University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Enter Frederick, Anna, Anspach, Anhalt, Baden, and Attendants.
Anna.
Now, my dear Lord! Confess, my Fears, tho' springing
More from Excess of Love, than Strength of Judgment,
Were yet not groundless. Ermand's Death too plainly
Speaks what your Foes wou'd do, t'admit the question,
If the same Point, by which he met his Fate,
Should not have pierc'd your Breast, had Heaven permitted.

Fred.
I wish not to be lov'd by wicked Men.
Let me so act to merit the Esteem
Of those who truly walk in Honour's Paths,
And the dark Traitor sins beneath my Notice.
Wirtemberg's Discontent, indeed, alarms me;
I know him brave, and honest, and should grieve
The Loss of such a Friend.

Ansp.
'Tis said, my Lord!
That he refuses to attend your Journey
To Frankfort: Nay more, will not be present
At that august Solemnity, in which
Even Kings are proud to assist.

Fred.
It is most true:
And as my Soul reproaches me with nought,
By me committed, to excuse this Change,
Must think some Arts, contriv'd in Mischief's School,
Are practis'd on him.

Anh.
'Tis indeed most likely:
His Temper's rash, and fiery, apt to kindle
Even at the shadow of an Injury;
And often not admits his cooler Reason,
To weigh the Cause that stirs him up to Passion.

Fred.
None are so perfect, but some lurking Frailty
Steals through the nobler Mind, and petty Faults
Should be o'erlook'd, where greater Virtues shine.
He yet is young; Time may correct this Heat,
And wisdom bridle each unruly Thought:
'Till then we must forgive, and pity him.

Anna.
Oh that the too-censorious World would learn
This wholesome Rule, and with each other bear!
But Man, as if a Foe to his own Species,
Takes Pleasure to report his Neighbour's Faults,
Judging with Rigour every small Offence,
And prides himself in Scandal. Few there are
Who injur'd, take the part of the Transgressor,
And plead his Pardon e'er he deigns to ask it.

Fred.
Yet thus alone can Friendship be maintain'd:
Nor can the Virtuous from corrupted Mind,
Be more distinguish'd, than by tender Pity.
The Guilty ever are most hard to pardon:
Vice makes them stubborn, haughty, and remorsless;
And, as their Views all center in Self-love,
Soon hate what once controls that darling Passion.

Anh.
To pardon Failings, and, by innate Virtue,
Be made incapable of yielding to them,
Is the exact Resemblance of the Deity,
And only the Prerogative of Heaven
And Frederick.

Fred.
Wou'd it were so, good Anhalt!
But tho', Thanks to the Stars, which rul'd my Birth,
I am compos'd of pretty equal Elements;
Not prone to fiery Heats, nor sullen Coldness,
Draw from the Air no Fickleness of Mind,
Nor from the Earth a gloomy Discontent,
Yet am I still meer Man: And did not Reason
Curb the impetuous Will, perhaps, might fall
Beneath that Dignity. I therefore strive,
With utmost Force to keep th'unfailing Guide
Still wakeful, and presiding o'er my Actions.
'Tis a short Slumber only that has made
The noble Duke of Wirtemberg forget
What's owing to himself or me. Nor doubt I,
But he'll recover.

Anna.
I hope he will, my Lord!
For much I prize his Virtues: To that End
Have sent to speak with him: I do not think
He'll make a Secret of his Trouble to me;
And Griefs disclos'd are partly remedy'd.
Soon I expect him here.

Fred.
I'll leave thee then:
For tho' I willingly would hear his plaints,
And, with the Voice of Friendship, sooth his Soul
The Great must ever yield to Tyrant Custom;
We are the Slaves of Place, and pompous Form:
Thus many things, as Brunswick, might become me,
Which will not suit the Dignity Imperial;
And this appears to be among the Number.
For a short space, Adieu! my dearest Love!
And may thy Aim meet with desir'd Success!

[Exeunt all but Anna.
Anna.
Grant to my, Tongue, kind Heav'n! prevailing Force.
To heal this Breach; which else, methinks, presages
Some worse Event, than my dear Fred'rick's Courage
Will suffer him to apprehend.

