Love and revenge a tragedy acted at the Duke's Theatre / written by Elkanah Settle ...
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Title
Love and revenge a tragedy acted at the Duke's Theatre / written by Elkanah Settle ...
Author
Settle, Elkanah, 1648-1724.
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London :: Printed for William Cademan ...,
1675.
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"Love and revenge a tragedy acted at the Duke's Theatre / written by Elkanah Settle ..." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A59324.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 28, 2024.
Pages
ACT the Fourth.
Scene the First.
Enter Nigrello.
Nigr.
CUrse on this whining Passion! Th'amourous KingMinds Love so much, that he forgets his Honour.Aphelias Charms have so possest his thoughts,That all things else lye by. I have as goodAs call'd him Bastard, and his Mother Whore:Yet Clarmount wears his head. All other interestsNeglected lye, where Soveraign Woman reigns.I scorn so tardy a Revenge, I'le keepMy rage awake, though thine, dull King, can sleep.
Enter Fredigond.
Queen.
Mischief grows lean, Nigrello, all my plotsTurn head upon themselves.
Nigr.
'Tis very strange,
descriptionPage 48
Your Bed-chamber take fire, ••th'very mi••uteOf pleasure and security. For certainSome subtle Devil crosses your designs.
Queen.
Subtle! No, I'le swear for him, none oth'subtlest;For by this light, I out-witt••d him and allHis politicks. With what majestick graceDid the old reverend Goblin stalk away,Whilst th'amaz'd King, and his stout-hearted trainTurn'd pale, and lookt as ghastly at the sightAs I've seen Brutus picture look in Tapestry,Staring on Cesars Ghost. Was not the escapeOf Clarmount, in my Husbands shape most excellent.
Nigr.
Yes Madam, it was lucky. But what GuardDo you design against all future dangers?What next do you resolve on?
Queen.
My dull Ethiope,I will instruct thy blackness: Learn to knowMy Reputation's sickned, and my FameIs lookt into with narrow eyes at Court.Therefore it's thus decreed, I will removeAnd sequester my self from Company.
Nigr.
Good.
Queen.
Thou know'st where Childrick oftentimes retired,When fits of piety (rest his soul)Took him ••ith' head.
Nigr.
Madam, I know the place.
Queen.
There I and Clarmount will securely meet:The Cave that leads to th'Postern-gateWill give him entiance at all hours unseen.
Nigr.
Madam, your Wit's as glorious as your Love.
Queen.
I will away to Night. I cannot brookMy Frantick Sons wild passion for Aphelia:If (as I fear he will) he Marrys her,He has undone my hopes on Earth for ever.Therefore Nigrello, let my Clarmount beAcquainted with our new designs.
descriptionPage 49
Nigr.
What else?
Queen.
If by the conduct of thy subtle brainThou could'st remove—
Nigr.
Aphelia, or the King,The Prince, or all: is it not so?
Queen.
Thou hast a Wit which does engender thoughtsAs Regal as our own: when Fate blows fair,Set out, and prosper. In a brave design,I wish no better head nor hand then thine.Farewell. Remember Me.
Exit.
Nigr.
You shall be thought on, fear it not; but how?Should I prevent her Lust this second time,Before the third she may repent, and soMay save her Soul which my Revenge would damn:Yet I'le prevent her, and contrive it soShe shant repent, nor shall Hell lose a Subject.Thou, and thy Tyrant Son shall meet one Fate,But I'le begin with you—In ReverenceTo Age, thou Beldam as the elder Sinner,I will take care shalt be the elder Devil.
Enter Lewis and Lamot disguis'd.
Lam.
Where shall we meet you.
Lew.
Here. I'le wait your coming:Expect me here.
Exit Lamot.
Nigrell••, are we safe?
Nigr.
Safe Sir, and private.
Lew.
I am glad I've found thee:I've business to impart.
Nigr.
And so have I.
Lew.
Mine is of honourable consequence,And does require thy aid.
Nigr.
So does mine yours.
Lew.
My fair Aphelia is—
Nigr.
Your Brothers Prisoner.What then: His Wife she ne're shall be.
descriptionPage 50
Lew.
But sayHis Lust should seize her Honour, or his RageHer Life; Tyrant and Ravisher are namesHe has been too well acquainted with already,Suppose Aphelia meets Clotild as fate.
Nigr.
Suppose you dead, and me asleep; whilst youAre living, and I waking, 'tis impossible.
Lew.
Thy Courage I adore. Lead on Commander,I'le follow and obey.
Nigr.
