University of Virginia Library

SCENE III,

The Princesses Apartment.
Enter Quisara, Panura, and Page.
Qui.
Sing me a Song, then leave me—and if Ruidias
Sould come and beg admittance, introduce him.
But stay—Will Vertue warrant this admission?
Surely, for once it may, in such an Exigence—
We must consult about this Turn of Fortune.
[Qui. seats her self on a Couch.
A SONG; by the Page.

[_]

Set by Mr. Purcel.

[Exit Pan. and Page.
Enter Armusia.
Shield me, ye Powers! What's here!
[She sees him.
Sure 'tis the Phantasm of the Man I dread,
Form'd by my Fears! Who are you?

Arm.
The fondest and most wretched of your slaves.

Qui.
Who waits there? Rude Intruder, leave me.
What means this Treachery? Who let you in?

Arm.
What cou'd keep out the Love that brought me hither.

Qui.
This is an Insolence unparalell'd,
Nor shall my Brother's Love protect this boldness.
I'm mistress of my self, and will not be
Thus visited, spight of your boasted Service.

Arm.
Bright Vertue—

Qui.
Stand off, I read dishonour in your Eyes.

Arm.
By all that Beauty they are Innocent.
Pray tremble not, you have no Cause, Fair Princess.

Qui.
So base a violation of my Privacy!

Arm.
If vertuous Love may claim a pitying glance,
Look on me, and believe me! Is this violence?
Far be it from my heart to fright your quiet,
And heaviest curse falls on him that intends it;
If you mistrust me still, take this and sheath it here.
[He offers her his Dagger.
'Twill give a Wound less cruel than your doubts.

Qui.
Why this Intrussion then?

Arm.
With trembling aw to urge my Love and Service.
But hopes remove, the nearer I approach you,
And I even dread to claim what you have promised.
So much more easie was the task proposed
Than to demand the Recompence. Oh Princess!
When greatness check'd the Fire your Beauty kindled,
Your promise fann'd it to a Flame. I dar'd,
But 'twas you quicken'd hope: Then kill it not;
My flame is grown too mighty to be quench'd;
Yet Oh, 'tis pure, 'tis free from selfish dross.

Qui.
May I believe?

Arm.
Wrong not your Charms that claim no less a duty.
Believe me all devoted to your Will.

Qui.
Oh, Love! Why must I be ungrateful to such merit.
(aside.
Shall I exact a Proof of your Obedience?

Arm.
Command a thousand, till I've tir'd your doubts
Set any task, Mortality may dare.
Point out new dangers, bid me Face Destruction.
Command me any thing—but not to Love.

Qui.
Then hear me! Cease for ever to expect
The Recompence you ask'd, and leave me now.

Arm.
What have I promis'd?
Is this my doom, and is there no redress?

Qui.
But one, which you must to my pity owe.
For I must blush to tell your Cure—I love—
My heart was all dispos'd before you claim'd it.
Fancy had got the start of your deserts,
Which yet I prize so high, that for your Ease
I force my modesty on this Confession,
To disengage your hopes, nor let the man
That has so highly serv'd, depend on fruitless air.

Arm.
Oh, Madam!—

Qui.
Replies are vain: Obey!

Arm.
Wretched Armusia. Doubly wretched now;
What wilt thou do? Can'st thou resign thy Princess?
Resign her to a Rival? Tamely yield
Thy beauteous Prize, and starve thy self to let
Another Riot. Oh this Racks my Soul!
Grief, Jealous Rage, Despair, and Envy tear it.
Bid me with naked Brest go storm a Breach,
When thro' the dreadful gap a thousand Deaths,
Rush down in Fires and Rocks and Iron hail.
But change th'ungrateful task. 'Tis death to hope,
And hope's the Life of Love; 'tis torment in extream,
Wheels, Daggers, dying Pangs, and lingring Fires.

Qui.
Hard fate! Why must I use him thus? But Oh!
I must be cruel to my self or him,

(Aside.
Arm.
Still dumb, relentless Fair? Well, I'll content you,
And keep my Promise, tho' I lose my Life.
Despair will make that easie, Joy attend you,
While I withdraw to die; It should be at your Feet,
But I will not Prophane this Place, nor cost
Your heart a sigh, Farewel!

