University of Virginia Library

[[SCENE II.]]

SCENE changes to the Vault of the Temple.
Enter Circe.
Cir.
What inward Torments tear that doting Wretch,
Who still burns on, yet finds her Flame unanswer'd!
O Love! unequal God! at whose dread Shrine
We breathe the Off'rings of our faithful Hearts
With pure Devotion; be not ever deaf,
And unauspicious to thy Suppliant's Pray'rs.
If thou would'st stand a Deity revered
In Circe's Soul, yet bow this stubborn Youth;
And make him feel the Influence of thy Sway.—
Once more I'll prove him.—Why, the Guard remov'd,
And the wide Dome still as the Cave of Sleep?
What mean this Solitude, and careless Watch?
But Solitude and Stillness aid my Purpose.

[Goes in, as to Orestes's Cell.
Enter Thoas.
Thoas.
The Temple-Lamps blaze thro' the vaulted Isles;
Keep back your Tapers, and presume no farther;
But, there, at distance wait our coming forth.—
All's hush, and still:—The Superstitious Train
Of droning Priests, that think the Goddess' Wrath
Is cancell'd by her Statue duly cleans'd,
On the Sea-shore extend their formal Rites,
And are not yet return'd.—Then, to thy Work.
The Cell stands open:—You dread Spirits, that wait
Unseen, yet ready at stern Murther's Call,
Come, and make strong my Arm with righteous Vengeance.
[As he is going in,
Enter Circe.
Death to my Hopes, the Queen!—This covert Visit,
Contriv'd at this dead Hour, needs no expounding.
Licentious Woman!—Does the Captive Greek
Yet listen to the Lure, yet stoop to Love?

Circe.
Dissembling Tyrant! am I thus insulted?
Where is the Captive?

Thoas.
These are new Refinements,
New Arts, to save your Cheek the conscious Blush.
You have not seen him then?

Circe.
Provoking Man!
Who know'st thy mean Suspicions have withdrawn him
Safe from my View, and triumph'st in th'Exploit!

Thoas.
Make me the Messenger of your Commands;
To tell this haughty Slave, a sighing Queen
Waits to be heard;—for now I go to seek him.

Circe.
Ha!—

[Shewing a Dagger.
Thoas.
Start you?—Can Sarmatia's banish'd Queen,
Whose daring Hand was traded young in Blood,
Shrink back with Horror at a night-drawn Dagger?

Circe.
Well may I shrink with Horror, to behold
The Sanctity of Empire thus prophan'd;
To see thee thus, with an unsceptred Hand,
Stalk like the mortal Genius of Revenge,
The stealthy Minister of lurking Death,
And Mischiefs, that abhor the Eye of Day.

Thoas.
Say rather, thou didst start with conscious Dread,
While Mem'ry, faithful to record foul Deeds,
Presented this a Dagger to thy Mind;
Reflecting on thee thine own murth'ring Image;
When, at dead Night, thou didst, thus badly arm'd,
Steal on thy sleeping Lord's unguarded Hour,
And plunge the Weapon in his kingly Breast.

Circe.
Mean, and ill-judging Wretch! It suits thy Tongue
T'adopt the Slanders of licentious Crouds;
And make their envious Calumnies thine own.
Had the Sarmatian been like thee, a base
Unmeritable Man, his Want of Worth
Had made me glory in that Stroke of Justice;
His People's Praise had crown'd the great Atchievement;
Had sanctified the horrid Name of Murther,
And call'd his Death a publick Sacrifice.

Thoas.
Oh, unexampled Outrage! Yet, I thank thee;
I thank thee, that thou tak'st this wondr'ous Pains
To wake me from the Lethargy of Dotage.
I see thee now stript of that Glare of Charms,
In which my too uncautious Love had deck'd thee.
Thy Siren's Face assumes the Gorgon's Fierceness:
And that alluring Voice, which late I thought
Sweet as the Tune of Morn-saluting Lark,
Sounds harsh, and fatal as the Mandrake's Groan.

Circe.
This fierce Intemperance, that strives to wear
The Form of Hate, is but th'ungovern'd Rage
Of a fond Heart o'er-charg'd with jealous Transports:
I know my Pow'r, and triumph in the Knowledge.

Barz.
[within.]
Where is the King?

Attend.
He will not be disturb'd.

Barz.
My Business cries aloud for instant Audience,
And warrants my Approach.

Enter Barzanes, with his Sword drawn.
Thoas.
Presumptious Slave!
Whence this wild Haste, and why thy Weapon drawn?

Barz.
Your Scythians, mighty Sir, drawn by Command
To guard your Shores against the Grecian Vessels,
Astonish'd at Events, all stand aghast,
And motionless as Things devoid of Soul.
Your Presence only can recal their Spirits,
Or All is lost.

Thoas.
Astonisht at Events!
What mean the feeble superstitious Cowards?

Barz.
Too sure, the subtle Priests have given these Fears.
They, and the Priestess, all abett the Foe;
Have borne our Statue, and your Captives, off;
And bought their Welcome to the Grecians' Side.

Circe.
The Captive 'scap'd! O my distracted Soul!
For this has Circe strain'd her magick Arts,
Rack'd ev'ry Spell, and task'd each aiding Pow'r?

Thoas.
The Priestess, said'st thou? Oh, the treach'rous Sex!
What! circumvented by a peevish Girl!
Proclaim it round our Bands, the gallant Chief,
That brings her back, shall taste our richest Favour.

Barz.
The wondr'ing Croud swarm round her on the Beach,
And, aw'd with Rev'rence of her Form and Office,
Drink in her Words, gaze on the Grecian Pair,
Neglectful of their Charge, and dead to Arms.

Circe.
Yet, Thoas, take me Partner in Revenge:
Draw out your Strengths, man ev'ry Ship of Battle,
And Circe shall outdo th'united War.

Thoas.
Perfidious Woman, no: The Gods are angry
That I have given thee Refuge, and begin
To visit me with Plagues for that Presumption.—
I'll trust no longer to thy hellish Arts,
But fall, or prosper, in my single Virtue.

[Exeunt Thoas and Barzanes.
Circe.
Go, and thy own Perverseness work thy Ruin!
But the lov'd Prince,—th'Infernal Gods pronounc'd,
Unless I loos'd his Bonds, should take his Flight.—
But shall it be? Love cannot brook the Thought,
Nor Life support such fatal Disappointment.
Ye Pow'rs, that still have waited on my Charms,
Ere yet he climbs the Bark, make void his Purpose:
Or sink th'Ungrateful in the whelming Wave.
—Why do I pause? Prevention must have Wings:
Earth, Sea, and Air obey my great Command;
And all their Terrors shall assist my Vengeance.
[Exit Circe.