Ith. You have built me To the full height I stand in. Cal. Now or never! May I propose a suit? Amyc. Demand, and have it. [Aside. Cal. Pray, sir, give me this young man, and no further Account him yours, than he deserves in all things To be thought worthy mine; I will esteem him According to his merit. Amyc. Still thou 'rt my daughter, Still grow'st upon my heart. Give me thine hand; [TO ITH. Calantha, take thine own; in noble actions Thou 'lt find him firm and absolute. I would not Have parted with thee, Ithocles, to any But to a mistress, who is all what I am. Ith. A change, great king, most wish'd for, 'cause the same. Cal. Thou art mine.-Have I now kept my word? Ith. Divinely. Org. Rich fortunes guard, the favour of a prin cess Rock thee, brave man, in ever-crowned plenty !— All. The gods preserve you! Cal. Sweet, be not from my sight. Ith. My whole felicity! [AMYCLAS is carried out.--Exeunt all but ITHOCLES detained by ORGILUS. Org. Shall I be bold, my lord? Ith. Thou canst not, Orgilus. Call me thine own; for Prophilus must henceforth Be all thy sister's; friendship, though it cease not In marriage, yet is oft at less command Than when a single freedom can dispose it. Org. Most right, my most good lord, my most great lord, My gracious princely lord, I might add royal. Org. Why not, pray, sir? The sovereignty of kingdoms, in their nonage, Of generation; you have conquer'd love Ith. Can it be possible? Org. I was myself a piece of suitor once, And forward in preferment too; so forward, That, speaking truth, I may without offence, sir, Presume to whisper, that my hopes and (hark ye!) My certainty of marriage stood assured With as firm footing (by your leave) as any's, Now, at this very instant-but Ith. 'Tis granted: And for a league of privacy between us, Org. Still, why not? I now applaud her wisdom: when your kingdom Ith. Then the sweetness Of so imparadised a comfort, Orgilus ! Org. The glory Of numerous children, potency of nobles, Org. I am unfitting For office; but for service Ith. We'll distinguish Our fortunes merely in the title; partners Org. The bed? Forefend it, Jove's own jealousy!-till lastly ment To show this was the king, and this the subject List, what sad sounds are these? ones. Ith. Sure from Penthea's lodgings. A SONG within. Oh, no more, no more, too late [Soft sad music. extremely sad Sighs are spent; the burning tapers Pure as are unwritten papers, Are burnt out: no heat, no light, Love's martyrs must be ever, ever dying. Ith. Oh my misgiving heart! Org. A horrid stillness Succeeds this deathful air; let's know the reason: Tread softly; there is mystery in mourning. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Apartment of PENTHEA in the same. PENTHEA discovered in a chair, veiled; CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA at her feet, mourning. Enter two Servants, with two other chairs, one with an engine.1 Enter ITHOCLES and ORGILUS. 1 Serv. [Aside to ORG.] "T is done; that on her right-hand. Org. Good! begone. Ith. Soft peace enrich this room! Org. How fares the lady? Phil. Dead. Chris.. Dead! Phil. Starv'd. Ith. Me miserable! Org. Tell us How parted she from life? Phil. She call'd for music, [Exeunt Servants. And begg'd some gentle voice to tune a farewell 1 Enter two servants with two chairs, me with an engine.] This engine, as it is here called, in correspondence with the homely properties of our old theatres, was neither more nor less than a common elbowchair, which, by means of a couple of leathern hinges and a yard or two of packthread, was made to cross its arms over the breast of the person seated in it. In the Devil's Charter, which appeared on the stage nearly thirty years before the Broken Heart, will be found the following stage-direction. "Enter Lucretia, with a chair in her hand, which she sets on the stage." The lady then delivers herself as follows: Luc. I have devised such a curious snare As jealous Vulcan never yet devised, To grasp his armes, unable to resist Death's instrument enclosed in these hands. Accordingly Gismond sits down, is "grasped," like Ithocles, and stabbed without resistance by his wife; who retires, as she entered, "with the chair in her hand."-GIFFORD, Chris. Which scarce was ended, But her last breath seal'd up these hollow sounds: "Oh cruel Ithocles, and injured Orgilus !" So down she drew her veil, so died. Ith. So died! Org. Up! you are messengers of death, go from us; [CHRIS. and PHIL. rise. Here's wo enough to court without a prompter. Away; and,-hark ye !-till you see us next, Keep a smooth brow.-[Exeunt CHRIS. and PHIL. Ith. Mine only sister! Another is not left me. Org. Take that chair, I'll seat me here in this: between us sits Ith. Yes, as you please. [Sits down, the chair closes What means this treachery? Org. Caught! you are caught, upon him. Young master! 'tis thy throne of coronation, Thou fool of greatness! See, I take this veil off; Survey a beauty wither'd by the flames Of an insulting Phaeton, her brother. Ith. Thou mean'st to kill me basely? Org. I foreknew The last act of her life, and train'd thee hither, To sacrifice a tyrant to a turtle. You dream'd of kingdoms, did you! how to bosom The delicacies of a youngling princess! How with this nod to grace that subtle courtier, How with that frown to make this noble tremble, And so forth; while Penthea's groans and tortures, Her agonies, her miseries, afflictions, Ne'er touch'd upon your thought! as for my injuries, |