Max.Is this the effect of all your boasted skill?These brittle toys to execute my will?A puppet-shew of death I only find,Where I a strong and sinewy pain designed.By what weak infant was this engine wrought?Val.From Bilbilis the tempered steel was brought;Metal more tough the anvil ne'er did beat,Nor, from the forge, did hissing waters heat.Plac.I saw a youth descend all heavenly fair,Who in his hand a flaming sword did bear,And, whirlwind-like, around him drove the air.At his raised arm the rigid iron shook,And, bending backwards, fled before the stroke.Max.What! miracles, the tricks of heaven to me?I'll try if she be wholly iron free.If not by sword, then she shall die by fire;And one by one her miracles I'll tire.If proof against all kind of death she be;My love's immortal, and she's fit for me.S. Cath.No, heaven has shewn its power, and now thinks fitThee to thy former fury to remit.Had providence my longer life decreed,Thou from thy passion hadst not yet been freed.But heaven, which suffered that, my faith to prove,Now to itself does vindicate my love.A power controuls thee, which thou dost not see;And that's a miracle it works in thee.Max.The truth of this new miracle we'll try;To prove it, you must take the pains to die.Bring me their heads.Fel.That mercy, tyrant, thou deny'st to me,At thy last breath may heaven refuse to thee!My fears are going, and I death can view:I see, I see him there thy steps pursue,And, with a lifted arm, and silent pace,Stalk after thee, just aiming in his chace.S. Cath.No more, dear mother; ill in death it shewsYour peace of mind by rage to discompose:No streak of blood (the relics of the earth)Shall stain my soul in her immortal birth;But she shall mount all pure, a white and virgin mind,And full of all that peace, which there she goes to find.
Max.Is this the effect of all your boasted skill?These brittle toys to execute my will?A puppet-shew of death I only find,Where I a strong and sinewy pain designed.By what weak infant was this engine wrought?
Val.From Bilbilis the tempered steel was brought;Metal more tough the anvil ne'er did beat,Nor, from the forge, did hissing waters heat.
Plac.I saw a youth descend all heavenly fair,Who in his hand a flaming sword did bear,And, whirlwind-like, around him drove the air.At his raised arm the rigid iron shook,And, bending backwards, fled before the stroke.
Max.What! miracles, the tricks of heaven to me?I'll try if she be wholly iron free.If not by sword, then she shall die by fire;And one by one her miracles I'll tire.If proof against all kind of death she be;My love's immortal, and she's fit for me.
S. Cath.No, heaven has shewn its power, and now thinks fitThee to thy former fury to remit.Had providence my longer life decreed,Thou from thy passion hadst not yet been freed.But heaven, which suffered that, my faith to prove,Now to itself does vindicate my love.A power controuls thee, which thou dost not see;And that's a miracle it works in thee.
Max.The truth of this new miracle we'll try;To prove it, you must take the pains to die.Bring me their heads.
Fel.That mercy, tyrant, thou deny'st to me,At thy last breath may heaven refuse to thee!My fears are going, and I death can view:I see, I see him there thy steps pursue,And, with a lifted arm, and silent pace,Stalk after thee, just aiming in his chace.
S. Cath.No more, dear mother; ill in death it shewsYour peace of mind by rage to discompose:No streak of blood (the relics of the earth)Shall stain my soul in her immortal birth;But she shall mount all pure, a white and virgin mind,And full of all that peace, which there she goes to find.
[Exeunt StCatharineandFelicia,withValerius,and guards. The scene shuts.
Max.She's gone, and pulled my heart-strings as she went.Were penitence no shame, I could repent.Yet, 'tis of bad example she should live;For I might get the ill habit to forgive.Thou soft seducer of my heart, away——Who ling'ring would'st about its confines stay,To watch when some rebellion would begin,And ready at each sigh to enter in.In vain; for thouDost on the outside of the body play,And, when drawn nearest, shalt be whirl'd away.What ails me, that I cannot lose thy thought!——Command the empress hither to be brought;[ToPlac.I in her death shall some diversion find,And rid my thoughts at once of womankind.Plac.'Tis well he thinks not of Porphyrius yet.[Aside, Exit.Max.How hard it is this beauty to forget!My stormy rage has only shook my will:She crept down lower, but she sticks there still.Fool that I am to struggle thus with love!Why should I that, which pleases me, remove?True, she should die, were she concerned alone;But I love, not for her sake, but my own.Our Gods are Gods, 'cause they have power and will;Who can do all things, can do nothing ill.Ill is rebellion 'gainst some higher power:The world may sin, but not its emperor.My empress then shall die, my princess live;If this be sin, I do myself forgive.
Max.She's gone, and pulled my heart-strings as she went.Were penitence no shame, I could repent.Yet, 'tis of bad example she should live;For I might get the ill habit to forgive.Thou soft seducer of my heart, away——Who ling'ring would'st about its confines stay,To watch when some rebellion would begin,And ready at each sigh to enter in.In vain; for thouDost on the outside of the body play,And, when drawn nearest, shalt be whirl'd away.What ails me, that I cannot lose thy thought!——Command the empress hither to be brought;[ToPlac.
I in her death shall some diversion find,And rid my thoughts at once of womankind.
Plac.'Tis well he thinks not of Porphyrius yet.[Aside, Exit.
Max.How hard it is this beauty to forget!My stormy rage has only shook my will:She crept down lower, but she sticks there still.Fool that I am to struggle thus with love!Why should I that, which pleases me, remove?True, she should die, were she concerned alone;But I love, not for her sake, but my own.Our Gods are Gods, 'cause they have power and will;Who can do all things, can do nothing ill.Ill is rebellion 'gainst some higher power:The world may sin, but not its emperor.My empress then shall die, my princess live;If this be sin, I do myself forgive.
To him,Valerius.
