University of Virginia Library

SCENE VII.

Enter from different parts Creusa, Demophoon, Adrastus leading Olinthus by the hand, and Dirce.
Creu.
Timanthes—

Timan.
Princess! ah! pursue me not—
Leave, leave me to myself.

Demo.
My dearest son.

Timan.
Ah! no—I must not hear that tender name.

Creu.
Perhaps thou know'st not—

Timan.
O! I know too much.

Demo.
Receive this fond embrace, thy pledge of pardon:
But say why dost thou shun thy father's arms?

Timan.
I dare not look on thee—

Creu.
What can this mean?

Demo.
What has befallen thee?—

Adras.
See! behold your son:
Be comforted, my lord.

Timan.
Take hence, Adrastus,
Take hence that child, O! bear him from my sight.

Dir.
My much-lov'd lord!—

Timan.
Begone, avoid me, Dirce.

Dir.
And wilt thou drive me from thee on this day
Of general joy?

Timan.
Where shall I fly to hide me!

[going.
Dir.
O hold!

Demo.
Yet hear me!

Creu.
Stay—

Timan.
'Tis all in vain;
You seek to ease, and stab me to the heart.

Demo.
But say, whom fly'st thou from?

Timan.
From men and Gods!
From you and from myself—

Dir.
And whither go'st thou?

Timan.
Where the sun never shines, where nothing lives,
Where my remembrance may be lost for ever!

Demo.
Think on thy father.

Adras.
On thy son—

Dir.
Thy wife—

Timan.
O speak not thus! Wife, father, son and brother,
Are names endearing to a mind at peace;
To me they are sounds of horror.

Creu.
Say the cause.

Timan.
Seek not to know it—drown me in oblivion.

Dir.
By those dear moments when I pleas'd thee first—

Timan.
Dirce, forbear—

Dir.
By all those solemn ties—

Timan.
O hold, in pity hold!

Dir.
If thou no more
Regard'st thy wife, at least thy son may move thee:
Look on him—'tis the same that oft has touch'd
Thy breast with tenderness: look on him still;
'Tis thy own blood—

Timan.
Would Heaven he were not so!

Dirce.
What crime could he commit that thus thou shunn'st him?
Why dost thou turn away thy face—O see,
See how he reaches out his little hands,
And speaks to thee with smiles of innocence!

Timan.
Ah! couldst thou now be sensible of that
Which, hapless boy! thou must hereafter know,
Thou wouldst not thus with fondness hover round me!

[Exit.