University of Virginia Library

ACT the Third.

Scene the First.

The Curtain is let down—being drawn up, discovers Orsames seated on a Throne asleep, drest in Royal Robes, the Crown and Scepter lying by on a Table. On either side of the Stage Courtiers richly drest, and multitude of Lights. Above is discovered the Queen, Olympia, and Women, Pimante, Artabazes, Ismenes: Soft Musick plays, whilst he wakes by degrees, and gazes round about him, and on himself with wonder.
Orsa.
—Gods! what am I?
—Or, is there any other Gods but I?

Ger.
Yes, my great Lord—
But you're a King, a mighty Monarch, Sir.

Osa.
I understand thee, 'tis some God thou mean'st.

Ger.
On Earth it is; your Power too is as great:
Your Frowns destroy, and when you smile you bless;
At every nood, the whole Creation bows,
And lay their grateful Tributes at your feet;
Their Lives are yours, and when you daign to take 'em,
There's not a mortal dares defend himself:
But that you may the more resemble Heaven,
You should be merciful and bountiful.

Orsa.
I do believe I am this King thou speak'st of.

Ger.
Behold this Crown—this sacred thing is yours.

[Kneels and gives him the Crown and Scepter; he puts it on, and walks about.
Orsa.
It is a glorious Object—
And fit for none but me—

Olim.
Madam, methinks the King is the finest man
That e'er I saw—shall he not still be King?

Queen.
I hope he will deserve it.

Ors.
So, now methinks I move like Heaven it self,
All circled round with Stars.
—Hah!—what's this that kneels?

[The Queen kneels, he snatches her up.
Ger.
The Queen your Mother, Sir.—

Ors.
By my great self it is another woman,
Which I have burnt with a desire of seeing:
—Begone, and leave us here alone together;
I've something to impart to this fair thing,
Must not be understood by you.

Queen.
Why, Sir, what is't you can impart to me,
Which those about you must not understand?

Ors.
A new Philosophy inspired by Nature,
And much above whatever Geron taught,
—Come and augment my knowledge.

Queen.
Why me, Sir, more than any one about you?

Ors.
Thou art all soft and sweet like springing Flowers,
And gentle as the undisturbed Air.

Queen.
But I am your Mother.

Ors.
No matter: thou'rt a woman, art thou not?
And being so, the Mother cannot awe me.

Ger.
Sir, 'tis the person gave you life and being.

Ors.
That gave me life! oh how I love thee for't!
Come—and I'le pay thee back such kind returns—

Ger.
Most Royal Sir, this Woman was
Not made by Heaven—for you.

Ors.
Away with your Philosophie; but now you said—
I was a King, a mighty God on Earth,
And by that Power I may do any thing.

Ger.
But Kings are just as well as powerful, Sir.

Ors.
I am so to my self, do not oppose me.

Ger.
Sir, this is one not meant, not form'd for you.

Ors:
Am I a God, and can be disobey'd?
Remove that Contradictor from my sight,
And let him live no longer: ha, more Women!
Enter Olympia, and other Women.
Oh Nature, how thou'st furnish'd me with store!
And finer far than this—
[Gazes on Olympia.
—But what is that whose Eyes give Laws to all,
And like the Sun, eclipses the lesser Lights?

Queen.
Speak to him, Olympia.

Ors.
Who tells me what she is?

Olym.
Oh how I tremble!—Sir, I am a Maid.

Ors.
A Maid! and may you be approacht with Knees and Prayers?

[Kneels.
Olym.
I am your Slave, you must not kneel to me—

[Takes him up.
Ors.
How soon my Glories vanisht!
Till now I did believe I was some God,
And had my Power and my Divinity
Within my will, but by this awful fear
I find that thou art the greater Deity:
—Pray tell me fairest, are you not a Woman?

Olym.
I am a Woman, and a Virgin, Sir.

