University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

The Scene is, The River of Thames, the Prospect reaches as far as can be seen from the Bridge, in a clear Day: On one side of the Stage, lies Augusta, attended by Cities; on the other, Thamesis, attended by Rivers; Angello hovering in the Air. After a Symphony of Musick, Angello speaks.
Angel.
Wake, wake Augusta! Thamesis awake!
Leave of your mourning for your absent Lord:
From the bright Court of Love, I'm hither sent,
To chear your Drooping Spirits, and inform you,
The Guardian of this once Unhappy Island,
Returns with Safety from his Gallick Foes.

Tham.
Oh thou Bright Vision! Thus we kneel before thee;
Thus pay our Thanks to those Almighty Powers,
That have Preserv'd the Great, the God-like Brutus.

Aug.
O send our Albion, send him quickly to us:
Guard him, good Heaven, Preserve him from his Foes;
For when he falls, Augusta is no more.

Ang.
Once more I charge you, to dismiss your Fears,
For Heav'n has made him its peculiar Care.

Seraphino
Descends.
See here the Guardian Heav'n has appointed
Still to Attend, and to Preserve his Person.

Hermes Descends in his Chariot, drawn by Ravens.
Her.
And Hermes too appears, to chear your Sorrows.

Hermes
Sings.
Thou Glorious Fabrick stand, for ever stand,
Well worthy thou to Entertain
The God of Traffick, and of Gain,
To draw the Concourse of the Land,
And Wealth of all the Main.

Augusta
Sings.
O Hermes, pity take
Of her, who Europe's Pride was seen,
And this fair Isle's Imperial Queen.
Albion's Darling Bride adorn'd,
Till my Absent Lord I mourn'd.
And whilst my Turtle-moans I make,
Oh Hermes, pity take.

Thamesis
Sings.
And I the Noble Flood, who pour
My Plenteous Urn on her Rich Shoar,
No more the Prince of Fields, I Reign,
Nor she the Queen of Albion's Fame.

Aug.
Oh Hermes, pity take.

Tha.
Oh Hermes, pity take.

Cho.
To thee for pity now we call,
O! God-like Hermes; pity all.

Mer.
Cease, fair Augusta, cease thy Sorrow,
And tho' to day thou mourn'st, thou'lt smile to Morrow.
Thy Morning Prayer, and Evening Dreams,
Thy Albion with his smiling Beams,
Returns so Glorious, Bright and Gay,
He Rivals the Great God of Day.

Chorus.
Our Albion with his smiling Beames,

Hermes.
While Gallick Foes which Envy see
Your Monarch's happy Victory.
Augusta, ought not to Despair,
For Albion's Heavens peculiar Care.

(Mercury Ascends.
Tha.
Since our Albion is returning
All our blazing Bonfires Burning,
Joyn each Loyal Heart and Hand,
Each Attending
All Knees Bending
Triton's Sounding
Shores Rebounding,
Send my Jolly Neptunes Sons to Land.

A Dance of Nerieds
Augustus, Thamesis, and their Attendance all Sink.
Ang.
Now, Seraphina, to perform your Charge,
Locrindus Son to this Victorious King,
Is on his march, and will be here this Night.
The false Arsaracus that was left in Charge
Of this blest Island, and fair Amarante
Who is by Contract joyn'd to the Young Prince,
Tries by all Arts he can, to gain her Love:
The Curst Magician Coreb does attend him,
And Calls the Powers of Hell to his Assistance;
Therefore you must be Watchful, Seraphino.

Ser.
Fear not my Angel lo but see he comes,
His working Brain, I know Presages Mischief,
But he shall find that all the Power of Hell
Will prove too Poor and Weak, to Combat Heaven.

(They both Aescnd.
The Scene continues. Enter Arsaracus Solus.
Ars.
Why am I thus perplext? She's in my Power;
But Oh! What Power can stand against her Beauty?
Am I to blame to Court the smiles of her,
Who Captivates the Heart of Royal Brutus
That mighty Conqueror submits to her.
He that is Born the certain Scourge of Gaul:
He that with Conquest still comes Ushered Home,
Our Second Mars yields to this Lovely Venus.
Enter the Amarante Reading.
Behold she comes; Oh! wou'd our Artists draw
A Scene of Heaven; there is the lovely Pattern.

Am.
Surpriz'd by him alone, Oh! my just Fears.

Arsa.
Why do ye flie me then, my beauteous Charge?

Am.
Why do ye Haunt me thus, Deceitful Guardian?

