As o'er the hollow vaults we walk*,

A hundred echos round us talk:

From bill to bill the voice is toft,

Rocks rebounding,

Caves refounding,

Not a fingle word is loft,

PAGE.

There gentle Rofamond immured

Lives from the world and you fecured.

QUEEN.

Curfe on the name! I faint, I die,

With fecret pangs of jealoufy.

PAGE.

There does the penfive beauty mourn,
And languish for her Lord's return.

QUEEN.

[Afide.

* Alluding to the famous echo in Woodstock-Park.

My

My wrath, like that of heav'n, shall rise,
And blaft her in her paradife.

PAGE.

Bebold on yonder rifing ground
The bower, that wanders

In meanders,

Ever bending,

Never ending,

Glades on glades,

Shades in fhades,

Running an eternal round.

QUEEN.

In fuch an endless maze I rove,

Loft in labyrinths of love.

My breaft with hoarded vengeance burns,

While fear and rage

With hope engage,

And rule my wav'rng soul by turns.

PAGE.

The path yon verdant field divides,

Which to the foft confinement guides.

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 fhall die, fhe fhall die.

I feel, I feel my heart relent:
How could the fair be innocent!

To a monarch like mine,
Who would not refign!
One fo great and fo brave

All bearts must enslave.

PAGE.

Hark, hark! what found invades my ear?
The conqueror's approach I hear.

He comes, victorious Henry comes!
Hautboys, trumpets, fifes and drums,
In dreadful concert join'd,
Send from afar

Here fhall the happy nymph detain,
(While of his abfence I complain)

Hid in her mazy, wanton bower,
My lord, my life, my conqueror.
No, no, 'tis decreed

The traitress fall bleed;
No fear fball alarm,
No pity difarm;

In my rage fhall be feen

The revenge of a Queen.

SCENE II..

The Entry of the Bower:

Sir TRUSTY, Knight of the Bower, folus.

How happy is he,

That is ty'd to a fhe,

And fam'd for his wit and his beauty!

For of us pretty fellows

Our wives are fojealous,

They ne'er have enough of our duty, But hah! my limbs begin to quiver, I.glow, I burn, I freeze, I fhiver; Whence rifes this convulfive ftrife?

I smell a fhrew!

My fears are true,
I fee my wife.

B 6.

SCENE

SCENE III.

GRIDELINE and Sir TRUSTY.

GRIDELINE.

Faithlefs varlet, art thou there?

Sir TRUST Y.

My love, my dove, my charming fair!

GRIDELINE.

Monfter, thy wheedling tricks I know.

Sir TRUSTY.

Why wilt thou call thy turtle fo?

GRIDELINE.

Cheat not me with false careffes

Sir TRUSTY.

Let me ftop thy mouth with kiffes.

GRIDELINE.

Thofe to fair Rofamond are due.

Sir TRUSTY.

She is not half fo fair as you.

GRIDELINE.

She views thee with a lover's eye.

Sir TRUSTY.

I'll still be thine, and let her die.

GRIDELINE.

No, no, 'tis plain. Thy frauds I fee,

Traitor to thy King and me!

a