 | The Cruel Gift |  |
1
ACT I.
SCENE the Palace.Enter Antenor and Learchus.
ANTENOR.
Away, 'tis all Romantick;
The lazy Virtue of some dreaming Hermit:
Far be Ambition from their homely Cells:
But what hast thou to do with ill-tim'd Honesty?
Observe me well, and treasure in thy Soul
The experienc'd Wisdom of thy Father;
Let Interest be thy bright unerring Guide,
The secret darling Purpose of thy Heart.
Believe me, Boy, she reigns Supreme below;
Honours and endless Pleasure wait around her;
When she commands, smile on the Man thou hatest,
Caress him to inevitable Ruin.
2
To Women leave the fond Deceiver, Love;
That Bar to Glory, and to great Revenge.
Think not of Friendship, more than of a Word,
Which, once gone forth, is lost in idle Air.
Lear.
Is this the Language of Paternal Love?
Forbid it, all good Men, that I should think so.
You mean to prove my Soul, and 'tis most just;
For many wear the borrow'd Mask of Goodness;
But I was made in Scorn of Artifice;
Superior Virtue is my awful Goddess,
My pleasing Motive, and my wish'd Reward.
Whether she leads me to the active Field,
Or the more dangerous Court, she guides my Life:
Fame, Honour, Wealth, when by her Hand bestow'd,
With grateful Joy submissive I'll receive them;
But offer'd by the World in Lieu of her,
With Scorn I'd throw them back, as empty Trifles,
Unworthy of an honest Man's Regard.
Ante.
Dull Moralist! hast thou no Taste of Power!
No Thirst of Glory! No ambitious Longings,
To raise thy Soul, and bear thee up to Empire?
And can'st thou let Lorenzo tower above thee?
Call to Remembrance all thy noble Ancestors,
Who all fell Victims to the Rage of his.
Consider this; then think if thou art injur'd
Enough to prompt thee to a great Revenge.
Lear.
Far be the Thought of Vengeance from my Soul;
I view with equal Justice Friends and Enemies:
Pride may perhaps pronounce This, Weakness in me.
No Matter what the haughty Mind suggests;
I'd rather wear the Name of Good than Great.
Ante.
Why, this is finely said.
Lear.
For Lorenzo, since my Royal Master,
Whose great undoubted Right has Power to give,
Bestow'd on him the Honours which I wore;
Long may they flourish with him; who shall dare
Blame you in giving or resuming Favours?
Then ought we, Sir, t'impose on Majesty,
What in our selves we would not bear?
3
Go on, go on, pursue this darling Vapour,
Unthinking to what Precipice it leads;
Extol Lorenzo, dwell upon his Praise,
And help to swell the popular Applause.
Forget the Conquests that have crown'd thy Valour,
The numerous Wounds thou hast sustain'd in Battel
For this insulting, this ungrateful King!
Lear.
Wore not my Sword the Freedom of my Country?
Wounds lose their Smart in such a glorious Cause:
He who for Interest, or for base Revenge,
Should in a private Quarrel sell his Foe,
Deserves the Scorn of every good Man for't;
But he who would enslave his native Land,
Give up the reverend Rights of Law and Justice,
To the detested Lust of boundless Tyranny,
Pollute our Altars, change our holy Worship,
Deserves the Curses both of Heaven and Earth,
And, from Society of human Kind,
To be cast forth among the Beasts of Prey,
A Monster far more savage.
Ante.
Excellent!
Lear.
For me—
I know no Glory, but my Country's Good,
Nor Anger bear 'gainst any, but her Foes;
But all her Enemies are mine; for her
I'd make this Body one entire Scar,
Ere I would see my Country made a Prey,
Or know the King, to whom I've sworn, distress'd;
And this I hold to be all brave Mens Duty.
Ante.
Matchless Stupidity!—
Art thou from me, from my strong Blood deriv'd,
And can thy ebbing Pulses beat so low,
So distant from the Vigour of my Soul?
But, Spite of Artifice, I see quite thro' thee;
Ill dost thou hide from me the hated Cause
Of this tame Suffering, this Bastard Patience.
