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That only way is left us to die-free.

Cleom. All's lost for which I once desired to live.

Panth. Come to our business then. Be speedy, sir, And give the word; I'll be the first, to charge The grim foe, death.

Cleom. Fortune, thou hast reduced me very low, To do the drudgery of fate myself. What! not one brave Egyptian! not one worthy To do me manly right in single combat ! To fall beneath my fury?--for that's justice: But then to drag me after :-for, to die, And yet in death to conquer, is my wish. Clean. Then have your wish: The gods at last

are kind, And have provided you a sword that's worthy To match your own: 'Tis an Egyptian's too.

Cleom. Is there that hidden treasure in thy country? The gods be praised, for such a foe I want.

Clean. Not such a foe, but such a friend am I. I would fall first, for fear I should survive you, And pull you after to make sure in death, To be your undivided friend for ever.

Cleom. Then enter we into each other's breasts, 'Tis a sharp passage, yet a kind one too. But, to prevent the blind mistake of swords, Lest one drop first, and leave his friend behind, Both thrust at once, and home, and at our hearts : Let neither stand on guard, but let our bosoms Lie open to each other in our death, As in our life they were. Clean. I seal it thus.

[Kiss and embrace. Panth. And where's my part? You shut me out,

like churls, While you devour the feast of death betwixt you. Cleom. Cheer up thy soul, and thou shalt die,

Pantheus,
But in thy turn; there's death enough for all.

But, as I am thy master, wait my leisure,
And honestly compose my limbs to rest,
Then serve thyself.-Now, are you ready, friend?

Clean. I am.
Cleom. Then this to our next happy meeting.
[They both push together, then stagger back-

wards, and fall together in each other's Arms. Clean. Speak, have I served you to your wish, my

friend? Cleom. Yes, friend thou hast I have thee

in my heart Say- art thou sped ?

Clean. I am, --'tis my last breath.
Cleom. And mine-then both are happy.

Both die. Panth. So, this was well performed, and soon dis

patched; Both sound asleep already, And farewell both for one short moment.

[Trumpets sound Victory within. Those are the foes; our little band is lost For want of these defenders. I must hasten, Lest I be forced to live, and led in triumph, Defrauded of my fate. I've earned it well, And finished all my task: This is my place, Just at my master's feet. --Guard him, ye gods, And save his sacred corpse from public shame.

[He falls on his Sword, and lies at the foot of

CLEOMENES.—Dies. Enter Sosibius, CASSANDRA, and Egyptians. Sosib. 'Twas what my heart foreboded : There he

lies, Extended by the man whom best he loved ! A better friend than son.

Cas. What's he, or thou? or Ptolemy? or Egypt? Or all the world, to Cleonienes lost?

Sosib. Then I suspected right. If my revenge Can ease my sorrow, this the king shall know, That thou may’st reap the due reward of treason, And violated love.

Cas. Thy worst, old dotard.
I wish to die; but if my mind should change,
So well I know my power, that thou art lost.

Sosib. The king's arrival shall decide our fate.---
Mean time, to show how much I honour virtue,
Take up that hero's body, bear it high,
Like the procession of a deity:

Let his armed figure on his tomb be set,
And we, like slaves, lie grovelling at his feet,
Whose glories growing till his latest breath,
Excelled all others, and his own in death.

[Exeunt. EPILOGUE,

SPOKEN BY MRS BRACEGIRDLE.

This day, the Poet, bloodily inclined,
Has made me die, full sore against my mind !
Some of you naughty men, I fear, will cry,
Poor rogue! would I might teach thee how to die!
Thanks for your love; but I sincerely say,
I never mean to die, your wicked way.
Well, since it is decreed all flesh must go,
(And I am flesh,--at least for aught you know)
I first declare, I die with pious mind,
In perfect charity with all mankind.
Next for my will:I have, in my dispose,
Some certain moveables would please you beaux ;
As, firot, my youth; for, as I have been told,
Some of you modish sparks are devilish old.
My chastity I need not leave among ye;
For, to suspect old fops, were much to wrong ye.
You swear you're sinners; but for all your haste,
Your misses shake their heads, and find you

chaste.
I give my courage to those bold commanders,
Who stay with us, and dare not go for Flanders.
I leave my truth (to make his plot more clear)
Tc Mr Fuller, when he next shall swear *.

* William Fuller was an informer, who pretended, about this time, to make discovery of a formidable plot, by the Jacobites, against the government. But his luck was not so great as that of his prototype, Titus Oates; for the House of Commons finding him unable to produce the witnesses, to whom he referred for support of his tale, on the 24th February 1691, declared him “ a notorious impostor, a cheat, and a false accuser, having scandalized their Majesties, and their government, abused this house, and falsely accused several persons of honour and quality.” Fuller was prosecuted by the Attorney General for this offence, and punished by the pillory; notwithstanding which he did not profit by Mrs Bracegirdle's legacy, so as to make “his next plot more clear ;" for, in 1702, he was sentenced to the same painful elevation, for publishing an impudent forgery, concerning the birth of the Prince of Wales, son to James II.-See State Trials, vol. VI. p. 442; and the Journals of the House of Commons, for February 1691.

I give my judgment, craving all your mercies,
To those that leave good plays, for damned dull farces.
My small devotion let the gallants share,
That come to ogle us at evening prayer.
I give my person let me well consider,-
Faith e'en to him that is the fairest bidder;
To some rich hunks, if any be so bold
To
say

those dreadful words, To have and hold.
But stay--to give, and be bequeathing still,
When I'm so poor, is just like Wickham's will :
Like that notorious cheat, vast sums I give,
Only that you may keep me while I live .
Buy a good bargain, gallants, while you may;

but
your

half-a-crown a day.

I'll cost you

• Of Wickham I can learn nothing; but the nature of his imposture is easily to be gathered from the text.

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