Poems upon Several Occasions/The British Enchanters/Act 4

by George Granville

ACT IV.SCENE I.

SCENE, A Grove, &c.

Enter Arcabon and Arcalaus.

Arcab. His first Excuses I to Forms allow'd,
And deem'd 'em Policy before the Croud;
But when alone, in Shades where Lovers hide,
Death! Hell! and Furies! then to be deny'd!

Arcal. Of Women Tyrants 'tis the common Doom,
Each haughtily sets out in Beauty's Bloom,
'Till late repenting, to redeem the past,
You turn abandoned Prostitutes at last.

Arcab. Who Hate declares, is sure of Hate again:
Rage begets Rage, Disdain provokes Disdain:
Why, why, alas, shou'd Love less equal prove?
Why is not Love return'd with mutual Love?

Arcal. Blessings when cheap, or certain, we despise;
From sure Possession what Desire can rise?
Love, like Ambition, dies as 'tis enjoy'd,
By Doubt provok'd, by Certainty destroy'd.

Arcab. To govern Love! alas! what Woman can?
Yet 'tis an easie Province to a Man.

Why am I then of Hope abandon'd quite?
There is a Cure——I'd ask it——if I might.
Forgive me, Brother, if I pry too far;
I've learnt—my Rival is your Pris'ner here;
If that be true——

Arcal. What thence wou'd you infer?

Arcab. What but her Death——When Amadis is free
From Hopes of her, there may be Hope for me.

Arcal. Thou Cloud to his bright Juno! Fool, shall lie
Who has lov'd her, ever descend to thee?

Arcab. Much vainer Fool art thou; where are those Charms
That are to tempt a Princess to thy Arms?
Thou Vulcan to Oriana's Mars.

Arcal. But yet,
This Vulcan has that Mars within his Net.
Your Counsel comes too late, for 'tis decreed,
To make the Woman sure, the Man shall bleed.

[Exit Arcalaus surlily.

Arcab. First perish thou, Earth, Air, and Seas and Sky,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Confounded in one Heap of Chaos lie,
And ev'ry other living Creature die.
I burn, I burn; the Storm that's in my Mind
Kindles my Heart, like Fires provok'd by Wind:
Love and Resentment, Wishes and Disdain,
Blow all at once, like Winds that plough the Main.

Furies, Alecto, aid my just Design: $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
But if, averse to Mercy, you decline
The pious Task, assist me, Pow'rs divine;
Just Gods, and thou their King, Imperial Jove,
Strike whom you please, but save the Man I love.[Exit.

The SCENE changes to a pleasant Garden, Oriana
sitting in a Bower at the lower Part of the scene, list'ning
to soft Musick. Arcalaus enters bowing respectfully; she
rises; they advance slowly towards the Stage in mute
Discourse, 'till the Musick ceases.

Arcal. Of Freedom lost, unjustly you complain,
Born to command, where-e'er you come, you reign;
No Fetters here you wear, but others bind,
And not a Prison, but an Empire find.

Ori. Death I expect, and I desire it too,
'Tis all the Mercy to be wish'd from you.
To die is to be free: Oh let me find
A speedy Death; that Freedom wou'd be kind.

Arcal. Too cruel to suspect such Ills were meant,
Here is no Death, but what your Eyes present:
O may they reign, those Arbiters of Fate,
Immortal, as the Loves that they create.
We know the Cause of this prepost'rous Grief,
And we shou'd pity, were there no Relief.

One Lover lost, have you not Millions more?
Can you complain of Want, whom all adore?
All Hearts are yours, ev'n mine, that fierce and free
Ranging at large, disdain’d Captivity,
Caught by your Charms, the Savage trembling lies,
And prostrate in his Chain, for Mercy dies.

Ori. Respect is limited to Pow'r alone, $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Beauty distrest, like Kings from Empire thrown,
Each Insolent invades, regardless of a Frown.
How art thou chang'd, ah wretched Princess! now,
When ev'ry Slave that loves, dares tell thee so!

Arcal. If I do love, the Fault is in your Eyes,
Blame them that wound, and not the Slave that dies:
If we may love, then sure we may declare;
If we may not, ah why are you so fair!
Who can behold those Lips, that Neck, this Waste,
That Form divine, and not be mad to taste?

Ori. Pluck out these Eyes, revenge thee on my Face,
Tear off my Cheeks, and root up ev'ry Grace,
Disfigure, kill me, kill me instantly,
Thus may’st thou free thy self at once, and me.
 
