University of Virginia Library

Thus it was Acted the Comical way; the Alteration beginning in ACT IV. towards the latter end, after these words,

—And injur'd Love—

Sulp.
Come Madam, flythe sight of what you hate;
If he pursue us stop him with his fate.

Ser.
She call'd me Monster, and implor'd their aid;
Hersilia on her Virtue is betray'd.
Slaves, let me pass.

1.
—Stop, or we'l make you stay.

Sert.
When 'tis deny'd I use to force my way.

[They fight, he kills one; Marcellina enters and takes up his Sword and kills another; the rest fly.
Sert.
How like a helping Deity you prove!
At once your pow'r has given Life and Love.

Mar.
What Love Sertorius?

Sert.
—That which was due
Once to Hersilia, is now so to you.

Mar.
Take heed; for though this passion seems to be
A gratitude, 'tis still inconstancie.

Sert.
If Love admits a change, though it does grow
From Virtue, will the change a Vice still shew?

Mar.
I fear it must; for Constancy's above
All other Virtues that belong to Love.

Sert.
If virtue meerly dwells in Constancy,
By that strange rule then all mankind shou'd be
Firm to the error which they first embrac'd;
For error is no more than Love ill plac'd.

Mar.
By this large rule, if ever you confess
Your Love ill plac'd, 'tis just to love me less:
If Love to those that most oblige is due,
Fortune disposes of your Love, not you.

Sert.
In Loves adventures Fortune busie shews;
But 'tis not she, but you, the Love bestows.
What diff'rence in this Argument is shewn,
To shake my Love, and to confirm your own!

Mar.
Mine is the same, and never can be less.

Sert.
Yours will enough secure my happiness.
Come Fairest, let us thus pursue our Friends;
Where you begin to help, misfortune ends.
Thus as you are appear a Deity,
Like an arm'd Pallas crown'd with Victory.

[Exeunt.
Exit ACT IV.
In ACT V. the Alteration begins at these Words.
Cor.
Am I thus paid!—Stay, Sir,
If it must be done, I will not for a little squeamishness
Lose my Rewards at last.

Mut.
O, I thought you wou'd repent.

Ver.
This is a strange Religion to be taught,
To shew repentance but for one good thought.

Mut.
Well then, you are resolv'd?

Cor.
I'le do't, Sir, as unconcern'd
As you are to command it.

Mut.
Take her away, and instantly about it.

Uer.
The Gods wou'd think that I enough had paid,
Were my Tears measur'd, or my Sorrows weigh'd.

[Exeunt.
Enter a Veteran.
Vet.
Sir, Titus brings word,
He saw Sulpitius with a Woman
By Numas Grove; his haste shew'd some disorder.

Mut.
What luck is this, thus to be call'd away!
I wou'd have made a little longer stay;
But I'le haste back.—It must not be delaid;
For ought I know Sulpitius may want aid.
No thought I have but comes clogg'd with a doubt:
When ever busie man does but step out
From his own usual track, he does confer
More power on Fortune than belong'd to her.

[Exit.
The Scene opens, and Corbulo appears busie heating his Irons.
Enter Mutius peeping.
Mut.
O, I am satisfi'd.—When thou hast done,
My best Corbulo, turn him out alone,
To wander up and down in his own night,
And let him seek his way without his sight.

[Exit.
Cor.
He was jealous sure. Now to my business.
Within there, Titus; go fetch the Pris'ner, and then
[Ent. Titus.
Wait at the Gate that opens on the Tiber,
And stir not till I call; 'tis Mutius Orders.

Tit.
—Well, we know it.

Exit.
Titus goes out, and fetches in Artabaces.
Cor.
Come, Sir, are you ready?

Art.
For what?

Cor.
For darkness.

Art.
—Hadst thou said for death,
T'had been more gentle: I'le not waste my breath
To ask for pity; bless but my last sight,
To let Verginia come and say, Good-night.

Cor.
Time's precious.

Art.
Mischief was ne're so hasty bu 'twou'd stay
If dying men ask'd a short time to pray:
So in the midst of all your Cruelties,
Allow me this devotion of my eyes.

Cor.
Well, such a small Request I'le not deny.

Art.
Then I forgive thy former Treachery.
[Exit Corbulo.
I've copied fair Verginia's eyes within;
Perhaps it wants a little finishing;
My last looks in my heart will perfect all,
And make the Copy serve th'Original.
Enter Corbulo with Verginia; Corbulo goes to his Irons.
Forgive me, Sacred Virgin, if my eyes
Begg'd their last looks might be your Legacies.

