 | The Conquest of Spain |  |
ACT the Third.
SCENE the Camp.Enter the Governour, Julianus, Antonio, and Alvarez.
Jul.
Thus far our prosperous Arms drive back the Invaders.
Antonio, Worthy Youth, let me Embrace thee;
Much Glory hast thou added to our Name;
Thy early Valour Fires my Aged Heart;
Again my Blood renews its sprightly round,
When I reflect thy Veins run full of it.
Ant.
Who wou'd not lose the last dear ruddy Drop,
To merit praise from mighty Julianus?
But I, of low Desert, unknown to Fame,
Must Blush to be Commended.
Gov.
Now by the watchful Genius of lov'd Spain,
Throughout the Warlike course of Threescore Years,
I sware I have not seen such forward Virtue:
And to confirm thee, Youth, my Labouring Thought
Does not alone produce the wind of praise,
In confirmation of my Thoughts of him,
I offer, what to me of all the World
Is far most Dear, my Child, my only Daughter:
The flattering Court has call'd her Fair, of that
Be you the Judge; and this bold Truth I promise,
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The Richest Maids in Spain.
Ant.
Delia has every Grace, is all Perfection,
Beyond what my unpolish'd Words can speak:
Yet the vast Honour Antonio must decline,
Nor offer there a Heart already fill'd
With the soft Charms of a young trusting Innocence;
Whom to betray wou'd stamp me for a Villain,
Blast all my Life to come with foul dishonour,
And soil the Lustre of my future Actions.
Gov.
Again let me Embrace thee, generous Youth,
This freedom binds me yet more firmly thine;
Tho' not my Son, my Friend I'll ever call thee.
[Trumpets sound.
Jul.
Hark! we are summon'd hence, the Trumpets call,
And Spain's important busie Hour draws nigh.
Remember, Fellow Soldiers, our great Cause;
We for our Mother Fight, our Native Country:
What Coward wou'd not Arm in such Defence?
The Invaders seem the cursed brood of Hell,
Distinguish'd from the rest of Human kind
By horrid Black, the Emblem of their Souls.
Oh! Friends, can ye have Patience to imagin
Your Wives and Daughters made a Prey to these,
And not boil o'er with manly Indignation?
Our Women fear to look upon the Monsters,
Yet must become their Slaves if we are Vanquish'd;
Slaves to their Pride, and to their Brutal Pleasure.
Our guilded Pallaces, and pleasant Gardens,
Will then be made a Kennel for these Dogs;
Whilst we with fruitless Rage, and idle Grief,
Behold our Temples Sack'd, and Rites Prophan'd.
By Heaven I'm pleas'd, for sure, methinks I see
A chearful Eagerness in every face.
Come on, the Charge is sounded, all's at Stake;
[Trumpets sound.
Be Valiant and we'll drive these Africk Fiends
Back to their scorching Sun and desart Sands.
Again! we come. Remember, Fellow Soldiers,
[Sound again
Religion, Liberty, and Deathless Glory.
(Exeunt all but Ant. and Alv.
Ant.
Is not Jaquez yet return'd from Court?
Alv.
Not yet. I wonder much at his delay.
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My Friend,
To thee let me complain and own my weakness,
How my Heart beats for the dear absent Mourner:
Amidst the hurry of this Warlike Day
Love will be heard, and Margaretta Sigh'd for.
My Soul is full of tenderness. If I fall,
As none is certain in the hour of Battel,
I beg thee to regard my Beauteous Wife;
Defend her Cause for thy Antonio's sake,
And let the Dear unborn possess my Fortunes.
Thou art a Witness of our happy Nuptials,
And can'st at leisure tell the General all.
Alv.
Away with these ill Omens:
Impartial Fate will Crown your Matchless Vertues,
Conquest, Life and Love all wait your Wishes,
Nor doubt my Faith, for I'm wholly yours.
Ant.
'Tis well: Now to our Troops, my Alvarez,
We'll not again Embrace till flush'd with Victory.
Alv.
These Martial Sounds fire my high wrought Blood,
And animates my Soul to Death or Glory.
[Trumpets sound.
Ant.
Oh! Love, be thou Propitious to my Prayer,
Be Margeretta safe I nothing fear.
Enter Jaquez.
Jaq.
I think 'twas here, before the General's Tent,
My Lord Commanded me to wait his coming:
In every thing I have obey'd his Orders;
Antonio's and bright Margaretta's Letters
With care I have sunk deep in the swelling Flood.
