University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

Enter Duke, Dutchess, Berino, Seraphana, Torza, Bilarmo, Mordivan, Ornuo, Chamberlain, Courtiers, Guards, Attendants, &c.
Dutch.
Come, Son, sit down. I have not, since you left me,
Indulg'd my self in any kind of Joy;
Affairs of State kept me employ'd: but now
I'll give a Relaxation to my Cares,
And revel out the Day.—Begin.

The Scene draws, and discovers Loyalty lying disconsolate on the Ground; after some soft Musick he rises, and comes forward: a white Wand in his Hand.
Loyalty.
What Light is this, that do's comply
To shine on such a Wretch as I,
Poor, forsaken Loyalty?
'Tis he! 'tis he! he is return'd,
Whose Absence has so long been mourn'd!
Return'd victorious from Command,
With Europe's Balance in his Hand!
Tune, ye Angels, tune your Spheres!
And Io-Pœans fill our Ears!

Enter Interest, and Schism behind.
Schism.
He's here! curst Chance! our Hope will fail
If he's allow'd to tell his Tale.

Inter.
Hence! Make room for a nobler Race;
I am a Native of the Place.

[Striving to thrust him out.
Loy.
This frontless Impudence forbear:
I'm rooted—What's your Bus'ness here?

Inter.
Our Bus'ness? haughty Slave, we're come
To bid our Sovereign welcome Home.

Loy.
Who are you? speak!

Inter.
I, Interest am.

Loy.
'Tis Impudence to own your Name.

Schi.
And I am Schism.

Loy.
A curse you are!
Thou'rt the Beginning of a War:
What mak'st thou here, then, now 'tis done,
Unless to bring another on?

Inter.
We have, bold Wretch, as much to do,
And are as oft at Court as you.

Loy.
As Vultures Armies do survey,
Thou dost but wait on it for Prey;
When Places fall, to watch the Prize,
While Merit sinks that ought to rise.
But, Serpent, what is thy Pretence
For coming here?

[to Schism.
Schism.
To keep thee hence.
Where e'er I've been, or e'er shall be,
I'll not endure a Spice of thee.

Loy.
The Magick of this Wand behold.
[The Floor opens.
Thus sunk your Ancestors of Old:
Down, Rebels; down, ye Twins of Fraud;
Thou, the Priest,
to Schism.
And thou, the God.
[to Interest. [They sink.
Henceforth your cursed Influence cease.
And since our Prince loves Truth and Peace,
Descend, you sacred Pair; this Wand
Your swift Attendance do's command.

A Soft Symphony of Musick.
Peace and Truth descend in Robes of White.
Peace.
From Heav'n, the Region of Delight,
See! Peace has took her steepy Flight,
With you, O Sovereign! to remain
'Till you have done your glorious Reign.
Late let the Powr's that Minute name,
When you ascend from whence you came,
Old in Years, and old in Fame.

Truth.
Thee mighty Pillar of the State,
See Truth descends to celebrate.
I too, your Triumphs come t'attend,
Of all Crown'd Heads my greatest Friend.

Loy.
Each Man, 'tis said, when we combine,
Sits happily beneath his Vine.
Enjoys what e'er was made to please,
Health and Plenty, Mirth and Ease.
And now (if you approve the Choice)
I here can shew you, roaring Boys,
Whose Loyalty is Drink and Noise.

Truth.
Some perhaps may loyal be
That have no Love for Peace, or me;
Those Bullies seem that giddy sort;
But prithee shew us Country Sport.
There the Golden Age began,
And there is still, tho' weak and wan,
The most Remains on't seen in Man.

Loy.
I will—Appear you happy Swains,
And rural Lasses of the Plains;
Shew how you live, and what you gain
By a righteous Monarch's Reign.

Enter Foresters of both Sexes, and dance: After which, one of the Swains sings this
SONG.

[Exeunt.
Peace.
Here you shall never see Contest,
But who loves, sings, or dances best:
What Happiness that Life attends
Which Innocence begins and ends!

Truth.
And while we here have our Resort,
Like Happiness shall shine at Court.
About our gracious Prince we'll twine;
He the Elm, and we the Vine:
Supporting us, his Name shall be
Made famous to Posterity.