Ver.
What do you mean! what is he doing there?
What horrid instruments does he prepare?

Art.
Such as must rob me always of your sight,
And without death bring a perpetual night.
—O do not weep!—
I seem to shrink under the load of fate,
Not as 'tis mine, but as it proves your weight.

Ver.
My fears for you as kind and grateful are,
Lest in your suff'rings I shou'd want a share:
My grief seems great for want of miseries;
I shou'd not weep if I might lose my eyes.

Art.
O do not grieve! see for your sake I'le prove
Injurious to my self, more to my Love:
To make your sorrow prove the less for me,
Know that you love your Countries Enemy,
Th'unfortunate Armenian Prince, that strove
Against all Roman Conquests but your Love.

Ver.
'Tis no concern to love whate're to me,
Because y'ave been my Countries Enemy;
Shou'd therefore my uninjur'd love decline?
I fear it hardly wou'd had you been mine.

Art.
Yet think my Love's grown to a sad excess,
When ts own greatness makes me wish yours less.

Cor.
Come, are you ready?

Art.
—Yes, for miseries.

Cor.
Here are hot Looking-glasses for your eyes.

Ver.
Before your own let um true Mirrors stand.
And shew how death stays blushing in your hand.

Cor.
My Irons cool.

Ver.
—What gentleness they shew!
They from forc'd heats to cooler natures grow.

Art.
Fortune and Interest are disposers grown
Of men, they have no natures of their own.
Fair Vestal, let your sacred hand receive
This kiss as pure as they; and when you finde
My eyes are sunk in darkness, be so kinde
As but to tell me if it can be true,
That I have only lost my eyes, not you.

Ver.
My eyes shall still be yours, when you have none;
But if you apprehend when yours are gone,
Some other object may my heart encline,
I'le beg him if you will to burn out mine.

Cor.
Come, I must stay no longer:—If you dare—

Art.
Yes, exquisite Villain, I can stare
On death in any shape.

Cor.
—Then gaze on this;
'Twill make brave musick when you hear it hiss;
[Puts his Irons in the water.
What say you, does it sound unpleasantly?

Ver.
What does he mean?

Cor.
—I'le tell you instantly:
Stay, I must fetch another Instrument.

[Exit Corbulo.
Art.
His mischief varies only, not intent;
Unless he means a gentle death to give,
That with my life my torments may not live.

Enter Corbulo with a Sword.
Cor.
See how you're both mistaken: Here,
I bring you fate to give, and not to bear.
Here, Sir, at once receive this Sword, and mine;
Thus to your Fortunes all my own I joyn.

Art.
I have seen sudden starts to mischief grow;
But turns to good are usually more slow.

Cor.
What, do you wonder at this change in me!
Needs Courage arm'd admit such jealousie?
Follow me quickly, while the Coast is clear;
To stay or wonder wou'd be faults like fear.

Art.
Forgive me, Corbulo;
And since thou dost resolve to share in mine,
My gratitude will make my Fortunes thine.
—O my Virginia,—
My joys like men in crowds press out so fast,
They stop by their own numbers and their haste.

Ver.
I fear diseases may this health pursue;
For sudden Fortune has relapses too.

Art.
Banish these fears; against the Plagues of Fate,
A Sword and Courage is a sure Receipt.

[Exeunt.
Enter Sulpitius with Claudius, bringing in Hersilia.
Her.
Stay, what d'you mean? or whither shou'd we fly?
There's somthing in all this like treachery:
Take heed lest I suspect some ill design.

Sul.
Suspition will be more your fau't than mine.

Enter Tiridates.
Her.
Ha, Tiridates! O Villain!

Tir.
Look here, false man, and see thy death pursue.

Sul.
Death will as soon be sent from me as you.
Hold her fast Claudius, that she now may see
Whose due her Conquest proves by Victory.

Tir.
'Tis brave thy Courage seems from Justice sent,
To make thee stay and meet thy punishment.

Sul.
Is there a better or worse Cause in Love,
Where all their Titles by their Passion prove?
Loves Thrones by Conquest only are made good,
Like Empire where there is no claim in Blood.

Enter Mutius.
Mut.
How's this? Sulpitius, stay thy Sword, for thine,
Must ne're engage without the help of mine.

Sul.
Stay Mutius, do not so injurious be,
As to deprive my Love of Victory.
Look on that Sun, whose power's not less great,
Since she as well disposes life and heat.
Rob me not of my hopes while she stands by;
Love hovering seems to wait a Victory.

Tir.
Not all your Swords can so succesful prove;
Though they may reach my life, they can't her love.

