ORIANA. [Soothingly.]

Accufe me not of hate; with equal eyes I judge your merit, and your virtue prize: Friendship, efteem, be yours; bereft before Of all my love, what can I offer more? Your rival's image in your worth I view, And what I lov'd in him, esteem in you; Had your complaint been first, it might have mov'd; He then had been efteem'd, and you belov'd: Then blame me not, fince what decides your fate, Is that you pleaded laft, and came too late.

CORISANDA.

Hard fate of merit! Fortune holds the fcale,
And still throws in the weight that must prevail!
Your rival is not of more charms poffeft,
A grain of better luck has made him bleft.

CONSTANTIUS. [Afide.]

To love, and have the power to poffefs, And yet refign, can Nature yield to this: Shall Nature, erring from her first command, Self-prefervation, fall by her own hand? By her own, the fprings of life destroy, The principles, and being of her joy? Tormenting thought! Can Nature then approve Bleffings obtain'd, by curfing those we love. Poffeffing, fhe is loft-renouncing-IWhere's then the doubt!-Die, die, Conftantius die. Honour, and Love, ye tyrants, I obey, Where-e'er your cruel call directs my way; To shame, to chains, or to a certain grave, Lead on, unpitying guides-behold your flave.

ORIANA.

Though love be wanting to relieve your care, Glory may make amends, with fame in war; Honour 's the nobleft chace, pursue that game, And recompenfe the lofs of love with fame; If still against fuch aids your love prevails, Yet abfence is a cure that never fails.

CONSTANTIUS.

Tyrannic Honour! what amends canft thou E'er make my heart, by flattering my brow? Vain race of fame, unless the conqueft prove In fearch of beauty, to conclude in love. Frail hope of aids! for time or chance to give, That love, which, fpite of cruelty, can live! From your difdain, fince no relief I find, I must love abfent, whom I love unkind; Though feas divide us, and though mountains part, That fatal form will ever haunt my heart. O dire reverse of hope, which I endure, From fure poffeffion, to despair as fure! Farewell, Oriana-yet, ere I remove, Can you refufe one tear to bleeding love?

Ah! no, take heed-turn, turn those eyes away, The charm 's fo ftrong, I fhall for ever stay. Princefs, rejoice for your next news shall be, Conftantius dies-to fet Oriana free.

IND OF THE FIRST ACT.

[Attendant flies away through the Air.

He

He comes, he comes, just ready to be caught,
Here Ardan fell, here, on this fatal spot
Our brother dy'd; here flow'd that precious gore,
The purple flood, which cries aloud for more:
Think on that image, fee him on the ground,
His life and fame both bury'd in one wound:
Think on the murtherer, with infulting pride
Tearing the weapon from his bleeding fide:
Oh think-

ARCABON.

What need these bloody images to move?
Revenge I will; and would fecure my love:
Why thould I of a frailty shameful be,
From which no mortal yet was ever free;
Not fierce Medea, mistress of our art,
Nor Circe, nor Calypfo 'fcap'd the smart.
If hell has power, both paffions I will please,
My vengeance and my love fhall both have ease.
Lead on, magician, make revenge fecure,
My hand 's as ready, and shall strike as fure.

[They go off. ORIANA and CORISANDA entering from the lower Part of the Scene.

ORIANA.

Thrice happy they, who thus in filent groves, From courts retir'd, poffefs their peaceful loves. Of royal maids, how wretched is the fate, Born only to be victims of the ftate; Our hopes, our wishes, all our paffions ty'd For public ufe; the flaves of others pride. Here let us wait th' event, on which alone Depends my peace, I tremble till 'tis known.

CORISANDA.

So generous this Emperor's love does feem, "Twould justify a change, to change for him. ORIANA.

Alas! thou know'ft not men, their oaths, and arts Of feigning truth, with treason in their hearts. Who now's ador'd, may the next hour displease, At first their cure, and after their disease.

[Flourish of Mufic as in the Foreft.

CORISANDA.

Oft we have heard fuch airy founds as these Salute us as we país.

Enter feveral of Arcalaus' Magicians finging and dancing, reprefenting Shepherds, Shepherdeffes, and Paijans.

A Shepherd, finging.

Follow ye nymphs and fhepherds all,
Come celebrate the festival,

And merrily fing, and fport, and play,
For 'tis Oriana's nuptial day.

[A Dance of Shepherds and Shepherdeles. Then a
Shepherdess addreffing to Oriana, fings.]
Queen of Britain, and of love,

Be happy as the bleft above;
Graces numberless attend thee,

The Gods as many bleffings fend thee:
Be happy as the bleft above,
Queen of Britain, and of love.

