Agrippa, King of Alba, or, The false Tiberinus as it was several times acted with great applause before His Grace the Duke of Ormond then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, at the Theatre Royal in Dublin / from the French of Monsieur Quinault.

Agrippa, King of Alba, or, The false Tiberinus as it was several times acted with great applause before His Grace the Duke of Ormond then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, at the Theatre Royal in Dublin / from the French of Monsieur Quinault.

Table of contents

Title page

THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

§

PROLOGUE.

§

AGRIPPA: OR, THE FALSE Tiberinus.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV.

SCENE V.

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV.

SCENE V.

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV.

SCENE V.

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV.

SCENE V.

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV.

SCENE V.

EPILOGUE To the Lord LIEUTENANT.

§

[Page]

[Page]

AGRIPPA KING of ALBA: OR, THE False Tiberinus.

As it was several times Acted with great Applause before his Grace the Duke of Ormond then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, at the Theatre Royal in Dublin.

From the French of Monsieur QUINAULT.

LONDON: Printed by J. C. for Nich. Cox, neer Castle-Yard in Holbourn. 1675.

THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

[Page]

[Page]

THis Play was Translated by a young Gentleman, who has a great esteem of all French Playes, and particularly of this; and thinking it pity the Town should lose so excellent a Divertisement for want of a Translation, bestow'd his pains upon it; and it happening to be in my hands in the long Vacation, a time when the Play-houses are willing to catch at any Reed to save themselves from Sinking, to do the House a kindness, and serve

[...]

§

[Page]

I know Madam, that this Play in it self is not at all calculated to the humour of the present times, the Subject being too grave, and the Lines too modest; nor is it (to speak Modishly) showish enough. Yet what makes it unfit for others, adapts it the more for your view, whose Vertues are so great, and whose Judgment so clear, that as the first sway you against the present humour which delights the World, so the last defends you from being carried away only with vanity and show.

And the assurance I have of this, gives me the confidence to add, That the contrivance (though it be but one single Plot) is so neat and curious, and the contest between Love and Nature maintained every where to that height, that I cannot doubt but you will find some Divertisement in it, so far as Monsieur Quinault, whose it was in the Original, had a part in it: and as for the English it speaks, I must wholly leave to your Ladyships Judgment: with the same submission that I subscribe my self

Madam,

Your Ladyships most humble and most obedient Servant, J. D.

PROLOGUE.

[Page]

AS young and spotless Virgins who appear

Cloystred in modesty and cloath'd with fear:

Who blush at hearing of a Man but nam'd,

And think they're by one wanton word defam'd,

The more they curb their blood and check desire,

The more their Veins boil with a secret fire:

Which with such heat do's Honours Fort assail,

The Tyrint Nature must at length prevail.

Love do's alas! their tender brests invade,

And by themselves they are themselves betray'd.

Forgetful grewn at once of fear and shame,

Their former coyness do sincrease their blame.

So though our Poet all his powers oppos'd,

And seem'd unwilling to become expos'd,

Strugled with doubts, was fearful to be stung

With the lawd touch of every Critick tongue;

Yet the fierce humour did so fast encroach,

He's faln at last into a French debauch,

Just in the nick of time, when you decry

That Nations Wit, and damn their Poetry.

What may is there now left him to prevent

The smart [...]st doom your Censures can invent?

He knows too well you can't with Plays dispence

That have no Ornament but plot and Sence;

That every little Scene that is not full

Of G [...]how looks impotent and dull:

Theref [...] [...] all the blame on Frailties score,

Hoping you [...] pardon one ne'r sin'd before.

And [...] consider, to oblige you to't,

'Twas hopes to please made him turn prostitute.

§

[Page]

The Names of the ACTORS.

LAvinia, A Princess of the blood Royal of Alba.

Albina, Daughter of Tyrhenus, and Sister of Agrippa.

Camilla, Confident to Lavinia.

Julia, The same to Albina.

Mezentius, Nephew to Tiberinus, and Heir to the Crown.

Faustus, Friend to Mezentius.

Tyrhenus, A Prince of AEneas's blood, Father to Agrippa and Albina.

Agrippa, Son of Tyrhenus, reigning under the resemblance, and assuming the Name of Tiberinus King of Alba.

Lausus, Atis, Officers to Agrippa.

Guards. Train.

The Scene in the Palace of the Kings of Alba, in the Princess Lavinia's Apartment.

AGRIPPA: OR, THE FALSE Tiberinus.

[Page]

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.

Lavinia, Albina, Camilla, Julia,

Lavinia.

YOur Griefs with mine such weak resemblance bear,

That they, Albina, scarce deserve a Tear.

[Page]Alb.

You to my sorrows the due sence deny,

If you think yours can be more just or high.

Lav.

For brave Agrippa, murdered, you may claim

A Sisters grief; I have a Lovers flame.

Alb.

By my sole Brothers loss my sufferings are

More cruel, that they are without repair.

You to your Mournings justly may give end:

The Prince for you a passion does pretend;

And those bright Eyes make you the Mistriss known

Of many Loves. My Brother was but one.

Lav.

I many had, e're by the Tyrant crost;

But lov'd but one Albina, and he's lost.—

—The King before that he your Brother slew,

Studied to please, and talk't of Love to you;

And now your duty do's oblige your hate.

A Brothers loss may'nt all your griefs create.

Alb.

Suspect me not of crimes so poor and base,

That murder, in my heart left him no place;

And sullied with our Blood, he do's appear

Too horrible to have Dominion there.

Since now the Tyrant to these Courts returned,

My heart with a renewing rage has burned:

And though just anger may oppress your mind,

Compar'd with mine, your Troubles are but kind.

Tis now a year since my dear Brother's dead:

You may be comforted, and Custome plead.

Lav.

Speak for your self: I find a Lovers loss

Is than a Brothers much the weightyer Cross.

The Charms of Love more tender are than those

Which Nature do's within our Brests dispose:

Those Transports of Our blood their Limits have

In grief, which seldome travels past the Grave.

Who has no Brother, can no Sister bee;

Nature is stopt, and Reason sets you free:

But Love! which from some heavenly fire takes birth,

Preserves its flame still, though the Lover's Earth.

[Page]Alb.

But to augment, and raise my passion higher,

My Interest with my Nature do's conspire.

Alas! My Brother did not only dye,

But all the hopes of Our poor Family:

We from the antient Alban Kings descend,

Though too far off advantage to pretend;

You touch the Throne, and Fortune once may prove

A Salve to all these Rigours of your Love.

Lav.

Whilst Love not Fortune tryumphs in my Breast,

Crowns will not quiet, but disturb my Rest:

For since all that on Earth I lov'd lyes slain,

Pomp must be grievous, and a Scepter pain.

After Mezentius, and this Tiberine,

'Tis true, the Crown is by my Birthright mine.

But he who now that high degree makes good,

Sullyes by Crimes his Scepter, and our Blood;

His faults have all AEneas actions stain'd,

And lost those gloryes Alba once had gain'd.

Agrippa's Murder, who by him did fall,

As 'twas his last, so 'twas his great'st of all:

A Prince of his own blood, in whom there shone

That Loyal Zeal, that did support his Throne;

And yet before his wretched Fathers eyes

Stab'd by that Tyrants hand, this Heroe dyes;

Guilty of no Offence, no other Sin,

But that he did too much resemble him.

A Crime so bloody, it has banish'd quite

All that o'er me he could pretend of right.

All due respects to him I've from me thrown,

And neither Kindred nor Allegiance own;

And 'tis but just that Murderer should prove

The due resentments of incensed Love.

But who comes there?

Alb.

Farewel, It is the Prince,

Whose love to you I'm sure will wish me hence.

SCENE II.

[Page]

Lavinia, Mezentius, Faustus, Camilla.

Lav.

You see the Fruits of all your cares for me;

When you approach, those I delight in, flee.

Mez.

If 'twere for me Albina left the place,

I did an object of your sorrows chace.

Lav.

That Tyrant's Nephew causes all my grief,

Sure then can vainly hope to bring relief.

Mez.

Princess, you too severely make him bear

The punishment had in the crime no share.

Had I with my own hands your Lover slain,

Could you have treated me with more disdain?

Lav.

And tell me, how I may be well assur'd,

Twas not your Jealousie, his death procur'd.

The King against him had no cause at all;

His Arm might borrow'd be to act his fall.

But I must doubt, lest my Agrippa prove

A Sacrifice to yours, his Rivals love.

Mez.

The King at large too often has declar'd,

That he the greatness of your Lover fear'd:

That having rais'd him to so vast a height,

Might make him crush the Scepter with his weight,

Before fit time should give him leave to do

What their resemblance well might prompt him to.

He by removing him, pull'd out those stings

Which fret and gall the brests of jealous Kings,

For Nature had their several forms contriv'd

So exactly like, as cannot be believ'd:

My neer Allyance scarce could make me know

To which of them I did Allegiance owe.

[Page]Lav.

'Tis certain Nature did in them forget

Those different stamps she on her works do's set;

For she had form'd their bodies so the same,

As if they had been Moulded in one Frame.

But that Distinction which we could not find

I' th' outward man, was blazon'd in the mind.

And Nature though she had forgetful been

To speak without, had wrote at large within.

Agrippa had a Soul, as great and high

As is the Tyrant's full of Treachery.

And from that dissimilitude was found

I' th' inward man, my Love receiv'd his Wound.

Mez.

Your Anger's just, and your resentment brave

The King himself appears a sence to have

Of's fault to you: For when we first did meet,

Scarce did he me with due Embraces greet,

But ask'd for you; and I could scarcely breath

Your ceaseless Sorrows for Agrippa's death,

But his Concern I by his paleness knew.

At last he said, he'd see and comfort you.

Lav.

Oh Heav'ns! That is the worst that I could fear.

Dares that Wild Tyrant in my sight appear,

And to those Horrours I conceiv'd before,

Bring his hand purpl'd in that precious Gore?

Mez.

To gratify your hate in his first fight,

A Fatal Dart upon that hand did light;

By which the Destinyes did let him know

What injur'd you, could not unpunish'd go.

Lav.

The Gods, who still revenge the Innocent,

Have That, an earnest of your Vengeance sent:

They pierc'd his hand, but only made that Dart

Fore-run the Thunder that must pierce his heart;

Even you, who in his barbarous thoughts delight,

Whom Crimes do more to him, than blood unite,

May fear the Gods, lest they in anger do

Extend their Vengeance and their Darts to you.

[Page] But faithless man, your glory in your Ill.

Mez.

If I were faithless, I am not so still;

I am convinc'd; Your beautyes make me know,

That to Divinities we Incense owe:

Your powerful Charms do with such lustre shine,

They force belief there must be powers Divine.

