University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE, The palace.
Enter Adrastus and Orcanes.
ORCANES.
Timanthes is arriv'd.

ADRASTUS.
The setting sun
Gilds his returning ensigns.—Great Demophoon
Prepares to welcome home his conquering son,
And meet him with a father's love.

ORCANES.
And yet
Amidst this hour of triumph, sorrow clouds
The splendor of a victor's arms: this eve
Fore-runs a day of sad solemnity.

ADRASTUS.
Orcanes, yes—that sun, whose chearful light
Smiles on the harmless swain, that piping leads
His flock to fold, must, ere to-morrow's noon,
Behold his altar stain'd with guiltless blood.
Thou know'st long since the oracle requir'd
A virgin's life in annual sacrifice;
And every year, on this returning day,
In solemn rites our weeping Thrace gives up
The melancholy victim.

ORCANES.
Have the priests
Receiv'd the virgins yet, whose names must stand
To-morrow's dreadful chance?

ADRASTUS.
Not yet—and thence
I fear new evils may arise: 'tis whisper'd,
I know not what, of something that portends
Contest and tumult to the state: Mathusius,
The hoary chief, beneath whose softering care
Our young Timanthes learn'd the trade of war,
Grown old in toils, an alien to the court,
Now lives sequester'd, since the king displeas'd
Recall'd him from command, and in his stead
Left his brave son to guide the Thracian files:
Retir'd he dwells, where on the city's skirts
The sea in tempests breaks; or where, in calms,
Its glassy waves reflect the trembling towers;
With him resides his daughter fair Ismena.

ORCANES.
The coldness 'twixt Demophoon and Mathusius
Has reach'd the public notice; born to shine
In camps alone, Mathusius has not learnt
The soft address to rise in courts.

ADRASTUS.
'Tis true,
And bred with him, Timanthes has imbib'd
His temper's warmth, which oft, by youth inflam'd,
Flies to extremes—Cherinthus, his young brother,
Is form'd of softer mould; yet both possess
Demophoon's heart; and born of different queens,
He in Timanthes seems to prize the gifts
Of manly fortitude, while in Cherinthus
He loves the milder virtues that revive
His queen Serena's memory.

ORCANES.
Cherinthus
Is now expected from the Phrygian land,
Sent by Demophoon on some embassy
Of high concern—but see the king approaches.

Enter Demophoon attended.
DEMOPHOON.
'Tis well—Manthusius' absence on the eve
Of this important day, when he should meet
My conquering son, the pupil of his arms,
Argues a stubbornness and disregard
A sovereign ill can brook: we own his deeds,
His years of service for the state;—but tell
The all-presuming man, that merit, self
O'er-rated, cancels its reward—Adrastus,
Ought hears't thou of Cherinthus?

ADRASTUS.
No, my liege,
But to the Thracian port, the fav'ring winds
Must bring his vessel, ere the close of eve.
Forgive a subject's freedom, but you seem
Oppress'd with secret care.

DEMOPHOON.
The time, Adrastus,
Now calls for meditation, and how few
Are a king's hours of peace, whose every day
Teems with some counsel for the public weal.

ADRASTUS.
Yet this auspicious day my king must own
Sets not with common lustre, when your son,
The brave Timanthes, from the Scythian land,
Adds to his father's brow new wreaths of fame,
And to his people gives the palms of peace.
No, sacred sir, the hardy sons of Thrace
Did never celebrate with greater joy
A conquering chief's return.

DEMOPHOON.
Well pleas'd I hear
My faithful people's shouts ascend the sky;
And sympathize in those exulting sounds,
That to the much-lov'd name of my Timanthes,
Join every wish—but hark! the victor comes.

Enter Timanthes attended.
TIMANTHES.
Royal sir!
To whom Timanthes owns the double tie
Of son and subject; see him now return'd
From Scythia's kingdom with success and conquest
To grace a father's throne—

DEMOPHOON.
Timanthes, rise:
The king and father give thee double welcome,
And treble praise to Mars the armipotent,
That gives Demophoon in his darling son
His kingdom's best defender.

