University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

Scene I.

Enter Demetrius meeting Zizimo.
Demet.
Stand, give the Word e'er you pass farther.

Zizim.
Demetrius?

Demet.
Oh, honest Captain,—come opportunely
To forward Matters in this Night of Wonders.

Zizim.
Wonders indeed, my Lord; for sure till now
Never was City taken in such Silence:
No Stir, no Noise, in such a hush of Quiet,
That when the Postern-gate was open'd to us
To let the General in, and all that follow'd;
When those who made Resistance were cut off,
'Twas done with such a Stillness, as if Death
Made purposely quick Work to prevent Outcries.

Demet.
The Tyrant being in th'heighth of his Security,
By his Neglect, made th'Enterprize so easy,
Never was Bird of Prey caught in a Snare
So pleas'd as he, ignorant of what is past,
He has been drinking largely with his Favourite,
Suspecting nought even here, in my Apartment;
And I'm now sent to fetch th'suppos'd Grimoald
With th'Messengers of Craterus; who they are,
And what the end of this Night's Work must be,
Go with me and be satisfy'd. I've promis'd Musick too
To entertain him—I'm now a Primiere Minister.

Zizim.
Thus the just Gods ordain the Fate of Tyranny,
When things most dangerous have easiest Turns.
First, that the Letter lost, of such dire Consequence
Had Aristander seen't, should fall so contrary;
Then, that the Creature of proud Damocles,
Train'd up so long in Villainy, and trusted
With Packets to Craterus to raise Succours,
Should at that Crisis, by reason of a Grudge
Taken perhaps, about some Suit refus'd,
Revolt, and straight discover the main Secret
That has cut all their Throats.

Demet.
Nay, and to me too,
His Master's known, resolv'd Remembrancer,
Is half a Miracle! Why, Captain, I'm so trusted,
That even this Night, when we surpriz'd the Guards,
They star'd on me as if they thought 'twas done
By the King's Order.

Zizim.
The Ætolian Soldiers
Are plund'ring now the Palace, and th'Tyrant's Daughters
Expos'd to utmost Fury.

Demet.
Which I'll prevent, if possible, for Amidea's sake,
Tho' much I fear; but first let's make the Game
Secure with Aristander.—Guards are ambush'd,
And every thing in Order, come thou along
And help on my Disguise.—See, yonder he comes
Like a fell Dragon, gorg'd with hop'd Revenge;
There let him Bask a while, we'll to our Work.

Zizim.
I'm glad there's Joy in's Face.—'Tis ominous.

[Exeunt.
Enter Aristander.
Arist.
I heard a Noise, no doubt 'tis the new Succours,
And the great Work is doing; where Timoleon
And the Rebel Crowd shall crush beneath my Vengeance.
Fate, thou hast serv'd me now as I could wish,
And like a God in yon' celestial Dome,
Methinks I fix me here an equal Deity.
Oh Power! thou darling Mistress of my Soul,
I will enjoy thee now with my full Gust,
In spite of crawling Insects, the base Vulgar;
Who tho' they all exist by my warm Beams,
Yet envy me in my Glory.—Power, thou Creator
Supreme, first Cause of perfect Happiness,
What is not done by thee?—To thee the Miser
Tenders the Golden Idol of his Soul,
Dearer than that by far; to thee the Transports
That Beauty brings with that sweet angelick kind,
Are humbly offer'd; high exalted State,
Honour's bright Wreaths, and awful Dignity;
Bent Knees of Vassals, flowing Eyes of Suppliants,
With the vast Train of diligent Attendants,
All waiting for the Hand or Nod to execute,
Subservient are to thee, celestial Power.
Feast, feast my Soul then, sate thy self with Joy,
Indulge in Bliss which nothing can destroy.
Enter Damocles.
Hah! Shall we not, my Damocles?

Damo.
No doubt you should, Sir.

Arist.
Thou smil'st, what's the occasion?

Damo.
To think that you, who are this God in Power,
Should let a trifling Mortal, pufft up with Pride,
Oppose the darling Pleasure of your Heart,
And by that Insolence boast a Power above ye.

Arist.
Ah, thou meanest Belizaria! Furies take her,
The Lust I had t'enjoy her is now turn'd
Into Revenge, which she shall feel, and suddenly.

Damo.
Revenge your self upon her Beauty first;
Take that, I know 'twill please ye still t'enjoy her:
For to do Justice, tho' she acts a Fury,
Her Body's moulded of celestial Matter,
And must exquisitely charm. When I saw her
Lately in Prison, mourning her young Cub,
Methought her Eyes in Tears cast still more Sweetness;
Her Cheeks, that wore an Air of solemn Sorrow,
Flush'd with warm Blood, shew'd such a pure Vermilion,
Would infuse vig'rous Warmth to frozen Hermits,
And make 'em languish in a new Desire.

