University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

The Outer-part of the Temple of Jupiter, Emmelin and Arminius meeting; She with a Dagger.
Emm.
Unfaithful Albany, is this the Trust?
Are these the Promises thou mad'st to me?
I feel the Strength of Nations in this Arm,
And thou shalt taste my Dagger.

Arm.
A Hand so fair, shou'd never menace Danger,
And Peace and Joy should be the Gifts of Beauty:
Were I not yet of Use to Emmelin,
[Wrests it from her.
I'd not oppose, but meet the destin'd Blow.

Emm.
Say, fawning Traytor, hast thou not undone me?

Arm.
Why are you thus against your Slave enrag'd?
How can your Creature merit Death from you?

Emm.
Accomplish'd Villain! plead'st thou Ignorance,
And Lucius (whom my Soul is fond of) sentenc'd?
By thy curs'd Accusation he's condemn'd.
Thou told'st the Kings and Priests, he was a Christian;
For That he dies, nor can my Brother save him.

Arm.
Oh! hear me: I have serv'd you to the utmost:
No other Way cou'd gain him a Reprieve
From Vortimer, his jealous Father.

Emm.
Speak on—

Arm.
When first the King, your Brother, and my self
(With all his Guards, and Train of noble Huntsmen)
O'ertook the flying Tyrant, with the Captives,
He halted, to consider of their Death.

Emm.
New Horror! murder his only Son!

Arm.
I thought what, by his Loss, your Heart wou'd suffer,
And therefore sent for Audience from the Tyrant,
In which, I soon his Confidence regain'd:
For, whilst the Action pass'd, I boldly swore,
Within the shady Forest I was sleeping,
'Till waken'd by Honorius numerous Train,
I was by them constrain'd to join his Party.

Emm.
Did he credit this?

Arm.
He seem'd to do it, yet was all Confusion:
Nay, vow'd he wou'd, himself, the Captives slay,
Rather than from his Power they shou'd be wrested.

Emm.
Cruel Tyrant! most unnatural Father!

Arm.
To gain a Pause of Time, some Hours to serve you,
'Twas my advice, that he should yield them up
As Christian Converts, to the Flamen's Hands;
From whence, he afterwards, might save the Queen,
Shou'd he design to let his Rival perish.

Emm.
Our Laws are such, if Christians are convicted,
They must abjure, or die!
The Queen, by all our People is belov'd:
For, tho' they long have guess'd she was a Convert,
'Till now, alas! she never was accus'd:
Thy Breath has kill'd her: Thou hast slain thy Queen.
The Gods will hunt thee round the World for this,
Rebel and Traytor as thou art.

Arm.
To you I am no Traytor.

Emm.
How did'st thou know that Lucius was a Christian?

Arm.
I thought the Queen might have converted him;
And he, with Pride, upon the first Demand,
Above his Father's Hopes, acknowledg'd it.

Emm.
This, then, is the Result: But if he die,
(Mark me, my cunning Lord of Albany,
For by Diana's Chastity I swear)
I will have Veng'ance for the Prince's Death.

Arm.
They have refus'd the Druids offer'd Mercy:
The jealous Briton urges for a Sentence:
His Guards have got possession of this Temple;
Nor dares the King, for fear of popular Rage,
Wrest Christian-Convicts from the Flamen's Hands.
What can we then project to save the Prince?

Emm.
The Prince of Cambria, and the King my Brother,
With pressing, yet unprosperous Tears and Pray'rs,
Have sought the Tyrant to release the Captives;
But, by the superstitious People join'd,
He Lords it here, as if he were in Britain.
In this Extremity some Hopes remain,
That we may yet surprize the British Guard,
Which, if by thee, and by the Prince perform'd,
May, from the publick Hate, preserve my Brother:
A chosen Party of the Gallick Troops,
Have Orders to obey you.
Haste then, with these, and save the Royal Pris'ners;
Relieve my Love, tho' he be ne'er for me.
Fly—tear him from his Rival—set him free,
Or my Revenge shall center all in thee.

[The Curtain drawn up, discovers an Altar to Jupiter; Flamens attending: Lucius and the Queen under the British Guard.
Luc.
Yet, ere my Father shall pronounce our Doom,
Let me, this Once, enfold thee in my Arms;
Take from my Wife, this first and last Embrace.
Oh! sweet to Sense—O yet untasted Beauty:
To die is nothing—but resigning thee,
I merit more than ever Man cou'd merit.

Queen.
So fast these troubled watry Bubbles rise,
I cannot see thee through 'em. Oh! farewell.

