while Lee was reading to Major Mohun, at a rehearsal, Mohun, in the warmth of his admiration, threw down his part, and said, 'Unless I were able to play it as well as you read it, to what purpose should I undertake it?' And yet," continues the laureate, "this very author, whose elocution raised such admiration in so capital an actor, when he attempted to be an actor himself, soon quitted the stage in an honest despair of ever making any profitable figure there." Failing in this object, he became a writer for the stage, and his first tragedy of "Nero," which came out in 1675, was favourably received. In the nine

subsequent years of his life he produced as many plays of his own, and assisted Dryden in two; at the end of which period an hereditary taint of madness, aggravated by habits of dissipation, obliged him to be consigned for four years to the receptacle at Bethlem. He recovered the use of his faculties so far as to compose two pieces, the Princess of Cleves, and the Massacre of Paris; but with all the profits of his invention his circumstances were so reduced that a weekly stipend of ten shillings was his principal support towards the close of his life, and to the last he was not free from occasional derangement.

The characters in the following scenes are Varanes, a Persian prince, who comes to visit the Emperor Theodosius; Aranthes, his confidant; Leontine, the prince's tutor; and Athenais, daughter of that philosopher, with whom Varanes is in love. Her father Leontine, jealous for his daughter's honour, brings his royal pupil to an explanation respecting his designs towards Athenais; and Varanes, in a moment of rash pride, at the instigation of Aranthes, spurns at the idea of marrying the philosopher's daughter and sharing with her the throne of Cyrus. Athenais however is seen by the Emperor Theodosius, who himself offers her his hand. The repentance of Varanes for her loss, and the despair of Athenais, form the catastrophe of the tragedy.

Leon. So, Athenais; now our compliment To the young Persian prince is at an end; What then remains, but that we take our leave, And bid him everlastingly farewell?

Athen. My lord!

Leon. I say, that decency requires

We should be gone, nor can you stay with honour.
Athen. Most true, my lord.

Leon. The court is now at peace,
The emperor's sisters are retired for ever,
And he himself composed; what hinders then,
But that we bid adieu to prince Varanes?

Athen. Ah, sir, why will you break my heart?
Leon. I would not;

Thou art the only comfort of my age;
Like an old tree I stand among the storms,
Thou art the only limb that I have left me,
My dear green branch; and how I prize thee, child,
Heaven only knows! Why dost thou kneel and
weep?

Athen. Because you are so good, and will, I hope, Forgive my fault, who first occasioned it. [prince. Leon. I charged thee to receive and hear the Athen. You did, and, oh, my lord! I heard too Too much, I fear, for my eternal quiet. [much! Leon. Rise, Athenais! Credit him who bears More years than thou: Varanes has deceived thee. Athen. How do we differ then! You judge the prince

Impious and base; while I take Heaven to witness,
I think him the most virtuous of men :
Therefore, take heed, my lord, how you accuse
Before you make the trial.-Alas, Varanes, [him,

If thou art false, there's no such thing on earth
As solid goodness or substantial honour.-
A thousand times, my lord, he has sworn to give me
(And I believe his oaths) his crown and empire,
That day I make him master of my heart.

Leon. That day he'll make thee mistress of his power,

Which carries a foul name among the vulgar.
No, Athenais ! let me see thee dead,
Borne a pale corpse, and gently laid in earth,
So I may say she's chaste, and died a virgin,
Rather than view thee with these wounded eyes
Seated upon the throne of Isdigerdes,
The blast of common tongues, the nobles' scorn,
Thy father's curse; that is,

Athen. O horrid supposition! how I detest it,
Be witness, Heaven, that sees my secret thoughts!
Have I for this, my lord, been taught by you
The nicest justice, and severest virtue,
To fear no death, to know the end of life,
And, with long search, discern the highest good?
No, Athenais! when the day beholds thee
So scandalously raised, pride cast thee down,
The scorn of honour, and the people's prey?
No, cruel Leontine, not to redeem
That aged head from the descending axe,
Not, though I saw thy trembling body rack'd,
Thy wrinkles about thee fill'd with blood,
Would I for empire to the man I love,
Be made the object of unlawful pleasure.
Leon. O greatly said! and by the blood which

warms me,

Which runs as rich as any Athens holds,
It would improve the virtue of the world,
If every day a thousand votaries,
And thousand virgins came from far to hear thee.
Athen. Look down, ye powers, take notice we
The rigid principles ye have infused ! [obey
Yet oh, my noble father, to convince you,
Since you will have it so, propose a marriage;
Though with the thought I'm cover'd o'er with

blushes.