For had I doubted all our Gods were lyes,

I had become a Convert from those eyes:

At least, if all the rest I should disown,

Yet love in them, would make his power be known.

Lav.

You plead in vain, Prince, for Agrippa's slain:

All thoughts of Love will but increase my pain.

Nature in his Composure took such care,

She fixt all could allure or charm me there:

Which Love improving, did create a flame,

To which a constant Votaress I became.

We once owe Love our hearts in Sacrifice,

And 'twould be Tyranny to ask them twice.

Mez.

Ah Princess! this is too much cruelty.

I cannot doubt your Love to him, whilst I

Am that sad Object of your rigour made,

That from your breast I'm banish'd by his shade.

Why with my Love, should you increase your hate?

Lav.

Cease then to Love.

Mez.

'Tis not within my Fate.

Rather your Indignation still proclaim,

Than once command me to desist my flame.

For though those eyes with death should wound my heart,

They'd yet yeild pleasure to exceed the smart.

To different ends we were by Fate design'd;

I born to Love, and you to be unkind.

But see, Alas! You from me turn your eyes,

And weary of my sight, my Sighs despise.

Lav.

Behold the wretched Father of my Love,

Whose steps (as wing'd with haste or wonder) move!

SCENE III.

[Page]

Tyrhenus, Lavinia, Mezentius, Faustus, Camilla.

Tyrhenus.

I beg your pardon Sir, if I seem rude;

Business of weight do's make me thus intrude:

I to the Princess fatal Tydings bring,

That instantly she must expect the King.

Lavinia to Mezentius.

Now Prince, if of my griefs you have a sence,

Be you against this Torment my defence:

And by some Art endeavour to prevent

That sight will prove so great a punishment.

Mezentius.

I know so well what to my Love is due,

That my desires are wing'd to pleasure you.

SCENE IV.

Tyrhenus, Lavinia, Camilla.

Tyr.

The Prince in vain do's his Obedience show;

I too well, Madam, do the Tyrant know.

His perverse Soul in its desire persists,

And will grow furious against what resists.

You by retirement better may defend

You from his sight; unless he do's intend

A force; which yet I think he dares not do:

He fears the People, whom he knows love you.

Lav.

But then for you.

Tyr.

Alas! what can I doubt?

The choycest of my blood he has lett out.

[Page] That which remains is scarcely worth my care:

And I am too unhappy now to fear.

I'd let him know who 'twas he did destroy:

But—here he comes—pray Madam now withdraw.

SCENE V.

Agrippa, under the Name of Tiberinus King of Alba; Mezentius, Faustus, Lausus, Atis, and Tyhrenus.

Agrippa to Mezenzius.

Urge me no more, the Princess I will see.

Mezentius retires.

To Lausus.

Go you, take order all things fitted be,

That we may render to the Gods due Grace

For having by my Cares restor'd our Peace.

To Atis.

All else depart—Let none come in before

That I return.—How, have they shut the door?

Tyrh.

Yes Sir, and 'tis by my Advice 'tis done.

Agrip.

Father!

Tyrh.

I scarcely know thee for my Son:

But we're alone, and may discourse at large;

Seek'st thou Lavinia 'gainst my express Charge?

Received'st thou not the Scepter from my hand,

That thou so soon forget'st my strict Command?

Or dost thou not remember that by me

'Tis thou enjoy'st this Soveraign Dignity?

That I have thee to all this greatness brought?

Agrip.

I have forgot nothing of what I ought;

How (to preserve the Frontire Towns from Wast,)

When Tiberinus to his Camp made hast,

[Page] Having but Us, and three more in his Train,

Passing the Albula, then swoln with Rain,

Its Streams did with such fury him invade,

That there he perish'd, maugre all our aid.

There you that Scepter gave, which now I hold,

And from our neer resemblance, made me bold

To personate the King; and did entice

His Followers to joyn in our device.

And whilst I under his assumed Name,

With their Aids, Master of the Camp became.

You hither Tydings of my Death did bring,

And with my Murther did accuse the King.

Tyrh.

But when to keep this our Contrivance close,

I things in such good order did dispose,

To sum up all, this strict Command I gave,

(Your Empire, your Life, and mine to save)

That you your power should 'gainst your passion prove,

And study to forget Lavinia's Love.

And yet no sooner do you here return,

But I behold you with fresh Passions burn;

And for your Love, that desperate hazard run,

It must the ruine of your power become.

For whilst you think to act a Lovers part,

In the Kings face, you'll show Agrippa's Heart.

You on the Throne should strive to quench this Flame,

And in your Soul, should now begin to reign.

Be King indeed, and know how to suppress—

Agrip.

To be a King Sir, must one love the less?

Swaying a Scepter, must I sence disown?

Or can you think Love mounts not to the Throne?

That Kings unto this God do nothing owe,

Or that all Empires unto him don't bow?

Tyrh.

That fondling Love, and its Chimaera's are

Toys fit for breasts exempt from Nobler care.

To supream power it too much weakness brings;

For greatness should be the sole love of Kings.

[Page] Disclaim your Error then, and do, my Son,

What Tiberinus would himself have done.

Agrip.

He lov'd my Sister; should I do so too,

And an incestuous Marriage-Bed pursue?

Tyrh.

No; Other Crimes I should in thee detest,

Only admit Ambition in your brest:

For Scepters good, should be by Great o're-sway'd;

A Crown alone, could make me thus perswade.

Agrip.

Can't this Ambition with my Flame dispence?

Lavinia, Sir, has charmed all my Sence.

Let then my Scepter to her Love appeal.

What if I should the whole to her reveal?

Tyrh.

She's young, a Woman, and her talk may harm.

Trust you to me, all else do's me alarm.

And just cause of Suspition I find,

Both from the Princess Love, and your own Mind.

Lovers are bold, and Love is indiscreet;

Nature's more close, and for these cares more meet.

For though Lavinia silence knew, she may

When she knows you, her Love to you betray.

And then to all the world it would appear,

That you her Lover, not the Tyrant were:

Keep you your Crown then; and let this suffice,

She sells her hatred at so vast a Price.

Agrip.

Alas! the Price in my esteem runs low.

You of a Scepter don't the troubles know.

For since in these Ambitious ways you lead,

And an unwilling Crown fixt on this head,

I have not found that true Felicity,

Nor those vain sweets wherewith you flattred me.

The Heavens dayly threaten, Those that were

Witnesses of his death whose name I bear,

And did assist me in this glorious rise;

In the first Fight did fall before my eyes.

Whose Tragedy whilst pittying, yet I view'd

A Dart in its own blood this hand imbru'd.

[Page] As if to it Heaven justly sent that pain,

For the stoln Scepter, which it durst sustain.

Tyrh.

Fear not the Gods, they in your Favour strike:

For whilst to Tiberinus you're so like,

The Gods propitious were in slaying those,

Who only could your borrowed Name disclose.

That wounded hand too, ha's a kindness done;

For by your writing else you had been known.

Those strokes of Heaven therefore favours were;

By them you hold a Kingdom without fear.

And to your Glory Fate adds what remain'd;

You Victory on Victory have gain'd.

The War-like Rutuli, with your own hand

You have o'recome, and forc'd a peace demand.

And if you think you do Mezentius wrong,

To whom by Birth the Scepter do's belong;

The same just Heav'n, that seats you in the place,

Him from the Throne do's for his Vices chace:

Who blackned with a thousand Crimes do's dare

Even Heaven it self; nor would his own blood spare,

But had the sum of all Attempts contriv'd,

And Tiberinus of his Realm depriv'd,

Had not Lavinia's Beauty gain'd the Field,

And to his Love made his Ambition yield.

Reign you then so, as to deserve that Crown

From which by Heav'n Mezentius is thrown down.

And since that Kings of Gods the Image bear,

Let the resemblance in your Acts appear.

Agrip.

Mezentius may change Manners in the Throne;

Why should we with his Crimes his right disown,

Sullyed with Murder, Blood, and Treachery?

He's of AEneas Race.

Tyrh.

And are not We?

That blood o'th' Gods AEneas to his Race

Transmits, Mezentius do's by Crimes efface:

[Page] Whilst in our Veins (though not ally'd so neer,)

That heavenly Blood flows in a Stream more clear.

He makes a Mock of Laws and Sacred right,

And Titan-like, against the Gods do's fight,

Who thus incensed, have made choice of you,

To snatch from him that Scepter was his due.

Then since those Powers their Vengeance to extend,

Have thought it fit, that you your Arm should lend:

When they will give, refuse not you a Throne;

But from their Justice your Advancement own.

Agrip.

Accommodate the Scepter to my Flame;

Let me but love, and I consent to reign.

Tyrh.

Loving Lavinia, you your Crown may loose:

If you must love, you may some other choose.

Agrip.

Than her I cannot one more worthy find.

Tyrh.

A Crown would be so to a gallant mind.

Agrip.

Whilst I my Love, you your Ambition prize;

We cannot both, Sir, see with the same eyes.

The Scepter never did me farther please,

Than whilst it to my Jealousie gave ease.

Mezentius Rivals me, and were he King,

I fear his power might his contentment bring.

Tyrh.

Let him his Love, do you preserve his Throne.

Agrip.

With the Kings name let me my passion own.

Tyrh.

Under that odious Name you'll be despis'd.

Agrip.

Ah! how such cruelty is to be priz'd!

Lavinia's Love will best to me appear,

Under that false name of my Murderer.

Her greatest rigour will allay my pain;

And I shall prove his faith by her disdain.

Whilst I my Rival and my Murderer seem,

I all her scorns for favours must esteem:

And whilst this way her kindness I improve,

Her hate will be the touch-stone of her Love.

Tyrh.

Flatter your self then with so strange a Fate;

Mourning her Love, rejoyce to have her Hate.

[Page] Try thus how far for you her heart is mov'd,

And by her anger prove how you're belov'd.

—I have some Secrets of more weight, but here

Too long discourse 'twixt us suspitious were.

When the Kings Body I drew from the flood,

Alone I laid it on the pile of wood;

And knew so well to weep for you my Son,

That by my misplac'd passion overcome,

The Factions of the Kingdom were betray'd,

And me a partner in their plots have made.

That we may meet, feign you will have my head,

And let me prisoner to the Fort be lead;

By which you all suspitions may prevent,

Yet learn the Name of every discontent.

Now let your Anger against me grow high;

Pronounce it me that made the Princess fly;

And in fierce fury charge me that I do

No more approach Lavinia nor you.

Agrip.

Must I this forfeit of my duty make?

Tyrh.

I well can brook it when a Crown's at stake;

Nay rather beg so useful a disdain:

'Tis my sole glory, that I see you reign.

The End of the First ACT.