Arist.
Nay, th'Enchantress has her Charms 'tis true.

Damo.
Then as she lay,
Her well-form'd Shape extended on the Floor,
Raising her self a little, Oh! what Heaven
Appear'd about her Neck and swelling Breasts,
That with her Passion heaving still, and falling,
Expos'd at large the beauteous demi Globes,
Soft as Swans Down, and white as Virgin Lillies:
Not Citheræa, when the Dardan Prince
Gave her the Prize for his transporting Object,
Was grac'd with half her Charms.

Arist.
Curst stubborn Traytress!

Damo.
Stubborn; why Sir, the Pride of the Resistance
Adds still more to the Pleasure of the Conquest;
I was born, Sir, to further your Delights,
And would not have you miss a Joy so singular,
Because the Nymph, forsooth, is coy and sullen.

Arist.
Thou'rt in the right, I will have her, I've now resolv'd on't.

Damo.
Besides, shall that old Rebel
That Fate ne'er durst intend to be her Husband,
Unless to be your Cuckold—Shall he boast
He has out-rival'd mighty Aristander?
No, were I you, possest with Means and Power,
I'd shew Distinction between King and Vassal;
I'd soon divert that scandalous Disgrace,
And have my Will to prove superior Pleasure.

Arist.
It shall be so; thou'st fir'd me, bring her on th'Instant,
[To an Officer.
'Twill be a proper Sport, join'd with the Musick,
I hear they are preparing.

Damo.
I've yet more News, and happy for ye, Sir.

Arist.
My best of Friends.

Damo.
A Chest of Treasure found of old Timoleon's,
'Mongst which, 'tis said, there is one Gem inestimable,
Hoarded, no doubt, for his rebellious Use,
Is seized, and brought ye hither.

Arist.
Ye Gods, this is too much, my Joys crowd on too thick.

Damo.
Long may they last, Sir. [Musick sounds.
Oh the Entertainment
Is just beginning; please to sit, Sir.

Arist.
My second self, sit by me.

Here Demetrius is brought in by Zizimo, disguis'd like Grimoald, and suppos'd bound; with him Timoleon, Pollidamus, Gomond, disguis'd as the Messengers of Craterus, then Cilon and a Chest.
Arist.
Is that the Ruffian Traytor?

Damo.
Yes, Sir, that's Grimoald, he had the same Habit
When he late 'scap'd me, he was doom'd, Sir, for the Gaunches.

Arist.
Thou shalt be cloy'd with Vengeance.

Musick sound, then a Song and Dance done, expressing the Reward of Tyranny.
Zizim.
The Sports being ended, Sir, and I hope suitable
To your great Thoughts, tho' somewhat moralizing,
Be pleas'd to taste a better Entertainment,
Luscious Revenge; here's Grimoald, your sworn Foe,
What Death, what Torture, for your chief Diversion,
Please ye t'allot him?

Arist.
I will consider on't,
'Twill take time, I'll have something new and exquisite
For such a Dog.

[Frowning on Demetrius.
Zizim.
Oh, Sir, Delays are dangerous.

Demet.
I'll be more quick with him,
He shall be torn in pieces instantly;
I dare pronounce it, I, Demetrius,
[Discovering himself.
Nearest of Blood to th'late Corinthian Monarch.

Arist.
Hah, Demetrius!—What means this?

Damo.
Treason! Treason!

Timol.
Contriv'd to crush your Dignity.

[Timoleon stamps, and Guards rush in, who with Pollidamus seize Damocles.
Pollid.
I hope you'll use your Interest for a Pardon, Sir.

[To Damocles.
Cilon.
Adsheart, what's here to do, within there, Treason! Treason!
Here's a very fine Business.

Gomon.
'Tis so, and falls exactly to do yours, [Kills Cilon.
my fine Court Caterpillar.

Cilon.
Ah Lard! I'm stuck.—Ah! here's a pretty Business.

[Dies.
Arist.
Betray'd! surpriz'd! Art thou then such a Traytor?

[To Demetrius.
Demet.
Here is my Answer.

[Brings up Timoleon who stares at Aristander.
Arist.
Thy Eyes, like Daggers,
Seem to stare at me. Hah! what art thou? Speak.

Timol.
My Name will stab thee worse, take it, Timoleon.

[Discovers himself.
Arist.
The Devil!

Timol.
Right, in th'instant come to damn thee.

Damo.
Oh, damn'd, damn'd Fate!

Demet.
I'll leave him to your Justice, noble Father,
I've Business elsewhere, drag that Hell-hound after me.

