former Brutus for the Crime Of Sextus drive old Tarquin from his Kingdom And shall this Prince too by permitting others To act their wicked Wills and lawless Pleasures Ravish from the Empire its dear Health Well-being Happiness and ancient Glory Go on in this dishonourable rest Shall he I say dream on while the starv'd Troops Lie cold and waking in the Winter Camp And like pin'd Birds for want of sustenance Feed on the Haws and Berries of the Fields O temper temper me ye gracious Gods Give to my Hand forbearance to my Heart Its constant Loyalty I would but shake him Rouze him a little from this death of Honour And shew him what he should be Theo. You accuse me As if I were some Monster most unheard of First as the Ruin of the Army then Of taking your Commission But by Heav'n I swear O Marcian this I never did Nor ere intended it Nor say I this To alter thy stern usage for with what Thou hast said and done and brought to my remembrance I grow already weary of my life Marc. My Lord I take your word you do not know The wounds which rage within your Country's Bowels The horrid usage of the suff'ring Soldier But why will not our Theodosius know If you intrust the Government to others That act these Crimes who but your selfs to blame Be witness ye Gods of my plain dealing Of Marcian's honesty how-e'er degraded I thank you for my banishment but alas My loss is little to what soon will follow Reflect but on your self and your own Joys Let not this Lethargy for ever hold you 'T was rumour'd through the City that you lov'd That your Espousals should be solemniz'd When on a sudden here you send your Orders That this bright Favourite the lov'd Eudosia Should lose her Head Theo O Heav'n and Earth What say'st thou That I have seal'd the death of my Eudosia Marc. 'T is your own Hand and Signet Yet I swear Tho' you have giv'n to Female hands your sway And therefore I as well as the whole Army For ever ought to curse all Woman-kind Yet when the Virgin came as she was doom'd And on the Scaffold for that purpose rais'd Without the walls appear'd before the Army Theo. What on a Scaffold ha before the Army Marc. How quickly was the Tide of Fury turn'd To soft Compassion and relenting Tears But when the Axe Sever'd the brightest Beauty of the Earth From that fair Body had you heard the groan Which like a peal of distant Thunder ran Through all the armed Host you would have thought By the immediate Darkness that fell round us Whole Nature was concern'd at such a Suff'ring And all the Gods were angry Theo. O Pulcheria Cruel ambitious Sister this must be Thy doing O support me noble Marcian Now now 's the time if thou dar'st strike behold I offer thee my Breast with my last Breath I 'll thank thee too if now thou draw'st my Blood Were I to live thy Councel shall direct me But 't is too late╌ He swoons Marc. He faints what hoa there Lucius Enter Lucius My Lord the Emperour Eudosia lives She 's here or will be in a minute moment Quick as a thought she calls you to the Temple O Lucius help╌I have gone too far but see He breaths again╌ Eudosia has awak'd him Theo. Did you not name Eudosia Marc. Yes she lives I did but feign the story of her Death To find how near you plac'd her to your Heart And may the Gods rain all their Plagues upon me If ever I rebuke you thus again Yet 't is most certain that you sign'd her death Not knowing what the wise Pulcberia offer'd Who left it in my Hand to startle you But by my Life and Fame I did not think It would have toucht your Life O pardon me Dear Prince my Lord my Emp'rour Royal Master Droop not because I utter'd some rash words And was a mad Man╌by th' immortal Gods I love you as my Soul what e'er I said My thoughts were otherwise believe these Tears Which do not use to flow all shall be well I swear that there are Seeds in that sweet Temper To attone for all the Crimes in this bad Age. Theo. I thank thee first for my Eudosia's Life What but my Love could have call'd back that Life Which thou hast made me hate But oh methought 'T was hard dear Marcian very hard from thee From him I ever reverenc'd as my Father To hear so harsh a Message╌but no more We are Friends Thy hand Nay if thou wilt not rise And let me told my Arms about thy Neck I 'll not believe thy Love In this forgive me First let me wed Eudosia and we 'll out We will my General and make amends For all that 's past Glory and Arms ye call And Marcian leads me on╌ Marc. Let her not rest then Espouse her straight I 'll strike you at a heat May this great humour get large growth within you And be encourag'd by the emboldning Gods O what a sight will this be to the Soldier To see me bring you drest in shining Armour To head the shouting Squadrons╌O ye Gods Methinks I hear the echoing Cries of Joy The sound of Trumpets and the beat of Drums I see each starving Soldier bound from Earth As is some God