Nor.

How

OW cheerfully hath this day's light-
broke forth!

The new-rifen fun, dreft rich in orient beams,
Beholds, with triumph, the late wife of Effex
Transplant her beauties, from his barren fhade,
To flourish by the heat of love and Somerset.

Ell. Never fhall I forget the tempting bride!
Such dazzling luftre fparkled from her eyes,
That the proud gems fhe wore fhone dim beneath
'em-;

Inviting warmth glow'd lovely on her cheeks,

And from her tongue flow'd fuch melodious founds,,
That lift'ning rage grew gentle as her accents,
And age was youth again by looking on her!"

Nor. Yet, tho' her features are as foft as air,
Strong paffions urge her mind to manly daring!'
Work'd up by nature with unusual strength,
Vengeance, ambition, and the warmth of greatnefs
Swell in her foul, and lift her above woman.

Ell. That Overbury, who oppos'd this marriage,. Will frown on its conclufion-He's your enemy!

When

When correfponding with the court of Rome,
'Twas he who intercepted dangerous letters..
Nor. He did, nor think that I forget he did it:
My genius, baleful as a comet's blaze,

Hangs o'er his head, and burns with red revenge!
Nay, he's my rival too!-That fiery thought
Glows in my breaft; and as I weigh my wrongs,
I fwell like Ætna, when her fulph'rous rage
Burfts o'er the earth, and rolls in foods of fire.
Ell. Your Ifabella, Somerfet's fair charge,
Is fure an abstract of divine perfection!
While Overbury's love, like a black cloud,
Cuts off, and intercepts the glittering profpect.

Nor. O! name it not-it must not, shall not be
Old as I am, I'll fnatch the pleasure from him;
And love and policy fhall join to crush him.

Ell. You know her charms are Somerset's disposal. Warm in the luftre of our late Queen's graces, "Tis strange, to mark the power of time to change

us.

Her father fhone the favourite of the court:
But when his day of hope at length declin'd,
Drove by his enemies, he fled to Scotland,
Pin'd there, and, chill'd with forrows, died an exilet
Nor. 'Tis well - but I have news more worth
relating!

Wade, the lieutenant of the Tower's difplac'd.
Ell. May I remind your lordfhip of a promise ?
Nor. Thou need'ft not, Ell'ways, I fo truly
prize thee,

That were my mind big with my country's fate,
With plots, which known, would blast my life and

honour,

I fhou'd,

I fhou'd, I think, unfold 'em to thy friendship-
Of that hereafter-See, the bride approaches!
Exit Ell.

Enter the Countess of Somerfet.

Nor. Hail, to thofe charms! that fmile upon the

morn,

And fweetly gild it, like a milder fun!

May joys, in circles, dance away your days!
And length of years fuftain your bridle pleafures!
Fair Somerfet! now happy too, and great!
Bleft with perfection to the height of thought!
The worth that could deferve beauty like your's,
Infures foft blifs, and heaps long life with pleasure.

Count. Thus-while a lover, talk'd my Somerfet,
His words fell foft like hov'ring flakes of fnow,
And in cold tremblings melted on my bofom!
But now, alas !—

Nor. You cannot, fure, fufpect him!:

Count. He has alarm'd

A pride that catches the first spark, and kindles
To be forfaken, is a thought of horror!

Oh! it would grate the woman in my foul,
To have my pride fubdu'd, and make me mad!
Tho' but last night our nuptials fix'd him mine!
Starting this morning from my flighted arms,
Thought feem'd to prefs his mind, fighs heav'd his
bofom,

And, as repenting of his wifh poffefs'd,

Fulk in the blushing dawn, he rofe and left me. Nor. There is a damp, I know, that clouds his

joys,

A vapour, which your warmth might foon difperfe, Count. What points my uncle at?

Nor.

Nor. I'll speak it plainly-

Overbury !

That restless foe of ours-your husband's friend! This morning is expected.

Count. Overbury!

Then aid me, indignation-rage-and vengeance!
Nor. Wifely, you call on rage for its affistance;
Juftice would be too flow for your revenge,
And confcience bids us give it up for ever!
But what is confcience ?-a thin empty name,
That terrifies, like ghofts, by fancy rais'd.
Ev'n the most brave use stratagems in war;
And what are plots against a private foe,
But felf-defence?—the first great rule of nature!
Count. My lord, I fee to what your counsel leads
me!

I am a woman! nay, a woman wrong'd!
And when our fex, from injuries take fire, -
Our foftnefs turns to fury !-and our thoughts
Breathe vengeance and destruction!

Nor. Spoke like yourself!

Count. Oh! I'm transported with infpiring heat! You know I never lov'd the Earl of Somerfet, 'Twas intereft, 'twas ambition won me to him; And there's one thought, I own, has rack'd my peace,

The only one I e'er conceal'd from you.

Nor. Inftruct me-It may ferve us as a plan,
From which I'll raife a pile of tow'ring mischief,
Shall nod with watchful horror o'er his head,
Till, tumbling, it fhall crush him into ruin.
Count. Know then, with fhame I fpeak it, I have
lov'd him!

Nor. Lov'd whom ?-not Overbury !

Count

Count. Yes! lov'd him, more than I deteft him

now!

Each thought, look, gefture, has confeft the folly! Nay, I have wrote-O heav'n! I know not what! Reason was fled!-and every thought was madness! And now he may betray me!

Nor. May! he will

Thefe letters must be artfully won from him:
Succeeding, we ftir Somerset against him;
Revenge, with transport then, would fweeten all
The rage of flighted love-urge that difcreetly:
I know the temper of your lord-'twill fire him!—
Touch but that point, and jealoufy pleads for

you

But mark! he comes, and feems amus'd and pen

five:

'Tis fit we part-anon we'll fix our scheme.

Enter Earl of Somerset.

Exit Count.

Som. A kind good-morrow to my honour'd uncle! Now fortune feems to fmile in earneft on me; This last night's. bleffing crown'd my warmest wish, And kindling fancy from the thought takes fire! Oh! my good lord! language gives way beneath it, The painter's colours, and the poet's art Cou'd touch but a faint image of my joys.

Nor. And yet, if I mistook you not, at entrance, Your looks were low'ring, and your bofom labour'd!

Thro' the gay fmile of your

diffembled joy, I faw th' obfcuring shade which wrap'd your foul. Som. Sure you mistook!. -I think I was all

rapture!

How