University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

The Temple.
After a Noise of fighting, Enter John, Eleazar, and the Pharisees, leading Matthias bound.
Eleaz.
Kill, Kill the Priest! to save whose cursed head
The blood of Saints is so profusely shed!

1. Phar.
Make the bold Heathen King his rage repent,
Fix the Priests head upon the Battlement.

John.
Yes, Sir, you dye—You have a Tyrant bin.

Eleaz.
Bane of Religion—

2. Phar.
A support of sin!

John.
Greedy of wealth.

Eleaz.
Ambitious and profane!

3. Phar.
Enslaving us that you alone might raign.

1. Phar.
Despising all that our Traditions own.

John.
Hater of Zeal, because your self had none.

Eleaz.
Patron of all that to your side you gain,
Proselyte, Gentile, or Samaritan.

2. Phar.
And that, for which you most deserve to dye,
An open favourer of Idolatry.

3. Phar.
Yes, Sir, for power you would to Rome have sold
Our Temple, Altars, and our sacred Gold;
And plac'd their Idols here, provided you
Might have been made a mighty Idol too.

John.
Rome was the Idol which you worship'd here,
Your Dagon, Ashtaroth, and Baal-Peor.

Eleaz.
You are her Priest, she plac'd you in the Chair.

1. Phar.
These are her Robes and Ornaments you wear.

2. Phar.
And to your mighty Moloch's bloody Shrine,
You did our lives in Sacrifice design.

Matth.
Amazing Impudence!

John.
Come, do not flye
To such vain trifles, but prepare to dye:
They will not here so easily believe;
Let not vain hopes of life your Soul deceive;
For though I to your Crimes express some hate,
I have a Jewish Charity for that.

Matth.
Oh Heavens!—

John.
What still in this disorder keep!
Alas! the doleful Object makes me weep!
An aged man!—nay more a reverend Priest!
At his last hour in falshood thus persist.

Eleaz.
Tears for such sinners ought not to be spilt.

3. Phar.
His Age and Office aggravates his guilt.

1. Phar.
A Priest sell Heav'n a little power to gain?

Eleaz.
A Priest so proud?

John.
An aged man so vain?

Matth.
Oh! Divine goodness lend my spirit power,
To rule it self in this tempestuous hour.

Eleaz.
Come, bind his Eyes.

Matth.
What, in the Temple too?
To Heav'n it self is there no reverence due?

2. Phar.
You talk of Heaven!

Eleaz.
You Sacriledge reprove,
When if not hinder'd by the Power above,
A Tyrant's Image had defil'd this place?

John.
So much dissembling in that aged face!

3. Phar.
Mock Heav'n the instant you expect to dye!

John.
Do you the Being of that Power deny?
Methinks if Conscience no respect can gain;
Shame before me a little should restrain.
Do not I know?—Oh, that I ne're had known;
It costs me many a most bitter groan.

Eleaz.
Grieve not your self, your Cause needs no defence.

John.
Oh! Divine Gift! of useful impudence.

[Aside.
Matth.
Oh! glorious Being! for thy Honour's sake,
Some swift revenge on these Apostates take.

Eleaz.
Come to the work—Let us no longer wait:
But see! the Gentile King has forc'd the Gate.

Omnes.
We are betray'd!

Phraartes, Guard, enter and pursue the Rebels, who retire and shut the door after them.
Phra.
What horrid sight is this?
Sees Matthias bound ready to dye.
To what curst Demon is this Sacrifice?
Pursue, pursue the Dogs—

Phin.
This cursed Tower
Secures the bloody Rebels from our power.

Phra.
Fire it, let Flames the savage Villains chace.

Phin.
It lodges, Sir, too near this sacred place.

Phra.
The sacred place! there can be no such thing;
The world has nothing sacred but a King.
I am prophan'd, and I revenge will have.

Matth.
O Truth! why dwell'st thou not in Souls so brave?
Calm, Sir, your Royal Soul! your just desire
Heav'n will pursue, with swifter wings than fire.
Their crying sins that sleepy Vengeance wake,
Which mounted, soon their Troops shall overtake.
But oh what Crowns in Heav'n are forming now,
By Angels hands, for our Preserver's brow?

Phra.
Oh! my good Father! there was once an hour,
When you had greater Treasure in your power:
Now you may turn me off to Heav'n for pay,
For all this Treasure you have given away.

Matth.
When I enjoy'd this Wealth I do not know,
Nor yet to whom I did this bounty show?

Phra.
Nay it is that that makes my grief extreme,
You have bestow'd it on a Cloud, a Dream.
An empty Shadow does my hopes destroy:
Were he a Mortal did the Gift enjoy,
With Kingdoms I would hire him to resign,
Or spight of him my Sword should make it mine.
But like Cambyses here I madly stand,
To fight with winds, and conquer flying Sand:
Roving imaginations of the mind,
That flye around the world, and Reason blind.
Forgive my words, forc't from me by my pain;
'Tis of Religion (Father) I complain,
And your fair Daughter is the Gift I mean.

