 | The Tragedy of Zoroastres |  |
[Scene I.]
The Scene drawn, Oroandes is discover'd laying asleep uppon a Couch, when presently ye Heavens open, wherein ye Temple of Cupid appears. After divers sorts of Musick heard above, Cupid descends with 2 darts in his hands, one of jealousy, ye other of despair. Hee goes round Oroandes, at last sticks 'em both in him; which done he flys upp. Divers spirits meeting him. Hee sings this song when hee goes round Oroandes.Song.
Cupid.How sweet is Revenge to our Godship above,
To those that bee stubborn, and Rebels to Love!
Poor Mortals of Beauty shall stand in such awe,
That what is their Pleasure shall hence bee their Law.
Chorus of Spirits.
May they perish by disdain
And ne're bee lov'd again,
All they which scorn your flame.
Cupid.
Let jealousey his Companion bee.
When hee too does sob, and cry
And at ye feet of's Mistress lye,
Let him nere regain his Liberty.
For Mortalls of Beauty shall stand in such awe
That what is their pleasure shall hence bee their Law.
Chorus of Spirits.
They shall perish by disdain
And nere bee, etc.
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Why, foolish God, do'st thou torment my breast
And soe abruptly break mee of my rest?
[Hee falls asleep again. A Vision appears to him in ye shape of Polynice, and pulls him. Hee wakes.
Bee gon, fantastick image of ye Night!
Thou vain deluder of m'imposed on sight!
Aery nothing!
[Hee falls asleep again. The Vision comes again and pulls him, and then vanishes; at which he rises and speaks.
Hah! Come again!
Heavens! for me it sure does something mean,
There's something in it yet besides a dream.
How my Soul burns and akes!
Oh! I have lost my Courage with my Heart,
And Love at length has tryumph'd with his darts.
Who could resist that dazeling, glorious light?
Noe mortall sure could ever shine soe bright.
Come then again, thou sweet, deluding fair!
And tell mee where thy aery mansions are.
Then wing'd with swiftest love, to thee I'le fly,
And always in thy bosome melting lye;
Noe god shall love soe well in all ye scky.
All ye brisck sprights of heaven shall admire,
To see us keep soe long our sacred fire.
Had but Prometheus stay'd to see us reign,
From us he would have borrowed his flame.
Enter Polynice.
Poly.
Ohoo—
[Goeing out.
Oro.
«O, this is shee. Ye bright vision's here;
With ye same awfull dread does too appear.»
Stay, glorious Fair! ah, whither doe you goe?
Why doe you shun mee who am not your foe?
I who against great Love did once design
All my high thoughts to bloody war incline,
Am now a Votary to fair Venus shrine. [Bows to her.
Beleive mee, Madam, and I glory too
That to such Beauty I my Conquest owe!
Poly.
If Polynice you ever yet did see,
You durst not, Sir, thus talk of love to mee.
Ev'ry petty, forreign Prince that does come here,
Although they know before I am severe
And use with stricktest rigour to appear,
Yet to my face they dare declare their love
And feign would have mee what they say approve.
By Heavens Thunder
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And all their blood unto my Beauty spill.
Oro.
O direfull words!
Poly.
Thou wretch! how dar'st thou look mee in the face!
I thought I could have kill'd thee in ye place.
Sure all my pointed charms are gone today
Or you could not soe impudently stay.
Oro.
'Tis Oroandes, Madam, does implore, [Kneels.
'Tis Oroandes, Madam, does adore.
Poly.
Rise, Prince. 'Tis not fit you kneel.
Oro.
You cannot sure soe tyger cruell prove
As for to think that I am not in love.
By all th'innumerous gods! Shall I swear?
Poly.
You may bee perjur'd if you don't take care.
Oro.
It is impossible in a cause soe just.
As soon may Heavens light forgoe his trust.
Poly.
I must not love, nor can you mee Injoy.
Oro.
Oh, don't soe quickly all my hopes destroy.
Sure a little you may love; doe but try.
A little will suffice untill I dye.
Poly.
By Heavens I can't! what would you have mee doe?
I've not a spark of love now left for you;
Therefore in time withdraw your fruitless love,
And your great soul with nobler Passions move.
What souldier would yet fling his life away
When ye Commanders did keep back his pay?
In vain you lay your seige ye fort to win,
In vain you did this enterprise begin.
It is already stoutly man'd within. [Exit.
Oro.
She's gon, she's gon! What shall I doe? She's gon!
My eyes grow dark, and can pursue noe longer. [Raving.
The mist grows thicker, and rolls in clouds.
—Oh, my sick heart! [Milder.
What seige, what fort, what enterprise had I?
And under what commander must I dye?
Too late, great Cupid, I thy pow'r doe find.
Despair already seazes on my mind,
And I'me to melancholy thoughts inclin'd. [Exit.
| The Tragedy of Zoroastres | |