University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

Enter Turgesius and Erric.
Tur.
Thou hast advis'd me well.

Er.
It cannot fail.
'Tis true, that Flattery is an useful Art,
The common Engine to insnare the Sex.
Their Love of Praise is by the Nurse imprest,
Shrivell'd with Age they listen to that Sound;
The Peasant's Brat will nible at the Bait,
And the Great Lady thinks it is her due.
But the unpractis'd Lover often errs,
With lavish Praises he extolls their Charms,
Submits too far, and swells their vanity;
They then despise him for the Charms he gave,
And with Disdain behold him at their Feet,
The Idol scorning the Artificer.
The skillful Lover then new Arts employs
And varies his Address,
Seems negligent, and in his Turn grows vain,
Assumes more haughty Airs, abates his Praise,
And rules what he before had deify'd.
The prouder stooping to a Man more proud.

Tur.
Shou'd she refuse to gratify my Love,
I can Command and Force her to commply.

Er.
'Tis what they all expect, they all desire:
Resistance is Pretence to Chastity.
A Word they are instructed to revere.
And in their Legends they relate, some few,
In former Days, have rated it so high,
Nor Liberty, nor Life they held so dear,
Such Obstinacy then prevail'd. But these
Are Tables held in this enlightn'd Age.
The Word remains, the Thing is long since fled.
Affected still to quicken our Persuit:
They seem to fly us, when they most desire,
And ne're deny, but to engage us more.

Tur.
Orders are sent, that she shou'd meet me here.
I will no more Address in humble Stile,
But be the Conqueror and assert my Pow'r.
Thou might'st perceive, when I appear'd dismay'd,
Struck with th'unusual Splendor of her Eyes,
With how much Scorn her Conquest she survey'd,
As lawful Tribute to her haughty Charms:
She strait assum'd a more Majestick Air,
And her Eyes darted on me fiercer Rays.

Er.
I mark'd it well; astonish'd at her Pride.

Tur.
And when I bow'd and check'd my daring Mind,
With Awe approach'd her and with Rev'rence spoke,
My innate Pride and Majesty forgot,
She turn'd aside, nor deign'd to cast a Look.
On me, her Father's Conqueror and King.

Er.
The common Practise of her thoughtless Kind.

Tur.
What! to reject the Man who can compell,
To slight the Offering with Devotion paid.

Er.
All, all are vain, and she more vain than all.

Tur.
She merits not my Heart.

Er.
Not worth your serious Thought.

Tur.
A Meteor glaring in the Sky.

Er.
Enough to lead the common Herd astray,
While you, sedate, deride their idle Fears.

Tur.
Fayrer 'tis true, than Fancy can describe.

Er.
Oh she has Beauty to subdue Mankind,
To awe the Hero and imflame the cold.

Tur.
Me she has aw'd; she took me unprepar'd,
To Darkness long inur'd, my sight was weak;
Nor cou'd sustain the Lustre of the Sun
But what surpris'd and pain'd me at the first:
I see unmov'd, familiar to my Eyes.

Enter Sabina.
Er.
See, she appears, be mindful of your Pow'r.

Tur.
See, she appears, and Charms as heretofore;
She comes, and I grow aguish again.

Sa.
Hither I come, sent by my Royal Father
He knows the State to which he is reduc'd,
And pays Compliance to the victor's Laws;
While I Obey my Father and my King.

Tur.
He knows, it seems, to stoop to my Commands;
'Twere well, were others taught by him to yield.

Sa.
The Chance of War has rob'd him of his Crown,
And Fortune puts the Scepter in your Hands.

Tur.
I know no Chance, no Fortune I allow,
'Tis my superior Merit gave Success.
But be it Merit, Chance or Fortune's Gift,
The lawful Right of Conquest I disclaim;
To thee I bend, to thee that Right resign,
Thy Pow'r obey, and humbly sue for Love.

Sa.
Thy wild Ambition and thy fatal Arms
Have tor'en the Crown from my good Father's Head,
Enslav'd his People, laid his Country waste.
Strange Methods to obtain the Daughter's Heart!

