University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Enter Dion and Æmylius.
Dion.
These are our Limits, which I must not pass,
For all beyond, the Argive Lands extend:
I hear their Guards upon their march to meet you,
And leave you to their Convoy.

Æm.
Thou good old General of a Godlike Prince,
All health to him, and next to him, to thee.

Dion.
I grieve to part, since you must go to Argos,
And I am loth to have you for a Foe:
There will be Action there, and Roman hands
Are never Idle at a time like that.

Æm.
Yet now I shall not draw my peaceful Sword;
For as I'm sent Rome's Envoy, not her Souldier,
I stand exempted from the Call of War.

Dion.
How will the joyful News transport the King,
That though Æmylius would not side with him,
He will not fight against him! He shall be told,
And his great Soul shall give a due Acknowledgment
In sparing Romans for a Roman's sake.

Æm.
Gods! why are Kings your Images beneath,
The liveliest Portraitures of heavenly Powers,
Created subject to Eternal Discord?
Why is War wag'd for ever on the Earth?
Why are not less malignant Planets plac'd
To guide their Actions, to preserve their Peace,
And influence their Lives to run on smoothly
With the same Harmony that moves your Spheres?

Dion.
Boundless Ambition, vast desire of Empire,
And Fame for gallant Deeds perform'd in War,
Still spur them forward through the dusty Field,
While Reason all in vain would hold them back.

Æm.
Why should our hands rebel against our hearts?
I love a gallant Enemy in my Soul,
And with regret encounter when I meet;
The Breasts where Vertue dwells are sacred Seats,
Nor should they be prophan'd, no more than Shrines;
No Wounds should enter there; but base Plebeians,
Sordid, and void of Spirits as of Sense,
True mortal Stuff, should gorge the maw of Death.

Dion.
O let me be secur'd of such a Friend,
If my great Master has not all your Soul,
Let the remaining part be given to me,
And place a Loyal Subject next this Lord.

Æm.
Sure we are ally'd, our Age and Hearts alike,
And thou wer't meant a Roman, but thy Stars
At thy Nativity mistook the Soil,
And cast thee on a too too distant Clime
Far from the Bounds of Rome.

Dion.
My Fate has placed me,
Where, if I had not found a Lord, like Pyrrhus,
I would have chose a Consul to command me,
And offer'd him my Service.

Æm.
The sound of trampling Horse encreases still,
Which speaks them near; time steals away insensibly,
And old Mens talk is tedious as their Years,
Who after several Farewells, still talk on.

Dion.
But now the Night urges our last adieu,
And wakeful Birds, impatient for the Morning,
Already do begin to call it forth
With Notes like Trumpets sounding a Retreat:
Short is the Souldiers Ceremony, a Hand and Heart
Is all we give at parting.

Æm.
And that is all
That the most ardent Lovers have to give:
Once more, all health to Pyrrhus, and to thee.

[Exit.
Enter Helenus.
Hel.
Oh! how I grudge the hated Steps I take,
To lead me farther off the dear Apartments
That hold my Love; how eager to return.
I burn with Fires more scorching than before,
And heightned Charms dilate the rising Flame;
Heav'n has took pains to work her to a Miracle:
A wondrous Faith, joyn'd with a matchless Form.

Dion.
You are welcom, Prince:
I thank you that you have deceiv'd my Fears,
And by returning thus, outrun my Hopes.

Hel.
Oh Dion! when will the War begin?

Dion.
Still better; in that strain you speak Success,
A Prælude to a Pæan; soon, I hope,
And soon the Conquest follow.

Hel.
You have seen me fighting.

Dion.
And doubt not but to see you so again,
With the same fortune as you have fought before.

Hel.
I tell thee Friend, I will outdoe my self;
My rising Soul strains to a higher Pitch
Than e'er it reach'd till now; Revenge and Love,
Fury and Jealousie, and thirst of Honour,
All rage and roul within my troubled Mind,
And work the Tempest high:
Lead me, my General, lead me to the War;
And oh! employ your interest with the King
To hasten on the too too tedious hour.
To me the flying Minutes seem but slow;
E'er this I would have been amidst the Foe,
Forcing my dreadful Passage with my Sword,
Possess'd of all that Conquest can afford:
Through thickest Ranks, I would like Lightning break;
Love and Revenge make all resistance weak.

