 | The Destruction of Jerusalem by Titus Vespasian. The Second Part |  |
Act II.
SCENE The Palace in Jerusalem.Enter Mathias, Sagan, Phineas.
Phin.
How long will Heav'n his needful aid delay?
With various plagues our Nation pines away.
Besieg'd without, by all the power of Rome,
Famish'd within, and no relief does come:
Our Prayers on daily Embassies we send,
But Heav'n no Angel Voluntiers will lend;
He locks his mercy up in Towers of Brass,
Nor lets our Prayers on their Embassage pass.
Sag.
Rome's batt'ring Rammes have more effect then ours,
Her Engines daily over-set our Tow'rs;
But our strong cries, though ne'r so loud we call,
Cannot so much as shake Heav'ns Chrystal Wall.
Mat.
I cannot dive into the mystick sence;
But Heav'n his presence has withdrawn from hence:
He none of all his wonted ways replies,
By Angels Visions, Dreams, or Prophesies;
But from his own Temple he has ta'ne his flight,
And given it to Owls, and Birds of night.
Phin.
A Reason sure no mortal thought can frame,
But Heav'n at us does all his Arrows aim.
We know not where to make our chief defence,
'Gainst Famine, Traytors, Rome, or Pestilence:
If from the Roman fury to preserve
Our selves we fight, we only fight to starve:
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We fight to eat, and eat to fight again.
Sag.
These are luxurious things you now relate;
The plenty's lust of that once happy state.
We must no more on the rich Meadows stray,
Nor dine with Cæsars Horses every day.
Titus not only a poor famish'd Crew
Imprisons, but their Walls and Bulwarks too.
A wondrous proof of Roman greatness shewn,
A mighty Wall surrounding all the Town,
Built in three days; that now we pounded are,
Penn'd in with Monsters, Famine, and Despair.
For Roman sport, like Gladiators here,
We fight, as in an Amphitheatre.
They laugh to see us by each other fall,
And shut in Famine to devour us all.
Mat.
And from that Monster we small mercy find,
Our Crowds are all to fleeting shadows pin'd;
They walk about like Spectres of the night,
Famish'd to Shapes, would even Ghosts afright:
Paler then Ghosts the starving people lie,
And rather seem to vanish then to die.
No tears for Friends or Kindred now are shed,
The living look with envy on the dead,
Who freed from Hungers rigorous demands,
Have flung their Tenements on Natures hands.
Phin.
And lest devouring Famine should be cloy'd,
And we not fast or soon enough destroy'd,
What little Orts the Monster can afford,
Are by the bloody Rebels Swords devour'd.
Sag.
And lest the Parthian King our Nation save,
That we from ruine no defence may have,
That spreading Tree, under whose Boughs we sate,
And shelter found in all the storms of Fate,
Blasted by Love, now withers every day,
And with him all our comfort pines away.
Phin.
Yes, at Clarona's feet ('tis said) he lies;
Who saves the Father, by the Daughter dies.
Sag.
It will dishonour on Religion draw;
'Tis true, we are forbidden by the Law
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But we are more forbid Ingratitude.
Mat.
Your Sentiments I do not disapprove;
My Daughter has my leave to shew him Love,
In hopes to win him by enticing Charms,
To Divine Pleasures in Religions Arms,
And to reward his Soul with Heav'nly Joy,
That Crown nor Rome, nor Rebels can destroy.
Phin.
Why our own safety do we thus neglect?
And only fight base Rebels to protect.
We bawd for them, whilst they their lusts procure,
We from Heavens Officers defend the door.
Vespasian is the scourge of wrath divine;
Let us these Rebels to the Rod resign.
Mat.
I dare not do it, they will then resume
Their ancient cries; Conspiracies with Rome!
With shews of truth they will their charge maintain,
And I shall help 'em my Renown to stain.
Cries without.
Heark! they have now begun their mornings chace.
Sag.
This Palace borders near the Holy Place,
And thence the winds these doleful noises bear.
