University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

The SCENE changes to a Prison.
Decimus alone with a Book in his Hand.
Dec.
Honest Lucretius, open in thy Thought,
And e'en in Madness, wittily inimitable,
Well hast thou search'd coy Natures secret Paths,
Watch'd all her Motions in each subtil turn,
Till tir'd, the Goddess yeilded to thy Arms,
And there unfolded all her secret Charms.
If my Ends, near—

Enter an Attendant.
Attend.
Lord Madoc Sir, a Priest desires to know,
If his Visit will not be troublesome.

Dec.
O by no means; let the good Man enter.
Madoc! that evil Influence to Greatness,
What can his Business be with me?

Enter Madoc.
Mad.
[Aside ...]
Commanded by the King, and urg'd by Hate,
With how much Pleasure shall I Sound the Depths,
The Shoals and Shallows of this Roman's Heart. [... Aside]

I fear I shall be most unwelcome to you.

Dec.
Please you to sit my Lord.

Mad.
I grieve to tell you Sir, you soon must die;
And therefore as my Office does require,
I'm come a little to prepare you for it.

Dec.
First let us drink. Some Wine here.

Mad.
Is Wine so proper now?

Dec.
The World and I have been Friends my Lord,
I shan't be in the Dumps at parting with it.

Mad.
Be it with Temperance then, and I agree;
I am not like those, who make themselves above
Those earthly Comforts which the Gods have giv'n.

Enter an Attendant with Wine.
Dec.
So: Now depart— (Exit Attendant.)
I do believe your Lordship;
Priests, as their Brother Poets, will drink Wine;
'Tis their Inspirer, 'tis their very Phœbus,
The Bounteous Father of their ev'ry Muse.
Behold him in the Glass, the glorious He,
See here his lively Smiles, his warm Complexion,
And all the flaming Beauties of his Face;
But above all, observe his furious Wit,
See how it Foams here, and Sparkles there;
'Twas this bold changeless Offspring of his Brain,
Which set on Fire the uneven Globe,
Which dy'd the Streams of customary Vice,
And by the Satyr threatned vengeful Jove.
'Twas this whose swift smooth Feet reach'd scornful Daphne,
And turn'd the courted Charmer to a Laurel.

Mad.
I wou'd be serious Sir.

Dec.
Then to be serious Sir, let us Examine
The wond'rous maze of boundless Nature well,
And try if we can find the secret Cause
Of this most known Effect. Why, good my Lord,
Of all Religions, those that are the wealthiest,
Are follow'd by you Poverty Preaching Priests;
And why is it that never yet Reformer,
Was Master of a Reverend Holy Benefice?

Mad.
Your Thoughts were better on a future State.

Dec.
What was my Dream last Night—yet 'tis no Matter.
O 'twas your Lordship shaking Hands with Jove:
I thought it had indeed, as most Dreams have,
Something of Monstrous in it.

Mad.
I will not think you Mad, tho' you're Abuseful;
Your wisest Stoicks I have study'd much,
And therefore shall not be asham'd to own
Your generous Contempt of Death;
Which not only stills my Anger, but excites
An awful Pity in me:
And I cou'd wish you yet wou'd bend to Reason.

Dec.
Nay if your Lordship Flatters, you'll be Free;
Come let us joyn our Hands and Sin in Secret:
Say, will you have a Wench? I have within
A Couple of as plump and nice daub'd Harlots
As ever Britain bred.

Mad.
Yet, e'er you have o'erpow'rd forgiving Patience,
Improve it to your Good, your Good I wish;
Employ it to the King, for he is Merciful;
He may compassionate your generous Soul,
And save you, or at least defer your Death.

Dec.
No; but least you o'erpow'r my Civility
With base Impertinence, begone with speed,
Fly to your Closet, scan your sinful Soul,
And if you can believe the Rules you teach,
Tremble to Heav'n, gain Mercy for your self,
Die still in Thought, that Fate may be the less fear'd.
As for the Prince, it is enough to say,
He loaths thy Principles as much as I do.

Mad.
Vile Sinner, by the Gods and me abjur'd,
I'll leave you to the Doom you scorn to shun,
Nor idly think of a returning Friend;
No, you are lost to Earth as well as Heav'n.
[Exit Madoc.

Dec.
Then thou art gone Guiderius! gone! the Hero,
The Just, the Brave no more, and I must die.
Well, if he's happy, Death thou'rt not unwelcome;
And yet methinks he might have spar'd Ingratitude,
Where does Thought wander, turn thou sinking Thing,
From an ignoble, false desertless World,
To Death the last most noted Scene of Life:
That that behoves thee much. When on the Scaffold,
To sing, to laugh, to sternly Death disdain,
The Marks of Desperation, not true Courage;
And hopeless Cowards thus may Valiant seem.
It will not do—stay, something Noble offers,
Cou'd I but Sleep, or but dissemble Sleep,
That sure Expression of a careless Mind;
That only Phrase in which we can't dissemble,
Would raise my Fame above a common height.
Some Musick there. Your softest Strains apply.
[Soft Musick.
Enough—I find my Spirits all inclin'd;
Fermented by the Pleasure of the Night,
They settle to Repose: Kind Power welcome.