Deaf to Ambition, foolish Love betrays thee.
Lorenzo's Sister, Antimora reigns
The pow'rful Mistress o'er thy Heart and Fame;
Thy easy Mind, fond of the slavish Yoke,
4
I bad thee lift thine Eyes to Leonora,
The beauteous Hope of this fair Kingdom.
Lear.
Yes, that guilty Thought of yours undid me.
Oh! was it not, that finding your Ambition,
The angry King, to scatter all your Hopes,
Ruin'd guiltless me?
Ante.
Well, I remember his ungrateful Rage,
Remember it with just Indignation;
And thou as soon might'st think to reconcile
Th'eternal Quarrel between Death and Nature,
As quench my eager Thirst of Vengeance.
Yet I dissembled well my Injuries,
And sooth'd the fiery King with so much Art,
The bold Proposal was mistook for Zeal,
To keep the beauteous Leonora with us.
'Twas thus the Monarch's Favour I regain'd,
His wanting this experienc'd Head for Council.
When that old Sophister Alcanor dy'd,
I rose again prime Minister of State;
And now have in my View a brave Design,
Of which thou art unworthy to partake.
Lear.
My Want of Merit is my Pride in this;
For where Revenge and Fraud are of the Party,
I would not be admitted—
Ante.
You wou'd not, Sir—
But tho' Crowns and Pow'r want Charms to move thee,
And Injury seems to have lost her pointed Sting;
When thou shalt know that Antimora's given,
A Pledge of Friendship, from her Brother's Hand,
To his dear Fav'rite and Fellow-Warrior,
I know thy Spirits will be all awake.
Lear.
Ha!
Ante.
Yes, that dang'rous Maid, who has misled thee,
For whom all filial Duty is forgot,
All Wrongs forgiven, all Ambition quench'd,
Must be Cardono's Wife—
Lear.
I know Lorenzo loves the Man you mention;
But that he is to wed fair Antimora,
Is all a Dream, work'd up by waking Malice.
The Souls of Martyrs, mounting from the Flame,
5
But you have Leave to say whate'er you please,
And I, unruffl'd, will with Calmness hear you.
Ante.
Go on, young Stoick, bless these Pair of Friends;
Go, bend thy Knee to this young Fav'rite low;
Resign thy Mistress to the other's Arms,
And be renown'd for Patience!
Lear.
When I do that, let Infamy and Shame
Pursue and blot the Name of Soldier from me.
Give up my Mistress, quit the Maid I love!
As soon I would give up my Post in War,
Resign the Soul which animates this Frame,
And to that latest Nothing be reduc'd,
Where Love and Glory cease—But oh! I rave;
Her Brother's Pow'r, no, not the King's Command,
Can shock her Faith—
Ante.
Build not thy Hopes upon a Woman's Faith,
But join with me, and greatly be reveng'd.
I have the Means, Lorenzo's in my Snare;
Deep as the Grave I've trac'd his erring Steps,
And seen him safe within the Toils of Fate;
Once more I warn thee to throw off thy Love;
Wake from this idle Amorous Lethargy,
And shun that falling House, like Loss of Honour;
Exert thy Soul, and aid my great Design,
Or from this Moment thou'rt no more my Son.
[Ex.
Lear.
Wou'd I indeed were not, unhappy Thought.
[Enter Agonistus.]
My Agonistus—
Oh! much I wanted thee, and thou art come
Even to share Misfortunes with thy Friend.
Thou kind, thou best Companion of my Youth;
Thou Partner in my Dangers, well I know thee.
Should Father, King, and ev'ry Star frown on me,
Thou would'st not forsake me.
Ag.
Much sooner shall this fertile Kingdom change
Her happy pregnant Soil for sterile Sand,
Than I forsake my Friend—Come, be not sad,
Thou wilt again regain thy Master's Favour.
Lear.
Thou know'st me not—
If thou dost think I in the least regard
6
Or o'er what Fav'rite she insulting drives:
A softer Care does all my Thoughts employ;
Love, Agonistus, is the fatal Source
From whence my Sorrows spring.
