ALL'S LOST BY LUST. A TRAGEDY. BY WILLIAM ROWLEY.

Roderigo, King of Spain, takes the opportunity to violate the Daughter of Julianus, while that old General is fighting his battles against the Moors. Jacinta seeks her Father in the Camp, at the moment of Victory.

Ser. Sir, here's a Woman (forced by some tide of sorrow) With tears intreats your pity, and to see you.

Jul. If any Soldier has done violence to her, Beyond our military discipline,

Death shall divide him from us: fetch her in.

I have myself a Daughter, on whose face
But thinking, I must needs be pitiful :

And when I ha' told my conquest to my King,
My poor girl then shall know, how for her sake
I did one pious act :

Servant returns with JACINTA veiled.

Is this the creature?

Serv. Yes, my Lord, and a sad one.

Jul. Leave us. A sad one!

The down-cast look calls up compassion in me,

A corse going to the grave looks not more deadly.
Why kneel'st thou ? art thou wrong'd by any Soldier ?
Rise for this honor is not due to me.

Hast not a tongue to read thy sorrows out?

This book I understand not.

Jacin. O my dear father!

Jul. Thy father, who has wrong'd him?

Jacin. A great Commander.

Jul. Under me?

Jacin. Above you.

Jul. Above me! who's above a general?

None but the general of all Spain's armies;

And that's the king, king Roderick: he's all goodness,
He cannot wrong thy father.

Jacin. What was Tarquin?

Jul. A king, and yet a ravisher.

Jacin. Such a sin

Was in those days a monster; now 'tis common.

Jul. Prithee be plain.

Jacin. Have not you, Sir, a daughter?

Jul. If I have not, I am the wretched'st man

That this day lives; for all the wealth I have
Lives in that child.

Jacin. O for your daughter's sake then hear my woes.
Jul. Rise then, and speak 'em.

Jacin. No, let me kneel still :

Such a resemblance of a daughter's duty

Will make you mindful of a father's love:

For such my injuries must exact from you,

As you would for your own.

Jul. And so they do ;

For whilst I see thee kneeling, I think of my Jacinta.
Jacin. Say your Jacinta then, chaste as the rose
Coming on sweetly in the springing bud,

And ne'er felt heat, to spread the summer sweet;
But, to increase and multiply it more,

Did to itself keep in its own perfume;

Say that some rapine hand had pluck'd the bloom,*
Jacinta, like that flower, and ravish'd her,
Defiling her white lawn of chastity

With ugly blacks of lust: what would you do?
Jul. O 'tis too hard a question to resolve,
Without a solemn council held within

Of man's best understanding faculties:

There must be love, and fatherhood, and grief,
And rage, and many passions: and they must all

Beget a thing call'd vengeance: but they must sit upon 't.
Jacin. Say this were done by him that carried

The fairest seeming face of friendship to yourself.
Jul. We should fall out.

Jacin. Would you in such a case respect degrees?
Jul. I know not that.

* "Cropt this fair Rose," &c.-Otway.

Jacin. Say he were noble.

Jul. Impossible: the act's ignoble.

The Bee can breed

No poison, though it suck the juice of hemlock.

Jacin. Say a king should do it; were the act less done, By the greater power? does majesty

Extenuate a crime?

Jul. Augment it rather.

Jacin. Say then that Roderick, your king and master, To quit the honors you are bringing home,

Had ravish'd your Jacinta.

Jul. Who has sent

A Fury in this foul-fair shape to vex me?
I ha' seen that face methinks yet know it not:
How darest thou speak this treason 'gainst my king?
Durst any man in the world bring me this lie,

By this, he had been in hell: Roderick a Tarquin!
Jacin. Yes, and thy daughter (had she done her part)
Should be the second Lucrece.

I am Jacinta.

Jul. Ha!

Jacin. The king my ravisher.

View me well:

Jul. The king thy ravisher! oh, unkingly sound. He dares not sure; yet in thy sullied eyes

I read a tragic story.

ANTONIO, Alonzo, and other Officers, enter.

Jul. O noble friends,

Our wars are ended, are they not?

All. They are, Sir.

Jul. But Spain has now begun a civil war,

And to confound me only. See you my daughter?
She sounds the trumpet which draws forth my

To be revenged.

sword

Alon. On whom? speak loud your wrongs;
Digest your choler into temperance;
Give your considerate thoughts the upper hand
In your hot passions, 'twill assuage the swelling
Of your big heart: if you have injuries done you,

Revenge them, and we second you.

Jacin. Father, dear father.

Jul. Daughter, dear daughter.

Jacin. Why do you kneel to me, Sir!

Jul. To ask thee pardon that I did beget thee. I brought thee to a shame, stains all the way "Twixt earth and Acheron: not all the clouds

(The skies' large canopy) could they drown the seas With a perpetual inundation,

Can wash it ever out: leave me, I pray.

Alon. His fighting passion will be o'er anon,

And all will be at peace.

Ant. Best in my judgment

We wake him with the sight of his won honors.

Call up the army, and let them present

His prisoners to him: such a sight as that

Will brook, no sorrow near it.

[Falls down.

Jul. 'Twas a good doctor that prescrib'd that physic.
I'll be your patient, Sir; show me my soldiers,
And my new honors won: I will truly weigh them
With my full griefs, they may perhaps o'ercome.

Alon. Why now there's hopes of his recovery.
Jul. Jacinta, welcome, thou art my child still:
No forced stain of lust can alienate

Our consanguinity.

Jacin. Dear father,

Recollect your noble spirits: conquer grief,
The manly way you have brave foes subdued,
Then let no female passions thus o'erwhelm you.
Jul. Mistake me not, my child, I am not mad,
Nor must be idle; for it were more fit
(If I could purchase more) I had more wit,
To help in these designs: I am grown old:
Yet I have found more strength within this arm,
Than (without proof) I durst ha' boasted on.

Roderick, thou king of monsters, couldst thou do this,
And for thy lust confine me from the court?

There's reason in thy shame, thou shouldst not see me.

Ha! they come, Jacinta, they come, hark, hark;

Now thou shalt see what cause I have given my king.

Vanquished Moors' address to the Sun.

Descend thy sphere, thou burning Deity.
Haste from our shame, go blushing to thy bed;
Thy sons* we are, thou everlasting Ball,

Yet never shamed these our impressive brows
Till now we that are stampt with thine own seal,
Which the whole ocean cannot wash away,
Shall those cold ague cheeks that Nature moulds
Within her winter shop, those smooth white skins,
That with a palsy hand she paints the limbs,

Make us recoil ?

Man's Heart.

I would fain know what kind thing a man's heart is.

were you never

At Barber Surgeons' Hall to see a dissection?
I will report it to you: 'tis a thing framed
With divers corners, and into every corner
A man may entertain a friend : (there came
The proverb, A man may love one well, and yet
Retain a friend in a corner.)—————

tush, 'tis not

The real heart; but the unseen faculties.

-Those I'll decipher unto you: (for surely

The most part are but ciphers.) The heart indeed
For the most part doth keep a better guest

Than himself in him; that is, the soul. Now the soul
Being a tree, there are divers branches spreading out of it,

As loving-affection, suffering-sorrows, and the like.
Then, Sir, these affections or sorrows being but branches,

Are sometimes lopt off, or of themselves wither;

And new shoot in their rooms: as for example;

Your friend dies, there appears sorrow, but it quickly

Withers; then is that branch gone. Again, you love a friend;

*Children of the Sun."-Zanga in the Revenge.