University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Enter Timanthes.
Timan.
My king! my father! pity, grace and pardon!

Demo.
For whom dost thou entreat?

Timan.
The unhappy daughter
Of poor Mathusius.

Demo.
'Tis already done;
Her doom is fix'd; the sentence that has pass'd
A monarch's lips, is not to be revok'd.
Repentance springs from error; but a king
Who errs not, never can repent.

Timan.
On earth
The Gods are worshipp'd, as they bend their ear
To mortal vows: but Fate, the greatest power,
Against whose dread decree no prayers avail,
Finds none to raise an altar or a temple
To his divinity.

Demo.
And know'st thou not
That Fear's the strongest guardian of the throne?

Timan.
Ill to be trusted.

Demo.
Him respect succeeds,
His rightful offspring.

Timan.
Doubtful as the parent.

Demo.
Soon will it grow to love.

Timan.
But love dissembled.

Demo.
Time will instruct thee what thou yet must learn;
But let us change the subject—Tell me, son,
What hast thou done to offend the Phrygian princess,
Whose hand this day should join to thee in marriage?

Timan.
I feel such strong repugnance to the union,
I fear my best resolves can ne'er surmount it.

Demo.
And yet thou must—

Timan.
Of this we'll speak hereafter.
For Dirce now behold me at your feet;
[kneels.
O! grant, my lord, grant to your son's request
Her guiltless life!

Demo.
Dost thou presume again
To name her? If thou valuest aught my love,
Forego this enterprise.

Timan.
My dearest father!
I cannot now obey you—O! if ever
I have deserv'd a parent's tenderness:
If with a bosom mark'd with honest wounds,
I have return'd a conqueror to your arms:
If e'er my triumphs in the glorious field,
The timely fruits of your august example,
Have drawn the tear of pleasure from your eyes;
Reverse the doom of Dirce: lost, unhappy,
She has no friend but me to plead her cause;
Cast off by all, her hope's in me alone!
O Heaven! 'twere most inhuman to behold her,
In early bloom of years, who never knew
The name of guilt, stretch'd on the fatal altar
In agonizing suffering, to behold
The life-warm blood gush from her tender breast;
To hear the last sad accents from her lips;
To mark her dying eyes—but, thou art pale!
Why look'st thou thus upon me?—O my father!
I know, I know the gracious signs of pity:
Do not repent, my lord, indulge it still;
For never will I quit these sacred feet,
[kneels.
'Till thou hast given the word to pardon Dirce.

Demo.
Rise, prince!—Almighty powers! What must I think
That with such tenderness thou dwell'st upon her?
What mean these starts of some mysterious passion!
And can it be thou lov'st her?

Timan.
'Tis in vain
I seek to hide it longer.

Demo.
Now full well
I see what caus'd thy coldness to Creusa:
And what would'st thou intend? For canst thou hope
I'll e'er consent to join thee to a subject?
Reflect that secret nuptials—O! if once
I could suspect it—

Timan.
What mistrust is this?
I swear to all the Gods I'll ne'er espouse her:
I do not ask it: give her but to live.
But if your will is fix'd, and she must die,
Believe me, sir, your son will perish too.

Demo.
To gain our purpose let us yield a little—
[aside.
Well then, since thou wilt have it so, thy favourite
Shall live, my son, I give her to thy prayers.

Timan.
My dearest father!

[attempts to kiss his hand.
Demo.
Hold—a parent's goodness
Sure merits some return.

Timan.
My life itself—

Demo.
No, my dear son, I ask far less from thee:
Learn to respect my choice in fair Creusa,
And be no more averse to wed the princess.

Timan.
O Heaven!

Demo.
I see it pains thee; but the struggle
Thy heart endures, adds merit to obedience.
Have I not felt compassion for thy weakness?
Do thou preserve my honour: think, Timanthes,
How will the breath of fame traduce thy father,
If through thy fault his sacred faith is forfeit.
Thou canst not harbour such ingratitude;
I know it well—come; let us to the temple,
Thither conduct thy bride, and there before
The attesting Gods, at once my son fulfil
What justice now demands from thee and me.

Timan.
My lord—I cannot—

Demo.
Prince! thou yet hast heard
The father only; force me not to employ
The king's authority.

Timan.
Sacred alike
I hold the dictates of the king and father:
But well thou know'st, love cannot be compell'd.

Demo.
Love rules the nuptials of the subject only,
A greater power must join the hands of princes:
Their choice is guided by the public good.

Timan.
If such a price must buy the good of others—

Demo.
No more—I am weary, prince, of fruitless talk;
This reason may suffice—'tis my command.

Timan.
And I can never—

Demo.
Ha! what means this boldness?
Dost thou not know—

Timan.
I know thou wilt chastise me.

Demo.
Yes, thou shalt feel thy punishment begin
In her thou lov'st, thy Dirce.

Timan.
O for pity!

Demo.
Away.

Timan.
Yet hear—

Demo.
I have heard enough, and Dirce
Shall die; her doom is seal'd.

Timan.
And if she dies—

Demo.
Art thou not gone yet?

Timan.
Yes! I will depart—
But if th'event should prove—

Demo.
Presumptuous boy!
Gods! dost thou threat?

Timan.
I know not when I speak
In prayers or threats, reason by slow degrees
Forsakes her seat—O force me not, my father,
To passion's wild extremes—I here protest—
I'll do—what may I not!—

Demo.
Speak out, ingrate!
What wilt thou do?

Timan.
All that despair can prompt.

[Exit.