University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Enter Ammon to Hesione, as following her.
Ammon.
O, fly not thus in Scorn, thou woundrous Maid!
O, turn!—O, answer me!

Hesione.
No more! away!
And leave me to my Sorrow!

Ammon.
No! I'll on!
And thou shalt hear me! Now's the time to show
Your Piety to Heav'n, and to your Sire;
Virtues for which, of all th' Athenian Daughters,
Hesione has ever most been fam'd.

Hesione.
Oh, Ammon, Ammon! thou hast torn asunder
The truest Pair that ever met in Love!

Ammon.
Blame the just Gods! tell the all-equal Pow'rs
That they have wrong'd thee!

Hesione.
Thou'rt the Injurer!
There's Treachery! Treachery! 'Tis manifest
To all, but him who shou'd discern it most.
My Father is abus'd! His gen'rous Breast
Glows with a thousand great, and glorious Virtues:
Thou know'st it well; for some of them have warm'd thee!
Yet, thro' the single Error of his Soul,
His only Weakness, thou hast found a way
To ruin him and all his Hopes for ever!

Ammon.
I love him, and he knows it: question him;
And he will tell thee, I was won with Art,
To accept the Blessing Heav'n, and he design me.

Hesione.
That he is won by Art is now too plain!
Think on Omphales too! thy injur'd Friend!
Oh, he wou'd talk of thee, and of thy Truth,
Till even I grew Jealous of thy Pow'r,
And fear'd thy growing Empire in his Heart!
How often have I heard your Vows exchang'd,
When thou hast sworn, the Sun it self shou'd fade,
And Nature cease, whenever thou wert false?—
Cease Nature then! and fade ye conscious Beams!
For thou art false! Omphales is betray'd!

Ammon.
If e'er Omphales wore me at his Heart,
My Friendship taught him first to place me there:
And, as an instance of uncommon Faith,
Know, in my dear Regard to this Omphales,
[This no way injur'd; but unhappy Man]
I've labour'd long to hide my mighty Love;
With Pain conceal'd it: even as a Child,
Who fears the chiding of an angry Voice,
I've held my Passion in!

Hesione.
No more of Love!
It loses on thy Tongue.

Ammon.
By Heav'ns, I love!
And thou shall prove it!

[Offering to embrace her, she rejects him.]
Hesione.
Hence! Shall I receive
A foul, and grisly Satyr to that Heart,
Which one, resembling Heav'n, has earn'd with Truth,
Unwearied Patience, and an Age of Love?

Ammon.
O, let me sooth thee to thy Happiness!
I wou'd endeavour to deserve thy Smiles.
We'll live up to the height of fond Delight:
And every Joy that Art, or Nature yields,
Shall wait to catch the Moment of our Wishes.
Sorrow remote shall stand, and gloomy Care
Be known but by its Name. The Persian Queen
Far off shall hear thy State, and envy thee.

Hesione.
Think not to lure me with thy sensual Baits!
Tempt base, and abject Minds!—Thou hast affirm'd
That thou dost love: What canst thou then for Love?
Canst thou endure an Age of fruitless Pain,
And yet another, and still greatly Love?
Tho' Exile, Want, Oppression stood before thee,
Woud'st thou not faint; but still pursue thy Hope?
Say, canst thou this for Love? and can'st thou too,
When Hope is lost, in th' Hour of black Despair,
Give up the World, and for thy Love expire?

Ammon.
I'm none of Plato's Lovers: but a Man!
Who court substantial Joy!—I tell thee, Fair!—

Hesione.
No more: but leave me: I wou'd be retir'd.

Ammon.
Behold! thy Father hastes to joyn our Hands.

Hesione.
I wou'd not meet him thus! It wounds my Heart
To vex his gen'rous Nature. I'll withdraw,
A Moment only, to compose my Thoughts:
Then all resign'd to the dread Will of Fate,
He'll find me at the Altar.

Ammon.
This is kind!
You now appear, indeed, like Zimon's Daughter.

Exit Hesione.