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The custom of this ceremony bluntly.
Euph. Could my tears speak,
My griefs were slight.
Enjoy my sister, Prophilus. My vengeance
Aimed never at thy prejudice. Arm. The king is dead :
Cul. Now withdraw. That fatal news was mine ; for in mine arms
[Ereunt CROTOLON, PROPHILUS, and He breath'd his last, and, with his crown, be
EUPHRANEA. queath'd ye
Bloody relater of thy stains in blood, Your mother's wedding-ring, which here I tender. For that thou hast reported him, whose fortunes Crot. Most strange!
And life by thee are both at once snatch'd from Cal. Peace crown his ashes ! We are queen
With honourable mention, make thy choice Near. Long live Calantha, Sparta's sovereign Of what death likes thee best; there's all our queen!
bounty: All. Long live the queen!
But, to excuse delays, let me, dear cousin,
Intreat you and these lords see execution
Neur. Your will commands us.
Org. One suit, just queen, my last : vouchsafe A long and painiul progress.-A third murmur
your clemency, Pierced mine unwilling ears,
That by no common hand I be divided Org. That Ithocles
From this my humble frailty. Was murthered, rather butchered, had not bra Cal. To their wisdoms, very
Who are to be spectators of thine end, Of an undaunted spirit, conquering terror, I make the reference: those that are dead, Proclaimed his last act triumph over ruin. Are dead; had they not now died of necessity, Arm, How? murther'd ?
They must have paid the debt they owed to nature, Cal. By whose hand?
One time or other.-Use dispatch, my lords, Org. By mine; this weapon
We'll suddenly prepare our coronation. Was instrument to my revenge: the reasons
[Ereunt CALANTHA, PHILEMA, and Are just and known : quit him of these, and then
CHRISTALLA. Never lived gentleman of greater merit,
Arm. 'Tis strange these tragedies should never Hope or abiliment to steer a kingdom.
touch on Crot. Fye, Orgilus !
Her female pity. Euph. fye, brother !
Bass. She has a masculine spirit : Cal. You have done it?
And wherefore should I pule, and, like a girl, Bass. How it was done, let him report, the for- Put finger in the eye ? let's be all toughness, feit
Without distinction betwixt sex and sex, Of whose allegiance to our laws doth covet Near. Now, Orgilus, thy choice. Rigour of justice; but, that done it is,
Org. To bleed to death. Mine eyes have been an evidence of credit
Arm. The executioner? Too sure to be convinc'd. Armostes, rent not Org. Myself: no surgeon. Thine arteries with hearing the bare circumstances I am well skill'd in letting blood: bind fast Of these calamities : thou'st lost a nephew, This arm, that so the pipes may from their conA niece, and I a wife : continue man still ;
duits Make me the pattern of digesting evils,
Convey a full stream: here's a skilful instrument, Who can outlive my mighty ones, not shrinking Only I am a beggar to some charity At such a pressure as would sink'a soul To speed me in this execution, Into what's most of death, the worst of horrors: By lending th’ other prick to th' other arm, But I have sealed a covenant with sadness, When this is bubbling life out. And enter'd into bonds without condition,
Bass. I am for ye. To stand these tempests calmly. Mark me, nobles, It most concerns my art, my care, my credit. I do not shed a tear, not for Penthea.
Quick fillet both his arms. Excellent misery!
[The arms of ORGILUS are bared, and Cal. We begin our reign
pieces of tape tied round the elbows. With a first act of justice. Thy confession,
He receives a stick in each arm. Unhappy Orgilus, dooms thee a sentence; Org. Gramercy, friendship: But yet thy father's or thy sister's presence Such courtesies are real, which flow chearfully Shall be excus'd. Give, Crotolon, a blessing Without an expectation of requital. To thy lost son: Euphranea, take a farewell, Reach me a staff in this hand: If a proneness
Or custom in my nature, from my cradle, Crot. [To ORGILUS.] Confirm thee, noble Had been inclined to fierce and eager bloodshed, sorrow,
A coward guilt, hid in a coward quaking, In worthy resolution !
Would have betrayed fame to ignoble flight,
And both be gone.
And vagabond pursuit of dreadful safety:
they place him on the one side of the altar. But look upon my steadiness, and scorn not After him enter CALANTHA, in a white robe, The sickness of my fortune, which, since Bassanes and crowned ; EUPHRANEA, PHILEMA and Was husband to Penthea, had lain bed-rid.
CHRISTALLA, in white; NEARCHUS, ARMOSWe trifle time in words : thus I shew cunning TES, CROTOLON, PROPHILUS, AMELUS, BASIn opening of a vein too full, too lively.
