University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

SCENE A Court Hall.
Enter De Sale, and Piracquo.
Pir.

Sedition is on Foot, my Boy; the Fruit is just ready to
gather, there's a new Model of Government making
up in every Shop.

D. Sale.

I am glad to hear it, Piracquo—'tis difficult indeed
to breed Faction in a Country, where there is no Religion for
a Pretence.

Pir.

And where Mony is a Drug; for here our Gold, like a
fine Woman, has lost half its Value by being common.

D. Sale.

'Tis a Master-piece of Policy to raise the Devil
without a Bribe or a Masque, without Mony or Hypocrisie, nay
without any Pretence of evil Government, against a Captain too
I thought they doated on.

Pir.

They are us'd to a Storm, and are sick in a Calm; the
Courage of the People, like a high mettal'd Horse, must be rid
down by continual Exercise, or he throws his Rider; give 'em
Action and you are safe.

D. Sale.

If I do mount the Head-strong Multitude, they
shall level Mountains, and lave Seas, ere they want Employmett:
But who of any Weight have you brought over to our
Enterprize?

Pir.

Chicane, Jollyboy, and Tulip, three of his Ministerial
Fools; for he has always chose Men of moderate Sense to serve
him, because he wou'd have their Understandings, he says, all
passive, and like the Limbs of the natural Body take their Directions
implicity from him their Head.

D. Sale.

But he shall find we'll chuse another Head to his
Body Politick; well, and were the Fools difficult to be prevail'd
on?

Pir.

No, I gain'd on 'em by indulging their darling Passions. I
affirm'd to Chicane, and prov'd by Sophistry, that Arviragus
was an Usurper, and rul'd contrary to Law; he believ'd me,
and cited Statutes made in old England to prove it.

D. Sale.

But how did you draw in Jollyboy and Tulip?

Pir.

Why Sir Gawdy was satisfy'd 'twas the last new Fashion,
and Jollyboy is so perfectly good-humour'd he cou'd deny his
Friend nothing; but Tulip has another Reason, he fetches such
deep Sighs for the Princess, you wou'd think his Lungs grew
in the Bottom of his Belly—He groans and sings (Love has
no Power.) Indeed the common Rabble are generally disturb'd
about this Declaration the Tyrant has publish'd, obliging 'em
to take Wives by such a Day—Oh they roar out most
musically against Arbitrary Power—But what think you,
shou'd not Aranes be sounded, he is a Youth of Spirit, and
hates, ay, and with Reason hates Arviragus.

D. Sale.

No, by no Means—a puling Lover in an Enterprize
of Fire—I think I shall provide for him otherwise—
Lovers and Madmen are govern'd by Fancy; a slippery
Basis to support Action—Well, I have drawn a Scheme
of our whole Design with special Directions for the Execution—
We'll meet at eight at your House, let all concern'd have Notice—
This Evening my Boy we'll strike for Liberty and Plunder.

[Exit.
Pir.

When I reflect, I can't help wondring at my inveterate
Pursuit of Arviragus—I can't forgive him, because I have
wrong'd him; I hate him, because I know I deserve not to be
lov'd by him—I loath my own Ingratitude, and yet like a harden'd
Sinner trot on in the old Track, so difficult 'tis when
Vice has Possession of us to regain our selves.

[Exit.
Enter Zaida and Semanthe.
Zai.
Oh my Semanthe! How has my' Aranes's Passion,
Th'intemperate Fire of Rage, robb'd me of all
Our Lives are so entwin'd, in him I live,
My Lords, my House, my Family, my Wealth,
My Children; all—Indeed my burthen'd Heart
Yet knows not to support the heavy Loss.

Sem.
Madam, your wounded Mind may yet be heal'd,
But you with piercing Fears retard the Cure—
De Sale, the King's Lieutenant, has profess'd
A generous Regard for your Misfortunes,
He begs as a Reward, the Honour only
To serve your Highness; here his Trust is great,
In him your Hopes yet live; he waits without
To know your Pleasure:

Zai.
Semanthe, much I fear to be oblig'd;
But drowning Wretches catch at Reeds; admit him.
Enter De Sale.
Thro' what strange Labyrinths, what entangling Mazes
Will my hard Fortune lead me?

