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68

ACT V.

The Vestibule of the Temple of JUPITER.
Enter IOLAUS.
IOLAUS.
Oh, death to all our hopes! oh direful change!
Passing all thought, all patience! every star
Disastrous frowns, stern Juno's bolt is sped,
And Fate may drop the curtain!
Enter HÆMON.
Without words,
That cheek of blank despair too plainly speaks
The horror of thy tale!

HÆMON.
The Destinies
Have done their dreadful work! that fiend Alcander
Blasts like a pestilence. Oh, Iolaus!
She whom our hearts ador'd, the lovely maid,
—So idoliz'd!—

IOLAUS.
Alcander, in contempt
Of the gods' thunder, from the sanctuary,
I know, has forced Macaria; but I know
No more.


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HÆMON.
Alas! the star of Greece is fallen!
Pensive I saw her led, unhappy princess!
Through thousands, who with mute compassion wept,
To Juno's fatal altar: Her meek eyes
Submissive on the earth; languid and pale
Her beauteous cheeks; yet ever and anon
With guiltless apprehension glowing red.

IOLAUS.
Where! where was Acamas! the only friend,
Whose prowess could protect her?

HÆMON.
No protection,
Helpless, sad prince, himself, could he afford,
In a dark dungeon captive. His high spirit
Has ruin'd all; defeated every hope,
And sacrificed the victim he would save.—
Both, both are fallen!

IOLAUS.
But that it were base,
Hæmon, in this extreme, and cowardly,
To die, and to desert our wretched queen;
How gladly to the gods would I now give
My weary spirit back; and, at one blow,
Quiet this conflict!—Nay, make no reply;
But back to Juno's grove: and, if the worst
Has happen'd; see each decent duty done;
The last sad honours!—oh, ill-fated maid!
—But, hold.—That dreadful office should be mine.
My eyes should see each decent duty done.
My hands the last sad office should perform.

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—And so, by heaven, they shall!—I'll to the grove.
My heart bodes something—Hæmon, tend the queen.
I'll to the grove.—My destiny drives on,
To death—I hope, to death.

[Exit.
HÆMON.
Hapless old man!
His love for her distracts, and hurries him
To something desperate.—Farewell, sweetest flower,
That ever bloom'd below! most generous, best,
Noblest of women!—Wretched Deianira!
Soon, very soon, the tale will reach thy ears.
And how to bear the long laments and anguish
Of a distracted mother!—lo! she comes.
Good heaven! how changed! in solemn mute despair.

Enter DEIANIRA and Virgins from the Temple.
DEIANIRA.
No; I am calm as midnight sleep. I know
Your awful wills, dread powers! and I submit,
How hard soe'er. 'Tis not for earth like me
To question heaven: my dreadful day is done.
I shall soon sleep, secure from all your storms.
Lead to the altar. Yet, alas! I've strength
To bear me to the altar.

HÆMON.
Back again!
Ah, rather let me lead my honour'd queen,
Back to the temple.

DEIANIRA.
Wherefore that loud shout?


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HÆMON.
Enquire no further.—To the temple, ere
It comes upon thee. 'Tis a shout, alas!
To strike thy heart!

DEIANIRA.
Will it strike through my heart?
Oh, that it would—Stand off! restrain me not!
I will not to the temple! My despair,
Wrought up to this stupendous height, inspires
A courage equal to itself! My soul
Snatches from this wild horror that surrounds me,
A force unfelt before.

Enter an OFFICER.
HÆMON.
Thy looks appall me.
What dreadful tidings?—

OFFICER.
Unappall'd myself
I cannot speak the tidings. All's confusion!
Athens into destruction thrown!

DEIANIRA.
Rage on,
Confusion and distraction! Rage through Athens!
Oh! 'tis some god that kindles up the spirit,
Th'avenging spirit!

HÆMON.
Where, where is Acamas?
Will not the soldiers burst the prison-doors?
Let forth their general?


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OFFICER.
They the prison-doors
Have burst, and let their general forth. The name
Of Acamas from thousand tongues re-echoed,
As on to Juno's grove he marched, brave prince,
T'avenge Macaria's fate; forbidding all
The croud to follow.

HÆMON.
Hark! that general uproar!
What means it? gracious heaven!

DEIANIRA.
My daughter dies!
That general uproar is the army's groan!
—I will not be withheld! I'll clasp my child,
My murder'd child! I'll suck from her cold lips
Her parting spirit, and sigh out my own!