Mut.
Dispatch him Sir; I have much more to say;
Though your love does, mine will not brook delay.

Sulp.
Thine Mutius! then Love has pow'r I see.

Her.
Sulpitius hold, or be my enemy,
Beyond the pow'r of Mercy to forgive.

Mut.
Come, come, we trifle Sir, he must not live.
—Ha!—

Enter Artabaces, with Verginia and Corbulo.
Art.
Whate're this foul play means, justice does guide,
Where Mutius is, my Sword to t'other side.
Sir, you seem to want—What mist does rise!
Or has not Corbulo put out my eyes,
And I gaze on my Brother, as I use to do,
Within my mind! Pray speak Sir, who are you?

Tir.
Your happy Brother, dear Artabaces,
And still the same in all things but my joy;
Fortune seems now grown weary to destroy.

Mut.
Ha! my Pris'ner by that treacherous Slave set free!

Art.
What do you stare—

Mut.
—O, It seems you can see.
Look there Sulpitius, nothing less divine
Than that cou'd charm a heart so rough as mine.
These are our Rivals too; just Fortune draws
Our Swords together in an equal Cause.

Art.
Now know, fierce Mutius, though no cause can be
So great as Love to make an Enemy;
Yet to raise up thy horror to a height,
Armenias Prince is sent to bring thy fate.
Thou cruel man, that didst attempt to prove
The ruine of my Country and my Love,
Now thou shalt see whe're Conquest be thy due,
And without numbers what thy Sword can do.

Her.
Sulpitius, hold; obey me yet at last,
And I'le forgive all thy offences past.

Sulp.
While I am arm'd I scorn so mean to prove;
You may forgive when I repent my love.

Tir.
We trifle time.

Art.
—Corbulo, that charge is thine.

Cor.
Kind Fate provides another Sword for mine.

Art.
Now, idle Fortune, modestly stand by,
And let just Love dispose of Victory.

They fight, Mutius falls, and Sulpitius stands staggering.
Tir.
Now Sulpitius, to whom's Hersilia due?

Sul.
Wou'd she were so to any one but you.
Use your advantage to th'unfortunate;
Honor is cruel that denies a fate.
Must I fall thus, and in Hersilias sight?
I stand to talk, that cannot go to fight.

[Falls.
Tir.
Sulpitius live;
As thou wert once my Friend, my Friend still prove.

Sulp.
That life thou giv'st is death unto my Love.
Hersilia, now I beg your cruelty;
I want no help to live, but some to die.

Art.
Brave man! I pity his ungentle fate;
I wou'd have none that love unfortunate.
—Come Tiridates,—
How trembling after Victory we go,
To pay Devotions which to Love we owe!
Fortune at last seems kind in her designs,
To bring our Victory before our Shrines.

Tir.
Ah Brother, I am still unfortunate,
Not less by Honour now than once by Fate.

Art.
What's this!

Tir.
Fairest Hersilia, can you pity me,
Not for your own but Honours cruelty?
I must not speak of Love; yet though her ties
Bind up my tongue, I thus may use my eyes.

Art.
Fair Vestal,
Though Fortune now at last seems kind to me,
Without you smile 'tis useless Victory.

Ver.
My joys must always wait on your success,
Since they take being from your happiness.
I beg now to return from whence I came;
And there while I attend the Sacred Flame,
My true concerns for you shall never cease,
And pray for yours while I enjoy my peace.

Art.
Will you forsake me now, and be less kind,
Than you once promis'd if I had been blind?
I had been happier then by miseries:
Now I lose you, that had but lost my eyes.

Ver.
Then you did need my help, now you are free:
Does Love exceed the use of Charity?

Art.
Yet let not Charity your Love exceed;
But grant me Almes as long as I have need.

Ver.
Alas, the World is full of storms I find;
I wou'd return for shelter to my mind.
Come, dear Hersilia, which way must we go?
Ah me! why do you look upon me so?
At once I weep and tremble too; my tears
Spring without grief, and without cause my fears.

Enter Sertorius and Marcellina.
Sert.
Look, Marcellina, see what Heaven bestows,
As a full recompence of all your woes.—

Mar.
Hersillia and Verginia!
Let me embrace you both, lest I shou'd wrong
My love, which else wou'd stay from one too long.

Her.
Dear Marcellina, joy seems perfect now:
Nor Love nor Fortune gives it without you.

Tir.
Sertorius!—
I now demand my freedom from your Sword;
In spight of torments I have kept my word,
And silently endur'd my Miseries,
Though all the while wrack'd by Hersilia's eyes.

