University of Virginia Library

ACT. II.

SCENE I.

Zimon, and Tryphon.
Zimon.
An awful Dread, a Parent's fond Compassion
Contend within me— and this midnight Dream—

Tryphon.
No airy Dream of Chance! not vainly bred
Of midnight Vapours, and unkind Repose;
But with Lustrations sought, and Sacrifice!
Presented at the Time when no false Dream
Deludes the Sense; in the last Watch of Night,
While on the Victims Skins I slept before the Altar.
The Priests, who in the outward Temple held
Their solemn Vigils, say the Pavement shook,
The Altars groan'd, and strange amazing Sounds
The while re-echo'd thro' the vaulted Dome—
The dreadful Interdiction too resounds
Still in my Ears, like the low, murm'ring Noise
Of distant Thunder.

Zimon.
And will Heav'n divide
A Pair which Nature seems herself to join?
A Pair whose Loves have from their Childhood grown,
And strengthen'd with 'em?

Tryphon.
Yet the Gods are just!—
Let us consider well of this Design,
E'en from its Birth. Now twice the full-orb'd Moon
Has wasted, since our first Attempt was made;
And now the third sends forth its Influence,
Propitious held to Hymen's Votaries.
Think, when the first appointed Day was come,
And the young Pair before the Altar plac'd,
How suddenly the Sun withdrew his Beams,
And vail'd him from the Sight, while Night in Clouds
Seem'd to return in haste upon the Morn.
How Jove from forth the wat'ry Stores of Heaven
Pour'd down a second Deluge on our Heads;
Nor ceas'd his livid shafts of sulph'rous Flame,
Nor ceas'd his dreaded Voice 'till we retir'd!

Zimon.
The Day was horrible!

Tryphon.
Again the Moon
Grew to her highest Pride: fondly again
Thou did'st presume! for what, alas, avail'd
Thy Hecatomb, and pompous Sacrifice?
Think how unwillingly the Victims fell;
How they were dragg'd into the holy Place.
How, when the Intrails were explor'd, in one
The Heart was sought in vain, and from the next
A stench of foul Corruption issued forth:
How from the sacred Altar, Clouds of Smoak,
Black as Tartarean Vapours, roul'd around,
And hung like Night upon us: nor aspir'd
The Flame towards Heav'n; but, dividing, seem'd
To steal, as in Disdain, from what it fed on.
Rank was the Incense, and the holy Wine
Imbitter'd as with Gall: with these compare
What now has happen'd. Urge not Heav'n too far!
But rather thank th' indulgent Pow'rs, who deign
To lighten up our dark, uncertain Ways.
Heaven, the tender Parent of Mankind,
At first informs us gently, and in Smiles;
But with an heavy Hand Correction comes,
If we neglect the kind Admonisher.

Zimon.
May not repeated Sacrifice avail?
Not the pure Vows of the unspotted Maid?

Tryphon.
Then know'st thou not, that tho' all Heav'n combine,
To turn the steady Course of Fate, 'twere vain?
—Yet when I reason with my self, 'tis strange,
[After a Pause.
That you, my Lord, who are the very Head,
Or, as it were, the Helm of this Design,
Shou'd find no private Information;
(As oft it happens on the like Occasions)
Nor yet are self-instructed from above;
Nor from within, by Doubts, Misgivings, Fears,
Involuntary Motions, such as seem
Impos'd upon the Sense; nor from without,
By Objects, or confirming Accidents.

Zimon.
Now, Tryphon, thou awak'st my Memory,
Which Age, and a long Care for Athens' Good
Have worn to frequent Slumbers. Some Days since,
As thro' the solemn Cloifter of the Temple,
And round its hallow'd Grove, where awful Shade
And Silence teach us Adoration,
All bent on Heav'n, I took my wonted Way;
A sudden strange Emotion fir'd my Soul;
I grew enlighten'd, and the Book of Fate,
Methought, was opening to my Mind: When, lo!
Forth from the Thicket rush'd a monstrous Boar,
The Terror, and the Tyrant of his Kind,
In Horror, and in Size surpassing far
All that our Attic Mountains yet have bred.
He stop'd! e'en in my Path he stop'd!—I paus'd!
He glar'd awhile, and, foaming, as in Rage,
With hideous Yells betook him to the Forest.

