me. Your kind fitter, 
 Olympia, the companion (he holds dear, 
 May unobferv'd watch every foft approach, 
 And fteal a lover's image on her fancy. 
 Kut lo, ihe comes. Farewel ! J go to ferve you. 
 
 [Exit DURAZZO. 
 
 SCENE 
 
 MENTEVOLE . 
 
 He goes to ferve me ! Let his feeble breath 
 
 Turn ice to fire, wake in her frozen bofoin 
 
 Such hot confuming flames as I feel here ! 
 
 O, I could fluice my veins, mangie this form, 
 
 This common form, that wants the power to move her. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 To him O r, Y M p i A. 
 
 Tell me, Olympia, are not women woo'd 
 By conftancy, and deep- protefted oaths? 
 By living on their fmiles, by nice attentions ? 
 Hy yielding up our reafon to their humours ? 
 Ity adoration of their beauty's power?
 
 12 JULIA: OR, THE 
 
 By fighs, and tears, by flattery, kneeling, fawning ? 
 Tell me how many ways a manly mind 
 Mud be debas'd, to win a lady's (mile ? 
 
 o L Y M p i A. 
 
 That which by bafene'fs only can be gain'd, 
 Were better undefir'd. But fay, good, brother, 
 Why do you queftion with fuch angry hafte, 
 And what ftrange fury ruffles all your mein ? 
 Give me your hand : it burns. You are not well. 
 Your mind unquiet fevers thus your blood. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 No, no : a woman's coldnefs. Your fair friend, 
 Teach her to fmile, and my diftemper dies. 
 
 o L Y M P i A. 
 
 She has no fenfeof joy : that beauteous flower 
 Bows its fweet head o'er Claudio's bloody grave. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Mud that eternal found grate on me ftill ! 
 Haft thou been faithful to me ? Haft thou told her, 
 How thou haft feen thefe lids, even at her name, 
 Swell with unbidden tides of melting fondnefs ? 
 Whole nights how I have fiil'd thy patient ear, 
 And flie my only theme ? How many times, 
 When chance has given her beauties to my fight, 
 Thou haft beheld me, trembling, try to fpenk 
 And gaze away my meaning ? 
 
 o L Y M P i A. 
 
 Nay, my lord, 
 
 Endeavours true as mine difdain fufpicion : 
 And let me fay, if flic fliould ne'er confent, 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 How's that ? take heed ! if Hie fliould ne'er confent? 
 Put not my life on chilling fuppofition ; 
 Make it the doubt, Olympia, of a moment, 
 And though thou art my fitter, and a dear one, 
 By heaven, I almoft think that I fliall hate thee : 
 For here 1 (wear, deeply and calmly fwcar it, 
 The hour which fees me defperate of her love, 
 Shall be my laft.
 
 1 T A L I A N L O V E R. 13 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 For fhame ! be more a man. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 By the great power which gave me fenfe and being, 
 I'll wreit from fare my tolly's chaitifement, 
 And this right hand fhall end me. 
 
 o L Y M p i A. 
 
 , Oh ! how fhocking, 
 
 To hear with what devout impiety, 
 Thou dar'ft call heaven to witnefs of an oath, 
 Outrageous to its own blefs'd providence I 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Well, be it as it may, 1 have fworn it. 
 Knows Hie that young Marcellus is arrived ? 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 Yes, and the pleafing tidings for a moment 
 Difpell'd the cloud that dim'd her beauteous eyes. 
 Inftant Hie beg'd me, and witk warmth ur.u'uul, 
 To bear her greetings to his mother Fulvia ; 
 I now was on my way. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Then, bear tfcy mefiage ; 
 Gr>,J3e the agent to deftroy thy bother. 
 This compliment, I know, is but the prelude, 
 To invite a feeond Claudio, in Marcel IAS 
 
 o L Y M r 
 
 If peace be worth a wifh, and love te fuch 
 In every other bofom, as in thine, 
 Let the fhort fiory on my grave -done te!!, 
 " Nor loving, nor belov'd, Olymp : a dicii." 
 
 MENTEVOLK. 
 
 You never wifh'i! more wifely : but forgive me 
 Pardon my infirmity, 'tis too like mad nets. 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 'Tis worfe, for madmen have their intervals ; 
 Thine's an eternal rage. 
 
 > C M F, N T f . V L E ,
 
 i 4 J U L I A: OR, THE 
 
 MENTEVOLt. 
 
 Go not in anger : 
 
 Return ; I will be calm ; return, Olympia. 
 Thus on my knee let me entreat you hear me. 
 
 [offering to knetl, 
 OLYMPIA. 
 
 Tray, rife. We may be feen. What is't ? go on. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 I have a never-failing inftincl here, 
 
 Which promptsmewhattodread. Thisyoung Marcellus 
 
 OLYMPIA. 
 
 Well, what of him ? 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 I know, will Ice her fliortly. 
 Crowd all thy faculties into thine eye ; 
 Read his reception keenly ; mark him too ; 
 And give me note of every circumftance : 
 Their words, their looks, let not a glance efcape thee, 
 Promife me fo, and from this hour, Olympia, 
 Thy prudence {hall be my fole counfellor : 
 Though you enjoin me to be blind and mute, 
 I'll bear it patient as the tutor'd child, 
 Whofe fond inftruclor fmiles, and teaches him. 
 
 OLYMPIA. 
 
 Keep thefe conditions, and command my fei vice. 
 I linger here too long. Remember patience. 
 
 [Exit OLYMPIA. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 MENTEVOLE, alone. 
 
 And what more likely ? He is Claudio's brother; 
 Noble as he, and deck'd too with the plume 
 Of brave adventure in the Candisn war ; 
 Younger, and not lefs comely. She rmy call it 
 (As women make fluewd logick for their likings) 
 Truth to the memory of her former vows, 
 
 i To
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 
 
 To embrace the living brother for the dead j 
 And fo find faith in her inconftancy. 
 1 know not why, my genius ftuinks at him : 
 The very/tor craves vengeance, like a wrong. 
 Beware, gay fttipling ! no degenerate awe 
 Of what may be, can check my fiery courfe: 
 She muft be mine, and _/?><*// be. For the incans 
 Or good or ill, nectflity muft fhape ihem. 
 
 ffMB OF Till mtT ACT. 
 
 ACT
 
 J U L I A: OR, THE 
 
 A C T II. S C E N E I. 
 
 A Chamber in Durazzo's Palace. 
 
 JULIA, alone at a Table , putting up paflers which foe 
 has teen reading. She preffts them pajfionately to her 
 heart, kijfes them, an d j "peaks. 
 
 Dear, fad remembrances, my tears have (foin'd you. 
 O, foolifh drops, waih not away my treafure! 
 Unenvied, unobferv'd, and folitary, 
 Let me in.'ulge this luxury of grief. 
 My Claudio's foul was poui 'd out on thefe papers ; 
 And every little word recalls him to me, 
 Lovely, belov'd, in beauty's manly bloom, 
 Protcfting welcome vows, and breathing paffion. 
 
 SCENE If. 
 
 To ler OLYMPIA. 
 
 Retnrn'd fo fpecdily, my gentle friend ? 
 Your cares are fo preventive of my .wifhes, 
 I ftiall begin to expect beyond all hounds, 
 And grow prefuming from too much indulgence. 
 
 O r Y M p i A. 
 
 From Fulvia and her fon I hriug, my Julia, 
 A thoufand kind endearments. Both together 
 Wi'h cordial acceptation heard your meflage, 
 And prefemly both mean to vifit you. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Why does notpleafure kindle through my frame, 
 And mount up to my cheek, at fuch <jl;u1 tidings ? 
 The time hns been, I irtould have <^low'd at this, 
 Countinn the inip^'icn 1 - moments till her coming : 
 Bur my repining heart defeives no biertiiig 5 . 
 
 OLV\T?I A
 
 I T A L r A N E O VE R. 17 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 To labour to forget, I know, is vain ; 
 The fond endeavour toils againft itfelf. 
 And deeper graves the idea 'twould efface ; 
 
 Yet there arc means 
 
 JULIA. 
 Unprofitable all. 
 
 How have I dragg'd about this weary load, 
 Through every change of place and circumftance I 
 I mingled with the young, the gay, the happy ;. 
 Forcing a hollow fmile at giddy joy, 
 While my pale heart fat mocking it within: 
 The arrow flicking here, from fcene 10 fcene 
 You led my fad infenfibility, 
 The objects varying, but my foul the fame. 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 Too much, I fear, we try'd, and you endur'd 
 Our well-meant, unavailing fervices. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Could I forbear, I would not weep, Olympia ; 
 Indeed I would not ; for it pains my friends. 
 'Twas fuch a black, unapprehended horrour, 
 So fudden, and fo dreadfully confummate, 
 I fornetimes for a moment clofe my eyes, 
 And (hive to think, I've in.j a hideous dream ; 
 Th< t, (till he lives, and 1 again fhall fee him : 
 Ah, no ! the fliorr illufion is the dream ; 
 Claudio, thy death the dire reality. 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 The volume of his days too foon was clos'd ; 
 But grace and honour had fo fill'd the record, 
 Each page out-weigh'd a long life's hiftory. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 This was the hour, when my dear father came, 
 Trembling and pale, to falter out the tidings. 
 That inllant, mighty ruler of our fates ! 
 H^d thy exterminating arm icach'd here, 
 Thefe floods of bitter tears, this black defpair, 
 Had not been number'd with the fins of Julia. 
 
 . C 3 OLYMPJA.
 
 i8 J U L I A: OR, THE 
 
 O L Y M P 1 A. 
 
 Tame languid minds, whofe courfe glides dully on, 
 Yield, as the ft ream to the {harp fevering keel, 
 To clofe as quickly on each tranflent wound ; 
 But woe's deep traces never leave thy bread. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Was 1 not mad, Olympia ? I remember, 
 
 I felt the flab in Genoa. When I wak'd, 
 
 The place, nor aught around me, were the fame : 
 I faw the fmooth Bifagnio, as 1 lay, 
 Rolling his quiet tide beneath my window ; 
 It (eeni'd Elyfuim, and the peaceful {hades 
 Where guiltlefs lovers are no more divided. 
 
 OLYMPIA. 
 
 But now, my friend, col'edt your fortitude ; 
 Nor ftsrt, when you behold your Claudio's image 
 Recall'd to life, and blooming in Marcellus : 
 1 know, he'll foon be here. 
 JULIA. 
 
 Why fliould I dread it? 
 Difus'd even to the fhadowof a joy, 
 tyly fickly appreheniiv,!! plays the coward : 
 Yet I will lee him. 
 
 OLYMPIA. 
 
 You turn pale, my Julia j 
 Shall I forbid his coining I 
 j u L i A. 
 
 No. This weaknefs 
 Will pafs away. A treacherous heftick waftes me : 
 
 ] fh;tll i ot furfer long. Is he fo like, 
 
 So very like his l.rother ? 
 
 OLYMPIA. 
 
 Features, ftature, 
 
 Almoft the fame. Somewhat a bolder air, 
 Yet gentle ftill ; and (youthful as he is) 
 A little frown of difcontented thought 
 Catfs o'er hi brow a motnentay {hade, 
 That feeais not tiaiive to his generous afpeft. 
 
 JULIA.
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 19 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 In fuch an afpeft was my paradife. 
 
 But now pale lead lies on that mouldering face: 
 
 Whofe beams (Lot rapture once to Julia's bofom. 
 
 o L y M P i A. 
 
 By nature fram'd for every genial blifs, 
 Turn, gently turn, from that cold retiofpedt ! 
 
 And there is one 
 
 j u i, i A. 
 I know whom you would name. 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 Then fmile, and name him for me. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 No, i cannot ; 
 
 I cannot fmile, and name Mentcvole : 
 But yet, I much refpeft him. 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 Bare rtfpeft 
 For pafllon fuch as his ! 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Olympia, fpare me ; 
 In this alone I mull feem obtlirme. 
 
 OLYMPIA. 
 
 Alas, poor brother ! [afide. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Haik! my father comes ; 
 Hold him a little moment in difcourfe ; 
 I would not have him fee 1 had been weeping. 
 
 [JUL.IA retires a little. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 To JULIA and OLYMPIA, DORAZZO. 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 I come, Olympia, to this chamber door, 
 To learn my deiliny. As we inquire 
 From thofe who wuke us, if the fun looks brigr/t, 
 
 Or
 
 20 JULlAjORTHE 
 
 Or clouds obfurehim, and then fuit our garments 
 To meet the changeful temper of the fky, 
 So, by the colour of my daughter's health, 
 My mind is drefs'd for gladnefs or dejection. 
 
 O L Y M P 1 A. 
 
 I think, fhe mends. Herforrow, that was filent, 
 Finds fome relief in utterance. She approaches. 
 
 JULIA. 
 Your blefling, fir ! 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 O, may it drop upon thee, 
 Refrefhing as mild dews on vernal flowers, 
 To kill the canker that confuraes thy fragrance ! 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 My heart, my grateful heart, owns all your goodnefs } 
 
 And could my fir ft devotion reach the fky, 
 
 Time and your honour'd daysfhould end together. 
 
 u R A z z o. 
 
