THE RAPE: OR, THE Innocent Impostors, A TRAGEDY. Acted at the Theatre-Royal By Their MAJESTY'S SERVANTS.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Hom. 
LONDON, Printed for F. Saunders, at the Blue-Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New-Exchange, 1692.   

To the Right Honourable CHARLES EARL OF DORSET and MIDDLESEX, etc.  
My Lord,  
WEre I not sufficiently assured, that your Candour is as great as your Judgement, I should not have exposed the following Trifle to your Lordship's Censure; whose discerning Eyes would not fail to discover the smallest fault, did not your Goodness draw a veil over them: It is to that I humbly offer up this youthful Essay, which aims no higher than to obtain your Pardon, since it cannot pretend to your Approbation, having nothing to recommend it, but the Zeal of the Presenter: And this, my Lord, has been growing up with me from my earliest Years; that extraordinary Genius, and those admirable Qualifications, which distinguish your Lordship from the rest of Mankind, having created in me a proportionable respect and Reverence for their Owner, as soon as I was capable to taste true Sense, or to relish the excellency of those Writings with which your Lordship has sometimes been pleased to oblige the World. But as these Considerations gave me a very great Esteem and Veneration for your Lordship; so that which raised them to the highest degree imaginable, is that hearty Zeal, and unaffected Sincerity, with which you daily labour to support the Interest of that Government, for which I have been no inconsiderable Sufferer: And as this engages me in your Lordship's Service with all possible Devotion, so give me leave to hope that it entitles me in some measure to your Lordship's Protection; since the very same Principle causes us mean ones to suffer for it, which engages those of your exalted Quality to strengthen and uphold it; namely, a true Affection to the Protestant Religion, and the English Liberties; Both which were visibly struck at, and had infallibly been overturned, had not Providence made use of their present Majesties to rescue and relieve them. But I forget that I am robbing the Public, while I detain you from your more serious Employments; I shall only beg your Lordship not to judge of the respect I bear you by the meanness of this Present; but to believe, that I shall always look upon the Honour of your Lordship's Patronage, as too great a Recompense for all my former Sufferings; and that no Title can be more considerable to me, than that of,  
MY LORD, Your Lordship's Most Obedient, Most Obliged, and Most Humble Servant, etc.   

PROLOGUE, Spoke by Mr. BETTERTON.  
'TIS not long since when the well judging Age,  
Viewed nicely all the Labours of the Stage?  
Then ablest Writers hardly purchased Praise;  
Which now each puny Scribbler gets with ease.  
True Nature then and solid Sense took place,  
Now ackward Farce prevails; with dull Grimace.  
Thus little Poets cheaply get a Name,  
Whilst noke's, and Leigh insure the Author's fame.  
It were less strange if such lewd Toys as these  
Did the loose Race of capering Monsieurs please:  
Who still their Judgements like their Stomachs treat,  
Loath hearty Dishes of substantial Meat,  
And Write and Judge as slightly as they eat.  
But why should English, who in both excel,  
And always used to feed, and judge so well,  
Be now content on Snails or Herbs to dine;  
And for light Kick-Shaws quit the lusty Chine?  
Were our great Ben alive, how would he rage!  
How would he scourge the folly of this Age,  
And lash the Vermin who infect the Stage!  
Who with so little Nature, and less Art,  
A Theatre would to a Booth convert:  
For shame redeem your Credit, and forbear  
To favour Drolls, such Piteous Smithfield Ware:  
Try if to Night you can digest a Play  
Cooked in the plain, but wholesome English way.  
'Tis no new fashioned Mess, nor savoured strong  
With Poignant Sauce, of Dance, Machine, and Song.  
It boasts no gaudy Scenes to Court the view,  
And to save Wit, but little Music too.  
Nay, what is worse, prepare for Mortial noise,  
Trumpet, and Drum, instead of Flute and Voice.  
Yet let no Beau, who hears the frightful sounds,  
Start, or look pale at thought of Blood, and Wounds.  
But Cock, talk big, and hide his growing fears:  
A Playhouse Drum ne'er beats for Volunteers.   

EPILOGUE  By Mr. SHADWELL. Spoken by Mrs. Bracegirdle. 
HOw full of Beaus this Circle does appear  
Who hate all Camps, and will not leave us here,  
For all the Fame of Talbot, Sidney, Vere.  
'Las a Beau's tender, subject to catch cold,  
And a rough Camp will make one look so old;  
The cold so pinch, the heat so tan his Face,  
He ne'er can ogle more with any Grace:  
Poor miserable Beau is quite undone,  
The lustre of his dear Complexion gone;  
Besides Wounds in the Face, alack! and Woe!  
Some cruel Bullet may cut off a Beau:  
Out on't, who but a Sot would not prefer  
Pulvillio to Match and Gunpowder?  
Or who would leave, so careless of dear Gut,  
Locket's or Long's, for a vile Sutler's Hut?  
Or would lie cold in Tents, or hard in Trenches,  
Rather than in warm Beds with pretty Wenches?  
Sweet Sparks do you continue in good mind,  
Let others follow Drums, stay you behind.  
You profitable Bees yield Wax and Honey,  
To Poet's Matter, and to Player's Money.  
If you, dear Beaus, should have so little Wit,  
For grinning Honour your Delights to quit,  
How should we want you inside Box and Pit.  
Spite of old English Magnanimity,  
Be you from Foreign fighting ever free,  
And let us have your sweet Society.  
Discourse at home of Van and Flank and Rear,  
And rout French Monsieurs o'er a Bottle here,  
But to the filthy Camp pray come not near.   

Dramatis Personae.  
Gunderic, 
Mr. Betterton.  Genselaric, 
Mr. Williams.  Briomer, 
Mr. Hodgson.  Albimer, 
Mr. Zibber.  Rodoric, 
Mr. Freeman.  Almeric, 
Mr. Harris.  Agilmond, 
Mrs. Butler.  Valdaura, 
Mr. Mic. Lee.  Amalazontha, 
Mrs. Betterton.  Rhadegonda, 
Mrs. Lee.  Eurione, 
Mrs. Bracegirdle.  Merinda. 
Mrs. Richardson.    
THE RAPE: OR, THE Innocent Impostors,  

ACT I.  

SCENE I. The Palace Garden.  Enter Briomer and Albimer. Brio. 
HAS the King dined?—  Albi. 
— He has; and the rich Fumes  
Of Corsic Wines, which he too freely swallowed,  
Have made him vain; now he fights o'er his Battles  
Of 20 Years, and numbers all his Conquests;  
Whilst the base Herd of Fawning Courtiers screw  
Their servile Looks to seeming Admiration,  
And cry him up a second Alexander.  Brio. 
Could you endure the fulsome Pageantry;  
Or be the Echo to their loose Applause?  
You could not sure; a generous Disdain  
Shoots from your Eyes, and tells me, every Boast  
Of this Vainglorious King brands us for Slaves:  
For sure the Haughty Vandal could not miss,  
In all his Catalogue of former Triumphs,  
That which made us his Vassals.—  Albi. 
— No, he did not:  
That was his laboured Theme, his darling Topick,  
The Gothish Conquest! that he justly styled  
His Valour's Masterpiece; began the Story  
From the first Breach; not sixteen tedious years  
Had worn away the slightest Circumstance:  
And while he spoke, the Honourable Wounds,  
Which for my slaughtered Master I took nobly,  
Seemed to bleed freshly at it, like a Corpse  
In presence of its Murderer— There I left him,  
And, in the midst of all his vain Harangue,  
Stole from the Presence. But no more: the King  
Is come to walk; let us observe at distance.  Enter Gunderic, Genselaric, Ferrismond, Guards and Attendants. Gund. 
Was it not brave? Speak thou, Genselaric,  
For thou wert near me still, and thy keen Sword  
Well copied out the Deaths which mine had drawn,  
As if thou lik'dst the Great Original;  
Was't not a glorious day?—  Gen. 
— Yes, Royal Sir,  
A day which should in Vandal Annals stand,  
Redeemed from time, in Golden Characters,  
When dreadful Rhadagaise, the Valiant Goth—  Albi. aside 
'Tis the same hateful subject; let's retire.  Ex. Bri. and Alb. Gund. 
Thou speak'st him right; well he deserved that Title,  
Whom haughty Rome with twenty thousand Talents  
Bribed high to quit her wasted Provinces,  
And thought it easy purchase. Him returned,  
With all his Fame about him, I attempted;  
Him in the head of all his Troops encountered,  
Nor shunned he my Assault. Like two large Comets  
That blaze in opposition we appeared;  
Our waiting Armies watched the dreadful shock,  
And in our lifted arms was wrapped the fate  
Of thousand Vulgar Souls.  
Then, my Genselaric, than Ferrismond,  
For you were present too, how did we tug  
For Empire and for life! till covered o'er  
With well-placed Wounds, the Gothish Monarch sunk,  
And my superior Fortune triumphed o'er him.  
By heavens'! I could have hugged my dying Foe,  
Almost have envied him, he fell so nobly!  
And made me sweat so hard for glorious Conquest!  Fer. 
If such his Fame, (and he deserved no less,)  
What then is yours, who bravely ovecrame him?  Gund. 
Right, Ferrismond, and 'tis for that I prize  
This Conquest more than all my other Trophies:  
In all my chase of Fame, I never met  
A braver Foe; for this his Captive Queen  
And all his Female Issue I preserved;  
The Males, to make my Conquest more secure,  
Embraced their Father's Fate.—  Gen. 
— 'Twas fitting Policy.  
But, sacred Sir, your Pardon, if I dare  
To sound the Secrets of your Royal Bosom,  
And humbly beg to learn why you design  
To wed the eldest of those Princely Orphans  
To Agilmond, our lovely Prince, and graft  
A Captive Cien on your Royal Stock?  
Now must I beg to know, what known will blast me.  Aside. Gund. 
I'll tell thee, Nephew,  
For thou art brave, and therefore 'tis I love thee.  
Ten years I reaped the precious sweets of Love  
Without success; for tho' my fruitful Queen  
Was blessed with numerous Births, yet all were Female  
A Sex unfit for Sway; and my large Conquests  
Must have been parceled out to Neighbour Princes,  
As they grew ripe for Wedlock: Thus I murmured,  
Till angry Fate snatched all my blooming Offspring,  
And crushed them in the Blossom—  Gen. 
— I remember,  
'Twas just before the Gothish Expedition:  
And soon the heat of War dried up your Tears.  Gund. 
It did—  
But when I parted from my Queen, I left her  
Just ready to lay down another Burden;  
Then grief and rage forced out this Solemn Vow:  
If still you blast my Hopes, and your full Womb  
Again disclose another Female Birth,  
By my just rage it dies.— This said, we parted.  Gen. 
Something like this was buzzed about the Court,  
Scattered in Whispers by the attending Ladies;  
But soon it died; and I had almost lost  
The loose remembrance, till your words revived it.  Gund. 
Th' Event of things soon buried it: For Fate  
Shook at my dire Resolve, and as o're-awed,  
Cast in a Nobler Mould her pliant Issue,  
And Stamped it with the Image of a Man.  
The welcome News, by winged Couriers born,  
Found me returning from my Gothish Conquest,  
And covered o'er with Laurels.—  Gen. 
— What could Fate  
Do more, than make you great at once and happy?  
Than give at once two such important Blessings,  
A Kingdom and an Heir?  Gund. 
'Twas much indeed: And I with fitting joy  
Received the mighty Presents—  
But oh! Genselaric,  
How little do my present Comforts answer  
The large Idea which my thoughts then formed!  
The Prince, my Valiant Nephew—  Gen. 
— Sacred Sir,  
Give your thoughts vent; and oh! forbid it, Heaven,  
That Sigh should be occasioned by the Prince,  
The lovely Prince.  Gund. 
— The lovely Prince indeed,  
And there thou summ'st his Praise: I wish thou couldst,  
Instead of that faint Epithet, have put  
The Manly or the Valiant: but alas!  
His outward Composition shows him Woman  
In all things but the Sex; and much I fear  
His very Soul's a Woman. Balls and Dances,  
The Conversation of conceited Ladies  
And fluttering Courtiers, are his chief delight:  
He loves not Arms, to break the Warlike Steed,  
Or dart the well-aimed Javelin. Is he fit  
To hold the Reins of stubborn Conquered Nations,  
To keep my Fame up, and convey my Glory  
To Ages yet to come?—  Gen. 
— His tender years  
Are yet unripe for Action; time may change  
And form his thoughts to a more Manly temper.  Gund. 
'Tis true indeed, it may; but that forced Smile  
In which you dress your Face, seems to inform me,  
That you my Armies headed at his Years,  
And brought home Victory. Here lies my Grief,  
The Remedy's behind. The conquered Goths,  
Who brook my Sway uneasily, though ranked  
With my own Vandals both in Trust and Favour,  
Yet wish a Prince whom they may call their own.  Gen. 
I have of late observed a sullen haughtiness  
In most of them; the sign of forced Respect,  
And ebbing Duty.—  Gund. 
— If to me they pay  
But an unwilling Service, what must Agilmond,  
Weak Agilmond expect, unless secured  
By politic desences? Therefore 'tis  
That I design to wed him to Eurione,  
The eldest of the Captive Princesses;  
That so her Title may secure his Interest,  
And the respect they pay her Father's Blood  
Blot out the Hatred which they owe to mine.  Gen. 
But, Royal Sir, forgive me, if I tell you  
The Prince is much averse to this design,  
And all the Tribute of his Heart and Eyes  
Are to the younger paid, the proud Valdaura.  Gund. 
Too well I know it, but I know as well  
To make myself obeyed: Valdaura! no,  
Her Temper's too imperious; in her Face  
I see the fierceness of her Father's looks;  
It is not safe to plant too near my Throne  
One of her haughty nature. But I trifle;  
My Resolution's fixed unalterably,  
Nor dares he thwart my Will,—  
Who have a double Title to his Duty,  
As Father, and as King. Go you, Genselaric,  
Attend the Prince, and bid him wait my Pleasure  
Upon the Terrace Walk.—  Exeunt Gunderick, Ferrismond, Guards and Attendants, Gen. solus. 
Death to my hopes! he's fixed unmovably,  
And all my Wishes blasted: But shall I,  
Who nobly passed through twenty rough Campaigns,  
Tamely look on, and see a puling Boy,  
A young effeminate Stripling, ravish from me  
A Mistress and a Crown! It must not be:  
Let Patient Slavish Fool's drudge on, and bear  
Th' uneasy Yoke of forced Obedience;  
Such tame results as those never attend  
The Lover and the Brave— Ambition single  
Should be too strong a Match for feeble Virtue;  
But when  
Almighty Love does with Ambition close,  
What Force can their united Power oppose?  Exit.  

