University of Virginia Library

SCENE. III.

A Chamber, with a Table set out with Sweet-meats.
Enter a Lord, leading in Antelina.
Lord.
Madam, the King will instantly be here;
This small Collation is for you provided.
[Exit Lord.

Ante.
This Banquet seems most luckily provided;
For unsuspected now I can destroy
His Life, who robb'd mine of its Glory:
I swore no opportunity should scape,
In which I might revenge my Virgin's Loss:
In then thou bane of Mortals,
[Pours Poison into a Bowl of Wine.
Thou Enemy to Life, and Friend of Death;
Thy fatal Virtue mix so curiously,
That the most cunning Sense may not distrust thee.
Hark, the Royal Thief approaches.

Enter King and Lord.
King.
Are all things order'd as I gave directions?

Lord.
Your curious Fancy is obey'd in all.

King.
Leave us, let not the Princess
Nor a Soul disturb us.

Lord.
I shall be careful, Sir.
[Exit Lord.

King.
Aside.
The Subtilety o'th' most experienc'd Lovers
Which have subdued the chastest of the kind,
The Eloquence of Cicero affect me;
Thou Mother to the Deity of Love,
Into her Breast convey thy yielding Soul,
And give me Charms to conquer all Resistance.

Ante.
Aside.
Thou Goddess of unspotted Castity;
Thou worthy Patroness of Injur'd Vertue,
Right me on this Imperial Ravisher.

King.
Fair Injury!

[Moves towards her and bows very low.
Ante.
How slily does this Devil masque his Falshood:
So look'd the First, when credulous Eve he tempted,
And of her blessed Paradise depriv'd her.

[Aside.
King.
Thou moving Token of thy Prince's Mischief,
Look on me with compassionate Observance;
I groan beneath the Burthen of my Crimes;
Thy Pity only can the Weight remove,
Which Cloggs my Soul, and sinks it to Destruction.

Ante.
I shall have Justice, worrying Flatterer.

King.
By all my Hopes of Quiet, noble too,
Such Justice as shall heal your wounded Honour,
And calm the worst Resentments of your Father:
I'll set thy Vertues in a Sphere so high,
Shall make 'em yet out-shine thy Sexes Pride.

Ante.
As well the Oak may flourish like the Elm,
When Ivy has debas'd its noble Trunk.

King.
When Mortals begg Remission for their Sins
With an unfeigned Desire, Heavens Ear enclines:
Be thou like Heaven to my entreating Prayers,
And let my just Repentance claim some Pity.

Ante.
Thou hast been basely Cruel.

King.
The greater will thy Mercy shew to Pardon;
Do not upbraid me ever, but relent;
[Kneels.
My Sins, which like a Leprosie ran o'er me,
The Tears of Penitence have wash'd away;
Nor can I think my Soul inclin'd to th'Act:
Some Fiend admiring of thee, enter'd me,
And with his Charms forc'd me act his Will.

Ante.
I must seem yielding; to bring him to my Ends
Requires Belief I may be brought to his.
Rise, Sir.

King.
Will you sit down then?

Ante.
I will.

[Sits.
King.
Will you salute this Bowl, or in a
Friendly Draught drown what is past?
Oh bless me with the Sound of thy Forgiveness,
And my sad Soul shall shake its Sorrows off,
And dance to th'joyful Musick of thy Mercy:
Drink my Hearts Trouble.

[Gives her the Bowl.
Ante.
Peace to our Wrongs.

[She drinks.
King.
I thirst for it:
[Takes the Bowl and drinks.
May all our Sorrows shrink as this decays.

Ante.
May it wash out thy Sins, I do forgive thee.

King.
Souls banish'd Heaven, could not be better pleas'd
To be call'd back again:
Some Musick there to humour this sweet Softness.
[A Song.
Eat, my Comfort, here's Food delicious,
As the Gods delight in, luscious as Loves desires;
Let's feast and revel till we have wearied Luxury,
And with our Appetites Extravagance made Cræsus poor.

Ante.
Thou wilt be poor anon.

King.
Wilt thou not eat, my Queen?

