Pausanias, the betrayer of his country a tragedy, acted at the Theatre Royal by His Majesties servants / written by a person of quality.

Pausanius THE Betrayer of his Country.

ACT I.

SCENE I. PAUSANIAS's 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 sence to find he is of Use, And therefore knows he may be troublesome: I must have patience.

Enter Polaemon.

Pol.

I beg your Graces pardon for disturbing your re∣tirement.

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 past 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 quoth'a, I thought he'd ne're ha' done with his Laws; he throated you out Laws, Laws Laws for an hour together, I stood up my Lord, and what do mee I, my Lord, but —but wisht 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'l find it a hard matter, he is never to be gain'd 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 rail'd at Demo∣cracy, and said 'twas a nasty slovenly Government, and not fit for a Gentleman, and then the most Tyranical 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 Iuno's bedstaff I grew into cho∣ler

then and said, and said, and said—my Lord—

Paus.

Ay you did so, my Lord Polaemon I thank you kindly, you have spent your self with Zeal, I advize you to go home, and refresh your self my dear Friend,—and be Crucifi'd.

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.

cou'd 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 happen'd—

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 busie Knaves encrease 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 guarde. Some minutes hence. I must confer with thee.

Exit.

Arg.

I will attend—

A knocking, Argilius goes to the door.

The Ambassadour of Persia by his knocking.

The door open'd, the Ambassadour enters in hast.

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, Dye in my Post like him.

Amb.

Noble Argilius I commend thy truth: More then a thousand Tryals I have known.

Arg.

Then this might have been spared.

Amb.

Come, we are Friends. Here is a pledge, you shall accept this triffle,

Offers him a Ring.

A kind forerunner of suceeding Love.

Arg.

My Lord, I serve the Regent out of Love, And am a Spartan, Sir, of Noble Blood, We Spartans ne're take gifts from Forreigners: 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 int'rest with the Regent shall be us'd, To raise his kindness equal to your merit.

Arg.

My Lord, the Regent now comes forth himself.

Enter Pausanias.

Pau.

My Lord Ambassadour, 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 sawey 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 Rascalls; Those teazing Candidates for Places, and Preferment, Filling the restless Courts of great Ones,

With lies, and feathers, falshood and perfume.

Arg.

Wou'd to the Gods I cou'd prevent your ruine, As sure, as that Ambassadour designs it.

Exit.

Pau.

So, now no more Ambassadour, but Friend. Dear Artabazus, tell me, hast thou ought Receav'd from Persia?

Amb.

Long live my Master, the great King, and you The backward fruit, which you dispair'd 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 perform'd, that all The lazy Counsels of the World are stunn'd, 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 be∣nefit is laid up in our house, indelibly registred for ever; my Daughter also is thine, as thou desirest; let neither night nor day, make thee remiss in what thou hast promis'd Me; neither be thou hindred by the expense of Gold, or Silver; I have a hundred thousand Men lye 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 Vs 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 Natures Work house still, Conversing with unfinisht 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 pow'r to feel himself a Man: If in a moment, the dark curtain drawn, Darkness is coucht, and light springs all around,

Like him, I stand aghast, like him admire: Husht with enlightned joy my other senses lye, And I forget to speak.

Amb.

Blest be the glorious Ruler of the day, Blest the great Xerxes, and my Lord Pausanias O! be not silent, Sir but give your pleas'd Resentment way.

Pau.

Gods! the Stupendious, goodness of the King! Kind, as he's great! he calls his intrest, 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 giv'n me favour with the King. O! that I cou'd deserve such condescention! 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 perswade 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 shou'd have askt my life: All that I am, or have, is his. He, he desires To make me great, Xerxes, that God on Earth! I shoud 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 wou'd 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 Supream of Greece, I wonnot be at all.

Amb.

Spoke like your self my Lord.

Pau.

But yet, I know not what, methinks I fear

The crafty Ephori agen 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 loose the Prize. Dispatch your orders then, and call the Persians in. They'l bring such tools with 'em, will quickly free Th' imprison'd Crown, clense every Jewel there, And bnrnish the dim Gold, made cheap, and soild With sawey handling of the Populace. Not the lest rust, lest speek 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 dazling streams from every side Shall shoot, making the slavish Ephori first behold The King despotick darted in their eyes.

Paus.

O! what a pleasure such a day would bring, To humble Sparta with an enrag'd 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 pow'r) Vast bonfires shall be built—

Paus.

