University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

The Street near the Pallace.
Enter Martian alone.
Mar.
'Twas not well done, to fly from my Preservers;
What tho' my Love; and good Cleander's Care;
Dragg'd me away from out the lucky Fight
That set me free, I should have lost occasion,
And dy'd with such brave Friends;
Well, I will back,
At least to know 'em; if I can't assist them.

Enter Cleander.
[Is going.]
Clean.
O which way, Sir—O whither are you going?

Mar.
No more—I will not thus desert my Friends;
Such noble Friends, that snatcht me from Destruction
In Rome, almost within the Tyrants hearing.

Clean.
Had I, Sir, known what since I have beheld,
I had not forc'd you from the doubtful Combate,
To pain your Soul with Tortures worse than Death.

Mar.
What dost thou mean? thy Words, and frightful Looks
Import some strange Event; is Portia dead?
Has she outgon me in the Race of Love?
O wretched Martian, mean inglorious Martian;
To fly from Death, while Portia sought it out!

Clean.
O Sir, she lives! is too well pleased with Life.

Mar.
Ha!

Clean.
This Minute, Sir, I saw her pass the Court;
Joy in her Face, and Pleasure in her Eyes,
To her black Nuptials with the Emperor.

Mar.
What, Portia!

Clean.
Portia.

Mar.
My Portia?

Clean.
Your Portia, Sir.

Mar.
The softest Dear protesting vowing Maid,
That ever sooth'd a Doating Lover's Passion;
Can she be false?

Clean.
Ev'n she is false;
She h's caught the curst Cantagion from her Brother;
And in the very Moment of your Death,
With Smiles and fond Caresses, weds your Butcher.

Mar.
Impossible and false!

Clean.
I'd not abuse her,
Nor you; I saw it; with these Eyes I saw it.

Mar.
Thy Eyes deceiv'd thee then; for thou saw'st her
Dragg'd to the impious Bridals, all in Tears;
In struggling Agonies, in the Pangs of Death:
If she would live, ev'n to endure so much;
If thou saw'st Portia, 'twas thus that thou did'st see her:
Do I not know her strong Immortal Virtue?
Did she not swear that she would not outlive me?
And yet within an Hour wed my Murderer?
No more, lest thou provoke my lasting Hate.

Clean.
I've done, Sir.

Mar.
But art thou sure thou saw'st her?

Clean.
I dare not, Sir, repeat it; for I fear,
More than my Death you hate.

Mar.
Tell me, I say,
Art sure that it was her that thou didst see?

Clean.
The Hall's now full of most amaz'd Beholders,
And in the Throng, disguis'd, you may see all;
If I have urg'd a falshood, ever hate me.

Mar.
If this be so—O Friendship, Love, farewel!
If this be so—where is the Wretch like me?
If this be so—but I'll not wrong her Virtue,
Nor Credit ought, but my own Eyes against her.

[Exeunt

SCENE II.

A Magnificent Hall; the Emperor and Portia in their Bridal Habits.
Enter Martian and Cleander, disguised.
Emp.
Let every Trumpet, Flute, and Instrument
Of Music sound aloud; beat the big Drum,
And make the Eccho of my Joys rebound
Up to the Vaulted Roof of Heav'n it self;
That all the Gods may Emulate my Pleasures;
While Portia drinks the Bridal Beveridge.

[Portia drinks, having first put something in the Bowl.]
Emp.
What did my Love mix in our Bridal Bowl?

Por.
A Philtre, Sir, to fix your roving Heart:
Whose Magic Force will make you always mine.

Emp.
Ha! give it me; for greedily I'll drink
The Noble Charm, by which I grow Immortal:
For to love always thus, is more than Godhead.

[Drinks it all off.
Mar.
Oh Triumphing Falshood! O Excess of Woman!

Enter Empress, with her Hair dishevell'd, and her Bosom all bloody.
Empr.
Where is the Emperor? where is my false Prince?
I cannot live, nor die away from him.
Oh! let me clasp thee in my fainting Arms:
Be not uneasie at my dying Fondness;
Indulge it now, indulge it, prithee do;
'Tis the last time it ever will offend thee.

Emp.
Ha! Valeria!
What barbarous Hand has made this bloody Havock?

Empr.
This, this, my Emperor, tho' it was too weak
To hold you there, cou'd execute your Hate:
Yet when I'm dead, as soon I find I shall be,
Prithee remember how Valeria lov'd thee;
Bore all thy Slights, thy Scorn, and thy hard Usage,
Sought no Revenge but on her injur'd self:
True, I complain'd of thy Ingrateful Falshood;
But my Complaints arose from furious Love;
The more I did complain, I lov'd thee more:
Pray'd to the Gods to guard the dear Destroyer,
And rather dy'd than you shou'd be uneasie.

