University of Virginia Library

Act III.

SCENE the Princess's Apartment.
Enter on one Side Leonora, on the other Lorenzo.
LEONORA.
Ha! Lorenzo!
Why hast thou rashly disobey'd my Message?

Lor.
What means my Love?

Leon.
Saw'st thou not my Page? I sent him to thee,
And in my Letter warn'd thee not to come;
I fear we meet in Secret now no longer.

Lor.
I saw him not; but whence proceeds this Fear?

Leon.
Antenor, that old subtil lurking Villain,
This Day has hinted something to the King;
And tho' in outward Form I bore it off,
I with Confusion shudder'd all within:
None but the holy Man, who join'd our Hands,
Whose Faith's undoubted, knows our secret Loves;
And yet I tremble, lest we are betray'd.

Lor.
Be calm, my Love; we must, we are secure;
Come to my Arms, and loose all Thoughts of Fear.
'Twas I discover'd first this hidden Cave,
This secret Passage to this blissful Bower,
Hew'd by these Hands alone, at Dead of Night,
Not trusting any other with my Purpose;
Whilst Love, propitious to our mutual Wishes,
Bless'd my Endeavour, and inspir'd my Strength.
Thus unperceiv'd by the malicious World,
I steal to lovely Leonora's Bosom,
And gather there what Kings request in vain.

Leon.
Oh! Youth belov'd! thou Darling of my Soul
Thy Words would charm, and lull my Fears asleep,
Were there not something more than common in them.

Lor.
Oh, my fair Princess! by our Loves I swear,
The happiest Moments of my Life, are these;
These which I pass with beauteous Leonora.
Thou art the Guardian Angel, that defends me
Thro' all the various Dangers of the Field;
The Mem'ry of these Kisses fire my Soul;
And fond Desire of seeing thee again,
Gives true Herculean Courage to my Arm.
Ye dull Philosophers, that place Delight
And mighty Pleasure in any Thing but Love,
My Leonora's Form ne'er fill'd your Eye,
Nor shot her Beams of Light into your Soul.
Oh! thou art fairer than the Poets feign
The Queen of Love, in her most artful Dress;
Thy very Smiles are Graces waiting round,
Upon thy Lips the little Cupids hang,
And bask and wanton in thy Eyes by Turns.

Leon.
My dearest Lord, my faithful Husband, cease
These lavish Raptures which thy Love inspires.
I that have listen'd to thy Voice all Day,
With equal Transport clasp'd thee in my Arms,
And bounded ev'ry, wish within thy Bosom,
Now shrink and tremble at this fatal Meeting,
For something boding hovers o'er my Heart,
And checks the wonted Joy thy Presence brings.
Be gone, my Love, and endless Blessings wait thee.

Lor.
Unkindly urg'd; why wilt thou push me from thee?
Pleasure forsakes me, when I quit these Arms.
In Council or in Camp, my Soul's with thee,
And my charm'd Tongue can scarce forbear thy Name;
For Love and Leonora fill my Mind.
Thou'rt all the Subject that my Thoughts pursue;
Oh! that I could hold thee thus for ever,
Not all the Wealth that Indian Mines produce,
Should bribe me to forsake thee.

Leon.
Thy excessive Passion will undo us;
Prithee, no more—I do conjure thee leave me.

Lor.
Oh! thou hast rais'd me to such Height of Bliss,
That when my Soul is summon'd hence by Fate,
To taste the promis'd Joys of Paradice,
It cannot sure be more transported there.

Enter King and Antenor above.
Ante.
Now let your Majesty believe your Ears.

King.
I cannot! they are false—Confound the Traytor;
'Tis Magick sure—'Tis not Leonora.

Leon.
Hark! heard you not a Voice? Sure 'twas my Name.

Ante.
Speak lower, Sir, or you will lose your Prey.

Lor.
Thy Fears alone invade thy Ear, my Queen.

King.
Ha! his Queen! His Head shall answer for the Treason.

Lor.
Unbroken Silence reigns around this Place,
And nought intrudes, but murm'ring Sighs of Love.

