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 Assassins 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 bloody 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 Assassins, 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 title 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 title-page of another novel we have The Fair Jilt; or, The History of Prince Tarquin and Miranda; on the half-title 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?