Ors.
I did believe that thou wert something more.
For I have seen a woman, and ne'er knew
So much disorder in my Soul before:
—For every look of thine gives me a pain,
And draws my Heart out of its wonted seat.

Olym.
Alas, Sir, have I hurt you?

Ors.
Extreamly hurt me, thou hast a secret power,
And canst at distance wound,
Which none but Heaven and you could ever do:
—But 'twas my fault, had I not gaz'd on thee,
I had been still a King, and full of health.
—Here—receive this Crown, 'tis now unfit for me,
Since thou hast greater power—whilst it sits here—
[He takes off his Crown and puts it on her.
It looks like Stars fal'n from their proper Sphere;
—So, now they're fixt again.

Queen.
Pimante, speak to him to take it back.

Pim.
He kills me with his looks.
—Sir, when you part with this, you'le be despis'd;
Your Glory, and your Thunder, all will vanish.

Ors.
I yet have something that shall make thee fear,
I am still a King, though I must bow to her;
Take him away to death immediately—

Pim.
Any where to be out of your sight—
A King, quotha!

[Exit.
Ors.
Come, my fair Virgin, this shall be my Altar,
And I will place thee here my Deity.

Queen.
Great Sir, that Throne is onely fit for you.

Ors.
I say again, I'le have it fit for two:
Thou art a Woman, thank the Gods for that:
—Ascend, my lovely Virgin, and adorn it:
Ascend, and be immortal as my self.

Art.
That Throne she was not born to.

Ger.
Into the Sea with that bold Councellor,
And let him there dispute with Winds and Waves.
[Art. Exit.
Being seated on the Throne, Enter several in Masquerade and dance.
—Cou'd I be sensible of any pleasure
But what I take in thee, this had surpriz'd me.

Olym.
A Banquet, Sir, attends you.

Ors.
Dispose me as you please, my lovely Virgin,
For I've resign'd my being to your will,
And have no more of what I call my own,
Than sense of Joys and Pains, which you create.

[They rise, and sit down at a Banquet. He gazes on her.
Olym.
Will you not please to eat?

Ors.
It is too gross a pleasure for a King:
Sure, if they eat, 'tis some Celestial Food,
As I do by gazing on thy Eyes—
Ah lovely Maid!—

Olym.
Why do you sigh, Sir?

Ors.
For something which I want; yet having thee,
What more can Heaven bestow to gratifie
My Soul and Sense withal?

Olym.
Sir, taste this Wine;
Perhaps 'twill alter that deceiv'd opinion,
And let you know the errour of your Passion;
'Twill cause, at least, some alteration in you.

Ors.
Why should'st thou ask so poor a proof of me?
But yet, I will obey;—give me the Wine.

[They put something into the Bowl.
Olym.
How do you like it, Sir?

Ors.
Why—well; but I am still the same.
Come, give it me again—'tis very pleasant—
Will you not taste it too?—
Methinks my Soul is grown more gay and vigorous;
What I've drank, has deifi'd thee more,
Heightens the pleasures which I take to gaze on thee,
And sends a thousand strange uneasie Joys,
That play about my Heart, and more transport me:
Drink, my fair Virgin, and perhaps thy eyes
May find some Charms in me to make thee thus.

Olym.
Alas they've found already but too many.

[Aside.
Ors.
I thought I must have gaz'd on thee for ever;
—But oh! my Eyes grow heavy in the play,
As if some strange Divinity above me
Told me my safety lay in their declension:
—Is it not Sleep?—Sure Kings do never sleep;
That were a low submission to a power
A Monarch should despise—but yet 'tis so:
Ye Gods, am I but mortal then?
Or do you ever sleep? I find ye do;
But I must—and lose this lovely object:
Grant, oh ye Gods, that I may find it in a Dream,
Let her Idea hover about my Soul,
And keep it still in this harmonious Order—
—And gently blow the flame 't has kindled there.

[Falls asleep.
Enter Geron, Pimante, and Arates.
Pim.
Are ye sure he's asleep?