Tryphon.
How? glar'd he on thee?

Zimon.
With an Eye of Death
As tho' we had encounter'd in the Chase,
And with my Spear I had fix'd him to the Earth!

Tryphon.
And came he on the Left, my Lord?

Zimon.
He did.

Tryphon.
O, how industrious are the pitying Pow'rs,
To guide aright the wand'ring Steps of Man!
Think! has ought else occur'd?—

Zimon.
The other Morn,
[After a short Pause.
As tow'rds the East I bow'd my self to Heaven,
Begging Success on this our Enterprize,
A lonely Turtle on the Left I spy'd.

Tryphon.
The social Bird of Venus, and alone?
This boads a Separation? or by Death,
Or what is worse than Death, Domestic Jarrs.
Far off be all such Strife from Zimon's Walls!

Zimon.
I know thou lov'st me, know thou fear'st the Gods!

Tryphon.
So fearing, I obey their Heav'nly Wills.

Zimon.
'Tis plain thou dost—but oh, ye awful Pow'rs!
How to the tender Maid may I make known
Your harsh Resolves? how tear her from his Armes?
Oh, 'twill be worse than Death! a Love so true!
So deep ingrafted in each other's Heart!
Oft have I mark'd with Joy their growing Passion,
And thought 'twas happy! first in Infant Smiles
It broke, and strengthen'd into Sighs from thence;
Sighs almost made in Ignorance of their Cause:
At length Maturity awakes Desire;
They Hope, they Fear; they Vow, and call it Love.
And now to part! in reach of either's Arms!
Cut off, divided at their Noon of Hope!

Tryphon.
Alas 'tis hard! but Sense of Duty sure
Will mitigate the Pain. Hesione
Knows what is due to Heav'n, and to her Sire:
Early you painted to her tender Mind
The Monster Vice in all its ugly Forms;
The flow'ry Paths of Virtue next you drew,
And peaceful Innocence: she was all Ear:
Her happy Disposition met you Care,
And half prevented your Instruction.

Zimon.
True, my good Tryphon! but so great a Tryal!
So difficult a Task for Patience!
Tho' nurs'd amidst the Horrors of the Field,
Bred in Alarms, and intimate with Danger,
I'm not so ste el'd against Compassion,
That I conceive not what such Lovers feel
At such a Separation: nor has Age
So sower'd my Nature, that I wish not Youth
Its innocent Desires—nor can'st thou feel
A Father's Tenderness.

Tryphon.
A Father's Love
Shines clearest in the Duty of a Father!
Shall Man, shall narrow-sighted Man declare,
This is my certain Path to Happiness?
Here will I tread? but that I'll surely shun;
For Danger, Care, and Pain are ambush'd there?
When even then the kind, indulgent Pow'rs
Expose the wildness of his fond Desires,
And Thunder loudly tells him, he is wrong?
—Then let all-knowing Fate provide no more!

Zimon.
Mistake me not! I am not all subdu'd:
The Will of Heav'n is fervent at my Heart!
Had yet th' all-equal Pow'rs been more severe,
And to their Altars doom'd the spotless Maid;
Destin'd her Virgin Blood a Sacrifice
To the sad Manes of th' unburied Foes
This Arm has slain—shou'd I with-hold my Child?
Nay more was this her Parent's Sword decreed
Death's sacred Instrument—shou'd I yet pause?
Withdraw my Hand, and spare the beauteous Victim?

Tryphon.
No! in Compassion thou wou'dst Sacrifice!
Nor meant I ought to thee: but there are some,
Shou'd even the Guardian Goddess of our State
Minerva's self from her high Heav'n descend,
And in th' Athenian Streets declare her Will,
Yet some, I fear, there wou'd be found, to close
Their impious Ears against her loud Commands!

Zimon.
If any such there be, forgive 'em Heav'n!

Tryphon.
Heav'n is forgot! our Altars are grown cold!

