Cly. Sure there is none about you; But here stands honest Clytus, whom the king Invited to his banquet.

Alex. Begone and sup with Philip, [Strikes him through. Parmenio, Attalus, Calisthenes; And let bold subjects learn, by thy sad fate, To tempt the patience of a man much above them.

Cly. The rage of wine is drowned in gushing blood:

O Alexander, I have been to blame ;
Hate me not after death, for I repent,
That so I urged your noblest, sweetest nature.
Alex. What's this I hear? say on, my dying
soldier.

Cly. I should have killed myself, had I but
lived

To be once sober-Now I fall with honour, My own hand would have brought foul death.O pardon! [Dies. Alex. Then I am lost; what has my vengeance done?

Who is it thou hast slain? Clytus; what was he?
The faithfullest subject, worthiest counsellor,
Who for saving thy life, when

Thou foughtst bare-headed at the river Granicus,
Has now a noble recompense for speaking rashly;
For a forgetfulness, which wine did work,
The poor, the honest Clytus thou hast slain.
Are these the laws of hospitality?

Thy friends will shun thee now, and stand at distance,

Nor dare to speak their minds, nor eat with thee,
Nor drink, lest by thy madness they die too.
Heph. Guards, take the body hence.
Alex. None dare to touch him,

For we must never part. Cruel Hephestion
And Lysimachus, that had the power,
And would not hold me!

Lys. Dear sir, we did.

Aler. I know it;

Ye held me like a beast, to let me go
With greater violence-Oh you have undone me!
Excuse it not; you, that could stop a lion,
Could not turn me: You should have drawn your
swords,

And barred my rage with their advancing points;
Made reason glitter in my dazzled eyes,

Till I had seen what ruin did attend me:
That had been noble, that had shewed a friend;
Clytus would so have done to save your lives.
Lys. When men shall hear how highly you
were urged-

Alex. No, you have let me stain my rising virtue,
Which else had ended brighter than the sun.
Death, hell, and furies! you have sunk my glory :
Oh, I am all a blot, which seas of tears,
And my heart's blood, can never wash away;
Yet 'tis but just I try, and on the point,
Still reeking, hurl my black polluted breast.
Heph. O sacred sir, that inust not be.
Eum. Forgive my pious hands.
Lys. And mine, that dare disarm my master.
Alex. Yes, cruel men, ye now can shew your

strength!

Here's not a slave but dares oppose my justice;
Yet I will render all endeavours vain,
That tend to save my life-Here I will lie[ Falls.
Close to his bleeding side, thus kissing him;
These pale dead lips, that have so oft advised me;
Thus bathing o'er his reverend face in tears;
Thus clasping his cold body in my arms,
Till death, like him, has made me stiff and horrid.
Heph. What shall we do?

Lys. I know not, my wounds bleed afresh With striving with him: Perdiccas, lend us your arm. [Eennt Perdiccas, Lysimachus. Heph. Call Aristander hither;

Or Meleager, let us force him from the body.

Cries without-Arm! Arm! Treason, Treason! Enter PERDICCAs bloody.

Per. Haste, all take arms! Hephestion, where's the king?

Heph. There, by old Clytus' side, whom he has

slain.

Per. Then misery on misery will fall, Like rolling billows, to advance the storm. Rise, sacred sir, and haste to aid the queen;. Roxana, filled with furious jealousy, Came with a guard of Zogdian slaves unmasked, And broke upon me with such sudden rage, That all are perished, who resistance made: I only with these wounds, through clashing spears, Have forced my way, to give you timely notice. Alex. What says Perdiccas? Is the queen in danger?

Per. She dies, unless you turn her fate, and

Stat. Perhaps at my request, And for a gift so noble as my life, Bestow a kiss.

Ror. A kiss! no more?

Stat. O gods!

What shall I say to work her to my end?
Fain I would see him-Yes, a little more-
Embrace you, and for ever be your friend.
Rox. O the provoking word! Your friend!
thou diest:

Your friend! What, must I bring you then together?

