University of Virginia Library

The Fourth Act:

Scene 1st.

Enter Annibal and Serena.
Annib.
Then you confess you did bespeak the Picture?
Gods! and you own you Love him! Love the Traitor?

Seren.
Call him not Traitor, Annibal, he who spoke
The kindest things of you.

Annib.
Wondrous kind!
Accurst dissembler! That could speak for me,
But acted for himself.

Seren.
Just contrary.
For when by signs, which passion could not hide,
I let him know my Love; he turn'd away,
Shaking his head as loth to understand me,
Anger and pitty combating in his Face,
And with his blushes taught Serena shame.

Annib,
Shameless himself, and Traitor to my friendship!
For all I have heard, your Love has forg'd to save him.

Seren.
Heav'n knows 'tis true! Nothing was left unsaid,
To his own disgrace and your Immortal Honour:
In the most melting Terms and sweetest words
That Heart could think, or Friendship could invent:
Therefore forgo my Lord, this fruitless passion,
And speak for Crispus as he spoke for you.

Annib.
I will; and speak so loud the Gods shall hear me:
There! Take his Picture, feed your hungry passion,
Till with my Sword I carve another feast,
To glut your fatal Eyes—

Seren.
Hold; Whither go you?
And what fierce purpose has your Heart in hand?

Annib.
I'll tell thee: And if possible force a warmth
In that cold Breast; kindle a dying spark,
In that inhospitable Land of Love;
And never see thee more—I go to die,
To blot my youth and glory from the World;
Tho Conquest waits my Sword, I swear to die,
And make thee sport with my untimely fall.

Seren.
To die! By whom? For what?

Annib.
For Love of thee.
But if I suffer by the Hand of Crispus,
And perjury should prosper in my ruine.
Then you may revel in each others Arms,
And laugh indeed at my ridiculous fortune.
Yet, if revenging Ghosts have power to rise,
Expect me at the Riot of your joys:
With hollow Eyes, to stare you in the Face,
At midnight, look to have your Curtains drawn;
Expect me in your Bed, a Coarse of clay,
To clasp your trembling Limbs with cold embraces,
And print my gelid kisses on your Lips,
So to revenge my death upon your scorn,
And groan about you till the dawning morn—

Exit.
Seren.
Stay—and I'll tell thee; 'tis impossible—
Crispus already is in Love with Fausta—
He's gone to the execution of his purpose—
And Crispus must be slain: Why then my Hour.
Of Fate is come: What's that to Crispus murder?
He's gone to fight; perhaps not give him leave,
But take the Innocent at unawares;
Haste after him, and by thy own destruction,
Prevent both ruins, follow the fate that wafts thee,
And let no interrupter cross thy passage.

Exit.
Enter Constantine, Sylvester, Dalmatius.
Const.
Were you both Fathers, and in Love like me;
I no more doubt, what you would put in Act,
Than now I doubt my self, who am resolv'd.

Dalm.
On what?

Const.
On Death.

Sylv.
Of whom?

Const.
Of any man
That knows, yet hides this secret Treason from me.

Dalm.
Has Crispus own'd he Lov's her?

Const.
Yes, in effect;
For when I first reveal'd this contract to him,
He stopt me from enjoying her with Oaths.
He knew her false, forsworn: To whom? To him;
To him himself: For this last night I prov'd;
Drawing the secret from her by a wile,
Which she before as craftily conceal'd.

Dalm.
But have you married and enjoy'd her, Sir?

Const.
O no; the Ceremonies and the dues,
Without a blush were frontlesly deny'd:
In all the Heat of boyling Love deny'd:
Not only from possessing her that night,
But, matchless impudence! deny'd for ever:
Now judge if 'tis not fit I should let go
The strugling Thunder, and destroy 'em both.

Dalm.
Not both—for yet you have not heard your Son;
Hear him but plead—

Const.
Then let him plead in time.
Ex. Dalm.
The Bolts are brandish't, and 'twill be too late,
To lift his blasted hands, when I have hurl'd.

Sylv.
How far Sir, would your utmost search extend?

Const.
To know if Actually they have embrac'd
Each other, as in will th' have done already.

Sylv.
Be not too hasty in your Answer Sir,
If I should ask what then; What then must follow?

Const.
Death certain, on the instant; imminent Death;
Death; And I swear not all the Gods shall save him.

Sylv.
Ruin of piety! Not all the Gods!
That your Religion?

