Rox. Barbarian! yes, I will for ever fhun thee.
Repeated injuries have steel'd my heart,
And I cou'd curfe myself for being kind.
If there is any majesty above,

That has revenge in ftore for perjur'd love,
Send, heav'n, the swifteft ruin on his head!
Strike the destroyer! lay the victor dead!
Kill the

But what are curfes? Curfes will not kill,

Nor eafe the tortures, I am doom'd to feel.

Alex. Oh, my fair ftar, I fhall be shortly with thee! What means this deadly dew upon my forehead? My heart too heaves

Caff. The poifon works!

Enter Eumenes.

Eum. Pardon, dread Sir, a fatal meffenger. The royal Syfigambis is no more.

Struck with the horror of Statira's fate,

She foon expired, and, with her latest breath,
Left Parifatis to Lyfimachus.

But what I fear moft deeply will affect you,
Your lov'd Hepheftion's

Alex. Dead then he is bleft!

But here, here lies my fate.

Hephestion, Clytus!

My victories all for ever folded up

In this dear body. Here my banner's loft,
My standard's triumphs gone.

Oh, when shall I be mad! give orders to

The army that they break their fhields, fwords, fpears, Pound their bright armour into dust

-Away.

Is there not cause to put the world in mourning?

Burn all the fpires, that feem to meet the sky,
Beat down the battlements of every city;
And, for the monument of this lov'd creature,
Root up these bowers, and pave 'em all with gold.
Draw dry the Ganges, make the Indies poor,
To deck her tomb: no fhrine nor altar fpare,

But strip the pomp from gods to place it there. [Exit.

Enter Theffalus.

Caf. He's gone-but whither ?-follow Theffalus,

Attend his steps, and let me know what paffes.

[Exit Theffalus.

Vengeance, lie ftill, thy cravings shall be sated.
Death roams at large, the furies are unchain'd,
And murder plays her mighty master-piece.

Enter Polyperchon, Theffalus, and Philip.
Phil., Saw you the king?

Pol. Yes; with diforder'd wildnefs in his looks,
He rush'd along, till, with a cafual glance,
He saw me where I ftood: then stepping short,
Draw near, he cry'd-and grafp'd my hand in his,
Where more than fevers rag'd in ev'ry vein.
Oh, Polyperchon! I have loft my queen!
Statira's dead!and, as he spoke, the tears
Gufh'd from his eyes-I more than felt his pains.
The Hence, hence, away!

Caff. Where is he, Theffalus?

The. I left him circled by a crowd of princes. The poifon tears him with that height of horror, Ev'n I cou'd pity him-he call'd the chiefs;

Embrac'd 'em round-then, starting from amidst 'em,. Cried out, I come-'twas Ammon's voice; I know itFather, I come; but, let me, ere I

go, Dispatch the business of a kneeling world.

* Pol. No more; I hear him-we must meet anon. Caff. In Saturn's field-there give a loose to rapture, Enjoy the tempeft we, ourselves, have rais'd,

And triumph in the wreck which crowns our vengeance. [Exeunt.

SCENE, the Palace.

Alexander, with his hair dishevelled, Lyfimachus, Eumenes, Perdiccas and Attendants. Alexander dif

covered.

Alex. Search there; nay, probe me, fearch my wounded reins

Pull, draw it out.

Lyf. We have fearch'd, but find no hurt.

Alex. Oh, I am shot, a forked burning arrow Sticks crofs my fhoulders: the fad venom flies

Like light'ning thro' my flesh, iny blood, my marrow. Lyf. How fierce his fever!

Alex. Ha! what a change of torments I endure ! A bolt of ice runs hiffing through my bowels; "Tis, fure, the arm of death; give me a chair;

E 3

Cover

Cover me, for I-freeze, and my teeth chatter,
And my knees knock together.
Eum. Have mercy, Heav'n!
Alex. Iburn, I burn again;

The war grows wond'rous hot; hey for the Tygris!
Bear me, Bucephalus, amongst the billows.

[Jumps into the chair.
Oh, 'tis a noble beast; I wou'd not change him
For the beft horse the fun has in his ftable;
For they are hot, their mangers full of coals;
Their mains are flakes of lightning, curls of fires;
And their red tails like meteors whisk about.
Lyf. Help all; Eumenes, help.

