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E. Kirkall [...]
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THE CRUEL GIFT: A TRAGEDY. As it is Acted At the THEATRE ROYAL in Drury-Lane, By His MAJESTY's Servants.
By Mrs. CENT LIVRE.
LONDON, Printed for E. CURL in Fleet-ſtreet, and A. BETTESWORTH in Pater-Noſter Row, 1717. Price 1 s.
TO EUSTACE BUDGELL, Eſq
[]SIR,
THOSE who devote them⯑ſelves to POETRY, have but one Way of paying the higheſt Favours; their Returns are only the Fruits of that Art which they cultivate; and they might well be⯑wail this as a Partiality in Nature, were not the Gifts of Genius ſome⯑times beyond thoſe of Fortune. Men who, like your Self, can give Eter⯑nity to Names they honour, have no Reaſon to complain of the Muſes: But ſuch as we, who have it in our [] Wills to be grateful, and are ſhor⯑ten'd in the only Powers we have to ſhew it, feel greater Uneaſineſs from Obligations, than is eaſy to be ex⯑preſs'd. In ſuch a Situation, we have nothing left, but our Attempts to pleaſe; and theſe your ſuperior Geniuses muſt look upon rather as a Homage, than a Return; the Effects of our good Wiſhes, rather than the Accompliſhment of our Deſires.
NEXT to being eminent in one's own Character, to be diſtinguiſh'd by Men of Excellence, is the happieſt Praiſe; and as one of theſe is very often introductory to the other, ſo has it happen'd to you; the Greateſt Men among us firſt obſerv'd and che⯑riſh'd your Merit, and you ſoon re⯑turn'd the Acknowledgment, by ma⯑king that Merit uſeful and orna⯑mental to your Country. What a noble Teſtimony do your living Vir⯑tues give to the Diſcernment of the late Lord HALIFAX! that Great Man had the peculiar Happineſs of [] making Wit and Learning not only a Qualification for his Friendſhip, but of Service to the Buſineſs and Management of publick Affairs. The Familiarity you have always enter⯑tain'd with the firſt Men of Letters, and the Applauſe with which you have acted, and ſtill continue to act, in the Sphere of Buſineſs, are equal⯑ly to your Honour, and have ſet your Character as much above Flat⯑tery, as Detraction.
FOR my Part, it has always been my Ambition to deſire the good Opi⯑nion of Men of your Turn; and I never have, or ſhall be aſham'd of publiſhing the Virtues of thoſe who have been eminent in their Services for our KING, Country, and Legal Conſtitution; and in this View (if any Thing of mine can reach ſo far) would I be look'd upon by Poſterity.
IN the mean Time, I cannot but congratulate my Country for breed⯑ing ſuch gallant free Spirits, who, [] like your Self, have roſe up in Op⯑poſition to the two moſt implacable Powers that can be let looſe upon Mankind, Tyranny and Popery. It is your Praiſe, Sir, to have acted a moſt noble Part on this Account, in the Iriſh Senate; a Country more than once the Scene of the moſt dreadful Maſſacres, but now, by the Actions of YOU and your fellow PATRIOTS, happily recover'd from the ſame threat'ning (and oh! too near) im⯑pending Perſecution.
SUCH publick Services as theſe, tho' they give Joy and Bleſſings to a whole Nation, yet they more nearly affect thoſe who have a Share in your Eſteem. Among the great Number that your Merit have made your Friends, I am proud to be ac⯑counted one, and to have it known to the World, I had your Per⯑miſſion to prefix your Name to this TRAGEDY. I ſhall be very neg⯑ligent with the Criticks, and ſet my Heart at Reſt on Account of the En⯑vious, [] if it has the good Fortune in the leaſt to pleaſe, and divert one Hour of your Retirement. It comes to you with ſincere Wiſhes for a happy New-Year, for a long and un⯑interrupted Health; and that you may remain, what now you are, an Ornament to the Poſt you fill, and Bleſſing to the Nation you are hap⯑pily planted in, are the hearty Wiſhes and Prayers of,
SIR,
Your moſt oblig'd And moſt obedient Humble Servant, Suſanna Cent Livre.
PROLOGUE.
Spoken by Mr. WILKS.
[]THIS Play (I wonder how the Thing could hold!)
Is, if I reckon right, two Winters old;
It ſhould have courted you the laſt hard Froſt,
But you in Ice and Politicks were loſt,
Two ſlipp'ry Things—Some know it to their Coſt.
The prudent Mother, therefore, with good Reaſon,
Wean'd not this Child before a better Seaſon:
Well-pleas'd ſne ſees the Madneſs of the Age
Spent in an Impotent Succeſsleſs Rage.
From civil Life transfer your Horrors here,
And give to Tragedy its proper Sphere.
Our Woman ſays, for 'tis a Woman's Wit,
(That ſingle Word will gain us half the Pit)
This is her firſt Attempt in Tragick-Stuff;
And here's Intrigue, and Plot, and Love enough.
The Devil's in it, if the Sex can't write
Thoſe Things in which They take the moſt Delight:
[] If ſhe has touch'd theſe Scenes with artful Care,
Be kind, and all her ſmaller Failings ſpare.
The Ladies ſure will eaſe a Woman's Fears,
For common Pity's Sake, the Men for Thiers.
On Hopes like theſe her Tragedy depends,
Not on confed'rate Clubs of clapping Friends,
Diſpos'd in Parties to ſupport her Cauſe,
And bully you by Noiſe, into Applauſe.
If ſhe muſt ſue, ſhe ſcorns thoſe vulgar Arts,
But fain by nobler Means would win your Hearts;
Tell you ſhe wears her Country, in her Breaſt,
And is as firmly Loyal, as the beſt;
Then bid your Hearts their kindeſt Pray'rs convey,
And meet your coming MONARCH on his Way;
Who, from one peaceful Journey, brings us more
Than our long Liſt of conq'ring KINGS before;
For ne'er did Britain's Hopes ſo highly Tower,
Or promiſe ſuch a glorious Stretch of Power,
As on that Day, which ſhall to Council bring
The Braveſt Senate, and the Greateſt KING;
Whoſe rip'ning Schemes ſhall diſtant Nation's Rule,
Make Tyrants tremble, and Divans grow cool:
To Britain's Enſigns then, as They decree,
The World ſhall ſtrike by Land, as well as Seae,
Dramatis Perſonae.
[]MEN.
- KING of Lombardy. Mr. Mills.
- Duke of Milan, diſguis'd like an Hermit. Mr. Boman.
- LORENZO, General of Lombardy, pri⯑vately marry'd to Leonora. Mr. Booth.
- ANTENOR, Prime Miniſter of State, Father to Learchus. Mr. Quin.
- LEARCHUS, Keeper of the Royal Fort, in Love with Antimora. Mr. Ryan.
- CARDONO, Friend to LORENZO, and his Lieutenant-General. Mr. Walker.
- AGONISTUS, Friend to LEARCHUS. Mr. Wilks.
WOMEN.
- LEONORA, Princeſs of Lombardy. Mrs. Oldfield.
- ANTIMORA, in Love with LEARCHUS. Mrs. Porter.
- Embaſſadors, Captain, Guards, Ladies, and other Attendants.
SCENE, the City of VERONA in Lombardy.
[]THE CRUEL GIFT: OR, THE Royal Reſentment.
ACT I.
SCENE the PALACE.
Enter Antenor and Learchus.
ANTENOR.
AWAY, 'tis all Romantick;
The lazy Virtue of ſome dreaming Hermit:
Far be Ambition from their homely Cells:
But what haſt thou to do with ill-tim'd Honeſty?
Obſerve me well, and treaſure in thy Soul
The experienc'd Wiſdom of thy Father;
Let Intereſt be thy bright unerring Guide,
The ſecret darling Purpoſe of thy Heart.
Believe me, Boy, ſhe reigns Supreme below;
Honours and endleſs Pleaſure wait around her;
When ſhe commands, ſmile on the Man thou hateſt,
Careſs him to inevitable Ruin.
[2] From fooliſh Pity guard thy well-taught Mind;
To Women leave the fond Deceiver, Love;
That Bar to Glory, and to great Revenge.
Think not of Friendſhip, more than of a Word,
Which, once gone forth, is loſt in idle Air.
Lear.
Is this the Language of Paternal Love?
Forbid it, all good Men, that I ſhould think ſo.
You mean to prove my Soul, and 'tis moſt juſt;
For many wear the borrow'd Maſk of Goodneſs;
But I was made in Scorn of Artifice;
Superior Virtue is my awful Goddeſs,
My pleaſing Motive, and my wiſh'd Reward.
Whether ſhe leads me to the active Field,
Or the more dangerous Court, ſhe guides my Life:
Fame, Honour, Wealth, when by her Hand beſtow'd,
With grateful Joy ſubmiſſive I'll receive them;
But offer'd by the World in Lieu of her,
With Scorn I'd throw them back, as empty Trifles,
Unworthy of an honeſt Man's Regard.
Ante.
Dull Moraliſt! haſt thou no Taſte of Power!
No Thirſt of Glory! No ambitious Longings,
To raiſe thy Soul, and bear thee up to Empire?
And can'ſt thou let Lorenzo tower above thee?
Call to Remembrance all thy noble Anceſtors,
Who all fell Victims to the Rage of his.
Conſider this; then think if thou art injur'd
Enough to prompt thee to a great Revenge.
Lear.
Far be the Thought of Vengeance from my Soul;
I view with equal Juſtice Friends and Enemies:
Pride may perhaps pronounce This, Weakneſs in me.
No Matter what the haughty Mind ſuggeſts;
I'd rather wear the Name of Good than Great.
Ante.
Why, this is finely ſaid.
Lear.
For Lorenzo, ſince my Royal Maſter,
Whoſe great undoubted Right has Power to give,
Beſtow'd on him the Honours which I wore;
Long may they ſlouriſh with him; who ſhall dare
Blame you in giving or reſuming Favours?
Then ought we, Sir, t' impoſe on Majeſty,
What in our ſelves we would not bear?
Ante.
[3]Go on, go on, purſue this darling Vapour,
Unthinking to what Precipice it leads;
Extol Lorenzo, dwell upon his Praiſe,
And help to ſwell the popular Applauſe.
Forget the Conqueſts that have crown'd thy Valour,
The numerous Wounds thou haſt ſuſtain'd in Battel
For this inſulting, this ungrateful King!
Lear.
Wore not my Sword the Freedom of my Country?
Wounds loſe their Smart in ſuch a glorious Cauſe:
He who for Intereſt, or for baſe Revenge,
Should in a private Quarrel ſell his Foe,
Deſerves the Scorn of every good Man for't;
But he who would enſlave his native Land,
Give up the reverend Rights of Law and Juſtice,
To the deteſted Luſt of boundleſs Tyranny,
Pollute our Altars, change our holy Worſhip,
Deſerves the Curſes both of Heaven and Earth,
And, from Society of human Kind,
To be caſt forth among the Beaſts of Prey,
A Monſter far more ſavage.
Ante.
Excellent!
Lear.
For me—
I know no Glory, but my Country's Good,
Nor Anger bear 'gainſt any, but her Foes;
But all her Enemies are mine; for her
I'd make this Body one entire Scar,
Ere I would ſee my Country made a Prey,
Or know the King, to whom I've ſworn, diſtreſs'd;
And this I hold to be all brave Mens Duty.
Ante.
Matchleſs Stupidity!—
Art thou from me, from my ſtrong Blood deriv'd,
And can thy ebbing Pulſes beat ſo low,
So diſtant from the Vigour of my Soul?
But, Spite of Artifice, I ſee quite thro' thee;
Ill doſt thou hide from me the hated Cauſe
Of this tame Suffering, this Baſtard Patience.
Deaf to Ambition, fooliſh Love betrays thee.
Lorenzo's Siſter, Antimora reigns
The pow'rful Miſtreſs o'er thy Heart and Fame;
Thy eaſy Mind, fond of the ſlaviſh Yoke,
[4] Forgets her haughty Brother ſoars above thee.
I bad thee lift thine Eyes to Leonora,
The beauteous Hope of this fair Kingdom.
Lear.
Yes, that guilty Thought of yours undid me.
Oh! was it not, that finding your Ambition,
The angry King, to ſcatter all your Hopes,
Ruin'd guiltleſs me?
Ante.
Well, I remember his ungrateful Rage,
Remember it with juſt Indignation;
And thou as ſoon might'ſt think to reconcile
Th' eternal Quarrel between Death and Nature,
As quench my eager Thirſt of Vengeance.
Yet I diſſembled well my Injuries,
And ſooth'd the fiery King with ſo much Art,
The bold Propoſal was miſtook for Zeal,
To keep the beauteous Leonora with us.
'Twas thus the Monarch's Favour I regain'd,
His wanting this experienc'd Head for Council.
When that old Sophiſter Alcanor dy'd,
I roſe again prime Miniſter of State;
And now have in my View a brave Deſign,
Of which thou art unworthy to partake.
Lear.
My Want of Merit is my Pride in this;
For where Revenge and Fraud are of the Party,
I would not be admitted—
Ante.
You wou'd not, Sir—
But tho' Crowns and Pow'r want Charms to move thee,
And Injury ſeems to have loſt her pointed Sting;
When thou ſhalt know that Antimora's given,
A Pledge of Friendſhip, from her Brother's Hand,
To his dear Fav'rite and Fellow-Warrior,
I know thy Spirits will be all awake.
Lear.
Ha!
Ante.
Yes, that dang'rous Maid, who has miſled thee,
For whom all filial Duty is forgot,
All Wrongs forgiven, all Ambition quench'd,
Muſt be Cardono's Wife—
Lear.
I know Lorenzo loves the Man you mention;
But that he is to wed fair Antimora,
Is all a Dream, work'd up by waking Malice.
The Souls of Martyrs, mounting from the Flame,
[5] Are not more brightly ſpotleſs, than her Faith;
But you have Leave to ſay whate'er you pleaſe,
And I, unruffl'd, will with Calmneſs hear you.
Ante.
Go on, young Stoick, bleſs theſe Pair of Friends;
Go, bend thy Knee to this young Fav'rite low;
Reſign thy Miſtreſs to the other's Arms,
And be renown'd for Patience!
Lear.
When I do that, let Infamy and Shame
Purſue and blot the Name of Soldier from me.
Give up my Miſtreſs, quit the Maid I love!
As ſoon I would give up my Poſt in War,
Reſign the Soul which animates this Frame,
And to that lateſt Nothing be reduc'd,
Where Love and Glory ceaſe—But oh! I rave;
Her Brother's Pow'r, no, not the King's Command,
Can ſhock her Faith—
Ante.
Build not thy Hopes upon a Woman's Faith,
But join with me, and greatly be reveng'd.
I have the Means, Lorenzo's in my Snare;
Deep as the Grave I've trac'd his erring Steps,
And ſeen him ſafe within the Toils of Fate;
Once more I warn thee to throw off thy Love;
Wake from this idle Amorous Lethargy,
And ſhun that falling Houſe, like Loſs of Honour;
Exert thy Soul, and aid my great Deſign,
Or from this Moment thou'rt no more my Son.
[Ex.
Lear.
Wou'd I indeed were not, unhappy Thought.
[Enter Agoniſtus.]
My Agoniſtus—
Oh! much I wanted thee, and thou art come
Even to ſhare Misfortunes with thy Friend.
Thou kind, thou beſt Companion of my Youth;
Thou Partner in my Dangers, well I know thee.
Should Father, King, and ev'ry Star frown on me,
Thou would'ſt not forſake me.
Ag.
Much ſooner ſhall this fertile Kingdom change
Her happy pregnant Soil for ſterile Sand,
Than I ſorſake my Friend—Come, be not ſad,
Thou wilt again regain thy Maſter's Favour.
Lear.
Thou know'ſt me not—
Il' thou doſt think I in the leaſt regard
[6] Whom Fortune mounts upon her giddy Wheel,
Or o'er what Fav'rite ſhe inſulting drives:
A ſofter Care does all my Thoughts employ;
Love, Agoniſtus, is the fatal Source
From whence my Sorrows ſpring.
Ag.
I've gueſs'd it long,
But knew not to what Fair your Vows were paid.
Lear.
Now I will tell thee all th' important Story,
And eaſe my burthen'd Heart of half its Load.
