University of Virginia Library

The Fifth ACT.

The SCENE, Babylon.
Enter Eumenes, Lysimachus, Ptolomy, Thalestris, Amazons, and Soldiers.
Eume.
The City's won, and none left to oppose,
Within the Palace Walls, are all our Foes.

Lysi.
In vain, in vain, have we a Conquest made,
The cruel Gods, have all our hopes betray'd,
And with them, all, our Earthly Joys, are fled,
The Queen, and her fair Sister too, are dead.
This is the news, which like a deadly Dart,
Now pierc'd my Ears, and struck me through the Heart.

Thal.
Why did the Gods, such Heavenly forms Create,
And joyn, with so much Beauty, so ill Fate?
They give us cause, their Godheads to blasphem.

Eume.
The ways of Providence, do Riddles seem,
And are, like various Fancys, in a Dream,
'Tis past our skill, to find the Sence of them.
Their Murtherers, let's with Revenge, pursue,
The Gods, will aid us, when their works we do.

Ptol.
Yes, brave Eumenes, we will first Revenge
Their Death, and then the Scene of Life I'll change.

Lysi.
Since Love, could not our Friendships knot unty,
We will both perfect Friends, and Lovers dye.

[Embrace.
Ptol.
Death shan't have pow'er, our Souls to disunite,
For both, shall hence, together take their flight,
And since our Body's, here the difference make,
Our Souls below, shall but one shaddow take.

Lysi.
Come, my dear Friend, let us about it strait.
Draw up the Army, to the Palace Gate,
To the Soldiers.
Let it with all our Troops, be compast round,
And then with Ramms, o'rethrow it to the Ground.

Exeunt Omnes.
The SCENE, The Palace Royal in Babylon.
Enter Roxana with Hesione.
Roxa.
My Soul, is with too great a load opprest,
My Eyes can find no sleep, my Mind no rest,
For my designes, will all Successless prove
If I can't make, the Scythian Prince, to Love.
I'ave sav'd his Life, with hazard of my own,
And disoblig'd those, who should guard my Throne.

Hesi.
Time, only can, his Rebel Heart subdue,
Extinguish his old Flame, and kindle new.
All your perfections, he will then admire,
And in his Breast, feel a new Amorous fire.

Roxa.
Statira, still in his great Heart, does live,
I doubt, he never, will her Death forgive.

Hesi.
Time, does on all, a blest oblivion shed,
Which takes away, the memory of the dead,
On grieving Souls, it by degrees does creep,
And does surprize insensibly, as sleep.
Nature, at last, must tyr'd, and weary grow,
The highest Tydes, of grief, still ebb most low.

Roxa.
I can't, with so long expectation, wait,
Let Love, and Time, like slaves, attend my State,
I must and will have satisfaction strait.
When the whole East, submits to my Command,
Shall he alone, my Will, and pow'er withstand?
[shouts within.
Hark—hark—what shouts are those, so loud?

Hesi.
They're shouts of Joy, and of a Multitude.

[Shout again.
Rox.
What can this mean!—It does my Soul affright,
The Babylonians, are grown mad, to night.

Enter an Officer of Roxana's Guards.
Offi.
Madam the City's taken, and your Foes
Have routed all, who durst their force oppose.

Roxa.
The City taken!—you'ave neglectful been.

Offi.
'Twas not Neglect, but Treason let them in.
They enter'd, at Semiramises Gate,
Where none oppos'd them, till it was too late.
Thence, like a Torrent, they the City fill'd,
And all, who did oppose them, easily kill'd.
With eager shouts, a Squadron, this way made,
Your Guards, and Royal Palace, to invade:
Your routed Soldiers, wheresoe're they fly,
For Perdicas, and for Cassander cry.

Roxa.
Hast—away—to your Captain run, with speed,
And let Cassander, from restraint, be freed.

Offi.
—I fear, 'tis now too late,
The Foes, by this are at the Palace Gate.

Rox.
Be gone—tell me not of your fears, but fly,
Effect, what I command you strait, or dye.
[Exit Officer.
I know not which way, my hard Fate, to shun.
Ah! cruel Fate! how can this loss be born!
And how shall I endure, Orontes scorn!

Hesi.
I hope the Gods, will yet, some pity show,
With patience wait, their Wills you soon will know.

