University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

The Three Giants enter.
Rumb.
Be sure, my honour'd lord, tho' now you stand
The first in power, and overlook the land—
Envy forecasts your fall in many a breast;
And some still dare to be your foes profest.

Galig.
It matters not—let Impotence repine;
Mine is a claim beyond the royal line.
By their own appetites the croud I sway,
And where Vice rules, Corruption must obey.
All wrath and turbulence will quickly cease,
And each man bear his proper load in peace.

Galig.
Saw you the princess Justice, as I bid?

[To Blund.
Blund.
My honour'd brother and true lord, I did:
But such a sudden fit possest her Grace,
I scarce durst look her Highness in the face.
She at your message turn'd all fiery red,
And hurl'd your princely present at my head.

Galig.
That truely savour'd something of unkind:
She has, 'tis like, some lover in the wind,
Some favour'd knight who waits within her call,
Haply to plot her freedom, and our fall.
Watch thou at hand; and if it shall appear,
[To Blund.
That such a foe hath found strange entrance here;
Give him this Writ, that, by supreme command,
Requires he instantly abjure the land.

Blund.
Now, and for ever, to my best,
I shall perform your high behest.

[Exit Blund.
Galig.
To-day I shall apply my utmost skill,
To bend this haughty Princess to my will.
But should I fail—mark thou—
[To Rumb.
Seize her this night in all her tears and charms,
And bear the struggling beauty to my arms.

Rumb.
I live the slave of your request;
Your will is done, when once exprest.

Galig.
Mean while assume thy province straight,
And gather in the taxes of the state.
It is a Voluntary List, you see—
[Gives a paper.
Expectants all, and what they grant is free.
Take thou their offerings with becoming grace,
And give to each, in lieu—the promise of a place.
Hope is the food on which Expectants live;
'Tis also all—we ever mean to give.

[Rumb. bows, and exit.
Gall.
Jillian, bright goddess! from thy sphere
[Knocking at the Tower.
Behold who waits, thine humble suppliant here.

Jill.
For what would my imperial master sue?
With Justice what has Ill-got Power to do?

Gall.
Reformed, to Justice fair I bow—
No more your sov'reign, but your subject now.
Come, taste the blessings that await
The empire of the Great.—

Jill.
There is a state I wish to gain—

Gall.
O speak it, and at once obtain!

Jill.
Procure the Virtues for my train.

Gall.
No such stern monitors we own,
Foes to the pleasures of a Throne!
Far other friends our thoughts employ,
Sons and daughters all of joy,
Where laughter, young frolick, and pastime invite,
To swim down the stream of redundant delight.

Jill.
Hence, wretch!—nor dare to violate mine ear,
With what 'twere worse than hell to feel, and almost death to hear.

Gall.
Proud maid! in vain my suit thou wouldst decline;
In spight of Heaven and earth thou art mine.
Elapsed is thine indulgent hour;
And since thou wilt not share my grace, be taught to dread my power!

Jill.
Away! I fear not any wrongs from you—
The wrongs I fear, are those I fear to do.

Gall.
Beware when next we meet!—Adieu.

[Exit Gall.
SCENE CONTINUES.
Jillian opens the door.
RECITATIVE.
Jill.
The coast is clear,
No Giants near!—
Go, love! and whisper in my Johnny's ear,
The coast is clear.

SCENE II.

Enter Jack.
They embrace.
Jill.
My Jack!

Jack.
My Jilly!

Jill.
Am I then so blest?—

Jack.
Do I then clasp my charmer to my breast?

Jill.
What means that sudden pale on that sweet face—
Thy trembling motion, and thy changing grace?—
What is the matter?

Jack.
Sooth, I cannot tell—
'Tis witchcraft, sure!

Jill.
I fear you are not well.

Jack.
A malady of sighs—a swimming kind
Of pleasant sense, yet sickness of the mind!

Jill.
Best call a doctor!

Jack.
O!—I'd first endure
A thousand deaths!—I could not bear a cure—

Jill.
But now suppose you were indeed half dead—
Which Heaven forbid!—and wounded on your bed;
What doctor would you send for?

