University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Lady Raleigh's Apartment.
Enter Lady Raleigh and Young Raleigh.
L. Ra.
With doubtful Fearfulness, and anxious Hope,
I fain would ask, what yet I dread to know:
Like one condemn'd, whose Fate is cast on Chance,
Blindfold he throws the Lott, and dares not look,
Tho' longing, on the turn of Life or Death.
Yet softly, to our Woes—Is Olympia kind?

Y. Ra.
That Heav'nly Bosom is the Seat of Kindness,
There soft Indulgence and Forgiveness dwell,
And Blessings multiply with constant Growth.

L. Ra.
Such Thanks as Slaves redeem'd from Bondage give,
Such Vows as Love recover'd from Despair
Breaths forth in ecstasy of rapt'rous Joy,
Receive from these warm Lips, O Lovely Maid!
I am that Slave, from Chains by thee redeem'd;
That Love, by thee recover'd from Despair.
My Son, why dwells that Sadness on thy Brow;
Why joins not thy exulting Voice with mine,
In Blessings on the dear Deliverer's Head?

Y. Ra.
O, I could bless her at the dawn of Light,
And with the Morning Fragrance mix her Name,
Invoke her in the thirsty Noon-Day heat,
And cheer the sober Evening with her Praise.
But I am sick and lost; cold chilling Damps,
And raging Flames, alternate Tyrants, sway
This wretched Breast: I Love, and fear to Love.

L. Ra.
O happy Change! I dar'd not hope so much.

Y. Ra.
With all his Strength and Resolution arm'd,
See what a weak defenceless thing is Man,
When Love and Virtue, in a Woman's Form
United, bid the Boaster to the Field.
One glance of Pity, one half-dropping Tear,
Disarms his Anger, melts his stubborn Scorn,
And turns the Tyrant to a Coward Boy.
But if she talks, and vows, and promises,
Hypocrisie it self grows sick of feigning,
Flings off the cumbrous Cloak of Form and Shew,
And opens all the Heart for mighty Love:
Such is the Snare, in which, by your Request,
Your Son is lost.

L. Ra.
Is not thy Father sav'd?

Y. Ra.
Yes, yes; I fear Olympia has prevail'd.

L. Ra.
Is then the great Event but doubtful still?
And wilt thou damp it with thy impious Wish?
Is the soft Advocate of Life and Peace
Pleading my Raleigh's Cause for me, for thee,
Ungrateful Boy, and this the sweet Return?
You Fear she has prevail'd; and if you fear,
You wish it not; there is no middle Line,
To part thy impious Fear, and bloody Wish.

Y. Ra.
Alas! you know not what I fear or wish:
May Heav'n correct me in its day of Wrath!
If that unhallow'd Thought has stain'd my Heart.
To wish it, were to shock creating Nature,
And bid her say—this Monster is not mine.

L. Ra.
What fear'st thou then? Speak, for thy Mother hears
All thy Complainings through Compassion's Ear.

Y. Ra.
Had you but seen the sad Olympia's Eyes,
Heard in what Accents she bemoan'd our Woes,
And with what eagerness of daring Love
She vow'd Redress, you could not surely ask
The Reason of my Fears; since if by Her he lives,
My Father may grow cruel in his turn,
And shock the quiet of my Soul for ever.

L. Ra.
Vex not thy Bosom with so vain a Care.
Consider, he who knows the rate of Life,
Knows how to value the bestowing Hand.

Y. Ra.
A Bounty undesir'd contracts no Debt,
And his great Soul may think it a Disgrace.

L. Ra.
Love, strong in Wish, is weak in Reason, still
Forming a thousand Ills which ne'er shall be:
And, like a Coward, kills it self to-day,
With fancied Grief, for fear it die to morrow.
Reflect on me, am I so worthless grown,
Or so divided from a Wife's Esteem,
As to want Pow'r to reconcile his Heart?
Will he look cold, or turn away his Ear,
When I, whom his sad Fortune sunk in Sorrow,
Sue for the Pledge of our unspotted Loves?
Or if my Voice is weak, let Howard try,
And justifie the Deed himself advis'd.

Y. Ra.
The Storm is o'er, and all is calm again.

L. Ra.
Then, while I thank the Gracious Pow'r on high,
Pursue the Prospect of thy growing Hopes,
Repeat thy Looks, thy Wishes, and thy Vows:
For constant Kindness is the surest Charm,
And Danger dares not stir, when Love is warm.

[Exeunt.