Val.Your will's obeyed; for, mighty emperor,The princess and her mother are no more.
Val.Your will's obeyed; for, mighty emperor,The princess and her mother are no more.
Max.She is not dead!
Val.Great sir, your will was so.
Max.That was my will of half an hour ago.But now 'tis altered; I have changed her fate,She shall not die.Val.Your pity comes too late.Betwixt her guards she seemed by bride-men led,Her checks with chearful blushes were o'erspread;When, smiling, to the axe she bowed her head,Just, at the stroke,Ætherial music did her death prepare,Like joyful sounds of spousals in the air;A radiant light did her crown'd temples gild,And all the place with fragrant scents was filled;The balmy mist came thickening to the ground,And sacred silence covered all around.But when (its work performed) the cloud withdrew,And day restored us to each other's view,I sought her head, to bring it on my spear;In vain I sought it, for it was not there;No part remained; but, from afar, our sightDiscovered in the air long tracts of light;Of charming notes we heard the last rebounds,And music dying in remoter sounds.Max.And dost thou thinkThis lame account fit for a love-sick king?Go, from the other world a better bring.[Kills him, then sets his foot on him, and speaks on.When in my breast two mighty passions strove,Thou had'st erred better in obeying love.'Tis true, that way thy death had followed too,But I had then been less displeased than now.Now I must live unquiet for thy sake;And this poor recompence is all I take.[Spurns the body.
Max.That was my will of half an hour ago.But now 'tis altered; I have changed her fate,She shall not die.
Val.Your pity comes too late.Betwixt her guards she seemed by bride-men led,Her checks with chearful blushes were o'erspread;When, smiling, to the axe she bowed her head,Just, at the stroke,Ætherial music did her death prepare,Like joyful sounds of spousals in the air;A radiant light did her crown'd temples gild,And all the place with fragrant scents was filled;The balmy mist came thickening to the ground,And sacred silence covered all around.But when (its work performed) the cloud withdrew,And day restored us to each other's view,I sought her head, to bring it on my spear;In vain I sought it, for it was not there;No part remained; but, from afar, our sightDiscovered in the air long tracts of light;Of charming notes we heard the last rebounds,And music dying in remoter sounds.
Max.And dost thou thinkThis lame account fit for a love-sick king?Go, from the other world a better bring.[Kills him, then sets his foot on him, and speaks on.
When in my breast two mighty passions strove,Thou had'st erred better in obeying love.'Tis true, that way thy death had followed too,But I had then been less displeased than now.Now I must live unquiet for thy sake;And this poor recompence is all I take.[Spurns the body.
Here the Scene opens, and discoversBereniceon a scaffold, the guards by her, and amongst themPorphyriusandAlbinus,like Moors, as all the guards are.Placidiusenters, and whispers the Emperor whilstPorphyriusspeaks.
Here the Scene opens, and discoversBereniceon a scaffold, the guards by her, and amongst themPorphyriusandAlbinus,like Moors, as all the guards are.Placidiusenters, and whispers the Emperor whilstPorphyriusspeaks.
Por.From Berenice I cannot go away,But, like a ghost, must near my treasure stay.
Por.From Berenice I cannot go away,But, like a ghost, must near my treasure stay.
Alb.Night and this shape secure them from their eyes.
Por.Have courage then for our bold enterprize.Duty and faith no tie on me can have,Since I renounced those honours which he gave.Max.The time is come we did so long attend,[ToBer.Which must these discords of our marriage end.Yet Berenice, remember you have beenAn empress, and the wife of Maximin.Ber.I will remember I have been your wife;And therefore, dying, beg from heaven your life:Be all the discords of our bed forgot,Which, virtue witness, I did never spot.What errors I have made, though while I liveYou cannot pardon, to the dead forgive.Max.How much she is to piety inclined!Behead her, while she's in so good a mind.Por.Stand firm, Albinus; now the time is comeTo free the empress.
Por.Have courage then for our bold enterprize.Duty and faith no tie on me can have,Since I renounced those honours which he gave.
Max.The time is come we did so long attend,[ToBer.
Which must these discords of our marriage end.Yet Berenice, remember you have beenAn empress, and the wife of Maximin.
Ber.I will remember I have been your wife;And therefore, dying, beg from heaven your life:Be all the discords of our bed forgot,Which, virtue witness, I did never spot.What errors I have made, though while I liveYou cannot pardon, to the dead forgive.
Max.How much she is to piety inclined!Behead her, while she's in so good a mind.
Por.Stand firm, Albinus; now the time is comeTo free the empress.
Alb.And deliver Rome.
Por.Within I feel my hot blood swell my heart,And generous trembling in each outward part.'Tis done, tyrant, this is thy latest hour.
Por.Within I feel my hot blood swell my heart,And generous trembling in each outward part.'Tis done, tyrant, this is thy latest hour.
[PorphyriusandAlbinusdraw,and are making at the Emperor.
Ber.Look to yourself, my lord the emperor!Treason, help, help, my lord!
Ber.Look to yourself, my lord the emperor!Treason, help, help, my lord!
[Maximinturns and defends himself, the Guardsset onPorphyriusandAlbinus.
Max.Disarm them, but their lives I charge you spare.[After they are disarmed.Unmask them, and discover who they are.—Good Gods, is it Porphyrius whom I see!
Max.Disarm them, but their lives I charge you spare.[After they are disarmed.
Unmask them, and discover who they are.—Good Gods, is it Porphyrius whom I see!
Plac.I wonder how he gained his liberty.
Max.Traitor!
Por.Know, tyrant, I can hear that name,Rather than son, and bear it with less shame.Traitor's a name, which, were my arm yet free,The Roman senate would bestow on thee.Ah, madam, you have ruined my design,[ToBer.And lost your life; for I regard not mine.Too ill a mistress, and too good a wife.