TIMANTHES.
Thanks to heaven,
Whose smiles have grac'd my unexperienc'd arms,
I may, without a blush, confess my deeds:
Yes, we have conquer'd; never view'd the sun
A more extensive slaughter: 'midst the tumult
Of fear and rage, were blended undistinguish'd
The brave, the base, the victor and the vanquish'd.
The day at length was ours; if you demand
A proof of this, behold yon' captive bands,
Behold yon' shatter'd arms and streaming ensigns.

DEMOPHOON.
'Tis not alone o'er the stern Scythian foe
Thou spread'st thy trophies; by subduing him,
Thou triumph'st in Demophoon's breast—mean time
In this embrace receive my pledge of love:
Thy father welcomes thee—proceed, my son,
Urge on thy course to honour's furthest goal,
Till verging on the extreme of age, Demophoon
Beholds thy fame eclipse his own—but toils
Demand refreshment, and the weary'd arm
Of valour gains new vigour from repose.
But I have that requires thy private ear;
Let all, except Timanthes, leave the presence.

[Exeunt attendants.
Manent Demophoon and Timanthes.
DEMOPHOON.
Come near, my son—thou little think'st how much
Thy happiness employs my careful breast.
While in the distant fields of fame Timanthes
Encounter'd dangers for his father's honour,
Demophoon's thoughts were all employ'd at home,
To bless his glad return with halcyon days.

TIMANTHES.
Have I not felt your goodness? since the time
Of early childhood to the ripening age
Of manly life, a father has prevented
My every wish.—

DEMOPHOON.
Thou know'st Argea dy'd
Ere twice six moons had taught thy tongue to lisp
A mother's name—two years elaps'd, once more
I try'd the nuptial band: Cherinthus crown'd
This second union—but his birth, alas!
Was fatal to Serena; and with her,
In me the husband dy'd; and now the father
Engrosses all my soul.

TIMANTHES.
Still may Timanthes
With filial duty sooth your days in peace,
And oft as war shall call your banners forth
Return with conquest home.

DEMOPHOON.
Thou canst not tell
How dear I hold thee—to the toil of arms
Love gives its soft relief, and beauty best
Smooths the rough front of war: tho' now my years
Roll forward, and the summer of my life
Yields to declining autumn, well I know
What youth has been, and what befits the age
When jocund spring leads up the laughing hours.

TIMANTHES.
Alas! my lord, let not your goodness task
Timanthes' gratitude, I ask no more
To crown my labours than Demophoon's smiles.
What bliss is wanting to that chief, whose arms
Defend his sovereign's crown and guard his people?

DEMOPHOON.
Yes, my lov'd son, Cephisa's virgin charms,
Cephisa, daughter to the Phrygian king,
Shall be thy valour's great reward.

TIMANTHES.
Cephisa!

DEMOPHOON.
What mean'st thou? Wherefore hangs this sudden gloom
O'er thy chang'd features? Can Cephisa's beauties
Whom sighing kings—nay more—

TIMANTHES.
Yet hear me, sir,
Be not displeas'd with your Timanthes—Heav'n's
My witness, gladly would I yield my life,
If such a sacrifice could aught avail
To insure Demophoon's peace—but I confess
Repugnance here.—

DEMOPHOON.
Timanthes!—

TIMANTHES.
Tho' I own,
(What fame has loudly spoken) every virtue
That decks the royal virgin, yet if aught
My deeds have merited—

DEMOPHOON.
Where can we find
Another partner for Timanthes' bed,
Unless a subject born?—Think not, my son,
The shades of our great ancestors shall blush
To see their line disgrac'd—from them we hold
The statute, that condemns to death the subject
Who weds with royal blood; and whilst I live
I'm guardian of the laws, and will enforce them
Even with severest rigour.

TIMANTHES.
Sacred sir—

Enter Orcanes.
ORCANES.
The Phrygian ships, my lord, are now descry'd
Full steering to the port, their spreading sails
Swell in the winds that waft them to the shore.

DEMOPHOON.
'Tis well—go thou, my son, to meet thy brother,
And bid the princess welcome to the land:
Myself would with thee, but the priests demand
My presence at the temple, to consult
To-morrow's mournful rites.

TIMANTHES.
[aside.]
Doubts rise on doubts!
This dreadful sacrifice—yet stay, my father—

DEMOPHOON.
What would'st thou?—speak—

TIMANTHES.
Alas! I know not what—
Fain would I utter—but—

DEMOPHOON.
No more, I cannot
Prolong the precious time in vain debate:
The terms are settled, prince—then summon all
Thy virtue to respect a parent's will,
And dress thy looks in smiles to meet Cephisa.