Thou art well acquainted with that ancient Hate
Between Lorenzo's Family and mine,
And muſt remember to have heard at leaſt
His Grand-father, when over-power'd by Faction,
From Court exil'd, paſs'd many Years in Venice;
During which Time his Son, the Lord Alcanor,
Marry'd a beautiful Venetian Lady,
And he had Iſſue by her this Lorenzo,
And Antimora, of whom ſhe dy'd in Child-bed.
Soon after this, his Father alſo dy'd.
Alcanor ſtrait employ'd his Friends, t' obtain
Leave from the King for his Return to Lombardy.
The King gave Leave; he came, and liv'd obſcurely,
In ſullen Solitude, and haughty Privacy.
Ag.
I do remember to have heard this Story.
Lear.
In a lone ancient Seat Alcanor liv'd,
Hard by a Caſtle which belong'd to us;
'Twas there I firſt beheld fair Antimora,
And, gazing, catch'd and gather'd growing Love.
Bright as a Sylvan Goddeſs ſhe appear'd,
And ſhot her beauteous Beams into my Soul.
In ſome Diſguiſe I waited every Day,
'Till in one happy Ev'ning I at laſt
Met her as ſhe was walking forth alone;
With trembling Awe I ventur'd to approach her,
And on my Knees I begg'd that ſhe would hear
The trueſt Paſſion that e'er warm'd a Lover.
Ag.
And ſhe conſented—
Lear.
At firſt ſhe heard with Caution, ſtill objecting
Our Houſes Hatred, and my proſp'rous Fate,
And charg'd me to ſuppreſs the growing Flame,
And fix my Choice on ſome more happy Maid,
[7] Whoſe ample Fortunes, and whoſe equal Merit,
Might vindicate my Love—
Ag.
Thus Minds, form'd truly great, bear up their Port.
Lear.
But ſtill I preſs'd, and told the lovely Fair one
My wakeful reſtleſs Agonies of Heart,
My eager Fondneſs, and my growing Fears,
The Pains of Doubt, and Horror of Deſpair,
With every Care which racks a Lover's Breaſt.
At length the Ardor of my ſervent Vows
Drew from her ſnowy Boſom, unawares,
A pitying Sigh, and from her Eyes a Tear,
The rich Reward of many anxious Minutes.
At laſt ſhe ſpoke, and bleſs'd me with this Promiſe;
If there be yet a ſmiling Hour behind,
That ſhall the Grandeur of our Houſe reſtore;
You, who have lov'd me in this Ebb of Fortune,
Shall find a grateful Senſe in Antimora.
Ag.
She is indeed a Miracle of Goodneſs.
Lear.
She gave me Leave to ſee her every Day;
But ſoon, alas! my Father's waking Jealouſy
Diſcover'd where my conſtant Vows were paid,
And urg'd the King I might be ſent Abroad.
The Turkiſh War concluded juſt before,
And Lombardy was by this Arm in Peace;
And 'cauſe no warlike Expedition offer'd,
I bore a peaceful Embaſſy to Rome.
Before I went, I ſaw the lovely Maid,
And told her all the Cunning of my Father,
With all the Trouble of my Soul at Parting.
She bid me go, and ſaid it was my Duty
To ſerve my King in Peace, as well as War;
Then breath'd a Sigh, and promis'd to be faithful.
'Twas thus we parted. Soon after I was gone,
Oh, Agoniſtus! fain I would forget it,
My Father all our Letters intercepted;
And, blinded with the daz'ling Luſtre of a Throne,
Rais'd his ambitious Thoughts to Leonora,
And dar'd to aſk her for my Services.
Ag.
Unlucky Thought!
Lear.
Oh! moſt abhorr'd Ambition!
[8] For this my Father was diſplac'd from Court,
And Lord Alcanor grew again in Favour.
The Tuſcan War about that Time broke out,
When this Lorenzo, this young Rival-Warrior,
Had firſt the Honour to command our Forces;
He roſe in Favour, whilſt I ſet in Shame.
Ag.
Swiftly he roſe, as if the Goddeſs Fortune
Became enamour'd with his many Graces;
No ſooner ſeen, but all her Smiles were on him.
Lear.
For this I was recall'd, diſgrac'd, upbraided, ruin'd,
And baniſh'd from the Sight of Antimora;
Beneath her Window, wet with baleful Dew,
All Night I lay, and told each Star my Grief.
She prais'd my Change, confeſs'd the Prince's Charms,
And all Acceſs deny'd to wretched me;
'Till Love, long tortur'd on the Rack of Grief,
Convinc'd her of my much-wrong'd Innocence;
She ſmil'd, and bid me hope a better Day;
But oh! what Day can I expect to ſee,
If what my Father told me now be true?
Cardono weds the beauteous Antimora;
But haſte, my Friend, tell her Learchus dies,
When e'er ſhe makes that hated Rival happy.
Ag.
I fly; but ſee the Friends appear.
Lear.
Ha! how quick my Spirits move; I'm all on Fire;
What head-ſtrong Rage does Jealouſy inſpire?
This is the Court, ſafe from unhallow'd Strife;
When next we meet, guard well that hated Life;
Thou ſhalt diſpute my Antimora's Charms,
And through this Breaſt make Paſſage to her Arms.
[Ex.
Enter Lorenzo and Cardono.
Lor.
Was that Learchus parted hence?
Card.
It was.
Lor.
They ſay his Mind is rich in ev'ry Virtue;
A Stranger to his Father's canker'd Malice,
And of a friendly Nature; yet I know not,
[9] Something there is that whiſpers to my Soul,
Beware that Race.
Card.
Oh, moſt Prophetick Thought!
Teach Antimora to beware it too;
Forgive my Fears; Lovers have watchful Eyes;
Or I miſtake, or he is much too happy.
Lor.
The Error of thy Fondneſs, nothing more;
She is the Daughter of Antipathy,
Nurs'd up in Hate to that invet'rate Houſe,
And, like my ſelf, unalterable.
Card.
Fain, oh! very fain, would I believe thee;
My Hopes are center'd in that blooming Maid,
And Life, without her, is not worth my Care:
Yet when I ſpeak of my exceſſive Paſſion,
To me ſhe ſeems more cold than Mountain-Snow,
And hears with Unconcern what e'er I ſay;
But if, by Chance, ſome one Learchus name,
A conſcious Bluſh o'er-ſpreads her Face, and ſtrait
She turns away, to hide the riſing Joy.
Lor.
Sure, my Friend, thou doſt miſtake her Looks;
That bold Aſpirer, moſt abhorr'd Antenor,
Once dar'd to aſk the Princeſs for his Son:
Oh! were it but for that preſumptuous Guilt,
I'd ſooner wed my Siſter to Diſhonour,
To Miſery, or Death, than to Learchus.
But ſee! ſhe comes! as I appointed her;
I mean by gentle Means to aid thy Suit.
Card.
The Powers above aſſiſt thee.
Enter Antimora.
Ant.
Cardono with him! Oh! my boading Heart.
[aſide
Card.
Who can deſcribe the Lovers painful Pleaſure
At the Approach of his enchanting Fair?
Anti.
I come to know my deareſt Brother's Will.
Lor.
Come nearer, Siſter; why doſt tremble ſo?
Haſt thou a Cauſe for Fear, my Antimora?
Anti.
I hope I need not fear my gentle Brother;
Whilſt you are ſafe from Wars deſtructive Rage,
And bleſs me with your Smiles, I have no Fear.
Lor.
[10]Am I then dear to thee? tell me my Siſter.
Anti.
Dear as my Life, my Virtue, or my Fame;
You are the fondeſt, trueſt, beſt of Brothers.
Tender and careful as a Guardian Angel:
Since gracious Heaven took my Father from me,
Thy kind Indulgence has ſupply'd his Care;
That Providence may crown thy Hopes and Wiſhes,
Is, each returning Morn, my firſt Requeſt.
Lor.
If thou would'ſt have me credit theſe fond Accents,
Which more, if poſſible, endear thee to me,
Look on Cardono—on this ſuffring Youth,
Who treaſures all his future Hopes in thee;
Pity his Sorrows, and prevent his Fate;
And if no other Merit reach thy Knowledge,
Remember that he is my Friend.
Anti.
That ſpeaks him of a noble Nature, Sir,
And I ſhall ſtill regard him with Eſteem.
Card.
Too weak a Cordial to my fainting Heart,
That ſickens with Deſpair.
[aſide.
Lor.
Eſteem! Think, I prithee, what I owe him,
And help me to diſcharge the mighty Debt;
Oft in the Field he has my Life preſerv'd,
When warm'd with Slaughter, I have ruſh'd too far,
And plung'd my ſelf amongſt my thickeſt Foes,
Hem'd round with Death; and yet he broke thro' all,
Reſolv'd to reſcue, or to periſh with me.
Anti.
Superior Virtue cannot miſs Reward.
Lor.
Thou muſt reward him, Siſter; yes, thou muſt,
If I have any Intereſt in thy Breaſt;
If I have well obey'd our Father's Charge,
And been a Father to thee; or, if thou
Haſt not forgot his dying laſt Command,
Never to wed without my Approbation,
Then, if thoud'ſt know me happy, make him ſo.
Anti.
Forbear, thou kind Protector of my Youth,
Forbear to wound thy Antimora thus;
Nor vainly aſk what I can never grant.
There was a Time you would have ſought my Peace;
Give me not Cauſe to think you love me leſs.
Lor.
Thou'rt dearer to me than the Smiles of Kings,
My Hopes of Glory, or immortal Fame;
[11] And therefore 'tis that I would place thee here,
Safe in the Arms of this deſerving Man,
Who merits, and who fondly loves thee.
Anti.
Think you, my Lord Cardono, this the Way?
Uſe you Authority to gain your Wiſhes?
Power may diſpoſe of Life; but reſt aſſur'd
A gen'rous Mind can never be compell'd.
Card.
Alas! my Friend, your Kindneſs has un⯑done me.
Lor.
Take heed, my Siſter, how you wake mine Anger,
Which will, like Light'ning, blaſt thy unwary Soul:
Is there a Form thy erring Choice prefers,
To this brave Man? My Rage will find him out,
And hurl a ſwift Deſtruction on his Head:
Nay, do not weep, Tears will avail thee nothing;
Can it be poſſible thou ſhouldſt forget
From whence thou art, and liſten to Learchus,
The Son of that vile Parricide Antenor?
Deteſted Thought!
Anti.
Oh wretched Antimora!
Lor.
Ha! dar'ſt thou to ſigh for him, degen'rate Wretch!
Then hear me, Madam, and obſerve me well;
Teach thy fond Heart t'accept the proffer'd Good,
Or from thy Diſobedience date long Woe;
Affection ſhall give Place to vow'd Severity;
Unſeen, unnam'd, unpity'd, ſhalt thou live,
And waſte the tedious Hours in vain Remorſe;
Nor will I ever hold Diſcourſe with thee,
But to upbraid thy Weakneſs.
Anti.
Oh! my Brother! my only Friend on Earth!
[kneels.
Recal thoſe Words, thoſe dreadful haſty Words,
And rather kill me any other Way.
Card.
Oh! hold Lorenzo, I can bear no more.
[raiſes her.
Jealouſy, Diſappointments, and Deſpair,
Are Joys to what my Heart this Moment feels;
She muſt have Eaſe, whatever comes of me.
Anti.
Where have you loſt your wonted Tenderneſs?
Think if our deareſt Father now were living,
[12] And ſhould impoſe ſuch harſh Commands on you,
Againſt your Inclination, charge you wed,
Or if like me you lov'd where Tyes of Duty
Make that Love a Crime, what would you do?
Lor.
She touches me indeed—Prithee comply.
Anti.
If Antimora may have Leave to plead;
If I have yet a Place in your Eſteem;
If from your Breaſt you have not raz'd me quite,
Give to my throbbing Heart a little Time
To weigh the many Cares which hang upon it;
And I muſt beg, that you, my Lord Cardono,
No longer would inſiſt upon his Power;
Urge not a Cauſe, that may increaſe Debate
Between the kindeſt, moſt united Pair
That e'er one Mother bore.
Card.
Severe Requeſt; but I obey.
Lor.
Take thy Deſire, my Siſter; but remember,
That if you wou'd preſerve a Brother's Love,
Let not the Woman ſway thee to thy Ruin.
Go then, I ſay, and ſummon all thy Reaſon,
Direct the Ballance with an even Hand;
Conſider, Duty, Honour, Gratitude,
Are poiz'd againſt that Trifle, Inclination.
Then let Impartial Judgment guide thy Choice;
Tear from thy Virgin Breaſt th' inglorious Paſſion,
If thou regard'ſt thy own, or Brother's Fame.
Car.
Remember my Deſpair, for the ſame Breath
Which makes him happy, gives me certain Death.
[Ex. Lorenzo and Cardono.
Anti.
What dire malignant Planet rul'd my Fate?
Why was I born to Love where I ſhould hate?
Where I ſhould hate! No I ſhould all Things Love,
Such are the Dictates of the Powers above;
Then what they teach, they ſurely will defend,
On their great Care ſhall all my Hopes depend,
To crown my Love, or give my Life an End.
[Exit.
Enter Antenor, and hears her laſt Words.
Ante.
Curſe on thy Brother, how I hate his Sight;
Yet, like his evil Genius, I purſue him,
[13] I have alarm'd the King; that Work is o'er;
And now th' Embaſſadors from Tuſcany,
Purſuant to the Advice I ſent that Duke,
Bring with them Propoſitions for a Marriage,
And with unweary'd Diligence attend
And watch thoſe Steps which bring his Ruin on,
Between that Prince and Leonora.
To Day they have their Audience of the King;
Methinks it ſuits my Purpoſe well:
But ſee, the King appears.
Enter KING.
King.
Where art thou hid, Antenor?
When moſt I want thee, thou doſt ſhun me moſt;
I like it not.
Ant.
What would my gracious Lord?
King.
Thou haſt convey'd a Sting into my Breaſt,
Which ſtill, the more I labour to draw forth,
With double Anguiſh deeper points its Way.
What doſt thou know, that has ſo greatly mov'd thee
T' inſtil the ſubtil Poyſon of Diſtruſt,
And ſtir my Nature up againſt my Child?
Ant.
If my inceſſant Duty, careful Fears,
Ever upon the Guard for you and Glory,
Offend my Royal Maſter, I am ſilent;
Forgive my Zeal, and I'll obſerve no more.
King.
I know Ambition is thy darling Sin,
'Bating that I do believe thee honeſt;
Then leave theſe doubling Arts, and ſpeak thy Purpoſe,
Why doſt thou ſigh, and fold thy aged Arms,
Expreſſive Signs of ſome approaching Miſchief,
Still warning me, in Whiſpers, as I paſs,
To obſerve the Princeſs Leonora?
Ant.
This I have done:
But if I am too loyal, too ſincere;
If Apprehenſion grows too ſwift in me,
Give up the Charge you did intruſt me with,
To ſome more worthy of your Confidence;
Who, when they have obey'd your ſtrict Command,
And learnt each private Motion of your Court,
[14] May cautiouſly diſcover what will pleaſe,
And paſs in Silence what you fear to know.
King.
Tortures and Death pierce me at once, and ſpeak
Whate'er it be, and rid my Expectation.
Some ſecret Plot againſt my Life and Crown.
Much rather had I hear of brooding Treaſon,
Of raging Peſtilence, or blazing Cities,
Prodigious Earthquakes, univerſal Ruin,
Than ought which touches Leonora's Fame.
Ant.
That I had dy'd, ere given the ſecret Vent;
I beg your Majeſty will urge no more
This hated Subject.
King.
Urge not my Temper! no, I charge thee do not;
Thou haſt rais'd my Curioſity ſo high,
Or give me Eaſe, or Racks ſhall force it from thee.
Ant.
What ſad Diſtraction tears my aged Breaſt?
Oh! think how much the Tale will wound you, Sir,
And let me keep the fatal Secret hid.
King.
Speak, I command thee.
Ant.
Oh, my tortur'd Soul! the Princeſs loves—
King.
Say'ſt thou! ha! whom does ſhe love?
Ant.
The fatal Secret trembles on my Tongue,
And fears to fall—Lorenzo.
King.
