Constantine THE GREAT; A TRAGEDY.  
ACTED at the Theatre-Royal, By their Majesty's Servants.  
Written by NAT. LEE, Gent.  
LONDON, Printed by H. Hills Jun. for R. Bently, in Russel-Street, Covent-Garden, and J. Tonson, at the Judges-Head in Chancery-Lane near Fleetstreet. 1684.   

Dramatis Personae.  
COnstantine Mr. Smith. Dalmatius Mr. Griffin. Crispus Mr. Betterton. Annibal Mr. Goodman. Lycinius Mr. Wiltshire. Arius Mr. Gillo. Labienus Mr. Perin. Eubolus Mr. Saunders. Sylvester Mr. Bowman.  

WOMEN.  Fausta Mrs. Barrey. Serena Mrs. Cook.  
Angels, Priests, Guards, and Attendants.   

A Catalogue of PLAYS, Printed for R. Bentley.  

1. TArtuff, or the French Puritan.  
2. Forced Marriage, or the Jealous Bridegroom.  
3. English Monsieur.  
4. All mistaken, or the Mad Couple.  
5. Generous Enemies, or the Ridiculous Lovers.  
6. The Plain-Dealer.  
7. Sertorius, a Tragedy.  
8. Nero, a Tragedy.  
9 Sophonisba, or Hannibal's Overthrow.  
10. Gloriana, or the Court of Augustus Caesar.  
11. Alexander the Great.  
12. Mithridates, King of Pontus.  
13. Oedipus, King of Thebes.  
14. Caesar Borgia.  
15. Theodosius, or the Force of Love.  
16. Madam Fickle, or the Witty False One.  
17. The Fond Husband, or the Plotting Sisters.  
18. Esquire Old Sap, or the Night Adventures.  
19 Fool turned Critic.  
20. Virtuous Wise, or Good Luck at last.  
21. The Fatal Wager.  
22. Andromache.  
23. Country Wit..  
24. Calisto, or the Chaste Nymph.  
25. Destruction of Jerusalem, in two Parts.  
26. Ambitious Statesman, or the Loyal Favourite.  
27. Misery of Civil War.  
28. The Murder of the Duke of Gloucester.  
29. Thyestes, a Tragedy.  
30. Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, a Tragedy.  
31. The Orphan, or the Unhappy Marriage.  
32. The Soldier's Fortune.  
33. Tamerlain the Great.  
34. Mr. Limberham, or the Kind Keeper.  
35. Mistaken Husband.  
36. Notes of Morocco by the Wits.  
37. Essex and Elizabeth, or the Unhappy Favourite.  
38. Virtue Betrayed, or Anna Bulleign.  
39 King Leer.  
40. Abdellazor, or the Moors Revenge.  
41. Town-Fop, or Sir Tim. Tawdery.  
42. Rare en tout, a French Comedy.  
43. Moor of Venice.  
44. Country Wife.  
45. City Politics.  
46. Duke of Guise.  
47. Rehearsal.  
48. King and no King.  
49. Philaster, or Love lies a Bleeding.  
50. Maid's Tragedy.  
51. Grateful Servant.  
52. Strange Discovery.  
53. Atheist, or the Second Part of the Soldier's Fortune.  
54. Wit without Money.  
55. Little Thief.  
56. Valiant Scot  
57 Constantine.  
58. Valentinian.  
59 Amorous Prince.  
60. Dutch Lovers.  
61. Woman Rules.  
62. Reformation.  
63. Hero and Leander.  
64. Love Tricks.  
65. Julius Caesar.  
66. Fatal Jealousy.  
67. Monsieur Ragou.    

PROLOGUE.  Spoken by Mr. Goodman. 
WHat think ye meant wise Providence, when first  
Poets were made? I'd tell you, if I durst,  
That 'twas in Contradiction to Heaven's Word,  
That when its Spirit o'er the Waters stirred,  
When it saw All, and said That All was good,  
The Creature Poet was not understood.  
For, were it worth the Pains of six long Days,  
To mould Retailers of dull Third-Day-Plays,  
That starve out threescore Years in hopes of Bays.  
'Tis plain they ne'er were of the first Creation,  
But came by mere Equiv'cal Generation.  
Like Rats in Ships, without Coition bred;  
As hated too as they are, and unfed.  
Nature their Species sure must needs disown,  
Scarce knowing Poets, less by Poets known.  
Yet this poor Thing, so scorned, and set at nought,  
Ye all pretend to, and would fain be thought.  
Disabled wasting Whoremasters are not  
Prouder to own the Brats they never got,  
Than Fumbling, Itching Rhimers of the Town,  
T' adopt some base-born Song that's not their own.  
Spite of his State, My Lord sometimes descends,  
To please the Importunity of Friends.  
The dullest he thought most for Business fit,  
'Twill venture his bought Place, to aim at Wit.  
And though he sinks with his Employs of State,  
Till Common Sense forsake him, he'll Translate.  
The Poet and the Whore alike complains,  
Of trading Quality, that spoils their Gains;  
The Lords will Write, and Ladies will have Swains.  
Therefore, all you who have Male Issue born,  
Under the Starving Sign of Capricorn;  
Prevent the Malice of their Stars in time,  
And warn them early from the Sin of Rhyme:  
Tell 'em how Spencer starved, how Cowley mourned,  
How Butler's Faith and Service was returned;  
And if such Warning they refuse to take,  
This last Experiment, O Parents, make!  
With Hands behind them see the Offender tied,  
The Parish Whip, and Beadle by his side.  
Then lead him to some Stall that does expose  
The Authors he loves most, there rub his Nose;  
Till like a Spaniel lashed, to know Command,  
He by the due Correction understand,  
To keep his Brains clean, and not foul the Land.  
Till he against his Nature learn to strive,  
And get the Knack of Dullness how to thrive.   

EPILOGUE.  Spoken by Mrs. COOK. 
OUr Hero's happy in the Plays Conclusion,  
The holy Rogue at last has met Confusion:  
Though Arius all along appeared a Saint,  
The last Act showed him a true Protestant.  
Eusebius, (for you know I read Greek Authors)  
Reports, that after all these Plots and Slaughters,  
The Court of Constantine was full of Glory,  
And every Trimmer turned Addressing Tory;  
They followed him in Herds as they were mad:  
When Clause was King, than all the World was glad.  
whigs kept the Places they possessed before,  
And most were in a way of getting more;  
Which was as much as saying, Gentlemen,  
Here's Power and Money to be Rogues again.  
Indeed there were a sort of peaking Tools,  
Some call them Modest, but I call 'em Fools,  
Men much more Loyal, though not half so loud;  
But these poor Devils were cast behind the Crowd.  
For bold Knaves thrive without one Grain of Sense,  
But good Men starve for want of Impudence.  
Besides all these, there were a sort of Wights,  
(I think my Author calls them Teckelites;)  
Such hearty Rogues against the King and Laws,  
They favoured even a Foreign Rebel's Cause.  
When their own damned Design was quashed and awed,  
At least they gave it their good Word abroad.  
As many a Man, who, for a quiet Life,  
Breeds out his Bastard, not to nose his Wife.  
Thus o'er their Darling Plot these Trimmers cry;  
And though they cannot keep it in their Eye,  
They bind it Prentice to Count Teckely.  
They believe not the last Plot, may I be cursed,  
If I believe they e'er believed the first.  
No wonder their own Plot, no Plot they think;  
The Man that makes it, never smells the Stink.  
And, now it comes into my Head, I'll tell  
Why these damned Trimmers loved the Turks so well.  
The Original Trimmer, though a Friend to no Man,  
Yet in his Heart adored a pretty Woman:  
He knew that Mahomet laid up for ever,  
Kind Black-eyed Rogues, for every true Believer:  
And, which was more than mortal Man e'er tasted,  
One Pleasure that for threescore Twelvemonths lasted:  
To turn for this, may surely be forgiven:  
who'd not be circumcised for such a Heaven!   

Miscellany Poems, containing a new Translation of Virgil's Eclogues, Ovid's Love-Elegies, Odes of Horace, and other Authors. By several Hands.  
Poems upon several Occasions; with a Voyage to the Land of Love. By Mrs. A. Behn.  
Both printed for J. Tonson, at the Judge's-Head in Chancery-Lane, near Fleetstreet.   

Constantine THE GREAT.  


The First Act. Scene. 1st.  Constantine sleeping in a Pavilion, Silvester standing at distance, two Angels descend with Banners in their hands. This Motto, In hoc signo vince, Writ in Gold. Sing. 1. Ang. 
AWake: O Constantine! awake;  
Or in thy sleep the Prospect take!  
Here in this hallowed streaming Gold,  
The Prospect of thy Life behold:  
This Emblem of a bleeding Love,  
Shall both thy Cross and Triumph prove.  
For, alas! 'tis decreed by the Heavenly Doom,  
To purge thy past Crimes, there's a Torment to come.  2. Ang. 
Yet, after the Storm, believe in me,  
No more disturbed thy thoughts shall be,  
But all Serene as a breathless Sea.  Chor. 
And still thy Handmaid Victory,  
Where ere thou go'st, shall wait on thee;  
And all shall end in Harmony.  3. Ang. speaks. 
Awake, and ponder the Celestial Song;  
Thy vowed Conversion is delayed too long.  
Awake; remember the Celestial Doom,  
That threatened Torments, and a Cross to come.  
Yet after all the Menaces of Fate,  
Be washed: And Calms shall on those Tempests wait,  
For true Repentance never comes too late.  Angels ascend. Constantine awakes. Const. 
Stay! I adjure you, by the Holy Name,  
That bows your Airy Heads; I charge you stay:  
They're gone: Those Beauteous Legates of the Skies;  
And left me puzzling here to die in doubt,  
Unless Silvester guide me with a Clew,  
Through the dark Mazes of this folding Dream.  Silu. 
To purge your past Crimes, there's a Torment to come.  
Ay, there the Torment too repeated thrice.  Const. 
But say, what Torment?  Silu. 
A dangerous Torment, governed by ill Stars:  
Which were I Emperor should be soon prevented.  Const. 
By Heaven it shall by me.  Silu. 
You must not Swear,  
Lest you should be forsworn.  Const. 
If Heaven require  
My Life as an Atonement for my Sins:  
Lead to the Altar, Saint, and I will bleed.  Silu. 
I dare believe you would: But this is more.  Const. 
More than my Life: Why, then 'tis Reputation.  
But I have learned in Christian Schools to lay  
My Honour down. And own myself a Worm.  
To wash the Pilgrim's Feet, to bid the Saints  
Tread on this Earth: This trash, this heap of Sin.  Silu. 
But there's a Bosom Foe to Conquer yet,  
And there's my fear.  Const. 
Your fear, my Saint, after what I have said?  Silu. 
My fear, my Emperor, though you had sworn;  Const. 
Had I a Race of Sons like Crispus dear,  
Hope of my vows, my Soldier and my Love  
Early Renowned, and Pious from the Womb:  
Yet were my Bowels Foes to that Religion,  
Whose Infant growth I watered with my Blood,  
I Swear by Heaven, they should be mine no more.  Silu. 
Your Son's the Angel's care, and when he dies,  
The foremost of the Choir shall meet him with a Crown.  
But have you not a Wife?  Const. 
You know I had  
A dear one, and by much my better part.  Silu. 
But have you not another?  Const. 
When she died,  
All Beauty-fled with her.  Silu. 
This Beauty lives:  
Can you deny a Truth?  Const. 
Silvester, why?  
Why dost thou press me thus, to my Confusion?  Silu. 
Because this Beauty, Sir, may bring confusion.  Const. 
Large as an Angel's knowledge, be your own,  
And at one View, receive whole Nature in,  
Yet if you tax my Choice, with least dishonour,  
I must declare you wrong her.  Silu. 
Then you are at least contracted to Maximinus' Daughter:  
A Heathen born?  Const. 
But bred a Cherubin,  
She has all the Beauties, of her Sex below;  
And equal Virtues, with the blessed above.  Silu. 
Dares Constantine, the Christian so Renowned,  
Say this to me?  Const. 
Dares any Saint deny't?  Silu. 
That Fausta is not Guilty!  Const. 
Ha! of what?  Silu. 
Of all the ills, that shall attend your Life.  
Of all——  Const. 
Hold, hold— lest I fall out with Heaven.  Silu. 
Of all the Blots, that shall in after times  
Stain your white Character, and blast your Fame:  
While weeping Readers shall lament your Story.  
Therefore away with her.  Const. 
First, let me die.  
Penurious Heaven; and Oh! thou Niggard Saint,  
Did I not Offer you my Darling Son,  
With all my Race, as Victims to your Shrines  
If they were Guilty in a point of Faith,  
To wash their Heresies with Royal Blood?  
And do you grudge me one, but one poor Pleasure,  
For all the Pains of my Unwearied Wars?  
Then take my Life, take Empire, Glory, all,  
Take all I offered this Ungrateful Priest,  
Who in requital, will allow me nothing.  Silu. 
Forgive me Heaven! my too officious Care,  
For interposing, in thy dark Decrees:  
In Christian patience, he is yet but young.  
Chastise him now: And make the Trial strong.  Const. 
What have I said, that I am past forgiveness?  
Your Silence argues me undone for ever:  
Yet think me not, so lost in desperate Love,  
But while offending I can kneel for Pardon.  Silu. 
What I have offered to your Choice,  
Was not Commissioned me to say from Heaven;  
Therefore the pardon must be mutual.  
All I have urged was but a thoughtful boding:  
No more of that; be happy in your Love.  Const. 
Oh! you have Charmed me into Life again;  
And fear not but she shall become a Christian;  
I must confess, that yet she is a Heathen,  
As such I Loved Her, in Her Father's Court,  
Where first we Plighted vows in Arius hands  
But the dark Contract was so close Contrived,  
I wonder how you reached the Truth so soon:  
But Heaven revealed it, or you could not know it;  
Since I may swear, She is not yet enjoyed.  Silu. 
By you!  Const. 
By me? Your answer's short and home:  
Who should possess her else?  Silu. 
Young and a Heathen?  
Left in the Sensual Maximians Court?  Const. 
No, Sir; She's Guarded, and secure at Rome;  
Crispus, not yet acquainted with our Contract,  
Is sent in show, for I had other purpose,  
To make his Judgement of my Fausta's Person,  
Whether to be preserved, or like Her Father,  
To hinder Insurrections, be destroyed,  
But hark! What March is this? Perhaps 'tis he!  
And these his Trumpets, with the Legions Raised.  Trumpets without. Enter Arius, and Eubolus. Both. 
Long live the Emperor.  Const. 
Is Crispus come,  
With those Auxiliar Legions we required;  
And Money sent to pay the last Arrears?  Ari. 
Nothing obeyed: When first your Orders came,  
Which by your Brother were in the Forum Read;  
I never saw so sudden a Revolt.  
At once they Cried, our Liberty's betrayed,  
Our Courts of Justice robbed; Old Rights Infringed;  
Our Gods must down, our Shrines and Temples burn:  
And all for a fantastic, Old Wives Tale;  
A Cross they Cried, one of Silvesters Lies:  
Which never yet was seen by waking Eyes;  
But either feigned, or Dreamt of in the Skies.  Const. 
Is this their Answer to my strict Commands?  Ari. 
Crispus by this returned, to join your Brother;  
When straight some Devil whispered in their Ears,  
Your Son already had begun the Change,  
The Statue of Apollo was pulled down,  
To make his Father's Place: Whereon they cried  
Your Image should be Burnt, and with a breath  
The Cockle, and the Corn, bowed all that way.  Eub. 
But were reversed by a more Powerful Gale,  
Your Brother and your Son, appeared like Gods,  
And stopped the Madmen in their full Career.  Ari. 
At close of day, in Dark Cabals they met,  
And in the Morning gave their Final Answer;  
Lycinius, who that Night was brought a Captive,  
To grace the Triumph of your first appearance,  
Was first proposed, to share th' Imperial Power:  
Next they demand a general Persecution  
Of all the Christians, and Silvesters head.  Const. 
Tell'em their City shall be Ashes first,  
Have I for this, with hazard of my Life,  
So oft Redeemed 'em ' from their Tyrant's Racks,  
When all their Streets, were but one Hideous Grave;  
There Wives, and Daughter's Ravished in their View?  
When Age was drained of its last Ebbing drop,  
When Babes were snatched their Earliest breathe to give,  
And died ere knowing what it was to live.  Trumpets— Enter Dalmatius. 
More Treason— Arius, or do the Slaves Repent?  
My Brother here. Still to my Arms, and heart,  
Thou Nerve of all my Wars: How fares my Friend,  
And my beloved?  Dalm. 
Crispus, our care is well.  
And the late Tempest which must reach your Ear,  
By Skilful Pilots, Rocked into a Calm;  
Believe me Sir, your presence gains the Cause.  
Therefore upon the Instant march to Rome;  
Vanquished Licinius waits to Grace your Triumph.  
Bless me! Is't possible? Arius with you Sir?  
Arius the Traitor?  Const. 
Have you found him so?  Dalm. 
The Subtlest Snake, the softest Civil Villain  
That ever warmed himself in Princes— Bosom;  
Diseases, Blasts, Plagues, Death and Hell are in him:  
whate'er his outside seems: This shameless Traitor  
Was the foul Spring of all these poisoned Waters,  
That late had like to overflow the Empire;  
Yet while his Emissaries Fired the People;  
This Judas on my side, appeared an Angel:  
For after the first Mutiny was quelled;  
Though he had Sworn to Justify your Cause,  
He warned the Slaves, I have his hand to show,  
Next day to make those Impudent demands.  Ari. 
Plots on my Innocence; as I am a Christian,  
If ere I set my hand to such a Treason,  
May these rot off, which thus I hold to Heaven:  
As I am of Priestly Order.  Dalm. 
A Devil Ordained—  
Sir, if I do not prove him.  Const. 
I believe you,  
I know him Heretic, a Seditious Traitor,  
But yet have Reasons to defer his Ruin,  
Therefore no more at present. Arius hence;  
And let me hear no further of these Mischiefs.  
I have pardoned you; be gone, you Eubulus, and tell the Rebels,  
I come Embattled now for my Revenge;  
My Standard, and my Banners, bear the Cross  
Tell'em Lycinius, whom once before  
I took to Grace, and Married to my Sister,  
Their new Petitioned Caesar soon shall bleed.  Silu. 
Forgive your Enemies.  Const. 
But not my Friends:  
Lycinius was my Friend, and has betrayed me;  
Therefore I'll Execute him in their View.  
Away and warn him, for the Doom that's given.  Ex. Arius, Eubulus. 
'Tis not by halfs, that we will worship Heaven:  
No; my Dalmatius, I have made a vow,  
The Romans, or their Emperor shall bow.  
They're Subjects, and 'tis fit: Nay, bow they shall:  
Or Caesar in th' attempt, their Victim fall;  
Bow to the Man, whom Heaven Ordained for Sway,  
And in his great Vicegerent learn their Maker to Obey—  Exeunt.  