Then take this path,And Conquer. First you know he loves her Virtue;Doats on her to Distraction; not becauseShe's only Fair, but Chast. Her beautious mind,And her fair form within makes her his Saint,His Heav'n, and whate're names th'IdolatryOf Love can give her. Then to take awayThat adoration, you must first displaceThe Saint, leave the Shri••e empty, and removeThat Virtue, and that Chastity he doates on.
Lew.
Bless me; where will this end?
Nigr.
She must be Strumpeted.
Lew.
Death and destruction, what a word was that?
Nigr.
Hold Sir, do not mistake: 'tis a hard word,But I've no time for Eloquence; She mustAppear, not be that Creature. His wild FrenzyMust have a desperate Cure. He must be told,And be by Circumstance convinced, She's Loose,Dishonest, and Unchast.
Lew.
A strange foundation.
Nigr.
But 'tis a sure one.
Lew.
But Nigrello, say,Where shall we lay the Scene: Unchast with whom?
Nigr.
Sir, if you'l trust my choyce, let it be Cl••rmount.He is a Villain, and the imputation(Suppose your Jealous Brother takes his head for't)Will do but ••ustice.
descriptionPage 51
Lew.
Well: Grant him the Man.
Nigr.
You have some of Aphelias Letters by you?
Lew.
Yes.
Nigr.
What if you forged her hand, and in her nameWrote Love from her to Clarmount? And to prove it,Put in some hints of a lost Maiden-head,Larded with some big words, such as stolne pleasures,Embraces, or Enjoyment, or what elseYou shall think fit.
Lew.
Her Lover, and betray her!Nigrello, for thy friendship, take my thanks:The Treason I'de embrace▪ but be the Traytor—
Nigr.
But can you yeild to see her Ravisht, Murder'd,Or what's worse, Married; Married to your Brother?That Traytor you must be, or one of theseIs certainly her fate.
Lew.
Is there no way?
Nigr.
None Sir, but this: and if her Safety, orYour Love be worth your Care, resolve.
Lew.
I'le do't.••Tiwxt Love and Honour, Interest ends the strife,I'le prostitute her Fame to save her Life.
Nigr.
Now you resolve, you shall not; your consentShall be enough; the labour shall be mine.And that the story may not seem a cheat,Or a design of yours by me to serve her,I will appear her Friend so little, thatIf he designs to punish her Unchastity,I'le aggravate her Guilt, and spur him onTo Justice; but take care he ne're shall act it.I'le raise the Thunder, but divert the blow.
Lew.
What debts must I for so much kindness owe?
Nigr.
You too must put on the disguise of hate;Seem satisfied she's false, and slight and scorn her.All Rivalship between you being once ceast,At news of the Rebellion set on foot,
descriptionPage 25
He will raise Arms to check it, and no doubtYou being the fittest object in his Kingdom,As you may manage it, make you their Leader.
Lew.
Let me embrace thee; this is a designHas shot life through me.
Nigr.
By this means you mayConvert the Tyrants Sword to his own Ruine▪Instead of your suppressing the Confederates,Joyn his own Army to assist their Cause.
Lew.
I am satisfied, an am resolv'd to studyAll arts and means for my Revenge. RevengeCan't be too fierce moved by so just a cause:An Injur'd Mistress, and a Murder'd Father.
Nigr.
Since your mind's bent on honourable ends,I have one more will try you.
Lew.
Name it then.
Nigr.
Your Mother stoops to actions that abhorThe Light, and this Night meets, if not prevented—
Lew.
My soul finds out the Man, is it not Clarmount?
Nigr.
The same.
Lew.
Are Pallaces such Scenes of Villany?Had not the Court enough of Hell before in't.Conduct me where I may but seize this Monster,That his stain'd blood—
Enter Burbon, Lamot, Dumane, and Brisa••.
Nigr.
Change your discourse and looks:Your Friends attend you.
Lew.
Gentlemen, you're welcome.My almost Brother once, I thank you,
To Brisack.
And kindly greet this brave Assembly, whoseGreat spirits look for stirring Opposites:But there your expectation will be lost,For I'le take care your danger shall be small,And your resistance flender. Sirs, your pardon;I've business of Importance with Bris••••
descriptionPage [unnumbered]
That robs me of your company some minutes,But I'l•• repair that loss at our next meeting:But take this in my stead. I'le share your Cause.
Lam.
Our Lives and Fortunes Sir, lye at your feet.
Exit Lewis and Brisac.
Burbon.
