University of Virginia Library

Scene the Last

The Scene opened, Mariamne appears laid on a Couch as Beheaded.
Enter Alexandra.
Alexan.
So much Confusion I meet every where,
I have no doubt for my increasing fear.
See there's the Cause. Alas! this dismal sight
O'rewhelms my sence with horrours dark as Night.
Nature's too strong,
And keeps my Soul in Prison here too long.
But I will give no Rest to my sad mind,
Till I a way to Death, or Vengeance find.
Tyrant, at thee, my just revenge shall fly;
And then contented with my Fate, I'le dye.

[Exit.
Enter Tyridates and Arsanes.
Tyrid.
See where she lyes Arsanes! see she's dead!
And my enfeebled Soul is with her fled.
Here I my grief will forfeit at the Eye,
And gazing thus upon this Object, dye.
I feel the little blaze of Life decrease,
And yet my mind enjoys no kind of Peace.
I would have time
With my own hands to tear his heart away,
Who could such Innocence to Death betray.
But ah my Soul is flutt'ring to be gone,
And leaves Revenge to the just Gods alone.

Arsa.
Oh Sir, your Courage should support you now.

Tyrid.
My Life Arsanes to the Queen is due.
Was't not enough, (Oh aggravating thought!)
That the Queen dyed, and dyed too by my fault!
I caus'd the Cruelties she did sustain;
After all this, can I behind remain?
No, I would strike a Dagger to my heart,
Had not my kinder grief perform'd that part:
My juster sorrow sudden death affords,
Without the help of Poyson, Wound, or Swords:
Arsanes help, remains of Life are small:
At my ador'd Queens feet direct my fall.

Arsan.
Shall grief thus overcome?

Tyrid.
O yes, I find
Deaths kind embraces all my sences bind.
The world turns round, and by degrees I gain
A kind of Resurrection from my pain.
Farewell my kind Arsanes.

Arsan.
Oh Sir stay.

Tyrid.
Accept dead Queen, this Homage which I pay.
At my approach be not offended now,
The strictest Vertue may this grace allow:
Thy Vow to Herod's Cancel'd here, and I
Now gain that Bliss you did in Life deny,
And we may now come nearer when we dye.

Enter Herod with a Dagger in his hand.
Herod.
Where is the Queen! Oh she is dead; she's dead—
Thou lyest—it can't be—yet from me she's fled.
See there she lyes, Murder'd by my Command;
Here I alive, her Bloody Husband stand.

Tyrid.
Thanks my kind heart! my blood new Vitals takes;
Rows'd by that form my drooping Spirit wakes.

[draws.
Herod.
Ha! Tyridates!

[draws.
Tyrid.
Tyrant, art thou here?

Herod.
Usurper, how darest thou invade this place?
If Life thou lovest, take hence thy hated face.
So great a Passion none but she e're gave:
I'm Jealous of that Beauty in her Grave.

Tyrid.
Monster, when by my hand thy blood is spilt,
To meet Damnation equal to thy Guilt;
At that blest minute thy black Soul shall flye,
May Heaven but hate thee half so much as I.

Herod.
Have at thy heart, thy fury I defy.
Two fiercer Foes, Fate on one Stage can't bring;
A desp'rate Lover, and a Rival King.

[They make a full Pass, and both fall; Tyridates at Mariamnes feet.
Tyrid.
Revenge, thou'st done thy part, now Love go on;
And finish what Mariamnes Eyes begun.
Though it grows dark, my Ghost shall rove about,
And never stop till it has found thine out.
To do thee Homage, when in Heaven we meet,
There as on Earth I'le fall before thy feet.

[dyes,
Herod.
Ha! into what Confusion am I hurl'd,
Hee'l be my Rival in the other World.
If Souls can fight, I thee to Battle dare,
And mine shall hence only to meet thine there.
As my blood cooles, my frighted sence looks home
On my past deeds, and what I have to come.
Here stand my Crimes, and there Eternity;
Men take the largest prospect when they dye.
Just Souls may mount, but mine I fear descends,
There Love, there Jealousy, here Tyrant ends.

[Dyes.
Arsa.
A Roman Courage in my breast I find,
And a disdainful scorn to stay behind:
But I must live in kindness to thy name,
And keep my hated life to speak thy same.

[Exit.
Enter Salome.
Salom.
[Stabs her self.
Enter Sosius, Pheroras, Arsanes, and Attendants.
[falls.

[dyes.
Sosius.
Come let us from this dismal place be gon,
Where Cruelty and Love so much have done.

Pheroras.
Love, Jealousy, and Spight, conspir'd thy fall:
But thou, great Queen, hast over-come them all.
Faire Innocence, how e're supprest, will rise;
And Vertue, though she suffers, never dyes.

Exeunt Omnes.