University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

—A TRIUMPHAL ARCH AT THE ENTRANCE INTO BABYLON.
Enter Alexander in a triumphal Car; Trophies and warlike ensigns in procession before him; Clytus, Hephestion, Lysimachus, Cassander, Polyperchon, Thessalus, Eumenes, Chorus of Priests, Youths and Virgins, Guards, and Attendants.


Heph.
Hail, son of Jove! great Alexander, hail!

Alex.
Rise all; and thou, my second self, my friend,
Oh, my Hephestion!—raise thee from the earth!
Come to my arms, and hide thee in my heart;
Nearer, yet nearer, else thou lov'st me not.

Heph.
Not love my king! bear witness, all ye powers,
And let your thunder nail me to the centre,
If sacred friendship ever burn'd more brightly!
Immortal bosoms can alone admit
A flame more pure, more permanent than mine.

Alex.
Thou dearer to me than my groves of laurel!
I know thou lov'st thy Alexander more,
Than Clytus does the king.

Lysi.
Now for my fate!
I see that death awaits me—yet I'll on.
Dread Sir, I cast me at your royal feet.

Alex.
Rise, my Lysimachus; thy veins and mine
From the same fountain have deriv'd their streams.
Rise to my arms, and let thy king embrace thee.
Is not that Clytus?

Clyt.
Your old faithful soldier.

Alex.
Clytus, thy hand;—thy hand, Lysimachus:
Thus double-arm'd, methinks,
I stand tremendous as the Lybian god,
Who, while his priests and I quaff'd sacred blood,
Acknowledg'd me his son; my lightning thou,
And thou, my mighty thunder. I have seen
Thy glitt'ring sword out-fly celestial fire;
And, when I've cry'd, Begone, and execute,
I've seen him run swifter than starting hinds,
Nor bent the tender grass beneath his feet.

Lysi.
When fame invites, and Alexander leads,
Dangers and toils but animate the brave.

Clyt.
Perish the soldier, inglorious and despis'd,
Who starts from either, when the king cries—on!

Alex.
Oh, Clytus! Oh, my noble veteran!
'Twas, I remember, when pass'd the Granicus,
Thy arm preserv'd me from unequal force;
When fierce Itanor and the bold Rhesaces,
Fell both upon me with two mighty blows,
And clove my temper'd helmet quite asunder,
Then, like a god, flew Clytus to my aid,
Thy thunder struck Rhesaces to the ground,
And turn'd with ready vengeance on Itanor.

Clyt.
To your own deeds that victory you owe,
And sure your arms did never boast a nobler.

Alex.
By Heav'n, they never did: they never can:
And I am prouder to have pass'd that stream,
Than to have driven a million o'er the plain.
Can none remember,—Yes, I know all must—
When glory, like the dazzling eagle, stood
Perch'd on my beaver in the Granic flood;
When fortune's self my standard trembling bore,
And the pale fates stood frighted on the shore;
When each immortal on the billows rode,
And I myself appear'd the leading god.

Enter Aristander.
Aris.
Haste, first of heroes, from this fatal place;
Far, far from Babylon, enjoy your triumph,
Or all the glories, which your youth has won,
Are blasted in their spring.

Alex.
What mean thy fears?
And why that wild distraction on thy brow?

Aris.
This morn, great king, I view'd the angry sky,
And, frighted at the direful prodigies,
To Orosmades for instruction flew;
But as I pray'd, deep echoing groans I heard,
And shrieks, as of the damn'd that howl for sin.
Shock'd at the omen, while amaz'd I lay
In prostrate rev'rence on the trembling floor,
Thus spoke the god:
The brightest glory of imperial man,
The pride of nations, and the boast of fame,
Remorseless fate in Babylon has doom'd
To sudden and irrevocable ruin.

Alex.
If Heav'n ordains, that Babylon must fall,
Can I prevent the immutable decree?

Enter Perdiccas.
Perd.
Oh, horror! horror! Dreadful and portentous!

Alex.
How now, Perdiccas! Whence this exclamation?

Perd.
As Meleager and myself, this morn,
Led forth the Persian horse to exercise,
We heard a noise as of a rushing wind;
When suddenly a flight of baleful birds,
Like a thick cloud, obscur'd the face of heav'n;
On sounding wings from diff'rent parts they flew,
Encount'ring met, and battled in the air;
Their talons clash'd, their beaks gave mighty blows,
And show'rs of blood fell copious from their wounds.

