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RICHARD COEUR DE LION. A COMIC OPERA.

Price ONE SHILLING.

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RICHARD COEUR DE LION. A COMIC OPERA, AS PERFORMED AT The Theatre Royal Covent Garden. Taken from a French Comedy of the ſame Name, written by Monſieur Sedaine; BY LEONARD MACNALLY, ESQ.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR T. CADELL, IN THE STRAND.

M, DCC, LXXXVI.

Dramatis Perſonae.

[]
  • RICHARD I. Coeur de Lion, King of England, Mr. DAVIES.
  • BLONDEL, his confidential friend, Mr. JOHNSTONE.
  • FLORESTINE, Governor of a Caſtle, Mr. M'READY.
  • MORGAN, an old Welſh Soldier, Mr. QUICK.
  • LA BRUCE, Attendant on the Queen, Mr. EDWIN.
  • BERGHEN, a Clown, Mr. WEWITZER.
  • ANTONIO, Attendant on Blondel, Mrs. BROWN.
  • GUILLET, Servant to Floreſtine Mr. CUBITT.
  • PRINCIPAL KNIGHT, Mr. DARLEY.
  • BERENGERIA, Queen conſort to Richard, Mrs. BILLINGTON.
  • LAURETTA, Daughter to Morgan, Mrs. MARTYR.
  • BEATRICE, Attendant on the Queen, Miſs. BRANGIN.

KNIGHTS, SOLDIERS, PEASANTS, &c.

SCENE, a Caſtle and its Vicinity, ſituated in a Foreſt in Germany.

[]

TO THE Queen's moſt Excellent Majeſty, THIS OPERA IS HUMBLY DEDICATED, By HER MAJESTY's Moſt faithful and Moſt obedient Subject,

LEO. MACNALLY.

PREFACE.

[]

THIS Opera was written upon the ſpur of the occaſion; a circumſtance which may palliate, though not excuſe its faults. The ſubject of the fable remains as in the original; but a few alterations have been made in its conſtruction; and the writer has attempted to heighten the characters by a colouring of humour.

FEW pieces have experienced a more extraordinary perſecution. Previous to its appearance, the Manager and Writer were peſtered with anonymous letters, threatening its deſtruction, by the force of party, for their daring to attempt an emulous oppoſition to the Romance under the ſame title then preparing at Drury Lane: and, after it appeared, ſeveral of the prints teemed with ſevere animadverſions and abuſe.

[viii]ONE critic diſplayed his judgment with great ingenuity and candour: he opened his old ſchool ſatchell, and quoted both Greek and Latin, to point out paſſages analogous to claſſic ideas; every literal error of the preſs was produced and animadverted on with aſtoniſhing ability; he found proſaic lines in the poetry, and poetic thoughts in the proſe; but, above all, he made this great diſcovery, that the ſentiments of loyalty breathed through the dialogue, were inimical to the Britiſh conſtitution.

As men of ſenſibility feel when their generoſity is brought forward, this critic ſhall not be put to the bluſh, but be permitted to indulge in the ſecret ſatisfaction ariſing from his friendly exertions.

RICHARD COEUR DE LION. A COMIC OPERA. The Songs marked thus *⁎*, are Tranſlations from the French Opera of COEUR DE LION.

[]

ACT I.

SCENE, a ſtrong Caſtle and its Environs, ſituate in a Wood. On one Side a Public-houſe, with the ſign of the Harp; on the other a long ſtone Bench.—Several Peaſants, Men and Women, with Inſtruments of Huſbandry, are diſcovered drinking.
CHORUS, &c. Part of the French Overture.
MORGAN, BERGHEN, LAURETTA, PEASANTS, &c.
*⁎* LET's ſing, let's be gay,
Let's be merry whilſt we may,
Dance and laugh the time away;
Let's drink and play,
Till the ſun brings in the day.
[2]DANCE.
MORGAN.

Lightly footed, my gay boys, and 'fore George, the girls tripped it with an air and ſprightlineſs that does credit to the village dancing-maſter.

BERGHEN.

And we, do ye ſee, ſhall have a merry bout of it at our jubilee.

MORGAN.

Yes, to-day old Nicholas plays the fool to the life—he is honey-moon ſtruck, and remarries Blanch, his wife, after drawing, kicking, plunging and flouncing with her, for fifty years in the matrimonial yoke.

BERGHEN.

But, why not have two weddings? If Lauretta would give me her pretty lilly white hand—

MORGAN.

What ſay you girl?

LAURETTA.

I have not ſaid a word.

BERGHEN.

Modeſt creature! She is aſhamed to own how much ſhe loves me! Though you did not ſay a word—I did. I ſaid, if you would give me your pretty lilly white hand.

LAURETTA.

I'll lend it to you.

Slaps his cheek.
MORGAN.

Why! huſſey—

Exit Lauretta.
BERGHEN.

Never mind her; her familiarity ſhews affection.

MORGAN.

Affection! yes, ſhe has given you a ſtriking proof, with a ſmack into the bargain.

BERGHEN.
[3]

Let's have no more wrangling.

MORGAN.

I will have more wrangling, but no matter for that. I have orders from the jubilee bridegroom to broach a hogſhead of old ſtingo—I'll give you a cup of liquor, my lads, ſo ſprightly, 'twould ſet a friary and convent dancing! and ſo generous, 'twould infuſe benevolence into the heart of an uſurer.

OLD GLEE, compoſed in 1600.

MORGAN, BERGHEN, PEASANTS, LAURETTA, &c.
IF health's fair roſe begins to fade,
Take the advice that's here convey'd,
And ſoon the vivid tints will riſe,
Pure as the bluſh of early ſkies;
This is the dear advice I give,
Quaff your cups if you would live.
Chorus.
—This is the dear, &c.
Touch the trembling ſtring,
Fill high the foaming glaſs,
In chorus let it paſs,
Time and pleaſure, deareſt laſs,
Are ever on the wing.
This is the dear advice I give,
Quaff your cups if you would live.
Chorus.
—This is the dear, &c.
[4] Enter BLONDEL, in a Pilgrim's Dreſs, a Bandeau on his Eyes, in his Hand a Harp, ANTONIO leading him.
BLONDEL.

What noiſe was that?

ANTONIO.

Some villagers making merry.

BLONDEL.

Lead on, my boy—'tis well you found me in the foreſt, or I ſhould have loſt my way.

ANTONIO.

I may ſay 'tis well I found you—you have rewarded me generouſly.

BLONDEL.

And pray, my boy, what brought you ſo far into the wood?—

ANTONIO.

To look after a bird's neſt, father.

BLONDEL.

Not to rob it, I hope. Your gentle heart, my child, would not diſturb the happineſs of the little feathered family. Conſider what torture your parents would ſuffer, ſhould ſome barbarous hand ſteal you from them.

ANTONIO.

Aye, very true; but I only went to leave food where the old birds could find it for their young.

BLONDEL.

Heaven bleſs my good boy—Where are we now, my little guide?

ANTONIO.

Not far from the great caſtle I told you of, with the high towers and deep ditch.—Don't you ſee

(pointing)?

—O pardon me, good old man! I forgot you were blind; and I am [5] ſure, I would not inſult your misfortune for the world!

BLONDEL.

I believe you—your nature is gentle; thoſe who inſult or ridicule their fellow-creatures, for perſonal misfortunes, are only the ignorant or the cruel.—What do you ſee, my lad?

ANTONIO.

Only a centinel on the battlements of the caſtle, with his croſs-bow: but, father, you muſt be tired—reſt upon this bench—there, go back two or three ſteps—

[Placing Blondel on the bench.]
BLONDEL.

Thank you, my good-natured boy.—

[Sits.]
ANTONIO.

A public-houſe ſtands juſt oppoſite, kept by a generous old ſoldier, and I'll go and ſee if they can let you have a bed; but don't ſtir till I return.

BLONDEL.

Never fear; the blind muſt remain where they are placed.

ANTONIO.

I caution you, becauſe, if any body goes nearer that caſtle, the ſoldiers have orders to ſeize and bring them before the Governor;—but, la! I have forgot your name already—

BLONDEL.

Fitzwilliam, my good Antonio; you hear I have not forgot yours.

ANTONIO.

You muſt know, then, Fitzwilliam, I have a ſecret to tell you.

BLONDEL.
[6]

Well, my boy, what is it?

ANTONIO.

Why, it is,—it is, that—I am very ſorry—but I can't be your guide to-morrow.

BLONDEL.

That will be a great misfortune to me indeed: But why do you deſert me, Antonio?

ANTONIO.

