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Camilla

An Opera
  
  
  
  
  

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ACT I.
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1

ACT I.

SCENE I.

SCENE, a Champian Country with Plains and easie Hills, the End of a Wood on one Side, and Prospect of a City at Distance.
Enter Camilla and Linco.
Cam.
These fruitful Fields,
These Plains so sweet,
These Walls, are the fair Volscian Seat.
To view my Loss fresh Torture yields,
And melts my weeping Eyes.

Linc.
Metabo, your Royal Father, now at Rest,
Flew from Latino's Arms, by Fate opprest:
The dear Companion of his Flight was you,
The Wrongs you suffer'd much too young to know.

Cam.
And my poor Mother!

Linc.
Nature's boasted Pride;
The Hour she gave you to the World, she dy'd.

Cam.
Forlorn Camilla! Fate has done its worst:
I was born of Royal Race,
Yet must wander in Disgrace;
All the Pomp that Fortune yields,
Humble Vallies, Flocks and Fields.

SCENE II.

A Company of Huntsmen, Prenesto and Metius behind the Scenes.
Cam.
Hark! Linco! a Voice.

Hunts.
See, see, a-cross the Plain,

2

That Stag how swift he bounds?

Met.
Let slip the Hounds.

Hunts.
'Twill be in vain, the Game's quite out of View,
They'll not the Track pursue.

Linc.
They're Huntsmen at the Chace.

Cam.
O remember, Linco, pray!
So may the Gods still prosper thee,
Discover not thy self, nor me.

Linc.
Yes, I remember,
I'll ne'er the Secret betray.
I've got my Part
Already by heart;
And know what to reply:
You are my Neice, your Uncle I.

Cam.
That Dorinda's my Name.

Linc.
Well, I know't, I'll take care.

Cam.
And my Life scarce of late—

Linc.
You need not repeat.

Pren.
Help me! oh help me!

[A wild Boar struck by Prenesto.
Hunts.
Let's try to assist him.

Linc.
Ye Gods, what Alarm!

Hunts.
Quick run to his Aid.

Enter Prenesto: The Boar pursuing him.
Pren.
O Heav'ns! who defends me?

Cam.
My Arm.

[She throws a Dart, and kills the Boar.
Linc.
Dorinda, of nothing afraid,
She's sprightly and gay, a valiant Maid,
And as bright as the Day.

Cam.
Take Courage, Hunter, the Savage is dead.

Pren.
O Nymph of Race Divine!
That do'st all Nymphs outshine;
Such Glories fill thy Eyes:
My ravish'd Soul surprizing,
That Phœbus at his rising
Less charming paints the Skies.

Cam.
Ha! no, I'm Fortune's Scorn,
A Maid in much Distress,
Tho' now, by chance, I've born
The Praise of this Success.

Linc.
And know she's Linco's Neice.


3

SCENE III.

Enter Metius.
Met.
My Lord, to your Relief
Metius ran swift thro' the Field,
But came too late,
Because from far I did your Danger view.

Pren.
See here my broken Spear,
I struck the Beast, and part remains
Fix'd in his Side;
Enrag'd, on me he flew, while I for Succour cry'd;
This Goddess of the Plains
A lucky Jav'lin threw;
She pierc'd the Monster with her Dart,
And with her Eyes my Heart;
Thus sav'd by her, by her I die.

Met.
I with Joy your Safety see;
Bright Goddess, on thee
Heav'n this Fame bestows,
To thee his Life Prenesto owes,
The great Latinus Son.

Cam.
Latinus Son.

Met.
'Tis he.

Cam.
What have I done!
[Aside.
See, Linco, see!
While I entreat the Skies
T'avenge my Wrongs, I'm doom'd to save my Enemies.

Pren.
What says the lovely Charmer!

Cam.
I said that the propitious Skies
Smile on this happy Hour;
For from Latinus Grace and Pow'r
Justice I would implore.
Let me at his Feet make known,
The Weight of Woe that sinks me down.

