University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

The Palace.
Enter Phraartes and Monobazus.
Monob.
Things of more wonder never fill'd my Eye.

Phraar.
Nor ever mine a prettier Novelty.

Monob.
Novelty!

Phraar.
Why? must I astonisht prove,
To see by Moon-light a few Shadows move?

Mon.
No, Sir: but these no common Shadows are.

Phra.
And that's the only cause you think them rare.
Were Thunder, Lightning, an Eclipse o'th'Sun,
And all the feats by light and shadow done,
But once or twice in several Ages shewn,
Mankind would all of 'em for wonders own.
Think Gods appear'd, and fall upon the knee,
Each time, perhaps, they did a Rain-bow see.

Mon.
Nature frames those, these Nature's works surpass.

Phra.
Why more than Shadows in a Looking-glass?
At first, no doubt, they did Mankind surprise,
And they were judg'd stupendious Prodigies.
There are strange Births peculiar to each Clime,
Monsters are bred out of Ægyptian slime.
These may be Natives of the Jewish air,
Bred of the Fumes of Sacrifice and Prayer.

Mon.
Yes, did they slaughter men, we might presume
Their Souls might for revenge those shapes assume:
But the poor Beast does perish in the flame,
And has no Soul to play an after-game.

Phra.
But may not Atoms meet which Flames disperse?
Revelling Atoms made the Universe.
Or may not num'rous Heaps of Victims slain,
Dislodge the transmigrated Souls of men?
Which stript of the warm flesh they love to wear,
Get for the present some thin Rags of air?
Or rather, spight of all our wisdom knows,
These may be real men, we shapes suppose?
For all these spacious Regions of the Skye,
Can never waste like Lybian Desarts lye?
Nature frames nothing for a vain intent,
And no doubt Peoples every Element.
The Sea has Mermaids, and the purer Air
May Nimphs of a more fine complexion bear;
And these were jolly Youths, who in our sight
Might celebrate some Festival to night:
For round the aiery Plains their Chariots drove,
As if they kept Olympian Games above.

Mon.
All this is raillery; for if a throng
Of wandring Tribes had there been planted long,
The busie people of our Globe below
Had found, perhaps had conquer'd 'em e're now.
No, they are Bubbles and have no abode,
And only speak the greatness of that God
Who guards this State, and do so strange appear,
I would my own weak little God casheer,
And this more mighty Jewish one adore,
But when I once have offered to a Power,
To him, as to my King, I loyal prove,
Or to the Friend or Mistress that I love.

Phra.
And I to these so little credit give,
I scorn a God that by his Tricks must live.
I from all Shadows set my Vassals free,
And plainly bid 'em fear no Power but me.
But ha! kind fortune to my arms does flye,
Th'accesses to the Gardens open lye,
Where oft Clarona on the Gods bestows
The Hours design'd by Nature for repose.
Some happiness is near, my heart forebodes,
I'le in and chace away my Rival Gods.

[Exit.
Mon.
Oh! that my Rivals were as weak as they;
The great the brave Vespasian bars my way.
Glory and Empire are to Female blood
More tempting dang'rous Rivals than a God.

[Exit.
[The Scene changes to a Garden, Clarona asleep,
Enter Phraartes.
Phra.
Oh! whither Love hast thou thy wand'rer led?
My feet profane the ground on which they tread.
All the abstracted sweets in Nature found,
Lye here together in a slumber bound.
No Mortal can resist the charming bliss;
This hand does ravish from my lips a Kiss.

[Clarona wakes.
Clar.
Save me, good Spirits! what Shade is that so nigh?

[Starts at the sight of Phraartes.
Phra.
No Ghost, or Shadow, but substantial I.

Clar.
The King!

Phra.
Your Slave; may I your pardon gain,
That I your sacred privacy profane?
Wandring in solitude the Gardens round,
I all accesses hither open found.
Coming to sigh away the hours of night
Under your window;—by the Moon's pale light,
Who o're your Face her Silver Garment spread,
I found you slumbring on this Rosie Bed.
It was impossible from hence to go,
With wonder fixt to Earth, I here might grow,
My Root wou'd wantonly beneath you creep,
To suck the sweets of earth on which you sleep.
This I might do, shou'd I here longer stay,
Yet then as easily be torn away.

