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SIR TRUSTY, Keeper of the Bower. ROSAMOND.




GRIDELINE, Wife to Sir Trusty.

Guardian Angels, &c.



SCENE I-A prospect of Woodstock Park, terminating in the Bower.

Enter QUEEN and PAGE.

QUEEN. WHAT place is here!

What scenes appear


Where'er I turn my eyes,

All around

Enchanted ground

And soft Elysiums rise:

Flowery mountains,

Mossy fountains,

Shady woods,

Crystal floods,

With wild variety surprise;
As o'er the hollow vaults we walk,2
A hundred echoes round us talk:
From hill to hill the voice is tost,
Rocks rebounding,

Caves resounding,

Not a single word is lost.

PAGE. There gentle Rosamond immured,
Lives from the world and you secured.

QUEEN. Curse on the name! I faint, I die,


With secret pangs of jealousy. [Aside

The comic scenes of this opera are pleasant and entertaining.

Alluding to the famous echo in Woodstock Park.

PAGE. There does the pensive beauty mourn,
And languish for her lord's return.

QUEEN. Death and confusion! I'm too slow- [Aside.
Show me the happy mansion, show-

PAGE. Great Henry there—

QUEEN. Trifler, no more!—


-Great Henry there

Will soon forget the toils of war.

QUEEN. No more! the happy mansion show
That holds this lovely, guilty foe.

My wrath, like that of heaven, shall rise,
And blast her in her paradise.

PAGE. Behold on yonder rising ground
The bower, that wanders

In meanders,

Ever bending,

Never ending,

Glades on glades,

Shades in shades,
Running an eternal round:

QUEEN. In such an endless maze I rove,
Lost in labyrinths of love.

My breast with hoarded vengeance burns,
While fear and rage

With hope engage,

And rule my wavering soul by turns. PAGE. The path yon verdant field divides, Which to the soft confinement guides.

QUEEN. Eleonora, think betimes,

What are thy hated rival's crimes!
Whither, ah whither dost thou go!
What has she done to move thee so!
-Does she not warm with guilty fires
The faithless lord of my desires?
Have not her fatal arts removed
My Henry from my arms?

'Tis her crime to be loved,

'Tis her crime to have charms.

Let us fly, let us fly,

She shall die, she shall die.

I feel,

I feel my heart relent,

How could the fair be innocent!

To a monarch like mine,
Who would not resign!
One so great and so brave
All hearts must enslave.




PAGE. Hark, hark! what sound invades
The conqueror's approach I hear.
He comes, victorious Henry comes.
Hautboys, trumpets, fifes, and drums,
In dreadful concert joined,
Send from afar

A sound of war,

And fill with horror every wind.
QUEEN. Henry returns, from danger free!
Henry returns!-but not to me.
He comes his Rosamond to greet,
And lay his laurels at her feet,
His vows impatient to renew;
His vows to Eleonora due.
Here shall the happy nymph detain,
(While of his absence I complain,)
Hid in her mazy, wanton bower,
My lord, my life, my conqueror.
No, no, 'tis decreed

The traitress shall bleed;
No fear shall alarm,

No pity disarm;

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shall be seen

The revenge of a queen.

SCENE II.-The entry of the Bower.

SIR TRUSTY, Knight of the Bower, solus

How unhappy is he,

That is tied to a she,

And famed for his wit and his beauty!

For of us pretty fellows

Our wives are so jealous,

They ne'er have enough of our duty.

But ah! my limbs begin to quiver,
I glow, I burn, I freeze, I shiver;

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GRID. Faithless varlet, art thou there?
SIR TR. My love, my dove, my charming fair!
GRID. Monster, thy wheedling tricks I know.
SIR TR. Why wilt thou call thy turtle so?
GRID. Cheat not me with false caresses.
SIR TR. Let me stop thy mouth with kisses.
GRID. Those to fair Rosamond are due.
SIR TR. She is not half so fair as you.
GRID. She views thee with a lover's eye.
SIR TR. I'll still be thine, and let her die.
GRID. No, no, 'tis plain. Thy frauds I see,
Traitor to thy king and me!

SIR TR. O Grideline! consult thy glass,
Behold that sweet, bewitching face,
Those blooming cheeks, that lovely hue!
Every feature

(Charming creature)

Will convince you I am true.
GRID. Oh how blest were Grideline,
Could I call Sir Trusty mine!
Did he not cover amorous wiles,
With soft, but ah! deceiving smiles :
How should I revel in delight,

The spouse of such a peerless knight!

SIR TR. At length the storm begins to cease, I've soothed and flattered her to peace. 'Tis now my turn to tyrannize : I feel, I feel my fury rise!


Tigress, begone.

-I love thee so

I cannot go.

SIR TR. Fly from my passion, beldame, fly!
GRID. Why so unkind, Sir Trusty, why?



SIR TR. Thou 'rt the plague of my life.
GRID. I'm a foolish fond wife.
SIR TR. Let us part,

Let us part.

GRID. Will you break my poor heart?
Will you break

SIR TR. I will if I can.

my poor heart?

GRID. O barbarous man!

From whence doth all this passion flow?

SIR TR. Thou art ugly and old,

And a villanous scold.

GRID. Thou art a rustic to call me so.

I'm not ugly nor old,

Nor a villanous scold,

But thou art a rustic to call me so.

Thou traitor, adieu!

SIR TR. Farewell, thou shrew!

GRID. Thou traitor,

SIR TR. Thou shrew,

BоTH. Adieu! adieu!

[Exit Grid.

SIR TR., solus. How hard is our fate,

Who serve in the state,

And should lay out our cares

On public affairs;

When conjugal toils,

And family broils,

Make all our great labours miscarry!

Yet this is the lot

Of him that has got

Fair Rosamond's bower,

With the clue in his power,

And is courted by all,

Both the great and the small,

As principal pimp to the mighty King Harry
But see the pensive fair draws near:
I'll at a distance stand and hear.



ROSA. From walk to walk, from shade to shade,
From stream to purling stream conveyed,

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