Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

Harvard opilege Tabrang
Apr, 18, 1908.
Gift of

Frank Eugene ChaBƏ

of

Boston

9792

53-89 23-10

Roberts del.

Publid for Bells British Theatre Nov? 1777.

MWARD in the Character of RODOGUNE.

-Ye Gods!

- tis he himself—

THE ROYAL CONVERT.

A TRAGEDY. BY NICHOLAS ROWE.

AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE-ROYAL COVENT GARDEN.

Regulated from the Prompt-Book, by permiffion of the Managers, BY MR. Wifo PROMPTER.

CHARACTERISTICKS.

The' my dateOf mortal life be short it shall be glorious-Each minute fhall be rich in fome great action-To speak the king, the hero, and the lover-There never was a medley of fuch thinking-Ambition, hatred, mifchief, and revenge-Gather like clouds on clouds; and then anon-Love, like a golden beam of light, shoots thro-Smiles on the gloom, and my heart bounds with pleasure. HENGIST.

How shall I teach my tongue to frame a language-Different from my heart-My heart was made-Simple and plain, and fraught with artlefs tenderness-Form'd to receive one love, and only one-It knows not what there can be in variety-And would not if it could Tis much beneath my courage and my truth-To borrow any mean difguife from falfehood-I dare die--But dare not be oblig'd. I dare not owe-What I can never render back -To defend-My honour and my love from violation-O'er ev'ry bar refiftlefs will I rufhAnd in despite of proud tyrannick Pow'r-Seize and affert my right. ARIBERT.

I will not think he meant it-Revenge had elfe been swift--So high I hold-The honour of a foldier and a king-I won't think your mafter meant to wrong me-Let him beware however What in a foe I pardon or defpife-Is deadly from a friend, and so to be repaid'Tis much beneath me-To ask again the debt you owe to honour-But mark me HengiftI am not us'd to wait; and if this day-Pafs unregarded as the former two-Soon as tomorrow dawns expect me-Arm'd in the field-Tho' I could with it otherwife-Believe me I would ftill be found thy friend.

OFFA.

I would preferve 'em both the royal brothers-But if their Fates ordain that one muft fall-Then let my mafter fland. This Chriftian woman-Ay, there the mifchief comes➡ Were the but well remov'd-Would 't were done-And my head fafe-That! let me look to that. SEOFRID.

Bred to my country's manners-I worship as my fathers did before me-Unpractis'd in difputes and wrangling fchools-I feek no farther knowledge, and fo keep-My mind at peace, nor know the pain of doubting-What others think I judge not of too nicely-But hold all honeft men are in the right. OSWALD.

Whate'er I am-Is of myself, by native worth exifling-My fierce haughty foul-Whate'er the suffers ftill difdains to bend How is the form'd, this rival of my love-To make her fhine beyond me-Her mind! Ye Gods! which of you all-Could make that great, and fit to rival mine-Has the a foul-Can dare like mine-Oh no! fhe cannot, nature cannot bear it-It finks ev'n me; the torrent drives me down-The native greatnefs of my fpirit fails-I will find her-For whom I am defpis'd-Look that he be your mafterpiece ye Gods! My jealous rage to move-A victim worthy my offended love-I feel my foul impatient of this bondage-Disdaining this unworthy idle paffion-And ftruggling to be free. Now, now it shoots-It tow'rs upon the wing to crowns and empire-Thou native greataefs of my foul befriend me. RODOGUNE.

Oh! fave me from pollution-Let me know--All miferies befide, each kind of forrow--And prove me with variety of pains-Whips, racks, and flames, for I was born to fuffer-I am arm'd, and equal to the combat. ETHELINDA,

EDINBURG:

At the Apollo Piels, by THE MARTINS, for Bell, LONDON, 1782.

« ZurückWeiter »