 | The Roman Brides Revenge |  |
SCENE III.
Changes to the Street.Enter Martian and Cleander.
Mart.
Cleander , prithee leave me with the rest.
Surpriz'd, turn'd out to the inclement World,
Naked of Help, I have no means to keep thee.
Banish'd, proscrib'd, a Price set on my Head,
My only Bosome Friend, that shou'd have lent
His Shoulder to support this sinking Atlas,
Flyes from me with the common nasty Herd
Of Knaves, Sycophants, Buffoons, and Flaterers.
And with my Laurels decks his Faithless Brow.
All shun me like Infection; therefore leave me.
Clean.
Oh! Sir, dismiss this Avarice of Woe,
And let your Servant share your wretched Fortune!
As he has done your Good! I'm no Summer Fly.
12
My Industry has got some little Treasure
Under you, that may help you in your Exile.
Mar.
Why shoud'st thou love me so, who by me
Alone hast lost thy Freedom.
Clean.
Dear Sir,
I lost my Freedom in my Country's Cause,
And in amends Fate gave the best of Masters;
And may I on a Dunghill, like a Dog,
Rot, rot piece meal, if ever I forsake you.
Is it so hard, to let your poor Slave starve with you.
Mar.
Yes, for 'twou'd be unjust, and shock my Nature.
O false Aurelian! O degenerate Rome!
Learn Faith, and Virtue from this noble Slave!
Honest Cleander, I have no business for thee,
I'm at the end of Life's uneasie Journey,
And can reach Death's near Inn without thy help.
Cle.
O Sir! far be that Thought! your Country calls
Implores your Help, to free it from Oppression.
Fly to the Army, they will own your Cause,
And save lost Rome from black devou'ring Knaves.
Mar.
'Twill be in vain, for Knaves will still be uppermost;
They float aloft, like Chaff upon the Water,
Which though by moving you a while disperse,
Soon as the ruffl'd Element is settl'd,
They gather all a top again.
Clean
Think of your Portia then,
When you are gone, where will be her Rescue?
Mar.
Ay, there Cleander thou hast touch'd the Note,
That breaks the drowsie Charm of lazy Death,
And makes my Soul exert its Native Fire.
What leave her, to the Tyrant's Will and Pow'r?
For him to brood o're all her chaster Sweets!
Gods! good Gods! how that wild Thought distracts me!
No, I will live, for her thus curs'd will live!
And rouse the sleeping Soldier in my Bosome.
To win the Army to revenge her Wrongs,
Crush the black Tyrant, and deliver Rome.
Force may be swifter than their distant Rescue.
Therefore I will secure my Portia first.
And she in safety, I can't perish all.
It shall be so—Cleander, I'll employ thee.
Clean.
Blessings on you Sir, let me embrace your Knees,
[Kneeles and embraces 'em.
For this kind Word; you shall see your Slave,
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Swift as Revenge or Jealousie to serve you.
Mar.
You say the Guard takes you for Portia's Slave?
Clean.
I have been with her often since the Evening,
Went with her in the crowd too from the Temple.
Trusting my Faith, she sent me oft to find you,
And beg you hasten to deliver her.
Mar.
She shall be obey'd, for I'le now to her.
Clean.
Sir.
Mar.
With her consult of means for her escape,
Clean.
The Army, Sir, is the only means she hopes.
Mar.
Th'Army's uncertain, for they are Romans too.
Romans, and once my Friends, therefore must be false.
Clo.
This way you perish, known to all the Court.
Mar.
No, I will take thy Habit, and so pass.
Cle.
Consider Sir,
Mar.
No more I am resolv'd, thou'lt find me in the Porch of Vesta.
Clean.
I must obey, may all the Gods protect you
Thunders.
Mar.
A sudden clap of Thunder without Clouds,
A waving Sword i'th'Air,—'tis wondrous strange.
[pauses.
Avaunt be gone ye dreadful boding Omens!
For I will on, since Love will have it so.
If I have err'd ye ruling Powers above,
'Tis by the force of a resistless Love;
Spare her, for I alone am Criminal,
And on my head let all your vengeance fall.
Give me relentless Gods this one relief;
With this Encrease enrich my Barren Grief;
Then shall I have the Cordial Joy to see,
My Portia happy by my Misery,
In that vast pleasure loose my wretched state,
And smile at the vain Impotence of Fate.
[Exit.
| The Roman Brides Revenge | |