Enter a Lady.
Lady.
Madam! Duke Wirtemberg—

Anna.
Conduct him in,
The Task is easy for me to discover
What he intends: A Stranger to Deceit,
He always wears his Meaning in his Eyes.
Enter Wirtemberg.
Welcome, good Wirtemberg, tho' it seems strange,
That we must court your Presence. I thought the Ties,
In which my Lord and you were link'd, too binding
To be by Trifles broke; and sure I am,
That, on his Part, they still are firm.

Wirtemb.
Madam!
'Tis enough. I know my Duty to the Emperor,
And shall not fail t'observe it; as for more,
He neither can, nor ought expect it from me.

Anna.
How weak a Bond is Duty, when compar'd
To the more sacred ones, which Friendship makes!
But say, my Lord! Is it no Breach of both,
To leave our Court abruptly, and refuse
Your wish'd Attendance on that solemn Day,
Which sets th'Imperial Crown on Fred'rick's Head,
And from his Foes removes all future Hope?

Wirtemb.
Madam! 'tis easy from the num'rous List
Of German Princes, to make Choice of one
To fill my vacant Place. My Thoughts, at present,
Would ill accord with Triumphs and Rejoicings;
And better is it for me to retire,
Where, undisturb'd, I may indulge a Passion,
Whose only Wish is Solitude and Silence.

Anna.
Scarce can my Heart give Credit to my Ears,
In a Report so strange, and so unwish'd:
But give us Leave, at least, to know the Cause,
Th'unhappy Cause, that has thus far transform'd
And robb'd you of yourself:

Wirtemb.
That were t'augment
The Sum of my Disquiets, and add fresh Feuel
To Flames that blaze with too much force already.
No! tho' you are a Princess of that Excellence,
As renders Disobedience a Sin, yet here
I must be guilty. Permit me, therefore,
Humbly to take Leave.

[Going.
Anna.
Stay, Prince! You must not go.
Nor will this Compliment serve as an Excuse,
For the Uncertainty you plunge me in:
I must be satisfy'd:—Nor does m'Impatience
From Woman's Curiosity arise,
But true Desire to ease your present Griefs,
If ought there be in th'Emperor's Power to do it.

Wirtemb.
How little does she think my Wrongs are her's!
Nor would I wound her Softness with the Knowledge.
[Aside.
What shall I say!

Anna.
Come, let it be my Glory
To heal this little Difference, and cement,
More firmly than before, your Loves and Interests;
I know when Recollection shall surmount
This sudden Heat, you'll be asham'd to think,
How far you've err'd, and own it by Submissions,
Which I would spare you.

Wirtemb.
Heaven give me Patience!
No, let the Guilty own they've been to blame:
My Soul is innocent; and tho' no more
These Arms shall the Imperial Banner bear!
No more this Sword be drawn in Frederick's Cause!
Nor my fond Tongue in Peace proclaim his Praise!
Yet thus provok'd, not joining with his Foes
More proves my Duty, than would heretofore,
The utmost Services my Life could pay.

Anna.
Thus to complain, and still conceal the Cause,
Has not the shew of Truth, but of Pretence,
And seems as if you feign'd a Discontent,
To veil some hidden Motive for this Treatment,
Which could not else be pardon'd.

Wirtemb.
Feign a Pretence!
If to have treasur'd up one darling Hope,
Priz'd above Health, Life, Liberty, or Fame,
And have it torn away, for ever ravish'd
From my fond bleeding Heart, by him who once
Next Heav'n I reverenc'd, is not to be wrong'd,
I own myself unjust.

Anna.
Who has thus wrong'd you?

Wirtemb.
Who but the Emperor dare?

Anna.
Explain the Manner,
Or I shall think, my Lord! you are in Councel,
With those, whose Envy seeks to blast a Glory,
They have not Nobleness of Soul to imitate.
A Character most unworthy of your Birth,
And former Actions.

