University of Virginia Library

Act the Fourth.

Scene First.

Enter Aldernald and Matilda.
Mat.
That my Injoyment might be the greater,
I deferr'd the perusal of your Letter
'Till the Court-disturbances were past.
Peaceful minutes suit best with Love affairs.

Ald.
I wish, Madam, you had read it in my absence,
And prevented my blushes.
[Matilda opens the Letter, and reads.
What is she, Aldernald?

Ald.
A Princess.

Mat.
A Princess!

Ald.
Yes.

Mat.
A Princess too!
Then I in vain my hopes of Love pursue.
What forein Princess can this be?

Ald.
Oh ill construction, unlucky evasion!
[Matilda reads agen.
It is for her I languish, that now reads this Paper.
Oh were that meant to me! how fate conspires
Aside
To indulge my hopes, and flatter my desires!
The Invention is pretty, this fully expresses
Your Love, and is an evidence too of your
Respect—Your approach is modest, and such
As I could not blame,

Ald.
How void of apprehension!
[Aside,
She cannot, will not understand.

Mat.
Now, Aldernald, I'le make you my Confident.
It was my fate once to admit of a flame,
Yet not unworthy my Breast, if Merit
May excuse the want of Royal descent.
For the man I lov'd, though not born to a Crown,
Had done Actions deserving one.—

Ald.
He had more than a Kingdom in your Love.

Mat.
But he never knew it: I conceal'd my Flame.

Ald.
Much more than mine your silence was too blame.
Monarchs your Love upon their knees would meet,
And throw themsrlves and Scepters at your feet.
Then what would not the proudest Subject do?

Mat.
But Modesty forbids our Sex to woo.

Ald.
Love might have found ways without blame t'impart
To him you lov'd the conquest of your heart.
Against your silence lies a just complaint.

Mat.
My Birth too on my Love impos'd restraint.

Ald.
What Charms had he could such a Princess move?

Mat.
Great Actions first dispos'd my heart to love,
And then his Picture.—

Ald.
That's but an empty Shade.

Mat.
Yet on my heart a strong Impression made.
But when I saw him, he or felt no flame,
Or else like you was ignorant and tame.

Ald.
What do I hear? her heart has been possest,
[Aside.
And Love still holds Dominion in her breast;
She do's relate it with so much concern,
That I no hopes but of my Ruin learn.
A burning blush still covers all her face.

Mat.
This stupid man will force me to disgrace.
I am not well on th'sudden.—

Ald.
Not well?

Mat.
Some other time I'le tell you more,—
Since words will not, let that the myst'ry clear.

[Exit.
[As she goes off, she pulls out a Handkerchief, which draws a Picture out of her Pocket.
Ald.
Ha, what is this?—
Blessed sight! my Picture here
It is, at least it much resembles me.
'Tis mine, if I can judg of what I see.
How dull have I been, not to apprehend
I am the man she lov'd?
And therefore did my Silence discommend.
My thoughts are now crowded with things she spoke,
How each the others meaning has mistook!
How both by Jealousie have been misled!
Each shun'd th'Approaches which the other made.
But though she love, and do's her Love disclose,
A Princess cannot of her self dispose.
And when the King—

Enter Durzo.
Durz.
Admiral! Yes 'tis he; How he stands,
As if he was but th'appearance of a man!
I have seen him in the heat of an Engagement,
In the posture of that Heroe Angel,
That pitcht the Devil headlong out of Heaven.
So ho, who's within?

[Durzo knocks with his hand at Aldernald's breast.
Ald.
Are you here, Captain?

Durz.
That's a Lover's question right. E'ne let your Eyes
Answer you: but I thought you had not been at home,
Your Body lookt as if't had been the forsaken
Tenement of some great Soul, that stood empty,
And wanted an Inhabitant. Whirlwinds take
This Love, it has made a Fool of me too. When
I am spoken to, I am thinking of Ladies; my
Wits and Sences are gone a rambling, like Sailors
Gotten a shore in their Long Boat, and my Body
Left without motion like their Ship at Anchor.

Ald.
You had fair warning not to fall in love.

Durz.
Here's the Devil on't, I know not how it
Comes about—Well believe me, Admiral,
Tho Women from the Wast upwards look like
Angels, there's Witchcraft under their Petticoats.
And I'le tell you, if a Woman does but fetch
This long Heave, with the lifting up of her head,
And the bending in of her back, two little
Round plump pouting Devils peep from
Underneath her Gorget, which put such a glowing
Heat into my veins, that my blood in a moment
Grows too hot for its channels, and I could
O'rerun a score of 'em.