Ger.
How do you like him, Madam?

Queen.
I fear he is a Tyrant in his nature.

Ger.
But, since he can be tam'd by Love and Beauty,
You should not doubt but he'll be fit to reign.

Queen.
Remove him now into his own Apartment,
And still continue to impose upon him,
Till you receive new Orders.

[Exeunt.

SCENE the Second.

Enter Cleomena, with a Truncheon in her hand, a Sword and Quiver of Arrows by her side, with Semiris.
Sem.
Madam, you are sad,
As if you doubted your success to day.

Cleo.
There are some moments wherein I do repent me
The too rash Banishment of poor Clemanthis.
How did he take the Letter which I sent?

Sem.
As persons innocent and full of health
Receive unlookt-for Sentences of Death;
He sigh'd, and said he would obey your will;
And, Madam, had you seen his silent grief,
You would have thought him innocent.

Cleo.
Innocent! banish that foolish pity from your heart
That would perswade thee he is innocent:
Did not I see him courting of Olympia?
And can my Eyes deceive me?

Sem.
Olympia, Madam! Gods, what do I hear!
Till now I did not know his fault of banishment.

Cleo.
And was't not cause enough?

Sem.
Ah, Madam, what injustice have you done?
Before Clemanthis came into your Cabinet
He entertain'd me for a pretty while
With the intentions of your generous Uncle,
He told me how he offer'd him Olympia,
And that he durst not seem to disesteem it,
Being your Uncle, and a man to whom
He ow'd so much: but most to hide his passion;
And then was coming to consult with you
How he should manage this affair with him.

Cleo.
And is this truth thou tell'st me, dear Semiris?

Sem.
Madam, I do not use t' abuse your credit.

Cleo.
Fly then, Semiris, and reverse his doom.

Sem.
Would I knew whither, Madam.

Cleo.
Why, is he then no longer in the Camp?

Sem.
Ah, Madam, is he longer in the world?
For 'tis impossible to be imagined
He parted hence with any thought of life.

Cleo.
Send ev'ry way to find him—hark, I'm call'd—
[Trumpets sound.
And he that finds him first, is made for ever.
Oh Jealousie, thou passion most ingrate!
Thy ills procure more mischiefs than thy hate.
'Tis thou art Tyrant, when Love bears the blame,
'Tis pity thou'rt consistent with Loves flame:
I'le not my weakness nor resentment show;
A Heart like mine, shou'd sooner break than bow.
—Come my Semiris, we too long have stay'd;
That call, till now, was never disobey'd.

[Trumpets sound. Exeunt.

SCENE the Third.

Scythian Tents.
Enter Amintas, drest fine, with Urania.
Ura.
Within this Shade till the black day be past,
I will attend thy Fortune, or thy Fate.

Amin.
The King has taken horse, the Fight's begun,
And I must leave thee to the Gods and Prayer.

Ura.
Why was I made a Woman? or being so,
Why had I not a Masculine courage given me?
That side by side I might have shar'd thy glory,
Or have expir'd together.

Amin.
Thou wilt undo me with this tenderness;
Come, send me kindly from thee,
With joys about my Heart that may preserve it;
Here rest till my return; farewel, my fair.

Ura.
And if I never see thee more, farewel—
[Amin. Exit.
Here I will lay me down, and never rise
Till thou return'st with Lawrel or with Cypress.
[Sits down.
Now I could curse the Fortune of my Prince,
Who quits a Father for an Enemy,
To satisfie a flame will ruine him.
[A noise of fighting.
—The Fight increases: oh ye Gods of battle,
In midst of all your rage preserve my Love.

Enter Artabazes over the Stage, and goes out.
Arta.
My Nephew kill'd! and I dismounted too! oh curst Fate!

Ura.
This noise has comfort in't, it sounds like Victory.
[A hollowing within amongst the noise of fighting.
Enter Amintas.
—Oh Gods! Amintas! what has Fortune done?

