Eurydice :: :: University of Virginia Library

Eurydice, Melissa, Leonidas.
Leonidas.
Forgive me, Madam,
That I appear before you to impart
A mournful message: but by Procles' order—

Eurydice.
Whate'er proceeds from him, Leonidas,
Must needs be fatal to me. But say on.
No form of ruine is so dreadful now,
As being in his power.

Leonidas.
Unhappy Queen!
Your fate might melt the hardest breast, and teach
Even Cruelty's remorseless eye to weep.
How shall I speak the rest?

Eurydice.
Leonidas!
What is this fatal tale too sad for utterance?
I cannot bear suspense, that worst of tortures—
Is Periander safe?

Leonidas.
This ruinous storm,
Whose sudden outrage—

Eurydice.
Ha! what ships were these,
Say, speak, that sunk but now before our eyes
In sight of shore?

Leonidas.
The very fleet design'd
To rescue you; to free repenting Corinth
From this betrayer, this detested Procles.
The King was there embark'd.

Eurydice.
Then all is lost!

Melissa.
Ah heaven! she faints.

Leonidas.
Behold, ye Gods! this sight.
Remember the curst Author of this ruine.
My eyes, my soul's in tears to see her thus.

Eurydice.
O Periander! my much-injur'd Lord!
Would I had dy'd for thee—Ah! gentle maid,
Was it then he, my husband, whom these eyes
Saw perish in the storm! whose fate I wept,
Nor knew that all the cruel wreck was mine!

Melissa.
Unhappy day!

Eurydice.
Undone Eurydice!
But I will die—I should have dy'd before
When my mean cowardice, my dread of death,

Betray'd me to false Procles. I had then
Dy'd innocent: I had not then deserv'd
A ruin'd husband's curse.—O thought of horror!
Perhaps his latest breath, even in the hour
Of dreadful fate, charg'd me with all his wrongs,
His life and honour lost! perhaps expir'd
In imprecations on me!

Melissa.
Oh, for pity,
Forbear these fatal thoughts. They but inflame
The rage of real ills, and wound you deeper.

Leonidas.
Would tears, my gracious Mistress, aught avail us,
Methinks these aged eyes could number drops
With falling clouds, or the perpetual stream.
But while we mourn, our enemy rejoyces,
And sounds his cruel triumph loud to heaven:
Heart-stabbing thought! Then cease we tears and sighs,
That aid for trivial ills. Call we instead
Heaven's slumbering justice down, and loud invoke
The Powers of vengeance to our aid. Who knows
But some more happy hour remains—

Eurydice.
O no.
There is no happy hour in store for me.
All, all are past and gone. Even Hope himself,
The wretche's latest friend, is fled for ever.
Death and the grave are now my only refuge:
There even my woes may rest.

Leonidas.
And who will then
Befriend your orphan-son? What eye will pity;
What aiding hand rear his fair-springing youth,

And shelter him from want, from woe? Oh none
Think then you hear this darling of your soul,
Your Polydore, call loud on you to live,
To live for him, and by your guardian care
Supply a father's loss.

Eurydice.
Unhappy boy!
Too soon alas! acquainted with ill fortune.
And does he live?

Leonidas.

Those few that scap'd the storm
Gave me to hope he sail'd not with the fleet.

But for this Procles, Madam, this betrayer;
If I have bow'd me to his impious will,
Tho' with that strong abhorrence Nature feels
At what she holds most mortal, 'twas to turn
Against the traitor his own treacherous arts,
And ruin him more surely. This may be.
Sad Corinth looks with horror on the hand
That scourges her each hour with whips of scorpions.
She waits but some fair chance, at once to rise
And drive him from her throne.

Melissa.
These trumpets speak
His near approach.

Eurydice.
Father of human kind!
Eternal Justice! hear these guilty sounds!
Behold this Tyrant's revel! while a King,
Thy great resemblance, floats a cold pale corse;
Or on the naked beach cast vilely out,
Unknown, unhonour'd lies. Leonidas,

By all my griefs I beg thee, search these shores,
Each cliff and cavern where the wild wave beats,
For my lov'd Lord, and to these widow'd arms
Give back his dear remains. But Procles comes.