 | Rotherick O'Connor, King of Connaught |  |
ACT II.
Enter Dermond King of Leinster Strongbow Earl of Chepstow.Strong.
My Informations are good I'me sure, and you
Have Dealings under Hand with Rotherick.
Der.
Will you not hear me speak, I'll tell the Fact:
Cothurnus is my Darling only Son,
The day was fixt for him to suffer Death;
I thought my Letter might prolong his Life,
Till we were able to o'rethrow the Tyrant.
Strong.
Why was not I consulted all this while?
Come 'tis unfair, it is deceitful, base;
And I, nor mine, have not deserv'd this Usage:
Did I from England come, with Gallant Troops,
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Now by St. George, and his bright Sword I swear;
It were a Deed, that would be Justify'd:
To give you up a Victim to your Foes,
And leave your Land, a Heap of Desolation.
But why this mighty Care to save your Son?
Is it consistent with the Agreement made?
How can you fulfill your Sacred contract?
'Tis like you have forgot, that when you die
Your Kingdom must descend to me, and that
Your Daughter Eva was to be my Wife;
You put me off from Day to Day, Perhaps
You do repent you of the Bargain made?
I do not die for Love of her, nor all
The paultry beauties of your barren Land.
Der.
Believe the Word and Honor of a King:
Each Tittle I'll most Sacredly perform,
My daughter Eva is expected soon;
The Moment that she comes, the Priest shal tye
The holy Knot, and so unite your Hearts.
Strong.
Till when 'tis fit a Guard be set on you,
My Souldiers murmur, and my Friends give out,
Your cut-throat Subjects, have contrived a Plot
To Murder all of us, at Dead of Night.
Der.
Oh horrible! Rotherick has surely sent,
Some Traytor, to disperse the Seeds of Discord:
Between your Troops and mine.
Strong.
It can not be—
You only are to blame, and gave us Cause
To be uneasy, and mistrust you all:
Deceitfulness, is very deeply Rooted.
In each Corner of this wretched Isle,
Instead of Friendship, Charity, and Love;
You plunder, burn, and sacrifice each other:
And strive and fight, and gape for Revenge.
Der.
A horrid War, long Time has Plagu'd this Isle
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Their lawless Passions thirsting after Blood,
Have even Depopulated all the Land.
Nobility is no where to be found:
The base Plebean, Lords it over all.
Strong.
Such is the horrid fate of civil War,
Shame and Destruction, always Fall on those;
Who by their Factions are the Cause of Strife.
Enter Auliffe O Kinaude.
Wounded, Leaning on his Sword.
Der.
What means this Dreadful Sight! my Heart misgives me!
Kinaude! What makes you Bleed! Where's my Daughter?
Kin.
Death is not half so Terrible, as what
(If I have Life;) I have to tell you:
As we were guarding onwards to this Place,
By your dread Commands, Her Royal Highness;
A Party of two hundred Horse, attackt
Us in the Rear, some Miles we did retreat,
Tho' a Pace, not much faster than our Foes;
My royal Mistress, bid us face about:
And force the Enemy with Souldier's Hearts,
Much asham'd to see her Courage more than ours,
Our Souls push'd forward to the War:
At first we gain'd some Ground, and kill'd our Share.
But being over power'd, they cut us down
On the Field of Battle, all were left for Dead,
Except the Princess, whom they carry'd off.
Regan was wounded in our first Attack,
But when I search'd the Field, I found him not:
My woeful Story makes my Wounds gush out,
I'm Faint, I can no more.
(Dies.)
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Dermond, thy Crimes have been of horrid Hue:
Or Heaven sure, would never punish so.
Der.
Since it's Heavens Will, I'le try to bear it;
To loose my faithful Friend and Counsellor:
Death with his Iron Claws has done the Deed,
And no doubt, has robbed me too of Regan.
But then my Daughter, that goes through my Heart;
And pierces to my very Soul, Revenge,
Revenge is all my Cry, and all my Thoughts.
Strong.
Now whilst you're Warm, let's execute the Deed;
And march with all our Forces to this Tyrant;
Rescue the Princess, from his Hellish Arms;
Or sacrifice our Lives in the Attempt.
