University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

The King, Villeroy, Rosny, and other Courtiers.
[The King and Villeroy as talking together.]
King.
Both fled Post speed from Paris! By my Crown,
If yet thro' ev'ry Station I have born,
Or in the Council-Chamber, or the Camp,
My Soul may make this Boast, To have ever stood
Above the weak Assaults of a Surprize;
As freely will I own, This News, Villeroy,
Bore down my Guard, broke on me with a Shock
As strong as unexpected.

Vill.
'Tis indeed
The Cause of general Wonder, whence they took
This sudden strange Resolve, nor left behind
Their Grievances, or Reason for their Flight.

King.
From this was our Surprize; for know, Villeroy,
That common Notion in the World, call'd Fear,
That Curse of Villains, Hypocrites, and Slaves,
Henry disdains to be acquainted with.
If, as it seems, they're false, and dare revolt
From their Allegiance to my Crown and Me,
I know the Pow'r and Duty of a King,
And dare chastize the Treason and the Traitor.
Have you no Notice of the Rout they took?

Vill.
None in the least as yet.

King.
I do suppose
That their Intents are (for they must be ill)
To spirit up the Hugonots to Arms:
Send out for sure Intelligence; till then
Our Measures of Pursuit must be deferr'd.

Vend.
Should they but make, (as Heav'n forefend they should)
The least Attempt against their Country's Peace,
Your Majesty stands safe, Your Coffers full,
A strong and loyal Army at Command,
To check Rebellion in its Infant Rise:
They only sink their Party and themselves.

King.
Vendosme, I tell thee, That I rather grieve,
That they should forfeit their Allegiance thus,
Than with the least alarm from their Designs.
When Justice arms our Cause, to doubt Success,
Is to distrust that Providence, that holds
The Balance of the World, and weighs Events
In golden Equity's unerring Scales.
But why? why now, my Schemes when almost ripe,
My Levies full, and general Treaties form'd,
With half the leagued World's confederate Arms,
To propagate the Christian Cause, and lop
The vast Expanse of Pow'r, the o'er-grown Bulk
Of the incroaching Ottoman: Why now
Must I decline the Enterprize, against
My own unnatural Subjects turn my Force?
These are thy Toils, O Pow'r! and these the Cares
That reach the Monarch, and embitter Empire.
My Friends retire; thus ruffled, thus fatigu'd,
My Mind requires a while to be alone.

[The Courtiers go out.
King, solus.
King.
Said I Alone? Alone I cannot be;
My busie Thoughts, that hurry up and down,
And travel thro' Varieties of Woe,
Are Company too much. I am a King!
I know it well! no fuller Proof I need,
Than the superior Burthen that's assign'd me.
Two Factions discontented with my Reign,
Both Hugonots and Catholicks my Foes.
But see! support me, Ever-watchful Powers,
That make the Guardianship of Kings Your Care!
A far more dreaded Foe to Henry's Peace,
Than Catholick, or Hugonot, comes here.

Enter Charlotta.
Cha.
Your Pardon, gracious Monarch! for a Wretch,
That dares this un-allow'd Intrusion here:
Nor had I now presum'd it, but my Griefs,
Such Griefs as have a Privilege to Boldness,
To Orders deaf, or by Respect unaw'd,
Oblig'd me to the melancholy Duty,
To open to Your Soul a Scene of Woe,
(Wretch that I am, so long to have conceal'd it!)
That equally concerns Your Self as me.
O that my falt'ring Tongue might be excus'd
Th'ungrateful Subject, and my Tears unfold
In dumb expressive Eloquence, my Heart!

King.
Now by my Love, this Prelude of thy Tale,
Has quite unstring'd my Nerves of Resolution;
Unconscious of ought Ill, I shudder yet
With Apprehension from I know not what.
But rid me of this Misery of Doubt,
And if I must be tortur'd, let it be
From certain Dangers, and a real Cause.

Char.
Then look upon Charlotta, know from her
The threatning Danger points at Henry's Head.

King.
From her already have I suffer'd all
The fatal Insults of a cruel Beauty;
My sharpest Agonies of prostrate Love,
My Vows, my Proffers, Promises, and Prayers,
Repuls'd with Pride, and thwarted with Disdain:
And are there, barb'rous Fair! more Tortures still
To plague this Royal Wretch, this Love-sick King?