Ha! have a Care,
I ſhall not credit this too eaſily.
Ant.
Alas! great Sir, my Heart would dance with Joy,
Could I but doubt the wretched Truth I tell,
Which I ſhall ever mourn; but 'tis moſt certain
Her Heart and beauteous Perſon are beſtow'd
On that ſelected Man—
King.
Traytor, 'tis falſe! I know thou hat'ſt Lorenzo;
The ancient Quarrel 'twixt his Blood and thine
Has made a Villain of thee—
Ant.
This I fear'd! Oh! hard Return for Loyalty.
King.
If thou doſt not prove this Accuſation,
Thy Head ſhall anſwer it.
Ant.
Be it as you ſay.
If I diſcover not, near to the Bower,
A Place thro' which at Midnight he's let in;
And ſure the Purpoſe is not hard to gueſs.
King.
[15]Do this, Antenor, and my Heart is thine;
My Pulſe beats high, impatient of Revenge,
And Speech grows painful, choak'd with Indignation;
Down all my wild Reſentments for a while,
And let me ſee, and judge like Majeſty.
Oh! Leonora, if thou'rt fall'n ſo low,
To hold thy nightly Revels with my Slave,
There's not a Rack thy Crimes can make me feel,
But I will double it upon you both:
Ling'ring, unheard of Torments you ſhall prove,
And curſe the fatal Sweets of guilty Love.
[Exeunt.
The End of the Firſt ACT.
ACT II.
[16]SCENE a Room of State, the KING and Leonora ſeated on a Throne, attended by Antenor, Lorenzo, Learchus, Cardono, Agoniſtus, &c.
Embaſſadors at a Diſtance.
King.
MY Lords, I've in this Preſence choſe to hear
What 'tis the Duke of Tuſcany demands;
Proceed, and let us know your Meſſage.
Emb.
Our Royal Maſter, much renown'd in Arms,
(Witneſs the many Conqueſts he has gain'd,
Tho' Victory of late declar'd for you)
Charg'd us to ſay, Succeſs is not infur'd;
You cannot bribe the fickle Goddeſs; ſtay,
She will not long forſake his vet'ran Bands,
Choice harden'd Troops, unus'd to fly the Field:
But yet to cultivate a Friendſhip with you,
So firm and ſtrict, it may to Ages laſt;
Yet, even now, whilſt ready Warriors wait,
He offers Peace.
King.
On what Conditions does your Maſter ſend?
Emb.
Conditions, Sir! he did not term 'em ſo,
But Supplication to your Royal Will,
That this fair Princeſs, beauteous Leonora,
Would, with your Leave, receive him for her Huſband.
Lor.
[17]Ha!
Emb.
And join the long diſputed Lands, in Peace,
To theſe of Lombardy.
Ant.
I ſee Lorenzo gathers up his Brows;
This Propoſal ſtings him to the Soul.
[Aſide.
King.
Had he been Conqueror, thus he might have aſk'd;
But tell your Duke I have not yet forgotten
His great Injuſtice to the Duke of Milan.
He took th' Advantage of the Turkiſh War,
When all my Force was bent againſt the Infidels,
To chace my Uncle from his Dukedom forth,
And ſet a bold Uſurper in his Stead.
Theſe twenty Years he has an Exile been,
He, and one only Son; nor know we where,
Or to what Country, if alive, they're driven;
By which my Daughter is become the Heir
Of this my Kingdom; yet I'll not force her Will,
But leave it free; and therefore ſhe ſhall anſwer ye.
Lor.
A thouſand Bleſſings follow that Indulgence.
[Aſide.
Leon.
Since I've my Royal Father's Leave to ſpeak,
I tell you, Sirs, that your Requeſt is bold.
Your ſinking Maſter, half ſubdu'd, demands
Our populous Kingdom to recruit his own,
And I muſt be the Paſſport to convey it.
There's more Ambition in his Eyes, than Love;
'Tis for my Dowry, not for me he ſues.
Tell him I ſcorn his Offer, with his Crown;
And when (tho' long avert it, gracious Heaven)
This happy Kingdom ſhall devolve on me,
I will defend it with my utmoſt Strength,
To this ſmall Tract of Earth, whereon I ſtand,
E'er give a Nation to a vanquiſh'd Foe.
He ſhould have been the Monarch of the World;
His conqu'ring Legions drawn around our Walls;
His batt'ring Cannon playing on the Town,
And dreadſul Famine raging thro' the Streets;
Our trembling Maids and Matrons drown'd in Tears,
E'er this Way made Propoſals for a Peace.
Lor.
The Muſick of the Spheres dwell in her Voice,
And everlaſting Love upon her Tongue.
[Aſide.
Emb.
[18]Is this the Anſwer we muſt carry back?
And does your Majeſty approve this Scorn?
King.
I do; ſo tell your Duke from me.
[...]mb.
Then once again prepare for Battel, Sir;
You'll find our Maſter ſtrong enough to cope ye,
And make you well repent this haughty Port.
King.
Let him come on again, we'll vanquiſh him;
Go, bring your boaſted Squadrons to the Field;
I've not a Man but glows with eager Courage,
To meet, and chaſe them o're the bloody Plain.
Emb.
Your boaſted Valour frights us not, great Sir,
But ſpurs us to the Field.
[Ex. Embaſſadors.
King.
Now let me embrace my brave Defenders;
Lorenzo, thou art welcome to my Arms;
Nature in thee has ſhown a Prodigy;
In War thour't fierce, in Peace the Child of Softneſs;
One wou'd imagine Envy's ſelf might ſpare thee.
Lor.
The mighty Favours which you heap upon me,
My Royal Maſter, fill my Soul with Gratitude.
King.
But wherefore keeps Learchus from our Pre⯑ſence;
Is there not Room in Hearts of mighty Kings
To hold the Worth of all deſerving Men?
Lear.
I attend your Majeſty.
King.
Come near, Learchus, thou haſt ſerv'd me well,
And tho' of late thou haſt not fought my Battels,
For ſecret Reaſons from thy Charge remov'd,
I Love thee ſtill; and to confirm I do,
I make thee Governor of the Citadel
And Royal Fort.
Lear.
My Life ſhall anſwer for th' important Truſt:
Will Antimora come?
[to Agoniſtus.
Ago.
She anſwer'd me, in Tears, ſhe would.
[aſide to him.
Ant.
The King ſeems greatly pleas'd, and wiſely hides
The Purpoſe he intends—ſhort are your Joys.
Ye falſe ones!
[aſide.
Leon.
The King, my Lord, is laviſh in your Praiſe;
But where ſhould grateful Monarchs caſt their Smiles,
[19] If not on Heroes that have ſerv'd them truly?
Lor.
I plead no Merit for my Service, Madam;
I owe my Prince's Bounty this Applauſe.
If I ſee thee not this Night, my Laurels fade,
And certain Death e'er Morning will o'ertake me.
[aſide to Leonora.
Leon.
We are obſerv'd, the Paſſage ſhall be open.
Ant.
By their Eyes I know the Appointment's made;
That Whiſper told the Hour—Did they but know
How very fatal I ſhall make their Meeting,
Their Inclination would grow cool upon't.
It joys my Soul, to think I ſhall undo them.
King.
Meet me here ſome Moments hence, Antenor;
And now let all withdraw but Leonora.
[Exeunt.
Daughter, methinks this Day you're doubly mine;
Your Words contain'd what e're my Heart could wiſh;
In thee alone I treaſure all my Hopes,
And have in thee forgot thy Mother's Loſs.
And well, I think, thou wilt deſerve this Fondneſs:
Say, wilt thou not, my Child? ſurely thou wilt,
And ne'er be juſtly caſt from out my Breaſt.
Leon.
Alas! what means my Father? why this Cau⯑tion?
King.
You have this Day diſdain'd a Sovereign Prince;
Let no mean Choice diſgrace ſo juſt a Pride,
And ſully all thy Virgin Fame at once;
But, like my Child, like thee, apparent Heir
Of our fair Lombardy, ſupport thy Grandeur.
Leon.
My Heart beats faſt at the Alarm of Fear.
[aſide.
King.
I do remember thou haſt often told me,
Thy Heart burnt only with the Fire of Greatneſs,
And Love no Converſe held within thy Boſom;
And that my Glory fill'd each Thought of thine,
And bore thee up to Empire.
Leon.
Wherein have I betray'd more Weakneſs, Sir?
And why am I accus'd of Diſobedience?
King.
Do I accuſe thee, Leonora? No:
I warn thee only of degenerate Love.
Cou'd I accuſe, I ſhould not argue thus;
Thou know'ſt my Temper is compos'd of Fire,
[20] Tho', like the Steel, when unprovok'd, 'tis cool;
But if the Flint of Diſobedience ſtrikes,
Fierce Sparks fly out, and threaten Ruin round.
Leon.
Do not I guard the Actions of my Life
With all that dutious Care which you directed?
Do I not wait my Royal Father's Will,
Deny Acceſs to all the ſhining Court?
Except in publick, and by your Command,
I never ſee the Heroes of our Age.
King.
Pray Heaven it prove ſo.
[aſide.
Leon.
Within the Bower, by your ſelf aſign'd,
Do I not paſs my Time amongſt my Maids,
Nor once appear, but when you call me forth?
King.
All this I know, at leaſt I think I know it.
Leon.
Think! grant, Heav'n, I'm not betray'd!
[aſide.
King.
But do not truſt to ſecret Management;
For Kings have many Eyes, and watchful all,
As thoſe bright Lamps of Heav'n; that wake forever;
They can, tho' all the Curtains of the Night
Be drawn, and ſolemn Darkneſs reigns around,
Diſcover every Action of their Court.
Leon.
'Tis ſo! and we are certainly undone.
I cannot gueſs what 'tis my Father means,
Or what the Purport of your Words intend.
If any Villain has traduc'd my Fame,
And render'd me ſuſpected to your Majeſty,
Give me to know my vile Accuſer ſtrait,
And let the Wretch confront me inſtantly.
King.
If thou art innocent, as I hope thou art,
Then thou haſt nought to fear.
Leon.
If I am innocent! oh my throbing Heart
Flutters and leaps, as it would force my Breaſt,
And muſt portend ſome Miſchief.
[aſide.
Enter Antenor.
Ha! now I no longer am concern'd to know
Who has created all theſe Doubts within you;
For here, here comes the ſubtile working Mole,
That heaves your Breaſt, and breaks the Plain of Nature,
Purely for Miſchief, and his own Revenge;
[21] That you refus'd his Son, ſtill galls his Soul;
The Viper ſeem'd but to have loſt his Sting,
'Till he had wound himſelf into your Boſom,
Where he at once might ſtrike your tend'reſt Part.
Ante.
Alas! what have I done, my gracious Princeſs?
Leon.
Go on, vile Politician, I defy thee;
Spread all thy Nets, and magnify Suſpicion,
'Till it appears great as thy own Villainy,
In a moſt hideous, moſt gigantick Form,
To fright the World from thy Society;
From thy own Bowels ſpin the pois'nous Thread,
That may entangle Innocence and Honour:
My ſpotleſs Fame ſhall break thy Cobweb-Arts;
My Virtue all thy treacherous Plots confound,
And, like a Bolt of Thunder, ſtrike thee to the Ground.
Exit Leonora.
Ante.
I ſoon ſhall calm this guilty Rage.
Has then my Royal Lord inform'd the Princeſs
Of his Suſpicion, that ſhe's thus provok'd
Againſt the humbleſt Servant of his Will,
And threatens to deſtroy me?
King.
If what thou haſt declar'd, be honeſt Truth,
Thou can'ſt not fear, thou haſt a King thy Guard;
But take thou Heed, be careful in the Proof;
Thou ſeeſt ſhe does defy thee.
Ante.
Her Paſſion ſhows her Guiltineſs the more;
It is the Nature of the Sex to do it:
They think to ſcreen their Faults with empty Clamour,
And ſtop our juſt Reſentments with their Noiſe;
But if your Majeſty diſcover'd ought
That may inſtruct her to prevent our Purpoſe,
Then I muſt fall a Sacrifice indeed.
King.
Thou'rt ſafe from that; proceed, and ſay,
Haſt thou learnt more ſince laſt I ſaw thee?
Ante.
This Night I know they meet; I've plac'd a Spy,
Who is to give me Notice when they're met;
And then—
King.
Then they ſhall part for ever.
Ante.
Pleaſe you to walk towards the Laurel-Grove,
Where I have order'd this old Spy to meet us.
King.
[22]Thy Words but add freſh Fuel to my Flame:
Lead on, and let me view at once my Shame,
And with his Blood waſh off th' inglorious Stain.
[Exeunt.
Enter Learchus meeting Antimora in Tears
Lear.
Why doſt thou dreſs thoſe beauteous Eyes in Tears?
Why does thy Boſom thus with Sorrows heave?
Where are the Gares of ſoft conſenting Love,
To breath new Life, and wake my dying Hopes?
Anti.
Alas! Learchus, Fate's become our Foe,
And now the fatal Warrant's iſſu'd forth
To blaſt our Loves, and part our meeting Souls;
Elſe, why ſhould ſuch a faithful Pair as we,
So often be obſtructed in our Happineſs?
Lear.
Oh! much I fear; my Father ſpoke too true.
[aſide.
What means my Love? has there ſome new Misfortune
Sprung up to intercept our promis'd Joy?
Anti.
Is not thy Father fond of Wealth and Power,
And deaf to all thy tender Sighs of Love?
His cruel Nature never will forgive,
Nor will my Brother bear to hear his Name;
But what is worſe, far worſe than that, this Day
He has commanded me to love his Friend;
And, Spight of all Objections I can make,
He grows, like Fate, inexorable.
Lear.
Oh! Antimora! Love's become enrag'd
At thy too tedious, thy too long Delay,
And this Way takes to mar our promis'd Joys,
And thus revenge the Breach of his Command,
For diſobeying his firſt eldeſt Law.
Why throw we not this Tyrant, Duty, off,
And from bleſs'd Hymen's Torch light up that Flame,
Which only can expire with our Lives?
To humble Plains let us from Courts retire,
Serene and quiet as the firſt kind Pair,
Before Ambition taught the Way to Sin.
Ant.
Nay, even there our cruel Foes would find us out;
And, Time, perhaps, might change thy Nature too,
When thou ſhould'ſt find thy Father's Hate incline
[23] To baniſh thee for ever from his Breaſt.
Then thou would'ſt turn thy Eyes upon this Face,
And ſcornfully diſdain what now allures thee,
And to ſome Rival, fairer in thy Eyes,
Sacrifice thy Antimora.
Lear.
Why doſt thou ſeek for Words to wound my Soul?
Is there, throughout this ſpacious Globe of Earth,
Another Woman I would change thee for?
Ant.
Oh! thou doſt flatter me, alas, in vain;
We were not born to make each other happy.
Lear.
Art thou not Proof againſt thy Brother, then?
Say! muſt I be ſupplanted by Cardono?
Ant.
Witneſs theſe ſtreaming Eyes, with Sorrow full;
This faithful Heart, which pants to ev'ry Fear;
No other He ſhall e'er poſſeſs this Breaſt:
No, my Learchus, thou art Lord of me;
My Vows to thee, Death, only Death, ſhall break.
Lear.
Oh Tranſport!
Anti.
If I have wiſh'd or had one Moment's Care,
Or any Hope, but once to be thy Wife,
Deprive me, Heaven, of all your Bleſſings here;
Let endleſs Wailings and eternal Shame
Surround and blaſt my Fame and me for ever.
Lear.
Oh! Words to heal, and charm Deſpair away,
And Vows as faithful as a dying Saint;
But theſe, my Love, do but increaſe my Pain:
To know thee true, and not to know thee mine,
Is plunging me at once in greater Miſery.
Oh! ſay, thou ſecret Ruler of my Fate,
Why am I kept thus ling'ring on the Rack?
If, by your hard Decrees, I am to loſe
This beauteous Pattern of your wond'rous Skill,
This lovely, faithful Partner of my Heart,
In Mercy double all your Store of Curſes,
Then hurl them down on this devoted Head,
And at one Stroke diſpatch me.
Anti.