Like Becons blaze, To shew 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'l be Idoliz'd, and Fear'd at home. You'l be as Iove himself, who reigns above, Absolute Lord, and not to be controul'd. Dispatch your orders then, and bring the Persians in.

Paus.

I will be suddain—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 promist Freedom I have gain'd) 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'l 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 hast, and bring the Persians in.

Paus.

She, who has born a share in all my labours, She, who inspir'd Me first with love, and zeal For the great Xerxes Royal interest▪ Pandora, who has left Luxurious Persia, Contented with hard Spartan entertainment, Advis'd 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.

Ambassadour alone.

Amb.

What does he mean? 'tis the first time I've fail'd. I have not study'd 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: Encourag'd, Prais'd, his youth, and strength he wasts, Till growing old, and having done his most, The useless cur is hang'd— 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 looses him— That must be answer'd, 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 serv'd 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 undisciplin'd, Ours season'd, and long practis'd in their trade. Hast, Artabazus, hast, the means prepare, And bring 'em in, to make new Conquests here.

Exit.

Pausanias enters.

Pau.

Now to Pandora—I'le stop the Persian Army. What need of strangers, when our Friends can do't? Pleas'd with my promises, 'tis true, I've had Some of their Persian Gold, employd it too To serve my own, and not their Interest. Vain Xerxes! think'st thou I'm to toyl for thee? And only Conquer for a Spartan Crown? No, tho' ruine I design, and rather than fail, I wou'd call in, and ev'n assist thy arms, Yet first I'le try to get the spoyl my self. Greece I design shall fall, and Crown With Sovereign Rule my pains alone. When General of the Greecian force, I drove Almost three hundred thousand Persians, Mardonius slaine, from fam'd Platea's fields. Then I sought glory with my Countrys good. Now with it's 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 busie 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? Do's 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 fall'n into the snare; Too late thou'lt find thy flattering hopes deceive thee. I'le to the Princess Anchilthea, Acquant her with my fears,— A Mothers Councel with a Mothers 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, wou'd I could say as much.

Lys.

Why what in the Name of Pluto wou'd ye have? You are the Regents 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, damn'd 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 your self. 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 rake-hel enough that's the truth on't, but since you say I have the Spleen so much, pray give me a remedy.

Lys.

I cou'd prescribe many, but here's one just now fals 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, then they clinch us with a Wife, and that Faith is most commonly plague enough, for I'de fain know any thing so sneaking and foolish a sight, as a young Fellow that has bin Mar∣ried but half a year?

Arg.

What! then 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 Iove I am a Spartan, and love Liberty, he that's indiffe∣rently easy, is a Fool to thro' 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 shou'd 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 your self admirers too, and your whi∣ning Adorers, I wou'd have Marry; I wou'd have all Ugly people to Marry, and get out of sight, that the hand∣some

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 shou'd have it, for since the Ma∣trimonial 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 e'm loose a good deal every night about it, wou'd I were with e'm, I'de so rock 'em: then forsooth to keep up the shew 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 is'nt Trickt, and drest out, not she; nor dos'nt Simper, not she; then afterwards you are told a damn'd 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 admir'd by us Men.

Lys.

Ay the scarcest Commodities are ever the most va∣lu'd: you can't know some things 'till you use them, we are Devilishly impos'd upon sometimes in Merchandizes that are set to Sale; what do you think they Dress them∣selves out for, with so much Pains and Art? what do you think they take such Care to shew themselves afterwards for, if not for Sale? and if we past by without Cheap'ning 'em, they'd cry out what do ye Lack Sir.

Arg.

Fy, fy, meer 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 Hus∣band 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 lye 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'le meet you in the Evening, at Minerva's Temple, and then I may have leasure to laugh with you.

Lys.

The Old Lady sets out I assure you, for something, or another, look to yoor self Argilius.

Arg.

Well, I dare venture her. Minerva's Temple.

Lys.

I wonnot fail to meet you.

Exeunt.

SCENE II. 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 Seige, your Captive, When midst the sound of War, and heat of Glory Love too display'd his ensigns, with sighs and Vows, And winning looks, you tun'd me to your Love, Byzantium and Pandora both were yours,

weeps.