Roxa.
Their Wills, they in my ruine, have made known,
But I'll not stoop to theirs, but to my own:
For since they will, I shall be quite undone,
I'll will it too, and on my Fate, will run.
My Death, shall be th'effect, of my own will,
For first Orontes, then my self I'le kill:
I then in dying, shall some pleasure find,
To leave Orontes dead, will please my mind:
Perhaps his Ghost, below, may prove more kind
If not, I'le there, his fierce tormenter prove,
Eternally, I'le kill him, with my Love.

Enter Officer and Soldiers.
Offi.
Cassander is set free, but will not fight,
He seems, to hear, our dangers, with delight,
And said, the Gods, reveng'd his wrongs, this Night.
After some pause, a few choice men, he took,
And suddenly enrag'd, the place forsook.
But muttering as he went, I heard him cry,
I will my Rival kill, before I dye.

Roxa.
O Gods! I must this wretches pow'er controul:
With this, I'll first let out, his trecherous Soul.
Snatches a Javelin from the Officer.
Under a tottering Tower, I seem to stand,
And would uphold it, with my feeble hand,
I see it shake, and know, at last, 'twill fall,
And, with its Ruines, overwhelm us all.
But like my self, a brave great Queen I'le dye,
Whilst, with my Fate opprest, dead Princes round me lye.

[Exeunt.
Enter Perdicas with Sword in his Hand.
Perd.
Horrid Confusion, reignes in every place,
And all things now, look with a dreadful face:
In this confusion, I my freedom gain,
But Oh! my Soul, is tortur'd still, with pain,
The curst Roxana, has Statira slain.
I now am come, to set my Rival free,
In her Revenge we shall like friends agree.

[Scene opens, and discovers Orontes.
Oron.
Again disturb'd!—what, Perdicas, are you
Come, to dispatch, your hated Rival too?
Make hast—but first, this satisfaction give,
Tell me, ah tell me, does Statira live?

Perd.
She's gon—she's gon—she's vanisht from our sight,
The curst Cassander, put out all her light,
And those fair eyes, which shone, than Day, more bright,
By Death Ecclips'd, are hid in shades of Night.

Oron.
Here—Pierce my Breast, and with a welcom blow,
At last, some Kindness, to your Rival show.

[Opening his Arms.
Perd.
Statira's death, puts to our strife, an end,
You not my Rival, now may be my Friend.
Take this—
[Gives him a Sword.
From my restraint, I, but just now, got free,
First hither ran, to give you Libertie,
That we the Scenes of War, Blood, Death, might change,
And, on her Foes, Statira's Death revenge.

Oron.
Tho I, from hated Life, would fly away,
A brave, and just Revenge, invites my stay,
The Gods, and you, have arm'd my hand, once more,
I swear, by her blest Shade, I still adore,
I will revenge her Death—
Enter Cassander and Soldiers.
—The Monster see.—

Cass.
What! Perdicas releast!
And is Orontes too, of Arms possest!

Oron.
Thou most accurs'd of humane Kind—

Cassander and Soldiers fight with Orontes and Perdicas, Cassander falls wounded by Orontes.
Enter Roxana, hastily followed by Hesione, Officers and Soldiers. Roxana wounds Orontes with a Spear, the Soldiers are beat off the Stage by Perdicas and Roxana's Soldiers
Roxa.
Oh Gods! What have I done!—
Thus humbly prostrate, to my Prince, I bow,
Kneels, and about to Embrace the Knees of Oront. he steps back.
My Soul, has given, all Empire up, to you,
And my proud Heart, great Love, has conquer'd now.

Oron.
Touch me not Tygress, with those guilty Hands,
Honour forbids, what passion now Commands,
Else by Cassander, bleeding you should lye,
And your Curst Souls, to Hell together fly.

Cass.
Fate here has thrown me, as a useless thing,
Wounded, and bleeding, here, in pain, I lye,
I have not strength to fight, nor wound enough to dye.
Death, has no pain, like that, which now I feel,
Seeing the great, and proud Roxana Kneel,
Poor spirited Woman, can'st thou be so mean,
To stoop, below the grandure, of a Queen?
Thy noble Pride, did first, my Love beget,
Oh! let it like the Sun, in Glory set,
As he, with setting Beams, makes red the air,
In spite of Clouds, which angry Gods prepare,
Let your proud Heart, be throughly understood,
Look gay in Death, and falling set in Blood.
Dye whilst a Queen,—Play an Heroick part,
First, with a Sword, pierce his rebellious Heart,
[Pointing to Oront.
Then, rush on Death's inevitable shelf,
Kindly kill me, and bravely stab thy self.

