University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Babylon Besieged.
Enter Lysimachus and Ptolomy with drawn Swords.
Ptol.
Now, my brave Friend, both Love, and Honour calls,
Let us together run, to scale these Walls;
Let's thus for Honour, and for Love contend,
Till Death, or Conquest, shall our Quarrel end.
Thus our great Cause, may by the Sword be try'd,
And Fortune now our Rivalship decide.

Lysi.
No, Ptolomy, to that, Ile ne'r agree,
Fortune, shall never judge 'twixt you, and me;
Blindly, she does her Favours oft bestow,
Our Happiness, shall from our Merits flow:
So Parisatis, judgement best shall give,
Which of us two, shall die, and which shall live.

Pto.
Lysimachus, that way, does worse appear,
All we can do, can never merit her,
She, like the Gods, is mounted far above,
The reach, of all our merits, or our Love.
Then, let not her, that cruel judgement give,
One, to condemn, to make the other live,
She, of that doom must certainly repent,
Make Fortune judge, and keep her innocent.

Lysi.
You cannot place her, in your Thoughts, too high,
And I fall down to her Divinity,
She, like the Gods above, can never err,
All must be just, and good, that comes from her.

Ptol.
Think not, I poorly prize my life, above,
Or your high Friendship, or my own just love,
Yet since, but one of us can her obtain,
Let fortune judge, which of us shall be slain:
Condemn'd by Fortune, I shall die with joy,
But her Refusal doubly would destroy.

Lysi.
Refus'd by her, death will a pleasure grow,
But flatt'ring Hope, makes Death more cruel show,
'Twere just for him, whom she refus'd to die,

Pto.
That Justice then adds to his misery.

Lysi.
Whil'st Love, does either with some hope inspire,
Deaths cold embrace, unjustly we desire.

Pto.
If now I die, by yours, or my own hand,
I die, before I did my Love offend,
But once refus'd by her, I guilty grow,
For her refusal only, makes me so:
My Death, will then, to every one appear,
Not the effect of Love, but of despair.
If she accept me, I can know no Joy,
Since my good Fortune, must my Love destroy.

Lysi.
As great as yours, I dare pronounce my Flame,
Tho yours so 'unruly seems, and mine so tame,
The Gods, with greater Love, can none inspire,
Nor can your Breast, feel a more scorching Fire:
Yet Love, shall never make my Sword divide,
That knot of Friendship, which we two have ty'd.

Ptol.
Why should I, in suspence, one moment be,
When my own hand, holds my own destiny?
This Sword, can quickly finish, all our strife,
By cutting off my own, or your much dearer life.
Empire, our Friendships bounds, could not remove,
We parted stakes, but cann't do so, in Love:
Two Kings may friendly sit, upon one Throne,
But in Loves Empire, one must reign alone,
Since she, whom we adore, we cann't divide,
We with our swords, our quarrel must decide.
Let this the greatness, of my passion speak,
When, for my love, I must our friendship break.

Ly.
No, Ptolomy, this Sword shall ne'r offend
The man, whom I so long have call'd my friend;
And so much honour in thy soul does dwell,
Thy unresisting friend, thou dar'st not kill.

Ptol.
Lay by that Name, for in it lies a charm,
Which does my Soul, of all its rage disarm,
My blood grows stiff, and cold; that sacred Name,
Strives to extinguish my unruly flame,
But that Charm, by a greater I'le remove,
My Friendship must, and shall give way to Love.
My life, I for my friend, would sacrifice,
But for my Love, that Friend I must despise.
Defend thy self—

Lysi.
Since Friendship's sacred name, so weak does prove,
Here wound her Image, whom we both do love,
That beauteous Image, to us both so dear,
Will deeply graven in my heart appear;
Strike home, and to our quarrel put an end,
Dispatch at once your Rival, and your Friend.