by Miracle had rais'd him And with beholding you grow fat again Nothing but gazing Eyes and opening Mouths Cheeks red with Joy and lifted Hands about you Some wiping the glad Tears that trickle down With broken Io's and with sobbing Raptures Crying to Arms He 's come our Emp'rour's come To win the World Why is not this far better Than lolling in a Lady's lap and sleeping Fasting or praying Come come you shall be merry And for Eudosia she is yours already Marcian has said it Sir she shall be yours Theo. O Marcian oh my Brother Father all Thou best of Friends most faithful Counsellor I 'll find a Match for thee too e'er I rest To make thee love me For when thou art with me I 'm strong and well but when thou art gone I am nothing Enter Athenais meeting Theodosius Theo. Alas Eudosia tell me what to say For my full Heart can scarce bring forth a word Of that which I have sworn to see perform'd Athen. I am perfectly obedient to your pleasure Theo. Well then I come to tell thee that Varanes Of all mankind is nearest to my Heart I love him dear Eudosia and to prove That Love on trial all my Blood 's too little Ev'n thee if I were sure to die this moment As Heav'n alone can tell how far my Fate Is off O thou my Soul 's most tender Joy With my last Breath I would bequeath him thee Athen. Then you are pleas'd my Lord to yield me to him Theo. No my Eudosia no I will not yield thee While I have Life for Worlds I will not yield thee Yet thus far I am engag'd to let thee know He loves
THEODOSIUS OR The force of Love A TRAGEDY ACTED BY Their ROYAL HIGHNESSES Servants AT THE Duke's Theatre Written by NAT. LEE WITH THE MUSICK betwixt the ACTS â•ŒNec minus periculum ex magna Fama quam ex mala Tacit. LONDON Printed for R. Bentley and M. Magnes in Russel-street near Covent-garden 1680. The PERSONS Theodosius Mr. Williams Varanes Mr. Betterton Marcian Mr. Smith Lucius Mr. Wiltshire Atticus Chief Priest Mr. Bowman Leontine Mr. Leitherfull Chorus  Pulcheria Mrs. Betterton Athenais Mrs. Barry Julâ—a  Delâ—a  Attendants Singers  The SCENE CONSTANTINOPLE PROLOGUE WIT 〈◊〉 opprest and fill'd at last with rage Thus in a sullen mood rebukes the Age. What loads of Fame do modern Hero's bear For an inglorious long and lazy War Who for some skirmish or a safe Retreat Not to be dragg'd to Battle are call'd Great But oh what do ambitious States-men gain Who into private Chests whole Nations drain What sums of Gold they hoard is dayly known To all mens cost and sometimes to their own Your Lawyer too that like an O Yes bawls That drowns the Market-Higler in the Stalls That seems begot conceiv'd and born in brawls Yet thrives He and his crowd get what they please Swarming all Term-time thro' the Strand like Bees They buz at Westminster and lye for Fees The godly too their ways of getting have But none so much as your Phanatick Knave Wisely the wealthiest Livings they refuse Who by the fattest Bishopricks wou'd loose Who with short hair large Ears and small blue Band True Rogues their own not Gods Elect command Let Pigs then be profane but Broths allow'd Possets and Christian Caudles may be good Meet helps to reinforce a Brothers blood Therefore each Female Saint he does advise With groans and hums and ha's and gogling eyes To rub him down and make the Spirit rise While with his zeal transported from the ground He mounts and sanctifies the Sisters round On Poets onely no kind Star e're smill'd Curst Fate has damn'd 'em every Mothers Child Therefore he warns his Brothers of the Stage To write no more to an ingrateful age Think what penurious Masters you have serv'd Tasso ran mad and noble Spencer starv'd Turn then who e're thou art that canst write well Thy Ink to Gaul and in Lampoons excell Forswear all honesty traduce the Great Grow impudent and rail against the State Bursting with spleen abroad thy Pasquils send And chuse some Libel-spreader for thy Friend The Wit and Want of Timon point thy mind And for thy Satyr-subject chuse Mankind THEODOSIUS To her Grace the Dutchess of Richmond MADAM THE Reputation that this Play received on the Stage some few Errors excepted was more than I could well hope from so Censorions an Age from whom I ask but so much necessary Praise as will serve once or twice a Year at most to gain their good Company and just keep me alive There is not now that Mankind that was then When as the Sun and Man did seem to strive Joynt-Tenants of the World who should survive When if a slow-pac'd Star had stoln away From the Observer's marking he might stay Two or three hundred Years to see 't agen And then make up his Observation plain Dr. Donn For 't is impossible in our limited Time and I bring his Opinion to back my own who is without comparison the best Writer of the Age to present our Judges a Poem half so perfect as we cou'd make it I must acknowledge Madam with all humility I ought to