University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

[Scene I.]

Scene—An Hall in the House of Adriel.
[The noise of music and dancing heard at a distance.
ABDON
—ALONE.

[Retires.

SCENE II.

The guests enter, their heads crown'd with wreaths of flowers, they form a circle and sing the following Hymn, Zalmon and Achan, the two Hebrews, at a distance.
[They all pour Libation in their order, one offers the cup to Zalmon, and next to Achan, who both refuse it.
1 Guest.
And who are ye, ungrateful men! who dare
Thus to renounce that loyalty ye owe
To your benignant mother? do ye live
Her pensioners, upon her bounty fed
Each moment of your lives? does every pulse
Bear witness to our Queens maternal love
And can ye still presume to thwart her rites
To check the hallowed harmony that reigns
Thro' this vast city in full unison
Of grateful adoration join'd? declare
Your names and whence you came, that we may learn
In what strange climate of the foodful earth
Our patroness maintains the thankless race
That spurn her bounty, and defy her power!

Zal.
We thank the hand that feeds us; nor deny
Superior goodness and superior power,
Nor are religious rites to us unknown,
Nor are our bosoms so obdur'd by crimes
As to forget to whom we owe ourselves,
And what is ours, but to declare our names
And country, we are yet forbid; our laws
Forbid us also to adore the gods
Of strangers!

1 Guest.
And is Vesta's name unknown
To any people, or to any clime
Is not her bounty felt by all?

Zal.
And much
By some abus'd! but we acknowledge one
No weak dispenser of his gifts to all
Promiscuous, undistinguish'd, as blind chance
Or blinder bounty (without justice) bids.
But one, who in the cause of virtue still
And for her sole encouragement, bestows
His various dispensations, if not here,
At least, hereafter.

1 Guest.
Came you here
To taste our bounty, and insult our ears
With fables of futurity, day-dreams
Implying censure on our conduct? then
'Tis like ye are not what ye seem! perhaps
Wanderers, or spies from yonder Hebrew camp
Egyptian vagabonds, or Arab thieves—
The state shall know you better, haste ye! come!
Seize those profaners of our holy rites
And bear them to the senate.

Zal.
Touch us not—
Our lives are not the playthings of a crowd
Zealots of a dumb idol, or a name
They know not what!

2 Guest.
Why stand ye thus aloof!

Ach.
Because a greater power than yet they know
Restrains them!

1 Guest.
That shall be determin'd soon
To your confusion.

[As they are going to seize them, four young Patricians come in (supposed of the party newly initiated in the secret rites of Vesta) all the guests disperse, except Zalmon and Achan.
Zal.
to Achan.
How the dastards fly!—
Great God! who bade their haughty tyrants shew
Their formidable aspects here, to chace
The trembling cowards hence! thy name we hail
And blest in thy protection stand our ground!

Enter ABDON.
[Exit.
1 Pat.
[Entering and looking around.]
Here late we heard
The voice of Revelry. Now all is hush'd,
And still. The crowd is all dispers'd, but two,
And who are they? They wear a foreign garb! To them.

Say, strangers! where is all the crew who join'd
So late in jovial clamour? hence the noise
Seem'd to proceed, but interrupted soon
By strains, unseemly on this festive night!

Zal.
We know not, we are strangers to your rites,
As to the tenor of your questions.

2 Pat.
Whence,
And who are ye?

Ach.
It boots not to declare
Our name or nation: in this public haunt
Of strangers, and promiscuous guests, from climes
And nations far remote, it were a task
Irksome and endless to enquire their names!

2 Pat.
Do ye presume to dally with your fate,
By dark evasion, and to wear that look
Of proud defiance too? Do ye not know
That in our bosoms rests the dread award
Of life and death?

Zal.
Your hand you cannot stretch
But by permission of an higher power,
And he, besure, will take a strict account
Whene'er against the hospitable law
Ye dare to lift it, or employ its force
To violate the stranger.

1 Pat.
Brother, come—
This is some vender of dry proverbs; fed
By wondering rustics with precarious meals
For selling wisdom by penurious scraps,
In pompous phrase, thro' cots and hamlets poor,
And now, his overweening pride conducts
This pedant to the capital, inspir'd
With empty hope a better mart to find
For his insipid ware.

