University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

A magnificent apartment destined for Themistocles. Vases with gold and jewels.
Themistocles
alone.
Behold thy fortune chang'd! Behold thy station,
How different now, Themistocles! But late
Oppress'd with every want; thou soughtst in vain
The shelter of a cottage: now possess'd
Of this rich dwelling, blazing round with pomp
Of wealth and splendor: Thou behold'st in heaps
Unbounded treasures: to thy will subjected,
A kingdom and a king. Upon the stage
Of this vain world, who knows what part may next
Themistocles be thine: too well I see
That human life, at best, is but a tale;
And mine as yet unfinish'd.

SCENE II.

Enter Neocles.
Neoc.
Once again
Father belov'd, on innocence and virtue
The stars propitious shine: from every danger
We now are freed. When Athens shall receive
These wondrous tidings, how will terror shake
Her citizens ungrateful! Now begins
Our fortune's happy course: I see it all.
And now, with thee, I seem to reap my part
Of wealth and honours, share with thee the praise
Of palms and triumphs; pass Alcides' bounds,
And conquer kings and give to kingdoms laws.

Them.
Hold, Neocles; and trust not yet too far
Our present state. Thy ardour now exceeds,
As late thy fear? When adverse winds prevail'd,
Thou trembledst near the port; and now they shew
A moment's favouring change, at once, my son,
Thou open'st all thy canvas to the breeze,
Ill tim'd in both. Thy confidence of soul
Is now a fault, but then had been a virtue:
And that distrust, which once so far depress'd thee,
Was then a fault, but would be virtue now.

Neoc.
And what have we to fear?

Them.
In what to trust?
These treasures? These a moment has bestow'd,
A moment may resume them. In the friends
Thou saw'st me late acquire? These are not mine,
They come with Fortune, and with her depart.

Neoc.
But royal Xerxes' favour will suffice
To make our state secure.

Them.
And Xerxes' anger,
Suffice to be our ruin.

Neoc.
No: the king
Is far too wise and just.

Them.
A king so great,
Beholds not all himself, too oft deceiv'd
When wicked men besiege the royal ear;
And wicked men abound in every clime.

Neoc.
Thy virtue still must make thee rise above
The calumny of courts.

Them.
O! no, where each
Attempts o'er all to make his merits shine,
The virtue, most admir'd, is least secure.

Neoc.
What then remains?—

Them.
Depart—The king approaches.

Neoc.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Enter Xerxes.
Xer.
Themistocles.

Them.
Great king.

Xer.
I still am bound
To thee in grateful ties, and owe thee much.
I promis'd recompense to him who brought
Themistocles to Persia. I have now
My utmost wish, and with impatience come
To make my promise good.

Them.
So many gifts
Already lavish'd—shall not these suffice?

Xer.
No, every recompense too little seems
For such a friend obtain'd, as swells my heart
With generous pride.

Them.
And means—

Xer.
I mean to amend
The injuries of Fortune, and to raise thee
In her despite. Miuntes, Lampsacus,
The city, wash'd by fair Meander's stream,
Are from this instant thine: hereafter Xerxes
Will give more shining proofs to mark the love,
With which he justly honours thy deserts.

Them.
O! sir, be moderate; use not thus your triumph,
Nor call my blushes forth: what have I done
That thus from you may claim—

Xer.
What hast thou done?
And dost thou think it little to confide
In Xerxes' generous faith? To intrust with him
A life like thine? To open him a field,
Will make his name immortal? To restore
To Persia's kingdom in Themistocles,
In him alone, whate'er before was lost.

Them.
Reflect, from me, what ruin, blood—

Xer.
The glory
To honour thus the virtue of my foe,
Compensates all: the first was Fortune's work,
And Fortune's blame—this glory is my own.

Them.
O! generous sentiments! that well befit
The substitute of Jove. Oh! happy land,
To such a king subjected.

Xer.
Hear me further.
I mean to follow now the grateful contest
Of mutual friendship. To my power thy life
Thou hast intrusted; to thy valour I
Intrust my power. Thou shalt be sovereign leader
Of Persia's armies: come, and take before
The assembled troops, the ensign of command,
Thou first shalt hence to punish the presumption
Of restless Egypt. Greater deeds we then
May hope to achieve: with thee, Themistocles,
I trust to triumph o'er the world in arms.

Them.
And will my generous king so far—

Xer.
Away,
Prepare for other triumphs. Let thy deeds
Speak what thou mean'st to say.

