Mithridates, King of Pontus a tragedy : acted at the Theatre Royal by Their Majestie's servants / written by Nat. Lee.

MITHRIDATES King of Pontus , A TRAGEDY : Acted at the Theatre Royal , By their Majestie 's Servants .

Written by NAT. LEE .

Hi motus animorum atque haec certamina tanta , Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescent . Virgil. Georg. l. 4.

Licensed March 28 1678. ROGER L'ESTRANGE .

LONDON : Printed by R. E. for James Magnes and Rich. Bentley , in Russel-street in Covent-Garden , near the Piazza's 1678.

To the Right Honourable CHARLES , Earl of DORSET & MIDDLESEX , One of the Gentlemen of His MAJESTIES BED-CHAMBER , &c. My Lord ,

VVHen I call to mind what I have observ'd of your Wit and Judgment , the truest and most impartial I ever knew , my thoughts of writing after my loose manner to your Lordship are a little dash'd , and the meanest of 'em has the sense to tell me , I ought to be as curious and correct in a Dedication to one Man , as in that of a Play to a whole Nation . There is no doubt a Transport in ev'ry Poet who writes an Epistle , but for the most part they are dazl'd with the Eminence of their Patrons , and at best we can but call it an Awful Delight . But I profess , what those to whom I am disagreeable , will impute to want of Modesty , I make this Tragedy an Off'ring to your Lordship with as much freedom , pleasure , and perfect satisfaction , as ever Mithridates receiv'd when he found himself in the Arms of his Fairest Mistress . You stand Equal with the Greatest , and your Quality shou'd cause a Dread in the hardiest Writers : But on the other hand , there is such an innate sweetness of temper , such a most remarkable goodness in all your Actions , a Character peculiar to you more than any man alive , that the meanest , modestest of Poets may approach you . Methinks I feel a sort of chearful springing Pride , when I see your Lordship stand forth to this last Birth , which sure if I had ever any lovely , is much the Fairest Child . Happy Fortune must attend it , and Heav'n and Earth be pleas'd where you approve . I accost you , my Lord , without Formality , and wou'd appear before the severest Judge in the plainest Garb , or rather nakedness of thought ; as some , and those not of the least courage , go to the most bloody Test of valour , all unarm'd . An over-care in things of this nature does often turn to affectation , and what was meant a Guard , proves an Encumbrance : We may stiff'n our imaginations with making 'em too quaint ; and polish , till we are nothing else but gloss : I am infinitely pleas'd , to be as plain as I can , nor care I how it pleases others , tho I am sure it does , that I have laid this Play at your Lordships feet . All my Acquaintance that wish me well applaud my choice ; for I may safely affirm by the judgment of the Town , without being censur'd for a Dawber , there 's not a man whom all men love but you , you are beheld in all the Company you Honour , as if you were the Genius of that Prince who was call'd the Delight of Mankind , and are ador'd with all the love and admiration which e're the Noble Titus found in Rome . Ziphares is an imperfect Figure of your self ; I cast him in your Mould , and fashion'd him as well as my weak Fancy cou'd , to that Perfection the Court so universally allows you : When I design'd to draw him for the Ladies , endearing , soft , and passionately loving , I thought on you , and found the way to Charm ' em . And 't is most certain , he who obliges those Fair Criticks to be of his Party , has the surest Cards that ever Poet plaid : I cannot but own the Honours they have done me , and entreat your Lordship to secure 'em my Friends . There is yet a greater Honour I wou'd beg of your Lordship , and so important , I cannot name it without apprehension : Mithridates being in your hands , desires to be laid at the Feet of the Queen . Her Majesty , who is the Sublimest Goodness , and most merciful Vertue that ever blest a Land , has been pleas'd to grace him with her Presence , and promis'd it again with such particular praises , the effects of her pure Bounty , that shou'd he not express his Gratitude almost to adoration , he wou'd deserve another Fate , when he is next represented , than what he has hitherto receiv'd .

I have endeavour'd in this Tragedy to mix Shakespear with Fletcher ; the thoughts of the former , for Majesty and true Roman Greatness , and the softness and passionate expressions of the latter , which makes up half the Beauties , are never to be match'd : How have I then endeavour'd to be like ' em ? O faint Resemblance ! As Pizarro says of the Mexicans ,

â�� And those who now remain , Appear but as the Shadows of the Slain .

It may be objected , I broke the Scenes in the beginning of the Third and Fifth Acts ; those who are so nicely curious to be offended at this over-sight , may for their satisfaction leave 'em out , and the Play will be entire . I apply my self to your Lordship , as Montaign does to his Reader in his Chapter of Books ; I will , says he , love the Man that shall trace me ! For I have many times found fault with an Expression , as I pretended was in a Play of my own , and had it dam'd by no indifferent Criticks , tho the immortal Shakespear will not blush to own it . But I am confident your Lordship will find me out , and I desire to be so found a Refiner on those admirable Writers ; the Ground is theirs , and all that serves to make a rich Embroidery ! I hope the World will do me the Justice to think , I have disguiz'd it into another fashion more suitable to the Age we live in ; for if I cou'd perswade my self there were nothing of mine extraordinary in the Play , I wou'd not have dedicated it to the best of Men.

â�� Mediocribus esse Poetis , Non dii non homines non concessere columne .

Here you must give me leave to tell the World , that Pillars and Altars too ought to be rais'd to your Lordship , if the greatest Genius of Poetry deserves em : Your thoughts in some select Poems I have seen , are rich and new , as the Golden American World , your Expressions justly strong , your words Emphatical , as chosen men for an Enterprize of Glory : As it was observed of the Army of Alexander the Great , every Souldier look'd like a Commander , and every Commander like an Alexander ; so in your admirable Draughts , all things are so excellent , we know not where to fix ; we stand on Hills of so vast a breadth , that the Valleys are not seen ; it looks like Heaven all about us , and Fancy is lost in the infinite Beauty of the Prospect : Your Writing dazles with clearness and Majesty ; you draw , like Holbin , without Shadows .

â�� Qui Genus humanum ingenio superavit & omnes Praestrinxit stellas , exortus uti Aetherius Sol.

Your Images are so great , we look like Dwarfs beneath you ; and then so lively represented , tho of dead , low Objects , animated by your Genius ,

â�� Credas simulacra moveri Ferrea , cognatoque viros spirare metallo .

What e're you stamp is Royal , other Pretenders to Satyr but file and wash , they live by the Clippings of your Wit , and dip their Silver in your Bath , to make it pass for Gold. Self-preservation bids me say no more of your Lordships Poetry , lest I dam my own , who aim at nothing so much as the Honour of being thought by your Lordship ,

My Lord , Your most Humble , Obedient , and Devoted Servant , NAT. LEE .

MITHRIDATES , King of Pontus .

