 | The Treacherous Brothers |  |
1
The First ACT.
SCENE. I.
A Garden.Enter Menaphon, and Orgillus.
Men.
O Orgillus! thon talk'st in vain of comfort;
To one so wretched and so Curs'd as I,
For my Complaints have forc'd the Rocks, the waters,
The very winds have sigh'd, & Brooks have murmur'd
Their kind Commiserations of my sorrow.
Org.
Despair not Menaphon, you are not wretched,
Unless your own Impatience makes you so.
Why may not she in time be won to love,
As well as other women? O my Brother!
Thou hast been bred in war, and dost not know,
The Subtilty, and Cunning of that Sex;
D'ye think because She has deny'd you once—
Men.
Once! one denyall! yes a hundred slights,
Repulses, Scorn, all her disdain can vent,
Have been my dayly, hourly persecution.
Org.
A hundred! is that all? were their name Legion,
A Legion may be conquer'd, fear it not,
For time can tame the Lion and the Tyger,
And with more ease a womans wandring fancy.
Men.
I but so long to hope, and be delay'd
Is worse then Death, to misery like mine
Org.
Perhaps your Sufferings may not long endure,
For womens minds Inconstant are and fickle,
Uncertain as the leaf blown with each wind,
And Flexible, as is the bladed Grass,
The'yl fly, but ev'ry step wish they were t'ane.
What they deny, they wish too were Snatch'd from 'em,
They'l fight, but allways wish to be overcome.
Men.
I but Semanthe is not one of these:
Org.
How know you that my Brother?
2
O too well!
For when this Tyrant Love first Seiz'd my heart,
When my tormented Soul cou'd hold no longer
I told her with a thousand sighs and tears,
The Secret which to keep wou'd have consum'd me.
With such a raging fire it flamed within.
I told her all the cause of my distress;
Yet she did not alone deny my suit,
But with a look of fury, and disdain,
She gave these words: Go wretch, below my Anger,
May thy Ingratitude to him that Lov'd thee,
That rais'd thee Monster as thou art, from nothing,
Dwell in thy mind till thou repent'st thy folly;
With that flew from me, leaving me alone.
My Soul all burning like a blazing Etna;
And since, If I but offer to approach her,
She turns from every word and ev'ry look,
That moves but for her pitty, as the Pestilence
Flew from my breath, and Bassalisks from my eyes.
O Orgillus, what canst thou now propose
What Remedy is left to save thy Brother?
Org.
What Remedy? Time, Patience, Opportunity;
The fiercest Torrents of a womans Passion,
Has both its Ebbs, and Flows, her tide of Hate
(Strong as it is, and bears down all before it)
May turn, and turn to Love; try her again:
You know the King, now Wars with the Sicillians;
And leaves the Queen, and Kingdom to your Care;
Cou'd any thing more favour your design?
Brother be ruled by me: you know this Garden,
Is ev'ry night her walk before she sleeps;
Here meet with her, and once more own your passion,
If she refuses you again forget her,
And leave the Scornfull Beauty to her self.
Men.
Forget Semanthe! 'tis impossible!
Sooner the Glorious Sun shall turn its Course;
Motion and Nature their great work give o're,
And the Eternall Axis Rowle no more.
Enter Semanthe.
Org.
Brother no more, the Queen is coming this way,
Now if you ever hope to gain your wishes,
3
Mean while I will retire to yonder Grove,
That Secresy, and Silence may befriend you.
[Exit Org.]
Men.
Oh how I burn! when I behold that face.
Turn, turn Semanthe, Cruell woman turn.
Sem.
Bless me! what mournfull Sound was that?
Men.
Mournfull indeed:
And from the wretched'st man that sound was sent,
That ever sigh'd for Beauty, great as your's.
Sem.
This villain here! how my heart shakes to see him.
[aside.
What mean you Menaphon?—
[to him
Men.
O I must speak;
Though Death with Torments, Tyrants ne're found out,
Stood ready for me, I must say I love you.
Sem.
As a Subject; and t'will become you.