Linc.
O dear, dissembling Woman!

Pren.
Come to the Court, your Wish obtain;
Mean while remain
Conqueress of a double Prize,
Of the living and the slain,
One by this Spear, one by your Eyes.

4

Since you from Death have sav'd me,
I'll live for you alone;
The Life you freely gave me,
That Life's not now my own.

[Exit.
Met.
Huntress, look not to find
[To Camilla.
Within these Woods alive
More of the Savage Kind;
They've seen that honour'd Beast
A glorious Death receive, and Envy slew the rest.
If then you seek more Prize,
Throw your useless Spear away:
The Light'ning from your Look that flies,
More than a thousand Spears can slay.
Love's Darts are in your Eye,
There dwells the smiling Ruin;
Your Brows his Bow supply,
To shoot us while we're viewing.
Who can the Sight refrain?
Who bear a Joy so Thrilling?
So wond'rous sweet's the Pain,
The Pleasure is so killing!

[Exit.
Linc.
Camilla, this is Metius, a Volscian Knight,
For Valour much renown'd;
In Peace he was approv'd, in War he was belov'd,
And ever Loyal found.
Him have I often heard your Royal Sire commend;
He serv'd him as his Prince, and lov'd him as his Friend.
Tho' fourteen Years are past
Since I beheld him last,
Both the Voice and the Mein,
Of him I've often seen,
Assure me I am right.

Cam.
My Fears are dying,
And my Sorrows all are flying.
Fortune hitherto severe
Begins her angry Brow to clear.
Be kind, ye Gods! Assert, assert my Cause,
Protect my Innocence, and Defend your Laws,
Fortune, ever known to vary,
Now grown weary,

5

Changes to a Smile her Frown.
Joys unknown are near attending,
Never ending;
Happy Hours move gaily on.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

A Chamber in the Royal Palace.
Enter Lavinia; and after Tullia, and Turnus disguis'd like a Blackamoor.
Lav.
Tender Maids your Pity show,
Th'envenom'd Dart I feel,
Yet the Hand that gave the Blow,
The Eyes that wound me so,
No Virgin must reveal.

Tul.
Turnus, or rather Armidoro, the black Slave,
Waiting without does for Admittance crave.

Lav.
Let him appear in whom my Thoughts delight,
Whilst he is here, 'tis Day; when he is gone, 'tis Night.

Turn.
Lavinia, under this dark Disguise,
A Soul unspotted, Faith unconquer'd lyes.

Lav.
That Lustre lyes in Clouds conceal'd by tender Art,
Which else would blast a Virgin's Eyes, and scorch her Heart.

Tul.
The Art of Lovers none but Lovers know,
They make White Black, and Black they turn to Snow.

Turn. and Lav.
together.
One Day Cupid wantonly
Let a pointed Arrow fly,
Made me languish, pine and die.

SCENE V.

Enter Latinus and the rest.
Tul.
Behold, Latinus!

Lat.
Daughter!

Lav.
My Royal Father!

Lat.
Fame of Beauty, Love of Power,
Draws from many a distant Shore
Crouds that do your Charms adore.
To such a Prince I wish you join'd,
Whose faithful Arms with mine combin'd,
May pull th'imperious Turnus down,
And seize on the Rutilian Crown.

Turn.
Turnus thy fruitless Wishes hears,
Committing to the Wind his Fears.

[Aside.

6

Lat.
Do thou make prudent Choice of one,
Worthy thy Love, and my Renown.

Lav.
Sir, some small Time for Thought allow,
E'er that Choice I do avow.

Turn.
Unconstant Mind!

Lat.
You nought require
But what is just; think, and be happy.

[Exit.
Turn.
Where is thy Faith, Lavinia, now?

Lav.
Turnus!

Turn.
Some Time for Thought allow,
E'er that Choice I do avow.
Ungrateful!

Lav.
You wrong your Love, and your Lavinia.

