University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Enter King Henry, and Rosamond.
Rosamond.
And will you go?

K. Henry.
But for this Night, my Fair.

Rosamond.
This Night: how many Hours are in this Night?
How many Minutes in each tedious Hour?
Methinks I dare not trust thee from my Arms.

K. Henry.
Thou know'st, my Love, the solemn Vow I made:
I must do Penance at the sacred Shrine
Of Becket, ere I close mine Eyes in Sleep.
The Holy Father of the Church injoin'd it.
If I refuse, I draw upon mine Head,
Curses, Anathemas, and Execrations,
And all th'Artillery of angry Priesthood.
This once perform'd, I am thy own for ever.

Rosamond.
O let my Lord excuse my selfish Fears:
For what is Henry's Safety but my own?

K. Henry.
Why, we shall live to triumph over both,
This Traitress Queen, and fierce hot-headed Son.
But I forget them, while I view thy Beauty;
Sole Comfort adequate to kingly Care:
The soothing Freshness of the vernal Breeze,
The lulling Notes of dying Harmony,
The rapt'rous Calm of good Mens golden Dreams,
Bring not such balmy Quiet to the Soul,
As thy Sense-stealing Softness.

Rosamond.
Can my Love
Stray but a Moment, ev'n in Thought, from thee,
Joy of my Life, and Sov'reign of my Wishes?
Such Sighs as these within your Bosom heav'd,
Such lively Fondness sparkled in your Eyes,
Such tuneful Accents trembled on your Tongue,
When first transported at my Feet you sigh'd,
My Royal Captive, and there swore you lov'd.

K. Henry.
Thy Charms had caught me but some Days before.
Let me look back on that delightful Hour;
'Twas in an Ev'ning of the blooming May,
The Nymphs, and Swains, in rural Garb attir'd,
To the Pipe's woodland Strain, upon the Lawn,
In mirthful Freedom, join'd the sprightly Dance;
You shone superior 'midst the Virgin Throng,
Fairest among the Fair: Auspicious Fortune
Had led my Steps that Way: I came, I saw,
And, seeing, lov'd.

Rosamond.
Love, like a watchful Spy, surpris'd my Heart,
Well-fitted to receive the soft Impression:
Thy graceful Presence drew my wond'ring Eyes:
I sigh'd, but knew not twas a Sigh of Love;
I wept, but knew not that I wept for thee;
Till Nature by degrees inform'd my Heart,
And something told me I was made for you.

K. Henry.
For me, for me alone; those heav'nly Charms,
Had been dishonour'd by inferior Love:
Nature design'd thee for the noblest Conquest,
And, giving thee such Excellence of Beauty,
Wisely contriv'd a Blessing for a Monarch.

Rosamond.
And, of all Monarchs, only for my Henry,
Who shines distinguish'd 'midst a Trib of Kings,
As they among the vulgar Herd.

K. Henry.
Enough:
Be it my Glory to deserve thy Sweetness.

Rosamond.
Be it my Glory to repay thy Truth.

K. Henry.
How strong the Tie which Love himself has made!
One dear Embrace, and for this Night adieu!

Rosamond.

[Exeunt.