University of Virginia Library

Scena tertia.

Scene, a private Walk:
Enter Phedima, and Orinda.
Phed.
Theramnes sure durst not commit a Fact,
Should forfeit all his Honour in one Act.
The Virtues of his breast so numerous were,
He could not in one moment raze out all;
Great Virtues, like great Empires, ruin'd are,
They by degrees must sink, before they fall.
To dare to write that which he needs must know
Was false, and I must needs resent it so.

Orind.
No more—I see Theramnes walk this way.

Phed.
Then, to resolve my doubt, Orinda stay,
And tax him of his Love, and by degrees
Search out the grounds of his late injuries;
And sound his heart, and how he does resent
My Cruelty, and his late banishment.
Exit Phedima, within the Scenes, to over-hear them:

Enter Theramnes.
Orind.
Theramnes, let me but one question move.

Ther.
Your pleasure, Madam.

Orind.
—Did you ever Love?

Ther.
(Aside.)
What does she mean! that she whom I adore
Should ask me that I ne're durst speak before.
Assist me, Courage, that I may but prove
So Valiant, as to tell her that I Love.

Orind.
What, does your answer need so great a pause?

Ther.
And can you doubt th'effect, who are the cause?
How can you think that he who sees your eyes,
Can be exempted from their Victories?
To doubt I love you your own pow'r suspect:
From such bright charms who can his heart protect?
Strangers to Love must Strangers be to you:

Orind.
(Aside ...)
See how his confidence flatters me too.
But I perceive his Art, he by this pause
Seeks to divert me from my Sisters cause,
By forcing me t'a blush on my own score,
That I may tax him in her name no more.
His guilt's so great, that he's asham'd to hear—
But shall— (... Aside)

—Sir, these expressions needless are;
[To him.
I know your Love.

Ther.
—What could my stars do more,
Then that Orinda knew my Love before?

[Aside.
Orind.
Since you your self a Captive do confess,
Theramnes, then leave it to me to guess
Your Conquerour.

Ther.
(Aside.)
How cunningly she would my passion hear,
Yet seems asham'd that I should tell it her!
Well, in such language I'le my passion dress,
She shall not blush to hear what I'le express.

Orind.
But of what date has this your passion been?

Ther.
Since the first day I had my Conqu'rour seen.
In a deep silence, and as great a fear,
In vain I spent a long and tedious year.
And like that year now it's whole course is run,
There find my self where I at first begun:

Orind.
And could your passion to this height advance,
And you not dare to give it utterance?

Ther.
My passion, Madam, I could ne're disguise
So much, but she might reade it in my eyes.
Beauties that in our hearts nourish a fire,
Like to the gods that do those flames inspire.
Their Servants silence seldom do mistake,
But know their wishes, though they never speak.
Thus I have utter'd it.

Orind.
—And only thus?

Ther.
Perhaps some few sighs an escape have made:
But those I checkt as too ambitious,
Fearing they had my high-plac'd Love betrai'd.

Orind.
Did you ne're write to her whom you ador'd?

Ther.
My passion ne're such courage could afford.
I never did, nor durst.

Orind.
—False man, I saw
That Letter which you wrote to Phedima.
Where you so boldly did your Love defend,
And to her heart so great a right pretend,
As if you there had been so long a guest,
That nothing could remove you from her breast.

Ther.
(Aside.)
What does she mean? Unless she jealous be
I Love else-where, and tryes my constancy.
If it be so, how can I happier prove?
For where there's jealousie, there must be Love.

Orind.
Speak, did you not presume to tell her, how
You claim'd her Love by Contract, and by Vow?
Can you deny't? or think I never saw,
Theramnes to the Constant Phedima?
Did I not see't by your own hand convey'd?

Ther.
Too late I find I'm by my King betray'd.
[Aside.
'Twas from another hand that Letter came:
[To her.
I neither th'Author, nor the Subject am.

Orind.
False man, did it not bear your name, and can
Your confidence deny you are the man?

Ther.
O pardon me, if Arguments I want
To clear my self of what I'm ignorant,
As well as innocent. That I may prove
I ne're aspir'd to your fair Sisters Love:
Nor ever could, nor durst; let this suffice,
I owe my Conquest to Orinda's eyes.

Orind.
Oh, now I find—this answer merits more
Than all your rudeness on my Sisters score.
Since thus your guilt too must extend to me,
Know, I can frown, and scorn, as well as she.

[Proffers to go out.
Ther.
Stay, cruel, stay, and frown again, so fair
A Beauty charms ev'n in her frowns does wear.

Orind.
Since your Audacious folly's grown so great,
Yes, I will stay; but onely to repeat
That sentence which my Sister gave before,
Theramnes, never dare to see me more.

