University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Enter Antigone, attended by two Women.
SCENE the out-Gates of a Prison.
Ant.
I'm torn! I'm torn! by Sorrow, Rage, Despair!
No Tydings yet of my Philisthenes?
I dare not, dare not ask, lest on my head
I pull the Thunder of some dreadful news.
Like a low Vale between two raging Seas,
Of Fear and Hope, I lye, and hourly expect
A deluge of delight, or of despair.
But oh! the Seas rowl fastest from despair:
For I like not this new and strange Command
Sent from my Father, to come visit here,
In her sad prison, the afflicted Queen.
(For if she sinn'd as some believe, I hate
To call her Mother) but of late she was
A hated, out-cast, and forbidden thing.
My Father wou'd not suffer to come near
This doleful dwelling, any thing he lov'd.
Then he has heard our Love, and is enrag'd;
If so, my dear Philisthenes is dead,
And with my Mother I'm condemn'd to dye.
It must be so! I grow exceeding ill.

1. Wom.
Oh! help! the Princess! help! she faints away.

Ant.
No matter what I do—let me alone!—
Oh! my Philisthenes! 'twill not be long
E're I be with thee!—Call the men that Guard
The Queen, my wretched Mother.

1. Wom.
Ho! within!

Enter a Keeper.
Keep.
Who calls?

1. Wom.
Come to the Princess.

Keep.
What's her will?

Ant.
Know you this Signet?

Keep.
Yes, it is the Kings.

Ant.
I must have entrance here.

Keep.
Madam, you shall.

Ant.
Let the Queen know that by the Kings command
I come to wait on her.

Keep.
I'le tell the Queen.

[Ex.
Ant.
Now Gods prepare me for th'afflicting sight.
For if report be true, the alter'd Queen
Is the most doleful Object in the World.

The Scene is drawn, the Queen in Hair-cloth, Chains at her Legs, she lies on the ground, a Lamp burning by her.
Qu.
My Daughter see me by the Kings command?
What does he mean? No good to us, I fear?

Ant.
Is that the Queen? Is that my Mother? oh!

Qu.
My Daughter there? Antigone! my Child!

[Rises and Embraces her.
Ant.
Ah! Mother!

Qu.
Daughter!

Ant.
O! my Tears! my Tears!
I cannot speak!

Qu.
Weep in my Bosom Child,
And let thy poor sad Mother weep in thine.
Come rest thy self, my Daughter, sit thee down
On the hard Floor, thy Mothers only Bed;
And hear the mournfull'st Story in the World.

Ant.
Oh! Mother! Mother!

Qu.
Oh! my lov'd, my dear,
My precious Comfort, dearer than my Life.
My Life! What is my miserable Life?
Dear as my Life was in my happy state.
And happy! oh! too happy once I was;
My Massy happiness tyr'd out my Fate,
It cou'd not carry it to my lives end.
Never did Woman love a Man more dear
Than I once did, and still do love the King;
Be witness all the Gods to what I say,
And ne're was Woman more belov'd by man
Than I was by the King,—until—oh! Child,
I cannot speak how sadly I have been wrong'd.

Ant.
Oh! my Dear Mother! I believe you indeed,
All the Gods know I ne're thought otherwise.

Qu.
Thyestes! (oh! Hell is in that Name,)
Me his own Brother's Wife, his dear lov'd Wife,
Me whom his Brother trusted to his Care,
Bruitishly forc'd—

Ant.
Oh! horrid!

Qu.
And then sought
To get, by fraud, the Sacred Golden Fleece,
The Monument and Instrument of Fate,
To gain the Kingdom to secure his Sin,
And retain me a Pris'ner for his Lust.

Ant.
All this I've heard, and ever did believe;
But no kind God wou'd e're conveigh this Faith
Into my Fathers Soul.

Qu.
Oh! no, my Child;
Then think, oh! think, what are thy Mothers wrongs;
And what her dismal alter'd sad Estate.

Ant.
Oh! Gods! was ever any thing so sad?

Qu.
Oh! I have know the time, I'd not have let
Such dirty Earth as this come near my Feet,
Which now is all the Lodging that I have:
I wou'd not once have vext my curious Eye
With seeing such a Garment as I wear,
Nor suffer'd to have come into my sight
So vile a Creature as my self appears.

Ant.
No more, no more, dear Mother.