ACT I. SCENE I. The outer-part of the Temple of the Sun. A noise of Musick and tuning Voices is heard . Enter Pharnaces , Pelopidas . Phar. TO Night , to Night , this fatal Moment , now Our dreadful Father's Nuptials are preparing , And I must lose bright Monima for ever . Ambition too is barr'd , Scepters and Crowns , And all the golden Quarries now are lost . Zphares , O Ziphares ! happy Brother , Thou hast dislodg'd me by thy late Exploits , And now usurp'st my Father's Brest alone . Curs'd be the Pow'r that bless'd thee on thy way To overthrow Triarius ; curs'd the Stars That glitter'd round thy Head , when by thy Arm So many Tribunes and Centurions fell , As made Rome groan , and broke Lucullus heart . Pelop. Hear me , my Lord. â�� Phar. This Morning , on a Mountain Above the Clouds , his Triumph was perform'd And I assisted at the Sacrifice . Why gave I not this Body to the Flames , To be devour'd among the tortur'd Slaves , Rather than liv'd to see his Conquest Crown'd ? I saw it ; O , Pelopidas , these Eyes Saw Mithridates , with a Torch , give Fire To the vast Pile , which like a Pyramid Stood high upon the Hill , as that on Earth . Pelop. Will you but give me leave ? Phar. I saw the blaze Of his immortal Honour , heard the shout Of all the Court , which did torment the Air To that degree , that Birds fell round us dead ; And that thin Region , where we scarce cou'd live When first we did ascend , became so fat With the rich Steam of Blood and boyling Gold And flowing Gums , that we were forc'd remove : Nay , I believe , the glutted Gods themselves Were almost choak'd , with the prodigious Odors . Pelop. Yet have you done ? Phar. To the green Neptune then , Because at Sea old Archelaus had Been Conqueror with my Brother , in their Names An Off'ring was decreed ; a Chariot all With Emeralds set , and fill'd with Coral Tridents , Was with a hundred Horses , wild as Wind , From off the top of that most dismal place Plung'd to the bottom of the slimy Deep . Pelop. Let me intreat you call your Reason home , And listen to your faithful Servant's Counsel : You cannot hate your Brother more to Death , Than I his Friend , the General Archelaus . ' Has got the start of me in the King's favour ; And tho , without being vain , I think my self The better Souldier , he by Polities Has push'd me from the Dignities I bore : The Lion's outed by the Fox . Phar. But with full cry Let us unkennel him ; rather rebel , Than bear it thus : 't is mine , 't is thy concern : Nor let the Name of King , or Father , awe us . A Mistress , and a Throne ! most specious Titles . The God of Battel rages in my Breast ; And as at Delphos , when the glorious Fury Kindles the Blood of the Prophetick Maid , The bounded Deity does shoot her out , Draws every Nerve thin as a Spider's Thred , And beats the skin out like expanded Gold : So , with the meditation of the Work Which my Soul bears , I swell almost to bursting . Pelop. In all the many changes of my Life I have not known one equal yet to yours ; At other times so moderate , so true A Soveraign o're your self , you seem'd to want Those Passions for your Slaves who Lord it now . Phar. I 'me hush'd if thou hast ought of comfort , speak . Pelop. This Night your Father has decreed to Marry The Daughter of Palemon . Phar. What can hinder ? Pelop. Nothing ; yet mark : my Brother Tryphon is High-Priest o' th' Sun , whom all the rest obey : Him have I wrought , that when the Nuptial Rites Begin , some strange presages shall fall out , Disorders unexpected , to foreshow The Gods are much offended at the Marriage . How this may work with one of mighty Faith In holy Fables , one of various humor , Whom every day new Beauties set on Fire , Be you the Judge . Phar. Methinks it has a Face ; But yet there 's wanting what I cou'd have wish'd : Had it been Janus-like , back'd with another : When Mithridates frighted from his Queen , Warn'd by false Oracles , shou'd have retir'd Perplex'd , yet strugling with the pangs of Love ; Then to have laid a Beauty to his longing , Some fair unknown , proud of her gaudy Bloom , T' have quench'd his thirsty wishes , that had been A Masterpiece ! But let him Marry her , Sure Death shall wait upon his laughing Hymen ; And when the God has given her to his Arms , Fate with unerring force shall part 'em ever . Pelop. Yet raging ? 'T is as you have said , and more ! More than excelling Mischief cou'd invent , That is not best . We have already rais'd him ; Andravar , my Lieutenant General , Scorn'd by your Brother , whom he therefore hates , First form'd the Plot : Old Archelaus's Daughter , The fair Semandra , Mistress to Ziphares , Is destin'd to be made your Father's Prey . Phar. Excellent Engine ! now thou work'st indeed ; Thou hast hit the Vein , the Life-blood of his Heart : I cannot see ought in the extent of Art , Or Nature , that can mend it . O Ziphares , Still Conquer ; rise with Triumphs , high as Heav'n , So such a Bolt as this be sure to wait thee . Enter Andravar . But see the brave Lieutenant ! come to my Arms , And tell me , shall Semandra be the King's ? Andr. I think , my Lord , that I may safely swear it . Phar. Thy bluntness merits praise , and says , thou' rt fit To serve my best revenge , Love , or Ambition . Andr. Great Mithridates , whom I well have study'd , Tho he has weather'd forty Winter Fields , Yet rises in his vigor , ventures more , Nor feels decay of strength ; none Learn'd as he In Nature's Garden ; whence to his Constitution Most excellent , he adds such helps by Art , That by his looks he might be thought Immortal . The World , too , knows he is as Amorous now As when the first Sighs heav'd his youthful Brest , And his first Tears bedew'd the Shrines of Love. Phar. The Consequence ? Andr. He often has been pleas'd To make me honour'd with his private thoughts ; Whereon my General and I agreed , Knowing your love to Monima , And hatred to your Brother , with one blow To drive the business that shou'd Crown your wishes . Therefore I daily fill'd your Father's Ears With praises of Semandra , rais'd his wonder , Describ'd her dress , and each particular grace ; Her Eyes , her Hands , her Lips , with all their beauties ; And have so fir'd him , that there only wants A view to perfect all ; and that will be To Night . Phar. How know'st thou that ? Andr. I learnt it all From a She-slave that waits upon Semandra , Who told me that Ziphares , with consent Of Archelaus , wou'd beg her of the King , When he this Night shou'd Monima Espouse . [ Soft Musick . Nor doubt , but when he once has seen Semandra , The Charms of his new Queen will vanish . Hark , The sacred Musick sounds ! â�� The King and Queen are coming . Enter Archilaus , Ziphares , Semandra . See , your Brother , Semandra and her Father . Phar. O my lab'ring Brest ! how hopes and fears Toss my wrack'd Heart , like a poor Bark , about ! But soon the Calm will come , or I must perish in the Tempest . Exeunt Phar. Pelop. and Andr. Ziph. By Heav'n , my Love , thou dost distract my Soul ; There 's not a Tear that falls from those dear Eyes But makes my Heart weep Blood â�� O my Father ! All is not well : I found her in the Morning , Not like a Bride , with all her Maids about her , Half-smiling , now half-serious with her thoughts , Of what must come ; nor warm , nor bright , nor blushing ; But , Oh the Gods ! I found her on the Floor , In all the storm of grief , yet beautiful , Sighing such breath of sorrow , that her Lips Which late appear'd like buds , were now o'reblown , Pouring forth tears at such a slavish rate , That , were the World on Fire , they might have drown'd The wrath of Heav'n , and quench'd the mighty ruine . Arch. Nothing , my Lord â�� 't is all but Virgin 's fear : Marriage to Maids is like a War to Men , The Battel causes fear ; but the sweet hopes Of winning at the last still draws 'em on . Sem. Alas , my Lord ! [ Weeping . Ziph. What , but alas ? no more ? when by the Hand I led her to the Temple , thus she sigh'd , And hung upon me . If thou truly lov'st me , If I may credit my Semandra's tears , Think 'em not drops of Chance like other Womens , The Weather of their Souls , The Christal bubbles Which they can make at will ; Oh satisfie The longings of my braest , and tell thy sorrows . Sem. That I do love you , Oh all you Host of Heav'n , Be Witness ? that you are dear to me , Dearer than Day to one whom sight must leave , Dearer than Life to one that fears to dye ; O thou bright Pow'r be Judge whom we adore , Be Witness of my Truth , be Witness of my Love ! But yet I fear â�� Ziph. That fear , give me that fear , Semandra ; Produce it in the ugliest form it has , If ought that is deform'd can come from thee . Sem. I shall , my Lord ; since you are pleas'd to hear me , Uunfold my doubts , the cause of all my Tears . First then , I must complain of my hard Stars , That did not dart kind Lustre on my Birth ; For tho at present , while your young Blood boyls , Your Reason cannot get the Rein of Passion , Yet it will come , when long possession cloyes you , Then you will think what Queens you might have had , With Kingdoms for their Dower ; perhaps you may Prove so unkind , to tell me of it too ; Or , if you shou'd not , yet your Eyes wou'd speak â�� [ Weeping . Enough to break the heart of poor Semandra . Ziph. Why dost thou stab me with the tenderness Of thy false fears , and melt me into mourning ? 'T is most unseasonable on our Wedding-day To be seen thus : I know thou canst not doubt me . No , thou most lovely of the fairer kind , Think not a Crown can ever change my Virtue . Ah , who wou'd leave the warmth of this lov'd Bosome For the cold cares which black Ambition brings ? Sem. Spight of ill-boding Dreams , unlucky Omens , You must , you shall , you ought to be believ'd . And , if I weep again , it is for joy That I this Night shall be your happy Bride . Ziph. Oh Mithridates , mighty as thou art , Before whose Throne Princes stand dumb as Death , With folded Arms , and their Eyes fix'd to Earth ; Dishonour brand me , if I wou'd not chuse A private Life with her whom my Soul loves , Rather than live like thee , with all thy Titles , The King of Kings , without her . Arch. Pray , my Lord , Defer till Mid-night these strong Extasies , Fate yet may put a bar betwixt our hopes , And then the loss wilt be more hardly born . The Scene draws , discovering the inner part of the Temple . Mithridates holding Monima by the Hand ; his Queens , Concubines , Sons and Daughters attending . Three Roman Captains , L. Cassius , Q. Oppius , and Manius Aquilius bound in Gold Chains , with many other Slaves standing at distance . Mith. Not yet , O Rome , great Tyrant of the World , Hast thou subdu'd the Asian Emperor . In thy despight I hold my glory still , Still tread upon the Necks of conquer'd Kings , Still make thy Consuls tremble at my Name ; And , in one mightiest Word to sum up all , A Word which , like a Charm , might raise the Ghosts Of Pyrrhus , and the experienc'd Hannibal To envy , and be dazled at my deeds ; A Word , a Name , that comprehends all Honors , All Titles , Riches , Power , all Majesty , In spight of Rome , I 'm Mithridates still . Aquil. The Nations must confess , that Alexander Cou'd not more dreadful to the East appear , Than you : ev'n Rome wou'd buy her peace with joy , Cou'd you at reasonable rates afford Your Royal Friendship , tho by your command , Most dreadful to Italian Memory , In one dark Day , damn'd in the Book of Fate , A hundred thousand murder'd Romans fell . Mith. Darest thou , fomenter of these Wars , to talk ? Thou , purple Source of all these bloody streams , Which have for more than thirty years o'reflow'd The Asian Banks , and dy'd Euphrates red ? Darest thou , Commissioner in chief , to put The Earth in Arms , and set the World on flame , Once think of Peace ? Now , by the Fire-rob'd God , Thou shalt have punishment that fits thy Crimes . Aquil. The bravest must submit when Fortune frowns . Mith. Desire of Wealth , the Lust of shining Dirt , And Palace Plunder , caus'd thee with Arm'd Legions T' invade a King , whose Father was Rome's Friend . But , by the asserted Justice of my Cause , The help of Heav'n , and of my own Right-hand , I conquer'd thee , and thou art now my Slave . Guards , strait convey him to the Market-place , Take off his wealthy Chains , and melt 'em down ; Then , for a terrible Example to All sordid Wretches , Souls made up of Avarice , Pour down his Throat the rich dissolved Mass , And gorge his Entrails with the burning Gold. Mon. Not , my dear Lord , upon your Nuptial Day . Mith. On any Day , my Queen , to do a Justice Which all the Gods , and all good Men must like . For Lucius Cassius , and for Quintus Oppius , A milder Destiny 's in store . Away with him . And now proceed we to the sacred Rites . Aquil. Yet , e're you join , hear me , proud Emperour , Hear what the Fates have put into my brest : I see my Death , by Roman Arms , reveng'd ; And what Lucullus had so well begun , Pompey shall end ; Pompey , thy glory's ruine . This hour that gives me Death , shall be the last Of all thy quiet : swift domestick jars Shall overtake thee ; thou shalt add more blood To that already shed from thy own Bowels : And when at last subdu'd in all thy Wars , Spoil'd of thy Queens , thy Sons and Daughters slain , Thou seek'st some corner of thy conquer'd Empire To hide thy abandon'd Head in ; then the load Of all thy woes shall come , one whom thou least Shalt fear , long nourish'd in thy impious breast , Shall stab thee to the heart , and end thy days . That this , all this , and more may light upon thee , I pray the Gods ; and so the Furies seize thee . Mith. Away , to Death with the Prophetick Fool. [ Ex. Guards with Aquilius . Tryphon , begin , and let the Altar smoak With such rich Victims , to the well-pleas'd Gods , That they may smile from Heav'n , and give us joy . Here follows the Entertainment : after which , the King and Queen return from the Altar to sit in state . An Image of Victory descends with two Crowns in her hands ; but on a sudden the Engines break , and cast the Image forward on the Stage with such violence that they dash in pieces . Mithridates starting up . Mith. Ha! whence ? how fell this out ? Now , by my Arms , Our Nuptials are not pleasing to the Gods ; 'T is for some fault of mine , O Monima , That Heav'n denies thy beauties to my bosome : Thus , when we did approach the hallow'd Vault , A Prophesying Priest , with start-up Hair , With rolling Eyes , and Nostrils wide as Mouths , Stopt us i' th way , and said we were no Match . As well the noblest Salvage of the Field Might tamely couple with a fearful Ewe , Tygers ingender with the timorous Deer , Wild muddy Bores defile the cleanly Ermin , Or Vultures sort with Doves , as I with thee . 'T is a cross thought , and much disturbs me here . Mon. Command me dye , e're give your Majesty Cause of the least disturbance , O , my Lord ! Think you that I wou'd lye within your Arms To hear you sigh , and give me Tears for Love ? Or think you , 't is to Empire I aspire ? Rather dismiss me from your Breast , the Haven Where I had hoarded all my happiness , And cast me out to a wide Sea of weeping . Mith. How e're the Pow'rs above shall deal with me , Racking my heart with what they have set down , Thou art our Queen . Mon. O , 't is an empty Name , A senseless sound , except I am your Love : I find , I find that I am lost for ever . I have but slept , charm'd with a golden Dream , And now am wak'd to beggery again . Why did you take me from my Father's Wing ? Who , tho a petty Prince , was yet a World Of warmth to me ; why did you tempt me forth With burning Love , and the bright Comet Power ? Mith. Fright not thy tender heart with false suspicions ; I will be ever thine : But give me leave A little to digest with serious thoughts , The anger of the Heav'ns â�� Andravar . Andr. My Lord ? Phar. They whisper , General . [ To Pelop. Ziph. coming forward . Stars , by your leave ; Ill Omens may the guilty tremble at , Make every accident a Prodigy , And Monsters frame where Nature never err'd ; May the fear'd Conscience start at falling Meteors , And call the schreme of every hooting Owl , Or croaking Raven , Fate 's most dreadful Voice : For me , I laugh at 'em , shou'd now the Heav'n Flame with a thousand Fires , ne're seen before , And Thunder beat the Winds from every corner , Not for the Calm of all the Universe Wou'd I put off my Joys a moment longer . Stand back , my Love ; and , when I call , come forth : A minute makes us blest , or wretched ever . [ Comes to the middle of the Stage , and kneels . Mith. Is there in all the space of our wide Empire Ought of that most inestimable value To make Ziphares kneel ? Ziph. There is , my Lord , Thus to adore you . Mith. O , Celestial Powers ! Mark me your Subject out for all misfortunes , The Curses of the Roman Manius fall Heavy upon me ; Fortune's giddy Wheel , Which we have fix'd with our Majestick weight , Turn round with me , when I deny him ought That he can ask with Honour : Rise , my Son. Ziph. rising . Since on the great Request which I shall make The peace or trouble of my Life depends , The torment or the pleasure of my Soul , Eternal griefs , or everlasting joys , I wou'd recall to your remembrance , Sir , The toils and hardships which my early Valour Has undergone , the many Fields I'have fought , And Conquer'd too ; and as of old the Romans Who sought the Consulship , made bare their breasts , Lac'd with long Scars , and studded o're with Thrusts , The Noble Wardrobe of the Scarlet War ; I wou'd , with bolder mention of my deeds , Display my Wounds to move your Royal Favour , And offer , to the blood which I have shed , All my heart holds for sealing of your promise . Mith. O , had'st thou fought so poorly as thou speak'st Thy Actions , all the Laurels which lye green Upon thee , strait wou'd wither , and be dust . To mention but thy last , thy last of Wars , Which ev'n the breath of Majesty makes vile , So much below thy Valour is all Language â�� Ziph. The glory of that Battel is your own . Mith. To thee we owe the day , our life and Empire ; When six Centurions bore me from my Saddle , And laid me groveling , for the violent Horse To tread my Soul out ; how did my brave Ziphares Break through their walls of Steel , leap o're the Ramparts Of the dead bodies that had fenc'd me in , On his own Courser mounting me to life . Pious even in the mouth of Slaughter , while On foot himself , he with his Battel-axe Bore down the Legions , drove whole Troops before him , And brought their Eagles drooping from the Field ! Demand , I say , ask me most Royally , I will be lavish to thy vast Ambition , And Crown thy wishes like a giving God. Ziph. In thankfulness I bend me to the Earth , Once more fall prostrate to your Majesty , And pray the Gods to give you length of days . Come forth , come forth , my Fairest ; break , my Day ; Appear , and Charm , dazle the whole Assembly . [ Semandra comes forward . Mith. A wonder ! Ha! Ziph. She is , my Lord , the Boast , The lovely Chance-work , Master-piece of Nature , Who blush'd to see what her own hands had made ; As if , mistaking Moulds , she unawares Had cast Semandra in a Form Divine . Sem. These praises , breath'd from any Lips but yours , Lord of my life , and Idol of my love , Wou'd make me sink with shame , or scorn the Flatterer ; But as they come from you , from that lov'd Mouth , The tender Off rings of your fond Desires , I take 'em all , and die upon the sound : To the driven Air my flying Soul is fasten'd ; Each word , each sillable you spoke is mine ; Yes , I am fair , a Queen , a Goddess , any thing That my dear Lord is pleas'd to have me be . Mith. She talks â�� Ziph. And with so good Ã Grace , That nothing but her Wit can Charm beyond it , Late in the Camp I languish'd with a Fever , And sure had dy'd , but for this fair Physician ; Who in the midst of all my fiery pains , When Art was at a loss , and I lay gasping , Wou'd quite beguile my sufferings with her Songs , Her welcom Pity , and her soft Endearments : Now , laying her chaste Cheek , cold with her Tears , To mine , she wou'd abate the raging fire ; Now , with warm sighs kindle my fading spirits , And when I fainted with a Kiss recal me . Mith. By Heav'n she weeps , and I cou'd drink the Dew . Phar. He takes the poyson , fast as I cou'd wish . Pelop. And Prince Ziphares forces her upon him . Arch. Hold , you have gone too far ; speak to the purpose . Ziph. Ambition therefore was not my Request ; In Colchis or in Bosphorus to Reign : Leave to my Brothers all your Empire ; and To me , this only Beauty for Reward . Mith. Reward ! Wert thou on Mithridates Throne , Possess'd of all his Kingdoms , were thine eye Like his who guides the day , and thou cou'dst call In all thy Journeys what thou saw'st thy own ; Her eyes wou'd match thy lustre : all thy glories Wou'd be but shadows , when this Face appear'd . Ziph. They wou'd , my Lord. Mith. They wou'd , my Lord ! Yet more ; By all my Royalties , a God might wed her , And be a gainer by the beauteous Bride . Ziph. Such as she is â�� Mith. Not Heav'n it self can mend her . Had I as many Tongues as I have Languages , Skill'd in all Speeches of the babling World , And cou'd at once speak to as many Nations , With such a grace as might make Athens blush . By Mercury , and by the Father of The Muses , I shou'd never speak Semandra . Mon. O , he is gone ! his vow'd fidelity Is gaz'd away ! Mith. Tell me her Birth , Ziphares : She must be more than Royal. Ziph. Fate , thy worst : Let me be dumb for ever from this moment . Arch. In me your Majesty may please to read Her Father : what I want in Dignity , Be pleas'd to fill up with my Services . Mith. Thy Daughter ! Arch. Yes , my gracious Lord , my Daughter . Mith. O pity that so fair a Star shou'd be The Child of Night ; that such a stream of Crystal Shou'd have her Spring so muddy ! Thou dy'st , thou saucy old ambitious Dotard , Who dar'st to match thy Lees of blood with ours , And daub the Throne of the Immortal Cyrus . Ziph. Hold , hold , most awful , give Ziphares death , Impale me , burn me , bury me alive , But do not wrong this innocent old man ; These hairs , which were made Silver in your service , O the good Gods ! whom fear cou'd never shake , Your bitter words have caus'd to tremble : see , With the disgrace , he weeps ; his Springs of life Which had been dry for fifty years , this last Affront has water'd : Oh my poor Father ! Mith. Ha! that Name again , Thou art no more my Son. For thee , Semandra , Thou shalt attend our Queen ; to Court , my Fair , Where I must learn you to forget Ziphares , And match you equal to your birth . Sem. My Lord â�� Ziphares â�� Father . Mith. Look not back . Conduct the Queen , Pharnaces . O , Semandra ! 'T is to your Tears I sacrifice my Justice ; To them , your Fathers life I 'll not deny , Who , for Ambition , did deserve to die . Exeunt all but Ziphares and Archelaus . Arch. Dotard ! and saucy ! nay , the Lees of blood ! Now , by the Gods , 't is sprightly as his own : O , 't is too much to bear . Forgive me , Prince ; It breaks the very neck of Loyalty : Perhaps , he Whores my Daughter too . But first , Rather than see him wear my glories Spoils , Thou , my good Sword , that has so oft been drawn , And dy'd thy self in Roman bowels , to The very Guard , for this ungrateful King , Be faithful to me , as thou still hast been , And pierce the heart of thy dishonour'd Master . Ziph. Oh , Archelaus ! Oh , my kinder Father ! If you are stir'd thus at an angry word , What shou'd I be ; I who am lost indeed , I who am stunn'd , I who sustain'd the stroke Of all the anger of the Fates at once ? Semandra , O my Love ! Arch. Restrain your grief , As I my rage , and let us think apace . Tho for my Daughters Virtue I wou'd stake My Immortal part , my Fame so dearly bought . Yet force , which he may use , will have its way : Consider that . Ziph. Consider ! how shou'd I Consider , who grow mad with crouding thoughts ; Where every one endeav'ring to be foremost Stops up the passage , and will choak my Reason ? Arch. Once more speak humbly to him , Perhaps , 't is but a sudden short-liv'd fit , A gust of Passion that may soon blow over : But if you find it rooted in his heart , Eat your way through him , to your happiness ; Or perish , like your Brother Mithridates . Ziph. By Heav'n , I think it greatest happiness Never to have been born ; and next to that , To die : for who that wears his flesh can bear The curse of Accidents , a Change like mine ? I who , some moments past , wou'd not have chang'd Condition , with the blessed Gods themselves ; Now , in all probability , am lost , And stand upon the very brink of ruine . Arch. Your Destiny 's uncertain ; Fate , as yet , Holds the Scale doubtful : let us haste to Court , Where we shall learn which way the Ballance falls . Ziph. Not half an hour ago , methought secure I hug'd my self , and almost cou'd have wept In meer compassion to th' hard-fated World , Thinking how much my state was happier . Arch. Yet all the while you did not spy the danger Which crept invisible , and undermin'd you . Ziph. Alas , I did not ; without fear I stood : Like one who , on the Beach , discries from far A labouring Bark , with which the Billows war ; Pities its state , wishing the Tempest gon , But views not the near Sea come rolling on : So did with me my unseen Fortune play , Till the Waves came , and wash'd me quite away . [ Exeunt .

