'Like a young hound upon a burning fcent: He's gone a harlot hunting.

Alph. His foreign breeding might have taught him better.

Ped. 'Tis that has taught him this.

• What learn our youth abroad, but to refine
The homely vices of their native land?
Give me an honeft home-spun country clown
Of our own growth; his dulnefs is but plain,
But theirs embroidered; they are sent out fools,
And come back fops.

Alph. You know what reafons urg'd me;
But now I have accomplished my defigns,
'I fhould be glad he knew them. His wild riots
• Disturb my foul; but they would fit more close,
• Did not the threaten'd downfall of our house,

• In Torrifmond, o'erwhelm my private ills.

"Enter Bertran attended, and whispering with a Courtier

afide.

Bert. I would not have her think he dar'd to love

If he prefumes to own it, fhe's so proud,

He tempts his certain ruin.

[her ;

Alph. [To Ped.] Mark how difdainfully he throws

his eyes on us.

* Our old imprison'd king wore no fuch looks.

• Ped. O, would the General shake off his dotage to th'ufurping Queen,

And re-inthrone good venerable Sancho ;

I'll underdake, fhould Bertran found his trumpets, • And Torrifmond but whistle through his fingers, He draws his army off.

Alph. I told him fo;

But had an answer louder than a storm.

• Ped. Now plague and pox on his fmock-loyalty; I hate to fee a brave, bold fellow fotted,

Made four and fenfelefs, turn'd to whey, by love;
A driveling hero, fit for a romance.

'O, here he comes: what will their greeting be?'
Enter Torrifmond attended. Bertran and he meet and jufile.
Bert. Make way, my lords, and let the pageant pafs.
Tor. I make my way where-e'er I fee my toe:
C

But

But you, my Lord, are good at a retreat.
I have no Moors behind me.

Bert. Death and hell!

Dare to speak thus when you come out again.
Tor. Dare to provoke me thus, infulting man.
Enter Terefa.

Ter. My Lords, you are too loud fo near the Queen; You, Torrifmond, have much offended her. 'Tis her command you inftantly appear,

To answer your demeanour to the prince.

(Exit Terefa; Bertran with his company following her. Tor. O, Pedro! O, Alphonfo! pity me!

A grove of pikes,

Whofe polifh'd steel from far feverely fhines,
Are not fo dreadful as this beauteous queen.

Alph. Call up your courage timely to your aid,
And, like a lion prefs'd upon the toils,

Leap on your hunters. Speak your actions boldly.
There is a time when modeft virtue is

Allow'd to praise itself.

Ped. Heart, you were hot enough, too hot, but now; Your fury then boil'd upward to a foam :

But fince this meffage came, you fink and fettle,

As if cold water had been pour'd upon you.

Tor. Alas, thou know'st not what it is to love! When we behold an angel, not to fear,

Is to be impudent: no, I'm refolv❜d,

Like a led victim, to my death I'll

go,

And, dying, blefs the hand that gave the blow.

[Exeunt. The SCENE draws, and fhews the Queen fitting in ftate: Bertran Alanding next her; then Terefa, &c. She rifes, and comes to the front.

Qu. [To Ber.] I blame not you, my Lord; my father's will,

Your own deferts, and all my people's voice,
Have plac'd you in the view of fov'reign power.
But I would learn the cause, why Torrifmond,
Within my palace walls, within my hearing,
Almost within my fight, affronts a prince
Who fhortly shall command him.

Bert

Ber. He thinks you owe him more than you can pay, And looks as he were lord of human kind.

Enter Torrifmond, Alphonfo, and Pedro.

Torrismond bows low, then looks earnefily on the Queen, and keeps at diftance.

Ter. Madam, the General.

Qu. Let me view him well.

My father fent him early to the frontiers.

I have not often feen him; if I did,

He pafs'd unmark'd by my unheeding eyes.
But where's the fierceness, the difdainful pride,
The haughty port, the fiery arrogance?

By all thefe marks, this is not fure the man.

Bert. Yet this is he who fill'd your court with tumult,
Whose fierce demeanour, and whose infolence,
The patience of a god could not fupport.

Qu. Name his offence, my Lord, and he fhall have
Immediate punishment.

Bert, 'Tis of fo high a nature, should I speak it,
That my prefumption then would equal his.
Qu. Some one among you speak.

Ped. [Afide.] Now my tongue itches.