[Exit.
Ther.
Condemn'd never to see Orinda more!
And am I banisht on my Princes score?
To which of these two shall I faithful be,
Thus streighten'd betwixt Love and Loyaltie?
For there I to my King have silence sworn,
Performing which I gain my Mistress's scorn.
On th'other side, should I, in my defence,
Accuse my King, and prove my innocence:
Should I disclose by whom those lines were writ;
And by mine, my Kings Treachery requite:
On this side then Theramnes would but prove
Falie to his Honour, to promote his Love.
But I'le be true to both, and act such things,
As shall express that I can out-do Kings.

[Exit.
Enter Phedima, and Orinda.
Phed.
Sister, his Conquest to your eyes is due:
And Loving you he cannot Love me too.

Enter two Villains, unespied by Phedima, and Orinda.
1. Vil.
We are to seize the Princess Phedima:
And she has took a private Walk this way.

2. Vil.
And Patasithes gave us charge, that we
Should take the safest opportunity.

1. Vil.
Oh, here's the prize; let's seize 'em,

2. Vil.
—Stay, Ile go,
And see first if the Coast be clear, or no;
Lest by some sudden rescue they escape.
[Exit second Vil.

1. Vil.
They'r object's more for pity, than a rape.
Had not our Patrons bounty made us bold,
Beauty wants pow'r when we're first charm'd with gold.

Phed.
Denying that he writ it, does express
He has no hopes in't, nor expects success.
Then, Sister, the design must only be
A deed of malice in affront to me.—
But that he scorns. No, 'tis some counterfeit,
And by some other envious hand 'twas writ.

Enter again, the second Villain.
2. Vil.
I've view'd around, and I can onely spye
One man within the prospect of my eye.

1. Vil.
One single man shall not disturb our prize,
For if he chance to come this way, he dyes.

[They rush, and seize the Ladies.
Both Ladies.
Help, help. Inhumane Ravishers.

Enter Theramnes.
Ther.
What sudden cry's this that invades my ears?
Ha! Ravishers! and my Orinda too!
My Sword must plead what my Love could not do.
[Draws.
Unhand 'em, Villains. Beauty never is
Ordain'd for such a rude embrace as this.
Unhand'em, or you dye.

1. Vil.
—That you shall do:
Our Swords shall act that kindnes, Sir, for you.

[Both Villains draw upon him.
[The Ladies step in between them, to part them.
Phed.
Hold, Villains, Hold.

Ther.
Give me leave.
My Title their base number does surpass;
I need no other Second, but your cause.

[Puts the Ladies by, and fights.
[Phedima and Orinda run out, crying, help.
Enter to them fighting, Darius.
Dar.
Since Honour does to th'weakest part incline,
Against such odds it makes the Quarrel mine.
Draws, and fights on Theramnes's side; the two Villains are worsted.
Give them their Lives.

1. Vil.
—We scorn a base Reprieve:
We'le either Conquer'd dye, or Conqu'rours live.

[Fights on, two Villains fall.
Ther.
'Tis your assistance has the glory won,
Your generous aid, Sir, has my Sword out-done.

Dar.
I'm happy in performing Honours Laws,
But shall be happier when I know the Cause.

Ther.
'Twas in two Ladies Quarrels that I drew
That Sword that's now made fortunate by you.
Beauties, whose pow'rful infl'ence is so great,
To guide our Swords, we could not but defeat
An Army in their Cause.

Dar.
Know you their Name?

Ther.
Strangers to that, are Strangers too to Fame.
Phedima, and Orinda.

Dar.
Ha! in their cause!

Ther.
—Fortune could ne're afford
A cause more Noble to Theramnes's Sword.

Dar.
Theramnes! O ye gods! Thanks to my Fate.
[Aside.
That at this hour has made me fortunate.

Ther.
The happiest chance that our kind stars could send,
That we their Lives and Honours should defend.

Dar.
In their defence you have your courage shown,
But you will shew it better in your own.

[Draws.
Ther.
This strange assault I cannot understand.

Dar.
My meaning's legible—here in my hand.

Ther.
That Language is too hard to b'understood.

Dar.
It will be plainer when 'tis writ in blood.
Draw, Traytor.

Ther.
—First, you'l give me leave to know
From what strange root this sudden rage does grow.

Dar.
Your parley does but my Revenge delay.

Ther.
Then take your Conquest this more humble way.
[Proffers his Sword.
For Honour holds my hand from a design
Against his Life who bravely gave me mine.

Dar.
Honour a Refuge for your fear procures.
That debt you owe my Sword, pay it with yours.

