University of Virginia Library

The Fifth Act:

Scene 1st.

Enter Dalmatius and Serena.
Seren.
Now Sir, you have it all, the whole sad story
Of your unhappy Son, his Love and mine:
Serena's Guilt and Crispus Innocence;
Therefore if you ask blood, and would revenge him;
Here waits his Murdress, for the stroak of death.
But hate not Crispus: Hate not the Innocent:
Much less proceed to the Murder of your friend,
Your faultless, guiltless, too deserving friend;
The gentlest, best, of all the Imperial Race.

Dalm.
No more: There needs no more; my Son is dead:
Eternal peace attend him: A few sad drops,
And now no more; Serena, I believe thee.
My Heart avows th' Innocence of my friend;
Which I had own'd before, had not the wounds
Of Annibal, lain green upon my Soul;
But that I now forgive him be thou witness,
Be witness Heav'n, and this last resolution,
I now put on to save my Crispus life,
Or lose my own.

Seren.
O let me kneel to such exalted Virtue.
But Sir, be quick to save him, or this goodness
Will come too late.

Dalm.
Where is the Emperor?

Seren.
Lockt in his Closet, deaf to the Peoples cries:
Fly Sir, I saw him pass in fury by,
With Arius in discourse.

Dalm.
I fear that Traitor.

Seren.
Your fears my Lord, are mine. I never lik'd him,
The Picture which he gave your Son, has shown him:
He has all the marks, we Virgins reckon Omenous,
A pale, down look, red Hair, and leering Eyes,
Mischief is in him: He's with th' Emperor now,
Perhaps solliciting the fate we fear.
I met 'em Sir, and interrupted Cæsar;
Who first receiv'd me kindly; but at the name
Of Crispus frown'd, and shook me from his arm.

Dalm.
Fear not, as thou hast counsel'd, I will join
Sylvester on the instant.

Seren.
Force the door,
If he refuse to let you in, do all
That pity, love, and friendship can inspire,
Do all that I would do, were I Dalmatius.

Ex. Severally.

Scene II.

Enter Constantine and Arius.
The Scene a Bedchamber. A Bowl and a Dagger on the Table.
Const.
Arius!

Arius.
Sir.

Const.
I am resolv'd to be at rest,
Thou art my friend, Physician, I am sick,
Sick even to death: Reach me that goblet hither.
The Dagger too.

Arius.
Sir.

Const.
What an easie matter
It were for any man, in any Case,
Tho Rack't with th' Gout, Stone, any kind of torture,
With one of these to sleep?

Arius.
For ever Sir?

Const.
Right Arius.

Arius.
Then there is Poison in the Bowl.

Const.
There is most deadly.

Arius.
May I, Sir, presume
To ask for what?

Const.
Arius, thou art my friend,
I think too, thou would'st venture life. Why yes!—
'Tis Poison, and I'll tell thee too for what:
To see how long a Dog will be a dying.
Or say, what if we try'd it on a man;
Some Enemy that Laws will not take hold of?

Arius.
Sir, I understand you.

Const.
Look then you do: How dost thou understand me?

Arius.
Why thus you past your Oath, your Son shou'd live,
If Fausta prov'd him Innocent.

Const.
'Tis true:
And spite of my revenge, my Heart must clear him.

Arius.
Right Sir, I find it, you are grip'd in Conscience,
Now if a Friend should help you: So: or fate
Not always answering most mens Expectations,
Should call your Son to Heav'n.

Const.
To Heav'n Arius!

Arius.
To Heav'n, or Hell, it matters not for that,
So he be out o'th' way, and you not know't.

Const.
And I not know't?

Arius.
No Sir, nor I. What then?
How then! you never see him more.
And so farewell—I'll take this Poison with me.

Const.
Stay stay! Come back.
How strange a guilt is mine, who dare not speak,
But indirectly, what my Soul desires
Directly done. Why shou'd I hide my thoughts
From thee?

Arius.
Why Sir indeed?

Const.
When no Eye sees.

Arius.
None.