Ceaſe to offend thoſe awful Powers, from whom
We only can expect to find Redreſs:
With Patience wait for me, as I for thee;
Some lucky Minute may perhaps appear
To bleſs our Hopes, and conſummate our Vows,
[24] Oh! were our Houſe's Quarrel but compos'd,
We then might be moſt happy.
Lear.
I could curſe all that keep thoſe Feuds awake,
Did not my Duty huſh me into Silence.
Anti.
Be calm, my Love, and truſt my Virgin Vows;
Truſt thy own Heart, and our united Souls;
Time and our Conſtancy, ſhall conquer all.
From Age to Age, by ev'ry faithful Pair,
The Story of our Paſſion ſhall be told,
And Lovers quote it, to expreſs their own by.
But prithee go, leſt Envy ſhould betray us:
Soon as the Princeſs to her Privacy
(As 'tis her Cuſtom every Day) retires,
I'll meet thee here again.
Lear.
Wilt thou, my Love, my deareſt Antimora?
Angels protect and guard my lovely Maid;
Still bleſs her Days with circling downy Joys,
And crown with balmy Slumbers all her Nights;
Dreſs all her Dreams with tendereſt Thoughts of me,
And let 'em whiſper to her faithful Heart
How much Learchus loves her.
Anti.
May gracious Heaven upon thy Head ſhow'r down
All thoſe choice Bleſſings thou haſt begg'd for me;
May Joys attend thee, laſting as thy Flame,
Great as thy Worth, and glorious as thy Virtues.
Lear.
Oh! matchleſs Excellence!
One kind Embrace, one fragrant Kiſs beſtow!
Oh! Joy ſupream! Oh perfect Bliſs below!
Oh, Antimora, ſhould I more receive,
Should Fortune give me all thou haſt to give,
My Strength wou'd fail, and I want Power to live.
[Exeunt.
The End of the Second ACT.
ACT III.
[25]SCENE the Princeſs's Apartment.
Enter on one Side Leonora, on the other Lorenzo.
LEONORA.
HA! Lorenzo!
Why haſt thou raſhly diſobey'd my Meſſage?
Lor.
What means my Love?
Leon.
Saw'ſt thou not my Page? I ſent him to thee,
And in my Letter warn'd thee not to come;
I fear we meet in Secret now no longer.
Lor.
I ſaw him not; but whence proceeds this Fear?
Leon.
Antenor, that old ſubtil lurking Villain,
This Day has hinted ſomething to the King;
And tho' in outward Form I bore it off,
I with Confuſion ſhudder'd all within:
None but the holy Man, who join'd our Hands,
Whoſe Faith's undoubted, knows our ſecret Loves;
And yet I tremble, leſt we are betray'd,
Lor.
Be calm, my Love; we muſt, we are ſecure;
Come to my Arms, and looſe all Thoughts of Fear.
'Twas I diſcover'd firſt this hidden Cave,
This ſecret Paſſage to this bliſsful Bower,
Hew'd by theſe Hands alone, at Dead of Night,
Not truſting any other with my Purpoſe;
Whilſt Love, propitious to our mutual Wiſhes,
Bleſs'd my Endeavours, and inſpir'd my Strength.
Thus unperceiv'd by the malicious World,
I ſteal to lovely Leonora's Boſom,
And gather there what Kings requeſt in vain.
Leon.
[26]Oh! Youth belov'd! thou Darling of my Soul▪
Thy Words would charm, and lull my Fears aſleep,
Were there not ſomething more than common in them.
Lor.
Oh, my fair Princeſs! by our Loves I ſwear,
The happieſt Moments of my Life, are theſe;
Theſe which I paſs with beauteous Leonora.
Thou art the Guardian Angel, that defends me
Thro' all the various Dangers of the Field;
The Mem'ry of theſe Kiſſes fire my Soul;
And fond Deſire of ſeeing thee again,
Gives true Herculean Courage to my Arm.
Ye dull Philoſophers, that place Delight
And mighty Pleaſure in any Thing but Love,
My Leonora's Form ne'er fill'd your Eye,
Nor ſhot her Beams of Light into your Soul.
Oh! thou art fairer than the Poets feign
The Queen of Love, in her moſt artful Dreſs;
Thy very Smiles are Graces waiting round,
Upon thy Lips the little Cupids hang,
And baſk and wanton in thy Eyes by Turns.
Leon.
My deareſt Lord, my faithful Huſband, ceafe
Theſe laviſh Raptures which thy Love inſpires.
I that have liſten'd to thy Voice all Day,
With equal Tranſport claſp'd thee in my Arms,
And bounded ev'ry, wiſh within thy Boſom,
Now ſhrink and tremble at this fatal Meeting,
For ſomething boding hovers o'er my Heart,
And checks the wonted Joy thy Preſence brings.
Be gone, my Love, and endleſs Bleſſings wait thee.
Lor.
Unkindly urg'd; why wilt thou puſh me from thee?
Pleaſure forſakes me, when I quit theſe Arms.
In Council or in Camp, my Soul's with thee,
And my charm'd Tongue can ſcarce forbear thy Name;
For Love and Leonora fill my Mind.
Thou'rt all the Subject that my Thoughts purſue;
Oh! that I could hold thee thus for ever,
Not all the Wealth that Indian Mines produce,
Should bribe me to forſake thee.
Leon.
Thy exceſſive Paſſion will undo us;
Prithee, no more—I do conjure thee leave me.
Lor.
[27]Oh! thou haſt rais'd me to ſuch Height of Bliſs,
That when my Soul is ſummon'd hence by Fate,
To taſte the promis'd Joys of Paradice,
It cannot ſure be more tranſported there.
Enter King and Antenor above.
Ante.
Now let your Majeſty believe your Ears.
King.
I cannot! they are falſe—Confound the Traytor;
'Tis Magick ſure—'Tis not Leonora.
Leon.
Hark! heard you not a Voice? Sure 'twas my Name.
Ante.
Speak lower, Sir, or you will loſe your Prey.
Lor.
Thy Fears alone invade thy Ear, my Queen.
King.
Ha! his Queen! His Head ſhall anſwer for the Treaſon.
Lor.
Unbroken Silence reigns around this Place,
And nought intrudes, but murm'ring Sighs of Love.
Leon.
Sure 'tis the Terror of the Night I feel,
Or elſe ſome boding Miſchief threatens near:
Methinks I ſee Antenor waiting ſtill,
The ready Inſtrument of Fate he ſtands.
I know not why, but ſtill my Thoughts are on him,
As if my Genius whiſper'd me, Beware;
For he alone will ruin all thy Peace,
And yet my dear Defender muſt be gone:
Nay, do not loiter then, but haſte away;
When thou art ſafe, perhaps my Fears may ceaſe.
Lor.
And wilt thou drive me from theſe Arms ſo ſoon?
And doſt thou think I can conſent to leave thee?
Love is not ſatisfy'd with Words alone;
He would have kinder, ſofter Entertainment.
Leon.
When did I beg for parting, 'till this Hour?
Something there is that whiſpers to my Heart,
This Meeting will be fatal to us both;
And yet thou'lt ſtay, and pull our Ruin on.
Lor.
Haſte thee, auſpicious Regent of the Night,
And ſudden bid the friendly Shades return,
When on my Boſom thou ſhalt loſe theſe Fears.
Leon.
Perhaps they ſpring but from this Day's Alarm;
If ſo it prove, forgive a Woman's Weakneſs.
[28] Away; open the Cave, deſcend, and leave me;
If nothing intervene to croſs our Wiſhes,
To Morrow Night I will again expect thee.
Lor.
Death only can deprive that Expectation;
Earewel, thou faireſt, beſt of all thy Kind.
[Opens the Trap, and deſcends.
King.
Well haſt thou ſaid; Death ſhall prevent thy Hopes.
Haſte then, Antenor; thou who know'ſt the Paſſage,
Go, take my Guards, and ſeize th' audacious Traytor.
Ant.
I fly, my gracious Sovereign.
[Ex. King and Antenor.
Leon.
Farewell! Alas! why did he ſay farewell?
That was, methinks, unluckily expreſs'd.
How apt is Nature, when the Fancy works,
To obſerve each trifling Words as ominous?
Why theſe unneceſſary Doubts upon me?
Have I done ought to ſully my fair Name,
Or taint my Virtue in this ſecret Choice?
In Fame's Record Lorenzo foremoſt ſtands
The firſt of Heroes, yet ſurpaſs'd by none.
No conſcious Bluſhes to my Cheeks can riſe,
Which drag Repentance from a guilty Mind.
He is my Huſband, and my Soul's at Peace;
That Thought ſupports me thro' all Storms of Fate.
No pois'nous Damp below can blaſt my Love,
Secure of juſt Protection from above.
[Exit.
SCENE the Grove adjoining to the Bower.
Enter Antenor and Guards.
Ant.
Here plant your ſelves, here, on this very Spot,
And from that Cave you'll inſtantly behold.
Th' impious Traytor which you are to ſeize,
And bear a Pris'ner to the Royal Fort.
Be not ſurpriz'd when you behold the Man;
'Tis the King's Order, and you muſt obey;
The Crime is what deſerves no good Man's Pity.
Capt.
[29]Our Bus'neſs is not to diſpute, my Lord.
Ante.
Now, tow'ring Lord Lorenzo, thou ſhalt fall;
Thy better Fortune ſmiles no longer on thee:
The fatal Siſters have reſign'd to me
The ſlender Thread which holds thy mortal Being;
And like an Arrow thro' the yielding Air,
I fly with eager Haſte to cut it—Yes,
Thou once remov'd, my Son again ſhall riſe;
When I have prov'd the haughty Princeſs guilty,
And in a Father's Breaſt diſarm'd her Power,
She'll dare no more t'oppoſe my purpos'd Greatneſs.
Be ready, for the Mole begins to work—Seize him.
Lor.
Ha! Villains!
[The Trap opens, and Lorenzo comes up; they ſeize him.
Capt.
Ha! what do I ſee?
Oh! why to me gave you this Charge, my Lord?
Wou'd I had dy'd, e'er I had rais'd my Hand.
Againſt the braveſt, beſt of Men in War.
Set him free again.
[to the Guards.
Ante.
Your every Life ſhall anſwer his Eſcape;
He dies, that dares to mention Freedom for him.
Lor.
Oh, Traytor! art thou there, thou ſubtil Fiend▪
Thou blackeſt truſty Inſtrument of Hell?
Nay, then I know my Doom's irrevocable.
Now, Fellow-Soldiers, bear your General hence,
To darkeſt Dungeons, cruel Racks, or Death;
His Sight is worſe than all the Pains they bring.
Ante.
Rail on, and ſee who thou can'ſt wound with Words;
All other Means arewanting to thee now.
Lor.
No, thou'rt not worth my Breath; and I diſ⯑dain thee:
Come, my brave Warriors, who ſo oft have been
My Country's Bulwarks, and her ſure Defence;
You, who at my Command have ſcatter'd Death
As thick as Corn from out the Sower's Hand,
And drove whole Armies o'er the bloody Plain,
Let not my Fate miſguide your loyal Minds.
Tho' none can guard againſt a Villain's Arts,
Fortune can ne'er ſubdue a brave Man's Soul:
In Love and War, I've reach'd the top-moſt Summit,
[30] And Ages hence I ſhall be read with Wonder;
Whilſt thou, the moſt deteſted of thy Kind,
Shalt be with Horror mention'd—Lead on.
Ante.
Stay, I command you, 'till this Wretch ſhall know
To me alone he owes this Turn of Fate.
'Twas I that watch'd your Midnight Steps, and found
That dark Conveyance to your wanton Sports.
Lor.
Hold, Monſter! Hell-hound; for thy Life, I charge thee,
Touch not a Fame thy Mother never knew;
Nor thy whole Lineage of the Female Race,
E'er ſince the firſt created Maid appear'd;
With Care correct thy bold blaſpheming Tongue,
Leaſt from the Root I tear the Viper out,
And make thee curſe thou e'er hadſt Uſe of Speech.
Ante.
Ha, ha, ha! away with him, and do as I commanded.
Enter Antimora.
Anti.
What horrid Noiſe invades this peaceful Place?
I promis'd here to meet the lovely Youth.
What do I ſee? My Brother ſeiz'd! Oh, ſay
What fatal Miſchief wrought this ſudden Change!
Lor.
Where ſhould the fatal Miſchief be! but there?
Has Hell a more malicious Fiend than he?
Yet in thy Boſom thou wilt hide his Faults,
Embrace his Blood, that gives thy Brother Death.
Go hang upon the Neck of his aſpiring Son,
And kneel for Bleſſings from th' infectious Sire.
Forget my Choice, thy Family, and Name,
And be th' adopted Child to him I hate;
But from this Moment ſee my Face no more.
Anti.
Oh, Brother! oh my tortur'd Soul!
Ante.
My Son! Perdition ſeize him in that Hour
He dares to diſobey the Charge I gave;
Never to think of ought belongs to thee,
I'd rather ſee him on the racking Wheel,
Impal'd, or dead, before my aching Eyes,
Than wedded into any Blood of thine.
[31] Away with him,
And at your Peril lodge him in the Dungeon.
Lor.
Yes, Leonora, I will die for thee,
Without a Groan give up this Puff of Breath:
But when I think what Horror, what Deſpair
Will rend thy Breaſt, for thee alone I fear.
[Ex. guarded.
Anti.
Barbarians, hold! Oh! let me ſpeak but to him.
He's gone, and will not deign to look upon me.
What ſullen Star has clouded all thy Glory?
Our Family is grown the Sport of Fortune,
That, like a Ball, ſhe toſſes to and fro:
This Morning view'd him the Support of Kings;
The Evening ſhews he wants Support himſelf.
Oh! the uncertain Favours of a Court!
Let me think—What, is my Brother ſeiz'd by him
Who gave Learchus Being?—And ſhall I
Stay here, and liſten to his am'rous Tale?
No, Antimora, arm thy tender Breaſt
With Reſolution, and fly hence for ever;
And let thy Fame and Brother fill thy Soul:
But oh! th' Experiment is hard to make,
To hate Learchus for his Father's Sake!
Enter Learchus.
Lear.
My Ears the Eccho caught of ſad Deſpair;
What of Learchus? What of Hate, my Love?
Methinks thoſe Words from Antimora's Tongue,
Blaſt, like a Northern Wind, the op'ning Buds.
Anti.
No, Hate and thee, Learchus, are become
Inſeparable Partners from this Moment;
For oh! there ſtands a Bar between our Loves,
That from each other ſevers us for ever.
Be baniſh'd then both from my Eyes and Heart;
'Tis owing all to thy incidious Father,
By whom my deareſt Brother is betray'd.
Curſe, curſe, Learchus, curſe the fatal Hour,
When the ſoft Paſſion took Poſſeſſion firſt
Of our too eaſy Breaſts, by Fate forbidden:
Curſe the rebellious Thought which firſt inclin'd,
[32] And made us liſten to each other's Vows.
But oh! ten thouſand Curſes on the Cauſe,
Yes, multiply them, Heav'n, and fix 'em all,
All on thy Father's Guilt, which parts us now!
[Ex.
Lear.
I am aſtoniſh'd! Stay, my Love—ſhe's gone,
And left me in ſuch Labyrinths of Thought,
My Senſes all ſeem wilder'd!
Enter Agoniſtus.
Ago.
My Lord, why ſtand you muſing here alone,
When all the Court's in Hurry and Confuſion?
Your Father has diſcover'd to the King
Some horrid Treaſon by Lorenzo done,
For which he's ſent a Pris'ner to the Fort.
Lear.
Say'ſt thou! A Pris'ner! then I know the Cauſe
Of Antimora's killing Grief. Away,
And let me learn the Story of his Crimes.
[Exeunt.
The SCENE changes to the Princeſs's A⯑partment. She is diſcover'd reading.
Leon.
Here have I met a Tale ſo mourn'd by Ovid,
So tenderly expreſs'd to move our Pity,
Where Canace, by her Father's dread Command,
Preſents the Dagger to her panting Breaſt.
Ha! why am I alarm'd at this?—Her Guilt.
Is what my chaſter Boſom never knew;
And yet methinks I feel a Fear upon me.
Enter Lady.
Lady.
Oh! pardon my Intruſion, Royal Madam,
The King denies without to hear us ſpeak;
But with a ſullen clouded Brow demands
To ſee you inſtantly—
Leon.