How this will aid my Lord I cannot guess;
But 'tis enough for me, I have obey'd.
Re-enter Alvarez with his Sword drawn.
Alv.
From the loud Shouts of Victory I fly
In search of the kind Oracle of Love.
My faithful Jaquez, welcome to my hopes:
Say, hast thou done as I directed thee,
And poyson'd lovely Margaretta's Soul.
Jaq.
I have; and left her Pale with anxious Thoughts:
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They're safe at bottom of the rapid Stream
That parts the City and the Camp.
Alv.
Blest News!
But now my artful Engine we must haste,
The mighty Ballance is already turn'd,
A glorious Conquest hovers on our side;
If I not see her e'er Antonio reach her,
All my vain Cobweb Arts will be unravell'd.
Stay near this place, and when Antonio sees thee,
For he with fond Impatience seeks thee out,
Tell him his Wife was busie with the Ladies,
And had not time to write, but wish'd him safe;
Perhaps this may abate his fierce Desires,
And keep him here 'till I have gain'd my Ends.
Jaq.
I shall be careful.
Alv.
To redeem this stay,
I'll to the Battel, where the Cowards fly
Like scatter'd Leaves before the driving wind:
The General and his brave Veteran Bands
Are almost wearied with destroying. Hark!
That seems the Voice of an intire Victory.
[Trumpets sound.
Away, be diligent, and wait my call.
[Exeunt severally.
Some Moors cross the Stage as flying. Enter Mullymumen and several Officers.
Mull.
Descend thy Sphear, thou burning Deity,
Haste from our shame, go blushing to thy Bed;
Thy Sons we are, thou everlasting Fire.
We who are stamp'd with thy own gloomy Seal,
Which the whole Ocean cannot wash away,
Shall these cold Ague Cheeks, these smooth white Skins,
Whom Nature Moulds within her winter Cave,
And with a Palsie Hand paints o'er for show,
Shall these make us recoyle?
1 Officer.
Did we for this leave our Rich Africk Shoar?
With Troops innumerable as our Sands
March'd we unwearied o'er the barren Earth,
Hungry and Faint, yet with unbated Courage,
To be at last destroy'd like swarms of Insects.
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Where are we rang'd from our defeated Bands?
2 Officer.
We seem to be among the Generals Tents,
Where we may view the Luxury of Europe,
And Curse our shameful Lot.
Mull.
Ye partial Powers!
What have these gaudy things, this puny Brood,
To do with War and Fame?
Enter a Moor.
Moor.
Oh! Mighty Prince,
If you wou'd guard your Life, fly hence with speed:
But for the heaps of Slain that barr their way,
E'er this you had been lost.
Mull.
Be dumb, thou Coward;
Nor dare to whisper thy unmanly Fears;
Turn from thy guilty flight and follow me:
Tho' now I cannot lead ye on to Conquest,
I yet can show ye how to Die.
1 Officer.
Along, our Hearts are ready for the Sword,
'Tis Glory that we fall with Mullymumen.
[Exeunt.
After several Tunes of Victory, Enter Julianus, Governor, and Theomantius, Alvarez, and several Moors Prisoners.
Jul.
Add to the chearful Shouts of Victory
The pleasing News that Theomantius Lives:
When your tir'd Voices flag, that welcome Sound
Will give new Breath to your reviving Joys:
My Theomantius lives; again, repeat it
Till Rocks and Streams catch the rebounding Eccho;
Till Winds in gentle whispers greet Jacincta
With the glad Tidings that her Lover comes.
Think not, my noble Warriors, your neglected;
I swear you Fought like the true Sons of Fame,
Like Spain's blest Guardians, Bullwarks of your Country.
But give me leave to ask this worthy Youth
By what strange Miracle he was preserv'd;
My Soul longs to be feasted with the Story.
Theo.
Oh! 'tis too much, I can't deserve this Love:
But you are Jacincta's Father, kind and good;
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Jul.
No more of this, but say how you escap'd
The fury of the Moors.
Theo.
Sent by the King
With a bright train of eager youthful Warriors,
To guard the Coast, and drive the Invaders thence;
Not guessing half their Power we went too far,
And soon appear'd an easie destin'd Prey,
A trifling handful to their Numerous Bands.
The old Soldiers, of which we had not many,
Councell'd a safe Retreat, but were not heard.