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.  Enter Rhadegonda, Eurione, and Valdaura. Rhad. 
Although the Honour Gunderick designs  
Our ruined Family by this Alliance,  
Be greater than our humble hopes could aim at:  
Yet still methinks a melancholy Cloud  
Hangs on Eurione, and seems to tell me,  
The Prince's coldness damps her comforts more.  
Than all his Father's kindness can assure them.  Eur. 
Madam, I must confess the Prince's coldness  
Disturbs my troubled Breast; but 'tis because  
I blush to think that one who shares your Blood  
Should live to bear a slight.—  Val. 
— Oh! my loved Sister,  
How well that thought becomes your Royal Birth!  
For the Prince,  
Think not, Eurione, charming as he is,  
That I will e'er receive his loathed Addresses,  
Though lately paid with undissembled fervour:  
His slight of you provokes my hatred more  
Than all his Court to me can raise my love.  Rhad. 
Be careful though, my Daughter, how you treat  
The youthful Prince; and since you must deny him,  
Mix no disdain to make refusal harsher:  
Humility and Meekness best become  
The Conquered and the Captive.—  Val. 
— True, we are so,  
I mean our Bodies, but our Souls are free,—  
Those he could neither Captivate nor Conquer:  
The Vandal Triumph is too great already;  
Let's not increase it, Madam, nor allow  
That it can reach our minds—  Rhad. 
— No, my Valdaura;  
Just Heaven forbid that Rhadagaise's Widow  
Should own a thought so mean! but sit it is  
We should dissemble; since a short Complaisance  
To all the Actions of our future life,  
May give unbounded Freedom.— You, Valdaura,  
Retire a while; and when my faithful Briomer  
And Albimer arrive, conduct 'em hither.  Exit Valdaura. 
Now, my Eurione, disburden now  
Your swelling Breast of its uneasy load,  
And breathe your Griefs into a Mother's Ear:  
Love is no Crime, and sure the Prince has Charms  
Sufficient to excuse a Female fondness;  
Nor did you love unsought; and if your Passion  
Continues still to Flame when his grows cold,  
Unhappy it may make you, but not faulty.  Eur. 
Blessed be those Friendly and Relenting Powers  
That have inspired your Breast with such indulgence!  
'Tis true, I love, still love th' ingrateful Prince;  
False as he is, he's the same Charmer still,  
Lord of my tenderest and most dear Affections:  
And though I dare not to my Rival Sister,  
Whose Spirit awes me, own my lasting Passion,  
It burns as bright as ever.—  Rhad. 
—— Cherish it:  
Valdaura's scorn will quickly send him back  
To find a gentler Treatment in your Love:  
Besides, the King commands him, and his Will,  
Though ne'er so rash, when he is once resolved,  
Cannot be safely thwarted.—  Eur. 
— Still I fear;  
For sure my haughty Sister cannot long  
Resist the lovely Prince.—  Rhad. 
— Fear not, Eurione,  
Take it upon a Queen, and Mother's word,  
Valdaura cannot wrong you. But no more,  
She comes, and with her Briomer and Albimer:  
Withdraw a while, and try to ease your Griefs  
With pleasing hopes of his returning Passion.  Exit Eurione. Enter Valdaura, Briomer, and Albimer. 
Welcome, my Noble Friends; you that continue  
Faithful and just to ruined Majesty,  
I waited for your coming.  
Valdaura, soothe  
Your Sister in her Error; 'tis not safe  
To trust her with the mighty secret yet.  Exit Valdaura. 
Have you, my Lords, dispersed the weighty News  
Amongst my Faithful Goths, that yet a Prince  
Of Rhadagaise's Royal Blood is living,  
And if they dare but struggle for their Freedom,  
Will soon appear to head them?—  Brio. 
— Madam, we have,  
And they with undissembled joy received it,  
But mixed with some Distrust; they seem to doubt  
The mighty Blessing; but assured of that,  
They vow to Sacrifice to his just Interest  
What e'er they hold most dear.—  Albi. 
— Nor are they weak  
In number, or in quality; the King,  
To banish all resentment from their minds,  
And make them fond of Slavery, admits them  
To Offices of Profit, and of Trust;  
The very Troops that Guard him are not free  
From Gothish mixture.—  Brio. 
— These are all our own,  
And once confirmed that they have yet a Prince  
Of your Illustrious Line, will soon shake off  
The Vandal Yoke, which now unwillingly  
They bear, and seat him in his Father's Throne.  Rhad. 
They know me, and my Royal word's to them  
Sufficient Confirmation; but to you  
I will unlock the Secret, how I saved  
And kept concealed a Treasure of such value.  
But here we are too open; let's retire  
Into my private Closet; there we'll share  
A joy too great for me alone to bear.  Exeunt. Briomer drops a Paper. Enter Genselarick and a Lady. Gen. 
The Princess indisposed! and will admit  
No Visitants?—  Lady. 
— My Lord, she's just laid down  
To take some rest, to which of late she's grown  
A Stranger.—  Gen. 
— May her sleep be soft and quiet  
As that of Infants— Whilst my waking thoughts,  Exit Lady. 
Are as disturbed as Dreams of guilty Men.  
Ha! what is this;—  Takes up a Paper folded. 
— Though 'tis not generous  
To pry into the Secrets of another;  
A Lover, near the Chamber of his Mistress  
May plead a just excuse for being curious.  Opens it, and Reads. 
My Lord,  
YOU may safely depend upon my Intelligence; I have it from no worse a hand than our Royal Mistress's; therefore be assured that when your Party is fully formed, a Prince of her own Blood shall appear to head it. Meet me without fail at the appointed place and time, where I will inform you farther.  
How's this? a Faction forming? and a Prince  
Of Gothish Blood to head it? this confirmed  
By her who best should know, the Captive Queen?  
Is then the cruel Policy of Gunderic  
Deceived, and a surviving Male yet left  
To take sharp Vengeance for his slaughtered Kinsmen?  
Kind Fate that brought this Secret to my hands,  
Meant not it should be useless: this well managed  
May either serve my Interest, or my Love,  
Perhaps may forward both: let me consider—  Enter Rodorick and Almerick. Rod. 
This way the General went—  Alm. 
— See there he stands;  
And by the fixed composure of his look,  
Something uncommon fills his working thoughts:  
Let's wait a while.—  Gen. 
— The destinies of Men  
Are not more surely Charactered  
In Fate's eternal Volume, than mine here.  
Suppose I tell the King,  
One of these two fatal Evils must attend it:  
Either his Rage flames high, not to be quenched,  
But by the Blood o● 〈◊〉 that Royal Race,  
And so I give my 〈◊〉 up to Slaughter:  
(Horror and 〈…〉 Shocks my Soul to think it.)  
Or if his Policy 〈…〉 his Anger,  
The Fatal 〈…〉 the Prince and her,  
To settle 〈…〉 and I throw  
The only 〈…〉 I love  
Into my 〈…〉—  
〈…〉 must not, cannot, shall not be.  Rod. 
〈◊〉 seems disturbed, as if his thoughtful Soul  
Were 〈…〉 betwixt two deep Designs,  
And doubtful which to fix on—  Gen. 
Suppose I carry it to the Captive Queen;  
And since the Lives of her and all her Nation  
Are in my Hands, say I disclose my Passion  
For ●●ght Eurione, and make her the Price  
Of my Important Silence; if that fails,  
Add my Assistance too, to join in it;  
By Heaven it wears a forward face of hope,  
Nor can it fail to take— it shall be so.  Alm. 
His looks clear up; the Resolution's taken,  
Be't what it will.— My Lord, we wait your leisure.  Gen. 
O! my best Friends, you come most opportunely:  
I want your kind Assistance in some matters  
Of mighty Moment; and so much I trust  
Your well experienced Faith, I will not doubt  
But you dare follow wheresoever I lead,  
Although the Path I tread be full of danger.  Rod. 
My Lord, you judge us right; all our Employments  
Are but your Gift, when the Ungrateful Court  
Repulsed and cast us off, you took us in,  
Stemmed the rough Torrent, dressed us in fresh Honours,  
And fixed us near yourself:  
And if for you we forfeit all,  
We pay but back your own.  Alm. 
— Our Lives are Trifles,  
Which for a Drunken Friend we oft expose;  
How should we then refuse to lay them down  
For you our Friend and Patron?—  Gen. 
— Read this Paper;  
The hand I guess; but to inform me farther,  
Are you acquainted with it?  Rod. 
— Let me see,  
This Writing is familiar to my eyes;  
And now the weighty matter it contains  
Instructs my Memory: 'Tis Briomer's.  
I oft have seen't when jointly we commanded  
The Vandal and the Gothish Cavalry;  
Most certain 'tis his own.—  Gen. 
— It is not doubted.  
Now take the Darling Secret of my Soul;  
I'll turn my Heart quite outwards to your view,  
Nor shall one thought escape you. O, my Friends,  
I love Eurione; love her beyond Victory  
Ravished from valiant Foes, that made Success  
Hang doubtful long.—  Rod. 
— She's destined for the Prince;  
And if I err not much, her Inclinations  
Bend that way too.—  Gen. 
— They're biased by her Interest;  
He's Heir to mighty Kingdoms, she a Captive.  
But wave we that? You see the dreadful Secret  
Contained within that Scroll; dare you join it?  
I'm sure you dare; dare any thing, but basely  
Desert a Friend that trusts you with his life,  
Nay more, his Love—  Alm. 
— We are your Creatures, Sir,  
And are resolved to move as you direct us.  Rod. 
Besides, this blessed occasion wakes the memory  
Of former wrongs, which call aloud for Vengeance.  Gen. 
Let me enfold you thus; in this Embrace  
I tie my Fortunes to you: in our walk  
We'll settle matters further.—  
As some rich Merchant, when the Billows roar,  
Holds fast one Casket full of precious Store,  
Whilst all his meaner Treasure's tumbled o'er:  
So while Love's safe, securely I survey  
Fame, Profit, Honour, Virtue, cast away.  
Rather than see my Darling Love distressed;  
Let wide Destruction swallow all the rest.  Exeunt.   

ACT II.  