Zimon.
Behold my Daughter! Joy, and Innocence
Bloom in her Face. Alas Hesione,
Thou know'st not yet how near thou art to Pain!
That the rich Robe, gay Hymen's Livery,
Which, foil'd by thy own Lustre, fades upon thee,
Now only serves to decorate thy Sorrows.

SCENE II.

Enter Hesione to Zimon, and Tryhon.
Welcome; O welcome to thy Father's Arms!
[Embracing her.
Pledge of my youthful Love! thou fairest Flow'r,
Which with a Planter's Care I still have guarded,
Cherish'd, defended from invading Storms,
That when my Winter shou'd draw on, when Age
Shou'd sadden all things to me, thou alone
Might'st bloom, and flourish in my faded Eyes,
And smooth the last, sad, rugged Stage of Life.
—O may'st thou yet, yet answer all my Hope!

Hesione.
Doubt you Hesione, whose grateful Heart
Ne'er knew a Wish, that came not first from yours?

Zimon.
O, gaze not on me thus! but rather turn,
And hide thee from me—Oh, Hesione!
Say from thy Soul, hast thou not ever found me
Kind to thy Will, and yielding to thy Pray'rs?

Hesione.
Ever! and a whole Life of duteous Love
Will poorly recompence your tender Care.

Zimon.
Can'st thou be rigid in Obedience?

Hesione.
Duty, and Love stand ready to perform,
Whate'er my Father's Justice can command.

Tryphon.
You think the Gods are just, Hesione?

Hesione.
Let all my Actions testify I do.

Tryphon.
Heav'n grant they may!

Hesione.
Then I am doubtful still.
Say, my lov'd Father, I conjure you say,
Whence are these Sighs? why heaves your gen'rous Breast?

Zimon.
Think! canst thou bear the Storms of angry Fate?
Canst thou thy self subdue? and hast thou learnt
Of Patience ought besides its empty Name?

Hesione.
With you the worst of Fates I cou'd endure!
Shou'd it please Heav'n, at once to pull us down
Even unto the last of Miseries!
That Bondage, Sickness, Poverty, and Shame
Might seize upon us all, your Name, and House
Expung'd for ever from the Book of Fame!
E'en then Omphales, and Hesione
Cou'd least forsake you. All the weary Day,
Tho' threaten'd, scorn'd, we'd beg for your Support;
All Night by turns secure you in your Sleep,
And with our wretched Weeds from the cold Dews
Defend your reverend Head.

Zimon.
Excellent Creature!—
Thou art alas! too tender for thy Fate.
[Aside.
Tell me, Hesione, when thou hast heard
Some moving Tale of unsuccessful Love,
Some sad, disastrous Story, full of Woe,
Of tedious Absence, Pain, and Sufferance;
When, thro' a strange variety of Ills,
The constant Pair have met, have even reach'd
Each others Arms, and then some angry God
Has sever'd 'em for ever! say, my Child,
When thou hast heard a moving Tale like this,
How has thy Heart endur'd it?

Hesione.
Oh, my Father!
Whence are these Words? why urge you this to me?
—Where is Omphales?

SCENE III.

Enter Omphales and Ammon, to Zimon, Tryphon, and Hesione.
Omphales.
See the happy Man!
Call'd by that Voice, were I an Age intomb'd,
Methinks, I e'en might force the Grave itself,
And struggle thro' the Arms of Death to meet thee!
[Embracing her.
Here every Fear is lost! this is the Hour
The Hour of Joy, and Heaven crowns our Wishes!
Thus let this happy Day begin with Blessings.
[Kneeling with Hesione, to Zimon, who turns from'em.
Hah! why this Silence, and these signs of Mourning?
Are these our Nuptials?—Oh, Hesione!
[Rising.
E'en on this Day shall we converse in Sighs,
The sad Intelligence of hopeless Lovers?—
Oh, answer me! nor turn thy Face in Sorrow

Hesione.
Learn there the Cause! a Tale too sad, I fear,
He labours to unsold.

[Pointing to Zimon.
Zimon.
Fain wou'd I speak
Of Joy, and Comfort to your troubled Souls!

Omphales.
Whate'er your heavy Story is, at once
Declare it: For my Soul had rather prove
One certain Evil, than imagine all.

Zimon.
Imagine what you least cou'd wish to hear.