D. Sale.
So Venus look'd in the Idalian Grove,
So mourn'd the Loss of her expiring Love,
Ambrosial Dews from heav'nly Fountains shed
With new born Flow'rs enrich'd her grassy Bed,
Thus all the Graces, all their Beauties arm,
Adorn her Grief, and make her Sorrows charm:
Happy the Lover, who that Hour preferr'd
His Vows, then every Lover's Vows were heard.

Zai.
These silken Terms, this gaudy Dress of Words
Can bring no Aid; and yet when Fortune smil'd,
My Mind was ever so in Love with Truth
The Metaphor with me destroy'd the Musick:
But oh, if your good Heart is touch'd with Pity,
Behold an Object worth your Charity:
A Princess thus sues in the Beggar's Phrase.

D. Sale.
You cover me with Shame—this to your Creature?
Know Madam—I have form'd a Scheme to help you;
Ere a few Hours expire, blind Fortune's Wheel
Again shall lift you to your former Glory.
In the mean time wou'd you not see your Lord?
The King is in his Closet—Opportunity
Stands fair—I know the value Lovers set
On a stolen hour of mutual Conference.

Zaid.
My guardian Angel, Thanks—My bounding Heart
Yet knows not how to pay her grateful Joy—
Oh gallant, generous Man, my constant Vows
Shall weary all the Gods for Blessings on you.

De Sale.
I'll post this happy Lover to your Arms;
But let your Interview be short—or else
It may prove dangerous, which Heav'n forefend,
You'll find my Deeds as faithful as my Words.

[Exit.
Zaid.
High Heav'n has rais'd this virtuous Man to help us,
Inspir'd his generous Breast with godlike Pity;
For like the Gods he graciously bestows,
Without the hopes of a Return.

Enter De Sale, Aranes, and Alvarez.
Aran.
I thank you, Sir,
I know not how to wish you a Reward
Beyond that Pleasure which Heroick Minds
(When they perform a virtuous Act) receive.
The Consciousness of a good Deed, exalts
The Mind above the sordid Earth she wears:
And she is more than half Immortal here.

De Sale.
Waste not your Time in empty Words on me,
I am your Slave, my Lord, I know your Worth,
And labour thus to give you Joys Immortal;
For Death and Virtue claim 'em.

[Aside.]
[Exit.
Zaid.
Oh my lov'd Lord!

Aran.
My Heart bounds up to meet thee at my Lips,
Oh take the little flutt'ring Wanderer in,
Or let him grow thus to thy Snowy Bosom,
And be th'Immortal Guard of Faithful Love.

Zaid.
I cannot tell thee how I love Aranes,
Yet sure thou mak'st Captivity a Blessing;
For when I see thy Face, I lose my Sorrows,
Forget my Father, Country, what I was,
And what I am; and all I give to thee.

Aran.
'Tis not, ye Rulers of the World, in Power,
In Wealth, nor all the glittering Train of Pride,
To give the Mind true Happiness, 'tis Love,
Tis mutual Love and Virtue.

Zaid.
De Sale, that truly great, that generous Man,
Has vow'd to aid our Cause, we shall be free.

Aran.
We shall, and in some homely Villa live and love,
Free from the Envy, from the Guilt of Greatness;
We'll steal a private Life in Peace and Innocence,
Our Air untainted, and our Table pure,
When on the fragrant Earth, with wholsome Viands,
We feed on Nature's Bounty—all around
The feather'd Choristers, on pendent Branches,
Shall grace our Artless Feast with Artless Musick—
Our happy Fathers thus in blest Security,
And rural Sweetness liv'd, ere Fraud and Art
Invaded their chast Joys.

Zaid.
To hear thee speak charms my distracted Mind,
And makes all calm within; but when I see thee,
My greedy, longing Eyes wou'd gaze for ever
Unsatisfy'd—Might I indulge their Joy,
Swift Hours wou'd unregarded pass, whole Years,
As in a gentle Slumber, steal away;
The rapid Stream of Time wou'd, like one Moment,
Flow back into Eternity again.

Alvar.
'Tis happily remembred, Time flows fast,
And Dangers here surround you, then be wise,
Divide your selves, that you may meet again.

Aran.
Oh that we must, that we must part, my Love,
Yet 'tis but for a Moment, our good Genius
Works with De Sale to Insure our Happiness—
Ministring Angels guard thee—Virtue stands
Like a white Rock in Neptune's troubled Surge,
And Winds and Waters impotently Rage.

