by Thomas Otway
Perhaps I’d now been kindlier understood.
King.
Alas dear friend misconstrue not my Zeal,
Weigh not my Passions in nice Reasons Scale.
Who wou’d believe a King should blindly place
His love so firmly, for returns so base?
Wrack me no more, but the dark scruple clear:
My Souls in a Convulsion till I hear.
Tiss.
Yes Sir, ’tis he, and thus his Plots were lay’d.
Th’ account I from the dying Captive had;
Whom he with liberty had brib’d, to joyn
With him in this his Treacherous design,
This night wi’th’ enemy your Camp t’envade,
On promise it should be by him betray’d.
Which when the Gallant Captive did disdain,
He was to Combat dar’d, and by him slain.
If you insist on farther evidence,
Theramne’s murder’d Guards enough convince:
Hence you may farther confirmation have.
King.
Be bold; speak what thou knowst. —
4 Vil.
— When to relieve
The Captives Guards, I by command was sent,
I found e’m murder’d at th’ door o’ the Tent.
In one of e’m some life did yet remain,
Who told me they were by our General slain,
‘Cause they Theramnes freedom had deny’d.
More he had said, but at these words he dy’d.
King.
It was enough. Treason, how dark art thou?
In shapes more various then er’e Proteus knew.
By Heav’n I’le make him base, despis’d, and poor,
More wretched then e’re Monster was before.
Naked, and stript of all his dignities,
I’le lay his odious Crimes before his eyes.
Then when his mind is lab’ring with regret,
To make his infamy the more compleat,
Some common slave shall on him justice do,
And send his Soul among the damn’d below.
Guard wait on him —
[to Tissaphernes.
Go ere’ my love return, and I repent,
And seize upon the Traytor in his Tent.
A speedy vengeance best befits this wrong,
‘Twere too much mercy to delay it long.
Enter Alcibiades and Timandra.
Alci.
This way’s the King?
Tiss.
He’s here leapt into th’ net.
Thus Sir the King salutes you.
[Guards seize Alci.
Alci.
Slaves retreat.
Tim.
Alas my Lord!
Tiss.
— Sir ’tis the command.
The least of ’em I never durst withstand,
Tim.
But Sir what meaning can this usage bear?
Tiss.
The King Sir quickly all your doubts will clear.
King.
Away with him, thou Poyson to my eyes.
Alci.
The basest wretch not unconvicted dyes.
Sir, let me know what ’tis that I have done,
Unworthy of my honour or your Crown.
If in your cause who’d spend his dearest blood,
As is to be your meanest Vassal, proud,
No greater welfare then in yours does know,
If he be an offender, I am so.
King.
How cunningly he would seem innocent,
And guild with flattery his foul intent!
Thus Traytours in their fall are like the Sun,
Who still looks fairest at his going down.
‘Sdeath Sir, do you believe me Child, or fool,
Whom ev’ry fawning word, or joy can rule?
By Heav’n I’le let you see Sir your mistake;
Hence with the Traytour quickly to the wrack.
Alci.
Sir, hear me speak. —
King.
What is’t that you can say,
Who would my Crown and your own trust betray?
When you from Prison set the Captive free,
Basely to win him to your Treachery:
Whom, when on him your plots could nothing do,
You kill’d, ‘cause he more honour had then you.
Alci.
By all above Sir I am innocent;
I ne’re knew what the thought of Treason meant.
But know from whence this jealousie you drew,
From him that hates me, and abuses you:
Theramnes had his liberty from hence;
[to Tissapher.
And for designs so base. —
Tiss.
— Oh impudence!
To what prodigious height will treason climb!
Dare you Sir charge me with your heavy crime?
Old as I am, my Sword should do me right.
But —
Alci.
— Monster hence, and them that fear thee fright.
Thinkst thou to play with the black deeds th’ast done?
Were I but free, though naked and alone,
Thou too defended by a desp’rate crew,
And all indeed more near being damn’d then thou;
This single Arm should prove my cause is good,
And Chronicle my honour in their blood.
King.
I’st thus Sir you would plead your innocence?
Think you t’outbrave us with your impudence?
Once more the Traytor to his tortures bear.
Qu.
But Sir your justice now is too severe.
‘Twere an ill Tryumph after victories,
To make the Conquerour the Sacrifice;
That Gallantry some priviledge may plead.
King.
His treasons are too plain and open lay’d,
And all his merits weigh’d against them light.
Qu.
Should we him guilty of worse crimes admit,
And that in’s death you’d worthiest justice show,
Yet to forgive’s the nobler of the two.
King.
When Deidaira pleads I can’t deny,
His doom’s this time recal’d, he shall not dye;
But (rob’d of all his joys) let him be sent
To a perpetual imprisonment;
His treasures rifl’d, and his Wife a slave.
