University of Virginia Library

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.