Leon.
Sure 'tis the Terror of the Night I feel,
Or else some boding Mischief threatens near:
Methinks I see Antenor waiting still,
The ready Instrument of Fate he stands.
I know not why, but still my Thoughts are on him,
As if my Genius whisper'd me, Beware;
For he alone will ruin all thy Peace,
And yet my dear Defender must be gone:
Nay, do not loiter then, but haste away;
When thou art safe, perhaps my Fears may cease.

Lor.
And wilt thou drive me from these Arms so soon?
And dost thou think I can consent to leave thee?
Love is not satisfy'd with Words alone;
He would have kinder, softer Entertainment.

Leon.
When did I beg for parting, 'till this Hour?
Something there is that whispers to my Heart,
This Meeting will be fatal to us both;
And yet thou'lt stay, and pull our Ruin on.

Lor.
Haste thee, auspicious Regent of the Night,
And sudden bid the friendly Shades return,
When on my Bosom thou shalt lose these Fears.

Leon.
Perhaps they spring but from this Day's Alarm;
If so it prove, forgive a Woman's Weakness.
Away; open the Cave, descend, and leave me;
If nothing intervene to cross our Wishes,
To Morrow Night I will again expect thee.

Lor.
Death only can deprive that Expectation;
Farewel, thou fairest, best of all thy Kind.

[Opens the Trap, and descends.
King.
Well hast thou said; Death shall prevent thy Hopes.
Haste then, Antenor; thou who know'st the Passage,
So, take my Guards, and seize th'audacious Traytor.

Ant.
I fly, my gracious Sovereign.

[Ex. King and Antenor.
Leon.
Farewell! Alas! why did he say farewell?
That was, methinks, unluckily express'd.
How apt is Nature, when the Fancy works,
To observe each trifling Words as ominous?
Why these unnecessary Doubts upon me?
Have I done ought to sully my fair Name,
Or taint my Virtue in this secret Choice?
In Fame's Record Lorenzo foremost stands
The first of Heroes, yet surpass'd by none.
No conscious Blushes to my Cheeks can rise,
Which drag Repentance from a guilty Mind.
He is my Husband, and my Soul's at Peace;
That Thought supports me thro' all Storms of Fate.
No pois'nous Damp below can blast my Love,
Secure of just Protection from above.

[Exit.
SCENE the Grove adjoining to the Bower.
Enter Antenor and Guards.
Ant.
Here plant your selves, here, on this very Spot,
And from that Cave you'll instantly behold.
Th'impious Traytor which you are to seize,
And bear a Pris'ner to the Royal Fort.
Be not surpriz'd when you behold the Man;
'Tis the King's Order, and you must obey;
The Crime is what deserves no good Man's Pity.

Capt.
Our Bus'ness is not to dispute, my Lord.

Ante.
Now, tow'ring Lord Lorenzo, thou shalt fall;
Thy better Fortune smiles no longer on thee:
The fatal Sisters have resign'd to me
The slender Thread which holds thy mortal Being;
And like an Arrow thro' the yielding Air,
I fly with eager Haste to cut it—Yes,
Thou once remov'd, my Son again shall rise;
When I have prov'd the haughty Princess guilty,
And in a Father's Breast disarm'd her Power,
She'll dare no more t'oppose my purpos'd Greatness.
Be ready, for the Mole begins to work—Seize him.

Lor.
Ha! Villains!

[The Trap opens, and Lorenzo comes up; they seize him.
Capt.
Ha! what do I see?
Oh! why to me gave you this Charge, my Lord?
Wou'd I had dy'd, e'er I had rais'd my Hand.
Against the bravest, best of Men in War.
Set him free again.

[to the Guards.
Ante.
Your every Life shall answer his Escape;
He dies, that dares to mention Freedom for him.

Lor.
Oh, Traytor! art thou there, thou subtil Fiend.
Thou blackest trusty Instrument of Hell?
Nay, then I know my Doom's irrevocable
Now, Fellow-Soldiers, bear your General hence,
To darkest Dungeons, cruel Racks, or Death;
His Sight is worse than all the Pains they bring.

Ante.
Rail on, and see who thou can'st wound with Words;
All other Means are wanting to thee now.

