University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE, The Palace.
Enter Xerxes Attended.
Xer.
Through all th'unmeasur'd Bounds of Wild Delight,
I never yet could tast substantial Joy,
Or know one Pleasure more than Common Men.
If I indulge my Appetite, I'm cloy'd;
Uneasy now, with what I lately long'd for:
If when my Blood is high I taste of Beauty,
I loose the Bliss, because my Power Commands;
The Peasant there takes more delight than I
That Travels through Dispair to sweet Possession.
When Deaf to Injuries, I make my way
Through others Ruine,
Stern Conscience stops me short, and will be heard,
She keeps me waking, when the World's at Rest,
And stuffs my Pillow with a thousannd Thornes!
[A shout at a distance.
Ha! what mean those shouts! they sound of Mutiny!

Enter Cleontes hastily.
Cleo.
Arm! Arm, my Lord! the City's in a Tumult;
Aranthes having forc'd the Prison Gates,
Has freed Mardonius from the Dungeon,
Who drags his Chains along the Crowded Streets,
And calls 'em brave Rewards for Loyalty.

Xer.
Insulting Traytor!

Cleo.
Another Party here produc'd a Rack,
Stain'd with the Blood of fair Tamira's Wounds!
Here in another place
Three dead Virgins, whom you had lately Ravish'd,
In spiteful Pomp were carried round the Streets,
To turn the Peoples Hearts against you;
And I much fear, their Fury will be fatal.

Xer.
Meet they no Opposition?
The Magistrates, do they stand Idle?
They'r out indeed; but shew an Hollow-hearted Power,
Unarm'd, and unresolv'd to quell 'em:
'Tis said that Artabanus too,
Is raising Friends to join 'em.

Xer.
Let him, Mardonius and Aranthes be prescrib'd,
Set on each Head an Hundred Talents:
Mean while, to make the Rabbel ours, let 'em
Have leave to Plunder every Rebels House,
Then set 'em all on Fire.
If Children, Wife or Servant there have shelter,
Let none escape, but bury all in Flames.
Allarm the Guards! Bar up the Palace Gates, and follow me.

[Exit.
The SCENE Changes to the City.
Enter Mardonius in Chains, Aranthes Bearing his Sword, Magistrates and People shouting.
Aran.
Fellows in Arms, and you my Friends of Peace,
Both equally oppress'd beneath a Tyrants Yoke,
Behold our Liberty in Chains;
This Loyal Arm and Head busied in Wounds,
And watching for our Countries Peace and Honour,
Half starv'd, and Fetter'd like a common Traitor;
Unask'd, and unadvis'd of you, have we presum'd
(Presuming first, you'd not condemn the Action)
To force the Prison, and set free this Man,
Free from a Tyrants Power, but still in Chains;
If you pronounce 'em worthily put on,
Him, and his Sword to your discretion we surrender,
To arm, to execute, or free himself and you.
Is it your Will he be remanded back,
To end his Life in shameful Bonds?
Or shall he take that Sword, inur'd to Action,
And lead you forth to brave Revenge, and Liberty?

People.
Arm him! Arm him! Liberty! Liberty! &c.

They give him the Sword and unbind him.
Mar.
If supple Words
My Noble Country-men must speak my Thanks:
I shall appear ungrateful for this Trust Repos'd:
If Blows have Eloquence, I'll be a Talker:
Let it suffice, that I am free and Arm'd.
Not my own Wrongs; but yours shall edge my Sword,
Your Liberties Infring'd, your Rights destroy'd,
Your antient Glory sunk in Sloth and Tyranny;
Your Ransack'd Houses, and exhausted Treasure,
Your Tender Virgins, and your Wives deflower'd,
The publick Wrongs, and poor Tamira's Rack,
Are Stings too venom'd, not to swell Resentment,
Ev'n to your Wishes Height! Once more, I'm Yours;
Let Heav'n but smile tho' Persia's Head lye low,
I've yet an Arm to ward the Tyrant's Blow.

Exeunt.
Omnes.
Liberty, &c.

Enter an Officer, and Four Soldiers of Artabanus's Party.
Offi.
Here Gentlemen.
Place your Selves at the Corner of this Street,
While I go privately to the House;
If we can bring his Lady safely to him,
He'll not be wanting to Reward our Care.
[A Shout.
Hark! the Tumult's near us!
Ha! What means yon Glaring Light!—It seems some Fire!
By Heav'n! the House of Artabanus all in Flames!
Nay, 'tis the same! I know it by the Portal! look!
Look! How the Rabble scramble for the Plunder?
What thankless Care they take to save
The Plate and Furniture! see! how some venture
Burning to be Rogues, and yet would Tremble
Should an Honest Cause Require 'em.
[Rabble within.]
Away with her, &c,

1st. Sold.
And see the Torrent Rowles this way.