Enter Pyrrhus and Souldiers.
Pyrrh.
See your dead Prince plac'd on the highest Elephant,
That all the Army, at the dismal Object,
May with more Fury kindle to Revenge.
To them.]
Oh! Dion oh! Helenus Son and General,
Where have you loiter'd? now our busie Fates
Call for all Hands.

Dion.
Mine, Royal Sir, are ready;
And my Heart joins them, it strikes out with Vigour,
And beats thick knocks against my aged Breast.

Pyrrh.
Helenus, lead the Van, Ten thousand Men,
Are order'd to attend you to the On-set:
March to the Ramparts, South of Juno's Temple,
And while our warlike Trumpets sound to Battle,
And the great Squadrons mingle in the Wars;
Suspend, ye Gods, the Thunder of your Skies,
Withold your Bolts, that play with idle Rage,
And fall with harmless Flames on Mountains tops.
Look on more dreadful Actions done beneath,
See our Swords strike, with more dispatch, in death.

SONG.

[A Battle sounded.
Enter Lanassa.
Lan.
I, now it is begun; alas, my Pyrrhus!
How my Soul shakes within me when I think
What Dangers thy dear Life is thus expos'd to!
Ah! whither does he run? he rushes fearless
On pointed Swords, the Arm of Death lifts at him;
But yet he shall not perish unattended.
If Fate ordains our fall, we'll fall together:
Together walk through all the gloomy Arbours,
The Grots, and Mansions of the Blessed dead;
Together stretch'd o'er the black Banks of Lethe,
Look down upon the Stream that glides beneath us.
Oh! Blissful prospect of a future state,
Delightful Ecstasie in Thoughts of Death!
Methinks, through all the vast and verdant Meads
No Rose lies blasted, and no Myrtle fades;
But ever bloom, where my lov'd Pyrrhus treads:
Through all Elyzium, all the flow'ry Groves,
Each ravish'd Ghost with wonder sees our Loves.
Pleas'd with the View, they point us out, and cry,
Loe! Yonder, where the happy Lovers lie!
Urg'd by their transport to forsake their Bowers,
They wait on us, and all the Train is ours.

[Exit.
SCENE, Changes to the City of Argos, as Besieged.
Enter Antigonus, Demetrius and Aristeon.
Ant.
Already Pyrrhus has begun the Storm;
His Elephants, like huge Machines of War,
With their Broadsides lie pressing on our Walls;
And from the Castles planted on their Backs
Pour forth an Army down upon the Town.
Heard you that Shout?

Dem.
We did; it follow'd something
Loud as it self, that sounded like the burst
Of Brazen Gates.

Enter Martius.
Mart.
All's lost; The Foes are enter'd;
The Torrent rouls this way.

Ant.
Undaunted yet;
With Bravery, that deserves a better Fortune,
We'll strive to change the partial face of War.

[Exeunt.
Manet Aristeon.
Arist.
I hope 'tis Epire's Prince has made his Entrance.
If so, Antigone's Name will draw him here.
Helenus from within.]
Antigone—

Ant.
Hark! 'Tis already answer'd.
He caught it like the Echo, at distance,
And closely follows its return himself.

Enter Helenus.
Hel.
Now, now, the wish'd for time at last is come,
While publick Interest draws the Swords of others,
To end one private Quarrel by our selves.

Arist.
Let's not spend a Minute in our talk;
The Hours are precious, and our Swords can plead
Our Cause the best, and stop our Tongues for ever.

Enter Antigone.
[Fight. Aristeon falls.
Ant.
Methoughts I heard you, Love; but knew not well
Whether it was the Voice of Fate, or you.

