University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

The Rock and Tower of Onesimarchus. Ogré chained at the base.
Ogré.
Shall I not have revenge—shall he not feel,
This wanton wrong that he hath put on me,
In his unmeasured wrath? Must I submit
To wear the chains about my limbs, as now;
Still fearing, that, for every erring deed,
I may not 'scape the villain penalty,
But bend my shrinking back to meet the scourge,
When 't suits a fellow-slave to place it there!
I'll be revenged.—Already have I done
Something towards it; for, throughout the hour,
When that his storms were raging o'er my limbs,
Chafed into madness, the dismember'd rocks
I hurl'd into his secret halls above,
And the repeated crash gave token sure
Of a wild mischief—and I rest not here!
He cannot punish me more than he has done,
And, let the tyrant will it so or not,
I leave his service when my limbs are free.
Ha! What are these? How now! What seek you here?
Enter Leon and Tinina.
What is it that you lack? Speak, ere I strike,
And hurl you into pieces with this rock.

Leon.
Thou monstrous slave, what is it that thou sayst?
Dost threaten too? Stand by, and let me pass,
Or thus, I thrust my weapon to thy heart.

Tinina.
Forbear! Thou wert an infant in his grasp,
And he would crush thee at a single stroke.
Show him thy spell of power—but lift thy ring!
See, now, he trembles: keep it thus in sight,
And we shall pass. No strength is in his arm,—
He cannot hurt us now.

[They ascend and enter the rock.
Ogré.
Terrible power!
How has it fetter'd me, and taken away
Each nerve once strung for action. Lo! they come,
And bearing off my master's instruments.—
Well, let them go! I glad me he hath wrong!
I would that he were fetter'd in my place,
And I were free and had no master then;
How would I revel in all goodly things!—
What lusts would I delight in,—food and drink,
Until my senses swim, and sleep i' the sun,
Doing no service more! Ah! here they come.

Enter Leon and Tinina.
Leon.
Slave, wouldst thou have thy freedom, and escape
The tyranny that tramples in this wise,
Loading thy limbs with chains, while the salt sea,
Enflames the galling tortures of the scourge?

Ogré.
That would I, mighty prince.

Leon.
Thou hast it then.
Throw by the chain thou wear'st and follow me.

Ogré.
I'll fling it in the sea. Shall I do more?
Bid me upheave this rocky battlement,
Wherein he keeps his magic, I'll not pause;—
Do thou but say the word.

Leon.
Nay, heed it not!
If she I serve do thus decree, thou mayst,—
Not else.

Ogré.
How now! you are no monarch then?
Whom serve you?

Leon.
The fair princess, Atalantis.

Ogré.
I do remember that she spoke for me,
And would have saved me from this scourge and rock.
A goodly princess—I will worship her.

Tinina
sings.
The bark is on the sea, and the breeze is in the sail,
And the star to guide us onward is now gleaming o'er the steep;
We have won the prize we sought, and the whisper of the gale
Would counsel us, the treasure, we have haply won, to keep.
Then away, then away, ere the tyrant seeks his prey,—
There's a murmur of the ocean that's unfriendly to our flight;
And the cricket at mine ear has a chirrup full of fear,
That but lately sung in music of a confident delight.

Leon.
Even as thou wilt, sweet maiden; let us hence
To her who waits in hope and innocence.