University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Scene a Grotto, Henry asleep, a Cloud descends, in it two Angels suppos'd to be the Guardian Spirits of the British Kings in War and in Peace.
1 Ang.
Behold th'unhappy Monarch there,
That claims our Tutelary Care!

2 Ang.
In Fields of Death around his Head
A Shield of Adamant I spread.

1 Ang.
In Hours of Peace unseen, unknown,
I hover o'er the British Throne.

2 Ang.
When Hosts of Foes with Foes engage
And round th'anointed Heroe rage,
The cleaving Fauchion I misguide
And turn the feather'd Shaft aside.

1 Ang.
When dark fermenting Factions swell,
And prompt th'Ambitious to rebel,
A thousand Terrors I impart,
And damp the furious Traitor's Heart.

Both.
But O what Influence can remove
The Pangs of Grief, and Rage of Love!

2. Ang.
I'll fire his Soul with mighty Themes
'Till Love before Ambition fly.

1 Ang.
I'll sooth his Cares in pleasing Dreams
'Till Grief in joyfull Raptures die.

2 Ang.
Whatever glorious and renown'd
In British Annals can be found;
Whatever Actions shall adorn
Britannia's Heroes yet unborn
In dreadful Visions shall succeed;
On fancy'd Fields the Gaul shall bleed,
Cressy shall stand before his Eyes,
And Agincourt and Blenheim rise.

1 Ang.
See, see, he smiles amidst his Trance,
And shakes a visionary Lance,
His Brain is fill'd with loud Alarms,
Shouting Armies, clashing Arms,
The softer Prints of Love deface;
And Trumpets sound in ev'ry Trace.

Both.
Glory strives.
The Field is won,
Fame revives
And Love is gone.

1 Ang.
To calm thy Grief and lull thy Cares,
Look up and see
What, after long revolving Years,
Thy Bow'r shall be!
When Time its Beauties shall deface,
And only with its Ruins grace
The future Prospect of the Place.
Behold the glorious Pile ascending!
Scene changes to the Plan of Blenhelm Castle.
Columns swelling, Arches bending,
Domes in awful Pomp arising,
Art in curious Strokes surprizing,
Foes in figur'd Fights contending,
Behold the glorious Pile ascending!

2 Ang.
He sees, he sees the great Reward
For Anna's mighty Chief prepar'd:
His growing Joys no Measure keep,
Too vehement and fierce for Sleep.

1 Ang.
Let Grief and Love at once engage,
His Heart is Proof to all their Pain;
Love may plead—

2 Ang.
—And Grief may rage—

Both.
But both shall plead and rage in vain.

[The Angels ascend, and the Vision disappears.
Henry
starting from the Couch.
Where have my ravish'd Senses been!
What Joys, what Wonders have I seen!
The Scene yet stands before my Eye:
A thousand glorious Deeds that lye
In deep Futurity obscure,
Fights and Triumphs Immature,
Heroes immers'd in Time's dark Womb,
Ripening for mighty Years to come,
Break forth, and to the Day display'd,
My soft inglorious Hours upbraid.
Transported with so bright a Scheme
My Waking Life appears a Dream.
O Rosamond! O rising Woe!
Why do my weeping Eyes o'erflow?
O Rosamond! O fair distress'd!
How shall my Heart, with Grief oppress'd,
Its unrelenting Purpose tell;
And take the long, the last Farewel!

[Exit.
SCENE changes to that Part of the Bow'r where Sir Trusty lies upon the Ground, with the Bowl and Dagger on the Table.
Enter Queen.
Ev'ry Star, and ev'ry Pow'r,
Look down on this important Hour:
Lend your Protection and Defence
Ev'ry Guard of Innocence!
Help me my Henry to asswage,
To gain his Love, or bear his Rage.
But oh the Sight my Soul alarms:
My Lord appears, I'm all on Fire!
Why am I banish'd from his Arms?
[Retires to the End of the Stage.
My Heart's too full, I must retire

Enter King.
Some dreadful Birth of Fate is near:
Or why, my Soul, unus'd to fear
With secret Horror dost thou shake?
Can Dreams such dire Impressions make!
What means this solemn silent Show?
This Pomp of Death, this Scene of Woe!
Support me, Heav'n! What's this I read?
O Horror! Rosamond is dead.
What shall I say, or whither turn?
With Grief, and Rage, and Love, I burn:
From Thought to Thought my Soul is toss'd,
And in the Whirle of Passion lost.
Why did I not in Battle fall,
Crush'd with the Thunder of the Gaul?
Why did the Spear my Bosom miss?
Ye Pow'rs, was I reserv'd for this!