He does not uſe to treat me thus; but go,
Call in my Women, and leave free the Paſſage.
[33]Enter Ladies, and ſtand behind her. Then the King and Guards.
King.
Guards, wait without.
Leon.
My Royal Father.
[Riſes.
King.
Diſmiſs your idle Train;
This is a Scene of Life for us alone,
And where you'll find there's no Attendance wanted.
Leon.
Whatever, Sir, you purpoſe to relate,
Your Daughter yet has never learn'd to fear.
Ladies, withdraw—
[Ex Ladies.
King.
And art thou then ſo harden'd in thy Crimes?
Oh! let my Heart forget a Father's Fondneſs!
Let ſofter Pity fly to ſuff'ring Saints,
Nor once invade the Conference we hold.
Leon.
I cannot gueſs the Tale you mean to tell,
But by your Aſpect know it muſt be dreadful.
Oh! all ye Powers who ſee, and rule this World,
Give me, in this ſevere Extremity,
My Father's Soul, to ſtand my Father's Charge,
My Mother's Purity's already mine!
King.
Ha! dar'ſt thou name thy Mother, vile Con⯑tagion?
She was all Virtue.
Leon.
Oh! do not look ſo fiercely on your Child,
[Kneels.
The only Relict of your once lov'd Queen;
But turn your Eyes, and ſee mine drown'd in Tears;
Thoſe Eyes which you've ſo often kiſs'd, and ſwore
They wore the dear Reſemblance of my Mother;
Which to preſerve from that Deſtroyer, Grief,
You cou'd forego the gay Delights of Empire.
Oh! with that Temper now, that former Fondneſs,
Hear, and forgive the Errors of my Youth.
King.
Blaſt me, ye Powers, if ever I forgive!
No, I will puniſh thee as thou deſerv'ſt;
Remove the Cauſe that led thy Soul aſtray,
And ſhew thee what it is to love a Slave.
Leon.
Unhappy Leonora!
King.
[34]I'll have, for ev'ry Kiſs the Traytor gave thee,
By which he ſtain'd the Glory of his King,
His Fleſh by Morſels torn with Pincers off,
And make a Paſſage for his luſtful Blood,
To waſh thoſe Spots away.
Leon.
Avert it, Heav'n! On me wreak all your Vengeance;
On me, on me your Daughter, let it fall:
But ſpare the Man which I firſt taught to love;
If not for me, oh! for your own Sake ſpare him!
Spare your Defender, for your Kingdom's Sake;
Let him not fall (by whom we're all in Safety)
A Victim to a Politician's Malice.
King.
Periſh that Kingdom with thy ſelf and me,
Whene'er I ſave a Traytor from the Stroke.
Leon.
Oh! Royal Sir, revoke thoſe killing Words,
And call his Services to your Rememb'rance;
The glorious Victories which your Arms have won,
Under the Conduct of my Lord Lorenzo:
'Twas he that ſav'd your Cities from your Foes,
And made the Laurel flouriſh on your Brow:
Remember too, how much you lov'd him for't;
Your Praiſe it was that drew my Eyes that Way,
And your Eſteem created one in me.
King.
Away, and looſe thy Hold! why doſt thou hold me?
Think'ſt thou to ſooth me with thy Eloquence?
Leon.
Oh! 'tis the ſubtil Malice of Antenor;
He looks with envious Eyes upon him,
Becauſe you plac'd him in his Son's Command,
And daſn'd his Hopes, that durſt aſpire to me.
What Trains of Miſchief proud Ambition brings!
Hate, Envy, Jealouſy, and Death ſpring from it.
It breaks all Ties of Blood, all mutual Faith,
And even levels Liberty with Chains.
Oft in the Crimes of one ambitious Man
Have many guiltleſs Nations been involv'd.
King.
Well haſt thou deſcrib'd that curſs'd Ambition
Which rais'd the Viper that my Smiles had form'd,
To wanton with the Honour of his King:
But he ſhall ſuffer long convulſive Pangs,
[35] And vainly aſk us for the Stroke of Grace.
If, as thou ſay'ſt, that thou doſt live by him,
Then when he ceaſes to diffuſe his Warmth,
Thou, like ſome puny Inſect, muſt expire,
And, dying, curſe the Author of thy Shame.
Leon.
Oh, do not think my Fault exceeds Forgive⯑neſs!
My Soul's not conſcious of a Crime 'gainſt Virtue;
I challenge Envy for a ſeeming Cauſe,
That my fair Innocence would bluſh to own.
King.
Audacious Wretch! have I not ſeen thee wan⯑ton?
Loll on his Boſom, and devour his Kiſſes?
Confuſion! dar'ſt thou to talk of Virtue?
Leon.
Alas! the only Place of Reſt for Leonord,
Is in her faithful Huſbands Arms.
King.
Ha! what ſay'ſt thou?
Leon.
He is my Huſband; yes, my wedded Huſband;
Remember, Sir, you left me free to chuſe;
Then, what I chuſe, do not unkindly kill.
King.
Patience, good Heav'n, or I ſhall kill her too;
I would not ſpare him now, to ſave my Crown;
No, this Confeſſion does but wing his Fate;
Off, or I'll ſpurn thee from me.
Leon.
Go on, go on, and ſatisfy your Rage;
[riſes.
Try all the Racks Antenor can invent,
And all that Majeſty incens'd can form,
And ſee with what a Conſtancy of Mind
I am prepar'd to meet your Indignation.
I feel my Spirits gather to my Heart,
And man it out with Courage for the Tryal.
The Ardour of my Flame can ne'er abate,
'Tis chaſte and holy as the Veſtal Rites;
And if you'll rip this Breaſt that heaves with Love,
You'll find his Image ſit triumphant there.
King.
So, brave! but wherefore does my Vengeance loyter?
Soon ſhall thy loaſted Conſtancy be try'd.
Yes, Trayt'reſs! I will teach thy Diſobedience
[36] What 'tis to wound the Fondneſs of a Father,
And make the Heart drop-Blood, that doated on thee.
Leon.
Kill me this Moment.
King.
I diſdain the Proxy;
He, he, for whom thou haſt abandon'd Duty,
Betray'd a Parent, and diſgrac'd a Throne;
He ſhall return the fatal Stroke upon thee.
Hug his Idea, dwell upon his Memory;
For dearly haſt thou bought him—at the Price
Of Honour—of thy Father—and a Crown.
[Exit.
Leon.
Oh dreadful Reſolution!
Hear me, Father! oh, hear me but one Word!
He's gone, he's gone, and with him all my Hopes.
Now, ye malicious Stars, your worſt prepare,
Unite your pois'nous Force, and fix it here.
Let Want of Thought my too much Thought deſtroy,
Let me for Refuge into Madneſs fly,
At once unknowing both of Pain and Joy.
But oh! I rave and waſte my idle Breath;
Fain I'd preſerve him from inglorious Death.
To ſave my Huſband, I will hazard all,
Or bravely periſh with him in his Fall.
Exit.
Enter Antimora and Learchus.
Anti.
Stay, my Learchus, I was looking for thee.
Can'ſt thou forget the Tranſports of my Grief,
And all that it produc'd, when laſt I ſaw thee?
Lear.
Aſk thy own Heart, my Love, when thou wouldſt know
The moſt important ſecret Thought of mine;
For there I treaſure all my Good or Ill.
Anti.
I'm calm and gentle now, as heretofore;
No Fire my Eyes, nor Rage my Heart contains;
My Tongue no Curſes vent againſt thy Father:
Nay, if thou wilt but anſwer my Requeſt,
I can forgive the Injury.
Lear.
What can the Ruler of my Fate intend!
Anti.
[37]Oh! if thy Love but equals half my Woe,
Thou wilt be kind, and eaſe my aching Boſom.
Lear.
Is it in me to give thy Sorrows Eaſe?
And do'ſt thou, can'ſt thou doubt of my Compliance?
My Heart ſprings forth to be inſtructed how
That I may leave ev'n Thought behind to ſerve thee.
Anti.
Thus then, my Brother, by the King condemn'd
To ſuffer in Extremity of Torments,
Th' Idea wounds my Heart beyond Expreſſion,
And only thou can'ſt ſave me from Deſpair.
Wilt thou! Oh! wilt thou promiſe me Relief,
Now when I beg it in extreameſt Need?
[kneels.
Remember once thou waſt a Suppliant too,
Low at my Feet, as I am now at thine;
I pity'd thee, and wip'd thy Tears away.
Lear.
Oh! riſe, my Love, and rack my Soul no longer,
But tell me quickly what this Boon can be,
That thou do'ſt aſk at ſuch a Diſtance of me;
This Ceremony, and this Expectation
Makes it painful to me.
Anti.
Thou, only thou, can'ſt eaſe thy ſelf and me;
Then mark me well, my Brother is thy Pris'ner,
Let him eſcape, and I'm for ever thine.
Lear.
Oh, Antimora! how thou ſhock'ſt my Duty!
But have a Care, make not a Villain of me;
Do not thou preſs me to betray my Truſt;
Who forfeits Honour, will be falſe to Love;
And well I know thou ne'er would'ſt Love me after,
Tho', hurry'd now with Fondneſs for thy Brother,
Thoud'ſt have me do what thou thy ſelf would'ſt blame,
And hate me, ev'n whilſt thou thank'd'ſt me for't;
There is but this one Thing I cou'd refuſe thee.
Anti.
Wilt thou deny my firſt Requeſt, Learchus?
And wil't thou dare to mention Love hereafter?
Lear.
Send me to Lyons raging in their Den,
Long Time pent up, and rav'nous for their Prey;
Command me to encounter Hoſts of Foes,
Tho' certain Death attends on ev'ry Side,
And ſee how readily I will obey thee;
But what concerns my Country or my King,
[38] Love even wants Temptation to betray.
Anti.
Under this feign'd Allegiance thou would'ſt hide
Thy ancient Hatred to my Brother's Name;
But I have found thee out thro' all thy Turnings,
And here I cancel all our former Vows;
Be every Thought of thee torn from my Breaſt,
And Enmity eternal grow between us;
This Hand, on which thou ha'ſt ſo often ſwore,
And kiſs'd, and breath'd thy falſe pretended Flame,
I'll give to him that ſets my Brother free,
And rack my ſelf, to be reveng'd on thee.
[Exit.
Lear.
Was e'er Condition ſo forlorn as mine?
At once fond Love and Duty tear my Boſom.
Love bids my Heart obey without Controul,
But Duty checks my Love, and awes my Soul:
Of theſe two great Extreams which ſhall I take,
Shall I my Miſtreſs or my King forſake?
To both I would be faithful, did I know
What Method I could take to make me ſo.
Direct me, Heav'n, a midſt theſe Doubts that riſe,
Which to preſerve, and which to ſacrifice.
[Exit.
SCENE changes to the Princeſs's Apartment.
Enter Leonora and Cardono, diſcourſing.
Leon.
If Antimora's Paſſion fails to move,
And bring Learchus over to our Intereſt,
Thou may'ſt have Hope, Cardono, to ſucceed;
For ſhe has vow'd to ſee his Face no more,
If he denies to ſet Lorenzo free.
Card.
My Friend and you command what e'er I can,
But I deſpair of Antimora's Love;
Nor will I poorly aſk it on ſuch Terms;
To free Lorenzo, none would hazard more;
If in the Field I ſaw his Life beſet,
My own, for his, ſhould offer at the Ranſom;
But to attempt his Reſcue here, is fruitleſs,
When under Sentence by the King's Command,
[39] And guarded by his moſt inveterate Foe;
'Twou'd plunge us all in certain Death at once,
And not relieve, but bring his End on faſter.
Leon.
Then will you tamely ſtand, and ſee him die!
His Death conſpir'd to feed a Traytor's Pride;
And will you nothing dare, to ſave your Friend?
Can you forget who led you forth to conquer,
And ſtood the Danger equal with the Meaneſt?
Has he not gain'd immortal Honours for you?
And made the Name, the very Name of Lombard,
More formidable than once the Romans were,
And can you now refuſe to lend him Succour?
Card.
Oh, Royal Madam! think with what Concern
I hear your Words, and know my Friend's Diſtreſs!
Think you I need theſe Arguments to rouſe me!
No, I only want the Means to ſet him free,
And not the Will to do it.
Enter Antimora.
Leon.
See where the mourning Antimora comes,
Like Lillies weeping with the Morning Dew,
Which, tho' it wets, yet ſullies not their Beauty:
I fear, alas! to aſk thee what Succeſs.
Anti.
For me, moſt gracious Princeſs, nought remains,
Not the leaſt Gleam of Comfort now appears:
My Hopes are dead, as ſoon will be my Brother:
Where ſhall I hide me from the fatal News,
Or how ſupport me under it?
Leon.
That both thou and I muſt leave to Providence:
But, ſay, ſuppoſe that I ſhould find a Way,
With Lord Cardono's Help, to free Lorenzo,
What wouldeſt thou contribute to his Liberty.
Anti.
Oh! moſt ador'd of Princes, let me kneel,
[kneels.
And bleſs you for this Suppoſition only.
If ought in me could aid the glorious Work,
Tho' 'twere to lance theſe Veins, and let out Life,
If I deny'd, may Heav'n deny my Prayers,
When in my laſt Extremity I make 'em.
[riſes.
But oh! I know what 'tis that you would aſk,
And therefore make the Offer of my ſelf.
Hear me, ye Powers, and curſe me if I fail,
[40] Whoever gives my deareſt Brother Freedom,
The holy Prieſt ſhall give him Antimora;
Yes, I am his, and I will love him too,
At leaſt, I'm ſure I ſhall not love another.
Card.
Let Death attend in all thoſe hideous Forms
That Tyrants ſtudy to afflict Mankind with,
I'd ruſh thro' all for ſuch a glorious Prize;
Love and Friendſhip now ſurmount all Danger,
My Princeſs, Miſtreſs, and my Friend, are Names
That give to Reſolution double Strength;
Propoſe the Manner, and conclude it done.
Leon.
Behold the Signet of the King, Cardono;
Tho' how procur'd, imports not you to know;
This gives you Admittance to Lorenzo;
Six truſty Slaves whom I have bought to ſerve me,
All reſolutely bold, and bent for Action,
Wait without, and ready for the Enterprize:
The Officer who guards the Fort this Day,
I alſo have brought over to our Intereſt;
His Soldiers are by this prepar'd with Wine,
To let you paſs unheeded thro' the Fort;
If any others ſhould reſiſt, theſe Men,
At your Command, will ſoon diſpoſe of them.
Anti.
So may you proſper, as your Cauſe is juſt,
And be rewarded as your Soul deſires.
Card.
Such a Reward would make a Coward brave;
But if Succeſs ſhould crown our riſing Hopes,
Where can Lorenzo ſafely lye conceal'd
From the quick-ſighted Eye of Power and Malice?
Leon.
Below the Poſtern Gate you'll find a Boat,
That ready waits to paſs him o'er the Adige,
Where I have order'd Horſes to attend him,
By which he may eſcape to Rome.
Card.
Enough.
Now, Madam, Death or Lorenzo's Liberty;
Remember, Antimora, what you ſwore.
[Ex. Cardono.
Anti.
I do, and will obſerve it faithfully.
Leon.
Look down, ye Angels, with propitious Smiles;
You, whoſe Buſineſs 'tis to guard the Innocent
Thro' all the Mazes of this treach'rous World,
And give a juſt Account of mortal Actions.
[41] Look down, I ſay, and bleſs us with Succeſs,
And ſeal the Vow that here I make before you;
That if it e'er ſhall be my Lot to reign,
And fill the Throne of my great Anceſtors,
Each Year I'll dedicate this Day to Heaven,
And all the Realm ſhall pay its Thanks with me.
Religion is the beſt Support of Power,
And honeſt Men are ſtill its beſt Defenders.
Anti.
Forgive me, Heaven, if, for my Brother's Sake,
I wiſh ſhe were already on the Throne.
How natural is it to prefer thoſe Things
That touch us nearly, Spite of Education?
For tho' I have been ever taught to love,
And pay a ſtrict Obedience to my Sovereign,
Yet now I feel that Nature's eldeſt Law
Pleads ſtrongly in me for my Brother's Life:
And oh! this Day, if young Cardono proſpers,
I give a fatal Proof of my Affection.
