University of Virginia Library

Sceneis drawn.
Darius is set Musing and Sad, Artabasus attending.
Da.
Oh! Why was Alexander born for me,
To make my Crown a Misery to me;
Which I have made a Happiness to all.
Tyrants, who spar'd not Heaven and Earth, were spar'd:
How can Man find, what way is to walk,
If Fortune will thus blindly plough up all.

Ar.
Come Sir, I pray, do not afflict your self,
You gave your pleasure bounds, limit your grief.
And you, who ne'er broke Law, nor injur'd Man,
Do not break reasons law, in your own wrong.

Da.
I'd know my Crimes, that have deserv'd all this.

Ar.
I know of none.

Da.
Nay, prithee, flatter not.

Ar.
Oh! Sir, was ever I a Flatterer?

Da.
Never, till now.

Ar.
And this is an ill time,
In your Calamity, and my great Age.
For what can you bestow, or I receive?
I've reach'd a Hundred years, now wanting Five.
My Love to Honour, Conscience and my King,
Are all the Appetites, I have to please.

Da.
Oh! Why have I all sorts of Miseries?

Ar.
Those happen to you, as you are a Man.
For what is a Man? A Congregation
Of disagreeing things; His place of Birth,
A confus'd crowd of fighting Elements,
To nothing fixt, but to Eternal change;
They wou'd all lose their Natures, shou'd they fix.

Da.
Why, say they did, were they not better lost
Than kept at such Expence; what does poor Man
Pay for vain Life?

Ar.
What's matter what he pays;
Gods did not make this World only for Man.
He's but a parcel o' the Universe;
A fellow Servant with the meanest thing,
To carry on the Service o' the whole,
And pleasure o' the Gods, the Lords of all.

Da.
Can human Sorrows be delights to Gods;

Ar.
Our Sorrows are not, but our Troubles may,
A Great Man, vanquishing his destiny,
Is a great Spectacle worthy of Gods.

Da.
Give me thy Hand; years have not gone by thee,
Like empty idle Vagrants, but like Kings,
And given thee Riches to relieve a King.

Enter an Eunuch.
Eu.
Lord Bessus, Nabarzanes—

Da.
Are they here.

Eu.
They have been waiting for access some time,
Lord Memnon, Patron too—

Da.
Bring 'em all in.

Enter Bessus, Nabarzanes, Memnon, Patron, Dataphernes, several Bactrians.
Da.
Oh! Welcome, my brave Friends, come to my Arms,
I'm joy'd to see your safety and your Love;
Follow me now? You are true Friends indeed.
I will complain of Misery no more;
For I perceive it is the great Art of Heaven,
To give us better taste of what we have:
A Friend was ne'r so sweet to me before.
'Tis hard in prosp'rous Fortune to know Friends:
Now I am certain you attend on me,
This is to me my first apparent Court.
Though I've not fought, I've lov'd with great success.
There is no State, in which the bounteous Gods
Have not plac'd Joy, if Men wou'd seek it out;
Well, Sirs, What news? How many have we lost?

Be.
Above four hundred thousand, Sir, 'tis said.

Da.
Oh! my amazing merciless destiny.

Be.
'Twas not a Battle, but a Massacre.

Na.
Oh! Sir, I wish your Sorrows might end here.
But though they'r heavy, as the heart of Man
Has strength to bear, I must enlarge 'em yet.
Your great Lievtenants, Sir, and Governors,
Have flung up all their Towns and Provinces.
Mithrenes has resign'd Armenia,
False Mazeus, the once Glorious Babylon.
The Governor of Damas with the Town.
Betray'd the Kingdom—For, Sir, in that Town
You had lodg'd Wealth enough, to regain all.

Da.
Two hundred thousand Talents in coin'd Gold.
In Silver twice the sum; with Diamonds
And Jewels, of inestimable price.

Be.
Alas! This was not all the Riches, Sir.
Your Princes, and great Lords, had (as they thought)
There secur'd all the Beauty o' the East,
I mean their lovely Wives, and Daughters, Sir.
And this inhuman Coward betraid 'em all.
That Wives of Princes serv'd the Lusts of Slaves,
And poorest wretches shone in Robes of Kings;
Such Scorn did Fortune throw on this World's Pride.

Da.
Oh! my immense boundless Calamities.
Though Iv'e so many thousands lost in Fight,
I must lament that I have lost no more,
Better my Cities mount to Heaven in Fire
Than sink by Cowardly villany to Hell.
And they'r preferr'd who meet with Noble Death,
Above the Villains, who by Treason Reign.

Me.
A little Joy were seasonable now.
And I've a little for you, Sir.

Da.
Ha! Joy?

Me.
The Coward of Damas, fled to Babylon.
And with his Brother Villain Mazeus went
To meet the Enemy, with triumphant pomp.
As if the conquest of their Honesties,
Had been most Honourable Victories.
I heard it wou'd be so, took some brave friends,
And slew 'em both before the Conqueror's Face.
Then brought their Heads away, and there they are.