 Not too long life, pray not for curfes on me ! 
 Helplefs, uncomely, loath'd, and burdenfome, 
 I would not cling to the laft hold of nature, 
 Nor lag without one focial cord to aid me. 
 Surviving my companions of the voyage, 
 The world to me wou'd feem to me a ru'm'd veffe!, 
 A worthlefs wreck, when mann'd alone by ftrangers. 
 Let my heart burft at once with lome great feeling ! 
 Let me go altogether to my grave, 
 Not maim'd and piece-meal with infirmity ! 
 1 have liv'd enough, could I but fee thee happy. 
 
 JULIA. 
 That will not be. 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 I fwear, it muft, It {hall be ; 
 And come, I have a fuit which you muft grant me. 
 
 JULIA. 
 My deareft father ! [throwing her arms round bint. 
 
 T> U R A V-
 
 ITALIAN tOVE-R. 21 
 
 DURA Z 2 O. 
 
 Change thefe mourning weeds : 
 For outward figns, though trifles in themfelves, 
 When the mind's weak, andfpirits delicate: 
 To fancy, in herfelf too powerful, 
 Lend their mute aid, and make her workings ftronger, 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 This habit was bed fuited to my mood, 
 But fkall no more offend you. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 FairOlympia, 
 
 I now muft beg your aid. Your conftant frothcr, 
 (Nor does proud Genoa boaft a nobler youth,) 
 With adoration fuch as faints pay heaven, 
 Devotes his fervice here. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Ah fir, for pity I 
 
 I feel myfelf not worthy of his pafllon. 
 My foul is out of time to flattery : 
 The fondeft vows that ever lover figh'd, 
 Might wring my eyes, but never warm my heart, 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 Nay, ftop thefe tears j I'll urge this theme DO more. 
 And fee, an honour' d vifitant approaches j 
 Receive her not in rbtrow. 
 
 To them FULVIA ; MARCELLHS behind, JULIA and 
 FULVZA tmbract 
 
 F U L V I A. 
 
 l.ovely Julia, 
 
 In this embrace I hop'd to have clafp'd a daughter j 
 To have call'd theemine, by an endearing lie, 
 That yields alone to nature's clofeft bond : 
 But though that fleet del u five dream is vaniiVd, 
 With pride I own thy native excellence. 
 Thefe eager throbbings, while I hold thee thus, 
 Are (Irongcr protettations how I prize thee, 
 Than all thelavifli praife my tongue could utter. 
 
 JULIA.
 
 32 J U L*I A : O R, T H E 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Here let me grow for ever, noae divide us ! 
 Methinks, when thcfe protecting arms enfold me, 
 Long-vanilVd peace feems to return once more, 
 And fpread her dove like wings again to fhield me. 
 
 MARCH LLUS. 
 They told me truth, I never faw fuch beauty, 
 
 [dftde, faking at JULIA 
 
 F U L V 1 A. 
 
 Vile (lander, on my life, has wrong'd her virtue. \afidt. 
 
 Have I not feem'd unkind, fo many months 
 
 A ftranger here, where ever- new delight 
 
 Sprung in our paths ; where each returning morn, 
 
 Among the happy, found me happieft ? 
 
 But O, I fear'd forthee, and for ruyfelf ; 
 
 Our walks, thefe chambers, every fenfelefs object, 
 
 By known relation to our common lofs, 
 
 Had conjur'd up to our accuftom'd fenfe 
 
 Sad vifions of his looks, his getlures, words, 
 
 And multiplied tht ideas we ilioalJ baniih, 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 I judg'd it not unkindnefs, for 1 know 
 Your generous nature feels for all who fuffcr, 
 And it to have been once fupremely blefs'd, 
 To have reach'd the height of every human wifli, 
 Then fudden but your fwelling eyes reproach me, 
 You own'd him firft, before hii birth yon lov'd him , 
 But O, this felfifh grief forgets all titles, 
 
 F u L'V i A. 
 
 Yet join with me to blefs that providence, 
 Which bending gracious to a parent's prayer, 
 'Midft all the perils of destructive war, 
 Prefei v'd one pillar of my falling houfe. 
 Come near, my fon ; and in this fair perfection. 
 Behold, what next to thee, the world contains 
 Moft precious to thy mother. 
 
 [MARC ELL us ivho has been behind ivith DURAZZO, 
 
 JULIA.
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 35 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Saints and angels I [jlarling. 
 Am I awake, or is this mockery? 
 O, I could gaze for ever on that face. 
 Nor wifh to roufe ine from the dear delufion. 
 Still let me know him only by my eyes i 
 O, donot (peak, left fome unufual found, 
 An alien to my ear, difTolve this vifion, 
 And tell me rhou but wear'ft my Claudio's outfidel 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 If it commend me, Madam, to your favour, 
 1 would not change it for the comelieft form 
 That ever charm'd the eye with fair proportion. 
 But ftop not at the exterior, fearch me deeply ; 
 For proof, command me inftant to your fervice ; 
 Though peiil walk with death in the atchievement, 
 Swifter than falcons through the tracklefs air 
 My eager thoughts fhail fiy to your obedience. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Take heed, take heed, tempt not the dangerous fliore ; 
 Rocks, fhelves, and quickfands lurk, I fear, around me ; 
 And let one gallant vefTel's mipwreck warn thee, 
 Shun the fame courfe, and find a happier fortune. 
 
 MARCELLUS, 
 
 I fear no (helves, no quickfands, but thy frown. 
 Aw'd and enraptui'd I behold fuch beauty ; 
 And while 1 talk thus, wifli to find fome language 
 Fit for a being of a fphere above me. 
 
 [A Servant enters, and nubiffers OLYMPIA. 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 Julia, a word. Mentevole attends, [to JULIA afide. 
 And alks to be admitted. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Now ? not now 
 
 Indeed I cannot fee him. Quick, my Olympia, 
 Pievent his entrance. My pooi fluttering heart, 
 (Iffuddenly that name is founded to me,) 
 Heats, like a prifon'd bird againft its cage, 
 When fome annoying hand is ftretch'd to feize it. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O,
 
 24 JULIA: OR THE 
 
 D U R A Z Z O, 
 
 Madam, this day which brings you back to us, [ 
 We fhould make feftival. Your prefence here 
 Has wrought a miracle. I have not feen 
 A (mile of joy enlighten that dear face, 
 Heaven knows how long, till you brought funfhine with 
 you. 
 
 F u L v i A. 
 
 I have upbraidings for my abfence, here 5 
 The caule, I'm lure, a ialfe one. In atonement, 
 Let me obferve her with a mother's care. 
 Invention {hall be rack'd to find new means, 
 To lure her thoughts to fweet ferenity. 
 She fhall not fee the frequent tears that wear 
 Their woeful channel down a parent's cheeks ; 
 And to the brighteft fource of mortal comfort, 
 1 will commend her, when I kneel to heaven. 
 
 D C R A Z Z/0. 
 
 May plumes of feraphs waft your pious prayers! 
 The tendernefs of women has a charm, 
 Our rougher natures can attain but rudely. 
 Your voices are fuch dulcet inftruinents, 
 They ftcal the liilening foul from its affliction, 
 To wind it gently in the foft enchantment. 
 
 F u L v i A. 
 
 O, may that power be mine ! Obferve, my Julia, 
 My lord commits you to my guardianfhip ; 
 Do you confirm the truft? 
 
 J U I. J A. 
 
 An outcaft's fortune 
 Might pitilefs fall on me, could 1 fail 
 To bend with reverence for your dear protection. 
 
 F u L v i A 
 
 Come, let us hence ; the air is mild abroad. 
 Julia, we muft noi ink, but tiiive to baniili 
 That reftlefs inbred foe to the aftlitled, 
 Reflection, from oc.r bofoms.
 
 I T A L I A N L O V E R. 25 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Would, I could ! 
 But death's long fleep alone can banifh him. 
 
 [ Exeunt all but M A R c E L L u 5 . 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 My foul and all its faculties go with her : [looking after 
 
 Grace, beauty, fweetnefs, all that captivates, JULIA. 
 
 And holds us long in dear delicious bonds, 
 
 Indiflbluble bcxnds, for time too thong, 
 
 For change, or cafualty, are futnm'd up there. 
 
 Divinity of love, absolute matter, 
 
 From this white hour, to thy all potent fway 
 
 Thus 1 fubmit me: hence, all idje thoughts, 
 
 I chafe you forth. Full-pluin'd ambition, glory, 
 
 Anns, and the war, farewell! Her brightei image 
 
 Claims all my bofom, and difdains a rival.. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE VF. 
 A Place before Durazzo's Palace. 
 
 ME NT EV o L E , ivith a letter ; and a Servant. 
 Convey this letter to the lady Fulvia ; 
 Be muffled clofe, and cloak'd, that none may know you; 
 J>peak not a word, but leave it, and return. [*/'/ Seiv. 
 Pride and.fufpicion, in her violent temper, 
 From this fliort fcioll will work rare mifchief for me; 
 One fpark will let her paffionrin a blaze: 
 
 A hint to her is proof demohftraiive 
 
 So, I muft bear this loo ; ihe will not fee me, 
 Her health is delicate. ' But young M-ircellus, 
 He firs a lady'b chamber at all feafons j 
 Soft as Favonius, and a cherub's cheek 
 Is not fo fmoih and rofy. Precious minion ! 
 '1 hey think me fure a tame enduring flave, 
 A trampled clod : they iliall not find me fuch. 
 The (canty drop which once was patience here, 
 Flames us it fbws, and kindles all my nature 
 To its own element of fire within me'. 
 Ha! he appears. Choice me not, indignation! 
 Piey in'vatdsJ down! while I difiemble caimr.efs- 
 
 [MENTEVOLE retires a little. 
 D S C ji N li
 
 26 J U L I A: OR, THE 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 MARCELLUS enters, looking back. 
 Ay, there's the attraction. Thou unconfcious houfe, 
 Thy turrets ftiould be cafed with beaten gold ; 
 For thou enflirin'ft a goddels. Can it be ? 
 Not three years pafs VI, regardlefs of her charms 
 Day after day f faw her, and forgot them. 
 Or does the beauty of the full-blown rofe 
 Surpafs the promife of the opening bud ? 
 I fure lov'd laud;o well ; no brother's bond 
 Was truer to a brother ; yet felf ! felt"! 
 This fudden flower now fprings up from his grave, 
 That in a brother lies a rival buried. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. [advances. 
 
 My lord, well met. You then havefeen this wonder. 
 -Has fame exceeded, think you ? 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 How exceeded ? 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Spoke Julia fairer than your eyes confefs her ? 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 All eyes, all hearts, with rapture muft confefs her ^ 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Then I muft think, you do -oat mean to pine 
 In filent adoration ? 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 What blefs'd drain 
 Can touch that gentle bofom ? 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Take my counfel ; 
 
 Devote thy foul to any thing but love ; 
 Steep thy drench'd fenfes in the mad'ning bowl; 
 Heap gold, and hug the mammon for itfelf ; 
 Set province."; on dice ; o'er the pale lamp 
 Of fickly fcience wafte thy vigorous youth ; 
 RuHi to the war, or cheer the deep-tongu'd hound ; 
 Be thou the proverb'd flave of each, or all j 
 
 They
 
 I T A L- 1 A N LOVER. . 27 
 
 They iTiall not be fo noxious to thy Tout, 
 As dainty woman's love. 
 
 M A R C E L L IT S. 
 
 If this be counll'l, 
 
 It comes with fuch a harm and boifterpus brcnrh', 
 I more difcern the freedom, ths.n the friendship. 
 
 M B N T E V O L E. 
 
 Falfly our poets deck the barbarous god. 
 With rofeat hue, with infants' dimpling fmiles, 
 With wanton curls, and wings of downy gold . 
 He dips his darts in poifonous aconite ; 
 The fiery venom rankles in out veins, 
 Infufes rage, and murderous cruel;y. 
 
 M A R C E L L U S. 
 
 The richeft juice pourd in a tainted jar, 
 Turns to a naufeous and unwholefome draught,. 
 But we condemn the veflel, not the wine; 
 So gentle love, lodg'd in a favage breaft, 
 May change his nature to a tyger's fiercenefs. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Away with vain difguife ! Mark me, my lord, 
 I long have lov'd this lady with a paffion, 
 Too quick and jealous, not to find a rival, 
 Too fierce to brook him. She receives my vows j 
 Her father favours them. WcaKh, titles, honour, 
 My rank in the ftate, and many fair additions 
 (Surpafs'd by none) keep buoyant my full hopes. 
 If yet your heart's untouched, I afk, entreat it, 
 (And ftrangers grant fuch common courtefies,) 
 Foibearyour vifns to her. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Believe this ; 
 
 Were there a fafting lion in my path, 
 I'd rather this good fteel hereby my fide 
 Should grow one piece with the flieath, or in my grafp 
 .Shrink to a bulrufli, but to mock the wieider, 
 Than feed you with the fmalleft hope or promife 
 1 meant not to fulfil. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Then we are foes. 
 
 D 2 MARCELLUS.
 
 28 JULIA: OR, THE 
 
 M A R C E L L U S.' 
 
 I'm forry for't. 
 
 MENTEVOLB. 
 