The fiery Youth that rashly long'd for Action,
Who, fond of Fame, were prodigal of Life,
Rush'd heedless on the Foe: I blushing own
My self the foremost in the mad Attempt.
The subtile Moors gave our fierce Courage way,
And saw us fledge our Swords with many Deaths,
Till by the Wile we were encompass'd round.
Nor had we room to Fight and Fall like Soldiers,
But smother'd by the press of barbarous Slaves;
My self was found among the Spanish Youth,
Imagin'd Dead,
But lifted to the Air my vital Breath return'd.
Jul.
Blest be the great auspicious Power that sav'd thee;
I am all wonder.
Theo.
Soon they confin'd me.
For what Cause I was preserv'd, I knew not:
My wretched State deny'd all means of Comfort,
No way was left to let you hear I liv'd;
Yet I bore all in hopes of this kind Hour,
In hopes once more to fight by Julianus;
And once again to bless my longing Eyes
With fair Jacincta's Form: And Heaven was Gracious:
The Day of Battel came, and Fears fell on them:
In their confusion I was left unguarded,
I snatch'd the blest occasion and escap'd:
This Sword I borrow'd of a dying Soldier,
To whom it was a useless Burthen grown,
With it I forc'd my way through the vile Crowd
Who trembling fled from your Victorious Arm.
The rest you saw.
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I found thee by my side,
And thought it was thy Genius fighting for me:
But trust me, Youth, I have not felt more Joy
Than when I grasp'd thee in my Iron Arms,
And found it was indeed my Theomantius.
Theo.
Oh! happy change; my Soul is full of Bliss;
My Country sav'd, and by my noble Father;
Long have you given me leave to call you so;
And on that Name eternal Joys depend:
The nicer Forms of awful Love are past,
And my Jacincta now will glad my Heart
With most sincere Rejoycings for my Safety,
Jul.
She will, my Son, for she has wept thee truly;
Grown mad with Grief, that scarce cou'd my Command
Keep her from Desperation.
Theo.
Oh! Lead me to her.
Trumpets sound. Enter Antonio with Mullymumen and several Officers Prisoners.
Ant.
Health to the General, and endless Glory,
And may the Foes of Spain be still like these,
Disarm'd and Bound, unable to destroy.
The War is at an end, fierce Mullymumen,
Who first urg'd this Invasion, is your Prisoner,
And waits your Pleasure.
Jul.
'Tis well, my noble Kinsman,
Thine was the Act, and thine be the Reward;
The King himself shall thank thee for this Service.
But seest thou here, Antonio?
Ant.
Theomantius!
Theo.
My dear Antonio!
[They Embrace.
Jul.
Raise thy dejected Eyes, thou haughty Moor,
Ill wert thou fitted for the doubtful Field,
If thou disdainst to bear the Chance of War:
Be not dismaid, the King may spare thy Life,
And leave thee to repent thy rash Ambition.
I'll not upbraid thee since thou art in Bonds,
But treat thee like a Soldier.
Mull.
I would thank you,
But Hatred and Despair restrain my Tongue.
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A thirst of Glory urg'd me to the War:
This curst Defeat has made me hate your Country:
The Legions I have lost I wou'd revenge:
With burning Envy I behold thy Virtue.
Even our Complexions are more near ally'd
Than are our Souls.
Jul.
No matter, surly Prince.
Here, Guard them well, yet be your usage gentle;
Teach them the difference of our Christian World,
And force them to forget their brutal Tempers.
[Exeunt the Moors Guarded.
Enter a Soldier.
Sol.
My Lord, a Messenger from Court desires admittance.
Jul.
Quick let him Enter.
[Exit Soldier.
Enter Lodovicus.
Lod.
The King, great Julianus, greets you well,
His waiting Scouts have given him an Account
Of the Success of this Victorious Day:
He thanks the Soldiers for their Loyal Courage;
And his large Donatives shall well reward them,
Besides the Plunder of the Africk Tents,
Which he most freely gives them.
Jul.
Sent he thee
With needless Orders to direct the Soldiers?
The King shall be obey'd, it is my Duty;
But sure he'll leave the Discipline to me.
Lod.
Then 'tis the Will of Potent Rhoderique,
That you Decamp not far from hence, my Lord,
No nearer to the City as your Loyal,
Nor once approach the Court, till his Commands
Have given you Licence.
Jul.
I think we shall not, Sir.
