Imperfect words and dubious terms exprefs
That unforeseen mifchance difturb'd his peace ;
That he muft fomething to her ear commend,
On which her conduct and his life depend.
Soon as the fair one had the note receiv'd,
The remnant of the day alone fhe griev'd;
For diff'rent this from ev'ry former note
Which Venus dictated and Henry wrofe;
Which told her all his future hopes were laid
On the dear bofom of his Nut-brown Maid;
Which alway's blefs'd her eyes and own'd her pow'r,
And bid her oft' adieu, yet added more.
225 Now night advanc'd : the house in fleep were laid, The nurfe experienc'd, and the prying maid; And, laft, that fprite which does inceffant haunt The lover's fteps, the ancient maiden aunt, To her dear Henry Emina wings her way, With quicken'd pace repairing forc'd delay: For love, fantastic pow'r that is afraid To ftir abroad till watchfulness be laid, Undaunted then o'er cliffs and vallies strays, And leads his vot'ries fafe thro' pathlefs ways. Not Argus with his hundred eyes fhall find Where Cupid goes, tho' he poor guide is blind. The maiden firft arriving, fent her eye To afk if yet its chief delight were nigh With fear and with defire, with joy and pain She fees, and runs to meet him on the plain; But, oh! his steps proclaim no lover's hafte; On the low ground his fix'd regards are caft ; His artful bofom heaves diffembled fighs, And tears fuborn'd fall copious from his eyes. With eafe, alas! we credit what we love; His painted grief does real forrow move In the afflicted fair: adown her cheek Trickling the genuine tears their current break? Attentive stood the mournful nymph; the man Broke filence firft; the tale alternate ran.
HEN. Sincere, O tell me, haft thou felt a pain, Emma, beyond what woman knows to feign?
Has thy uncertain bosom ever strove
With the first tumults of a real love?
Halt thou now dreaded and now bleft his sway,
By turns averfe and joyful to obey?
Thy virgin foftnefs halt thou e'er bewail'd,
As reafon yielded and as love prevail'd?
And wept the potent god's refiftlefs dart,
His killing pleasure, his ecstatic smart,
And heav'nly poifon thrilling thro' thy heart?
If fo, with pity view my wretched state,
At leaft deplore, and then forget my fate:
To fome more happy knight referve thy charms, 265
By Fortune favour'd and fuccessful arms;
And only as the fun's revolving ray
Brings back each year this melancholy day,
Permit one figh, and fet apart one tear
To an abandon'd exile's endless care.
For me, alas! outcast of human race,
Love's anger only waits and dire difgrace;
For, lo! thefe hands in murder are imbru'd,
Thefe trembling feet by Juftice are purfu'd;
Fate calls aloud, and haftens me away;
A shameful death attends my longer stay ;
And I this night must fly from thee and love,
Condemn'd in lonely woods a banish'd man to rove.
EMMA. What is our blifs that changeth with the
And day of life that darkens ere 'tis noon?
What is truc paffion, if unbleft it dies?
And where is Emma's joy if Henry flies?
If love, alas! be pain, the pain I bear
No thought can figure, and no tongue declare.
Ne'er faithful woman felt, nor falfe one feign'd, 285
The flames which long have in my bofom reign'd:
The god of love himself inhabits there,
With all his rage, and dread, and grief, and care,
His complement of tores and total war.
O! ceafe then coldly to fufpect my love,
And let my deed at least my faith approve.
Alas! no youth fhall my endearments share,
Nor day nor night fhall interrupt my care;
No future ftory fhall with truth upbraid
The cold indiff'rence of the Nut-brown Maid;
Nor to hard banishment fhall Henry run
While careless Emma fleeps on beds of down.
View me refolv'd where'er thou lead'ft to go,
Friend to thy pain, and partner of thy woe;
For I atteft fair Venus and her fon,
That I of all mankind will love but thee alone.
HEN. Let prudence yet obftruct thy vent'rous way,
And take good heed what men will think and fay;
That beauteous Emma vagrant courses took,
Her father's house and civil life forfook;
That full of youthful blood, and fond of man,
She to the woodland with an exile ran.
Reflect, that leffen'd fame is ne'er regain'd,
And virgin-honour once, is always ftain'd :
Timely advis'd, the coming evil shun;
Better not do the deed than weep it done:
No penance can abfolve our guilty fame,.
Nor tears, that wash out fin, can wash out fhame :
Then fly the fad effects of defp'rate love,
And leave a banish'd man thro' lonely woods to rove.