Arcal. Such strange Commands’twere impious to obey,
I wou'd revenge my self a gentler Way.

[Takes her by the Hand, she snatches it away disdainfully,
he turns surlily upon her.

Some Hope there is that you may change your Mind;
Madam, you have not always been unkind.

Ori. Some Whirlwind bear me from this odious Place,
Earth open wide, and bury my Disgrace;
Save me, ye Pow'rs, from violence and Shame,
Assist my Virtue, and protect my Fame.

Arcal. Love, with Submission first begins in Course,
But when that fails, a sure Reserve is Force:[Aside.
The nicest Dames, who our Embraces shun,
Wait only a Pretence, and Force is one:
She who thro' Frailty yields, Dishonour gains,
But she that's forc'd, her Innocence retains:
Debtors and Slaves for Favours they bestow,
Invading, we are free, and nothing owe.
No Tyes of Love or Gratitude constrain,
But as we like, we leave, or come again,
It shall be so——
Since softer Arguments have prov'd so vain,
Force is the last——Resist it if you can.

[Seizes her, she struggles and breaks from him.

Ori. Help, help, ye Gods!

Arcal. Who with such Courage can resist Desire,
With what a Rage she'll love when Raptures fire!
Behold in Chains your vanquish'd Minion lies,
And if for nothing but this Scorn, he dies.

[Amadis fast bound in Chains. Oriana and Amadis at
Sight of each other start and look amaz'd. Arcalaus
advances to stab him. Arcabon in the Instant enters,
seizes Oriana, holding a Dagger at her Breast.
Arcalaus with-holds his Blow.

Arcab. Strike boldly, Murd'rer, strike him to the Ground,
While thus my Dagger answers ev'ry Wound;
Drink deep the Blood from the most mortal Part,
I'll do thee reason in Oriana's Heart.
By what new Magick is thy Vengeance charm'd?
Trembles thy Hand, before a Man unarm'd?
When by Oriana's Death, debarr'd of Bliss,
Then triumph in the Fate of Amadis.

Ori. Strike, my Deliv'rer, 'tis a friendly Stroke,
I shun thee not, but rather wou'd provoke:
Death to the Wretched is an end of Care,
But yet, methinks he might that Victim spare.

[Pointing to Amadis.

Amad. Burst, burst these Fetters, that like Perseus I
May to the Succour of the Charmer fly;
My Soul, till now, no Dangers cou'd affright,
But trembles, like a Coward's, at this Sight.

Arcab. So passionate! But I'll revenge it here.

Arcal. Hold, Fury, or I strike as home; forbear.

[She offering at Oriana, he offers at Amadis, both
withhold their Blow.

Had I enjoy'd——A Curse on the Reprieve!
Thou might'st have struck, and had the Lover's Leave.

Trumpets sound, enter hastily Urganda with a numerous
Train of Attendants.

Urg. To Arms, to Arms, ye Spirits of the Air, $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Ye Guardians of the Brave, and of the Fair,
Leave your bright Mansions, and in Arms appear.

[Thunder, Trumpets, Kettle-drums, and other warlike
Instruments. Spirits descend in Clouds, some continue
in the Air, playing upon Instruments of War. Others
remain rang'd as for Battel. Others descend upon the
Stage, and draw up in Order of Battel by Amadis,
whom Urganda frees, presenting him a Sword. Arcabon
and Arcalaus look astonish'd, and retire to the
opposite Side of the Stage. Oriana goes over to Urganda.

Arcal. Fly quick, ye Dæmons, from your black Abodes,
And try another Combat with the Gods,
Blue Fires and pestilential Fumes arise,
And flaming Fountains spout against the Skies,
From their broad Roots these Oaks and Cedars tear,
Burn like my Love, and rage like my Despair.

[Trumpets sound on Arcabon's Side, which are answer'd on
Urganda's. The Grove appears in an Instant all in a
Flame. Fountains from below cast up Fire as in Spouts;
a Rain of Fire from above. The Sky darken'd the while
Thunder and Lightning. Dæmons range themselves on
the Stage by Arcalaus; other Dæmons face Urganda's
Spirits in the Air. Arcalaus advances before his Party
with his Sword drawn to Amadis.

Arcal. Let Heav'n and Hell stand neuter, while we try,
On equal Terms, which of us two shall die.

