University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

Enter O Brien and O Neill.
O B.
So soon will they be here! a March so swift
Raises my Wonder and deserves my Praise.

O N.
Swift they obey and bravely execute,
When by their King and Country call'd to Arms.
The Dane lies now secure, his Troops dispers'd,
His Guards remiss, in Scorn of our Attempts.
'Ere the Account of my Success arrives,
We will attack this proud imperious Foe.
Behold, on yonder Hills, the spacious Wood,
Whose venerable Boughs o'reshade the Boyn,
By that our March is cover'd and conceal'd.
Some chosen Troops will 'ere 'tis Night be there,
To Morrow all my Force; nor shall they pause,
For 'ere the Sun next Day shall guild these Hills,
(If Heav'n permits) this Danish Pest shall find
Our native Virtue shall again break forth.

O B.
And we will boldly second the Design.
'Tis the last Struggle that our Fate allows.
And wou'd to Heav'n th'important Day were come.
When we resolve some mighty Enterprize,
'Till Execution follows, we are rack'd
With Fears and rais'd with Hopes alternately.
Thousand mishap'd Ideas fill the Brain
And Anarchy presides and rules our Reason.—
The neighing Steed, the Trumpet's sound, the Clash
Of Arms, and all the noble Din of War,
Will calm this Hurry and restore our Peace.

O N.
In other Cares I pass the tedious Day.
Sabina, ever present to my Eyes,
With Sov'reign Pow'r direct and rules my Thoughts.—
Fame seems to Fortune join'd, on the same Wheel
She sits; as various, giddy and as blind;
As that inconstant Goddess smiles or frowns,
Vice is renoun'd and Vertue is traduced.
Wealth is the Wish of Fools, the Gain of Knaves,
Of which the vain Possessors boast; yet want.
Scepters and Crowns at random are bestowed.
Sabina is my Empire, Wealth, and Fame.
Why is my only Blessing then deferr'd?
Why shou'd I wait? why for to Morrrw long
To taste the Joys, which this bless'd Night can give?

O B.
'Tis but a short Delay, then she is yours.

O N.
Ev'n the next Moment, to a Wretch in Pain,
Comes slowly on and moves with heavy Pace.
Enter Eugenius.
Give then Consent, give to my Tortures ease,
For she is all obedient to your Will,
Oh make her mine! oh bless me with her Charms!
See my propitious Stars Eugenius send,
To aid my Pray'r and tie the happy Knot.

Eu.
Is this a time to talk of Marriage Rites?
Turn there your Eyes, behold the Danish Troops;
A Squadron this way moves, and at their Head
Turgesius rides, already within Ken.
He never comes but to augment our Cares,
To lay new Burthens on the harrass'd Land,
Or to insult us with ungen'rous Taunts.

O B.
I have but just perceived a Dawn of Joy,
When Mists arise and Clouds obscure my View.
The tender Blade but just sprang forth to Day,
When Blites and Mildews curst the promis'd Fruit.

Eu.
Be sure his Coming boads us ill; howe'er
Till Fate ordains, bear we yet farther Wrongs:
Be pleas'd to wait his Message in your Tent;
And you brave Prince conceal your being here.
Your Presence may alarm the Foe; perhaps
Prevent the great Design you meditate.

O N.
Shall I give way? shall I retire and hide,
And fly the Place where Danger may appear?
So tarnish all the Glories I have won.
No: let it ne'er be say'd O Neill withdrew.
Cou'd he shoot Poison from his baleful Eyes,
Or cou'd he spread Infection with his Breath,
Urg'd by my Country's Wrongs, in Vertue safe,
His Terrors I wou'd brave and dare his Rage.

Eu.
And will our Liberty be thus restor'd?
And will Sabina thus obtain a Crown?

O N.

Exeunt.
Enter Turgesius and Erric.
Tur.
Let it be told, that I am come, and say
It is my Will to be attended here.
[To an Officer as he enters.
Sabina is she call'd?

Er.
Sabina, Daughter to their King.

Tur.
And so excelling Fair?