Omphales.
Ha! how is this!—By Heav'ns it must be so!
It strikes at us, Hesione!—O, arm,
Arm thee with Patience, my prophetic Soul!
A third Delay!—how long must I endure?—
Thou honour'd Parent of Hesione!
I see thy gen'rous Breast is troubled for me,
Doubt not my Patience: I'm enur'd to suffer!
[Pointing to Hesione.
If yet the Gods wou'd prove my Constancy,
If it concerns thy Peace, that we again
Defer our promis'd Bliss, proclaim it now!
Name but the certain Time, th' appointed Day
When we shall meet in Joy, and tho' till then
Each Hour is loaded with an Age's Care;
Tho' no pale, lonely Ghost, deny'd its Rest,
Shall wish to wander out its Term so fast.
Yet point me out that Day! and mark how well
I've learnt to suffer for Hesione!

Zimon.
Oh, Nature!—oh, ye Gods!—how am I torn?
Tryphon, declare the Will of Heav'n, while I
Withdraw, and mourn their hapless Destiny.

[Going off.
Omphales.
Now, by the Gods, if 'tis of so much Weight,
I'll learn it from no Tongue but thine!

Zimon.
Know then—
(But arm your Hearts; for you have much t'endure)
Know you can never meet in nuptial Joy!

Omphales.
Never!

Hesione.
Avert it Heav'n!

Omphales.
By all our Sufferance,
They are unequal Gods that tell thee this!

Zimon.
Rash Youth, beware! let me not hear the Pow'rs
Revil'd in thy fantastic Passions!
By their blest Mansions! by their awful Thunder!
If in the face of Heav'n thou fling'st thy Slanders,
Wert thou the dearest Issue of these Loins,
I wou'd be first to practise Vengeance on thee!
—Unequal Gods!

Ammon.
Heavens! that these shou'd part!
This wou'd not be believ'd in Athens.

Tryphon.
Learn t'endure!—
[To Omphales: who is fix'd in Astonishment, and in an Agony of Passion.
Nor urge his Wrath!—wast thou not in the Field,
When at the Army's Head, an impious Foe
Traduc'd the Gods of Greece, while he inrag'd,
Rush'd forth, and pierc'd the proud Blasphemer's Heart?

Omphales.
Never! oh, never! not a distant Hope
To rest my Sorrows on! to turn away
Despair, and Frenzy, from my tortur'd Soul!

Hesione.
O think, my Father, think 'twas you who first,
Approving blew the kindling Flame of Love!
Early you taught me to receive his Vows,
And form'd my tender Heart for him alone.
Why did you paint him Noble, Gen'rous, Brave,
Perfection all, as you wou'd have describ'd
Some Offspring of the Gods? why all this Care
To train me up to Sorrow? rather why
Distant as Pole from Pole were we not plac'd;
Or told 'twas Death to gaze? O, yet recall,
Recall thy Words, and save us from Despair!

Zimon.
Daughter, trust Heaven with your Happiness!
You'll find the Gods are just.

Omphales.
Wou'd Man was so!
[Recovering from his Astonishment.
Now, by our glorious House! by the great Names,
And happy Souls of my brave Ancestors,
This matter wears a Face of Treachery!
'Tis all Deceit! an impious Artifice!
A studied Plot! a poor Conspiracy
T'illude my Hopes, evade the promis'd Rites,
And cheat me of my Love! by Heav'ns no more!

Zimon.
Know, when thou wou'dst be busy with my Honour,
Thou aim'st at what e'en Envy cannot reach!

Omphales.
Say, hast thou found a Youth who loves her more?
If so best prove him, and it shall be found,
Who dares deserve her most! or haply Avarice,
The Curse, and cold Disease of Age has seiz'd thee,
And it repents thee of the proffer'd Dow'r:
Take then thy Off'rings back, and with them all
E'er Fortune gave me—Oh, Hesione!
We cannot pay too dear for one another!
Banish me to some desert Isle remote,
Where Int'rest, or Ambition never led
Inquiring Man, where yet no Path is worn;
But all things rude as at the Birth of Nature:
Contented there with her cou'd I sit down,
There build the Nuptial Bed, wear out Life's Date,
And in those Arms forget there is a World!