Const.
Oh forgive me, Saint,
I am eaten up with passion: So o're-wrought,
With racking Love I knew not what I said.
But if he has enjoyed her: By that power
Whom thou remember'st well, I now adore.
His Death must wash th' incestuous Guilt away.

Sylv.
Not Incest, Sir?

Const.
Not if he has enjoy'd her?

Sylv.
No: for to prove the Guilt compleated Incest,
You must have married and enjoy'd her first.

Const.
True; but what makes his Crime deserving Death
More than imputed Treason, Incest, all;
All Faults by Art and Nature joyn'd in one.
If he has touch'd her, she must ne're be mine;
And that's a Cause so pointing to his Fate,
That Death's their due that offer to excuse him.

Silv.
He comes.—I'm silenc'd. Nature, now or never.

Enter Crispus and Dalmatius.
Crisp.
O Emperour! for I dare not call you Father,
Behold me at your Feet prepar'd for Death.

Const.
O Crispus! for I must not call thee Son,
Justice surveys thee as a Criminal.
But rise then and speak; plead like a Man for Life.
Come on, and look thy Father in the Face;
I call thee Traitor, and I'll prove thee one,
Who impiously, for all my former Love,
Hast dar'd to violate my sacred Bed.
Now answer Criminal. What canst thou say
That Sentence should not pass upon thy Treason?

Crisp.
Most aweful Emperor, my Judge and Father!
Father, alas! I would have offer'd first.
But since you are not pleas'd it should be so,
I'll do as Criminals use, and you command:
Thus plead my Innocence at your Judgment-Bar;
If either, Sir, I saw or lov'd the Princess,
You were the only Cause, 'twas you that sent me:
So far from once but hinting this your Contract,
You told me Sir, her Fate was yet in doubt;
Which made me wonder when I saw the Virgin,
So innocent, so beautiful, so young:
Which Charms did more my Admiration move;
Wonder begot my Pity; that my Love.

Const.
But if I told you that her Fate was doubtful,
I told you too, she was a Foe to Rome;
Therefore, to think of loving her was Treason.

Crisp.
If Love be Treason, Sir, I own I am guilty;
Guilty indeed; because it was a fault,
In any Case to wed without your Knowledge:
But yet I hop'd, in time you might forgive me;
And so my Conscience tells me still you would,
Had you not been engag'd your self before.

Const.
Rebellion, not thy Pardon, was thy Thought:
If otherwise, how canst thou answer Traitor,
For not confessing all when first I met thee?

Crisp.
Pardon me Sir, for that I had done too,
Had you not told me first you were betroth'd;
But conscious then, how closely I was link'd,
I durst not tempt your Wrath.

Const.
How closely, Traitor! Hast thou then enjoy'd her?

Crisp.
Can you forgive me?

Const.
No. By this shaking Flesh
Tho there thy Mother kneelt too by thy side.
If thou hast touch'd her, Death and Curses on thee.

Crisp.
Oh by those Knees and Hands which I must hold,
Racks, Racks, and Death; but not your Curses, Sir.

Const.
If thou would'st have my Blessing, swear then, swear
Thou hast not enjoy'd her.

Crisp.
Swear then to forgive me.

Const.
Forgive thee, Villain! if thou hast possest her,
Speak, or be curst.

Crisp.
I will: but give me time.

Const.
Let go. What time? Thou hast confess'd already
By that Demand; I swear thou hast enjoy'd her.

Crisp.
Swear not, and I'll confess this Moment.

Const.
What!

Crisp.
O Heav'n,
What if your Son has plighted holy Vows?

Const.
Why then I make that Vow and Marriage vain.
Therefore, if thou hast not embrac'd her yet,
I charge thee, on my Blessing, never hope it,
Nor ever think of loving her again.

Crisp.
Impossibilities! Were you a God,
And doom'd me thus, I could not, Sir, obey you:
For I have sworn to love her while I have Life;
And if I love her I must hope Enjoyment.

Const.
Death then and Curses on thy Disobedience!
Off Villain! Traitor! grovel there on Earth.
What, are you Plotters too? nay, then 'tis time
To haste his Ruine. Ruine is thy doom;
And wing'd with all my Curses it shall come.

Ex. with Dalm. & Sylvester.
Crisp.
Dalmatius and Sylvester! Call him back,
And I'll renounce my Love: Heav'n 'tis too much!
But hark! I hear a Voice cry, Crispus come,
Come to the thoughtless Grave where all is still.
It shall be so: up then, and fall a Man.
Come forth, thou Minister of others Fates,
And be thy Masters now! Where art thou, Fausta?
Where is my Love to close my dying Eyes?

