University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

[The Tent of Achilles.
Achilles and Briseis meeting.
Br.
Joy to Achilles—fly to my embrace
My Hero and my God.
Henceforth no more let any sound of War.
Awake thy rage—My Eyes shall conquer for thee.
Joy to Achilles—Agamemnon dyes,
Chruseis in despair has left the Camp,
Briseis is return'd triumphant back,
Thy Foes are perishing, thy Mistress safe,
I bring thee Glory and Revenge and Love;
Joy to Achilles, everlasting Joy!

Ach.
And is it given me thus agen to hold thee,
Thus to devour thee with a Thousand Kisses
With clasping Arms, embracing and embrac'd
To tast a Thousand Joys—O 'tis illusion all!
The Dream and Vision of distracted thought!
Speak shining Creature, every sense awakes
To find thee out—Art thou indeed Briseis?

Br.
I am, I am Briseis—Believe thy Eyes,
Believe thy touch—No Vision nor a Dream,
But thy Briseis—thine.
I thank you Gods! tho' parting was a pain,
The joy to meet, is ample satisfaction.

Ach.
Art thou the same? In every thing the same?
Answer me that—Ah No!
The stain of violation is upon thee
The ruddy spot, fresh ardent on thy Face.
Curse on that thought!—
Was then the Ravisher so quickly cloy'd?
So hasty to return Pollution back?
Did'st thou resist? Or did'st thou early yield?
Answer agen to that—thus let me Swear thee,
Thus holding up thy hands erect to Heaven:
Met'st thou with willing warmth his brutal lust?
Had'st thou thy share of Bliss? with amourous rage
Improving Joy with Art?—But why do I enquire?
Thy Cheeks are burning with th'Adulterer's mark,
His Print is on thy lips: Thy melted Eyes
Yet glow with languisht luster—Hell and Furies!

Br.
Curse me if I forgive thee such a thought;
Were I like other Women, I should weep
To be thus grosly question'd—But my Soul.
Is form'd of sparks, as fiery as thy own.
Thus I confront thy Jealousie with rage,
And meet thy insolence, with wrath as loud.
Thou know'st me, and hast read my inmost Mind,
If after this, thou yet canst have a doubt
If thou canst tell thy self—I can be false,
Thou art not worth my Answer.—

Ach.
I knew thou would'st deny: All Women will.
What have we for your truth, but your bare words?
The subtle path is trodden without print,
Not the least footstep to be trac't for proof.
But willing or unwilling, 'tis the same:
He has enjoy'd you.—

Br.
No matter if he has—I'll tell thee nothing.

Ach.
O that thou wert a Man?

Br.
O That I were! By Venus I'de chastise thee—
Why was I not a Man? A greater far
Had then been born, and fiercer than Achilles.

Ach.
Answer directly—or by Mars—

Br.
By Mars I swear, and by as many Gods
That nothing will I Answer—Not till I see thee
Croucht on the ground, and crawling on thy knees
Implore forgiveness, for thy vile suspicion.
Guess at the past; I'll tell thee what's to come,
If he has not enjoy'd, be sure, he shall:
Who without reason doubts, deserves that Vengeance,
No Woman is without it—I go, to reap
This fruit of thy offence—And so farewell

[going.
Ach.
Be true or false—Thou art too much to lose,
Nor shalt thou go—
[holds her.
Thy fiery Rage, has spread around my Soul
And Love has caught the flame—
Be what thou wilt—Art thou not heavenly Fair?
Thy Beauty, in this moment's, all my care,
Nothing is certain, but the Joy alone,
Whil'st I possess, I'm sure thou art my own.

[Exeunt.
The Scene changes to Agamemnon's Pavillion. Trumpets sound without. Enter Agamemnon leading Chruseis. Nestor and Ulysses enter from the opposite part of the Stage.
Nes.
[To Agam.]
O stain of Honour! Oh inglorious Prince!
Unworthy Leader of so many Kings,
Have then thy Crimes dispirited thy Soul
That here aloof, thou hid'st thee in thy Tent
When the rang'd Battle calls thee forth to Fight?
But guilt makes Cowards: who with such a load
Of Impious Lust, and willful Perjury
Can Face a Foe, or venture into Danger?

Ag.
If I am guilty 'tis the Fault of Heaven,
That by exacting more than Man can do
Becomes it self unjust—My deeds to day
Shall shame thy words, when thou behold'st me fight.
'Tis peace at Home, my anger'd Love's appeas'd,
And I am ready now for War—The stoutest Hearts
Shall trembling beat, to follow where I lead.