Clar.
On the Night's wonders gazing all alone,
Weary and pensive here I sate me down,
And to a gentle sleep resign'd my sense,
Not fearing this my Servants negligence.

Phra.
My Stars contriv'd it thus to crown my love,
And I their noble kindness will improve.
Now is the Golden Minute come at last,
The rich Extraction of a thousand past,
Which like the patient Chymist I have spent
In toil, and many a vain Experiment.
And (oh! my Stars!) if now I let it go,
Never this blessing on me more bestow.

Clar.
What does the King by this discourse design?

Phra.
Oh! Youth and Love will help you to divine.
What meaning did young Troylus display,
When to the Grecian Tents where Cresseid lay,
From Troy in such kind conspiring Night
And Hour as this, he stole to his delight?
What meant Leander, when at such an Hour
He labour'd through the Waves to Hero's Tower,
Whilst on the shore to ravish him she stood,
From the Embraces of the faithless flood?

Clar.
Are you the King?

Phra.
Exalted by such bliss,
I am God, and you my Paradise.
Where e're I wander pleasures crowd my way,
And I with every one a life cou'd stay.
Oh! I cou'd dwell an Age upon this Hand;
But shou'd I to those Cheeks or Lips ascend,
Such numerous delights my senses court,
To gather all, Eternity's too short.

Clar.
What has this change in King Phraartes made?
Will he my Ears with such discourse invade?
He who approacht me with so great an awe,
Priests with less reverence near Altars draw;
That any thing was sacred did deny,
On Earth, in Nature, or in Heaven, but I?
What have I done that has my Honour stain'd,
And made me now deserve to be profan'd?

Phra.
Can any Temples be profan'd by Prayer,
Or Altars by the Victims which they bear?

Clar.
By Victims sinful and impure they may:
And only such you at my Altars lay.

Phra.
You wrong my innocent and spotless love.

Clar.
Convince me of it, and from hence remove
Him who my ruine did attempt to night,
I mean your self, for ever from my sight.

Phra.
From their Foundations bid me Mountains tear,
Or hale a fixed Star out of his Sphere,
Remove the world, assoon I could obey,
As take my self from hence, whilst here you stay.
This is my Heav'n, which I with toil attain,
And shall I now leap down to Earth again?
My arms for safety I around you spread,
Throw me from this high happiness I'm dead.

Clar.
You on a Precipice wou'd safely dwell,
But you wou'd strive to throw me down to Hell.
You for my ruine are by Hell design'd,
And chosen for it out of all Mankind.
As having all their excellence and more,
By whom he thousands had subdu'd before:
The Serpent in your Figure (I believe)
Stole into Paradise and ruin'd Eve:
With such a pleasing Tongue he spoke his suit,
And with such Hands bestow'd the fatal Fruit.
That to put all his Troops at once to flight,
I must for ever banish you my sight.

Phra.
Hell and his Troops into destruction go,
My love of their designs does nothing know:
My love's intentions generous have been;
But if for you to love again be sin,
Be sav'd, pursue the Joys you call divine;
Attain your Heav'n, though I despair of mine.
But pray let me be sav'd a little too,
The Heav'n I cannot compass, let me view.

Clar.
No, Sir, in pity I deny your Prayer,
Why shou'd I keep you in a scorching air,
When I no ease or pleasure can bestow?
If to a cooler Clime you will not go,
The Sun whose heat does your Diseases breed,
Tan your fair Vertues, and your Torments feed,
Thus, Sir, I will for ever cloud from you;
This I am bound in Charity to do.

Phra.
Spare your compassion, and unvail'd remain,
I am your Enemy and beg for pain.
Let not so great a Sinner torment want.

Clar.
Beg nothing of me, for I'le nothing grant.

Phra.
What not to see you! are those Beauties made
To pine and wither in a barren shade?

Clar.
Ask me no more, I will no more reply.—

Phra.
And will you then one parting view deny?—
Sun rise no more, for ever quench thy light,
For now the world has nothing worth our sight.

[Ex.