Por.Know, tyrant, I can hear that name,Rather than son, and bear it with less shame.Traitor's a name, which, were my arm yet free,The Roman senate would bestow on thee.Ah, madam, you have ruined my design,[ToBer.
And lost your life; for I regard not mine.Too ill a mistress, and too good a wife.
Ber.It was my duty to preserve his life.
Max.Now I perceive[ToPor.In what close walk your mind so long did move:You scorned my throne, aspiring to her love.Ber.In death I'll own a love to him so pure,As will the test of heaven itself endure;A love so chaste, as conscience could not chide;But cherish it, and keep it by its side.A love, which never knew a hot desire,But flamed as harmless as a lambent fire;A love, which pure from soul to soul might pass,As light transmitted through a crystal glass;Which gave Porphyrius all without a sin,Yet kept entire the right of Maximin.Max.The best return that I to both can make,Shall be to suffer for each other's sake.Por.Barbarian, do not dare, her blood to shed,Who from my vengeance saved thy cursed head;A flight, no honour ever reached before,And which succeeding ages will adore.Ber.Porphyrius, I must die!That common debt to nature paid must be;But I have left a debt unpaid to thee.To MaximinI have performed the duty of a wife;But, saving his, I cast away thy life.Ah, what ill stars upon our loves did shine,That I am more thy murd'rer, than he mine!
Max.Now I perceive[ToPor.
In what close walk your mind so long did move:You scorned my throne, aspiring to her love.
Ber.In death I'll own a love to him so pure,As will the test of heaven itself endure;A love so chaste, as conscience could not chide;But cherish it, and keep it by its side.A love, which never knew a hot desire,But flamed as harmless as a lambent fire;A love, which pure from soul to soul might pass,As light transmitted through a crystal glass;Which gave Porphyrius all without a sin,Yet kept entire the right of Maximin.
Max.The best return that I to both can make,Shall be to suffer for each other's sake.
Por.Barbarian, do not dare, her blood to shed,Who from my vengeance saved thy cursed head;A flight, no honour ever reached before,And which succeeding ages will adore.
Ber.Porphyrius, I must die!That common debt to nature paid must be;But I have left a debt unpaid to thee.To MaximinI have performed the duty of a wife;But, saving his, I cast away thy life.Ah, what ill stars upon our loves did shine,That I am more thy murd'rer, than he mine!
Max.Make haste.
Por.So hasty none in execution are,But they allow the dying time for prayer.Farewell, sweet saint! my prayer shall be to you:My love has been unhappy, but 'twas true.Remember me!—Alas, what have I said?You must die too!But yet remember me when you are dead.Ber.If I die first, I willStop short of heaven, and wait you in a cloud;For fear we lose each other in the crowd.Por.Love is the only coin in heaven will go:Then take all with you, and leave none below.Ber.'Tis want of knowledge, not of love, I fear;Lest we mistake when bodies are not there.O, as a mark, that I could wear a scroll,With this inscription,—Berenice's soul.Por.That needs not, sure, for none will be so bright,So pure, or with so small allays of light.Max.From my full eyes fond tears begin to start:——Dispatch,—they practise treason on my heart.Por.Adieu: This farewell sigh I as my last bequeath;Catch it,—'tis love expiring in a breath.Ber.This sigh of mine shall meet it half the way,As pledges given that each for other stay.
Por.So hasty none in execution are,But they allow the dying time for prayer.Farewell, sweet saint! my prayer shall be to you:My love has been unhappy, but 'twas true.Remember me!—Alas, what have I said?You must die too!But yet remember me when you are dead.
Ber.If I die first, I willStop short of heaven, and wait you in a cloud;For fear we lose each other in the crowd.
Por.Love is the only coin in heaven will go:Then take all with you, and leave none below.
Ber.'Tis want of knowledge, not of love, I fear;Lest we mistake when bodies are not there.O, as a mark, that I could wear a scroll,With this inscription,—Berenice's soul.
Por.That needs not, sure, for none will be so bright,So pure, or with so small allays of light.
Max.From my full eyes fond tears begin to start:——Dispatch,—they practise treason on my heart.
Por.Adieu: This farewell sigh I as my last bequeath;Catch it,—'tis love expiring in a breath.
Ber.This sigh of mine shall meet it half the way,As pledges given that each for other stay.
EnterValeriaandCydon.
Val.What dismal scene of death is here prepar'd!
Max.Now strike.
Val.They shall not strike till I am heard.
Max.From whence does this new impudence proceed,That you dare alter that which I decreed?Val.Ah, sir, to what strange courses do you fly,To make yourself abhorred for cruelty!The empire groans under your bloody reign,And its vast body bleeds in every vein.Gasping and pale, and fearing more, it lies;And now you stab it in the very eyes:Your Cæsar and the partner of your bed!Ah, who can wish to live when they are dead?If ever gentle pity touch'd your breast——I cannot speak—my tears shall speak the rest.[Weeping and sobbing.Por.She adds new grief to what I felt before,And fate has now no room to put in more.Max.Away, thou shame and slander of my blood![ToValeria.Who taught thee to be pitiful or good?Val.What hope have I,The name of virtue should prevail with him,Who thinks even it, for which I plead, a crime?—Yet nature, sure, some argument may be;If them you cannot pity, pity me.Max.I will, and all the world shall judge it so:I will the excess of pity to you shew.You ask to saveA dangerous rebel, and disloyal wife;And I in mercy—will not take your life.Val.You more than kill me by this cruelty,And in their persons bid your daughter die.I honour Berenice's virtue much;But for Porphyrius my love is such,I cannot, will not live, when he is gone.Max.I'll do that cure for you, which on myself is done.You must, like me, your lover's life remove;Cut off your hope, and you destroy your love.If it were hard, I would not bid you tryThe medicine; but 'tis but to let him die.Yet since you are so soft, (which you call good,)And are not yet confirmed enough in blood,To see his death;Your frailty shall be favoured with this grace,That they shall suffer in another place.If, after they are dead, their memoryBy any chance into your mind be brought,Laugh, and divert it with some other thought.Away with them.