Robert Fitz-stephens, Henry of Mount Maurice,
And Fitzgerald, wait impatiently for Orders
On the Shanon's brink; give 'em but the Word:
And Connaught soon shall find it self o'rewhelm'd,
With blood and Slaughter, be honest to your Friends,
Intirely rely on them, be Firm
And stedfastly adhere to what we say;
No Danger can alarm our noble Breasts;
It is true Courage leads us calmly on:
We're Heroes if we conquer, if we die,
We'll die like Men.
Der.
Thy generous noble Soul
Raises and animates my drooping Spirits
Be witness all that's Sacred, here I swear.
Just, and inviolably to perform;
Each circumstance of what I promised you;
And at my Death, you reign sole King of Leinster.
Could we but relieve my darling Daughter,
The joy and Transport it would give my Soul,
Would make me quite forget all other Grief;
But oh, I fear the cruel Tyrant's Will,
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My only Daughter, and my only Son.
Strong.
These are but Words, lead on to Blows;
Leave Words to Women, if you'd crush your Foes,
Draw to the Head, with Zeal, the pointed Arrow,
Raise the Javelin, bring forth the keenest Sword;
And all the destroying Instruments of War:
Let Skrieks and Groans, the Musick of the Field,
In one continued Clamour, fill the Skies,
And cover o'er the Ground so high with Blood,
That Shoals of gasping, dying Enemies,
May float, and swim about, upon the Surface.
Der.
Thou Great, thou God-like! more than Man, thou Britain!
When once my Soul knows Fear, or shrinks from thee,
May I become the abjects, Wretch on Earth.
Oh could my Sword, but pierce the Tyrant's Heart,
The Dog, the Villain, Monster, Rotherick;
Oh! how I'de feed, and please my just Revenge,
And eagerly push on the Fiend to Hell.
Strong.
Lead on, let Fortune bring him to our
View, and leave the rest to us.
We'll Crown our Heads with one eternal Fame,
And blast his Laurels, with perpetual Shame.
Exeunt.
SCENE a Prison.
Enter Avelina.Ave.
This dark, this dismal dead of Night, so fills
My soft, my tender Mind with fear and horror:
I start and tremble, at each gush of Wind.
Catholicus at last is gone to Sleep;
May he Sleep for ever, dreadful Goaler,
Most cruel Persecutor of my Love.
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Does beat, and throb, and bleed in your Behalf:
Guard me you Saints, since Virtue is your care,
Reward my Love, and Constancy; give me,
Oh give me, to the Arms of that dear Youth,
Who when he dies, will joyn your Pious Quire,
And add a Lustre to your Heavenly Glories.
Why name I Death, I fear 'tis ominous:
My Nerves begin to tremble, and my Legs
Refuse to move, and lead me to the Prison.
Assist my Soul, shake off this Female weakness.
Give me a Hero's Heart, a Hero's Hand,
And all the barbarous cruelty of War.
Let me rush on, and beat down all his Guards;
Fly to his Arms, then be again a Woman.
(Exit.
Enter Cothurnus with his Sword drawn.
Cothur.
Take this Sword, and fight for Love and Liberty:
Those were his Words. The Slave was surely sent
By Avelina; this scroll of Paper,
Is the Pening of her lovely Fingers.
Reads,
‘Force through, I'll meet you at the Prison Gate,
‘The silent time of Night, 'twixt Twelve and One.
Then be it so, the Guards are all asleep;
But my retreat will never be secure,
Without I murther all that are my Watch.
Rotherick is a Tyrant, how can that
Justify the murder of these Wretches;
Tyred out with Labour, and with Duty:
They are Innocent, and sleeping calmly,
Scarcely Dream of Wounds and Horror, Blood and me.
There's self Defence, 'tis all I have to plead;
Oh no! my Avelina's waiting for me.
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Take care, and waft the Righteous Souls of those,
Whom my poor Hands are forc'd to push from Life:
Conduct them to that place of Harmony,
Where Bliss and Happiness; fill up the space
Of great Hereafter, and Eternity.
The time draws nigh, then hardned be my Heart,
That I may act the murthering, killing part.
(Exit.