It is becauſe I am invited to my grandſon's wedding.

BLONDEL.

Grandſon! Have you a grandſon?

ANTONIO.

Bleſs me! I meant my grandfather.—My grandfather, you muſt know, having been married fifty years, marries my grandmother over again to-morrow; ſo we are to have a jubilee according to the cuſtom of our country.

BLONDEL.

Then what ſhall I do for a conductor?

ANTONIO.

You ſhall have one of my ſchoolfellows, a flighty rogue to be ſure, very witty, but extremely miſchievous—but I like you ſo well, I'll not truſt you with him—no, I'll do better; I'll get you invited to my grandfather's wedding, ſo don't trouble yourſelf about tomorrow.—Heigh ho!

BLONDEL.

Why do you ſigh, my lad?

ANTONIO.

Becauſe I am very fond of—Oh, I am aſhamed to tell you—What do you think I am fond of?

BLONDEL.
[7]

Of dancing, I ſuppoſe.

ANTONIO.

No, no—

BLONDEL.

What then?

ANTONIO.

Why, why, why—a little girl to be ſure.—O my pretty Caroline.

SONG.—ANTONIO.—Gretry.

*⁎* O! 'tis not dancing I admire,
My pleaſures reſt in Caroline;
And if her hand but touches mine,
I feel my heart blaze all on fire.
But when I preſs her to my panting breaſt,
Then, then, we whiſper, whiſper all the reſt:
How I lament you cannot ſee us bleſt.
My Caroline is light as air,
And as ſhe ſkims th' enamell'd mead,
She ſcarcely bends the daiſies head;
Yet I oft catch the flying fair.
Oh! when I preſs her to my panting breaſt,
Then, then we whiſper, whiſper all the reſt:
How I lament you cannot ſee us bleſt.
[EXIT into the houſe.]
BLONDEL.

He is gone, and I may now take a view of this fortreſs. Within the maſſy walls of ſuch a place, perhaps the object of my long and weary ſearch is confined—Richard, royal Richard, my general, my ſovereign, my friend, [8] may there pine out his precious life in bitter ſorrow! The guards cannot ſuſpect a man apparently old and blind. The gates of hell opened to the muſic of Orpheus, when animated by love—the gates of this caſtle ſhall open to me who am inſpired by friendſhip.

SONG—BLONDEL.—Gretry.

RICHARD, my liege, my gallant king,
The univerſe abandon thee;
Thy friends and nobles diſagree,
Nor can to thee aſſiſtance bring.
To me the taſk remains,
To break thy cruel chains,
To ſave thy fav'rite fair,
Who ſinks in deep deſpair.
Unhappy monarch look for aid,
Not from laurels, fame or glory;
Not from Clio, heavenly maid,
Who ſhall celebrate thy ſtory.
A Britiſh minſtrel hopes to prove,
His loyalty and love,
Nor ſeeks reward but from above.
Richard, my friend, my patriot king,
Blondel, remains
To break thy chains;
Blondel thy friend
His life will end,
Or will to thee aſſiſtance bring.
(Sits.)
[9] Enter ANTONIO.
ANTONIO.

Well, father; I have procured you a lodging, and here comes the landlord himſelf, but in ſuch a paſſion with his daughter, about her ſweetheart, you never heard the like.

Enter MORGAN in a rage, pulling in GUILLOT, and followed by LAURETTA.
MORGAN.

I'll teach you, ſirrah, to bring meſſages to my daughter.

LAURETTA.

Father he muſt obey his maſter.

GUILLOT.

The meſſage is from the governor.

BLONDEL.

From the governor! lead me cloſe to them Antonio.

MORGAN.

I, I, I, choke with rage.

GUILLOT.

I come from the governor, inſult me if you dare.

MORGAN.

The governor, you dog, you foot licker, you ſpaniel, that fetches and carries for the hand that flogs you—I'll thraſh you, ſirrah, though you came from the devil, and every word you ſpoke conveyed a plague.

GUILLOT.

Hear me patiently.

MORGAN.

I won't be patient.

LAURETTA.
[10]

Do hear him father.

MORGAN.

I wont hear—I am not an ozier that bends to every blaſt—No, ſirrah, I am an old Britiſh oak, and ſtand firm againſt any ſtorm that blows upon me.

BLONDEL.

Good folks attend to my aged voice.

MORGAN.

The raſcal comes with a meſſage to my daughter from a vile ſeducen.

BLONDEL.

Nay, be adviſed by me, and I will eſtabliſh harmony among you.

MORGAN.

Well, I will be adviſed, old fellow—Here, Antonio, lead this minſtrel into the houſe, he appears in want, and though indigent myſelf, poverty ſhall never paſs my doors without relief.

BLONDEL.

Heaven will reward your bounty.

(Exit Blondel led by Antonio.)
MORGAN.

And do you get about your buſineſs, or, ſirrah—

GUILLOT.

I'll report your inſolence to the governor.

(Exit.)
MORGAN.

So one plague is gone thank Heaven, and—

LAURETTA.

Berghen ſhall never marry me, that's flat.

MORGAN.

Yes he ſhall—curſe me but he ſhall, and that's round. Why not marry you?

LAURETTA.
[11]

Becauſe father, he's a clod of earth, a log of wood, a ſcare-crow, with a noſe like a half ripe blackberry, and a face tawny and dirty as a new plucked carrot—ſee, father, leave our diſpute to the prieſt of the pariſh—

MORGAN.

The prieſt—no—I am not for appealing to the church, there a man pays double coſts, he pays for law and goſpel.

LAURETTA.

Don't vex yourſelf, father.

MORGAN.

I will vex myſelf, daughter.

LAURETTA.

The governor—

MORGAN.

Would ruin you—

LAURETTA.

No matter for that—

MORGAN.

Oh you minx.

Enter LA BRUCE.
LAURETTA.

Bleſs me here comes a ſtranger.

(Exit.)
MORGAN.

If it was not for the ſtranger I'd thraſh your jacket—

LA BRUCE.

Thraſh the girl's jacket—pray don't make a ſtranger of me.

MORGAN.

And pray who are you friend?

LA BRUCE.

I am—ſtarving with hunger.

MORGAN.

And what's your buſineſs here.

LA BRUCE.

My pleaſure is my buſineſs, and my buſineſs has always been my pleaſure.—

[12]But, friend, I want your aſſiſtance for a fair damſel I have left in the foreſt; a beautiful creature, and of quality, who has unfortunately ſeparated from her attendants—ſhe ſits by the ruins of an old building, where ſhe waits my return.

MORGAN.

Come in good fellow refreſh yourſelf, and I'll then attend you to the lady—you came in a lucky time; we have a matrimonial jubilee to be celebrated here this evening, between an old couple—

LA BRUCE.

In their dotage I preſume—I was married once, but am now, thank Heav'n, a widower.

MORGAN.

Well, perhaps we may find you a ſecond wife here.

LA BRUCE.

Oh, no, my firſt wife reſt her ſoul, is at peace in that earth whereon ſhe waged eternal war; and for her ſake I am reſolved never to venture upon another.

SONG.—LA BRUCE.—Iriſh Tune.

I HAD a wife of my own,
Still with her tongue ſhe chatter'd on;
Never could let me alone,
Clamper'd, ſcolded and clatter'd on:
[13]Blockhead, ape, cuckold and drone,
With theſe ſoft words ſhe flatter'd on;
Not in my body a bone
But with her knuckles ſhe batter'd on.
Row de dow, &c.
Kept me quite under her thumb,
Toſt my hat and wig about;
If I ſaid ought but mum;
Twirl'd me like a gigg about,
Making my body a drum,
Trivally beating and jigg about;
I was oblig'd to go glum,
Like an old grunting pig about.
Row de dow, &c.
Exeunt.
SCENE the FOREST—An old ruin in front—BERENGERIA diſcovered ſitting upon a ſtone, leaning upon BEATRICE.
BERENGERIA.

I am in ſome degree recovered, and will go on.

(riſes.)
BEATRICE.

Dear lady, you had beſt wait the return of the guide—we may be loſt in the labyrinth of this foreſt.

BERENGERIA.

Heaven will direct us—or perhaps death relieve me from the oppreſſing grief that weighs me to the grave—Well, I will preſerve my determination, and within the walls of a convent, ſeclude myſelf from the world.

SONG.—BERENGERIA.—Shields.

