 | Heroick Friendship |  |
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
SCENE a Wilderness upon the Side of a River, with Ships on it.Enter Claudia.
Claud.
The Night was Still as Nature never were,
But Hopes and Fears to Chaos turn'd my Soul,
Oh Love! thou great, thou rash resistless God!
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Before the Flow'rs are open'd to the Sun,
Or the Dew driven from the Weeping Trees;
I'm here, regardless of my Fame and Safety,
To seek the Prince, and tempt e'en his denyal.
Remorseless Gods! I shudder at the Thought
Almost to madness—yet I can't go back.
Ha! as I live and love, the Hero comes,
This way alone, and musing on the Ground:
Where's Madoc now that promis'd to assist me,
The lazy Wizzard's dreaming o'er the Scheme,
And leaves me to the hardest part: I must
Withdraw a while to still my trembling Soul.
[Retires.
Enter Guiderius.
Guid.
'Tis done! the mighty long'd for Bliss is over,
And I must back to die.
Now let me ask, thou fond, thou mad Guiderius,
What hast thou gain'd, but to be more a Wretch?
This Night, this Night, Words cannot paint my Joys;
Nor, now they're past, my Horror half express.
But oh Aurosia! What's in Life or Death
Now thou art in the Scale? thy lasting Woes,
Now thou art at my Heart? my self is trivial
Ev'n to my self: Oh! thou art doom'd, my Soul,
To worse than Death, a Life of bitter Anguish;
Which soon, nay, by my Pangs, is now begun.
Yes, when attir'd, I told her I must go,
As if some God had whisper'd my Intent,
A cloudy Paleness flew all o'er her Face,
And down she breathless sunk upon the Floor;
But then inhuman! base! How cou'd I so forsake her?
Heav'ns how? Some Frenzy, surely had possess'd me,
In Honours Name, to think it an Advantage;
Can I not now go back, at least to Comfort her?
Yet oh! her Voice regain'd, how shall I part?
And then my Friend—oh Love! oh cruel Honour!
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Her wounding Grief too weighty to be born,
And with her fix'd, her ruddy watry Eyes,
Which languishing accuse me to my self
Commands my longer stay; I must obey her,
For my peirc'd Heart will know no other Thought.
Why, why Aurosia, doest thou still pursue me,
And why this form in Grief? you do not well,
To make me thus neglect appointed Time,
Which now calls louder on me to be gone;
Consider, 'tis but for a Day we part.
Enter Aurosia supported by two Women.
Aur.
It is for ever! Yes thou goest do die;
And did not stronger Circumstance convince me,
Yet there is something in thy Words and Actions,
As tells me I shall never see thee more.
Guid.
A Childish Fancy, Did'st thou Faint at this?
Aur.
No, no, at something which confirms that Fancy;
Your Soul, your Soul, cannot deceive it self:
This Morning at the first approach of Light,
Scarce had Sleep seiz'd on our unwilling Eyes,
But mine was broke by an amazing Noise;
I sought for you, but you had left my Side,
And in the Room was walking in your Sleep:
You swiftly turn'd about your Head, your Hands,
Had all the Motions of distracted Talk;
At length you stood and paus'd, then with a start,
You threw your dreaming Body into Bed,
And with a groaning Sigh, which seem'd to burst
The stretching Strings of Life; thus wildly said,
Yes I must leave her, leave my kind Aurosia,
The Morning that attends my bridal Night,
Parts us for ever; here your Rebel Breath,
Wou'd not obey your forming Tongue, but rush'd
Imperfect forth, Intrails of Stormy Sighs,
You wak'd, I took you to my trembling Bosom,
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Had strangely troubled you, and as a Dream,
The Thought of it was lost in following Fondness.
Guid.
Let never Mortal think himself secure
In secret Faults, while his vain bubling Fancy
Has Pow'r to speak, when overlooking Reason,
Lies with his Body in unknowing Sleep.