Er.
Not to be told, and with Amazement seen.
Not such a livid Whiteness in the Skin
As our unwieldly, lifeless Women have;
But fair and clear like Lawn o'er Crimson spread,
While her smooth Lips and Cheeks uncover'd seem;
There glows the blushing Rose, there Health resides,
Urging the rash Beholder to desire,
'Till by the Lustre of her Eyes o'eraw'd,
Downwards he looks, nor dares aspire to wish.

Tur.
Methinks, thou art too wanton in her Praise.
Thou speak'st in am'orous Rapture of her Charms,
And thy unguarded Tongue betrays thy Love.

Er.
'Twere Insolence to raise my Thoughts so high.
The Daughter of a King, tho' fall'n beneath
Your conqu'ring Sword, suits not my private State.

Tur.
'Tis false; rais'd to Command, trusted by me,
Thou hast superiour Rank to petty Kings;
That Claim entitles thee to force her Love,
And dignifies her boasted Blood.

Er.
To you
I owe my All; the Creature of your Pow'r.
But feebler Charms have warm'd my humble Heart.
I covet one less fair, of less Degree,
Yet of high Birth, yet lovely in my View.

Tur.
She also shall be mine; I will have both.
When my Desires shall droop, when cloy'd with them,
Or when new Beauties give new Appetite
I'll cast them off to thee; to other Slaves.

Er.
When you command, with Pleasure I obey;
Pursue or quit my Love as you direct.

Tur.

Enter O Brien and Sabina.
Er.
See, where the Wonder comes to charm your Heart!
She comes! and brighter Light adorns the Day.
Lillies and Roses on her Face are spread,
To glad the Eye, and to perfume the Air.

Tur.
Away, and let me gaze—till I am blind;
And sure I shall be soon depriv'd of Sight,
[Fixing his Eyes on Sabina.
She pains my Eyes; my Eyes, my Brain, my Heart.
Why beats my Brain? why flutters thus my Heart?
Whence is this sudden Chance, this Tumult whence?

O B.
'Twas your Command I shou'd attend you here;
So the rough Messenger declar'd your Will.
See, I obey: He that was once a King,
And Lord supreme of all this goodly Isle,
Obeys, without a Mumur, against Fate;
And bless'd be Heav'n, for so resign'd a Will.

Tur.
Oft have I heard of Heav'n, of Forms divine,
Of Beauty too resplendent for the Light.—
Sure I behold that Heav'n, that Form divine.

O B.
Not but I feel, nor am I senseless grown
By adverse Fate and a long Chain of Woes:
It were no Virtue else to bear those Woes;
I feel, I see to what I am reduc'd;
To pay Obedience to the Victor's Will,
And stand neglected like a common Slave.

Tur.
If there be Heav'n, then sure from Heav'n she came;
If Angels be, such is their Shape and Air;
With such a Grace and Majesty they move;
Such is their Hue, such Splendor cast their Eyes.

O B.
How vain is the Prerogative of Birth:
How useless to be sprung of Royal Blood;
To have Pretence to or deserve a Crown:
Depriv'd of Power to punish or reward!
How soon that Pow'r is lost too well I know.
Learn hence, my Daughter, to contemn the Praise,
The Worship of self-interested Man.

Tur.
Thy Daughter! Where: Tis that fair Creature she?

[to O B.
O B.
Hapless Sabina! Partner of my Woes!
She too attends, submissive to her Fate.

Tur.

Sab.
Small Thanks are due by me to babling Fame;
She, envious, spread the Praises of our Isle,
And urg'd from Lands remote the hostile Ghest.
Hence flow our Tears, from hence our Ruine springs,
And hence Sabina is become a Slave.

Tur.

Sab.
How well such Precepts suit a Prince's Mouth
Which instigate his Subjects to rebel!
Ye lab'ring Hinds! who sweat and drudge for Life,
Away with all your Implements of Toil,
Be bold, and dare, and bravely seize a Crown!
Listen ye Sons of Men! your Pow'r resign;
No more presume to hold the World in Awe:
Obey the Lyon, to the Tiger yield,
And give to them the Ensigns of Command.
Humanity and Temperance are scorn'd,
Justice and Virtue are of no Regard.