[14]
ONCE more my lyre, and then be ſtill,
To warn the world to count their days,
Leſt they their ſacred leiſure ſpill,
In evil works and evil days;
And now, my lyre, thou may'ſt be ſtill.
Once more, my pipe, and then be ſtill,
To warn the world how they affect
Things all too high, with ſtubborn will,
And ſtable joy for man expect;
And now, my pipe, thou may'ſt be ſtill.
My voice, my lyre, my pipe be ſtill,
Yet ſilent ſhall not be your fate,
When to oblivion's dusky rill,
Retire the little and the great;
Ye all ſhall found when I am ſtill.
LA BRUCE.
(within)

Holloa! holloa!

BERENGERIA.

Heaven protect us—

Enter LA BRUCE.
LA BRUCE.

Your prayer is heard—Here's your guardian angel.

BERENGERIA.

Have you diſcovered any place where I can lodge—

LA BRUCE.
[15]

Yes lady, but not the convent you ſpoke of—I have found a houſe with plenty of eating and drinking, and dancing and fiddling, and the landlord will be here in an inſtant—But ſure you have no intention of hiding your handſome face in a convent.

BERENGERIA.

And why not ſir—

LA BRUCE.

Becauſe I think thoſe who are in, wiſh to get out; and the doors of them ought to be ſhut againſt all virgins, who are not either ſo old, ſo ugly, or ſo ill-natured, as to deſpair of getting huſbands—and that ſuch places are only proper retreats for bad faces.

BERENGERIA.

But there virtue is ſure of an aſylum.

LA BRUCE.

Virtue! Oh! If virtue does not find protection in herſelf, ſtone walls, bolts, or bars, will afford her very little ſecurity.

Enter MORGAN, LAURETTA, &c.
MORGAN.

Holloa—

LA BRUCE.

Here, old boy, here—

MORGAN.

You have found the lady!

LA BRUCE.

Yes, but ſhe is found to be loſt—ſhe is going into a convent.

MORGAN.

Lady, I have an humble cottage near at hand, where you may reſt in ſecurity—Lauretta lend the lady your arm.

BERENGERIA.
[16]

Thank you, courteous maiden, for I am much fatigued—but Heaven muſt be obeyed, and it is our duty not to queſtion its diſpenſations.

GLEE.—Dr. Hayes.

BERENGERIA, LAURETTA, MORGAN, LA BRUCE, &c. &c.
SWEET peace of mind, ſeraphic gueſt,
How long thy abſence ſhall we mourn;
From yon bright manſion of the bleſt,
With all thy placid train return.
Exeunt.
SCENE.—A Hall in MORGAN's Houſe, ornamented with Pikes, Shields, &c.—BLONDEL, BERGHEN, &c. at a Table.
BERGHEN.

Come, old blind boy, I'll have ſome more wine, it's fitting for a man in love.

BLONDEL.

And are you deeply in love, my honeſt fellow?

BERGHEN.

Deep! almoſt drowned. A murrain on him for an urchin; he has been a Willo'-the-Wiſp to I. He leads one aſide as I walk, and throws me into the ditch—Scarce a day paſſes ſince I fell over heart and ſoul in love, but I have fallen over head and ears in the mire.

BLONDEL.
[17]

Your caſe is pitiable.

BERGHEN.

Pitiable! I ſay it is a deviliſh caſe.—You muſt know that I am in love with that there Lauretta, you heard abuſe me a while ago, as ſhe paſſed by. Some folks ſay ſhe diſlikes me, but I know ſhe loves me.

BLONDEL.

And you're the beſt judge.

BERGHEN.

To be ſure I am; though, ecod, ſhe has never ſaid ſo; but what of that! a fellow like me can eaſily gueſs at ſuch things; and I can tell which way the wind blows, when I ſee a weather-cock, as well as another.—Were you ever in love?

BLONDEL.

Who has been free from it; but, alas! remembrance lives in my breaſt, and hope has fled.

SONG.—BLONDEL.—Duny.

*⁎*OH, ſoft remembrance! airy ſprite,
Thou ſecond life of bliſs and pain;
Exquiſite ſenſe of keen delight,
Who giv'ſt our feelings back again.
How bright thy downy ſlumbers are,
Where love and tender fancy beams;
The ſweeteſt notes which fleet in air,
Awake at once thy fairy dreams.
[18]
But hope, too long deluded, joins
No more with thine her lovely form;
Nor copies from thy fainter lines,
The ſcenes her ſtrong ideas warm.
[Turns up the Stage.]
MORGAN, LA BRUCE, BERENGERIA, LAURETTA, and BEATRICE enter, while BLONDEL is ſinging—BERENGERIA ſtops—they ſtop with her—ſhe liſtens with Attention, and ſhews Marks of ſurprize.
BERENGERIA.

Good Heav'n! that air ſinks into my heart, and melts my ſoul with tenderneſs.

Exeunt Berengeria, and Lauretta; Berengeria looking back upon Blondel as ſhe goes out.
MORGAN.

Come, Maſter La Bruce, as you call yourſelf, we will take a cup with this muſical old beggar.

BERGHEN.

Ecod, ſo we will; let me tell you, he can pay his club with a good ſong.

Enter LAURETTA.
LAURETTA.

Father, father, the poor lady had like to have fainted; but ſays, if the blind man would ſing that ſong near her chamber door, which ſhe heard as ſhe went through the hall, it would revive her ſpirits.

MORGAN.
[19]

He ſhall wait on her immediately.

Exit LAURETTA.
BERGHEN.

But not till he hears my ſong—It is a good cure for love, if I could only take it; but I am like your doctors, who never make uſe of their own phyſic.

SONG AND CHORUS.—Gretry.

LA BRUCE.
LET the Sultan's wanton care,
Thouſands of the ſex prepare,
Gentle, friſking, pretty laſſes,
Young and handſome as the graces;
Let him kiſs them one and all,
What then, what then?
This concerns not me at all.
Chorus.—For like ev'ry thirſty ſoul,
I prefer the flowing bowl.
Let the noble duke or peer,
Sell his thouſand pounds a year,
Let him quit his graſs and ſtubble,
He'll ſoon find that life's a bubble;
Let him riſe, or let him fall,
What then, &c.
Chorus—For like ev'ry thirſty ſoul, &c.
[20]Let the valiant ſoldier go,
Seeking dangers to and fro;
Let him when the trumpets rattle,
Brave the foremoſt of the battle,
Honour fears nor ſword nor ball,
What then, &c.
Chorus—For like ev'ry thirſty ſoul,
I prefer the flowing bowl.
END OF ACT THE FIRST.

ACT II.
SCENE as at the opening.—Enter LA BRUCE, BERGHEN, Peaſants carrying Baſkets of Flowers; ſeveral others, Male and Female, following with Noſegays.—An old Couple, &c.—A Dance.

[21]

EPITHALAMIUM.—Shields.

LA BRUCE, and BERGHEN.
WHEN Nich'las firſt to court began,
And Blanch approv'd his love;
United time and pleaſure ran,
Like turtles in the grove:
In joy and ſweet delight,
They paſs'd each day and night.
Chorus—When Nich'las firſt to court began,
And Blanch approv'd his love;
Happy and gay,
Smiling as May,
Jocund they paſs'd their hours away.
When children bleſs'd the loving pair,
Kind heaven increas'd their ſtore;
Their boys were brave, their girls were fair,
And each a portion bore
Of labour in the field,
Which health and vigour yield.
Chorus.—When children bleſs'd, &c.
[22]Tho' age their heads with ſilver crown'd,
Affection did increaſe;
Diſſenſion ne'er their hearts cou'd wound,
Nor jealouſy their peace:
And ſtill remembrance ſweet,
Their placid minds would greet.
Chorus.—Tho' age their heads, &c.
BERGHEN
(Pulling back La Bruce as he is going out).

I would hold ſome ſecret talk with you, do you ſee.

LA BRUCE.

Do you take me for a fool—I tell you I can ſee, hear, and underſtand, therefore out with your private talk, without more words.

BERGHEN.

That's a houſe.

(Pointing to Morgan's houſe).

Now, though I ſhould go over the whole world, that there houſe would be ſtill before my eyes—for I loves old Morgan's daughter—that lives in it.—Heigh-ho!

LA BRUCE.

Heigh-ho! why, if you ſigh on at this rate, you'll want breath to court with. Will you follow my advice? Not a fellow living underſtands woman better than I do.

BERGHEN.

To be ſure I will. You have travelled, do you ſee me, and knows life—Now I am—am—ecod! I am a kind of a fool in theſe things; and you muſt know, ſince I have fallen into love, or rather ſince love has fallen into me [23] —I don't know what I am—but to be ſure you know the world—

LA BRUCE.