Aur.
You are displeas'd as if I knew too much,
Then it is so; it is your Silence owns it,
And I no longer doubt my dreaded Ruin.
Guid.
Since you will tear the Secret from my Heart,
Know I this very Day, must loose my Head.
Aur.
This very Day! that peircing sounds my Fate,
It cuts off all that's good from hopeful Life,
And points me only Death, a Refuge from long Misery.
But how are you thus trusted with your Life?
Where are the Guards that follow Men condemn'd?
Fain wou'd I, if I cou'd, yet hope 'tis better.
Guid.
I've left a Friend I prize above my Life
A Bond for my return.
He wears my Chains; 'tis him my Guards attend,
And he, if I shou'd fail the time prefix'd,
Which all that's Just forbid! must for me die.
Aur.
This is a Friend indeed, sure I shou'd know him.
Guid.
'Tis Decimus.
Aur.
Love thou'rt no more, oh my despairing Soul!
Guiderius fain, before we part for ever,
Fain wou'd I know, oh do not fear to speak,
For Rage shall rise no more; fain wou'd I hear
Some Reason, some Excuse, for my strange Wrongs.
Guid.
I know no Reason; you may call it Love!
No, rather call it Madness, Folly, Villainy!
Or name it from my Conscious stinging Thoughts,
And make the Term too Hellish for Expression.
Aur.
[Aside ...]
Now by my pitying Soul, which akes to Pardon him,
There's something in that haughty sullen Sadness,
More sensible than in relenting Tears. [... Aside]
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I think it inconsiderate Fondness only,
As such forgive it, and with Love unbated,
I resolve to live and die with thee.
Guid.
What do'st thou mean to die and yet forgive me;
Me, me, the Cause of such compelling Sorrows?
Oh! Torturing Goodness; Curse me, Curse me rather,
With something strangely damning on my Head:
Let me have Life, and let me have my Senses;
Let me be driven from the Race of Reason;
For all its Scorn and Curses will but hinder
The close Pursuit of my more dreadful Conscience:
Let me to some inhospitable Land,
Cruel as thou art Kind, there think alone;
Or if with Mortals, suffer just Destruction.
Aur.
No more, no more, this Penitence is racking,
I cannot bear it. Oh my Lord! my Love!
Let us, if you will bless me, speak no more
Of what's past; but Husband what is left;
O Let's with speed to rocky Desarts fly,
To unfrequented Shades or lonely Roofs;
There hide us, till this low'ring Storm of Tyranny
Be blown away; till Fortune's weary grown,
Repents his Malice, and assists our Love;
Why do'st thou doubt my Wit, or Strength, or Will?
Who knows but Happiness may there be met,
Tho' in a poor Array, and inconceiv'd Delights.
Guid.
Forbid it, all ye Pow'rs of Heaven and Earth!
Forbid it God! forbid it Conscience! Reason!
And thou immortal Honour! to whose Source
My living Soul is bent.
Aur.
[Aside ...]
Assist me Nature: Oh! assist me Love,
To drive this Tyrant Honour from his Heart,
And Plant thy sweet, thy easie Statutes there. [... Aside]
Forgive me, since thy Life, thy much lov'd Life,
Was my sole Aim; but now, by thee convinc'd,
Rather by thy Heroick Will inspir'd,
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Thy Soul can shoot at: 'Tis the Hero's Wealth,
The only, and for which the Great are born.
Let grov'ling Mortals, such as thy Aurosia,
In Riches, Love, or Life, their Pleasures place,
Whilst thou triumphant over those Temptations,
In spight of Fate, dar'st keep thy Character.
Guid.
This is too much Aurosia! oh thou canst not,
Thou canst not mean this killing Kindness; no,
By Heav'n it's Artifice.
Aur.
What Artifice? Is not thy Glory mine?
Shall I not be for ever styl'd most Happy?
Above all Women blest! the Bride belov'd
Of him, whose Mortal Mind exceeds Example,
A President for Demy Gods hereafter.