Men.
O Gracious Princess, if that blessed form—
[kneels
E're harbour'd pity for a wretch distress'd;
Shew some to me, to me whom violent love,
Has tortur'd on the wrack of fruitless hope,
And anchor'd down my Soul in Seas of woe.
Sem.
I understand you not.
Men.
Then farewell Circumstance—
[rises
And since you are not pleas'd to understand me,
(Tho' I have oft discours'd this Subject to you)
But by a plain and easy way of speech,
All Superstitious reverence layd by,
I love you as a man, and as a man
I wou'd enjoy you; why d'ye start, and fly me?
I am no monster, and you'r but a woman,
A woman made to yield, and by example,
Told it is Lawfull; favours of this nature,
Are in our Age, no Miracles I'th greatest,
And therefore Madam—
[approaching her
Sem.
Villain, stand farther off; Ungratefull Monster.
A Crime, which Creatures wanting reason fly from.
Are all the Princely Bounties, Favours, Honours,
(Which with some prejudice to his own wisdom)
Thy Lord and Raiser has Confer'd upon thee,
In such a short time bury'd? has he made thee,
(From one obscure, allmost without name,)
The envy of great Fortunes? have I grac'd thee,
Beyond thy Rank, and entertain'd thee, as
A Friend, and not a servant? and is this,
4
The fair return of both our ventured favours.
Men.
Hear my excuse.
Sem.
The fall'n Angells may plead mercy,
And with as much assurance as thou, hope it.
This is not the first time,
Your treach'rous tongue has utter'd this wild outrage.
Think not I'le Longer bear your Insolence:
What Smiles, what friendships has my Lord showr'd on thee?
What a vast trust has he reposed in thee?
By leaving both his Kingdom and my self,
To thy protectian: Villain think on this;
And let it quench the Feavour in thy bloud.
Men.
All this I've done; and many a weary night,
Have call'd these thoughts to my most strict rememb'rance
Brought my soul up to honours bar and try'd
The Cause of love at Conscience high Tribunall:
But oh in vain, for now too late I find
There is no Medicine for a tortur'd mind,
But freedom from the torture it sustains.
Therefore Divinest Princess—
Sem.
Cease your Insolence,
Darst thou again with thy invenom'd breath,
After I had forbid thee, strive to tempt me,
To Act a deed, which my soul shakes to think on?
Know Traytor to reward this sawcy boldness,
I will not only paint thy barb'rous Guilt,
In its most hideous, black, Infernal form,
And to the Injur'd King present the Gorgon,
But rouse too my own Justice and Revenge,
Th'unquall'd Crime, with forfeit of thy Head.
[—offers to go.
Men.
Stay, stay, bright Angell, hear me but one word,
O! tho' my fault deserves a Punishment.
[Men. kneels & she returns.
Greater then his who stole Joves fire from Heav'n,
Be you Compassionate, and shew some mercy,
I must confess my fault unpardonable.
(But oh consider what the force of Love is.)
But yet indeed to own a love to you
Was too presumptuous, and I do repent it.
Sem.
Can it be hoped,
After a practise so abhorr'd as thine,
Repentance e're can find thee?
Men.
By your self,
5
And all those Powers that guard your Innocence,
Henceforth I never will in word or deed
Make Repetition of my Lawless Love.
'Tis not the fear of Death makes me sue thus,
But a loath'd detestation of my madness
That makes me wish to live to have your pardon,
Which Granted, (in your presence whom I've wrong'd,)
I'le let out that Ranck bloud which caus'd my folly.
Sem.
No, rise, rise Menaphon, you have my pardon,
And shall my favour if you keep your Oath.
But if you do not, by the Pow'rs that rule us,
By all the fury of an injur'd Princess,
I'le lay aside all thoughts of gentle pitty.
And when thy life shall answer thy black deed,
Stand by with pleasure to behold thee bleed—
[Ex. Sem.
Manet Men.
Men.
She's Gone, for ever gone, and I am lost;
Ne're speak of Love on forfeit of my life.