[To some of the Guards.
Damo.
Let Hell-hounds, if a Hell there be, torment me,
Gnaw, mangle, tear, so they do but lend an Hour
Of Joy to see that hoary Rebel's Cuckoldom;
The Rape was well contriv'd I'm sure: Curst Fortune,
To lour on such a blest Design.

Demet.
Stop, stop his Mouth, away.

[Exit Demetrius and Zizimo, Guards dragging out Damocles, and more appear on t'other side.
Pollid.
Nay, you're fast in the Trap,
My gracious Prince of Clemency,

Whence neither Earth nor Hell can ever save ye, and Heaven
I'm sure wo'not; your Creature too I'll see shall have
true Wages.

[Exit Pollidamus.

Timol.
Go seek my Wife, good Gomond, and deliver what
I late order'd. [Exit Gomond.
Oh all ye avenging Powers!
[Exit Gomond.
Now give me Patience to out-face the Horror
That strikes me from that Object; for not Mædusa
With her fell Gorgon Shield, nor Snaky Tresses,
Were ever seen so terrible.

Arist.
Since I am then so terrible,
Let Fear supply the place of proper Duty,
And get thee from me; for to turn the Notion,
The self same Gorgon thou art now to me.

Timol.
No, I'm ordain'd to be your Slave in waiting,
And have not shew'd ye yet Timoleon's Treasure.
Yonder's a Jewel, Sir, which, Miser like,
[Pointing to the Chest.
My Soul once doated on; my greedy Eye
Was never satisfy'd with gazing on it,
Nor my Heart free from Trouble for its Safety;
Yet being doom'd your Prize, the Robbery
I must bear as I can.

Arist.
Oh! I forgive it thee,
Take back thy Treasure so thou wilt be gone:

Timol.
No, no, 'tis past my Use now, and only fit for thine;
For Ornament then hang it on thy Breast,
'Twas once of a true Lustre; unlock the Coffer there,
And bring it to his Mightiness.
[Here the Soldiers open the Chest and take out Clindor's dead Body, Timol. takes it in his Arms.
Behold, Sir, here it is. Hah! what! d'ye start?

Arist.
The Boy! a new Mædusa, and more horrid:

[Starts and looks amaz'd.
Timol.
Here is my Gem; on this with covetous Eyes
I us'd to gaze, 'till I even crackt their Opticks;
My Heart was fill'd with Cares how to preserve it;
Yet mixt with Joy too, being the blest Possessor
Of this, my all, thy barbarous Power has robb'd me.
Unset the Jewel, sully'd its bright Lustre,
And what was noted of such hopeful Merit,
Had Time improved its Value, that great Monarchs
Greater than thou can'st dream of, or imagine,
Would have been proud t'have worn within their Bosoms,
Hast thou defac'd, for which thou art this Moment
Just hurrying into Hell.

Arist.
Hah! who shall dare
To force me to ride Post on such a Journey?

Timol.
Those that retain as small Regard for Tyrants
As Tyrants do for Justice or for Honour.
[Gives Clindor to one of the Guards.
All these here dare.
Stamps with his Foot, and more Soldiers rush in with Daggers drawn, and surround Aristander.
All these here, at my Motion, or a Word,
Shall quicker send thy Soul, thou purple Monster,
To those low Dungeons than etherial Flame
Could pierce thee from above.

Arist.
Senseless Bravado,
Thy peevish Age grown testy in th'extreme,
Now makes thee rave, else thou wouldst trembling own
There is Divinity about a King,
Which is perpetual Guard.

Timol.
About good Kings,
I grant there is a strong and sacred Virtue
That would unedge the Sword of Treachery;
But thou, first a Usurper, then a Tyrant,
Set up in Blood, and in it ever reigning;
Making thy Death an Action meritorious,
Hast nothing but the Fiends of Hell about thee,
That gape, and grin, and howl for thy Destruction.

Arist.
Well, I'm a King however, let that awe thee.

Timol.
Thou art not mine, Demetrius was my King;
A virtuous Prince, that govern'd still with Justice;
His Coronation Oath, Cement of Royalty,
(Which when a King once breaks, the Subjects Faith
May well be brittle too) he kept inviolable.
Thy ill built Title, rais'd on th'Chance of War,
And Revolution of one fatal Battle,
Weakly would force my Homage; especially
When Tyranny, like thine, is the Result on't.

Arist.
Rebellion do's authorize Tyranny.

