University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

[Scene I.]

The Scene a Garden.
Enter Juliana, and Governess.
Jul.
Begone—let me alone, I will not live.
Goe—as you hope that I should you forgive.
Yet if you e're would mee a Favour doe,
Bee but soe kind to Kill mee 'fore you goe.

Gov.
You ask that, Madam, which I dare not act:
It is a Barb'rous and too bloody fact.
A Crime! Posterity would ne're forgive.
Soe fair a person should for ever live.

Jul.
Beauty despis'd is a most abject thing.
Without Authority what is a King?
O noe, I cannot with my honour live;
Therefore in vain you doe instructions give.
Death too perhaps may kinder to mee prove.

Gov.
To you it may, but not unto your love.
The utmost you can hope for in your Grave
Is that perhaps his pity you may have.
Live, Madam, live. Once more your future try.
Don't vex yourself. Y'ave time enough to dye.
Hee is, I swear, a very hard-hearted man
If Youth, and Beauty nothing with him can.

Jul.
All th'Arts I've try'd that e're I yet could find
Did but belong to cunning woeman-kind.
I open'd all ye tresses of my Hair,
Show'd him ev'ry thing, that wee thought was fair.
Hee then would sigh, and swear by all above
Ther' w's nought soe dear to him as was my Love.
Heavens! how much of pleasure then I took!
Then I could heat, and Fire him with a Look.
Oh!—when hee came and laid his—Burning hand
Uppon these snowy Alps, my breasts—
Hee swore noe Emp'rour should him dethrone!
Hee was resolv'd to keep that port alone.
But now!—Gods! he dares hate mee to my Face,
And you would have mee live in my disgrace!

Gov.
Perhaps hereafter he may Love again.
Who knows but now hee smothers it with pain.

Jul.
It is impossible that Love expir'd
With ye same Beauty should again bee fir'd.

Gov.
He needs must Love, I'me sure, if hee did see
Half but those Beautys which appear to mee.
Try him again, when hee does come from war,
And I myself will bee your Leading star:
Hee shan't resist, I'le mollifye his heart;
Hee's not invulnerable in ev'ry part.
Let him bee rough, and stern, as cold as snow,
I'le warrant you at last wee'le make him bow.

Jul.
O my dear Fairest Maid, could'st thou doe this,
What rewards would I give!
All that I'me worth I'de give to enjoy such bliss,
But—

Gov.
What, but?—

Jul.
'Tis impossible to enjoy.
My—sister stands, and does my hopes destroy.

Gov.
Your sister never will your Loves Annoy,
For to my knowledge she does hate him more
Than ever, Madam, you did love before.

Jul.
She can't resist him long, nor can she long deny.
Hee'le swear hee loves, and then hee'le swear, “I dye.”
And she, poor soul, for fear he should doe soe,
Which heaven knows hee never meant to doe,
Will presently beleive what hee does say,
Nor will again soe—furious turn away.
I know, though she may carry it more high,
She can resist such men noe more than I.
Don't I blush to say I love, and love him soe,
That I can't tell what I had best to doe!

Gov.
How strang'ly loves disorders 'bout us roul!
Th'are like Convulsion fits unto ye soul.
In vain strong reason dictates to ye mind
Which is to mightier love before inclin'd.

Jul.
I think, I think, and never think enough;
Oh! I'me undone, I am lost in thought.
Oroandes! Oh! Oro—an—

[Sinking.
Gov.
Ah! [Screeks out.

Why, Madam!—

Jul.
Hah! Where am I? your hand! I sink,I drown! [Raving.

Hold mee fast! O how ye Heavens turn round!
And all ye trees goe dancing on ye ground.
Yonder's damn'd Venus has my lord by th'hand.
Another—Goddess does there kissing stand.

Gov.
Oh, Madam! for Heavens sake, bee more mild.