Arist.
Oh! 'twas the Voice of Fate to me; it spoke
The loss of Life and Love; yet in my Death
I joy to see you with my closing Eyes,
To take the farewell View before I go,
And bear thy dear Idea to the Skies.
There, as I glide along the Bowers of Heav'n,
And view the celebrated Beauties there,
But find none fair enough to move my wonder,
No heavenly Excellence of force to Charm me,
Ev'n there I'll think once more upon Antigone.
[After a Pause.]
What not a word? But do not, do not speak;
There is an Eloquence in silent pity
Beyond Expression.
Farewell thou dear, but cruel Fair, farewell.
Oh! I had many wondrous Things to say,
And wondrous Love should shine in all I said;
But that my fleeting Soul out-flies my words,
And leaves my Speech unfinish'd.
Too happy Prince, farewell.
Black Mists have overcast my dying Eyes,
I cannot now dispute the Beauteous Prize:
All my last Hopes, I, with my Life, resign;
The Conquest, both in War and Love, is thine.

Ant.
Oh! Lead me Love; where I may hide my self
From Sights of Horrour that affright my Soul.
To me, the War is dreadful as the Sea
To unexperienc'd Mariners; and I tremble
At every blast that blows: Heav'n send the Calm.

Hel.
Thither, my Love, retire to yonder Tow'r;
These Souldiers be your Guard: Methinks my Father
Upbraids me for my stay; I'll on to meet him,
And help to Crown the Conquests of this Night.

Ant.
I go; But I conjure you, Prince, to be
More careful of your self, and less of me.

[Two Souldiers enter, and carry Arist. off.
[Exeunt severally.
Trumpets and Kettle Drums.
Enter Pyrrhus, Dion, and Souldiers.
Pyrrh.
Push on the Fight, and follow Fortune close,
She flies before with all her Sails upon her;
And gath'ring in the fullest gusts of War,
Will quickly reach the Port.

The Scene Draws, and Discovers the Image of a Bull and Wolf Engraven in Copper, and placed at the Entrance of the Forum.
Dion.
Why stop you, Sir?

Pyrrh.
Oh! Dion, shall I tell you? I'm afraid.

Dion.
Do not, Sir;
You would not be believ'd although you did.

Pyrrh.
Look on those Figures there.

Dion.
And what of them?

Pyrrh.
I had a Message sent me from the Gods,
To tell me, where I met two such as these,
There Fate should meet with me.

Dion.
Who brought their Message?

Pyrrh.
A God himself, one who was lately made;
And mingling in the Councils with the rest,
Reveal'd this Part to me.

Dion.
And you believe him?

Pyrrh.
'Twere impious to do otherwise; yet, my Friend,
I cannot fear him yet.

Dion.
Then give me leave
To fear for you; Their Warning has been Kind,
And ought to be Obey'd.

Pyrrh.
Shall we then lose
So fair a Prospect?

Dion.
We may lose our selves
By venturing to obtain a nearer View:
We seem to lean over some hanging Clift,
O'er-looking of the Wreck that Floats below.
Should we stretch more, beyond the Verge, we fall
Infinite Fathoms down, and sink for ever.

Pyrrh.
You have prevail'd, the Gods shall be obey'd;
It is no Cowardize to yield to Heav'n:
Some other Night shall recompence for this
Less full of Fate. Go order the Retreat;
I'll be the last my self.

[Exit Dion.
Enter Martius.
Pyrrh.
What art thou,
That haunts me still in fight? I've seen thee thrice
Fixing thy glaring Eyes on me alone:
And with a Pride that scorns a smaller Conquest,
Aim only at my Life. Thy Arms are Roman;
If thou wouldst Kill me, do it with a Gallantry
Worthy thy Place of Birth.

Mart.
I am a Roman;
I have sought thee in the thickest Ranks of Battle,
And watch'd all Night to have thee my self;
But the throng'd press that still encountred you,
(For I saw not one who dar'd to meet you single)
Have held me off till now.

Pyrrh.
I cannot think
Thou hast receiv'd a hire to give me Death.

Mart.
I have; My Fame and Honour bribe me high,
And thus I strive for purchase.

Pyrrh.
Thou hast it there
[Fight. Martius falls.
At a dear rate; Fate seems not near me yet,
Spite of its menace; the Retreat begins,
And makes our distance greater.

[Exit.
Shout from within.
Enter Lanassa, Supported Bleeding.
Lan.
I heard the Argives shout the death of Pyrrhus,
And rush'd into the War, where to my Wish
I met my own. Oh! hold a little Fate;
Could I but see my Lord before I dy'd,
Contentedly I am thine.