ACT THE SECOND.

[Page]

SCENE I.

Albina, Julia.

Julia.

THis Palace, Madam, should methinks renew

Those griefs are to your brothers murder due.

Why visit you this object of your wo?

Albina.

It is to see the Princess that I go.

Julia, We long have been by friendship ty'd:

But since my brother and her lover dy'd,

Griefs do unite us, and our Mutual care

Finds some refreshments in each others share.

Mezentius presence drove me hence this day;

But chasing me, chas'd not my griefs away;

Which thousand Accidents now swell so high,

That sinking under them I run to try

If our condoling can some ease procure.

But see, 'gainst Custome, they have shut the door.

Jul.

The King it may be hearing how she mourn'd,

Is gone to visit her, and not return'd.

Alb.

If so, I'll stay, and with a fury arm'd

Too strong to be by past endearments charm'd.

I will reproach him with my brothers blood,

And in a passion not to be withstood.

I will—but O Gods! May I tell thee so?

Jul.

What should you fear? doubt you to let me know

That your just hatred for your brothers fate

Makes you—

Alb.

I tremble but to think I hate,

[Page]Jul.

And can Agrippa's murderer still find

A calm reception, Madam, in your mind?

Alb.

I fear it, Julia, and would fain to thee

Disclose my doubts, that thou mayst counsel me.

—Oh!—How that Tyrant once to me was dear!

Jul.

Consider, now he is a Murderer;

That of a brother he has you depriv'd.

Alb.

I, and of more than is by thee believ'd.

His Tyranny, to act a double part,

Ravish'd at once my brother and his heart.

For since the date of that foul Cruelty,

He ha's not made the least address to me:

But through our race his rigour to improve,

He with my brother Massacred his Love.

Jul.

Me thinks all grief's to that brave brother due.

Alb.

That I esteem'd him dear, Heav'n knows 'tis true.

Never in any Sisters soul did move

A Purer kindness, or sincerer love;

And that to perfect, Natures self assaid,

When him so like to what I lov'd she made.

I truly priz'd him, Julia, and my eyes

Pay to his fall a dayly Sacrifice.

But when in his, my Lovers face appears,

I must confess he robs him of some tears.

That Tyrant in my heart bears yet such sway,

Though he exacts not, I am forc'd to pay;

And with some sighs I to my duty owe,

Let drop some tears I from my passion flow:

Or would I from my soul that false one chace,

For tears of sorrow, tears of spite take place.

Thus Love crept in my heart, like a bold thi f,

With Nature and my Duty shares my grief.

Jul.

Remember, Madam, to engage your hate;

Those Cruelties your Father do's relate.

Alb.

In vain my Father now my hate would move,

Since 'twas by his Command I first did love:

[Page] It takes from it all blemish of a Crime,

Since 'twas his orders did my Love enjoyn;

And we more readily our selves dispose

To Loves commands, than those that Love oppose.

Duty and Custome blew in me that fire

Which when it once flames up to a desire,

Julia, we that soft sweetness in it find,

'Tis hardly banish'd the severest mind.

Jul.

You shall not from me that complacence win,

To make me flatter you into a sin.

I should betray you, should I sooth your flame.

Alb.

I askt you counsel, to oppose the same.

Jul.

To make so Tyrannous a passion bow,

You must—

Alb.

My Father comes; say no more now.

SCENE II.

Tyrhenus, Albina, Julia.

Tyrh.

Gods! gainst this Tyrant have I no relief?

Come, my Albina, share thy Fathers grief.

Alb.

Sir, from what cause do's this fresh trouble spring?

Tyrh.

A new affront received from the King.

But Julia, see there be no spies in place;

Anger won't let me whisper my disgrace:

And when a Tyrant's minded to destroy,

To make just reason death, he'll find a Law.

The Princess did his sight with scorn reject;

And having met me here, he do's suspect

That I incens'd her to it, and has swore

That I shall die, if ere I se here more.

Thy Brothers blood cannot suffice his rage,

But to his blooming youth he'll add my age.

[Page] For to his thirst no blood of ours will bring

Allay, unless he drink it from the Spring.

There are, Alas! in life no charms I prize;

Only in weeping I employ these eyes:

But seeing thee so young, 'tis for thy sake,

If to preserve this life some care I take.

Alb.

Since he the Princess sight do's only bar,

Vouchsafe Sir for your life to take this care:

Or if you see her, you may yet engage

Her to admit the King, to calm his rage:

And lest his fury should on you reflect,

Perswade her flatter him with false respect.

Tyrh.

Shall I oblige her then to sooth his flame?

Alb.

His flame, Sir!

Tyrh.

Yes, he now declar'd the same,

Hoping alone he might the Princess see.

Finding a stop, and there perceiving me,

In height of rage and passion he reveal'd

He had for her a secret flame conceal'd;

And that my Son a sacrifice did prove

Not to suspected likeness, but to Love:

That jealousie in state was made the show,

But jealousie in Love did reach the blow.

And wouldst thou have me then with my own breath

Go blow that fire that gave Agrippa death?

Or to preserve my Life so little dear,

Procure his Mistriss for his Murderer?

Alb.

That were an infamy too base for you,

And what I'd sooner have you die than do:

No, rather, Sir, go and incense her more;

Add horrour to the hate conceiv'd before.

Tyrh.

'Tis that which now I did consult to do.

Alb.

Her sight, Sir, may prove dangerous to you:

Secure of the Kings threats I may her see.

Leave, if you please, the care of it to me.

[Page]Tyrh.

Albina go, act, urge, move every hinge

To raise her Soul to hatred and revenge.

Alb.

My Answer by obedience I return—

Oh, Julia, how with rage my heart do's burn!

Amidst these griefs I yet have this delight,

To gratifie my Father and my spite,

If now Lavinia will but credit me.

See her door opes.—Some one comes forth—'Tis she.

SCENE III.

Lavinia, Albina, Camilla, Julia.

Lav.

I was, Albina, coming to see you,

To tell you of a grief as bold as new:

Fierce Tiberinus yet besmear'd in blood,

Would have seen me, and scarce would be withstood.

Who all that I thought dear with's own hand slew,

Would expose me to th' horrour of his view.

Alb.

His barbarous fury, Madam, higher flies,

Than to present himself before your eyes:

That were but little, durst he do no more?

Lav.

What can he do?

Alb.

He do's those eyes adore.

Lav.

Heavens! shall he dare this, and be Thunder-free?

Alb.

My Father just now, Madam, told it me;

From whom (but that a strict Command has barr'd

Him from your sight) you might the same have heard.

We to his flame my Brothers Murder owe.

Lav.

Thy Brother's self did not my passion know:

For whilst he liv'd, a humour too severe

To let the least complacent thought appear,

My Love to him from all the world conceal'd.

Alb.

To such a Rival 'twould be soon reveal'd:

[Page] He through the perspective of passion pry'd,

Survey'd each look, and so much Love espi'd,

That if my Brother be a wandring shade,

It was your kindness him to Fate betray'd.

This fatal fire which now appears to blaze,

Ha's stopt his breath, and smother'd up his days;

And brave Agrippa in a flame did die,

Which unperceiv'd was kindled at your eye.

Here do's the Tyrant's cruelty appear;

Part in your Lovers death he'll make you bear:

For offering him unto his jealous rage,

He do's your Love with his own crime engage.

Lav.

You such Impressions on my Soul have laid,

Trembling and Horror every sence invade.

But, bloody Tyrant, thou th'effects shalt find.

Alb.

Anger well plac'd do's grace a noble mind.

For hate to him can never be severe;

And 'tis but justice to incense you here.

Then since his crime did from his passion spring,

What did the fault, let the chastisement bring.

Whilst you disdain and scorn upon him throw,

You make him wretched, who hath made you so.

Your vengeance within your own power you have,

And as you please may punish him your slave.

For one as cruel as himself he'll find,

Whilst Love do's play the Tyrant in his mind.

Lav.

My just resentments yet must higher fly:

These are too low, Albina; he must die.

The blood he shed requires all his own;

And I do only live to see it done.

Too long since my dear love receiv'd his doom,

Have I delay'd to wait upon his Tomb:

But I should blush to meet his happy Ghost,

Ere I to it a full revenge could boast.

Too long the Tyrant has his crime surviv'd;

But 'twas his absence me of means deprived.

[Page] Now if the Gods will to my vows be good,

His own shall expiate Agrippa's blood.

This day shall terminate his wicked race—

—What suddain paleness do's invade your face?

Alb.

I fear the dangers into which you run.

Lav.

Think'st thou the Tyrant then his fate can shun?

To Love spurr'd by Despair there's nothing hard:

I'll reach his heart i'th' midst of all his Guard.

Besides, so many friends with me will joyn,

As will remove all doubt of the design.

Mezentius shall a party be: for Fate

Will make his love the servant of my hate.

Thou to thy Father go, and bid with speed

His friends be ready 'gainst the time of need.

The Guards appear.

But the King comes.

Alb.

Let us his sight avoid.—

Lavinia goes in. Albina stays.

The false one merits well to be destroy'd:

And yet—

Jul.

To shun him enter at this door.

Alb.

If I do see him, 'tis t'incense me more.

SCENE IV.

Agrippa, Train, Albina, Julia.

Agrip.

I must a Hecatomb to Fortune owe

For this blest interview she do's bestow.

Madam, I know I have incurr'd you hate,

And therefore for this favour thank my Fate.

Alb.

You may with pleasure, Sir, behold my tears;

In them your joy of seeing me appears:

And in my Brothers blood may be discern'd

How much your heart hath been for me concern'd.

[Page]Agrip.

Justly this Anger you do on me throw;

'Tis what you to your Brothers ashes owe.

But mayn't there, Madam, some excuse appear,

That our resemblance was so strangely near?

Lest he by errour might advantage gain,

Interest of State—

Alb.

No, no, Sir, cease to feign.

I know what int'rest was in you most strong;

It was his love, not likeness, did the wrong.

You from his Loyalty had no offence:

Love gave the blow, the State was the pretence.

Your passion for Lavinia arm'd your hand.

Agrip.

Since you think so, I'll not your thoughts withstand:

But knowing what to such a crime is due,

Believ't a new one to pretend to you.

For all Love has of innocent delight,

In us, would turn to horrour, and affright.

Alb.

I do not wonder your inhumane brest

Disclaims with ease those vows to me addrest.

You in the fatal change a Rival find

To Murther, and 'tis crimes best please your mind.

My Love had been too quiet, and too free,

Too void of Tyrannies and Treachery:

No slaughters need its innocence annoy,

Nor had you found a Rival to destroy.

But to you nothing precious seems, or good,

Save what you buy with Treason and with Blood.