Turn.
Witness this abhorr'd Disguise;
Like Jove, I quit my Royal Seat,
For Love my Majesty forget.
The fam'd Rutilian King I am no more;
Turnus is lost in Armidore,
And this is my Reward.

Lav.
Think, if openly I seem'd to yield,
Latinus is my Father, I his Child.
Much is to a Father due,
More I own to Love and you.

Turn.
Frail are a Lover's Hopes,
And fatal is the Fair;
If she smiles, 'tis to destroy,
Vain his Hopes are, false the Joy
That doth his Heart ensnare.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Lavinia and Tullia.
Lav.
Are then these frequent Sighs and Tears,
My Heart that swells with Hopes and Fears,
Are these the Servants of Deceit?
Wretched Lavinia! cruel Fate!

Tul.
Madam, your fruitless Tears give over,
Nor mourn for an unworthy Lover.

Lav.
Welcome Sorrow, Death attending,
Welcome Death, my Sorrows ending.
When our Joys uneasie are,
Hope despairing,

7

Joys impairing,
Life becomes below our Care.
Welcome Death, my Sorrows ending,
Welcome Sorrow, Death attending.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII.

The Palace.
Enter Metius, Linco, and Camilla.
Met.
Art thou the Swain that did resort,
In former Times, unto the Volscian Court?

Linc.
Sir, I am.

Met.
And Dorinda

Linc.
And Dorinda

Cam.
What of Dorinda thou desir'st to hear,
Let the poor Shepherdess her self declare.
Great Metabo thou once didst serve.

Met.
With an approv'd Fidelity.

Cam.
Should he return th'Imperial Reins to hold.

Met.
With Joy the People would behold
Their lawful Lord,
With Joy receive Great Metabo restor'd.

Cam.
Should he be no more.

Met.
The Royal Exile bury'd on some Foreign Shore,
I would for ever mourn.

Cam.
But should Camilla once return,
Might she of thy Faith be sure?

Met.
To restore her to her own,
And place her on her Father's Throne,
All I gladly would endure.

Cam.
Metius, great Metabo is dead, but see
His wretched Daughter still survive in me.

Met.
Art thou Camilla?

Cam.
Yes, and thy Promise claim.

Met.
All I'll venture to restore ye,
Injur'd Princess, to your Right:
If my Sword too weak should prove,
I swear by Empire, and by Love,
By those Pow'rs that now smile o'er ye,
With your pointed Fyes I'll Fight.
All I'll venture, &c.

Cam.
See the just Gods of Innocence
Regard, with tender Eyes,

8

The Sorrows I endure.
Pow'rs unseen are arm'd to rise,
United all in my Defence,
They drive Despair far off from hence,
And work my Sorrows Cure.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII.

A Palace.
Enter Latinus, Prenesto and Lavinia.
Lat.
Did then a Shepherdess preserve my Son?

Pren.
Sir, to a gen'rous Shepherdess my Life I owe.

Lav.
The Name of thy Protectress tell.

Pren.
Dorinda.

Lav.
Say, where does Dorinda dwell?

Pren.
Without she waits, and has a Boon to crave,
More worthy than the Life she give.

Lat.
Let the lov'd Nymph appear.

SCENE IX.

Enter Metius, Camilla and Linco.
Met.
Behold her here, to whom we owe
Our present Joys, and future Blessings too.

Lav.
Behold her here, whose bold courageous Hand
Did the fatal Stroke withstand.

Pren.
Behold her here, who, in the fatal Field,
Was the forlorn Prenesto's Shield.

Cam.
The Good I did to Chance is due;
No Merit can Dorinda claim:
Chance did this Desert bestow,
That I thus prostrate at your Feet,
Might a kind Acceptance meet,
And my Request obtain.

Lat.
Rise, and thy Request explain.

Cam.
Poor and distress'd tho' now I seem,
My Father, near Sebeto's Stream,
Did sometimes large Possessions claim;
'Till an Usurper, arm'd with Pow'r,
Arriv'd in an unhappy Hour,
Seiz'd on our Flocks, my Father slew,
Did me with equal Rage pursue;
And now an Exile must I die,
If your Assistance you deny.