Ag.
I've guess'd it long,
But knew not to what Fair your Vows were paid.
Lear.
Now I will tell thee all th'important Story,
And ease my burthen'd Heart of half its Load.
Thou art well acquainted with that ancient Hate
Between Lorenzo's Family and mine,
And must remember to have heard at least
His Grand-father, when over-power'd by Faction,
From Court exil'd, pass'd many Years in Venice;
During which Time his Son, the Lord Alcanor,
Marry'd a beautiful Venetian Lady,
And he had Issue by her this Lorenzo,
And Antimora, of whom she dy'd in Child-bed.
Soon after this, his Father also dy'd.
Alcanor strait employ'd his Friends, t'obtain
Leave from the King for his Return to Lombardy.
The King gave Leave; he came, and liv'd obscurely,
In sullen Solitude, and haughty Privacy.
Ag.
I do remember to have heard this Story.
Lear.
In a lone ancient Seat Alcanor liv'd,
Hard by a Castle which belong'd to us;
'Twas there I first beheld fair Antimora,
And, gazing, catch'd and gather'd growing Love.
Bright as a Sylvan Goddess she appear'd,
And shot her beauteous Beams into my Soul.
In some Disguise I waited every Day,
'Till in one happy Ev'ning I at last
Met her as she was walking forth alone;
With trembling Awe I ventur'd to approach her,
And on my Knees I begg'd that she would hear
The truest Passion that e'er warm'd a Lover.
Ag.
And she consented—
Lear.
At first she heard with Caution, still objecting
Our Houses Hatred, and my prosp'rous Fate,
And charg'd me to suppress the growing Flame,
And fix my Choice on some more happy Maid,
7
Might vindicate my Love—
Ag.
Thus Minds, form'd truly great, bear up their Port.
Lear.
But still I press'd, and told the lovely Fair one
My wakeful restless Agonies of Heart,
My eager Fondness, and my growing Fears,
The Pains of Doubt, and Horror of Despair,
With every Care which racks a Lover's Breast.
At length the Ardor of my fervent Vows
Drew from her snowy Bosom, unawares,
A pitying Sigh, and from her Eyes a Tear,
The rich Reward of many anxious Minutes.
At last she spoke, and bless'd me with this Promise;
If there be yet a smiling Hour behind,
That shall the Grandeur of our House restore;
You, who have lov'd me in this Ebb of Fortune,
Shall find a grateful Sense in Antimora.
Ag.
She is indeed a Miracle of Goodness.
Lear.
She gave me Leave to see her every Day;
But soon, alas! my Father's waking Jealousy
Discover'd where my constant Vows were paid,
And urg'd the King I might be sent Abroad.
The Turkish War concluded just before,
And Lombardy was by this Arm in Peace;
And 'cause no warlike Expedition offer'd,
I bore a peaceful Embassy to Rome.
Before I went, I saw the lovely Maid,
And told her all the Cunning of my Father,
With all the Trouble of my Soul at Parting.
She bid me go, and said it was my Duty
To serve my King in Peace, as well as War;
Then breath'd a Sigh, and promis'd to be faithful.
'Twas thus we parted. Soon after I was gone,
Oh, Agonistus! fain I would forget it,
My Father all our Letters intercepted;
And, blinded with the daz'ling Lustre of a Throne,
Rais'd his ambitious Thoughts to Leonora,
And dar'd to ask her for my Services.
Ag.
Unlucky Thought!
Lear.
Oh! most abhorr'd Ambition!
8
And Lord Alcanor grew again in Favour.
The Tuscan War about that Time broke out,
When this Lorenzo, this young Rival-Warrior,
Had first the Honour to command our Forces;
He rose in Favour, whilst I set in Shame.
Ag.
Swiftly he rose, as if the Goddess Fortune
Became enamour'd with his many Graces;
No sooner seen, but all her Smiles were on him.
Lear.
For this I was recall'd, disgrac'd, upbraided, ruin'd,
And banish'd from the Sight of Antimora;
Beneath her Window, wet with baleful Dew,
All Night I lay, and told each Star my Grief.
