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Car. Then Rome shall know

The man, that makes her spring of glory grow.
Suet. Petillius, you have shewn much worth
this day,
Redeemed much error; you have my love again;
Preserve it. Junius, with you I make him
Equal in the regiment,

Jun. The elder and the nobler;

I will give place, sir.

Suet. You shew a friend's soul.

March on, and through the camp, in every tongue, The virtues of great Caratach be sung! [Exeunt.

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Heph. Coward flesh! O feeble arm! He dallied with my point, and when I thrust, He frowned and smiled, and foiled me like a fencer. O reverend Clytus, father of the war, Most famous guard of Alexander's life, Take pity on my youth, and lend a sword: Lysimachus is brave, and will but scorn me; Kill me, or let me fight with him again.

Lys. There, take thy sword, and since thou art resolved

For death, thou hast the noblest from my hand.

Cly. Stay thee, Lysimachus; Hephestion, hold; | Two wives he takes, two rival queens disturb I bar you both, my body interposed.

Now let me see, which of you dares to strike!

By Jove, ye have stirred the old man; that rash

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Heph. I was to blame.
Cly. This memorable day,

When our hot master, that would tire the world,
Out-ride the labouring sun, and tread the stars,
When he, inclined to rest, comes peaceful on,
Listening to songs: while all his trumpets sleep,
And plays with monarchs, whom he used to drive;
Shall we begin disorders, make new broils?
We, that have temper learnt, shall we awake
Hushed Mars, the lion, that had left to roar?
Lys. 'Tis true; old Clytus is an oracle.
Put up, Hephestion did not passion blind
My reason, I on such occasion too
Could thus have urged,

Heph. Why is it then we love?
Cly. Because unmanned.-
Why, is not Alexander grown example?
O that a face should thus bewitch a soul,
And ruin all, that's right and reasonable!
Talk be my bane, yet the old man must talk:
Not so he loved, when he at Issus fought,
And joined in mighty duel great Darius,
Whom from his chariot, flaming all with gems,
He hurled to earth, and crushed the imperial


Nor could the gods defend their images, Which with the gaudy coach lay overturned: 'Twas not the shaft of love, that did the feat; Cupid had nothing there to do; but now

The court; and while each hand does beauty hold, Where is there room for glory?

Heph. In his heart.

Cly. Well said.

You are his favourite, and I had forgot
Who I was talking to. See Sysigambis comes,
Reading a letter to your princess; go,

Now make your claim, while I attend the king. ]Exit.


Par. Did not you love my father? Yes, I see You did; his very name but mentioned brings The tears, however unwilling, to your eyes. I loved him too; he would not thus have forced My trembling heart, which your commands may break, But never bend.

Sys. Forbear thy lost complaints; Urge not a suit, which I can never grant. Behold the royal signet of the king, Therefore resolve to be Hephestion's wife, Par. No! since Lysimachus has won my heart, My body shall be ashes, e'er another's.

Sys. For sixty rolling years who ever stood The shock of state so unconcern'd as I? This, whom I thought to govern, being young, Heaven, as a plague to power, has rendered strong; Judge my distresses, and my temper prize; Who, though unfortunate, would still be wise. Lys. To let you know, that misery doth sway [Both kneel. An humbler fate than yours, see at your feet The lost Lysimachus: O mighty queen, I have but this to beg, impartial stand; And, since Hephestion serves by your permission, Disdain not me, who ask your royal leave To cast a throbbing heart before her feet.

Heph. A blessing, like possession of the prin


No services, not crowns, nor all the blood,
That circles in our bodies, can deserve:
Therefore I take all helps, much more the king's,
And what your majesty vouchsafed to give;
Your word is past, where all my hopes must hang.
Lys. There perish too-all words want sense
in love;

But love and I bring such a perfect passion,
So nobly pure, 'tis worthy of her eyes,
Which without blushing she may justly prize.

Heph. Such arrogance, should Alexander woo, Would lose him all the conquests he has won. Lys. Let not a conquest once be named by

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Heph. It will never be.

Lys. No, I will yet love on,

And hear from Alexander's mouth, in what
Hephestion merits more than I.