 Deadly, irreconcilable. 
 Two eager racers flatting for one goal, 
 B >th cannot win, but iliau e in lift find the lofer. 
 You ftep between me, and the light of heaven, 
 You ftrive to rob me of my life's beft hope, 
 (For life without her were my curfe, my burden,) 
 Wish cruel calmnefs ynu pluck out my heart ; 
 Therefore, were the world's bounds more wide and large, 
 They could not hold us both. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 I little thought 
 
 To draw my fword ngainit my brother's friend ; 
 And here atteft heaven, and my peaceful foul, 
 You drag this qu.urcl on me, 
 
 M^E N T E V O' L K. 
 
 Yonder herd, 
 
 Who prying now would interrupt our purpofe, 
 Will two hours hence behous'd to avoid the fun, 
 Then riding at his height ; at home I'll wait you, 
 And lead you thence to a fequeftered fpot, 
 Fit for tie mortal ifiue of our meeting. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Since you will have it fo, 
 
 M E N T E V O L E. 
 
 The die is call. 
 
 Have I the bulk and Gnewy ftrength of man, 
 But to fuftain a heavier injury ? 
 Let cowards fhiver with a fmother'd hate, 
 And fear the evil, valour might avert : 
 M he brave man's fword fecures his deiliny. 
 
 [Exeunt feveral/jf. 
 
 END OK THE SECOND ACT. 
 
 ACT
 
 I T A L 1 A N L O V E R. 29 
 
 ACT 111. SCENE I. 
 A Garden, be hind Men te vole's b&ufe. 
 
 MENTEVOLE alone, on a garden jeat, lushing at a 
 
 pi6iu>e. 
 
 And niuft I he content with thee, poor fhadow ? 
 Yet (he's lefs kind than this her counterfeit, 
 For this looks pleas'd, find fcenis to fmile upon me. 
 O, what a fonn is here ! her poliflvd f'rorr, 
 Blue Herder veins, wincing their iiiken maze, 
 Through fiefli of living fnow. Young Hebe's 'iue, 
 Bluihing ainbrofial health. Her plenteous trefTes-, 
 Luxuriant beauty! Thole bewitching eyes, 
 That (hot their left contagion to my tbul ; 
 But where's their varied tweetnefs? Where -the fire 
 To drive men wild with pailion to their ruin ? 
 Where are her gentle wo;ds ? the dewy breath 
 Balming the new- liluwii lofts Ms exhaled through ? 
 Thou envious happy lawn, hide thofe white orbs. 
 That Iwe-Sl beneath thy folds ! O power of beauty, 
 if thoucanft fandify By heaven, my frier: (fifes. 
 Up fair perdition ! [attempting baftily to put up the pic- 
 ture, he drops it on the ground. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 To him, OLY M P i A. 
 
 'Tv/us not well, Ofympia, 
 To break thus on my privacy. JViy ordi-is 
 Were ftri&ly given that none fliould now have entrance. 
 
 o L Y M p i A. 
 
 ] v\-ould not be deny'd ; and when you know 
 Why I am here, you will have Ctufe to blefs, 
 Not chide me tor the intrufion. 
 
 M E N T E V O L E. 
 
 Then be quick ; 
 
 For other cares and of more ferious inipirr, 
 Will prefenily demard me. Speak ycur 
 
 D 3 L Y M P I A-
 
 30 J U L I A : O R, T H E 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 My lips would give my purpofe litt'e grace, 
 When fiie, who lent me forward but to find you, 
 Can fpeak it for herfelf. I came with Julia. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 With Julia ? Do not mock me. 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 Turn your eyes 
 To yonder cyprefs, fee who there expects you. 
 
 M E N T E V OLE. 
 
 By all my hopes of happinefs 'tis Hie : 
 Like a descended angel there fhe {lands. 
 
 O L Y M P I A. 
 
 Herfelf indeed ; tbenhaile, conduft her hither. 
 
 1 [MENTEVOLE rujbes oaf* 
 
 SCENE ill. 
 
 OLYMPIA fees, and takes up the picture. 
 Ay, as I thought, her picture. On this face 
 His eyes were fed, when my approach furpris'd him. 
 Thou fair confumer of his pining foul, 
 O, thou delicious poifon, for a while, 
 Though he may grieve, let me withhold thee from him! 
 With what a blaze of wealth has he adorn'd it ! 
 What gemsaie here! I'll leave it "in her fight j 
 This fiient proof fhould more commend his fuir, 
 Tran hot-breath'd vows, whofe common vehemence 
 Their common violation quickly follows. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 To OLYMPIA, MENTEVOIE, leading in JOLIA. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Well mny you be furpiis'd, nor can you queftion, 
 When you behold me here, how deep the intereft 
 That urges me to feek you. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 To behold you, 
 (What c'tr the caufe) is fuch excels of blifs, 
 
 How,
 
 I T A L I A N L O V E R. 31 
 
 How, how {hall I pour out my enraptur'd tenfe, 
 How thank this condefceniion ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Good uiy lord, 
 
 The anxious bo Com, ill at eafe like mine, 
 Partakes no raptures. Calmnefs and attention, 
 (If I delerve /our thanks,) will better thank me. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Thou foul of all my paifions ! this fond bread 
 Is but the obedient ini'truiuent, whole chords, 
 As you think meet, found high, or fink to filence, 
 
 JULIA. 
 I have heard of y'our late outrage to Marcellus. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Has .he complain'd, and to a Lidy's ear ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Wrong not his well-tried courage. No ; the attendants 
 Saw all your furious geflures, heard your challenge; 
 And for prevention, to Oiympia ran, 
 To alarm us of the danger. 
 
 o L Y M p i A. , " - 
 
 He's conctal'd. 
 And has been fmce your parting. That confirms- it. 
 
 JULIA. 
 Wafle not the precious minutes in denial. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Fool that I was ! no kind concern for me, 
 The fafcty of Marcellus, made you feek me. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 And I avow the motive. Am I held, 
 Like thofe grim idols barbarous nations worfhip, 
 ' By cruel rites to be propitiated ? 
 Jf love prevail not, dreis'd in fmites and foftnefs, 
 Array'd in blood will the fell monfter churm me ? 
 No ; if you pri/e my peace, it you defire 
 I evermore fhou!d name Mentevole, 
 Or'fuffer him in thought, but with abhorrence, 
 Difmifs your caufelefs hate to Claudio's brother. 
 
 MENTEVOLE.
 
 32 J U L I A : O R, T H E 
 
 M E N T li V O L E. 
 
 Let him difinifs his love to Claudio's miftrefs. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Your own, imaginary, light fuggeftion. 
 
 M E N T E L O V r. 
 
 He boafts it, glories ia it. -Caulelefs hare ! 
 Caufelefs, to hate the envenom'd thing that flings me ? 
 Difrafcs curdle up his youthful blood, 
 And Har his fpeciou&oirttide! ' 
 
 J U L I A. 
 
 Watchful nrjgtls, 
 
 Keep him in charge, and o'er his gallant head 
 Spread their protstYing wings, to avert thy curies ! 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Ha I am I the;; 
 
 o i. Y M p i A. 
 Is this your promis'd patience ? 
 
 MtNTEVOLE. 
 
 What can I c!o ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 XV hat reafbn bids you do.' 
 Not to repent, but to commit a wrong, 
 Gives fhame's true crimlon to -the ingenuous cheek. 
 Afk his indulgence, and cont'ds your frenzy. 
 
 MENTE-VOLE. 
 
 The boy may think I fear him. 
 JULIA. 
 
 No, not fo. 
 
 What generous fpirit is rot flow to afcribe 
 Motives to others, which itfelf would Icorn ? 
 Are ycu alone too'migh'y to have err'd ? 
 Rather fufpeft, your piide revolts to own it ; 
 Acknowledge it, and then have caufe for pride, 
 And rife exalted by humility. 
 C( nrriiion is fair virtue's nieek-ey'd filter ; 
 Her drops can wafh offence to fleecy white, 
 Turning our fins to gracious interceifors. 
 The wilett fonaetimes may do wrong frompaffion ; 
 
 But
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 33 
 
 But confcious of that wrong, the ruffian only, 
 
 By bwal peifcver<ince, twice does wro::g : 
 
 IvJean pride ! fa lie principle ! true noncui kerns them. 
 
 MENTBVOLE. 
 It goes againft my nature's bent. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Indeed ! 
 
 Then hear me, hear this folemn prou-ftfttion : 
 If you perfift, by that benevolent puwer, 
 Whofe blefled beams avert from violence, 
 Whofe law forbids it > >-* a. 
 
 MENTEVOL E. 
 
 O, enough ; forbear : 
 Yes, you fhall be obey'd ; I will put on 
 The meek demeanour of repenting raflinefs ; 
 And to the foe i hate, thus bending, cry, 
 Forgive me, fince you will it. Yet remember, 
 1 thus degrade me in mine own efteem, 
 Only to rife in yours. Your liberal nature 
 Will give my free compliance its bed glofs. 
 It fhews your full dominion o'er my foul, 
 That joyfully prefers your leaft command, 
 Even to my honour, which I rifle to obey you. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 The a& befpeak itfelf. I muft remember, 
 My peace, or mifery, was in your pow er : 
 You chofe the gentler part, and made me happy. 
 
 M E N T E V O L E. 
 
 Tranfporting thought I behold, I fly to meet him. 
 The hour is come. Marcellus now expecls me. 
 Farewel ! my eyes, at variance with my tongue, 
 Still gaze, and cannot bear to lofe thy beauties. 
 
 [_Exit ME NT E VOLE. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 JULIA, OLYMPIA. 
 
 o L Y M P f A . 
 Indeed he loves you. 
 
 JULIA.
 
 34 JULIA: OR, THE 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 'Would to heaven he did not ! 
 It looks, methinks, like hard ingratitude, 
 To render aught for love, but equal love. 
 Efteeni, the bell uffe&ion I can offer, 
 Seems but a dull, unvalued counterpoise, 
 And pays the glowing ore with worthlefs lead. 
 Though all be little, to give all, is bounty. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 Enter, on an e/>/>o/ttejM(, MARCELLUS and MENT*- 
 
 VOtE. 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Enough, my lord. This fair acknowledgment 
 Has rais'd your juftice high in my efteem. 
 A foldier's honour can require no more ; 
 And fure, 'tis better, thus to join our hands, 
 Than try their ftrength in rude hoftility. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 I was your brother's friend ; and while-he liv'd, 
 Though the fame paflion that ftill fires my foul, 
 Then fiercely burn'd for this enchanting Julia j 
 Yet, from refpeft for his precedent claim, 
 And to her choice avow'd, within my breafl 
 I kept the painful fecret. He fo lov'd me, 
 The wound he could not heal, I would not fliew : 
 Then fure, full equally, from you, Marcellus, 
 New to her charms, at leaft 1 may expect 
 A like declining. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Good Mentevole, 
 Let's find fome fafer fubjedl. 
 
 M ENTEVOLE. 
 
 No, this only. 
 
 I cannot fpeak, or think, of aught but her : 
 She is my effcnce ; feeds, wskes, flecps, with me: 
 Is vital to me as the air I breathe. 
 
 But
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 35 
 
 But mark, I am compos'd ; no violence 
 
 Lives in my thoughts, or ilinll dif^race my tongue. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Then, left I move your temper, let me leave you. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 No, pr'ythee no, not thus unfatisfied. 
 
 I'll not contend, but her tranfcendent beauty, 
 
 Even at firft fight, muft ftrike the gazer's eye 
 
 With admiration, which -might groiv to love. 
 
 But is it poffible, one interview, 
 
 (for you but once have feen her) fhould fo root 
 
 Her image in your foul, that all your blifs, 
 
 Or future mifery, depends on her ? 
 
 M A'R C E L L U S. 
 
 Regard not me, but reafon for yotirfelf. 
 If all your faithful vows, your length of courtfliip, 
 Her father's favour, and the namelefs aids 
 Which time and opportunity -have furnifli'd, 
 Kaifenot your hopes above a rival's power; 
 Say, were it not more wife, and manly too, 
 Toroufe, and fhake off fucji a hard dominion ? 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 How cold you talk ? Good heaven ! I might as well 
 Refolve to change my nature ; bid my ear 
 See for my eye, or turn my blood to milk ; 
 New-ftamp my features, and new-mould my limbs ; 
 Make this loft flefli, that yields to every print, 
 Jmpaffive as thin air ; wade time and thought 
 On any wild impoflibility ; 
 As be the thirg I am, and ceafe to love her. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Then take, my lord, your courfe, while I fliall follow 
 The counfel which 1 offer. Once rejected, 
 No more to perfecute, where inoft I love, 
 I fliall retire, and mourn repulfe in filence. 
 
 MEN TEVOLE. 
 
 MEN TEVOLE. 
 
 So then, my lord, my fuit is perfection ? 
 
 M A R
 
 36 J U L I A j O R, T H E 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 I faid it not ; but fince you will fearch further, 
 I've heard a! moll as much. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 And who inform'd you ? 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 A lower tone, perhaps, may meet an anfwer. 
 
 MBNTEVOLE. 
 
 I iu ill be anfwcred. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Will! hot man, farewell! [g'-' n g- 
 
 M E N T E VOL E. 
 
 Come back. I'll anfwer for you. Your own pride ; ' 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Ha! have a care ! 
 
 M E N T K V O L E . 
 
 Your boyifh vanity ; 
 Your fond conceit of that impofing form ; 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 I'll bear no more ; this infolence and rudenefs 
 Have rous'd my rage, and thus I anfwer thee. 
 
