University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

A Nunnery.
Enter Pepin, Margaret, Abbess, and several Nuns.
Abb.
AIR.

Marg.
I'd rather (they so fond appear)
[Aside.
He shou'd be kill'd than tarry here.
[Aside.
To Suits, like this, you must not yield;
[To Pepin.
Your Glory calls you to the Field:
Your Soldiers will impatient grow;
Come, take your Leave, and let us go.

Pep.
Kind Mother, and ye holy Train,
It grieves me much you ask in vain:
Tho' prest and wishing much to stay,
As Glory calls I must away.

1st Nun.
Ah! if you go my Hopes are crost,
And ev'ry View of Comfort lost!
O! why will you to Dangers run,
And leave, in Woe, your gentle Nun?
The toilsome Office pray suspend,
Or else permit that I attend.

Marg:
Hah! holy Sister! what, so free!
Does with your Habit this agree?
Correction, Madam, here is due—

[To the Abbess.
Abb.
The Child has Yearnings, 'tis most true.
My Lambs are Young; and of my own,
In youthful Days, I've Wishes known.

Marg.
O horrid! monstrous! Wolves of Prey!
This House is Hell; no longer stay.

[To Pepin.
1st Nun.
We have unveil'd ourselves, we own;
But what are you, who throw the Stone?
Too nice t'admit in others Pow'r,
To taste of what yourself devour!
Such Airs but badly suit a Life
Of neither Widow, Maid, or Wife:
That something else, which you may name,
Gives no Monopoly of Game.

2d Nun.
I'll side with you, if you'll agree
To send a sturdy Spark to me.

Apart to each other.
Marg.
Agreed at once, there needs no more;
At least I'll send you Half a Score.

Apart to each other.
2d Nun.
My Rage I can no longer quell,
O wicked Sister, Fiend of Hell!
With hideous Schemes and filthy Brawling,
To Shame our chaste and holy Calling.
I shake at Practices so bad;
To see you punish'd should be glad.
Go, Sir; I beg with Speed you'll run:
Thou luscious Morsel for a Nun,
Bear all your Charms, your Witchcraft hence,
Nor give our Convent more Offence.

TRIO.
Pep.
I'll shew I'm a Hero, and raise this fond Siege;
My Glory, fair Sister, forbids to oblige:
And yet to depart,
Distracts my poor Heart,
O measure, by your's, my sad Portion of Smart!

Marg.
No longer then stay.

1st Nun.
O go not away!—

Marg.
Your Honour calls loudly—

Pep.
Well, well, I'll obey.
'Tis over, 'tis past,
This Look is my last!—

1st Nun.
Then Pain is my Portion and Misery vast!

Marg.
Her Viles to Dishonour your Heart wou'd ensnare.

1st Nun.
Believe me—

Pep.
Relieve me!—

All.
O Torture!—Despair!—

[Ex. Pepin and Margaret at one Door; the Abbess and Nuns at the other.
SCENE changes to the Boundary of a Camp, with a distant Prospect of the Town of Mennin.
Enter Constable, with a Train of Officers and Soldiers; the latter carrying Pick-axes, Baskets, Shovels, and Fascines, which they set down.
Const.
Behold the Town! disburthen here:
The King, I trust, will soon appear.
Lo! where he comes! then I resign
The Office he deputed mine.
Enter Pepin, Margaret, and Attendants.
Great Sir, assiduous to fulfil
Your Ever-just and Royal Will,
I have, while here the Sway I held,
Maintain'd due Order in the Field:
However, Puff, forgetful grown
Of all that Clemency you'd shewn,
Has dar'd arraign your high Decree,
Traduce my King, and menace me!
For which, 'till I could know your Mind,
I've order'd he be close confin'd.

Pep.
My Thanks for what you've done I give,
And now pronounce he shall not live:
Away, and tell the Rebel strait,
An Axe shall give him instant Fate.
[An Officer goes out.
He shall no more my Temper shock;
Do you conduct him to the Block:
[Another Offic. goes out.
And now, to purchase high Renown,
We'll, Constable, attack the Town.

Const.
I'm griev'd, amidst these noble Views,
To say there's come unlucky News;
That hostile Fleets sail'd out, by Stealth,—
And plunder'd all your Kingdom's Wealth.

Pep.
Damn all my Foes! mischievous Trick!—
Of warring, I shall soon grow sick.

Marg.
For why?—mind Glory not, such Trash:
What's it to you, your Subject's Cash?