Luc.
Farewell, my Queen: May the sharp Pangs of Death
Fall gently on thee, as when Children slumber.

Queen.
May Angels bear thee on their golden Wings,
Without the intermediate Pains between.

Luc.
My Father comes, and now we part for ever.

Enter K. Vortimer, Priests and Train.
K. Vor.
Christians! once more, do ye Abjure or Die?

Luc.
Die.

Queen.
Both die.

Luc.
But first, great Sir, I beg, in Death, forgiveness,
[Kneels.
In what (as erring Man) I have offended;
Tho' never, willingly, did I displease
My awful King and Father:
As to my Love, it was involuntary;
Hearts do not give themselves; for that I die.

Queen.
As of my dearest Lord, you are the Parent,
Pardon those Words I may in Rage have spoke;
[Kneels.
But sure the Provocation was extream,
I do forgive, and wou'd be so forgiven.

Luc.
I wish you Length of Days, and to forget me:
Forget you e'er had an unhappy Son;
But may you still, with never-ending Grief,
Remember Rosalinda.

Queen.
Long may you live, repenting Lucius Death:
To you I recommend my helpless People,
If e'er their Queen you lov'd (as much you flatter'd)
Govern with Clemency.

K. Vor.
They shake my Heart:
Yet, ne'er from Love, cou'd Pity gain the Ground.
Yield up thy Bride to us, and thou shalt live;
[Aside to Luc.
Thy cursed Marriage may be disannul'd,
And thou proclaim'd our Kingdom's Heir.

Luc.
Forsake my Wife! it is not in my Pow'r:
Mercy is Cruelty, when so disguis'd.

K. Vor.
Then thou shalt die, rebellious hard'ned Boy.
You know your Charms, exert 'em now, be mine,
And Lucius, my curs'd Rival, too shall live.

[Aside to the Queen.
Queen.
To save the Prince's Life, I wou'd do all
But break the sacred Vow, I plighted to him.

K. Vor.
Since thus I'm brav'd by their fantastick Passion,
Their Death shall be an instant Cure for mine.
Take hence, to diff'rent Prisons, both these Christians,
The Woman strait shall die by Fire: But first,
The common Deathsman riots in her Charms;
Whilst Lucius, on a lofty Scaffold bleeds.
Their Sentence is irrevocable.

Luc.
A Queen condemn'd to suffer as a Slave,
Oh awful Judge! I cannot call you Father.
Let savage Beasts hunt down my weary'd Life;
Tear off my Flesh, or bury me alive;
Rack only me, and I will bless the King;
But save, unhurt, the Honour of my Wife.

Queen.
Sacred to Vertue and immortal Glory,
Sacred to chaste and holy Purity,
Who is it dares to sentence our high Honour?
Our spotless Fame aspires to reach the Skies.
Our Life we willingly resign; there glut your Rage.

K. Vor.
Hence. Bear 'em to their Prisons.

Queen.
Oh! Lucius, Lucius, they wou'd drag me from thee.

Luc.
Slaves, Ravishers, forbear to touch my Wife.

Queen.
He is my Lord; we cannot part, and live.

Luc.
Oh! Father, Monarch, Royal Vortimer,
By my dear Mother's Honour, save the Queen's.

K. Vor.
Down, down with him to the Temple-dungeon.

[The Stage opens, and Lucius is carry'd down by the Priests and Soldiers.
Queen.
Upwards to Heav'n, where he shall rise a Saint.
Oh! mighty Pow'rs, my Breast (by you inspir'd)
Foretels some Miracle, vouchsaf'd to me,
Shall guard my Chastity from brutal Rage.
All worldly Pomp I willingly forego;
My Husband too, the dearest Gift of Life.
Thro' Fire I'll gladly pass, my Faith to prove,
If Fire can save me from an impious Love.

[Ex. guarded.
K. Vor.
Now laugh, proud Queen, and scorn our proffer'd Throne.
Enter Arminius.
Lord Albany, what you advis'd, is done.

Arm.
It is Revenge befitting a great Soul:
Oh! 'twill be great; be Extacy indeed,
If you can personate the happy Slave
Sentenc'd to ravish this nice Piece of Beauty,
And like brave Tarquin, clasp your far-fam'd Lucrece.

K. Vor.
Revenge and Love shall be together sated:
Under the vile Appearance of that Wretch,
We will possess the Fair, yet shroud our Glory.

Arm.
How bears Honorius such a foul Decree?

K. Vor.
[Ex. King Vor.

Arm.
Fortune, once more, let me invoke thy Aid.
Oh! thou great Goddess, be propitious now,
And stand revers'd for ever!