Hesione.
But, oh, to live divided!

Omphales.
'Tis a Thought
My Nature starts at, and my Mind rejects,
As something Monstrous, and Impossible!

Ammon.
Compose thy Sorrows: Yet she shall be thine.

[Apart to Omphales.
Omphales.
O, Ammon, Ammon, I grow wild with Thought!
As soon thou may'st reclaim the angry North,
When in his Rage he bows the stubborn Forest.
She's mine! She's justly mine! My lawful Claim!
By Love, by Suff'rance and by Contract mine!
And now to give her up! tamely to part!
Let me be branded with a baser Name
Than Calumny has found, when that can happen!
Whatever desp'rate Man wou'd tear her from me,
Shall win her thus!—

[Here attempting to draw, Hes. obstructs his Hand.
Hesione.
Hah! whither art thou hurry'd?
Forbear this Violence! raise not thy Arm
Against that sacred Head!—

Omphales.
'Twas impious!—
But thou hast chasten'd me—behold me now
Calm, and Repentance all!—O, thou hast Pow'r,
E'en with a Look to charm the wildest Frenzy!
There dwells a wond'rous Magic in those Beauties,
Which, even as the Voice of Harmony,
Comes o'er the Soul, and all is strait compos'd!
Thus lowly let us bend, and to his Heart
Send forth the moving Pray'r of Misery.

[Kneeling with Hesione.
Zimon.
No more! I must not, dare not hear you more!
Tryphon instruct the Priests, that they prepare
A Sacrifice. I'll to the Altar strait,
And thank the Pow'rs, who deign to guide our Actions.

SCENE IV.

Manent Zimon, Hesione, Omphales, and Ammon.
Hesione.
Yet think, my Father, think how much I owe
That wondrous Youth!

Zimon.
Arise, Hesione!
Thou know'st me tender as thy Soul shou'd wish:
Thou know'st me too, when Heav'n, and Duty call,
Rigid as Death!—Thy Mother was a Spartan,
And wou'd have dy'd, e'er she had own'd this Softness,
No more of it, if thou woud'st hold my Love!
[They rise.
'Tis thro' the best Compassion of my Soul,
That I refuse to grant, what Heav'n forbids.

Omphales.
O barbarous Mercy of mistaken Zeal!
How dreadful are those blind Enthusiasts,
Who wound in Mercy, and torment, to save?
I'm lost for ever! Famine, Exile, Chains
Have none so deeply wretched!

Zimon.
Let us hence!
[To Hesione.
I can allow no farther Conference.

Hesione.
Hear me, Omphales, hear me, e'er we part!
(Haply no more my Voice may reach your Ears)
When we are banish'd far from one another,
And thy poor Heart is breaking with its Sorrows,
Call to thy Mind the solemn Vow I made,
When, once conversing in the Myrtle Bower,
We talk'd of Separation, then in Joy,
And sporting as it were, with Misery.
Be that thy Comfort in the Hour of Mourning!

Omphales.
When'er 'tis said, Omphales loves thee less;
Mourns not thy Absence like a faithful Wretch;
Gives respite to Affliction; or receives
Comfort from ought but thee: when this thou'rt told,
Conclude Distraction has been busy here,
And I'm no more Omphales!

Hesione.
Thou art true!

Omphales.
We both are true!

Hesione.
Omphales will not rest;
Nor think of Peace without me!—Oh, farewel!

Omphales.
Farewel! and with thee all our Happiness;

[Exeunt Zimon and Hesione.

SCENE V.

Manent Omphales, and Ammon.
Ammon.
I've found a Stratagem shall make her thine,
Yet thou shalt hope! Thy Ammon bids thee Hope,

Omphales.
Oh, Ammon, I am curs'd beyond all Hope!
Lead me to some yet unfrequented Shade,
Which Nature in Despight of Joy has made;
The melancholy Mansion of Despair,
Gloomy, and horrid as the Fate I bear;
Where hollow Winds, where Springs invite to mourn,
And Echoes sadly every Sigh return:
There I'll grow wild thro' the Excess of Grief,
And in Distraction only find Relief!

[Exeunt.