Ante.
I am not well.

King.
Let us retire, my Life; within are Cordials,
Masters of all Sickness.

Ante.
Make use then of 'em, for thou art mighty ill.

King.
Not Paris was in better Health, when he,
His dear stolen Helen first embrac'd:
I feel my pious Purposes decay,
And I am lost again in vast Desire.

Ante.
Is this thy faithful Sorrow?

King.
Would'st have me weep my self
Like Niobe into a Stone?
I've sigh'd sufficiently for what is past;
Therefore thy Joys must make my Grief amends.

Ante.
Oh Monster!

King.
Throw off this foolish Vertue and be kind;
My Blood boils high.

Ante.
Thy Soul will sink as low.

King.
I'll sink it in thy Arms then.

Ante.
Good Gods!

King.
Could those good Gods transform thee to a Tree,
Like Daphne, when Apollo did pursue her;
Thus should my twisted Arms grow to thee,
Whilst every Branch which sprung from our fair Sides,
Were royal Issues of each others Pleasure.

Ante.
Thou bitter Curse on Vertue, thou art poison'd.

King.
This will not save thee.

Ante.
By the Honour thou hast destroy'd, not the Worlds Art,
With thy own Nature, were it strong as Cruel,
Can carry off the Venom in thy Blood.

King.
If I am poison'd then my Time's more precious,
And on thy Bosom shall my Life expire;
So bless'd I'd willingly my Life resign;
In Ecstasies of Bliss I'll upwards climb:
Upon thy Lips I'll leave my parting Soul,
And giddy with my Joys to Darkness rowl.

Enter Lord.
Lord.
To Arms, or fly immediately;
The Army's at your Pallace, bellowing lowd,
Rheusanes is our King; down with the Tyrant:
There's not a Citizen but arms the Cause,
And vows to share their Fortune.

Ante.
I cannot live to see my Wrongs reveng'd;
[She sinks and sits on the Ground.
Fear Tyrant, for Heavens Vengeance
Crouds upon thee.

King.
This message like Qualm comes cross my Blood,
And chills the Heat her Beauties had inspir'd.
Draw up our Guards, lets meet 'em with the utmost
Force we have, and back it with an equal Resolution.
This Cunning shall not save thee, here thou shalt remain,
Till I the worst Event of Fortune know;
And if I find my Crown I must resign,
I will return in spight of all thy Art,
And perish in thy Arms.
Rheusanes and thy Father shall behold it,
Whilst both their Swords shall want the Power to part us;
For as my Wounds successively are made,
As they stab me so will I kiss thee dead.

[Exit.
Ante.
Oh Rheusanes! some unseen Power
Whisper in thy Ear,
How nobly Antelina keeps her Vow:
I feel the Mischief coursing through my Veins,
And like a Town attack'd from every side,
It does surround my Heart, feign 'twould hold out
To parley with the General,
And after some Conditions give it up.

[Shout without.
Enter Rheusanes.
Rheu.
I hear my Name cry'd up by all for King,
And zealous mutiny comes fiercely on;
I long to know my Antelina's Fate,
Whilst doubtful of her Safety I remain:
I cannot die, but hover hereabout,
Like a poor frighted Bird about her Nest,
When she suspects the Danger of her Young.

Ante.
Who's there?

Rheu.
Again upon the Ground;
[Runs to Antelina.
How are my Fears confirm'd?

Ante.
Rheusanes!

Rheu.
The same, but tell me, (Oh my Doubts!)
Why do I find thee thus?

Ante.
A Bed of Honour this, not of Disgrace;
The King no more my Vertue shall destroy,
Nor live to boast the Rape of Antelina.

Rheu.
What dost thou mean?

Ante.
I drank thy Health in the same Draught
The King did his Destruction;
The Thoughts of thee sweeten'd the bitter Cup,
And made the Potion pleasant to my Taste.

Rheu.
Thou art not poison'd?

Ante.
Forgive me if I've rob'd thee of thy Justice;
Jealous of losing it I made it sure,
And gave him what will thorowly revenge us.

