University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Prusias, Arsinoe, Nicomede, Araspes, Guards.
Arsin.
Pardon Sir, Pardon for our onely stay:
Pardon for Laurels are so fertile grown;
Pardon for the Supporter of your Throne,
Pardon—

Nico.
For what Madam? Three Kingdoms won,
Which my death must devolve upon your Son?
For having so far prest your conquering Arms,
That even Rome has taken the Alarms:
For having too much Regal Power sustain'd,
For that Renown I through the world have gain'd,
For having with Success and Glory fought,
Following the Maxims my great Master taught,
If I want Pardon choose 'mongst these my Crimes;
I know no more, Madam, unless you'l joyn,
That Villains (by some others gain'd) betraid
My easie Faith to credit what they said.
That having a clear Soul free from deceit,
I wanted light to see into their cheat.
'Tis glory this, and not a crime for one
Who lives in Camps, where no Court Tricks are known;
Who scorning baseness, does not Thunder fear,
And knows no Stratagems, but those of War.

Arsin.
Sir, I recant: he cannot guilty be,
Loading me with eternal Infamy,
He onely does that common Hate obey,
Men to the odious Name of Step-dame pay,
That Humour having in his heart took Root,
He does to me the strokes of Fate impute.
Does Hannibal his Master (having here
The Publique Faith) give up himself to fear,
And rather trust his Life and Liberty
To black Despair, than Hospitality?
Those Terrors which his doting Soul invade,
Are onely Plots by me before-hand laid.
Though he such Charms in Laodice espies,
'Tis I make Attalus see with the same eyes,
'Tis I the Aids of Rome against him gain'd,
And all that wounds him issues from this hand.
But though to blemish h' attempted have,
That Master to revenge, that Mistress save,
All might be pardon'd in a Jealous Lover,
But I do something more in this discover;
'Twas not his Love that foster'd this Design,
That I'm your Wife, Sir, is my greatest Crime.
From that Name onely springs this Calumny,
For else, in short, what can he charge on me?
Have I since first your Armies he did command,
Deny'd th'assistance both of Voice and Hand?
Have I refus'd him that Renown was due?
And when he stood in need of Aids from you,
And might have perisht had they been delay'd,
Who better prest that necessary Aid?
Sent him quick Succors, both of Men and Treasure.
And to supply his Wants, made it my pleasure;
You know this, Sir, but see he does return
For all that I have done, Reproach and Scorn.
To rob me of your love, has scandal us'd,
But still in Jealous Lovers all's excus'd:
I say't again—

Prus.
What answer canst thou make?

Nico.

Arsin.
How Sir, would you destroy 'um for that truth,
Which Heaven did suddenly put in their mouth,
That truth which does restore to you your Wife,
Cancels her Scandals, and secures her Life?
That truth which did your Sentence, Sir, suspend,
Whilst for my Int'rest he does this pretend?
You have no Cunning, Prince, no Court tricks know.

Prus.
Leave'um, and of your own Defence think now,
Purge your self of a Crime so base and low.

Nico.
I purge my self, you cannot Sir, think so,
You know too well those of my Dignity
When they grow guilty, aim at things more high;
Their Failings like their Glories are sublime,
And with their Pow'r they do protect their Crime.
T'have rais'd your People, brought your Army here,
In an opprest Queens In'trests to appear,
Snatcht her from hence in spite of Rome, or you,
Or all that Attalus Rivalship could do,
And of their Tyrannies have stopt the course,
With all your own, and all Armenia's Force,
Had been fit Crimes for such a Soul as mine,
If I a breach of Duty could design.
Mean Spirits for Revenge use to defame,
And 'tis most properly the Womans Game.
'Gainst those Impostors then your Sentence give,
For my sake, or the Queens they ought not live.
At the last moment, men with Heaven make peace,
Truth best appears when Worldly Int'rests cease,
And those base spirits when about to die,
Perhaps may once more what they said, deny.

Arsin.
Ah Sir!

Nico.
Pray Madam, the true Cause declare,
Why you should press so hard these Lives to spare;
Or let us think you fear, lest dying they
Might out of conscience some close Plots convey.

Arsi.
What hate than this Sir, can more cruel be?
Whilst I'de acquit him, he accuses me.
But Sir, perhaps my presence whers his Rage,
I by my absence may these Heats asswage,
And quieting a Spirit soar'd so high,
Prevent those Crimes at which he yet may flie.
I will not ask that Pity should procure
For my protection, you a Crown secure.
Nor do I seek my Attalus to save,
That he should half of your Dominions have.
If that your Roman Friends request it so,
I never did of their Intentions know.
They with their Pow'rs may favor still my Son,
But I shall need no Aids when you are gone,
I love too well Sir, not to follow you,
When in these arms you pay to Fates their due,
Upon your Tomb my Love's last Duty, Grief,
At once shall sacrifice my Tears and Life.

Prus.
Ah Madam!

Arsin.
Yes Sir, when that time shall come,
Your Destiny and mine shall be but one.
Then since he never shall my Soveraign be,
What should I fear? what can he do to me?
All that I ask in favor of that Gage,
That Son, who does so much his hate engage,
Is that he may return to Rome, and there
Finish his days under that Senates care;
To whom you did commit his Youth, and be
A weak Remembrance of your love to me;
This Prince will serve you better than before,
When Jealousies shall wound his Thoughts no more.
And fear not Sir, though thus you Rome defie,
For all her Power his Valour is too high.
The Secrets of great Hannibal he knows,
From whom Rome did receive such mighty blows,
Africk and Asia yet admiring stand,
At those renown'd Advantages he gain'd
For Carthage and Antiochus. But now
I go Sir, and the liberty allow
To your Paternal Goodness, to improve
The tenderness of Nature, and of Love:
I must not longer in your Presence see
Myself unworthily reproached be.
Nor would I move your anger against one
Who is your Valiant, and your Conquering Son.