have taken more time and more pains in this Tragedy because it is dedicated to Your Grace who being the best Judge and therefore can when You please make us tremble yet with exceeding Mercy have pardon'd the defects of Theodosius and given it Your entire Approbation My Genius Madam was Your Favourite when the Poet was unknown and openly receiv'd Your Smiles before I had the Honour to pay Your Grace the most submissive Gratitude for so illustrious and advantageous a Protection To let the World too know that You do not think it beneath You to be officiously Good even from extremest Heights to discern the lowest Creatures and give them all the Noblest Influence You can You brought Her Royal Highness just at the exigent Time whose single Presence on the Poet's Day is a Subsistence for him all the Year after Ah Madam if all the short-liv'd Happiness that miserable Poets can enjoy consit in Commendation only nay if the most part are content with Pop'lar Breath and even for that are thankful How shall I express my self to Your Grace who by a particular Goodness and innate Sweetness meerly for the sake of doing well have thus rais'd me above my self To have Your Grace's Favour is in a word to have the Applause of the whole Court who are its Noblest Ornament magnificent and eternal Praise Something there is in Your Mien so much above that we vulgarly call Charming that to me it seems Adorable and Your Presence almost Divine whosedazling and Majestick Form is a proper Mansion for the most elevated Soul And let me tell the World nay sighing speak it to a Barbarous Age I cannot help calling it so when I think of Rome and Greece Your extraordinary Love for Heroick Poetry is not the least Argument to shew the Greatness of Your Mind and fulness of Perfection To hear You speak with that infinite Sweetness and Chearfulness of Spirit that is natural to Your Grace is methinks to hear our Tutelar Angels 'T is to bemoan the present malicious Times and remember the Golden Age But to behold you too is to make Prophets quite forget their Heaven and bind the Poets with eternal Rapture Here pure and eloquent Blood Spoke in her Cheeks and so distinctly wrought That one might almost say her Body thought You for whose Body God made better Clay Or took Souls Stuff such as shall late decay Or such as need small change at the last day Dr. Donn Ziphares and Semandra were first Your Grace's Favourites and though I ought not Madam to praise Your Wit by your Judgment of my Painting yet I must say Such Characters every Dauber cannot draw It has been often observed against me That I abound in ungovern'd Fancy but I hope the World will pardon the Sallies of Youth Age Despondence and Dulness come too fast of themselves I discommend no Man for keeping the beaten Road but I am sure the Noble Hunters that follow the Game must leap Hedges and Ditches sometimes and run at all or never come in to the fall of the Quarry My comfort is I cannot be so ridiculous a Creature to any Man as I am to my self for who should know the House so well as the good Man at home who when his Neighbours come to see him still sets the best Rooms to view and if he be not a wilful Ass keeps the Rubbish and Lumber in some dark Hole where no body comes but himself to mortifie at
melancholy Hours But how then Madam in this unsuitable condition how shall I answer the infinite Honours and Obligations Your Grace has laid upon me Your Grace who is the most beautiful Idea of Love and Glory who to that Divine Composition have the noblest and best-natur'd Wit in the World All I can promise Madam and be able to perform is That your Grace shall never see a Play of mine that shall give offence to Modesty and Vertue and what I humbly offer to the World shall be of use at least and I hope deserve imitation which is or ought to be I am sure the Design of all Tragedies and Comedies both Ancient and Modern I should presume to promise my self too some Success in things of this nature if Your Grace in whom the Charms of Beauty Wit and Goodness seem reconcil'd at a leisure Hour would condescend to correct with Your excellent Judgment the Errors of MADAM Your Graces most humble most obedient and devoted Servant NAT. LEE THEODOSIUS OR THE Force of Love ACT I. SCENE I. A stately Temple which represents the Christian Religion as in its first Magnificence Being but lately establisht at Rome and Constantinople The Side Scenes shew the horrid Tortures with which the Roman Tyrants persecuted the Church and the Flat Scene which is the Limit of the Prospect discovers an Altar richly adorn'd before it Constantine suppos'd kneels with Commanders about him gazing at a bloody Cross in the Air which being incompass'd with many Angels offers it self to view with these words distinctly written In hoc signo vinces Instruments are heard and many Attendants The Ministers at