University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

A FOREST.
Enter Lucius alone.
Luc.

[Walks down the Scene, and Exit.
Enter, at another Door, Arminius and Sylvius.
Arm.
Sylvius, thus far our Fortune has been fair,
But I grow jealous of a Counter-turn.
Methinks the Captain who commands the Guard,
Has much of Vortimer, the cunning Briton;
I more than fear, it is the King himself:
The Care he takes to shun my Speech and Eyes:
I'm caught in the same Net I cast for others.

Enter an Alban Lord.
Alb. Lord.
My Lord, 'tis certainly the King of Britain,
He bears the Royal Signet on his Finger:
The Queen, and you, and we are now his Captives.

Arm.
Shall Rosalinda know this fatal Turn?
It will too much her tender Heart affright;
My Resolution must be very sudden.
The Gallick King hunts near, I'll hasten thither;
His Guards are thrice more numerous than ours:
Sylvius, mean time, do thou the Queen amuse.
'Till I return, my Lord, oppose their Flight;
She is our Sovereign, thou art born her Subject:
All's now at stake; kill him, or fall thy self.

[Ex. omnes.
Enter King Vortimer.
K. Vor.
Enter the Queen.

Queen.
Arminius wou'd a-while take shelter here.

K. Vor.
The Ports will instantly be stop'd,
By Noon your Flight must be the publick Theme;
Yet a few Hours, and you've the Waves in view.

Queen.
Go find Arminius, tell to him thy Reasons,
And we will instantly depart.
[Ex. K. Vor.
Depart, for what? or where? my Torment's fix'd,
No Change of Scene can vary my Misfortunes;
The Princess now, may gain the Vows of Lucius,
That solemn Faith he plighted first to me;
Their Hands may join, and she have all his Transports;
That Height of Wish! that Extacy of Soul!
When his bright Eyes spoke better than his Tongue,
Darting delight; for Love was all their Language.
Ah! wretched Rosalinda, whither now?
Think on Otharius: there thou'rt lost indeed:
Thy Lord was slain by him, whom thou hast wedded.
Blot out with your, 'till now, unerring Hand;
Blot out, ye Pow'rs, that single murd'ring Thought.
Tear from the destin'd Book, that cursed Deed,
All other Woes for ever stand recorded.

Re-enter King Vortimer.
K. Vor.
Madam, the Prince is no where to be found,
We must proceed without him, or you're lost.

Queen.
And, what art thou (unus'd to such a Presence)
That, with rude Sounds, presum'st t'affront our Ears?

K. Vor.
Come willingly, for fear you should be forc'd.

Queen.
Who waits? my Guards! Arminius, help!

K. Vor.
Thou call'st in vain, a greater Force is here:
It is the King of Britain, who conducts thee.

Queen.
Ha! my haughty Foe, the cruel Vortimer!

K. Vor.
You're now within my Pow'r, and can't escape.

Queen.
No! I will never stir, I'll grow to Earth.
Heav'n! let me change my Being with the Brutes:
Nay, welcome Death! rather than go with thee.

K. Vor.
Take heed, how you provoke a King like me:
Mine is a surly, uninvited Cupid:
No willing Harbour finds he in my Breast.
On War, on Empire, all my Thoughts were fix'd,
'Till thy malignant Form intruded here.
Give me my self! I ask but to forget thee.

Queen.
A never-failing Cure for Love, is absence.

K. Vor.
Oh! 'tis a tedious One, and racks the Mind;
Nor has it wrought the wish'd-for Cure on me.
Thou'st been my curs'd Tormentor, since the Time
I first beheld thee, with my Foe, thy Father:
Now I'll revenge me on that Tyrant Beauty.

Queen.
Oh! hear me, King: I am already marry'd.

K. Vor.
Then Furies seize thy Husband! what's to be done?
Yield thou to be divorc'd, and reign our Queen.

Queen.
Thy Queen! not to command the Universe;
And yet I wish, that I had never wedded.