Your wretched Soul is so to mischiefs bent,

You cannot let your Love be innocent.

Agrip.

Do! let my passion for Lavinia be

Accus'd of Treasons, Blood and Tyranny;

Loaden with all you can invent of blame,

I shall not fear to own it without shame.

A fault so glorious will not charge my mind

With those remorses which the guilty find:

[Page] For howsoe're with Treacheries defil'd,

My Love is to my Reason reconcil'd.

Alb.

The Criminal that senceless of remorse,

Do's seem in ills to have atchiev'd his course,

For perfect marks he of a miscreant bears,

Whose guilt exceeds his horrour or his fears.

Sure after all those crimes your Love has cost,

Your heart should tremble at the peace you boast.

Till from the Soul those inward stings are fled,

All hopes of goodness are not banished:

Even in the heart that's blemish'd o're with stains,

Some little stock of Vertue still remains:

But those extinct, farewel all innocence;

That ill's past cure, that once is past all sence.

Agrip.

If't be your Brothers loss cause all this care,

You having nothing lost, your griefs may spare.

I'll be to you what ere he could have been;

And for my Love, will pay you my esteem.

Alb.

Me your Esteem? How can I guilty be,

That I should merit such an infamy?

Or since crimes are the pleasures of your brest,

What have I done you might not me detest?

Shall I a villain for my Brother have?

Agrip.

Your fury heightens that esteem I gave:

Whate're indignities from you are thrown,

I shall not as reproach, but kindness own.

Your generous duty do's herein appear;

I did but now for you begin to fear:

Methought some motion through your blood did fly,

Which did betray a passion in your eye;

And I observ'd through all your anger move

Something that spoke an old remain of Love.

Alb.

Your scorn and your advice, Sir, comes too late:

But if my eyes have made you doubt my hate,

Or with your pride my blood durst take a part,

I do declare them Traytors to my heart;

[Page] That heart, which once your Sacrifice became,

But since Agrippa's death abhors that name.

Your murtherous hand no sooner cut his thred,

But with his breath, all my desires were fled:

Quench't in a brothers blood those fires did die,

And wronged Nature did the knots untie.

Perhaps surpriz'd at your first sight I may

By my dull eyes, my troubled Soul betray:

But know, that Hatred in its turn do's move,

And is extravagant as well as Love.

That Tyrant's presence who my brother slew,

Might of his wounds the memory renew;

And blood offended will by Nature stir

At the approaching of the Murtherer.

Agrip.

I beg not that this anger you asswage,

Which blood Commands, and dutie do's Engage;

And by whose Justice worthy you appear

Of all that could love well, or be held dear.

After the pittie I conceive for you,

Let me add something to your glory due.

You ought to hate me, and in doing so,

Pay but what to your brothers dust you owe:

And 'twould grieve me if she whom once I lov'd,

Were not by dutie and by nature mov'd.

I'll quit you, Madam, lest my presence do

Drive from my heart that hatred is my due;

Lest some alluring charm incite you to

Those smiles for me, will be a shame for you.

I know crimes do souls great like yours incense;

You can't forget so barbarous an offence.

Yet since Love has those subtile secret ways,

And often by the eye the heart betrays;

I by my absence will your fears abate,

And so secure the honour of your hate.

SCENE V.

[Page]

Albina, Julia.

Alb.

To make me hate thee, Tyrant, take no care;

Thy barbarous Crimes too strong incitements are.

Fear not my Love, but at my Vengeance start:

Believe that still I would possess thy heart;

But 'tis, that I, by tearing it alive,

Might some allay to my just anger give.

Ah Julia! how I feel my Flame expire!

Disdain do's in me smother all desire:

And my Resentment taking now its turn,

Do's with my Love in equal ardour burn.

The Tyrant favour'd me; he did not find

In me those Charms might grace me in his mind.

For now no sighs of his, unless they be

His last, will prove acceptable to me.

Come, Julia, to his death let's lend our Aid;

His punishment appears to me delay'd.

Where Love and Nature both receive a wrong,

Revenge, though present, seems to stay too long.

The End of the Second ACT.

ACT THE THIRD.

[Page]

SCENE I.

Mezentius, Faustus.

Faustus.

THe Army, Sir, are now so discontent,

They would almost your own desires prevent.

Their hardned limbs unus'd to sloathful ease,

Would hazard any thing to hinder Peace.

Besides those friends that Alba will afford,

Who only wait when you will give the word.

And having all these helps, are those thoughts gone,

Which made you once aspire to the Throne?

Mez.

Faustus, since I to Love became a prize,

Scarcely for it do all my thoughts suffice:

That cruel passion, by prevailing art,

Has banisht all Ambition from my heart.

Before this wound the Princess beautie gave,

I to those viler passions was a slave;

Scorn to obey, and a desire to reign,

Prompted to all attempts a Crown to gain:

I endur'd nothing did my will controul:

And unto Crimes did dedicate my Soul.

But since her eyes gave light unto this flame,

Purg'd by those fires, my heart more pure became;

And now alone upon those Charms intent,

Dares form no vows but what are innocent.

There is no happiness but in her love:

And could I ever hope her breast to move,

[Page] I would not change so blessed an Estate

For all the Crowns can be bestow'd by Fate.

Faust.

The King, Sir, is advancing towards this place.

Mez.

He stops, and wears some trouble in his face.

SCENE II.

Agrippa, Mezentius, Faustus, Atis.

Mez.

Sir, If I may not indiscreet appear,

Why in your looks do you this sadness wear?

Things prosperous beyond your wishes are;

You return victor from a bloody war,

And bring along all that the Great can please;

Honours and pleasures, victory and peace.

Whilst Fate then to your Glory is so kind,

What sad dull humour dares oppress your mind?

Or what disquiet thoughts within your brest,

Whilst you give peace to all, disturbs your rest?

Agrip.

All things indeed appear to flatter me;

And I from war return with victory:

By many happy Fights our peace is wrought,

And all are pleas'd with this repose I brought:

But I alone this rest cannot enjoy,

Crowns are confin'd to so severe a law;

And that blest Calm a happy victor brings,

Is for the Subjects quiet, not the Kings.

Mez.

Though happiest Kings are not exempt from care,

Fortune so studies to abate your share,

That waiting to prevent you wishes, she

Strives to forget her old inconstancie.

Agrip.

'Tis true, that Fortune so her kindness shows,

As if that Goddess were at my dispose:

[Page] But were she truly so, she never can

Feed all the wishes and desires of man.

Under two powers is our life confin'd,

Cruel alike, as they alike are blind.

And seldom 'tis, that both do kind appear:

Secure of Fortune, yet we Love may fear.

Mez.

If still you love Albina, I'm surpriz'd;

Her, Sir, whose Brother you have sacrifiz'd?

Agrip.

No, 'Tis another Beauty I adore;

Which when you hear, will yet surprize you more.

My passion for Albina's quite supprest,

And 'tis Lavinia rules now in my brest.

Mez.

Lavinia, Sir!

Agrip.

Nay start not at that name:

I thought 't must grieve you when you knew my flame.

For knowing yours, 'twas easily discern'd

You must for such a Rival be concern'd.

I'm troubled that I do your griefs create;

But Love will be obey'd, as sure as Fate.

Mez.

Though, Sir, this suddain trouble may appear

Too great for my perplexed Soul to bear,

I'm not so vain to beg my King to be

Subject unto the least constraint for me:

Nor whilst on my own passion I reflect,

Will I a forfeit make of my respect.

Though in this Realm I claim a high degree,

There's distance 'twixt my Soveraign still and me:

And I must pay, though of blood Royal born,

Homage to him by whom the Crown is worn.

For crowned heads, by a becoming pride,

Are only unto Kings and Gods ally'd:

That blood of theirs we carry in our veins,

Do's only bind us in the streighter chains.

But Majesty do's soar so vast a flight,

Nature and Blood are subject to its height.

[Page] 'Tis not then on my own behalf I'll move

You would, great Sir, strive to renounce this love;

Nor is't for mine, but for your quiet sake,

For your repose, that I this boldness take:

Spare to your self the rigour of that Fate,

To see your sighs paid with eternal hate.

The Princess Lover whom your hands have slain,

Makes you the object of her just disdain:

She so much horrour has conceiv'd for you,

That your pretentions will its force renew;

And it will be a misery without end,

To excite hatred where you love pretend.

I have of this a sad experience made;

My constancy with scorn she hath repaid:

And you perhaps this fatal fire would flie,

If you had prov'd this scorn as much as I.

Agrip.

That you from her can no advantage gain,

Adds to my joy, and does relieve my pain.

My bitter passion has this sweetness yet,

I love a heart that won't to yours submit.

For 'tis enough to keep my hopes alive,

That I am certain you in vain must strive.

Whilst she scorns you, she do's my flame increase;

And lov'd she you, my love to her would cease.

Mez.

Horrour and hate together do combine,

To make her hate of you more sure than mine.

And a great King that is by Glory sway'd,

Should never be by passion so betray'd,

As to declare his Soul by beauty mov'd,

Till he be sure to be again belov'd.

The honour of his Crown must needs grow less,

When thus his love his greatness do's oppress;

And that by sighs which must be spent in vain

His Majesty's exposed to disdain.

Agrip.

Instruct me not, Sir, what I have to do;

I know well what is to my glory due,

[Page] And cannot think the honour of my State

Runs so much hazard by Lavinia's hate.

Few hatreds are so stubborn and severe,

But they grow flexible where Thrones appear;

And a bright Crown upon her Temples set,

May make her all her Lovers blood forgot.

Mez.

Sir, flatter not your self with hopes so vain;

The passions of her Soul too firm remain.

Her love to him, though dead, to you her hate,

Are both too constant, and too obstinate.

You may as well the laws of Fate controul,

As think to snatch Agrippa from her Soul;

And you as vainly hope, if you believe

She ought for you but hatred can conceive.

Your Crown, whilst with a blood so precious stain'd,

Will be with all its Charms by her disdain'd.

Even at your name her eyes with anger arm'd

In fury blaze—

Agrip.

Oh! how with this I'm charm'd!

How sweet and pleasant 'tis to me to find,

In what I love, such constancy of mind!

Whilst such an object of my flame I have,

The God brings Balsom to the wound he gave.

Prince of a heart so faithful and so true,

The Conquests only to a Scepter due:

A Soul that is with such endowments blest

May claim dominion in a lovers brest.

Mez.

But know, this heart so faithful and so true,

Will never be made subject, Sir, to you:

For she'll increase her hatred with your love.

Agrip.

Sweet Prince! your error do's my pittie move.

The thoughts she will on me throw all her hate,

Do's to your flame some flattring hopes create.

And you presume, if she in anger do

Grow fierce to me, she must grow mild to you.

