Queen. And can Arcadius

At fuch a Breath be mov'd? I had Opinion
Your Courage durft have stood a Tempeft for
Our Love; can you for this incline to leave
What other Princes fhould in vain have fued for?
How many Lovers are in Epire now

Would throw themfelves on Danger, not expect
An Enemy, but empty their own Veins,

And think the Lofs of all their Blood rewarded,
To have one Smile of us when they are dying,
And fhall this Murmur shake you?

Arc No, dear Madam,

My Life is fuch a poor defpifed thing,
In value your leaft Graces, that to lose
It were to make myself a Victory.

It is not for myself, I fear: The Envy
Of others cannot faften wound in me

Greater, than that your Goodness fhould be check'd
So daringly.

Queen. Let not thofe Thoughts afflict thee,
While we have Power to correct th' Offences,
Arcadius be mine, this fhall confirm it,

Arc. I fhall forget,

[Kiffes him,

And lofe my way to Heav'n; that Touch had been
Enough to have reftor'd me, and infus'd

A Spirit of a more celeftial Nature,

After the tedious Absence of my Soul,

Oh bless me not too much, one Smile a Day
Would stretch my Life (30) to Immortality.

Poets, that wrap Divinity in Tales,

Look here, and give your Copies forth of Angels!
What Bleffing can remain ?

Queen. Our Marriage.

Arc. Place then fome Horrors in the way For me, not you, to pafs; the Journey's end Holds out fuch Glory to me, I should think Hell but a poor Degree of fuffering for it.

(30) to Mortality.] The Change of the Text here is abfolutely neceffary, and Mr. Theobald and Mr. Seward concurred with me in it.

What's

What's that, fome Petition? a Letter to me.

You had a Polidora.

[Servant delivers him a Paper. Ha! that's all.

I'th' Minute when my Veffel's new lanch'd forth,
With all my Pride, and filken Wings about me,
I ftrike upon a Rock; What Power can fave me?
You bad a Polidora ; - there is a

Name kill'd with Grief, I can fo foon forget her.

Ser. She did impofe on me this Service, Sir,
And while fhe lives, fhe fays, fhe'll pray for you.
Arc. She lives!

That's well, and yet 'twere better, for my Fame
And Honour, fhe were dead: What Fate hath plac'd me
Upon this fearful Precipice?

Ser. He's troubled.

Arc. I muft refolve, my Faith is violated
Already, yet poor loving Polidora

Will pray for me, fhe fays; to think the can,
Renders me hated to myself, and every
Thought's a Tormentor, let me then be juft.
Queen. Arcadius!

Arc. That Voice prevails again; oh Polidora,
Thou must forgive Arcadius, I dare not
Turn Rebel to a Princefs; I fhall love
Thy Virtue, but a Kingdom has a Charm

To excufe our Frailty. Deareft Madam.
Queen. Now fet forward.

Arc. To perfect all our Joys.

Enter Macarius, a Bishop, and Caffander.

Mac. I'll fright their Glories.

Caf. By what means?

Mac. Obferve.

Arc. Our good Uncle, welcome.

Queen, My Lord Macarius, we did want your Person,

There's fomething in our Joys wherein you share.

Mac. This you intend your Highnefs' Wedding Day? Queen. We are going.

Mac. Save your Labour,

I've brought a Priest to meet you.

Arc.

Arc. Reverend Father!

Queen. Meet us! Why?

Mac. To tell you that you must not marry.
Caf. Didft thou hear that, Lyfimachus?
Lyfim. And wonder what will follow.
Queen. We must not marry ?

Bib Madam, 'tis a Rule

First made in Heav'n; and I must needs declare

You and Arcadius muft tie no Knot

Of Man and Wife.

Arc. Is my Uncle mad?

Queen. Joy has tranfported him,

Or Age has made him dote; Macarius,
Provoke us not too much, you will prefume

Above our Mercy.

Mac. I'll difcharge my Duty,

[Afide.

Could your Frown ftrike me dead; my Lord, you know Whofe Character this is?

Caf. It is Theodofius'

Your Grace's Father.

