University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

An apartment illuminated: a seat; a table on one side and a sceptre and crown upon it.
Cleonice seated, leaning upon the table, Olinthus.
Cleo.
Enough, Olinthus, in a few short moments
The impatient people at the destin'd place
Shall see their queen: they ask of me to choose
A husband and a king—yes, I will choose
A king and husband: give me but an instant
To recollect my thoughts. Why am I press'd
With such unmanner'd zeal? Have then my vassals
No more respect? And was it but to enslave,
You rais'd me to the throne? Or do you scorn
To yield subjection to a female sway?
But Cleonice is not yet the first
Example of her sex; Scythia has own'd
The rule of Thomyris and of Thalestris;
And Babylon and Carthage have confess'd
The reigns of Dido and Semiramis.

Olin.
Forgive me, queen, unjustly you complain:
Say, has not Syria witness'd to your virtues?
Remember, when your mighty father died,
She plac'd you on the throne; to you intrusted
Th' election of her king; allow'd you time
For counsel and reflection: ever since
She strives in vain to hasten on the hour,
Long promis'd by yourself to make her happy:
Yet you reproach your people. O! my queen,
Unjustly you complain.

Cleo.
In Cleonice
If thus the realm confide, you cannot sure
Refuse her now some minutes of delay.

Olin.
O Heaven! so oft our hopes have been deceiv'd,
With reason 'tis we fear. Two moons entire
Seleucia gave your pious grief to weep
A father's loss; the third is in its wane,
Yet are you unresolv'd. Sometimes to excuse
Your long delay, you plead a fatal dream,
Or unpropitious day: now from the right
You see the lightning flash; now from the altar
Oblique ascends the flame: the bird of night
Now breaks your slumbers with his funeral song;
And now your eyes involuntary pour
The sudden tear.

Cleo.
Alas! my fears were true.

Olin.
After such fond pretences, urg'd in vain,
At length this day you promis'd for your choice:
Your subjects all assembled, with impatience
Prevent the rising morn: each decks his person
With utmost pomp to appear before his queen.
Some clothe their limbs in costly silken vests,
Wrought by Sidonian virgins; some in wool,
Of deepest Tyrian dye; while o'er the brows
Of some the pride of foreign plumage nods
Amid the turban's folds; or from their temples
Depend the costly strings of Indian pearl.
Others with gems and burnish'd gold adorn
The stately trappings of the Parthian steed.
This day whate'er is precious Syria shows;
And every treasure now is brought to light,
Which fearful avarice had for years conceal'd.

Cleo.
How little this avails to ease my heart!

Olin.
But wherefore all these cares, this useless pomp,
If from the morn till noon, in expectation,
From noon till eve they wait, yet wait in vain?
The night declines apace, but still you come not.
Irresolute, uncertain, still you're lost
In anxious doubts, while each delay seems short
And insufficient to confirm your thoughts:
Yet you reproach your people. O my queen,
Unjustly you complain.

Cleo.
'Tis all too true;
Yes, I must yield to hard necessity:
Go then, and I will follow: I will choose
My husband, and content my kingdom's wishes.

Olin.
Reflect—remember that your faithful subject
Olinthus loves you—that my blood—

Cleo.
I know
It flows unsullied from a race of heroes.

Olin.
Then add to this the virtues of Phenicius.

Cleo.
Of these I'm not to learn.

Olin.
His prudent counsels—

Cleo.
Oft have I prov'd their worth, and tried his faith;
Whate'er thou say'st, Olinthus, I confess.

Olin.
And yet you know not all—unnoted long,
Enamour'd of your beauties, have I pin'd
A secret lover—

Cleo.
O forbear, and leave me!

Olin.
Can I forbear?

Cleo.
Is this a time, Olinthus,
To talk of love?

[rises.
Olin.
Why swells your indignation,
If pleading here forgiveness—

Cleo.
Cease, and leave me.

Olin.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Enter Barsene.
Cleo.
Alcestes, O! where art thou? Lov'd Alcestes,
Dost thou not hear me? Still in vain I call,
In vain expect thy presence.—My Barsene,
Perchance thou bring'st me news of glad import;
Say, is my dear Alcestes yet return'd?

Bar.
O would to Heaven he were! I come, my queen,
To hasten your approach: the populace
Begin to murmur loud at your delay,
Nor can you longer, but with utmost danger,
Protract your stay.

