 | Hecuba |  |
HECUBA, SIGEA, MELANTHUS.
HECUBA.
I live! I breathe! my cumber'd soul still drags
Mortality's vile clog! 'tis the same world!
'Tis the same sun that saw the ruthless dagger
Plung'd in her heart! and yet th'infernal deed
Eclips'd not the bright orb: still, still it shines!
Still throws its flaring beams thro' my weak brain!
—Earth will not yawn to hide me! I must stand
Still as I do, on its detested surface;
The scorn, the sport of an insulting world!
—They shall not hear me groan—I'll choak these sighs!
I'll seem as all were peace! no Grecian eye
Shall pry into these mighty realms of woe,
And see how vast they are!
VIRGIN.
Oh speak to her!
SIGEA.
Speak, good Melanthus. Some way try to calm
This tempest in her soul.
MELANTHUS.
Dire is the doom
Thy destiny decrees. Yet 'mid thy grief,
Oh hear me hapless queen!
HECUBA.
Why, what art thou?
Say, didst thou feel for her a mother's pang?
Ah, didst thou feel for her a mother's joy!
She never milk'd thy breast! else stead of tears,
And womanish sighs, thy voice, to terror turn'd,
Had rouz'd Alecto from the depth of hell
To blast her murderer! Oh he derides
This impotence of rage. Ye vengeful bolts,
Hurl'd on the light'ning's blaze thro' the red air,
To atoms shatter him.—Or me, dread gods,
Bear me to the curst wretch! weak tho' I am,
I am a mother: and the feebleness
Of fourscore years, inspir'd by wrongs like mine,
May sink his guilty soul!
MELANTHUS.
As safely might'st thou
Approach the tiger's den. The sword of Pyrrhus
That strikes the life of thy Polyxena,
Stands drawn for Hecuba.
HECUBA.
Here let him sheath it!
But yet he will not. 'Twere a friendly blow.
'Twou'd kill remembrance, stifle painful thought,
And make me of a piece with this dull clod!
—Now I am curs'd with sense!—but I will go!
Something I'll do—Away old man, away.
Thy blood runs cold—thy bosom never burn'd
With royal fire—Where's the Pæonian youth?
Fly, find him. Bid him rush on their curst rites—
Snatch her from fate—
MELANTHUS.
For heaven's sake hold—
HECUBA.
Stand off—
MELANTHUS.
As thou regard'st thy everlasting peace—
For know, shou'd thy rash rage destroy this youth,
Thy present pangs are poor to the fierce horrors
That then will seize thy soul.
HECUBA.
Eternal pow'rs!
What mean'st thou?
MELANTHUS.
Summon all thy fortitude;
While to thy wond'ring ears my tongue unfolds—
—No more—no more—
HECUBA.
I live! I breathe! my cumber'd soul still drags
Mortality's vile clog! 'tis the same world!
'Tis the same sun that saw the ruthless dagger
Plung'd in her heart! and yet th'infernal deed
Eclips'd not the bright orb: still, still it shines!
36
—Earth will not yawn to hide me! I must stand
Still as I do, on its detested surface;
The scorn, the sport of an insulting world!
—They shall not hear me groan—I'll choak these sighs!
I'll seem as all were peace! no Grecian eye
Shall pry into these mighty realms of woe,
And see how vast they are!
VIRGIN.
Oh speak to her!
SIGEA.
Speak, good Melanthus. Some way try to calm
This tempest in her soul.
MELANTHUS.
Dire is the doom
Thy destiny decrees. Yet 'mid thy grief,
Oh hear me hapless queen!
HECUBA.
Why, what art thou?
Say, didst thou feel for her a mother's pang?
Ah, didst thou feel for her a mother's joy!
She never milk'd thy breast! else stead of tears,
And womanish sighs, thy voice, to terror turn'd,
Had rouz'd Alecto from the depth of hell
To blast her murderer! Oh he derides
This impotence of rage. Ye vengeful bolts,
Hurl'd on the light'ning's blaze thro' the red air,
To atoms shatter him.—Or me, dread gods,
37
I am a mother: and the feebleness
Of fourscore years, inspir'd by wrongs like mine,
May sink his guilty soul!
MELANTHUS.
As safely might'st thou
Approach the tiger's den. The sword of Pyrrhus
That strikes the life of thy Polyxena,
Stands drawn for Hecuba.
HECUBA.
Here let him sheath it!
But yet he will not. 'Twere a friendly blow.
'Twou'd kill remembrance, stifle painful thought,
And make me of a piece with this dull clod!
—Now I am curs'd with sense!—but I will go!
Something I'll do—Away old man, away.
Thy blood runs cold—thy bosom never burn'd
With royal fire—Where's the Pæonian youth?
Fly, find him. Bid him rush on their curst rites—
Snatch her from fate—
MELANTHUS.
For heaven's sake hold—
HECUBA.
Stand off—
MELANTHUS.
As thou regard'st thy everlasting peace—
For know, shou'd thy rash rage destroy this youth,
Thy present pangs are poor to the fierce horrors
38
HECUBA.
Eternal pow'rs!
What mean'st thou?
MELANTHUS.
Summon all thy fortitude;
While to thy wond'ring ears my tongue unfolds—
—No more—no more—
| Hecuba | |