University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Enter Tryphon to Ammon.
Tryphon.
Hope, Ammon, hope!
All shall be well!

Ammon.
He has consented then?

Tryphon.
Not absolutely given his Consent;
Nor have I grossly put him to the Test;
But only by Insinuations
Have yet obliquely touch'd upon the Subject;
Observing how he might be wrought upon;
How far we might proceed with Confidence.
As thus;—supposing you had lov'd his Daughter!
That Providence had thrown you in her Way!
—I gag'd him so—He answers in a Sigh,
And wish'd some Pow'r might guide him to her Good.

Ammon.
Excellent Tryphon!—we must lose no Time:
While warm, he'll best be form'd to our Intent.

Tryphon.
Fear not! I left him at the Sacrifice:
Soon as 'tis ended, he appointed me
To meet him here; then will I press it home,
And in such Terms as shall not fail to move.

Ammon.
A Doubt yet haunts my Mind—Hesione,
She bears her Disappointment heavily,
And may be violent.

Tryphon.
Her Father's Will
Is sacred to her, as the Law of Heaven!
How is she fam'd for her Obedience?
I look not on her, as on one consenting:
But, trust me, Ammon, many a stubborn Maid
Softens like Wax in the Embracer's Hold,
And yields to strange Impressions in his Arms.

Ammon.
O, let me feel the mourning Beauty there!
I'll kiss away her Tears, suppress her Sighs,
Warm her, and find the Passage to her Heart;
While, like a Flow'r reviving in the Sun,
She shall look up, and bless her Comforter!
Joy, like the Light, shall break thro' all her Sorrow,
Chear her sad Heart, and drive Omphales thence!

Tryphon.
First he must hence! 'tis he whom we shou'd fear,
'Tis him we shou'd suspect of Violence!
Secure him instantly!—I've had a Thought—
Suppose him Dead! it shall be after told,
And with a shew of Reason, that Despair
Drew his own Sword against him.

Ammon.
'Tis too late:
My Care already has diverted him.
I took him in the height of Disappointment;
Acted the Friend; discours'd his Injuries o'er,
Told him I felt 'em all, and thus advis'd him.
Get thee to Athens; to the noble Youth,
Thy Friends, and Partners of the sacred Band,
The Band, which by a solemn League are bound,
To succour, and redress each other's Wrongs.
Tell 'em, how Zimon has dishonour'd thee;
Conjure 'em, to assist thee in thy Right;
Select a resolute, and a faithful Few;
Secure 'em in the Covert of yon Grove,
'Till, at my promis'd Signal, they rush in
Impetuous, and bear away the Maid.
Blinded with Love, he embrac'd the Enterprize,
And, to confirm his Resolution,
I told him, that Hesione approv'd it.

Tryphon.
But how hast thou secur'd him from Success?

Ammon.
Know, it is thus contriv'd! this very Hour
A Paper will be found before the Senate,
Declaring the whole Purpose of Omphales;
Their very Place of Consultation.
Imagine the Result of this Attempt!
Can such a Violence against this House
Be known, and prosper? at a Juncture too
When Athens must implore her Gen'ral's Aid?

Tryphon.
True! Valour's ever courted in Distress.

Ammon.
Nay, more! our Law makes instant Banishment
The Meed of such Offenders.

Tryphon.
Yet whene'er again
Thy Friend grows dang'rous, see him in his Tomb!
So is he well secur'd! the Maxim's good:
A sanguine Politician taught it me.
It might have sav'd thee too from Calumny.
How will the rigid Votaries of Justice
Exclaim against thee, shou'd it e'er be known,
How you've deceiv'd this Friend? this Intimate?

Ammon.
Out on the subtle Herd! let me succeed,
And thou shalt find 'em loudest in my Praise:
The Fortunate were never in the Wrong.
Invest me once in Zimon's large Possessions,
My Faults shall die, and Flatt'ry will not fail
To picture Virtues for me.

Tryphon.
Let, at lest,
The Name of Friend be lost! contrive some Slight
Of which thou may'st accuse him.

Ammon.
Be it so!

Tryphon.
'Twill set some Gloss upon this Action.
—Tho' if I fail not in my Stratagem,
Zimon shall even court thee to thy Wish.

Ammon.
Succeed what will succeed!—I'm well resolv'd!
Tho' poor, I'm proud; and cannot suffer Scorn;
Have Appetites, and want the Means to feed 'em.
Courage, Extravagance, and Luxury
Was all th' Inheritance my Father left me.
My Pride is my fond Mother's Legacy:
My young Hippolitus! she oft wou'd cry,
My little Theseus! thou art nobly born!
Sprung from a Race of Heroes, and of Gods!
—Then in the Streets of Athens thus they have it—
Behold the Orphan! Zimon's Pensioner!—
How is that House decay'd!—By Heav'ns a Dog
Wou'd blush, and turn to be so pointed at!

Tryphon.
No more of this! the happy Change is near!
Learn to forget thy self, and thy old Friends.
Henceforth thou shalt be reckon'd with the First;
At Feasts, and Games be plac'd next Zimon's self;
Shine in the Tyrian Dye; be gaz'd upon;
Envy'd by many, yet caress'd by all.
The Time draws on—thou hast a Part to act
In my Design, which now thou art to learn.

Ammon.
But see! the Object of my Wish appears!
And, like Aurora wrapt in sullen Clouds,
Advances mourning. Yet so ripe she seems!
Her Charms so ready! so compos'd for Love!

Tryphon.
Let us not now be found in Conference!
I wou'd retire.

Ammon.
To yonder Portico—
I will but gaze awhile, and follow thee.

[Exit Tryphon.