University of Virginia Library

SCENE. I.

Portia's Apartment in the Pallace.
Enter Portia at one Door, and Martian in Cleanders Habit at the other.
Por.
Well, good Cleander, hast thou seen my Lord?
And will he haste, to rescue his lost Portia?

Mar.
With all the speed of longing eager Love:

[Runs to her and embraces her.
Port.
Unhand me Slave—What means this Insolence?

[She starts from him.
Mar.
What does not then my charming Portia know me?
And can a thin disguise conceal her Martian?
(He pulls off his Beard.
Methinks her Heart should beat at my Approach,;
And by its Sympathetick Throbs reveal me.

(She looks earnestly at him while he speaks; and after the first word runs into his Arms.
Por.
Martian!—ha! My Lord! my Love! my Life!

Mar.
Portia my Soul! my Bliss! my Heav'n!
(They Embrace.
Oh! do I hold thee once more in my Arms!
The full Amends of all my Suff'rings past!

Port.
Where hast been poor Wand'rer? Where hast been?
What hast thou done? How have the Gods dealt with thee
Since thou wert ravish'd from me at the Altar?
Where is the Army? Will they own thy Cause?
Are they come with thee? Am I free from Bonds?
Answer me—tell me all; Oh! tell me quickly!
For I have yet a thousand things to ask;
And horrid strange, prodigious things to tell thee.

Mar.
Speak on—I'll answer thee with Kisses; press thee
Close to my Heart, while on thy panting Bosome
I breath the dear Distractions of my Fondness!
Loose all my Griefs; all thoughts of pressing Fortune
In this Abyss of Joy, of beamy Heav'n!
Eternal Raptures of Almighty Love
Dance round my Heart, and make me grow Immortal.

Por.
Oh! I am faint with Joy; Convulsive Heavings
Extend my Bosome, and my throbing Heart
Flutters about, as if 'twou'd beat its last!

Mar.
Gods! good Gods! give me, Oh! give me Portia!
Give me but her, and cast your Crowns and Glory,
Victory and Fame to the poor busie Slaves,
That wou'd be great, with her I wou'd sit down,
In peaceful and unenvy'd Poverty,
Above the anxious Greatness of Renown.

Por.
O! all ye Heav'nly Powers! that fixt this World,
With the Cement of Universal Love,
Why is such tender Passion not your Care?
Such Virtue, and such Truth by all forsaken?
Can you view Mortal Joys with envyous Eyes?
Or grudge the scanty Riv'lets of our Pleasures,
Amidst such Torrents of surrounding Wo!
Ah! no—'tis I; 'tis my contagious Fate,
'Tis cursed I have ruin'd my poor Martian!
O! that I rather never had been born!
Or scalded o're with frightful Leprosies,
Wrinkl'd with Age, and loath'd Deformities.

Mar.
Accuse not Heav'n, nor curse thy Beauteous Form!
My Crimes alone have made me thus unhappy.

Por.
And can'st thou love me still? after the Sufferings,
That I have cost thee?—

Mar.
Sure thou dost not doubt it.—
Love thee still?—Yes, by my dearest Hopes!
Thy very Name yields Joy; thy Talk darts Raptures,
An oh! thy self—oh! 'tis not to be spoke!
'Tis mighty extasie beyond unfolding.
Heav'n is most just, withholds thee from my Arms,
Because it sees I've not deserv'd thee yet.

Por.
Alas, thy Love restores my tainted Blood,
Or sees not the black Crimes it has admitted!

Mar.
What canst thou mean? thy frightful Words, and Gesture,
Cast a chill shivering Horror o're my Soul.

Por.
Perhaps thou know'st it not—the guilty Shame
Confounds me. I cannot utter it—

Mar.
If it be ought that does concern my Love,
That threatens that, delay not to inform me,
If not, all other Ills are Forraign things,
And give no Pain.

Por.
Must I then tell my Shame?

Mar.
Ha! thy Shame! what wou'd these dreadful Words,
Tainted Blood, black Crimes and guilty Shame!
Nay, thy Shame too, ha!—Gods, I shall grow wild
With gastly doubts, with strange, with shocking Fears!
Art thou infected with thy Sexes Frailties?
False to thy Vows?—thy numerous Vows and Oaths?
Impossible! Answer me,—Can this be?
This is too much, too much, relentless Pow'rs
Makes me fall out with Providence, and think
That We're abus'd with Maxims of your Goodness!
This is not Just—I cannot, will not bear it,—

Por.
O! have but Patience.

Mar.
I've all th'extent of patient Sufferance.
Can bear th'Insults of the tumultuous People,
The Savage Fury of a Tyrant's Will;
Not all the threatning Hurricane of Heav'n,
Nor the right Hand of dreadful thundering Jove,
Nor shou'd the Frame of Nature burst asunder,
And crush us all to Atoms, wou'd it move me.
But this is worse than Poverty, Disgrace,
Exile, Diseases, Rods, Axes, or Distruction.
O end me, end me, quickly Gods, least I
Blaspheme, and doubt your Beings. Ah!
Blast me with Lightning; throw me down,

Por:
But ah! my Brother! your loving Friend Aurelian!

Mar.
What of him?

Por.
Ah! he is false! could'st thou think it.
Urg'd me to falsehood too, indeed he did:
Courted the Tyrant with most Servile Flattery,
To build his Fortune upon Martian's Ruins.
Calm this loud Tempest, thy Mistake has rais'd,
Or see me perish in thy Sight this moment!

Mar.
O! thou hast Pow'r to sooth unruly Frenzy,
Yes, I will hear you, though you Damn me farther.

