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SCENE XIV.
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127

SCENE XIV.

Enter Demophoon, his sword drawn, Guards.
Demo.
Fly not—Stay, unworthy son!

Timan.
My father! are you here against me too!

Demo.
Perfidious boy!

Timan.
Let none approach the victim.

Dir.
Yield, prince, think of thy safety.

[aside to him.
Demo.
No—forbear;
Touch him not, guards, but give his madness way,
And let us see how far it can transport him:
Complete thy glorious deeds, here in this breast
Plunge deep thy sword; thou canst not tremble, traitor,
To pierce a father, when thy impious rage
Has, in their temples, dar'd to insult the Gods!

Timan.
O Heaven!

Demo.
What is't withholds thee? Dost thou pause
To see this weapon?—Thus I cast it from me.
What would'st thou more? Behold I offer here
Thy greatest foe defenceless to thy rage.
Now glut thy secret hate, let me be punish'd
For giving birth to thee. Thou want'st but little
To be supreme in wickedness; already

128

Thou art travell'd far: it but remains to steep
Thy daring weapon in a parent's blood,
And give thy reeking hand to her thou lov'st.

Timan.
Enough, enough, my father! O forbear;
These keen reproaches stab me to the soul.
Behold this guilty weapon at your feet,
Behold your son offending kneels before you.
Take from him, if you will, this wretched life,
But speak not thus. I know I have transgress'd,
My fault's so great I dare not sue for pardon:
Yet sure the bitter scourge of your resentment
Is more than wretchedness like mine can bear.

Dir.
Ill-fated prince! What dost thou feel for me?

[aside.
Demo.
Had I not proofs so glaring of his perfidy,
He would seduce me—but I'll hear no more.
Yield, rebel! yield—submit thy impious hands
To slavish manacles.

Timan.
Where, where, my friends,
[to the guards.
Where are your chains? Behold these ready hands,
For never shall the son refuse to obey
The mandates of a just, offended father.

Dir.
Alas! my fears predicted but too true!

[aside.
Demo.
Lead back the victim to the insulted God,
Ye holy priests, and slay her in my presence.


129

Timan.
Alas! my life, I cannot now defend thee.

[to Dirce.
Dir.
How many deaths this day must I endure

Timan.
My king! my father!

Demo.
Leave me!

Timan.
Yet have pity!

Demo.
Thou ask'st in vain.

Timan.
It never shall be said
I suffer'd Dirce to be slain before me;
At least defer the stroke: hear, reverend priests!
My father hear! know Dirce ne'er can be
The victim Heaven requires—the sacrifice
Would prove a profanation.

Demo.
Speak, what mean'st thou?

Timan.
What does the God demand?

Demo.
A virgin's blood.

Timan.
Then Dirce must not here be led to death,
She's wedded—she's a mother—she's my wife.

Demo.
Ha!

Dir.
How I tremble for him!

[aside.
Demo.
Mighty Gods!
What do I hear! ye priests, suspend the rites,
Some other victim must be found. Are these
The hopes I fondly cherish'd? Impious son!
Respect'st thou thus divine and human laws?

130

And dost thou comfort thus thy father's age?

Dir.
Let not your wrath, my lord, be turn'd on him:
'Tis I am guilty: these unhappy charms
Caus'd all this wretchedness: 'twas I who studied
Too much to please him; I, with female wiles,
Seduc'd him first to love: 'twas I enforc'd him,
With frequent tears, to these forbidden nuptials.

Timan.
Believe it not, my lord—it is not so:
That she consented was my fault alone;
By me was every artifice employ'd:
A thousand times she banish'd me her sight,
As often I return'd: I vow'd, entreated,
Nay threaten'd, but in vain: at length she saw me
Reduc'd to all the madness of despair;
'Till in her presence, with a desperate hand,
My sword I drew, and menac'd even my life:
Then pity forc'd her to consent.

Dir.
And yet—

Demo.
Be silent both—I find an unknown something
Creep through my heart, that 'midst my just resentment,
Would soften me to tenderness and pity:
But, O! it must not be, their guilt's too great;
'Tis mine to give the world a bright example
Of steady virtue and impartial justice.
[aside.
What, ho!—let these be kept apart in prison

131

'Till we decree their fate.

Timan.
At least together—

Dir.
At least together in our utmost sufferings—

Demo.
Yes, yes, ingrates! one fortune shall be yours.
Perfidious pair! in life's estate
Since love your hands could bind;
Both shall partake one common fate,
Nor be by death disjoin'd.
Your crime was one; and both alike
One punishment shall know;
While just resentment now shall strike
By me the impartial blow.

[Exit.