 | Merope |  |
SCENE II.
Narbas, Ismene, follow'd by a Train of Virgins in white, who bring Baskets, and strew Flowers on the Tomb.ISMENE.
Who is this bold Unknown? So sagely form'd!
Yet indiscretely rude—at such an Hour,
To break, abruptly, on the Queen's sad Purpose!
NARBAS.
Fairest, of Forms—
ISMENE.
Who are you?
NARBAS.
Chide me not,
Sweet Picture of the Powers, who shed soft Pity!
—I am a nameless, friendless, weak, old Man.
Once, I was Servant, to the Queen you serve;
O, grant the gracious Privilege, to see her.
ISMENE.
Rev'rend, and Wife! The first, I see you are:
The last, my Heart conceives you—what a Time
Have your misguided Wants unaptly chosen!
Your Sight wou'd, now, offend her.—Deep Distress,
From dire Solemnity of Purpose, brings her,
—'Twere prudent to withdraw.
NARBAS.-
[in a low Voice,
Come near—Ismene.
ISMENE.
Immortal Powers! Who can it be?—He knows me!
Fain wou'd I dare mix Hope, with Fear and Wonder.
[approaching him.
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Thou art my Child. Kind Heaven has sent thee, to me.
—Be cautious—and observe.
ISMENE.
[Kneeling.
Prophetic Heart!
Oh, Sir—I cannot speak!
NARBAS,
[raising her.
Hide thy Surprize,
Ere yet some dang'rous Note detects our Meeting.
—Soft as thy Eyes Ismene, be thy Voice.
And answer to my Question—round this Tomb.
Why thus assembled moves that virgin Train?
ISMENE.
Alas! the afflicted Queen,
Distracted comes,—to offer on this Tomb,
Her Life's last Sacrifice—a dreadful Victim!
—The Murd'rer of her Son.
NARBAS.
Eumenes, dead?—
ISMENE.
Alas, Sir! cou'd you be a Stranger to it?
NARBAS.
Blast! of my Soul's best Hope.—Who dar'd this Villainy?
ISMENE.
A Youth, who found him in Alcides' Temple.
One, from whose Air of manly Modesty
None, surely cou'd have fear'd—behold! he comes.
That fetter'd Criminal is He.—Oh, Sir!
Where will you, now, be hid?
NARBAS.
In Death, Ismene:
If I now hear and see—and am not dreaming!
ISMENE.
From the Queen's Eye, I dare no longer.—
NARBAS
[holding her.
Stay.
Queens, Kings, nor Gods, shall tear thee from my Arm,
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| Merope | |