Titus and Berenice, a tragedy acted at the Duke's Theatre : with a farce called The cheats of Scapin / by Tho. Otway.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter Titus, Antiochus and Arsaces.

Tit.

ANtiochus! y'have done your Friendship wrong, In that y'have kept this Secret hid so long. What is't that your departure does incite, Which not unjustly, I may call a Fright? Tho on the Imperial Throne I'm plac'd, So highly seem with Fortunes favour grac'd; As if the nothing further had to grant: I more than ever, do your friendship want.

Ant.

Sir, your great kindness I so well did know, I durst not stay where I so much did owe. When first Iudaea heard your loud alarms, You made me your Companion in your arms. Nay, nearer to you did with friendship joyn, And lodg'd the secrets of your Brest in mine. Yet all this goodness but augments my sin, For I have false and most ungrateful been.

Tit.

I can't forget that to your arms alone, I owe the half of all I ever won: Witness those precious Spoils you hither brought, Won from the Iews when on my side you fought. To all those Purchases I lay no claim; Your heart and friendship are my only aim.

Ant.

My Heart! my Friendship! Heav'n, how you mistake! On my deceipt how weak a glos•• you make! When first you thought your self of me possest, You took a very Serpent to your brest.

Tit.

Antiochus, I find where thou art stung, Tell me th' officious Slave that does me wrong. Some base Detractor has my Honour stain'd, And in your easie heart a Credit gain'd. Ab••s'd and told you Titus is unjust; But I will know th•• tr••acherous Fiend, I must.

Tho you unkindly from your friend would run, And own th' unjustice which you think I've done.

Ant.

Oh Titus, if I durst but speak my heart; But 'tis a Secret hard from thence to part. 'Tis not from you, it is from Rome I fly, There's a Disease in't, I must ••hun or dye. Seek then no more what's dangerous to know, When most your friend, I shall appear your foe.

Tit.

I either to your heart a stranger am, Or sure Antiochus is not the same: What else should make you not your mind declare? What is't that you dare say, I dare not hear?

Ant.

If then, what e'r I utter, you dare hear, Receive the fatal Secret in your Ear. But arm your heart with Temper; well 'tis this:

Tit.

Go on,

Anti.

I love the charming Berenice.

Tit.

Hah!

Ant.

Yes, nor was I hateful to her Eyes, Till you came on and robb'd me of the prize. When at your Armies head you did appear, You sackt Ierusalem and conquer'd her.

Tit.

A braver Rival I'd not wish to find, Than him that dares be just and tell his mind. So far's Resentment from my heart remov'd; That Berenice is by my friend belov'd. That, I Antiochus, the thing extol, For she was made to be ador'd by all: And happy he that shall possess her;

Ant.

True, But 'tis fit none should be so blest but you, And Berenice for none could be design'd, But him that's the Delight of all Mankind. 'Tis for this cause to Syria I repair, For when you 're blest no envy should be near.

Tit.

O my Antiochus, when thou shalt see, How small's the happiness in store for me: Thou needst not fear thy Envy, let me have Thy pitty and thy aid, 'tis that I crave.

My best and truest friend, you must be so, For there's none fit for't in the World but you. None but a King, my Rival and my friend, Is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to speak the torments of my mind. In 〈◊〉〈◊〉 behalf you Berenice must see.

Antio.

Is that an office, Titus, fit for me? I••'•• not enough her Cruelties I bear, But yo•• must too solicite my despair? I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for ever from her to depart; Ala••! and dare not trust again my he••rt. Your passion by another may be shown, I have enough to do to rule my own.

Tit.

He that so well his own misfortunes bears, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 b••st instruct her how to temper hers. Nay, my Antiochus, you must not start. I know by mine, your news will shake her heart, For I m••st too, for ever from her part.

Antio.

Yo•• part?

Tit.