Lor.
No, thou'rt not worth my Breath; and I disdain thee:
Come, my brave Warriors, who so oft have been
My Country's Bulwarks, and her sure Defence;
You, who at my Command have scatter'd Death
As thick as Corn from out the Sower's Hand,
And drove whole Armies o'er the bloody Plain,
Let not my Fate misguide your loyal Minds.
Tho' none can guard against a Villain's Arts,
Fortune can ne'er subdue a brave Man's Soul:
In Love and War, I've reach'd the top-most Summit,
And Ages hence I shall be read with Wonder;
Whilst thou, the most detested of thy Kind,
Shalt be with Horror mention'd—Lead on.

Ante.
Stay, I command you, 'till this Wretch shall know
To me alone he owes this Turn of Fate.
'Twas I that watch'd your Midnight Steps, and found
That dark Conveyance to your wanton Sports.

Lor.
Hold, Monster! Hell-hound; for thy Life, I charge thee,
Touch not a Fame thy Mother never knew;
Nor thy whole Lineage of the Female Race,
E'er since the first created Maid appear'd;
With Care correct thy bold blaspheming Tongue,
Least from the Root I tear the Viper out,
And make thee curse thou e'er hadst Use of Speech.

Ante.
Ha, ha, ha! away with him, and do as I commanded.

Enter Antimora.
Anti.
What horrid Noise invades this peaceful Place?
I promis'd here to meet the lovely Youth.
What do I see? My Brother seiz'd! Oh, say
What fatal Mischief wrought this sudden Change!

Lor.
Where should the fatal Mischief be! but there?
Has Hell a more malicious Fiend than he?
Yet in thy Bosom thou wilt hide his Faults,
Embrace his Blood, that gives thy Brother Death.
Go hang upon the Neck of his aspiring Son,
And kneel for Blessings from th'infectious Sire.
Forget my Choice, thy Family, and Name,
And be th'adopted Child to him I hate;
But from this Moment see my Face no more.

Anti.
Oh, Brother! oh my tortur'd Soul!

Ante.
My Son! Perdition seize him in that Hour
He dares to disobey the Charge I gave;
Never to think of ought belongs to thee,
I'd rather see him on the racking Wheel,
Impal'd, or dead, before my aching Eyes,
Than wedded into any Blood of thine.
Away with him,
And at your Peril lodge him in the Dungeon.

Lor.
Yes, Leonora, I will die for thee,
Without a Groan give up this Puff of Breath:
But when I think what Horror, what Despair
Will rend thy Breast, for thee alone I fear.

[Ex. guarded.
Anti.
Barbarians, hold! Oh! let me speak but to him.
He's gone, and will not deign to look upon me.
What sullen Star has clouded all thy Glory?
Our Family is grown the Sport of Fortune,
That, like a Ball, she tosses to and fro:
This Morning view'd him the Support of Kings;
The Evening shews he wants Support himself.
Oh! the uncertain Favours of a Court!
Let me think—What, is my Brother seiz'd by him
Who gave Learchus Being?—And shall I
Stay here, and listen to his am'rous Tale?
No, Antimora, arm thy tender Breast
With Resolution, and fly hence for ever;
And let thy Fame and Brother fill thy Soul:
But oh! th'Experiment is hard to make,
To hate Learchus for his Father's Sake!

Enter Learchus.
Lear.
My Ears the Eccho caught of sad Despair;
What of Learchus? What of Hate, my Love?
Methinks those Words from Antimora's Tongue,
Blast, like a Northern Wind, the op'ning Buds.

Anti.
No, Hate and thee, Learchus, are become
Inseparable Partners from this Moment;
For oh! there stands a Bar between our Loves,
That from each other severs us for ever.
Be banish'd then both from my Eyes and Heart;
'Tis owing all to thy incidious Father,
By whom my dearest Brother is betray'd.
Curse, curse, Learchus, curse the fatal Hour,
When the soft Passion took Possession first
Of our too easy Breasts, by Fate forbidden:
Curse the rebellious Thought which first inclin'd,
And made us listen to each other's Vows.
But oh! ten thousand Curses on the Cause,
Yes, multiply them, Heav'n, and fix 'em all,
All on thy Father's Guilt, which parts us now!

[Ex.
Lear.
I am astonish'd! Stay, my Love—she's gone,
And left me in such Labyrinths of Thought,
My Senses all seem wilder'd!