Ald.
You are heated at the very thoughts of Women.

Durz.
Now I am in one of my Fits. Oh Admiral
That I had but half a dozen Ladies now in my Cabin,
How I'de rummidg 'em together!
I'de make 'em smoak agen—

Ald.
Since you are so hot, take a Walk with me
In the open Air to cool you.

Durz.
That won't do't; if we were going to ingage,
Perhaps the loss of a Leg, or an Arm, or forty
Ounces of blood, might something abate my Feaver.

Ald.
Your Distemper has gotten such hold,
That you must lose a Leg, or an Arm,
For every handsom Lady you see,
Or you'l not be thorougly cur'd.

Durz.
Say you so, then I'le indure't still,
And try what time and chance will do.

[Exeunt.
Enter King, and Alfreda.
King.
Have you, Alfreda, consider'd his crimes,
And whom he has offended?

Alfr.
I have consider'd that your clemency
In this act, will most brave and God-like shew,
Because you pardon wrongs done to your self.

King.
That for a Lover is too Heroical,
With less regret I could pardon him
Had robb'd me of a Crown, than thee.
The King would pardon him, but the Lover cannot.

Alfr.
Is the Lover than the King less generous?
Forgive him, Sir, if but to shew
You can be to your self a King.

King.
That he durst offend, declar'd the greatness
Of his Love; to forgive him will shew mine less.

Alfr.
No, his offences were not proofs of Love,
But Self-interest; but your forgiveness
Will be an argument of a generous passion.
He acted for himself, but you for her you lov'd.

King.
How should an ill-living Divine, who preaches
'Gainst Licentiousness, convert his Hearers,
When he is himself the greatest Libertine?
So do thy Words and Actions disagree,
Whilst you endeavour to make me tame,
You, Alfreda, act the Tyrant.

Alfr.
Not I, but Virtue is the Tyrant.
Virtue directs to keep your Passions
In severest awe,—to treat 'em like Slaves
If they rebel, to banish 'em.

King.
When Love first took possession of my Breast,
He fortified so fast, and is so strongly seated,
He will not now be forc'd to quit his Hold.

Alfr.
Though not your Love, you may o'recome your Rage.

King.
My Anger from my injur'd Love does rise,
'Till that abates, I cannot this asswage.

Alfr.
But if from Love you cut off all supplies,
His strength will weaker grow, his power decay.

King.
From your bright beauty it receives its force.

Alfr.
Then from my beauty turn your eyes away.

King.
But that will not my thoughts from you divorce.
My fancie still will represent you fair,
And I in all your Charms shall see you there.

Alfr.
Though still your fancie does my Form pursue,
It represents me in a Husband's arms,
Of me it gives you but a hopeless view:
Love stript of hope the heart but gently warms.

King.
How you a Lover's hopes destroy, beware,
We are all Rage and Madmen in despair:
If you would anger from my Soul remove,
Say something that is kind, and speak of Love.
Treat me as you would do a froward Child,
Sooth me 'till I'me by flattery beguil'd.

Alfr.
Whilst Ethelwold in Prison you detain,
To 'scape the censures of th'misjudging Crowd,
I even that common freedom must refrain,
Which is to all the Court besides allow'd.
I must reserv'd and sullen now appear,
Or every gazing eye, and hearkning ear,
Will take false measures of my mirth and me.
My Lord,—
Already wants no ground for Jealousie.

King.
Must Liberty, must it to one be given?
Whose crimes offend beauty, a King, and Heaven.

Alfr.
Whilst he by your commands remains confin'd,
Your imprison too the freedom of my mind,

King.
Command my death, but not his liberty.

Alfr.
Restoring him you set Alfreda free.

King.
But freed, what will the fair Alfreda do,
When she has power to grant, and I must sue.
Quickly impose on me some lesser task,
For this you will want power to requite.

Alfr.
A meaner favour I disdain to ask.

King.
Meet me then, Alfreda, meet me to night.
In th'Garden when 'tis dark.

Alfr.
Meet him? what for?
I'le meet you, Sir.

King.
To Ethelwold his Freedom I restore.
You'l meet?

Alfr.
I will.—You'l not recall this Grant?

King.
My Promise firm as Fates Decree shall stand.
A King's word I gage.

Alfr.
If from me you want a Pledge,
Sir, in assurance take my hand—

Enter Aldernald.
King.
Come, Aldernald, be thou a Witness,
With what severity I treat my self;
That robb'd of all my happiness, resolve to lose
The pleasure of Revenge, and neither to complain;
Nor punish the Offender.