Yes! curst necessity! 'tis true, She that both conquer'd me and fetter'd you; In whom alone I sum'd up all Delight, Must be for ever banish'd from my sight.

Antio.

It cannot be. No Slave that wears her Chains, Up••n so e••sie terms his Freedom gains.

Tit.

Lord of the World my Empire wide does flow, I can m••ke K••••gs, and can depose 'em too▪ Th•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hearts must to my power bow down, A••d yet I ••m not Master of my own. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 th••t to Kings so long a foe has been, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my marriage with the Q••een. If 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to morrow be not gone, 〈…〉〈…〉 will to her Palace run; 〈…〉〈…〉 t••••ir rude outragious tougues, she'll hear 〈…〉〈…〉 to tell, and you to hear.

〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Now if my heart was to Revenge alli'd, How mi••••t I triumph in her falling Pride! To 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her Cruelties to me repaid, A•••• ••ith ••em all her tortur'd soul upbraid. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Titus, I'm more just, and rather mov'd, Th••t ••v'n, Sir, you dare wrong the thing I've lov'd.

Tit.

When I the Imperial Power did first assume, I firmly swore t'uphold the Rights of Rome; Should I to follow Love, from Glory fly, Forsake my Throne, in every Vassal's eye, How mean and d••spicable must I prove! An Emperor led about the World by love! No, Prince, the fatal story you must tell, And bid from me, poor Berenice farewel. But if the hopes of reigning in my heart May any ease to her sad mind impart; Swear, friend, by all that to my Soul is dear, Entire I will preserve her ever there. Mourning at Court, and more exil'd than she, My Reign but a long Banishment shall be, 〈…〉〈…〉 those Joys that wait on Pomp and Power. 〈…〉〈…〉 she her journey hence must take, 〈…〉〈…〉 that e'r I lov'd, forsake. 〈…〉〈…〉 Care and Conduct I commend, 〈…〉〈…〉 my Rival as a King and Friend, T•••• ••earest Treasure I dare with you trust;

Antio.

Sir, do not tempt me, lest I prove unjust: Her charms that mad•• me my own Fame forgo, Will be too apt to make me false to you.

Tit.

No more; I know thee, have thy Honour try'd, Firm still in Dangers found thee by my side. Thou knew'st my Love, whilst thine was yet conceal'd, When all thy hopes by my success were quell'd: Even at that time thou didst no falshood show,

[Exit. Titus▪

And wilt not wrong me on advantage now.

Antio.

No, I'le not see her, neither dare I go: Too soon from others her hard lot she'l know. Dost thou not think her Fat••'s enough severe, Unless that I th' unwelcome Message bear? I who'm her hate, enough have felt before, And need not seek new ways to purchase more.

Arsa.

See, she approaches, now the Coward play, And when you might have Conquer'd run away.

Enter Berenice and Phaenicia.

Antio.

Oh Heaven!

Ber.

My Lord, I see you are not gone, Perhaps 'tis me alone that you would shun.

Antio.

You came not here Antiochus to find, The visit to another was design'd. Caesar, and 'tis on him the blame must light, If now my presence here offend your sight. Th' are his Commands, are guilty of the sin: It may be else I had at Ostia been.

Ber.

His friends are always with his presence Grac'd, 'T••s I alone that cannot be so blest.

Antio.

Too much his prejudice upon you gain'd: 'Twas for your sake alone I was detain'd.

Ber.

For mine? away.

Antio.

Tyrannick fair, 'tis true, He kept me here only to talk of you.

Ber.

Of me, my Lord forbear this courtly art, Y' are brave and should not mock an easie heart. In my distress, what pleasure could you see? Alas! or what could Titus say of me?

Antio.

Better a thousand times than I can tell, So firm a passion in his heart does dwell. When you are nam'd, he's from himself transform'd, And every way betrays how much he's charm'd. Love in his face does like a Tyrant rise, And Majesty's no longer in his eyes. But there are things behind I dare not speak: For at the news your tender heart would break.