HÆMON.
Hear, hapless queen—

DEIANIRA.
Inexorable Juno!
This is thy fated curse! on father, mother,
Children, it lights on all! and I am doom'd
To stand this high example of thy hate,
Misfortune-finish'd model!—wherefore kneel?
[to Hæmon.
Why strike thy breast? nor prayers nor groans can bid
Her be alive again.—Look there!—behold!
Her life-blood gushes from the wound! the priests
Gaze on her panting heart!—Barbarians, hold!
—And none, will none rush in!—thus then I burst

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On your curst rites! your altars overthrow!
And with a mother's blood—

Enter MACARIA, with a drawn dagger.
MACARIA.
My mother, oh!

DEIANIRA.
Dear spirit of my child! my murder'd child!

[She faints.
MACARIA.
Give, give her to my arms. I only can
Breathe life into her lips.—It is Macaria,
Invokes her mother! ah, can Deianira
Be deaf to her Macaria!

DEIANIRA.
If I dream,
Oh, never wake me more! I do not dream.
I see, I clasp my child! my every sense
Feels, and acknowledges that thou art she!
—Yet, when my shuddering soul rush'd forth to meet
A breathless victim!

MACARIA.
I stood at the altar,
A self-devoted victim, to preserve
My dearest mother's life. My bosom bare,
And my own hand uplifted for the stroke.
In that dread moment sounded an alarm.
And clashing arms were heard: and soldiers shouting
The name of Acamas.—The king turned pale.
The priests in speechless horror, stood aghast!
When, like some spectre scared from Erebus,

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Into the holy grove rushed Iolaus;
Death in his ghastly face, and gaunt despair!
Close by my side Alcander he beheld;
And, fired with sudden frenzy, hurled at him
A random spear. It missed Alcander's breast,
And Thestor struck: the reverend aged Thestor,
Smeared with his blood, fell gasping at my feet.
Still frighted fancy shudders at the sight!
'Mid the dread outcry, Acamas burst in!
I fled: and in th'alarm, tremendous deed!
Bore off the sacred sword!

DEIANIRA.
Yet tremble not.
The guardian power who Iolaus sent
To snatch thee from its stroke, his gracious goodness
Will pardon my poor child.—But let me hide it!
For me it still has terrors!—tho' that fiend
Alcander grasps it not, a mother's heart
Quakes to look on't! close, close let me conceal it.

[takes the dagger.
HÆMON.
By heaven, the villain comes! retire at once—
Quick to the altar, ere her doom is seal'd.
[they enter the temple.
Th'eternal destinies their mortal sheers
Spread o'er them.—Acamas, I fear, is fallen.
And now with tenfold rage this ravening wretch
Comes prowling for his prey.

Enter ALCANDER.
ALCANDER.
May every curse
Light upon Acamas!—Where shall I fly?

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How hide me from his frenzy? Some ill dæmon
Plots, and fights for him, and o'erbears all bounds.
Where shall I fly?—this temple must protect me.
'Tis my sole refuge.

Enter ACAMAS.
ACAMAS.
Turn, infernal monster!
'Tis Acamas arrests thee. Acamas,
Fate's vengeful minister! and by the fires
That flame for such a fiend!—

ALCANDER.
Off! desperate man!
Rever'st thou not the temple! 'tis Jove's temple!
Frantic as is thy fury, thou wilt tremble
To brave thy own god's thunder!

ACAMAS.
Thus the God
Bolts on thy head his thunder.

[fight—Alcander falls.
ALCANDER.
Perdition on him!
The steel has struck my heart! life flows away—
And conscience! conscience! oh—

[dies.
ACAMAS.
Pardon, holy power!
The perpetration of th'unhallowed deed
Within thy sactuary!—Accept the victim,
A sacrifice to justice!


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Enter MACARIA from the Temple, followed by DRIANIRA.
MACARIA.
Yes, my mother,
Fearless approach. 'Tis Acamas himself!
Our guardian power!

ACAMAS.
Oh sounds! that from the tomb
Might back recall the soul of Acamas!
Yes, 'tis thy guardian power, whose sword has slain
That execrable wretch!

MACARIA.
With him, with him,
Die all our terrors!

DEIANIRA.
My heart too should triumph.
But at the sight of death, thro' every vein
My blood runs chill.

Enter DEMOPHON, &c.
DEMOPHON.
Search all the temple round.
Seize, bind the villain, whose infernal wiles
Have snared my credulous soul. Th'attrocious slave,
On whom the Furies must inflict new pangs,
Tortures untried before!

ACAMAS.
He's gone to prove
Their fiercest indignation.—Start not, king;

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He who the shrine would stain with innocent blood,
No sanctuary should find it.

DEMOPHON.
Read, read there
The ruffian's scroll to Thestor, the avouch
Of a false oracle, by him suborned
To work Macaria's death.

ACAMAS.
Inhuman slave!

DEIANIRA.
Oh horrible!

DEMOPHON.
Ah, more of horror yet,
Unhappy queen, remains! much horror more,
To wound a mother's, and a sister's breast!
That wretch Alcander!