ACT II. SCENE I. Enter Pharnaces , and Pelopidas . Phar. I 'LL hear no more ; get me a hundred Horse To be our Guard , I 'll bear her hence to night , And Ravish her , by all the fire that acts This fearless frame , I will. Declare the diff'rence ? Is not the Blood of Queens and Princesses Like other Womens ? Souls alike infus'd ; Their Banquets richer , and the Drinks they taste The very Spirits of the Purple Vine ? Yet we must think 'em cold as candid Ice , Not a thought starting , free from warm desires , As the bleak Girl upon the Mountain's top , Cover'd with Snow , beat'n with constant Winds , That feeds on Herbs and Roots , and drinks the Dew . Pelop. What , wou'd you have her fall like mellow Fruit Whom yet no Sun has shone upon , no warmth To ripen ? ' bate a little of this fire . Phar. Pelopidas , I oft have told you , that She knew my love , before she saw my Father ; For in the Plunder I first lighted on her : Tho afterwards he took my beauteous spoil , As now he does my Brother's . I alledg'd , As late I led her weeping to her Chamber , My constant passion , and his breach of faith , All that a love most violent cou'd put Into a Lover's mouth , like mine ; but she unmov'd , Insensible reply'd , the King , 't was possible , At last might kill her with his cruelty ; Yet to the utmost moment of her life She wou'd adore him with such spotless love , Such most Romantick faith , and such a deal Of whining grief , that in a rage I flung Away , and left her talking to her self . Pelop. And do you think this haughtiness will carry 't ? He that will win a most exalted Beauty , Must bend his Soul low , as he bows his Body , Watch every Glance , obey her e're she speaks , Cast up his eyes at each affected word , And swear-Besides her Honour , Sir , her Honour , Obliges her to stand a while at distance . Phar. T is almost empty ; Honour , Courtship , all But gaudy Nonsense . O , Pelopidas , Rather than buy my Pleasure with such baseness , I 'de be a Brute : Now , by my Life ; methinks , The happier Creature , cast before thy eyes ; The generous Horse , loose in a Flow'ry Lawn , VVith choice of Pasture , and of Chrystal Brooks , And all his chearful Mistresses about him , The white , the brown , the black , the shining bay , And every dappled Female of the Field ; Now , by the Gods , for ought we know , as Man Thinks him a Beast , Man seems a Beast to him . Pelop. Be more considerate , less rash and hot ; I have thought of an Expedient to gain her . Phar. Thou art my better Genius , and shalt flourish , VVhen Archelaus , like a blasted Tree , Lies rotting to the ground . Pelop. Did Mithridates Know of your Love to Monima ? Phar. He did : As publickly I show'd it as Ziphares : Yet he , who like the Hesperian Dragon , thinks The Golden Fruit of Beauty all his own , Flew at me as a Thief , who , while he slept , Had stoln his Prize , and made me pay it back ; Or swore my life shou'd be the fatal forfeit . Pelop. 'T is as I cou'd have wish'd : thus then , the King , VVhose Heart Semandra kindles into Flame , Cools every hour to his new-marry'd Bride , And will not Bed her till the Coronation . A meer put off , wading in deep disgust , And wishing for pretence to part for ever . Phar. VVhich he shall have ; this Head of thine has thought it . Pelop. I , and the needful Andravar , VVho feels the Pulse of his Affection , VVill swear boldly , As Witnesses who had both seen and heard The jealous Monima inrag'd with Love , But more for what her vast Ambition lost , Strove to revive the passion that you bore her ; But you most generously oppos'd her Charms , Which with unwillingness you shall confess , And beg your fiery Father to forgive her . Phar. Pithy , and short ; thou art the Soul of Counsel . Pelop. The very breaking of the business , throws Her into Prison ; where , while I guard the door , Your Highness may , with as much ease , perform Your pleasure , as your faithful servant thought it . Phar. In thanks , the vilest fawning lying Slave Wou'd speak thee fairer than Pharnaces shall ; But let my deeds be grateful to my Souldier . Enter Andravar . What news , my Andravar ? Andr. Your Guardian-spirit Now lays about him , and invisibly Acts wonders for you , madding all the Court : Semandra weeping , and your Father burning ; Monima , like a Widow'd-Turtle , mourning ; Old Archelaus pushing on his Fate , And Amorous Ziphares , led by love , To tumble from the top of all his hopes . Defiance from the Roman Consul Glabrio , I sent , and the third Pontick War renew'd . But Love so rocks your Fathers drouzy brain , That all the Trumpets of the thundring Legions Can scarce awake him . See where he comes ! Enter Mithridates attended . His haughty courage scarce submitting to The weight which presses him ; but , striking out . Mith. She must be mine , this admirable Creature , Her Charms are now inevitable grown ; And , while I seem to fright her from my Son , I talk , and gaze , and dote , to my undoing . See her no more ; lose her with weighty thoughts , And drown her in the Ocean of thy Power : In vain I strive with cares to keep her down , In vain does business sink her to the bottom ; This Bladder Love still bears her up again . Phar. Like a caught Lyon , raging in the snare , He plunges in his passion , spends his force , And struggles with the Toil that holds him faster . Mith. See her no more â�� and live ! Impossible . As well I might bid Meteors keep their lustre , When all the shining Exhalation's spent That fed their short-liv'd glory . Enter Monima . Mon. O Mithridates ! O my cruel Lord ! I come with all the violence of grief , To take my last farewel . Mith. What means the Queen ? Mon. The Queen ! O mockery of State ! Pageant of Greatness ! wondred at a while , But strait neglected like a common thing . I come , my Lord , to beg ( O Heav'ns ! ) your leave , Your Royal License , to retire from Court ; And , since my Father by your bounty Reigns At Ephesus , I there wou'd go to mourn , And languish out my wretched Life's remain . Mith. Why will you add new troubles to my Bosom , Already burthen'd with the Wrath of Heav'n , By your unnecessary grief ? Mon. From Earth , I fear , And not from Heav'n , those Cloudy Cares are drawn . Mith. No matter whence ; they 're dangerous to partake : The tender Face of Beauty cannot bear 'em ; For , if from Earth they come , their Damp will stifle ; And , if from Heav'n , their Influence is blasting . Mon. Were you but kind , my Lord , as once you were , What blasting cou'd I fear ? what dangers , drest In all the horrours of most dreadful Death ? But you are pleas'd that I shou'd not complain . Andr. Semandra , by your Majesty's appointment , Attends without . Mith. Fair Monima , retire : You will oblige me by a confidence I cannot be , but yours ; affairs of State Now take me from you . Mon. Say , the affairs of Love. I wou'd , my Royal Lord , but cannot blame you ; I feel a Spirit within me , which calls up All that is Woman wrong'd , and bids me chide : But you are Mithridates , that dear man Whom my Soul loves ; else , were you all the Kings , All Worlds , all Gods , I cou'd let loose upon you , For those deep injuries which I must suffer ; Cou'd , like the fighting Winds , disturb all Nature With venting of my wrongs ; but I am hush'd As a spent Wave , and all my fiery Powers Are quench'd , when I but look upon your Eyes , Where , like a Star in water , I appear A pretty sight , but of no Influence , And am at best but now a shining Sorrow . [ Exit , led by Pharnaces . Mith. O Love ! if that the Face of such Affection , Such modest Sweetness , and such humble Virtue , As my Queen bears , fix not my wandring Heart ; Break , break thy Bow , and burn thy useless Arrows : By Heav'n , her kindness strikes my troubled Soul. Enter Semandra with Andravar attending . But see , she 's lost again , Semandra comes , Who drowns like blushing Noon her paler dawn , And shows like Summer to the Infant Spring . Semandra , what , still weeping ? will not all The Wealth which the Sun sees throughout the East Dry up your Tears ? methinks , an Empire might Suffice for any loss . I give you all my Power ; And , with it , such a heart , as nought but Love Cou'd bow : I throw it bleeding at your Feet . Behold , behold , Semandra , while I blush , The great effects of your Commanding Beauty . Sem. Were you yet greater than you are , which scarce The Gods can make you ; tho no bounds but Heav'n Did limit your large Sway ; tho in your person all The Graces met that ever Man adorn'd , The Blush of Rising Youth , the Conquering Eyes , The Noble Smiles , and those most passionate Beauties , Which drew my Heart to Idolize your Son ; I cou'd not love you . Mith. Oh , unmerciful ! Sem. You said , my Lord , but now , You blush'd to think of your degraded Power ; How then ought I to blush ? I , who shou'd be The daily Curse of your repining Subjects ? I , who am bound by Oaths and solemn Vows To love Ziphares ? By my Father's Order , And by the tenderest Inclination too . Mith. You strike me dead . Sem. Oh , do but think , my Lord , How wou'd Mankind , when they shall read my Story , Tear all the Rolls , or throw 'em to the Flames ! How wou'd the weeping Maids curse my remembrance , Shou'd I for pride of Power , a Golden Promise , A gaudy Nothing , prove ingrateful perjur'd ! Leave all the goodness of the Earth to languish , And break for ever with his matchless Virtue ! Mith. You have said ; and I confess it to be Heav'nly : I know , and till I saw your Eyes , I lov'd The Virtue of my Son ; I lodg'd him near My Heart , and set him down my Successor : But now , Oh hear , and wonder at your Power , Spight of his Noble Acts , tho to his Arm I owe my Life , tho Justice speaks so loud , And the soft Tongue of Nature pleads so well , I hate him more than I did ever love him . Sem. Alas ! wou'd I had dy'd when first you saw me . Mith. Had he conspir'd my Death , usurp'd my Throne , Perhaps I might have doom'd him to be slain , Yet sure I shou'd have wept to see him die ; But now , since he must Ravish that lov'd Gem , I prize above the World , tearing you from me , Giving me twenty Deaths , and cutting through My very Soul , shou'd I my Empire give To buy his Fate , I 'de think it vastly sold. Sem. Then blasted be the Form that charm'd your Eyes . His Fate ! Oh , Gods ! then you design his Death , To reap the Bloody Harvest of his Life , And , Atreus-like , to feed on your own Bowels ? But know , Proud Monarch , there are Powers who see And punish Crimes like yours : Nor can I doubt But they will save from your most Impious Rage My poor lov'd Lord , the Innocent Ziphares . [ Weeping . Mith. Those Waters more inrage my Jealous Flame , And those heav'd Sighs but spread my Anger 's Wings ; Your Fatal Kindness hastens on his Death ; And that untimely Doom which I forbore To execute , seems necessary now : You give him all your Stock of richest Love , Your Tears , your longing Looks , your Smiles , your Groans , And over-bless him with your lavish kindness ; But niggardly to me you will not spare A pitying Glance , one Pearly drop , to Ransom The Soul of this despairing Mithridates . Andravar , go , and bear the Prince to Prison . Sem. Stay , Andravar ; the King has call'd you back : See , he repents : Nay , I must hold you then , And , if you stir , you take Semandra with you . O , Mithridates ! O ungrateful Prince ! What was it you did order ? But behold , His Eyes are fix'd upon the ground , he blushes To think he cou'd so monstrously Decree To murder the sweet hopes of all his Kingdoms , The Gods be prais'd for this Serene Repentance : Yet , with the fright , I fear I shall not sleep Till Death does close my Eyes . Mith. O rise , Semandra ! Sem. Never , I never will. Oh all you pitying Powers , will not my cryes And piercing Woes move you to melt his Soul ? Can you be deaf ? Oh Cruel Mithridates ! Did you but know the workings you have made , The heavy plight , the panting Passions here , If you had but a Grain of all that World Of Love , you swore you once had for Semandra , You cou'd not see me thus : Misery distracts My Reason ; shou'd you turn to a new rage , ( Which I must fear , unless you Vow to save him ) I cou'd not bear it ; you shou'd see me fall Cold , pale , and with my Deaths Convulsions grasping Your water'd feet , but never more rise . Mith. Give me your Beauteous Hand ; I swear upon it , By all those Powers we worship , by our Self , When e're Ziphares dies , Semandra kills him : She shall alone have Power to give him Death , Or to recal his most untimely Fate . Enter Ziphares and Archelaus . Thus dearly do I buy the Red Impression Which my Lips make ; but take it , take it from me : My Blood boils up again , my Spirits kindle , That lovely Brand has lent my wishes flame , And I am lost again in vast desire . Ziph. Semandra ! live I once to see thee more , Tho in my Father's Arms ? 'T is Heav'n , to gaze On thy assaulted Honour ; thus to see thee ; Thus tempted from me with the Charms of Empire , Yet not consenting ! No , I 'll not think the World , Laid at thy Feet , Cou'd win thy Faith ! Yet , O dread Sir , forgive me : If that my boding Heart suspects you more , Then all that Heav'n cou'd send down great and charming , Or Hell cou'd raise up horrid to destroy me . Mith. O Glory ! Arch. O , consider , Sir , on that ; Think how the Romans will despise your Wars , If Love now drive you â�� Speak , my Lord : he yields . Ziph. Oh , Royal Sir , or if the Name of Father Can move you more , by that I will Conjure you ; By all the Charms of Stratonice's Eyes , When first they drew you to adore their lustre ; By all the Pains you gave her when she bore me ; By all the Obedience I have paid you long , And by the Blood I yet intend to lose In your behalf : oh grant me my Semandra . Sem. Ev'n by the Passion my unhappy Beauty First kindled in you , but I hope is dying , Give me Ziphares , give him to my Longings . Mith. 'T is done ; the Conquest is at last obtain'd , And Manly Virtue Lords it o're my Passion : It shall be so ; away , thou feeble God , I banish thee my Bosom , hence I say ; Be gone , or I will tear the Strings that hold thee , And stab thee in my Heart . The Wars come on ; By Heav'n , I 'll drown thy laughing Deity In Blood , and drive thee with my brandish'd Sword To Rome , I will , yes , to the Capitol ; There to resume thy Godhead once again , And vaunt thy Majesty without controul ; But never Reign in Mithridates Soul. Arch. O wonderful effect of highest Virtue ! O Conquest , which deserves more Triumphs than A hundred Victories in Battel gain'd . Ziph. You must , you shall be now the Lord of Rome ; Her Fate shall bow beneath your Awful Scepter . O let me not enjoy the Life you promis'd , The vast possession of the rich Semandra , If I strike not Rome's Eagles to the Earth , Take the Imperial Standard , Chase their Legions , And bring in Triumph all their Leaders bound . Mith. Andravar , haste , Proclaim throughout the City My Son Ziphares General against the Romans . [ Exit Andravar . Come to my Breast once more , my dearest Son ; In spight of Love , thou art again my Child : Thus , with a Father's bowels , I receive thee , Thus melting o're thee with the tenderest Nature , I pray the Gods to Crown thy Youth with glory . Ziph. Oh Happiness ! Oh Joy ! Oh blessed Tears ! Reward this Goodness , Heav'n ; for Poor Ziphares Is now so lost , he knows not what to say . Let me devour your hands with Filial dearness : Were my whole Life to come one heap of Troubles , The pleasure of this moment wou'd suffice , And sweeten all my griefs with its remembrance . Sem. Oh happy hour ! if I not set thee down , The whitest that the Eye of Time e're saw , Let me ne're smile when I remember thee , Nor ev'n in wishes offer at a Joy. [ Shouting within . Mith. Hark! with loud Cryes the Souldiers send their joys : Go then , with the best Blessings I can give thee , Conduct my chearful Subjects to the Field ; Take all the sighing Virgins wishes with thee : Subdue the Consul , and receive Semandra . Ziph. O do not doubt me , my most Royal Lord ; If now I Conquer not , thus helpt , thus promis'd , Thus prais'd , incourag'd , and thus over-blest , I am the Mark , for all The Synod of the Gods to shoot their Fires at . Mith. Semandra , veil your Beauties from my eyes ; I wou'd not trust their Influence , tho I thank The Pow'rs above , so strongly Reigns my Virtue , I think I might , and fear not a relapse : In an Apartment , proper for your grief , You shall be plac'd , till yours and my Ziphares Return in Triumph ; where no eyes shall see Your private walks , nor mark your secret sorrow : I thus divide you , that your meeting may Be yet more grateful . Haste , my Son , to Battel : Be short in parting , for there is no end Of Lovers Farewels . The Powers above preserve you . [ Exit Mith. with Pelop. and Andra. Ziph. Farewel Semandra ; O , if my Father shou'd Fall back from Virtue , 't is an impious thought , Yet I must ask you ; cou'd you in my absence , Solicited by Power and Charming Empire And threatned too by death , forget your Vows ? Cou'd you , I say , abandon poor Ziphares , Who mid'st of Wounds and Death wou'd think on you ; And , whatsoe're Calamity shou'd come , Wou'd keep his love sacred to his Semandra , Like Balm , to heal the heaviest misfortune ? Sem. Your cruel question tears my very Soul : Ah , can you doubt me , Prince ? A Faith , like mine , The softest Passion that e're Woman wept ; But as resolv'd as ever man cou'd boast : Alas , why will you then suspect my Truth ? Yet , since it shows the fearfulness of Love , 'T is just I shou'd endeavour to convince you : Make bare your Sword , my Noble Father , draw . Arch. What wou'dst thou now ? Sem. I swear upon it . Oh , Be witness , Heav'n , and all avenging Powers , Of the true love I give the Prince Ziphares : When I in thought forsake my plighted Faith , Much less in act , for Empire change my love ; May this keen Sword by my own Fathers hand Be guided to my Heart , rip Veins and Arteries , And cut my faithless limbs from this hack'd body , To feed the ravenous Birds , and Beasts of prey . Arch. Now , by my Sword , 't was a good hearty wish ; And , if thou play'st him false , this faithful hand As heartily shall make thy wishes good . Ziph. O hear mine too . If e're I fail in ought That Love requires in strictest , nicest kind ; May I not only be proclaim'd a Coward , But be in deed that most detested thing . May I , in this most glorious War I make , Be beaten basely , ev'n by Glabrio's Slaves , And for a punishment lose both these eyes ; Yet live , and never more behold Semandra . [ Trumpets . Arch. Come , no more wishing ; Hark , the Trumpets call . Sem. Preserve him , Gods , preserve his Innocence ; The Noblest Image of your perfect selves : Farewel ; I 'm lost in Tears . Where are you , Sir ? Arch. He 's gone . Away , my Lord , you 'l never part . Ziph. I go ; but must turn back for one last look : Remember , O remember , dear Semandra , That on thy Virtue all my Fortune hangs , Semandra is the bus'ness of the War , Semandra makes the Fight , draws every Sword : Semandra sounds the Trumpets ; gives the Word . So the Moon Charms her watry World below ; Wakes the still Seas , and makes 'em Ebb and Flow. Exeunt .

