The rape, or, The innocent impostors a tragedy acted at the Theatre-Royal by Their Majesties servants.

The rape, or, The innocent impostors a tragedy acted at the Theatre-Royal by Their Majesties servants.

Table of contents

Title page

To the Right Honourable CHARLES EARL OF DORSET and MIDDLESEX, &c.

PROLOGUE, Spoke by Mr. BETTERTON.

EPILOGUE

Dramatis Personae.

ACT I.

SCENE I. The Palace Garden.

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.

ACT II.

SCENE, a Terrace-Walk.

SCENE A lonely Walk within prospect of the Palace.

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.

ACT III.

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.

SCENE a Night-Piece of a Garden.

The Scene draws, and discovers Eurione in an Arbour, gagg'd and bound to a Tree, her hair dishevel'd as newly Ravish'd, a Dagger lying by her.

SCENE a Night-Piece of a Wood.

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.

SCENE The Palace-Garden.

ACT IV.

SCENE, the Cittadel.

SCENE the Anti-Chamber.

SCENE the Cittadel.

SCENE a Chamber in the Cittadel.

ACT V.

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.

SCENE, the Cittadel.

SCENE A large Space before the Cittadel. Drums beat a March.

SCENE, A Chamber in the Cittadel.

SCENE a rich Hall in the Palace.

[Page]THE RAPE: OR, THE Innocent Impostors,

FINIS.

§

§

[Page]

[Page]

THE RAPE: OR, THE Innocent Impostors, A TRAGEDY. Acted at the Theatre-Royal By Their MAJESTIES SERVANTS.

[...].

Hom.

LONDON, Printed for F. Saunders, at the Blue-Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New-Exchange, 1692.

To the Right Honourable CHARLES EARL OF DORSET and MIDDLESEX, &c.

[Page]

[Page]

My Lord,

WEre I not sufficiently assured, that your Candour is as great as your Judgment, I should not have expos'd the following Trifle to your Lordship's Censure; whose discerning Eyes would not fail to discover the smallest fault, did not your Goodness draw a veil over them: It is to that I humbly offer up this youthful Essay, which aims no higher than to obtain your Pardon, since it cannot pretend to your Approbation, having nothing to recommend it, but the Zeal of the Presenter: And this, my Lord, has been growing up with me from my earliest Years; that extraordinary Genius, and those admirable Qualifications, which distinguish your Lordship [Page] from the rest of Mankind, having created in me a proportionable respect and Reverence for their Owner, as soon as I was capable to taste true Sense, or to relish the excellency of those Writings with which your Lordship has sometimes been pleased to oblige the World. But as these Considerations gave me a very great Esteem and Veneration for your Lordship; so that which raised them to the highest degree imaginable, is that hearty Zeal, and unaffected Sincerity, with which you daily labour to support the Interest of that Government, for which I have been no inconsiderable Sufferer: And as this engages me in your Lordship's Service with all possible Devotion, so give me leave to hope that it entitles me in some measure to your Lordship's Protection; since the very same Principle causes us mean ones to suffer for it, which engages those of your exalted Quality to strengthen and uphold it; namely, a true Affection to the Protestant Religion, and the English Liberties; Both which were visibly struck at, and had infallibly been overturned, had not Providence made use of their present Majesties to rescue and relieve them. But I forget that I am robbing the Publick, while I detain you from your more serious Employments; I shall only beg [Page] your Lordship not to judge of the respect I bear you by the meanness of this Present; but to believe, that I shall always look upon the Honour of your Lordship's Patronage, as too great a Recompence for all my former Sufferings; and that no Title can be more considerable to me, than that of,

MY LORD,

Your Lordship's Most Obedient, Most Obliged, and Most Humble Servant, &c.

PROLOGUE, Spoke by Mr. BETTERTON.

[Page]

'TIS not long since when the well judging Age,

View'd nicely all the Labours of the Stage?

Then ablest Writers hardly purchas'd Praise;

Which now each puny Scribler gets with ease.

True Nature then and solid Sence took place,

Now ackward Farce prevails; with dull Grimace.

Thus little Poets cheaply get a Name,

Whilst Nokes, and Leigh insure the Author's fame.

It were less strange if such lewd Toys as these

Did the loose Race of Cap'ring Monsieurs please:

Who still their Judgements like their Stomachs treat,

Loath hearty Dishes of substantial Meat,

And Write and Judge as slightly as they eat.

But why should English, who in both excel,

And always us'd to feed, and judge so well,

Be now content on Snails or Herbs to dine;

And for light Kick-Shaws quit the lusty Chine?

Were our great Ben alive, how would he rage!

How would he scourge the folly of this Age,

And lash the Vermine who infect the Stage!

Who with so little Nature, and less Art,

A Theater would to a Booth convert:

For shame redeem your Credit, and forbear

To favour Drolls, such Piteous Smithfield Ware:

Try if to Night you can digest a Play

Cook'd in the plain, but wholesom English way.

'Tis no new fashion'd Mess, nor savour'd strong

With Poignant Sauce, of Dance, Machine, and Song.

It boasts no gaudy Scenes to Court the view,

And to save Wit, but little Musick too.

Nay, what is worse, prepare for Mortial noise,

Trumpet, and Drum, instead of Flute and Voice.

Yet let no Beau, who hears the frightful sounds,

Start, or look pale at thought of Blood, and Wounds.

But Cock, talk big, and hide his growing fears:

A Play-House Drum ne're beats for Volunteers.

EPILOGUE

[Page]

By Mr. SHADWELL.

Spoken by Mrs. Bracegirdle.

HOw full of Beaus this Circle does appear

Who hate all Camps, and will not leave us here,

For all the Fame of Talbot, Sydney, Vere.

'Las a Beau's tender, subject to catch cold,

And a rough Camp will make one look so old;

The cold so pinch, the heat so tan his Face,

He ne'er can ogle more with any Grace:

Poor miserable Beau is quite undone,

The lustre of his dear Complexion gone;

Besides Wounds in the Face, alack! and Woe!

Some cruel Bullet may cut off a Beau:

Out on't, who but a Sot wou'd not prefer

Pulvillio to Match and Gunpowder?

Or who would leave, so careless of dear Gut,

Locket's or Long's, for a vile Sutler's Hut?

Or would lie cold in Tents, or hard in Trenches,

Rather than in warm Beds with pretty Wenches?

Sweet Sparks do you continue in good mind,

Let others follow Drums, stay you behind.

You profitable Bees yield Wax and Honey,

To Poets Matter, and to Players Money.

If you, dear Beaus, should have so little Wit,

For grinning Honour your Delights to quit,

How should we want you inside Box and Pit.

Spite of old English Magnanimity,

Be you from Foreign fighting ever free,

And let us have your sweet Society.

Discourse at home of Van and Flank and Reer,

And rout French Monsieurs o'er a Bottle here,

But to the filthy Camp pray come not near.

Dramatis Personae.

[Page]

Gunderic,

Mr. Betterton.

Genselaric,

Mr. Williams.

Briomer,

Mr. Hodgson.

Albimer,

Mr. Zibber.

Rodoric,

Mr. Freeman.

Almeric,

Mr. Harris.

Agilmond,

Mrs. Butler.

Valdaura,

Mr. Mic. Lee.

Amalazontha,

Mrs. Betterton.

Rhadegonda,

Mrs. Lee.

Eurione,

Mrs. Bracegirdle.

Merinda.

Mrs. Richardson.

ACT I.

SCENE I. The Palace Garden.

Enter Briomer and Albimer.

Brio.

HAS the King din'd?—

Albi.

—He has; and the rich Fumes

Of Corsick Wines, which he too freely swallow'd,

Have made him vain; now he fights o're his Battels

Of 20 Years, and numbers all his Conquests;

Whilst the base Herd of Fawning Courtiers screw

Their servile Looks to seeming Admiration,

And cry him up a second Alexander.

Brio.

Could you endure the fulsom Pageantry;

Or be the Eccho to their loose Applause?

You could not sure; a generous Disdain

Shoots from your Eyes, and tells me, every Boast

Of this Vain-glorious King brands us for Slaves:

For sure the Haughty Vandal could not miss,

In all his Catalogue of former Triumphs,

That which made us his Vassals.—

Albi.

—No, he did not:

That was his labour'd Theme, his darling Topick,

The Gothish Conquest! that he justly stil'd

His Valour's Master-piece; began the Story

[Page]From the first Breach; not sixteen tedious years

Had worn away the slightest Circumstance:

And while he spoke, the Honourable Wounds,

Which for my slaughter'd Master I took nobly,

Seem'd to bleed freshly at it, like a Corpse

In presence of its Murtherer—There I left him,

And, in the midst of all his vain Harangue,

Stole from the Presence. But no more: the King

Is come to walk; let us observe at distance.

Enter Gunderic, Genselaric, Ferrismond, Guards and Attendants.

Gund.

Was it not brave? Speak thou, Genselaric,

For thou wert near me still, and thy keen Sword

Well copy'd out the Deaths which mine had drawn,

As if thou lik'dst the Great Original;

Was't not a glorious day?—

Gen.

—Yes, Royal Sir,

A day which should in Vandal Annals stand,

Redeem'd from time, in Golden Characters,

When dreadful Rhadagaise, the Valiant Goth—

Albi.

aside

'Tis the same hateful subject; let's retire.

Ex. Bri. and Alb.

Gund.

Thou speak'st him right; well he deserv'd that Title,

Whom haughty Rome with twenty thousand Talents

Brib'd high to quit her wasted Provinces,

And thought it easie purchase. Him return'd,

With all his Fame about him, I attempted;

Him in the head of all his Troops encounter'd,

Nor shun'd he my Assault. Like two large Comets

That blaze in opposition we appear'd;

Our waiting Armies watch'd the dreadful shock,

And in our lifted arms was wrap'd the fate

Of thousand Vulgar Souls.

Then, my Genselaric, then Ferrismond,

For you were present too, how did we tug

For Empire and for life! 'till cover'd o're

With well-plac'd Wounds, the Gothish Monarch sunk,

And my superiour Fortune triumph'd o're him.

By Heav'ns! I cou'd have hug'd my dying Foe,

Almost have envy'd him, he fell so nobly!

And made me sweat so hard for glorious Conquest!

Fer.

If such his Fame, (and he deserv'd no less,)

What then is yours, who bravely ovecrame him?

Gund.

Right, Ferrismond, and 'tis for that I prize

This Conquest more than all my other Trophies:

In all my chase of Fame, I never met

A braver Foe; for this his Captive Queen

[Page]And all his Female Issue I preserv'd;

The Males, to make my Conquest more secure,

Embrac'd their Father's Fate.—

Gen.

—'Twas fitting Policy.

But, sacred Sir, your Pardon, if I dare

To sound the Secrets of your Royal Bosom,

And humbly beg to learn why you design

To wed the eldest of those Princely Orphans

To Agilmond, our lovely Prince, and graft

A Captive Cien on your Royal Stock?

Now must I beg to know, what known will blast me.

Aside.

Gund.

I'le tell thee, Nephew,

For thou art brave, and therefore 'tis I love thee.

Ten years I reap'd the precious sweets of Love

Without success; for tho' my fruitful Queen

Was blest with numerous Births, yet all were Female

A Sex unfit for Sway; and my large Conquests

Must have been parcell'd out to Neighbour Princes,

As they grew ripe for Wedlock: Thus I murmur'd,

Till angry Fate snatch'd all my blooming Offspring,

And crush'd them in the Blossom—

Gen.

—I remember,

'Twas just before the Gothish Expedition:

And soon the heat of War dry'd up your Tears.

Gund.

It did—

But when I parted from my Queen, I left her

Just ready to lay down another Burthen;

Then grief and rage forc'd out this Solemn Vow:

If still you blast my Hopes, and your full Womb

Again disclose another Female Birth,

By my just rage it dies.—This said, we parted.

Gen.

Something like this was buzz'd about the Court,

Scatter'd in Whispers by the attending Ladies;

But soon it dy'd; and I had almost lost

The loose remembrance, 'till your words reviv'd it.

Gund.

Th' Event of things soon bury'd it: For Fate

Shook at my dire Resolve, and as o're-aw'd,

Cast in a Nobler Mold her pliant Issue,

And Stamp'd it with the Image of a Man.

The welcome News, by winged Couriers born,

Found me returning from my Gothish Conquest,

And cover'd o're with Lawrels.—

Gen.

—What could Fate

Do more, than make you great at once and happy?

Than give at once two such important Blessings,

A Kingdom and an Heir?

Gund.

'Twas much indeed: And I with fitting joy

[Page]Receiv'd the mighty Presents—

But oh! Genselaric,

How little do my present Comforts answer

The large Idea which my thoughts then form'd!

The Prince, my Valiant Nephew—

Gen.

—Sacred Sir,

Give your thoughts vent; and oh! forbid it, Heav'n,

That Sigh shou'd be occasion'd by the Prince,

The lovely Prince.

Gund.

—The lovely Prince indeed,

And there thou summ'st his Praise: I wish thou could'st,

Instead of that faint Epithet, have put

The Manly or the Valiant: but alas!

His outward Composition shews him Woman

In all things but the Sex; and much I fear

His very Soul's a Woman. Balls and Dances,

The Conversation of conceited Ladies

And fluttering Courtiers, are his chief delight:

He loves not Arms, to break the Warlike Steed,

Or dart the well-aim'd Javelin. Is he fit

To hold the Reins of stubborn Conquer'd Nations,

To keep my Fame up, and convey my Glory

To Ages yet to come?—

Gen.

—His tender years

Are yet unripe for Action; time may change

And form his thoughts to a more Manly temper.

Gund.

'Tis true indeed, it may; but that forc'd Smile

In which you dress your Face, seems to inform me,

That you my Armies headed at his Years,

And brought home Victory. Here lies my Grief,

The Remedy's behind. The conquer'd Goths,

Who brook my Sway uneasily, though rank'd

With my own Vandals both in Trust and Favour,

Yet wish a Prince whom they may call their own.

Gen.

