The British Drama: Tragedies. 2 v

I would be killed, and by you.
Jun. Mercy on me!

What ails this man? Petillius!

Pet. Pray you dispatch me;

You are not safe, whilst I live: I am dangerous, Troubled extremely, even to mischief, Junius, An enemy to all good men. Fear not; 'tis justice;

I shall kill you else.

Jun. Tell me but the cause,

And I will do it.

Jun. And then I'll kill you,
Because you
shall die miserable. Know, sir,
The regiment was given me, but 'till time
Called you to do some worthy deed, might stop
The peoples' ill thoughts of you for lord Penius,
I mean his death. How soon this time's come to
you,

And hasted by Suetonius! Go, says he,
Junius and Decius, and go thou, Petillius,
(Distinctly, thou, Petillius) and draw up,
To take stout Caratach; there's the deed pur-

posed,

A deed to take off all faults, of all natures:
And thou, Petillius, mark it! there's the honour;
And that done, all made even.

Pet. Stay!

Jun. No, I'll kill you.

He knew thee absolute, and full in soldier,
Daring beyond all dangers, found thee out
According to the boldness of thy spirit,
A subject, such a subject

I will live now.

Jun. By no means wooed thy worth,

Held thee by the chin up, as thou sunkest, and

shewed thee

How honour held her arms out. Come, make

ready,

Since you will die an ass.

Pet. Thou wilt not kill me?

Jun. By heaven, but I will, sir. I'll have no man dangerous

Live to destroy me afterward. Besides, you have

gotten

Honour enough; let young men rise now. Nay,
I do perceive too by the general, (which is
One main cause you shall die, however he car-
ry it)

Such a strong doting on you, that I fear
You shall command in chief; how are we paid
then?

Come, if you'll pray, dispatch it.
Pet. Is there no way?
Jun. Not any way to live.
Pet. I will do any thing,

Redeem myself at any price: Good Junius,
Let me but die upon the rock, but offer
My life up like a soldier!

Jun. You will seek then

To out-do every man.

Pet. Believe it, Junius,

You shall go stroke by stroke with me.
Jun. You'll leave off too,
As you are noble, and a soldier,
For ever these mad fancies?

Pet. Dare you trust me?
By all that is good and honest-
Jun. There's your sword then;
And now, come on, a new man:
thee!

Virtue guide

[Exeunt.

Enter CARATACH and HENGO, on the rock. Car. Courage, my boy! I have found meat:

Hengo. Methinks, sir,

They ring a strange sad knell, a preparation
To some near funeral of state: Nay, weep not,
Mine own sweet uncle! you will kill me sooner.
Cur. Oh, my poor chicken!
Hengo. Fy! faint-hearted, uncle?

Come, tie me in your belt, and let me down.
Cur. I'll go myself, boy.

Hengo. No, as you love me, uncle!

I will not eat it, if I do not fetch it;
The danger only I desire; pray tie me.

Car. I will, and all my care hang over thee!
Come, child,

My valiant child!

Hengo. Let me down apace, uncle,

And you shall see how like a daw I'll whip it
From all their policies; for 'tis most certain
A Roman train: And you must hold me sure too.
You'll spoil all else. When I have brought it, uncle,

We'll be as merry

Car. Go, in the name of Heaven, boy!
Hengo. Quick, quick, quick, uncle! I have it. Oh!
Car. What ail'st thou! [Judas shoots Hengo.
Hengo. Oh, my best uncle, I am slain!
Car. I see you, [Car. kills Judas with a stone.
And heaven direct my hand-Destruction
Go with thy coward soul! How dost thou boy?
Oh, villain, pocky villain!

Hengo. Oh, uncle, uncle,

Oh, how it pricks me-am I preserved for this?—
Extremely pricks me!

Car. Coward, rascal coward!
Dogs eat thy flesh!

Hengo. Oh, I bleed hard; I faint too; out
upon it,

How sick I am! The lean rogue, uncle!
Car. Look, boy;

I have laid him sure enough.

Hengo. Have you knocked his brains out?
Car. I warrant thee for stirring more: Cheer
up, child.

Hengo. Hold my sides hard; stop, stop; oh,
wretched fortune,

Must we part thus? Still I grow sicker, uncle.
Car. Heaven look upon this noble child!
Hengo. I once hoped

I should have lived to have met these bloody

Romans

At my sword's point, to have revenged my father, To have beaten them. Oh, hold me hard! But, uncle

Car. Thou shalt live still, I hope, boy. Shall I draw it?

Hengo. You draw away my soul, then; I
would live

A little longer, (spare me, Heavens!) but only
To thank you for your tender love! Good uncle,
Good noble uncle, weep not!

Car. Oh, my chicken,

My dear boy, what shall I lose?

Hengo. Why, a child,

To be my friend!

Car. Oh, Romans, see what here is!
Had this boy lived-

Suet. For fame's sake, for thy sword's sake,
As thou desirest to build thy virtues greater!
By all that's excellent in man, and honest-
Car. I do believe. Ye've made me a brave foe;
Make me a noble friend, and from your goodness,

That must have died however; had this escaped me, Give this boy honourable earth to lie in!
VOL. I.

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.

SCENE I.

ACT I.

Enter EPHESTION, LYSIMACHUS, fighting; CLYTUS parting them.

Cly. WHAT, are you madmen? ha!-Put up,

I say
Then, mischief's in the bosom of you both.
Lys. I have his sword.

Cly. But must not have his life.

Lys. Must not, old Clytus?

Cly. Mad Lysimachus, you must not.

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

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

Heph. In his heart.

Cly. Well said.

And what's the noble cause, that makes this You did; his very name but mentioned brings

madness?

What big ambition blows this dangerous fire?
A Cupid's puff, is it not, woman's breath?
By all your triumphs in the heat of youth,
When towns were sacked, and beauties prostrate
lay,

When my blood boiled, and nature worked me high,

Clytus ne'er bowed his body to such shame :
The brave will scorn the cobweb arts- -The

souls

Of all that whining, smiling, cozening sex,
Weigh not one thought of any man of war.

Lys. I confess our vengeance was ill-timed. Cly. Death! I had rather this right arm were lost,

To which I owe my glory, than our king Should know your fault—what, on this famous day!

Heph. Ï 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
crown;

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 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

cess,

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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