Scene II. ROME. Constantine's Palace.  Enter Lycinius; Labienas. Labi. 
The mischief's Ripe, and ready for our wish:  
Confusion to the House of Constantine;  
And Fortune points their Fate. For mark the Method  
The Father sends the Son to see the Prisoner;  
The Son, not knowing of his Father's Contract,  
Appears a God to Fausta's Charming Eyes,  
And Married her.  Lycin. 
How came you by the Secret?  Lab. 
Arius told me; he who Betrothed the Father Weds the Son,  
And stands for ever bound to serve Lycinius.  Lycin. 
He's Voted Heretic among the Christians.  Labie. 
No matter what they Vote him, Sir; He's yours,  
And Foe too all Religion, but his Friends.  Lycin. 
By Mars, he falls the Righter to my purpose.  
I was myself bred up in Blood and Wars,  
Untaught, and Scoffed at by these Civil Cowards,  
Wherefore I hate Religion, Arts, and Learning;  
And if I ever Mount the Caesar's Throne,  
I'll Raise another General Persecution,  
Like Nero; Bait these Christian Dogs to Death;  
And Build the Temples of the Old Gods again.  Labie. 
And be a God yourself: In the mean time,  
Let your Wife's tears prevail upon your Temper.  
Supple your Haughty Spirit, bow your Body,  
Low as the Earth, before the Emperor's Feet.  Lycin. 
I had rather die: If he thinks fit to save me,  
'Tis well; if not; why let him take my Head.  Labie. 
Yet for the sake of those, whom you must Govern,  
Rebate this Martial Fire, and hear your Wife:  
Hear what return our longed for Arius brings.  Enter Crispus, with Annibal. 
But soft! the Bridegroom, Crispus and his Friend:  
Constantia with impatience waits your coming;  
Constantia, who has Power to save your Head;  
Though Caesar with an Oath had Doomed you Dead.  Ex. Lycinius, Labienus. Crispus. 
How Annibal: What! out of temper now?  
When Crowns are offered, and the Caesar's Purple?  
What, though not born in the immediate way?  
Yet thou art Collaterally Great as I.  
And if I ever Heir this Spacious Empire,  
By Heaven, thou shalt not share, but guide, engross  
My hearts best Love, and all the World beside.  Anni. 
Your Heart? Ay there you Echoed my desires,  
every me there, and troll your empty Globe  
To those Crowned Slaves, that know no other Greatness:  
But tell me, O my Crispus! All men's Joy;  
Tell me, and truly from thy Generous Soul,  
Hast thou a Friend, whom more thou Lov'st then me?  Crisp. 
Not more beloved, more Fonded than myself,  
But more——  Anni. 
Nay add not, to that broken Truth,  
There's more in that, no more, than thou hadst Sworn.  Crisp. 
Wilt thou not hear me out?  Anni. 
There needs no more;  
Thou art no Friend, that Lov'st another more:  
Nay half so much: But now I find that all  
The former Flatteries of thy Glozing Friendship,  
Were Courtiers promises, and womens' Vows,  
But let me know his Name;  Crisp. 
Thy Father Annibal my Godlike Friend,  
Dalmatius, who before thou couldst Write Man,  
Hugged Crispus to his Heart: Like Lambs in Peace  
Together we lay down, together rose,  
In War like Lions, Coupled on a side;  
Ere yet thy Infant Arms, a Sword could Wield,  
And drove like Herds, the Nations from the Field.  Anni. 
Why then we're Friends again, more fast than ever,  
Yet since we have happened into this disorder,  
To make a Trial of renewed affection,  
I'll put thee to the Test.  Crisp. 
Name the Danger,  
Though Kin to Death, my Arm, Youngman, shall Right thee.  Anni. 
'Tis death indeed: Most certain Death to me,  
Unless thy Softening Charms, have power to save me.  Crisp. 
Speak this close grief: That wrings thee with the Anguish,  
If I am not Eloquent in such a Cause,  
Cut out my Tongue.  Annib. 
My life is in the hands  
Of one that hates me; or what wounds me more,  
Of one, my Crispus, that can never love me.  Crisp. 
Not love thee? O ye Powers! what heart is that?  Annib. 
Hast thou not seen the Beauteous Prisoners?  Crisp. 
Ha!  
What, Fausta meanest thou?  Annib. 
Fausta and Serena.  Crisp. 
Say which of 'em '? Which Beauty has Inflamed thee?  Annib. 
Which should, but the most soft and Artless melter?  
The Languishing—  Crisp. 
The killing Beauteous— Come—  Annib. 
Ha! Crispus thou art Concerned!  Crisp. 
I am to help thee—  
Her Name?  Annib. 
Why take it then, the Fair Serena.  Crisp. 
O She's the softest sweetest, killing Fair  
By Heaven— I am glad— I'm ravished that 'tis She!  
By this Embrace I promise thee success,  
I know her temper well— No more but leave me,  
I was upon the Instant when I met thee,  
Going to their Apartment;— Nay look up—  
And trust thy Friend.  Annib. 
Plead then for my Life,  
I beg thee as a God to plead my Cause;  
Thou canst not know o'th' sudden, how 'tis with me:  
How Great, how Mortal, and how deep the wound.  
May all the Saints, and Powers that pity Love,  
Inspire thy Breast, as if 'twere possible  
That Annibals' Soul could actuate thy body,  
So sigh, weep, languish, and for Mercy sue,  
As were I Crispus, I myself would do—  Ex. Annibal. Crisp. 
The Youth is Haughty, Martial, Hot and Brave;  
Right for the Field, unhappy parts for Love:  
Therefore perhaps, the Virgin likes him not.  
But thou hast luckier Stars: No sooner seen  
But liked— Loved, Married— Ha!— but where's the Transport?  
Without thy Father's knowledge thou wert Married:  
'Tis the first Fault of my unhappy youth,  
Yet 'tis a Fault— but 'tis the fault of Love.  
Had he not loved Crispus had not been here;  
Away, you Damps, and darkening Images.  
Be gone I say— Behold she comes to meet me;  Enter Fausta. 
Lag as I am, in this great Race of Love—  
O Fausta, Fausta!  Faust. 
O my Constantine!  Crisp. 
Ha!  Faust. 
A mistake; my fear outwent my Love.  Crisp. 
My Constantine! Thy fear— by Heaven 'twas Ominous:  
What cause hast thou to fear?  Faust. 
Bondage and Death.  
Are not those Reasons for a Virgin's fear?  Crisp. 
Yes for another, Fausta, not for thine.  
For Oh! when he has seen and heard like me,  
The Abstracted Charms of all this Beauteous World,  
Expect not death, but offers of a Throne.  Faust. 
'Tis possible: Yet by thyself I swear,  
By dear loved thee, my Crispus in a Cottage  
Shall be preferred to all the Thrones on Earth.  Crisp. 
And thou, forgive me Heaven! I had almost said  
To Heaven itself: No Fausta, that's the Jar,  
Religion makes this discord in my Soul.  
I find it now. Hence come my Starts and fears,  
Even in the height of my expected joys  
But Time, the Saints and Miracles must win thee.  Faust. 
No Time, no Miracle, no Saint but thou:  
Why, thou art all the Wonders of the Earth,  
My Saint, my heart's Religion, and my Heaven;  
With thee I am embarked to live or Perish,  
Not only here but in the World hereafter.  Crisp. 
Oh Extacy! Oh pattern for thy Sex:  
Yet shalt thou Master me by this Subjection  
Give me thy hand. Thy Lip— the sweets are Richer,  
The taste Ennobled. Oh! my ravished Love  
Glows with the pointed Charms. The Heavens are opened  
And I behold thee Crowned a Saint already.  
But I will hold thee fast, lest that the Angels snatch thee:  
Ere we have mingled Souls—  Faust. 
Oh not to Night!  Crisp. 
Ha! not to night? Not on this Loved Confession?  
Not when thou hast set my Spirits all on fire?  
Not now enjoy thee? Thou mak'st my fears return,  
Far more Extravagant than they were before.  
Lest e'er we join an Apoplex should seize me,  
The Palace fall, and thousand other Chances,  
That awe th' Imagination of my Love.  
Oh Come—  Faust. 
I will, and with these longing arms  
Hold thee till Morn: And from that Morn till Evening:  
From Evening to Midday: From day to Night:  
From Night to Death— I'll clap thee thus for ever.  Crisp. 
Let's haste then, while the beckoning Minute smiles.  Faust. 
But I must swear thee first:  Crisp. 
Take Oath on Oath:  
I swear to obey thee without asking why.  Faust. 
Swear thou wilt never leave thy Wedded Fausta;  
What ever dreadful Chance, or strange Misfortune,  
Should start to undo me, almost to a Crime.  Crisp. 
No Crime: But want of Love: Nor that, by Heaven,  
Shall make me hate thee, though it bring me Death.  
Oh thou soft Dear! if ever I forsake thee,  
At my last hour, may I despair of Mercy,  
And may those Saints, that knew the wrong I did thee,  
When at Heaven's Gate, I beg for Entrance, answer,  
Remember what thou didst to Fausta swear,  
Be gone, for ever leave this happy Sphere;  
For perjured Lovers have no Mansion here.  Ex. Ambo.  
End 1st. Act.   