I have of late observ'd a sullen haughtiness

In most of them; the sign of forc'd Respect,

And ebbing Duty.—

Gund.

—If to me they pay

But an unwilling Service, what must Agilmond,

Weak Agilmond expect, unless secur'd

By politick desences? Therefore 'tis

That I design to wed him to Eurione,

The eldest of the Captive Princesses;

That so her Title may secure his Interest,

And the respect they pay her Father's Blood

Blot out the Hatred which they owe to mine.

Gen.

But, Royal Sir, forgive me, if I tell you

[Page]The Prince is much averse to this design,

And all the Tribute of his Heart and Eyes

Are to the younger paid, the proud Valdaura.

Gund.

Too well I know it, but I know as well

To make my self obey'd: Valdaura! no,

Her Temper's too imperious; in her Face

I see the fierceness of her Father's looks;

It is not safe to plant too near my Throne

One of her haughty nature. But I trifle;

My Resolution's fix'd unalterably,

Nor dares he thwart my Will,—

Who have a double Title to his Duty,

As Father, and as King. Go you, Genselaric,

Attend the Prince, and bid him wait my Pleasure

Upon the Terrace Walk.—

Exeunt Gunderick, Ferrismond, Guards and Attendants,

Gen. solus.

Death to my hopes! he's fix'd unmoveably,

And all my Wishes blasted: But shall I,

Who nobly past through twenty rough Campaigns,

Tamely look on, and see a puling Boy,

A young effeminate Stripling, ravish from me

A Mistress and a Crown! It must not be:

Let Patient Slavish Fools drudge on, and bear

Th' uneasie Yoak of forc'd Obedience;

Such tame results as those never attend

The Lover and the Brave—Ambition single

Shou'd be too strong a Match for feeble Virtue;

But when

Almighty Love does with Ambition close,

What Force can their united Pow'r oppose?

Exit.

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.

Enter Rhadegonda, Eurione, and Valdaura.

Rhad.

Altho' the Honour Gunderick designs

Our ruin'd Family by this Alliance,

Be greater than our humble hopes cou'd aim at:

Yet still methinks a melancholly Cloud

Hangs on Eurione, and seems to tell me,

The Prince's coldness damps her comforts more.

Than all his Father's kindness can assure them.

Eur.

Madam, I must confess the Prince's coldness

Disturbs my troubled Breast; but 'tis because

I blush to think that one who shares your Blood

Should live to bear a slight.—

Val.

—Oh! my lov'd Sister,

[Page]How well that thought becomes your Royal Birth!

For the Prince,

Think not, Eurione, charming as he is,

That I will e'er receive his loath'd Addresses,

Though lately paid with undissembled fervour:

His slight of you provokes my hatred more

Than all his Court to me can raise my love.

Rhad.

Be careful though, my Daughter, how you treat

The youthful Prince; and since you must deny him,

Mix no disdain to make refusal harsher:

Humility and Meekness best become

The Conquer'd and the Captive.—

Val.

—True, we are so,

I mean our Bodies, but our Souls are free,—

Those he cou'd neither Captivate nor Conquer:

The Vandal Triumph is too great already;

Let's not encrease it, Madam, nor allow

That it can reach our minds—

Rhad.

—No, my Valdaura;

Just Heav'n forbid that Rhadagaise's Widow

Shou'd own a thought so mean! but sit it is

We shou'd dissemble; since a short Complaisance

To all the Actions of our future life,

May give unbounded Freedom.—You, Valdaura,

Retire a while; and when my faithful Briomer

And Albimer arrive, conduct 'em hither.

Exit Valdaura.

Now, my Eurione, disburthen now

Your swelling Breast of its uneasie load,

And breathe your Griefs into a Mother's Ear:

Love is no Crime, and sure the Prince has Charms

Sufficient to excuse a Female fondness;

Nor did you love unsought; and if your Passion

Continues still to Flame when his grows cold,

Unhappy it may make you, but not faulty.

Eur.

Blest be those Friendly and Relenting Pow'rs

That have inspir'd your Breast with such indulgence!

'Tis true, I love, still love th' ingrateful Prince;

False as he is, he's the same Charmer still,

Lord of my tender'st and most dear Affections:

And though I dare not to my Rival Sister,

Whose Spirit awes me, own my lasting Passion,

It burns as bright as ever.—

Rhad.

——Cherish it:

Valdaura's scorn will quickly send him back

To find a gentler Treatment in your Love:

Besides, the King commands him, and his Will,

Though ne'er so rash, when he is once resolv'd,

[Page]Cannot be safely thwarted.—

Eur.

—Still I fear;

For sure my haughty Sister cannot long

Resist the lovely Prince.—

Rhad.

—Fear not, Eurione,

Take it upon a Queen, and Mother's word,

Valdaura cannot wrong you. But no more,

She comes, and with her Briomer and Albimer:

Withdraw a while, and try to ease your Griefs

With pleasing hopes of his returning Passion.

Exit Eurione.

Enter Valdaura, Briomer, and Albimer.

Welcome, my Noble Friends; you that continue

Faithful and just to ruin'd Majesty,

I waited for your coming.

Valdaura, sooth

Your Sister in her Errour; 'tis not safe

To trust her with the mighty secret yet.

Exit Valdaura.

Have you, my Lords, dispers'd the weighty News

Amongst my Faithful Goths, that yet a Prince

Of Rhadagaise's Royal Blood is living,

And if they dare but struggle for their Freedom,

Will soon appear to head them?—

Brio.

—Madam, we have,

And they with undissembled joy receiv'd it,

But mix'd with some Distrust; they seem to doubt

The mighty Blessing; but assur'd of that,

They vow to Sacrifice to his just Interest

What e'er they hold most dear.—

Albi.

—Nor are they weak

In number, or in quality; the King,

To banish all resentment from their minds,

And make them fond of Slavery, admits them

To Offices of Profit, and of Trust;

The very Troops that Guard him are not free

From Gothish mixture.—

Brio.

—These are all our own,

And once confirm'd that they have yet a Prince

Of your Illustrious Line, will soon shake off

The Vandal Yoak, which now unwillingly

They bear, and seat him in his Father's Throne.

Rhad.

They know me, and my Royal word's to them

Sufficient Confirmation; but to you

I will unlock the Secret, how I sav'd

And kept conceal'd a Treasure of such value.

But here we are too open; let's retire

[Page]Into my private Closet; there we'll share

A joy too great for me alone to bear.

Exeunt. Briomer drops a Paper.

Enter Genselarick and a Lady.

Gen.

The Princess indispos'd! and will admit

No Visitants?—

Lady.

—My Lord, she's just laid down

To take some rest, to which of late she's grown

A Stranger.—

Gen.

—May her sleep be soft and quiet

As that of Infants—Whilst my waking thoughts,

Exit Lady.

Are as disturb'd as Dreams of guilty Men.

Ha! what is this;—

Takes up a Paper folded.

—Though 'tis not generous

To pry into the Secrets of another;

A Lover, near the Chamber of his Mistress

May plead a just excuse for being curious.

Opens it, and Reads.

My Lord,

YOƲ may safely depend upon my Intelligence; I have it from no worse a hand than our Royal Mistress's; therefore be assured that when your Party is fully formed, a Prince of her own Blood shall appear to head it. Meet me without fail at the appointed place and time, where I will inform you farther.

How's this? a Faction forming? and a Prince

Of Gothish Blood to head it? this confirm'd

By her who best should know, the Captive Queen?

Is then the cruel Policy of Gunderic

Deceiv'd, and a surviving Male yet left

To take sharp Vengeance for his slaughter'd Kinsmen?

Kind Fate that brought this Secret to my hands,

Meant not it shou'd be useless: this well manag'd

May either serve my Interest, or my Love,

Perhaps may forward both: let me consider—

Enter Rodorick and Almerick.

Rod.

This way the General went—

Alm.

—See there he stands;

And by the fix'd composure of his look,

Something uncommon fills his working thoughts:

Let's wait a while.—

Gen.

—The destinies of Men

Are not more surely Charactred

[Page]In Fate's eternal Volume, than mine here.

Suppose I tell the King,

One of these two fa [...]l Evils must attend it:

Either his Rage flam [...] high, not to be quench'd,

But by the Blood o [...] [...] [...]at Royal Race,

And so I give my [...] up to Slaughter:

(Horrour an [...] [...] [...]hocks my Soul to think it.)

Or if his Pol [...]y [...] his Anger,

The Fatal [...] the Prince and her,

To settle [...] [...]nd I throw

The only [...] I love

Into my [...] —

[...] must not, cannot, shall not be.

Rod.

[...] [...]eems disturb'd, as if his thoughtful Soul

We [...]e [...] betwixt two deep Designs,

And doubtful which to fix on—

Gen.

Suppose I carry it to the Captive Queen;

And since the Lives of her and all her Nation

Are in my Hands, say I disclose my Passion

For [...]ght Eurione, and make her the Price

Of my Important Silence; if that fails,

Add my Assistance too, to join in it;

By Heav'n it wears a forward face of hope,

Nor can it fail to take—it shall be so.

Alm.

His looks clear up; the Resolution's taken,

Be't what it will.—My Lord, we wait your leisure.

Gen.

O! my best Friends, you come most opportunely:

I want your kind Assistance in some matters

Of mighty Moment; and so much I trust

Your well experienc'd Faith, I will not doubt

But you dare follow wheresoe'er I lead,

Although the Path I tread be full of danger.

Rod.

My Lord, you judge us right; all our Employments

Are but your Gift, when the Ungrateful Court

Repuls'd and cast us off, you took us in,

Stemm'd the rough Torrent, drest us in fresh Honours,

And fix'd us near your self:

And if for you we forfeit all,

We pay but back your own.

Alm.

—Our Lives are Trifles,

Which for a Drunken Friend we oft expose;

How shou'd we then refuse to lay them down

For you our Friend and Patron?—

Gen.

—Read this Paper;

The hand I guess; but to inform me farther,

Are you acquainted with it?

Rod.

—Let me see,

[Page]This Writing is familiar to my eyes;

And now the weighty matter it contains

Instructs my Memory: 'Tis Briomer's.

I oft have seen't when jointly we commanded

The Vandal and the Gothish Cavalry;

Most certain 'tis his own.—

Gen.

—It is not doubted.

Now take the Darling Secret of my Soul;

I'll turn my Heart quite outwards to your view,

Nor shall one thought escape you. O, my Friends,

I love Eurione; love her beyond Victory

Ravish'd from valiant Foes, that made Success

Hang doubtful long.—

Rod.

—She's destin'd for the Prince;

And if I err not much, her Inclinations

Bend that way too.—

Gen.

—They're biass'd by her Interest;

He's Heir to mighty Kingdoms, she a Captive.

But wave we that? You see the dreadful Secret

Contain'd within that Scrowl; dare you join it?

I'm sure you dare; dare any thing, but basely

Desert a Friend that trusts you with his life,

Nay more, his Love—

Alm.

—We are your Creatures, Sir,

And are resolv'd to move as you direct us.

Rod.

Besides, this blest occasion wakes the memory

Of former wrongs, which call aloud for Vengeance.

Gen.

Let me infold you thus; in this Embrace

I tie my Fortunes to you: in our walk

We'll settle matters further.—

As some rich Merchant, when the Billows roar,

Holds fast one Casket full of precious Store,

Whilst all his meaner Treasure's tumbled o'er:

So while Love's safe, securely I survey

Fame, Profit, Honour, Virtue, cast away.

Rather than see my Darling Love distrest;

Let wide Destruction swallow all the rest.

Exeunt.

ACT II.

[Page]

SCENE, a Terrace-Walk.

Enter Gunderick.

THe Prince's ill-plac'd love to proud Valdaura,

With the loud Murmurs of my Gothish Subjects,

Distract my careful thoughts by Day, and haunt

My restless Dreams by night. Hard Fate of Kings!

Whose outward Grandure only serves to guild

The Slavery they undergo within!

And yet these Ills admit one common Cure,

His Marriage with Eurione, a Remedy

Which must not be delay'd; their Discontents,

And his loose Passion, if we give them time,

Will daily grow more strong; it is resolv'd,

And Fate, if it had otherwise decreed,

Shou'd sooner change than I.—

Enter Agilmond.

Agil.

—I was inform'd

Your Majesty commanded my Attendance,

I had not else presum'd to interrupt

Your private thoughts—

Gund.

—Come nearer, Agilmond,

Nor think your Presence interrupts my thoughts,

For they were full of you.—

Agil.

—I could not wish

To fill a Nobler Scene; yet humbly hope

That melancholly Cloud which shades your Brow

Was not occasion'd by the thoughts of me.

Gund.

And yet it was: For you, my Agilmond,

My careful Brain toils daily, and my Sleeps

Are nightly broken; all to make you great,

And to that Greatness happy—

Agil.

—Royal Sir,

If still I hold your Favour, I am both;

In that my Greatness lies, in that my Happiness.

Gund.

Priz'd you my favour at so high a rate,

You wou'd not dare to contradict my Will;

A Will whose chief and only aim it is

To make your Fortunes certain: Put not on

A Face of seeming Ignorance, my meaning

Is soon unriddled; why are your Addresses

So coldly paid to fair Eurione,

Your destin'd Bride? My Will has made her such;

[Page]And yours, if mine you valu'd as you ought,

Shou'd hand in hand go with it.—

Agil.

Your Pardon, Sir,

'Tis worse than Death to me to disobey you;

And yet 'tis worse than that to marry one

I cannot love.—

Gund.

—How! cannot love? take heed,

It is not safe to dally with my Anger:

Is she not Chast and Fair? Of Royal Birth

And Princely Education? flows there not

A winning Sweetness from her? Is there ought

That's hard in this Injunction?—

Agil.

—Only this,

'Tis hard to force Affection: fair Eurione

Has Charms to Conquer any Heart, but mine.

Gund.

'Tis then because that Heart of yours is steel'd

With Disobedience: but no more—Valdaura,

The proud Valdaura, whom you know I hate,

She is the Darling Object of your Love:

And doubly disobedient as you are,

You shun what I desire, and fondly seek

What most I loath.—

Agil.

