University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE, the Catacombs.
SERAPHIS.
This is the house of death! The dreary tomb
Of Egypt's ancient kings! What now remains
Of all their glory, but these mould'ring piles,
And these imperfect, mutilated forms
Of what they were? The period of my fate
Will soon be clos'd. An undistinguish'd blank,
Perhaps succeeds. What then? To know it not,
Is not to be unhappy. Yet the soul
Looks thro' the gloomy portal of the grave,
To happier scenes of immortality.
O let not such a pleasing hope be vain!
Eternity, thou awful gulph of time,
This wide creation on thy surface floats.
Of life—of death—what is, or what shall be,
I nothing know. The world is all a dream,
The consciousness of something that exists,
Yet is not what it seems. Then what am I?
Death must unfold the mystery!

Enter OTANES.
OTANES.
My king!

SERAPHIS.
My friend, Otanes.

OTANES.
Still misfortune pours
Her storms upon us. What remains?

SERAPHIS.
To die!

OTANES.
Be that the last resource of our despair.
Some friends surround us.

SERAPHIS.
Vain are all our hopes.
When, in full sail, conspiracy receives
An unexpected shock, it splits, it sinks,
To rise no more!

OTANES.
Tho' death has thin'd our ranks,
Thousands remain.

SERAPHIS.
Those lions, that had broke
Their chains to range at large, now trembling, hear
Their keeper's voice; and diffident of strength,
Crouch to the lash. My hopes are all cut off
In Menes. O had I beheld my son!

OTANES.
(aside.)
'Tis well. He knows not that he has no son.
Orus has nought disclos'd. His state requires
The secret shou'd be kept.—He still survives,
[To Seraphis.
Like the immortal spirit of a storm,
Who stirs with joy the elements to war,
And strides amidst the ruin!

SERAPHIS.
Still a ray
Of joy descends on my departing hour.
My son displays the spirit of his race,
Still braves his adverse fortune, and pursues
A glorious death, while we stand loitering here
To meet the most ignoble.
Otanes, let us hence, and meet the fate
That best becomes our dignity and fame.

OTANES.
Dispose of me; and yet our post is strong;
Thro' Memphis, thousands will assert thy cause
And hasten to thy rescue.

SERAPHIS.
Shall a king!
The race of heroes, honour'd as divine,
Be dragg'd in fetters, thro' a scoffing croud;
Cast in some filthy dungeon, there to die
Of rage, or lengthen'd torture, or indulg'd
To fall by base assassins? Much I owe
To thee, Otanes, for thy loyalty;
Thy firm adherence to a failing cause;
Thy care of Menes, in his tender years;
Yet all hath prov'd in vain. My wayward fate
Involves my friends in ruin.

OTANES.
I have done
No more than duty and the state requir'd,
And should I fall, I fall in the support
Of justice. 'Tis the noblest fate of man!

[Noise without.
SERAPHIS.
Our foes advance. Let me have done with doubt.
I must not be the last to meet my death;
As if I fear'd to quench the ling'ring flame
Of an expiring life.

OTANES.
I will explore
The cause of this alarm
[Exit Otanes.

SERAPHIS.
(Noise continues.)
My fame receives
A wound, at every stroke. The time has been,
When I could bear my armour with more ease.
Nor seem'd this sword so heavy in my hand.
But tho' my body feels the frost of age,
When danger threatens, or when glory calls,
Some youthful vigor still inspires my soul.

[going.
Re-enter OTANES.
OTANES.
Our efforts all are vain; the foe has seiz'd
The gate, and rushes on us! 'Tis too late!

SERAPHIS.
Otanes, no! 'Tis ne'er too late to die,
But when we live to shame. One last resource
Remains to man, when fortune frowns the most,
One general refuge from the ills of life.
My remedy I grasp. This faithful friend
Shall set me free.

(offers to stab himself.
OTANES.
O stop thy frantic hand.
What means my lord, my king?

Enter MYRTÆUS with his party, who disarm him.
MYRTÆUS.
(To Seraphis.)
So old a traitor must not thus escape.
Another death awaits.—Ha! who art thou?

SERAPHIS.
The king of Egypt! Seraphis!

MYRTÆUS.
So great,
So bold, and so unfortunate! My eyes
Belye my recollection, if to me
Thou art not known, by a much dearer name,
Tho' not so lofty. Pheron!

SERAPHIS.
Thou art not
Deceiv'd.

MYRTÆUS.
Thus on my knees let me embrace
Those holy feet, that led me to thy cave,
And sav'd my life, from famine and the foe,
When banish'd to the desart.

SERAPHIS.
Rise, Myrtæus!
I well remember thee in thy distress,
Thou seest me now in mine.

MYRTÆUS.
And thus my heart
Speaks gratitude.—The life thy bounty sav'd,
The light thy dictates pour'd upon my soul,
Are now at thy command. Forgive the past,
And trust my future conduct. Whilst I thought
That fate had number'd thee among the dead,
I yielded to the pressure of the times,
And bow'd to Amasis. But now thou liv'st,
I mean to serve thee, with a zealous heart,
As my protector and my lawful king.