SCENE, a Terrace-Walk.  Enter Gunderick. 
THe Prince's ill-placed love to proud Valdaura,  
With the loud Murmurs of my Gothish Subjects,  
Distract my careful thoughts by Day, and haunt  
My restless Dreams by night. Hard Fate of Kings!  
Whose outward Grandeur only serves to guild  
The Slavery they undergo within!  
And yet these Ills admit one common Cure,  
His Marriage with Eurione, a Remedy  
Which must not be delayed; their Discontents,  
And his loose Passion, if we give them time,  
Will daily grow more strong; it is resolved,  
And Fate, if it had otherwise decreed,  
Should sooner change than I.—  Enter Agilmond. Agile. 
— I was informed  
Your Majesty commanded my Attendance,  
I had not else presumed to interrupt  
Your private thoughts—  Gund. 
— Come nearer, Agilmond,  
Nor think your Presence interrupts my thoughts,  
For they were full of you.—  Agile. 
— I could not wish  
To fill a Nobler Scene; yet humbly hope  
That melancholy Cloud which shades your Brow  
Was not occasioned by the thoughts of me.  Gund. 
And yet it was: For you, my Agilmond,  
My careful Brain toils daily, and my Sleeps  
Are nightly broken; all to make you great,  
And to that Greatness happy—  Agile. 
— Royal Sir,  
If still I hold your Favour, I am both;  
In that my Greatness lies, in that my Happiness.  Gund. 
Prized you my favour at so high a rate,  
You would not dare to contradict my Will;  
A Will whose chief and only aim it is  
To make your Fortune's certain: Put not on  
A Face of seeming Ignorance, my meaning  
Is soon unriddled; why are your Addresses  
So coldly paid to fair Eurione,  
Your destined Bride? My Will has made her such;  
And yours, if mine you valued as you ought,  
Should hand in hand go with it.—  Agile. 
Your Pardon, Sir,  
'Tis worse than Death to me to disobey you;  
And yet 'tis worse than that to marry one  
I cannot love.—  Gund. 
— How! cannot love? take heed,  
It is not safe to dally with my Anger:  
Is she not chaste and Fair? Of Royal Birth  
And Princely Education? flows there not  
A winning Sweetness from her? Is there aught  
That's hard in this Injunction?—  Agile. 
— Only this,  
'Tis hard to force Affection: fair Eurione  
Has Charms to Conquer any Heart, but mine.  Gund. 
'Tis then because that Heart of yours is steeled  
With Disobedience: but no more— Valdaura,  
The proud Valdaura, whom you know I hate,  
She is the Darling Object of your Love:  
And doubly disobedient as you are,  
You shun what I desire, and fondly seek  
What most I loathe.—  Agile. 
— 'Tis my Unhappiness,  
To have my Actions undergo so harsh  
A Misconstruction: but to prove my Innocence,  
And that I am not what your Anger styles me,  
Stubborn and Disobedient; be you pleased  
To cancel the Commands you laid on me  
To wed Eurione whom I cannot love,  
And I will quit all claim to fair Valdaura,  
Nor see, nor speak to her.—  Gun. 
— By Heaven, the Boy  
Begins to Article, and I must treat  
On equal terms, and meet him half the way;  
Whilst his Compliance but keeps pace with mine,  
Moves just as far, no farther. Hear me, you  
That dare thus trifle with your King and Father,  
Hear this my fixed Resolve:  
By all my Glory, by my thirst of Fame,  
And my great Name in War, to Morrow's Sun  
Shall see you Wedded to the fair Eurione,  
Or never more acknowledged as my Son.  Agile. 
O Sacred Sir! call back that dismal Vow;  
Kill me, and I will kiss the hand that does it;  
But oh! condemn me not to loathed Embraces;  
See, on my Knees I beg it.—  Kneeling and Embracing his Knees. Gund. 
— lose your hold,  
Or I will force my way; thou! that art Manly  
In nothing but in Disobedience;  
That too is Womanish, 'tis Wilfulness  
A Female Vice; no more, you know my Will,  
Prepare to meet it—  Breaks from him and Exit. Agilmond lies down. Agile. 
— Rather to meet my Death,  
For that must be the fatal Consequence.  
Thus my sad Sentence runs, [To Morrow's Sun  
Shall see you Wedded to the Fair Eurione:]  
To Morrow's Sun will then disclose a Secret  
Which Sixteen Years have faithfully concealed:  
Unhappy Agilmond! thy latest Glass  
Of Life is running now, and the last Sand  
Will steal away to Morrow.—  Enter Amalazontha. Amal. 
— I met the King  
With Fury in his Looks, regardlessly  
He passed along, and in a surly tone  
Bade me, go teach my Son Obedience.  Sees the Prince. 
See, there he lies! alas! is that a Couch  
Fit for the Heir of Mighty Gunderic?  Goes to him. 
What means my Agilmond? what saucy Grief  
Usurps a Breast so dear to me as thine?  
And yet I fear to ask, for sure it is  
Of Mighty Weight, that bows you to the Earth  
As you were rooted there.—  Agile. 
— Forgive me, Madam,  
That must alarm your Ears with sounds more dismal  
Than Groans of Mandrakes, or the Scritch-Owl's Note;  
The Croaks of Ravens at a Sick-man's Window  
Would be but Music to the News I bear.  Amal. 
Alas! what means this dreadful Preparation?  
Is the great Secret of your Sex disclosed?  
Has Gunderick discovered what you are?  
He has not sure; for as I entered here  
He spoke to me of you, and called you Son.  Agile. 
'Tis true, he has not yet; but oh! to Morrow.  
To Morrow he has vowed that I shall wed  
Eurione, and then the fatal Secret  
Must needs be known; and well you know his Vows,  
However rash, are obstinately kept.  Amal. 
— Too well I know it;  
Nor is this Vow the first. O! cruel Gunderick!  
Was't not enough, rash and inhuman Prince!  
That when this precious Burden filled my Womb,  
You doomed it then to Death? but must I now,  
When Sixteen Years have made it dearer to me,  
And tied it to my Heartstrings, see it Butchered  
By thy unnatural and savage rage?  Agile. 
Be witness, Heaven, how little that afflicts me!  
Your Danger sinks me, under that I bend,  
Unable to sustain it. Permit me, Madam,  
To die for both; to Morrow dooms me;  
Let me but die now;  
And the important Secret dies with me,  
And gives new life to you.—  Amal. 
— No, Agilmond,  
Our Case is dangerous, but not desperate:  
Through all these Clouds I spy one Ray of Hope  
Break brightly forth, and gild the horrid Scene:  
Eurione is Virtuous and Discreet;  
We'll trust th'important Secret to her knowledge;  
And sure she will not scruple to assist  
Two Royal Suppliants. Come, my Agilmond,  
Wait on the King, and seemingly comply,  
Leave the Event of things to me and Heaven;  
The Gods that watched to guard your Infant state,  
Will save you still, and their own Work complete.  Exeunt.  

SCENE A lonely Walk within prospect of the Palace.  Enter Briomer. 
Curse on my Negligence! to lose a Paper  
Of such a vast Concern! my life's wrapped in it;  
My life's a trifle; but the lives of all  
My Countrymen, nay even the Queen's and Prince's  
Are by my fatal carelessness exposed.  
The best that I can hope, is that the Queen  
Herself has found it; yet suppose even that,  
How wretched must I be! How should I look  
On one so much endangered by my Folly!  Enter Gen. Rod. & Alm. 
O that I had it! tho' for every Letter  
I paid a ruddy drop of that rich Blood  
Which warms my Heart, I should not think it dear.  Gen. 
He's here! and by that gloomy look confirms me  
The Writing was his own, and that already  
He has missed the Letter; wait a while without  
And be not seen, I'll sound him at a distance.  Ex. Rod. & Alm. 
My Lord, I have observed, for Friendship's Eye  
Is quick and piercing, in your Face of late  
Unusual Mixtures, seriousness and joy;  
As if your busy Soul were burdened with  
Some weighty matter, happy at once and dangerous.  Brio. 
Your Eyes, my Lord, are ill Intelligencers,  
To represent as things of Weight and Moment,  
The sudden Starts of an uneven temper.  Gen. 
And yet I fear your Tongue has scarcely given  
So just an Information as my Eyes.  
But wave we this discourse: hear you no News?  Brio. 
Not I, my Lord; 'twas always my Opinion,  
That Curious and Inquisitive were names  
Fit for the softer Sex.—  Gen. 
— I'll tell you then.  
'Tis whispered to the King that still a Prince  
Of Gothish Blood is living.—  Brio. 
— Ha! what says he?  Aside. Gen. 
Now you, my Lord, if such a one there be,  
Can sure inform me of't.—  Brio. 
— Dreams, idle Dreams:  
For were there such, I could not but have known it.  Gen. 
Why so 'tis whispered too; and that yourself  
Now form a Faction to assist his Cause  
Amongst the discontented Goths.—  Brio. 
— My Lord,  
I know my Duty to my General:  
Had any other dared to speak these words,  
My Sword e'er now had been unsheathed, to right  
My injured Honour.  Gen. 
This Paper would have forced it back again,  Shows the Letter. 
And nailed it to the Scabbard.  Brio. 
— 'Tis the same,  
And he's alone; blessed opportunity!  
My Lord, you have my Secret; but you must  
Restore me that, or with it take my life.  Draws. Genselaric whistles, Enter Rodoric and Almeric, they rush on him and disarm him. Gen. 
I will be forced to neither— Disarm him. So;  
Give me his Sword: now leave us to ourselves,  Ex. Rod. and Alm. 
And on your lives no word of what has happened.  Brio. 
What shall I judge  
Of these Proceedings? Base at once and Generous?  Gen. 
You seem to be surprised, and your amazement  
Is too well grounded to create my Wonder:  
Yet think not that I summoned these to help me  
Because I feared your Sword; you know I fear not;  
But could not wound the Breast of one I honour,  
Nor suffer you to kill the Friend that loves you.  Brio. 
My Lord, I understand you not, your words  
Are full of Mystery:  
But could you be a Friend to so much Misery,  
'Twere noble to excess.—  Gen. 
— I can, and will be.  
Believe me, Briomer, 'tis a Solemn Truth,  
I hate this Gunderick, this Tyrant, more  
Than happy Men the thoughts of Death with Torture;  
And if there be a Hatred beyond that,  
I hate the Prince yet more.—  Brio. 
— 'Tis wondrous strange!  
So favoured, so beloved!—  Gen. 
— Grant all this true,  
That I am great in Favour, and in Trust;  
If they at the same time tear from my Heart  
The only Person that my Soul is fond of,  
And give her to th' Embraces of another;  
Does not this cancel all?—  Brio. 
— 'Tis true indeed,  
That injured Love admits no Compensation.  Gen. 
This is my case: now tell me, Briomer,  
What may that Man deserve, that being Master  
Of this important Secret, which commands  
The Lives and Fortunes of a mighty Nation,  
Not only locks it safe within his Breast,  
And buries it in silence, but breaks through  
The Solemn Ties of Duty, and of Blood,  
To tempt an equal hazard, nay, to make  
By his assistance the Attempt secure,  
And past the fear of failing.—  Brio. 
— He deserves  
What e'er his forward Wishes can aspire to,  
What e'er a rescued Nation can bestow.  Gen. 
Could this, or more, deserve the fair Eurione,  
I durst perform it for her: now you have  
The mighty Secret: tell me, my Lord,  
May I have leave to hope?—  Brio. 
— Not only hope,  
But Certainty attends you. I dare pawn  
My yet untainted Honour, that the Queen  
Will give a glad consent: your Birth is Princely,  
Your Fame is great, and what you now design  
Is more than Kingly.—  Gen. 
— Take your Sword, My Lord;  
And that I may not leave a doubt upon you,  
Thus I disperse your fears.— Now take me to you,  Tears the Letter. 
And mould me as you please.—  Brio. 
—— Welcome, brave Sir,  
Be this Embrace the Seal of lasting Friendship  
Between us two; I'll lead you to the Queen,  
Who shall confirm all that your hopes can aim at.  Gen. 
O my best Friend, make good this mighty Promise,  
And Heaven itself has nothing more to give me.  Exeunt.  

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.  Enter Eurione, and Merinda. Eur. 
The sense of former Happiness increases  
Our present Misery; and the fresh remembrance  
Of those dear Vows which Agilmond once paid,  
Does but embitter more his late neglect.  
Merinda, sing the Song I so well loved,  
Since Agilmond grew false.—  

SONG.  

HOw long must Women wish in vain  
A constant Love to find?  
No Art can fickle Man retain,  
Or fix a roving Mind.  
Yet fondly we ourselves deceive,  
And empty Hopes pursue;  
Though false to others, we believe  
They will to us prove true.   

But oh! the Torment! to discern  
A Perjured Lover gone;  
And yet by sad experience learn  
That we must still love on!  
How strangely are we fooled by Fate,  
Who tread the Maze of Love!  
When most desirous to retreat,  
We know not how to move.    Enter Amalazontha. Mer. 
Madam, the Queen.—  Amal. 
What, fair Eurione,  
Indulging still those melancholy thoughts  
Which prey upon your inward Peace, and cloud  
The lustre of your Eyes?  Eur. 
My thoughts and looks  
Are such as well become the humble Fortune  
Of our unhappy House.  Amal. 
Fortune's unjust  
To wound such Innocence (yet I must join  
In her Unjustice too) I come, Eurione,  
To put your Virtue to a mighty Trial;  
To trust you with a Secret of such weight  
As must admit no other Ear but yours.  Eur. 
Merinda, wait without— Madam, you honour me,  Ex. Mer. 
To think me worthy of so great a Trust;  
Nor can I e'er be guilty of such baseness,  
As to abuse so generous a Confidence.  Amal. 
'Tis that belief makes me unlock my Heart,  
And give its darling Secret to you; know then,  
To Morrow Gunderick designs to wed you  
To Agilmond; blush not, Eurione,  
The chaste and Virtuous Love you bear the Prince  
Carries no Guilt along with it; and sure  
The Gods themselves inspired you with that Love,  
To save his life and mine—  Eur. 
— Can any danger  
Threaten such precious lives? O! bless me, Madam,  
By making me the happy Instrument  
Of saving them, though at th' expense of mine.  Amal. 
We would not purchase ours at such a rate:  
But, generous Eurione, prepare  
To hear surprising News; summon your Virtue,  
For you will need it all: Suppose I come,  
Like early Frosts, to nip your blooming hopes,  
And blast the Fruit for ever.—  Eur. 
— Hope of late  
Has been a Stranger here. I well perceive  
Your Majesty approves not of that Honour  
The King designs me; and I cannot murmur,  
But mourn my want of Merit.—  Amal. 
— Fair Eurione,  
Mistake me not, I grant you merit all things;  
And were he capable to meet your love,  
How gladly would I forward it!—  Eur. 
Not capable?  
Alas! the killing word! My Rival Sister  
Has Charms, I find, too strong for me to strive with.  Amal. 
Still you mistake me; take it in a word,  
My Agilmond— But see we are prevented.  Enter Gunderic, Rhadegonda, Agilmond, Valdaura, Genselarick, Ferrismond, Rodorick, Almerick, Briomer, Albimer, Guards and Attendants. 
Embrace the offer which the King will make,  
Till I inform you farther.—  Gund. 
Though Right of Conquest, and the chance of War  
Have firmly joined the Gothish Crown to mine;  
Yet still methinks Possession seems uneasy,  
Since you, my Royal Sister, are a Mourner:  
And whilst your Tears attend my yearly Triumphs,  
That Scene of Sorrow dashes all my Joys,  
And palls the Taste of Pleasure.—  Rhad. 
— Tears, my Lord,  
Are a just Tribute I must hourly pay  
For Rhadagaise's loss.—  Gund. 
— Forget it, Madam,  
And suffer yours, like other Griefs, to find  
A cure from time.—  Rhad. 
(— They will, I hope, and soon.)  Aside. 
No time, my Lord, can ever end my Griefs,  To him. 
But that which ends me too—  Gund. 
— Hope better, Madam;  
Or if time fails, let me your kinder Comforter  
Prescribe a cure; a cure which shall at once  
Heal all your Griefs, and dry up all your Tears,  
Or change the sad and melancholy Current  
To cheerful Streams of Joy. Draw near, my Agilmond,  
And trust a Father's care to make your life,  
And all the remainder of your time to come,  
Happy at once, and Great.—  Agile. 
— I stand prepared  
To meet your Royal Will with full Obedience.  Gund. 
Come to my Arms, thou Comfort of my Age.  
Dare you to my Disposal, Madam, trust  To Rhad. 
This Beauteous Princess?—  Rhad. 
— She is yours, my Lord,  
So are we all, your Captives, and your Slaves;  
How should we then deny to be disposed  
By you, our Master, and our Conqueror?  Gund. 
The Names of Captive, and of Conqueror  
This hour shall cancel, and blot out for ever;  
But for the mighty Trust you now repose,  
Thus low I bow to thank you. Noble Nephew;  
And you, my Lords, attend to what I say.  
Though the rough hand of War first tied the Knot  
Which binds together both my Diadems,  
Yet the soft bands of Love shall fasten it.  
Approach, fair Virgin, and receive from me,  
The greatest Present Gunderick can make,  
My Agilmond, and with him both my Kingdoms;  
And if my flattering hopes deceive me not,  
In giving him, I give the greater Gift.  
Why are you silent, lovely Innocence?  
Methinks the vastness of a Gift like this  
Should justly challenge Thanks.—  Rhad. 
— Impute her Silence  
To Maiden Modesty, and her just surprise;  
A Virgin's Tongue moves only in her looks,  
And she in Blushes speaks her glad consent.  Gund. 
My Wishes are complete; nor shall our joys  
Be cramped by dull delay. To Morrow's Sun  
That yearly Celebrates my Gothish Triumph,  
Shall shine with double Light, whilst to his Splendour,  
Their Marriage-Torch shall add a brighter lustre.  
My Lords, prepare to grace the wished Solemnity  
With all becoming Honours. You, Genselaric,  
Draw forth my Troops, and see the Pomp set off  
With all the glorious Pageantry of War.  Exeunt omnes, praeter Genselaric, Rodoric, and Almeric. Agile. drops a Dagger as he goes out, Rod. takes it up. Gen. 
Confusion on them all! How could I stand  
Thus tamely by, and see my panting Heart  
Plucked from my trembling Bosom fresh and bleeding  
By this inhuman King? Am I a Coward?  
Answer me, Friends, am I that wretched thing?  
I must be sure; I could not else look on,  
And see the Tyrant ravish from my Soul  
All it holds dear and precious.—  Rod. 
— 'Tis a patience  
Extremely hard to practice; nor could you  
So well disguise your thoughts, but that I feared,  
The King, when he addressed himself to you,  
Would have discovered something.—  Alm. 
— 'Twas most lucky  
That he retired so soon; for I perceived  
Your Forehead glow, your eager Pulse beat fast,  
And your full Breast swell at the harsh injunction.  Gen. 
By heavens' he mocked me—" You, Genselaric,  
" Draw forth my Troops, and see the Pomp set off.  
Yes, I will set it off; but in a manner  
They little think of; now, by all my wrongs  
It is a Noble thought: draw near, my Friends,  
And swear on this good Sword to undertake  
Whatever I desire; nor shall the danger  
Be yours alone, I'll share in all the hazard,  
And shoot the Gulf as well as you—  Rod. 
I swear  
To execute whatever you command;  
Nor Racks, nor Tortures shall deter me from it,  
Or force the weighty Secret from my Bosom.  Alm. 
I swear the same.—  Gen. 
— O! let me rivet you  
For ever to my Breast, the truest Friends  
That ever Man was blessed with. Listen both,  
And to your Bosoms I'll impart a business  
Would startle any Courage less than yours.  
I must enjoy Eurione, or die;  
This Night, the Eve of all my destined Sorrows,  
Shall make me blessed, and revel in full Joys.  
The Princess every Night, as I'm informed,  
Walks singly forth, and in a lonely Arbour  
Enjoys her private thoughts; the place I know;  
Thither we'll haste, and, shrouded from all eyes,  
Expect her coming, seize the trembling Prey,  
And rifle all the Treasures of her Beauty:  
Then if the Prince feasts on her Sweets to Morrow,  
He shall have but the leavings of my Riot.  Rod. 
Th' attempt is full of hazard; but to make  
Our aftergame more safe, take my Advice,  
As a sure means to free us from discovery.  
Know you this Dagger?—  Gen. 
— Yes, 'tis Agilmond's,  
Remarkable and known to all the Court.  Rod. 
As he went out he dropped it; in the Crowd  
I stooped and took it up, but had no time  
To give it him. Take it, and when your Senses  
Are surfeited with Pleasure, drop this Weapon  
Near to the Ravished Princess: this will be  
Ten thousand Witnesses against the Prince,  
To fix Suspicion of the Deed on him.  Gen. 
'Tis well contrived, nor can it fail to hit:  
His long professed Aversion to this Marriage,  
Though late he faintly gave a forced Assent,  
Will make it pass unquestioned; and the Walks  
That lead unto this Scene of killing Joy,  
At such late hours are barred from all our Sex,  
Except the King and Prince. 'Tis fit we hasten,  
That while the Pass is open we may enter,  
And lie concealed. Methinks I see already  
Her dying Looks, her seeming faint Resistance,  
And feel the mighty Transports of hot Love!  
Let but Success on this blessed Moment wait,  
The rest of Life I freely leave to Fate.  Exeunt.   