Enter Annibal.
Annib.
Ha, Traitor! Art thou then prepar'd for Death?

Crisp.
Yes Annibal, I will receive it calmly,
From any Hand but thine. What have I done
That he should call me Traitor?

Annib.
Guard thy self,
Or else by Heav'n thou dy'st.

Crisp.
Hold. Is't possible! so quickly?
Can the desire of Empire lose a Friend!
My Father I offended, but not Thee;
Execute then the Ruine which he dooms,
Ungrateful Man. I will not make Defence,
But spread my Arms t'embrace the Death he sends me.

Annib.
What thou deserv'st from him I neither know
Nor care, resolv'd upon my own Revenge;
Not but I think the Man who did his Friend
So horrible a Wrong as thou hast done,
Is fit for any Mischief. Therefore guard thee.

Crisp.
Never to fight with thee; not tho my Father
Should grant my Love. Therefore I sheath my Sword.

Annib.
Traytor, Coward.

Crisp.
Oh Annibal, I know I am no Traytor.
And thou whose Life I have so oft preserv'd,
Know'st but too well I am no Coward.

Annib.
Draw.
Draw then, or perish. By the Gods I'll kill thee:
Strikes him with his Sword.
Be what thou wilt: and take this to provoke thee.

Crisp.
Well Annibal. 'Tis well. Thou hast done well.
Yet thus much Villany am I content to bear;
No longer, oh ungrateful for thy sake.
Who injur'st me, yet will not tell the Cause.
But for thy noble Father I will spare thee,
Spare thee thus far; so thou resolve to leave me.

Annib.
Not yet? Why then another?

Crisp.
But the next
Be mine: Humanity can bear no further.

Annib. falls.
Annib.
I have my Death: and now my Heart relents—

Crisp.
Cut off my Hand.

Annib.
Crispus, thou hast wrong'd me.

Crisp.
Speak how, and where?

Enter Serena.
Annib.
See, she comes to tell thee.
Serena, Oh Serena!

Dies.
Crisp.
Gone for ever!

Seren.
Oh, never to return! and I, alas,
Who could not love again, the wretched Cause!

Crisp.
The Cursed Cause.

Seren.
Call me not Cursed, Crispus,
Who think no Blessing equal to thy Love.

Crisp.
Wert thou a Man, by Heav'n such Love I bear thee,
I think that I should seek thee through the World;
To give thee Death—

Seren.
Take then the Death you threaten,
Prepare to suffer by a Virgins hand.

Crisp.
Kill me, and I'll forgive thee Annibal's Death:
But take this Sword, yet reeking with his Blood,
And thrust it through my Heart.

Seren.
Yet hold Serena:
What will become of him when thou art slain?
Kill himself last, and that I would prevent.

Crisp.
Why dost thou stay?

Enter Sylvester.
Silv.
Crispus, I come to tell thee, Thy Father will not bear us.

Seren.
Take these Swords, Sylvester; bear 'em hence,
Without Reply,—or Crispus kills himself.—Away.

Sylv.
Crispus Death!
I thank thee Heav'n! that sent me to preserve him.

Exit.
Crisp.
Why hast thou thus delay'd my Ruine?

Seren.
To make thy Torments lasting,
Live, that my Ghost and Annibal's may haunt thee;
Yet when I come, believe, for all my Threatnings,
My Soul shall seek thee in a gentle form:
Court thee to Cells, and to the Garden shade,
And tell thee there, what Love with us is made;
What Fires the Fiends for willfull Murder make;
And what my Spirit suffers for thy sake.
But hark! I'm call'd—behold the Dead awake.
They waft me, Crispus, to the sleepy Shore,
And I shall never, never see thee more.
Ex. Seren.

Crisp.
She's gone: and takes the means of Death too from me.
So what's the next? What have the Fates to add
To my past Sufferings? Lightning blast me,
Mountains fall on me, gape to the Center Earth,
To hide me from my friend.

Enter Dalmatius.
Dalm.
Why my dearest Crispus! but alas—
In vain I urg'd thy Father, deaf to all,
Our prayers, remorsless, rocky and unmov'd,
Yet think not but I press'd with all my Love.

Crisp.
Therefore in great requital for thy Love
Look there, and let thy Blood congeal to Stone,
Behold thy Annibal butcher'd by this Hand.

Dalm.
Cold, cold my Boy. Crispus. Have I—have I?
But I waste time by such unmanly wailing.
Take to thy Sword.

