 | The Siege of Babylon |  |
The SCENE A Prison.
Enter Roxana.
Roxa.
I am affraid, the Lightning, of his eyes,
Will pierce my Breast, and my soft Heart, surprise.
How hard a thing, it is to break, love's Chain,
And not to think, that pleasure, which is pain.
But love, no longer, shall my Soul infest,
I with revengeful Rage, have arm'd my Breast.
Since, with disdain, he did my love deny,
I will the pleasure have, to make him die.
This is the Way—
The Scene opens, and discovers Orontes bound in Chains.
Speak now Orontes, e're it be too late,
Will you have life, with love, or Death, with Hate?
Your Fate, does now, depend on your own Breath,
In your own Choice, is either life, or Death.
Oron.
He were unworthy, of Statiras love,
Who would for fear, of Death, unconstant prove.
As, for her sake, I'de be content to live,
Draws a dagger out of her sleev.
So for her, willingly, I death receive.
Roxa.
Then Death I bring—Disdainful man: stand fair,
This, from thy Breast, Statira's Form shall tare.
Incens'd, I will a merciless Tyrant prove,
And Stab that Heart, will not admit my love.
I'le laugh, with joy, to see thy life expire,
And with thy Blood, I'le quench thy amorous fire.
Oron.
Strike boldly then—play well, the Tyrants part,
You'l find, an easie way, to my unguarded Heart.
Except my Queen, nothing that's here beneath,
Appears, so welcome, to me, now, as Death:
For since my Fate, does her I love deny,
advances with her Dagger.
With joy I fall, and with Content, I die.
Roxa.
Then thus, Orontes, I will end our strife,
This blow, shall cut my love off, and thy life.
What trembling's this, has seiz'd my Heart, and Arm?
There's magick in his Looks, in's Eyes a Charm.
[aside.
I find, I cannot my Intents pursue,
I feel, some kind of foolish pitty too.
I'ave thought on't now—It shall be soe—
Oron.
What now Roxana? Delay tortures me.
The Death you bring, to me, does pleasant seem,
'Twill wake me, from a sad, unquiet Dream:
It will give ease, to my afflicted mind,
And make me think, in this last Act, you'r Kind.
Roxa.
Nay, Sir, since you, unwilling are to live,
I will, to punish you, grant a Reprieve.
You shan't find pleasure, in that Death I bring,
Death, is not Death, unless it has a sting.
Some other way, I'le satisfie my hate,
Your Eyes, shall first behold, my Rivals Fate,
For since her Life, you, to your own, prefer,
Before thou dy'st I'le kill thee, first, in her.
[going out
Oron.
Stay, Tyrant stay, be not so inhumane,
Will you not kill, unless you kill, with pain?
If by my scorn, I merit your Revenge,
Act not your hatred, in a way so strange.
Kill the offender, do not spare his blood,
But murther not the Innocent, and good.
Roxa.
If she be good, she fitter is to die.
Oron.
And does no pitty in your Bosome lie?
Roxa.
Let pitty, and good Nature dwell elsewhere,
I have more strong, and violent Passions there.
Oron.
Can then no Prayers, your great wrath, asswage?
Roxa.
No more, than they can still, the Oceans Rage.
The great Concern, you for my Rival show,
Does but the more provoke, to speed the blow.
Oron.
To save her life, what is't I would not do?
Yet cann't perform, what is requir'd by you.
I cann't put out, loves great, and sacred fire,
The Gods can only quench, what they inspire.
Some other way propose—
Roxa.
In Vain, Orontes, now, to me you sue,
For I have learn't, how to deny, by you.
You say, I things impossible require,
And yet, the same, you now of me desire.
If to save her, you cann't your love subdue,
Hate's not less strong in me, than love in you.
That says, you must, to this Decree submit,
To see Statira slain, or her for ever quit,
Oron.
The choice is hard, Roxana—Let her live
And all thy Injuries, I will forgive.
My Hate of thee, I'le from my Breast remove,
And that is more, than half the way, to love.
Roxa.
To hear him thus intreat, I dare not stay,
My passion will, at last, it self betray.
[aside
I will no longer trifle thus, with you,
You know my will, and what you have to do.
Think on't—I but a little Time will give,
To make your choice, if she shall die, or live.
[Exit
Oron.
As men, in storms, a sinking Barque, to free,
Are forc'd to fling their wealth, into the Sea.
To save Statira's life, I now must quit,
My constant love, and the rich joys of it.
But Earth, as soon, may from it's Centre move,
As I can force my self, to leave my love.
Nor can I let her die—no, no, in vain
Roxana thinks, to keep me with this Chain,
No cruel Queen, from all thy Tyrannie,
And from these Chains, Death soon shall set me free.