Rheu.
The Action troubles me, altho' I cannot live
To see the Event: I wish thy Sufferings may quit
Thy Crimes, for Heaven has great Regard to Princes.

Ante.
And has it none for injured Subjects think you?

Rheu.
Not when they offer to Revenge themselves;
Fir'd by thy Wrongs, and work'd up by thy Father,
I went to end him; But Oh the sad mistake!
I slew thy Brother for him.

Ante.
Hard Usage truly, but 'tis done, and I must wait
My Sentence: Live thou (Oh my intended, but
Unhappy Lover!) and prithee, dear Rheusanes, prithee
Befriend the Troubles of thy Wife:
Credit me, wondrous Goodness dwells within her;
And since the King and I are both remov'd,
Reward her tedious Sufferings with thy Love.

Rheu.
Not Three Hours since she perish'd by my Side.

Ante.
Then I expire too late.

Rheu.
Rally thy Spirits Strength, and stay a little;
Oh do not fly so soon!

Drums, Trumpets, and the Noise of a Battle without.
Enter King Mad, with his Sword drawn.
King.
All's lost, no Words on't; let Furies laugh and
Rattle Chains for Joy, I'm coming; Oh how I burn!
The ambitious Boy that set the World on fire,
And perish'd in the Flames his Folly kindled,
Dy'd in a gentle Sweat to what I feel.

Rheu.
Hee's come, Heaven let his Madness find me.

King.
The Toils of Sysiphus, Prometheus's Pains,
And all the Poets Tales of tortur'd Sinners,
Are Fictions to the Punishments I suffer:
I'll sue to Proserpine to quench these Fires,
Her Arms have Power.
Ha Pluto! here come to compel my Love?
Die, Devil, die;
[Runs Rheusanes through.
And I'll be Prince of Hell.

Ante.
Rheusanes, Oh!

[Dies.
Rheu.
I follow thee; bless'd be the Hand that sends me.

King.
Give me some Water there, some Water, Doggs;
Pour down my Throat an hundred thousand Tunns
To cool my boiling Blood; let Winter lay me
In his frozen Lap, and weep Snow on me;
My Heat would melt his Hoard upon the Alps,
And make a second Flood for Italy:
My Feaver would thaw Charity.

[Shout without.
Enter Ghinotto.
Ghin.
He's here.

[Ghin. runs at him, the King drops his Sword as they are strugling.
King.
What art thou?

Ghin.
This shall inform thee.

The K. draws a Dagger and stabs Ghin.
King.
Am I ta'n Prisoner then? O, Treason:
Fly to my Rescue, this I think will free me:
There, there, there.

Enter Collonel with Souldiers.
Coll.
How is it, Sir?

[To Ghinotto.
Ghin.
Why, not well.

[Dies.
Coll.
Oh dismal Spectacle! General, look up;
Oh how he has cross'd our Purpose?
Behold your Collonel, Sir, with such Relief,
As will recover your lost Life and Time.

Rheu.
Do not disturb me.

Coll.
How came this, Sir?

Rheu.
By the Kings hand: This Lady in a Bowl
Of Poison drank to him, and in its rageing Madness
He destroy'd me: Ghinotto is the Cause of all:
I can no more; Heaven forgive it: Hold fast
My Hope, and to the Stars conduct me.

[Dies.
Coll.
Now sets the Sun of Glory; the World
Is darkn'd by thy Lights decay, which ne'er
Will rise to bless this Land again;
Cursed Ambition! what Slaughter hast thou made?

King.
My infected Blood flows swiftly forth, and
Reason now torments me more than Poison.

Coll.
What Mercy can thy Wickedness expect?

King.
Had I but time, I'd tell thee.

[Dies.
Coll.
Oh Death! Oh thou luxurious Thief!
How has thy vicious Appetite been feasted?
Wretched Ghinotto! hadst thou been more just,
This Wrack had never happen'd.
Would I were in my Grave, I should not see
The Miseries this Land must feel for thee.
The sad Remains of this unhappy Crown,
Have much to do to fix their shaking Throne.