 [They Jight . M E N T E V o L E is dif armed. 
 
 M E N T E V O L E. 
 
 My life is yours. Strike home. \fbeiuing his breajl. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 T-.-ke back .your fword ; 
 
 And when your peevilh fpleen next fwells within you, 
 Let thisdeferv'd rebuke fubdue your choler. 
 
 [Exit MARCELLUS. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 M'-NTEvotr., alone. 
 
 He triumphs every way. Vile baffled w r etch ! 
 Where fliall 1 hide my ignominious hend. 
 While love, remorfe, and rage, at on:e o'erwhelm me? 
 [Exit MENTEVCLE. 
 SCENE
 
 T A L I A N L O V E R. 37 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 A Chamber in Durazzo's Palace, 'with a Toilet, &c. 
 
 OLYMPIA, nuilh a pifture in her band ; NBR.INA 
 attending. 
 
 OLYMPIA. 
 
 The darter's pafs'd, and Julia fmiles again. 
 My brother, thy divining was too true ; 
 Her fears were not for thee. But now, to try 
 This new, thh i.ift expedient. Good Nerina, 
 Obferve this picture. This day, in his garden, 
 Mentevolc, my enamour'd brother, dropp'd it. 
 It is the lovely likenefs of thy lady. 
 1 leave it here. Should it efcape Wer view, 
 Find you feme means to bring it to her Notice. 
 If prodigality proclaim a pafiion, 
 The diadems of kings are here outlufter'd. 
 
 And yet f fear Ths mother of Marcellus : 
 
 Her eye looks cold upon me. I'll not meet her. 
 
 [OLY'MPIA bangs the pifiure en the frame of JULIA'S 
 drcjjing-glafs, and exit. NERINA retires. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 FULVIA, with a paper. 
 
 What can this mean ? They draw me here to infult me. 
 
 I aflc for this difconfoiate, this mourner, 
 
 And find her, where ? Why, with a fecond lover, 
 
 With young Mentevole. Her panting bofom 
 
 Cannot expetf his vifir, but explores 
 
 His chambers fecretly. O my poor fon ! 
 
 And could not all thy graces, all thy virtues, 
 
 One twelvemonth, keep a miftrefs faithful to thee f 
 
 The Indian pile, that, with the bridegroom dead, 
 
 In the fame blaze confumes his life-warm bride, 
 
 E Is
 
 3 8 J-U L I A: O R, THE 
 
 Is wild romance to our Italian ladies. 
 
 Who cheers our inconfolable in private ? 
 V-'hy, the kind fifter of Mentevole. 
 Then rumour, which I flander'd, told me trnth, 
 And this tells truth. Let me once more perufe it. 
 
 [reads. 
 
 If ytu refpeft thefafely of Marcel lus, 
 Prevent his <vifits to Durrazzo's daughter. 
 A favoured lover has her plighted faith , 
 U ho 'will not brofff: a rival. Ttuft this ivarninp. 
 And fee, the fair diilimulation comes, 
 Again to figh, to flatter and deceive me. 
 
 SCENE X. 
 To her, ] 
 
 'ULIA. 
 
 J U L I A. 
 
 Madam, forgive my anxiety : that paper, 
 
 I hope it brought you no diftrefsful tidings. 
 \Vhen your eye ran it o'er, your colour chang'd, 
 And a fad prefage inftant feiz'd my heart, 
 Fearful perhaps from weaknefs, more than reafofl. 
 
 F U L V I A. 
 
 I thank vou, no j the import is not new ; 
 It tells me, what the world has long be'.iev'd, 
 That women can diffemble, and are fickle. 
 
 JULIA. 
 But why choofe you for the rude confidence ? 
 
 F u L v i A. 
 I fear, there vas a reafon. 
 
 JULIA. 
 Parcon me ; 
 
 Perhaps I've been intrufive ; for that brow 
 Seems to reprove me, for a wiih to know, 
 What you think fit to hide. 
 
 F U L V 1 A. 
 
 My interefts, madam, 
 Muft henceforth be confin'd to my o\vn bread. 
 
 I hav,
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 39 
 
 1 have ro funfliine there ; and would not cloud 
 The cheerful pr-ofpe<5t of your coining joys 
 With iii-tiin'd forrow. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Have I joys to come ? 
 
 To mix my grief with yours; dejected, loft, 
 To keep o^e object in my" wounded mind ; 
 To hold difcourfe with his ideal foim ; 
 To make my prefent riare, my future hope, 
 Fears, willies, prayers, ill ftuciies of my life, 
 Butilaves .0 one afflicting memory ; 
 Thefe are my joys, -and who iliall envy them r 
 
 v u i, v i A. 
 
 Hateful hypocrify ! O ten times devil, [/*'* 
 
 When, to beguile, it wears an angel's outfide ! 
 
 [Turning from Julia, {he fees the piflure on tbe table. 
 Ha ! can I tt uft my fight ? What's this before me ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 What's this, indeed ? 
 
 F u L v i A. 
 
 It curdles up my blood 
 
 The very fame ; I know thefe precious gems, 
 Bought with fisch coil : theeaft was ranfack'd for them. 
 How came it here ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 By all my tears and forrows, 
 My murder'd Claudio, on the day we loft him, 
 Wore this around his neck. 
 
 F U L V 1 A. 
 
 He did, he did. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 He ihew'd it to me ; next his heart it hung 
 That fatal morning. By what means unknown, 
 What wond'rous magick I again behold it, 
 Confounds me with amazement. 
 
 K E R i N A. 
 
 Madam, hear n.e. 
 In part I can explain the myftery. 
 Olympia, but a little ere you enter'd, 
 
 E 2 Thus
 
 40 JULIA: OR, THE 
 
 Thus plac'd it OH the table, bade me mark it, 
 And fhould it chance to efcape my lady's eye, 
 Prefent it to her notice. In his garden, 
 This morn (fKe added) Lord Mentevole, 
 Her brother, dropp'd it. But I know no further. 
 
 r u L v i A. 
 Dropp'd by Mentevole ! his fitter faid fo ? 
 
 N E R I N A. 
 
 Madam, ihe did. 
 
 r UL v i A. [To JULIA. 
 
 Ha ! did you hear that tale ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Eternal providence! 'twill then be found ; 
 
 The hellifh deed be traced to its dark fource. 
 
 O true-divining inftinft ! now I know, 
 
 Why, at his fight, opprefs'd with chilling horrour, 
 
 Cold tremors crept through all my ftiivering frame ^ 
 
 Why faithful nature, flirinking, felt the alarm, 
 
 As if fome fatal deadly thing npproach'd me. 
 
 Hade, madam, hafte ! that clue (hall be our guide. 
 
 Yes, I fliall live to fee the black detection ; 
 
 The fecret villain's flume, blood fried for blood ; 
 
 While Claudio's fainted fpirir from above 
 
 Smiles to applaud, and urge the righteous juftice. 
 
 r u L v i A. 
 
 Can I bear this ! Such zei-1 is worthy of you, 
 It quite tranfports you. But firlt ar.fwer me. 
 How did Mentevole pofTefs this picture ? 
 
 j u L i A. 
 O, 'would I knew ! Hut let us fly this moment. 
 
 f U L V I A. 
 
 Did you not fecrelly, this n;oining, fte him? 
 Anfwer me quick. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 I did. Of that hereafter. 
 
 F U L V I A. 
 
 Hold. When a lover has a lady's pidure, 
 A favour'd lover too, though fhe fhould fwear, 
 
 Swear
 
 I T A L I A N L O V E R. 41 
 
 Swear deeply, till the hoft of heaven blufli for he*, 
 She's ignorant how he had it, O, to truft her, 
 Aflcs fuch a reach of blind credulity, 
 As turns belifrf to folly. . 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Your fierce looks, 
 
 This fudden anger, are fo ftrange to me, 
 I ftand like one juft ftartled from a dream, 
 And cannot, dare not think, I wake and hear you- 
 
 F u L v i A. 
 
 Then let me roufe you from your lethargy. 
 The flimfy tiffue of youi artifice 
 Is all unravell'd. By no doubtful proofs 
 I am confirm'd, your fondnefs for my fort, 
 Your tender care of me, your tears, diftraftions, 
 Your mourning weeds, (which now, 1 fee, are chang'd,} 
 Ay, arid your high-wrought rhapfody this moment, 
 Were all a publick oftentatious forrow, 
 Nought but an acted paflion, a ftage tranfport ; 
 And I, the fool who pitied you, your fcorn. 
 Do you now wake ? Now do you understand me ? 
 
 j u L i A. 
 
 Too well, too well. The peal of dreadful thunder 
 Will found rill death in my aftonifh'd ears. 
 O, ftnb me to the heart, dafh me to earth, 
 And trample my poor body in the dull j 
 Try every labonr'd, cunning cruelty, 
 That rage, revenge, or malice, e'er devifed, 
 Or was fuftain'd by woman's conftancy ; 
 I'll b;ar it all, I would rot flied one tear; 
 Would blefs you, think it mercy, to the pangs 
 Which wring my foul from every word you have utter'd, 
 
 F U L V I A. 
 
 A:iJ rmy the fiend v/ho vifits guiit i']<e thine, 
 1} my reproaches fail, or f he world sjuftice, 
 Supply a (harper foourge, and more arHicl thee! 
 
 J U L I A; 
 
 I thought the n'gour of niy fate acconipliih'd 
 By Claudio's death; fecure in one great woe, 
 Look'd forward with a fmile to all the ills 
 3
 
 42 J U L I A: OR, THE 
 
 Adverfifr'- '--"rfi: Vnath could pour upon me: 
 But you . .unuin 1 ' you have found the way, 
 To v/f:ivc luch new, fuch un<magin'd horrours I . 
 If there be any power, whofe melting eye 
 Sheds foft companion on us, may that power 
 Hear, and receive ray fervent fupplication j 
 Let me be mad, and lofe this fenfe of anguifn f 
 
 F u L v i A. 
 What can'ft thou hope from me, but rage and vengeance ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 No, nothing elfe, I have deferv'd them from thce. 
 
 F u L v i A. 
 
 I'll to the duke, the fenate (hall aflemble. 
 When this dumb evidence appears before them, 
 With all that chance has now reveal'd againft thee, 
 Think, when thou art fummon'd to their diead tribunal, 
 Will that fair race of innocence and uonder, 
 This wringing of thy hands, a few falfe tears, 
 Shake their ftern juitice ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 O, heaves pardon you ! 
 
 T U L V I A. 
 
 If you have prayers, referve them for yourfelf, 
 Your (late perhaps may need, them. 
 
 JULIA. {jkneding. 
 
 Turn, and hear me I 
 
 F U L V I A. 
 
 Kneel not to me. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 I kneel not for myfelf. 
 To thee I am as fpoilefs from oftence 
 As the foft deep of cradled infancy. 
 But when your cruelty has broke my hearf, 
 And funk me unrefenting to my grave, 
 If your miftaken rage givts way to reafon, 
 (As fure it will,) in thai calm, fearching hour, 
 When you fhall find how forely you have wrong'd me, 
 Wrons'd her. who lov'd you with a child's affc&ion, 
 
 Then
 
 ITALIAN LOVE R. 45 
 
 Then cenfure not your rafhnefs too fcverely j 
 Then try to reconcile your foul to peace, 
 And O, forgive yourfelf, as I forgive you. 
 
 SCENE XI. 
 To .them, DURAZZO. 
 
 DURAZZO. 
 
 How's this ? my daughter kneeling, and In tears ! 
 And anger glowing on the cheek of Fulvia ! 
 Rife, Julia, rife Madam, that ftern regard- - 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 O, fir, you muft not piiy, nor approach me ; 
 I dace not truft to nature or affection : 
 Your bread perhaps may turn to marble too. 
 Source of my life ! dear even as thee, my father, 
 Your Julia lov'd her : -See thefe bitter tears ; 
 With agonies like thefe am I requited. 
 
 DURAZZO. 
 
 A fury's brand muft fure have fear'd the breaflrj 
 That could give thee a pang, my joy ! my comfort l^~- 
 What hav you done ? \_Ta Fulria. 
 
 FULVIA. 
 
 Do you behold this picture? 
 Claudio my fon, the day the afljffin ttabb'd him, 
 Wore this deiefted bawble next his heart. 
 Mentevole, that weeping lady's lover, 
 This morning dropp'd it. Afkyou. how he had it, 
 Let that light woman, and her minion, anfwer. 
 
 DURAZZO. 
 
 And is that fcornful fingei for my daughter ? 
 Injurious 'as thou art 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 For pity, hold ! 
 
 I have enough ofmifery already, 
 Revil'd, upbraided, charg'd with monftrous guilt : 
 She knew hot what fhe laid, indeed 1 hope ib ; 
 
 But
 
 44. J U L I A.; O R T H E 
 
 But let me here fall lifelefs at her feet, 
 My heaving heart burft with its throbs before her, 
 Rather than hear jour tongue caft. back reproach, 
 To violate the reverence I fti!l owe her. 
 
 D u R A i z o. 
 Hear'ft thou, inhuman ? 
 
 F U L V I A. 
 
 Yes, with fcorn I hear her ; 
 That fyren's voice has loft the power to charm. 
 Why ftay I here to breathe the infectious air ? 
 May cnrfes reft on thefe devoted walls, 
 Till livid lightning to the centre fliake them ! 
 
