University of Virginia Library

ACT. III.

SCENE I.

A Temple.
Enter King and Queen.
King.
That Day the Valiant Stranger does Alinda Wed,
The Parthian Monarch's Blood shall be untimely shed
Away vain Oracles: shall Priests perswade me
To forfeit Honour, and betray my Friend?
No, I'me resolv'd, let Fate pursue its course,
I'le never break my Vow.
Ha! You shadowy Phantoms, Airy Nothings; where,
Oh whither are you fled, you spitefull Sons of Fear!
Nights dismal Haunters! Groans, and no more
Sad Dying Groans in lifeless Figures cast:
Here, Thermusa, Memnon, Guards
Enter Ther. Mem. Lycast. and Guards.
Come fling your selves about me,
And be my Shields, my Towers, my Bulwarks of Defence
Against the Legions of the Prince of Darkness.
Where's the Queen? Come hither Memnon, Lycastes,
Oh! I'me one piece of Terrour, cold as Ice;
My Veins all frozen, like a Northern Sea,
Their Spring, and Fall, forget.

Quee.
You're frighted sure, my Lord.

King.
Dost thou not see
Yon horrid Skeleton, how its Gumless Jaws
Chatters; without his Eyes he stares, he shakes
His fleshless Fist, and Rattles as he walks?

Quee.
You fancy, Sir; there's nothing there.

King.
Ha! Nothing! nothing! why then 'tis gone:
T'has spy'd the Horses of the Sun bound o'er yon Mount,
Clapt on its Shroud, and dropt into the Grave.
By all my Fears the Gods have spoke the Truth,
And I must dye to morrow.

Quee.
How, to morrow!

King.
Yes, thou bright Partner of my Bed, to morrow.

Quee.
Ye Gods forbid; your Majesty's in health.

King.
'Tis an immutable Decree, I must
To all my Glories, Honours, Crowns, Contents,
Friends, Loves, and dearest Happiness on Earth
For ever, oh for ever, bid a faint
A—last, a parting sad Adieu to morrow.

Quee.
Some Melancholly Priest, my Lord, hath had
Too near Admittance to thy Royal Ear;
Spoke his false Dreams, and rais'd these causeless Fears.
Like Phraates, shake them from you; by Heavens
There's something in my Womans Breast which holds
More Courage than to bend to any Tale of theirs.

Mem.
Oh how the Poyson works.

[Aside.
King.
When Heaven speaks we shou'd regard its words;
Nor have they told me ought, but what from them
In Sacred Oracles they learnt, which still declare
Fortune's Reverst, Event preposterous,
Hurl'd into Being, e'er their Cause is known:
Strange Truths ript from the Womb of Time
E'er well Conceiv'd.

Quee.
Tell me, what is't they've said?

King.
Oh horrour! how I tremble to relate it!
That Day Alinda does the Valiant Stranger Wed,
Phraates Blood shall be untimely shed.
Is it not strange?

Quee.
Most wonderfull, indeed.

King.
And to confirm the Truth, glad of my doom
My Uncle as I stood,
Whom I had long agoe confin'd to Earth,
Left his cold Bed, and stole the form of Life.

Mem.
Fate or his Fancy works with us.

[Aside.
Quee.
But still the Gods are kind, thus to foretell,
When yet you may prevent the fatal Sentence.
Stay the intended Match.—

King.
Oh Name it not.
Heaven ne'er can wink at so much Perjury,
Such black Ingratitude, and cruel spight:
What when I've train'd them up to hope their hands
In Contract joyn'd, and on the brink of Joy:
When their full Veins are swell'd to all Loves heights:
It cannot be—Sound all, sound all to Horse,
By all my Honours, I grow Resolute;
My Blood it stirs, 'tis warm, 'tis hot, it burns;
Give me my Arms, I'le mount, and brave to's Face
This King of Terrours, in the Field of Mars.