Da.
Oh! brave young Man!—Now I'm subdued by thee;
I've nothing to reward thy Gallantry,
So thou hast made a Vassal of thy King.
I'm overcome by Enemies and Friends.
Good Gods, for all my Losses, Suff'rings, Wrongs,
Favour my gallant Friends, I'll ask no more.

Ar.
Oh! exc'llent Prince! Will the Gods leave a Prince,
To whom they give such pledges of their Love,
I mean such God-like Virtue's and brave Friends?

Da.
'Tis true; Can I despair, and have such Friends?
By you, I'm still a Great and Glorious King,
Able to fight with Alexander yet.
And by the Gods, I'le do't, I thought on flight,
The vile Decree with horror I revoke.
Shall I fear any thing while I have you?
And I am sure, there is not in the World,
A danger you wou'd shun like shameful flight.
And shall I lead you on to Infamy?
No, I will shew, I deserve Men so brave,
I will march back, and fight the Enemy.
One blow may scatter all his Victories.
They'r lumber pil'd disorderly in haste.

Pa.
Oh! Fortune in this Monarch see thy faults,
(aside.
And frailties; he'l be great in spite o'thee.

Da.
What means this silence in you all, my Lords?
If you have fear, I'm sure it is for me.

Be.
Ay, so it is, Great Sir.

Da.
So I believe.
But is there anything to fear, like Shame?
And shall I shamefully desert my Self?
In my own Empire, be a banish'd Man?
Or, like my Traitors to the Conqueror creep,
To be a petty Lord of some poor Town,
And there in safty lock my little Heart?
I charge you, kill me, when I e're devise
Such infamous destruction for your King.
No, I will be a King, or not at all.
My Life and Reign shall have one period.
But if your Resolutions be, like mine,
We will yet give our Sorrows a brave end.
Justice is for us, so may Fortune be.
I'm a bright proof of her inconstancy.
But if no God will lend us any aid,
Let us be Gods, and Fortune to our Selves.
And signalize our Selves by such a Fight,
May shew, at least, we deserve better fates.
—All silent still?—

Ar.
Sir, you exceed us all,
As much in Spirit, as in Dignity.
What Soul but yours is not with horror seiz'd,
Viewing the danger that approaches us?
Sir, you deserve the Empire o'the World.
And we'l endeavour, Sir, to deserve you.
Great Sir, go on, and we will follow you.
You have prepar'd us all with Glorious Arms,
With hopes of Victory, and scorn of Death.

Pa.
Sir, We are strangers, owe our Birth to Greece.
So are free Troops, and may march where we please.
But yet to shew, we fight for Fame, not Pay;
And did not serve your Money, but your Self,
We are all ready to lay down our Lives,
And on our Sepulchres, erect your Throne.
For what a Glory will it be to us,
To make the Persian King our Monument?

Da.
I look'd, brave Patron, for no less from thee.
Now it will be a shame if Persian Lords
Let a poor stranger in their King's own Court,
Outshine 'em all, in Love and Loyalty.

Me.
The Gods forbid.—Lead on, most Royal Sir,
I have some wounds require my present care,
But, Sir, they will not indispose me long.

Ex.
Be.
Now speak our Thoughts to him, we are prepar'd.

Na.
You shew a Courage, Sir, that shames your Fate,
Which gives your Crown from your Descent and Right.
But what has made Heaven blush, shall make you bleed.
Fate plots your ruine by your Gallantry.
Alas! we are not now, as we have been,
A Sea of Men, that delug'd the whole Earth,
Swallowed the Rivers, devour'd Nature's Store,
Emptied the spacious vessel o' the World.
More than the grasp o'Providence cou'd hold;
That down we fell in heaps, now 'tis not so.
We may be numbred now; all we can do
Is but to gain some pity for our selves,
And Honourably throw away our King.
Brave Men scorn Death, but yet they value Life;
Because their Lives are useful to the World.
It is enough—too much,—Danger and Death
Follow us fast, let us not follow them.
Sir, I most humbly move (Heaven knows my Soul,
In tenderness to you, not to our selves;)
Retreat with us, to neighb'ring Bactria.
Sir, there are endless Forests of brave Youth,
Whence in few days we will have rods enow,
To scourge the Macedonian pride to death.
But then we beg you'l make one more retreat.

Da.
Whither?

Na.
Sir, out of the Dominion
Of your ill Planets.—

Da.
Ha!—What dost thou mean?

Na.
Sir, we dare fight with Men, but not with Heaven:
And all the Gods appear your Enemies.
What if you hid in privacy and ease?
It wou'd be pious reverence to Heaven,
And a brave conquest over your own Mind.
Let none subdue Darius but himself.
Fling up awhile to th'importuning storm,
Some of your Dignity to save the rest.
And make your Court to Heaven, and all brave Men,
By honouring the favourite of both,
Lord Bessus, with the Sovereign power.