Mat.
Some by the Rebels now are tortur'd there.
Phin.
Since those foul Spirits did the Temple haunt,
Our Ears did ne'r these entertainments want.
Mat.
Our Altars they possess, our Laws contemn;
Let us attone our sins with bloud of them.
Ex. om.
The Scene changes to the Temple,
Enter John, Eleazar, Pharisees, driving several over the Stage.
1 Pha.
Oh! bloody Hypocrites!
Joh.
Scourge! scourge 'em well!
See if th'Idolaters no food conceal.
Enter a Pharisee followed by a Woman.
1 Pha.
A Woman in the Act of eating ta'ne.
Wom.
Thou greedy Thief restore my Bread again.
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Denyed my self, and ran on Natures score;
And thou depriv'st me of this poor retreat,
Thou savage Cannibal my life dost eat.
Joh.
Thou griev'st thy self and us with vain complaints,
We must not sinners feed with Bread of Saints.
Now move our Plot, but so as none may know,
Whispers a Pharisee.
Or guess, you shoot my Arrows from your Bow.
Some Vision feign, for with a vulgar head
Visions like Pictures serve in Reasons stead.
2 Pha.
Enough.—
Whispers to John.
Now Brethren to our great Affairs.—
Oh! John, how long wilt thou deny our Prayers?
Seest thou not how the Nation headless lies?
The Priest depos'd by his impieties,
The Sacred Flock without a Shepherd stray
Through Thorns and Brakes, and made to Wolves a prey;
Whilst thou canst all their sufferings behold,
And wilt not drive 'em safe into a Fold.
Joh.
How precious is to me the tend'rest moan
Of suffering Saints, I oft and long have shewn.
I have lamented long to see a vile
and Impious Man the Diadem defile,
With Names of Good and Loyal guild his Train,
And Saints with the reproach of Rebels stain;
Deluding tender minds, who do not see,
Not Miters make a Priest, but Sanctity:
But Sirs, I would not have the burden fall
On me, the weakest, meanest of you all.
2 Pha.
We have consulted, wept, and pray'd, and find
Our Souls born to thee by a pow'rful Wind,
That blows from Heav'n, and against that Gale
No Humane Wisdom must pretend to Sail.
Job.
Alas! No Holy Man a Miter wants!
For we are all High Priests as we are Saints.
2 Ph.
But since some weak ones know not their own right,
And 'gainst Religion for a Miter fight;
For sake of tender minds 'twere fit we joyn
Internal Saintship with External Sign.
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Sirs, shall we not this way the Law offend?
This Office must to Aarons Sons descend.
Joh.
Think you (dear Brother) carnal Sons are meant?
No, but his Sons by Heavenly descent.
But yet suppose the literal sense were good,
Power Heav'ns Crown Land, is but at will bestow'd;
And when 'tis forfeited by wicked Men,
Returns to Saints the Royal Blood again.
I do not speak that such a weight should fall
On me the weakest, meanest of you all.
2 Pha.
Dost thou oppose us still? then hear, and fear
A Vision did last night to me appear,
Putting a Priestly Miter in my hand,
Takes a Miter.
Crown John with it (said he) at my command.
If he rejects it, or beneath it faints,
Let him reject too the reward of Saints.
Now, if you dare, the Vision disobey.
Joh.
But did the Vision John distinctly say?
2 Pha.
With a loud voice it John did thrice proclaim,
As if it fear'd I should forget the name.
Joh.
It must some secret Mystery contain;
For Dreams and Visions never do speak plain:
Some of you holy ones by John are meant.
2 Pha.
You are the John to whom the Miter's sent.
Joh.
Brethren, indeed you value me too high.
2 Pha.
Obedience to the Vision's voice deny?
Elea.
Perhaps the literal sense some doubts has bred,
I'le be the Mystick John then in his stead,
And with the Holy Burden will rejoyce.
[Ele. puts on a Miter.
John takes the Miter from Eleazars Head,
Joh.
