SCENE II.
Enter Arbates.
Arb.
Madam, Your Enemies come on a-pace,
And will within few hours fill all this place:
Love's triumph, or, The royal union a tragedy / written by Edward Cooke, Esq., and dedicated to Her Highness the Princess of Orange.
About this Item
- Title
- Love's triumph, or, The royal union a tragedy / written by Edward Cooke, Esq., and dedicated to Her Highness the Princess of Orange.
- Author
- Cooke, Edward, fl. 1678.
- Publication
- London :: Printed by Thomas James, and are to be sold by him ... and William Leach ...,
- 1678.
- Rights/Permissions
-
To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
- Subject terms
- Mary -- II, -- Queen of England, 1662-1694 -- Drama.
- William -- III, -- King of England, 1650-1702 -- Drama.
- Link to this Item
-
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A34410.0001.001
- Cite this Item
-
"Love's triumph, or, The royal union a tragedy / written by Edward Cooke, Esq., and dedicated to Her Highness the Princess of Orange." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A34410.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 13, 2025.
Pages
Page 51
You may their strength on yonder Turret see,
As they come marching up along the Key.
Like a long Train of Clouds they do appear,
And with their Dust they thicken all the Air.
Rox.
What is't, Arbates, we had best to do?
Arb.
Set free the Prince, whose Life they do pursue.
Rox.
My Blood I'll give for his—
Arb.
—that won't suffice:—
They have design'd the Prince their Sacrifice.
Making outragious Clamours as they're led,
They cry, now, now for Oroondates Head.
Rox.
Rather than they his Life from me shall tear,
These Hands shall be his Executioner.
Art.
Yet this way we their Fury must controul,
Expose the Body to preserve the Soul.
Madam, Restore his Armes—and set him free:
Should he revolt—his Generosity
Will make him prove a Noble Enemy.
Rox.
Whilst I consider what I'd best to do,
Lead you my Men, and let your Valour show,
At least you can resist, if not o'rethrow.
Arb.
Madam, with joy I do this charge receive,
And hope such proofs of my large pow'r to give,
As may the Justice of your cause express,
And silence all their boastings of success.
I'll go where most your Interest shall call,—
Shout within
And come with Conquest back, or not at all.