Ch.
Why, cruel Fate! and thou, more cruel King!
Why did You first pursue this lawless Flame?
Why form such Vows, or press such loose Desires,
Which conscious to Your self, it stood not just
For Virtue to receive, or me to hear!
Attend the sad Events;—Charlotta comes
A mournful Herald of the threatned Vengeance.
Why did You seek to alienate my Heart,
And meanly plot on her that was Another's?
What have my Griefs discover'd? and to whom?
Upon my Knees I ask Your Royal Pardon:
Forgive the Heat of this ill-manner'd Frenzy;
I am the only Guilty, I, who heard
Your Vows, with too, too gentle a Repulse!
I am the Trait'ress, who foresaw the Fate
Your furious Passion drove on, yet was slow
To warn You timely of the hidden Shelve.
On me, Ye Pow'rs! Your gather'd Vengeance fall!
As was the Crime, the Punishment be mine!

K.
Still dost thou lead me thro' a Maze of Doubt,
My Passions all alarm'd, and Thoughts as dark
As the benighted Traveller's, whose Mind
Strays into Horrors, and starts back from Shadows.
Thou hast indeed prepar'd me for the worst
That Fate can menace, or thy Griefs forebode.
Solve me this Knot, and utter forth thy Soul:
Yet is there one unhappy Article,
I would advise thee friendly to omit:
Sure, or my Apprehension ran too far,
And brought me false Reports, thou saidst, Charlotta,
But pray unsay that part,—thou wert Another's.

Char.
It is so true, that to deny it now,
Would be but basely to deceive You on:
It is as true, as that Charlotta's doom'd
The most abandon'd, miserable Woman,
That ever yet was sentenc'd, barter'd, sold
To an unequal Match, and hated Bed:
As true, as that the Prince of Conde is ------

King.
Whirlwinds and Thunder drown thy direful News!

Ch.
That fiery, vengeful, surly, jealous—Husband,
Who grown suspicious on our Wedding-Day,
Lay lurking for Intelligence, and mark'd,
With a severe Construction, when You last
Came to enhance our mutual Miseries,
And sigh forth Your unhappy, fatal Passion.
To him, by my stern Father's dire Command,
Was I oblig'd to yield my Virgin Hand;
And thus am I requited! He it is,
That threatens Desolation and Revenge.

K.
Distraction! this was that one dang'rous Secret,
That my distrusting Thoughts declin'd to search.

Char.
Hah! does a Monarch tremble! Well may I,
A poor defenceless Woman, give a Loose
To every rising Break of frantick Horror.
Thus given up to Scandal's busie Tongue,
Unjust Reflections, or malicious Pity,
My Virtue murther'd, and my Honour stab'd;
Are They then lost, and shall My Self survive?
No! 'tis a Thought below my Sex, or Me;
I scorn to live disgrac'd, and dare be free;
Rather to other Worlds for Refuge go,
That Aid, I found not here, to seek below:
Let all their thousand several Tortures glare,
'Twill be a Variation of Despair,
And can't exceed my own;—I'll venture there.
[Exit Charl.

The King, solus.
King.
If, as Philosophy lays down the Maxim,
The real Greatness of a human Soul,
Must, e'er its Value's known, be try'd like Gold,
Purg'd of its Dross, prov'd Standard by the Furnace
Of deep Afflictions, and refin'd by Fire;
Who can support the Trial? He who dares,
(Spite of these rigid Rules of learned Dotage)
Throws of his Being, and is more than Man.
The Prince of Conde!—Sink, Heart-racking Subject!—
That Name has rais'd a Wild-fire in my Breast,
And set me on a Blaze; reviv'd such Thoughts,
As I would give my Empire to elude.


Before mistaken Pride let Glories fly;
Let Splendors glitter to the flatter'd Eye;
Let, with a greedy Hand, the Wretch in State
Grasp the false Bounties of delusive Fate;
Survey, with brutal Joy, or wanton Ease,
The Spoils of War, or Luxuries of Peace.
He, he is blest, (O were that Blessing here!)
Whose Thoughts are one pure Calm, and Conscience clear.
Unclogg'd, he soars above the Reach of Woe,
And looks with Pity on the World below.

[Exit.