Ber.

How Sir?

Antio.

Ere night the truth of what I've said you'l know, And then, I doubt not, Justifie me too. Farewell.

Ber.

Oh, Heaven what can this Language mean! You see before your eyes a wretched Queen. Sir, of my quiet, if you have such care, Or if my self your eyes held ever dear, Dispel this mist of trouble from my Soul.

Antio.

Madam, your self excuse,

For your own sake it is that I refuse. 'Twill not be long before the doubt's remov'd.

Ber.

You told me once Antiochus, you lov'd; But sure'twas only that you might betray; Or else you more would fear to disobey.

Antio.

I disobey you, ask my life and try, How gloriously I for your sake can dye. It would by far, be the more welcome fate. Then now to speak, and ever gain your hate.

Ber.

No Sir, you never shall my hatred find, 'Tis my desire, and you must be so kind. Will you?—

Antio.

Heaven this constraint is worse than death, You drive, and will not give me time to breath. Oh, Madam! put me too no further pain.

Ber.

Must I then ever beg, and beg in vain? Hence forward Prince, either the truth relate, Forbear or be assur'd for ever of my hate.

Antio.

My heart was always yours, and is so still: For ever must depend upon your Will. I wish another way, your power you'd try'd: But you 're resolv'd, and must be satisfi'd; Yet flatter not your self, I shall declare, Those horrors which perhaps you dare not hear. You cannot but believe I know your heart, Look then to feel me strike its tender'st part. Titus has told me.

Ber.

What? fear no Surprize.

Antio.

That he must part for ever from your eyes.

Ber.

We part! can things another nature take? Or Titus ever Berenice forsake?

Antio.

Perhaps 'tis strange that I shou'd tell you so, But you shall find I'll do him Justice too, What ever in a heart both kind and great Love with despair most dreadful could create. I saw in his he weep's, laments, and more, Then ever dos fair Berenice adore. But what avails it, that such love he shows? A Queen suspected to Romes Empire grows. And Titus cannot with her Laws dispence, For therf••ore 'tis you must be banisht hence.

Ber.

What do I hear, alas 〈◊〉〈◊〉!

Antio.

Nay, to morrow is your last and utmost day, In bearing this the Courage well you'l prove Of that great haughty Soul which scorn'd my love.

Ber.

Will Titus leave his Berenice forlorn? He who so many Oaths, so oft hath sworn? I'le not believe't, his love and faith's more strong, I'm sure he's guiltless and you do him wrong. This is a snare to disunite us laid, Titus, thou lov'st me, dost not wish me dead. No, strait I'le see him, and secure all fear. Let's go.

Antio.

Too well you may behold him here;

Ber.

Too well you wish it to perswade it, No; In this your base degenerate Soul you show. When you no other stratagem could find, T' abuse my heart you would betray your friend. How e're he prove, Know I your sight abhor, And from this minute never see me more.

Antio.

Oh Berenice! remorseless cruel fair▪ Born only for my torment and despair, Was it for this so faithfully I serv'd? Is this the recompence I have deserv'd? I who for you did all Ambition wave, And l••ft a Kingdom to become your Slave. Curse on my Fate▪

Ber.

If 're my heart you priz'd, You never h••d this cruelty devi••'d. Never to work my Torment, been thus bold; And ••o Triumphantly the story told. Away Phaenicia no more I'le hear him speak.

Ex. Ber. Phae.

Antio.

Now, my Arsaces, would my heart but break But yet I hope in part I've freedom won. And what love would not, by her hate sh'as done. The pain I lately endur'd thou hast beheld, I left her all Enamour'd, Jealous, Wild▪ But now pe••forming this Ignoble part, Perhaps, I'le ever bani•••• her my heart.

She left me cruelly, and let her go; My Honour and Repose command it too, For ever to my eyes a stranger be, Till I have learn't to scorn as well as she.

[Exeunt.