Da.
How now?—

Na.
Nay, Sir, but for a while, till he has lur'd
Gods, and revolting Nations to your aid.
He is ador'd by Men, obey'd by Gods.
They all observe his Will, they'l not deny
Your Crown to him, and when 'tis in his hand,
He'l faithfully return it to your Self.

Da.
Oh! Villain! most amazing, impudent,
And cowardly Villain! hast thou watch'd thy time,
When Treason may be insolent and safe?
And to my Face abuse me, unchastis'd?—
No, Traytor.—

Da. Draws—Bessus and his Men interpose, and hold the King.
Be.
Hold, Sir, do not hurt your Self.

Da.
Ha! I am seiz'd and threatned—Are you all
In this conspiracy?

Pa.
No, I am not—
Pa. and the Greeks draw.

Be.
Hold, Patron, hold—hold all, that love the King.
He will receive no hurt, except from you;
Our Blood is his, perhaps his vital Blood.
In me you'l cut whole Nations from his aid.

Na.
Before we spoke, we did consider well
The strength, both of our Reason, and our Swords.

Ex. Be. Na.
Da.
Ha! Was this Bessus?

Pa.
Sir, Will you bear this?
By Heavens, I wou'd rather endure the Swords
Of these bold Villains, than their impudence.

Da.
It stunn'd me, but I now recover Sense.
Brave Patron, follow me; follow me all.
Though my hard Fortune will not suffer me
To conquer Kings, I'll be more like a God.
I will defend all Kings, even those unborn.
By the reward these Villains shall receive,
Their dire confusion shall be the defence
Of Kings and Kingdoms, forty Ages hence.

Ar.
Oh! he is running to his certain death.
Oh! Sir.—

(Ar. falls at the King's Feet.
Da.
What dost thou mean?

Ar.
Pity your Self—
Your Friends, your Children; you will ruin all.

Da.
Will none stand by me then?

Pa.
Yes, Sir; we will.

Da.
De'e see? Oh! Shame! More Love, more Loyalty,
In this brave Stranger, than in all my Friends;
Whom I have made more rich, than all his Greece?
Come, Patron, bring thy Greeks, they'r strength enough.

Ar.
Oh! If you'l go to ruin, pass through me,
My life has long been useless to myself.
I shall abhor it, when 'tis so to you,
And, nor my Sword, nor Counsel can prevail.

Da.
Oh! How am I beset? the Enemy
Is at my Back, my Friends fly in my Face?

Ar.
Oh! Sir, I speak my Loyal Care of you,
The Enemy is near, your Army small;
The Macedonian was too great a weight
For us to bear, when we had Millions.
Alas, What shall this little Body do?
When you have maim'd it too? and have cut off
Its strongest limbs? for so these Great Men are,

Da.
They are cut off from all their love to me.

Ar.
Indeed, Sir, I believe, their meaning good.
They have stood bravely by you, Sir, till now;
Stood stronger than the Walls of Babylon:
For they are fallen in shame by base revolt.
If they meant well, pardon their erring love.
Do not destroy 'em for some kind mistakes.
If they be bad, Mercy may change their Hearts.

Da.
Do what you will; for all must Reign but I.
Oh! My misfortunes.

Ar.
Pray, Sir, do not grieve.

Da.
Nay, prithee, if I may not be a King,
Yet let me be the Mourner of a King,
I am all the Mourners that my death shall have.

Ar.
Then am I false?

Da.
No—pardon me, good Man.

Pa.
Who can pretend to Honor, or a Soul,
And not be touch'd with such a Princes wrong?

Ar.
'Tis true, then can the Men, he has oblig'd
Conspire to wrong him? if they had the Thought,
I doubt not but they will abhor themselves;
And I shall fling 'em at his Feet in tears.

Pa.
Or, by the Gods, I'l fling 'em there in Blood.

Da.
Oh! how shall I reward thee, noble Greek?
Well, it is possible they may mean well.
Then, on submission I will pardon 'em,
And take 'em to my Favour yet; for I
Fear more to do injustice than to dye,

(Ex.
Pa.
Come, my brave Countrymen, stand to your Arms;
And let us shew what a true Soldier is:
He's no Mechanique Slave, that sells his breath,
But a just generous Lord, of life and death.
Not a wild Beast, that knows no Law, but Lust;
He destroys beastial Men, or makes 'em just.
The Cut-throat does a Soldiers name prophane,
Pretending to be more, he's less a Man;
The worse for Reason, by that Artful tool,
More hurtful than a Beast, he kills by Rule.
But the true Soldier does Mankind create,
By forcing Reason on a brutal State.
When Oaths are Wind, and Laws but childish Rods,
The Soldier comes, like Thunder, from the Gods.

(Ex.