Wirtemb.
For your Soul's Peace, I wish
This kind Deception ever may continue;
That you may ne'er experience the Pangs
Of slighted Love, and Tenderness abus'd:
Nor be compell'd in bitterness of Thought
To pity my Despair; But if convinc'd
How much the Woes of Love exceed the Joys
Short be your Pains, and serve but to encrease
The Triumph of your Virtue; which in Time,
May call the Wanderer back, no more to stray;
And fix his roving Heart, for ever yours.

[Exit.
Anna.
What, said he? am I awake? Oh, if a Dream
Wake me, some pang of Nature, tho' it be
The sharpest Dart, Disease has in her Quiver,
Let me feel all that Sense can bear, but rid me
Of this Soul-racking Torment, Jealousy.
Can it be possible that Frederick's false?
Can he forget what's owing to his Anna,
Or the firm Vows made at the sacred Altar?
Oh that a Tongue, accustom'd less to truth,
Had told me this! Suspence is yet less dreadful
Than such a Certainty. Forsake me not
My Guardian-Angel in this sad Necessity.
Let me act nothing to excuse his Change,
Or wrong the Duty of my Place. He comes
With such Divinity stamp'd on his Brow
As will not suffer me to think him false,
Even tho' Report by proofs should be confin'd.

Enter Frederick, Anspach, and Anhalt.
Fred.
Well, my dear Love! what of our worthy Friend?
Does he repent him? Ha! what's this I see?
Why is the Lustre of those Eyes o'ercast
With gathering Clouds, bursting in hurtful Tears!
What fawcy Grief presumes to enter here,
And prey upon thy Softness?

Anna.
The Duke, my Lord!
Persists in his Design of leaving us,
Nor has my weak Persuasions ought avail'd.
As for my Troubles, they import but little:
Permit me, therefore, free from Interruption,
To Quiet, or indulge them.

[Exit.
Fred.
Ha Anspach! Anhalt!
What can produce this wondrous Transformation?
Sure Envy from her ever-hated Cell,
Has burst and stalks in all her Pomp of Mischief,
Fomenting Discontents, and madding Jealousies
In all who enter these unhappy Walls.
Defend me, Heaven, from the accurst Infection,
And guard my loyal Friends. Is all prepar'd
For our Departure?

Ansp.
All, Sir, is ready.

Fred.
Then early as the Sun shoots forth his Beams,
To light us on our Way, we'll quit this Place;
Where Evils seem to multiply each Hour,
The Shares of Virtue, and the Plagues of Reason.

[Exeunt.
Scene changes to Waldec's Apartment.
Enter Ridolpho and Waldec.
Rid.
For ever blest be that befriending Power,
Who with the lucky Tale inspir'd thy Tongue;
Had Frederick lost an Arm, it could not more
Have maim'd his Body, than Wirtemberg his Hopes.

Wald.
Yes, I perceiv'd it stung him to the Soul;
But think you we may make no farther Use
Of this disunion? Unworthy should we prove
Of the important Trust we're honour'd with,
If we let slip the least Occasion offer'd,
For the Accomplishment. His Guards are few,
And Wirtemberg remov'd, we've little else
Than his own Arm to fear: What hinders then,
But that, accompany'd by some trusty Friends,
We fall upon him, in his Road to Frankfort.
The greater Hazard, still the greater Glory;
But I foresee no more than a brave Man
Ought not to shun.

Rid.
There's somewhat in the Thought,
That wears a Shew of Probability.
I have among my Train intrepid Souls.
Those, whose more tender Conscience I suspect,
May be dispatch'd by other Roads to Mentz,
While, with my Veterans, posted to Advantage,
I wait the sentenc'd Frederick in his Passage;
And act my Master's Will, or fall its Martyr.

Enter Adelaid behind.
Adel.
Together still! these secret Consultations
Are not on trifles. Here I may observe 'em.

[Stands to listen.
Wald.
To aid your Purpose, as in feign'd Respect,
And Duty to the Tyrant, I'll attend him;
That while your Party keeps the Guards in play,
I, with my Men may close him in the Rear,
A certain Prey for Vengeance.

Adel.
What do I hear?

