University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Enter Belizaria and Gomond.
Gomon.
Now, Madam, your propitious, Stars shine clear;
The Tyrant's fal'n e'er this.

Beliz.
Did my Lord send for me?

Gomon.
He did, Madam, to see the Execution done on Damocles,
And his proud Master, of whose cursed Race
Not one have 'scap'd the eager People's Fury.
I saw his Daughters led out by two Ruffians,
Who, because Virgins, are giv'n up by the Officers;
First to be ravish'd, to evade the Law,
Then executed: Yonder, I think, they come, brought by their Plunderers,
As I suppose, expecting your Reward,
Giving you full Revenge for your Son Clindor.

Enter, Gilmunda, and Amidea with Hair dishevel'd, dragg'd by Longin and Bilboe, their Swords drawn.
Beliz.
Have Mercy, Heaven, what dreadful Sight is this?

Gomon.
Look up with Joy, Madam, and take just Revenge
Upon the hated Offspring of the Tyrant,
That wallow'd in the Blood of your dear Son.
I must to th'General.
[Exit. Gomond.

Beliz.
Dear, dear indeed!
As ever tender Mother smil'd upon,
When the Birth Pangs were o'er, but yet alas,
Tho' my poor Clindor's murther'd; how are these guilty?
But then Revenge—These are o'th' Tyrants Blood,
As my sweet Boy—was mine.

[Sighs.
Longin.

Come, come, little Lindabrides, come along,
why here's [To Amid.]
Fortune in a Bag now; gad little
did I think to have ever been a Prince of the Blood, in
right of Alliance.

Amid.

Oh Misery, Oh help, ye Divine Powers!

Longin.

Oh yonder she is! I'm sure we shall have a swinging
Reward. D'ye hear, Corporal Bilboe, shall I make the
Speech, or you?

Bilboe.

Why look'e, I must be so bold, Serjeant, for all you're
my superior Officer, to tell ye you'll find your self a Fool,
to trouble her about it; a Pox on Rewards, as the Case
stands now; my Head's upon somewhat else, and a Plague
upon Speeches too; adzooks I have such a mind to my
princely Mistress here, that I'll make none for my Part;
Speeches will take up time, gad I'm in hast [Holding Gilmund.

Gilm.
Stab me, ye barbarous Slaves; oh kill me!
Kill me, but keep off your filthy Hands.

Bilboe.

Hands, why what's the matter with my Hands?—
Humh, 'tis true, they are not made of March-pane, as yours
are; they'll serve well enough, though, for what I shall put
'em too. Come, come, adzooks you must not stand upon
Punctilios now.

[Grasps her, she struggles.
Beliz.
Oh Heaven! can there be for poor Mortality,
A Misery so great to equal this?
And can compassionate Virtue look upon it
Without Abhorrence? my Heart bleeds for 'em.

Longin.

Hem, hem, we have got these two Women,
your Enemies, safe enough, and please your Honour; we
have heard how little Master has been us'd, and like ye;
and come now out of Respect forsooth, to know what Death
you'd please to have 'em die; whether hanging, or stabbing,
or cut-throating, or any way; we are ready, and please ye.

Bilboe.

Ay, ay, we'll revenge ye, I warrant ye; say but
you the Word, it shall be done, any way, and please your
Honour.

Longin.

And as for t'other, the ravishing part, od'slid I
han't had a Princess fal'n to my Share a great while; I warrant
ye, let me alone with her.

Bilb.

I like mine mainly well, faith; I love a plump full
fed buxom Bit, you must know: I'll revenge ye, ne'er let
your Honour doubt.

Amid.
Oh, if the Sense of Pity be not lost!
Quite lost, in all the Foes of Aristander;
Let a poor Virgin—wretched in th'Extream,
And fal'n from highest State to lowest Misery,
Invoke those Eyes that seem to be relenting,
To dart one Beam of Charity.

Beliz.
Oh my Heart!
And thou chast Goddess, beautiful Diana,
How shall my Conscience answer it to thee?
That I've fulfill'd the Sacred Laws of Virtue;
If I permit thy unpolluted Virgins
To suffer Shame, whilst in my Power to save 'em.

Long.

She studies a little too long, methinks: Oh, now
I believe she's feeling for her Purse.

Bilb.

Feeling for a Pudding, is not she? I'll tell ye, as I
said before, gad you'll find your self a Fool, Serjeant,—
I don't like these Delays; if we are not fobb'd at last, I'll
be hang'd: Oons, if I might have carried it, I had been married
to my Princess, or as good, by this time.