Emp.
'Tis sad, O Portia; this is wond'rous sad!

Empr.
Think then, oh! think; does not such tender Love
Merit a kind place in your Remembrance?
Ah! no—if it be kind, it must torment thee:
Forget me rather; O let be forgot.
Rather than give my Love one anxious Pang.

Emp.
Ah my Valeria!

Empr.
Ha! your Valeria? did you not call me yours?

Emp.
I did, thou matchless Tenderness and Love.

Empr.
And do you pitty me?

Emp.
By Heav'n I do.

Empr.
It is enough, and now I die most happy:
O the fierce Joy so struggles in my Breast,
That all the Strings of Life now burst asunder.
O! I have lost you in surrounding Darkness!
O do not hate my Memory! this Kiss,
And this last dear Embrace; and now I'm—nothing.

[dies
Empr.
She's gon,—the tender Mourner is no more;
And like the Swans, her dying Notes so sweet,
They charm my Soul, and fix me here for ever.

Por.
Ah! poor unhappy Princess, art thou dead?

Mar.
Throwing off his Robes, and coming up to her.
Yes, she is dead, false Portia, and thou living!
Slain, by thy Guilt she's dead!—
Such Victims shou'd be offer'd at such Rites.

Por.
[starting]
Ha! Martian!

Mar.
Virtue and Truth, fond Tenderness and Love,
Shou'd fall at Union of so foul a Pair.
Murder, Perjury, Oppression, Falshood,
Hypocrisie, Ingratitude, and all;
All that can make ye both Supremely wicked,
Meet in ye. But your Impious Joys are short;
For see this Sword shall end 'em in this Place.

[Lays his Hand on his Sword.
[Portia runs to Martian, and stops him.]
Por.
Hold, Martian, hold, touch not the Emperor.
He's my Sacrifice.

Mar.
Gods, she loves him too!
This whets my Rage, adds Fire to my Revenge!

[The Emperor starts from the Empress.
Emp.
Ha! bold Assassins, in my very Pallace?
How came this Traytor to evade my Sentence!

Mar.
That I don't know The Gods it seems decreed it,
To torture me afresh with sight of thee,
And that false Maid.

Por.
I will be justify'd.

Mar.
'Tis impossible—not a vile Prostitute,
That for a Drachma sells her common Favours
To the mean, greasie Refuse of the Vulgar,
Cou'd have done worse. O Portia! Portia!

Por.
O Martian, Martian! hear your Portia speak.

Mar.
Stand off, and touch me not, Polluted Fair.

Por.
You shall not dash me from you till you hear me.

Emp.
Ha! Portia! is this well? what means my Love?

Por.
Begon, no more, the anxious Scene is over.

Enter a Messenger in haste.
Mess.
O fly, Sir, quickly, if you yet have Time
To save your self from imminent Destruction.
Aurelian leads on the Pretorian Bands:
Who, with united Fury seek you out,
Vowing Revenge for Martian's Injuries;
I only have escap'd to give you Notice.

Emp.
No more,—
Nor with thy Fears disturb my last Resolves:
Yes, I will fall as Galienus shou'd—
[Draws.
And do one piece of Justice e'r I die,
[Makes at Aurelian, who retiring, draws; the Soldiers come behind, and seize the Emperor.
Upon that bold aspiring Traytor.

Enter Aurelian, and Soldiers, spoaks ent'ring.
Aurel.
Here, cease the Vulgar Slaughter; sieze the Tyrant:
My Fellow-soldiers, this is he, that Ground ye
With Poverty, for all your Toils, and Battles,
Fought in his vile Cause, ravish'd your Mothers,
Daughters, Sisters, butcher'd your Fathers.
And has unpeopled Rome, and drove your General,
Your brave Martian, from the Sacred Altar.
Seize too his Bride; who, tho' my Sister, falls
A Victim to my injur'd Friend and Honour.

Por.
My Brother! this noble Fury that shou'd
Make thee dreadful, to me is fresh Endearment.

Mar.
What do I hear! what strange new wonder's this?

Emp.
Aurelian! this from thee, ungrateful Man;
Have I for this advanced thee to these Honours?

Aur.
Thy Native Thirst of Guilt advanc me to 'em;
To bribe my Virtue, to betray my Friend,
Pervert my Sister, and to taint my Blood;
With Villanies a Soldier's Heart disdains.
To fix you safe, in doing daily Wrongs,
I turn'd thy cunning Arts against thy self,
To gain a Pow'r to do my Country Right;
Revenge m' assaulted Honour, and my Friend.