Happy and pleas'd, my Chains I bore, thro 'all Rough seasons, and more rugged Fortunes (unknown Till then) I follow'd 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 Loofe, Your well got Fame which sounds thro'out the World, If it must go, let it be like your self, With vast Designs, and those too well concerted; Then more then giddy chance is on your side; Trust not Pausanias, trust not Feeble aid; The awkward Helots, timerous and Enslav'd And all the Party that you can propose, Are but the dross, and refuse of the Land; The best are gon to the Athenian War, Shall great Pausanias thus poorly trust his sate, No, let a Warlike hoste 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, wou'd make you Gawdy Persians Feel, once agen the Force of hardy Greece, Of that no more, Pandora, you'r to blame, Press me no farther.—

Pan.

My Lord, you seem to be displeas'd, with Me: If I have said what Mis-became me If Passion too much Innocent freedom shew'd— Believe that Passion only was my fear, My fear for you and that you shou'd forgive.

Paus.

Stifle that fear, for fear that brings no help, May bring much harm; trust me Pandora, trust My grown experience, I've weigh'd 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 wou'd I'de ne're been born 'Twere better, better I had never known,

Ne're felt the joys of great Pausanias love, If I shou'd say the Gods themselves, ne're tasted Diviner bliss: I think I shou'd not boast, A noble Flame you've kindl'd in my Soul, Fed, with your breath, your looks, your every Grace, Heroick actions, and your feasts of love, Unenvi'd, and unrelish'd 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 murd'ring 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 dispatch'd

[Embraces is going▪]

Pan.

Stay Sir, yet stay, 'till I have finish'd mine, 'Twill not be long a doing, and then I'le never Disturb you more, I see you are resolv'd,

Takes his hand.

(With utmost grief, and all the pangs of parting Souls I find it) to seek your Ruine, let me Once more Embrace the greatest Man on Earth—

Embrace.

What will the World loose? What shall I loose rather? Who live not but in you— Like flowers spreading to the rising Sun. Beauteous, and gay, while they are warm'd by him, But when he's gone and the Cold Evening comes, Clos'd up their wither'd sweets Decay, and Die—

Sinks in his Arms.

Paus.

Ha! She's gone, what hoa there, the woman has O'recome her Spirits, what hoa who waits?—

Enter Ser.

Be sure you take all necessary care— I'me loath to leave her thus, but I'le avoid The second grief of parting, and please her more Returning with Success—

Exit.

Pan.

Away, stand off, he's gon, and all my arts, The Woman, and the Mistress too have fail'd,— However I have done my part for Xerxes. And Artabazus when he knows it must Approve my management; I love Pausanias, or I lov'd him once And I wou'd 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 Enterprize Is Madness, Fury, throwing all away. Rather than have him lost, I will call in The Persians—Pythia, you find out my Lord Ambassadour—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'le seise this Night: once more attempt his Love Before to Morrows bloody Enterprize: For after that I must despair to see him. If I'm unlucky— Let him unpity'd fall, and his loath'd 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're; What Magick 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're shall be Free.

Man.

I faint with the Pleasure I fain wou'd repeat,

Wom.

Ah why are Love's Raptures so short and so sweet?

Both.

Thus pressing and kissing, fresh Ioys we'l pursue, And ever be happy, and ever be true.

Wom.

But alas! shou'd 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, winter'd, dying hopes? Why am I slighted thus I shou'd complain, But wou'd not willingly complain of You. Wou'd I had been more Fair, You less reserv'd: 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 ev'n them From those dear Lips, they shall be mended all: My Love can Conquer every thing but You: Cruel Argilius! yet I wonnot think, Yov will be Cruell, for my being kind.

Arg.

Your dazling Beauty, and your wondrous Charms Are fit for Iove, 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 'ore 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 wou'd make you mine Argilius,

Arg.

In me 'twere Sacrilegious rage Indeed, To violate the Temple of his Love.

Pan.

The Temple's meanly serv'd, 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 Exchang'd; 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'de 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▪ dispairing pine My life away; give me one tender look, One moments love, and I'le forgive you all.

Arg.

O! Help me all ye Powers or I am gone,— A strange forgetfulness comes o're my Soul,

aside.

And I can think of nothing else but her. I know not how, I'me hurry'd 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 Neptunes waves foretell. A storm of swelling Joy, plunge boldly in, Within these Arms you can no danger fear, No Rock, but Scorn, no Shipwrack but Despair.

Arg.