Offi.
Ha! By Heav'n the Lady too! Tamira
And her Child rudely Drag'd along the Streets.
[Within.]
Away with her! to the Palace! to the King! away with her!

1st. Sold,
What's to be done? We are no number to oppose 'em.

Offi.
Let us run back to Artabanus, and if
Possible, bring him down to her Relief,
Before they carry her to the King! Run,
They are upon us.

[Exeunt.
Enter Tamira Plunder'd, her Hair and Cloaths disorder'd; the Rabble with her Child, she striving to recover it.
Tam.
O Barbarous Cruel Men!
If you are Men, be touch'd with Human Pitty;
If you seek Blood take mine, but spare
That harmless Babe! Tear not my Heartstrings from me!
You once were Young and Innocent your selves,
And now perhaps have Children of your own.
O! Could you bear to see 'em torn by Cruel Hands,
From off their tender Mothers Breasts?
Wou'd it not make you Bleed, and tear your Hair,
And pierce the Heav'ns with your shreiking Sorrows?

1. Rab.
Come! I say give her the Child, it has done us
No harm, and will do us no good!

2. Rab.
The Child's my lawful Plunder, and I will keep it.

Tam.
[Kneeling.]
Dear Sir, You look with Eyes of Mercy on me,
If you have Power Command, if Pity speak him fair,
So at your latest Hour, may you sweet Mercy find
Of Heav'n, as now you show it me.
But see! His Bloody Arm is Rais'd! O stop
[She Rises.
The Fatal Blow! O hold! For pity hold!
See, Sir, I've that will charm you to Compassion;
This Diamond—

[Takes it from her Bosom.
2 Rab.
Ay! That Diamond—

Tam.
The first dear Pledge of my Unhappy Love,
To save a more Endearing One;
Weeping I bestow you: 'Tis all i'th' World
Of Value I have left me:
And were I starving now for want of Food,
If this were only left to feed me, wou'd I starve,
So much beyond my Life I prize its worth!
But oh! so far beyond 'em both I love my Child.

2. Rab.
Ay! now I feel thee Woman! let's see the Ring.

Tam.
Here, Gentle Sir, and with it take
Ten Thousand Prayers—Sir—

2. Rab.
You must have no Child, till I have such another Diamond.

Tam.
By all my Woes I am a Beggar!
You cannot be so Cruel to refuse me now;
Believe me! search! take all! strip me
To pinching Cold, to every thing but shame.
Tear off this Idle Robe, it misbecomes me
While that tender Infant needs it.

3. Rab.
Pshah! away with her! must we stand to hear
A Woman Prate?

2. Rab.
Ay! Ay! away with her! &c.

Tam.
My Child! O Savage Creatures!

Om.
To the King, to the Palace! away with her.

Catching at the Fellow, she falls on the Ground.
Tam.
Ha! The King! Not all your force shall drag me;
Thus will I Dash the Ground, and tear a Passage
To escape him! Fierce Thunder strike me to the Grave!
Gape Earth, and take me living down to Horror!
Torments! any Hell! But Life and Shame! O!

Omn.
Drag her! away with her, &c.

[They drag her by the Hair.
Tam.
O Cruel! Cruel Men!

[As they are going off.
Enter Mardonius, Aranthes, and their Party.
Mar.
What meanes this strange Disorder Friends?
Why swarm you thus like angry Bees unhiv'd,
That sting in wild Revenge, or Friend, or Foe?
Is it because you want a Head to lead you?
Or do you blindly serve a Tyrant's Will?
Why is this Woman rudely drag'd along?

[They loose her, as half afraid.
Tam.
Relieve me Heav'n!

Mar.
Now by my Soul! the Fair Tamira. Help ho!

[They Raise her.
Tam.
Protect me, Brave Mardonius!

Mar.
Protect! Yes, and Revenge thee too; Villains!

Tam.
Hold! I conjure you hold—Good Sir, be mild,
And speak 'em fair, or that Revenge
May cost me dearer, than my Life—my Child!

Mar.
Ha! Forego the Infant, Slaves!
Or by the lifted Fury of this Arm—

Tam.
Oh! do not fright 'em Sir! see! they're merciful
And kind! they will not hurt the Babe!

