 | Timanthes |  |
SCENE An open part of the city.
Enter Timanthes and Mathusius.
MATHUSIUS.
And canst thou then partake Mathusius' fortune,
A willing exile from thy father's kingdom?
Think, think, my son, when thou shalt wander hence,
An obscure fugitive, will then Ismena,
With chaste endearments, from thy mind erase
Remembrance of the prince? Will not the phantom
Of royalty still haunt thy lonely hours?
Wilt thou not then regret paternal wealth
Abandon'd, and a scepter lost?
TIMANTHES.
No more—
My wife and son are dearer far than all:
Each other good has no intrinsic worth;
Opinion makes it great; the tender feelings
Of father, husband, are not bred by custom,
Or early thoughts instill'd from infancy:
The seeds are in ourselves, are with us born,
Grow with our life, and but with life expire.
MATHUSIUS.
But how to set her free? Is she not now
Encompass'd by Demophoon's guards?
TIMANTHES.
The care
Be mine to elude their utmost vigilance:
Assisted by some chosen friends, I'll bear
Ismena safe from danger.
MATHUSIUS.
Mighty powers!
Direct our flight—each moment that detains us
I'm on the rack of doubt—O! prince, remember
To thee alone I trust my all, my last
Remains of ebbing life.
TIMANTHES.
Haste then, Mathusius,
Ascend thy bark, and near yon rocks, that rise
Right of the port, expect my coming, thither
With all the speed of love I'll bear Ismena!—
[Exeunt severally.
SCENE, a view of an arch leading from the city, through which the procession for the sacrifice appears; first the guards, who range themselves on each side the stage; then a train of priests and virgins: Ismena, in white vestments, supported by two virgins, advances towards the front of the stage, while the following words are sung; the Music composed by Mr. Arnold.
Chorus.
Hail God of light! whose chearing ray
Dispels the gloom, reveals the day,
And glads the universe with all-creating sway!
SONG, by a Priest.
To him the pow'r, whose awful will
Trembling mortals must fulfill,
To him the dreadful altar rear,
And swell the notes till Phœbus hear!
Chorus.
Phœbus hear!
SONG, by a Virgin.
to Ism.
Sad victim! learn the stroke to brave
That renders Heav'n the life it gave,
And sheds thy blood a land to save!
Chorus.
Hear and save!
ISMENA.
Yet, yet, Ismena, drain the bitter dregs
Of sorrow's cup—but some few painful moments
And all may then be well!—each step I tread
Leads me still nearer to the fated land
Where I shall rest in peace—but, O! support
My fainting sense—'tis he! what adverse power
Directs him hither, in this hour of terror,
To shake my firm resolves!
Enter Timanthes.
TIMANTHES.
Eyes! can it be!
Ismena, speak—what means this dreadful pomp!
ISMENA.
At length 'tis past, and ruthless death demands
Its victim—yes, Timanthes, we must part,
Demophoon has decreed my fate—even now
These ministers of heaven receiv'd the mandate.
My soul seem'd more than half releas'd, but thou
Hast call'd her back to life—this meeting wakes
A thousand tender thoughts—
TIMANTHES.
Cease, cease, Ismena,
It wakes distraction—shall I thus behold thee
Torn from my hopes—no first—
ISMENA.
Alas! what means
Timanthes—
TIMANTHES.
Never whilst I live, this sword
That oft has mow'd my way thro' sanguine fields,
Shall sleep inglorious—
[lays his hand on his sword.
ISMENA.
Ah! what wild despair
Unmans thy better sense—thou wilt but rush
On certain ruin, nor preserve my life.
TIMANTHES.
It shall be so—farewell!
[going.
ISMENA.
Some dreadful purpose
Hangs on thy brow—yet hear me—
TIMANTHES.
Fate cuts short
Each precious moment—still I can command
A few but trusty friends, whose blood will flow
For their Timanthes—go then—seek the temple,
I'll save thee yet or die!
ISMENA.
Forbid it, heaven!
Be calm again—
TIMANTHES.
Be calm!—Impossible!
Is there a power on earth—let ruin come,
If midst the wreck one treasure still is mine!
[Exit.
Ismena
, Priests, Virgins, and Guards.
Forbear—he heeds me not—Eternal powers!
Preserve him still—for me, my mind has fix'd
Its last resolve—'tis death, and death alone
Shall quickly close the scene, and ere the priest
Strike in my breast the consecrated steel,
This dagger shall prevent the unhallow'd offering!
So shall I fall a spotless wife, nor stain
The sacred altar with forbidden blood!
Yet hear me, Phœbus, still defend Timanthes,
And guard him 'midst this whirlwind of the soul!
Enter Cephisa and Attendant.
CEPHISA.