I sin, I sin, I will obey the voice.
Brethren, I thank you all, for though I know
The Sacred burden, under which I bow,
Cannot by flesh and blood be undergone;
Yet you your high esteem of me have shewn.
With Cheerful Wine now fill the Holy Bowls,
And with Religious Joy refresh our Souls.
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And wicked Men do but our Rights invade.
If one of us a sinners Bread devours,
He wrongs him not, for all the world is ours.
The Banquet spread, and let the Musick play,
Thus Saints is all your Coronation day.
I'm but the humblest servant of you all,
To you the ease, to me the burdens fall.
My Priestly Blessing in this Bowl I give;
May Traytors perish, and the Brethren live.
For ever live, for ever love maintain.
1 Pha.
With swelling Hearts and Bowls we wish
All.
Amen,—
[All drink.
Joh.
Once more I wish, for ever love maintain!
2 Pha.
Once more we say Amen.—
3 Pha.
Amen!
All.
Amen.
[All drink.
Joh.
Now the Apostate I condemn to die,
Who has so long defil'd this Dignity.
By my own hand that Victim shall be slain,
And with his Blood I'le bless my following Reign:
True if the Soul of any private Saint
Does after such a glorious action pant.
Then by his valour let the Traytor bleed,
I'le humbly yield to him the gracious deed.
Exit.
Scene the Palace.
Enter Clarona, followed by Phraartes.
Phra.
In vain you fly, to death I will pursue!
I've always been accustom'd to subdue.
Indeed by Villains, Fortune, and by Rome
I've been betray'd, but ne'r was overcome.
Here I have brought my War, nor will be gone,
Till every Province of you be my own.
Clar.
Little knows he his Love's too great success,
And my now vanquish'd Heart's more great distress.
Phra.
See if she will bestow on me a look!
What Soul is able such disdain to brook?
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I stopt my Glory in its full careere.
There had not now in the whole world remain'd,
A Throne unconquer'd, or a King unchain'd!
But all that Glory in this fatal place
I have consum'd before one beautious face.
Clar.
Did I intreat you, Sir, so long to stay,
And for my sake your great Designs delay?
Phr.
I know you scorn my Love and Valour both!
The safety I bestow on you, you loath:
You daily like the Morn in blushes rise,
Because you live by one you do despise.
Clar.
All this with patience I can hear from you.
Phr.
You can hear any thing you should not do;
But you are deaf to all the loudest sounds
Of all my services, of all my wounds;
Though Camp and City both do silence break,
And there the Dead, and here the Living speak,
All to your hearing cannot force away.
Clar.
I still can bear.
Phr.
And still slight all I say.
Why with such scorn do you my Love deny?
Shew me the man on Earth more great then I,
And let that man the happy Lover be.
Clar.
Greatness not valued is at all by me.
Phr.
What do you value?
Clar.
Nothing in this vain
And wretched World—
Phr.
Wou'd I were out on't then!
Clar.
Where is the heart such kindness wou'd not move?
Who can resist such merit? and such Love?
(Weeps.)
Phr.
How! do you weep! Nay then I have done ill!—
Thus humbly I for pardon to you kneel!—
(Kneels.
Let not my rage a trouble to you prove!
I do confess I am unfit to Love.
Love has too violent effect, I find,
On my too rash, and most unruly mind.
Trumpet sounds.
The Trumpet calls!—farewell, too Lovely Maid!
To reach thy Heavenly Beauties I have straid;
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To find the place where Heav'n does touch the ground.
Whilst thou continu'st still, far, far above
Tallest deserts, and most aspiring Love.
Who highest climbe but reach thee with their Eye,
No more then those who in the Valleys lie.
(Offers to go.
Clar.
Oh! stay!
Phr.
That charming voice did I not hear?
Or did my thoughts deceive my credulous Ear?
Clar.
Stay yet a moment with me.
Phr.
Stay with you!
That I to all Eternity cou'd do.
Clar.
Sit down a while, for I have much to say.
Phr.
