SCENE IX.
Enter
Hesione
distracted to
Zimon, Omphales,
and the Herald.
Hesione.
Hark!—'twas the midnight Raven!—
Omphales.
Guard her, Heav'n!
Hesione.
Dost thou not hear it?—hence, Ill-boader, hence!—
—Nay, tell me not! there's Treach'ry! Treach'ry!
—What?—Ammon?—out! I'll hear no more of that!
—Soft! soft!—the Hour is almost come!—'tis dark!
Heav'n sees me not! I'll steal him from the Gods!
Omphales.
Hesione—!
[
Taking her by the Hand, and looking affectionately on her.
Hesione.
Away!—I'll to my Love!—
Villainy! rank Villainy!—nay, 'twill out!—
—Sure I shall meet him soon.
Omphales.
Behold him here
Omphales here!—
Hesione.
When shall I die indeed?
Omphales.
Live, and be happy long within these Arms—
[
Embracing her.
Hesione.
Omphales—
[
Recovering.
Omphales.
'Tis Omphales speaks to thee!—
Hesione.
Far off, methinks, I hear the Charmer's Voice!
—'Tis he! Omphales self!
Omphales.
Now shall I grow
Wild in my Turn, and mad with Extasy!
The Gods at length reward our faithful Loves!
Hesione.
Alas, Omphales—'tis too powerful!—
There is no Room for Hope!
Omphales.
No more of this!
Enough of Sorrow we've already known!
Long Joy succeeds!
Hesione.
Oh, think no more of Joy!
Omphales.
What means my Love?
Hesione.
Oh!—I am cold to Death!—
Your Presence chears me yet—if you survive,
And in an happy Maid forget a true one,
May she adore you with a Love like mine!
Omphales.
Alas! again she raves!—
Zimon.
Wou'd it were so!—
Hesione.
My solemn Vow, Omphales!—it is past!
—I've ta'en the fatal Draught.
Omphales.
What do I hear?—
Ye Pow'rs, defend my Soul from instant Madness!
Hesione.
If I have been in haste—when we shall meet
In endless Peace—you surely may forgive—I
I can no more—
[
Dies.
Zimon.
Oh, fatal Constancy!
Omphales.
I was a Partner in that solemn Vow!
[
Recovering from his Astonishment.
—And thus I share it!
[
Falls on his Sword by her.
Zimon.
Send me Patience, Heav'n!—
Omphales.
Ev'n Death is here inviting!—be it thus
With our Remains—One Urn will hold our Ashes—
[
Dies.
Zimon.
I shall not long survive these heavy Ills!—
Tho' Life becomes a Load too great, to bear,
Let us not murmur yet; but thank the Gods,
'Tis in our Choice to die!—But let it pass!—
Now for the State—the Cause of these our Ills
[
To the Herald.
They soon shall learn—bear thou my Answer thus!
Tell 'em I'll go—but never to return!
That I may conquer—but not live to triumph!
That I, whom Glory, and the Cause of Greece
Were wont to summon to the dusty Field,
Am now call'd forth by Desperation,
The Spur of Cowards! for I am sick of Life,
And wou'd no more look out upon the Day;
Then I demand this Boon! when they at large
Have heard th' Offenders Crimes, that they inflict
A rig'rous Justice on the impious Tryphon.
And lastly give 'em these Instructions from me!
When they shall hear a smooth, and forward Tongue
Descant on Heaven from a Face like Tryphon's,
That they look round, and arm against Destruction:
That to be kind is dang'rous: that they trust
To Heav'n alone; for Heav'n alone is just!
[
Exeunt omnes.
