PAUSANIAS' THE BETRAYER OF HIS COUNTRY. A TRAGEDY, Acted at the Theatre Royal, By his MAJESTY'S SERVANTS. Written by a Person of Quality. LONDON: Printed for Abel Roper, E. Wilkinson, and Roger Clavell in Fleetstreet. 1696. TO Anto. Henly Esq Of the Grange in Hampshire. SIR, I'M sorry for't, and beg your Pardon, like a Hangman in the Compliment of his Office: but you were doomed to fall under the Fate of your Favours to Me, and a Dedication was to light upon you, one time, or other: since the sentence was past, I thought I could not execute it, with a greater justice to the trust I am engaged in, or with more favour to you, than by bringing You upon the Stage, in the defence of a Cause, which you may so Honourably maintain: besides the present Obligation of your very good Epilogue, if I had been inclining to be merciful, made it impossible to Reprieve You any longer. This Play was put into my hands by a Man of Quality; Sink, or Swim, his Fortune was not embarked in this bottom; secure in the Reputation of very good Sense, he built for the Experiment, upon the Model of the Ancients, and according to the reformation of the French Stage: Here is their singleness of Action, which does not so well agree with our dispositions to variety: An Action too, that seems intended to Instruct, rather than to Please, which the greatest part of an Audience would never be in the humour to thank him for neither. What he designed, he has Masterly performed. And if Love (which begets all the success of the Stage) had fallen into his subject, he would have recommended that Passion as engagingly to the Ladies, and drawn it as near their Wishes, as any thing in Picture could do. The Author had his reasons for the choice of this Story; and I have many to convince Me, that he could not have failed in any other. You will find it written, to be Envied, rather than Excelled, and in some places, with an Elevation, above the pitch of the Stage. Some things will need your Patronage, but many will deserve it; so the pleasure will recompense the pains of defending them. Sir, I am satisfied I should not pretend to guide you, who have so many Lights of your Own, who have not only a thorough insight to Poetry in general, and can try it by its own Laws, but examine it by the rules of other Arts too, for you can discover through the Perspective of Painting whether the Parts are in Proportion, or no. With these qualifications, and inspired with the Soul of Music too, you must be allowed a Judge of these performances; as such, in justice to this cause, you are appealed to by Sir, Your very Humble Servant Tho. Southern. PROLOGUE, Written by an Unknown Hand; Spoken by Mr. Horden. NEW Plays have been so frequent, all this Season; We must believe You're tired, and you have Reason: Some, like Rich Timon's Feasts, have pleased your palates, Others have proved, damned Apemantus Sallates, What e'er has happened, or how e'er disgraced, We hope this night to put Your Mouths in taste: The Season of the Year our Rival grows, The Country, and the Park, are constant Foes, Which to our thoughts, like Blazing Stars appear, Foretelling our worst Fate, an Empty Theatre, Empty not only of our Noble Friends, Whom Love of Wit, or Beauty, hither sends, But even our Gests o'th' Gallery will leave Us: The Emperor of the Moon, will now deceive Vs. Nay, which is stranger yet (We han't forgot.) The very Masques, will tell you they're too hot: The Poets now Spurring their jaded Brains, Write not for Summer Laurels, but Winter gains; Winter is their Campaign, as well as Ours: Give us the Profit, be the Pleasure yours. While thus We sigh, while thus your Absense mourn, Double our joys with Hastening your Return: Since we must soon, we'll strive to Leave you easy: we're in no other Plot, but how to Please you. EPILOGUE, Spoken by Mrs. Verbruggen. 'TIs sign the Poets young: is this an Age To teach you rigid Virtue on the Stage? In good Queen Bess' days 'twas well enuff: But now 'tis more Ridiculous than a Ruff. Knav'ry is grown the Nations Darling Sin, And tho' a Thousand Foreign Modes comes in, Yet (like a Shirt) that's still worn next your Skin. 'twas said, the French would fain Invade the Nation, And here, and there made Mighty Preparation: 'Tis even so Bad, 'tis hardly Worth their having, At least the Beauxs wont think it Worth their Saving: And We should treat him, as an Innovator Who wastes his brains, in Hopes to make it Better. Lady's confess the truth, you'd all be Loath To change your several Teas for Spartan Broth, And should your Lovers be obliged to expose Themselves abroad against their Countries Foes, The Nation were Undone: there must be some To make the Money Circulate at home. Should Spartan Laws prevail, I'm very certain Twoved runie many an Honest Gentleman's Fortune. The Sharpers would be Damnably unwilling To have an Act to Encourage General stealing. No, no, that would their Property Invade: joynt-stocks are best to Manage such a Trade. Let Us be what we are: since 'tis our Curse, ne'er to have Changed but once— but for the worse: And even then (Nature so much prevails) For Leeks, and Slavery, we would truck Our Quails. Or else what mean Nonswearing Pulpit-Praters? Protestant Popish Plots, and Non-Associators? Our honest Spartans should not show their Faces, Where none are Patriots, but for want of Places. Persons Represented. Pausanias', Regent of Sparta, Mr. Verbruggen. Argilius a Noble Youth bred up by Pausanias. Mr. powel. Artabazus, Ambassador from Persia. Mr. Cibber. Polaemon, one of the Ephori. Mr. Pinkeman. Lysander, Friend to Argilius. Mr. Horden. Ephori and Servants. Anchilthea, Mother to Pausanias. Mrs. Rogers. Pandora, a Persian Lady Mistress to Pausanius. Mrs. Knight. Demetria, a Rich Spartan Widow. Mrs. Verbruggen. Mawkine, her Daughter Mrs. Lucas. SCENE Lacedaemon. Pausanius THE Betrayer of his Country. ACT I. SCENE I. Pausanias' Apartment. Enter Pausanias, Argilius. Arg. WHat shall I say to him? Paus. He must come in. Argilius goes to the door. The Officious Fool brings me news from the Ephori, To which Honour I got him this year Elected. He is my Creature, such tools must be had. He has just sense to find he is of Use, And therefore knows he may be troublesome: I must have patience. Enter Polaemon. Pol. I beg your Grace's pardon for disturbing your retirement. Paus. Oh you are ever welcome dear Polaemon. Pol. But my Lord I was with Child till I had given you an account of what has passed in our Senate just now, we have had huge doings, you know who my Lord, I need not tell you my Lord, his name begins with a C. he gets me up and with his wonted gravity, with a pox to him, makes a most tearing Speech against the Persianites, no better titles he gave us than Traitors to our Liberty, our Country and our Laws; Laws quotha, I thought he'd ne'er ha' done with his Laws; he throated you out Laws, Laws Laws for an hour together, I stood up my Lord, and what do me I, my Lord, but— but wished the Devil had him, and his Laws, I never had so much of the Laws in my Head in all my life; my head does so sing of his Laws, that I don't know what to do my Lord, I am quite and clean deaf with 'em. Paus. Well Polaemon and what then? Pol. My Lord? Paus. How did our Friends take it? Pol. A— Plague of his Laws, I can't hear a word my Lord. Paus. Eternal blockhead how shall I endure him? aside. Pol. Why truly my Lord you'll find it a hard matter, he is never to be gained over to us my Lord, he is a bitter Enemy to Persia and to your Lordship. Paus. No matter, I fear him not Polaemon. Pol. The Laws, did your Lordship say any thing of the Laws? Paus. I say I fear him not. loud. Pol. Oh ho you fear him not, no hang him, fear him but then my Lord don't think we had nothing to say to this grim Gentleman, we told him he was of the Sect of Lycurgus, and would set up a Democracy amongst us, an Athenian in his heart, and then railed at Democracy, and said 'twas a nasty slovenly Government, and not fit for a Gentleman, and then the most Tyrannical Government of all, he had need talk against Tyranny indeed— pray what did your Lordship say? Paus. Nothing Polaemon nothing. Pol. Ay my Lord, as you say, their we were even with his Laws; but then he began to reflect upon you with a side wind methought; by Juno's bedstaff I grew into choler then and said, and said, and said— my Lord— Paus. Ay you did so, my Lord Polaemon I thank you kindly, you have spent yourself with Zeal, I advise you to go home, and refresh yourself my dear Friend,— and be Crucified. aside. Pol. And so I will, my Lord, for indeed I am in a very bad way— but my Lord I did what I is going & returns. could to serve you, and so did some body else that you little think off, for my Lord to tell you the whole thing as it happened— Paus. Nay, nay, you are not well: I must take care of you: you shall go home. goes with him towards the door. Pau. Impertinence, and busy Knaves increase the weight Of all those deeper cares, which load exalted State. But there's a rising Pleasure still in being great. Argilius comes to him. Argilius, thou art always my retreat From Crowds, and Fools. I would retire awhile: Thy Friendship be my guard. Some minutes hence. I must confer with thee. Exit. Arg. I will