Enter Agonistus.
Ago.
My Lord, why stand you musing here alone
When all the Court's in Hurry and Confusion?
Your Father has discover'd to the King
Some horrid Treason by Lorenzo done,
For which he's sent a Pris'ner to the Fort.

Lear.
Say'st thou! A Pris'ner! then I know the Cause
Of Antimora's killing Grief. Away,
And let me learn the Story of his Crimes.

[Exeunt.
The SCENE changes to the Princess's Apartment. She is discover'd reading.
Leon.
Here have I met a Tale so mourn'd by Ovid,
So tenderly express'd to move our Pity,
Where Canace, by her Father's dread Command,
Presents the Dagger to her panting Breast.
Ha! why am I alarm'd at this?—Her Guilt
Is what my chaster Bosom never knew;
And yet methinks I feel a Fear upon me.

Enter Lady.
Lady.
Oh! pardon my Intrusion, Royal Madam,
The King denies without to hear us speak;
But with a sullen clouded Brow demands
To see you instantly—

Leon.
He does not use to treat me thus; but go,
Call in my Women, and leave free the Passage.

Enter Ladies, and stand behind her. Then the King and Guards.
King.
Guards, wait without.

Leon.
My Royal Father.

[Rises.
King.
Dismiss your idle Train;
This is a Scene of Life for us alone,
And where you'll find there's no Attendance wanted.

Leon.
Whatever, Sir, you purpose to relate,
Your Daughter yet has never learn'd to fear.
Ladies, withdraw—

[Ex. Ladies.
King.
And art thou then so harden'd in thy Crimes?
Oh! let my Heart forget a Father's Fondness!
Let softer Pity fly to suff'ring Saints,
Nor once invade the Conference we hold.

Leon.
I cannot guess the Tale you mean to tell,
But by your Aspect know it must be dreadful.
Oh! all ye Powers who see, and rule this World,
Give me, in this severe Extremity,
My Father's Soul, to stand my Father's Charge,
My Mother's Purity's already mine!

King.
Ha! dar'st thou name thy Mother, vile Contagion?
She was all Virtue.

Leon.
Oh! do not look so fiercely on your Child,
[kneels.
The only Relict of your once lov'd Queen;
But turn your Eyes, and see mine drown'd in Tears;
Those Eyes which you've so often kiss'd, and swore
They wore the dear Resemblance of my Mother;
Which to preserve from that Destroyer, Grief,
You cou'd forego the gay Delights of Empire.
Oh! with that Temper now, that former Fondness,
Hear, and forgive the Errors of my Youth.

King.
Blast me, ye Powers, if ever I forgive!
No, I will punish thee as thou deserv'st;
Remove the Cause that led thy Soul astray,
And shew thee what it is to love a Slave.

Leon.
Unhappy Leonora!

King.
I'll have, for ev'ry Kiss the Traytor gave thee,
By which he stain'd the Glory of his King,
His Flesh by Morsels torn with Pincers off,
And make a Passage for his lustful Blood,
To wash those Spots away.

Leon.
Avert it, Heav'n! On me wreak all your Vengeance;
On me, on me your Daughter, let it fall:
But spare the Man which I first taught to love;
If not for me, oh! for your own Sake spare him!
Spare your Defender, for your Kingdom's Sake;
Let him not fall (by whom we're all in Safety)
A Victim to a Politician's Malice.

King.
Perish that Kingdom with thy self and me,
Whene'er I save a Traytor from the Stroke.

Leon.
Oh! Royal Sir, revoke those killing Words,
And call his Services to your Rememb'rance;
The glorious Victories which your Arms have won,
Under the Conduct of my Lord Lorenzo:
'Twas he that sav'd your Cities from your Foes,
And made the Laurel flourish on your Brow:
Remember too, how much you lov'd him for't;
Your Praise it was that drew my Eyes that Way,
And your Esteem created one in me.

King.
Away, and loose thy Hold! why dost thou hold me?
Think'st thou to sooth me with thy Eloquence?

Leon.
Oh! 'tis the subtil Malice of Antenor;
He looks with envious Eyes upon him,
Because you plac'd him in his Son's Command,
And dash'd his Hopes, that durst aspire to me.
What Trains of Mischief proud Ambition brings!
Hate, Envy, Jealousy, and Death spring from it.
It breaks all Ties of Blood, all mutual Faith,
And even levels Liberty with Chains.
Oft in the Crimes of one ambitious Man
Have many guiltless Nations been involv'd.

