 | Eurydice |  |
SCENE VII.
Periander, Leonidas, Ariston.Periander.
In happy time
Thou com'st, Ariston. We were both deceiv'd;
And I revoke my order—But curst Procles
Shall pay me dear for all.
Ariston.
He has, my Lord:
And the sad tale is terrible. I shrink
But to recount it. Slumbering Conscience rous'd,
And flashing in his face the startling prospect
Of his past life, furious he dash'd his head
Against his prison walls. I found him fallen,
A piteous spectacle! rowling in blood,
Deform'd with pain; for agonizing death
Sate hideous on his brow. Faintly he drew
His parting breath: yet all that breath went forth
In blasphemies, assaulting heaven with curses,
The ravings of despair, for frustrating
His impious purpose on the Queen.
Periander.
How dreadful
This period to a life like his! The hand
Of heaven is greatly just—But O my friends,
These strange events have well nigh overturn'd
This tottering brain. I feel I know not what
Of joy and terror, high amaze and transport,
All blended here, and working in wild tumult.
77
'Tis but the motion of a troubled sea,
After sore tempest sinking to a calm.
All will be well, my Lord. Repose and health
Await you in her arms. What bliss is yours?
A second union of your meeting souls!
A better nuptial morn, with love new-rising,
To shine for ever.
| Eurydice | |