Guid.
Yet by that Honour, by the God of Love,
I swear, 'tis Torment exquisite to part with thee.
To part! why that's my End! that, that alone,
Destroys the Master Principles of Life,
And Death can have no more than worthless leavings:
Then when I'm gone, oh! blame me not Aurosia.
Aur.
I blame thee? no thou Matchless Hero no;
How can I blame thee? Thou, who canst so gloriously
Part with the Arms of Love for those of Death;
And a dear Wife destroy, to save a Friend.
Guid.
No more of that, if thou desirest my Honour.
Aur.
Thou more than Man, thou future Son of Jove,
But one kind Wish, and then adieu for ever;
When the short Tryal of thy Virtue's over,
And thou art rais'd to thy immortal Kindred,
When thou hast gain'd the Glories of the Gods,
And all the Eulogies of Heav'n are thine!
May'st thou ne'er Sighing Curse this forc'd unkindness,
Nor wish thou hadst embrac'd me once at Parting.
Aur.
Say, wou'dst thou have me Vile and most Ungenerous,
Unworthy of thy Fame, or of thy love.
Aur.
I wou'd not.
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Then say no more, least Love with Fame I forfeit;
For shou'd I once more touch thy charming Body,
My Pains to part with it are so encreas'd,
That Friendship, Honour, all that's Just and Sacred,
Wou'd be too Weak to force thee from my Arms.
Aur.
I'll say no more—no more a Blessing hope,
That may thy Honour prejudice—but oh!
If thou desirest quiet ev'n above,
Ne'er cast thy Eyes upon this wretched Earth,
Where thou may'st see thy once belov'd Aurosia,
Confin'd and dragg'd, of ev'ry Help forlorn;
It sticks, I cannot speak the shameful rest,
But thou may'st think it, think it all Guiderius,
This first of Death.
Guid.
The Thought is lightning, it has struck me through
My Soul, my Soul consumes! oh Tyrant Pow'rs,
Deep damning Fortune, execrable Cruel,
I am but Man, I cannot be divided,
I cannot live for one, and die for th'other.
Aur.
You cannot, neither shall you live for me,
But Pardon me, for moving thus your Mind;
I thought your Goddess Honour had secur'd it
From Passions Force, or I had silent been.
Forgive my foolish Fondness, 'tis the last;
And now my Husband! Love! farewel for ever!
For ever! oh the dismal wounding Word!
Were it for Years! for Ages! there were Hopes,
But oh for ever!—killing is the Sound,
As Swords or poison'd Arrows; How it pierces!
Farewel, farewel; for if I longer stay,
I shall not have enough of Life to leave thee.
[Is going.
Guid.
Stay yet a little; since I dare no more,
Let me but Look one tender last Farewel,
To all that e'er was excellently pleasing
To my departing Heart. Do not withdraw,
Still let me Gaze, Gaze my sick Soul away,
If possible, and know no other parting.
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Have you enough, shall I be gone?
Guid.
If Gods your fiercest Vengeance is prepar'd,
For him who kills his Friend to save his Wife,
It must come on me, for I cannot part.
[Embraces.
Aur.
What mean you Sir? oh press me not so close;
Is it to torture me, say cruel Lover,
You thus renew to my dazl'd dying Senses,
The Bliss I loose, to give me double Death.
Guid.
Talk not of Death, for thou art Life, my Life,
And I will hold thee, spight of angry Pow'rs,
Of all the threatning of an angry Conscience,
And the incessant Cries of wounded Honour.
Aur.
No, Honour is the Mistress of your Soul,
Will you neglect her for debasing Life?
For I am such, you say, and can you thus be mine?
Guid.