The scene Closes
Enter Roxana.
Roxa.
I am affraid, the Lightning, of his eyes,
Will pierce my Breast, and my soft Heart, surprise.
How hard a thing, it is to break, love's Chain,
And not to think, that pleasure, which is pain.
But love, no longer, shall my Soul infest,
I with revengeful Rage, have arm'd my Breast.
Since, with disdain, he did my love deny,
I will the pleasure have, to make him die.
This is the Way—
The Scene opens, and discovers Orontes bound in Chains.
Speak now Orontes, e're it be too late,
Will you have life, with love, or Death, with Hate?
Your Fate, does now, depend on your own Breath,
In your own Choice, is either life, or Death.
Oron.
He were unworthy, of Statiras love,
Who would for fear, of Death, unconstant prove.
As, for her sake, I'de be content to live,
Draws a dagger out of her sleev.
So for her, willingly, I death receive.
Roxa.
Then Death I bring—Disdainful man: stand fair,
This, from thy Breast, Statira's Form shall tare.
Incens'd, I will a merciless Tyrant prove,
And Stab that Heart, will not admit my love.
I'le laugh, with joy, to see thy life expire,
And with thy Blood, I'le quench thy amorous fire.
19
Strike boldly then—play well, the Tyrants part,
You'l find, an easie way, to my unguarded Heart.
Except my Queen, nothing that's here beneath,
Appears, so welcome, to me, now, as Death:
For since my Fate, does her I love deny,
advances with her Dagger.
With joy I fall, and with Content, I die.
Roxa.
Then thus, Orontes, I will end our strife,
This blow, shall cut my love off, and thy life.
What trembling's this, has seiz'd my Heart, and Arm?
There's magick in his Looks, in's Eyes a Charm.
[aside.
I find, I cannot my Intents pursue,
I feel, some kind of foolish pitty too.
I'ave thought on't now—It shall be soe—
Oron.
What now Roxana? Delay tortures me.
The Death you bring, to me, does pleasant seem,
'Twill wake me, from a sad, unquiet Dream:
It will give ease, to my afflicted mind,
And make me think, in this last Act, you'r Kind.
Roxa.
Nay, Sir, since you, unwilling are to live,
I will, to punish you, grant a Reprieve.
You shan't find pleasure, in that Death I bring,
Death, is not Death, unless it has a sting.
Some other way, I'le satisfie my hate,
Your Eyes, shall first behold, my Rivals Fate,
For since her Life, you, to your own, prefer,
Before thou dy'st I'le kill thee, first, in her.
[going out
Oron.
Stay, Tyrant stay, be not so inhumane,
Will you not kill, unless you kill, with pain?
If by my scorn, I merit your Revenge,
Act not your hatred, in a way so strange.
Kill the offender, do not spare his blood,
But murther not the Innocent, and good.
Roxa.
If she be good, she fitter is to die.
Oron.
And does no pitty in your Bosome lie?
Roxa.
Let pitty, and good Nature dwell elsewhere,
I have more strong, and violent Passions there.
Oron.
Can then no Prayers, your great wrath, asswage?
Roxa.
No more, than they can still, the Oceans Rage.
The great Concern, you for my Rival show,
Does but the more provoke, to speed the blow.
20
To save her life, what is't I would not do?
Yet cann't perform, what is requir'd by you.
I cann't put out, loves great, and sacred fire,
The Gods can only quench, what they inspire.
Some other way propose—
Roxa.
In Vain, Orontes, now, to me you sue,
For I have learn't, how to deny, by you.
You say, I things impossible require,
And yet, the same, you now of me desire.
If to save her, you cann't your love subdue,
Hate's not less strong in me, than love in you.
That says, you must, to this Decree submit,
To see Statira slain, or her for ever quit,
Oron.
The choice is hard, Roxana—Let her live
And all thy Injuries, I will forgive.
My Hate of thee, I'le from my Breast remove,
And that is more, than half the way, to love.
Roxa.
To hear him thus intreat, I dare not stay,
My passion will, at last, it self betray.
[aside
I will no longer trifle thus, with you,
You know my will, and what you have to do.
Think on't—I but a little Time will give,
To make your choice, if she shall die, or live.
[Exit
Oron.
As men, in storms, a sinking Barque, to free,
Are forc'd to fling their wealth, into the Sea.
To save Statira's life, I now must quit,
My constant love, and the rich joys of it.
But Earth, as soon, may from it's Centre move,
As I can force my self, to leave my love.
Nor can I let her die—no, no, in vain
Roxana thinks, to keep me with this Chain,
No cruel Queen, from all thy Tyrannie,
And from these Chains, Death soon shall set me free.
The scene Closes
| The Siege of Babylon | |