As d'er the hollow vaults we walk, * A hundred echoes round us talk : From bill to bill the voice is toft, Rocks rebounding, Caves refounding, Not a fingle word is loft. PAGE. There gentle Rosamond immured Lives from the world and you secured. QUEEN. Curse on the name! I faint, I die, With fecret pangs of jealoufy. PAGE. There does the pensive beauty mourn, And languish for her Lord's return. * Alluding to the famous echo in Woodstock-Park. [Afide [Afide. My My wrath, like that of heav'n, shall rise, PAGE. Behold on yonder rifing ground The bower, that wanders In meanders, Ever bending, Never ending, Glades on Glades, Shades on shades, Running an eternal round. QUEEN. In such an endless maze I rove, Loft in labyrinths of love. My breast with hoarded vengeance burns, While fear and rage With hope engage, And rule my wav'ring soul by turns. PAGE. The path yon verdant field divides, Which to the foft confinement guides, QUEEN. Eleonora, think betimes, -Does she not warm with guilty fire Have not her fatal arts remov'd My Henry from my arms? 'Tis her crime to be lov'd, '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 : To a monarch like mine, All bearts must enslave. PAGE. 1 Hark, bark! what sound invades my ear? He comes, victorious Henry comes! Send from afar A found of war, And fill with horror ev'ry mind. QUEEN. Henry returns from danger free! Here Here shall the happy nyampi. detra, (While of his abfence I compl.' ) Hid in her mazy, wanton bowel, My lord, my life, my conqueror. No, no, 'tis decreed The traitress sball bleed; No fear shall alarm, No pity difarm; In my rage shall be feen The revenge of a Queen. SCENE II. The Entry of the Bower. Sir TRUSTY, Knight of the Bower, folus. How happy is be, That is ty'd to a she, And fam'd for his wit and bis beauty! For of us pretty fellows Our wives are so jealous, They ne'er have enough of our duty. But hah! my limbs begin to quiver, Whence rises this convulsive strife? I smell a shrew ! My fears are true, I fee my wife. SCENE SCENE III. GRIDELINE and Sir TRUSTY. GRIDELINE. Faithless varlet, art thou there? Sir TRUSTY. My love, my dove, my charming fair! GRIDELINE. Monster, thy wheedling tricks I know. Sir TRUSTY. Why wilt thou call thy turtle fo ? GRIDELINE. Cheat me not with false caresses. Sir TRUSTY. Let me stop thy mouth with kisses. GRIDELINE. Those to fair Rosamond are due. Sir TRUSTY. She is not half so fair as you. GRIDELINE. She views thee with a lover's eye. SirTRUSTY I'll be thine, and let her die. GRIDELINE. No, no, 'tis plain. Thy frauds I see, |