[Exeunt Demophoon and Orcanes.
Timanthes
alone.
Ha! dress my looks in smiles to meet Cephisa!
What have I heard!—O! where's Ismena now,
That once could sooth my cares! whose beauty best
Smooth'd the rough task of war—Methinks ev'n now
She chides the lingering hours—then let me fly,
Steal unperceiv'd upon the beauteous mourner,
And with Timanthes' love relieve her sorrows!

[Exit.
SCENE, A Garden.
Enter Mathusius and Ismena.
ISMENA.
Yet hear me, sir, nor chide your lov'd Ismena,
If she presume, with unexperienc'd counsel,
To guide a father's thoughts—Alas! I fear
The fond impatience of paternal tenderness
But makes that evil sure, which fortune else
May otherwise dispose.—Has not Demophoon
Dispatch'd some delegates to Delphos' shrine,
Once more to seek a period to the scourge
That hangs each year on our devoted Thrace?

MATHUSIUS.
From thence no comfort springs—This very morn
Arriv'd, they from the sacred tripos brought
This doubtful answer, that the land must groan
Beneath the wrath of heaven, till to himself
Th'offender shall be known, who, guiltless now,
Usurps a prince's right.

ISMENA.
Mysterious all!

MATHUSIUS.
Mean-time destruction with remorseless fury
Hangs o'er my child, the darling of my age!
And shall I then consent—

ISMENA.
Yet recollect
Your wonted fortitude—why should you hope
That, 'midst the weeping maids of Thrace, Ismena
Should stand exempted from the fatal urn?
You plead the king perhaps—

MATHUSIUS.
And just the plea:
Am I, because a subject, less a father?
Apollo wills some virgin, nobly born,
Should stain his altar every year with blood.
Let him recall his daughter, kept at distance
With artful policy—let him expose
Her name in yonder urn, and let him prove
What pangs distract a wretched parent's breast
When his heart trembles, as the priest draws near
The sacred vase, while with a solemn mien
His lips prepare to speak the victim's name.

ISMENA.
Alas! my lord, cast round your eyes, behold
The Thracian court, and mark her proudest nobles
Whose hearts have shudder'd on this awful day
For a child's threaten'd life—'tis true Arsene
The first-born off-spring of his queen Argea,
Resides at distance from Demophoon's palace:
But yet reflect, that, singly to refuse
Ismena's name, will but incense the king:
Let not my danger urge you to expose
Your age to further woe—too much already
He views you with an unpropitious eye.
I dread to think, if now too far provok'd,
What mischief may ensue!

MATHUSIUS.
In vain thou tell'st me
Of wrath or hatred in his breast, while reason
Asserts my cause, and heav'n inspires my thoughts.
Was it for this I taught his arms to conquer,
And bred his son to greatness? Yes, by me
The Scythian foe is vanquish'd; and by me
This eve Timanthes comes in triumph home.

ISMENA.
Timanthes, O! my heart! [aside.]
What says my father,
Is then the prince return'd?

MATHUSIUS.
He is, Ismena,
And comes in happy hour: his generous soul
Disdains not to remember that Mathusius
Taught his young sword to reap in glory's field:
To him I will appeal—he will, with pity,
Behold a parent's sufferings.

ISMENA.
Yet, my father,
Should the brave prince, with sympathizing heart,
Plead vainly with Demophoon, O! forbear
To urge the contest further: hope, the genius
That still has watch'd your years of danger past,
Will guard your age from anguish.

MATHUSIUS.
Cease, Ismena,
To oppose, with fruitless words, my fix'd resolve:
No, if I still must be condemn'd to feel
This anguish of the soul, yon haughty monarch
Shall share with me those fears a father knows,
Nor stand excluded from Mathusius' pangs!

[Exit.
Ismena
alone.
The tempest thickens round! my little back
That, till this hour, has stemm'd life's boisterous wave,
At length, I fear, must sink—Timanthes comes,
He comes with conquest crown'd, but where are now
Ismena's smiles to meet him! Is it thus,
With tears ill-omen'd, with foreboding sighs,
I give him welcome here.
Enter Timanthes.
My life! my lord!
Com'st thou again, preserv'd from danger's field,
To these fond arms!

