The Works of Aphra Behn Volume V Part 13

These Words made the fair _Agnes de Castro_ perceive that her Innocency was not so great as she imagined, and that her Heart interested it self in the Preservation of _Don Pedro_: 'You ought, Sir, to preserve your Life (reply'd _Agnes_) for the sake of the little Prince and Princesses, which _Constantia_ has left you. Would you abandon their Youth (continued she, with a tender Tone) to the Cruelty of _Don Alvaro_?

Live! Sir, live! and let the unhappy _Agnes_ be the only Sacrifice.'

'Alas, cruel Maid! (interrupted _Don Pedro_) Why do you command me to live, if I cannot live with you? Is it an effect of your Hatred?' 'No, Sir, (reply'd _Agnes_) I do not hate you; and I wish to G.o.d that I could be able to defend my self against the Weakness with which I find my self possess'd. Oblige me to say no more, Sir: you see my Blushes, interpret them as you please: but consider yet, that the less Aversion I find I have to you, the more culpable I am; and that I ought no more to see, or speak to you. In fine, Sir, if you oppose my Retreat, I declare to you, that _Don Alvaro_, as odious as he is to me, shall serve for a Defence against you; and that I will sooner consent to marry a Man I abhor, than to favour a Pa.s.sion that cost _Constantia_ her Life.' 'Well then, _Agnes_ (reply'd the Prince, with Looks all languis.h.i.+ng and dying) follow the Motions which barbarous Virtue inspires you with; take these Measures you judge necessary against an unfortunate Lover, and enjoy the Glory of having cruelly refused me.'

At these Words he went away; and troubled as _Agnes_ was, she would not stay him: Her Courage combated with her Grief, and she thought now, more than ever, of departing.

'Twas difficult for her to go out of _Coimbra_; and not to defer what appear'd to her so necessary, she went immediately to the Apartment of the King, notwithstanding the Interest of _Don Alvaro_. The King received her with a Countenance severe, not being able to consent to what she demanded: _You shall not go hence, +(said he)+ and if you are wise, you shall enjoy here with +Don Alvaro+ both my Friends.h.i.+p and my Favour. I have taken another Resolution (+answer'd+ Agnes) and the World has no part in it. You will accept +Don Pedro (reply'd the King)+ his Fortune is sufficient to satisfy an ambitious Maid: but you will not succeed +Constantia+, who lov'd you so tenderly; and +Spain+ has Princesses enough to fill up part of the Throne which I shall leave him.

Sir, (+reply'd+ Agnes, +piqu'd at this Discourse+) if I had a Disposition to love, and a Design to marry, perhaps the Prince might be the only Person on whom I would fix it: And you know, if my Ancestors did not possess Crowns, yet they were worthy to wear 'em. But let it be how it will, I am resolved to depart, and to remain no longer a Slave in a Place to which I came free._

This bold Answer, which shew'd the Character of _Agnes_, anger'd and astonished the King. _You shall go when we think fit +(reply'd he)+ and without being a Slave at +Coimbra+, you shall attend our order._

_Agnes_ saw she must stay, and was so griev'd at it, that she kept her Chamber several days, without daring to inform herself of the Prince; and this Retirement spared her the Affliction of being visited by _Don Alvaro_.

During this, _Don Pedro_ fell sick, and was in so great danger, that there was a general apprehension of his Death. _Agnes_ did not in the least doubt, but it was an effect of his Discontent: she thought at first she had Strength and Resolution enough to see him die, rather than to favour him; but had she reflected a little, she had soon been convinc'd to the contrary. She found not in her Heart that cruel Constancy she thought there so well established: She felt Pains and Inquietude, shed Tears, made Wishes; and, in fine, discover'd that she lov'd.

'Twas impossible to see the Heir of the Crown, a Prince that deserved so well, even at the point of Death, without a general Affliction. The People who loved him, pa.s.s'd whole days at the Palace-gate to hear News of him: The Court was all over-whelm'd with Grief.