King.
Well hast thou describ'd that curss'd Ambition
Which rais'd the Viper that my Smiles had form'd,
To wanton with the Honour of his King:
But he shall suffer long convulsive Pangs,
And vainly ask us for the Stroke of Grace.
If, as thou say'st, that thou dost live by him,
Then when he ceases to diffuse his Warmth,
Thou, like some puny Insect, must expire,
And, dying, curse the Author of thy Shame.

Leon.
Oh, do not think my Fault exceeds Forgiveness!
My Soul's not conscious of a Crime 'gainst Virtue;
I challenge Envy for a seeming Cause,
That my fair Innocence would blush to own.

King.
Audacious Wretch! have I not seen thee wanton?
Loll on his Bosom, and devour his Kisses?
Confusion! dar'st thou to talk of Virtue?

Leon.
Alas! the only Place of Rest for Leonora,
Is in her faithful Husbands Arms.

King.
Ha! what say'st thou?

Leon.
He is my Husband; yes, my wedded Husband;
Remember, Sir, you left me free to chuse;
Then, what I chuse, do not unkindly kill.

King.
Patience, good Heav'n, or I shall kill her too;
I would not spare him now, to save my Crown;
No, this Confession does but wing his Fate;
Off, or I'll spurn thee from me.

Leon.
Go on, go on, and satisfy your Rage;
[rises.
Try all the Racks Antenor can invent,
And all that Majesty incens'd can form,
And see with what a Constancy of Mind
I am prepar'd to meet your Indignation.
I feel my Spirits gather to my Heart,
And man it out with Courage for the Tryal.
The Ardour of my Flame can ne'er abate,
'Tis chaste and holy as the Vestal Rites;
And if you'll rip this Breast that heaves with Love,
You'll find his Image sit triumphant there.

King.
So, brave! but wherefore does my Vengeance loyter?
Soon shall thy loasted Constancy be try'd.
Yes, Trayt'ress! I will teach thy Disobedience
What 'tis to wound the Fondness of a Father,
And make the Heart drop Blood, that doated on thee.

Leon.
Kill me this Moment.

King.
I disdain the Proxy;
He, he, for whom thou hast abandon'd Duty,
Betray'd a Parent, and disgrac'd a Throne;
He shall return the fatal Stroke upon thee.
Hug his Idea, dwell upon his Memory;
For dearly hast thou bought him—at the Price
Of Honour—of thy Father—and a Crown.

[Exit.
Leon.
Oh dreadful Resolution!
Hear me, Father! oh, hear me but one Word!
He's gone, he's gone, and with him all my Hopes.
Now, ye malicious Stars, your worst prepare,
Unite your pois'nous Force, and fix it here.
Let Want of Thought my too much Thought destroy,
Let me for Refuge into Madness fly,
At once unknowing both of Pain and Joy.
But oh! I rave and waste my idle Breath;
Fain I'd preserve him from inglorious Death.
To save my Husband, I will hazard all,
Or bravely perish with him in his Fall.

Exit.
Enter Antimora and Learchus.
Anti.
Stay, my Learchus, I was looking for thee.
Can'st thou forget the Transports of my Grief,
And all that it produc'd, when last I saw thee?

Lear.
Ask thy own Heart, my Love, when thou wouldst know
The most important secret Thought of mine;
For there I treasure all my Good or Ill.

Anti.
I'm calm and gentle now, as heretofore;
No Fire my Eyes, nor Rage my Heart contains;
My Tongue no Curses vent against thy Father:
Nay, if thou wilt but answer my Request,
I can forgive the Jnjury.

Lear.
What can the Ruler of my Fate intend!

Anti.
Oh! if thy Love but equals half my Woe,
Thou wilt be kind, and ease my aching Bosom.

Lear.
Is it in me to give thy Sorrows Ease?
And do'st thou, can'st thou doubt of my Compliance?
My Heart springs forth to be instructed how
That I may leave ev'n Thought behind to serve thee.