Them.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

Xerxes
alone.
'Tis ever true: a regal diadem
Is heavy to support, and with it brings
A thousand troubles; but the power it gives
To recompense the good, set virtue free
From the blind empire of capricious Chance;
To make the worthy happy; is a privilege
Atones for all, and opens to the soul
The purest joys of frail humanity;
And (if a mortal boast may thus presume)
Can make a monarch equal to a God.
Such have I prov'd it, since the day in which
I gain'd Themistocles? It now imports me
To make this gain secure. I mean to raise
Aspasia to the throne: her birth, her virtue,
Her beauty well deserve it. In my empire
Themistocles will then assert the rights
Of all his future offspring, whilst the ties
Of blood shall make our mutual love increase.
Yet would I first consult Aspasia's heart:
Already, at my will, Sebastes goes
To sound her secret purpose. But as yet,
I see him not return—perchance he's here,
O! Heavens!—It is Roxana!—let me now
Avoid her presence,

[going.

SCENE V.

Enter Roxana.
Rox.
Whither goes my lord?
Do you then fly me!

Xer.
No! but other cares
Of high concernment call me now away.

Rox.
And yet amongst those cares Roxana once
Has borne a part.

Xer.
But now they claim me wholly.

Rox.
'Tis true, and well I understand thee, Xerxes.
I see how far Themistocles must now
Employ thy thoughts; and just it seems, a guest
So noble should engross the heart of Xerxes.
Thy mind (nor strange I deem it) is perplex'd
Between the father's merits and—

Xer.
No more—
Princess, farewell.

[going.
Rox.
Yet, hear me, cruel man!

Xer.
[aside]
She must be undeceiv'd, [to her]
—attend Roxana;
'Tis time I should to thee disclose my thoughts.
Know then—

SCENE VI.

Enter Sebastes.
Seb.
My lord, the Ambassador from Greece
Once more demands an audience.

Xer.
Wherefore, say?
Then is he not departed?

Seb.
No, he learns
That here Themistocles resides in Susa,
And means to make large offers to obtain him.

Xer.
O! 'tis too much; he trifles with my patience:
I will not hear him—charge him to depart,
Nor dare to disobey me.

[Seb. going.
Rox.
[aside.]
This resentment,
Alas! proceeds from love.

Xer.
Yet hear, Sebastes;
I've better thought—Go, bring him to our presence,
I'll punish his presumption.

[Exit Seb.
Rox.
Speak at length
Your secret purpose.

Xer.
'Tis no longer time.

[going.
Rox.
You promise, Xerxes, first to tell me all,
Then, cruel man! you answer not, but leave me.

Xer.
Alas! when speechless I depart,
Could'st thou, Roxana, read my heart,
My thoughts would then unfolded lie.
For oft we seem but to conceal
Those truths which looks too well reveal,
When silence only makes reply.

[Exit.
Rox.
In vain, alas! I would deceive myself.
Aspasia triumphs—but behold she comes,
The haughty fair-one.

SCENE VII.

Enter Aspasia.
[Rox.]
[looking at Asp. with attention.]
Where's the mighty charm
That thus in her my Xerxes so adores?

Asp.
At length, Roxana, all your doubts are ended.

Rox.
[aside, looking at her.]
I cannot find a cause for chains so binding.

Asp.
What dost thou?—Wherefore gaze in silence on me?

Rox.
I seek the wonders of that face,
Those powerful eyes, and every grace,
That risk a king's repose.
A lover whom such charms assail,
Must find excuse if e'er he fail
In faith of former vows.

[Exit.
Asp.
What harsh reproaches! Tyrant Jealousy,
How dost thou torture hearts! I too, O Heaven!
Have prov'd no less for my Lysimachus.

SCENE VIII.

Enter Lysimachus.
Lys.
[entering.]
O! let me for a moment but behold her,
And then— [seeing her.]
But sure I dream!—It is my love!

Asp.
[to herself, not seeing him.]
He surely knows I live; for public fame
Must widely spread the chance—Alas! he glows
With other flames than mine—ungrateful man!
And yet I cannot shake him from my thoughts;
But hence—it shall be so—these ties dissolv'd—

[going.
Lys.
Hear me, my life!

Asp.
[turning.]
Who calls me thus his life?
[seeing him.]
O Heavens!

Lys.
Thy own, thy true Lysimachus;
Yes, fair Aspasia, once again my fate
Has brought me to my lov'd-one's sight.

Asp.
Aspasia?
I am no longer she—Aspasia's dead.

Lys.
So fame, I know, declar'd; but well I know
The tale was false; I know how Heaven preserv'd thee.