Max.From whence does this new impudence proceed,That you dare alter that which I decreed?
Val.Ah, sir, to what strange courses do you fly,To make yourself abhorred for cruelty!The empire groans under your bloody reign,And its vast body bleeds in every vein.Gasping and pale, and fearing more, it lies;And now you stab it in the very eyes:Your Cæsar and the partner of your bed!Ah, who can wish to live when they are dead?If ever gentle pity touch'd your breast——I cannot speak—my tears shall speak the rest.[Weeping and sobbing.
Por.She adds new grief to what I felt before,And fate has now no room to put in more.
Max.Away, thou shame and slander of my blood![ToValeria.
Who taught thee to be pitiful or good?
Val.What hope have I,The name of virtue should prevail with him,Who thinks even it, for which I plead, a crime?—Yet nature, sure, some argument may be;If them you cannot pity, pity me.
Max.I will, and all the world shall judge it so:I will the excess of pity to you shew.You ask to saveA dangerous rebel, and disloyal wife;And I in mercy—will not take your life.
Val.You more than kill me by this cruelty,And in their persons bid your daughter die.I honour Berenice's virtue much;But for Porphyrius my love is such,I cannot, will not live, when he is gone.
Max.I'll do that cure for you, which on myself is done.You must, like me, your lover's life remove;Cut off your hope, and you destroy your love.If it were hard, I would not bid you tryThe medicine; but 'tis but to let him die.Yet since you are so soft, (which you call good,)And are not yet confirmed enough in blood,To see his death;Your frailty shall be favoured with this grace,That they shall suffer in another place.If, after they are dead, their memoryBy any chance into your mind be brought,Laugh, and divert it with some other thought.Away with them.
[ExeuntBerenice,Porphyrius,andAlbinus,carried off by Guards.
Val.Since prayers nor tears can bend his cruel mind,[Looking afterPor.Farewell, the best and bravest of mankind!How I have loved, heaven knows; but there's a fate,Which hinders me from being fortunate.My father's crimes hang heavy on my head,And like a gloomy cloud about me spread.I would in vain be pious; that's a grace,Which heaven permits not to a tyrant's race.
Val.Since prayers nor tears can bend his cruel mind,[Looking afterPor.
Farewell, the best and bravest of mankind!How I have loved, heaven knows; but there's a fate,Which hinders me from being fortunate.My father's crimes hang heavy on my head,And like a gloomy cloud about me spread.I would in vain be pious; that's a grace,Which heaven permits not to a tyrant's race.
Max.Hence to her tent the foolish girl convey.
Val.Let me be just before I go away.—Placidius, I have vowed to be your wife;Take then my hand, 'tis yours while I have life.—One moment here I must another's be;But this, Porphyrius, gives me back to thee.
Val.Let me be just before I go away.—Placidius, I have vowed to be your wife;Take then my hand, 'tis yours while I have life.—One moment here I must another's be;But this, Porphyrius, gives me back to thee.
[Stabs herself twice, and thenPlacidiuswrests the Dagger from her.
Plac.Help, help the princess, help!
Max.What rage has urged this act, which thou hast done?
Val.Thou, tyrant, and thy crimes, have pulled it on.Thou, who canst death with such a pleasure see,Now take thy fill, and glut thy sight in me.But—I'll the occasion of my death forget;Save him I love, and be my father yet:I can no more—Porphyrius, my dear—
Val.Thou, tyrant, and thy crimes, have pulled it on.Thou, who canst death with such a pleasure see,Now take thy fill, and glut thy sight in me.But—I'll the occasion of my death forget;Save him I love, and be my father yet:I can no more—Porphyrius, my dear—
Cyd.Alas, she raves, and thinks Porphyrius here.
Val.Have I not yet deserved thee, now I die?Is Berenice still more fair than I?Porphyrius, do not swim before my sight;Stand still, and let me, let me aim aright!Stand still, but while thy poor Valeria dies,And sighs her soul into her lover's eyes.[Dies.Plac.She's gone from earth, and with her went awayAll of the tyrant that deserved to stay:I've lost in her all joys that life can give;And only to revenge her death would live.[Aside.
Val.Have I not yet deserved thee, now I die?Is Berenice still more fair than I?Porphyrius, do not swim before my sight;Stand still, and let me, let me aim aright!Stand still, but while thy poor Valeria dies,And sighs her soul into her lover's eyes.[Dies.
Plac.She's gone from earth, and with her went awayAll of the tyrant that deserved to stay:I've lost in her all joys that life can give;And only to revenge her death would live.[Aside.
Cyd.The gods have claimed her, and we must resign.
Max.What had the Gods to do with me or mine?Did I molest your heaven?Why should you then make Maximin your foeWho paid you tribute, which he need not do?Your altars I with smoke of gums did crown,For which you leaned your hungry nostrils down,All daily gaping for my incense there,More than your sun could draw you in a year.And you for this these plagues on me have sent!But by the Gods, (by Maximin, I meant,)Henceforth I, and my world,Hostility with you, and yours, declare.Look to it, Gods; for you the aggressors are.Keep you your rain and sunshine in your skies,And I'll keep back my flame and sacrifice.Your trade of heaven shall soon be at a stand,And all your goods lie dead upon your hand.Plac.Thus, tyrant, since the Gods the aggressors are,[Stabbing him.Thus by this stroke they have begun the war.[Maximinstruggles with him, and gets the dagger from him.