 [Exit Fulvia. 
 
 SCENE XII. 
 D u R A z z o, and JULIA. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 Heaven be our guard ! What means fKe by that picture, 
 Mentevole, and thee ? 
 
 "j.u L i A. 
 I cannot fpeak it. 
 Pray, lead me hence. 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 Scarce have I power to aid thee. 
 JULIA. 
 
 O for a friendly draaght of long oblivion, 
 To freeze up every feeling faculty ! 
 Agairft calamity 1 fbive in vain; 
 Since thus each diftarrt g'eam of fluttering hope 
 Mocks with falfe Hgbr, or burits in ftornis upon me. 
 
 [Exeunt* 
 
 THE END OP THE THIRD ACT, 
 
 ACT
 
 i T A L I A N L O V E R. 45 
 
 A C T IV. S C E N E I. 
 
 A Chamber in Durazzo's Palace. 
 
 DURAZZO, MARCELLUS, and CAMILLO. 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 Niot To, not fo j deem me not loft to reafon ; 
 My bread is ever open to receive you. 
 Though Fulvia's fon, I hold you not allied 
 To Fulm's enmity, and violence. 
 Nay, were we foes, (which I jLould grieve to think,) 
 The qualities and virtue of Marcdlus 
 Could find no tongue more prompt in their report, 
 Than eld Durazzo';. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 My much honour'd lord, 
 Thefe friendly founds are cordials to my ear. 
 Soon as I heard my mother's frantick tale, 
 (Though tears and exclamations fcarce gave room 
 For her diitemper'd rage to tell the ftory,) 
 Such conflernation feiz'd me, as if earth 
 Convuls'd had yavvn'd at once beneath my feet 
 And livid fl.inies fhot upwards to confume me. 
 
 D t' R A 2 Z O. 
 
 Did I not fcorn to mate a woman's malice, 
 
 What vengeful fpunge, though fleep'd in Stygian gallj, 
 
 Could wipe away my deep-dy'd injuries ? 
 
 My houfe's ancient honour fet at nought ; 
 
 The little fpark of health, which, jufl rekindling, 
 
 Glow'd in vhe cheek of my dear innocent child, 
 
 And warm'd her father's hopes, rudely extinguifh'd ; 
 
 Her name that like a holy word was utter'd, 
 
 Grace and good will ftill ufbcring the found, 
 
 Caft for vile queftion to the public ftreets, 
 
 ''Midft fcunil cafuifts, and the lees of Genoa : 
 
 By my jirft rage, the far.dtitjr of virtue 
 
 Never fuftain'd fo grofs a profanation. 
 
 MAR-
 
 4> J U L I A : O R, T H E 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 With burning blufhes, as the ihame were mine, 
 And hooting crowds made me detifion's feoff, 
 1 own the juttice of a fa'her's anger. 
 Defcend, mild pitience, to her harrow'd bread ! 
 Whar fortitude can arm her feeling heart 
 Againil the rankling barb of this fell arrow ? 
 'Gainft galling taunts, 'gainil mortal accufations, 
 From lips whofe every found fhould footh and blefe her ? 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 The malice of a foe may bccndur'd ; 
 But friend (hip's ft.ib, the very plnnk we cling to 
 Turn'd to a barbarous engine for deftrution ! 
 And yet her gentle, her forgiving nature 
 Unwillingly permits my juft reproach ; 
 She checks my indignation, by rememb'ring. 
 How kind, how tender, Fulvia once was to her j 
 And how the ex-i'.ed virtues of her foul 
 Tranfcend her frailties, and efface this error. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 Enter an Officer, 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 Be on your guard, my lord ; we have certain notice,. 
 The rabble ftir'd up by fome ftrange report, 
 Muttering from every quarter are affembled, 
 And threaten infult here. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 I thank you, fir. 
 
 Let them come on, we are-prepar'd to meet them. 
 The love of tumult, and not zeal for juftice, 
 Is their great principle. What think you now ? 
 
 [Exit Officer. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 The wretch arraign'd, whofe gfping expectation 
 Hangs on the awful paufe that dooms or faves him, 
 Feels peace and bli's to what my breaft endures, 
 Till, proftrate at her feet, I clear my honour, 
 My reafon, and each fpark of manhood in me, 
 
 From
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 47 
 
 From viie concurrence in this monftrous outrage, 
 'i his inftant lead me to her. 
 
 C A M I L L O. 
 
 Hold, Marcellus. 
 
 We rr.uft not give too loofe a rein to pafllon, 
 At fuch a tiembiing crifis. Good my lord, [to Durazzo. 
 To check the fliameful licence, and difofder, " 
 Which hourly fpread more wide by our inaction, 
 One way at leaft is plain. 
 
 DURAZZO. 
 
 My mind's diftracled, 
 
 I fhould before have told you our refolves; 
 
 But my vex'd fpirit this way finds relief, 
 
 And vents itfelf in railing. But 'tis thus. 
 
 The duke, (and much I'm bound to thank his grace.) 
 
 Though urg'd to every harfh extremity 
 
 By that fierce woman, kindly has detenmn'd 
 
 To take the milder courfe. Himfelf in perfon, 
 
 When I appoint the hour, will vifit us. 
 
 He knows already every circuinftance, 
 
 In its true (late, nor heeds our foe's perverfion ; 
 
 And refting fo, with horrour I mud own, 
 
 Sufpicion has its mark. 
 
 CAM I L L O. 
 
 Mentevole. 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 My favour to that lord, his daily boaft, 
 The prattle of thh bufy babbling city. 
 Pregnant and pofitive in fl irderous falfehoods, 
 The picture dropp'd by hiiD, ;ind found with Julia, 
 But nioft, her f-c;et meeting him this morning, 
 (Which, till explain'cT, gives colour ro (uggeftion, 
 Have fo perverfely wound us in the fi-rare ; 
 We (land, like him, expos'd the common burt 
 For ev'ry fhaft of venom'd calumny. 
 
 MARC-:LLUS. 
 
 Heavens, can it be f That angel ! fhe exnos'd 
 To bear the prying eye, the infidious queftion, 
 Of proud, unfeeling, quaint au'hority ; 
 Eacla fauntering varlet, worrhlefs of the lionour 
 
 To
 
 48 JULIA: OR, THE 
 
 To ftrew her paths with rufhes, unabafti'd 
 *Gaze on the emotions of her lovely face, 
 And find a heighten'd zeft in her confufion ! 
 I will not trull my felt to wear my fword, 
 Left, wirh a fiery inftinft, from my fide 
 It ftart at once, and in their blood avenge her. 
 
 C A M I L L O. 
 
 Reafon and jufticeare her Left avengers. 
 Beralmthen, good Marcellus : hear the means. 
 Juft now, an order iflued from the ftate, 
 That none ftiould pafs the city's fuburb gates, 
 Nor veflel leave the port, till the duke's licence 
 Permits the ufual egrefs. This, though pointed 
 Bui at Mentevole, being genera], 
 Wounds not his pride ; nor can awake fufpicion. 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 I fear the wife ^Yecaution was in vain ; 
 Sufpicion will awake, when confcience fleeps not. 
 And his but I am to blame ; appearances 
 Are indexes full oft which point to error. 
 
 c A M i L L o. 
 
 His fifter, as we learn, has fought a convent, 
 And will no more be found. 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 I pity her, 
 
 Poor wretch ! unconfcioufly, the inftrument 
 To fpeed perhaps a brother's infamy : 
 But all fhe knew already is divulg'd. 
 Keep eye, Camillo, on Mentevole. 
 For you, dear youth, be fure, no mean miftruft 
 Unworthy my efteerrr, and your high honour, 
 Can ever harbour here. 
 
 MA RCELLUS. 
 
 Yet, O, Durazzo, 
 
 I feel but half affur'd. An ugly fliame, 
 Chilling the native freedom of my fpirit, 
 Hangs on me, loads me, drags me to the ground. 
 Nor can i make the vile dejection off, 
 Till fweeter than the gale from new-born flowers ; 
 
 Her
 
 I T A L I A N L O V E R. 49 
 
 Her balmy lips breathe peace into my bofotn. 
 Will you not lead me to her ? 
 
 D u R A z i o. 
 
 Yes, Marcellus, 
 
 Deplore with me the ruins of a mind 
 Where nature lavifti'd every grace and virtue, 
 To make misfortunes ftill more eminent. 
 Come then, let's on. Without there ? [Enter Serv.j Is 
 
 my daughter 
 Still in her chamber ? 
 
 s E R v A N T. 
 
 She but now was feen, 
 Without attendants, near the orange grove. 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 Ere we return here, (hould the duke arrive, 
 You'll find us near the grove. Now 1 attend you. [to MAR. 
 
 s E R v A N T. 
 
 My lord, the ftranger we this morn admitted. 
 Waits in the outward chamber. If your leifure 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 1 had forgot. Good man ! yes, bid him enrer. 
 Marcellus, for a moment, pardon me. [Exit Serv. 
 
 (Exeunt MARCELLUS rtm/^AMiLLO. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 D u R A z z o, alone'. 
 
 He has known better days ; and, to my thought. 
 No cares, however near us, can excufe 
 Our hard negledt of humble miftry. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 To DURAZZO, MANOA enters with bumility, 
 
 M A N o A. 
 I am too bold. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 No, worthy M noaj 
 Pride, may intrude, but not the utifort mate. 
 
 F But
 
 5 JULIA: OR, THE 
 
 But how ? Thy cheeks are pale ; thy ftartled ey 
 Looks fearfully around. What ludden terrour 
 Shake* thus thy manhood ? 
 
 M A N o A. 
 
 O, my gracious lord, 
 In vain I hoped, your pity and protection 
 Might be ftretch'd forth to fcreen me from my foes. 
 The cruel vigilance of fate has found me ; 
 I am difcover'd, loft. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 I trutl, not fo. 
 
 M A N A. 
 
 A dreadful order is but now gone forth, 
 To clofe the port up, and the city gates. 
 It muft be meant 'gainft me ; to hem me in, 
 And yield my life to cruel men who hate me. 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 Difmifs that fear, I know the caufe too well j 
 Tisdiftant far from thee. 
 
 M A N O A. 
 
 Indeed ? 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 Mod fure. 
 
 M A N A. 
 
 I breathe again. May every bleffing crown you ! 
 
 D U R A Z Z 0. 
 
 I know your innocence, and will not fail 
 
 To imprefs the duke and fenate in vour favour. 
 
 Nor can 1 think but for foine fpecial end 
 
 A providence fo vifible pre^erv'd you. 
 
 Mean time, take comfort lo you, and reft here, 
 
 Secure ; thefe walls fhall be your fantluary. 
 
 M A N O A. 
 
 O, ever bounteous to the opprefs'd and wretched, 
 1 he ibength of our forefathers be your fhu Id ! 
 And, for this manna to my famifh'd hopes, 
 When full of age and honours you lie down, 
 f roted your generation to time's end. [Exit MA NO A. 
 
 BUKAZZO,
 
 ITALIAN LOVE R- 51 
 
 U R A Z Z, 0. 
 
 Who waits? [Enter Serv.j Obferve that ftranger with 
 
 refpeft, 
 And fee thac none moleft bim. [Exit Serv.] O, Men- 
 
 tevo'e ! 
 
 It muft be fo. A thoufand diftant hints, 
 Like meteors glancing through a dufky fky, 
 That nothing fhew diftmcHy , crofs my biain. 
 Butfoon the dim horizon will be clear, 
 And truth's bright ray difpel the croubtful twilfght. 
 
 [Exit DUKAZZO. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 The Garden of DURAZZO'S Palace. 
 
 MENTEVOLE, alone. A whifllt Is heard. 
 Hark ! that's my fignal. 1 hen {he's near the grove : 
 And fee, a woman's form. Bo firm, my heart! 
 No fluttering now. Let dire necefluy 
 (That in itfelf -contains aU arguments) 
 Fix its itrorig fiat on my refolunon, 
 And cancel nature's fear. She muft be mine. 
 I have buffetred beyond the midway flood j 
 Nor fhal! my finews ilvink fo near the ilioie. 
 33ut come the word, 'gainfl fliame nn<) dilappoinfment, 
 Thou fliarp, but^ friendly leech, I will apply thee. 
 
 [He druius a abgFfK, wbubbe holds up, and returns 
 
 <ig?iin to bis lofim. 
 Soft, fofi ; from hence, unit-en I may obferve her. 
 
 [rettrtt. 
 
 En'er JULIA. 
 
 No, I mud ftilt endure ; for denth is proud, 
 Owes none obedience ; nor wild come when fummon'fl : 
 The happy who avoid him, he puifues ; 
 And wiih malignant tiitimph loves to enter, 
 
 Where dreams of long fecutity and joy 
 Give ten-fold ten*urs to the grim intruder. 
 To thee I ftretch my amis, thee I invoice, 
 For in thy cold and leaden grafo there^ Ha ! 
 
 f/e eing MENTEVOLE, Jle /I art; . 
 
 F 2 " M.EN- TEVOLL.
 
