The treacherous brothers a tragedy, as it is acted by Their Majesty's servants at the Theatre-royal / written by George Powell.

SCENE. V.

A Banquet set forth. Two Bowls on the Table.

Enter Orgillus.

Org.

I've sent according to my Brothers order, To bid Armena meet me instantly, 'Tis near the hour I did appoint her coming; How easy 'tis for man to be a villain; He that desires to bend his mind to mischief,

Let him but be a fix'd Industrious knave, And he can never fail of his designs. I hated Ithocles, conspir'd his fall, Assisted Menaphon in his designe Against a Queen virtuous and Innocent: But why shou'd I conspire Armena's Death? I cannot guess what Crime she has Committed; But I have waded into villany, And to proceed's less dangerous then retreating, The deeper Gulph I have plung'd o're, and now Have but the shallower Brink to ford it through.

Enter a Servant.

How now? your news?

Ser.

Armena Craves admittance.

Org.

Conduct her in—

[Exit Servant.]

Keep back you Checks of Conscience▪ You shou'd have stung me e're I had began This damnable design, 'twould now be base, To start from what so firmly was resolv'd.

Enter Armena.

She comes the Sacrifice draws toward the Altar, Come near my love, why does my Angell weep? Why drops the precious dew from those fair eyes? Art thou not well? what means that sigh Armena? If thou didst ever love me, tell the cause.

Arm.

O Orgillus, O cruell bloody man! To what a Sea of Ruine have you brought me?

Org.

Is't Possible! do you repent your kindness?

Arm.

Oh as you hope for happiness hereafter, As you wou'd gain Immortal peace of Heav'n, Be just, and save the Queen, and Ithocles, Declare to th' King your cursed mint of Forgery, Lay open all your Plot of bloud and horrour, And save your own, your Brothers Soul and mine: For sure Damnation must attend our Crime, That thus betrays a pair so Innocent.

Org.

How, my Armena! What! betray the secret? Wou'dst thou then have me Traytor to my Brother▪ Betray the man that has walk'd hand in hand, Assisted me in my Revenge: O horrid!

Arm.

A Traytor to him, no, you'l be's friend, You free him from Eternal Punishment. D'ye think that Heav'n, (which is in all things Just,) Will suffer treachery like ours to scape The Punishment our Treason has deserv'd? Upon my knees I beg you, as you hope, For pleasure here, and happiness hereafter; Go to the King, tell him your damn'd designe, His Joy to finde the Queen is Innocent, Will make him pardon us for our past crimes; And all the ill we have already done, Will be for ever Cancell'd and forgot.

Org.

Sit down my love, and tell me: shou'd I now Go to the King, acknowledge ev'ry fault, Tell him by what strange execrable means, We brought those Innocents into our Snare, D'ye think he wou'd forgive us?

Arm.

Not that only, But Favour us, esteem us his best freinds, Commend our happy, bless'd Remorse of Conscience; Think ev'ry hour of our remaining life Will be repentance, (as I'me sure it ought,) To wash the Guilt away that Clogs our Souls.

Org.

Since then Armena 'twas the love of me, Betray'd thee into our dark Consultation, I will to thee unfold my nearest Secret; My Brother and my self had so design'd, The morrow for Semanthes Execution, But now to shew my Gratitude and love, (Together with a sharp remorse of Conscience,) I'le change my Cruell, and (too) barbr'ous purpose, Content my self with what's already done, And rely wholly on the King for mercy.

Arm.

And are you reall?

Org.

As the Powers we serve.

Arm.

I thank you from my Soul my dearest Lord, You have by this kind grant made me your vassall.

Org.

Armena, A long life to the fair Queen; May she enjoy her former happiness, And be as bless'd as thou wilt presently, When I've reveal'd our story to the King, For sure 'twill over-joy thee.

[Orgillus drinks.]

Arm.

With more pleasure I wish her life, then Heirs their Fathers Deaths.

[Armena drinks out of the Poyson'd Bowle.]

But O make hast, lest his wild Jealousy, Shou'd hurry him to do the fatall deed, Which ne're can be recall'd.

Org.

It shall not be recall'd, nor sha't thou hinder it.

Arm.

