University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Enter King Vortimer and Arminius.
K. Vor.
What Pow'r, to awe the Mind, have Womens Charms,
Make the Bold fearful, and the Coward brave!
Unequal to the fawning Task, our Age
Begins too late to learn the Trade of Courtship;
Too late to study Flattery and Praise,
Or how, with Snares and Art, to catch the Sex.

Arm.
Deal we like Statesmen, for a while, in Cunning;
Your End but gain'd, no Matter what the Means:
If once the Queen be parted from the Prince,
The Lustre of a Crown will soon efface
Th'Impression made upon a Woman's Heart.

K. Vor.
Instruct us how, since the ingrateful Gaul,
In spight of our Desert, has dar'd to free her.

Arm.
Lend me your Guards, and strait prepare a Ship
Well-mann'd, and fitted to the nearest Port;
I'll tell the Queen of Dangers imminent,
Of Plots and Treason in this Court against her.
Nay more, that Albany is up in Arms,
And ready to receive her, as their Queen.
Your faithful Creature, when she's once embark'd,
Dares answer with his Head, to land her safe
(Swift as the Winds and Waters will permit)
On Britain's Shore.

K. Vor.
How shall I praise thy Care?
Who serves my Heart, does more than serve my Crown:
A nearer, dearer Interest by far.

Arm.
Give then immediate Orders for our flight,
Lest Lucius, young and lucky, shou'd prevail,
And Rosalind be made the Prince's Bride.

K. Vor.
Perish the Thought. Lucius, no more my Son,
For him I have decreed another Nuptial:
He cannot, shall not dare to rival me.
Nature wou'd plead, in vain, against my Rage.
Within this Breast, a Power superior sway,
And Nature's self, the Laws of Love obeys:
Nor Floods nor Flames can stop his head-long Course;
Ev'n Tyrants yield to more Tyrannick Force.
[Ex. K. Vor.

Arm.
Our warlike Picts, in Arms will aid our Claim,
And, with unbounded Joy, receive their Queen.
Oh Almerin, thus far Success attends us.
Tyrant, 'tis just, I shou'd thy Hopes elude:
Whilst thou shalt vainly look for us in Britain,
With thy own Sails we gain our native Coast.
But how shall this proud Dame be wrought to fly?
She'll not, with Ease, consent to part from Lucius.

Enter Sylvius.
Syl.
My Lord, the Queen's return'd, and the Prince with her.

Arm.
Where did he meet her, Sylvius?

Syl.
I do not know, my Lord.
She always goes in private to the Cell,
Whilst I, altho' her Fav'rite, am excluded there.

Arm.
Oh Jealousy! thou Torment of the Mind,
How, in a Moment, art thou enter'd here?
My Breast, my inward Soul is glowing hot,
It burns, it rages with devouring Fires.

Syl.
My Lord, what means this most unwonted Rage?

Arm.
Alas! do'st not thou see the Queen is wedded?
This last sad Hour has ruin'd us for ever.
Lucius was wanting at the Temple Rites:
Oh Fate! where cou'd he be, but with the Queen?
And she was praying with her trusty Priest.
But if, indeed, thour't wedded to my Love,
Rival! thou bed'st her not, whilst I am living.

Syl.
Sleep yet our Rage, and hear what I have done:
Irene says, the Queen preserves the Sword
Found in Otharius's Body, when he fell.

Arm.
In this distracted State of our Affairs,
'Tis all that Heav'n cou'd grant.
Wedded! Married!
O! who can know the double Heart of Woman?
If e'er the Sex be true,
'Tis in an early Bloom, before the Mind
Perceives the Warmth of Love, the Taint of Wishes:
Then they'll, at Will, ensnare, betray, destroy!
What motly Changes, do their Faces wear!
How far from Sight, lie their deceitful Souls!

Syl.
You'r blind with Rage: I pray behold this Letter,
'Tis most exactly like the Queen's own Writing;
Scarce to be known by him, who taught us both.

Arm.
'Tis very like.
The Queen her self, can scarce this Hand disown.
On the Success of this, this and the Sword,
Thine and thy Brother's Fortune hangs.

Syl.
But if the Prince shou'd kill me?

Arm.
Fear not, I'll guard thy Life with mine.

Syl.
Or the Queen find the Cheat?

Arm.
Suppose she shou'd?
She knows thee only as her Page, as Sylvius:
Not for Alenia, whom she thinks in Britain.
Remember Almerin!
Can'st thou fear ought, but losing of thy Lover?
She comes! my Rival too! oh hated Name!
I'll rally my disorder'd, scatter'd Thoughts,
And then return with Arms for his Destruction.

