University of Virginia Library

SCENE VII.

Felix and Ariana.
Felix.
Whence comes it, Ariana, that you seek
These lonely Haunts, and shun your Friends and me?
Does Grief so hard beset your gentle Soul?
Or do we owe it to a softer Passion?
But that I own's a needless Question quite;
For Castor tells me you're averse to Love.

Aria.
No wonder, Sir, if Love, whose Blights I've felt,
Is slow to shoot its Blossoms forth anew:
And Castor is, I fear, a barren Soil
For any Hopes of mine to thrive upon.

Felix.
I would believe Report has wrong'd you much,
Which says my hated Foe, young Albert, shares
No little Portion of your kind Esteem:
And tell me, Ariana, is it false?

Aria.
The proudest Virgin need not blush to own
That Albert's Virtues bear a high Demand
On Honour, Truth, and Tenderness of Soul.

Felix.
Hah!—say'st thou, foolish Girl?—O, hold my Rage:—
By Heav'n the Tales I've heard are sadly true;
This Traitor to his Country has thy Heart.

Aria.
What Guilt has he abetted? Who betray'd?—
No Village-Maid can boast a whiter Soul,
Unstain'd by Vice, unsully'd by a Crime:—
Your Castor's, Sir, is foul with many Spots.

Felix.
Who pawn'd their Honour for a Tyrant's Smiles?
And sold their Country to a foreign Yoke?
Who, but thy Albert's Race, and such as they?
O, Britain! long renown'd for stubborn Worth!
Whose hardy Sons have Ages held their Fame
For Freedom, Valour, and untainted Truth!
Must now our Voice, asserting Glory's Cause,
Be deem'd a Treason to this Norman Thief?
This base Invader of our Laws and Rights.
And shall their Blood, who sought a foreign Chain
And sold their Freedom for a Robber's Favour,
Be mixt with mine, and taint a nobler Stream?
No, Ariana: Tho' my only Child;
I throw thee out for ever from my Heart,
And swear our Line extinguishes with me,
If you but sound their Names without Contempt.

Aria.
Whatever Faults debas'd his Father's Soul,
The Son inherits nothing, Sir, of them.
The British and the Saxon Names divide
His fond Affections and enjoy him all.
He loves no Norman, takes no Courtier's Pay;
But wears a Sword which no Pretence can draw,
To Honour and to Freedom sacred held.
Sure Virtue, such as shines in all he does,
Has well aton'd a failing Parent's Guilt.

Felix.
Can all his Virtues now restore our Rights?
Those Rights his Father help'd to trample down?
To Lands o'erflow'd the Banks are after vain,
They can't expell the Streams they should have stopt.
Oh, what's Repentance when the Folly stings,
Whose rank Commission Counsel would have hinder'd!
Griefs then are insolent; and only Fools
Will feel Compassion for a headstrong Wretch
Whom mere Perverseness has involv'd in Woe:
But Knaves in dull Contrition claim Contempt.

Aria.
When Albert's Father suffer'd from Remorse,
He plain'd unpity'd; and with Justice bore
The Scoffs and Scorn of true heroic Souls.
But why should they who lent no Voice or Hand,
Contract a Guilt because their Friends were base?
The foulest Streams will purge their Filth away,
And Albert's Blood—

Felix.
Still stain the odious Hands
Of Executioners, 'till all is sluic'd
To drench that Land their Ancestor betray'd.

Aria.
Can nothing move you then to gentle Thoughts
Of Worth that suffers from your settled Hate?
Long has he pin'd with hopeless Flames of Love,
And pity now should melt your rigid Heart.

Felix.
What! am I for Injustice too arraign'd!
For brave Resentment of my Country's Wrongs?
Perverse one, cease this insolent Attempt
To taint the Splendor of thy Father's Fame,
Or I shall think that Title not thy due.
Go, study Virtue, rugged, ancient Worth!
Rouse up that Flame our great Forefathers felt,
Who won those Honours you unworthy heir:
Nor trust such soft Refinements of the Schools
As strip our noblest Passions of their Force,
The Lust of Greatness and the Love of Fame!
Hah!—well I recollect another Crime,
Which has been strongly represented to me
As hov'ring o'er thee, if thou art not tainted:
You're much in Godrick's Favour; he in yours!
Take heed, my Daughter, there is guilty Love:—
Eliza too is Ariana's Friend.

Aria.
And surely happy in a Husband's Heart.
What busy Fiend is this disturbs your Peace
With idle Tales! malicious as they're false.
No; if on Earth pure Honour still exists,
'Tis deeply rooted in the Breast of Godrick;
Whose Love and Friendship are alike sincere:
I boast the Honour of the latter Flame,
Bestow'd, and nourish'd with a gen'rous Zeal:
Yes, Godrick is a Friend to Truth and Me.

Felix.
I hardly can believe thy Guilt has soar'd
To such a height as to be base with him:
But seek no Friendships foreign to thy kind;
They may be dang'rous in a different Sex.
Remember this Advice a Father gives,
Improve in innocent Reserve and Duty;
They're Virtues that become a Female Mind.
But none of Albert, let me hear no more
Of that vile Tribe, those Renegades to Honour,
As you regard my Peace, or dread my Curse.