University of Virginia Library

SCENE the First.

Trebellius, Semanthe.
Tre.
Semanthe mourn, and I refus'd to share
Her swelling Griefs, and bear a Lover's Part!
Tell me, oh! tell me the unhappy Cause!
Then put my Love, my Truth upon the Trial.

Sem.
No, I conjure thee fly Semanthe's Fate;
Nor seek to know, what known thou wilt repent;
If timely cautious, thou may'st yet be happy.

Tre.
How art thou chang'd, Semanthe? How are those
Once radiant Orbs, in whose illustrious Beams
So many little Loves and Graces smil'd,
And thy attractive Beauties thus o'ercast
With the dark Clouds of Grief? But stranger still
How could Semanthe's Lips, which once pronounc'd
The lov'd Trebellius, bid him fly thee now?

Sem.
There was a Time, 'tis true, we deem'd our selves
The Fav'rites both of Fortune, and of Heav'n;
We fed, we flatter'd our deluded Souls
With the fond Hopes of mighty Joys to come;
But now Experience shews us our Mistake,
That all our Wishes, like th'uncertain Sky,
Are now serene and gay, anon obscur'd.

Tre.
Still am I lost, still wandring in a Maze,
Without a Clue t'unravel this Discourse,
This intricate dark Labyrinth of Wonder.
Tell me, thou beauteous mournful Maid, what Turn
Of giddy Chance, what Change of angry Fate
Thus palls our Pleasures, and obstructs our Hopes?

Sem.
To speak it, to reflect on it, is Death;
Alas, the Thought is impious as the Cause;
It is a Tale befitting only Hell,
Or the inhumane Villain to unfold.

Tre.
Stand fast, my Soul, collect thy utmost Courage,
Summon thy firmest Resolution now,
To bear the Shock of this approaching Horror;
I'm lost within my self, I doubt, I fear,
I dread to know, yet long to be inform'd.

Sem.
Now be inform'd, behold the Ravisher,
See the infernal Monster, he who acts
And boasts in Crimes, which Hell would blush to own;
'Tis he hath plunder'd, basely stole away
My treasur'd Love, my Honour, and my Peace.

Enter Lucilius.
Tre.
A Roman and Lucilius! Damn'd, damn'd Villain!
Drag him ye Furies to Eternal Flames,
Plunge him in hottest Sulphur, there to howl,
Curse his sharp Tortures, and repent in vain,
And all too little for a Crime so horrid.

Luc.
Do rail, and vent thy Spleen, I'll not disown
The Triumphs of my Love to Heav'n, or thee;
'Twas a luxurious Banquet, Jove himself
Could not but envy me th'Enjoyment of it.

Tre.
And can'st thou, Monster, Do'st thou, dar'st thou hope,
Because th'avenging Bolts of Thunder slept
T'escape my Vengeance? Know, tho' Heav'n withheld
Its Arm of Justice, yet Trebellius wo'not.

Luc.
Brav'd by this Talker? Draw then if thou dar'st,
And prove thy boasted Courage, or my Foot
Shall spurn thee from me for a Coward.

Tre.
Yes,
[Semanthe faints.
With Honour, Justice, Vengeance on my Side,
I'll draw, and give thee thy due Chastisement,
Base Ravisher.—

[Fight, Lucilius falls.
Luc.
Dishonourable Death! Slain by a Rival's Hand!
Is this my base inglorious Close of Life?
My Lawrels blasted by this Stroke of Fate?
But I've enjoy'd thy Mistress, dash'd those Pleasures
Which thou did'st centre there, and that one Act
Attones my forfeit Life, and sweetens Death.

[Dies.
Tre.
Lie there, thou Victim to my injur'd Love.
Rise, my Semanthe, view the Hand of Justice,
[Turning to Semanthe.
The Vengeance for thy violated Honour.
Alas, she droops, the poor weak tender Plant
Shakes with the Storms, and bows beneath the Tempest:
Let me conduct thee hence, perhaps repose
May calm thy ruffled Spirits, and dispel
The baneful Thoughts of all these Horrors past.

[Exeunt.
Scipio, Lelius Guards.
Scip.
Hah! who lies there? Lucilius by his Garb.
How ghastly, and how pale! All steep'd in Blood,
In his own flowing Gore! Haste, haste our Guards,
And seek the Author of this Bloody Act,
Be he the nearest Friend to Scipio's Breast,
His Crime shall meet the Punishment it merits.
Remove the Body hence—Uncertain Fate!
That we whom Yester's rising Sun beheld
Masters of half the World, should now become
Intestine Foes, and by each other fall!
Fall by our selves, for Scipio by himself
Is ruin'd and undone; but shall he still
Be this dull, whining, am'rous Slave, when she,
She that enchants him, answers with Disdain?
Lelius, this Spaniard, has engag'd her Heart.

Lel.
Now, Scipio! now thy Greatness must be prov'd,
This Instant all th'assembled Gods attend,
And listen from the Skies with anxious Care,
To know the Resolution of a Man,
The Conduct of a Roman thus distress'd.

Scip.
I am a Man, a Roman, and distress'd;
But what can I resolve, or which way steer,
Without the Guidance of some greater Pow'r?
Should I renounce this Love—why then I should
Be what I ought to be, Great Scipio's Son,
But can I? that's the Point; can I shake off
This Love, and be the Man I was?

Lel.
Yes, greater.
(Pardon the Boldness of a Friend) unite
Virtue, Resolution, Courage, and be free:
Wake your great Soul from this Lethargick Slumber,
Forget this idle Dream, and re-assume
The Judge, the Roman, and the General.

Scip.
I would, but cannot.

Lel.
You may.

Scip.
I have strove,
Resisted all in vain, Love still maintains
Its high Preheminence, whilst I, like Sisyphus
Rolling a weighty Stone up an Ascent,
Which soon, with Violence and rapid Speed,
Comes hurrying downward, only can begin
A Second endless Labour—Well, 'tis my Lot,
And what I cannot conquer, I'll endure.

[Exeunt.