Jack.
Ah! I feel,
Your breath could balm, your hand alone could heal—
And this puts to my mind a strong suggestion,
That you're yourself the naughty witch in question.

Jill.
Ah, Jacky! 'twill be found—I fear it will—
That you are full as great a witch as Jill;
And all the little skill I have to smatter,
Informs me this is love—

Jack.
Is that the matter?
That I do love, I do discern most clearly,
My mother, sister, and good neighbours, dearly—
But this is quite another thing!

Jill.
I know it—
For thus your Jilly sings, as said the poet.

Jack.
Ah, Jilly, never was a truer sonnet!
As sure as I am here, you've hit upon it.
And yet who would have thought a thing so grievous,
That one so sweet should be so much mischievous.

Jill.
Ah, Jacky! but that you're a simple guesser,
You might have seen you were the first aggressor.
And here I give you warning in this way,
That I will study all the hurt I may.

Jack.
Nay, I do find the same intention too;
And have as much revenge at heart, as you.

Jill.
Then let us to each other, maid and man,
Do all the loving mischief that we can.

Jack.
A match!—O Jilly! while your hand I'm feeling,
I tread the air, and dance along the ceiling.

SCENE III.

Blunderbore enters.
Blund.
Ay! Maid of May!—are these your tricks in June?
Methinks we've watch'd your waters to some tune.
You, whom we deem'd of mighty men the scorner,
Can dally with your lambkin in a corner!
A doughty Wight, I trow, to come a courting—
I fear me, spark, that we shall spoil your sporting.
This Trincum here—

[Shews the writ.
Jack.
What would the muttering loon?
Can't the great booby speak, without a spoon?

Blund.
Fair words would best become you in foul weather;
You'll find your gallantry is pluck'd a feather.

[Gives the Writ.
Jack.
O Jilly! here's a clap of cruel thunder—
It strikes at more than life, it rends the heart of love asunder.

Blund.
Come, master mine, no prate before you budge!
The word is, “Bag and baggage!”—Trudge, friend, trudge.

Jack.
Sirrah, no more, as you would scape chastising;
I know my business without your advising.
And but that Law and Magistracy's aiding,
I'd dash your numskull from its brainless lading.
Out of my sight.—

Blund.
The devil's in the elf.
Egad, I believe he'd eat me!—Sense takes care of self.

[Exit Blund.
Jill.
Ah, Jacky, my sweet Jacky! must we part?—
Woe fall the day, and woe befalls my heart!

Jack.
Comfort, my Love! it helps not to repine—
Theirs is one stroke; the next may soon be mine.
Could I but catch these rascals from the court,
I would not fail to show the country sport.

Jill.
Rather all wrongs ride on, all justice linger,
Than risk my little Hero's little finger!

Jack.
Tut, were that devilish Wand of theirs once gone,
I'd box 'em round, one down, t'other come on!
But that, hereafter—for the time will bear
But one heart-breaking sigh, and one short parting tear!

As Jack is going on the opposite side, Jill recalls him.
Jill.
Jacky, my life! I had forgot to tell—
Who knows but all, mayhap, may yet be well.
[Nurse enters.
Nurse, bring the sword—quick, fly!—
Ah, Jack! my terrors have again prevail'd—
For what canst thou perform, where all have fail'd?
Couldst thou, O couldst thou, but this weapon free,
All the world's Giants were but dwarfs to thee!

[Nurse gives the sword.
Jack.
When cradled in my infant swathe I lay,
Such feats as these I did esteem as play.

[Draws the Sword.
Jill.
'Tis out, 'tis out—the world is all our own!
Goodness and Justice, now, shall reign alone.
Fy!—seize the miscreants at their boards or beds;
And, in three chargers, bring me their three heads.

Jack.
Let not my Jilly be untimely warm,
Nor seek to punish where she may reform.
Sleep thou in peace, until the last extreme;
Nor strive to ruin, till we can't redeem.

Jill.
Jacky, thy nobler precepts own I must—
Though Justice is not always kind, yet Goodness still is just!

[Exeunt.