EMMA. Let Emma's hapless cafe be falfely told
By the rafh young or the ill-natur'd old;
Let ev'ry tongue its various cenfures chufe,
Abfolve with coldnefs, or with spite accuse;
Fair Truth at last her radiant beams will raife,
And Malice vanquish'd heightens Virtue's praife.
Let then thy favour but indulge my flight,
O! let my prefence make thy travels light,
And potent Venus fhall exalt my name
Above the rumours of cenforious Fame;
Nor from that bufy demon's restless pow'r
Will ever Emma other grace implore,
Than that this truth fhould to the world be known,
That I of all mankind have lov'd but thee alone. 329
HEN. But canft thou wield the sword and bend the
With active force repel the sturdy foe?
When the loud tumult fpeaks the battle nigh,
And winged deaths in whistling arrows fly,
Wilt thou, tho wounded, yet undaunted stay,
Perform thy part, and share the dang'rous day?
Then, as thy ftrength decays, thy heart will fail,
Thy
limbs all trembling, and thy cheeks all pale;
With fruitless forrow thou, inglorious Maid,
Wilt weep thy fafety by thy love betray'd;
Then to thy friend, by foes o'ercharg'd, deny
Thy little useless aid, and coward fly;
Then wilt thou curfe the chance that made thee love
A banish'd man, condemn'd in lonely woods to rove.
EMMA. With fatal certainty Thaleftris knew
To fend the arrow from the twanging yew:
And, great in arms, and foremost in the war,
Bonduca brandifh'd high the British fpear.
Could thirst of vengeance and defire of fame
Excite the female breaft with martial flame ?
And fhall not Love's diviner pow'r inspire
More hardy virtue and more gen'rous fire?
Near thee, miftruft not, conftant I'll abide,
And fall or vanquish, fighting by thy fide.
'Tho' my inferior ftrength may not allow
That I fhould bear or draw the warrior bow,
With ready hand I will the fhaft fupply,
And joy to fee thy victor arrows fly.
Touch'd in the battle by the hoftile reed,
Shouldst thou, (but Heav'n avert it!) fhouldst thou
To top the wounds my finett lawn I'd tear, [bleed,
Wash them with tears, and wipe them with my hair;
Bleft when my dangers and my toils have shown
That I, of all mankind, could love but thee alone.
HEN. But canft thou, tender Maid, canft thou fuftain
Afflictive want, or hunger's preffing pain?
Thofe limbs, in lawn and fofteft filk array'd,
From funbeams guarded, and of winds afraid,
Can they bear angry Jove? can they refift
The parching Dogftar and the bleak North-eaft?
When, chill'd by adverfe fnows and beating rain, 370
We tread with weary fteps the long fome plain;
When with hard toil we seek our ev'ning food,
Berries and acorns, from the neighb'ring woed,
And find among the cliffs no other house
But the thin covert of fome gather'd boughs,
Wilt thou not then reluctant fend thine eye
Around the dreary wafte, and weeping try
(Tho' then, las! that trial be too late)
To find thy father's hofpitable gate,
And feats where Eafe and Plenty brooding fate? 380 Thofe feats whence, long excluded, thou must mourn; That gate for ever barr'd to thy return;
Wilt thou not then bewail ill-fated love,
And hate a banish'd man, condemn'd in woods to rove?
EMMA. Thy rife of fortune did I only wed,
From its decline determin'd to recede;
Did I but purpose to embark with thee
On the fimooth furface of a fummer's fea,
While gente zephyrs play in profp'rous gales,
And Fortune's favour fills the fwelling fails,
But would forfake the ship and make the shore,
When the winds whistle and the tempefts roar?
No, Henry, no: one facred oath has ty'd
Our loves; one deftiny our life fhall guide;
Nor wild nor deep our common way divide.
When from the cave thou rifeft with the day To beat the woods and roufe the bounding prey, The cave with m fs and branches I'll adorn, And cheerful fit to wait my lord's return.
And when thou frequent bring'ft the fmitten deer, 400 (For feldom, archers fay, thy arrows err)
I'll fetch quick fuel from the neighb'ring wood,
And ftrike the fparkling flint, and drefs the food :
With humble duty and officious hafte
I'll cull the furthest mead for thy repast ;
The choiceft herbs I to thy board will bring,
And draw thy water from the fresheft fpring:
And when, at night, with weary toil oppreft,
Soft flumbers thou enjoy'ft and wholfome reft,
Watchful I'll guard thee, and with midnight pray'r 410
Weary the gods to keep thee in their care;
And joyous afk at morn's returning ray
If thou haft health, and I may bless the day.
VOL. II.
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