ALEXANDRA

Enough, enough; Come let's away, my heart is winged with haste That outflies thought or motion; Egypt (sweet) Hath safety in it, not Jerusalem. There's pregnant reason for it, and our lives Are marks that Herod shoots at: Who but sees The woeful state of sad Jerusalem, And how this Tyrant (Like and angry Boar) Roots up the goodly Pines should cover him? Hath he not slain Antigonus, destroyed Thy Father and thy Grandsire: (Oh my Lords, My deer loved Lords, my Father and my Husband;) Worthy Hircanus, noble Alexander; And at this instant lies he not in wait For our destructions? Beldame that I am To prate at such a season; (holy Sweet) Come let's away, our flight is so secure, No Art can undermine it; any pause Opens our graves before us: fly, Oh fly. Hark, I hear The steps of some pursues us; prithee come, Let Egypt and not Juda be our Tomb. Rather think, How sharp a plague is Tyranny: Oh King, Remember it's the fiercest Beast, of all That are accounted savage; yet delights In Flattery, which is the worst of them That are tame and domestic: With these Fiends My life can find no pleasure; do not then Blame me to seek my freedom. But your Tyranny Shall outrun all example: Sir, Despair Arms me with truth and boldness; I dare now Tell you, of Kings, you are the wickedest; And I, that in the ruins of my blood, Read your destroying nature, and collect Into a short brief many Tragedies, Acted upon our family; what hope Is left, that can assist us? Truth hath no needs of figures: was't not you That did betray Hircanus in his flight To the Arabian Monarch; and when laid In harmless sleep then slew him? Did not you Hire the bloody Cassius to cut off My father's head, (the loved Antigonus? ) Have you not killed my Husband, troad my Sons Into the mire, that you might safely walk Over their heads unto Ambition? And can you hope, that we have any hope In you, but desolation? Passed belief, Nor shall the memory loose me; this not feigned, I'll fix my prayers upon him. Oh cease my Marriam, tears can do no good; This Murder's passed example; to be drowned, Drowned in a shallow murmur where the stones Chid the faint water for not covering them. Oh, 'twas a plot beyond the Devil sure; Man could not have that malice. Good Sweet, unlock these counsels. Antipater; he drown him! Yet I fear, None that can draw more vengeance or despair. Insolent: hug it sweetly, 'tis your own; And every sin beside that is damnable: Come, you're despised Grecians; so profane, Ignoble and unholy, that our Tribes Are stained in your coniunctions; poor things, know, Your titular King, in whom your glories dwell, Is but a roy all murderer; your selves, And his proud Bastard, bloody Substitutes: Oh, I could paint you bravely; for my grieves Have all your perfect colours. Come, you're a barbarous Creature. Slanderous Grecian. Young Cockatrice. Do but (This) that motion shall destroy thee. No more; I that but now shed tears, now laugh: Oh God! To see so brave a Masterpiece of Villainy By such a Bastard Issue be compacted: Thou make atonement? Hence Bastard, hence; The dregs of Lust, the foul Disease of Wine, That Wertenberg begotten when sin was revelling: Thou make attonemenr? No; go lea ne to drown The Lords elected people; here stands she That looks to taste thy poison. You may report our speeches; say, our joy Is, we have left no more he can destroy. You can dissemble royally; but that Cannot cure mine Impostume. Of accident? of plotted Massacre; Murder beyond example: but there's left A Hell to reckon with. Funerals are But wretched satisfactions. Would! is't so, Hath Mischief God the Conquest; then 'tis time To change my disposition, and deceive Those which would else deceive me; in this kind, It skills not whom we injure, whom we blind. Impudent! Is that all thou canst utter? Have I lived To see thee grow thus odious, to forsake The chased embracements of a royal bed, For and incestuous Lecher; to become The Peoples scorn, the honest Matrons curse, The Tribes disgrace, and Israel's obloquy; Nay more, the whole world's wonder, and a stain Near to be washed off from Jerusalem? Oh mine afflicted honour! Pack for shame, Run to thine own destruction: What, a Whore? A poisoning Whore? a baudy Murderess? Nay, more; a treacherous Strumpet? Oh that Heaven Had made mine anger Lightning, that it might Destroy thee in a moment. Is it not proved apparent? But is it ce taine Pheroas is so sick, As Rumor does give out? 'Tis most strange; But judgement still pursues him; yet I'll call And visit his affliction; for although His words accused my Marriam; 'tis his sin Not person, that I envy. Oh, you are well encountered; I am sad That sadness thus afflicts you. How fares your noble Husband? Whence should proceed these Passion? Advice and sufferance is a ready cure For these distempered passion; and might I But see him, I would boldly tender them. Would, what's this? sure I must found him deeper: How fare you Sir? Discourse with Patience; she will comfort you. Why do you call on Herod? Who do you mean, Marriam? Indeed was easily done; but soundly sworn to. Let not her name offend you; she deserved A death more horrid, and her end was joust: Oh Pheroas, I hated her for that Act More then the Scriech-Owle day; and would my self Have been her Executioner; had not Law Stepped in betwixt me and anger. This savours of distraction. Whom do you see Sir? Give him leave; Passion abates by venting. Gentle Sir, Name them which thus seduced you. But yet, she's dead. You have divulged a Mystery, whose truth Shall sprinkle blood through all Jerusalem. Oh me, poor innocent Marriam, let thy soul Look down on my revengement; for thy sake, I will so get all Greatness; faith I will. Sir, I do wish you may die happy now; Your free confession is a Sacrifice. You're happy Sir. These actions lead you on to happiness; And for the penitent man, remission stands Ready to fold him in her Crystal arms: Yet noble Pheroas, make me so much blessed, To know who plot Marriam's Ttagoe y And those deeds Argue a pious Nature. Have patience; 'tis a fruitless Dialogue, Since to the dead you speak; withdraw him hence, His Conscience is unburdened, he secure On his long Journey wandered; and beleeu't, The causers of his woe shall follow him; By all that's good they shall; second me Fate, And let revenge once murder cruel hate. Not any Sir. I do confess them; Here is the Viol and the drops: from this, What can your malice gather? Sir, 'tis false I never did intend your injury. If you be made my Judge, I know I'm then Worse then all fear can make me. 'Tis welcome Sir; a sudden death, I know Is terrible and fearful; but indeed, To those which do attend it, and do stand Constantly gazing on it; who do live, Where it scars none but Cowards; those can meet, And kiss it as a sweet Companion: 'Tis unto those a Bugbear, who do think Never on Heaven, but for necessity. Your Tyranny hath taught me other rules; And this guest comes long looked for: here's a health To all that honour Virtue; let suffice, Death does oretake; but it does not surprise. Oh My thrice Princely Son; thou hast forgotten That Time's our Master, and we can dispo But merely of the instant. For which blood I'll have vengeance, & my tears Shall never dry till it be perfited. Utter it; For Heavens sake utter it, noble, worthy Lord.