3 Pat.
Avaunt!

2 Pat.
Begone!
Go hunt for hearers in the sordid haunts
Of rustic wonderment! we have in view
A nobler game!

[Exeunt Patricians.
Zal.
What mean the brain-sick boys,
Is it with native insolence, or wine,
Or the hot sallies of impetuous youth,
Their pride is lifted up so high?—

Ach.
Whate'er
The cause, they seem (all boastful as they are)
Devoid of native courage: did you mark
When you put on that lion-look, which marks
The race of Judah. how the colour fled
From the flush'd check, and Terror took her turn
To dim the sparkling insolence, that flam'd
In every glance?

Zal.
I did.—But all the guests,
Methinks, are fled!—What must the treatment be
That thus has crush'd the manly spirit down,
(And spite of the angelic form) depress'd
To the low level of the trodden worm
That darts into the cover, when he sees
The majesty of man approach! Those slaves
Are hardly worth a conquest, and their blood
Would but disgrace our swords, but that the will
Of heaven ordains to hold the miscreants up,
To after ages, an example dread
Of what they may expect, who float along
In the strong tide of tyranny and vice.—
But hark—a noise within!—We soon shall learn
The glorious cause, which brought those patriots forth,
For what redress of wrongs, what splendid acts
Of charity or valour they forsook,
At this dark hour, the orgies of their gods!

Rahab
within.
Help all ye pitying powers on high! Defend
My weakness, or I'm lost! Oh Abdon, Abdon,
Where at this sad, disastrous hour art thou?
Oh father, father!—But why call in vain
Father or friend, to rush on certain fate?

1 Pat.
within.
No, no—not here—another temple waits
A victim so illustrious! Heavens!—what charms, [She is dragged out by two of the patricians.

What dignity of scorn, what loveliness,
O'er all her form! My struggling fair-one! come,
It grieves us much, that to our lot it falls
To seize you as a criminal of state,
An open scorner of your country's gods!
And you, at this late hour, must come before
Th'assembled states, and answer to your charge.

3 Pat.
Or if your virgin modesty refuse
To grace the senate with your presence now,
Our order is to lead you to a place
Of safety, and attend you there till morn!

Rah.
O thou! who bad'st the Red Sea part before
Thy chosen armies! grant a way for me
To 'scape this shame, or send deliverance down,
From those!—

4 Pat.
Stop her audacious mouth! She speaks
Nothing but blasphemy!

[Zalmon and Achan appear.
Zal.
Thy prayers are heard,
Forsaken maid! but not o'erlook'd by heaven!

Ach.
Heavens! what a form! and is it thus you treat
The stamp of Heaven's own hand, when it appears
Amongst you?

1 Pat.
Who are you? Confusion—Here
Again! Plebeians! go! and find your cells.
What make you here at this dark hour? Avaunt,
Hide your obscurities in kindred gloom,
Or this right hand shall mix you with the dust
From whence you sprung!

Zal.
Unhand your trembling prey
And go in peace! proclaim your glorious deeds
Your piety and justice in the fanes
Of your great deities, with all their priests
Around!—What! has amazement ty'd your tongues?

2 Pat.
[Drawing a sword.
It has not bound our hands, as ye shall find
Audacious ruffians!

Rah.
Oh! in pity, heaven!
Prevent a scene of bloodshed, or let me
Be the first victim!—

3 Pat.
Seeming modesty!
Are these thy favour'd guards? but they full soon
Their proud temerity shall mourn.

[Zalmon and Achan each draw a concealed sword.
Zal.
Fall on!
We are not us'd to tremble at the frown
Of proud nobility!

2 Pat.
Is it even so?

[They engage: Zalmon and Achan beat them off.
Zal.
[To the Patricians going out.]
Nay more—ye violators! learn from us
(And think by us heaven thunders in your ears
The dreadful warning) that your crimes are full
And here your chastisement begins!

[Ex. Patricians.
Ach.
Tongue-valiant heroes! is it thus your hands
Maintain the mischief of your hearts? would heaven
That vice would always vindicate her cause
By such effeminate bravoes, silken sons
Of Luxury and Sloth! They roam the street
At the wild voice of Riot, and appall
With empty threat, the reptile race who chance
To crawl across their way, but shrink before
The warrior's frown, and to their covert fly,
Like timorous deer!

Zal.
To Rah.

Rah.
Nor trust in vain, for lo! benignant heaven
Has deign'd us other aid. Oh Abdon! friend. Enter ABDON and CANAANITES.