Loy.
Of Joys we'll open all our Store,
And, those exhausted, pray for more.
Each Minute shall exceed the past,
Till his unweildy Bliss, at last,
Is grown so great, that when above
He comes to rest in Light and Love,
He sha'n't distinguish his Remove.
To us alone the Pow'r is giv'n
Of making Earth resemble Heav'n.

[Here they retire bowing: The Scene closes upon 'em.
[The Company rises.
Duke.
Such moral Entertainments are not found
In foreign Courts; I'm glad you use 'em here.
Mirth is so mixt with Decency, at once
It does instruct and please.

Dutch.
These Pleasures done, we'll search for fresh.
As far as Heav'n transcends the Joys of Earth,
So shou'd the Courts exceed the Vulgar Mirth.

Duke.
I thank you Madam—'tis a Joy to me
To see you pleas'd, a Pleasure greater far
Than theirs for my Return.

Dutch.
My Satisfaction now o'ercomes my Grief.
[Aside.
O 'tis too great to last! this Scene will change.
I've gone half way
To make your Favourite Agnon some Amends
For bringing happy News, and now the Time
Calls me to do the rest.

Duke.
He will deserve the Favour: I'm oblig'd
In his Behalf. I wonder he's not here.
He does not use to stay from me so long.

Dutch.
He has a good Excuse, and when he sees you
Will tell you what I mean.

[Exeunt Dutchess, and her Train.
Seraph.
I must attend the Dutchess.

Beri.
She must then
Have me too in her Train.
Where shou'd the Body be but with the Soul?

[Exeunt Seraph. Beri.
Duke.
Ha! I neglect to undeceive my Uncle.
But yet 'tis Time—O here my Agnon comes—
Withdraw.
[Exeunt Ornuo. Mordi. Cham. Attendants.
Enter Agnon.
My Friend! my Brother of the War!
Where hast thou hid thy self? My only Grief
Has been the want of thee: But now I have thee thus
I'll hold thee fast. Were but the fair One here
That I so oft have told thee of, I then
Shou'd have no more to ask, or Heav'n to grant;
My Joys wou'd be compleat.

Agnon.
And mine are so! or if I've any Grief,
'Tis to be happy before you. The Dutchess
(Who does sollicit her in my Behalf)
Designs a Match between me and her Fav'rite,
The beauteous Adorissa.

Duke.
Ha!

[Starts.
Agnon.
If you, that never yet deny'd me ought,
Give your Consent.

Duke.
Why, Agnon, have you her's!

Agnon.
No, Sir. She has declar'd
She will not marry me without your Leave.

Duke.
And that was what she knew I ne'er wou'd give.

Agnon.
My Lord?

Duke.
Unhappy Youth!
I will not let thee split upon this Rock
For want of Warning. This is she, O Friend,
This very Adorissa is the Lady
I went so oft in Privacy to visit.
'Tis true, I did conceal her Name from you,
Which was, indeed, a Fault; for Friendship does
Admit of no Reserve—But do not grieve,
I'll find a Way, if Wealth or Pow'r can charm,
To make you Reparation.

Agnon.
O Sir, you are too excellently good!
Your Pardon's all I ask. Where you are pleas'd
To place your Love, 'tis Arrogance for me
To hope Return of mine: I'm glad she's yours,
For you indeed alone deserve the Blessing.

Duke.
Then go my Friend, strive to divert my Mother
From importuning me in thy Behalf:
I wou'd, if possible, deny her nothing.—
[Exit Agnon.
How great this young Man's Friendship is, that does
Renounce his Hope for me, I feel my self;
'Twere Death to me to part with her a Day;
Nor Life, nor Crowns, cou'd charm, were she away.
But see! she comes!—So after a black Storm,
Th'unclouded Sky with Wonder we behold,
Where late the Light'ning flash'd, and Thunder roll'd.
Enter Adorissa.
O Beauty! Innocence! O Heav'n it self!
For what is Heav'n but a delightful State,
Where Sadness is forgot, and Pleasure lives?
So where thou art, no Misery appears,
We lose the Memory of all our Woes,
And thou art the Oblivion of our Cares.

Ador.
May you still think so: I wou'd be to you
That Blessing that you hope: But my sad Heart
Does beat another Tune. A thousand Fears
Live in my troubl'd Thought, and to my Mind
Present a dismal Scene. Give me again,
Ye Pow'rs, my Range among the Fields and Groves,
And murm'ring Streams, where Innocence and Truth
For ever dwell, and their soft Offspring Love,
Does warm, and never scorch. Yet why these Fears?
Ill suiting with this happy Day at Court,
And to my Thoughts of you; who are whate'er
A longing Maid that weeps, that dies for Love,
Can either wish, or hope!

