University of Virginia Library

Act III.

Scene I.

Enter Aristeon with Antigone.
Arist.
What Pleasure could a tender Soul like yours
Receive from looking on the dismal Objects
Those Fields afford?

Antig.
That wretched one of Pity.

Arist.
Shou'd I have shar'd your Pity, lovely Princess,
Had I lain there high on the fatal heap,
Th'upmost of th'Dead?

Antig.
No doubt you shou'd:
I mourn for ev'ry gallant Man that falls,
Serving his King and Country.

Arist.
How much more shou'd you mourn me?
I, who serve none but you;
I, who am subject to no King nor Country,
Whom no Ambition, no Desire of Glory,
Drives to the Field, no Lust of Sovereign Power,
But only your Defence has drawn my Sword.
Oh! give me now the Pity that I beg,
Now while I live, to save me from the Death
You say you'd mourn.

Antig.
I do not see you need it:
You have my Father's Thanks, the Army's Praise;
That might suffice a Soldier.

Arist.
Oh! Antigone,
There is another Name would make me prouder,
Than Soldier, Chief, or Conqueror.

Antig.
The last of those
Might have been spar'd; for you maintain it ill.

Arist.
No wonder that the Victory was not ours,
Since you, nor wish it were, nor pray'd it should be,
How should our Arms prevail?

Antig.
How dare you to tax me
With that Impiety? I wish'd the War
Were at an end; I wish'd as did become me.

Arist.
Oh! Madam, if I durst explain your meaning,
Which of the Armies was your chief Concern,
And which you offer'd up your Prayers for most?
It should be that you wish the King of Epirus
A Conqu'ror here in Argos, o'er your Father,
Rather than that his Son, the lov'd Helenus,
Shou'd fall on Argive Swords.

Antig.
Lest you interpret
My Thoughts with so much boldness any longer,
And to confound you more than doubt can do,
Learn the most secret Wishes of my Soul;
I pray'd my Father might return in safety
From all the Dangers of the bloody Field:
Heav'n heard me; and it sent th'Prince you nam'd,
When he stood most in need of such an Aid,
To save him from the then descending Sword.
My Pray'rs were next for safety of th'Prince,
Who sav'd my Father: You might had the same
For the same Action; but your Arms were busy'd
At too great distance to have brought relief.

Arist.
Curse on my Stars, that give my Rival all,
All the Occasions to be brave and noble,
And will allow me none.

Antig.
Acknowledge rather
The Stars are equally the Friends of both:
'Tis only he takes care to seize on all,
While you with heedless Eyes let all pass by.

Arist.
Yet this same Prince, whose Cause you plead so well,
Your Father does esteem his mortal Foe,
And will pursue his hated Life as such.

Antig.
Now you've charg'd him with that foul Ingratitude,
As you did me before, with want of Piety:
Be judge your self, whether the Prince of Epirus,
Or you are most our Enemy.

Arist.
This Night will show't
My Orders are to guard the Palace Gates,
Where you are lodg'd; and be assur'd I'll die
In your Defence rather than yield you up;
And will your Prince's Proofs of Love be such?
When you shall see him breathing bold defiance,
March his Epiran Army to your Doors,
Slaught'ring your Subjects in your very sight,
And scatter Fires about the flaming City,
Nor spare the gilded Roofs that cover you.

Ant.
If I must lose my liberty at night
To be your Prisoner, leave it me till then;
Yet thus much I may tell before I go,
I'll make my Duty, and my Love agree,
As much at variance as they seem to be:
All I shall pray for in the fatal Strife,
Shall be my Father's and my Prince's Life:
To you, immortal Gods, the rest I trust,
You best know how to act, and will be just.

[Exit.
Enter Helenus.
Hel.
Thus far I have pass'd unknown by all their Guards;
But Love, that adds more sharpness to the sight
Has made the Prince of Argos find me out.
I see he knows me, and it is as vain
As base to fly.

Arist.
Ha! wou'd you shun me, Prince?
Think not, that this Disguise can keep you hid
From piercing Eyes like mine.

Hel.
I wou'd not have it.
Next to th'meeting those I came to seek,
I'm glad to meet with thee: Make no Enquiries;
For whatsoever was my Errand hither,
This is my Business now.

[Draws.
Arist.
So forward, Sir?
You know not that you are within th'Walls,
Where at my Call, my Slaves cou'd come, and crush you,
Without my trouble to unsheath my Sword.

Hel.
I know it, and that drives me forward yet
To end with thee, e'er thy base odds arrive,
And push this Ghost before me down the Shades.

[Fight.
Arist.
(Wounded) The first, the second time disarm'd:
Gods: ye are kind, do but take Life and all,
And then I'll thank you.

Hel.
They have spar'd you that,
And I restore you this.

Arist.
I scorn to take it;
I scorn to owe my Life, or Arms to thee.

Hel.
You shall not need, for I first ow'd you mine;
I do but pay the Debt.