[Ex. omnes.
Lucius enters, leading the Queen.
Luc.
Sure, my fair Queen, when Hearts, like mine, have touch'd
The Summit of their Hopes, the Height of Bliss
Collected all within, they find the Joy
Too big to be express'd! but thus to speak,
But thus to tell thee of thy Husband's Transport!

Queen.
Oh that these Raptures cou'd for ever last!
Oh changing Deity! oh fickle Love!
Why are thy Joys not permanent, as great?

Luc.
In thee for ever blooming, ever young,
Thou great Renewer of the Spring of Love!
Thou everlasting Charmer! in thy Arms,
Tho' Ages hence, those distant happy Hours
Will seem, but as the first transporting Moment.

Queen.
Great Love, how arbitary is thy Sway!
How do'st thou give such Harmony to Words!
My Coldness all dissolves upon the Sound:
With conscious rising Warmth, my Bosom glows
To meet thy Voice, thy Breath, thy melting Touches!

Luc.
What hinders me to bear my yielding Fair,
This blissful Moment, to the Royal Bed?
There where the Sun, in all his gaudy Round,
Shall not behold a Man so bless'd as Lucius.

Queen.
Loose me, my Lord, or we are all undone:
Our Secret told, and both the Kings inform'd.
At the first Fall of Night, Irene shall admit thee,
Without the Knowledge of another Creature.

Luc.
Mean time, my Queen, I'll wander in the Grove,
And count the Minutes of expecting Love:
On fragrant Banks I'll lay me wishing down,
And rave on Joys, which thou, anon, sha't crown:
For oh! 'tis Pain to see, and own such Charms,
And be delay'd the Blessing of thy Arms.
To pause on Beauty, when Desires are high;
And only gaze, when we shou'd all enjoy.

Lucius leads the Queen to the Scene; returning, is met by Arminius.
Arm.
'Tis you, my dearest Lord, I have been seeking:
I come to rail against the faithless Sex:
I wou'd inveigh against inconstant Charms,
Against the flatt'ring Gales, and changing Winds;
Against the April-Season of the Year;
Against false Hopes, false Vows, and falser Beauty.

Luc.
Arminius thus concern'd! thus strangely mov'd!
Tears in his Eyes, Distraction in his Looks.
What mean'st thou, Albany, strait let me know?
Depend upon thy Friend, upon his Love.
Thou'rt next of Kindred to our charming Queen;
And hast a double Title to our Service.

Arm.
Behold, my Lord, and view me, as a Lover:
As One who, long, has worn the Victor's Chain:
As One who, once, did think himself belov'd:
But oh! no sooner did Temptation come,
But the Fair false One, broke her promis'd Faith,
And publickly exchang'd me for another.

Luc.
The common Frailty of the Sex.

Arm.
To pity me, oh! make the Case your own.
Give me some Time for Tears. Suppose your Hopes
By mutual Love, by mutual Transports fir'd!
Just in the wish'd-for Moment of Possession,
When ev'ry eager Pulse beat high with Joy,
And her dear Heart ready to joyn in Rapture;
Then! then to find a rival Youth preferr'd,
Wou'd'st thou not groan? Wou'd'st thou not weep like me?

Luc.
Why do'st thou pause?

Arm.
The Queen! alas!

Luc.
Immortal Powers! what Queen?

Arm.
The faithless Queen of Albany.

Luc.
'Tis impossible! Do'st thou adore her?

Arm.
Too fatally, I did.

Luc.
'Twas wronging me, when I had own'd my Flame.

Arm.
Long, long before she left the Alban Court,
The Virgin Charmer's Vows were mix'd with mine.
False from her Youth, she broke her early Faith:
Soon as her Father had his Choice declar'd,
With easy Resignation, she became
The Royal Bride of Aquitain.

Luc.
Go on, I'll hear thee out with Patience.

Arm.
What Wretch like me, so doating, or despairing!
I fought in War, as one who long'd to die:
Your self can witness how I valu'd Danger.
Otharius slain, and free to choose again:
What said she not for her late Breach of Faith?
How did she swear she ne'er had ceas'd to Love!
That I was dearer to her than the Light;
But in the tend'rest Moment of her Vows,
The Wand'rer stray'd again, and I was lost.

Luc.
Oh Heav'n and Earth! sure I can bear no more!

Arm.
Of your great Merit, jealous, I prevail'd,
And from your self drew the abhor'd Confession.
I warn'd you of the Danger, but in vain:
I durst no more, as tender of her Fame,
As willing yet to doubt of my Misfortune.
For when I but reproach'd the wav'ring Fair,
She us'd such various soothings to my Mind,
Such Vows, that Lucius ne'er had spoke of Love,
That scarce was it a Merit to believe her:
Thus was my easy Faith abus'd.

