University of Virginia Library

ACT. I.

SCENE The Palace.
Escalus and Pisander.
Pis.
'Tis certain then the Armies joyn'd this Morn.

Esc.
There's no Intelligence from either Camp,
But by the joynt Report of Cottagers,
That from the Mountains viewed the distant Fray.
The Rebels have the Royal Troops in chase,
Whose broken Squadrons make a Flying sight,
And much disdaining to the Woods Retreat.

Pis.
They were the Kings last stake.

Esc.
This is the day
That crowns the hopes of our designing Queen,
Or sinks her Projects ever; for if now
The Rebels prove the Masters of the Field,
Conqu'ring Argaleon strait Usurps the Throne,
And Weds Edraste Partner of his Pow'r.

Pis.
The Slaughter of the Field will scarce suffice,
Or effect an Enterprize so great and dangerous;
To finish it, the Princes too must Bleed.

Esc.
Edraste through their Blood to Empire sails,
And we the Pilots hir'd to steer her thither.
The Queen to serve her high Designs preferr'd us
To the Dignity we hold, and dearly made
Our Loyalty the Price of our Preferment.

Pis.
When with bright Honours to her Plots she drew me,
I snatcht at the rich Wages, and ne'r weigh'd
The dangerous Task;—but I recant too late,
I'm sold to her Commands, and must perform.

Esc.
Soft, Theron comes.

Enter Theron.
Ther.
Unhappy Greece! Escalus, Pisander!

Esc.
There's Terror in that Voice; how fares the King?

Pis.
How brooks he the suppos'd Defeat?

The.
So various are the Transports of his Rage,
That with each minute his Resolves are chang'd:
Sometimes defies aloud the Rebel Pow'rs,
Threatning swift Vengeance; then despairs agen,
And cries all's lost, the Fates are Factious too!
Thus tost with Doubts, and starting from his Chair
He grasps his Scepter, cries I have thee still;
Nor shall the Furies wrest thee: then o'th' sudden
Disdaining casts it from him; thou'rt a Serpent,
Away infectious Rod, thou fir'st my Hand.

Esc.
The Kings last hopes depend on your Sage Councils;
Say, what will you advise in these extreams?

The.
The growing ill past Cure he neglected,
And now blames his Physicians want of Skill;
Because we cannot from the Dead restore.
I'll haste, and with dissembled hopes support
His drooping Spirits, and prevent Despair,
Which yet in my own Breast I cannot quell.

[Exit]
Esc.
How temperate is this Politician grown!
The publique Troubles seem t'afflict him now,
Though most industrious once t'embroil a State
In Civil Jars; till Ages Winter chill'd
His Factious Blood, congealed his working Brain;
And now the Dotard's Loyal for his Ease.

Enter the Queen with Letters.
Qu.
See, Lords; th'Intelligence of Conquerors,
Like Victory comes wing'd: the King as yet
Has no Particulars o'th' Fight,
Whil'st from Argaleon's Camp I am inform'd
That in the general Rout and hot Pursuit
O'th' Royal Forces, both the Princes fell:
Now then Arviola alone remains
The Obstacle of my Edraste's Glory.

Esc.
We are your Creatures, Madam, by your Favour
Possess the height of Dignity we hold.

Pis.
And shou'd be proud to perish in your Service.

Qu.
Experience, Escalus, has prov'd your Truth;
And for Pisander, my new Servant (in
His sparkling Eyes, his active Zeal I read)
I dare pronounce him resolute and bold,
By Nature form'd t'engage in glorious Ills;
T'embarque in a rough Sea of Court-Designs,
And share the Fortunes of a Plotting Queen.

Esc.
New Servant; Hell! New Favourite, she meant.
Ah Myrrhoe, thy Conjecture's true, I am
Supplanted by this Partner of my Projects;
Dull that I was, not to suspect before:
'Twas not to serve her Pride but Lust, she drew
This new Confed'rate in; and judg'd his years
More fit t'advise of such Affairs than mine.

Qu.
[To Esc.]
Enter Edraste.

Edr.
The Life you gave, I offer at your Feet.
By my dear Fathers shade 'tis nobler far
To die forlorn, than by your Guilt to Reign.
Your Life, which I, of all things hold most dear,
You prodigally stake to win for me
A Crown, which I of all things least esteem.
My private Cares alass! have too much weight
For my weak Mind to bear; how can I then
Sustain the Troubles that infest a Throne.

Qu.
Cou'd I give Being to a thing so Tame!
Rouse, rouse, thy self, Edraste, nor permit
My active Blood to freeze within thy Veins;
If thou want'st Heat, come, to my Bosom fly,
For I have yet enough of Warmth to spare.

Edr.
The rightful Crown at best uneasie sits,
But sinks the crusht Usurper to the Ground.

Qu.
These Thoughts wou'd more befit the Cell than Court.

Edr.
To me there is no Palace like a Cell.