attend— A knockin, Argilius goes to the door. The Ambassador of Persia by his knocking. The door opened, the Ambassador enters in haste. Amb. Where's the Regent? The Lord Pausanias? Arg. my Lord, he has commanded Stops him. None shall have admittance farther. Amb. Prithee, fond Youth, I must, and will go in. Arg. my Lord, you have forgot Thermopylae: You may have heard Spartans can keep a pass. Amb. What do you mean. Arg. To act Leomidas, To learn from him the lesson of my duty, To Stand against a Persian Army, and In such a cause, die in my Post like him. Amb. Noble Argilius I commend thy truth: More than a thousand Trials I have known. Arg. Then this might have been spared. Amb. Come, we are Friends. Here is a pledge, you shall accept this trifle, Offers him a Ring. A kind forerunner of succeeding Love. Arg. My Lord, I serve the Regent out of Love, And am a Spartan, Sir, of Noble Blood, We Spartans ne'er take gifts from Foreigners: If there be found such honest Men, that do: At least I know my duty to my Country. Amb. Well then I must find out some other way, To prove my just Esteem— My interest with the Regent shall be used, To raise his kindness equal to your merit. Arg. My Lord, the Regent now comes forth himself. Enter Pausanias. Pau. My Lord Ambassador, You have been here some time. Amb. I did not think it long. I was delighted with the company Of sweet Argilius: his Spartan honesty, And wondrous faithful love he bears to you, Trust me, deserve the friendship you have for him. Pau. His Spartan honesty! I like it not; Pretended Liberty, and saucy Pride: There's nothing good that's Spartan— But kind advice, like gently falling showers, Will wash a stain out of the hardest marble: I hope it will, Argilius. By the bright Sun I love thee, as I ought, and can no more, Thou One Example of a faithful Friend! Amb. Emportant business, and my zeal to serve you Brought me thus early— Pau. Retire Argilius, We must be private. Keep off the buzzing crowd of fawning Rascals; Those teazing Candidates for Places, and Preferment, Filling the restless Courts of great Ones, With lies, and feathers, falsehood and perfume. Arg. Would to the Gods I could prevent your ruin, As sure, as that Ambassador designs it. Exit. Pau. So, now no more Ambassador, but Friend. Dear Artabazus, tell me, hast thou ought Received from Persia? Amb. Long live my Master, the great King, and you The backward fruit, which you despaired to taste, Behold this moment to perfection brought, And here's the Sun, that ripens it. gives him a Letter. Pau. I know well the policy of Xerxes, Deep, Universal, hid in time to come, With such dexterity performed, that all The lazy Counsels of the World are stunned, Nor can they fend the blow. Amb. His Letter will inform you. Pausanias reads. Thus saith King Xerxes to Pausanias. As for all thy kindness, and sufferings on my account the benefit is laid up in our house, indelibly registered for ever; my Daughter also is thine, as thou desirest; let neither night nor day, make thee remiss in what thou hast promised Me; neither be thou hindered by the expense of Gold, or Silver; I have a hundred thousand Men lie ready at Rhodes, who wait thy orders to Set sail for Greece: with Artabazus do boldly Mine, and thine own business, as shall be most fit for the dignity of Us both. Amb. What think you now my Lord? Pau. As One, whom Nature made imperfect, Whose Mother gave him blind into the World, Hearing of day, or light, or the bright Sun, Cannot conceive, but thinks 'tis mockery; Or that he is in Nature's Work house still, Conversing with unfinished beings, like himself: His faculties, like false Lotteries, most Blanks: Few his Ideas, dark, and unstampt the rest: They tell him it indeed, but all his Sense Just gives him power to feel himself a Man: If in a moment, the dark curtain drawn, Darkness is couched, and light springs all around, Like him, I stand aghast, like him admire: Hush with enlightened joy my other senses lie, And I forget to speak. Amb. Blessed be the glorious Ruler of the day, Blessed the great Xerxes, and my Lord Pausanias O! be not silent, Sir but give your pleased Resentment way. Pau. Gods! the Stupendious, goodness of the King! Kind, as he's great! he calls his interest, Mine. And with a hundred thousand Swords, offers To make it good. All my misfortunes, all My former sufferings are now pleasures to me, Since they have given me favour with the King. O! that I could deserve such condescension! Ay, there's the point, good Artabazus, how O! tell me, how? Amb. Sir, you deserve it all, you are his Friend. Pau. O! now you flatter me. Amb. My dearest Lord, you know your Artabazus Better. He bids me tell you, Sir he has enuff In having you his Friend, and hopes his actions Will well persuade the generous Pausanias Still to continue so. Pau. He asks my Friendship, desires to make me Great In both my growing happiness is sure: But to be known his Friend, is to be great. He asks my friendship, he should have asked my life: All that I am, or have, is his. He, he desires To make me great, Xerxes, that God on Earth! I should desire it, he can make me so. Tell him I'm Guardian to an Infant King, An Infant too he'll find himself in power When I no more am Regent, a Servant to The Ephori, a King in naught but name, I would be Lord of the Inheritance, A King to all the purposes of Power, A King indeed, to every thing, but Xerxes. And unless I can make him absolute Supreme of Greece, I wonot be at all. Amb. Spoke like yourself my Lord. Pau. But yet, I know not what, methinks I fear The crafty Ephori again may find us out, And prove too Powerful. Amb. Pausanias' fear! the trembling Ephori will scarce Have time to fear, if you will push: in such A readiness things are; so near the Goal, You cannot miss the way, or lose the Prize. Dispatch your orders then, and call the Persians in. They'll bring such tools with 'em, will quickly free Th' imprisoned Crown, cleanse every Jewel there, And bnrnish the dim Gold, made cheap, and soiled With saucy handling of the Populace. Not the least rust, lest speak of liberty Shall scape the file, till bright, and glittering The Royal Circles set upon your worthy Head. Paus. O you transport Me! Amb. Millions of dazzling streams from every side Shall shoot, making the slavish Ephori first behold The King despotic darted in their eyes. Paus. O! what a pleasure such a day would bring, To humble Sparta with an enraged King? Amb. But two Sweet words shall then make all the Law, — I will— those charming, Royal words— I will. With resty Laws, volumnious Statutes, Rights, Charters, and privileges (dusty heaps Of those worm eaten Monuments of power) Vast bonfires shall be built— Paus. Like beacons blaze, To show the coming wrath of Majesty: These are fit victims to the Sovereignty. Xerxes shall see my Triumph, and shall be The Lord of humbled Greece, and Lord of Me. O you immortal Powers! Amb. Riches, and Force will make you great abroad, As you'll be Idolised, and Feared at home. You'll be as jove himself, who reigns above, Absolute Lord, and not to be controlled. Dispatch your orders then, and bring the Persians in. Paus. I will be sudden— stay— I had forgot— A hundred Thousand let me pause on them. aside. The Spartan Army being sent abroad To War with the Athenians, The Friends my Interest can raise at home, With the assistance of the Helots' (whom Upon their promised Freedom I have gained) Are strength enough to execute the Deed. Amb. It works, it cannot fail. Paus. To morrow is the day appointed, for The general insurrection: then what need Of Persians? they may hinder my more deep designs. Dear Artebazus, I will to Pandora, 'Tis very fit she know this mighty news, She'll bear a joyful part. Amb. But now, my Lord, the wind sits fair from Rhodes. Consider, Sir, what mischief may produce Delay in this conjuncture— Greece waits to call you King of Sparta too: Can you be great too soon? Then Sir make haste, and bring the Persians in. Paus. She, who has born a share in all my labours, She, who inspired Me first with love, and zeal For the great Xerxes Royal interest▪ Pandora, who has left Luxurious Persia, Contented with hard Spartan entertainment, Advised in our most secret Councils, Must have a share too in our hopes and joy. To her I must this welcome news impart: No time is lost, where gratitude is paid. You meet me there retires. Ambassador alone. Amb. What does he mean? 