Timol.
Cruelty and Injustice form Rebellion,
And that thou art worst Foe to human Nature,
To Justice, and to Pity, is shewn here.
[Taking and shewing Clindor.
Canst thou, thou damn'd, beyond the rage of Hell,
From all thy Pyramids of Power, give back
The rosie Breath that once perfum'd these Lips,
Pleasing my Ear, and ravishing my Heart?
Or those warm Springs that made this heavenly Cheek
Blush like Aurora, which could my Heart replenish
With Blood that it contains—Oh thou lov'd Angel!
My Soul's best Joy, and quintescential Part,
[Hugs and kisses Clindor.
How should thy Father's Spirits gush into thee,
And with the Remnant of my Life infus'd
Raise thee agen? but oh! 'tis impossible.

Arist.
My Soul relents, and scarce can bear this Object.

[Aside.
Timol.
Besides, where's my Clorona?—Oh Devil! Devil!
[Raising his Voice.
That Mischief, in the Heap, was half forgotten;
Why, what a Rout, what a dire Desolation
Has this wild Boar, with his sharp savage Tusks,
Made in my Bowels?—Yet shall I not dare
To gore him in Revenge.—Horror! Damnation!
Sheath all your Daggers in him! [To the Soldiers.
Dare! Stamps ragingly.
Not dare!

Arist.
Stand off, ye Villains, hear me speak, Timoleon.

Timol.
What, wouldst thou beg to pray?—Perdition seize thee!
That were more Impudence than yet discover'd,
To hope the Gods will balk my just Revenge,
By pardoning thy black Soul; no, let Hell take it
Fresh from the bloody Shambles where it dwelt,
[Ragingly.
Spotted as it is, not one curst Crime abated,
Else my Revenge were poor.

[Soldiers prepare agen to stab.
Arist.
Hear, for thy own Soul's sake.

Timol.
Unreasonable Fiend, but come, thy last then.

Arist.
Thou art a Soldier, and well know'st my Title;
Be it thy Glory then, if yet thou hold'st
In that craz'd Urn a Spark of the old Valour,
To let it now break out upon a King;
And let not Story make such hideous Blots
To shew how base born Vassals did thee Justice
Upon the King thy Master.—Do it thy self,
Come, thus unarm'd I dare thee.

Timol.
Dare me, dost thou?
'Tis then, because thou think'st, being all o'er Devil,
Thou hast not human Flesh enough about thee
To feel my Rage.

Arist.
If thou deny'st, 'tis Fear and Cowardice.

Timol.
Oh ye Immortals, Cowardice!
How that curst blasting Word has fir'd my Heart,
Nay, and resolv'd me now to do't my self.
Retire, my Soldiers. [They seem unwilling, but go out, he giving them Clindor.
Nay—no Words, I'll have it so:
And tho' thou hast deserv'd no Usage honourable,
Yet since there's something left thee, of a Soldier,
For Kingship's nothing—This last manly daring
Has arm'd thee for Defence— [Gives him a Sword.
There, now come on, young Wolf,
And thou shalt see how the old Man can muzzle thee;
For be assur'd, my Vengeance carries Thunder;
And whilst my Clindor's, and Clorona's Wrongs,
Sharpen my Point, and sinew my old Flesh.
The Force of Tyrant Armies were too small,
And I, in such a Cause, should conquer all.

[Here they fight, Timol. kills Arist. but is mortally wounded himself.
Arist.
I have it, and I think too, so hast thou;
That's yet some Comfort.—But oh! weak and poor
Is the vain boasted Vigour, that my Youth
Believed invincible—I would fain think now,
But that my Spirits, with my Blood, are posting
To their new some-where,—That's my greatest Pang;
Oh! that some welcome Blaze of Lightning now
Would dart, and crust all Nature in a Moment.
But Darkness comes instead,—Black gloomy Horrour;
Whilst shaking, with the cold vile Curse of Fear,
I struggle, sink, and plunge, I know not where.

[Dies.
Re-enter Pollidamus and Soldiers, with Clindor.
Pollid.
So, Tyrany is fal'n then—That's as it should be;
But what, my Lord, what means this Blood appearing?
You would not weakly sure attack a Lion;
You had in th'Toyle.

Timol.
The Royal Viper stung me
With the word Coward, which, with Reproach of Age,
Tainting my Honour, rouz'd th'old Spirit in me,
To take Revenge my self for my poor Boy,
And my belov'd Clorona—Send him after me.
[To the Soldiers.
For tho' I find the boarish Paws have scratch'd me,
Yet have I Life enough to see due Punishment
Done on his Monster Damocles.

Pollid.
'Tis preparing:
Nor will the Ellien Crowd be satisfied,
Till they're possest of Aristander's Body,
To use it as they please.

Timol.
Go, bear it to 'em,—Keep, keep House, my Soul,
A little longer, then away, and willingly.

[Exit leaning on Pollidamus.

SCENE II.

Enter Belizaria and Gomond.
Gomon.
Now, Madam, your propitious, Stars shine clear;
The Tyrant's fal'n e'er this.