Now to the Poſtern, where I'll wait to ſee
What Deſtiny allots for him and me:
If Life, I care not how my Lot is caſt,
Since all my Joys are in my Brother plac'd;
But if a Blank, and Death theſe Hopes ſucceed,
At once I'm from my Vow, and all my Sorrows freed.
[Exit.
Leon.
Lorenzo is a Pattern for Poſterity;
It matters not from whence, or whom he ſprung,
Since he has all that forms the Godlike Hero.
The Man, tho' ne'er ſo meanly born in Blood,
That, next his Soul, prefers his Country's Good;
Who more than Intereſt, does his Honour prize,
And ſcorns by ſecret Treachery to riſe;
That can the baſe and gilded Bribe diſdain,
Prevent Reflections on his Prince's Fame,
And point out glorious Virtues for his Reign:
That Man ſhould be a Monarch's chiefeſt Care,
And none but ſuch ſhould Royal Favours wear.
[Exit.
The End of the Third ACT.
ACT IV.
[42]Enter King and Antenor.
King.
INSpite of all my Wrongs, my Anger cools;
Nor can I now reſolve to let him die;
His Father's Merit, melts me into Pity;
The Lord Alcanor was an honeſt Stateſman,
And you muſt own Lorenzo well has ſerv'd me;
Both theſe plead ſtrongly in a generous Mind.
Anti.
Curſe on his Services.
[aſide.
What ſays my Royal Maſter?
Does not our Laws pronounce it Treaſon, Sir,
For any Subject who ſhall dare to wed,
And mingle with your Blood, without your Leave?
King.
Thou ſhould'ſt not urge this hated Theme, Antenor;
Thou may'ſt remember 'twas thy own Ambition.
Ante.
I do, with Shame, remember it; yet ſure
The Diff'rence of the Guilt is vaſtly great.
I humbly aſk'd, and much repented for it;
He ſeiz'd the Prize, and never aſk'd at all;
And glories in the Theft; nay, braves you too;
Nor once petitions for his Life or Freedom.
King.
The Preſent will from me be greater then;
Miſtake me not, I ſhall not pardon him;
No, he ſhall live an Exile, far from hence,
And never ſee my Leonora more:
That, to a Lover's Puniſhment enough.
Ante.
Think but on the Conſequence of Baniſhment;
[43] When Nature's Law ſhall ſummon you away,
Who then ſhall wear your Crown, but Leonora?
Think you not then ſhe will recal her Huſband?
Yes, ſure, ſhe will, and make him Partner with her.
Oh, Royal Sir! conſult your Subjects Safety;
For ſure that Day muſt fatal be to Lombardy.
What ſtrong Alliance can be form'd by him,
That is not purchas'd with our Laws and Treaſure?
King.
Diſmiſs your Fears, for I'll diſſolve the Mar⯑riage,
And give her to a Prince that ſhall defend ye.
Enter Agoniſtus.
Agoniſtus!
why ſuch Confuſion in thy Looks?
Ago.
O pardon, mighty Sir, the News I bring;
Cardono, by your Signet, was admitted
To pay his Viſit to the Lord Lorenzo.
King.
Ha! ſay'ſt thou! by my Signet! But go on.
Ago.
Accompany'd by ſix-Men in Livery,
One of which being tall, and well proportion'd,
Lorenzo quickly chang'd his Habit with him.
King.
Ha! and did he eſcape?
Ante.
Anſwer the King that Queſtion inſtantly.
Oh! Vengeance! Vengeance! have I loſt thee?
[aſide.
Ago.
I know not, Sir, what happen'd ſince I came;
Cardono ſeeing him that kept the Door,
Too curiouſly obſerve Lorenzo, ſtabb'd him;
When ſoon his Shrieks alarm'd your Son, my Lord,
Who call'd the Guards, but not a Man would ſtir:
Some ſlept ſo ſoundly, that we could not 'wake 'em;
Whilſt others ſwore they'd ſet the General free.
'Twas thus! when brave Learchus bad me haſte
To tell your Majeſty, and beg Aſſiſtance.
Ante.
Oh monſt'rous! unheard of Treachery!
King.
Fly, take our Guards,
And cruſh this infant Treaſon in its Birth:
Ex. Ago.
What! durſt Cardono croſs our Royal Will,
And ſtir our Soldiers to rebel againſt us?
Ante.
Well had it been, yes, wond'rous well for Man,
If Nature ne'er had form'd his Female Mate;
Love Poiſons oftner than it gives us Joy.
King.
Curſe on the fond, deceitful, ſoftning Paſſion!
[44] How glorious had my Leonora ſtood,
But for bewitching and deſtructive Love,
Which chills, and quite enervates all it reaches!
Enter Captain.
How now! what News bringeſt thou?
Capt.
The droniſh Citizens pretend to arm,
And gathering Crowds, fill all the Streets with Noiſe,
And cry aloud, Death, or Lorenzo's Freedom.
King.
Let them go on! yes, let the Slaves aſpire
To ſeize my Crown, and make Lorenzo King:
But they ſhall find I was not born to fear;
No, cou'd the Villains animate like Heat,
And ev'ry Breath produce whole Legions arm'd,
My Soul would dart a Fire thro' my Eyes,
That ſhou'd to Aſhes turn the new-born Traytors.
I'll to the City ſtrait, and face theſe Rebels.
Ante.
Not for the Univerſe.
Can ſuch a Cauſe be worthy of your Arms?
No, when baſe Plebeans offer to rebel,
Whips and Chains ſhould bring them back to Duty;
Whilſt Majeſty, ſerenely unconcern'd,
Beholds the Traytor's Fate.
King.
Have I for this with Toil and Care ſecur'd
Freedom and ev'ry Thing that's dear unto them?
And do th' ingrateful Wretches thus repay me?
But I will teach them what they owe their King,
And ſweep the bold Conſpirators from Earth.
Ante.
Rebellions in their Infancy are quell'd,
And to Obedience ſoon reduc'd with Eaſe;
Lop but the Head, the reſt will ſoon diſperſe;
The giddy Pop'lace are in Ignorance led,
And all unſkill'd in what they undertake;
When once the faithful, loyal Sword is drawn,
They drive, like idle Duſt, before the Wind.
Now is your Time to fix your Sway unbounded;
The Godlike Rule, and Right of ev'ry King;
Let all thoſe pop'lar Heads, that cry for Liberty,
Whoſe Aim has been to curb the Power of Princes,
Be term'd Abettors of Lorenzo's Treaſon,
And rid you of a factious Crew at once.
King.
Thou prompt'ſt me well, thou Oracle of Rule;
[45] Mercy ill ſuits with ſuch a vip'rous Brood.
[Trumpets and a Shout without.
Enter Agoniſtus.
Welcome; this Shout betokens thou ha'ſt conquer'd.
Ago.
We have, great Sir;
Lorenzo is ſecure, his Friends all ſeiz'd;
His Siſter Antimora too we found
Near to the Poſtern, full of Expectation;
Her Words betray'd her of the Party.
King.
To Priſon with them all; thy Meſſage gives
Thy King new Life, my Agoniſtus.
Ante.
It is not ſafe for you to ſpare one Man;
Nay, ev'n the Traytor Siſter ought to die:
What, durſt a Woman 'midſt the Rout appear,
T' inflame the Mob, and countenance Rebellion?
Let her too ſhare her Brother's Fate, great Sir,
And cruſh at once the vile inſidious Race.
King.
Yes, my Inciter to Revenge, ſhe ſhall;
She ſhall be puniſh'd for the heinous Fault;
But we will think of her hereafter.
Ante.
Ha! hereafter.
No, I reſolve to make ſure Work on't now;
Now, whilſt Fortune ſets Revenge before me.
[aſide.
King.
Haſte thou, Antenor, and draw out our Soldiers;
March them with Speed to this rebellious City.
Proclaim all Traytors that you find in Arms;
And thoſe who ſhall refuſe to lay them down,
Diſcharge the Fury of our Cannon on 'em.
Ante.
Great Sir, I will; but firſt let me intreat
To have the Pris'oners inſtantly diſpatch'd:
'Tis Policy to let their Deaths be ſudden.
Lorenzo dead, Rebellion ſoon will die.
King.
It ſhall be done; thou counſell'ſt well, Antenor;
I've now no more Remorſe, Lorenzo dies;
Yes, I will cruſh this vile infectious Root,
And ſo prevent the Growth of future Branches.
Haſte, Agoniſtus; with this Signet haſte,
And tell Learchus 'tis our inſtant Pleaſure,
That all th' Abettors of Lorenzo's Treaſon,
Do ſuffer in the common Road of Juſtice.
[46] But let not him by Axe or Wheel expire;
My boundleſs Wrongs do boundleſs Rage inſpire:
But rip his Breaſt, and to our Daughter bear
His HEART, juſt panting with a Lover's Fear.
Tell her, from me the much-lov'd PRESENT came;
The Part in which ſhe treaſur'd all her Fame:
Bid her to that repeat her guilty Vows;
'Tis all the Comfort that her Crime allows.
[Exit.
Ante.
Bear to our Son theſe Orders, Agoniſtus;
Charge him to ſee them executed ſtrait.
Captain, a Word—
[Exit. Agoniſtus.
You are no Stranger to my Son's fond Paſſion
For this vile Trayt'reſs, Antimora;
And leſt for Love he ſhould betray his Duty,
And ſave his Minion from the deſtin'd Stroke,
Haſte thou, and ſay it was the King's Command
The Lady ſhou'd be Pris'ner kept with thee;
And, when ſhe's in thy Power, diſpatch her.
Capt.
It ſhall be done, my Lord.
[Exit.
Ante.
Oh the exulting Joy of great Revenge!
This Moment gives me more ſubſtantial Pleaſure,
Than all the Years I in a Court have paſs'd.
Now all my noble Anceſtors look down,
And aid with Smiles this mighty Undertaking.
'Tis worthy of that Enmity you bore,
That I at once involve the hateful Race,
And crown my Wiſhes in the Siſter's Fall.
How I applaud my ſelf for this brave Deed,
My Foes confounded, and Learchus freed,
From guilty Love, to Empire ſhall ſucceed.
[Exit.
SCENE changes to a Priſon.
Lorenzo bound, meeting Cardono wounded.
Lor.
Alas! Cardono wounded! Oh, my Friend!
Oh, wherefore would'ſt thou be ſo kindly cruel,
To interpoſe thy friendly Offices
[47] Between a Monarch's Power, and my ſad Fate?
Thy Raſhneſs has undone thee.
Card.
Call it not Raſhneſs—
Our Souls in Friendſhip's Bonds are link'd ſo ſtrongly,
Our Bodies needs muſt ſhare each other's Fate:
But oh! ſee who comes here; this killing Sight
Unmaus thy Friend, and ſinks him into Woman.
Enter Antimora.
Lor.
Ha! art thou come t' inſult our Miſery?
Haſt thou obtain'd from thy Learchus Leave
To glut thy Eyes with Vengeance on his Rival?
Anti.
Oh, my dear Brother! ceaſe to upbraid me;
I own the Juſtice of offended Heaven,
And hate my ſelf ſor diſobeying you.
Thus on my Knees I beg you to ſorget
[kneels.
The former Weakneſs of your mourning Siſter,
And with this fav'rite Youth, this bleeding Friend,
Employ your beſt perſwaſive Eloquence
To gain his Pardon; for th [...]ſe Wounds he wears,
(Oh fatal Accident!) were given by me.
To ſave your Life, I left no Means untry'd,
Which made me raſhly ſwear to wed the Man
That ſhou'd from Death preſerve and ſet you free:
Cardono's Love unthinkingly obey'd me.
Card.
Do not repent the firſt Command you gave me,
[raiſes her.
Such a Command that Love can witneſs for me,
I never once regretted; I obey'd:
To make thee mine, and free my Friend, I fought;
Two the moſt pow'rful Reaſons Man can give.
Oh! had the Enterprize but met Succeſs,
I ſhou'd have glory'd in this Action more,
Than when I drove my Foes in Fight before me;
The rich Reward for which I drew my Sword,
Will juſtify the Act to ev'ry Lover.
Yes, Antimora by thoſe Eyes, I ſwear,
Had Fortune made thee mine but one ſhort Night,
And Death with Torments waited in the Morning,
I'd live an Age in that ſmall Space of Time,
And meet my Fate with more than Manly Courage.
The Memory of thy Charms had ſo tranſported me,
[48] My Soul had ſoar'd in Extaſy of Bliſs,
To you, bright Heav'n, inſenſible of Pain.
Lor.
Oh, Antimora!
Thy fickle Sex is ever in Extreams;
How much thy Folly over-weigh'd Affection,
When laſt I preſs'd thee to accept this Youth!
Tho' thou didſt know him dear to me as Life;
Yet now, when Paſſion, and the Woman work'd,
Thou offer'd up thy ſelf, alas! my Siſter.
'Tho' I confeſs the Proof is wond'rous great,
Which here thou giv'ſt of thy Affection to me;
Yet muſt I tell thee 'twas miſguided Zeal,
That taught thee raſhly to enſnare my Friend.
Leon.
Oh, Lorenzo! ceaſe, I beg thee, ceaſe;
Upbraid no more the dear, the trembling Maid,
Whom I am bound to bleſs for what ſhe did;
Since, if it be thy Deſtiny to fall,
I wou'd not live behind thee.
Anti.
I cannot blame you for your chiding me;
And I ſhould merit more Reproaches ſtill,
Were not my Chains of equal Weight with yours;
And now perhaps the fatal Order's given
To cut us off together.
Lor.
Learchus ſurely will be kind to thee,
And ſave thee from the fatal Stroke.
Anti.
Oh! do not think I have a Soul ſo mean,
To live by him who gives my Brother Death.
'Tho I confeſs I love Learchus more
Than weary Pilgrims Reſt, or Martyrs Heaven;
Yet ſooner wou'd I breathe infectious Air,
Which bring Diſeaſes, loathſome to behold,
Than owe my Life to him when thou art gone.
Enter Captain.
Capt.
Madam, you might have ſpar'd thoſe Prote⯑ſtations,
Since 'tis the Will of Majeſty to croſs
All the fond Hopes Learchus ever had,
And leaves his Wiſhes widow'd in Deſpair;
For you muſt die.
Lor.
Oh! inexorable Heaven! curſed Antenor,
At once thy Malice reaches all that's dear,
[49] And doubles ev'ry Pang of Death upon me.
Capt.
Guards, take hence this Lady.
Card.
Villains forbear! where's Learchus? where's now
His boaſted Paſſion for this lovely Maid?
Can he be tame, and ſee his Miſtreſs die?
Art thou the Screech-Owl, that proclaims her Fate?
Had I a Sword, I'd ſend thy canker'd Soul,
The Harbinger of her's, in Death.
Capt.
Yours, my Lord, will do that Office better,
Since the ſame Sentence waits on you.
Anti.
Oh, forgive me! me, the unhappy Cauſe;
And, Captain, one Requeſt I have to you.
[runs to the Captain.
Haſte to Learchus; I conjure you fly,
And beg him ſtrait, by all our former Kindneſs,
To interpoſe between this Youth and Death,
And wreak his Father's Malice all on me.
Card.
I ſcorn to take a wretched Life from him;
One parting Kiſs, to wing my fleeting Soul,
And bear it upwards to the Bleſs'd above;
'Tis all the Recompence I'll aſk thee now.
[kiſſes her.
Anti.
Oh! 'tis a poor Reward for Loſs of Life;
My Heart will burſt with this Exceſs of Woe,
And ſpare the Trouble of an Executioner.
Lor.
O Heaven! haſt thou in all thy Store of Curſes,
Pains more acute for Man; than what I feel?
Yet I would ſuffer more, if more cou'd be,
So that my Siſter and my Friend might live.
Let me embrace my Part'ners in Misfortune,
And gather ye to me, as the feather'd Kind
Gather their young Ones at th' Approach of Danger:
Like them defend you too while I am able,
'Till preſs'd with Odds, and overpower'd with Strength,
To cruel Vultures fall a Prey together,
[all three embrace.
Capt.
I muſt obey my Orders; Guards, force her hence.
[they lay hold of her.
Anti.
May'nt we have Leave at leaſt to die together?
Oh! cruel Wretches, why d'ye pull me ſo?