Luc.
What Proof hast thou of this?

Arm.
Oh! I had ev'ry Proof: Her Virgin Heart,
Her speaking Eyes, her Lips, her charming Tongue;
And the pale Queen of Night (on flow'ry Banks,
Whilst we invok'd her Beams) beheld our Loves.
Each happy Moment witness'd to our Joys,
True Emblems of the Sex, and her frail Vows.
For as the Moon so wean'd her fickle Passion,
The fleeting Moments bore her Truth away,
And only I am left to speak her Falsehood;
An hated Evidence of broken Faith.
And yet some Proof remains;
[Pulls a Bracelet from his Arm.
This Bracelet's of her Hair, wove with her Hand,
Which, to the Present, gave a double Value;
View well the Clasp, see her fair Self enshrin'd,
The Altar where my constant Vows I paid:
These were the Gifts she gave me with her Heart.
Why do I still such worthless Toys retain,
When the chief Jewel is recall'd?
Why yet (as sacred Relicks of our Love)
Worship the Shrine of an apostate Fair?
Hence, vain Remembrancers of past Delight,
[Stamps upon the Bracelet and Picture.
I'll tread you into Dust; live, live no more!
Her faithless Charms shall be rever'd no more!

Luc.
Why do'st thou tell, and shew these Things to me?

Arm.
That you may lead me thro' the wand'ring Maze;
That you may give me present Death, or Ease.
By those true Tears, that truest Lovers shed;
By all the Sweets of Rosalinda's Arms:
Have pity on my Royal Birth and Suff'rings:
Confess what I alas! too much suspect;
Confess, you do succeed me in her Favour:
That I may wander to the utmost Verge;
That ceasing to esteem, I may despise,
And ne'er regret, nor see the Bliss I lost.

Luc.
But that thy Breath has tainted her clear Fame,
I shou'd, with Pride, allow my self the Man,
On whom the beauteous Rosalind has smil'd.

Arm.
Then all is over: I've no more to manage.
Take, take that Letter, which has rack'd my Soul;
It could be only writ by her to Lucius,
And yet (prepost'rous Weakness of the Mind)
So much, so blindly 'twas, I lov'd the Queen,
That tho' I saw the false One's Name and Hand,
My doubting Soul wou'd scarce my Eyes believe:
In Triumph bear it to her, and reproach
For me, the Heart of faithless Rosalinda:
She ne'er shall see the lost Arminius more.

Luc.
Yet stay, and tell me where thou had'st this Letter.

Arm.
I found it in the Lodgings:
Tho' not inscrib'd to you, I thought it yours,
Because writ by the Queen.

Luc.
And yet, as sure as 'tis her Character,
'Twas not address'd to me.
Lucius reads the Letter.

“I will retire, this Evening, into the Grove: Do you,
my Love, attend me there, and destroy this Note
at the Command of

ROSALINDA.

Sylvius enters, he kneels.
Syl.
Most mighty Lords, I beg you on my Knees,
If Tears, Youth, Innocence can move your Pity,
Restore that sacred Letter you were reading:
From me, heedless, it drop'd; wild with the Loss,
Around the Court I've wept, and sought in vain,
With utmost Care and Diligence to find it.
Shou'd the Queen know it, I were lost for ever.

Luc.
To whom is it address'd?

Syl.
My Lord!

Luc.
To whom wert thou to carry it?

Syl.
Alas! I understand you not my Lord.

Luc.
Young Traytor speak, or die.

Syl.
Oh Heav'ns! what shall I say? It is my own:
A Favour of the Queen's bestow'd on me.

Arm.
Is this the Ground of her Excess of Grace?
This the true Motive of her wond'rous Kindness?
The faithful Sylvius prov'd a Minion.

Luc.
Now, where are those Delights, my Passion form'd?
Those Scenes of Bliss, which Beauty set before me,
So hard to gain, and yet so quickly lost?
O that bright Mind (for so it seem'd to me)
Where Purity, and all the Vertues dwelt,
As at their native Home: How tarnish'd, now
Despoil'd of Lustre; hateful to the Sight?
Farewel, enchanting Sex; false are your Joys:
Delusion all; no Happiness is in you.
Not one was ever True, since She cou'd fall:
Ne'er shall my Peace of Mind return to bless me:
My Royal Father's Favour I have lost,
Renown'd, till now, for Piety and Duty.
I broke those filial Bars for faithless Love;
I've chang'd a Parent's Blessing into Curses;
My Fame has taken Wing, and flies before me;
My Glory's blasted; all my Lawrels wither;
And nothing now remains for me, but Vengeance
On her—on him—on them—on all, who wrong'd me.
Dye Slave! and boast it in another World—
Arminius, why do you oppose me?