Such kind commands how gladly I obey.
Clar.
Did I e're think that any should subdue
(aside.
My heart to Love, and to confess it too?
Oh Heav'n! that thou so kind to me hadst been,
That I had never King Phraartes seen.
Phr.
Is it for this that I must tarry here?
Clar.
You may have patience, Sir, till more appear.
Oh had I never King Phraartes seen,
My life had been all happy, and serene!
I had not known what shame or guilt had meant,
Nor had a thought of which I might repent.
Phr.
Have I transplanted any of those foul
And thorny weeds out of my desart soul
Into your breast? let 'em not there remain,
Return 'em to their Native soyl again.
Clar.
You have a Plant, I thought no more cou'd grow
In my cold breast, then Roses in the Snow:
A Plant whose name I did abhor before,
Nor dare I name it lest I speak no more.
Phr.
What Artist can my trembling doubts remove?
Oh that I durst suppose it to be Love!
I'd give my Crown I cou'd my thoughts beguile
But with those dawning glimmering hopes a while.
Clar.
What unknown Fates are kept for us above?
That I shou'd own to any one I Love!—
Phr.
What vast oppression of delight is this?
Hold! for I bow beneath the weight of bliss.
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Alas! I think indeed you alter'd grow,
And bloud out of your wounds begins to flow.
Phr.
Let it flow on:—But did you say you Love!
Clar.
Suppress this passion, it may hurtfull prove.
Lean on my bosom whilst your wounds I bind.
Phr.
Oh joy! oh sweetness! oh my ravish'd mind!
I cannot speak the half that I wou'd say;
Trumpet sounds.
And heark, the Trumpet calls me now away.
Clar.
Peace, murd'ring sound! thou shalt not be obey'd;
You shall not stir, the bleeding is not stay'd:
Do not go from me.—
Phr.
Do not go from you!
If by each blow I gave, a King I slew,
For all their Crowns I wou'd not stir from hence;
But I must fight, my Love, in your defence.
Clar.
Can I be safe, and you in danger thrown?
Preserve my life in saving of your own:
Refresh your self a while with gentle ease,
And I'le oppose our cruel Enemies,
If need require;—I'me of a Nation bred,
Whose softer Sex has oft our Armies led,
Our Country sav'd, and singly have prevail'd,
When all the courage of our men have fail'd.
Phr.
Sweetest of creatures! if there Angels be,
What Angel is not wishing to be thee?
Our state not yet so very desp'rate grows,
That we should throw our Jewels at our Foes.
Love is thy field; for those delightfull harms
Thou art all over thee prepar'd with arms:
Shoot all thy Arrows in one melting kiss,
kisses her cheek.
And wound me, wound me to the death with bliss.
Our Vows are seal'd, and I a God am crown'd!
Clar.
In a red Sea of blushes I am drown'd.
Phr.
Torrent of sweetness! pour on me again
Thy overwhelming pleasures!—
Clar.
Oh refrain!—
Phr.
I cannot! cannot!
Clar.
Now you must no more;—
When Heav'n my Country's freedom shall restore,
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You shall not be the only wretched man.
Phr.
That word alarm does to my courage sound!
Another Soul does in my breast rebound.
Above a man I shall this moment fight,
And will be blest above a God to night:
For yet e're night no Foe alive shall be,
To interpose betwixt my joys and me.
But one kind look, and I to Arms repair.
Clar.
Take it, and with it my devoutest prayer
To Heav'n to guard you.—
Phr.
Oh how am I blest!
Clar.
Much less then I am!—pray at my request
Be carefull of your self.—
Phr.
That I shall be,
Cause Love has made me now a part of thee.
I leave with thee for pledge my soul, my heart.
Clar.
Good Angels guide you.—
Ex.
Phr.
Thou my Angel art.
She's mine; and now the Gods she did adore,
And heav'nly thoughts shall never haunt her more.
Ex.
| The Destruction of Jerusalem by Titus Vespasian. The Second Part | |