ACT III. SCENE I. The Field . Enter Ziphares bloody , with Souldiers . Ziph. ARe these , are these the Masters of the World ? O my brave Friends , how have you fought to day ! You fought , as if you all had Mistresses , Who from some Battlement beheld your Valour , And from your Arms expected all their Fortune : Oh , had you heard 'em clap their tender hands , Beat their white Breasts , and rend the wond'ring Heav'ns With their shrill cryes , you cou'd not have done more ; Your looks were Basilisks to Roman Blood , Your very Breath was as the furious North , And drove the Legions , like the Chaff , before you . Nor was I idle ; witness the wounds I feel , Tho Glabrio , at distance , shun'd the force Of my far-darted Javelin , yet it struck A Tribune down , and did not useless fall . What more remains , but that we haste to meet Victorious Archelaus , plunder their Tents , And loaded with the Laurel we have won , March to Synope , shouting all the way , Long live the King of Kings , great Mithridates ? Enter Archelaus , attended . Arch. O Prince ! thou Life , thou Soul of all the Army , To whose dear hand thrice I did owe my life , When thrice this day my Horse was kill'd beneath me ; O Renown'd day ! this one day of thy Valour Has drown'd in dark Oblivion all my Wars : Like Time it self thy Glory shall run on , While mine , my fifty Iron-years of battel , Lies smeer'd in dust , and moulder into Ashe s. Ziph. Yes , Father , now I cou'd grow proud of Conquest , Since it must give your Daughter to my Arms. Methought to day , when I had given the word , Semandra , Victory declar'd her self E're yet a Death by any hand was given : Ev'n now my blood more heats my youthful veins , My Cheeks grow redder , with the expectation Of Love's dear promis'd joys , than when I strove In flame of fight , with all my toil upon me , To cut my way , and win the famous Field . Arch. Grant me , you Gods , before the hand of Death Comes , like Eternal Night with her dark Wing , To bar the comfortable light for ever From these my aged eyes ; O let me see A Grandchild of my Princes Sacred Blood , To call him mine , to feel him in my Arms , To hear his innocent talk , and see him smile , While I tell Stories of his Fathers Valour , Which he in time must learn to imitate : Grant me but this , you Gods , and make an end , Soon as you please , of this old happy man. Ziph. I feel a gladness lightning in my breast , The kindled joy disperses quickly through me , And says , E're yet the setting-Sun has quench'd His Love in his cold Mistress Bed , Semandra shall be mine ; ev'n all Semandra : The thought is Extasie ! these Arms shall hold her Fast to my throbbing Breast ; these ravish'd eyes Gaze till they 're blind , with looking on her Blushes ; These stifling Lips shall smother all her Smiles , And follow her with such pursuit of Kisses , That ev'n our Souls shall lose themselves in pleasure . Arch. First , send a Flying Messenger , with news Of our great Victory . Ziph. Ziphares self Must be the Harbinger of his own joy : I 'll go , with the best-mounted Cavalry , While you behind conduct , on easie March , The weari'd Army . Once more let me lock My Father thus . Arch. My heart bodes happiness . Ziph. 'T were sin to doubt , since Fortune had no hand In what our Swords by dint of Valour won : She to the Brave was ever a curst Foe ; But I at last have bound her to my Chariot , By Conquering Virtue to be drag'd along ; And while her broken VVheel is proudly born , She shall be forc'd our Triumph to adorn . Exeunt severally .

SCENE II. The Palace-Garden . Enter Pharnaces and Andravar . Andr. THen there is hope , my Lord , th' unsetled King May yet relapse , and fall to Love again ? Phar. 'T is certain that the end will Crown our wishes . Late , as I pry'd about Semandra's Gardens , Mad that our Plot a-ground , so plough'd to bear , Shou'd yield no Fruit , still thoughtful how to work him , And watching for some accident , to fit Our purpose , and redeem the last design , I chanc'd to spy the fair Semandra sleeping ; But , in that posture , she appear'd so lovely , Bold as I am , she Charm'd me into wonder : But strait thy General came to rescue me , VVho took the hint immediately , and went To see the King. Andr. I guess the good design , To draw him on to see our beauteous Foe . Phar. You have it ; and 't is more than half effected . I saw 'em walk : Pelopidas , by his action , I know did kindle him with wondrous praise , But once to view the bright Semandra sleeping ; But the King stopt , as if he fear'd to go ; Then side-long glanc'd , and sigh'd , and walk'd again , Rubbing his hand upon his Face , to hide The rising Blushes : but , behold 'em here ! Enter Mithridates , Pelopidas . Mith. What are her Charms to me ? Pelop. 'T is true , they are not ; And yet , methinks , the sight might draw down Jove â�� Yet , I 'de not ask you , for the World , to see her ; But that I think you 're Master of your promise : I thought your God-like frame , your strength of mind Not to be shook , therefore I woo'd you , Sir , In Curiosity , to see a Wonder ; But , if you doubt your self . Mith. I think I need not : I think my Vertue is resolv'd ; but yet , I fear , and therefore I will go no farther . Pelop. 'T is well resolv'd ; and yet , methinks , 't wou'd raise Your pity , more than love , to see the tears Force through her snowy lids their melting course , To lodge themselves on her red murm'ring lips That talk such mournful things ; when strait , a gale Of starting sighs carries those Pearls away , As Dews , by Winds , are wafted from the Flowers . Mith. 'T is wondrous pitiful ; by Heav'n , it is ! I feel her sorrow working here ; it calls Fire to my breast , and water to my eyes , And , if I durst . Pelop. If you the least suspect Your temper , if the smallest Breath of Love But stir your heart ; let me Conjure you , Sir , Not to go on : the dazling manner will Disturb your quiet , and confound your Reason . Mith. 'T will be as well , tho I believe no Power Can change my Virtue , yet 't will be as well If you relate exactly what you saw . Pelop. Behold her then upon a Flowry Bank , With her soft sorrows lull'd into a slumber , The Summers heat had , to her natural blush , Added a brighter , and more tempting red ; The Beauties of her Neck and naked Breasts , Lifted by inward starts , did rise and fall With motion that might put a Soul in Statues : The matchless whiteness of her foulded Arms , That seem'd t' imbrace the Body whence they grew , Fix'd me to gaze o're all that Field of Love ; While to my ravish'd eyes officious winds , Waving her Robes , display'd such handsom Limbs , As Artists wou'd in Polish'd Marble give The Wanton Goddess , when supinely laid She Charms her Gallant God to new enjoyment . Mith. Something there is stirs mightily my Breast ; 'T is Pity , sure , it can be only Pity : Who knows , but that her multiplying fears , And cruel griefs , in time , may give her death ? 'T were most Inhumane therefore not to go , And comfort her , with praises of Ziphares : I 'll tell her how he Conquers , how he comes Triumphant from the Consul's overthrow , To take the Noble Wreaths he has deserv'd , Embraces from her Arms ; Circles more rich Than all the Crowns my fruitless Valour won . Yet , stay ; I will not speak of him : 't were rude To break her rest ; I 'll see her , when she wakes . Pelop. Then you dare trust your heart ? Mith. 'T is sure I dare : By Heav'n , my Friends , I dare : I feel such strong Collected Manly Virtue , that I 'll on . Pelop. Oh , sacred Sir , turn back : if , Conquer'd by Her Beauties , you shou'd love again , I know Pelopidas must bear the blame of all ; Therefore , my Lord. Mith. Away ; by Heav'n , I 'll go . Pelop. Oh , 't is impossible , if once you lov'd But you must certainly relapse : Therefore your fearful Servant kneels and begs You wou'd turn back : Alas , he 's conscious now What a gross fault his foolish tongue committed , By tempting unawares your Reason forth . Mith. I 'll see her ; yes , it is resolv'd , I 'll see her , With all that World of Charms thou hast describ'd ; Therefore arise , and lead the way . Pelop. Alas , My Lord , I fear you ; but it is your pleasure , And I 'm your Slave . Mith. Reply not ; but obey . [ Exeunt Mith. Pelop. Phar. I feel a pleasant expectation breeding ; His starts , his stops : by Mars , he loves her still : Joyn then the much prevailing circumstance , Of Time , and Place ; the absence of my Brother , To make Guilt bold ; the loneness of her Mansion : Both strong Incentives to a violent Lover . Andr. Then Love has blest you on the other hand , Since , by our subtil practices , we brought Monima to disgrace ; with whom you may Divert , till we have gain'd our full Revenge . I have the guard of her . Phar. I 'm glad thou hast . Then , to compleat the ruine of Ziphares , I hear his Mother , fearful of th' Event Of this long War , and loving him as life , With Pompey holds private Intelligence , And has , to Rome , giv'n all those Castles up , Which she had charge of , to preserve her Son. Andr. This , when occasion calls , I 'll aggravate , To mad your Father more . But see , the General ! Enter Pelopidas . Pelop. He 's gone ; he 's ruin'd ; quite transported with The Extasie of Love : I left him kneeling Close to her side , winding about his Heart Such Nets of Beauty , as must hold him fast ; Therefore , when he approaches us for comfort , Showing his griefs , and seeking shroud for guilt , Let us incourage , to our utmost power , What e're his Violent Love dares put in act . Enter Mithridates . Mith. Torment of heart ! Oh , feeble Virtue ! hence , I blow thee from the Palace , to the Cottage ; To build in Hearts of Hinds , bless their rude hands VVith thy lean recompence of endless labour : For me , since I have burst th' ungrateful Chain That held me to thee like a shackled Slave , I will enjoy what e're the Gods have given , And surfeit on the Beauties of Semandra . Oh , my dear Son , my best , my own Pharnaces ; By Heav'n , thou never did'st oppose my pleasure , As does Ziphares : but I 'll cast him out , That Bosom-Wolf , who laps my dearest blood , And lodg thee there ; thou wilt not rack me thus . Phar. The Gods forbid . But why , Sir , will you bear it ? Pelop. I cou'd not think you lov'd her at this rate ; Therefore I hope forgotten Virtue yielded To bolder pleasures , and you quench'd your fires . Mith. Drawn by resistless Love , I put one knee To Earth , and gently bowing down my head , First took at distance the sweet-wafted breath ; Which blew my flames to such a raging heighth , That streight I fell upon her Balmy Lips , And glew'd my own so fiercely , that she wak'd : And , starting up , soon vanish'd from my sight , Leaving me dumb , pale , languishing , and dying , Rent with her Charms , distracted with the rage Of my desires , and torn with cruel Love. Pelop. Why stopt you there ? I wou'd have follow'd her Into her inmost Closet ; pardon me , If I prove passionate to see you thus : Better a million of such slight-soul'd things Were ravish'd , massacred , than Mithridates Suffer one moments care . Phar. I have no patience . By your great Glory , 't was not Nobly done : I' th' midst of groans , and cryes , and gushing tears , I wou'd have ravish'd her ; â�� your Royal Hand , Lock'd in her Amber-Hair , shou'd then have forc'd her ; Who knows , but opposition mounts the joy ? Like that Athenian Tyrant , who ne're took His Barge for pleasure , but in highest Storms ; Then wou'd he stand like Neptune on his Deck , And laugh to see the Dolphins back the billows . Andr. Say but the word , I 'll fetch her from the Altar To your imbraces : never did I see So strange an alteration ; your fierce eye , Which , like the Sun at Noon , none cou'd behold But with a snatch of light , and then be dazled : Now , like a cold and drouzy Winter-star , Bears a bleak brightness . O decay of lustre ! Mith. I am not as I was . â�� Ha! whence this noise ? [ Shout within . Ex. Pelop. and Andra. Phar. My Lord , this Passion has unman'd you quite : Forgetful of the glorious Fields you won , You lose your dear bought Honours in a day , And sell your Fame to your ambitious Son. The Coward Glabrio , whom by flying Agents I hear , in divers Skirmishes he vanquish'd , Has swell'd him so , and blown him to that heighth , He rides upon the shoulders of his Army : They heave him , as he were a God , in Air , And dance before him , shouting in their Songs , You are their Saturn , but the Prince their Jove , All that their waning Faith can give Ambition ; And he too laughs , to hear the thundring Titles . Mith. And , for a recompence , shall I bestow Upon this Traytor , all I love on Earth ? No , my Pharnaces , I have mark'd him dead , If that Semandra's loss can bring his ruine : Not but the thought I go with shows me just To what she shall appear : the Noble wile Kills by her seeming Infidelity . Monima too must perish for dishonour ; But rather to make way for my new Love , And fix the giddy People on my side . [ Shouts again . Again these shouts ? Phar. I guess Ziphares comes . Mith. Down , strugling Nature ; Die , die , thou Ravisher of my Repose ; Be strangled in me all remorse , all thoughts Of pity ; yet I will be calmly cruel , Nor shall he find the depth of my Revenge . Enter Andravar . Andr. Your Son has Conquer'd , mightiest of Kings ; But by a way so infamously base , I fear my doom will scarce be less than death For the relation . Mith. Monstrous may it be ; For I so hate him now , I wish for Crimes Of deepest grain , for colour to his Fate . Andr. His Royal Mother , the False Stratonice , To whom you gave in Custody Inora , The strongest , richest Fort of all the East , E're he with Glabrio joyn'd , to Rome did yield That wondrous mass of treasure , with her Honour . Mith. Curst State of Monarchs ! Let the judging World Now weigh our pleasures , with our mightier troubles , And find us happier than the rest of men ! False Beauty , thou shalt die , thou bane of greatness ; Or , if I cannot reach thy fickle being , I 'll punish thee by ruining Ziphares . Andr. This have I learnt by frequent Messengers , Who warrant with their lives , how by consent Glabrio but skirmish'd with the Prince your Son , And was by Stratonice brib'd before . Mith. Plots , Treasons , horrid black Conspiracies ! Mother and Son , Oh Parricides ! combine ; But if you scape me , may I sleep my Reign out . Enter Pelopidas . What says Pelopidas ? What of Ziphares ? Bring'st thou more matter for my Curses ? Speak . Pelop. He comes , my Lord , and with a Port so proud , As if he had subdu'd the spacious World , And all Synope's Streets are fill'd with such A glut of People , you wou'd think some God Had conquer'd in their Cause , and they thus rank'd That he might make his entrance on their heads : While from the Scaffolds , Windows , tops of Houses , Are cast such gaudy show'rs of Garlands down , That ev'n the Croud appear like Conquerors , And the whole City seems like one vast Meadow , Set all with Flowers , as a clear Heav'n with Stars . Mith. Ungrateful Slaves ! by Mars , when I return'd , Worn with the hardship of a ten-years War , My Army 's heavy-gaited , bruis'd and hack'd , With cutting Roman lives ; They ne're receiv'd me with a pomp like this . Pelop. Nay , as I heard , e're he the City enter'd , Your Subjects lin'd the ways for many furlongs ; The very Trees bore men : and , as our God , When from the Portal of the East he dawns , Beholds a thousand Birds upon the boughs , To welcom him with all their warbling throats , And prune their feathers in his Golden Beams ; So did your Subjects , in their gaudy'st trim , Upon the pendant branches , speak his praise . Mothers , who cover'd all the banks beneath , Did rob their crying Infants of the breast , Pointing Ziphares out to make 'em smile ; And climbing Boys stood on their Father's shoulders , Answering their shouting Sires with tender cryes , To make the Consort up of general joy . Mith. What , will you bear your part too ? Oh the Gods ! He is transported with the ample Theam , And plays the Orator ! Plagues rot thy Tongue , And blasted be the Lungs that breath'd his welcom , Perish the Bodies that went forth to meet him , A prey for Worms , to stink in hollow ground . O , Viper ! Villain ! not content to take My Love , but Life ! wilt thou unthrone me too ? Shall Mithridates live to be depos'd ; A Stale , the Image of what once he was ; The very Ghost of his departed Greatness ; A thing for Slaves to be familiar with , To gape , to nod , and sleep in my scorn'd face ? Awake , awake , thou sluggard Majesty , Rouze thee to Act ; tho all the Elements , Tho Heav'n and Hell , Subjects and Sons conspire , With Fate thy Empires fall ; oppose their will : Dare to the last , and be a Monarch still . [ Exit . Pelop. What think you now ? Phar. I think , for my Revenge , For any act that witty horrour asks , Thou art an Instrument so black and fit , The Furies joyn'd in Council cou'd not match thee . But see , Ziphares comes : with what a Train Of Priests ! nay , then the God must be Adored . The Scene being drawn , represents Ziphares's Triumph , which is a Street full of Pageants , crouded with People , who from the Windows fling down Garlands : others dance before him , while the Priests sing , Ziphares resting under a Canopy of State. Ziph. Enough , my Friends , my Noble Countrymen , I am indebted to your Bounties ever ; But let me now Conjure you , cease the noise Of your loud thanks , lest we disturb the King : We 're near the Palace , and my boding heart Says he interprets rudely this our Triumph Which you , against my will , have forc'd upon me ; Therefore Ziphares begs you to retire : By the small Victories my Arms have gain'd , If you have any Love , as much you show , Let me intreat you all , by that affection , Ev'n now , upon this instant , to disband . All. Long live our King , and Noble Prince Ziphares . [ Exeunt shouting . Phar. Welcom , Ziphares , welcom to Synope ; Still , when Fate calls thee forth , may'st thou return , Thus swell'd , thus Lord Triumphant o're the Romans . Ziph. Had I subdu'd the World , I shou'd detest The Title of Triumpher , and scarce think That man my friend who praises at your rate . Pelop. Had not the Monster multitude receiv'd you Sir , With such a monstrous State , methinks , Like Hercules , you shou'd have slain the Hydra . Andr. Heard you but Sir , how , with hundred mouths , It worship'd , as you were already Crown'd : Long live our King , the Noble Prince Ziphares ? Ziph. What , Villains ! Ha! Gods , have I flesh and bear it ? Pharnaces , off ; by my just wrath they die . [ Exeunt Pel. and Andr. Phar. The King ! remember how this Rage will sound . Ziph. O the curst Traytors ! Brother , beware of 'em : How e're they crouch at present to your Fortune , For I perceive your favour warm'd the Snakes To stir , they have no sense of gratitude : I found 'em base , and therefore did discard 'em ; For which , the Slaves have sworn me mortal hate ; But if I live I 'll crush ' em . Phar. You 'l to the King ? Ziph. I will. Methinks this meeting was unlucky ; My heart misgives me more , and higher beats With this last heat , than all the toil of War : Perhaps , they move the King ; but sure not much : Or if they do , tho our great Father frowns , One smile , one tear of joy from my Semandra Will wash the anger of the Gods away . [ Exit . Phar. Go , and the welcom that I wish attend thee . Of all my Elder Brothers , he remains To cross my hopes , and bar me from the Crown : Whom yet I doubt not , by my Engins help , To burst in sunder , and then gild my Brows . Methinks I shou'd become the Golden-Hoop That circles in one quarter of the Globe : I have it just ; my Scepter waving thus , The starting Princes run to clear my way . Enter Mithridates , Semandra , Pelopidas , Andravar , Guards . But hold , my Father comes , with sad Semandra ! Weep on ; while I go laugh my cares away With Monima , who must or yield or die . [ Exit . Mith. Has not the Traytor won my Subjects hearts ? Has not his Mother basely too , betray'd me ? Has he not dar'd to Triumph without leave ? Which , when my faithful'st worthi'st Councellors Rebuk'd him for , with mild and gentle Language , He redned with proud anger , drew his Sword ; Then , like a monstrous Parricide , came on Here , to my Palace , Heading the wild Croud , So through the Bodies of my Friends to pass , Till with his barbarous hand he reach'd my Bosom . Sem. 'T is false ; 't is all most horrid Perjury ; And the curs'd spotted Souls of these vile Traytors Shall burn for this beneath : I know they hate The Gallant Prince , and now conspire against him ; With words , made up with all the blasts of Hell They strike your sacred Ears , bewitch your Senses , And with those Spells that foulest Treason hatcht , Stagger your Royal Reason . O yet hear me ! Mith. From what I have decreed , no Charm , no Pow'r , No Eloquence ; not Mercy 's self , adorn'd In all Semandra's Beauties , in her tears , Prostrate upon the Earth , and hanging on My knees , nay dying with her grief , shall move me . Sem. I now believe you are not to be mov'd ; Therefore with my undaunted Innocence , I stand to hear the Doom you have decreed . Mith. If when Ziphares , at your first appearance , Runs to your Arms , fir'd with expected joys , You thrust him not away , and slight him strangely , With all the marks of the most proud disdain , That a most faithless and ambitious Woman Cou'd show to gain the Empire of the World ; He shall be stab'd , be murder'd by my Guards , Before your eyes . Sem. O , 't is not possible , That you can mean the dreadful things you speak : You speak it but to try the poor Semandra . Mith. Mark me most heedfully , for 't is most true , And sooner shall a dooming God recal His Stygian Oath , than I renounce my Vow : He dies , I say , if you receive him not With all the coldness of a fair Apostate , Whose Chastity the poyson of sweet Power Had brought to ruine , whose protested Faith The Charms of Empire had quite turn'd to Air. Sem. Gods , do you hear the Tyrant ? Mith. Do you hear me ? If to your words , which must make plain your falshood , Your looks shou'd give the Lye , by amorous glances , And languishings , for Lovers eyes will talk ; Or , as you speak your hate , mixt sighs arise , Or faultring speech , or any other mark , To show that you are forc'd to what you say ; Then , from the place where I shall stand conceal'd , I 'll give the Signal to my waiting Guards , Who in a moment shall destroy your Lover , When all your tears and sighs shall not recal him . Sem. I 'll die , I 'll die , ten thousands deaths I 'll die , Rather than meet him thus : what , after all The dreadful Imprecations that I made him , And swore upon my Fathers Sword , a Faith , A spotless Love , for ever to endure ; Shall I abjure my Oaths , and to his face Protest a falshood , and belye my heart ? Miih . Take your own course ; I have sworn . Sem. O Tyranny ! What , shall I meet him after all his hardships , After the heats and colds , and smarting wounds , VVhich for my sake he patiently endur'd , Still chearing up himself , that after all The blood he lost , he shou'd enjoy Semandra , His gentle Mistress one day shou'd reward him , For the long mischiefs of a cruel VVar ? Mith. I have not leisure now to hear complaints : Either resolve t' obey , and speedily , Or you and I must never see him more . Sem. Stay , Royal Sir , come back : ne're see him more ! And if I die , rather than see him thus , VVill you not save his life ? Mith. Your death , Semandra ! The very mention hastens on his fate . Sem. Alas , alas ! I fear , if I but look As if I knew him not , or had forgot him , So nice and tender is his love , So soft his disposition , 't will be fatal . Mith. Then , you resolve his death ? Sem. It cannot be . No , I will see him , tho I must be cruel ; But bate a little of your Imposition : An unkind word will kill the poor Ziphares , As sure as all the hate which you injoyn me . Enter Ismenes . Isme. The Prince Ziphares begs admittance of Your Majesty . Mith. You must retire , Semandra . Sem. O Torment ! O the Racks of Love distrest Like mine ! of Passion at a loss like mine ! Help me , you Gods , or I shall faint with bearing . [ Exit . Mith. Call in the Prince . â�� What , Nature yet again ? I charge thee trouble my repose no more . Enter Ziphares . Ziph. 'T is well , you Powers that pry into our hearts , Well have I lost my dearest blood in battel , Since once again I see my Royal Father . Mith. Ziphares , rise ; I hear you have fought well , Too well perhaps for Mithridates peace : You Triumph'd too , I hear . Ziph. Alas , my Lord , I fear Pelopidas and Andravar Have been too busie with your Ear. By my best hopes , by your most Sacred Life , I wou'd not Triumph till your Orders came ; At least , they told me , that they came from you : If they were false , â�� Mith. They were your Friends who brought Those Orders ; therefore you are not in fault : Nor ought you share the Crimes of Stratonice . Ziph. Of Stratonice ! Ah , what has she done ? Ah , Sir , what Villain has tradue'd my Mother ? Give me to know â�� Mith. Perhaps you 're ignorant : Wou'd I had been so too ; but to the purpose . I promis'd , when the Consul was o'recome , To give Semandra to you : â�� Seem not sad , You love your Father well ; but , Prince , I know Your Passion for Semandra is the highest : I 'll send her to you , if you please retain her . [ Exit . Ziph. Is this then thy reward , unnecessary Virtue ? Why do we wear thee thus , to our undoing ? O , inauspicious Stars ! thy Father hates thee , Because thou art too good ! went it not so ? I fought too well ! His eye disdain'd me too , And held my High Desert at hateful distance : But , let it be , there 's satisfaction still In Innocence : and conscious Glory tells me , My Griefs shall fly , like Clouds , before Semandra . Enter Semandra . But see , the Sun that drives ' em ! O my Star ! Thou Day , that gild'st my little World of comfort , Give me thy warmth ; let me , upon thy Bosom , Breath all my Victories . Alas , the King , My cruel Father , â�� Ha! what now , Semandra ? Not fly into my arms ! O all you Pow'rs That Nurs'd our tender Loves , she turns away ! Hast thou too caught the coldness of my Father ? Clear me , you Gods , and fix my Understanding To this one view , left I mistake all measure , And run to madness . What , not look upon me ? By Heav'n , if thus , if thus I shou'd behold thee , Tho in a Dream , 't wou'd make me wish to sleep for ever . O my dear Life ! thou shalt not hide thy kindness ; But to dissemble thus a moment longer , Wou'd quite destroy the Passionate Ziphares . I 'll force thy hand , thus , to my trembling lips . Sem. The kiss you ravish , Prince , is dangerous ; And let me now Conjure you , by your Love , If you can love after what I injoyn you , Upon your life , offer the like no more . O Man me , Reason , with thy utmost force ; Or Passion , with the dreadful starts it makes , Will soon Divorce my Soul from this weak Body . What hast thou said ? and , Ah! what have I heard ? Fair cruel faithless , for the blood I lost , Dost thou thus meet me ? Raise thy eyes from Earth , And tell me , Have I , Ah , have I deserv'd This usage from my dear ador'd Semandra ? Sem. You deserve all things ; but you must not ask My Love , unless you wish me most unhappy . Ziph. O , you good Gods ! is it then come to this ? Shall I , shall I â�� but speak it once again , Unhappy ! did'st thou , cou'dst thou say unhappy ? Sem. I 'de have you strive , my Lord , to love me less . Ziph. If you wou'd have it so , be witness , Heav'n , If for your quiet you injoyn me this , I 'll strive ; but ( oh ! ) 't is most impossible : Ah , may I not presume to ask , if this The reason be why I shou'd love you less , That the too happy King may love you more ? â�� â�� Your silence does confirm Ziphares lost : And all that I cou'd fear is come upon me . Ah , Barbarous King ! I 'll bear thy Bonds no longer ; But cast off Duty , as thou hast all Love , Thou bloody Author of this wretched Being . Tyrant â�� Sem. Take heed , Ziphares , how you wrong your Father : I 've heard you give another Character , So diff'rent from this last , of Mithridates , Methinks you scarce appear the same Ziphares Whom once I knew . Ziph. It is most sure I do not ; But , to convince me more , quite to compleat The cruel sum of all my desp'rate woes , And sink me ever ; what , Madam , have you heard Me say ? or , rather , what is 't you wou'd say In ill-time prais'd , of this inhumane Father ? Sem. Have I not heard you speak the tender'st things , How , but for some few faults , so small , that scarce The Eye of Envy or of Hate cou'd find 'em , He wou'd be perfect as the Gods themselves ; A King so awful , that the Romans fear'd him , A King so merciful , Barbarians lov'd him ? A King â�� Ziph. No more ; I am confirm'd : she 's lost : The King ! she 's gone ; the Beauty of the Earth , All that in Woman cou'd be Virtue call'd Is lost . Corrupted are her Noble Faculties , The temper of her Soul is quite infected : Inconstancy , the Plague that first or last Taints the whole Sex , the catching Court-disease , Has spotted all her white , her Virgin Beauties . Sem. You think me false â�� Ah , 't is but just you shou'd ! But , Prince , I swear , I am not what you think me ; Yet never can be yours . Ziph. O confusion ! Never ! O horror ? never can be yours ! Thou tear'st my heart ! call back those dreadful words ; Tho thou art going , yet thou art not gone : Ah , e're it be too late , behold me gasping . Come to my Arms ; Oh , leave me not for ever : Fall on my Bosom , I 'll forget thy weakness ; Try to deceive my self with specious Reasons , Never upbraid thee that thou once wert false , But with my tears wash all thy stains away . ( Counsel ; Sem. Since tears ( O help me Heav'n ! ) are vain , take , take my Chear your sad heart , and grieve , Oh grieve no more ! Ziph. Then thou art lost ? resolv'd upon my ruine ? Sem. Your life 's too precious : I resolve against it ! Not for ten thousand Worlds â�� What was I saying ? [ Aside . What shall I say ? Live , live , thou lost Ziphares . Ziph. No , thou perfidious Maid , thou wretched Beauty , Ziphares loves thee still ; so well he loves thee , That he will die , to rid thee of a torment . Where are thy Vows ? O think upon thy Father , How this will cut him , this thy cruel Change , And break his aged heart : or , e're he dies , Think , if his kindled rage shou'd execute What he has sworn , to hack thy beauteous Limbs , Tear thy false flesh into a thousand pieces . Sem. If that were all my fear ! â�� Ziph. What , hardned ! Oh my Stars ! So quickly perfect in the cursed Trade ? I shall go mad with the Imagination . O heart ! tho Heav'n had op'd the pregnant Clouds , And teem'd , with all the never-erring Gods , To swear on Earth Semandra had been false , Semandra had been false to her Ziphares , I wou'd not have believ'd . Sem. I cannot hear this grief , nor must I cure it . Farewel â�� O Prince â�� Instruct me , Heav'n to save him . Aside . Ziph. Stay thee ; there 's something , e're we part for ever , That I wou'd speak : if I cou'd make it way . Sem. Speak then , and speak the mournful'st things you can , To break both hearts . Ziph. Thou hast undone me ; like a Silver-Frost , Thou com'st upon the Flower of all my Youth , To nip the tender Bud , and blast my Glory : Yet I will live , Semandra , I will live , To save thee from thy Father's cruel rage ; For , wicked as thou art , with grief , I feel My Soul looks after thee , and seeks thy safety . Sem. I shall not hold ; I feel the climbing grief : My eyes grow full , and I shall give him Death . Aside . Ziph. Farewel . Thus , kneeling at thy feet , I pour These parting tears ; and sure , the happy King , In pity will allow this dying Kiss , Which my cold lips print on thy faithless hand . Oh , all my Vows , for ever here I leave you ; And , since we never , never must behold Each other more , I 'll breath'em once again : Farewel , Semandra . O , thou 'lt never find , In all thy search of Love , a heart like mine . Once more , Farewel for ever , false Semandra . What ? yet again thy name ? will my Charm'd tongue Sound nothing but Semandra ? Oh , Semandra ! Exit . Enter Mithridates , with Priests . Sem. The cruel Task is done ; and I can hold No longer ! â�� Come back Semandra , Empire , Empire calls thee , Op'n thy eyes to meet thy coming glory ! O barb'rous Prince , may I not die in quiet ? Mith. Talk not of dying , See this Holy Man â�� Sem. Holy , Profane , All things are now alike to my distraction . Mith. He instantly shall joyn your hand with mine . Sem. What means the Tyrant ? Mith. You are now our Queen . Sem. First let me seek a Dragon in his Den ; Imbrace an Aspic , curl with Basilisks , E're I give up this Body , this poor Beauty To any but my Lord , the wrong'd Ziphares . Mith. I guess you wou'd not , by your free consent ; But I shall force , if you refuse to yield : This moment I will take you in my Chariot , Streight to the Temple , and in publick Wed you ; Tho you refuse to joyn in Ceremony , Instead of sacred words venting loud Curses , 'T will not avail ; for when the Mystery's done , I 'll bear you back , and as my Queen enjoy you . Sem. I will be drag'd ; die stifled , with my grief . Mith. You have the Will , but not the Power to die . Sem. None ! is there none ? no pitying God awake ? And are your Priests Confederate in my ruine ? They sure will tell you of your Tyranny , And fear too much the anger of the Heav'ns , To force a helpless Virgin : they will speak Your Crimes abroad ; will you not , Holy Men ? Mith. Let me but hear the Holiest of 'em cross me , By Heav'n , he shall go Sacrifice beneath : Therefore away , Priest , forward to the Temple . Sem. Help , help , you Gods. Mith. All thought of help is vain . Give me your beauteous hand , and willingly , Or here are arms to bear you . Sem. Let 'em be ; Call all your Armies hither to your aid , I will not stir , nor give this trembling hand To gain an Empire : thus , to th' Earth , I 'll grow One piece . O , root me here , some pitying God , And let me lose my being , to escape him . Mith. Andravar , raise her gently from the ground : [ They take her in their arms . Take help , and bring her softly to my Chariot . Sem. Stay , Mithridates ; hear me but one word ; One moments stay : ev'n Malefactors are Allow'd to speak before their Execution ; And shall not I ? I , who am Innocent ? 'T is not to thee , but to the Gods , I bow : Behold ; â�� but see , from you , from you they take me : O save me thus by cruel men betray'd ; Revenge your selves , and right a Ravish'd Maid .