SERAPHIS.
My noble friend! I fear thy valour now
Will nought avail. Our troops are all dispers'd,
And Memphis pours her armies round the throne
Of the usurper. All our hope is flight.

MYRTÆUS.
It must not be. Should'st thou desert our walls
Thy cause is ruin'd. Here thy name alone
Is more than armies. The command I bear
Is great. My late discovery of the plot,
Gives Amasis unbounded confidence
In my affections. Here thou may'st be safe,
Conceal'd within the cave? whilst I attempt,
By promises and arguments, to draw
The troops from their allegiance. Thou, Otanes,
Safe in my conduct may'st instruct thy friends
That range without a leader, where to meet
And wait my further orders, to renew
The daring enterprize.

SERAPHIS.
Thou counsel'st well;
The bold succeed the best. 'Tis now no time
To play a game of caution. Fortune loves
Her ravisher. We must not fear her frowns,
But bind her to our purpose.

BOTH.
We obey.

[Exeunt.
SERAPHIS
, alone.
My hope once more emerges from the cloud
Of my distress. The moment that appear'd
Charg'd with the execution of my fate,
Brought safety. Ha! I hear the tread of feet
This way approach. Perhaps it is the foe.
Here in the dark recesses of the cave,
I will be safe.

(Goes into the tomb.
Enter SETHONA.
SETHONA.
Is this th'appointed place? No friends are here,
But my departed ancestors, that seem
To becken me to their eternal rest!
O Menes, Menes! Wherefore wouldst thou rush
Amidst the foe, nor suffer me to share
Thy danger and thy death. How dreadful seems
This moment of suspence? But hark! A groan!
I fear to listen. These dim lamps expire!
I shall be left in darkness! Something stirs,
Within the cave! Who 'ere thou art, appear—
It comes! Art thou the living or the dead?
Substantial form or mock'ry of the brain?
Why mov'st thou thus in silence?

Enter SERAPHIS,
SERAPHIS.
Let not fear—

SETHONA.
Approach me not!—Who art thou?

SERAPHIS.
I am he!
That gave thee life.

SETHONA.
My father, or my God?

SERAPHIS.
Thy father!

SETHONA.
Seraphis!

SERAPHIS.
The same; the same;
Come to my aged arms, my lovely child!

SETHONA.
My father!—O my father!

SERAPHIS.
Let not joy
O'erwhelm thy tender soul. Why dost thou weep?

SETHONA.
Alas! I know not why; yet think my tears,
Are not the tears of sorrow. Let me lean
Upon thee. Never did my head before,
Recline upon a father's breast.

SERAPHIS.
Perhaps,
It never may again.

SETHONA.
Short was my dream
Of joy. I wake and see a shoreless sea,
Of trouble round me.

SERAPHIS.
Still we grasp a reed
Of Egypt's broken strength. Does Menes live?

SETHONA.
His fate's uncertain! Striving to escape,
We met the foe. Conjuring me to fly,
He stopt and fought; though many were the swords,
That gleam'd around him.—If he lives some god
Must yield protection. But my fears—

SERAPHIS.
I owe
Much to his valour; though he knows me not.
Should I succeed, I mean to make him king.
If not, the grave will prove the whole extent
Of our dominions.

SETHONA.
Menes well deserves
The highest pitch of greatness, bears a soul,
That from its native ardour, still aspires
To that perfection, which enables man
To mix with the immortals. How my heart
Exults with joy, to hear my father thus
Approve my choice and sanctify my love.

SERAPHIS.
Thy choice! thy love! explain thy words—

SETHONA.
Alas!
Thy looks condemn me! yet, my heart declares
My innocence.

SERAPHIS.
I hope it does!

SETHONA.
My fears!
Again arise!—yet why should I deny
What I esteem my greatest happiness,
By love, by fate impell'd, I pledged my vows—

SERAPHIS.
To whom?—

SETHONA.
To Menes.

SERAPHIS.
Horror! fly my sight.

SETHONA.
What have I done to merit every woe,
The wrath of heav'n can pour upon my head?
Is he not worthy?

SERAPHIS.
Most unfit for thee.

SETHONA.
If I have fail'd in duty take my life;
And, with my blood, blot out my crime; nor thus
With words, more sharp than daggers, pierce my soul.

SERAPHIS.
I must unfold—

SETHONA.
Ha! what wouldst thou unfold?

SERAPHIS.
A dreadful secret, which thou ought'st to know.

SETHONA.
O tell me what it is—

SERAPHIS.
That Menes—

SETHONA.
What of Menes

SERAPHIS.
Is thy brother.
(Sethona faints.)
I've been too rash;
The time was most improper. Hark! what sound
Comes ecchoing through the tombs! Against the wall
I see the shadow of an armed man.
Revive, Sethona! O my child, revive!
I must convey her to my dark retreat.

(leads off Sethona.
Enter MENES.
MENES.
I saw some ruffian bear Sethona hence,
As if he were her murderer. Tenfold night,
The deepest grave, the mansions of the dead,
Shall not conceal—shall not defend—he dies!
He dies if he is mortal.
(rushes into the tomb.)
Who e'er thou art, come forth—

SERAPHIS.
Rash man, forbear!