Crisp.
Thou seest I've none: but strike—

Dalm.
What could provoke thee to this horrid deed?

Crisp.
His jealousie, and Anger of the Heav'ns:
Jealous I robb'd him of Serena's Love.
He call'd me Traitor, Coward, strook me twice,
Before I drew, than ran upon my Sword.

Dalm.
Whatever happen'd—I'm a wretched Father,
And thou hast robb'd me of an only Child.
Therefore hereafter we no more are one,
Where e're I go I'll ask before I enter
If Crispus be not there? that I may shun thee.
Therefore if thou hast any Gratitude
For those kind offices, which I have done thee,
Fly these sad Eyes, as I will run from thine,
To moan my Son, and howl my life away.

Ex. Dalmatius.
Crisp.
Sol.
And whither thou? Thou heap of walking woe!
Thou that hast pull'd thy Father's Curse upon thee;
Kill'd thy best friend, and ruin'd all that Lov'd thee—
Where will at last thy Cruel fortune drive thee?
Hence tear thy Robes: And naked fly the World;
Unmantled to the Weather, wander on
To some dark wild, where Sun-beam never shone.
Ex. Crispus.

Scene II.

Enter Constantine, Arius, Fausta, Sylvester.
Faust.
Consider Sir his Youth—

Const.
I have consider'd all—
But find thy Love so rooted in my heart
I must forgo my life, or lose my Claim.
Yet mark how deep thy tears have wrought my temper,
If thou wilt swear to null my marriage with him,
By wedding me in publick, and, this night,
By making me thy Lord—

Faust.
No Sir, 'tis impossible, yet if you'll swear,
To save your Son if I should prove him guiltless:
I'll tell you wonders Sir, which otherwise
Not Racks shall e're compel.

Const.
Forbid it Heav'n! I should destroy the guiltless,
Tho strangers to my blood, much less my Son:
Therefore I swear by Heav'n and all the Saints,
Prove Crispus innocent he shall not die.

Faust.
Be witnesses, Oh Arius and Sylvester!
What he has sworn: Let Crispus strait be call'd,
And quitted of his Crime: Run, Arius, haste,
That I may see the Royal friendship made.

Ex. Arius.
Const.
By an entire surrender of thy self,
To me.

Faust.
To Crispus!

Const.
By all thy former Oaths I swear to me.

Faust.
I told you, 'twas impossible before,
And now confirm it.

Const.
How?

Faust.
I am married.

Const.
Curses and Vengeance. Married! say by whom?

Faust.
To Crispus.

Const.
When? Thou false one; When? And where?

Faust.
Here in your Palace, on that happy night,
Before you made your dreadful triumph.

Const.
Dreadful indeed: For now the wretch shall die,
Tho Angels pleaded—

Sylv.
Emperor, you have sworn.

Const.
I know it Sir, to spare the innocent blood;
But I will prove him now.

Faust.
White as the Saints;
By all the powers of Heav'n and Earth I swear,
'Twas I that push'd the marriage: Conscious before,
What I had sworn to you; nay cast the Veil
Of Modesty aside to make him sure,
And after Marriage, you may ghess the rest.

Const.
Oh Curses! Vengeance! Curses yet unthought!
Such Curses as thou wilt let fly at me,
When thou shalt see his Head beneath the Ax,
Even Womans Curses on thee.

Sylv.
How Sir, the Ax!

Enter Arius with Crispus.
Const.
Dost thou not find the Traitor?
But see he comes. Oh thou dissembler, answer,
Didst thou not tell me, when thy life was stak'd,
This marriage was not yet consummate, speak.

Crisp.
'Tis true dread Sir.

Const.
Mark all he has confess'd!
His own mouth has condemn'd him—he shall die.

Crisp.

I own'd Sir, I was marry'd—but confess'd
no further.

Const.
How Traitor!
Did I not force the Question often?

Crisp.
True;
Which I as often wav'd with low submissions—

Const.
Yet those thy low submissions all were lies.
For well thou know'st thy subtle working wrought me
To a satisfaction that thou hadst not possest her.

Crisp.
That was alas my Crime.

Const.
That Crime was Treason:
Purpos'd abuse. A Plot upon thy Father.
Nay the whole Cozenage shows thee rank in sin,
Or Ha!—How know I yet she is enjoy'd.
I have but thy word and her's, and both are Traitors,
But see my Brother comes to joyn my Justice.

Enter Dalmatius.
Dalm.
What, Crispus here?

Const.
Stay, my Dalmatius, stay.