'tis the first time I've failed. I have not studied thee so long, Pausanias, To be taught cunning by thee at last. My tool thou hast been, and my tool shalt be. So the good labouring Hound, with eager chase, Pursues the Game, his sporting Master eats: Encouraged, Praised, his youth, and strength he wastes, Till growing old, and having done his most, The useless cur is hanged— His Mistress is a Persian, and our Pensioner, And which is well, last night she had a Jewel From me, worth a Province: Cunning she is, And knows our drift; and now the last stake Is playing, may prevent Us; first, because She loves Pausanias; then, which I think May be the stronger with her, she well knows She parts with her dear profit, if she loses him— That must be answered, and made up to her. Rich Petticoats, Rich Jewels, Furniture, And Equipage, don't always come from visible Estates. I must exert my utmost cunning with her, Before his business gives him time to see her, For on this turn depends our whole design. If I succeed, I have served my Master well. The Spartan Army by this time may be Well beaten by the Athenians; be it so. Such numbers Landing will be quickly known— But then We know the Spartan temper too, Lazy in Preparation, and, they think, To brave to need to be upon their guard. Their Troops at home, raw, and undisciplined, Ours seasoned, and long practised in their trade. Hast, Artabazus, haste, the means prepare, And bring 'em in, to make new Conquests here. Exit. Pausanias enters. Pau. Now to Pandora— I'll stop the Persian Army. What need of strangers, when our Friends can do't? Pleased with my promises, 'tis true, I've had Some of their Persian Gold, employed it too To serve my own, and not their Interest. Vain Xerxes! think'st thou I'm to toil for thee? And only Conquer for a Spartan Crown? No, tho' ruin I design, and rather than fail, I would call in, and even assist thy arms, Yet first I'll try to get the spoil myself. Greece I design shall fall, and Crown With Sovereign Rule my pains alone. When General of the Grecian force, I drove Almost three hundred thousand Persians, Mardonius slain, from famed Platea's fields. Then I sought glory with my Countries good. Now with its undoing, still I seek for glory. Honour, that cheats the World, is but a Name: 'Tis waste, and ruin lead the way to Fame. Exit. The End of the First Act. ACT II. SCENE I. A Public Place. Enter Argilius. Arg. I Left Pausanias in Pandora's lodgings, Where Love alone now does not entertain 'em: Something of mighty consequence, and Ill, I fear, is hatching. The Minister of Mischief, Artabazus, is very busy Besides Commanded By the Regent to withdraw, as I went out, I heard Pandora say, the Persians, my Lord, Are trusty Friends, and I a Persian, first Salute you King— a King! Is not the Young Plistarchus living? Does not each man enjoy his property? Security and Peace reigns thro'out Sparta, Justice and Mercy flowing, from the throne, And like the Sun, give comfort every where; What revolution can bring better days? Pausanias, 'tis Ambition leads thee on: When thou art blindly fallen into the snare; Too late thou'lt find thy flattering hopes deceive thee. I'll to the Princess Anchilthea, Acquaint her with my fears,— A Mother's Council with a Mother's love, May all the Gods assist, and change his Mind. Enter Lysander. Lys. My dear Argilius good Morrow, I know When you get into this Piazza, you are in a Melancholy way. Arg. You know my Temper Lysander and I wonder at your goodness that you can bear with me, you that are all Spirit and Fire, and never knew one minutes care, would I could say as much. Lys. Why what in the Name of Pluto would ye have? You are the Regent's favourite, you swim in the Stream of Prosperity and all the World courts you, Men and Women, and may if you will enjoy the Charming'st Creature Umph Pandora— Umph. Arg. Not a word of that Lysander their's none but you must know it, besides I have told you my Resolution. Lys. Ay to be inexorable out of a point of Friendship and Gratitude to the Regent; 'tis all Spleen, damned spleen, where's Friendship or Gratitude when a fine Woman comes a cross one? there's nothing thought of but how to get her; and if you think otherwise you are ungrateful to yourself. To quit Friendship in such a Case, were no more than to rifle the Temple and Debauch a pretty Priestress; and that I've done afore now. Arg. Nay thou art rakehell enough that's the truth on't, but since you say I have the Spleen so much, pray give me a remedy. Lys. I could prescribe many, but here's one just now falls in my way, you know my Old cross Father like all other Old fellows, when they cant enjoy no more themselves, grow malicious, and hinder us as much as they can, out of a pretence of making us virtuous and sober, forsooth, and if they can find no other way to Plague us, than they clinch us with a Wife, and that Faith is most commonly plague enough, for I'd fain know any thing so sneaking and foolish a sight, as a young Fellow that has been Married but half a year? Arg. What! than I find that's like to be your case you set it off so feelingly. Lys. No, 'tis not like to be my Case I promise you; by jove I am a Spartan, and love Liberty, he that's indifferently easy, is a Fool to through Dice, whether he shall be so any longer, or no; 'tis perfect nonsense; I wonder any body can have the face to propose Matrimony to a man, unless 'twere to save him from going to Goal for Debt? Arg. If all men were of your mind how should we have the World continue? Lys. Oh— there are people enough in the World, that are fit for nothing else; Fools that will Marry whither ye will or no; all yourself admirers too, and your whining Adorers, I would have Marry; I would have all Ugly people to Marry, and get out of sight, that the handsome ones may enjoy the World, and one another, my Dear. Arg. Well— but a great deal of Money with a Wife, will prove a Comfort to a Man, let the worst happen that you can imagine. Lys. 'Tis true Money is a sure stake, and I think there's a great deal of reason we should have it, for since the Matrimonial Sea is so Dangerous we ought to insist upon great Insurance, before we Launch into the deep▪ our Ancestors were Fools, and did'nt know their own worth, Women must have Us, and will have Us, and can't live without Us, no more than they can without sleep, and some of 'em lose a good deal every night about it, would I were with 'em, I'd so rock 'em: then forsooth to keep up the show of Modesty, for they must not be seen in it for the World, they get a third Party, a go between, a Matrimonial Bawd, (there's abundance of 'em) and they bring you by chance together; the Innocent Virgin knows nothing of the matter, not she▪ nor isn't Tricked, and dressed out, not she; nor dos'nt Simper, not she; then afterwards you are told a damned company of lies about her Fortune, or her good Qualities, and they believe the thing might be brought about, and a thousand little tricks, you know 'em. Arg. Why dost thou think all this? They must know Chastity and Modesty are the Virtues most admired by us Men. Lys. Ay the scarcest Commodities are ever the most valued: you can't know some things till you use them, we are Devilishly imposed upon sometimes in Merchandizes that are set to Sale; what do you think they Dress themselves out for, with so much Pains and Art? what do you think they take such Care to show themselves afterwards for, if not for Sale? and if we passed by without Cheap'ning 'em, they'd cry out what do ye Lack Sir. Arg. Fie, fie, mere railing. Lys. What do they Plague me with Matrimony then for? when one's weary of every thing else (as one shall be) then 'tis the time to Marry, ay and to make the best Husband too; to be contented with riding out a mile or two, to take the air, to keep a pack of maingey, stinking Beagles; to visit my Neighbours in their turns, and to lie with one and the same Woman every night soberly, and gingerly, there's the Husband for ye. Arg. Ha ha ha thou art a rare Philosopher, but what's the remedy for the Spleen, if this ben't one? Lys. This matrimony has put it out of my head, I was going to tell you my Father will have me marry the rich Widow the Lady Demetria's Daughter, that charming Pearl Miss Mawkine. Arg. Oh— I know 'em, Hercules! what a Creature has he found out for you? Lys. An odious thing indeed. I must go and Visit her. Come you shall go along with me. Arg. I can't now, I have business of consequence, but I'll meet you in the Evening, at Minerva's Temple, and then I may have leisure to laugh with you. Lys. The Old Lady sets out I assure you, for something, or another, look to your self Argilius. Arg. Well, I dare venture her. Minerva's Temple. Lys. I wonot fail to meet you. Exeunt. Pandora's Apartment. Enter Pausanias, Pandora follows and stops him by the Robe. Pan. Leave me not thus— Let me not live to see you run such hazards, By all the tenderness of truest Love, I do conjure you, by all the Virgin joys I gave you, When at Byzantium's famous Siege, your Captive, When midst the sound of War, and heat of Glory Love too displayed his ensigns, with sighs and Vows, And winning looks, you tuned me to your Love, Byzantium and Pandora both were yours, weeps. Happy and pleased, my Chains I bore, thro' all Rough seasons, and more rugged Fortunes (unknown Till then) I followed you; Love and Pausanias, Were all to me, and still are so, but Oh Too much I fear Pausanias his has lost, And poor Pandora's Love, alone remains: weeps. Paus. Why will you add this torment to my Soul? Or why affect me with Presaging Tears? Pandora! 'twill be time enough to weep, When I miscarry.