The Rover ; Or, Happiness at Last

Boyce, Samuel

THE ROVER;

INTERLUDE II.

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2. INTERLUDE II.

SCENE I.

SYLVIA.
RECITATIVE.
All Nature seems in universal Glee;
How blithe the Songsters hop from Tree to Tree!
What vernal Fragrance scents the ambient Air!
Yet nought can soften my extreme Despair.
AIR.

Ye Warblers! no longer your liquid Throats strain,
No longer your Sonnets can please,
For such were the Sounds of the roving young Swain,
Who robs my poor Bosom of Ease:
When Phœbus makes Love in your little Hearts glow,
A Song can your Meanings declare;
The Sweets of the Passion untainted ye know,
And never, like me, feel the Care.

Tho' Blasts may destroy all the Flow'rets, that here
Perfume the pure Æther around,
Bright Spring shall again bid their Beauties appear,
And paint, as before, the gay Ground:
But when a poor Nymph's wrong'd of all she could boast,
And left to lament and complain,
Her greatest Charm's gone; when her Virtue is lost
No Spring can renew it again.

The Riv'lets run purling along the cool Mead,
To sooth me in sorrowful Tone;
The Zephyrs, affectedly, onward proceed
To waft the Deceiver my Moan.
Ye Powers! who govern the Works ye have made,
Relieve the deep Woe of my Mind;
As Sylvia through Pity alone was betray'd,
In-pity let Colin, be kind.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Strephon,
discover'd sitting thoughtfully.
AIR.

Man was in Paradise unbless'd,
No social Bliss he knew,
'Till God-like Woman stood confess'd,
Cœlestial to his View.
With Awe he gaz'd, with Joy admir'd,
His Maker's best Decree;
Delights unknown his Bosom fir'd,
And Love his Tongue set free.

In ev'ry Age, in ev'ry Clime,
The Sex is still renown'd;
They raise the Soul to Heights sublime,
And all the Passions bound:
Like bright Aurora's genial Beam,
They gild the anxious Mind:
And Love and Beauty reign supreme,
To charm and bless Mankind.

RECITATIVE.
Ah, loitring Youth! why idly thus proceed?
The flying Minutes shou'd have better heed.
(Rising.)
But Colin comes, he looks in great Concern,
I'll wait awhile the bad Mishap to learn.

SCENE III.

To him, Colin.
COLIN
(Not perceiving Strephon.)

I, who was once the Glory of the Plain,
The blithest Youth among the Rural Train;
Who defly on my Oaten Read cou'd play,
To chace the ling'ring Summer Hours away;
Who cou'd so well the shifting-Trip advance,
And was the Nimblest in the sprightly Dance;

Who laugh'd at all the Power of the Fair,
And ridiculed each Shepherd in the Snare,
Alas, am caught! Oh, sad Reverse of Fate!
Will any sympathize my hapless State?

AIR.

No more shall Eccho o'er the Plains
Repeat my mirthful Song;
Nor vocal Hills the tuneful Strains
Of mellow Pipe prolong:
For Oh, my Heart, so wont to stray,
Is past recalling flown away,
And Love at last enslaves me.

How oft' in yonder conscious Grove
I've woo'd each blooming Fair;
How oft' wou'd Fate propitious prove,
And Silence bless me there:
But now no more such Scenes endear,
I sigh for Raptures more sincere;
For Love at last enslaves me.

RECITATIVE.

Ah, what will Strephon say when once he knows it?

Streph.
Lovers are blind, it seems, this plainly shows it.

Colin.
By Heav'n he's here!

Streph.

What Colin made a Tool?
Who'd be a Slave to Cupid, but a Fool?
“Ha! ha! no, I defy the brightest Fair
“To give my easy Heart an Hour's Care.”
Where's now your boasted Fortitude retir'd?
Where's that Indiff'rence, you had long acquir'd?
Behold the lawless Youth, so fam'd Abroad,
Who made his vicious Appetite his God,
Who cou'd so close his false Intentions cover,
At last a simple, sighing, whining, Lover!

AIR.

The subtle Fox thus makes
The cackling Brood his Prey,
And, as he finds the Treat,
Repeats the Crime each Day:

But for the wily Thief
A cunning Gin is cast;
And, tho' he long escape,
Sly Reynard's trapp'd at last.

RECITATIVE.

“Farewell, poor Youth! indulge your Melancholly,
“And may the scornfull She correct your Folly.”

Colin.
Stay, Strephon, stay, I own I mock'd your Flame,
But ne'er suspected I shou'd know the same.
Your wonted gen'rous Temper let me see,
Nor copy, Shepherd, what was wrong in me.