Divine Service walk busily up and down till Atticus the Chief of all the Priests and Successor of St. Chrysostom in rich Robes comes forward with the Philosopher Leontine The Waiters in Ranks bowing all the way before him A Chorus heard at distance Prepare prepare the Rites begin Let none unhallow'd enter in The Temple with new Glory shines Adorn the Altars wash the Shrines And purge the place from Sin Attic. O Leontine was ever Morn like this Since the Celestial Incarnation dawn'd I think no Day since that such Glory gave To Christian Altars as this Morning brings Leont Great Successor of holy Chrysostom Who now triumphs above a Saint of Honour Next in degree to those bright Sons of Heav'n Who never fell nor stain'd their Orient Beams What shall I answer How shall I approach you Since my Conversion which your breath inspir'd Attic. To see this Day th' Emperour of the East Leaves all the Pleasures that the Earth can yield That Nature can bestow or Art invent In his Life's spring and bloom of gawdy years To undergo the Penance of a Cloyster Confin'd to narrow Rooms and gloomy Walks Fastings and Exercises of Devotion Which from his Bed at midnight must awake him Methinks O Leontine is something more Than yet Philosophy could ever reach Leont True Atticus you have amaz'd my reason Attic. Yet more to our Religious lasting honour Marina and Flavilla two young Virgins Imperial born cast in the fairest mould That e're the hands of Beauty form'd for Woman The Mirrors of our Court where Chastity And Innocence might copy spotless Lustre To Day with Theodosius leave the World Leont Methinks at such a glorious resignation The Angelick Orders should at once descend In all the Paint and Drapery of Heav'n With charming Voices and with lulling Strings To give full Grace to such Triumphant Zeal Attic. No Leontine I fear there is a fault For when I last confess'd th' Emperour Whether disgust and melancholy Blood From restless Passions urg'd not this Divorce He only answer'd me with Sighs and lushes 'T is sure his Soul is of the tenderest make Therefore I 'll tax him strictly but my Friend Why should give his Character to you Who when his Father sent him into Persia Were by that mighty Monarch then appointed To breed him with his Son the Prince Varanes Leont And what will raise your Admiration is That two such different Tempers should agree You know that Theodosius is compos'd Of all the softness that should make a Woman Judgment almost like fear fore-runs his Actions And he will poise an Injury so long As if he had rather pardon than revenge it But the young Persian Prince quite opposite So Fiery sierce that those who view him nearly May see his haughty Soul still mounting in his Face Yet did I study these so different Tempers Till I at last had form'd a perfect Union As if two Souls did but inform one Body A friendship that may challenge all the World And at the proof be matchless Attic. I long to read This Gallant Prince who as you have inform'd me Comes from his Father's Court to see our Emperour Leon. So he intnded till he came to Athens And at my homely board beheld my Daughter Where as Fate ordered she who never saw The Glories of a Court bred up to Books In Closets like a Sybil. She I say Long since from Persia brought by me to Athens Unskill'd in Charms but those which Nature gave her Wounded this scornful Prince In short he forc'd me To wait him thither with deep protestations That Moment that bereft him of the sight Of Athenais gave him certain Death Enter Varanes and Athenais But see my Daughter honour'd with his presence Vara. 'T is strange O Athenais wondrous all Wondrous the Shrines and wonderful the Altars The Martyrs though but drawn in painted Flames Amaze me with the Image of their suff'rings Saints Canoniz'd that dar'd with Roman Tyrants Hermits that liv'd in Caves and fed with Angels By Orosmades it is wondrous all That bloody Cross in yonder Azure Sky Above the Head of kneeling Constantine Inscrib'd about with Golden Characters Thou shalt o'er-come in this If it be true I say again by Heav'n 't is wond'rous strange Athen. O Prince if thus Imagination stirs you A fancy rais'd from figures in dead Walls How would the Sacred Breath of Atticus Inspire your Breast purge all your dross away And drive this Athenais from your Soul To make a Virgin Room whom yet the Mould Of your rude Fancy cannot comprehend Vara. What says my Fair Drive Athenais from me Start me not into Frenzy lest I rail At all Religion and fall out with Heaven And what is she alas that should supplant thee Were she the Mistress of the World as fair As Winter Stars or Summer setting Suns And thou set by in Nature's plainest Dress With that chaste modest look when first I saw thee The Heiress of a poor Philosopher Recorders ready to flourish I swear by all I wish by all I love Glory and thee I would not lose a thought Nor cast an Eye that way but rush to thee To these lov'd arms and lose my self for ever Athenais Forbear my Lord. Vara. O cruel Athenais Why dost thou put me off who pine to death And thrust me from thee when I would approach
