University of Virginia Library

ACT. III.

SCENE I.

Enter Ammon.
Omphales! hovering still about this Place,
[Discovering his Approach.
And ling'ring in his Task!—'tis not so well,
I thought e'er this he had reach'd the Gates of Athens.

SCENE II.

Enter Omphales to Ammon.
Omphales.
Am I on Earth? Or have the Gods receiv'd me?
A Summons, Ammon, welcome as the Voice
Which whispers Liberty to Dungeon Slaves;
Pleasing as Dreams of Health to the Diseas'd;
Or Hope to the despairing Penitent.
Th' indulgent Maid hastes to the conscious Bow'r,
The former Scene of more successful Love;
Thither invites me to a last Farewel!
But when again I find her downy Bosom,
Shall I forgo the happy, lov'd Retreat?
Return content that we have mourn'd our Fate?—
No!—'tis resolv'd!—

Ammon.
All's ruin'd if they meet!

[Aside.
Omphales.
Exile with her, or for her Death is pleasing!

[Going off.
Ammon.
No! You depart not thus!

[Detaining him.
Omphales.
Delay me not!

Ammon.
A Moment!

Omphales.
Moments are too precious now!—
This is too much!—

Ammon.
By the dear Name of Friend!

Omphales.
My Friend! and hold me from Hesione!
Away!—By Heav'ns, I can endure no more!

Ammon.
By Heav'ns, I must detain thee! hear me speak!
You cannot meet!

Omphales.
Hah!—cannot:—by the Gods!
If any Tongue but thine had spoke these Words,
I wou'd have call'd it false!

Ammon.
Thou art too warm!
What I relate, I tell thee from her Mouth,
And learnt e'en now to save thee! Is it thus
Omphales pays my Care? Am I thrown off,
Spurn'd with Contempt, cast, like a fawning Slave,
From him, whose Wrongs I've labour'd to redress?
Whose Sorrows are my own?—Why then no more:
But hasten to Destruction!

Omphales.
Oh my Friend!
Forgive me! I'm become a froward Wretch!
Wearied beyond the Pow'r of Patience!—
Say, whence this sudden Change?

Ammon.
Her jealous Father
Has torn the Secret of your Meeting from her:
And since, before the Altar he has sworn,
If e'er again you're found within these Walls,
To treat you as a common Enemy!
A Robber; or a Persian!

Omphales.
Mistaken Man!
Oh, how unequal is the State of Lovers?
A Moment's Hope elates us to the Clouds;
And in a Moment more some sudden Fear,
Some Disappointment pulls us down again
Lower than Envy's self cou'd wish to place us!
—But tell me, Ammon, tell me from thy Soul,
How does she bear our Separation?

Ammon.
You cannot doubt her?

Omphales.
That were impious!

Ammon.
Nor shall you fear th' Extremity of Grief:
Yet justly she bemoans her absent Mate.
Remote she sat; her Words were few and forc'd;
Her Eyes still fix'd; her Posture still the same:
Down either Cheek a Tear had made its Way,
Two more stood ripe, and ready to pursue 'em;
And had not Sighs inform'd me she cou'd breathe,
She'ad seem'd the Image of despairing Beauty.
Not Venus look'd more lovely in her Sorrow,
When she beheld the Youth Adonis slain!
Yet she might raise her Head to speak of you!

Omphales.
By Heav'ns, I see her!—Oh, my tortur'd Soul!—
So truly do I love her Happiness,
I almost wish she might forget me now!
Yet all my Comfort is—that cannot be!
Oh, Ammon, if thy breast hath ever heav'd
For Sorrows not thy own; if yet thy Heart
Hath prov'd the anxious Pain of hopeless Love,
Thou now must feel for an unhappy Friend!

Ammon.
I'm not to learn Love's Pangs—there was a Time!

Omphales.
And coud'st thou truly love? and dost thou live
To tell it, as an idle Dream that's past?

Ammon.
Thou art, indeed, a Lover!

Omphales.
I am true:
Nor blush to own it—Oh, Hesione!
The Pain I feel, instructs me what you suffer!
I fear! I fear! for you are all compos'd
Of Tenderness!—O Ammon, tell me all!
Deceive me not! Speak all her Sorrow out!
The worst unfold! Her very Words impart!
Hide her not from me!

Ammon.
O, she utter'd all
That Love in Pain, and Absence might conceive:
Oft o'er, and o'er again she told her Passion;
For Love, tho' in a thousand Modes it speaks,
Says but one thing: the varied Eloquence
Of Lovers means no more, than that they Love.
'Midst other Things, she joy'd, you had receiv'd
What I propos'd; for I had told her all.