She prais'd my Change, confess'd the Prince's Charms,
And all Access deny'd to wretched me;
'Till Love, long tortur'd on the Rack of Grief,
Convinc'd her of my much-wrong'd Innocence;
She smil'd, and bid me hope a better Day;
But oh! what Day can I expect to see,
If what my Father told me now be true?
Cardono weds the beauteous Antimora;
But haste, my Friend, tell her Learchus dies,
When e'er she makes that hated Rival happy.
Ag.
I fly; but see the Friends appear.
Lear.
Ha! how quick my Spirits move; I'm all on Fire;
What head-strong Rage does Jealousy inspire?
This is the Court, safe from unhallow'd Strife;
When next we meet, guard well that hated Life;
Thou shalt dispute my Antimora's Charms,
And through this Breast make Passage to her Arms.
[Ex.
Enter Lorenzo and Cardono.
Lor.
Was that Learchus parted hence?
Card.
It was.
Lor.
They say his Mind is rich in ev'ry Virtue;
A Stranger to his Father's canker'd Malice,
And of a friendly Nature; yet I know not,
9
Beware that Race.
Card.
Oh, most Prophetick Thought!
Teach Antimora to beware it too;
Forgive my Fears; Lovers have watchful Eyes;
Or I mistake, or he is much too happy.
Lor.
The Error of thy Fondness, nothing more;
She is the Daughter of Antipathy,
Nurs'd up in Hate to that invet'rate House,
And, like my self, unalterable.
Card.
Fain, oh! very fain, would I believe thee;
My Hopes are center'd in that blooming Maid,
And Life, without her, is not worth my Care:
Yet when I speak of my excessive Passion,
To me she seems more cold than Mountain-Snow,
And hears with Unconcern what e'er I say;
But if, by Chance, some one Learchus name,
A conscious Blush o'er-spreads her Face, and strait
She turns away, to hide the rising Joy.
Lor.
Sure, my Friend, thou dost mistake her Looks;
That bold Aspirer, most abhorr'd Antenor,
Once dar'd to ask the Princess for his Son:
Oh! were it but for that presumptuous Guilt,
I'd sooner wed my Sister to Dishonour,
To Misery, or Death, than to Learchus.
But see! she comes! as I appointed her;
I mean by gentle Means to aid thy Suit.
Card.
The Powers above assist thee.
Enter Antimora.
Ant.
Cardono with him! Oh! my boading Heart.
[aside
Card.
Who can describe the Lovers painful Pleasure
At the Approach of his enchanting Fair?
Anti.
I come to know my dearest Brother's Will.
Lor.
Come nearer, Sister; why dost tremble so?
Hast thou a Cause for Fear, my Antimora?
Anti.
I hope I need not fear my gentle Brother;
Whilst you are safe from Wars destructive Rage,
And bless me with your Smiles, I have no Fear.
10
Am I then dear to thee? tell me my Sister.
Anti.
Dear as my Life, my Virtue, of my Fame;
You are the fondest, truest, best of Brothers.
Tender and careful as a Guardian Angel:
Since gracious Heaven took my Father from me,
Thy kind Indulgence has supply'd his Care;
That Providence may crown thy Hopes and Wishes,
Is, each returning Morn, my first Request.
Lor.
If thou would'st have me credit these fond Accents,
Which more, if possible, endear thee to me,
Look on Cardono—on this suff'ring Youth,
Who treasures all his future Hopes in thee;
Pity his Sorrows, and prevent his Fate;
And if no other Merit reach thy Knowledge,
Remember that he is my Friend.
Anti.
That speaks him of a noble Nature, Sir,
And I shall still regard him with Esteem.
Card.
Too weak a Cordial to my fainting Heart,
That sickens with Despair.
[aside.
Lor.
Esteem! Think, I prithee, what I owe him,
And help me to discharge the mighty Debt;
Oft in the Field he has my Life preserv'd,
When warm'd with Slaughter, I have rush'd too far,
And plung'd my self amongst my thickest Foes,
Hem'd round with Death; and yet he broke thro' all,
Resolv'd to rescue, or to perish with me.