SANES, HEMOPHIL,and GRONEAS. CALANTHA (Opens a vein in his arm. goes and kneels before the altar, the women Arm. Desperate courage !
kneeling behind her; the rest stand off. The Org. Honourable infamy:
Recorders cease during her devotions. Soft Hem. I tremble at the sight.
music-CALANTHA and the rest rise, doing Gro. 'Would I were loose !
obeisance to the altur. Bass. It sparkles like a lusty wine new broached; The vessel must be sound from which it issues. Cal. Our orisons are heard; the gods are mer. Grasp hard this other stick; I'll be as nimble.
ciful. But, pr’ythee, look not pale; have at ye ! Stretch Now tell me, you, whose loyalties pay tribute out
To us your lawful sovereign, how unskilful Thine arm with vigour, and unshook virtue. Your duties or obedience is to render
[Opens the vein in the other arm of ORGILUS. Subjection to the scepter of a virgin, Good: oh, I envy not a rival, fitted
Who have been ever fortunate in princes To conquer in extremities; this pastime Of masculine and stirring composition? Appears majestical : some high-tun'd poem A woman has enough to govern wisely Hereafter shall deliver to posterity.
Her own demeanours, passions and divisions. The writer's glory, and his subject's triumph. A nation, warlike and inur'd to practice How is't, man? Droop not yet!
Of policy and labour, cannot brook Org. I feel no palsies.
A feminate authority: we therefore On a pair-royal do I wait in death;
Command your counsel, how you may advise us My sovereign, as his liegeman ; on my mistress, In choosing of a husband, whose abilities As a devoted servant, and on Ithocles,
guide this kingdom. As if no brave, yet no unworthy enemy:
Near. Royal lady, Nor did I use an engine to entrap
Your law is in your will. His life, out of a slavish fear to combat
Arm. We have seen tokens Youth, strength, or cunning ; but for that I durst Of constancy too lately to mistrust it. not
Crot. Yet, if your highness settle on a choice, Engage the goodness of a cause on fortune, By your own judgment both allow'd and lik'd of, By which his name might have outfac'd my ven Sparta may grow in power, and proceed geance.
To an increasing height. Oh, Tecnicus, inspired with Phæbus' fire,
Cal. Hold you the same mind? I call to mind thy augury; 'twas perfect :
Buss. Alas, great mistress, reason is so clouded Redenge proves its own erecutioner.
With the thick darkness of my infinite woes, When feeble man is bending to his mother, That I forecast nor dangers, hopes, or safety. The dust he was first framed on, thus he totters. Give me some corner of the world to wear out
(Falling. The remnant of the minutes I must number, Bass. Life's fountain is dried up.
Where I may hear no sounds, but sad complaints Org. So falls the standard
Of virgins, who have lost contracted partners; Of my prerogative in being a creature.
Of husbands howling that their wives were raA mist hangs o'er mine eyes; the sun's bright
By some untimely fate; of friends divided Is clouded in an everlasting shadow.
By churlish opposition; or of fathers Welcome, thou ice, that sit'st about my heart, Weeping upon their children's slaughtered carNo heat can ever thaw thee.
cases ; Near. Speech hath left him.
Or daughters, groaning o'er their fathers' hearses, Buss. He hath shook hands with time: his fu- And I can dwell there, and with these keep concert neral urn
As musical as their's. What can you look for Shall be my charge. Remove the bloodless From an old, foolish, peevish, doting man, body.
But craziness of age ? The coronation must require attendance:
Cal. Cousin of Argos.
To choose you for my lord, I'll open freely
What articles I would propose to treat on
Before our marriage.
gin wax placed upon it. Music of Recorders, Cal. I would presume you would retain the during which enter four, bearing ITHOCLES on a
royalty hearse, in a rich robe, with e crown on his head; I Of Sparta in her own bounds; then in Argos
Armostes might be viceroy; in Messene
Cal. One kiss on these cold lips, my last: Might Crotolon bear sway; and Bassanes —
crack, crack !Bass. I, queen? Alas! What I!
Argos, now Sparta's king, command the voices Cal. Be Sparta's marshal.
Which wait at th' altar, now to sing the song The multitudes of high employments could not Fitted for my end. But set a peace to private griefs. These gentle Near. Sirs, the song!
men, Groneas and Hemophil, with worthy pensions,
SONG. Should wait upon your person in your chamber. All. Glories, pleasures, pomps, delights I would bestow Christalla on Amelus; She'll prove a constant wife: and Philema
Can but please Should into Vesta's temple.
Outward senses, when the mind Bass. This is a testament;
Is not troubled, or by peace refin'd. It sounds not like conditions on a marriage. First voice. Crowns may flourish and decay, Near. All this should be perform’d.
Beauties shine, but fade away. Cul. Lastly, for Prophilus :
may revel, yet it must He should be, cousin, solemnly invested
Lie down in a bed of dust. In all those honours, titles, and preferments, Third. Earthly honours flow and waste, Which his dear friends, and my neglected hus
Time alone doth change and last. band,
All. Sorrows mingled with contents, prém Too short a time enjoy'd.
pare Proph. I am unworthy
Rest for care ; To live in your remembrance.
Love only reigns in death: though Euph. Excellent lady!
art Near. Madam, what means that word, neglect
Can find no comfort for a Broken ed husband?