ACT III.  

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.  Enter Agilmond and Amalazontha. Agile. 
THe King is gone to Bed, the busy Courtiers  
All scattered and dispersed; but I in vain  
Should seek for rest, till first I know what passed  
In your late Conference with Eurione.  Amal. 
I found her, Agilmond, (for I must yet  
Give you that name) composed throughout of Sweetness;  
And I ne'er wished more earnestly you were  
What you pretend to be, than for her sake,  
Who pants for you with all the modest warmth  
Of Innocence and Love.—  Agile. 
— Alas! I pity her.  Amal. 
When first I told her I must blast her hopes,  
Something that looked like Anger seemed to rise;  
But as a Stranger, soon was banished thence,  
And sunk to humble Sorrow.—  Agile. 
— 'Twas a sight  
Would have affected the most Savage heart,  
To see such mourning Virtue.—  Amal. 
— First, she thought,  
Or seemed to think, that her small Stock of Merit  
Bred my dislike of the intended Marriage;  
But undeceived in that, her jealous thoughts  
Suggested to her straight, that all your love  
Was on Valdaura fixed, her haughty Sister.  Agile. 
And did not that opinion shock her temper?  
For sure she has a Soul above her Sex,  
If yet unmoved by such Assaults as these.  Amal. 
Still the same meekness, still the same composure.  
I told her then that she was yet mistaken;  
And just as I was going to impart  
The mighty Secret of your Sex, the King  
Attended by yourself and all the Court,  
Entered the Room, and hindered the Discovery.  Agile. 
'Twas most unlucky. When I parted from you,  
As you advised me, I found out the King,  
Humbly implored his Pardon, and assured him  
I was in all things ready to obey him:  
He pressed me close, commanded all to follow,  
And led us straight to you, and to Eurione.  Amal. 
Late as it is, 'tis fit you see Eurione;  
Disclose your Secret to her, and instead  
Of those returns of Passion which she looks for,  
And which you cannot pay, offer such Love  
As tender Sisters to each other bear:  
Tell her, the glorious Title of a Queen,  
And all the dazzling Pomp of Royalty  
Are hers, if she complies.—  Agile. 
— Madam, I go.  
This clear calm Night will tempt the Princess forth  
To her loved Solitude; there I'll surprise her,  
And to her private ear disclose my Secret,  
Soft Rest attend your Majesty.  Leads her to the Door, and Exeunt severally.  

SCENE a Night-Piece of a Garden.  Enter Genselaric disguised, coming as out of an Arbour, and peeping about. 
I wonder that the Princess comes not yet;  
'Tis past her usual hour; and should she fail,  
How miserably wretched should I be!  
Fool that I was! like an unthrifty Gamester,  
To venture all my stock of Happiness  
On one uncertain chance! Hist, Rodoric, Enter Rodoric and Almeric disguised.  
And Almeric! discern you nothing yet?  Rod. 
Nothing. You need not whisper so; there's not  
A living Creature within hearing of you  
Besides ourselves.—  Alm. 
— The Court is gone to rest.  
The Windows all are darkened, except one  
That's in the Lodgings of the Gothish Queen;  
And see, a light darts through the Gallery,  
And seems to move this way.——  Gen. 
— It is the Princess;  
She's now undressed, and comes to take her walk.  
By heavens', I see her yonder; quick, retire,  
And when she comes seize the attending Maid,  
And stop her clamorous Throat; leave me alone  
To grapple with the Princess. Oh! ye Gods!  
How my full Veins swell, and my boiling Blood  
Bubbles and foams, as it would break its Channels!  
Sure my hot Flames will thaw her Ice, and melt  
Her frozen Heart; whilst rolling in her Snow,  
I cool the raging burnings of my Fever.  Exeunt as into the Arbour. Enter Eurione and Merinda. Eur. 
Methinks I have no mind to walk to night,  
And yet an unseen Power conducts me on:  
I stumbled at my entrance, and upon  
My heavy Heart hangs a dead Weight of Sorrow.  Mer. 
Pardon me, Madam, if I blame this Sadness,  
When Fortune seems to court you with fresh Honours,  
And all your eager hopes are almost Crowned.  Eur. 
Alas! my dear Merinda, Fortune's smiles  
Are falser than the Tears of wicked Women:  
And though she seems to promise fairly to me,  
Yet my too truly boding Heart assures me  
That I shall ne'er be happy. Fetch my Lute  
To yonder Arbour, there I'll sit a while,  
And try if Music can compose my mind,  
In which I nothing now but Discords find.  Exit Merinda. 
Not all the Royal Favours of the King,  
Nor Agilmond's compliance with his Will,  
Can bring me Comfort equal to those Fears  
Which the Queen's doubtful words inspire me with.  
Yet why should I despair? perhaps the Queen  
But dallied with me; and that Scene of Sorrow  
Was drawn, to make my coming Joys look greater.  
I'll trust my Fate: the Gods can never prove  
Averse to chaste Desires, and Virtuous Love.  Exit as into the Arbour. Enter Agilmond. 
The solitude and silence of this Place,  
Joined with the native Horror of the Night,  
Have filled my trembling Heart with doubts and terrors.  
Alas! how ill such Fears become this habit!  
Ha!  Shrieks within. 
What dismal shriek was that? or was't my Fancy?  
'Tis there again! I dare not venture farther:  Shrieks again. 
Yet more! defend me, Gods! and guard me forth  
From this most dismal place in Peace and Safety.  Exit Agilmond. Enter Merinda with a Lute. 
'Twas sure the Prince I met, he seemed in haste  
And discomposed; this was the cause I find  
Of sending me to fetch her Instrument,  
That she might meet the Prince with greater liberty.  
'Twas well I came no sooner; now he's gone,  
I'll see if yet her mind be out of Tune.  Exit as into the Arbour.  

The Scene draws, and discovers Eurione in an Arbour, gagged and bound to a Tree, her hair dishevelled as newly Ravished, a Dagger lying by her.  Enter Merinda with a Lute Mer. 
Madam, I've brought the Lute— Defend me, Heaven!  
What means this dismal Vision! O, my Princess!  
What barbarous Villain, black as Hell could make him!  
Durst bind those lovely Arms?  Vnbinding her. 
O tell me, Madam,  
What worse than Devil durst attempt yet farther,  
For so the dismal Scene too well informs me?  Eurione falls down, Merinda a chafing her. Enter Valdaura in a Nightgown. Val. 
It could not be a Dream; the mournful Accents  
Of some distressed Creature pierced my Ears,  
Like shrieks of Ravished Virgins: and just now  
Entering, I heard a Female Voice lamenting:  
Who's that? Merinda weeping? Where's my Sister?  Eur. 
Alas! here's she that was Eurione;  
Now she is nothing but a loathsome Leprosy,  
Which spread all o'er the Gothish Royal Blood,  
Infects the Noble Race.—  Val. 
— Alas, my Sister,  Kneeling by her. 
What killing words are these?—  Eur. 
— Stand off, Valdaura,  
And come not near me; I am contagious sure,  
And all chaste hands will blister that but touch me,  
Were all the Gods that secure Innocence,  
Deaf to my Cries, and blind to all my Wrongs?  
That no relenting Power would send one Bolt  
To strike me dead, and save my Ravished Honour?  Val. 
Ha! Ravished said you? Ravished! name the Villain;  
That my fierce Wrath, like an impetuous Torrent,  
May overtake and hurry him to ruin,  
Preventing the slow Vengeance of the Gods,  
Tell me: but know you speak not to Valdaura,  
But to the Prince Ambiomer, your Brother,  
For such I am; and I will write myself  
Such in my fell Revenge. Now, name the Villain;  
He lives too long already, by this Minute  
That he is yet unknown.—  Eur. 
— Alas! I know him not.  
Disguised he came, as if he hid his Face  
From Night itself; seized like a Bird of Prey  
His trembling Quarry; gagged and bound me fast,  
And then— Oh! let me die, and stifle so  Sees the Dagger. 
The harsh remembrance!— Ha! what's this? a Dagger?  
Blessed be the Friendly Powers that sent me this  
To heal my Griefs for ever.  Going to stab herself. Val. 
— Hold, Eurione;  Wresting it from her. 
The Gods designed not this for your Destruction,  
But to discover who the Villain is,  
And mark him for my Vengeance.— Is it possible?  Looking on it. 
By all our Wrongs, it is the Prince's Dagger.  
Is he the Ravisher? Can so much Villainy  
Lurk under such a chaste and modest semblance?  Mer. 
My Lord, I met the Prince; he seemed disordered,  
And haste and fear were in his Gate and Eyes:  
But though I found the Princess newly Ravished,  
I could not think him guilty of the Fact,  
Till this plain Evidence convinced me of it.  Eur. 
Was this a sit return for chaste desires,  
And virtuous Love like mine?—  Val. 
— Oh! the young Ravisher!  
Here on my Knees I swear, upon this Dagger  
(Which though a Villains, yet shall bind my Oath  
As firmly as if Fate itself had Sealed it)  
My thoughts shall never know a Moment's peace,  
Till I have drenched this Weapon in the Blood  
That warms his lustful Heart. Merinda, help,  
Convey my Sister in; and at her Chamber  
We'll lay the Method of our just Revenge.  Exeunt.  