Arsa.
Can you Condemn the wretch who ventures Life
To obtain Food, when Famine has oppress'd him;
When the poor Slave tuggs at the Labouring Oar,
His Body Gash'd with Stripes, and Parch'd by th'Sun;
His Eye-lids shrowding in their drowzie Balls,
His Joynts quite Numb'd, and yet Compell'd to Toyl;
Is he to blame to beg of Heaven for Ease?

Amar.
They that Request of Heaven what is unjust shou'd
Not alone denial meet, but Punishment,
When our Great Master left his drooping Kingdom,
Left the soft Joys of Peace for dangerous War,
When he had Conquer'd his resistless Love
And left me to the Prince his Royal Son;
He then, my Lord, bequeath'd me to the Care;
And sure he thought your Virtue was so firm,
You wou'd not Ruine, what you shou'd Protect.

Arsa.
If Kneeling thus with humble Adoration,
Begging of you my only Heaven, for Mercy;
If Sighs and gushing Tears, and broken Slumbers
With all the Racks of a despairing Lover.
If these speak Ruine, sure they speak to me.

Amar.
What wou'd you have me do?

Arsa.
Give me your Love.

Amar.
I cannot

Arsa.
Why?

Amar.
It is the Princes Right.
The Prince, the Noble Prince, the Prince that rais'd you;
Royal Locrinus, that bestow'd all Favours
That you could Ask, or he had power to give.

Arsa.
What Titles, Power, or Wealth can he bestow,
To equal the bright Jewel he takes from me
Empires and Worlds, wou'd be too mean a prize
To Purchase the vast Treasure of your Love.

Amar.
Empires and Worlds, can never change my Heart;
Oh! No 'tis fixt, 'tis rooted to my Lord's.
Here on my Knees, to Heaven and you I swear,
If you persist on this ungrateful Subject,
The King and Prince shall know how faithfully
You have Discharged the Trust they laid upon you.

Arsa.
Yet stay and hear me.

(Offers to God.
Amar.
No, I never will,
Till you have found some other Theme to talk of.

Arsa.
Farewell then, scornful Beauty; now by Love!
(Exit.
That Love which thou so Ill repay'st; I'll have thee
At last, thy Body shall be mine; thy Mind,
Dispose on as thou wilt, 'tis Proud and Vain.
Enter Coreb.
O Coreb!

Cor.
How now my Lord, still plagu'd with hopeless Love,
Still in pursuit of one, who flies with scorn,
Still asking Heaven, for what it will not grant.
Why do ye not Command your Faithful Coreb
That has the power, as well as will, to serve you:
My Art has yet never been known to fail;
Pluto, Allecto, all have own'd my Charms:
The Infernal Court has waited my Command,
And shall agen, to serve Arsaracus.

Arsa.
O Coreb! cou'd I purchase Amarante
But for a Night, for that one happy Night,
I'd be content to bear Eternal Pain;
All Pains, all Torments, but the Wracks of Love.

Cor.
Be Cool, my Lord, and take Advice from me,
The King has o're the Gauls a Victory gain'd,
Locrinus too, his Son has won much Honour.
Who privately this Night comes to the Court;
The King is likewise Landed, and will be
At London in two Days, and on the third,
The Marriage 'twixt Amarante and the Prince,
Will be with splendour Solemnized.

Arsa.
Their Marriage!
Is this the Comfort, that you made me hope;
O you have struck a Fire into my Veins,
That must be quenched with Blood.

Cor.
I, now y've hit it.
'Tis Blood, and Royal-blood, must work your Cure;
You shall not find me poor in my Assistance,
For I will give you Beauty, and a Crown;
A Crown, my brave Arsaracus, think on that,
Open thy Heart, and let Ambition in,
That glorious Ornament, to Valiant Soul.

Arsa.
A Crown, and her I Love; Oh! thou hast rouz'd me,
But say, my better Self, say thou great Artist;
Thou that hast Hell at thy command; say how,
How shall I grasp the substance of those shadows
That Dance about in glittering Forms before me.

Cor.
Be still and silent; silent as the Grave,
And what so e're you see or hear, be constant;
Now you shall find, whatever 'tis I promise,
The whole Infernal Court shall ratifie.
You great Commanders of the Stygian Lake,
To whose known Power your Votary thus bowes.
Honour his Art, (and grace it with your Presence,)
Whose Soul and Body is at your dispose.

