University of Virginia Library

SCENE. IV.

A Prison.
Ithocles discover'd Chain'd, and lying on a Couch.
A Lamp burning by him.
Itho.
To what may I compare this dismal place?
Sure 'tis a grave, A Tomb for living Men,
Or else a Place form'd by Conspirators,
To lay those dark and Damnable designs,
That dare not look upon the open day.
You mighty Rulers of the Heav'ns and Earth,
You Sacred Guardians of poor wretched man,
Do I deserve these Chains, this loathsome Dungeon?
You know my Innocence, you know what spells
Betray'd me to the Embraces of the Queen:
You know the Villany of Menaphon,
(For sure 'twas his most damnable design,
That did Convey me to that fatall place,)
By what curst drugs he shut my senses up,
That when I wak'd I spy'd my own undoing.
Enter Marcelia.
Marcelia here! then sorrow take thy leave,
And nought but Joy inhabit in my breast,
O to my Arms thou Goddess of my days,
Why dost thou thrust me from thee, O my Soul?
Do not thou join too with the Angry powers,
And make my mighty load of misery,
More heavy then before.

Mar.
No perjur'd Man,
I come not here t'upbray'd you with your Crime,
But since the King has given me his permission,
To let me see you; know my Lord I come,
To take my Eternal leave.

Itho.
What means my Love?
I know indeed my death draws on a-pace,
My innocence by Villany's betray'd.
But hoped my Marcelia wou'd have been more kind,
Then ever to suspect my Constancy.

Mar.
Suspect! Alas, 'twas more then bare suspition,
'Twas not the Power of the World cou'd move me,
Had I not seen it, to believe thee false:
But when clasp'd Arm in Arm I did behold thee,
And after that thou durst forswear thy Crime,
It adds the Sin of Perjury to Falsehood,
And makes thee seem a Mon'strous thing indeed.

Itho.
By the Eternal Lamps that light the Skies,
'Twas Villany and damn'd Contrivance all.
The Plot, and Treachery of Menaphon.
The Queen is Innocent as unborn babes,
Tho' fal'n with me in that curs'd Traytors snare.

Mar.
O, Men, Men! who wou'd e're believe your Oaths.
The Moon does not so often change her Course,
As you do Change your loves; I'le hear no more:
Let me but take one look from those dear eyes.
And now, false Sex farewell.

[offers to go.
Itho.
O stay, dear Angell stay;

Mar.
No, my unkind, false Lord, farewell for ever.

Itho.
Stay but one minute, stay mistaken sweetness,
[Kneels
Do not forsake your Loyall prost'rate slave.
Here I take root, and grow into my Grave,
Till I have gain'd belief of my Marcelia.
O, hear me, hear me, for by you bright Heav'n,
My oathes are true, the Gods can witness for me,
They see, they know my heart, my truth, my Soul.

Mar.
O Ithocles, Stop, stop that fatall Eloquence,
Such were the very Sounds that first undid me:
Thou true! no Cruell man, speak it no more.
I will not hear it named, it is a sound
I never can believe from man again:
Wou'd you be so unkinde t'undo me more?
Did I not see you false, saw your imbraces?

Itho.
What shall I say, is there no pittying God,
That will descend a witness of my truth?

Mar.
No there is none, they all have seen thy falsehood,
Farewell, and O that fatall name of love,
I now shall hear no more, Heav'n grant you freedom,
And may you long inherit happiness,
Possess in ev'ry thing your wish, whilst I,
Go seek some Melancholly Cell and Die.—
Ex Mar.

Manet Ithocles.
Itho.
Not hear my Innocence? thou sha't fair murd'ress,
I'le Thunder't in thy Ears till I am dead.
Nay, when thy scorn has layd my bones in dust,
I'le burst my Marble Load, and tell thee Tyrant,
Thou wert the Chiefest cause of my affliction:
Yes, thou sha't hear—
My murmuring Groans, thy murder'd Lover's Groans,
Whiist all thy Glorious Locks, those beauteous Tresses,
On thy Prowd Forehead fix'd with horrour stand,
Erected like the strutting Porcupine,
And the bright fires in those bewitching eyes,
Wane and burn Pale at my approaching Ghost,
And Wish too late for what thy Scorn had lost.
[Exit Ithocles.