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BEAUFORT:-bred up as the Duke's son.

CARLOS:-an old worthy domestic attending on Beau





domestics of Doricourt.

THEODORA :-daughter of the Duke, and wife of Dori


CLARA ;-her attendant.

Scene lies in VALENCE.

Time, within twenty-four hours.



A Tragedy.


SCENE I. Doricourt's House.


[Theodora is seated in a mournful attitude.] CLA. Ah, wherefore, madam, do I thus behold you! Thus, ever plung'd in silence and in sorrow? I left you gay, and lovely as the morn, When, with your kind permission, I departed 1 To seek relief for my declining health Amid our native mountains:-In my absence, Your darling infant's birth, I hop'd, had added Maternal transports to your other joys: But my return makes me a mournful witness, That happiness no longer is your portion.

Theo. [rising.] It has, indeed, taken a long farewell Of Theodora, for whom now remains

Nothing but sighs and tears and heartfelt anguish!
And dost thou ask wherefore these sighs and tears,
Who know'st so well, I rashly have defied

A father's power, and triumph'd o'er his love!-
The daughter of the Duke of Longueville

Is lost in the detested wife of Doricourt !
Alas, 'tis true-in his detested wife.
Oh! I have disappointed the first wish
Of a fond father's heart! yet, could that heart
But image to itself the pangs of mine,
I might regain a portion of his love :--
At least, some gentle drops of sacred pity
Would fall, to hear my melancholy tale!

Cla. Might not a friend in kindness represent-
Theo. O save me from the horrid supposition!
What!-add more shame! more sorrow to the weight
Of the vast load that I have brought upon him!-
No! Let me rather silent sink to rest,
And in the friendly shelter of the grave,
Be no more lov'd, or pity'd, or remember'd!

Cla. Madam, restrain this violence of grief. Theo. A parent's bitter curse, a husband's hatred, Join'd to disgrace and ruin, who can bear? Open, thou friendly earth, and in thy bosom Let me repose, and hide myself in death!

Cla. A father and a husband, both unkind, Teach dreadful lessons; yet, be comforted; For who has less deserv'd so hard a fate?

Theo. Ah, cease, my faithful Clara, to persuade meHave I not merited to be unhappy?

O filial disobedience what can palliate?

You must have often heard a parent's will
Had early destin'd me the wife of Beaufort-
That hero's son, who once preserv'd his life,
And died to save his friend: which benefit

The Duke, with never-ceasing gratitude,
Has labor❜d to repay; and 'twas with joy
His daughter's hand and fortune, he decreed,
Should to the son, reward the father's action.
This son, too, was deserving every bounty
That gracious heaven bestows on happy mortals:
And though from childhood I had not beheld him,
Yet his high-sounding praise had reach'd my ears.
It spoke him noble-minded, generous, brave:
Report was never weary in his praise;
And my delighted father was its echo.-
But deaf to ev'ry voice we ought to heed,
I only listen'd to the voice of Doricourt.
The dreadful moment of infatuation
Arriv'd and doom'd me to this depth of ruin!
Alas! I own my punishment is just :
But ought it, Doricourt, to come from thee!
Cla. Madam, have better thoughts.
Good, friendly creature!
Whose patient duty merits more reward,
Than thy poor mistress ever can bestow ;
Methinks in talking o'er my woes to thee,
I feel my mind reliev'd-and Comfort come.
Surely my sufferings will atone my faults;-
For thus to lose a tender parent's love,
To live in poverty with those that hate us.—
But let me bear my injuries with patience!
The scene must soon be clos'd, and could I hope
His grandsire's blessing for my darling child,
A mother's anxious heart would rest in peace.
Cla. There is no question but his innocence
Must melt your father's heart.


Theo. O that it may ! It is his sole dependence; for his father, (From thee 'tis needless to conceal the truth)

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