Act 4 — [Scene III.][4214]

Amy. Our daughter is not near? Arm. She is retir’d, sir, Into her gallery. Amy. Where ’s the prince our cousin? Pro. New walk’d into the grove, my lord. Amy. All leave us Except Armostes, and you, Crotolon; We would be private. Pro. Health unto your majesty!5 Exeunt Prophilus, Hemophil, and Groneas. Amy. What! Tecnicus is gone? Arm. He is to Delphos; And to your royal hands presents this box. Amy. Unseal it, good Armostes; therein lie The secrets of the oracle; out with it: [Armostes takes out the scroll.] Apollo live our patron! Read, Armostes.10 Arm. [reads.] The plot in which the vine takes root Begins to dry from head to foot; The stock soon withering, want of sap Doth cause to quail the budding grape; But from the neighbouring elm a dew15 Shall drop, and feed the plot anew. Amy. That is the oracle: what exposition Makes the philosopher? Arm. This brief one only. [Reads.] The plot is Sparta, the dri’d vine the king; The quailing grape his daughter; but the thing20 Of most importance, not to be reveal’d, Is a near prince, the elm: the rest conceal’d. Tecnicus. Amy. Enough; although the opening of this riddle Be but itself a riddle, yet we construe How near our labouring age draws to a rest.25 But must Calantha quail too? that young grape Untimely budded! I could mourn for her; Her tenderness hath yet deserv’d no rigour So to be crost by fate. Arm. You misapply, sir,— With favour let me speak it,—what Apollo30 Hath clouded in hid sense. I here conjecture Her marriage with some neighb’ring prince, the dew Of which befriending elm shall ever strengthen Your subjects with a sovereignty of power. Crot. Besides, most gracious lord, the pith of oracles35 Is to be then digested when th’ events Expound their truth, not brought as soon to light As utter’d. Truth is child of Time; and herein I find no scruple, rather cause of comfort, With unity of kingdoms. Amy. May it prove so,40 For weal of this dear nation!—Where is Ithocles?— Armostes, Crotolon, when this wither’d vine Of my frail carcass, on the funeral pile Is fir’d into its ashes, let that young man Be hedg’d about still with your cares and loves.45 Much owe I to his worth, much to his service.— Let such as wait come in now. Arm. All attend here!

Cal. Dear sir! king! father! Ith. O my royal master! Amy. Cleave not my heart, sweet twins of my life’s solace, With your forejudging fears; there is no physic50 So cunningly restorative to cherish The fall of age, or call back youth and vigour, As your consents in duty. I will shake off This languishing disease of time, to quicken Fresh pleasures in these drooping hours of sadness.55 Is fair Euphranea married yet to Prophilus? Crot. This morning, gracious lord. Org. This very morning; Which, with your highness’ leave, you may observe too, Our sister looks, methinks, mirthful and sprightly. As if her chaster fancy could already60 Expound the riddle of her gain in losing A trifle maids know only that they know not. Pish! prithee, blush not; ’tis but honest change Of fashion in the garment, loose for strait, And so the modest maid is made a wife.65 Shrewd business—is’t not, sister? Euph. You are pleasant. Amy. We thank thee, Orgilus; this mirth becomes thee. But wherefore sits the court in such a silence? A wedding without revels is not seemly. Cal. Your late indisposition, sir, forbade it.70 Amy. Be it thy charge, Calantha, to set forward The bridal sports, to which I will be present; If not, at least consenting.—Mine own Ithocles, I have done little for thee yet. Ith. Y’ have built me To the full height I stand in. Cal. [Aside.] Now or never!—75 May I propose a suit? Amy. Demand, and have it. Cal. Pray, sir, give me this young man, and no further Account him yours than he deserves in all things To be thought worth mine: I will esteem him According to his merit. Amy. Still thou ’rt my daughter,80 Still grow’st upon my heart.—[To Ithocles.] Give me thine hand;— Calantha, take thine own: in noble actions Thou ’lt find him firm and absolute.—I would not Have parted with thee, Ithocles, to any But to a mistress who is all what I am.85 Ith. A change, great king, most wisht for, ’cause the same. Cal. [Aside to Ithocles.] Th’ art mine. Have I now kept my word? Ith. [Aside to Calantha.] Divinely. Org. Rich fortunes guard, [the][4215] favour of a princess Rock thee, brave man, in ever-crowned plenty! Y’ are minion of the time; be thankful for it.—90 [Aside.] Ho! here’s a swing in destiny—apparent! The youth is up on tiptoe, yet may stumble. Amy. On to your recreations.—Now convey me Unto my bed-chamber: none on his forehead Wear a distempered look. All. The gods preserve ye!95 Cal. [Aside to Ithocles.] Sweet, be not from my sight. Ith. [Aside to Calantha.] My whole felicity! Exeunt carrying out the king. Orgilus stays Ithocles. Org. Shall I be bold, my lord? Ith. Thou canst not, Orgilus, Call me thine own; for Prophilus must henceforth Be all thy sister’s: friendship, though it cease not100 In marriage, yet is oft at less command Than when a single freedom can dispose it. Org. Most right, my most good lord, my most great lord, My gracious princely lord, I might add, royal. Ith. Royal! A subject royal? Org. Why not, pray, sir?105 The sovereignty of kingdoms in their nonage Stoop’d to desert, not birth; there ’s as much merit In clearness of affection as in puddle Of generation: you have conquer’d love Even in the loveliest; if I greatly err not,110 The son of Venus hath bequeath’d his quiver To Ithocles his manage,[4216] by whose arrows Calantha’s breast is open’d. Ith. Can ’t be possible? Org. I was myself a piece of suitor once, And forward in preferment too; so forward115 That, speaking truth, I may without offence, sir, Presume to whisper that my hopes, and—hark ye— My certainty of marriage stood assured With as firm footing—by your leave—as any’s Now at this very instant—but— Ith. ’T is granted:120 And for a league of privacy between us, Read o’er my bosom and partake a secret; The princess is contracted mine. Org. Still, why not? I now applaud her wisdom: when your kingdom Stands seated in your will, secure and settled,125 I dare pronounce you will be a just monarch; Greece must admire and tremble. Ith. Then the sweetness Of so imparadis’d a comfort, Orgilus! It is to banquet with the gods. Org. The glory Of numerous children, potency of nobles,130 Bent knees, hearts pav’d to tread on! Ith. With a friendship So dear, so fast as thine. Org. I am unfitting For office; but for service— Ith. We ’ll distinguish Our fortunes merely in the title; partners In all respects else but the bed. Org. The bed!135 Forfend it Jove’s own jealousy!—till lastly We slip down in the common earth together, And there our beds are equal; save some monument To show this was the king, and this the subject.— Soft sad music. List, what sad sounds are these,—extremely sad ones?140 Ith. Sure, from Penthea’s lodgings. Org. Hark! a voice too.

