Eurydice :: :: University of Virginia Library

Procles.
I know him not.
His dress is poor, and speaks him of the vulgar.
He seems to labour with some stormy thought,
That deeply shakes his frame. What art thou? say
Why at this hour of silence lingring here?
Ha! speak, resolve me; or the rack shall tear
Confession from thy pangs.

Periander
aside.
Fate, thou hast caught me!
But all is equal now.
[to him.
Then see before thee
The man on earth whom thou hast injur'd most.
If guilt can know remorse, what must thou feel
At sight of Periander?

Procles.
Periander!

Eurydice.
Now, now, we both are ruin'd.

Procles.
Heaven, I thank thee.
I form'd but one supreme, one crowning wish,
And thou hast heard it! This is more than triumph!

Eurydice.
O! my lov'd Lord—

Periander.
Thou canst no more betray me,
For thee, my soul still unsubdu'd and free,
Disdains to parle with thine.

Procles.
Yet thou art fallen
Beneath my wrath, the vassal of my nod,

To be chastis'd for mirth—Guards, drag him hence,
And plunge him in the dungeon's depth.

Periander.
Away,
Unkingly boaster. Can prosperity
Debase thee to the cowardice of insult?
Thy brutal manners well revenge me on thee:
They shew thee as thou art—My nobler part,
Th'immortal mind, thy madness cannot reach:
Thy whips and racks can there impress no wound.
And for this weary carcass in thy power,
It is beneath my care. Lead to my dungeon.
Chains, scourges, torture, all that Nature feels,
Or fears abhorrent, cannot shock my thought
Like thy loath'd sight, and that vile Woman's. On.