Beliz.
Did my Lord send for me?

Gomon.
He did, Madam, to see the Execution done on Damocles,
And his proud Master, of whose cursed Race
Not one have 'scap'd the eager People's Fury.
I saw his Daughters led out by two Ruffians,
Who, because Virgins, are giv'n up by the Officers;
First to be ravish'd, to evade the Law,
Then executed: Yonder, I think, they come, brought by their Plunderers,
As I suppose, expecting your Reward,
Giving you full Revenge for your Son Clindor.

Enter, Gilmunda, and Amidea with Hair dishevel'd, dragg'd by Longin and Bilboe, their Swords drawn.
Beliz.
Have Mercy, Heaven, what dreadful Sight is this?

Gomon.
Look up with Joy, Madam, and take just Revenge
Upon the hated Offspring of the Tyrant,
That wallow'd in the Blood of your dear Son.
I must to th'General.
[Exit. Gomond.

Beliz.
Dear, dear indeed!
As ever tender Mother smil'd upon,
When the Birth Pangs were o'er, but yet alas,
Tho' my poor Clindor's murther'd; how are these guilty?
But then Revenge—These are o'th' Tyrants Blood,
As my sweet Boy—was mine.

[Sighs.
Longin.

Come, come, little Lindabrides, come along,
why here's [To Amid.]
Fortune in a Bag now; gad little
did I think to have ever been a Prince of the Blood, in
right of Alliance.

Amid.

Oh Misery, Oh help, ye Divine Powers!

Longin.

Oh yonder she is! I'm sure we shall have a swinging
Reward. D'ye hear, Corporal Bilboe, shall I make the
Speech, or you?

Bilboe.

Why look'e, I must be so bold, Serjeant, for all you're
my superior Officer, to tell ye you'll find your self a Fool,
to trouble her about it; a Pox on Rewards, as the Case
stands now; my Head's upon somewhat else, and a Plague
upon Speeches too; adzooks I have such a mind to my
princely Mistress here, that I'll make none for my Part;
Speeches will take up time, gad I'm in hast [Holding Gilmund.

Gilm.
Stab me, ye barbarous Slaves; oh kill me!
Kill me, but keep off your filthy Hands.

Bilboe.

Hands, why what's the matter with my Hands?—
Humh, 'tis true, they are not made of March-pane, as yours
are; they'll serve well enough, though, for what I shall put
'em too. Come, come, adzooks you must not stand upon
Punctilios now.

[Grasps her, she struggles.
Beliz.
Oh Heaven! can there be for poor Mortality,
A Misery so great to equal this?
And can compassionate Virtue look upon it
Without Abhorrence? my Heart bleeds for 'em.

Longin.

Hem, hem, we have got these two Women,
your Enemies, safe enough, and please your Honour; we
have heard how little Master has been us'd, and like ye;
and come now out of Respect forsooth, to know what Death
you'd please to have 'em die; whether hanging, or stabbing,
or cut-throating, or any way; we are ready, and please ye.

Bilboe.

Ay, ay, we'll revenge ye, I warrant ye; say but
you the Word, it shall be done, any way, and please your
Honour.

Longin.

And as for t'other, the ravishing part, od'slid I
han't had a Princess fal'n to my Share a great while; I warrant
ye, let me alone with her.

Bilb.

I like mine mainly well, faith; I love a plump full
fed buxom Bit, you must know: I'll revenge ye, ne'er let
your Honour doubt.

Amid.
Oh, if the Sense of Pity be not lost!
Quite lost, in all the Foes of Aristander;
Let a poor Virgin—wretched in th'Extream,
And fal'n from highest State to lowest Misery,
Invoke those Eyes that seem to be relenting,
To dart one Beam of Charity.

Beliz.
Oh my Heart!
And thou chast Goddess, beautiful Diana,
How shall my Conscience answer it to thee?
That I've fulfill'd the Sacred Laws of Virtue;
If I permit thy unpolluted Virgins
To suffer Shame, whilst in my Power to save 'em.

Long.

She studies a little too long, methinks: Oh, now
I believe she's feeling for her Purse.

Bilb.

Feeling for a Pudding, is not she? I'll tell ye, as I
said before, gad you'll find your self a Fool, Serjeant,—
I don't like these Delays; if we are not fobb'd at last, I'll
be hang'd: Oons, if I might have carried it, I had been married
to my Princess, or as good, by this time.

Gilm.
Oh most abhor'd of Slaves! Heavens! now, methinks,
My stubborn Soul could condescend to beg,
If I could get by't a Sword or Dagger.

Long.

'Dslight, I tell thee she is feeling for her Purse;
see, see there, now Corporal Codshead, who's the Fool
now?