Go bear this Message to my Royal Master,
I'll not dispute his Pleasure, but obey.
Lod.
Next—
Theo.
Have you more Orders?
Lod.
Next, he requires the Prisoners they be sent him;
The Castle there is stronger to secure them.
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The King shall have them with convenient speed.
But pr'ythee do thou leave us; 'tis most strange,
There's something in thee which offends.
Lod.
Farewell.
[Exit bowing.
Jul.
My Prisoners! and not presented by my Hand!
What! not the poor Returns of Thanks and Praise
For all my Age has done! 'tis very hard;
'Tis my great Master's Will, and I submit.
Ha! what didst thou forget! unkind Old Man!
How cou'dst thou so neglect thy only Comfort?
I ask'd not of my dear Jacincta's Health,
The gentle Maid.
Theo.
Forgive my Fears;
Is my ador'd Jacincta then at Court?
Jul.
I left her there.
Theo.
Alas!
Jul.
Why sighs my Son?
Theo.
I know not, Sorrow often comes uncall'd.
Ant.
The General looks sad, let us revive him.
My Lord, I cannot bear to see you thus:
Disperse the Cloud that hangs upon your Brow,
Nor let the King disturb your sacred Peace,
Your Vertues cannot lose by his Ingratitude;
Not in Spain's ancient Annals can we find
A Chief like you, renown'd for noble Acts;
Fam'd Julianus, ever blest with Conquest,
The Soul of War and Darling of the Soldiers;
For you they'd sacrifice their Lives with Pleasure,
So wou'd we all.
Omnes.
All.
Jul.
Away, you are to blame;
Direct the Soldiers to obey the King,
It is their Duty, nor do I want their Service.
I pray you all retire,I wou'd be private:
Refresh your selves, and glad the wearied Army;
They want you.
Theo.
How can we consent to go,
And leave our noble General in Sadness?
Ant.
Rather let us disobey.
Jul.
I intreat you,
I have Business in my Tent, I'd write to the King.
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All Peace and Happiness be ever yours.
[Exeunt.
Jul.
Confine me from the Court; send for my Prisoners,
Are these the Honours I've thus hardly won?
Are these the Wreaths with which he decks my Brows?
How will my faithful Soldiers bear the Wrongs?
But I'm hush'd, for where's my boasted Loyalty
If with my Murmurings I upbraid the King?
Perhaps he means me Favour in this Business,
And to appear at Court so soon after this Action
Might, by the Crowd, be thought too Popular.
He is most wise, and I condemn my self,
For he has given me Safety in this Banishment;
Again my Prisoners may be safest there.
Be gone, repining Thoughts.
Enter a Soldier.
Sol.
My Lord,
A Moorish Lady, who has suffer'd Wrong,
Presses to your Presence.
Jul.
Haste and admit her.
[Exit Soldier.
I have a Daughter of that lovely Form,
Remembring her, more dear to me than Life,
Even all her injur'd Sex claim my Protection:
And when I have told my Conquest to the King,
My Child, my poor Jacincta then shall know
That, for her sake, I did a Pious Act.
Enter Jacincta disguis'd in a Moorish Habit, Veil'd and as weeping.
Thy mournful Look calls up Compassion in me;
Thou seem'st a Statue meant to express Despair.
Why kneelst thou? Art thou wrong'd?
Name me the hated Author,
And, tho' he be my Kinsman or my Friend,
Death shall divide him from us and revenge thee.
Jac.
Oh! my dear Father!
Jul.
Thy Father, who has wrong'd him?
Jac.
A great Commander.
Jul.
Under me?
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Above you.
Jul.
Who's above a General?
None but the King, the mighty Rhoderique;
He wou'd not wrong thy Father.
Jac.
What was Tarquin?
Jul.
An Imperial Ravisher.
Jac.
Such an one
Was in those Days a Monster.
Jul.
Pr'ythee be plain.
Jac.
Have not you, Sir, a Daughter?
Jul.
If I have not
I am the wretched'st Man that this Day lives,
For all the Wealth I have is hoarded in her.
Jac.
Then hear my Woes for that lov'd Daughter's sake.
Jul.
Rise and speak them.
Jac.
No, let me kneel still;
Such a Resemblance of Daughter's Duty
Will make you mindful of a Father's Love.
Jul.
Trust me, it shall:
So nearly does thy Voice resemble hers,
That see, already I have caught thy Grief.
[Weeps.
Jac.