_Don Alvaro_ knew very well how to conceal a malicious Joy, under an Appearance of Sadness. _Elvira_, full of Tenderness, and perhaps of Remorse, suffer'd also on her side. The King, altho' he condemned the Love of his Son, yet still had a Tenderness for him, and could not resolve to lose him. _Agnes de Castro_, who knew the Cause of his Distemper, expected the End of it with strange Anxieties: In fine, after a Month had pa.s.s'd away in Fears, they began to have a little hopes of his Recovery. The Prince and _Don Alvaro_ were the only Persons that were not glad of it: But _Agnes_ rejoic'd enough for all the rest.

_Don Pedro_, seeing that he must live whether he wou'd or no, thought of nothing but pa.s.sing his days in melancholy and discontent: As soon as he was in a condition to walk, he sought out the most solitary Places, and gain'd so much upon his own Weakness, to go every where, where _Agnes_ was not; but her Idea followed him always, and his Memory, faithful to represent her to him with all her Charms, render'd her always dangerous.

One day, when they had carry'd him into the Garden, he sought out a Labyrinth which was at the farthest part of it, to hide his Melancholy, during some hours; there he found the sad _Agnes_, whom Grief, little different from his, had brought thither; the sight of her whom he expected not, made him tremble: She saw by his pale and meagre Face the remains of his Distemper; his Eyes full of Languishment troubled her, and tho' her Desire was so great to have fled from him, an unknown Power stopt her, and 'twas impossible for her to go.

After some Moments of Silence, which many Sighs interrupted, _Don Pedro_ rais'd himself from the Place where his Weakness had forced him to sit; he made _Agnes_ see, as he approach'd her, the sad Marks of his Sufferings: and not content with the Pity he saw in her Eyes, _You have resolved my Death then, cruel +Agnes+, +(said he)+ my desire was the same with yours; but Heaven has thought fit to reserve me for other Misfortunes, and I see you again, as unhappy, but more in love than ever._

There was no need of these Words to move _Agnes_ to compa.s.sion, the Languishment of the Prince spoke enough; and the Heart of this fair Maid was but too much disposed to yield it self: She thought then that _Constantia_ ought to be satisfy'd; Love, which combated for _Don Pedro_, triumphed over Friends.h.i.+p, and found that happy Moment, for which the Prince of _Portugal_, had so long sighed.

_Do not reproach me, for that which has cost me more than you, Sir, +(replied she)+ and do not accuse a Heart, which is neither ingrateful nor barbarous: and I must tell you, that I love you. But now I have made you that Confession, what is it farther that you require of me?_ _Don Pedro_, who expected not a Change so favourable, felt a double Satisfaction; and falling at the Feet of _Agnes_, he express'd more by the Silence his Pa.s.sion created, than he could have done by the most eloquent Words.

After having known all his good Fortune, he then consulted with the amiable _Agnes_, what was to be feared from the King; they concluded that the cruel Billet, which so troubled the last days of _Constantia_, could come from none but _Elvira_ and _Don Alvaro_. The Prince, who knew that his Father had searched already an Alliance for him, and was resolv'd on his Favourite's marrying _Agnes_, conjur'd her so tenderly to prevent these Persecutions, by consenting to a secret Marriage, that, after having a long time consider'd, she at last consented. _I will do what you will have me_ (said she) _tho' I presage nothing but fatal Events from it; all my Blood turns to Ice, when I think of this Marriage, and the Image of +Constantia+ seems to hinder me from doing it._

The amorous Prince surmounted all her Scruples, and separated himself from _Agnes_, with a Satisfaction which soon redoubled his Forces; he saw her afterward with the Pleasure of a Mystery: And the Day of their Union being arrived, _Don Gill_, Bishop of _Guarda_, performed the Ceremony of the Marriage, in the Presence of several Witnesses, faithful to _Don Pedro_, who saw him Possessor of all the Charms of the fair _Agnes_.