Jul.
What? another Rivall? I'le have you too kill'd.
Alone I will him have, by all above;
None of you all shall cheat mee of my love.
Love if you dare: I'le kill you if you doe.
The gallant Oroandes you shan't know.
Come then, my dear, let's vanish out of sight
And wander in ye Labyrinth of Night. [Exit.


Gov.
Who e're, o Love, can hope unhurt to goe,
When they that love soe much are punish'd soe?
But hark! ye Royall Musick leads this way.
The King is coming, and I cannot stay. [Exit.


Enter King Zoroastres, Polynice, with Attendants. As the King enters a Flourish is plaid.
Zor.
Retire and wait without. [Ye guards goe off.


Poly.
But, Father, won't you tell mee this your greife?
You doe not know but I may find releife.
My dear Father!

Zor.
Forbear, Fond Child, to know.
It is a mystery too deep for you.
Goe, call Cyane hither. [Exit Polynice.

I! whom ye cares of Empire could not move
Am forc'd at last to bend t'inglorious love.
All my heap'd Glorys must now scatter'd lay,
And to this Tyrant love become a prey.
[Sits down. Soft Musick above.
Enter Polynice.
Well, my child, hast found her?

Poly.
Yes, but soe chang'd, you can't know her.
Uppon a mossy bank she sat, and cry'd,
“All this for thee I suffer,” and then
Soe many tears gush'd out, that I vow
I pityed her, and said you would pity her too.

Zor.
O child! this pretty thing, when first I took her,
And rescued her from her Angry Fathers arms
Was perfect innocence, all white, all smooth,
Nothing but good, till she was grown upp,
And then she was all, all—nothing but woeman.

Poly.
Why? is there any harm in them? pray, Sir,
Must not my sister and I bee woemen?

Zor.
Noe, I'le stop your Age.

Poly.
Then wee shall never bee old woemen, Father, shall wee?
But here Cyane comes.

Enter Cyane.
Zor.
Madam.—«Heav'ns, how I dread her anger now!
What dreadfull storms are thick'ning on her brow!
S'death, how imperious she looks!» Madam.

Cy.
Sir.

Zor.
May I ever hope to have your love?

Cy.
How dare you, Sir, this question to mee move?
Love you! after you have such threatnings us'd!
How can I love when I am soe abus'd?
I cannot, Sir. You are too rough for mee.
I have a mind to keep my liberty.

Zor.
Your scorn too long does last. I cannot stay;
Therefore in vain my Pleasure you delay.

Cy.
Your Threatnings I scorn; I would have you know
I'me born with Majesty as well as you.

Zor.
Since soe ingrateful to my care you prove,
By Burning Stix I'le have thy life or Love.
Guards! seize that Witch there.
[Enter guards and seize uppon Cyane.
What think you? Speak. Will you love, or noe?

Poly.
O dread sir, what d'ye intend to doe?
«Heavens! What will my dear Phylander say?
When hee hears this—»

Zor.
Wee are soe kind, that yet repent and live.

Cy.
Noe, Tyrant, noe! Thou never shall'st forgive.
Base! mean spirited king! Thy Passions slave,
En'my to all who are truly good, and brave.
Do'st think thy guards can ever force my mind,
Or make mee ever otherwise inclin'd?
They sha'nt—Death is thy utmost, I am sure.
My soul and love are both above thy pow'r.

Poly.
«How gallantly she speaks! S'has mov'd mee too.»
Sir! Can such Beauty nothing with you doe?
Oh! as you ever hope eternall bliss,
Free this Fair Creature from her Miserys.
Look there, and if you ever lov'd, you must,
I'me sure, to soe much innocence bee just.

Cy.
Noe more, Fair Freind, I'le suffer all alone.
You'le make mee greive indeed, should you bemoan.
Let ye Old, Lustfull Tyrant have his Will,
Nor ever hinder him from doeing ill;
I know hee Longs my blushing blood to spill.