Const.
Our Tradesmen beggar'd, Merchants broke,
Is, Madam, an unlucky Stroke.

Marg.
No matter; Moncy made 'em proud:
They're now to sure Obedience bow'd.

Pep.
AIR.

[After the Song, he takes a Pickaxe and strikes it into the Stage, and afterwards retires back in a Hurry.
Const.
'Tis in!—

Pep.
Aye 'tis, beyond all Doubt;
But let the Devil take it out.

Marg.
O glorious Labour! god-like King!
Of this shall future Homers sing.

Pep.
Why aye! our daring Foes shall find
That Pepin can amaze Mankind!—
Yet still another Toil remains,
O how the Thought my Ardor strains!
Fall back:—I would by all be seen;
And thus I throw the first Fascine.—

[Having thrown a Fascine from him, a Cannon fires at a Distance, and he falls flat on the Stage.
Marg.
How dreadful do the Cannon roar!—

Const.
Alas! our Monarch is no more!—
Run!, fly, like Birds of swiftest Wing,
And fetch a Cordial for the King.
[An Officer goes out.
Help, raise him gently up with Care,
Now chase his Temples—give him Air:
And, see! the Roses in his Face
All bloom anew with native Grace!

Pep.
Is this Elysium which I see?
And where my Friends still follow me!—
Inform me; did the fatal Ball
That kill'd your Monarch, kill ye all?

Const.
However stunn'd, permit we give
Our 'Gratulations that you live.

Pep.
Hah! Live!—do I survive this Feat?
[Rising.
Then Fame and Glory are compleat.

An Officer enters with a large Bowl of Punch.
Marg.
Come, drain this Goblet, at my Suit;
Your low-sunk Spirits 'twill recruit.

Pep.
Aye, well advis'd; and here it goes,
To Fame atchiev'd o'er all my Foes.—

[Drinks it off.
Marg.
Done like yourself! 'tis Vigour's Prop!—

Pep.
Support me, ah! or I shall drop!—
A sudden Qualm invades each Sense!
And Conscience—Conscience takes Offence.
Thou, Syren Fair One, hence remove,
And let me shake off guilty Love.

Marg.
What says my Pepin? Bid me go?
O barb'rous Hero, murd'rous Woe!—
What! bid me from your Presence fly?—
The Order's Fate!—Behold me die!—

Pep.
Die, do'st thou say?—untimely fall!—
First perish Pepin, Priests and all.
No; I've recover'd, chang'd my Mind!—
And swear for ever to be kind.

Marg.
[Kisses him.
AIR.

A dead March sounding, enter Puff, preceded by a Train of Officers, with an Executioner carrying an Axe; and followed by a Number of his Friends, all in long black Cloaks, as he himself is habited.
Puff.
AIR.

Pep.
He moves me much.—

Marg.
Compell'd I speak;
Forgive him, or my Heart will break!
If Justice urg'd the Doom you gave?
For Glory, now, let Mercy save.

Pep.
He has my Pardon! Puff, be free,
And share our happy Jubilee.

Enter 1st Nun.
1st Nun.
Resolv'd to be no more a Nun,
I'm from the Convent hither run.
Unruly Passions rage so high,
They must have Ease, or I shall die:
In Pity then asswage my Flame,
And I will bless your Royal Name.

Marg.
This Fury, prompt for ev'ry Evil,
Is sure the Off-spring of the Devil!
Sir, send her instantly away—

Pep.
What would you have me do or say?
The Woman's shameless, mad! I grant—
But 'tis from such a nat'ral Want—

Marg.
Hah! 'tis a lucky Thought enough!
[Aside.
Then to be quiet—give her Puff.

Pep.
To that I readily agree,
For one's, I find, enough for me.
Here, Puff, my Kindness to improve,
Be blest, at once, with Life and Love.

Puff.
O gracious Boon! my Fair One, can—

1st Nun.
O yes, I'm ready for a Man.
I hop'd to get the King, 'tis true,
But an inferior one may do;
And, for my Merits, why, thro' Life
You'll find me, Sir, a willing Wife.

BALLAD, in PARTS.
Pep.
Now blazing with Glory, and happy in you,
[To Marg.
We'll set out for Paris, so Flanders, adieu!

Const.
And we will attend 'on so god-like a King,
Your Triumph to Grace, and Te-Deum to sing.

GRAND CHORUS.
Join your Voices, swell the Strain,
Matchless Monarch! great Campaign!