Sert.
To such strict Honour all rewards are due;
All I once hop'd I now resign to you.
Here, fair Hersilia, may you as happy prove
In his, as I in Marcellina's Love.

Tir.
How all my happiness together flows,
If with Hersilia's Love your Friendship grows!

Her.
If I deny it wou'd ingrateful shew;
I give not Love, but pay you what I owe.

Sert.
How, Mutius and Sulpitius too!
Dead both together!

Sul.
—No, wou'd it were true;
Mutius you see has better luck than I,
He's quiet, past the sense of misery.

Sert.
By whom fell Mutius?

Art.
—By th'unfortunate;
One that came here to fetch not bring a fate:
While Tiridates liv'd and was not free,
I blush'd at my own life and liberty;
Hither I come either or both to pay,
But lost my freedom by another way.
'Tis I, Armenias wretched Prince, whom yet
Rome wants to make her Victory compleat:
Let Tiridates live, and let me find
But a swift death, and Rome's as great as kind.

Tir.
Sertorius, if your Friendship can extend
To love Romes Enemy, because my Friend,
No Conquest that you ever gain'd before
Can exceed this, or will become you more.

Sert.
Dear Tiridates, were he not to you
So lov'd a Brother, to his worth were due
All that you ask; 'tis more than Victory
Thus to embrace so brave an Enemy.

Art.
You Romans all the World sure must obey,
Since you know how to Conquer every way.

Tir.
Permit me, fair Hersilia, to present
Him whose dear loss I did so long lament.

Ver.
If for my sake you can more love bestow,
My life and honour unto him I owe.

Her.
Either of these are ties enough to prove
Strict Bonds, not Motives to oblige my love.

Mar.
My debts, Sir, and Hersilia's are the same.

Art.
You oblige one has nothing but a Name.
My heart, though not o'recome by miseries,
I lost a Conquest to Verginia's eyes.
While I was mis'rable she did express
Concerns like Love, but they are all grown less;
For she will now forsake the World and me.
Good Gods, give me again my misery.
Dear Corbulo, repent, and make me blind;
For when I'me wretched she'l again be kind.

Ver.
What have I done, that you shou'd tempt your Fate,
And beg the Gods to be unfortunate?

Art.
Did you not say you wou'd forsake me now?

Ver.
To go to Heaven, do I fly from you?
There by my pray'rs my love will best be try'd;
You shall have more than all the world beside.

Art.
It is a strange devotion takes away
The happiness for which it seems to pray.

Enter Emilius and others.
Ver.
My Father!

Emil.
—Ha, Hersilia and Verginia!
Does not the fondness of my eyes betray!
O let me thus confirm my happiness,
Till my embraces grow to weariness:
My joys encrease. Ha! Marcellina too!
All Comforts next to them are brought by you.
And since Sertorius finds his happiness
In yours, to Tiridates I'le express
My promis'd care, that he may happy prove,
Like you, in mine and his Hersilia's love.

Tir.
Those blessings that you give are such a store,
I almost blush that I must ask you more.
See, Sir, my long-lost Brother, that here brought
His life for mine, and his own ruine sought:
Our Country gave the Roman Victories,
Its King's now vanquish'd by a Romans eyes:
Yet Sir, your pity will like Justice shew,
To pay a love where she a life does owe.

Ver.
I owe him, Sir, my life, I do confess,
And mean to pay him more than love, not less:
I wou'd return and see the World no more,
And there for him unwearied Heaven implore.

Emil.
No, dear Verginia, such a piety
That robs me of thy sight, were guilt in thee.
Nor need you fear, brave Prince, your own success;
Our gratitude enjoyns your happiness.

Art.
Fair Vestal, since you must no more return
To those, pity the flames that in me burn.
You shall for ever have a Vestals Name,
And like them always keep alive a flame.

Ver.
Since 'tis my Fathers pleasure that I stay,
'Tis you that make me willing to obey.
Press me no more, till I by time may prove
In yours as well instructed as my love.

Art.
That breath all my misfortunes blows away;
The loss of Scepters Love can over-pay.

Sert.
Brave Sir, y'ave lost no Crown; for you shall find
A Prince that loves the Conquest of the Mind;
The great Augustus, whose bright Nature brings
More surer Conquest than his Sword or Kings.
Take up that wretched Man, that nothing may
Hang heavy on the joys of this bright day:
He's still my Brother, and may yet repent;
A hopeless Love must be his punishment.
How all our Joys are set in foils of Woes!
As after Darkness Light the brighter shews,
So from our Sorrows all our Joys encrease,
And unto Love Rome owes a Friend and Peace.