Asp.
Then add to this, what yet thou hast not learn'd,
And further know—for thee I live no more.

Lys.
Ah! wherefore thus transfix my bleeding heart?

Asp.
So true a lover and so firm a friend
Must merit sure from me a tender greeting.
And hast thou dar'd, ingrate! my father's foe,
To meet Aspasia now and speak of love?

Lys.
Thy father's foe? Alas! thou little know'st
The conflict that I feel.—A sacred duty
Compels me to obey my country's mandates;
While every moment, in my tortur'd breast,
The lover with the citizen contends.

Asp.
Thou must relinquish one.

Lys.
Ah! one I cannot,
And one I ought not.—Every hour I strive,
With agonizing pangs, against my peace,
And seek to gain what, gain'd, must make me wretched.

Asp.
The Heavens be prais'd! thou yet hast nothing gain'd.

Lys.
Alas! Aspasia, I have gain'd too much.
Forgive me, O! ye guardian Gods of Athens!
If to her griefs I pay this tender sigh.

Asp.
I tremble—speak—say, what hast thou obtain'd?

Lys.
The king gives up Themistocles to Greece.

Asp.
Wretched Aspasia!

Lys.
Even this very hour
He plights his word to send him hence.

Asp.
O Heavens!
[aside.]
Ah! Xerxes thus will punish my refusal.
[to Lys.]
Lysimachus, have pity! Thou alone
Canst save my father.

Lys.
O! what power is mine?
Perhaps already may the king expect me,
Where now the people and the troops are met.
Before them all he means to render up
The victim to my hands.—O! think what power
Can rest with me.

Asp.
All, if thou wilt, is thine:
Consent that by a secret flight—

Lys.
Aspasia,
What would'st thou ask?

Asp.
I from a lover ask
A certain proof of love: thou canst not sure
Reject my prayer.

Lys.
Alas! before I lov'd
My duty was prescrib'd by other laws,
A citizen of Athens.

Asp.
Does the name
Of citizen compel thee to pursue
A guiltless exile?

Lys.
O! I seek it not:
I but fulfil my duty.

Asp.
Be it so:
We have our several duties—this is mine.
Farewell for ever!

[going.
Lys.
Whither, whither goest thou?

Asp.
I go to Xerxes' arms.

Lys.
What says Aspasia?

Asp.
Yes, Xerxes loves me, and to assist a father
All nature pleads within me.—Ere I lov'd
My duty was prescrib'd by other laws,
The daughter of Themistocles.

Lys.
Yet hear me.
Give not the world, Aspasia, this example
Of broken faith.

Asp.
I follow where thou lead'st,
And but fulfil my duty.

Lys.
Does the struggle
So little cost thee?

Asp.
Little cost? Then learn
To thy confusion, 'tis to punish me
That Xerxes gives my father: but even now
He sent to offer me his hand and throne;
And she, to whom it little costs to leave thee,
Has, for thy sake, refus'd the Persian throne.

Lys.
What say'st thou, O! my love?

Asp.
Nor is this all.
Hear, cruel man! thou know'st I've many a cause,
And yet I cannot hate thee: now reduc'd
To this extreme, to part from thee for ever,
I feel my heart divided from my breast.
I should conceal my weakness—but in vain,
In vain I strive—Behold, ungrateful man!
In spite of all, my tears will find a way.

Lys.
Ah! weep not thus—I yield—What have I said?
Farewell, my life, farewell!

Asp.
And whither goest thou?

Lys.
I fly from trials which my virtue fears.

Asp.
If any spark of pity yet remain—

Lys.

[Exit.

SCENE IX.

Aspasia
alone.

[Exit.

SCENE X.

A magnificent pavilion, open on all sides; a throne on the right hand adorned with military ensigns. View of a vast plain, with the Persian army drawn up.
Xerxes, Sebastes. A train of Satraps, Guards and People.
Xer.
Sebastes, is it true? Does then Aspasia
Reject my profferr'd nuptials?

Seb.
Every beauty
Is coy when first we woo: perhaps in secret
Aspasia may have felt an equal passion,
But blushes to confess; and only waits
A father's sanction to declare her love.

Xer.
That sanction soon—

Seb.
Behold the illustrious exile;
And with him comes the ambassador of Athens.

Xer.
Sebastes, see that now to me be brought
The ensign of command.

[Xerxes ascends the throne, Seb. stands next him, and one of the Satraps brings the staff of military command, with which he stands near the throne.

SCENE XI.