Beliz.
No, it shall never be declar'd in Story;
Or said in times to come, that Belizaria
Expos'd the Temple of Virginity
To the vile Force of horrible Pollution,
Through her Default,—here Friends—I know you brought
These Prisoners thus, to shew the readiness
Of your Good Wills, in furthering my Revenge.
Take then my Thanks with this, and leave 'em with me:

[Gives Longin a Purse.
Long.

Humh—Why, there's the Devil on't, I was afraid
of this all along, now Serjeant Shacklehead, how much is't
Hugh?

[They stare at one another.
Long.

A hundred Duckets, Corporal, 'tis more than their
Cloaths are worth, however.

Bilb.

Cloaths, hundred Duckets,—hum—but then to lose
such a, such a, no gad it won't do; why look'e, Madam—
we thank'e heartily for your Bountifulness, but we must obey
our Officer, d'ye see, and then the Law, and please ye.

Beliz.
Oh, as to those, I'll vouch with my Authority!
Go, tell your Officers—I took 'em from ye,
Who nevertheless will so dispose of 'em,
The People shall be satisfied, both theirs
And my Revenges shall be perfected;
Go, go, for Shame; [They look on the Ladies and grumble.
Ha! sure dare not mutter?
For honourably deserting a vile Custom,
Invented by some Devil, as in Disgrace
Of all Humanity,—If you are Soldiers
You should have Honour, which abhors this Action.

Longin.

Yes, yes, Madam, we are Soldiers, and we have
Honour—But, but—

Beliz.

But what, can there be better proof of it than this?

Bilboe.

But those sweet, sweet, sucking Bottles; Oons, I
shall never see such agen.

Beliz.
Away, I say, and dare not dispute;
I'll rouze up Honour in ye, if you're resty.

Longin.
Come, there's no help for't; here's a good Purse, however
But, Corporal—If I had thought 'twould have come to this—

Bilboe.

Thought, Serjeant Suckegg, [Pushes him.
a Pox upon ye,
what could ye think less? well, never was such a Prize!
never was such a Pair of dear sucking Bottles lost! a Pox
upon ye.—Come away and be hang'd.

[Exeunt grumbling and cursing one another.
Gilm.
Oh, noble Action! worthy fame Eternal.
How does her sacred Virtue dissipate
The odious Mists that lately clog'd my Reason,
And made me know my self by true Reflection!
Best of thy Sex, permit an humble Penitent,
Converted by thy heavenly Influence,
[Kneels to Beliz.
And loathing former Errors, to adore thee.
Oh pardon my late insolent Behaviour!
Tutor'd by Hell, and blinded by curst Vice;
I could not see that Purity of Goodness,
Which now Calamity's true Mirror shews me.
But oh! let Angel-pity blanch my Crime,
And true Repentance lessen thy Resentment.

Amid.
Blest be thy Days, and doubly blest thy Nights,
Thou Patroness of Piety and Honour,
[Kneels on t'other side of Beliz.
And may this Deed, so worthy of Applause,
Be still thy Glory in succeeding Ages.
Thy Fame in Songs of Joy, be anniversary,
Whilst the whole Stock of spotless Maids renown thee.

Beliz.
Ye great Avengers, that from heavenly Thrones
Pour out the Viols of your Indignation
On impious Criminals, bear Witness for me,
That midst the Crowd of my own innate Sorrows,
Some Comfort gleams, that I have done this Justice
To Honour, and to you—Your Honour safe
From Violation; Death's a trivial nothing!
Pray therefore rise,—And know I mention Death,
Lest you should cherish a vain Hope—My Pity
Would save your Lives, as it has done your Chastity;
But that's impossible, tho' I wish it were not;
Your House's Ruin, being decreed by Fate,
And th'impetuous Crowd—all sworn your Enemies.

Amid.
We cannot, must not, hope it.

Gilm.
No, being freed from lustful Villainy,
By your angelick Virtue, best of Women,
I will meet Death, with better Resolution
Than ever yet I did a vicious Pleasure
In my curst Days of Riot.

Beliz.
Bravely said,
Oh, be assur'd, had I the Power to save ye,
Spite of the Sweets, 'tis said there are in Vengeance,
Each Hair that now is growing on your Heads
Should turn with Age to Silver, but it cannot be;
Your Race are all proscrib'd, and you must die.

Amid.
The Gods allot us Patience.

[Embracing her.
Gilm.
Courage, dear Sister.
Oh let the Arms of a new Convert press thee
Close to my Breast, with Amity unfeign'd,
And beg thy Pardon for all past Remissness!
Some Grace is yet for me; for now, methinks,
The Gods inspire me to assist thy Weakness,
To stem this Gulph of Fate.

