by Thomas Otway
But use such secresy as stoln Loves should have,
Be dark as the hush’t silence of the Grave.
Ard.
Madam, distrust not but that I shall do,
Both what is to your Love and Honour due.
Qu.
Honour! a very word; an empty name:
How dully wretched is the Slave to Fame!
Give me the Soul that’s large and unconfin’d;
Free as the Ayr, and boundless as the Wind:
Nature was then in her first excellence,
When undisturb’d with puny Conscience,
Mans Sacrifice was pleasure, his God, sence.
Enter Tessaphernes.
Tiss.
Madam by th’Kings command I’m to you sent,
Wh’attends your Royal presence in his Tent.
Qu.
I go. —
Exeunt. Qu. and Ardella.
Tiss.
— Now all is Ripe, me-thinks I see
Treason walk hand in hand with Destiny,
And both in a kind Aspect smile on me.
Now the whole Court proceeds to solemnize
The Nuptials of proud Alcibiades.
Where ev’ry thing does as I’d wish combine,
To give a happy end to my designe.
It is the custom at a Marriage Feast,
The Bridegroom —
With a full Bowl presents his cheifest guest.
The Cup’s by my great secresy and care,
With strongest potion all infected are:
Which when our Alcibiades shall bring,
And offer as his duty to the King,
The Poyson and his sudden death will seem,
Fully a Trayterous design in him.
Then must the Crown descend on me, and so
I feast my Rage, and my Ambition too.
Let Cowards spirits start at Crueltie,
Remorse has still a stranger been to me.
I can look on their pains with the same eyes,
As Priests behold the falling Sacrifice,
Whilst they yell out the horrour of their moans,
My heart shall dance to th’Musick of their groanes.
[Exit.
Enter Captain of the Guards.
Cap.
Look that your care and diligence be great,
See the Guards doubled, and each Cent’nal set.
[Exit.
The Scene drawn, discovers the Tent of a Pavilion; in it an Altar, behind which are seated the King and Queen attended by Tissaphernes, Patroclus, and the rest of the Camp; about the Altar stand several Priests of Hymen.
King.
Each day brings some surprize of pleasure, here
Love vyes his Tryumphs with the God of War.
Six Priests of Hymen Dance.
The Dance ended, Enter chief Priest and Priestess of Hymen; Priest leading Timandra, and the Priestess Alcibiades.
Priest Sings.
Distracting Jealousies and fears,
Heart-breaking sobs and restless tears
Fly to the breasts that are
Wrack’t with despair
In this, Priest.
Or this.
Cho.
No tears but those of Joy, no paintings but of bliss.
Priestess.
Yes, yes, by Love alone we see
On Earth the glorys of a Diety:
For ’tis the greatest work above,
To be innocent and Love.
Those then that flame so nobly here,
What Ravishing delights must they have there!
Cho.
Who on Earth to their honour are just, and their Love
Must reap the chief blessings above.
Priest.
Let’s then proceed, and Hymens aid implore,
To joyn those hands whose hearts were link’t before.
Priestess.
Agreed.
Prest.
Agreed.
Priest.
Agreed.
Prest.
Agreed.
Cho.
Hymen, Oh Hymen, come away,
Crown the wishes of this day.
See, see these pure refin’d desires,
Wait at thy Torch, wait at thy Torch to improve their fires.
Whilst this Chorus is singing, Hymen enters with his Torch, and joyns their hands with a Wreath of Roses, which the Priestess strikes with her Spear and breaks, then they offer both parts upon the Altar.
This Ceremony ended, a Dance is perform’d by four Priests and Priestesses of Hymen, all carrying in their hands short Spears muffl’d with flowers and boughs of fruit, after which a Bowl is brought in, and presented to Alcibiades, who immediately upon the receipt bows to the King, who descends with the Queen, and receives the Bowl of him, then speaks.
King.
To shew how strict a Reverence I have
For ev’ry thing that Loyal is, and brave,
Drawing near to Tissaphernes.
This signal honour only due to me,
Thus Tissaphernes, I confer on thee.
[Presents him the Bowl
Thus Tissaphernes I confer on thee.
[Presents him the Bowl.
Tiss.
Confusion! what means this?
King.
— Nay, do not start,
It is the offering of a grateful heart:
Come drink to such a depth as may express
Thy wishes for their Joy, and Sparta’s happiness.
Tiss.
I must obey your Majesty —
Proffering to drink, lets fall the Bowl, and seems to Swoun back.
Pat.
Alas my Father!
King.
— How fares our worthy Friend?
Hence quickly for our chief Physitians fend.
So much this Aged Hero I esteem,
I rather could part with my Crown than him.
Tiss.
My health Sir needs no other help than this,
[faintly.
That you will pardon its Infirmities.
The Wine was of so strong an Excellence,
Its Spirits prov’d too mighty for my sence.
Alarum without. Enter Officer.
Off.