Alex.
Though all the curtains of the sky were drawn,
And the stars wink, young Ammon shall go on;
While my Statira shines, I cannot stray,
Love lifts his torch to light me on my way,
And her bright eyes create another day.

Lysi.
Vouchsafe, dread Sir, to hear my humble suit,
A prince intreats it, and what's more, your kinsman.

Alex.
A soldier asks it; that's the noblest claim.

Lysi.
For all the services my sword has done,
Humbly I beg the Princess Parisatis.

Alex.
Lysimachus, no more;—it is not well;—
My word, you know, is to Hephestion given:
How dare you then—but let me hear no more on't.

Lysi.
At your command, to scale th'embattled wall,
Or fetch the gore-dy'd standard from the foe,
When has Hephestion flown with warmer zeal!
When did he leave Lysimachus behind?
These I have done, for these were in my pow'r;
But when you charge me to renounce my love,
And from my thoughts to banish Parisatis,
Obedience there becomes impossible;
Nature revolts, and my whole soul rebels.

Alex.
It does, brave Sir!—Now hear me, and be dumb!
When by my order curst Calisthenes
Was as a traitor doom'd to live in torments,—
Your pity sped him in despight of me.
Think not, I have forgot your insolence;
No; though I pardon'd it:—yet, if again
Thou dar'st to cross me with another crime,
The bolts of fury shall be doubled on thee.—
In the mean time—think not of Parisatis;
For if thou dost—by the immortal Ammon!
I'll not regard that blood of mine thou shar'st,
But use thee as the vilest Macedonian.

Lysi.
I knew you partial, ere I mov'd my suit;
Yet know, it shakes not my determin'd purpose;
While I have life and strength to wield a sword,
I never will forego the glorious claim.

Alex.
Against my life!—ha! traitor, was it so?
'Tis said, that I am rash, of hasty humour;
But I appeal to the immortal gods,
If ever petty, poor, provincial lord
Had temper like to mine? My slave, whom I
Could tread to clay, dares utter bloody threats.

Clyt.
Forgive, dread Sir, the frantic warmth of love;
The noble prince, I read it in his eyes,
Wou'd die a thousand deaths to serve his king.
And justify his loyalty and truth.

Lysi.
I meant, his minion there should feel my arm.
Love claims his blood, nor shall he live to triumph
In that destruction that awaits his rival.

Alex.
I pardon thee, for my old Clytus's sake;—
But if once more thou mention thy rash love,
Or dar'st attempt Hephestion's precious life,
I'll pour such storms of indignation on thee,
Philotas' rack, Calisthenes' disgrace,
Shall be delights, to what thou shalt endure.

Clyt.
My lord, the aged queen, with Parisatis,
Come to congratulate your safe arrival.

Enter Sysigambis and Parisatis.
Alex.
Oh, thou, the best of women, Sysigambis,
Source of my joy, blest parent of my love!

Sysi.
In humble duty to the gods and you,
Permit us, Sir, with gratitude to bow.
Through you the royal house of Persia shines,
Rais'd from the depth of wretchedness and ruin,
In all the splendour of imperial greatness.

Alex.
To meet me thus,—was generously done;
But still there wants, to crown my happiness,
That treasure of my soul, my dear Statira:
Had she but come to meet her Alexander,
I had been blest indeed.

Clyt.
Now who shall dare
To tell him of the queen's vow?

Alex.
How fares
My love?—Ha! neither answer me! all silent!
A sudden horror, like a bolt of ice,
Shoots to my heart, and numbs the seat of life.

Heph.
I would relate it, but my courage fails me.

Alex.
Why stand you all as you were rooted here?
What, will none answer? my Hephestion silent?
If thou hast any love for Alexander;
If ever I oblig'd thee by my care,
When through the field of death my eye has watched thee
Resolve my doubts, and rescue me from madness.

Heph.
Your mourning queen has no disease but grief
Occasion'd by the jealous pangs of love.
She heard, dread Sir, (for what can 'scape a lover)
That you, regardless of your vows, at Susa,
Had to Roxana's charms resign'd your heart,
And revell'd in the joys you once forswore.

