The Indian Queen

Act I
BOY
 * Wake, Quivera, wake, our soft rest must cease,
 * And fly together with our country's peace;
 * No more must we sleep under plantain's shade,
 * Which neither heat could pierce nor cold invade;
 * Where bounteous nature never feels decay,
 * And opening buds drive falling fruits away.

GIRL
 * Why should men quarrel here, where all possess
 * As much as they can hope for by success?
 * None can have most where nature is so kind
 * As to exceed man's use, though not his mind.

BOY
 * By ancient prophecy we have been told,
 * Our land shall be subdu'd by one more old;
 * And see that world already hither come.

GIRL, BOY
 * If these be they we welcome then our doom.

BOY
 * Their looks are such that mercy flows from hence,
 * More gentle than our native innocence;
 * By their protection let us beg to live:
 * They come not here to conquer, but forgive.

GIRL, BOY
 * If so your goodness may your power express,
 * And we shall judge both best by our success.

Act II
FAME AND CHORUS
 * I come to sing great Zempoalla's story
 * Whose beauteous sight so charming bright
 * Outshines the lustre of glory.
 * We come to sing great Zempoalla's story
 * Whose beauteous sight so charming bright
 * Outshines the lustre of glory.

ENVY AND TWO FOLLOWERS
 * What flattering noise is this,
 * At which my snakes all hiss?
 * I hate to see fond tongues advance
 * High as the Gods the slaves of chance.
 * What flattering noise is this,
 * At which my snakes all hiss?

FAME
 * Scorn'd Envy, here's nothing that thou canst blast:
 * Her glories are too bright to be o'ercast.

ENVY
 * I fly from the place where flattery reigns,
 * See, see those might things that before
 * Such slaves like gods did adore
 * Condemn'd and unpitied in chains.
 * I fly from the place where flattery reigns.
 * I hate to see fond tongues advance
 * High as the Gods the slaves of chance.
 * What flattering noise is this,
 * At which my snakes all hiss?

FAME
 * Begone, curst fiends of Hell,
 * Sink down, where noisome vapours dwell,
 * While I her triumph sound,
 * To fill the universe around.

FAME AND CHORUS
 * I come to sing great Zempoalla's story
 * Whose beauteous sight so charming bright
 * Outshines the lustre of glory.
 * We come to sing great Zempoalla's story
 * Whose beauteous sight so charming bright
 * Outshines the lustre of glory.

Act III
ISMERON
 * Ye twice ten hundred deities
 * To whom we daily sacrifice,
 * Ye pow'rs that dwell with fates below
 * And see what men are doom'd to do,
 * Where elements in discord dwell:
 * Thou god of sleep arise and tell
 * Great Zempoalla what strange fate
 * Must on her dismal vision wait.
 * By the croaking of the toad
 * In their caves that make abode,
 * Earthy dun that pants for breath
 * With her swell'd sides full of death,
 * By the crested adders' pride
 * That along the cliffs do glide,
 * By thy visage fierce and black,
 * By the death's head on thy back,
 * By the twisted serpents plac'd
 * For a girdle round thy waist,
 * By the hearts of gold that deck
 * Thy breast, thy shoulders and thy neck,
 * From thy sleeping mansion rise
 * And open thy unwilling eyes,
 * While bubbling springs their music keep,
 * That used to lull thee in thy sleep.

GOD OF DREAMS
 * Seek not to know what must not be reveal'd,
 * Joys only flow when hate is most conceal'd.
 * Too busy man would find his sorrows more
 * If future fortunes he should know before;
 * For by that knowledge of his destiny
 * He would not live at all but always die.
 * Enquire not then who shall from bonds be freed,
 * Who'tis shall wear a crown and who shall bleed.
 * All must submit to their appointed doom,
 * Fate and misfortune will too quickly come.
 * Let me no more with powerful charms be press'd
 * I am forbid by fate to tell the rest.

AERIAL SPIRITS
 * Ah, how happy are we!
 * From human passions free.
 * Ah, how happy are we!
 * Those wild tenants of the breast,
 * No, never can disturb our rest.
 * Ah, how happy are we!

Yet we pity tender souls
 * Whom the tyrant of love controls,
 * Ah, how happy are we,
 * From human passions free!

We the spirits of the air
 * That of human things take care,
 * Out of pity now descend
 * To forewarn what woes attend.

Greatness clogg'd with scorn decays,
 * With the slave no empire stays.
 * We the spirits of the air
 * That of human things take care,
 * Out of pity now descend
 * To forewarn what woes attend.
 * Cease to languish the in vain
 * Since never to be loved again.

We the spirits of the air
 * That of human things take care,
 * Out of pity now descend
 * To forewarn what woes attend.

SOPRANO SOLO
 * I attempt from love's sickness to fly in vain,
 * Since I am myself my own fever and pain.
 * No more now, fond heart, with pride no more swell;
 * Thou canst not raise forces enough to rebel.
 * I attempt from love's sickness to fly in vain,
 * Since I am myself my own fever and pain.
 * For love has more power and less mercy than fate,
 * To make us seek ruin and love those that hate.
 * I attempt from love's sickness to fly in vain,
 * Since I am myself my own fever and pain.

Act IV
ORAZIA
 * They tell us that your might powers above
 * Make perfect your joys and your blessings by love,
 * Ah! Why do you suffer the blessing that's there
 * To give a poor lover such a sad torments here?
 * Yet though for my passion such grief I endure,
 * My love shall like yours still be constant and pure.
 * To suffer for him gives an ease to my pains;
 * There's joy in my grief and there's freedom in chains.
 * If I were divine he cou'd love me no more,
 * And I in return my adorer adore,
 * O, let his dear life then, kind gods, be your care,
 * For I in your blessing have no other share.

Act V
CHORUS
 * While thus we bow before your shrine,
 * That you may hear great pow'rs divine,
 * All living things shall in your praises join.

HIGH PRIEST
 * You who at the altar stand
 * Waiting for the dread command
 * The fatal word shall soon be heard,
 * Answer then, is all prepared?

CHORUS
 * All's prepared.

HIGH PRIEST
 * Let all unallow'd souls begone
 * Before our sacred rites come on.
 * Take care that this be also done.

CHORUS
 * All is done.

HIGH PRIEST
 * Now in procession walk along
 * And then begin your solemn song.

CHORUS
 * All dismal sounds thus on these off'rings wait,
 * Your pow'r shown by their untimely fate;
 * While by such various fates we learn to know,
 * There's nothing, no, nothing to be trusted here below.