Whilst Ptolomy stands in a fighting posture, with his Swords point towards the breast of Lysimachus, who spreads open his arms.
Enter Orontes and Araxis.
Oron.
Is this a time, for friends to disagree?
With joy our Souldiers, for th' Assault prepare,
But wonder much, where their brave Leaders are.
Me-thinks that Love, which your two Souls inspires,
Should quicken, and add wings, to your desires;
'Tis just, we first, our Princesses redeem,
Before we offer, to dispute for them.
Remember, Sirs, these Walls our Loves inclose,
Remember, they are Pris'ners, to our Foes.
Embrace, embrace, and let us hast away,
Our Souldiers, in their arms, do for us stay;
Each minute now, seems a long age to me,
Till we have set the fair Statyra free.

Ptol.
'Tis true, Orontes, to my self I seem,
Like those who sleeping walk, and talking dream.
My 'unquiet passions now are grown so strong,
Against my will, they hurry me along;
I act, what sense, nor reason, can't approve,
And unprovok'd would kill the Friend I love;
'Gainst my own heart, I all my forces bend,
And e're I gain my Mistress, lose my Friend;
Pity me then, when forc'd by cruel Fate,
I do those things, which tho I do, I hate.

Ly.
Come, Ptolomy, let's set our Princess free,
Let us like Friends, in that just Act agree,
And then the Combat, for which you now sue,
I'le force my friendship, to require of you.

Ptol.
I'le yield to that, 'tis but a just delay,
Orontes, now to danger, lead the way.

Oron.
What various shapes, does mighty love put on!
How different, to us, seems his power to be!
Here dark as night, there brighter than the Sun;
Here a Calm deep, there a rough raging sea,
In every breast, he hath a different sway,
Whilst the whole world, does his great power obey.

Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Palace within Babylon.
Enter Queen Statira, Parisatis, and Cleone.
Sta.
Ye Gods of Persia, and thou chief, the Sun,
What crimes have we, or our Forefathers, done,
That ye thus load, with misery and disgrace,
The small remains, of great Darius Race?
O happy Swains! who innocently free,
The pains of greatness, at a distance see:
Ye gaze at us, and happy call our State,
And oft do envy, what we most do hate.

Par.
Sister, since nothing can dark Fate withstand,
For Fate, doth ev'n the Gods themselves command,
To its decree, they do themselves submit,
Which shows their Godheads, have less power, than it.
If then our ruine be decreed, why shou'd
We mourn for that, which cannot be withstood?
But since, Man cannot in Fates black Book read,
And that we know not, what is fore-decreed,
Hope, like a glimmering Star, in night, does rise,
And gives some comfort, in our miseries.
Our Friends without, may yet successful prove,
Valour does wonders, when inspir'd by love.

Stat.
Ah! Parisatis, 'tis not death I fear,
Honour, than life, to me, is far more dear;
To you, I may confess, without offence,
I next to Honour, prize the Scythian Prince,
Whose noble Acts, my Heart, long since, did move,
E're I did yield, to Alexander's love.
For his sake, then, I am oblig'd to live,
Since he, from me, does all his joys receive.
But when, I think, what dangers him surround,
A thousand fears, my much griev'd soul, do wound,
Such is his love, such his respect, for me,
I know, he'l either die, or set me free.

Pari.
That fear is just, which does your soul subdue,
But have not I the same concern for two?
Two noble Friends, whose virtues I approve,
As once in War, so Rivals, now, in Love.
Your troubles, Sister, less than mine appear,
You but for one, but I, for two do fear.

Stat.
Weak are those streams, which in two channels run,
The deep, and violent, always flow in one.
You both their virtues, may perhaps approve,
May both respect, and yet but one may love.
Reason, in love, we take not for our guide,
Whilst things are, by magnetick Nature, try'd:
For whilst you equally, their virtues prize,
Your Soul with one alone, does sympathize.

Pari.
So great, is their united friendship grown,
They are no longer counted two, but one.
One Mind, one Will, to them Heav'n seems to give,
And but one Soul, does in both Bodies live:
And this one Soul, in both, breeds one desire,
And burns in one, and the same, amorous fire:
So I, in loving both, do love but one.