I am a Frenchman, and no Frenchman travels till he knows the world. The ways of the world are his means, my lad—France is the only place in the world where a man can learn to live upon nothing—

BERGHEN.

On nothing! Ecod, that's thin diet—I ſhould like to learn how you were taught to live upon nothing.

LA BRUCE.

I was taught to live upon nothing by loſing every thing—The leeches of Paris ſucked up my patrimony; its pleaſures I found pains; its ſweets, bitters. I there met with gentlemen who purchaſed upon credit, but never paid—tradeſmen, who ſet up buſineſs to be broken down—merchants, who ruined themſelves to ſave fortunes—and ladies—

BERGHEN.

Aye! what of the ladies?

LA BRUCE.

I was firſt taught experience from the ladies of the town.

BERGHEN.

Ecod, the ladies of the country could have taught you experience enough.

LA BRUCE.

At the gaming-table I learned wiſdom, by being convinced I was a fool; the courtezans plucked a little wool from me; but the black-legged ſhepherds ſheered my ſheep's carcaſe to the ſkin.—But ſee, your miſtreſs appears.

[24] Enter LAURETTA with a baſket of Flowers.
BERGHEN.

And with a noſegay for I—I's warrant.

LA BRUCE.

Then farewell; come to me when you leave her, and I'll give you ſome inſtructions in courtſhip.

Exit.
LAURETTA
(adjuſting the flowers)

RONDEAU.—Bertoni.

BLEST flow'rs that for my ſwain I choſe,
Thro' you the deareſt joys I prove;
Go, on his breaſt your ſweets diſcloſe,
And be the pledge of Laura's love.
From him I caught the gentle flame,
Which warms my heart and prompts my tongue;
Ah! let him only ſigh the ſame,
And this ſhall be my conſtant ſong,
Bleſt flow'rs, &c.
BERGHEN.

I am the ſubject of that ſong.

LAURETTA.

What! ſo early abroad to torment me!

BERGHEN.

Early—early do you ſay—as if one would ſleep that loves you—as if one wouldn't [25] get up at day-break to gaze upon you the longer.

LAURETTA.

There are other folks, who ſleep no more than you—but go off—I'll have nothing to ſay to you.

BERGHEN.

Nothing to ſay to me—Oh! do you forget what a hearty welcome you uſed to give me at home and abroad—how you uſed to ſmile upon me in the fields and in the houſe—don't you remember you could neither ſing mattins nor veſpers for looking at me.

LAURETTA.

But now I have ſeen ſomebody I like ten thouſand times better, who has made a tender impreſſion upon my heart.

BERGHEN.

Heigh ho! but did not I make the firſt tender impreſſion?

LAURETTA.

Never.

BERGHEN

Oh Lauretta—Lauretta—Don't you remember once in the garden—ecod I do—and once in the field—did'nt you tell me then I had made a tender impreſſion on your heart!

LAURETTA.

I hate you—

BERGHEN.

O dear—heigh ho—Is it for this I have rode before you to market—bought you nice top knots, ſcarlet garters and gilt gingerbread?

LAURETTA.

Did I ever aſk you for them?

BERGHEN.

Didn't you take them—haven't I helped you over ſtyles, and carried you acroſs [26] ditches—is it for this I have given you two young hedge hogs and a pet pole-cat?—but there is no gratitude in woman-kind—

LAURETTA.

Gratitude! you can't dance—

BERGHEN.

I have money.

LAURETTA.

But with all your money you can't pay compliments.

BERGHEN.

I can pay every thing I owe; I have plenty in my houſe.

LAURETTA.

You can't dreſs with an air.

BERGHEN.

Nay liſten—ſweet Lauretta—

SONG.—BERGHEN.—Scotch Tune.

LOCK'D in my cheſt I've fifty odd pound,
Iv'e four good acres of meadow ground;
For your bonny black eye,
Sweet Lauretta I ſigh,
Marry me my laſs, you'll in plenty abound.
Iv'e two pack horſes, a jack-aſs and ſow,
Barrow, harrow, ſpade, flail, cart and plough;
Ducks, turkies, geeſe and hens,
Fourteen ſheep in my pens,
Heifer, calf, cat, goat, and a fine milch cow.
A kettle of braſs, a pot to ſtew,
A waſhing tub, a churn, a vat to brew;
A dog that barks by night,
A warming pan ſo bright,
Say will you marry me, and I'll marry you.
LAURETTA.
[27]

Marry you! why, why—O here comes Guillot from my dear Floreſtine—I will never marry you.

BERGHEN.

Never marry me, I won't believe it—ſhe loves me after all—

Enter GUILLOT.

Curſe this fellow, I am ſo afraid of he—

(aſide.)
GUILLOT.

Well, maſter Berghen, ſtill poaching about this houſe! what do you want? who do you look for, and what are you thinking about—

BERGHEN.

What do I want? why I want to go about my buſineſs—

(going, returns)

What am I doing here? why, I's doing nothing I's aſham'd of—what am I thinking of? why, why, why, ecod it ſhall out—I's thinking as how, d'you hear, 'tis very odd you ſhould follow me to this here place.

GUILLOT.

While you follow Lauretta I'll attend you like your ſhadow, ſtick to you cloſe as torments to a guilty conſcience.

BERGHEN.

Lord have mercy on us.

LAURETTA.

Ah, dear Mr. Guillot, don't beat the poor devil with that great ſtick—

(ironically.)
BERGHEN.

There now, I tells you ſhe's fond of I—

LAURETTA.
[28]

Did I ever tell you ſo?

BERGHEN.

You never told me you were not, and that's the ſame thing.

GUILLOT.

And have you no anſwer to the governor's letter.

LAURETTA.

Give him this noſegay, and tell him I ſend it with all my heart—

(gives the noſegay.)
GUILLOT.

You ſhall hear again from him ſhorely, and be happy with him yet, if you perſevere in refuſing that clown—

(Exit.)
BERGHEN.

A clown—

LAURETTA.

Yes, a clown—ſo get about your buſineſs, honeſt man.

SONG—LAURETTA.

I LOVE no lover but one,
He loves no other but me;
Willing to make me his own,
I'm ready his own to be.
For he's a blade of ſpunk,
Can ſing, catch, carrol and glee,
Not like this lazy hunk,
This great booby.
(puſhes him)
By moon-light on the gay green,
My maiden heart he firſt won;
Each day at my door was ſeen,
Before the beams of the ſun.
For he's &c.
[29]Then ſay you booby ſhall I,
Give up the man of my mind;
No, ſooner blockhead I'd die,
Than marry a clown unkind.
My ſwain's a blade of ſpunk, &c.
Exeunt
Enter MORGAN with a letter in his hand.
BERGHEN.

She rejects me—

MORGAN.

An impudent minx, inſtruction is thrown away upon her—and you too dolt; your head is like a funnel, pour advice into one ear, and it runs out at the other without ſtopping—I won't be in a paſſion, but get out—

(thruſts Berghen out.)

Here, here is the villainous governor's letter—

(unfolds the letter)

Oh! this girl will break my heart—but no matter for that—

(walks aſide.)
Enter BLONDEL led by ANTONIO.
BLONDEL.

Lead me towards the caſtle, my good Antonio; I like to feel the warmth of the early ſun, and to breathe the pure air that accompanies its riſing.

ANTONIO.

You are ſo kind to me, I would lead you all over the world.

MORGAN.

What lies this baggage muſt have told me—I'll make an example of this governor—ſeduce my daughter! but he's a governor! [30] what's that to me, I'll have my revenge, and he's not the firſt governor who has deſerved puniſhment—fire and fury, yes, I'll find ſomebody who can read—

(ſees Blondel)

—ah my good old fellow, can you read.

BLONDEL.

Do not mock me pray—the Turks with hot irons deprived me of ſight.

MORGAN.

Poor fellow, but I am blind myſelf, blind with rage.

ANTONIO.

I can read, maſter—

MORGAN.

Then read this letter—

(Morgan gives Antonio the letter.)

I can not make out this German writing—it is ſo in and out, zig zag, like a chever de freze.

BLONDEL.

And read it out loud and diſtinct.

ANTONIO.

"Charming Lauretta"—

MORGAN.

O the villain! he would charm her into diſgrace! you muſt know this letter comes from the governor of that caſtle to my daughter.

BLONDEL.

From the governor! but go on Antonio.

ANTONIO.

‘My heart can ſcarce contain its joy, at the aſſurance you have given me of your conſtant love.’

MORGAN.

Her aſſurance! yes, yes, ſhe has aſſurance enough with a vengeance—go on—

(to Antonio.)
ANTONIO.

