 | The Spartan Dame |  |
45
Act IV.
Scene I.
Enter Cleombrotus.Cleom.
Thus far I'm undiscover'd. O frail Flesh!
And Vanity of Fancy! My Desires,
Which mounted me above my mortal State,
Whose Rage, I thought, nothing but Age could tame,
How have they droopt the Wing? How are they sunk
Into the poor Concerns of Earth again?
Now, Crites, I can hear thee. Sure there is
Something extraordinary, as his Carriage was:
He does not use to contradict me: And,
If I remember right, I heard him speak
Something abruptly of Leonidas.
There may be Danger near: I must be gone:
Thelamia takes me for her Husband still:
I wonnot undeceive her, that may serve
To morrow Night, and I can stay till then—
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A Light! She follows me.
Thel.
O! Do not find
A Trouble in my Love, which thus attends
In Duty now: Speak, and assure my Fears,
You are not angry with me: O my Lord!
I can forgive your stealing from my Bed,
Your Silence there, but not this Silence now.
What! Turn away! Nay, going from me too!
That must not be: This Hand, my Lord, is mine,
Nor can I part with it without a Look—
[He turns to her, she drops his Hand, shows her Surprize, by standing stupidly still a while without speaking; he offering to speak, she snatches at his Sword, draws it half out; failing in that, she throws herself into a Chair, in the most violent Passion of Grief.
Thel.
The Gods refuse me their Assistance too.
Here let me fall forgotten.
Cleom.
Let me raise you.
Thel.
Touch me not, Monster, thou hast sunk me down,
And can'st not raise me—
Cleom.
To my Bed and Throne.
Thel.
Dishonour fill thy Bed, and Death thy Throne.
Cleom.
That's an unkind Return.
Thel.
Art thou not gone? Thou hast accomplish'd
The fatal Ends of thy Design on me;
What wou'dst thou more?
Cleom.
I wou'd bring Comfort to you.
Thel.
O thou Destroyer! Fly, fly from my Eyes:
The sad Remains of my poor wretched Life
I wou'd employ in Sorrow for my Fate,
In Penitence, and Mercy to the World:
But while thou stand'st in View, I cannot weep:
My Eyes refuse the Comfort of their Tears
To my Misfortunes: All their Moisture feeds
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Be eas'd by Curses on thee.
Cleom.
Do not curse:
Or if you must, think where you shou'd begin.
Thel.
O! where begin, indeed! All, all deserve
Alike from me, the Gods and Fate, Crites and thou.
Cleom.
The Gods, for making you thus heavenly fair,
And I, for loving you.
Thel.
Both have been my Curse.
Cleom.
Crites and Fate were but my Instruments;
Those you have curs'd in me.
Thel.
That Crites! O!
How was he trusted! how has he betray'd!
But I myself am guilty of my Fall,
By a fond, fatal Ignorance abus'd,
And made th'Accomplice of my Ruin too.
Cleom.
That fatal Ignorance, then, is your Excuse.
Thel.
O! there is none in Nature, no Excuse
For Crimes like mine: My Sister's Husband's—Oh!
Cleom.
Be patient, Madam, there's your Remedy,
You have no other now.
Thel.
Yes, there is one
Revenge that wonnot fail me—While I live,
I must solicit that of Gods and Men;
And Earth or Heav'n will do me Justice, sure.
Cleom.
I'll do you the best Justice; he advis'd,
And hear me calmly—What is done, is past,
Without your Crime: If it be any Crime,
'Tis so in me: But then 'tis such a Crime,
The Purchase of my Peace, and so belov'd,
I never can repent.
Thel.
O hardned Wretch!
Cleom.
'Tis yet a Secret: While you keep it so,
Your Husband is not wrong'd; or, if he be,
He, who has done it; can maintain the Wrong:
And then where's your Revenge!
Thel.
Art thou secure
In Wickedness? That Fool's Security
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To all the World, as, while I have Life, I will
Proclaim my Wrongs—
Cleom.
Your Shame, your Infamy:
The World will call it so: And then you make
A Monster of your Husband.
Thel.
