University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SETHONA's Apartment.
Enter MENES.
MENES.
This secret path, which led me once to joy,
Now ministers to vengeance. From the fane
Unseen, unheard, I have emerg'd to light,
Like some disastrous pow'r on dark designs,
What doubt remains? O jealousy! I feel,
I feel thy serpent-tooth! Thou torturing fiend!
Thy rage some dreadful sacrifice demands.

Enter ORUS.
ORUS.
Menes, why tarry here? Our gallant friends,
Already met, now grasp their eager swords,
To free devoted Egypt. Thee they call
To lead them on.

MENES.
Away, I claim no aid
To favour my revenge: No tedious forms
Of war, or slow conspiracy. My wrongs
Arise, like armies, round me. This my sword
Shall quickly dash the tyrant's hopes of joy.

ORUS.
What frenzy fires thy mind, when thousands wait
To join their valour and their hopes with thine?

MENES.
Whilst they prepare, my purpose must be lost,
The tyrant triumphs in Sethona's love.
My swelling soul some enterprise demands,
Great with uncommon danger, longs to rush,
And pour the tyrant's blood around his throne.

ORUS.
Some demon, hostile to our cause, inspires
Thy frantic mind to ruin all our hopes;
To quit the certain prospect of revenge,
And give Sethona to the tyrant's arms.

MENES.
Ha! name her not. To thee I owe my life.
Oh! shew me now the noblest path to death.
Preserve my fame—myself thou must not save.

ORUS.
Then join thy friends. It is the noblest path
To fame, the surest to obtain revenge.
Lead on the war. Let conduct be combin'd
With valour. Amasis, tho' unprepar'd,
Has great resources in his active breast,
And fortitude approv'd.

MENES.
The boldest course
To vengeance is the best. The glorious shock
Of arms, to which thy cooler counsel leads,
Is suited to my soul. I'll join our friends,
And lead the battle, 'till these lofty towers,
These palaces, these temples of the gods,
Shall mark the greatness of my rage with ruin.
[Exit Menes

ORUS.
As yet an hour remains. The nuptial rites
Are not begun. I fear his headlong rage
Will drive him on, e'er the appointed time,
E'er all our friends, like long imprison'd winds,
At once from different quarters, rushing forth
Begin destruction. Ha! what aged form
Moves slowly hither? Do my eyes deceive?
Or is it Seraphis? Defend him, gods!
Enter SERAPHIS.
O king, beware! Alas, what weighty cause
Provokes this danger?

SERAPHIS.
Shall my only hope
Be thus dishonour'd? Shall she meanly stoop
To wed the base usurper of my throne?
No: rather let destruction whelm our house,
And leave no monument of their disgrace
In Egypt.

ORUS.
Seraphis, thy friends are arm'd.
The nuptials must proceed. The festive hour
Will favour our designs, and banish thought
From the pervading mind of Amasis.
Menes advances. On his sword depends
At once our fortune, and thy daughter's fate.
Retire to safety.

SERAPHIS.
Yet this very hour,
Perhaps this moment, hurries her along
To foul dishonour. Shall I offer up
So fair a victim, for a doubtful point
Of policy? like some devoted prey,
Shall she be thus deserted, to allure
The savage to our toils? shall not my eyes
Behold her, e'er the busy hand of death,
May close them up for ever?

ORUS.
Yet my fears.
Should Amasis—

SERAPHIS.
No danger shall withhold
My steps from where my honour, where my fame
Demand my presence. In this low disguise,
This sacred character, that finds access
Unquestion'd to the privacy of kings,
I will approach Sethona, will preserve
My child from Amasis, and stand prepar'd
To join my friends, when their victorious arms
Approach.

ORUS.
All ye gods, preserve,
Protect my sovereign! I will soon convey
Thy high commands to Menes.
[Exit Orus.

SERAPHIS.
Guide my steps,
Thou great Osiris!