Max.What had the Gods to do with me or mine?Did I molest your heaven?Why should you then make Maximin your foeWho paid you tribute, which he need not do?Your altars I with smoke of gums did crown,For which you leaned your hungry nostrils down,All daily gaping for my incense there,More than your sun could draw you in a year.And you for this these plagues on me have sent!But by the Gods, (by Maximin, I meant,)Henceforth I, and my world,Hostility with you, and yours, declare.Look to it, Gods; for you the aggressors are.Keep you your rain and sunshine in your skies,And I'll keep back my flame and sacrifice.Your trade of heaven shall soon be at a stand,And all your goods lie dead upon your hand.
Plac.Thus, tyrant, since the Gods the aggressors are,[Stabbing him.
Thus by this stroke they have begun the war.[Maximinstruggles with him, and gets the dagger from him.
Max.Thus I return the strokes which they have given;[StabbingPlacidius.Thus, traitor, thus, and thus I would to heaven.
Max.Thus I return the strokes which they have given;[StabbingPlacidius.
Thus, traitor, thus, and thus I would to heaven.
[Placidiusfalls, and the Emperor staggers after him, and sits down upon him; the Guards come to help the Emperor.
[Placidiusfalls, and the Emperor staggers after him, and sits down upon him; the Guards come to help the Emperor.
Max.Stand off, and let me, ere my strength be gone,Take my last pleasure of revenge, alone.
Max.Stand off, and let me, ere my strength be gone,Take my last pleasure of revenge, alone.
Enter a Centurion.
Cent.Arm, arm, the camp is in a mutiny:For Rome and liberty the soldiers cry.Porphyrius moved their pity, as he wentTo rescue Berenice from punishment;And now he heads their new attempted crime.Max.Now I am down, the Gods have watch'd their time.You thinkTo save your credit, feeble deities;But I will give myself the strength to rise.[He strives to get up, and, being up, staggers.It wonnot be——My body has not power my mind to bear.——I must return again—and conquer here.[Sits down upon the body.My coward body does my will controul;Farewell, thou base deserter of my soul!I'll shake this carcase off, and be obeyed;Reign an imperial ghostwithoutits aid.Go, soldiers, take my ensigns with you; fight,And vanquish rebels in your sovereign's right:Before I die——Bring me Porphyrius and my empress dead:—I would brave heaven, in my each hand a head.Plac.Do not regard a dying tyrant's breath,He can but look revenge on you in death.[To the Soldiers.Max.Vanquished, and dar'st thou yet a rebel be?Thus, I can more than look revenge on thee.[Stabs him again.Plac.Oh, I am gone![Dies.Max.And after thee I go,Revenging still, and following ev'n to the other world my blow;[Stabs him again.And shoving back this earth on which I sit,I'll mount, and scatter all the Gods I hit.[Dies.
Cent.Arm, arm, the camp is in a mutiny:For Rome and liberty the soldiers cry.Porphyrius moved their pity, as he wentTo rescue Berenice from punishment;And now he heads their new attempted crime.
Max.Now I am down, the Gods have watch'd their time.You thinkTo save your credit, feeble deities;But I will give myself the strength to rise.[He strives to get up, and, being up, staggers.
It wonnot be——My body has not power my mind to bear.——I must return again—and conquer here.[Sits down upon the body.
My coward body does my will controul;Farewell, thou base deserter of my soul!I'll shake this carcase off, and be obeyed;Reign an imperial ghostwithoutits aid.Go, soldiers, take my ensigns with you; fight,And vanquish rebels in your sovereign's right:Before I die——Bring me Porphyrius and my empress dead:—I would brave heaven, in my each hand a head.
Plac.Do not regard a dying tyrant's breath,He can but look revenge on you in death.[To the Soldiers.
Max.Vanquished, and dar'st thou yet a rebel be?Thus, I can more than look revenge on thee.[Stabs him again.
Plac.Oh, I am gone![Dies.
Max.And after thee I go,Revenging still, and following ev'n to the other world my blow;[Stabs him again.
And shoving back this earth on which I sit,I'll mount, and scatter all the Gods I hit.[Dies.
EnterPorphyrius, Berenice, Albinus,Soldiers.Porphyriuslooks on the Bodies entering, and speaks.
EnterPorphyrius, Berenice, Albinus,Soldiers.Porphyriuslooks on the Bodies entering, and speaks.
Por.Tis done before, (this mighty work of fate!)And I am glad your swords are come too late.He was my prince, and though a bloody one,I should have conquered, and have mercy shewn.Sheath all your swords, and cease your enmity;They are not foes, but Romans, whom you see.Ber.He was my tyrant, but my husband too;And therefore duty will some tears allow.Por.Placidius here!And fair Valeria, new deprived of breath!Who can unriddle this dumb-show of death?Cyd.When, sir, her father did your life deny,She killed herself, that she with you might die.Placidius made the emperor's death his crime;Who, dying, did revenge his death on him.
Por.Tis done before, (this mighty work of fate!)And I am glad your swords are come too late.He was my prince, and though a bloody one,I should have conquered, and have mercy shewn.Sheath all your swords, and cease your enmity;They are not foes, but Romans, whom you see.
Ber.He was my tyrant, but my husband too;And therefore duty will some tears allow.
Por.Placidius here!And fair Valeria, new deprived of breath!Who can unriddle this dumb-show of death?
Cyd.When, sir, her father did your life deny,She killed herself, that she with you might die.Placidius made the emperor's death his crime;Who, dying, did revenge his death on him.
[Porphyriuskneels, and takesValeria'shand.
Por.For thy dear sake, I vow, each week I live,One day to fasting and just grief I'll give:And what hard fate did to thy life deny,My gratitude shall pay thy memory.Cent.Meantime to you belongs the imperial power:We, with one voice, salute you emperor.