Streph.
Colin, thy ill-tim'd Jokes displeas'd my Ear,
Yet still I thought them trifling,—as they were.
I can partake another's Grief,—'tis true,
And therefore pity all, where Pity's due.

Colin.
In thy Advice, my Friend, I balm shall find,
To heal the Anguish of my Love-sick Mind.

Streph.
Why will this doleful Manner win thy Dear?
In Wisdom's Garb thy Passion shou'd appear.
The whining Woo'r the Nymph to smile may move,
But 'tis the Youth of Spirit gains her Love.
Be rul'd by me, the gentle Warmth I know,
Long have I felt it in my Bosom glow,
Submit with Patience, scorn a Sigh tho' cross'd,
Nor in the Lover, let the Man be lost.

Colin.
Thy Love is mod'rate, mine's a raging Fire.

Streph.
A certain Sign 'twill very soon expire.
What Damsel has this fatal Conquest made?
Sure she's in more than mortal Charms array'd!

Colin.
Oh, she's an Angel! but her Name I'll keep
Silent as Nature when lock'd fast in Sleep:
Tho' I for thee from that Resolve cou'd swerve,—
Yet, for the Present let Description serve.
AIR.

When yon bright Beam, the Source of Day,
Which decks the verdant Landskip gay,
Is rising from the Eastern Skies,
View that, and see her radiant Eyes.

When Philomela tunes the Air,
Attend, her thrilling Voice you'll hear:

Smell all the fragrant Flow'rs in bloom,
Such is her gentle Breath's Perfume.

Like this uncultivated Scene,
The Beauties of her Face and Mien
Excell the strongest Force of Art:
No Language can her Charms impart.

RECITATIVE.
Streph.
She must be heav'nly! but I always thought
Thy Heart cou'd never be by Beauty caught.

Colin.
Tho' she's as Venus fair, as Pallas wise,
A much superior Grace made me her Prize.
Virtue, tho' claim'd by most, so seldom found,
I long imagin'd only empty sound,
But I in her beheld its real Pow'r:
And must for that the matchless Nymph adore.

Streph.
That can give Light through all Deformity,
But how had it such great Effect on thee?

Colin.
I'll tell thee Swain: with each inticing Art
I try'd to make her Virgin Whims desert;
She seem'd well pleas'd to listen to my Tale,
And flatt'ring Smiles assur'd I shou'd prevail:
Yet, when I thought she'd be no longer coy,
And every Sense grew big with coming Joy,
The Ballance turn'd! her Virtue won the Day!
And who'd have been the Conq'ror, fell the Prey.

Streph.
I'm glad to hear it; such a Change as this,
No doubt will yield thee everlasting Bliss.
Baseness my very Soul with Horror strikes;
None but a Brute would ruin what he likes.

Colin.
Yet, Strephon, such a one I've long Time been;
Wild was my Hope when first this Nymph was seen:
But when 'gainst more than Human Pow'r I strove,
Each ruder Wish was melted into Love.

Streph.
Pursue her boldly, mean Endeavours shun,
Perhaps, in Honour, she may yet be won:
But if you find her not to be obtain'd
Contented, bear the Lot by Heav'n ordain'd.

Colin.
Whatever Strephon says I must commend.

Streph.
Colin adieu! Success your Suit attend!

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

COLIN.
AIR.

Ah! who can tell,
What Tortures dwell,
Within a doating Swain?
What Doubts and Fear,
In view appear,
When Passion burns in vain?

By Beauty charm'd,
We oft' are warm'd,
And sensual Wishes flow;
But Love refin'd,
Which fires the Mind,
A Few are doom'd to know.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

Strephon, Delia.
RECITATIVE.
Delia.
How can you thus persist to plague one still?

Streph.
Delia, I must my Fortune know, and will.
AIR.

This Heart (if I may call it mine)
Is fix'd eternally to thine:
If Constancy can claim Regard,
If Love sincere shou'd meet Reward,
Then sooth my ev'ry am'rous Care:
And be at once as kind as fair.

Although thy Form has magick Pow'r,
Thy inward graces touch me more:
Thy Sense shall live when Beauty dies;
Thy Wit shine longer than thy Eyes;
Tho' Age thy youthful Bloom may blast,
Thy more intrinsick Worth shall last.

What can the gen'rous Flame controul,
When Reason renders up the Soul?
Thy Charms which ne'er can fade inspire
My gentle Love, and soft Desire.
These Town-bred teazing Arts refrain;
Oh, please thyself! and bless thy Swain!

RECITATIVE.
Delia.
Strephon, of all whom Hymen has ally'd,
They fare the best, who Conduct make their Guide.
AIR.

A prudent Nymph shou'd try
The Passion of her Youth,
Nor on his Vows rely,
Till Time has prov'd his Truth.