Cleo.
O me unhappy! come
[going, she stops.
Let us depart to choose this husband—Heaven!
My courage fails, Barsene: vainly reason
Would point me out that course my dubious heart
And tardy feet refuse—Is there a wretch
So curs'd, so tortur'd, so forlorn as I?

[throws herself in the chair.
Bar.
Why thus ingenious to torment yourself,
By feigning woes that are not?

Cleo.
Feigning woes?
Is it a fiction then that tyrant duty
Constrains me now to bind myself in marriage,
A slave till death to one I cannot love?
To one perhaps who while with seeming transport
He seeks my hand, laments the hard condition
On which he buys the throne?

Bar.
'Tis true; but yet
The sacred ties, the dear succeeding pledges
That bless the nuptial bed; and stealing time
Whose course can reconcile two hearts averse;
All these, by slow degrees, will change aversion
To love, or soften it at least to friendship.

Cleo.
And what if my Alcestes should again
Return, and find me in another's arms!
What must become of both?—The thought distracts me—
How shall I then repent my breach of faith!
What torment must be his to see me false!
Alas! I figure to myself his rage,
His just reproaches, and his jealous pangs,
And in his features every thought I read
His secret heart conceals.

Bar.
And can you hope
That ever he'll return? A season now
Is past, since 'midst the Cretan ranks, in battle
Your father fell; you know that by his side,
Alcestes fought, nor has been heard of since.
Or now he groans in chains, or 'midst the waves
He found his fate, or was in combat slain.

Cleo.
No, my heart tells me that Alcestes lives,
Alcestes will return.

Bar.
Should he return
You must be more unhappy. If to him
You give your hand, you slight a hundred lovers
That claim regard; or should you choose another,
Alcestes present at your fatal choice,
You kill the man you love: thus his arrival
But offers you this hard alternative,
To show your cruelty to one, or prove
Unjust to many.

Cleo.
Let him but return,
Some way may yet be found—

SCENE III.

Enter Mithranes.
Mith.
O queen, what means
Your long delay? The peril grows more pressing:
The people's patience now by slow degrees
Degenerates into tumult; nought can stop
The threatening mischief but your speedy presence.

Cleo.
Behold Barsene how Alcestes comes!
Let us depart.

[rises.
Bar.
Is then your choice determin'd?

Cleo.
'Tis not determin'd.

Bar.
What is then your purpose?

Cleo.
I know not what.

Bar.
Will you thus unresolv'd,
Expose yourself to such a dangerous trial?

Cleo.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

Barsene, Mithranes.
Bar.
Unhappy queen! her woes excite my pity.

Mith.
Have you so much compassion for her pains,
And yet for me, Barsene, feel so little?

Bar.
If pity's all you seek, I freely grant it;
But if you hope for love, your hopes are vain.

Mith.
And have I not enough to make me wretched,
That thou would'st now deprive me even of hope?

Bar.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

Enter Phenicius.
Mith.
Fruitless compassion!

Phen.
Say, Mithranes, where
Is Cleonice?

Mith.
She at length compell'd,
Is gone to make th' election.

Phen.
Then, my friend,
My cares are all in vain.

Mith.
What dost thou mean?

Phen.
Yes, to thy well known faith I must reveal
A mighty secret; hear, and give me counsel.

Mith.
Confide in me, I plight my truth, my honour
Ne'er to reveal it.

Phen.
Thou remember'st well
That Alexander, Cleonice's father,
Drove from the throne our lawful king Demetrius.

Mith.
Near thirty years have since elaps'd, but still
The event is present to my mind.

Phen.
Thou know'st
In cruel banishment Demetrius died:
Thou must have heard that with him died his son,
As yet an infant.

Mith.
Yes, I recollect
He too was call'd Demetrius.

Phen.
Now, my friend,
Learn that this royal offspring still survives,
Nor is to thee unknown.

Mith.
May I believe thee,
Or is it but a dream?

Phen.
I'll tell thee further;
He in Alcestes lives.

Mith.
Immortal powers!
What do I hear!

Phen.
His father, when he fled,
Intrusted him to me, and gave me charge
To have him nam'd Alcestes: to his bosom
He press'd me tenderly, his fond embraces
Dividing thus betwixt his son and me,
With sighs he cry'd: “Receive this precious pledge;
“Preserve him for his father's sake, preserve him
“To assert a glorious vengeance and to reign.”