Nes.
Appease the Gods, no matter who beside
Is angry, or displeas'd.

Ag.
Chruseis is appeas'd, nor cares Atrides
Who frowns, when she is kind—One kiss my Love;
The Trumpets call, the Soldier must obey:
These Trojans shall repent e're night, who force
Thy Agamemnon from thy gentle Arms.
And vex our Loves, with such unquiet partings.

Chru.
Yet e'er you go, hear your Chruseis speak:
The Gods alone can tell, who shall return
Of those that go to Battle: Hear me then:
And I am glad to have such Witnesses.

To Nest. and Ulys.]
Ag.
What would Chruseis say?

Chru.
The danger's terrible that calls you forth,
Who knows but this may be our last Farewel.
Thus then upon my knees, I thank my Lord
For his past goodness—Oh! inspire me Heaven
How to be grateful, and instruct my Soul
How I may give my King, some mark of Love
Equal to his to me.

Ag.
Rise, Rise Chruseis.
This needs not, Love; for I am much thy debtor.

Chru.
No. I will tell, that summing up th' Acccount
My grateful heart, may reckon its vast debt.
All that I am, may Honour and Life,
I hold but from your bounty.
In a sackt Town, when the licentious Soldier
Spares neither Age, nor Sex: When Slaughters blind
And rages thro' the Streets without distinction;
When Rape is priviledg'd, and Murder free,
You sav'd me from the Fury of the Sword,
You sav'd me from Pollution, rais'd me trembling,
Bad me not fear, and bore me safe from danger.
Nor was this all.—

Ag.
Enough, Enough Chruseis.
You ow'd your Preservation to your self,
Your Beauty was your Guard—what barbarous heart,
O what inhumane hand, could hurt such brightness?

Chru.
My fears renew'd, when Captives set to Sale,
I heard the loud laments of weeping Virgins,
Expos'd to price, and sold to Slavery.
No Royalty nor Beauty was exempt,
But only serv'd to raise the Purchase higher.
Then did my King a second time preserve me,
And set me above Price.

Ag.
And well thou did'st deserve it, my Chruseis.
Not Jove who has the Power of either Globe,
Can say what thou art worth.

Chru.
Beyond my Hopes, unaskt, and unexpecting
Life, Liberty, and Honour you preserv'd,
And undeserving added to my wishes
What more than Life, or Liberty I prize,
Your Love: And tho' you had the Power to force
Your Captives will with surest Violence,
You left me free, t'accept or to refuse,
But who could have refus'd?

Ag.
Thou never wer't my Captive: I was thine
From the first moment that my Eye beheld thee:
I overcame thy Country, but thou me:
What I have done, I did but as a Slave,
The Service of the Conquer'd to the Conqueror,
Mercy was thine, and only thine: My Part
Was but the Duty of a Lover.

Chru.
With patience hear, for nothing will I add,
Nor take from Truth; but state a just account.
My Country lost, when by the right of War,
Nothing was left, that we could call our own,
You profer'd Crowns, would raise me to your Empire:
Your generous Love, agreeing with my Vertue,
Offer'd no terms, that I could blush to hear.

Ag.
What trifling Merchandize are Crowns and Kingdoms
Compar'd to thee—How shall I thank thy goodness
Who would'st accept? Oh! could I give the World,
One kiss of thine, but thus to touch thy Lips,
I were a gainer, by the vast exchange.

Chru.
The kiss you take, is paid by that you give,
The Joy is mutual, and I'm still in debt.
O there's a mighty summ that's yet untold:
To shorten then, and pass a thousand proofs,
All precious, but too numberless to name:
Now when the Gods, grown envious of our Joys,
The Gods that will admit in humane Life
No Raptures like their own, and such were ours,
Now when they turn our Blessings to a Curse,
When every kiss you take, must loose a Battle,
And thousands are Condemn'd, for each Embrace,
When Empire, Victory, and O perhaps
Your precious Life, must all be Sacrific'd
Or your Chruseis left, Then, then my King
When his Friends weep, and unrelenting Gods
Threaten aloud, when Earth and Heaven combine
To part our Loves, and sunder us for ever,
Then Agamemnon constant to his Vows
Renounces Glory, to be true to Love,
And death and shame, prefers with his Chruseis,
To Life, to Conquest and Renown, without her.
O what amends, Ah! how shall I repay
Thy wondrous Truth?