Not that I doubt the prince,—that were to doubt The heavens themselves; I know he is all truth : But modesty,

The virgin's troublesome and constant guest, That, that alone forbids.

Leon. I wish to heaven

There prove no greater bar to my belief.
Behold the prince; I will retire a while,
And, when occasion calls, come to thy aid.
[Exit LEON.

Enter VARANES and ARANTHES. Vara. To fix her on the throne, to me, seems little ;

Were I a god, yet would I raise her higher,
This is the nature of thy prince: But, oh!
As to the world, thy judgment soars above me,
And I am dared with this gigantic honour.
Glory forbids her prospect to a crown,
Nor must she gaze that way; my haughty soul,
That day when she ascends the throne of Cyrus,
Will leave my body pale, and to the stars
Retire in blushes, lost, quite lost for ever.
Aran. What do you purpose then?
Vara. I know not what :

But, see, she comes, the glory of my arms,

Enter ATHEnais.

The only business of my instant thought,
My soul's best joy, and all my true repose
I swear I canot bear these strange desires,
These strong impulses, which will shortly leave me
Dead at thy feet.

Athen. What have you found, my lord,
In me so harsh or cruel, that you fear
To speak your griefs?

Vara. First let me kneel and swear,
And on thy hand seal my religious vow,
Straight let the breath of gods blow me from earth,
Swept from the book of fame, forgotten ever,
If I prefer thee not, O Athenais,

To all the Persian greatness !

Athen. I believe you ;

For I have heard you swear as much before.
Vara. Hast thou? O why then did I swear again!
But that my love knew nothing worthier of thee,
And could no better way express my passion.
Athen. O rise, my lord!

Vara. I will do every thing

Which Athenais bids: if there be more
In nature to convince thee of my love,
Whisper it, oh some god, into my ear!
And on her breasts thus to her listening soul
I'll breathe the inspiration! Wilt thou not speak?
What, but one sigh, no more! Can that suffice
For all my vast expense of prodigal love?
Oh, Athenais! what shall I say or do,
To gain the thing I wish?

Athen. What's that, my lord?

Vara. Thus to approach thee still! thus to behold Yet there is more

[thee.

Athen. My lord, I dare not hear you.
Vara. Why dost thou frown at what thou dost
not know?

"Tis an imagination which ne'er pierced thee;
Yet, as 'tis ravishing, 'tis full of honour.

Athen. I must not doubt you, sir: But oh I To think if Isdigerdes should behold you, [tremble Should hear you thus protesting to a maid Of no degree, but virtue, in the world

Vara. No more of this, no more; for I disdain
All pomp when thou art by; far be the noise
Of kings and courts from us, whose gentle souls
Our kinder stars have steer'd another way!
Free as the forest-birds, we'll pair together,
Without remembering who our fathers were;
Fly to the arbours, grots, and flow'ry meads,
And in soft murmurs interchange our souls ;
Together drink the crystal of the stream,
Or taste the yellow fruit which autumn yields,
And when the golden evening calls us home,
Wing to our downy nest, and sleep till morn.

Athen. Ah, prince; no more!
Forbear, forbear to charm me,
Since I am doom'd to leave you, sir, for ever.
Vara. Hold, Athenais-

Athen. I know your royal temper,

And that high honour reigns within your breast, Which would disdain to waste so many hours With one of humble blood compared to you, [her; Unless strong passion sway'd your thoughts to love Therefore receive, O prince, and take it kindly, For none on earth but you could win it from me, Receive the gift of my eternal love!

'Tis all I can bestow, nor is it little ; For sure a heart so coldly chaste as mine, No charms but yours, my lord, could e'er have [comfort,

warm'd.

Vara. Yes, Leontine, my old remembrancer, Most learn'd of all philosophers, you did.

Leon. Thus long she has attended, you have seen her,

Sounded her virtues and her imperfections; Therefore, dread sir, forgive this bolder charge, Which honour sounds, and now let me demand

you

Vara. Now help, Aranthes, or I'm dash'd for

ever.