Alci.
Here on my knees let me one favour crave.
Whatever fate you have design’d for me,
It is embrac’t, but Sir let her be free;
Let all the weight of the alleadg’d offence
Light upon me; wrong not her innocence.
Tim.
How mean and abject is your courage now!
Think you that I dare suffer less then you?
No Sir; in this he has no right to plead;
What e’re you think either has merited,
Let equally justice on us both be shown;
And as we are, so let our fates be one.
Alci.
Thou wonder of thy Sex! —
King.
I’l hear no more:
How dare you tempt an angry Monarchs pow’r?
But since his fate so grateful you esteem:
Let her be Pris’ner too, but far from him.
He must not be so happy to have her,
For fetters would be blessings were she there.
Go see you execute our orders strait.
Tim.
Thus we with smiles will entertain our fate.
My dearest Lord farewel, let not a sigh
Or tear proclaim we greive our parting’s nigh.
Were it to quit our happiness a pain,
Joy were not then a blessing, but a chain.
No, let us part, as dying Martyrs do,
Who leave this life only to gain a new.
&nb
sp; Greif equally ignoble were as vain,
Since we at least in Heav’n shall meet again.
Alci.
So from their Oracles the Deities
Instruct the ignorant World in Misteries.
But, part! that word would make a Saint despair.
Obedience cannot be a vertue here.
If so ye Gods ye have such precepts giv’n,
That an example would confound your Heav’n
You duties beyond your own omnipotence enjoyn;
Can you forsake your Heaven, or I leave mine?
Till when thus King I’m fix’t beyond remove,
With all the Cements of an endless love.
Kill me, thou yet shalt of thy ends despair,
My Soul shall wait upon her ev’ry where,
Nay I’d not fly to Heav’n till she came there!
King.
Shall I thus see my self out-prav’d? away,
He is a Traytor that but seems to stay.
[Alcibiades snatches a Sword from one of the Guards.
Alci.
Now I am arm’d, death to that wretch that stirs.
King.
Sir, do you think to look us into fears?
Disarm him Guards, or kill him.
[They sight and disarm him.
Tiss.
Push home ye Dog —
Alci.
— Sordid slaves.
Thus ev’ry Ass the helpless Lyon braves.
Adieu divinest of thy Sex, adieu!
I never thought that I could part till now.
Now I deserve the worst fate has in store,
That in so brave a cause should do no more.
[The Guards offer to lead him off.
Yet stay one look. Thus does the needle steer
To his lov’d North, and fain would come more near:
When in the eager prospect of his joy,
He is by some rude artist snatch’t away.
Farewel, —
Tim.
Farewel, and if your memory
E’re trouble you with such a thing as I,
Let not a sigh come from you, but beleive
I’d rather be forgot, then you should grieve.
Alci.
Such worth shall in each Temple have a shrine;
What, to regain her, would I not resign?
But she’s too heav’nly to be longer mine.
[Exeunt several ways Guarded, and looking back at each other.
King.
She’s gon, but oh what mighty charms there lye
Couch’t in the narrow circle of an eye!
Had she but stay’d another minute here,
I had worn chains, and been her Prisoner:
And still I fear my heart is not my own;
For if so bright when to a Dungeon gone,
How would she shine Triumphant on a Throne!
[Exit.
Qu.
So now or never must my love succeed,
Vainly weak King hast thou his doom decreed.
In this beginning of his fall th’ast shown
But the imperfect figure of thy own.
Few hours remain ‘twixt thee and destiny,
Till when grow dull in thy security.
Timandra’s and thy death is one design;
Then if a Crown can tempt him, he is mine.
[Exit.
ACT FIFTH.
SCENE I.
Tissaphernes Solus.
Tiss.
NOW like a Lyon on my prey I’le feast.
Revenge! thou solace to a troubled breast.
Could but Theramnes in Elizium know,
How would his Chost rejoyce at what I do!
[Theramnes Ghost rises.
Gh.
Oh no —
Tiss.
Death, what is that I hear and see?
Begon dull Ghost; if thou art damn’d, what’s that to me?
Gh.
From deepest horrour of eternal night,
Where Souls in everlasting torments groan,
Where howling fiends be chain’d, and where’s no light,
But thickest darkness covers ev’ry one,
I come to warn thee mortal of thy sin;
Short time is here left for thee to remain.
‘Twere fit that thy repentance soon begin,
For think what ’tis to live in endless pain.
Farewel —
[Descends.
Tiss.
— ’Twas an odd speech, but be it so:
Pish; Hell it self trembles at what I do;
And it’s submission better to express,
Sends this Embassadour to make it’s peace.
