ROSAMON D.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.

A prospect of Woodstock park, terminating in the bower.

Enter QUEEN and PAGE.

QUEEN. WHAT place is here!

What scenes appear!

Where'er I turn my eyes,

All around

Enchanted ground

And soft Elysiums rise:

Flow'ry mountains,

Mossy fountains,

Shady woods,

Crystal floods,

With wild variety surprise,

As o'er the hollow vaults we walk',
A hundred echoes round us talk:

From hill to hill the voice is tost,
Rocks rebounding,

Caves resounding,

Not a single word is lost.

1 Alluding to the famous echo in Woodstock park.

PAGE. There gentle Rosamond immured Lives from the world and you secured.

QUEEN. Curse on the name! I faint, I die, With secret pangs of jealousy.—

[Aside.

PAGE. There does the pensive beauty mourn,

And languish for her lord's return.

QUEEN. Death and confusion! I'm too slow

-[Aside.

Show me the happy mansion, show—

PAGE. Great Henry there

QUEEN. Trifler, no more!

PAGE. -Great Henry there

Will soon forget the toils of war.

QUEEN. No more! the happy mansion show

That holds this lovely guilty foe.

My wrath, like that of heav'n, shall rise,

And blast her in her paradise.

PAGE. Behold on yonder rising ground

The bower, that wanders

In meanders,

Ever bending,

Never ending,

Glades on glades,

Shades in shades,

Running an eternal round.

QUEEN. In such an endless maze I rove,
Lost in labyrinths of love,

My breast with hoarded vengeance burns,
While fear and rage

With hope engage,

And rule my wav'ring soul by turns.

PAGE. The path yon verdant field divides, Which to the soft confinement guides.

QUEEN. Eleonora, think betimes,
What are thy hated rival's crimes!
Whither, ah whither dost thou go!
What has she done to move thee so!
-Does she not warm with guilty fires
The faithless lord of my desires?
Have not her fatal arts remov'd

My Henry from my arms?

"Tis her crime to be lov'd,

'Tis her crime to have charms.
Let us fly, let us fly,

She shall die, she shall die.

I feel, I feel my heart relent:

How could the fair be innocent!

To a monarch like mine,
Who would not resign!

One so great and so brave

All hearts must enslave.

PAGE. Hark, hark! what sound invades my ear?

The conqueror's approach I hear.

He comes, victorious Henry comes!
Hautboys, trumpets, fifes, and drums,
In dreadful concert join'd.

Send from afar

A sound of war,

And fill with horror ev'ry wind.

QUEEN. Henry returns from danger free!

Henry returns!--but not to me.

He comes his Rosamond to greet,

And lay his laurels at her feet,
His vows impatient to renew;
His vows, to Eleonora due.

Here shall the happy nymph detain,
(While of his absence I complain),
Hid in her mazy, wanton bower,
My lord, my life, my conqueror.
No, no, 'tis decreed

The trait'ress shall bleed:
No fear shall alarm,

No pity disarm;

In my rage shall be seen

The revenge of a queen.

SCENE II.

The entry of the bower.

SIR TRUSTY, knight of the bower, solus. How unhappy is he,

That is tied to a she,

And fam'd for his wit and his beauty!

For of us pretty fellows

Our wives are so jealous,

They ne'er have enough of our duty.
But hah! my limbs begin to quiver,
I glow, I burn, I freeze, I shiver;

Whence rises this convulsive strife?
I smell a shrew!

SCENE III.

GRIDELINE and SIR TRUSTY.

GRID. Faithless varlet, art thou there?

SIR TRUSTY. My love, my dove, my charming fair!
GRID. Monster, thy wheedling tricks I know.
SIR TRUSTY. Why wilt thou call thy turtle so?
GRID. Cheat not me with false caresses.

SIR TRUSTY. Let me stop thy mouth with kisses.
GRID. Those to fair Rosamond are due.

SIR TRUSTY. She is not half so fair as you.
GRID. She views thee with a lover's eye.

SIR TRUSTY. I'll still be thine, and let her die.
GRID. No, no, 'tis plain. Thy frauds I see,
Traitor to thy king and me!

SIR TRUSTY. O Grideline! consult thy glass,
Behold that sweet bewitching face,

Those blooming cheeks, that lovely hue!
Ev'ry feature

(Charming creature)

Will convince you I am true.

GRID O how blest were Grideline,

Could I call sir Trusty mine!

Did he not cover amorous wiles

With soft, but ah! deceiving smiles :
How should I revel in delight,

The spouse of such a peerless knight!

SIR TRUSTY. At length the storm begins to cease,

I've sooth'd and flatter'd her to peace.

"Tis now my turn to tyrannize :

I feel, I feel my fury rise!

Tigress, begone.

[Aside.