Then call your utmost Reason to your Aid,
Arm you with noble Patience, and regard me.
Say your Daughter,
By some curst Hand was drag'd to Violation,
Think if you see her torn from her Apartment,
Her loosen'd Hair wound round the Villain's Hand,
Calling in vain on Heaven and her Father,
Her tender Bosom bruis'd, her Garments rent
With strugling to escape the foul Dishonour;
Think if you saw her kneeling on the Earth
Imploring Pity of those cruel Monsters,
More savage than the Beasts that hunt in Forests,
Think that you saw them bear her through the Pallace,
Deaf to her Prayers, her Tears, her Threats and Cries,
And yielded her up a Prey to raging Lust,
How wou'd you bear this Scene, or how Revenge it?
Jul.
Oh! 'tis too hard a Question to resolve
Without a solemn Council held within;
Where Justice, Honour and paternal Love
Might weigh this Wrong and guide my erring Rage.
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Say this was done by him you most revere.
Jul.
Thou shak'st my Soul as it were so indeed,
And not a Figure artfully design'd
To alarm my Thoughts, and move my aking Heart,
To a more tender sense of thy Misfortunes.
What canst thou Mean?
Jac.
See here the injur'd, ravish'd, lost Jacincta,
[Throwing up her Veil.
The blotted Relict of a ruin'd Maid;
Pity my Shame, and spare my faultring Tongue
The hated repetition of my Wrongs.
Jul.
Horror, Amazement, and Destraction seize me,
My Brain turns round, and my full Eyes run o'er:
Oh! quick prevent a Traiterous Suspicion,
Destroy the Embryo e're it grow too Powerful,
And name that Enemy to the King and me.
Why do'st thou pause?
Jac.
In pity to your Age,
That yet a moment you may calm your Grief,
With thinking o'er the Glories of your Life;
Your constant Valour and unshaken Loyalty;
The numerous Trophies of your active Youth,
And this last Triumph of your hoary Age:
For when you have heard who 'tis has done this deed,
You will repent the Honours you have won,
And wish unacted all your Toils of War;
Thus cruelly Rewarded.
Jul.
'Tis too much,
I cannot bear this torturing Suspence;
Name me the Villain and relieve my Doubts.
Jac.
The ungrateful King; 'tis he has wrought this Ruin:
The King, for whom so often you have Conquer'd,
Has all your faithful Services repaid
With brutal Wrongs, eternal Infamy,
And never ceasing Woe.
Jul.
Oh! gnawing Anguish!
Saidst thou the King? then all revenge is lost,
And we must bear our heavy load of Shame:
Tamely as Cowards I must bear this Wrong;
Nor once attempt to wash thy Stains in Blood.
Jac.
Oh! let the Grave receive me,
From the sad Eyes of an indulgent Father,
Whose Heart bleeds for my Sufferings.
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Rise Jacincta,
And let me pour my Soul, in Fondness o'er thee;
Down ye tumultuous Thoughts that rack my Brain.
It is the King, let that controul your Fury:
Alas! My Child, I had almost forgot
Thy Theomantius lives.
Jac.
Malicious Stars!
He lives but to augment my Sufferings;
Had he been dead, he had not known my Shame:
What tho' he lives, he never can be mine:
No more my Eyes with Pleasure must behold him.
From all the Joys of Life and Vertuous Love,
From all the Comfort which glad Nature yields,
The King, the Cruel King has cut me off;
Hatred and Rage have now possess'd my Thoughts
And all to come is Horror and Despair.
Jul.
O! Had I list'ned to thy juster Fears,
All had been well;
Into my Inner Tent retire a while,
Till I shall call thee forth.
Jac.
Let me go
From whence I never may again return.
Where shall I find a Place to shroud my Shame?
To Rocks, to barren Desarts let me fly,
To dusky Caverns, far from humane Sight,
To solitary Groves whose untrod Paths
Are dark and silent, as are those below,
Where gloomy Poplar and the baneful Yew
Compose a dismal Shade, fitting my Woes;
Where Bats and Owls build their aboding Nests,
And Adders crawl on the unwholsome Ground:
There undisturb'd let me indulge my Grief,
Till Death appears and brings me wish'd Relief.
(Exit to the Scene.
Jul.
