PAGE.

My eyes o'erflow, my heart is rent
To hear Britannia's queen lament.

QUEEN.

What shall my trembling soul pursue?

PAGE.

Behold, great queen, the place in view!

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 ;

I cannot see my lord repine

(O that I could call him mine!)

[Aside.

[After a pause.

Why have not they most charms to move,
Whose bosoms burn with purest love?

PAGE.

Her heart with rage and fondness glows.
O jealousy, thou hell of woes!

That conscious scene of love contains
The fatal cause of all your pains;

In yonder flow'ry vale she lies,

Where those fair-blossom'd arbors 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 pangs of love

Ye pow'rs 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!
When our longing eyes discover
The kind, the dear, approaching lover,
Who can utter, or conceal it!

A sudden motion shakes the grove:
I hear the steps of him I love;
Prepare, my soul, to meet thy bliss!
-Death to my eyes; what sight is this?
The queen, th' offended queen I see;
-Open, O earth! and swallow me!

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 :
Behold, vain wretch, behold thy doom!
Thy crimes to their full period tend,
And soon by this, or this, shall end.

ROSAMOND.

What shall I say, or how reply
To threats of injur'd majesty?

QUEEN.

'Tis guilt that does thy tongue controul.
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,
Or dip in blood those sacred hands?

In her shall such revenge be seen?
Far be that from Britain's queen!
QUEEN.

How black does my design appear!
Was ever mercy so severe ?

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,
Life itself should be a pain.

ROSAMOND.

Who could resist great Henry's charms,
And drive the hero from her arms?

Think on the soft, the tender fires,
Melting thoughts, and gay desires,
That in your own warm bosom rise,
When languishing with love-sick eyes
That great, that charming man you see:
Think on yourself, and pity me!

QUEEN.

[Aside.

And dost thou thus thy guilt deplore? [Offering the dagger to her breast. Presumptuous woman plead no more!

ROSAMOND.

Tho' I live wretched, let me live.
In some deep dungeon let me lie,
Cover'd from ev'ry human eye,
Banish'd the day, debarr'd the light;
Where shades of everlasting night
May this unhappy face disarm,
And cast a veil o'er ev'ry charm:
Offended heaven I'll there adore,
Nor see the sun, nor Henry more.
QUEEN.

Moving language, shining tears,
Glowing guilt, and graceful fears,
Kindling pity, kindling rage,
At once provoke me, and assuage.

ROSAMOND.

What shall I do to pacify
Your kindled vengeance?

QUEEN.

[Aside.

Thou shalt die.

ROSAMOND.

Give me but one short moment's stay.

-O Henry, why so far away?

QUEEN.

[Offering the dagger.

[Aside.

[Offering the dagger.

ROSAMOND.

spare my blood,

Prepare to welter in a flood

Of streaming gore.

And let me grasp the deadly bowl.

[Takes the bowl in her hand.

QUEEN.

Ye pow'rs, how pity rends my soul!

ROSAMOND.

Thus prostrate at your feet I fall.

[Aside.

[Falling on her knees.

O let me still for mercy call!

Accept, great queen, like injur'd heaven,

The soul that begs to be forgiven:

If in the latest gasp of breath,
If in the dreadful pains of death,
When the cold damp bedews your brow,
You hope for mercy, show it now.

QUEEN.

Mercy to lighter crimes is due,

Horrors and death shall thine pursue.

ROSAMOND,

[Offering the dagger.

Thus I prevent the fatal blow.
-Whither, ah! whither shall I go?

QUEEN.

Where thy past life thou shalt lament,
And wish thou hadst been innocent.

ROSAMOND.

Tyrant to aggravate the stroke,
And wound a heart, already broke !
My dying soul with fury burns,
And slighted grief to madness turns.
Think not, thou author of my woe,
That Rosamond will leave thee so:
At dead of night,

A glaring sprite,
With hideous screams

I'll haunt thy dreams,

And when the painful night withdraws,
My Henry shall revenge my cause.
O whither does my frenzy drive!
Forgive my rage, your wrongs forgive.
My veins are froze; my blood grows chill;
The weary springs of life stand still;
The sleep of death benumbs all o'er
My fainting limbs, and I'm no more.

QUEEN.

[Drinks.

[Falls on the couch.

Hear, and observe your queen's commands.

[To her attendants.

Beneath those hills a convent stands,
Where the fam'd streams of Isis stray;
Thither the breathless corse convey,