Are your men bold and daring; resoluteTo run your fate; indifferent Rich, not PoorThat only fight for Bread; such oft betrayThe sinews of a well-knit plot for gain,When these fight as well to defend as win
Dum.
Mine know nor fear, nor death, souls of that fireThey'l catch a Bullet flying, scale a WallBatt'led with Enemies, stand breaches, laugh atThe thunder of the Canon; call it Musick,Fitter a Ladys Chamber than the Field.When o're their heads the Element is Seeld;Darkend with Darts, they'l fight under the shades,And ask no other Roof to hide their heads in;They fear not Jove, and had the Gyants beenBut half so spirited, they had Dethroned him.Such are the Men I lead.
Burb.
Well kind Dumane,I see they want no Herauld that have gotYour Friendship.
Dum.
Sir, I speak 'em as I love 'em.
Lam.
In good old Childricks raign, before his QueenHad taught him Revels, and untaught him War,Before her wanton Lust had sheathed his Sword,To give her treacherous Poyson, pow'r of death;I knew that they had valour, and a causeTo shew it in. Nor has the rust of PeaceBlunted their edge; they are as fierce as ever.
Burb.
They're Souldiers fit to Sack a Kingdom then—
Dum.
And share the spoyle.
Burb.
Were't come to that sport once.—
descriptionPage 54
Lam.
Burbon it must, o•• some of us must fall.The Ulcerous State is ripe, and we must launce i••.
Exeunt.
Scene the Second. The Scene a Room of State.
Enter Aph••lia.
Aph.
I am a Prisoner still. But why so fairA Prison, and so ki••d an entert••inment,After he had pronounced so harsh a doom,I cannot guess the cause, unless it springFrom the Conversion of my cruel King:If that's the cause, as ye kind pow'rs, I hope 'tis—
Enter Nigrello.
Nigr.
Now for my disguise:This Lodging, and this Entertainme••t's my design:
Aside.
The King I have perswaded to this mildness,As the more easie way to win her heartThen Cruelty. But on the same foundationI seem to raise his hopes, I've built his ruine.
Aph.
What read'st thou in the Book of Fate Nigrello?What is Heav'ns pleasure?Quick, make hast and crownMy hopes, speak, thou canst readThe Language of my Stars, the will of Destiny••For thou canst tell how looks my angry King.
Nigr.
Madam, he's now a King indeed, no moreYour Tyrant, witness his strange ReformationNow Madam he intends to make you happyIn giving, not accepting of your heart.This milder usage he designs a PrologueThis vanquisht passion, and your alter'd 〈◊〉〈◊〉The Generous, the Good, the Courteous 〈◊〉〈◊〉Has been so much your Friend.—
Aph.
Clar••ount, my Friend▪
descriptionPage 55
Nigr.
Your Influence is so great, that this kind manHas used such force, spoke such convincing reason,That the Converted King adores your Faith,Charm'd with your constancy, resolves to cherish it.
Aph.
Can I believe my Ears?
Nigr.
If you beliefSo tardy be, stay till your Eyes confirm it:And when your generous King gives your fair handTo Lewis, call your Slave your Oracle.
Aph.
What extasy doest thou inspire? But Clarmou••,Was he the Kings Converter? his strange pow'rBoth in the Kings and Peoples hearts I've heard of:But his strange kindness in my Cause is wondrous.
Nigr.
No doubt the Prince may have engag'd him in't.But what'ere motive led him on,It was a bold and brave attemptT'oppose the passion of a raging King.
Aph.
What Recompence does so much kindness merit?
Nigr.
No more then you can pay: Send him your thanks,And the Debt's cancell'd.
Aph.
Yes, by thee I'le send'em.Tell him from me, how high a sense, what value—
Nigr.
Madam, my Will exceeds my Pow'r to serve you.I doubt my little Eloquence so much,That you'd oblige your humble Slave, to trustYour nobler thoughts to Paper.
Aph.
Who waits there?
Enter Attendant.
Bring Pen and Paper.
Exit Attendant, and brings in Pen, Ink, and paper,
and Aphelia sits down and writes.
Nigr.
I have my wish, A Letter does the business.
[Aside.
Enter Brisac.
Noble B••isac.
Bris.
How fares our mourning Sister?
descriptionPage 56
Nigr.
Hist: I have wor••t her up •• to a beliefOf Clarmounts Friendship, and the Kings conversion:And you are come••th happy minute toConfirm her in't.
Brif.
