University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Salisbury's House.
Enter Salisbury, Olympia, and Florella.
Sal.
So, my Olympia, thou art now resolv'd
To tear this idle Passion from thy Bosom,
Nor shock thy Father's Fondness by thy Folly
Believe me, Child, were not my Heart and Life
Wrapp'd up in thine, and ev'ry Thought of thee
Breath'd an uncommon Tenderness of Love;
Thy first Offence had cancell'd Nature's Ties,
Drove thee an Outcast from my Race and Blood,
And left thee to the Curse of Want and Shame.

Olym.
[Aside.
Why was I made that wretched Thing I am?

Sal.
What means that Sigh that trembl'd on thy Lips?
If e'er thou think'st of Raleigh's cursed Race,
Let Indignation swell thy Cheek to Rage,
Scorn arm thy Brow, and lighten in thy Eyes.
Reflect on him, as thy great Father does,
As of a Worm of Yesterday, the Child
Of angry Fortune, whom she chose in Sport,
Toss'd round the World, to make him more her Scorn,
And spread his Infamy in ev'ry Clime.

Olym.
Forgive me, Sir, if I have heard from Fame
That once a Friendship, stronger than the Love
Of Woman, fasten'd your united Hearts.
Can Hatred flourish from so sweet a Root?

Sal.
'Tis true, I nurs'd his Infancy of Greatness,
'Till he grew warm in Confidence of Pow'r,
And dar'd to climb alone; then I stood forth,
And crush'd the Folly of my own Formation.

Olym.
I know not how, but sure methinks I took
The first Impressions of a kind Regard,
To this unhappy House, from Cecil's Blood.
Allow me time to wear away the Taint,
Which, as my Birth-right, I receiv'd from you.
Think but what Intervals must lie between
Extremes of Hatred, and Extremes of Love,
Nor fancy that the sweet and salted Wave
Are ever parted by a single Line.

Sal.
Thou hast prevail'd; this Day shall be thy own;
But I do grant it with a Miser's Heart,
And in the Act of giving wish it back.

[Exit.
Olym.
A Day, a single Day! O poor Olympia!
Can a Sun's Journey measure thy Account
Of endless Love! O Niggard, cruel Father!
All other Things have stated Space of time,
To work their Periods, and attain their Ends:
Business is lost, or finish'd, in a Day;
Wealth, Honour, Wisdom are the Growth of Time,
But Love is only at one Instant born,
And knows no Limit to confine its Life:
Ev'n at the Gate of Death, the seeming Date
Of our Duration, Love looks forward still,
And promises ten thousand Years to come.

Flor.
Complain not, Madam; for Almighty Love
Works Miracles; at once begins and ends.
Rather improve the Minutes which are left,
And, while your Father's Absence gives you leave,
Prepare to meet the long-expected Youth.

Olym.
Alas, Florella, tell me so no more;
Four Moons already have I sigh'd alone,
And with repeated Prayers invok'd his Name;
But he, or deaf, or fearful of our Fates,
Shuns the sad Triumph of his conquering Eyes.

Flor.
Suppose he came, suppose Florella knew
He hastens to thee with a Lover's Pace.

Olym.
Suppose! thou dearest Child of flattering Hope,
Big with Delight, and prodigal of Bliss;
Shall I embrace thee with a Mother's Fondness?
No, Thou art set at Distance from my Eyes,
And it were Madness but to wish thee near.

Flor.
Forgive the Cruelty that check'd thy Joys;
And see the promis'd Blessing is at Hand.

Enter young Raleigh.
Olym.
'Tis he indeed—Support me, dear Florella.

Y. Ra.
When Beauty languishes, the Taint becomes
A general Evil, and the sinking Fair
Has Power to sadden ev'ry Object nigh.

Olym.
No, Raleigh! poor Olympia has no Charms;
What once there was (if any once there were)
Are lost in pining Grief, and hapless Love.

[Sighs.
Flor.
I am too near a Witness of the Truth,
The sad Accomptant of the joyless Days,
The wakeful Nights, the sudden bursting Sighs,
The trembling Nerves, and endless Floods of Tears;
And thou the Cause of all, proud cruel Raleigh.
[Unveils her.
Behold the precious Spoils of thy Disdain.

Y. Ra.
What a rich Feast the canker Grief has made!
[Looking at her.
How has it suck'd the Roses of thy Cheeks,
And drank the liquid Chrystal of thy Eyes!
Love sure will once a cruel Reck'ning make
With that rash Heart, that scorn'd his noblest Prize.

Olym.
The Debt is thine,—but much may he forgive,
On a relentless rigid Father's Score.

Y. Ra.
Indeed we're both unhappy in our Fathers.

Olym.
Thine is beyond the reach of Fortune's Pow'r,
And mine, I fear, abuses it too much.

Y. Ra.
If still to persecute the Sons of Woe,
And hunt lodg'd Sorrow from its last Retreat,
A poor base Prison, to a bloody Death,
If this be lawless Pow'r—this Cecil does,
Does to his Blood his Daughter says she loves.

Olym.
[Aside.
'Tis a hard Tryal—but it must be made—
Scatter the Shades that hang upon thy Brow,
Look kindly, Youth, and kindle up my Soul,
To prove that Love is stronger than Revenge.

Y. Ra.
What canst thou do against the Streams of Wrath,
The Plots of Gundamor, and Wealth of Spain?

Olym.
I know the Fondness of my Father's Heart,
And I will try and pierce it to the quick;
Yes, he shall feel the Force of Woman's Tears;
These Hands shall hold him, on these wretched Knees,
Dragg'd, wounded, torn, I will pursue him still;
No Sound shall reach him, but repeated Cries
Of Mercy, Mercy, till his Soul relents,
In kind Compliance with his Daughter's Voice.

Y. Ra.
The Breath of soft Persuasion warm thy Lips!

Oly.
But wilt thou then be wond'rous kind, and love?

Y. Ra.
O my Soul longs and sickens for the Hour,
Till Fate and Honour give it leave to love;
Till thy blest Tongue has charm'd thy Father's Wrath;
Then I would fly with Eagerness of Joy,
Kneel at thy Feet, and print the sacred Truth
With untold Kisses on thy saving Hand.

Olym.
Heav'n whispers me the Minute comes apace.
Then, in remembrance of Olympia's Vow,
Go, wipe away the dew of Grief, that hangs
On the sad Relatives of Raleigh's Blood.
And now, ye faithful Lovers Shades of old,
Whose Spirits once inform'd the Female Mould;
Who, for the Charms of some successful Youth,
Have prov'd blest Miracles of Love and Truth;
Descend, and give, ye Fair Celestial Throng,
Fire to my Heart, and Musick to my Tongue:
So be it said, since Greece and Rome decay'd,
Their Deeds are equal'd by an English Maid.

[Exeunt.