University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

The Palace.
Enter Amphares hastily, followed by Nicrates.
AMPHARES.
Suspicious brother!

[petulantly.
NICRATES.
True; I am suspicious.
Your hasty visit to Cleombrotus,
Whom you profess to envy, and to hate;
Th'impatient steps with which you seek the king;
That fiery thoughtfulness within your eye,
Which ever indicates some foster'd evil—
Give my suspicions life.—Thus your eye roll'd
Whilst planning death for the immortal Agis;
And such the brow you wore, this early day,
When by your arts possess'd, the wretched king,
Instead of blessings, gave his daughter chains.

AMPHARES.
If thou believ'st, that I have power, and will,
To crush to earth the beings who offend me,
Why so licentious in reproof? If Agis
Thron'd as he was within his people's hearts,
Was from their bosoms dragg'd; if Chelonice,
Belov'd to dotage by her tyrant father,
Seeks at my bidding, patience in a prison—
What fate waits thee? Why urge the venom'd sting,
Fatal to Agis, and to Chelonice?

NICRATES.
Thy threat appals me not; thy venom'd sting
May reach my heart, but shall not shake my virtue.
I've not been taught to fear to give reproof
For evil deeds, though acted by a brother;
And should'st thou dare to skreen thy guilty brows
Within the awful circle of a crown,
Then my reproofs shall glow with new found bitterness,
And what the brother scorns, shall pierce the king.

AMPHARES.
Accept my caution, and beware! Thou speak'st
In words, good brother! Monarchs speak in deeds.
Leonidas approaches.

[He enters.
LEONIDAS.
Oh Amphares!
Thy rapid steps were wing'd by my desires—
So short the time they've ask'd! Leave us, Nicrates;
Secrets of state demand this hour in privacy.
[Exit Nicrates.
When expectation pants, the form of questions
Appears too cold to suit its ardors. Speak.
Amphares, speak to my impatient thoughts!

AMPHARES.
Should all your hopes be met with the success
Which crown'd my embassy, 'twould rank Leonidas
Most fortunate of kings.

LEONIDAS.
Is the wolf snared?

AMPHARES.
Not snared, but rushing eager to the toils.

LEONIDAS.
Come to my heart! Shall he escape the toils?

AMPHARES.
Yes, as the dove escapes the eagle's pounce,
When borne aloft, she trembles in the clouds.

LEONIDAS.
What can reward thee? But explain, Amphares;
Unfold the arts, which triumph'd o'er his caution.

AMPHARES.
'Tis known, Cleombrotus, tho' bold as soldier,
Bears all the lover's weakness in his heart—
Doating t'excess on charming Chelonice.
Excess of love—how easy to make jealous!
I talk'd of rivals, nam'd the fated grove,
As the dear spot where lawless cupids reign,
And sing their wanton pæans to dishonour.

LEONIDAS.
(eagerly.)
He will be there?

AMPHARES.
Yes, with night's earliest shades.

LEONIDAS.
And thou wilt meet him there?

AMPHARES.
Is't your command?

LEONIDAS.
It is my earnest wish, my ardent hope.
Are these not strong enough, to urge thy arm?
Then think of thy reward—'tis Chelonice.
Her widow'd bed shall know no lord but thee,
Son of my choice, and partner of my throne!

AMPHARES.
Hear, Jupiter! bear witness to the vow!
And now by Sparta's guardian god I swear
Not to behold thee, 'till this loyal arm
Hath rooted from the earth the thorn which wounds thee.

LEONIDAS.
Oh time! compress each intermediate hour
Into a point, that I may leap at once
O'er the wide chasm of anxious expectation,
Into the hour of triumph, or despair!

AMPHARES.
Not hours, but minutes, form the dreaded chasm.
The sun already hath his axle quench'd
Beneath the turb'lent flood; and when he next
Shall spread his gorgeous mantle o'er the skies,
Thy foes, Leonidas, he shall behold
Melt like the silver drops his ardent beam
Draws from the earth, then dissipates in air.

LEONIDAS.
I rest me there! farewell! remember Chelonice!

[Exeunt.
Scene changes to the Prison.
Chelonice enters from the Flat. The child asleep on a Pallet. She goes to him.
CHELONICE.
Still press thy poppies on his humid brow,
Sweet sleep! Blest in thy arms, nor prison walls,
Nor chains, nor parent's cruelty, have power
To give one pang. 'Tis to reflective minds,
To sense awaken'd in the madd'ning soul,
That misery appears, in all its fulness.
Celestial powers! Ye know why we were call'd
From senseless nothing, into conscious life;
Ye know, why ye bestow'd the nerve to agonize,
The heart to rend; and those contending passions
Which restlessly oppose, and vex each other!
What are those chains that bind my passive arms,
Compared to those which hold my mind enslav'd?
They say the mind is free—mistaking casuists!
Must it not mourn, rejoice, regret, despair,
E'en as our passions please? those lordly passions,
Who, spite of vaunted reason, hold the sceptre,
And keep the obedient soul in close subjection.—
My sweet one wakes! How now, my lovely boy?
Art thou refresh'd? thy slumber has been long.

CHILD.
Would it were longer! for I've had such dreams,
Such pretty dreams! that I am griev'd to wake.
I thought, dear mother! that this gloomy place
Became a palace; and those wicked chains
That make me cry to look at them, dropt off.
Oh, let me tear them off!—Were I a man,
I should be strong enough, but now they mock me.