Aran. Whatever happens, sir, disdain the mar

riage.

But hold, my heart, and let that solid virtue,
Which I so long adored, still keep the reins.
O Athenais! But I will not chide thee:
Fate is in all our actions, and, methinks,
At least a father judges so, it has
Rebuked thee smartly for thy easiness:
There is a kind of mournful eloquence
In thy dumb grief, which shames all clamorous
Athen. Alas! my breast is full of death; methinks
I fear even you-

[sorrow.

themselves,

To admit this humble virgin for your bride?

Vara. Ha!

Athen. He blushes, gods! and stammers at the question.

Leon. Why do you walk, and chafe yourself, The business is not much. [my lord?

Vara. How, Leontine !

Not much I know that she deserves a crown;
Yet 'tis to reason much, though not to love;
And sure the world would blush to see the daughter
Of a philosopher on the throne of Cyrus.

Athen. Undone for ever!

Leon. Is this your answer, sir?

Vara. Why dost thou urge me thus, and push The very brink of glory? where, alas!

[me to

I look and tremble at the vast descent:
Yet even there, to the vast bottom down,
My rash adventurous love would have me leap,
And grasp my Athenais with my ruin.

Leon. 'Tis well, my lord.

Vara. Why dost thou thus provoke me?

I thought that Persia's court had store of honour

To satisfy the height of thy ambition.

Besides, old man, my love is too well grown,
To want a tutor for his good behaviour;

What he will do, he will do of himself,
And not be taught by you.-

Leon. I know he will not:

Fond tears, away! I know, I know he will not; But he would buy with his old man's preferment My daughter

*

Vara. Away, I say, my soul disdains the motion! Leon. The motion of a marriage; yes, I see it; Your angry looks and haughty words betray it : I found it at the first. I thank you, sir, You have at least rewarded your old tutor For all his cares, his watchings, services; Yet, let me tell you, sir, this humble maid, This daughter of a poor philosopher, Shall, if she please, be seated on a throne As high as that of the immortal Cyrus.

Vara. I think that age and deep philosophy Have crack'd thy brain: Farewell, old Leontine, Retire to rest; and when this brawling humour Is rock'd asleep, I'll meet my Athenais, And clear the accounts of love, which thou hast blotted. [Exit. Leon. Old Leontine ! perhaps I am mad indeed.

To be forgiven?

Leon. Thy father does forgive thee,
And honour will; but on this hard condition,
Never to see him more-

Athen. See him! Oh heavens !

Leon. Unless it be, my daughter, to upbraid him: Not though he should repent and straight return, Nay, proffer thee his crown-No more of that. Honour too cries revenge, revenge thy wrongs; Revenge thyself, revenge thy injured father; For 'tis revenge so wise, so glorious too, As all the world shall praise.

Athen. O give me leave,

For yet I am all tenderness: the woman,
The weak, the mild, the fond, the coward woman,
Dares not look forth; but runs about my breast,
And visits all the warmer mansions there,
Where she so oft has harbour'd false Varanes !
Cruel Varanes! false, forsworn Varanes!

Leon. Is this forgetting him? Is this the course Which honour bids thee take?

Athen. Ah, sir, allow

A little time for love to make his way;
Hardly he won the place, and many sighs,
And many tears, and thousand oaths it cost him ;
And, oh! I find he will not be dislodged
Without a groan at parting hence for ever.
No, no! he vows he will not yet be razed
Without whole floods of grief at his farewell,
Which thus I sacrifice! and oh, I swear,
Had he proved true, I would as easily
Have emptied all my blood, and died to serve him ;
As now I shed these drops, or vent these sighs,
To show how well, how perfectly I loved him.

Leon. No woman sure, but thou, so low in for-
Therefore the nobler is thy fair example, [tune,
Would thus have grieved, because a prince adored
Nor will it be believed in after-times,
[her;
That there was ever such a maid in being;
Yet do I still advise, preserve thy virtue;
And since he does disdain thee for his bride,
Scorn thou to be--

Athen. Hold, sir, oh hold, forbear, For my nice soul abhors the very sound; Yet with the shame of that, and the desire Of an immortal name, I am inspired: All kinder thoughts are fled for ever from me, All tenderness, as if I ne'er had loved, Has left my bosom colder than the grave.