Tancred and Sigismunda A Tragedy |
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 | Tancred and Sigismunda |  |
SCENE VI.
Tancred. Sigismunda.Tancred.
My fluttering Soul was all on Wing to find Thee,
My Love! my Sigismunda!
Sigismunda.
O my Tancred!
Tell me, what means this Mystery and Gloom
That lowrs around? Just now, involv'd in Thought
My Father shot athwart me—You, my Lord,
Seem strangely mov'd—I fear some dark Event
From the King's Death to trouble our Repose,
That tender Calm we in the Woods of Belmont
So happily enjoy'd—Explain this Hurry,
What means it? Say.
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It means that we are happy!
Beyond our most romantic Wishes happy!
Sigismunda.
You but perplex me more.
Tancred.
It means, my Fairest!
That thou art Queen of Sicily; and I
The happiest of Mankind! than Monarch more!
Because with Thee I can adorn my Throne.
Manfred, who fell by Tyrant William's Rage,
Fam'd Roger's lineal Issue, was my Father.
[pausing.
That thou art Queen of Sicily; and I
The happiest of Mankind! than Monarch more!
Because with Thee I can adorn my Throne.
Manfred, who fell by Tyrant William's Rage,
Fam'd Roger's lineal Issue, was my Father.
You droop, my Love; dejected on a sudden;
You seem to mourn my Fortune—The soft Tear
Springs in thy Eye—O let me kiss it off—
Why this, my Sigismunda?
You seem to mourn my Fortune—The soft Tear
Springs in thy Eye—O let me kiss it off—
Why this, my Sigismunda?
Sigismunda.
Royal Tancred,
None at your glorious Fortune can like me
Rejoice;—yet me alone, of all Sicilians,
It makes unhappy.
Tancred.
I should hate it then!
Should throw, with Scorn, the splendid Ruin from me!—
No, Sigismunda, 'tis my Hope with Thee
To share it, whence it draws it's richest Value.
Sigismunda.
You are my Sovereign—I at humble Distance—
Tancred.
Thou art my Queen! the Sovereign of my Soul!
You never reign'd with such triumphant Luster,
Such winning Charms as now; yet, thou art still
The dear, the tender, generous Sigismunda!
Who, with a Heart exalted far above
Those selfish Views that charm the common Breast,
Stoop'd from the Height of Life and courted Beauty,
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The hopeless Outcast, when I had no Friend,
None to protect and own me but thy Father.
And would'st thou claim all Goodness to thyself?
Canst thou thy Tancred deem so dully form'd,
Of such gross Clay, just as I reach the Point—
A Point my wildest Hopes could never image—
In that great Moment, full of every Virtue,
That I should then so mean a Traytor prove
To the best Bliss and Honour of Mankind,
So much disgrace the human Heart, as then,
For the dead Form of Flattery and Pomp,
The faithless Joys of Courts, to quit kind Truth,
The cordial Sweets of Friendship and of Love,
The Life of Life! my All, my Sigismunda!
I could upbraid thy Fears, call them unkind,
Cruel, unjust, an Outrage to my Heart,
Did they not spring from Love.
Sigismunda.
Think not, my Lord,
That to such vulgar Doubts I can descend.
Your Heart, I know, disdains the little Thought
Of changing with the vain external Change
Of Circumstance and Fortune. Rather thence
It would, with rising Ardor, greatly feel
A noble Pride to shew itself the same.
But, ah! the Hearts of Kings are not their own.
There is a haughty Duty that subjects them
To Chains of State, to wed the publick Welfare,
And not indulge the tender private Virtues.
Some high-descended Princess, who will bring
New Power and Interest to your Throne demands
Your royal Hand—perhaps Constantia—
Tancred.
She!
O name her not! Were I this Moment free,
And disengag'd as he who never felt
The powerful Eye of Beauty, never sigh'd
For matchless Worth like thine, I should abhor
All Thoughts of that Alliance. Her fell Father
Most basely murder'd mine; and she, the Daughter,
Supported by his barbarous Party still,
His Pride inherits, his imperious Spirit,
And insolent Pretensions to my Throne.
And canst thou deem me then so poorly tame,
So cool a Traitor to my Father's Blood,
As from the prudent Cowardice of State
E'er to submit to such a base Proposal?
Detested Thought! O doubly, doubly hateful!
From the two strongest Passions; from Aversion
To this Constantia—and from Love to Thee.
O name her not! Were I this Moment free,
And disengag'd as he who never felt
The powerful Eye of Beauty, never sigh'd
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All Thoughts of that Alliance. Her fell Father
Most basely murder'd mine; and she, the Daughter,
Supported by his barbarous Party still,
His Pride inherits, his imperious Spirit,
And insolent Pretensions to my Throne.