Amin.
Th'undaunted Scythians never lost the field,
Yet now at first 'twas doubtful
To which side Fortune would incline her self.
Ismenis kill'd where e'er he turn'd his Sword,
And quite defeated our Agripian Forces;
Yet was not satisfied, knowing the King
To be the price of Cleomena's Heart,
But sought him out on all sides,
Whom 'twas not hard to find;
For he was hurrying now from Rank to Rank,
Distributing a death to all opposers.
But young Ismenis having pierc'd the Squadrons,
And knowing our great King by several Marks,
Boldly cried out,—Defend the life I claim.
The King made no reply, but at that word
Prepar'd himself to fight.

Ura.
Thou kill'st me, till thou bring'st him off again.

Amin.
Disordered thus—the Dacians took advantage,
And charg'd with so much vigour—we gave ground,
When on that side the single Combat was,
There appear'd a body of two thousand Horse,
Led by a man whose looks brought Victory,
And made the conquering Foe retire again:
But when he did perceive the King engag'd,
With unresisted fury he made up,
And rushing in between them,
Gave the young Prince a blow upon his Head,
That struck him from his Horse.
After this Victory Thersander's Name
Did fly from mouth to mouth,
Inspiring every Scythian with new valour:
He kill'd Philemon, and forc'd Artabazes
To seek his safety by his Horses flight:
—But here's the King,—retire into this Wood.

[Ura. exit.
Enter King, Thersander, Officers and Souldiers.
King.
Let me once more embrace my dear Thersander.

Amin.
The Prince is wounded, Sir.

King.
He is,—but they look lovely on him.

Thers.
They're too slight marks to give you of my duty;
Your Majesty has greater need of care.

King.
Thou art my best Physician, and thy sight
Heals all the wounds I have: come in with me,
And let me lay thee to my panting Bosom,
Thou great preserver of my Crown and Life.

Thers.
I'le wait upon you, Sir.
[Exeunt all but Thers. and Amin.
Now let me take thee to my Arms, my Friend;
For thou art half my self, my dear Amintas;
I have strange news to tell thee since we parted,
And need thy counsel in an affair of love:—
—Thou know'st my business to the Dacian Court,
Was to have set thee free; but oh my Friend!
In lieu of that, I've made my self a Captive.

Amin.
Your story, Sir, I know, but heard withal,
The Princess did repay your grateful flame.

Thers.
I thought she did: for so a while she seem'd,
And when I thought my self the most secure,
Being fortifi'd with all her new-made promises,
My blooming hopes were blasted e'er full blown,
And I receiv'd her Orders for my banishment,
Which I as soon obey'd: but by the way
I did conceive a thousand revolutions,
Sometimes to serve my Princess,—then my Father;
Sometimes 'twas Nature got the upper hand,
And then again 'twas Love: in this dispute
I met the Levies of the Isadons,
Who were the last of all our Cavalry,
To whom I made me known, and came so luckily,
As gain'd the yet disputing Victory.

Amin.
'Twas in an happy moment.

Thers.
Thus I compli'd with what I ow'd my duty,
But these of Love are still unsatisfi'd;
Dare I, who could offend to that degree
As to deserve a banishment from her,
Approach her uninvited?

Amin.
'Twere dangerous, Sir.

Thers.
Then 'twere the fitter for my enterprize:
—But her displeasure,—oh my Cleomena!
If, for the punishment of my disobedience,
You'd onely take away that Life you threaten,
How willingly I would resign it up,
Rather than undergo this separation!

Amin.
You'll certainly expose your Life by going:
What other reason could she have to banish you,
But from her knowledge that you were Thersander?
And, Sir, you see her passion for Clemanthis
Could not o'ercome her hatred for her Enemy.

Thers.
No, when I call to mind her cruel words;
If chusing me before so many Kings,
I find 'twas to the Stranger, not the Scythian,
She killingly addrest 'em; therefore I'le venture on in my design;
—Give order that our Horses be made ready,
Whilst I excuse our absence to the King: our stay will not be long,
Mean time it may be thought
We're gone to view the Camp:
Interest and Love but rarely do agree,
Yet I must reconcile 'em both in me.