Thine! only Thine! What have I said, my Tongue
Moves of it self, before my Heart can Guide it;
But I am past recanting: Glory then, farewel;
Glory, thou once bright Aim of all my Soul,
Thou darling Guardian of my springing Years
Farewel, I ne'er will think upon thee more,
This Hour I'll make the utmost bound of Memory,
And all behind, as if before my Birth:
Thou Love, shall to Guiderius Glory be,
As he a Conquest and Renown to thee.
Enter Claudia veil'd.
Guid.
Ha! who art thou!
Claud.
One great in Power, and as good in Will;
One that with Pity has your Passion seen,
And wou'd and can preserve it.
Guid.
Thy Voice I've known, but the Cares of Love
Have overflow'd my Memory; If thou hast Pity,
Our Flight resolv'd, with Secrecy assist,
The only Aid we do of thee require,
So shalt thou make us (loving Wretches) happy;
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Claud.
How vain is your Attempt? can Britain hide you
From dreaded Pow'rs? no, your Disgrace alone
Will change your very Friends to your Destruction.
If you will live, if ye will happy be,
You must in other Lands your Safety seek.
Guid.
O name the Means.
Claud.
Pardon me if it may not be so proper;
The Lady's Absence for a while were well.
Aur.
Oh! how can that avail!
Guid.
Let me but know the End of this.
Aur.
I'll not dispute it, 'twere to doubt thy Virtue;
But I conjure thee by thy Hopes, thy Honour,
By all thou hast, by all that Heav'n can give thee,
No Action to attempt till first I see thee.
Guid.
So may my Fame unbranded be with Baseness,
And Heav'n, when the Pangs of Death are on me,
Dishonour not my Soul.
Aur.
Then you will not forsake me.
Guid.
Can'st thou think it?
Aur.
I have no more to say; oh my new Fears.
[Exit Aurosia.
Claud.
Now turn thy Eyes on the adjoyning River,
Behold that Ship, dancing around its Anchor,
Her Sails unfurl'd, and courted by the Wheather;
Can you believe she stops her Course for you?
For you, delays her dalliance with the Wind,
And shuns the Smiles of an inviting Season.
Guid.
The Eagle on her Banners speak her Roman,
Imperial Rome, the vanquish'd World's Metropolis.
But why for me? where is she Bound?
Claud.
With your rich Presence fraught, young Hero,
The Sea of Joy that Floods it all around,
And Honours Sun which gilds the Gloomy Globe.
Wou'd not the Place fit thy aspiring Nature?
Guid.
Oh I cou'd say as Air to stifled Mortals;
But where will be Respect and Honour there?
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They still attended on Wealth, and that shall be
Thine in the amplest manner; wonder not,
The Misteries I speak with ease are solv'd.
Guid.
If this thou can'st, I sure shall be so far
Indebted to thee, that my utmost Will
Can ne'er repay the Generous Obligation.
Claud.
Methinks I see thee in thy future State,
The Master of a sweet and vast Inheritance,
The Rendevouze of friendly Sense and Jollity,
Splendid thy Dress, and gayly great thy Equipage;
The crowded Circus and the Amphitheater,
Behold thee as their other better Object,
Admir'd and envy'd to a Pattern pleasing.
Guid.
And then the Crown and Center of thy Happiness,
Claud.
Ah! there thou say'st it! that most blest of Woman!
To love her round in all the various Pleasures
Of an Indulging Fortune unmolested:
In downy Perfumes, wrapt and closely laid,
To waste each Night; in rounds of Joy each Day,
From City Palaces, to Country Villa's,
From publick Grandeur, to the lonely Silvan,
From Banquers there, to curious Gardens move,
By whisp'ring Fountains, thro' each sighing Grove,
While Nature's Musick aids and sings your Love.
Guid.
Oh my wrapt Soul, what more can Earth bestow?
What more cou'dst thou? thou coud'st not wish so much!
Desire has limits, boundless is this Bliss;
But what's the Price? ah! that's a sinking Question:
'Tis a Friend's Life must purchase it—but then,
It is a barren Life, he knows not Love,
And Death, to one that dreads it not, is nothing.