[Sleeps.
Enter Guiderius.
Guid.
Where is my Friend? Illusion! Can he Sleep
And Death so nigh? at least, my long delay,
Might well have giv'n him Cause to think it so.
So soundly Sweet! What more cou'd soft Prosperity?
But thus it is with Man, who dares be happy,
Who dares release himself from Fear and Doubt:
For let the Mind but be establish'd firmly
On Principles of high unchanging Reason;
And tho' Fate threatens with severest Terrors,
Tho' the Graves Gape, and glaring Ghosts ascend,
Nay, shou'd he see the Parts of Being fail,
Old Nature laid, the Elements and Seasons
Eager of Civil War, and sure Confusion,
Forcing their Freedoms from her dying Hands;
The Earth forsaken by supporting Rocks,
Sink, break, and sever like expanded Ice
After a Shelting Rain; the furious Sea,
Rampant in Liberty come rolling high,
Drowning at once the faster Hill and Vale,
The haughty Sun broke from his long restraint,
Flaming Revenge against the Neighb'ring Heav'ns,
Splitting and scattering the Christal Orbs.
Shou'd he behold all this, he'd at the most
But wonder, knowing well he cou'd but die.
Awake, my Friend, the Hour of Death draws near.

Dec.
Who calls—ha! can it, can it be Guiderius!
Inimitable Youth, return'd to die!
To die for him! Curse him that cou'd suspect thee.
But say, my Godlike Friend, thy Entertainment,
Has it been answerable to our Hopes?

Guid.
Had Goddess Nature from the briskest Life,
Pick'd out of Love the most transporting Minutes,
Crouded them all into one round of Hours
For me, she could not more have charm'd! O Friend!
Hymen e'er Yesternight had made us One.
All Life, I rush'd into her willing Arms,
Nor thought of Death but from her ready Charms;
With eager Spirits, first our Lips we join,
While round her softer Limbs I fastned mine;
Her balmy Body to my Heart I prest,
And with my Lips devour'd her panting Breast,
But oh! what envying God can speak the rest.
Most knowing love had here no certain Mark,
But shot at Random, thro' the pleasing Dark;
Thro' feeling Eyes, not only peirc'd the Heart,
But fired it o'er and o'er thro' e'ery Part,
Sweet rest was hateful, for we still lov'd on,
And e'en our Bodies like our Souls were one.

Dec.
If such thy Bliss has been, why hast thou left it?
Cou'dst thou not fly with her, whom after these,
These mighty Joys she gave, thy Soul must doat on ever?

Guid.
I cou'd have fled in Foreign Lands, been Safe,
But Friendship.

Dec.
How cou'dst thou leave the downy Lap of Love?
Of blooming Love! that with transporting Freedoms
Lull'd thy adored Soul; and turn to Death?
It is impossible, in Nature false.

Guid.
How! false!

Dec.
A very vicious Boast, where cou'dst thou go?

Guid.
Since you provoke a Boast, to Rome I cou'd,
To your Inheritance; urg'd to forsake you
E'en by your Sister Claudia.

Dec.
How the Gods labour to erect thy Fame?
Immortal happy Youth! now what am I?
Thy Foil, thy Setter off, is it not so?
Why did'st thou not, when urg'd, leave me to Death?
Yet so I had engross'd the worth of Glory,
And left thee nought but Dross thou worthy all!
What's to be done?

Guid.
The little Time my Brother's Hate allows
Lets give to kind farewels; what can we more?

Dec.
Then wilt thou leave me destitute in Fame?
Is there no way to equal thee in Friendship?
Impossible! but is there nought but Words
To testify my Heart? ha! I've a Thought
Though dreadful, yet my Genius calls it Just;
Speed it requires; stand like a Man my Friend,
For I must tell thee something strangely horrid;
I love thee more than all the World beside,
And therefore will not let thy Life be ended
By slavish Hands upon a publick Scaffold,
A Holiday for the rejoycing Vulgar;
No, as thou hast liv'd in most uncommon Honour,
So shalt thou die. Come then belov'd of Gods,
Thou Favourite of Fame, bright setting Hero,
Whose rising Rays shall warm the wiser World,
Close to my Breast I'll press thee, whilst I tell thee
These Arms that now embrace, shall end thy Life.

Guid.
Excessive Friendship! ha! what then becomes of thee.

