University of Virginia Library

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.