Look, look, Clemene, view a sight to move
The breast that never felt the touch of sorrow:
Behold yon' maid, this day decreed to death,
Yet, midst this awful pomp, see with what grace
She moves, while fortitude and beauty join'd,
Proclaim her more than woman—but observe,
She sees us and approaches.
ISMENA.
Pardon, princess,
But if I err not I behold Cephisa.
CEPHISA.
I am indeed Cephisa.
ISMENA.
Fame that speaks
Thy virtues, tells me, that affliction never
Will pass unpity'd by thy tender breast.
CEPHISA.
My sympathizing heart!—Unhappy maid!
What would'st thou? speak.
ISMENA.
The fortune of Ismena
Who has not known? my life will soon have run
Its race of grief, this pomp proclaims me near
The wish'd-for goal, where the freed soul shall leave
Her cumberous chains—I go prepar'd to die,
Nor deprecate my fate—not for myself
I plead, but for the poor distress'd Timanthes!
To guard my life he courts his own destruction:
If e'er th'intreaties of the dying move,
Still let him find in you a kind protectress,
Prevent his rage, or O! procure his pardon
For all the frantic deeds of wild despair.
CEPHISA.
Ill-fated virgin! canst thou, with the shade
Of cruel death already compass'd round,
Forgetful of thyself, in generous care,
Dwell on another's safety.
ISMENA.
Search not, princess,
Too deep my bosom's woe—but if thy goodness
Shall mediate with the king—to avert those evils
Whose only fear now weighs me down to earth,
The blessings of a wretch, whose latest breath
By thee shall leave its care-worn breast in peace,
Attend thy gentle steps!
CEPHISA.
Doubt not, Ismena,
But every good Cephisa can obtain,
Shall sooth thy parting hour—I'll seek Cherinthus,
He, with a brother's warmest tenderest zeal,
Shall calm the ungovern'd fury of Timanthes,
While I, on his behalf, intreat the king.
ISMENA.
Then all is well—and now I've not a thought
That here detains my flight—farewell! for ever—
And every happiness to me deny'd,
Be doubled on thy head—lead to the temple.
[Exeunt Cephisa and Attendant.
Recitative by a PRIEST.
Now slowly lead the solemn train
To reach the grove and hallow'd fane!
Here Ismena falls again into the order of procession, while the priests and virgins sing the following Chorus, as they go out:
Chorus.
Phœbus, to thee our choral hymn we raise,
Each year the land this sad oblation pays;
O! save at length—descend with healing grace,
And from thy scourge relieve unhappy Thrace!
[Exeunt.
Enter Timanthes and Mathusius.
MATHUSIUS.
And canst thou then partake Mathusius' fortune,
A willing exile from thy father's kingdom?
Think, think, my son, when thou shalt wander hence,
An obscure fugitive, will then Ismena,
With chaste endearments, from thy mind erase
Remembrance of the prince? Will not the phantom
Of royalty still haunt thy lonely hours?
Wilt thou not then regret paternal wealth
Abandon'd, and a scepter lost?
TIMANTHES.
No more—
My wife and son are dearer far than all:
Each other good has no intrinsic worth;
Opinion makes it great; the tender feelings
Of father, husband, are not bred by custom,
Or early thoughts instill'd from infancy:
The seeds are in ourselves, are with us born,
Grow with our life, and but with life expire.
MATHUSIUS.
But how to set her free? Is she not now
Encompass'd by Demophoon's guards?
TIMANTHES.
The care
Be mine to elude their utmost vigilance:
Assisted by some chosen friends, I'll bear
Ismena safe from danger.
39
Mighty powers!
Direct our flight—each moment that detains us
I'm on the rack of doubt—O! prince, remember
To thee alone I trust my all, my last
Remains of ebbing life.
TIMANTHES.
Haste then, Mathusius,
Ascend thy bark, and near yon rocks, that rise
Right of the port, expect my coming, thither
With all the speed of love I'll bear Ismena!—
[Exeunt severally.
SCENE, a view of an arch leading from the city, through which the procession for the sacrifice appears; first the guards, who range themselves on each side the stage; then a train of priests and virgins: Ismena, in white vestments, supported by two virgins, advances towards the front of the stage, while the following words are sung; the Music composed by Mr. Arnold.
Chorus.
Hail God of light! whose chearing ray
Dispels the gloom, reveals the day,
And glads the universe with all-creating sway!
SONG, by a Priest.
To him the pow'r, whose awful will
Trembling mortals must fulfill,
To him the dreadful altar rear,
And swell the notes till Phœbus hear!
Chorus.
Phœbus hear!
40
to Ism.
Sad victim! learn the stroke to brave
That renders Heav'n the life it gave,
And sheds thy blood a land to save!
Chorus.
Hear and save!
ISMENA.