The Second Act: Scene ROME.  Enter Arius and Labienus, Eubolus. Arius. 
WE have done our Work by halfs; followed by the Scent,  
Traced to our Holes! Oh I could play the Madman!  
Men of our Make so poorly hide a Murder,  
That Dogs can Rake it up. Spies, Spies by Hell!  
The Course of former Councils was too slow,  
I am proclaimed a Traitor, Heretiok,  
And Poniards must proclaim my Accuser nothing.  Labie. 
Were it not better to comply?  Arius. 
Impossible!  
The Genius of the proud imperial Brothers  
And mine by Nature Mortally opposed.  
Hate strongly at first sight, which hate improved,  
By the late flaw I found in their Religion:  
They hear too how I tainted Infant Julian:  
Yet being made the Emperor's Confident,  
In the late Contract, all might have been retrieved;  
And I at Helm, had not his hated Brother  
Thus interposed to my eternal Ruin—  
Poison and Poniard—  Eubol. 
Is it come to that?  Ari. 
It is: without dispatch, we are all undone.  
Oh for a Slave to mould, some Malcontent;  
His blood adust, and blackened with the blows.  
Of adverse Fortune: yet of Soul elate,  
And to be flushed for Fame, or hire  
To any kind of daring!  Lab. 
Why?  Ari. 
I would work the Melancholy brave  
To stab Dalmatius.  Eubol. 
Why not Constantine?  Ari. 
Because ten Constantine's live at least in him;  
The one's not half so open to Destruction,  
As t'other close: and on the Guard to save him;  
He has unravelled our close Webb of Thought,  
And from the bottom of our dark Design  
Drawn Treason forth, perhaps to hang us all.  Lab. 
'Tis justly thought; this Let must be removed;  
And who so fit to hew it into pieces  
As that ambitious, brawny Fool, Lycinius?  Ari. 
Thou hast hit the Man my busy Brain had lost.  
The Emperor dooms him dead; by whose Advice?  
Tell me; I hear the dull Lycinius cry,  
That e'er I fall the Victim of the War,  
I may at once destroy his Life and Name.  Enter Lycinius. Guards: 
But see he comes! I bring you News.  Lycin. 
Ha! of my Death! I read it in thy Face.  Ari. 
The Emperor, as at first I told your Story,  Ready Trumpets, a March at distance. 
Inclined to Mercy: but fierce Dalmatius  Call Serena. 
Repealed the hint of your half granted Pardon,  
And forced him to your Death.  Lycin. 
By Mars I'll fight him.  Ari. 
'Tis not in your Power;  
You're Prisoner of War.  Lycin. 
Yet I may curse:  
My Tongue is not their Prisoner; therefore I'll curse,  
Bitterly curse Dalmatius: curse 'em all.  Ari. 
Curse for the loss of Empire, and of Life:  
Bitterly curse! Why Whores will there outdo you.  
I blush to think the great Lycinius  
Should e'er be brought in such Comparison!  
Would it not seem more worthy your pact Honour  
To strike than say? Strike, if I may advise,  
And e'er you suffer.—  Lycin. 
Kill Dalmatius,  
Constantine, Crispus, Annibal, nay all,—  
Quite root up all the Imperial Stock at once.  Ari. 
This Dagger then be yours: the Legacy  
Of an old Prophetess: who dying, told me,  
He that had Courage to employ it well,  
And where it ought, should make himself the Greatest.—  Trumpet at distance. Lycin. 
It shall be well employed, and where it ought.  
But hark! th' Emperor comes!  Ari. 
Rather Dalmatius,  
Perhaps commissioned for your Execution:  Lycin. 
Why then I'll forth and meet him. By the Fates,  
If I must fall, he shall not live to laugh:  
And in remembrance of this solemn Oath,  
I kiss the ominous Gift thou hast bequeathed me;  
I'll treasure it next my Heart; where it shall rest,  
Till sheathed by Vengeance in Dalmatius Breast.  Exit. Ari. 
Or live or die, thou art contrived for Mischief!  
Next I must mend the Heresies I've broached,  
And reconcile myself by some bold Offer,  
With Constantine; which while I undertake,  
Be it your Care to spread the old poisonous Doctrine:  
Sow it in all Habits, Persons, Forms, and Places;  
Grow with the Times, and cultivate Sedition.  Enter Serena. 
My fair Devotess:— but hence, as I have ordered,  
And meet me at the Trial of Lycinius.  Ex. Labie. & Eubol. Seren. 
The Morning's come, and fain I would have rest,  
Who all the Night have waked upon my Pillow,  
And made it wet with Tears: my solitary Groans  
That pierced heavens' Vaults: though Heaven was deaf the while;  
Deaf to redress, have made my Breast so sore  
That I can sigh no longer.  
Crispus and Fausta! Oh you happy Lovers!  
Not so with you the gladsome Minutes passed:  
For, ere 'twas day, I left my tedious Bed,  
And listened to your Joys.  Ari. 
Her Sorrows lull me,  
And I grow good, I know not how, o'th' sudden.  Seren. 
Such soft Expressions flowed from the charming Crispus,  
As did but aggravate my Passion more;  
Yet hide it, O Serena! though thou diest,  
Tell it to none, but to the midnight Groves,  
The Flocks and Streams, and those unhappy Stars,  
Whose merciless Fires thus fated thy undoing.  Ari. 
What! not to Arius! to thy Confessor;  
To him who has a Privilege from Heaven?  Seren. 
Oh Arius! would I had the Power to hide it;  
But you have heard it all;  
And will, perhaps, proclaim a Virgin's Frailty.  
But, Sir, I shall not long survive my shame:  
And since 'tis known, confess it to the World;  
Confess, that Passion has dethroned my Reason,  
That unbeloved, I love the best of Men.  
And sigh unheard, and without Witness mourn,  
And dote to Death, without the least Return.  Ari. 
'Tis said, young Annibal is vowed your Servant.  Seren. 
O Arius! mark the malice of our Fates!  
That Prince loves me, as Crispus is beloved,  
And failing in his Suit, employed his Friend  
To plead his Cause! Oh had it been his own!—  
But all my Prayers, alas! are now in vain,  Ready Trumpets for a Call. 
And wanting Crispus, I must wed my Grave.  
Therefore I beg you, Sir, procure his) Picture  
To entertain my melancholy Thoughts,  
Since him himself I ne'er must see again.  Ari. 
That, and all Helps which Arius can command.  Seren. 
I thank you Sir, by the blessed Saints I do;  
I thank you for this Favour, from my Heart.  
But hark! they come: Crispus and Fausta come!  
Oh Heart! why dost thou leap against my Bosom  
Like a caged Bird, and beat thyself to Death  
For an impossible Freedom?  Ari. 
Stay to salute 'em.  Seren. 
No Arius, no: I cannot, dare not stand 'em:  
But see, they come, wreathed in each others Arms,  
And mingling Kisses. Has not then the Night  
Been long enough, but you must love by Day?  
Do Fausta, do, be stifled with the Joy.  
Follow him from thy Chamber to the Grove,  
To Garden haunts, and clasp him in the Bowers,  
Thence to your golden Beds again, while I  
Sink to my Grave, and there forgotten, lie.  Exit. Serena. Ari. 
Crispus to court Serena for his Friend,  
His Picture she shall have it— Mischief, Hell!  
And if it be thy Will thy Slave obeys.  
Crispus and Annibal, that late were Friends—  
Shall straight be foes. But hush, the Lovers come—  
This Closet hides me to discover more.  Enter Crispus and Fausta. 
This Closet be my School, to learn their Language.  Fausta. 
Your Father's Trumpets call you. Let 'em call,  
You shall not go. Oh are there any Sounds  
To charm, more powerful than your Fausta's Cries?  Crisp. 
No, not the Tongues of Angels! O best Joy  
Of my abounding Soul! What shall I call thee?  
By Heaven, thou art all Heaven, all Paradise.  
Talk not then of going from thee: for, I'll stay till Age  
Has snowed a hundred Winters on my Head,  
Yet give and take Enjoyments then, as now.  Faust. 
And oh, for thee, thou dearest of the World,  
My Souls best Life, and my Hearts grasped Desire,  
Oh what Return! The Mother on her throws,  
After the Rack when hanging o'er her Babe,  
With bleeding Joys, wild Looks, and earning Smiles,  
Loves not her Darling more than I love Crispus.  
Thou shalt not leave me, Crispus.  Crisp. 
Yes, to meet again;  
Our Love's approved, by him that gave me Being,  
And then—  Faust. 
What then? He dooms me to that place;  
Where in his shroud the poor Maximian lies,  
Where I shall lie as I had never been,  
Nor think of Crispus more—  Crisp. 
Canst thou fear Death,  
While I have Life?  Faust. 
Oh do not trust thy Father!  
Trust not the Passions of a Conqueror;  
For in his fatal Look, when last he left me,  
Something I saw, that bid me fly his Presence.  
Fly to the Verge of Earth, and leap the bounds,  
Rather than ever meet his Eyes again.  Crisp. 
Thy Father's Fate makes thee mistrust thy own.  Faust. 
No Crispus, not Mistrust, but certain Danger;  
Which like a moulding Promontory hangs,  
Bursting above our Heads; and threatens Death,  
Unless we House betimes, and scape the fall.  Crisp. 
What danger? Death? What fall?  Faust. 
Thy Father.  Crisp. 
Ha!  Faust. 
Thy Father, Crispus.  Crisp. 
Knows not we are married,  
But shall, and will I hope forgive my passion.  Faust. 
I dreamt last night, thy Father was in love;  
In love with me, my Crispus; catched us clasped,  
And with his Dagger, stabbed us in the fold;  Crisp. 
Is't possible?  Faust. 
Most true.  Crisp. 
And catched thee with me?  Faust. 
Catched us in bed.  Crisp. 
There?  Faust. 
Here. Why dost thou wonder?  
'Twas but a dream.  Crisp. 
Yet there is wonder in 't.  
Because, by Heaven, I dreamed the very same.  
Is it not strange?  Faust. 
If it should happen true!  Crisp. 
That would be strange indeed.  Faust. 
Therefore let's fear the worst: and Arm against it;  
For oh, Why should I hide a secret from thee?  
When I beheld him last, He languished,  
And wrung my hand at parting.  Crisp. 
But what said he?  Faust. 
I will not tell you Crispus, till you answer  
What you would do with me, my dearest Joy,  
If it were true indeed, your Father loved me.  Crisp. 
What, at your parting? ha!  Faust. 
Why if't were true,  
Would you forsake me?  Crisp. 
Be my own murderer!  
I know not what, but speak your parting. Oh!  Faust. 
Why are you so enraged? I dare not tell you.  Crisp. 
If aught thou hidest, by Heaven thou dost not love me.  Faust. 
By Heaven! I hope no other Heaven, but thee.  
What if he talked a little? Age will talk,  
And think of it no more.  Trumpets ready for a Call. Crisp. 
What was your talk?  
I'll know each syllable.  Faust. 
Why so you shall:  
But then be calm; What if he talked of love?  
And what? Oh be not angry, and I'll tell you,  
What if to save my life I promised him?—  Crisp. 
Ha! promised Fausta?  
Promise the Father and engage the Son?  
But speak, I stand upon a Precipice;  
For if 'tis true, that e'er so little passed  
Of love before—  Faust. 
What then?  Crisp. 
And thou hast promised?  Faust. 
Suppose I have Sworn.  Crisp. 
Suppose then thy dishonour:  
Suppose me never to behold thee more;  
Suppose my death; both Soul and Body's ruin.  Faust. 
Suppose no more, but what my Soul hath Sworn,  
To love his Son, none but the lovely Crispus;  
O therefore clear thy brow, and take me to thee,  
Be still my love, forgive this little fault,  
And jealousy shall ne'er offend thee more.  Crisp. 
O Charmer! Beauty, What! where was the need?  
Why hast thou kept me on the Rack so long?  
Tho taken down, I feel the strains upon me,  
And shall, I fear, too long. But hark, they call,  Trumpets. 
And I must go.  Faust. 
But will you then return?  Crisp. 
Quick as thy wishes, or my own desires;  
But make no more such Trial. Hark again.  Trumpets again. Faust. 
I cannot part with you, though for a moment.  Crisp. 
I'll but inquire whether my Father's come.  Faust. 
Swear to come back then, Swean before you see him,  
To give me one look more.  Crisp. 
What needs an Oath?  
Before I speak with him—  Faust. 
You'll speak with me,  
For I have much to say of mighty moment;  
Swear therefore to return.  Crisp. 
Swear on thy Lips;  
Thus with my Heart I seal my Vows for ever.  Ex. Crispus. Faust. 
Heart and the Holiest Vows deep writ in Blood;  
Blood and dishonour: Take then, take my cause;  
Thou, that hast made me sin, O mighty love!  
And let thy Mother plead it with her Tears,  
He sees his Father, and my crime at once;  
And then resolves never to see me more.  Enter Arius. Call Dalmatius, Crispus, all Attendants. Arius. 
What then?  Faust. 
What then! O Arius, Dost thou know me?  
And ask what then, when he ne'er sees me more?  
I'll tell the then, I'll never see the day  
Shades, Night and Death, Despair and Dungeons hold me,  
When those dear Eyes shall never light me more.  Arius. 
Since you enjoyed him, let the Tides of love  
Be swallowed in the Ocean of Ambition.  Faust. 
Ambition, Pomp, and greatness of the World,  
All empty sounds to love! But thine's a downward sense,  
Thou hast no taste of these sublimer joys.  
But haste! look out; Why comes he not again?  
He swore, he would; but he has seen his Father!  
Who stops him, with my first unhappy Contract.  Arius. 
I see him yonder.  Faust. 
Blessings on thy Tongue;  
But I'll run forth to meet him, and no longer,  
Conceal the Innocent deceit of Love.  Arius. 
Hold Madam, stay, Dalmatius comes; retire,  Faust. 
Dalmatius! Let me see myself.  Arius. 
They come.  Faust. 
Dalmatius! Gods, 'tis He, He tells him all;  
Th' Emperor told it him. Nay it must out,  
I am lost, undone: But gentle Arius, wait,  
And watch, and bring me word, how Crispus bear it.  
Oh that I were a Spirit to stand unseen!  
To mark his passions how they rise and fall,  
With every Glance of those dear, dreadful Eyes:  
But see they come, and yet I cannot stir,  
I grow distracted with my hope and fear,  
Compelled to go; yet long to tarry here.  Ex. Fausta. Enter Dalmatius and Crispus to Arius. Dalm. 
I have much against you, Crispus; and you know it;  
Therefore with all the freedom of a friend,  
Tell me what is the cause, you have not been  
So free as formerly.  Crisp. 
You know I am.  Dalm. 
I'll press you Sir, no more, only remember,  
There stands a Villain, whom I have seen you whisper.  Ex. Arius. Crisp. 
I'll tell you all.  Dalm. 
You dare not: Come there is a guilt at bottom,  
You blush to own, a Crime of such a nature,  
As will admit no Pardon. Thou hast sinned  
Against the great Divinity of friendship;  
Which my Soul takes to death.  Crisp. 
Can it be  
Ever too late to gain a Pardon here?  Dalm. 
I cannot tell; Yet I can tell thee this,  
There was a time, not many days are past,  
Since I preferred thy friendship to the World;  
When I could say; Why yonder goes the Man,  
Whom my Soul worships more than Constantine,  
And Loves beyond my Son. By Heaven thy fault  
Is ominous, and grinds my temper through.  Crisp. 
That Son you named unhappily 's in Love.  Dalm. 
Then He's a Fool. With whom?  Crisp. 
Maximians Daughter;  
The younger Beauty.  Dalm. 
Ha! And you Love the Elder:  
My life on't some such masterly design;  
This makes you shun the Camp, to lurk beneath  
The Eves of Palaces, and droop in Corners.  
But Sir your Pardon. I almost forgot  
To urge your swiftest speed, to wait your Father.  Crisp. 
I will but take my leave.  Dalm. 
I fear there is  
Too much already taken; but no more—  
If you have aught to say, I'll visit for you.—  Crisp. 
Be all as you would have it! Oh your hand!  
Nay, I will force my Entrance to your Heart,  
By opening all my own; and so farewell.  Ex. Crispus. Dalm. 
I blame my friend for walking in the Dark,  
Yet hide myself, who when I seem most strange  
Am fondest of his Love. So Sir, What now?  Enter Hannibal. Annib. 
The fair Constantia with condemned Lycinius,  
Dressed in the saddest Glass of dying sorrow,  
Was coming to entreat you for his Pardon;  
But soon as she had heard from weeping Arius,  
Her Husband's doom, she in our Arms Expired.  Dalm. 
I mourn her Fate; But for Lycinius,  
I urged at first, and still resolve, his Death  
Is necessary to the Emperor's life  
Nor should a few weak drops by Women shed,  
Stop a Decree so Absolute and Royal.  Annib. 
He comes attended with a mournful crowd,  
To sue for life.  Dalm. 
I'll have him Executed in their view;  
Yes Hannibal, and show thy Youth a pattern  
Of the old Romans, for thy imitation:  
Who hast but poorly Copied from thy Father.  Annib. 
Why Sir? What Villain has traduced my Virtue?  Dalm. 
No Villain, but thy Prince has owned thy weakness;  
And says thou Lov'st a Captive Foe of Rome.  Annib. 
The Virgin's beautiful, and greatly born.  Dalm. 
Perhaps the Virgin may as greatly die,  
And yield her Beauties to the Fatal stroke.  Annib. 
To the Fatal stroke! Oh all ye Powers!  
No Sir: The fair Serena shall not die  
While I wear this.  Dalm. 
Ha Rebel! Traitor! How!  
Not at the Emperor's Doom?  Annib. 
No nor at yours,  
That gave me Sir my being; take it again,  
Unless you give me leave to lay it there,  
Where I have placed my Love.  Dalm. 
The Emperor  
Decrees thee Cappadocia: Wilt thou forfeit  
The noble Heritage of such Ambition  
For Infamous Love?  Annib. 
Wrong not a Passion,  
That equal your own Virtue. For could Caesar  
Give with a Daughter of his own the World,  
I would prefer my Love in this Condition,  
To all the proffers of his Blood and Empire.  Dalm. 
Hence from my sight; And till thou break'st this passion,  
See me no more.  Annib. 
Then I must never see you.  
For when I cease to Love, where I have vowed,  
I am no more: Therefore upon my Knees,  
I beg you to recall this dreadful sentence.  
Repeal my Banishment, and give me leave,  
To win the Heart of this unhappy Maid,  
Or bid me die before you.  Dalm. 
Rise my Boy:  
Thou Lov'st indeed, who canst refuse a Kingdom.  Enter Arius, Lycinius, Labienus, Eubolus, with the Populace. 
But see Lycinius with his followers here,  
Take to the habit of thy former Wars;  
And soften not my Justice by thy sorrows.  Annib. 
I have heard Lycinius lately threatened you,  
Therefore your Guardians Eye be watchful o'er you.  Dalm. 
Fear not, I'm Armed against'em. Know, Lycinius,  
The Emperor has decreed to show his Subjects,  
What wearied Mercy dares resolve to do.  
Cleanthes; you the Captain of the Guard:  
Lead to the Forum, and in the People's view  
Strike off his Head.  Lycin. 
— I bear the sentence as becomes my Honour:  
And all the favour which I beg in Death,  
Is to reveal a secret to your Ear,  
Which may import the Emperor's life, and Yours.  Dalm. 
What would you Sir?  Lycin. 
My Lord, Are you in earnest?  
Or is there room for hope?  Dalm. 
Sir, be not flattered:  
Hope is the fawning Traitor of the mind,  
Which while it cozen's with a coloured friendship,  
Robs us of our last Virtue, Resolution.  Lycin. 
Speak then the force of Resolution— Thus.  Annib. 
No Villain— Thus.  Annibal disarms and offers to Stab him. Dalm. 
Hold, Annibal! Hold thy Hand.  
An executioner in the best of Causes,  
Is a vile trade for Honourable men;  
Therefore let slaves dispatch him.  Annib. 
Rack him First,  
To know who counselled him to this damned deed?  Dalm. 
No: To Sylvester let him own his fault,  
And die a Christian, I am satisfied.  Lycin. 
Ha ha!— A Christian! What and fall a Sheep?  
Confess! No, as he urged, bring forth the Rack:  
Wiredraw my Limbs, Spin all my Nerves like Hairs,  
And work my tortured Flesh as thin as Flame,  
You shall not know a title more than this;  
I was set on to stab Dalmatius;  
And would the Emperor, were he in my reach.  
Who were the Gods that prompted thus my Arm,  
You Christian Curs shall never know from me;  
Therefore go learn the Mystery in Hell.  
Thus much I may acquaint you; They are living,  
Warm in your Bosoms, and I hope will sting you;  
Sting you to Death. Plagues, Famine, Sword, and Fire;  
Fire from the Gods on your proud City fall;  
And with that dying Curse I leave you all.  Ex. Guarded. Dalm. 
His Fate was just; now Romans to the Triumph;  
Go forth and meet your Emperor, whose mercy  
Extends her peaceful Wings to all that seek him;  
And is the Darling attribute of his Soul.  
But hark! He comes! The Saviour of your Empire;  
Bring forth his Statues; Crown his Images;  
Meet him with Garlands, Songs and Shouts of Triumph.  
But see his entrance is already made,  
And there He comes, with Crispus in his Arms.  Enter Constantine, Crispus, etc. To the Triumph. Const. 
Dalmatius, I must thank thee for the Fate,  
Of that too stubborn troubler of our Reign;  
Sylvester to his Hermitage retires,  
And says the Saints are sad at my delay:  
Tell him, e'er long, and urge him to return,  
The Emperor and the Court shall be Baptised.  Dalm. 
Take to your former freedom, Mirth and Humour,  
For 'tis observed, you are not as you were.  Const. 
Oh Brother! Friend! In all my hazards tried,  
This Son shall share the Heart and Empire too,  
Of my loved Crispus, whom for some few minutes,  
I would discourse alone.  Dalm. 
Your wishes on you;  
Peace to your thoughts, and Heaven still guide your Councils.  Exeunt. Manent Constantine, Crispus. Const. 
Hast thou performed thy Embassy, my Crispus?  
And seen the Daughter of Maximian?  Crisp. 
I have seen Her Sir; And seen Her Beauteous Sister.  Const. 
How lik'st thou? Ha! Are they not charming both?  
Both Beautiful?  Crisp. 
They are. But why Sir both?  Const. 
Because the latter only Catched thy praise,  
When Fausta in the Pride of blooming Nature,  
As much transcends her as the Summer's Rose  
The little Beauties of a backward Spring.  Crisp. 
'Tis true, She is the Elder.  Const. 
And the fairer,  
In all comparisons to be preferred,  
Not only to her Sister, but the World.  Crisp. 
Is't possible?  Const. 
That thou shouldst be so dull,  
To ask the Question, having seen the wonder!  Crisp. 
But Sir, when I was sent you talked of Death.  Const. 
Death to myself, and thee, and all mankind,  
Rather than wound a part of my Loved Fausta.  Crisp. 
Oh Heaven! What said you? Do you Love her then?  Const. 
Love her my Son! In Age I Love her more,  
Then in my Youth I Loved the chase of Glory.  Crisp. 
And does she know you Love her?  Const. 
Know? Approves;  
Approving joined, and Sealed the Contract sure.  Crisp. 
Death and Despair! Approved, Joined, Sealed, Contracted!  
How Sealed? And how Contracted?  Const. 
Why our Lips  
Have Signed and Sealed an Everlasting Love.  Crisp. 
What, kiss'dher? Ha! But I'm too Credulous:  
All you have said is but to try my temper,  
How much your Son can bear.  Const. 
I must confess,  
Thy fears were just, hadst thou another Father;  
But as I am, I swear what ever Issue  
I have by Fausta, Thou shalt Heir my Power.  Crisp. 
Talk not of Power, but tell me of your Love;  
Distract me not with these Ambiguous Answers,  
But tell me; Swear to save my loss of reason,  
If as you Love, you are by Fausta Loved.  Const. 
That I Love Fausta; is as true by Heaven,  
As I Love thee; But whether I am Loved,  
With just return, is hard indeed to swear:  
Yet as I said before, our Hands have joined,  
Our Lips have sealed, and binding Oaths have past.  Crisp. 
What Oaths?  Const. 
Betrothing Oaths.  Crisp. 
Oh, All ye Saints!  
Are you contracted too?  Const. 
Ay Crispus, we 're contracted;  
Weep not my Son; I swear by this Embrace,  
Thou shalt not less be Loved then heretofore.  Crisp. 
Betrothed! Oh Heaven! And have you Sir enjoyed her?  Const. 
No Crispus; That's a Heaven I have to come.  Crisp. 
A Hell! All Hell! And if not yet enjoyed,  
Let me conjure you by my Mother's ashes,  
Touch her not for the World.  Const. 
What means my Son?  
I have decreed to marry her this Night;  
And taste the sweets of long expected joys.  Crisp. 
By Heaven I swear those sweets have poison in 'em,  
Bane to your Soul, your Empire, Life and Glory.  Const. 
Take heed my Crispus, that thou do not wrong her;  
I know the hazard of Succession frights thee.  Crisp. 
No: By your sacred life; nothing but Honour  
Provokes me in the point: She's false, forsworn,  
And to my certain knowledge loves another.  
Oh! Therefore touch her not; and to convince you,  
That Empire could not work me thus: This night  
I'll turn a Hermit, and renounce the World.  Const. 
If she be false: I know his temper well;  
And nature cannot make such faults o'th' sudden,  
If she be false! By Heaven, thou hast moved me Crispus:  
But speak the Traitor's name, who thus has wronged me.  Crisp. 
Pardon me, Sir, his name; He could not wrong you,  
Because he knew not.  Const. 
What?  Crisp. 
Your Love.  Const. 
His name,  
There's more in this; His name, again I charge thee,  
Not only name him, but produce his person;  
Or I shall think all forgery thou hast sworn.  Crisp. 
O let me beg you, wed her not to night,  
And when I see you next, I'll tell you more;  
Perhaps betray the Innocent to Death.  Const. 
Let that be proved; I swear he shall not die,  
Thou art it seems his friend as well as mine;  
But look you calm the Tempest you have raised,  
Or I will make thee stranger to my Soul.  Ex. Constantine. Crisp. 
Solus. I am content; if that some pitying Power,  
Would make make me too a stranger to myself:  
But hold my Heart a while, till I have found her.  
Yet there's a lucid joy in these distractions;  
To know he has not bedded her; then had followed,  
Her death and mine, and consequent Damnation:  
Yet lest she should consent, I'll haste, and warn her;  
When warned I'll watch, and if she after Yield,  
Through Love or Fear, to his Incestuous charms,  
I'll rush through all and stab her in his Arms.  Exit 
End 2d. Act.   