Arist.
Instruct me, Sir,

Hel.
When you resolv'd to fight me hand to hand,
And drew not in your Multitudes upon me,
Then I was made your Debtor.

Arist.
What! then you thought your self secure from harm
In single Combat with me, proud Triumpher?

Hel.
No, but I knew you cou'd securely vanquish,
By calling in your Guards.

Arist.
And cou'dst thou think
So meanly of me, that I wou'd use their aid?

Hel.
I still expected what thou did'st; and what,
Had I met thee within my Father's Camp,
I too had done.

Arist.
Now I'm lost indeed:
Whilst I found Rage and Fury like my own,
I cou'd storm on; but Kindness melts me down.
Give me thine hand, and tell me, gen'rous Prince,
Your noble Carriage forces me to ask you;
Say, is it possible we can be Friends?

Hel.
Not whilst we love, and hardly whilst we live.
Glory and Love makes us eternal Foes;
Which should we strive to meet, like raging Seas,
Wou'd rush between our Fold, and throw us far asunder.

Arist.
What shall we do?

Hel.
Why? One of us must die
To make the other happy.

Arist.
On those Terms then,
I take my forfeit Sword: We'll meet to Night,
Resolve to end our difference in our Death;
And lest the Darkness shou'd not make distinctions,
Antigone be th'Word, and this th'Place,

Hel.
That charming Name shall draw me to th'Combat,
Ev'n from the Rere of all my hindmost Troops;
The very mention of it wings me to thee,
Swift as it flies to me.

Arist.
You will not fail.

Hel.
I will not, tho' my Father shou'd deferr
His purpos'd Storm; tho' I were sure I mov'd
To certain Ruine, and a thousand Prodigies
Foretold my Fall, tho' all th'Skies forewarn'd me,
Heav'n flam'd above, and the Earth yawn'd beneath,
I'll on to win my Love, or meet my Death.

Arist.
Stay, generous Prince, I owe a mighty Sum,
And have a Soul that scorns to be ungrateful:
Oh! what, what Reparation can I make?

Hel.
That of your Sword to Night.

Arist.
That heaps on more,
And plunges deeper in th'desperate Debt.
I owe e'en that to you, nor can I turn
The fatal Point against the Prince that gave it;
Yet there is a way, but a dear costly way,
At a large over-rate, to pay back all.
May I not guess your Business was to Argos
To see the Princess?

Hel.
I must confess it was.

Arist.
Down, swelling heart; Oh! Heav'n, I wou'd do something,
But that my struggling Soul rebells within me:
It shall, it shall have vent; Go see the Princess,
She only waits till she sees me withdrawn,
To fly into your Arms; but then remember
Your gallant Usage is repay'd with Int'rest.
And we may fight again with boundless hatred.
I grudge the Ransome, that I give for Life;
But go, e'er I repent, and beg to die.
Go now, the great, unwilling Grant is past;
And, oh! believe I let you look your last.

[Exeunt.
Re-enter Helenus with Antigone.
Hel.
Oh! my Antigone, after six Year's Absence;
A tedious Age in the Records of Time,
But vastly longer in Accounts of Love.
What shall I say, to tell thee that my Soul
Is full with Joy, how shall I pour it forth
In Thanks to Heav'n, that in one happy Moment
Has recompenc'd an Age of Torments past?
To see thee still the same, no Beauty faded:
To see this matchless Truth, to see thee mine,
Is all the Gods cou'd grant, or I cou'd ask.

Antig.
Nor are my Joys and Transports less than yours.
I give an equal share of Thanks to Heav'n,
And equal Love to thee; but oh! my Lord,
I can't see you in an Enemy's Town,
(Such I must think them, who are so to you)
Without a great allay of Grief and Fear.

Hel.
The Gods have yet preserv'd us from our Youth;
Should we mistrust them now, by that we break
The League our selves, and fall out first with Heaven.
No, Love; the Powers above are Just and Kind,
And when they mould, such heavenly forms as yours,
They grow our Rivals in their Beauteous work,
And place the Carefull'st Genius for your guard.

Ant.
I fear not for my self, for you I fear,
Exposed to all the horrid rage of War,
In Bloody Fields, the Shaft that reaches you,
Brings Death to both, for it would wound me too.

Hel.
Vanish such Thoughts, and let the little time
That Heav'n allows, be wholly spent in Love:
Speak then, but speak the tend'rest things you can,
Such as did first express our Infant Passions,
When I Return'd from our last Wars in Macedon,
Laden with Spoils, and you my Richest Prize,
Were made my Prisoner, in my Father's Court.

Ant.
Oh! would this War, had such an End as that,
And I again your Captive.

Hel.
You had the Name,
And oh! the Name of Captive was too much,
Too much for you to bear, but still, my Love,
'Twas I that drag'd the Chains, and drag them still.

Ant.
That happy time first Joyn'd our youthful hearts,
And oh! may none divide them.

Hel.
No time, Antigone,
No date of Years shall make our Flames expire,
But Every one that lengthens out our lives,
Shall add unto our loves.