Zor.
Don't think, soe fair one, you shall still have life;
I never did intend thee for my wife.
Pale death would now a blessing to her bee;
Therefore she shall live, but live in misery.
Hence with her to ye darkest Cell I have,
And after that, perhaps unto her grave.
But first I will injoy, and then— [Offers to embrace.


Cy.
You mee enjoy? You ne're shall mee injoy.
Arm'd with this weapon, I thy hopes destroy.
[Plucks out a dagger.
Impotent Tyrant! I can brave thee now,
And dash thy love, with a contracted brow.
Is it for this you sent my Brother hence?
To kill his sister under Loves pretence?
For shame—
There's ne're a Tyrant of ye Former Age,
Exasperated even with malitious rage,
But blushing, would condemn when hee heard told
How you mee young did love, when you were old.

Zor.
Ye gods! Unhand her, slaves! shee must not dye;
She's guarded with too great a majesty.
«Who would have thought I could have cool'd soe fast
At a false woemans tears—for I'me sure they're false!
Soe dropping clouds doe lay ye strongest winds
And hollow ye weather'd stone.»
Quickly, yee Dogs!
Madam! can you forgive this crime in mee?

Cy.
I thank you, Sir, that you have set mee free.

Poly.
Now, Father, yourself a king you've shown,
Nor shall it ever bee by mee disown'd.
(To Cy.)
O my dear Freind! ye storm is now blown ore,
The Roaring Winds lay Breathless on ye shore,
And silent sigh that they can rage noe more.

Cy.
«This only Act of his mee more has mov'd
Than all his oaths, and vows before,
But yet I cannot love, nor can I bear
Any of's love intrigues again to hear.
I'de first submit to my severest hate.»
(To Zor.)
I merit not your love, nor, Sir, your hate.
Your Crown on mee you would but ill bestow;
Some Richer Beauty's destined for you.

Zor.
Madam, is't possible you still can hate?
Can all my service nought at all create?
Have I robb'd Heaven's gods for this?
Of all their tribute pray'r, consider—

Cy.
I'me sorry, Sir, I can't repay your love.
All your importunitys can't mee move.
Pity is all I can, Sir, to you give.

Zor.
I must have more, I can't on pity live.

Poly.
Father, you now grow old, you should not love.
'Tis enough for us that passion t'approved.
You should think of heaven, and your kinder stars.

Zor.
To ye great Heav'n love is ye only way:
Hee that goes any other, goes astray.
(To Cy.)
And this is mine—
For I am sure to her may bee given
All ye titles that are dewe to heaven.

Cy.
In vain you doe this Heaven bestow on mee
Which you will find a place of misery.
You'le find mee, too, as difficult to gain
As that great Heaven is. Nay, I'le maintain
Earths sons might scale ye Battlements of jove,
As soon as you ye Fortress of my Love. [Exit.


Zor.
Goe, daughter, follow her if you would save
Your now despairing Father from his grave.
Goe streight, and tell her that for her I dye;
Tell in what torments you did see mee lye.

Poly.
And will she love if I doe tell her soe?
I'le tell her all exactly as I know,
I'le tell her that you say you're mighty ill,
That her unkindness will at last you kill.

Zor.
Make hast, and presently your sister call.

Poly.
My sister too? Well, I'le remember all. [Exit.


Manet King Zoroastres solus.
Zor.
O baffled king! [Walks discontentedly about ye stage.

Won't she love? dare she tell it to my face?
Must all ye Kingdome know of my disgrace?
What doe they call mee king for, to bee fool'd?
Or that I should bee by my Love controul'd?
It shall not bee. I won't myself dethrone
To court a subject in my own dominion!
By all ye gods! I am resolv'd this night
To please myself and surfet in delight,
Or I'le break her heart.
I! who above and all below command,
Can fathom destiny and see ready stand
Myriads of spirits, yet can't conquer love.
All my great magick can't a woeman move.
It is impossible, do what e're you can,
A woeman th'rowly should bee tam'd by man. [Exit.


Enter Juliana and Polynice at severall doors. Juliana turns away as her sister speaks.
Poly.
Sister? Nay—sister—oh what have I done,
That you soe mightily should my presence shun?