O why was I pick'd out from all Mankind,
To fix my Love on so much scorn and beauty?
And why since fate had destin'd me to love her,
Should any other man in peace possess her?
No, if he do, may fortune still pursue me,
With all her utmost and severest malice,
O 'twould be rare revenge for my scorn'd passion,
To throw a burning brand in the Kings breast,
And make his Soul feel tortures great as mine.
Work stronger in my heart thou dear revenge,
For thou art now all Musick to my sense.
Enter Orgillus.
Whose there! My Brother Orgillus.
Org.
The same; What have you spoke to her?
Men.
Yes, I have sued,
Kneel'd, wept, and begg'd; but tears and vows and words,
Move her no more then Summer winds a Rock.
She threat'ned to discover to the King,
All that I ever mention'd of my love;
Which had she done, I know my Orgillus,
My Life must needs have been the fatall forfiet,
6
Never to mention my rash love again:
Org.
And will you keep that Oath?
Men.
By Heav'n I will;
But yet I will not loose her unreveng'd.
This King that detains all my happyness,
Shall live in Torments great as I endure;
Curss'd Jealousy, that Poys'ner of Content,
Shall put an end to all his quiet here,
And O take heed Semanthe, for the Plot,
The fatall Plot that's working in my Brain,
Aims at no less a Price for my Scorn'd love
Then her too haughty life who has refus'd me.
Org.
Is all your violent love then come to this?
Have you so soon forgot Semanthes beauty?
Is that bright Angell you so late admir'd,
Become so very low in your esteem,
That you can talk of Aiming at her life?
Men.
O Orgillus! didst thou but know as I do,
The Pangs, the Tortures of a slighted love,
Thou woud'st not wonder at this sudden Change.
For when ill treated, it turns all to hate,
And the then darling of our Soul's revenge.
Enter Nearchus.
How now, the news with you?
Nea.
Lord Ithocles is just arriv'd at Court,
And brings the news of the Kings victory,
Men.
How victory! Oh bane to all my hopes!
Had he but brought news of his Funerall,
[aside.
This scornfull beauty then perhaps might yeild
Org.
Lord Ithocles the Herauld of his Tryumphs?
Is he the Harbinger? Curse of the name—
Nea.
Yes my good Lord, he is.
Men.
Nearchus leave us—
[Exit Nea.
Now Brother Orgillus,
I do remember the Kings wedding day,
Was Celebrated with all Martiall Pastimes, with Tilts
and Tournaments at the Solemnity
Where Ithocles this Fav'rite of the Kings
Got an Immortall fame to your dishonour.
Org.
Dishonour, yes, and such dishonour too,
Sprung from a cause so weak, that th'asham'd world,
7
In that days Tournament, had the kind luck
Only to Guide a Fortunate Launce against me,
A little to my disadvantage. Chance,
Meer Chance, the sport of Fortune; for Heav'n knows,
For years I've worn the Glory of the Lists,
And ne're was foyl'd before; but cause Semanthe,
Was pleas'd to give the Triumph of the day,
The Golden Lot of that one single chance.
To Ithocles, the fond Uxorious King,
To please his Queen, must sacrifice his Soldier.
The vain applause of this new-made Favourite,
Seduced his Royall reason to that poor
Ingratitude, that the exalted Ithocles,
Was mounted in my honours, to Command,
That very Army which I've led so often,
To Victory for this forgetfull King.
Men.
Forgetfull! yes.
Remembrance is a stranger to ingratitude:
Org.
Had he perform'd some mighty feat in War
To out-strip me in renown, subdued some Kingdom,
Which my weak sword had lost, then't had been Justice,
T'o're-leap my head, and seize my forfeit Lawrells.
But for a worthless prize, a sportive Trophey,
For foyling me in a poor idle Tournament.
To have my blasted Glories all torn from me,
Degraded, lost, stript naked, to adorn
This Insolent rifler with my borrow'd Plumes,
Is canker to my Soul, and ev'ry vein,
Run poyson at the thought.
Men.