 $t J .U L I A : O R, T H E 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Why ftart you; madam ? Have a few /hort hoars 
 
 So^changjd the man you fought, nay, kinder ftill, 
 
 With gentle interceffion footh'd, and won 
 
 To mercy for a rival, that a ftrpenr 
 
 Rifing on mortal fpires to fting your life, 
 
 Could not excite more horrcur thai, his prtfence ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Thou art, indeed, a ferpent, coiFd for mifchief ; 
 To dart out on the unwary, drink his blood, 
 And ilmk again to thy daik luiking place. 
 Why art thou here ? 
 
 MENTtVOLE. 
 
 To talk to thee of love, 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Of murder rather. Hnce ! \ging> 
 
 U E N T E V O I, r. 
 
 1 mutt detain you. [btfding btr, 
 A moment is not long. And can thy wifdom, 
 For fuch a feather, for one light fimnife, 
 That piclure, rafWy deem nie cap;il>le 
 Of fhedding huraun blood, nay, a friend's blood ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Of every criow I deem thee capable : 
 Thy furious temper knows no facred bond | 
 Death on thyfelf, even kneeling at my feet, 
 Thou haft vow'd with friutick oaths. O, patient hea- 
 ven J 
 
 Why did not fire from yon infulted (ky 
 Confume him quick, ere his pernicious rage 
 Hid piung'd me in this gujph .of wretchednefs? 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 I am fo clear from any confcious taint, 
 
 On that foul clmge, 1 would not walle a moment 
 
 To purge nie of fo grofs a villainy. 
 
 What ftate, what fex, what excellence of mind, 
 
 E'er found an armour againft calumny? 
 
 Give the mo:r monftrous flander but a birth. 
 
 Folly fliall owji, and malice cheriili it. 
 
 It
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 53. 
 
 It moves but my contempt. Confider this, 
 Art not thou too accus'd ? thy fpotlefs felf, 
 Alike cali'd criminal ? by what ? by imdr:efs. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 I tha:ik thee, yes. Thy moft unwelcome lov, 
 Like fome contagious vapour breath'd upon me, 
 Has made Hie loathfome to the public view ; 
 The perfecution of thy hateful vows, 
 That firrt difturb'd my peace, now blafts my honour, 
 1 {tand a poor, defam'd, fufpefted creature: 
 The eyes, whofe gentle pity balm'd my forrows, 
 Now turn their beams with indignation on me i 
 And thou the caufe of all. 
 
 MENTEVOLB, 
 
 You hate me then ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Hate thee! the term's too weak. 'Tis vital horrour :. 
 The helplefs dove views not the ravening kite, 
 Wirh fuch inftindive dread, and deteftation. 
 The principle by which we Hart from deaih, 
 Crave needful food, nature's original print 
 To fhun our evil, and purfue our good, 
 By reafon llrengthen'd with increafing age, 
 Are not fo mix d, and general through my frame. 
 Hence from my eyes ! Thy fight is deadly to me. 
 
 M E N T E V O L F. 
 
 O, thou unthankful beauty ! think a little, 
 How envy'd, but for thee, had been my lot: 
 My youth had glided down life's eafy ftream, 
 Wirh every fail out-fpread for every pleaiure. 
 But fince the hour I faw thy fatal charms, 
 My bofom has been he'l. How I have lov'd, 
 All my neglected duties of the world, 
 Friends, parents, intereft, country, all forgotten. 
 Cry out againfl me ; now I count the exchange, 
 And find all barter'd for thy hate and fcorn. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Dar'fl thou upbraid me, or aiTume a pt.ldc 
 Even from the homely meannefsof thy foul, 
 
 F .3 Thj
 
 54 JULIA: OR, THE 
 
 Thy long ungenerous hwportunity ? 
 
 Mere fenfual love, contented with the outfide ? 
 
 The pure, exalted, incorporeal flame, 
 
 Fann'd not by fympathy's foft breath, expires. 
 
 I never gave thee hope, no, not a look, 
 
 Thy vani'ty could conftrue into kindnefs. 
 
 I play'd no hypocrite ; my heart at once 
 
 Diffus'd its honeft dictates to my eyes ; 
 
 They told thee my nverfion, my difdain ; 
 
 And were this air the laft 1 flxould refpire, 
 
 Here, in the face of heaven, my tongue confirms them. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 eloquence of hatred ! noble candour ! 
 
 1 am thy fool no more, my doubts are vanifli'd. 
 Thou haft not Left in all my fwelling veins, 
 
 Ore cold compunctious drop, to chill my purpofe : 
 The lover fcorn'd, the man now roufes here. 
 T/'urk me, ungrateful .' 
 
 JULIA. 
 Ha ! what means the traitor ? {fi<k. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 This garden leads to mine; the pafTages 
 Are all fecur'd. A ready piieft within 
 Waits to unite us ; therefore yield at once ; 
 Vain is refiftance. If I raife my voice, 
 F*our faithful flaves behind yon thicket lodg'd, 
 Will bear thee off. 
 
 JULIA, 
 
 Am 1 betray'd thus vilely ? 
 
 MEN'TEVQLB- 
 
 Look round, no aid is near thee. Thou art mine: 
 All thy rel,uc~Unt beauries are my fpoil, 
 And, won by wit, fh ill be enjoyed at will. 
 Come ; nay, no ftrtfe. 
 
 JULIA. {knteling. 
 
 O, give rat inftant dtath ! 
 Sec, at your feet 1 fall. . 
 
 ME NTEVOLE. 
 
 For worlds on worlds, 
 
 I would
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 55 
 
 I would not hurt thy charms. My- eyes, Kiy foul, 
 Are not fo dear to me. 
 
 JULIA. 
 Satiate thy rage ; 
 
 With new-invented cruelty deface* me ; 
 I will but fmile at the uplifted fteel, 
 And blefs you while you kill me. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Have a care ! 
 
 I mean thee no difnonour ; but tiiefe druggies, 
 That heaving bofom, thofe refiftlefs beams t 
 Darting their fubtife-heat through all my frame, 
 May fire my fenfes to fo wild a tumult, 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 O, fatal thought ! I will choak in my breath ; 
 Fall lifelefs here. Is there no pitying power ? 
 Are prayers in vain above ? 
 
 ME NT EVOLE. 
 
 As empty air. 
 
 Love only wakes, for he infpires my ardour. 
 O, fond reluctance ! muft I call for aid ? 
 No, gently thus [ft 09 / 1 *^ to ra -'f e her, in the ftritg- 
 gle, the dagger falls from his breujl, which jk* 
 feizes injlantly, and rifts* 
 JULIA. 
 
 Ha ! was it fent from heaven ? 
 Lr>, thine own dagger. See, I grafp it ftrongly : 
 Now, monfter, I defy thee. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Plagues ! coniufion ! 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 The righteous guardian of the innocent 
 
 Was look'd from yon bright firmament to earth, 
 
 And fends this timely fuccciur. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Meddling demons, 
 
 In black confed'racy combin'd againft me, 
 Turn all my engines to their own dtltrudtJon. 
 Yet hear with patience 
 
 JULIA.
 
 56 JULIA: OR, THE 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 If thou dar'ft approach me, 
 Stir but thy foot, or call thy bafe affbciates, 
 Swift as the ray that darts from yonder orb, 
 (1 feel the artery here,) this friendly point 
 Shall pierce my heart, and, as death's fhades clofe 
 
 round me, 
 I'll blefs the night which fhuts thee out for e"ver. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Obdurate as thou art, alas, my dotage 
 
 Would ftill preferve thee ; and implores ther, pardon 
 
 The mad attempt by defperation prompted. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Sunk to theloweft in my efteem before, 
 Lower thou could'ft not fall. Degrading guilt, 
 How mean, how ab'jeft, are the foub which own thee ! 
 How vile thy thraldom! Seethe baffled ruffian, 
 Though bravoes lurk all round to abet his fury, 
 Aba/h'd, and pale, before an injur'd woman. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 I muft endure it all j perfidious foitune ! 
 
 j u i. i A. 
 
 Butlo, my father and Marcellus near. 
 Keep thy dark lecret, for i will not roufe 
 Their indignation to demand thy life, 
 And fnntch the forfejt from impending juftice : 
 Thou {hould'ft not die fo nobly. Hence ! begone ! 
 
 [JunA throws do<wn the dagger , and exit. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 MENTEVOLE, a/OHf. 
 
 Again I grafp thee, faithlefs inftrument ! 
 
 [takes up the dagger^ 
 
 Revenge, that lateft funfliine of the accurs'd, 
 If I mult perirti, Hill may gild my downfall. [Exit. 
 
 END OF THE FOURTH ACT. 
 
 ACT
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 
 A C T V. S C E N E I. 
 
 A Chamber in Durazzo's Palace. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 'Tis true, too true $ my aftojiifli'd eyes beheld it. 
 The duke is come, is in the hall this inllaiit ; 
 And (flr<ime to Genoifr) armed guards ate polled, 
 To fave this palace from the people's outrage. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 O, if my prayers have any power to move you, . 
 Or, if you would not add to my diftiefs, 
 (Moft fure you cannot mean it,) I implore you, 
 Wide, aa if fpotted plagues encoinp ifs'd me 
 Avoid me, fly me, in fierce Fulvia'i pretence. 
 
 MAXCELLUS. 
 
 With joy, in nil but this, I would obey you. 
 
 Shall I retire, and feem to abet a cutife, 
 
 By tame neutrality, and timorous filvnce, 
 
 Which, but o think of, chills my heart's wnrm blood, 
 
 And drives my fober fenfe to ,wiid nmaaiement ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Think then what I feel here! yet, O, remember 
 She h .is a parent's claim to your lefpeft | 
 And how I lov'd her, heavea that knows cnn witnefs I 
 In public tu confront her, might enkindle 
 Her rage to mndnefs. Has /he not accm'd me 
 (O, that I could forget it !) of fuch crimes, 
 As calumny's foul lips might flu ink to utter ? 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Her's 5s the fhame, but our's, alas, the anguifli, 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Stung thus to frenzy, fhe would hurl on me 
 Your dilobedience ; all her houfe's woe 
 Impute to me alone, unhappy me ; 
 
 While
 
 58 JULIA: OR, THE 
 
 While trembling, finking, I could but oppofe 
 The feeble fliield of innocence ana tears. 
 No, juflice mint for once give way to duty. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 O, do not freeze me with fo cold a word ; 
 Nor wrong the ardours of my glowing bofom. 
 
 J V L I A. 
 
 The great difpofer of events on earth, 
 For foine un^archable, myfterious end, 
 Has pleas'd ro mark me for adverfity : 
 Wirh conttarcy unlhaken, my fun foul 
 Shall meet the black fucceffion of my fates. 
 When the full llorm has emp'ied all its fury, 
 This lhatter'd bark may fink at length to peace j 
 And the iaft wave that rolls the welcome death, 
 Bury my much-wrong'd name in cold oblivion. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 What eye that with delight has gaz'd on beauty j 
 What ear that e'er was ravifh'd with fweet founds ; 
 Who that has fcnfe and foul to fetl perfection, 
 And witnefs'd thy unrivall'd excellence ; 
 Can let thee be forgotten ? Hear, O, hear me ! 
 1 can no more fupprefs my burning paflion j 
 It will luve way My fate is in thy breath, 
 And all my enamour'd foui, enfkv'd, adores thee. 
 
 j t) L i A. 
 Marcellus ! 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Ha ! that cold averted brow, 
 Prefumptuous man f befpeaks fhy doom too plainly. 
 
 JULIA. 
 Is this an liour for love ? 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 At every hour, 
 
 (Rnchan ting as thou art) thy eyes command it. 
 Thus on my knee I feize the bled occafion, 
 To tell thee all thy wond'rous charms infpire. 
 Though ages might glide by, ere half was utter'd. 
 
 JULIA.
 
 ITALIAN LOVER, 59 
 
 J U L I A. ' 
 
 There is an aweful witnefs of this fcene,' 
 
 For everprefent here, who hovers round me. 
 
 Through the ftill void I hear a folemn voice $ 
 
 On his pale lips the unwilling accents hang : 
 
 Our vows, he cries, were regifter'd above ; 
 
 For thee my breaft was pierc'd ; fee this red wound, 
 
 Nor lofe the memory in a brother's arms. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 What canft thoti mein ? Why do thy lovely eyes 
 Thus wafte their beams-en air ? O, turn them here, 
 To warm my breaft, and light up ectlacy ! 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 May ghnftly fpefhes deck my bridal couch, 
 Hemlock and poifonous weeds be ftrew'd for flowers, 
 The nuptial torch lea tier defpair and death, 
 And muttcr'd curfesblaft the unhallow'd rite, 
 If my falfe hand receive another love, 
 Or my frail heart forget its early paifion ! 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 O, fatal found ! my inaufpicious fighs 
 
 Awake no gentle fympathy for me ; 
 
 Hut fan the flame for a dead rival's afhes. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 All the mod: tender inrereft can infpire, 
 Soft fiientlfliip, and an anxious fitter's kindnefs, 
 Unafk'd I offer ; but of love no more : 
 The object, and the paflion died with him. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Too near, and too remote. It cannot he : 
 For, O, 'tis lingering torment, hourly death, 
 To touch the cup might quench our fever's thifft, 
 And know we mud not tafle it. Angels guard you ! 
 Faiewtrll ! Let chance direct my wandering way ; 
 The world, without thce, has no choice for me. 
 
 [Exit MARCELLUS. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 JULIA, alone. 
 