Anti.
Thus then, my Brother, by the King condemn'd
To suffer in Extremity of Torments,
Th'Idea wounds my Heart beyond Expression,
And only thou can'st save me from Despair.
Wilt thou! Oh! wilt thou promise me Relief,
Now when I beg it in extreamest Need?
[kneels.
Remember once thou wast a Suppliant too,
Low at my Feet, as I am now at thine;
I pity'd thee, and wip'd thy Tears away.

Lear.
Oh! rise, my Love, and rack my Soul no longer,
But tell me quickly what this Boon can be,
That thou do'st ask at such a Distance of me;
This Ceremony, and this Expectation
Makes it painful to me.

Anti.
Thou, only thou, can'st ease thy self and me,
Then mark me well, my Brother is thy Pris'ner,
Let him escape, and I'm for ever thine.

Lear.
Oh, Antimora! how thou shock'st my Duty!
But have a Care, make not a Villain of me;
Do not thou press me to betray my Trust;
Who forfeits Honour, will be false to Love;
And well I know thou ne'er would'st Love me after,
Tho', hurry'd now with Fondness for thy Brother,
Thoud'st have me do what thou thy self would'st blame,
And hate me, ev'n whilst thou thank'd'st me for't;
There is but this one Thing I cou'd refuse thee.

Anti.
Wilt thou deny my first Request, Learchus?
And wil't thou dare to mention Love hereafter?

Lear.
Send me to Lyons raging in their Den,
Long Time pent up, and rav'nous for their Prey;
Command me to encounter Hosts of Foes,
Tho' certain Death attends on ev'ry Side,
And see how readily I will obey thee;
But what concerns my Country or my King,
Love even wants Temptation to betray.

Anti.
Under this feign'd Allegiance thou would'st hide
Thy ancient Hatred to my Brother's Name;
But I have found thee out thro' all thy Turnings,
And here I cancel all our former Vows;
Be every Thought of thee torn from my Breast,
And Enmity eternal grow between us;
This Hand, on which thou ha'st so often swore,
And kiss'd, and breath'd thy false pretended Flame,
I'll give to him that sets my Brother free,
And rack my self, to be reveng'd on thee.

[Exit.
Lear.
Was e'er Condition so forlorn as mine?
At once fond Love and Duty tear my Bosom.
Love bids my Heart obey without Controul,
But Duty checks my Love, and awes my Soul:
Of these two great Extreams which shall I take,
Shall I my Mistress or my King forsake?
To both I would be faithful, did I know
What Method I could take to make me so.
Direct me, Heav'n, amidst these Doubts that rise,
Which to preserve, and which to sacrifice.

[Exit.
SCENE changes to the Princess's Apartment.
Enter Leonora and Cardono, discoursing.
Leon.
If Antimora's Passion fails to move,
And bring Learchus over to our Interest,
Thou may'st have Hope, Cardono, to succeed;
For she has vow'd to see his Face no more,
If he denies to set Lorenzo free.

Card.
My Friend and you command what e'er I can,
But I despair of Antimora's Love;
Nor will I poorly ask it on such Terms;
To free Lorenzo, none would hazard more;
If in the Field I saw his Life beset,
My own, for his, should offer at the Ransom;
But to attempt his Rescue here, is fruitless,
When under Sentence by the King's Command,
And guarded by his most inveterate Foe;
'Twou'd plunge us all in certain Death at once,
And not relieve, but bring his End on faster.

Leon.
Then will you tamely stand, and see him die!
His Death conspir'd to feed a Traytor's Pride;
And will you nothing dare, to save your Friend?
Can you forget who led you forth to conquer,
And stood the Danger equal with the Meanest?
Has he not gain'd immortal Honours for you?
And made the Name, the very Name of Lombard,
More formidable than once the Romans were,
And can you now refuse to lend him Succour?

Card.
Oh, Royal Madam! think with what Concern
I hear your Words, and know my Friend's Distress!
Think you I need these Arguments to rouse me!
No, I only want the Means to set him free,
And not the Will to do it.

Enter Antimora.
Leon.
See where the mourning Antimora comes,
Like Lillies weeping with the Morning Dew,
Which, tho' it wets, yet sullies not their Beauty:
I fear, alas! to ask thee what Success.

Anti.
For me, most gracious Princess, nought remains,
Not the least Gleam of Comfort now appears:
My Hopes are dead, as soon will be my Brother:
Where shall I hide me from the fatal News,
Or how support me under it?

