 | Belisarius |  |
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ACT I.
SCENE I.
The Scene of Action is at Constantinople.An Anti-Chamber of the Palace.
Enter Hermogenes.
He comes, the happy Belisarius comes,
Adorn'd with Conquest, and with Laurel crown'd.
In golden Chains Kings swell the glitt'ring Pomp,
And Chariots bend with Loads of foreign Spoils.
Confusion ravages the crouded Streets;
Wild Uproar reigns, and Discord wounds the Air.
The Infants strein their tender Throats to cry,
The Sky resounds, great Belisarius comes.
The Peasant throws aside his Ax and Plough;
The Merchant leaves to tempt the angry Main;
Nor is the greedy Bar litigious now.
Adorn'd with Conquest, and with Laurel crown'd.
In golden Chains Kings swell the glitt'ring Pomp,
And Chariots bend with Loads of foreign Spoils.
Confusion ravages the crouded Streets;
Wild Uproar reigns, and Discord wounds the Air.
The Infants strein their tender Throats to cry,
The Sky resounds, great Belisarius comes.
The Peasant throws aside his Ax and Plough;
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Nor is the greedy Bar litigious now.
Nor for a thankless Master has he fought.
Justinian studies to repay his Toils;
Valeria is design'd his great Reward,
And Pow'r and Honour will attend the Gift.
Justinian studies to repay his Toils;
Valeria is design'd his great Reward,
And Pow'r and Honour will attend the Gift.
What then, Hermogenes! remains to thee?
Obscur'd by him, my Grandeur soon will fade.
For, me he hates, and scorns the Tricks of Courts.
The Arts and Wiles which purchas'd Cæsar's Grace,
First Fav'rite late, chief Minister of State,
Will nought avail me, Belisarius here.
Fame has no Tongue but in the Victor's Praise.
Obscur'd by him, my Grandeur soon will fade.
For, me he hates, and scorns the Tricks of Courts.
The Arts and Wiles which purchas'd Cæsar's Grace,
First Fav'rite late, chief Minister of State,
Will nought avail me, Belisarius here.
Fame has no Tongue but in the Victor's Praise.
Then He or I must fall; both cannot stand.
The Choice is easie, but the Means are hard.
Enter Macro.
But see! my Heart can entertain some Joy;
Welcome, my Brother! welcome, to my Arms!
This to the Ties of Blood, to Friendship this.
The Choice is easie, but the Means are hard.
Enter Macro.
But see! my Heart can entertain some Joy;
Welcome, my Brother! welcome, to my Arms!
This to the Ties of Blood, to Friendship this.
Mac.
My ever honour'd Lord! Brother by Blood,
My Friend by Choice, a Parent in thy Care.
The Rank I hold, the Fortune I possess
Are owing to the wise Hermogenes.
Her.
I long'd to see, to press thee to my Breast.
But wherefore, Macro, hast thou left the Pomp,
Forborn thy Part of this triumphant Day?
Thy Sword (if Fame deceives not my glad Ears)
Hath reap'd thee Laurels, and shou'd share the Praise.
Mac.
Let the wild Rabble roar, I fly their Praise,
And with Disdain I hear th'acclaiming Croud.
Me other Thoughts molest, me Cares oppress,
And drive me to thy friendly Arms for Aid.
For Aid to thee I fly, thy Censure dread.
Thou wilt upbraid my Weakness, scorn my Griefs,
Think me Justinian's Foe, nay think me thine,
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Thou shalt behold my Face obscur'd with Gloom,
And catch me smothering a broken Sigh.
Her.
Is Belisarius, proud of his Success,
Unmindful of thy Worth? he wou'd defraud
The Soldiers of their Due, and haughtily
Engross the Glories which their Arms have gain'd.
Mac.
Oh were he such! I then had room to hope.
Not the first Cæsar was in his Resolves
More firm, or flew more swift to execute.
Not Fabius was more wise, more circumspect.
Never was Man more lavish of his Blood
In Glory's hot Pursuit; the Conquest gain'd,
Joyful he gives the Soldier their just Fame,
He shares the Fame, but yields them all the Spoil.
Thus just, thus wise, thus brave, thus fortunate,
Modest and temperate; yet—may I speak—
Her.
Boldly.
Mac.
Thus then; I envy—
Her.
On.
Mac.
I hate—
Her.
More yet.
Mac.
Detest, and wou'd to Death pursue—
Her.
Say, Belisarius.
Mac.
You have sav'd my Tongue
The Shame of naming him,—but him I hate.
Her.
My Brother! in thy Bosom dwells my Heart.