Ald.
The noblest conquest is o're our selves.

King.
You left me a King, an angry Jove,
Then I held Thunder in my hand,
Of which Alfreda has disarm'd me; now
Onely to my self I am a Tyrant.
Go,—let Ethelwold have his Enlargement,
Tell him my after-rage he need not fear,
My Passions I enslave, and him let loose
To play the luxurious Wanton, in the yet
Untasted pleasures of thy fair Sisters love.

Ald.
'Tis a less glory to conquer Kingdoms,
Than thus to subdue our Passions.

King.
Now fair cruel one, let him enjoy thy Love,
Whilst I in secret mourn my unkind Fate.
If any Sigh by chance shall reach thy Ear,
Let it not breed disquiets in you,
For after this your pity will be vain,
Nor will I of your cruelty complain.
[Exit King.

Alfr.
So, this hard Task is o're.

Ald.
I know not which has most generous been,
You Alfreda to intreat, or the King
To grant a Pardon, for both alike were injur'd.

Alfr.
Ethelwold perhaps will make but an ill Return,
Advise him to correct his jealous temper,
For Jealousie is the restless worm of the Brain
As Guilt is of the Conscience,
Full of causeless fears and apprehensions.

Ald.
This Act of Virtue will compose his thoughts,
And wipe away his fears,—but
Remit the management of this to me,
I'le undertake to cure his Jealousie.

[Exit.
Alfr.
I am run into a Labyrinth of dangers,
And know not which way to escape:
The Queen is suspicious, the King amorous,
My Husband jealous.—To gain him Liberty,
I have ingag'd to meet the King to night:
If I do not, I fear his anger will relapse;
If I do, I expose my Honour.—
Unfortunate state! I have no Guide,
No Counseller if I erre.—Malicious Fortune
Has so contriv'd it,—the fault must be all
My own,—let Heaven, that knows my Innocence,
Take care of it.
Enter the Queen and Ladies.
The Queen brings anger in her brow:
I'le stand the shock.—

Queen.
Ladies, why do you follow me?
Why do you press on my Retirement?

1. Lady.
Madam, you are melancholly,
We hope our company may divert it.

Queen.
Why this care of me? why to me so kind?

2 Lad.
It is our duty, Madam.

Queen.
Your duty, to whom?

2 Lady.
To you, Madam.

Queen.
Why, who am I?

1 Lad.
You are the Queen, Madam.

Queen.
The Queen? how you all mistake?
There is the Queen, you misplace your Service;
Go attend on her, that is the Queen.
You seem not to believe me—
Doth not the whole Court bow to her?
Do they not in Crowds follow her?
What State, what Train have I? who follows me
Except your selves? Foolish Virgins,
There make your Court!

Alfr.
She is much troubled in mind, and her discontent
Reflects on me with great severity.

Queen.
Go, be Attendants there; blest with her influence
You'l pass through merry Spheres, she'l conduct you
To Courts of State, and Palaces of delight,
Where Kings shall make Love, and Princes court you;
Where all the year is spent in Balls, Masques, Treats,
And your whole lives in pleasures melt away.

Alfr.
My Soul, stand firm to generous Resolutions.
It is not noble to insult o're Griefs.

Queen.
I shall lead you but to silent Grotto's,
To lonely Walks, and melancholly Groves,
The Recesses of the Forsaken and Afflicted,
Places fit onely to sigh and mourn in,
Where rapt in serious contemplation,
I shall a while forget my sorrows,
And though I weep, and sigh, not know I do.

Alfr.
The King's late Resolutions impress'd
These mournful characters so deeply on her heart.

1 Lad.
Let us still follow her.

[Ex. Queen and Ladies.
Alfr.
I have o'recome all that was Woman in me.
Inspir'd by my injuries, I could severely
Have retorted,—But that had been too
Womanish.—The wrongs thou didst were
In obedience to a Father,—thy Ignorance
In part excuses the Guilt.
But here he comes—
Enter Ruthin.
Whose confederacy was malice and design,
For he knew the secrets of the King's soul.
Sir, I have heard the Queen lament,
And seen her Griefs.
How soon they're grown to an excess!

Ruth.
Tides blown by strong winds role in apace,
And quickly swell above their banks.
Her sorrow is already next distraction,
And just breaking o're the bounds of Reason.

Alfr.
The expressions of her Discontent were such
As call'd my Honour into question,
And arraign'd my Virtue.