Jul.
Sister?—Noe—you're unworthy of ye Name.
Degenerate Ofspring!

Poly.
What doe you mean?
What have I done? The only fault I know,
If 'tis a fault, is that I love you soe.

Jul.
What have you done? You've robb'd mee of my rest,
Made mee unhappy ever, and unblest.

Poly.
Oh! I?

Jul.
Despair is my companion in the day;
The Night with horrour too does pass away.
Strange visionary shapes doe murm'ring come;
Ghosts haunt my bed as if it were a Tombe.
With hollow groans they all beset mee round,
And I like Eccho answer to their sound.
Whil'st you Narcissus only doe enjoy,
To mee hee always is ye scornfull boy.
For your dear sake Narcissus only dyes, [Weeps.

And what hee lov'd before, does now despise;
Hee scorns to see his face in wat'ry eyes.
Hee'de still been mine, had it not been for you.
Still my dear Oroandes had been true.
But now, cruell sister, what have I done?

Poly.
With patience I have heard you this relate,
And am myself ye most unfortunate.
Heav'n knows that your suspitions are unjust;
If not mee, yet our Freindshipp you may trust.

Jul.
Why, don't you love Oroandes then?

Poly.
Noe,
I don't, yet—

Jul.
Hold, you'le kill mee if you speak,
But 'tis noe matter, for my heart will break.
«Yet! oh! too sure I am she loves him now.»
How could you tell mee that it was not soe?

Poly.
I never yet to him did seem soe kind.
Did you ever mee alone yet with him find?
Why then d'yee think I love him in my mind?
Leave then these raving thoughts which only bee
Th'effects of mad distracting jealousey.

Jul.
May I beleive that's reall what you say?

Poly.
May Heav'n else never hear mee when I pray,
When in this thing I am false to you,
Or if all that I have said, bee not trewe.

Jul.
O my dear sister, now I live again,
Now I am free from all tormenting pain.
Adewe—

Poly.
But I forgot to tell you,
The King our Father loves, and in's old age
Appears possessed with a Lover's rage.
Who d'yee think 'tis?

Jul.
Some Beauty, to bee sure.

Poly.
One that is not soe old as I, is she.

Jul.
Can you a yonger than yourself endure?

Poly.
The King will have it soe, and it must bee.
'Tis ye fair Cyane, and you're to speak.
Tell her ye King is dying for her sake;
But first you must have his commands.

Jul.
I'le goe,
And my obedience in my pity show. [Exit.


Poly.
Now to my love some idle hours I'le spend,
Think on ye tedious absence of my freind.
How long it seems since hee did leave this place!
Sure time grows old, and cannot mend his pace.
Heavens grant that hee may speedly return,
That I his absence may noe longer mourn;
For noe one knows but they who lovers are
Either what absence is or what despair.
Judge, all you lovers, I appeal to you,
What 'tis to love, and to bee absent too. [Exit.

[Scene II.]

Scaen ye Pallace.
Enter King Zoroastres.
Zor.
The Fatall hour is now approaching near,
On which my happiness, or her fate depends.
My love's soe high, I can noe longer stay.
If she was wise, she would not soe delay.
She fears my age, and yet she is how cold!
'Tis her damn'd Modesty that makes mee old.
With a false Majesty she braves my love
And talks as high as Goddesses above.
But my bright soul I'le rescue from her hand,
And plant it in more kind and fruitfull land.
To him Juliana.
Speak, messenger of fate, must wee live or noe?
Bee not affraid, but tell mee if 'tis soe.

Jul.
I'me sorry, Sir, that I am forc'd to bring
Soe cruell words from her to you, my King.
She says, by half she'de rather wed her grave
Than ever any of your embraces have.
She vows she cannot love.

Zor.
Then she shall dye.
Goe, bid her prepare herself instantly;
She has her wish. To her I'le bee soe kind:
Tell her ye grave her Husband is design'd.
Fool! to neglect my love, and then to dye,
As if ye grave was not as cold as I!