Const.
None but the Eye of Heav'n.
But Walls they say have Ears: Therefore we'll whisper
This Horrid, Barbarous; and Unnatural Murder!
Give him his Choice. Tell him I cannot live,
Unless he dies: Tell him I strove to save him,
And nature pleaded wonders in his Cause.

Arius.
I'll stabb him first, and tell him after.—

Const.
No, Poison's the gentler Fate. Thou art too lowd—
O Conscience how it heaves, within my bosom—

Arius.
Conscience! The Souls rising of the Lights. Drink Blood.—

Const.
Blood say'st thou! What the Blood of Crispus? Hark!
Who's there? Run to the Door! Say I am not well,
I'll not be seen to night.

Arius.
Your fancy Sir.

Const.
I thought I heard my Mothers Voice.
But she's long dead: 'Twas as thou say'st, my fancy,
My fear, my guilt that haunts me: But begone,
If he must fall there is no hiding it:
Call it no longer Murder, but a Justice,
Survey him as a Thief that robb'd thy Soul
Of all its wealth: Arius—how am I now?

Arius.
All Emperor. And Sir I'll haste to obey you.

Const.
Thou shalt: But go not Arius, till I send thee—
All Emperor, and Judge. But where's the Father?
Work me there Nature, save him if thou canst;
Remember him as once thy bosom-love.

Arius.
I like not this Remembrance.

Const.
Remember the whole Progress of his Life;
Obedient all, ev'n in his Infant Years:
When every Morning to my Bed-side he came,
And as I blest him, thank'd me with his Tears.

Serena knocking without.
Seren.
My Lord, the Emperour.

Const.
Arius, hark. Who's there?
Hark, 'tis my Wife. Run to the door. My Wife!
She's risen from the dead to save my Son.

Seren.
I will have Audience.

Ari.
Madam, you must not enter.

Const.
Arius, Let her in.

Enter Serena.
Seren.
Cæsar, Save thy Son;
Save him in time; the People are in Arms.
Dalmatius, with the Guards, is gone to quell 'em.

Const.
How! mutiny? And in my Sons behalf?
Is this the course to save him? Arius hence—
And execute my Orders.

Seren.
May I think it?
A Bowl of Poison, Sir: Is that your Order?

Const.
There is no Mystery now to be conceal'd—
'Tis as you said: And Crispus dies this Minute.
Arius away.

Seren.
He sha'n't, till you hear me.
Think Sir, oh think!

Const.
I've thought too much already:
But with this last Revolt my Heart is steel'd;
Though as you enter'd I was fooling Time
With Thoughts of Mercy.

Seren.
And has this cursed Wretch prevented you?

Const.
Dalmatius and Sylvester will be here
To hinder Justice: Break her Hold. Away.

Seren.
Fall then Serena first. And stay that fury.

Stabs her self.
Const.
Arius, come back. What hast thou done Serena?

Seren.
I've paid the Debt of Nature e're my Time.

Const.
'Twas a too honest Part. What was the Cause?

Seren.
The Love of Crispus: Love of him you hate.
But let this Victim to Despair suffice.
Enter Dalmatius and Sylvester.
Your Brother here! Dalmatius pardon me.
Your Son is now reveng'd. Restrain the Emperour—
And look to Arius. Oh!

She dies.
Dalm.
The Joys of Heav'n,
And an eternal Requiem waste thy Soul.

Const.
Brother, How are the People?

Dalm.
All hush'd again.
Why will you harbour, Sir, that Snake about you,
That puts you on these fatal Resolutions?
For, else could it be possible a Prince
So good, so full of every Kingly Grace,
Should once conceive a Thought to put his Son,
His guiltless Son, to an untimely Death,
Without the Instigation of a Devil?

Sylv.
Consider, Cæsar, you that have had the Glory
By Miracles from Heav'n to be converted:
We know your Passion manacles your Reason;
But here are Hands to help you.

Const.
Is that then the Result of all your Reason?
To hope for sober Actions from a Mad-man?

Dalm.
Not till the Frenzy leaves him. But we know
You are not so far gone, to lose all Temper.
Your Hopes, and Fears, your broken Resolutions,
Are Symptoms all of a most noble Nature,
Where Judgment seems half sunk, but not quite drown'd.