Dalm.
Your pardon Sir,
There's one among you, whom I cannot suffer,
And Crispus knows the Cause.
Exit. Dalm.

Crisp.
Come back, and hear it then,
Hear thou unhappy Father, hear me own
The murder which this Cursed hand committed,
That band that slew the wretched Annibal.

Const.
Annibal slain! O Traitor! And by thee!
Is murder added to thy Treason too?

Crisp.
It shall not stand me Sir instead to say,
Mistaken Annibal forc'd me to his ruin.
For see I lay my Body at your Feet,
And plead for Death, as others begg for Life.

Const.
Cleanthes take him—Crispus thou shalt die,
Therefore be this our fatal last farewell—
One struggle more. His Mother's in his Eyes.

Faust.
And where's his Father; but in all his form?
His every grace; his smiles—All but his frowns:
So exact in Body, Qualities of Mind,
That if you kill your Son, you kill your self.
Oh therefore listen to the call of Nature,
And once more view him with an Eye of Mercy.

Const.
I have lookt my last, and now am Judg agen.
Cleanthes! Take 'em both: They 're both your Prisoners,
Crispus and Fausta. Arius—look you to 'em!
Keep 'em apart; and wait me in my Closet—
What yet agen? 'Tis the last tugg of Nature—
And yet another—Why that sigh uncall'd?—
And these wet Eyes? Oh—if I longer stay!
My vows of Justice will dissolve away—

Ex. with Sylvester. Manent Crispus, Fausta, Arius, Guard.
Faust.
Ruin on ruin, let destruction come,
With all the wings of the most violent death,
Yet arm'd with Innocence, I'll face the Gorgon,
And brave his bloodiest Terrors: But thy death,
My Crispus death, my spirit cannot bear—
Therefore I have resolv'd, and think not Crispus,
Think not thy tears shall move me from my purpose.

Crisp.
Speak Fausta; speak, how come these Earthquakes here?
And these o'reflowings? Why do the sighs redouble?

Faust.
Because my dearest life; my all; my Crispus,
Soul of my Soul, that's martyr'd for thy Love—
I am resolv'd rather then see thy death,
To wed thy Father.—

Crisp.
Ha! Do I hear thee truly?
But speak agen, for I'll not trust my senses.

Faust.
To wed him Crispus.

Crisp.
Sorrow sure distracts thee.—

Faust.
No—tis th' effect of reason—
That makes me desp'rate in this last resolve—

Crisp.
No more of this. Haste, cast the poison up,
Tis Hell that tempts thee to Eternal ruin.
Therefore if thou desir'st my spirit shou'd part
In peace, and leave my Love and blessing with thee;
Repent this last result of thy despair,
Lest I conclude thee false.—

Faust.
How false, my Crispus?

Crisp.
False to thy Vows, unconstant to thy Love,
And that thy Soul unable for a ruin,
Chose rather to sustain an infamous life,
Then die with honor.

Faust.
Oh I cannot bear it!

Crisp.
Not when I begg thee with my latest breath—

Faust.
Thy death my Dear! And I the hated Cause?

Crisp.
Therefore I Love thee: And wou'd die agen
For such another proof of thy affection.

Faust.
As wrought thy death?—

Crisp.
Thy purpose was to save me,
And die thy self. Therefore let's fall together—
Be not cast down, my Fair: But raise thy Eyes,
Those watry setting Suns, shine forth, my Fausta,
And make our Love look beautiful in ruin.—

Enter Souldier.
Arius.
The Emperor sends agen to have you parted.

Faust.
Oh Crispus! Whither now?

Crisp.
To our long name,
Where purer Spirits drink immortal Air:
And thin clad Souls in flying Chariots move,
And give, and take, an everlasting Love.

Faust.
Such Love grant Heav'n, our meeting Souls betide,
Which no inhumane Father may divide:
Where at first sight, our minds enlarg'd may spread;
Thro' all the space, and know the mighty Dead.
Such is my hope: But, Crispus, What my fear?
If I should seek: But never find you there—

Crisp.
One last Embrace! Oh Fausta! do not stain,
Our bliss with fears, we ne're shall meet again.
Through all the Heav'n in all their Mansions blest,
To ev'ry Saint my Prayers shall be addrest
Nor shall the happy tast a moments rest:
Till some kind Angel guides my wandring Eyes,
And shews me where thy charming spirit flies.
Then Crown'd with joys, we never knew before,
We'l waste the stock of Loves immortal store,
And cruel fate shall never part us more.

Exeunt.