What means my Love?

Org.

Dull thing I'le tell thee: I did (as now I finde I had some cause,) Suspect thy mind too wav'ring for a Secret, Of such great Consequence as ours was: Therefore thou frail one, with that bowl of poyson, I've Seal'd thy lips for ever.

Arm.

Can it be? Is this then the requitall of my love? But Oh 'tis now too late for to upbraid thee: Yet Orgillus, tho' you to me are Cruell, Be mercifull to'th Queen She's Innocent: O Save her, save her e're it be too late; Upon my knees with my last breath I beg, you Do not persist in that will bring destruction Even to your long eternity, and blot Your spotted Soul from the fair Book of Life.

Org.

A fit of Conscience; Pious fool! but Conscience, Is all our common frailty, when we're dying. But to be kinder to you at our parting, Then let you spend your last short breath in vain, Imploy the little time thou hast to live, Some other way, and not on talk to me▪ I have got by thee all the good I can▪ If thou hadst had a farther Power to serve me, Thou shoud'st have liv'd, but I have gain'd my End, And now 'tis for my Int'rest thou shou'dst die.

Arm.

You have your wish, I find your words are true▪ For Deaths Cold hand has seiz'd upon my heart: Farewell thou Chief of thy false perjur'd Sex, And O take heed! for bloud will sure have bloud; Tho' Cruell as you are, I can forgive you, And wish that Heav'n wou'd deal so mildly by you▪ My death is only what I have deserv'd.

But O beware, let not Semanthe Die, For hers, will surely be reveng'd at full▪ The fatall Drug works strongly in my breast, I feel, I feel my life decay apace; You powers forgive me for my Sinfull Crime▪ Take me; O take me to your bless'd abode; Preserve the Queen▪ let not this black designe, Reach her dear life, tho' it has lost ••e mine.

[Die▪

Org.

She's gone, now Brother thou'rt secure from fear, The Secret now's alone between us two; And if we are not Traytors to our selves, We must be safe; where shall I now dispose her? Stay, let me see, under my window runs, A River, very proper for my purpose: From thence Immediately I'le cast her in, And if she's found, ev'ry one will suppose, She met her Death by accident, or else, My Brother shall Insinuate to the King, She was Complotter with the Queen Semanthe, And Guilt had caus'd her act a desperate deed: It shall be so, I'le instantly dispatch, And tell my Brother how I have Succeeded. Farewell thou loving fool, I pitty thee. But 'twas not for my safety thou shou'dst live: For when we once are Conscientious grown, We cannot keep a Secret tho' our own,

[Exit Carrying off Armena▪

The Scene Drawn discovers Semanthe in Prison, In her Night-Gown, Reading, A Lamp burning by her.

Sem.

All's hush'd, and quiet as the peacefull Grave, The Labourer tyr'd with his dayly toil; Now takes a sweet repose, but I must wake, For ever wake, and never know content, Plac'd in a dismall, dark, and Loathsome Jail, And cannot guess what Crime I have Committed, Nor why the Cruell King is Angry, Were I but sensible of any fault, I shou'd then think it Justice I were here, But cou'd I search my life from the beginning, I cannot think a Guilt deserving this.

Enter to her the King.

Whose there at this late hour? my Lord the King!

King.

Yes, yes Adulteress: Look on me Monster, look on him thou'st wrong'd, Behold a King that would have dy'd for'thee, And for his faithfull violent Constant love, Cou'dst thou not make him a more kind return.

Sem.

O Sir, as you wou'd gain Immortall honour On Earth, and everlasting Joys in Heav'n, As you wou'd have your Glorious actions fill The Book of fame, and like ascending Incense, Perfume the Skies, and treat th' immortall Gods, Be kind, and let me know how I've offended, For by the Sacred lights that shine above, These eyes yet never saw the rising Sun, But that my Vows and Prayers were sent to Heav'n, For the dear safety of my Royall Lord; Therefore I cannot guess what wond'rous fauit, I have Committed to deserve a Dungeon.

King.