She lived not the more peaceable for belonging to the Prince of _Portugal_; her Enemies, who continually persecuted her, left her not without Troubles: and the King, whom her Refusal inrag'd, laid his absolute Commands on her to marry _Don Alvaro_, with Threats to force her to it, if she continu'd rebellious.

The Prince took loudly her part; and this, join'd to the Refusal he made of marrying the Princess of _Arragon_, caus'd Suspicions of the Truth in the King his Father. He was seconded by those that were too much interested, not to unriddle this Secret. _Don Alvaro_ and his Sister acted with so much care, gave so many Gifts, and made so many Promises, that they discover'd the secret Engagements of _Don Pedro_ and _Agnes_.

The King wanted but little of breaking out into all the Rage and Fury so great a Disappointment could inspire him with, against the Princess.

_Don Alvaro_, whose Love was changed into the most violent Hatred, appeased the first Transports of the King, by making him comprehend, that if they could break the Marriage of 'em, that would not be a sufficient Revenge; and so poison'd the Soul of the King, to consent to the Death of _Agnes_.

The barbarous _Don Alvaro_ offered his Arm for this terrible Execution, and his Rage was Security for the Sacrifice.

The King, who thought the Glory of his Family disgraced by this Alliance, and his own in particular in the Procedure of his Son, gave full Power to this Murderer, to make the innocent _Agnes_ a Victim to his Rage.

It was not easy to execute this horrid Design: Tho' the Prince saw _Agnes_ but in secret, yet all his Cares were still awake for her, and he was marry'd to her above a Year, before _Don Alvaro_ could find out an opportunity so long sought for.

The Prince diverted himself but little, and very rarely went far from _Coimbra_; but on a Day, an unfortunate Day, and marked out by Heaven for an unheard-of and horrid a.s.sa.s.sination, he made a Party to hunt at a fine House, which the King of _Portugal_ had near the City.

_Agnes_ lov'd every thing that gave the Prince satisfaction; but a secret Trouble made her apprehend some Misfortune in this unhappy Journey. _Sir_, (said she to him, alarm'd, without knowing the Reason why) _I tremble, seeing you today as it were designed the last of my Life: Preserve your self, my dear Prince; and tho' the Exercise you take be not very dangerous, beware of the least Hazards, and bring me back all that I trust with you. Don Pedro_, who had never found her so handsome and so charming before, embraced her several times, and went out of the Palace with his Followers, with a Design not to return till the next Day.

He was no sooner gone, but the cruel _Don Alvaro_ prepared himself for the Execution he had resolv'd on; he thought it of that importance, that it required more Hands than his own, and so chose for his Companions _Don Lopez Pacheo_, and _Pedro Cuello_, two Monsters like himself, whose Cruelty he was a.s.sur'd of by the Presents he had made 'em.

They waited the coming of the Night, and the lovely _Agnes_ was in her first Sleep, which was the last of her Life, when these a.s.sa.s.sins approach'd her Bed. Nothing made resistance to _Don Alvaro_, who could do every thing, and whom the blackest Furies introduced to _Agnes_; she waken'd, and opening her Curtains, saw, by the Candle burning in her Chamber, the Ponyard with which _Don Alvaro_ was armed; he having his Face not cover'd, she easily knew him, and forgetting herself, to think of nothing but the Prince: _Just Heaven_ (said she, lifting up her fine Eyes) _if you will revenge +Constantia+, satisfy your self with my Blood only, and spare that of_ Don Pedro. The barbarous Man that heard her, gave her not time to say more; and finding he could never (by all he could do by Love) touch the Heart of the fair _Agnes_, he pierc'd it with his Ponyard: his Accomplices gave her several Wounds, tho' there was no necessity of so many to put an end to an innocent Life.