What wou'd the medling World say of the Fact?
Wou'd they not mark me out the fail of Honour?
No. Is there one of all its wiser Sons
So vastly brib'd, wou'd not have done like me?
Nor will the vulgar Voice disturb my Ears,
For great Mens Crimes are at the most but whisper'd.
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Can human Virtue, reach at a Return?
Claud.
Did any but Guiderius ask that Question,
It were no wonder; Doom'd to speedy Death,
The worst of Death's, expected and prefix'd,
The golden Gates of Life set wide by me,
And do'st thou ask what Recompence?
Dull, rude, disrespectful, speakest thou to a Woman.
Guid.
Cou'd I resolve unfaithfulness in Friendship,
Yet fly with Horror from the deed in Love?
Oh my Aurosia! what hast thou made of me?
[Aside.
Claud.
He pauses as he were but half resolv'd,
My Eyes may aid my Words.
[Unveils.
Guid.
Ah Heav'ns! the Sister of my injur'd Friend
That urges his Destruction! why, ye Fates,
Why have ye singled her from all her Sex?
Was there no other to compleat the Villain.
Claud.
If it is a torture for the fair unhandsome
To be neglected, well it may for Beauty!
Beauty! Which Claims, which doubly does expect,
Oh Man thy Flatt'ries.
Guid.
O wicked Woman! plain downright Damnation!
So clear, thy Soul is like a polish'd Mirror;
Shows me my Self, and shows me to Repentance.
What can'st thou make thy Brother's Life the way
To thy Desires? Thou wicked to a Wonder!
Ha! ye Immortals! save my changing Senses!
What then am I? oh far more black than she.
Cou'd I resolve to leave that Godlike Friend,
Who, to oblige me, took my Chains upon him,
And e'en his Life engag'd for my return?
Cou'd I resolve to give him Death for trusting me;
Curs'd, curs'd Guiderius! Cou'dst thou, durst thou think it?
How hast thy Conscience and thy Reason Slumber'd!
Where was thy boasted Principles of Honour?
Where wou'd have been that gawdy Life in View,
Which with long Scenes of Pleasure charm'd my Fancy?
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And make thy Breast a living Hell on Earth?
And when at last upon a dying Bed,
I shou'd reflect on the past Acts of Life,
O here! here wounding Horror is inexpressible!
This wou'd make Death a dreadful thing indeed,
The very thought on't shakes my Frame of Nature,
Frights back the Streams of Life into their Fountains,
And Love that rent my Heart is drove away.
Claud.
Collected Vengeance Struggles to be loose,
Beware the kindled Rage of slighted Woman.
Guid.
Must I endure another Pang e're Death?
Aurosia! oh!—but since my Honour joyns
With weeping Love, I'll dare to prove my Virtue.
[Exit.
Claud.
He's gone, and as he went, his scornful Eyes
Shot pointed Flames into my weary'd Heart:
Ah! now my too fond Love and Shame of which
A dear Revenge assumes its rightful Place,
And now it Triumphs in my straitned Breast.
Oh that he yet were uncondemn'd and free,
That I might dart him at a Blow to Hell,
At one, one Blow: No, he shou'd linger Years,
And feel a Death for each detested Limb.
But am I quite forestall'd. No. To the King I'll go,
I'll Sacrifice my Pride, to Charm my Hate;
To rack him yet in Death with her he Loves:
Here then, my Soul, forget thy first of Wrongs,
Indulge thy latter Hatred to Excess,
And in the latter Evil leave the less.
[Is going.
Enter King, Madoc, Attendants at a distance.
King.
No, thou false Fury, Vengeance is too near,
Too near thy self, Ingrateful Traytress! thee,
Whom to thy Glory, I have made the Partner
Of all my private Pleasures; still neglecting
The many Beauties of my Isle for thee;
Why? I say, Why hast thou so falsly play'd me?