Now let me think, tho' Thought be worse than Hell;
Suppose I shut this darling Rifled Maid
Within a living Tomb, some Pious Cloyster,
And bury my great Master's Fault in Silence;
So he perhaps may boast him of my Injuries,
And glory in the tame old Man's Destruction;
So, he might give a Loose to lawless Power,
Nor Wives, nor Daughters, be they young and fair,
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No, Ill proclaim his barbarous Violence,
Yet still preserve his Person and his Throne:
Amidst his Parasites I'll force my way,
Set all his numerous Crimes before his Eyes
And make him loath the Vices he has acted.
Who waits there? Let the Commanders enter.
Enter Theomantius, Antonio, Governour, Alvarez and Attendants.
Which of you all in this mistaken Croud
Hail'd Julianus happy. Oh my Friends!
There stands upon this narrow Space of Earth
A Wretch more curs'd, more press'd with Misery
Than ever yet your pitying Eyes beheld.
Theo.
Then Fate must be unjust and Spain ungrateful;
Thro' all the various Turns of busie Life,
Still have you trod the unerring Paths of Virtue.
Ant.
In War the great Protector of your Country,
In Peace the blest Example of all Good;
Then can you be unhappy?
Alv.
Oh ease our Hearts,
And let us know from whence this Grief proceeds.
Ant.
A swift Redress shall banish all your Cares,
And Joy shall be restor'd.
Gov.
If from the King
You have receiv'd a base Indignity,
As by his Messages we faintly guess;
Know, all the Forces are at your Command,
The Nation you've redeem'd is wholly yours.
Theo.
And Reason must be taught luxurious Rhoderique,
If he betrays he wants it.
Ant.
With our Lives
We will defend our glorious General,
Tyranny shall not reach him.
Jul.
Nephew hold,
That guilty Voice offends that leads to Treason,
Said'st thou I should not suffer Tyranny?
Alas, Alas, who can secure the Wretched?
It is not in the Power of Gracious Heaven
To heal my Sorrows, Oh perfidious King!
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Still keep your Prisoners spight of his Command.
Jul.
Oh! were that all, how calmly cou'd I bear,
How easily resign this high Command,
My sooty Prisoners and these useless Trophies;
Had all the Malice of inveterate Stars
Been only wreck'd on my devoted Head,
Had I alone sustain'd this shock of Fate,
Without a Murmur I had born the Load;
Had Rhoderique pursu'd me as an Enemy,
Confin'd me to a horrid loathsom Prison,
And gall'd me with vile ignominious Chains,
Yet I had born it all with constant Patience,
Sat down beneath his Wrath and bless'd the Tyrant.
But he has found a way to wound my Soul,
That from my aged Eyes draws Floods of Tears,
And from my Tongue extorts unwilling Curses;
I had but one weak Part, a beauteous Woman,
To whom Nature has been lavish of her Graces,
And Heaven given bright untainted Honour,
Which in her Fathers Absence—
Theo.
Ye Sacred Powers!
Guard my Jacincta's Virtue.
Jul.
No Power wou'd.
(Goes to the Scene, brings Jacincta in.
Here, fellow Soldiers, view this Fair undone,
This mourning shadow of departed Fame,
This bosom Treasure of a poor old Man,
Abus'd and blotted with foul Stains of Lust,
By the ungrateful King, in whose long Service
I am grown antient, wither'd and decay'd.
Behold her thus disguis'd to find her Father.
Theo.
Jacincta!
Are these the soft Delights I hop'd at meeting?
Wou'd I had died indeed among the Moors.
Jac.
Shame and Confusion choak my rising Words,
And Woes like mine are not to be express'd:
Oh! Theomantius, turn away thy Eyes
From viewing my Dishonour.
Theo.
Fair suffering Saint,
Forbid me not to gaze upon thy Beauties,
They and thy noble Mind are still the same,
Sublime and Chast, unfullied by the Tyrant,
40
Ant.
What now, Alas is Margeretta's Fate—
Alv.
Perhaps the same.
Ant.
Stop thy ill-boding Words,
And let us hasten and prevent the Tyrant.
Alv.
I lose my Aim, or I am there before you;
(aside.
You have forgot we are forbid the Court.
Theo.
What is it guards our Arms from just Revenge?
Come on, and let us rush upon the Tyrant,
Tear him from his voluptuous Seat of Power,
And show the Monster bare, the Beast of Rapine.
Ant.
The Curse of Spain and Burthen of the Throne.
Theo.