Tur.
Those Deeds you blame were previous to my Love,
And Love shall make Attonement for those Deeds.
Reign in thy Father's stead, receive his Crown,
And be thy self the Mistress of this Isle.

Sa.
What! snatch the Crown from him who gave me Life,
Deprive my Brother of his native Right,
And gall my Country with Tyrannick Pow'r!
Shall I do this, shall I incur such Guilt?
So to Posterity transmit my shame,
And so disgrace the Lineage whence I spring.

Tur.
Possession of a Crown defaces Guilt;
Be wise, and taste the Joys of Sovereign Pow'r.

Sa.
Oh may that Crown sit heavy on my Head!
Oh may the guilty Load crush me to Earth
And rob my Days of Peace, my Nights of Rest!
When I submit to reign on guilty Terms.

Tur.
Say, I shou'd place thy Father on his Throne,
Set free his People, give his Country Peace,
Renounce my Conquest and the Right of Arms?

Sa.
With grateful Songs we wou'd extol thy Name,
And all our Harps shou'd celebrate thy Praise.

Er.
Again with Passion blind, he meanly sues,
And says he knows not what.
[Aside.
If Sir—

Tur.
Begon,
I have not leisure now to hear thy Talk,
Nor listen to thy sawcy wise Advise—
Wou'd this prevail and melt thy flinty Heart,
[to Sa.
Wou'dst thou on these, on any Termes be mine.

Sa.
Be thine!

Tur.
Ay.
Wou'dst thou be mine? To me yield up thy Charms,
And be the Recompense for Empire lost?

Sa.
Be thine! not to be Mistress of the World.

Tur.
How! am I then so odious to your Sight,
To slight an Empire if conferr'd by me?

Sa.
Forbid it virtue and true Piety!
Forbid it all ye Martyrs for our Faith!
Forbid it all ye Holy Saints above,
That I shou'd take a Pagan to my Arms,
Or yield me to an Infidel's Desire!

Tur.
These are the Notions of an abject Mind,
Taught by the Nurse, by wily Priests improv'd,
To fill the Mind with superstitious Awe,
And make free Man subservient to their Pride.

Sa.
Who Heav'n disowns may well deride their Priests.
Their Character, debas'd and vilified,
Prepares the Way for gross Impiety.
Blest be those Priests who so instructed me!
Who taught me early to revere high Heav'n,
And shew'd my Infancy the Paths of Truth.

Tur.
'Tis then to them I owe this vain Neglect,
And they shall feel the Weight of my Resentments;
Dungeons and Gibbets shall reward their Zeal.
But Thou—whose Arrogance disdains a Crown,
Whose Superstition has rejected me—

Sa.
I heard thy Love, I hear thy Threats unmov'd.

Tur.
Thou hast not long to triumph in thy Scorn.

Sa.
Oh welcome Death, the Cure of all our Woes!

Tur.
Egregious Folly to contemn thy Life,
Or fly the Joys of Life, misled by Faith.

Sa.
Oh blessed Faith, from whence true Wisdom springs!
For fortify'd by Thee, we gladly bear
All the Calamities of this frail Life,
And welcome Death, the Entrance to true Joys.

Tur.
Death is thy Due; but that will not suffice.

Sa.
Then stretch thy Malice to invent new Pains,
Be subtil, and improve the Torturer's Art.
Heav'n will support and aid me on the Rack,
And turn thy Engines to a Bed of Down.

Tur.
Fain wou'd I win thee by more gentle Means;
Oh cou'd I move thy Heart t'accept of mine,
To swell with Passion and inflame thy Blood,
Make thee impatient for the Joys of Love,
With equal Ardor dart into my Arms,
There sigh, there pant, rapt with extatic Bliss!

Sa.
I need not answer what I shou'd not hear.

Tur.
Confusion! how she trifles with my Love.—
Submission, Duty, Awe, Respect, be gone,
I drive ye hence, no more infest my Heart,
Nor cross my stern Resolves. Hear then my Will.
My Pray'rs deny'd; I will possess by Force,
By Force thou shalt be brought a Victim to my Bed.