Qu.
O! my Child,
These outward pains are pleasures, when compar'd
With what I feel within me; for the loss
Of all my honour and my Husbands Love.
The Heavens are not so spotless as my Soul,
Nor Gods so fond of Heaven as I of him;
Yet am I thought a Strumpet, nay a lew'd
Incestuous monstrous Strumpet!—Furies—Hell—
Stand from me, Child, for I shall do thee hurt;
My Wits are going; when I think of this
They always leave me—stand away dear Child.
Who says I am a Strumpet? is it thou?
Lyar! 'tis well I have thee in my Arms,
I'le throw thee piece-meal to the Furies—thus!

[Tears her self. Ant. holds her Hands.
Ant.
Oh! Mother! Mother! 'tis your self you rend.

Qu.
How now, contend with me? This is a Whore.

Ant.
Help, the Queen's mad!—

Qu.
Ay! help me from a Whore
That comes to get my Husband from my Arms:
Oh! this is right the Picture of the Age,
A shining Strumpet, and a tatter'd Wife.
Indeed! and am I thus abus'd for thee?
Some Water there! I'm burnt out o' my Bed,
My Husbands Arms, by a hot flaming whore.

Ant.
Oh! Mother! Mother! I'm Antigone
Your Daughter! oh! the Queen will kill me! help!

Qu.
The Fire goes out! alloo! the ashes flye!
[Pulls some loose Ornaments from Ant.
So, now in the King's arms I will go sleep.

[Falls.
Ant.
Help! help the Queen! what are there none in call?
Ha! her Heart strongly beats, breath comes and goes
Upon Lifes errant, with no little force.
Then all is well I hope! she sweetly sleeps.
Her raving Spirit's in a wild uproar,
Thrust her in tumults to the Vaults of sleep,
Then shut the door with violence upon her.
Sleep on, dear Mother, heal thy wounded mind
With these sweet balmy slumbers; though, alas,
'Tis only heal'd for new and deeper wounds.
Oh! were there ever two so innocent;
And yet so miserable as we are?

Enter Keeper.
Keep.
Where is the Queen?

Ant.
Peace, peace, she's fallen asleep.

Keep.
The King is coming here to visit her.

Ant.
The King?

Keep.
The King.

Ant.
See in her Sleep she smiles,
Her Spirits rebound at mentioning a Name
That has such sweet agreement with her Soul;
As strings when tun'd alike, if one be touch'd
The other leaps; and now she starts, as if
She fain wou'd break through all the Gates of Sleep
To meet the Voice that bears the pleasing sound;
And now she wakes.

Qu.
Oh! I have had a sweet
Reviving slumber; not these many months
Have I been so refresh'd. Antigone!
Now I perceive whence I had all my rest,
From the delight my Soul did take in thee.
But, oh! my Child! was I not very ill
Before I slept? did I no hurt at all?

Ant.
Yes to your self I fear.

Qu.
If that be all,
It is no matter; 'tis as it shou'd be,
I am the Center of all Miseries.
What wander from me, leave their proper course.

Enter Women with a rich Robe, and other Attires.
Wom.
Madam, the King—

Qu.
The King, ha! what of him?

Wom.
Sends you these Robes, and begs you wou'd be pleas'd
With these to hide your misery from his sight,
And let the wondrous joy he means to take
In seeing you, be pure from any grief.

Qu.
Will he see me? and can the sight of me
Be joy to him? Why does he tell me this?
He does not well to make the miseries
Of his poor ruin'd, injur'd Wife, his sport;
I love him dearly, (witness all ye Gods)
In spite of all my sufferings and wrongs.

Ant.
Oh! Mother! Mother! sudden beams of hope
Shine out upon me; oh! there is a change!

Wom.
Madam, upon our lives we tell you truth,
The stormd toss'd King is on the sudden calm,
We know not what shou'd charm the billows down,
Except the good old Peneus.

Ant.
Oh! no doubt,
It was the Wisdom of that wond'rous man.

Enter Keeper.
Keep.
The King is near.

Qu.
Fling the Robe loosely o're;
I never yet dissembled with the King;
Nor hid from him was ever yet my heart:
The wretch I am, let his own Eyes behold,
I ne're deserv'd to be thus cast away.

Enter Atreus attended: The Queen kneels.
Atr.
Kneeling? this must not be!—Rise, Madam, rise.

Qu.
I do not kneel, Sir, as a Criminal,
But as an innocent poor Woman, thrown
By grievous wrongs into a state unfit
For you to see; I fall upon the Earth
To hide my self, and save your generous heart
From the affliction it must bear to see
My woful change, whether deserv'd or not.

Atr.
Kneeling's a state I cannot bear to see.

Qu.
You may be, Sir, assur'd I'le quit it then.

