University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE changes to the City of Verulam.
Enter Cassibelan, solus.
Cass.
The Morning flutters on the Mountain's Top,
And Rising Faulcon-like, goes towering up.
The smoaking Mists, and steaming Vapours, flie;
And Stars, in stronger Light, grow dim and die.
Small Streaks at first, the blushing Skies betray,
Then rushes on a-pace the springing Day.
And yet it lends us but a glimm'ring Light,
Nor willingly succeeds the dismal Night.
When Ghosts in screaming Swarms were seen to fly,
When Tempests toss'd the troubled Ocean high,
And Peals of Thunder tore the flaming Sky,
I dream'd (the while I slept) of Murders, Rapes,
A Thousand Horrours, in a Thousand Shapes.
I saw, methoughts, my Love with ruffled Hair,
Her Robes all torn her, panting Bosom bare;
By Heav'n she comes, oh! my prophetick Fears,
O welcome to my Soul; but why in Tears?
[To Camilla entring.
How came you hither; Speak, and ease my Pain,
No Matter how; since you are here again.

Cam.
Clasp me not, Prince, with this so kind Embrace,
Nor keep your Eyes fix'd on my shameful Face.
Oh! give me not, this dear, fond welcome Home,
Which you will grudge, when you know, how I come.
Curse the vast Ransome I was forc'd to pay,
And drive me from you with disdain away.

Cass.
I cannot grudge a Ransome you could give,
One only; which you would not lose to live.
I cannot think that Treasure ever giv'n:
I know thee true, I know thee, chast as Heav'n.

Cam.
Heav'n may be forc'd; did not the Giants once
Assault the Sky, and scale the Sacred Sconce?
Think where I've been; oh! think, unhappy Prince,
Since you return'd, think what I've suffer'd since.
Betray'd to all the Wrongs a Maid can bear,
Which you, unhappy, you who love me, share.
Look on your self, poor Prince—but oh! to see
The greatest Wretch now living, look on me.
To tell you more; ev'n injur'd Virtue's loth,
One Hellish Act, one Fiend has ruin'd both.

Cass.
The Thunder grumbl'd long, before it fell,
But now it drives me to the lowest Hell.
Tho' Death to Miseries like mine is due,
Yet I will live, my Love, to comfort you;
Your Tears, within your swelling Eye-Lids keep;
You wreck my Soul the more, the more you weep.
Oh! keep those Gales, those Gusts of Sighs supprest,
Repose your Sorrows in your Lover's Breast,
Lull in my Arms, your anxious Cares to rest.

Cam.
Thou dearest, best of Lovers, loveliest Youth,
How shall I recompence thy matchless Truth?
I've been abus'd even to the last degree,
Thou too hast been abus'd;—tho' not by me.
Oh! should you think, that e'er my Soul agreed,
Or e'er consented to the sinful Deed;
That, that alas! would double all I bear,
Drive me to Madness, plague me with despair,
Plunge me in Hell, hotter than Fiends have there.

Cass.
By Heav'n I know you chaste, the Wrongs you bore,
Serve only to endear you to me more.
My Passion is the same; the same my Heart,
Of which you have not lost the smallest Part.
Rather with quicker Beatings, feel it move,
And struggle to you with redoubled Love.
I love You, by the Gods, to that excess,
Which even no Love-sick Poet can express.
Thou wert the dearest Health I had to boast,
And Life, in losing thee, was almost lost.
But since the Gods indulgently restore,
And give thee back; I can but prize thee more,
And strive to keep thee better than before.

Cam.
Sure this unimitable Goodness can
Spring only from a God; oh more than Man!
Here, in this Kiss, my Prince, receive my Soul,
That still was thine, that still is pure, and whole
Oh! hear me, hear me Gods! if e'er I prove
Ingrateful to this World of wondrous Love;
May I live ever branded with the Name,
I dare not mention for the killing Shame.

Cass.
Gods! 'tis too much for Man, such Charms as thine,
Have, as they merit, an effect Divine.
While thro' thy Lips the murmuring Accents break,
I listen with belief that Angels speak.
Each Word with subtle Force a Passage gains,
Runs thro' my Blood, and dances in my Veins.
Speak, till I stop you with an eager Kiss,
(Embracing)
Your Tongue shou'd know no stop—but this—and this.
Your Lips are still the same, my Heavenly Dear,
I taste no Ravisher, no Roman here.
Since thy transporting Sweets continue such,
He got but little—Yet he got too much.
I wou'd not lose one Look, one Touch of thee,
Tho' still the Rapture was reserv'd for me.