Mith.
Now I perceive the motive of your zeal:
But wherefore was he thus so long conceal'd?

Phen.
Fearful to hazard yet a life so valu'd,
I spread the tidings that Demetrius liv'd,
But kept it secret that he was Alcestes.
Thou need'st not here be told that this report
On Alexander brought the Cretan arms;
And that the tyrant in the battle fell.
But different was th' effect Demetrius' name
Produc'd in Syria; there the ambitious nobles
Refus'd their credit to the voice of rumour.
And hence a foreign aid was requisite
To fix him on the throne: this aid from Crete
Is now expected; but it comes in vain.
Alcestes is from hence—and, ah! I know not
If yet he lives—meantime our Cleonice
Elects a king.—

Mith.
Should Cleonice now
Elect him, let Alcestes but return,
Let him from Crete receive the promis'd succours,
And vengeance still is in his power.

Phen.
Mithranes,
Far different my designs: I hop'd Alcestes
Some future day to Cleonice join'd
In nuptial bands, with her might share the throne;
For sure the princess well deserves to reign.
To this intent, in both their hearts I cherish'd
A growing passion; and had destiny—
But I neglect the hours in vain complaints.
My friend, I call'd thee to partake my cares,
Could we gain time we yet might reap the fruit
Of all our toils—Then let us go, and seek
To interrupt the choice; if nought beside
Avail, I'll venture to disclose the secret:
Do thou before the assembly second me,
And if the great occasion call for arms,
With arms assist me.

Mith.
Here's my hand, my sword,
In such a cause my blood shall freely flow;
I ne'er can shed it in a nobler quarrel.
O! 'twere an envied death to lose my life
In fighting for my king.

Phen.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Mithranes
alone.

[Exit.

SCENE VII.

A magnificent place with a throne on one side; seats opposite the throne for the Grandees of the kingdom. A prospect of the principal port of Seleucia, with the harbour. Ships illuminated to solemnize the election of the new king.
Cleonice preceded by the Grandees of the kingdom, followed by Phenicius and Olinthus. Guards and People.
Chorus.
Each God, and every Goddess hear!
Be present at our prayer:
Behold the important moment near
That must our king declare.

First Chorus.
Hear! Mars and Cupid, now descend;
Your eyes unbind, your falchion sheathe.

Second Chorus.
Let Peace and Hymen here attend,
With kindled torch, and olive wreath.

First Chorus.
Come, Jove, and close beside thee wait
The subject Gods, with Chance and Fate.

Second Chorus.
Benignant come to bless mankind,
And leave thy angry bolts behind.

Chorus.
Each God, and every Goddess hear!
Be present at our prayer;
Behold the important moment near,
That must our king declare.

[while this Chorus is sung, Cleonice, attended by Phenicius, ascends the throne.
Olin.
O queen! all Syria with impatient zeal
Waits from your lips to hear their monarch nam'd,
At length resolve—each, by respectful silence,
Would hasten on th' event.

Cleo.
Sit then—O Gods!
How cruel is this day!

[aside.
[Phenicius, Olinthus and the rest of the Grandees take their places.
Phen.
What means she now!

[aside.
Cleo.
Syrians attend: you rais'd me to the throne;
Your love deserves my thanks; and yet your gift
Is clogg'd with hard conditions: midst so many
Equal in birth, and equal in desert,
Like me, who would not pause? In all my thoughts
Doubtful, irresolute, now this, now that,
I choose, reject; a thousand times an hour
I change my will. Behold I come to choose,
Yet still I come uncertain, unresolv'd.

Phen.
Take then, O queen! a longer time to fix
Your undetermin'd mind.

Olin.
A longer time?

Phen.
Be silent—think not Syria means to press you
With zeal importunate: we all confess
How great must be your trial.

Olin.
Is the course
Of three long moons so little? Thus indeed
May Cleonice still proceed to promise,
And never yet resolve.

Phen.
Presumptuous boy!
Whence springs this insolence?

Olin.
'Tis zeal, 'tis justice,
'Tis sense of danger for my queen. Should Syria
This day be baffled in her hopes, I know not
To what extremes impatience may proceed.