Por.
O the malignant Influence of my Stars!
Martian alive, and my lost Brother true,
And yet no Hopes of Happiness for me!

Mar.
Art thou Aurelian, that hast done all this,
Or has some God assum'd thy awful Form?

Aur.
My noble Friend, O fly to my Embrace:
My Heart has panted like a Virgin's for thee,
E're since I saw thee, lest my swift Relief
Shou'd be out-run by Fate, as it was ne're,
When my first Troops just snatch'd thee from Destruction.

Mar.
When will the measure of my Woes be full?
If thou'rt Aurelian, I am more unhappy.

Aur.
What do I hear? what was that fatal Sound?
O end me Gods; destroy this wretched Being,
Since I have liv'd to make my Friend unhappy.

Mar.
It is thy Goodness, and thy Virtues wound me;
These call me Base, Ingrateful and Injurious;
For I have wrong'd thee—
Doubted thy Faith, believ'd thee false; nay, curs'd thee.
O turn those Curses on this guilty Head,
Good Gods, and show'r your Blessings all on him.

Aur.
No more, my Friend, I gave but too much Cause,
But rather chose to cut thee to the quick,
Than not effect the cure of thy sick Fortune.

Mar.
And canst thou then forgive thy guilty Friend?

Aur.
O let me hold thee here, and tell thee so.

[they embrace.
Mar.
O thou bright Beam of Comfort to my Soul;
That like the Morning Star dost promise Day
To the black Stormy Night of Martian's Sorrows.
Couldst thou but call a few past Minutes back,
I might be happy still. But oh! my Friend,
Behold that threatning Meteor that stands there;
She blasts my Hopes, forbids all Thoughts of Joy.

Emp.
[Aside ...]
Ha! what strange shooting Fires have seiz'd my Blood!
I fear I've drank some deadly Poison, that breaks
My Thoughts, and disappoints my op'ning Hopes.
Of Empire, and of Portia, and of Revenge. [... Aside]


Mar.
Canst thou believe it, Friend, the Virtuous Portia;
Thy Sister there is marry'd to the Tyrant.
I saw the horrid Mystery perform'd,
While the Earth shook, and Nature stood agast;
The yelling Furies held the Nuptial Torches,
And Hell was pleased with the Infernal Rites.

Por.
If e'er unhappy Portia had your Heart;
If all your Vows and Oaths are not forgot;
O! by those tender Pledges I conjure you;
Hear me while I have Life to tell my Story.

Mar.
Yes, I will hear thee, thus conjur'd, must hear thee;
For, how I lov'd, nay, I love thee still:
Witness these Pangs and Agonies I feel,
To find thee false.

Por.
And O unequal Pow'rs,
That shed such baneful Influence on our Passion;
Bear witness to my Truth, to my vast Love!
Witness how much I doat on Martian still;
Spight of his hard Suspitions of my Virtue:
Witness how I have ever held him here,
Without a Rival.

Mar.
Ha! can this be so?

Por.
Oh! hear the fatal Story of my Love;
And see if ever Woman lov'd like me;
If ever Woman has been wrong'd like me;
If ever Woman was reveng'd like me.

Mar.
Speak on—uncommon Love, Wrongs and Revenge,
There's mighty Meaning in these fatal Sounds.

Por.
Had I but known, or cou'd have hop'd thy Life,
We had bin happy, thinking you no more,
Resolv'd on Death, a brave Revenge inspir'd me
To sink the Tyrant in his height of Triumph,
And punish all his Wrongs to thee and Rome,
And in the Bridal Bowl I drank a Poison,
In which, with thirsty Eagerness, he pledg'd me.

Emp.
Was that the Philtre then, ingrateful Fair;
And yet it is so while, it burns my Bowels?
For from thy Virtue, tho' I draw my Death;
That very Deed does more encrease my Love.

Por.
Oh! speak not to me; I hate the jarring Sound;
Nothing but Love and Martian now can please me—
But oh! I faint; it tears each Vital Part,
Bursts all my Nerves into a thousand pieces,
And now assaults the last Retreats of Life.
O give me one kind word before I die.

Mar.
Ten Thousand Thousand, for I'm Kindness all:
What fatal Story is it thou hast told us,
That joins th'Extreams of Joy, and wild Despair?
O my Friends! Aureiian and Cleander,
Why draw you not this Sword to pierce this Heart,
That has profan'd the best of all her Sex:
Blasphem'd this Goddess, doubted Truth her self.—

Por.
O my dear Martian, rack not thy poor Mind;
It was the wayward working of our Fate;
Appearance boil'd thy furious Love to Jealousie;
But I forgive thee.