Roxa.
Tho Love has forc'd my mighty Heart, to sue,
I yet have pride, and scorn enough for you.
[To Cass.
Bear him from hence—

Cass.
False Queen—when I'ave Death's frozen passage crost,
I will return, to haunt thee, with my Ghost.

[Exit carried forth by Soldiers.
Perd.
Keep in, a while, his Lifes expiring flame,
Till Death approach him, with a greater shame.

Oron.
Come, let us to our fighting Friends repair,
And seek a Death, which will be welcom there,
I, with my Breast, will catch some flying Dart,
And give't, an easie passage, to my Heart.

[Exeunt Oront. and Perd.
Roxa.
He's gone, and left me, like a wretch, with scorn,
Fallen, from my greatness, wretched and forlorn.
In Babylon, I never will be seen,
Below the glorious title of a Queen.
I then must dye—
Dye, e're I have, all signs of Empire, lost,
Dye, e're I all my Misery understand,
Dye, whilst I may have Death, at my Command.

[Draws out a Dagger.
Enter Messenger.
Mess.
The Enemie's into the Palace got.

Roxa.
Slave, let me dye, a Queen, in all my Pride,
As once the great Assyrian Monarch dy'd.
Go—Burn the Palace, set it strait on fire,
Encompast round, with Flames, I'le here expire,
All my rich Treasure, and my Jewels burn,
And this great pyle, with me, to Ashes turn,
I'le dye enthron'd—the Palace be my Urn.
Slave art thou here—Why is not all this done?
Am I not yet a Queen—haste and be gone.
Goes to strike him with the Dagger. Exit Officer.
But oh! my Heart, I feel a shivering fear,
I cannot dye, and leave Orontes here;
What satisfaction, should I now receive,
Could I once more behold him, while I live,
For one last look, an Empire I would give.

Enter Orontes, Perdicas, Lysimachus, Ptolomy, Eumenes, Thalestris, Amazons and Soldiers.
Lysi.
The Babylonians, when they understood
Roxana's cruel Act, their Arms flung by,
And now for Justice, on the Murth'rers, Cry.

Ptol.
Those who oppos'd, and were our foes before,
With one consent, their dear Queen's death deplore,
They now in heaps, before the Palace croud,
And for Revenge, and Justice cry aloud.

Perd.
And Justice they shall have—seize that false Queen

Roxa.
Slaves keep your distance—see, Death stands between.
[Holds forth her Dagger to the Soldiers.
I scorn my Fate, within your Pow'r should lye,
I both the Power of Men, and Gods defy,
I'le use my own, when I am pleas'd to dye.

Oron.
Let her own guilty Hands, her Life pursue,
The Gods, by them, will on her Justice do.

Perd.
Oh! barbarous Queen, you did your self deceive,
You thought, there were no Gods, or did believe,
They were not just, but they, at last, have sent
Me, from your Bonds, to give you punishment.

Roxa.
If Death, be the great punishment, you mean,
You threaten, what with Prayers, I would obtain,
You could, to me, no greater Torment, give,
Than to permit me, without Hope, to live.
Death is the Blessing, which I wish for most,
Now I'ave Orontes, and my Empire lost.

Oron.
The just Gods, think a Crown, for such unfit,
Who seek by horrid Crimes, to purchase it.

Roxa.
The Crimes, I did commit, the Gods above
Will easily Pardon, because Crimes of Love.
To kill a Rival, I account no sin,
And I would do't, were it to do ag'in,
It does, with such delight, my Mind possess,
The Pleasures of a Crown, would please me less.
She would have giv'n, more tortures, to my Mind,
Liv'd she; than I shall now, in Dying find.
In Death, alas! no bitterness would be,
But that, I find, I still am scorn'd by thee.

Perd.
The Gods, did long, their Vengeance, keep in store,
And now, on your Curs'd Head, their Thunderbolts, they pour.

Roxa.
I scorn, my Mouth, should my great Heart, belye,
I both Man-kind, and th' unkind Gods defye,
And tho with Plagues, they still should me pursue,
They never, shall my 'unconquer'd Heart, subdue:
Thus—not the Gods, but my own Sacrifice
[Lifting up the Dagger.
I'le fall—I must take Courage from those Eyes,
[Pausing and looking on Orontes.
I'le take one farewel-Look, before I dye,
One more, and I'le, for ever, from you fly.

Perd.
Your Wound still bleeds—

Oron.
'Tis slight—I must, a greater wound, prepare.
The World shall see, the Pow'r of Death, too weak,
The Joys of my Immortal Love to break.
I, to my Love, have made a solemn Vow,
By all the Gods, I will perform it now.

[Draws forth a Dagger.
Lysi.
Brave Prince, we Rivals too, have Vow'd the same,

Ptol.
Our Souls possess, the like immortal flame.

Roxa.
Ah! will Orontes dye—New Joys I feel,
I'le stay, and watch my Princes fatal blow,
Then in my Breast, I'le plunge my Dagger too,
And, at one instant, both our Souls, shall start,
Together, both, from our dull Bodies, part,
And if a Spirit, can a Spirit hold,
I will his Soul, within my Soul infold.

Perd.
The dreadful face of Death, I'ave oft beheld,
In all her shapes, I'ave seen her, in the field,
There's none will think, that now I shrink for fear,
Or that I'de fly, tho many Deaths appear.
A vain, fantastick place, Elysium seems,
But you believe—
The Tales of Priests, and idle Poets dreams.
The Queen's Death, I'le revenge, then Altars rear,
To her great Name, make her a Goddess, here,
Whilst you, vain Blisses seek, you know not where.

Oron.
Statira gone, I nothing here can find,
Which can give ease to my disturbed mind.
You gentle Ghosts, look down from Heav'n above,
And see th' Effects of true, and faithful Love.

Lysi.
With you, Dear Souls, our Bliss, and Joys are fled,
It is no Life, to Live, now you are dead.

Ptol.
Our Souls, and theirs, through Love, were so much one,
Ours cannot stay behind, when theirs are gone.

Oron.
After our Loves, to that blest place, wee'l go,
Where Love's immortal, and no change, does know,
Where Rivals cannot, our long bliss destroy,
And where we undisturb'd, each other shall enjoy.

Enter the Mute.
Arax.
Ah! Sir, does this black Mask, disguise me so,
You can't, your own faithful Araxis, know?

Oron.
Araxis!—
I can't Araxis find, in this disguise.
Let me embrace you, e're I dye—
[Embraces him.
Ah! this has been a sad, and fatal Night.

Arax.
The Day appears, with clear, and chearful Light.

Oron.
About my Heart, a Night of sorrow lyes.

Arax.
You will find Day, in your Statira's Eyes.

Enter Capt. with Statira, Parisatis, Cleone.
Oron.
I, with the weight, of my own Joys, am prest,
They cannot be contain'd, within my Breast?
Do I but Dream, or am I truly blest.

Roxa.
O Gods! I am betray'd—my Rival's here,
Worse, than a thousand Deaths, she does appear.
Death, which before, I look'd on, with content,
Will now my torture be, and punishment.
What can my Torment, and my pain express?
Orontes, and my Crown, she will possess.

Stat.
I live, my Prince,—by your Araxis care.

Arax.
And by th'Assistance, of this Captain, here,
presenting the Captain to Orontes, they Embrace.
He me disguis'd, feign'd me a Mute, and Slave,
And me, a present, to Cassander gave.

Roxa.
Gods! was I thus betray'd!—

Arax.
The Gods were kind—
And wrought by me, more than I had design'd.
They first made known, Roxana's vile intent,
And made me then, an happy Instrument,
The Queens most horrid Murther, to prevent.

Stat.
We went to dye, but 'twas no small surprize,
To find Araxis, in this black disguise,
By his contrivance, we our Foes deceiv'd,
For what, they much desir'd, they soon believ'd,
We strangl'd, dead, and vail'd appear'd, in view,
Till, from the place, our cruel Foes withdrew:
Thus, the kind Gods, their wickedness withstood,
And sav'd the Reliques, of Darius Blood.

In the mean time Lysimachus and Ptolomy Court Parisatis in dumb shew.
Oron.
Divine Statira, you're so great a prize,
For you, the whole World's Empire I'de despise:
The Persian Crown's, to me, of small esteem,
Compar'd, to this unvaluable Gemm:
[kissing her Hand.
Upon your brow, the Scythian Crown shall shine,
And, at your feet, I prostrate all that's mine.

Roxa.
'Tis time to dye—their bliss I cannot see,
Hell—tortures—and confusion follow me:
Harpies, my Soul, with cruel Tallons tear,
She can, no longer, the sad torment bear:
Thus I will set her free—she cannot know
[Stabbs her self.
A greater Torment, nor more pains below,
To a worse Hell than this, she cannot go.

Stat.
Rescue her life—Let her repenting Live,
It is my Glory, that I can forgive.

As she goes to repeat the blow, the Soldiers seize her.
Roxa.
Ye cruel Gods, who thus my will oppose,
Who thus Enslave me, to my mortal Foes,
And make my imperious Heart, to stoop to them,
Whilst Life remains, I'le curse you, and Blasphem.
But ah! I hope, my Soul's, from Prison free'd,
I feel Life gently sliding hence—I bleed—
What thick dark fog is this, before my Eyes?
So—now my Soul, to unknown Regions flyes.
Where is my Love—see—yonder—where he rests,
Come, use the softer Pillow, of my Breasts:
Here thou mayst sleep, secure from Rivals harmes,
Whilst, I enclose thee gently, in mine Armes.
Now undisturb'd, wee'l tast immortal blisses,
I'le hush thee fast with sighes, then wake thee with my kisses.

Stat.
She raves—she raves—and from her sense is gon.

Roxa.
Oh! my sick Heart—I shall be well anon.
Where is Orontes?—set me on my Throne,
From Babylon, I know I'm wander'd far,
Yet I'm a Queen, my Kingdom is a Star:
Go fetch that Rebel—bring him to my feet,
I'le make, at last, his stubborn heart submit.
Let half my starry Kingdom, down be hurl'd,
And overwhelm his little Earthly World.

Stat.
Remove her hence—Thus Gods their Judgment show,
That poor ambitious Mortals, here may know,
They sit above, and see, and govern all below.

Roxana is carried off the Stage Raveing.
Perd.
See here, another Wretch, that's forc'd to sue,
For Justice, to the Gods, and greater you.
Madam, I Love, and grow distracted too.
Thus lowly, Madam, I fall down before
[Kneels.
The beauteous Image, which I still adore.
Condemn me strait to dye, and mercy shew,
Life will be worse than Death, if I loose you.

Stat.
No Perdicas, you must not dye—
All your offences, I do now forgive:
I wish, I could assoon, your grief remove,
I can, my pity grant you, tho not Love.

Perd.
Your pity, Madam, cannot ease my Grief,
And to the wounds of Love, gives small relief.

Stat.
Well Perdicas, I'le give my Friendship too,
All but my self, I will bestow on you.
I'le with you share, my Empire, and my Throne,
If that's too little, wear my Crown alone.

Perd.
I want no Crowns, my Armes, can them subdue,
Nor sought I, for your Empire, but for you.

Oron.
There's nothing, Sir, that I esteem above
Your noble Friendship, but Statira's Love:
I for the Queen, not for her Empire, strove.

Perd.
Half the World's Realms, this, did already win,
puts his Hand to his Sword.
And when I please, can Conquer'um o're ag'in.
For Empire, let th'ambitious sue to Jove,
Nothing can satisfie my Soul, but Love.

Stat.
All the rich Treasure, Alexander left,
That Princely Robber's, not inglorious Theft,
To buy your friendship, I will freely give,
Let me in peace, with my Orontes Live.

Perd.
Go bait the Covetous, with such sordid pelf,
I'le not accept a World, without your self.

Oron.
Since you to be my Foe, are still inclin'd,
You shall Orontes, still Orontes find;
From all the World, I can my Queen defend,
And thus, to our debate, shall put an End:
Lays hold on his Sword.
Dye then, my Rival, or else live my Friend.

Perd.
Gods! am I threatn'd?—

Lays hold on his Sword, Statira stops him.
Stat.
Ah! Perdicas—Shew me some proofs of Love:
All Cause of Quarrel, with your self remove.

Perd.
Shew me the path, in which you'd have me tread,
I'le follow it, tho it to Hell should lead.
What would you have me do?—

Stat.
—Still think me dead.
Do, what you did resolve, to do, before,
When you did never think, to see me more.
You'ave seen the sad Effects, of Lawless Love,
Let Virtue, his Tyrannic sway remove.
Th' other half World, go Conquer with your Sword,
War, will diversion give, or cure afford.

Perd.
Madam, I'le try, to' obey your strict Command,
But here I Vow, at th' Altar of your Hand,
[Kisses her Hand.
Whilst the Gods grant me Life, I ever will
Honour, Respect, Love, and adore you still.
To Arms—to Arms,
Till my unquiet, restless Life shall cease,
The World, like me, shall never be in peace.
Madam farewel—
—I don't your threatnings fear,
[Turning to Orontes.
I'le go to Scythia, if not meet you here.

[Exit.
Lysi.
Thus humbly prostrate before you we fall,
[Lysi. and Ptol. kneeling to Parisatis.
You are our Judg, and on your gentle Breath,
Depends the Sentence, of our Life, and Death.

Ptol.
Madam to you, we now for Judgment fly,
Say which of us must Live, and which must dye.
Love cann't permit, two Rivals in one Throne,
He is a Monarch, and must reign alone.
Our Love, and friendship in this both agree
To own your Sentence just, what e're it be.

Pari.
Rise Noble Friends—I will impartial be,
[She makes them rise.
I cannot grant, what you now ask of me.
Your Equal Virtues, so my Heart divide,
I cannot now, your friendly strife decide.
I should be, unjust—
To Murther one, whilst I the other save:
Since if I one accept, I th' other lose,
I will be just to both, and both refuse.

Lysi.
In choosing one, you will some Mercy show,
But you will both destroy, in doing so,
Destroying both, you Cruelty express,
In saving one of us, you shew much less.

Ptol.
Madam, since both, cannot your Love enjoy,
Let not our Friendship, our great Bliss destroy:
For tho we both, thus for your Love contend,
Each, is at once, a Rival, and a Friend.
In choosing one, you one of us Redeem,
Refusing both, you both to Death Condemn.

Pari.
In both of you, I, a rare Friendship see,
Love has not power, to make you disagree,
You both have been, so noble, and so brave,
And both such Equal Love, and Merits have,
That it would be, an unjust thing, in me,
To give to one, the Palm of Victorie.
Therefore brave friends—
I'de rather be thought Cruel, than unjust.

Lysi.
Since our fair Princess, won't our cause decide,
Our Quarrel must, at last, by Armes be try'd.
turning to Ptolomy.
Our sacred friendship, must not be above,
The higher, and more sacred pow'er, of Love.

Pari.
Live still brave friends, as friendly as you did,
Still as you were, both friends, and Rivals live,
I now command it—He who disobeys,
Looses my Love, and his own cause betrays.
Let not your Love, your Friendship now divide,
The Gods, and Time, will your kind strife decide,
To them wee'l leave your cause—whilst you agree,
You equal favour, shall receive from me.

Lysi.
Madam, our Fates lye in your pow'rful Hand,
I will obey, what ever you Command.

Ptol.
And I'le endeavour, by obedience too,
To please, tho I shall never merit you.
Rival, and Friend, for so we still must be,
[To Lysi.
Let us Embrace—and like friends still agree.

Lysi.
Love, has most nobly, our high friendship Crown'd.

[Embracing.
Eume.
Madam, in you, lyes my felicity,
Kneeling to Thalestris.
Ah! let me not alone unhappy be.
Let me not only have a cause to mourn,
Whilst you my Love, and Services do scorn.

Oron.
Madam, we all do for Eumenes sue,
None, his high merits, can reward but you.
I hope, you will not, our just sutes delay,
And spoil the Lustre, of this happy day.
We cannot freely, our own Bliss, enjoy,
If you this Prince's happiness destroy.

Thal.
Eumenes rise—I can resist no more,
Takes up Eumenes.
Love made some progress, in my Heart before.
In these brave friends, I such rare virtues find,
Which reconcile me now to Men, and make me kind.
To all my Women, you shall Husbands give,
And wee'l henceforth, like other Nations live,
Henceforth, we will no longer live, alone,
But joyn'd, by Love, make of two Kingdoms one.
We then shall loose, our Monarchy, and Name,
And only Live, by History, and Fame.
So Rivers, having th'row large Kingdoms past,
Loose Name, and Waters, in the Sea, at last:
What Mortal dares, with mighty Love contend,
Who thus can give, to our great Empire, End?

Oron.
Let us, fair Queens, now to the Temple go,
To pay those Vows, which to the Gods, we owe:
Let th' Holy Altars, with bright Incense shine,
And Hecatombs, fall to the Pow'rs Divine:
In Pious Joys, let's loose all sorrows past,
A true, and Virtuous Love, Heav'n Crowns, at last.

The Curtain falls.