Phen.
They may repent their rashness: those who sit
Supreme on thrones can brook compulsion ill.
Though length of years unnerve my body's strength,
It has not damp'd the vigour of my soul:
No—these old veins shall pour forth all their blood
To guard my sovereign's freedom—

Cleo.
O Phenicius!
Forbear to furnish cause for new contention.
What now avails it to defer th' election,
I still shall be uncertain—Hear me then,
I now declare my choice—

Phen.
You must not choose.
'Tis time we should discover all.

[aside.
Cleo.
What brings
Mithranes here with hasty steps?

SCENE VIII.

Enter Mithranes.
Mith.
This instant,
In a small bark, Alcestes is arriv'd.

Cleo.
Ye powers!

Phen.
I breathe again.

Cleo.
Where is Alcestes?

Mith.
He comes from yonder port.

Cleo.
Phenicius, go;
And thou, Olinthus—O my fluttering heart!
Meet and embrace your now returning friend.
[rises, the rest rise at the same time.
I had almost forgot I was a queen.

[aside.
[resumes her seat.
[Phenicius and Mithranes go to meet Alcestes, who is seen to approach the shore in a small vessel; he lands, and they embrace.
Olin.
Unfortunate arrival!

[aside.
Cleo.
See Alcestes!
And dost thou throb, my heart, to view the conqueror
That binds thee in his chains?

SCENE IX.

Enter Alcestes from the port.
Alc.
At length has fate
Given me the wish'd-for happiness, my queen,
To throw me at your feet: yes, Heaven allows me
Thus with these faithful lips to pay you here
The tribute of my constancy; most happy,
If 'midst the cares that still surround a throne,
You deign one royal look to grace my welcome.

Cleo.
Whate'er I am, or private, or a queen,
Still shalt thou find the same in Cleonice.
And art thou then Alcestes now return'd,
So long expected, and so long bewail'd?

Phen.
My hopes again revive.

[aside.
Cleo.
But what disaster
Has thus withheld thee from us?

Olin.
Patience, Heaven!

[aside.
Alc.
You know that my departure with your father—

Olin.
Alcestes, we've been told the sight, the storm,
The death of Alexander—

Cleo.
Let him yet
Relate the rest—Proceed.

[to Alcestes.
Olin.
O pain to suffer!

[aside.
Alc.
The courage of our troops began to sink
When Alexander died: the adverse bands
Already leap'd triumphant on our ships,
And horrid slaughter rag'd amidst the vanquish'd.
Death stalk'd around in various ghastly forms;
Some in the waves expir'd; some breath'd their last
Transfix'd with hostile darts; and oft 'twas doubtful
If seas or foes destroy'd them. I meanwhile,
Preserv'd amid the havock, hating life,
Stood on the vessel's shatter'd prow, expos'd
To many a thousand shaft: there long I fought,
Till my blood streaming fast from every wound,
My senses fail'd, and headlong from the height,
Into the seas I fell.

Cleo.
My pitying heart!

[aside.
Alc.
How long I floated on the waves I know not;
But when again I rais'd my heavy eyes,
They saw the ship no more; but I perceiv'd
Myself upon a homely bed reclin'd,
Beneath a simple roof: the walls around
Were hung with nets; and close beside me stood,
With gentle looks, a hoary fisherman,
Bent by the weight of years.

Cleo.
But say, what land
Had then receiv'd thee?

Alc.
'Twas the land of Crete,
A Cretan was my host; he found me cast
Half dead upon the shore, and with compassion
Convey'd me to his dwelling; then with care
Restor'd my fainting sense, and to my wounds
Applied the sovereign balm of healing plants:
With him I long remain'd; 'twas he provided
The bark that brought me hither.

Phen.
Strange events!

Olin.
At length the tale is done—'tis time—

Cleo.
Olinthus,
I understand thee—I will choose my husband:
Let all be seated and attend.

[Phenicius, Olinthus and the rest of the Grandees take their places.
Alc.
I come
Most opportunely to the choice.

[Alcestes going to seat himself, is prevented by Olinthus.
Olin.
Forbear,
What would'st thou do?

Alc.
Obey the queen's command.

Olin.
And shall it be? Shall Syria then behold
A low-born shepherd seated by Olinthus?

Alc.
Already Syria has enough distinguish'd
Alcestes from the shepherd. Know, Alcestes
Cast off his former state, when he resign'd
The shepherd's crook to grasp the warrior's arms.

Olin.
But in those veins still runs a peasant's blood.

Alc.
No—in these veins far different flows the stream;
For when I shed my blood in your defence,
I made it noble.