Finish the reft, and then be free as air.
My eyes ne'er yet beheld a form so fair.
Happy beyond my wifh, I go to prove
At once, the joys of fweet revenge and love.

[Walks down the Scene after them. Enter AMADIS and FLORESTAN. AMADIS.

Miftake me not-no-Amadis fhall die,
If fhe is pleas'd, but not disturb her joy;
Nice honor ftill engages to requite

Falfe miftreffes, and friends, with flight for flight:
But if, like mine, the ftubborn heart retain
A wilful tenderness, the brave must feign,
In private grief, but with a careless scorn
In public, feem to triumph, not to mourn.

FLORESTAN.

Hard is the task, in love or grief to feign;
When paffion is fincere, it will complain:
Doubts which from rumour rise, you should fufpend.
From evil tongues what virtue can defend?
In love, who injures by a rafh distrust,
Is the aggreffor, and the first unjust.
AMADIS.

If fhe is true, why all this nuptial noife,
Still echoing as we pafs her guilty joys?
Who to a woman trufts his peace of mind,
Trufts a frail bark, with a tempestuous wind.
Thus to Ulyffes, on the Stygian coaft
His fate enquiring, fpake Atrides' ghost;

Of all the plagues with which the world is curft,

Of every ill, a woman is the worft;

Truft not a woman.-Well might he advise,
Who perish'd by his wife's adulteries.

FLORESTAN.

Thus in defpair, what most we love, we wrong, Not heaven efcapes the impious Atheist's tongue.

AMADIS.

Enticing crocodiles, whofe tears are death, Syrens, who murder with enchanting breath:

Like

Like Egypt's temples, dazzling to the fight, Pompously deck'd, all gaudy, gay, and bright; With glittering gold, and fparkling gems they fhine, But apes and monkies are the Gods within.

FLORESTAN.

My love attends with pain, while you pursue This angry theme ;-I have a mistress too : The faultlefs form no fecret ftains difgrace, A beauteous mind unblemish'd as her face; Not painted and adorn'd to varnish fin, Without all angel, all divine within; By truth maintaining what by love she got; A heaven without a cloud, a fun without a spot. AMADIS. [Embracing him.]

Forgive the vifions of my frantic brain, Far from the man I love be all fuch pain: By the immortal Gods I fwear, my friend, The Fates to me no greater joy could fend, Than that your labors meet a profperous end. After fo many glorious toils, that you Have found a mistress beautiful and true.

ORIANA and CORISANDA. [Without.] Help, help, oh! Heavens, help

ARCALAUS.

Without thy life, my vengeance is complete : Yet pause, and be advis'd; avoid thy fate; Behold thy friend borne to eternal chains, Remember Ardan now, and count thy gains.

AMADIS.

Like Ardan's be thy fate, unpitied fall: Thus I'll at once revenge, and free them all.

[Fight, Arcalaus ftill retreating. A fudden found of Inftruments expreffing Terror and Horror, with Thunder at the fame Time. Monfters and Dams rife from under the Stage, while others fly down from above, croffing to and fro in Confufion, during which the Stage is darkened. On a fudden a Fleurifb of contrary Mufic fucceeds; the Shy clears, and the whole Scene changes to a delightful Vale, Amadis appearing leaning on his Sword, furrounded by Shepherds and Shepherdeffes, who with Songs, Mufic and Dances, perform the following Enchantment.] To be fung in full Chorus.

Love, creator Love, appear,
Attend and hear;
Appear, appear, appear.

A Single Voice.

Love, creator Love, Parent of heaven and earth,

Delight of Gods above;

To thee all Nature owes her birth;
Love, creator Love.

Another fingle Voice.

All that in ambient air does move,
Or teems on fertile fields below,
Or fparkles in the skies above,

Or does in rolling waters flow,
Spring from the feeds which thou doft sow,
Love, creator Love.

Then Jove ufurps his father's crown,

Inftructing mortals to afpire;
The father would destroy the fon,
The fon dethrones the fire.
The Titans, to regain their right,
Prepare to try a fecond fight,
Briareus arms his hundred hands,

And marches forth the bold gigantic bands.

Pelion upon Offa thrown, Steep Olympus they invade,

Gods and giants tumble down,
And Mars is foil'd by Encelade.

Horror, confufion, dreadful ire,
Daggers, poifon, fword and fire,
To execute the deftin'd wrath conspire.
The furies lofe their snaky rods,

And lash both men and Gods.
Chorus repeat the laft Stanza.
Then Symphony for Love.
A fingle Voice.