Matth.
Has she the subject of this wonder been?
Is that the Prize shou'd be so dearly bought,
A poor and humble Maid below your thought?
She to Religion may her self bestow,
Who has no taste of any thing below.
And say Religion, Sir, shou'd nothing be,
Then nothing best with nothing will agree;
And she so little feels the joys of sense,
She's next to nothing in indifference.
What shou'd she do with Subjects, and a Throne,
Who half her life is on her knees alone?
She to a Lover will give small delight,
Who wastes in Prayer two Watches of the night.
Besides, she beauty wants a Throne to grace,
And fill with pleasures such a Kings embrace.

Phra.
Good Father, you are skill'd in things above,
Leave Beauty to be judg'd by Youth and Love.

[Enter Clarona, Phedra, Women, attended with a Guard.
Clar.
Are my Prayers heard, do I my Father see?
And is he safe from Rebels Cruelty?

Matth.
By this great King's protection yet I live,
To whom next Heav'n thou must thy praises give,
And, wou'd Religion with her title part,
On whom thou oughtest to bestow thy heart.
Oh! Daughter, we his kindness ill repay;
He gives us joy, and we take his away.

Phra.
Yes, Madam, I in insolence improve;
For now in spight of your Commands I love.
Sentence of Banishment on me you laid,
And I some tryals of obedience made:
But all my strife with mighty Love was vain,
It did compel me to return again,
And fix my self on you, my place of rest;
You I must love, and in your love be blest.

Clar.
Still do those thoughts your mighty mind pursue?
Alas! they torture me now more than you.
Before it was the Parthian King did crave,
But now the Prince who did my Father save.
He asks my love, to whom my life I owe;
Sir, ask me any thing I can bestow,
If then I prove to your entreaties rude,
Call me a Monster of ingratitude.

Phra.
For the too cruel doom to me decreed,
I know you Nature and Religion plead;
That both have firmly against love combin'd,
Nature has made it hateful to your mind,
Religion has deform'd it into sin:
But, Madam, I am all a storm within:
My Reason cannot hear one word you say;
My raging love blows all the sound away.

Matth.
Pity such stormy Passions, Sir, shou'd blow
In a brave heart, where such great Vertues grow.

Clar.
With love so generous I cou'd comply,
Did not Religion and my Vows deny.

Phra.
No more to me that Dream Religion name,
On more substantial Causes lay the blame:
Say I have something does your hatred move,
Or that I am not worthy of your love:
That I'm a banish'd King, and want a Crown,
And have not yet reveng'd my wrong'd Renown.
Say this, and I will satisfied remain,
'Till I my Honour right, my Empire gain,
'Till Rome, nay 'till the Captive world I bring
To beg you to have pity on their King.

Clar.
Sir, for your love, no Beauty upon earth
But might adore the Stars that rul'd their birth.
In you, Sir, all their longings may be crown'd:
Do they love Glory, here 'tis to be found;
If Valour, never was a man so brave;
If Love, here's all that they can wish to have;
If Noble Form, here they may please their sight,
With all that is in Nature exquisite.

Phra.
Say all these things, and love deny?

Clar.
I at this Price Eternal Glory buy.

Phra.
Eternal Glory!—Oh! that sounding word!
Did it the joy of one hour's love afford,
Or what a minute's pleasing Dream bestows,
Then you gain'd something for the joys you lose,
But do not sacrifice me to a sound,
Where no delight or meaning can be found.

Matth.
Your Royal Soul has only yet perus'd
The Book of Nature, which is all confus'd:
Religion shews you more of heavenly good,
Than ever Nature taught or understood.

Clar.
Or truth or falshood which so e're it be,
If I believe it, it is truth to me.
Then, Sir, forgive me if I dare not love,
I dare not to Religion faithless prove.
Suppose, Sir, I had vow'd my self to you,
Wou'd you be willing I shou'd prove untrue?
And if I break my Vows with Powers above,
Consider I may then prove false to Love.

Phra.
Then give to Heav'n the Soul which you have vow'd,
But let these Beauties be on Love bestow'd.
Let me enjoy those Hands, those Lips, those Eyes,
Which only flesh and blood know how to prize,
And will not Heaven's estate at all impair,
And I will be contented with my share.

Clar.
All is Religion's.

Phra.
Do not tell me, all!—

Clar.
It is too late my Vows, Sir, to recall.

Phra.
All or not all, Heaven's right retain or give;
Love must have something that he may but live.

Clar.
What, Father, can be done?

Matth.
I do not know,
Fain wou'd I pay the mighty debt we owe.

Clar.
Me from my birth your self to Altars vowed.

Matth.
But by the Law Redemption is allowed.

Phra.
Oh! blessed News! some hope is drawing nigh!
Can I her freedom with my Kingdom buy?

Matth.
Much lower price will do it—keep your Crown,
Heav'n needs it not, the world is all his own.

Clar.
I've vow'd my self.

Matth.
That is as I allow:
Subjects and Children have no right to vow.
When Kings or Parents their consent deny,
A Solemn League is solemn Villany.
But oh! I gave you my consent with joy.