Yet, yet, Ismena, drain the bitter dregs
Of sorrow's cup—but some few painful moments
And all may then be well!—each step I tread
Leads me still nearer to the fated land
Where I shall rest in peace—but, O! support
My fainting sense—'tis he! what adverse power
Directs him hither, in this hour of terror,
To shake my firm resolves!
Enter Timanthes.
TIMANTHES.
Eyes! can it be!
Ismena, speak—what means this dreadful pomp!
ISMENA.
At length 'tis past, and ruthless death demands
Its victim—yes, Timanthes, we must part,
Demophoon has decreed my fate—even now
These ministers of heaven receiv'd the mandate.
My soul seem'd more than half releas'd, but thou
Hast call'd her back to life—this meeting wakes
A thousand tender thoughts—
TIMANTHES.
Cease, cease, Ismena,
It wakes distraction—shall I thus behold thee
Torn from my hopes—no first—
41
Alas! what means
Timanthes—
TIMANTHES.
Never whilst I live, this sword
That oft has mow'd my way thro' sanguine fields,
Shall sleep inglorious—
[lays his hand on his sword.
ISMENA.
Ah! what wild despair
Unmans thy better sense—thou wilt but rush
On certain ruin, nor preserve my life.
TIMANTHES.
It shall be so—farewell!
[going.
ISMENA.
Some dreadful purpose
Hangs on thy brow—yet hear me—
TIMANTHES.
Fate cuts short
Each precious moment—still I can command
A few but trusty friends, whose blood will flow
For their Timanthes—go then—seek the temple,
I'll save thee yet or die!
ISMENA.
Forbid it, heaven!
Be calm again—
TIMANTHES.
Be calm!—Impossible!
Is there a power on earth—let ruin come,
If midst the wreck one treasure still is mine!
[Exit.
Ismena
, Priests, Virgins, and Guards.
Forbear—he heeds me not—Eternal powers!
Preserve him still—for me, my mind has fix'd
42
Shall quickly close the scene, and ere the priest
Strike in my breast the consecrated steel,
This dagger shall prevent the unhallow'd offering!
So shall I fall a spotless wife, nor stain
The sacred altar with forbidden blood!
Yet hear me, Phœbus, still defend Timanthes,
And guard him 'midst this whirlwind of the soul!
Enter Cephisa and Attendant.
CEPHISA.
Look, look, Clemene, view a sight to move
The breast that never felt the touch of sorrow:
Behold yon' maid, this day decreed to death,
Yet, midst this awful pomp, see with what grace
She moves, while fortitude and beauty join'd,
Proclaim her more than woman—but observe,
She sees us and approaches.
ISMENA.
Pardon, princess,
But if I err not I behold Cephisa.
CEPHISA.
I am indeed Cephisa.
ISMENA.
Fame that speaks
Thy virtues, tells me, that affliction never
Will pass unpity'd by thy tender breast.
CEPHISA.
My sympathizing heart!—Unhappy maid!
What would'st thou? speak.
ISMENA.
The fortune of Ismena
Who has not known? my life will soon have run
Its race of grief, this pomp proclaims me near
43
Her cumberous chains—I go prepar'd to die,
Nor deprecate my fate—not for myself
I plead, but for the poor distress'd Timanthes!
To guard my life he courts his own destruction:
If e'er th'intreaties of the dying move,
Still let him find in you a kind protectress,
Prevent his rage, or O! procure his pardon
For all the frantic deeds of wild despair.
CEPHISA.
Ill-fated virgin! canst thou, with the shade
Of cruel death already compass'd round,
Forgetful of thyself, in generous care,
Dwell on another's safety.
ISMENA.
Search not, princess,
Too deep my bosom's woe—but if thy goodness
Shall mediate with the king—to avert those evils
Whose only fear now weighs me down to earth,
The blessings of a wretch, whose latest breath
By thee shall leave its care-worn breast in peace,
Attend thy gentle steps!
CEPHISA.
Doubt not, Ismena,
But every good Cephisa can obtain,
Shall sooth thy parting hour—I'll seek Cherinthus,
He, with a brother's warmest tenderest zeal,
Shall calm the ungovern'd fury of Timanthes,
While I, on his behalf, intreat the king.
ISMENA.
Then all is well—and now I've not a thought
That here detains my flight—farewell! for ever—
44
Be doubled on thy head—lead to the temple.
[Exeunt Cephisa and Attendant.
Recitative by a PRIEST.
Now slowly lead the solemn train
To reach the grove and hallow'd fane!
Here Ismena falls again into the order of procession, while the priests and virgins sing the following Chorus, as they go out:
Chorus.
Phœbus, to thee our choral hymn we raise,
Each year the land this sad oblation pays;
O! save at length—descend with healing grace,
And from thy scourge relieve unhappy Thrace!
[Exeunt.
| Timanthes | |