[Arcalaus and Amadis engage at the Head of their Parties:
A fight at the same time in the Air, and upon the
Stage: Martial Musick the while mixt with Instruments
of Horror: Thunder and Lightning. The Dæmons
are overcome; Arcalaus falls.

Amad. Thou might'st have learnt more Policy from Hell,
Than tempt the Sword by which thy Brother fell.[To Arcalnus falling.

Urg. Sound Tunes of Triumph all ye Winds, and bear
Your Notes aloft, that Heav'n and Earth may hear;
And thou, O Sun, shine out serene and gay,
And bright, as when the Giants lost the Day.

[The sky clears, and Tunes of Triumph resound from all
Parts of the Theatre. Amadis approaches Oriana,
bowing respectfully. Arcabon the while stands sullen
and observing.

Amad. While Amadis Oriana's Love possest,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Secure of Empire in that beauteous Breast,
Not Jove, the King of Gods, like Amadis was blest.

Ori. While to Oriana Amadis was true,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Nor wand'ring Flames to distant Climates drew,
No Heav'n, but only Love, the pleas'd Oriana knew.

Amad. That Heav'n of Love, alas! is mine no more
Braving those Pow'rs by whom she falsly swore,
She to Constantius wou'd those Charms resign,
If Oaths cou'd bind, that shou'd be only mine.

Ori. With a feign'd Falshood you'd evade your Part
Of Guilt, and tax a tender faithful Heart:
While by such Ways you'd hide a conscious Flame,
The only Virtue you have left, is Shame.

[Turning disdainfully from him.

Amad. But shou'd this injur'd Vassal you reject
Prove true, ah what Return might he expect?

[Approaching tenderly.

Ori. Tho' brave Constantius charms, with ev'ry Art,
That can entice a tender Virgin's Heart,
Whether he shines for Glory or Delight,
To tempt Ambition, or enchant the Sight,
Were Amadis restor'd to my Esteem,
I wou'd reject a Deity for him.

Amad. Tho' false as watry Bubbles blown by Wind,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Fix'd in my Soul, and rooted in my Mind,
I love Oriana, faithless and unkind:

Oh were she kind, and faithful, as she's fair,
For her alone I'd live, and die for her.

Urg. Adjourn these Murmurs of unquiet Love,
And from this Scene of Rage and Fate remove.
Thy Empire, Arcabon, concludes this Hour,
Short is the Date of all flagitious Pow'r;
Spar'd be thy Life, that thou may'st living bear
The Torments of the Damn'd in thy Despair.
Where Zephyrs only breathe, in Myrtle Groves,
There will I lead you to debate your Loves.

[Urganda takes Oriana's Hand leading her out. As
Amadis is following, Arcabon takes him by the Robe.

Arcab. What, not one Look! not one dissembling Smile,
To thank me for your Life! Or to beguile
Despair? Cold and ungrateful as thou art,
Hence from my Sight for ever, and my Heart.

[Lets go her Hold with an Air of Contempt.

Back, Soldier, to the Camp, thy proper Sphere,

Stick to thy Trade, dull Hero, follow War,
Useless to Women; thou meer Image, meant
To raise Desire, and then to disappoint.

[Amadis goes out.

So ready to be gone!——Barbarian, stay——

He's gone, and Love returns, and Pride gives way.
Oh stay, come back——Horror and Hell! I burn!
I rage! I rave! I die!——Return, return.

Eternal Racks my tortur'd Bosom tear,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Vultures with endless Pangs are gnawing there,
Fury! Distraction! I am all Despair.
Burning with Love, may' thou ne'er aim at Bliss,
But Thunder shake thy Limbs, and Lightning blast thy Kiss,
While pale, aghast, a Spectre I stand by,
Pleas'd at the Terrors that distract thy Joy;
Plague of my Life! thy want of Pow'r shall be
A Curse to her, worse than thy Scorn to me.

[Exit.

CHORUS.

The Battel's done,
Our Wars are over,
The Battel's done,
Let Lawrels crown
The Heads that rugged Steel did cover,
Let Myrtles too
Bring Peace for ever,
Let Myrtles too
Adorn the Brow
That bent beneath the warlike Beaver.
Let Kisses, Embraces,
Dying Eyes, and kind Glances,
Let Kisses, Embraces,
And tender Caresses
Give Warmth to our amorous Trances.

Let Trumpets and Tymbals,
Let Atabals and Cymbals,
Let Drums and Hautboys give over;
But let Flutes
And let Lutes
Our Passions excite
To gentle Delight,
And every Mars be a Lover.