Sa.
Shield me good Heav'n! Guard me ye sacred Pow'rs!

Tur.
There will I triumph o'er thy stubborn Heart,
And smile to see thy Tears and hear thy Groans.

Sa.
Ah me most wretched! horrid, horrid Thought!

Tur.
In vain thou shalt implore what now thou fliest,
But curse thy Folly, and detest thy Pride.

Sa.
Too long the Mask of humble Love was worn,
And the Disguise sat awkward on thy Tongue.
Now thou betray'st the Rancor of thy Soul,
The Tyrant and the Fiend are all display'd.

Tur.
It is thy Sex's Privilege to rail.
Thou dost but add Increase to my Desires,
It is Possession must abate my Flame.
Give then thy Anger scope; I fear no Censure,
Or if I did, that will excuse the Deed.

Sa.
Ah no! ah! I re-call my hasty Words,
And chide the rash Intemperance of my Tongue.
Thee good, thee wise, thee virtuous I allow,
Thy Pow'r revere, thy Right of Empire own,
Extol thy Justice, and thy Mercy praise.

Er.
See, she relents, see how your Threats prevail.

(to Tur.)
Tur.
Thanks to that Pow'r that can extort this Praise

(to Sabina)
Sa.
See at your Feet the Daughter of a King,
Behold the Daughter of O Brien kneels!
The Great O Brien once! ah me that once!
Oh do not swell the Sorrows of my Heart,
Already vast, too great for Utterance!

Tur.
In vain thou dost implore, my Will is fix'd.

Sa.
Turn not away, obdurate to my Pray'rs!
Oh be not deaf when the Afflicted sue!
Oh let thy Virtue master thy Desires!
Give way to Pity, let thy Mercy rule,
Mercy, the brightest Ornament of Crowns!

Tur.
Rise from the Earth, I wou'd not see thee kneel.

Sa.
Oh! never, never will I move from hence.
Fix'd at thy Feet for ever I will pray,
Here weep for ever, here for ever sigh.

Tur.
I cannot bear her Sighs, nor can relent.

Sa.
Behold me prostrate, crawling on the Earth;
Oh turn, and kindly tread me into Dust!
Condemn'd to loathsom Dungeons let me lie,
The miserable Captive of your Wrath;
There let me linger out an hated Life,
Feeding on Worms, and shortly Food for them.

Tur.
And does thy Heart prompt thee to bear such Woes?
And does that Heart refuse the Joys of Love?
Am I more scorn'd than Worms or Dungeons are?
Thy Tears had almost melted my Resolves,
But thy disdainful Choice confirms me more.

Sa.
Alas! I am distracted with my Fears,
Who can be wise and so oppress'd with Grief?
Oh be indulgent to my clam'rous Grief,
Oh spare my Virtue, blast not my good Name!

Tur.
Again thou dost incense me with those Words,
Must I disclaim my Love to feed thy Pride?
Shall I be slighted for that Bubble Fame?
And thro' the Insolence of Virtue starv'd?
No, my Ambition leads to real Joys,
Such I demand, such will I force from thee.

Sa.
Oh yet be good, oh yet re-call thy Threats!

Tur.
Never will I desist.

Sa.
What, never!

Tur.
Never.

Sa.
Is't possible! Will nothing move thee then?

Tur.
Nothing; I am determin'd to possess.

Sa.
Then I disclaim my late Humility,
(Rising)
Dry up my Tears, and fly to Heav'n for Aid.

Tur.
Be so proected as thy Nation was.

Sa.
Vain, impious Man! And dost thou thus repay
The Benefits afforded thee by Heav'n?
Now I despise thy Rage, laugh at thy Pow'r;
A Woman feeble and unarm'd, with Ease
The Wretch can vanquish braving thus great Heav'n.

Tur.
Fly to that Refuge, at thy Altars kneel:
Urg'd by my Flame I'll drag thee from the Priests,
And they shall pray, and thou shalt curse in vain.

Sa.
Thither for Refuge shall Sabina fly,
Or virtuous live, or for her Virtue die.
Thou shalt, abhorr'd by Heav'n and Men, remain,
Detested die, and Death begin thy Pain.