Mar.
Whence comes this Insolence, you Hounds!
You hungry yelping Curs, that run at all
They set down the Child, which runs into her Arms.
Whence Mischeif cries Halloo!
Is Innocence your Game? Hence! to your Kennels Dogs!

Omn.
Fly! Fly! &c.

[Beats 'em off.
Aran.
Let 'em run on, they are not worth pursuit,
Their Fear will soon disperse 'em.

Tam.
But where's my Lord, my Artabanus, Sir!
Why is it he's not with you!

Mar.
Having expected him er'e this to join us,
We sent to know th'occasion of his delay,
And every Moment wait his Answer.

Aran.
And see, Sir, the Messenger is return'd!

Enter an Officer.
Mar.
Now! Have you seen the General?

Offi.
My Lord, I found him Posted on a little Hill
Without the City;
From whence, Enrag'd, he saw his House in Flames,
And led his Men with Fury down to join you:
As he was Marching on,
An Officer (whom just before h'had sent
To find, and bring his Lady to him)
With breathless haste Inform'd him that the Rabble,
Were that very moment dragging her to the Palace;
At this he Trembl'd, and his Lips grew Pale;
But on a sudden, starting from the Fit,
He March'd his Numbers in disorder'd haste,
Strait on to th'Palace, resolving there
To force the Guards, to Dye, or Rescue her;
And this delays him, Sir.

Mar.
Ill Tim'd and dangerous Error!
But hast! away again, and tell him
His Tamira's safe with me—If he shou'd force
The Guards, he runs into the Jaws of Death.

Tam.
O! Fly before the Danger meets him.

Ex. Officer.
Mar.
Some on before to stop the Fire!
Tamira be your Care Aranthes,
While I with these March on to his Assistance.

Ex. Tam. and Aran.
Enter a Second Officer Wounded.
Offi.
Arm! Arm!

Mar.
How now Soldier! What mean these Wounds?

Offi.
My Lord, they faintly speak our General's Danger.

Mar.
Where is he?

Offi.
This Moment Storming at the Palace Gate,
I left him there demanding his Tamira,
And threatning if refus'd, to bury it in Ashes.
At which the King in mad Revenge grown desperate,
Threw him an Handkerchief Distain'd with Blood,
And cry'd, take there! There's all that's left
Of thy Tamira now, the rest of her is Cold.
Swell'd with that Sight, he flew with Fury on the Guards,
And now Impatient of Revenge, like Wildfire throws
Destruction round him for a Time;
But must at last Expire, and let his curious Foes
With safe Amazement, view the wondrous shell that held it.
Alas! I fear you'll be too late: But yet
There's Hope in haste, my Lord, to stem this Flood of Ruin.

Mar.
O Fatal Error! on to the Palace! March!

Exeunt.
SCENE The Palace.
An Allarm is heard, several run or'e the Stage, and Xerxes in Disorder.
Omn.
Fly! Fly! they are Entring! they are upon us: Fly!

Exeunt.
Xer.
Confusion! How the Slaves forsake me!
They've caught me in the Snare! Nor can I 'scape 'em now.
Let 'em go all! I'll stand the shock alone!
The fearful Stag at Bay will Fight,
Will dye reveng'd upon his Hunters;
And the fierce Lyon's wilder in the Toil:
Shall Danger shake a Monarch's Soul?
Now by my Crown's Right Royal Majesty
I will not fall! What Hoa! my Beaver Slaves!
I'll put the Godhead on, and Destiny
Shall tear her Idle Scrolls of Fate decreed;
For she has written false of me! I will not dye,
Nor shall my Foes have power to Face me!
Thus with this Awful Front,
I'll look the Raging God within,
And Frown 'em into Fear!—Thou Pale fac'd Slave!

[Shout & Clashing.
Enter a Soldier.
Sol.
My Lord, Your Guards are half destroy'd,
The rest Revolted all to Artabanus,
Who like a Deluge, with his Force comes Rowling in.

Xer.
Let him Rowl on!
He meets a Rock will stand unmov'd his Roar,
And dash him into Dew.

[Shout again.
Enter Artabanus Pressing back his Followers.
Art.
On pain of Death let no Man follow me!

Xer.
How darest thou Slave!
With that Rebellious Face Confront thy King,
Or Tempt the Vengeance of a waking Deity?

Art.
When Kings are Cast in Molds Divine,
We find their Actions Great and Pitiful:
Pity's the Noblest Composition of a God.
But thou hast none! No soft Compassion ever toucht thee.
Tygers and Wolves, to thee, are tame! See here,
[The Handkerchief.
The ruful Flag proclaims thee worse than Tyrant:
Or if a nearer Name can reach thee—Devil!