SCENE the Fourth.

The Dacian Tents.
Enter Queen, Cleo. Hon. Arta. Ism. Women, Attendants.
Cleo.
'Twas strangely lost, and yet I dare affirm
The Victory had been ours but for Thersander,
Who like the impetuous Sea oppos'd by Land,
Made breaches and o'reflow'd all that lay near it.

Ism.
I had reveng'd you on the King of Scythia,
Had his arrival not prevented me.

Cleo.
He is brave, without dispute.

Ism.
And 'tis as certain that he did surprise me,
Without permitting time for my defence,
He had not else so soon dismounted me;
But, Madam, I design (if you approve it)
To fight Thersander in a single Combat.

Arta.
That Justice I may hope as well as you;
He kill'd my Nephew, young Philemon,
For which I'le be reveng'd.

Queen.
I cannot but commend that noble ardor
That carries you to these designs of glory;
What thinks my Brother of it?

Hon.
I like it, if the Victor will accept it.

Cleo.
And so do I;
And that we may do equal justice to you all,
We'll write Thersander's name,
And he who draws that name shall fight the Combat.

Hon.
But are you sure he will accept the offer?

Ism.
I dare engage he will.

Cleo.
I am of your opinion;
The truly Brave are never proud of Conquest.
I'le write his name my self.

Enter Page.
Hon.
What Shouts are these?

[A shout without.
Page.
Madam, Clemanthis is arriv'd.

Queen.
The news is welcome.

Enter Thers. kneels, kisses the Queens hand; the same to Cleomena.—salutes all.
Thers.
Madam, the great necessity which made me leave you—
When I believ'd my self unprofitable,
Could not detain me, when I was assur'd
My Sword could do you service.

Queen.
This visit recompences all our loss,
You've made it in a time you may redeem
The opinion your absence almost forfeited.

Hon.
Sir, I could chide you too, but that your sight
Changes my Anger into kinder Welcomes.

Thers.
I ought to suffer, Sir, in your opinion,
Till my excuses may redeem my credit.

Cleo.
How great at once, and innocent he seems,
And how his Eyes his past offence redeems!
Whilst all my cruelties they seem t' upbraid,
They pardon too the faults themselves have made.

Queen.
I'm satisfi'd, and you are fitly come
To share a danger we are now disputing.

Thers.
'Tis not the danger, Madam, can divert me
From enterprizing ought that is to serve you.

Arta.
Madam, consider who we are,
And ought not to be rank'd with one below us.

Thers.
Your honour, Artabazes, is too nice;
Would we could find in this dispute, whate'er it be,
That were the greatest difficulty:
—Madam, name your Commands.

Queen.
We are drawing of a Lot
To fight Thersander in a single Combat.

Thers.
Hah—Thersander, Madam, is a Conquerour.

Ism.
Since you're so nice, we will excuse you, Sir.

Thers.
What an unlucky accident was this!
One moments longer stay had made me happy,
[Aside.
And rendred up these Rivals to my power.

Hon.
Come, Sir, the Lots are ready.

[They draw Lots. It falls to Thers.
Thers.
My fears are all compleated,—
[Aside.
The Lot is mine.

Cleo.
Clemanthis, I'm so sensible of the danger
[Aside to him.
Whereto you must expose your self for me,
I cannot think with pleasure on the Victory
You possibly may gain.

Thers.
Encourag'd thus, I cannot fail of Conquest:
[Bows to her, and speaks low.
But, Madam, if Thersander be as nice
[Turns to the Queen.
As these two Princes are, it will be hard
To get him to accept a Challenge from me.

Cleo.
Clemanthis deeds has rais'd his fame too high
To be esteem'd unworthy of that Justice;
Nor can we find the Scythian Prince a Foe
More equal to his youth and valour too.