CHELONICE.
Regard them not, my love!—The chains of gold
Upon the neck of power, or those of steel
Upon the captive's arm, are yet but chains;
And neither, mark the happiness within.

NICRATES.
(without.)
Oppose me not; admittance I must have—
I'll answer't to the king.

CHELONICE.
Who then is this,
That spite of opposition makes his visits
To the sad inmates of a dreary dungeon?

NICRATES.
(entering.)
Oh Princess!

CHELONICE.
'Tis Nicrates! generous youth;
Why will you risk offence, to speak your pity,
Where pity's tend'rest drops must fall in vain?

NICRATES.
Alas! 'tis not to pity that I come;
Though thus to see you, royal, virtuous lady!
Would force a sigh from bosoms strange to pity.
I come to ask your counsel; to inform you
Of things so dreadful, that they will demand
All the tried firmness of your noble mind,
To bear with calmness.

CHELONICE.
Hold! forbear a moment!
What may this evil be?—breathe not a sound!
Yet—yes, now I am firm.—Speak then, my friend,
Whilst I lift up my heart to heaven, for fortitude!

NICRATES.
Oh that in gentle terms, and soft gradations,
I might unfold the torturing tale! But time
Too closely presses; for this very hour,
Unless the guardian genius of thy husband
Should grant to thee some sudden inspiration
By which to save him—Oh, look not thus wildly!
Your apprehensive mind perceives the ill—
Command me how to act.

CHELONICE.
Where is my husband?

[Breathless.
NICRATES.
Advancing to the snare, my brother's hand
Hath spread to catch him.—Deceiv'd into belief
That thou'rt unchaste; and that the grove—

CHELONICE
(shrieks).
The grove!
I see it all—oh murd'rous perseverance!
These chains—I'll instant fly—tear off those chains!
Have I—oh proud of heart! contemn'd them? Now,
Yes, now I feel their weight—they hold me here;
They're fate—they're fate to my Clembrotus!

NICRATES.
Oh, princess! recollect—

CHELONICE.
I'll pass the guards;
They cannot, dare not—

NICRATES.
The attempt is fruitless.
Their lives must answer should they let you pass;
Judge then if this heart-piercing agony,
Or all the eloquence inspired by grief,
Can tempt their disobedience to the king?

CHELONICE.
Insensate stones! burst from your cement ribs.
Ye bars, ye flints, have ye no ears for grief?
Oh, for one little breach, thro' which to force
This wretched frame.—Vain—'tis in vain! here fix'd
Here tortured, I must stay! But where's my father?
[Eagerly,
My father, did I say—oh, filiacide!

NICRATES.
He and Amphares—brother, he's no more!
Parted but now.—I'd orders to avoid them;
Yet stay'd within the ear of all that pass'd,
Then hasten'd to your presence.

CHELONICE.
To the grove!
Hence! fly from me, and bend your eag'rest steps,
To where the murd'rer lingers for his prey.
Save my Cleombrotus! shew him his danger;
But oh, be tender to a father's name!

NICRATES.
I will obey you.

CHELONICE.
He hath been deceiv'd.
Amphares is ambitious, and his arts
Leonidas's noble mind hath bow'd to;
Remember this! nor let my husband's heart
Too deeply feel the errors of my father!
Oh come, my son! within our dismal cell,
Prone on the earth we'll supplicate the Gods.
The sacrifice must be heart-rending groans;
And for libations—surely from our eyes
Such sorrowing streams will flow, that tho' unhallow'd
The pitying heavens shall accept the waste,
And scant our measure of encreasing woes!

[Exeunt.
Scene changes to the Grove.
Enter Cleombrotus.
CLEOMBROTUS.

[Exit.
Enter Amphares.
AMPHARES.
[Exit.

Enter Nicrates, wounded, and leaning on his sword.
NICRATES.
Stay! oh stay thou fratricide!
He's gone, and thinks his villainy complete.
I cannot further.
(sinks down)
'Twas a sure aim'd blow,
Tho' not within that heart he purpos'd.—Oh!

Enter Cleombrotus.
CLEOMBROTUS.
Those are the moans of death, and not of love.
What wretch art thou?

NICRATES.
Art thou Cleombrotus?

CLEOMBROTUS.
I am.

NICRATES.
I then have sav'd thee—sent by Chelonice
To warn thee of approaching death, which now
Hath seiz'd on me; and I rejoice my prince,
That—oh—

CLEOMBROTUS.
Stop not dear youth, whoe'er thou art;
And who thou art, this failing light denies me.

NICRATES.
I am his brother by whose arm I dye;
He loves the princess and would reach thy crown.
Here he appointed thee to meet his sword—
But plunged it haply, in a meaner bosom.
Oh fly this spot—it is Nicrates bids thee.

CLEOMBROTUS.
The brother of Amphares!—mighty Gods!
His arm that pierc'd thee thus?

NICRATES.
It was Amphares!

CLEOMBROTUS.
Stiff'ning with horror, scarcely can I question thee—
—Yet breathe one word—O! where is Chelonice!

NICRATES.
Chain'd and imprison'd by—oh—

CLEOMBROTUS.