[Chairs brought.
Atr.
Now seat your self—Madam, I think you'l own
I lov'd you well.

Qu.
I were ungrateful else:
And I lov'd you as dearly the Gods know,
And I have ever been your faithful Wife,
And ne're deserv'd to lose that glorious Name.

Atr.
Well, Madam, I will shew I love you still,
If you have wrong'd me, be it to your self.
The Gods forgive you freely, as I do:
If not, Gods bring your innocence to light.

Qu.
Oh! Gods! good Gods! grant! grant! so good a prayer.

Atr.
However, Madam, whatsoe're you be,
All things are so forgot, as if the Gods
Had made a Queen o' purpose for my Love,
And you were newly come out of their hands,
Just when they finish'd you, and said 'tis well,
We cannot add one beauty to our work;
So I receive you to my arms and heart.

Qu.
Oh! this is too much joy for me to bear,
You build new Palaces on broken Walls.

Atr.
Madam, Eternal Gates are lock'd and bar'd
On all past deeds, ne're to be open'd more,
By this new happy meeting of our Lips,
Which have been Strangers now these many Months;
You are as dear to me, as when you came
A fond young beautious Virgin to my Arms.

Qu.
How bounteous are the Gods in the Rewards
Of suffering Innocence?

Atr.
Oh! my dear Queen!
Never admit past sufferings in thy thoughts,
I'le have this joyful day without one Cloud.
And joy shall shine through all my Family:
Even my Brother shall not want his share.

Qu.
Your Brother!

Atr.
Yes, I can forgive, even him;
Nay, have invited him home to my Court,
Both to receive my Pardon and my Love.

Qu.
Invite that wicked man home to your Court!

Atr.
You do not know how dearly once we lov'd.

Qu.
Nor you believe how much he injur'd me.

Atr.
I know his violent desires by mine;
We were so one, one Fire must burn us both,
And where Fire comes all things asunder fall;
Our Union ruin'd us, but I'le build
Our Friendship more magnificent than ever.

Qu.
Then will my Life as wretched be as ever;
The sight of him will like a Winter Cloud,
Darken and Freeze the Joy I have in you.

Atr.
I send not home for him, who did you wrong,
But him whose penitence has done you right,
Wicked Thyestes you shall ne're see more,
But new Thyestes so to goodness chang'd,
You will know nothing of him but his Name.
Oppose not then what all the Gods design,
These breaches threaten ruine to our House;
But the good Gods design our House shall stand.
Did you ne're see a weather-beaten Wall
Breed up young Ivy to support its age?
By Heavenly care from us bad men is sprung
An excellent Race, to bind our Friendship close,
And stop up all the breaches in our House.
The Gods ne're made a more accomplish'd Youth,
Than his sweet Eldest Son, Philisthenes.

Ant.
Oh! Gods!

Atr.
And I have sworn to marry him
To my beloved Child, Antigone.

Ant.
With all the pleasing wonder mixt with dread,
[Aside.
A crowd behold a shining God descend,
Have I been looking for this glorious news,
'Tis lighted on me, and I'm overwhelm'd.

Atr.
Child, you have seen your noble Kinsman oft,
What think you of him? Cou'd you love him? speak.

Ant.
My thoughts are always in your keeping, Sir.

Atr.
Well answer'd, Daughter: Love your Kinsman then,
Give him your Heart; but give him not such hold,
But you may take it back, if ill shou'd chance,
And ill may happen; I have sent the Youth
With good old Peneus, to invite to Court
My exil'd Brother; if he shou'd not come,
I shou'd relapse into my grief again.
The Noble Youth, at parting, left with me
A wealthy Token for you, his dear Love:
But you shall take no Presents from the Son,
Unless the Father first accept of mine:
Which for my Comfort beg of Heaven he may.

Ant.
Oh! how devoutly will I make that Prayer?

Qu.
Oh! wondrous goodness!

Atr.
Now my dearest Wife,
And my Antigone, embrace me both.

Qu.
Oh! Sir!

Ant.
Oh! Father!—

Atr.
Oh! my perfect joy,
Come let our new-born pleasures breath sweet air;
This Room's too vile a Cabinet for Gold.
Then leave, for ever, Love, this doleful place,
And leave behind thee all thy sorrows here,
And dress thy self as this great day requires;
'Twill be thy Daughters Nuptials, and I dreamt
The Sun himself wou'd be asham'd to come
And be a Guest in his old tarnish'd Robe,
But leave my Court t'enlighten all the Globe.

[Ex.
Enter Thyestes.