Enter Arviragus, De Sale, Ricardo, and Guards.
De Sale.
Behold, my Sovereign, your Rival there,
Behold your Captive in your Mistress' Arms,
She holds him in a Circle that the Gods
Might envy.

Zaid.
Farewel—but Time will march a Leaden Pace,
'Till I behold my much-lov'd Lord again.

Aran.
'Till then we live on Hope, that Flatterer Hope!
But yet, remember, tho' he tires our Prayers,
Tho' he fatigues our Wishes, he'll be lost,
When next we meet, in never-ending Joys!

[Exit.
Arv.
Hah! 'tis Despair, 'tis Death, my boiling Veins
Will burst—So Madam—why d'ye start?
I am a Statue King, and Owls may perch
Upon my Marble Sceptre—Yes, you know it,
Or I had crush'd this sawcy Slave to nothing;
When first the haughty Worm presum'd to Love.

Zaid.
This Slave, in spite of Sceptres, here shall reign,
The faithful Lord of me.

De Sale.
I must withdraw, she shou'd not see me here:
The King shall act what wou'd make me appear
For ever odious in her lovely Eyes;
Thus doing all unknowing—Politicians
Move like the secret Wheels of Fate unseen,
By Second-Causes work.

[Aside.]
[Exit.
Arv.
Still wou'd I gaze, and still her Eyes behold me
With Hatred and Contempt—Inhuman Fair!
Yet be advis'd—the Rage of Kings is swift,
And killing as the Thunder-Stone—You know
That I can crush your Favourite, smooth Adonis.

Zaid.
This, Sir, is base;
And now the painted Gloss of Virtue's off,
I see a Bravo at the Head of Thousands,
And a mock King bloated with ill-got Power.

Arv.
Disdainful Woman!
My Heart already bleeds, unpity'd, mock'd,
And shall it shed the Crimson Drops alone?
Away fond Mercy—let the hopeless Cupid
Be dash'd with Blood—pursue th'ungrateful Boy,
And let the Traytor pay with Life his Crime
Ye both Conspire—Hem him within my Guards,
Then nail him with your Javelins to the Earth,
Let this Ixion feel an angry Jove.

[Ex. Richardo and Guards.
Zaid.
Hold, hold, you dreadful Ministers of Vengeance—
Good Sir, recall your fatal Message quick,
Now, now, remand 'em, ere the fatal Blow
Is given—Oh Sir, Aranes' Life is mine,
Then if you Love me, will you Murther me?

Arv.
Thy Words, fair Maid, like Honey-dews destroy
What they shou'd save.

Zaid.
I see a tender Mercy in your Eye,
Oh give it speedy Birth, and save your self
And me from black Despair and Death—
Why do you stop—Each Moment is Eternity—
Away then let your generous Pity save him,
Oh save him, Sir—reverse your bloody Doom,
You will, you do, I see your Mind is mov'd.

Arv.
Thy Truth and Innocence against my self
Have stirr'd me—but behold Richardo comes,
I fear my Orders are pursu'd.
Enter Richardo.
Richardo, how were my Commands obey'd?

Rich.
We found Aranes in the Pallace Grove,
He and his Friend Alvarez; when they saw us,
Both drew, prepar'd to make a brave Defence,
And Back to Back they firmly stood our Onset.
Aranes' Eyes shot fire; the Stag at Bay
Defies his Hunters so; his killing Sabre
Uplifted, fell with mighty Slaughter round him,
And dy'd with his Assailants Blood the Earth;
At length, all breathless, and oppress'd with Numbers,
A well-pois'd Javelin met his Manly Breast,
The pointed Spear pierc'd deep; repeated Wounds
Follow'd the deadly Blow—he stagger'd wide,
His rowling Eyes struggled for Light in vain;
Then with a sudden Turn upwards he sprung,
So shot his Valiant Spirit to the Gods,
And left the lifeless Lump of Clay behind
In good Alvarez' Arms.

Zaid.
Enough; enough; oh mighty Sum of Woe!
The Springs of Nature break, I am dismiss'd—
Your Slave will now be free—Confusion! Night!

[Swoons.
Arv.
Assist her, aid her; see she dies, Semanthe!
What has my rash unthinking Passion done?
But, like an Idiot, blown the Taper out
That gave me Light and Heat—Indeed within,
I find all dark and gloomy.

Sem.
A clammy Sweat bedews her Brow—her Breast
Labours for Breath—she sighs, and Life returns.