—'Tis my Unhappiness,

To have my Actions undergo so harsh

A Misconstruction: but to prove my Innocence,

And that I am not what your Anger stiles me,

Stubborn and Disobedient; be you pleas'd

To cancel the Commands you laid on me

To wed Eurione whom I cannot love,

And I will quit all claim to fair Valdaura,

Nor see, nor speak to her.—

Gun.

—By Heav'n, the Boy

Begins to Article, and I must treat

On equal terms, and meet him half the way;

Whilst his Compliance but keeps pace with mine,

Moves just as far, no farther. Hear me, you

That dare thus trifle with your King and Father,

Hear this my fix'd Resolve:

By all my Glory, by my thirst of Fame,

And my great Name in War, to Morrow's Sun

Shall see you Wedded to the fair Eurione,

Or never more acknowledg'd as my Son.

Agil.

O Sacred Sir! call back that dismal Vow;

Kill me, and I will kiss the hand that does it;

But oh! condemn me not to loath'd Embraces;

See, on my Knees I beg it.—

Kneeling and Embracing his Knees.

Gund.

—Loose your hold,

[Page]Or I will force my way; thou! that art Manly

In nothing but in Disobedience;

That too is Womanish, 'tis Wilfulness

A Female Vice; no more, you know my Will,

Prepare to meet it—

Breaks from him and Exit. Agilmond lies down.

Agil.

—Rather to meet my Death,

For that must be the fatal Consequence.

Thus my sad Sentence runs, [To Morrow's Sun

Shall see you Wedded to the Fair Eurione:]

To Morrow's Sun will then disclose a Secret

Which Sixteen Years have faithfully conceal'd:

Unhappy Agilmond! thy latest Glass

Of Life is running now, and the last Sand

Will steal away to Morrow.—

Enter Amalazontha.

Amal.

—I met the King

With Fury in his Looks, regardlesly

He past along, and in a surly tone

Bad me, go teach my Son Obedience.

Sees the Prince.

See, there he lies! alas! is that a Couch

Fit for the Heir of Mighty Gunderic?

Goes to him.

What means my Agilmond? what sawcy Grief

Usurps a Breast so dear to me as thine?

And yet I fear to ask, for sure it is

Of Mighty Weight, that bows you to the Earth

As you were rooted there.—

Agil.

—Forgive me, Madam,

That must alarm your Ears with sounds more dismal

Than Groans of Mandrakes, or the Scritch-Owl's Note;

The Croaks of Ravens at a Sickman's Window

Would be but Musick to the News I bear.

Amal.

Alas! what means this dreadful Preparation?

Is the great Secret of your Sex disclos'd?

Has Gunderick discover'd what you are?

He has not sure; for as I enter'd here

He spoke to me of you, and call'd you Son.

Agil.

'Tis true, he has not yet; but oh! to Morrow.

To Morrow he has vow'd that I shall wed

Eurione, and then the fatal Secret

Must needs be known; and well you know his Vows,

However rash, are obstinately kept.

Amal.

—Too well I know it;

Nor is this Vow the first. O! cruel Gunderick!

Was't not enough, rash and inhuman Prince!

That when this precious Burthen fill'd my Womb,

You doom'd it then to Death? but must I now,

When Sixteen Years have made it dearer to me,

And ty'd it to my Heartstrings, see it Butcher'd

[Page]By thy unnatural and savage rage?

Agil.

Be witness, Heav'n, how little that afflicts me!

Your Danger sinks me, under that I bend,

Unable to sustain it. Permit me, Madam,

To dye for both; to Morrow dooms me;

Let me but dye now;

And the important Secret dies with me,

And gives new life to you.—

Amal.

—No, Agilmond,

Our Case is dangerous, but not desperate:

Through all these Clouds I spye one Ray of Hope

Break brightly forth, and gild the horrid Scene:

Eurione is Virtuous and Discreet;

We'll trust th'important Secret to her knowledge;

And sure she will not scruple to assist

Two Royal Suppliants. Come, my Agilmond,

Wait on the King, and seemingly comply,

Leave the Event of things to me and Heav'n;

The Gods that watch'd to guard your Infant state,

Will save you still, and their own Work compleat.

Exeunt.

SCENE A lonely Walk within prospect of the Palace.

Enter Briomer.

Curse on my Negligence! to lose a Paper

Of such a vast Concern! my life's wrap'd in it;

My life's a trifle; but the lives of all

My Countrymen, nay ev'n the Queen's and Prince's

Are by my fatal carelessness expos'd.

The best that I can hope, is that the Queen

Her self has found it; yet suppose ev'n that,

How wretched must I be! How should I look

On one so much endanger'd by my Folly!

Enter Gen. Rod. & Alm.

O that I had it! tho' for every Letter

I paid a ruddy drop of that rich Blood

Which warms my Heart, I should not think it dear.

Gen.

He's here! and by that gloomy look confirms me

The Writing was his own, and that already

He has mist the Letter; wait a while without

And be not seen, I'll sound him at a distance.

Ex. Rod. & Alm.

My Lord, I have observ'd, for Friendship's Eye

Is quick and piercing, in your Face of late

Unusual Mixtures, seriousness and joy;

As if your busie Soul were burthen'd with

Some weighty matter, happy at once and dangerous.

[Page]Brio.

Your Eyes, my Lord, are ill Intelligencers,

To represent as things of Weight and Moment,

The sudden Starts of an uneven temper.

Gen.

And yet I fear your Tongue has scarcely given

So just an Information as my Eyes.

But wave we this discourse: hear you no News?

Brio.

Not I, my Lord; 'twas always my Opinion,

That Curious and Inquisitive were names

Fit for the softer Sex.—

Gen.

—I'll tell you then.

'Tis whisper'd to the King that still a Prince

Of Gothish Blood is living.—

Brio.

—Ha! what says he?

Aside.

Gen.

Now you, my Lord, if such a one there be,

Can sure inform me of't.—

Brio.

—Dreams, idle Dreams:

For were there such, I could not but have known it.

Gen.

Why so 'tis whisper'd too; and that your self

Now form a Faction to assist his Cause

Amongst the discontented Goths.—

Brio.

—My Lord,

I know my Duty to my General:

Had any other dar'd to speak these words,

My Sword e're now had been unsheath'd, to right

My injur'd Honour.

Gen.

This Paper would have forc'd it back again,

Shews the Letter.

And nail'd it to the Scabbard.

Brio.

—'Tis the same,

And he's alone; blest opportunity!

My Lord, you have my Secret; but you must

Restore me that, or with it take my life.

Draws. Genselaric whistles,

Enter Rodoric and Almeric, they rush on him and disarm him.

Gen.

I will be forc'd to neither—Disarm him. So;

Give me his Sword: now leave us to our selves,

Ex. Rod. and Alm.

And on your lives no word of what has happen'd.

Brio.

What shall I judge

Of these Proceedings? Base at once and Generous?

Gen.

You seem to be surpriz'd, and your amazement

Is too well grounded to create my Wonder:

Yet think not that I summon'd these to help me

Because I fear'd your Sword; you know I fear not;

But could not wound the Breast of one I honour,

Nor suffer you to kill the Friend that loves you.

Brio.

My Lord, I understand you not, your words

Are full of Mystery:

But could you be a Friend to so much Misery,

'Twere noble to excess.—

[Page]Gen.

—I can, and will be.

Believe me, Briomer, 'tis a Solemn Truth,

I hate this Gunderick, this Tyrant, more

Than happy Men the thoughts of Death with Torture;

And if there be a Hatred beyond that,

I hate the Prince yet more.—

Brio.

—'Tis wondrous strange!

So favour'd, so belov'd!—

Gen.

—Grant all this true,

That I am great in Favour, and in Trust;

If they at the same time tear from my Heart

The only Person that my Soul is fond of,

And give her to th' Embraces of another;

Does not this cancel all?—

Brio.

—'Tis true indeed,

That injur'd Love admits no Compensation.

Gen.

This is my case: now tell me, Briomer,

What may that Man deserve, that being Master

Of this important Secret, which commands

The Lives and Fortunes of a mighty Nation,

Not only locks it safe within his Breast,

And buries it in silence, but breaks through

The Solemn Ties of Duty, and of Blood,

To tempt an equal hazard, nay, to make

By his assistance the Attempt secure,

And past the fear of failing.—

Brio.

—He deserves

What e'er his forward Wishes can aspire to,

What e'er a rescu'd Nation can bestow.

Gen.

Cou'd this, or more, deserve the fair Eurione,

I durst perform it for her: now you have

The mighty Secret: tell me, my Lord,

May I have leave to hope?—

Brio.

—Not only hope,

But Certainty attends you. I dare pawn

My yet untainted Honour, that the Queen

Will give a glad consent: your Birth is Princely,

Your Fame is great, and what you now design

Is more than Kingly.—

Gen.

—Take your Sword, My Lord;

And that I may not leave a doubt upon you,

Thus I disperse your fears.—Now take me to you,

Tears the Letter.

And mould me as you please.—

Brio.

——Welcome, brave Sir,

Be this Embrace the Seal of lasting Friendship

Between us two; I'll lead you to the Queen,

Who shall confirm all that your hopes can aim at.

[Page]Gen.

O my best Friend, make good this mighty Promise,

And Heav'n it self has nothing more to give me.

Exeunt.

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.

Enter Eurione, and Merinda.

Eur.

The sence of former Happiness encreases

Our present Misery; and the fresh remembrance

Of those dear Vows which Agilmond once paid,

Does but imbitter more his late neglect.

Merinda, sing the Song I so well lov'd,

Since Agilmond grew false.—

SONG.

HOw long must Women wish in vain

A constant Love to find?

No Art can fickle Man retain,

Or fix a roving Mind.

Yet fondly we our selves deceive,

And empty Hopes pursue;

Though false to others, we believe

They will to us prove true.

But oh! the Torment! to discern

A Perjur'd Lover gone;

And yet by sad experience learn

That we must still love on!

How strangely are we fool'd by Fate,

Who tread the Maze of Love!

When most desirous to retreat,

We know not how to move.

Enter Amalazontha.

Mer.

Madam, the Queen.—

Amal.

What, fair Eurione,

Indulging still those melancholly thoughts

Which prey upon your inward Peace, and cloud

The lustre of your Eyes?

Eur.

My thoughts and looks

Are such as well become the humble Fortune

Of our unhappy House.

Amal.

Fortune's unjust

To wound such Innocence (yet I must join

[Page]In her Unjustice too) I come, Eurione,

To put your Virtue to a mighty Tryal;

To trust you with a Secret of such weight

As must admit no other Ear but yours.

Eur.

Merinda, wait without—Madam, you honour me,

Ex. Mer.

To think me worthy of so great a Trust;

Nor can I e'er be guilty of such baseness,

As to abuse so generous a Confidence.

Amal.

'Tis that belief makes me unlock my Heart,

And give its darling Secret to you; know then,

To Morrow Gunderick designs to wed you

To Agilmond; blush not, Eurione,

The Chast and Virtuous Love you bear the Prince

Carries no Guilt along with it; and sure

The Gods themselves inspir'd you with that Love,

To save his life and mine—

Eur.

—Can any danger

Threaten such precious lives? O! bless me, Madam,

By making me the happy Instrument

Of saving them, though at th' expence of mine.

Amal.

We would not purchase ours at such a rate:

But, generous Eurione, prepare

To hear surprizing News; summon your Virtue,

For you will need it all: Suppose I come,

Like early Frosts, to nip your blooming hopes,

And blast the Fruit for ever.—

Eur.

—Hope of late

Has been a Stranger here. I well perceive

Your Majesty approves not of that Honour

The King designs me; and I cannot murmur,

But mourn my want of Merit.—

Amal.

—Fair Eurione,

Mistake me not, I grant you merit all things;

And were he capable to meet your love,

How gladly would I forward it!—

Eur.

Not capable?

Alas! the killing word! My Rival Sister

Has Charms, I find, too strong for me to strive with.

Amal.

Still you mistake me; take it in a word,

My Agilmond—But see we are prevented.

Enter Gunderic, Rhadegonda, Agilmond, Valdaura, Genselarick, Ferrismond, Rodorick, Almerick, Briomer, Albimer, Guards and Attendants.

Embrace the offer which the King will make,

Till I inform you farther.—

Gund.

Though Right of Conquest, and the chance of War

[Page]Have firmly join'd the Gothish Crown to mine;

Yet still methinks Possession seems uneasie,

Since you, my Royal Sister, are a Mourner:

And whilst your Tears attend my yearly Triumphs,

That Scene of Sorrow dashes all my Joys,

And palls the Tast of Pleasure.—

Rhad.

—Tears, my Lord,

Are a just Tribute I must hourly pay

For Rhadagaise's loss.—

Gund.

—Forget it, Madam,

And suffer yours, like other Griefs, to find

A cure from time.—

Rhad.

(—They will, I hope, and soon.)

Aside.

No time, my Lord, can ever end my Griefs,

To him.

But that which ends me too—

Gund.

—Hope better, Madam;

Or if time fails, let me your kinder Comforter

Prescribe a cure; a cure which shall at once

Heal all your Griefs, and dry up all your Tears,

Or change the sad and melancholly Current

To chearful Streams of Joy. Draw near, my Agilmond,

And trust a Father's care to make your life,

And all the remainder of your time to come,

Happy at once, and Great.—

Agil.

—I stand prepar'd

To meet your Royal Will with full Obedience.

Gund.

Come to my Arms, thou Comfort of my Age.

Dare you to my Disposal, Madam, trust

To Rhad.

This Beauteous Princess?—

Rhad.

—She is yours, my Lord,

So are we all, your Captives, and your Slaves;

How should we then deny to be dispos'd

By you, our Master, and our Conquerour?

Gund.

The Names of Captive, and of Conquerour

This hour shall cancel, and blot out for ever;

But for the mighty Trust you now repose,

Thus low I bow to thank you. Noble Nephew;

And you, my Lords, attend to what I say.