Qu.
What serves the Cloyster for, but last Retreats
To such as have without success aspir'd;
Where having fail'd of glorious Action, they
Hush froward Age with the dull Joys of Ease.

Edr.
Heav'n has been pleas'd t'indulge my humble Thoughts,
Giv'n Heirs to th'Crown, which you wou'd wrest for me;
And I must hold it in two Princes Wrongs,
Both grac'd with Royal Gifts and form'd to Reign.

Qu.
Suppose these Lets remov'd, the Princes dead?

Edr.
Arviola, their Sister then succeeds.
Arviola, to whom I have sworn Friendship.
Arviola, that loves me as you do.

Qu.
Fond Girl, 'twas to your Loss you did contract
That Friendship, and must conceal it or perish.

Edr.
I but comply'd, in this, with your Commands,
You charg'd me love her.

Qu.
To dissemble love,
As I pretend Affection to the King;
And counterfeit so well, 'tis real thought.

Edr.
O Heav'n!

Qu.
Arviola comes, prepare,
And practise Artfully.

[Ex. Queen, Esc. Pis.]
Edr.
Instruct my Vertue Heav'n in these Extreams,
I must unnat'ral or disloyal prove!
Dissemble Friendship! O ye Pow'rs! Dissemble
With the open-hearted true Arviola,
That has not for her Foe one thought of Guil;
Hard Mother! cruel Fate! most cruel Love,
To watch the hour of my Distress, and then
To wound a Heart so much opprest before!

Enter Arviola, Myrrhoe.
Arv.
Dispise not Myrrhoe, my threat'ning Dream,
The Scene presented both my Brothers slain;
I saw their Royal Blood mixt with the stream
Of Common Gore; then as my Theocrin
Rusht on to Death; I started from my sleep
And lost th'unfinisht Vision—dear Edraste.

Edr.
Dearest 'Arviola!

Arv.
I sought thee to redress my Griefs, and find thee
As much opprest as I; 'tis some new Grief
That now usurps thy Breast, and I suspect
More Tyranous than ever rag'd before.

Edr.
Ah Princess! in this tempest of Affairs,
Nothing remains untroubled but our Friendship;
All other things are from their Channel stray'd.

Arv.
Yet since our Breasts are open to each other,
Let the Storm drive, we have one Harbour sure;
Heav'n so be-friend me as I love Edraste.

Edr.
And were Arviola my happy Rival,
I cou'd (I think) still prize her as I do
Heav'n knows I flatter not, she is my Rival;
[Aside.]
Yet then my dearest hopes more dear!

Arv.
Let's stop a while the current of our Tears,
And piously dissembling our Dispair,
Divert the pensive King; that Fate shou'd heap
Upon his feeble Age such weighty Ills
As Youth cou'd not sustain.

Myr.
Th'event's uncertain; yet, the sudden storm
As soon may scatter, and the Clouded King,
Set glorious as the Rose.

Arv.
Ah! Myrrhoe, thy Love wou'd flatter us,
As ours impose on him.

[Ex. Arv. Adraste.]
Enter Escalus.
Esc.
Stay Myrrhoe.

Myr.
Now Brother you are sad.

Esc.
Your late suspicion of the Queen proves true.
I cease to please, and her regard to me
Grows hourly Cold,
Whil'st all her kindness on Pisander streams.

Myr.
Despond not Brother, there are Joys in Pow'r
To Charm dull Age, when Beauty fails to please:
If Love deserts you, bend henceforth your thoughts
To Nobler Cares; convert that cunning now
(That hitherto has so successful prov'd,
I'th Queens designs) to your own Int'rest.

Esc.
Good!
Wee'll watch the Fate of this tempestuous Realm,
And make our Fortunes of the gen'ral wreck.

[Exeunt.]
[Scene drawn, discovers the King sitting discontented; Theron, Diphilus on each side of the Chair.
King.
Why was my Life stretcht out to this black day?
Death might have come long since, and found me ripe
With all my Honours-flourishing round my Head:
But now to Winter blasts I'm left expos'd,
Stript of my Leaves, and with'ring on the Bough.
Argaleon come, and press thy Conquest home.
This is our last Retreat, besiege us here,
Sack, Burn, Destroy, and finish my Disgrace.

Ther.
Your suffering, Royal Sir, this Glory brings,
That from your goodness, your distresses sprang.
For having Conquer'd i'th' pitcht Field (ensnar'd
By your own Vertue; which refus'd to spill
Your Subjects Blood) you treated with the Rebels,
Who su'd for Peace to keep your Forces husht,
Till with recruited Pow'r they might oppress you.

Diph.
Argaleon rais'd by your too liberal Favour,
Seem'd ev'n to cope with you on even Ground;
And wanted but the Crown to match your Height.
Were you as quick to punish a Delinquent
As to reward the smallest Worth, your Throne
Had still been fixt,
And proud Argaleon's Blood.