Beliz.
Pass it o'er nobly.
And prove how far your Souls surmount the Vulgar;
Remember you're the Daughters of a King,
Which, if confirm'd by your last Scene of Bravery,
I yet engage your Persons shall be safe
From Violation of unhallow'd Eyes;
Nor shall your limbs be mangled, as intended,
But laid to rest within your silent Tombs;
With all Respect to virgin Innocence.

Gil.
Oh heavenly Breath!

Amid.
Oh, the good Gods reward ye!

[Both kneeling and embrace her.
Beliz.
And since the Sheers of Fate cuts off all Passions,
And with the Brave concludes Revenge and Hatred,
Look on me calmly, as a parting Friend,
That, in the Crisis of your last Extremity,
Gives ye two signal Tokens of her Love.
First this, [Kisses them.
with pitying Tears for your hard Fortune.
A present from my Love,—then this [Gives Gilm. a Dagger.
from Honour.
A Charm to save ye from insulting Cruelty.
Use it, ye Royal Victims, as become ye;
Then fall renown'd, and peace eternal crown ye.

[Exit.
Gilm.
She's gone, whilst thus bestow'd, her fatal Present
I grasp, with an undaunted Resolution.
Oh, what a world of Wealth had I possession!
Would I have giv'n some Minutes since for this,
Which now my Guardian Genius offers me:
For this—What's this?—A Dagger: What's its Office?
Why, 'tis to make eternal Separation
'Twixt Soul and Body, with one noble Blow;
That's all, and so to free us from Distress,
And put an end to Life's Inquietudes;
Yet see, how Nature shakes at the dire Motion.
Oh Coward! would'st thou still be miserable?
Here is the World, and here Eternity;
What a vast Freight of Hopes, and Fears, and Doubts,
Troubles and Joys float on that stormy Sea,
Which yet we're sure in th'end must swallow all?
Courage, my Soul, and Dagger hold thy Sharpness!
This Strife shall soon be finish'd; come, dear Sister,
Too late belov'd, but now, my Heart's, sole Joy,
Look up, and see my Life Blood make thee Recompense.

Amid.
Oh hold! for since you're now so good to love me,
See me die first. Alas! I'm all o'er Coward,
And tremble so, that did you not assist me,
I fear I should not strike the Blow to free me.
Let me then use the Dagger in your Presence.

Gilm.
The Aid thou hast from sacred Innocence
Will make thee bold, and charm thee with new Courage:
Besides, it is my Birthright, I'm the elder,
And should die first.

Amid.
Oh! having more of Years,
You have the more of Courage; simple Tenderness
Will make me swoon when I behold you die;
And leave my Body senseless to be sham'd
By some vile Ruffian: Oh pity me, dear Sister,
And shew me how to strike!

Gilm.
Hah! she has mov'd me
[Apart from her.
With her last Words—See how the poor Soul trembles,
Like a weak callow Bird, torn from its Nest,
That knows not where to get new Habitation.
Her Fears will certainly evade the Stroke,
And leave her to Abuses—'Tis resolv'd then.
Well, Amidea, you shall conquer me;
Give me first, one dear Sister-like Embrace,
And a kind Pardon for my past Offences.
And then, sweet Soul, farewel. [They embrace.
Oh Tyrant Destiny!
Now take the Dagger, and one happy Blow,
Struck home like this, [Stabs Amidea.
seats thee among the Stars.

Amid.
Ah, 'tis done, 'tis done, dear Sister, blest be thy Hand:
Kiss me, and take my last Thanks; Oh!—Farewel.

[Dies.
Gilm.
The last of rosy Breath, came coldly to me,
[Kissing her.
A second blow: And thus I give thee mine.
[Stabs her self.
Adieu, vain Life, thou childish Bubble, blown
A while about the World, flasht off, and gone.

[Dies.

SCENE III.

Discovers the Heads of Aristander and Cilon held by Soldiers on Spears, with their Limbs torn off, and held by others; who stand on each side of Damocles; who appears impal'd upon a Stake, on the side of the Stage; the Bodies of Clorona and Clindor lying in State, Timoleon sitting by it, holding Belizaria's Hand, Pollidamus, Gomond, Helmige, Ladies and Guards standing round 'em.
Timol.
'Tis now my Peace of Mind is perfected,
And dear Revenge is full; the Fate of Tyranny
At large is prov'd; rest then, sweet Souls, for ever;
And thou, my better half, live long and happy:
'Twill be the greatest of my Joys above,
To look down, and behold—Virtue rewarded.

Beliz.
Ah, what Reward, dear Lord, whilst you are in Danger,
And this lov'd part is gone, [Pointing to Clindor.
can Belizaria
Expect or hope for? Oh relentless Powers!
This last worst Blow, has fal'n on me unguarded.