Olin.
Which of all thy race
Hast thou to boast? What now inspires this boldness?

Alc.
My own right hand, my courage, and my sword.

Olin.
Since then—

Phen.
Be silent yet—

Olin.
Let us at least
Be told the glory of his ancestors.

Phen.
The glory of thy race with thee concludes,
But his begins with him.

Cleo.
No more—By virtue
Of my command Alcestes is ennobled.

Olin.
Yet in this place must none presume to sit,
But those of highest rank.

Cleo.
Well then, Alcestes
Shall sit as general of the Syrian armies;
Shall sit as keeper of the royal signet:
Will this suffice, Olinthus?

[Alcestes seats himself.
Olin.
'Tis too much—
[rising.
Give next yourself away; elect him king;
For all must see to what your purpose tends.

Phen.
And dar'st thou rashly answer thus thy sovereign?
Hear me, O queen! to me commit the task
To punish this presumptuous—

Cleo.
To his merits,
And inexperienc'd youth, I pardon all:
But let him curb his speech.

Phen.
Sit then, and learn
[to Olinthus.
At least in silence to suppress thy temper.
Hear'st thou, Olinthus?

Olin.
Sir—I will obey—
[sits.
I burn with rage.

[aside.
Cleo.
Already in my heart
My choice is fix'd, but ere I speak my thoughts,
This one condition grant: each present here
Must swear allegiance to th' elected king,
Whether a Syrian, or a stranger born,
Of blood illustrious, or of race obscure.

Olin.
Can I hear this?

[aside.
Phen.
Whate'er he be, O queen!
I swear to obey him.

Cleo.
Now, Olinthus, speak.

Phen.
Wilt thou not answer?

Olin.
Let me still be silent.

Cleo.
Thou dost perhaps refuse it?

Olin.
I have cause;
Nor I alone oppose the oath enjoin'd;
Others there are—

Cleo.
'Tis well—let those who seek
On terms like these to reign, ascend the throne:
I will not bear controlment in dominion.

[rises from the throne; all the rest rise from their seats at the same time.
Phen.
Heed not, O queen! the few that dare rebel;
But see the faithful many that obey.

Cleo.

[Exit followed by Mithranes, Grandees, guards and people.

SCENE X.

Phenicius, Olinthus, Alcestes.
Phen.
And must thy passions ever make me blush,
Nor wilt thou from the converse of the wise,
Or their example, learn to rule thy conduct?

Olin.
My father, wherefore are you thus unkind
To me your son? The power is yours to raise
Olinthus to the throne, and you oppose him.

Phen.
Yes, Syria then would doubtless have a king
With every virtue; turbulent and rash,
Unjust and violent—

Olin.
Your lov'd Alcestes
Would then be humble, generous, mild and prudent!
Ah! who will teach me now the art to gain
A father's dear affection?

Phen.

[Exit.

SCENE XI.

Olinthus, Alcestes.
Olin.
My father bids me in Alcestes' school
Learn to be virtuous—Come, begin to teach me:
And Heaven so frame my genius to receive
Instruction, not to shame so great a master.

Alc.
My lord, from you alone I can support
Such bitter taunts—the son of good Phenicius
May speak without rebuke.

Olin.
I was too bold
To dally with my king: forgive me, sir,
If I offend the regal dignity.

Alc.

[Exit.

SCENE XII.

Olinthus
alone.

[Exit.

SCENE XIII.

An inner garden of the royal palace.
Cleonice, Barsene.
Cleo.
Is it because I love him that the world
Are all Alcestes' foes? To oppose me thus,
But adds to my affection.

Bar.
Now perhaps
The council has decided in your favour.
Why then before the time—

Cleo.
Full well I know
The power of envy: at this very instant
Perhaps my empire's ended: yet, Barsene,
Think not that malice e'er can make me wretched:
In my Alcestes' heart I more than reign.

Bar.
O pangs of jealousy!

[aside.

SCENE XIV.

Enter Phenicius.
Cleo.
Phenicius, speak,
Has yet the council settled?

Phen.
All is done.

Cleo.
The rest I understand without thy telling:
My reign is finish'd.

Phen.
Better judge, my queen,
Of Syria and yourself: your faithful vassals
Have more respect and love. The power is yours
To raise the man you please, to share the throne:
Whate'er may prove your choice, of high degree,
Or race obscure, all swear to yield obedience.

