University of Virginia Library

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.