Const.
Why this I can alledge as well as you;
I know the Lawrels which I've worn so long
Must wither: If my Son should find a Grave,
My present Fame, and Glory too hereafter,
Is all upon the hazard: But what then?
I see the Storm before me threatning Wrack,
I see the Shelves, but who can point the Shore?

Syl.
Cast over-board the Casket of your Love.
I know 'tis precious; but 'twill sink you, Sir.
Divorce her, Sir; and give her to your Son.

Const.
Forgo my Fausta! 'tis impossible.

Dalm.
Nothing's Impossible to a Mind resolv'd:
But pass beyond Sylvester's mild Remonstrance,
And ease your Love by Death, by Fausta's Death.
When she is past Recall you'll love no more;
Envy no more.

Const.
If that could be resolv'd—
The Conquest were a great one.

Dalm.
The more you think, the more the Thought will strike you.
See but the difference of Counsellors;
What Colours good and bad can give to Reason.
Had Arius stay'd, by this time you had doom'd
Your Son to Death; who now have gain'd the Conquest.

Const.
Would half were gain'd: yet, since the Start was noble,
I'll try to win in this Olympick Race.
Tho hilly all the way, and at the Gole
The Summit touches Heav'n.

Dalm.
Urge the Necessity; she or Crispus dies:
Th' innocent Crispus, or the guilty Fausta
That after all her Vows, could thus deceive you.
Deceive you both. Who if your Son were dead,
No doubt, as quick would practise with another.

Const.
By Heav'n, why not? She that could swear, and was
Forsworn, may swear and be forsworn again:
Oh! I remember now with what a Look,
An Angel-look, she vow'd.

Dalm.
Yet with that Look,
This Angel, like a Devil, drew in your Son:
Methinks the very grossness of the Cheat
Should make you loath her.

Const.
Ha!

Dalm.
Detest and scorn her.

Const.
Scorn on her Scorn, and Death Disdain succeed;
By Majesty, by Empire, she shall bleed.

Silv.
Banish her, Cæsar.—

Dalm.
No Sir; Death, or nothing.
Banish her to day, and she'll be here to morrow:
Down with her, down; dwell on her perjur'd Vows,
When the same Breath that swore her yours for ever
Dam'd her anothers.

Const.
Arius, bring her forth.
She dies! I'll sweat and bleed, but I will conquer—
Call, call my Son.—Henceforth but name a Woman,
'Tis Treason to my Ear: Why, what a Plague
Might she have here engender'd! Forc'd a Father
To put his guiltless Son to horrid Death.

Dalm.
Royally urg'd. By Heav'n 'twas ever thus.
Where Women had to do. Therefore behold her
As a Gangreen to the State.

Const.
And cut her off.

Dalm.
The Bane of Empire—

Const.
And the Rott of Power!
Yet there I'll stay and fix my Imagination,
On all their Mischiefs, Murders, Massacres.
And Seas of Blood they have spilt in former Ages.
Woman, no more. And when my Heart is going,
Sound but that Name, the pow'rful spell shall bind
Beyond Circean and Ægyptian Charms,
'Twill raise the lowest Devils up in swarms,
Unhinge the Globe, and put the World in Arms.
Woman that dooms us all to one sure Grave,
And faster damns than Providence can save.

Exit.
Enter Constantine and Fausta.
Const.
Fausta, thou art false, forsworn.

Faust.
I say so too.

Const.
Therefore shalt dye.

Faust.
I have no other Wish.

Const.
What, not to live,
If I should pardon thee?

Faust.
That were Life indeed;
To gain your Pardon, and to live for Crispus.

Const.
No, Wretch! remember as you swore to me,
I now return; it is impossible.
Yet thou shalt dye for Crispus.

Faust.
And not with him, Sir?

Const.
No; I've decreed
That thou shalt dye to save him.

Faust.
But have you, Sir, decreed to love him too
On Fausta's Death?

Const.
I have.

Faust.
Oh! then the Gods
Have heard my Pray'rs, which, next to living for him,
Was, still to dye to save him.

Faust.
Yet grant me Sir in Death
One last Farewel.

Const.
No; thou hast look'd thy last.