Behold and thank my saviours! sent by him
Whose piercing look pervades the deepest gloom,
And smites the ruffian's hand (uprais'd to strike)
With nameless terrors!

Abd.
To that God be praise,
God of the stranger and forlorn! To him
My orisons shall ever rise, his laws
My life shall still obey! Oh take my thanks,
Accept my heart, my life, 'tis yours, 'tis his,
Who nerv'd your arms to combat for a life
So dear to me, and dearer far than life!— To Rahab.

Her honour! In my dread for thee, I flew
To rouse those faithful friends to the defence
Of this asylum of my dearest hopes!
I met the violators in their flight,
But, oh! what signs of horror mark'd their looks,
Distinguish'd thro' the gloom! They were not worth
Revenge! we let them pass, to spread around
The panic where they flew; I thence dispatch'd
A faithful friend, to dog them at the heels,
And give the signal, lest their coward fears
Should yield at last to Reason's calmer sway,
And urge them on to try their fate again
With new confederates, and augmented rage.
Lest this should happen, thou, my love! retire,
And we, assisted by those generous friends,
(But most by that benignant power who led
Their blessed footsteps hither) shall protect
Thy life and honour both!

[Exit Rahab.
Zal.
But, who is he
Who comes with such important looks of haste!—
His eye speaks wonder; but we know not yet
Whether his coming bodes alarm or joy.

Enter ELIEZER.
Abd.
Ha—Eliezer—tell at once what cause
Brings you so soon with such unusual looks
Of terror and surprize? Are we to fly,
Or is our flight restrain'd? Thou wast not wont
To tremble with a woman's palsy thus,
At every rumour!

Eli.
'Tis no trivial cause,
Nor fear, that sent me on such breathless haste.
Let no unfounded terror slack your hands,
There is no cause of dread! The panic cloud
Which lately hover'd o'er this trembling roof,
Invades your foes, and o'er the city spreads
With the contagion of a pestilence,
That walks the streets at noon, and sweeps along
A people with their king!

Abd.
What wondrous cause
Has sent this terror in a moment round?

Eli.
The young patricians, from those doors expell'd,
And baffled in their foul attempt, by powers
Above all mortal prowess (as they deem)
Have found an ebb of insolence, and now
Fanatic frenzy, in full tide, comes in—
Her heady current sweeps away the bound
Of vanquish'd reason. Even the senate reels
('Tis said) beneath her influence, inspir'd
By those intrepid warriors; and the night
Confounding, mingling, magnifying all,
Dilates the deadly phantoms of the mind
To giant size!

Abd.
Oh! righteous Heaven! your names
(More potent than the dreadful syllables
Which call'd the cloud-born pestilence) possess
The force of armies, and unhinge the strength
Of Canaan's noblest state! Say, who are ye,
Angels or men?

Zal.
Whate'er we are, to you
We promise safety, in the awful name
Of him, who scatters armies, with a word,
Potent as whirlwinds, (whose infuriate breath
Levels the woods tall files,) if ye observe
What we direct, and gather all your friends
To this heaven-favour'd roof.

Abd.
I go—I fly.
Haste, Eliezer, help me to collect
The partners of our heart, and of our hope,
Who long have groan'd beneath the lifted scourge
Of our unfeeling lords! yes tyrants! yes
I see, I feel—your doom, at last is near—
The dreadful harvest of your crimes is ripe,
It reaches to the clouds, its root in hell,
Sown by the fiends! but soon the deadly scythe
Of Desolation comes to lay you low
In common ruin, yet I mourn your fall,
And would prevent it if I could!

[Exeunt Abdon and friends.
ACHAN—ZALMON.
Ach.
Now, Zalmon!
Why stand you thus in calm tranquillity,
As if confiding in your strength, you held
The dreadful bolt of heaven yourself?—but think
One moment, think, upon what slippery ground
We stand; our names, our phantoms rather spread
Confusion's panic thro' the streets—afar
We seem terrific shadows thro' the gloom
Of double night, that for a moment lasts,
(This mental darkness, with a starless sky
In horrour blended,) but the springing dawn
Of reason, (which a moment may produce)
A single spark, by accident or chance
Lightning the dusk, will shew us what we are
Detected to the eye of sober sense,
And to mere mortals dwindled down at last,
We that now wear the garb of gods!—what then
Remains, but by a secret embassy
To rouse the slumb'ring host, and lead them on
To take the 'vantage of the dreadful hour
And scale the walls, or force the guardless gates
Ere yet the tumult to a calm subsides
And reason re-assumes her throne?—