The King has sent me hitherTo Court my Sister for him. But the LawsOf Friendship and of Nature ought to beObey'd before th••unjust commands of Kings.His Love is Tyranny, an Invasion ofWhat Vows & Oaths the Seals of Heav'n have madeHis Brothers right. The serving of my FriendAnd Sister then, is a design so just,That all the Cheats I use, and shapes I take,Are pardon••d for their glorious cause sake:Moved by the tyes of Friendship and of Blood,The means are lawful where the end's so good.
Aph.
Oh my dear Brother, welcome. Kind NigrelloTells me my miseries draw near an end;The King's no more my Lover, but my Friend.
Bris.
If his wild Loves Conversion, is so great,What's his Devotion then, that makes the Proselite?How great is the obliging Clarmounts Friendship?
Aph.
How great I think it is, read there, and see.
Bris.
Reads the Letter.
My Lord,
My Transports of joy have been such, as your favours merited:
when I consider the furious Love of a Tempestuous King, I cannot
but reflect on the danger of your kindness in wrestling with that
Love, and the glory of it in subduing it. Pursue the generous
Friendship that has been so well beg••n, and take into the number
of your Admirers the humblest of yor Servants.
Aphelia.
'Tis well; his worth too high you cannot raise:The first reward of all good deeds is praise.
She fits down and Seals the Letter.
descriptionPage 57
Nigr.
Those lines with some addition of my ownShall make all my design secure. I'le driveThe cheat on with such Impudence and courage,That all his furious rage shall not deter me,Nor all his arts disprove me.
[Gives him the Letter.
Aph.
Here Nigrell••.
Nigr.
I'le flye to serve you; but before I go,I ought to tell you that the King intendsTo visit you; and though he comes to takeHis last farewell to Love, yet you must thinkLovers quit Ladies just as GarrisonsSurrender; in their fall their Pride's so great,They willingly would have their yeilding look,As little as it can like a defeat.The King, no doubt, though in his vanquisht passion,Will make some Love; say some kind amorous things;And if you'l take my Councel, let your AnswersBe mild and gentle.
Exit Nigrello.
Bris.
The advice is good,And you'l oblige your self if you pursue it.'Tis a vain glory that attends a Lover,Never to say he quits; and when Hope dyes,The Gallantry of Love still lives, is charm'dWith kindness but in shadow; takes delightEven in its being deceiv'd. Love's th'only passionTakes pleasure to be flatter'd in dispair.
Aph.
Can a feign'd look, or a dissembled smileOblige so good, so generous a King.Such Treachery I scorn; no, he deservesA nobler usage. His resigning meTo Lewis, has so charm'd me, that I cannotPay him too much. My Friendship, Kindness; allThe faculties of my Soul (but what my VowsTo Heav'n and Lewis do except) are his.Come glorious Lover, storm an easie Breast,Take all my heart has liberty to part with.
descriptionPage 58
This brave refigning me, has gain'd such pow'••,Lewis had ne're a Rival till this hour.
Bris.
Madam, I see him coming; take no noticeEither of our discourse or his conversion.'Tis more than I dare answer: it anticipatesThe Gallantry, and the surprize of greatDesigns, to have ••em told e're they are acted.
Enter King.
King.
What Vulture gripes me here? Ha, what art thou?If thou be'st so Jealousy, mount and be gone:Fly to the vulgar bosom, whose cheap thoughtsDespair their own performance; in a KingThou show'st a Nature retrograde to Honour.Suppose She Loves, and has vow'd constancyTo Lewis, must it follow that her heartCannot be moved? 'Tis but my fears that say so.I'le boldly on, and tire her till she yeild.Is She not fair? Beauty's a spark of Heav'n,And all that's Heavenly may be moved, 'tis onlyTh'Infernal pow'rs that are inexorable.What brow wears our fair Tyrant? Is a Brother
To Bris.
More pow'rful then a King? Does ••he unmovedAdmit thy Mediation in my Cause,Or am I still that unshaped thing, whose nameHas terror in't. Does still each sound, that breathsMy hated name, strike horrour through her veins;And shake that Seat where my proud Brother raigns.
Bris.
I found her not so cruel as I wisht her;The Conquest was so easie, that my painsIn serving you, were less then I desired.
King.
The Conquest? How, what say you?
Bris.
Sir, the CloudThat hinder'd her the prospect of her blissIs gone; the pow'r of Majesty and LoveHas the long mist dispel••d: She is restoredTo sense and reason.
descriptionPage 59
King.
Is Aphelia kind?
Bris.
Yes, to her self: She understands the LoveOf Kings; and why she understood no sooner,She does confess her senses have been moreDazled then darken'd.
