VALENTINIAN; A TRAGEDY: ACT 3, SELECTION by JOHN WILMOT

@3Lucina Wakes.@1
@3Claudia@1 But see my Lady wakes and comes this way.
Bless me! how pale and how confus'd she looks!
@3Lucina@1 In what Fantastique new world have I been?
What Horrors past? What threatning Visions seen?
Wrapt as I lay in my amazing Trance,
The Host of Heav'n and Hell did round me Dance:
Debates arose betwixt the Pow'rs above
And those below: Methoughts they talkt of Love.
And nam'd me often; but it could not be
Of any Love that had to do with me.
For all the while they talk'd and argu'd thus,
I never heard one word of @3Maximus.@1
Discourteous Nymphs! who own these Murmuring Floods
And you unkind Divinities o'th' Woods!
When to your Banks and Bowers I came distrest
Half dead throu' Absence seeking Peace and Rest.
Why would you not protect by these your Streams
A sleeping wretch from such wild dismal Dreams!
Mishapen Monsters round in Measures went
Horrid in Form with Gestures insolent;
Grinning throu Goatish Beards with half clos'd Eyes,
They look'd me in the face frighted to rise!
In vain I did attempt, methought no Ground
Was to support my sinking Footsteps! found
In clammy Fogs like one half choak'd I lay,
Crying for help my Voyce was snatch'd away.
And when I would have fled,
My Limbs benumm'd, or dead
Could not my Will with Terror wing'd obey.
Upon my Absent Lord for help I cry'd
But in that Moment when I must have dy'd:
With Anguish of my Fears confusing pains
Relenting Sleep loos'd his Tyrannick Chains.
@3Claud.@1 Madam, Alas such Accidents as these
Are not of value to disturb your Peace!
The cold damp-Dews of Night have mixt and wrought
With the dark Melancholy of your Thought.
And throu' your Fancy these Illusions brought.
I still have markt your Fondness will afford
No hour of Joy in th' absence of my Lord.

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