Zal.
Shall I
Or thou presume to mix, with daring hand
The little views of human policy
With heaven's tremendous counsels? art thou sure
That these nocturnal stratagems and thefts
Of war, will best fulfil the great designs
Of Providence? Her judgments she displays
Conspicuous in the presence of the sun
Conspicuous, as her mercies!—martial slights
And frauds, she deigns not to adopt, for man
And man's short-sighted wisdom, are forbid
Among the glories of th'Almighty's plan
To mix its earthly, and unhallow'd dregs:
The worldly warriour all advantage takes
To sate his lust of fame, or lust of gold
But we, Heaven's delegates, for nobler ends
Brandish the consecrated steel.—For heaven,
And to assert her violated laws:
Not in vain brass or monumental stone
To rank with demigods, we take the field!—
Not with accumulated plunder gain'd
From burning hamlets, and dismantled towns
To purchase from the mercenary bard
The pomp of adulation.—Nightly frauds!—
Would they not seem as if omnipotence
Wanted the aid of stratagem? would this
Become the dreadful name, or tend to aid
The glorious cause for which he clove the deep
And walk'd the troubled ooze in flames! the cause
Of virtue, of humanity, the cause
Of moral excellence, each heavenly gift,
That lifts us from the dust to tread the stars!—
Leave the result to heaven! the cause is his
And let the means be his!

Ach.
Yet you forget
That in the fervour of mistaken zeal
That errour, which in others you accuse
Becomes your own adoption!—

Zal.
Friend! you speak
In riddles—but explain.

Ach.
You justly blame
That man's presumption, who aspires to mix
His counsels with the deep, mysterious scheme
Of him, whose will determines all below;
Yet you yourself (nay hear me out my friend
With patience!) tho' in piety and zeal
For heaven, to none inferior, yet seduc'd
Even by your boasted piety, presume
Heaven's movements to constrain, to guide the hand
Omnipotent, with dictatoiral voice
Which seems to say, Those are your proper bounds;
This line and this alone, thou shalt pursue;
No star shall gaze on thy nocturnal march!
Night still must slumber on her ebon throne
And ne'er behold thy majesty, amaz'd.—
Thy glories rising with the rising sun
With him shall climb the sleep ascent of noon
And dazzle his meridian beams—is this
The genuine language of thy heart, or no?
Would'st thou prescribe to heaven? wilt thou deny
That this deep frenzy of the soul, that raves
Around those battlements, whose voice even now
We hear,—was sent by heaven, to chace away
The shadow of resistance, and to call
The slumb'ring host, with no unmeaning voice
To seize the instant moment? shall we lose
The crisis by your sloth, or causeless fear?

Zal.
Achan! you know, that heaven, not man—commands
My reverence, and my dread, I fear the taint
Of wrong, and that alone!

Ach.
I know your courage;
I know thou feel'st the honourable dread
Of leaving thy appointed post; but think
What strictest duty claims, nay what our Chief
Himself expects at this important hour!
Say! ought he not to know this sudden change
At this conjuncture, and in judgment sit
Upon the sum of things himself? To him
And not to us, the mighty privilege
Belongs, of judging what is right and fit,
Whether to take advantage of their fears
And pour on his already frighted foes
Treble confusion, or to wait the hour,
When this dread hurricane subsides, and seize
The smiling moment of fallacious calm
With unexpected rage to strike the blow
Like thunder, bursting from a cloudless sky—
Consider this—lest your too rigid sense
Of duty, turn to blame, when Joshua hears
That golden opportunities were lost
By our rash confidence, or coward fear—
For so the world will construe our delay
If we should linger here.

Zal.
But who shall go?
Shall one, or both?

Ach.
Our sudden flight would cause
New panics to the crowd, to find us now
Confronting their patrician pride, and now
Vanish'd they know not how, would make us thought
Somewhat above humanity, and rouse
Their fears to frenzy!

Zal.
But, to leave the maid
In jeopardy!