Leon.
That both thou and I must leave to Providence:
But, say, suppose that I should find a Way,
With Lord Cardono's Help, to free Lorenzo,
What wouldest thou contribute to his Liberty.

Anti.
Oh! most ador'd of Princes, let me kneel,
[kneels,
And bless you for this Supposition only.
If ought in me could aid the glorious Work,
Tho 'twere to lance these Veins, and let out Life,
If I deny'd, may Heav'n deny my Prayers,
When in my last Extremity I make 'em.
[rises.
But oh! I know what 'tis that you would ask,
And therefore make the Offer of my self.
Hear me, ye Powers, and curse me if I fail,
Whoever gives my dearest Brother Freedom,
The holy Priest shall give him Antimora;
Yes, I am his, and I will love him too,
At least, I'm sure I shall not love another.

Card.
Let Death attend in all those hideous Forms
That Tyrants study to afflict Mankind with,
I'd rush thro' all for such a glorious Prize;
Love and Friendship now surmount all Danger,
My Princess, Mistress, and my Friend, are Names
That give to Resolution double Strength;
Propose the Manner, and conclude it done.

Leon.
Behold the Signet of the King, Cardono;
Tho' how procur'd, imports not you to know;
This gives you Admittance to Lorenzo;
Six trusty Slaves whom I have bought to serve me,
All resolutely bold, and bent for Action,
Wait without, and ready for the Enterprize:
The Officer who guards the Fort this Day,
I also have brought over to our Interest;
His Soldiers are by this prepar'd with Wine,
To let you pass unheeded thro' the Fort;
If any others should resist, these Men,
At your Command, will soon dispose of them.

Anti.
So may you prosper, as your Cause is just,
And be rewarded as your Soul desires.

Card.
Such a Reward would make a Coward brave;
But if Success should crown our rising Hopes,
Where can Lorenzo safely lye conceal'd
From the quick-sighted Eye of Power and Malice?

Leon.
Below the Postern Gate you'll find a Boat,
That ready waits to pass him o'er the Adige,
Where I have order'd Horses to attend him,
By which he may escape to Rome.

Card.
Enough.
Now, Madam, Death or Lorenzo's Liberty;
Remember, Antimora, what you swore.
[Ex. Cardono.

Anti.
I do, and will observe it faithfully.

Leon.
Look down, ye Angels, with propitious Smiles;
You, whose Business 'tis to guard the Innocent
Thro' all the Mazes of this treach'rous World,
And give a just Account of mortal Actions.
Look down, I say, and bless us with Success,
And seal the Vow that here I make before you;
That if it e'er shall be my Lot to reign,
And fill the Throne of my great Ancestors,
Each Year I'll dedicate this Day to Heaven,
And all the Realm shall pay its Thanks with me.
Religion is the best Support of Power,
And honest Men are still its best Defenders.

Anti.
Forgive me, Heaven, if, for my Brother's Sake,
I wish she were already on the Throne.
How natural is it to prefer those Things
That touch us nearly, Spite of Education?
For tho' I have been ever taught to love,
And pay a strict Obedience to my Sovereign,
Yet now I feel that Nature's eldest Law
Pleads strongly in me for my Brother's Life:
And oh! this Day, if young Cardono prospers,
I give a fatal Proof of my Affection.
Now to the Postern, where I'll wait to see
What Destiny allots for him and me:
If Life, I care not how my Lot is cast,
Since all my Joys are in my Brother plac'd;
But if a Blank, and Death these Hopes succeed,
At once I'm from my Vow, and all my Sorrows freed.

[Exit.
Leon.
Lorenzo is a Pattern for Posterity;
It matters not from whence, or whom he sprung,
Since he has all that forms the Godlike Hero.
The Man, tho' ne'er so meanly born in Blood,
That, next his Soul, prefers his Country's Good;
Who more than Interest, does his Honour prize,
And scorns by secret Treachery to rise;
That can the base and gilded Bribe disdain,
Prevent Reflections on his Prince's Fame,
And point out glorious Virtues for his Reign:
That Man should be a Monarch's chiefest Care,
And none but such should Royal Favours wear.

[Exit.