Qu. All dumb! On your allegiance, Torrismond,
By all your hopes, I do command you, fpeak.

Tor. [Kneeling.] O feek not to convince me of a crime
Which I can ne'er repent, nor can you pardon;
Or, if you needs will know it, think, Oh think,
That he who thus commanded dares to speak,
Unless commanded, would have dy'd in filence.
But you adjur'd me, Madam, by my hopes!
Hopes I have none, for I am all defpair;
Friends I have none, for friendship follows favour;
Defert I have none, for what I did was duty:
Oh, that it were! that it were duty all!
2. Why do you paufe? Proceed.

Tor. As one condemn'd to leap a precipice,
Who fees before his eyes the depth below,
Stops fhort, and looks about for fome kind fhrub
To break his dreadful fall-fo I—

But whither am I going? If to death,
He looks fo lovely tweet in beauty's pomp,
He draws me to his dart.-I dare no more.

Bert. He's mad beyond the cure of Hellebore.
Whips, darknefs, dungeons for this infolence.
Tor. Mad as I am, yet I know when to bear.
Qu. You're both too bold. You, Torrifmond, withdraw;
I'll teach you all what's owing to your queen.
For you, my Lord

The priest to-morrow was to join our hands;
I'll try if I can live a day without you.
So both of you depart, and live in peace.
Alph. Who knows which way fhe points?
Doubling and turning like an hunted hare.
Find out the meaning of her mind who can.

Ped. Who ever found a woman's? Backward and forward. The whole fex in every word. In my confcience, when he was getting, her mother was thinking of a riddle. [Exeunt all but the Queen and Terefa. Qu. Hafte, my Teresa, hafte, and call him back. Ter. Whom, Madam?

Qu. Him.

Fer. Prince Bertran ♪

2. Torrifiond;

There is no other he.

Fer: [Afide.] A rifing fun,

• Or I am much deceiv'd.'

[Exit Terefa

Qu. A change fo fwift what heart did ever feel!

It rufh'd upon me like a mighty stream,
And bore me in a moment far from fhore.
I've lov'd away myself; in one short hour
Already am I gone an age of paffion.
Was it his youth, his valour, or fuccefs?
Thefe might perhaps be found in other men.
'Twas that refpect, that awful homage paid me;
"That fearful love which trembled in his eyes,
And with a filent earthquake fhook his foul.
But, when he spoke, what tender words he faid!
So foftly, that, like flakes of feather'd fnow,

They melted as they fell.

Enter Terefa with Torrifmond.

Fer. He waits your pleasure.

So diftant from my heart.............

Qu. 'Tis well; retire-Oh, Heav'ns, that I muft fpeak

[Afide.

[To

[To Tor.] How now! What boldnefs brings you back

Tor. I heard 'twas your command.
Qu. A fond mistake,

To credit fo unlikely a command.

And you return full of the fame prefumption,

T'affront me with your love?

[again?

Tor. If 'tis prefumption, for a wretch condemn'd,
To throw himself beneath his judge's feet:

A boldness more than this I never knew;
Or, if I did, 'twas only to your foes.

Qu. You would infinuate your past fervices,
And those, I grant, were great; but you confefs
A fault committed fince, that cancels all,

Tor. And who could dare to difavow his crime,
5 When that for which he is accus'd and feiz'd,
He bears about him ftill! My eyes confefs it;
My every action speaks my heart aloud :
But, Oh, the madnefs of my high attempt
Speaks louder yet! and all together cry,
I love and I defpair.

Qu. Have you not heard,

My father, with his dying voice, bequeath'
My crown and me to Bertran? And dare
A private man, prefume to love a queen?

you,

Tor. That, that's the wound! I fee you fet fo high,

As no defert or fervices can reach :

Good heav'ns, why gave you me a monarch's foul,
And crufted it with base Plebeian clay?
Why gave you me defires of fuch extent,
And fuch afpan to grafp them? Sure my lot
By fome o'er-hafty angel was mifplac'd
In Fate's eternal voluine!

-But I rave,

And, like a giddy bird in dead of night,

Fly round the fire that fcorches me to death.
Qu. Yes, Torrifmond, you've not fo ill deferv'd,

But I may give you counfel for your cure.
Tor. I cannot, nay, I wish not to be cur'd.
Qu. [Afide.] Nor I, Heav'n knows!
Tor. There is a pleasure fure

In being mad, which none but madmen know!
Let me indulge it; let me gaze for ever!

C 3

And,