Qui.
Stay, gen'rous Stranger: your despair alarms me,
Oh, promise me to live.
See, see the Pity which I pay your anguish:
My grateful Soul suffers no less than yours;
For 'tis a pain to be so much oblig'd
And Bankrupt in Returns. It kills my Joy,
I'm angry with my self, and torn in two.
I wou'd recall my heart, but Oh! I cannot. Fear, Duty,
Honour, Shame, Pity, Gratitude and Love distract me,
War in my Brest, my Head, my Soul, and strain the strings of Life
Oh leave, leave me, my Confusion is such,
I dread to say too little or too much.

[going.
Arm.
Oh stay;

Qui.
I cannot; must not.

Arm.
Must I then leave you thus? Oh! if I must,
First see th'affliction of my Soul, see now a separation
More cruel more a death
Than that between the Body and the Soul:
They part to meet again, to be more bless'd;
But I to be divorc'd from Joy for ever.
Let me be mad, ye Powers, or let me die!
Oh Heavens! Oh Princess, Judge what I endure,
When Death or Madness must bestow the Cure.

[going.
Enter Ruidias, Armusia, is going off. They justle one another at the Door accidentally.
Rui.
Ha! who is this?

Arm.
Who art thou?

Rui.
My Rival with the Princess! and so private.

Arm.
Ha! 'Tis Ruidias,
My happy Rival,
But hold out, Patience, yet!

Rui.
Is there not door enough, you take such elbow room.

Arm.
What I take I'll carry.

Rui.
Confusion! Know proud man, I love the Princess; she harkens to my suit,
And tho in Portugal you claim precedence,
I'll have it here; here I command the Fort,
And that commands the Town. Be wise, desist,
Or with my Sword—

Arm.
You wou'd not use it here?

Qui.
Oh hold!—Ruidias, you I may command,
Forbear, and as you prize my Love, respect him.

Rui.
Is then his Life so dear to you? I'm lost.
Had I your leave to wait on you, and for this?
Oh I've not Patience. Must I be outdone?
Out brav'd, out rival'd? Must that Stranger get
At once the start in Glory and in Love,
And tread me like a name in sand, to nothing?
Death, and Hell! shall I bear it? tamely bear it?
No, ere I do, I'll give or take a Life.

Qui.
Brave stranger, by your Love I charge you,
Retire, and entertain no thoughts of Vengeance.

Arm.
O my Patience!

Qui.
'Tis with you still: Oh do not chide it from you.

Arm.
Weak flesh rebels, but you and Vertue Conquer.
I go, but judge, Oh judge! ye tender hearts,
What Pangs, what Racks the wretched Lover tear
Who to his Rival leaves the darling fair.
[Exit Armusia.

Qui.
Great soul, I am asham'd I cannot love him yet.
[aside.
Now, you, whose Jealous Rage is so presumptuous,
Know, I resent it and your disrespect.
Your Love stands yet upon my Courtesie:
'Tis true, I've suffer'd you to tell your Passion,
But I ne're promis'd you a kind return;
And if you dare abuse your privilege—

Rui.
Armusia here, and stealing out, when I
Had hopes to be in private entertain'd!
What Lover cou'd have tamely born the sight?

Qui.
Know what I am? how durst you doubt my honour?
I never taught you to dispose my Freedom;
And had I promis'd you my heart, 'twere a less Crime
In me to change than in you to suspect me;
The first's but frailty, but the last ill Nature.
Is this your Faith? True Love is more respectful.
Armusia wou'd not pass so rash a Censure;
And I shou'd punish thee; I'll strive to do't.
'Tis still the Lot of groundless Jealousie
To bring on what it fears.
Vows, Duty, Gratitude concur to exclude thee,
Yet should I slight thee, should I chuse thy Rival
Blame most thy self, and learn how dang'rous 'tis
To let a Woman, spight of Wisdom's Laws,
See that you're Jealous, tho' without a Cause.
[Exit. Qui.

Rui.
She's gone! what shall I do? Oh that Armusia
Hangs betwixt hopes and me, and threats my Ruin:
He has her vows, fresh Services, the King,
And a vast stock of merit on his side:
I have but naked Love, and wav'ring too, I fear.
The Sword then in my hand, I now must try
To fix my Fortune, and o'recome, or die:
When Conquest can't by formal means be got,
A brave Despair may cut the Gordian knot.