Friendship and Love, distract my tortur'd mind, Such kindling Charms, such Tenderness, such Love, With thousand Graces, Favours undeserv'd, Set me on fire, and captivate my Soul. But then methinks I hear Pausanias, betray'd by me, Cry out, there there he goes, Th'ungrateful Villian, whom I thought my Friend, Argilius, only he cou'd 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 gon; Thou honest Fool, unfit for me; thou hadst But few hours happiness to taste, and those Thou hast lost, to morrow thour't no more, then perish With the Helots and Pausanias;— No, I'le be reveng'd on him, the cause of this, And thee; so honourably you shall not fall; I'le to the Ephori, discover all, And leave you to the Executioner:

upgoing.

Arg.

Hold Madam hold,—a womans hate is fatal,

aside.

I find he is engag'd 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'le merit it, with all that I can think, Or do, for you.

Pan.

I take you at your word, You've sav'd his Life: And that's an action worthy of a Friend.

Arg.

Then I am blest, and now am wholy yours

Embraces her.

My Life, my Soul, which way will you dispose—

Enter Servant.

Serv.

Madam the Persian Ambassadour.

Pan.

Conduct him up—wou'd he were in Persia:

Exit Serv.

This comes of loosing time.

Arg.

He must not see me here, I'le soon return And then—

Exit Arg.

Pan.

And then deceive me if thou can'st.

Enter Ambassadour.

My Lord you'r come very opportunely, I long'd To see you, tho' I wish, I cou'd Tell better news, I follow'd your Commands, Tri'd all you'r Arts, and some too of my own, To change Pausanias mind, but all in vain. There's a Fatality that urges him, To ruine, 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 do's; as soon as e're 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 your self. And helpless we are lost.—

Pan.

I feign'd to swoon, at last and so he left me: I heard him say, he quickly wou'd 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 disturb'd, I doubt our common enemy his Mother the Princess Anchilthea, undermines us.

Pan.

The Spartan Ladies, are all Politicians, All Patronesses of the publick 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, Inform'd by me, of all your beauteons Charms, Loves you unseen, desires your Character, And when Triumphant he arrives in Greece, Pleas'd with the Charge, and Proud of such a Mistress, I'le 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 pleas'd 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'me 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 try'd a second time in vain— —You have inspir'd me Madam, And to your influence I owe the thought, By the bright Sun I have it— I'le send a Letter to the Ephori, unsign'd, 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'le 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 busie, bustling here at home, Our Men may land securely.

Pan.

Excellent! our time's but short.

Amb.

I'le instantly about it.

Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Publick Place.

Enter Anchilthea.

Anc.

Sparta! thou noblest seat of Liberty! Still may'st thou be preserv'd and greater still, Freed from self Interest, and base corruption, From trayterous designs of trusted Friends, And slavish Principles, yet more dangerous. Ba thou the Ballence still of Greece and spread Thy easy Conquests thro' the Persian sway:

Thus it was once, thus, thus it us'd to be, When with united Hearts, and hands we fought, And smiling Fortune purpled the Victors 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 rais'd my Jealousie—

Enter Pausanias Attended by his Party.

I'le try Pausanias, if I find him bent On ill Designs, my self wou'd 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'l prove much like him in his Virtues, You are his Guardian, Son, and shou'd inform him Of his Fathers Actions, worthy his Imitation, Tell him the Great Leonidas with Heroick Fortitude, redeem'd poor Greece from Persian Slavery, When with but only three, three Hundred men,— He stopt their torrent at Thermopylae, Which threatn'd utter Desolation; tell him His Father then lost his life, but mounted To the Gods, a glorious Victim for his Country, Tell him he refus'd the Soveraignty of Greece, Offer'd by Xerxes, and chose a Noble Death, rather than an ignominious Rule, Tell him what all good Kings shou'd 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 requir'd Pausanias, The Virtues of the Ancients shou'd be shewn,

The liberality of Agamemnon, Old Nestors Eloquence, Vlissess Arts, and the brave Daring of Achilless too. A King shou'd learn to fill his People's hands, Study to rob 'em only of their hearts, That wou'd become a King: and then so wise, That he should be a Councel to himself. So Bold and Daring, that while others pause Upon the Danger he shou'd break thro' it, And leave them to finish the easie part; On Justice and Clemency I cou'd much more enlarge, But this methinks is somewhat more than Spelling.

Paus.