— Pan. Then 'twill be too late. Think what you are, and what you have to Loof, Your well got Fame which sounds thro'out the World, If it must go, let it be like yourself, With vast Designs, and those too well concerted; Then more than giddy chance is on your side; Trust not Pausanias, trust not Feeble aid; The awkward Helots', timorous and Enslaved And all the Party that you can propose, Are but the dross, and refuse of the Land; The best are gone to the Athenian War, Shall great Pausanias thus poorly trust his sat, No, let a Warlike host of Persians Give credit to your arms, and make the Conquest sure: Paus. Credit and Conquest, follow my Command: Brave Leaders make brave Men; those that with such Disdain you treat, would make you gaudy Persians Feel, once again the Force of hardy Greece, Of that no more, Pandora, you're to blame, Press me no farther.— Pan. My Lord, you seem to be displeased, with Me: If I have said what Mis-became me If Passion too much Innocent freedom showed— Believe that Passion only was my fear, My fear for you and that you should forgive. Paus. Stifle that fear, for fear that brings no help, May bring much harm; trust me Pandora, trust My grown experience, I've weighed it well— Money and Men don't grow like Mettles, whether We will or no, if we can save 'em both And gain our Ends Xerxes and all wise Men, Will praise my Conduct, and esteem my Service; Therefore the Persians wait, till farther orders. Pan. And therefore would I'd ne'er been born 'Twere better, better I had never known, ne'er felt the joys of great Pausanias' love, If I should say the Gods themselves, ne'er tasted Diviner bliss: I think I should not boast, A noble Flame you've kindled in my Soul, Fed, with your breath, your looks, your every Grace, Heroic actions, and your feasts of love, Unenvied, and unrelished be the World, While I, Oh happiness! enjoying you, Have more than comes to any mortals share I cannot bear it, cannot see you lost, My artless fondness, and my murdering feats, Are troublesome, I find you think 'em so Yet give me, may be a last leave to beg. Paus. 'Tis sixt, and now once more I take my leave: Business of several kinds must be dispatched [Embraces is going▪] Pan. Stay Sir, yet stay, till I have finished mine, 'Twill not be long a doing, and then I'll never Disturb you more, I see you are resolved, Takes his hand. (With utmost grief, and all the pangs of parting Souls I find it) to seek your Ruin, let me Once more Embrace the greatest Man on Earth— Embrace. What will the World lose? What shall I lose rather? Who live not but in you— Like flowers spreading to the rising Sun. Beauteous, and gay, while they are warmed by him, But when he's gone and the Cold Evening comes, Closed up their withered sweets Decay, and Die— Sinks in his Arms. Paus. Ha! She's gone, what hoa there, the woman has O'ercome her Spirits, what hoa who waits?— Enter Ser. Be sure you take all necessary care— I'm loath to leave her thus, but I'll avoid The second grief of parting, and please her more Returning with Success— Exit. Pan. Away, stand off, he's gone, and all my arts, The Woman, and the Mistress too have failed,— However I have done my part for Xerxes. And Artabazus when he knows it must Approve my management; I love Pausanias, or I loved him once And I would save him, save the lovely Youth Argilius, who I know will fall with him— May be he suspects the Persians, and he Has reason, but this present Enterprise Is Madness, Fury, throwing all away. Rather than have him lost, I will call in The Persians— Pythia, you find out my Lord Ambassador— but stay— you may retire— Exeunt Women. The Persians here, my reign is at an end. Pausanias runs too fast, and hurrys Me And my design upon Argilius I'll seize this Night: once more attempt his Love Before to Morrows bloody Enterprise: For after that I must despair to see him. If I'm unlucky— Let him unpityed fall, and his loathed Life resign, If I succeed— I with delight shall think he once at least was Mine. Exit. The End of the Second Act ACT III. SCENE I. Pandora in her Apartment. SONGS. After which Argilius enters. SWeeter than Roses, or cool Evening's breeze, On a warm Flowery Shore, Was the dear Kiss, first trembling made me freeze, Then shot like Fire all o'er; What Magic has Victorious love! For all I touch, or see, Since that dear kiss, I hourly prove, All, all is Love to me. DIALOGUE. Wom. My Dearest Man. My Fairest Both. I Languish for thee. Wom. Thy Kindness has won me Man. Thy Charms have undone me Both. I ne'er shall be Free. Man. I faint with the Pleasure I fain would repeat, Wom. Ah why are Love's Raptures so short and so sweet? Both. Thus pressing and kissing, fresh joys we'll pursue, And ever be happy, and ever be true. Wom. But alas! should you Change Man. Ah tell me not so, Wom. No never my Dearest Man. No never my Fairest Both. No never no no. Arg. BEhold me Madam, waiting your Commands. Pan. Must I Command you then to have you here? Must I still send for you, Argilius? Where is that welcome Warmth, fruitful of Love, To bless my barren, wintered, dying hopes? Why am I slighted thus I should complain, But would not willingly complain of You. Would I had been more Fair, You less reserved: What can I do to gain, and keep your Heart? Tell me, Argilius, and it shall be done. Tell me my faults, for I can hear even them From those dear Lips, they shall be mended all: My Love can Conquer every thing but You: Cruel Argilius! yet I wonot think, You will be Cruel, for my being kind. Arg. Your dazzling Beauty, and your wondrous Charms Are fit for jove, no Goddess half so Fair. No need of Arguments where proofs are plain: Witness, the many many Slaves you've made, Witness, the greatest Man Pausanias; A Conqueror still you Triumph o'er his heart, You he Adores, and with the strictest Love, You mix your happy Souls— As you deserve so you enjoy the best Of Men; how Madam, can you think of me? My faithfulness to him has born the trial, And thank the Gods, he ever found me true; Ah Madam! why then all these pains, to make A Villain of a Friend?— Pan. No I would make you mine Argilius, Arg. In me 'twere Sacrilegious rage Indeed, To violate the Temple of his Love. Pan. The Temple's meanly served, that has but one Poor votary; when a full Chorus shakes the roof Then then's the best Devotion. Arg. The Priest alone, has right to Sacrifice, I with the distant crowd shall humbly Bow. Pan. Give me no Ceremony, but the Heart. Oh cruel Youth! averse to Love, and Me: Too fond of what was never meant for thee: For thou, wert surely made for Gentler Wars Change thy fierce mind, and think on softer Love, Arms are to rugged for thy Pliant Limbs, For close embraces, let 'em be Exchanged; Instead of Noise, and the shrill Trumpets sound, Let tender Murmuring sighs, divert thy ear; No fear of Death, but smiles and dying Eyes, No smarting Wounds but those of bleeding, Love. Which with delight are cured.— Arg. Ah Madam hold, you know not what you do. Pan. I'd have thee hasten to be Happy now. Neglect no longer the advice of Love, But scape the pain, which I have born so long, For love of thee, what Torments have I felt? What torments do I feel? loaden with cares, Torn with my Hopes, and Fears, sleep from my Eyes Is fled, while I restless▪ despairing pine My life away; give me one tender look, One moment's love, and I'll forgive you all. Arg. O! Help me all ye Powers or I am gone,— A strange forgetfulness comes o'er my Soul, aside. And I can think of nothing else but her. I know not how, I'm hurried on so fast, Deaf to my reason, Duty pleads in vain. Pan. Why muses, thus my Life, so thoughtful, why? You sha'not think, 'tis Love, Argilius, Love, With all the charms of a fair eager Lover, Invites you to be kind, my panting Breasts Blown up by Love, like Neptune's waves foretell. A storm of swelling Joy, plunge boldly in, Within these Arms you can no danger fear, No Rock, but Scorn, no Shipwreck but Despair. Arg. Friendship and Love, distract my tortured mind, Such kindling Charms, such Tenderness, such Love, With thousand Graces, Favours undeserved, Set me on fire, and captivate my Soul. But then methinks I hear Pausanias, betrayed by me, Cry out, there there he goes, Th'ungrateful Villian, whom I thought my Friend, Argilius, only he could so have done. Shall I consent to wrong this Godlike Man? Pan. Is't come to this, this hateful Parley then? I know your thoughts, hence from my sight be gone; Thou honest Fool, unfit for me; thou hadst But few hours happiness to taste, and those Thou hast lost, to morrow thou'rt no more, then perish With the Helots' and Pausanias';— No, I'll be revenged on him, the cause of this, And thee; so honourably you shall not fall; I'll to the Ephori, discover all, And leave you to the Executioner: upgoing. Arg. Hold Madam hold,— a woman's hate is fatal, aside. I find he is engaged in new designs; On me alone let your— to her. Resentment fall, O! let me expiate Great Pausanias' Crimes: Here Madam at your Feet kneels. Behold your slave let the dire sentence Death, Nay worse than death, your, your displeasure, light On me alone, tell me but how I may His pardon win, his safety but procure, I'll merit it, with all that I can think, Or do, for you. Pan. I take you at your word, You've saved his Life: And that's an action worthy of a Friend. Arg. Then I am blessed, and now am wholly yours Embraces her. My Life, my Soul, which way will you dispose— Enter Servant. Seru. Madam the Persian Ambassador. Pan. Conduct him up— would he were in Persia: Exit Seru. This comes of losing time. Arg. He must not see me here, I'll soon return And then— Exit Arg. Pan. And then deceive me if thou canst. Enter Ambassador. My Lord you're come very opportunely, I longed To see you, tho' I wish, I could Tell better news, I followed your Commands, Tried all you're Arts, and some too of my own, To change Pausanias' mind, but all in vain. There's a Fatality that urges him, To ruin, and stops all our good designs. Amb. It must be so: just now I left him where He told me all; and is in care to know, How Fair Pandora does; as soon as e'er He told me you were ill, struck with the news, I hither flew, to satisfy my fears, And thank the Gods, gaurdians of our Persia, I find you, Madam, well; you are the light That guides us in our travels, withdraw yourself. And helpless we are lost.