(Exit.)
Tur.
Amaz'd I see, and terrify'd I hear,
And had she longer stay'd, she had prevail'd.
With Joy and Wonder I beheld her first,
And thought her Heav'n, but now I find her Hell.

Er.
You'll find her mortal, folded in your Arms.

Tur.
'Tis thou hast rais'd this Tempest in my Breast.
From thee this Love, from thee these Tortures spring.
Slave! give me back my Heart, restore my Peace.
How hast thou dar'd to kindle such a Flame,
Destructive to thy self, to her, to me?

Er.
She flies to be pursu'd; the Sex's wile;
Resolve to execute what I propos'd.

Tur.
If 'tis a Crime to force this haughty Maid,
Her Captive Father shall pertake that Crime,
He shall compel her to obey my Love,
And send her well attended to my Bed.
Her Eyes inflam'd my Heart, but their resistless Rays
Subdu'd my Mind, diverted my Resolves:
Enter O Brien.
My Courage by her Absence is restor'd,
And now the Lover shall be gratify'd,
The King obey'd.
Thou shalt obey; I will display my Pow'r,
[to O Brien]
And exercise the Right; which Conquest gives.

O B.
And who disputes that Right? my Empire's lost,
My Fate has so ordain'd, and I submit.

Tur.
In other Thoughts thy Daughter has been train'd,
In other Language she requites my Love.

O B.
She too acknowledges her captive State,
And will obey what Virtue will permit.

Tur.
Virtue again! art thou infected too?
And must that Phantom still oppose my Joys.
Hast thou imbib'd such slavish Notions too?
Not yet rejected the Device of Priests?

O B.
When Fortune smil'd, and left no room to wish
This Land then blest, and I the Sovereign Lord,
Virtue and Honour I had still in view,
And so instructed her.
Now of my Crown, of Empire dispossess'd,
In virtue still I find a blest support,
And borrow Strength from thence to bear my Griefs.

Tur.
Then give attention to this firm Decree.
Hear how that Virtue shall be recompens'd.
Choose fifteen Maids, select with nicest Care,
Fam'd for their Beauty and of noblest Blood,
Conduct them to my Camp: my favo'rite Friends,
My Partners in the Toyls of War, shall share
With me the Joys of Love.

O B.
How! what say'st thou?

Tur.
Let them be sent this Night.
My eager Love admits no more delay.

O B.
Its possible? sure I mistake your Words.

Tur.
Thy Daughter, my Sabina must be one.

O B.
My Daughter!

Tur.
Thy Daughter too; she shall ascend my Bed.

O B.
You can not purpose so abhorr'd a deed.

Tur.
Fix't, as thou fanciest the Decrees of Fate.

O B.
What send my Child! must I, must I do this?

Tur.
Send her this Night: or, by to morrow's Dawn,
Prepare to see a Scene of general Ruine.
By Empire, Fame, by all I hope in Love,
Men, Women, Children shall to morrow die.
First we will satiate our Desires, and then
They die; in Torments exquisite shall die.
Nothing that breaths the Air throughout the Land
Shall live; I will not leave a Dog to howl.

O B.
Monstrous, monstrous!

Tur.
I will not bear Reply.
My Passions are alarm'd
And combat in my Mind,
Which shall be first obey'd.—
Send them without Delay;—
Fly to thy Altars, there implore for Aid,
While I enjoy my Heav'n, the lovely Maid.

[Exeunt Turgesius and Errice]
O B.

Enter Sabina and O Neill.
Sa.
My Father on the Ground! oh piteous sight!

O N.
How are you Sir!

Sa.
Wretch that I am, to see this woeful sight!

O N.
What has occasion'd this?

Sa.
Oh Speak! oh say you live and give me Life!

O B.
Forbear thy soft Complaints, leave me to die.

Sa.
Tell but the Cause,
That the sad Tale may end me too.

O N.
Good Sir arise! here in the sight of all
Your Camp, this posture suits not Majesty.

O B.
Why have ye stopt the Course of friendly Death?
[Rising]
Why have ye brought me back to hasted Life?