King.
My kind Advocate.Oh that I had a Sister for thy sake,As Cruel, and if possible, as fair,That I might pay thee back this kindness.They Madam, who Divinitys approach,
[To her.
Seek out for prosperous hours to breath their Vows in:Which attribute of Heav'n Divine ApheliaMercy or Justice is the mighty workOf this days fate? Have you markt out this hourFor lending ear to your Adorers Prayers,Or forming Thunder for Offenders crimes.
Aph.
If there is any thing Divine or SacredLodged in this Breast, 'tis Royal Sir, your Creature.For this poor humble roof, cannot be builtFor such a Guest, unless you're pleased to raise it;And if you'd have me Sainted, you of all menShould have lest cause to ask how I'm inclin'd:Who makes the Saint, may well expect it kind.
King.
I am transported. If this sudden kindnessBe truth, 'tis Miracle.
Bris.
If it be false,Punish her Treason on her Brothers heart.By my Allegiance, and my hopes of Bliss,She entertains no wish nor thought t'abuse you.
King.
This Language speaks thee ••air Aphelias Brother:Thy Breath else could not be so near alliedTo hers, to carry so much charm, such Heav'n in't.They Madam, who would mighty Structures rayse,
[To her.
Search the Foundation first, on which they build.The highest flight of my Ambition isTo know my pow'r in fair Aphel••as heart.
descriptionPage 60
Enter Nigrello.
Aph.
Your pow'r in that you shall distrust no more.'Tis all that Loyalty and GratitudeCan make it; my Prophetick thoughts have told meYou will be kind; and as my Soveraign oughtTo have disposal of your Vassals Fates.And that high Fate you have markt out for meI doubt not will be welcome, great, and glorious.And as I'm satisfied 'twill be all these,Great Sir, t'obey you, shall not only beMy duty, but my hopes.
Bris.
How prettilyThey drive on the mistake.
Nigr.
The plot works rarely.
Bris.
But stop 'em e're it goes too far.
Nigr.
Great Sir,I've somthing for your Ear.
King.
Another time.
Nigr.
None but this minute will suffice. Your safetyAnd honour are cocern'd.
King.
And what of them?Be quick, I'm too full of thought to talk.
Nigr.
My story is so fiery, that it mustMove slow; for if it should break out too fiercely,It will do Violence to your Ear, disturb,If not displease you.
King.
But it shall not. I've butJust now receiv'd the promise of her heart;And do you think it lyes in Fortunes pow'rTo shake my quiet at so blest an hour:Out with it, speak the worst thou hast to say,My Joy's too great t'admit of an allay.
Bris.
Let us withdraw; perhaps they would be private.
Exeunt Bri••ac and Aphelia.
Nigr.
But shall I have yor pardon?
King.
Yes, dispatch then.
descriptionPage 61
Nigr.
Your Mistrerss is not—
King.
What?
Nigr.
Not Chast.
King.
Not Chast?Had'st thou ten thosand lives, not one of themShould scape my Justice for so damn'd a lye.
Nigr.
You promis'd me my pardon.
King.
How! thy pardon?I would not give't my Father; no, not his Ghost:Should but his shadow from his Grave rise upTo speak but one such word, for the ImpietyI'de burn the Temple where his Ashes sleep,And raze his Tomb to be reveng'd on's dust for't.But now I think on't thou shalt live for tortures;I know there must be greater heads then thineIn this Conspiracy; which I'le wrack from thee:Then my Revenge I'le take when 'twill be glorious:Less then a Massacre▪ would be too meanA Sacrifice t' Aphelias injur'd Honour.
Nigr.
That trouble shall be saved; I doubt not, Sir,But you'l believe me e're l've done.
King.
Believe thee Slave! I'de not believe an Angel;Should a Messenger from Heav'n bring me this News,I would turn Athest to affront him for't.
Nigrello gives him Aphelias Letter.
Whats this, a Letter to Clarmount.
[Reads.
My Lord,
My transports of joy have been such as your Favours merited.
When I consider the furious Love of a Tempestuou•• King; I can∣not
but reflect on the danger of your kindness in wrestling with
that Love, and the glory of it in subduing it. Pursue that gene∣rous
friendship that has been so well begun, and take into the num∣ber
of your Admirers the humblest of your Servants.
Aphelia.
descriptionPage 62
The danger of his kindness in wrestling with my Love, and his
glory in subduing it—That Friendship which has been so well begun—then it seemsHe's a more pow'rful Rival then his King.Somthing a loving stile; stay, here's a Postcript.