‘If the priſoner committed to my care,’

BLONDEL.
[31]

The priſoner!

MORGAN.

Why the devil do you interrupt the boy.

ANTONIO.

‘If the priſoner committed to my care, permit me to go out, I will come and throw my ſelf,’

MORGAN.

I would to Heav'n he would throw himſelf from the top of the caſtle into the bottom of the ditch.

BLONDEL.

Be calm, why do you interrupt the boy? begin that laſt ſentence again.

ANTONIO.

‘If the priſoner committed to my care, permit me to come out, I will throw myſelf at your feet—but if this night,’ here ſome words torn away with breaking open the ſeal.

MORGAN.

Aye, aye, that's my fault; but no matter for that.

ANTONIO.

‘Let me know by Guillot, at what hour I may have the happineſs of ſpeaking to you—your ſincere and conſtant lover, Floreſtine.’

MORGAN.

Meet her at night!

BLONDEL.

Why, friend, you are agitated on this buſineſs—why ſhould the love of the governor to your daughter—the honour—

MORGAN.

The devil—

BLONDEL.

Why ſo paſſionate?

MORGAN.

I am a Welſhman

BLONDEL.

Be calm—

MORGAN.
[32]

No, I'll ſtorm—I am from a country, where virtue, though reduced to poverty, is better reſpected than vice wallowing in riches.

BLONDEL.

From Wales—

MORGAN.

Yes, and a ſoldier, who would rather ſee his daughter wife to the meaneſt peaſant, than miſtreſs to the moſt dignified lord—

BLONDEL.

Let me preſs your hand.

MORGAN.

I fought in Paleſtine—againſt Saladine.

BLONDEL.

Ah! In Paleſtine.

MORGAN.

Aye, under Coeur de Lion—Richard of England—the greateſt ſoldier of the age.

BLONDEL.

But now a miſerable priſoner!

MORGAN.

My king a priſoner!

BLONDEL.

Don't interrupt, but mark—Fearing that perfidy which he had often experienced from the monarch of France, the noble Richard attempted to reach England in diſguiſe; but being diſcovered by Leopold, duke of Auſtria, was by him ſeized, and baſely given up to Henry the Emperor, who now holds him priſoner in ſome obſcure part of his dominions—But tell me, honeſt ſoldier, why prefer this country to your own?

MORGAN.

From neceſſity—My father having been killed in a quarrel, by the lord of the manor, about ſome game, while I was in Paleſtine, on my return I revenged his death, and wounded [33] his enemy, which forced me to fly the place of my nativity; but no matter for that—I now only feel for my king.

BLONDEL.

Then you loved Richard.

MORGAN.

Loved him! lived for him.

BLONDEL.

And would die for him—

MORGAN.

Damn me if I would not.

Exit.
Enter LAURETTA.
LAURETTA.

Good old man, I have ſomething to aſk you

[Takes Blondel by the hand].

Tell me truely what has my father been ſaying to you?

BLONDEL.

Is it you who are called the charming Lauretta?

LAURETTA.

Some folks call me ſo for a nick-name

[Smiling].
BLONDEL.

Then, your father is very angry with you, charming Lauretta. He knows the contents of the letter from your lover Floreſtine, governor of the caſtle.

LAURETTA.

Floreſtine is my lover's name, indeed! but who read the letter to my father?

BLONDEL.

Not I, for I am blind—my little conductor there read it.

LAURETTA.

I am very ſorry for it.

ANTONIO.

But, father, did not you deſire me to read it.

LAURETTA.
[34]

Well, no matter; but what did the letter ſay—

BLONDEL.

That if it was not for the priſoner under his care—Who is this priſoner?

LAURETTA.

No body but my Floreſtine knows who he is.

BLONDEL.

Your Floreſtine would throw himſelf at your feet to-night.

LAURETTA.

Would he!

ANTONIO.

He ſays he would, as I hope to be married to my ſweet Caroline.

BLONDEL.

He will come to you this very night.

LAURETTA.

Oh! I fear to meet him—

RONDEAU.—LAURETTA.—Gretry.

I DREAD to hear his voice by night,
In liſt'ning I find ſuch delight,
So ſweet's his tale of love;
And when I hear him ſigh,
My heart his words approve,
And yet I can't tell why—
BLONDEL.

You love him tenderly.

LAURETTA.

O heavens! I do indeed.

BLONDEL.

Your confeſſion is ſo ingenuous—I will adviſe you, charming Lauretta.

LAURETTA.
[35]

Pray do—for I declare I know not whom to truſt—but your manner, your age, and above all your blindneſs, which prevents you from ſeeing my bluſhes, gives me aſſurance. But, now I think on it—who told you I was charming?

BLONDEL.

Alas! the unhappy blind conceive the beauty of a woman from the ſweetneſs of her voice, and the ſoftneſs of her ſkin.

[Takes her hand.]
LAURETTA.

And the blind, I ſuppoſe, ſhew their approbation as you do, by ſqueezing the hand—Don't you ſay I have charms?

BLONDEL.

True, my girl.

LAURETTA.

And ſo ſays Floreſtine—but, indeed, my good old friend, if it had not been for my father's haſty temper, I ſhould have told him every thing that paſſed between me and the Governor.

BLONDEL.

So then, in expectation of a favourable opportunity to acquaint your father with the Governor's paſſion, you intend to receive him at night. Lauretta, you muſt not confide too much in your innocence.

[36]

DUETT.—BLONDEL and LAURETTA.—Gretry.

BLONDEL.
THE downy God of ſmiles and ſighs,
With pleaſure ſhuts his twinkling eyes,
Therefore my girl ſuſpect him;
And was he abſolutely blind,
By feeling he'd expreſs his mind,
Nor could you e'er detect him.
LAURETTA.
Good ſir, teach me if you pleaſe,
This pretty air—this pretty air;
I ſhall learn it with great eaſe,
To delight my chevalier.
[BLONDELL ſings the firſt verſe, teaching it to LAURETTA, while ſhe repeats the words and notes after him.]
Exeunt.
The Scene opens, and diſcovers a Fortification and ſtrong Caſtle; a Parapet Wall before the Ditch. RICHARD appears at a grated Window.
Enter BLONDEL and ANTONIO.
BLONDEL.

Well, my little friend, are we near the caſtle?

ANTONIO.
[37]

Yes, father, juſt at the parapet, where you deſired me to lead you.

BLONDEL
(ſitting).

That's well—take this money and provide me ſome refreſhment—

ANTONIO.

I ſha'n't be long—

(Exit.)
BLONDEL.

If my king be impriſoned within this caſtle, the morning is ſo calm, my voice will penetrate to the furtheſt cell—

(takes his harp to play)

—I will ſing the ode with which love for Berengeria inſpired Richard's breaſt.

[As Blondel plays the Symphony upon his Harp, Richard ſtarts, and appears attentive.]

DUETT.

BLONDEL and RICHARD.—Gretry.
BLONDEL.
*⁎* Surrounded in the thickeſt fight,
By enemies o'erthrown,
Defenceleſs and alone,
I ſhould have been depriv'd of light,
But I invok'd my fair—and love
And aid receiv'd from heaven above!
RICHARD.
A look from her whom I admire,
Would ſooth corroding grief;
Health, peace, and joy muſt ſoon expire,
Unleſs ſhe brings relief.
[38]Was beaut'ous Berengeria here,
I ſhould no future dangers fear.
A look from her whom I admire,
Would change my deſtiny:
Health, peace, and Cupid's cheering fire,
Produce felicity.
BOTH.
A look from her whom I admire, &c.
[FLORESTINE comes to the Window with Officers forcing off RICHARD; at the ſame Time Soldiers enter from a Poſtern Gate, and ſeize BLONDEL.]
SOLDIER.

Anſwer directly—Do you know who juſt now ſung with you?

BLONDEL.

I ſuppoſe ſome tender-hearted Chriſtian, who joined my lay as he paſſed by.

SOLDIER.

You muſt to priſon—

BLONDEL.

If you are ſoldiers, you'll be merciful—humanity is as congenial to a brave ſoul as courage—O! do not add to the miſery of an old warrior, whom the cruel Turks have deprived of ſight.

SOLDIER.

You muſt to the Governor, and perhaps your blindneſs may ſave your life.

BLONDEL.
[39]

The Governor—lead me to him. I have nothing to fear, and have information of the moſt ſerious conſequence to communicate.

SOLDIER.

Here comes the Governor; but take care you ſpeak truth, for death would be the conſequence of his detecting you in a falſehood.