O just Resentments,
And sure my brother can't forget that time.
Org.
Forget it Menaphon! Impossible.
By Heav'n it grates my very Soul to think on't.
O I have worn him still within my mind,
And wanted but an Opportunity,
To pluck this growing Phæton from his Glory.
Men.
Now is the time, O Orgillus! my brain,
Is full of Glorious thoughts for our revenge.
Methinks I have already in my view,
A Mapp of all the Mischiefs I intend,
To rid my thoughts of this proud scornfull beauty,
And thee of Ithocles, the Man thou hatest.
8
Org.
Can you doubt it,
When you conspire the fall of Ithocles?
What is it I would fail t'assist you in?
The Mighty Conqueror of the Universe,
Ran not more Hazard's in his years of War,
Then I wou'd do to take Revenge on him.
Men.
Come to my breast, My Brother and my friend.
Was ever change like mine? Some moments since,
My Soul was all a-burning fire of Love,
But that hot Love is in an instant gone,
And all my thoughts are now Revenge alone.
[Ex. Om.
The Scene Changes to the Pallace.
Enter Ithocles meeting Marcelia.
Mar.
Wellcome my Lord, my life, my Ithocles,
Wellcome, O wellcome, from the hands of war,
Itho.
O my Marcelia, do I once more view thee!
Once more behold those dear, those charming eyes?
By Heav'n, my Love, the King with all his Conquests,
Cannot have half the Joy, thy presence gives me.
Mar.
My dearest Ithocles, my best lov'd Lord,
O what a long and tedious Separation,
Has this war made between us! but for all
The fears I've felt, the many tears I've shed,
To think upon the many dangers you were in,
This happy minute makes a full amends.
Itho.
Speak on, and bless my ears with the dear Sound
Of that Celestiall voice, Musique more sweet,
Then is the Murmur of a slow pac'd Brook,
When 'tis with thousand little Pebbles crost.
Or the Winds Pratling 'mongst the wanton Leafs.
Mar.
But oh my Lord, when the heat of fight,
Your Sword imbrued in bloud, and your fierce mind,
Employ'd about the bus'ness of the War,
Then your Marcelia was not thought upon.
Itho.
My unkind dear why dost thou wrong me so?
By Heav'n the thoughts of thee inspir'd my Courage,
And when I look'd upon the bold Sicillians,
And knew 'twas they detain'd me from thy Arms,
I flew more fierce, then Thunder from a Cloud.
9
Not think of thee, why thou wert all my thoughts,
And ev'ry dream still shew'd me my Marcelia,
And when the King wou'd to divert his cares,
With Feasts and Revells pass away the time,
I have retir'd alone into my Tent,
And bless'd my self with thinking on Marcelia.
Mar.
And will you ever Love thus?
Itho.
When I do not,
The Flouds shall run back to their Springs again.
The Woolf shall fly and fear the silly Lamb.
But my best life, when shall we Crown our Joys?
When will the dear the happy minute come,
That Marriage must for ever make thee mine?
What tho' the Cruel hand of War did part us?
Now that is past, let us deferr no longer,
But make me bless'd above the rest of Men.
Mar.
My Lord, you know the King's consent is wanting,
And tho' I do, and will for ever love you,
I dare not Wed without his free Permission,
Since he has both a King and Uncles Power;
But more of that my Lord when he returns.
My duty calls me to attend the Queen,
And I dare stay no longer. O my Lord!
I had a thousand, thousand things to tell you,
When next we meet, (for we shall meet again,)
I will Command some happy longer minute,
And then compleat kind loves unfinish'd murmurs.
Itho.
My better self, after so long an absence,
You may with safety grant one happiness;
A kiss from those fair Lips wou'd be no sin,
Good Night my Love, thou dearest, best of women,
The thoughts of thy bright Charms wou'd turn me mad,
But that I live in hopes I shall possess 'em,
Thy beauteous Image fleets before my Eyes,
And shews the wond'rous Heav'n I so much prize.
[Exeunt.
The End of the First Act.
| The Treacherous Brothers | |