Rid.
It cannot fail; but Night comes on apace.
Our Time is short, and all must be prepar'd
Before I leave the Castle; so think it fit,
You should both see, and hold Discourse with those
In whom I must confide. In my Apartment
Strait they shall be summon'd; in the mean time,
We'll farther talk on this Affair, and fix
The Scene of Frederick's soon approaching Fate.

[Exeunt.
Adelaid comes forward.
Adel.
Heaven! for 'twas thou alone, that didst direct
My Steps this way, instruct me what to do!
Now Frederick, might my Wrongs have ample Vengeance,
And Blood be Recompence for Tears; but Oh!
To have thee fall, Victim of vile Deceit,
And barbarous Treachery, would ill accord
With Justice, or the Softness of my Sex.
Why do I know it then, but to prevent?
I'm else Accomplice in the horrid Deed,
A Traitress, and a Murdress! yet 'tis hard
That to be innocent, I must accuse,
Perhaps, resign to Death an only Brother.
Is there no Means t'avoid the sad Extreme,
And shield them both from Fate? let me consider!

Enter Wirtemberg.
Wirtemb.
Still pensive, and with Eyes cast down to Earth,
Suits not the Triumph of victorious Beauty.
Leave to the Maid, who destitute of Charms,
Justly despairs of Love, this anxious Air.
You cannot doubt but the same conquering Spells,
Which made you first ador'd, will keep you so.

Adel.
Ha, Prince! The Meaning of this Interruption,
Or these Reproaches? Little Cause, methinks,
I give you to suspect I pride myself
In your Addresses, tho' more humbly offer'd.

Wirtemb.
No, not in mine. Far be it from my Thoughts.
You like the Bird of Jove, sublimely tour
To Heights my humble Pinions cannot reach:
And scorn to stoop to a less Lure than Majesty!
Imperial Majesty! an Emperor's Heart,
Can only merit Adelaid's Acceptance.
Nay, blush not, Madam! 'Tis given to Charms like yours,
To triumph o'er Religion, and the Laws;
Render the Ties of Love and Marriage void;
Divide the Hero from his Hope of Glory,
And make the Peace of an abandon'd Wife,
The Victim of your Eyes.

Adel.
Unheard of Insolence!—
Some sudden Frenzy sure has seiz'd your Brain,
And banish'd Reason. Know injurious Prince!
My Blushes are not the Effect of Guilt,
But just Resentment. Where's the Villain dare
Traduce my Fame.

Wirtemb.
If such a one there is,
Grant me, kind Heaven, to know him; tho' I rang'd
The utmost Limits of the spacious Earth,
He should not 'scape my Fury. Yes, Adelaid!
Tho' cruel, still you're so much rooted here,
To prove you innocent I would forego
Whatever is most precious to my Soul,
And die with Pleasure, not asham'd t'avow
I dy'd your Lover.

Adel.
For Love unvoluntary
Small Thanks are due; nor will this seeming Kindness
Attone for the rude Crime, which wild Despair
Has made you guilty of. See me no more!
Nor think your good Opinion of such Moment,
That I, to purchase it, will break thro' all
The firm Resolves I've made never to wed.
This Jealousy but heightens my Contempt
Of the whole Race of your impatient Sex.

Wirtemb.
'Tis well, imperious Maid! 'tis wondrous well;
Yes, I confess that I deserve this Treatment.
Why are we stil'd the Lords of the Creation,
Why with superior Fortitude endow'd,
But to subdue th'Efforts of soft'ning Folly?
And he who sinks beneath his Sex's Charter,
Justly becomes your scorn. Adieu, for ever;
In Absence shall the fond Disease find Cure,
Or Death conclude at once my Love and my Despair.

[Exit.
Adel.
By what uncommon Ways does Fate perplex me!
The only Secret of my Life reveal'd,
Branded with foul Dishonour, and expos'd
To Insults from the Man, who once ador'd me!
But these are trifling Woes, when I reflect
On Waldec's purpos'd Crime. T'avert the Deed
Yet save the Offender's Life, instruct me Heaven!
Since for myself all Miseries are decreed,
Grant that for other's Good I may succeed.