RHODOLINDA

Your stars bid you be happy. My cross fa e Like the Raven, croaks a funeral note: This swarthy habit, but paints forth the grief That chains my soul in darkness. And filial love Commands me mourn for him, whom you too soon Deprived of life, my conquered father. My captivity must needs seem easy, While the Conqueror proves so kind. You are too powerful in you speech. I merit no such compliment. Though Fame lends you her Trumpet, gives you leave To speak your own praise, you cannot utter more Then my belief shall warrant. Oh Hermegild! a general eclipse In Nature, would not seem so horrid! To cut those cordial strings which Hymen had But newly tied. How! your Excellence ought excuse my speech! When your victorious sword deprived me of My Father; I entered to captivity, As to oblique shade, where death inhabits. Till you allowed me Hermegild ; who with His high Philosophy did make My bondage sweet. My Father loved him well: He was his noblest Servant, and must not For his virtues suffer, until your sacred tongue Forbid me share with you in Sovereignty. The King! How sportful he is grown? how full Of amorous game and dalliance? Speak, is that Bag, that should contain thy Gall, Shrunk up; hast thou nothing bitter in thee? Thou art far, far more opportunely stored With time and place for thy revenge, then we. Ith' middle age of day; when the bright Sun Most powerfully does warm the world; in thy Secret Clozet he takes his usual sleep. Go, drill his heart! and make the Couch whereon He lies, his easy monument. Sir, if you continue this narration, I shall weep. Oh fatal! my eyes shrink within my brow! I gather Agues Like the Spring, and tremble Like the vnlick'd Lamb, newly yeaned upon A sheet of Snow. The King's a Tyrant, and thou his slave. To present my Royal Father's Skull, In drunken Triumph. No more: Patience is sinful now. Thou art Deeply read and wise: instruct me to be bold, For Albouine hath taught me to be cruel. I yet want your meaning. How! lie with him? I'll sooner choose a Man sion In a sepulcher: There commit incest With the raw remnant of my father's bones: Sooner embrace and airy Incubus: Mingle Limbs with some ulcerous Cripple, Able to infect and Hospital. Canst thou suspect, I will prove inconstant, To what in cold temperance I determine? I'll kneel, and vow with all solemnity— Stay, Paradine ; didst thou not name my Father? And thou knowest how thy good Country suf fers? Hermegild oft receives certificate From some in bondage there, which writ in Prose, do, I'th reading into Verse dissolve: so sad The business is, so fit for elegy. The King's a stern Tyrant. But my Nuptial the King did celebrate In Golgotha, where Skulls, and dusty bones Inhabit. Think on thy Country, Paradine! Is there In Story no mention of some great Soul, That did his Country prize above his own Mortality, and died to gain his Nation Freedom? Paradine, good night! So early up? Your Lord is temperate. The morning might have shown me too for mirth, Had not the false King made the night so sad. Black fancy fly! Dost thou call't a skirmish? Hah! I'd rather loose my eyes then see him. What's this? D'ye moralise? Hark, Thesina! She has been gossiping With the holy Sisters: she preaches to me Of Matrimonial zeal. Troth Valdaura, If thy husband do infuse such schism, I'll practice a divorce. I Hermegild. If those embraces do Include such high delight, such rhapsody; She makes me envious then since all my Hope's Are widowed by the King. To night, Valdaura You are to sleep beneath my Roof. This I Impose as a command. Is this Paradines Garden? Hah I look there! Thou dost inquire, t'affront my sighed. Is that a safe conjunction in so hight a climate! So violent in pursuit of your game? Let's follow, Hermegild ? Why? be nimble in thy speech! I pre thee grow particular! Dost think They purpose ought ith' dark? or, was this same But ceremonious form! such a greeting As courtship will admit in public interview? What of her? Do not involve thy language thus In periods of suspense. Oh, is it so? Why, does he use it? By heaven and so it is. Hermegild, you did misspend that breath. Oh perjured, black, adulterous King! affront My Father's Ghost? Disturb his Ashes in His tomb? When ̄ drunk with pride, he mocked me with The gawdy title of a Queen, and now I am become a stale for all his lust. Valdaura too! so pure of heart (forsooth) That she would blush to see her own hand, if naked: They are proscribed. Know, Hermegild, Our Country shall be free. Thou givest my senses pride! What in this great Business wilt thou do, to encourage hope? When first I chosen thee out for this great work, I saw thee thorough a Perspective reuerss'd; For thou didst seem much lesser then thou art. Kneel, and be happy!