University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

GONDIBERT and BIRTHA.
Gondibert.
You come, my Birtha, like the op'ning East,
Half strow'd with Blushes, and half drest in Smiles.
When thou art absent Darkness broods around,
And Melancholy spreads her baleful Wing:
But now my Sun of Beauty gilds the Gloom,
To bless my Eyes and cheer my Heart with Gladness.
For, oh, believe me, I am ne'er so happy
As when I hang dissolving o'er thy Beauties,
As when I pour my Soul upon thy Lips,
As when I languish, languish on thy Bosom,
And, oh, as when I sink into thy Arms
And lose myself in Softness and in Love.

Birtha.
If I can make you happy, sure, my Lord,
'Tis my first Duty to attend your Pleasure,
Since you neglect the Court and all its Pomp
For Love and me; for so you please to honour
The humble Daughter of your poor, old Friend,
And condescend to dignify our Shades.

Gondibert.
These rural Shades are the best Friends of Love.
From Palaces He flies, and Midnight Balls,
To revel in the Myrtles and the Groves.
Here, here I found Him panting on thy Breast,
And envy'd Him so fair, so soft a Throne.
Oh, what are Courts to Shades possess'd of Thee,
Thou darling of my Soul! I joy more in Thee,
Than high Ambition in its darling Purpose.

Birtha.
Like a young Flow'r, o'ercharg'd with balmy Dew,
I sink beneath th'Abundance of your Kindness,
For I have nothing to return but Love.

Gondibert.
I swear, my Fair, by thy dearself I swear,
By that inchanting Smile, by every Grace,
(And every Grace is thine) thy Love is more,
Thy Love is doubly more than Worlds to me.
Tho' Nature offer'd all her Treasures up,
Her Spices, Gold, and Gems to buy my Faith,
I'd dash Them to the Earth in Scorn, and fly,
Quick as a Turtle's Wing, into thy Bosom,
There brood and murmur, there sigh out my Soul,
There find a sweeter, richer, brighter World.

Birtha.
Sure Nature form'd me softer than my Sex:
Or else to make me worthier of my Heroe,
She fil'd the ruder Particles away
Which render us malicious, wayward, proud,
And melted all my Passions into Love.
Love forms alone my Heart; for oh! I feel,
At every tender Word you speak, my Heart
Flows at the Sound, and all dissolve within me.

Gondibert.
Sure thou art fairer, brighter than thy Sex;
For while I gaze upon Thee, all my Spirits,
Shoot to my Eyes, and press their Beams on thine.
Nature has cast thee in a Mold of Heav'n:
Such shining Beings, in the Midnight Hours,
When Slumbers wave their fleecy Gold around us,
Steal from their lucid Spheres to bless our Dreams,
And, hovering, prompt the willing Mind to Virtue.
We bless their Goodness, and almost adore Them.

Birtha.
O may the Hours for ever smile like this!
For ever let me glory in your Love.—
But who is yon that moves this Way? my Father?

Gondibert.
'Tis He: I know Him by his reverend Port.
Yet mark Him well; He seems immerst in Thought.
Now with unequal Steps He measures o'er
The level Green of yonder Walks; now stands,
As if that Motion had forgot its Office,
And with a steady Eye-Ball gains on Heaven,
Till Contemplation have her fill. Whate're
Employ his Thoughts, 'tis for the good of Man.

Birtha.
He moves, and looks this Way.

Gondibert.
Thou art so good,
From Heav'n to Thee is but a small Transition.
—I'll meet Him, and acquaint Him with our Passion.
I hope He'll pity us, and crown our Wishes.
Retire behind You breathing Sycamores,
And, when he's gone, I'll meet and tell Thee all.

[Exit Birtha.
Gondibert Solus.
[Gondibert.]
May soft Persuasion arm my Tongue to move Him,
And all the tender Eloquence of Love!
May Paphian Honey melt in every Accent
And steal into his Soul.—Hear, O ye Gods!
Make me but happy in the Maid I doat on,
In beauteous Birtha, and a Spring of Incense
Shall roll away in Odours from your Altars.