The Third Act: Scene 1st.  Enter Annibal and Serena. Annib. 
IS this your Answer then, You cannot love me?  
This the Reward for Offers of my Blood?  
And braving a stern Father to preserve you?  
This the Effect of Crispus Eloquence!  
To make his Friend a most untimely Grave?  
For, bear it as you please, or laugh or grieve,  
I will not be a Trouble to you long.  Seren. 
What shall I say? Alas! I might delude you, Annibal,  
Like other faithless Beauties of the Age;  
But the Gods framed me of so plain a Temper,  
I cannot hide my Thoughts,  
Though to my undoing.  
But something more there is, if you could bear it,  
To turn your desperate Love for ever from me.  Annib. 
Produce it then; for, what can Nature show me  
Than Death more dreadful, wilder than Despair,  
Which now are my Familiars?  Seren. 
Take it, Sir,  
The only Secret of my wounded Soul.  
I love, I languish, and despair like you.  Annib. 
What, do you lovo another?  Seren. 
Love him to death, nor does he know I love him;  
Or if he did, he would not make Return.  Annib. 
Can this be possible! But where, where is he?  
That I may rush with all my Rage upon him,  
And bear him with me, to the other World.  Seren. 
Not for a thousand Worlds you must not hate him  Annib. 
Plagues! Curses on his Head, Rage and Despair.  
Is this then the Return of all my Vows,  
To make my setting yet more deep in Blood?  
But give me quick his Quality and Name.  Seren. 
His Name! what, after such Resolves of Vengeance!  
Your Fate and mine should not compel it now.  Annib. 
What, not to save my Life!  Seren. 
No: for what Life can stand in Competition,  
When his is threatened? Better you, and I,  
And all the rest of humane Kind, should perish,  
Than he, the Masterpiece of Nature, suffer.  
And should you know him, spite of your Resolves,  
Sir, you would kneel and worship too like me.  Annib. 
Show me the God then, if I must adore.  Seren. 
No, since you have sworn, I should do ill to trust you:  
Yet, for his Preservation, I must tell you,  
When e'er he dies Serena too shall bleed.  
From the same hand, the same Dispatch I crave,  
And, if at last one Monument we have,  
What Joys can Life compare with such a Grave!  Exit. Enter Arius with Crispus Picture. Annib. 
Death, Hell, and Furies; if my Sword have Charms,  
Which never failed me yet, I'll find him out;  
This Rival God—  
And drive him from the World.  Ari. 
Ha! Goes it there?  
Then to my Task!  Annib. 
Arius in Contemplation!  
'Twere worth my while to spy, Crispus Picture!  
Forgive me Arius, if I rob your Hand  
Of what's so deep engraven in my Heart.  
For whom this pretty Present?  Ari. 
Your Pardon— The Mystery is one of Love's great Secrets.  Annib. 
Crispus in Love, and hide it from his Friend!  
From Annibal, that opened all to him!  
'Twas much unkind: Arius I am concerned:  
And you must tell me where his Heart's engaged,  
ere I return the Picture.  Arius. 
Sir, I am in haste;  
And dare not tell her Name; therefore I beg you:  
She waits my coming.— Good my Lord,— she loves  
To that degree, each Moment's Stay is Death:  
Therefore, let me conjure you.  Annib. 
Thou dost but raise my Admiration more:  
Therefore, your Business, or farewell.—  Arius. 
Stay, Stay!  
My Lord, you are his Friend! yet 'tis a Breach  
Of Trust: but since there is no other help,  
And the fair Mistress of his Heart may pine  
To death upon the loss; restore the Picture,  
And take the Secret, Sir: her Name's Serena.  Annib. 
Traitor, thou liest: and, but thy Robe protects thee,  
Shouldst feel, even now, th' Effects of my Revenge.  Ari. 
To clear th' Alpersion, hear it Sir, yourself,  
And to Serena's Face, I'll justify  
The Secret of her Love; though Crispus kill me.  Annib. 
By Heaven, thou dost recall a dreadful Image:  
Of late I met him e'er I made my Visit  
To Her thou hast named, and asked him of my Love!  
He seemed in haste! his Answers were abrupt;  
His Countenance sad: and thus in short returned;  
Hunt not the Bubble Beauty, like a Boy;  
Fall like a Man: and let your Rest be Fame.  
And so it shall: If what thou sayst be true,  
I'll level him with Earth.  Arius. 
What said you, Sir?  Annib. 
Yet I will have more Proof; she shall, herself,  
Be witness to the Fall of this high Virtue:  
Then Friendship to the Winds, like meeting Tides,  
We'll fight the Tempest out, nor give it o'er,  
Till one lies dashed, and broken on the Shore.  Exit. Ari. 
Thus far the Devil is the best mounted yet,  
And Heresy at last shall win the Race.  Enter Labienus and Eubolus. 
Ha! Labienus here,  
And my Eubolus; We shall shortly govern.  Labi. 
I met the Emperor of late, alone;  
Who asked for you.  Ari. 
I'll instantly attend him.  
Where is his Son?  Eubol. 
I left him with Dalmatius.  Ari. 
Unloading his sick Heart upon his Friend.  Enter Dalmatius and Crispus. 
But see, the Master Enemy's at hand;  
Sculk to your Posts, and ●ive in Mists a way.  Ex. Ari. Lab. Eub. Crisp. 
Now my Dalmatius, now thou hast my Heart,  
And make good use on't, if I ne'er see thee more.  
By Heaven, my Friend, I have not hid a Point  
Of that sad Story that must make my Ruin.  Dalm. 
Would thou hadst told me half of it before!  
I might have saved thee many a Sigh and Tear:  
Pray Heaven no worse come on't; but 'tis no time  
T'upbraid thee now; What wouldst thou have me do?  Crisp. 
Persuade my Father from enjoying her,  
For if that be to night, as once he vowed,  
Thou shalt behold thy Crispus dead to morrow.  Dalm. 
And what of Fausta?  Crisp. 
I know not what.  
That subtle, false one, that has thus deceived me,  
And with her charms ensnared my innocent Soul:  
But I will hence.  Dalm. 
For what?  Crisp. 
To execute  
The Vows I made.  Dalm. 
Go then and kill her.  Crisp. 
Ha!  Dalm. 
Kill th' Adulteress: This incestuous Charmer:  
And have her born in Triumph to thy Father:  
Then tell thy Tragic story like a Man;  
And greatly thus Atone for both your Crimes.  Crisp. 
Farewell: I'll find another way to end her.  Dalm. 
Tongue— kill her, go: or swear and be forsworn,  
Thou ne'er wilt see her more. Heaven! That a Man  
Born to the Empire of the World, should dote  
On such slight stuff as Woman!  Crisp. 
See my Father,  
Look thou to Him, as I'll be guard on Her.  
Incest! Dishonour! To all future Ages——  
Think,— Think on that— and push him from his ruin.  Ex. Crispus. Enter Constantine, Sylvester, Dalmatius. Const. 
What say the People to the rumour spread  
Of my new Contract?  Sylu. 
All the Christians mourn,  
And sicken in their Souls, as if Heaven warned  
The Earth, of some unheard Calamity:  
The Heathens on the other side rejoice,  
And cry, a Persecution is at hand.  Const. 
No matter to the point; Know'st thou the man,  
Whom Fausta Loves?  Sylu. 
I told you Sir before,  
I would be dumb for ever on this Theme.  Const. 
Yet this implies thou know'st, but wilt not show him:  
All know him, all, all but he that should;  
For Crispus has confessed,  
Yet hides the name;— But I'll find out one,  
Less meriting respect, whom Racks shall force.  Dalm. 
If you intent your Empire's safety, Sir,  
Cast Fausta from your Bosom; Turn her out;  
Away with her— far let her be Exiled,  
With all her race; For Death is in her Beauty.  Const. 
My Brother offer this!  
Death in her Beauty?  Dalm. 
Violent, sudden Death;  
Death to your Health, and Ruin to your Glory.  Const. 
Perhaps he is the man. Her Lover! Yes:  
And thus conceals his flame with Covert rage,  
For else what Cause could thus provoke his Passion?  
What is the Public Interest here concerned?  
Their murmurings, or their joys; which with a nod,  
My Power can hush. By Heaven there's more at bottom,  
And I will find it out; Their looks betray 'em:  
Priest: Princes: all engaged; and for some great one.  Enter Arius. 
But hold— here comes my Man! Brother I've thought  
And will consider further what you urged,  
Against my Wife.  Dalm. 
We leave you to heavens' care,  
And wish you to beware that waiting Fiend.  Ex. Dalm. Sylu. Const. 
So, now your business, Arius!  Arius. 
Sir.  Const. 
Your business?  
The Coast is clear; be your Confession so;  
And speak what all the Court have sworn to hide.  Arius. 
Sir, Labienus gave me your Commands,  
That I should wait.  Const. 
Dost thou dally with me?  
Thou know'st the least of thy Enormous Crimes  
Deserve a lengthened death: Think on thy Treason,  
Atheism, Blasphemies against the Highest;  
Think on the purposed murder of my Brother,  
Wrought by thy Charms, thou damned one; after this,  
Let thy affrighted Soul despise my wrath,  
And if she dares be dumb to my demands.  Arius. 
What must I Answer?  Const. 
Give me Truth for Truth.  
Once more then; And this warning be thy last,  
Show me the robber of my hearts repose,  
Friend to my Crispus, but his Father's Foe;  
The Conquering Rival of my ravished Love.  Arius. 
What, has your Son revealed?  Const. 
He says she's false; but tells me not to whom;  
Swears she's foresworn: And when I see him next,  
I shall know more.  Arius. 
What if you never see him?  Const. 
Why dost thou start a Question so unlikely?  Arius. 
I cannot think he will betray his Friend;  
He who betrays his friend, betrays himself;  
And rather than do that, I judge he'll leave  
your sight, The Empire, and his Love for ever.  Const. 
Love, Arius! Ha! His Love! What Love? To whom?  Arius. 
Why Love to you:  
What other Love should Crispus entertain?  
He has no Mistress sure!  Const. 
Thou seem'st to hint,  
As if he had: Mark thy foregoing words:  
He who betrays his friend, betrays himself:  
By Heaven! Thou hast set my anxious Soul a' work.  
For when thou saidst; he has no Mistress, sure—  
Thy meaning was, to make me think he had;  
And that this Mistress could be none but Fausta.  Arius. 
I hope, dread Sir, you will not wrest my words,  
And Innocent thoughts to any evil purpose.  Const. 
What! at your tricks again? Be quick my Traitor,  
And spread at once thy double Heart before me;  
Dost thou not judge my Son, his Father's Rival?  Arius. 
If you would know my Heart, indeed, I do.  Const. 
Why, what a Devil wert thou then to deny't?  
So pitifully play the Hypocrite;  
And screw that lying Face into a show  
Of Innocence,  
When nature stamped thee for a Villain!  Arius. 
Forgive me, Sir, if I avow 'twas fear,  
Not Villainy that made me hide my thought.  Const. 
All fear, but fear of Heaven, betray's a guilt;  
And guilt is Villainy. But let thy fear  
Produce what past betwixt the wicked pair;  
Show me th' Adulteress and Adulterer;  
Where, how and when, this Incest was Committed,  
Who was the Instrument and Cursed Bawd,  
And damned contriver of their horrid joys.  Arius. 
Oh Heaven!  Const. 
O Hell! For there shalt thou be hurled,  
And roast in Sulphur, if Thou not tell me all;  
Thou, who perhaps thyself were't the Contriver,  
The Bawd I named, and Instrument of their lust.  Arius. 
Hold Sir! And I'll confess: I've seen your Son  
Oftener than I have wished, attend your Fausta,  
And seen him late from her Apartment come;  
I've heard him praise her long, and when the praise  
Was finished, sigh, that he durst praise no longer:  
At least I thought so, but my thought's no proof.  Const. 
No Arius, not enough for Crispus Death,  
But there's enough to turn my Spirit from him,  
To make me loath his form; When next we meet,  
From Head to Foot to measure him with my Eye,  
Both as an Object of my scorn and hate.  Arius. 
That Love has passed betwixt 'em is past doubt,  
But for enjoying—  Const. 
Know'st thou aught of that?  Arius. 
Not I, by Heaven!  Const. 
Why didst thou start it then?  Arius. 
Sir to be satisfied, what you would do,  
Upon the demonstration.  Const. 
Both should bleed,  
Both die, as sure as we are living, Arius;  
For him, 'twere sacrilege to think to save him,  
If thus he has transgressed; not then my vows,  
Not all the Conquests of his blooming Years,  
With my whole Empire's Knees and lifted Hands:  
Not the remembrance of his Mother's Tears,  
When on her deathbed, she bequeathed his safety  
To my best Care and Love, shall once redeem him.  Arius. 
What shall be done to him that finds the truth?  Const. 
Reward and Honour. He shall be my friend.  Arius. 
I ask no more; henceforth I'm yours;  
To search, though at the Peril of my life  
The bottom of this business.  Const. 
Say and do—  
But send my Wardrobe now, to Fausta's side,  
Bear her the Diadem, with stile of Empress:  
And say this night I bed Her.  Arius. 
That will prove her——  
If she refuse; You know Sir what to judge.  
Nor would it be amiss to break discourse,  
About your Son, and sift her subtle Soul.—  Const. 
I apprehend thee: But as I commanded—  
Away— Oh Constantinel Yet ere this search,  
Whatever comes, Remember he's thy Son;  
Son of thy Love, and once was next thy Soul.  
But as the best are worst, when once corrupted,  
If he has sinned at all, he has sinned to Death;  
The Thought distracts me; Heaven remove this Trouble,  
Or I shall run to my old Gods again.  
But hush awhile: I'll bear my Passion cold,  
I'll curb it while the Reins of Reason hold;  
But if they break, than Nature, where's thy Call?  
Be deaf to Reason, Nature, Judgement, All—  
The Precipice is Fate; and if we roll,  
The Fault is theirs that fooled us with a Soul.  Exit.  