Re-enter Pyrrhus, Dion, both Wounded and Supported by Helenus.
Pyrrh.
'Tis done; my Fate has caught me in my Flight.
Art thou here Love? and art thou wounded too?
Nay, then it takes me whole.

Lan.
It was well contriv'd,
To Summon me that hour it call'd for you;
Else I had come unsent for.

Pyrrh.
So you do.
That Death was none of thine, and Heav'n will wonder
To see an unexpected guest arrive.

Lan.
Receive, my Love, my last and sad Adieu:
The fleeting Souls of others, when they die,
Are breath'd into the Air, and vanish there;
But I pour mine into thy lovely Lips,
Its wish'd for Lodge: Thus dying both together,
We seem as at the Altar once again,
Renewing Vows of Everlasting love,
And joyning hands and hearts before the Priest;
But now we Wed more firmly than at first:
For Hymen's Office is perform'd by Death.
Death surer than our Nuptials ties us fast,
And these are Bonds that will for ever last.

[Dies.
Pyrrh.
And so they are, I shall not stay behind:
And yet, ye Gods! 'twas strange, 'twas wondrous strange
A Life so made of Miracles as mine;
Preserv'd till now at the expence of Prodigies,
Should end at last so meanly, by a Stone
Hurl'd by a Woman's hand; the very Thought
Urges my Death the swifter.

Dion.
Heav'n! what a suddain whirl of Fate was here?
Just as we had hunted Fortune to the toils,
And almost had her sure; then, then to let her
Break the involving Net, and change the Chase,
Pursuing those by whom she was pursu'd,
Is such a Caprice that has no Excuse.

Pyrrh.
I had forgot, how goes the Battle on?

Hel.
As Ships in stormy Seas, their Pilot's lost,
Drive backward with the Tide.

Pyrrh.
But one thing more:
Oh! Close those Bleeding Wounds that gape so wide;
Thrust off your Death awhile, and live my General;
Live to entreat the fortunate Antigonus
To use Helenus well.

Hel.
There needs not that;
For I can put my self beyond his Power,
And own no other Sire or King but you.

Pyrrh.
By Heav'n you should; did not Fate differ here:
Your Love still lives for you, mine dies with me;
You have a Bribe sufficient for your Life,
And I have mine for Death: Farewell, my Son.
My Eye-balls now begin to swim in Death,
And my Queen dances in my dizzy Sight;
I'll seize her thus, thus make her mine for ever.
As Merchants, that remove to foreign Climes,
Carry their Families with them, my Love, my Self,
My good old General, to make up the Third:
Three such as we, shall Charm the Eyes of Heaven;
And their Discourse shall be of nought but us.
Their Tongues shall in our Praises be imploy'd,
Our Loves and Wars the Theme of every God.

[Dies.
Dion.
Methinks old Men do linger in their Death
As much as in their Lives; my Blood moves slowly,
And drop by drop falls from my withered Veins,
Distilling like an Icicle, 'till at last,
'Tis quite dissolved.
After this Loss, life could no Joys afford;
Death pleases best, that sends me to my Lord.

[Dies.
Hel.
Farewell, Illustrious Father, Vertuous Queen
And good old Man, farewell; while here I gaze,
My struggling Soul is doubtful which to choose;
To live with her I love, or dye with you.
But oh! She comes, she comes to end the Strife,
And Love for her makes me in love with Life.

Trumpets and Kettle Drums.
Enter Antigonus, Demetrius, Æmylius, Antigone.
Æm.
See what a stately Pomp of Death lies here,
And where the Princely Mourner stands; the sole
Survivour of the royal Race of Pyrrhus,
And almost of the War, Oh! grant, ye Gods,
That every Son of Rome, that falls in Battle,
May fall as brave as these.

Dem.
Death was this Night devouring as the Deluge,
And all the World of Epiran seems swallow'd up;
And but one Person sav'd.

Ant.
[Gives Antigone to Helenus.
Short are the Glories that our Lives can boast,
And our aspiring Thoughts in Death are lost.