University of Virginia Library

Act I.

Darius.
What thund'ring pow'r grown jealous of my state,
Which (having daunted th'earth) perchance heaven fears
Thus arm'd with lightning, breathing flames of hate,
Big with disdaine, high indignation beares?
Long smooth'd of all, whilst I (pale cares despis'd)
In fortunes lap asleep, of greatnesse dream'd,
Even in that calme, my state a storme surpris'd,
And ere I wak't, my ruine was proclam'd;
Thus I, whose onely name did terrour give
(As Idoll of the world,) ador'd over all,
(With crosses compass'd,) such a wretch doe live,
That who admir'd my might, admire my fall;
Ah, then indeed I fell, when gallants stood,
And Phœnix-like renew'd their lives by death;
Who having seal'd their force, and faith, with bloud,
Would rather dye, then draw a borrowed breath;
Yet I, not I, did view, not venge (though neare)
Those monstrous mountaines of my Subjects slaine,
Though even my enemies must my courage cleare,
Which flames of fury lightned forth in vaine;
Through greatest dangers, death I did pursue,
Till heapes of slaughtred bodies barr'd my way,
And chang'd my Chariot to a scarlet hue,
Ere wounded honour could be drawne away;
O how I envy yet their happy Ghosts,
Who dy'd whilst hope of victory remain'd,
And in the presence of two famous hosts,
To praise their valour, even their foes constrain'd:
Shall I survive that memorable shame,
Which Persia's glory with disgrace confin'd?
No, rather let me dye, and let my name
As vaine, quite vanish, raz'd from every minde.
Starre-boasting Babylon, all Asia's Queene,
Blush to behold thy King in such a state,
That by the gazing world he now is seene,
(A scorned suter) humbly to entreate;
But not turn'd vassall, as by pow'r appall'd;
Though all my Empire to a period come,
Yet none shall vaunt that ever I was thrall'd:
“Hearts holding courage, are not quite o're-come.
Should I whose Soveraignty so oft was sworne,
Be seene submisse to scape a minutes paines,
No, let them bow, who but to bow were borne:
For Darius this indignity disdaines,
Since I was once judg'd worthy to command,
Shall I descend a Subjects state to try?
No, whilst a sword yeelds homage to this hand,
I scorne to grant a greater man then I.
Brave sprites, who now possesse the pleasant bow'rs,
And glorious Gardens of th'Elysian Plaines,
(For, (if deserts may move th'infernall pow'rs)
That happy shade your shadowes now containes)
Those fatall fields where I did leade you forth,
Your bodies bury, but enlarge your fames,
Men shall adore the relickes of your worth,
And Trophees reare to your immortall names;
I'le sacrifice as Incense to your soules,
His dying sighes, and sorrowing Parents teares,
Who now, whilst none his prospering pride controules,
Our conquer'd Ensignes in his triumph beares:
For, it may ease your Ghosts to heare his grones,
Whilst burden'd earth rebounding backe doth send
A wailing eccho (rais'd from woods and stones,)
With wounded words to shew that Armies end.
Why spend I speeches to disturbe your rest,
As but with words (an idle speaker) pleas'd?
A mighty fury hath enflam'd my brest,
And I will rage, till by revenge appeas'd.
Did I that strong Cadusian first afront,
Who durst advance himselfe to brave our bands,
Then turn'd applauded, and in high account,
Charg'd with his spoiles, the honour of my hands?
What, could I then (all kinde of doubt remov'd)
Alone adventure to an Armies shame?
And should I now (that ancient praise disprov'd)
With squadrons compass'd, lose that glorious name?
Blinde fortune, O! thy stratagems are strange!
Which spoile my pow'r, and staine my honour too,
And (having made my state the stage of change)
Hast acted all was in thy power to doe;
Loe, I, who late of swarming troups did boast,
Neere left alone, have fortunes fraud disclos'd;
And those made captives whom I fancy most,
To vaunting Victors are by fates expos'd:
O torment but to thinke, death to beleeve,
That any may my dearest part annoy,
And I, wretch'd I, not able to releeve
Mine eyes chiefe jewell, and my hearts chiefe joy,
Deare object of my thoughts, my life, my love,
Sweet Spring of my delights, my one, my all,
Bright image of th'excellencies above,
What? do'st thou breath, and com'st not when I call?
And can I be, and not be where thou art?
Hath heaven the force me from thy face to barre?
Or are my hands growne traitours to my heart?
That they should shrinke from doing what it dare:
O! could my minde but distribute a space
Those emulating thoughts which tosse my brest,
To pointlesse ciphers, who but spend a place,
Then I alone might animate the rest;
Since in this great disgrace, I chanc'd to fall,
Now nothing rests to raise my fame forlorne,
But by some desperate course to hazard all;
I'le live with praise, or by my death flye scorne;
Some prosp'rous issue afterward may purge
This crime which fortune hath impos'd on me,
This crime that carryes with it selfe a scourge:
No greater torment then the want of thee;
“But fortunes course, what mortall can restraine,
“Who Diadems through dust for sport doth roule?
A stranger now o're my delights doth raigne,
And may extort the treasures of my soule;
Now, not till now, I apprehend my harmes,
When I imagine how my best belov'd
Must entertaine mine enemy in her armes,
And I so farre from offering ayde remov'd;
A host of furies in my brest I finde,
Which doe my soule with dreadfull horrours fill,
Whilst Melancholy musters in my minde
Strange apprehensions that affright me still;
And this surmiz'd disgrace, grown throughly strong,
Reades hourely in mine eares a hatefull scroule
Of an imagin'd, yet a helpelesse wrong,
Such poison'd thoughts like Serpents sting my soule;
Blinde love beguiles me not, sharpe sighted feares
With reason fed, doe make suspition live:
Would God that I had neither eyes nor eares,
Which to the heart intelligence might give;
This aggravates the weight of my despaire,
When doubt objects to breake loves last defence,
How he is yong and fierce, she yong and faire,
He to offend, she subject to offence;
From wronging me, both cannot long abstaine:
Her beauty is sufficient to allure,
His bravery is sufficient to obtaine.
“Captaines will force, and Captives must endure.
O Alexander, tender my renowne,
Though thus thou travell to usurpe my throne,
“I rage to have a rivall in my Crowne,
“But in my love I can comport with none,
That boundlesse flame which in thy bosome boyles,
If quench'd with ought save bloud (as base) I blame:
My fortunes take, but spare her honours spoiles,
Which not thy glory, yet must breed our shame.
But pardon deare that which griev'd thoughts burst sorth,
More bright thy fame, that darkened is my state,
“By many meanes men may approve their worth:
“A woman onely with a wretched mate:
“Chast mindes still pure, doe then most firmely stand,
“When fortifi'd with wedlockes sacred band.
Yet let me doubt, or let me leave to love,
“To feare the worst it is affections part:
I doubt not of thy truth; yet it may prove
Thy face betray thy faith, thy hap thy heart;
But on thy worth my confidence relyes,
This doth dissolve suspitions power againe;
I will repell reports as stand'rous lyes,
Which would my judgement, or thy vertue staine.
Though fortune now my ruine doth designe,
Yet, with that traitresse scorne to be conjur'd,
She soone may helpe her fault, thou never thine:
“No helpe for honours wounds, all else are cur'd.

Chorus.