Though the rough hand of War first ty'd the Knot

Which binds together both my Diadems,

Yet the soft bands of Love shall fasten it.

Approach, fair Virgin, and receive from me,

The greatest Present Gunderick can make,

My Agilmond, and with him both my Kingdoms;

And if my flattering hopes deceive me not,

In giving him, I give the greater Gift.

Why are you silent, lovely Innocence?

[Page]Methinks the vastness of a Gift like this

Should justly challenge Thanks.—

Rhad.

—Impute her Silence

To Maiden Modesty, and her just surprise;

A Virgins Tongue moves only in her looks,

And she in Blushes speaks her glad consent.

Gund.

My Wishes are compleat; nor shall our joys

Be cramp'd by dull delay. To Morrow's Sun

That yearly Celebrates my Gothish Triumph,

Shall shine with double Light, whilst to his Splendor,

Their Marriage-Torch shall add a brighter lustre.

My Lords, prepare to grace the wish'd Solemnity

With all becoming Honours. You, Genselaric,

Draw forth my Troops, and see the Pomp set off

With all the glorious Pageantry of War.

Exeunt omnes, praeter Genselaric, Rodoric, and Almeric. Agil. drops a Dagger as he goes out, Rod. takes it up.

Gen.

Confusion on them all! How could I stand

Thus tamely by, and see my panting Heart

Pluck'd from my trembling Bosom fresh and bleeding

By this inhumane King? Am I a Coward?

Answer me, Friends, am I that wretched thing?

I must be sure; I could not else look on,

And see the Tyrant ravish from my Soul

All it holds dear and precious.—

Rod.

—'Tis a patience

Extreamly hard to practice; nor could you

So well disguise your thoughts, but that I fear'd,

The King, when he addrest himself to you,

Wou'd have discover'd something.—

Alm.

—'Twas most lucky

That he retir'd so soon; for I perceiv'd

Your Forehead glow, your eager Pulse beat fast,

And your full Breast swell at the harsh injunction.

Gen.

By Heav'ns he mock'd me—"You, Genselaric,

"Draw forth my Troops, and see the Pomp set off.

Yes, I will set it off; but in a manner

They little think of; now, by all my wrongs

It is a Noble thought: draw near, my Friends,

And swear on this good Sword to undertake

Whatever I desire; nor shall the danger

Be yours alone, I'll share in all the hazard,

And shoot the Gulf as well as you—

Rod.

I swear

To execute whatever you command;

Nor Racks, nor Tortures shall deter me from it,

Or force the weighty Secret from my Bosom.

Alm.

I swear the same.—

[Page]Gen.

—O! let me rivet you

For ever to my Breast, the truest Friends

That ever Man was blest with. Listen both,

And to your Bosoms I'll impart a business

Would startle any Courage less than yours.

I must enjoy Eurione, or die;

This Night, the Eve of all my destin'd Sorrows,

Shall make me blest, and revel in full Joys.

The Princess every Night, as I'm inform'd,

Walks singly forth, and in a lonely Arbour

Enjoys her private thoughts; the place I know;

Thither we'll haste, and, shrouded from all eyes,

Expect her coming, seize the trembling Prey,

And rifle all the Treasures of her Beauty:

Then if the Prince feasts on her Sweets to Morrow,

He shall have but the leavings of my Riot.

Rod.

Th' attempt is full of hazard; but to make

Our after-game more safe, take my Advice,

As a sure means to free us from discovery.

Know you this Dagger?—

Gen.

—Yes, 'tis Agilmond's,

Remarkable and known to all the Court.

Rod.

As he went out he dropt it; in the Crowd

I stoop'd and took it up, but had no time

To give it him. Take it, and when your Sences

Are surfeited with Pleasure, drop this Weapon

Near to the Ravish'd Princess: this will be

Ten thousand Witnesses against the Prince,

To fix Suspicion of the Deed on him.

Gen.

'Tis well contriv'd, nor can it fail to hit:

His long profess'd Aversion to this Marriage,

Though late he faintly gave a forc'd Assent,

Will make it pass unquestion'd; and the Walks

That lead unto this Scene of killing Joy,

At such late hours are barr'd from all our Sex,

Except the King and Prince. 'Tis fit we hasten,

That while the Pass is open we may enter,

And lie conceal'd. Methinks I see already

Her dying Looks, her seeming faint Resistance,

And feel the mighty Transports of hot Love!

Let but Success on this blest Moment wait,

The rest of Life I freely leave to Fate.

Exeunt.

ACT III.

[Page]

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.

Enter Agilmond and Amalazontha.

Agil.

THe King is gone to Bed, the busie Courtiers

All scatter'd and dispers'd; but I in vain

Shou'd seek for rest, till first I know what past

In your late Conference with Eurione.

Amal.

I found her, Agilmond, (for I must yet

Give you that name) compos'd throughout of Sweetness;

And I ne'er wish'd more earnestly you were

What you pretend to be, than for her sake,

Who pants for you with all the modest warmth

Of Innocence and Love.—

Agil.

—Alas! I pity her.

Amal.

When first I told her I must blast her hopes,

Something that look'd like Anger seem'd to rise;

But as a Stranger, soon was banish'd thence,

And sunk to humble Sorrow.—

Agil.

—'Twas a sight

Wou'd have affected the most Savage heart,

To see such mourning Virtue.—

Amal.

—First, she thought,

Or seem'd to think, that her small Stock of Merit

Bred my dislike of the intended Marriage;

But undeceiv'd in that, her jealous thoughts

Suggested to her straight, that all your love

Was on Valdaura fix'd, her haughty Sister.

Agil.

And did not that opinion shock her temper?

For sure she has a Soul above her Sex,

If yet unmov'd by such Assaults as these.

Amal.

Still the same meekness, still the same composure.

I told her then that she was yet mistaken;

And just as I was going to impart

The mighty Secret of your Sex, the King

Attended by your self and all the Court,

Enter'd the Room, and hinder'd the Discovery.

Agil.

'Twas most unlucky. When I parted from you,

As you advis'd me, I found out the King,

Humbly implor'd his Pardon, and assur'd him

I was in all things ready to obey him:

He press'd me close, commanded all to follow,

And led us streight to you, and to Eurione.

[Page]Amal.

Late as it is, 'tis fit you see Eurione;

Disclose your Secret to her, and instead

Of those returns of Passion which she looks for,

And which you cannot pay, offer such Love

As tender Sisters to each other bear:

Tell her, the glorious Title of a Queen,

And all the dazling Pomp of Royalty

Are hers, if she complies.—

Agil.

—Madam, I go.

This clear calm Night will tempt the Princess forth

To her lov'd Solitude; there I'll surprise her,

And to her private ear disclose my Secret,

Soft Rest attend your Majesty.

Leads her to the Door, and Exeunt severally.

SCENE a Night-Piece of a Garden.

Enter Genselaric disguis'd, coming as out of an Arbour, and peeping about.

I wonder that the Princess comes not yet;

'Tis past her usual hour; and shou'd she fail,

How miserably wretched should I be!

Fool that I was! like an unthrifty Gamester,

To venture all my stock of Happiness

On one uncertain chance! Hist, Rodoric,

Enter Rodoric and Almeric disguised.

And Almeric! discern you nothing yet?

Rod.

Nothing. You need not whisper so; there's not

A living Creature within hearing of you

Besides our selves.—

Alm.

—The Court is gone to rest.

The Windows all are darken'd, except one

That's in the Lodgings of the Gothish Queen;

And see, a light darts through the Gallery,

And seems to move this way.——

Gen.

—It is the Princess;

She's now undress'd, and comes to take her walk.

By Heav'ns, I see her yonder; quick, retire,

And when she comes seize the attending Maid,

And stop her clamorous Throat; leave me alone

To grapple with the Princess. Oh! ye Gods!

How my full Veins swell, and my boiling Blood

Bubbles and foams, as it would break its Channels!

Sure my hot Flames will thaw her Ice, and melt

Her frozen Heart; whilst rowling in her Snow,

I cool the raging burnings of my Feaver.

Exeunt as into the Arbour.

[Page]Enter Eurione and Merinda.

Eur.

Methinks I have no mind to walk to night,

And yet an unseen Pow'r conducts me on:

I stumbl'd at my entrance, and upon

My heavy Heart hangs a dead Weight of Sorrow.

Mer.

Pardon me, Madam, if I blame this Sadness,

When Fortune seems to court you with fresh Honours,

And all your eager hopes are almost Crown'd.

Eur.

Alas! my dear Merinda, Fortune's smiles

Are falser than the Tears of wicked Women:

And though she seems to promise fairly to me,

Yet my too truly boding Heart assures me

That I shall ne'er be happy. Fetch my Lute

To yonder Arbour, there I'll sit a while,

And try if Musick can compose my mind,

In which I nothing now but Discords find.

Exit Merinda.

Not all the Royal Favours of the King,

Nor Agilmond's compliance with his Will,

Can bring me Comfort equal to those Fears

Which the Queen's doubtful words inspire me with.

Yet why should I despair? perhaps the Queen

But dally'd with me; and that Scene of Sorrow

Was drawn, to make my coming Joys look greater.

I'll trust my Fate: the Gods can never prove

Averse to Chast Desires, and Virtuous Love.

Exit as into the Arbour.

Enter Agilmond.

The solitude and silence of this Place,

Join'd with the native Horror of the Night,

Have fill'd my trembling Heart with doubts and terrours.

Alas! how ill such Fears become this habit!

Ha!

Shrieks within.

What dismal shriek was that? or was't my Fancy?

'Tis there again! I dare not venture farther:

Shrieks again.

Yet more! defend me, Gods! and guard me forth

From this most dismal place in Peace and Safety.

Exit Agilmond.

Enter Merinda with a Lute.

'Twas sure the Prince I met, he seem'd in haste

And discompos'd; this was the cause I find

Of sending me to fetch her Instrument,

That she might meet the Prince with greater liberty.

[Page]'Twas well I came no sooner; now he's gone,

I'll see if yet her mind be out of Tune.

Exit as into the Arbour.

The Scene draws, and discovers Eurione in an Arbour, gagg'd and bound to a Tree, her hair dishevel'd as newly Ravish'd, a Dagger lying by her.

Enter Merinda with a Lute

Mer.

Madam, I've brought the Lute—Defend me, Heav'n!

What means this dismal Vision! O, my Princess!

What barb'rous Villain, black as Hell could make him!

Durst bind those lovely Arms?

Ʋnbinding her.

O tell me, Madam,

What worse than Devil durst attempt yet farther,

For so the dismal Scene too well informs me?

Eurione falls down, Merinda a chafing her.

Enter Valdaura in a Night-Gown.

Val.

It could not be a Dream; the mournful Accents

Of some distressed Creature pierc'd my Ears,

Like shrieks of Ravish'd Virgins: and just now

Entring, I heard a Female Voice lamenting:

Who's that? Merinda weeping? Where's my Sister?

Eur.

Alas! here's she that was Eurione;

Now she is nothing but a loathsome Leprosie,

Which spread all o'er the Gothish Royal Blood,

Infects the Noble Race.—

Val.

—Alas, my Sister,

Kneeling by her.

What killing words are these?—

Eur.

—Stand off, Valdaura,

And come not near me; I am contagious sure,

And all chaste hands will blister that but touch me,

Were all the Gods that succour Innocence,

Deaf to my Cries, and blind to all my Wrongs?

That no relenting Power would send one Bolt

To strike me dead, and save my Ravish'd Honour?

Val.

Ha! Ravish'd said you? Ravish'd! name the Villain;

That my fierce Wrath, like an impetuous Torrent,

May overtake and hurry him to ruine,

Preventing the slow Vengeance of the Gods,

Tell me: but know you speak not to Valdaura,

But to the Prince Ambiomer, your Brother,

For such I am; and I will write my self

Such in my fell Revenge. Now, name the Villain;

He lives too long already, by this Minute

[Page]That he is yet unknown.—

Eur.

—Alas! I know him not.

Disguis'd he came, as if he hid his Face

From Night it self; seiz'd like a Bird of Prey

His trembling Quarry; gagg'd and bound me fast,

And then—Oh! let me die, and stifle so

Sees the Dagger.

The harsh remembrance!—Ha! what's this? a Dagger?

Blest be the Friendly Pow'rs that sent me this

To heal my Griefs for ever.

Going to stab her self.

Val.

—Hold, Eurione;

Wresting it from her.

The Gods design'd not this for your Destruction,

But to discover who the Villain is,

And mark him for my Vengeance.—Is it possible?

Looking on it.

By all our Wrongs, it is the Prince's Dagger.

Is he the Ravisher? Can so much Villany

Lurk under such a chast and modest semblance?

Mer.

My Lord, I met the Prince; he seem'd disorder'd,

And haste and fear were in his Gate and Eyes:

But though I found the Princess newly Ravish'd,

I could not think him guilty of the Fact,

Till this plain Evidence convinc'd me of it.

Eur.

Was this a sit return for chast desires,

And virtuous Love like mine?—

Val.

—Oh! the young Ravisher!

Here on my Knees I swear, upon this Dagger

(Which though a Villains, yet shall bind my Oath

As firmly as if Fate it self had Seal'd it)

My thoughts shall never know a Moment's peace,

Till I have drench'd this Weapon in the Blood

That warms his lustful Heart. Merinda, help,

Convey my Sister in; and at her Chamber

We'll lay the Method of our just Revenge.

Exeunt.

SCENE a Night-Piece of a Wood.

Enter Genselaric and Almeric.

Gen.

Still I'm in pain for Rodoric, and dread

The fatal Consequences of his stay.

Alm.

The Ladder's breaking, caus'd by too much haste,

Was (I confess) unlucky; but suppose

The worst, that he is taken; all the Tortures

Invented by ingenious Cruelty,

Will never from his stedfast Faith extort

The smallest word to prejudice his Friend.

Gen.