 Moft brave, moft generous, and by me undone ! 
 Judge of the fecret heart, what unknown fin 
 
 I Did
 
 6 .. JULIA:- OR, THE 
 
 Did I commit, that fate ftands ready arm'd, 
 
 To vifit all whofe fate is dear to me ? 
 
 Take me, O, take me, to thy wifh'd-for reft, 
 
 And leave mankind to their own deftiny ! [Exit. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 A magnificent Hall in Durazzo's Palace. 'The Duke of 
 Genoa, 'with Guards and other Attendants in the 
 center ; Fulvia, ffc. on one fide ; Durazzo. Camil- 
 lo, and Julia, <wjth their Attendants, en the 
 other. 
 
 FULVIA. 
 
 I have obey'd the fummons of your grace. 
 
 Yet when 1 fee the feat of juftice chang'd 
 
 From the grave bench, where once rtie us'd to frown, 
 
 Even to the chambers of my adverfaries, 
 
 I look for fuch an ifTue, as hereafter 
 
 Will make this novelty no precedent ; 
 
 But to be fliun'd, and noted for the abufe. 
 
 DUKE. 
 
 The fanctity of juftice is the heart 
 Of him who judges ; place makes no diftinftion. 
 And when the veil of paffion is remov'd, 
 When with clear eyes you fee the good we mean you, 
 Yourfelf, i know, will thank- us for this courfe ; 
 And own our fwerving from the common form 
 Was kind to all concern'd. 
 
 F U I, V I A. 
 
 May ( it prove fo ! 
 JULIA. 
 
 You fte me here, brought for fo ftrange a caufe. 
 1 can but with aflonifhment look round, 
 Nor know I whom to oppofe, er what to afifwer. 
 'Tis hard to make my affliaion my offence ; 
 And the black deed which faddens all mv days, 
 The fource, the bittor fource of every forrow, 
 The ground to load me with reproach and fliame. 
 Yet here am I accus'd, I cannot tpeak it.. 
 Accus'd of what? To fay, I am innocent, 
 
 Would
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 6t 
 
 Would be fuch mean, fuch bafe indignity 
 To the great fpirit of my exalted love, 
 I'd rather burft with the proud fenfe of fcorn, 
 And leave my filence to your word furmife, 
 Than utter fuch a word. 
 
 DUKE. 
 
 ! 'tis too much. 
 
 D U R A Z 2 0. 
 
 You are appris'd, my lord, with what intent 
 My daughter fecretly this morning fought 
 A meeting with Mentevole ? 
 
 DUKE. 
 
 1 know it ; 
 And grieve to find fo gentle an intent 
 
 Has met fuch hard conftru&ion from good Fulvia. 
 
 F u L v i A. 
 
 Referve, my lord, your pity till we aflc it, 
 And counfel ignorance. We know our purpofe. 
 
 DUKE. 
 
 As we our duty. And behold the man 
 
 Firll in our prefent fearch. [lakes bis ftai. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 Enter MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Know you, my lord, 
 Why we aflemble here ? 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Yes. Clamour's throat 
 Hasroar'd it in our ftreets. I pafs'd along 
 Through files of obloquy. Our fapient rabble 
 Rererfe the order of the magiftracy, 
 And, ere they hear, condemn us. 
 
 DUKE. 
 
 Then, my lord. 
 
 As you regard your honour, and your life, 
 Touch'd by fufpicion to the quick, this inftant 
 Account for your pofleiTion of that pi&ure. 
 That lady there, dead Claudio's mother, fwears, 
 
 G It
 
 62 JULIA: OR, THE 
 
 It was her fon's, and worn around his neck 
 
 The day he difappear'd. Behold, do you know it ? 
 
 Do you allow you dropp'd it ? 
 
 M E N T E V O L E. 
 
 Yes ; but not 
 
 That it was Claudio's. Yet, I cannot wonder, 
 Two objects fo alike, fhould feem the fame. 
 
 r u L v I A. 
 Should feem the fame ! 
 
 D U K E. 
 
 Have patience, gentle lady. 
 
 M E N T E-V O L E. 
 
 I fay, fhouldy?m ; for it is barely feeming. 
 
 From that which Claudio own'd (the Srtift'sboaft,) 
 
 Myfelf, not. meanly in the fcience Ikill'd, 
 
 Painted this picture ; love, my pencil's guide ; 
 
 And, from the image in my heart engrav'J, 
 
 Aflifted by the model, fuch I made it, 
 
 That not the mod difcerning, niceft eye 
 
 From the firft beauteous draught could know that copy. 
 
 F U L V I A. 
 
 And had you fkill to paint thofe jewels too, 
 Thofe jewels in the round ? their hue and luftre 
 So fingular, and bright ? by every power, 
 Thefe were my fon's. 
 
 M E N T E V O L E. 
 
 No. Give me hearing, madam; 
 Thofe too I purchas'd from the very merchant 
 Who furnifli'd Claudio. All who hear me, know 
 The name of Manoa ; his fervices 
 To this ungrateful {hue j his flight, his death ; 
 Which 1 lament, fince living, he could witnefs, 
 And ftrike you dumb, that by my fpecial order 
 He chofe thefe precious gems, in form and colour 
 So like to Claudio's, none could mark diftin&ion. 
 To pay their value, my eftate was ftrain'd ; 
 But had their eftimation been twice doubled, 
 A crown imperial deem'd the mighty price, 
 Kather than yield him preference in aught 
 
 Might
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 65 
 
 Might feem a teit of my extravagant love, 
 I would have grafp'd at it ; and fo remain'd 
 The ruin'd, happy lord of that Cole tieafure. 
 Now learn from hence, how vvifdom (hould demur 
 To found a fentence on appearances. 
 Your grace is fatisfied, \_Here Durazzo "jc!riffier& 
 Camiilo, ivbo gtes out, 
 
 DUKE. 
 
 I own to me, 
 
 (No proof appeiriiisj to the contrary,) 
 Jf this be fo, your honour feems acquitted. 
 
 F U L V I A. 
 
 Bar not to me. O, undifcerning lord ! 
 Is this your inquifi.ljon, this you; juftice? 
 I am not fatisfied ; my heart rtill tells me, 
 That piftuie was my fan's; fo reafon tells me ;- 
 Nor fhould a voucher from the yawning grave 
 Shake my conviction. That good Manaa 
 Dkl fell thefe jewels to my fhughter'd fon ; 
 And he, 'tis true, conveniently is dead : 
 But -he had heirs and kindred ; furnmon them ; 
 A treafure fuch as this, could not be fold 
 Without their knowledge j inrwnriy convene them, 
 And al through fhame, as if you fought for tiuth ; 
 Elfc, your grave robes will be the jell of boys, 
 And my fon's blood will cry till death againit you. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Do not fuppofe I feoff at this grave prefence, 
 When thus I fmile in my fecurity. 
 Produce fuch witnefles. what could they prove ? 
 Their ignorance perhaps in what you afk them ; 
 But we have clear and pofitive laws to guard us. 
 
 JULIA, 
 
 So long I have faid little, fearful ever 
 To give offence, where all my care has been 
 To inanifeit refpect, efteem, and honour, 
 Even with a daughter's duteous humblenefs. 
 But thus much let me add : I here difclaim 
 ( As moft abhorrent to my thoughts, and nature,) 
 All common inteieft, union, and accord, 
 
 G 2 With
 
 64 JULIA: OR, THE 
 
 With him, for whom I fuffer in the cenfure 
 Of that ungentle lady } and believe, 
 Firmly, like her, that pidure was her fon's, 
 And there, before you, ihnds his murderer. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Why ftay I here? My lord, it" you have power 
 To give me reparation for the ftain 
 Caft on ray honour by tin's foolifh procefs, 
 Pronounce it ftraight j if not, thus I withdraw 
 From thofe vex'd eyes which gaze with fury on me. 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 Soft you a while ; for lo you, who comes here, 
 Even toyour'wiib, to make all clear for you. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 Re-enter CAMir.Le, leading in MA NO A. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. \Jlartin%. 
 
 Swallow me, earth ! he lives. But I muft brave it. 
 
 DUKE. [. r 'f in ' 
 
 Ha ! can I truft my fenfes ? Manoa ! 
 
 n u R A z z o. 
 The fame, my lord, and by no miracle, 
 
 D u K j-:. 
 
 Yet things fo ftrnnge are next to miracles, 
 And his appe-trance fucli. We thought him dead. 
 This is beyond your hopes. [To MENT t VOLE 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 O, much beyond them. 
 All curfes of his nation light upon him ! [afiJe. 
 
 j u L r A. 
 
 The villain's cheek turns pale, his fate has found him. 
 
 \_afule. 
 D U K E. 
 
 Surprife to fee you here, no way abates [/o MANOA. 
 Our pleafure at your welfare. Blufhing deeply, 
 We own the ftate has wrong'd you, but foon purpose 
 To give you full redrefs. 
 
 MANOA.
 
 IT ALIAN LOVER. 65 
 
 MAN A. 
 
 My humbleft rfianks. 
 
 DUKE. [takes bis f fat 
 
 At prefent we muft fet a fide that care 
 For one which now employs m. No more thanks, 
 V/e yet deferve them not. Come nearer ftill ; 
 
 [gives MA NO A the pifiure. 
 Take this, examine it. Do you remember 
 (Obferve them well) the jewels round that picture ? 
 
 M A N o A. 
 
 Moft Cure, my lord ; they are by no means common .j 
 But all, indeed, moft rare and fingular. 
 
 DUKE 
 
 They once were yours. Who was their purchafer ? 
 
 M A N O A. 
 
 A noble youth, by whofe untimely death 
 
 Genoa has loft her brightest ornament. 
 
 Even in the depth of my own m'yfery, 
 
 My heart dropp'd blood to hear the fate of Claudio, 
 
 DUKE. 
 
 Did you at any time, (think, ere you anfwer,) 
 Procure for any other purchafer 
 Jewels like thefe ? 
 
 M A N o A. 
 Never, my Lord. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Out, dotard J 
 
 Thy miferies have craz'd thy memory. 
 To me thefe gems were fold ; look on me well, 
 I was the friend of Chudio : thir.k, old man, 
 A nobler perfon's life, and reputation, 
 (More de ir than life,) hang on the words you utter. 
 
 M A N o A. 
 
 I've faid, what I have ftid ; were my foul's fate 
 Link'd to the teftimony, thus 1 ftake it : 
 As I do hops forgivenefs of my fins, 
 And peace in death, I never fold thefe gems, 
 Nor any like them, fave to noble Ciaudio. 
 
 G
 
 66 J U L I A : O R, T H E 
 
 DUKE. 
 
 Hear you, my lord ? 
 
 M E N T E V O L E. 
 
 I hear a fmhlefs Jw, 
 A (live fuborn'd, n trai'or to the ftate, 
 Abarikrupr, fugitive, and ourcalt Hebrew. 
 Aver he knows not what ; and ftill mare ftrange* 
 I fee the credulous duke of Genoa, 
 T.i firftin fftimatirn as in place, 
 Gaping to fwallow monftrous perjuries. 
 
 M A I* O A. 
 
 "What intereft, lord, have I to do this wrong ? 
 I enter'd, uninitruded of the e; ufe 
 For which you fuinmon'd me ; nor know I now, 
 Why I am thus revil'd for my true anfwer. 
 
 DUKE. [/MENTVOLE. 
 
 It can avail you rought, to difallow 
 The proof your, elf appeal'd to. 
 M A N o A. 
 
 Mighty fignor, 
 
 1 have an atteftation of my truth, 
 Beyond all oaths, or facred form of words. 
 If I am not a liar, and fuborn'd, 
 There reds within this frame a fpring cor.cealM 
 With M ceil art, and known to me alone, 
 And its firft mafter. Touch'd, it will difcover 
 The noble Claudio's image. Ay, 'tisheie. 
 JU-fated youth ! Is this to be a liar ? 
 
 [He touches a fpring, anJjheivsafiflure fl/'Cl.AUDlo 
 leneaih that oj JULIA. 
 
 JULIA. \_eagerly, 
 
 Give me t''at p!6lu:e. O, my promis'd love, 
 This was thy form. Thy hro^, the throne of honour, 
 And grace 'hy minirter. For evtr gone ! 
 So look'd thofe glofly eyes when turn'd on Julia. 
 Cold is that tongue. COIDC, animating warmth, 
 Breathe through my iips, give life to this dear fliade, 
 A.nd lei me die thus g
 
 . ITALIAN L O V E.R. 67 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Daemons feize thee ! fj/a MA.NOA. 
 Cramps and cold palfies wither thy curs'd hand ! 
 Thou haft undone me. 
 
 DUKE. [*' */*" 
 
 Sir, you are our prifoner ; 
 
 And in our palace you muft hear your fenlence. 
 
 Bear him away this inltant. 
 
 [T<w> of the Guards attempt to feize him. 
 
 MENTEVOLE. 
 
 Stand aloof! 
 
 Nor raHe a hand in violence againil me ; 
 Or with one itroke I'll fruftrate all your forms, 
 And the dark tale dies with me. 
 
 DUKE. 
 
 Hold ; let's hear him. 
 
 M E N T E V O L E. 
 
 I did kill Claudio On the morn you mifs'd him, 
 We took together our accuftom'd walk ; 
 When this too certain arm achiev'd the deed, 
 Which long Iny brooding in my jtaLufy. 
 