ACT IV. SCENE I. Mithridates incompass'd with the Ghosts of his Sons , who set Daggers to his Breast , and vanish . WHat Hoa ! Pelopidas ! why , Andravar ! Haste to my help . Enter Pelopidas , Andravar . Pelop. What wou'd your Majesty ? Mith. I wou'd , what I must ne're expect on Earth , The Peace I had . Come nearer . Oh , my Friends ! If Fate did e're foreshow a Doom in sleep , Mine is at hand . Last night , you well remember , I bore Semandra from the Thund'ring Gods , Who shook the deep Foundations of the Temple , With the reports of Wrath Divine ; yet I , This desperate wretch , through streets of fire , did bear her Back , in a Swoon , to my most inward Closet : But there you left me ; left me to the rage Of monstrous Love , which , in the midst of faintings , With Transports yet unheard-of , forc'd a Joy Whose momentary pleasures will heap on me Whole Worlds of Furies , Hells of endless horrour . Pelop. But , Sir , the Dream ; that may divert your cares . Mith. Divert ' em ! rather let me gather all my courage To Bulwark in my Soul. O plant me round With your kind Bodies ; blunt , if possible , Heav'ns whetted vengeance , while I tell the Vision . After the dreadful Extasie was over , The Ravish'd Maid , half-dead with shrieking pray'rs , Burst , at the last , from my relenting Arms , Ran to my Sword , of which when I disarm'd her , She fled the Room , with cries like one distracted . Prest with Remorse , I rested on my Couch , And slept ; but oh , a Dream so full of terrour , The pale , the trembling midnight Ravisher Ne're saw , when cold Lucretia's Mourning-Shadow His Curtains drew , and lash'd him in the eyes With her bright Tresses , dabbled in her blood . Pelop. I have heard of Dreams that have prov'd Ominous ; But I cou'd never fix my Faith on Fancies . Mith. Methought , by Heav'nly Order I was doom'd To seek my Fate alive in th' other World : Streight , like a Feather , I was borne by Winds , To a steep Promontory's top , from whence I saw the very Mouth of Op'ning Hell ; Shooting so fast through the void Caves of night , I had not time to ponder of my passage . I shot the Lake of Oaths , where Fleeting Ghosts , Whose Bodies were unbury'd , beg'd for wastage : Then was I thrown down the Infernal Courts , Infinite fathom , till I soar'd again To the bright Heav'nly Plains , the happy Fields . Andr. I wonder , that the brittle thred of thought Shou'd hold in such a maze ! Mith. Oh , now it comes . After that Heav'nly Sounds had Charm'd my Ears , Methought I saw the Spirits of my Sons , Slain by my jealousie of their Ambition , Who shriek'd , He 's come ! our cruel Father 's come ! Arm , arm , they cry'd , through all th' enamell'd Grove : Streight had their cries alarm'd the wounded Host Of all those Romans , massacred in Asia : I heard the empty clank of their thin Arms , And tender voices cry'd , Lead , Pompey , lead . Streight they came on , with Chariots , Horse and Foot. When I had leisure to discern their Chief , Methought that Pompey was my Son Ziphares ; Who cast his dreadful Pile , and pierc'd my heart : Then such a din of Death , Swords , Spears and Javelins , Clatter'd about me , that I wak'd with terrour , And found my self extended on the Floor . Enter Pharnaces . Phar. Arm , arm , Great Mithridates , the big War Comes with vast leaps , bounding o're all the East , Which crouches to the Torrent : Pompey comes ; Pompey the Great , saluted Emperour , And , for some years , destin'd to govern all Th' Italian Armies , with such full Commission , As yet was never granted to a Roman . Pompey , so young , so soft , in shining Courts , That all the Roman Ladies languish for him : Pompey , so fierce in Camps , so brave in Fields , The very Boys , like Cupids , drest in Arms , Clap their young harness'd thighs , and strut to Battel : Pompey , Rome's Darling , and Fame's Eldest Son , Proclaims with Mithridates mortal War. Mith. Were all well here , what force , what Roman Arms , What General , marching at the Head of Millions , Cou'd daunt the bold , the forward Mithridates ? But here , Pharnaces , in my guilty Bosom , The fatal Foe does undermine my quiet ; Black Legions , are my thoughts ; not Pompey , but Ziphares comes , with all his wrongs , for Arms , Like the Lieutenant of the Gods , against me : Semandra too , like bleeding Victory , Stands on his side , and cries out , Kill , kill , kill That cursed Parricide , that Ravisher . Oh Heav'n , sustain me , or I shall go mad . My ugly guilt lies in my conscious face , And I am vanquish'd , slain with Bosom-war . Phar. 'T is much beneath your Majesty , to alarmâ�� Your self with fears . Mith. Pharnaces , thou' rt ignorant ! I tell thee , Boy , remorse and upstart fear Oppresses me , in spight of all my knowledge : Tho none of those that boast Philosophy Has made a deeper search in Nature's Womb Than I ; ( the mid-night Moon has seen my watchings ) I tell thee , none can name her infinite seeds Like me ; nor better knows her sparks of light , Those Gems that shine in the blew-Ring of Heav'n ; None knows more Reasons for , or against yon' first Bright Cause , can talk of accidents Above me : yet I tell thee , once again , There is a Thorn , call'd Conscience , makes its way Through all the Fence of Pleasure , fortifi'd With reasons , that this ill seem'd good to me , And stings thy guilty Father to the Soul. Pelop. After the fierceness of uncommon pleasure , A sudden heaviness is natural . Andr. Not but the fading Spirits will revive . Mith. Never , oh never : nor did I enjoy Expected pleasure , tho these hands did hold , All night , her panting Beauties to my breast ; But , oh ! what joy , what pleasure , what content , Cou'd my griev'd-heart receive in ravish'd kindness ! Her lips , which if Ziphares had been there , Wou'd sure have shot their gleamy warmth at distance , Were cold to me , as Odours are in Frost : Her face , like weeping Marble , damp'd my flames ; And , as I drew her trembling to my Arms , She fainted still , and woo'd me with such wailings , Such languishings , and broken sighs , to leave her ; That , had not more than monstrous appetite Transported me , the Rose had been unblasted . Phar. You think of her too much : the Sex of Women , The ravish'd Beauties of the Earth together , Deserve not half the grief that clouds your Brow. Pelop. Your Subjects want you , to defend their lives ; Each Citizen , in Armour clad , defends His Houshold-Gods , standing to guard his door , And cries , a Leader , let us to the Wars . Mith. The Thunderbolt of Mithridates battel , That tore the Roman Banners , now is lost : My arm , my arm , ev'n my right arm is lost . Nor will my Trumpets sound , without Ziphares : His Breath was as the Air , to all the Army ; His Face was as the Sun , in depth of Winter ; And made cold Cowards blush away their fears ; But he is set , for ever set in sorrow . Andr. Your Majesty is , of your self , sufficient To Head your eager Troops ; or brave Pharnaces Stands forth , to fill Ziphares empty place . Pelop. Ziphares still your Royal Favour had , To improve himself in Arms , against the Romans ; While , in inglorious Fields , Pharnaces strove Amongst Barbarians , to get a Name : And tho , perhaps , he greater pains imploy'd , In rooting up such Rubbish of the Earth , Than th' other did in felling the tall Trees ; Yet this was pay'd with Labour , that with Praise . Mith. Peace , Villains ; peace , conspiring Sycophants : Now , by the Gods , my eyes are half unseal'd ; But , if the thought that kindles in my breast Finds proper fuel to increase my fire , It shall consume you , Traytors ; if I find ( Which I begin to do ) that you have play'd The Villain , Andravar , or thou Pelopidas , And laid Semandra's Beauty as a snare To catch Ziphares life , ( Oh , all the Gods ! ) And ruine me , by placing of the Bait : Mark me , if ought of this , if any shadow Appear , that you conspir'd to betray me ; I 'll heap such horrours on your frighted Souls , That you shall call your Brother-Devils up , To snatch you hence , rather than stand my fury . Pelop. Why shou'd your Majesty suspect your Servants ? Mith. Because thou did'st foment my fatal passion ; And , when I view thee well , my Genius bids Beware of thee : tho thy most subtil Devil Has wrought me still to listen to thy lies ; Thou art , methinks , maliciously contriv'd , And hast , if ever yet a Villain had , The Face of a most subtil working Slave . Andr. We have done nought , but what your Royal Word Did Warrant : if you lov'd , shou'd we rebuke it ? Or durst we think to quench a fire , which you Resolv'd shou'd burn ? Mith. Yes , Traytors , yes ; you ought , When you had seen me going , to have stopt me : My strugling Virtue might , with some assistance , Have cast the Venom of my Passion up ; But , with your poysonous breath , you made it rage , Till I was fit to ruine poor Semandra . Enter Semandra . But , oh ! behold the Innocence I wrong'd ! Sem. What , dost thou start ? Oh Heav'ns ! Semandra frights him ! Why , what a Monster then must I appear , Whose Form can shake the bloody Mithridates ! 'T is sure , thou hast undone this helpless Creature , [ Weeping . And turn'd to mortal paleness all her Beauties ; Thou hast made her hate the Day which once adorn'd Her op'ning Sweets : how wretched hast thou made me ! Yet , Oh my Soul , thou inward knowledge , speak , How much I hate this violated Shrine . Mith. Wretched Semandra ! Sem. Dost thou pity me ? Is the long Line of my Eternal grief Of such a Charming force , that it can fetch Tears from that Rock ? Ah , most unheard-of sorrow ! Dost thou repent ? or are they but feign'd tears ? What-e're they are , thou should'st have thought before , The cruel consequence of this dark deed ; VVhen I was heav'd in Air , and with my cries Pierc'd the deaf Heav'ns , and call'd to thee for mercy , Then had'st thou thus dissolv'd , I shou'd have blest thee : But now , thy black Repentance comes too late . What , Ah! what satisfaction canst thou make ? Mith. Instruct me . Sem. No : there is in Nature none ; Since I can never be Ziphares Bride . For if thou shou'dst consent to make us one , And Heav'n shou'd Warrant it ; nay , tho Ziphares Extravagantly shou'd consent to take me , Ah , cou'd I meet those dear , those faithful arms , Which yet , in sleep , ne're touch'd a breast but mine , Thus wrong'd , and thus defil'd , thus nothing left , Of his Semandra , but her spotless mind ! This is too much to think . Ah , cruel King ! Now I cou'd curse , now I cou'd tear my self , Now I cou'd weep , as if 't were possible To wash my stains out . Tell me , O you Pow'rs , For I 'll be calm , was I not worth your care ? And why , you Gods , was Virtue made to suffer ? Unless this World be but as fire , to purge Her dross , that she may mount , and be a Star. Were this but certain ; Ah , there 's nothing sure , But my irrevocable Fate : undone Semandra ! â�� This , this is certain , Death with loss of Honour . [ Exit . Mith. Farewel , Semandra , thou most wrong'd of Women . But I 'll this instant go to Monima , And if I find what I suspect ; Pharnaces , I 'll cut thee off , as an infectious limb : And , for those Villains , I shall quickly know The wrong she has had ; whose accus'd Innocence If your foul words have sully'd with black slander , Think not to scape , for shou'd you ride on Charms , Take Winds to bear you , or the Lightning's speed , With panting horrour to the brink of Hell , I 'de sweep you from the Verge to flames beneath , And sink your Villanies with weighty death . [ Exit . Phar. First , sink your self , your Crown and Love together . Pelopidas , this comes of your cool counsel : Had I been heard , Monima had been gone By this ; enjoy'd , and Crown'd my Royal Bride , And we receiv'd , as Conquerors , by the Romans . Hast thou not heard how when Tygranes came , And cast his Diadem at Pompey's feet , He call'd him King , and rais'd him by that Name To sit as Equal to the Roman Consul ? By all the Gods , I will not stay a moment , But take immediately my flight ; except You swear to side with Rome ; call Pompey hither , And haste with all the Forces we can make , To joyn his Army , and betray my Father . Pelop. A sudden thought of lucky mischief comes ; Old Archelaus is arriv'd , but left The labour'd Army some few furlongs hence ; You know the violent love the Souldiers bear The Prince your Brother ; and we know too well , And so do all the murmuring Citizens , How cruelly your Father lately us'd him : But that great Mole , the Multitude , ne're sees Who works their Prince , but still take all on trust ; Therefore I instantly will spread amongst em , How Archelaus was Conspirator Against the Prince , and finding more advantage To have the King his Son in-law , by Letters Basely compell'd his Daughter to the Marriage . Phar. Millions to one but this will set 'em on To tear curst Archelaus , like mad Dogs . Besides , I find , by frequent murmures , how His Subjects are quite tir'd with length of War ; And , but last night , I know no less than twelve , All Captains , who conspir'd to take the part Of Pompey , and intreated me to Head ' em . Andr. Pursue the Treason , and be sure it cool not ; While I , with Tryphon , hasten to the Army : A Priest will colour well our enterprise . There will we give out all that Treachery Can raise to fire 'em ; how the King has doom'd The Prince to death , having first ravish'd from him The Fair Semandra , for whose sake he dies . Phar. While I immediately to Pompey send , Who comes , I hear , on hasty march , to fight Our Army , and besiege us in our Walls . Pelop. Thus shall the Prince and I rule all within ; And you , with the High-Priest my Brother , play Your Parts without . Phar. I long to be in action : And sure Rome must , for the great overthrow , Give me my Father's Crowns ; which gratitude Shall distribute to both your utmost wishes . Pelop. We must not doubt your bounty . â�� But , away ; Enter Ziphares ; with Ismenes , at distance . Your melancholy Brother may o're-hear us . Ex. Phar. Pelop. Andr. Ziph. Oh , my hard Fate ! why did I trust her ever ? What Story is not full of Womans falshood ! The Sex is all a Sea of wide destruction : We are the vent'rous Barks that leave our home , For those sure dangers which their smiles conceal : At first , they draw us in with flatt'ring looks Of Summer-Calms , and a soft gale of Sighs : Sometimes , like Syrens , Charm us with their Songs , Dance on the Waves , and show their Golden Locks : But , when the Tempest comes , then , then they leave us , Or rather , help the new Calamity , And the whole Storm is one injurious Woman . The Lightning follow'd with a Thunder-bolt Is Marble-hearted Woman : all the Shelves The faithless Winds , blind Rocks , and sinking Sands , Are Women all ; the wracks of wretched men . Prithee , Ismenes , while I lay me here , Charm me with some sad Song into a slumber . SONG ; by Sir Car Scroop . 1. ONe night , when all the Village slept , Myrtillo's sad despair , The wand'ring Shepherd waking kept , To tell the Woods his care . Be gone , said he , fond thought , be gone ; Eyes , give your sorrows o're : Why shou'd you waste your tears for one That thinks on you no more ? 2. Yet all the Birds , the Flocks , and Pow'rs , That dwell within this Grove , Can tell how many tender hours We here have pass'd in Love. Yon' Stars above ( my cruel Foes ) Have heard how she has sworn A thousand times , that like to those , Her Flame shou'd ever burn . 3. But , since she 's lost , Oh! let me have My wish , and quickly dye : In this cold Bank I 'll make a Grave , And there for ever lye . Sad Nightingales the Watch shall keep , And kindly here complain : Then down the Shepherd lay to sleep , But never wak'd again . Enter Archelaus . Arch. How now , Ismenes ? Prithee , gentle Boy , Instruct me where to find thy Royal Master . VVhat , dost thou weep ? I charge thee bring me to him . Isme. See there , my Lord. Arch. Bless me , you Heav'nly Pow'rs , Upon the Earth ! It cannot be thy Master . Is that a posture for a Conqueror ? He who so bravely beat the Romans back ? A General , and Triumpher ? Haste , and show me . Isme. By Heav'n , it 's true , my Lord ; there lies the Prince . Arch. Something my heart presag'd , when , having left The Army , I came posting to the Court , And scarce receiv'd a welcom from my Friends : They said the Prince had Triumph'd , but I saw Not the least track of such a Glory left , No glimmering twilight of so full an Honour . There has been foul play , and I 'll find it out . Ziph. Away , Semandra ; cruel VVoman , leave me . Arch. Ha! goes it there ? Ziphares , Prince , arise . Ziph. Ha! who is there ? old Archelaus ? Arch. VVhy Do I not see you in a Chariot , VVith all the Pride of Asia's brightest Gems ? VVhy mount you not the Throne which you deserve , The Lords of Colchis waiting as your Slaves ? Give me some reason why I see you thus . Ziph. Alas , he had no hand in her revolt , Nor knows not yet , perhaps , how she has us'd me : VVhy do I seem thus strange then ? â�� Oh , Archelaus , ( For I must never call thee Father more ) Pardon my faulty carriage . Arch. Forbear these strict imbraces , Your tears , your hanging on my Bosom thus ; Your sighs reduce my Age to sobbing Childhood , And make an Infant of your poor Old Man. Ziph. Did I not say I never more must call Thee Father ? Arch. Yes , you did . Ziph. Fond , foolish sorrow ! Thou art , thou-shalt , thou must be still my Father , My Brother , Sister , Mistress , all , my Friend ; For all but thou have left me : no kind eye Pities the suff'rings of abus'd Ziphares ; They fly , all fly from my infectious Fortune . Arch. Nay , good dear Prince , stand up ; you smother all Your words with groans : dry up this womanish grief , And speak , dear Sir , declare the cursed cause , The baleful Spring , the Source of all this mischief . Ziph. VVou'd you believe it ? scarce can I my self , Oh Heav'ns , and oh you ever-burning Lights , Who have beheld at midnight from your Orbs Our flames , that kindled bright and chaste as yours , Which of you all , which most malignant Star , Show me that envious Fire that crost our loves , That I may curse him from his fatal Sphere . Arch. Name it , I say , the ground of all this trouble ; I feel a warm revenge run through my blood , As if I had put off some forty year : Methinks I stand as fit to fight the Cause Of Friendship now , as then I cou'd my Love's . But speak . Ziph. Thy Daughter . Arch. Well , I guess'd Fate wounded there . Ziph. Semandra , my most fair , dear , gentle Mistress . Arch. If she be false , she is no longer fair . Ziph. That sweet protesting Creature , that pure whiteness , Where I so deep had writ my Vows in blood , Is taken from me . Arch. By her own consent ? Ziph. Most certain . That Eternal Bond of Oaths , Committed to her keeping , now is Cancell'd : Ev'n her fair Hand , the Seal of all my Love , Her Hand has given her faithless Heart away . Arch. Then , she is false ? you know her to be so ? Ziph. False , false , as waters , winds , or wand'ring fires : She is more false than Woman can believe . Arch. The opening of her treachery , come , how was 't ? Particular revenge wou'd know particulars . At first , I guess'd she did receive you kindly . Ziph. Quite contrary , as if she ne're had seen me ; Quite alter'd , quite estrang'd , reserv'd and cold , With all the coyness of a base-born Beauty , Made proud with Pow'r : not one tender look ; The very Accent of her Voice was chang'd , Nor was she to be known , but by her Beauty , Nought else cou'd speak her to my Sense the same , O nothing but the Face of my Semandra . Arch. When my keen Sword shall glitter in her eyes , Doubt not , but I shall make her know you well ; And , tho you never grace her with your favour , For she is now unworthy your imbraces , Yet I will bring the Traytress to your knees . Ziph. Can it be Thou shou'dst be ignorant , she 's past the giving ? Arch. I have not met the news , which your swoln eyes Appear so big with . Ziph. Here I am lost again ; Here all my courage , which has born the blow Of sternest War , shrinks like a beaten Coward : Here , I confess , my Piety gives way , I cou'd fall out with the forgetful Gods , And curse the cruel Author of my Being . No , Tyrant , no , thou bloody Parent , think not That I will bear it longer ; I 'll forget , Like thee , all nature , all remorse , all pity , And snatch her from thee , wedded as you are . Arch. What , Wedded ! Marri'd ! Ziph. Wedded , Marri'd , Bedded ; He has enjoy'd her , rifled that fair Casket Where all the riches of my life were laid : Yes , yes , you Gods , I saw 'em pass along , Pass to the Temple , through the crouded Streets , Saw 'em come back , darted my wishing eyes At her false Face , with such accusing glances , She fainted in the Chariot ; yes , I saw her Sink pale , and dying down ; but there I lost her , And left her to the Revels of the Night , To be enjoy'd , ev'n this last night enjoy'd . Arch. By all the Honours which she has dishonour'd , She shall not live another . Ziph. Oh my Father ! Cou'd you but guess the pains that I endur'd , Oh all the subtillest fits of sharpest sickness , Were nothing to the torments which I bore : I tim'd ev'n their disrobing kisses , smiles , The first imbraces , and the racking joy , But there methought Fancy it self was stopt , It cou'd no more . The limit of my life Was found , the end of all my joys on Earth . Arch. She dies ; not Destiny shall save her from me : As she has sworn , and as she has forsworn , I 'll draw my Sword , bath'd in her dearest blood , From forth her Heart-strings , while the rank red VVeeds Cling to my reeking Blade : or wou'd you more ? I am grown up to your anger . Ziph. General , hold : I have been Impious in my vented rage ; For which , oh pardon me , my Royal Father , And you most injur'd Pow'rs , whom I offended : And , oh , what-ever shall become of me , Forgive the fair , the false , the lov'd Semandra . If while I live thou mark her gentle Limbs With the least wound , it ends Ziphares life : Or if thou hurt her after I am dead , Thou 'lt raise my Ashes up in Arms against thee . Isme. My Lord , the Queen Semandra's coming hither . Ziph. Say'st thou ? Isme. The Queen â�� But see , she enters . Ziph , Ha! Enter Semandra . Sem. Oh Ziphares ! Oh Prince ! Oh thou most wrong'd ! Ziph. How can this be ? Madam , you ought at least To have sent me word ; for now , instead of Songs , I can present you nothing but my tears , A beating heart , and groans that will not suit VVith your most happy state , your blest condition . Sem. Ah , did you rightly understand my suffrings , You wou'd not wound a bleeding , dying Creature : But I 'll endure yet more . VVhen I am dead , And 't is too late , you 'l murmure to your self , At least I might have heard what the poor VVretch Cou'd say . Arch. Oh Syren ! but I will be hush'd . [ Aside . Ziph. VVhat canst thou say , if I resolve to hear thee ? Thou wilt but tear the wounds which thou hast made . This Visit was most cruel : why com'st thou then ; For fear I shou'd forget thee ? Merciless VVoman ! Arch. Yet let us hear her , Prince ; let 's hear the Sorceress ; That when sure Vengeance overtakes her Crimes , She may have nought to answer . Sem. The good Gods Reward that Voice of Mercy , First then , my Lord. Ziph. No ; I 'll be gone : Fly , Archelaus , fly , She has a Tongue that can undo the VVorld . She eyes me , just as when she first inflam'd me , Such were her looks , so melting was her language , Such false soft sighs , and such deluding tears , VVhen from her lips I took the luscious poyson , VVhen with that pleasing perjur'd breath avowing , Her whispers trembl'd through these credulous ears , And told the story of my utter ruine . Arch. Nay , 't is impossible to clear her self ; And it was Impudence to offer at it : Therefore , thou shameless Off-spring of my Blood , I 'll cut thee from me ; thus , with all thy Crimes , Die , as thou did'st desire . Half-drawing : stopt by Ziph. Ziph. Hold thy hand ; I charge thee touch her not . Arch. By Heav'n , she dies : I may dispose my own ; she shall not live . Ziph. By all the Gods , she shall , while I have breath : And , if thou draw'st , I 'll guard her life with mine . I shou'd be loth to lift my Arm 'gainst thee Of all Mankind ; but , were my Father here Resolv'd to give her Death , I wou'd oppose him . Sem. Draw then , and sheath your weapons in my breast , In curst Semandra's Heart ; but for the VVorld , Oh Father , do not wound the Prince Ziphares : And , oh Ziphares , do not hurt my Father ! Upon my knees , I beg you to be calm , And hear me thus . Ziph. Oh rise ! false , as thou art , Thou once wert Empress of my Soul , and I Still drag thy Chains : Speak then , Semandra , speak ; For I 'm so doz'd , so weary with complaining , That I cou'd stand and listen to the VVinds , And think that VVomen talk'd : observe the Rain , And think that VVomen wept ; or in the Clouds Behold Semandra's Form , still fleeting from me . But , speak : I lose my Senses with my Woes . Arch. He has sav'd thy life ; come , make a handsom lye In recompence . Sem. I will be short , as true . When you were gone to Wars , the King relaps'd ; How prompted , Heav'n best knows : and when with Conquest You came from Battel , he with dreadful threats Compell'd me to receive you in that manner . Ziph. Ah , cruel Creature ! what , what Menaces , What fear of death , cou'd so have made Ziphares Receive Semandra ? Sem. Not Racks , nor all the Tortures Which Hell combin'd cou'd put into the hearts Of bloodiest Tyrant , shou'd have forc'd me to 't , But , oh ! your life , which he with deepest Oaths Had sworn to take , unless I seem'd to scorn you ; That dash'd my Spirits , bafled all the daring Of my defenceless heart : there I confess The Woman work'd ; I trembled and agreed To see you so , rather than lose you ever . Arch. Now , by my Arms , she has come off with wonder ! Sem. And think , my Lord , reflect upon your self ; I dare believe so dearly once you lov'd me , That were you certain I shou'd lose my life , Unless you us'd me in that very manner , I know you wou'd constrain your flame awhile , And seem as cold , and as reserv'd as I. Ziph. Oh heart ! oh bleeding Love ! but speak , Semandra , For there is wondrous Reason , mighty Sense In what you say : and I cou'd hear you ever . Sem. When you were gone , the cruel King came in , And , without stop , propos'd the fatal Marriage , Which being deny'd , he forc'd me to the Temple . Yet , at the Altar , I deni'd my hand , Invok'd the Gods with the most violent sorrow , Tears , sighs , and swoonings ; curst the frighted Priests , Struck down the Censors , and like one distracted I mangled my own flesh ; but all in vain : I was suppos'd his Queen , and so enjoy'd . Ziph. Then still thy heart , thy heart was mine , Semandra ? Sem. It was , it is , for ever shall be yours . Ziph. Oh , at thy feet , let me for ever lye , Thus hang upon thy knees with dying grasps , Thou most wrong'd Innocence , abus'd Semandra . Sem. Oh , my dear Lord , you shall not kneel without me . Ziph. Thou art not false then ! Sem. Cou'd you think me so ? False to my Life , my Soul , my All I have ! Ziph. I did ; I thought thee false , and I deserve To die , for wronging thy most matchless Faith : For thou art true , constant as pining Turtles , Constant , as Courage to the Brave in Battel , Constant as Martyrs , burning for the Gods. Arch. What Changes drive bus'ness of the World ! Come , no more weeping : rise , Think on the King , if he shou'd take you thus . Ziph. Oh rise , Semandra ; what , what are we doing ? Why , Archelaus , why did'st thou cut me off The moments pleasure which my thoughts were forming ? Thy cruel breath quite broke the brittle Glass Of my short life , and stopt the running Sand. What shall we do , Semandra ? Sem. Part , and die . Ziph. Die , 't is resolv'd ; but how ? that , that must be My future care : and with that thought I leave thee . Go then , thou Setting-star ; take from these eyes , ( These eyes , that if they see thee , will be wishing ) O take those languishing pale fires away , And leave me to the wide , dark Den of Death ! Sem. Something within me sobs to my boding heart ; Semandra ne're shall see Ziphares more . Ziph. Away then ; part , for ever part , Semandra : Let me alone sustain those rav'nous Fates , Which , like two famish'd Tygers , are gone out , And have us in the Wind. Death come upon me ; Night , and the bloodi'st deed of darkness , end me . But , oh , for thee , for thee , if thou must die , I beg of Heav'n this last , this only favour , To give thy life a painless dissolution : Oh , may those ravish'd Beauties fall to Earth Gently , as wither'd Roses leave their Stalks : May Death be mild to thee , as Love was cruel ; Calm , as the Spirits in a Trance decay : And soft , as those who sleep their Souls away . [ Exeunt .