SCENE a Night-Piece of a Wood  Enter Genselaric and Almeric. Gen. 
Still I'm in pain for Rodoric, and dread  
The fatal Consequences of his stay.  Alm. 
The Ladder's breaking, caused by too much haste,  
Was (I confess) unlucky; but suppose  
The worst, that he is taken; all the Tortures  
Invented by ingenious Cruelty,  
Will never from his steadfast Faith extort  
The smallest word to prejudice his Friend.  Gen. 
I neither doubt his Friendship, nor his Courage,  
But oh! my Almeric, what mighty Transports  
Am I indebted for to him and you!  
Methought, in one short moment I possessed  
The crowded joys of a long life's delight;  
As if some friendly Power by Chimic Art,  
Had drawn the Spirit of an Age's pleasure,  
Contracting all into that happy Minute  
To make the Cordial rich.—  Alm. 
— My Lord, your joys  
Have made you wanton, but methinks 'tis strange  
That Pleasure forced should give such vast delight.  Gen. 
I hate a tedious Siege, but love to Storm;  
'Tis Soldierlike:  Whistling within. 
But hark! I hear one whistle, answer him;  
It must be Rodoric— And see he's here.  Enter Rodoric. 
Welcome, my Friend, your fortunate escape  
Quiets my mind, and makes my Joys sit easy.  Rod. 
My Lord, your better Genius, I believe,  
Contrived my stay; for by it I have made  
discoveries of great weight.—  Gen. 
— You are yourself  
My better Genius, and direct my Fortunes  
With as successful care, and with a Power  
As absolute as his. But say, my Rodoric,  
What's the important Novelty?—  Rod. 
— My Lord,  
When disappointed by the Ladder's breaking  
Of coming off, I silently returned  
To my old private Covert, near the Scene  
Of your late Joys, resolving there to wait,  
Till Fortune should present me with a way  
To leave it unobserved: Scarce was I settled,  
When first I found Merinda was returned,  
And mourning o'er her Mistress: then, Valdaura  
Alarmed by her Sister's shrieks, arrived  
With hasty steps—  Gen. 
— 'Tis true, she struggled so,  
I could not get the Gag into her Mouth  
So soon as I designed it.—  Rod. 
— But, my Lord,  
That which surprised me most, as 'twill do you,  
Was, that the haughty Princess in her Transport  
Of furious Rage to find her Sister Ravished,  
Owned that she was the Prince Ambiomer,  
And Son, not Daughter, to the Gothish Queen;  
Her Sex (no doubt, for politic designs)  
Thus long concealed.—  Gen. 
— 'Tis most amazing News:  
And yet ('tis true) I often have observed,  
And wondered at the Manly Air and Mein,  
The haughty Carriage and resolved Assurance,  
Of the supposed Valdaura. This is he  
Whom Briomer and all the Gothish Faction  
Designed their head: This Secret must be managed  
With caution and discretion. But say, Rodoric,  
What of the Prince's Dagger? was that found,  
Or lay it there neglected?—  Rod. 
— All your Stars  
Have been at work for you to Night. The Princess  
Found it by chance, and with a sudden fury  
Had plunged it in her Breast, but that her Brother  
Seized and prevented her. Soon as he viewed it,  
He knew its owner; and whilst that was breeding  
Suspicion of his Guilt; Merinda told them,  
She met the Prince but just before, returning  
With fear and great disorder from the Garden.  Gen. 
'Twas wondrous lucky. But what brought him thither  
At that late hour?—  Rod. 
— His ill, and your good Fate.  Alm. 
This sure with t'other Circumstance confirmed them  
He did the Fact.—  Rod. 
— It put it past all doubt.  
The Prince raved high, and made them all retire  
With dreadful Imprecations of Revenge  
Upon the lustful Agilmond, for such  
His Error styled him: Soon as they were gone,  
Finding all still and hushed, I ventured forth,  
Mended my broken Ladder, and escaped  
Unseen by any.—  Gen. 
— Asl this Night's Adventure  
Has met with such Success, that it could scarce  
Have happened better, had the Prince contrived  
To be his own Betrayer. But the day  
Begins to break; 'tis fit we all disperse,  
And gain our several Lodgings. Worthy Friends,  
Command whate'er is mine; 'tis all too little  
For the vast Service of this happy Night.  Exeunt severally.  

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.  Eurione is discovered lying on a Couch, her hair dishevelled (as before) Merinda weeping by her. 

SONG to a Lute and Flu●t.  

I.  
BEneath a gloomy Cypress Grove,  
Within a dismal unfrequented Cave,  
Sad, as the Mansions of despairing Love,  
And dark and silent as the Grave,  
The Ravished Philomela weeping lies,  
Chief Mourner at her Honour's Obsequies.   

II.  
A living Hearse she's stretched along,  
Grief does her active Faculties benumb;  
Had not the Lustful Slave torn out her Tongue,  
Her mighty Wrongs had struck her dumb:  
Yet thus her silent Wishes mount the Sky,  
" Give me Revenge, ye Powers, or let me die.    
Music to me! alas! 'tis lost upon me  
As soon it might divert a dying Wretch  
That's stretched upon the Engine of his Torture.  Enter to her Rhadegonda, Valdaura, Briomer, Albimer, and other Goths. Rhad. 
Behold, my Lords, the Ruins of your Princess!  
See there the destined Bride of Agilmond,  
Rifled of all her Sweets by his hot Lust  
That should this day have wedded her. The stain,  
Though chiefly ours, will yet reflect on you,  
And brand the Gothish Nation with disgrace,  
Unless you vindicate her suffering Honour,  
By taking sharp Revenge. If ye are Slaves,  
And would be so, bow down your servile Necks,  
To cruel Gunderic and his lustful Son,  
And bring your Virgin Daughters to be Ravished  
By his voluptuous Race, as mine has been.  
But if you bravely wish, as sure you do,  
To break your Chains, and right your injured Queen,  
Behold this Prince, his slaughtered Father's Image,  
No longer now Valdaura, but Ambiomer,  
Constrained these Sixteen Years to shroud his Sex,  
And in a Female habit shun the Rage  
Of cruel Gunderic that doomed to Death  
The Royal Gothish Males. He stands prepared  
To lead you on to Honour and Renown,  
To Liberty, and what's yet more, Revenge.  Brio. 
Cursed be that Coward, that denies to follow  
Where such a Prince does lead: and doubly cursed  
Be he that shall refuse to take Revenge  
For so much injured Virtue! Royal Master,  Kneeling. 
Permit your faithful Subject thus to tender  
His vowed Allegiance; and may young Ambiomer  
In all resemble his renowned Father,  
But his untimely Fate.—  Alb. & Goths. 
— We jointly wish,  
And vow the same.—  Val. 
— My Lords, I thank you all;  
And shall endeavour by my future Actions  
To fix your Love and Service, but must blush  
To see the tenders of your Duty paid  
To this effeminate outside. Now 'tis fit  
We should consult about the means and method  
Of a secure Revenge. That Agilmond  
Committed this foul Fact, the Prooss are pregnant;  
His Dagger dropped, Merinda meeting him  
In haste and discomposure.—  Brio. 
— 'Tis most strange,  
That he who was designed this day to wed her,  
Should be the guilty Ravisher.—  Val. 
— Perhaps  
He looked upon her as his Father's Slave,  
And scorned to wed so low; but he might safer  
Have hugged a poisonous Serpent in his Bosom,  
Than such a thought as that. Perhaps he meant  
By this last desperate Remedy to avoid  
A Match he always shunned. 'Tis out of question  
He did the Fact; and our short time calls on us,  
Not to dispute, but act: first let us seize him,  
And when that's done, if he has aught to urge,  
He shall have quiet hearing.—  Rhad. 
— Sure his Guilt  
Will keep him on his Cuard, and make his Seizure  
Almost impossible.—  Brio. 
— Leave that to me:  
The General, his Cousin's firmly ours;  
And he by some Device shall train him out.  
Besides to cloak his Guilt, he will not fail  
To make his Visits early. This strong Citadel,  
Where, Madam, you have kept your Royal Court,  
Is under my Command, and firmly Guarded  
By chosen faithful Goths. Here Albimer  
Shall, whilst you shift your Habit, and appear  
Like what the Gods designed you, guard your Majesty.  
Let me find out Genselaric: I'll pawn  
My Life, nay more, my Honour, that I'll bring  
The Prince within two hours to your disposal.  Val. 
We'll trust your management, but be sure you fail not;  
For if you do, though next my Royal Mother  
I hold you dear, by heavens' I'll take the Forfeiture.  Exeunt one way, Briomer the other way.  

SCENE The Palace-Garden.  Enter Agilmond. 
My last Night's Fears unhappily prevented  
My meeting with Eurione;  
'Tis fit she know the mighty Secret soon;  
For since the great Affair with which I labour,  
Has in suspense hung doubtful, Sleep has been  
A Stranger to my Eyes, and from my Breast  
All quiet has been banished.—  Enter Briomer. Brio. 
— Sure the General  
Has some important business, that detains him  
Abroad so long! he has all night been absent,  
Nor know I where to seek him.— Ha! the Prince!  
Can so much Villainy be shrouded under  
So sweet an outside? sure it cannot be;  
He is abused; but that he may be cleared,  
He must endure a Trial first.— My Lord,  
I come, led by my Duty and Respect,  
To wait your Highness to the Queen and Princess.  Agile. 
I was just going to the Citadel,  
Designing to surprise them. Lead me to them.  Brio. 
By all my Honours, he is innocent:  
He could not else with such an even Brow  
Treat of a Subject, which, had he been guilty,  Aside. 
Had stung his Conscious Heart.—  Agile. 
— Conduct me, Briomer;  
I long to see the Princess. Grant, good Heaven,  
That fair Eurione with pitying ears  
May hear my fatal Story; and may all  
Those Powers that of the Innocent take care,  
Dispose her to be good, as she is fair.  Exeunt.   

ACT IU.  

SCENE, the Citadel.  Enter Ambiomer in his own Habit, Albimer, Gothish Lords, etc. Amb. 
COuld my sad Soul be sensible of Comfort  
Whilst wronged Eurione is unrevenged;  
This day, the whitest day of all my life,  
Had brought me wondrous joy; in which I first  
Appear to be what Nature made me, Man,  
And what my Birth designed me for, your King.  Albi. 
To make that joy sincere and undisturbed  
(In which, as in your Griefs, permit your Subjects  
To bear a share) let generous anger chase  
All melancholy thoughts, and fix your eyes  
On the near prospect of a brave Revenge.  Amb. 
My Lord, you counsel well; let Women grieve,  
Unable to take Vengeance; but for us,  
We'll make us Cordials of our great Revenge,  
To cheer our sinking Spirits. Briomer  
Is wondrous slow; the time is almost lapsed,  
And he not yet returned.—  Albi. 
— My Royal Lord,  
Doubt not his Zeal; the great design he manages  
Will, if th' attempt succeed, make large amends  
For such a small delay.—  Amb. 
— I am to blame  
To censure him of slowness: 'tis not that,  
'Tis the fierce motion of my eager wishes,  
That leaves the swiftest diligence behind,  
Unable to keep pace.—  Enter a Goth. Goth. 
— My Lord, the Prince  
And Briomer are entered.——  Amb. 
— For thy News  
Take this: Draw up the Bridge, and on your lives  
Let no Man have admittance. O, ye Gods,  
I see that ye are just; and I your Substitute,  
Will execute your Justice to the full  
On this young Ravisher.—  He sits, the rest stand bare about him. Agile. 
— Whither, my Lord,  Enter Agile. and Brio. 
Have you conducted me? I came to seek  
The Queen and Princess, and you have led me  
To faces that I know not.—  Amb. 
— Seize the Villain,  They seize and disarm him. 
The lustful Ravisher.—  Agile. 
— Ha! what means this language?  
And what this usage? Lustful Ravisher!  
And Villain! do these execrable Names  
Belong to me? How am I changed o'th' sudden,  
And grown a Monster?—  Amb. 
— Yes, a fouler Monster  
Than ever afric bred.—  Agile. 
— And what are you,  
That dare so near my Royal Father's Palace  
Thus use the Heir of mighty Gunderic?—  Amb. 
— I am  
The Vandal Scourge, reserved by Fate punish  
Your bloody Father, and his lustful Issue:  
You knew Valdaura once, now know Ambiomer,  
For both are one; the sole surviving Son  
Of Rhadagaise King of the Goths, and Brother  
To wronged Eurione, or what's my Noblest Title,  
Avenger of her Wrongs.—  Agile. 
— This strange discovery  
May well create my wonder, not my fear:  
I cannot think, you will be so unjust,  
To execute Revenge for Wrongs received  
Upon my Innocence.—  Amb. 
— A Ravisher!  
And yet plead Innocence!—  Agile. 
— Again that Name?  
Instruct me by what dire mistake you brand me  
With such a hated Title.—  Amb. 
— See the Hypocrite:  
With what a seeming Ignorance he sounds  
My knowledge of his Guilt! Away with him,  
I cannot bear his Presence. Albimer,  
Be sure you guard him well: convey him straight  
To the sad Queen, and to the Ravished Princess;  
Perhaps the sight of such a dreadful Ruin  
As his hot Lust has made, may wake his Conscience,  
And draw a free Confession.—  Agile. 
— Ha! what said he?  
The Princess Ravished! Could the Gods look on,  
And unconcerned see so much Goodness suffer?  
Nay, than I wonder not that they can see  
My feebler Virtue wronged.—  He is led off by Albimer guarded. Amb. 
— But that the Proofs  
Which make his Guilt apparent, are too strong  
To leave a place for doubt, I should myself  
Be shocked to see his carriage: But he knows  
His life's at stake, and therefore 'tis not strange  
He acts his part so well.—  Brio. 
— My Royal Master,  
Thus low I beg you would compose your thoughts,  
And hear your Servant speak.—  Amb. 
— Speak on, my Lord,  
My mind is calm, and I prepared to hear you.  Brio. 
Let me not meet your Anger, when I tell you,  
I judge the Prince is innocent: Restrain  
Your Passion, Royal Sir, and hear my Reasons.  
The course of all his former life, renowned  
For Modesty and Virtue; his late coming  
Unforced, unsent for; his surprise and wonder  
To hear that she was Ravished; all these joined,  
Persuade me to conclude that he's not guilty  
Of this most horrid Fact.—  Amb. 
— I must confess  
They carry wondrous weight: but sure those Proofs  
Which fix the Guilt upon him, have no less.  
But yet, my Lord, such is my Zeal for Justice,  
I'll weigh things nicely, e'er I pass a Sentence  
That cannot be recalled; for as I wish  
To take just Vengeance for my Sister's Wrongs;  
So Heaven forbid that Innocence should suffer  
By my mistaken Rage.—  Brio. 
— Now Blessings on you,  
Such was your Father's temper. Give me leave  
Humbly to offer something of Advice,  
To try the Prince's Guilt; propose to him  
This fatal choice, to marry her or die:  
If he be guilty, since he knows his life  
Is in your free disposal, he will yield  
To ransom that by wedding her; if not,  
His Royal Blood will prompt him to endure  
Ten thousand Deaths, rather than marry one  
That's Ravished by another: make this Trial,  
And as you find him Innocent or Guilty,  
Absolve, or else Condemn him: for myself,  
My jealous doubts bend all another way,  
But they are yet too young; when they grow riper,  
I beg that to your Royal Ear I may  
Impart my knowledge of them.—  Agile. 
— With full freedom.  
'Tis fit, in the mean time, we all prepare  
To meet the rage of cruel Gunderic.  
My Lord, how is this Citadel provided.  Brio. 
So well, that it will mock the vain attempts  
Of all the Tyrant's Forces, till our Levies  
Are gathered to an head, and strong enough  
For us to take the Field. For underhand  
We have been working long, and Warlike Vinderic  
Will not be slow to join us.  Amb. 
— I dare rely  
On your known Faith, and long Experience.  
Now, Gunderic, sit fast, or I will join  
Thy Crown to that which thou Usurpest of mine.  Exeunt.  