Zaid.
Ha! are not these my Murtherers, Semanthe?
Bleed, bleed, ye Veins, sluice every Artery,
Give in your goary Evidence to Heav'n,
Ask the Gods Justice—but they sleep, and careless
Make their Vicegerents Tyrants—'tis a Fault;
Hark, 'twas a Screech-owl's Hoot, the Bird of Night
And croaking Raven sing Eternal Dirges,
But I am hoarse, and cannot chant my Love,
To his sweet Rest—Will you be good, and give me
Some Flowers to strow his Grave—oh my poor Brain!

Enter De Sale.
Arv.
This is a heavy sight—oh wise De Sale
Now give thy Master Counsel, for his Heart
Is grown too great a Burthen for his Breast.

Zaid.
I do not call thee Tyrant, Murtherer,
Language has yet no Meaning bad Enough,
No—but I'll tell a Tale of thee to Heav'n,
Shall bar the Gates for ever to thy Soul;
Not Penitence, not a whole Sea of Tears,
Nor Mercy's self, shall wash thee white again.

Sem.
Your Wrongs must call down Vengeance from above,
In the mean time asswage your Griefs with Patience.

Zaid.
Patience, the Slave of Fools, a Chain that's fixt,
To senseless, lifeless, animated Nothings.

Sem.
Will your hard Fate admit no Comforter?

Zaid.
Is he not dead? has not the greedy Grave
At once devour'd all Joy and Comfort with him?
Confusion on all Comfort! I disclaim it.
Comfort's a Parasite, a flattering Knave,
Melts Resolution, and destroys Despair,
The Soveraign Lord of my poor Heart and me:
Look, the relentless Fiends with Wonder gaze
On my vast Griefs, and dare not bid me hope.

D. Sale.
My Lord, your Presence here inflames her Hurt;
Retire, till Time has worn it from her Memory:
Women are violent in Grief and Joy.
Like Infants, wail to Death for a fond Trifle,
Which if not taken from 'em they despise,
And throw neglected by.

Arv.
Oh cou'd I call some few fled Hours back!
It may not be, I feel a Load of Guilt,
And all within is Tumult—
De Sale remain, and give thy best Assistance
To that wrong'd Fair one—lost, unhappy Zaida!

Zaid.
What, does the King of Terrors pity me?
Ye mighty Gods, where will you find New Scourges,
When you inflict such Punishments, that Hell
Feels some Remorse, and Fiends themselves drop Tears?
But why do I complain of righteous Heav'n?
And yet how like a Tyrant Justice looks,
Without her Sister Mercy by her Side:
See there he lies all pale and cold; 'tis Pity,
Cover him, keep him warm, I'll bathe his Wounds,
And hide him in my Bosom from their Fury:
Alas, he's vanish'd—oh!

D. Sale.
[Exeunt all but De Sale.

[Exit.
Enter Herring, Shark, Porpoise, Codshead, and several Mob.
Omn.

Huzza! Liberty and Property, Property and Liberty,
huzzah!

Cod.

Hear me Neighbour Shark, there are three Reasons why
we all rise at once thus like a great Wind—first and secondly
to preserve our selves unmarry'd, and thirdly and fourthly that
we may live Batchelors.

Her.

Be happy, and be drunk, you Dogs; for we will have no
Arbitrary Wives to controul our Commands.

Cod.

No, no, one and all we'll not be marry'd.

Omn.

One and all we'll not be marry'd.

Her.

We'll all live and dye Batchelors, and our Childrens Children
shall have reason to pray for us; I'll have no Family but a
full Cellar.

Cod.

We most of us came into the World without the help of
the Person.

Por.

And we'll walk quietly out on't, without his pushing.

Cod.

If any one among us is so hardy to own himself lawfully
begotten—

Por.

He's a Son of a Whore.

Her.

I'll be a Slave to nothing but Sack, I'll be marry'd to a
Pipe of Canary, and drink my Wife dry.—

Por.

Thou shalt be fill'd brimfull of Wine, then tunn'd up,
and kept for a rich Cordial when thou art old.

Her.

Matrimony is sour small Beer, I ha' made an Oath not
to drink a drop on't—I'll be true to Sack, constant as the
Turtle to his Mate—'tis dearer to me than my own Father's
Wife and Children, and when I dye, I'll make some Provision.

Look ye, this is no Rebellion, but an Uproar, and I am Lord
of Misrule; 'tis a sort of a great Riot, when the Youth of the
Kingdom boil over in Frolick.