ACT V. SCENE I. Pelopidas , Andravar , Priest , incompass'd with Romans . Pelop. ROmans , who send your Laws far as the Sun His Beams , and whom the Universe beholds With joy , yet dreads your anger as the Gods , Why move you to the ruine of this Tyrant , To the sure death of bloody Mithridates , As if you fear'd , or car'd not he shou'd die ? Can you suspect an Ambush ? or that we Shou'd dare betray you , yielding thus our persons , Our Lives , our Prince himself into your hands ? Andr. This man , to whom the servile Priests bow down , Who wears a Crown in honour of his place , And sacred worth , abandons all his glories T' attest the truth of what we have declar'd . Enter Pharnaces . But see , the fierce , the brave , the Great Pharnaces Comes on to meet you ; waves his Royalties : Therefore , O mighty Romans , give him Audience . Phar. That I am rough , and of an untaught Spirit , All the East knows ; I ever scorn'd those Slaves VVith whom I have been bred ; and when my Father Order'd Barbarian Princes for my Masters , In Arts and Arms , I spurn'd 'em from my presence ; And rather chose , since Rome might not instruct me , Nature in all my Actions for my Guide . Hence cou'd I brook more hardly the fierce mind Of our Inhumane Parent Mithridates . My Eldest Brother's Fate did kindle first My fiery Soul to a most swift revenge ; For when the State of Bosphorus demanded That Prince for King , he bound the gallant Youth In Golden Chains , and doom'd him to be slain : Two more were by his boundless fury strangled ; And ev'n the last but me , the brave Ziphares , Last night was murder'd in the Tyrants Palace : In whose sad cause , the Squadrons which he led Of late so valiantly against you Romans , Attend some furlongs hence to joyn your Banners . If this be true , not to recount the Slaughters Of all his Queens and poyson'd Concubines , I think the World ( Rome I shou'd first have nam'd ) Will little censure this so just revolt . If you suspect me false , behold Pharnaces , Ne're yet detain'd , but free as roving Lyons That swept at will like Winds in Deserts wild ; Behold him , with these Noble Hostages , Your Pris'ner to be bound the Slave of Rome . Rom. Capt. Lead us on to Victory . Omnes . To Victory . Phar. On them , you Race of Heav'n , you Seed of Gods ; And to Immortalize Pharnaces Name , Plant me , like Thunder breaking from this Cloud , Foremost , while all the ratling Engines follow . Monima , whom this Tyrant ravish'd from me , I hear is fled to Pompey : her I ask , For my reward , with half his spreading Empire . But I waste words ; let 's act , and then make claim . And O remember , when we storm the Town , Remember that most horrid Massacre Of Asia ; whet on that your blunted Spirits , Till with the motion Lightning edge your Souls To mow off hoary Heads , hurl Infants puling From the lug'd breast , kill in the very Womb : To Beauties cries be deaf , make all Synope But one vast Grave , to hold the infinite bodies Which we must shovel in ; and when you see The Head of Mithridates in this hand , Then think who ever dar'd for Rome like me , Or bought an Empire at a price so dreadful : Then yield the Beauty I so much desire , And all those Crowns to which my thoughts aspire . [ Exeunt .