(A Noise without, clashing of Swords and crying out.)
1 Guard.
Treason, Murder, Cothurnus is broke loose
Has forc'd the Doors, and will escape.
(Groans are heard)
Hard hearted, cruel Monster, Oh!
SCENE the Fields.
Enter Avelina.Ave.
Oh my weak Heart, the Noise points towards me,
And methoughts I heard them name Cothurnus.
Murder! what will this horrid Night bring forth.
Enter Cothurnus, his Sword bloody.
Cothur.
Who comes there?
Ave.
'Tis I, 'tis Avelina.
Cothur.
That's well. I've waded through a World of Blood:
Pray Heaven that we pay not for it all.
Come to my Arms my Love.
Ave.
With joy, I would partake of all your Fate,
Can drag the load of Life, or go to Death.
Guard without crys
1 Guard.
Treason, Murder, Cothurnus is escap'd.
Ave.
Oh Heaven's, we're betray'd, whither shall we fly?
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To Death my dear, 'tis all we have for it now.
That Fellow narrowly escap'd my Sword,
He knows I did design to take his Life,
'Tis therefore fair in him to push at mine.
Without
1 Guard.
This Way, I track him by his bloody Feet.
Cothur.
Go hence my dear, it is not fit that you
Should see me butcher'd by this Band of Soldiers.
Ave.
'Tis Death to part: Oh no! I'll stay and dye
Before I'll run, and leave you here alone.
I wish that you would go away with me,
A League from hence, I have a faithful Maid,
Whose Mother will protect me for some time;
Perhaps we'll meet an opportunity
Of joyning Forces, from your Father's Camp.
Cothur.
To save your Life, I'd venture any thing.
Ave.
For Heavens's sake, avoid this Place, let's fly.
Cothur.
For your sake, I will prolong my Destiny.
(Exeunt.
Enter Catholicus and Guards.
Catho.
Slaves, Villains, Cowards, fly and overtake 'em.
1 Guard.
The Day begins to break, I saw a glimpse
Of two in haste, who that way bent their Course.
Catho.
Fly then; who Kills them both, shall dye a Saint.
(Exeunt Guards
I'll follow after, as my Legs will let me.
By this, his Majesty's alarm'd; I dye
If they are not, secured, a woeful Night
T'will be for me; I'm almost out of Breath.
Exit.
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Cothur.
It is vain to Fly, the Camp's alarm'd,
And yonders Light foretels the coming Day.
Ave.
The Morn comes on apace, and I grow Faint,
Cothurnus, since you must dye, take me with you;
Or say you'll let me run upon your Sword;
How sweet were Death, if you would give the Blow.
Cothur.
Forbear, you know not how you wound my Soul.
Be happy still, and never think of me.
Your Father may have Bowels, and forgive,
So sweet, so soft, so kind a Thing as you.
I know my Doom, and I can die but once.
Enter Guards.
1 Guard,
We'll save the Princess, but the Villain dies.
Cothur.
Take back the Villain, I'll sell my Life full dear.
1 Guard.
Fall on, a horrid Death is his deserts.
Ave.
You Slaves, through me you come to touch his Life.
1 Guard.
So be it then; we're bid to kill you both.
Cothur.
Hold your murdering Hands, and save her precious Life.
1 Guard.
We'll spare her Life, if you give up your Sword.
If your so Cruel to deny her that;
Her Death will lie directly at your Door.
Cothur.
Promise me upon a Soldiers solemn Word,
You safely will conduct her to her Father;
And I will leave my Body to your Mercy.
Ave.
Trust not their Cruelty; with Sword in Hand
You'll make your Terms, and may spin out your Doom.
1 Guard.
Believe her not, you can't escape us now.
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Catho.
Give me a Javelin, I'll kill the Body,
And after put up Prayers to save his Soul.
Cothur.
Keep off, thou sack of Sin, my Sword is sharp.
I hate the World, and would not ease 'em of you
Ave.
Barbarous Catholicus, no Bowels left,
No drops of human Nature round thy Soul,
To save two tender Lovers from the Grave:
Thus on my Knees, with watry Eyes I sue.
Cothur.