K. Vor.
Born of an hated Race, and lost to me.
May I not ravish her, I cou'd not win?
May I not seize, what wou'd not be bestow'd?
I dream of bless'd Enchantment in her Arms:
I, restless, burn, and rave on furious Joy.
And nothing but Possession can asswage
The Love-sick, raging Fever of my Soul.

Queen.
Ruffian, forbear! whence comes this Prophanation?

K. Vor.
Revenge and Love, are both in Arms within.
Thy Eyes, and Scorn, burn me with different Fires.
Urg'd on to War, and eager for the Conquest,
I cannot part inglorious from the Field.

[Struggles with her, she falls at his Feet.
Queen.
Oh! Woe for me.
Thus far I'm vanquish'd, and thus low subdu'd.
I clasp thy Knees, I grasp thy Feet with Horror.
Do not assault the Honour of thy Daughter;
I am the Wife of Lucius.

K. Vor.
Of Lucius! of that Rebel!
Supplanted by my Son! when wert thou wedded?

Queen.
Not one kind Hour has our sad Hymen known.
Nay, scarce the Moment smil'd, that join'd our Hands:
Successive Woes have parted us already.

K. Vor.
Thou goest with us, to see the Prince no more.
A banish'd Traytor, shall he always live:
The Hour he lands in Britain, he shall die.

Queen.
What, your victorious, loyal, Godlike Son?

K. Vor.
Unhappy Queen! thy Praises wing his Fate.
Curs'd, as I am, thus burning for thy Charms;
My vital Blood, drank up by thirsty Love,
Seizes the cordial Beauty to revive me.
Lucius has wedded thee, but not enjoy'd.
Possession is a better Claim than his:
Then instant let me make the Prize secure.
What follows, we at leisure may debate;
The present Moment takes up all our Thoughts;
This Struggle past, we are our Self again,
And our Heart free from an ingrateful Passion.

Queen.
Give me my Death, be there a Conqueror.
Arminius, Albany, help! oh help!

K. Vor.
Thou rav'st, thou call'st in vain; he hears thee not.
Rich Love, repay me now the Peace I lost.

Queen.
Whom shall I next invoke, ye mighty Pow'rs?
Lucius! where art thou now, in my Distress?
My Lord! my Lucius! where art thou my Lucius?
He comes! my Husband comes to save my Honour.

[Lucius appears at the lower End of the Scene.
Luc.
Thro' the wide ecchoing Forest, who resounds
The Name of Lucius? the Queen of Albany!
And in a Ruffian's Hand! dye, Ravisher!

Queen.
Oh! hold. Oh! horror, Lucius: 'Tis against thy Father.

[The Queen interposes, and Lucius falls at King Vortimer's Feet.
Luc.
What, was I arm'd against my Royal Father?
Against that precious Source of my own Life?
My Heart bleeds inward at the racking Thought.
If this be Fear, I never fear'd till now.

K. Vor.
Retire, and leave us with the Queen.

Luc.
Sir.

K. Vor.
Traytor be gone; thou hast no Business here.

Queen.
Oh do not Lucius, as you once lov'd Vertue;
As once you lov'd your poor unhappy Bride,
E're adverse Fate cou'd teach thy Heart to change.

K. Vor.
Some other Method must be found to part you.

[Exit.
Queen.
Above, to those bright Mansions of the Bless'd,
The grateful Rosalind, her Thanks returns.
[Kneels.
This Day, in each revolving Year, be prais'd:
Let it be mark'd the Happy, and the Fair,
And may I cease to live, when I prophane it.

Luc.
Can Falsehood seem so graceful?

Queen.
To thee, my Husband, next, with like regard
(The Instrument of my Deliverance)
I cannot say enough, my Heart is thine.

Luc.
Oh! 'tis a very false One.

Queen.
Who's false, my Lord?

Luc.
The perjur'd Queen.

Queen.
Turn not on me, the Errors of our Fate:
Joy at thy Sight, and for my late Escape,
Caus'd me some Moments to forget my Griefs;
But they return, full blown, with sharp Reproach.
Yes, Lucius, we must part; fly hence for ever:
I too must go, and make my widow'd Bed;
Where Winds and Seas, eternally at War,
Have left no Landing-place for Murderers.