Alex.
I own, the subtle sorceress, in my riot,
My reason gone, seduc'd me to her bed;
But, when I wak'd, I shook the Circe off;
Nor griev'd I less for that which I had done,
Than when at Thais suit, enrag'd with wine,
I set the fam'd Persepolis on fire.

Heph.
Your queen Statira, in the rage of grief,
And agony of desp'rate love, has sworn,
Never to see your Majesty again.

Alex.
Oh, Madam, has she, has Statira sworn
Never to see her Alexander more?
Impossible! she cou'd not, wou'd not swear it.
Is she not gentle as the guiless infant,
Mild as the genial breezes of the spring,
And softer than the melting sighs of love?

Pari.
With sorrow, Sir, I heard the solemn vow;
My mother heard it, and in vain adjur'd her,
By every tender motive, to recal it.

Sysi.
But with that fierceness she resents her wrongs,
Dwells on your fault, and heightens the offence,
That I could wish your majesty forget her.

Alex.
Ha, could you wish me to forget Statira
The star which brightens Alexander's life.
His guide by day, and goddess of his nights!
I feel her now; she beats in every pulse,
Throbs at my heart, and circles with my blood.

Sysi.
Have patience, Sir, and trust to Heav'n and me;
If my authority has any influence,
I will exert it, and she shall be yours.

Alex.
Haste, Madam, haste, if you would have me live;
Fly, ere, for ever, she abjure the world,
And stop the sad procession,—Parisatis,
Hang thou about her, wash her feet with tears.
Nay, haste; the breath of gods, and eloquence
Of angels, go along with you.
[Exeunt Sysigambis and Parisatis.
Oh, my heart.

Lysi.
Now let your majesty, who feels the pangs
Of disappointed love, reflect on mine.

Alex.
Ha!

Clyt.
What, are you mad? Is this a time to plead?

Lysi.
The prop'rest time; he dares not now be partial,
Lest Heav'n, in justice, should avenge my wrongs,
And double ev'ry pang which he feels now.

Alex.
Why dost thou tempt me thus to thy undoing?
Death thou shouldst have, were it not courted so.
But know, to thy confusion, that my word,
Like destiny, admits of no repeal:
Therefore in chains shalt thou behold the nuptials
Of my Hephestion. Guards, take him prisoner.

[The Guards seize Lysimachus.
Lysi.
Away, ye slaves, I'll not resign my sword,
Till first I've drench'd it in my rival's blood.

Alex.
I charge you kill him not; take him alive:
The dignity of kings is now concern'd,
And I will find a way to tame this rebel.

Clyt.
Kneel—for I see rage lightning in his eyes.

Lysi.
I neither hope, nor will I sue for pardon;
Had I my sword and liberty again,
Again I would attempt his favourite's heart.

Alex.
Hence, from my sight, and bear him to a dungeon.
Perdiccas, give this lion to a lion.—
None speak for him; fly; stop his mouth, away.

[Exeunt Lysi. Perd. and Guards.
Clyt.
This comes of women—the result of love.
Yet were I heated now with wine, I doubt
I should be preaching in this fools behalf.

Alex.
Come hither, Clytus, and my friend Hephestion;
Lend me your arms; for I am sick o'the sudden.
I fear, betwixt Statira's cruel vows,
And fond Roxana's arts, your king will fall.

Clyt.
Better the race of women were destroyed,
And Persia sunk in everlasting ruin.

Heph.
Look up, my lord, and bend not thus your head,
As if you purpos'd to forsake the world,
Which you have greatly won.

Alex.
Wou'd I had not;
There's no true joy in such unweildly fortune.
Eternal gazers lasting troubles make;
All find my spots, but few observe my brightness.
Stand from about me all, and give me air!
Yes, I will shake this Cupid from my soul;
I'll fright the feeble god with wars alarms,
Or drown his pow'r in floods of hostile blood.
Grant me, great Mars, once more in arms to shine,
And break, like lightning, through th'embattled line;
O'er fields of death to whirl the rapid car,
And blaze amidst the thunder of the war,
Resistless as the bolt that rends the grove;—
Or greatly perish, like the son of Jove.

[Exeunt.