Stat.
Sister, the love, you speak of, you will find,
But like a flash of Lightning, in your mind.
The end, of virtuous love, is to enjoy,
But yours, unnatural, must that end destroy:
Though you, love both alike, yet you'd be loth
We should believe, you would enjoy them both.

Pari.
But, Sister, if I can enjoy but one,
The Gods, not I, shall make that choice alone.
I hold, the equal Ballance in my hand,
Where, both their loves, and virtues, equal stand.
If then, I should my self, on one bestow,
I should be most unjust, and partial grow.

Stat.
Strange is your love, fantastick is their fate,
For you destroy, that happiness, you create:
If happy, in your love, they seem to be,
Your equal mind, destroys their vain felicity.

Enter Perdicas.
Perd.
The Trumpets, Madam, me to danger call,
Our valiant Foes, begin to scale the Wall,
Nothing it seems, their courage can affright,
Nor the Moats depth, nor the Walls dreadful height.
This desperate assault, does but declare,
It is the last Effort, of their despair.
But, e're I go, their fury to withstand,
Madam, I'm come, to know what you'l command.

Stat.
You, Perdicas, are too imperious grown,
And as you please, you now command the Throne,
For though, I was your Royal Master's Wife,
I must my Empire quit, to save my life.
You, and Roxana, now do all things sway,
You will not me, but I must you obey.

Perd.
Humbly, before your Feet, I prostrate fall,
I have no power—you my great Queen have all.
What I possess, to love I sacrifice,
And live by th' influence, of those beauteous eyes.
How oft, in vain, do I your pitty crave,
Your mercy beg, as humbly, as your Slave?
Did I not thus, with rev'rence you adore,
I should command, what I so oft implore.

Stat.
If I am Queen, as sure I ought to be,
You should obey my will, and set me free.
I with one word, could all your Foes subdue,
Were I not by Roxana held, and you.
For me, and for my liberty, they fight,
Whilst you detain me, and oppose my Right.
You urge your Love, but make it show like Hate;
For what has Love to do with tricks of State?
You sue to me, yet let Roxana sway,
Pretend to love, and yet can disobey.

Perd.
Madam, should I obey, I were undone,
You quickly would leave me, and Babylon.
This gentle force, my Love's constrain'd to choose,
Lest I should you, fair Queen, for ever loose.
My life is measur'd, only by your stay,
And death approaches, as you go away.
If with the proud Roxana, I comply,
It is to shield you, from her cruelty.

Pari.
To Love, and Duty, badly he pretends,
Who does his Queen restrain, and fights her Friends.

Stat.
Indeed our Int'rests, do but badly close,
When those I call my Friends, he counts his Foes.

Perd.
Those you call Friends, indeed, I would subdue,
But fight them not, because they're Friends to you;
They'd pluck you from my Arms, and with you all
That I can good, or dear, or happy call.
I should of Love, but evil Symptoms show,
Should I submit, and tamely let you go:
He that would have you, must my Life pursue,
And by my death alone, must purchase you.

Enter Souldier.
Sold.
Your presence, Sir, Cassander does desire,
Your Souldiers beaten, from the Walls retire:
The Enemy hath such bold fury shown,
The like till now, I think was never known.
They rear their scaling Ladders, round the Wall,
Though Shot as thick as hail, upon them fall:
With Rams, and Slings, the Battlements they beat,
And force your men, with fire-balls, to retreat.
Up their tall Ladders, in thick swarms they fly,
And with their warlike shouts, they rend the sky.

Perd.
Let them mount up, and let them enter in,
We'ave men enough, to beat them forth ag'in.

Sold.
The Scythian Prince, his Shield over his head,
The way to Honour, and to danger led:
And spite of all resistance, that was made,
He gain'd the wall, and there alone he stay'd.
There fighting, like wild Boars, with wounds enrag'd,
I left Cassander, and that Prince engag'd.

