University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Ammon, and Tryphon.
Ammon.
Nor yet the Rites of Sacrifice are past.
I scent the Fat of Oxen from the Altar,
And snuff the Censer's fragrant Offering.

Tryphon.
At length it ends. Behold the sinking Flame:
Zimon advances, and the busy Priests
Croud to divide their savoury Perquisites.
He comes in haste to meet me: now's our time:
Retire, and wait the Opportunity.

Ammon.
Now Mercury inspire thee!

[Ammon absconds.
Tryphon.
Peace! he's here.

SCENE II.

Enter Zimon to Tryphon.
Zimon.
How am I blest, to have been born in Greece,
Where every Pow'r is found with Sacrifice,
And every Action guided from above?
And now my Gratitude is paid to Heav'n,
To thee, the Instrument thro' whom the Gods
Convey their Wills, thou second Cause of Good,
Tryphon, to thee I bow, and thus I thank thee— Embracing him.

Nor, trust me, sacred Prophet, shou'd I blush
E'en in our Forum, in the Face of Athens
To bend more lowly to those reverend Seers,
The Gods distinguish thus—

[Offering to kneel to him
Tryphon.
Alas my Lord!
[Obstructing him.
The best of us are Men, and frail ones too!

Zimon.
How shall I pay thy Care?

Tryphon.
If other End,
Beside the secret Joy of doing Good,
Its Authors have propos'd; I'm Stranger to it.
Wou'dst thou o'erpay what I've already done?—
Let me do more!—I speak in a just Cause,
And will be bold! my Duty makes me bold!
Know, all is yet not right within thy Walls!
This House is threaten'd with impending Dangers!
The Wound is covered o'er; but yet not cur'd!
—Be strictly on thy Guard!

Zimon.
Explain thy self!

Tryphon.
Look to thy Daughter!

Zimon.
Hah!

Tryphon.
Observe her well!
Is she obedient in this time of Tryal?
Does Zimon, or Omphales rule the Maid?
If I presage aright, some Violence
Against the Will of Heav'n is now conspir'd.

Zimon.
What's to be done?

Tryphon.
Best marry her.

Zimon.
To whom?

Tryphon.
'Twere Mercy, tho' a shackled Slave possess'd her,
To save her from Omphales! marry her!
Secure her from her self, and suddenly!
'Twill ease thy loaded Heart of every Care,
And so thou shalt sit down again in Peace,
And thank the Gods, thou'st done a Parent's Duty.

Zimon.
Some Pow'r direct me!

Tryphon.
Fix thy Choice on one
Whom Heav'n shall seem to point at, tho' he's found
As poor as Merit, and as much forsaken.
Be Heaven still the Guide of all thy Actions,
The fix'd, and certain Star, by whose sure Light
Thou safely may'st direct thy doubtful Course.
—Say, hast thou treasur'd in thy Memory
What was reveal'd last Night?—observe it well!
And so thou can'st not err.

Zimon.
Heav'n best can tell,
I wou'd not err!—renew it to my Mind.

Tryphon.
Hear, and attend! thus spoke th' immortal Voice!

Zimon.
Seek near the Maid!—near her—haply in Blood!
Let me reflect!—amongst our great Allies
Think'st thou Lysander worthy of her Love?
Or rather Mentheus?—

Tryphon.
Guard her from his Arms!
An Unbeliever! nurs'd in the loose Sehools
Of Epicurus!—thou may'st recollect,
Before the Sacrifice I gave some Hints
Towards one I thought intended for thy Choice.

Zimon.
I think thou did'st; and thou did'st speak of Ammon?

Tryphon.
Ammon it was—and might I judge in this,
Ammon shou'd call thee Father—'tis a Thought
Has often forc'd it self upon my Mind,
Intruding on my Meditations,
And, when I most have strove to bury it,
It still wou'd rise, and haunt my Memory:
And most of late. I am not credulous;
Nor yet esteem it lawful, to resist
The Hints of Heav'n, howe'er obscure at first
And faint in their Beginning; so resolv'd
To give it to Reflection, as I sat
Retir'd, and musing in my hallow'd Seat,
The sacred Place for Divination chose,
Where oft the wond'rous, and resistless Pow'r
Revisits, and informs my labouring Breast.
There, while I thought, thus it occur'd to me!
'Midst all the Blessings Heaven has granted Zimon,
A Son has been deny'd his fervent Prayr's,
A Son, to follow in his track of Glory;
To pay just Honours to his sacred Tomb;
And, by a noble, and illustrious Race,
Transmit his Name e'en to the last of Time:
But when he's summon'd hence, a Female Hand
Must glad some Stranger's House with his Possessions.

