Merope | ||
SCENE III.
EUMEMES, NARBAS, EURICLES.EUMENES.
Where did this ill-instructed Tyrant learn
To threaten, for Persuasion!—I suspect,
He does not seem to doubt, but doubts indeed,
I share no Blood of Hercules.—He's gone:
And call'd me, to his Altar.—Let us follow.
NARBAS.
Stay.—Whither wou'd such fatal Rashness lead you?
EURICLES.
The Queen has Friends: howe'er too weak, too few:
Who dare defend her Cause. Give us but Time
To weigh, and to resolve, and these shall aid you.
EUMENES.
No.—In an Hour so black, so dire, as This,
I task but my own Heart, and Heaven, to aid me.
57
What God forsakes the Friendless.
[Going out, meets Merope.
Merope | ||