Avelina rise, disdain to sue for Peace,
From one who is your mortal Foe and mine.
You Coward Guards come on, I live too long.
Ave.
Cruel Cothurnus, could you say too long,
When Avelina was so near your side.
Enter Rotherick and Guards.
Rothe.
Where is my Rebel Daughter, where's my Foe,
Who has so bravely broke the Prison Doors;
And whilst my Souldiers slept, with bloody Hands,
Has calmly made his Way, through Death and Wounds.
I am a Tyrant, cruel and revengeful;
Because I love my Country, and oppose
The Man, who gives up all his Land to Strangers.
Guards, Hue him, Cut him, Mangle him to pieces:
Hold, stay, his Father once I own'd a King,
And he his Son, might have some Princely sparks
of Majesty and Kingly Power about him.
Rash Youth, I will forgive your late Offence;
Put up your Sword: Oh, were your Father honest.
How could I hug, and take you to my Bosom.
Come hither Avelina, is it true
That you have such a Passion for this Youth?
Ave.
At first, in just obedience to your Will,
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Since which, each Day my Love is grown much stronger.
Rothe.
Why then it is a folly in your Father;
To oppose a Love that is so strongly fixt:
Come here brave Youth, and take her from my Hands
(Rotherick takes Cothurnus and Avelina's Hands)
Guards seize them both, I'll make them know my Power:
Go, let him lose his Head immediately:
No Words, Catholicus go see it done.
Catho.
I fly to execute my Master's Will:
Cothur.
Farewel thou Monster, Devil, Villain, Tyrant.
(Exeunt all but Rotherick.)
Enter Eva and Regan, his Arm in a Scarf, and Guards.
Rothe.
Whom have we here?
1 Guard,
My Leige Dermond's Daughter is taken Prisoner.
Of all the gallant Troops, that did attend her,
This is the only one was left alive.
Rothe.
You've done your Duty, and shall be rewarded.
'Tis plain I am a Favorite of the God's,
The only thing on Earth, I wish'd to have,
Was all vile Dermond's Race within my Power.
By Heaven she's Beautiful! her Eyes strike Fire.
And sets my Soul, in a continued Flame.
Lady, you are not half so much my Prisoner,
As I am your's, my Troops have conquer'd you,
That I may fall a Victim, at your Feet,
Cothurnu's Life is now within his Sister's Power,
He shall not Die, till she gives Orders for't.
What gloomy Thing art thou, with down cast Look?
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Let it suffice, I'm Dermond's faithful Friend;
An Enemy to thee, and all thy Race.
Rothe.
Most courteous Slave! civil, and obliging,
Assure your self, I shall reward you for't,
Some Days I'll study how I shall torment you:
Till when, you Guards, let him be loaded well
With Chains of Iron, till his haughty Soul,
Is humbled so, that he Speaks well of me.
Eva.
Know proud Tyrant, you and my Father have
A long Account, and you must pay for all.
Rothe.
Would I could meet him once, that we might Ballance.
I'd cut and mangle, all his foreign Slaves;
And justly give him, what he most deserves,
A cruel ignominious shameful Death.
By Heavens! I'd strip him of his Kingly Robes,
And like a Felon, hang him on a Tree.
Eva.
Go meet him in the Field, as if you were
A noble, brave, courageous Enemy;
Push forward, through the thickest of the Ranks,
And dye if possible, upon the Ground,
Your noble Heroes call the bed of Honour;
And so avert these Judgments, that must fall
Upon the vilest, basest, worst of Tyrants.
Rothe.
So!
Reg.
No such Blessings er'e can fall upon thee;
Thou art Nature's violent Convulsion,
Made by Heaven's command, to show the World,
What Ways it has of punishing Mankind,
When Wickedness doth call a Vengeance down.
Rothe.
Guards, lead that Wretch unto the Verge of Life.
Show Death, but give him Sustenance enough
To make him breath in spite of all his Threats.
Catholicus, that Female is your Care.
Preach off her Pride, and learn her to obey,
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Women like Coin, can never current be,
Without their stamp't with Glorious Majesty.
Exeunt.
End of the Second ACT.
| Rotherick O'Connor, King of Connaught | |