University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Vendosme, Villeroy, Rosny.
Vend.
Look back, ye sage Recorders of past Times,
On all your mouldy Chronicles of Fame,
On States that flourish'd Ages far remote,
And Kings that govern'd Empires now in Dust;
Search your vast Annals o'er, and blush to find,
Of all your boasted fav'rite Chiefs of old,
No Parallel to Henry: Henry, the World's Wonder,
The Star that gilds the Gallick Sky, the Dread
Of other Climes, and Glory of his own.

Vill.
Worthily nam'd The Great: in every Work,
The Duty of a King, this Monarch bears
The just Pre-eminence, still standing forth
In Godlike Action first, whether in Arms
Furious he rushes to the Front of Battle,
And chains obedient Conquest to his Sword;
Or on his happy Subjects largely showers
The milder Trophies of a peaceful Reign.

Rosny.
Yet are there those, those Venom of a State,
Church-Vipers, ever sure to spite the Best,
Who strike at his Prerogative, and dare
Suggest ill Notions to the cheated Croud,
Insinuate, Heresy takes growth too fast,
Favour'd by Henry, and the few Remains
Of extirpated Hugonots. Oh Heaven!
Where would this restless Arbitrary Crew
Of Soul-enslaving Hypocrites drive on
Their bloody Tyrant-Principles of Faith?
What glorious Victims of poor martyr'd Reason,
Would these ambitious pious Butchers pay
To Superstition, Ignorance, and Pride,
Were there not some in Power, ay some endu'd
With freeborn Souls, and charitable Hearts,
That durst so well employ the Godlike Trust,
As to prescribe these Gownmen proper Bounds,
And curb the holy persecuting Spirit?

Vend.
Well hast thou touch'd, Rosny, the Curse of Nations,
And the severer Malady of France.
E'en thro the Heart and Bowels of our Kingdom,
The spreading Poison works its furious way:
With Grief of Heart, the Royal Henry sees,
Amidst the Height of Triumphs and Rejoicings,
For Wars, concluded at the Victor's Terms,
And Peace, the sweet Results of past Success,
His poison'd Subjects dwindling from his side,
And Pulpits bellowing Venerable Lyes
Against the Power that conquer'd to protect them.

Vill.
Nor stops their Malice there, nor rest the Priests
Content to wound him in his Publick State;
But in the more retired Scenes of Life,
In private Jarrings and domestick Feuds,
The chief Contrivers and Fomenters They.
Basely to irritate the jealous Queen,
His every Action is set forth to light
With false Remarks, and aggravated Blackness;
His Gallantries, his Loves, or slight Intrigues,
Bear the worst Comment Envy's curst Invention
Can brand the Royal Name with, vilely term'd
Debaucheries and Lust.

Rosny.
'Tis true, he bears
A Breast, that steel'd to every Wound beside,
To Love and Beauty's earliest Summons yields:
But yet, tho for a while he gives a loose
To each rebellious Faculty of Love,
He can at will retract the slacken'd Reins,
Mount from the downy Joy to Empire's Height,
And bravely summon back the Monarch's Soul;
As if he made those Passions serve as Shades,
To set the nobler Actions of his Life
Out to a fuller Light, and shew Mankind,
That as he rules the Tributary Globe,
With equal Power of Soul he rules himself.
But see the haughty Prelate, and the Pope's
Remarking Nuntio; this way they seem bent:
Let us avoid their Church-Dissimulation.

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