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Drive them like pikes-Ha, ha, ha!
Lys. Break not our hearts with such unkind Perd. How wild he talks !
expressions. Lys. Yet warring in his wildness.
Perd. We will not part with you, nor change Alex. Sound, sound, keep your ranks close;
for Mars. ay, now they come:
Aler. Perdiccas, take this ring, O the brave din, the noble clank of arms! And see me laid in the temple of Jupiter AmCharge, charge apace, and let the phalanx move; darius comes-ha! let me in, none Dare Lys. To whom does your dread majesty beTo cross my fury.-Philotas is -- uhorsed ; ay,
queath 'tis Darius;
The empire of the world? I see, I know him by the sparkling plumes, Aler. To him that is most worthy. And his gold chariot, drawn by ten white horses: Perd. When will you, sacred sir, that we should Bat, like a tempest, thus I pour upon him
give He bleeds ! with that last blow I brought him To your great memory those divine honours, down;
Which such exalted virtue does deserve? He tumbles! take him, snatch the imperial crown. Alex. When you are all most happy, and in They fly, they fly!- -follow, follow!--Victo
peace. ria! Victoria !
Your hands -- O father, if I have discharged Victoria ! -o let me sleep.
(Rises Perd. Let's raise him softly, and bear lim to The duty of a man to empire born; bis bed.
If, by unwearied toils, I have deserved Aler. Hold, the least motion gives me sudden The vast renown of thy adopted son, death;
Accept this soul, which thou didst first inspire, My vital spirits are quite parched up,
And which this sigh thus gives thee back again. And all my smoky entrails turned to ashes.
(Dies Lys. When you, the brightest star that ever Lys. Eumenes, cover the fallen majesty; shone,
If there be treason, let us find it out; Shall set, it must be night with us for ever. Lysimachus stands forth to lead you on,
Aler. Let me embrace you all before I die : And swears, by these most honoured dear reWeep not, my dear companions; the good gods
mains, Shall send you, in my stead, a nobler prince, He will not taste those joys which beauty brings, One that shall lead you forth with matchless con- Till we revenge the greatest, best of kings. duct.
WHÁTE'ER they mean, yet ought they to be curst, But for the youth in petticoats run wild,
sure meet: But what does more provoke the actor's rage, The woman in boy's clothes all boy shall be, (For we must shew the grievance of the stage) And never raise your thoughts above the knee. Is, that our women, which adorn each play, Well, if our women knew how false you are, Bred at our cost, become at length your prey: They would stay here, and this new trouble While green like trees we bear them
spare : all,
Poor souls! they think all gospel you relate, But when they're mellow, straight to you they Charmed with the noise of settling an estate; fall;
But when at last your appetites are full, You watch them bare and squab, and let them And the tired Cupid grows with action dull, rest,
You'll find some tricks to cut off the entail, But with the first young down you snatch the And send them back to us all worn and stale.
Perhaps they'll find our stage, while they have Pray leave those poaching tricks, if you are wise,
rang'd, Ere we take out one letter of reprise;
To some vile canting conventicle chang'd; For we have vowed to find a sort of toys Where, for the sparks who once resorted there, Known to black friars, a tribe of chopping boys; With their curld wigs that scented all the air, If once they come, they'll quickly spoil your They'll see grave blockheads with short greasy sport;
hair, There's not one lady will receive your court: Green aprons, steeple-hats, and collar-bands,
: Dull sniv'ling rogues that wring—not clap their | To their chopp'd cheeks their pickled kerchers hands;
hold, Where for gay punks that drew the shining Whose zeal too might persuade, in spite to you, crowd,
Our flying angels to augment their crew; And misses that in vizards laugh'd aloud, While Farringdon, their hero, struts about 'em, They'll hear young sisters sigh, see matrons old And ne'er a damning critic dares to flout 'em.
THE FORCE OF LOVE.
Wit long opprest, and fill'd at last with rage, True rogues, their own, not god's elect, command.
Meat helps, to reinforce a brother's blood;
eyes, Who into private chests whole nations drain? To rub him down, and make the spirit rise; What sums of gold they hoard, is daily known, While with his zeal transported from the ground, To all men's cost, and sometimes to their own. He mounts, and sanctifies the sisters round. Your lawyer too, that like an oyes ba wls, On poets only no kind star e'er smild; That drowns the market-higler in the stalls, Curst fate has damn'd 'em every mother's child: That seems begot, conceiv'd, and born in Therefore he warns his brothers of the stage, brawls,
To write no more for an ungrateful age. Yet thrives : he and his crowd get what they Think what penurious masters you have serv'd; please,
Tasso run mad, and noble Spencer starv'd: Swarming all term-time through the Strand Turn then, whoe're thou art that canst write like bees,
well, They buz at Westminster, and lie for fees. Thy ink to gall, and in lampoons excel. The godly too their ways of getting have, Forswear all honesty, traduce the great, But none so much as your fanatic knave: Grow impudent, and rail against the state ; Wisely the wealthiest livings they refuse, Bursting with spleen, abroad thy pasquils send, Who by the fattest bishoprics would lose; And chuse some libel-spreader for thy friend: Who with short hair, large ears, and small blue The wit and want of Timon point thy mind, band,
And for thy satyr-subject chuse mankind.