TIMANTHES.
Yes, 'midst the sterner deeds
Which glory claim'd, thy image, present still,
Sooth'd every toil—And art thou then the same
As when I left thee at the call of honour?

ISMENA.
Canst thou then doubt me! If thy heart, Timanthes,
In the rough shock of war, and clang of arms,
Forgot not softer hours of peace and love,
Think'st thou, Ismena, 'midst these shades, that oft
Have witness'd to our mutual vows, would ever
Cast off remembrance that she once was happy?

TIMANTHES.
Forgive the fondness of o'erflowing love
That wishes still to hear those gentle lips
Breathe their soft vows—How fares my boy Olinthus?
The precious pledge of our connubial joys,
That heaven bestow'd while, distant with thy father,
Four springs renewing since the Thracian grove,
Timanthes march'd against his country's foes?

ISMENA.
Some God, that watches o'er this pledge of love,
Sure crowns his tender age with growing beauty,
Or the fond mother with imagin'd grace
Has deck'd his infancy; his looks already
Assume thy manly sternness; when he smiles,
He's all thyself; and oft as I can steal
A wish'd-for look, I gaze with rapture on him,
And think I view Timanthes, till deceiv'd
With the dear thought, I strain him to my breast,
And in the son embrace the absent father.

TIMANTHES.
What place contains our infant hope! O! lead,
Lead me, Ismena, where these longing eyes
May in his features read a father's likeness,
Or see them blooming with his mother's charms.

ISMENA.
Alas! my lord, awhile suppress these warm
Paternal feelings—some few miles remote,
Sequester'd from the city, on the edge
Of the rude forest, Arcas and Ianthe,
A rustic pair, unconscious of their charge,
Rear his young life—Amidst the observing eyes
That watch a prince's deeds, you must beware,
And but with caution see him—Heav'n allows
To us with scanty hand the parent's joys,
In the soft moments of o'erflowing nature,
To clasp him in our fond endearing arms,
And bless the prattler with the tongue of transport.

TIMANTHES.
By heav'n it shall not be—I'll burst at once
From dark dissimulation's veil—'tis now
The crisis of our fate!

ISMENA.
It is indeed:
To-morrow's sun lights up the solemn day
Of annual sacrifice: Ismena's name
Must stand enroll'd amongst th'elected train
That wait the dreadful chance.

TIMANTHES.
Ismena's name!

ISMENA.
'Tis so decreed,—and think not that I fear
To die for Thrace—no, for her country's sake,
Ismena gladly would embrace her doom.
But Phœbus' words demand a virgin's blood;
Shall I, a wife and mother, dare approach
His sacred altar, an unhallow'd victim?
Thus, if I speak or not, I still am guilty,
My silence heav'n offends, my speech the king.

TIMANTHES.
The king must know the secret of our nuptials:
All, all demands is now—for, O Ismena,
This very hour perhaps Cherinthus brings
A rival to thy love—Cephisa comes;
But now Demophoon urg'd me to receive
The Phrygian princess—but, be witness heav'n!
Not all the cruel policy of courts,
Not the stern mandates of a king and father,
Shall e'er dissolve those tender ties which love
Has form'd, and virtue sanctifies.

ISMENA.
Alas!
What can it all avail! our union publish'd,
Thou know'st the sentence of the law impends
On my devoted head.

TIMANTHES.
A monarch made,
A monarch can revoke the stern decree:
Demophoon, tho' severe, is still a parent,
His kind indulgence shall avert the stroke
That threats Ismena.

ISMENA.
Rather let it come:
Too long, Timanthes, hast thou sacrific'd
Thy glory to Ismena—O! reflect
How ill the name of Thracia's heir agrees
With secret nuptials and clandestine love.
Let me embrace my fate—I die with joy,
Since I, in death, can call Timanthes mine!

TIMANTHES.
O! fortune, wherefore did thy lavish hand
Give my Ismena every charm, yet place
Her virtues in the vale of private life?
But be it so—it rests on me to amend
The partial error—Thrace, some future day,
With joy shall view her partner of my throne.
Farewell, my love, and let this six'd assurance
Dwell in thy mind, and calm thy troubled thoughts:
Timanthes will be ever watchful o'er thee,
And hold thy peace far dearer than his own.

[Exeunt severally.