Por.For thy dear sake, I vow, each week I live,One day to fasting and just grief I'll give:And what hard fate did to thy life deny,My gratitude shall pay thy memory.
Cent.Meantime to you belongs the imperial power:We, with one voice, salute you emperor.
Sold.Long life, Porphyrius, emperor of the Romans!
Por.Too much, my countrymen; your love you shew,That you have thought me worthy to be so;But, to requite that love, I must take care,Not to engage you in a civil war.Two emperors at Rome the senate chose,And whom they chuse, no Roman should oppose.In peace or war, let monarchs hope or fear;All my ambition shall be bounded here.[KissingBerenice'shand.Ber. I have too lately been a prince's wife,And fear the unlucky omen of the life.Like a rich vessel, beat by storms to shore,'Twere madness should I venture out once more.Of glorious trouble I will take no part,And in no empire reign, but of your heart.Por.Let to the winds your golden eagles fly;[To the Soldiers.Your trumpets sound a bloodless victory:Our arms no more let Aquileia fear,But to her gates our peaceful ensigns bear;While I mix cypress with my myrtle wreath,—Joy for your life, and mourn Valeria's death.[Exeunt.
Por.Too much, my countrymen; your love you shew,That you have thought me worthy to be so;But, to requite that love, I must take care,Not to engage you in a civil war.Two emperors at Rome the senate chose,And whom they chuse, no Roman should oppose.In peace or war, let monarchs hope or fear;All my ambition shall be bounded here.[KissingBerenice'shand.
Ber. I have too lately been a prince's wife,And fear the unlucky omen of the life.Like a rich vessel, beat by storms to shore,'Twere madness should I venture out once more.Of glorious trouble I will take no part,And in no empire reign, but of your heart.
Por.Let to the winds your golden eagles fly;[To the Soldiers.
Your trumpets sound a bloodless victory:Our arms no more let Aquileia fear,But to her gates our peaceful ensigns bear;While I mix cypress with my myrtle wreath,—Joy for your life, and mourn Valeria's death.[Exeunt.
SPOKEN BY
MRS ELLEN[O], WHEN SHE WAS TO BE CARRIED OFF
DEAD BY THE BEARERS.
TO THE BEARER.
Hold; are you mad? You damn'd confounded dog!I am to rise, and speak the epilogue.
Hold; are you mad? You damn'd confounded dog!I am to rise, and speak the epilogue.
TO THE AUDIENCE.
I come, kind gentlemen, strange news to tell ye;I am the ghost of poor departed Nelly.Sweet ladies, be not frighted; I'll be civil,I'm what I was, a little harmless devil.For, after death, we spirits have just such natures,We had, for all the world, when human creatures;And, therefore, I, that was an actress here,Play all my tricks in hell, a goblin there.Gallants, look to't, you say there are no sprites;But I'll come dance about your beds at nights.And faith you'll be in a sweet kind of taking,When I surprise you between sleep and waking.To tell you true, I walk, because I dieOut of my calling, in a tragedy.O poet, damn'd dull poet, who could proveSo senseless, to make Nelly die for love!Nay, what's yet worse, to kill me in the primeOf Easter-term, in tart and cheese-cake time!I'll fit the fop; for I'll not one word say,To excuse his godly out-of-fashion play;A play, which, if you dare but twice sit out,You'll all be slandered, and be thought devout.But, farewell, gentlemen, make haste to me,I'm sure e'er long to have your company.As for my epitaph when I am gone,I'll trust no poet, but will write my own:—Here Nelly lies, who, though she lived a slattern,Yet died a princess, acting in St Catharine.
I come, kind gentlemen, strange news to tell ye;I am the ghost of poor departed Nelly.Sweet ladies, be not frighted; I'll be civil,I'm what I was, a little harmless devil.For, after death, we spirits have just such natures,We had, for all the world, when human creatures;And, therefore, I, that was an actress here,Play all my tricks in hell, a goblin there.Gallants, look to't, you say there are no sprites;But I'll come dance about your beds at nights.And faith you'll be in a sweet kind of taking,When I surprise you between sleep and waking.To tell you true, I walk, because I dieOut of my calling, in a tragedy.O poet, damn'd dull poet, who could proveSo senseless, to make Nelly die for love!Nay, what's yet worse, to kill me in the primeOf Easter-term, in tart and cheese-cake time!I'll fit the fop; for I'll not one word say,To excuse his godly out-of-fashion play;A play, which, if you dare but twice sit out,You'll all be slandered, and be thought devout.But, farewell, gentlemen, make haste to me,I'm sure e'er long to have your company.As for my epitaph when I am gone,I'll trust no poet, but will write my own:—Here Nelly lies, who, though she lived a slattern,Yet died a princess, acting in St Catharine.
[A]Swash-bucklerseems to have been a title for those, who retained the old blunt manners of Queen Elizabeth's time, when sword and buckler were the common weapons. "Of old, when Englishmen were fenced with bucklers, as with a rampier, nothing was more common with them, than to fight about taking the right or left hand on the wall, or upon any unpleasing countenance: clashing of swords was then daily music in every street."Moryson'sItinerary, Part III. Book iv.—The buckler was disused in the latter end of Queen Elizabeth's reign; but those who affected the old-fashioned, blunt, boisterous manners, common when that ancient weapon was used in brawls, were, like old Moody in the play, still termedSwash-bucklers.
[A]Swash-bucklerseems to have been a title for those, who retained the old blunt manners of Queen Elizabeth's time, when sword and buckler were the common weapons. "Of old, when Englishmen were fenced with bucklers, as with a rampier, nothing was more common with them, than to fight about taking the right or left hand on the wall, or upon any unpleasing countenance: clashing of swords was then daily music in every street."Moryson'sItinerary, Part III. Book iv.—The buckler was disused in the latter end of Queen Elizabeth's reign; but those who affected the old-fashioned, blunt, boisterous manners, common when that ancient weapon was used in brawls, were, like old Moody in the play, still termedSwash-bucklers.