Let idle fears the superstitions awe;
With me my resolution is a law.
Repentance now would be too late begun:
Ages can’t expiate what I have done.
And if below for Souls such torments are,
Methinks there’s yet some brav’ry in despair.
The easie King looks little in his State,
His Crown is for his Head too great a weight:
But I will ease him, and adorn this brow.
Thus to my aimes no limits I’l allow.
Revenge, Ambition, all that’s ill, shall be
My bus’ness; so I’l baffle destinie.
Hell! no, —
I’l act such things whilst here I have abode,
Till my own Trophyes raise me to a God.
Enter Queen.
Qu.
Now such an Engine is it I would have,
I know he is a Traytor, and is brave.
I’l bait him with ambition that may move;
Then if complacent to my ends he prove,
In seeming to comply with his design,
I’l make him but an instrument to mine:
For when success me to my wishes calls,
I’l shake him off, and then unpropt he falls.
My Lord! —
Tiss.
Madam!
Qu.
My Father lov’d you well,
I’ve heard him oft of your achievements tell
When in his Camp such gallant deeds you wroughe,
And always victory and triumph brought:
Tiss.
Madam, your Father was all good and just.
Qu.
Be could, why may not I your honour trust?
Tiss.
You wrong it ; your Father lives in you
As I was his, I am your Champion too.
Though old, against your Foes this Sword shall
Your right; name but your Traytor, and he’s dead.
Qu.
Nay Sir, the Traytor’s not alone my Foe,
His injuries extended are to you,
To you to whom he owes all he enjoy
Yet basely him that gave him growth destroys;
Whilst for his ills he would his kindness plead,
To heap your honours on your Rivals head.
Rally your Courage up, if you are brave,
And at once mine, and your own honour save.
Tiss.
Your Majesty would mean the King. Do ye try
My resolution, or my Loyalty?
Qu.
Your Courage Sir is known, your Loyalty,
If you have any, you’l find due to me.
Through me these honours you in Sparta bore,
And ’twas my Father made you great before.
Now know it is the King, whose perjured Soul
Has done me injuries so base and foul,
That all that’s good will blush at; his vowes past
To me all in anothers love are lost.
Nay, with my honour too my life must bleed,
He, with the General’s, has my fall decreed,
To take the fair Timandra to his bed.
Let’s go surprize him now he’s full of Wine,
Revenge me on his life, his Crown is thine.
Ti
ss.
Madam, indeed the injuries you feel
Cry loud; nor do I tamely see my ill.
But you must swear to me you will be true,
Qu.
By all that’s holy I’l be so to you.
Tiss.
I’l do’t, but Madam know I undertake
To hazard life and honour for your sake,
Should you betray me: —
Qu.
Nay now you are unkinder then before.
To my first Oath I’l add a million more.
Tiss.
And you will still be mindful of the Crown?
Qu.
Had he ten Thousand, they were all your own.
Tiss.
This then’s his fate; pitty a Crime were here:
He shan’t have time enough to make a prayer.
[draws a Dagger.
Qu.
Be bold; and prosper in thy brave design,
And when his death’s perform’d, the next is thine.
[aside.
Tiss.
This trap was dang’rously and subtly lay’d,
[Exit.
But I am not so easily betrayd.
Her love to Alcibiades I know,
Her Woman for me did that kindness do.
And since she is so good at the design,
I’l to oblige her give her one of mine.
My zealous urging of her Oath was done,
Not to prevent her plots, but hide my own.
I’l cherish her in all that she pretends,
So make her ayms but covers to my ends.
For when I’m seated on the Spartan Throne,
Both her and all her Treasons I’l disown:
Prove both her judge and her accuser too,
And on her my first act of justice do.
So all my doubts and fears will be o’re-past,
And by her fall I fix my self more fast.
[Exit.
Enter a Chair of State with a Table by it, and upon that the Crown and Scepter.
Enter King and Lords.
King.
My Lords, no more, w’ave drank too deep; I’d now
A while be private.
Lords.
— Royal Sir, we go.
King.
Boy take thy Lute, and with a pleasing ayr
Appease my sorrows, and delude my care.
[Sits down.
SONG.
Princes that Rule and Empires Sway,
How transitory is their State!
Sorrowes thee gloryes do allay,
And richest Crowns have greatest weight.
2
The mightiest Monarch treason fears,
Ambitious thoughts within him rave;
His life all discontent and cares;
And he at best is but a Slave.
3.
Vainly we think with fond delight,
To ease the burden of our cares.
Lach grief a Second does invite,
And sorrows are each others heirs.
4.
For me my honour I’l maintain,
Be gallant generous and brave;
And when I Quietude would gain,