Gilm.
Oh most abhor'd of Slaves! Heavens! now, methinks,
My stubborn Soul could condescend to beg,
If I could get by't a Sword or Dagger.

Long.

'Dslight, I tell thee she is feeling for her Purse;
see, see there, now Corporal Codshead, who's the Fool
now?

Beliz.
No, it shall never be declar'd in Story;
Or said in times to come, that Belizaria
Expos'd the Temple of Virginity
To the vile Force of horrible Pollution,
Through her Default,—here Friends—I know you brought
These Prisoners thus, to shew the readiness
Of your Good Wills, in furthering my Revenge.
Take then my Thanks with this, and leave 'em with me:

[Gives Longin a Purse.
Long.

Humh—Why, there's the Devil on't, I was afraid
of this all along, now Serjeant Shacklehead, how much is't
Hugh?

[They stare at one another.
Long.

A hundred Duckets, Corporal, 'tis more than their
Cloaths are worth, however.

Bilb.

Cloaths, hundred Duckets,—hum—but then to lose
such a, such a, no gad it won't do; why look'e, Madam—
we thank'e heartily for your Bountifulness, but we must obey
our Officer, d'ye see, and then the Law, and please ye.

Beliz.
Oh, as to those, I'll vouch with my Authority!
Go, tell your Officers—I took 'em from ye,
Who nevertheless will so dispose of 'em,
The People shall be satisfied, both theirs
And my Revenges shall be perfected;
Go, go, for Shame; [They look on the Ladies and grumble.
Ha! sure dare not mutter?
For honourably deserting a vile Custom,
Invented by some Devil, as in Disgrace
Of all Humanity,—If you are Soldiers
You should have Honour, which abhors this Action.

Longin.

Yes, yes, Madam, we are Soldiers, and we have
Honour—But, but—

Beliz.

But what, can there be better proof of it than this?

Bilboe.

But those sweet, sweet, sucking Bottles; Oons, I
shall never see such agen.

Beliz.
Away, I say, and dare not dispute;
I'll rouze up Honour in ye, if you're resty.

Longin.
Come, there's no help for't; here's a good Purse, however
But, Corporal—If I had thought 'twould have come to this—

Bilboe.

Thought, Serjeant Suckegg, [Pushes him.
a Pox upon ye,
what could ye think less? well, never was such a Prize!
never was such a Pair of dear sucking Bottles lost! a Pox
upon ye.—Come away and be hang'd.

[Exeunt grumbling and cursing one another.
Gilm.
Oh, noble Action! worthy fame Eternal.
How does her sacred Virtue dissipate
The odious Mists that lately clog'd my Reason,
And made me know my self by true Reflection!
Best of thy Sex, permit an humble Penitent,
Converted by thy heavenly Influence,
[Kneels to Beliz.
And loathing former Errors, to adore thee.
Oh pardon my late insolent Behaviour!
Tutor'd by Hell, and blinded by curst Vice;
I could not see that Purity of Goodness,
Which now Calamity's true Mirror shews me.
But oh! let Angel-pity blanch my Crime,
And true Repentance lessen thy Resentment.

Amid.
Blest be thy Days, and doubly blest thy Nights,
Thou Patroness of Piety and Honour,
[Kneels on t'other side of Beliz.
And may this Deed, so worthy of Applause,
Be still thy Glory in succeeding Ages.
Thy Fame in Songs of Joy, be anniversary,
Whilst the whole Stock of spotless Maids renown thee.

Beliz.
Ye great Avengers, that from heavenly Thrones
Pour out the Viols of your Indignation
On impious Criminals, bear Witness for me,
That midst the Crowd of my own innate Sorrows,
Some Comfort gleams, that I have done this Justice
To Honour, and to you—Your Honour safe
From Violation; Death's a trivial nothing!
Pray therefore rise,—And know I mention Death,
Lest you should cherish a vain Hope—My Pity
Would save your Lives, as it has done your Chastity;
But that's impossible, tho' I wish it were not;
Your House's Ruin, being decreed by Fate,
And th'impetuous Crowd—all sworn your Enemies.

Amid.
We cannot, must not, hope it.

Gilm.
No, being freed from lustful Villainy,
By your angelick Virtue, best of Women,
I will meet Death, with better Resolution
Than ever yet I did a vicious Pleasure
In my curst Days of Riot.