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(So well I know thee Lost, than Hell more false)
There be one slight Excuse, I will attend thee.
Claud.
Since we have both Offended, let my Pardon,
Suffice for Both; you was the first Transgressor.
King.
No Slave! I'll make thee know I am a King,
The Sacred Ruling Name that Sins unquestion'd;
The Image Royal of Imperial Jove,
Allow'd, like him, in Crimes which still are punish'd
With Rigour on the Vulgar Race of Nature.
Claud.
A King art thou! thank Heav'n that Chance was blind,
Else had some Lord or Peasant of thy Age,
Been in thy Place. Fond, pitiful in thine.
The Image Royal thou! the Ape of Jove!
On thee thy Statesman practices his Cunning,
Thy Soldiers Prey, and ev'n thy Mistress Bubble.
King.
Destraction! ha! but to compleat the Fury,
To leave thee not the least pretence to Justice;
Disrob'd of Royalty, allow me Man,
And does not universal Custom tell thee,
Custom, the Ground and Cement of all Laws,
Inconstancy, which is a Blot in Woman,
The Mark of lasting Infamy, still punish'd
With utmost Sharpness, is in mighty Man,
The most delightful Character.
Claud.
Dull Tyrant, how thy Thoughts confute thy Meaning?
So were we perjur'd if we were not False;
For when we swear to you eternal Constancy,
The Oath is to Inconstancy it self.
King.
Thou'rt Woman, and thy Tongue is Contradiction,
Equivocation, and eternal Obstinacy;
Let me with Men engage, he may be conquer'd.
Claud.
No, Woman is thy utmost stretch of Daring,
Thy Power, thy Defence; were I a Man,
As soon thou durst engage the God of War,
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How I cou'd Dash thy Dastard Life to Atoms,
Or tread thee like an Insect into Nothing.
King.
Least raging I forget thy feeble Sex,
And thou provoke me past the Rules of Manhood,
Away to Death; I mean to worse than Death,
For wav'ring thee, a Prison for thy Life.
Claud.
For praying Patience keep the lazy Punishment;
Think not, bold Tyrant, thou shalt choose my Fate:
No; round and round the changing Earth I'll go,
Thro' flaming Sand, and ever-freezing Snow;
My Sex I'll harden, so that if I can,
I'll change me to that envy'd Creature Man.
Which if I do; fly hunted Tyrant fly,
Hide thee in Air, or under Waters lie,
Think upon burning Towns, the stormy Sea,
Whirlwinds and Thunder, and then think on me.
[Exit.
King.
Take thy own Will, it is enough thou'rt gone,
Thy Pride it self was almost insupportable,
And wasted by Degrees my sensual Flame;
But Falshood added, has destroy'd it quite,
And left me free and easie all my self.
Mad.
How well might Claudia be succeeded now
By bright Aurosia!
King.
Why do'st thou mention that pernicious Beauty?
Ha! the Thoughts stirring! how I burn and tremble!
The Tide of strong Desire, returns again,
Fiercely it rises, trickles thro' my Veins,
Washes my Heart with such a flowing Pleasure,
So swift, so sweet, so pressing and resistless,
O Resolution!
Mad.
Ah Resolution! is't not very hard
When Pleasure ripe, and blushing on the Tree,
In all the sav'ry Pomp of vernal Nature,
When laughing Winds waft down the loaded Boughs
Unto our Hands, we must be scar'd away
By Resolution nodding on the Top.
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Man may resolve, but Nature still ordains;
Yet such a Chastity, such Innocence,
Methinks 'tis more then Pity to destroy.
Mad.
Will you be laugh'd at? Shall the subtile Sex
Deride your Insufficiency in Love?
Force is their Expectation, and the Man
That Baulks it for their Tears and frowning Flatteries,
Justly incurs their Scorn.
King.