[Page] But, Sir, this path I to my wishes know;

There wants no more, but when I'll have it so.

Such ways I have her favour to procure,

The hate you dream of is not half so sure.

That you may know how weak is your pretence,

My pittie hazards, Sir, this confidence.

And for that kind advice g'in me by you,

I thought there something in my turn was due.

SCENE III.

Mezentius, Faustus.

Mez.

Faustus, dost my misfortune comprehend,

And whither the Kings haughty threats may tend?

Faust.

He has but said too much, to let you know

That with his love he will his power show:

That where he cannot by addresses gain,

His headstrong will do's prompt him to constrain.

Where prayers prevail not, he will use command,

And force the Princess to give him her hand.

Thus of your Mistress he will you bereave.

But she comes forth,—'tis fit I take my leave.

SCENE IV.

Lavinia, Mezentius.

Lav.

Sir, have you been of my new Torments told?

To sigh for me the Tyrant's now grown bold:

These wretched eyes bear in my grief two parts,

Yet shame to please the wickedst of all hearts.

[Page]Mez.

Nay, Madam, he to be your spouse pretends;

And flatt'ry failing, to use force intends.

Lav.

Ah barbarous Traytor! but, Sir, if't be true

That love has g'in me any part in you,

Can you abandon me in this estate,

And leave me to the power of him I hate?

Mez.

Though that pure flame which me your vassal made

Hath ever been with hate and scorn repaid,

My heart unto its passion is so true,

I'll fly through death it self to succour you.

Try my obedience then by your command.

Lav.

It is the Tyrant's head that I demand—

Ha!—start not—If your help I cannot have,

I shall find ways, Sir, his attempts to brave,

To baffle all the worst of Tyranny.

Know that I am experienc'd how to die:

And 'gainst whatever Tyrants dare assail

Death is a remedy can never fail.

Mez.

No, rather live, to take from me and Fate

That Tyrant's head exacted by your hate:

At least, instead of his, you shall have mine:

To be gainsaid, Love's power is too divine.

If I did start, that life to sacrifice

Which dutie binds me to, and nature ties;

The least I could to blood and dutie pay,

Was at the first some trouble to betray.

But to that passion do's my heart dispose,

In vain the sacredst rights themselves oppose:

You in my heart do bear the highest sway,

And Loves laws are the first I should obey.

Lav.

Sir, in this promise of his death I find

Something allays the trouble of my mind:

Though I all service have refus'd from you,

This I receive with welcomes to it due.

[Page] Not for my dangers it may disengage;

I neither fear the Tyrant's love nor rage:

But all herein that precious seems or good,

Is the revenging my Agrippa's blood.

My vows were all accomplisht, could I boast

I had this Victim offered to his Ghost.

For midst all ills, a double good 'twould prove,

To slay a Tyrant, and revenge my Love.

Mez.

Ah, Madam! I perceive by this I must

Be still despised for my Rivalls dust:

Whilst to your aid I dedicate this Arm,

You fear lest some weak hopes my Soul should charm.

Well, Cruel, well, I'll hazard your defence

Without exacting any recompence.

Since in my heart your love did get this sway,

'Tis without hopes accustom'd to obey.

But you must give me leave to boast this pride,

That your revenge you to my love confide,

And that your heart once felt the tenderness

To offer up some vows to my success:

The worst of Chances cannot then deter,

Whilst to your pleasure I my life prefer:

And should ill fortune my attempts pursue,

I shall be happy when I die for you.

I'll go, and of my friends implore the aid.

Lav.

Take heed of trusting, lest you be betray'd.

'Bove all, assurance in Tyrhenus have;

He has an interest in the death I crave.

I see him yonder; but I being here,

His head he hazards if he should draw neer.

I'll leave you therefore to consult the way

How to make this to all a happy day.

SCENE V.

[Page]

Tyrhenus, Mezentius.

Mez.

Come, see how in your griefs a part I bear,

And for their ease a remedy prepare.

Tyrh.

How, Sir? can you restore my son to breath?

Mez.

I cannot; but we may revenge his death.

There's nothing should a greater trouble give

To you, than that you see his murderer live.

But now that mine do with your wishes meet,

They'll bring you all that in revenge is sweet.

Tyrh.

Can you think this, Sir, gainst your Soveraign?

Mez.

To circumvent you, you may think I feign;

But you'll recant your errour when you hear

He'd snatch from me all that my Soul holds dear.

And when Love in our hearts has gain'd command,

We abhor all do's its carrier withstand.

Tyrh.

Your unjust Rival I with you condemn;

'Tis fit that flame should fatal prove to him:

And yet his blood which through your veins does move,

Might stifle this extravagance of love.

Mez.

Those flames within our brests must needs be cold,

Where Nature do's with Love proportion hold.

Love do's all fetters but it's own disdain;

Kindred and blood against it strive in vain.

When first the Princess me her Champion made,

Some little tremblings did my Soul invade;

But thinking he to her was sacrifiz'd,

They vanish'd, and all duties I despis'd:

My heart, that knew it, did depend on her,

Soon those did to all other chains prefer.

[Page] When what we love craves to be understood,

In vain we listen to the cries of blood.

The object lov'd rules in the Lover's brest,

And by its laws all others are supprest.

Tyrh.

The danger, Sir, of such an enterprize,

The fear of a discovery or surprize;

The Kings revenge, who never will forgive,

May yet to your resolves some trouble give.

Mez.

Think not my Soul can be betray'd by fear,

Love having got such vast dominion there.

In vain those Chills my flames strive to asswage;

I think what object do's my Arm engage.

And how should fear gain place within my Soul,

When that God rules there, do's all Gods controul?

Tyrh.

You, Sir, may judge in the assault you make,

What thoughts I ought to have, what part to take:

But since Kings do Gods Image bear, and he

Who them assails fights with the Deity;

Sure that strict awe which to the Heavens we owe,

May stop your hand, ready to give the blow.

Though earthly Terrours you as Bugbears prize,

You can't the Thunder of the Gods despise,

Which do's the great'st of Criminals appall.

Mez.

The guilty do not still by Lightning fall.

When Gods with Thunder would the Earth affright,

The Bolt, alas! do's on th'unhappy light:

For when it rends the skies, and roars from thence,

Chance oftner is its guide than Providence.

But for the Crime, if a revenge to take,

Th' incensed heavens o're my head should shake;

If all the Gods against me should conspire,

And anger make them arm their hands with fire;

Yet whilst a beauty that has so much charm

Inspires my blood, and do's my courage warm,

Even all those Gods themselves would Bugbears be,

And shaking heaven it self should not shake me.

[Page] Only do you the part due to you take,

And show what you dare do for a sons sake.

Tyrh.

Oh, Sir, this interest touches me most neer:

Knew you but how—

[weeps.

Mez.

It do's too well appear.

Knowing how tender your concernments were,

I thought it just that you should have a share

In this revenge; and did resolve to owe

To your advice the guidance of my blow.

Tyrh.

I to your trust do this assurance give,

Your confidence has made my hopes revive;

And I had sure despair'd, had you to me

Deny'd a part in this conspiracie.

Mez.

I'll leave the choice of time and place to you:

My friends are ready, powerful, and true;

Who on my orders would the world lay wast,

Tyrh.

'Bove all, take heed of making too much hast.

The King, Sir, hath his Army hither call'd;

The Fort is guarded, and the City wall'd;

So that on failor, or discovery,

There can for us no hopes of safety be.

These dangers 'mongst our friends may doubts create,

And one mans fear expose us all to fate.

This hindrance cannot last for many days,

For more than ten the Army hardly stays:

And our Conspirators, who then will know

Themselves the stronger, will the bolder grow.

In great designs fit choice of time must sway.

Mez.

I do with you consent to the delay;

And always shall think your advice the best,

Rul'd by experience and by interest.

In the mean time, let us our friends prepare:

I'll send you mine, and judge you what they are.

It is your care that I rely upon.

Tyrh.

What e're a Father can do for a son,

[Page] You may be sure of; and if Fate prove true,

I shall do things not thought of yet by you.

The End of the Third ACT.

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.

Lavinia, Mezentius.

Lav.

SIr, what unhappy News is this you tell!

Tyrhenus made a prisoner?—

Mez.

It may well

Surprize you, Madam, as it has done me;

For with him all our hopes imprisoned be:

In his restraint our chief relyance dies.

He many friends experienc'd has, and wise;

He my close partners in the plot has seen,

And by his Counsels so gain'd their esteem,

That as if Courage from his breath distill'd,

He all their brests hath with fresh boldness fill'd.

But parting from us, Atis, as 'tis said,

Met him, and to the Fort him prisoner led.

Lav.

How do's one crime another still engage!

My Lovers blood whetted the Tyrants rage;

Which from that time so sharp and keen remains,

He'll wreak the rest on't in his fathers veins.

A swift assistance now our hopes must stead.

Go—let the Tyrant's death secure that head:

And by your blows preventing his design,

Save him the horrour of so foul a crime.

[Page] He has liv'd but too long; a Tyrants fate

As always wisht for, always seems too late.

Run then, and since your friends wait but your word,

Do not to them a time of doubt afford.

These great attempts do too much hazard run,

When we allow space for reflexion.

Think but what fears Tyrhenus death may raise:

Danger and doubt the greatest heart allays.

Mez.

Madam, I'll fly your pleasure to obey;

Nor will I now dispute for a delay,

But slighting reasons might this hast withstand,

Think it enough that it is your command.

Whilst the King pays his vows to Victory,

He shall himself to you a Victim be:

And by your eyes, those sacred lights, I swear

To bring his head here, or to leave mine there.

But here he comes.

[The Guards appear.

Lav.

I'll fly.

Mez.

Constrain your hate:

Now he's so nigh, your flight will be too late.

And thus in your revenge you gain a share,

To stop him here, whilst I his death prepare.

SCENE II.

Agrippa, Lavinia, Atis, Train.

Agrip.

Do I then, Princess, yet those beauties see?

Alas! that my joy should your torment be;

That all my faithful love, and all my pain,

Dare only hope for hatred and disdain!

And yet my flame is grown so bright and high,

In vain I strive to keep it from your eye.

Small ills we may dissemble and conceal;

But that love's weak, do's not it self reveal.

[Page] I know this rash attempt must draw on me

Hatred, contempt, disdain, and crueltie;

That all your anger you will on me heap:

Yet at that price my love will still be cheap.

Summon your fury then.—But is it true,

That I see charming Tears distil from you?

My Soul is at this tenderness agast:

May I believ't?

Lav.

Yes, cruel one, thou may'st.

My heart do's with its firm resolves dispence:

I thought thy presence would my Soul incense,

And make my brest with horrour overflow;

Yet seeing thee, my thoughts do tender grow,

As though all hatred from my mind were fled.