DEIANIRA.
My ill-boding heart!
Yet let me summon—

DEMOPHON.
Summon all thy powers,
For thou need'st all, at this tremendous trial,
Unhappy queen!—that sacrilegious villain
Dispatched a ruffian, with a secret dagger,
T'assassinate thy Hyllus.

DEIANIRA.
Crowd not round—
Lend not your cruel aid to hold me on
The rack of life,—why should I live to weep
My son, my murder'd son!


78

MACARIA.
Do all our hopes,
Our flattering hopes, end thus!—oh, Hyllus, Hyllus!

DEMOPHON.
Dispatch a herald—

ACAMAS.
Acamas shall be
Himself the herald—hah, that trumpet speaks
Some fresh alarm—Eurystheus, on my life!
Urged by these curs'd distractions, with his troops
Invades the city!—Demophon, guard well
The royal charge.—Now, tyrant, face to face
Let us but meet; and Jove stand arbiter!
Mourn not, sweet maid. Thy brother I'll bring back
Alive; or come with him a breathless corse!

Enter an OFFICER.
ACAMAS.
Hah! from the camp thou com'st!—inform me, soldier—

OFFICER.
Eurystheus is no more!—beneath the arm
Of Hyllus—

DEIANIRA.
Lives my son!

MACARIA.
Speak, quickly speak,
Of my lov'd Hyllus!


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OFFICER.
From Alcander, lady,
A letter to Eurystheus was dispatched,
To storm th'Athenian camp, while Acamas
Was prisoner. This did Hyllus intercept.
When, the same moment, an assassin struck
A poniard at his breast. A hundred swords
Flamed forth at once; and dead beneath his feet
The baffled ruffian sunk.

DEIANIRA and MACARIA.
Thanks, gracious powers!

ACAMAS.
Proceed, proceed—

OFFICER.
The troops, with fury fired,
At such black perfidy, with general voice
Called upon Hyllus, Hyllus, to lead on,
And charge Eurystheus' tent. Right on they marched,
Led by the gallant prince; and with a shout
Made a full charge. Eurystheus, at the head
Of his own guards, advanced: the leaders met;
They fought; and Hyllus with a noble blow
Cleaved the pale tyrant's helm. To earth he fell,
And groaned away his soul.

ACAMAS.
The royal trumpet
[a trumpet sounds.
Speaks the young hero's entry.—Lo, with wreaths
Of conquest crowned, Alcides' godlike son
Triumphantly approaches.


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Enter HYLLUS, with a coronet; attended by Officers.
HYLLUS.
Give me way—
Oh, I come not too late. Macaria lives!
And Deianira lives!

DEIANIRA.
My conqueror!

MACARIA.
My Hyllus!

IOLAUS.
My loved master!

DEMOPHON.
But, alas,
Thy garment!—ah, thy garment smeared with blood!—

HYLLUS.
It is Eurystheus' blood. I slew the tyrant.
And here his regal coronet present,
A trophy to my mother. All his troops,
Who hated, as they feared him, dropt their arms,
When they beheld my falchion in his breast,
And hailed the son of Hercules their king.

DEIANIRA.
Transporting sounds to Deianira's ears!
Who mourned her son a victim to th'assassin,
Sent by the villain, who lyes breathless there,
Slain by that prince's hand.


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HYLLUS.
The ruffian met
A fate too honourable: but he's dead;
And with him die resentment.

DEMOPHON.
Generous prince!
Whose nobleness of mind with wonder strikes me;
With wonder and with shame. Yes, I have been
Too credulous. My crime before me stands
A dreadful warning, ne'er with human blood
To stain religion's altars.

HYLLUS.
From this moment,
We are firm friends: and now 'tis double joy,
With my own hand to have preserved your son.
—But oh, my more than friend! my Acamas!
How shall my full heart pay th'eternal debt,
That gratitude owes thee!

ACAMAS.
Macaria lives!
I saved Macaria's life. I'm more than paid.

DEIANIRA.
Not till she hath enrich'd thee with herself.
Take then, protector of her life and mine!
From a fond mother's hand, that freely gives,
Oh take the daughter of my soul!

HYLLUS.
A maid,
Forgive a brother's boast! unparalleled
In every virtuous grace. A gem she is,

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Brighter than glitters in the diadem
Thou placest on my brow. Take her; she's thine.
And thus united, share with me my throne,
Thy friendship's noble gift.

DEIANIRA.
God of our fathers!
Who from th'abyss of misery, in a moment,
Up to a heaven of happiness canst lift
Poor mortals; what a change incredible
Hath this day wrought!—the rude repinings pardon
Of a rash woman! questioning thy just,
Thy fatherly corrections; which dissolve,
When the sharp season of probation's past,
Like fostering dews, in mercies on mankind.

[Exeunt.
END OF THE FIFTH ACT.