The rigid Principles ye have infus'd Yet oh my noble Father to convince you Since you will have it so propose a Marriage Tho with the thought I am covered o're with Blushes Not that I doubt the Prince that were to doubt The Heavens themselves I know he is all truth But modesty╌ The Virgins troublesome and constant guest That that alone forbids╌ Leon. I wish to Heav'n There prove no greater bar to my belief Behold the Prince I will retire a while And when occasion calls come to thy aid Ex. L Enter Varanes and Aranthes Vara. To fix her on the Throne to me seems little Were I a God yet would I raise her higher This is the nature of thy Prince But oh As to the World thy judgment soars above me And I am dar'd with this Gigantick Honour Glory forbids her prospect to a Crown Nor must she gaze that way my haughty Soul That day when she ascends the Throne of Cyrus Will leave my Body pale and to the Stars Retire in Blushes lost quite lost for ever Aran. What do you purpose then Vara. I know not what But see she comes the glory of my arms The only business of my instant thought My Souls best Joy and all my true repose I swear I cannot bear these strange desires These strong impulses which will shortly leave me Dead at thy Feet╌ Athen. What have you found my Lord In me so harsh or cruel that you fear To speak your griefs Vara. First let me kneel and swear And on thy hand seal my Religious Vow Streight let the breath of Gods blow me from Earth Swept from the Book of Fame forgotten ever If I prefer thee not O Athenais To all the Persian greatness Athen. I believe you For I have heard you swear as much before Vara. Hast thou O why then did I swear again But that my Love knew nothing worthier of thee And could no better way express my Passion Athen. O rise my Lord╌ Vara. I will do every thing Which Athenais bids If there be more In Nature to convince thee of my Love Whisper it oh some God into my Ear And on her Breasts thus to her listning Soul I 'll breath th'Inspiration Wilt thou not speak What but one sigh no more Can that suffice For all my vast expence of Prodigal Love O Athenais What shall I say or do To gain the thing I wish Athen. What 's that my Lord Vara. Thus to approach thee still thus to behold thee╌ Yet there is more╌ Athen. My Lord I dare not hear you Vara. Why dost thou frown at what thou dost not know 'T is an imagination which ne'er pierc'd thee Yet as 't is ravishing 't is full of Honour Athen. I must not doubt you Sir But oh I tremble To think if Isdigerdes should behold you Should hear you thus protesting to a Maid Of no Degree but Vertue in the World╌ Vara. No more of this no more for I disdain All Pomp when thou art by far be the noise Of Kings and Courts from us whose gentle Souls Our kinder Stars have steer'd another way Free as the Forest-Birds we 'll pair together Without remembring who our Fathers were Fly to the Arbors Grots and flow'ry Meads And in soft murmurs interchange our Souls Together drink the Chrystal of the stream Or taste the yellow Fruit which Autumn yields And when the Golden Evening calls us home Wing to our Downy Nest and sleep till Morn Athen. Ah Prince no more Forbear forbear to charm me Since I am doom'd to leave you Sir for ever Vara. Hold Athenais╌ Athen. I know your Royal Temper And that high Honour reigns within your Breast Which would disdain to wast so many hours With one of humble blood compar'd to you Unless strong passion sway'd your thoughts to love her Therefore receive oh Prince and take it kindly For none on Earth but you could win it from me Receive the gift of my Eternal Love 'T is all I can bestow nor is it little For sure a heart so coldly chaste as mine No Charms but yours my Lord could e'er have warm'd Vara. Well have you made amends by this last comfort For the cold Dart you shot at me before For this last Goodness Oh my Athenais For now methinks I ought to call you mine I empty all my Soul in thanks before you Yet oh one Fear remains like Death it chills me Why my relenting Love did talk of parting Athen. Look there and cease your wonder I have sworn To obey my Father and he calls me hence╌ Enter Leontine Vara. Ha Leontine by which of all my Actions Have I so deeply injur'd thee to merit The smartest wound revenge could form to end me Leon. Answer me now O Prince for vertue prompts me And honesty will dally now no longer What can the end of all this Passion be Glory requires this strict accompt and asks What you intend at last to Athenais Vara. How Leontine Leon. You saw her Sir at Athens said you lov'd her I charg'd her humbly to receive the Honour And hear your Passion Has