O! Revenge, Revenge! thus, raving thro' the Streets,
I'll cry for Vengeance on thee: All good Men,
Fathers, and Husbands, Brothers, Spartan born,
In the Defence and Cause of Chastity,
Will arm to save their Daughters, Sisters, Wives,
From my Dishonour in thy Tyranny;
And, forwarding the Justice of the Gods,
Will rise against thy execrable Deeds,
Level their Thunder at thy Life and Crown,
O'erturn thy Throne, and end thee in thy Crimes.
Cleom.
'Tis possible your Story may do Harm,
And therefore I'll prevent it.
Thel.
Only Death shall silence it.
Cleom.
Death silences at last.
You see the Fortune of your present State,
That 'tis not to be mended by Complaints,
Yet you complain, and vow to be reveng'd.
If you continue obstinate, resolv'd
Not to be pacify'd, 'tis a hard Course,
But Nature does oblige me to provide
For my own Safety, and that is best secur'd
By your Eurytion's Death.
Thel.
His Death!
Cleom.
I have vow'd his Death.
Thel.
What is his Crime? I do deserve to die.
Cleom.
'Tis Crime enough to be your Husband now.
I know his Disaffection only wants
A Cause, like this, to animate the Crowd,
And his Designs against my Reign, and me:
But that he shannot have: Out of a Sense
And Tenderness of you thus far I have
Withheld my Justice, which now you enforce:
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Or doom Eurytion dead. Crites, you know,
Can bring him in my Power: This is your Choice:
Think well upon't, I will walk by awhile.
Thel.
Alas! what Choice! I have no Choice to make:
My Ruin's certain: But Eurytion!
Can I resolve his Death? he has been wrong'd
Too much already: O! I never can
Resolve his Death—there is no other Way—
Let me dissemble for a Husband's Life,
In such a Cause, in hopes of a Revenge.
Cleom.
I wait your Answer, Madam, if you have
Consider'd well, I know you will forgive.
Thel.
If I should not, it will avail me little.
Cleom.
Little indeed avail.
Thel.
Then my Revenge,
That will involve us all in other Crimes.
Cleom.
In Blood, and Murder: There must be the End.
Thel.
O fearful Sounds! I would not be the Cause
Of Murder for this Earth.
Cleom.
Then no Revenge.
Thel.
Then no Revenge indeed. But O! my Shame,
My Infamy!
Cleom.
That I'll secure you from:
And I can keep a Secret, when engag'd
By my own Interest; that's the certain Charm
Upon Mens Tongues: So you are sure of Mine.
Thel.
I wish I could believe.
Cleom.
I wish you could:
But to engage me deeper in my Trust,
I swear—
Thel.
By what?
Cleom.
I would by this fair Hand.
Thel.
Well, well, I must believe you.
Cleom.
May I hope you have forgiven me?
Thel.
Hope is in your Power.
50
Say but you have.
Thel.
Not to say otherwise, is far enough at first.
Cleom.
You mean it then?
Thel.
You may interpret for me.
Cleom.
Then I say, you have, or shou'd forgive me.
Thel.
You may find my Meaning out hereafter:
For this time I wou'd be private.
Cleom.
You will not say farewel?
Thel.
To be alone.
Cleom.
Then bid me go—
Thel.
Farewel.
Cleom.
That Farewel bids me stay: but I must go.
[exit.]
Thel.
O! what a Part am I condemn'd to act,
To save my Husband's Life! my Husband! Oh!
I have no Husband: This foul Ravisher,
This Villain, Tyrant, Author of all Ills,
Divorces me for ever from my Lord:
Has rob'd me of the Honour of a Wife:
Nor am I worthy of that Title now,
Or any Name, but—Oh! let me here
Bury that Name, and all my Miseries:
Sink down beneath the Burden of my Woes,
Into my Grave, unmention'd, and unmourn'd,
Ne'er be remembred in my Story more,
To the Dishonour of my royal House,
Or Shame of virtuous Wives.
Celona and Byzanthe to her.
Byz.
What do I hear?
Celo.
Amazement of my Senses! can this be
Thelamia on the Earth! these Sorrows hers!
Byz.