Heart. Cal. Forgive me.—Now I turn to thee, thou
[CALANTHA dies. shadow Of my contracted lord! bear witness all,
Arm. Look to the queen! I put my mother's wedding-ring upon
Bass. Her heart is broke indeed. His finger; 'twas my father's last bequest : Oh, royal maid, 'would thou hadst mist this part !
[Pluces a ring upon the finger of ITHOCLES. Yet 'twas a brave one. I must weep to see Thus I new marry him, whose wife I am; Her smile in death. Death shall not separate us. Oh, my lords, Arm. Wise Tecnicus, thus said he: I but deceiv'd your eyes with antick gesture,
When youth is ripe, and age from time dotlo When one news straight came huddling on ano
The lifeless trunk shall wed the Broken Of death, and death and death; still I danc'd
'Tis here fulfill’d. But it struck home, and here, and in an instant. Near. I am your king. Be such mere women, who, with shrieks and out All. Long live cries,
Nearchus, king of Sparta! Can vow à présent end to all their sorrows, Near. Her last will Yet live to vow new pleasures, and out-live them: Shall never be digress’d from. Wait in order They are the silent griefs which cut the heart. Upon these faithful lovers, as become us.strings;
The councils of the gods are never known, Let me die smiling.
Till men can call th' effects of them their own. Near. 'Tis a truth too ominous.
WHERE noble judgments and clear eyes are fixed
As it transcended either state or fashion ;
THE DEATH OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT.
WRITTEN BY SIR CAV. SCROOP, BART. How hard the fate is of the scribbling drudge, To act your own, and not to mind our play, Who writes to all, when yet so few can judge ! Rehearse your usual follies to the pit, Wit, like religion, once divine was thought, And with loud nonsense crown the stage's wit; And the dull crowd believ'd as they were taught; Talk of your cloathes, your last debauches tell, Now each fanatic fool presumes t explain And witty bargains to each other sell ; The text, and does the sacred writ prophane; Glout on the silly she, who, for your sake, For while your wits each other's fall
pursue, Can vanity and noise for love mistake, The fops usurp the power belongs to you. Till the coquette, sung in the next lampoon, Ye think y'are challeng'd in each new play-bill, is by ber jealous friends sent out of town; And here you come for trial of your skill, For in this duelling, intriguing age, Where, fencer-like, you one another hurt, The love you make, is like the war you wage, While with your wounds you make the rabble Y'are still prevented ere you come t'engage: sport.
But it is not such trifling foes as you
the place where they may thrust and hit; On their experienc'd arms he now depends, And, therefore, like some bully of the town, Nor fears he odds, if they but prove his friends. Ne'er stand to draw, but knock the poet down. For as he once a little handful chose With these, like hogs in gardens, it succeeds, The numerous armies of the world toppose; They root up all, and know not flowers from So, back'd by you, who understand the rules, weeds.
He hopes to rout the mighty host ot fools. As for you, sparks, that bither come each day
Cly. 'Tis false.
Another time, what time? what foolish hour?
No tiine shall see a brave man do amiss. Enter HEPHESTION, LYSIMACHUS, fighting ; And what's the noble cause, that makes this Clytus parting them.
madness? Cly. What, are you madmen? ha! Put up, I | What big ambition blows this dangerous fire ?
A Cupid's puff, is't not, a woman's breath? sayThen, mischief's in the bosom of you
both. By all your triumphs in the heat of youth, Lys. I have his sword.
When towns were sacked, and beauties prostrate Cly. But must not have his life.
lay, Lys. Must not, old Clytus ?
When my blood boiled, and nature worked me Cly. Mad Lysimachus, you must not.
high, Heph. Coward flesh! Ö feeble arm!
Clytus ne'er bowed his body to such shame : He dállied with my point, and when I thrust,
The brave will scorn the cobweb arts--- The
souls He frowned and smiled, and foiled me like a fencer. O reverend Clytus, father of the war,
Of all that whining, smiling, cozening sex, Most famous guard of Alexander's life,
Weigh not one thought of any man of war. Take pity on my youth, and lend a sword! Lys. I confess our vengeance was ill-timed. Lysimachus is brave, and will but scorn me;
Cly. Death! I had rather this right arm were me, or let me fight with him again.
lost, Lys. There, take thy sword, and since thou art
To which I owe my glory, than our king resolved
Should know your fault what, on this fame For death, thou hast the noblest from my hand.
mous day! Cly. Stay thee, Lysimachus; Hephestion, Heph. I was to blame.
Cly. This memorable day, I bar you both, my body interposed.
When our hot master, that would tire the world, Now let me see, which of you dares to strike ! Out-ride the labouring sun, and tread the stars, By Jove, ye have stirred the old
man; that rash
When he, inclined to rest, comes peaceful on, arm,
Listening to songs; while all his trumpets sleep. That first advances, moves against the gods,
And plays with monarchs, whom he used to Against the wrath of Clytus, and the will
drive; Of our great king, whose deputy I stand. Shall we begin disorders, make new broils ? Lys. Well, I shall take another time.
We, that have temper learnt, shall we awake
Heph. And I.