Selected quad for the lemma: law_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A37158
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Circe a tragedy as it is acted at His Royal Highness the Duke of York's Theatre / by Charles D'Avenant ...
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Davenant, Charles, 1656-1714.
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1677
(1677)
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Wing D302; ESTC R8025
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34,614
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66
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should recover that lost Sister here Heav'n has pronounc'd that she must be your Bride Fate has the sacred Knot already ty'd Py. No no my heart is from my Bosom flown And I am false to you and friendship grown Our Eyes at last to perfect my defeat With trembling pleasure and confusion meet Her lovely paleness hasty blushes dy'd And she with haste those blushes strove to hide But suddain grief benighted soon her Eyes I trembled to behold the Tempest rise She wept and pointed to the Temple Door She shew'd her hands all stain'd with humane Gore As if she meant I should that Temple flie At whose sad Altar wretched Strangers die Orest I that last action saw and did advance To wake your senses from so deep a Trance I saw the Priestess and her fatal view Did Clytemnestra to my mind renew I did with wonder in her lovely Face The well known features of my Mother trace I then reflected on my former guilt And on the Blood my impious rage had spilt Py. In peace your Mother in her Urn does rest A horrid Musick in the Air. Let not her memory disturb your Breast Sung by Furies I. THis impious Breast you Furies fill With all that Hell of horror does contain Gnaw Gnaw his Heart you Scorpions still But from himself he feels the sharpest pain But from himself he feels the sharpest pain II. For any other humane Crime Tears and Repentance may Oblations be But nothing shall atone for him The damn'd may sooner pardon find than he The damn'd may sooner pardon find than he Orest Hark Pylades me every Fiend of Hell With my black Paricide reproaches still See the Adulterer Aegisthus there And my unhappy Mother's forms appear Pyl. I fear his mind inflam'd by active Thought Is to its former Rage and Fever wrought Orest Oh can there be no expiation made What have I offer'd to appease thy shade Mother and piteous Heaven forget my crime Or you 'le more cruel than Orestes seem Tie up your Scorpions you Eumenides Whom I 'le with bloud of pregnant Ewes appease Pyl. You entertain your self with shapeless Air Nor have you any guilt but this Despair Ores Bankrupt is man unless kind Heav'n will take Repentance all the payment we can make The Heav'ns open Iris appears on the Rainbow and sings SONG I. CEase valiant Hero cease to grieve The Gods thy Pray'rs and Penitence receive You cannot sin so fast as they forgive II. All the attempts of Hell are vain O're that and grief you shall the conquest gain A Pardon your unwilling Crimes obtain III. You Spirits made of Air refin'd With pleasing objects cheer his clouded mind No footsteps leave of former guilt behind A Dance of the Winds Ores My thoughts are become calm and quiet now As first they were e're I to guilt did bow Pyl. Try by soft slumbers to delude your care What pleasant sounds are these which bless the air A pleasant Symphony They sweeter to my ravish't Sense appear Than yielding Whispers to a Lovers ear Orestes and Pylades seat themselves on a Rock Syrens rise out of the Sea and sing SONG I. AH how happy are we Who from bus'ness that graver folly are free Let us Love though the sober should blame us A curse on the Wise They need not advise Age makes too much haste to reclaim us II. Let us carelesly move In the riots of Wit and follies of Love Our age does to pleasure invite us But when we are old And our Blood growes cold Not Art nor Fifteen can incite us Syrens descend and leave them asleep as inchanted Scene Second Enter Circe Spirits appear Cir. You have outdone my wish but to your care One thing remains then you are free as Air. The King grows wicked and does now begin But faintly to resist th' invading sin Assist his tottering Vertue to o'rethrow He must with greater haste be wicked now Bait your temptations with all cunning Arts Which Lust insinuates when it poysons Hearts Our Priestess he must ravish that black crime Serves my designs to ruine her and him One stain'd with Lust my Son must needs despise Then he may yield to fair Osmida's Eyes Spir. Such poyson to his Vertue shall be given That it shall ev'n be past the Cure of Heaven Cir. Diana We have now thy Victim here Looking on the Strangers How goodly and Majestick they appear Two Godheads in that Face their Revels keep The God of Love and peaceful God of Sleep Both in their gayest Robes He 's manly as the Worlds first Hero's were E're Nature was debauch'd by vice or care His Eyes shut up a kindly Spring appear Foretelling pleasures in the opening year Oh how I burn he must have conquering eyes Who in neglectful sleep can thus surprize Ye Gods If in this warlike shape I find A daring courage and an active mind One that had rather Mighty be than Just He may supply my Anger and my Lust I 'm of my Pageant Monarch weary grown He fils my Bed as idly as the Throne Scene Third Enter Thoas Iphigenia Guards who bind and disarm the Strangers My dearest Lord behold the Strangers here Seeing the King Inchanted lie and we no more shall fear It seems that they unseen amongst the crowd This day with us to great Diana bow'd Since from the Temple they are hither brought And in the Fetters of my Magick caught Iph. As I this day the holy Rites perform'd A Youth with strange success my bosom storm'd His Image busie in my Heart I feel Guard him you Angels from their cruel zeal Tho. These Strangers like dark clouds hang o're our Fate Which to be safe we now must dissipate Circe we must resolve that one of these Shall by his fall the angry Gods appease Iph. I 'll see no more let Death benight my Eye Seeing Pyl. bound There there the Noble Youth inchanted lies Why would he in this fatal Country stay My tears and sighs did bid him haste away Wake wake unhappy Strangers who are lost On this unhospitable cruel Coast You must no more your freedom hope to have Than they who are Deaths prisoners in the Grave Still one of those who touch our barbarous shore We offer to the Goddess we adore Ores Surpris'd and bound come to the Altar lead You do but what Heavens justice has decreed Tho. I 'm forc'd by Custom that unwritten Law By which the People keep even Kings in awe To give this doom for which you calmly wait To dy's the easiest action of the Great Pyl. Thy Scepter Prince extends not to this place The shore is common to all humane Race We 're Princes too above all Laws but those Which Heav'n and Nature's silent Pow'rs impose Tho. 'T is by her Laws you are my Captives now For Natures Laws do all to force allow Cir. Kings must not argue what is right or wrong Such little Scruples to the Gown belong Tho. This beauteous Maid is Mistress of your Fate From her