[Exit.
[The Scene shifts to the Dungeon, Lucius discovered, Arminius enters to him.
Arm.
Long live the Prince of Britain.

Luc.
Who's there?

Arm.
A Friend to Lucius.

Luc.
Thou! guilty, treacherous Lord of Albany!
Can'st thou, who wrong'd the Queen, and wrong'd our Fame,
Presume to be a Friend? Oh! for a Sword.

Arm.
There, have your Wish: But turn it not on me,
'Till Fate has leisure for so vile a Life.

Luc.
Speak on: What was thy Errand hither?

Arm.
Hope to preserve the Queen from Violation.
Measure my Zeal by her Distress: Alas!
Both are too great for Words.

Luc.
Albany's Zeal! an ignominious Traytor
Who has traduc'd us both; stain'd the Queen's Glory,
And fix'd on me the Murther of Otharius.

Arm.
Wild to possess what most my Soul ador'd,
What wou'd not a poor lost, despairing Lover?
But oh! no more she lives for you, nor me:
No more her Honour lives, without our Succour.
By an unheard of, monstrous, vile Decree,
A sordid Slave possesses all her Charms,
Unless, this Instant, we the Wretch can slay.
I'll lead you where you may the Deed perform:
Time calls on me to head Honorius Troops,
Dispos'd, by him, and Emmelin, to aid you:
Perhaps, some lucky Moment may look forth
To save her sacred Life, as well as Honour.
What Vengeance Then, a noble Foe can ask,
All the Revenge that Arm can take, be thine.

Luc.
Hope, once again, re-kindles in my Soul:
This Deed perform'd, and the bright Queen preserv'd,
I claim the Justice of thy Sword: 'Till when,
In the ensuing Tumult, spare my Father.

[Exeunt.
The Scene shifts, they re-enter.
Arm.
That Door conducts you to the Queen;
The British Guards are drawn around the Temple;
The Priests themselves, as loth to hear her Shrieks,
Retire to Corners, to bewail th'Event.
There's the Way; be sure you kill the Ravisher.

Luc.
Farewell: Inevitable Death pursues him.

[Luc. goes in.
Arm.
This is, indeed, a Master-piece of Cunning:
This is a most accomplish'd Strain of Thought.
The Father kill the Son, the Son the Father:
Either fall, or both; but one must perish:
I head the Gauls, and murther the Survivor,
And then the Crown and Queen may yet be mine.
[Ex. Arm.

[The Scene changes.
Enter Vortimer disguis'd in a sordid Habit: As he is going out at the opposite Door, Lucius pursues him, pulls him back, and stabs him.
Luc.
Stay, Ruffian, take thy Death from Lucius Hand.
Where is my Rosalinda? where's my Love?
My dearest Queen? the Ravisher's no more:
[the Queen enters.
The sordid, ignominious Slave is dead.

K. Vor.
Yet, but a moment's Space, and I am gone;
The God's have prov'd themselves, and I am slain.

Luc.
That Voice has something sacred in the Sound.

K. Vor.
It is thy Father: Thou hast slain me, Lucius.
Kill'd him, who gave thee Life: Curse on the Deed.

[Dies.
Luc.
Oh! 'tis he, 'tis he; the Royal Vortimer:
Ev'n now, his angry Soul has forc'd its Passage:
Swiftly his Breath fleets upwards from my Sight.
Now he arraigns me at the Bar of Justice,
Now he accuses his ill-fated Son;
Now he pulls down the righteous Veng'ance on me,
Invokes the Thunder, and all-piercing Lightning.
How full it glares on my defective Sight:
O'erwhelm'd by dreadful Bolts, the Wrath of Heav'n,
Down, down I sink to meet the Fate of Parricides:
Avenge my Father's Blood, Despair and Death:
A King's, a Parent's Blood! Despair and Die!

[Falls in a Trance.
Queen.
Oh! great unhappy Hero, born for Woe:
Oh! fatal Moment, that inclin'd thy Heart,
To think the wretched Rosalinda fair.
Dear, lovely Eyes, admit no more of Day:
Eternal be this Lethargy of Grief:
Do not return to conscious, racking Thought.
He comes again to Miseries untold:
To Life, to Sense, to Reason, to Distraction!

Luc.
Say, thou bright fair One, who first taught me Truth,
May not this Hand avenge a Parent's Blood?

Queen.
The Gates of Mercy are for ever shut
Against Self-murtherers.