O N.
This Grief enfeebles you, makes you unfit
For our great Enterprise against the Dane.

O B.
The Dane! say'dst thou the Dane? Oh name him not!
Death, Ruine and Disgrace are in the Name.

Sa.
Oh my poor boding Heart! oh hapless Maid!

O B.
Why, why is Life so wretchedly prolong'd!
When ev'ry Day our Sorrows are encreas'd.
Life is a Curse, yet we are bound to live.
Death flies apace to seize the prosperous Man,
Slowly he moves when the afflicted call;
Nor may the wretched hasten his Approach;
Else with no sighs my dauntless Heart shou'd swell,
Nor shou'd unmanly Tears bedew my Cheeks,
Daggers and Poison I wou'd deal around
To Her, to thee, to me; we all wou'd die,
And save the Pains, the shame attending Life.

O N.
Your Fortune is severe; Subjects may grieve
And mourn the weight of the Usurper's Yoak.
But who can feel, who can describe the Grief,
The Rage of Kings depos'd by lawless Power.

O B.
Oh were that all! had I no other Cause,
How wou'd I triumph in Captivity!
In Prison laught, and shake my Chains with Joy,
And find sweet Music in the ratling Noise!
But my Sabina! oh!

O N.
Ha! what of her?

O B.
To force my Daughter to a Tyrant's Bed,
Make her the Sacrifice of impious Love!
Can the indulgent Father yield to this?

Sa.
Oh gracious Heav'n!

O N.
Furies! what do I hear?

O B.
Or see my People butcher'd in cold Blood,
Both helpless Infancy and feeble Age
Mangl'd and torn by the Tormentor's Art!
And can the King support the dreadful Thought!

O N.
Hell only can project so damn'd a Deed.

O B.
Such is the dire Command, so wills the Dane.

O N.
Oh Monster! Blood-Hound! oh incarnate Fiend!

Sa.
Oh ye blest Saints! oh Guardians of our Faith!

O N.
But we may yet prevent his curst Design,
To Morrow Night this Tyranny may end.

O B.
He will this Night, this Instant be obey'd.

O N.
Then let us Dye this Night; rush bravely on,
Prevent his Malice by a glorious Death.

O B.
Where there no more to apprehend than Death,
I am with Age so worn, with Care opprest,
My Crown regain'd now wou'd not please me much.
Alas! to Dye, to me were Happiness.
But who will then protect wrong'd Innocence?
Who for my People supplicate Redress?
Who guard Sabina from the victor's Rage?

O N.
Oh there I sink, oh there the Wound strikes deep!
My Heart empier'st with Grief can scarcely heave,
My Brain turns round and I grow stupify'd,
Sunk with my Sorrows, overwhelm'd with Cares.

Sa.
Unhappy wretch! was ever Fate like mine?

O B.
Oh my poor Child! and oh my bleeding Land!

Sa.
Oh my Dear Father! oh my injur'd King!

O N.
Oh my fair spotless Love! thee, thee I mourn,
Thy Sorrows swell my Breast and tear my Heart,
And hurry me to Madness and Despair—
Rush from your Dens ye fierce imprison'd Winds!
To viewless Atoms shake this pendant Globe!
Ye teeming Clouds rain flaming Sulphur down!
A greater Tempest rages in my Breast,
A fiercer Flame devours and burns my Heart.

Sa.
Yet there is Heav'n, yet there are Saints above!
Oh hear my Prayers, ease my afflicted Soul!

O N.
Guard her ye Pow'rs! guard her from brutal Force!
On me, on me pour all your Vengeance down!
Give to these hungry Ravagers my Crown,
Drive me to Exile, Misery and Want,
Let Cowards hunt my Life, destroy my Fame!
But oh Sabina! spare her Innocence!
Spare and reward the virtue you approve!

O B.
Give to your Sorrows Pause!—sure Heav'n relents,
And my good Angel has inspir'd the Thought.—
'Tis not impossible—it may succeed—

O N.
What may succeed? Oh shew the happy Way
Shew me the Road to Death, shew Liberty to Her.

O B.