Dec.
No matter, he that dares to die, dares any Thing;
Let the dull Patient Wretch, who ne'er has known
One Hour of Comfort but from flatt'ring Hope,
Drudge on in tedious Life; For me my Friend,
The World has all been mine, I've nothing now to hope
But a surviving Name, which thou alone can'st give me.
Why do'st thou Pause? thy Brother can but kill me:
And oh! to leave thee to his hateful Justice,
When I had Pow'r to prevent it. Gods!
This would alone my Actions past deface,
And make me ever odious to my self.
Do'st thou look up with an assent, oh Blessing,
The Clouds depart, altho' it be in Showers;
Come then dear Youth, a last but short Farewel:
Say, shall I kill thee, shall we triumph? shall we?
Over thy Tyrant Brother now approaching?

Guid.
Since you esteem it best, I must agree,
For now your Quiet's mine; thus to your Arms,
Thus let me Clasp you once for vast Eternity;
Once worthy th'everlasting Separation
Of such uncommon Friends;
For now each Object which my Sense discerns,
Seems silently to look a last farewel.
Can'st thou not speak? then crush me closer Friend,
Farewel, farewel, oh! 'tis a fatal Word,
It drowns my Eyes, and choaks my fault'ring Speech.

Dec.
What can I speak? I was not form'd for softness,
Nor sobbing Grief, but my close Heart weeps Blood;
Look thro' my Eyes, and there thou may'st perceive
A sullen solemn Scene of inward Mourning
Which scorns to be express'd in outward show,
But I waste time, and thou may'st be forc'd from me;
Be thus then, oh be thus, our last Embrace.
Closer, yet closer; let it be a hearty one,
For 'tis the last, it must, it must be so;
Take then thy distance and make bare thy Bosom.
[Draws.
Full nobly hast thou done it, spight of Fear;
Yet hast thou ought to speak, e'er I kill thee?

Guid.
Aurosia, oh! much cou'd I talk of thee
But 'tis too late.

[Aside.
Dec.
Methought I heard a distant Voice say something;
Thy Brother comes, and if he's still the same
Lean on my Arm, my Sword fix'd to thy Breast,
I'll Stab thee e'er his Pow'r can prevent me.
E'en in his Sight, thus while he heaves the Cup,
I'll dash his Draught of Vengeance in his Face.

Enter King, Madoc, Attendants and Guards.
King.
Where are the Hero's, whose transcendant Friendship
Shall Guide the World unborn?
What do I see! oh Horror and Confusion!
What means the Roman by that deadly Posture?
How is it with Guiderius?

Guid.
Well, past thy Pow'r.

King.
Then I am past all Goodness; and thou Hell,
Thou hideous Reward of all that's wicked,
Show me in all thy various State of Torments,
From Purple Tyrants, to the Lustful Slave,
A Soul so damn'd, so amply damn'd as mine.

Guid.
What can I think, or can I think at all!
What means the King?

King.
I mean by Tend'rest Care, and constant Kindness
To heal thy Wrongs. O Brother can'st thou Pardon me!
What matchless Virtue, oh what heav'nly Honour
Have I attempted to destroy!

Guid.
Oh be less kind, that I may think you real.
What must I live, live with my Wife and Friend?

King.
Yes, I cou'd Curse my self, that give thee Cause to Doubt it.

Guid.
Now I must live, live with a Thousand Pleasures,
Which I had all renounc'd comes crowding on me;
Avaunt ye Fawners, room for my Aurosia;
The dear Aurosia, first-born of my Joys,
Is mine! not only for a fleeting Night,
But oh! for Years! for Ages! wholly mine.

King.
I'm happy too that can compleat the Bliss.

Guid.
What is she here! Aurosia mine again!
[Goes to the Door and returns with Aurosia.
What in my Arms! how bright the World is grown!
The Gods all Smile, and Nature is in Raptures,
Oh! Let me press thee to my ardent Heart,
Which beating to my own in wildest Extacy,
Can only tell my Thoughts.

Aur.
While our fix'd Eyes, Loves softer sweeter Voice,
Express in melting Strains our mutual Fires,
How much we've lov'd, how well we've disagreed,
Since from the Frowns of a fatal Honour freed.

Dec.
Whence cou'd proceed this most unlook'd for Change.

King.
Your wond'rous Example wrought it.

Dec.
But what return can your Majesty expect from us.

King.
A Treasure which I rate above my Kingdom,
To be into the sacred Bond admitted
Of your Immortal Friendship.

Dec.
That can be but a trivial Grant in us
Which Justice cannot otherwise dispose.

King.
Nor wou'd I have it. To confirm my Word,
Be now a Witness of my Reformation.
Madoc, as a dishonest double Dealer
An undermining Flaterer, Coward, Villain,
I Banish thee for ever from my Britain.
Go see my Pleasure executed instantly,
[To an Attendant which goes out with Madoc guarded.
While we remain a Blessing to each other,
And by our Actions past, convince the World,
Though Precept for a Time our Sense may Rule,
Example only can convert the Soul.

[Exeunt Omnes.