 | The Distrest Mother |  |
SCENE III.
Hermione, Cleone, Orestes.Orest.
Madam, 'tis done: Your Orders are obeyed;
The Tyrant lies expiring at the Altar.
Herm.
Is Pyrrhus slain?—
Orest.
Even now he gasps in Death.
Our Greeks, all undistinguish'd in the Crowd,
Flock'd to the Temple, and dispers'd themselves
On every side the Altar:—I was there:
Pyrrhus observed me, with a haughty Eye;
And, proud to triumph over Greece in me,
From his own Brows he took the Diadem,
And bound it on the Temples of his Captive.
Receive, said he, my Crown; receive my Faith;
Mine and my People's Sovereign reign for ever.
From this blest Hour, a Father to your Son,
I'll scourge his Foes: Hence-forward be he stiled
The Trojan King. I swear it at the Altar;
And call the Gods to ratify my Vows.
His Subjects with loud Acclamations shook
The spatious Dome! Our Greeks, enraged, cry'd out
Revenge! Revenge! broke through the thronging Press;
And rush'd tumultuous on the unguarded King.
Their eager Fury left no Work for me.
Pyrrhus a while opposed their clashing Swords,
And dealt his fatal Blows on every side,
With Manly Fierceness; till opprest by Numbers,
Streaming with Blood, all over gashed with Wounds,
He reel'd, he groaned, and at the Altar fell.
Our Greeks, all undistinguish'd in the Crowd,
Flock'd to the Temple, and dispers'd themselves
On every side the Altar:—I was there:
Pyrrhus observed me, with a haughty Eye;
And, proud to triumph over Greece in me,
From his own Brows he took the Diadem,
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Receive, said he, my Crown; receive my Faith;
Mine and my People's Sovereign reign for ever.
From this blest Hour, a Father to your Son,
I'll scourge his Foes: Hence-forward be he stiled
The Trojan King. I swear it at the Altar;
And call the Gods to ratify my Vows.
His Subjects with loud Acclamations shook
The spatious Dome! Our Greeks, enraged, cry'd out
Revenge! Revenge! broke through the thronging Press;
And rush'd tumultuous on the unguarded King.
Their eager Fury left no Work for me.
Pyrrhus a while opposed their clashing Swords,
And dealt his fatal Blows on every side,
With Manly Fierceness; till opprest by Numbers,
Streaming with Blood, all over gashed with Wounds,
He reel'd, he groaned, and at the Altar fell.
Haste, Madam; let us fly! haste to our Ships!
They stand unmoored: Our Friends attend us there.
They stand unmoored: Our Friends attend us there.
Herm.
What have they done!
Orest.
Madam, forgive their Rage.
I own your Vengeance had been more compleat,
Had Pyrrhus fallen by me; and had he known,
Hermione chastised him by my Arm.
Herm.
Peace, Monster, Peace!—Go tell thy horrid Tale
To Savages, and howl it out in Desarts.
Would'st thou impute to me thy barbarous Guilt?
Me would'st thou make the Accomplice of thy Crimes?
Hence, to thy Greeks! and boast thy foul Exploits!
My Soul abhors them! I disclaim the Deed!
Be gone! I know thee not! Thou fell Barbarian!
What had he done? What could provoke thy Madness
To assassinate so great, so brave a Man!
Who set thee on?
Orest.
Grant me Patience, Heaven!
With your own Lips did you not curse the Tyrant,
Pronounce his Death, and urge me to destroy him?
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What if, transported by my boundless Passion,
I could not bear to see him wed another?
Were you to obey a jealous Woman's Phrenzy?
You should have dived into my inmost Thoughts:
My Heart, though full of Rage, was free from Malice;
And all my Anger was Excess of Love.
Why did you take me at my Word? You saw
The Struggles of my Soul; you heard me rave.
You should have question'd me a Thousand Times;
Yet still have doubted, and still question'd on,
Before you ventured on a Life so precious.
Orest.
Hear me but speak:—Heaven knows, against my Will.
Herm.
Why did you not return? Why not consult me
A Second time? And, undetermin'd still,
Again return, and still find new Delays.
What had your rash, officious Greeks, dire Blood-Hounds,
To do with my Revenge? What drew you hither,
To bring on me the vengeful Woes that haunt you?
Are these the Fruits of your detested Love?
Your fatal Embassy, your hateful Presence,
Drove Pyrrhus to my Rival; and destroys
Both him and me.—He might have loved me still,
Had you ne'er interposed.—Avant! Be gone!
And leave me in Epirus.—I renounce
My Friends, my Country, Greece, and all Mankind:
But chiefly I renounce Thee! Monster, Thee!
| The Distrest Mother | |