 | The Royall Slave |  |
Sce. 6.
To him Hippias, Phocion.Hip.
Looke, there he walkes alone considering;
Let's to him while we may; good day Cratander.
Crat.
Good Hippias, Phocion! you are welcome; how
Dare you trust your selves in an Enemies Court?
Pho.
We passe disguis'd to see what will become
Of our Affayres; and being the future state
Of Ephesus depends on you, are come
Only to give you notice of it, for
We doe presume you're not to be intreated
To doe us good.
Crat.
Alas! I am not, after
The period of three dayes; this makes the time
Which even now I thought an age, seeme short
And too contract for my desires.
Pho.
When you
Should raise your Country struggling in the dust,
The time is short, and too contract; 'tis long
Enough to lead an Army out against it,
To crush those Reliques of an halfe-life, that
Her doubtfull body faintly breaths; you may
With that right hand spin three dayes to the space
Of many Olympiads.
Crat.
What is your meaning?
Pho.
Have we endur'd the hate, and felt the fury
Of violent Arsamnes so long? have we
Suffer'd his sword untill it did grow blunt,
And rather broke, then wounded? have you try'd
The weight and strictnesse of the Persian chayne
Come, come Cratander, I could chide you, but
That I beleeve you only hide the good
That you intend your Country, that it may not
Be disappointed; you may safely tell us
You will betray the Persians into our hands,
That we may gather forces, and prepare
Against their comming.
Crat.
Oh! is this your Errant?
Here, take your chayne againe, it cannot binde.
Hip.
How e're don't exprobrate our Poverty,
Though all our wealth hath been the Persians spoyle.
Crat.
Why you threw't in before you, to make way
Unto your Suit.
Hip.
Is it not lawfull to
Salute the Persian Mock-King, thinke y', unlesse
We bring a Guift? I'd thought the name of Ephesus.
Had priviledg'd our accesse. Thinke on the honours,
The long continuing honours, that you shall
Receive at home; thinke on those numerous teares
That you shall wipe away from flowing Eyes,
At the first sight of Liberty.
Pho.
Your approach
Will entice Cities out of Houses; th'aged,
And the young too; the Matron, and the Virgin,
All mingled in a blest confusion,
Will in a solemne full Procession come,
And with that great Religion bring you in,
As if their Captive Gods were brought them backe.
Come then a King home, that went'st out a Slave.
Crat.
I am so still; no sooner did I come
Within the Persian Walles, but I was theirs.
And since, good Hippias, this pow'r hath only
Added one linke more to the Chayne. I am
Become Arsamnes Instrument: I've sworne
Faith to his Scepter and himselfe, and must
Aske his leave, e're I doe betray his Country.
Hip.
You're free enough against us. O the justice
Ought that be ratify'd that's done by force?
Crat.
As if the valiant could be forc'd by any.
Pho.
You shall not change your fortune, you shall only
Passe to another Empire; and for that
Right may be violated.
Crat.
Empires are
Desir'd for glory; be all wickednesse then
Farre absent, for in that there can be none.
Pho.
You are resolv'd to reason your selfe then
Into a measur'd unthankefulnesse? what can
Hinder this good t'your Country, but your selfe?
Fear'st thou the Thunder, and the Gods? the anger
O'th' Grecian Pow'rs will be upon thee, if
Thou not restor'st them to their seats. On then,
Thou undertak'st their cause, thou fight'st their warre.
Crat.
I cannot tell what powers you pretend;
Tell me of Justice and Fidelity,
These are the Grecian Gods.
Pho.
Be then thy name
Blasted to all Posterity, and let
Our wretched Nephewes, when their Soules shall labour
Under the Persian Yoake, curse thee, and say,
This slavery we owe unto Cratander.
Crat.
Pray stay, I will goe with you, and consider,
How am I streightned! Life is short unto me:
And th'good man's End ought still to be a businesse.
We must dy doing something, least perhaps
We loose our Deaths; we must not yet doe ill
That we misplace not Action: If I strike
On this hand, I'm a Parricide; if on that,
The same brand waytes me too: how doe I tremble,
Like to the doubtfull Needle 'twixt two Loadstones,
At once inclining unto both, and neither!
Here Piety calls me, there my Justice stops me.
It is resolv'd; Faith shall consist with both;
And aged Fame after my Death shall tell,
Betwixt two sinnes, Cratander did do well.
[Exeunt:
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