Today with Theodosius leave the world. SCENE I.-A stately Temple, which represents Leont. Methinks at such a glorious resignathe Christian religion, as in its first
tion, cence, veing but lately established at Rome and The angelic orders should at once descend, Constantinople. The side scenes shew the hor- In all the paint and drapery of heaven, rid tortures, with which the Roman tyrants With charming voices, and with lulling strings, persecuted the church; and the flat scene, To give full grace to such triumphant zeal. which is the limit of the prospect, discovers an Attic. No, Leontine; I fear there is a fault: altar richly adorned, before which Constantine For when I last confessed the emperor, is seen kneeling, with commanders about him, whether disgust and melancholy blood, gazing at a bloody cross in the air, which, being From restless passions, urg'd not this divorce? encompassed with many angels, offers itself to He only answered
He only answered me with sighs and blushes. vieu, with those words distinctly written, In 'Tis sure, his soul is of the tenderest make, hoc signo vinces ! instruments are heard, and Therefore I'll tax him strictly: but, my friend, many attendants. The ministers, at divine ser- Why should I give his character to you, vice, walk busily up and down, till ATTICUS, Who, when his father sent him into Persia, the chief of all the priests, and successor of St Were by that mighty monarch then appointed Chrysostom, in rich robes, comes forward with To breed him with his son, the prince Varanes. the philosopher LEONTINE; the waiters in Leont. And what will raise your admiration is, ranks, bowing all the way before him. That two such different tempers should
agree : You know that Theodosius is compos’d. A chorus heard at distance.
Of all the softness that should make a woman; Prepare, prepare ! the rites begin,
Judgment almost like fear fore-runs his actions, Let none Unhallowed enter in.
And he will poise an injury so long, The temple with new glory shines ;
As if he had rather pardon than revenge it: Adorn the altars, wash the shrines,
But the young Persian prince quite opposite, And purge the place from sin.
So fiery fierce, that those who view him nearly
May see his haughty soul still mounting in his Attic. O Leontine! was eyer morn like this, Since the celestial incarnation dawn'd?
Yet did I study these so different tempers, I think no day, since that, such glory gave,
Till I at last had formed a perfect union, To Christian altars, as this morning brings. As if two souls did but inform one body;
Leont. Great successor of holy Chrysostom, A friendship that may challenge all the world, Who now triumphs above, a saint of honour, And at the proof be matchless. Next in degree to those bright sons of heaven, Attic. I long to read Who never fell, nor stain'd their orient beams; This gallant prince, who, as you have informed me, What shall I answer? How shall I approach you comes from his father's court to see our emperor. Since my conversion, which your breath inspir'd ? Leont. So he intended till he came to Athens, Attic. To see, this day, the emperor of the And at my homely board beheld my daughter; east
Where, as fate ordered, she,-—who never saw Leave all the pleasures that the earth can yield, The glories of a court, bred up to books That nature can bestow, or art invent,
In closets like a Sybil, she, I say, In his life's spring, and bloom of gaudy years, Long since from Persia brought by me to Athens, To undergo the penance of a cloyster,
Unskill'd in charms, but those which nature gave Confined to narrow rooms, and gloomy walks.
her, Fastings, and exercises of devotion,
Wounded this scornful prince. In short, he Which from his bed at midnight must awake
forced me him,
To wait him thither, with deep protestations, Methinks, O Leontine! is something more, That moment that bereft him of the sight, Than yet philosophy could ever reach.
Of Athenais, gave him certain death. Leont. True, Atticus ; you have amazd my
Enter VARANES and ATHENAIS. reason. Atliç. Yet more, to our religion's lasting ho. But see my daughter honoured with his prenour,
sence. Marina and Flayilla, two young virgins,
Vara. 'Tis strange, 0 Athenais! wond'rous all; Imperial born, cast in the fairest mould, Wondrous the shrines, and wonderful the altars! That e'er the hands of beauty form'd for woman; The martyrs, though but drawn in painted flames, The mirrors of our court, where chastity, Amazę me with the image of their sufferings ; And innocence might copy spotless lustre; Saints canoniz'd that dared with Roman tyrants,
Hermits that liv'd in caves, and fed with angels,- | I fear would forfeit all his vows to heaven, By Orosmades, it is wond'rous all.