Scene II.  Enter Crispus with a Dagger, and Fausta. Faust. 
HOld, hold thy hand—  Crisp. 
Think not I meant to kill Thee—  
No, thou seducer, were thy Stains more deep  
Think not too, Despair, and Rage could so unman me  
To hurt a Woman. Yet thou shalt hear me Fausta:  
And if the Story of thy Crimes can kill thee,  
I'll lay thy Wounds wide open to the Air;  
Display the Perjuries of thy bleeding Heart,  
And to thy Incest, add at last a Murder.  Faust. 
Stab with thy Dagger then; but let thy Tongue  
Destroy no more.  Crisp. 
Oh all ye Powers, who that had known last Night,  
The Joys which I have known, could once have thought it!  
Who that had heard her Vows, when on my Breast,  
Wearied with Oaths, and out of Breath with Kisses  
She panting sworn! And wished Destruction seize her,  
If she were not content, so one night more  
Her ravished Soul like that might entertain,  
To live her Miseries and past Life again.  Faust. 
By all those Powers you name, and by your own,  
I wish so still.  Crisp. 
Yet at that very Minute  
When thus she swore, to know she was forsworn,  
Conscious her Faith was plighted to another!  
And who that other picked from all Mankind,  
To make her more abhorred, but my own Father?  Faust. 
What, Load on Load?  Crisp. 
Her violated Hands  
Were plighted fast with his; and Kisses past.—  Faust. 
Hold, hold, and let my Tears atone, my Lord,  
Or sink upon the Earth.  Crisp. 
The Centre, Fausta,  
The Centre cannot hide thee from the Horrors  
Of thy own Conscience, which are my Avengers:  
And wheresoever thou fliest, shall follow thee  
With inward Hells, for the base Wrong thou hast done me.  Faust. 
O Crispus! never, never, wilt thou end?  Crisp. 
By Heaven! I know thy damnable Design:  
Thou hast this Night contrived to ruin Nature,  
To make the Angels sick with such a Crime,  
As equal hers that first betrayed the World.  Faust. 
I'll stop thee with my Kisses!  Crisp. 
Off Crocodile!  Faust. 
Why use thy Poniard then.  Crisp. 
Nor that, nor this.  
I had designed, 'tis true, to stab myself;  
But second Thoughts instruct me thus to haunt thee;  
Like an eternal Fiend to follow thee:  
To hollow still Damnation in thy Ear,  
And hinder thee from Incest with my Father.  
Oh horrid Thought!  Faust. 
Oh horrid Thought indeed!  Crisp. 
Why does it not possess thee!  
Thou fair insinuating Snake! wouldst thou then guild thy Poison?  
Swear on my Poniard, swear, and damn thyself;  
Thou hast not plotted, as this Night, to twist  
Thy incestuous Arms about my Father's Neck!  Faust. 
Yes, I will swear. But let me lean my Head  
Against thy Breast, while I recover Breath:  
For I am faint with Groans.  Crisp. 
Oh Heart! Oh Love!  
She grasps so hard, and locks so with her Charms,  
I cannot put her from me! Fausta! is't possible!  
Is it then possible! Thou canst be good?  
So good at least, as being thus gone in Sin,  
To go no further?  Faust. 
Let me swear;  
For I will face the Gods in such a Cause;  
And standing on the Guard of Innocence,  
Swear, all I've done was but th' Effect of Love.  Crisp. 
Again thou'rt fallen; for thou art guilty, Fausta,  
Of Impious Treasons, and incestuous Love.  Faust. 
I am not, Crispus.  Crisp. 
Ha! not guilty, Fausta?  
Then farewell all.  Faust. 
Hold, hold, not guilty to my Crispus.  
Fall not to Rage again, and I'll confess  
I was compelled to be contracted to him:  
Not wedded, nor possessed.  Crisp. 
Why didst thou hide thy Contract?  Faust. 
Because 'twas forced by Fear; nor did I dare  
Reveal it to thee, ere I had thee sure. So much I loved thee, Crispus,  Crisp. 
But what hadst thou decreed to do to night,  
This fatal Night, if that the Emperor  
Had sworn to enjoy thee?  Faust. 
Stop him with my Tears;  
Or if they failed, to dam his Passion thus,  
And sheathe this hidden Poniard in my Heart.  Crisp. 
Is't possible, Thou shouldst so greatly dare?  Faust. 
Yes Crispus. Thou shalt see by what's to come.  
Oh! therefore take me to thy Breast, and swear—  Crisp. 
Swear first thyself, he never shall possess thee.  Faust. 
What needs an Oath after possessing Thee?  Crisp. 
Yet, for the Satisfaction of my Soul,  
And Cement of our everlasting Loves,  
Swear thou wilt never.  Faust. 
Never Crispus, never.  
By Heaven and Earth, by all that's great, and holy,  
I swear thy Father never shall embrace me.  Crisp. 
What never! Oh yet closer! Never Fausta?  Faust. 
By all this Dearness, never Crispus, never.  Enter Arius. Arius. 
What Faults are gone and passed, it matters not:  
But you had best beware of what's to come—  
Haste Sir away.— See there the Beds prepared—  Scene draws, 
The Diadem; and Name of Empress given—  
Your Father's at my Heels! hark! you are warned.  Soft Music. 
I hear him come, and wish you Sir away.  Ex. Arius. Crisp. 
Oh Fausta!  Faust. 
Take no Thought.  Crisp. 
If he should charm thee,  
Or scare thee to Compliance—  Faust. 
That distrust  
Again! by Heaven I'll die before he enters.  Crisp. 
Hold thee, my Heart! my Life, my Love, my Soul,  
I'll stay— and hazard all— but hark! he comes.  
I would advise— Live, if thou canst with Honour—  
If not— he's here, fall, and I'll follow thee.  Ex. Crispus. Re-enter Arius with Constantine. Const. 
Ha Arius! seest thou there?  Ari. 
Crispus, I think.  Const. 
Didst thou not see him?  Ari. 
Yes.  Const. 
Why dost thou then suppose it but thy Thought?  Ari. 
Because I do not like his being here.  Const. 
Nor I, by Heaven! Withdraw; and wait my Call.  Ar. retires. 
What now, my Fausta! Ha! in Tears my Fair!  
What, on thy Wedding Night? Why dost thou fly me?  
Am I a Ravisher? Howe'er reputed  
Bloody in Fields, in Chambers I am gentle  
As thy own Thoughts.  
Therefore let our Vows be scaled, and then to bed.  Faust. 
What said you, Sir?  Const. 
Why, to Bed my Love;  
And hide thy Virgin Fears. Thou wilt be bolder there—  Faust. 
Alas! I dare not.  Const. 
Why?  Faust. 
I've sworn, my Lord.  Const. 
What, and to whom?  Faust. 
To Heaven I've sworn,  
Howe'er contracted, that I will not wed you.  Const. 
When?  Faust. 
Not to night.  Const. 
When then?  Faust. 
Press me no further,  
For I can only answer with my Tears.  Const. 
Speak, for I'll know th' Extremity to night—  
Why then to morrow; but by Heaven no longer;  
For now I've sworn too.  Faust. 
But I vowed first:  
And swear again to keep that Vow till Death.  
To morrow and to morrow, add to those  
Ten Millions more. You never shall embrace me—  Const. 
Is't possible! after thy Faith was given!  Faust. 
Not given, but by a Conqueror compelled.  Const. 
And hast thou rightly scanned the Conquerour's Rage!  
Ha! Fausta! hast thou placed thy Father's Fate  
Before thy Eyes? And thought upon thy own?  Faust. 
Just to your purpose: I'm prepared for Death,  
Rather than entertain you in my Bed:  
Therefore if you set down t'enjoy me, Sir,  
Or doom me dead, upon the Earth I beg you  
To speak your Will. And Fausta shall revenge you.  
This Poniard straight shall act your vowed Revenge,  
And take her from the World.—  Const. 
Rise, Fausta! rise—  
By Heaven I find 'tis vain to strive against thee!  
Take then what more thou valu'st than the World,  
And what, in spite of me, the Fates ordain thee—  
My Crispus for thy Love—  Faust. 
Ah, Sir, what mean you?  Const. 
Why wouldst thou strive to hide what Nature shows?  
Dalmatius, Arius, and Sylvester, know it:  
And overwrought me for my Empire's Safety,  
To this great Act to yield thee to my Son.  Faust. 
Did Arius too? No sure, they rather wrought you  
To yield me to my Grave—  Const. 
No. To my Throne:  
Already 'tis decreed: my Caesar weds thee.  
Not but I own I came to work thee from him.  
But since not Death itself can daunt thy Love,  
Forbid it Heaven, that I should break such Union.  
Haste Arius! Call my Son. I'll give him now;  
Now while my Reason lets me see my Dotage.  
How ill such Autumn suits thy Beauty's Spring!  
But haste and bring him, while the heat is on me;  
For I will have you wedded in my presence:  
And if thy Heart consent to make a Turn,  
As strange as kind; this Night he shall enjoy thee.  Faust. 
Oh Heaven, instruct my Frailty what to answer!  
Can this be real Sir! is't possible?  Const. 
My Council know it; and confirm the Order.  Faust. 
That I shall wed your Son?  Const. 
Why thus repeated?  Faust. 
And you approve it?  Const. 
Canst thou doubt me still?  Faust. 
No. I will own Sir, since you approve it:  
Own it to Death, I love him more than Life.  Const. 
O Fausta!  Faust. 
Ha! what now? He turns away.  
He blushes! Gods— I'm lost, betrayed, undone!  
Undone for ever. Crispus is betrayed:  
The innocent Crispus.——.  Const. 
Guilty, guilty Crispus—  
And guilty Fausta! Guilty both to death;  
But most my Son who wrought thee to this ruin.  Faust. 
O say not so. 'Twas Fausta wrought your Son—  
And over Loved him, to his own destruction,  
Therefore as you're powerful be just,  
And let the stroke of Vengeance light on me.  
But Sir for him——  Const. 
For him each Syllable  
Thou plead'st in his behalf but wings his death.  Faust. 
By the just heavens'! And by the Saint that bore you,  
By your Religion Sir, I do conjure you,  
Spair, spair his Innocence—  Const. 
If thou consent,  
That I this night shall wed thee.—  Faust. 
Wed me Constantine!  Const. 
Fausta, Why not?  
Art thou enjoyed already, married? Speak, confess—  
That I may pardon thee—  Faust. 
What you know, you know;  
You have betrayed me once, but shall no more:  
More! There's no more, but that I Love your Son,  
And whether he Loves me, the Gods can tell:  
I know the natural goodness of your temper,  
How e'er transported will not let you kill him.  
Therefore I leave you—  Const. 
Stay and tell me when;  
When I may hope Love's Consummation sure?  Faust. 
When you behold me Wedded to your Son,  
As you engaged, and past your Royal word,  
When after many rolling years I bring you  
A race of smiling Boys to bless your Age,  
To play about your Throne, and be your Caesars:  
Then may your happiness completed be,  
Then may your Eyes the Consummation see,  
But never hope for other joys from me.  Ex. Fausta. Const. 
What Arius! help and free me from this plunge  
Of Love and Nature. She Loves; She Loves to Death;  
And though she hides it, is beloved again.  Arius. 
What's your resolve? To give her to your Son?  Const. 
No Arius; first I'll give her to the Grave—  
Resign my Empire: All—  Arius. 
Then Crispus dies—  Const. 
If he has not enjoyed her, he shall live,  
For that I Loved him once is full as true  
As that, though now he has sinned, I cannot hate him,  
But if enjoyed! How shall I find it out?  
I'll seize and Rack him.  Arius. 
How Sir, Rack your Son!  Const. 
By Heaven 'twas well remembered by a Villain:  
Therefore, I swear thou shalt be Racked thyself.  Arius. 
Who I, my Lord?  Const. 
Ay Villain: Traitor, Thou!  
I'll Rack the Racker, till I find it out;  
For my misgiving Heart says thou know'st more:  
Therefore, when next I see thee, bring me proof,  
She's not enjoyed, her vows and virtue clear;  
Do't, or thy Death shall teach succeeding Kings—  
No more by false reports to be abused—  
But straight confront th' Accuser with the Accused,—  
To prove the Treasons urged against the Throne;—  
Or show the Sycophants that set 'em on:  
So shall the Sovereign power unclouded sway.  
When such Court Devils, shun the glorious Ray,  
And drive like Fogs, before the rising Day,  Exeunt.  
End 3d. Act.   