And canst thou deem me then so poorly tame,
So cool a Traitor to my Father's Blood,
As from the prudent Cowardice of State
E'er to submit to such a base Proposal?
Detested Thought! O doubly, doubly hateful!
From the two strongest Passions; from Aversion
To this Constantia—and from Love to Thee.
Custom, 'tis true, a venerable Tyrant,
O'er servile Man extends her blind Dominion:
The Pride of Kings enslaves them; their Ambition,
Or Interest, lords it o'er the better Passions.
But vain their Talk, mask'd under specious Words
Of Station, Duty, and of Public Good:
They whom just Heaven has to a Throne exalted,
To guard the Rights and Liberties of others,
What Duty binds them to betray their own?
For me, my freeborn Heart shall bear no Dictates,
But those of Truth and Honour; wear no Chains,
But the dear Chains of Love and Sigismunda!
Or if indeed my Choice must be directed
By Views of Publick Good, whom shall I chuse
So fit to grace to dignify a Crown,
And beam sweet Mercy on a happy People,
As Thee, my Love? whom place upon my Throne
But Thee, descended from the good Siffredi?
'Tis fit that Heart be thine, which drew from him
Whate'er can make it worthy thy Acceptance.
O'er servile Man extends her blind Dominion:
The Pride of Kings enslaves them; their Ambition,
Or Interest, lords it o'er the better Passions.
But vain their Talk, mask'd under specious Words
Of Station, Duty, and of Public Good:
They whom just Heaven has to a Throne exalted,
To guard the Rights and Liberties of others,
What Duty binds them to betray their own?
For me, my freeborn Heart shall bear no Dictates,
But those of Truth and Honour; wear no Chains,
But the dear Chains of Love and Sigismunda!
Or if indeed my Choice must be directed
By Views of Publick Good, whom shall I chuse
So fit to grace to dignify a Crown,
And beam sweet Mercy on a happy People,
As Thee, my Love? whom place upon my Throne
But Thee, descended from the good Siffredi?
'Tis fit that Heart be thine, which drew from him
Whate'er can make it worthy thy Acceptance.
Sigismunda.
Cease, cease, to raise my Hopes above my Duty.
Charm me no more, my Tancred!—O that We
In those blest Woods, where first you won my Soul,
Had pass'd our gentle Days; far from the Toil
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Of Love, that, with delightful Weakness, knows
No Bliss and no Ambition but itself.
But, in the World's full Light, those charming Dreams,
Those fond Illusions vanish. Awful Duties,
The Tyranny of Men, even your own Heart,
Where lurks a Sense your Passion stifles now,
And proud imperious Honour call you from me.
'Tis all in vain—You cannot hush a Voice
That murmurs here—I must not be persuaded!
Tancred,
kneeling.
Hear me, thou Soul of all my Hopes and Wishes!
And witness, Heaven! Prime Source of Love and Joy!
Not a whole warring World combin'd against me;
It's Pride, it's Splendor, it's imposing Forms,
Nor Interest, nor Ambition, nor the Face
Of solemn State, not even thy Father's Wisdom,
Shall ever shake my Faith to Sigismunda!
[Trumpets and Acclamations heard.
And witness, Heaven! Prime Source of Love and Joy!
Not a whole warring World combin'd against me;
It's Pride, it's Splendor, it's imposing Forms,
Nor Interest, nor Ambition, nor the Face
Of solemn State, not even thy Father's Wisdom,
Shall ever shake my Faith to Sigismunda!
But, hark! the Publick Voice to Duties calls me,
Which with unweary'd Zeal I will discharge;
And Thou, yes Thou, shalt be my bright Reward—
Yet—ere I go—to hush thy lovely Fears,
Thy delicate Objections— [writes his Name.
Take this Blank,
Sign'd with my Name, and give it to thy Father:
Tell him 'tis my Command, it be fill'd up
With a most strict and solemn Marriage-Contract.
How dear each Tie! how charming to my Soul!
That more unites me to my Sigismunda.
For thee and for my People's Good to live,
Is all the Bliss which sovereign Power can give.
Which with unweary'd Zeal I will discharge;
And Thou, yes Thou, shalt be my bright Reward—
Yet—ere I go—to hush thy lovely Fears,
Thy delicate Objections— [writes his Name.
Take this Blank,
Sign'd with my Name, and give it to thy Father:
Tell him 'tis my Command, it be fill'd up
With a most strict and solemn Marriage-Contract.
How dear each Tie! how charming to my Soul!
That more unites me to my Sigismunda.
For thee and for my People's Good to live,
Is all the Bliss which sovereign Power can give.
| Tancred and Sigismunda | |