University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

A cloud descends, concealing the gate of the castle, and the body of Orontes, from Melampus and Madauces.
Madauces
retreating with Melampus.
Around us all is marv'lous.

MELAMPUS.
Those rude blasts,
Whose sudden burst repell'd us—

MADAUCES.
Did not rise
At Nature's summons.

MELAMPUS.
What a cloud is fall'n,
Impenetrably dark, and veils the castle!

MADAUCES.
Nor this a genuine vapour of the earth,
But for some hidden purpose fram'd by magic.
Look, it disperses, and the wind is charm'd
Again to silence. Ha! the king is gone.

MELAMPUS.
Gone! Whither?

MADAUCES.
Ask of heav'n.

MELAMPUS.
Life fled before,
By me expell'd.

MADAUCES.
He only was exhausted
By loss of blood, not dead.

MELAMPUS.
He died, I tell thee.
My fierceness, my severity, destroy'd him.
Why should a wretch like me presume to censure
Another's frailty? I, who nurse within me
Two living vipers, horror and remorse,
I with the venom of my breath have blasted
His languid spirit.

MADAUCES.
O for ever blind
To thy own merit, thou didst then surpass
Thy wonted magnanimity and patience.
The snowy range of yonder hills displays
Not whiter fleeces to the morning's ray,
Than doth repentance to the eye of heav'n
Thy bosom, blanch'd from guilt.

MELAMPUS.
It cannot be.
I feel myself detestable and hideous.

MADAUCES.
Shall never night return, but thou despond?

MELAMPUS.
No, never night to me shall usher peace,
Nor the sun joy.

MADAUCES.
O'ertoil'd, thou wantest rest.

MELAMPUS.
Where shall I find it?

MADAUCES.
Come, recline thy head
On me.

MELAMPUS.
No, rather dash it on a rock,
And so compose me to eternal rest.

MADAUCES.
What would befal me then?

MELAMPUS.
Ah! what, indeed,
Benevolent and venerable man,
Who thy paternal mansion dost abandon
To hear my howlings in these desert shades?
All who consort with me are doom'd to woe.
What is become of this unhappy king?

MADAUCES.
Snatch'd from our sight by necromantic pow'r.
Now let us try, what spot secure and tranquil
This wilderness may yield us. I will stand
A watchful guardian o'er thy head to wave
This awful rod, and meditate some charm,
Which may in silence bind the restless throat
Of night's shrill bird; the lion of his rage,
The fell hyæna of her craft disarm,
And lurking tiger's vigilance elude;
That, undisturb'd, on sleep's refreshing lap
Thy manly vigour may relieve its toils:
Then like an eagle springing from his nest,
With wings expanded and undazzled sight,
To meet the sun, intrepid shalt thou rise,
Shalt look on glory, and forget thy woes.