Zimon.
Nor have I murmur'd yet!

Tryphon.
Thus thought I, pensive.
When lo! a secret Impulse from within
Made silent Answer—then have Zimon's Prayers,
His Gists, his Off'rings no regard in Heaven?
Or sees he not the Son the Gods provide?
E'en him he feeds? the Son who wants a Sire?
The Son whose Father Zimon wants?

Zimon.
My Friend!
The faithful Cleon!

Tryphon.
E'en that very Friend!
The same who in the moment of thy Danger,
Advanc'd 'twixt thee, and Death, and in his Heart
(His honest Heart) receiv'd the fatal Weapon.

Zimon.
While there is Warmth, and feeling in this Breast.
That Action claims the noblest of its Sorrows!

Tryphon.
I've heard too, that, expiring in your Arms,
His Son he recommended to your Care,
And in these Words breath'd out his gen'rous Spirit.
“As thou art more, or less a Father to him,
“So lives the Name, and Honour of thy House!
Construe it thus—his Name shall be forgot;
But thine shall live, and be maintain'd in him.
There's more than Sound! a Meaning in his Words!
Prophetic Strength!—the Souls of dying Men,
Breaking from Nature, feel Perfection near,
And, as Immortals, can look into Fate.
Let us not slight these Hints! thou wou'dst not err!

Zimon.
Whene'er I do, my Heart intends it not!

Tryphon.
Add then to these what Heav'n has now reveal'd!
Methinks, the Words direct us to the Man.

Seek near the Maid [observe] a noble Youth,
In Treasure less—[Mark that]—but more in Truth;
Who loves, yet wou'd conceal his Pain!

Zimon.
Who Loves!—

Tryphon.
I have observ'd his Looks of late,
Watch'd every motion of his Eyes, which still
I've found attracted to the lovely Maid.

Zimon.
The Eyes are faithful Ministers in Love,
And ill disguise the Purpose of the Soul.
If thou might'st prove him ta'en in Beauty's Toyls—

Tryphon.
Lo, where he comes! with weight upon his Brow.

Zimon.
And seems to hold a Conference with himself.

Tryphon.
Haply his Words may lead us to the Truth:
'Tis the Delight of Lovers to retire,
And tell their darling Sorrow to the Winds,
Here let us stand, and listen to his Talk.

[They abscond.

SCENE III.

Enter Ammon.
[Seems going off.

SCENE IV.

Enter Zimon, and Tryphon again to Ammon.
Zimon.
Ammon?

Ammon.
My Patron!

Zimon.
I conjure thee, stay—
If yet thou hold'st thy Father's Memory dear;
If Zimon merits ought of Friendship from thee,
Unfold thy self?—what hast thou seen, or heard
To shake thee thus? whence is it, I demand,
Thou'rt haunted by thy self? I charge thee, speak!
Tell this strange Secret, which so fears the Air,
Yet struggles to be known!

Ammon.
What means my Patron?

Zimon.
No more Evasions, Ammon! 'tis too late:
I overhear'd thee—dost thou fear to trust me?
Now by the sacred Guardians of my House!
By my good Sword, and Fame, I'll do it right!
Whate'er it be, it meets with Justice here!

Ammon.
'Twas but a Dream!

Tryphon.
Remember, Ammon, Dreams
Are sacred Things; for Dreams descend from fove.

Ammon.
Forbid it, Heav'n, I shou'd resist thy Will!

Zimon.
And thou conceal'st it yet.

Ammon.
Why then, my Lord,
I will be bold, and open all my Soul;
—But first resolve me this! thus on my Knees
I beg, thou wilt resolve me from thy Heart;
For it concerns my Peace—hast thou decreed
Art thou irrevocably fix'd to hold
Thy Daughter from my Friend?

Tryphon.
Observe you that?

[Apart to Zimon.
Zimon.
Art thou to learn me yet? when am I found
Irresolute, and wav'ring in my Duty?
Tho' to these Eyes she's dearer than the Light,
Whene'er he meets her in the nuptial Bed,
May Nature err! and Monsters be their Offspring.