She minds you not.
Celo.
O! 'tis Celona speaks, thy tender, loving Sister.
Byz.
See, that Name raises her Head a little.
Celo.
Now thy Tears
Flow faster than before. O you good Gods!
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Nay, I intreat thee, do not smother thus
Thy Griefs with Groans, but give thy Passion Words:
They will unload the Burden of thy Heart,
If they do nothing more: Byzanthe, help,
Help me to raise her.
Thel.
O! you misemploy
Your Charity on a Wretch, whom all the Gods
Concurring in their Blessings, with your Means
To bring me comfort, never can restore
To Happiness.
Celo.
O you malicious Stars!
I thought my Fortunes might have satisfied
For our whole Family: You show'd your Pow'r
Enough in me: You might have spar'd her Peace:
But now where will you end? O! Sister, say,
Speak to me, tell me, can there be a Cause
Of this Distress?
Thel.
There is a wretched Cause:
Believe it such, and seek to know no more.
Celo.
I'll help you to support—
Thel.
The Load will sink us both.
Celo.
Then we shall fall together. Come, the Cause?
I have a Sister's Title, and a Friend's,
That wonnot be deny'd—nay, no more Tears,
But tell me.
Thel.
I can't speak—
Celo.
Away.
Thel.
To any but a Sister.
Celo.
Pray withdraw.
[Byzanthe goes out]
Now tell your Griefs, none but a Sister hears.
Thel.
And now I dare not: Oh! enquire no more:
Tho' 'tis most fit my Griefs shou'd be reveal'd,
'Tis most unfit they be reveal'd to you.
Celo.
If they relate to me, I am prepar'd,
Give 'em a Tongue.
Thel.
You'll curse it, when it speaks—Cleombrotus—
Celo.
My Husband?
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Monster of Men.
Celo.
Indeed his Practices have well deserv'd
To be thus treated: But, Thelamia, I
Have not deserv'd to hear you call him so.
If he has made you wretched, I am made
Unhappy too: If in a Husband's loss,
I've lost him too: Equal in all your Griefs.
Thel.
O! yet there is a Grief beyond all these!
A Loss, beyond my Father, Husband, Life:
You wonnot understand—
Celo.
The Gods protect the Honour of our House.
Thel.
'Tis faln in me:
I am abus'd, dishonour'd, and undone!
Celo.
O! for a Thunder-bolt, the Arm of Jove
To execute the Vengeance of my Heart
Upon the Ravisher.
Thel.
Cleombrotus.
Celo.
Again Cleombrotus! O! have a care,
This is a Subject, that concerns my Peace,
Near as my Father's Cause: Therefore no more.
I know thou hast been wrong'd, I see it plain:
The Marks of Ruin blush upon thee still:
And thy great Griefs perhaps have turn'd thy Brain:
It must be so: For thou art mad indeed,
To say Cleombrotus cou'd use thee thus.
Thel.
This only cou'd remain to make me yet
More miserable: If my Injuries
Be of that monstrous Growth above Belief,
How shall I bear 'em? But they sink me down,
And this must ease me.
[Going to stab herself.]
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O! Sister, hold!
Thel.
I said before, you were
Unfit to hear the Secret of my Fate:
Yet you would hear, and wonnot now believe.
Celo.
Wou'd I cou'd not believe: but Oh! I find
A Fear in every Thought, that makes me shake,
In Apprehension of the fatal Truth:
And now each trifling Circumstance appears
In Evidence against him: O! 'tis plain:
I had forgot I met him at the Door,
Just as I enter'd here: There needs no Proof.
Monster of Men indeed! and Tyrant now!
Here I confess the Weakness of my Sex,
Defenceless quite against a Stroak like this:
And my full Heart can only speak in Tears.
Leonidas enters to 'em.
Leon.
My Children weeping both!
This is a Sight will make me old indeed.
Speak one of you, inform me of the Cause:
Celona, Oh! it must be bad indeed
That thus can conquer thee. Thelamia, thou
Art going: O! I dare not bid thee stay,
Nor ask the Reason of thy parting thus:
But thy Disorder and Confusion show
Thee most concern'd.