Queen.
Fain wou'd my Tongue his Heart appease,
And give his raging Tortures Ease.

[Aside.
King.
But see! the Cause of all my Fears,
The Source of all my Grief appears!
No unexpected Guest is here;
The fatal Bowl
Inform'd my Soul
Eleonora was too near.

Queen.
Why do I here my Lord receive?

King.
Is this the Welcome that you give?

Queen.
Thus shou'd divided Lovers meet?

Both.
And is it thus, ah! thus we greet!

Queen.
What in these guilty Shades cou'd you,
Inglorious Conqueror, pursue?

King.
Cruel Woman, what cou'd you?

Queen.
Degen'rate Thoughts have fir'd your Breast.

King.
The Thirst of Blood has yours possess'd,

Queen.
A Heart so unrepenting,

King.
A Rage so unrelenting,

Both.
Will for ever
Love diffever,
Will for ever break our Rest.

King.
Floods of Sorrow will I shed
To mourn the Lovely Shade!
My Rosamond, alas, is dead,
And where, O where convey'd!

Queen.
How is his Heart with Anguish torn!
[Aside
My Lord, I cannot see you Mourn,
The Living you lament: While I
To be lamented so cou'd Die.

King.
The Living! speak, oh speak again!
Why will you dally with my Pain?

Queen.
Were your lov'd Rosamond alive
Wou'd not my former Wrongs revive?

King.
Oh no, by Visions from above,
Prepar'd for Grief, and freed from Love,
I came to take my last Adieu,

Queen.
How am I bless'd if this be true!—

[Aside.
King.
And leave th'unhappy Nymph for you.
But O!—

Queen.

King.
O quickly relate
This Riddle of Fate!
My Impatience forgive,
Does Rosamond live?

Queen.
The Bowl, with drowsie Juices fill'd,
From cold Egyptian Drugs distill'd,
In borrow'd Death has clos'd her Eyes:
But soon the waking Nymph shall rise,
And, in a Convent plac'd, admire
The Cloister'd Walls, and Virgin Quire,
With them in Songs and Hymns divine
The beauteous Penitent shall join,
And bid the guilty World Adieu,

King.
How am I blest if this be true!—

[Aside.
Queen.
A toning for her self and you.

King.
I ask no more! Secure the Fair
In Life and Bliss: I ask not where:
For ever from my Fancy fled
May the whole World believe her dead,
That no foul Minister of Vice
Again my sinking Soul intice
Its broken Passion to renew,
But let me live and die with you.

Queen.

King.
O happy Day! O pleasing View!
My Queen forgives—

Queen.
—My Lord is true.

King.
No more I'll change,

Queen.
No more I'll grieve,

Both.
But ever thus united live.

Sir Trusty
awaking.
In which World am I! all I see,
Ev'ry Thicket, Bush and Tree,
So like the Place from whence I came,
That one wou'd swear it were the same.
My former Legs too, by their Pace!
And by the Whiskers, 'tis my Face!
The self-same Habit, Garb, and Mien!
They ne'er wou'd bury me in Green.

Enter Grideline.
Grid.
Have I then liv'd to see this Hour,
And took thee in the very Bow'r?

Sir Tr.
Widow Trusty, why so fine?
Why dost thou thus in Colours shine?
Thou shou'dst thy Husband's Death bewail
In sable Vesture, Peak and Veil.

Grid.
Forbear these foolish Freaks, and see
How our good King and Queen agree.
Why shou'd not we their Steps pursue
And do as our Superiors do?

Sir Tr.
Am I bewitch'd, or do I dream?
I know not who, or where I am,
Or what I hear, or what I see,
But this I'm sure, howe'er it be,
It suits a Person in my Station
T'observe the Mode, and be in Fashion.
Then let not Grideline the Chast
Offended be for what is past,
And hence anew my Vows I plight
To be a faithful courteous Knight.

Grid.
I'll too my plighted Vows renew,
Since 'tis so courtly to be true.

Sir Tr.
And Sir Trusty shall be thy Adonis.

The King and Queen advancing.
King.
Who to forbidden Joys wou'd rove,
That knows the Sweets of virtuous Love?
Hymen, thou Source of chast Delights,
Chearful Days, and blissful Nights,
Thou dost untainted Joys dispence,
And Pleasure join with Innocence,
Thy Raptures last, and are sincere
From future Grief and present Fear.

Both.
Who to forbidden Joys wou'd rove,
That knows the Sweets of virtuous Love.