I neither doubt his Friendship, nor his Courage,

But oh! my Almeric, what mighty Transports

Am I indebted for to him and you!

[Page]Methought, in one short moment I possess'd

The crowded joys of a long life's delight;

As if some friendly Power by Chimic Art,

Had drawn the Spirit of an Age's pleasure,

Contracting all into that happy Minute

To make the Cordial rich.—

Alm.

—My Lord, your joys

Have made you wanton, but methinks 'tis strange

That Pleasure forc'd shou'd give such vast delight.

Gen.

I hate a tedious Siege, but love to Storm;

'Tis Soldier-like:

Whistling within.

But hark! I hear one whistle, answer him;

It must be Rodoric—And see he's here.

Enter Rodoric.

Welcome, my Friend, your fortunate escape

Quiets my mind, and makes my Joys sit easie.

Rod.

My Lord, your better Genius, I believe,

Contriv'd my stay; for by it I have made

Discov'ries of great weight.—

Gen.

—You are your self

My better Genius, and direct my Fortunes

With as successful care, and with a Pow'r

As absolute as his. But say, my Rodoric,

What's the important Novelty?—

Rod.

—My Lord,

When disappointed by the Ladder's breaking

Of coming off, I silently return'd

To my old private Covert, near the Scene

Of your late Joys, resolving there to wait,

Till Fortune should present me with a way

To leave it unobserv'd: Scarce was I settled,

When first I found Merinda was return'd,

And mourning o'er her Mistress: then, Valdaura

Alarmed by her Sister's shrieks, arriv'd

With hasty steps—

Gen.

—'Tis true, she strugled so,

I could not get the Gag into her Mouth

So soon as I design'd it.—

Rod.

—But, my Lord,

That which surpriz'd me most, as 'twill do you,

Was, that the haughty Princess in her Transport

Of furious Rage to find her Sister Ravish'd,

Own'd that she was the Prince Ambiomer,

And Son, not Daughter, to the Gothish Queen;

Her Sex (no doubt, for politick designs)

Thus long conceal'd.—

Gen.

—'Tis most amazing News:

And yet ('tis true) I often have observ'd,

[Page]And wonder'd at the Manly Air and Mein,

The haughty Carriage and resolv'd Assurance,

Of the suppos'd Valdaura. This is he

Whom Briomer and all the Gothish Faction

Design'd their head: This Secret must be manag'd

With caution and discretion. But say, Rodoric,

What of the Prince's Dagger? was that found,

Or lay it there neglected?—

Rod.

—All your Stars

Have been at work for you to Night. The Princess

Found it by chance, and with a sudden fury

Had plung'd it in her Breast, but that her Brother

Seiz'd and prevented her. Soon as he view'd it,

He knew its owner; and whilst that was breeding

Suspition of his Guilt; Merinda told them,

She met the Prince but just before, returning

With fear and great disorder from the Garden.

Gen.

'Twas wondrous lucky. But what brought him thither

At that late hour?—

Rod.

—His ill, and your good Fate.

Alm.

This sure with t'other Circumstance confirm'd them

He did the Fact.—

Rod.

—It put it past all doubt.

The Prince rav'd high, and made them all retire

With dreadful Imprecations of Revenge

Upon the lustful Agilmond, for such

His Errour stil'd him: Soon as they were gone,

Finding all still and hush'd, I ventur'd forth,

Mended my broken Ladder, and escap'd

Unseen by any.—

Gen.

—Asl this Night's Adventure

Has met with such Success, that it could scarce

Have happen'd better, had the Prince contriv'd

To be his own Betrayer. But the day

Begins to break; 'tis fit we all disperse,

And gain our several Lodgings. Worthy Friends,

Command whate'er is mine; 'tis all too little

For the vast Service of this happy Night.

Exeunt severally.

[Page]

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.

Eurione is discover'd lying on a Couch, her hair dishevel'd (as before) Merinda weeping by her.

SONG to a Lute and Flu [...]t.

I.

BEneath a gloomy Cypress Grove,

Within a dismal unfrequented Cave,

Sad, as the Mansions of despairing Love,

And dark and silent as the Grave,

The Ravish'd Philomela weeping lies,

Chief Mourner at her Honours Obsequies.

II.

A living Herse she's stretch'd along,

Grief does her active Faculties benumb;

Had not the Lustful Slave torn out her Tongue,

Her mighty Wrongs had struck her dumb:

Yet thus her silent Wishes mount the Skie,

"Give me Revenge, ye Powers, or let me die.

Musick to me! alas! 'tis lost upon me

As soon it might divert a dying Wretch

That's stretch'd upon the Engine of his Torture.

Enter to her Rhadegonda, Valdaura, Briomer, Albimer, and other Goths.

Rhad.

Behold, my Lords, the Ruines of your Princess!

See there the destin'd Bride of Agilmond,

Rifl'd of all her Sweets by his hot Lust

That should this day have wedded her. The stain,

Though chiefly ours, will yet reflect on you,

And brand the Gothish Nation with disgrace,

Unless you vindicate her suffering Honour,

By taking sharp Revenge. If ye are Slaves,

And would be so, bow down your servile Necks,

To cruel Gunderic and his lustful Son,

And bring your Virgin Daughters to be Ravish'd

By his voluptuous Race, as mine has been.

But if you bravely wish, as sure you do,

To break your Chains, and right your injur'd Queen,

[Page]Behold this Prince, his slaughter'd Father's Image,

No longer now Valdaura, but Ambiomer,

Constrain'd these Sixteen Years to shroud his Sex,

And in a Female habit shun the Rage

Of cruel Gunderic that doom'd to Death

The Royal Gothish Males. He stands prepar'd

To lead you on to Honour and Renown,

To Liberty, and what's yet more, Revenge.

Brio.

Curs'd be that Coward, that denies to follow

Where such a Prince does lead: and doubly curs'd

Be he that shall refuse to take Revenge

For so much injur'd Virtue! Royal Master,

Kneeling.

Permit your faithful Subject thus to tender

His vow'd Allegiance; and may young Ambiomer

In all resemble his renowned Father,

But his untimely Fate.—

Alb. & Goths.

—We jointly wish,

And vow the same.—

Val.

—My Lords, I thank you all;

And shall endeavour by my future Actions

To fix your Love and Service, but must blush

To see the tenders of your Duty paid

To this effeminate outside. Now 'tis fit

We should consult about the means and method

Of a secure Revenge. That Agilmond

Committed this foul Fact, the Prooss are pregnant;

His Dagger dropp'd, Merinda meeting him

In haste and discomposure.—

Brio.

—'Tis most strange,

That he who was design'd this day to wed her,

Should be the guilty Ravisher.—

Val.

—Perhaps

He look'd upon her as his Father's Slave,

And scorn'd to wed so low; but he might safer

Have hugg'd a pois'nous Serpent in his Bosom,

Than such a thought as that. Perhaps he meant

By this last desp'rate Remedy to avoid

A Match he always shunn'd. 'Tis out of question

He did the Fact; and our short time calls on us,

Not to dispute, but act: first let us seize him,

And when that's done, if he has ought to urge,

He shall have quiet hearing.—

Rhad.

—Sure his Guilt

Will keep him on his Cuard, and make his Seizure

Almost impossible.—

Brio.

—Leave that to me:

The General, his Cousin's firmly ours;

[Page]And he by some Device shall train him out.

Besides to cloak his Guilt, he will not fail

To make his Visits early. This strong Cittadel,

Where, Madam, you have kept your Royal Court,

Is under my Command, and firmly Guarded

By chosen faithful Goths. Here Albimer

Shall, whilst you shift your Habit, and appear

Like what the Gods design'd you, guard your Majesty.

Let me find out Genselaric: I'll pawn

My Life, nay more, my Honour, that I'll bring

The Prince within two hours to your disposal.

Val.

We'll trust your management, but be sure you fail not;

For if you do, though next my Royal Mother

I hold you dear, by Heav'ns I'll take the Forfeiture.

Exeunt one way, Briomer the other way.

SCENE The Palace-Garden.

Enter Agilmond.

My last Night's Fears unhappily prevented

My meeting with Eurione;

'Tis fit she know the mighty Secret soon;

For since the great Affair with which I labour,

Has in suspence hung doubtful, Sleep has been

A Stranger to my Eyes, and from my Breast

All quiet has been banish'd.—

Enter Briomer.

Brio.

—Sure the General

Has some important business, that detains him

Abroad so long! he has all night been absent,

Nor know I where to seek him.—Ha! the Prince!

Can so much Villany be shrouded under

So sweet an outside? sure it cannot be;

He is abus'd; but that he may be clear'd,

He must endure a Tryal first.—My Lord,

I come, led by my Duty and Respect,

To wait your Highness to the Queen and Princess.

Agil.

I was just going to the Cittadel,

Designing to surprize them. Lead me to them.

Brio.

By all my Honours, he is innocent:

He could not else with such an even Brow

Treat of a Subject, which, had he been guilty,

Aside.

Had stung his Conscious Heart.—

Agil.

—Conduct me, Briomer;

I long to see the Princess. Grant, good Heaven,

That fair Eurione with pitying ears

May hear my fatal Story; and may all

[Page]Those Pow'rs that of the Innocent take care,

Dispose her to be good, as she is fair.

Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE, the Cittadel.

Enter Ambiomer in his own Habit, Albimer, Gothish Lords, &c.

Amb.

COuld my sad Soul be sensible of Comfort

Whilst wrong'd Eurione is unreveng'd;

This day, the whitest day of all my life,

Had brought me wondrous joy; in which I first

Appear to be what Nature made me, Man,

And what my Birth design'd me for, your King.

Albi.

To make that joy sincere and undisturb'd

(In which, as in your Griefs, permit your Subjects

To bear a share) let generous anger chase

All melancholly thoughts, and fix your eyes

On the near prospect of a brave Revenge.

Amb.

My Lord, you counsel well; let Women grieve,

Unable to take Vengeance; but for us,

We'll make us Cordials of our great Revenge,

To chear our sinking Spirits. Briomer

Is wondrous slow; the time is almost laps'd,

And he not yet return'd.—

Albi.

—My Royal Lord,

Doubt not his Zeal; the great design he manages

Will, if th' attempt succeed, make large amends

For such a small delay.—

Amb.

—I am to blame

To censure him of slowness: 'tis not that,

'Tis the fierce motion of my eager wishes,

That leaves the swiftest diligence behind,

Unable to keep pace.—

Enter a Goth.

Goth.

—My Lord, the Prince

And Briomer are enter'd.——

Amb.

—For thy News

Take this: Draw up the Bridge, and on your lives

Let no Man have admittance. O, ye Gods,

I see that ye are just; and I your Substitute,

Will execute your Justice to the full

On this young Ravisher.—

He sits, the rest stand bare about him.

Agil.

—Whither, my Lord,

Enter Agil. and Brio.

[Page]Have you conducted me? I came to seek

The Queen and Princess, and you have led me

To faces that I know not.—

Amb.

—Seize the Villain,

They seize and disarm him.

The lustful Ravisher.—

Agil.

—Ha! what means this language?

And what this usage? Lustful Ravisher!

And Villain! do these execrable Names

Belong to me? How am I chang'd o'th' sudden,

And grown a Monster?—

Amb.

—Yes, a fouler Monster

Than ever Africk bred.—

Agil.

—And what are you,

That dare so near my Royal Father's Palace

Thus use the Heir of mighty Gunderic?—

Amb.

—I am

The Vandal Scourge, reserv'd by Fate punish

Your bloody Father, and his lustful Issue:

You knew Valdaura once, now know Ambiomer,

For both are one; the sole surviving Son

Of Rhadagaise King of the Goths, and Brother

To wrong'd Eurione, or what's my Noblest Title,

Avenger of her Wrongs.—

Agil.

—This strange discovery

May well create my wonder, not my fear:

I cannot think, you will be so unjust,

To execute Revenge for Wrongs receiv'd

Upon my Innocence.—

Amb.

—A Ravisher!

And yet plead Innocence!—

Agil.

—Again that Name?

Instruct me by what dire mistake you brand me

With such a hated Title.—

Amb.

—See the Hypocrite:

With what a seeming Ignorance he sounds

My knowledge of his Guilt! Away with him,

I cannot bear his Presence. Albimer,

Be sure you guard him well: convey him straight

To the sad Queen, and to the Ravish'd Princess;

Perhaps the sight of such a dreadful Ruin

As his hot Lust has made, may wake his Conscience,

And draw a free Confession.—

Agil.

—Ha! what said he?

The Princess Ravish'd! Could the Gods look on,

And unconcern'd see so much Goodness suffer?

Nay, then I wonder not that they can see

My feebler Virtue wrong'd.—

He is led off by Albimer guarded.

[Page]Amb.

—But that the Proofs

Which make his Guilt apparent, are too strong

To leave a place for doubt, I should my self

Be shock'd to see his carriage: But he knows

His life's at stake, and therefore 'tis not strange

He acts his part so well.—

Brio.

—My Royal Master,

Thus low I beg you would compose your thoughts,

And hear your Servant speak.—

Amb.

—Speak on, my Lord,

My mind is calm, and I prepar'd to hear you.

Brio.

Let me not meet your Anger, when I tell you,

I judge the Prince is innocent: Restrain

Your Passion, Royal Sir, and hear my Reasons.

The course of all his former life, renown'd

For Modesty and Virtue; his late coming

Unforc'd, unsent for; his surprise and wonder

To hear that she was Ravish'd; all these join'd,

Perswade me to conclude that he's not guilty

Of this most horrid Fact.—

Amb.

—I must confess

They carry wondrous weight: but sure those Proofs

Which fix the Guilt upon him, have no less.

But yet, my Lord, such is my Zeal for Justice,

I'll weigh things nicely, e'er I pass a Sentence

That cannot be recall'd; for as I wish

To take just Vengeance for my Sister's Wrongs;

So Heav'n forbid that Innocence should suffer

By my mistaken Rage.—

Brio.