she not Sir obey'd me Vara. She has I thank the Gods but whither wouldst thou Leon. Having resolv'd to visit Theodosius You swore you would not go without my Daughter Whereon I gave command that she should follow Vara. Yes Leontine my old Remembrancer Most learn'd of all Philosophers you did Leon. Thus long she has attended you have seen her Sounded her Vertues and her Imperfections Therefore dread Sir forgive this bolder Charge Which Honour sounds and now let me demand you╌ Vara. Now help Aranthes or I am dasht for ever Aran. Whatever happens Sir disdain the Marriage Leon. Can your high thoughts so far forget themselves To admit this humble Virgin for your Bride Vara. Ha! Athen. He blushes Gods and stammers at the question Leon. Why do you walk and chafe your self my Lord The business is not much Vara. How Leontine Not much I know that she deserves a Crown Yet 't is to Reason much tho' not to Love And sure the World would blush to see the Daughter Of a Philosopher on the Throne of Cyrus Athen. Undone for ever Leon. Is this your answer Sir Vara. Why dost thou urge me thus and push me to The very brink of Glory where alas I look and tremble at the vast Descent Yet even there to the vast bottom down My rash Adventurer Love would have me leap And grasp my Athenais with my Ruine Leon. 'T is well my Lord╌ Vara. Why dost thou thus provoke me I thought that Persia's Court had store of Honour To satisfie the height of thy Ambition Besides old Man my Love is too well grown To want a Tutor for his good Behaviour What he will do he will do of himself And not be taught by you╌ Leon. I know he will not Fond Tears away I know I know he will not But he would buy with his Old Man's Preferment My Daughter for your Whore Vara. Away I say my Soul
speak╌ Leon. 'T is true my Lord this is my Daughter Whom I conceal'd in Persia from all Eyes But yours when chance directed you that way Theo. He says 't is true Why then this heartless Carriage O? were I proof against the Darts of Love And cold to Beauty as the Marble-Lover That lies without a thought upon his Tomb Would not this glorious dawn of Life run through me And waken Death it self ╌Why am I slow then What hinders now but in spight of Rules I burst through all the bands of Death that hold me He kneels And fly with such a hast to that Appearance As bury'd Saints shall make at the last Summons Athen. The Emperour at my Feet O Sir forgive me Drown me not thus with everlasting shame Both Heav'n and Earth must blush at such a view Nor can I bear it longer╌ Leon. My Lord she is unworthy╌ Theo. Ha! what say'st thou Leontine Unworthy O thou Atheist to perfection All that the blooming Earth could send forth fair All that the gawdy Heav'ns could drop down glorious Unworthy say'st thou Wert thou not her Father I swear I would revenge╌But hast and tell me For love like mine will bear no second thought Can all the Honours of the Orient Thus sacrific'd with the most pure Affection With spotless thoughts and languishing desires Obtain O Leontine the Crown at last To thee I speak thy Daughter to my Bride Leon. My Lord the Honour bears such estimation It calls the Blood into my aged Cheeks And quite o'er-whelms my Daughter with Confusion Who with her Body prostrate on the Earth Ought to adore you for the proffer'd Glory Theo. Let me embrace and thank thee O kind Heav'n O Atticus Pulcheria O my Father Was ever change like mine Run through the Streets Who waits there Run and lowd as Fame can speak With Trumpet-sounds proclaim your Emperor's joy And as of old on the great Festival Of her they call the Mother of the Gods Let all work cease at least an Oaken Garland Crown each Plebeian Head Let sprightly Bowls Be doal'd about and the toss'd Cymbals sound Tell 'em their much lamented Theodosius By Miracle is brought from Death to Life His Melancholy's gone and now once more He shall appear at the State 's Helm again Nor fear a Wrack while this bright Star direct us For while she shines no Sands no cowring Rocks Shall lie unseen but I will cut my way Secure as Neptune through the highest stream And to the Port in safety steer the World Athen. Alas my Lord consider my Extraction With all my other Wants╌ Theo. Peace Empress peace No more the Daughter of old Leontine A Christian now and Partner of the East Athen. My Father has dispos'd me you command me What can I answer then but my Obedience Theo. Attend her dear Pulcheria and oh tell her To Morrow if she please I will be happy Ex. Pulch. and Athen. O why so long should I my Joys delay Time imp thy Wings let not thy Minutes stay But to a moment change the tedious day The day 't will be an Age before to Morrow An Age a Death a vast Eternity Where we shall cold and past Enjoyment lie Enter Varanes and Aranthes Vara. O Theodosius Theo. Ha! my Brother here Why dost thou come to make my Bliss run o'er What is there