When I am Married, and a Queen, our stolne pleasures
will be more difficult, but shall not be less desired, nor less
grateful to yours still
Aphelia.
Reads.
What pretty sorgery is this?Betray her Virgin-honour! make stolne meetings!Aphelia Clarmounts Whore?
Nigr.
Oh no Sir:The World has found a gentler name, his Mrs.I see Sir you are startled; cease your wonder.Is she not fair; and in this loving AgeA little Gallantry's a Venial sin.
King.
Slave, do you sport with me? confess who forgedThis Blasphemy. For'tis no more her writingThen thou'rt a Saint.
Nigr.
'Tis hers; I saw her write it,And when she had done, she gave't me to deliver.But Curiosity made me so rudeTo break it open; which when I had read,My Loyalty made me present it hereTo save your honour from a Syrens charms,And guard my Prince from a loose Wantons arms.
King.
Thou ly'st; there's not one word on't hers. Has LewisCorrupted thy fideliry? I suspectIt is his plot, but I will force the secretFrom thy black soul, or tear thy heart-strings out.
Nigr.
I'm not Subornd: That Letter is Aphelias;She wrote it, and I'le prove it. I confessShe's Beautiful; but what though she be fair,Must that conclude she's honest?
descriptionPage 63
King.
Hold thy Athestick tongue: Or speak, and dye.
Nigr.
Great Sir—
King.
Peace Slave, thou that infect'st all Peace.
Nigr.
Why are you thus distemper'd; let not truthMake you so wild a Tempest. Were it false,Or that I sought the ruine of your Peace,Your Youth, or Honour, then it were a timeTo swell to this extravagance of passion:But being truth—
King.
Truth, Dog, avoyd my sight:Fly where the ruder world, ill verst in Kindred,Promiscuously combines without distinction:Where every Man is every Womans Husband.These are a People that might bear with thee,And fit for thee to dwell with.
Nigr.
Yes Royal Sir, I'm gone; but th'only wayFor me t'avoyd your sight, must be to dye.Nothing but death can separate your Slave,Your loyal faithful Slave, from his loved Lord,His honour'd and adored Lord: But if death'sMy doom, pray let your humble Vassal beg
[Kneels.
An honourable death. Sir, from your handLet it in glory come; that death which IDeserve, when my great Master thinks me false.But e're you give me honour, right your own
[Rises.
Sir, if I do not proveAll I have said, send my black soul to Hell:Damnation for abusing MajestyIs a just due, Hers, and your wrongs demand.
King.
Leave off your Protestations; can her FameBe question'd, or disputed?
Nigr.
Not by one,Who is all passion, but by Reason—
King.
ThenLet Reason be the judge: I'le show it her.
descriptionPage 64
Nigr.
Do Sir.—But hold. She's not so impudent in sin to ownSo foul a Paper. If she should disown it(As, if you show it her, no doubt she will)You've but my word for't. Then for better proof,Let her be sent for, and at her approach,Do you retire unseen, to over-hear us:The first thing that I'm certain she will ask me,Will be about that Letter; the discourseBetween us, will convince you that she sent it,And make perhaps more large discoveriesOf her false heart then this has pow'r to do.
King.
It is impossible; her CharacterGives this black scrowl the lye. She cannot beThat Monster which this Letter represents her.Were she Unchast, why then did she refuseA profferd Crown? I offer'd Marriage to her;And Marriage, that's the veile to UnchastityYou see she shun'd. Did she not choose her deathBefore my Love? Were she in league with Clarmount,Why would she for my Brothers Love have dyed?Were all this truth, where's all her Vows to Lewis,Her scorn of Life, and her desire of Heav'nTo meet him there?
Nigr.
Where are they? where they should be.In the smooth tongue and oyley words of subtleWoman. Where are they! why Sir, can't you guess?Is the pretence of Constancy and HonourSuch news in Woman kind? Did not you love her.And courted by a King, could she do less,Were she a Devil, then appear an Angel?She had promis'd Marriage to your Brother. ButMust you conclude her Chast for courting DeathTo follow him? what a strange, bold requestWas it to beg her Death from him she knewLoved her too well to grant it her? The favourShe askt, she ne're expected to obtain.
descriptionPage 65
King.
How's this?
Nigr.