SETHONA.
(within.)
O Menes! spare my father, spare the king—

MENES.
(re-entering.)
Forth to the light.

SERAPHIS.
Remorse pursues the deed.

MENES.
Who art thou?—

SERAPHIS.
Seraphis, the king, thy father.

MENES.
(throwing away his sword.)
The king! ye gods—thus prostrate at thy feet,
Let me implore forgiveness.

SERAPHIS.
Rise my son—
I do forgive thee. Come to my embrace.

Enter SETHONA. (from the cells.)
MENES.
(going to embrace her.)
She lives—she lives!

SETHONA.
Away! avoid my arm.

MENES.
What means Sethona? What has Menes done?
Thou dearest to my soul!—

SETHONA.
Speak not of love—

MENES.
Not speak of love!

SETHONA.
Thy father will explain—
Thou art—

MENES.
Thy husband. Seraphis approves;
And calls me son—

SERAPHIS.
(embracing him.)
My son indeed! my hope!

MENES.
Thou art too kind, what merit can discharge
This gratitude I feel? what words excuse
My love, that dar'd presumptuously to rise
To thy fair daughter? I had cause to fear
Thy high displeasure, but thou giv'st me all,
Without her there is nothing.—
(Noise without.)
Ha! behold,
The tyrant comes. My sword—

AMASIS and a party rush in.
ATTENDANT.
(taking up the sword of Menes.)
It now avails thee not.

AMASIS.
The gods are still
The friends of valour, none deserves to wear
A crown who can't defend it. In thy age
Attempts thou, what thy youth cou'd not perform?
We have a cell for hermits.

MENES.
Faithless man!
Dost thou exult in villainy?—'Tis not
Thy valour, but thy fortune that prevails;
And if thou dar'st to doubt it, render back
My sword and try thy courage, with my youth;
Nor meanly thus, with vaunting tongue, insult
The venerable dignity of age.

AMASIS.
Audacious traitor! Dost thou hope to fall
By royal hands? It is the task of slaves
To punish such as thee.

MENES.
Thy fears prevail.
Twice didst thou shun me in the ranks, withdraw
Behind the shields of braver men, who paid
The price of life to save thee.

AMASIS.
Bear him hence,
And let his burning frenzy cool in chains.
His tortures shall be equal to his crimes.

(guards seize Menes.
MENES.
Yes, bear me hence!—A coward ever finds
A subterfuge from danger. King of Egypt,
And thou fair mourner o'er a father's woes,
Farewel for ever!

SETHONA.
Yet a moment stay—
Behold my death—Relentless tyrant, here,
Here, plunge thy sword.—It was the lightnings flash,
(looks distractedly.)
The earth is rent, the wide abyss unfolds;
Deep, deep and raging.—Roll me in the skirt
Of that descending cloud! I see thee not—
O Menes! Seraphis! ye will not leave
Your poor Sethona!

MENES.
Tyrant! see—behold!
The ruin thou hast made.—The furies sleep!
The bolt has fall'n from the right hand of Jove.—
The voice of thunder is not heard in heav'n.
Farewel for ever!—Oh my king!—my love!
Bear me to death. The rack itself appears
A place of slumber. In the last extreme,
One object of ambition still remains
With the exalted mind—it is to die
With fortitude

(Menes is carried off.
AMASIS.
Be Seraphis secured;
And bear Sethona to our royal halls.

SETHONA.
Fear not the tyrant. Thou art Egypt's king.
They come! they come! Thy grey hairs will defend—
Thou seest them not—thy eyes are dim with age.
Raise not your bloody hands. Away, away!
Pity my father. He is weak and old—
They shall not kill thee, whilst I clasp thee thus—

(embracing Seraphis.
AMASIS.
Tear them asunder—

SERAPHIS.
Tyrant! though I meant
With just contempt, without a word or groan,
To bear thy utmost tortures, and support
With dignity, the rigour of my fate.
Yet thou hast found a way to make my heart
Pour forth its anguish. Hast thou no remorse,
Thus to oppress me with a father's grief?
Give me thy tortures, yet if justice dwells
Among the gods, the vengeance due to guilt,
Shall fall on thee.

AMASIS.
(to his Guards.)
Haste, force them from this place.

SERAPHIS,
Tyrant! the power is thine. But still I scorn
Thy utmost efforts. Come to my embrace,
My poor unhappy daughter—Now, farewell!

SETHONA.
Hold, cruel men! ye shall not tear me hence.
Leave me! they pull too hard. He is my father!
Alas, we part for ever!

SERAPHIS.
Child belov'd!
We part to meet again. Thy tender soul,
Already on the wing, prepares for flight.
Soon shalt thou join my spirit as it flies,
And leave behind thy anguish and thy woes.

[They are both carried off.]
AMASIS.
These rigours dire necessity demands.
But still, though wild ambition steels my heart,
I feel some pangs of nature at their grief.
Fool that I am!—Compassion to my foes
Is cruelty, perdition to myself!
This feeble fit is vanish'd with the scene,
And all the vigour of my soul returns.

[Exit.