University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Enter Meleander and Lattinius.
Mele.
Why do I live with such a load of sorrow?
Oppress'd with tortures of dispairing Love;
A Sisters shame, my families dishonour,
Oh my Lattinius! Can this weight be borne?
I went to see the false one, and resolv'd
To have dy'd my self in her polluted Blood,
But when the Prison door I wou'd have enter'd,
My trembling Joynts refus'd to bear me farther;
My Ominous Nostrils gush'd forth Streams of Purple,
And to my thinking, all the Heav'ns appear'd
Like blazing Meateors hanging o're my head;
When straight a hollow voice had reach'd my ears,
Crying alloud, thy Sister's innocent;
'Twas surely more then the effects of fancy,
I left the place, and to my Chamber went,
Stretch'd on the Floor, and wash'd the Ground with tears;
My Sisters shame had left my memory,
And more distracting thoughts did enter in me;
Marcelia's scorn came fresh into my mind,
And to my wretched poor tormented Soul,
Set yawning, kneen devouring Fate before me,
In her most dreadful black, and hideous form.

Lat.
I grieve to see your wond'rous discontent,
And needs must own an equal share with you,
For ev'ry sigh that comes from your sad Breast,
Whole streams of Blood flow from my tender Heart.

Mele.
Enter Marcelia crosing the Stage.
[Mele. kneels before Mar. as she's going off.]
[She offers to go.]

Mar.
Alass my Lord, why should you talk to me?
To one that has already been deceiv'd,
O shall I e're believe a man again,
Since Ithocles, he whom I thought the best,
Proved false.

Mele.
Then why should you still love him?
Rather revenge his falshood, pitty me,
And place your love on one that more deserves;
On him, whose heart, whose Soul is all your own,
And ne'er can be anothers.

Mar.
So he swore,
And I fond fool believ'd it to be true,
But when he found my Heart was fixt to his,
My constant love so firm e're to be chang'd.
The Vows, the Oaths he made to Heav'n and me,
He forfeited, and gave his Soul away.
Then wou'd you have me trust a man again?
No, you bless'd powers, rather let me be plac'd
In a wild Desert 'mongst a herd of Beasts;
The Wolf, the Tygre, and the spotted Leopard,
Are less devourers then faithless Men,
You may as soon call back the Sun, stay time,
Prescribe a Law to death, as ever find
One true of all your perjur'd Sex.
A man! The very name is monstrous,
Nay, even the Breath that utters the vile sound,
Flies like infection over all the Air.

Mele.
Why shou'd you thus condemn the Sex for one?

Mar.
For one! for all; Oh you are all the same:
All of one faithless lineage, form, creation,
Like twins in infidelity, each feature,
And ev'ry vein fill'd up with the same falshood;
The Syrens Songs, the Crocodiles false tears
Are less deceitful then the oaths of men.

Mele.
Hear me mistaken beauty, by yon Heaven,
The words of Angels are not more sincere,
Then what I speak, my love as fix'd and firm
As Rocks of Adamant.

Mar.
Hear me my Lord, and hear me you bless'd powers,
To that false Image of your selves call'd man,
To you, and all your Sex I bid farewel,
My fix'd resolves stand a decree of Fate;
Therefore no more endeavour to diswade me,
For when I do consent to love again,
May he I love with loath my hate, receive me,
Eternal discord, raise her bar between us.
May I his love, as you do mine pursue,
And he fly me, as thus I fly from you.
[Ex. Mar.]

Mele.
Then farewel Life, and all my pains at once,
For by the Gods I'll not outlive thy hate,
Lattinius, if the love thou own'st be real,
When I am dead, do me this Courtelie,
Bear to this cruel Woman my last words,
And let her know, my love to her was true.

Lat.
O Sir, upon my knees I do intreat you,
Yet harbour patience, who knows, she may change;
'Tis certain Sir, that Ithocles must dye,
And time may turn this resolution from her;
The Ephesian Matron for a while was constant,
And wash'd her Husband's Grave with truest tears,
But at the last, quite tir'd with useless sorrow,
She did receive a Lover to her Arms;
Marcelia may do this, she is but a woman,
And subject to the frailties of her Sex.

Mele.
I cou'd, I hope she ever cou'd be moved
With endless patience I cou'd wait the time,
Outlive th'old Patriarchs age, in love, grow hoary
At her dear feet, and wear like Ætna's top,
My Fire, and Snow together.

Lat.
Doubt not my Lord.

Enter Bassanes.
Bass.
I beg you'd pardon my unwelcome news,
The Queen your Sister Sir—

Mele.
Why, what of her.

Bass.
Must dye this day.

Mele.
'Tis well.

Bass.
My Lord—

Mele.
'Tis well.
Wou'd in the Cradle sh'ad resign'd her breath,
What death Bassanes?

Bass.
Sir behind the Pallace.
The King decrees that she shall dye by fire,

Mele.
By fire! is that her doom? Well, 'tis decreed,
Semanthe thou shalt sleep, though but in ashes,
Leave me Bassanes, and Lattinius leave me.

Lat.
Sir I cannot leave you.

[Ex. Bass.]
Mele.
What saist thou boy?

Lat.
Indeed I dare not leave you.
Your Clouded brow foretells some storm at hand,
And I much sear 'tis on your self 'twill fall,
Your Sisters Death is strongly working in you,
And makes me dread the fatal Consequence.

Mele.
Thou art mistaken boy, my Sisters death,
I meet with all serenity and calmness;
For if she's guilty, 'twould be most unfit,
A thing so Leprous, shou'd infect the Earth,
If innocent, those Pow'rs that take her hence,
For all her wrongs, her Thorny Coronets,
Her bleeding Veins, and her more bleeding fame,
Have those bright Jemms in an immortal Crown,
What vast reserve of Glories to adorn her,
In the bright Realm of everlasting day,
As more then all her Losses shall repay.

Lat.
What then disturbs you?

Mele.
My dispairing love.

Lat.
It may not long be so.

Mele.
I fear for ever.
Then why should'st thou expect that I will live,
When by my violent Pains too sure I find,
Slaves at an Oar have greater ease then I,
Hard'ned to Labours they their Pains defie,
Dispair in Love 's the only misery.
We with fresh Agonies our Souls torment,
View the bright Tracks where th'adored Beauty went,
And with fresh Pains our endless Plagues deplore,
To think our setting Sun will rise no more.

[Exeunt Omnes.