University of Virginia Library

The King discovered in his Night Gown, sitting, Meroin by him. A Song and Musick.
The Scene a Bed-Chamber.
King.
Stop your insipid croaking Throats, and practise
Your little Arts on little Objects: Lull
Some peevish Girl, or froward Boy asleep;
And do not hope to calm a restless King.
I'm stung with a Tarantula too strong
For such mean Ayrs to cure. What has my vast
Ambition form'd to make a Daughter great,
And Father blest? But the resisting Fool
Destroys the Sacred Work. Heavens! I was raising her,
A Pile of Majesty, so high, so lofty,
On whose Imperial Towers she might shake hands
With Gods: But angry Love, that envious Deity,
Confounds the Languages of Power and Glory,
And stops the rising Fabrick.

Mer.
Stop it? Death!
What should oppose your Will? She knows your Pleasure,
And dares she disobey?

King.
True Meroin.
I can command her Eye, her Hand, her Tongue;
But they'r all Hypocrites, all base Dissemblers:
Her hidden Thoughts, her Heart's all Altomar's.
Kings are not Gods: Our Pow'r extends o'r all but Souls.
They like unbridled unsubjected Devils,
Soar in that Air of which themselves are Princes.

Mer.
Hold Royal Sir, let not your Majesty
So much mistake, thus cheated with a Bubble.
What is that noisy thing we call a Soul?
What's all its Faculties and Passions, but
Th'Impression of our Sence, our Flesh and Blood?
Or the Effects of Chance or Education?
Pamper'd we're wanton, Great we're proud, Distress'd
We're Pious, and in Love we're mad; and Sir,
Is Madness a Disease incurable?
No; were she mine, 'tis not a hundred Altomars
Should keep her from a Throne and Gayland's Arms;
And to perform the mighty Operation,
I'd keep her waking with the Name of Gayland,
Prevent her Morning Prayers with Gayland, Gayland.
She should scarce hear one word but Kings, Crowns, Empires.
Then would I make her Servants, nay, her very Priests
My Instruments: They should preach her into Love:
Tell her, her way to Heav'ns through Gayland's Arms.
Ah Sir, Religion does the rarest Feats
in Love; makes a coy Girl so kind, so pliant.
Then would I keep her caged, watch'd like a Bird,
Till she'd forgot her own wild barbarous Notes,
And learnt my nobler Ayres.

King.
Thou hast inspired me,
And I'll pursue the Sacred Path thou'st laid me.
I'll instantly t'her Chamber, and begin
The mighty Work: I'll shew her Greatness Empire
So bright, as shall uncloud her wandring Sences:
High as a Beacon fix the blazing Light,
To guide her through the Labyrinths of Night.

[Exit.
Mer.
As I could wish. Gon to the Princess Chamber,
Unarm'd, unguarded! Now for my Revenge:
Oh 'tis the best, the rarest luckiest hour,
That Night, the Bawd to murder
Could e'er have pickt me out. And thou proud scornful Syren,
Now to my Vengeance thy false Heart stands fair,
There is no surer Blood-hound than Despair.

[Exit.