[B]This song is translated from Voiture.
[B]This song is translated from Voiture.
[C]An excellent critical essay upon the beauties and defects of Davenant's epic, may be found in Aikin's Miscellanies. Those who are insensible to theme rits of the poem, may admire the courage of the author, who wrote some part of it when he conceived himself within a week of being hanged. A tradition prevails, that his life was saved by Milton, whose life, in return, he saved at the Restoration. Were the story true, how vast was the requital!
[C]An excellent critical essay upon the beauties and defects of Davenant's epic, may be found in Aikin's Miscellanies. Those who are insensible to theme rits of the poem, may admire the courage of the author, who wrote some part of it when he conceived himself within a week of being hanged. A tradition prevails, that his life was saved by Milton, whose life, in return, he saved at the Restoration. Were the story true, how vast was the requital!
[D]As, "Peace and the But," &c.
[D]As, "Peace and the But," &c.
[E]A task imposed on us.
[E]A task imposed on us.
[F]This personage, who has bequeathed his name to a well-known tune, is believed to have been Simon Wadloe, or Wadlow, master of the Devil Tavern, when frequented by Ben Jonson.
[F]This personage, who has bequeathed his name to a well-known tune, is believed to have been Simon Wadloe, or Wadlow, master of the Devil Tavern, when frequented by Ben Jonson.
[G]William Cavendish, duke of Newcastle, distinguished himself in the civil wars of Charles I. He might have possessed himself of Hull, had the king more early resolved on an open rupture with the parliament. When the war broke out, he levied an army of 8000 men, secured the northern counties for the king, and raised the siege of York. The invasion of the Scots prevented his farther success; but he defeated the parliamentary forces in several actions, and shewed all the talents of a great soldier. After the loss of the battle of Marston Moor, which Prince Rupert hazarded in opposition to his advice, he left England in disgust, and did not return till the Restoration. He was much respected when abroad, and acquired the favour of many princes, and, amongst others, of Don John of Austria. His skill in the equestrian art was, perhaps, as great a recommendation, as his noble birth and unstained loyalty. During the wars, he had been raised from the rank of earl to that of marquis; and after the Restoration he was created duke of Newcastle. He wrote several plays, of which we know only the names; "The Country Captain," "Variety," "The Humourous Lovers," and "The Triumphant Widow." He also translated Moliere's "L'Etourdi,"which our author converted into "Sir Martin Mar-all". But his most noted work is a splendid folio on Horsemanship, with engravings; in which, after his grace has been represented in every possible attitude and dress, he is at length depicted mounted on Pegasus, and in the act of ascending from a circle of Houyhnhnms, kneeling around him in the act of adoration.His once celebrated duchess was Margaret, daughter of Sir Charles Lucas. She was his grace's second wife, and married to him during his exile. A most voluminous author; she wrote nineteen plays, besides philosophical essays, letters, and orations. For the former she has condescended to leave the following apology:The Latin phrases I could never tell,But Jonson could, which made him write so well.Greek, Latin poets I could never read,Nor their historians, but our English Speed.I could not steal their wit, nor plots out-take,All my plays plots my own poor brain did make.From Plutarch's story I ne'er took a plot,Nor from romances, nor from Don Quixote.Her grace's assiduity was equal to her originality. She kept a bevy of maidens of honour, who were obliged, at all hours of the night, to attend the summons of her bell, with a light, and materials "to register her grace's conceptions," which, we beg the reader to understand, were all of a literary or philosophical nature.The good duchess's conceptions are now forgotten; but it should not be forgotten, that her kind solicitude soothed and supported her husband through a weary exile of eighteen years, when their fortunes were reduced to the lowest ebb. In gratitude, he appears to have encouraged her pursuits, and admired the productions of her muse. In the "Sessions of Poets" he is introduced as founding upon her literary pretensions, rather than his own.Newcastle and's horse for entrance next strives,Well-stuffed was his cloak-bag, and so was his breeches,And —— ——Pulled out his wife's poems, plays, essays, and speeches.Whoop! quoth Apollo, what a devil have we here?Put up thy wife's trumpery, good noble marquis,And home again, home again take thy career,To provide her fresh straw, and a chamber that dark is.Such were the noble personages whom Dryden deemed worthy of the fine strains of eulogy conveyed in this dedication.
[G]William Cavendish, duke of Newcastle, distinguished himself in the civil wars of Charles I. He might have possessed himself of Hull, had the king more early resolved on an open rupture with the parliament. When the war broke out, he levied an army of 8000 men, secured the northern counties for the king, and raised the siege of York. The invasion of the Scots prevented his farther success; but he defeated the parliamentary forces in several actions, and shewed all the talents of a great soldier. After the loss of the battle of Marston Moor, which Prince Rupert hazarded in opposition to his advice, he left England in disgust, and did not return till the Restoration. He was much respected when abroad, and acquired the favour of many princes, and, amongst others, of Don John of Austria. His skill in the equestrian art was, perhaps, as great a recommendation, as his noble birth and unstained loyalty. During the wars, he had been raised from the rank of earl to that of marquis; and after the Restoration he was created duke of Newcastle. He wrote several plays, of which we know only the names; "The Country Captain," "Variety," "The Humourous Lovers," and "The Triumphant Widow." He also translated Moliere's "L'Etourdi,"which our author converted into "Sir Martin Mar-all". But his most noted work is a splendid folio on Horsemanship, with engravings; in which, after his grace has been represented in every possible attitude and dress, he is at length depicted mounted on Pegasus, and in the act of ascending from a circle of Houyhnhnms, kneeling around him in the act of adoration.