The Kings of Sparta have all this inspir'd, 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 Scepter'd sway, I doubt not, I wish all Kings were such, if not, They are to be the more despis'd, you once My Son, were one of those great Souls, Oh pleasure To my thoughts! With joy unspeakable I heard the News, And blest the Gods Sparta and Greece were sav'd, Sav'd 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 Woud bring 'em in agen. My Son, my Son, Your dress, your Manners, Customes, and what most I fear, your Inclinations to are theirs, A Persian Strumpet, and a Persian Spie, Are dearer to you than the Love of Sparta; Take heed Pausanias, keep your self from Plots, Loose 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 Common-Wealth, For know, that were they more, your Plots are vain,

For Sparta like the Rain-bow, 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 Stemm, If 'gainst my hopes and cares, thou prov'st a Villain, I with these Arms which nur'st thee up for good,

Draws a Dagger.

Will be the first, shall dye '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 wou'd ought, but what Is great and Glorious,— Think on the Torments of a Mothers Soul, Who strives to save her only darling Child, Often forewarn'd to keep within his bounds, The Giddy headed minds it not, Entic't By other, and his own desire to range, Ventures to far, till mist, his Mother calls, And runs and crys in vain, Helpless and Breathless. Now she see's, the hopefull boy is by a Tyger slain, this, this, is my case now. I know Thy wild designs, and wou'd prevent thy fall.

Pau.

Madam I must admire you for your Vertue Tho' you▪ Condemn me, on your bare Suspition, Have I not given proof of my Love to Sparta? Witness what you have said.— Why then am I accus'd, by restless humours, And causeless Jealousies? if I design It shall be how to make my self 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 despotick, you wou'd be a Tyrant, And like a Monster waste this Fruitful Land, Then Starve your self, forsaken and abhord.

As in a Moment after the Last sigh, The Body motionless, coulour the Face, Heat flies the stiffining Veins, The glorious tissue soon unweaves it self, 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're 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're to morrows Sun reddens the Western Sky You'le find me clear my self—

Anc.

—Else may the Traytor Die.

Exeunt.

The End of the Third Act.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. A Garden.

Enter Argilius, Lysander with Demetria, and Mawkine with a Baby.

Arg.

YOU have a very fine Garden here Madam, and very well understood, as every thing else is a∣bout you.

Dem.

Oh good Sir I have no fancy at all indeed, if we are but clean, 'tis the most we can pretend to; how∣ever this little out-let 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 over-run 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 a∣bout,

we were up this morning by nine a clock I protest, and were drest in two hours time, as you may guess by the hanging of our Cloaths.

Lys.

Nothing can be more exact Madam, I'me in a∣maze it cou'd be done in so short a time, pray Madam don't hurry your self 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 cou'd 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'de 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'le 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'l do so no more, I dare pro∣mise for her, she was only practising how to dandle a living Baby of her own.

They laugh.

Dem.

Oh Sir I'me 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 wou'd 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 cou'd say what's this; but I grow old now and must leave that to my Daughter.

Arg.

No body wou'd take her for your Daughter Madam, you must call her Sister indeed, so youthful and bloom∣ing 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'le leave the World to Judg;

Dem.

No no, I can't belive it, tho' I was young and beauty∣ful once, your Unkle (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 lov'd play in those days, there wou'd be such Squabling, 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'le Swear I'me out of Countenance. O Iuno! 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 Phisick and Openings, the Mischei∣vous Creature gets her self Stop't again, do what I can.

Maw.

Why Mother 'twas only a little Apple my Cousen Memnon gave me, when we were at play together on the Bed in the Damsen Coulor'd Chamber.

Dem.

Ay thou art a Tom-rigs, fy 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, there∣fore stand still —look here a great peice of Chalk—a Scrap of Parchmin—a great peice of Allum, —an Apple Scoop, and a raw Turnip—are not you a lying Girl? speak—a peice of Plaister-lime and hair, meer 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'le—

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 Mothers heart that she does, for me this is the daily Life I have with her or worse, I have tri'd all the fair means in the World, but it signifies no∣thing, a great Hoiden as she is, you shall have a Husband indeed, you shall, Ah if Lysander were not your true Lo∣ver, and blind to all your faults you might stay long e∣nough, e're any other wou'd be troubled with you, Oh I'me past Patience.

Maw.

Maw, waw here's a rout indeed—but I'le be re∣veng'd on you for this and that soon too.

Lys.

'Tis all nothing Madam, these little things are in∣cident to Youth, she'l 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 Virtu∣ous, all the Mischief she do's is to her self poor Child, but when you have her, she'l be Wean'd 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 Ladyships 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'le promise you, you cou'd not meet with a more upright Man than my Friend here, I'le 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 requit him so great a Kindness, and

endeavour always to shew my self deserving of the fa∣vours I receive.