Duke.
O Truth! O Softness ne'er to be exprest!
She wins! she grows upon my Soul!
O let me press thee in my longing Arms!
Thus lock'd in my Embraces, and my Vows
Of deathless Love repeated, you must own
That all your Fears are vain.

Ador.
So may they prove.
But O I am to tell you the good Dutchess
(Whose Tenderness to me can't be express'd,
For sure she loves me equal with her self)
Solicits me with all the Earnestness
Passion can frame in the Behalf of Agnon,
Who dies, she says, if I deny him Love.

Duke.
'Tis true, by Heav'n, he said my Mother mov'd
The Match, and was his Advocate to you:
But seeing thee, it left me like a Dream.
Ev'n Jealousy it self, that mortal Bane,
Which other Beauties by their Falshood kindle,
Thy Virtue does extinguish; like a Spell,
A Magick Circle round thy Lover's drawn,
The Fiend can't enter there.

Ador.
Nor is this all:
My Mother, too, has undertook the Cause,
Commands, intreats, persuades, and will, I fear,
Proceed to harder Treatment. I am lost
Unless you interpose.

Duke.
Lost! Nature first
Shall fail, and all the Frame of Things dissolve!
Alas! without thee I am lost my self.
Thou art my Northern Star, brighter than that
By which the Sailor steers! the Point to which
My trembling Love inclines.
Thou'rt all magnetick! Others draw our Eyes
To gaze a While; but take the Face away,
Th'Impression's gone: But thy attractive Rays
Does fix the Soul; and we no more can move
By our own Strength, than Needles from the Pole.

Ador.
I know not how to answer Words like these:
I only know I love, and know I'm true,
And fly to you for Shelter from the Storm.

Duke.
What Storm can reach thee here?
[Embrace.
Thou'rt guarded by Divinity it self,
The holy Sanctuary of Sov'reign Pow'r,
And by thy Innocence, the Arms of Heav'n.
'Tis true, indeed, I'm sorry for my Friend.
But if our Love, or rather Extasy,
Will give us Leave but to consult with Reason,
What can we fear? If, as you say, my Mother
Esteems you to that Height, she will be glad
Of your Advance; at least your Mother will.
Or if they both my Passion disapprove,
Who dares controul me in my Power, or Love?

Ador.
O Heav'n! another that were blest like me,
And lov'd like me, wou'd be quite lost in Joy!
Yet see these Tears, in spite of me they fall.
Th'ominous Drops blast all my smiling Hopes;
As Moisture that from baleful Yew is shed,
Kills every Plant that's near.

Duke.
'Tis a Mistake, my Love, they're Tears of Joy.
Nature opprest with a too vast Delight
Relieves her self this way: Like April Show'rs
Their warm prolifick Influence will revive
Thy drooping Joys, and make 'em smile like May,
With all her Sweets broad blown.—No more! no more!

Ador.
I cannot stop the Current, it will flow!
My trembling Joints refuse to bear my Weight.
O blame me not, my Lord, for leaning here.
Oh!—

[Weeps.
Duke.
Ha! sure, my Love, there's Magick in thy Tears!
See! I am melting too.—My Eyes run o'er!
I wou'd not weep, but must—'Tis wond'rous Strange!
Yet there's some Comfort, we may blend the Streams.
[Kissing her.
Thus mixt our Tears are Emblems of our Minds,
No more to be divided.—
Look up, my Fair, and dry thy radient Eyes;
Like an unclouded Heav'n shine out at full,
That I may have the Blessing of thy Beams
To warm me into Joy!

Ador.
You shall, my Lord!
My Life! my Royal Love! were I possest
Of Kingdoms, Empires, Worlds, you shou'd have all!
See! here I bid Adieu to all my Fears,
And fly into your Arms.—
O take me to you!
Here I must live, here wou'd resign my Breath:
Dissolving here, I shou'd be charm'd in Death.

Duke.
Talk not of dying, we shall live, my Love,
All Happiness our own.—O let me press
Thee thus, and hold thee ever in my Arms!
O Glory! Brightness! O Seraphick Form!
What Sweets hereafter must Fruition give?
I can but now just look on Thee and Live!

[Exeunt.