Tur.
When such an Advocate for Justice pleads,
Who can dispute, who dares resist her Pow'r?
Inur'd to Arms, in War I plac'd my Joys,
Constant Success have made these Joys compleat.
Renown and Empire this good Sword has won,
'Till now the only Objects of my Wish.
Now other Passions agitate my Mind,
Inflame my Blood, and swell and tear my Breast,
And I grow sick and giddy with their Force.—
Why to those Passions give I not a Loose?
[apart
Why do I stop? why shew I not the Cause?
To speak were Ease; and so the Will directs:
My Heart and Tongue rebel against that Will.
Ah abject, coward Heart! Oh traitor Tongue!
Whence are ye aw'd? whence springs this dastard Fear?—
Have I in War and Danger pass'd my Life?
Triumph'd in War and Dangers overcome?
Have I brav'd Death in thousand dreadful Forms,
And seen unmov'd Destruction spread around?
And am I grown a Recreant in Peace?
So blast the Lawrels with such Toil obtain'd
Shall I the Victor to the Captive yield?
Away such mean, such poor submissive Thoughts!
In Cottages reside, in Prisons dwell;
Approach not basely here; here I command.
Rouse then my Heart, assume thy wonted Pride
And tell her, she is honour'd by thy Love.—
I do but look, and all my Fears return:
Fame, Empire, Conquest, are again resign'd—.
I must not, will not thus support the Yoak.—
Tortures and Plagues! why am I thus un-man'd?
I scorn my self, am therefore scorn'd by her.

O B.
You seem disturb'd: Whence may the Cause arise?

Tur.
Behold, behold the Cause! see there she stands!
View, if thou can'st, those Eyes! survey that Form!
See all the Graces play about her Face!
Circle her Shape, and hover on her Breast!
See here a Man, who owns the Pow'r of Love,
Then tell thy self the Cause why thus I rave.—
'Tis done.—
[apart.
The disobedient Word at length finds way,
And now shall ever dwell upon my Tongue.
Passion subsides, and my swoll'n Heart grows calm,
And Ease, and Peace, and Joy, attend on Love.—
Yes, Fairest! yes: You have inflam'd my Blood,
[to her
You rais'd this Storm, you can compose my Mind.

Sab.
If from my Presence this Disorder springs,
Your Peace by absence will be best restor'd.

Tur.
Oh 'tis too late! thy Image in my Breast
Ever infix'd, will there triumphant reign.
Oh stay! and see the Wonders of thy Eyes!
See me subdu'd! see me a Suppliant grown!
The Trumpet's Sound no more enlivens now;
The Fife and Drum no more can warm my Blood,
And glitt'ring Arms are horrid to my View.
Trophies, Applause, and Lawrels I resign,
And yield me Captive to the Victor Love.
Be Love the Recompence of all my Toil:
Be Love my only Care, my only Joy.—
Confusion! see, if she vouchsafes to hear,
Regardless of my Words, unmindful of my Pow'r.

O B.
Beware, nor irritate his Mind too far.

[To Sabina aside.
Sab.
We own your Pow'r, we feel the dire Effects.
Look round and see what Desolation reigns.
My King, my Father robb'd of native Right.
Empire is lost and Liberty is fled.
Murder and Rapine waste our peaceful Land:
And can I bear unmov'd my Country's Wrongs?
And thus afflicted can I hear of Love?

Tur.
An Empire won, the Sov'reign Pow'r obtain'd,
Whoe'er repented of the guilty Means?
Success gives Right and sanctifies the Cause.

Sab.
Arms may subdue, and may erect an Empire:
Nor Arms nor Empire can subdue the Heart.
Extend thy Conquests and enslave the World,
Place there thy Hopes and scorn the Toys of Love.

Tur.
Perish that World, e'er I resign my Love!
Born of your Looks, and nurtur'd ev'n by Scorn,
And in one Instant grown the Lord supreme.
Take then my Lawrels of my Crown dispose,
Revenge thy Country but reward my Love.

Er.
To what Extreams by Passion is he driv'n!
[aside
This tame Submission frustrates my Intent.
By other Methods he must seek her Heart.
Permit me, Sir, to beg you wou'd retire,
[To Turgesius
I have Affairs of Moment to impart.

Tur.
And is there ought of Moment but my Love?

Er.
'Tis to obtain that Love a surer Way.