Ag.
Thus my Chruseis, thus—
Embrace me close, and joyn thy Lips to mine:
There's no security in other Joys,
Here happiness is riveted alone,
Here nothing fades, nothing decays; the sweets
Immortal are, and never cease to spring.

Chru.
So loving, and so lov'd, why must we part?

Ag.
Part my Chruseis! 'Tis unkindly fear'd:
I thought thou had'st been satisfy'd, my Love,
No, I can dye, but we will never part.

Chru.
And yet we must: Oh! we must part, Atrides.
There's no defence against the Will of Jove,
No Force can turn, or Policy evade
What Destiny decrees immutable:
Nothing can be, that Fate has doom'd shall not.

Ag.
What means my Love, by these mysterious Words?

Chru.
As one who fears to dye, but is condemn'd,
Still strives to trifle time with idle talk,
And seeks pretences to put off the hour,
So I—But what am I resolving?
As I approach the Precipice's brink
So steep, so terrible appears the depth,
I fear—And yet I must—Who says I must?
Not Agamemnon—He had rather dye,
So had Chruseis: Parting is worse than death
To both—and will to both bring death—
If he must dye, then let him dye embrac'd
As he desires—Now shoot your Lightning Gods!
Whil'st thus I hide him, hit him if you can,
Thus clinging with my Body close to his,
Thus will I cover him—kill me, kill me,
I'll dye to keep him safe—Oh Agamemnon!

Ag.
There is a strange disorder in thy Thoughts,
Something thou would'st unfold, and know'st not how:
My Soul has caught thy Fears, I tremble too
I know not why—'Tis the first time that e'er
My Courage fail'd me in thy Arms.
Some mighty ill, and sudden sure is coming,
And let it come—Spare but my Love ye Gods
All other ills are nothing.

Chru.
My Head grows giddy—Oh that I were Mad:
Madness brings ease: Reason, Reason alone
Feels Sorrow: Folly and Madness are exempt.
No State of humane Life is to be envy'd,
But Lunacy and Folly: None can be happy
Who can feel Pain: To want the Sense to Grieve
Is the best measure of Felicity,
So much are we the Slaves of humane Chance,
And from the Moment of our Births expos'd
To the malignant influence of Stars.

[She stands weeping.
Nes.
This is meer Foolery—Sir will you go?

Enter Talthybius and Eurybates.
Eury.
Where, where's the King?

Ag.
What would thy hast portend?

Eury.
To Arms, to Arms: The Trojans led by Mars
With Hector by his side, surround our Camp;
Who never durst beyond the Scæan Gate
Till now advance, enclose our Trenches round:
We who Besieg'd, are now our selves Besieg'd.

Ag.
Be short: Speak to the purpose: What has past?

Talth.
Divine Sarpedon, Son of Thundering Jove
Began th' Attack: Patroclus stood the Charge,
And slew him with his Spear, Jove looking on.

Eury.
Then fell Patroclus, Slain by Hector's Hand—

Ulys.
Patroclus Slain?

Ag.
He has not left
'Mong all the Greeks, a braver Man behind him.

Nes.
How just is Providence in all its Works!
How swift to overtake us in our Crimes!
Achilles who alone, of all the Greeks
Rejoyc't to day, becomes the deepest Mourner:
None are so hateful to the Gods as those
Who with hard hearts, delight in other's Grief.

Ulys.
'Twere fit his Body were convey'd with speed
To stern Achilles; who sits laughing now,
Waiting the Greeks distress; The sight may move
Revenge, and bring him to the Field.

Ag.
I scorn his little Aid—Talthybius say
What's now a doing?

Talth.
The Trojans are agen drawn off, pausing
Upon their loss; but seem to meditate
Some new Attempt: And all expect
A bloody day.

Ag.
Thou shalt not dye, Patroclus, unreveng'd.
Bid our Battallions draw upon the Plain;
We'll Fight 'em hand to hand, upon the square,
Let Cowards skulk in Trenches, Face to Face
I meet my Foe—Thus I invoke you, Gods,
Asking but this, no more—Stand Neuter.
'Tis time that we were gone—Hast with our Orders.
[Exeunt Talthybius and Eurybates.
[To Chruseis]
It shakes my very Soul, my poor dear Love,
To leave thee thus—I go, but to return
Victorious back.
Thus we have parted oft, and met agen,
Much thou would'st grieve; but in this manner never.

