University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Portia's Appartment.
Scene opens, and discovers Portia lying in a Melancholly posture on a Couch. Enter the Emperor.
Emp.
Such was Europa, such bright Danae was,
And such was Læda, thus transporting fair,
When with dilusive Arts great Jove compress'd 'em!
Oh! that I cou'd, like him, but change my Form,
T'assume that likeness, that wou'd please you most.
Gods might unenvy'd, keep their Joys above,
I'd wish no other Heav'n but my Love.

(She starts from her Couch, on discovering the Emperor.
Por.
Ha! is he here? and at this dead of Night!
Oh! guard my Virtue Heav'n from the Tyrant!

(Turns aside.
Emp.
Why d' ye start? why turn those Eyes away?
That like Achilles Spear shou'd heal the Wounds they gave.

Por.
O Sir, for Virtues sake with speed retire!
I must not hear, nor see you at this time.

Emp.
Oh! name not Virtue with that charming Face,
Beauty and Virtue are at Mortal odds,
And as irregular as Frosty Summers.
What has that melting form to do with Virtue?
That artful Dawb of the Deform'd and Old,
To force from Men a faint regardless look,
Who else wou'd never mind 'em.
Beauty and Youth abound with Love Charms,
And from their own bright source of Heav'nly Fires,
Difuse around soft Flames, and warm Desires.

Por.
Oh! name not Love, that is a noble Passion,
Disdains the barren Soil of guilty Minds,
And only sprouts in the warm Sun of Virtue.
Can'st thou, that tamely bares insulting Nations,
Seest Tyrants burgeon on each side, each day,
Without one Check, can that low groveling Soul
Pretend to reach the lofty hights of Love?

Emp.
Mistaken Notions lead your sense astray;
Love dwells not in the noisie busie Breast,
But in the sweet Retreat of Peace and Joy,
Now, by the Gods, the Trojan Shepherd chose
With Judgment, when for Beaty he refus'd,
The rugged Cares of Courage, and of Kingdoms.
Let th'Ambitious take the busie World,
Thou shalt to me be Victory and Crowns.
Ambition will but give the half his Heart;
I'll not with-hold ev'n the minutest part.

Por.
Oh! how my Soul disdains thee!
Thou, that hast held the Chariot of Romes Glory,
With such a feeble Rein, that it is faln,
With vast Rapidity, from its full Noon,
Down to the doubtful twylight of its Set.
How canst thou think to move a Roman Mind,
Full of the injur'd Genius of her Country,
That groans beneath thy mean Tyrannick sway?

Emp.
Well! I will draw the inspiration, hence;
And from thy Lips suck that old Roman Virtue,
That for thy sake shall make pale War look lovely.

[Goes to her, Embraces her; She struggles from him.
Por.
Stand off! imperial Villain! touch me not!
Thy sooty Soul pollutes me from thy Mouth;
Cou'd I tell how, I'd stop thy guilty Breath.

Emp.
How lovely is thy Rage!
Enter Empress.
What brings her hither to disturb my Bliss?
My Soul was flutt'ring with the very Kiss.

(aside.
Por.
Thanks to the Gods for this deliverance.

Empress.
Where is this Trayteress? Where those baneful Charms
That hold my Emperor from my longing Arms?
Ha! he is here! here at this Midnight hour,
[Sees him.
All raging Love, and she within his Pow'r!
Her Virtue must too weak a Guard have been,
Against the force of such alluring Sin.

Emp.
Wrong not, by your fond Jealousie betrayd,
Th'immortal Virtue of this heav'nly Maid;
In Contradiction by the Gods, design'd,
To our false Maxims against Woman kind;
For in a Court, in spight of Force, or Pray'r,
She's Constant, Chast, a Woman, Young and Fair.

Empress.
Why will you then pursue a fruitless pain?
Fly what you have, for what you can't obtain?
Return my Wanderer; O! return again!
I Sigh, I Pant, I perish by delay;
(My sleeping Cares, my Pangs, and Fears all Day)
Come to my Breast, thou'st been too long away.
Embraces him.
When scarce awake, about my Arms I cast,
With eager hopes, to press my Emperor fast;
But he not there, I draw 'em back gain;
Then reach all round, but all alass! in vain;
For he's fled from me, who should ease my Pain.
My Fears awake me, and I gaze around,
But there no Print of my false Love is found;
Frighted I rise, to seek where he is fled;
Then throw my self upon my Widow'd Bed.

Por.
O! Emperor! can't such a tender Love
Your stubborn Heart with gentle Pity move?

Emp.
Her nauseous fondness but provokes my scorn.

Por.
O barbarous Wretch, sure of no Woman born!
No soft Compassion harbours in thy Mind,
But all thy Deeds confess thy Savage kind.
Foolish as false, slight the best Joys of Life,
In the Embraces of a constant Wife.

Emp.
A Wifes Embraces are all pall'd and dull—
Besides, your Image fills m' extended Soul.
From your fierce Love no Refuge I can find;
Like Guilt, inexpiable, it hants my Mind;
Converts me all into its self like Fire,
In which, like Fuel spent, I must at last expire.