Agrip.

Can then Agrippa thence be banished?

And with your favour can you make me blest?

Lav.

Thinkst thou such crimes dare harbour in my brest?

Treason like thine, my love and faith must sway,

When I that generous Heroe so betray,

That to his spotless ashes I prefer.

The stain'd addresses of his Murderer.

But lest thou think my Tears from thence did flow,

I to my love this explanation owe:

My Lover did so much resemble thee,

Thy presence do's renew his memory;

Bringing those smiles were once to me so sweet,

Thou did'st my Tears, instead of anger meet.

That Image did this tenderness create,

Stifled my rage, and did suspend my hate.

My heart that to those Charms engag'd would be

In favour of him, almost favour'd thee;

And in those features first surpriz'd my mind,

I that assault did from my passion find.

Hatred nor Fury could not gain a part,

But Love alone was ruler in my heart.

[Page] But now that love which all my Soul possest,

Stirs up both hate and fury in my brest;

Which justly blushing to have staid so long,

Are by that short suspension grown more strong.

Thou soon shalt find an anger so severe,

Its great concernment shall in it appear;

And know that fury cannot be withstood,

Which is inspired by a Lover's blood.

My eyes shall dart such vengeance upon you.

Agrip.

Madam, I know this to my crime is due.

But though your eyes with all your hate you arm,

In all their anger I shall find a Charm.

Accuse me, scorn me, I will not complain,

But love you without hopes of love again.

Whilst you impute Agrippa's death to me,

I cannot murmur at your cruelty;

Nor press your heart that passion to remove,

Which as it heightens, do's increase my love.

Lav.

Did not my Tears then to my Griefs suffice,

But thou must yet find Charms in these sad eyes?

Must they behold a Tyrant's Soul inclin'd

To that bright flame once grac'd a Heroe's mind?

But ah! how cruel do's thy love appear,

Cruel to him that was to me so dear?

Whilst his pure flame did by thy crime become

A fatal Torch to light him to his Tomb.

May yet revenging Heaven make thy love

At least as fatal as Agrippa's prove:

May all the Furies new inventions try

To punish thee; and may the aiding Sky

Mischiefs like rain upon thy head distil,

Till thou become the Quintessence of ill.

I will implore those Gods thy Crimes abuse.

Agrip.

Press not the Gods for what they will refuse.

They know our good, and of us take such care,

Believe me, Madam, you your vows may spare,

[Page] Though I with you that generous Faith approve

Appears in this remembrance of your love,

Yet grief perhaps has to your heart deny'd

The thoughts what glories do in Thrones reside.

Come, you have mourn'd too much. Try to believe

Those comforts which an offered Crown may give.

Scepters are Charms unto the greatest grief,

And from the Throne all evils seek relief.

Lav.

Disdain'd I not a Scepter in thy hand,

Agrippa's shade do's so my Soul command,

I should with more contentment choose to be

His Spouse in death, than set on Thrones with thee.

Agrip.

Am I that object of your hatred made,

That you slight so much glory for a shade?

Rare president! which no Example hath:

To that which is not, you extend your faith.

What heart e're was to grief so given o're,

But it forgot a love that was no more?

Cease must the fiercest fire that ever burn'd,

When that which feeds it is to ashes turn'd.

Lav.

Learn then from me, what glory do's inspire:

Brests once inflamed with a just desire,

My Loves cold ashes in their frosty urn

With it's first ardor make my heart still burn,

Forcing my sighs nights silence to invade,

And 'mongst the Ghosts pay tribute to his shade.

Nothing can a well-kindled flame remove:

Who can desist, sure never well did love.

But, Tyrant, know, my Soul the power hath

To loose it's Lover, yet preserve it's Faith.

In worthy minds, where death an Empire gains,

In vain death strives to break it's firmer chains.

—Would Heaven Agrippa had but known what now

I do with Tears and Sighs to thee avow.

But ah! the force of an imperious pride

Made me this love too obstinately hide.

[Page] Whilst my heart burnt, I studied to disdain,

And knew so well my passion to constrain,

That at his death he did not understand

He o're my Soul had gain'd the least command.

Why did you not, you Gods, this truth unfold?

Make him foresee these tears—

Agrip.

Ah Princess hold!—

So sweet a Charm do's set my Soul on fire.

Bring here Tyrhenus, Atis,—you retire.

Atis and the whole Train withdraw.

No longer now can I my self constrain:

For love will speak, that knows not how to feign.

Charg'd with such loads, this secret do's appear

Too weighty for my feeble heart to bear.

Cease then, of love and faith thou sole delight,

To seek Agrippa in eternal night;

'Twas Tiberinus who alone was drown'd,

And you in me that happy love have found.

Lav.

In you? oh Heavens! how can this be true?

Who can assure it me?

Agrip.

I see you do

Suspect me of Imposture, and you may

Have cause to do't, from my too long delay.

Th' advice is justly too suspitious grown,

To have you credit it from me alone.

My Father shall the truth of all unfold:

You may give faith to what by him is told.

I will oblige him now to let you know,

I this disguise to his injunctions owe.

Justice will urge him to it, when he finds

Fate cannot part two love-contracted minds.

In the mean time, to know me well, you may

Search your own heart.—

Lav.

I fear 'twill me betray.

Too weakly do's it this surprizal bear,

To trust to it—

Agrip.

My Father do's appear.

[Page] From whom what I am will be better known.

Lav.

If you would please me, strive to be his Son.

SCENE III.

Agrippa, Lavinia, Tyrhenus.

Agrip.

The Princess, Sir, knows now of my disguise;

Having first made a sign to Atis to retire.

This action I expect should you surprise.

But you foretold my love would make me known:

The secret for my heart too strong was grown.

Her powerful Charms have on my dutie won;

I have told all—

Tyrh.

What Sir?

Agrip.

That I'm your Son.

Tyrh.

You, Sir, my Son? you're to your self unjust:

My Son is dead; do not disturb his dust.

Alas! 'twas by your hand—

Agrip.

Your cares are vain.

A Secret told, can't be recall'd again.

Acknowledge then that in the rapid wave

Unhappy Tiberinus found a grave:

That favour'd by our likeness, I grew bold

T' assume the Regal power now I hold:

That the Kings body from the floods you drew,

And paid the tears to a Sons ashes due.

In fine, that to avoid suspect, and learn

Such enterprizes as might do me harm,

You with my Murder did the King accuse.

Tyrh.

I know the forfeit, Sir, if I refuse

This base acknowledgment, and ready stand

To offer up my head at your command.

[Page] —Betray my Sons blood for his Murderers sake?

Agrip.

How, Sir?—

Tyrh.

Your anger sha'not make me shake.

You know me ill, in thinking I can be

Guilty of such inhumane Infamy:

The small remain of blood runs in these veins,

Shall ne're be purchas'd with such barbarous stains.

Agrip.

Why should you cruelly with cunning strive

This good and faithful Princess to deceive?

Have not her eyes, of tears the current made,

Yet to your Son sufficient tribute paid?

Tyrh.

Too well your sence herein to me appears;

You would not let him honour him with tears,

Nor suffer that a heart so generous send

Sighs to the Tomb of her unhappy friend.

Is't not enough y'ave rob'd him of his breath,

But that you must pursue him after death?

Cannot his ashes from your hate be free?

Nor Urns protect him from your cruelty?

Forbear, great Sir, an envy so unjust;

And having had his blood, spare to his dust

This honour, that a heart do it bemoan,

Which Love has destin'd to those sighs alone.

Agrip.

Let then that generous heart be disabus'd

Which I possess, while 'tis to me refus'd:

That heart preserves for me so pure a flame,

It disdains Scepters for my only name:

That heart in which do's all my bliss consist,

Loves gift; but that my Father do's resist

My Father, for whose Son I can't be known.

Tyrh.

Why should I for my Son his Murderer own?

His death, alas! Heaven knows to be as true,

As that he did receive that death from you.

I, Sir, a witness was, you know it well,

When stab'd by you into these arms he fell:

[Page] His bubling blood upon his Father flew.

But, Madam, hear a proof of's love to you.

Grieving to loose a Son so dear, I su'd

That but one spark of life might be renew'd;

But I in vain unto the Fates had pray'd,

Till naming you, his wandring Spirits stay'd.

And though his eyes, clos'd for eternal night,

Did seem to take their last adieu of light;

Yet at the sound of that adored name,

Love broke deaths vail, and opened them again.

His blood and life, already slipt away,

Return'd, and to his flame the Fates gave way:

And now afresh for you his spirit burn'd,

And 'twas for you if his own death he mourn'd.

Until the King, at these last gasps incens'd,

With all the laws of Piety dispens'd,

And 'mongst the waves his panting body threw.

—Ah Princess! pardon tears that are so due.

I can no more—my heart with grief opprest,

Only with sighs and sobs must tell the rest.

My mov'd blood passage to my voice denies,

But silencing my tongue, speaks by my eyes.

Lav.

Vouchsafe thou then, dear shade, to let me bear

In this thy Fathers grief a Lovers share:

And if thou in those shady walks approve

Of these last tributes both of blood and love,

Pardon, dear Ghost, those troubles which my mind

Did in th' addresses of thy Murderer find.

Those sweet transports, those thoughts I did conceive,

When likeness made me him for thee receive.

For now that from thy Fathers mouth I know

To whom my love, to whom my hate I owe;

My reviv'd rage such vengeance shall create,

My errour and thy blood to expiate,

That hellish Furies shall amazed stand.

For not the Gods alone shall lend their hand,

[Page] But that my hatred may more full appear—

Looking on Agrippa.

Alas! but, Sir, if still your Son he were.

Tyrh.

Disclaim that Errour which would you betray.

Agrip.

Ah, Madam! rather hear what Love would say.

Why should the faith of such a Witness be

Suspected only when he speaks for me?

Whilst yet his voice finds favour in your heart.

Tyrh.

Doubt still a Witness that has so much art.

Agrip.

Will you such cruel Maximes then pursue,

And not believe?

Lav.

Alas! what shall I do?

Tyrh.

Why can you yet be doubtful in your choice,

When you have heard so much from Nature's voice?

Cannot my troubled Soul your Sences touch?

Have I too little said?

Lav.

Y'ave said too much:

Your passion do's too certainly deprive

Me of that sweetness hope and doubt would give.

Your Son's too surely dead, in vain I raise

These flattring doubts against what Nature says.

Yet are these doubts so sweet, my Love would try,

And, if it durst, to Nature give the ly.

Tyrh.

Whate're the King says, be you well assur'd.

Lav.

Alas! his presence cannot be endur'd;

Looking on Agrippa.

