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Alex. Sirrah | off,
Lys. Oh, sacred sir I have but a nioment's patience.
here, Like poor
Darius by my barb'rous subjects.
Clyt. Sure there is none amongst us,
[Stabs hitr. And let bold subjects learn by thy example Not to provoke the patience of their prince.
Clyt. The rage of wine is drown'd in gushing blood Oh Alexander ! I have been to blame : llate me not after death; for I' repent That I so far have urg'd your noble nature.
Alex. What's this I hear I say on, my dying soldier.
Clyt. I should have kill'd myself had I but liv'd To be once sober-Now I fall with honour; My own hands would have brought foul death. . Oh, pardon !
[Dies. Alex. Then I am lost: what has my vengeance done! Who is it thou hast slain ? Clytus / what was he ? The faithfullest subject, worthiest counsellor,
The bravest soldier, he who sav'd thy life,
Heph. Remove the body, it inflames his sorrow.
Alex. None dare to touch him : we must never parto Cruel Hephestion and Lysimachus, That had the pow'r, yet would not hold me. Oh!
Lys. Dear sir, we did.
Alex. I know ye did ; yet held me Like a wild beast, to let me go again With greater violence.—Oh, ye have undone me ! Excuse it not; you that could stop a lion Could not turn mel ye should have drawn your swords, And barr'd my rage with their advancing points, Made reason glitter in my dazzled eyes Till I had seen the precipice before me: That had been noble, that had shown the friend ; Clytus would so have done to save your lives. Lys. When men shall hear how highly you were
urg'd Alex. No; you have let me stain my rising glory, Which else had ended brighter than the sun., Oh! I am all a blot, which seas of tears And my heart's blood can never wash away! Yet 't is but just I try, and on the point Still reeking hurl my black polluted breast. Heph. Oh, sacred sir I-it shall not-must not be.
Lys. Forgive, dread sir l-forgive my pious hands,
[Falls on Clytus. Close to my murder'd soldier's bleeding side; Thus clasping his cold body in my arms 'Till death like his has clos'd my eyes for ever.
Enter PerdiCCAS. Per. Treason I foul treason! Hephestion, where 's
the king ? Heph. There, by old Clytus' side, whom he hath slain.
Per. Rise, sacred sir! and haste to save the queen. Roxana filled with furious jealousy, Came with a guard unmark’d; she gain’d the bow'r, And broke upon me with such sudden fury That all have perish'd who oppos’d her rage.
Alex. What says Perdiccas ? is the queen in danger? Per. Haste, sir, or she dies.
Alex. Thus from the grave I rise to save my love : All draw your swords, on wings of lightning move, Young Ammon leads you, and the cause is love. When I rush on sure none will dare to stay; 'Tis beauty calls, and glory leads the way. [Excunt.
ACT V. SCENE 1.
The Bower of Semiramis.--STATIRA discovered,
Stat. Ye guardian gods defend mel
Stat. And what is she who with such tow'ring pride Would awe a princess that is born above her?
Rox. Behold this dagger! 't is thy fate Statiral Behold, and meet it as becomes a queen. Fain would I find thee worthy of my vengeance ; Here, take my weapon then, and if thou dar’st
Stat. How little know'st thou what Statira dares !
Rox. Return, fair insolent I return, I say :
Stat. Alas, Roxana I 't is not in my pow'r;
Rox. Oh, sorceress! to thy accursed charms
Stat. Yet think, Roxana, ere you plunge in murder, Think on the horrors that must ever haunt you ; Think on the furies, those avenging ministers Of Heaven's high wrath, how they will tear your soul,