Empress.
O! try by Absence, to dissolve these Charms!
Fly from her Witchcraft to my Circling Arms.

Emp.
Too weak that Circle to secure my Heart;
Sh' has spread the Poyson through each vital part.
Absence alas! attempts my Cure in vain,
Absence it self augments the charming Pain,
The more I'm from her, still I love the more,
Possession only can my Peace restore.
But there Fate stands, and with an awful Brow,
Checks each fond Wish, and every eager Vow:
Drives me all naked from Hopes warmer Air,
To the severest Winter of Despair.

Por.
Behold more kind, and nobler Beautys there.

[Pointing to the Empress.
Emp.
You turn my Eyes from you, to her in vain,
'Spight of Despair, and all its gastly train;
I'll love you still, and fond the raging Pain.
Nor to pale Night will I resign my Breath,
But shun the enticing blandishments of Death;
Death to your Pow'r a speedy end wou'd give,
But in the Tortures you ordain I'll live.

Empress.
Believe him not, for he is all Deceit,
Taught by my Ills, avoid the treacherous Bait.
For, ah! by fond Credulity betray'd,
I thought all true the lov'd Dissembler said:
Beliv'd his Words, addrest with all the Art.
Of strong Perswasion, to subdue my Heart.
Believ'd his Oaths, believ'd each tender Vow:
Believ'd his melting Tears, which artfully did flow!
The fatal shelf of Faith in him, oh! shun,
I but believ'd him, and I was undone!

Portia.
Fear not fair Empress any wrong from me,
How little he can move my Heart, you see.
His Words, like empty sounds, pass by my heedless Ears,
His Love gives me no Pleasure, and his Threats no Fears.

Empress.
See, she rejects you! whether wou'd you fly?
It is not Portia doats on you, but I.
Oh let me reap the Fruit of her kind Scorn!

Emperor.
Away, this fondness is not to be born.
Nor do you much insult ingrateful Fair,
On thee I will revenge these Pangs of my Despair.
I will not long, thus burn with hopeless Fires,
Nor groan beneath the weight of impotent Desires.

Por.
Thy threats don't touch me; more than thy vain Love.

Empress.
Hear me, O hear ye conscious Pow'rs above,
How oft he swore the Tyler's Streams shou'd go,
Back sooner to the Source from whence they flow:
That Sun and Moon shou'd sooner loose their Light,
And bury Mankind in Eternal Night.
Than he be false. Then Tyber quickly turn,
And with inverted Volumes hast t'your Native Urn:
Rise Darkness, rise, and hide us all, for he's forsworn:
The dear Protester now is falser grown,
Than Wind, or Ocean, or the changeful Moon.

[Pressing him in her Arms.
Emperor.
I cannot, will not love, nay, see you more.

Empress.
O! ye just Gods, who heard him when he swore!
By Juno, Venus, Vesta, and by Jove;
To me, and me alone Eternal Love.
Why ye tame Gods, why don't ye strike him dead,
Why don't your Bolts pierce his devoted Head?
[Pauses.
—Ah no! good Gods spare, spare his precious Life,
[Kneeling.
Transfix the Heart of his abandon'd Wife.

Emperor.
I'll hear no more—
For such Contagion her soft Words impart,
I feel a Forraign Pity storm my Heart.

[aside.
Empress.
O! you must hear me; for Pity's sake, but hear,
To my Complaints you may afford your Ear,
Though your dear Heart be gone—

Emp.
I must away,
I shall betray my weakness if I stay.

[He struggles to get from her.
Empress.
Oh! stay and tell me, tell me, prithee do,
Why thou deserts thy wretched Empress so?
What Crimes your Anger, and Aversion move,
But a too mighty tenderness, and Love?

Emperor.
Stand off—,—and loose me, or—

[Clapping his Hand on his Dagger.
Empress.
Draw not thy Dagger, thy poor Wife to kill,
Thy Cruelty will do't—indeed it will.

[Weeps.
Emperor.
There's a Confusion fixes me in Ill,
Methinks it is unworthy me to yield.
No, I will fly, since I can't keep the Field.

[Breaks from her and Exit.
Empress.
Oh! he is gon, the cruel false one's gon!

Por.
Persue him, Madam, and the day's your own.
Your Goodness bore his stubborn Vices down,
And for just Pity made a noble way,
You suffer them to rally, if you stay.

Emp.
O! I am weary of this fruitless Pain!
Gods! must I wast my Charms, and Youth in vain,
No I will arm me with severe Disdain.
A generous Pride my surest Guard will prove,
Against the Fury of my hopeless Love.
[Pauses.
Ah! no—It will not be—my Heart rebels,
And all the Efforts of Pride my raging Love repels.
Well, I will after him—pursue him still,
And if he will not love me, sure he'll kill!
Oh! that he wou'd ev'n so but give me Rest,
I'd clasp the dear Destroyer to my dying Breast.

[Exit.
Por.
Unhappy Princess, may'st thou find Success,
For mine is twisted in thy Happiness;
If thy strong Virtue but Triumphant proves,
We both shall reap the Harvest of our Loves.

[Exit.