His once celebrated duchess was Margaret, daughter of Sir Charles Lucas. She was his grace's second wife, and married to him during his exile. A most voluminous author; she wrote nineteen plays, besides philosophical essays, letters, and orations. For the former she has condescended to leave the following apology:
The Latin phrases I could never tell,But Jonson could, which made him write so well.Greek, Latin poets I could never read,Nor their historians, but our English Speed.I could not steal their wit, nor plots out-take,All my plays plots my own poor brain did make.From Plutarch's story I ne'er took a plot,Nor from romances, nor from Don Quixote.
The Latin phrases I could never tell,But Jonson could, which made him write so well.Greek, Latin poets I could never read,Nor their historians, but our English Speed.I could not steal their wit, nor plots out-take,All my plays plots my own poor brain did make.From Plutarch's story I ne'er took a plot,Nor from romances, nor from Don Quixote.
Her grace's assiduity was equal to her originality. She kept a bevy of maidens of honour, who were obliged, at all hours of the night, to attend the summons of her bell, with a light, and materials "to register her grace's conceptions," which, we beg the reader to understand, were all of a literary or philosophical nature.
The good duchess's conceptions are now forgotten; but it should not be forgotten, that her kind solicitude soothed and supported her husband through a weary exile of eighteen years, when their fortunes were reduced to the lowest ebb. In gratitude, he appears to have encouraged her pursuits, and admired the productions of her muse. In the "Sessions of Poets" he is introduced as founding upon her literary pretensions, rather than his own.
Newcastle and's horse for entrance next strives,Well-stuffed was his cloak-bag, and so was his breeches,And —— ——Pulled out his wife's poems, plays, essays, and speeches.Whoop! quoth Apollo, what a devil have we here?Put up thy wife's trumpery, good noble marquis,And home again, home again take thy career,To provide her fresh straw, and a chamber that dark is.
Newcastle and's horse for entrance next strives,Well-stuffed was his cloak-bag, and so was his breeches,And —— ——Pulled out his wife's poems, plays, essays, and speeches.Whoop! quoth Apollo, what a devil have we here?Put up thy wife's trumpery, good noble marquis,And home again, home again take thy career,To provide her fresh straw, and a chamber that dark is.
Such were the noble personages whom Dryden deemed worthy of the fine strains of eulogy conveyed in this dedication.
[H]This compliment is overstrained. But though Charles gained many advantages after the earl of Newcastle had left England, the north was irrecoverably lost to his cause.
[H]This compliment is overstrained. But though Charles gained many advantages after the earl of Newcastle had left England, the north was irrecoverably lost to his cause.
[I]The duchess wrote her husband's Life, which was translated into Latin. It is certainly the best of her grace's performances.
[I]The duchess wrote her husband's Life, which was translated into Latin. It is certainly the best of her grace's performances.
[J]Jonson and D'Avenant were both protected by the duke of Newcastle. Jonson has addressed several verses to him, and composed a Masque for the splendid entertainment which he gave to Charles I., at his house at Wellbeck, when the king was on his first northern journey.
[J]Jonson and D'Avenant were both protected by the duke of Newcastle. Jonson has addressed several verses to him, and composed a Masque for the splendid entertainment which he gave to Charles I., at his house at Wellbeck, when the king was on his first northern journey.
[K]For some account of the Duke of Monmouth, we refer our readers to the poem of Absalom and Achitophel, in which Dryden has described that unfortunate young nobleman under the character of Absalom.
[K]For some account of the Duke of Monmouth, we refer our readers to the poem of Absalom and Achitophel, in which Dryden has described that unfortunate young nobleman under the character of Absalom.
[L]See the Dedication to the "Indian Emperor."
[L]See the Dedication to the "Indian Emperor."
[M]See the prologue to this play.
[M]See the prologue to this play.
[N]We may be allowed to suspect that this resemblance was discoveredex post facto.
[N]We may be allowed to suspect that this resemblance was discoveredex post facto.
[O]The celebrated Mrs Nell Gwyn.
[O]The celebrated Mrs Nell Gwyn.
END OF THE THIRD VOLUME.
Edinburgh,
Printed by James Ballantyne & Co.
Transcriber's Notes:Obvious punctuation errors repaired.The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.P. 163 Original reads 'brigh'" changed to bright.P. 214 Original reads 'manes'" changed to names.P. 237 Original reads 'he'" changed to be.P. 267 Original reads 'guittars'" changed to guitars.p. 432. Original reads 'wishout'" changed to without.Also actioned:word 'scander-bag' taken out hyphen.word 'sun-shine', taken out hyphen.word 'sweet-heart', taken out hyphen.word 'rain-bow', taken out hyphen.Added hyphen to 'to-night'.Taken out hyphen for 'woman-kind', majority are 'womankind'.Taken out hyphen for 'moon-light', 'moonlight' present.Taken out hyphen for 'moon-shine', 'moonshine' present.Taken out hyphen for 'cap-storm', majority are 'capstorm'.Taken out hyphen for .before-hand', majority are 'beforehand'.
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.
P. 163 Original reads 'brigh'" changed to bright.
P. 214 Original reads 'manes'" changed to names.
P. 237 Original reads 'he'" changed to be.
P. 267 Original reads 'guittars'" changed to guitars.
p. 432. Original reads 'wishout'" changed to without.
Also actioned:
word 'scander-bag' taken out hyphen.word 'sun-shine', taken out hyphen.word 'sweet-heart', taken out hyphen.word 'rain-bow', taken out hyphen.Added hyphen to 'to-night'.Taken out hyphen for 'woman-kind', majority are 'womankind'.Taken out hyphen for 'moon-light', 'moonlight' present.Taken out hyphen for 'moon-shine', 'moonshine' present.Taken out hyphen for 'cap-storm', majority are 'capstorm'.Taken out hyphen for .before-hand', majority are 'beforehand'.