SCENE the Antichamber.  A Consort of Martial Music is heard for some time. Then Enter Gunderic, Amalazontha, Genselaric, Ferrismond, Rodoric, Almeric, Guards and Attendants. Gund. 
This day the Goths to my Victorious Sword  
Gave up their long kept Freedom; and this day  
Shall give them back the Liberty they lost;  
Whilst all distinctions shall be blotted out  
Of Victor and of Vanquished; Agilmond  
Our pledge of Love, and theirs, Eurione,  
Shall bind the Faith of Nations, and unite  
Millions of Souls in Bonds of Love and Friendship.  
Methinks I see their Valiant Offspring Reign  
O'er half the Conquered Universe! whilst from  
Their Mother's Line they Courage draw, from his  
Both Courage and Success.—  Gen. 
— He little thinks  
How vain and barren all these hopes must prove.  Aside. Gund. 
Where is the Prince, the Gothish Queen and Princesses?  
Methinks e'er now their Presence should have graced  
The destined Triumph of this happy Day.  Amal. 
The Prince long since, as eager Bridegrooms use,  
Went with Lord Briomer to the Citadel,  
To attend his lovely Bride.  Gund. 
'Tis well: whilst we expect them, let us try  
To make the lazy Minutes pass more pleasantly  A Dance to Oboe, Kittle-Drums, and Trumpets. After the Entertainment, enter a Vandal. Vand. 
Forgive me, Royal Sir, if I declare  
Such News as will astonish and enrage you  
Beyond what you have ever heard.—  Gund. 
— What means  
This most amazing Preface to your Story?  Vand. 
Dread Sir, I should not dare to utter it,  
But that it can no longer be concealed.  Gund. 
Think'st thou my Virtue is so much declined,  
I cannot stand the Shock of any Tidings  
Which thou hast heart to bear?—  Vand. 
— My Royal Master,  
Prince Agilmond—  Gund. 
— What is he dead?—  Vand. 
— Not so,  
But you will be as much surprised with wonder,  
To hear that he is Seized, Confined, and Guarded  
Within the Citadel.—  Gund. 
— The Prince Confined,  
And Seized! Remove the Madman from me.  Vand. 
Would I were mad, or any thing, or nothing,  
So this were not a truth.—  Gund. 
— One wish thou hast,  
For mad thou art— A Guard upon the Prince!  
Within the Citadel! I'th' heart of all my Strength!  Vand. 
When you shall know by whom he is imprisoned—  Gund. 
Imprisoned! in the middle of my Guards!  
By whom? There is no Mortal dares attempt  
What thou relat'st. But speak what thou art full of;  
I am content a while to hear thee rave.  
By whom?—  Vand. 
— By young Ambiomer.—  Gund. 
— Madder still!  
What Phantom is this young Ambiomer!  Vand. 
He is the Gothish Prince.—  Gund. 
— Furies and Hell!  
How dar'st thou trifle thus with me?—  Amal. 
— What Prince?  Vand. 
Th' Heir Male to the late Gothish King.—  Gund. 
— Traitor,  
I'll nail thee to the Earth—  Amal. 
— Hold, Royal Sir.  Vand. 
I wish my Death might cause that Peace within  
Your Royal Breast, which I must banish thence.  Gund. 
A Gothish Prince! whence dropped he? from the Clouds?  
Or is the Mushroom sprung up in a night?  Vand. 
The late supposed Valdaura is declared  
Ambiomer, th' Heir Male to Rhadagaise.  Gund. 
What wondrous transformation dost thou talk of?  
Valdaura turned into Ambiomer!  Amal. 
A most surprising Secret! as important  
As that I've kept so long.—  Aside, Gund. 
— But that I know  
Thou ever hast been held discreet and honest,  
Thy Life had been a forfeit to my Rage.  Vand. 
And let it still be so if what I say  
Prove in one tittle false.—  The King muses. Gen. 
— Now Briomer's  To Rod. and Alm. 
Great Secret is disclosed, the next is mine;  
But though he finds the Gothish Prince, he ne'er  
Shall find the Ravisher.—  Rod. 
— He sooner shall  
Reach up to Heaven.—  Alm. 
— Or fathom Hell.—  Gund. 
— Indeed,  
Valdaura still appeared too rough and haughty  
For that soft Sex; her Spirit seemed to threaten  
Something above a Woman's heart.—  Amal. 
— 'Tis true.  
How often has my watchful Genius  Aside. 
Prompted my Soul, to what my foolish Mercy  
Rejected then as cruel: Had I followed  
That faithful Counsellor, she long ago  
Had perished as Valdaura, and not lived  
To act Ambiomer.—  
— Well suppose this were  To them. 
The Gothish Heir; why should they choose this time  
To broach the mighty Secret? By this Match  
Their Party every day and hour had gained  
New Strength and Vigour; and their doubtful Game  
Might have been played with greater hopes of winning.  Vand. 
The cause of such a quick discovery  
Is yet behind, and 'tis a dismal part  
Of my too dreadful Story. Fair Eurione,  
Destined this day for Agilmond, last night  
Was in her private walk surprised, and rifled  
Of all her Virgin Treasure.—  Gund. 
— Ha! what Ravished!  Vand. 
It is too true.—  Gund. 
— Oh horrid Villainy!  
What Hellish Furies have been busy here  
To fill Mankind with Rage beyond their own?  Amal. 
Ah, sweet Eurione! my Heart weeps Tears  
Of Blood for thee.—  Gund. 
Just Gods, could ye behold  
So vile a Crime, and keep your Thunder in?  
But your Vicegerent shall perform the part  
You have reserved for him. By you I swear,  
Let me but know the Fiend, and he shall live  
Whole years in Torment, roaring out for Death.  
But what's all this to Agilmond's Confinement?  Vand. 
There are so many pregnant Circumstances,  
To fix the Guilt of this upon the Prince,  
As caused his Seizure; and the sudden Publishing  
Of what their Prudence longer had concealed,  
But for this sad Conjuncture.—  Amal. 
— How! the Prince!  
Believe him not; 'tis all Imposture, Sir.  
My Son! my Agilmond! It is impossible:  
She was to be his Bride.—  Gund. 
— 'Tis true, she was;  
Nor could he have so furious a Passion,  
Where he had shown so much aversion still,  
That I with greatest difficulty wrought him  
To a consent of Marriage.—  Amal. 
— You have reason.  Vand. 
The Gods can witness what I say is true.  Gund. 
Perhaps he scorned to make a Captive Princess  
The Partner of his Bed; yet he's not proud.  
Perhaps his hatred to her made him find  
This only way to break the Marriage off.  Amal. 
Can you suspect such wicked Subtlety  
Should dwell with so much Youth and Innocence.  Gund. 
My thoughts are in a mist, I am confounded;  
'Tis time must clear up all. But for the new  
Ambiomer, and his Confederate Rebels,  
My swiftest Vengeance shall overtake their fault.  
Shall Gunderic endure to be outbraved  
By a smooth Boy that scarce knows how to act  
The Manly part his fear so long concealed?  
Then let my numerous Conquests be forgotten,  
And my vast Fame shrink to the basest Titles  
Of Slave and Coward. Let us face the Traitors;  
We'll not allow them time to hatch new Treasons,  
But crush them in the Shell Genselaric,  
Get my old Troops together: Ferrismond,  
Draw out the Guards: you Rodoric and Almeric,  
Go raise the City-Bands, and lead them hither.  
By Heaven! I'll see if this Ambiomer  
Have aught that's worthy of his Valiant Father.  
Make haste, my Lords, we'll gain the Citadel  
ere night, or bury it and them in Ruins.  Exeunt.  

SCENE the Citadel.  Enter Ambiomer, Rhadegonda, Briomer, Albimer, Gothish Lords, etc. Amb. 
Though all our present hopes seem small and cramped  
Within these narrow Walls, yet know, my Lords,  
The mightiest Empires had the same beginning:  
Imperial Rome herself in one poor Hamlet  
Took her first rise, and from that single spot  
O'er-ran the Conquered World.—  Brio. 
— If Hearts as good,  
And a much better Cause than theirs, can promise  
Equal Success; we need not doubt but Fate  
Will give to our just Arms as ample Progress.  Rhad. 
The Valiant Vinderic, who for thirty years  
Successfully did fight your Father's Battles,  
Though silvered o'er with Age. yet tempts again  
War's doubtful hazard: and to assist your Cause,  
Before to Morrow's Sun has touched the West,  
Will at the head of thirty thousand Goths  
Come to receive your Orders.—  Amb. 
— His Arrival  
Will make us strong enough to quit this Fortress  
And take the Field. Gods! how I long to meet  
The haughty Vandal! and with equal Arms  
Retrieve th' immortal Honour of our Name,  
Lost by my slaughtered Father! Albimer,  
How fares the Captive Prince! does the young Lion  
Struggle, and bite his Chain?—  Alb. 
— My Lord, he bears it  
With as much calmness, as the Soul endures  
The Prison of the Body: he expresses  
Some Sorrow, but no Anger.—  Amb. 
— When you carried him  
To see the Ravished Princess, could he brook  
The sight of her unmoved?—  Rhad. 
— Let me resolve you,  
For I was present then. Soon as he entered  
And viewed her in her solemn Pomp of Grief,  
He melted into tears; but when he heard us  
Reproach him as the Author of her Ruin,  
Unable to reply, he deeply sighed,  
And fainted in the Arms of Albimer:  
When, by his care revived, he round him cast  
A wild, disordered look, then fixed his eyes  
Upon Eurione, and softly told her,  
He never had the Will, and had he that,  
He wanted Power to wrong her; there he stopped,  
And struggled with himself, as if he laboured  
With something sit for us to know, and yet  
Unfit for him to tell.—  Amb. 
— His inward guilt  
Then stuck him to the quick, and prompted him  
To make a free Discovery; but the danger  
Which threatened that proceeding, stifled it,  
And kept him silent still.—  Rhad. 
— If he be guilty,  
(As I can neither yet condemn nor quit him)  
Never did any Guilt wear such a Mask  
Of well-dissembled Innocence.—  Enter a Goth. Goth. 
— My Lord,  
The Captain of the Guards, sent by the King,  
Desires admittance.—  Amb. 
— Let him have it. Briomer,  
Conduct him in: Now, Madam, we shall hear  
How Gunderic resents our bold Attempt:  
I know it grates his haughty Soul, to find  
A Rival Prince, that dares affront and brave him  
Just at his Palace Gates.—  Enter Ferrismond and Briomer. Fer. 
— My Royal Master,  
Not knowing yet which 'tis more fit to call  
The new-found Prince, Valdaura or Ambiomer,  
Commands me, Madam, to demand of you,  To Rhad. 
Why on this solemn day, designed to make  
You and your Nation happy, you attempt  
To frustrate and abuse his good intentions;  
To seize the Sacred Person of his Son;  
Shut up his Royal Citadel; disturb  
The common Peace; and with rebellious Arms  
Provoke the Indignation of a Prince,  
Who sixteen years has nourished you and yours  
With tenderness and love?—  Amb. 
— Yes as a Guardian,  
That flaunts and revels with his Ward's Estate,  
But keeps him bare and scanty. Royal Madam,  
Permit me, if you please, to give an Answer  
To this so lofty Message. Tell your Master,  
My slaughtered Father, and my ravished Sister,  
Call both for just Revenge; the one on him,  
The other on his Son: My Royal Birth,  
And Rhadagaise's Great Example, prompt me  
Rather to die a King, than live a Slave:  
This Fatal Day, which blushes to set off  
The yearly Pride of Gunderic, calls on me  
To rescue it from such a shameful Office,  
And make it shine again in Gothish Annals,  
Stamped with the glorious Mark of Regained Liberty.  Fer. 
For fair Eurione's lamented Fate,  
My King vies Sorrow with you; and engages  
His Royal Word, to punish that Offence,  
wherever proved, tho' on the Prince himself;  
With utmost rigour; this his love to Justice,  
And pity of her injured Innocence,  
Oblige him to perform.— For you, my Lord,  
And those whom your Example or Persuasions  
Have in your Guilt involved, thus he ordains,  
Give up the Citadel, and jointly try  
With humble Duty to appease his Anger,  
And he'll impute this rash and heedless Action  
To Heat of Youth, and to the sudden Passion  
Caused by your Sister's Wrongs. If you refuse,  
He comes prepared to force you to Obedience,  
And crush you with his Vengeance.—  Amb. 
— Sure he thinks  
I am Valdaura still; and that my Soul  
Is of the Female Stamp; he would not else  
Propose such servile Terms, as feeble Women  
Would almost blush to stoop to. Let him not  
Despise me, that some years my Manly Limbs  
Were clad in Female Weeds; so was Achilles,  
And from less glorious Motives. Tell your Master,  
Ambiomer will ne'er submit the Cause  
Of his wronged Sister to such partial Justice,  
But will himself Examine and Revenge it:  
Say, I was born a King, and scorn to die  
With any meaner Title: For his Threats  
I heed them as I ought; when e'er he dares  
Attempt our Strength, we dare oppose his Fury,  
And with Superior Force and Valour break  
His weak Efforts. Return this Answer to him.  Fer. 
Since you refuse to taste his Royal Clemency,  
Prepare to meet his Vengeance.—  Ex. Ferrism. and Briom. Amb. 
— Wait him forth.  
My Lords, we must expect to be assailed,  
And speedily; the Rage of Gunderic  
Will, like a sudden Whirlwind, drive him hither:  
Prepare to give the rugged Visitant  
Such Entertainment as his Visit merits.  Exeunt.  