Perd.
Madam, for your commands, I only stay.

Stat.
I'le not command—
But, if you will oblige me, as you say,
Spare those that fall, with in your power, to day.

Perd.
How much I love, my Actions shall declare,
When I the Life, of my lov'd Rival spare.

Exit with the Soldier.
Stat.
Ye Gods above, that generous Life defend,
Which Love alone, into such danger brings,
Let not his Fate, on our bad Fate depend,
Th'illustrious off-spring of so many Kings.
For, if you have decreed, that we shall dye,
Involve not him, in our sad Ruines too;
Grant him that peace, which you to us deny,
And us alone, with your fierce wrath pursue.

Pari.
The Gods are just, and justly all things sway,
Let's then to their just wills, our selves submit;
And without murmuring, their wills obey,
For they best know, what's for poor Mortals fit.
We our own Peace, and happiness destroy,
Whil'st we with fear, and grief, our selves annoy.

Stat.
Your wise, yet vain Philosophy, I hear,
Yet see, your smother'd troubles, in your eye;
That Heart is senceless, that is void, of Fear,
When, such a load of ills, does on it lye.
Let's to the Altars, of our Gods repair,
And force them, to be kind, with Incense, and with Prayer.

Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Royal Palace in Babylon.
Enter Roxana, and Hesione.
Rox.
This day, Hesione, I shall happy be,
If the Just Gods, make good their own Decree.

Hesi.
The Oracle, I do remember well,
Which, did long since, this famous Siege foretell,

Roxa.
Such pleasing words, can never be forgot,
For, in my memory, they are deeply wrot,
Thus spake, th' inspired Priest—
Such Favours, may the Gods, again, refuse,
If I, through Folly, should their Gifts abuse.
I'le willingly submit, to any Fate,
When I have satisfy'd, my Love, and Hate.

Hesi.
Madam, this Day, you shall have your desire,
You shall Orontes, and Statira see,
Below your Feet, waiting their Destinie.
But whil'st, you hold their Fates, in your own Hand,
You on a nice, and ticklish poynt do stand,
You have the power, but how to use it, there
Lyes all the Danger, and deserves your Care.

Roxa.
The Gods assist the Bold, whilst Cowards be
The Framers, of their own ill Destinie.

Hesi.
Your wisdom, Madam, mighty things has done,
That, won you Alexander's Heart, and Throne.

Roxa.
But yet, that wisdom never could remove
Cruel Orontes, from his fixed Love.

Hesi.
The Gods, at last, your pains will Recompence,
And put into your Hands, that Cruel Prince.

Roxa.
We must not leave, all for the Gods to do,
To Princes, they have giv'n some power too.
They shew the oportunity, and way,
But we, our selves, must act, as well as they.
Whilst Perdicas, that watchful Dragon's, gone,
And left my Rival, and his Care alone,
I'ave sent my Guards, to seize her, and when she
Is in my Power, then I shall happy be.

Enter Statira, Parisatis, and Cleone. Guard.
Stat.
It seems, Roxana, you will reigne alone,
In my great Fathers, and my Husbands Throne.

Roxa.
At your bad Fate, and at the Gods repine,
That Throne, indeed was theirs—but now is mine.

Stat.
Long since, in secret you have me betray'd,
But now, my Right, you openly invade.

Roxa.
My Power, will make my Right be understood,
By that our Husband, made his Title good.

Stat.
But if your Right, must by success be try'd,
The Gods, as yet, declare not on your side:
For, our brave Friends, who nobly take our part,
May yet our Right, with their success assert.

Roxa.
Let what will happen, you may understand,
You're Pris'ners, and your Fate I now command.

Stat.
I scorn, Roxana, for my Life, to sue,
I'de not accept it, as a Guift, from you.
Since, I'm your Rival, in your Throne, and Love,
There is some Reason, you should me remove.
But, let not my dear Sisters blood, be spilt,
Her Innocence, involve not with my Guilt.