What a sad Spectacle was this for those who approach'd her Bed the next day! And what dismal News was this to the unfortunate Prince of _Portugal_! He returned to _Coimbra_ at the first report of this Adventure, and saw what had certainly cost him his Life, if Men could die of Grief. After having a thousand times embraced the b.l.o.o.d.y Body of _Agnes_, and said all that a just Despair could inspire him with, he ran like a Mad-man into the Palace, demanding the Murderers of his Wife, of things that could not hear him. In fine, he saw the King, and without observing any respect, he gave a loose to his Resentment: after having rail'd a long time, overwhelm'd with Grief, he fell into a Swoon, which continu'd all that day. They carry'd him into his Apartment: and the King, believing that his Misfortune would prove his Cure, repented not of what he had permitted.

_Don Alvaro_, and the two other a.s.sa.s.sins, quitted _Coimbra_. This Absence of theirs made 'em appear guilty of the Crime; for which the afflicted Prince vow'd a speedy Vengeance to the Ghost of his lovely _Agnes_, resolving to pursue them to the uttermost part of the Universe; He got a considerable number of Men together, sufficient to have made resistance, even to the King of _Portugal_ himself, if he should yet take the part of the Murderers: with these he ravaged the whole Country, as far as the _Duero_ Waters, and carry'd on a War, even till the Death of the King, continually mixing Tears with Blood, which he gave to the revenge of his dearest _Agnes_.

Such was the deplorable End of the unfortunate Love of _Don Pedro_ of _Portugal_, and of the fair _Agnes de Castro_, whose Remembrance he faithfully preserv'd in his Heart, even upon the Throne, to which he mounted by the Right of his Birth, after the Death of the King.

THE HISTORY OF THE NUN; OR, THE FAIR VOW-BREAKER.

INTRODUCTION.

In the Epistle Dedicatory to Antony Hammond, Esq., of Somersham-Place, prefacing that pathetic tragedy, _The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery_[1] (4to, 1694), Southerne writes: 'I took the Hint of the Tragical part of this Play from a Novel of Mrs. _Behn's_, call'd _The Fair Vow-Breaker_; you will forgive me for calling it a Hint, when you find I have little more than borrow'd the Question, how far such a Distress was to be carry'd, upon the Misfortune of a Woman's having innocently two Husbands, at the same time'.

In the many collected editions of Mrs. Behn's popular novels and histories, from the first, published under the auspices of Gildon in 1696, to the ninth (2 vols, 12mo, London, 1751), there appears, however, no such novel as _The Fair Vow-Breaker_, but on the other hand all contain _The Nun; or, the Perjur'd Beauty_. For over two hundred years then, critics, theatrical historians, bibliographers alike have laid down that _The Fair Vow-Breaker_ is merely another t.i.tle for _The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty_, and that it is to this romance we must look for the source of Southerne's tragedy. The slight dissimilarity of name was truly of no great account. On the t.i.tle-page of another novel we have _The Fair Jilt; or, The History of Prince Tarquin and Miranda_; on the half-t.i.tle of the same _The Fair Hypocrite; or, The Amours of Prince Tarquin and Miranda_ (12mo, 1688). And so Thomas Evans in the preface to his edition of Southerne (3 vols, 1774), writing the dramatist's life, says: 'the plot by the author's confession is taken from a novel of Mrs.

Behn's called _The Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_'. All the modern writers have duly, but wrongly, accepted this; and Miss Charlotte E.

Morgan in her monograph, _The English Novel till 1749_, informs us in more than one place that _The Fair Vow-Breaker_ (12mo, 1689) was the name of the editio princeps of _The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty_.

A crux, however, was soon apparent. Upon investigation it is obvious that the plot of _The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery_ has simply nothing in common with _The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty_. Mrs.

Behn's Ardelia is a mere coquette who through her trifling with three different men is responsible for five deaths: her lovers', Elvira's, and her own. Isabella, Southerne's heroine, on the other hand, falls a sad victim to the machinations of Carlos, her wicked brother-in-law. She is virtuous and constant; Ardelia is a jade capable of heartless treachery.

Both novel and play end tragically it is true, but from entirely different motives and in a dissimilar manner. There is no likeness between them.

Whence then did Southerne derive his plot, and what exactly did he mean by the statement that he owed 'the Hint of the Tragical part' of his drama to a novel of Mrs. Behn's?