Arm.
Were such a Wretch an Object fit for Rage,
My self, as most abus'd, wou'd end him.

Luc.
He shall not 'scape with Life.

Enter the Queen.
Queen.
Sure, 'tis the Prince of Britain's Voice.
Alas! against my faithful Boy his Sword.
Is this well done, my Lord?
Or know ye not, that he is mine?

Luc.
Too well, too well! I know thy Shame and mine.

Arm.
Now Fortune work: It must be all Confusion.

[Aside.
Luc.
Unworthy of my Truth, or Tenderness!
Think not of Lucius more, nor I of Rosalind.
Mountains fall down, yawn wide thou Earth between us;
With molten Waves roll up ye sulph'rous Lakes.
Divide us Earth and Seas.
Let all Antipathies be reconcil'd,
But ne'er the Queen of Albany to Lucius!
[Ex. Luc.

Queen.
Oh Heav'ns and Earth! what can he mean, ye Pow'rs?
Or said he not, that we must meet no more.

Arm.
Now, who shall 'dare to tell the Queen?

Queen.
Alas! whence can proceed this sudden Change?
My Lord of Albany, you are our Kinsman,
And Sylvius, thou art of our Houshold sworn:
By that Allegiance that is due to us,
We charge ye speak, or see our Face no more.

Syl.
Perish the Tongue, that gives my Mistress Pain,

Queen.
Speak Wretch, or by the Power that governs all,
Thou'rt, from our Royal Presence, banish'd ever.

Arm.
When I by cruel Vortimer was sent;
First sent to court you to his curs'd Embrace,
What said you not against the Tyrant's Love?
Which I but urg'd, to prove your Strength of Mind:
For know, young Queen, your Father's Ghost wou'd rise,
Leaving immortal Peace, and the bless'd Shades
With horrid Screams, to fright your impious Bed,
If e'er his Murderer should clasp you there.

Queen.
Shield me, ye Pow'rs, from Vortimer's curs'd Love.

Arm.
But not his Son's? Confession most abhorr'd!
The Queen, with Guilt, turns pale. Oh beauteous Frailty!
How hard below it is to find Perfection.
Antipathy to all the hated Race
Shou'd work your Blood in Agonies against 'em.

Queen.
You are too bold, uncall'd, thus to advise;
Lucius most free, from his bad Father's Crimes,
Shou'd not, in Justice, suffer for another.

Arm.
With my dear Uncle's Death I do not charge him;
On Vortimer the weighty Vengeance fall!
Lucius has Guilt of an inherent Dye:
Crimes all his own, which Nature most abhorrs;
Such as must bar him from your Arms for ever.

Queen.
Now all that's bless'd forbid it!

[Aside.
Arm.
Madam, draw near: With stedfast Eyes behold
The Handle of this Sword; survey it well;
The high Ennamel, where the curious Workman
Has cast, in Miniature, your Father's Form;
Which, with the Jewels that enrich the Gift,
He gave me on that memorable Day,
When I attended you to Aquitain.

Queen.
I well remember it; most precious Relick,
The Representative of my dear Father.
Alas, alas! how ye recal my Woes:
How ye awake that killing Pain, that Grief
Which Time, in part, had hush'd.

Arm.
If for my Uncle thus, what for Otharius,
By whom you were so ardently belov'd?
But now prepare your Courage for the Shock.
Prince Lucius beg'd this fatal Sword of me:
What can a vanquish'd Man refuse the Victor?
Tho' high as Life, I priz'd the dear Remains,
Yet I was forc'd to give it, on that Morn,
When last our Army fought with your Otharius.

Queen.
Ha! whither is he going?

Arm.
I, thro' the bloody Field, with this brave Youth,
Mov'd, fighting, by the warlike Lucius side,
But his immortal Deeds can scarce be told:
Let it suffice, he met the fated King,
The Royal Majesty of Aquitain.
Some moments Fortune held an equal Scale,
Which soon inclin'd to the young Briton's Side;
Thro' the King's Heart he thrust this Alban Sword:
Sylvius and I, the dreadful Deed beheld;
The Sword was broke in two; this Piece with him,
The other in the Wound remain'd.

Queen.
Oh heav'nly Powers!

Arm.
The Victor charg'd us to conceal the Fact,
Lest Vortimer (grown jealous of his Glory)
Shou'd think he had perform'd too well.

