University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

SCENE, A French Pavilion.
Princess, and Charlot.
Princess.
O, Charlot! how will this new Tryal shake me!
What shall I do to arm my threaten'd Mind
Against th'Assaults of Madness?—Tyrant Duty!
Why are thy Laws so binding?—If Obedience
Must thus be blind, then, sure! Command shou'd see
With Eagle-Ey'd Discernment!—Unkingly Father!
As if, to offer me, were Shame too gentle,
Curse on the blushful Thought!—I'll go to meet him!
Meanly obtrude my self upon his Scorn,
And hear the Bargain of my Price debated!
Is this to be a Princess? Perish Pride!
Oh let my base Example teach the Humble,
How happy 'tis to stand below Ambition.

Char.
Were my poor Counsell worthy Your Attention,
There's yet a Way, perhaps, to move the King;
His Tenderness is Equal to his Fear,
And may be mov'd to counterpoize Your Danger:
Disclose, with speaking Tears, the fatal Secret;
Tell him, how All Your Heart, already fill'd,
Has Room for no new Comer.

Prin.
Art thou mad?
That were a dreadful Means to wound me deeper:
The Pride of State wou'd then new-fire his Anger,
And I, by Force, driv'n on, to wed this Monster,
This fighting Dæmon in the Dress of Royalty!
Shou'd lose all Hope once more to see the Stranger,
The lovely, unknown, Conqueror!—whose Addresses,
Whose, not to be describ'd, unnam'd, Perfections,
Twelve long Months since first charm'd my list'ning Soul,
Spite of unequal Birth, to wish him mine,
And even tho' hated England gave him Being.

Char.
There I have something new, to warm Your Hope with:
Led, by kind Chance, among the shining Train
Of English Youth, who came with Exeter,
Occasion gave me Scope to form some Questions,
Which past as an unmeaning Love of Novelty:
I ask'd what Cavalier, some twelve Months since,
Glitt'ring with Gems, outshone by his Behaviour,
Came with the Earl of Westmorland to France;
Was call'd his Nephew, thrice appear'd at Court,
Then vanish'd, on Pretence of further Travel:
By this Description, All, at once, agreed,
That Owen Tudor was the Person meant;
And lavish'd Hours of Rhetoric in his Praises.

Prin.
Alas! did I not know all This before?
England boasts no such Charmer, but her Tudor!
This is not, what I hop'd, from thy Beginning.

Char.
I further learnt, that Tudor's Birth is such,
As may entitle Him to Royal Love;
That fear'd Objection is of Force no longer,
When Your great Father shall perceive Your Flame,
Burning, undimn'd, for an Imperial Off-spring,
Deriv'd from a long Line of Britain's Kings.

Prin.
Ay! this indeed strikes Lustre thro' my Sorrows!
There's Promise in this Hope—O! gentle Charlot!
Secret, as Death, conceal the dear Intelligence,
As a last Prop to my endanger'd Passion:
Now, will I boldly meet this Champion Lover!
This courtly Sir—who woo's in War, and Thunder!
Enter Dauphin.
So, Brother, will the King consent to spare me?
Or must I stoop to see this shamefull Interview?

Dau.
You must excite Your Spirits to Your Aid,
And bid a bold Defyance to Your Blushes;
I've try'd all Arts, in vain, that Reason teaches.
Come!—I must guide You to the Lists of Love,
And You must teach Your Charms new Ways of Wounding:
The King will have Your Beauty take the Field,
And does not fear, he says, but You can conquer!—
Him, whom our Armies fly from, You must face.

Prin.
Yes—I will go; but not, as He expects me,
I'll face this Foe of France; like France's Daughter!
The Woes of Ruin overtake those Reptiles,
Whose dronish Souls, bent under Age, or Fear,
Have thus misled their Master!—Yes, my Eyes
Shall dart keen Glances—but the Wounds, they give,
Shall be of Shame, not Love—

[A Trumpet sounds.
Dau.

[Exeunt.