_Enter_ Queen, Cleomena _in a Night-Gown_, Semiris.
A Table with Pen and Ink.
_Cleo_. Madam, I confess my self unworthy of your Tenderness.
_Qu_. Ah, _Cleomena_! you value my Repose at too cheap a Rate,
When you expose a Life so dear to me
To so much Danger, as to fight _Thersander_.
_Cleo_. I am not the first Person of my Sex
Has drawn a Sword upon an Enemy;
Do you not say he is my Father’s Murderer?
And does he not deprive me of that Crown,
You say the Gods have destin’d me to wear?
_Qu_. ‘Tis true, he’s Son to him that kill’d thy Father;
But bating that, he has committed nothing
But what wou’d rather cause esteem than hate.
_Cleo_. Pardon me, Madam, if I am forc’d to say,
My Sentiments cannot correspond with yours.
_Qu_. What think you of a Husband in this Prince?
_Cleo_. How, Madam, marry _Thersander_!
_Qu_. The King has generously offered it;
My Council do approve it, and the Army
Cannot contain their Joy for the blest News.
_Cleo_. Gods! let the Council and the Army perish,
E’er I lose one single Moment of my Satisfaction;
Is this the Hate which with my Milk you made me suck
For all that Race? is this th’ Effect of my fierce Education?
_Qu_. All things must be preferr’d to th’ Publick Good,
When join’d with my Commands.
_Cleo_. What you command, I dare not disobey:
But, Madam, I beseech you do not claim
That cruel Duty here.
_Qu_. You’ll find it fit to change that peevish Humour,
And I will leave you to consider of it.
[_Exit_.
_Cleo_. Gods! marry me, marry me to _Thersander_!
No, not whilst this--remains in my Possession;
[_Pulls out a dagger_.
--I must confess it is a generous Offer;
How came it in their Souls?
_Sem_. Madam, perhaps Love has inspir’d it.
_Cleo_. Hah, Love--that Miracle may be;
When I reflect upon the Prince’s words,
When he had vanquish’d me--I do not doubt it;
Then he confess’d he had a Passion for me;
I wonder at the sudden Birth of it--
_Sem_. Madam, your Eyes make Captives at first sight.
_Cleo_. Oh my dear Eyes, how shall I love ye now,
For wounding more than my dull Sword could do?
’.was Anger and Revenge that gave ye Charms,
Only to help the weakness of my Arms;
And when my Woman’s Courage feeble grew,
My Heart did kindly send its Aids to you.
And thou, _Thersander_, surely canst not blame
My Cruelty, who do allow thy Flame:
Love on, love on; and if thou dost despise
All other ways, I’ll kill thee with my Eyes.
_She sits down, and writes_. _Enter_ a Page.
_Page_. Madam, there is without an Officer
Who bad me tell your Highness that he waits.
_Cleo_. Admit him--and, Page, give you this Letter to the Queen.
_Sem_. Madam, it is _Vallentio_ whom you sent for.
_Enter_ Vallentio.
_Cleo_. _Vallentio_, I believe thee brave and honest.
_Val_. Madam, the last I dare affirm.
_Cleo_. Tell me, _Vallentio_, didst thou ever love?
_Val_. Madam, your Interest, my Arms, and a brave Enemy.
_Cleo_. But didst thou never feel a softer Passion?
_Val_. Madam, I own, though with a Blush I do so,
I’ve felt the Power of two fair Eyes;
And I have Wounds that yet would bleed afresh,
Should but the cruel Murderess appear.
_Cleo_. Then thou art fit to hear a Secret from me;
--But first, _Vallentio_ tell me who I am.
_Val_. My Princess, Madam, and my General;
And one, who from your Power of Beauty holds
No less Dominion o’er th’ adoring World,
Than from the Greatness you were born to.
_Cleo_. And you’re contented I should be your Queen?
_Val_. Madam, I am--_Pimante_ has been prating. [_Aside_.
_Cleo_. The Army too are of your mind.
_Val_. I cannot answer for the Army, Madam.
_Cleo_. But--what think you of _Orsames_?
_Val_. Madam, I think he merits to be King
In any other World but where you reign.
_Cleo_. And what if I would have him King of this?
_Val_. Why then he shall be King, if you would have it so.
_Cleo_. Yes, I would have it, by my self I would;
This is the time to let the Monarch know
The Glories he was born to;
Nor can I die in Peace till he be crown’d. [_Aside_.
I’ll have this Nation happy in a Prince,
A Prince they long in silence have bemoan’d,
Which every slight occasion breaks out loud,
And soon will raise them up to a Rebellion,
The common People’s God on Holy-days.
--And this, _Vallentio_, I have often observ’d;
And ‘tis an Act too humble for my Soul,
To court my self into security.
_Sem_. Madam, the Gods do disapprove his Reign,
Which they not only say shall be but short,
But Bloody and Tyrannick.
_Cleo_. I will expound that Oracle,
Which Priests unridling make more intricate:
They said that he should reign, and so he did,
Which lasted not above a pair of Hours.
But I my self will be his Oracle now,
And speak his kinder Fate,
And I will have no other Priest but thee, [_To_ Vallentio.
Who shall unfold the Mystery in plain terms.
_Val_. Madam, the City and the Army are, by this Defeat,
Enough inclin’d to hear that Reason.
_Cleo_. _Geron_ already has Instructions what to do,
And you need none, wanting no Resolution.
_Val_. If I miscarry, Madam, I’ll be condemn’d,
Never to look my Foe i’th’ Face again.
_Cleo_. Haste, and be prosperous--
[_Exit_. Val.
_Semiris_, are those Garments ready I spoke for?
_Sem_. Madam, they’re here--but now what will you do?
_Cleo_. Now, I will die--and now thou know’st my Will.
_Sem_. Ah, Madam, ‘tis too much you let me know,
Denying me t’ attend you where you go,
With such a Guide I cannot err.
_Cleo_. Alone I’ll go, the Journey is not far
In passing; though I miss the aids of Day,
Yet my _Clemanthis_ lights me on my way.
Why dost thou weep? indeed thou art unkind.
_Sem_. I weep because you’d leave me here behind;
Doubting my Love, I beg you wou’d permit
That I might give you the last proof of it.
I in your last adventure was too slow,
And will not be deny’d my Duty now.
_Cleo_. Thou show’st a Soul so generous and free,
That I’m contented thou shou’dst follow me;
Come, dry thy Eyes, such helps we do not need;
To ease our Griefs, we must not weep but bleed.
[_Exeunt_.