Por.
Oh! that I love thee Martian, with all the Force
Of Purity and Truth, be Witness Heav'n!
And ev'ry awful Pow'r bend down and hear,
While in the fond Abundance of my Heart,
I swear, I love thee more than Health, or Life,
Than Liberty, or wish'd for Peace of Mind
Next to my Countrys good, and my own Honour!

Mar.
O charming Words! O extasie of Sound!
How it expands my Soul with mighty Joy!
So when the thundring Drum, and Trumpets Clangor,
The Horses Neighing, and the Soldier's Shouts,
Rouse me to Battle with a Godlike Rage,
The noble Fire extends my Heart, and Bounds,
Through all my Veins, and I am Ardor all,
Tumultuous Transport, and Immortal Fury.
[Pauses.
I have offended Portia by my Doubts,
But Oh! my Love, I swear thou art reveng'd,
Ixions's Wheel, and old Prometheus Vulture,
And all the various Tortures of the Damn'd,
Are sure much less than mine was. But my Fair,
Since thou art true, no matter who is false.
What say'st thou now? am not I infected?
Spotted all o're; a part of me has wrong'd thee.

Mar.
No, thou art white, and pure as Innocence!
He is no part of thee; nor of thy Kin,
Born of some Slave, and palm'd upon thy Parents,
The filthy product of some Courtier's Lust,
And in Hypocrisie has outdone his Sire.
I knew his Treachery, and had forgot it
Name him no more, the horrid Thought distracts me,
And quite inverts the Orders of my Soul.
For Oh! he'd wound himself about my Heart,
With all the noble Bonds of sacred Friendship,
That it has cost me strange stupendious Pangs,
To rend him from it—but he's gone, and
May all the Curses he invok'd light on him.

Por.
Ha! I hear a noise! fly my gentle Love,
[A Noise at a distance
Flye far from Rome; Oh! fly this Den of Thieves!
I charge you by your Love, make hast away;
I had thus long in Joy forgot thy Danger:
You are not safe, this is the Seat of Ruffians,
Informers, Sycophants. Here the Brother
Trusts not the Brother, nor the Son the Father.
Or if they do, they're certainly deceiv'd.
All Tyes of Trust and Confidence are ceas'd.

Mar.
I must not leave thee then in such Contagion,
But thou must with me—

Por.
More willingly, than
With a Guardian God: but how is't possible?

Mar.
All's possible
To love like thine, and mine,—I'll force my way
Thro' the thin Guard.

Por.
That will but arm the Court against thy Life.

Mar.
What is the Court? the mean enervate Court?
There's not the Soul of one brave Man among 'em,
They love themselves too well, to seek out Danger;
I am thy Soldier, and this Arm shall make 'em
Keep awful distance, while I bear thee through 'em.

Por.
Thy Love and Courage will not see the Hazard,
But I alas!—yet I will with my Love,
To dye with thee is next to living with thee:
—But oh! my Fears,
I hear the Noise again, Doors op'ning, the steps
Of some in hast, ah! clap on thy Disguise,
Or I shall dye with dreadful Apprehension!

(He claps it on.
Mar.
Fear not my Love, thou must be Heaven's chief care,
And for thy Virtue they will spare thy Martian.

Por.
See 'tis the Empress!

Enter Empress.
Emp.
Who have you here?
For I've important Business with you Portia,
That near concerns your Happiness and mine.

Por.
This, Madam, is an honest faithful Slave,
Whom I am sending to my exil'd Lord.

Emp.
Will you not go your self then?

Por.
Did I know how,
Swift as the Wind, with all the speed of Fear.

Emp.
That I design'd to tell you, when I found
My Emperor with you; but then you know,
My Love, Desire, and Hope, made me pursue him,
But since I cou'd not find him; I'm return'd,
To beg thee, if thou h'st Pity, Love, or Virtue,
As much thou seem'st to have, to fly him strait.
I cannot rest while you are here thus near him.
For ah! his Wit, his soft deluding Tongue
Will melt thee else to an abhor'd Complyance.
Oh! he is perfect in betraying Wiles;
Knows every subtle passage to the Heart,
And all the wondrous force of pointed Looks,
Can thaw the Icy Bosome of a Vestal,
Though for the Sin she's sure to suffer Death.
Oh! what cannot his cunning Arts perform,
Perswade the Miser from his hoarded Gold;
Active Ambition into languid Ease;
And ev'n the Priesthood into humble Honesty.
Fly therefore fly, the dear Destruction fly,
For if you stay, your Virtue surely dyes.

Por.
Not that I doubt my Virtue, I wou'd fly,
But my Soul, still languishes to Martian,
With most impetuous Ardor!—Oh! shew me
But how I shall get to him.

Emp.
'Tis thus:
I have procur'd a pious Vestal Virgin,
Who will convey thee safe to Vesta's Temple,
And thence find Means to get you out of Rome;
She waits us now in a lone Gallery?
To which I will by secret Doors conduct you,
That come not near your Guards—

Por.
You hear, Cleander, where you soon may find me,
Go to my Lord, and let him know the Joy.
'Twill ease his throbbing Heart, and cure his Griefs.
He'll bless the Gods, that when no help was hop'd,
Sent kind Relief to Vertue in Distress.

Mar.
Madam, I will, and may the Pow'rs above,
Crown all the Pious Empresses Desires!

(Exit.
Emp.
Come gentle Portia, use the present Hour,
The next, perhaps, may not be in our Pow'r.

(Exeunt Ambo.