Alex. Ha, ha, ha, I fhall die with laughter.
Parmenio, Clytus, do you fee yon fellow,
That ragged foldier, that poor tatter'd Greek?
See how he puts to flight the gaudy Perfians,
With nothing but a rufty helmet on, through which
The grifly briftles of his pushing beard

Drive 'em like pikes-ha! ha! ha!

Per. How wild he talks!

Lyf. Yet warring in his wildnefs.

Alex. Sound, found, keep your ranks close; ay, now
they come ;

Oh, the brave din, the noble clank of arms!
Charge, charge apace, and let the phalanx move:
Darius comes-ay, 'tis Darius ;

I fee, I know him by the sparkling plumes,
And his gold chariot drawn by ten white horses.
But, like a tempeft, thus I pour upon him-

He bleeds; with that laft blow I brought him down :
He tumbles, take him, fnatch the imperial crown.
They fly, they fly; follow, follow-Victoria,
Victoria, Victoria-

[Leaps into the foldier's arms.

Per. Let's bear him foftly to his bed.

Alex. Hold, the leaft motion gives me fudden death;

My vital fpirits are quite parch'd, burnt up,

And all my fmcaky entrails turn'd to afhes.

Lyf. When you, the brightest star that ever shone,

Shall fet, it must be night with us for ever.

Alex. Let me embrace you all, before I die.

[All kneel and weep.

Weep

Weep not, my dear companions, the good gods
Shall fend ye in my stead a nobler prince;

One that fil lead ye forth with matchless conduct.
Ly. Break not our hearts with fuch unkind expreffions
Per. We will not part with you, nor change for Mars.
Alex. Perdiccas, take this ring,

And fee me laid in the temple of Jupiter Ammon.
Lyf. To whom does your dread majesty bequeath
The empire of the world?

Alex. To him that is most worthy.

Per. When will you, facred Sir, that we should give To your great memory thofe divine honours

Which fuch exalted virtue does deserve?

Alex. When you are all most happy, and in peace. Your hands-Oh, father, if I have discharg'd The duty of a man to empire born; If by unwear'ed toil I have deferv'd The vaft renown of thy adopted fon, Accept this foul which thou did'ft first infpire, And which this figh thus gives thee back again. [Dies Ly. There fell the pride and glory of the war. If there be treafon let us find it out;

Lyfimachus ftands forth to lead you on;

And fwears, by these most honour'd dear remains,
He will not taste thofe joys which beauty brings,
Until he has reveng'd the best of kings.

END of the FIFTH ACT.

EPI.

EPILOGUE.

WHate'er they mean, yet ought they to be curft,
Who this cenforious age did polish firft:
Who the best play, for one poor error blame,
As priefts againft our ladies" arts declaim,
And for one patch both foul and body damn.
But what does more provoke the actors rage,
(For we must show the grievance of the Rage)
Is, that our women which adorn each play,
Bred at our coft, become at length our prey:

While green
and four, like trees we bear them all,
But when they're mellow, ftrait to you they fall:
You watch 'em bare and fquab, and let 'em reft,
But with the firft young down you snatch the neft.
Pray leave thofe poaching tricks, if you are wife,
E'er we take out our letters of reprize.

For we have vow'd to find a fort of toys
Known to black friars, a tribe of chopping boys ;.
If once they come, they'll quickly spoil your sport;
There's not one lady will receive your court;
But for the youth in petticoats run wild,
With, Oh, the archeft wag, the fweeteft child.
The panting breaft, white hands, and lily feet,
No more fall your pall'd thoughts with pleasure meets.
The woman in boys clothes, all boy fhall be,
And never raife your thoughts above the knee.
Well, if our women knew how false you are,
They wou'd ftay here, and this new trouble spare ::
Poor fouls, they think all gospel you relate,
Charm'd with the noife of fettling an eftate:
But when at laft your appetites are full,
And the tir'd Cupid grows, with action, dull;
You'll find fome trick to cut off the entail,
And fend 'em back to us all worn and ftale..

Perhaps they'll find our ftage, while they have rang'd`
To fome vile canting conventicle, chang'd:

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