SCENE a Chamber in the Citadel.  Enter Agilmond. Agile. 
Death, which at distance seems so terrible,  
Viewed nearer looks less dreadful; and to me  
Has in it more to be desired than feared:  
But to be Executed as a Ravisher,  
Is something worse than death, 'tis death of Fame:  
Yet even that Fate carries this Comfort with it,  
The fatal Secret of my Sex dies with me,  
And leaves the Queen in safety. Tho' I cannot  
Be so unjust to my own Innocence,  
To own so black a Guilt; yet since my death  
Secures my Royal Mother, I'll suppress  
The certain Means to clear me, and submit  
To what the Gods and Fate have ordered for me.  Enter Ambiomer. Amb. 
See! there he stands, calm and composed; nor does  
One line in all that lovely Face, denote him  
Lustful or Ravisher: Whene're I see him,  
Something within me strongly pleads, and tells me  
He must be innocent. If he be guilty,  
The Gods themselves are faulty too, in giving him  
So foul a Heart, and such a Face to hide it.  
I must not let him know how much my thoughts  
Are changed in favour of him. Solitude  To him. 
And close Retirement often hold the Glass  
To guilty Minds, and make them see their Faults  
In their true ugly Colours; have they had  
The same effect on you?—  Agile. 
— A guilty Solitude  
May have Effects like these; but Innocence  
Is always best, when suffered to enjoy  
The prospect of itself.—  Amb. 
— Then you still stand  
Upon your first Defence?—  Agile. 
— I cannot alter:  
Falsehood is almost infinite, but Truth  
Is still the same.—  Amb. 
— So very willingly  
I would believe him, that I scarce can urge  Aside. 
A Reason to disprove him. What occasion  To him. 
Led you so late into the Palace Walks,  
And brought you back so hastily?—  Agile. 
— Desire  
To meet the lovely Princess led me thither;  
And, though I blush to own it, 'twas my Fear  
That brought me back so soon.—  Amb. 
— Your Fear! of what?  Agile. 
I thought, as I advanced, I heard some shrieks,  
Which robbed the Night of all its former stillness,  
And gave it greater horror: Much amazed,  
I durst not venture on, but soon returned  
Without one Moment's stay.—  Amb. 
— This free account  Aside▪ 
Looks so like Truth, I cannot disbelieve it.  
This is your Dagger, yesternight you dropped it;  To him. 
Can you remember where?—  Agile. 
— Nor where, nor when:  
Only thus much I know, I missed it first  
When from your Royal Mother I retired  
With Gunderic.—  Amb. 
— Now on a Prince's Word,  
Which ought to be as sacred as the Oaths  
Of Vulgar Souls, answer me truly; did you  
Then miss your Dagger when you say, nor had it  
In your possession since?—  Agile. 
— By all my Hopes  
Of Happiness, I never viewed it since,  
Till you produced it now.—  Amb. 
— My Lord, your words  
Have staggered my Belief, and make me doubt  
I have been led by false Appearances:  
But till I'm more resolved, I must detain you  
A Prisoner still: If you are Innocent,  
That Knowledge will compose and calm your thoughts▪  
What pity 'tis, ye Gods, we seldom find  
A just Resemblance of the Face and Mind!  
Could we but read the Hearts of Men, like you,  
What Godlike Justice might we Monarchs do!  Exeunt severally.   

ACT V.  

SCENE a Chamber-Royal.  Enter Gunderic and Amalazontha. Gund. 
THat Love by which you urge me to a grant,  
Denies your strange request; Why should you tempt  
Unnecessary hazards? your soft Sex,  
In safety placed, should leave to us the dangers  
And drudgery of War.—  Amal. 
— There is no danger:  
Or were it ne'er so great, I ought to share it  
As well as your Success; besides, my Agilmond  
Is now at stake; and every doubtful minute,  
By leaving me uncertain of his Fate,  
Will give me many Deaths.—  Gund. 
— You shall overcome:  
But lest some fatal Dart should rob me of you,  
I'll once more offer Mercy, and myself  
In Person treat with them.—  Enter Ferrismond. Fer. 
— My Lord, your Forces  
Are all drawn up, and wait for your Commands.  Gund. 
Let them advance, and tell them, Ferrismond,  
My Queen and I will head them. This rash Boy  Exit Ferrismond. 
Has by this vain Attempt given me fair warning  
To make sure work; and I with little pains  
May quash this young Rebellion.—  Enter a Vandal. Vandal. 
— Pardon, Sir,  
The luckless Bearer of unwelcome news:  
Old Vinderic, the Gothish General,  
Is at the head of thirty thousand Rebels  
Advancing hither.—  Gund. 
— Then we shall have work  
More tough than I expected. How near are they?  Vandal. 
Last Night they quartered seven Leagues off, to Morrow  
Expect to see them here.—  Gund. 
— I'm satisfied;  
We shall have time enough to finish here  
Before they can arrive. O Agilmond,  
Thy Guilt, if proved, will more distract my Soul,  
Than the united Force of all my Enemies.  Exeunt.  

SCENE, the Citadel.  Enter Ambiomer, Briomer, Albimer, Gothish Lords, etc. Amb. 
Though long Experience joined with daring Valour,  
Are met in Gunderic, to make up an Enemy  
Too great to be despised; yet your known Courage,  
And our just Cause do give me full Assurance  
Of wished Success: I feel an inward joy,  
Which tells me this important Day will crown  
Our forward hopes with vast Advantages.  Brio. 
May all those hopes prove true! or only fail  
In promising less than your Fate performs!  Amb. 
My Lord, I thank you: Gunderic, I hear,  
Whose fiery temper hates the dull delay  
Of formally Besieging, has resolved  
To carry us by Storm; we must prepare  
To give him a sharp welcome. Hark! his Drums!  
He's advancing towards us; let us all  
Attend our several Charges. Come, my Lords,  
Now let us show the ancient Gothish Courage,  
Which made the Romans tremble.  Exeunt.  

SCENE A large Space before the Citadel. Drums beat a March.  Enter Gunderic, Amalazontha, Genselaric, Ferrismond, Rodoric, Almeric, etc. Gund. 
Though with our Arms in Hand 'tis much below us  
To treat with Rebels, yet since you, my Queen  
May be exposed to some unlucky Arrow,  
We'll condescend to parley. Let our Drums  
Declare our pleasure to them.—  Drums beat a Parley, than Ambiomer, Briomer, etc. appear on the Walls. 
— Which is he  
You call Ambiomer, the new-found Prince?  Amb. 
I am Ambiomer, King of the Goths,  
And rightful Owner of those large Dominions  
Possessed by Rhadagaise, my Royal Father.  Gund. 
To me he lost them; by this Arm he fell,  
And with him fell his Kingdom.—  Amb. 
— You than claim  
By right of Conquest only; and if I  
By Strength of Arms can pluck that Title from you,  
The right again is mine.—  Gund. 
— O! never hope it:  
As soon you may from the avenging Powers  
Snatch their dread Bolts of Fury, as from me,  
That which my Sword made mine. But listen now  
To what my Pity of your Youth inclines me.  
So well I love the Brave, that though this Action  
Does savour more of Rrashness, or Despair,  
Than prudent Valour; yet, release the Prince,  
Give up the Fortress, and return again  
To your forsaken Duty, and your Fault  
Shall die forgotten, like an idle Dream  
That passed unheeded by.—  Amb. 
—— Such Dreams as these  
Carry vast moment with them, and ofttimes  
Portend the fall of Monarchs. Think not, Gunderic,  
That this attempt is like a short-lived Blazo  
That dies as soon as kindled: no, the Justice  
On which our Cause is built, though we should perish,  
Would from the midst of your own Subjects raise  
Some Valiant Spirit to redress our Wrongs,  
And bravely strike to right a Ravished Virgin.  Gund. 
Be witness for me, Gods, how much I loathe  
A Villainy like that! How much my Heart  
Deplores with Tears of Blood the Virtuous Princess!  
And if the Prince be Guilty, not yourself  
Should run more greedily to just Revenge  
Than I; no more I'll own him for my Son,  
But blot him from my Memory for ever,  
And give him up to Justice.—  Amb. 
— 'Tis not safe  
To venture so the Honour of our Race  
Upon the partial Justice of a Father:  
The soundest Proofs against so strong a Prejudice  
Will weigh but little.—  Gund. 
— How have I descended  
Below myself, to bandy words with Rebels,  
And in return, meet nothing but Contempt!  
But I will rouse my sleeping Majesty,  
And speak in Thunder to them.— Hear me you  
That try beneath the Prince to shroud the Traitor,  
Hear what your King commands. Deliver up  
The Fortress straight, and with a quick Submission  
Implore the Pardon you so proudly slighted,  
Or the Revenge which I will take, shall stand  
To after times exemplary and dreadful.  Amb. 
Threats cannot frighten Men: now hear me, Gunderic.  
Not that I doubt the Issue, or despair  
Of wished Success; but that I may not leave  
To chance, a thing of such vast consequence  
As is our House's Honour, which would suffer  
In wanting just Revenge; soon as your Forces  
Attempt our Strengths, the Head of Agilmond,  
Reeking with Blood, shall be thrown over to you:  
And the first hour of your Assault shall be  
His last of Life.—  Amal. 
— The Head of Agilmond!  
Forbid it, Heaven! rather let me disclose, Aside.  
With hazard of my Life, the fatal Secret  
Which has so long lain hid!—  Gund. 
— You dare not act  
What you would seem to threaten.—  Amb. 
— Let my daring  
Be put to trial, and you soon will find  
How much I dare, or little.—  Gund. 
— Now, by heavens',  
He mocks my Anger, the insulting Boy!  
And dallies with my Rage. But let me live  
Branded with the base Names of Slave and Coward,  
If any tame results of Blood or Nature  
Withhold my just Revenge. Genselaric,  
Begin th' Assault. Perish ten thousand Sons,  
Rather than I'll endure Affronts like these:  
Though Agilmond should fall, my Noble Vengeance  
Shall, like another Son, keep up my Fame,  
And make my Name Immortal.—  Is going, Amalazontha holds him. Amal. 
— Stay! O stay!  
My Royal Husband; and before you go  
To this most fatal Conflict, give one Moment  
To the sad Transports of a mourning Mother:  
And you Ambiomer, attend a while,  
For I have mighty Wonders to disclose.  Gund. 
What means the Woman? Can you have aught to say  
That may at such a time as this be worth  
One Moment's stop?—  Amal. 
— Yes, my loved Lord, I have.  Kneeling. 
But first unbend your Brow, whilst on my Knees  
I humbly beg your Pardon, that I durst  
Thus long deceive you: Agilmond is not  
What he appears, nor could commit a Rape  
On fair Eurione.—  Gund. 
— You speak in Riddles;  
Explain your mystic meaning, and dispatch us.  Amal. 
Let me not lose your Love for ever, when  
I tell you he's a Woman.—  Gund. 
— Ha! a Woman!  Amb. 
Ye Gods! can this be true?—  Amal. 
— Put off your wonder,  
Whilst I unfold the mighty Mystery.  
When you, my Lord, went to the Gothish War,  
You left me pregnant;  
And your impatient wishes for a Son  
Forced out a Solemn Vow, that if my Issue  
Proved Female, it should die.—  Gund. 
— 'Tis true, I did so;  
And though the Vow was rash, yet being made,  
I had not failed to keep it.—  Amal. 
— Too well I know it;  
And therefore many doubtful Conflicts passed  
'Twixt a Wife's Duty, and a Mother's tenderness:  
Nature at last o'ercome, and made me venture  
What most I feared, your Anger, nay, your Hatred,  
To save a harmless Babe. My time drew near;  
And I, assisted by two faithful Servants,  
Disposed all things with privacy and care  
To favour the deceit: My pangs were short,  
And soon rewarded with the happy Birth  
Of a most lovely Child, but as my fears  
Too truly had suggested, of that Sex  
Which you had doomed to Death. I then resolved  
To put in practice what I long designed,  
And bred it as a Male.—  Gund. 
— 'Tis wondrous strange!  
How could you blind the piercing eyes of those  
Whom I at my departure had appointed  
To pry into its Sex?—  Amal. 
— A new born Male  
Was by my Faithful Confidents prepared;  
Which hid within the Bed, and drawn from thence,  
Confirmed them all that I had born a Son:  
My Infant Daughter was for some few Weeks,  
Under pretence of Sickness, bred in private;  
And for her real Name of Elismonda,  
Took that of Agilmond.—  Gund. 
— The strange Events  
Of this amazing day have been so wonderful,  
Methinks I stand prepared to credit firmly  
The most unlikely News. 'Tis you, ye Gods,  
Whose overruling Providence contrived  
This Maze of Fate! and Kings, though Gods on Earth  
Must not contest with you! Nor have I lost  
By this Exchange; since for a Son, whose weakness  
Has often made me blush, I gain a Daughter  
Well worth the owning. Madam, rise; and let  
This strict Embrace atone for all the troubles  
Which my rash Vow has caused you.—  Amal. 
— Let me thus  Kneeling again. 
Receive the mighty Blessing.—  Gund. 
— Now, Ambiomer,  
You see the rash Mistakes to which your Passion  
Has led you Blindfold: Agilmond, you find,  
Cannot be guilty of that horrid Rape  
Of which he stands accused.—  Amb. 
— My Lord, I know it;  
And 'tis with wondrous shame that I reflect  
On the unworthy treatment I have given  
That injured Princess: But it is not yet  
Too late to make amends, and my Repentance  
Shall move with winged haste. Madam, I go  
To send you that loved Daughter, which has been  
So much the Care of Heaven. But oh! my Sister!  
Where shall we find the Lustful Villain now,  
That robbed thee of thy Honour?—  Gund. 
— Stay, Ambiomer,  
And hear me speak; I see so much of Honour  
Break through your gusts of Passion, that at once  
I pity and esteem you; and to show it,  
Invite you to come forth: On a King's Word,  
(And he who trusts my Honour, never shall  
Have reason to repent him) you shall meet  
With Honourable Usage. Fate and I  
Have mighty thinks in store for your advantage,  
Unless your own Distrust of both defeat them.  Brio. 
Consider, Sir, e'er you consent too easily,  
That the whole Fortune of the Gothish Nation  
Depends upon your Conduct.  Amb. 
I will answer  
For the Success of what I now design:  
I see his aim, nor will I doubt his Honour.  
My Lord, I am resolved to trust your Honour,  
And wait the Princess home: But first be pleased  
To draw your Forces off, that my Surrender  
May have no show of Fear.—  Gund. 
— Genselaric,  
Conduct them off; come, my Amalazontha,  
The Triumphs which were destined for this day  
Shall yet go on, and, though thus crossed, shall join  Drums beating, Trumpets sounding. 
A double Crown for ever in our Line.  Exeunt Gund. etc. below, Ambiomer, etc. above.  