Quee.
Hold my Lord and be advised: If Phraates Life
Be so unvalu'd in His Eyes, shall not
Thermusa's Groans be heard, her Tears regarded?
[Weeps
Grant her at least your pity, Sir, who is resolv'd
When her Lord dies, not to survive the hour.

Mem.
Oh how the Crocodile can weep.

[Aside.
King.
Help me, ye Gods, to bear this last Assault.

Quee.
Besides you may reward great Amanda.
Give him a frown t'inlarge his narrower Fate;
Load him with Honours, Offices, and Trusts;
Put in the Balance all your Friendship's Store;
Choose where he will 'mongst the Parthian Court,
A Mistress that may suite his haughty mind;
Sure this may satisfie his ambitious Thirst.

King.
Oh spare me—

Quee.
I cannot:
Gods, Kings, and every petty Mannor'd Lord
Will call you Fool and Coward thus to give,
In spite of their Advice, your Life and Crowns,
Your Daughter, Fame, and me, and all at once,
For an Allyance you shou'd rather scorn.

King.
Thou mov'st me Queen: by all the living Gods,
He's dead that doth advise the contrary.
Go raise the Court, draw all my Guards about me,
I'll stand this shock of Fortune e'er I fall.
Hast Memnon, and secure the Princess safe
At her own Lodgings, whilst that you dispatch
A swift Express to the great King Tygranes;
Invite him to Alinda's Arms and Peace;
Here take my Royal Signet, and begon:
Thus will I close with what my Stars advis'd,
Laugh the old Ghost to scorn in years to come,
When tir'd with Age, I'm pleas'd t'accept a Tomb.

Enter Artabandas hastily with his Sword in Hand, as from Bed.
Artab.
Ha! Royal Phraates, can you think of Tombs,
Whilst your Artaban is your Guard? this Sword
Shall skreen your Person from advancing Ills;
Your Subjects Treasons, and your Foes designs:
Death if sees me shall start back for fear,
And seek some other Prey to gorge his Lust:
Speak, speak the danger you are in—ha! mute,
What is the meaning of all this—not yet—

Quee.
The King is discompos'd, 'twere well to leave him.

Artab.
By all the Lawrels, all the Kindnesses
I've in his Service reap'd, I will not stir
A foot, till first I know his Enemy.

King.
Look round thee Artaban;
See what all Parthia can afford that's worth
Thy Favours, I will give the same, and more
To hold thee to my Breast, and keep thee there.

Artab.
Already you have given me more than in
Th'expanded Arms of the wild Deeps lye hid,
More than th'Entrails of the Earth can buy,
The opulent World is indigent to me,
Whilst I enjoy the blest Alinda's Love.

King.
Oh, that—

Artab.
Yes, that's beyond them all, not Heaven
Cou'd add a Grain the Treasure to encrease.

King.
'Tis this alone cannot be thine—

Artab.
Not mine?
Oh all ye Powers above! not mine, my Lord?
Rather say kindly that my Life's not so;
It's easier Torture to endure the worst,
The complicated Strokes of every Ill:
Fires, Plagues, Diseases, Sores, and Sicknesses,
Wounds, Racks, Dishonour, Deaths and Hell,
Than hear the sound of such a killing Word;
Sure, Sir, you do it but to try me, your Brows
Thus clouded in Storms, cover the Shine
That warms the Generative Seeds of all
My future Bliss, and my encreasing Hopes;
Put on the Day-light of your Eyes again.

K.
For ever I cou'd smile upon thee, see
Thee mounted in my Throne on my Right-hand,
Share all my Empire with me; nay, Content
Wou'd fill my Soul to be thy Subject made;
And this without Alinda ask, and by
The Powers that guide the World it shall be thine.

Artab.
And this without her I wou'd ne'er accept.

K.
I am too poor to give thee more, yet must,
Tho'urg'd by all the Gods, deny thee her.

[K. turns to Q.
Artab.
My Friend, why stand you hush'd, silent as Night,
As Infant-Winds in secret Caverns lock'd,
And tell me not whence is this sudden change?