Shark.

But my Brother-Citizens, and Sailors, when we have
mended the Breeches of the Commonwealth, and patcht up the
State, who will you have for your King, or will you rule your
selves?

Por.

We'll rule our selves, that is, we our soverign Lord
the People will bear Authority over our Sovereign Lord the
People.

Cod.

Learnedly Argoll'd, therefore I say we'll all be Kings.

Her.

You lye like a fresh-water Lubber—I'll be your King,
and govern you all most dissolutely—Sack shall govern me, and
I will govern you, and in order to that I will drink incessantly,
to buoy up my Spirits, and make me fit for Action:

Cod.

Well then, let us march soberly to the Palace.

Por.

And there most humbly remonstrate to our King Arviragus,—

Shark.

That unless he will please to let us do what we think
proper—

Cod.

And live like sober Gentlemen in Common, without any
Enclosures—

Por.

Then we in all Humility beg leave,—

Cod.

To burn his Palace about his Ears—

Por.

Rifle his Treasury.—

Cod.

And kick him down for an Usurper.

Omn.

Ay, ay, let's to the Palace, burn, fire, murther,—

[Going off.
Her.

Hold, hold, you most outrageous Rebells; I'll make a
Speech first—I am always Eloquent in my Liquor—Gentlemen
all, Fellow-Citizens, Fellow-Soldiers, Fellow-Sailors, Fellow-Drunkards,
and Fellow-Rebells, if there be Virtue in Sack,
as sure there is much, then are we Virtuous, for we are full of
Sack—Is there a Man among us that will refuse a Bumper, let
him dye in fresh Water, or become a Toast for small Beer; and
be most scandalously supt up by some penitential Sinner, who
cools after drinking—as for my poor part, I will with your
Assistance deform the Common-wealth; for tap me, Gentlemen,
if 'tis not a very great Enormity to see your sober Rascals walking
steadily about at Eleven at Noon, those sober Rascalls will
destroy the Common-wealth.

I'll drink and sing, with any Man in the Kingdom—How
now, what's here? Lawful Authority! then Legs look to't, if they
trip you up, they'll find you guilty of Treason.

Enter Boreal, Richardo, and Guards.
Bor.

Topsy turvy faith, the Government upon its Head, and
reeling drunk too—Hark ye, ye dirty Rags of Faction, ye
Knave-Tools—Get you all home to sleep immediately,
digest your Wine and your Grievances, or I'll send such a Show'r
of leaden Arguments among you as shall quiet you, if not convince
you.

Her.

Hold, hold Admiral; you're always hot and heavy, like
a Tailor's Goose—Suppose we all design to be hang'd to
prevent our being marry'd, then you are bit.

Cod.

Look ye, I have two Wives already in Old England, and
I gad I lov'd 'em at first, as if Heav'n and Earth wou'd come together,
but I care no more for 'em now, than an Apple's like an Oyster;
so that if I marry again no body will pity, me they'll say
I was an old Offender, and wou'd take no Warning.

Rich.
The King commands you instantly depart,
Each to your several House, and cease your Riot,
His gentle Mercy calls it yet no more;
If you obey he grants a general Pardon,
If not, his Sword shall justifie his Right,
And take severe Revenge on every Traytor.

Por.
A most gracious Prince truly.

Cod.

A very gracious Prince, and I forgive him with all my
Heart.

Her.

I begin to relent too—we'll obey him, and drink his
Health in a Bumper—my dear, de—ar Admiral, tell him I
am very sorry I have offended him, and that I humbly hope in his
great Mercy he won't marry me—and so we bid you heartily
farewel.

[Exeunt.
Bor.

You must have Wives, my Friends, to keep you at home,
and preserve your little Heads from being perplext with Politicks
—Look, if the guilty Fools are not all stole away already—
Richardo, we must search carefully for the Secret Wind that rais'd
these Waters—I have long suspected his first Favourite De
Sale, but my Suspicion must, like a Setting Dog, lye close till
my Net's over him, then let the Game rise, all is safe—Ha!

Yonder goes Tulip, I have observ'd of late that poor Creature
has in vain endeavour'd to hide Business in his Face—If they have
trusted him with the Secret, they have done him an Injury—
he was never design'd by Nature for a Plotter—I'll look into
him and see—the Breast of a Fool is transparent like Glass;

[Exeunt.