Volume Ii Part 40 (2/2)

_Pim_. You should command me, though I was never good at Secrets.

_Enter_ Cleomena, Semiris.

_Cleo_. Let the Coach wait at the Entrance of the Wood: I find I am a perfect Woman now, And have my Fears, and fits of Cowardice.

_Sem_. Madam, will you not see the Combat then?

_Cleo_. I dare not, something here a.s.sures me _Clemanthis_ will be conquer'd.

_Pim_. Ha! the Princess here? on my Conscience there was never Mischief but a Woman was at one end o'nt.

_Sem_. How now, _Pimante_, why do you look so scurvily?

_Pim_. Ah, Madam, such a Sight so dismal and b.l.o.o.d.y!

_Cleo_. What says he?

_Pim. Clemanthis_, Madam--

_Cleo. Clemanthis_! Oh, what of him?

Why, my prophetick Heart, dost thou betray me?

_Sem_. For Heaven's sake, Madam, rea.s.sume your Courage.

_Cleo_. Yes--I will hear--the fatal Story--out.

_Pim_. Truth is, Madam, to retire from the Noise and Fury of the Battle, I came into this Wood; and when I thought all Danger past, I heard even here the Noise of Swords and Fighting; which endeavouring to avoid, I fell almost into the Danger of them.

_Sem_. Leave out the History of your own Fears, and come to the Business.

_Pim_. But ah, Madam, unseen I saw: who did I see-- Ah, who should I see but _Clemanthis_, Madam, Fixt with his Back against yon Cypress-tree, Defending himself against a dozen Murderers.

I was, alas, too weak to take the weaker side, And therefore came not forth to his a.s.sistance.

Prince _Ismenes_ would have taken his Part, but came too late too; But e'er he died we begg'd to know his Murderers, And he could answer nothing but--_Thersander_.

_Cleo_. Remove me to the Body of my Love--

[_They lead her to_ Amin. _who lies wounded; she gazes on him a while, his Face being all b.l.o.o.d.y_.

--I will not now deplore as Women use, But call up all my Vengeance to my Aid.

Expect not so much Imbecillity-- From her whose Love nor Courage was made known Sufficiently to thee. Oh, my _Clemanthis_!

I wou'd not now survive thee, Were it not weak and cowardly to die, And leave thee unreveng'd.

--Be calm, my Eyes, and let my Soul supply ye; A silent broken Heart must be his Sacrifice: Ev'ry indifferent Sorrow claims our Tears, Mine do require Blood, and 'tis with that These must be washt away-- [_Rises, wipes her Eyes_.

Whatever I design to execute, Pimante, and Semiris, I conjure ye, Go not about to hinder, but be silent, Or I will send my Dagger to this Heart.

Remove this Body further into the Wood, And strip it of these glittering Ornaments, And let me personate this dear dead Prince.

Obey, and dress me strait without reply.

There is not far from hence a Druid's Cell, A Man for Piety and Knowledge famous: Thither convey the breathless sacred Corps, Laid gently in my Chariot, There to be kept conceal'd till further Orders.

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