—Now Blessings on you,

Such was your Father's temper. Give me leave

Humbly to offer something of Advice,

To try the Prince's Guilt; propose to him

This fatal choice, to marry her or die:

If he be guilty, since he knows his life

Is in your free disposal, he will yield

To ransom that by wedding her; if not,

His Royal Blood will prompt him to endure

Ten thousand Deaths, rather than marry one

That's Ravish'd by another: make this Tryal,

And as you find him Innocent or Guilty,

Absolve, or else Condemn him: for my self,

My jealous doubts bend all another way,

But they are yet too young; when they grow riper,

I beg that to your Royal Ear I may

Impart my knowledge of them.—

Agil.

—With full freedom.

[Page]'Tis fit, in the mean time, we all prepare

To meet the rage of cruel Gunderic.

My Lord, how is this Cittadel provided.

Brio.

So well, that it will mock the vain attempts

Of all the Tyrant's Forces, till our Levies

Are gather'd to an head, and strong enough

For us to take the Field. For underhand

We have been working long, and Warlike Vinderic

Will not be slow to join us.

Amb.

—I dare rely

On your known Faith, and long Experience.

Now, Gunderic, sit fast, or I will join

Thy Crown to that which thou Usurp'st of mine.

Exeunt.

SCENE the Anti-Chamber.

A Consort of Martial Musick is heard for some time. Then Enter Gunderic, Amalazontha, Genselaric, Ferrismond, Rodoric, Almeric, Guards and Attendants.

Gund.

This day the Goths to my Victorious Sword

Gave up their long kept Freedom; and this day

Shall give them back the Liberty they lost;

Whilst all distinctions shall be blotted out

Of Victor and of Vanquish'd; Agilmond

Our pledge of Love, and theirs, Eurione,

Shall bind the Faith of Nations, and unite

Millions of Souls in Bonds of Love and Friendship.

Methinks I see their Valiant Offspring Reign

O'er half the Conquer'd Universe! whilst from

Their Mother's Line they Courage draw, from his

Both Courage and Success.—

Gen.

—He little thinks

How vain and barren all these hopes must prove.

Aside.

Gund.

Where is the Prince, the Gothish Queen and Princesses?

Methinks e'er now their Presence should have grac'd

The destin'd Triumph of this happy Day.

Amal.

The Prince long since, as eager Bridegrooms use,

Went with Lord Briomer to the Cittadel,

To attend his lovely Bride.

Gund.

'Tis well: whilst we expect them, let us try

To make the lazie Minutes pass more pleasantly

A Dance to Hoboys, Kittle-Drums, and Trumpets. After the Entertainment, enter a Vandal.

Vand.

Forgive me, Royal Sir, if I declare

Such News as will astonish and enrage you

Beyond what you have ever heard.—

Gund.

—What means

[Page]This most amazing Preface to your Story?

Vand.

Dread Sir, I should not dare to utter it,

But that it can no longer be conceal'd.

Gund.

Think'st thou my Virtue is so much declin'd,

I cannot stand the Shock of any Tidings

Which thou hast heart to bear?—

Vand.

—My Royal Master,

Prince Agilmond—

Gund.

—What is he dead?—

Vand.

—Not so,

But you will be as much surpriz'd with wonder,

To hear that he is Seiz'd, Confin'd, and Guarded

Within the Cittadel.—

Gund.

—The Prince Confin'd,

And Seiz'd! Remove the Madman from me.

Vand.

Would I were mad, or any thing, or nothing,

So this were not a truth.—

Gund.

—One wish thou hast,

For mad thou art—A Guard upon the Prince!

Within the Cittadel! I'th' heart of all my Strength!

Vand.

When you shall know by whom he is imprison'd—

Gund.

Imprison'd! in the middle of my Guards!

By whom? There is no Mortal dares attempt

What thou relat'st. But speak what thou art full of;

I am content a while to hear thee rave.

By whom?—

Vand.

—By young Ambiomer.—

Gund.

—Madder still!

What Phantome is this young Ambiomer!

Vand.

He is the Gothish Prince.—

Gund.

—Furies and Hell!

How dar'st thou trifle thus with me?—

Amal.

—What Prince?

Vand.

Th' Heir Male to the late Gothish King.—

Gund.

—Traitor,

I'll nail thee to the Earth—

Amal.

—Hold, Royal Sir.

Vand.

I wish my Death might cause that Peace within

Your Royal Breast, which I must banish thence.

Gund.

A Gothish Prince! whence dropt he? from the Clouds?

Or is the Mushroom sprung up in a night?

Vand.

The late suppos'd Valdaura is declar'd

Ambiomer, th' Heir Male to Rhadagaise.

Gund.

What wondrous transformation dost thou talk of?

Valdaura turn'd into Ambiomer!

Amal.

A most surprizing Secret! as important

As that I've kept so long.—

Aside,

Gund.

—But that I know

[Page]Thou ever hast been held discreet and honest,

Thy Life had been a forfeit to my Rage.

Vand.

And let it still be so if what I say

Prove in one tittle false.—

The King muses.

Gen.

—Now Briomer's

To Rod. and Alm.

Great Secret is disclos'd, the next is mine;

But though he finds the Gothish Prince, he ne'er

Shall find the Ravisher.—

Rod.

—He sooner shall

Reach up to Heav'n.—

Alm.

—Or fathom Hell.—

Gund.

—Indeed,

Valdaura still appear'd too rough and haughty

For that soft Sex; her Spirit seem'd to threaten

Something above a Woman's heart.—

Amal.

—'Tis true.

How often has my watchful Genius

Aside.

Prompted my Soul, to what my foolish Mercy

Rejected then as cruel: Had I follow'd

That faithful Councellour, she long ago

Had perish'd as Valdaura, and not liv'd

To act Ambiomer.—

—Well suppose this were

To them.

The Gothish Heir; why should they chuse this time

To broach the mighty Secret? By this Match

Their Party ev'ry day and hour had gain'd

New Strength and Vigour; and their doubtful Game

Might have been play'd with greater hopes of winning.

Vand.

The cause of such a quick discovery

Is yet behind, and 'tis a dismal part

Of my too dreadful Story. Fair Eurione,

Destin'd this day for Agilmond, last night

Was in her private walk surpriz'd, and rifl'd

Of all her Virgin Treasure.—

Gund.

—Ha! what Ravish'd!

Vand.

It is too true.—

Gund.

—Oh horrid Villany!

What Hellish Furies have been busie here

To fill Mankind with Rage beyond their own?

Amal.

Ah, sweet Eurione! my Heart weeps Tears

Of Blood for thee.—

Gund.

Just Gods, could ye behold

So vile a Crime, and keep your Thunder in?

But your Vicegerent shall perform the part

You have reserv'd for him. By you I swear,

Let me but know the Fiend, and he shall live

Whole years in Torment, roaring out for Death.

[Page]But what's all this to Agilmond's Confinement?

Vand.

There are so many pregnant Circumstances,

To fix the Guilt of this upon the Prince,

As caus'd his Seizure; and the sudden Publishing

Of what their Prudence longer had conceal'd,

But for this sad Conjuncture.—

Amal.

—How! the Prince!

Believe him not; 'tis all Imposture, Sir.

My Son! my Agilmond! It is impossible:

She was to be his Bride.—

Gund.

—'Tis true, she was;

Nor could he have so furious a Passion,

Where he had shewn so much aversion still,

That I with greatest difficulty wrought him

To a consent of Marriage.—

Amal.

—You have reason.

Vand.

The Gods can witness what I say is true.

Gund.

Perhaps he scorn'd to make a Captive Princess

The Partner of his Bed; yet he's not proud.

Perhaps his hatred to her made him find

This only way to break the Marriage off.

Amal.

Can you suspect such wicked Subtlety

Shou'd dwell with so much Youth and Innocence.

Gund.

My thoughts are in a mist, I am confounded;

'Tis time must clear up all. But for the new

Ambiomer, and his Confederate Rebels,

My swiftest Vengeance shall o'ertake their fault.

Shall Gunderic endure to be out-brav'd

By a smooth Boy that scarce knows how to act

The Manly part his fear so long conceal'd?

Then let my numerous Conquests be forgotten,

And my vast Fame shrink to the basest Titles

Of Slave and Coward. Let us face the Traitors;

We'll not allow them time to hatch new Treasons,

But crush them in the Shell Genselaric,

Get my old Troops together: Ferrismond,

Draw out the Guards: you Rodoric and Almeric,

Go raise the City-Bands, and lead them hither.

By Heav'n! I'll see if this Ambiomer

Have ought that's worthy of his Valiant Father.

Make haste, my Lords, we'll gain the Cittadel

E're night, or bury it and them in Ruins.

Exeunt.

[Page]

SCENE the Cittadel.

Enter Ambiomer, Rhadegonda, Briomer, Albimer, Gothish Lords, &c.

Amb.

Though all our present hopes seem small and cramp'd

Within these narrow Walls, yet know, my Lords,

The mightiest Empires had the same beginning:

Imperial Rome her self in one poor Hamlet

Took her first rise, and from that single spot

O'er-ran the Conquer'd World.—

Brio.

—If Hearts as good,

And a much better Cause than theirs, can promise

Equal Success; we need not doubt but Fate

Will give to our just Arms as ample Progress.

Rhad.

The Valiant Vinderic, who for thirty years

Successfully did fight your Father's Battles,

Though silver'd o'er with Age. yet tempts again

War's doubtful hazard: and to assist your Cause,

Before to Morrow's Sun has touch'd the West,

Will at the head of thirty thousand Goths

Come to receive your Orders.—

Amb.

—His Arrival

Will make us strong enough to quit this Fortress

And take the Field. Gods! how I long to meet

The haughty Vandal! and with equal Arms

Retrieve th' immortal Honour of our Name,

Lost by my slaughter'd Father! Albimer,

How fares the Captive Prince! does the young Lion

Struggle, and bite his Chain?—

Alb.

—My Lord, he bears it

With as much calmness, as the Soul endures

The Prison of the Body: he expresses

Some Sorrow, but no Anger.—

Amb.

—When you carry'd him

To see the Ravish'd Princess, could he brook

The sight of her unmov'd?—

Rhad.

—Let me resolve you,

For I was present then. Soon as he enter'd

And view'd her in her solemn Pomp of Grief,

He melted into tears; but when he heard us

Reproach him as the Author of her Ruine,

Unable to reply, he deeply sigh'd,

And fainted in the Arms of Albimer:

When, by his care reviv'd, he round him cast

A wild, disorder'd look, then fix'd his eyes

[Page]Upon Eurione, and softly told her,

He never had the Will, and had he that,

He wanted Pow'r to wrong her; there he stop'd,

And struggled with himself, as if he labour'd

With something sit for us to know, and yet

Unfit for him to tell.—

Amb.

—His inward guilt

Then stuck him to the quick, and prompted him

To make a free Discovery; but the danger

Which threaten'd that proceeding, stifled it,

And kept him silent still.—

Rhad.

—If he be guilty,

(As I can neither yet condemn nor quit him)

Never did any Guilt wear such a Mask

Of well-dissembled Innocence.—

Enter a Goth.

Goth.

—My Lord,

The Captain of the Guards, sent by the King,

Desires admittance.—

Amb.

—Let him have it. Briomer,

Conduct him in: Now, Madam, we shall hear

How Gunderic resents our bold Attempt:

I know it grates his haughty Soul, to find

A Rival Prince, that dares affront and brave him

Just at his Palace Gates.—

Enter Ferrismond and Briomer.

Fer.

—My Royal Master,

Not knowing yet which 'tis more fit to call

The new-found Prince, Valdaura or Ambiomer,

Commands me, Madam, to demand of you,

To Rhad.

Why on this solemn day, design'd to make

You and your Nation happy, you attempt

To frustrate and abuse his good intentions;

To seize the Sacred Person of his Son;

Shut up his Royal Cittadel; disturb

The common Peace; and with rebellious Arms

Provoke the Indignation of a Prince,

Who sixteen years has nourish'd you and yours

With tenderness and love?—

Amb.

—Yes as a Guardian,

That flaunts and revels with his Ward's Estate,

But keeps him bare and scanty. Royal Madam,

Permit me, if you please, to give an Answer

To this so lofty Message. Tell your Master,

My slaughter'd Father, and my ravish'd Sister,

Call both for just Revenge; the one on him,

The other on his Son: My Royal Birth,

And Rhadagaise's Great Example, prompt me

Rather to dye a King, than live a Slave:

[Page]This Fatal Day, which blushes to set off

The yearly Pride of Gunderic, calls on me

To rescue it from such a shameful Office,

And make it shine again in Gothish Annals,

Stamp'd with the glorious Mark of Regain'd Liberty.

Fer.

For fair Eurione's lamented Fate,

My King vies Sorrow with you; and engages

His Royal Word, to punish that Offence,

Where-ever prov'd, tho' on the Prince himself;

With utmost rigour; this his love to Justice,

And pity of her injur'd Innocence,

Oblige him to perform. —For you, my Lord,

And those whom your Example or Perswasions

Have in your Guilt involv'd, thus he ordains,

Give up the Cittadel, and jointly try

With humble Duty to appease his Anger,

And he'll impute this rash and heedless Action

To Heat of Youth, and to the sudden Passion

Caus'd by your Sister's Wrongs. If you refuse,

He comes prepar'd to force you to Obedience,

And crush you with his Vengeance.—

Amb.

—Sure he thinks

I am Valdaura still; and that my Soul

Is of the Female Stamp; he would not else

Propose such servile Terms, as feeble Women

Would almost blush to stoop to. Let him not

Despise me, that some years my Manly Limbs

Were clad in Female Weeds; so was Achilles,

And from less glorious Motives. Tell your Master,

Ambiomer will ne're submit the Cause

Of his wrong'd Sister to such partial Justice,

But will himself Examine and Revenge it:

Say, I was born a King, and scorn to dye

With any meaner Title: For his Threats

I heed them as I ought; when e'er he dares

Attempt our Strength, we dare oppose his Fury,

And with Superiour Force and Valour break

His weak Efforts. Return this Answer to him.

Fer.