[Chru.]
Yes we have parted, and agen we met,
When next we part, 'tis never to meet more.
I am your Murderer by my fatal stay,
For me, the sullen Sun withholds his beams,
And shoots these Shafts, and heads 'em all with Plagues:
For me, the Gods withdraw their wonted aids,
For me, they lead the Trojans to the Field,
Shall I consent? And shall I help the Foes
Of Agamemnon? I obstruct the means
Of his deliverance? Will then my Love
Do nothing for my Lord, who would do all
For me? No Agamemnon, no—
For me you must not dye, nor be disgrac't,
Live Agamemnon, live: Be great, be glorious,
While by a voluntary Exile, I
Appease my cruel Father, and his Gods,
And doom my self to save thy Life and Honour.

Ulys.
Oh unexpected turn! O wondrous Virtue!
Glorious resolution! henceforth be styl'd
The Saviour of the Greeks.

Ag.
Peace Sycophant, nor dare to sooth her phrensie:
These thoughts are but the vapours of a Mind
Disturb'd: Reason shall soon dispel the fume,
And disappoint your curst malicious Joy.
[To Chru.]
I know thou can'st not mean, what thou hast said
Yet my Heart pants, and every Nerve is shaken.
Upon my Forehead sits a damp like death,
My Blood runs cold, I feel the Channel freeze,
Scarce will my trembling Limbs, support my Weight,
But shake like Cowards on a day of Battle.
Is this well done Chruseis?

Chru.
Your generous Love, has show'd the way to mine,
Fearing to part, you firmly chuse your Ruin,
Fearing your Ruin, I consent to part:
To part, of every evil is the worst,
All other ills you chuse, but I chuse that,
Love prompting you, to perish for my sake,
Prompts me to keep you safe, whate'er it cost;
Empire and Life, and Glory, are your Victims,
The Joys of Life, and Love it self are mine.

Nes.
Well argu'd still: Pray Heaven she be in earnest.

Ag.
Thy Love is grown a wondrous Sophister:
Such Arguments but ill become thy Faith:
Can'st thou pretend to love me, and yet leave?
No, 'tis impossible in love, to part
With what we love: Confess, confess the truth,
And say thou dost not love; own, own thy Falshood,
Racant thy Vows, or yet resolve to stay.

Chru.
Yes I would stay, were I the only threaten'd,
Were the doom mine, and did the Thunder rowl,
And the blew Lightning shoot alone at me,
I'de chuse to dye like thee, and not to part,
In these dear Arms, I'de wait the stroke of Jove
And perish pleas'd; like thine should be my choice.
For thee, for thee, this Ruin is prepar'd,
Not on my Head, but thine, the Vengeance falls,
And for my sake, my Presence is the cause,
Chruseis is the Murderer of Atrides,
The Cup of Pleasure, is the Bowl of Death,
The Gods have mixt it with the deadliest Poyson,
Nor dare I give thee more.

Ag.
O give it on;
There is such pleasure in the killing draught
'Tis worth the dying for.

Chru.
Be calm, be calm Atrides, think agen,
Consult your reason, and be then convinc'd,
Were your Case mine, you would resolve like me,
You would, you would, you could not see me perish,
And know your self the cause.

Ag.
O Chruseis.

Chru.
Is there a proof in love that you would give
And shall not I? Oh! 'tis a cruel proof,
But it must be, 'tis past, 'tis past recal.
Come back, come back Renown that turn'd away,
Return ye Lawrels, to my Monarch's brow,
Love like a scorching Sun has dry'd ye up,
And burnt your growth, and kist away your sweets,
But Love is now self banisht for your sakes,
With his own hand he cuts his root away,
And leaves you room to spread.

Ag.
O curst estate of Kings! O fatal Glory!
O Victory's dear-bought! Pernicious Greatness!
What must I loose to purchase the vain breath
Of Fools and Sycophants, the Voice of fame!
Oh! what a Jewel must be thrown away
To get a bawble! what substantial pleasures,
How many hours of Love and of content
Are lost and sacrific'd for sensless trifles!
All Heroes are but Lunaticks mis-call'd
That cheat themselves, and part with all that's precious
For Toys and Gew-Gawes.

Chru.
The Gods have for themselves alone reserv'd
A quiet state: Kings are their Stewards here
Entrusted with the Conduct of the World:
And like good careful servants, must submit
Their single profit, to the general well-fare.
Had Agamemnon been a private Man,
Some Shepherd, or an humble Villager,
Our Loves had then been happy.