—Before The Genius of this place, and what is here Immortal, I vow to assist with my Most active skill, all thy designments against The King; and when my joust Hope's are finished, To be thy Wife. Such as do perjured prove, Lightning will surely cloth with subtle flames, And they shall burn Like glimmering Tapers In dark hell: pale, and sickly as that fire The Ghost of Nero makes. Enough. I proffet to thy lip, the first Taste of my affection— They kiss, then rise. Sure, Hermegild, I have amazed thy sense, Thou lookest Like some overgrown Fiend, chained up Within a silent cave. Let us retire, and I'll Discover how I've practised my revenge. In vain thou callest. The Cannons Iron throat, Although high mounted on you' Pinnacle, Scarce could reach her ear. She's in Pavia now, Two Leagues situate from hence. I sent her thither, with pretence she should Survey the model of a Garden-worke. But 'twas done, that Thesina might entice With apter leisure, thy person to my bed. At noon thy wife returns. Thou hast enjoyed what Albouine with all His Royal sighs, his tears swollen bigger then His eyes, despaired to merit. This ( Paradine ) denotes a melting brain: Which out of vulgar pity I forgive. 'Twas not the wanton taste of thy smooth limbs, That could provoke me use this stratagem. But love of my revenge. I've strongly now Engaged thy power, to kill the King. Which do: and ere the Sun arrive ith'West; Or with disheveled hair, my vestments torn (As if I'ld wandered thorough some Hathorne hedge) I will approach the Tyrant, acquaint him With this deed, and call my own adultery Thy fowl rape. Collect thy scattered thoughts. What thy respect To thy captived Country, could never charm thee To revenge; be prompted to, by a kind Affection of thy own deer life: revenge Upon a Tyrant; One, that loves not me, Nor thee; unless in speech: he hath a smooth Tongue, but a rugged heart. My Hermegild Perceives this truth, and can deliver it With all the pride of knowledge. Stay, Paradine. If thou dost mock my Hope's With a slow motion in this joust design, Expect to find my anger fatal. I'll to The King, and make a forfeiture of both Our lives: but if with hardy sinews thou dost march To is Throat, and slit the swarthy Pipe, I'll call Thee then my Soldier. Beside thy Countries thanks, Thou shalt enjoy me for thy Queen, thy Wife, Paradine. Wouldst thou embrace so eminent a bliss, Without some danger to thy soul? Alas, good easy Soul! She'll never be missed Among the living. Know, Valdaura's false. She is a open whore, and hath taught me This Art of lust. Wilt thou thus leave me in a wild suspense, Whither I shall find thy courage active? Ere yet the Morn is fair cheek hath lost her tears, Dost call it night? Stay, for else my rage will not permit That we survive another meeting. If thou suspectest we are too loud, I will Distil my thoughts into thy ear. He was too cruel to a nature so Remiss, and timorous as mine? Could I assure my heart; he would no more Triumph over my deer Father's memory; I then should meet his love with too much passion. Tear forth her eyes, and let her then grope out Her way to hell— Paradine is poisoned, who knows, but she Does amply share in that gilded too? I shall convert to stone! What did remain suspense, is here confirmed: My forehead feels as rugged now as his. Now Paradine ! Instruct thy self with thoughts. Is't evident he ever could affect Thy person with sincere dotage, yet thus Betray thy strength in thy Fort? Where thy Honour still stood sentinel? Doe't, Paradine ! and Fame no Trumpet then Shall need to speak thy praise. Thy Country will Afford thee power to sanctify the chief O'th' days within our Calendar. I herd him say, he is already furnished With a powerful medicine. Dost thou grow jealous? Away fool! I seal thy safety with my lip. exit. Thou hast a wild aspect! Is it done? Th'art precious as my Soul! He opens the Arras. He looks Like a pale Country Virgin That longed to eat Mortar. Our chief design Is finished: but thou must add one knot more to oblige my gratitude, and then we shall Triumph with safety. Hermegild must die He knows too much. Dear Paradine, I sure shall thee, My appetite is grown so fierce. Let me Begin with thy moist lip— Pulls her to kiss him in the Chair. O! o! o! Help! help! Thou didst eat my lips. O! o! o!— O, o, o! Mercy Heaven! She die.