University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

A Long Garden.
Enter Mal. Alb. Mero.
Mal.
'Tis done, 'tis done, Albaza.
Prince Rodomond's ruine is Compleat,
Above the very prospect of my hopes;
Iv'e blown the King to such a height of rage,
As will his Rival Crush to pieces.

Alb.
You mind the minute, and your Fortune caught,
Or else this glazing Meteor had Eclips'd
Your fading Lustre, and destroy'd your Power:
All Eyes were fix'd on him, and every Voice
Proclam'd his Triumphs, magnified by Fame;
While you, who in his absence rul'd the Day,
Seem'd but a Shadow when you shin'd before.

Mal.
What you observe, Albazer, is too true;
When I with all the Courtiers Little Arts,
And deep dissimulation humbly bowd
To welcome his return, he cast a Glance,
A haughty Glance, which seem'd to speak contempt,
And scarse vouchsaf'd a supercilious Nod.

Alb.
Thus far, my Lord, you with the current Sail;
You've thrown the Rival of your Power down,
But if at last, through force, he shou'd comply,
And be restor'd to Favour and Command,
He'll rise the higher, and revenge his fall:
The dead can only do no harm.—

Mal.
Yes, he shall Dye; but we that point must manage,
And wisely throw the Odium on the King,
He must perform, what we our selves desire
Meroan.

Mero.
My Lord.

Mal.
Have you the Largess to the Soldiers given?

Mer.
I have my Lord.

Mal.
And how did they receive it?

Mer.
With all the sense of Gratitude;
They Vow their Lives and Honour
Devoted to your Service.

Mal.
All things Concur, my Friend, to raise our hopes;
The Prince remov'd, the King defenceless stands,
Beset with Foes, and destitute of Friends:
On Rodomonds Virtue all his Power is built;
That Basis sap'd, the tott'ring fabrick falls.

Alb.
The Legions here in Town are ours;
And if the Army, who the Prince Adore,
Shou'd meditate Revenge, a Sum of Gold
Dispers'd among them will their Fury cool:
That Mercenary wretch who Fights for Gold,
With Gold will be Corrupted.
But see the King! you must contrive
To feed his Fury with new fuel.

Enter King, Gonz. Roder, &c.
King.
He dies, by Heav'n he dies, Gonzalvo;
Ungrateful Rodomond shall die:
And could he Hidra like receive again,
Each several day, a several Fate should give.

Gonz.
O, Sir, let not your Fury thus transport
That Godlike Mind to Violent Extreams;
Our Passions always fatal Council give;
Through their fallacious Glass our Wrongs appear
Still greater than they are.

King.
Reject my Daughter, and Invade my Love!
What can he add to such a wrong? My Love
Is sacred as my Crown; and he who dares
To Rival me in one, will make no scruple
To Invade the other.

Gonz.
His Soul abhors the Thoughts of such a Crime.
Remember, Sir, his Virtue and your Love,
That fond Paternal Love you always shew'd,
Which he with Filial Piety return'd;
Shou'd now your Rage this hasty Sentence give,
You wou'd repent th'irrevocable blow.

Mal.
Besides, the Loss which wou'd his Death attend:
His recent Triumphs on the Banks of Po
Have so indear'd him to the Soldiers Hearts,
Seditious Spirits may their Rage incite
To Mutiny and Revenge.

King.
'Tis fitter for that Reason he shou'd die,
Thou mak'st my Justice necessary, Malespine;
He who by Dying can disturb my Peace,
May, Living, shake my Throne: But I
Contemn those little Fears. O Gonzalvo,
Thou know'st I Lov'd, and fain wou'd Love him still,
'Tis Rodomond only, Rodomond can save,
Go thou Gonzalvo, and use all thy Art
To bring his Passion down to Reason's Lure;
If thou succeed not, I will try my self
For once, I'll strive to bend this stubborn Man
Let him resign Armida, and he Lives:
Accept Cimene, and he Reigns. O Malespine!
[Exit Gonz.
How vain is Empire, and how useless Power,
Which cannot purchase one poor Virgins Heart?

Mal.
'Tis not your want of Power, but of Will:
Exert the King, and who'll resist the Lover?
Tho' seeming Coy, few women will complain
Of grateful Force, that lifts them to a Throne.

King.
I wou'd not Plunder, Malespine, but Conquer;
The Rape destroys the pleasure of Fruition;
I wou'd be Happy, or I wou'd be Cur'd:
They say, that Musick has resistless Charms,
To Quell the Tumults of an Anxious Breast.
If Sounds can heal the poysonous Insects Bite,
Why not the Sting of Love? For Love is sure
One kind of Poyson: Sound, Sound all
Our Instruments of War, with Vocal Air
Sonorous Mettal fill, whose sprightly breath
New Life imparts and warms the Cowards Blood.
Martial Loud Musick Plays, the King Listens.
Higher, yet higher; raise th'Extatick Sound,
With all, the Symphony of Martial Notes,
Such, such as in the Field of Battle
Proclaim'd our Triumphs when the Lombard fell.
Martial Musick still Plays, the King stands List'ning.
It works! it works! the Dancing Spirits rise,
Soft Love retires, and Furies seize my Breast;
Bring forth the Warlike Steed, my shining Arms,
I will revenge my Quarrel on Mankind,
And Nations Drown'd in Seas of Blood,
Armida's Cruelty shall Rue.
Arm. and Cim. appears at the other end of the Garden, Crossing the Stage.
See there she goes, how weak is human force,
In Competition with her Eyes? Cease, Cease
Those Harsh, and Ill Concording Sounds, which Arm
With Steel the Heart, and make us Deaf to Nature,
Sink, sink to gentle and melodious strains,
Soft as the Passions of my melting soul,
And warm as new desire.
[Soft Musick Plays, the King listens.
I will pursue her.

Roder.
Stay Royal Almenick, stay, or you are lost;
Wou'd you be safe, fly from the Victors Eyes:
When with our Passions we make Noble War,
'Tis Glorious to Retreat, and Victory to Fly.

King.
I wou'd be sav'd; but by Armida's Smiles.
The Merchant Stranded, and his Fortune's Lost,
Fix'd on the Floating Mast each God implores,
With longing Eyes the distant Mountains views,
And Vows he'll never trust the Ocean more:
But when escap'd, all his Resolves are vain.
Thus I, relapsing, re-assume my Chain,
Forget my Danger, and Renew the Pain.

[Exit.
Manent Mal. Alb. Mer.
Mal.
That Qualm of Virtue frightned me, Albazar,
But see, he swallows all the Bait again,
And Running to his Fate prevents my Guilt:
Thus Men are always ruin'd by themselves,
And falsly call the Stars, or Heav'n unkind,
When all Contribute to the Ills they find.

[Exeunt omnes.