The Scene Changes to a Poetical Hell; there is a Figure of the Prometheus Chain'd to a Rock, the Vulture knawing his Liver; Sisiphus rowling the Stone beyond abundance of Figures in various Torments; then a great Arch of Fire, behind this a Pyramide of Flames in perpetual Agitation; behind this glowing Fire which Terminates the Prospect; then rises the Court of Pluto, with him the Furies and Alecto.
Pluto
Sings.
From Hills of Ice, and Heaps of rowling Snow,
From Lakes of Fire, that neither Ebb nor Flow;
From Sulphurous Flames, and from Pestiferous Mists,
From Terrors Infinite, where howling Guests,
Almost Affect there Torturers with their Cries,
Where Souls for ever Burn, and never Die;
Where Misery is always but begun,
And only Wretched certainties are known,
Come we to know, what Coreb wou'd Demand.

Coreb.
Great Prince, whose Faithful Subject I have been,
I do not now demand, but do implore,
That you wou'd grant your Aid to this young Lord;
Love and Ambition both possess his breast,
Valiant he is, and has a daring Soul
Fit to command the Empire of the World.

Pluto.
What wou'd you have me do?

Cor.
Most mighty Prince,
I have with strictest Care assisted him;
But all my Magick Powers too weak alone;
For by my Art I find some Heavenly Being,
Some Guardian Angels has the Charge of Brutus,
That still prevents his and Augusta's Ruine,
Therefore once more, I do implore your Aid,

PLUTO
Sings.
Of all my whole Infernal Brood,
I'll give you one well Nurst in Blood;
The Eldest Child of black Perdition,
One that is fit to serve Ambition.

Alecto.
See Noble Prince, how ready he stands
With Blood-shed Eyes, and Crimson Hands!

Minos.
He the glorious Work will do,
For Mischiefs his Delight,
The Bloody Business then pursue;
And shrow'd his Glories in Eternal Night.
He was for mighty Mischief made,
Mischief is his Darling Trade.

Fury.
Great Prince, I am at hand,
To Obey thy great Command;
And Fear not me,
For you shall see
His great Renown
I'll soon pull down,
From its tow'ring Eagles Flight,
That soar'd high as the Poles,
To Creak with the Bat
And Hoot, Hoot, Hoot, with the Owles.

Chorus.
Then you Furies advance,
Lead, lead up a Dance,
All shall be well
And we'll frolick in Hell
For our Enemy now we are humbling,
Make his Subjects Rebel
We shall soon fill up Hell,
And rejoyce, while the Wretches are Tumbling.

Advance of Envy.
Cor.
Now brave Arsaracus, is there now a prospect
That your vast wishes are to be obtain'd.

Arsa.
I am a Man, a Man not used to fear.
But at this sight each Artery is numb'd,
My Blood is chill'd, and has not power to flow:
Say, I shou'd now desist, and go no farther;
Then may his Magick be employed on me,
To make me worse then Damn'd; to make me see
Despair in all its Forms, to make me Mad,
And feel Hell here, and a worse Hell hereafter.

Cor.
What i'st, my Lord, you pause on.

Arsa.
Oh, I'll tell thee,
The Image of those miserable Wretches
In all their different, yet Eternal Tortures
Has quite Un man'd me, blown out all that Fire,
Love and Ambition, kindled in my Breast.

Cor.
You would desist then.

Arsa.
Yes, I would my Coreb.

Coreb.
And quit the glorious Game, you'd so long Hunted.

Arsa.
Ha.

Cor.
See the bright Amarante made your Rival's
Her Beauteous Treasures Rifled by another,
Close lock'd within Locrinus's longing Arms,
Feasting on Pleasures, while you feed on Pains;
And when he knows, as he will surely know
Your Treacherous Design to undermine him;
Oh what a grateful sight it must be to you,
To see your Honours all at once, stript off;
And he that might have been a Monarch here,
Thrust out a poor Discarded Wanderer.

Arsa.
No more, O Coreb! Thou hast fixt me now
Firm as a Rock to our great resolution;
Methinks I see my self already Crown'd,
The trembling Fair, brought blushing to the Temple;
The Priest prepared for the wish'd Ceremony;
The Night come on, the Bridal Bed Adorn'd,
While I Transported with her powerful Charmes,
Do to the height of all my bliss make haste.
And for that happy Hour,
Forgive whole Ages of my Torments past.

(Exit.
Coreb.
Go on, deluded Wretch, thou shalt not cool
Nor our great Masters Empire want for Subjects,
While Coreb rules on Earth.
Since Coreb, by Heavens wrath is dasht to Hell;
Since all my hopes of future bliss are gone,
I'll make more Fools into destruction run,
For 'tis some pleasure not to fall alone.