Jul.
You are a Monarck, Sir.

Zor.
I am. What then?

Jul.
You should not treat your loves as other men.

Zor.
I know ye Reason why she won't mee take,
She scorns mee only for Oroandes sake,
But I will—nay, she shall, I'me resolved, dye.

Jul.
Won't it seem, Sir, an Act of Cruelty?

Zor.
Noe, 'tis not! If she won't obey my will,
What cruelty is't if I her doe kill?

Jul.
Try gentle means first. Court her with your crown.
Put too all your glorious Titles on;
Fine things win woemen.

Zor.
I have already offer'd her my throne,
But she does scorn it. Therefore hold your peace,
For I'me resolv'd I'le poison her myself,
And she shall find, tho she bee proud and fair,
What angry and despairing Monarks dare. [Exit.


Manet Juliana. To her Cyane and Polynice.
Jul.
Did you not meet ye King? how did hee look?

Poly.
Sad omens from his countenance wee took.
Hee star'd uppon us, and walk'd still away,
Cursing ye Sun that hee did shine today.
Into a dismall Cave hee then did goe
Muttering—
“This night, this night I'le rid mee of my foe.”

Cy.
This storm, I know, is against mee design'd.
Hee thinks for to threaten mee to bee kind,
But hee shall know to my eternall fame
I only am a Woeman in my Name.

Poly.
By this, fair freind, yourself ye first you'le prove
That ever could resist a Monarks love.
I wish my Father would more calmer bee
And not use force to love, which is born free.

Jul.
That you doe love elsewhere, if hee but knew,
And Oroandes, perhaps hee would leave you.
Because by him you are beloved too.

Poly.
Fye, sister, 'tis poor to laugh at misery
And below your self.

Cy.
Hah! fair, handsome Princess, you doe not know
But I may have his love as well as you.
I do not question, mee tho hee should hate,
But that on you hee would revenge my fate.
Yet, if he wont, I'me sure that Heaven will;
Heaven hates bloud, and will revenge it still.
Ther's ne're a god but will my cause defend;
Therefore repent before they thunder send.

Jul.
Repentence only does belong to you.
If I were to dye, I'de repent then too.

Enter Trivia.
Tri.
Your Father does your presence hence require,
And from Cyane that you'de now retire.

Poly.
Oh my prophetick fears! Fair soul, farewell.
I fear that you'le on Earth noe longer dwell.

Tri.
Make hast. Your father said you should make hast,
And not your time in idle prayers wast.

Cy.
O help mee, Polynice, before you goe,
To teach my dying soul what she must doe.

Poly.
Your life soe strict and soe exactly here
You have led, that you need not shed a tear.
With this embrace you have my last farewell.

Cy.
«The word departure bares a sence of hell.
I see my fate stand yonder with a Bowl
Ten thousand spirits waiting for my soul.»
(To Poly.)
'Tis hard to dye, but much more hard to part;
Methinks I goe as if I had noe heart.
Oh my sick soul! but, Madam, all is past,
And now I'me resolv'd to dye at last.

Poly.
Blest soul! you'le now forever live above.
Bee ever happy in seraphick love.

Jul.
I dare noe longer stay. Rivall, farewell,
And your wrong'd love in ye Elysium tell.

Poly.
Again farewell! Don't fear by death you'le prove
Yourself a Martyr in ye flames of love.
Heav'n thinks you're dead, and with its loudest bell
[Thunders and Lightens.
Already has begun your Funerall Knell. [Exeunt.

[Scene III.]

The Scene changes [to a Palace Chamber.]
Cyane is discovered laying on a couch with a book in her hand. Two tapers burning by her.
A terrible Clap of thunder is heard. Severall streams of fire cross ye stage, and ye Heavens open, from which a spirit descends, and sings.
Song.

