University of Virginia Library

Scæna. 3,

Olympia
alone.
Distrest Olympia, whose weeping eies
Since thy arriuall here beheld no Sun,
But closde within the compasse of a tent,
Hath stain'd thy cheekes, & made thee look like death
Deuise some meanes to rid thee of thy life.
Rather than yeeld to his detested suit,
Whose drift is onely to dishonor thee.
And since this earth, dew'd with thy brinish teares,
Affoords no hearbs, whose taste may poison thee,
Nor yet this aier, beat often with thy sighes,
Contagious smels, and vapors to infect thee,
Nor thy close Caue a sword to murther thee,
Let this inuention be the instrument.

Enter Theridamas.
The.
Wel met Olympia, I sought thee in my tent
But when I saw the place obscure and darke,
Which with thy beauty thou wast woont to light,
Enrag'd, I ran about the fields for thee,
Supposing, amorous Ioue had sent his sonne,
The winged Hermes, to conuay thee hence:
But now I finde thee, and that feare is past.
Tell me Olympia, wilt thou graunt my suit?

Olym.
My Lord and husbandes death, with my sweete sons,
With whom I buried al affections,
Saue griefe and sorrow which torment my heart,
Forbids my mind to entertaine a thought
That tends to loue, but meditate on death,
A fitter subiect for a pensiue soule.

Ther.
Olympia, pitie him, in whom thy looks
Haue greater operation and more force
Than Cynthias in the watery wildernes,
For with thy view my ioyes are at the full,
And eb againe, as thou departst from me.

Olim.
Ah, pity me my Lord, and draw your sword,
Making a passage for my troubled soule,
Which beates against this prison to get out,
And meet my husband and my louing sonne.

ther.
Nothing, but stil thy husband and thy sonne?
Leaue this my Loue, and listen more to me,
Thou shalt be stately Queene of faire Argier,
And cloth'd in costly cloath of massy gold,
Upon the marble turrets of my Court
Sit like to Venus in her chaire of state,
Commanding all thy princely eie desires,
And I will cast off armes and sit with thee,
Spending my life in sweet discourse of loue.

Olym.
No such discourse is pleasant in mine eares,
But that where euery period ends with death,
And euery line begins with death againe:
I cannot loue to be an Emperesse.

ther.
Nay Lady, then if nothing wil preuaile,
Ile vse some other means to make you yeeld,
Such is the sodaine fury of my loue,
I must and wil be pleasde, and you shall yeeld:
Come to the tent againe.

Olym.
Stay good my Lord, and wil you saue my honor,
Ile giue your Grace a present of such price,
As all the world cannot affoord the like.

ther.
What is it.

Olym.
An ointment which a cunning Alcumist
Distilled from the purest Balsamum,
And simplest extracts of all Minerals,
In which the essentiall fourme of Marble stone,
Tempered by science metaphisicall,
And Spels of magicke from the mouthes of spirits,
With which if you but noint your tender Skin,
Nor Pistol, Sword, nor Lance can pierce your flesh.

Ther.

Why Madam, thinke ye to mocke me thus
palpably?

Olim.
To prooue it, I mil noint my naked throat,
Which when you stab, looke on your weapons point,
And you shall se't rebated with the blow.

ther.

Why gaue you not your husband some of it, if
you loued him, and it so precious?

Olym.
My purpose was (my Lord) to spend it so,
But was preuented by his sodaine end.
And for a present easie proofe hereof,
That I dissemble not, trie it on me,

ther.
I wil Olympia, and will keep it for
The richest present of this Easterne world.

She noints her throat.
Olym.
Now stab my Lord, and mark your weapons point
That wil be blunted if the blow be great.

ther.
Here then Olympia.
What, haue I slaine her? Uillaine, stab thy selfe:
Cut off this arme that murthered my Loue:
In whom the learned Rabies of this age,
Might find as many woondrous myracles,
As in the Theoria of the world.
Now Hell is fairer than Elisian,
A greater Lamp than that bright eie of heauen,
From whence the starres doo borrow all their light,
Wanders about the black circumference,
And now the damned soules are free from paine,
For euery Fury gazeth on her lookes:
Infernall Dis is courting of my Loue,
Inuenting maskes and stately showes for her,
Opening the doores of his rich treasurie,
To entertaine this Queene of chastitie,
Whose body shall be tomb'd with all the pompe
The treasure of my kingdome may affoord.

Exit, taking her away.