Pari.
Till now, my Sister, you were ne'r unkind,
Thinke not to fly, and leave me here behind.
We both will dye, if Death be her intent.

Roxa.
Statira, yet may both your deaths prevent.
If she'll Orontes, and his Love disown,
She shall not only live, but share the Throne.

Stat.
Orontes is all virtue,
And all you offer, if compar'd to Him,
Below, that generous Prince's worth, does seem;
Than Life, or Crown, he is a greater prize,
And for his friendship, I do both despise.

Roxa.
With your own mouth, you have pronounc'd your fate,
Go pray—your lives have but a little date.
Secure them Guard—you in my pow'r are now,
I have resolv'd your death, and sworn it too.

Stat.
You cann't, Roxana, fright them with that doom,
Who, have before, the fear of death o'recome.

[Exeunt Statira, Parisatis, and Guard.
Enter Cassander wounded, Souldiers with Orontes bound.
Cass.
Madam, your strict commands, I have obey'd:
Love, more than other int'rest, can perswade.
By these, my numerous wounds, and loss of blood,
My faithful duty, may be understood.
Can I more proof, of my obedience give,
Than to permit, my greatest Foe, to live?

Roxa.
I do, Cassander, this great kindness own,
Which makes, the greatness, of your passion known.
Retire, and let your glorious wounds, be drest,
This service shall be written, in my breast.

Cass.
My Pris'ner, to your care, I here resign.

[Exit Cass.
Roxa.
I am his Pris'ner, more than he is mine.
[aside.
Soldiers retire, in the next Chamber stay.
[Exeunt Soldiers.
You look on me, Orontes, as your Foe,
Yet 'tis my kindness, which does life bestow.

Oron.
The life you gave me, you may take away,
That debt to you, I'm ready still to pay.

Roxa.
I did not give you life, with that intent,
And scorn, so soon, my kindness to repent.

Oron.
In giving life, you have no kindness shown,
But you, and all your kindness, I disown.

Roxa.
What greater proofs, of kindness, can I show,
Than still, to keep my heart, intire for you?
I love—Let me not name, that word again,
Gods! that a Queen should blush at your disdain.

Oron.
'Tis that unruly passion, in your breast,
Has robb'd my soul, of all its joy, and rest.

Roxa.
Can my kind love, disquiet your repose?

Oron.
You call that love, which more like hatred shows.

Roxa.
By that alone—
You may the greatness, of my passion see.

Oron.
By that, I know, you love your self, not me.
For, you would never seek, your own delight,
If your fierce soul, knew how to love aright.

Roxa.
It is that passion, which for you I have,
That makes of me, a pow'rful Queen, a Slave.
Repentance, is beneath me, I'le go on,
And end the work, I have so well begun,
And, if at last, you do my hopes destroy,
She, whom you love, you never shall enjoy.

Oron.
Such vicious love, I ever shall refuse.

Roxa.
Your life, and death, within my pow'r, does lye,
I'le make you love me, Prince, or you shall die.

Oron.
In vain, you think t'affright me, with my Fate,
Death is more welcome, than the thing I hate.

Roxa.
So much disdain, can be no longer born,
It has rous'd up, my anger, and my scorn.
Orontes, now, the diff'rence shall be seen,
Betwixt the love, and anger of a Queen.
Enter Guards.
Guards!—
Secure this Pris'oner, with your greatest care,
And on your lives, let none to him repair.
Load him with chains—
[Exeunt Guards and Orontes.
I soft, and gentle means, no more will try,
Orontes, and Statira both, shall dye:
The Gods, have put them, in my pow'r this day,
To let them 'scape, would my own cause, betray.
I'le love no more—His scorn has rais'd my hate,
Nor, with my passion, will I more debate:
Lest foolish love, should my Resolves oppose,
I'le kill 'um, while the Storm of anger blows.
Freedom, to me, his death, can give alone,
And hers, will fix me, steadfast in my Throne:
From diff'rent causes, both shall find one fate,
Love kills Orontes, and Statira hate.

[Exeunt.