Thers.
If Fortune bless me with success to day,
I'll owe it to your Cause, and not my Sword.

Queen.
May'st thou be ever Victor.

[They lead him out.
Manent Arta. Ism.
Arta.
My Art shall fail me then.

Ism.
You are displeased, Sir.

Arta.
Is that a wonder?
Who can be tame and see an unknown Youth,
Who brings no forces but his single Arm,
Ravish the hope and spoil of Victory from us,
And rival us in Love as well as Glory,
Whilst all our Claims to Cleomena's heart,
Must be neglected since we want success?

Ism.
We could pretend to her no other way.

Arta.
Have you, or I, less virtue than Clemanthis?

Ism.
Yes, if we envy at his merits.

Arta.
Pursue your vertuous Road, and in the end
See whether you or I reaches first the Goal.
I'll take revenge.

[Arta. exit.
Ism.
I honour will pursue,
A Path which never led me to Repentance:
—Clemanthis, if thy life I basely sought,
Like him, I'de save the hazard of my own;
But as thou't brave, so thou shalt bravely fall
Before Thersander rob me of thy life,
Or thou the fortune hast to vanquish him—
—And if in this encounter I expire,
I do but fall a Victime to an hopeless Fire.

[Exit.
Scene changes to the Wood, discovers Thers. and Amin. among the Trees, changing Clothes; after which they come forth.
Thers.
So, now thou dost appear so like Clemanthis,
That not a Dacian but will be mistaken in thee.

Amin.
My Lord, I know not how I may appear,
But I am ignorant how I am to act.

Thers.
Remain within the Covert of this Wood,
Until the sign be given for the Combate,
And then appear upon the place appointed,
Where I will meet and fight with thee;
But so I'll order all the blows I give,
They shall not wound nor hurt thee,
For still remember I must be the Victor.

Amin.
I will endeavour to perform it so,
[Noise.
That none shall know the fallacy.

Thers.
Be gone, I hear a noise; farewel, dear Amintas,
Remember that you act Clemanthis well.
[Exit Thers.

Enter some Fellows in Cloaks.
1 Fell.

That's he that goes into the Wood, I know him by his Plume; are ye
all ready?

2 Fell.

Yes, for a greater Murder than the killing of a single man; and here's a
place as fit as we could wish: shall we set upon him all together?

1 Fell.

Ay, ay, neatness in this affair is not required; kill him, and Artabazes
desires no more.

The Fellows go behind the Trees, they fight, Amintas falls:
Enter Ismenis.
Ism.
Into this Wood he went, as if he knew my business;
Here we unseen may end the difference—
[Noise within.
—Hark—What noise of fighting's that?
Perhaps my aid's required.

Ism. goes in, Scene draws open, discovers Amintas lying as dead all bloudy, Pimante peeping, Ismenes re-enters.
Ism.
It is Clemanthis, and this barbarous deed
Is done by Artabazes.

Enter Pimante.
Pim.

Had ever Cavalier such damn'd luck? I have heard it disputed, that this
same danger was to be courted by the Brave and Bold; but I, who took the best
care I could whilst the fight lasted to secure my self by this retreat, find my self
even here surrounded with it; and poor Clemanthis, who, I'll warrant, came too
with my design, has met here what he endeavoured to shun: yonder's Ismenis too—
well, we are all but men.

Ism.
Here's yet some breath remaining, oh Pimante lend thy assistance.
—Clemanthis, if thou yet hast so much sense,
Inform us how thou cam'st thus wounded?

Amin.
Know Sir, Thersander—Prince of Scythia—
—Thersander—Prince of—Scythia—

[Faints.
Pim.
Alas he's dead, Sir, trouble him no further.

Ism.
The Prince of Scythia do this!

Pim.

Ay, ay, this mighty Prince, fearing to encounter a single man, has set a
dozen to kill him; mercy upon us, 'twas a bloudy fight: but, Sir, what shall we
do with the Body?