SCENE II. Enter Ziphares , Archelaus . Ziph. 'T Is late ; the gath'ring Clouds , like meeting Armies , Come on apace , and Mortals now must die , Till the bright Ruler of the rising Day Creates 'em new : the wakeful Bird of Night Claps her dark wings to th' Windows of the dying . General , Good-night . Arch. Sir , I 'll not leave you yet . I do not like the dusky boding Eve. Well I remember , Sir , how you and I Have often on the Watch in Winter walk'd , Clad in cold Armor , round the sleeping Camp , Till cover'd o're from head to foot with Snow , The Centinels have started at our march , And thought us Ghosts stalking in Winding-sheets : And do you think I cannot watch you now , Thus cover'd , and beneath this bounteous Roof ? Sleep , Sir ; I 'll guard you from suspected danger . Ziph. Danger ! there 's none ; no shadow of a harm : Dear General , you 'l oblige me to retire : We 'll meet to morrow with the earliest dawn ; I 'm troubled now , and heavy ; in the morning , Soon as you please , you shall have entrance here ; And then , I trust the bounteous Gods , you 'll find A wondrous alteration . Sleep may Charm My talking griefs , and hush 'em fast for ever . Arch. 'T is that I fear . â�� I tell you there are Deaths Brooding this night abroad . A Recluse Priest , Surpriz'd with mortal sickness , was this Evening , As he himself desir'd , ta'n from his Bed , And carry'd to the Closet of the King : Where , after some close conference , he expir'd . Immediately your Father Orders gave For doubling all his Guards , and went in fury To Monima's Apartment , where 't was said Pharnaces had been gone a while before . Ziph. I ever thought that Brother most ambitious ; But what is this to me ? Arch. What follow'd does Concern both you and me , and all the East ; For streight , when the sick Priest had breath'd his last , The sacred Oyl , which for a hundred years Supply'd the Sun behind the Golden Vail , Went out , and all the mystick lights were quench'd : Strange doleful Voices shrilly eccho'd through The darkned Fane ; the Monuments did open , And all the Marble Tombs , like Spunges squeez'd , Spouted big Sweat : the Curtain was consum'd With wondrous flame ; and every shining Altar Dissolv'd to yellow puddle , which anon A flash of thirsty Lightning quite lick'd up . While through the Streets your murder'd Brothers rode , Arcathias , Mithridates , and Machares , And madded all the schreaming multitude . Is not this strange ? Ziph. The Gods reproach my slackness . [ Aside . 'T is strange ! most wondrous strange ! Once more I pray thee By all our Friendship , leave me to my self . Arch. Ah , Prince , you cannot hide Your purpose , from your narrow-searching Friend : I find it , by the sinking of your Spirits , Your hollow speech , deep musings , eager looks , Whose fatal longings quite devour their objects , You have decreed , by all the Gods you have , This night to end your Noble Life . Ziph , Away . I never thought thee troublesome till now . Arch. I care not ; spite of all that you can do , I 'll stay , and weep you into gentleness : Your faithful Souldier , this old doting Fool Shall be more troublesom than one that 's wiser . By Heav'n , you shall not hurt your precious life . I 'll stay and wait you , wake here till I die ; Follow you , as a fond and fearful Father Wou'd watch a desperate Child . Ziph. I 'll tell thee then , Since thou wilt tear the Secret from my breast , And dive into the bottom of my Soul , This night must end me : make not a reply ; 'T is fix'd as fast and sure as are my woes . Did'st thou but know what 't is to love like me , And to be so belov'd ; O Archelaus ! Yet to be past all hope of happiness , Of ever tasting those desir'd Beauties , Of any dawn , least glimpse , or spark of comfort , Did'st thou not hate me much , even thou wou'dst kill me . Arch. If that my death , ( for that indeed 's but little ) Cannot once move you from this dreadful deed , Yet , Prince , your Country , which must fall without you , Your bleeding Country must obtain at least That you wou'd live to free her from her Foes ; Your Glory calls , your sinking Father begs , That you wou'd save your Country from the Romans . Ziph. Much I indeed have got by Conquering Rome ! And to much purpose lost my dearest blood ! Much have my wounds deserv'd ; and Heav'n can tell How Nobly I have been rewarded for ' em ! I tell thee , Archelaus , I have sworn , Were I to live , I wou'd not fight again : The World shou'd neither better be , nor worse For me . But I waste time ; and to convince thee , Since thou wilt have the trouble to behold My death , I bid thee now farewel for ever . Arch. Hold , Sir. Ziph. I will ; and talk as calmly to thee As any dying Roman of 'em all : I have consider'd well of what I do , And I will perish with as little noise As Fate cou'd wish that wou'd not be accus'd . Arch. I 'll follow you . Ziph. I wou'd intreat thee not ; Thou hast no sorrows that are past the sufferance : And sure my flying Soul will hang her wing , When she shall feel thy weighty death upon her . O , Archelaus , leave me to my Fate ; If thou must see me fall , I charge thee live , At least so long to tell Semandra of me : Bear her some Token of my ill-star'd Love , Which Empire cou'd not win to live without her . Dip in the blood which trickles from my heart Thy Handkerchief , and bid her keep it for me , As a Remembrance now and then to mourn me : Swear to do this . Arch. This I will do ; and , mark me , cruel Prince , If thus thou violate that Royal Frame , Tearing the gallant Spirit from his Mansion , I swear by what I tremble at , thy death , I 'll double all thy wounds upon Semandra . Ziph. Ha! Arch. I 'll tear her piece-meal , and so hack her limbs , Thou shalt not know her in the other World. Ziph. Oh torture : dear , good Archelaus , hold ; I know thou canst not mean such cruelty . Why dost thou rack me thus , with thoughts in death That are much heavier ev'n than death it self ? Why dost thou make my eyes thus swim in tears ? I charge thee , do not hurt her ; for the sake Of all the Gods , be gentle to my Love : I beg for mercy to the soft Semandra . Alas , if she deserv'd , as she is faultless , She cou'd not bear the wounds which we can bear . Arch. Give me your promise then that you will live : Live but this night , or I have sworn her death . Ziph. Thou hast found the means to Charm me into life , And keep me on the Rack ; but no more threats Against Semandra : 't was unkindly done , And I grow angry at my Fates delay . Arch. Why will you be thus froward ? Live to night ; Be careful of your self but till the Morn : Methinks there may be wonders wrought e're then . Ziph. O Archelaus ! 't is impossible : Had she been Ravish'd by another Man , I cou'd have clear'd her with the Villains Blood ; But by my Father touch'd , what Miracle Can work me into hope ? Heav'n here is Bankrupt ; The wondring Gods blush at their want of pow'r , And , quite abash'd , confess they cannot help me . Arch. Sure , by you lifted Torches , I discern Your Father moving this way . Ziph. Ha! my Father ! How my flesh trembles ! I cou'd do a deed Wou'd make us both run mad . Draw , Archelaus . Yet stay : what Devil starts thus in my blood , And turns my Reason to this maze of folly ? No ; let us suffer more , if possible : Yet I will shun his Presence . Oh you Pow'rs , Is that a Crime ? answer me if it be , And I will meet him , tho his sight should blast me . [ Exeunt as Mithridates , Captain of the Guards , and Attendants enter . Mith. Betray'd ! and by my Son ! given up a Prey For the Insulting Romans to devour ! Pharnaces is the Traytor , that Pharnaces Who was t' inherit all that space of Empire Which Fortune gave to this unhappy King ! O Friends , when from the Palace-gate we sally'd , And drove the bold Assailants through the City , The Impious Boy Charg'd as I foremost rode , And brav'd my Fury with his Bever up ; But , Oh the Gods , I who before had crimson'd My Arms with Blood of Rebels , I who mov'd With Whirlwinds swiftness still on every side , And tost like Leaves the weightiest Foes about me , Now stood , as if Gorgonian Charms had fixt me : Nor know I more . Capt. Your Sword , Great Sir , when you A while had gaz'd on that Audacious Prince , Fell from your hand , your mighty Spirit left you ; And as some famous piece of Antick-work , When the sunk Props and wasted Beams decay , Staggers and nods before the ruine comes : So wav'd your Royal Fabrick e're it fell ; And , as our Arms receiv'd you , curs'd Pharnaces , Born by Ambition to a murder new ; Offer'd a wound , and 't was with great expence Of lives , we bore your Body to the Palace . Mith. My Senses blaze ; my last I know is come ; My last of hours : 't is wondrous horrid ! now My lawless love , and boundless pow'r reproach me . But I will think no more on 't . Come , my Friends , Let 's meet these Romans , and my Rebel-Son ; Let 's kill till we are weary , then lye down And rest for ever : O 't is Noble Ruine ! Creatures of vilest make , upon disgust With Knives or Cords set loose their Coward Souls ; But we will live in spite to grieve the World , While life will last , or any Spirits hold . O that , like Serpents hewn , we still might move , Our Limbs lopt off , and kill with every parcel ! Enter Semandra . Sem. 'T is done ; my Ruine is at last reveng'd , And cruel Mithridates is no more : That famous wicked man shall kill no more : Faln is the Murderer , he shall love no more Another's right ; shall Ravish now no more . Mith. O horrour ! snatch me , Furies , from her presence : Gape wide , O Earth , and swallow me alive . Sem. I go before , and never shall we meet On Earth again , inhumane Mithridates ; Yet I rejoyce not , be my Witness Heav'n , At those Calamities that come upon thee : But think 'em just , and with a dread reflection Behold thy Fate , and wonder at the Gods. Not but thy Son , my Love , my lost Ziphares , And I , in lamentable Shapes , made up By Death 's own hand , will tell 'em all thy Story . For ever thus , thou Ravisher of Honour , I leave thee to the Vultures of thy Conscience , To all the Stings Ambition feels in death , Or Lust , the Rape committed . O , you Pow'rs Make firm my hand , for an Exploit , to Crown My Life , whose bus'ness shall be quickly done . [ Exit . Mith. Away , to Arms , to Arms ; plunge deep in blood : Be quick to die . Were all the Roman Piles , And Scythian Darts , and Parthia's poyson'd Arrows , Shot through this Body , her words wou'd be more . I 'll not endure 't ; rush to the fatal War : I wou'd be drunk with Death , and steaming Slaughter , To stupifie the sense of inward torment . Haste then , and wallow in the murd'ring Field , Through all the Avenues to battel flie : They who have liv'd in blood , in blood must die . [ Exeunt . Trumpets . Enter Pelopidas , Andravar , their Swords drawn , with a Lamp. Pelop. Yonder he Sallies , furious for Destructions , And now full scope is given to act our bus'ness , And end the sad Ziphares . Andr. I am glad The chance is faln to us : to death , nay more , To Hell I hate him , and to have him slain By any hand but mine , wou'd pall the Murder . Pelop. The Palace now is drawn Of all the glitt'ring Host that twinkled here , Following their King , to shoot the Gulph of Ruine : And it was order'd well , by Prince Pharnaces , While with the Romans he dispatch'd his Father , That we shou'd kill his drooping Brother . Ha! I hear some tread ! your Lamp must wink awhile . Enter Ziphares . Ziph. Oh , 't is too much ; I never shall sleep more . How loud the Voice of Fate sounds every-where ! Trumpets and Drums ! yet old Archelaus , With grief and watching spent , in spite of all Those Tides of Care that swell'd e're-while so high , Lies like a Child that braul'd himself asleep . Ismenes too , that wept to see me mourn , Falls on his breast , and nods his tears away : So sleeps the Sea-boy on the Cloudy Mast , Safe , as a drowzy Tryton , rock'd with Storms , While tossing Princes wake on Beds of Down . Pelop. 'T is he ; prepare . Andr. Both perish , if he escape . Ziph. This darkness fills my breast with horror : now , Now I may do the deed ; which done , all 's sure : It shall be so , and thus I will deceive him . But then he kills Semandra . Whence this light ? Swords ! Vizors ! what Assasinates are these ? Wou'd they were more ; for ruine is my wish : Yet I disdain to fall by Villains hands . [ Beats 'em off . Enter Semandra , with a Dagger in her hand . Sem. Where do I wander in the dismal Shades Of this black night ? there 's not a Soul beneath Who dy'd as I must do , for fatal Love , Knows better all the gloomy Arbours there , Than I each Chamber in this House of Death . 'T was here the God-like Prince did wooe me first , Sigh'd his first Vows , and wept me into passion : Where shall I find him , that most perfect Soul ? Whose whiteness will to after-ages answer For all the spotted loves of perjur'd men . Meet him I must , and run into his arms ; But with a Roman blow , which first shall drive This Ponyard to my heart : then , rush upon him , Then clasp him close , then he 'll believe me true . Enter Ziphares . Ziph. This way the Cowards fly ; this way the noise goes , I think thou hast it there , and canst not scape me . Sem. I thank the Gods , I shall not . Let me kiss The hand that kills me . Oh too gracious Heav'n ! Semandra now is happy . Ziph. Semandra ! what ; What say'st thou ? Speak again , thou dismal voice . Sem. Oh , that I cou'd see your face before I die : Those eyes , where I wou'd look my Soul away . Ziph. Awake ; what ho , Ismenes ! haste , a light ! Haste hither , Father , Archelaus , haste ! My heart bodes ruine , we are all undone . Enter Archelaus , and Ismenes with a Light. Oh , Father , either I am Charm'd , or here Semandra lies , slain by this dreadful hand . Arch. Our Guardian-spirits shield us , 't is my Daughter . Ziph. Curs'd Fate ! malicious Stars ! you now have drain'd Your selves of all your poys'nous influence ; Ev'n the last baleful drop is shed upon me . Sem. Give me thy hand most matchless of thy kind ; O joyn us , Father , joyn us thus in death : Now thou art mine ; and we 'll be wedded too In th' other World ; our Souls shall there be mixt : Who knows , but there our joys may be compleat ? A happy Father , thou ; and I , perhaps , The smiling Mother of some little Gods. Ziph. Oh Archelaus , if thou lov'st her memory , Fly to the King , and let him understand The truth of all : if he be pleas'd to hear her , Intreat him haste , the pangs of death are on her . Arch. I will , if tears will let me , find the way : And , by your leave , these Weapons shall be mine . Ziph. That I expected . Ha! she faints , Ismenes , Run to my Closet , haste , where thou wilt find A Golden Vial of rich Juice , to bring the Spirits Back to their Seat : go , pour it in a Bole With speed , to save her . [ Exit Ismenes . Hast thou not a word , A syllable , fair Soul ? Speak , speak , Semandra . I feel a trembling warmth about thy heart : It pants . Sem. As Cowards do before a Battel . Oh , the Great March is sounded . Ziph. Stay thee one moment , Ismenes re-enters , with a Bole. And I will lead thee on . Away , Ismenes ; Watch thou the King's approach , and bring me word . Exit Ism. Here , seest thou this , my Love ? look up , Semandra , Thou dying Spark , glimmer a little while ; Behold this Cordial , this sure warmth at heart , This faithful Off'ring of Eternal Love. Sem. VVhither , oh where ? Death's Myst comes fast upon me . What is 't you drink ? Ziph. A Draught which makes me thine ; The pow'rful Cordial which my Father gave me , A Noble Compound of his fatal skill : He charg'd me , when I cou'd not live with Honour , To taste it , and be free . Sem. Methinks your Voice is faint As distant Ecchoes ; and I am now far off : Alas , I know not where . [ Dies . Ziph. I 'll fold thee thus , And Mithridates shall not part us now : Fan thus the dying flame with my last breath . She 's out : the damp of Death has quench'd her quite : These spicy-doors , her lips , are shut , close lock'd , Which never gale of life shall open more . I come . Oh Father ! Oh thou true Physitian ! Thou work'st me Nobly now ; and oh 't is welcom ! Thy Drugs are quick ; once more , O Love ! I come , Thou most of Life in Death . Ambition , Fame : 'T is empty all ; and nothing but a Name . [ Dies . Archelaus , Mithridates supported bleeding : Pharnaces , Pelopidas , Andravar , bound . Arch. Behold , behold my Lord , how I 'm rewarded For faithful service , for the numerous scars Which in your Cause have mark'd my aged body ! My Daughter 's slain . Ha! let me never rise , If that the brave Ziphares be not kill'd ! Was this the Cordial , wicked Boy , thou brought'st him ? Mith. Blame not the guiltless , for by me he 's poyson'd : By this inhumane Tyrant , Monster , Parricide ; By me the Drugs were mixt , and dol'd about To my unhappy Children , left surpriz'd , They shou'd be born to Rome for Royal Slaves . Arch. Dead ! art thou dead , O lovely Royal Plant , Blown down by gusty Heav'n , in all thy bloom ! My hour is come ; and thus I follow thee . Mith. Hold him . What means the frantick General ? Disarm , and bring him hither . Kneel , O kneel , Before these Bodies . Arch. What wou'd you , sacred Sir ? Mith. Swear , swear to live . I have a Royal Race of Little Ones : Live , I Conjure thee , to defend those Infants From Roman Rage ; intreat Victorious Pompey , And he 'll be gentle to 'em : Swear to live . Arch. I swear ; but after that â�� â�� Mith. Rise , and no more . My blood leaks fast ; and the great heavy lading , My Soul will quickly sink ; therefore revenge : Yes , you pale figures , you most precious forms , Who , where you walk , for sure you tread the Stars , Shame brightest Gods , and add new light to Heav'n , First , in most dreadful manner , will I give Those Traytors lives , who drew me to your ruine . Hence , burn the Slaves ; the curs'd Pelopidas , And Villain Andravar : away with ' em . For thee â�� ( but sure I shall disdain to name thee ) The Palace yet is ours . Arch. But cannot long Be so : Pompey the Great is entred ; And those who took your part , are all revolted . Mith. Away then ; bear him to the middle Turret , Whose Brazen-head rises above the rest , In sight of Pompey , throw him from the top , And give his most aspiring life an end . Phar. I know thou canst not long out-live me , Tyrant . Accurs'd be Fortune , which too forward bore me To be thy Prey ; and rot the hand that seiz'd me : Yet , when my Ghost is from this body dash'd , If such a Goblin as a Ghost there be , I 'll rise , and wing the mid-way Air to wait thee ; Hurl'd shalt thou be , as Saturn was by Jove , And flag beneath me , while I reign above . Mith. O General , behold , and wonder with me , How swiftly Fate can make , or unmake Kings ! How empty is Death's Pomp , compar'd with Life ! Where now are all the busie Officers , The supple Courtiers , and big Men of War , That bustled here , and made a little World ? Revolted all : Support me , for I go . My Soul is on the Beach , and strait must lanch Into th' Abyss of the black Sea of death , Where Furies stand upon the smoaky Rocks , Prepar'd to meet one greater than themselves . Here , lay me bleeding by these murder'd Lovers ; And , oh ! when I am dead , let Sorrow stalk In sacred silence to my gaping Tomb. Forget that ever Mithridates was ; No tongue relate the deeds this Hand has done , Let thought be still , or work beneath the ground ! But oh he 's come , cold Tyrant I obey , And hug thy Dart that bears my Life away . [ Dies .