Xer.
Traytor—

Art.
From any Mouth but thine, wou'd shock my Soul.
Or if I am a Traytor,
Ev'n those just Powers that gave me Vertue,
When they behold the Wrongs that rais'd my Arm,
Will sure allow, I was not prompt to Ill,
Not easily disloyal—My Vertue did its part:
If held, it struggled stoutly to be tame.
But here's a Force would break the strongest Hold,
And turn ev'n Pity to Revenge and Rage
If yet the Horrour of the Deed
Has left thee Temper, speak! What had the poor
Tamira done, to merit such a Death?
Why hast thou kill'd—
The tendrest Mother, and the softest Wife?

Xer.
But that I know to say, will gall thy Heart,
I'd spurn thee, Traytor, for this bold Demand;
Daring to ask a Reason of thy Monarch's Will:
But, as a God, to Thunder-strike thy Soul,
I tell thee, Slave, I Whor'd her to a Dis-liking,
And then she was unfit for Life:
Nor cou'd I brook to let her live for thee,
After the Stamp of Royal Love was on her.

Art.
O savage! bloody Tyrant! The Horrour of his Words
Has numm'd my Senses, and drowns my weak Revenge in Tears.

Xer.
Now, By my Glorious Brother in the Skies,
My Words have more than Power of common Kings;
They're something near! 'Tis Second Fate
To strike this hardy Soldier pale with Fear!
He weeps! he dies!—I've look'd him to a Ghost!

Art.
And art thou dead? Our Infant-Love for ever parted!
—No more of Woman now!—Farewell!
Nor need I this to dry my Tears,
The Thirst of Vengeance rages in my Blood,
And drinks 'em faster than they flow—
Hear, hear me, Gods! Revenge your Heads prophan'd;
[Kneels.
And as the Cause, the woeful Cause, is yours,
So from this Arm (your not unwilling Instrument)
Hurl swift Destruction to the Tyrant's Heart—

[Rising.
Xer.
I laugh at all that Fate can do! Come on, rash Fool!
And if thy Life's a Pain, (as, sure, a Rebel's ought,)
Thus Hand to Hand oppos'd, Death never took
A Nobler Form to face thee—

Art.
Now, By the Sun's Refulgent Ray,
I meet thee worthy of my Rage.
Oh! I cou'd thank thee that thy Blood's so high:
That Manly Fury in thy Eyes transports me!
It sets the Noble Front of Honour in my View,
And heightens my Revenge with Glory.

[They fight; and after some Passes, Xerxes speaks.
Xer.
Confusion! How he dallies with my Fury!
But thus I pour it all at once
And certain send thee to the Shades.

Art.
And thus the Gods re-pay thee—

[Both fall.
Xer.
Furies! and Hell! They've struck me now indeed!
But if there be Hereafter, I'll revenge it still:
Rebellion from the lowest Shades shall rise,
And give 'em fresh Alarms of War,
More dreadful than their puny Giants Rage:
The desperate Fiends, by me to Freedom led,
Shall dash their Chains against their Crystal Tow'rs,
And shake their Heav'n to Horrour!—Oh! I am faint!
My gushing Blood flows inward to my Throat.
And drives our Life before it! Ha! 'tis false!
I am not dying! No! I'm weary of the World,
And now will sleep for ever!—

[Dies.
Art.
When I behold this Sight, I wish to follow thee:
Death cannot be more terrible;
His Hand is on me, and his Looks are mild.
To be no more, is now to be most happy.
Oh, for a Friendly Witness of my Glory! Hark!
[A Trumpet.
My Fortune's kind, I hear 'em coming!
Enter Mardonius and his Party.
Oh! welcome Friend! My Fellow-Soldiers, welcome!
See there the Wounds of Persia cur'd, the Tyrant's dead:
By me he fell, and poor Tamira is reveng'd.

Mar.
Horrour on Horrour! Thy Tamira lives!
And comes with eager Love to meet thy Arms:
Oh! rather had she died, than thus to meet thee!

Art.
What means my Friend? Tamira living?

Mar.
Run! Haste, and tell her of this bloody Chance!
If she would see her Husband, she must fly.
[Exit a Soldier.
Alas, my Friend! That Gory Handkercher
Was only by the Tyrant thrown to gall thee:
Thy poor Tamira lives! This Moment dragg'd along
By the rude Rabble, I redeem'd her safe.
But hark! Aranthes brings her on! He faints!
[A Trumpet at a distance.
O Cruel! Gods! can you not lend one Hour
To a departing Lover!

