University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Prince of Conde and Rosine.
Prince.
This was the Day, Rosine, the wish'd-for Day
My greedy Soul had treasur'd up so long,
And in contracting Fancy half possest,
To blot out every blacker Hour of Life,
And pay with double Interest of Joys,
Courtship's dull Toils, and Expectation's Pangs;
The Day is now arriv'd, but how unlike
That Day deceiv'd Imagination form'd!
Charlotta too is mine, and yet not mine;
Oh jealous Grudgings of a love-sick Mind!
What tho her Hand, her Father, and the Priest
Confirm'd her mine by Law, the stronger Law,
Of Inclination disannuls the Tie,
And still with-holds her Heart.

Rosine.
Have you remark'd
Aught of substantial Sorrow, aught beyond
Th'affected Scruples of a bridal Qualm?

Prince.
Too many damn'd convincing shocking Proofs
Of a displeas'd, an alienated Heart,
This day have I receiv'd; for e'en but now,
As at the Altar, side by side, we stood,
To hear the Marriage-Ceremonies read;
When as the Priest advanc'd to join us one,
A sudden Trance surpriz'd the swooning Maid,
A livid Pale those Cheeks that ought to shew
The glowing Beauties of a wishing Bride;
Her Hand, her Heart, and every Member spoke
A strong Reluctance to the hated Act.

Rosine.
There must be then some more than common Cause
To you unknown, that works her Passions thus;
Perhaps her Soul (but let not me suggest
The dangerous Thought) might be engag'd before.

Prince.
I would not have this Jealousy take root,
And want the Confirmation; of the two,
Both Rocks to Peace, and Curses of the Mind,
The Knowledge, or Suspicion of a Wrong,
The Knowledge is the least; and here a Wrong,
As much I doubt there is, strikes deep indeed:
But since to live in doubt, is to go thro
A direful Load of complicated Tortures,
To scorch in Flames, to grind upon the Wheel,
And to be flea'd with Strokes of Iron Rods,
Oh all-discerning Heaven! if Mercy be
The glorious reigning Attribute above,
Solve me this Riddle and explain my Fate.

Rosine.
Then as a Man, support what I reveal;
Thus hear your Doubts explain'd: and long e'er now
Had I with zealous Duty told you all,
And stopt those sad Events that may ensue,
If sooner I had known the fatal Truth.
Charlotta is the King's, at least her Heart;
This very Hour I heard it from Alicia,
The Cabinet of all her inmost Counsels,
Whom for your surer Service have I won
By a pretended Courtship, to disclose
The Secrets of her House.

Prince.
Rosine, I thank thee;
Now thou hast made me what I wish'd to be,
Rather than starve in doubt, a knowing Wretch;
I know the Wound,—but who can know the Cure?
Here is indeed a Plot concerted well
Against my Faith, my Honour and my Peace,
The King, Charlotta, and her Father too,
All, all Confederates: is't not so, Rosine?

Rosine.
The King, no doubt, is ignorant of your Marriage,
As Montmorency may perhaps be still
Of the King's Passion, or his Daughter's Guilt.

Prince.
No, Montmorency knew the curs'd Intrigue,
And chose out me an Instrument to skreen
His House's Scandal, and his Daughter's Shame:
Was this his Reason? nay, he counsell'd well,
Our Marriage might be solemnized thus
I'th' dark, and secret from the Eye of Light.
Now as I doubt not but the precious Sin
Has been repeated o'er and o'er again,
The amorous Monarch now may revel free,
And feast on Beauties at another's Cost.

Rosine.
You carry your Suspicions on too far,
To your own Torture only, having yet
No Confirmation of the King's Success,
Aught farther than his Hope.

Prince.
I never yet,
'Tis true, surpriz'd them in the very Fact;
But if our Thought can see, or Reason judge,
I have sufficient Proof to make me mad:
Shall I sit then thus patient with Disgrace,
And like a tame believing doting Husband,
Caress a faithless Beauty in my Arms,
Who in the Height and Fury of Enjoyment,
Shall in her own lascivious absent Thoughts
Bestow her lavish Raptures on another?

Rosine.
My Lord, my Lord—

Prince.
Nay, do not interrupt me now,
When I would give my Madness all its Reins;
Patience, my Soul disdains its Stoick Maxim,
The Coward's Virtue, and the Knave's Disguise:
Oh Vengeance take me all, I'm wholly thine.
Let those suspend Revenge, and bury Wrongs,
Whose frozen Souls unapt for nobler Views,
Can live on distant Hopes, and pause o'er Mischief;
Let those be mute, whose Bliss is Ignorance,
By Priestcraft preach'd into a foolish Virtue,
And patient' cause they know not when they're injur'd.

Rosine.
Would you have Justice? calmly then resolve
Upon the Means that will effect it best,
Nor hurry rashly on you know not what;
First judge, then execute.

Prince.
Let Fools contrive,
And coward Statesmen weary the long Nights
In planning Dangers that they dare not face,
And gain Applause from dilatory Counsels;
The Great but think of Glory or Revenge,
And make them both their own: Yes, yes, Rosine,
With open Heart I hug the mighty Thought.

Rosine.
I must attend him nearly, to prevent
Whate'er his Fury rashly may attempt.

[Aside.
Prince.
Since they have rais'd this Monster in my Breast,
I'll give its Range to the destructive Guest;
Let its resenting growling Rage go on,
Themselves the Cause, the Danger be their own.

[Exeunt.