Professor Paul Hamelius of Liege set out to solve the difficulty, and in a scholarly article (_Modern Language Review_, July, 1909), he marshals the facts and seeks a solution. 'Among her [Mrs. Behn's] collected novels'[2] he writes 'there is one ent.i.tled _The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty_ and Mr. Gosse has kindly informed me that the story is identical with _The Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_ which appears in the editio princeps of 1689 (inaccessible to me).' Unfortunately he can find no a.n.a.logy and is obliged to draw attention to other sources. He points to _The Virgin Captive_, the fifth story in Roger L'Estrange's _The Spanish Decameron_ (1687). Again: there is the famous legend of the lovers of Teruel as dramatized in 1638 by Juan Perez de Montalvan, _Los Amantes de Teruel_. An earlier comedia exists on the same subject written by A. Rey de Artieda, 1581, and yet another play by Tirso de Molina, 1635, based on Artieda. Hamelius was obviously not satisfied with his researches, and with a half-suggestion that Southerne may have merely intended to pay a compliment to his 'literary friend Mrs. Behn,' his conclusion is that 'the question is naturally still open whether Southerne was not drawing from some more immediate source--possibly even from some lost version of the story by Mrs. Behn herself.'

In the course of my preparing the present edition of Mrs. Behn's complete works, Mr. Gosse, adding yet another to innumerable kindnesses and encouragements, entrusted me with a little volume[3] from his private library: _The History of the Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_ (12mo, 1689, Licensed 22 October, 1688), and I soon found this to be the immediate source of Southerne's tragedy, a totally different novel from _The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty_, and one, moreover, which has never till now been included in any edition of Mrs. Behn's works or, indeed, reprinted in any form. It were superfluous to compare novel and tragedy detail by detail. Many striking, many minor points are the same in each.

In several instances the nomenclature has been preserved. The chief divergence is, of course, the main catastrophe. Mrs. Behn's execution could ill have been represented on the boards, and Southerne's heroine, the victim of villainies and intrigue, is, it must be confessed, an infinitely more pathetic figure than guilty Isabella in the romance.

The story of a man returning after long absence and finding his spouse (or betrothed) wedded to another, familiarized to the generality of modern readers by Tennyson's _Enoch Arden_, occurs in every shape and tongue. No. 69 of _Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_ is _L'Honneste femme a Deux Maris_.[4] A more famous exemplar we have in the _Decameron_, Day IV, Novella 8, whose rubric runs: 'Girolamo ama la Salvestra: va, costretto da' prieghi della madre, a Parigi: torna, e truovala maritata: entrale di nascoso in casa, e muorle allato; e portato in una chiesa, muore la Salvestra allata a lui.'

Scenes of the amusing underplot of _The Fatal Marriage_ which contain some excellent comedy, Southerne took directly from _The Night Walker; or, The Little Thief_ (printed as Fletcher's in 1640 and 'corrected by s.h.i.+rley' in 1633 according to Herbert's license). The purgatorial farce may be traced to the _Decameron_, Day III, 8. 'Ferondo, mangiata certa polvere, e sotterrato per morto: e dall' abate, chi la moglie di lui si G.o.de, tratto dalla sepoltura, e messo in prigione e fattogli credere, che egli e in purgatoro; e poi risuscitato . . .' It is the _Feronde; ou, le Purgatoire_ of La Fontaine.

_The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery_ long kept the stage.[5]

On 2 December, 1757, Garrick's version, which omitting the comic relief weakens and considerably shortens the play, was produced at Drury Lane with himself as Biron and Mrs. Cibber as Isabella. The actual name of the tragedy, however, was not changed to _Isabella_ till some years after. Mrs. Barry, the original Isabella, was acknowledged supreme in this tragedy, and our greatest actresses, Mrs. Porter, Mrs. Crawford, Miss Young, Mrs. Siddons, Miss O'Neill, have all triumphed in the role.

[Footnote 1: This has nothing to do with Scarron's novel, _L'