Since you refuse to taste his Royal Clemency,

Prepare to meet his Vengeance.—

Ex. Ferrism. and Briom.

Amb.

—Wait him forth.

My Lords, we must expect to be assail'd,

And speedily; the Rage of Gunderic

Will, like a sudden Whirl-wind, drive him hither:

Prepare to give the rugged Visitant

Such Entertainment as his Visit merits.

Exeunt.

[Page]

SCENE a Chamber in the Cittadel.

Enter Agilmond.

Agil.

Death, which at distance seems so terrible,

View'd nearer looks less dreadful; and to me

Has in it more to be desir'd than fear'd:

But to be Executed as a Ravisher,

Is something worse than death, 'tis death of Fame:

Yet even that Fate carries this Comfort with it,

The fatal Secret of my Sex dies with me,

And leaves the Queen in safety. Tho' I cannot

Be so unjust to my own Innocence,

To own so black a Guilt; yet since my death

Secures my Royal Mother, I'll suppress

The certain Means to clear me, and submit

To what the Gods and Fate have order'd for me.

Enter Ambiomer.

Amb.

See! there he stands, calm and compos'd; nor does

One line in all that lovely Face, denote him

Lustful or Ravisher: When-e're I see him,

Something within me strongly pleads, and tells me

He must be innocent. If he be guilty,

The Gods themselves are faulty too, in giving him

So foul a Heart, and such a Face to hide it.

I must not let him know how much my thoughts

Are chang'd in favour of him. Solitude

To him.

And close Retirement often hold the Glass

To guilty Minds, and make them see their Faults

In their true ugly Colours; have they had

The same effect on you?—

Agil.

—A guilty Solitude

May have Effects like these; but Innocence

Is always best, when suffer'd to enjoy

The prospect of it self.—

Amb.

—Then you still stand

Upon your first Defence?—

Agil.

—I cannot alter:

Falsehood is almost infinite, but Truth

Is still the same.—

Amb.

—So very willingly

I would believe him, that I scarce can urge

Aside.

A Reason to disprove him. What occasion

To him.

Led you so late into the Palace Walks,

[Page]And brought you back so hastily?—

Agil.

—Desire

To meet the lovely Princess led me thither;

And, tho I blush to own it, 'twas my Fear

That brought me back so soon.—

Amb.

—Your Fear! of what?

Agil.

I thought, as I advanc'd, I heard some shrieks,

Which robb'd the Night of all its former stillness,

And gave it greater horrour: Much amaz'd,

I durst not venture on, but soon return'd

Without one Moment's stay.—

Amb.

—This free account

Aside▪

Looks so like Truth, I cannot disbelieve it.

This is your Dagger, yesternight you drop'd it;

To him.

Can you remember where?—

Agil.

—Nor where, nor when:

Only thus much I know, I mist it first

When from your Royal Mother I retir'd

With Gunderic.—

Amb.

—Now on a Prince's Word,

Which ought to be as sacred as the Oaths

Of Vulgar Souls, answer me truly; did you

Then miss your Dagger when you say, nor had it

In your possession since?—

Agil.

—By all my Hopes

Of Happiness, I never view'd it since,

Till you produc'd it now.—

Amb.

—My Lord, your words

Have stagger'd my Belief, and make me doubt

I have been led by false Appearances:

But till I'm more resolv'd, I must detain you

A Prisoner still: If you are Innocent,

That Knowledge will compose and calm your thoughts▪

What pity 'tis, ye Gods, we seldom find

A just Resemblance of the Face and Mind!

Could we but read the Hearts of Men, like you,

What God-like Justice might we Monarchs do!

Exeunt severally.

ACT V.

[Page]

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.

Enter Gunderic and Amalazontha.

Gund.

THat Love by which you urge me to a grant,

Denies your strange request; Why should you tempt

Unnecessary hazards? your soft Sex,

In safety plac'd, should leave to us the dangers

And drudgery of War.—

Amal.

—There is no danger:

Or were it ne'er so great, I ought to share it

As well as your Success; besides, my Agilmond

Is now at stake; and every doubtful minute,

By leaving me uncertain of his Fate,

Will give me many Deaths.—

Gund.

—You shall o'ercome:

But lest some fatal Dart should rob me of you,

I'll once more offer Mercy, and my self

In Person treat with them.—

Enter Ferrismond.

Fer.

—My Lord, your Forces

Are all drawn up, and wait for your Commands.

Gund.

Let them advance, and tell them, Ferrismond,

My Queen and I will head them. This rash Boy

Exit Ferrismond.

Has by this vain Attempt giv'n me fair warning

To make sure work; and I with little pains

May quash this young Rebellion.—

Enter a Vandal.

Vandal.

—Pardon, Sir,

The luckless Bearer of unwelcome news:

Old Vinderic, the Gothish General,

Is at the head of thirty thousand Rebels

Advancing hither.—

Gund.

—Then we shall have work

More tough than I expected. How near are they?

Vandal.

Last Night they quarter'd seven Leagues off, to Morrow

Expect to see them here.—

Gund.

—I'm satisfi'd;

We shall have time enough to finish here

Before they can arrive. O Agilmond,

Thy Guilt, if prov'd, will more distract my Soul,

Than the united Force of all my Enemies.

Exeunt.

[Page]

SCENE, the Cittadel.

Enter Ambiomer, Briomer, Albimer, Gothish Lords, &c.

Amb.

Though long Experience join'd with daring Valour,

Are met in Gunderic, to make up an Enemy

Too great to be despis'd; yet your known Courage,

And our just Cause do give me full Assurance

Of wish'd Success: I feel an inward joy,

Which tells me this important Day will crown

Our forward hopes with vast Advantages.

Brio.

May all those hopes prove true! or only fail

In promising less than your Fate performs!

Amb.

My Lord, I thank you: Gunderic, I hear,

Whose fiery temper hates the dull delay

Of formally Besieging, has resolv'd

To carry us by Storm; we must prepare

To give him a sharp welcome. Hark! his Drums!

He's advancing towards us; let us all

Attend our several Charges. Come, my Lords,

Now let us shew the ancient Gothish Courage,

Which made the Romans tremble.

Exeunt.

SCENE A large Space before the Cittadel. Drums beat a March.

Enter Gunderic, Amalazontha, Genselaric, Ferrismond, Rodoric, Almeric, &c.

Gund.

Though with our Arms in Hand 'tis much below us

To treat with Rebels, yet since you, my Queen

May be expos'd to some unlucky Arrow,

We'll condescend to parly. Let our Drums

Declare our pleasure to them.—

Drums beat a Parly, then Ambiomer, Briomer, &c. appear on the Walls.

—Which is he

You call Ambiomer, the new-found Prince?

Amb.

I am Ambiomer, King of the Goths,

And rightful Owner of those large Dominions

Possess'd by Rhadagaise, my Royal Father.

Gund.

To me he lost them; by this Arm he fell,

And with him fell his Kingdom.—

Amb.

—You then claim

By right of Conquest only; and if I

By Strength of Arms can pluck that Title from you,

[Page]The right again is mine.—

Gund.

—O! never hope it:

As soon you may from the avenging Pow'rs

Snatch their dread Bolts of Fury, as from me,

That which my Sword made mine. But listen now

To what my Pity of your Youth inclines me.

So well I love the Brave, that though this Action

Does savour more of Rrashness, or Despair,

Than prudent Valour; yet, release the Prince,

Give up the Fortress, and return again

To your forsaken Duty, and your Fault

Shall die forgotten, like an idle Dream

That pass'd unheeded by.—

Amb.

——Such Dreams as these

Carry vast moment with them, and oft-times

Portend the fall of Monarchs. Think not, Gunderic,

That this attempt is like a short-liv'd Blazo

That dies as soon as kindl'd: no, the Justice

On which our Cause is built, though we should perish,

Would from the midst of your own Subjects raise

Some Valiant Spirit to redress our Wrongs,

And bravely strike to right a Ravish'd Virgin.

Gund.

Be witness for me, Gods, how much I loath

A Villany like that! How much my Heart

Deplores with Tears of Blood the Virtuous Princess!

And if the Prince be Guilty, not your self

Should run more greedily to just Revenge

Than I; no more I'll own him for my Son,

But blot him from my Memory for ever,

And give him up to Justice.—

Amb.

—'Tis not safe

To venture so the Honour of our Race

Upon the partial Justice of a Father:

The soundest Proofs against so strong a Prejudice

Will weigh but little.—

Gund.

—How have I descended

Below my self, to bandy words with Rebels,

And in return, meet nothing but Contempt!

But I will rowze my sleeping Majesty,

And speak in Thunder to them.—Hear me you

That try beneath the Prince to shroud the Traitor,

Hear what your King commands. Deliver up

The Fortress straight, and with a quick Submission

Implore the Pardon you so proudly slighted,

Or the Revenge which I will take, shall stand

To after times exemplary and dreadful.

Amb.

Threats cannot frighten Men: now hear me, Gunderic.

[Page]Not that I doubt the Issue, or despair

Of wish'd Success; but that I may not leave

To chance, a thing of such vast consequence

As is our House's Honour, which would suffer

In wanting just Revenge; soon as your Forces

Attempt our Strengths, the Head of Agilmond,

Reeking with Blood, shall be thrown over to you:

And the first hour of your Assault shall be

His last of Life.—

Amal.

—The Head of Agilmond!

Forbid it, Heav'n! rather let me disclose,

Aside.

With hazard of my Life, the fatal Secret

Which has so long lain hid!—

Gund.

—You dare not act

What you would seem to threaten.—

Amb.

—Let my daring

Be put to tryal, and you soon will find

How much I dare, or little.—

Gund.

—Now, by Heav'ns,

He mocks my Anger, the insulting Boy!

And dallies with my Rage. But let me live

Branded with the base Names of Slave and Coward,

If any tame results of Blood or Nature

With-hold my just Revenge. Genselaric,

Begin th' Assault. Perish ten thousand Sons,

Rather than I'll endure Affronts like these:

Though Agilmond should fall, my Noble Vengeance

Shall, like another Son, keep up my Fame,

And make my Name Immortal.—

Is going, Amalazontha holds him.

Amal.

—Stay! O stay!

My Royal Husband; and before you go

To this most fatal Conflict, give one Moment

To the sad Transports of a mourning Mother:

And you Ambiomer, attend a while,

For I have mighty Wonders to disclose.

Gund.

What means the Woman? Can you have ought to say

That may at such a time as this be worth

One Moment's stop?—

Amal.

—Yes, my lov'd Lord, I have.

Kneeling.

But first unbend your Brow, whilst on my Knees

I humbly beg your Pardon, that I durst

Thus long deceive you: Agilmond is not

What he appears, nor could commit a Rape

On fair Eurione.—

Gund.

—You speak in Riddles;

Explain your mystick meaning, and dispatch us.

Amal.

Let me not lose your Love for ever, when

[Page]I tell you he's a Woman.—

Gund.

—Ha! a Woman!

Amb.

Ye Gods! can this be true?—

Amal.

—Put off your wonder,

Whilst I unfold the mighty Mystery.

When you, my Lord, went to the Gothish War,

You left me pregnant;

And your impatient wishes for a Son

Forc'd out a Solemn Vow, that if my Issue

Prov'd Female, it should die.—

Gund.

—'Tis true, I did so;

And though the Vow was rash, yet being made,

I had not fail'd to keep it.—

Amal.

—Too well I know it;

And therefore many doubtful Conflicts pass'd

'Twixt a Wife's Duty, and a Mother's tenderness:

Nature at last o'recame, and made me venture

What most I fear'd, your Anger, nay, your Hatred,

To save a harmless Babe. My time drew near;

And I, assisted by two faithful Servants,

Dispos'd all things with privacy and care

To favour the deceit: My pangs were short,

And soon rewarded with the happy Birth

Of a most lovely Child, but as my fears

Too truly had suggested, of that Sex

Which you had doom'd to Death. I then resolv'd

To put in practice what I long design'd,

And bred it as a Male.—

Gund.

—'Tis wondrous strange!

How could you blind the piercing eyes of those

Whom I at my departure had appointed

To pry into its Sex?—

Amal.

—A new born Male

Was by my Faithful Confidents prepar'd;

Which hid within the Bed, and drawn from thence,

Confirm'd them all that I had born a Son:

My Infant Daughter was for some few Weeks,

Under pretence of Sickness, bred in private;

And for her real Name of Elismonda,

Took that of Agilmond.—

Gund.

—The strange Events

Of this amazing day have been so wonderful,

Methinks I stand prepar'd to credit firmly

The most unlikely News. 'Tis you, ye Gods,

Whose over-ruling Providence contriv'd

This Maze of Fate! and Kings, though Gods on Earth

Must not contest with you! Nor have I lost

[Page]By this Exchange; since for a Son, whose weakness

Has often made me blush, I gain a Daughter

Well worth the owning. Madam, rise; and let

This strict Embrace attone for all the troubles

Which my rash Vow has caus'd you.—

Amal.

—Let me thus

Kneeling again.

Receive the mighty Blessing.—

Gund.

—Now, Ambiomer,

You see the rash Mistakes to which your Passion

Has led you Blindfold: Agilmond, you find,

Cannot be guilty of that horrid Rape

Of which he stands accus'd.—

Amb.

—My Lord, I know it;

And 'tis with wondrous shame that I reflect

On the unworthy treatment I have given

That injur'd Princess: But it is not yet

Too late to make amends, and my Repentance

Shall move with winged haste. Madam, I go

To send you that lov'd Daughter, which has been

So much the Care of Heav'n. But oh! my Sister!

Where shall we find the Lustful Villain now,

That robb'd thee of thy Honour?—

Gund.

—Stay, Ambiomer,

And hear me speak; I see so much of Honour

Break through your gusts of Passion, that at once

I pity and esteem you; and to shew it,

Invite you to come forth: On a King's Word,

(And he who trusts my Honour, never shall

Have reason to repent him) you shall meet

With Honourable Usage. Fate and I

Have mighty thinks in store for your advantage,

Unless your own Distrust of both defeat them.