Dem.

Well I vow I can't choose but look upon you— I Dream't last Night of just such a Face and Person,— well really ones Fancy works very odly when ones a sleep sometimes—Oh Iuno! Oh the Gods! she has run a Pin into me Iove knows how far—where is she—

[Lysan. steps between 'em]

Nay I will come at her—I'le never forgive it Huzzy—I shall meet with you,—

Lys.

for Heavens sake Madam be pacifi'd.

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 Sawcy Coxcomb Sir, what do you mean? do you know who I am?

Lis.

Yes Madam you han't conceal'd your self at all, I hope you don't think I or my Friend here, have any design upon you.

Dem.

Why this is intollerable, 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 ought I know.

Dem.

Had your Father the wealth of Persia, he nor you shou'd 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'l pay for't, come let's be gone.

Lys.

Nothing ever happen'd better, you have had the diversion I promis't you, and I have my Liberty secur'd, much sooner, then I expected. I'le tell my Father how she despis'd him, I know his temper, 'twill put a cer∣tain end to this business, and then the world's my own again.

Thanks to the Gods our Matrimony's done,

Which ne're begins too late, nor ends too soon.

Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Pausanias, and Ambassadour.

Paus.

Hear you the news my Lord Ambassadour?

Amb.

What news?

Paus.

Honest Argilius brings me word, The Business of the Helots is discover'd!

Amb.

O the good Gods discover'd!

Paus.

Eternal Death pursue the Villains fears, Rot, rot the hand, that writ the coward Scrowl; Wou'd I cou'd know the Secretary—but I have the means to spoyl 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! Puzling about, at last they've hit it off, And follow with full cry: I'le lay a trail Of Persian Game, shall draw 'em to the Toyls.

Amb.

Come my good Lord be pacify'd: it is But shifting Sail, and still the wind sits fair: We are not destitute, remember Rhodes.

Paus.

Rage, and Revenge, like fierce imprison'd 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 employ'd. So Great your Power, so many are Your Friends, The Ephori dare not say that you are guilty.

Paus.

He says I was not mention'd in the Paper. Let 'em suspect me, while they have no proof. I trust my Treasons only with a few. Let hot Brain'd Fools set up their noisy Clubs, Caball with Male-contents, and whisper Secrets, The very Forum will be sure to know: Nothing so vain, so Buoy'd with hopes as they, Durty and weary Hobbling up and down, To Spread reports which no Body believes; Mighty designs they Hatch in Speculation,

Not Possible in practise, 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 Block-heads Suffer fort.

Amb,

Your very right my Lord, They're only Engins, 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 lye 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 Rhetorick Artabazus, Now they shall come, my Friend, my last advise I will dispatch to Xerxes Instantly.

Amb.

But I am Cautious in the Messenger In these suspected times we ought to chuse 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 tri'd 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! hee's my Friend.

Amb.

Why let him shew it then: This way he carrys 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're return'd, By our Agreement suffering present Death.

Amb.

Then he will fall with Honour serving you.

Pau.

He sav'd my Life at fam'd Bizantium's Siege—

Amb.

And you wou'd 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 wee'll think upon another.

Amb.

There's not another: You are sure of him.

Pau.

Then I'le Subscribe his life shall be untoucht.

Amb.

You may and give him time to ruine Us. Consider Sir when he shall come to Rhodes And see the Mighty preparations there His zeal for Sparta, then preferr'd 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 signifie a Villain every way.

Emb.

Then you will thank his Friendship.

Pau.

He shall Dye. Friendship implys an Equal in the Throne; A Subject-Passion: But Ambition Fills all the Soul, and Godlike reigns alone

Exeunt.

SCENE III. Pandora's Apartment.

Enter Argilius.

Arg.

Now I shall prove the Ambassadour a Villain, I saw the letter which disclos'd the Plot Oth' Helots to the Ephori, and know the hand To be one of his Secretaries; I'me 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'le Feign to love her still Appoint my Lodgings as the meeting place Then bring Pausanias to find her Falshood;

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 Iv'e 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 pleas'd to give, And shew by Dying what it is to Live.

Arg.

Pardon me Madam pardon what is past, Pardon an unexperienc't Youth, and Love, I'le soon recover what I dully Lost, Thus Pleas'd, thus Charm'd, the Rival of the Gods I'me 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 own'd 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 ev'n a Minutes Pleasure; a week with us Shall be a Year, an Age, to other Lovers.