And yet I know her False and full of Cunning;
I know that sure Repentance wou'd succeed,
Yet must I on, my Mind is bent for Shame:
Wonder no more, ye Mighty, and be Wise,
Ye fall a Sacrifice to Womans Eye's;
Alas! how well excus'd, her Heart unknown,
Since we still Perish when our Ruin's shown.
[Exeunt.
Enter Guiderius and Aurosia.
Guid.
I cannot, dare not, violate my Honour,
It sits with Conscience on the Throne of Thoughts,
And Crowns me into Honesty.
Aur.
Talk not of Honour, thou hast nought to do
With such a gen'rous Thought; 'tis Lust, 'tis vile Change;
Claudia, that Roman Strumpet hath seduc'd thee,
Done that in Minutes, that was Hours to me;
Dissembler as thou art.
Guid.
By my true Soul I Love thee, Love thee more,
Much more than Death; I die each Moment for thee.
Aur.
Off with thy glancing Eyes, nor cheat me more.
Love me! a Fiend would Stagger at the Lie!
Love me! What more than thou cou'dst my worst Enemy
Have done to spight me? Ye all knowing Pow'rs,
Was there e'er seen Hypocrisy like this.
Guid.
Close me ye Gods in some infernal Desart,
Keep from my Eyes the Lamps of hearing Heav'n;
Let Hell-Hounds hunt me, Death for ever shun me,
Yet e'en there amidst that heap of Terror,
I wou'd prefer my Faith to thee, to thee,
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Rove in the Bounties of a smiling Fate
With Claudia join'd.
Aur.
All Words, meer Words; there's nothing but thy stay,
Let Death, or Misery, or what can happen,
Shall e'er convince me of this boasted Constancy.
No, if thou go'st, by all that's true, thou'rt like
The rest of thy immoral changing Sex,
False, and already Cloy'd.
Guid.
How, False! and Cloy'd! This partial Accusation
Has darted Daggers thro' my anxious Heart;
Now Life, I soon will fly from thy Embraces;
For now thou hast not one Charm left to tempt me.
The Sweets of Love, for which alone I wish'd
Longer to live, have turn'd themselves to Poison:
Be gone returning Fondness; False! and Cloy'd!
Oh ye just Gods, who form'd the World ye Govern;
Whom then your Female Play-things shall adore
So much as to degrade your awful Pow'r;
Would ye a Worthy Punishment inflict
Upon their guilty Souls for known Neglect,
Let them Love on, and vastly Constant be,
And let them, at the last, be unbeliev'd like me.
[Exit.
Aur.
He's gone! but whither? oh! to die, to die!
And I must never, never, see him more!
Raving.
Come all ye Winds, unite your utmost Rage;
Whirl, whirl me after him! I rise! I fly!
See there! he nimbly Mounts the Scaffold,
While the surrounding Tumults sound him Rebel.
He lays his sulled Head upon the Block;
The Ax is lifted—Ah! I've strove in vain
To stop the falling stroke; his Head and Body's sever'd;
They leap about; the reaking Blood sprouts from them;
Thick shiv'ring Groans, the farewel of the Soul,
Force thro' his Lips, and work the frothy Blood;
His dying Eyes unloos'd and full with Torment,
Give me their latest Look; is it not so?
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Now whither go I? ah what am I now?
Ungrateful Man, let us no more compare
Thy unrelenting Heart to Stones or Metals;
No, hardest Oar will to the Fire submit,
And weeping Water, peirce the Veins of Marble;
And can I then, with common Grief declaim,
So vastly urg'd, and such a wond'rous Cause?
Die, Die, Aurosia! How? by Sword or Poison.
Oh the degrading Ends; live, live Aurosia;
Live and Affront the over-ruling Pow'rs,
To give a Death befitting of thy Life:
Let Fires unheard of be thy speedy Doom,
Or spreading Seas, thy ready Life consume;
Pounded beneath a fall'n Mountain Lie,
Or dash'd to Death against the Steely Sky!
[Exit.
Finis Actus Quarti.
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