Ag.
Take back your Office, Gods, Your Royal Thraldom;
I'll be your Slave, no longer on these terms:
Here I discharge my self of Kingly burthen,
Divest my self of Power and Dignities,
Of Crowns and Scepters, your Imperial Loads.
Be constant to thy Word—Thy Agamemnon
Will make himself the thing that thou hast wisht,
A Shepherd, or an humble Villager:
In some far Cave, remote from interruption,
We'll love away our lives; Not the least Dream
Of Glory, shall invade our lone Recess.
These Arms shall be the Circle of my Wishes,
Thy Eyes, the only Lights that I'll adore:
Morning and Night, I'll sacrifice to them,
Be they propitious, let them shine upon me,
I'll own no other Gods.

Chru.
[Trumpets within.

Ag.
Thus will I clasp thee fast, Thus, thus for ever.
In vain, In vain thou'lt struggle to get loose,
Not Men nor Gods shall cut thee from my Arms,
I'll dye, but I will never quit my hold.

Chru.
Thus let us kneel: Thus lockt in my Embrace,
Whil'st I implore the Gods, with this last Pray'r.
Oh all ye Powers! that unrelenting see
These Griefs, and have deny'd our loves your mercy,
Accept the sacrifice that here I make,
The noblest Love, the truest: undefil'd
With the least stain. If ought is due to Virtue
Let the reward of what I do, be his,
And let not me out-live this fatal day.
Depriv'd of Love, upon his precious head
Double all other blessings: Crown his Life
With honours equal to his noble mind,
Let him not pass a day without some triumph,
Let him not have a Foe in Earth or Heaven,
Or if he must have Foes, make e'm his means
Only to come at Glory—Please his Nights and Days
With something new, and every hour be blest,
That the remembrance of his lost Chruseis
May sit more light upon his heart—One kiss,
And then no more, Oh Agamemnon 'tis the last,
Farewell for ever—His Lips are cold,
Speechless and Pale! And on my bosom droops
His Head like a dead weight—Help Princes help
And raise him gently—
[They raise him: He stands supported between 'em: they weeping over him.
O can I see him thus—
And leave him—Yes I must, for should he speak
I could not stir, his Words would root me here.
My Brain is toucht—I feel it—here it is—
At this dead-lift, thou'rt welcome honest Frenzy;
The King shall conquer now, he shall, he shall,
Right shall triumph, the Ravisher shall bleed,
I'll be the Champion, and begin the charge,
Thus at one stroke, I cut off all the Gods,
And leave the Trojans, helpless to themselves,
They run, they run—O cruel Reason, worst of Foes,
Why art thou come agen?
O Nestor! Oh Ulysses! pity me,
Forgive the ills that have already happen'd,
All will be well, the Gods are now appeas'd.
Fight for the King, and when the Battles join,
Do you, your duty, as I have done mine.
[Exit Chruseis.

Ulys.
Scarce was my aking heart, more pierc'd with grief
When from my own Penelope I parted.

[Ag. coming to himself.
The Gods have doom'd in vain, They shall not have her.
Where is Chruseis?

Uly.
Her noble Virtue has obey'd
The cruel call of strong necessity,
And she who would have dy'd to stay, is gone
That you may live.

Ag.
Thou hast done this Ulysses, 'twas thy Plot,
Thou hast been working long against our loves
Thy Life shall answer it—

Uly.
O rob her not of Glories all her own,
Be hers the praise entire, as was the deed.
I hate my self for that I injur'd once
So good, such noble nature—O she is
And to all Ages shall remain
The brightest Pattern of Heroick Love
And perfect Virtue, that the World e're knew.

Nest.
Trust me Atrides, much I grieve your loss,
But Glory waits, to make you full amends.

Ag.
Thus then I draw—Blood shall be shed for tears:
Where Death is to be found, there let me go,
Who gives it, is my Friend, and not my Foe,
Unite, unite ye Dardans and ye Gods,
Despair's undaunted, and defies all Odds,
Arme let every Spear and Javelin fly,
I Fight not now to conquer, but to dye.
[Exit Agamemnon.

[Flourish of Trumpets.
Nes.
Mark, mark Ulysses, how the Gods preserve
The Men they love, even in their own despight;
They guide us, and we Travell in the Dark,
But when we most despair to hit the way
And least expect, we find ourselves arriv'd.

Uly.
Fate holds the strings, and Men like Children, move
But as they'r led: Success is from above.