The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Ii Part 35

SCENE IV. _A Chamber_.

_Enter Queen, Cleomena, Honorius.

_Qu_. Is't possible, my Brother, you can have So great a Pa.s.sion for the publick good, As willingly to sacrifice your Child to its Repose, And make her Arms the soft and easy Chains To link this gallant Stranger to our Interest?

_Hon_. His Virtue I prefer above a Crown.

_Cleo_. You shou'd love Virtue as you ought to love it; Not give it over-measure--But are you sure he will accept it?

_Hon_. I am not certain, being not come so far; But I propos'd it, and no doubt he lik'd it.

_Cleo_. This cannot be his Malice; for he was ever n.o.ble, [Hon. _talks to the_ Queen.

But false or feign'd, I can endure no more on't: --By Heaven, this Stranger's false! false as his Name!

--_Semiris_ found him gazing on her Picture: --'Tis so--he loves _Olympia_!

And when I ask the Name of her he lov'd, I urg'd it with such softness in my Eyes, That he in Pity of me swore 'twas I: --Now can I find how much my Soul's possest With Love, since 'tis with Jealousy opprest.

[_Goes out_.

_Qu_. How do you like the Trial of _Orsames_, Which I intend to make?

_Hon_. You'll oblige your People, and do a Mother's Duty.

_Qu_. You know 'twas not the Tyrant in my Nature, That from his Infancy has kept him ignorant Of what he was--but the Decrees of Heaven.

_Hon_. Madam, 'tis true; and if the G.o.ds be just, He must be King too, though his Reign be short: You cannot alter those Decrees of Heaven.

_Qu_. The G.o.ds are Witness how these eighteen Years I have with much Regret conceal'd his Birth.

_Hon_. You know the last Defeat the _Scythians_ gave us, Th' impatient People broke the Castle-gates, And against all your Powers were ready to have crown'd him; And shou'd we now be conquer'd, nothing less Will still the mutinous Army: try him, Madam, He may be fit for great Impressions, Had he but good Examples to dispose him.

_Qu_. I'll have it done to night.

Heaven, if it be thy Will, inspire my Son With Virtue fit to wear his Father's Crown.

[_Exeunt_.

_Scene draws off, discovers_ Thersander _seemingly courting_ Olympia. _Enter_ Cleomena; _sees them, starts, gazes on them, then goes out unseen. The Scene closes and changes to her Apartment.--She enters in a Rage_--

_Cleo_. Perfidious Man! am I abandon'd then? [_Rage_.

Abandon'd for _Olympia_! my Slave-- And yet I lov'd him more than I did Heaven-- [_Soft_.

And shall he quit me thus?

Without being punish'd for this Infidelity?

--No, let me be a shame to all my s.e.x then --Oh, _Clemanthis_! to whom I fondly gave my Liberty, When first I saw thee sleeping in the Wood.

--But I grow soft, a Pa.s.sion too unfit For so much Anger as my Soul's possess'd with; 'Twas but even now he lov'd me with such Ardor, And he who promis'd me the Crown of _Scythia_, Dar'st thou become unjust, ungrateful Stranger!

Who having rais'd thy Eyes to _Cleomena_, Would sacrifice her to another Mistress?

--This Heart, which ought not to've been given away, But by the Services and Blood of Kings, How hast thou lost it on a false Unknown, Without being paid for it one single Sigh!--

_Enter_ Thersander; _she draws a Dagger; offers to kill him, but cannot_.

Traitor--hast thou the impudence to appear before me, Or dost thou come to meet thy just Reward?

[_Offers to stab him_.

--There's something in his Looks that does preserve him, Or I'm not truly brave, and dare not kill him.

--Go, treacherous Unknown, whom I've preferr'd Before so many Princes, who in vain Sue for this credulous Heart which thou'st betray'd.

_Ther_. Ah! Madam, can you be thus cruel to me, And not inform me how I have offended?

_Cleo_. Be gone, I say, if thou would'st save a Life, Which those that dare do evil fear to lose.

_Ther_. Those Eyes thus order'd are far worse than Death.

End what you have so well begun, And kill me; Yet from another's Hand The Blow would he less cruel.

_Cleo_. Oh, Impudence!

Still he wou'd cheat my Rage, as he has abus'd my Love; But, Monster, though thou art below my Hand, I'm yet a Princess, and I can command.

By Heaven, I'll try how much Rage can invent.

_Semiris_, call _Qlympia_ to me strait; She shall in Triumph with me stand and smile, To see thee by some Va.s.sal bleed.

_Ther_. There needs no other witness of my Death.

But her I have offended; To you alone I offer up my Life: for dying, I've something to relate may justify your Rage, Though not deserve your Pity.

_Cleo_. h.e.l.l!

Now I'm confirm'd, he fears that she should see Him die, lest it should cost her but a Tear; --Why should I want the Strength?

--But Oh, I cannot.

[_Offers to present the Dagger_.

But canst thou live, false Man, and see me frown?

_Ther_. No, Madam, I can die--thus-- [_Offers to fall on his Sword_.

_Cleo_. Stay-- Thou shalt not so much Glory gain: No, live, and prove wretched enough to know How very poorly thou hast lost my Heart.

[_Ex. raving_.

[Ther. _gazes after her_.

_Ther_. Must I then live?--I will obey--farewel, The fairest and unkindest of thy s.e.x; If e'er it be thy chance to meet with one That loves more than _Thersander_, if thou canst Treat him worse than thou hast done me-- For oh! how miserable is the Wretch, whose Prayer Repuls'd, like me, lives only to despair.

[_Exit_.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

_The Curtain is let down--being drawn up, discovers_ Orsames _seated on a Throne asleep, drest in Royal Robes, the Crown and Sctpter lying by on a Table_. Geron _near the Throne.

On either side of the Stage, Courtiers ready drest, and mult.i.tude of Lights. Above is discovered the_ Queen, Olympia, _and Women_, Pimante, Artabazes, Ismenes; _Soft Musick plays;--whilst he wakes by degrees, and gazes round about him, and on himself with Wonder_.

_Ors_.--G.o.ds! what am I?

--Or, is there any other G.o.d but I?

_Ger_. Yes, my great Lord; But you're a King, a mighty Monarch, Sir.

_Ors_. I understand thee, 'tis some G.o.d thou mean'st.