There is Alliance in our Minds; our Blood,
Our Thoughts, our Wish the same: I too detest
This boasted Warrior, Minion to blind Chance.
We will unite our Forces, to the Earth
Lay low this lofty Pine, and from his Head
Will tear the Laurel which we cannot blast.—
But say, whence springs thy Hate!
Mac.
Why shou'd I blush?
Of what am I asham'd? when I pursue
Great Nature's urgent Law; that prompts me on,
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Oh Love! oh mighty Love! thee I obey,
At thy dread Altars bend; thou hast defac'd
All other Thoughts; my only Sovereign Thou!
Her.
Love is the Cause! a Woman is concern'd!
In Courts and Towns luxurious, Love presides.
Not the rough Warrior free! not Camps exempt!
Busie, alluring Plague! pernicious Joy!
Woman moves me too, but Ambition more.—
Of that at leisure Hours.—thy Story now.
Mac.
I need not tell (our Parent Italy,
O'er-run with Goths, a wild and num'rous Herd,
Contemning Peace and desperate in War)
That Belisarius, bless'd in all Attempts,
In Triumph late return'd, Africk subdu'd.—
Her.
'Tis needless this, and irksome to my Ears.
Too well I know his swift Success; how soon
His Fortune or his Skill in Arms o'erthrew
The Gothic Pow'r, which near an Age prevail'd.
His magnify'd Defence of Rome, one Year
Enclos'd with hostile Troops; how thence he drove
The Gothic King, the warlike Vitiges
Back to Ravenna, his proud Capital,
Forced him to Terms, and thou the Hostage sent.
Mac.
Thence springs my Hate, from thence my Griefs arise.
Oh had I been condemn'd to toil in Mines,
To Exile sent, depriv'd of darling Sight!
Thee fair Almira I had ne'er beheld,
Nor made my Fame a Sacrifice to Love,
To fond, insulting, to desponding Love.
There I beheld thee first: caught with thy Charms
I strove to mediate Peace; rejected that,
For Vitiges, thy Father mildest Terms
Procur'd; unprofitable Service found!
The Victor, Belisarius, he alone
Was worthy thy Regard. For him disdain'd,
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Fled I pursue, rejected I adore.
Her.
And Belisarius—owns he too her Pow'r?
Mac.
Who can behold, and yet resist such Pow'r?
Oh fatal Beauty! oh resistless Charms!
Guard well thy Heart, fly her inchanting Voice,
Dare not to view so elegant a Form,
Avoid the Lustre of her radiant Eyes,
Or in the Lover I shall lose my Friend.
Her.
Does Belisarius then resign his Heart,
And love the Daughter of the Roman Foe?
Imprudent Choice! Note that Hermogenes.—
Already I have spy'd the Path which leads
To gratifie Ambition and Revenge.
Not all the Statesman's Forecast, all his Art
Cou'd have contriv'd a Scheme so apt, to hurl
This tow'ring Belisarius from his height,
As Chance hath careless offer'd to my Thoughts.
And love the Daughter of the Roman Foe?
Imprudent Choice! Note that Hermogenes.—
Already I have spy'd the Path which leads
To gratifie Ambition and Revenge.
Not all the Statesman's Forecast, all his Art
Cou'd have contriv'd a Scheme so apt, to hurl
This tow'ring Belisarius from his height,
As Chance hath careless offer'd to my Thoughts.
Men may boast Wisdom, it is Chance invents,
Chance gives the Hint. Let it suffice, if we
Can take the Hint and form it to our Use.—
But Proclus comes—the Gen'ral's Favourite.
Chance gives the Hint. Let it suffice, if we
Can take the Hint and form it to our Use.—
But Proclus comes—the Gen'ral's Favourite.
Mac.
Sent to know where the Pageantry must end.
This Anti-Chamber is th'appointed Place.
Enter Proclus.
Her.
Change we our Language then and sooth his Pride.
Hail worthy Proclus! let me fold thee here,
And shew I share the Joy thy Eyes divulge.
Pro.
He were no Friend to Honour, Justice, Truth,
No Friend to Cæsar, or the Roman Name,
If Joy dilated not his Breast this Day.
Again the Roman Name is great in Arms,
To Heav'n ascends, with former Splendor shines,
And Rome again obeys her rightful Lord.
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When Belisarius leads, Fortune submits,
Or charm'd, or aw'd, no various Goddess she.
He wars secure, fated to Victory,
Belov'd of Heav'n and deify'd by Men.
Justinian delegates to him his Pow'r,
And wisely sits supine, dull Business scorn'd.