Hee flys up singing. Soft Musick is heard all ye time, and ye Heavens close again with thunder.
Cyane rises from her Couch.
Cy.
Hah! drops of bloud! my end does now draw nigh,
And I perceive by this, that I must dye.
Welcome then fate, but know thou can'st not fright,
With all thy spirits and with masqued Night,
My soul, when she is cloth'd with glorious light.
Enter ye King Zoroastres with a Bowl.
Come, Tyrant, come. What makes you soe delay?
You have your wish. There's nere a sun today.

Zor.
Madam, I come your Answer now to take,
Which will mee happy or you wretched make.
Cru'lty and Blood I hate, but must them use
If you my offers doe again refuse.
But come! I know by this you 'ave chang'd your mind;
I'me sure you are too wise to bee unkind.

Cy.
Ah, cruell Tyrant! doe you think wee can
Bee ever kind to a hard hearted man?
'Tis lust predominates thy deformed will,
For Love, I'me sure, is more courteous still.

Zor.
'Tis you that makes mee such hard measures take,
And I am only cruell for your sake.
Nothing shall bee more calm if you'le but love;
Try mee and see how gentle I will prove.
Come, Madam, come. Bee not I gentle now?
What is it more that you would have mee doe?

Cy.
Ah, Sir, I'me sorry that it is too late,
For I am now resolved on my fate.
Yes, Sir, I am resolv'd.

Zor.
To love?

Cy.
To dye.
I shall obleige you, Sir, to Cruellty,
Your dear Attribute. Come!

Zor.
Then take thy fate,
Mix't with th'ingredients of a lovers hate.
[Gives her ye Bowl. She drinks.
'Tis ye first thing I e're to you did give,
And am proud, Madam, that you'le it receive.
Will you accept too, Madam, of my Heart?
I'me mighty liberall before wee part.

Cy.
Soe—now I shall bee free from all thy rage,
From all ye dull, insipid thoughts of age,
But stay—I have not yet of Heaven thought.
It will not kill mee yet, I hope.
B' you sure 'tis death what here to mee you've brought?

Zor.
Not fate herself can kill more sure than I;
Therefore prepare, and bee resolv'd to dye.
But yet, lest death should seem serene and kind,
Remember what dear things you've left behind:
Mother! Sister! the world itself, nay all
That you excessive or could happy call.
Remember these, and then if you dare, dye.

Cy.
My soul above such thoughts as these must fly.
But goe, that I may have this hour alone
And all ye crimes of my past life bemoan.
Oh!—now it gripes!

Zor.
Then I see 'twas good
And was not cheated in't.

Cy.
Heavens! I feel it raging in my blood.
Tyrant! Curst Devill! goe, I hate your sight.

Zor.
Soe! these are good dying prayers.

Cy.
What harm did ever I yet doe to you,
That your revenge you should with death pursue?
Know this—
If e're a star I should in Heaven bee,
Thou too shall'st dye by th'influence of mee.

Zor.
Thy crimes will hinder thee from coming there,
Nor doe I thy poysoning influence fear.
Thou can'st not kill, thy beauty now is gone;
Noe eyes will dazell at a setting sun.

Cy.
Upbraiding King! unworthy of thy crown,
How long is't since thou tremblest at my frown?
Soe great and ill thy crimes have been to mee
That at my death they can't forgiven bee.
But oh! I come. I can noe longer stay.
[Sinks on her Couch.
Time calls mee on and hastens mee away.
I goe, I goe, but whither I don't know,
Whether 'tis above, or whether 'tis below. [Dyes.


Zor.
Soe now my quiet, sure, I shall possess.
There's none can now disturb my Happiness.
The Conquering Princes too for fear shall bee
At their return imprisoned by mee.
Hah! allready I hear their trumpets sound
And neighing horses trampling on ye ground.
But oh ingratitude! forgive mee now,
'Tis for my interest to have it soe.
A troubl'd mind this action cannot bring;
'Tmust bee a stout conscience concerns a King. [Exit.