from beholding fictitious sorrow, the audience of the metropolis had been for many years deprived, by the want of skilful tragedians, when she appeared,—she enchanted all the town by her "well painted passion," and established in the dramatic world, the long lost prerogative of sighs and tears.

The characters which surround Isabella, are merely placed there by the author, to give effect to all she says and does. Insignificant as those personages are in themselves, they produce with her so happy a combination, that a most powerful tragedy is the result of their joint services.

Beyond the deepest pain, felt by an audience for Isabella's grief, there is a pang almost insupportable, which proceeds from her gratitude. The author has in no part of the tragedy more effectually wrung the hearts of those, who possess nice sensibility, than where this poor widow is overcome by kindness, to render herself additionally wretched, rather than be ungrateful.

"This generosity will ruin me.”- "I am contented to be miserable, but not this way." These are sentences more pathetic to those, who feel acutely the weight of obligations, than any she pronounces.

Those very auditors are equally vivid in their sensations towards her faults, as her virtues; and shrink from the unjustifiable manner with which she treats men who come to demand their right; calling them 66 'rav'ning bloodhounds." A character, only half as amiable as the author meant her to appear, could not conduct herself towards her creditors, but with the most profound respect. Indeed was Isabella

largely indebted to any one amongst these men, and had not the means of payment,-moral argument, perhaps, could prove, she was bound as much in honour to marry him for value received, as to marry Villeroy.

This play is censured by some critics for its comic scenes; the tragic are so much superior, they want more of the last, and none of the first. But, more of Isabella, exquisite as she is, might cause satiety. The author in his work has given variety, and that variegated scene which nature gives.

Southern wrote no less than ten plays; of which, only this tragedy, and his Oroonoko, are remembered to the author's reputation.

He lived to the age of eighty-eight, and passed his latter days in retired serenity, having acquired, by his industry and strict economy, a considerable fortune. He was the first who increased the advantage of dramatic authors, by obtaining, in addition to the first, a second and third night for their emolument. He also raised the price of prologues, having given seven guineas to Dryden, on his demand of that sum, for a prologue, which, till then, had only been rated at five*. These occurrences gave occasion to the following lines of Pope: -Southern, born to raise,

66

The price of prologues and of plays."

* Johnson says only three. Cibber says seven was given. It has been thought proper here, to name the most dignified

sum.

ISABELLA.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.

Street.

Enter VILLEROY and CARLOS.

Car. This constancy of yours, will establish an immortal reputation among the women.

Vil. If it would establish me with Isabella

Car. Follow her, follow her: Troy town was won at last.

Vil. I have follow'd her these seven years, and now but live in hopes.

Car. But live in hopes! Why, hope is the ready road, the lover's baiting place; and for aught you know, but one stage short of the possession of your mistress.

Vil. But my hopes, I fear, are more of my own making than her's; and proceed rather from my wishes, than any encouragement she has given me.

Car. That I can't tell the sex is very various: there are no certain measures to be prescribed or followed, in making our approaches to the women. All that we have to do, I think, is to attempt them in the weakest part. Press them but hard, and they will all fall under the necessity of a surrender at last. That

favour comes at once; and sometimes when we least expect it.

Vil. I'm going to visit her.

Car. What interest a brother-in-law can have with her depend upon.

Vil. I know your interest, and I thank you.

Car. You are prevented; see the mourner comes : She weeps, as seven years were seven hours;

So fresh, unfading, is the memory

Of my poor brother's, Biron's, death:

I leave you to your opportunity.

[Exit VILLEROY.

Though I have taken care to root her from our house,

I would transplant her into Villeroy's
There is an evil fate that waits upon her,
To which I wish him wedded-only him :
His upstart family, with haughty brow,
(Though Villeroy and myself are seeming friends)
Looks down upon our house; his sister too,
Whose hand I ask'd, and was with scorn refus'd,
Lives in my breast, and fires me to revenge.-
They bend this

way.

Perhaps, at last, she seeks my father's doors;
They shall be shut, and he prepar❜d to give
The beggar and her brat a cold reception.
That boy's an adder in my path-they come,
I'll stand apart, and watch their motions.

[Exit.

Enter VILLEROY and ISABELLA, with her Child.
Isa. Why do you follow me? you know I am
A bankrupt every way; too far engag'd

Ever to make return: I own you have been
More than a brother to me, my friend:

And at a time when friends are found no more,
A friend to my misfortunes.

Vil. I must be

Always your friend.

Isa. I have known, and found you