University of Virginia Library

SCENE XI.

Godrick, Albert, Ariana and Matilda.
Albert.
Oh, where? give way, and let my eager Arms
Press that dear Maid, and bind her to my Heart.
O, Ariana! is it giv'n me then
To clasp thee thus, thus fondly to my Bosom!
This tender Minute pays an Age of Care;
Expells all Fears, all Torments from my Mind,
While feeble Hope gives way to fiercest Joy!
Let me devour thy Beauties, feed to Death:—
Oh, we will never, never part again.

Aria.
O, Albert! all my Hopes, my Soul is thine;
You take up ev'ry Portion of my Heart;
And here, to Death, I swear thee lasting Truth:
But more I cannot; evil Stars prevail,
And doom our Passions to a Virgin Grave.
My Father vows to tear me from his Heart,
And bar me all the Honours of his Name,
If I pursue my tender Hopes in thee.
Now what remains for me, unhappy Maid;
But to devote my future Days to Woe,
To heavy Anguish, and to black Despair.

Albert.
No, Ariana, Love shall light his Torch,
And we'll be blest as faithful Lovers should.
Your Father's Curses shall, like idle Winds,
Fly far away from all our soft Delights:
Uninjur'd; Malice is too foul a Crime
To ruin Worth, or baffle virtuous Hopes.

Aria.
Hah!—Would you have me brave a Parent's Rage?
And bend to Earth a hoary Head with Grief!
No; tho' his Pride, his Cruelty, his Rage,
Deprive my Soul of ev'ry earthly Joy,
But conscious Virtue and unshaken Truth:
What Wants I feel, and whatsoe'er I suffer,
Oh, bless him, Heav'n, with length of happy Days;
Be Sickness, Sorrow, Shame, unknown to him;
Thou, Time, that conquer'st all things, there be kind,
And lead him easy, thro' a soft Decay;
Gently, oh! gently lay him down in Death;
And let me wait, to share his parting Pray'r!
To catch a Blessing from his fleeting Soul.

Albert.
O, force of filial Love! Look down, ye Pow'rs,
And wonder at the perfect Work you've wrought!
Preserve such Virtue for the gen'ral Good,
That wav'ring Man may gaze with Rapture here,
And from Example fortify his Soul:
Oh, make her happy, as such Worth deserves,
And justify your Rule by gracious Ends.

Aria.
Ah! we're betray'd!—heard you that Sound of Feet?
'Tis Death to stay!—Matilda, Godrick, haste,
Examine all the Avenues around
To trace a latent Foe;—a Foe to us,
Which Curiosity or Mischief makes;
I dare not here remain; come, Albert, thou,
And take the Shelter of the neighb'ring Grot,
Observ'd, there is no Safety here for thee:
There bring us word when Apprehension dies.