Enter SETHONA.
SETHONA.
Lost! I am betray'd,
Press'd to the verge of ruin, cover'd o'er
With guilt, with shame, with horror, with remorse,
Deserted, sunk, forlorn!

SERAPHIS.
(aside.)
It is my child!
My daughter!

SETHONA.
Wherefore do I drag this life
Of misery, as if I fear'd to die;
Or that the deep dark mansions of the grave
Cou'd not afford a refuge from my woes.
I will not tarry here. Ha! who art thou?

SERAPHIS.
(aside.)
This bosom tells me—

SETHONA.
Venerable sage!
Intrude not on my sorrows. Now I hold
No converse, or with wisdom or the wise,
Despair and terror, solitude and grief,
Are my companions.

(going.
SERAPHIS.
Yet with patience hear—

SETHONA.
Who talks of patience in the ear of grief?
But recommends the good we cannot find.
Ah! whither shall I fly? Who can protect
My innocence?

SERAPHIS.
The gods.

SETHONA.
The gods, alas!
Have left me to my woes.

SERAPHIS.
Art thou not soon
To be a queen?

SETHONA.
To be no more.

SERAPHIS.
Alas!
I dare not blame thee.

SETHONA.
Wherefore dost thou weep?
The scourge of years, thro' this detested world,
Has not depriv'd thy tender heart of pity.

SERAPHIS.
Too much I feel.

SETHONA.
Does not thy age afford
A refuge from affliction?

SERAPHIS.
None. These hairs
Have long been whitening in the winds of heav'n.
Yet now I bend beneath a load of care,
That still augmenting sinks me to the grave.

SETHONA.
O, could I give thee comfort.—Thou art poor.
Fortune has left me nothing.

SERAPHIS.
Yet on thee
My only hope depends.

SETHONA.
Take, take my all,
My pity—

SERAPHIS.
'Tis too much—give me thy hand
That I may bless thee. All ye gracious powers,
Look down!—

SETHONA.
Thou good old man, why thus partake
In my affliction? Wherefore gaze upon me?

SERAPHIS.
Such was thy mother's beauty in her prime.

SETHONA.
My mother!

SERAPHIS.
Yes—thy mother!

SETHONA.
Didst thou know
The queen of Egypt?

SERAPHIS.
Ah! this bosom still
Retains her image.

SETHONA.
In thy poverty,
I might have read our fortune. Thou hast serv'd
My father to thy ruin!

SERAPHIS.
Can'st thou fold
A secret in thy breast?

SETHONA.
A secret!

SERAPHIS.
Yes.
Call forth thy resolution.

SETHONA.
Ha! What strong
Emotions swell thy breast?

SERAPHIS.
My heart will burst.

SETHONA.
Why dost thou tremble?

SERAPHIS.
All my strength has fail'd.

SETHONA.
The weight of years is on thee. Small my strength,
Yet thou shall be supported, poor old man!

SERAPHIS.
Come to my arms, thou dearest to my soul,
I am—

SETHONA.
Who art thou? Speak!—

SERAPHIS.
It is too late.

(Flourish.
SETOHNA.
Unfold thyself.—Thou shalt not thus depart.

Enter AMASIS and OTANES.
AMASIS.
Sethona, still in tears? Why this delay?
With whom dost thou so earnestly confer?
Who and from whence art thou?

OTANES.
Distraction! ruin!
(aside.
His name is Pheron.

AMASIS.
Some divining priest,
Charg'd with false oracles.

SETHONA.
Upbraid him not,
His only crime is poverty, which throws,
In such a venerable form, reproach
On thee and fortune. Pheron I wou'd speak
With thee in secret.

AMASIS.
When the god of love
Is hovering o'er the altar, and prepares
To crown our vows with joy? Lead on.

SETHONA.
In vain
Thou striv'st to bear me hence. My soul is mov'd
By this unhappy stranger. He has serv'd
My father. Pheron, tell me all thy tale.

