University of Virginia Library

SCENE, The palace.
Enter Timanthes and Cherinthus.
TIMANTHES.
Away, Cherinthus wilt thou follow still
These steps accurst what would'st thou more of horror?
Leave, leave me to my woes—

CHERINTHUS.
O! yield not thus
To madness of despair—thou art indeed
Unhappy, but the hand of fate alone
Has driven thee down this precipice of ruin;
Thy blameless thoughts—

TIMANTHES.
No more, no more, Cherinthus,
Nought can extenuate have I not destroy'd
A father's peace, and stain'd a royal race
With blackest infamy—by horrid love
Impell'd, did I not trample on the laws,
And leap the bound, that seem'd by heaven design'd
To stop the dreadful union—has not rage
Urg'd these destructive hands—hold, hold, reflection—
Incest and sacrilege—

CHERINTHUS.
Now by the love
You bear Cherinthus, by those awful powers
That view the soul's recess, whose justice marks
The deed of hood-wink'd fate from the black dye
Of voluntary guilt, whose pity still
May sooth thy future life—

TIMANTHES.
My future life!—
Shall I then live to aggravate my crime
To love for, O! with horror I confess
I cannot shake Ismena from my soul—
Here, here she dwells—nor can this awful moment
Raze from my breast the husband and the father,
It will not be—one way—

[draws a dagger.
CHERINTHUS.
Hold, hold, my brother—
What would'st thou do?

MATHUSIUS.
[within.]
Give, give him to my arms—
Enter Mathusius.
Timanthes! my Timanthes! Oh!—

[embrace.
TIMANTHES.
Mathusius!
Why wilt thou save a wretch that must not live?
Away

MATHUSIUS.
O! thou art innocent Demophoon
Gave thee not birth—but I I am thy father—

TIMANTHES.
Thou!—gracious heaven! Is not Ismena then
My sister—Speak, Mathusius—

ISMENA.
[entering.]
Let me fly
To greet him with the sound of love and joy.
Enter Ismena, Cephisa, and Olinthus.
Yes, I will hold him ever to my heart!
Timanthes! 'tis too much—hence every vain
And but fear that frights thee from my arms!
No sister now—no rigid laws oppose
Our union more; Demophoon has confirm'd
Our mutual bliss, and universal Thrace
Shall now be witness to my boundless love!

TIMANTHES.
And is it given me then to clasp thee thus!
To gaze with guiltless transport! speak, my friends,
It cannot be—o'erwhelm'd but now with horrors—
Enter Demophoon with a paper, and Adrastus.
O royal sir! and may I then believe
These blest events—and is Ismena sprung
From your illustrious race—and may I now
Indulge the fond idea—

DEMOPHOON.
Yes, Timanthes,
This has unravell'd all—from yonder fane
I bring this scroll, which has dispell'd the fears
Which first Mathusius rais'd.

TIMANTHES.
All-gracious Heaven!

DEMOPHOON.
Thou wert exchang'd an infant for Ismena;
Argea, baffled in her hopes to give
An heir to Thrace, first by Arsene's birth,
And next Ismena's, from Mathusius' wife
Receiv'd, and gave thee to me as her own;
But verging on the brink of life, she left
A paper with Barcene, to produce,
If aught of danger should attend Ismena,
That paper which Mathusius gave thee first,
While in the houshould temple she dispos'd
This second scroll which has reveal'd thy birth.

TIMANTHES.
Then am I happy still—O! sacred sir!
Forgive each rebel act—but 'twas a cause
Might surely plead—'twas your Ismena—

DEMOPHOON.
Rise,
Come to my arms and be again my son,
This cancels all—

[embrace.
CEPHISA.
[leading Olinthus to him.]
See, see, Timanthes, one
Who claims your dearest care—behold him now—
Look how he reaches out his little hands
To clasp a father's knees, and meet his blessing.

TIMANTHES.
Thy mother's joy!—Olinthus—

ISMENA.
Yes, Timanthes,
It is Olinthus, whom but late you spurn'd
From your embrace—you spurn'd Ismena too—
And will you shun me still—no, no, Timanthes,
I have thee here—my beating heart confesses
Its wonted guest—O! we will part no more!
Our sufferings past shall be the grateful theme
Of many a future hour—Olinthus oft
Shall listen to our talk, and while he dwells
With infant wonder on his parents' story,
Drop the young tear of pity from his eye,
Cling to our breasts, and pay for all our sorrows.

TIMANTHES.
[to Cher.]
My brother! still that tender name is ours,
'Twas doubtless heaven inspir'd me to resign
The birthright I usurp'd—receive thy own.

MATHUSIUS.
Take back, my fate, what now remains of life,
For nothing more is worth an old man's care?

DEMOPHOON.
Mathusius, yes—thou still hast days of joy:
Here let oblivion's veil conceal the past;
We both have been to blame—see in Timanthes
The innocent usurper: thus we stand
Deliver'd from the annual sacrifice;
Cherinthus shall succeed—in him, Cephisa,
Behold the kingdom's heir—but this glad hour
Demands that tribute which the tongue of praise
Owes to that ruling Power who governs all!