Alex. Sound, sound, that all the universe may hear. [A loud Flourish of Trumpets. Oh, for the voice of Jove! the world should know The kindness of my people-Rise! oh, rise! My hands, my arms, my heart, are ever yours. Clyt. I did not kiss the earth, nor must your hand I am unworthy, sir. Alex. I know thou art: Thou enviest the great honour of thy master. Heph. A chief so great, so fortunately brave, The radiant sun, since first his beams gave light, Lys. Such was not Cyrus, or the famed Alcides, Alex. Oh, you flatter me! you flatter me ! Clyt. They do indeed, and yet you love them far't, But hate old Clytus for his hardy virtue. Come, shall I speak a man with equal bravery, Alex. Instruct me, sir: I should be glad to learn. war! The labour'd battle sweat, and conquest bled. Than e'er the lying priests of Ammon told you? Alex. Proud spite, and burning envy, by the gods! Is then my glory come to this at last, To conquer women! Nay, he said the stoutest, I was a woman too at Oxydrace, When, planting on the walls a scaling ladder, Lys. Dread sir, the old man knows not what he says. Alex. Was I woman, when, like Mercury, I leaped the walls, and flew amidst the foe. All over in the blood of those bold hunters; And hurl'd them back with most unconquer'd fury, You saw that I had burst the gates asunder. Alex. Oh, that thou wert but young again and vigorous, That I might strike thee prostrate to the earth, Clyt. I know the reason why you use me thus: I sav'd you from the sword of bold Rhesaces, Else had your godship slumber'd in the dust, And most ungratefully you hate me for it. Alex. Hence from the banquet: thus far I forgive thee. Clyt. First try (for none can want forgiveness more) To have your own bold blasphemies forgiven, Philotas' murder Alex. Ha! what said the traitor? Heph. Clytus, withdraw; Eumenes, force him hence: Clyt. No, let him send me, if I must be gone, To great Parmenio, and his slaughtered sons. Heph. Hold, mighty, sir! Alex. Sirrah! off, Lest I at once strike through his heart and thine. [Stabs him. And let bold subjects learn by thy example Not to provoke the patience of their prince. Clyt. The rage of wine is drowned in gushing blood. Oh, Alexander! I have been to blame : Hate me not after death; for I repent That I so far have urged your noble nature. Alex. What's this I hear! Say on, my dying soldier. Clyt. I should have killed myself had I but lived To be once sober-Now I fall with honour; My own hands would have brought foul death. Oh, pardon ! [Dies. Alex. Then I am lost: what has my vengeance done! E Who is it thou hast slain? Clytus! What was he ? part. Cruel Hephestion and Lysimachus, That had the power, yet would not hold me! Oh! Lys. Dear sir, we did. Alex. I know ye did; yet held me Like a wild beast, to let me go again With greater violence.-Oh, ye have undone me! Excuse it not; you, that could stop a lion, Could not turn me! ye should have drawn your swords, And barred my rage with their advancing points, Till I had seen the precipice before me. That had been noble, that had shown the friend; Lys. When men shall hear how highly you were urged Alex. No; you have let me stain my rising glory, And my heart's blood can never wash away! Heph. Oh, sacred, sir-it shall not-must not be. Lys. Forgive, dread sir-forgive my pious hands, That dare in duty to disarm my master. Alex. Yes, cruel men! ye now can show your strength: Here's not a slave but dares oppose my justice, Yet none had courage to prevent this murder: That tend to save my life-here will I lie, [Falls on CLYTUS. Close to my murdered soldier's bleeding side; Thus clasping his cold body in my arms, Till death like his has closed my eyes for ever! Enter PERDICCAS. Per. Treason! foul treason! Hephestion, where's the king? Heph. There, by old Clytus' side, whom he hatn slain. Per. Rise, sacred sir: and haste to save the queen. hoxana, filled with furious jealousy, Came with a guard unmarked; she gain'd the bower, And broke upon me with such sudden fury Alex. What says Perdiccas? is the queen in danger? Per. Haste, sir, to your Statira, or she dies. Alex. Thus from the grave I rise to save her life: All draw your swords, on wings of lightning move, Young Ammon leads you, and the cause is love. When I rush on, sure none will dare to stay; 'Tis beauty calls, and glory leads the way. [Exeunt. |