Cam.
Revenge me, Prince, 'Tis all I live for now,
Let sudden Vengeance strong Affection show.
Gods! give the Villain to me; let him stand
Within the reach of this remorseless Hand:
I'd set him on the Rack, and see him ply'd
With Fire and Sword, long tortur'd 'ere he dy'd.
His Soul and Body at a Tread I'd crush,
Spurn him, oh! spurn him; tear him, tear him thus.

[Spurns the Ground, and tears her Hair.
Cass.
Forbear, thou injur'd Innocence, forbear,
And leave your Vengeance to your Lover's Care.
If Heaven is not of all its Gods bereft,
Or if in Men there's any Valour left,
I will revenge; let, quickly let me know
The Villain's Name; 'tis all I stay for now.
What need I ask? Paulinus?

Cam.
No: 'Twas he
Who pitying our Misfortunes, set us free.
But Decius:—curse upon the Monster's Name,
He wrought our Woes, and my eternal Shame.

Cass.
Enough: my violated Saint, adieu,
I cannot loiter longer ev'n with you.
Now from my Breast let all Remorse be fled,
I'll wade thro' Blood, and trampling o'er the dead,
Return in Triumph with the Villain's Head.

Going out.
Cam.
Hold yet—though you so nobly can forgive,
Nay love me too; yet ought not I to live?
I dare not trust my Fame to future Times
So far as to survive the Monsters Crimes.
See this—ye Gods! had this been mine before
Drawing a Dagger.
I had not been alive that fatal Hour,
But put my self above the Conqueror's Power.
Remember me, my Love, and now adieu,
And in my Death believe me chastly true.
Nay, come not near me; by my Wrongs I strike
The sooner if you do.

Cass.
I'll do the like:
[Drawing his Sword.
By Heaven we'll go together; if you go,
I'll second: By th'Gods, prevent your Blow.
Live, or I die.

[They throw down their Weapons, and run, and embrace.
Cam.
Hold, my dear Prince, to give,
The greatest sign of Love; I'll live, I'll live.
The wondrous force of Woman's Passion see,
Since I, in rigid Vertue's spight, can be
Content to live in Infamy with thee.

Cass.
Oh! Extasie of Love, oh! Heaven of bliss,
All this thou art; and who wou'd part with this?
In thy sweet Lips my ravish'd Soul I'll drown,
Wash off the Roman taste, and leave my own.

Cam.
Take yet another Love; and now away;
Our Vengeance will not let thee longer stay,
But drives thee to begin the dreadful Day.

Cass.
(Embracing)
Oh! thou hast fir'd me; all my Blood boils high;
Thou temper'st me like Thunder in the Skie,
Mak'st me too hot to hold, then let'st me flie.
No longer, righteous Powers, your Aid refuse,
Or give me, Gods! the Bolts you will not use.
Lend me, ye Furies, your Infernal Brands;
And wreath your Snakes round my revengeful Hands.
In his curs'd Breast I'll kindle all your Hell;
Revenge! Revenge!—Farewel, my Love, farewel.

[Exit.
Camilla
sola.
And canst thou weep, and let this Water fall?
For Miseries, like thine, must this be all?
No, let thy Griefs to raging Tempests rise,
Burst thy swoll'n Breast with thy tumultuous Sighs,
And roar for Vengeance to regardless Skies.
Loose to the Winds toss thy dishevell'd Hair,
[Throws abroad her Hair, and tears open her Clothes.
Tear off thy Robes, thy woful Bosom bare,
Seem what thou art, Distraction and Despair.
Now rear thy Hand at Heaven, and curse thy Birth,
Now grovel on the Ground, and grow to Earth.
Throws her self down.
Here lie-and rage, and rave, and weep, and howl;
Show (if thou can'st) the Torture of thy Soul.
The Dagger!—have I got thee once again?
This (if I durst) might ease my mortal Pain.
But so a double Vengeance wou'd ensue,
For my Cassibelan will perish too.
O! wou'd I cou'd run mad—my Brain turns fast—
I feel it whirle—and shall run mad at last.
Break my poor Heart, turn my distemper'd Brain,
Start Eye-Balls from your Spheres—
And never let me see the Light again.