Pan.

Let us retire, least we be over heard.

Arg.

When shall I then be Happy? Let but that be fixt 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'le come to yours.

Arg.

At Eight my Life I will not fail to meet you, The doors shall be unlockt.

Pan.

Agreed, then 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,

Wou'd it were come.

Pan.

Time now appears our greatest Enemy, We wish him gon; anon he'l be our Friend, And we shall wish his stay, 'tis but an hour, Yet we may take a pledg for meeting.

Arg.

This, and this, and this—

Salute.

Pan.

Nay now you're lavish—

Arg.

The store can never never wast, 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 Jealosies a Foe That may pursue us, therefore quickly go, Absence like sullen night, darkens the joyful day,

Arg.

Return, like rising beams, will chace 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 Deserv'd reproches? Yet still I love thee, and will shew it too, A hard necessity promotes my Death, Were I a Villain, this way I shou'd not dye. Ambition causing Us t'expose our Friends, Makes me a Victim to unlawful Ends.

Enter Anchilthea.

Anc.

Why shou'd 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 bin spar'd; 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 cou'd loose my Life To save thee; but horrid destiny, brings with my death Thy fall; yet I cou'd save 'em both, and with A just Revenge, defeat the black design,— These, these wou'd do't, thy Life Pausanias Is Safe no longer, then I keep these Conceal'd, Pausanias Life! no, that is still so dear I cou'd ev'n wish his Villanies success. What is the World to me when I am gon? I Live for him: The Gods must look to Sparta, Then vanish all ye anxious cares, I'le go, My part I justly in obeying shew. What makes me thus! unusual tremblings seize me!

Stops.

And now methinks my Mothers bleeding Ghost Stands in the passage, and forbids my way, Calling me Traytor—so, she's, gone agen— How can this be? am I a Traytor then? All, all are so, Villains, and Traytors all, Who wound their Country's Peace, and drink her Blood, Who is the common Mother of us all! Villains, and Traytors all, who see the Sword At their dear Country's throat, and not disarm, And Stab its Rage thro' the Oppressors 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? Curst here thro' a Posterity Enslav'd, By my means? And doubly damn'd in Hell? Oh ye Just Gods assist!—

Anc.

The Gods by me are ready—

Snatches the letters.

Arg.

Oh Heavens! Madam let me intreat, 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, Traytor to every thing, now he is so to you, Cou'd 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 advis'd, you my protection have, I'le 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 abus'd, And I the guilty Villain fit to Fall.

Anc.

Charge not your self unjustly.

Arg.

What shall I do? what will he think of Me! I'le go to him, tell him I have Betray'd him, Urge him with all my Power to take my Life! But I'me Unworthy of a Death from Him. O! spare Pausanias: spare my Honour'd Lord:

Kneels.

The Seat of Mercy is a Mothers 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 Ambassadour alone is here concern'd

Rises.

And I will prove it, give me but the time.

Anc.

Miraculous Friendship! I wou'd calm his mind And manage these with the best Arts I can:

aside.

I'le send him to Neptunes Temple, There he is safe, Pausanias there will meet him, The Ephori shall over-hear 'em then: That will be proof, I hope if these are not. You charge the Ambassadour, I shall be glad if You can make it good.

to him.

In the mean time, that He may think you gon, Retire to Neptunes Temple, there take Sanctuary, To save you from his malice when he hears Himself accus'd, for he is Treach'rous, 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.

Blest be th' immortal Powers that sent me hither, Now I have proof which I so long have fear'd. Let me see, both to Xerxes—This is my Son's, This hand unknown—My curiosity Shall be th' excuse, I'le open this— Oh 'tis Sign'd Artabazus.

Reads.

Most mighty most Illustrious, and above all Princes Great and happy Xerxes, your Slave has with unwearied pains and diligence, pursu'd the matters given him in trust, and has at last prevail'd upon Pausanias to send for thy invincible Army, as soon as he shall have don what is expected from him, he shall suffer the same fate this Messenger must, that Xerxes may rise the sole Soverain of Greece, to whom all Nations be Subjected; Artabazus.