[Exit. Thelamia.]
Celo.
There is no saying who
Is most concern'd: If I may judge the Cause,
I'm injur'd most, tho' 'tis a Wrong to all;
Nay, Sir, be you the Judge, but Age can't know
The Pangs of slighted Love; therefore no Judge
Of my Condition. O! to be despis'd!
Is such a Thought! it strangles Patience.
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Why this is Madness, Child.
Celo.
What! at my Years forsaken! had I been
Ugly or old, mismatcht to my Desires,
My natural Defects had taught me then,
In a tame Expectation of my Fate,
To sat me down contented: But to be
Thrown off, abandon'd, for a Sister too!
O monstrous Love indeed! that such a Sin,
As Incest could not tame.
Leon.
What say'st thou? ha!
Celo.
Thus violated, forc'd, and thus abus'd,
She stands acquitted to the judging World,
And Death, or a Revenge, redeems her Fame.
But I must stand the Shot of every Tongue,
The Censure and the Jest of laughing Fools:
Be pointed at for the forsaken thing,
Forsaken for a Sister!
Leon.
Yet again thy Sister! speak.
Celo.
O! yes, while I can speak.
Leon.
Thelamia forc'd!
Celo.
Forc'd by Cleombrotus.
Leon.
Incestuous Tyrant! Plagues of every kind,
Long studied, and stor'd up by Wrath divine,
For the Revenge, and Fate of such bad Men,
Fall thick upon his Head: But O! he sins
Beyond my Curses now, and only Hell,
All Hell can do him Justice—Had the Gods
Thought fit to exercise my Patience,
Stript me of all the Comforts of this Life,
My Friends, my Hopes, ev'n to my very self—
But here my Age gives way, here I must own
The Frailty of a Man surpriz'd, unarm'd,
Unguarded, naked to this stunning Blow,
That drives me to the Earth a weak old Man.
Celo.
O Misery on Misery!
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Away!
Tears are thy Sexes Comforts, I must find
Mine in Revenge.
Celo.
Revenge!
Leon.
Revenge for thee.
Thy Sister, and us all. O! I have been
Assisting to this Ruine: Had my Ears
Been open to the Counsels of my Friends,
This might have been undone. but it is done,
And now must be reveng'd?
Celo.
O! Sir, forbear a while.
Leon.
No time so fit for my Designs.
Celo.
But hear me.
Leon.
Passion has no Ears.
Or if I did, Words cannot alter me.
[Exit.]
Celo.
Alas! my Woman's Weakness has undone
All that my Virtue had so long preserv'd;
Now I too late perceive the Consequence:
How fatal this Discovery must be
To my Cleombrotus! for he is mine,
My Husband still, however base and false.
Tho' I am wrong'd in the most tender Part,
Most sensible of Pain, I am his Wife;
That is the Character I must maintain:
But to preserve it—something I must do,
But what, or how, the Gods yet only know.
[Exit.]
She goes out, Crites passing over the Stage.
Crit.
All that I could of Moment I have learnt;
But when the Husband follows at my Heels,
'Tis time to vanish: I have done my do
At Chamber-practice, and must shift the Scene.
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Eury.
I meet with nothing but Distraction
Thro' all the House; my Servants fly the Room
Still as I enter it, as each were loth
To be the first in some unwelcome News:
Ev'n Crites shuns me too; something there is—
I wonnot think the worst: Heav'n guard the King,
And my Thelamia: if either be concern'd,
'Twill be too soon to know, when I must know;
Till then I would not guess: But here's the King,
And half my Fears are vain.
Leonidas enters.
Leon.
The other half? who is your Fear?
Eury.
O! you may guess, my Wife.
Leon.
This is no time for Wives.
Eury.
No time, indeed, if your Employment call me.
Leon.
Then no time;
For I have Business for thee.
Eury.
Sir, speak on.
'Tho' I should starve the Youth of my Desires,
And come but old to her expecting Arms,
The bare Reflection of my Loyalty
Shall make amends for all my loss of Love.
Leon.
Have thy Reward, and hear me: thou art rash,
And must be prefac'd into Government,
And Temper of those Passions, which would rise
Against my Reasons, and undo us all.