more to wish Fortune can find No flaw in such a glut of happiness To let one Misery in╌O my Varanes Thou that of late didst seem to walk on Clouds Now give a loose let go the slackned Reins Let us drive down the Precipice of Joy As if that all the Winds of Heav'n were for us Vara. My Lord I am glad to find the Gale is turn'd And give you Joy of this auspicious Fortune Plough on your way with all your Streamers out With all your glorious Flags and Streamers ride Triumphant on╌And leave me to the Waves The Sands the Winds the Rocks the sure destruction And ready Gulphs that gape to swallow me Theo. It was thy Hand that drew me from the Grave Who had been dead by this time to Ambition To Crowns to Titles and my slighted Greatness But still as if each work of thine deserv'd The smile of Heav'n╌thy Theodosius met With something dearer than his Diadem With all that 's worth a wish that 's worth a life I met with that which made me leave the world Vara. And I O turn of Chance O cursed Fortune Have lost at once all that could make me happy O ye too partial Powers But now no more The Gods my dear my most lov'd Theodosius Double all those Joys that thou hast met upon thee For sure thou art most worthy worthy more Than Jove in all his Prodigality Can e'er bestow in Blessings on Mankind And oh methinks my Soul is strangely mov'd Takes it the more unkindly of her Stars That thou and I cannot be blest together For I must leave thee Friend this night must leave thee To go in doubtful search of what perhaps I ne'er shall find if so my cruel Fate Has order'd it Why then farewel for ever For I shall never never see thee more Theo. How sensible my tender Soul is grown Of what you utter O my gallant Friend O Brother O Varanes Do not judge By what I speak for Sighs will interrupt me Judge by my Tears judge by these strict Embraces And by my last Resolve Tho' I have met With what in silence I so long ador'd Tho' in the Rapture of protesting Joys I had set down to morrow for my Nuptials And Atticus to Night prepares the Temple Yet my Varanes I will rob my Soul Of all her Health of my Imperial Bride And wander with thee in the search of that On which thy Life depends╌ Vara. If this I suffer Conclude me then begotten of a Hind And bred in Wilds No Theodosius no I charge thee by our Friendship and conjure thee By all the Gods to mention this no more Perhaps dear Friend I shall be sooner here Than you expect or I my self imagine What most I grieve is that I cannot wait To see your Nuptials Yet my Soul is with you And all my Adorations to your Bride Theo. What my Varanes will you be so cruel As not to see my Bride before you go Or are you angry at your Rival's Charms Who has already ravisht half my Heart That once was all your own Vara. You know I am disorder'd My melancholy will not suit her blest Condition Exit Theo. And the Gods know since thou my Athenais Art fled from these sick Eyes all other Women To my pall'd Soul seem like the Ghost of Beauty And haunt my memory with the loss of thee Enter Athenais Theodosius Leading her Theo. Behold my Lord the occasion of my Joy Vara. O ye immortal Gods Aranthes oh Look there and wonder Ha! is 't possible Athen. My Lord the Emperour says you are his Friend He charges me to use my Interest And beg of you
down the Floor Unmov'd she saw the Flood And blest her dying hour Philander ah Philander still The bleeding Phillis cry'd She wept a while And forc'd a smile Then clos'd her Eyes and dy'd Enter Pulcheria Pulch. How fares my dear Eudosia ha thou look'st Or else the Tapers cheat my sight like one That 's fitter for thy Tomb than Caesar's Bed A fatal Sorrow dims thy shaded Eyes And in despite of all thy Ornaments Thou seem'st to me the Ghost of Athenais Athen. And what 's the punishment my dear Pulcheria What Torments are allotted those sad Spirits Who groaning with the burden of Despair No longer will endure the Cares of Life But boldly set themselves at liberty Through the dark Caves of Death to wander on Like wilded Travellers without a Guide Eternal Rovers in the gloomy Maze Where scarce the Twi-light of an Infant Moon By a faint Glimmer checkering through the Trees Reflects to dismal view the walking Ghosts And never hope to reach the blessed Fields Pulch. No more o' that Atticus shall resolve thee But see he waits thee from the Emperour Thy Father too attends Enter Leontine Atticus c. Leont Come Athenais Ha what now in Tears O fall of Honour but no more I charge thee I charge thee as thou ever hop'st my Blessing Or fear'st my Curse to banish from thy Soul All Thoughts if possible the Memory Of that ungrateful Prince that has undone thee Attend me to the Temple on this Instant To make the Emperour thine this Night to wed him And lie within his Arms. Athen. Yes Sir I 'll go╌ Let me but dry my Eyes and I will go Eudosia this unhappy Bride shall go