Oh lov'd Jacincta, thou art still my Wife,
As such I will revenge thy barbarous Wrongs,
Thy Godlike Father made thee mine by Promise,
And with the Ravisher's Blood I'll wash thy Stains,
Then take thee to my Arms.
Jac.
Forbear, forbear.
Nor ever let such Sounds approach my Ears,
Judge not so poorly of the lost Jacincta,
To think I'll bring Pollution to thy Bed,
With Sadness and the Grave I have made a Contract,
And with my Life alone my Griefs must end.
Gov.
Why seems our mighty General lost in Thought,
Since here are ready Hearts and Hands to serve you?
Theo.
Let us set free the Prisoners of War,
And joyn with them against the adulterous King;
He has abus'd the Royal Dignity,
And must resign the gilded Reins of Empire
To one more worthy.
Jul.
Hold that impious Breath,
What unseen Ills has headlong Rage brought on me!
When vilest Treason to my Face is uttered;
Tho' Rhoderique has acted most ignobly,
Yet still he is a King, and we his Subjects:
I urg'd my Wrongs, and meant that he shou'd know it,
By Fear and Shame to bring him to Remorse,
And guard his Royal Soul from future Crimes;
If I shou'd fail in this, which Heaven forbid,
I dare not lift my Sword against my Sovereign,
Much less shou'd any here, you are not injur'd,
41
While you retain your Duty to your King.
Theo.
I have no Duty now, nor no Allegiance,
My ruin'd Love calls loud for speedy Vengeance.
All that revere the glorious General,
And wou'd not see his Honour trampled on,
All that are touch'd with chast Jacincta's Wrongs
Follow me, and to the list'ning Soldiers
Let's speak our Resolutions.
Ant.
Thus with drawn Swords we'll seek the Ravisher,
While trembling Guilt the Source of Cowardice
Shall yield him to his Fate.
Jul.
Where are my Troops?
Have I no Power left to stay this Outrage?
My faithful Soldiers they will yet obey me,
And guard these thoughtless Traytors from Perdition.
Theo.
Not one will stir but to revenge their General;
Let them look on that lovely ruin'd Temple,
Where Innocence and Virtue sat inshrin'd,
Then bid a Whirlwind stop its giddy Course,
Or bid the Sea restrain its flowing Tide,
For these your Voice much sooner might command,
Than the fierce Rage of your offended Soldiers.
Jul.
Ha, by my Honour, which abhors this Treason,
My own Arm shall execute what they refuse;
Now let me find but one audacious Rebel,
That dares oppose my Will and aid this Madness,
I swear that Man whose Weapon's left unsheath'd,
My Sword shall find a Passage to his Heart.
Jac.
Oh hold my Father, Oh my Friends forbear,
Or rushing thus between the lifted Points
Let sad Jacincta find a Fate most welcome.
Theo.
Lovely Sufferer, 'tis thy matchless Charms
That fire thy Theomantius to revenge.
Come on my Lords, let's leave the General,
And shew our Cause was just by our Success.
(Exeunt all but Jul. and Jac.
Jul.
Why thus untimely didst thou bar my Fury?
Oh, my Child, thou Period to my Fame,
Thy Fate has every way undone thy Father.
Jac.
Then sheath your Sword in this unhappy Breast,
But do not look thus cruelly upon me;
42
All that my lifted Eyes and Hands implore,
All that I hope and wish is only Death;
When I am moulder'd into native Dust
All will again be well, the King be safe,
My Wrongs no more shall wake the sleeping Vengeance,
Rebellion shall be still as my Complaints,
Bury the hateful Story in Oblivion,
And Peace and Glory will again revive.
Jul.
Rise wretched Woman: no, thou hast much to do
Before the peaceful Grave receives thy Sorrows,
Thy gentle Power may yet prevent this Storm,
Thy Theomantius loves, then quick pursue him,
Calm his wild Rage, and I'll restrain the rest.
Ye Powers, why was long Life miscall'd a Blessing?
Why from a Train of glorious Ancestors
Was that rich Jewel Fame committed to me?
Why did I husband and improve the Stock
Ev'n to the highest Pitch of dazling Glory?
Unweary'd with my Toils, in youthful Spring,
In full blown Summer and in ripen'd Autumn,
Still the full Vintage came and crown'd my Wishes,
Not grizled Winter check'd the warm Pursuit,
But Oh, how vainly does the Heroe boast
That Honour which so many Dangers cost
So many Years, thus in one Moment lost.
Exeunt.
The End of the Third Act.
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