Faust.
Yet you may let 'em bear me by his Window;
If it be possible to snatch a Glance,
And not delay my Execution, Sir.

Const.
She weeps; and there is Magick in her Tears.
I shall weep too. Bring forth the Poison. Haste—
She shall not stay the making of a Bath.
What Arius!

Ari.
Sir.

Const.
Give her the Poison. Haste and see her dye.

Faust.
Stay Sir, come back. I have no load upon me—
But what you all may know: give me the Bowl;
I'll drink it for my Love. Alas my Lord,
Methinks one last farewel, had not been much;
But since you judge it Sir unfit—I'll die,
Without complaining. Therefore tell my Love—
That my last Pray'r was for his life and yours.

Const.
Hold Fausta: Arius, take the Poison from her,
And bring the Bath. My Son shall see her die,
Call Crispus hither, since her Fates decreed,
'Twere just he shou'd be harden'd with the view.
She weeps agen. And with the trick unmans me,
Spite of my vows, she works my Lyon Heart
And melts me into Love. How fares my Fausta?

Faust.
Sir.

Const.
Thy hand before we part for ever. Fausta—
I am lost—I'm vanquish't. With a touch o'recome—

Dalm.
Wake Sir. Where are you?

Const.
Ha!

Dalm.
Sylvester's here:
And Crispus waits.

Const.
Why then she dies agen.
Haste, Bring him in, bring him to my relief.
The earning of a Father comes upon me,
And my Soul longs to meet him. Fausta, turn;
Turn thy bright Eyes on death: And carry fires
To scorch new Worlds; but warm the old no more.
For here's the rising Sun, to eclipse thy beams.
Enter Crispus with Sylvester.
O Crispus! Who that has beheld our distance?
That infinite space that passion cast betwixt us,
Would e're have thought we thus should meet agen?

Crisp.
What can be added, Heav'n, to such a kindness!

Const.
What Crispus! What indeed to make it lasting?
See'st thou that fair one?

Crisp.
Sir, you give me hopes; Tho dash't with fears.
But hold, perhaps I have to death offended,
For sinning but in wish: A dawning joy,
Shines in her Eyes, and revels in her smiles,
Which seem to tell me, we shall both be happy.

Const.
Would'st thou be happy in thy Fathers Love?

Crisp.
Judge me you Powers, if that be not my thought:
The utmost reach of my extended Soul,
Which knows no other wish, but Fausta's Love—

Const.
And that's the Love, which you, by my example
Must learn to hate.

Crisp.
To hate Sir! What?

Const.
Hate thy Love:
Or what's all one, to bear the effect of hate,
Her execution here before thy Eyes.

Crisp.
My Fausta's death?

Scene draws. Arius, Labienus, Eubolus, with a Bath.
Const.
Behold the Poison'd Bath.

Crisp.
For me—I am ready Sir. Haste, Launch my Veins:
You that are destin'd here for my Destruction,
Unrobe me—haste—

Const.
None touch him, on your lives.
They may as safely Launch their Emperor,
As wound his Son. But Fausta must prepare,
There is no other way to reconcile us.

Crisp.
Then hold me Sir, at everlasting distance,
Cast me agen for ever from your sight.
Banish me; Curse me, as you did before—
But make not Fausta's death the Cursed cause,
To save this Villains life. This hangman Traitor,
Nay Coward that can live and hear her threatned!

Faust.
My Love, my Lord, Blame not thy noble Father,
Nor Curse thy self, for this was all my seeking.—

Crisp.
Thy seeking. Ha! And seekest thou my embraces—
After the base dishonor thou hast done me?
Hence from my Arms—

Faust.
I will not, I will hold thee
To my last gasp, and grasp thee after death,
Why push me yet agen: Nay, strike me Crispus,
I will not leave thy Bosom.

Crisp.
See he's going—
By my blest Mothers Soul, let me come at him—

Const.
Arius, see it done.
All Prayers are vain; some of you, break his hold.

Crisp.
Dalmatius and Sylvester will not sure,
And for the rest, let me but see who dares.

Const.
Their Emperor commands 'em—help to force him,
I charge thee Crispus, leave me,
And dare not by this willfulness provoke me.