A Song [within]. O, no more, no more, too late Sighs are spent; the burning tapers Of a life as chaste as fate, Pure as are unwritten papers,145 Are burnt out: no heat, no light Now remains; ’t is ever night. Love is dead; let lovers’ eyes, Lock’d in endless dreams, Th’ extremes of all extremes,150 Ope no more, for now Love dies, Now Love dies,—implying Love’s martyrs must be ever, ever dying.

Ith. O, my misgiving heart! Org. A horrid stillness Succeeds this deathful air; let ’s know the reason:155 Tread softly; there is mystery in mourning. Exeunt.

1 Ser. [Aside to Orgilus.] ’T is done; that on her right hand. Org. Good: begone. [Exeunt Servants.] Ith. Soft peace enrich this room! Org. How fares the Lady? Phil. Dead! Chris. Dead! Phil. Starv’d! Chris. Starv’d! Ith. Me miserable! Org. Tell us How parted she from life. Phil. She call’d for music, And begg’d some gentle voice to tune a farewell5 To life and griefs: Christalla touch’d the lute; I wept the funeral song. Chris. Which scarce was ended But her last breath seal’d up these hollow sounds, “O, cruel Ithocles and injur’d Orgilus!” So down she drew her veil, so died. Ith. So died!10 Org. Up! you are messengers of death; go from us; Here ’s woe enough to court without a prompter: Away: and—hark ye—till you see us next, No syllable that she is dead.—Away, Keep a smooth brow. Exeunt Christalla and Philema. My lord,— Ith. Mine only sister!15 Another is not left me. Org. Take that chair; I ’ll seat me here in this: between us sits The object of our sorrows; some few tears We ’ll part among us: I perhaps can mix One lamentable story to prepare ’em.—20 There, there; sit there, my lord. Ith. Yes, as you please. Ithocles sits down, and is catcht in the engine. What means this treachery? Org. Caught! you are caught, Young master; ’t is thy throne of coronation, Thou fool of greatness! See, I take this veil off; Survey a beauty wither’d by the flames25 Of an insulting Phaëton, her brother. Ith. Thou mean’st to kill me basely? Org. I foreknew The last act of her life, and train’d thee hither To sacrifice a tyrant to a turtle. You dreamt of kingdoms, did ye? How to bosom30 The delicacies of a youngling princess; How with this nod to grace that subtle courtier, How with that frown to make this noble tremble, And so forth; whiles Penthea’s groans and tortures, Her agonies, her miseries, afflictions,35 Ne’er toucht upon your thought: as for my injuries, Alas, they were beneath your royal pity; But yet they liv’d, thou proud man, to confound thee. Behold thy fate; this steel! [Draws a dagger.] Ith. Strike home! A courage As keen as thy revenge shall give it welcome: But prithee faint not; if the wound close up,41 Tent[4219] it with double force, and search it deeply. Thou look’st that I should whine and beg compassion, As loth to leave the vainness of my glories. A statelier resolution arms my confidence,45 To cozen thee of honour; neither could I With equal trial of unequal fortune By hazard of a duel; ’t were a bravery Too mighty for a slave intending murder. On to the execution, and inherit50 A conflict with thy horrors. Org. By Apollo, Thou talk’st a goodly language! for requital I will report thee to thy mistress richly. And take this peace along: some few short minutes Determin’d, my resolves shall quickly follow55 Thy wrathful ghost; then, if we tug for mastery, Penthea’s sacred eyes shall lend new courage. Give me thy hand: be healthful in thy parting From lost mortality! thus, thus I free it. Kills him. Ith. Yet, yet, I scorn to shrink. Org. Keep up thy spirit:60 I will be gentle even in blood; to linger Pain, which I strive to cure, were to be cruel. [Stabs him again.] Ith. Nimble in vengeance, I forgive thee. Follow Safety, with best success: O, may it prosper!— Penthea, by thy side thy brother bleeds;65 The earnest of his wrongs to thy forc’d faith. Thoughts of ambition, or delicious banquet With beauty, youth, and love, together perish In my last breath, which on the sacred altar Of a long-look’d-for peace—now—moves—to heaven.70 Dies. Org. Farewell, fair spring of manhood! Henceforth welcome Best expectation of a noble suff’rance. I ’ll lock the bodies safe, till what must follow Shall be approv’d.—Sweet twins, shine stars for ever!— In vain they build their hopes whose life is shame:75 No monument lasts but a happy name. Exit.