 | The Siege of Babylon |  |
The SCENE, The Palace Royal in Babylon.
Enter Roxana, and Hesione.
Rox.
Who are in love, at all times cann't be wise,
Passion, o'recomes our weaker pollicies.
Who in safe peace, and undisturb'd would reign,
Should have no passions, yet oft passions feign.
Our Reason, and our Judgment they infest,
And open lay, the secrets of our Breast.
Hesi.
Madam, of all the Passions, Love's most bold,
And still is found, most hard to be control'd.
Rox.
Just now disturb'd, I from Orentes came,
Full of Revenge, of Anger, Love and Shame,
Being o'repowr'd, by their impetuous tide,
I could not my resistless Passions hide.
But at Cassander, did the Venom throw,
Of my Disdain; and Hate too plain did show.
Hesi.
I'ave wonder'd, Madam, with what skill, and Art,
You have kept under, his aspiring heart:
He cannot boast, that he in Love does thrive,
And yet, you keep his little hopes alive.
Rox.
I know not, which has in my Heart, most share,
Love, or Ambition: both are mighty there,
I cannot be content, with one alone,
I'de have my Love, and not forgoe the Throne.
For Love's sake, Perdicas my Friend I stile,
Ambition makes me on Cassander smile,
Tho I intend, at last, both to beguile.
What noise is that?—
[Clashing of swords within.
Enter Guard.
Sold.
Perdicas, Madam, on your Guard does fall,
I fear he'l force, Statira from us all.
Rox.
Go, stop him wretch—make hast—stop him I say,
First dye, and with your Bodies, block his way.
[Exeunt Guard
This amorous fool, will spoil my great designe.
Exeunt
Enter Perdicas fighting with the Guard.
Perd.
I'le force my way, tho you an Armie were.
Enter Roxana and Hesione.
Roxana snatches a sword from one of the Guard, and stops Perdicas.
Rox.
How Perdicas! Come further if you dare.
Over this Breast, you first must make your way.
Is this the great Respect you to me pay?
Perd.
Madam, you may account this Action rude,
'Tis better yet, than your Ingratitude:
Whilst Blood, and Life, I venture for your sake,
From me, what is more dear, than Life, you take.
Rox.
You are too Rash—It was your good I sought,
And I will soon, make you confess your fault.
Command your Guards off—
Perd.
Go wait without—
Rox.
Retire you, to your charge.
To her Guard flings away the sword.
Now, Perdicas, I will my mind disclose.
You, from my Rival, long have sought in vain,
For Love's deep wound, some Rem'edy to obtain:
To a deaf Statue, you do still complain.
You to a senceless Rock, your Love make known,
And court a Mistress, with a heart of stone.
I for your Rival, the like pains indure,
Which He, you know, has still deny'd to cure.
He scorns my Love, and does my sickness mock,
And wears an Heart, far harder, than a Rock.
All gentle ways, we too, too long, have try'd,
Have humbly sought, but still have been deny'd
No longer now, let us our pains endure,
A desperate Ill, must have a desperate Cure.
Perd.
'Tis true, all gentle means, I long have us'd
My hopes, and patience, I have found abus'd,
My tortur'd heart, for pain can hardly live,
And to my wounded soul, none ease can give:
But yet if pray'rs, won't make my Goddess kind,
I know not which way, you can force the mind.
Rox.
The stubborn mind, like grown Oaks, will not bend,
You cannot bow them, but with force they rend.
So our stiff Rivals, won't with us comply,
E're they will bow, and yield, they'l break, and dye.
Death they dispise: I know our loves to shun,
If Death be offer'd, both to Death will run.
Perd.
If the stiff mind, can no way forced be,
What is it, you'd propose, for Remedie?
Rox.
Art must be us'd, and I have found a way,
To make them both submit, and us obey.
They both, above themselves, each other Love,
And thorow one, we must the other move.
Though either Death would choose, ere they'd comply,
They'l yield, before they'l see each other dye.
They'l tender grow, their Passions will be mov'd,
To see Death offer'd, to the thing belov'd:
Then at your feet, you will Statira see,
And I Orontes, supplicating me.
Perd.
So great's the pain of Love, which I endure,
I any means would try, to' obtain a Cure:
We cut our Flesh, and put our selves to pain,
A Freedom, from some sharp Disease, to gain,
So I must stab, and wound my bleeding Heart,
Whilst I procure, Statira's pain and smart.
Rox.
That our Design, may to our wish succeed,
Threaten with Death, but what you do, take heed.
For if your Life, must with Statira's end,
Upon Orontes Life, mine does depend.
Perd.
Madam, I to your wisdom, and your Care
Shall leave the management, of this Affair.
I shall observe, all that you shall command,
And take my blessing, from your bounteous hand.
I with this subtle Queen, seem to comply,
[Aside.
But I have vow'd, my Rival soon shall dye.
With skilful cunning, she now plays her part,
But I will countermine her Art, with Art.
[Exit
Rox.
Thus Raging Beasts, we do with Ginns, insnare,
And subtle slights, for mighty force prepare:
The Elephant, and Horse, obey our will,
And the fierce Lion's tam'd, by Art, and skill
If what I now design does take, 'tis well,
If not (who can the event of things foretell?)
I for my safety, will so well provide,
That what seems jest, in earnest shall be try'd.
The Rival of my Love, and Crown, shall dye,
My' Ambition, and Revenge to satisfie:
But cunning Perdicas, deceiv'd must be,
With words, which do not with my Thoughts agree
The Rash Cassander, I must too beguile,
And fix him, with the favour of a smile.
Hesione, send for Cassander strait,
And whilst, with you, he does my leisure wait,
Charm him with hopes, and my late frowns excuse,
'Tis no great sin, fond Lovers to abuse.
