Cly. Because unmann'd;
Because ye follow Alexander's steps.
Heav'ns! that a face should thus bewitch his soul,
And ruin all that's great and godlike in it.
Talk be my bane, yet the old man must talk;
Not so he lov'd when he at Issus fought,
And join'd in mighty combat with Darius,
Whom from his chariot, flaming all with
gems,
He hurl'd to earth, and catch'd th' imperial crown.
'Twas not the shaft of love perform'd that feat;
He knew no Cupids then. Now mark the change!
A brace of rival queens embroil the court;
And while each hand is thus employ'd in beauty,
Where has he room for glory?
Cly. Well said, young minion! I indeed forgot To whom I spoke-but Sysigambis comes. Now is your time, for with her comes an idol That claims your homage-I'll attend the king. [Exit.
Enter SYSIGAMBIS, with a Letter, and PARISATIS. Sys. Why will you wound me with your fond comAnd urge a suit that I can never grant? You know, my child, 'tis Alexander's will; He now demands you for his lov'd Hephestion. To disobey him might inflame his wrath, And plunge our house in ruins yet unknown.
Par. To sooth this god, and charm him into temper, Is there no victim, none but Parisatis?
Must I be doom'd to wretchedness and woe,
That others may enjoy the conqu'ror's smiles?
Oh! if you ever lov'd my royal father—
And sure you did, your gushing tears proclaim it—
If still his name be dear, have pity on me!
He would not thus have forc'd me to despair;
Indeed he would not. Had I begg'd him thus,
He would have heard me, ere my heart was broke.
Sys. When will my suff'rings end? O, when, ye gods?
For sixty rolling years my soul has stood
The dread vicissitudes of fate unmov'd;
I thought 'em your decrees, and therefore yielded.
But this last trial, as it springs from folly,
Exceeds my suff'rance, and I must complain.
Lys. When Sysigambis mourns; no common woe Can be the cause 'tis misery indeed.
Yet pardon, mighty queen, a wretched prince,
Who thus presumes to plead the cause of love.
Beyond my life, beyond the world [Kneeling] I prize
Fair Parisatis-Hear me, I conjure you!
As you have authoriz'd Hephestion's vows,
Reject not mine-grant me but equal leave
To serve the princess, and let love decide.
Heph. A blessing like the beauteous Parisatis
Whole years of service, and the world's wide empire,
With all the blood that circles in our veins,
Can never merit; therefore in my favour
I begg'd the king to interpose his int'rest;
Therefore I begg'd your majesty's assistance;
Your word is past, and all my hopes rest on't.
Lys. [Rising] Perish such hopes! for love's a generous
Which seeks the happiness of her we love,
Beyond the enjoyment of our own desires,
Nor kings nor parents here have aught to do.
Love owns no influence, and disdains controul;
Let 'em stand neuter-'tis all I ask.
Heph. Such arrogance, did Alexander woo,
Would lose him all the conquests he has won.
Lys. To talk of conquests well becomes the man
Whose life and sword are but his rival's gift.
Sys. It grieves me, brave Lysimachus, to find
My power fall short of my desires to serve you;
You know Hephestion first declar'd his love,
And 'tis as true, I promised him my aid.
Your glorious king, his mighty advocate,
Became himself an humble suppliant for him.
Forget her, prince, and triumph o'er your passion:
A conquest worthy of a soul like thine.
Lys. Forget her! madam: sooner shall the sun
Forget to shine, and tumble from his sphere.
Farewell, great queen-my honour now demands
That Alexander should himself explain
That wondrous merit which exalts his fav'rite,
And casts Lysimachus at such a distance.
Sys. In this wild transport of ungovern'd passion Too far I fear he will incense the king.
Is Alexander yet, my lord, arrived?
Heph. Madam, I know not; but Cassander comes; He may perhaps inform us.
Something there is, I know not why, that shocks me; Something my nature shrinks at, when I see him.
Cas. The face of day now blushes scarlet deep :
Now blackens into night. The low'ring sun,
As if the dreadful business he foreknew,
Drives heavily his sable chariot on.
How fierce it lightens! how it thunders round me!
All nature seems alarm'd for Alexander!
Why be it so. Her pangs proclaim my triumph.
My soul's first wishes are to startle fate,
And strike amazement through the host of heav'n.
