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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A67305 Victorious love a tragedy, as it is acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drewry-Lane / written by Mr. William Walker. Walker, William, d. 1726. 1698 (1698) Wing W455; ESTC R9390 29,066 53

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God Make ev'n these hands the Ministers of Death Give me a Sword be you too arm'd for Love Zaraida shall like Vict'ry doubtful hang And to the Man who most deserves her fall Oh glorious cause Worthy such Swords as ours The Day seems mark'd by fate for such a War The expecting Gods to their last limits come Deeply concern'd for Souls so like their own 'T were not good manners to delay the sport When such spectators wait come bring the Swords And let the Royal Fight begin Emp. 'T is an unequal Game I set my Crown To nought sure you forget you 're Pris'ner here A Bankrupt both in honour and Estate 'T is not for you who at my Mercy breath To hope so brave a Death as from this Arm I scorn to lift my Sword against my Slave Bar. If I 'm a Slave you could not make me one Emp. Under my Auspices my Soldiers fought They servilely perform'd what I inspir'd Bar. Excuses ne're are wanting when the will is gone Thus Cowards always Reason wrest Emp. Were I that thing what hinder'd me t o've forc'd This Lady long e're this and Murder'd you Bar. Because thou art that thing for tho 't were base Yet there 's a boldness in it thou 'rt a Stranger to Emp. The World shall find I am not base to Heav'n Who best decides this cause refer the Priest Shall in my Court inquire it's will while we Expect to whom just Heav'n this Fair will give Mean time free access I allow to both Zanhaga bid the Priest his Gods prepare That hint's enough this seeming Piety Aside Secures their hearts whom pity might mislead My General too who loves this Prince must yield to Heaven Exit Zar. If Heav'n be Heav'n we shall be happy yet Bar. We will be happy or in Life or Death Exit cum Zar. Manet Zanhaga Solus Yes he shall Solve your Doubts the Priest shall give Zaraida to your Arms but you shall n'ere Enjoy that Gift Gualata and your self Stand in my way My Son 's my Darling's Death Shan't long be Unreveng'd True I was fir'd By my Ambition to attempt a Crown before But now Revenge too eggs me on his blood Shall be the Oyl to whet my blunted hopes I 'll soon prepare the Priest to serve the King His Parrot-Gods shall speak but what I Teach And my own Thoughts his Pratling Daemons Preach Exit Finis Actus Secundi ACT III. SCENE I. SCENE the Priests Apartment Enter the Emperour Em. THus far has Love unbounded hurry'd me The rapid Flood breaks through opposing Dams Bears down each Fence that dares dispute its way All Disappointments but increase its force Each blow new Vigour gives each fall Infuses fresh Recruits to ev'ry part Tenacious of his hold he hugs me close Whilst smother'd honour struggles but in vain Shall I be forc'd to mortifie my flame Because some servile Priests has joyn'd their hands What tho her folly too unites their hearts My Priest shall streight untye this Mystick Knot And make ev'n Heav'n repeal its former Act. What ho within there Marabou come forth And ease a Monarch's Breast Enter Priest Zanhaga c. Zan. You have your Cue be faithful to your Trust And your Reward shall far exceed desire Em. Behold you who the Heavenly secret know Behold me both a Monarch and a Slave I to whose Nod all Africa submit Can stoop to kneel at a weak Womans feet She tho' a Captive scorns to look on me My very Crown 's a Bawble in her eyes Too poor to play with whilst the Captive Prince Tho' robb'd of all his Glories gluts in Joys Which but to tast my self would be Dethron'd And I had pluck'd ere this th' unwilling Rose But some remaining dregs of honour hinder'd me This is the Plague torments your Monarch's Soul Now see if Hell or Heav'n afford a Cure Here the Emperour sits while the Priest begins the Incantation ARise ye Fiends of Hell arise You who for freedom groan Who long lost Earth bemoan Come with fresh Objects feed your eyes You who for Sins on Earth are bound To Swim in Coldest Streams Still dying never Dead are found Come warm you by my Flames I 'll Chafe you till you 'r happy too I 'll Thaw your Blood if it Congeale I 'll mend your blue and bleaky hue Your skin tho chopp'd and scarr'd I 'll heale The cutting Winds that Whistling blow From dazling Mountains of driv'n Snow Shall cease their Orders to obey If you 'll prepare and come away Chorus of Priests Come to our Monarch give Advice Arise ye Fiends of Hell arise Four Infernal Spirits Arise all in White and Sing WE come we come Great Marabou We watch thy pleasing Call Our stiff'ned Joynts are supple now You warm the coldest Hell 1st Male Spirit If Love disturb this Monarch's Breast 'T is fit he should enjoy What e're can please th' unruly Guest And force her if she fly 1st Female Gualata Dead she 'll yield of course Dull Lovers we despise She but expects the pleasing force To give down all her Joys My Lover was for Piety Conscience and Lov'd wag'd Wars His coldness Damn'd himself and me Or we had both been Stars 2d Male Behold me once a Mortal Wight In an Old Beldain's Arms For Love of Gold I drudg'd all Night And rose at all Alarms But yet 't was cold 't was coldly done Nor did it ought avail Then force the young the fair nor run The Risque to freeze in Hell 2d Female I to an Aged Fool did Charm Who only hugg'd me close My Maiden-head in Hell can't warm Nor Virtue-heat infuse Chorus of Infernals Then force the Fair nor longer crave But let Gualata die By this your self and her you 'll save From Winters Misery Chorus of Priests and Infernals For they who quench'd their am'rous flames Are Damn'd to Freeze in Coldest Streams Priest SINGS HEar you in Heav'ns blue Regions hear You who have once been Men And for your Virtues swim in Air To make my Phoebus train How happy you warm'd by his Beams Your Balls of Fire ye Guard Each Spirit guides his Orb of Flames Proud of his hot reward You who 've obey'd Almighty Love Inur'd to Amorous Wars For which in Flames you wanton rove Pleas'd with your Subject Stars You who prefix each Mortals Doom And know each Miscreants Fate Say will ye cut the Pris'ners Loom Or give a longer Da'e Chorus of Priests Come come relate The Captives Fate Or Life or Death Bring in a Breath If Love must yield And quit the Field Or Beauty Bend. Descend ye Lords of Air descend Descend in a Machine to proper Musick 4 Heav'nly Spirits All Sing YOur Crown 's not safe if he should Live The God's are unappeas'd His Blood 's our due in vain you strive With Blood alone we 're pleas'd Chorus of Coel. For you the Sun has sent her here Destroy the Prince and force the Fair. Say Hell Shall it be so Yes Wee 're for it