Ther.
Such a rude payment—

Dar.
—Such a weak pretence
Serves but to yield a Coward a defence.

Ther.
My patience cannot to that name submit,
I'm sorry you must have the proofs of it.

[Both fight.
[Theramnes draws off from Darius in fighting, and offers to speak.
Ther.
Sir, do but hear—

Dar.
—Must you a parley make,
Thus to take breath, when 'tis the last you'll take?

[Fights on, and gives Theramnes a mortal wound.
Enter to them fighting, Osiris, Phedima, and Orinda.
Phed.
What new assault is this?

Osir.
—Darius, hold.
Your fury 'gainst this Stranger is too bold.

Ther.
Darius!
The onely man on Earth whom I design'd
To be my Friend, my Murderer I find.

[Aside.
Phed.
Darius!
What Fatal cause enrag'd you to this strife,
To use your Sword 'gainst my Protector's Life?

Ther.
My Blood runs slow: Fate now Acts it's last part,
[Aside.
And Deaths cold hand moves faintly o're my heart.

Phed.
I'm bound in Honour for that aid you lent.

Ther.
That Bond you Cancel in th'acknowledgment.

Phed.
My freedom you releast, a gift so great,
That I must owe a Ransom, not a Debt.
[To Ther.
But, Sir, what rage arm'd you to this bold deed,
[To Dar.
Against Theramnes, whom the Fates decreed—

Dar.
Against Theramnes whom you have decreed
Should in your Love too happily succeed.

Phed.
Are these the grounds? Your jealousie remove,
He's Rival to your Courage, not your Love.
His Valour 'twas that did my Honour guard,
Which your rude fury did but ill reward.
From these bold Ravishers, whose blood he spilt,
[Points to the two Villains.
Rescu'd my Life, and recompenc'd their guilt.

Ther.
My ling'ring spirits do still faintly hault;
Death sure has laid a siege, not an assault.

[Aside.
Dar.
Since you mistake his Love, you shall not err,
I'le shew you't in a plainer Character.
Have you forgot so soon since you first saw,
Theramnes to the constant Phedima?
Dare you reade this?

[Gives her the Letter.
Phed.
What is't I dare not do?
[Looks upon the Letter.
Has false Auretta then betray'd me too!
[Aside.
This pamphlet I have seen, and read, and more—
But did Theramnes ever see't before?
Know you this hand?
[Gives the Letter to Theramnes.
—And do you know this Breast?
[To Dar.
Suspitious man, dares your weak faith digest
Such base low thoughts of me, to dare to think
My Virtue can grow less, or Courage shrink?
Your Crime had been more venial, and less strange,
T'have thought my Beauty, then my soul could change?
Whatever I durst Act, I dare defend.

Ther.
Is this the kindness of my King and Friend?
[Aside.
It bears my Name, but not my Character.
[Throws away the Letter.
My passion is not written there,—but here.
[Points to his Breast.
In Phedima's fair eyes such glories shine,
As may command all hearts to yield—But mine.
But from her Charms I did my Breast defend:
And I am not your Rival, but your Friend.

Dar.
And can you your own Name deny, and see
That Letter witness of your perjurie?

Ther.
That Letter, Sir, is forg'd and counterfeit.

Dar.
By whom?

Ther.
You must not know by whom 'tis writ.

Dar.
Then will I force—.

Ther.
—You shall not, Sir, nor must
I break my promise, nor betray my trust.
Since Honour does my secrecy enjoyn,
Rather than break my Vow, I'le own it mine.

Dar.
Then will I force that breath to be your last.

Ther.
That Fatal sentence is already past.
Dispute no more of that forg'd Character:
But what your Valour, Sir, has writ, reade here.
[Points to his wounds.
Yet though your Sword has made my blood ebbe low,
My courage still to the same height does flow.
And still my breast is large enough t'afford
Room for your Friendship, as it did your Sword.
No more your groundless jealousies pursue;
My Conquest to Orinda's eyes is due.
But I want breath, not words, for my defence,
To prove Theramnes's injur'd innocence.
Yet if I win your Friendship, I can't call
This my defeat, who conquer when I fall.
[Falls.
And may Theramnes now so happy prove,
Who in his Life could not deserve your Love,
To win Orinda's pity when he dyes,
[To Orind.
In Life your Slave, in Death your Sacrifice.

[Faints away, as dead.
Phed.
Now see what your mistaken rage has done,
And Triumph at the Conquest you have won.
Look there, and tremble, if you have a sense
Of horror equal to his innocence.

