University of Virginia Library

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.