— Pan. I feigned to swoon, at last and so he left me: I heard him say, he quickly would return With Victory, but 'tis impossible, he's lost, And with him all the hopes of Persia— Amb. When so much Beauty fails, we must expect The worst; I found him angry, much disturbed, I doubt our common enemy his Mother the Princess Anchilthea, undermines us. Pan. The Spartan Ladies, are all Politicians, All Patronesses of the public weal, Story is full of 'em, and there she hopes a name; There let her live, so we were rid of her. Amb. We both with equal Zeal our Country serve; Tho' I with half the pains, attain my ends, While bright Pandora, her assistance lends. Pan. My Lord, my Lord, I have no such Vanity, I shall be happy if by my poor means, I answer your designs, and serve the mighty King. Amb. Xerxes' the great, receives your kindness right, Resolves to honour you, above all Women, Informed by me, of all your beauteons Charms, Loves you unseen, desires your Character, And when Triumphant he arrives in Greece, Pleased with the Charge, and Proud of such a Mistress, I'll soon conduct you to his kind Embrace. Pan. Dissembling Knave— aside. My Lord I hear the Regent Is to have Xerxes' Daughter, I shall be pleased To see him grow so great, and soon retire Contented from the World, praying for Xerxes, And his great Sons good Fortune— Amb. I may impart with safety what I know; These are pretended Nuptials Madam; these Are ways of State to gain a present point, You can't believe 'em real— Pan. No more than the other— aside. My Lord I dive not into turns of State, I'm only happy to be useful here. What shall we do, to get the Persians in? This rising will be vainly desperate. It will awake the sleeping Ephori, Put 'em upon their Guard, and so prevent Our hopes; besides Pausanias meets his Death. And dear Argilius will be lost with him, aside. I have no Patience, oh find out some remedy. Use all your cunning, stop this mad design, I have done all I can.— Amb. To change Pausanias is impossible, And I have tried a second time in vain— — You have inspired me Madam, And to your influence I owe the thought, By the bright Sun I have it— I'll send a Letter to the Ephori, unsigned, Therein at large I will inform of all, And that to morrow is the day set down.— Pan. You won't discover Pausanias?— Amb. No, Madam, no, not the least glance at him. No naming Names. I'll word it cunningly. Pau. Well, it must do. Amb. It will have this effect: 'Twill make 'em all intent upon this Plot. So while they're busy, bustling here at home, Our Men may land securely. Pan. Excellent! our time's but short. Amb. I'll instantly about it. Exeunt. SCENE II. A Public Place. Enter Anchilthea. Anc. Sparta! thou noblest seat of Liberty! Still may'st thou be preserved and greater still, Freed from self Interest, and base corruption, From traitorous designs of trusted Friends, And slavish Principles, yet more dangerous. Ba thou the Ballence still of Greece and spread Thy easy Conquests through the Persian sway: Thus it was once, thus, thus it used to be, When with united Hearts, and hands we fought, And smiling Fortune purpled the Victor's way: But now, alas! distracted heats, and jarring, Factions, strive hard for thy undoing: Now who bids most for Liberty, or Country, Takes the unhappy Purchase. See he comes— Argilius has raised my Jealousy— Enter Pausanias Attended by his Party. I'll try Pausanias, if I find him bent On ill Designs, myself would see him Perish. Pau. The best deserver will be sure of that. Now separate, and so my Friends farewell. They bow, and go out. Anchilthea comes forward. Anc. Well met my Son; when saw you the Young King▪ My Nephew, good Plistarchus? he is well? Pau. Very well in health Madam, And still much like his Father. Anc. I hope he'll prove much like him in his Virtues, You are his Guardian, Son, and should inform him Of his Father's Actions, worthy his Imitation, Tell him the Great Leonidas with Heroic Fortitude, redeemed poor Greece from Persian Slavery, When with but only three, three Hundred men,— He stopped their torrent at Thermopylae, Which threatened utter Desolation; tell him His Father then lost his life, but mounted To the Gods, a glorious Victim for his Country, Tell him he refused the Sovereignty of Greece, Offered by Xerxes, and chose a Noble Death, rather than an ignominious Rule, Tell him what all good Kings should know. Paus. There want not these to make a Spartan King, His Lesson's written in the Laws, he need But learn to Read, and then he's taught to Govern.. Anc. Methinks there's more required Pausanias, The Virtues of the Ancients should be shown, The liberality of Agamemnon, Old Nestor's Eloquence, Vlissess Arts, and the brave Daring of Achilless too. A King should learn to fill his People's hands, Study to rob 'em only of their hearts, That would become a King: and then so wise, That he should be a Council to himself. So Bold and Daring, that while others pause Upon the Danger he should break through it, And leave them to finish the easy part; On Justice and Clemency I could much more enlarge, But this methinks is somewhat more than Spelling. Paus. The Kings of Sparta have all this inspired, The race of Hercules are Born with these Endowments, tho' there are some who are not Kings, Whom Chance thought fit to send into the World Out of the reigning Constellation— Yet have more shining qualities— Anc. That there are Souls worthy of Sceptered sway, I doubt not, I wish all Kings were such, if not, They are to be the more despised, you once My Son, were one of those great Souls, Oh pleasure To my thoughts! With joy unspeakable I heard the News, And blessed the Gods Sparta and Greece were saved, Saved by Pausanias my beloved Son, Then, with what thirst of Glory and revenge You drove the Invaders hence,— then was a time! Now Persian habits, and Rich Persian Wines Mistresses Persian, nay and Persian Gold Would bring 'em in again. My Son, my Son, Your dress, your Manners, Customs, and what most I fear, your Inclinations to are theirs, A Persian Strumpet, and a Persian Spy, Are dearer to you than the Love of Sparta; Take heed Pausanias, keep yourself from Plots, lose not the Fame you've Got, by base designs, You know you are suspected to the State, But former merits Spoke in your behalf, Throw off these Persian Novelties, and rise again A bright Conductor of the Commonwealth, For know, that were they more, your Plots are vain, For Sparta like the Rainbow, will shine most, When girt with thickest Clouds.— Pau. Madam the Charge is weighty, that you lay, And I must try to bear it.— Anc. Very brave! how it becomes Your Pride! Ay, ay, go on, Thou silly Tool for others Interests, Go on Ambitious, Insolent, and Proud, Disgrace to Sparta, and thy Royal Stem, If 'gainst my hopes and cares, thou provest a Villain, I with these Arms which nursed thee up for good, Draws a Dagger. Will be the first, shall die 'em with thy Blood. Pau. Please to retire Madam I doubt you are not well. Is going. Anc. You sha'not scape me so, for I will do My part, O! Witness all ye Gods, and the great Manes Of our Ancestors, if I would aught, but what Is great and Glorious,— Think on the Torments of a Mother's Soul, Who strives to save her only darling Child, Often forewarned to keep within his bounds, The Giddy headed minds it not, Enticed By other, and his own desire to range, Ventures to far, till mist, his Mother calls, And runs and cries in vain, Helpless and Breathless. Now she see's, the hopeful boy is by a Tiger slain, this, this, is my case now. I know Thy wild designs, and would prevent thy fall. Pau. Madam I must admire you for your Virtue Tho' you▪ Condemn me, on your bare Suspicion, Have I not given proof of my Love to Sparta? Witness what you have said.— Why then am I accused, by restless humours, And causeless Jealousies? if I design It shall be how to make myself and her— Much greater than we are.