Enter Themistocles with Lysimachus.—Lysimachus, as he advances, speaks to Themistocles, not heard by Xerxes.
Lys.
Alas! my friend,
To what a cruel task has Heaven assign'd me!
How must I blush—

Them.
And wherefore should'st thou blush?
Themistocles can judge between the friend,
And citizen of Athens: well he knows
Our country is the Deity, to which
Must all be sacrific'd.—Were I as you,
Themistocles had been Lysimachus.

Xer.
Draw near. Themistocles: See here assembled
The bravest, chosen troops of Persia's host:
To these selected warriors only wants
A general worthy them: that charge be thine.
Take this, and with this ensign I elect thee
Their chief and leader.—In my stead, dispense
Rewards and punishments.—Go, fight and conquer:
To thee I trust my fame and Persia's fate.

Lys.
[aside.]
The king has then deceiv'd me, or Aspasia
Has found the means to appease him.

Them.
[receiving the staff.]
Mighty king!
Confiding in your goodness I accept
The weight of this high charge, and here I swear
Eternal faith.—The Gods decree that Fortune
For thee may ever combat on my side!
Or should the stars forebode disastrous chance,
Themistocles be doom'd, and he alone,
To meet their anger: let the squadrons conquer,
And let him perish!—So may Xerxes see,
Return'd with laurel, not with cypress wreaths,
Amidst his conquering bands their leader slain.

Lys.
Is this the way, O! Xerxes, that to Athens
You give Themistocles?

Xer.
I only swore
To send him back to Greece.—Then hear if now
I shall fulfil my promise— [to Them.]
Valiant chief!
At length I mean to punish this presumption.
Another may conduct our arms in Egypt:
Be thou my scourge in Greece.—Go, burn, destroy,
Spread desolation; heap our galling chains
On Sparta, Corinth, Argos, Thebes and Athens.

Them.
[aside.]
Now am I lost!

Lys.
And was I call'd—

Xer.
Go, bear
These glorious tidings to thy countrymen;
Say how their exile will revisit Greece,
And what companions on his steps attend.

Lys.
[aside.]
O! my unhappy country! false Aspasia!

[Exit with Greeks.

SCENE XII.

Xerxes, Themistocles, Sebastes.
Them.
[aside.]
Themistocles a traitor!

Xer.
What employs
Our general's thoughts?

Them.
Ah! change, my king, your purpose;
For many nations yet are unsubdued.

Xer.
If first I trample not on hostile Greece,
The conquer'd world can give me little pride.

Them.
Reflect again—

Xer.
Already 'tis determin'd;
And he who dares oppose this enterprise
Encounters my resentment.

Them.
Then elect
Some other leader.

Xer.
Wherefore?

Them.
At the feet
Of Xerxes I lay down this honour'd ensign
Of Persia's high command.

[lays down the staff at the foot of the throne.
Xer.
What can this mean?

Them.
And would'st thou have Themistocles a rebel
To o'erturn his native walls?—Misfortune never
Can change me thus.

Seb.
[aside.]
What unexampled daring!

Xer.
Not Athens now, this palace is thy country:
The first proscribes thee and pursues thy life,
The last receives, defends and gives thee being.

Them.
Whoe'er defends me, I was born at Athens,
And 'tis by nature's instinct that we cherish
Our dear paternal seats.—In forest glooms
The savage beasts will love their native caves.

Xer.
[aside.]
I burn with rage— [to him.]
Then Athens still remains
The mistress of thy heart? But what in her
Can still Themistocles so highly prize?

Them.
All, sovereign lord! the ashes of our fathers,
The sacred laws, the tutelary Gods,
The language, manners, my repeated toils
For her endur'd; the honours heap'd upon me;
The very air, the trees, the soil and walls.

Xer.
Ingrate! and dost thou thus before my face
[descends from his throne.
Thus proudly boast a love so hateful to me?

Them.
I still am—Xerxes—

Xer.
Thou art still my foe:
In vain, with benefits conferr'd, I strove—

Them.
These in my heart for ever fix'd remain
In characters indelible.—Let Xerxes
Point out his other foes: for him my blood
Shall freely flow; but if he still would hope
To employ my courage for my country's ruin,
With rebel arms, then Xerxes is deceiv'd:
For her I've ever liv'd, for her will die.

Xer.
No more—reflect—resolve—thou canst not live
The guard of Athens and the friend of Xerxes.
—Choose as thou wilt.

Them.
Thou know'st my choice.

Xer.
Remember:
This moment seals thy fate.

Them.
Too well I know it.