Enter Boadicea.
Bo.
Poor Girl; what on the Ground? Lie still, my Child;
Thy Looks, and all thy Words are justly wild.
Lie still, and I will lie beside thee down,
Contemplating on Earth, disdain a Crown.
Alas! the proudest of us is a piece
Of this vile Dirt; and where's the pride of this?

Cam.
True, Royal Mother, and unhappy I,
Am viler than the Dust on which we lie.
Here let me take the Measure for my Grave;
'Tis all I hope that I shall shortly have.

Bo.
Way to such Thoughts as these you shall not give:
No Daughter, you shall be reveng'd, and live.
Our Troops are by your furious Lover led,
Who looks like Jove (when thundering) at their head.
I came to find you, lest excess of Grief,
Shou'd make you run to Death to meet Relief.
I heard you moan; one while your Voice was faint,
And softly murmur'd out your sad Complaint:
Then rising to a bold and angry Strain,
You spoke, as might express extremest Pain.
Like troubl'd Seas your noble Rage wrought high,
And mounting menac'd the relentless Sky.
Gods! cruel Gods! Oh tell me! do you know
These Suff'rings, do ye see this Pomp of Woe?
Sure if you did, your Light'ning wou'd be driv'n
To show the Justice of Offended Heav'n.
But ye are Gods; and living at your Ease,
You care not whether Earth has War or Peace.

Cam.
With all the Pains of Hell my Soul is torn,
Opprest with Woes too mighty to be born,
So high my Passion is, my Pangs so strong,
That sure they cannot now continue long.
The Tempest rages with so fierce a Blast,
'Tis grown too violent and hard to last.

Bo.
Oh! let me calm thy Sorrows with my Tears;
Speak, say thou wilt not die, and ease my Fears.
On thy wrack'd Breast, my much-wrong'd Child, I'll pour
These gentle Drops, and this refreshing Show'r.
Thus weeping o'er thee, with this falling Rain,
Lull thy sad Griefs and lay the Storm again.
Thus clasp thee to thy mournful Mother's Breast,
And fold thee in these well-known Arms to rest.

Cam.
Fly; lest ye be infected with my Woe;
For all that touches me, must needs be so.
Both by the Gods and Fates I stand accurst;
It was my Wrongs that made you wretched first.
My Loss has made you poor, my fatal Fall
Pull'd universal Ruine on us all.

Bo.
Once more, my Child, raise your sad Spirits up;
Like Flow'rs, you are not faded, tho' you droop.
Your Charms are still the same; the blushing Rose
Tho' shrunk with Wet, next Sun-shine will disclose
Her op'ning Sweets, and smiling, show she grows.
Your Beauty flourishes in perfect Bloom,
And happy Days roll on in haste to come:
Your Wrongs your gen'rous Prince's Flame improve,
And his Compassion has encreas'd his Love.
Relenting Heav'n decrees your Suff'rings o'er,
Doubles your Blessings for th'Abuse you bore;
Shall one black Day dawn all the White in store.

Enter Venutia
Ven.
The Priests are ready, and Arabian Gums
Have scented all the Fane with rich Perfumes.
By Sacred strokes the several Victims fell,
And all the several Entrails boded well.
Your Anger in your Royal Looks I see,
And am afraid you are enrag'd at me.

Bo.
Yes, Rebel Daughter, yes, at last I know
Your impious Love for our inveterate Foe:
But by my just resentments, e'er you joyn
With any Monster of the Roman Line;
E'er Heaven or Earth shou'd see a Match like this,
I'll take your Life, did I not hope for his.
Rise, my Camilla, rise; the Druids wait,
Scene draws, and discovers a Temple
And now they open wide the Temple-gate.
Prayers, Tears, and Sacrifice shall Heaven atone,
Importunately prostrate at their Throne,
With holy Force we'll pull their Vengeance down.

The Scene draws, and discovers a Temple. The Queen, with the two Princesses go and kneel at the Altar, while two Druids sing the following Song.
At the end of the Song an Eagle flies into the Temple, and flutters a while about the Flame of the Sacrifice; at last falls in, and is burnt.
Bo.
I thank you, Gods! for this auspicious Sign;
So perish all our Foes: Oh! Powers Divine,
If Royal Knees bow'd at your sacred Shrine.
If a crown'd Head, wrack'd with unusual Cares
Can move your Pity; if a Monarch's Pray'rs
Can pierce the Roof of Heaven, and reach your Ears;
If we are Types of you, not plac'd for Show,
But truly your Vicegerents here below;
No longer see your selves, ye Sacred Powers,
Abus'd in us; your Strength despis'd in ours.
Show that Revenge to Heaven alone belongs;
Do Justice to your selves, and right our Wrongs.

