 | Achilles In Scyros |  |
SCENE III.
Enter Deidamia.Deid.
Ah! whither, whither goest thou, O! Achilles?
Yet stay and hear me.
[Achilles turns and sees Deidamia: both remain some time silent.
Ulys.
[aside.]
Now indeed I fear.
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[aside.]
Behold where love and glory both contend.
Deid.
Inhuman man! and is it possible?
Could'st thou then leave me?
Ulys.
[aside to Ach.]
If thou mak'st reply
Thou art vanquish'd.
Ach.
[to Ulys.]
Fear me not; whate'er my feelings,
I'll struggle to suppress them.
Deid.
Such reward,
O cruel! dost thou yield for love like mine?
Could such a form conceal a treacherous heart?
Learn hence, too easy maidens, learn from him
To trust a lover's faith: even now he swore
Eternal constancy, and in a moment
Forgets it all—departs, forsakes me thus,
Without one tender sigh, one last adieu.
Ach.
[aside.]
My breaking heart!
Arc.
[aside.]
He melts.
Deid.
What cause could make thee
At once my foe? Alas! what have I done?
What crime of mine can merit thus thy hatred?
Ach.
No, princess, no—
Ulys.
Achilles—
Ach.
[to Ulys.]
But one word:
I ask no more.
63
[aside.]
Then all is lost.
Ach.
[to Deid.]
No, princess,
Believe me not a traitor or thy foe:
Eternal truth I've sworn and I will keep it.
The rigid laws of honour tear me from thee;
But I'll return more worthy of thy love.
If silent I depart, think not my silence
Was scorn or hatred: O! 'twas fear and pity.
Pity for thee, a prey to tender sorrow,
And fear that constancy in me would prove
Unequal to the task: the first, alas!
I well foresaw, the last I dar'd not trust.
I know thou lov'st me dearer than thy life,
And well I know—
Ulys.
Achilles.
Ach.
See me here
Prepar'd to quit the port.
Arc.
[aside.]
And yet he comes not.
Ach.
[to Deid.]
Still in my breast—
Deid.
No more—'tis now too late—
Forgive my transports to excess of love.
'Tis true, Achilles owes himself to Greece,
To all the world, and to his own renown.
Then go—no longer I oppose thy purpose:
My heart's affection shall attend thee still;
But since I here without thee must remain,
O! be the stroke less dreadful—leave me not
Thus unprepar'd: allow my feeble virtue
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I ask no more—go then, depart in peace.
Such grace is not denied a wretch condemn'd
To meet his death; and can I doubt Achilles
Will now refuse this grant to Deidamia?
Arc.
[aside.]
If she obtain a day she conquers all.
Deid.
Ah! think—Ah! speak—thy downcast eyes are fix'd
In pensive silence still.
Ach.
[to Ulys.]
What says Ulysses?
Ulys.
'Tis at thy choice, Achilles, to depart,
Or here abide: to me is not permitted
A longer tarriance here: resolve to quit
The port, or leave me to embark alone.
Ach.
[aside.]
O! cruel state!
Deid.
Yet answer me, Achilles.
Ach.
Fain would I stay in pity to thy grief,
But heard'st thou not Ulysses?
[points to Ulys.
Ulys.
Well—resolve.
Ach.
[to Ulys.]
I would pursue thy steps, but seest thou not
Who pleads against thee?
[points to Deid.
Deid.
'Tis enough—I see
Thy choice is made and thou prepar'st to leave me.
Go then, ungrateful man! farewell for ever.
[going.
Ach.
Stay, Deidamia.
[follows her.
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I perceive, Achilles,
Thy purpose to remain. Irresolute,
Degenerate youth! I leave thee and depart.
[going.
Ach.
Ulysses, stay.
Deid.
[to Ach.]
What would'st thou?
Ulys.
Whither tends
Thy purpose now?
Ach.
I would, my Deidamia,
Indulge thy wish— [aside.]
O Heaven! what means this weakness.