King.
Hold preaching Fool,
Too late your tedious Lectures you begin:
Where slept your Counsels whil'st these Mischiefs grew,
And might be ravisht by the tender Root;
Then you indulg'd my Ease, beheld my State
Float loose, whil'st I in soft Retirement slept;
Now rak'd me to the Helm, till the Storm fell.

Enter Arv. Edraste.
Arv., Edr.
Live Royal Sir.

King.
Look, I have Homage paid me! Theron, Diphilus.
Behold, two Princesses kneel at my Feet:
Ha! ha! speak Sirs, am I not yet a King?

Ther., Diph.
Most Sacred Sir—

King.
'Tis false, ye Sycophants, I was a King,
A prosperous Majesty;
But now my Empire shakes,
Opprest with its own weight.
Th'unwieldy State falls on the Founders Head.
[Enter the Queen.]
The Queen! must She be conscious too of my Disgrace!
O Aribell, How is my Fate relaps'd
Since first we met? Those Lawrels now are blasted
Which in my Myrtle Wreath I did insert.
When I espoused thee, Triumphs grac'd our Hymen,
And Captive Princes at our Nuptials serv'd.

Qu.
Nay Sir, be just still, tho' unfortunate;
Nor think the transitory Charms of Pow'r
Endear'd you to this Breast; this is a season
To excuse such active Love as mine,
That like the Dolphin shews it self in Storms.

King.
What Trumpet's that?

[Trumpet sounds.]
Ther., Att.
A Souldier from the Camp.

Enter Messenger.
King.
I read thy Message in thy drooping Brow,
Thou bend'st beneath my Fate, hurl it on me,
And crush me with the Burden; Thou hast Wounds,
And may'st with Honour speak of Vanquishment.

Mess.
Fly, Royal Sir, all's lost, O fly and save
Our Empires dearer half, your Sacred Life:
Nor think these Walls secure against the Shock
Of Rebels, with Infernal Rage possest:
Your strongest Fence, your Loyal Old Battalions,
Taught by your self to Conquer, in Pitcht Field
Are by these Troops of Furies driv'n and scatter'd;
And what I fear will shake your Temper most,
Your Royal Sons, by whom our Wings were led,
Turn'd in the Chase t'oppose th'unequal Foe
Till spent; on Heaps of slaughter'd Files they fell.

King.
My Sons both slain, my Legions too o'rthrown;
My Sons, my flourishing Branches both lopt off,
And I the useless Trunk left standing yet
For Passengers to descant on my shame:
Rend me consuming Lightnings Earth divide,
Till thy unfathom'd Centre be my Grave;
Nature her self should Shake when Princes Fall.

Ther.
Dread Sir, restrain this Transport, and resume
Your Reason now in your extreamest Need.

Mess.
Lord Theocrin, who in the Fight perform'd
What the Beholders scarce believed (and must
Despair of Credit when they shall relate)
Gather'd our scattered Stray, a poor Remain,
That scarce a Limb of the Old Body seem;
Which in the Clifts he posted, where they hold
Spight of the Foe, that scale the Rock in vain.

King.
'Twas well perform'd, we'll march to their Relief;
Get me new Forces rais'd, a sudden Host,
Like that which sprung from the dire Serpents Teeth:
Arm'd with Necessity and steel'd with Wrongs,
We'll rush at once on these fierce Savages,
And ravish from their Mouths the panting Prey.

Diph.
Forgive me, Sacred Sir, that I disswade
Your Fury from unfeazable Designs.
You must create the Forces you wou'd levy.
Your Loyal Cities, your think Fields to fill,
Long since were glean'd, the rigid Press scarce spar'd
Decrepid Age, and weeping Infancy.

King.
Peace Dotard, hast thou worn thy Sable Locks,
To wither'd Gray, and even that Gray to Baldness.
And art thou still contriving to Inch out
Insipid Life? the gen'ral fright shou'd cure
Your Agues, and ferment your freezing Bloods.
Hast and Proclaim our Will, left all our Males,
From lisping Infancy, to Bed-rid Age.
Set free th'imprison'd, bid the Sick discharge
Their Maladies; the Storm comes thundring on,
And in our sinking State all hands must work.

Qu.
The Good Old Man, that like an Infant slept
Till now, at last wakes froward; let him Brawl,
He'll quickly Rage himself asleep agen.

King.
Be it further publisht, to enflame our Youth,
That yet survive from the Consuming War.
If any dare so far tempt glorious danger,
To force the Enemies Ward, and bear away
Th'Arch Rebels Head by our last hopes I swear;
My Crown, and fair Arviola are his:
Empire and Beauty, Valour's Noblest Prize.
Our self in Person will Command and Dazle
The factious Host with full-beam'd Majesty.
Thus your Ag'd Monarch draws his Vengeful Sword.
Our Flame shall snatch the Foe that thinks us Cold,
There's none destroys like Time, and none so Old.

[Exeunt.]