The Name of Cæsar justly is forgot,
'Tis Belisarius fills all Mouths, all Hearts.
Pro.
Well, I perceive thy Aim; thou do'st propose
Invidious, to extol his Name too high,
And ruin by exaggerated Praise.
Thy Taper dim and faint appears, expos'd
To his bright Rays; he justly holds first Place
In Cæsar's Breast. Repine thou Macro too,
That fair Almira hears thy Love with Scorn.
Combine in Hate, employ the Courtier's Loom,
Smile, fawn, betray, use all insidious Arts,
Weave fine the Snare, but see the Twines are strong,
Arachne's Web so bars the Eagle's Flight.
Her.
Unkind Return! unjustly you suspect:
Yet this provokes not, nor abates our Love.
Shou'd Belisarius entertain such Thoughts,
'Tis decent to retire, lest we offend
His Sight, and damp the universal Joy.
[Exeunt Her. and Macro.
Pro.
I never view that Face without Distaste:
His Looks alarm my Soul, and bid beware.
Men say, the Visage shou'd no Credit find—
Erroneous Thought! Nature, direct and plain,
Stamps on the Face the Purpose of the Mind.
The good or bad Intentions of the Heart
Work out, and on the Visage are display'd.
The Traytor Look, which shews the Traytor Heart,
Is then the honest Look; fair warning gives
And bids us not confide. If then we are
Deceiv'd, blame we our fond Credulity:
Our Vanity and Pride enslave our Reason,
And yield us captive to fallacious Tongues.
His Looks alarm my Soul, and bid beware.
Men say, the Visage shou'd no Credit find—
Erroneous Thought! Nature, direct and plain,
Stamps on the Face the Purpose of the Mind.
The good or bad Intentions of the Heart
Work out, and on the Visage are display'd.
The Traytor Look, which shews the Traytor Heart,
Is then the honest Look; fair warning gives
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Deceiv'd, blame we our fond Credulity:
Our Vanity and Pride enslave our Reason,
And yield us captive to fallacious Tongues.
But heark, the Trumpets—
Belisarius comes.
Enter Belisarius in Triumph, &c. Vitiges and Almira.
'Tis Cæsar's Will I shou'd attend you here.
[To Belisarius.
Plac'd on his Throne, to grace your Triumph more,
He will receive you with conspicuous Joy.
I go, to notifie your wish'd Approach.
[Exit Proclus.
Belisarius comes.
Enter Belisarius in Triumph, &c. Vitiges and Almira.
'Tis Cæsar's Will I shou'd attend you here.
[To Belisarius.
Plac'd on his Throne, to grace your Triumph more,
He will receive you with conspicuous Joy.
I go, to notifie your wish'd Approach.
Bel.
I do not, Vitiges, condemn your Grief,
Of Pow'r divested and in Triumph led.
But blame not me; blame your malignant Stars,
Your adverse Fortune, Fate or what you will;
I only execute what Cæsar wills,
He bids me war, Custom ordains this Pomp.
Vig.
I blame not you, nor of my Stars complain;
Reproach and Censure fall on me alone.
My Brows surrounded with a Diadem,
The Purple from my Shoulders flowing loose,
Thus regally adorn'd I shou'd have dy'd,
In the tumultuous Breach I shou'd have fall'n,
And born my Honours spotless to the Grave.
Bel.
A brave Defence of Towns besieg'd, a wise
Retreat equals the Conqueror's Renown.
Retreat equals the Conqueror's Renown.
But, oh Almira! when I view thy Face
O'erspread with Care, when I behold those Eyes,
Those Heav'nly Eyes, which wont to chear my Soul,
Now bent on Earth and swol'n with pearly Drops,
My Glories I renounce, my Triumph hate,
Asham'd of Conquest, grievous to thy Peace.
Some Merit I may boast, some Favours claim
For Service pass'd; Justinian wise and good,
Will hear my Pray'rs and will restore thy Peace.
O'erspread with Care, when I behold those Eyes,
Those Heav'nly Eyes, which wont to chear my Soul,
Now bent on Earth and swol'n with pearly Drops,
My Glories I renounce, my Triumph hate,
Asham'd of Conquest, grievous to thy Peace.
Some Merit I may boast, some Favours claim
For Service pass'd; Justinian wise and good,
Will hear my Pray'rs and will restore thy Peace.
But see the Door unfolds—Cæsar appears.
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Jus.
Come to my Arms, to my Embraces rise.
Welcome, my Soldier! Atlas of my State!
More than Supporter, the Enlarger Thou!
