Ther. No, Madam, I can die—thus—
[Offers to fall on his Sword.
Cleo. Stay—
Thou shalt not so much Glory gain:
No, live, and prove wretched enough to know
How very poorly thou hast lost my Heart.
[Ex. raving.
[Ther. gazes after her.
Ther. Must I then live?—I will obey—farewel,
The fairest and unkindest of thy Sex;
If e’er it be thy chance to meet with one
That loves more than Thersander, if thou canst
Treat him worse than thou hast done me—
For oh! how miserable is the Wretch, whose Prayer
Repuls’d, like me, lives only to despair.
[Exit.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
The Curtain is let down—being drawn up, discovers Orsames seated on a Throne asleep, drest in Royal Robes, the Crown and Sctpter lying by on a Table. Geron near the Throne. On either side of the Stage, Courtiers ready drest, and multitude of Lights. Above is discovered the Queen, Olympia, and Women, Pimante, Artabazes, Ismenes; Soft Musick plays;—whilst he wakes by degrees, and gazes round about him, and on himself with Wonder.
Ors.—Gods! what am I? —Or, is there any other God but I?
Ger. Yes, my great Lord; But you’re a King, a mighty Monarch, Sir.
Ors. I understand thee, ‘tis some God thou mean’st.