Ism.
If I could command thee any thing, it should be Silence,
Till I have met Thersander in his room.

[Ism. exit.
Pim.
You shall command me, though I was never good at secrets.

Enter Cleomena, Semiris.
Cleo.
Let the Coach wait at the entrance of the Wood:
I find I am a perfect Woman now,
And have my fears, and fits of Cowardise.

Sem.
Madam, will you not see the Combat then?

Cleo.
I dare not, something here assures me
Clemanthis will be conquered.

Pim.

Ha! the Princess here? on my Conscience there was never mischief but
a Woman was at one hand on't.

Sem.
How now, Pimante, why do you look so scurvily?

Pim.
Ah, Madam, such a sight so dismal and bloudy!

Cleo.
What says he?

Pim.
Clemanthis, Madam—

Cleo.
Clemanthis! oh what of him?
Why my prophetick heart dost thou betray me?

Sem.
For Heavens sake, Madam, reassume your courage.

Cleo.
Yes—I will hear—the fatal story—out.

Pim.

Truth is, Madam, to retire from the fury and noise of the Battle, I came into
this Wood and when I thought all danger past, I heard even here the noise of Swords
and fighting; which endeavouring to avoid, I fell almost into the danger of them.

Sem.
Leave out the History of your own Fears, and come to the business.

Pim.
But ah, Madam, unseen I saw: who did I see—
Ah, who should I see but Clemanthis, Madam;
Fixt with his back against yon Cypress-tree,
Defending of himself against a dozen Murderers.
I was, alas, too weak to take the weaker side,
And therefore came not forth to his assistance.
Prince Ismenis would have taken his part, but came too late too;
But e'er he died we begg'd to know his Murderers,
And he could answer nothing but—Thersander.

Cleo.
Remove me to the Body of my Love—
[They lead her to Amin. who lies wounded: she gazes on him a while, his Face being all bloudy.
—I will not now deplore as Women use,
But call up all my Vengeance to my aid,
Expect not so much imbecility—
From her whose Love nor Courage was made known
Sufficiently to thee, oh my Clemanthis!
I would not now survive thee,
Were it not weak and cowardly to die,
And leave thee unrevenged:
—Be calm, my Eyes, and let my Soul supplie ye;
A silent broken Heart must be his Sacrifice:
Ev'ry indifferent sorrow claims our Tears,
Mine do require Bloud, and 'tis with that
These must be washt away—
[Rises, wipes her Eyes.
Whatever I design to execute,
Pimante, and Semiris, I conjure ye,
Go not about to hinder, but be silent,
Or I will send this Dagger to my Heart,
Remove the Body further into th' Wood,
And strip it of these glittering Ornaments;
And let me personate this dear dead Prince:
Obey, and dress me streight, without reply.
There is not far from hence a Druids Cell,
A man for Piety and knowledge famous,
Thither convey the breathless Sacred Corpse,
Laid gently in my Chariot,
There to be kept conceal'd till further Orders.

Sem.
Ah, Madam, what is't you intend to do?

Cleo.
What should I do but die—ah do not weep,
But haste to do as I commanded ye:
Haste, haste, the time and my revenge requires it.

Sem.
For Heavens sake, Madam, for your Royal self,
Do not pursue this cruel fatal Enterprize;
Pity the Queen, your Servants, and all Mankind.

Cleo.
Away thou feeble thing that never knewst the real joys of Love,
Or ever heard of any grief like mine;
If thou would'st give me proofs of thy esteem,
Forget all Words, all Language, but Revenge!
Let me not see so much of Woman in thee
To shed one Tear, but dress thy Eyes with fierceness,
And send me forth to meet my Love, as gay,
As if intended for my nuptial day.
That Soul that sighs in pity of my Fate,
Shall meet returns of my extreamest hate:
Pity with my Revenge must find no room;
I'll bury all but Rage within thy Toomb.

[Exeunt.