Enter FLORESTINE.
BLONDEL.

Where is the noble Governor?

(Feeling about.)
FLORESTINE.

Here, old man, cloſe to your ſide.

BLONDEL.

I have buſineſs of the utmoſt importance to communicate.

FLORESTINE.

Speak truth—deception will be puniſhed with death.

BLONDEL.

Alas, Sir! loſs of ſight is worſe than death—how could a poor blind man deceive you? But are you alone?

(In a low voice.)
FLORESTINE.

Retire—

(The Soldiers retire)

—What have you to ſay?

BLONDEL.

The charming Lauretta—

FLORESTINE.

Ha! What of her?

BLONDEL.

Has read to me the letter ſhe received from you—

FLORESTINE.

I thought her father had got it.

BLONDEL.

True.

FLORESTINE.
[40]

Well, my good friend—

BLONDEL.

Oh! you are at this ſide now—Aye, now I am your good friend—How love ſoftens the voice and changes the ſentiment in an inſtant! But Lauretta deſires me to tell you, you may come this evening at any time moſt agreeable to yourſelf.

FLORESTINE.

My friend, direct me. How can it be?

BLONDEL.

A jubilee ball is given at her father's, and you may come under pretence of amuſement.

FLORESTINE.

Your ſinging on the parapet then, was merely for the purpoſe of getting to ſpeak with me.

BLONDEL.

For no other purpoſe—and Lauretta contrived the ſcheme.

FLORESTINE.

Ingenious creature! her wit is equal to her beauty.—Well, my friend, you may go, and pray excuſe the harſh uſage you have received—

BLONDEL.

But, Sir,

(feeling for Floreſtine)

—Oh, you are on this ſide now—Leſt the ſoldiers ſhould ſuſpect my commiſſion, had not you beſt ſcold me before I depart.

FLORESTINE.

You are right.—A cunning old pandar, I warrant.—

(Aſide)
[41]

CHORUS.

FLORESTINE and SOLDIERS.
FLORESTINE.
SIR, be gone no longer ſtay;
All this noiſe, and nought to ſay!
BLONDELL
Good ſir, hear, it was not I,
Your ſoldiers made the horrid cry.
SOLDIERS.
Come ſir, quickly leave this place,
Leſt you meet with ſome diſgrace;
And if here again you come,
Death will ſurely be your doom.
[Enter ANTONIO, with a Baſket of Proviſions—Joins BLONDELL.]
BLONDEL.
Chriſtians, gentlemen, beware,
Do not add to the deſpair
Of a poor diſtreſſed wight,
Whom the cruel Turks in ſpite
Have depriv'd of bleſſed ſight.
SOLDIER.
Happy for him he is blind,
Or we ſhould have been leſs kind,
And to death his fate conſign'd.
[42]Begone, retire,
'Tis the Knight's deſire:
But old man take care,
You die if you again come here.
BLONDEL.
Good ſir, pray believe,
The blind can't deceive;
If I return, I do ſubmit,
To hang or burn, as you think fit.
ANTONIO.
But ſhould he return,
As I've no mind
To hang or burn,
I'll ſtay behind.
[Exeunt BLONDEL led by ANTONIO, FLORESTINE and SOLDIERS re-enter the Caſtle, at the Poſtern.]
END OF THE SECOND ACT.

ACT III.
SCENE—A Hall in MORGAN's Houſe.

[43]
Enter LA BRUCE (tipſey), followed by BERGHEN.
BERGHEN.

WELL, what do you ſay? What does Lauretta ſay?

LA BRUCE.

Say—why, I ſay that old Morgan has appointed me ſteel-key in waiting over the cellar, and if you do not drink as you ought, why—you ſhall go ſober to bed.

BERGHEN.

Have you done any thing for me?

LA BRUCE.

O yes, I have done for you, and I am done for—I have been taſting, and ſcraping, bowing, and introducing myſelf to every hogſhead in the cellar.—Here's my gentleman-uſher.

[Shews the key.]
BERGHEN.

Have you introduced my caſe to Lauretta?

LA BRUCE.

What ſweet lips ſhe has?

BERGHEN.

Whoſe lips?

LA BRUCE.

The lips of the caſk of Canary.

BERGHEN.

Will Lauretta marry me?

LA BRUCE.

You ſpeak like an aſs.

BERGHEN.

An aſs—

LA BRUCE.
[44]

Yes; but not like Balaam's aſs; he was a great orator—he was the firſt that ever preſented a petition or remonſtrance—

BERGHEN.

Will Lauretta marry me?

LA BRUCE.

Marry! yes, marry ſhe will—you're a pretty fellow, and young; and, let me tell you, thoſe are a valuable articles in the market of matrimony; but while you are thinking of marriage—I am thinking—what do you think of—

(hiccups.)
BERGHEN.

I am thinking as how you are a rogue, who has cheated me out of my money; but I knows ſhe loves me, and will go to her myſelf.

(Exit.)
LA BRUCE.
(Suppoſing Berghen to be preſent)

I ſay, while you're talking of marrying, I am thinking of falling down dead—dead drunk—ſo you ſhall hear my epitaph—to be chalked on a caſk head—while I lie under—under, all along—under the ſpigot, with the wine pouring into my mouth—Come, liſten to my epitaph—

EPITAPH.—Shields.

LA BRUCE.
YE topers all, drink to the ſoul,
Of this right honeſt fellow;
Who always lov'd a flowing bowl,
And would in death be mellow.
[45]The lamp of life he kindled up,
With ſpirit ſtout and glowing;
His heart inſpired thus with a cup,
Aſcends where nectar's flowing.
Exit.
Enter BERENGERIA.
BERENGERIA.

The conduct of this minſtrel is myſterious—his blindneſs muſt have been an impoſition; every note he ſung rouz'd to my remembrance the golden hours of peace and love.

Enter LAURETTA.
LAURETTA.

We were in hopes, lady, you wou'd not have departed till after the jubilee.

BERENGERIA.

My buſineſs is urgent—pray accept of this

(gives money);

and, hereafter, you may experience more ample reward for your hoſpitality.

LAURETTA.

Your bounty, lady, is far above our deſerts—in being hoſpitable, we only did our duty: but the old man, who pleaſed you ſo much with his ſinging, has miraculouſly recovered his ſight—and requeſts to ſpeak with you directly, on buſineſs of importance.

BERENGERIA.

Of importance! then ſhew him in—

Exit Lauretta.
BERENGERIA.
[46]

What buſineſs can he have with me—my heart beats, as foreboding ſome great misfortune—

SONG.—BERENGERIA.—Anfoſſi.

THE ſun declines, and yields to night,
His beams of Orient light—
He ſpeeds his fiery race
O'er wilds of azure ſpace;
Whilſt I am wretched and forlorn,
He ſtill returns to cheer the morn.—
Once! ah! once, I roſe free as the light,
Each day ſmiling, gay and bright,
Life elating
Joy creating,
Spreading peace—whilſt ſoft delight
Crown'd the morn and bleſs'd the night.
Enter BLONDEL.
BERENGERIA.

Well, Sir, you have deſired to be introduced to me.

BLONDEL.

It is true, lady; and in ſoliciting the honour, I have experienced the difficulty of obtaining admiſſion to the great, even to be of ſervice to them.—

(Bows.)
BERENGERIA.
[47]

From whom, pray, and where did you learn the plaintive air I heard you ſing with ſo much taſte?

BLONDEL.

That ſecret, lady, can only be communicated to the Queen of England.

BERENGERIA.

Sir!

BLONDEL.

To royal Richard's conſort, before whom I kneel.—

(kneels)
BERENGERIA.

Am I betrayed?

BLONDEL.

No, lady, but known.

BERENGERIA.

Who are you? ſpeak!

BLONDEL.

My long and faithful ſervices inſpire me to hope that Blondel, your minſtrel, is not quite forgotten.

BERENGERIA.

What! loyal Blondel! Blondel, who attended my Richard to the the wars? Oh, tell me! tell me, does my ſovereign live?

BLONDEL.

A full year has elapſed ſince misfortune parted us.

BERENGERIA.

But is my King alive?

BLONDEL.

From the moment we ſeparated, I have ſought him through innumerable dangers, and I have this day diſcovered—

BERENGERIA.

That he is dead! O my impatient heart!

BLONDEL.

No Lady, royal Richard lives.

BERENGERIA.

Then Heav'n has heard my prayers!

BLONDEL.

Lives a priſoner in yonder caſtle.

BERENGERIA.
[48]

A priſoner—Oh! but then he lives.

BLONDEL.