Matth.
Oh! do not now my infant hopes destroy!

Matth.
Alas! my Reason no more aid can lend.

Phra.
How long shall I with Shadows here contend?
I'm kept a Pris'ner in religious Rules,
[Aside.
And holy Laws the common Jail of Fools.
That I cou'd travel to some happy Star,
Or other worlds remov'd from this so far,
Where the great Bell Religion is not heard,
Nor men out of the use of Reason scar'd;
Where happy Souls enjoy unbroken rests,
And have not their delights disturb'd by Priests,
Who dayly tolling of this Bell are found,
And no man lives out of the frightful sound.

Matth.
I see I'm thrust on ill, deny or grant,
I must rob Heaven, or let you starve for want.
Men are all cruelty, but Heav'n will spare,
I'le trust him, and religious sufferings bear.
Take her, but know I steal from wealth divine,
And for your use the Gold of Altars coin.

Clar.
Who gave my being, may of me dispose,
I yield the Gift a Fathers right bestows.

Phra.
Soul summon all thy force thy joy to bear,
Whilst on this hand eternal love I swear.

Clar.
Now I am wholly at the Kings Commands,
I kneel and beg most humbly at his hands,
My joy, my peace, my everlasting Crown,
All which I've humbly at his feet laid down.

Phra.
What means my Queen? what is it she wou'd have?

Clar.
What I have sworn to carry to my Grave,
And must, or perish in its just defence,
I mean my spotless Virgin innocence.

Phra.
Was e're such a request to Lover made?
Think you that such Commands can be obey'd?

Clar.
Yes, or for ever I must wretched prove.

Phra.
Ask not, unless you think I do not love.

Clar.
Sir, if you do, then let your love be seen.

Phra.
It quickly shall—I'le make you such a Queen—

Clar.
You may, the happiest that did ever Reign,
By your restoring Heaven to me again.

Phra.
To night I'le give it in your Bridal Bed.

Clar.
First round the world let me in Chains be led.

Phra.
These are not sure your thoughts, think once again.

Clar.
The resolution I'le to death retain.

Phra.
Is this my Bridal Song? a sweeter sound
Should in that heavenly voice methinks be found.
Altars, to your omnipotence I bow,
From me you force what Armies cou'd not do:
What you will have, no power can retain.
Fair Saint! I give you to your Vows again.
Sleep on and dream of mighty things above,
I will not wake you any more with love.

Matth.
Live, King Phraartes, let Jerusalem ring.

Clar.
All chaste and holy Maids his praises sing.

All.
Long live King Phraartes!

Phra.
But must I all of you to Heaven resign?
May not this Hand, those charming Eyes be mine?

Clar.
I'le grant the King, sure, any modest Prayer.

Phra.
Pray give me all of you that Heaven can spare.

Clar.
You shall have all the joys in friendship's store.

Phra.
I'le be content, since I must have no more.
You shall remain my sacred Maiden Queen,
A glorious Treasure only to be seen.

All.
Long live King Phraartes.

[Enter Messenger, Sagan, and Phineas.
Mess.
Ah, Sir, new terrour the whole City fills,
An Army covers all the Neighbouring Hills;
A dreadful shadow o're each Valley falls,
And Roman Eagles hover near our Walls.
Queen Berenice, transported with the sight,
Prepares her Chariots to be gone to night;
The raging People rouz'd with these Alarms,
In wild distractions all betake to Arms.

Phra.
Friend thou dost glorious tydings to me bring,
Now there is business worthy of a King.

Matth.
Arriv'd e're we are fitted for defence.

Phin.
We have been wrong'd with false Intelligence.

Sag.
Sure all our Scouts have been surpriz'd, or slain!

Matth.
Haste, lest the Thieves by this advantage gain,
Shut all the Gates, and guard the outward Courts,
But chiefly watch the Rebels strong resorts:
Then place our Standard by the Camp Divine,
And there in Arms let all the People join.

Phin.
Sure they a resolute defence will make,
Since in the Town our Nation lies at stake;
Hither our Tribes are from all places come,
Fear has drove thousands, and devotion some.
Some for the Passeover that's drawing nigh,
But thousands only here for refuge flye.
These Buildings harbour, on a various score,
Two hundred Legions of our Race and more.
But on what e're intent they here prepare,
They to their wealth and lives devotion bear.

Matth.
Let 'em all Arm—for though the Foe is brave,
I on no terms a Peace with Rome will have.
The Cause is Heaven's, and let the Power Divine
Relinquish me, if I his right resign.

Phra.
Father, your Foes already have their doom;
Triumph this moment for the fall of Rome:
Her slaughter'd Legions feed your Beasts and Fowls,
Dung Earth with Carcases, and Hell with Souls;
The Chains of all the Captive Kings, and States
Their Power oppress, are fallen at your Gates:
Hither by Fate is all their Glory hurl'd,
Stoop and take up the Empire of the World.
For he who Being to Clarona gave,
Ought the World's Empire in reward to have.

[Exeunt omnes.