Of such a faithful spy I've needt: Go in, and if thy plot succeed, Fair youth, thou may'st depend on this, I'll pay thy service with a kiss. GRIDELINE sola. "Prithee, Cupid, no more [Exit Page. Let Sir Trusty and me From thy frolics be free. [Exit Grid. SCENE III. PAGE solus. the soft delicious view, Ever charming ever new! Greens of various shades arise, Deck'd with flow'rs of various dies: Paths by meeting paths are crost, † An opening scene discovers another view of the bower. "A thousand fairy scenes appear, Here a rock, and here a stream, Gay confusion, All a vision, all a dream !" SCENE IV. Queen and Page. QUEEN. At length the bow'ry vaults appear! A thousand terrors shake PAGE. my soul. Behold the brazen gate unbarr'd ! -She's fix'd in thought, I am not heard QUEEN. I see, I see my hands imbru'd In purple streams of reeking blood: PAGE. My eyes o'erflow, my heart is rent QUEEN. What shall my trembling soul pursue? PAGE. Behold, great queen, the place in view! [Apart. [Aside. QUEEN. Ye pow'rs instruct me what to do! PAGE. That bow'r will show The guilty foe. QUEEN. It is decreed-it shall be so; [After a pause. "I cannot see my lord repine (O that I could call him mine!) Why have not they most charms to move, PAGE. Her heart with rage and fondness glows. That conscious scene of love contains In yonder flow'ry vale she lies, Where those fair-blossom'd arbours rise. QUEEN. Let us haste to destroy Her guilt and her joy. "Wild and frantic is my grief! Fury driving, Mercy striving, Heaven in pity send relief! The pang's of love Ye pow'r's remove, Or dart your thunder at my head: Love and despair What heart can bear? Ease my soul, or strike me dead!' [Aside. [Exeunt. SCENE V. The Scene changes to the Pavilion as before. ROSAMOND sola. "Transporting pleasure! who can tell it! The kind, the dear, approaching lover, A sudden motion shakes the grove: SCENE VI. Enter to her the Queen with a Bowl in one hand, and a Dagger in the other. QUEEN. Thus arm'd with double death I come : ROSAMOND. What shall I say, or how reply QUEEN. 'Tis guilt that does thy tongue control. Or quickly drain the fatal bowl, Or this right hand performs its part, And plants a dagger in thy heart. ROSAMOND. Can Britain's queen give such commands, In her shall such revenge be seen? QUEEN. How black does my design appear? ROSAMOND. "When tides of youthful blood run high, And scenes of promis'd joys are nigh, Health presuming, Beauty blooming, Oh how dreadful 'tis to die!" QUEEN. To those whom foul dishonours stain, ROSAMOND. Who could resist great Henry's charms, "Think on the soft, the tender fires, QUEEN. And dost thou thus thy guilt deplore! [Aside. [Offering the dagger to her breast. Presumptuous woman! plead no more! ROSAMOND. O queen, your lifted arm restrain ! Behold these tears! |