Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric by the Revd. H. Boyd ... containing the following dramatic poems: The Helots, a tragedy, The Temple of Vesta, The Rivals, The Royal Message. Prize Poems, &c. &c |
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 | Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric |  |
SCENE III.
An apartment in the Palace of the Queen.The QUEEN, TIRZAH.
Tirz.
O Princess! yet reflect! a husband's love
By arts like those was never yet regain'd!
Vengeance may quench the flame, if any spark
Should yet survive, but ne'er can wake the fire
In such a heart as his—recall thy words
And bid thy messenger return! this hour,
Perhaps this moment sees the spell begun
That calls the fiends of discord from the deep
And poisons homebred joy.
Queen.
Were I a slave
Call'd by th'inconstant smile of royalty
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Like a fond flower to bask beneath the beam,
Then hang my patient head, surcharg'd with dew
And patient weep the sun's departing ray
Thy lessons might have weight! But I was born
Of one, whose voice, by him that lords it now,
Was dreaded worse than thunder! when thou seest
An eagle's aiery breed the patient dove
Then preach forbearance! when thou seest the drops
Of autumn wash away yon lofty frame
That lifts its brow to Heaven, expect my tears
Will melt a stubborn heart!
Tirz.
Nor prayers nor tears
Would I advise, but patience, and the calm
Of resignation, unassuming worth,
Virtues, that speak by action, and confess
That more than mortal guest that dwells within
That soul-subduing grace, whose cherub smiles
Can reach the heart, and bid revolting love
Obsequious, own your sway,—forgive my zeal
If my too liberal tongue offend! but late
You thought more calmly, and confess'd these arts
Were not below your care, by arts like these
(So well conceal'd, they seem'd no longer art)
Not many moons ago you thought you saw
His love returning.
Queen.
This augments my grief
That then, from bloody wars but new return'd
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And brought again forgotten times to view
My faithfulness and zeal, when for his life
(Threaten'd by angry Saul, who sent his slaves
With bloody purpose) I expos'd my own,
Sav'd him from slaughter, and a crown bestow'd—
This he remember'd, and methought, I saw
The tender lover o'er the king prevail,
And halcyon days return! when, like a blast
That withers all the genial blooms of spring,
This syren came, a suppliant, as it seem'd,
Drest for persuasion, tho' in weeds of woe,
In all the winning eloquence of tears
Adorn'd. And with a pious charge, to gain
A brother's pardon. So the rumour past,
But all was fraudful practice, all design'd
To ruin my projected schemes, and lay
My tow'ring edifice of hope in dust.—
I will not bear it.—By the awful name
Of him, whose blood I share, his ghost shall see
Ample revenge for his insulted line!
Tirz.
Oh yet reflect! you draw a scene of guilt
With Rumour's pencil, from imagin'd wrong!—
Must Israel's sacred monarch be aspers'd
Because Uriah left his blooming bride,
And to th'inviting couch of love, preferr'd
The warrior's lonely bed. He might have stay'd—
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Till the revolving moons had brought again
His nuptial day . His fellow-bridegrooms all
Pleaded the law, nor for the martial trump
Would change the hymeneal lyre. But he
Disdain'd the flowery chaplet, and put on,
With pride, the warrior's plume. His spouse's prayers,
Her adjurations, and her trickling tears,
That heighten'd every charm, unmov'd he bore,
When honour call'd. And must we then conclude
That fixt aversion in her bosom grew,
Because her lord preferr'd his country's call
Before ignoble ease? Such merit claim'd
Encrease of love. And must Bathsheba stray
Down that alluring path where pleasure leads,
Because Uriah chose the rigid path
Where honour marshalls on her hermit train?
—Not such effects from such examples flow!—
Queen.
The blessed sun that bids the flower expand,
Matures the poisonous weed. And scorn with scorn,
And hate with hate the female heart repays
Oftner than tame servility, inspir'd
By contumelious negligence and pride.
Would heaven I could forget—but thy defence
Brings to my mind the hateful circumstance
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Glow'd at her opening beauties, when he sought
Her father's house, a refuge from the rage
Of his pursuers! Hope inspir'd his vows—
But when he learn'd Eliam's solemn vow
Had given her to Uriah, he resign'd
His love to friendship: with dissembled virtue
He gave her—but to make her more his own!
Tirz.
Thus still suspicion clouds the noblest deeds,
With her Tartarean shades! Let Reason speak,
Reason will tell, that if she scorn'd her spouse,
Who sought, at Honour's call, the bloody field.—
She too must scorn that lover, who resign'd,
At Friendship's voice her blooming virgin charms.—
Reason will tell, that he, whose strenuous hand
Could shut the pleasing image from his heart,
At Friendship's call, would never wound the peace
Of one, for whom he sacrificed his feelings!—
O then my sovereign, hear thy servant's plea,
Recall your mandate! trust not vague report,
Nor be it ever said that she, who draws
Her blood from Israel's first and mightiest king,
Should seek the level of the slave, and mine
Domestic peace! 'Tis nobler far to look
Above such injuries! and leave to time
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If he have stray'd!
Queen.
Thinkst thou I would proceed such dreadful lengths,
Without the clearest proof?
Were it but casual, there indeed were hopes
Of speedy reformation. But I fear,
I fear! nay, I am certain. Years on years
Have seen their passion grow! It ne'er can be,
It gives the lie to reason, that a glance,
A casual look, tho' arm'd by Heaven or Hell,
With all their enginry, should fire the heart
At once. Of spells and magic I have heard,
But not believed. And there are men whose hearts
Yield at first onset. But, 'mongst such, the name
Of David numbers not.
Tirz.
There must be charms
Of mind, as well as person, to secure
Lasting esteem; unhappy is that fair,
Who, trusting to th'enchantment of the eyes
Alone for conquest, when th'artillery fails,
Has no supply of mental charms within.
Hers is a short dominion!
Queen.
To her charms
The fair adult'ress trusts not! There are powers
Whose strong assemblage keeps her in the throne
Of royal favour. And, should she be cast
Aside, the busy panders soon would find
Another in her room! By her, they rule;
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This royal engine to their sordid ends.
And, does it not become my birth, my place,
To scatter that obnoxious cloud, that damps
The royal virtues? Long the sacred lamp
Of Judah has burn'd dim beneath the gloom,
But soon it shall revive, and justice reach
The trembling victim, tho' behind the throne.
A loyal few, who lov'd my father's name
(Trusty and bold, all friends of antique stamp,
Who mourn my degradation feel the fall
Of her, that added lustre to the name
Of Bethlehem's haughty lord,) shall aid my views.
To David's counsels they shall find their way,
And force attention to the people's prayers.
The house of Saul again shall lift its head
In ancient splendour, on the blasted hopes
Of those, who scoff her faded fortunes now.—
But, see! my faithful messenger returns;
His chearful looks proclaim the deed is done,
And I shall rest in peace! But thou retire.
His message needs no witness.
Tirz.
Heaven forefend
Those evils, which my sad presaging soul
Sees in approach, perhaps before the sun
Descends; for council now is all in vain.
[Exit Tirzah.
| Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric | |