University of Virginia Library

Act V.

SCENE The Palace.
An Alarm; Enter Matthias, Phineas, Sagan.
Mat.
All's lost! we are resign'd to Heathen rage.

Sag.
Heav'n in our aid no longer does engage.

Phin.
Have we a shadow twenty Ages chas'd?
Is all our Faith prov'd a vain Dream at last?

Mat.
What shall we say? these things our Reason pose:
The more we think, the more our selves we lose.
Our thoughts we never can in order place;
They dance, like Atoms, in a boundless space.

Sag.
Let's think no more, but make a swift retreat
To some strong place, where during the fierce heat
Of Rage and Slaughter, we may shelter take,
And for our selves at least Conditions make.

Phin.
This Tower where your Daughter keeps, is strong,
And may, with some Provisions, hold out long.

Mat.
Life now is much the least of all my cares;
But of Heav'ns bounty no good man despairs.
Clarona.—

[Clarona appears in the Balcony.]
Clar.
Ha! my Father's voice I hear!
'Tis he! Oh! this disperses all my fear.

Exit.
Mat.
Daughter!—she answers not! Oh! I begin
To tremble! all I fear 's not well within!

[knock.
Enter Clarona.
Clar.
My Father here! I scarce can speak for joy!
I by degrees did all my Guards employ
To seek and aid you; but of all I sent,
Not one return'd; that all my patience spent,
Of Guards forsaken, looking ev'ry hour
For bloudy Foes, and nothing in the Tow'r
But my poor trembling Women here, and I,
I was resolv'd to seek you out, and dye.

Enter Phedra, running.
Phed.
Hast, Sir, the Rebels come; you'l be too late!
I saw 'em from the Tow'r; they're at the Gate!
They're come! I heard the Murd'rers call for you.

Mat.
Pursu'd by Romans, and by Rebels too!
Base wretches! with what danger, guilt and pains,
They purchase Misery, Dishonour, Chains;
Total Destruction! It is fit we dye,
We fight and hinder them of Slavery.

Enter John, and Pharisees.
Joh.
Kill! kill! their Idol's gone: they can repair
No longer to their Parthian Lucifer.

John, Eleazar, &c. force four into the Tower. An Alarm. Enter Matthias, Phineas, Sagan, Clarona, Phedra, pursu'd. Phineas, Sagan, fall dead; Matthias wounded.
Mat.
For this I thank thee; thou hast set me free
From having share in all that misery
Thy wickedness does on thy Country bring.

Joh.
No; the vile Achan, the accursed thing
That made us stink, and all our prayers prove
Offence to Heav'n, we from the Land remove.
Thou, wanton Idol, who our Land has stain'd
With Pagan Love, and all our Race prophan'd,
Shalt perish too.

(Wounds Clarona.
Elea.
By thy allurements led,
That Savage Boar much bloud of Saints has shed.
[An Alarm, and Shout.]
Hark, an Alarm!

(John and Elea. look out.
Joh.
The Roman Troops are near!

Elea.
And Parthian Banners in the Streets appear!

Joh.
I fear that cursed Dragon King is come!
He plagues us more then all the Pow'r of Rome.

Exeunt John, Eleazar, and Pharisees.
Mat.
Oh, Daughter! do you bleed?

Clar.
Too slow I do:
But, Sir, I hope to fall asleep with you.

Mat.
The sight oppresses Nature; but my mind,
Does from thy Piety true comfort find.
Our Temple, Nation, Glory, Faith are gone;
And what wou'dst thou do in the world alone?
When dead, we shall behold within the Scenes,
What this dark Riddle of our destruction means.
I try to sound this depth, but have not Line;
Thick gloomy Mists encompass things Divine:
Poor human understandings they despise;
Vainly proud man endeavours to be wise.
Come, Daughter, follow my Cœlestial part,
Haste to be more an Angel then thou art.

(dies.
Clar.
The Light, the Splendor of our Nation's gone,
A brighter in our Firmament ne're shone.
In this one gallant man does slaughter'd lye
Truth, Wisdom, Valour, Learning, Piety.
This Tax, as Nature's Subject, I must pay,
(weeps.
The little time I in her Empire stay:
My wound, I hope, will liberty bestow;
For if not mortal, grief will make it so.
How to the Tow'r shall I convey these dear
Sacred remains?

Phed.
I see some Souldiers near,
Perhaps they may be of our Friends.

Clar.
Go try;
Ex. Phed. and re-enters with Souldiers.
Beg of 'em this last act of Charity.
My Father from my arms went up to Joy,
Now in his cold embraces I will dye.

Ex. led by Phed. and Souldiers, some carrying off Mat.
An Alarm; Enter Phraartes and Monobasus.
Mon.
Whilst you Clarona search, I'le still alarm
The Foe, and keep our Souldiers courage warm.

Phr.
Does thy rash youth at length its error see?
But few hours since, with foolish bravery
Thou wert thy Rival's Buckler, and didst prove
So kind, to save him to enjoy thy Love.
My tenderness to thee has ruin'd both:
But that thy Youth I pity'd, and was loth
So many blooming hopes at once to shed,
Thy Rival, and our troubles, had been dead.

Mon.
I to attain the Queen did long despair,
So plac'd my happiness in serving her.

Phr.
Never contemn thy self; he who will have
Fortune or Women love him, must be brave.
Women are apt to err: that beauteous She
Who thinks her self too good, or fair for me,
Shall be too fair for all the world beside,
And take up all her pleasure in her pride.
But throw away despair, for I am here;
Thy Queen is thine, thy happiness is near:
Thy Rival shall in Chains thy Nuptials grace,
And thou his Mistress in his Tent embrace.
Be gone; I'le follow.—When I parted hence,
Exit Mon.
My Love I trusted to this Tow'rs defence.
Ha! the Gates open!—and no Guard within!
I fear this cursed Tow'r has faithless been:
If it has, let but any Air, or Sound
Offend her, I will burn it to the ground.

Exit.
A Bed plac'd, a Lamp by it. Enter Clarona led by Phedra. She lies down on the Bed.
Clar.
Death, I attend thy coming; for I now
Have finish'd all I have to do below.
I hear a noise: the ecchoing Chambers ring
trampling within.
With sounds confus'd.

[Phedra runs out, and returns.]
Phed.
Madam, it is the King.

Clar.
And shall Clarona see him e're she dyes?
Is such a blessing granted to my eyes?

Enter Phraartes.
Phr.
Silence, and darkness! all's not well, I fear;—
I shake!—

Clar.
My Lord!—

Phr.
Her Heav'nly voice I hear!—
Now to a gentle calm my passions fall,
That Divine Musick has appeas'd 'em all.
My Love!—to thy embraces let me hast;
(embraces.
That this to all Eternity might last.
But ha! thou sigh'st and weep'st! what dost thou aile?
Art thou not well? thy cheeks are cold and pale!—
Ease, ease my Soul, for I distracted grow!—
The cause of all this pompous sorrow shew!
Why is this Lamp, this Solitude, this Bed?
Speak, e're I fall in thy embraces dead.

Clar.
Insatiable eyes, give o're, give o're;
One close and greedy look, and then no more.

Phr.
What talk is this?

Clar.
No longer to detain
Your wandring thoughts, see there my Father slain.—
And the same bloudy weapon pierc'd my breast,
Which sent his Soul to everlasting rest.

Phr.
Plagues! tortures! death on all by whom 'twas done:
And me, from your defence for being gone!
This has exceeded all that I cou'd fear.—
And see!—bloud!—bloud is sprinkled ev'ry where!
Where is the wound whose fatal Spring does feed
This Purple River!—run for help with speed!—
Millions of Gold to any one for aid!—
Confusion!—why is not my will obey'd?

Clar.
I have had all the help that skill can give.

Phr.
Is there no hopes!

Clar.
Most certain hopes.

Phr.
To live!

Clar.
To live.

Phr.
Oh joy!

Clar.
My joys indeed are near;
Ever to live in Heav'n, no longer here.

Phr.
Is that your life?—I fear'd that pleasing tale
(aside.
Of Heav'n, at last wou'd over Love prevail.
Man is a foolish Pamphlet, full of Lyes;
Lyes are his hopes, and Lyes are all his joys:
Some promise him to come, and some to stay;
Those never come, and these fly fast away.

Clar.
Oh! how much Love and Excellence I leave!

Phr.
Oh! how much sweetness shall the Grave receive!

Clar.
How is my way to death with pleasures strew'd!
That I cou'd stay for ever on the Road;
For ever, ever, slumber on this breast:
I'm husht with Musick to my long—long—rest.
My belov'd Lord—farewell—

(dyes.
Phr.
She dyes!—she dyes!—
Speak once again! open once more those eyes!
Phraartes speaks to thee!—she's fled—she's fled—
And her pale Picture left me in her stead.
This—this is all of her that I must have—
And this is too the portion of the Grave.
—Away with tears!—this fond—this womanish floud!—
One kiss!—and then—to bloud—revenge—and bloud.
(kisses.
Charms!—conqu'ring charms in death!—hence with her hence!
For I begin to wander from my sense!—
Where are those lying Priests, that hang the Graves
With Maps of future Worlds?—shew me, you Slaves,
These Lands of Ghosts!—where is Clarona gone?
grows mad.
Aloft!—I see her mounting to the Sun!—
The flaming Satyr towards her does roul,
His scorching Lust makes Summer at the Pole.
Let the hot Planet touch her if he dares!—
Touch her, and I will cut him into Stars,
And the bright chips into the Ocean throw!—
—Oh! my sick brain!—where is Phraartes now?
Gone from himself!—who shall his sense restore?
None, none, for his Clarona is no more!—

Enter Monobasus.
Mon.
Hast hence Sir! all's on fire! Heav'n rains it down,
Sends Troops of flame to prey upon the Town!
A Legion now the Temple round besets,
Thick drops of Gold the falling building sweats.
The Romans strive with streams of Jewish blood
To quench the fire, but 'twill not be withstood.
A Divine fury on the flame has seiz'd,
It claims the pile, and will not be appeas'd.
The cursed Jews a League with it have made,
And to destroy the Romans lend it aid;
That a strange mixture now you may behold,
Rivers of Fire, of Bloud, and liquid Gold.

Phr.
I thank the Fire, it does revenge my wrong;
I'le go and guide its rav'nous Troops along,
And all the plunder I can find bestow—
And wish the World I in its arms cou'd throw.—
Ruine from hence the Universe invade!—
My light is set in an Eternal shade.
Look in and see my wretched meaning there—

Mon.
Clarona pale and slumbring does appear.

(looks in.
Phr.
Dead! dead!—gone out; that dark and fatal door
Which once lock'd on us, never opens more;
That vanisht light no more on me shall shine,
Now I'le prepare her Fun'ral pomp and mine.
The Macedonian King but to the shade
Of a dead Friend, whole Cities offerings made,
Wasted whole Provinces, whole Nations slew;
Then what shou'd I for a slain Mistress do?
Something I'le do, but what I cannot tell,
My mighty thoughts 'bove all expression swell.

[Offers to go, Monobasus stays him.]
Mon.
Oh stay Sir! I have lost a Mistress too,—
And want revenge and death as well as you.
Embassadors this moment tidings bring,
My Royal Brother's dead, and I'm a King.
I sent 'em back, and gave my Crown away,
And here to dye with you on purpose stay;
For I less Glory judge it, and judge true,
To govern Kingdoms, then to dye with you.

Phr.
Gallant young King!—let me your welcom give
To our high Rank!—much honour we receive,
Which I am sorry we so soon shou'd lose.
But since to share my destiny you chuse,
I will not seek to do your Glory wrong:
No, you shall dye with me,—then come along,—
Our Persons, Fames, and Glories we will bear,
To live and reign, we know not how nor where
In better company we cannot go;
We dare the utmost of our Fortunes know:
Plunge into deeps and never be perplext,
Be Kings this moment, and be nothing next.

Ex.
The Scene the Temple burning, fill'd with Jews lamenting.
Om.
Oh!—our Temple!—our Temple!—

1.
Jerusalem's lost!—that Heav'n shou'd this permit!
This Queen of Nations now in dust must sit.

Enter John and Eleazar.
Ele.
What shall we do? the fire does raging grow,
And streams of people to the Romans flow.

Joh.
I've Prophets hir'd, who shall deliv'rance cry,
And death to all that to the Romans fly.

Enter two Prophets.
1 Pro.
Lift up your heads, ye people! for this hour
Salvation comes, from Heav'n the seat of Pow'r.

2 Pro.
Salvation comes! a flaming Sword she bears!
Woe for partakers with Idolaters.

Enter a Pharisee.
Phar.
Hast, hast! deliv'rance on our Swords does wait!
The Roman Tyrant at the Golden Gate
In person, with a Legion of his Guard,
With Fire encompass'd, is from flight debarr'd.

Joh.
Fall on; and lest the Pagan shou'd retire,
Set the North Chambers of the Priest on fire.

Exeunt.
An Alarm; Enter Titus, Tiberius, Malchus, and Antiochus.
Tib.
Gods! at what rash design does Cæsar aim,
To plunge himself thus deep in bloud and flame?

Tit.
Oh save this building!

Mal.
Sir, all hopes are past,
The mounted flame does keep his seat too fast.

Ant.
Besides, the Dogs do their own Temple burn,
These fiery Spears against our breasts to turn.

An Alarm; Enter an Officer.
Offic.
Hast, hast, Sir, succours to your Legions bring,
They fall in crouds before the Parthian King.
On yonder burning Mount, which all commands,
He like another flaming Mountain stands;
And fights, and kills, with rage so much above
All that is Man, the Romans think him Jove.
Some cry for mercy, some by terrour fall;
By fear, by fire, and him, they perish all.

Tit.
That triple League no longer shall succeed;
The King, the mighty Chief of it, with speed
Shall be undeify'd by my own hands:
While I ascend with the Prætorian Bands,
Tiberius, King Antiochus and you
The Rebels in the upper Tow'r subdue.
Rebellion there has long my Pow'r defy'd,
But I will wound him now on ev'ry side:
Cut off that Hydra's head all at a blow,
That no more new ones in the stead may grow.

Ex.
After an Alarm within, Enter Malchus and Tiberius meeting.
Mal.
To Cæsar hast, with all the speed you can,
The Parthian King is something more then Man;
At least he is in League with Pow'rs Divine,
For Heav'n and Earth in his assistance joyn:
Voices are heard, and Visions seen ith'Air,
Thunder and Lightning to his aid repair.

Tib.
Strange things you tell; and which does yet encrease
My wonder more, the strange and sudden Peace
Is made between the Parthian King and Gods:
'Tis not long since they were at mortal odds.

Exeunt.
The Scene is drawn, and Phraartes, Monobasus, and their followers are seen defending a high rockie Mount. The Romans oft attempt to Scale it, but are beaten down by great Stones flung on their heads: Titus, Tiberius, Malchus, Antiochus, come to their assistance, Scale the Mount, and after some opposition ascend and take it. After a fight upon the Mount, the Scene closes. A shout of Triumph. The Scene changes to the Town. Enter Titus, Tiberius, Malchus, Antiochus.
Tit.
This loud and open flattery forbear,
This publick impudence; I hate to wear
A Robe of Glory which is not my own,
And tread on ashes which I ought to Crown.

Tib.
The Parthian Monarch's valour all must own;
But that does add the more to your Renown,
Whose greater valour conquer'd so much odds.
The King, the Fire, the Thunder, and the Gods.

Tit.
Vainglorious falshood still, and flatt'ry all;
He fell by Gods, by Gods alone cou'd fall.
At first the Gods against the Romans fought;
As they the Glory to destroy him sought,
For whom the whole World's Empire was too small,
Who was too great by mortal hands to fall.

Tib.
I'm sure the Visions help'd him while they stay'd.

Tit.
They did; but he, contemning of their aid,
Enrag'd they intermedled with his Fame,
Chasing us, sunk in Ambuscades of flame,
The Gods had laid, to save their Favorite, Rome:
Yet scarce durst stay to execute their doom,
But flung the burning Temple on his head;
Then straight for shelter to their Heav'n they fled:
Thus down alive into the shades he fell,
And stead of dying, he invaded Hell.

Tib.
Cæsar this vast Revenue of Renown
May give away, and not impair his own.
Your Eagles now, Great Sir, their wings have spread
O're all the Town, and struck Rebellion dead.
See, mighty Sir, beneath your feet in Chains,
The torn dissected Monster's last remains.
This bloudy villain, Hunger;—this, surprise
(pointing to John and Eleazar.
Drove from strong Vaults, that might all force despise.

Ant.
With these, some thousand Captives, Sir, are torn
From their Retreats, your Triumph to adorn.
The noble Jews in Battel chose to fall,
And bravely with their Country perish'd all.

Tib.
Of all the slain the numbers to compute,
The numb'ring Art of Rules is destitute:
The Earth cannot suffice the dead for Graves,
Nor Iron Mines yield Chains enough for Slaves.

Tit.
These Slaves shall satisfie me for this guilt,
And for the bloud of all their Nation spilt:
Conduct 'em hence, and Guard 'em to their doom,
They shall be publick spectacles in Rome;
First wait on my Triumphal Chariot there,
Then in a spacious Amphitheatre
I'le for this Triumph build, be all enclos'd,
And to wild Beasts in open view expos'd.

Tib.
Now Sir, that none of their surviving Race,
(As some will from your clemency find grace)
In after ages may their fancies please,
With hopes from double-meaning Prophesies,
The plainest sense of 'em we will display,
And in their ears fulfill 'em all to day.
Besides the heaps wherewith their Scrouls abound,
On an old Tow'r we an Inscription found,
Where it was writ,—One day in Jewish Land
A man shall rise, who shall the World command.
These foolish Slaves apply'd the Gods intent
To their base Nation, which to you was meant,
On you, Sir, it shall be fulfill'd this hour,
You are proclaim'd that mighty Emperour.

A shout.
Om.
Long live Titus Vespasian Emperour of Rome!

Tit.
My thanks to all my Troops; I'le gratefull prove
For all their Valour, Loyalty, and Love.
Oh! now I have receiv'd the fatal blow,
And must from Love to worlds of Glory go:
Leaving all joys for ever out of sight,
Which gave my Soul in th'other state delight.
Where is the Queen? my promise I forget,
For I must see, perhaps retain her yet.

Tib.
Great Sir, (as I have been inform'd) displeas'd
You stay'd so long, she has her rage appeas'd,
And all her sorrow chang'd into disdain,
Lamenting most, she did so much complain.
She now for ever has renounc'd your sight,
And is preparing for a speedy flight.

Ant.
Not far from hence, her Train and Chariots stay.

Mal.
And see, she's vail'd, and coming, Sir, this way.

Enter Berenice and Semandra.
Tit.
Ah, Madam! whither—

Ber.
Trouble me no more.

Tit.
I but one word, one look from you implore.

Ber.
Pray Sir retire.

Tit.
Whence does this change arise?

Ber.
Why talk you, Sir, with one you so despise?
You have attain'd the Empire you desire,
To the applauses of your Troops retire:
The Musick which did so delight your ears,
And ravish you, whilst I lay drown'd in tears,
Let 'em once more their cruel joy repeat;
Though wherein I have ever given so great
Offence to all your Troops, I cannot tell,
Except it was in Loving you too well.

Tit.
Oh, Madam! do you mind a foolish croud?

Ber.
They speak their Emp'rours sense too plain, and loud;
And whom you slight, they surely may contemn.
Go Sir, you have attain'd the Diadem
So long desir'd and sought; observant be
To all your Laws, and be not seen with me.
I'm going now your orders to obey,
And shall not long afflict you with my stay.

Tit.
Oh! to my Love you great injustice do;
Do I prefer th'Imperial Throne to you?

Ber.
Why else to banishment must I be sent?

Tit.
Oh! Gods! and see you not my great constraint,
By what strong maxims I am captive led,
What Pikes and Javelins guard th'Imperial Bed?
And it were yet more baseness to submit,
And for the sake of Love, the Empire quit;
That were a folly nothing cou'd redeem,
For Love, to lose your Love and your esteem.
You wou'd look back and blush, to see your Chains
Drag after you the wretched small remains
Of a poor Emperour despis'd, forlorn,
Whom you in Honour wou'd be forc'd to scorn.

Ber.
These are great maxims, Sir, it is confest,
Too stately for a womans narrow breast.
Poor Love is lost in mens capacious minds;
In ours it fills up all the room it finds.
I cannot tell what Glories you pursue,
I'd quit the Empire of the World for you.

Tit.
And Madam, what for you wou'd I refuse?
But poorly Empire and Renown to lose,
Were all those just pretences to forsake,
I to so brave a heart as yours can make;
So giving Fame for Love, should forfeit both.
For Madam, say, wou'd not your Spirit loath
An abject Prince, who should such meanness shew,
He poorly should for Love to Exile go?
Yet this inglorious Exile I must chuse,
Or Throne, Life, Glory, You, and all must lose.

Ber.
No, you shall lose no Glory for my sake,
I nothing from you, but my self, will take:
With too much flame I love Vespasian still,
To let him bear for me the least of ill.
So great a Love for you my heart contains,
I'd go to Rome with you a Slave in Chains;
But think it hard you should my Love requite,
With driving me for ever from your sight.

Tit.
Must my misfortunes still my crimes be thought?
Oh! Gods! in what distractions am I brought?

Ber.
You of your own distractions can complain;
But mine, though greater, I lament in vain.
Say all your grief is more then a pretence,
You have Renown your loss to recompence,
And by your own free choice your self undo;
But I am into Exile sent by you.
Despis'd, forlorn, disgrac'd, inglorious made,
Nothing in my obscure and mournfull shade
To comfort me, for all the wrongs I bear,
But death,—whose aid I will not long deferr.

[Offers to go out in passion, but is stopt by Titus.]
Tit.
What do you threat me with?—strive not in vain,
You shall not stir whilst these sad thoughts remain.
This shall not be the Tragical event
Of parting:—stay, unless 'tis your intent
I should at farewell some revenge afford,
And at your feet fall dead upon my Sword.
If ever you would kind to me appear,
If ever Titus to the Queen was dear,
As to my life any regard you bear,
Do not part from me in this sad despair.

Ber.
I can deny you nothing; I will still
Live and be wretched, since it is your will.
I hope though I to Exile must remove,
I am not wholly banish'd from your Love.
The Laws of Rome do not their Emp'rour bind,
At once to chace me from his sight, and mind:
And 'tis no fundamental rule of State,
Of a poor Queen the memory to hate.

Tit.
I hate your memory!—Oh most unkind!
Why with these words do you afflict my mind?
The thought of you is all the joy (Heav'n knows!)
I in my glorious banishment propose.
Since the first hour my heart to Love did bow,
It never felt such tenderness as now;—
Witness these tears—

(weeps.
Ber.
Oh Sir! these are not due!—
An Emp'rour weep!—and must I pity you?
Shew me less Love, that I may part with ease.

Tit.
Oh! Gods! who thought of these extremities!

Ber.
Who could have thought a Love so chast as mine,
So great, so pure, so void of all design,
Should so unfortunate to me have prov'd?
Wou'd I had never seen, or never Lov'd.
[She pauses to weep, and then proceeds.]
Well Sir, your sorrow kindly I resent;
So kindly, that I'le go to banishment:
Since till I'm gone unhappy you must be,
I will make room for your felicity.
Let Pow'r Vespasian to her self enjoy,
I will not enviously by stay destroy
So great advancement of th'Imperial Throne,
Better one Queen, then the whole World undone.
And for your future peace, I will provide
Some Cave this troubler of the world shall hide,
Where I till death will Love you as before,
But never interrupt your Glory more.

Ex.
Tit.
Oh! I am lost!—

Tib.
Now the great Combate's done,
All danger's over, and the day's your own.
Altars and Temples now—

Tit.
Oh! I despise
Those flatt'ring pomps, and splendid mockeries,
Where I am worshipt like a Pow'r Divine,
And yet all hearts are free to Love but mine.
My self I'le longer on the wrack retain,
And at her Chariot see her once again;
Then gaze till wide and spacious Seas of Air
Drown the last view, and then for death prepare;
I mean that tedious death, which men wou'd faign
Guild with the spacious title of a Reign.
Prepare to march by the approach of day,
I hate in this abandon'd place to stay,
Where I am hourly with the thoughts pursu'd
Of the Queens tears, and my ingratitude.

ex.