Adore your bed, and see you softly laid?
By all my pangs, and labours of my love,
This has thrown off all that was sweet and gentle.
Therefore-

Stat. Yet hold thy hand advanced in air;
I see my death is written in thy eyes.
Therefore wreak all the lust of vengeance on me,
Wash in my blood, and steep thee in my gore;
Feed like a vulture, tear my bleeding heart.
But, O Roxana! that there may appear
A glimpse of justice for thy cruelty,
A grain of goodness for a mass of evil,
Give me my death in Alexander's presence!
Ror. Not for the rule of heaven-Are you so

cunning?

And shall I die so tamely, thus defenceless?

weakness?

[Stabbing her.

O ye gods, will you not help my
Rox. They are afar off.
Stat. Alas! they are indeed.
Enter ALEXANDER, CASSANDER, POLYPERCHON,
Guards and Attendants.

Alex. Oh happy! Thou shalt reign the queen
of devils.

Ror. Do, strike, behold my bosom swells to meet thee;

'Tis full of thine, of veins that run ambition, And I can brave whatever fate you bring. Alex. Call our physicians! haste! I'll give an empire

To save her-Oh my soul, alas Statira! These wounds,-Oh gods, are these my promised joys!

Enter PHYSICIANS.

Stat. My cruel love, my weeping Alexander, Would I had died before you entered here! For now I ask my heart an hundred questions; What! must I lose my life, my lord, for ever?

Alex. Ha! villains, are they mortal?—what,
retire!

Raise your dashed spirits from the earth, and say,
Say she shall live, and I will make you kings.
Give me this one, this poor, this only life,
And I will pardon you for all the wounds,
Which your arts widen, all diseases, deaths,
Which your damned drugs throw through the
lingering world.

Rox. Rend not your temper; see a general

silence

Confirms the bloody pleasure, which I sought;
She dies.-

Alex. And darest thou, monster, think to escape?

Stat. Life's on the wing,-my love, my lord, Come to my arms, and take the last adieu. Here let me lie, and languish out my soul.

Alex. Answer me, father, wilt thou take her from me?

What, is the black, sad hour at last arrived,
That I must never clasp her body more?
Never more bask in her eye-shine again?
Nor view the loves, that played in those dear
beams,

And shot me with a thousand thousand smiles?
Stat. Farewel, my dear, my life, my most

loved lord,

I swear by Orosmades, 'tis more pleasure,
More satisfaction that I thus die yours,
Than to have lived another's-Grant me one
thing.

Alex. All, all, but speak that I may execute Before I follow thee.

Stat. Leave not the earth

Before Heaven calls you; spare Roxana's life. Twas love of you, that caused her give me death; And, O! sometimes, amidst your revels, think Of your poor queen, and ere the chearful bowl Salute your lips, crown it with one rich tear, And I am happy.

[Dies

Alex. Close not thy eyes;
Thou takest thy journey :-Tell the gods I'm
Things of import I have to speak before
coming,

To give them an account of life and death,
And many other hundred thousand policies,
That much concern the government of heaven-
O she is gone! the talking soul is mute!
She's hushed, no voice of musie now is heard!
The bower of beauty is more still than death;
The roses fade, and the melodious bird,

That waked their sweets, has left them now fo

Therefore Roxana may have leave to hope
You will at last be kind, for all my sufferings,
My torments, racks, for this last dreadful murder,
Which furious love of thee did bring upon me.
Aler. O thou vile creature! bear thee from
my sight,

And thank Statira, that thou art alive:

Else thou hadst perished; yes, I would have rent, With my just hands, that rock, that marble heart; I would have dived through seas of blood to find it,

To tear the cruel quarry from its center.

Kill the triumpher, and avenge my wrong,
In height of pomp, while he is warm and
young;

Bolted with thunder let him rush along,
And when in the last pangs of life he lies,
Grant I may stand to dart him with my eyes:
Nay, after death,

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

blushes!

I love you spite of all your cruelties;
There is so much divinity about you,

I tremble to approach: yet here's my hold,
Nor will I leave the sacred robe, for such
Is every thing, that touches that blest body:
I'll kiss it as the relic of a god,

And love shall grasp it with these dying hands. Aler. 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;
But take, dear sir, O take me into grace,
By the dear babe, the burden of my womb,
That weighs me down, when I would follow
faster!