Dread Sir, your Camp th’ Athenian Force Alarm’s:
Without the City Gates th’appear in Arms.
And with a numerous and Warlike train,
Begin their March upon the Neighb’ring Plain.
Their bloody Ensignes all display’d appear,
And hold an am’rous Combat with the Ayre:
Loosly they flye, and with a Wanton play,
Seem to salute the Sun-beams in their way:
Whilst their shrill Trumpets rattle in the skye,
As if with Musick they’d charm Victory.
And this Triumphant Pride does higher grow,
That they may make a Conquest fit for You.
King.
’Tis well, ev’ry Battalia Re-inforce
With my late fresh supplyes of Persian Horse:
Their Fate no longer will delay endure;
Prepare to fight ’em in this very hour.
I’d have this day hereafter famous be,
For the Renown of Love and Victory.
Shouts from afar Enter another Officer.
2d. Off.
The Enemy Sir does on the Plain appear,
And with Re-ecchoing shoutings pierce the Ayr.
King.
So Beasts decreed for slaughter e’re they fall,
With their own Bell’wings ring their Funeral.
Finis Actus Secundi.
ACT THIRD.
SCENE FIRST: THE CAMP.
Tissaphernes.
Tiss.
CURSE on my niggard Stars, they were so poor,
That my Revenge prov’d greater than their pow’r,
My fury had begot so vast a Birth,
Fate wanted strength enough to bring it f
orth.
Trumpets afar off sound a Charge.
That sprightly sound darts fiercely through my soul,
Oh that I might one minute fate Controule;
Could but command one happy fatal Dart,
To send it self into Gen’rals heart.
Enter King and Queen attended.
King.
Thus must proud States submit when Monarchs claim:
They govern in a rude disorder’d frame,
As Stars in a dim Senate rule the Night,
But Vanquish at the Suns more Potent light.
Athens now feels the fury of my heat:
A pow’r like theirs, divided, can’t be great:
It may tumultious and num’rous show,
But ne’re contract to give a steady blow.
Qu.
In States those monstrous many-headed pow’rs
Of private int’rest publick good devours.
’Tis true, when in their hands a rule they gain,
They know to use that power, not maintain,
Like Pyrats in a Fleet, a while they may
Seem dreadful; but when by some juster force
Oppos’d —
Each his own safety seeks, and shrinks away.
Tiss.
You Sir have Vanquish’d Emp’rours, Fetter’d Kings:
States are such mean and despicable things,
Compar’d with other glorys y’ave subdu’d,
Their Conquest seems but a soft Interlude.
Trumpets from far sound a Retreat.
Enter Messenger.
Mess.
This minute Sir, your Glorys are compleat,
The routed Enemy makes a faint Retreat:
Victory blushing, they no more could do,
With a full wing directs her flight to You.
King.
Thus Desdamia are our wishes Crown’d,
Love and Renown in the same Sphear go round:
Our lasting Loves draw lasting Victories,
Whilst Courage takes his flame from Beauties eyes.
Enter another Messenger.
2d. Mess.
Thus hourly Sir, fresh glorys you receive,
Athens no more’s your Enemy, but Slaves
Like the sad Ruins of a Hurricane,
Their totter’d Troops are scatter’d o’re the Plain,
And in disorder’d Parties make away.
King.
Relate, how went the bus’ness of the Day?
Mess.
Brave Alcibiades has wonders done.
Ne’re greater Courage was in Sparta shown.
Troops were not able to withstand his shock,
Like thunder from a Cloud his fury broke
On all his Enemies, and like that too,
Death and Amazement did attend each blow.
Long doubtful Fortune dally’d on her Wheel,
And neither seem’d to move it, nor stand still,
Till at the last the brave Polyndus fell.
His loss did so amaze the Enemy,
That in disorder they began to fly.
Yet brave Theramnes Rally’d in their head,
Though to their fate was but a while delay’d,
For by our Gen’ral he was Captive made.
And which agen they did their flight renew,
With numbers too so totter’d and so few,
It had been Barbarism to pursue.
Thus fair Timandra, who from far had been
An anxious looker on this Tragick Scene,
With all the hast Joy could, or love afford,
Flies to congratulate her Conqu’ring Lord;
Now both in solemn Triumph this way move,
To Crown your Glorys as you Crown’d their Love.
Trumpets. Enter Alcibiades, Patroclus, Timandra and Theramnes Prisoner: Alcibiades kneels to the King.
King.
Sir, of your brav’ry I’ve already heard,
So much above the power of Reward;
It were but just that I should homage do,
And offer up acknowledgments to you.
Rise Sir, and give this Ceremony o’re,
The posture ill becomes a Conquerour.
[Alcib. rises.
Alcib.
Conqu’rours that are Triumphant in the Field,
Must at their Monarchs feet their Trophies yield;
For all those glorys which their Conquests claim,
They only have subordinate from them.
Thus, though my Sword this Captive has o’recome,
It is from You he must expect his Doom.