Eury.
Sir, I am calm.
Leon.
Then know I have this Night
Resolv'd to undertake the publick Cause—
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Heav'n prosper the Resolve.
Leon.
What all my Friends
With honest, weary Counsels cou'd not gain,
The general Wrongs have forc'd.
Eury.
The general Wrongs are then our Friends—
Leon.
O! the worst Enemies to thee, and me:
Thine is the general Wrong—Thelamia—
Eury.
My Wife! what, Sir, of her?
Leon.
Are you a Man?
Eury.
Talk'd you of Wrongs, and her?
I am a Man indeed, to hear them join'd,
Yet hold my Reason still: But, Sir, be quick,
I cannot promise you, it can be long
That I shall hear you; Madness will ensue
The bare Imagination of her Wrongs,
And hurry me upon some wild Attempt,
Which my Repentance never can repair.
O! therefore tell me all.
Leon.
Then hear me all—Cleombrotus—
Eury.
Cleombrotus!
Leon.
Soon as he found
Your Absence, made his way, beyond all Sense
Of Nature, Gods, or Men, in brutal Rage,
Pursu'd Thelamia with his monstrous Love.
Eury.
My Wife!
Leon.
My Daughter, and thy virtuous Wife.
Eury.
Then she is virtuous. O! the infernal Fiend!
It went no farther? ha! it cou'd not, Sir,
For Crites was her Guard.
Leon.
He, he betray'd both her, and all:
Eury.
O Villain, bred in Hell!
Has he betray'd us? But it ended there?
O! answer the Impatience of my Fears:
They cou'd not sure proceed?
Leon.
Still more resolv'd, and bolder still—
Eury.
Where will my hurrying Fate?
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Forsaken thus of every friendly Help,
And nothing but her Virtue her Retreat,
To save her from those savage, threatning Wrongs,
She swallow'd Poison—
Eury.
O too cruel Gods!
Leon.
And so expir'd.
Eury.
'Tis too much for Life.
Eurytion seems stun'd, and dozes.
Leon.
Nay, then he is prepar'd to know the worst—
Thelamia—
Goes to the Door, and brings Thelamia in a Veil, by degrees, to the middle of the Stage.
Eury.
O! that Name!
Leon.
Come forth, my Child.
Eury.
Cou'd it awaken Death, as it does me,
My Cheeks shou'd burst with the repeated Sound:
O! how could I invoke the Rivers, Springs,
Vallies, and Hills, Dales, Rocks, and vocal Groves,
With all their splitting Echo's, to my aid?
Nay, from the stormy Quarters of the Sky,
Conjure the Winds, charm e'en the violent North,
Who, in the tempest of his boistrous Voice,
Should summon my Thelamia back again.
But, oh! the Tyrant, deaf to all my Cries,
Hears not my Summons, folds her beauteous Limbs
In his cold Arms, as he wou'd grow one piece
Of Earth with her, and I but rage in vain—
Turning, he sees her, and starts.
Have then the Gods restor'd her to my Prayers!
It must be she—O! satisfy the Fears,
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I wou'd be all convinc'd.
Leon.
She lives in Death a Life of Misery.
Eury.
Not speak to me! what! not one Look!
Leon.
O! the black Hand of Fate
Has drawn that Curtain to conceal her Wrongs—
Eury.
I find 'em now, worse than a thousand Deaths.
Leon.
But they will burst, like Lightning, from that Cloud,
And blaze a Day of Horror in revenge.
Eury.
Speed it, you Gods! tho' it be Nature's last.
Revenge her Wrongs! Here I devote my Days
To Blood, and Vengeance.
[Kneels.]
Leon.
Vengeance stays for us,
Stalking impatient thro' our frighted Streets,
Our Friends united too, to push it on.
Eury.
She's going.
Leon.
O! thou Captain of our Cause!
We follow thee thro' all the Paths of Death.
Eury.
The Sword from thy foul Wrongs shall never part,
Till stab'd, and bury'd in the Tyrant's Heart.
[Exeunt.]
| The Spartan Dame | |