University of Virginia Library

The SCENE, A Tower of the Palace.
Enter Statira and Parisatis.
Stat.
Death, which each moment, we expect to see,
Is far less dreadful, than this news to me;
Whilst my Orontes was in safety, I
With less Concern, and more Content could dye:
But now, my soul opprest, with busie care,
Is ruffl'd, and for Him, disturb'd with fear.

Pari.
But Sister, why are you disturb'd so much
You know, Roxana's Love for him, is such,
You may assure your self, and well believe,
He no ill treatment, will from her receive.
What is it then, should so uncalm your mind?
Unless you're jealous she should be too kind:
But his great love, and constancy you know,
Not all her Charms, and Arts, can overthrow.
This great attempt, and valiant Act does prove,
That he still wears, a true, and constant Love.

Stat.
That constancy, you think should me secure
From Fear, does cause the Fear, I now endure,
For what will not, that wicked Woman dare.
To do, when Love is turn'd into Dispair?
Whilst she has hopes, her Love will make her kind,
When they are lost, she'l shew her cruel mind:
Rob'd of her Whelps, a Tygress will not be
So Cruel, and so full of Rage, as she.
Her Love's no pure, unmixt, and gentle Fire,
But is an impure Flame, an hot, untam'd Desire.

Pari.
Are you content, he should inconstant prove,
To shun the Fate which threatens, his true Love?

Stat.
Should I consent, should I request it too,
That is a thing, I know, he could not do.

Pari.
In things that no ways remedy'd can be;
We must submit, to hard Necessitie:
By Death, our Troubles will to peace be chang'd,
And though we dye, we shan't dye unreveng'd.
We have two Friends, who with their armed powers,
Will soon revenge Orontes Death, and Ours.

Enter Cleone.
Cleo.
The Captain of Roxana's Guard, does wait
Without, and asks to be admitted strait:
His business Madam, I can no ways learn,
But's looks betray, some great, and sad concern.

Stat.
Go Cleone, and bring him in—
[Exit Cleone
The unexpected news of Death, might fright,
But expectation, now, does make it light:
They who for it, beforehand do prepare,
When it approaches, don't like others fear.

Enter Captain with the Guard and Cleone.
Capt.
By me the Queen, does let you understand,
(Madam, I must obey her strict command)
It is her pleasure, that yon strait must dye.

Stat.
'Tis what I expected, from her Cruelty.
She told me her self, what now I hear from you,
I then believ'd her Threats she would pursue,
Therefore, to dye, I have my self prepar'd,
But has the Tyrant, Sir, my sister spar'd?

Capt.
I know not, Madam, what sh' intends to do,
My Orders, now, concern not her, but you.

Pari.
In vain, she spares my Life, if she must die,
Nature, and Friendship, us together tie,
And they have knit a knot, cann't be unti'd,
Nor shall her Tyranny, us two divide,
For the kind Gods, to us, a pow'r do give,
That, at our pleasure, we may cease to live.

Stat.
Sister, you ought to Death, no more to run
Than you for fear, should its approaches shun:
On the Gods wills, with patience, you, must wait,
And neither, run to seek, nor shun your Fate.
When I am dead, I'le hover in the Air,
And there, I will unseen, of you take Care.
Adeu dear sister—
[Embrace
—I'm assur'd my Friend
Will both Revenge me, and your Life defend.

Pari,
Cruel Roxana! thus to make us part,
Is from my Breast, to tare my living Heart.
Adue dear sister—
[Embrace
—Tho w' are parted thus
Death shall again, restore our Joys to us:
You, but few moments, shall before me go,
E're I'le o'retake you, in the shades below.

Stat.
To what place is it, I must go to dye?

Capt.
'Tis to Orontes Prison.—

Stat.
What! Will Roxana be so good, to me?
Will she, once more, let me Orontes see?
For this great kindness, I'le her wrongs forgive,
Tho after that, I but one moment live.

Capt.
If kindness she designs, I do not know,
But, Madam, thither 'tis, that you must go.

Stat.
Let's go then, Death it self seems pleasant, there,
This unexpected Joy, has banished fear.

[Exeunt Capt. Stat. and Cleone with Guards
Pari.
How fast, the Dream, of Greatness, slides away!
How soon is worldly Pomp, and Glory lost.
Fortune, with Princes, still delights to play,
And in their Ruines, does her great pow'r boast.
The great, stand high, on slippery Rocks, of Ice,
They cannot move, but they must move, in Fear,
Like seeming stars, that shoot down, from the Skies,
They tumble headlong, from their lofty Sphear.
Happy are they, who in poor Cabbins dwell,
And there content, rest on their humble Beds,
Great Joys, nor Griefs, enter their homely Cell,
Nor Cares, Distrusts, nor Fears, disturb their Heads:
Their pleasures small, but natural, and true:
Happy! if their own happiness they knew.

[Exit