Luc.
The like Forgetfulness has seiz'd on me.
Almighty Beauty quite becalms my Rage:
In looking on thee, I forget thy Crimes:
Forget, thou gav'st my Honour to the Winds;
Stuck foul Discredit on my spotless Name:
Left me to drink the bitter Dregs of Wrath,
Of burning Jealousy, and cold Despair,
Regardless of the Right, that I claim'd in thee.

Queen.
Since I am false, have I not need to fly?
Bad Woman as I am, I own my Crime;
But oh! for whom is it, that I am guilty?
In thee, 'tis most inhumane to reproach me;
Thou mad'st me Criminal, and yet upbraid'st me.
False to Otharius, Murd'ress as I am,
Ev'n now I kill him o'er again! ev'n now!
Whilst thy too gracious Form is dear to Sight;
Whilst all of thee is precious to my Heart,
And Love o'erwhelms Resentment in my Soul.

Luc.
O well dissembled Falsehood.

Queen.
Fly thou, lest we shou'd never part:
Tho' all Regards, divine and humane, plead:
Tho' Blood crys out aloud, be gone, Revenge:
Tho' Men and Angels have decreed against thee:
Tho' Shame, Remorse, and Veng'ance, call me hence,
Strong as thou art in Charms, how can I go?

Luc,
Yes, thou wou'dst go
Around the World to bear my Infamy:
The odious Load, which thou hast heap'd on me,
On me, and on thy self.
Oh! what art thou become? how art thou call'd?
The Wife of Lucius, a known Prostitute.
She who fled from him, on his Marriage-day.
Arise Revenge! arise; and force out Love.
Come Indignation, Honour, Glory come;
Strengthen my Arm, and shew me how to punish.

Queen.
Ah, Heav'ns! my Lord, you will not kill your Wife.

Luc.
Is there another Way to clear my Honour?

Queen.
What have I done? or why am I suspected?

Luc.
Arminius has thy Virgin-Shame disclos'd;
And of thy early Hours the secret Practice:
With the same Rage, as once he lov'd, he hates.
Behold this Letter—fair Perdition.
A Boy! a poor domestick Slave! low Sin!
Vile Woman! vicious Sex!
Why was I chosen? I, for this Dishonour?

Queen.
Has trait'rous Albany traduc'd my Vertue?

Luc.
Thy Self, against thy Self: See here, these Lines;
My Shame and thine! this wicked Scroll is thine.

Queen.
By Heav'n and Earth it is not! I am wrong'd.
Hear me, my Lord. Alas! where are your Eyes?
What means that Arm, uplifted to my Death?
Why do you stare, as you were turn'd to Stone?

Luc.
An unseen Power disarms me:
I idly gaze, am lost, but cannot strike.
Away, away! lest I shou'd love to Madness;
Lest I shou'd take Perdition to my Bed;
The Blot of Glory, stain'd with abject Joys.

Queen.
I ne'er writ this! never lov'd Albany!
Ne'er heard, or thought I was belov'd by him.
Oh! Torment of the Mind, to be suspected:
I, who love Honour, Innocence, and Truth,
Next Heav'n and thee, that I shou'd be suspected.

Luc.
Is it not plain? See there thy Hand, false Woman.
In spight of Charms, I shall relapse to Rage:
In spight of Love, destroy thee—Let me go.
A Miracle can only clear thy Fame,
And heal my wounded Heart.

[As Lucius is breaking from the Queen, Sylvius enters, his Breast open, torn and bloody; he falls at the Queen's Feet, Lucius supports him.
Syl.
Fly, Madam, I am wounded unto Death:
The King of Britain's Sword has pierc'd my Heart:
He's fighting with our Party, and must conquer.
My gracious Queen, I beg you wou'd forgive me.
Lucius, the Letter thou hast seen, I wrote:
Thou wert thy self the Cause—I lov'd thee, Lucius:
Lov'd thee in Britain: Follow'd thee to Aquitain;
Now, in thy Arms, unpitied, dies Alenia.
Oh Almerin! are thus thy Words explain'd?

