SCENE I.--_A Room in_ D'AMVILLE'S _Mansion.

_A_ Servant _sleeping, with lights and money before him. Music._

_Enter_ D'AMVILLE.

_D'Am._ What, sleep'st thou?

_Ser._ [_Awaking_] No, my lord. Nor sleep nor wake; But in a slumber troublesome to both.

_D 'Am._ Whence comes this gold?

_Ser._ 'Tis part of the revenue Due to your lordship since your brother's death.

_D'Am._ To bed. Leave me my gold.

_Ser._ And me my rest. Two things wherewith one man is seldom blest. [_Exit._

_D'Am._ Cease that harsh music. We are not pleased with it. [_He handles the gold._ Here sounds a music whose melodious touch Like angels' voices ravishes the sense. Behold, thou ignorant astronomer Whose wandering speculation seeks among The planets for men's fortunes, with amazement Behold thine error and be planet-struck. These are the stars whose operations make The fortunes and the destinies of men. Yon lesser eyes of Heaven (like subjects raised Into their lofty houses, when their prince Rides underneath the ambition of their loves) Are mounted only to behold the face Of your more rich imperious eminence With unprevented sight. Unmask, fair queen. [_Unpurses the gold._ Vouchsafe their expectations may enjoy The gracious favour[174] they admire to see. These are the stars, the ministers of Fate, And man's high wisdom the superior power To which their forces are subordinate. [_Sleeps._

_Enter the_ Ghost _of_ MONTFERRERS.

_Mont._ D'Amville! With all thy wisdom th'art a fool. Not like those fools that we term innocents, But a most wretched miserable fool Which instantly, to the confusion of Thy projects, with despair thou shalt behold. [_Exit_ Ghost.

_D'Am._ [_Starting up._] What foolish dream dares interrupt my rest To my confusion? How can that be, since My purposes have hitherto been borne With prosperous judgment to secure success, Which nothing lives to dispossess me of But apprehended[175] Charlemont. And him This brain has made the happy instrument To free suspicion, to annihilate All interest and title of his own To seal up my assurance, and confirm My absolute possession by the law. Thus while the simple, honest worshipper Of a fantastic providence, groans under The burthen of neglected misery, My real wisdom has raised up a state That shall eternise my posterity.

_Enter_ Servant _with the body of_ SEBASTIAN.

What's that?

_Ser._ The body of your younger son, Slain by the Lord Belforest.

_D'Am._ Slain! You lie! Sebastian! Speak, Sebastian! He's lost His hearing. A physician presently. Go, call a surgeon.

_Rous._ O--oh! [_Within._

_D'Am._ What groan was that? How does my elder son? The sound came from His chamber.

_Ser._ He went sick to bed, my lord.

_Rous._ O--oh! [_Within._

_D'Am._ The cries of mandrakes never touched the ear With more sad horror than that voice does mine.

_Enter_ a Servant _running._

_Ser._ Never you will see your son alive--

_D'Am._ Nature forbid I e'er should see him dead. [_A bed drawn forth with_ ROUSARD _on it._ Withdraw the curtains. O how does my son?

_Ser._ Methinks he's ready to give up the ghost.

_D'Am._ Destruction take thee and thy fatal tongue. Dead! where's the doctor?--Art not thou the face Of that prodigious apparition stared upon Me in my dream?

_Ser._ The doctor's come, my lord.

_Enter_ Doctor.

_D'Am._ Doctor, behold two patients in whose cure Thy skill may purchase an eternal fame. If thou'st any reading in Hippocrates, Galen, or Avicen; if herbs, or drugs, Or minerals have any power to save, Now let thy practice and their sovereign use Raise thee to wealth and honour.

_Doct._ If any root of life remains within 'em Capable of physic, fear 'em not, my lord.

_Rous._ O--oh!

_D'Am._ His gasping sighs are like the falling noise Of some great building when the groundwork breaks. On these two pillars stood the stately frame And architecture of my lofty house. An earthquake shakes 'em. The foundation shrinks. Dear Nature, in whose honour I have raised A work of glory to posterity, O bury not the pride of that great action Under the fall and mine of itself.

_Doct._ My lord, these bodies are deprived of all The radical ability of Nature. The heat of life is utterly extinguished. Nothing remains within the power of man That can restore them.

_D'Am._ Take this gold, extract The spirit of it, and inspire new life Into their bodies.

_Doct._ Nothing can, my lord.

_D'Am._ You ha' not yet examined the true state And constitution of their bodies. Sure You ha' not. I'll reserve their waters till The morning. Questionless, their urines will Inform you better.

_Doct._ Ha, ha, ha!

_D'Am._ Dost laugh, Thou villain? Must my wisdom that has been The object of men's admiration now Become the subject of thy laughter?

_Rou._ O--oh! [_Dies._

_All._ He's dead.

_D'Am._ O there expires the date Of my posterity! Can nature be So simple or malicious to destroy The reputation of her proper memory? She cannot. Sure there is some power above Her that controls her force.

_Doct._ A power above Nature? Doubt you that, my lord? Consider but Whence man receives his body and his form. Not from corruption like some worms and flies, But only from the generation of A man. For Nature never did bring forth A man without a man; nor could the first Man, being but the passive subject, not The active mover, be the maker of Himself. So of necessity there must Be a superior power to Nature.

_D'Am._ Now to myself I am ridiculous. Nature, thou art a traitor to my soul. Thou hast abused my trust. I will complain To a superior court to right my wrong. I'll prove thee a forger of false assurances. In yon Star Chamber thou shalt answer it. Withdraw the bodies. O the sense of death Begins to trouble my distracted soul. [_Exeunt._