Anti.
Superior Virtue cannot miss Reward.
Lor.
Thou must reward him, Sister; yes, thou must,
If I have any Interest in thy Breast;
If I have well obey'd our Father's Charge,
And been a Father to thee; or, if thou
Hast not forgot his dying last Command,
Never to wed without my Approbation,
Then, if thoud'st know me happy, make him so.
Anti.
Forbear, thou kind Protector of my Youth,
Forbear to wound thy Antimora thus;
Nor vainly ask what I can never grant.
There was a Time you would have sought my Peace;
Give me not Cause to think you love me less.
Lor.
Thou'rt dearer to me than the Smiles of Kings,
My Hopes of Glory, or immortal Fame;
11
Safe in the Arms of this deserving Man,
Who merits, and who fondly loves thee.
Anti.
Think you, my Lord Cardono, this the Way?
Use you Authority to gain your Wishes?
Power may dispose of Life; but rest assur'd
A gen'rous Mind can never be compell'd.
Card.
Alas! my Friend, your Kindness has undone me.
Lor.
Take heed, my Sister, how you wake mine Anger,
Which will, like Light'ning, blast thy unwary Soul:
Is there a Form thy erring Choice prefers,
To this brave Man? My Rage will find him out,
And hurl a swift Destruction on his Head:
Nay, do not weep, Tears will avail thee nothing;
Can it be possible thou shouldst forget
From whence thou art, and listen to Learchus,
The Son of that vile Parricide Antenor?
Detested Thought!
Anti.
Oh wretched Antimora!
Lor.
Ha! dar'st thou to sigh for him, degen'rate Wretch!
Then hear me, Madam, and observe me well;
Teach thy fond Heart t'accept the proffer'd Good,
Or from thy Disobedience date long Woe;
Affection shall give Place to vow'd Severity;
Unseen, unnam'd, unpity'd, shalt thou live,
And waste the tedious Hours in vain Remorse;
Nor will I ever hold Discourse with thee,
But to upbraid thy Weakness.
Anti.
Oh! my Brother! my only Friend on Earth!
[kneels.
Recal those Words, those dreadful hasty Words,
And rather kill me any other Way.
Card.
Oh! hold Lorenzo, I can bear no more.
[raises her.
Jealousy, Disappointments, and Despair,
Are Joys to what my Heart this Moment feels;
She must have Ease, whatever comes of me.
Anti.
Where have you lost your wonted Tenderness?
Think if our dearest Father now were living,
12
Against your Inclination, charge you wed,
Or if like me you lov'd where Tyes of Duty
Make that Love a Crime, what would you do?
Lor.
She touches me indeed—Prithee comply.
Anti.
If Antimora may have Leave to plead;
If I have yet a Place in your Esteem;
If from your Breast you have not raz'd me quite,
Give to my throbbing Heart a little Time
To weigh the many Cares which hang upon it;
And I must beg, that you, my Lord Cardono,
No longer would insist upon his Power;
Urge not a Cause, that may increase Debate
Between the kindest, most united Pair
That e'er one Mother bore.
Card.
Severe Request; but I obey.
Lor.
Take thy Desire, my Sister; but remember,
That if you wou'd preserve a Brother's Love,
Let not the Woman sway thee to thy Ruin.
Go then, I say, and summon all thy Reason,
Direct the Ballance with an even Hand;
Consider, Duty, Honour, Gratitude,
Are poiz'd against that Trifle, Inclination.
Then let Impartial Judgment guide thy Choice;
Tear from thy Virgin Breast th'inglorious Passion,
If thou regard'st thy own, or Brother's Fame.
Car.
Remember my Despair, for the same Breath
Which makes him happy, gives me certain Death.
[Ex. Lorenzo and Cardono.
Anti.
What dire malignant Planet rul'd my Fate?
Why was I born to Love where I should hate?
Where I should hate! No I should all Things Love,
Such are the Dictates of the Powers above;
Then what they teach, they surely will defend,
On their great Care shall all my Hopes depend,
To crown my Love, or give my Life an End.
[Exit.