Sys. I grieve,

And fear the boldness, which your love inspires ;
But lest her sight should haste your enterprize,
'Tis just I take the object from your eyes.
[Exeunt Sys. and Par.
Lys. She's gone, and see, the day, as if her look
Had kindled it, is lost, now she is vanished.
Heph. A sudden gloominess and horror comes
About me.

Lys. Let's away to meet the king;

You know my suit.

Heph. Yonder Cassander comes,

He may inform us.

Lys. No, I would avoid him;

There's something in that busy face of his,
That shocks my nature.

Heph. Where and what you please. [Exeunt.


Enter CASSANder.

Thess. The haughty Polyperchon comes this


A mal-content, on whom I lately wrought,
That for a slight affront, at Susa given,
Bears Alexander most pernicious hate.

Cass. So, when I mocked the Persians, that
adored him,

He struck me in the face, and by the hair
He swung me to his guards to be chastised;
For which and for my father's weighty cause,
When I abandon what I have resolved,
May I again be beaten like a slave.
But lo, where Polyperchon comes! now fire him
With such complaints, that he may shoot to ruin.

Pol. Sure I have found those friends, dare se
cond me;

I hear fresh murmurs as I
pass along:
Yet, rather than put up, I'll do it alone.
Did not Pausanias, a youth, a stripling,

A beardless boy, swelled with inglorious wrong,
For a less cause his father Philip kill?
Peace then, full heart! move like a cloud about,

Cass. The morning rises black, the lowering sun, And when time ripens thee to break, O shed

As if the dreadful business he foreknew,

Drives heavily his sable chariot on :

The face of day now blushes scarlet deep,
As if it feared the stroke which I intend,

Like that of Jupiter-Lightning and thunder!
The lords above are angry, and talk big,
Or rather walk the mighty cirque like mourners
Clad in long clouds, the robes of thickest night,
And seem to groan for Alexander's fall.
'Tis as Cassander's soul could wish it were,
Which, whensoe'er it flies at lofty mischief,
Would startle fate, and make all heaven concerned.
A mad Chaldean, in the dead of night,
Came to my bed-side with a flaming torch;
And bellowing o'er me, like a spirit damned,
He cried, Well had it been for Babylon,
'If cursed Cassander never had been born.'
Enter THESSALUS, and PHILIP, with letters.
Thess. My lord Cassander.
Cass. Ha! who's there?
Phil. Your friends.

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Cass. Welcome dear Thessalus, and brother

Papers with what contents?

Phil. From Macedon

A trusty slave arrived――great Antipater
Writes, that your mother laboured with you long,
Your birth was slow, and slow is all your life.
Cass. He writes, dispatch the king-Craterus


Who in my room must govern Macedon;
Let him not live a day-he dies to-night;
And thus my father but forestalls my purpose:
Why am I slow then? If I rode on thunder,
I must a moment have to fall from heaven,
Ere I could blast the growth of this Colossus.

The stock of all thy poison on his head.

Cass. All nations bow their heads with homage


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I fawn, or fall, like a far eastern slave,
And lick his feet? Boys hoot me from the palace,
To haunt some cloister with my senseless walk,
When thus the uoble soul of Polyperchon
Lets go the aim of all his actions, honour.

Thess. The king shall slay me, cut me up alive,
Ply me with fire and scourges, rack me worse
Than once he did Philotas, e'er I bow.

Cass. Curse on thy tongue for mentioning Phi-

I had rather thou hadst Aristander been,
And to my soul's confusion raised up hell,
With all the furies brooding upon horrors,
Than brought Philotas' murder to remembrance.
Phil. I saw him racked, a sight so dismal sad
My eyes did ne'er behold.

Cass. So dismal! Peace!
It is unutterable; let me stand,
And think upon the tragedy you saw;
By Mars it comes! av! now the rack's set for
Bloody Craterus, his inveterate foe,
With pitiless Hephestion standing by:
Philotas, like an angel seized by fiends,

Is straight disrobed, a napkin ties his head,
His warlike arms with shameful cords are bound,
And every slave can now the valiant wound.

Pol. Now, by the soul of royal Philip fled,
I dare pronounce young Alexander, who
Would be a god, is cruel as a devil.