[To the Lords.
Quee.
'Tis brave to be Resolv'd, shake not your Mind,
His haughty Fierceness by degrees will cool,
And Prudence, Sir, to Temper bring him back.

[Aside.
Artab.
Is that the Reason, 'tis plain Forgery,
Meer tampering with the Skies to bribe their Voice,
And speak my Ruine;—hear Phraates, hear King,
If all the former Services I have done
Your Empire, with the weight of those I'm yet
To do, may e'er Conjure you, hear me now.

[Kneeling pulls K. Robes.
K.
I will be dragg'd no more: if you are Wise,
Accept my offers, for 'tis all I grant.

Artab.
Can you so soon forget your Artaban,
Him, who but yesterday you lov'd so well?
Has he so little Interest in your Breast,
That a vile Sorcerer, Priest or Devil
By Charms or Inchantations thrust
His Image thence? oh my too rigid Fate!

K.
Forbear, and be my Friend, thy Suit's unpleasant,
And ne'er can change my Mind; so cease it now,
Or see my Face no more.

Arta.
Ha! Ingrate!
Pardon my Love, I call thy Father so—
[Aside.
Look o're my Breast, and see the Scars it wears;
These Seams torn to defend thy tottering Throne,
And tell me, tell me, deluded fearfull King,
Have I deserv'd such Infamous Returns?

K.
Provoke me not, I can be passionate.

Arta.
Be as thou wilt, I shall regard it not,
Thou'st done thy worst, and I defy thee now;
Oh Heav'ns, 'tis something sacred in thy Face,
Some Features of my dear Alinda there,
Which holds my injur'd Hands more than the Guards.

K.
Against my Person; seize the Traytor.

[The Guards draw about.
Artab.
—Stand off.
I know not how to yield, nor will learn now.

Quee.
Oh Heavens! how he looks, a brave disdain—
Strikes like the Darts of Lightning through his Eyes,
And kindles in my Breast Increasing Flames.

[Aside.
K.
Sure I have power to tame him; kill him:
The Guards fight, and some fall.
What will he cut his way to reach my Head?

Quee.
Hold, let him live to see his Punishment.

[They come behind him and disarm him.
K.
Well, now I hope you'll beg your forfeit Life.

Arta.
First thou shalt hack me into Atoms.

K.
Accept it as my Favour then.

Arta.
Nor thus:
My conscious Breast wou'd still Reproach this Arm
For all my ill-spent Youth, the Harvest of my Life;
My wreathed Laurels wither on this Brow,
Which I have gather'd at so vast expence,
And often purchas'd at so dear a rate.

K.
Then for Alinda's sake I grant it.

Arta.
Alinda's Name can charm my utmost Rage,
And Death it self wou'd be a Life for her.

K.
But with Reserve you never see her more.

Arta.
Must it be so, then know thy Interest King,
Keep this bold Lyon whilst he is in thy toyl,
For if he ranges once abroad again,
By all the violent Sufferings which I feel,
Not all thy Huntsmen with their Warring Spears,
Thy Guards, thy Armies, shall e're withstand his force;
But in despight of thee will seize his Right,
And from thy Bosome, tear it to his own.

K.
Gods! shall I bear this? thus to be brav'd,
Thus dar'd and threaten'd to my very Face,
I'th'midst of all my Court, by one disarm'd,
Whom with a blast of Breath I cou'd to Death,
To vilest Torments in my anger doom?
Go bear him off, and if he does presume
To tread on this forbidden Ground agen
His Life shall pay the forfeit of his Crime.

[K. Exit hastily.
Arta.
And am I thus Rewarded? O Heavens!
Who wou'd your Votaries be? Oh feeble Vertue,
How thin, how lean, how starv'd are thy Returns?
Farewell your Courts, I'le trouble you no more,
Let Cowards if you please your helps Implore.

[Bore off by the Guards.