 | The Distrest Mother |  |
SCENE I.
Andromache, Cephisa.Ceph.
Blest be the Tomb of Hector, that inspires
These Thoughts: Or is it Hector's self,
That prompts you to preserve your Son? 'Tis he,
Who still presides o'er ruin'd Troy; 'tis he,
Who urges Pyrrhus to restore Astyanax.
Andr.
Pyrrhus has said he will: And thou hast heard him
Just now renew the oft-repeated Promise.
Ceph.
Already in the Transports of his Heart,
He gives you up his Kingdom, his Allies,
And thinks himself-o'er paid for all in you.
Andr.
I think I may rely upon his Promise:
And yet my Heart is overcharged with Grief.
Ceph.
Why should you grieve? You see he bids Defiance
To all the Greeks: And to protect your Son
Against their Rage, has placed his Guards about him;
Leaving himself defenceless for his sake:
But Madam, think the Coronation Pomps
Will soon demand your Presence in the Temple:
'Tis Time you lay aside these Mourning Weeds.
Andr.
I will be there; but first would see my Son.
Ceph.
Madam, you need not now be anxious for him:
He will be always with you, all your own,
To lavish the whole Mother's Fondness on him.
What a Delight to train beneath your Eye
A Son, who grows no longer up in Bondage;
A Son in whom a Race of Kings revives?
But Madam, you are sad, and wrapt in Thought,
As if you relish'd not your Happiness.
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Oh I must see my Son once more, Cephisa.
Ceph.
Madam, he now will be no more a Captive;
Your Visits may be frequent as you please.
To morrow you may pass the live long day.—
Andr.
To morrow! Oh Cephisa!—But no more!
Cephisa, I have always found thee faithful:
A Load of Care weighs down my drooping Heart.
Ceph.
Oh! that 'twere possible for me to ease you.
Andr.
I soon shall exercise thy long-try'd Faith!—
Mean while I do conjure thee, my Cephisa,
Thou take no Notice of my present Trouble;
And, when I shall disclose my secret Purpose,
That thou be punctual to perform my Will.
Ceph.
Madam, I have no Will but yours. My Life
Is nothing, ballanced with my Love to you.
Andr.
I thank thee, good Cephisa: my Astyanax
Will recompense thy Friendship to his Mother.
But, come: my Heart's at Ease: Assist me now
To change this sable Habit.—Yonder comes
Hermione: I would not meet her Rage.
| The Distrest Mother | |