My knees are weary, and my force is spent:
O'do not frown, but clear thy angry brow!
Your eyes will blast me, and your words are bolts,
That strike me dead; the little wretch I bear,
Leaps frighted at your wrath, and dies within

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,
O do not hurt that unborn innocence,
For whose dear sake I now forgive thee all.
But haste, begone! fly, fly from these sad eyes,
Fly with thy pardon, lest I call it back;
Though I forgive thee, I must hate thee ever.
Ror. I go, I fly for ever from thy sight.
My mortal injuries have turned my mind,
And I could curse myself for being kind.
If there be any majesty above,

That has revenge in store for perjured love,
Send, Heaven, the swiftest ruin on his head;
Strike the destroyer, lay the victor dead;
VOL. I.

Enter PERDICCAS and LYSIMACHUS.
Per. I beg your majesty will pardon me,
A fatal messenger;

Great Sysigambis, hearing Statira's death,
Is now no more;

Her last words gave the princess to the brave
Lysimachus: but that, which most will strike you,
Your dear Hephestion, having drank too largely
At your last feast, is of a surfeit dead.

Alex. How! dead? Hephestion dead? alas the
dear

Unhappy youth!-But he sleeps happy,
I must wake for ever:-This object, this,
This face of fatal beauty,

Will stretch my lids with vast, eternal tears-
Who had the care of poor Hephestion's life?
Lys. Philarda, the Arabian artist.

Alex. Fly, Meleager, hang him on a cross!
That for Hephestion-

But here lies my fate; Hephestion, Clytus,
All my victories for ever folded up:
In this dear body my banner's lost,
My standard's triumphs gone!

O when shall I be mad? Give order to
The army, that they break their shields, swords,

spears,

Pound their bright armour into dust; away!
Is there not cause to put the world in mourning?
Tear all your robes:-he dies, that is not naked
Down to the waste, all like the sons of sorrow.
Burn all the spires, that seem to kiss the sky;
Beat down the battlements of every city:
And for the monument of this loved creature,
Root up those bowers, and pave them all with
gold:

Draw dry the Ganges, make the Indies poor;
To build her tomb, no shrines nor altars spare,
But strip the shining gods to make it rare. [Erit.
Cass. Ha! whither now? follow him, Polyper-
chon.
Exit Pol

I find Cassander's plot grows full of death;
Murder is playing her great master-piece,

S

And the sad sisters sweat, so fast I urge them.
O how I hug myself for this revenge!
My fancy's great in mischief; for methinks
The night grows darker, and the labouring ghosts,
For fear that I should find new torments out,
Run o'er the old with most prodigious swiftness.
I see the fatal fruit betwixt the teeth,

The sieve brim full, and the swift stone stand still.
Enter POLYPERCHON.

What, does it work? Pol. Speak softly. Cass. Well.

Pol. It does;

I followed him, and saw him swiftly walk
Toward the palace; oftimes looking back,
With watry eyes, and calling out Statira.
He stumbled at the gate, and fell along;
Nor was he raised with ease by his attendants,
But seemed a greater load than ordinary,
As much more as the dead outweigh the living.
Cass. Said he nothing?

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 your-
selves,

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. Aler 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.

Ferd. 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!

Alex. Ha, ha, ha! I shall die with laughter.
Parmenio, Clytus, dost thou see yon fellow,
That ragged soldier, that poor tattered Greek?
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
Drive them like pikes-Ha, ha, ha!
Perd. How wild he talks!

Lys. Yet warring in his wildness.

Alex. Sound, sound, keep your ranks close; ay,

Perd. Let's raise him softly, and bear him to his bed:

Alex. Hold, the least motion gives me sudden
death;

My vital spirits are quite parched up,
And all my smoky entrails turned to ashes.

Lys. When you, the brightest star that ever shone,

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. Break not our hearts with such unkind expressions.

Perd. We will not part with you, nor change for Mars.

Alex, Perdiccas, take this ring,

And see me laid in the temple of Jupiter Am

mon.