Therefore Roxana may have leave to hope And thank Statira, that thou art alive: To tear the cruel quarry from its center. Kill the triumpher, and avenge my wrong, Bolted with thunder let him rush along, Pursue his spotted ghost, and shoot him as he flies! [Exit. Alex. O my fair star, I shall be shortly with thee; For I already feel the sad effects Ror. O take me to your arms, and hide my Of those most fatal imprecations. blushes! I love you spite of all your cruelties; I tremble to approach: yet here's my hold, Nor will I leave the sacred robe, for such And love shall grasp it with these dying hands. Alex. O that thou wert a man, that I might drive Thee round the world, and scatter thy contagion, As gods hurl mortal plagues, when they are angry! Ror. Do, drive me, hew me into smallest pieces, My dust shall be inspired with a new fondness; Still the love-motes shall play before your eyes, Where'er you go, however you despise. Aler. Away! there's not a glance that flies from thee, But, like a basilisk, comes winged with death. Ror. O speak not such harsh words, my royal master! Look not so dreadful on your kneeling servant; My knees are weary, and my force is spent: me. Aler. O thou hast touched my soul so tenderly, That I will raise thee, though thy hands are ruin. Rise, cruel woman, rise, and have a care, Ror. I go, I fly for ever from thy sight. That has revenge in store for perjured love, What means this deadly dew upon my forehead? My heart too heaves. Cass. It will anon be still The poison works. Pol. I'll see the wished effect Ere I remove, and gorge me with revenge. [Aside. [Aside. Enter PERDICCAS and LYSIMACHUS. Great Sysigambis, hearing Statira's death, Her last words gave the princess to the brave Åler. How! dead? Hephestion dead? alas the Unhappy youth!--But he sleeps happy, Will stretch my lids with vast, eternal tears- Aler. Fly, Meleager, hang him on a cross! But here lies my fate; Hephestion, Clytus, O when shall I be mad? Give order to Pound their bright armour into dust; away! Draw dry the Ganges, make the Indies poor; I find Cassander's plot grows full of death; S And the sad sisters sweat, so fast I urge them. The sieve brim full, and the swift stone stand still. What, does it work? Pol. Speak softly. Cass. Well. Pol. It does; I followed him, and saw him swiftly walk Pol. When they took him up, He sighed, and entered with a strange wild look, Embraced the princes round, and said he must Dispatch the business of the world in haste. Enter PHILIP and THESSALUS. Phil. Back, back, all scatter-With a dreadful shout I heard him cry, 'I am but a dead man!' Thess. The poison tears him with that height of horror, That I could pity him. Pol. Peacewhere shall we meet? Cass. On Saturn's field. Methinks I see the frighted deities, Ramming more bolts in their big-bellied clouds, And firing all the heavens to drown his noise. Now we should laugh—But go, disperse yourselves, While each soul here, that fills his noble vessel, Swells with the murder, works with ruin o'er; And from the dreadful deed this glory draws, We killed the greatest man, that ever was. SCENE II. Enter ALEXANDER and all his Attendants. Alex Search there, nay, probe me, search my wounded reins! Pull, draw it out! Lys. We have searched, but find no hurt. Alex. O I am shot, a forked burning arrow Sticks cross my shoulders: the sad venom flies, Like lightning, through my flesh, my blood, my marrow. Lys. This must be treason. Perd. Would I could but guess! Alex. Ha! what a change of torments I endure! A bolt of ice runs hissing through my bowels: 'Tis sure the arm of death: give me a chair; Cover me, for I-freeze, and my teeth chatter, And my knees knock together. Perd. Heaven bless the king! Alex. Ha! who talks of heaven? I am all hell; I burn, I burn again! The war grows wondrous hot; hey for the Tiger Bear me, Bucephalus, amongst the billows: O'tis a noble beast; I would not change him For the best horse the Sun has in his stable: For they are hot, their mangers full of coals, Their manes are flakes of lightning, curls of fire, And their red tails, like meteors, whisk about. Lys. Help all, Eumenes, help! I cannot hold him! Aler. Ha, ha, ha! I shall die with laughter. Parmenio, Clytus, dost thou see yon fellow, That ragged soldier, that poor tattered Greck? See how he puts to flight the gaudy Persians, With nothing but a rusty helmet on, through which The grizly bristles of his pushing beard Perd. How wild he talks! Lys. Yet warring in his wildness. Alex. Sound, sound, keep your ranks close; ay, now they come : O the brave din, the noble clank of arms! I see, I know him by the sparkling plumes, Ile tumbles! take him, snatch the imperial crown. Perd. Let's raise him softly, and bear him to his bed. Alex. Hold, the least motion gives me sudden My vital spirits are quite parched up, Shall set, it must be night with us for ever. Alex. Let me embrace you all before I die: Weep not, my dear companions; the good gods Shall send you, in my stead, a nobler prince, One that shall lead you forth with matchless con duct. Lys. To whom does your dread majesty be- | If, by unwearied toil, I have deserved queath The vast renown of thy adopted son, Lys. Eumenes, cover the fallen majesty; Even of the hinds, that watched it. Men and Shook all the dome; the doors around me clapt; beasts Were borne above the tops of trees, that grew It slipt from underneath the scaly herd: The iron wicket, that defends the vault, On the cold pavement down I fell entranced, Nor meant my words should reach your ears; but what I uttered was most true. Alex. A foolish dream, Bred from the fumes of indigested feasts And holy luxury. Ser. I know my duty: This goes no farther. Aler. Tis not fit it should, Nor would the times now bear it, were it true. All southern from yon hills the Roman camp Hangs o'er us black and threatening, like a storm Just breaking on our heads. Ser. Our faint Egyptians pray for Antony, But in their servile hearts they own Octavius. Myr. Why, then, does Antony dream out his hours, And tempts not fortune for a noble day, Seems not to press the siege. Alex. Oh, there's the wonder. Has not beheld the face of Cleopatra, To cure his mind of love. Ser. If he be vanquished, Or make his peace, Egypt is doomed to be Aler. Had I my wish, these tyrants of all na- Who lord it o'er mankind, should perish, perish, Ser. How stands the queen affected? She doats, Serapion, on this vanquished man, Whom, would she yet forsake, yet yield him up, Enter VENTIDIUS, talking aside with a gentleman of ANTONY'S. Ser. These Romans will o'erhear us. Alex. Oh, 'tis Ventidius, Our emperor's great lieutenant in the east, When Antony returned from Syria last, Alex. Too well. I saw him in Cilicia first, [They withdraw to a corner of the stage, and VENTIDIUS, with the other, comes forward to the front. Vent. Not see him, say you? I say I must, and will. Gent. He has commanded, On pain of death, none should approach his sence. pre |