But, ah! we all are weak,
And to the Flame resign;—
Forgive my glowing Cheek!
I'm thine and only thine.

RECITATIVE.
Streph.
Oh, Delia! Delia! Words can't speak my Bliss,
Be gone my Fears! what Extacy is this!
Boast, boast, your Joys ye lawless ranging Crew!
They're stupid all! compar'd to mine in view!
When shall the wish'd-for Knot be ty'd?—reveal.

Delia.
To-morrow then.

Streph.
Let this the Promise seal.

(Kisses her.)
DUET.
[Streph.]
Whilst, wanton, on the verdant Plain,
Our snowy Flocks shall play,
I'll tune my swelling oaten Read,
To please thee all the Day;
Or speak of some fond hapless Youth,
Who vainly draws each Sigh;
Then snatch perhaps a tender Kiss,
And say how bless'd am I.

Delia.
If e'er, in am'rous Talk, you tell
The Tale of some poor Fair,
Decoy'd by an ungentle Swain,
To Shame and deep Despair,
While Pity in my Bosom moves,
I'll cast a Smile on thee;
Then thank the kind propitious Gods,
Who made so happy me,

Streph.
At Noon-Tide, when faint Nature pants,
With Sol's excessive Heat,
Straight, to some thick-set Shade we'll hie,
And 'joy the calm Retreat:
There if a gentle Slumber shou'd
Thy wearied Senses take,
I'll softly steal my Face to thine,
And watch thee till awake.

Delia.
When dusky Clouds the Æther skim,
And vernal Show'rs descend;
When scarce a feather'd Warbler flies,
And none their Musick lend:
While shelter'd, in the leafy Scene,
Around our Lambkins lye,
I'll listen to thy Pipe or Song,
And cheat the gloomy Sky.

Streph.
When Phæbus does with golden Hue
The ruddy West adorn,
We'll penn our fleecy Care in Fold,
'Till next enliv'ning Morn;
And safe, within my circling Arms,
Shalt thou recline to Rest;
I'll screen thee from from the noxious Air,
Clasp'd to my faithful Breast.

Delia.
When Hills and Dales, with wint'ry Frosts,
Shall silver'd o'er appear;
When all seem dull, our Loves shall smile,
And glad us thro' the Year.

Together.
Tho' Time all Nature's Works can change,
Our Passion scorns his Pow'r;
Beyond the Date of Life we'll love,
Till Time shall be no more.

SCENE VI.

To them, Colin.
RECITATIVE.
Colin.
Protect me Heav'ns! what play a treach'rous Part?
Is this my Friend, who bore an open Heart?
A sly Design I thought thou wert above:
Know to that Nymph I dedicate my Love.

Streph.
That may be Colin,—yet I b'lieve she's mine.

Colin.
I'm much the better for Advice of thine;
I freely told her Charms, you guess'd the Maid,
And have in haste my Confidence repaid.

Streph.
Was that my Delia?—had you nam'd the Fair,
When you so kindly offer'd me your Share,
When puff'd in Self-Conceit she was your own,
You then from me your poor Success had known.

Colin.
Celestial Nymph! your humble Suppliant hear,
I bring an off'ring am'rous and sincere.

Delia.
Shepherd, your fond-dissembling now suspend;
I can no longer to your Tale attend.

Streph.
Colin, if Wisdom be no Foe to thee,
Incline, and hear the welcome Truth from me:
Month after Month have I this Maid ador'd;
Day after Day have I her Love implor'd;
This present Hour my happy Fate commands;
Our Souls are one, To-morrow joins our Hands.

Colin.
O monstrous! monstrous! it can never be;
Let me from here receive my Destiny.

(To Delia)
Delia.
If you had really Hopes my Heart to gain.
I gave not one, they were self-form'd and vain;
Long was it fix'd ere you pretended Passion,
And lik'd its Choice too well for Alteration.

Colin.
How strange is this!—it is!—it mast be true!

(after a Pause.)
Streph.
Are you convinc'd?

Colin.
Strephon, she is thy due.
What have I done? ah, silly, silly Swain!
How cou'd I hope such Beauties to obtain?
Do I deserve such Excellence, such Worth?
From Vanity the Notion had its Birth.
Hail happy Pair! but for each other meant.
For an Example you to Earth were sent.

My Flame in stronger Friendship shall expire,
And tho' I can't enjoy, I'll still admire.
AIR.

Oh, Strephon! every Joy will spring,
From Love's perpetual Fount on thee:
Small Pleasure Liberty can bring,
When Hymen makes us more than free.

RECITATIVE.
Streph.
Worthy a Shepherd is thy Sense express'd,
But, Colin, formerly—“'Twas all a Jest!”