Tur.
So summon'd I assent: those flatt'ring Hopes
Urge me to follow thee with eager Haste.
Rack'd by the Passions which thy Eyes inspire,
In search of Peace some Moments I retire.
[To Sabina
Absent, thy Image will engross my Mind,
And Fancy then may represent thee kind.
Oh may I find thee such at my return,
Impatient for the Joys, for which I burn.
Let me possess but her whom I adore,
Lightning shall vainly dart, the Thunder vainly roar.

[Exit Turgesius and Erric.
O B.
The Loss of Empire and the Loss of Pow'r
We may support, while Reason is our guide.
Better be subject to the Danes, than as
This Dane, to ev'ry Passion be a Slave.
Reason directs us to the Choice of Good,
And while obey'd, the Mind enjoys sweet Peace
In lowest state, conscious of no Reproach.
But Passion, with Confusion fills the Brain,
Impetuous hurries us to lawless Acts,
And gratify'd one Moment, gives us up,
Abandon'd to eternal black Remorse.

Sab.
Not yet ye Angels! are our Woes compleat:
Not yet are we enough oppress'd by War!
But my hard Fate will yet encrease the Weight,
And add new Troubles by an impious Love.

Enter O Neill.
O N.
What, Musick in that Voice! how sweet the Sound!
Born to command, still may thy Empire spread!
May ev'ry Heart obey thy heav'nly Eyes!
And Love for ever dwell upon thy Tongue!

Sab.
Oh fatal Wish to thy Repose and mine!
Happy! had I in Cottages been bred,
Injur'd to Toil, to tend the woolly Flock!
How happy shou'd I be, were I beheld
With such Indifference as I view my self!
I shou'd not thus bewail the Loss of Pow'r,
Nor be the Object of a Tyrant's Flame;
But indolent consume the peaceful Day
In lowly Pastimes and in harmless Love.

O B.
My lowly State, the Conquest of our Realm
Are not enough to satisfie the Dane.
Now he invades our Thoughts, and to reward
The Ravage of his Arms, demands her Love.

O N.
Her Love! oh Heaven! oh my afflicted Soul!
Is then the Savage capable of Love?
Can that soft Passion dwell in his rough Mind?
Ah me! who can behold and not desire?
Ah me! if so, what may my Fears suggest?

Sa.
Beware of Thoughts uneasy to thy self,
Beware of Thoughts injurious to my Fame;
That Jewel still remains to sooth my Mind;
That Jewel is more precious than a Throne,
And far out-shines the Lustre of a Crown.
No, let me still in Bondage wear out Life;
Let wayward Chance dispose of sov'reign Power,
Tyrants erect and lawful Kings depose!
But my clear Fame, may that unsullied last!
May that this transitory Breath survive,
Perfume my Ashes and adorn my Grave!

O N.
Far, far from me be each offensive Thought!
The solid Rock unmov'd the Torrent bears,
The Surges dash and Tempests rainly roar;
More firm, more permanent thy Vertue stands.
But his frail Mind is rul'd by his Desires,
As the light Bark is toss'd by ev'ry Wave,
And driv'n on Shelves with ev'ry Gust of Wind.
To what Extremities may he proceed,
Unaw'd by Heav'n, and uncontroul'd by Man.

O B.
Yet he must stoop to Fame; nor is he made
Of better Stuff, than the vile crawling Worm.
And yet this frail, this earthy mould'ring Mass
Of Clay, fancies it self Omnipotent,
Or not enough enliven'd, dreads too much.
Man's Spirit still at Work, active in Sleep,
Projects some mighty Good, or fears some Ill.
False are our Hopes and groundless are our Fears.
Faith, Justice, Laws, Obedience, Gratitude,
Are Cob-Web Bonds when Empire is in View.
Man breaks thro' all, and when the Toy is gain'd,
Care mounts the Throne, and there Suspition broods;
Keeps even Pace with him as he ascends,
And haunts his Mind and mocks his Dignity;
And by the Ills which he himself has wrought,
Others are taught to overturn the State.
And as our Hopes deceive us, so we find
The Disappointment of some great Design
Has prov'd the Means to reach to what we aim'd.
And thus the Captive, doom'd by lawless Pow'r
To Bonds, to Exile or to shameful Death,
Regains his Freedom when he most despair'd.
Submit we then, and thus securely rest,
What heav'nly Pow'r decrees, is ever best.

[Exeunt.