The Fourth Act: Scene 1st.  Enter Annibal and Serena. Annib. 
THAN you confess you did bespeak the Picture?  
Gods! and you own you Love him! Love the Traitor?  Seren. 
Call him not Traitor, Annibal, he who spoke  
The kindest things of you.  Annib. 
Wondrous kind!  
Accurst dissembler! That could speak for me,  
But acted for himself.  Seren. 
Just contrary.  
For when by signs, which passion could not hide,  
I let him know my Love; he turned away,  
Shaking his head as loath to understand me,  
Anger and pity combating in his Face,  
And with his blushes taught Serena shame.  Annib, 
Shameless himself, and Traitor to my friendship!  
For all I have heard, your Love has forged to save him.  Seren. 
Heaven knows 'tis true! Nothing was left unsaid,  
To his own disgrace and your Immortal Honour:  
In the most melting Terms and sweetest words  
That Heart could think, or Friendship could invent:  
Therefore forgo my Lord, this fruitless passion,  
And speak for Crispus as he spoke for you.  Annib. 
I will; and speak so loud the Gods shall hear me:  
There! Take his Picture, feed your hungry passion,  
Till with my Sword I carve another feast,  
To glut your fatal Eyes—  Seren. 
Hold; Whither go you?  
And what fierce purpose has your Heart in hand?  Annib. 
I'll tell thee: And if possible force a warmth  
In that cold Breast; kindle a dying spark,  
In that inhospitable Land of Love;  
And never see thee more— I go to die,  
To blot my youth and glory from the World;  
Tho Conquest waits my Sword, I swear to die,  
And make thee sport with my untimely fall.  Seren. 
To die! By whom? For what?  Annib. 
For Love of thee.  
But if I suffer by the Hand of Crispus,  
And perjury should prosper in my ruin.  
Then you may revel in each others Arms,  
And laugh indeed at my ridiculous fortune.  
Yet, if revenging Ghosts have power to rise,  
Expect me at the Riot of your joys:  
With hollow Eyes, to stare you in the Face,  
At midnight, look to have your Curtains drawn;  
Expect me in your Bed, a corpse of clay,  
To clasp your trembling Limbs with cold embraces,  
And print my gelid kisses on your Lips,  
So to revenge my death upon your scorn,  
And groan about you till the dawning morn—  Exit. Seren. 
Stay—— and I'll tell thee; 'tis impossible——  
Crispus already is in Love with Fausta——  
He's gone to the execution of his purpose—  
And Crispus must be slain: Why then my Hour  
Of Fate is come: What's that to Crispus murder?  
He's gone to fight; perhaps not give him leave,  
But take the Innocent at unawares;  
Haste after him, and by thy own destruction,  
Prevent both ruins, follow the fate that wafts thee,  
And let no interrupter cross thy passage.  Exit. Enter Constantine, Sylvester, Dalmatius. Const. 
Were you both Fathers, and in Love like me;  
I no more doubt, what you would put in Act,  
Than now I doubt myself, who am resolved.  Dalm. 
On what?  Const. 
On Death.  Sylu. 
Of whom?  Const. 
Of any man  
That knows, yet hides this secret Treason from me.  Dalm. 
Has Crispus owned he love's her?  Const. 
Yes, in effect;  
For when I first revealed this contract to him,  
He stopped me from enjoying her with Oaths.  
He knew her false, forsworn: To whom? To him;  
To him himself: For this last night I proved;  
Drawing the secret from her by a wile,  
Which she before as craftily concealed.  Dalm. 
But have you married and enjoyed her, Sir?  Const. 
O no; the Ceremonies and the dues,  
Without a blush were frontlesly denied:  
In all the Heat of boiling Love denied:  
Not only from possessing her that night,  
But, matchless impudence! denied for ever:  
Now judge if 'tis not fit I should let go  
The struggling Thunder, and destroy 'em both.  Dalm. 
Not both—— for yet you have not heard your Son;  
Hear him but plead——  Const. 
Then let him plead in time.  Ex. Dalm. 
The Bolts are brandished, and 'twill be too late,  
To lift his blasted hands, when I have hurled.  Sylu. 
How far Sir, would your utmost search extend?  Const. 
To know if Actually they have embraced  
Each other, as in will th' have done already.  Sylu. 
Be not too hasty in your Answer Sir,  
If I should ask what then; What then must follow?  Const. 
Death certain, on the instant; imminent Death;  
Death; And I swear not all the Gods shall save him.  Sylu. 
Ruin of piety! Not all the Gods!  
That your Religion?  Const. 
Oh forgive me, Saint,  
I am eaten up with passion: So o're-wrought,  
With racking Love I knew not what I said.  
But if 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 her: By that power  
Whom thou remember'st well, I now adore.  
His Death must wash th' incestuous Guilt away.  Sylu. 
Not Incest, Sir?  Const. 
Not if he has enjoyed her?  Silu. 
No: for to prove the Guilt completed Incest,  
You must have married and enjoyed her first.  Const. 
True; but what makes his Crime deserving Death  
More than imputed Treason, Incest, all;  
All Faults by Art and Nature joined in one.  
If he has touched her, she must ne'er be mine  
And that's a Cause so pointing to his Fate,  
That Death's their due that offer to excuse him.  Silu. 
He comes.— I'm silenced. Nature, now or never.  Enter Crispus and Dalmatius. Crisp. 
O Emperor! for I dare not call you Father,  
Behold me at your Feet prepared for Death.  Const. 
O Crispus! for I must not call thee Son,  
Justice surveys thee as a Criminal.  
But rise then and speak; plead like a Man for Life.  
Come on, and look thy Father in the Face;  
I call thee Traitor, and I'll prove thee one,  
Who impiously, for all my former Love,  
Hast dared to violate my sacred Bed.  
Now answer Criminal. What canst thou say  
That Sentence should not pass upon thy Treason?  Crisp. 
Most awful Emperor, my Judge and Father!  
Father, alas! I would have offered first.  
But since you are not pleased it should be so,  
I'll do as Criminals use, and you command:  
Thus plead my Innocence at your Judgment-Bar;  
If either, Sir, I saw or loved the Princess,  
You were the only Cause, 'twas you that sent me:  
So far from once but hinting this your Contract,  
You told me Sir, her Fate was yet in doubt;  
Which made me wonder when I saw the Virgin,  
So innocent, so beautiful, so young:  
Which Charms did more my Admiration move;  
Wonder begot my Pity; that my Love.  Const. 
But if I told you that her Fate was doubtful,  
I told you too, she was a Foe to Rome;  
Therefore, to think of loving her was Treason.  Crisp. 
If Love be Treason, Sir, I own I am guilty;  
Guilty indeed; because it was a fault,  
In any Case to wed without your Knowledge:  
But yet I hoped, in time you might forgive me;  
And so my Conscience tells me still you would,  
Had you not been engaged yourself before.  Const. 
Rebellion, not thy Pardon, was thy Thought:  
If otherwise, how canst thou answer Traitor,  
For not confessing all when first I met thee?  Crisp. 
Pardon me Sir, for that I had done too,  
Had you not told me first you were betrothed;  
But conscious then, how closely I was linked,  
I durst not tempt your wrath.  Const. 
How closely, Traitor! Hast thou then enjoyed her?  Crisp. 
Can you forgive me?  Const. 
No. By this shaking Flesh  
Tho there thy Mother kneelt too by thy side.  
If thou hast touched her, Death and Curses on thee.  Crisp. 
Oh by those Knees and Hands which I must hold,  
Racks, Racks, and Death; but not your Curses, Sir.  Const. 
If thou wouldst have my Blessing, swear then, swear  
Thou hast not enjoyed her.  Crisp. 
Swear then to forgive me.  Const. 
Forgive thee, Villain! if thou hast possessed her,  
Speak, or be cursed.  Crisp. 
I will: but give me time.  Const. 
Let go. What time? Thou hast confessed already  
By that Demand; I swear thou hast enjoyed her.  Crisp. 
Swear not, and I'll confess this Moment.  Const. 
What!  Crisp. 
O Heaven,  
What if your Son has plighted holy Vows?  Const. 
Why then I make that Vow and Marriage vain.  
Therefore, if thou hast not embraced her yet,  
I charge thee, on my Blessing, never hope it,  
Nor ever think of loving her again.  Crisp. 
Impossibilities! Were you a God,  
And doomed me thus, I could not, Sir, obey you:  
For I have sworn to love her while I have Life;  
And if I love her I must hope Enjoyment.  Const. 
Death then and Curses on thy Disobedience!  
Off Villain! Traitor! grovel there on Earth.  
What, are you Plotters too? nay, then 'tis time  
To haste his Ruin. Ruin is thy doom;  
And winged with all my Curses it shall come.  Ex. with Dalm. & Sylvester. Crisp. 
Dalmatius and Sylvester! Call him back,  
And I'll renounce my Love: Heaven 'tis too much!  
But hark! I hear a Voice cry, Crispus come,  
Come to the thoughtless Grave where all is still.  
It shall be so: up then, and fall a Man.  
Come forth, thou Minister of others Fates,  
And be thy Masters now! Where art thou, Fausta?  
Where is my Love to close my dying Eyes?  Enter Annibal. Annib. 
Ha, Traitor! Art thou then prepared for Death?  Crisp. 
Yes Annibal, I will receive it calmly,  
From any Hand but thine. What have I done  
That he should call me Traitor?  Annib. 
Guard thyself,  
Or else by Heaven thou diest.  Crisp. 
Hold. Is't possible! so quickly?  
Can the desire of Empire lose a Friend!  
My Father I offended, but not Thee;  
Execute then the Ruin which he dooms,  
Ungrateful Man. I will not make Defence,  
But spread my Arms t'embrace the Death he sends me.  Annib. 
What thou deserv'st from him I neither know  
Nor care, resolved upon my own Revenge;  
Not but I think the Man who did his Friend  
So horrible a Wrong as thou hast done,  
Is fit for any Mischief. Therefore guard thee.  Crisp. 
Never to fight with thee; not though my Father  
Should grant my Love. Therefore I sheathe my Sword.  Annib. 
Traitor, Coward.  Crisp. 
Oh Annibal, I know I am no Traitor.  
And thou whose Life I have so oft preserved,  
Know'st but too well I am no Coward.  Annib. 
Draw.  
Draw then, or perish. By the Gods I'll kill thee:  Strikes him with his Sword. 
Be what thou wilt: and take this to provoke thee.  Crisp. 
Well Annibal. 'Tis well. Thou hast done well.  
Yet thus much Villainy am I content to bear;  
No longer, oh ungrateful for thy sake.  
Who injur'st me, yet will not tell the Cause.  
But for thy noble Father I will spare thee,  
Spare thee thus far; so thou resolve to leave me.  Annib. 
Not yet? Why then another?  Crisp. 
But the next  
Be mine: Humanity can bear no further.  Annib. falls. Annib. 
I have my Death: and now my Heart relents—  Crisp. 
Cut off my Hand.  Annib. 
Crispus, thou hast wronged me.  Crisp. 
Speak how, and where?  Enter Serena. Annib. 
See, she comes to tell thee.  
Serena, Oh Serena!  Dies. Crisp. 
Gone for ever!  Seren. 
Oh, never to return! and I, alas,  
Who could not love again, the wretched Cause!  Crisp. 
The Cursed Cause.  Seren. 
Call me not Cursed, Crispus,  
Who think no Blessing equal to thy Love.  Crisp. 
Wert thou a Man, by Heaven such Love I bear thee,  
I think that I should seek thee through the World;  
To give thee Death—  Seren. 
Take then the Death you threaten,  
Prepare to suffer by a Virgin's hand.  Crisp. 
Kill me, and I'll forgive thee Annibal's Death:  
But take this Sword, yet reeking with his Blood,  
And thrust it through my Heart.  Seren. 
Yet hold Serena:  
What will become of him when thou art slain?  
Kill himself last, and that I would prevent.  Crisp. 
Why dost thou stay?  Enter Sylvester. Silu. 
Crispus, I come to tell thee, Thy Further will not hear us.  Seren. 
Take these Swords, Sylvester; bear 'em hence,  
Without Reply,— or Crispus kills himself— Away.  Sylu. 
Crispus Death!  
I thank thee Heaven! that sent me to preserve him.  Exit. Crisp. 
Why hast thou thus delayed my Ruin?  Seren. 
To make thy Torments lasting,  
Live, that my Ghost and Annibal's may haunt thee;  
Yet when I come, believe, for all my threatenings,  
My Soul shall seek thee in a gentle form:  
Court thee to Cells, and to the Garden shade,  
And tell thee there, what Love with us is made;  
What Fires the Fiends for wilful Murder make;  
And what my Spirit suffers for thy sake.  
But hark! I'm called— behold the Dead awake.  
They wast me, Crispus, to the sleepy Shore,  
And I shall never, never see thee more.  Ex. Seren. Crisp. 
She's gone: and takes the means of Death too from me.  
So what's the next? What have the Fates to add  
To my past Sufferings? Lightning blast me,  
Mountains fall on me, gape to the Centre Earth,  
To hide me from my friend.  Enter Dalmatius. Dalm. 
Why my dearest Crispus! but alas—  
In vain I urged thy Father, deaf to all,  
Our prayers, remorseless, rocky and unmoved,  
Yet think not but I pressed with all my Love.  Crisp. 
Therefore in great requital for thy Love  
Look there, and let thy Blood congeal to Stone,  
Behold thy Annibal butchered by this Hand.  Dalm. 
Cold, cold my Boy. Crispus. Have I— have I?  
But I waste time by such unmanly wailing.  
Take to thy Sword.  Crisp. 
Thou seest I've none: but strike—  Dalm. 
What could provoke thee to this horrid deed?  Crisp. 
His jealousy, and Anger of the heavens':  
Jealous I robbed him of Serena's Love.  
He called me Traitor, Coward, struck me twice,  
Before I drew, than ran upon my Sword.  Dalm. 
Whatever happened— I'm a wretched Father,  
And thou hast robbed me of an only Child.  
Therefore hereafter we no more are one,  
Where e'er I go I'll ask before I enter  
If Crispus be not there? that I may shun thee.  
Therefore if thou hast any Gratitude  
For those kind offices, which I have done thee,  
Fly these sad Eyes, as I will run from thine,  
To moan my Son, and howl my life away.  Ex. Dalmatius. Crisp. 
Sol. And whither thou? Thou heap of walking woe!  
Thou that hast pulled thy Father's Curse upon thee;  
Killed thy best friend, and ruined all that Loved thee—  
Where will at last thy Cruel fortune drive thee?  
Hence tear thy Robes: And naked fly the World;  
Unmantled to the Wether, wander on  
To some dark wild, where Sunbeam never shone.  Ex. Crispus.  