Yes, lives and loves with unremitting conſtancy—within this hour I heard him invoke your name with all the fervency of an infant paſſion.

Enter MORGAN.
BERENGERIA.

Oh, ſir, your King—my King—my Richard.

BLONDEL.

Lady be not raſh—

(holding her.)
BERENGERIA.

What have I to fear? our worthy, honeſt hoſt is your countryman; and ſurely an Engliſh King has no ſecret, but he may confide in the integrity of a loyal Engliſh ſubject—Richard—

MORGAN.

What of my ſovereign—

BERENGERIA.

Is alive!

MORGAN.

Long may he live!

BERENGERIA.

Is a priſoner—

MORGAN.

He muſt be freed!

BLONDEL.

Such zeal will work wonders—but let prudence rectify the bounding ſpirit of loyalty.

MORGAN.

Lady, there are a noble troop of gentlemen arrived, who enquire after you.

BERENGERIA.

My faithful friends from whom I ſeparated in the foreſt—ſhew them in:

(Exit [51] Morgan.)

faithful Blondel, theſe are men of approved valour and undoubted honour.

BLONDEL.

May I inquire, my moſt gracious Queen, what accident brought you here.

BERENGERIA.

Love! duty!—Duty to my huſband, inſpired by love. I am on my way to the Emperor's court, to ſolicit Richard's liberty, which had he continued to refuſe, I ſhould, in perſon, have implored aſſiſtance from every power in Europe.

Enter MORGAN, marching at the head of the KNIGHTS and WOMEN.
BERENGERIA.

My gallant friends, our ſeparation was a fortunate event—I have diſcovered the place of your king's confinement.

QUINTETTO.—Gretry.

BLONDEL, MORGAN, KNIGHTS, BERENGERIA, &c.
BLONDEL.
YES, know my friends, within yon towers,
King Richard pines his dreary hours.
KNIGHTS.
What? Richard! O, ye heav'nly powers,
Great Richard, England's gallant king?
BLONDEL.
[52]
'Tis true, my friends, within yon towers
The hero ſighs out bitter hours:
Yes, England's monarch pines within!
KNIGHTS.
How heard you this? What friend of ours
To you the ſecret did entruſt?
Pray tell us how you heard it firſt.
BERENGERIA.
How heard you this? What friend of ours
To you this ſecret did entruſt?
O ſure my ſwelling heart will burſt.
BLONDEL.
'Twas I, who under this diſguiſe,
Deceiv'd the watchful centries eyes:
With joy and pain I heard his prayer;
Believe me, friends, brave Richard's there:
I knew his voice, within yon walls
There England's king for ſuccour calls!
BERENGERIA.
My pains and fears by hope are nurſt,
Lie ſtill my heart and do not burſt,
Ere Richard bleſs my longing eyes.
MORGAN and KNIGHTS.
[53]
'Twixt doubtful pleaſure and ſurprize,
What fears and hopes alternate riſe;
King Richard there!—let's force our way.
To arms! to arms!
BLONDEL.
No ſtay—let's ſtay!
We loſe no time by wiſe delay—
MORGAN and KNIGHTS.
To arms! to arms! my friends away!
BERENGERIA.
Honour calls, and glory,
Richard, great in ſtory,
Muſt be free.
CHORUS.
Soldiers ſtrike home!
Britons ne'er flee;
Glory's our cauſe,
Richard we'll free.
BERENGERIA and BLONDEL.
Come, my friends—friends all, join in chorus;
Soldiers haſte with heart and hand,
Blondel leads—victory lies before us;
Liberty and Old England.
[54] Enter LA BRUCE.
LA BRUCE.

So I have run about the world to a fine purpoſe—promoted to a tapſterſhip in Germany, and may now feed upon ſour-crout and rheniſh—A fellow of my genius too—a poet—a Heaven-born poet—none of your regular made ones—at a tranſlation now, I and three more, could extract from the dulleſt of all Opera's a capital kind of romantic entertainment—then for originality!

SONG.—LA BRUCE.

AN author I am, a true ſon of Apollo,
My merit is high, tho' my pocket is low—
Such potions of Helicon's waters I ſwallow,
A dropſy will ſoon be my portion, I trow:
With a rhime,
Chime,
Satyric,
Lyric,
Epic,
Ditty paſtoral;
And Scribble,
Quibble,
Panegyric,
I write faſter all
Than the Pierian ſtream can flow—
[55]Who wants an epigram,
Epithalamium,
Acroſtic, elegy, or rebus,
Prologue, epilogue,
Verſes on a lady's lap-dog—
For all ſuch wares,
Up four pair of ſtairs,
Repair to the ſon of Phoebus.
In a garret I live, on the floor next the heav'ns,
My ſtation is high, tho' my pocket is low,
What! tho' my affairs are at ſixes and ſevens,
Why! many a poet, before me was ſo:
With a rhime, &c.
Enter LAURETTA.
LAURETTA.

Did my father call?

LA BRUCE.

No, it was I call'd, I have a call upon you, and you muſt anſwer my call; poor Berghen has—

LAURETTA.

Met with ſome accident to keep him at home I hope.

LA BRUCE.

Let me look in your face—poor ſoul, you're very ill.

LAURETTA.

You really think ſo—Are you a doctor?

LA BRUCE.

No man better acquainted with phyſic, but my conſcience would never allow me [56] to play booty with ſickneſs, and live by the death of my fellow creatures—but ſee, child, your complaint is love, and for that I have no objection to preſcribe.

LAURETTA.

Well, let me hear your cure.

LA BRUCE.

Will you aſſiſt me?

LAURETTA.

To be ſure, if I ſee occaſion.

LA BRUCE.

Why, child, you need only look into the fields, the air, the ſea; look to the doves, billing and cooing, the ſparrows chattering and chirping, all two by two.

DUETT.—Shields.

LA BRUCE and LAURETTA.
WHEN we plough the furrow'd land,
Two by two the oxen ſtand,
All are coupled two by two.
In the meads and verdant groves,
See the am'rous turtle doves,
How they bill and how they coo,
As they couple two by two.
With the ſingle lad and laſs,
How the diſmal moments paſs,
'Till they're coupled two by two;
But when each has pledg'd a vow,
Lads and laſſes ſpeed the plow!
When you're coupled two by two.
Enter
[57] Enter BLONDEL and MORGAN.
MORGAN.

Your mother's not to be found.

LAURETTA.

She's gone to the green with the garland.

MORGAN.

Then 'tis time to prepare for the dance.

LAURETTA.

A dance, father?

MORGAN.

Yes, my dear girl!

LAURETTA.

Dear girl! 'tis a long time father ſince you were ſo kind—oh, that my dear Floreſtine was to be my partner.

(Aſide to Blondel.)
BLONDEL.

Attend to me—he ſhall be your partner.

(Flouriſh within).
MORGAN.

Ah! ha! they have begun the dance, and with ſweet warlike muſic; and now by St. George I'll have a partner—yes, Maſter Governor, you and I will have a dance together.

(Exit.)
KNIGHT
(within).

It is in vain to attempt oppoſition.

FLORESTINE
(within)

Morgan, I call on you for aſſiſtance.

MORGAN.
(within)

I thought you called upon my daughter.

LAURETTA.

O, mercy! 'tis the voice of Floreſtine, and in diſtreſs.

BLONDEL.

Now, Richard, now for freedom.

(Draws a Sword from his Breaſt going out)
[58] Enter FLORESTINE retreating before MORGAN.
MORGAN.

Pray ſtand back, let me have him all to myſelf.

BLONDEL.

Sir, you are in our power—do not diſgrace your courage by raſhneſs.

LAURETTA.

Dear father intercede for him.

MORGAN.

He would have ſeduced you.

LAURETTA.

No, indeed, his love was honourable.

MORGAN.

Honourable—

(Going.)
FLORESTINE.

I lament the fate of Richard, but can never conſent to betray my duty.

MORGAN.

Then we'll do ours—force him away, and confine him ſafe.

Exeunt Blondel, Knights, and Floreſtine.
Enter BLONDEL and KNIGHTS.
BLONDEL.

I have left a guard upon the Governor, and on his perſon we have found the key of the poſtern gate.

MORGAN.

The key! give it to me, and I will guide you, my brave countrymen, to the priſon. I have been all over the fortification before now, and know every turn and paſſage in it.

BLONDEL,

Then come on—Richard muſt now be free, or we muſt periſh.

CHORUS.

Soldiers ſtrike home! &c.

[Exeunt Morgan and Knights.]
[57] Enter BERENGERIA and BLONDEL.
BLONDEL.