O thou bewitching Syren▪ dar'st thou plead, An Ignorance to all thy horrid Guilt, Nay, then thou are a Monster damn'd indeed, To Plunge in Sin and pretend Innocence: I thought, t'have found thee mourning for thy Crime: For Sinfull as thou art it was my wish, Thou might'st before thy Death make peace with Heav'n.

Sem.

My death! Good Heav'n what means my Royall Lord? I hope that time is not yet near at hand▪

King.

Most sure, why cou'dst thou think I'de be so tame, After I'de found thee false to let thee live?

Sem.

How false my Lord? in what?

King.

False to my bed. I need not tell thee, for thou know'st too well, By Heav'n thou art as light as fleeting ayr:

Sem.

Who's my accuser?

King.

My own eyes beheld thee, Clasp'd arm in arm with Ithocles.

Sem.

Nay then, I find I am Betray'd, and you Abus'd.

King.

Betray'd! Good Heav'n! what does the strumpet mean? Nay then 'tis time to give the fatall blow:

For shou'd I listen longer to her words,

[Aside.

She wou'd persuade me spight of all I saw, To take her to my Arms and pardon her. Come thou fair Devil, in thy Prayers reckon,

[to her.

The perfect sum of all thy horrid sins; There amongst others, pour forth streams of bloud, For one above the rest▪ Adul'try, Adul'try, Semanthe, Such a guilt, as were the Sluces of thy eyes let up, Tears cou'd not wash it off. Now turn thy eyes into thy hov'ring Soul, And do not hope for life, wou'd Angells sing, A Requiem at my Herse but to dispense With my Revenge on thee, 'twou'd be in vain: Prepare to dye.

Sem.

I will, most willingly, But wou'd fain make my Innocence appear, Dear Sir, upon my knees I do entreat you To hear me speak before my Execution: If I were that strange Monster you wou'd make me, It were but Justice you shou'd take my life, But here I swear by the Eternal Powers, By all my hopes in Heav'n, I am not false, Believe my tears.

King.

There's nothing of thee reall, I'de been too happy if thou hadst been true: The thrifty Heav'ns mingle our Sweets with gall, Lest being glutted with excess of good, We shou'd ungratefully forget the giver.

Sem.

O Sir—

King.

Be gone, take those Inchanting eyes away, There's a bewitching Influence within Those sparkling Circles, that unmans my Soul:

Sem.

Nay, if these eyes have Pow'r to make you kind,

[kneels.

They shall pursue you wheresoe're you go; With their soft, humble▪ pleading, courting tears, I'le weep 'em blind to quench your raging fires. Dear Sir, indulge, Improve these sparks of pitty, Mercy's the Glory of a Deity, subdue Your wild desires, and that Heroick deed, Is Nobler then the Conquest of a Kingdom; But if you stain your hands with Guiltless blood, Then think what dismall horrours wait on murder, Woolves, Ravens, screech-Owls then will be your Guests,

And my pale Ghost will haunt your startling Sleeps, Press your sad thoughts with loads more heavy then The Pond'rous Marble that Entombs my ashes.

King.

By Heav'n I can no longer bear her sorrows, Her watry eyes wou'd make a Tyger tame, One accent of that tongue wou'd Calm the Seas, Tho' all the Winds strove there at once for Empire▪ But Ha! Where am I going? Stay my fleeting Glory, I had design'd that great, that brave reveage, As shou'd have fix'd my vast immortal fame, High as a Monumentall Pyramid, And hid its Tow'ring Top among the Clouds, But thou false feind wou'dst shake my great Foundation: Take thy face hence.

Sem.

O Sir?

King.

I'le hear no more. Vanish false fire, bright Meteor disappear; It is not safe for me to tarry here; My mighty mind wou'd keep its sacred way, But she strews Flow'rs to lead my Soul astray.

[Ex. King.

Manet Semanthe.

Sem.

Pitty me Heav'n, and view my wretched State, Let me not undeserv'dly meet my fate, O Change this frantick humour in the King, His stragling sense to its first Station bring; Calm his wild rage, let him his Errour see, But if your doom decrees that I must dye, Let when I'm dead my Innocence appear, My spotless virtue to the World stand fair. O grant his mourning pitty may but come, And shed one tear on poor Semanthe's Tomb.

[Exit Weeping.

The End of the Fourth Act.