[She holds Lorenzo and Cardono, and ſtruggles.
Take me not from the Sight of this bleſs'd Pair;
[50] Oh! let my Eyes purſue theſe faithful Objects,
'Till we ſet in Death together! But oh!
Their Strength prevails, and I muſt looſe you both.
So when riſing Floods—
Bear from ſome Rock, in Secret where they lay,
The Haleyon's Neſt and all her Brood away,
The careful Mother hovers as they glide,
Hangs on the Wing, and flutters with the Tide;
'Till at the laſt the Waves invading creep,
Fill her frail Houſe, and ſink it in the Deep,
With one ſhrill Note ſhe Shrieks her laſt Deſpair,
Starts from the Sight, and flits away in Air.
[Exit torn of.
Card.
Oh, my ſick Soul!
Enter on the other Side, Learchus, Agoniſtus, and Guards.
Lor.
Tortures worſe than Death—
I ne'er expected ought to thank thee for;
[ſeeing Learchus.
But find, Learchus, I am now miſtaken.
I own the Favour of the higheſt Kind,
That thou to Death reſigns my Siſter up,
Whoſe cold Embrace more glorious is than thine.
Lear.
Ha.!
[Whiſpers to Agoniſtus, who Exit.
Guards, execute your Orders; but a while
Leave this my mortal Enemy with me.
Card.
Farewell, my Friend, an active Life is done,
[they ſeize Cardono.
And I remove to Indolence and Eaſe,
Where, if no Thought of thee and Antimora
Have Power to invade beyond this Life,
I ſhall be much more happy in the Grave.
Lor.
If in the other World Souls have a Knowledge,
Soon we ſhall meet, and there enjoy each other.
My Heart, like thine's, with double Sorrows torn;
Each Part's ſo great, it ſtrikes the other dumb.
Card.
Now lead me to that dreaded Nothing, Death;
From whence the King, that cuts me off in Youth,
Cannot by Crowns and Empires free himſelf.
What, tho' he meaſures yet ſome rowling Years,
And dies on downy Beds ſet round with Slaves,
[51] Within the Grave the Worms know no Diſtinction.
But hear me, Heav'n, let no Diſtreſs befal him;
May he ne'er want thy faithful Arm, Lorenzo,
Leſt, when he thinks upon thy many Conqueſts,
He ſhould too late repent thy haſty End:
Once more farewell.
[Exit guarded;
Lor.
A thouſand Angels catch thy parting Soul,
And bear it up to their bleſs'd Seats above.
My Spirits faint beneath this Load of Miſery,
And long to lay the heavy Burden down.
Why doſt thou keep me here, inſulting Man?
Lear.
To ſatisfy my ſelf, if Fame be true,
That thou art Maſter of ſuperior Virtues.
Me thou haſt held at hateſul Diſtance ſtill,
And robb'd my Soul of what it moſt deſir'd,
Its fondeſt Wiſh, my Antimora's Love.
Then tell me now, by Honour I conjure thee,
In what Cardono merited above me?
Lor.
Do not profane his Name; I charge thee, do not;
Is there Compariſon 'twixt him and thee?
Antenor was not Father to Cardono.
Lear.
Unmanly doſt thou urge my Father's Faulte,
And moſt unjuſtly charge his Crimes on me.
I oft have wiſh'd our Houſes Hate compos'd,
And us'd Endeavours to have heal'd the Breach;
But thou didſt ſtill deny the Means to do it.
Lor.
This is no Time to talk of paſt Deſigns;
Nor will I hold Diſcourſe of ought with thee.
My Thoughts are fix'd on nobler Subjects far;
My beauteous Wiſe, my Leonora now,
And vaſt Eternity fill all my Mind.
Lear.
Thy Wife! haſt thou then wedded Leonora?
Lor.
I have; there I will anſwer thee with Pleaſure;
Of what I have poſſeſs'd, you can't deprive me.
Lear.
Oh! why am I to bear this hateful Meſſage?
Lor.
What Meſſage is my Wife to hear from thee,
To make thee Sigh? it muſt be dreadful ſure.
Lear.
Dreadful it is, and ſtaggers Nature in me;
Tho' thou doſt think me ſavage and remorſeleſs,
Yet I do tremble at the horrid Charge:
Read there the Manuer of thy Death, and where
[52] Thy faithful Heart muſt be diſpos'd off.
[gives him a Paper.
Lor.
Oh, rich Repoſitory for the Heart!
That knows no Bliſs beyond her virtuous Boſom.
By all the Charms of Leonora's Perſon;
By all thoſe Joys I've taſted in her Arms,
There's Height of Pleaſure in the harſh Decree;
Nor does my Nature feel one Pang for this:
But how ſhe'll bear it, Heav'n can only know.
My Soul for her is touch'd with mighty Anguiſh;
And thus forgetting all my Hate and Wrongs,
I bend my Knee in Supplication down.
Since thou'rt to be the Harbinger of Fate,
Touch her, oh! gently touch her with my Fate,
And ſay Death ſtole upon me unawares,
And laid me down without a dying Groan,
Whilſt my laſt Words were, Love and Leonora.
Lear.
Riſe, my Lord.
Tho' you regard me as your mortal Foe,
Yet will I diſcharge this Truſt moſt faithfully,
Or any other you'll repoſe in me;
And pray believe, that if my Power cou'd ſave you,
You ſhould not aſk in vain.
Lor.
I thank you, Sir; but Life I would not aſk of thee;
But when thou doſt preſent her with my Heart,
Tell her it was her Huſband's laſt Requeſt
She wou'd not grieve, nor vent one Groan for me,
Leaſt the dear Accent of her Voice o'ertake
My Soul, and draw it downward from Angelick Reſt.
Yet one Thing more, if thou'lt vouchſafe to do it.
Cloſe by the Grove that joins the Royal Bower,
Within a lonely Cell an Hermit lives,
Whoſe holy Function ſanctify'd our Loves.
I Yeſterday receiv'd this Packet from him,
With ſtrict Injunction to deliver it
When next I was in Private with the King.
What it imports, I know not; but the Man
Is greatly good, and was my Father's Friend;
To whom his lateſt Words commended me,
And bad me pay the ſelf ſame Duty there,
That from my Infancy I'd paid to him.
[53] Return theſe Papers back, I humbly pray thee,
And ſay, I beg, that, for my Soul's Repoſe,
He wou'd ſend up his pious Pray'rs to Heaven,
If Nature ſo permit Antenor's Son.
Lear.
Still, wo't thou ſtill repeat Antenor's Son?
Were I that Monſter which thy Hate has ſorm'd,
I ſhou'd rejoyce to ſee thee fall with Shame;
But all the Powers above can witneſs for me,
With deep Concern I execute this Order.
Lor.
Pardon me;
His Name is always upwards in my Thoughts,
And thence 'tis utter'd by my Tongue unheedingly;
But I forgive, and wiſh I could forget him:
Forget by whom my Glories all are ſully'd;
My Death conſpir'd, and all my Pleaſures ended.
Fain I in Peace wou'd Life's Remains employ,
And as I bravely liv'd, wou'd bravely die.
Beyond the Grave no Enemy can come,
And I ſhall reſt at Quiet in my Tomb.
Death is a Debt we all to Nature owe,
No Matter then how ſoon or late we go:
But dying well, is what we ſhould propoſe,
And leave to Heaven the Vengeance on our Foes.
[Exeunt.
The End of the Fourth ACT.
ACT V.
[54]The SCENE draws, and diſcovers Leonora ſitting on a Couch, her Women weeping round: her.
LEONORA.
WHY do you weep? why do thoſe Fountains flow?
Whilſt I, for whom this mighty Grief is ſhown,
Have not one Tear to mingle with your Sorrows.
Leave this unprevailing Source of Woe, begone;
Eternally your Miſtreſs bids adieu;
And thou, Verona, Miſtreſs of this Kingdom,
Whoſe crouded Streets with Acclamations rung,
When e'er I deign'd to grace 'em with my Preſence,
Prepare thy ſable Weeds to mourn me now;
For the next Sight which draws thy People forth,
Will be the Obſequies of Leonora.
Lady.
Oh! who unmov'd can ſee your great Diſtreſs,
And yet refrain from weeping?
Leon.
Cou'd you, like Niobe, expreſs Concern,
And into weeping Marble be transform'd,
You cou'd not add one Grain of Eaſe to me.
Go then, and let my Fame be all your Care,
That when this wretched Body is no more,
No Calumny may reſt upon my Name.
My Lord Lorenzo, my renowned Huſband;
Yes, I'll proclaim in Publick to the World,
That he's my Dear, my faithful wedded Huſband;
For his great Soul's adorn'd with Kingly Virtues.
Away, deluded Thoughts of what has been;
[55] For oh! alas! I fear he is no more.
Both Courage, Prudence, Fortitude, and Love,
Center'd in him, and Honour kept the Guard;
And this—deliver to Poſterity,
I glory more i'th' Title of his Wife,
Than that of Princeſs, Daughter to a King;
Nay, more than of that Crown my Father wears.
Enter Page.
Page.
Madam, the Lord Learchus craves Admittance;
He ſays he brings a Meſſage from the King.
Leon.
Admit him then, what e'er his Buſineſs be;
The jarring Paſſions of my Soul are huſh'd,
And ev'ry warring Faculty is calm;
The King and Fate can ſhock my Peace no more.
Enter Learchus in Mourning, and one following him with a Cup.
Lear.
Before my Tongue diſcloſe the fatal Meſſage,
That will, I fear, unhinge your Reaſon quite,
Oh! let me kneel, and in this humble Poſture,
Obtain your Royal Pardon, for obeying
The fatal Orders of the King your Father.
Leon.
Riſe, my Lord, and ſpeak your Meſſage.
Lear.
Oh that it were not to be ſpoke by me.
Lorenzo is—
Leon.
Dead! There I help'd you forward—Why, 'tis well;
You ſee I faint not; then proceed, I pray,
Tell me, come tell me how my Huſband fell;
For all my Senſes are to Hearing turn'd,
And I can liſten to the fatal Tale:
But thou'rt his Foe, and will not do him Juſtice,
Nor ſpeak the mournful Meſſage of his Love.
Thou com'ſt to triumph o'er my endleſs Grief,
And ſatiate thy inveterate Hate on me.
Lear.
This Taſk, this hateful Taſk, was not my Choice,
But forc'd upon me by the King my Maſter:
Yet when I wrong Lorenzo's Memory,
May Truth forſake my Soul, and Speech my Tongue;
The vital Blood that circles in my Veins,
Congeal to Ice, and ſtop the Springs of Life.
Your Huſband fell moſt reſolute and brave,
[56] And your Idea open'd Heav'n before him.
Tell her, ſaid he, I charge her not to grieve,
Since he who falls a Martyr for his Love,
Still ſinks with Honour equal to the Field;
And Death for her brings greater Pleaſure far,
Than a whole Age of Life without her Love.
Leon.
Oh, matchleſs Conſtancy!
You ſee I do obſerve his laſt Requeſt.
Tears are the Tribute which a Girl can pay;
Too poor a Taſk for Leonora's Eyes.
When ſhe wou'd mourn a faithful Huſband's Loſs,
Inward, ye Fountains, turn your liquid Springs,
And round my Heart collect your baleful Streams,
Whilſt Sighs ſuppreſt, augment the ſwelling Tide,
And raiſe it up to ſuch Extremity,
'Till one dire Groan the fatal Tempeſt break,
And Life and Grief at once ruſh out together;
Then I ſhall find my deareſt Lord again.
Lear.
My Heart, I fear, will fail me in my Purpoſe;
Oh moſt lamented Princeſs!
[aſide.
Leon.
Ha! what, another Exclamation?
Then there is ſomething ſure remains behind;
Some dreadful, monſt'rous, matchleſs Scene of Woe,
Whoſe horrid Birth, even thou, Antenor's Son,
Seems fearful and unwilling to diſcloſe.
Lear.
There is indeed; oh! how ſhall I relate it?
Or where find Words of ſoft and gentle Sound,
To cloath the fatal Buſineſs of my Errand?
Leon.
Ha! ſupport me, gracious Heaven.
Lear.
Within this Cup; oh! can I live to ſpeak it!
The King preſents you with your Huſband's Heart?
Leon.
Ah!
(ſhrieks)
Tyrant, Murderer, moſt inhu⯑man Father;Patience! oh Patience! whither art thou fled?
Fury, Diſtraction, aid my lab'ring Brain;
Start ev'ry Nerve, and burſt, ye throbbing Veins,
Diffuſe your Blood, to quench his eager Thirſt;
Oh barb'rous Rage! oh matchleſs Cruelty!
Hear me, juſt Heav'n, and hurl thy Vengeance down
Quick, blaſt the Authors of this curſed Deed.
Let Earth be barren, and the Sea be dry,
[57] Each Tree conſum'd, and ev'ry Herb deſtroy'd;
Let univerſal Chaos reign again,
And hide this Object in its ſable Womb.
But why waſte I my Time in fruitleſs Wiſhes?
My Huſband chides me for this long Delay;
I come, my Love.
[Snatches at Learchus's Sword.
Lear.
Forbid it, Heav'n, that you ſhou'd touch your Life.
Leon.
'Tis Hell forbids it; thou, the ruling Fiend;
Thou haſt prevented me! Oh gracious Act!
From thee! from thee, who gave Lorenzo Death:
But Grief, like mine, will find a thouſand Doors to let in Death.
Theſe Hands ſhall cruſh the Organs of my Life,
And ſtop at once this Breath replete with Miſery.
Lear.
Fly, and acquaint the King with her Reſolves;
And beg his Preſence, to allay the Storm.
[Ex. Attendant,
Leon.
Oh, my Lorenzo!
For thy Death, curſs'd be this fruitful Lombardy,
May Rapine wake her Genius from Repoſe,
And in her Cities place the Seat of Famine;
May Tempeſts lay her ſtately Fabricks waſte,
And make her Deſolation great as mine.
Lear.
Royal Madam.
Leon.
Interrupt me not with that deteſted Voice;
Give me the precious Relict of my Love;
The nobleſt Heart that ever Man poſſeſs'd;
Nor will I part with it, 'till Life forſake me;
Nor when I die, for here I'll have it plac'd,
[points to her Breaſt.
A ſacred Pledge, and Witneſs of my Truth;
The ſureſt Token for my Lord to know me,
When in the other World we meet again.
[Exit.
Lear.
Upon your Lives guard her with ſtricteſt Care,
And let no Means of Death be near her.
Enter Agoniſtus.
Ago.
My Lord the King is coming hither.
Lear.
'Tis well; and are my other Orders allobey'd?
Ago.
Exactly; but ſee, the King appears.
Enter King and Guards.
King.
Haſt thou in ev'ry Part perform'd our Will?
Lear.
I have, great Sir.
King.
[58]'Tis well; I've ſent Antenor to the City,
To quell the Riots there; and that once paſt,
I ſhall again poſſeſs my Crown in Peace.
Thoſe Drones, pretending to have Stings, appear,
And in full Body would arraign my Juſtice.
In vain the Foxes wear the Lyon's Skin,
Without the Lyon's Strength—But ſay,
How does our Daughter bear her Minion's Death?
Lear.
The Royal Dame, like Roman Matrons, bore,
Unmov'd and calm, the mournful Tale of Death.
King.
Then is half my Vengeance loſt.
Lear.
But when I nam'd your Preſent of his Heart,
Both Majeſty and Reaſon quite forſook her,
And wild Deſtraction ſhook her beauteons Fabrick.
She rav'd, and curſs'd her ſelf, and all the World;
Then took the Relick of her much-lov'd Lord,
And vow'd to part no more.
King.
Thou doſtrevive me with this Story.
Lear.
Oh, Royal Sir,
My Heart is ſwoln with exceſſive Sadneſs.
Oh! could my Eyes, inſtead of Tears, ſhed Blood,
They could not, ſure, expreſs the dreadful Scene,
Which by your fatal Order was diſplay'd.
King.
Art thou ſo tender in thy Nature!
Lear.
Oh! think upon the mourning Princeſs, Sir,
That peerleſs Monument of loyal Truth,
Whoſe Soul diſdains to be out-done in Love,
But vows to die for him, as he for her;
Then aſk your Hears, if all's at Peace within?