Ruth.
There needs no greater evidence to shew
The sudden discomposure of her mind,
Than her Doubts of Virtue, that is guarded
By duty and obedience to a Father:
By the Glories of a Family,
None more Noble, none more Ancient;
By Love and Friendship to a Brother,
By his acquir'd Fame and high Renown,
By Faith and Loyalty to a Husband,
And Conjugal affection.—

Alfr.
True, my Lord.

Ruth.
Though urg'd by Love and Inclination,
No Lady but would mak't her choice
Rather to sacrifice her life to Virtue,
And die the Martyr of her Passions,
Than part with Honour, when the loss of it
Would taint her whole blood, and entail disgrace
On two such Great and Noble Families.

Alfr.
Right my Lord—

Ruth.
For such a deed the present Age in Songs
Would celebrate her Shame, and History
To after-ages bear her memory
With long Traditions of her Infamy,
And on her name fix an eternal Blot.

Alfr.
Through these aggravations I perceive
Your fears, my Lord; but know, that I have yet
Than these a stronger Guard, my Virtue.
Perchance some Lady of a common temper
Gladly would embrace the fair occasion,
Grow proud of her interest, and meanly
Insult o're you, a Husband, and a Queen,
And count such Revenge glorious.
But my Thoughts are more transcendent,
Ethelwold already owes his life to me.
My Lord, come with me to the Queen,
I have something to impart to her and you
Will ease your minds of half your fears,
And take away your mean Suspitions.
If ought I can contribute to her peace
I'le do it, the Revenge I prosecute
Shall be to make you all asham'd,
And blush at your so vulgar apprehensions.

[Exit.
Ruth.
Virtue may protect her, but her absence
Is th'onely remedy against the King's love:
Be her Absence then decreed, be it,
The constant subject of my meditation.

[Exit.
Enter Oswald and Durzo.
Osw.
But, Captain, you should first have parlied,
And demanded satisfaction fairly.
Did you think to take her heart by storm,
As men do Towns?

Durz.
It was more like a Soldier.

Osw.
But not like a Lover. Love is a gentle Passion—
Here she comes, you had best steer a new course.

Enter Hillaria.
Hill.
What, in the dumps, Captain?

Osw.
He's in a contemplation of Love.

Hill.
Let not such idle thoughts trouble your head,
I am almost weary on't my self.

Durz.
Say sou so?

Hill.
Yes, you and I will be friends for all that:
Such a trifle as Love shall break no squares.

Durz.
There's the Devil of Love now.
Had she been as forward as I am,
I had been indiff'rent as she is;
That is one Experiment I have made in this Voyage.

Hill.
When Lovers pause, it is a sign Love cools;
And since you know not what to think on't,
E'ne let us fairly part stakes—I will have
My heart agen, and you shall have yours;
Thus we'l make a handsom Retreat,
And so Captain tack about to the next.

Osw.
A fair proposal.

Durz.
But by your leave, in the faith of a Soldier,
'Tis more honourable to stand in to rights,
Than to make a Tacque, and say and sing
The Devil's head off.—
I will judge of Love by the Rules of Honour,
Therefore sink or swim I'le bear up close with you.

Hill.
I like a man of resolution well;
Then give me thy hand, my trusty Tarpolin,
You shall find me no Flincher neither.

[Exeunt.
Enter Ethelwold, and Aldernald.
Eth.
Which ought I most to admire,
The King's high act of Clemency,
Or Alfreda's unexampled Generosity?
Revenge had been a milder punishment:
For conscious of the Injuries I have done,
I cannot without blushes meet his Pardon,
Or her Love, and must wear a Shame about me,
As lasting as the memory of these Favours.

Ald.
You acknowledge the wrongs done to the King?

Eth.
With so great a sence of sorrow,
That were not thy Sister Heaven of Blessings,
My Penitence would rob me of future joy.

Ald.
Nor do you longer doubt my Sister's virtue?

Eth.
Her Virtue rather makes me doubt,
That I have sinn'd beyond repentance,
Offending so much Innocence.
Oh that 'twere permitted we might exchange,
Or could recall our Matrimonial Vows;
Then would I, to appear grateful,
Resign my interest in Alfreda
To the King, and to both be just.

Ald.
To them you cannot, but to me you may.

Eth.
The injuries I have done your Family,
Are too great to be repair'd.

Ald.
They are then too great to be forgiven
But to the brave, no wrongs can be above
The satisfaction of the Sword,—That is the
Justice, That the Requital I demand.

