 | King Charles the First |  |
SCENE, A Chamber.
King CHARLES discover'd reading.
KING.
What art thou, Life, so dearly lov'd by all?—
What are thy Charms, that thus the Great desire thee,
And to retain thee part with Pomp and Titles?
To buy thy Presence, the Gold-watching Miser
Will pour his Bags of mouldy Treasure out,
And grow at once a Prodigal. The Wretch
Clad with Disease and Poverty's thin Coat,
Yet holds thee fast, tho' painful Company.
O Life! thou universal Wish; what art thou?—
Thou'rt but a Day—a few uneasy Hours:
Thy Morn is greeted by the Flocks and Herds,
And every Bird that flatters with its Note,
Salutes thy rising Sun; Thy Noon approaching,
Then haste the Flies and every creeping Insect
To bask in thy Meridian; that declining
As quickly they depart, and leave thy Evening
To mourn the absent Ray: Night at hand,
Then croaks the Raven Conscience, Time mispent;
The Owl Despair screams hideous, and the Bat
Confusion flutters up and down—
Life's but a lengthen'd Day not worth the waking for.
Enter the QUEEN.
My dearest Queen!
I have been summing up th'Amount of Life,
But found no Value in it, 'till you came.
QUEEN.
Do not perplex yourself with Thoughts like those:
Ill Fortune at the worst, returns to better,
At least we think so, as it grows familiar.
KING.
No, I was only arming for the worst.
I have try'd the Temper of my inmost Soul,
And find it ready now for all Encounters:
Death cannot shake it.
QUEEN.
Do not talk of Death:
The Apprehension shakes my tender Heart;
Ages of Love, I hope, are yet to come,
Ere that black Hour arrives: Such chilling Thoughts
Disgrace the Lodging of that noble Breast.
KING.
What have I not to fear? Thus close confin'd;
To-morrow forc'd to Trial. Will those Men,
Who insolently drag me to the Bar,
Stop in the middle of their Purpose? No.
I must prepare for all Extremities:
And (be that Pow'r ador'd, that lends me Comfort)
I fell I am—Oh, do not weep, my Queen;
Rather rejoice with me, to find my Thoughts
Outstretch the painful Verge of humane Life,
And have no Wish on Earth—but thee! 'tis there
Indeed I feel: Peace and Resignation
Had wander'd o'er the Rooms of ev'ry Thought,
To shut Misfortune out, but left this Door
Unclos'd, thro' which Calamity
Has enter'd in thy Shape to seize my Heart.
QUEEN.
Be more yourself, my Lord; let Majesty
Take root within thy Heart, nor meanly bend
Before ill Fortune's Blast.
KING.
O doubt me not!
'Tis only on the Side where you are plac'd,
That I can know a Fear. For Charles's self,
Let fierce Encounter with the Sword of Danger
Bring him to bloodiest Proof; and if he shrinks
Despise him. Here, I glory in my Weakness.
He is no Man whom Tenderness not melts,
And Love so soft as thine. Let us go in.
And if kind Heav'n designs me longer Stay
On this frail Earth, I shall be only pleas'd,
Because I have thy Presence here to crown me.
But if it destines my immediate End;
(Hard as it is, my Queen, to part with thee)
I say, farewel, and to the Blow resign,
That strikes me here—to make me more divine.
King CHARLES discover'd reading.
KING.
What art thou, Life, so dearly lov'd by all?—
What are thy Charms, that thus the Great desire thee,
And to retain thee part with Pomp and Titles?
To buy thy Presence, the Gold-watching Miser
Will pour his Bags of mouldy Treasure out,
And grow at once a Prodigal. The Wretch
Clad with Disease and Poverty's thin Coat,
Yet holds thee fast, tho' painful Company.
O Life! thou universal Wish; what art thou?—
Thou'rt but a Day—a few uneasy Hours:
Thy Morn is greeted by the Flocks and Herds,
And every Bird that flatters with its Note,
Salutes thy rising Sun; Thy Noon approaching,
Then haste the Flies and every creeping Insect
To bask in thy Meridian; that declining
20
To mourn the absent Ray: Night at hand,
Then croaks the Raven Conscience, Time mispent;
The Owl Despair screams hideous, and the Bat
Confusion flutters up and down—
Life's but a lengthen'd Day not worth the waking for.
Enter the QUEEN.
My dearest Queen!
I have been summing up th'Amount of Life,
But found no Value in it, 'till you came.
QUEEN.
Do not perplex yourself with Thoughts like those:
Ill Fortune at the worst, returns to better,
At least we think so, as it grows familiar.
KING.
No, I was only arming for the worst.
I have try'd the Temper of my inmost Soul,
And find it ready now for all Encounters:
Death cannot shake it.
QUEEN.
Do not talk of Death:
The Apprehension shakes my tender Heart;
Ages of Love, I hope, are yet to come,
Ere that black Hour arrives: Such chilling Thoughts
Disgrace the Lodging of that noble Breast.
KING.
What have I not to fear? Thus close confin'd;
To-morrow forc'd to Trial. Will those Men,
Who insolently drag me to the Bar,
Stop in the middle of their Purpose? No.
I must prepare for all Extremities:
And (be that Pow'r ador'd, that lends me Comfort)
I fell I am—Oh, do not weep, my Queen;
21
Outstretch the painful Verge of humane Life,
And have no Wish on Earth—but thee! 'tis there
Indeed I feel: Peace and Resignation
Had wander'd o'er the Rooms of ev'ry Thought,
To shut Misfortune out, but left this Door
Unclos'd, thro' which Calamity
Has enter'd in thy Shape to seize my Heart.
QUEEN.
Be more yourself, my Lord; let Majesty
Take root within thy Heart, nor meanly bend
Before ill Fortune's Blast.
KING.
O doubt me not!
'Tis only on the Side where you are plac'd,
That I can know a Fear. For Charles's self,
Let fierce Encounter with the Sword of Danger
Bring him to bloodiest Proof; and if he shrinks
Despise him. Here, I glory in my Weakness.
He is no Man whom Tenderness not melts,
And Love so soft as thine. Let us go in.
And if kind Heav'n designs me longer Stay
On this frail Earth, I shall be only pleas'd,
Because I have thy Presence here to crown me.
But if it destines my immediate End;
(Hard as it is, my Queen, to part with thee)
I say, farewel, and to the Blow resign,
That strikes me here—to make me more divine.
| King Charles the First | |