Thus like a Victim crown'd and doom'd to bleed I 'll wait you to the Altar wed the Emperour And if he pleases lie within his Arms. Leont Thou art my Child agen Athen. But do not Sir imagine that any Charms Or Threatnings shall compel me Never to think of poor Varanes more No my Varanes No╌ While I have Breath I will remember thee To thee alone I will my Thoughts consine And all my Meditations shall be thine The Image of thy Woes my Soul shall fill Fate and my End and thy Remembrance still As in some Pop'lar Shade the Nightingale With piercing Moans does her lost Young bewail Which the rough Hind observing as they lay Warm in their Downy Nest had stoln away But she in mournful Sounds does still complain Sings all the Night tho' all her Songs are vain And still renews her miserable strain So my Varanes 'till my Death comes on Shall sad Eudosia thy dear Loss bemoan Ex. Athenais Atticus SCENE II. Enter Varanes Vraa 'T is Night dead Night and weary Nature lies So fast as if she never were to rise No breath of Wind now whispers through the Trees No noise at Land nor murmur in the Seas Lean Wolves forget to howl at Night's pale Noon No wakeful Dogs bark at the silent Moon Nor ' bay the Ghosts that glide with Horror by To view the Caverns where their Bodies lie The Ravens perch and no Presages give Nor to the Windows of the dying cleave The Owls forget to scream no midnight sound Calls drowsie Echo from the hollow ground In Vaults the walking Fires extinguisht lie The Stars Heav'ns Centry wink and seem to die Such universal Silence spreads below Through the vast Shades where I am doom'd to go Nor shall I need a Violence to wound The Storm is here that drives me on the Ground Sure means to make the Soul and Body part A burning Fever and a broken Heart What hoa Aranthes Enter Aranthes I sent thee to the Apartment of Athenais I sent thee did I not to be admitted Aran. You did my Lord but oh I fear to give you an account Vara. Alas Aranthes I am got on the other side Of this bad World and now am past all fear O ye avenging Gods is there a Plague Among your hoarded Bolts and heaps of Vengeance Beyond the mighty Loss of Athenais 'T is contradiction speak then speak Aranthes For all misfortunes if compar'd with that Will make Varanes smile╌ Aranth My Lord the Empress Crown'd and adorn'd with the Imperial Robes At this dead time of Night with silent Pomp As they design'd from all to keep it secret But chiefly sure from you I say the Empress Is now conducted by the General Atticus and her Father to the Temple There to espouse th' Emperor Theodosius Vara. Say'st thou is 't certain hah Arant Most certain Sir I saw 'em in procession Vara. Give me thy Sword malicious Fate O Fortune O giddy Chance O turn of Love and Greatness Marry'd she has kept her Promise now indeed And oh her pointed Fame and nice Revenge Have reach'd their end No Aranthes no! I will not stay the lazy Execution Of a slow Fever Give me thy Hand and swear By all the Love and Duty that thou ow'st me To observe the last Commands that I shall give thee Stir not against my purpose as thou fear'st My Anger and Disdain Nor dare to oppose me With troublesome unnecessary formal Reasons For what my Thought has doom'd my Hand shall seal I charge thee hold it stedfast to my Heart Fixt as the Fate that throws me on the Point Tho' I have liv'd a Persian I will fall As fair as fearless and as full resolv'd As any Greek or Roman of 'em all Aranth What you command is terrible but sacred And to atone for this too cruel Duty My Lord I 'll follow you╌╌╌ Vara. I charge thee not But when I am dead take the attending Slaves And bear me with my Blood distilling down Streight to the Temple lay me O Aranthes Lay my cold Coarse at Athenais's Feet And say O why why do my Eyes run o'er Say with my latest Gasp I groan'd for Pardon Just here my Friend hold fast and fix the Sword I feel the Artery where the Life-Blood lies It heaves against the Point╌╌Now O ye Gods If for the greatly wretched you have room Prepare my place for dauntless lo I come The force of Love thus makes the Mortal Wound And Athenais sends me to the Ground Kills himself SCENE III. The outward part of the Temple Enter Pulcheria and Julia at one Door Marcian and Lucius at another Pulch. Look Julia see the pensive Marcian comes 'T is to my wish I must no longer lose him Lest he should leave the Court indeed he looks As if some mighty secret work'd within him And labour'd for a Vent inspire me Woman That what my Soul desires above the World May seem impos'd and forc'd on my Affections╌ Luc. I say she loves you and she stays to hear it From your own Mouth Now in the Name of all The Gods at once my Lord why are you silent Take heed Sir mark your opportunity For if the Woman lays it in your way And you over-see it she is lost for ever Marc. Madam I come to take my eternal leave Your Doom