Brave Villain! And thou Fool Pausanias, Alas! why have I liv'd to see thy ruin? My peaceful Ashes undisturb'd had lain, And in the Grave I had not curst thy Birth; Some other then might have perform'd this task, Which tears a Mothers Soul. Now I find out why this Solemnity, Neptune must be implor'd with Sacrifice To bring the Persian Fleet, and Army safe; Can then Religion serve such Impious ends! Nature be gon, here I disclaim my Blood, Incorrigible to a Mothers councel, Often forgiven, still Engag'd in Ill, A spreading Gangreen to his Royal Stem, And must be fever'd to redeem the whole; I will assert the Glory of his Ancestors, Which he thus seeks to tarnish. Alass, in vain such black Designs are laid, Thousands of Noble Souls defend our Sparta, Unconquer'd 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 uncancel'd stands that first Decree.

Exit.

SCENE II. Neptune's Temple.

Enter High-Priest, a Choir of Priests follow'd by Pausanias.

Solemn MUSICK.

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 shoar, Save, and conduct our hopes, while we adore.

Cho.

Hear, mighty Neptune hear. From Crystal Throne adorn'd with Pearl, receive Our humble Vows, and thy Protection give.

H. Pr.

While blustring Winds do thee obey, No Storms can e're enrage the Sea, For gentle lucky gales we Pray.

Cho.

Hear, mighty Neptune hear, From Crystal Throne adorn'd 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. Encrease our Trafick, and our gain, On equal Terms, we never fear, We will be Masters every where, And Triumph ore the Main.

Cho.

Encrease our Trafick, &c.

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 wou'd have bin by me Directed, But you turn Politician.

Arg.

May the Great Deity within these Walls ador'd. Pursue me with his utmost Wrath, if I

Have fail'd, or did Design to fail your Orders, Unlucky Chance brought Anchilthea to me.

Pau.

What? then my Mother has prevail'd with you, Take heed Argilius.

Arg.

Going from you with full Intent to hast On Shipboard, she came into your Antichamber Unseen, and snatcht the Letters from my Hands.

Pau.

'Tis Mighty well, go on;

Arg.

I Feign'd, beseech't her to restore 'em, But in Vain, she Threatn'd all that's Dear to me, Your Life, I profer'd mine▪ Happy if she Had tane my Life then I conjur'd her, by A Mothers name by Pity, still unmov'd: 'Till at the last I said the Ambassadour Was guilty, and that I'de prove he onely was Concern'd; 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 hearken.

In every Place—I shall out-wit her yet— Without more proof, then this, I cannot fall Some of the Ephori I know my Friends— If they were all my Enemies Declar'd, 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 past a Senseless Life at Court, If I shou'd ask whose hands are to be fill'd: I know my Men, they won not fail their Fee: This way I wou'd not have thee Take, Thou ever kind and ever Dear Argilius. I have no time to Write, I can trust Thee, Proceed with hast 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 cou'd 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 Traytor—go, Take thy Reward then.

Kills Argilius then Scapes thro' the Guards.

Eph.

O horrid Fact!

Enter Lysander.

Lys.

I come to Acquaint your Lordships the Princess Anchilthea has been Sav'd by Miracle. Coming to the Temple thro' the Crouded streets, The Persian Woman, Pandora she is call'd, Did like a Fury rush upon her? And she as Bravely did Defend her self, Wresting the Dagger from the Traytress hands, And plung'd it in the Conquer'd Strumpets Heart.

1. Eph.

She has met a nobler Fate than she deserv'd. She shou'd have dy'd with Puplick infamy.

2. Eph.

Now hope we better daies, and for the Persian, We will employ our utmost force against him. The Ambassadour shall bear the News, He must depart to Night.

3. Eph.

We Spartans will preserve Our Freedom still, And drive their big swoln 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 doubl'd At the City Gates.

Enter Anchilthea to 'em.

Anc.

What! is the Traytor gone! And you my Lords, Are Satisfi'd? Have you not Proof enough?

For shame Rouse up your Souls: Or are you Brib'd 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.

Damm up the Temple Gates, there he shall starve: We must not violate the Holy Altar, To dragg 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 kill'd him, as soon as we appear'd.

Anc.

The Temple violated! Murderer of his Friend! Had he met Me, thus he had serv'd his Mother. Ah! pity'd Youth! Pattern of virtuous Faith! Thou had'st 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. Inhumane, Barbarous Pausanias! But acts like these, are Trifles to such Traytors. The fearful Sinner, trembling at the first New fault, believes himself for ever curst: Finding no Punishment, he ventures in, Till by degrees he's quite immerg'd in Sin: His Pleasure now, which had his Horror bin. Thus, when with hardened guilt, good Principles are gone, Millions of blackest Crimes urge one another on.

FINIS.