Queen. Fierce Despair
Has forc'd a Way for the impetuous Soul.
'Tis well, he is in Peace--What means this tumult ? [Shout, clafbing of Swords.
Enter an Officer, his Sword drawn.
Officer. Fly, Madam, left your Perfon be not safe ;
The Traitor Bagoas, to whole Charge you trufted
The Prince your Son, has drawn the Guards to join him,
And now affifted by the furious Rabble,
On every Side they charge thofe Few who keep
This Palace and the Temple, with loud Outeries,
Proclaiming that they mean to free the Pris'ners.
Orchanes, ere I fled to give you Notice,
Fell by the Prince's Hand; the raging Torrent
Bore down our weak Refiftance, and pursuing
With furious Hafte, ev'n trod upon my Flight:
This Inftant brings 'em here.
Queen. Let 'em come on,
cannot fear; this Storm is rais'd too late,
I ftand fecure of all I wish already.
[Shout and Clafbing of Swords again;
Enter Artaban, Cleanthes, and Attendants, with their Swords drawn.
Artaban. Then Virtue is in vain, fince base Deceit And Treachery have triumph'd o'er the Mighty. Oh Nature! let me turn my Eyes away,
Left I am blafted by a Mother's Sight.
Queen. Ungrateful Rebel; do thy impious Arms
Purfue me for my too indulgent Fondness
And Care for thee?
Artaban. Well has that Care been shewn ;
Have you not foully ftain'd my facred Fame ?
Look on that Scene of Blood; the dire Effects
Of cruel Female Arts, But oh what Recompenfe?
What can you give me for my murder'd Love?
Has not the Labyrinth of your fatal Counfels
Involv'd my fair, my lovely, loft Cleone?
E
By our bright Gods I fwear, I will affert
The Majefty of manly Government,
Nor wear again your Chains: Still as our Mother
Be honour'd; rule amongst your Maids and Eunuchs,
Nor mingle in our State, where mad Confufion
Shakes the whole Frame, to boast a Woman's Cunning.
Queen. Thou talk'ft as if thy infant Hand could grafp,
Guide, and command the Fortune of the World;
But thou art young in Pow'r. Remember, Boy,
Thy Father, once the Hero of his Age,
Was proud to be the fubject of my Sway;
The Warrior to the Woman's Wit gave Way,
And found it was his Interest to obey.
And doft thou hope to fhake off my Command?
Doft thou, the Creature of my forming Hand
When I affert the Pow'r thou dar'st invade,
Like Heaven I will refolve to be obey'd,
And rule or ruin that which once I made.
[Exeunt Queen and Attendants.
Artaban. Let a Guard wait the Queen: Tho' Nature
plead
For Reverence to her Perfon, jealous Power
Muft watch her fubtle and ambitious Wit.
Haft thou fecur'd the impious Prieft, Cleanthes?
Magas, that Wretch that prostitutes our Gods.
Clean. Already he has met the Fate he merited :
This Night the Hypocrite in grand Proceffion
March'd thro' the City to appeafe the People,
And bore the Gods along to aid his Purpose:
When on a fudden, like a Hurricane,
That ftars at once, and ruffles all the Ocean.
Some Fury more than mortal feiz'd the Crowd:
At once they rush'd, at once they cry'd Revenge ;
→→Then (natch'd and tore the trembling Prieft to Pieces,
What was most frange, no Injury was offer'd
To any of the Brotherhood befide,
But all their Rage was ended in his Death:
Like ro mai Juftice that feverely ftrikes,
And in an Infant is ferene and calm.
Artaban, Oh my Cleanthes, do but caft thy Thoughts Back on the recent Story of this Night;
And thou with me wilt wonder, and confefs
The Gods are great and juft. Well have you mark'd,
Celestial Powers, your righteous Deteftation
Of Sacrilege, of bafe and bloody Treachery.
May this Example guide my future Sway:
Let Honour, Truth, and Juftice, crown my Reign,
Ne'er let my kingly Word be given in vain,
But ever facred with my Foes remain.
On thefe Foundations fhall my Empire ftand,
The Gods fhall vindicate my juft Command,
And guard that Power they trufted to my Hand.
THE Spleen and Vapeurs, and this doleful Play,
Have mortify'd me to that Heigh To-day,
That I am almoft in the mortal Mind
To die indeed, and leave you all behind.
Know then, fince I refolve in Peace to part,
I mean to leave to one alone my Heart:
(Laft Favours will admit of no Partage,
I bar all Sharing, but upon the Stage)
To one who can with one alone be bleft,
The peaceful Monarch of a fingle Breaft:
To one- But oh! how hard 'twill be to find
That Phoenix in your fickle changing Kind!
New Loves, new Interefts, and Religions new,
Still your fantastic Appetites purfue.
Your fickly Fancies loath what you poffels,
And every reftless Fool would change his Place.
Some weary of their Peace and Quiet grown,
Want to be hoiffed up aloft, and shewn;
Whilft from the envy'd Height, the Wife get fafely down.
We find your wavering Temper to our Coft,
Since all our Pains and Care to pleafe is loft.
Mufic in vain fupports with friendly Aid
Her Sifter Poetry's declining Head:
Show but a Mimic Ape, or French Buffoon,
You to the other Houfe in Shoals are gone,
And leave us here to tune our Crouds alone.
Muft Shakefpear, Fletcher, and laborious Ben
Be left for Scaramouch and Harlequin ?
Allow you are inconftant, yet 'tis frange,
For Senfe is fill the fame, and ne'er can change.
Yet ev'n in that you vary as the rest,
And every Day new Notions are profeft.
Nay there's a Wit has found, as I am told,
New Ways to Heaven, defpairing of the old:
He fwears he'll spoil the Clerk and Sexton's Trade,
Bells fhall no more be rung, nor Graves be made:
The Hearfe and fix no longer be in Fashion,
Since all the Faithful may expect Tranflation.
What think you of the Project? I'm for trying,
Pll lay afide thefe foolish Thoughts of dying;
Preferve my Youth and Vigour for the Stage,
And be tranflated in a good old Age.
New EDITIONS of the following PLAYS are now published:
THEODOSIUS; or, the FORCE of LOVE:
The Duke of BUCKINGHAM's REHEARSAL.
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