Queen.
Alas! no more. I am a Wretch, Arminius,
Why told'st thou not thy happ'less Queen before?
Where was thy Duty, thy Allegiance then?
Thou shou'd'st have shewn my Husband's Murd'rer,
That I, with detestation, might have shun'd him.
Fatal Neglect! Oh Knowledge found too late!
Unhappy Ignorance! accursed Bride,
Never till now undone!

Arm.
Beholding you, Prince Lucius grew inflam'd,
Which, of the Secret, made him doubly careful.
Long, with a painful Silence, I oblig'd him:
Long labour'd 'twixt my Friendship and my Duty:
At last, grown big with our approaching Hopes
(The Picts being up in Arms, and wanting Aid)
Duty prevail'd; for I was bound to speak,
Your Page attended with the Sword, the Prince
(Coming from you) perceiv'd it in his Hand,
And conscious where it was design'd, drew his
(With many foul Reproaches) on the Boy.
I interpos'd: Your Majesty appear'd,
When Lucius, fill'd with jealous Rage, departed.

Queen.
The World's united Woes are in this Breast:
And yet, perhaps, Arminius is mistaken.
Nay, King Otharius too, fought in disguise:
Six were alike him arm'd; twas One of them.
I have a Proof: Irene, bring the Sword,
Found in the murther'd Body of my Lord:
If they shou'd join, Lucius and I must part.

Arm.
Dear prosp'rous Mischief, lag not now behind;
And then, oh Almerin! the Race is mine.

[Aside.
Queen.
And yet it cannot be, my search rest here.
Impossible! Fate cannot be so angry.
I will not put it to the dreadful Test.
Arminius does, oh Heav'n! I can no more.
Perish all Demonstration! unkind,
[The Sword brought and join'd.
And cruel Prince! oh! why do'st thou destroy me?
And arm Otharius to my Lucius Ruin.
My living Husband's vanish'd by the Dead.
My Lord, my Lucius, see thy wretched Bride,
The most forlorn, disconsolate of Women:
I am his Wife, Arminius.

Arm.
Forbid it Hecate, with all her Train:
Incessant Furies yell around such Nuptials:
Catch his deceitful Soul, ye bluest Plagues:
Snatch him by Piecemeals, ye avenging Fiends.
Treason and Death! oh impious Parricide!
What! wed Otharius Murderer?
Possess'd by one, steep'd in your Husband's Blood.

Queen.
I sink—the most unhappy of my Race.
Come near, my Sylvius; I wou'd rest upon thee:
Nay, Albany, thou art too good:
Wilt thou weep too?

Arm.
These bitter Tears, by Strength of Anguish wrung,
Prove, how Arminius loves his happ'less Queen.
'Tis I must guard you from impending Ruin:
Lucius has Charms to sway the strongest Mind:
Fly the Seducer, and assert your Glory.
Take Scorpions to your Bed, but take not Lucius.
Lucius! triumphant in his Sin, all gay in Blood;
Dreadfully gay with your dear Husband's Blood:
Unprecedented Horror! fly to Death,
But mingle not with him who slew your Lord:
Light up your Torch at any other Love,
None are debarr'd your Arms, but that curs'd Race
Who murder'd poor Otharius, and your Father.

Queen.
Thus greatly Wretched, what can save thy Queen?

Arm.
Your Albans are already up in Arms;
Sieze on this moment, and be yet a Queen;
A vertuous, innocent, tho' wretched Queen.
A Guard and Ship stand ready for your Flight,
Whilst, on this Royal Hand, once more I swear,
Only to live, only to die for you.

[Kneels, kissing her Hand.
Enter Lucius behind.
Luc.
How wildly are we hurry'd by our Passions!
I was to blame not to explain my Wrongs,
And tell the false One all her Perjuries.
Confront her with her Minion, and the Letter,
Till she confess our Parting is but just.
Ha! what do I see? the faithless Rosalind,
On one reclin'd, the other at her Feet.
What, have they bargain'd to divide her Favours?

Queen.
Yes, I will go, lest Fate should join with Love,
Lest I shou'd wound Otharius o'er again,
Lest I shou'd view his Murd'rer with Indulgence;
Lead, lead, Arminius,
I'll follow thee, surrounded with Misfortunes.
Ha! Lucius here! that bloody Conqu'ror, Lucius.
Save me, Arminius; take me from his Sight:
My Eyes! my Soul is fast'ned! tear me hence;
Bear thy lost Queen, where Tempests loudest roar,
And never let me see the cruel Lucius more.

[Ex. all but Lucius.
Luc.

[Exeunt omnes.