Dar.
He's gone! too late thy innocence appears:
The current of my rage now turns to tears.
Osiris, run, call all the help that's near,
Whilst I my helpless griefs eccho to th'Air.
[Exit Osiris.
Yet the kind gods have not plac'd Heav'n so high,
But that our sighs and pray'rs may mount the Sky.
Was this the onely way to reach his heart,
Where he too generously gave me part?
Could I thy Innocence no sooner find?
Is cruel Jealousie, like Love, too blind?
Enter Osiris, with Attendants, who take up the Body of Theramnes.
Thy blood by my unhappy hand was spilt,
Love, like Religion, in th'excess grows guilt.
Thus Love turns Jealousie when too sublime:
As Superstition is Devotion's Crime.
Use all the Arts that may restore his breath,
Or beg, at least, one hour's reprieve of Death,
To Osiris, and the Attendants, who carry off Theramnes.
That I t'his parting soul in tears may tell
My griefs, and take my long and last farewell.
[Exeunt Osiris, and Attendants.
But hold, one debt more to his Virtue's due:
Osiris, stay—with my dead Friend I'le go—
To th'other World—thus—thus.

[Goes to fall upon his Sword.
Phed.
—You are too bold:
Hold your rude hands.

[Stays him.
Dar.
—And does she bid me hold?

Phed.
Yes, Sir, she does; she dares not see you dye.

Dar.
Your kindness then recalls my destiny.

[Passionately.
Phed.
Darius, live—
—For by your hasty fall,
[Changing her voice.
Your Death would be too mild, and pain too small.
Your blood would be too Prodigally spilt:
Live, only to be punisht for your guilt.
Or, if th'experiment of Death you'd trye,
'Tis fit you know your sentence, e're you dye.
Death is but half the rigour of your Fate,
Living you merit, dying, force my hate,
And fall unpity'd. Now strike, if you dare;
Try if your courage equals your despair.
Then she whose kindness did your hand recall,
Will be more kind—she'l smile—to see you fall.

Dar.
Oh, now I dare not dye. A strange reprieve,
When cruelty has pow'r to make me live.
Before, her kindness did recall the stroke,
And now her frowns my sentence do revoke.
Beauties have this prerogative alone,
Their pow'r is equal, when they smile, or frown.
My guilt deserves the greatest punishment,
Tortures can yield, or Justice can invent.
And I could willingly endure the weight
Of all that I deserve, except your hate.

[Orinda, whilst they have been speaking, having casually taken up the Letter, and viewed it, hastily brings it to her Sister.
Orind.
What Seal is this?

Phed.
The Arms of Persia!
Know you that Seal?

[Gives the Letter to Darius.
Dar.
Till now, I never saw:
It was the Signet of the King.

Phed.
—This Seal
Does then Theramnes's Innocence reveal.
For, in your absence, Sir, the Persian King
To me has made his heart an Offering.
And had I broke my Vows to you, I'de been
No longer, Sir, your Mistress, but his Queen.
When I that Royal Present would not take,
He thought 'twas for some happy Rival's sake.
Knowing th'esteem I to Theramnes bore,
He judg'd my cruelty was on his score.
From thence, like you, his jealousie he took,
Whilst he our Friendship for our Love mistook;
Then forg'd that Letter in Theramnes's Name,
To trace our passions, and disturb our flame.
Then judge, Sir, whether I inconstant prove,
Who for your sake reject a Monarch's Love:
Since you now see I am below a Throne,
And have refus'd the proffers of a Crown.

Dar.
You have too much my burden'd soul or'e-charg'd:
My guilt's too bad a theme to be enlarg'd.
But now I find my Crimes will have no end:
At once I've wrong'd my Mistress, and my Friend.
But you've so much of Heav'n, you can forgive.

[Kneels.
Phed.
Yes, Sir, I could, could but Theramnes live.

Dar.
I with my tears will wash away my Crime:
With my loud sorrows I'le reach Heav'n and Him.
I'le pay such Incense for my black offence,
Till I take whiteness from his Innocence.

Phed.
Darius, rise—His Pray'rs, and Love's too strong;
And I am too kind to be cruel long.

Dar.
Thus you repeat those Triumphs you have won,
Your mercy conquers as your eyes have done.

Phed.
But see you pay such Honours to his Grave,
As may deserve that pardon which I gave.

Dar.
Since pray'rs nor tears cannot his Fate recall,
But so much Virtue by my hand must fall;
This to his dust is but a lawful debt,
Who shin'd in glory shall in glory set.
I will erect new Trophies to his Fame,
What from his Life I took, I'le pay his Name.

Orind.
My grief with yours, as Rivals, shall contend:
[To Phed.
I have a Lover lost, you but a Friend.

[Exeunt.