King.
And art thou grown her Advocate, Learchus?
Antenor will not thank thee for the Office.
Lear.
My Father, even in his Height of Hatred,
Would weep to hear the Sorrows which I ſaw.
Oh, Royal Sir! what muſt your Subjects do,
When that ſad Day to Lombardy arrives,
Wherein your Majeſty muſt yield to Fate?
Who will be worthy found to fill your Throne,
When beauteous Leonora is no more?
The Child unborn will curſe that haſty Doom,
By which you have deſtroy'd the nobleſt Pair
That ever Hymen join'd in Nuptial Bands.
King.
[59]Name it no more, I do not care to think on't;
I wiſh thy Father had but half thy Virtues.
Lear.
Lorenzo gave a Packet to my Hands,
Which he receiv'd, he ſaid, from an old Hermit,
With full Inſtructions for your Majeſty.
King.
Where is the Packet?
Lear.
He did intreat I would return it to him;
And I perform'd his laſt Requeſt with Care.
But the ſame Hermit waits without, to tell ye,
With heavy Heart, the great important Story.
King.
Admit him ſtrait.
Enter Hermit.
What would you, venerable Sir, with me?
Her.
Theſe twenty Winters I have paſs'd in Prayer,
From Noiſe of Courts, and Buſtle of the Great,
Bound by a Vow to expiate my Sins,
And ſave a Child which thou haſt taken from me.
Lorenzo, whom the Lord Alcanor bred,
And ſtill, for weighty Reaſons, call'd his own,
Was only Son to me; his Hand I join'd
Where Love, long ſince, had join'd his tender Heart;
Even to thy Daughter, the Princeſs Leonora.
King.
Ha! and dar'ſt thou juſtify this Treaſon?
Is the baſe Offspring of a dreaming Prieſt
Worthy to rule, and mingle with my Blood?
I know you well; all your Humility
Conſiſts in outward Form, a mere Diſguiſe
To cover Pride and bold Ambition with!
Which ſtill aſpires to teach and govern Kings.
But know, that Garb of Sanctity, grave Sir,
Shan't awe my Hand from puniſhing a Traytor.
Guards, ſeize him.
Her.
Hold! know'ſt thou this Face, my Kinſman, tell me?
Or has thy Memory loſt the Duke of Milan?
King.
Ha! the Duke of Milan! Oh! my Uncle!
Why would you, Sir, conceal your ſelf thus long,
And draw this Load of Guiltineſs upon me?
Her.
When he—
Who now uſurps my Dukedom, drove me out,
From Court to Court, I ſought in vain Relief.
[60] Your ſelf in War, unable to aſſiſt me,
The Tyrant grew in great Alliance ſtrong,
And ev'ry Prince refus'd to ſhelter me;
One [...]'ning, as I walk'd alone in Venice,
And melancholly muſing what to do,
Having receiv'd my Orders to depart,
I met a Hermit, who call'd me by my Name,
And told me all the Failings of my Life;
Then bad me enter holy Orders ſtrait,
And expiate my Sins in fervent Prayer.
Full twenty Years, if this I well perform'd,
My Son, he ſaid, ſhould wear a Regal Crown,
And I ſhould be again reſtor'd to Milan.
But if before that Term of Years expir'd,
I lagg'd, or once repin'd at what I bore,
My Son and I ſhould periſh—Oh fatal Thought!
For now I have found th' ambiguous Prophecy;
The Crown he meant, was Martyrdom for Love.
King.
Oh moſt unhappy Prince!
Her.
This, when I told that honeſt Lord Alcanor,
He offer'd to receive my Son for his,
Who then was three Years old, and breed him for me;
Then bound himſelf by Oath to keep the Secret.
I ſtrait took Orders, and finding him recall'd,
I ſoon reſolv'd to fix my Dwelling here,
And in a lonely Cell, hard by the Bower,
I liv'd unknown to all but Lord Alcanor.
My Friend, upon his Death-bed, charg'd Lorenzo
To pay the Duty of a Son to me;
But told him not how much he ow'd it to me.
The twenty Years being now expir'd quite,
I purpos'd to diſcover to your Majeſty
The great important Story of my Life;
And, for which Purpoſe, to my Son I gave
The Packet which this Lord return'd me back.
But Oh! my Soul, when moſt I hop'd for Comfort,
I am become moſt miſerable!
King.
Ceaſe, ceaſe to raiſe the Horror of my Guilt,
Except you wiſh to drive me to Deſpair;
Apply the Cordial of remaining Hope,
That you and Leonora will forgive me.
Lear.
[61]Help, help the Princeſs; ſee, ſhe comes,
Mad with her Woes, and graſping ſtill the Heart.
King.
Open, Earth, and hide me from this Object.
Enter Leonora, held by her Women.
Leon.
Off! off, Tormentors; off, and give me Way;
Am I a Princeſs, and dare you detain me?
Ha! the King! Oh! let me kneel before you,
For all the Storms of Life will ſoon be over.
Permit me to believe, that once I was
The only darling Pleaſure of your Soul;
Commanded Slaves, who at my Nod ſtill fled,
And were the very Creatures of my Will:
Inform me then how I have loſt this Power,
That thoſe who ſhould obey, dare to controul me.
All that I aſk, is to be rid of them;
I want no Daggers, Aſps, nor Poiſons now;
All ſeveral Bleſſings for a ſpeedy Death;
But only Leave to lay a Father's Preſent
Next my poor Heart, and ſleep my Cares away.
King.
Look up, my Child; behold thy Father mourns
Thy too unhappy worthy Huſband's Fall.
Oh! let my Penitence atone my Crime;
See, Leonora, Nature is revers'd;
A weeping Father kneeling to his Child.
Oh! promiſe me, that thou wilt live my Daughter,
And we will all revere thy Huſband's Mem'ry:
For him a Monument ſhall ſtrait be rais'd;
The Parian Marble, and Corinthian Braſs,
And Gold from India, ſhall the Pile adorn;
And yearly all his Soldiers gather round,
To hear Orations in his Praiſe for ever,
Whilſt I reſign my Crown and Rule to thee.
Leon.
Oh, poor Temptation to a wretched Life!
What is a Crown, compar'd with what I feel?
Can Crowns allay Extremity of Woe?
Oh, no! your Offers want that healing Power;
And if your Sorrow's real, or only feign'd,
It matters not, ſince my Lorenzo's gone.
Since you have murder'd him by whom I liv'd,
[62] Here, by this precious Relick of my Love,
Which you have in the pureſt Metal plac'd,
I ſwear, and witneſs, all ye ſacred Powers,
That guide our Lives, and pre-ordain our Fates,
Hear, and confirm my ſtedfaſt Vow.
[kneels.
King.
O hold, my Child!
Leon.
No Sleep ſhall ever cloſe theſe Eyes again,
Nor Food ſuſtain this hated Life I wear,
Nor ought profane the Kiſs upon my Lips,
Which from my Huſband I receiv'd at Parting,
'Till from theſe Multitude of Woes reliev'd,
I re-enjoy my Love.
[riſes.
Lear.
Oh, Madam!
Why will you puniſh all the World for one;
For one raſh Act committed by a Father?
King.
Oh! that my Crown could raiſe him from the Grave!
With eager Tranſport I would lay it down.
With more Content, with more ſubſtantial Joy,
Could I behold you in each other's Arms,
Than e'er the Scepter gave me.
Her.
I wiſh thy Soul had been thus touch'd before;
Then my Lorenzo, then my Son had liv'd.
Leon.
Theſe are your Wiſhes, when Relief is paſt;
Why will you cruelly interrupt the Dying?
King.
Why wilt thou wound me with thy Unbelief,
And rack me worſe than e'er thy Huſband was?
What Proof of my Repentance ſhall I give thee?
By all the Fruits of Earth and Lights of Heaven;
By that ſuperior Light, the glorious Sun,
From which for ever let my Eyes be ſhut,
If they could e'er behold a Sight more pleaſing.
Lear.
Now is my Time.
[Exit.
Leon.
In vain, in vain you uſe theſe Imprecations,
Since in my Breaſt they cannot make Impreſſion;
For he, alas! is gone for ever from me.
King.
Oh, my Child! why doſt thou turn thy Eyes away?
And is thy Father then ſo hateful grown,
Thou canſt not bear to look upon him?
[63]Enter Learchus and Lorenzo at the upper End of the Stage
Leon.
Ha! ſee, ſee, ye Murderers, who comes here!
It is the lifeleſs Shadow of my Huſband;
He's ſent by Heaven to warn your guilty Souls,
Of endleſs Torture, for your barbarous Crimes.
See here my Love! I graſp the Subſtance ſtill;
A tender Father's Preſent to thy Wife;
The beſt and richeſt Gift, when thou wert gone;
Oh! it has told me all! and bid me haſte
To fly Oppreſſion, and enjoy thy Preſence.
And now I feel the happy Moment on me;
Life gives Way, and I am coming to thee.
[faints.
King.
Support our Daughter.
Lor.
Hold off; let me embrace the beauteous Mourner;
Oh! ſpeak to me, my Dear; my Leonora ſpeak:
Thy Soul is ſummon'd by thy Huſband back.
Oh! leave me not to periſh in Deſpair.
King.
Ha! what do I ſee! Lorenzo living!
Her.
My Son alive! I thank thee gracious Heaven,
And all that has been inſtrumental to it.
Lor.
Oh, Leonora! Oh, my beauteous Wife!
Daſh not my riſing Joy at once, my Love;
Look up, my Fair, 'tis thy Lorenzo calls.
Leon.
Ha! 'tis he, the very He! Oh Tranſport!
'Tis my real, my dear, my faithful Huſband.
Say how, oh! how haſt thou retriev'd thy Heart!
Or art thou by ſome Miracle ſupported?
Thus will I hold thee faſt within my Arms,
From whence no Mortal Strength ſhall wreſt thee forth,
Without the Life of Leonora with thee.
Lor.
Oh, thou Excellence! thou wond'rous Woman!
How ſhall I requite thee?
King.
Proclaim it to the World, Lorenzo lives;
No more the Son of old Alcanor now,
But Heir apparent to the Crown of Milan.
Lor.
What do I hear?
King.
Yes, thou'rt of noble Blood; ſee there thy Father. Kneel to him.
Lor.
Am I then, Sir, your Son? Oh, pardon me,
If I enquire why you have thus conceal'd me
[64] So long unknowing of my Duty?
Her.
Riſe, my Son; another Time I'll tell thee all;
May Heav'n ſhower its Bleſſings on you both.
Leon.
Oh Extaſy! thy Father living ſtill,
Mine reconcil'd, and thy dear Life reſtor'd!
The Joy's too great for Mortal Senſe to bear;
'Tis ſure the Epitome of that above,
Which Angels, in their ſep'rate State, enjoy.
There wants but Antimora and thy Friend,
To make thee happy too.
King.
If thou haſt been ſo very good, Learchus,
To preſerve them too, thy King will thank thee.
Embrace this Man, Lorenzo, for he ſav'd thee;
And here the Hatred of your Houſes ends.
Lor.
I'm all Confuſion! Was I ſav'd by thee?
Oh ſpare my Words, and read 'em in my Eyes!
Lear.
I aſk no Thanks; the King has over-paid me;
Since he forgives this only Breach of Duty.
Come forth, my Antimora, now no more
Bound by the Duty of a Siſter's Love;
[Enter Antimora.
And oh! I wiſh I cou'd produce Cardono!
I did my beſt to ſave him, tho' my Rival;
But notwithſtanding all the Care I us'd,
He expir'd of his Wounds.
Lor.
Alas! my Friend.
Anti.
Your Pardon, Royal Sir.
[kneels.
King.
Riſe, fair Antimora; I forgive thee.
Anti.
Oh my raviſh'd Senſes! tho' I no more
Muſt call you Brother, yet methinks I feel
The ſame tranſporting Joy for your Deliverance,
As if you truly were my Brother.
Lor.
Thou ſtill ſhalt be my Siſter, lovely Maid;
And the ſame fond tender Care I'll pay thee;
And wiſh I really were thy Brother now,
To ſhew how much I prize this worthy Man;
Yet take her from my Hand, Learchus, and,
With her, take the Heart which thou didſt kindly ſave.
Lear.
The two great Bleſſings Heav'n or Earth can give me.
[they embrace.
King.
Now thou haſt made me more than King, Le⯑archus;
[65] And my Rewards ſhall ſound thy Praiſes forth,
And to the World proclaim thy matchleſs Virtue.
Lear.
If my Delay of Duty had diſpleas'd,
I would have offer'd up my ſelf, great Sir,
And dy'd, to expiate my honeſt Fault.
Your Pardon, Royal Madam's what I want,
For all the Grief which I have caus'd in you.
I had no gentler Means to ſave Lorenzo,
But by appearing to obey the King.
I us'd the Heart of him Cardono ſtabb'd,
To work my End, and raiſe a Father's Pity,
Hoping your real Diſtreſs might move the King,
And wake Repentance in his Royal Soul.
My Plot ſucceeded, and I'm happy in it.
Leon.
Let tender Maids, that feel the Force of Love,
For ever bleſs, and ever praiſe thy Name.
May'ſt thou n'er aſk of Heaven or Man a Boon,
But may it be with double Portion granted.
Come to my Breaſt, thou Partner in my Grief,
And witneſs, ſacred Truth, how dear I hold thee.
Enter Captain.
Capt.
The Citizens hearing Lorenzo lives,
Laid down their Arms, and bleſs'd your Majeſty;
But Lord Antenor was in the Buſtle ſlain.
Lear.
Alas! my Father!
King.
Let this fair Virgin recompence thy Loſs,
While all thy Father's Honours live again;
And with a better Grace adorn thy Brow.
But oh! be warn'd by his unhappy Fate,
What Dangers on the doubling Stateſman wait!
Had he preferr'd his King's and Country's Good,
This publick Vengeance had not ſought his Blood;
But while the ſecret Paths of Guilt he treads,
Where Luſt of Power, Revenge, or Envy leads,
While to Ambition's lawleſs Height he flies,
Hated he lives, and unlamented dies.
The End of the Fifth ACT.
Appendix A EPILOGUE.
Spoken by Mrs. OLDFIELD.
[]WELL,—'twas a narrow 'Scape my Lover made;
That Cup and Meſſage—I was ſore afraid—
Was that a Preſent for a new made Widow,
All in her diſmal Dumps, like doleful DIDO!
When one peep'd in—and hop'd for ſomething good,
There was—oh! Gad! a naſty Heart and Blood.
If the old Man had ſhew'd himſelf a Father,
His Bowl ſhou'd have inclos'd a Cordial rather,
Something to chear me up amidſt my Trance,
L' Eau de Barbadè—or comfortable Nants!
He thought he paid it off with being ſmart,
And to be witty, cry'd, he'd ſend the Heart.
I cou'd have told his Gravity, moreover,
Were I our Sex's Secrets to diſcover,
'Tis what we never look for in a Lover.
Let but the Bridegroom prudently provide
All other Matters fitting for a Bride,
[] So he make good the Jewels and the Jointure,
To miſs the Heart, does ſeldom diſappoint her.
Faith, for the Faſhion Hearts of late are made in,
They are the vileſt Bawbles we can trade in.
Where are the tough brave BRITONS to be found,
With Hearts of Oak, ſo much of Old renown'd?
How many worthy Gentlemen of late
Swore to be true to Mother-Church and State;
When their falſe Hearts were ſecretly maintaining
Yon trim King PEPIN, at Avignon reigning?
Shame on the canting Crew of Soul-Inſurers,
That Tyburn-Tribe of Speech-making Non-jurors;
Who in new-frangled Terms, old Truth's explaining,
Teach honeſt Engliſh-men, damn'd Double Meaning.
Oh! wou'd you loſt Integrity reſtore,
And boaſt that Faith your plain Fore-Fathers bore;
What ſurer Pattern can you hope to find,
Than that dear PLEDGE your MONARCH left behind!
See how his Looks his honeſt Heart explain,
And ſpeak the Bleſſings of his future Reign!
In his each Feature, Truth, and Candour trace,
And read Plain Dealing written in his Face,
FINIS.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 3958 The cruel gift a tragedy As it is acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane by His Majesty s servants By Mrs Cent Livre. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-6017-E