Ach.
aside.
Ha! is it so! my friend
I fear'd as much!— [To Zalmon.]
and is it here
The zeal of Zalmon points? In Abdon's guard
The maid, I think is safe!—

Zal.
And wouldst thou cast
On me the foul suspicion, that my feet
Are fetter'd by the myrtle bands of love?
That low degenerate passions quench my zeal
For Israel's glory! Tho' to go or stay
Is in my option, and my will mine own
Yet to convine you, and the world, how much
Zalmon the imputation scorns, that love
Should warp him from his duty, (love, by heaven
Unsanctioned) where the voice of glory calls
And Israel's cause, I go, and leave the field
To thee! do thou my friend, respect thyself!
And that ensures thy duty to thy God
To Israel, and thy friend!—I leave to thee
This lovely maid! revere her plighted vows,
Protect her virtues, and regard her love!
Think that her lover is our best ally
And heaven will still protect thee, as before!
I soon will come, before their fear subsides
With a selected band to rescue thee.

Exit.
ACHAN
—SOLUS.
He too suspects my love! yet leaves me here
In full possession of the lovely prize!—
What does this mean? my utmost wish is given—
And why this dread? the vital tide recoils
In hurrying tumult to my labouring heart,
As if I trode a precipice, and saw
Destruction from below! my rivals now
Are both departed, Abdon to select
His friends, and Zalmon, in a few short hours
Will shake these trembling and devoted walls
With Israel's chosen legions in his train—
Golden Occasion smiles and points the prize
Already in my reach, if I but dare
To stretch my vent'rous hand and seize the boon!
But should my pleaded passion touch her heart
And should her plighted faith dissolve away
Before the fervour of my vows, will heaven
Sanction the bold attempt? will heaven permit
Alliance with a gentile?—Yes—our God
Tho' just, is too indulgent to inspire
This fever of the blood, that fires my brain,
That burns in every nerve, and yet refuse
The remedy within my grasp! to pine
To languish thus, and not to try the means
Of cure, were low despondence! but in vain
I now deliberate—good and evil now
And right and wrong, upon a moments point
Revolve in giddy whirl, for Abdon soon
Will come, and with him comes despair and death.—
What noise is that? O lingering fool! behold!
Confusion to my hopes! my rival comes.
Already!

Enter ABDON and CANAANITES.
Abd.
Can we hope, illustrious friend!
Your pardon for our stay? but is thy friend
Our noble guardian, summon'd hence away?

Ach.
He goes
To rouse the bands of Israel; while your fears
Render resistance vain, a few short hours
Will see your boasted bulwarks hemm'd around
By Heaven's own legions!

Abd.
Should they force our gates
Say what ensues?

Ach.
The wasteful rage of fire
And undistinguished slaughter!

Abd.
Can our doom
Be yet delay'd or shunn'd—my country! oh!
Ye palaces! ye heaven-aspiring towers
Ye solemn temples, must ye fall?

Ach.
One way
And only one remains, to save the name
Of Jericho!

Abd.
Give it a name—I fly
To try—if yet within th'extremest verge
Of possibility, it lies.

Ach.
Their doom
By prompt submission to Jehovah's laws
Given without limit, may preserve your lives
And walls.

Abd.
Alas! the haughty senate still
Oppose the general wish, the giddy throng
Of young patricians overbear the vote
Of the pacific few; the priests, inspir'd
With all the bitterness of holy zeal
Oppose the popular tide; even those, who late
Shrunk from your looks with terrour, and repell'd
By you, began to propagate around
Their panics, by the holy Flamen fir'd
Resume their pride, deny their former fears
And put on looks of manhood!

Ach.
Does it seem
To them so easy, with the Syren art
Of courtly sycophants, to turn and sway
The multitude, whose fermentation seem'd
Th'immediate act of heaven?

Abd.
Incens'd by wrongs
They scorn their master's lore, and yet deride
Their menaces and prayers, the lifted scourge
And supple knee imploring!—Priestly arts
And lordly threats alike have lost their power.

Ach.
What, have the masters of the state resolv'd
Submission or defiance?

Abd.
They prepare
To seize the citadel.

Ach.
What influence
Is yours among the people?

Abd.
Till this crisis
I never made th'experiment.

1 Can.
His power
And influence are great, tho' ne'er till now
Even by himself suspected, such the force
Of inborn merit, tho' in humble life!

Ach.
Does the proud senate know his power?