Cass. Oh, Polyperchon, Philip, Thessalus, Did not your eyes rain blood, your spirits burst, To see your noble fellow-soldier burn, Yet without trembling, or a tear, endure The torments of the damned? O barbarians, Could you stand by, and yet refuse to suffer? Ye saw him bruised, torn, to the bones made bare; His veins wide lanced, and the poor quivering flesh

With pincers from his manly bosom ript,

Till ye discovered the great heart lie panting. Pol. Why killed we not the king, to save Philotas?

Cass. Asses! fools! but asses will bray, and

fools be angry.

Why stood ye then like statues? there's the case,
The horror of the sight had turned ye marble.
So the pale Trojans, from their weeping walls,
Saw the dear body of the godlike Hector,
Bloody and soiled, dragged on the famous ground,
Yet senseless stood, nor with drawn weapons ran,
To save the great remains of that prodigious


Phil. Wretched Philotas! bloody Alexander! Thess. Soon after him the great Parmenio fell, Stabbed in his orchard by the tyrant's doom. But where's the need to mention public loss, When each receives particular disgrace?

Pol. Late I remember, to a banquet called, After Alcides' goblet swift had gone The giddy round, and wine had made me bold, Stirring the spirits up to talk with kings, I saw Craterus with Hephestion enter In Persian robes; to Alexander's health They largely drank; then, turning eastward, fell Flat on the pavement, and adored the sun. Straight to the king they sacred reverence gave, With solemn words, Ŏ son of thundering Jove, Young Ammon, live for ever;' then kissed the ground.

I laughed aloud, and, scoffing, asked them, why They kissed no harder ;- -but the king leapt up, And spurned me to the earth with this reply: 'Do thou !'-—whilst with his foot he prest my neck,

A surfeit, nay a fit of common sickness,
Brings this immortal to the gate of death.
Pol. Why should we more delay the glorious

Are your hearts firm?

Phil. Hell cannot be more bent To any ruin, that I to the king's. Thess. And I.

Pol. Behold my hand: and if you doubt my truth,

Tear up my breast, and lay my heart upon it. Cass. Join then, O worthy, hearty, noble hands, Fit instruments for such majestic souls! Remember Hermolaus, and be hushed.

Pol. Still as the bosom of the desert night, As fatal planets, or deep plotting fiends. Cass. To day he comes from Babylon to Susa, With proud Roxana.

Ah! who's that?

-look there!

Enter the Ghost of King Philip, shaking a truncheon at them, walks over the Stage.

Cass. Now by the gods, or furies, which I ne'er Believed,- -there's one of them arrived to shake


What art thou? glaring thing, speak! What, the spirit

Of our king Philip, or of Polyphemus?
Nay hurl thy truncheon, second it with thunder;
We will abideThessalus, saw you nothing?
Thess. Yes, and am more amazed than you
can be.

Phil. 'Tis said, that many prodigies were seen This morn, but none so horrible as this.

Pol. What can you fear? though the earth yawned so wide,

That all the labours of the deep were seen,
And Alexander stood on the other side,
I'd leap the burning ditch to give him death,
Or sink myself for ever: Pray, to the business.

Cass. As I was saying, this Roxana, whom,
To aggravate my hate to him, I love,
Meeting him as he came triumphant from
The Indies, kept him revelling at Susa;
But as I found, a deep repentance since
Turns his affections to the queen Statira,
To whom he swore (before he could espouse her)
That he would never bed Roxana more.
Pol. How did the Persian queen receive the


Of his revolt?

Thess. With grief incredible!

Till from my ears, my nose, and mouth, the blood
Gushed forth, and I lay foaming on the earth-Great Sysigambis wept, but the young queen

For which I wish this dagger in his heart.

Cass. There spoke the spirit of Calisthenes; Remember he's a man, his flesh as soft

And penetrable as a girl's: we have seen him wounded,

A stone has struck him, yet no thunderbolt :
A pebble felled this Jupiter along:
A sword has cut him, a javelin pierced him,
Water will drown him, fire burn him,

Fell dead among her maids;
Nor could their care

With richest cordials, for an hour or more,
Recover life.

Cass. Knowing how much she loved,

I hoped to turn her all into Medea;
For, when the first gust of her grief was past,
I entered, and with breath prepared did blow
The dying sparks into a towering flame,

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