Eth.
The King and Alfreda are generous Examples;
Will Aldernald less noble be?
'Twas in them a more Glorious Act
To pardon than to punish; but in me
Forgiveness is dishonourable. I am free
To call thee to a strict account: thy Lyes
rais'd thoughts in my breast, which like a Nest
Of Snakes, shot their poysonous Stings
At my Prince's Virtue: Thy Falsities
Fool'd me to Actions, which I blush to own.
Come on, the Valiant ne're capitulate.

Eth.
If I appear to want a courage,
Or my arm but feebly guide my Sword,
Think 'tis the love I bear thy Sister
Directs it slowly to the Brother's heart,
Within me is a Power that takes your part.

[They fight.
Enter King Alfreda, and Guards.
King.
Hold, part 'em.

Ald.
We are prevented.

Alfr.
Oh my Lord, you bleed!

Eth.
To my Breast he has added one wound more,
The Sister's beauty, and the Brother's valour,
Alike successful prove.
Against your Eyes is no resistance,
Against his Sword no defence.

King.
What, Aldernald, provok'd you to this deed?

Ald.
Sir, has he not offended?

King.
I sent you to restore his Liberty,
I had pardon'd him.

Ald.
Yes, Sir, Offences done to your self,
Not those he did our Family:
He ignobly sought my Sister's love,
With lies and gross inventions abus'd
My Fathers ears and mine, and drew me in
To be his property.
These affronts requir'd my Sword.

King.
Thy scrupulous Honour has too far engag'd thy valour.

Ald.
In honour I could not less than fight him.

Alfr.
Brother, your Presumption was too great,
When you thought your self concern'd to punish,
Where the King had mercy shewn.

Ald.
Forgiveness is in Kings a mercy, 'cause
They are above us, and have power to punish;
But when th'Offended and Offenders equal are,
Forgiveness looks like want of Courage.
And if you well consider Circumstances,
You will find, Alfreda, he had done wrongs,
Which the Kings Pardon could not wipe away,
And those concern'd the honor of our Family:
For those no one but I was fit to call him
To account.

Alfr.
You mistake, those wrongs were mine,
Till I had declar'd them Injuries,
They were not so to you—to me belong'd
The Prerogative to Revenge, or Pardon:
Nor could your Love, or Hatred claim in him
An Interest, but subordinate to mine.

Eth.
Cease, cease this Generous Strife.
You, Alfreda, have too obliging been,
Me you forgave, and will you not your brother?
His Crime, if it be one to vindicate
The honor of his Family, was at least necessary.

Alfr.
He has been too forward, and assum'd too much;
A Sister's Husband cannot be a Brother's Enemy,
'Till she has first declar'd him so.

Eth.
I onely wish his cause had been less just,
For I have so offended him, thy Self,
My King, and Heaven, that if my Death
Could attone for my Offences,
I'de beg it from this wound;
For though thou art a Heaven of Blessings,
The sence of my Guilt in possessing thee
Is a torment above the joy I have
To see my self enrich'd.

King.
Aldernald, your quarrel must end here,
Let this be the last resentment of your wrong;
That Generosity, which so highly you
Did applaud in me, now imitate.
If in me Forgiveness was a worthy act,
'Tis an Example fit for you to follow.

Ald.
When you command, my obedience
Wants not to be prompted by Example,

Alfr.
My Lord, how do you, how do you feel your wound?

Eth.
I believe it slight,
But with loss of blood grow faint.

King.
Lead him off—
When the Surgeons have search'd his wounds,
Let me, Alfreda, from you be inform'd
[Guards lead Ethelwold off.
What their judgments are of the danger.

Alfr.
Sir I will not fail.

[Exit Aldernald.
King.
To meet to night in the Garden.

Alfr.
Yes.

King.
At the Grotto?

Alfr.
Yes, Sir, at the Grotto.

King.
I have perform'd my promise.

Alfr.
I'le be as punctual.

King.
This accident lets you command your liberty.

Alfr.
Which I'le imploy in thanking you for Ethelwold's.

King.
When 'tis dark I will expect you.

Alfr.
When 'tis dark, you shall not expect
But find me there.
[Exit Alfr.

King.
Fly fast you lazy minutes,
Swift as my Wishes fly,
And with more nimble wings bear hence the Light.
Let Day resign its Empire soon,
And Night set up it's black Standard.
I am impatient, but why am I so?
What do I hope, design, or what resolve?
Oh I dare not examine my thoughts,
They are yet confus'd and indistinct.
My Wishes are unform'd, my Resolutions
Not quite born; and yet I think, hope, wish,
Design, resolve, but what I know not.
Honour and Love for Victory strugling are,
And make my breast their present seat of War.

Exit.