 | The Olympiad |  |
SCENE XVII.
Lycidasalone.
Presumptuous man!
[draws.
This sword shall through thy breast—What have I said?
Whom would my rage chastise? 'Tis I am guilty:
I am the offender—Let me rather plunge
My weapon here—Die, wretched Lycidas!
Ha! wherefore dost thou tremble, coward hand,
What is't withholds thee?—This indeed is misery:
I hate my life, and yet my death affrights me.
My heart is torn in pieces! Rage, revenge,
Repentance, friendship, tenderness, compassion,
Love, shame, all, all distract me: never breast
Was rent before with such contending passions!
What can this mean? I tremble 'midst my threats!
I burn and freeze; I weep even while I rave;
I wish for death, yet know not how to die.
[draws.
This sword shall through thy breast—What have I said?
Whom would my rage chastise? 'Tis I am guilty:
I am the offender—Let me rather plunge
My weapon here—Die, wretched Lycidas!
Ha! wherefore dost thou tremble, coward hand,
What is't withholds thee?—This indeed is misery:
I hate my life, and yet my death affrights me.
My heart is torn in pieces! Rage, revenge,
Repentance, friendship, tenderness, compassion,
Love, shame, all, all distract me: never breast
Was rent before with such contending passions!
What can this mean? I tremble 'midst my threats!
I burn and freeze; I weep even while I rave;
I wish for death, yet know not how to die.
134
Methinks the shades of night arise,
And blot the lustre of the skies!
Around what horrid forms appear!
I feel a thousand furies here!
And blot the lustre of the skies!
Around what horrid forms appear!
I feel a thousand furies here!
Meægras' sanguine torch inspires
My bosom with terrific fires!
Alecto all her venom drains,
And sheds the poison through my veins.
My bosom with terrific fires!
Alecto all her venom drains,
And sheds the poison through my veins.
[Exit.
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