Ant.
Hear heav'n, and Judge us then, the happy'st Pair
Your hands have made; and oh! if I prove false,
False to the Prince to whom I give my Soul,
And Life, and Love; may that detested Name
I scorn to mention, brand me whil'st I live.

Hel.
Oh! hear me too, and let our Vows ascend
Together to your Skies, and some good God
Enroll them there, if ever I forget thee,
If I neglect to pay that awful Love,
I only Swear to thee, or ever look
With the least wishing glance, on other Beauties,
May Fortune, in my Battles, Change like me;
May Fame fly from me, and I fly from Fame;
May all my Laurels wither on my brows,
And Cowards snatch them thence.

Ant.
Methinks, at two such Passions Heav'n should smile,
The Jocund Orbs roul on in better Order,
The Earth be wrapt in quiet, War should Cease,
And Golden Peace be Prosp'rous.

Hel.
Oh! go on,
Speak yet a little more, a little longer,
For by the Gods, that listen to our talk,
'Tis Heav'n to me to hear you, not the Tongues
Of Deities plead so well, my Heart leaps up,
And pants at all you utter, each pointed Syllable,
From those dear lovely Lips, runs to my Soul,
And Circles in my Blood.

Ant.
Remember Love,
What golden days, we at Epirus past,
When every Rouling day, brought new Delights,
Sometimes we trod the Mazes of the Woods,
And sometimes stretch'd beneath a spreading Shade,
We lay, and listen'd, to each others talk.
Sometimes we heard the Huntsman's distant Voice,
And in one Chariot both pursu'd the Chace;
And sometimes sailing in a gilded Barge,
We saw the pleasing Wonders of the deep.
Ambitious Waves, that strove to climb the Rocks
That bound them in, and roar'd to be repuls'd,
And Monsters, mounted on the back of Waves,
When with full Sails, returning to the Court,
You'd point me out, the then descending Sun,
Scatt'ring his beams about him, as he sinks,
And gilding Heav'n above, and Seas beneath
With paint, no mortal Pencil can express,
And still our Talk was Love.

Hel.
Remember too, how I alarm'd your Soul,
When I began the harsh discourse of War;
The hazards that my Youth has yet escap'd,
With all my earliest Combats in the Field,
Here was my first appearance in my Arms,
Here my first Actions, such my first Command,
Here wounded, and dismounted from my Horse,
My Father timely rescu'd me from Death,
Then would you Clasp me, in your fearful Arms,
And start at every mention of my Danger,
And beg, with trembling Lips, to end my Story.

Ant.
Stop, stop it now, for all my fears return,
At the sad thought of what is yet to come,
The gath'ring Clouds urge on approaching Night,
Which falls with baleful influence o'er the Earth,
It labours with the Birth its Womb contains,
Which soon must be disclos'd: methinks I see it,
Soldiers, and Chiefs, all mingled in the War,
A Thousand Deaths among them, and you, my Prince,
In the thick press, amidst a Thousand Dangers.
Gods! Gods! preserve, my too, too, venturous Love.

Hel.
'Tis done, they cannot hear you beg in vain,
Thou shalt behold me come with Conquest back,
Crowns in my gift, to place upon thy Head,
And Kingdoms to dispose of at your Feet.

Ant.
I take the happy Omen from your self,
Your sprightly looks, your dauntless mein, and gesture,
Your Every Action speaks a sure Success,
Yet, Oh! let me remember Duty still
In all the hottest fury of the Fight,
Even then, when merciless Death makes no distinctions,
My Father, and my Brother, be your Care,
As you are Heav'ns, and mine.

Hel.
They die that dare
Once offer at their lives; should Pyrrhus self
Engage them in the Fight, I'd stop his Sword,
And seize his thund'ring Arm.

Ant.
Good Heav'n defend them,
And Chiefly you, for oh! thy Death my Love.

Hel.
Again that fear?

Ant.
Forgive me for 'tis past,
And yet it makes me weep, to think we are mortal,
That the Cold hand of Death, at last must come,
That two, who love as we do, should be forc'd
Ever to part, the Rent will be like that
Of Soul and Body.

Hel.
Fate is yet far off,
It seems aloof, as on some distant Coast,
And all the Darts it hurls, are swallow'd up
In the wide Seas that roul betwixt us,
We may enjoy whole Ages in our Loves
E're it can reach us here, but when at last,
Our death, that necessary Ill, will happen,
We'll take our flight together.
When thou by pleasant Journeys shalt arrive
To those blest Seats, where all the happy live,
Whilst all the shining Host of Heaven make room,
Wait at their Azure gates, till thou shalt Come.
Then shall some God, the Chiefest, most Divine,
And most Imperial of the Heavenly Line,
Receive thee in his Arms, and lead thee in,
Whilst all the Joyful Powers, no longer poor,
Smile at their Wealth, proud of their new got Store,
And never were so vastly rich before.

[Exeunt.