Lady, our plan has ſucceeded—the Governor is in cuſtody, and your gallant attendants are now arming for an attack on the caſtle—

BERENGERIA.

You elate my heart with joy—but my Richard ſhall reward you—and ſure, if the pureſt friendſhip that ever influenced a ſenſible heart, can inſure ſucceſs, you, honeſt Blondel, have a right to expect it.

BLONDEL.

Your preſence, lady, inſpires us; your prayers will ſtrengthen our courage—'tis for our king we fight—he is guardian of his people's rights, and the arm that is raiſed againſt his life ſtrikes at their moſt precious liberties—

Exit.
BERENGERIA.

I will retire to my chamber, and implore the aid of heaven to inſpire every heart in the glorious cauſe of freedom and of Richard—

SONG.—Shields.

BERENGERIA.
FREEDOM, divine, aetherial flame,
Who bid'ſt terrific thunders roll;
Mov'ſt to ſoft harps the ſphery frame,
And wak'ſt to extacy the ſoul.
[58]For Thee the poet's ſtrain ſhall flow,
Inſpirer of the vocal ſtrings;
And Philomel forget her woe,
To aid Thee by whoſe aid ſhe ſings.
Exit.
The Scene changes to a moon-light Proſpect, ſhewing the Great Gate of the Caſtle flanked with Towers, a Standard flying, diſplaying the Arms of the Emperor.
Enter MORGAN, KNIGHTS, &c.—MORGAN carrying a Flag wound on a Staff.
MORGAN.

This key opens the outward gate, that ſtands before the draw-bridge—ſee how proudly the Emperor's Eagle flies—but I have brought St. George's flag—

[unwinding the Flag from the Staff.]
KNIGHT.

Which we'll place—

MORGAN.

You mean, which I'll place in its ſtead.

KNIGHT.

Are there any women in the caſtle?

MORGAN.

Women! why no—but ſuppoſe there were, when a ſoldier meets a woman, even in the very ſtorm of fight—let him remember he has a mother, wife, daughter, ſiſter, or ſweetheart.

[59] Enter BLONDEL, in a military Dreſs.
BLONDEL.

Fellow-ſoldiers, are you all determined?

KNIGHT.

All, all—though it is a forlorn hope.

MORGAN.

Who ſays a forlorn hope!

BLONDEL.

A noble hope he meant. What fate can a ſoldier hope for more glorious, than dying to give his ſovereign freedom!

MORGAN.

Beſides the garriſon are not above fifty—not more than two to one againſt us.

BLONDEL.

Open the gate—Keep a ſilent ſtep till we are all in.

(Morgan unlocks the wicket.)
MORGAN.

And then, huzza—I ſhall roar as if the devil blew a trumpet in my throat—

(They enter the poſtern gate).
Martial Muſic—An Alarm beat within—A Fight on the Battlement over the Gate.—MORGAN, at the Head of the Engliſh, falling, BLONDEL ruſhes forward to his Support, and reſcues him. the Germans are beaten off by BLONDEL. MORGAN remains, cuts down the Emperor's Standard, and erects that of St. George.—The great Gates are then forced open, and diſcovers the inſide of the Fortification. BLONDEL unchains the King, who comes forward at the Head of the Knights, &c.
OMNES.

Long live Richard, king of England.

RICHARD.

My gallant friends, my heart o'erflows with gratitude—

[60] Enter BERENGERIA, BERGHEN, LAURETTA, FLORESTINE, PEASANTS, &c.
RICHARD.

My love, my queen, my life.

(RICHARD and BERENGERIA embrace and retire.)
MORGAN.

And now, Sir, what have you to ſay to my daughter?

FLORESTINE.

I never intended wrong againſt her; the ſame principles which forbid me to aſſaſſinate the perſon of a man, command me to protect, not injure the honour of a woman.

RICHARD comes forward with BERENGERIA.
RICHARD.

Here I owe much

(To Floreſtine).

Reſtore him his ſword—he is a good ſoldier, and cannot make an ill uſe of it.—Sir, your fidelity to your ſovereign, and humane diſcharge of your truſt, merit my reſpect, and inſure my protection.

MORGAN.

O, if that be the caſe, take Lauretta with all my heart.

RICHARD.

Your honeſt hoſt too, my queen, muſt be rewarded—

(drawing his ſword)

we'll knight him—

MORGAN.

No honours for me, an't pleaſe your Majeſty, any little ſnug place in the houſehold will do—we have too many knights in theſe days—

BERENGERIA.

Then you will all attend us to England.

BLONDEL
[61]

(delivering a paper to Richard)

—From whence an expreſs is juſt arrived, with intelligence that the people, to ſatisfy the avarice of the Emperor, and relieve their King, have raiſed the enormous ranſom demanded.

RICHARD.

See, my queen, the church has poured forth her treaſures—the nobility their revenues—every claſs of my ſubjects have vied in loyalty.

BLONDEL.

And to the honour of my fair countrywomen, they have parted with their jewels and ornaments to aid the glorious cauſe.

RICHARD.

With their principal ornaments they can never part—beauty they inherit from nature—virtue they derive from heaven.

RICHARD.

To friendſhip and love I owe my liberty and life. It was a noble emulation of the moſt generous paſſions, and where they are nurtured, every other attribute of a virtuous mind muſt flouriſh.

FINALE.—Gretry.

CHORUS.
GOD ſave the King;
God ſave the King.
RICHARD.
Prais'd be the pow'rs above;
Prais'd be the pow'rs above.
BERENGERIA.
[62]
Oh! Richard, Oh! my king, Oh! heav'n—
RICHARD.
Oh! lovely woman,
Love this bleſt event has giv'n.
BERENGERIA.
'Twas Blondel, 'twas thy deareſt friend—
RICHARD.
My deareſt friend.—
To whom my warmeſt wiſhes tend.
From priſon freed by thoſe I love,
Surely I'd the world reſign,
For when love and friendſhip join,
We taſte the joys of ſaints above.
BERENGERIA.
To whom my warmeſt wiſhes tend.
DUETT
BERENGERIA AND BLONDEL.
Now when love and friendſhip join,
We taſte the bliſs of ſaints above.
CHORUS.
LAURETTA, BEATRICE, ANTONIO, &c.
Long may happineſs ſupreme,
Crown each light fantaſtic dream;
[63]Long may the God of love and bliſs,
Seaſon each impaſſion'd kiſs:
Love and beauty's choiceſt flow'r,
Is fair Berengeria's dow'r.
CHORUS.
RICHARD, BLONDEL, &c.
Long may happineſs ſupreme,
Crown each light fantaſtic dream.
Crowns and ſceptres, wealth and pow'r,
Are not worth this happy hour.
BERENGERIA.
O come ye happy lovers, come,
Let me your willing hands unite,
Your father's ſmiles confirm the doom,
Come join in genial ſoft delight.
GENERAL CHORUS.
Happy Lovers, &c.
TRIO.
BERENGERIA.
'Twas friendſhip, welcome gueſt,
Made all my ſorrows ceaſe;
Soft love now fills my breaſt,
With happineſs and peace.
RICHARD.
'Twas friendſhip, welcome gueſt,
Made all my ſorrows ceaſe:
Now beauty fills my breaſt,
With happineſs and peace.
BLONDEL.
[64]
'Twas friendſhip, happy gueſt,
Made all their ſorrows ceaſe;
Their friendſhip fills my breaſt,
With happineſs and peace.
CHORUS.
RICHARD, FLORESTINE, ANTONIO, MORGAN and KNIGHTS.
Long may the God of love and mutual bliſs,
Seaſon each impaſſion'd kiſs:
Love and beauty's choiceſt flow'r,
Is fair Berengeria's dow'r.
BLONDEL, BERGHEN, LA BRUCE, LAURETTA MARGERY, PEASANTS, &c.
Long may the God of love and mutual bliſs;
Seaſon each impaſſion'd kiſs;
Crowns and ſceptre's, wreaths and pow'r,
Are not worth this happy hour.
RICHARD.
Crowns and ſceptres, wreaths and pow'r,
Are not worth this happy hour.
BERENGERIA.
To love and friendſhip Paeans ſing:
CHORUS OF ALL.
Friendſhip, love and beauty's pow'r,
Join to bleſs this happy hour.
FINIS.
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Zitationsvorschlag für dieses Objekt
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4393 Richard Coeur de Lion A comic opera as performed at the Theatre Royal Covent Garden Taken from a French comedy of the same name written by Monsieur Sedaine by Leonard Macnally Esq. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-603C-5