Ammon.
It is enough! and witness now ye Pow'rs,
[Rises.
By whose dread Names Omphales seal'd our Friendship!
Witness! I've now been faithful to the Man
Who scorns his sacred Vow!—no more! I'm free!
And thus with Honour may unfold my self.
—Know then, my Patron, even at that Time
When first your Daughter's Nuptials were deferr'd,
In the last Hour of Night, when all was hush'd,
And Sleep had shed its kindly Influence on me,
Hesione appears to grace my Slumbers.
Not as she's wont by Day: but unattir'd,
Unbound, and wild her Hair, her Garments flowing,
And loosen'd all as for the Nuptial Bed.
A while she gaz'd upon me, and in Smiles,
Such as assenting Deities bestow,
Seem'd to persuade me, that her Heart was mine.
Ambitious Dream! but mark the heavy Change!
For from that Time, e'en from that very Hour,
Forgive me, if I say, I lov'd her more
Than Health, or Life, or all that Heav'n can give!

Tryphon.
Have I presag'd aright?

Zimon.
O, thou unerring Seer!

Ammon.
Yet less than Honour! for I told my Heart
She was my Friend's, and strove to humble it.
This past, and Day by Day I grew in Fondness!
At length the second, solemn Tryal came;
Heav'n still averse! the Rites again deferr'd!
This, I confess, alarm'd me! now the Pow'rs,
And Precedents of Visions I besought
With due Libations, Pray'r, and Sacrifice,
That, if not false, my Dream might be renew'd
With clearer Evidence: when, lo! again
I met her in my Slumbers; met him too
Whom I wou'd call my Friend, the lost Omphales.
In vain, methought, he strove to hold the Maid,
While like some Nymph of Dian's nimble Train,
Thro' fancy'd Ways, o'er Hills, and flow'ry Plains
Swiftly she fled from his desiring Arms;
And with a gentle Wafture of her Hand
Bid me pursue—and then last Night again—
But thou art sick already of my Tale!

Zimon.
If thou in ought regard'st or Heav'n, or me,
I charge thee, on!

Ammon.
Then thus in brief!—last Night
Deck'd in her Marriage Garment she appear'd.
The Hymeneal Pomp; the nuptial Brands,
Attending Virgins, and rejoicing Friends
Were all around: and, strange! I there beheld,
(As Death's cold Hand had ne'er obstructed her)
Her Mother!—who in Smiles—

Zimon.
Be brief in that!

Ammon.
Why then no more than this! to Ammon's Arms
You gave Hesione, and we were happy.

Zimon.
Then happy may'st thou be!

Tryphon.
Art thou convinc'd?

Zimon.
O, ye immortal Pow'rs!

Tryphon.
What Proofs are here?
O Zimon, thou art favour'd of the Gods!

Ammon.
Surely again I dream! and this is yet
Another pleasing Vision!

Zimon.
No, thou wak'st
To Joy, to Hymen! to Hesione!

Ammon.
Shall the poor Orphan Ammon be so rais'd?

Zimon.
Think in whose Cause thou did'st become an Orphan!
For me thou lost a Father, and in me
Most right it is, that thou shou'dst find a Father.
And thus, ye Pow'rs, ye manifest your Justice!

Tryphon.
Thy Piety is register'd above!

Zimon.
O Tryphon, I have been an Age in Debt!
I blush, with shame I blush, when I reflect
How poor in Gratitude, how slow I've been
In my Returns of Love to Cleon's Offspring!

Ammon.
My Father's Action was its own Reward:
For well he knew, when he preserv'd thy Life,
In thee he sav'd our State, and dy'd for Athens.

Zimon.
Oh, Athens felt his Fall!—he was a Man!—
—Tryphon, betake thee to the holy Place!
There let the Priests adorn a sacred Altar;
With Garlands see it dress'd of genial Flow'rs;
Spread on it all the Fragrance of the East,
Each costly Spice, each Gum Arabia yields,
That on th' aspiring Sweets their Nuptial Vows
May mount aloft, and be receiv'd in Heav'n!

[Exit Tryphon.

SCENE V.

Manent Zimon, and Ammon.
Ammon.
O, may I live but to deserve this Blessing!

Zimon.
We'll to Hesione; and she shall learn
What I've resolv'd, and listen to thy Vows.
—I might be tedious in my Daughter's Praise;
But thou hast known her long: when I give her,
I give thee all the Virtues of her Sex!
In Errors lost unguided Mortals stray;
But here the Gods direct us in our Way!

[Exeunt.