And fix upon thy world, thy world of beauty. That bloody cross, in yonder azure sky,
(Ereant. Above the head of kneeling Constantine, Inscribed about with golden characters,
Enter THEODOSIUS leading MARINA and FLA• Thou shalt o'ercome in this;' if it be true, VILLA (all three drest in white) followed by I say again, by heaven, 'tis wond'rous strange.
PULCHERIA. Åthen. O prince, if thus imagination stirs you, Theo. Farewell, Pulcheria! and I pray, to A fancy rais'd from figures in dead walls, How would the sacred breath of Atticus
For all thy kind complaints are lost upon me. Inspire your breast, purge all your dross away, Have I not sworn the world and I must part? And drive this Athenais from your soul,
Fate has proclaimed it, therefore weep no more; To make a virgin room, whom yet the mould Wound not the tenderest part of Theodosius, Of your rude fancy cannot comprehend ! My yielding soul, that would expire in calms ! Vara. What says my fair? Drive Athenais Wound me not with thy tears, and I will tell from me!
thee, Start me not into frenzy, lest I rail
Yet ere I take my last farewell for ever, At all religion, and fall out with heaven. The cause of all iny sufferings. Oh, my sister! And what is she, alas, that should supplant thee? A bleeding heart, the stings of pointed love, Were she the mistress of the world, as fair What constitution soft as mine can bear? As winter stars, or summer setting suns,
Pulch. My lord, my emperor, mỹ dearest broAnd thou set by in nature's plainest dress,
ther, With that chaste modest look when first I saw Why ah this while did you conceal it from me? thee,
Theo. Because I was ashamed to own my The heiress of a poor philosopher,
weakness; [ Recorders ready to flourish. I knew thy sharper wit, and stricter wisdom, I swear by all I wish, by all I love,
Would dart reproofs, which I could not endure. Glory and thee, I would not lose a thought, Draw near, o Atticus, and mark me well, Nor cast an eye that way, but rush to thee, For never yet did my complaining spirit To these loved arms, and lose myself for ever. Unload this weighty secret upon him, Athen. Forbear, my lord.
Nor groan a syllable of her oppression. Vara. O cruel Athenais!
Attic. Concealiment was a fault; but speak at Why dost thou put me off, who pine to death,
large, And thrust me from thee when I would approach Make bare the wound, and I will pour in balm. thee?
Theo. 'Tis folly all, and fondness.-0, remenCan there be aught in this ? Curse then thy
Why dost thou open thus my wound again, Thy glorious titles and ill-suited greatness, And from my heart call down those warmer drops Since Athenais scorns thee. Take again That make me die with shame? Hear then, PulYour i!l-timed honours; take’em, take 'em, gods !
cheria ! And change me to some humble villager, Some few preceding days before I left If so at last for toils at scorching noon, The Persian court, hunting onë morning early, In mowing meadows, or in reaping fields, I lost myself and all the company, At night she will but crown me with a smile, Still wandering on as fortune would direct me, Or reach the bounty of her hand to bless me. I pasta rivulet, and alighted in Athen. When princes speak, their subjects The.sweetest solitude I ever saw. should be silent ;
When straight, as if enchantment had been there, Yet with humility I would demand,
Two charming voices drew me, till I came Wherein appears my scorn, or my aversion ? Where divers arbours overlook'd the river. Have I not for your sake abandoned home, Upon the osier bank two women sate, Where I had vowed to spend my calmer days? Who, when their song was ended, talk'd to one, But you perhaps imagine it but little
Who, bathing, stood far in the crystal stream. For a poor maid to follow you abroad,
But oh, what thought can paint that fair perfecEspecially the daughter of old Leontine;
tion, Yet I must tell you, prince,
Or give a glimpse of such a naked glory! Vara. I cannot bear
Not sea-born Venus, in the courts beneath, Those frowns: I have offended, but forgive me. When the green nymphs first kiss'd her coral hips, For who, Athenais, that is toss'd
All polish’d, fair, and wash'd with orient beauty, With such tempestuous tides of love as I, Could in my dazzling fancy mateh hier brightness. Can steer a steady course? Retire, my fair, Attic. Think where you are.
[Recorders flourish. Theo, 0, sir, you muist forgive me! Hark! the solemnities are now beginning,
The chaste enthusiastic form appears, And Theodosius comes. Hide, hide thy charms! As when I saw her; yet I swear, Pulcheria, If to his clouded eyes such day should break, Had cold Diana been a looker-on, The royal youth, who dotes to death for love, She must have praised the virtues of the virgin