University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

Agamemnon, Egisthus.
Egisthus.
Health to Agamemnon!
And Happiness responsive to his Glory!

Agamemnon.
Cousin, I greet you well.

Egisthus.
Forgive me, Sir,
You have surpriz'd us with this quick Return:
For by that Signal, whose illustrious Flame
Rejoic'd all Greece, we did not hope your Presence
These three days hence. Forgive, that, unprepar'd,
We only with that Joy, that Transport, wonder,
Which swell each Grecian Bosom, thus receive you.
And truly such a Burst I have not seen
Of that best Triumph. City, Country, all,
Is in a gay triumphant Tempest tost.
I scarce could press along. The Trumpet's Voice
Is lost in loud repeated Shouts, that raise
Your Name to Heaven. Ten thousand Eyes, below,
Ake to behold the Conqueror of Troy.

Agamemnon.
The noblest Praise that can salute my Ear,
The sweetest Music, is my People's Joy.
But sure your Tongue has done it ample Justice;
Trust me, you blazon a Description well.
I have not heard so much obliging Speech
These many Years.

Egisthus.
Misconstrue not my Zeal:
On the full Heart obedient Language waits.
I feel so deep your Glory, Agamemnon,
As mingles with my Joy a sort of Passion,
That almost touches Envy. O ye Gods!
Has, while I liv'd, a War, the most renown'd
Which any Age e'er saw, or shall again
Be seen; a War, whose never-dying Fame
Will cover Earth, and reach remotest Time,
Has such a War adorn'd my Days, and I
Not shar'd its Glory? Pining here, unknown,
In nameless Peace—how have I lost my Life!

Agamemnon.
This Ardor is the Mode. But know, Egisthus,
That ruling a free People well in Peace,
Without or yielding or usurping Power;
Maintaining firm the Honour of the Laws,
Yet sometimes softening their too rigid Doom,
As Mercy may require; steering the State,
Thro' factious Storms, or the more dangerous Calms
Of Peace, by long Continuance grown corrupt;
Besides the fair Career which Fortune opens,
To the mild Glories of protected Arts,
To Bounty, to Beneficence, to Deeds
That give the Gods themselves their brightest Beams:
Yes, know, that these are, in true Glory, equal,
If not superior, to deluding Conquest:
Nor less demand they Conduct, Courage, Care,
And persevering Toil.

Egisthus.
Say thankless Toil,
Harsh and unpleasing; that, instead of Praise
And due Reward, meets oftner Scorn, Reproach,
Fierce Opposition to the clearest Measures;
Injustice, Banishment, or Death itself:
Such is the Nature of malignant Man.
Not so the Victor's Meed: Him all approve,
Him all admire.

Agamemnon.
Yet tho' a toilsome Task,
Tho' an ungrateful Labour oft to rule;
I not so hardly of Mankind, Egisthus,
Presume to judge. Truth, Wisdom, Courage, Justice,
Beneficence, and to the Public Good
A constant Tenor of well laid Designs;
These must be awful in the worst of Times,
Be amiable, dear; while Worth, at last
Will light up Worth, and Virtue kindle Virtue.
You was however eas'd of half the Toil,
By him I left to counsel Clytemnestra,
By Melisander.

Egisthus.
Would to Heaven I had!

Agamemnon.
You much amaze me.—Is not Melisander
Wise, just and faithful?

Egisthus.
Sir, I own
He wore a specious Mask—

Agamemnon.
Beware, Egisthus;
I know his stedfast Worth, and will not bear
The farthest Hint that stains the Man I love.

Egisthus.
Then urg'd by Truth, and in my own Defence,
I boldly will assert him, Agamemnon,
To be more apt to trouble and embroil,
Than serve a State. A certain stubborn Virtue,
I would say Affectation of blunt Virtue,
Beneath whose outside Froth, fermenting, lay
Pride, Envy, Faction, Turbulence of Soul,
And Democratic Views, in some sort, made him
A secret Traitor, equally unfit
Or to obey or rule. But that I check'd
His early Treasons, here, at your Return,
You might have found your Kingdom a Republic.

Agamemnon.
O I shall lose all Patience!—
[Aside.
You do well,
To give your Accusation open Speech.
Meantime, remember, you must fully prove it,
You must!—And he who Melisander proves
The Wretch you have describ'd, proves Man is vain,
And saps the broad Foundations of all Trust.
I know he would not patiently look on,
And suffer ill Designs to gather Strength,
Awaiting gentle Seasons; yes, I know,
He had a troublesome old-fashion'd way,
Of shocking courtly Ears with horrid Truth.
He was no civil Ruffian: none of those,
Who lye with twisted Looks, betray with Shrugs—
I wax too warm—But he was none of those,
Is none of those dust-licking, reptile, close,
Insinuating, speckled, smooth Court-Serpents,
That make it so unsafe, chiefly for Kings,
To walk this weedy World—Pardon my Heat—
I wander from the Purpose—You, Egisthus,
Must prove your Charge, to Melisander's Face
Must prove it.

Egisthus.
Surely—Since the Princely Faith
Of your own Blood you doubt—

Agamemnon.
Friendship and Truth
Are more a-kin to me than Blood.

Egisthus.
You shall,
You shall have Proof; but to his Face you cannot.

Agamemnon.
But to his Face I will!—I cannot! why?

Egisthus.
He wanders far from hence, I know not where.
For when I found him an undoubted Traitor,
Tho' he the heaviest Punishment deserv'd,
Yet in regard to that Esteem, which, once,
You deign'd to bear him, Banishment alone
Was all I did inflict.

Agamemnon.
I thank you, Sir—
O you are wond'rous good!—But tell me, how,
How durst you meddle in the Sphere assign'd
To Clytemnestra? He was left to Her;
To be her Counsellor I left my Friend,
Left Melisander; left a Man, whom long,
Whom well I knew; perhaps, to check you, left him:
And you pretend, you!—But I will be calm—
These Passions in a King to his Inferiors,
Who cannot answer equal, are not comely.
Forgive my Transport—A more quiet Hour
Shall sift this Matter to the bottom, shall
Do Melisander or Egisthus Justice.