University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

GONDIBERT, RHODOLINDA, LAURA.
Gondibert.
Ambition reaches out a Crown in vain,
To raise me into Misery for ever.
Cease, gilded Bait, to swim before my Eyes;
My Love is fixt and stedfast as the Pillars
Which prop the Sky: Ambition, cease to tempt me;
Thy Efforts all are light as empty Air.
—My Birtha's dearer than ten thousand Crowns,
Tho' every Crown was spangled o'er with Stars,
And golden India ripen'd all Her Mines
Beneath its Pow'r.—But how shall I behave,
Or how disguise my Passion from the Princess.
She must expect a softer, warmer Meeting
Than I have Pow'r to give. This, this perplexes.
—I cannot now avoid her ill-tim'd Visit:
No; if I shou'd, her Anger might arise
And ruin all my Hopes: I must receive Her;
I must; but yet I need not mention Love:
With awful Reverence I'll seem to greet Her,
And, after formal Complements, retire
Submissively; then silent steal to Birtha,
And crown our Vows with Marriage:—sure, the Princess,
When Marriage has united us, will pity us,
Nor hurl the Bolt of Vengeance at Our Love:
Softness becomes Her Sex. But then the King—
His Rage, at my Refusal, may undo us:—
Good Heav'n, direct me in this doubtful Hour,
O safely lead me through this Maze of Ruin,
For I resign our Loves unto thy Care:
Look down with Mercy: Birtha's Innocence
May hope Protection from thy righteous Hand!—
But Rhodolinda comes, and Laura with Her.
Hail, royal Maid! whose Beauty, like the Sun,
Disdains not thus to shine on all alike.
This Visit might detain a fleeting Soul,
Just on the Wing to Heav'n, and call it back
To stay awhile and wonder at your Goodness:
Might bid the Hearts of Princes beat with Pride:
But when vouchsaf'd to me, your humblest Vassal—

Rhodolinda.
My Lord, you'r not so much indebted to me;
For ev'n without the Orders of the King,
The Gratitude, and Friendship which I owe
The brave Defender of my Father's Throne,
Had brought me thus to thank you for your Service.

Gondibert.
Alass, my Service, Madam, was but trifling;
What every honest Man shou'd pay his King,
And only can deserve the Name of great,
Since you are pleas'd to raise it with your Praises.
To be rewarded thus, might teach a Coward
To flame with Valour, rush on certain Death,
And thank the Gods who made his End so glorious.
For not the generous Poet's golden Pen,
Dip'd in Eternity, and dropping Life,
Cou'd give the Heroe half so high a Fame,
As when you gild his Actions with your Tongue.
I fear She loves: I see it in her Eyes;
They swell on Mine, and Love is pregnant in Them.

Rhodolinda.
But what if Rhodolinda shou'd dispence
Superiour Favours to her graceful Warriour.
Excuse me, Modesty, and hide my Blushes.

[Aside.
Gondibert.
Impossible: your Praises are too high;
They lift the Soul above—What shall I say?

[Aside.
Rhodolinda.
What if the Princess whom you say you honour—

Gondibert.
Madam, I fear I violate your Goodness
With tedious Service, and detain your Beauties
From spreading out their Beams and kindly Influence,
And comforting the Earth with Light and Joy.
May bounteous Heav'n Show'r all its Blessings on you.

[Exit.