And for the conduct of her Love to Lewis,Examine it, and where's her mighty Faith;She'd hate you as his Murderer, and LoveHer Murder'd Lovers memory; She'd chooseTo be his Sacrifice, before your Queen.'T was a brave Character, and she pursued it:But search its depth, 'twas Interest, an ArtificeTo heighten your esteem of her. How commonIs it to make a Conquest difficultTo raise the value on't. For after all,She's not invincible, nor he so pow'rful,But she could yeild at last. Did she not tell youThat that high fate you had markt out for her,Would be both welcome, great, and glorious;And so in loving duty, and kind Loyalty,Her heart was at her Kings disposal.
King.
Hold!I'le hear no more.
Nigr.
But Royal Sir, you must,Though the bold speaker dyes for't. When you've Marry'd her,She has her ends. For then, what with your PrideFor your hard Conquest, and your high assuranceBoth of her Love and Honour, which her greatAnd pious Character confirms, she's certainTo raise your Passion to so vast a height,That all she wishes, is her own. What greaterSecurity for a loose Womans pleasureThen the fond kindness of an amourous Husband?Such liberty and safety waits on Marriage,That Clarmount then securely—
King.
Cease this rudeness;They who raise Thunder, may not be so boldTo sport with it. Yonder it comes.
Nigr.
What Sir?
King.
That wondrous thing thou talk'st of.
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Nigr.
Retire but for a minute; if I do notProve all I've told you, let my Blood appeaseYour Anger, and her Injuries—
The King absco••ds.
Enter Aphelia.
Aph.
Nigrello.
Nigr.
The generous, and the worthy Clarmount thanks you
Aph.
My Letter you p••esented?
King.
Can't be trueShe owns that impious Libell!
Nigr.
Yes, and heAccepted it with so much joy; such extasieNo common influence could raise.
Aph.
Kind Sir,I am your Debtor.
King.
Yes in justiceShe ought to pay her Bawd; his Office merits it.
Aph.
He is a generous, and a faithful Friend,And whilst th'obliged Aphelia has breathT'express, and pow'r to gratifie his favours,I'le pay my thanks in heaping honours on him.
King.
How fond she is. She can't forbear to praise him.If her loose tongue can be so ProdigalTo one whom she supposes thinks her honest,What are her private thoughts. I am distracted.
Aph.
This kind, good man—
King.
Damnation seize him for't.'Tis but too plain. Since she can be Unchast;If such a sacred form can bear such stains,I cannot wonder at the ancient RomansThat made their Gods Adulterers.
Nigrello
What read'st thou in our brow▪
Nigr.
A fond desireTo be deceived. A flattering kind of hopeThat fair Ap••elia may be honest still.
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King.
A setled resolution my black Genius,Not to be alter'd by the brackish TearsThat flow in pregnant eyes of easie Woman.
Aph.
Why looks my King so alter'd? What strange errourHas Fate committed; for if any illAttend so good a King, 'tis Heav'ns mistake:It can't be so unjust as to design it.What chance has made this change; you look as ifA load hung on your thoughts?
King.
Yes, did man kindThink half so bad of Hell, as I of thee,There would not be a Sinner in the World.
Aph.
Am I so terrible? There was a timeYour language flow'd more gently, and ApheliaAppear'd less frightful. Where's the alteration?Trust me my Lord, I feel it not. I fearSome Villany has your pure thoughts infected.
King.
Why did the over-sight of Heav'n lay outSuch vast expence to Beautifie a Face,And form the Soul of such a different mould?Crule Aphelia, cruel to thy self,T'obscure such Excellence, Eclipse such Light:Is that a Brow fit for eternal Night?How could a wanton heat, or loose desire,Lodge in that Breast, till the fair seat took fire:Whose spreading flames have all your glories crusht,Ruin'd your Fame, and laid your Pride in dust?Why this strange fall—why this Lethardick passion?I am too milde for an affronted King;Thy Treasons are too loud to be discours'dSo tamely. Oh thou infamous base Woman,What sawcy Devil tempted thy hot bloodTo prostitute thy Virtue, shame thy Birth,Betray thy Credulous King, and damn thy Soul?
Aph.
I am all horrour. Oh my startled senses!What means my King?
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King.
To use thee just as courslyAs thou hast done thy honour: Take her hence.
Aph.
Sir, do but hear me—
King.
Convey her hence, and let her talk to morrow;My ears have been too busie for one day.
Aph.
Then I am satisfied; if I have leaveTo speak my Innocence before my Death,I thank kind Heav'n, my courage is so high,Whate're's my doom, I can obey, and dye.
Exit Nigrello leading Aphelia.
King.