Th.
Yes, and in this you have o’recome him too,
He cannot talk Sir half so fast as you.
Curse, though I am your Prisoner, I hate
To hear your pride upbraid me with my Fate.
Alcib.
Why Sir, was’t not my favour that you live?
Th.
No; for I hate that Life your hand did give.
Know, had your Fate been mine —
I should have urg’d kind destiny more home,
And there have Revell’d Rival in your room.
Alcib.
Sir, for your Love, you shew but weak pretence,
When all your Arguments is Insolence.
Whence does it spring?
The.
— From whence your bliss you draw,
Love, that ne’re clog’d his Proselytes with Law.
I lov’d this fair one first, and you must know
I’l love her still; And what’s all that to you?
Alcib.
This Rudeness Sir, my fury can’t Engage,
You are ill-manner’d, and beneath my Rage.
The.
But know, I’l follow still my hate to thee;
Nor shall my Chains obstruct thy destiny:
Thou did’st supplant me in Timandra’s Love,
For which I gave thy glorys a remove;
And on thy Ruins made my self more great:
But since my wishes Fate would not compleat,
My Fury with my Fortune shan’t decrease,
I’l still pursue thy Life and happiness:
By all despaires dark arts thy fall design,
Till in thy blood I write Timandra mine.
Alcib.
Rave on; know of your threats no sence I feel,
I’d laugh at ’em, wer’t not to loose a smile.
King.
But I’l take care that he shall better know,
What ’tis a Captive for his life does owe,
How dare you offer here these Injuries?
Know you how much this gallant man I prize?
Guards, to Confinement the Offender bear,
Be his Bounds narrow, and restraint severe,
Since in your breast such a hot frenzy reigns,
We’l try how you can brave it in your Chains.
Th.
So King, as Thou shalt envy what Th’as done,
I have a soul can smile when Thou dost frown.
Whilst I Timandras fair Idea wear,
I can’t want freedom, for I’l think of her.
Exit Guarded.
King.
Thus Madam, to your Eyes must Conquest bow,
Who are your Slaves no other Fetters know.
Tim.
If any charms in me there can appear,
They only are confin’d and bounded there:
No greater aymes, nor more Ambition know,
Thou how Sir to obliege him that serves you.
Alcib.
Your gen’rous pitty to our faithful flames,
That power which it gave ’em justly claimes.
Thus happy by your great indulgence made,
In Joyes so perfect, nothing can Remove,
Your spreading gloryes ne’re shall shrink or fade;
Till you forget to aspire, and we to love.
But how dare I Usurp the least pretence,
Who only borrow all my Lawrells hence!
[pointing to Patr.
This is that noble Youth, who, when I stood
Beset on every side with death and blood:
To my relief such gen’rous succour brought,
And things so much above ev’n wonder wrought.
Pat.
You, Sir, that taught me friendship, taught me too,
How much is to that Sacred title due.
No Sir, if your Life at hazard lye,
Though thousand deaths should dare me on I’l fly,
And Conquer all, or bravely with you dye.
Alcib.
In gallantly you are so absolute,
That I grow faint, and flag in the pursuit.
Yet that return accept in silence here,
Which is so great ‘twill no expression bear,
[Embraces him.
Tiss.
Hell! Sure my blood is grown degenerate.
Can this my Son Embrace the man I hate?
[Aside.
King.
How Tissaphernes, is thy good age blest
In such a Son, of such a friend possest?
Thus from thy Rev’rend Trunk fresh glories spread,
And with their pious Lawrels shade thy head.
Tiss.
In this warm Comfort patiently I’l sit,
Till Fate shall come and claim her latest debt.
Sometimes my Youths past Triumphs I’l review,
And please my self they are approv’d by you:
Alas I’ve nothing else left now to do.
[Ironically.
Oh my dear Boy! Sir, be my Joy thus showne,
Possess the Father as you’ve gain’d the Son.
[Embraces both.
King.
Monarchs thus propt, the shocks of Fate defie,
No bonds so firm as those which Friendship tye.
[Exit King attended; Manent, Alcibiades, Timandra and Draxilla.
Alcib.
Now noblest Sister, how shall be repayd
Those large endearments which your love has made.
Our happiness will but Imperfect prove,
If midst the growing pleasures of our love,
We nothing else ingratitude can do,
Then only with a happiness to you.
Deax.
What I have done Sir, never had regard,
To that Sinister thing we call Reward.
Good deeds their worth and value have from hence,
They their own Glory are and Recompence.
Alcib.
But Sister, if I might one Question move;
Drax.
Your pleasure Sir? —
Alcib.
— Could you not Madam — Love?
The Friend in whom I’m happy since I came,
In honour’s as renown’d as in his name.
He, when I to him often would Relate
The sad adventures of my love and fate;
So much your gallant Friendship did admire:
That with your Character he grew on fire;
And bears a flame so noble and sublime,
