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Ev'n when I show'd the greatest want of rev'rence
I could have dy'd with rapture in your service.

Alex. Lysimachus, we both have been transported :
But from this hour be certain of my heart.
A lion be the impress of thy shield;
And that gold armour we from Porus won
Thy king presents thee-But thy wounds ask rest.

Lys. I have no wounds, dread sir, or if I had,
Where they all mortal they should stream unminded
When Alexander was the glorious health.
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.
Neither reply, but mark the charge give;
Live, live as friends--you will, you must, you shall:
'Tis a god gives you life.

Clyt. On, monstrous vanity!
Alex. Hal 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.
I'll drink or fight for sacred majesty
With

any

here. Fill me another bowl. Will you excuse med

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
E:ernal war. All are my enemies,
Whom I could tame-But let the sports go on.

Lys. Nay, Clytus, you that could advise so well

Alex. Let him persist, be positive, and proud,
Envious and sullen, 'mongst the nobler souls,
Like an infernal spirit that hath stole
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-yet Yet 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 pester'd with shrill sounds, Give me the cries of matrons in sack'd towns,

Heph. Let us, Lysimachus, awake the king ; A heavy gloom is gath'ring 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.

[ 4 loud flourish of Trumpets, Oh, for the voice of Jovel the world should know The kindness of my people-Risel oh risel My hands, my arms, my heart, are ever yours.

Clyt. 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,
The noblest subject for a soldier's mouth,
And speak, speak freely, else you love me not.
Who think you was the greatest general
That ever led an army to the field?

Heph. A chief so great, so fortunately brave,
And justly so renow'd, as Alexander
The radiant sun, since first his beams gave light,
Never yet saw.

Lys. Such was not Cyrus, or the fam'd Alcides,
Nor great Achilles, whose tempestuous sword
Laid Troy in ashes, tho' the warring gods
Oppos'd him.

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. Clyt. Your father Philip I have seen him march, And fought beneath his dreadful banner, where

The boldest at this table would have trembled.
Nay, frown not, sir, you cannot look me dead.
When Greeks join’d Greeks then was the tug of war!
The labour'd battle sweat, and conquest bled.
Why should I fear to speak a bolder truth
Than e'er the lying priests of Ammon told you ?
Philip fought men-but Alexander women.

Alex. All envy, spite and envy, by the gods !
Is then my glory come to this at last
To conquer women! Nay, he said the stoutest,
The stoutest here, would tremble at his dangers.
In all the sickness, all the wounds, I bore,
When from my reins the jav’lin's head was cut,
Lysimachus, Hephestion, speak Perdiccas,
Did I once tremble Ohr, the cursed falsehood!
Did I once shake or groan, or act beneath
The dauntless resolution of a king ?

Lys. Wine has transported him.

Alex. No, 't is mere malice. I was a woman too at Oxydrace, When planting on the walls a scaling ladder I mounted, spite of showers of stones, bars, arrows, And all the lumber which they thunder'd down. When

you

beneath cry'd out, and spread your arms, That I should leap among you-did I so?

Lys. Dread sir, the old man knows not what he says.

Alex. Was I woman when, like Mercury,
I leap'd the walls and flew amidst the foe,
And like a baited lion dy'd myself
All over in the blood of those bold hunters;

'Till spent with toil I battled on my knees,
Pluck'd forth the darts that made my shield a forest,
And hurld'em back with most unconquer'd fury,
Then shining in my arms I sunn'd the field,
Mov'd, spoke, and fought, and was myself a war.

Clyt. 'Twas all bravado ; for before you leap'd
You saw that I had burst the gates asunder.
Alex. Oh, that thou wert but once more young and

vig'rous ! That I might strike thee prostrate to the earth, For this audacious lie, thou feebled dotardı

Clyt. I know the reason why you use me thus : I sav'd you from the sword of bold Rhesaces, Else had your godship slumber'd in the dust, And most ungratefully you hate me for it. Alex. Hence from the banquet : thus far I forgive

thee. Clyt. First try (for none can want forgiveness more) To have your own bold blasphemies forgiv'n, The shameful riots of a vicious life, Philotas' murder

Alex. Hal what said the traitor ?

Heph. Clytus, withdraw; Eumenes, force him hence: He must not tarry: drag him to the door.

Clyt. No, let him send me if I must be gone,
To Philip, Atalaus, Calisthenes,
To great Parmenio, and his slaughter'd sons.

Alex. Give me a javelin.
Heph. Hold, mighty sir !

G

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