— Anc. Son, I have more than fancy for my fears, I know your meaning, you aim full at Power, At Power despotic, you would be a Tyrant, And like a Monster waste this Fruitful Land, Then Starve yourself, forsaken and abhorred. As in a Moment after the Last sigh, The Body motionless, colour the Face, Heat flies the stiffining Veins, The glorious tissue soon unweaves itself, And all the Elements which were before Subjected to the Offices of Life Now snatch their several parts, fighting on ruins, Till there's nothing left; so Tyranny The sure disease of States, when e'er it seizes 'em proves mortal, The People languish, and their freedom dies. Pau. Sentence is past, and Pleading is in vain, And now no matter Innocent or not. Yet e'er to morrows Sun reddens the Western Sky You'll find me clear myself— Anc. — Else may the Traitor Die. Exeunt. The End of the Third Act. ACT IU. SCENE I. A Garden. Enter Argilius, Lysander with Demetria, and Mawkines with a Baby. Arg. YOU have a very fine Garden here Madam, and very well understood, as every thing else is about you. Dem. Oh good Sir I have no fancy at all indeed, if we are but clean, 'tis the most we can pretend to; however this little outlet is a convenience in the City, I walk here every morning before dinner, for a little fresh air. Arg. 'Tis very agreeable Madam and it gives Health and Appetite. Dem. Oh dear Sir I never want Appetite, I wish Maukine had as much poor Child, she is so overrun with the green-sickness, I don't know what to do with her, I make her get up every morning early, when I do, and stir about, we were up this morning by nine a clock I protest, and were dressed in two hours' time, as you may guests by the hanging of our clothes. Lys. Nothing can be more exact Madam, I'm in amaze it could be done in so short a time, pray Madam don't hurry yourself so, let me alone to cure my pretty Jewel here. Dem. Truly Lysander I am a little out of order with it that's the truth on't, but I don't care how I look so I do my poor Girl good; but could you cure her think you, umph— I don't know but you might, if you made her stir Soundly, a warming Exercise is the only way— but she's fit indeed for a Husband, that plays with Babies, have you brought that along with you too? I have told you a hundred times I'd burn it— give me't I say. Maw. O Save me, Save me, I will play with't that I will so. Runs to Lysander. Dem. How dare you say such words, Baggage, ha? Maw. I won't then, I won't Oh Dear Mother— I will play with it then. Dem. Indeed Gentlewoman I shall order you I shall. Shakes her by the Arm. Maw. O Mother— you've hurt my Issue, oh Gods! oh Gods! oh Gods! Dem. Hold your Tongue you nasty Slut, but I'll throw this away for you. Throws out the baby. Lys. O dear Madam don't be angry with pretty Miss, poor creature how she Sobs! Arg. Pray Madam, she'll do so no more, I dare promise for her, she was only practising how to dandle a living Baby of her own. They laugh. Dem. Oh Sir I'm so troubled with her sometimes, I dont know what in the world to do; yet the Girl has a great deal of good nature in her, and I hope will come off from these Childish things. Arg. Ay Madam a good Husband will make her a Woman. Dem. Some Husbands will go a great way that's the truth on't, I had a good one once, that would have made a Woman of any thing, I am sure I was very Young and Foolish then, but he made a Women of me presently, while you could say what's this; but I grow old now and must leave that to my Daughter. Arg. No body would take her for your Daughter Madam, you must call her Sister indeed, so youthful and blooming as you are. Dem. Oh dear Sir it can't be indeed, O good, I dont know truly— I vow I can't be so vain to think it.— but do you speak seriously now? Arg. Madam I'll leave the World to Judge; Dem. No no, I can't believe it, tho' I was young and beautiful once, your Uncle (Lysander) and I were very well together, he was a fine man as I may say, for he always kept great Equipage about him, how I loved play in those days, there would be such Squabbling, such a pother sometimes, and tho' we were out for a little time, yet we were quickly in again, I was never weary of playing— it makes me laugh ha ha ha, and now to have such a fine young Spark as this say such things to me— does really as it were— I don't know how methinks— but it obliges me to you strangely— I'll Swear I'm out of Countenance. O juno! what has she put in her Mouth Squeezes her mouth out drops an apple. there? Huzzy let it out— by Venus a green Apple— Oh this intolerable girl, this 'tis is her Bane, I am quite weary of my Life with her— 'tis to no purpose, all this Charge and Care I have been at to give her Physic and Openings, the Mischievous Creature gets herself Stopped again, do what I can. Maw. Why Mother 'twas only a little Apple my x Memnon gave me, when we were at play together on the Bed in the Damsen Coloured Chamber. Dem. Ay thou art a Tom-rigs, fie at this Age? it makes me quit wild, Huzzy have you got nothing else in your Pockets? Maw. No Mother indeed, and indeed now. Mawkine Riggling about. Dem. I won't believe you, I will see, therefore stand still— look here a great piece of Chalk— a Scrap of Parchmin— a great piece of Alum,— an Apple Scoop, and a raw Turnip— are not you a lying Girl? speak— a piece of Plaister-lime and hair, mere Poison— are not you a Vexatious Child? speak — why do you Plague me thus? speak I say. Maw. I won't. Dem. Come let see what's in t'other Pocket— full of Oatmeal— why wou'd'nt this make any Flesh Mad? but I'll— Runs after her Arg. Stops her. Arg. Hold Madam hold, let me entreat you. Dem. Oh Sir I am the unfortunat'st Woman in Greece, she breaks her poor Mother's heart that she does, for me this is the daily Life I have with her or worse, I have tried all the fair means in the World, but it signifies nothing, a great Hoiden as she is, you shall have a Husband indeed, you shall, Ah if Lysander were not your true Lover, and blind to all your faults you might stay long enough, ere any other would be troubled with you, Oh I'm past Patience. Maw. Maw, waw here's a rout indeed— but I'll be revenged on you for this and that soon too. Lys. 'Tis all nothing Madam, these little things are incident to Youth, she'll make never the worse Wife, this is all Innocent, you may thank the Gods she's Virtuous Madam, and that's the Charm that wins my Heart. Dem. Oh Sir you are a good discreet Young man, as you say, 'tis a great Comfort to me to think she's Virtuous, all the Mischief she does is to herself poor Child, but when you have her, she'll be Weaned from every thing of this kind, and I hope I shall have Comfort in her and hers. Arg. No doubt on't Madam, she must be good that comes from you, she must have Beauty, Sense and Virtue if she's your Ladyship's Daughter. Dem. Oh sweet Sir you oblige me Eternally to you, and when you and I are better Acquainted, I hope you will speak your Mind freely to me, I love Flat and Plain doings Sir, I am for downright dealing. Lys. Your Ladyship says very true, and I'll promise you, you could not meet with a more upright Man than my Friend here, I'll Answer for him. Arg. Lysander has done me great honour Madam in making me known to your Ladyship, and I shall use all the means Possible to requited him so great a Kindness, and endeavour always to show myself deserving of the favours I receive. Dem. Well I vow I can't choose but look upon you— I Dreamt last Night of just such a Face and Person,— well really ones Fancy works very oddly when ones a sleep sometimes— Oh juno! Oh the Gods! she has run a Pin into me jove knows how far— where is she— [Lysan. steps between 'em] Nay I will come at her— I'll never forgive it Huzzy— I shall meet with you,— Lys. for Heaven's sake Madam be pacified. Dem. Pray Sir meddle with that which belongs to you, you are no Master here. Gods! how it Smarts? Lys. Why so outrageous Madam? Dem. You're a Saucy Coxcomb Sir, what do you mean? do you know who I am? Lis. Yes Madam you han't concealed yourself at all, I hope you don't think I or my Friend here, have any design upon you. Dem. Why this is intolerable, to be Affronted thus at my own house, my Daughter! my Scullion's too good for you. Lys. She may be the better Choice for aught I know. Dem. Had your Father the wealth of Persia, he nor you should ever come within my doors, you have your answer Sir. Lis. I am Proud you employ me Madam, my Father shall have your Message. Dem. The sooner the better Sir, there's your way. I shall have a reckoning with you Mistress. [to Mawkine who runs off] Exit. Arg. O the sweet Conversation we have had Poor Miss has brought us both off, but She'll pay for't, come let's be gone. Lys. Nothing ever happened better, you have had the diversion I promised you, and I have my Liberty secured, much sooner, than I expected. I'll tell my Father how she despised him, I know his temper, 'twill put a certain end to this business, and then the world's my own again. Thanks to the Gods our Matrimonies done, Which ne'er begins too late, nor ends too soon. Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter Pausanias, and Ambassador. Paus. Hear you the news my Lord Ambassador? Amb. What news? Paus. Honest Argilius brings me word, The Business of the Helots' is discovered! Amb. O the good Gods discovered! Paus. Eternal Death pursue the Villains fears, Rot, rot the hand, that writ the coward Scroll; Would I could know the Secretary— but I have the means to spoil their blabbing still. It shall be told, but not so soon as done. And when the first Discoverer brings the news, It shall be Conquest and Proud Sparta's Fall. Thus to be Baffled by dull blockheads, thus! Puzzling about, at last they've hit it off, And follow with full cry: I'll lay a trail Of Persian Game, shall draw 'em to the Toils. Amb. Come my good Lord be pacified: it is But shifting Sail, and still the wind sits fair: We are not destitute, remember Rhodes. Paus. Rage, and Revenge, like fierce imprisoned Winds, Hurry my Sense, and shake me, like an Earthquake: But there will come a time to give 'em vent. Amb. My Lord, I do beseech you Calm your mind, And on fresh Methods let it be employed. So Great your Power, so many are Your Friends, The Ephori dare not say that you are guilty. Paus. He says I was not mentioned in the Paper. Let 'em suspect me, while they have no proof. I trust my Treasons only with a few. Let hot Brained Fools set up their noisy Clubs, cabal with Malcontents, and whisper Secrets, The very Forum will be sure to know: Nothing so vain, so Buoyed with hopes as they, Dirty and weary Hobbling up and down, To Spread reports which no Body believes; Mighty designs they Hatch in Speculation, Not Possible in practice, they wish well To Treason, and will dip themselves as far, As any One will trust 'em, but all the Credit they can do their Cause, Is when the silly Blockheads Suffer for't. Amb, Your very right my Lord, They're only Engines, the Spring is hid Which gives the Motion, and when They're once worn out, are thrown aside My Lord our building needs no Scaffolds now, One word from you will Raise and Finish it; Think of your Friends, at Rhodes, The eager Troops lie Languishing For Summons, when will Pausanias, when the Regent send? why so much time before we Call him General? why dos'nt Xerxes send us Into India; to push our Conquests there, why keep Us here in Tedious Expectation? himself Is with 'em raising still their Hopes, His Confines open to Incursions lie, Yet he Expects, and Venturs all for you. Paus, No farther need of Rhetoric Artabazus, Now they shall come, my Friend, my last advice I will dispatch to Xerxes Instantly. Amb. But I am Cautious in the Messenger In these suspected times we ought to choose Most warily, it will be difficult— Besides our all depends upon these Letters— Since we must trust the Secret to one more, He must be one of tried Fidelity— Pau. Such Men we find are scarce— Amb. Yet there is One, Faithful Argilius. Paus. Argilius. You know he is a Spartan in his Heart. Amb. That is one Reason why I wish him there. A Spartan! that's an Enemy to you. Paus. O! he's my Friend. Amb. Why let him show it then: This way he carries on your Interest; And that I'm sure's the business of a Friend. He must know nothing of the deep contents, Only convey the Letters to my master. Pau. You know the Messengers have ne'er returned, By our Agreement suffering present Death. Amb. Then he will fall with Honour serving you. Pau. He saved my Life at famed Bizantium's Siege— Amb. And you would there have done as much for him. Pau. Since that you know how great has been his Love: And many are the Proofs, this very Hour, Is Witness of his Faith— What such a Friend! Amb. There is no Friendship, in Affairs of State. Pau. I grant it— but we'll think upon another. Amb. There's not another: You are sure of him. Pau. Then I'll Subscribe his life shall be untouched. Amb. You may and give him time to ruin Us. Consider Sir when he shall come to Rhodes And see the Mighty preparations there His zeal for Sparta, then preferred to You, (Before the numerous Fleet can yet arrive) May make him send advice, discover all. Pau. Advice! Discovery! let the Names be lost: They signify a Villain every way. Emb. Then you will thank his Friendship. Pau. He shall Die. Friendship implys an Equal in the Throne; A Subject-Passion: But Ambition Fills all the Soul, and Godlike reigns alone Exeunt. Pandora's Apartment. Enter Argilius. Arg. Now I shall prove the Ambassador a Villain, I saw the letter which disclosed the Plot Oth' Helots' to the Ephori, and know the hand To be one of his Secretaries; I'm glad The Design's prevented, but I fear 'twill Bring on a worse; if Pausanias will hear me He must resent the Fact.— Then for Pandora here, I'll Feign to love her still Appoint my Lodgings as the meeting place Then bring Pausanias to find her Falsehood; Help me ye Powers, who Watch for Sparta's good, That I may save him from their Cursed wiles Restore him to his Country's Interest. With all the Eagerness of panting Hearts, Enter Pan- I come, to bless my Eyes, my every sense. Ages methinks are past, and Wracks I've felt, Since the Ambassador did send me hence Pan. Love has a Thousand Thousand joys in store And Coveting is still possessing more, A Thousand Raptures he is pleased to give, And show by Dying what it is to Live. Arg. Pardon me Madam pardon what is past, Pardon an unexperienced Youth, and Love, I'll soon recover what I dully Lost, Thus Pleased, thus Charmed, the Rival of the Gods I'm more than Mortal something more than Man While thus I hold my Goddess in my Arms. Embraces her Pan. She's yours Argilius, all, she all is yours, Preserve your Conquest still with kindness thus With Freedom I have often owned my Love, Too Powerful to strive against, or Hide, And 'tis my greatest Pleasure that you know What to the World were shame. Arg. This, this I know, the Hours Shall wait to see our Joys, the Nights Shall linger with delight, as loath to rob us Of even a Minute's Pleasure; a week with us Shall be a Year, an Age, to other Lovers. Pan. Let us retire, lest we be over heard. Arg. When shall I then be Happy? Let but that be fixed Before I go. Pan. Must you then go First? Arg. The Regent has Commanded my Attendance, This Minute he expects me, tell me where, and when. Pan. You must not fail with him, my Lodgings Are not safe, I'll come to yours. Arg. At Eight my Life I will not fail to meet you, The doors shall be unlocked. Pan. Agreed, than we will talk again, of Love. Arg. We'll do, as Love and you inspire, I know Not how to leave you, what a tedious hour 'twill be, Would it were come. Pan. Time now appears our greatest Enemy, We wish him gone; anon he'll be our Friend, And we shall wish his stay, 'tis but an hour, Yet we may take a pledge for meeting. Arg. This, and this, and this— Salute. Pan. Nay now you're lavish— Arg. The store can never never waste, while you Still feed desire. Now we will know no bounds, No regulation in our Pleasures now. Pan. Curse on the cause that calls you thus away, Methinks the Regent might not want you, stay: Prudence is a Fool, in Love; yet Jealousies a Foe That may pursue us, therefore quickly go, Absence like sullen night, darkens the joyful day, Arg. Return, like rising beams, will chase those fogs away. Exeunt severally- The End of the Fourth Act. ACT V. SCENE I. Enter Argilius with Letters. HEre's the reward of all my Faithful Service, Cruel Pausanias, how shall I forbear, To load thee with Deserved reproaches? Yet still I love thee, and will show it too, A hard necessity promotes my Death, Were I a Villain, this way I should not die. Ambition causing Us t'expose our Friends, Makes me a Victim to unlawful Ends. Enter Anchilthea. Anc. Why should he shun me? why withdraw alone? I will observe him farther— aside. Arg. These Letters full of Impious guilt, I am to bear to Xerxes, th'imployment has Ever been fatal to the Messengers, And must be so to me. Sure I might hope, In things of small import, to have been spared; Then these contain great, universal Ill, Where the best Friend, must give the first Example. Anc. Letters! and Xerxes! aside. Arg. O Sparta! I with Joy could lose my Life To save thee; but horrid destiny, brings with my death Thy fall; yet I could save 'em both, and with A just Revenge, defeat the black design,— These, these would do't, thy Life Pausanias Is Safe no longer, than I keep these Concealed, Pausanias' Life! no, that is still so dear I could even wish his Villainies success. What is the World to me when I am gone? I Live for him: The Gods must look to Sparta, Then vanish all ye anxious cares, I'll go, My part I justly in obeying show. What makes me thus! unusual tremblings seize me! Stops. And now methinks my Mother's bleeding Ghost Stands in the passage, and forbids my way, Calling me Traitor— so, she's, gone again— How can this be? am I a Traitor then? All, all are so, Villains, and Traitors all, Who wound their Country's Peace, and drink her Blood, Who is the common Mother of us all! Villains, and Traitors all, who see the Sword At their dear Country's throat, and not disarm, And Stab its Rage through the Oppressor's Heart. Anc. Now is my time— aside. Arg. What Torments must, they feel in the next World Who help the Cursed deed? Must I be One? Cursed here through a Posterity Enslaved, By my means? And doubly damned in Hell? Oh ye Just Gods assist!