It so resembles that which charm'd my Soul,

It do's my anger and my hate controul.

And though this you on my belief have won,

That he is an Impostor, not your Son;

Yet when I cast my eyes on his, and there

The Charms of my Agrippa do appear,

Spite of my self, you, and his treach'rous wrong,

That aspect is for all belief too strong.

Tyrh.

Fly then; and if your reason be too weak—

Agrip.

Ah, Madam! stay, and do but hear me speak.

Lav.

Whoe're thou art, 'tis cruel thus to strive

To all my sorrows an increase to give.

[Page]Agrip.

Will you not hear me then?

Lav.

I dare not stay,

Lest to my eyes my heart should yield the day.

Agrip.

I will not leave you till I make you know.

SCENE IV.

Tyrhenus, Agrippa.

Tyrh.

Stay, and remember the respect you owe.

If you're my Son, your dutie pay to me.

Agrip.

And yet you will not, Sir, my Father be.

Tyrh.

There too much danger did in it appear:

Not to be so, was to be Father here;

And since kind heavens took the care that none

Can Witness your disguise but me alone,

The Obligation they have on us laid

Is, that we be not by our selves betray'd.

'Tis then much better I my Son disown,

Than knowing him, hazard his Life and Throne,

And I would wish (to banish all our fear)

That as to all, chang'd to your self you were.

Then for a Crown so fearlesly enjoy'd,

My heart could leap, and its device applaud.

Think where your weakness did us now reduce,

You to the Princess should more caution use,

And not your life to so much hazard throw.

You promis'd it.—

Agrip.

In vain you tell me so.

Who can the passion of his Soul conceal,

When th' object lov'd do's mutual love reveal?

Flattring my self, I thought I could abide,

That she her love under her hate should hide.

[Page] But I in that mistaken hate did find

Charms yet conceal'd from the experienc'd mind;

There I that sweetness found so rare and new,

To be assur'd of love from one so true;

So true, that death cannot her heart remove,

But to the grave she do's extend her love.

Tyrh.

This was a bliss that might your thoughts content.

Agrip.

Whilst she enjoy'd no share, 'twas punishment.

For when a beauteous object charms a heart,

Can that be bliss in which it bears no part?

Could I behold my Princess troubled mind,

And in her sufferings contentment find?

This were to brand my love with crueltie.

No; Lovers joys must ever mutual be.

Tyrh.

I cannot but lament so fair a flame,

Yet for some time you must constrain the same:

For both your safety and my own require

That you should put a check to your desire.

Mezentius is conspiring to deprive

You of your Crown, the Princess, and your life.

To make then this constraint the easier seem,

By it your Crown, Mistriss, and life redeem.

With him are joyn'd Seranus, Corineus,

Volcens, Antenor, and young Hioneus;

All discontents, among the people lov'd,

By several motives to your mine mov'd.

Thanks to the credit my feign'd grief has got,

Mezentius makes me Master of the plot:

He without doubt will speak to you for me,

Dispute not, but to his request agree.

I for six days have the design deferr'd,

In which let all defences be prepar'd;

To the Conspirators give such employs

May send them hence with honour and no noise.

[Page] Feign some advice to make the Army stay,

And make them sure by giving them their pay;

But treat Mezentius with a high respect,

That your esteem may banish his suspect:

At last let him with silence be confin'd,

And in some strong place—what disturbs your mind?

Agrip.

This practice, Sir, a kind of trouble brings.

Tyrh.

Trouble should be below the thoughts of Kings.

It is your death Mezentius do's design;

Though he mistakes, it lessens not his crime.

For if we judge by what he understands,

In sacred blood he would imbrue his hands.

The heavens do you his punisher ordain,

And think it fit you in his stead should reign:

Let no vain scruples then your Soul affright,

Dive not into their secrets nor your right.

If seated in this high degree you find

Some doubtful crimes perplex your troubled mind,

Sit steddie in the Throne, and do not fear

But that the best of Advocates is there.

Howe're we come to mount to this high place,

The rise is just, to fall is the disgrace.

No King is faulty but by base discent;

Who always reigns, is always innocent.

Reign then,—ah Son!—did you but understand

The glorious State to be above Command.

Agrip.

Ah Sir! did you but know the sweets of love.

Tyrh.

I hear the steps of some that this way move.

SCENE V.

[Page]

Tyrhenus, Agrippa, Lausus, Atis, Train.

Tyrh.

Well Sir—with all my blood content your hate.

Lausus to Agrippa.

All's ready in the Temple, the Priests wait

Only your Highness presence.

Agrippa to Atis.

Go then see

Your Prisoner back, and in safe custody.

Tyrh.

Out Barb'rous Tyrant!—

Atis.

Oh Sir! don't you fear,]

Lest he should these reproaches over-hear.

Tyrh.

Fear cannot gain a place within that brest

That is intirely by despair possest.

The End of the Fourth ACT.

ACT THE FIFTH.

[Page]

SCENE I.

Faustus, Lavinia, Camilla.

Faust.

WHat terrour, Madam, do's your heart surprize

Just in the height of all our enterprize!

The Prince do's with amazement understand

He's summon'd here by your express command.

Lav.

Faustus, I sent for him, and 'twas to pray

That he would yet the fatal stroke delay.

I have weigh'd all the dangers that attend

On rash attempts, and therefore now did send

To scape the hazard in this hast appears.

Faust.

Madam, the Prince was doubtful of your fears:

But being in the Temple with the King,

By his command I this assurance bring,

That to advance, and make your vengeance sweet,

The Heavens with your intentions seem to meet.

Never had great design a nobler face:

The Prince has brought his followers to the place;

With them Tyrhenus partizans are join'd,

And all those friends in your revenge combin'd,

Who with an eagerness of zeal aspire

By th' Tyrants death t' accomplish your desire.

Nor can he 'gainst their force find a support:

'Tis true, we both the Army and the Fort

Might justly fear; but Tiberinus dead,

Mezentius is of both those powers the head:

[Page] The Citizens are to our party sure,

Which do's confirm our enterprize secure:

For e're the Camp or Fort advice can gain,

The Tyrant overpower'd will be slain;

And he once gone, the Prince assumes the sway,

Whose right the Chieftains trembling will obey.

All smiles on us; and when the King has done,

Our bloodyer Sacrifice will be begun.

The streets along are with our forces lin'd;

But at Tyrhenus Palace 'tis design'd

To give the blow, that all may know he falls

A Victim to Agrippa's Funerals.

Who e're observe the freedom which he shows,

Would say he gives himself up to our blows:

Such high respect he shows the Prince, that he

No sooner askt Tyrhenus liberty,

But with a gracious smile the King reply'd,

What he requested could not be deny'd.

Lav.

Tyrhenus being free, we better may

Till we consult him the Assault delay.

All things affright me now, and I can find

Nothing but death in my presaging mind—

—Ah! if to satisfie my cruel rage—

Go—let the Prince's love his stay engage.

Make hast—

Faust.

Madam, at your command I go;

But fear the greatest hast will be too slow:

All's ready now—and at the Temple-gate

The Ministers of your revenge do wait,

That death so justly merited to give.

Lav.

Run yet, and for some time his life reprieve.

Cam.

What strange disorder in your mind appears?

Whence come these troubled interrupted fears?

What can we think of them? unless the King

By some sweet charm—

Lav.

You may think any thing.

[Page] But go, and to your thoughts that trouble save:

I with Tyrhenus must some conference have.

SCENE II.

Lavinia, Tyrhenus.

Lav

Come, Sir, and if you can, disperse that cloud

Of grief and anguish do's my sences shroud:

A secret voice within my breast I find,

That strives to stifle my vindictive mind.

My heart at once raging and calm appears,

And all my thoughts are become Mutineers.

When first 'twas told me that the King did love,

Hate and disdain in every vein did move;

And thus I arm'd my self—resolv'd to be

[Shews a Dagger.

Mistriss of his or my own destiny.

But at his sight, an over-powring charm

Suppress'd my rage, and did withhold my arm:

That very object did my hate controul,

And all my rage flew trembling from my soul.

My heart respected in that Tyrants face

Those features did my lov'd Agrippa grace:

A Fathers grief had surely else prevail'd,

And check'd that tenderness my brest assail'd.

But all that you could act or urge, in spite

Of reason, vanish'd at that charming sight.

Now let his absence that advantage give,

If he be not your Son, my hate revive:

And if he has no interest in you,

Restore that anger to his crime is due.

For so his presence did affect my mind,

Your words were blown away with their own wind.

[Page]Tyrh.

Madam, I all this trouble did foresee;

Therefore no sooner gain'd I liberty,

But fearless of the Tyrants threats, I came

To disabuse, and rid you of this pain.

Who sees what sorrow on my soul has don,

Cannot misdoubt the murder of my Son:

Such piercing anguish cannot be constrain'd,

Nor such o'repressing grief be only feign'd.

Contented Nature, did he live and reign,

Could not from the discovery refrain.

For blood, like love, will those transports obey,

Which through all checks must sometime force their way,

But to convince you there do's yet remain

An Argument than this more sure and plain,

That ardour wherewith I his death pursue,

Which before him I durst not urge to you,

Mezentius may a witness be, who knows

How I did the Conspirators dispose;

Their brests with hate and emnity inspire,

And made their thoughts take fuel from my fire.

Your self can tell what ways I did invent

To gain the heart of every discontent;

Joyn'd in their plots; made my self chief of all,

And offer'd vows he by this hand might fall.

And can you, Madam, when all this is done,

Fondly sermise that he is still my Son,

He whom I have design'd a sacrifice?

Lav.

No, Sir, this to my quiet do's suffice.

T' asswage my passion, and release my pain,

With joy I this assurance entertain;

And from my Soul, and from my sence I drive

Whate're to it can opposition give.

My heart no more shall listen to deceit,

No more shall love its flatt'ring charms repeat:

For in a Fathers word less cause I find

Of fear or doubt, than in my Love that's blind.

[Page] Natures consent do's so my thoughts confirm,

The Tyrant seems to live too long a term:

And 'twould my highest satisfaction be,

To take his life, has taken all from me;

That bloody barbarous assassinate.

Tyrh.

Would to God, Madam, 'twere thought fit by fate

Propitious to a Fathers vows, that now

We were prepared to have 'gin the blow:

I by such active speed allay should find

To all those torments that afflict my mind.

But haste in such designs too dangerous were.

The Fort's well guarded, and the Army near.

We yet must languish, we must yet delay.

Lav.

Be comforted, I have made this the day.

Tyrh.

How! without farther thoughts?

Lav.

In fear for you,

I did command they should the plot pursue.

And you unto this happy day will owe

All those delights that vengeance can bestow.

Tyrh.