[Exeunt.
Enter Roxana, and Hesione.
Rox.
Who are in love, at all times cann't be wise,
Passion, o'recomes our weaker pollicies.
Who in safe peace, and undisturb'd would reign,
Should have no passions, yet oft passions feign.
Our Reason, and our Judgment they infest,
And open lay, the secrets of our Breast.
Hesi.
Madam, of all the Passions, Love's most bold,
And still is found, most hard to be control'd.
Rox.
Just now disturb'd, I from Orentes came,
Full of Revenge, of Anger, Love and Shame,
Being o'repowr'd, by their impetuous tide,
I could not my resistless Passions hide.
But at Cassander, did the Venom throw,
Of my Disdain; and Hate too plain did show.
Hesi.
I'ave wonder'd, Madam, with what skill, and Art,
You have kept under, his aspiring heart:
He cannot boast, that he in Love does thrive,
And yet, you keep his little hopes alive.
Rox.
I know not, which has in my Heart, most share,
Love, or Ambition: both are mighty there,
I cannot be content, with one alone,
I'de have my Love, and not forgoe the Throne.
For Love's sake, Perdicas my Friend I stile,
Ambition makes me on Cassander smile,
Tho I intend, at last, both to beguile.
What noise is that?—
[Clashing of swords within.
Enter Guard.
Sold.
Perdicas, Madam, on your Guard does fall,
I fear he'l force, Statira from us all.
Rox.
Go, stop him wretch—make hast—stop him I say,
First dye, and with your Bodies, block his way.
[Exeunt Guard
23
Exeunt
Enter Perdicas fighting with the Guard.
Perd.
I'le force my way, tho you an Armie were.
Enter Roxana and Hesione.
Roxana snatches a sword from one of the Guard, and stops Perdicas.
Rox.
How Perdicas! Come further if you dare.
Over this Breast, you first must make your way.
Is this the great Respect you to me pay?
Perd.
Madam, you may account this Action rude,
'Tis better yet, than your Ingratitude:
Whilst Blood, and Life, I venture for your sake,
From me, what is more dear, than Life, you take.
Rox.
You are too Rash—It was your good I sought,
And I will soon, make you confess your fault.
Command your Guards off—
Perd.
Go wait without—
Rox.
Retire you, to your charge.
To her Guard flings away the sword.
Now, Perdicas, I will my mind disclose.
You, from my Rival, long have sought in vain,
For Love's deep wound, some Rem'edy to obtain:
To a deaf Statue, you do still complain.
You to a senceless Rock, your Love make known,
And court a Mistress, with a heart of stone.
I for your Rival, the like pains indure,
Which He, you know, has still deny'd to cure.
He scorns my Love, and does my sickness mock,
And wears an Heart, far harder, than a Rock.
All gentle ways, we too, too long, have try'd,
Have humbly sought, but still have been deny'd
No longer now, let us our pains endure,
A desperate Ill, must have a desperate Cure.
Perd.
'Tis true, all gentle means, I long have us'd
My hopes, and patience, I have found abus'd,
My tortur'd heart, for pain can hardly live,
And to my wounded soul, none ease can give:
But yet if pray'rs, won't make my Goddess kind,
I know not which way, you can force the mind.
Rox.
The stubborn mind, like grown Oaks, will not bend,
You cannot bow them, but with force they rend.
24
E're they will bow, and yield, they'l break, and dye.
Death they dispise: I know our loves to shun,
If Death be offer'd, both to Death will run.
Perd.
If the stiff mind, can no way forced be,
What is it, you'd propose, for Remedie?
Rox.
Art must be us'd, and I have found a way,
To make them both submit, and us obey.
They both, above themselves, each other Love,
And thorow one, we must the other move.
Though either Death would choose, ere they'd comply,
They'l yield, before they'l see each other dye.
They'l tender grow, their Passions will be mov'd,
To see Death offer'd, to the thing belov'd:
Then at your feet, you will Statira see,
And I Orontes, supplicating me.
Perd.
So great's the pain of Love, which I endure,
I any means would try, to' obtain a Cure:
We cut our Flesh, and put our selves to pain,
A Freedom, from some sharp Disease, to gain,
So I must stab, and wound my bleeding Heart,
Whilst I procure, Statira's pain and smart.
Rox.
That our Design, may to our wish succeed,
Threaten with Death, but what you do, take heed.
For if your Life, must with Statira's end,
Upon Orontes Life, mine does depend.
Perd.
Madam, I to your wisdom, and your Care
Shall leave the management, of this Affair.
I shall observe, all that you shall command,
And take my blessing, from your bounteous hand.
I with this subtle Queen, seem to comply,
[Aside.
But I have vow'd, my Rival soon shall dye.
With skilful cunning, she now plays her part,
But I will countermine her Art, with Art.
[Exit
Rox.
Thus Raging Beasts, we do with Ginns, insnare,
And subtle slights, for mighty force prepare:
The Elephant, and Horse, obey our will,
And the fierce Lion's tam'd, by Art, and skill
If what I now design does take, 'tis well,
If not (who can the event of things foretell?)
25
That what seems jest, in earnest shall be try'd.
The Rival of my Love, and Crown, shall dye,
My' Ambition, and Revenge to satisfie:
But cunning Perdicas, deceiv'd must be,
With words, which do not with my Thoughts agree
The Rash Cassander, I must too beguile,
And fix him, with the favour of a smile.
Hesione, send for Cassander strait,
And whilst, with you, he does my leisure wait,
Charm him with hopes, and my late frowns excuse,
'Tis no great sin, fond Lovers to abuse.
[Exeunt.
| The Siege of Babylon | |