Nathaniel Lee. ALEXANDER THE GREAT; OR, THE RIVAL QUEENS. ALEXANDER, having condemned to death LYSIMACHUS, for demanding in marriage PARISATIS, whom he had destined as the Bride of his Favourite, HEPHESTION, revokes the sentence, and awaits the presence of LYSIMACHUS at a grand Regal Banquet, where CLYTUS, a brave old Soldier, refusing to pay Divine Honours to ALEXANDER, is killed. ALEXANDER, PERDICCAS, CASSANDER, POLYPERCHON, EUMENES, discovered at a Banquet, Etc. [A flourish of trumpets. Alex. To our immortal health and our fair queen's; All drink it deep; and while the bowl goes round, Mars and Bellona join to make us music; A thousand bulls be offered to the sun, White as his beams; speak the big voice of war; [Flourish of trumpets. Enter CLYTUS, HEPHESTION, and LYSIMACHUS, bloody. Clyt. Long live the king! long live great Alexander! And conquest crown his arms with deathless laurels, Propitious to his friends, and all he favours. Alex. Did I not give command you should Lysimachus? Heph. Dread sir! you did. Alex. What then Portend these bloody marks? Heph. Ere we arrived. preserve Perdiccas had already placed the prince In a lone court, all but his hands unarmed. Clyt. On them were gauntlets; such was his desire, The blood of Eacus and common men. Heph. With unconcern the gallant prince advanced, But mine the danger, were his only words; Clyt. Agile and vigorous, he avoids the shock Oh, my brave soldier! think not all the prayers Lys. Thus, self-condemned, and conscious of my guilt, Even when I showed the greatest want of reverence Alex. Lysimachus, we both have been transported: And that gold armour we from Porus won Alex. Thy hand, Hephestion: clasp him to thy heart, And wear him ever near thee. Parisatis Shall now be his who serves me best in war. Live, live as friends-you will, you must, you shall: Clyt. Oh, monstrous vanity! Alex. Ha! what says Clytus? who am I? Clyt. The son of good king Philip. Alex. By my kindred gods 'Tis false. Great Ammon gave me birth. Clyt. I've done. Alex. Clytus, what means that dress? Give him a robe, there. Take it and wear it. Clyt. Sir, the wine, the weather, Has heated me: besides, you know my humour. Alex. Oh, 'tis not well! I'd rather perish, burn, Than be so singular and froward. Clyt. So would I Burn, hang, drown, but in a better cause. With any here. Fill me another bowl. Alex. You will be excused: But let him have his humour; he is old. Clyt. So was your father, sir; this to his memory: Sound all the trumpets there. Alex. They shall not sound 'Till the king drinks. Sure I was born to wage All are my enemies, Eternal war. Whom I could tame-But let the sports go on. Lys. Nay, Clytus, you that could advise so well- From hell, and mingled with the mirth of gods. Clyt. When gods grow hot, no difference I know 'Twixt them and devils-Fill me Greek wine-yetYet fuller-I want spirits. Alex. Let me have music. Clyt. Music for boys-Clytus would hear the groans Of dying soldiers and the neigh of steeds; Or, if I must be pestered with shrill sounds, Give me the cries of matrons in sacked towns. Heph. Let us, Lysimachus, awake the king; A heavy gloom is gathering on his brow. Kneel all, with humblest adoration, kneel, And let a health to Jove's great son go round. Alex. Sound, sound, that all the universe may hear. Oh, for the voice of Jove! the world should know Cly. I did not kiss the earth, nor must your hand I am unworthy, sir. Alex. I know thou art: Thou enviest the great honour of thy master. Sit, all my friends. Now let us talk of war, Heph. A chief so great, so fortunately brave, The radiant sun, since first his beams gave light, Lys. Such was not Cyrus, or the famed Alcides, Alex. Oh, you flatter me! Clyt. They do, indeed, and yet you love them for't, But hate old Clytus for his hardy virtue. Come, shall I speak a man with equal bravery, A better general, and experter soldier? Alex. I should be glad to learn: instruct me, sir. Why should I fear to speak a bolder truth Philip fought men-but Alexander women. |