 | Eurydice |  |
SCENE III.
Eurydice, Procles, Medon, &c.Medon.
Undone! undone! The postern-gate is seiz'd.
That curst Leonidas—
Procles.
Ha! say'st thou, Medon?
Medon.
By hell, our foes surround us on each hand.
We're taken in the toil.
Procles.
Unequal Powers!
And have you then deceiv'd me? rais'd me high
With traiterous kindness, but to plunge me deeper
In howling desperation? Does the man,
Whom late my foot could spurn, behold my fall?
And fall I thus? my great ambition dash'd?
My love unsatisfy'd? Shall he yet revel
In her fond arms, and hear her curse my name?
No. Spite of heaven my ruine shall be glorious,
A pomp of horrors. I will make this day
For ever mournful to his aking heart.
Yes, he shall weep in blood amid the shouts
Of victory. One blow destroys his triumph,
And levels him at once to my destruction.
[he draws a dagger.
58
Strike, Tyrant, and compleat thy monstrous crimes.
See, thou pale coward, see a woman braves
Thy guilty dagger.
Procles.
Ha! what's this I feel?
A shivering dew of horror sweats all o'er me!
Some Power invisible arrests my arm!
It is heaven's secret hand—But shall I lose
This only moment? No: be strong my heart;
Be shut against all human thoughts, and scorn
These warnings of thy hostile Gods—'Tis done.
| Eurydice | |