Mar.
How canst thou forgive me?

Por.
Yes, Indeed I do,
And love thee, Martian, with so strange an Ardor,
That Words cannot express it.

Mar.
Let me crawl
Thus on the Earth to meet thy gen'rous Pardon;
But how shall I approach thee, O my Love?
Thou art all fair, all white, without one Spot;
I All Contagion, and dark guilty Foulness.

Por.
O! my Love, where art thou?—

[Faints.
Mar.
Ha! see the pale Destroyer invades her;
Makes dismal Havock in this Field of Beauty,
And wasts the rosie Honours of her Face.
O! Ruin! Despair! O Horror, Hell and Furies!

Aur.
Ah! my dear Sister, Innocent and Dead!

Mar.
Ay, dead my Friend, but see she breaths again!

Por.
O tell me ye bright Beings, where's my Love,
For ye must know the Hero of Mankind:
His Eyes dart Fire, and he perfumes Breaths;
Pleasing as dawn of Day, and awful as a God.

Mar.
O charming Madness, when? she raves on Love.

Por.
Oh! have I found my Truant out; come to my Arms;
We will be lost in Joys; the Tyrant's dead,
Plung'd in black Stix, and burning Flegeton:
See how the Furies toss him with their Prongs!

Emp.
Ha! Furies and Styx, and burning Flegeton;
They're here indeed, and rend my tortur'd Body;
But any Pains for thee, thou charming Tyrant.

Por.
Ha! art thou gone? mounted aloft? O stay!
The Gods will wait a while—we'll soar together.
Wilt thou not stay? I will pursue thee then;
Range all th'Ethereal Pallaces to find thee;
Accuse the Gods, upbraid unequal Jove,
'Till to appease me; and reward my Faith;
He gives my Martian to my Arms for ever.
O! I have got thee now; 'tis Heav'n—all beamy Joy!

[Dies.
Mar.
She's gon, Aurelian, her bright Soul is fled,
And left the Beauteous Mansion of her Body;
O let me fix and gaze on thee for ever!
Will not my burning Kisses warm those Lips?
[Fixes himself, and gazes on her, sometimes kissing her.
Nor thine convey their deadly Cold to mine?

Emp.
Yes, yes, she's gone, I see her starry Soul
Mount yonder; see, she makes a Galaxie!
Ha! the Gods are now my Rivals. I come,
My Eagle bears me from this Burning Pile,
To all my Kindred Deities above,
So have I caught thee, peevish Fair; away
Bear me to Pindus Shades; the Muses there
Shall sing aloud our Hymeneal Song,
To the soft Murmurs of fair Helicon;
While we upon the blest Castalian Shoar,
Consummate our unfinish'd Loves. See, see,
Calliope, Erato, Clio, Euterpe,
And all the rest of the Immortal Nine:
O hear the Mystic Numbers of their Verse,
Full of thy Beauties, and my raging Love.—

Mar.
Ah my poor Love, is this thy Bridal Bed?
Death the cold Lover, that must fill thy Arms?

Emp.
Be gone, fond Martian, tell not me of Business;
There, that's your Man; what's the dull World to me?
Let the mad Heroes scramble for Crowns and Scepters;
Give me more Beauty, young Balmy Boys and Girls.
Ha! still oppos'd in my soft Round of Pleasure?
Cut off that sawcy Virtue there that awes me!
Why am I Emperor, but to have my Will?
Ha! Treason! Assassins! Daggers! Poisons!

Aur.
See how his Soul, ev'n in its Agony,
Exerts it self, and burns with the same Fires.

Emp.
What, all the Earth and Firmament on Fire?
Nay, then I must burn too. Ha! ha! ha! ha!
See that decrepit Stoic there, he'd fain
Plunge in the Sea, to save his Beard from Fire:
Look how the Blind, the Lame, haggard Poverty,
Loathsome Diseases, all scamper from kind Death!
Why shou'd they shun Death that know no Pleasure!
See how that Priest too leaves his Gods in th'Lurch,
To save himself: Ha! ha! ha! how that old Ladies paint
Melts from her Face, and leaves her Furrows empty.
Oh dreadful Sight! what, Kings and Emperors too,
Burnt like common Chaff! Ah poor Valeria!
Cannot this Heart dry up thy Tears? No matter,
Steal down to Thetis, in her Corral Bed;
The Conflagration will not reach thee there. Ha!
True, 'tis a Funeral Pile, that's worthy me,
When all Mankind's the Fewel; Age and Youth,
Beauty and Deformity, Vice and Virtue;
How I rejoice that Pleasure dies with me.
Ha! Thunder! Whirlwinds of tempestuous Fire!
See how the flaming Billows rowl this way!
How they consume me! oh! 'tis soultry hot!
My Guards, Romans, clap Tyber in betwixt me:
Euphrates, Ganges, Nile, O 'twill not do.
See, they're drank up all with one thirsty Blast:
O for whole Oceans; see I burn, I burn; oh!
Ha! toss'd in a moment to these Lakes of Ice!
Gods, now I frieze! ah! cold! shivering cold—oh!