Luc.
What, cut a Father's Thread,
And calmly wait the breaking of my own?
Not Years of strictest Pennance can attone;
Can expiate, for shedding sacred Blood.
Oh King! thy Usurpation and bad Deeds,
The Murder of thy Prince, are here reveng'd:
For ever Scarlet, those deep-tinctur'd Crimes
(By an irrevocable, righteous Doom)
Have made thy Son thy Executioner.
On me thy Sins descend, for thee I am curs'd.

Queen.
Arise, my Lord, new Mischiefs are at hand.

Luc.
'Tis false Arminius fighting with the Guards.
An Alarm and fighting within: Arminius enters at the Head of a Party, goes to kill Lucius, is kill'd by him: Then enter the Prince of Cambria, leading Emmelin, Irene, &c.
Arminius says, I slew the great Otharius,
Arminius stain'd the Honour of the Queen,
Arminius urg'd me on to kill my Father,
Arminius comes for Payment of his Crimes:
Traytor! have at thy Heart!

Arm.
Oh! I am slain.
I've justly met my Death from Lucius Hand.

Queen.
Yet, as thou hop'st for Pardon of thy Crimes,
If thou hast Breath, tell me who kill'd Otharius?

Arm.
I slew your Lord, and fix'd it upon Lucius;
Wild Love and false Ambition were my Guides:
The Gods forgive us all.

[Dies.
Prince of Camb.
Dear noble Youth,
The Pow'rs have brought us to preserve thy Life,
From the hard Sentence of a cruel Father.

Luc.
Oh Uncle! shroud me from an impious Deed:
Oh! hide me in your Bosom from the Light.
Behold that sacred Body! There's my Father:
Behold, in Lucius, the curs'd Parricide.

Pr. of Camb.
Vortimer slain, and by my Nephew's Hand!
Thou great, illustrious, happy, happy Youth,
The Fates have now been busy for thy Glory.
Hear all, and tremble at this righteous Justice.
Thou hast slain thy Father's Murtherer, Lucius;
Aveng'd his Death, and punish'd the Usurper.

Luc.
Oh Uncle! was not Vortimer my Father?

Pr. of Camb.
This Monster cou'd not have a Son, like Lucius.
Thou ow'st thy Birth to the late Royal King,
Whom this vile Traytor, at a Banquet slew:
The Queen was then in Child-bed; You her Off-spring.
To save you from a cruel Tyrant's Sword,
We spread the Rumour of your sudden Death,
And with feign'd Tears, wept o'er an empty Tomb:
The War in Gallia drew him from the Throne,
In foreign Fields to bury loyal Chiefs,
Who ill cou'd bear the Murther of their King.

Luc.
But how, great Sir, was I suppos'd his Son?

Pr. of Camb.
He forc'd a Marriage with the Queen my Sister.
By my Advice, you seem'd to spring from thence:
The Queen's retir'dness bar'd intruding Eyes;
'Till broke with Sorrow, shortly she expir'd.
Six Years the Tyrant pass'd in foreign War:
At his return, I gave you to his Arms,
Who, as a forward Miracle, receiv'd you.
Thus the just Powers have led you by the Hand,
To punish, in curst Vortimer, the Man,
Who caus'd the Death of both your Royal Parents.

Luc.
Oh holy Angels! tune it in your Choir;
Eccho it Heav'n, thro' all yon azure Sky;
The happy Lucius has not slain his Father.
To you, bright beauteous Princess's, I sue:
To you, my noble Uncle, and our Friends,
Kneel all, and kiss the Dust in Adoration,
Kneel all, and praise the Eternal Pow'r with me:
The happy Lucius has reveng'd his Father.

Queen.
My Life, my Honour, and my People rescu'd,
Cou'd only be the Work of Heav'n, and Lucius.

Luc.
Once more thou art my Wife.

Queen.
Once more and ever be my Love.

Emm.
Here, Emmelin, thy Hopes of Lucius die;
Be then no more misled by fatal Love,
But to Diana's Train, devote thy self
[Aside.
For ever.

Luc.
What Thanks, bright Princess, shall I pay to you,
And your great Brother, who has help'd to save me?
[to Emm.
That I have pass'd the threat'ned Storms of Fate,
Aveng'd my Parents, and preserv'd my Wife,
Are Blessings first deriv'd to me from Beauty.
Benighted, grov'ling on my Mother Earth,
'Till Beauty call'd, I unenlightned lay:
By Beauty lead, I sought eternal Day.
I view those shining Realms of Light above,
And gain immortal Happiness by Love.

[Exeunt omnes.