The happy Instrument of Heav'n, to give
Our Empire Peace, and subjugate her Foes.
Bel.
My Triumph is compleat, my Joys are full,
When such Reception You vouchsafe to give.
Chearful the Soldier toils, undaunted fights,
Secure of Recompence in Cæsar's Smiles.
Jus.
Be witness all, let every Nation know,
From ev'ry Nation thou hast purchas'd Fame,
How dear, how high thou art in our Esteem.
Thou scarce canst add to what I owe thy Sword,
Nor canst demerit by hereafter Deeds.
The impious Wretch who dares infuse Distrust,
Envy or Jealousy in our just Mind,
Pulls sure Destruction on his miscreant Head.
From ev'ry Nation thou hast purchas'd Fame,
How dear, how high thou art in our Esteem.
Thou scarce canst add to what I owe thy Sword,
Nor canst demerit by hereafter Deeds.
The impious Wretch who dares infuse Distrust,
Envy or Jealousy in our just Mind,
Pulls sure Destruction on his miscreant Head.
But say, my Warrior! wou'dst thou ought require
To shew our Love, to prove our Gratitude?
To shew our Love, to prove our Gratitude?
Bel.
Encourag'd thus: allow me to present
This Royal Pair, Objects of Clemency.
This Vitiges—his lovely Daughter this.
Let them not pine in sad Captivity,
Assuage their Sorrows and pronounce them free.
Jus.
Kind and benevolent are thy Demands,
And but anticipate what we resolv'd.—
Be free—Be ever from this Moment free.
And if there may remain to recompense
The Loss of Empire and of sov'reign Pow'r,
When Belisarius asks be gratify'd.
And but anticipate what we resolv'd.—
Be free—Be ever from this Moment free.
And if there may remain to recompense
The Loss of Empire and of sov'reign Pow'r,
When Belisarius asks be gratify'd.
But to the Temple let us now proceed—
Your Presence is not necessary there.
[To Vitiges.
There shew our Transports, there compleat our Joy.
Imperfect is our Joy, 'till we have paid
Our holy Off'rings at the Shrine; just Debt.
For Gratitude but in the Will design'd,
Brings sweetest Comfort to the honest Mind.
[Exit Justinian.
Your Presence is not necessary there.
[To Vitiges.
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Imperfect is our Joy, 'till we have paid
Our holy Off'rings at the Shrine; just Debt.
For Gratitude but in the Will design'd,
Brings sweetest Comfort to the honest Mind.
Bel.
Proclus, my Friend—my Duty calls me hence,
[To Vitiges.
Will shew the Palace order'd to your Use.
Constantinople now can vie with Rome.
The Sons of ancient Rome have oft beheld
Princes beneath their hospitable Roofs,
Who sought Protection and implor'd their Aid.
Nor is their Glory yet so far impair'd,
But still they hold a Rank which Princes seek;
The greatest Kings to Cæsar sue for Grace,
And glory still in the Patrician Name.
If I have Pow'r, that Dignity is yours,
With Affluence to live in Royal State.
May this prevail to mollify your Cares!
May this deface the Injuries of War!
And when Almira deigns to say she loves,
Nor Goth nor Vandal shall exceed her Pomp.
The Gold of Africa shall pave her Way,
And Asia's Gems shall blaze around her Head.
Alm.
Whence springs the Pow'r of Love! whence fly his Darts!
Mysterious Cause! involuntary Flame!
The King my Father conquer'd by your Arms,
Victorious ever! Both in Triumph led,
This shou'd raise Thoughts repugnant to soft Love.
And yet I cannot hate, and when I say
I cannot hate, I then confess too much.
Bel.
I cannot ask, nor can you grant too much,
When faithful honourable Love demands,
And by a Father authoris'd that Love,
That Blessing only can compleat my Joys,
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Alm.
A Virgin's Pray'r shou'd be to guard her Heart,
And spend her Days in Innocence and Peace.
The Joys of Love are pompously describ'd,
She, fears the Tryal artless and unskill'd,
And checks the Passion fatal to her Rest.
And spend her Days in Innocence and Peace.
The Joys of Love are pompously describ'd,
She, fears the Tryal artless and unskill'd,
And checks the Passion fatal to her Rest.
The Hind surveys the Stream with wishing Eyes;
But all around the Hounds and Toils descries.
Prompted by Thirst, but more compell'd with Fear,
She flies the Taste, where Danger is so near.
But all around the Hounds and Toils descries.
Prompted by Thirst, but more compell'd with Fear,
She flies the Taste, where Danger is so near.
[Exeunt severally.
| Belisarius | |