 F U L V I A. 
 
 Deliberate, cu;s'd allalfin I 
 JULIA. 
 
 O, my heart f 
 
 MENTRVOLE. 
 
 He talk'd with rapture of the approaching blifj, 
 Till piifion dio\-n'd his tight ; with eyes upc-ift, 
 Then drew that picture, hanging round his neck, 
 From underneath hisgarment ; glew'd his lips 
 With tranfport, to the beau eous, lifclefs form. 
 My fmothcr d fury ro!e at once to madnefs ; 
 With one hand, iroai hisgra r p 1 tore the picture, 
 And with the other fmote him to the heart. [JutiA/<H/j, 
 
 D u R A z z a. 
 
 My daughter ! ha ! the blood forfakes br cheeks. 
 Jvly life, my all, look up \ 
 
 FULVIA.
 
 68 J U L I A: OR, THE 
 
 F u L v i A. \_running to 
 
 Dear, injur'd, maid, 
 Live but to fee my penitence, my tears I 
 Thou lovely fufferer, O wake, and hear me ! 
 Alas ! fhe heeds me not. My barbarous tongue, 
 Sharp as the felon's fteel, was fatal to thee. 
 See, fhe revives. 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 Thank heaven ! fhe breathes again. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 O, who hascall'd me back to this dark world, 
 
 From choirs of angels, and celeftial light, 
 
 To view that murderer ? Yet, let me view him ; 
 
 For I would find the fpeed.eft way to peace ; 
 
 And in the hollow of his cruel eye, 
 
 There fhould be mortal mifchief, freezing terror, 
 
 To ftop the tide of nature. Monfter, think, 
 
 Pain, ignominy, death, which wait thee here, 
 
 Will have their lengthen'd end, but to confign thee 
 
 To ever-during mifery hereafter. 
 
 M E N T E V O L E. 
 
 My fentence here I know: the reft's uncertain. 
 But lead of all, f ifr forcerefs ! that tongue 
 Should aggravate the crime, thofe eyesperfuaded ; 
 Thou, thou, the caufe of all this guilt and ruin. 
 Why did I kill my friend ? Why, but for thee. 
 Why rifle my foul's perdition ? Still for thee. 
 Why forfeit lite and honour ? All for thee. 
 Then where friould 1 feek vengeance but from thee ? 
 And thns, infulted love thus bids me take it 
 
 [He jlabs JULIA, and attempts tojiab bimfelf, lui 
 is prevented. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Ha! 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 Seize his arm ! O, execrable wretch I 
 Fly, fly for fuccour ! See, (he bleeds, fhe dies ; 
 The fiend, the inhuman fiend has kill'd my daughter.
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 69 
 
 DUKE.. 
 
 Quick, bear him hence ; each hour while he draws 
 
 breath, 
 All laws divine and .human are infulted. . \_Exit DUKB. 
 
 MENTETOLE. 
 
 'Tis done ; I laugh at you. Your triumph's pad. 
 See there, the lad defpair of outraged love. 
 Now plunge me in your dungeons ; tire your code, 
 To wake new torments for me. The great fpirit 
 Which dared fuch deeds, jliall brave their penalty. 
 
 [MENTEVOLE it carried ojf. 
 D u R A z z o. 
 
 Good heaven, in pity to a father's anguifli, 
 Let me not lofe her thus ! my child, my child ! 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 The pain of this deep wound is light, my father ; 
 But O, to think, that your declining age 
 Will want the comfort of a daughter's care ; 
 That cold obedience mull difcharge the office 
 Affeftion made fo welcome to your Julia! 
 
 D u R A z z o. 
 My heart's bed blood ! I fhall not long furvive thee. 
 
 F u L v i A. 
 
 Hide me, O earth ! I tremble to approach- 
 Has thy foft generous heart one drop of mercy, 
 To fall upon a wretch, whole Ovage fury 
 Outraged thy viitiu-s, pierc'd thy tender foul, 
 Mocking thy bitte'tell pangs ? O, Juiia ! Julia ! 
 
 [kneeling, 
 JULIA. 
 
 Rife? madam, rife. Thefe fupplicating hands, 
 Your dreaming eyes, and that refpefted body, 
 Thus bow'd with grief, and groveling on the earth, 
 Are fights unfit for her, whole dying beams 
 With tender reverence muft ilill bthoid you. 
 Alas ! refentinent, at this awful moment, 
 Can find no place in my departing fpiiit ; 
 For all will loon be peace. 
 
 F u L v i A. 
 
 Thou faint-like good re fs ! 
 Unmov'd I faw thy tears, faw the fweet biufli 
 
 ' Of
 
 70 J U L I A : O R, T H E 
 
 Of thy wrong'd innocence. For pity hate me j 
 In lite, in death, rife not fo much above me. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Give me your hand ; my laft tenrs fail upon it. 
 As thefe dilfolving drops part from my eyes, 
 So melts the memory of all paft unkindnefs. 
 
 F U L V I A. 
 
 O, could they quench my evariafting fliame ! 
 
 M A R C E L L U S. ['wif/jOHf. 
 
 I will not he .withheld. [Enters.^] O, grief and horrour, 
 Why, why did I obey ? thy cruel order 
 Kept me far olf. My prefence might have faved thee. 
 The rushlefs ruffian in my faithful breaft 
 Should firft have drench'd hisfteel. Thefe fruiilefs tears 
 Are all I now have left thee. 
 JULIA. 
 
 Thus 'tis better. 
 
 A life of furrow, (fuch alas, was mine) 
 Is well exchang'd for blefa'd etemity ; 
 Thine fhall be long and happy. 
 M A .:c E L L v s, 
 
 Never, hcTcr: 
 
 Infinite woe from this black hour awaits me. 
 Yet let me print on that pale beauteous hand 
 One fad adieu. O, that my foul could p -fs thus ! 
 By every f.icred power that hears, 1 fwe;ir, 
 My lips thus hallow'd by this holy kifs, 
 Shall ne'er again 
 
 JULIA. [eagerly, 
 
 As you regard my peace, 
 My lad, my enrnelr. prayer, let no raili vow, 
 Blafting the hopes of all your noble race, 
 Replunge the dagger in my bleeding bolbm. 
 
 MARCELLUS. 
 
 Yet, there are means of death 
 
 F u L v i A. 
 
 My bed Marcellus ! 
 
 J U L I A. [to FuLVIA 
 
 I beg you do not leave my poor remains, 
 But lighten that fad office to my father.
 
 ITALIAN LOVER. 71 
 
 D U R A Z Z O. 
 
 O, mifery! 
 
 JULIA. [taking papers from her breaff. 
 
 Thefe papers pray obferve me 
 
 Bury thefe papers with me. Lay that piclure 
 Clofc to my heart, and let my coffin reft 
 In the fame tomb which holds my murder'd Claudio; 
 One love, one death, and the fame fepulchre. 
 1 thank your tender tears. Fountain of mercy ! 
 Mild peace, and heavenly light, dawn on my fenfe ; 
 My pains grow lefs; this load will foon fall off: 
 I ihull be happy. Weep not. Mercy ! O ! [Dies'. 
 
 [Curtain falls. 
 
 THE END.
 
 EPILOGUE, 
 
 Written by JOHN COURTENAY, Efq, 
 
 Spoken by Mrs. SID DONS. 
 
 THOUGH tender fighs breathe in the tragic page, 
 What lover now complains but on tire ftage ? 
 No fuitor now attempts his rival's life, 
 Kut lets him take that cordial balm a wife: 
 And yet, to prove his pore and conllant flame, 
 Still loves his miftrefs in the wedded darae ; 
 Still courts his friend, and ftill devoutly bows 
 At the fair flirine where firft he breath'd his vows. 
 For love, flie knows fome gratitude is due, 
 Searches her heart, and fir^is there's room for two ; 
 And often fees, her coy reluctance o'er, 
 Good caufe to prize her earn fpofo more. 
 Thus tuodifli wives, \viih fenrimental fpirit, 
 May go albay, to prove their huibands* merit,- 
 Or ope the door, in this commodious age, 
 Without death's aid, to 'fc;ipe from wedlock's cage.** 
 Abjuring rules, thatfoon will feem romance, 
 Love's gayer fyftem we import from France ; 
 Refcind politely our old Englifh duty, 
 And take off all reftraint from wine and beauty; 
 While lighter manners cheer our native gloom, 
 As Sparifli wool refines the Britifh loom. 
 
 Had fafhion's law of old fuch influence fhed, 
 The raprur'd Chudio ne'er had limdefs bled : 
 His blils with joy Mentevole had feen, 
 And Julia's favourite Cicifbe' had been. 
 The aflu'.uous lover,^and the hufband's bland, 
 Like Brentford's kings, had ftill walk'd hand in hand; 
 Together ftill had (hone at Paik, *nd play, 
 Quaffing the fragrance of the fame bouquet. 
 
 Our varlet poer, with lieenttotis Ipeech, 
 Thus far our injurM fex h is d- i 'ii' \inptatb, 
 The female char;iCt^r fhus nu.f:ly Ouri'd, 
 'Tis fit, at laft, that / lliould have a word. 
 
 H Firft
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Firft then, without rejoinder or difpute, 
 This virtuous circle might each charge refute. 
 That 'tis a nuptial age, I fure may fay, 
 With their own wives when hufbands runaway. 
 But truce with jeft. Howe'cr the wits may rail, 
 The caufeof truth and virtue muft prevail. 
 Of former times whatever may be told, 
 We are juft as good as e'er they were of old. 
 Connubial Love here long has fix'd his throne, 
 And blifs is our's, to foreign climes unknown. 
 If noi *nd then a tripping fair is found, 
 On Scandal's wing's the buzzing tale flies round ; 
 While blamelefs tboufan4s> fn fequefter'd life, 
 Adorn each (late, of parent, friend, and wife, 
 From private cares ne'er wiih abroad to roam, 
 And blefs each day the funihine of their home i 
 Unnoticed keep their noifelefc happy courfe, 
 Nor dream of fecond wedlock or divorce. 
 
 I fee the verdicYs ours } you fmile applaufe j 
 So, with your leave, again I'll plead our caufe ; 
 New triumphs nightly o'er this railer gain, 
 And to the laft our female rights' maintain. 
 
 F I N I S.
 
 PROLOGUE, 
 
 Written by E D M O N D M A L O N E, 
 
 And fpoken by Mr. K E M B L E. 
 
 FROM Thefpis* days to this enlighten'd hour, 
 The ttage has fhewn the dire abufe of power; 
 What mighty mifchief from ambition fprings } 
 The fate of heroes, and the fall of kings. 
 But thefe high themes, howe'er adorn'd by art, 
 Have feldom gain'd the paffes of the heart : 
 Calm we behold the pompous mimick woe, 
 Unmov'd by forrows we can never know. 
 Far other feelings in the foul arife, 
 When private griefs arreft our ears and eyes ; 
 When the falfe friend, and blamelefs, luflfering wife, 
 Reflect the image of domeftic life: 
 And fl.il! more wide the fympathy, more keen, 
 When to each breaft refponfive is the fcene j 
 And the fine cords that every heart intwine, 
 
 Dilated, vibrate with the glowing line 
 
 Such is the theme, that now demands your ear, 
 And claims the filent plaudit of a tear. 
 One tyrant paiTion all mankind muft prove ; 
 The balm or poifon of our lives is love. 
 Love's fovereign fway extends o'er every dune, 
 Nor owns a limit or of fpace or time. 
 For love, the generous fair one hath fuftain'd 
 More poignant ills than ever poet feign'd. 
 For love, the maid partakes her lover's tomb, 
 Or pines lon^ life out in fad foothlefs gloom. 
 Ne'er mall Oblivion fliroud the Giecian wife *, 
 Who gave her own, to fave a hulband's lite. 
 
 * Sf-etfant fubt tin tern fata mariti, 
 Alceftem. Juv. 
 
 With
 
 P R O L O CT- U E. 
 
 With her contend ing, &? our Edward's bride, 
 
 luibibihg poifon from his mangled fide. 
 
 Nor lefs, though proud of Intel leclual fvvay. 
 
 Does haughty man the tyrant power obey : 
 
 From youth to age by I6ve's wild terripeft toft, 
 
 For love, even mighty kingdoms has he loft. 
 
 Vain wealth, and fame, and Fortune's foft'ringcare *. 
 
 If no fond Jbreaft the fplendid blffings flme ; 
 
 And, each day's bulling pngeantry once paft, 
 
 Tfare, only there, his biifs is found at laft. 
 
 For woes fi5litious oft your teais have flowed j 
 Your cheek for wrongs imaginary glow'd. 
 To-night our poet means not to aflail 
 Your throbbing bofoms with a (ancy'd talc. 
 Scarce fixty funs their annual courfe have roll'd, 
 Since all v;as real that our fccnes unfold, 
 To touch your breads with no unpleafing pain, 
 The Mufe's magick bids it live again : 
 Uids mingled characters, as once in life, 
 Relume their functions, and renew their ftrife ; 
 While pride, revenge, and jealoufy's wild rage, 
 Roufe all the genius of the iinpaflion'd ftagc. 
 
 * " Thou art a (live, wiiom Fortune's tender arm . 
 " With favour never clalpM." Tiwin if Athens.
 
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