9

Lat.
Metius, with a chosen Band
Of Volscians, waiting your Command,
Shall march this Hour to your Relief,
And punish the injurious Thief.

Met.
With Joy the Soldier moves to Fight,
When Beauty gives the Word;
Beauty ever in the right,
Draws the Bow, and weilds the Sword.

Lav.
Fair Dorinda, happy, happy,
Happy may'st thou ever be:
The Stars that smile on happy Days,
May they all now smile on thee.

[Exeunt all but Prenesto, Camilla and Linco.

SCENE X.

Pren.
Dorinda, ah! could you my Heart discover,
You there would find a soft and tender Lover.

Cam.
A Prince's Favour surely is Divine,
Nor should it, like the Sun, on Wretches shine.

Pren.
A Prince's Love, like second Fate,
Doth a low Object new create.

Cam.
But when he makes unequal Choice,
He stands condemn'd by publick Voice.

SCENE XI.

Enter Tullia.
Tul.
Fair Nymph, Lavinia calls thee.

Cam.
I am Lavinia's Slave.

Pren.
Stay, fair Dorinda;
What would my Sister have?

Linc.
to Tul.
Fair, I love thee.

Tul.
He is a handsome Swain.

Pren.
Dorinda, for Love of thee I burn, I die!

Cam.
Such Beauty pleases, tho' in an Enemy.

[Aside.
Linc.
Who art thou?

Tul.
Tullia, a Lady of the Court.

Linc.
And I Dorinda's Uncle.

Tul.
Thank Heav'n for't.

Pren.
Charming Fair, for thee I languish!
But bless the Hand
That gave the Blow.
With equal Anguish

10

Each Swain despairs,
And when she appears
Streams forget to flow.

Cam.
(Aside)
Wretched Camilla! a double Slave thou art,
He who expects thy Crown, now claims thy Heart.
Wretched am I that I gain him,
And I gladly would disdain him,
Whom my Eyes have made my Slave:
But in vain do I endeavour;
Fate resisting,
Love persisting,
Unconquer'd ever,
Me an equal Vassal have.

[Exeunt Pren. and Cam.

SCENE XII.

Manet Tullia and Linco.
Tul.
Pretty is this Neice of thine;
How doth she to Love incline?

Linc.
For Love she is too young.

Tul.
And yet I saw—but hush, my Tongue.

Linc.
Spare your Reflections; she is right,
And can't distinguish Black from White.

Tul.
They are Fools, that can rely
Upon a formal Cast o'th'Eye.
Among Women, they for certain
Know the most, that least discover,
To the Husband, or the Lover,
Whom they study to betray.
See her to th'Appointment hasting,
Her Steps precise, her Looks upcasting;
But could you the Fair disclose behind the Curtain,
You'd quickly hear her burst out into an Ah!

Linc.
Dorinda knows not, on my Life,
What Husband-means, what's meant by Wife.

Tul.
Small Learning will suffice t'explain,
To willing Minds, what those Words mean.

Linc.
The Meaning then is known to you?

Tul.
The Theory yes, the Practick no.

Linc.
An untouch'd Virgin you appear.

Tul.
I dar'd not wed too soon.

Linc.
What Thoughts of Wedlock now d'you bear?

Tul.
To wed whilst I am in my Noon.


11

Linc.
Thy Noon is Night.

[Aside.
Tul.
A well-built Wight.

[Aside.
Linc.
A wanton Witch.

Tul.
A Tongue so sweet.

Linc.
Yet if she's rich
I'll languish at her Feet.
Aged Phillis
Wanton still is,
Paying now for those dear Pleasures,
Which before improv'd her Treasures,
When her Youth was in the Bloom.
Gold supplies what Age is wasting,
Gold has Beauties ever lasting,
Gold gives Brav'ry to the Coward,
Gives good Humour to the Froward,
Gold gives Honour to the Clown.