Brio.

Consider, Sir, e'er you consent too easily,

That the whole Fortune of the Gothish Nation

Depends upon your Conduct.

Amb.

I will answer

For the Success of what I now design:

I see his aim, nor will I doubt his Honour.

My Lord, I am resolv'd to trust your Honour,

And wait the Princess home: But first be pleas'd

To draw your Forces off, that my Surrender

May have no shew of Fear.—

Gund.

—Genselaric,

Conduct them off; come, my Amalazontha,

The Triumphs which were destin'd for this day

Shall yet go on, and, tho thus cross'd, shall join

Drums beating, Trumpets sounding.

A double Crown for ever in our Line.

Exeunt Gund. &c. below, Ambiomer, &c. above.

[Page]

SCENE, A Chamber in the Cittadel.

Enter Ambiomer and Briomer.

Brio.

You know, my Lord, 'twas always my Opinion,

That Agilmond was Innocent; and once

I hinted to you, my suspitions tended

Another way; they're now so much confirm'd,

I dare impart them to you.—

Amb.

—Good my Lord,

Inform me quickly, that my Rage may find

A lawful Object, and my Breast be quieted

With Hopes of just Revenge for my wrong'd Sister.

Brio.

As it appear'd unlikely, that the Prince

Should snatch by force what the succeeding night

Had giv'n him freely; so it seem'd to me

Most probable, that some despairing Lover,

Cut off from all his Hopes, should force the Joy,

Which otherwise he was to lose for ever:

This made me doubt the General; with whose love

To fair Eurione I'm well acquainted,

And had it from himself.—

Amb.

—His love to her

The Queen inform'd me of; but that alone

Seems much too weak a ground to judge him Guilty.

Brio.

I grant, my Lord, it is; and therefore this

Did but awake my Doubts: What shock'd me more,

Was that I learn'd he had not been at home

During that dismal Night.—

Amb.

—I must confess

Such an unusual absence look'd suspicious.

Brio.

But that which most confirms me that he was

The Ravisher, is the Confusion visible

In him and his upon the late Discovery

Of Agilmond's true Sex; for I my Eyes

Did rivet to their Faces, and observ'd

More than Surprise, Vexation, Grief, and Care,

With frequent Whispers, and such cloudy Looks

As Guilty Men can never well put off.

Amb.

Continue, my dear Briomer, to make

Your Observations still.

But I will yet be calm, and when our Doubts

Are grown up into Certainties, fall on him

With unresisted Fury.—Is the Princess

Enter Albimer.

Yet ready to depart?—

Albi.

—My Lord, she is;

[Page]And in her Female Habit looks so lovely,

That none, except the fair Eurione,

Can vie with her for Beauty.—

Amb.

—When she pass'd

For Agilmond, her Features and Complexion

Were much too delicate for what she seem'd.

My Lords, let all attend her to the Palace;

The King, though cruel, has a generous Soul,

And will not wrong our Trust.

Exeunt.

SCENE a rich Hall in the Palace.

Enter Gunderic, Amalazontha, Genselaric, Ferrismond, Rodoric, Almeric, Guards and Attendants.

Gund.

How strange are all the turns of Providence!

And by what secret steps does Heav'n advance

Its own designs, and mock our humane Prudence!

Yet where it means to bless, it makes us happy

By Methods hid from us: This day's design

Was to unite in Bands of lasting Friendship

The Vandals and the Goths, and join by Marriage

The double Royal Line; and that intent

This happy day will finish, but by ways

Unthought of, unforeseen: a Male and Female

Are on each side discover'd, long conceal'd

For Reasons almost equal; Fate has match'd them,

And the agreeing course of both their lives

Has mark'd them each for other.—

Amal.

—'Tis so visible,

That to oppose it were to fight with Heav'n,

And counterplot the Wisdom of the Gods.

Gund.

I long to see the new found Elismonda

Drest in her Sex's Habit; if she bears

Her change as well as young Ambiomer,

I shall not much regret the loss of Agilmond.

Amal.

He has, indeed, a charming Manly Beauty,

Which challenges at once, Respect and Love.

But hark! your Subjects joy proclaim their coming;

Shouts within.

And see, they're here already—

Enter Ambiomer, Elismonda in her own habit, Briomer, Albimer, Gothish Lords, &c.

—O! my Daughter;

Is it then giv'n me to embrace you thus?

To call you Elismonda? and behold you

Confess'd what Nature meant you?—

Gund.

Accept, my Daughter,

Embracing her.

[Page]A Father's Penitence, who ne'er had pass'd

So harsh a Doom upon your Infant State,

Could he have then foreseen the mighty Joys

Your riper Years have brought him.—

Elis.

—Royal Sir,

Excuse a Criminal that dar'd to live

When doom'd to death by you.—

Gund.

—Let us blot out

Those sad Remembrances, and turn our thoughts

To Scenes of welcome Joy.—To you, brave Prince,

To Amb.

And your mistaken Zeal, we owe the blest

Discov'ry of this Secret; and your firm

Reliance on my Honour, has engag'd

My grateful Soul to make you large Returns;

Nor shall they be delay'd: but where's the Queen

Your Royal Mother?—

Amb.

—With my mourning Sister.

Gund.

Alas! poor injur'd Innocence! How I lov'd her,

My late design of matching her with Agilmond

Sufficiently exprest; how now I pity her,

My dire Revenge upon the lustful Villain,

Whene'er found out, that robb'd her of her Honour,

Shall loudly prove. But say, Ambiomer,

On what strange ground did your Suspicion work,

To six the Guilt of such an horrid Action

On the supposed Agilmond?—

Amb.

—I never

Should dare to look upon this injur'd Princess

Had I not gone upon the strongest Circumstances

That could engage Belief. Your Majesty

Well knows this Dagger; in the very place

Where that foul Villany was done, I found it.

Elis.

I know not where I lost it, but I guess,

'Twas in the Gothish Queen's Apartment.—

Fer.

—Madam,

I saw you drop it there; and I remember

I stoop'd to take it up, but was prevented

By Rodoric.—

Brio.

—My Lord, observ'd you that?

To Amb. aside,

Gund.

By Rodoric? He then must needs be able

To give us some account of this dire action.

Come hither, Rodoric; you know that Dagger?

Rod.

My Lord, I think I oft have seen it worn

By our fair Princess.—

Gund.

—Had you it of late

In your Possession? Speak.—

Rod.

—No, Royal Sir.

[Page]Fer.

Sure you forget; I saw you take it up

But Yesterday.—

Rod.

—'Tis true, indeed, I did;

But lost it soon.—

Gund.

—It must be so, he falters:

By all my hopes of Glory, he's the Villain.

My Guards, there, seize and bear him hence to Torture;

We'll see what Sense the Rack will force from him.

Gen.

So much I hate a Crime so black as his,

I'll see him rack'd my self, and bring your Majesty

A just account.—

Briomer whispers the King .

Gund.

—My Lord, you much amaze me:

But nought shall be omitted, that may serve

To solve this fatal Riddle. Seize the General.

Gen.

Me! Royal Sir?—

Gund.

—I will not hear him speak.

Intreat the Queen and Ravish'd Princess hither.

Exit Briomer

Now bear that Villain forth. You, Ferrismond,

Go see him rack'd, and bring me an account

Of what he shall discover.—

Rod.

In vain you seek what you must never find;

An Innocence like mine can laugh at Torments.

Is carried off, Ferrismond attends, &c.

Gund.

—Now, Ambiomer,

Prepare to see what just Revenge I'll take

Upon the Lustful Slave that durst pollute

The Sacred Blood of Kings.—

Amb.

—This Royal Justice

For ever makes me yours.—

Enter Rhadegonda, Eurione in Mourning, and Briomer.

Eur.

Ah! whither do you lead me, cruel Briomer?

Eurione draws back .

Let me for ever hide my Face in Darkness:

I am not sit for Light; a stain like mine

Should seek for Everlasting Night to cover it.

Brio.

Madam, the King invites you to assist

In the discovery of the cursed Ravisher,

And then to taste the Pleasure of just Vengeance.

Eur.

Vengeance? will that restore my Ravish'd Honour?

I cannot bear their eyes; already see

All turn and gaze, as if they saw a Monster.

Gund.

Approach, fair Sufferer; and suspend a while

Your cruel Griefs, to entertain a Joy

The Gods themselves are fond of, just Revenge.

View this supposed Criminal; not my Blood

Which flows within his Veins, shall priviledge him.

[Page]Eur.

Oh I have seen enough: the Ring! the Ring!

Swoons away, they chafe her, she recovers.

Amb.

What means my best lov'd Sister?—

Eur.

—O that Ring!

It was impossible so black a Crime

Should be conceal'd for ever. That bright Jewel,

Worn by the Lustful Villain, glitter'd then

Through all the shades of Night, and now reveals

The cursed Ravisher.—

Amb.

—O ye just Gods,

By what amazing ways you make the Guilty

Meet their just Vengeance!—

Enter Ferrismond.

Fer.

—Rodoric, Royal Sir,

Has on the Rack accus'd Genselaric

To be the Actor of this horrid Rape,

And that himself and Almeric assisted him.

Gund.

Secure that other Villain! How was I

Mistaken in this Monster!

Amb.

—Speak, foul Ravisher,

What Devil prompted you to such an Action

As Fiends would blush to own?

Gen.

—'Twas Love, or Lust,

Give it which name you will. The mighty Pleasure

I then receiv'd, will scarce be bought too dear

By all that I can suffer. Rodoric

Can tell you more: For me, I vow to keep

An Everlasting silence.—

Gund.

—Force of Torture

Shall break your wilful silence, and compel you

To Groan, if not to speak.—

Amb.

—My Royal Lord,

When first I found this Weapon, I vow'd solemnly,

That my sad Soul should never taste of Quiet,

Till in the lustful Villain's Blood I drench'd

The thirsty Blade.—Thus I perform my Vow.

Stabs Gen.

And though the foulness of a Guilt like yours

Deserves the common Hangman to avenge it;

Yet since the Royal Blood of Gunderic

Flows in your Veins, die by a Prince's hand.

Gund.

Young Man, you are too rash.—

Amb.

—Thus low I beg

Kneeling.

Your Royal Pardon, and submit my self

To what your justly kindled Rage ordains.

I hearken'd to my wrongs; and they allow'd me

No leisure to consult with due respect.

Gund.

Rise up, brave Prince; I only grieve he met

A Fate so Noble. Fair Eurione,

[Page]This Virgin will endeavour to divert you,

And make you lose your Sorrows.—

Eur.

—Royal Sir,

Could my lost state admit of any Comfort,

I sure, should find it there. But Life has nothing

That I can relish now. Blest opportunity!

Aside.

I see the friendly means to end my Sorrow,

Sees the Dagger.

And make my Fame Immortal;

But shall I mix my Blood with such a Villain's?

Stain'd and polluted as it is, 'tis fit

To mingle with no other.

Snatches the Dagger, and stabs her self.

Amb.

—Hold, Eurione!

What has despairing Sorrow forc'd you to?

Eur.

To seek the only cure for that distemper

Which I have labour'd under. Nor had I wav'd

This Remedy so long, but that I waited

To see my injur'd Honour first reveng'd.

What farther use of Life can I propose?

Since nothing more is to be lost or gain'd;

My Honour gone, and my Revenge obtain'd.

Dies.

Rhad.

Alas! my Daughter!

The Gods must have in store mighty Reserves

Of Happiness, to make you just amends

For what you suffer'd here.—

Amb.

—O Royal Victim!

How does the Soul of our Immortal Father

Look down with Joy upon his dying Offspring,

And bless his Noble Issue.—

Amal.

Let not unprofitable Sorrow, Madam,

Make you insensible of solid Joys;

Eurione has gain'd a Fame by dying,

Which the most happy life may envy.—

Gund.

—Madam,

You mourn a Daughter lost, to fill her room

Accept this Maid, the only Prop and Comfort

Of my declining Age; in gaining her

I lost a Son; but shall be much o'erpaid,

If this brave Prince will take his empty place,

And let me call him mine.—

Rhad.

—What vast returns

Of Gratitude am I oblig'd to make

For such a mighty Present?—

Amb.

—Let me thus

Kneeling.

Low on my Knees receive the glorious Fortune

Your Goodness has design'd me. If you, Madam,

Consent to favour my aspiring hopes

The Blessing will be infinite.

[Page]Elis.

—The King commands,

And I must ne'er dispute his Royal Will.

Gund.

Draw near Ambiomer and Elismonda;

Thus I unite your hands, and may this be

A Match of Nations, whilst the Goths and Vandals

Link'd in a firm Alliance look on you

As on their double Pledge of mutual Friendship.

Amb.

All my past Griefs are swallow'd up and lost

In this vast tide of Joy: and Fate has given

More than my most aspiring hopes could aim at.

Come, beauteous Elismonda, let's prepare

To meet Love's richest Joys: And from our Fate

The World may learn this Lesson, that the Gods,

While Human Policy contends in vain,

Will their own Ends by their own Ways obtain.

Exeunt omnes.

Information about this book

Title statement

The rape, or, The innocent impostors a tragedy acted at the Theatre-Royal by Their Majesties servants.

Brady, Nicholas, 1659-1726.

Edition statement

1692

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2008-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A29152

ID [STC]

Wing B4170

ID [STC]

ESTC R19594

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

12258652

ID [OCLC]

ocm 12258652

ID [VID]

57685

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A29152)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 57685)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 172:11)

Source

— The rape, or, The innocent impostors a tragedy acted at the Theatre-Royal by Their Majesties servants., Brady, Nicholas, 1659-1726..

Extent

[8], 56 p.

Printed for F. Saunders ...,. London :: 1692.. (Attributed to Nicholas Brady. Cf. Nicoll, A. Hist. of Engl. drama, 1660-1900, 1961, v. 1, p. 394.) (Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.)

Creation

Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.

Editorial practices

EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO.

EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org).

The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source.

Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.

Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.

Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.

The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.

Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).

Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site.