Omphales.
And she approv'd it?

Ammon.
Wish'd it were begun!
Urg'd its Performance! and my Fancy errs,
Or she preferr'd it in her parting Words
To thee! even here!—“Omphales will not rest,
“Nor think of Peace without me!

Omphales.
Now, by Heav'ns
Such were her Words!

Ammon.
And in the instant chang'd
Her Sorrow into Frowns, as she had meant—
There's need of Violence!—mark'd you not that?

Omphales.
Ammon, as there are Gods in yon bright Heav'n!
I will not rest! I will not think of Peace,
'Till I accomplish all! I've linger'd here too long.
Farewel! be ready to perform thy Charge.
The beauteous Prize already chides my Sloth,
Stands at the Goal, and beckons me away.

[Exit Omphales.
Ammon.
Farewel, my Friend! if e'er we meet again,
And meet as Foes, I meet but with a Man.

SCENE III.

Enter Tryphon to Ammon.
Tryphon.
Hope, Ammon, hope!
All shall be well!

Ammon.
He has consented then?

Tryphon.
Not absolutely given his Consent;
Nor have I grossly put him to the Test;
But only by Insinuations
Have yet obliquely touch'd upon the Subject;
Observing how he might be wrought upon;
How far we might proceed with Confidence.
As thus;—supposing you had lov'd his Daughter!
That Providence had thrown you in her Way!
—I gag'd him so—He answers in a Sigh,
And wish'd some Pow'r might guide him to her Good.

Ammon.
Excellent Tryphon!—we must lose no Time:
While warm, he'll best be form'd to our Intent.

Tryphon.
Fear not! I left him at the Sacrifice:
Soon as 'tis ended, he appointed me
To meet him here; then will I press it home,
And in such Terms as shall not fail to move.

Ammon.
A Doubt yet haunts my Mind—Hesione,
She bears her Disappointment heavily,
And may be violent.

Tryphon.
Her Father's Will
Is sacred to her, as the Law of Heaven!
How is she fam'd for her Obedience?
I look not on her, as on one consenting:
But, trust me, Ammon, many a stubborn Maid
Softens like Wax in the Embracer's Hold,
And yields to strange Impressions in his Arms.

Ammon.
O, let me feel the mourning Beauty there!
I'll kiss away her Tears, suppress her Sighs,
Warm her, and find the Passage to her Heart;
While, like a Flow'r reviving in the Sun,
She shall look up, and bless her Comforter!
Joy, like the Light, shall break thro' all her Sorrow,
Chear her sad Heart, and drive Omphales thence!

Tryphon.
First he must hence! 'tis he whom we shou'd fear,
'Tis him we shou'd suspect of Violence!
Secure him instantly!—I've had a Thought—
Suppose him Dead! it shall be after told,
And with a shew of Reason, that Despair
Drew his own Sword against him.

Ammon.
'Tis too late:
My Care already has diverted him.
I took him in the height of Disappointment;
Acted the Friend; discours'd his Injuries o'er,
Told him I felt 'em all, and thus advis'd him.
Get thee to Athens; to the noble Youth,
Thy Friends, and Partners of the sacred Band,
The Band, which by a solemn League are bound,
To succour, and redress each other's Wrongs.
Tell 'em, how Zimon has dishonour'd thee;
Conjure 'em, to assist thee in thy Right;
Select a resolute, and a faithful Few;
Secure 'em in the Covert of yon Grove,
'Till, at my promis'd Signal, they rush in
Impetuous, and bear away the Maid.
Blinded with Love, he embrac'd the Enterprize,
And, to confirm his Resolution,
I told him, that Hesione approv'd it.

Tryphon.
But how hast thou secur'd him from Success?

Ammon.
Know, it is thus contriv'd! this very Hour
A Paper will be found before the Senate,
Declaring the whole Purpose of Omphales;
Their very Place of Consultation.
Imagine the Result of this Attempt!
Can such a Violence against this House
Be known, and prosper? at a Juncture too
When Athens must implore her Gen'ral's Aid?

Tryphon.
True! Valour's ever courted in Distress.

Ammon.
Nay, more! our Law makes instant Banishment
The Meed of such Offenders.

Tryphon.
Yet whene'er again
Thy Friend grows dang'rous, see him in his Tomb!
So is he well secur'd! the Maxim's good:
A sanguine Politician taught it me.
It might have sav'd thee too from Calumny.
How will the rigid Votaries of Justice
Exclaim against thee, shou'd it e'er be known,
How you've deceiv'd this Friend? this Intimate?