Cam.
If, dreadful Gods! a ravish'd Virgin's Cries
Have ever rais'd Compassion in your Skies;
If injur'd Honour, and unhappy Love,
Are the concerns of any Power above;
Oh! now look down, behold a rifled Maid,
Thus prostrate on your sacred Pavement laid,
Thus groveling on the Ground, implore your Aid.
See in my Tears my trembling Eye-Balls roll,
And mark the sad Confusion of my Soul.
See what a Wretch lies here, how full of Woe,
My Miseries your Omniscience needs must know,
And Justice punish him who made me so.
Now shower your Vengeance on the Villain's Head,
And with some dreadful Judgments dash him dead.

Ven.
If streaming Tears from Virgin's Eye-Lids rain'd
Untouch'd by Villain's Hands, in Thought unstain'd;
If such can make your stubborn Pity bow,
And melt you to Compassion, show it now.

Trumpets sound. Enter Cassibelan and Soldiers; Decius Prisoner. The Queen and her Daughters rise.
Cass.
'Tis done; Heaven has at last its Justice shown,
And Victory and Vengeance are our own.
Our Fortunes equal with our Wishes rise,
And Blessings fall profusely from the Skies.
Never cou'd Britain Nobler Conquest boast;
(Pointing to Decius.
But this, this Captive Monster swells it most.
Ha! Gods what ails my Love? haste, haste and save
[Camilla swoons.
Her Life, or you take back whate'er you gave.

Bo.
Away, my Soldiers, flie,
And quickly make our wretched Prisoners die.
This Moment let a Thousand Slaves expire;
Tear them with Racks, ply them with Sword and Fire;
Send them to Fiends beneath, and let them tell,
There comes a greater Fiend than all in Hell.
How fares my lov'd Camilla?

Cass.
Look, my Dear,
See your Cassibelan secures you here.
Wipe these faint Drops from your fair lovely Brow,
Recal your fleeting Soul for Vengeance now.
Look up; the Triumphs of our Justice see;
Die not with him, but stay and live with me.
The Scene draws, and discovers several Prisoners put to death by several sorts of Tortures.
Behold, thou barbarous Wretch, those horrid Scenes,
[To Dec.
View theirs, and dread thy own approaching Pains.
The Torments they endur'd were small and poor
To those which thou art destin'd to endure.
Sharp were their Deaths, but short, and quickly past,
Thine shall for Hours, and Days, and Ages last.
Then shall ten thousand Curses send thy Soul,
Where Fiends in boyling Lakes of Sulphur roll,
And Furies in Eternal Tortures howl.

Dec.
Talk not; but send me to the threatned Death,
Life is not worth the waste of Roman Breath.
Go, and prepare the Rack, the Sword, the Flame,
With all the Cruelty Revenge can frame.
Consult your bloodiest Ministers of Rage,
And search the Records of the bloodiest Age.
To make it crueller than Man can do,
Consult exasperated Woman too.
Such shall my Courage in my Suff'rings be,
My Patience such, you shall astonish'd see
How unconcern'd a Roman Soldier dares,
Embrace his Fate whatever Form it wears.

[Is led off.
Bo.
Here let the Triumphs of our Isle begin,
This happy Day makes me once more a Queen.
Our Vengeance sure, and Victory compleat;
What greater Blessings cou'd we beg from Fate?
Now, on our Foes, just Heav'n begins to frown,
Thy Wrongs, Camilla, bring their Vengeance down.
For ever, shall the Day by them be curs'd
When with rash Hands thy Chastity was forc'd.
From us the Anger of the Gods is fled,
Thou turn'st it all on their devoted Head.
Now, let the Joys of of Britain know no bound,
But all our Hills, and Shoars, and Seas resound,
And Winds upon their Wings, waft the glad Tidings round.
Io! Britannia, be the general Cry,
Io! Britannia, eccho to the Sky.

[Exeunt.
Manet Venutia sola.
Ven.
In what a maze of Fate, poor Mortals tread?
Blind Wretches, by as blind a Fortune led.
What have we suffer'd from malignant Powers?
And how deplorable a State is ours?
Some dawn of Comfort shines thro' all this Ill,
To find my Dear Paulinus faithful still,
Much from his Colleague's Guilt, my Sister bore;
But had the Guilt been his; I'd suffer'd more.

[Exit.