[dies
Aur,
He's dead; the Plague of Rome is now no more;
My Friend, what! gazing still upon my Sister:
See here how well she has reveng'd thy Wrongs.

Mar.
O do not rouze me from this lovely Horror!
Let me run wild in gazing on my Portia!
She has not lost the Charms of her dear Eyes:
For tho' their Summer warming Sun be set,
These trembling Beauties of her winter'd Night,
Dart shivering Pleasures thro' my shaking Heart.
O let me look upon their chilling Brightness,
Till unperceiv'd it frieze away my Life.

Aur.
You must not throw your useful Life away,
When Rome demands you for her Lord, and claims
Her Freedom from you.

Mar.
O do not shock my Soul with Thoughts of Empire:
Am I a Prospect for my Countrys Hopes?
No, no, I am the last, and worst of Men:
A wretched Outcast, the meer Draff of Nature!
Bankrupt of Virtue, what can Rome hope from me,
But greater Ills, than what I've done already?
For who destroy'd this Beauteous Maid? But I,
Who rack'd her with Doubts, ev'n in the Pangs of Death:
'Twas I, who has abus'd thy Virtue too;
But I! stand off, touch not such foul Infection!
Never forgive me, as thou'rt Friend to Justice,
Honour or Love,—but spurn me from thee:
Spurn me to my black Kindred, Shades below,
Thus, thus, and thus.—

[Stabs himself, and falls.
Aur.
What has your Frenzy done? but with that Blow,
Destroy'd us all?

Clean.
O my dear Master, see;
[taking up his Master's Dagger.
I follow you.

Mar.
I charge thee by thy Love,
Thy honest Love for thy unhappy Master;
I charge thee live, thy Liberty I give thee.

Clean.
O do not bind me to this Rack of Life;
What boots my Freedom, when all Joy is lost;

Mar.
I must bequeath thee as a valued Gift
To my brave Friend; therefore I charge thee live,
If thou wou'dst have thy Master die in Peace.

Aur.
Talk not of Gifts to me, ah cruel Martian;
Think not I love thee with so frail a Passion,
To quit my Friend in Death, more than Distress:
No Martian, I will copy out this Deed,
As I have strove to do your past.

Mar.
Oh! Live!
Your Friend, your Country, and th'immortal Gods,
Impose your Life for Agonizing Rome;
The publick Good shou'd rule your private Will.
For tho' I lov'd the best of Womankind;
The perfect Image of the Gods themselves:
Yet, since that private Passion lull'd the Crys,
And drown'd the Groans of m' expiring Country,
The Gods have snatch'd her from me by strange Means,
And took the Glory of deliv'ring Rome
From out my Guilty Hands, to give it thee.
Make Rome thy Mistress, then Honour, Renown,
Success and Joy will crown thy happy Life.

Aur.
There's something so Divine, and Awful in you;
It fixes me in Life against my Will;
Makes me the Victim of the Public Good.

Mar.
'Tis well resolv'd, my Friend,
But oh! I faint—reward Cleander's Faith,
I can no more, this one Embrace, my Friend,
[Embraces him.
And this for thee—and now farewel for ever!
[Embraces Cleander.
Ah, my dear Portia, lo thy Martian comes,
My Soul is restless from thee. Put our Ashes
Within one common Urn—oh! my Portia!

[Dies.
Cl.
He's dead, my Master's dead;
[Pauses
O hard Command;
Yet here I'll fix, and sure this Sight will end me,
Without a Dagger, O! break my stubborn Heart.

Aur.
His dying Words shall be obey'd—no more;
Methinks I see his hov'ring Soul look down,
And with an awful Nod forbid our Sorrows;
Full of that Heav'n he has within his View:
And pointing to his Breathless Body there,
Methinks I hear him thunder out aloud
To all the listning World this Godlike Maxim
Learn from my Fate, that Tyes of Love or Blood
Are of no Force against the Public Good.