University of Virginia Library

CRATANDER, HECUBA, MELANTHUS, &c.
CRATANDER.
Polyxena, thy daughter—

HECUBA.
Barbarous man,
How dar'st thou triumph at despair like mine!

CRATANDER.
Let not thy anger—

HECUBA.
Tho' in this bad world
Virtue may weep beneath the scourge of vice,
Woe on his soul who dares deride such tears.
Wretch, there are terrible gods!

CRATANDER.
I am not, queen,
The wretch thou think'st me. Tho' I rev'rence gods
A verse from Troy, yet nature in my heart
A spark hath lighted of humanity,
That shines for every mortal in distress.
If never enemy worse tidings bring
He merits not thy wrath.—Thy daughter lives.

HECUBA.
Lives!

CRATANDER.
The guards scarce had born her from thy tent
To yonder narrow pass, when from a copse
Of thick-set thorns, that climb the sloping bank,
Sudden, with furious shout, and clashing sabres,
Forth rush'd a desperate band of bold Pæonians,
Led by Eriphilus. Full thro' the midst
Dauntless he mow'd his way. The Grecian bands
Confounded, scarce unsheath'd their swords, and fell
The victims of his valour.

HECUBA.
For these tidings
Take my soul's dearest thanks. But my poor daughter!
Whither cou'd she betake her?

CRATANDER.
The bold youth,
Swift as the bird of Jove, flew to her rescue,
And bore her off triumphant tow'rds the port
Where his ships anchor. But before my eyes
Lost sight of them, a troop of light-armed Greeks,
Who view'd the routed guards, pursued their flight.
I saw them sink the hill that overhangs
The Hellespont: yet sure they came too late
To overtake their speed. These tidings, queen,
Mov'd by the touch of nature, ev'n a foe
Imparts to thee with joy.

[Exit.
HECUBA.
Oh joy indeed!
Blest be that godlike youth!—Ah quickly tell me,
Who, what he is. Unfold the wond'rous secret
That my soul burns to know.—Why dost thou kneel?

MELANTHUS.
Oh royal queen!

HECUBA.
Who is this more than friend,
This brother to my child?

MELANTHUS.
This brother?

HECUBA.
Tell me.
And my last pray'rs shall draw down blessings on him!

MELANTHUS.
Yes, bless him, bless him!—For he is her brother.
He is thy Polydore, whom I preserv'd
From Polymestor.

[Hecuba faints.
SIGEA.
Oh what hast thou done!

HECUBA.
Where is he? My dear Polydore restor'd
[Recovering
To life and me? Impossible! my heart
Wants pow'r to credit thee. And yet—and yet—
Can falsehood lurk beneath those silver hairs?
It never can. No, I do credit thee,
Whoe'er thou art, old man.

MELANTHUS.
Now, queen, behold me.
And if thou still can'st doubt Eumelus' truth—

HECUBA.
Eumelus!—

MELANTHUS.
This shall witness.

[Gives a wreath.
HECUBA.
Heav'nly pow'rs!
'Tis he. It is Eumelus! Ah this token
Beyond ten thousand proofs confirms the truth.
'Tis the same wreath that bound his infant brow,
The work of my own hands.—Where is my boy?
Bring me my Polydore.—All-gracious heav'n,
How 'scap'd he Polymestor? What good god
Preserv'd his precious life? Tell, tell me all,
And turn me mad with joy.

EUMELUS.
Some other time
Thou shalt know all; know how Ilione
Deceiv'd the cruel king. Now calm thy transport,
The least word may undo thee. Let the secret—
But see he comes.—Ah no, with other looks
This hateful harbinger of wrath approaches!
—By heav'ns, it is Ulysses!

HECUBA.
Let him come.
Now I defy his malice.

EUMELUS.
To your tent.
Oh see him not. His cursed wiles will draw
The fatal secret from you.

HECUBA.
He has seen me.
I cannot now retire.—Fly to the field;
To my dear children fly!—regard not me.
Thy presence will add vigour to their valour;
Shoot a new soul thro' ev'ry soldier's breast.

EUMELUS.
No. To your tent will I retire: there wait
Th'event of this dread conference.

HECUBA.
Fear me not.
Piercing as are his eyes, they cannot dive
Into my soul. There smother'd lies the secret.

EUMELUS.
Quick then repress thy joys, repress thy fears.—
This dreadful hour must prove thee more than woman.

[Exit.