Crisp.
I have no willfulness: But these stubborn Tears
Hear my last sighs. For groans quite choak my words,
My Fausta's life: Or break my heart before you.

Faust.
Sir, do not hear him, snatch your self away,
And leave us here—I'll hush him e're I die;
And send him weeping to you for his Pardon.

Const.
He sees 'tis vain. And has let go his hold.
Withdraw—yet Brother, we'll observe unseen—
I do not like this sudden sullenness—
Fausta farewel, Arius dispatch. No more.

Exeunt.
Crispus, Arius, Fausta. Executioners.
Faust.
Now Crispus: Now my Dear, wilt thou forgive me
This glorious Conquest of Triumphing Love?

Crisp.
No: By my Soul, and by my hopes of Heav'n,
Not at thy parting groan, will I forgive thee.
But rather Curse the hour, when first I saw thee,
Curse our first Kisses, Marriage and Embraces,
Unless thou joyn me—Ha—come forwarder:
With Arius, joyn me, to provide some means,
That I may bear thee company in Death.
If this thou dost deny me, by the Saints,
By all our Loves—I swear thou never Lov'st me—

Arius.
By Heav'n my Lord I pitty you; and if—

Faust.
If Arius! What? Thou wilt not joyn his madness?

Crisp.
Hark Arius: By our friendship—I conjure thee,
For I have sworn I will not eat nor drink:
Tho I survive this hour—

Arius.
I have the means.

Crisp.
A Dagger. Blessings on thee—Give't me I say—

Faust.
Arius, thou art a Villain!

Crisp.
I'll tell my Father, that I forc'd it from thee.

Faust.
Keep, Keep it from him, or I'll tell the Emperor,
'Twas you that first betray'd him to my Love;
And Marry'd us.

Arius.
Hold Madam! Let me begg you—

Crisp.
Now Love, I am for thee.

Faust.
No! I'll call the Emperor.
Oh that damn'd Villain, Traitor, Devil, Arius.
Help there without. Crispus is Murder'd. Help—

Arius.
Nay then 'tis time to fly—

Constantine meets him with the rest.
Const.
Yes Fiend, to Hell,
Where thou shalt make thy Damn'd account.—In with him—
Cast the unblooded Villain in the Bath,
Which he prepar'd for others: Throw him in.

Arius.
Hold Sir, the Bath's not Poison'd.

Const.
How!

Arius.
Compassion, for your Empress,
Made me contrive this only way to save her.

Const.
Thou hast done well. Yet in with him, to try.

Arius.
Hold Sir! And I'll confess, it is, it is,
'Tis Poison'd—Pardon.

Const.
Down with him, keep him down
Till he be dead. Then give him to his Slaves.—
The Bath sinks with him.
O Crispus—Why? Why dost thou Eye me thus
With snatch'd regards? Why dost thou Eye thy Father?
Now looking on thy Dagger, now on Fausta—
As if 'twere possible to deny her still?

Crispus.
Deny her? Why Sir? Mean you then to give her?

Const.
Or let me stand a Curse to after Ages.
It is the hand of Heav'n, not mine that gives her:
The Treasons of the perjur'd Arius
So turn my Soul, and quite reduce my reason,
That I will give her thee without a Pang.
Take her my Son, And with her all the blessings,
And all the Love, my loaded Bosom bears;
The Dews of Heav'n, and these thy Fathers Tears.

Crisp.
Oh Joys!

Faust.
Oh Heav'n!

Crisp.
Fausta!

Faust.
Crispus! Cæsar!

Crisp.
Father!
But let us prostrate—as a God, approach him—
Thou glorious Image of the Deity!
What shall we answer?

Const.
Crispus! Fausta—Nothing;
Nothing but rise, and take me in your Arms.
Thus brooding o're you with a fruitful Joy,
I prophecy by my example led;
Such Love and peace, thro' all the World shall spread,
And Roman Arts that British Isle adorn,
Where Helena Deceas'd, and I was Born.
While Crispus thus, to Fausta's Love, I give:
And both for ever, in my Bosom live.

Ex. Omnes.