FINIS .

Epilogue , by Mr. Dryden . YO 've seen a Pair of faithful Lovers die : And much you care ; for , most of you will cry , 'T was a just Judgment on their Constancy . For , Heav'n be thank'd , we live in such an Age When no man dies for Love , but on the Stage : And ev'n those Martyrs are but rare in Plays ; A cursed sign how much true Faith decays . Love is no more a violent desire ; 'T is a meer Metaphor , a painted Fire . In all our Sex , the name examin'd well , Is Pride , to gain ; and Vanity to tell : In Woman , 't is of subtil int'rest made , Curse on the Punk that made it first a Trade ! She first did Wits Prerogative remove , And made a Fool presume to prate of Love. Let Honour and Preferment go for Gold ; But glorious Beauty is not to be sold : Or , if it be , 't is at a rate so high , That nothing but adoring it shou'd buy . Yet the rich Cullies may their boasting spare ; They purchase but sophisticated Ware. 'T is Prodigality that buys deceit ; Where both the Giver , and the Taker cheat . Men but refine on the old Half-Crown way : And Women fight , like Swizzers , for their Pay.

Prologue , by Mr. Lee. NOt careful Leaders , when the Trumpets call Their Martial Squadrons on , to stand or fall , Toss'd with more doubts , than careful Poets are When vent'rous Wit for Sally does prepare ; When Humming Voices bid the Play begin , And the last flourish calls the Prologue in . Here you , like dreadful Warriours , judging sit ; And , in full Councel , try all Writers Wit. To some for Sense Renown'd , our Authors bow ; And what you Doom , for a just Fate allow : But sure far less such Judges Poets dread , Than those Raw Blades who will not let 'em Plead , But , e're they can be heard , cry , shoot 'em dead . These Pyrats , they both Arms and Wits debase ; Who Fields and Poems , with their Spleen , disgrace , Poets and Warriours both shou'd have in Chase : These Libellers who noblest Fights despise , Yet , when a Pan but flashes , shut their Eyes . They who write Lampoons , vilely get a Name By others Infamy , and live in shame ; Fifes , Whiflers , and the silly'st Sense , not fit To be the Powder-Monkeys of true Wit : Mimies , like Apes , what 's ill , for head they cover , And live upon the Vermin of a Lover : Nauseous to all , like Pills , by Fortune hurl'd , And coated o're with Gold , to Purge the World. Neglecting these , and rusting to your aid , To Beauty our last Vows , like yours , are made : Beauty , which still adorns the op'ning List , Which Caesar's Heart vouchsafes not to resist : To that alone devoted is this day ; For , by the Poet , I was bid to say , In the first draught , 't was meant the Ladies Play.

Persons Represented ; By Mithridates , King of Pontus . Mr. Mohun .

Ziphares , Pharnaces , his Sons .

M. Hart. M. Goodman . Archelaus , General under Ziphares . M. Griffin . Pelopidas , Andravar , two Courtiers .

M. Wintershul . M Powell . Aquilius , a Roman Captive . M. Clark. Another Roman Officer . M. Wiltshire . Ismenes , Page to Ziphares . Â Monima , Contracted to Mithridates . Mrs. Corbett . Semandra , Daughter to Archelaus . Mrs. Boutel . Priests , and Attendants , Mutes .

Â

Scene Synope .