University of Virginia Library

SCENE VII.

Eurydice, Periander.
Eurydice
aside.
He must not know my secret fatal purpose,
That I am fix'd to die; lest his great soul
Refuse a life so dearly sav'd—And now
All Powers that pity human kind assist me
In this important hour!
[to him.
O Periander—
And is it thus we meet again!

Periander
aside.
Ha! see,
She comes prepar'd. By hell, she weeps a lye.
My rage will leap all bounds.

Eurydice.
My Lord, my love,
I know you look on me as on the cause,
The fatal cause of all your ills; too true:
That guilt is mine—O would to heaven this head
Had been laid low in earth ere that sad hour!
Why did I shrink at ruine? why not bear
All pangs, all horrors of besieging famine?
Alas! my love—But your false faithless subjects
To what have they reduc'd us?

Periander.
No; not they:
Thou vile one, thou alone hast made me wretched.
Thou! thou! whom I had treasur'd in my bosom,
As my life's jewel—thou hast heap'd upon me,
On this poor head, contempt and foul dishonour.

Eurydice.
Just Gods! what means my Lord?

Periander.
Mean!—dost thou ask?

Eurydice.
Heaven! has the Traitor then—

Periander.
Ha! does that gaul thee?
Perdition! shall I stab—But what? shall she,
A woman, shake my soul's firm temper thus?
I will be dumb. Yet no—Yes he, thy minion,
The base one, has repaid thy broken faith
With equal perfidy: has loudly boasted
To heaven, and earth, and me, how vile thou art
Shame! death! distraction!—I too am become
A proverb of reproach, a tale, a word
For ribbald Scorn to mock at.

Eurydice
aside.
O dire error!
Fatal mistake! Now am I lost indeed.
But be it so: what is my life and fame
To saving him?

Periander
aside.
See! guilt has struck her dumb.

Eurydice.
My lord, my only love, by holy faith
I never was disloyal. Rags and penury,
Disease and death, shock not my apprehension
Like that detested crime—I dare no more.
O fly, my love; haste from this fatal place,
And leave me to my fate. O save your life,
While yet 'tis in your power.

Periander.
My life! away.
And hast thou vilely barter'd for that life
Thy truth, and my fair fame? By yon blest heaven,
I could have borne all woes that Wretchedness
Groans under; age, affliction, pining anguish:
And borne them like a man. I could have smil'd
At fortune's keenest rancor—But to know
My self deceiv'd in thee! there, there I sink!
There manhood, reason die!

Eurydice.
O ye just Powers!
Were ever woes like mine? What are the whips,
Rack, engines, all that murderous Cruelty
Hath yet contriv'd—what are they all to this?
This infamy that kills the soul itself?
Yet I will bear even this.
Then here, by weeping, bleeding love I beg you,
With streaming eyes, haste from this fatal place.
The Tyrant may recall his word: and then—
I cannot utter more.

Periander.
And thou can'st weep?
Thou crocodile! These false, these lying tears
Are daggers here. I go—But dost thou hope
Thy mean dissimulation hides thee from me?
Thou hast dishonour'd, ruin'd me; and now
My sight is hateful to thee.
[returning.
But say, tell me
How have I merited these wrongs of thee?
What was my crime? Can all-bestowing Love
Do more than mine for thee?—When I call back
The days that are no more! Thou wert my all
Of happiness: my soul ne'er knew a joy
That was not thine: my doating fondness lull'd
Its hopes, its fears, its wishes, in thy bosom.
O heaven and earth!—and yet—Eurydice—
Thou could'st forsake me!

[weeps.
Eurydice.
Oh this is too much!
Heaven knows I would have dy'd to save thy life:
But we will perish both, both die together.
Thy tears distract me; I will tell thee all.

Periander.
Curse on this weakness. I could tear these eyes
From forth their orbs—Thou exquisite deceiver!
Hence, lest this arm should do a deed of shame,
And stain me with thy blood.

Eurydice.
O but one moment,
For mercy's sake, allow me one short moment.

Periander.
No. In the sight of all-beholding Jove,
Here I renounce thee. What a slave to folly,
To thy curst arts has Periander liv'd!

Eurydice.
O cruel! cruel! hast thou cast me out
For ever from thy heart? By all our loves;
By the dear pledge of our unspotted flames,
Grant me one moment.
[kneels.
Here will I hang; grow to thy knees—Yes, spurn me;
Drag this bare bleeding bosom on the ground;
Yes, use me as the vilest slave—but hear me.

Periander.
Away, away.

Eurydice.
Then strike me dead at once.
Look here, my love; I shrink not from the blow.

Periander.
That were poor vengeance. No; I meditate
A nobler sacrifice—
[alarm of trumpets.
Ha! what is this?
[alarm again.
Th'alarm is urgent, big with war and dread.
I am the sport of fortune.