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SCENE VII.
Enter Dirce, in white vestments, crowned with flowers, Priests and Guards.Timan.
O stay! my Dirce! speak,
What can this mean?
Dir.
At length my hour is come;
These eyes must never, never see thee more!
O prince! how cruel is this separation!
Timan.
And does my father—
Dir.
'Tis his will that I
This instant suffer.
Timan.
Never whilst I live—
[going to draw.
Dir.
What would'st thou do, my lord! against such numbers
Thou seek'st in vain to save me, but must rush
Thyself on certain ruin.
Timan.
True, my love,
I'll seek some better way.
[going.
Dir.
But whither go'st thou?
120
To draw together all the friends I have;
Go thou in peace; I'll reach the fane before thee.
Dir.
Yet think—O Heaven!—
Timan.
There is no room for thought:
My pity's turn'd to fury: tremble all
That dare oppose me: should my father's self—
My frenzy knows no bounds—let sword and flames
Destroy the palace, temple, priests and Gods!
[Exit.
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