Enter Antenor, and hears her last Words.
Ante.
Curse on thy Brother, how I hate his Sight;
Yet, like his evil Genius, I pursue him,
13
And now th'Embassadors from Tuscany,
Pursuant to the Advice I sent that Duke,
Bring with them Propositions for a Marriage,
And with unweary'd Diligence attend
And watch those Steps which bring his Ruin on,
Between that Prince and Leonora.
To Day they have their Audience of the King;
Methinks it suits my Purpose well:
But see, the King appears.
Enter King.
King.
Where art thou hid, Antenor?
When most I want thee, thou dost shun me most;
I like it not.
Ant.
What would my gracious Lord?
King.
Thou hast convey'd a Sting into my Breast,
Which still, the more I labour to draw forth,
With double Anguish deeper points its Way.
What dost thou know, that has so greatly mov'd thee
T'instil the subtil Poyson of Distrust,
And stir my Nature up against my Child?
Ant.
If my incessant Duty, careful Fears,
Ever upon the Guard for you and Glory,
Offend my Royal Master, I am silent;
Forgive my Zeal, and I'll observe no more.
King.
I know Ambition is thy darling Sin,
'Bating that I do believe thee honest;
Then leave these doubling Arts, and speak thy Purpose,
Why dost thou sigh, and fold thy aged Arms,
Expressive Signs of some approaching Mischief,
Still warning me, in Whispers, as I pass,
To observe the Princess Leonora?
Ant.
This I have done:
But if I am too loyal, too sincere;
If Apprehension grows too swift in me,
Give up the Charge you did intrust me with,
To some more worthy of your Confidence;
Who, when they have obey'd your strict Command,
And learnt each private Motion of your Court,
14
And pass in Silence what you fear to know.
King.
Tortures and Death pierce me at once, and speak
Whate'er it be, and rid my Expectation.
Some secret Plot against my Life and Crown.
Much rather had I hear of brooding Treason,
Of raging Pestilence, or blazing Cities,
Prodigious Earthquakes, universal Ruin,
Than ought which touches Leonora's Fame.
Ant.
That I had dy'd, ere given the secret Vent;
I beg your Majesty will urge no more
This hated Subject.
King.
Urge not my Temper! no, I charge thee do not;
Thou hast rais'd my Curiosity so high,
Or give me Ease, or Racks shall force it from thee.
Ant.
What sad Distraction tears my aged Breast?
Oh! think how much the Tale will wound you, Sir,
And let me keep the fatal Secret hid.
King.
Speak, I command thee.
Ant.
Oh, my tortur'd Soul! the Princess loves—
King.
Say'st thou! ha! whom does she love?
Ant.
The fatal Secret trembles on my Tongue,
And fears to fall—Lorenzo.
King.
Ha! have a Care,
I shall not credit this too easily.
Ant.
Alas! great Sir, my Heart would dance with Joy,
Could I but doubt the wretched Truth I tell,
Which I shall ever mourn; but 'tis most certain
Her Heart and beauteous Person are bestow'd
On that selected Man—
King.
Traytor, 'tis false! I know thou hat'st Lorenzo;
The ancient Quarrel 'twixt his Blood and thine
Has made a Villain of thee—
Ant.
This I fear'd! Oh! hard Return for Loyalty.
King.
If thou dost not prove this Accusation,
Thy Head shall answer it.
Ant.
Be it as you say.
If I discover nor, near to the Bower,
A Place thro' which at Midnight he's let in;
And sure the Purpose is not hard to guess.
15
Do this, Antenor, and my Heart is thine;
My Pulse beats high, impatient of Revenge,
And Speech grows painful, choak'd with Indignation;
Down all my wild Resentments for a while,
And let me see, and judge like Majesty.
Oh! Leonora, if thou'rt fall'n so low,
To hold thy nightly Revels with my Slave,
There's not a Rack thy Crimes can make me feel,
But I will double it upon you both:
Ling'ring, unheard of Torments you shall prove,
And curse the fatal Sweets of guilty Love.
[Exeunt.
The End of the First ACT.
| The Cruel Gift | |