Tul.
Linco.

Linc.
See how her Chaps water.

Tul.
I find I please.

Linc.
And I'll be at her.
Like my Brother Beaux o'th'Town,
I'll Love pretend, where there is none.
For thee I burn, my pretty Dame,
Be complaisant, and quench my Flame:
O how much I long t'enfold thee,
And in Hymen's Bands to hold thee.

Tul.
My House's Honour would miscarry,
Should I to a Peasant marry.

Linc.
O Heav'ns!

Tul.
Indeed I own that I adore him,
But must not yield yet for decorum.
I languish!

Linc.
For whom?

Tul.
I sorrow!

Linc.
My Dear.

Tul.
My Treasure!

Linc.
I'm here.

Tul.
I speak not to thee.
Me would'st thou?

Linc.
Thee, thee!


12

Tul.
O help me!

Linc.
Here, here!

Tul.
Thus pensive I go,
And utter my Woe.

[Exeunt.

SCENE XIII.

Enter Turnus and Lavinia.
Turn.
Unfaithful, let me go!

Lav.
Whither?

Turn.
Where
Those false deluding Accents I no more may hear.
Latinus' Menaces too well I heard;
Too well I know what Troops by Metius are prepar'd.

Lav.
T'assist Dorinda are those Troops design'd.

Turn.
Lavinia with Latinus too was join'd.
Latinus with his numerous Arms,
His Daughter with more pow'rful Charms,
For my Destruction both alike prepare,
And Love more fatal is than War.

Lav.
Can'st thou forget me?

Turn.
No, I find
Love unresisted rules my Mind,
The wonted Greatness of my Soul is gone:
Latinus dies, so shall his hated Son.

Lav.
And Lavinia

Turn.
O I live in her.

Lav.
And yet your warlike Squadrons to prepare
You go.

Turn.
I go.

Lav.
And those against Latinus you will lead?

Turn.
Yes.

Lav.
Latinus is my Father; when he's dead—
But see him here.

SCENE XIV.

Enter Latinus.
Lat.
Lavinia, hast thou chosen?

Turn.
What do I hear?

Lav.
I've chosen one
Worthy your Daughter, and your Throne.

Lat.
O name him to me, that I may
Bless thee, and this auspicious Day.

Lav.
You wish'd for Turnus fetter'd to your Throne;
Turnus is worthy, and must be your Son.


13

Lat.
Turnus wilt thou wed?

Turn.
What have I done?

Lav.
In vain we labour to recede
From what by Fate has been decreed.

Lat.
Fate with free Will has bless'd Mankind.

Lav.
To Love that Freedom I've resign'd.

Lat.
Let her that dares thus insolent rebel,
Let her in close Confinement dwell;
Let none Admittance to her have,
But Armidore, the faithful Slave.
If thy fond Wishes still to Turnus cleave,
From Death alone expect a late Reprieve.

[Exit.

SCENE XV.

Manent Turnus and Lavinia
Turn.
Pardon, Lavinia, my too jealous Fears.

Lav.
Unfaithful sure Lavinia still appears.

Turn.
See, I repent.

Lav.
Be gone, and leave the Maid
By whom the Royal Turnus is betray'd.

Turn.
Forbear tormenting thy unhappy Guest,
By his own Guilt too much oppress'd.

Lav.
To thee I swear, and to just Heav'n,
Rather than violate my Faith once giv'n,
I will unmov'd to Death withstand
My angry Father's hard Command;
And when I am dead,
Let this upon my Urn be read,
Here lyes Lavinia,
Who to preserve unmov'd her Faith,
Chearfully resign'd to Death.

Turn.
Ah! never yet was known
A Nymph so kind and true,
So fair and faithful too.
Despair no more pursues me.
My fancy'd Fears are flown,
My Thoughts no Joy refuse me,
My Torments adieu.

A Dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses.
End of the First Act.