University of Virginia Library

Scene 3.

The Scene. The French Kings Tent in the French Camp, in which appears Lewis the XIV. The Dauphin, The Prince of Conde, Monsieur Lovis, The Duke d'Chartres, Monsieur Vauban, and other Officers.
K. of France.
When will my thirst of Glory find a Period?
Since I have aim'd at Universal Monarchy,
A restless thought still raging in my Breast,
Makes my Days irksom, and my Nights unquiet:
Whole Provinces already I've laid desolate,
And where so e're I stretcht my Conquering Arms,
In Blood and Ruins I make good my Title.

Lovis.
By this, great Sir, your Empire you enlarge.

K. F.
'Tis my Ambition Lovis to be great;
Men of my rank do seldom think of dying:
But 'tis methinks a kind of satisfaction,
When after Ages seeing Towns destroy'd,
Shall say, that Lewis made that Desolation.
Does Mons yet still persist in Obstinacy?

Dauphin.
'Tis the old stubborn Town it ever was;
They nothing want to make a brisk Defence.

K. F.
Vauban you nicely have survey'd the place.
Where lyes it's chiefest strength, and where it's weakness?

M. Vauban.
Great Sir, I must confess their Forts are built
By the strict rules of modern Architecture,
Their Bastions strong, their Horn-works regular,
Their Ramparts good, and the deep Moats and Ditches
Add no small strength to the distressed Town.
Four Days your Royal Troops have Mons beleagur'd,
And if my skill in War does not deceive me,
Before the Sun six times goes round the Globe,
The place will yield to your victorious Arms.

K. F.
It shall,—the mighty Lewis says it shall,
If force compel not, then I use my Gold;
No triffling Sum I've brought to give the Souldiers,
Who shall be taken notice of in Battel,
To give the best assurance of their Valour,
Besides some greater Sum for private Service;
I have my Friends in Mons as well as Philip.
Lovis, here, take the Gold (gives a Purse,)
and send it quickly
By some bold lusty Officer of yours
In a Deserters habit to the Town,
And to the Abbotts Grimchi and Vaneufe,
Commend my Love, and tell 'em I'm their Friend;
Let this old Gold express my secret meaning,
The best the Language of my Presents know.

Lovis.
I fly, dread Sir, to execute your Pleasure.
[Exit Lovis.]

Enter Luxemburgh, Bouffleers, &c.
K. F.
How goes the Siege, my Lords? You seem concern'd;
I read some strange confusion in your Faces.

Luxem.
Think not, great Sir, that fear or Cowardize,
Makes us thus wear this sadness on our looks;
To both we're strangers.—'Tis the great concern
We bear to your Majestick Reputation,
Which we suspect will find some Diminution.
In the Attempts upon the stubborn Mons.

F. K.
Have I selected out from all my Troops
The choicest Men, and brought my houshold Guards
Gens d' Arms, Light-horse, and such a Train of Cannon
T'oppose one stubborn Town? and am I baffl'd?
By all the Saints our holy Church adores,
I swear that no expence of Men or Mony
Shall e're be wanting to reduce the Place.

Bouffl.
Great Sir, the Souldiers in your Royal Army
Behave themselves with an uncommon Brav'ry;
But there is no defence against our Fate.

F. K.
Talk not of Fate to me; my Lord, I tell you
Lover-rule her closest laid Designs;
And have her at my beck;—nay more, command her;
And notwithstanding these cross Accidents,
Am certain, that before few days are ended,
This Town of Mons will own me for her Master.
To you Rubenton (speaking to him)
our old trusty Servant,
We give the Government of this Conquer'd City
When e're it falls into Our Royal Hands;
Mean while, you Luxemburgh, Bouffleers, and all
My Officers relating to the Siege,
Open the Trenches, use your utmost force,
To make the Town comply; but if it still
Resists my Arms,—by all the Gods I swear,
Within their streets I'le lay a Scene of Blood
Shall make their Dwellings horrible to Nature.
I will—my Lords, St. Guistan is my Quarters,
Where I with ease refresh my self, still waiting
When the glad News arrives that Mons is taken;
Then with a Grandeur like my self I enter,
As did my Predecessor Julius Cæsar
Along the streets of Rome; for 'tis resolv'd,
Mons shall submit and own my Regal Power,
Or sudden ruine shall the Globe devour.

[Exit with his Train.]
Manent, Luxemburgh and Bouffleers.
Luxemb.
It shall submit—for so our Sovereign swears,
I wish it may, but when I make Reflections
With what true Courage they defend the Town,
I know not what to think.—

Bouffl.
—Besides my Lord,
The Prince of Orange at the Hague, is raising
A numerous Army of pickt chosen Souldiers
To raise the Siege, or else to give us Battel.

Luxemb.
All actions when t'extremity reduc'd
Require our nicest prudence; we no time
For long set-Speeches and Debates can spare;
It must be Action terminates the War.—

[Exeunt Ambo.]