SCENE V.

Changes to the Wood.

  Discovers Ther. and Amin. among the Trees, changing
   Clothes; after which they come forth.

Ther. So, now thou dost appear so like Clemanthis,
That not a Dacian but will be mistaken in thee.

Amin. My Lord, I know not how I may appear,
But I am ignorant how I am to act.

Ther. Remain within the Covert of this Wood,
Until the Sign be given for the Combat,
And then appear upon the Place appointed,
Where I will meet and fight with thee;
But so I’ll order all the Blows I give,
They shall not wound nor hurt thee,
For still remember I must be the Victor.

Amin. I will endeavour to perform it so, [Noise. That none shall know the Fallacy.

Ther. Be gone, I hear a Noise; farewel, dear Amintas,
Remember that you act Clemanthis well. [Ex. Ther.

Enter some Fellows in Clokes.

1 Fel. That’s he that goes into the Wood, I know him by his Plume; are ye all ready?

2 Fel. Yes, for a greater Murder than the killing of one single Man; and here’s a Place as fit as we could wish; shall we set upon him altogether?

1 Fel. Ay, ay,
Neatness in this Affair is not required: kill him, and Artabazes desires no more.

[The Fellows go behind the Trees, they fight, Amintas falls.

Enter Ismenes.

Ism. Into this Wood he went, as if he knew my Business,
Here we unseen may end the Difference — [Noise within. — Hark — what Noise of fighting’s that? Perhaps my Aid’s requir’d. [Exit.

Ism. goes in,
Scene draws open, discovers Amintas lying as dead all bloody,
Pimante peeping;
Ism. re-enters.

Ism. It is Clemanthis, and this barbarous Deed Is done by Artabazes. [Exit.

Enter Pimante.

Pim. Had ever Cavalier such damn’d Luck? I have heard it disputed, that this same Danger was to be courted by the Brave and Bold; but I, who took the best Care I could whilst the Fight lasted to secure my self by this Retreat, find my self even here surrounded with it; and poor Clemanthis, who, I’ll warrant, came too with my Design, has met here what he endeavour’d to shun: Yonder’s Ismenes too — well, we are all but Men.

Ism. Here’s yet some Breath remaining; oh,
Pimante, lend thy Assistance. — Clemanthis, if thou yet hast so much Sense,
Inform us how thou cam’st thus wounded?

Amin. Know,
Sir,
Thersander — Prince of Scythia — Thersander — Prince of Scythia. [Faints.

Pim. Alas, he’s dead,
Sir, trouble him no further.

Ism. The Prince of Scythia do this!

Pim. Ay, ay, this mighty Prince fearing to encounter a single Man, has set a dozen to kill him;
Mercy upon us, ’twas a bloody Fight: but,
Sir, what shall we do with the Body?

Ism. If I could command thee any thing it should be Silence,
Till I have met Thersander in his Room. [Ism. exit.

Pim. You should command me, though I was never good at Secrets.

Enter Cleomena,
Semiris.

Cleo. Let the Coach wait at the Entrance of the Wood: I find I am a perfect Woman now,
And have my Fears, and fits of Cowardice.

Sem. Madam, will you not see the Combat then?

Cleo. I dare not, something here assures me Clemanthis will be conquer’d.

Pim. Ha! the Princess here? on my Conscience there was never Mischief but a Woman was at one end o’nt.

Sem. How now,
Pimante, why do you look so scurvily?

Pim. Ah,
Madam, such a Sight so dismal and bloody!

Cleo. What says he?

Pim. Clemanthis,
Madam —

Cleo. Clemanthis! Oh, what of him? Why, my prophetick Heart, dost thou betray me?

Sem. For Heaven’s sake,
Madam, reassume your Courage.

Cleo. Yes — I will hear — the fatal Story — out.

Pim. Truth is,
Madam, to retire from the Noise and Fury of the Battle, I came into this Wood; and when I thought all Danger past, I heard even here the Noise of Swords and Fighting; which endeavouring to avoid, I fell almost into the Danger of them.

Sem. Leave out the History of your own Fears, and come to the Business.

Pim. But ah,
Madam, unseen I saw: who did I see —
Ah, who should I see but Clemanthis,
Madam,
Fixt with his Back against yon Cypress-tree,
Defending himself against a dozen Murderers.
I was, alas, too weak to take the weaker side,
And therefore came not forth to his Assistance.
Prince Ismenes would have taken his Part, but came too late too;
But e’er he died we begg’d to know his Murderers,
And he could answer nothing but — Thersander.

Cleo. Remove me to the Body of my Love —

[They lead her to Amin. who lies wounded; she gazes on him a while, his Face being all bloody.

 — I will not now deplore as Women use,
But call up all my Vengeance to my Aid.
Expect not so much Imbecillity —
From her whose Love nor Courage was made known
Sufficiently to thee. Oh, my Clemanthis!
I wou’d not now survive thee,
Were it not weak and cowardly to die,
And leave thee unreveng’d.
 — Be calm, my Eyes, and let my Soul supply ye;
A silent broken Heart must be his Sacrifice:
Ev’ry indifferent Sorrow claims our Tears,
Mine do require Blood, and ’tis with that
These must be washt away —
                     [Rises, wipes her Eyes.
Whatever I design to execute,
Pimante, and Semiris, I conjure ye,
Go not about to hinder, but be silent,
Or I will send my Dagger to this Heart.
Remove this Body further into the Wood,
And strip it of these glittering Ornaments,
And let me personate this dear dead Prince.
Obey, and dress me strait without reply.
There is not far from hence a Druid’s Cell,
A Man for Piety and Knowledge famous:
Thither convey the breathless sacred Corps,
Laid gently in my Chariot,
There to be kept conceal’d till further Orders.

Sem. Ah,
Madam, what is’t you intend to do?

Cleo. What shou’d I do but die — ah! do not weep,
But haste to do as I command ye:
Haste, haste, the Time and my Revenge require it.

Sem. For Heaven’s sake,
Madam, for your royal self,
Do not pursue this cruel fatal Enterprize;
Pity the Queen, your Servants, and all Mankind.

Cleo. Away, thou feeble thing, that never knew’st the
real Joys of Love,
Or ever heard of any Grief like mine;
If thou wou’dst give me Proofs of thy Esteem,
Forget all Words, all Language, but Revenge.
Let me not see so much of Woman in thee
To shed one Tear, but dress thy Eyes with fierceness,
And send me forth to meet my Love, as gay,
As if intended for my nuptial Day.
That Soul that sighs in pity of my Fate,
Shall meet returns of my extremes! Hate:
Pity with my Revenge must find no room;
I’ll bury all but Rage within thy Tomb.

[Exeunt.