Xer.
Thou anger'st him whose power can make thee wretched.

Them.
But not a rebel.

Xer.
'Tis to me, thy life
By me preserv'd, is due.

Them.
But not my honour.

Xer.
Greece hates Themistocles.

Them.
But Greece I love.

Xer.
[aside.]
Ye Gods! what insolence!— [to him.]
Is Xerxes thus
By thee rewarded?

Them.
I was born at Athens.

Xer.
[aside.]
I can no longer hold—Guards! from our presence
Remove the ingrate for future punishment:
We yet may see that dauntless courage tremble.

Them.

[Exit guarded.

SCENE XIII.

Enter Roxana.
Rox.
I scarcely, Xerxes, can believe—

Xer.
Ah! princess,
Whoe'er could have believ'd it? In my palace,
Before the world Themistocles insults me.
He worships Athens still; he boasts for her
His faith unshaken; for her sake, with scorn
Foregoes the friendship and the gifts of Xerxes.

Rox.
[aside.]
My hopes revive— [to Xer.]
Who knows? Perhaps the daughter
May change his will.

Xer.
The daughter and the father
Alike to me are foes.—Yes, every Greek,
By natural instinct, bears to Xerxes hatred:
I will on both have vengeance.

Rox.
[aside.]
Happy change!
[to Xer.]
All have not, sir, the heart of your Roxana.

Xer.
I know it well, and blush at what is past.

Rox.
And yet I fear that if again Aspasia
Should now return—

Xer.
Aspasia? O! she dares not
So far presume.

SCENE XIV.

Enter Aspasia.
Asp.
Have pity, gracious lord!

Rox.
[to Xer.]
See if she dares so far—but listen not
To her seducing words.

Xer.
Yes, let us hear
What she would urge.

Asp.
O! Xerxes, save my father;
Give him an offering to your noble nature,
And give him to my tears.

Xer.
[aside.]
Enchanting sorrow!

Rox.
[aside.]
I fear the trial now.

Xer.
And art thou come
To implore my pardon? Thou, who seem'st o'er all,
To scorn my bounty.

Asp.
No! you are deceiv'd.
Shame prompted my refusal. Should you now
Restore my father, modesty would find
A specious veil to hide a maiden's blushes,—
My heart might then be yours.

Rox.
[aside.]
O! patience, Heaven!

Xer.
And shall I then forgive the ingrate, who loves
My deadliest foe?

Asp.
O! no!—'tis less I ask!
Suspend your anger—I perhaps may bend
His will to yours.—Can you deny me this?
Oh! I was born unhappy! Ne'er till now
The wretched went from Xerxes unreliev'd:
I am the first to prove his cruelty—
Alas! it cannot be,—I'll ne'er believe it,
You do but feign a rigour not your own,
And, while you pity, only seem severe.
O! mighty king! indulge your generous heart,
Yield to its feelings, to Aspasia's hopes,
Or see her with Themistocles expire.

Xer.
Aspasia, rise— [aside.]
What power enchants me thus!

Rox.
[aside.]
Again am I deluded.

Xer.

[Exit.

SCENE XV.

Enter Roxana, Aspasia, Sebastes.
Rox.
[aside.]
I feel my spirits sink.

Asp.
Forgive, Roxana,
The duty that compels—

Rox.
Go, haughty maid,
Avoid Roxana's presence. Thou hast conquer'd:
I see, I own it all—I yield him to thee.
What would'st thou further? Seek'st thou greater triumph?
This insult is too much!—I'll bear no more.

Asp.

[Exit.

SCENE XVI.

Roxana, Sebastes.
Seb.
[aside.]
This anger may avail me.

Rox.
Oh! Sebastes,
Could I revenge myself for Xerxes' falsehood—

Seb.
The means are ready. If my faithful friends
But join with yours, your vengeance is secur'd,
And Persia's sceptre is at our disposal.

Rox.
What friends hast thou to offer me.

Seb.
The bands
Of numerous malecontents, in Egypt rais'd,
On me depend: Orontes is their leader,
By me elected, and at my command:
Peruse this paper late from him receiv'd.

[gives a paper.
Rox.
Go, friend; await me now in my apartment,
I'll join thee soon. 'Twere dangerous here with thee
To hold such converse.

Seb.
May I then presume
To hope—

Rox.
Away.—Fear not, I will be grateful:
I owe thee much and well I know thou lov'st me.

Seb.
[aside.]
At length my hopes have found a happy hour.

[Exit.

SCENE XVII.

Roxana
, alone.

[Exit.