But when Love bids Difcord ceafe,
The jarring feeds unite in peace;
O the pleasures paft expreffing!
O the rapture of poffeffing!
Melting, dying, heavenly bleffing,
O the rapture of poffeffing!
Hail to Love, and welcome joy!
Hail to the delicious boy!

In Cyprus firft the God was known,

Then wandering, wandering o'er the main, He in Britannia fix'd his reign, And in Oriana's eyes his throne.

ORIANA.

In what enchanted regions am I lost? Am I alive? or wander here a ghost? Art thou too dead?

[Starting at the fight of Amadis

AMADIS.

Where-e'er you are, the realms of blifs must be; I fee my Goddess, and 'tis heaven to fee.

[Throwing away his fword, is feized and bound. Stand off, and give me way

ORIANA.

-No, keep him there, Th' ungrateful traitor, let him not come near: Convey the wretch where Sifyphus atones For crimes enormous, and where Tityus groans, With robbers, and with murth'rers let him prove Immortal pains-for he has murder'd love.

AMADIS.

Have I done this?---

ORIANA.

-Bafe and perfidious man?

Let me be heard, and answer if you can.
Was it your love, when trembling by your fide
I wept, and I implor'd, and almoft dy'd,
Urging your ftay: Was it your love that bore
Your faithlefs veffel from the Britifh fhore?
What faid I not, upon the fatal night,
When you avow'd your meditated flight?
Was it your love that prompted you to part,
To leave me dying, and to break
my heart?
See whom you fled, inhuman and ingrate,
Repent your folly-but repent too late.

AMADIS.

Mistaken Princess; by the stars above, The powers below, and by immortal Jove Unwilling and compell'd

ORIANA.

Unwilling and compell'd! vain, vain pretence For bafe neglect, and cold indifference Was it your love, when by thofe stars above, Thofe powers below, and that immortal Jove, You vow'd, before the first revolving moon, You would return? Did you return?-The fun Thrice round the circled globe was feen to move, You neither came, nor fent-was this your love?

AMADIS.

Thrice has that fun beheld me on your coaft, By tempefts beaten, and in shipwrecks loft.

ORIANA.

And yet you chofe thofe perils of the fea, Of rocks, and ftorms-or any thing-but me. The raging ocean, and the winter wind, Touch'd at my paffion, with my wishes join'd, No image, but of certain fate, appear'd, Lefs I your abfence, than your danger, fear'd; In vain they threaten'd, and I fued in vain, More deaf than ftorms, more cruel than the main;

No

In vain you'd cover, with the thirst of fame, And honor's call, an odious traitor's name : Could honor fuch vile perfidy approve?

Is it no honor to be true to love;

O Venus! parent of the Trojan race,
In Britain too, fome remnants found a place;
From Brute defcending in a line direct,

Within these veins thy favourite blood respect ;
Mother of love, by men and Gods rever'd,
Confirm thefe vows, and let this prayer be heard.
The Briton to the Gaul henceforth fhall bear
Immortal hatred, and eternal war;

Nor league, nor commerce, let the nations know,
But feeds of everlafting difcord grow;

With fire and fword the faithlefs race pursue,
This vengeance to my injur'd love is due:
Rife from our ashes fome avenging hand,

To curb these tyrants, and invade their land;

Waves fight with waves, and fhores with fhores engage, And let our fons inherit the fame rage.

No, not a word. What fpecious forc'd pretence Would you invent, to gild a weak defence? To falfe Æneas, when 'twas given by fate

To tread the paths of death, arsi view the Stygian ftate,
Forfaken Dido was the first that stood

To ftrike his eye, her bofom bath'd in blood
Fresh from her wound: Pale horror and affright
Seiz'd the falfe man, confounded at the fight,
Trembling he gaz'd, and fome faint words he spoke,
Some tears he shed, which, with disdainful look,
Unmov'd she heard, and faw, nor heeded more
Than the firm rock, when faithlefs tempefts roar,
With one last look, his falfenefs the upbraids,
Then fullenly retires, and feeks eternal fhades.
Lead me, O lead me where the bleeding Queen,
With just reproaches loads perfidious men,
Banish'd from joy, from empire, and from light,
In death involve me, and in endless night,
But keep that odious object—from my fight.
Enter ARCALAUS.

ARCALAUS.

With her laft words, fhe fign'd his dying breath, Convey him ftraight to tortures, and to death.