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SIR TRUSTY, Keeper of the Bower. PAGE.
GRIDELINE, Wife to Sir Trusty.
Guardian Angels, &c.
SCENE, WOODSTOCK PARK.
WHAT place is here!
Where'er I turn my eyes,
And soft Elysiums rise:
With wild variety surprise.
Not a single word is lost."
There gentle Rosamond immured
* Alluding to the famous Echo in Woodstock Park.
Curse on the name! I faint, I die,
There does the pensive beauty mourn,
Death and confusion! I'm too slow- [Aside. Show me the happy mansion, show
No more! the happy mansion show
In such an endless maze I rove,
Lost in labyrinths of love.
My breast with hoarded vengeance burns,
With hope engage,
And rule my wav'ring soul by turns.
The path yon verdant field divides,
Which to the soft confinement guides.
Eleonora, think betimes,
What are thy hated rival's crimes!
'Tis her crime to be lov'd,
"Tis her crime to have charms.
She shall die, she shall die.
All hearts must enslave."
Hark, hark! what sound invades my ear?
Send from afar
A sound of war,
And fill with horror ev'ry wind."
Henry returns, from danger free!
Hid in her mazy, wanton bower,
The traitress shall bleed;
In my rage shall be seen
The revenge of a queen."
The Entry of the Bower.
SIR TRUSTY, Knight of the Bower, solus.
"How unhappy is he,
That is ty'd 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,
My fears are true,
GRIDELINE AND SIR TRUSTY.
Faithless varlet, art thou there?
My love, my dove, my charming fair!
Monster, thy wheedling tricks I know.