Scene II.  Enter Constantine, Arius, Fausta, Sylvester. Faust. 
COnsider Sir his Youth—  Const. 
I have considered all—  
But find thy Love so rooted in my heart  
I must forgo my life, or lose my Claim.  
Yet mark how deep thy tears have wrought my temper,  
If thou wilt swear to null my marriage with him,  
By wedding me in public, and, this night,  
By making me thy Lord—  Faust. 
No Sir, 'tis impossible, yet if you'll swear,  
To save your Son if I should prove him guiltless:  
I'll tell you wonders Sir, which otherwise  
Not Racks shall e'er compel.  Const. 
Forbid it Heaven! I should destroy the guiltless,  
Tho strangers to my blood, much less my Son:  
Therefore I swear by Heaven and all the Saints,  
Prove Crispus innocent he shall not die.  Faust. 
Be witnesses, Oh Arius and Sylvester!  
What he has sworn: Let Crispus straight be called,  
And quitted of his Crime: Run, Arius, haste,  
That I may see the Royal friendship made.  Ex. Arius. Const. 
By an entire surrender of thyself,  
To me.  Faust. 
To Crispus!  Const. 
By all thy former Oaths I swear to me.  Faust. 
I told you, 'twas impossible before,  
And now confirm it.  Const. 
How?  Faust. 
I am married.  Const. 
Curses and Vengeance. Married! say by whom?  Faust. 
To Crispus.  Const. 
When? Thou false one; When? And where?  Faust. 
Here in your Palace, on that happy night,  
Before you made your dreadful triumph.  Const. 
Dreadful indeed: For now the wretch shall die,  
Tho Angels pleaded—  Sylu. 
Emperor, you have sworn.  Const. 
I know it Sir, to spare the innocent blood;  
But I will prove him now.  Faust. 
White as the Saints;  
By all the powers of Heaven and Earth I swear,  
'Twas I that pushed the marriage: Conscious before,  
What I had sworn to you; nay cast the Veil  
Of Modesty aside to make him sure,  
And after Marriage, you may guess the rest.  Const. 
Oh Curses! Vengeance! Curses yet unthought!  
Such Curses as thou wilt let fly at me,  
When thou shalt see his Head beneath the Axe,  
Even Woman's Curses on thee.  Sylu. 
How Sir, the Axe!  Enter Arius with Crispus. Const. 
Dost thou not find the Traitor?  
But see he comes. Oh thou dissembler, answer,  
Didst thou not tell me, when thy life was staked,  
This marriage was not yet consummate, speak.  Crisp. 
'Tis true dread Sir.  Const. 
Mark all he has confessed!  
His own mouth has condemned him— he shall die.  Crisp. 
I owned Sir, I was married— but confessed no further.  Const. 
How Traitor!  
Did I not force the Question often?  Crisp. 
True;  
Which I as often waved with low submissions—  Const. 
Yet those thy low submissions all were lies.  
For well thou know'st thy subtle working wrought me  
To a satisfaction that thou hadst not possessed her.  Crisp. 
That was alas my Crime.  Const. 
That Crime was Treason:  
Purposed abuse. A Plot upon thy Father.  
Nay the whole Cozenage shows thee rank in sin,  
Or Ha!— How know I yet she is enjoyed.  
I have but thy word and hers, and both are Traitors,  
But see my Brother comes to join my Justice.  Enter Dalmatius. Dalm. 
What, Crispus here?  Const. 
Stay, my Dalmatius, stay.  Dalm. 
Your pardon Sir,  
There's one among you, whom I cannot suffer,  
And Crispus knows the Cause.  Exit. Dalm. Crisp. 
Come back, and hear it then,  
Hear thou unhappy Father, hear me own  
The murder which this Cursed hand committed,  
That hand that slew the wretched Annibal.  Const. 
Annibal slain! O Traitor! And by thee!  
Is murder added to thy Treason too?  Crisp. 
It shall not stand me Sir instead, to say,  
Mistaken Annibal forced me to his ruin.  
For see I lay my Body at your Feet,  
And plead for Death, as others beg for Life.  Const. 
Cleanthes take him— Crispus thou shalt die,  
Therefore be this our fatal last farewell—  
One struggle more. His Mother's in his Eyes.  Faust. 
And where's his Father; but in all his form?  
His every grace; his smiles— All but his frowns:  
So exact in Body, Qualities of Mind,  
That if you kill your Son, you kill yourself.  
Oh therefore listen to the call of Nature,  
And once more view him with an Eye of Mercy.  Const. 
I have looked my last, and now am Judge again.  
Cleanthes! Take 'em both: They 're both your Prisoners,  
Crispus and Fausta. Arius— look you to 'em!  
Keep 'em apart; and wait me in my Closet—  
What yet again? 'Tis the last tug of Nature—  
And yet another— Why that sigh uncalled?—  
And these wet Eyes? On— if I longer stay!  
My vows of Justice will dissolve away—  Ex. with Sylvester. Manent Crispus, Fausta, Arius, Guard. Faust. 
Ruin on ruin, let destruction come,  
With all the wings of the most violent death,  
Yet armed with Innocence, I'll face the Gorgon,  
And brave his bloodiest Terrors: But thy death,  
My Crispus death, my spirit cannot bear—  
Therefore I have resolved, and think not Crispus,  
Think not thy tears shall move me from my purpose.  Crisp. 
Speak Fausta; speak, how come these Earthquakes here?  
And these o'reflowing? Why do the sighs redouble?  Faust. 
Because my dearest life; my all; my Crispus,  
Soul of my Soul, that's martyred for thy Love—  
I am resolved rather than see thy death,  
To wed thy Father.—  Crisp. 
Ha! Do I hear thee truly?  
But speak again, for I'll not trust my senses.  Faust. 
To wed him Crispus.  Crisp. 
Sorrow sure distracts thee.—  Faust. 
No— 'tis th' effect of reason—  
That makes me desperate in this last resolve—  Crisp. 
No more of this. Haste, cast the poison up,  
'tis Hell that tempts thee to Eternal ruin.  
Therefore if thou desir'st my spirit should part  
In peace, and leave my Love and blessing with thee;  
Repent this last result of thy despair,  
Lest I conclude thee false.—  Faust. 
How false, my Crispus?  Crisp. 
False to thy Vows, unconstant to thy Love,  
And that thy Soul unable for a ruin,  
Chose rather to sustain an infamous life,  
Then die with honour.  Faust. 
Oh I cannot bear it!  Crisp. 
Not when I beg thee with my latest breath—  Faust. 
Thy death my Dear! And I the hated Cause?  Crisp. 
Therefore I Love thee: And would die again  
For such another proof of thy affection.  Faust. 
As wrought thy death?—  Crisp. 
Thy purpose was to save me,  
And die thyself. Therefore let's fall together—  
Be not cast down, my Fair: But raise thy Eyes,  
Those watery setting Suns, shine forth, my Fausta,  
And make our Love look beautiful in ruin.—  Enter Soldier. Arius. 
The Emperor sends again to have you parted.  Faust. 
Oh Crispus! Whither now?  Crisp. 
To our long name,  
Where purer Spirits drink immortal Air:  
And thin clad Souls in flying Chariots move,  
And give, and take, an everlasting Love.  Faust. 
Such Love grant Heaven, our meeting Souls betide,  
Which no inhuman Father may divide:  
Where at first sight, our minds enlarged may spread;  
Through all the space, and know the mighty Dead.  
Such is my hope: But, Crispus, What my fear?  
If I should seek: But never find you there—  Crisp. 
One last Embrace! Oh Fausta! do not stain,  
Our bliss with fears, we ne'er shall meet again.  
Through all the Heaven in all their Mansions blessed,  
To every Saint my Prayers shall be addressed  
Nor shall the happy taste a moment's rest:  
Till some kind Angel guides my wandering Eyes,  
And shows me where thy charming spirit flies.  
Then Crowned with joys, we never knew before,  
We'll waste the stock of Love's immortal store,  
And cruel fate shall never part us more.  Exeunt.  
End 4th. Act.   


The Fifth Act: Scene 1st.  Enter Dalmatius and Serena. Seren. 
NOw Sir, you have it all, the whole sad story  
Of your unhappy Son, his Love and mine:  
Serena's Guilt, and Crispus Innocence;  
Therefore if you ask blood, and would revenge him;  
Here waits his Murderess, for the stroke of death.  
But hate not Crispus: Hate not the Innocent:  
Much less proceed to the Murder of your friend,  
Your faultless, guiltless, too deserving friend;  
The gentlest, best, of all the Imperial Race.  Dalm. 
No more: There needs no more; my Son is dead:  
Eternal peace attend him: A few sad drops,  
And now no more; Serena, I believe thee.  
My Heart avows th' Innocence of my friend:  
Which I had owned before, had not the wounds  
Of Annibal, lain green upon my Soul;  
But that I now forgive him be thou witness,  
Be witness Heaven, and this last resolution,  
I now put on to save my Crispus life,  
Or lose my own.  Seren. 
O let me kneel to such exalted Virtue.  
But Sir, be quick to save him, or this goodness  
Will come too late.  Dalm. 
Where is the Emperor?  Seren. 
Locked in his Closet, deaf to the People's cries:  
Fly Sir, I saw him pass in fury by,  
With Arius in discourse.  Dalm. 
I fear that Traitor.  Seren. 
Your fears my Lord, are mine. I never liked him,  
The Picture which he gave your Son, has shown him:  
He has all the marks, we Virgins reckon Ominous,  
A pale, down look, red Hair, and leering Eyes,  
Mischief is in him: He's with th' Emperor now,  
Perhaps soliciting the fate we fear.  
I met 'em Sir, and interrupted Caesar;  
Who first received me kindly; but at the name  
Of Crispus frowned, and shook me from his arm.  Dalm. 
Fear not, as thou hast counselled, I will join  
Sylvester on the instant.  Seren. 
Force the door,  
If he refuse to let you in, do all  
That pity, love, and friendship can inspire,  
Do all that I would do, were I Dalmatius.  Ex. Severally.  