OTANES.
He may attend to-morrow—

SETHONA.
No, Otanes!
A virtuous deed should never be delay'd.
The impulse comes from heav'n, and he who strives
A moment to repress it, disobeys
The god within the mind.

SERAPAIS.
Now, bent with age,
And creeping to my grave, my wants are few,
But not the less my gratitude.—To me,
My own reflections prove a full reward,
For all the good that threescore years and ten,
Have put within my power; nor do my crimes
Darken my eve of life.

AMASIS.
From whence art thou?

SERAPHIS.
That day on which inconstant fortune fled
The standard of the king, wedg'd in the flight
Of an inglorious squadron, I was borne
Unwillingly from death.—The burning climes
Of Ethiopia have been since my home;
At length desirous of a quiet grave
Among my kindred, in my native land,
I ventur'd to return, and now resign
Myself with joys to the decrees of heav'n.

AMASIS.
His looks appear familiar to my eyes,
Nor seems his voice unknown.

SERAPHIS.
In former times,
I was not here a stranger.

OTANES.
(aside.)
Now my fears
Press hard upon me—Gods!

AMASIS.
Art thou not sent
From th'Ethiopian camp, to spy the state
Of Memphis?

SETHONA.
Nothing wounds an honest mind,
Like undeserv'd suspicion.

AMASIS.
He recals
The memory of thy father.

OTANES.
All is lost!

(aside.
SETHONA.
The memory of my father! let me trace,
Those venerable features that recal
The sad remembrance of the best of kings.

AMASIS.
Thousands beheld him sinking in the Nile,
And yet I could suspect—

Enter MYRTÆUS. (hastily.)
MYRTÆUS.
O king, thy slave
Has an important secret for thine ear.

AMASIS.
Thou shalt be heard—Otanes, lead him hence,
In secret question him, and search his soul.

[Exit.
SETHONA.
(to Otanes.)
Befriend the hapless. To the ag'd be kind.
Pity demands of thee, with double claim,
To save this guiltless stranger from his foes.

[Exit.
AMASIS.
(advancing with Myrtæus.)
Speak, brave Myrtæus!

MYRTÆUS.
A conspiracy,
This hour is form'd against thy crown and life.
While yet I speak they come.

AMASIS.
Ha! who are these
Who league with Ethiopia? Dare the slaves
Whom favour rais'd, rebel against their Lord?

MYRTÆUS.
The dark design, in partial whispers came
This instant to mine ear.—Some daring chiefs
Are arming round the palace, and conspire
To place some other sovereign on the throne.

AMASIS.
Haste, rouse the strength of Memphis. Let our guards
Be chang'd; the traitors seiz'd; the gates secur'd;
A chosen squadron of our bravest troops
Reserv'd to guard us.

MYRTÆUS.
'Tis already done.

Enter an OFFICER.
OFFICER.
To arms, to arms! the foes already shake
The pow'r of Memphis, bear our squadrons down,
And now advance, with Menes at their head.

AMASIS.
What force remains?

OFFICER.
Some troops are still in arms.

AMASIS.
And so is Amasis. We lead them on.

[Exit.
Enter SETHONA.
(Thunder and shouts at a distance.)
SETHONA.
O what a night of horror! now the moon
Is darkn'd in eclipse. The air is fill'd
With streaming meteors. Murm'ring thunder rolls.
The broad firm earth shakes with the tread of hosts,
That murder in the dark. The groans of death
Roll on the winds of heaven. Ye gods, look down,
Protect our cause! Let Menes' sword prevail
(shouts increase.)
Again! It is the storm of war and death!
Who can survive the conflict?

Enter ORUS. (in terror.)
ORUS.
All is lost!

SETHONA.
Speak; tell me all!

ORUS.
Our friends retreat:

SETHONA.
Alas!

ORUS.
I fear, I fear, the aged king is slain!

SETHONA.
What aged king?

ORUS.
Thy father, Seraphis!