Beliz.
Bravely said,
Oh, be assur'd, had I the Power to save ye,
Spite of the Sweets, 'tis said there are in Vengeance,
Each Hair that now is growing on your Heads
Should turn with Age to Silver, but it cannot be;
Your Race are all proscrib'd, and you must die.

Amid.
The Gods allot us Patience.

[Embracing her.
Gilm.
Courage, dear Sister.
Oh let the Arms of a new Convert press thee
Close to my Breast, with Amity unfeign'd,
And beg thy Pardon for all past Remissness!
Some Grace is yet for me; for now, methinks,
The Gods inspire me to assist thy Weakness,
To stem this Gulph of Fate.

Beliz.
Pass it o'er nobly.
And prove how far your Souls surmount the Vulgar;
Remember you're the Daughters of a King,
Which, if confirm'd by your last Scene of Bravery,
I yet engage your Persons shall be safe
From Violation of unhallow'd Eyes;
Nor shall your limbs be mangled, as intended,
But laid to rest within your silent Tombs;
With all Respect to virgin Innocence.

Gil.
Oh heavenly Breath!

Amid.
Oh, the good Gods reward ye!

[Both kneeling and embrace her.
Beliz.
And since the Sheers of Fate cuts off all Passions,
And with the Brave concludes Revenge and Hatred,
Look on me calmly, as a parting Friend,
That, in the Crisis of your last Extremity,
Gives ye two signal Tokens of her Love.
First this, [Kisses them.
with pitying Tears for your hard Fortune.
A present from my Love,—then this [Gives Gilm. a Dagger.
from Honour.
A Charm to save ye from insulting Cruelty.
Use it, ye Royal Victims, as become ye;
Then fall renown'd, and peace eternal crown ye.

[Exit.
Gilm.
She's gone, whilst thus bestow'd, her fatal Present
I grasp, with an undaunted Resolution.
Oh, what a world of Wealth had I possession!
Would I have giv'n some Minutes since for this,
Which now my Guardian Genius offers me:
For this—What's this?—A Dagger: What's its Office?
Why, 'tis to make eternal Separation
'Twixt Soul and Body, with one noble Blow;
That's all, and so to free us from Distress,
And put an end to Life's Inquietudes;
Yet see, how Nature shakes at the dire Motion.
Oh Coward! would'st thou still be miserable?
Here is the World, and here Eternity;
What a vast Freight of Hopes, and Fears, and Doubts,
Troubles and Joys float on that stormy Sea,
Which yet we're sure in th'end must swallow all?
Courage, my Soul, and Dagger hold thy Sharpness!
This Strife shall soon be finish'd; come, dear Sister,
Too late belov'd, but now, my Heart's, sole Joy,
Look up, and see my Life Blood make thee Recompense.

Amid.
Oh hold! for since you're now so good to love me,
See me die first. Alas! I'm all o'er Coward,
And tremble so, that did you not assist me,
I fear I should not strike the Blow to free me.
Let me then use the Dagger in your Presence.

Gilm.
The Aid thou hast from sacred Innocence
Will make thee bold, and charm thee with new Courage:
Besides, it is my Birthright, I'm the elder,
And should die first.

Amid.
Oh! having more of Years,
You have the more of Courage; simple Tenderness
Will make me swoon when I behold you die;
And leave my Body senseless to be sham'd
By some vile Ruffian: Oh pity me, dear Sister,
And shew me how to strike!

Gilm.
Hah! she has mov'd me
[Apart from her.
With her last Words—See how the poor Soul trembles,
Like a weak callow Bird, torn from its Nest,
That knows not where to get new Habitation.
Her Fears will certainly evade the Stroke,
And leave her to Abuses—'Tis resolv'd then.
Well, Amidea, you shall conquer me;
Give me first, one dear Sister-like Embrace,
And a kind Pardon for my past Offences.
And then, sweet Soul, farewel. [They embrace.
Oh Tyrant Destiny!
Now take the Dagger, and one happy Blow,
Struck home like this, [Stabs Amidea.
seats thee among the Stars.

Amid.
Ah, 'tis done, 'tis done, dear Sister, blest be thy Hand:
Kiss me, and take my last Thanks; Oh!—Farewel.

[Dies.
Gilm.
The last of rosy Breath, came coldly to me,
[Kissing her.
A second blow: And thus I give thee mine.
[Stabs her self.
Adieu, vain Life, thou childish Bubble, blown
A while about the World, flasht off, and gone.

[Dies.