Cleo.
And can it be? What! in a few short moments,
So chang'd from what they were?

Phen.
Alas! you know not
How dear your subjects prize you: all appear'd
On this important day. With transport some
Extoll'd your form, where goodness seem'd to dwell:
Your wisdom some, and some your virtues prais'd:
Some offer'd all their blood in your defence;
And, 'midst their mingled raptures of applause,
O queen! how many eager tongues at once
Pronounc'd the pleasing name of Cleonice.

Bar.
O my disastrous love!

[aside.
Cleo.
Go—to the council
Declare this message—tell them that my heart
Is not insensible to such high proofs
Of duteous zeal; that still my care shall be
The kingdom never may repent the trust
Plac'd in their queen; that Cleonice ever
With gratitude shall own it.

Phen.
[aside.]
In Alcestes
The rightful heir will now ascend the throne.

[Exit.

SCENE XV.

Cleonice, Barsene.
Bar.
Behold how fortune seconds all your wishes:
See your desires accomplish'd; every sorrow
Is now dispers'd.

Cleo.
O Heaven!

Bar.
What means that sigh?
Is there a cause of grief? This happy hour
The man you love is yours; and still your eyes
Are dimm'd with streaming tears.

Cleo.
My dear Barsene,
Alcestes now is lost!

Bar.
How lost, my queen!

Cleo.
Shall then my subjects be more generous found
Than I their queen? And would'st thou Cleonice
Should by her partial fondness judge of merit,
Without regarding that illustrious throng
Of nobles that surround her? Shall she raise
A shepherd to the throne to rule the world?
O! can I even in thought—It must not be.
Till now my glory urg'd me to subdue
The opposing voice of faction; that repell'd,
It now inspires me to subdue myself.

Bar.
How will Alcestes bear it?

Cleo.
If Alcestes
Still love me as he ought, he'll love my glory.
O! he'll exult to find his Cleonice
Thus shine with native lustre o'er her sex,
Above the vulgar herd of common lovers.

Bar.
I fear your best resolves will shrink before him.

Cleo.
Alas! my friend, I dare not meet the trial;
I know not if my virtue could support it;
For O! my heart is fix'd too firmly his.
If I would conquer, I no more must view
That dear lov'd face.

SCENE XVI.

Enter Mithranes.
Mith.
Alcestes seeks admittance.

Cleo.
O Heaven! Barsene!

Bar.
Now, confirm your strength.

Cleo.
Go—'tis no longer time—

[to Mithranes.
Mith.
Alcestes comes.

[Exit.
Cleo.
Be resolute my soul.

[aside.

SCENE XVII.

Enter Alcestes.
Alc.
And is it given me
Without a blush, before my beauteous queen
To breathe my vows of constancy; to tell her
That absent from her sight I found no peace?
To tell her that my thoughts were only hers,
That she's my love, my glory, and my life?

Cleo.
Ah! speak not thus.

Alc.
Not speak! can then these fond,
These true professions of my heart's affection,
That once were wont to please, offend thee now?
And is it thus, O Heaven! I find again
The same in Cleonice? Or am I
The same Alcestes, that at length return'd,
So long expected, and so long bewail'd?

Cleo.
O torture!

[aside.
Alc.
Yes, I see, I see it now;
A few short moons of absence have suffic'd
To freeze the hopes of ten years faithful love.

Cleo.
Ah! would to Heaven—

Alc.
What means that exclamation?
Tell me my crime; if ever I have wrong'd thee,
Let fate resume whate'er thy lavish hand
Has heap'd upon me: may those beauteous eyes,
Those eyes that rule my heart, that guide my life,
Still on Alcestes dart their angry beams.
Look on me—speak—

Cleo.
I can endure no more—
Farewell!—

[Exit.

SCENE XVIII.

Barsene, Alcestes.
Alc.
Ye powers! what can this mean? Her words
Confus'd, her frequent sighs, her looks of sorrow,
All make me tremble—tell me then, Barsene,
Say whence this new, this cruel change proceeds?
From the dark workings of some secret foe?
Or is it but her own inconstancy,
The stars' injustice, or Alcestes' guilt?

Bar.
Even from my soul I pity your distraction:
Perchance some other beauty may be found
To make Alcestes happier.

Alc.

[Exit.

SCENE XIX.

Barsene
alone.

[Exit.