SETHONA.
My father! Whether does thy frenzy lead,
To tell me now, what many years have told?

ORUS.
This very instant he led on the war.

SETHONA.
Thy fears distract thee!

ORUS.
Yes, my fears are great,
But I possess my reason. Seraphis,
Thy father, liv'd amid the strife of arms,
This hour, in Memphis. Long he lay conceal'd
In Ethiopia, thence of late return'd
In poverty's disguise, to fall, in age,
By the victorious arms of Amasis.

SETHONA.
Is nature chang'd? Or do my senses stray
In the wild mazes of a troubled dream,
Where all is wonder? Woe succeds to woe!
The dead mix with the living, and the work
Of years is crouded in a single hour:
It cannot be! Alas, too sure I wake!
O that I now could sleep to wake no more!

ORUS.
Ye gods of Egypt, soothe her mind to peace!

SETHONA.
The aged hermit was the king himself!
My father Seraphis! O had I known
That, on my knees I might have kiss'd his feet,
And have receiv'd the blessing of a parent.
All—all is silent—Menes too has fall'n!
My fate is dark around me. Farewel, Orus.
[Exit Orus.
Forsaken, unprepar'd, weary of life,
Oppress'd with woes, above my failing strength,
My limbs will not support me. O'er my eyes
A cloud of darkness falls. The hated world
Fades on my sight. The clay-cold hand of death
Is heavy on my heart. Here let me rest,
(falls on a couch.
And take my leave of sorrow. Sacred light!
Ah! whether dost thou fly! Depart, ye shades,
Croud not upon my soul!

(faints.
Enter MENES.
MENES.
My coward friends are fled. Dishonour, shame,
And ruin follow them. Ha! there she lies!
She seems to sleep. Despair, revenge, inspire
My soul with deadly rage. Do odours breathe
From such a poisonous plant? Does innocence
Pour divine radiance on the face of guilt?
She smiles! She dreams of joy! I'll turn aside
My eyes, least courage fail. I cannot err—
O that the deed were done!—
My hand shakes, my limbs totter, the warm blood
Already streams upon me. At my heart,
I feel the dagger's point. Horrid revenge!
Give, give me resolution.

SETHONA.
(recovers.)
Menes! Ha!
A dagger—strike!—

MENES.
Call—call not back to light
These sinking furies.

SETHONA.
In those deadly frowns,
Those looks of horror, I perceive my fate;
Thy adverse fortune. Amasis prevails.
Strike. Save my honour, and thy own.

MENES.
Thy honour!

SETHONA.
Now I am lost indeed! Let thy revenge,
Thy rage, have scope. I have deserv'd it all!

MENES.
Dost thou repent!

SETHONA.
Alas! the gods themselves
Can grant me nothing, when condemn'd by thee;
Then give me death.

MENES.
What! didst thou not consent
To wed the tyrant?

SETHONA.
Ha! to wed the tyrant?
Could'st thou suspect me of that base design?
Alas, I've lov'd in vain! To save thy life,
I feign'd submission to the tyrant's will;
My purpose gain'd, I meant to lose my own.

MENES.
(throws away the dagger, and kneels.)
O that my death could half redress thy wrongs!
Throw, spurn me from thy feet! my guilt, my crimes,
Exceeds forgiveness! horror, rage, remorse,
Torment a wretch, unworthy to possess
Virtue, that seems to emulate the gods!

SETHONA.
Menes, arise! I know thou wert deceiv'd!

MENES.
Dost thou embrace me?

SETHONA.
Never more to part.

MENES.
No, never more! Then let me lead thee hence,
Through the loud tumult of this fatal night,
To the dark caves of death; those dreary cells,
Where Egypt's monarchs lie. There all our friends
Retreat for safety.

SETHONA.
I will follow thee,
As if the gods of Egypt led the way.
Protected by thy arm, I know no fear;
But where thou art not, terror whelms my soul.