Art.
Grieve not for me! Give to my Wife thy Tears;
She'll need a Friends Compassion: Let not her Sorrows
(For I know she'll mourn my Fall) be desperate;
Her little Infant will require some Care;
I charge her, live for that—
Commend me to her Heart, and let her know,
My latest dying Words, and Thoughts,
Confest her Loving, more than Life belov'd—

[Dies.
Mar.
He's gone! O Freedome dearly bought!
Unwelcome Peace! Without the Life that gave it.
But see, his frighted Widow comes! O mournful Thought!
O piteous Woman!

Enter Aranthes, with Tamira: she runs to the Body.
Tam.
Where! where's my bleeding Lord? Stand off!
O give him to my Arms! Hah!—Speechless! and pale! Oh!

Aranthes.
Help ho! she sinks; lets raise her from him.

Tam.
Oh! we must never part,
But with more Pain than Bodies lose their Souls.
Dear Sir, for Pity's sake oppose me not:
Ev'n in your Eyes I read a Friend's Concern;
But mine's a nearer Tye! a Wife! Alas!
I was his Wife, his tender Wife belov'd.

Mar.
Indeed, I pity thee: But yet, call Reason to thy Aid.

Tam.
Ah! Do I not, my Lord? Are not my Tears my Duty?
Have I not Cause to tear my Flesh, to bleed,
And dash me on the Ground?—
Oh! cou'd my Tears but fall like Showers from Heav'n,
This dismal Object, sure, wou'd drown the World.

Mar.
Be comforted, fair Creature!
Nothing is ours: Nature but lends us Life.
Since Death's a Debt that all must pay—

Tam.
Since he is dead, is there a Comfort left me?
Oh! I cou'd out-weep the Southern Clouds! Away,
And give my Sorrows Room: Stand off!
And let me fill my Arms with Woe:
[Embracing the Body.
Grudge me not this! This Ease of Misery indulg'd,
Let me but talk a while, and gaze, and kiss
His cold, unfeeling Lips, and you shall see me quiet;
Hush'd as the Cradle-Babe,
When chidden by its angry Parent to a Slumber.

[Weeps over him.
Aran.
Give her her Way, my Lord!
Her Grief swells higher when oppos'd.

Mar.
By Heav'n, this stubborn Heart, that has, unmov'd,
Walk'd by a Heap of groaning Foes,
At this sad Sight is melted down to Woman.

Tam.
Hush!—Who's that, weeps so loud!—You'll wake my Lord!
He is not well,—he slumbers, and a cold,
Damp Sweat is on his Brow! O my poor Love!
Hark! hark! He calls me in his Sleep! He chides;
Says I am unkind, and fear to follow him!
As if the Terrour were not in Life behind him! Ha!
What means this Friendly Weapon at my Breast?
It looks not, sure, as if the Hand of Chance.
But Love, had laid it, to relieve my Woes!
—'Tis so!—'Twas Love:—and Love applies it here!

[She stabs her self with her Husband's Sword.
Aran.
O fatal Deed!

Mar.
O rash Despair!

Tam.
Call it not rash, when there's such Ease in Death.
But Death, alas! is never wholly kind,
For tho' I'm pleas'd to think I had not Power
T'out live my Lord, yet Oh! it grieves my Heart
That I have robb'd an Infant of its Mother.
Oh! be a Friend to that; and teach him, Sir,
To keep the Middle-Paths of Active Life,
When wild Ambition, or too powerful Love,
With eager Heat would drive him blindly on;
Be kind, and warn him with his Parents Ruin.

[Dies.
Mar.
There broke
The tend'rest Heart that ever sigh'd in Love:
But Love was her Undoing; for once,
In wild Revenge, to right her Love betray'd,
She struck a Ponyard to the Villain Memnon's Heart.
The Gods have frown'd; but Men must pity her:
Nay, Heav'n but half resents her Fault, gives her
A kind, a not untimely Death: 'Twas then
Too late to live, when all the lov'd was gone.
Remove the Bodies, never more to part:
Living, one chaste Bed; now one Grave shall hold 'em.
But here, the Gods with Terrour strike Mankind.
[Turning to Xerxes.
Let Kings and jarring Subjects hence be warn'd,
Not to oppress, or drive Revenge too far:
Kings are but Men, and Men by Nature err;
Subjects are Men, and cannot always bear.
Much shou'd be born before Revenge is sought:
Ever Revenge on Kings is dearly bought,
Yet, to our Woes, the Gods this Comfort give;
From those that die, the Living learn to live.