If so much Innocence, and so much BeautyCan be corrupted; if Aphelia canTurn Whore, why may not all man kindMistrust their Fathers, and suspect their Births?Their Mothers are less fair, and why more honest.Who knows, but whilst the Husbands arms embraceThe seeming honest Wife, her wanton fancyMay in a stragling fit, fix on a Satyr,Or some more lustful favourite; and her issue,Though 'tis got lawfully, be conceiv'd a Bastard.
Exit.
Scene the last The Scene a Grotto.
Enter Lewis, Brisac, Souldiers with a Page carrying
a dark Lanthorn.
Lew.
Upon your Lives, let no man pass that way;Make that your Post.
Bris.
Your Grace shall be obey'd.
Lew.
So if the darkness of the place protects him,If he escapes my hands, he'l fall in yours.
Exeunt.
The Scene open'd; Clarmount and Fredigond are dis∣cover'd
together.
Enter Lewis.
Clarm..
Here all our joys are safe; no envious eyes,
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No rudeness will this humble Seat surprize.Nor can ill Fate our secure Loves betray:No fire can guide a Jealous King this way.
Fred.
Oh my dear Clarmount, 'twas unkindly doneTo have my pleasures hinder'd by my Son,Considering 'twas I that made him King;'Twas I that set his Fathers soul on wing.
Lew.
Ye Gods, what a discovery have I made:Had she a hand too in my Fathers Murder!
Aside.
Fred.
And yet Heav'n knows how I abhor'd the sin;Yet for thy sake could act it o're agen:To kill a Husband, was a crime so horrid,As startled me to enter in my thoughts,Till Love presented me objects so gay,As instantly drew the dark Scene away.
Clarm.
We are betray'd.
Lew.
Stir Traytor, and thou dyest:
[Holds a Dagger at his Breast.
Brisac.
Enter Brisac, Nigrello, and Souldiers.
Bris.
My Lord.
Lew.
That Monster is thy charge.
Clarm.
Nigrello in the Plot. Oh credulous Fool!
Lew.
Thou glorious Light, that in thy natural OrbeDid'st comfortably shine upon this Kingdom,How is thy worth Ecclips'd? what a dull darknessHangs round about thy Fame? in all this pieceTo every limb whereof, I once owed duty:I know not now where to find out my Mother.
Queen.
The Devil and disobedience blinds your eyes.
Lew.
Oh that I had no eyes, so you no shame:Murder your Husband to arrive at Lust,And then to lay the blame on Innocence:Blush, blush, thou worse then Woman.
Queen.
Ha, ha—
Le••.
Hold my heart.
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You're impudent in▪ sin; has your lustful VillainMade you thus Valiant?
Queen.
How darest thou cloath thy speech in such a phraseTo me thy Mother?
Lew.
Adultrate Woman, shame of Royalty;I blush to call thee Mother, yes to think it.Whilst I reflect upon thy tainted blood,I doubt the pureness of my own. The spring headDefiled, who knows but the under stream may beCorrupted: I am all distraction,And dare not talk too long on such a subject,Least wildness conquering my softer sense,Thrust forth my hand into an act of horrour.
Queen.
Insolent Boy, wilt thou turn Parracid••?
Lew.
The justice of my cause would well excuseMe, if I should. Nigrello.
Nigr.
Sir, your pleasure▪
Lew.
Nature forbids me spill my Mothers blood,And Clarmount is unfit for my Revenge;For I must study torments for the Villain.This is the Night that the ConfederatesBegin the work: Therefore I give '••m upTo thy Tuition, till I shall returnVictorious, then we'll determine of 'em.
Exeant Lewis and Bri••ac.
Queen.
Did I for this, ungrateful Traytor, trustMy honour in thy hands▪
Clar.
Did she for thisBestow her Princely smiles on thee; prefer thee;Rayse thee to honour, and rewards above—
Nigr.
No more; I have no time for words or thoughtsOf any thing but Justice; take 'em hence,And lodge 'em in that Dungeon which I told you.
Exeunt Fredigond and Clarmount
forced out by Guards.
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All goes as I could wish: The King's possestAphelia has been Debaucht by Clarmount.And this Nights workStrengthens that Faith; for Clarmount being removed,By his strange and sudden absence, 'twill be thoughtHe lyes conceal'd, and that concealment seemTh' effect of guilt, by which I'le work the KingTo a belief he thinks his crime discover'd,And is retired t'avoyd the punishment.What prospect of Revenge am I arriv'd to.Their confidence in my Honesty destroys'em.What safer policy then seeming just▪The greatest prop of Treachery is Trust.
[Exeunt.
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