SCENE, A Chamber in the Citadel.  Enter Ambiomer and Briomer. Brio. 
You know, my Lord, 'twas always my Opinion,  
That Agilmond was Innocent; and once  
I hinted to you, my suspicions tended  
Another way; they're now so much confirmed,  
I dare impart them to you.—  Amb. 
— Good my Lord,  
Inform me quickly, that my Rage may find  
A lawful Object, and my Breast be quieted  
With Hopes of just Revenge for my wronged Sister.  Brio. 
As it appeared unlikely, that the Prince  
Should snatch by force what the succeeding night  
Had given him freely; so it seemed to me  
Most probable, that some despairing Lover,  
Cut off from all his Hopes, should force the Joy,  
Which otherwise he was to lose for ever:  
This made me doubt the General; with whose love  
To fair Eurione I'm well acquainted,  
And had it from himself.—  Amb. 
— His love to her  
The Queen informed me of; but that alone  
Seems much too weak a ground to judge him Guilty.  Brio. 
I grant, my Lord, it is; and therefore this  
Did but awake my Doubts: What shocked me more,  
Was that I learned he had not been at home  
During that dismal Night.—  Amb. 
— I must confess  
Such an unusual absence looked suspicious.  Brio. 
But that which most confirms me that he was  
The Ravisher, is the Confusion visible  
In him and his upon the late Discovery  
Of Agilmond's true Sex; for I my Eyes  
Did rivet to their Faces, and observed  
More than Surprise, Vexation, Grief, and Care,  
With frequent Whispers, and such cloudy Looks  
As Guilty Men can never well put off.  Amb. 
Continue, my dear Briomer, to make  
Your Observations still.  
But I will yet be calm, and when our Doubts  
Are grown up into Certainties, fall on him  
With unresisted Fury.— Is the Princess  Enter Albimer. 
Yet ready to depart?—  Albi. 
— My Lord, she is;  
And in her Female Habit looks so lovely,  
That none, except the fair Eurione,  
Can vie with her for Beauty.—  Amb. 
— When she passed  
For Agilmond, her Features and Complexion  
Were much too delicate for what she seemed.  
My Lords, let all attend her to the Palace;  
The King, though cruel, has a generous Soul,  
And will not wrong our Trust.  Exeunt.  

SCENE a rich Hall in the Palace.  Enter Gunderic, Amalazontha, Genselaric, Ferrismond, Rodoric, Almeric, Guards and Attendants. Gund. 
How strange are all the turns of Providence!  
And by what secret steps does Heaven advance  
Its own designs, and mock our humane Prudence!  
Yet where it means to bless, it makes us happy  
By Methods hid from us: This day's design  
Was to unite in Bands of lasting Friendship  
The Vandals and the Goths, and join by Marriage  
The double Royal Line; and that intent  
This happy day will finish, but by ways  
Unthought of, unforeseen: a Male and Female  
Are on each side discovered, long concealed  
For Reasons almost equal; Fate has matched them,  
And the agreeing course of both their lives  
Has marked them each for other.—  Amal. 
— 'Tis so visible,  
That to oppose it were to fight with Heaven,  
And counterplot the Wisdom of the Gods.  Gund. 
I long to see the new found Elismonda  
Dressed in her Sex's Habit; if she bears  
Her change as well as young Ambiomer,  
I shall not much regret the loss of Agilmond.  Amal. 
He has, indeed, a charming Manly Beauty,  
Which challenges at once, Respect and Love.  
But hark! your subjects' joy proclaim their coming;  Shouts within. 
And see, they're here already—  Enter Ambiomer, Elismonda in her own habit, Briomer, Albimer, Gothish Lords, etc. 
— O! my Daughter;  
Is it then given me to embrace you thus?  
To call you Elismonda? and behold you  
Confessed what Nature meant you?—  Gund. 
Accept, my Daughter,  Embracing her. 
A Father's Penitence, who ne'er had passed  
So harsh a Doom upon your Infant State,  
Could he have then foreseen the mighty Joys  
Your riper Years have brought him.—  Elis. 
— Royal Sir,  
Excuse a Criminal that dared to live  
When doomed to death by you.—  Gund. 
— Let us blot out  
Those sad Remembrances, and turn our thoughts  
To Scenes of welcome Joy.— To you, brave Prince,  To Amb. 
And your mistaken Zeal, we owe the blessed  
Discovery of this Secret; and your firm  
Reliance on my Honour, has engaged  
My grateful Soul to make you large Returns;  
Nor shall they be delayed: but where's the Queen  
Your Royal Mother?—  Amb. 
— With my mourning Sister.  Gund. 
Alas! poor injured Innocence! How I loved her,  
My late design of matching her with Agilmond  
Sufficiently expressed; how now I pity her,  
My dire Revenge upon the lustful Villain,  
Whenever found out, that robbed her of her Honour,  
Shall loudly prove. But say, Ambiomer,  
On what strange ground did your Suspicion work,  
To six the Guilt of such an horrid Action  
On the supposed Agilmond?—  Amb. 
— I never  
Should dare to look upon this injured Princess  
Had I not gone upon the strongest Circumstances  
That could engage Belief. Your Majesty  
Well knows this Dagger; in the very place  
Where that foul Villainy was done, I found it.  Elis. 
I know not where I lost it, but I guess,  
'Twas in the Gothish Queen's Apartment.—  Fer. 
— Madam,  
I saw you drop it there; and I remember  
I stooped to take it up, but was prevented  
By Rodoric.—  Brio. 
— My Lord, observed you that?  To Amb. aside, Gund. 
By Rodoric? He then must needs be able  
To give us some account of this dire action.  
Come hither, Rodoric; you know that Dagger?  Rod. 
My Lord, I think I oft have seen it worn  
By our fair Princess.—  Gund. 
— Had you it of late  
In your Possession? Speak.—  Rod. 
— No, Royal Sir.  Fer. 
Sure you forget; I saw you take it up  
But Yesterday.—  Rod. 
— 'Tis true, indeed, I did;  
But lost it soon.—  Gund. 
— It must be so, he falters:  
By all my hopes of Glory, he's the Villain.  
My Guards, there, seize and bear him hence to Torture;  
We'll see what Sense the Rack will force from him.  Gen. 
So much I hate a Crime so black as his,  
I'll see him racked myself, and bring your Majesty  
A just account.—  Briomer whispers the King. Gund. 
— My Lord, you much amaze me:  
But nought shall be omitted, that may serve  
To solve this fatal Riddle. Seize the General.  Gen. 
Me! Royal Sir?—  Gund. 
— I will not hear him speak.  
Entreat the Queen and Ravished Princess hither.  Exit Briomer 
Now bear that Villain forth. You, Ferrismond,  
Go see him racked, and bring me an account  
Of what he shall discover.—  Rod. 
In vain you seek what you must never find;  
An Innocence like mine can laugh at Torments.  Is carried off, Ferrismond attends, etc. Gund. 
— Now, Ambiomer,  
Prepare to see what just Revenge I'll take  
Upon the Lustful Slave that durst pollute  
The Sacred Blood of Kings.—  Amb. 
— This Royal Justice  
For ever makes me yours.—  Enter Rhadegonda, Eurione in Mourning, and Briomer. Eur. 
Ah! whither do you lead me, cruel Briomer?  Eurione draws back. 
Let me for ever hide my Face in Darkness:  
I am not sit for Light; a stain like mine  
Should seek for Everlasting Night to cover it.  Brio. 
Madam, the King invites you to assist  
In the discovery of the cursed Ravisher,  
And then to taste the Pleasure of just Vengeance.  Eur. 
Vengeance? will that restore my Ravished Honour?  
I cannot bear their eyes; already see  
All turn and gaze, as if they saw a Monster.  Gund. 
Approach, fair Sufferer; and suspend a while  
Your cruel Griefs, to entertain a Joy  
The Gods themselves are fond of, just Revenge.  
View this supposed Criminal; not my Blood  
Which flows within his Veins, shall privilege him.  Eur. 
Oh I have seen enough: the Ring! the Ring!  Swoons away, they chafe her, she recovers. Amb. 
What means my best loved Sister?—  Eur. 
— O that Ring!  
It was impossible so black a Crime  
Should be concealed for ever. That bright Jewel,  
Worn by the Lustful Villain, glittered then  
Through all the shades of Night, and now reveals  
The cursed Ravisher.—  Amb. 
— O ye just Gods,  
By what amazing ways you make the Guilty  
Meet their just Vengeance!—  Enter Ferrismond. Fer. 
— Rodoric, Royal Sir,  
Has on the Rack accused Genselaric  
To be the Actor of this horrid Rape,  
And that himself and Almeric assisted him.  Gund. 
Secure that other Villain! How was I  
Mistaken in this Monster!  Amb. 
— Speak, foul Ravisher,  
What Devil prompted you to such an Action  
As Fiends would blush to own?  Gen. 
— 'Twas Love, or Lust,  
Give it which name you will. The mighty Pleasure  
I then received, will scarce be bought too dear  
By all that I can suffer. Rodoric  
Can tell you more: For me, I vow to keep  
An Everlasting silence.—  Gund. 
— Force of Torture  
Shall break your wilful silence, and compel you  
To Groan, if not to speak.—  Amb. 
— My Royal Lord,  
When first I found this Weapon, I vowed solemnly,  
That my sad Soul should never taste of Quiet,  
Till in the lustful Villain's Blood I drenched  
The thirsty Blade.— Thus I perform my Vow.  Stabs Gen. 
And though the foulness of a Guilt like yours  
Deserves the common Hangman to avenge it;  
Yet since the Royal Blood of Gunderic  
Flows in your Veins, die by a Prince's hand.  Gund. 
Young Man, you are too rash.—  Amb. 
— Thus low I beg  Kneeling. 
Your Royal Pardon, and submit myself  
To what your justly kindled Rage ordains.  
I harkened to my wrongs; and they allowed me  
No leisure to consult with due respect.  Gund. 
Rise up, brave Prince; I only grieve he met  
A Fate so Noble. Fair Eurione,  
This Virgin will endeavour to divert you,  
And make you lose your Sorrows.—  Eur. 
— Royal Sir,  
Could my lost state admit of any Comfort,  
I sure, should find it there. But Life has nothing  
That I can relish now. Blessed opportunity!  Aside. 
I see the friendly means to end my Sorrow,  Sees the Dagger. 
And make my Fame Immortal;  
But shall I mix my Blood with such a Villain's?  
Stained and polluted as it is, 'tis fit  
To mingle with no other.  Snatches the Dagger, and stabs herself. Amb. 
— Hold, Eurione!  
What has despairing Sorrow forced you to?  Eur. 
To seek the only cure for that distemper  
Which I have laboured under. Nor had I waved  
This Remedy so long, but that I waited  
To see my injured Honour first revenged.  
What farther use of Life can I propose?  
Since nothing more is to be lost or gained;  
My Honour gone, and my Revenge obtained.  Dies. Rhad. 
Alas! my Daughter!  
The Gods must have in store mighty Reserves  
Of Happiness, to make you just amends  
For what you suffered here.—  Amb. 
— O Royal Victim!  
How does the Soul of our Immortal Father  
Look down with Joy upon his dying Offspring,  
And bless his Noble Issue.—  Amal. 
Let not unprofitable Sorrow, Madam,  
Make you insensible of solid Joys;  
Eurione has gained a Fame by dying,  
Which the most happy life may envy.—  Gund. 
— Madam,  
You mourn a Daughter lost, to fill her room  
Accept this Maid, the only Prop and Comfort  
Of my declining Age; in gaining her  
I lost a Son; but shall be much overpaid,  
If this brave Prince will take his empty place,  
And let me call him mine.—  Rhad. 
— What vast returns  
Of Gratitude am I obliged to make  
For such a mighty Present?—  Amb. 
— Let me thus  Kneeling. 
Low on my Knees receive the glorious Fortune  
Your Goodness has designed me. If you, Madam,  
Consent to favour my aspiring hopes  
The Blessing will be infinite.  Elis. 
— The King commands,  
And I must ne'er dispute his Royal Will.  Gund. 
Draw near Ambiomer and Elismonda;  
Thus I unite your hands, and may this be  
A Match of Nations, whilst the Goths and Vandals  
Linked in a firm Alliance look on you  
As on their double Pledge of mutual Friendship.  Amb. 
All my past Griefs are swallowed up and lost  
In this vast tide of Joy: and Fate has given  
More than my most aspiring hopes could aim at.  
Come, beauteous Elismonda, let's prepare  
To meet Love's richest Joys: And from our Fate  
The World may learn this Lesson, that the Gods,  
While Human Policy contends in vain,  
Will their own Ends by their own Ways obtain.  Exeunt omnes.   
FINIS.