[Weeps.
Gomond.

Hope better, Madam,—The Surgeon's last Account
made of his Lordship's Wound is favourable.

Timol.

Where's Demetrius?

Pollid.

The Prince, my Lord, went out in eager Haste,
having your Grant, and the great Governour's, in hopes to
save the Princesses, but the People oppos'd it, through their
Hate to Aristander, even to the last—and see his Highness
comes.

Enter Demetrius with a Dagger.
Demet.
Fate has been now too speedy, they're both dead,
And by themselves, with this: [A Dagger.
Poor Amidea, thy Virtue
Well deserved Pity, tho' it late was likely
To prove my Ruine.

Beliz.
Oh Royal Virgins! you have nobly paid
Bright Honour's Debt.—The Dagger's mine, my Lord,
Which was but lent to do that glorious Office;
As I, for the same Use, had long reserv'd it,
Whenever my Distress gave an occasion;
Please to return it, that it may be hallow'd,
And kept up as a Relick to Posterity.

Demet.
Madam, I'll not dispute your Pleasure.
[Gives the Dagger.
How fares my noble Father?

Timol.
Like one that holds his Soul betwixt his Lips,
Only to give some tender Friend a Farewel.
Royal young Man! Heaven shower down Blessings on thee,
Make ready there, all you that love Timoleon,
To give a Shout, and cry, Long live Demetrius,
Now rightful King of Corinth.

Pollid.
Allow'd by all, with general Joy, my Lord.

Zizimo.
His Spirits faulter, and his Face grows paler;
Raise him a little.

Timol.
If there were ought remaining of a Blessing
Which I had not bestow'd, thou Soul of Goodness,
[To Belizaria.
Pattern of Heroines, and peerless Wife,
With my last Gasp I'd give it.—But 'tis over;
The Life Love's Cordial kept so long, decays,
I've now no more Space, nor no more Breath to praise.

[Swoons.
Demet.
He Swoons, remove him to more Air.

Beliz.
Nor I a Soul, now thine has left its Body.

[Timol. is carry'd off.
Pollid.
Keep back the Lady, her Grief will more disturb him.

[She is going after him, they stop her.
Beliz.
Oh cruel Powers! are these then the Rewards,
The Comforts ye receive for patient Virtue,
To feel the utmost Pangs of Wretchedness!

Gomon.
'Tis but a Swooning, Madam, he'll soon recover.

Beliz.
My Brain grows hot, distemper'd Reason faulters
At this mysterious point of Resignation;
And when I look on those heart-breaking Objects,
The Chain of Sense is broke, distracting Sorrow
Turns me to Rage; [Looks after Timoleon.
stand off, for he that touches me
[Lifts up the Dagger, the Prince offers to take hold of her.
Fixes this here.—Give then just Passion way,
Oh, my lov'd Hero! [Looks after Timoleon.
Have then all thy Actions,
Refin'd by Honour still, and sacred Virtue,
Acquir'd no Doom but this, this dangerous Tryal.
But thou, my tenderest Nerve, [Looks after Timoleon.
my Soul's chief Joy,
[Takes up Clindor.
And Life, Blood of my Heart, how has thy Innocence,
That equaliz'd the Purity of Angels,
Deserv'd this Fate? Oh, let me bury thee
[Kissing him eagerly.
Here in my Bosom! Let thy Mother's Body
Be thy last Tomb, in which it first was nourish'd!
What! what! ye Gods, will ye not grant me this
To reconcile me! Oh! but you'll say we're taught,
Our Comforts are hereafter,—'tis well thought on.
[Lays him down again.
To purchase then the Joy hereafter promises,
And rid my Soul from its vast Load of Woes;
Besides, to meet my Husband and dear Son,
This post me to the Place where they are gone.
[Stabs her self.
Forgive, ye Gods, you should, if now I err:
Have giv'n less Grief, or else more Strength to bear.

Helm.
Oh, she is lost!

[Shrieking.
Demet.
Fatal and sudden.

Gomon.

Not fatal, I hope, Sir, the Wound, by chance, is
slaunting.

Enter Zizimo hastily.
Zizimo.

Madam, the noble General recover'd from his
Fit, wishes to see you.

Beliz.
Oh Heaven, can this be possible?

[She is carry'd off.
Demet.
Take great Care, good Gomond,
To hasten Art to give her Remedy. Come, Pollidamus,
Let's leave this Scene of Death, and to the People,
With kind Oration, settle our new Royalty;
Pull down the Fabrick of ill Government,
And found one upon Justice, Truth, and Honour;
Whilst all good Subjects, glorying in their Change,
Reflect on Ills, from Tyranny did grow,
And bless the happy Revolution now.