Colin.
True, long I was a faithless wand'ring Swain,
And Folly saw me busy in her Train,
But, Strephon, when for thy bright Fair I burn'd,
I by her Virtue was a Convert turn'd,
Delia, thou Goddess! pardon each Essay
I try'd, to lead thee in the Wanton's Way:
You baffled all, my fruitless Wiles cou'd see,
And what I would have vanquish'd, conquer'd me.
O cou'd I find a Nymph that wou'd respect!
This honest Heart which justly you reject!

Delia.
Go seek her, whom your Falshoods have distress'd,
And banish'd Peace and Comfort from her Breast;
Implore a Pardon for the worst Offence,
And for wrong'd Innocence make Recompence.
A melting Story's whisper'd round the Plain,
Of a young Maid, woo'd by a youthful Swain:
She knew the Passion with a Warmth divine,
But he conceiv'd a fatal black Design;
And ruin'd her, whose Love was so sincere.

Colin.
Oh, Conscience; view that hated Monster here!

AIR.
Delia.
Think of the deep-felt anxious Cares,
Which ever wait upon her:
Think what a tender Soul she bears.
To love tho' you've undone her.

RECITATIVE.
Colin.
I'll seek her straight, for thine is Wisdom's Voice.
But see! she comes the Object of your Choice.

SCENE the Last.

To them, Sylvia.
AIR.

When from the Lark some Peasant takes
Her nestling Young away,
She pines and hovers round the Place,
Which held her little tuneful Race,
Where all her Comfort lay.

Thus am I doom'd to haunt the Swain,
Who once was all my Joy.
What can avail my pining Grief!
No Gleam of Hope admits Relief:
Ah, cruel, faithless Boy.

RECITATIVE.
Colin.
Much injur'd Nymph forbear nor tell thy Woes,
Through Sympathy, thy Grief my Bosom knows:
Sylvia, I own I have been much unkind,
False as the Stream, and fickle as the Wind;
But now I'll make Attonement for my Crime,
And fix'd to thee pass my allotted Time.
No more with Tears bedim thy radiant Eyes,
But in thy Face let blooming Pleasure rise:
From Sorrow ev'ry wonted Grace retrieve,
And, with a Smile, thy “faithless Boy” forgive.

Sylvia.
This sudden Change can never be sincere;
'Twere Flatt'ry to believe it so, I fear.

Colin.
Nay doubt me not, I can be false no more,
Indeed, my Sylvia, all my Folly's o'er:
Hearken, my Friend, and witness what I vow,
To-morrow (if the Gods my Life allow)
With this dear Nymph, I will in Wedlock join;
So, Strephon, shall thy Wedding-Day be mine.

Streph.
Heav'n must an Act so generous approve.

Colin.
From them, my Fair, we'll learn to live and love.

Sylvia.
Then Fortune's kind!—Oh, Colin mine at last!

(embracing.)
Colin.
Let dull Remembrance die of what is past.

DUET.
[Colin.]

The Bee, that haunts the fragrant Bow'r,
Extracts the Sweets of ev'ry Flow'r,
And sips an Hundred in an Hour,
But when the Fit is o'er to roam,
Returning to the luscious Comb,
He finds the richest Sweets at Home.

Thus did my fickle Fancy stray,
And restless all the live-long Day,
Cou'd never with one Object stay:
Now tir'd at length with being free,
It can no more inconstant be,
But finds all Joy alone in thee.

Sylvia.

When Night asserts her awful Reign,
No Sylvan Prospects entertain,
While Horror deepens o'er the Plain:
Yet when Aurora darts her Ray,
The Sun dispels the Gloom away,
And Nature smiles, and all is gay.

Thus thy returning Flame has chac'd
Despair and Anguish from my Breast,
And all within is Peace and Rest.
The Bliss that Passion can bestow,
The Care-touch'd Soul alone can know;
All Pleasure takes its Rise from Woe.

RECITATIVE.
Streph.
The happiest Mortals we shall be on Earth;
We'll yield the Day that makes us so to Mirth;
And, Colin, while in each revolving Year,
We are indulg'd in viewing it appear,
A jocund Treat to all our Friends we'll give,
And Rural Sports shall crown the blithsome Eve.

Colin.
Strephon, whatever you propose shall be:
My Joys will flow from Delia and from thee.

CHORUS.
Oh, Marriage! Oh, Marriage! thou heavenly State!
Thy Bonds must be easy, where Rapture's so great;
They ne'er can be bless'd who the Station despise,
In Wedlock alone all true Happiness lies.

FINIS.

University of Virginia Library

2. INTERLUDE II.

SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV.

SCENE V.

SCENE VI.

SCENE the Last.