 | Timanthes |  |
SCENE, A prison.
Ismena seated, Olinthus asleep by her, Attendant.
ISMENA.
Already hush'd in slumber!—O! sleep on,
Dear guiltless babe! these rugged walls to thee,
Are as the costly arras that surrounds
A prince's chamber, and the solemn clank
Of these rude chains, is as the music's note
To lull thee to thy rest—Where is my love,
My lord Timanthes?—Gracious powers! assist him,
And reconcile his soul to life and happiness!
He must, he shall—but look, Ianthe, see
My poor Olinthus smiles—blest omen sure
Of his lov'd father's fortune—happy state,
Of childish innocence—ha! smile again!
Thou dear resemblance of thy hapless fire,
His little self!—O! I could gaze for ever,
Till all the mother, 'wakening in my soul,
Would fix me down to life, to life and thee!
Enter Demophoon and Cephisa.
CEPHISA.
Behold, Demophoon, where reclin'd she hangs
O'er her young son; the silent mourner weeps
In heart-felt anguish—claims not this the tear
Of sympathizing sorrow?
DEMOPHOON.
Yes, Cephisa,
My breast has caught th'infection—and behold
Lost in herself she heeds us not, do thou
Speak comfort to her woes.
CEPHISA.
[going towards Ismena.]
Ismena—
ISMENA.
Ha!
Cephisa!—like some guardian spirit still
Thou hover'st round me—yet can grief retire,
Where goodness such as thine will not pursue?
To thee a mother owes this dear embrace!
But O! what do I see, Demophoon here!
Ah! sir, what means this visit? Com'st thou now
To give my sorrows peace? 'Tis but a moment
That severs life and wretchedness, and, Oh!
Would the same lips that seal Ismena's doom,
Restore Timanthes to a father's love,
To life—to pardon—
[kneels.
DEMOPHOON.
Rise—
ISMENA.
Still let me kneel,
'Tis for Timanthes—wherefore dost thou turn
Thy face to hide the starting tear—O! think,
You see him banish'd from a father's sight,
A wretched prisoner—yet, you answer not—
O speak!—Olinthus! look he wakes—Ianthe,
Haste, bring him, he shall plead his father's cause:
Come, little suppliant, see, Demophoon, see,
Mark but his looks, they cannot plead in vain—
He is your own, whate'er his mother's guilt,
Your royal blood flows in his infant veins,
Think that in him your once-lov'd son implores,
And in Olinthus now behold Timanthes.
DEMOPHOON.
This is too much—O! rise—my daughter rise,
And in a parent's arms forget thy sufferings.
ISMENA.
What do I hear!
DEMOPHOON.
Thy virtues have aton'd
For all that's past—Timanthes shall again
Be yours—Olinthus too—at once we'll bless
The husband and the father.
CEPHISA.
Why, Ismena,
Art thou still silent—see'st thou not that heaven
Crowns every hope Cephisa wish'd to raise?
And dost thou yet distrust the flattering scene?
Dispel thy doubts—
ISMENA.
And shall I then forget
These dreams of grief and terror!—let us leave
In these abodes the phantoms of despair,
And haste to life, to rapture, and Timanthes!
[Exeunt.
Ismena seated, Olinthus asleep by her, Attendant.
ISMENA.
Already hush'd in slumber!—O! sleep on,
Dear guiltless babe! these rugged walls to thee,
Are as the costly arras that surrounds
A prince's chamber, and the solemn clank
Of these rude chains, is as the music's note
To lull thee to thy rest—Where is my love,
My lord Timanthes?—Gracious powers! assist him,
And reconcile his soul to life and happiness!
He must, he shall—but look, Ianthe, see
My poor Olinthus smiles—blest omen sure
Of his lov'd father's fortune—happy state,
Of childish innocence—ha! smile again!
Thou dear resemblance of thy hapless fire,
His little self!—O! I could gaze for ever,
Till all the mother, 'wakening in my soul,
Would fix me down to life, to life and thee!
Enter Demophoon and Cephisa.
CEPHISA.
Behold, Demophoon, where reclin'd she hangs
O'er her young son; the silent mourner weeps
In heart-felt anguish—claims not this the tear
Of sympathizing sorrow?
DEMOPHOON.
Yes, Cephisa,
My breast has caught th'infection—and behold
Lost in herself she heeds us not, do thou
Speak comfort to her woes.
58
[going towards Ismena.]
Ismena—
ISMENA.
Ha!
Cephisa!—like some guardian spirit still
Thou hover'st round me—yet can grief retire,
Where goodness such as thine will not pursue?
To thee a mother owes this dear embrace!
But O! what do I see, Demophoon here!
Ah! sir, what means this visit? Com'st thou now
To give my sorrows peace? 'Tis but a moment
That severs life and wretchedness, and, Oh!
Would the same lips that seal Ismena's doom,
Restore Timanthes to a father's love,
To life—to pardon—
[kneels.
DEMOPHOON.
Rise—
ISMENA.
Still let me kneel,
'Tis for Timanthes—wherefore dost thou turn
Thy face to hide the starting tear—O! think,
You see him banish'd from a father's sight,
A wretched prisoner—yet, you answer not—
O speak!—Olinthus! look he wakes—Ianthe,
Haste, bring him, he shall plead his father's cause:
Come, little suppliant, see, Demophoon, see,
Mark but his looks, they cannot plead in vain—
He is your own, whate'er his mother's guilt,
Your royal blood flows in his infant veins,
Think that in him your once-lov'd son implores,
And in Olinthus now behold Timanthes.
DEMOPHOON.
This is too much—O! rise—my daughter rise,
And in a parent's arms forget thy sufferings.
59
What do I hear!
DEMOPHOON.
Thy virtues have aton'd
For all that's past—Timanthes shall again
Be yours—Olinthus too—at once we'll bless
The husband and the father.
CEPHISA.
Why, Ismena,
Art thou still silent—see'st thou not that heaven
Crowns every hope Cephisa wish'd to raise?
And dost thou yet distrust the flattering scene?
Dispel thy doubts—
ISMENA.
And shall I then forget
These dreams of grief and terror!—let us leave
In these abodes the phantoms of despair,
And haste to life, to rapture, and Timanthes!
[Exeunt.
| Timanthes | |