1 Can.
They do,
Or soon at last, shall know.

Achan
to Abdon.
Dost thou affect
Thy country? would'st thou heal her civil wounds,
And ward the certain and tremendous blow
That threatens from abroad? Go—point their danger,
Address the Senate! ask them, if their walls
Can stand before the power, whose lifted arm
Sever'd the main sea for his people's march
And gave their feet to press the unsunn'd sands!
Go tell them how the rolling waves retir'd
Pushed from their poise by the careering winds!
Tell how old Ocean woke, and roll'd his robe
His undulating robe of azure dye
Round his gigantic limbs in haste, and fled
To shun the dread invasion. How aghast
His pale eye from the congregated clouds
Look'd down upon the moving pomp below,
Where o'er his pearly bed, thick trampling march'd
The fugitives of Memphis. In their van
No ensign wav'd, the pride of Tyrian looms
With mimic blazonry, but high above
Streaming long radiance o'er the thick-wore night
Empyreal glory led them! Tell how loud
The billowy pile, that seem'd to quench the stars
Impending hideous ruin o'er their heads
Threaten'd with ineffectual roar, withheld
With strict aereal rein by him who rides
The winds! describe, how unresolv'd, aghast
They stood, till the august orb mov'd along
Like the glad progress of the morn!—exalt
With heaven's own energy thy pompous style
To match the long majestic colonnade!
How their pale fronts the watry mirrours smooth'd
And as the lamp ethereal pass'd, return'd
With interchangeable, broad glance, from each
To each, the polish'd helms, the figur'd shields
And horrent spears, thick-twinkling as they pac'd
In measur'd march along. How Miriam's voice
Led the respondent choirs, as thus they sung
Deep charming the nocturnal march, “Ye sons
“Of Seth! be not afraid!—yon frowning pile
“Of waves, which longs its brother wave to meet
“In loud fraternal ruin, threatens death—
“But not to you!—below yon gloomy arch
“Securely tread, as if the marble gates
“Of Memphis, threw their solemn canopy
“Over your heads, nor tremble when you hear
“The thunder of Busirian cavalry
“Careering thro' the deep.—Their way is dark,
“Presumption leads them on, and she is blind!
“Not so your holy guide? hark how they plunge
“Darkling amidst the hostile brine! and now
“The noise is heard no more, for ever lost
“In that tremendous burst, and loud salute
“Of kindred waves, long sever'd; now combin'd
“That shake the regions round,” such was the scene
My father told, who pass'd the wond'rous vale
With Israel's squadrons, such were then the deeds
That scatter'd terrour thro' the nations round
And shook Arabia's hundred thrones, from Nile
To Jordan! Go! and try its full effect
On Jericho's proud King and Senate stern.—
Bid them observe the thunder as it rolls
Before the bolt descends!—

Abd.
To thee I leave
And heaven, the guard of this beloved roof
And my soul's treasure, the heaven-ransom'd maid
For heaven, when thou art present, hems thee round
With her own legions!

[Exit Abdon.
ACHAN
—SOLOS.
Go—and when those walls
See thee again, may'st thou possess thy love!
But I'll provide for thy security
And teach thee such a lesson as shall lay
Thy stormy passions, all thy hopes and fears
Thy love and, all thy anxious cares to rest.
If thou attend'st to the philosophy
By thy new masters taught! I go to find
The unsuspected means, and then, the fair
(If Zalmon come not with his prouder claim
To thwart my wishes) will reward my vows—
If he delay, the grateful King bestows
The blooming maid; as my discovery's price—
Should Zalmon come, and conquer, yet perhaps
The pious warriour's heart is free! and then—
O, transport! O felicity! he brings
The conquering troops of Judah, and for me
Scales those imperious battlements and gives
The treasure to my arms! It must be so—
I soon will visit this proud fair, and try
Whether (if Abdon were removed,) my suit
Could touch her breast, for, while he lives, he reigns
O'er her soft bosom in full sovereignty
And Zalmon may arrive, the storm of war
May thunder round our gates; her enginry
May shake our turrets, ere a moment's given
To shake her firm resolve!—dead silence reigns
Thro' every room! the place is all my own—
First, I'll secure the lover! then I'll try
If I can fill his room.
The time is fit to touch a virgin's heart
When her nice scruples, and her virgin fears
Are laid to rest, and softer thoughts begin
To spread their downy plumage o'er the mind.

Exit.