Let's yet the danger of this haste prevent.

Lav.

In vain to stay it, I already sent.

SCENE III.

Faustus, Lavinia, Tyrhenus.

Lavinia to Faustus.

Did you in time unto the Prince arrive?

Faust.

To your commands I did obedience give:

But, Madam, you are so oblig'd to Fate,

That 'twas my happiness to come too late.

[Page]Tyrh.

Ye Gods! what do I hear—

—Lav.

Oh noble deed!

Relate each circumstance.—

—Faust.

There was no need

I shou'd to th' Temple go; that sacred ground

They had already quitted: and I found

The Tyrant nigh unto the fatal place

Which forth' assault before designed was,

Charg'd by the Prince, hopeless, and out of breath;

But though despairing, yet outfacing death:

Till coming to Tyrhenus Palace near,

Spite of our force he threw himself in there,

And whilst we by his small but valiant train

Were stopt, till o're their Corps we made a lane,

Fearful what dangers popular rage might bring,

The gates were strongly barr'd upon the King,

And he alone—

Tyrh.

How!—scap'd?

—Faust.

We all like you,

At that sad instant pale and fearful grew,

Doubtful both of the Army and the Fort:

But speed we knew must be our sole support;

And therefore forcing now our entrance were,

When on the top Albina did appear.

Her countenance did some affright betray,

But with her hand she seem'd to bid us stay.

We soon did to her kind request agree,

Respectful of her Sex and her degree;

While to Mezentius she made this address:

I hope this great revenge won't seem the less;

Nor can I think the Princess judge it so,

'Cause she a part of it to me do's owe.

Her generous temper rather will approve

Nature should have a share as well as Love.

Whilst here the King thought to prevent his fate,

He only did his fall precipitate:

[Page] For by my orders he receiv'd his doom,

And to my brothers Ghost is now become

A sacrifice. 'Tis done—and he no more.

Tyrh.

Oh Gods!—

—Faust.

At this an universal roar

Of strangely-mixed and tumultuous cryes

Did with loud Eccho's pierce the yielding Skyes.

All do admire Albina, and the Prince

Stay's but to bring the Tyrants head from thence:

You ask't it of him, and he thinks it meet

That he alone should lay it at your feet.

Mean while he thought convenient to employ

Me to prepare your heart for so much joy.

Lav.

So—now those Gods to whom so oft addrest

Our vows have been, have granted our request.

This day revenges all our former harms,

And in the Tyrants blood we taste those charms.—

—But what strange trouble do's your looks invade?

Where rather grief then joy do's sit display'd.

Tyrh.

Alas, my fainting spirits are quite gon.

Lav.

For the Kings death?

—Tyrh.

No, Madam—'twas my Son.

Lav.

Your Son, Sir?—

—Tyrh.

Yes, too sure I find it here:

The cryes of blood make it too well appear.

Nature forbids more fictions to create;

She speaks her self.

Lav.

Why do's she speak so late?

Is it then true I've lost the thing I love,

And must my self th' unhappy agent prove?

Crimes which I would pursue, become my guilt;

And blood I would revenge, my self have spilt.

So oft I urg'd, so oft his death implor'd,

Till heav'n did with my ardent vows accord,

Until the wearied Gods in anger sent

My own desires, for my own punishment.

[Page] Ah! how are their denyals useful oft!

And they too cruel when they are too soft!

Their dearest interest mortals thus insnare,

By tiring Heaven with too tedious prayer.

But if my Lover thus hath murdered bin,

[To Tyrhenus.

To you alone I must impute the sin:

'Twas his imposed name did me deceive;

Loving him dead, I hated him alive,

And did that life so dearly lov'd pursue:

But treacherous Father, all proceeds from you.

Of all these wrongs you me an Agent made,

And on the faith of blood was love betray'd.

By your assurance I thus blind became;

You poisoned all the ardour of my flame,

And cruelly, for an unknown design,

Turn'd purest love into a baneful crime.

What have you, wretched Polititian, won

By this ambition has destroy'd your Son?

Did not my love to him my Soul command,

I'd carve on you my vengeance with this hand.

But, cruel man, go render the thanks due

To your Sons blood, which I respect in you.

Tyrh.

When thus a Father has destroy'd his Son,

He has enough affliction of his own,

And needs not your reproach—Agrippa slain!

There wants no torment to increase my pain.

Alas! poor Son; whate're I did contrive

With hopes to save, is turn'd against thy life;

And my paternal love by zeal betray'd,

Is of thy murder the Abettor made,

Forcing thy Sister and thy Love to be

Partners at once in the same crime with me.

But be it fault or fortune, thou art gon;

Offers to kill himself. Lavinia stops him.

It only rests, I follow thee my Son.

Lav.

Stay, let us yet this satisfaction have,

To draw Mezentius with us to the grave.

[Page] He will deserve his fate, for having bin

The instrument of my mistaken Sin.

Tyrh.

Since cruel Fate spar'd not my hapless boy,

I wish I could with him the world destroy.

'Bove all, my daughter may my anger fear.

SCENE IV.

Albina, Tyrhenus, Lavinia, Camilla, Julia.

Tyrh.

Unhappy wretch! how dar'st thou here appear?

Alb.

I come to throw my self, Sir, at your feet,

To beg your anger and your fury meet.

Remorse of Conscience will not let me fly.

Tyrh.

Know'st thou th' effects then of thy cruelty,

How that by thee we are all wretched made?

Lav.

Know'st thou that thou a brother hast betray'd?

Alb.

Brother and duty both I know have bin

Betray'd by th' too great fondness of my sin,

His conquering Murderer.—but he comes here.

Tyrh.

Against him let us all our fury bear.

SCENE V.

Agrippa, Tyrhenus, Lavinia, Albinia, Camilla, Julia, Train.

Agrip.

I small advantage shall by conquest gain,

If you, Sir, and the Princess still remain

My enemies.—

[Page]—Tyrh.

Do's my Agrippa live?

From what blest deity do we receive

This happy grace?—

—Lav.

What God can be so good

As to restore my love?

Agrip.

Instinct of blood

The Guardian-Angel was that did inspire

My Sisters brest, and blew loves secret fire.

Alb.

Are you my brother then, Sir?—

Tyrh.

Yes, blest Child;

And whilst thou thought thou wer't by love beguil'd,

Thou art by that which thou a crime dost call,

Become the instrument to save us all.

Lav.

But yet I cannot banish all my fear,

Until I do the whole relation hear.

His double death has such impressions made,

That still I do believe my Love a shade.

Tyrh.

He will himself that satisfaction give,

Which may your hopes from their dark cell reprieve.

Agrippa to Lavinia.

Since 'twas your orders arm'd the Princess hand,

And the assault was made by your command,

I with some trouble, Madam, did dispose

My self at first those orders to oppose.

Even in these broils of death my heart did still

Prompt me to a submission to your will.

But when I thought upon your love, and knew

That 'twas mistake made you my life pursue,

Respect to you determin'd soon the strife,

And for my love I sought to save my life.

And being to my Fathers Palace near,

I for a refuge cast my self in there;

When fearing dangers that on Tumults wait,

To stop the flood the servants shut the gate,

[Page] And made me theirs. My Sister who in me

Believ'd she did her faithless lover see,

Advanc'd, as first I thought, in rage. to do

Whate're her errour might incline her to.

But Love appearing, spite of her mistake,

Did sleeping Nature in my favour wake:

She thought 'twas Love, but Nature did not shame

To act for me, under Loves bolder name:

And after having a short Combat try'd,

Blushing, and with a trembling voice she cry'd,

Go faithless man, go save thy [...]f, and be

Only so kind to own this [...] me.

Tyrh.

Blest be thy [...] Child, whether it did move

By the impulse of [...] of [...]

Agrip.

Without [...] first words obey,

And through the [...] effort made way,

Where without opposition I arriv'd,

And quick assistance from the Guards receiv'd.

To these the Army their choice Cohorts led;

And now with numbers strengthned, I made head,

Where the Conspirators still fearless stay'd,

Secur'd by th' promise which Albina made.—

Whom my approach did so much terrify,

That having neither power to fight nor fly,

Their Chiefs I seiz'd, and let the others know

They did their lives to my compassion owe.

Lav.

What in this conflict was Mezentius fate?

Agrip.

He, and he only, did prove obstinate.

For having heard how I had 'gin command

None should offend him, but disarm his hand;

Scorning to be where you ordain'd the strife,

Indebted to a Rival for his life,

That of his vow he might acquitted be,

He gave himself those wounds design'd for me.

[Page] Princess, I die for you—was all he said.

I ran to stay him, but I found him dead:

Yet in that death express'd such love to you,

In spite of joy I almost jealous grew.

Lav.

I could lament him, if that grief could find

Possessing you a place within my mind.

Tyrhenus presenting the Crown to Lavinia.

Tyrh.

This by Mezentius death becomes your due.

Lav.

That I have right to it, I know 'tis true:

But all to it or to my right I owe,

Is, that 'tis in my power to bestow.

Thus then let all the world my faith approve,

And see your Son crown'd here by Me and Love.

FINIS.

EPILOGUE To the Lord LIEUTENANT.

[Page]

OUr Poet was e'n going the old way,

And had contriv'd how to excuse the Play,

Though well he knew the Criticks were so keen

That a submission would but wi [...] their spleen.

But in the Action, Sir, he chanc'd to spy

Something of smile and favour in your eye.

This chang'd him quite, and in a rage he tore

That Epilogue which he had wrote before:

Bidding me only say, he would not woo

Others to like what had not displeas'd you.

FINIS.

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

Agrippa, King of Alba, or, The false Tiberinus as it was several times acted with great applause before His Grace the Duke of Ormond then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, at the Theatre Royal in Dublin / from the French of Monsieur Quinault.

Dancer, John, fl. 1660-1675.

Edition statement

1675

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2005-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A56909

ID [STC]

Wing Q214

ID [STC]

ESTC R3936

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

12375814

ID [OCLC]

ocm 12375814

ID [VID]

60594

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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. A56909)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 60594)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 224:7)

Source

— Agrippa, King of Alba, or, The false Tiberinus as it was several times acted with great applause before His Grace the Duke of Ormond then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, at the Theatre Royal in Dublin / from the French of Monsieur Quinault., Dancer, John, fl. 1660-1675., Quinault, Philippe, 1635-1688. Agrippa, roi d'Albe..

Extent

[7], 61, [1] p.

Printed by J.C. for Nich. Cox ...,. London :: 1675.. (Translator's dedication to Lady Mary Cavendish signed: J.D. [i.e. John Dancer].) (Freely adapted from "Agrippa, roi d'Albe." Cf. Nicoll, A. Restoration drama, 1923, p. 89.) (Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.)

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