— Anc. The Gods by me are ready— Snatches the letters. Arg. Oh Heavens! Madam let me entreat, give back What you have taken, they're Letters to the Mistress Of my Heart, derected in unusual Names, Indicted with unusual Terms, Which were Concerted, to deceive the Jealous. Anc. No good Argilius no, I've heard your Plaint, And know what I have got, ungrateful Son, Traitor to every thing, now he is so to you, Could not such Virtue breed remorse in him? Unhappy Youth, thy Fortune I deplore, I know so great's thy Love, thy Care is more, Yet be advised, you my protection have, I'll keep you safe, while base Pausanias, Finds his deserved Fate. Arg. O! rather let the Sentence fall on Me. I own the Letters, all the Practices Of their Contents: You found 'em in my hands, I own 'em all. Pausanias is abused, And I the guilty Villain fit to Fall. Anc. Charge not yourself unjustly. Arg. What shall I do? what will he think of Me! I'll go to him, tell him I have Betrayed him, Urge him with all my Power to take my Life! But I'm Unworthy of a Death from Him. O! spare Pausanias: spare my Honoured Lord: Kneels. The Seat of Mercy is a Mother's Breast. You cannot, Oh, you must not see him fall, Your only Son, the Glory of your Blood, Think on his Actions past: He's still the same. The Ambassador alone is here concerned Rises. And I will prove it, give me but the time. Anc. Miraculous Friendship! I would calm his mind And manage these with the best Arts I can: aside. I'll send him to Neptune's Temple, There he is safe, Pausanias there will meet him, The Ephori shall overhear 'em then: That will be proof, I hope if these are not. You charge the Ambassador, I shall be glad if You can make it good. to him. In the mean time, that He may think you gone, Retire to Neptune's Temple, there take Sanctuary, To save you from his malice when he hears Himself accused, for he is Treacherous, And by your Death, may smother Evidence, And then he leaves my Son to Answer All. Arg. Madam I go, and If I do not prove What I have said; Expose me to his Rage. Yet I may save my Friend. Exit. Anc. Blessed be th' immortal Powers that sent me hither, Now I have proof which I so long have feared. Let me see, both to Xerxes— This is my Son's, This hand unknown— My curiosity Shall be th' excuse, I'll open this— Oh 'tis Signed Artabazus. Reads. Most mighty most Illustrious, and above all Princes Great and happy Xerxes, your Slave has with unwearied pains and diligence, pursued the matters given him in trust, and has at last prevailed upon Pausanias to send for thy invincible Army, as soon as he shall have done what is expected from him, he shall suffer the same fate this Messenger must, that Xerxes may rise the sole Sovereign of Greece, to whom all Nations be Subjected; Artabazus. Brave Villain! And thou Fool Pausanias, Alas! why have I lived to see thy ruin? My peaceful Ashes undisturbed had lain, And in the Grave I had not cursed thy Birth; Some other than might have performed this task, Which tears a Mothers Soul. Now I find out why this Solemnity, Neptune must be implored with Sacrifice To bring the Persian Fleet, and Army safe; Can then Religion serve such Impious ends! Nature be gone, here I disclaim my Blood, Incorrigible to a Mother's council, Often forgiven, still Engaged in Ill, A spreading Gangreen to his Royal Stem, And must be fevered to redeem the whole; I will assert the Glory of his Ancestors, Which he thus seeks to tarnish. Alas, in vain such black Designs are laid, Thousands of Noble Souls defend our Sparta, Unconquered Hearts, disdaining Slavish Rule, And the attempt is ever fatal: O ye Immortal Gods! Laugh not at humane Misery, but renew our Hopes, Let us convince the World you made us free, And yet uncanceled stands that first Decree. Exit. SCENE II. Neptune's Temple. Enter Highpriest, a Choir of Priests followed by Pausanias. Solemn MUSIC. H. Pr. PRepare, prepare, a Solemn Sacrifice prepare, Prepare we to appease, The powerful God o'th' Seas. Cho. Hear, Mighty Neptune hear. H. Pr. Let the Billows cease to roar, Smooth and silent be the shore, Save, and conduct our hopes, while we adore. Cho. Hear, mighty Neptune hear. From Crystal Throne adorned with Pearl, receive Our humble Vows, and thy Protection give. H. Pr. While blustering Winds do thee obey, No Storms can e'er enrage the Sea, For gentle lucky gales we Pray. Cho. Hear, mighty Neptune hear, From Crystal Throne adorned with Pearl, receive Our humble Vows and thy Protection give. H. Pr. & 2 Pr. Glory attend each filling Sail, May Sailors Courage never fail, Let the merry Victors go▪ Destroy the treacherous Foe. Increase our Traffic, and our gain, On equal Terms, we never fear, We will be Masters every where, And Triumph o'er the Main. Cho. Increase our Traffic, etc. Enter Argilius. Pau. Ha— withdraw a while. Exeunt Priests. Arg. You must not wonder Sir to see me here, Believe me true, I never will betray you, I hope this Accident will give me opportunity, To serve you more than ever— Pau. I doubt you are too busy grown Argilius, I thought you would have been by me Directed, But you turn Politician. Arg. May the Great Deity within these Walls adored. Pursue me with his utmost Wrath, if I Have failed, or did Design to fail your Orders, Unlucky Chance brought Anchilthea to me. Pau. What? then my Mother has prevailed with you, Take heed Argilius. Arg. Going from you with full Intent to haste On Shipboard, she came into your Antichamber Unseen, and snatched the Letters from my Hands. Pau. 'Tis Mighty well, go on; Arg. I Feigned, beseeched her to restore 'em, But in Vain, she Threatened all that's Dear to me, Your Life, I proffered mine▪ Happy if she Had ta'en my Life then I conjured her, by A Mother's name by Pity, still unmoved: Till at the last I said the Ambassador Was guilty, and that I'd prove he only was Concerned; let me, my Lord, charge him alone, And then you will be free, he and Pandora, Design your ruin, that too I can make clear, Let me my Lord, O let me prove 'em false; By the advice of Anchilthea, I here Took Sanctuary, that I might clear my points With safety. She consented to this manner. Pau. This Indefatigable Mother is Enter Ephori come forward to harken. In every Place— I shall outwit her yet— Without more proof, than this, I cannot fall Some of the Ephori I know my Friends— If they were all my Enemies Declared, I fear 'em not; proceeding, as they must, In Lazy methods, and unactive Forms— One of my Rank, and Interest cannot Want The means to baffle Justice, and delay— At last I have recourse to Bribery: And I have passed a Senseless Life at Court, If I should ask whose hands are to be filled: I know my Men, they won not fail their Fee: This way I would not have thee Take, Thou ever kind and ever Dear Argilius. I have no time to Write, I can trust Thee, Proceed with haste to Rhodes, there you'll find Xerxes, Greet him from Me, and tell him all is Ready: I with impatience shall attend his Forces Be speedy, and be all my Fortune thine. Arg. I never yet desputed your Commands, I go, tho' I could wish you had not sent me. Yet give me leave once to embrace your Knees, I know my Fate, and from your mouth 'tis easy, Farewell farewell may you be happy long: And all your Friends be Faithful found, like Me. Eph. Where are our Guards? As he is going the Ephori with Guards advance, Pausanias draws his Sword. Paus. Ha! This from thee dissembling Traitor— go, Take thy Reward then. Kills Argilius then Scapes through the Guards. Eph. O horrid Fact! Enter Lysander. Lys. I come to Acquaint your Lordships the Princess Anchilthea has been Saved by Miracle. Coming to the Temple through the Crowded streets, The Persian Woman, Pandora she is called, Did like a Fury rush upon her? And she as Bravely did Defend herself, Wresting the Dagger from the Traitress hands, And plunged it in the Conquered Strumpet's Heart. 1. Eph. She has met a nobler Fate than she deserved. She should have died with Puplick infamy. 2. Eph. Now hope we better days, and for the Persian, We will employ our utmost force against him. The Ambassador shall bear the News, He must depart to Night. 3. Eph. We Spartans will preserve Our Freedom still, And drive their big swollen Navy from our Coasts, They shall once more find Us their Conquerors. 1. Eph. Pausanias cannot far escape Already by our order the Guards are doubled At the City Gates. Enter Anchilthea to 'em. Anc. What! is the Traitor gone! And you my Lords, Are Satisfied? Have you not Proof enough? For shame Rouse up your Souls: Or are you Bribed With Persian Gold? The Persians will be kind, Kind Masters when they come: you will deserve their thanks. 1. Eph. Madam you Charge us too Severely here. Enter Messenger. M. My Lords the Regent's fled to the Temple of Minerva. Anc. Dam up the Temple Gates, there he shall starve: We must not violate the Holy Altar, To drag him thence: but we may shut the doors. 1. Eph. Pausanias as he is of Royal Blood, We with all Tenderness regard: but now, His Treason's plain, thanks to the Gods, and You, Protectress of our Country, his Punishment Is just, and he shall have it. She sees Argilius Body. Anc. Good Heavens! Argilius dead! 1. Eph. Pausanias' killed him, as soon as we appeared. Anc. The Temple violated! Murderer of his Friend! Had he met Me, thus he had served his Mother. Ah! pitied Youth! Pattern of virtuous Faith! Thou hadst been sase, had I not sent thee here. I did it for the best— yet the last rights, Thy Funeral Obsequies I will perform, My Son forgot, and only Mourn for thee. Inhuman, Barbarous Pausanias! But acts like these, are Trifles to such Traitors. The fearful Sinner, trembling at the first New fault, believes himself for ever cursed: Finding no Punishment, he ventures in, Till by degrees he's quite immerged in Sin: His Pleasure now, which had his Horror been. Thus, when with hardened guilt, good Principles are gone, Millions of blackest Crimes urge one another on. FINIS.