Bifh. I am fubfcrib'd a Witnefs.

Phi. Upon my Life 'tis his.

Mac. Fear not, I'll crofs this Match.
Caf. I'll blefs thee for't.

[Afide to Caf.

Arc. Uncle, d'ye know what you do, or what we are going to finish; you will not break the Neck of my glorious Fortune, now my Foot's i'th' Stirrup, and mounting throw me over the Saddle? I hope you'll let one be a King. Madam, 'tis as you fay, my Uncle is fomething craz❜d, there's a Worm in's Brain, but I beseech you pardon him, he is not the firft of your Council, that has talk'd idly; d'ye hear my Lord Bishop, I hope you have more Religion than to join with him to undo me.

Bifh. Not I, Sir, but I am commanded by Oath and Confcience, to fpeak Truth.

Arc. If your Truth fhould do me any harm, I fhall never be in Charity with a Crozier's Staff, look to't. Queen. My youngest Brother?

Caf. Worfe and worfe, my Brains

[Exit.

Τα

Mac. Deliver'd to me an Infant with this Writing,

To which this Reverend Father is a Witnefs.

Lyfan. This he whom we fo long thought dead, a Child? Queen. But what should make my Father to truft him your Concealment? Give abroad his Death, and bury An empty Coffin?

Το

Mac. A Jealousie he had

Upon Caffander, whofe ambitious Brain

He fear'd would make no Confcience to depofe
His Son, to make Lyfimachus King of Epire.
Queen. He made no Scruple to expose me then
To any Danger?

Mac. He fecur'd you, Madam,

By an early Engagement of your Affection
To Lyfimachus, exempt this Teftimony;
And had he been Arcadius, and my Nephew,
I needed not obtrude him on the State,

Your Love and Marriage had made him King
Without my trouble, and fav'd that Ambition ;
There was Neceffity to open now

His Birth and Title.

Phi. Demetrius alive!

Arc. What Riddles are thefe? Whom do they talk of? Omn. We congratulate your Return to Life,and Honour, And as becomes us, with one Voice falute you,

Demetrius King of Epire.

Mac. I am no Uncle, Sir, this is your Sifter, I should have fuffer'd Incest, to have kept you Longer i'th' Dark; love, and be happy both, My Truft is now discharg'd.

Lyfan. And we rejoice.

Arc. But do not mock me, Gentlemen; May I be bold upon your Words to fay

I am Prince Theodofius' Son?

Mac. The King.

Arc. You'll juftifie it?

Sifter, I'm very glad to fee you. Queen. I am

To find a Brother, and refign my Glory,

My Triumph is my Shame.

[Exit.

Enter

Enter Caffander.

Caf. Thine Ear, Lyfimachus.

Arc. Gentlemen, I owe

Unto your Loves, as large Acknowledgment
As to my Birth, for this great Honour, and
My study shall be equal to be thought
Worthy of both.

Caf. Thou art turn'd Marble.

Lyfim. There will be th' lefs charge for my Monument. Caf. This must not be, fit fast young King.

Lyfan. Your Sifter, Sir, is gone.

[Exit.

Arc. My Sifter fhould have been my Bride, that Name

Puts me in mind of Polidora, ha?

Lyfander, Philocles, ah! Gentlemen,

If you will have me think your Hearts allow me
Theodofius' Son, oh quickly fnatch fome Wings,
Express it in your hafte to Polidora;

Tell her what Title is new dropt from Heav'n
To make her rich, only created for me:
Give her the Ceremony of my Queen,

With all the State that may become our Bride,
Attend her to this Throne; Are you not there?
Yet ftay, 'tis too much Pride to fend for her,
We'll go ourself, no Honour is enough
For Polidora, to redeem our fault;
Salute her gently from me, and, upon
Your Knee, prefent her with this Diadem,
'Tis our first Gift; tell her Demetrius follows
To be her Gueft, and give himself a Servant
To her chafte Bofom; bid her ftretch her Heart
To meet me, I am loft in Joy and Wonder.

[Exeunt.

ACT