Scene II.  Enter Constantine and Arius. The Scene a Bedchamber. A Bowl and a Dagger on the Table. Const. 
ARius!  Arius. 
Sir.  Const. 
I am resolved to be at rest,  
Thou art my friend, Physician, I am sick,  
Sick even to death: Reach me that goblet hither.  
The Dagger too.  Arius. 
Sir.  Const. 
What an easy matter  
It were for any man, in any Case,  
Tho Racked with th' Gout, Stone, any kind of torture,  
With one of these to sleep?  Arius. 
For ever Sir?  Const. 
Right Arius.  Arius. 
Then there is Poison in the Bowl.  Const. 
There is most deadly.  Arius. 
May I, Sir, presume  
To ask for what?  Const. 
Arius, thou art my friend,  
I think too, thou wouldst venture life. Why yes!—  
'Tis Poison, and I'll tell thee too for what:  
To see how long a Dog will be a dying.  
Or say, what if we tried it on a man;  
Some Enemy that Laws will not take hold of?  Arius. 
Sir, I understand you.  Const. 
Look then you do: How dost thou understand me?  Arius. 
Why thus you passed your Oath, your Son should live,  
If, Fausta proved him Innocent.  Const. 
'Tis true:  
And spite of my revenge, my Heart must clear him.  Arius. 
Right Sir, I find it, you are gripped in Conscience,  
Now if a Friend should help you: So: or fate  
Not always answering most men's Expectations,  
Should call your Son to Heaven.  Const. 
To Heaven Arius!  Arius. 
To Heaven, or Hell, it matters not for that,  
So he be out o'th' way, and you not know't.  Const. 
And I not know't?  Arius. 
No Sir, nor I. What then?  
How then! you never see him more.  
And so farewell— I'll take this Poison with me.  Const. 
Stay stay! Come back.  
How strange a guilt is mine, who dare not speak,  
But indirectly, what my Soul desires  
Directly done. Why should I hide my thoughts  
From thee?  Arius. 
Why Sir indeed?  Const. 
When no Eye sees.  Arius. 
None.  Const. 
None but the Eye of Heaven.  
But Walls they say have Ears: Therefore we'll whisper  
This Horrid, Barbarous; and Unnatural Murder!  
Give him his Choice. Tell him I cannot live,  
Unless he dies: Tell him I strove to save him,  
And nature pleaded wonders in his Cause.  Arius. 
I'll stab him first, and tell him after.—  Const. 
No, Poison's the gentler Fate. Thou art too loud—  
O Conscience how it heaves, within my bosom—  Arius. 
Conscience! The Souls rising of the Lights. Drink Blood.—  Const. 
Blood sayst thou! What the Blood of Crispus? Hark!  
Who's there? Run to the Door! Say I am not well,  
I'll not be seen to night.  Arius. 
Your fancy Sir.  Const. 
I thought I heard my Mother's Voice.  
But she's long dead: 'Twas as thou sayst, my fancy,  
My fear, my guilt that haunts me: But begone,  
If he must fall there is no hiding it:  
Call it no longer Murder, but a Justice,  
Survey him as a Thief that robbed thy Soul  
Of all its wealth: Arius— how am I now?  Arius. 
All Emperor. And Sir I'll haste to obey you.  Const. 
Thou shalt: But go not Arius, till I send thee—  
All Emperor, and Judge. But where's the Father?  
Work me there Nature, save him if thou canst;  
Remember him as once thy bosom-love.  Arius. 
I like not this Remembrance.  Const. 
Remember the whole Progress of his Life;  
Obedient all, even in his Infant Years:  
When every Morning to my Bedside he came,  
And as I blessed him, thanked me with his Tears.  Serena knocking without. Seren. 
My Lord, the Emperor.  Const. 
Arius, hark. Who's there?  
Hark, 'tis my Wife. Run to the door. My Wife!  
She's risen from the dead to save my Son.  Seren. 
I will have Audience.  Ari. 
Madam, you must not enter.  Const. 
Arius, Let her in.  Enter Serena. Seren. 
Caesar, Save thy Son;  
Save him in time; the People are in Arms.  
Dalmatius, with the Guards, is gone to quell 'em.  Const. 
How! mutiny? And in my Son's behalf?  
Is this the course to save him? Arius hence—  
And execute my Orders.  Seren. 
May I think it?  
A Bowl of Poison, Sir: Is that your Order?  Const. 
There is no Mystery now to be concealed—  
'Tis as you said: And Crispus dies this Minute.  
Arius away.  Seren. 
He sha'n't, till you hear me.  
Think Sir, oh think!  Const. 
I've thought too much already:  
But with this last Revolt my Heart is steeled;  
Though as you entered I was fooling Time  
With Thoughts of Mercy.  Seren. 
And has this cursed Wretch prevented you?  Const. 
Dalmatius and Sylvester will be here  
To hinder Justice: Break her Hold. Away.  Seren. 
Fall then Serena first. And stay that fury.  Stabs herself. Const. 
Arius, come back. What hast thou done Serena?  Seren. 
I've paid the Debt of Nature ere my Time.  Const. 
'Twas a too honest Part. What was the Cause?  Seren. 
The Love of Crispus: Love of him you hate,  
But let this Victim to Despair suffice.  Enter Dalmatius and Sylvester. 
Your Brother here! Dalmatius pardon me.  
Your Son is now revenged. Restrain the Emperor—  
And look to Arius. Oh!  She dies. Dalm. 
The Joys of Heaven,  
And an eternal Requiem waste thy Soul.  Const. 
Brother, How are the People?  Dalm. 
All hushed again.  
Why will you harbour, Sir, that Snake about you,  
That puts you on these fatal Resolutions?  
For, else could it be possible a Prince  
So good, so full of every Kingly Grace,  
Should once conceive a Thought to put his Son,  
His guiltless Son, to an untimely Death,  
Without the Instigation of a Devil?  Sylu. 
Consider, Caesar, you that have had the Glory  
By Miracles from Heaven to be converted:  
We know your Passion manacles your Reason;  
But here are Hands to help you.  Const. 
Is that then the Result of all your Reason?  
To hope for sober Actions from a Madman?  Dalm. 
Not till the Frenzy leaves him. But we know  
You are not so far gone, to lose all Temper.  
Your Hopes, and Fears, your broken Resolutions,  
Are Symptoms all of a most noble Nature,  
Where Judgement seems half sunk, but not quite drowned.  Const. 
Why this I can allege as well as you;  
I know the Laurels which I've worn so long  
Must wither: If my Son should find a Grave,  
My present Fame, and Glory too hereafter,  
Is all upon the hazard: But what then?  
I see the Storm before me threatening Wrack,  
I see the Shelves, but who can point the Shore?  Syl. 
Cast overboard the Casket of your Love.  
I know 'tis precious; but 'twill sink you, Sir.  
Divorce her, Sir; and give her to your Son.  Const. 
For go my Fausta! 'tis impossible.  Dalm. 
Nothing's Impossible to a Mind resolved:  
But pass beyond Sylvester's mild Remonstrance,  
And ease your Love by Death, by Fausta's Death.  
When she is passed Recall you'll love no more;  
Envy no more.  Const. 
If that could be resolved—  
The Conquest were a great one.  Dalm. 
The more you think, the more the Thought will strike you.  
See but the difference of Counsellors;  
What Colours good and bad can give to Reason.  
Had Arius stayed, by this time you had doomed  
Your Son to Death; who now have gained the Conquest.  Const. 
Would half were gained: yet, since the Start was noble,  
I'll try to win in this Olympic Race.  
Tho hilly all the way, and at the Goal  
The Summit touches Heaven.  Dalm. 
Urge the Necessity; she or Crispus dies:  
Th' innocent Crispus, or the guilty Fausta  
That after all her Vows, could thus deceive you.  
Deceive you both. Who if your Son were dead,  
No doubt, as quick would practise with another.  Const. 
By Heaven, why not? She that could swear, and was,  
Forsworn, may swear and be forsworn again:  
Oh! I remember now with what a Look,  
An Angel-look, she vowed.  Dalm. 
Yet with that Look,  
This Angel, like a Devil, drew in your Son:  
Methinks the very grossness of the Cheat  
Should make you loathe her.  Const. 
Ha!  Dalm. 
Detest and scorn her.  Const. 
Scorn on her Scorn, and Death Disdain succeed;  
By Majesty, by Empire, she shall bleed.  Silu. 
Banish her, Caesar.—  Dalm. 
No Sir; Death, or nothing.  
Banish her to day, and she'll be here to morrow:  
Down with her, down; dwell on her perjured Vows,  
When the same Breath that swore her yours for ever  
Damned her another's.  Const. 
Arius, bring her forth.  
She dies! I'll sweat and bleed, but I will conquer—  
Call, call my Son.— Henceforth but name a Woman,  
'Tis Treason to my Ear: Why, what a Plague  
Might she have here engendered! Forced a Father  
To put his guiltless Son to horrid Death.  Dalm. 
Royally urged. By Heaven 'twas ever thus.  
Where Women had to do. Therefore behold her  
As a Gangreen to the State.  Const. 
And cut her off.  Dalm. 
The Bane of Empire—  Const. 
And the Rot of Power!  
Yet there I'll stay and fix my Imagination,  
On all their Mischiefs, Murders, Massacres.  
And Seas of Blood they have spilled in former Ages.  
Woman, no more. And when my Heart is going,  
Sound but that Name, the powerful spell shall bind  
Beyond Circean and Egyptian Charms,  
'Twill raise the lowest Devils up in swarms,  
Unhinge the Globe, and put the World in Arms.  
Woman that dooms us all to one sure Grave,  
And faster damns than Providence can save.  Exit. Enter Constantine and Fausta. Const. 
Fausta, thou art'false, forsworn.  Faust. 
I say so too.  Const. 
Therefore shalt die.  Faust. 
I have no other Wish.  Const. 
What, not to live,  
If I should pardon thee?  Faust. 
That were Life indeed;  
To gain your Pardon, and to live for Crispus.  Const. 
No, Wretch! remember as you swore to me,  
I now return; it is impossible.  
Yet thou shalt die for Crispus.  Faust. 
And not with him, Sir?  Const. 
No; I've decreed  
That thou shalt die to save him.  Faust. 
But have you, Sir, decreed to love him too  
On Fausta's Death?  Const. 
I have.  Faust. 
Oh! than the Gods  
Have heard my Prayers, which, next to living for him,  
Was, still to die to save him.  Faust. 
Yet grant me Sir in Death  
One last Farewell.  Const. 
No; thou hast looked thy last.  Faust. 
Yet you may let 'em bear me by his Window;  
If it be possible to snatch a Glance,  
And not delay my Execution, Sir.  Const. 
She weeps; and there is Magic in her Tears.  
I shall weep too. Bring forth the Poison. Haste—  
She shall not stay the making of a Bath.  
What Arius!  Ari. 
Sir.  Const. 
Give her the Poison. Haste and see her die.  Faust. 
Stay Sir, come back. I have no load upon me—  
But what you all may know: give me the Bowl;  
I'll drink it for my Love. Alas my Lord,  
Methinks one last farewell, had not been much;  
But since you judge it Sir unfit— I'll die,  
Without complaining. Therefore tell my Love—  
That my last Prayer was for his life and yours.  Const. 
Hold Fausta: Arius, take the Poison from her,  
And bring the Bath. My Son shall see her die,  
Call Crispus hither, since her Fates decreed,  
'Twere just he should be hardened with the view.  
She weeps again. And with the trick unmans me,  
Spite of my vows, she works my Lion Heart  
And melts me into Love. How fares my Fausta?  Faust. 
Sir.  Const. 
Thy hand before we part for ever. Fausta—  
I am lost— I'm vanquished. With a touch o'ercome—  Dalm. 
Wake Sir. Where are you?  Const. 
Ha!  Dalm. 
Sylvester's here:  
And Crispus waits.  Const. 
Why then she dies again.  
Haste, Bring him in, bring him to my relief.  
The earning of a Father comes upon me,  
And my Soul longs to meet him. Fausta, turn;  
Turn thy bright Eyes on death: And carry fires  
To scorch new Worlds; but warm the old no more.  
For here's the rising Sun, to eclipse thy beams.  Enter Crispus with Sylvester. 
O Crispus! Who that has beheld our distance?  
That infinite space that passion cast betwixt us,  
Would e'er have thought we thus should meet again?  Crisp. 
What can be added, Heaven, to such a kindness!  Const. 
What Crispus! What indeed to make it lasting?  
Seest thou that fair one?  Crisp. 
Sir, you give me hopes; Tho dashed with fears.  
But hold, perhaps I have to death offended,  
For sinning but in wish: A dawning joy,  
Shines in her Eyes, and revels in her smiles,  
Which seem to tell me, we shall both be happy.  Const. 
Wouldst thou be happy in thy Father's Love?  Crisp. 
Judge me you Powers, if that be not my thought;  
The utmost reach of my extended Soul,  
Which knows no other wish, but Fausta's Love—  Const. 
And that's the Love, which you, by my example  
Must learn to hate.  Crisp. 
To hate Sir! What?  Const. 
Hate thy Love:  
Or what's all one, to bear the effect of hate,  
Her execution here before thy Eyes.  Crisp. 
My Fausta's death?  Scene draws. Arius, Labienus, Eubolus, with a Bath. Const. 
Behold the Poisoned Bath.  Crisp. 
For me— I am ready Sir. Haste, Launch my Veins:  
You that are destined here for my Destruction,  
Unrobe me— haste—  Const. 
None touch him, on your lives.  
They may as safely Launch their Emperor,  
As wound his Son. But Fausta must prepare,  
There is no other way to reconcile us.  Crisp. 
Then hold me Sir, at everlasting distance,  
Cast me again for ever from your sight.  
Banish me; Curse me, as you did before—  
But make not Fausta's death the Cursed cause,  
To save this Villain's life. This hangman Traitor,  
Nay Coward that can live and hear her threatened!  Faust. 
My Love, my Lord, Blame not thy noble Father,  
Nor Curse thyself, for this was all my seeking.—  Crisp. 
Thy seeking. Ha! And seekest thou my embraces—  
After the base dishonour thou hast done me?  
Hence from my Arms—  Faust. 
I will not, I will hold thee  
To my last gasp, and grasp thee after death,  
Why push me yet again: Nay, strike me Crispus,  
I will not leave thy Bosom.  Crisp. 
See he's going—  
By my blessed Mother's Soul, let me come at him—  Const. 
Arius, see it done.  
All Prayers are vain; some of you, break his hold.  Crisp. 
Dalmatius and Sylvester will not sure,  
And for the rest, let me but see who dares.  Const. 
Their Emperor commands 'em— help to force him,  
I charge thee Crispus, leave me,  
And dare not by this wilfulness provoke me.  Crisp. 
I have no wilfulness: But these stubborn Tears  
Hear my last sighs. For groans quite choke my words,  
My Fausta's life: Or break my heart before you.  Faust. 
Sir, do not hear him, snatch yourself away,  
And leave us here— I'll hush him e'er I die;  
And send him weeping to you for his Pardón.  Const. 
He sees 'tis vain. And has let go his hold.  
Withdraw— yet Brother, we'll observe unseen—  
I do not like this sudden fullenness—  
Fausta farewell, Arius dispatch. No more.  Exeunt. Crispus, Arius, Fausta. Executioners. Faust. 
Now Crispus: Now my Dear, wilt thou forgive me  
This glorious Conquest of Triumphing Love?  Crisp. 
No: By my Soul, and by my hopes of Heaven,  
Not at thy parting groan, will I forgive thee.  
But rather Curse the hour, when first I saw thee,  
Curse our first Kisses, Marriage and Embraces,  
Unless thou join me— Ha— come forwarder:  
With Arius, join me, to provide some means,  
That I may bear thee company in Death.  
If this thou dost deny me, by the Saints,  
By all our Loves— I swear thou never Lov'st me—  Arius. 
By Heaven my Lord I pity you; and if—  Faust. 
If Arius! What? Thou wilt not join his madness?  Crisp. 
Hark Arius: By our friendship— I conjure thee,  
For I have sworn I will not eat nor drink:  
Tho I survive this hour—  Arius. 
I have the means.  Crisp. 
A Dagger. Blessings on thee— Give't me I say—  Faust. 
Arius, thou art a Villain!  Crisp. 
I'll tell my Father, that I forced it from thee.  Faust. 
Keep, Keep it from him, or I'll tell the Emperor,  
'Twas you that first betrayed him to my Love;  
And Married us.  Arius. 
Hold Madam! Let me beg you—  Crisp. 
Now Love, I am for thee.  Faust. 
No! I'll call the Emperor.  
Oh that damned Villain, Traitor, Devil, Arius.  
Help there without. Crispus is Murdered. Help—  Arius. 
Nay then 'tis time to fly—  Constatine meets him 〈…〉 est. Const. 
Yes Fiend, to Hell,  
Where thou shalt make thy Damned account.— In with him—  
Cast the unblooded Villain in the Bath,  
Which he prepared for others: Throw him in.  Arius. 
Hold Sir, the Bath's not Poisoned.  Const. 
How!  Arius. 
Compassion, for your Emprèss,  
Made me contrive this only way to save her.  Const. 
Thou hast done well. Yet in with him, to try.  Arius. 
Hold Sir! And I'll confess, it is, it is,  
'Tis Poisoned—— Pardon.  Const. 
Down with him, keep him down  
Till he be dead. Then give him to his Slaves.—  The Bath sinks with him. 
O Crispus— Why? Why dost thou Eye me thus  
With snatched regards? Why dost thou Eye thy Father?  
Now looking on thy Dagger, now on Fausta—  
As if 'twere possible to deny her still?  Crispus. 
Deny her? Why Sir? Mean you then to give her?  Const. 
Or let me stand a Curse to after Ages.  
It is the hand of Heaven, not mine that gives her:  
The Treasons of the perjured Arius  
So turn my Soul, and quite reduce my reason,  
That I will give her thee without a Pang.  
Take her my Son, And with her all the blessings,  
And all the Love, my loaded Bosom bears;  
The Dews of Heaven, and these thy Father's Tears.  Crisp. 
Oh Joys!  Faust. 
Oh Heaven!  Crisp. 
Fausta!  Faust. 
Crispus! Caesar!  Crisp. 
Father!  
But let us prostrate— as a God, approach him—  
Thou glorious Image of the Deity!  
What shall we answer?  Const. 
Crispus! Fausta— Nothing;  
Nothing but rise, and take me in your Arms.  
Thus brooding o'er you with a fruitful Joy,  
I prophesy by my example led;  
Such Love and peace, through all the World shall spread;  
And Roman Arts that British Isle adorn,  
Where Helena Deceased, and I was Born.  
While Crispus thus, to Fausta's Love, I give:  
And both for ever, in my Bosom live.  Ex. Omnes.   
FINIS.