[to Ulys.]
To thee, Ulysses, would I yield my guidance—
[aside.]
But this were surely cruel—If my glory
Exact obedience here, there love denies it.
Arc.
[aside.]
'Tis doubtful which will conquer.
Deid.
Since to grant me
So light a boon excites such painful struggles,
I press no further—yet one grace I ask
More worthy thee: depart, but ere thou goest,
Deep in my bosom plunge thy glorious sword,
This will avail us both: for thou, Achilles,
Wilt thus begin to inure thy soul to slaughter,
And Deidamia shun a lingering death:
So may'st thou gladly go, and go unquestion'd.
I die content, if he, whom still my heart
Must ever love, dear master of my fate,
If he, alas! who has refus'd me life,
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[weeps.
Arc.
[aside.]
Were I Achilles I could hold no longer.
Deid.
Thy last best gift—
Ach.
Ah! cease—lament no more:
Ulysses, longer to reject her suit
Were useless cruelty.
Ulys.
So thinks Achilles.
Ach.
She asks but for a day; a single day
May surely be indulg'd me.
Ulys.
Not a day.
I go to tell the assembled Argive chiefs
The glories of Achilles; yes, from me
Each ear may learn what generous toils have cleans'd
His fame; what great amends his sword has made
For all his sloth at Scyros, and by him
What numerous trophies fill the mouth of fame.
Ach.
But valour loses not—
Ulys.
Talk not of valour.
Strip off those arms, a useless load for Pyrrha.
What ho! bring forth the hero's silken robes,
And let him rest awhile: his fainting brows
Enough have felt the helmet's massy weight.
Arc.
[aside.]
How well Ulysses proves his every art
To rouse the latent hero.
Ach.
[to Ulys.]
Am I Pyrrha?
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Ulys.
O! no—thou giv'st
Great proofs of manly mind: thou canst not conquer
One weak, one poor affection.
Ach.
[firmly.]
Better learn
To know Achilles—let us go.
Deid.
Achilles:
And wilt thou leave me?
Ach.
Strong necessity
Compels me.
Deid.
Say'st thou?
Ach.
Longer to remain
Were fatal to my honour—Deidamia,
Farewell!
[goes resolutely to the ship; is about to ascend the deck, then stops. Ulysses and Arcas follow. Deidamia continues some time immoveable.
Arc.
[aside.]
Ulysses' taunts at length have rous'd
His sleeping honour.
Ulys.
[aside.]
Yet we are not secure.
Deid.
Barbarian! traitor! wilt thou then be gone?
Is this a lover's parting?—Tyranny
Beyond example!—Hence thou fly'st from me,
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And pity human sufferings, all will join
To punish thy misdeeds: my injur'd ghost
Shall haunt thy sight and witness my revenge.
Already now my soul enjoys the thought!—
I see the lightnings flash—O! no, forbear,
Vindictive powers!—if one must pay the forfeit,
O! spare that breast belov'd and strike at mine.
If cruel he has chang'd his former self,
Yet Deidamia's heart is still the same:
For him I liv'd, for him I now will die.
[faints.
Ach.
Ah! let me fly—
[to Ulys.
Ulys.
And whither would Achilles?
Ach.
To save my Deidamia.
Ulys.
Then no longer—
Ach.
And canst thou hope that I will leave her thus?
Ulys.
Are these thy proofs of valour?
Ach.
[in anger.]
Thou would'st ask
For proofs of valour, proofs of cruelty.
—Ulysses, give me way.
[breaks from him and runs to Deidamia.
Arc.
[aside.]
Then Love has conquer'd.
Ach.
My life! my princess! hear me—mighty Gods!
She answers not—lift up those lovely eyes,
Behold, behold thy own Achilles here.
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I fear, my Arcas, 'tis not now a time
To hope for victory: we must resign
The palm, and seek the field with other arms.
[Exit with Arcas, unseen by Achilles.
| Achilles In Scyros | |