[Dies.
Queen.
Thy Death's a Miracle to clear my Fame.
My jealous Lord requir'd a Miracle:
It is Alenia, false Arminius's Sister.
Base Man! how deeply were thy Treasons laid?

Luc.
With conscious Guilt, for being so misled;
With conscious Shame, for having thus offended;
With all the Penitence of Men convinc'd,
When they, like me, are tortur'd by Remorse,
I prostrate fall, to hear your equal Doom.
Pronounce a Sentence heavy as my Crime:
Oh! banish me from Life, but not from Love:
Send me to die, but not to live from you.

Queen.
Cou'd Fate as easily be reconcil'd,
Then might we meet in Joy. But oh! the Fates,
The Fates are angry with us, Lucius.
With thee, for murdering the brave Otharius;
With me, for wedding with his Murderer!

Luc.
I kill the King!
Who dares accuse the Innocent?

Queen.
Albany does.
Arminius and Alenia saw thee kill him:
The Sword found, broken, in Otharius's Body,
Was giv'n thee by Arminius.

Luc.
Oh! well-invented Malice:
'Tis false, 'tis false: So may the Traytor die,
Or Lucius perish.

Queen.
Did'st thou not beg of him, my Father's Sword?

Luc.
Never! that Villain has traduc'd us both.

Queen.
Oh! I believe thee, Lucius: But the World!
Clear there thy Fame, and I am still thy Bride.

Enter Irene haistily.
Irene.
Madam, the King has slain the Alban Lord,
Left, by the Prince, to guard your Majesty:
He has fought a bloody Battle with our Party,
But cruel Vortimer, at length has conquer'd.

Queen.
Alas! then I am once again his Captive.
Remember, Lucius, that which thou hast sworn;
Protect me from his Love, or thou art perjur'd.

K. Vortimer enters with Soldiers, they go to seize the Queen; Lucius draws and defends her.
K. Vor.
What! arm against thy King! against thy Father!
Wilt thou? dar'st thou? then kill the horrid Villain,
That I may curse, I ever had a Son.

Luc.
Your Life, great Sir, to me, be always sacred:
I but defend the Honour of my Wife.

K. Vor.
Then, Soldiers, strike, strike thro' the Traytor's Heart.

[They are going to kill the Prince, the Queen comes from behind, and interposes.
Queen.
Thro' me you strike; I guard my Husband's Life.

K. Vor.
Thee I can't hurt: my Eyes disarm my Hand.
Slaves, tear him thence! but do not touch the Queen,
Your Lives shall answer it, but kill the Rebel.

Queen.
Kill your Son! oh, impious, curs'd Command!
Soldiers, stand off, or else you pass thro' me.

K. Vor.
Slaves, Villains, Cowards, are you hers, or mine?

Queen.
I cannot long defend him, he must fall:
Yield, Lucius, I release thee from thy Vow.
Oh! save his Life, and I'll consent to go:
Spare but thy Son, I am thy willing Captive.

Luc.
What, hast thou giv'n thy Honour for my Life?
A vast exchange, and better I had dy'd.

Queen.
My Honour, no! That is the Care of Heav'n;
My Life I'd always give for thine.

Luc.
Oh! sacred Sir.
By all those Tyes that keep bad Men from Crimes,
From acting what their wicked Hearts conceive,
I charge you not to think of Violation,
I am your Son; she is my wedded Wife;
More were superfluous.

K. Vor.
Away. Now for the Sea.

Queen.
And may it with unbounded Rage receive us.
Blow Winds, exert on us your utmost Force,
All Nature else be free; Plunge us beneath,
Dash us on Rocks: ye cannot be too cruel;
Yet spare my Husband, amidst all your Storms.
But for this impious King and me,
War, Fire, Fury, Blood and Devastation
Pursue us, as ye did my wretched Father;
O'ertake us, as ye have the slain Otharius:
And when ye come, I shall account it Gain,
That the curs'd Briton suffers in my Pain.

[Exeunt.