A mad Chaldean with a flaming torch,
Came to my bed last night, and bellowing o'er me,
Well had it been, he cried, for Babylon,
If curst Cassander never had been born.
Enter THESSALUS, with a Packet.
How now, dear Thessalus, what packet's that?
Thes. From Macedon, a trusty slave just brought it.
Your father chides us for our cold delay;
He says Craterus, by the king's appointment,
Comes, in his room, to govern Macedon,
Which nothing but the tyrant's death can hinder.
Therefore he bids us boldly strike,
Or quit our purpose, and confess our fears.
Cas. Is not his fate resolved? this night he dies; And thus my father but forestalls my purpose. How am I slow then? if I rode on thunder,
Wing'd as the lightning, it would ask some moments, Ere I could blast the growth of this Colossus.
Thes. Mark where the haughty Polyperchon comes! Some new affront by Alexander given,
Swells in his heart, and stings him into madness.
Cas. Now, now's our time; he must, he shall be ours;
His haughty soul will kindle at his wrongs,
Blaze into rage, and glory in revenge.
Poly. Still as I pass, fresh murmurs fill my ears;
All talk of wrongs, and mutter their complaints.
Poor soul-less reptiles!-their revenge expires
In idle threats.-The fortitude of cowards!
Their province is to talk! 'tis mine to act,
And show this tyrant, when he dar'd to wrong me,
He wrong'd a man whose attribute is vengeance.
Cas. All nations bow their heads with servile bondage, And kiss the feet of this exalted man.
The name, the shout, the blast from every mouth
Is Alexander! Alexander stuns
The list'ning ear, and drowns the voice of heav'n.
The earth's commanders fawn like crouching spaniels:
And if this hunter of the barbarous world,
But wind himself a god, all echo him
With universal cry.
Poly. I fawn, or echo him,
Cassander, no! my soul disdains the thought!
Let eastern slaves or prostituted Greeks
Crouch at his feet, or tremble if he frown.
When Polyperchon can descend so low,
False to that honour, which through fields of death,
I still have courted, where the fight was fiercest,
Be scorn my portion, infamy my lot.
Thes. The king may doom me to a thousand tortures, Ply me with fire, and rack me like Philotas,
Ere I shall stoop to idolize his pride.
Cas. Not Aristander, had he rais'd all hell,
Could more have shock'd my soul, than thou hast done By the bare mention of Philotas' murder.
O Polyperchon! how shall I describe it?
Did not your eyes rain blood to see the hero?
Did not the spirits burst with smother'd vengeance,
To see thy noble fellow warrior tortur'd!
Yet, without groaning, or a tear, endure
The torments of the damn'd? O, death to think it!
We saw him bruis'd, we saw his bones laid bare;
His veins wide lanc'd, and the poor quiv'ring flesh
With fiery pincers from his bosom torn.
Till all beheld where the great heart lay panting.
Poly. Yet all like statues stood!-cold lifeless statues!
As if the sight had froze us into marble;
When, with collected rage, we should have flown
To instant vengeance on the ruthless cause,
And plung'd a thousand daggers in his heart.
Cas. At our last banquet, when the bowl bad gone The giddy round, and wine inflam'd my spirits; saw Craterus and Hephestion enter
In Persian robes; to Alexander's health
They largely drank; and falling at his feet,
With impious, adoration thus address'd
Their idol god: Hail, son of thund'ring Jove!
Hail, first of kings! young Ammon live for ever!
Then kiss'd the earth; on which I laugh'd aloud,
And scoffing, ask'd 'em, why they kiss'd no harder?
Whereon the tyrant, starting from his throne,
Spurn'd me to earth, and stamping on my neck,
Learn thou to kiss it, was his fierce reply;
While with his foot he press'd me to the earth,
Till I lay welt'ring in a foam of blood.
Poly. Thus when I mock'd the Persians that ador'd him,
He struck me on the face, swung me around,
And bid his guards chastise me like a slave.
But if he 'scape my vengeance, may he live,
Great as that God whose name he thus prophanes,
And like a slave may I again be beaten,
Scoff'd as I pass, and branded for a coward.
Cas. There spoke the spirit of Calisthenes:
Remember, he's a man, his flesh as penetrable
As any girl's, and wounded too as soon
To give him death no thunders are requir❜d.
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