Ammon.
Out on the subtle Herd! let me succeed,
And thou shalt find 'em loudest in my Praise:
The Fortunate were never in the Wrong.
Invest me once in Zimon's large Possessions,
My Faults shall die, and Flatt'ry will not fail
To picture Virtues for me.

Tryphon.
Let, at lest,
The Name of Friend be lost! contrive some Slight
Of which thou may'st accuse him.

Ammon.
Be it so!

Tryphon.
'Twill set some Gloss upon this Action.
—Tho' if I fail not in my Stratagem,
Zimon shall even court thee to thy Wish.

Ammon.
Succeed what will succeed!—I'm well resolv'd!
Tho' poor, I'm proud; and cannot suffer Scorn;
Have Appetites, and want the Means to feed 'em.
Courage, Extravagance, and Luxury
Was all th' Inheritance my Father left me.
My Pride is my fond Mother's Legacy:
My young Hippolitus! she oft wou'd cry,
My little Theseus! thou art nobly born!
Sprung from a Race of Heroes, and of Gods!
—Then in the Streets of Athens thus they have it—
Behold the Orphan! Zimon's Pensioner!—
How is that House decay'd!—By Heav'ns a Dog
Wou'd blush, and turn to be so pointed at!

Tryphon.
No more of this! the happy Change is near!
Learn to forget thy self, and thy old Friends.
Henceforth thou shalt be reckon'd with the First;
At Feasts, and Games be plac'd next Zimon's self;
Shine in the Tyrian Dye; be gaz'd upon;
Envy'd by many, yet caress'd by all.
The Time draws on—thou hast a Part to act
In my Design, which now thou art to learn.

Ammon.
But see! the Object of my Wish appears!
And, like Aurora wrapt in sullen Clouds,
Advances mourning. Yet so ripe she seems!
Her Charms so ready! so compos'd for Love!

Tryphon.
Let us not now be found in Conference!
I wou'd retire.

Ammon.
To yonder Portico—
I will but gaze awhile, and follow thee.

[Exit Tryphon.

SCENE IV.

Enter Hesione to Ammon.
Hesione.
It must be so! the Message which I sent
Has either misinform'd him of the Place;
Or thro' some Treach'ry never reach'd his Ears.
Hah! Ammon here!—he haply may inform me.

Ammon.
If 'tis the lost Omphales whom you seek,
The Man whose Fate I once sincerely mourn'd,
In vain you ask him of his old Companion:
Inrag'd, impatient he departed hence,
Loud against me, 'gainst Heaven, and his Fate;
And, when I would have been a Comfort to him,
He spurn'd me off; and bid me fawn no more!

Hesione.
Forget it, Ammon; much he has endur'd,
And, like a wayward Infant, shou'd be sooth'd,
And soften'd into Temper. Thou'rt sincere,
And earnest, and too apt to think thou'rt wrong'd.

Ammon.
Thou art sincere, and earnest, and too apt
To think thou'rt—

Hesione.
What?

Ammon.
Belov'd!

Hesione.
I take thee not.

Ammon.
He swore that you, and all your Sex were false;
That he had been at some appointed Place—
I know not where—but that you had contriv'd
T' abuse his Patience, and insult his Love.

Hesione.
Unhappy Youth! his Troubles are too great,
And Reason fails beneath the Weight of Sorrow:
For he himself cou'd never call me False,
Ne'er doubt my Truth! his is a generous Soul,
Noble, and glorious as the Form he wears!
Love, and Suspicion dwell not there together.
You too forgive him, Ammon; 'tis too much
In one sad Day to lose his Friend, and me:
Nor wonder, you was treated with Disdain,
When I might not be spar'd.

Ammon.
This his Return
Of Friendship?—thus I blow such Friends away!

Hesione.
Thou'rt lost with Ease.

Ammon.
I am not won so soon!—
My Soul abhors the least Ingratitude!

[Exit Ammon.

SCENE V.

Hesione sola.
Omphales Breast is Stranger to such Baseness!
When Nature form'd him, she forgot 'twas Man,
And made him up of Virtues!—this his Friend?
The boasted, happy Sharer of his Heart?
My Mind informs me wrong, or he's deceiv'd.
This looks like Treach'ry—something I cou'd dread!
But what, alas! have Wretches left to fear—
Yes! to another's Arms I may be forc'd:
But then I know my Vow, and will prepare.
Oh my Omphales! whither art thou fled
From the lov'd Haven where thy Soul might rest!
Like some poor Turtle widow'd of her Love,
Anxious, I sought thee long thro' ev'ry Grove:
But oh! the restless, fond Pursuit is vain;
Pensive, I find my sad Retreat again,
Brood o'er my Care, and murmur out my Pain.

[Exit.