 | Creusa, Queen of Athens |  |
50
ACT IV.
The Laurel Grove.Phorbas and Athenians.
Phorbas.
This Way, my Friends; at the Pavilion Doors
Stand ready arm'd, that if we need your Aid
You may observe the Sign, and crush at once
These vile Usurpers on the Rights of Athens.
I hope we want ye not.—I must be hid
A while, lest Xuthus should suspect my Presence.
The Queen too may repent, I'll therefore shun her
Till the Deed's done, irrevocably done.
Aside.
—But stir not till I come.—What Noise is that?
Retire, my Friends, the Temple's Postern Door
Grates on its Hinge.—Be secret, and we prosper.
[Exeunt severally.
Enter Aletes and Pythia.
Aletes.
This Quarrel was unlucky. A slight Breach
Had lent my Purpose Strength; but wrought thus high
It may defeat our Hopes. She cannot now
With Ease recede from her too rash Resolves,
At least not unsuspected. Did she, say'st thou,
Reject thy Message?
51
Scarcely did she pay
The decent Dues my sacred Office claims.
And when I prest her more, with sullen Pride
She silently withdrew.
Aletes.
See her I must.
Where went she?
Pythia.
To the Shades which over-hang
Th'Aonian Fount.
Aletes.
I will pursue her thither.
Pythia.
It may not be, for now I know thy Secret
'Tis my turn to be prudent, Know'st thou not
Thou should'st be cautious, nor expose thyself
To prying Eyes? I heard her, as she pass'd,
In broken Whispers bid Lycea haste
To Phorbas, and inform that trusty Friend
That she would wait him in the Laurel Grove.
Here then thou may'st surprise them both, and crown
At once thy whole Design.
Aletes.
Thou counsell'st well,
And I will guide me by thy kind Advice.
O Pythia, how did every thing conspire
To give me hopes that I should place the Boy
Secure on Athens' Throne, unknown to all
But those whom Fate had made his firmest Friends.
The very Means I us'd to make it sure
Have been most adverse to the Cause I labour'd.
Had I relied on Xuthus' Piety,
52
And let me hope it still. What most I fear
Is the Queen's Warmth of Passion. To which end
I must proceed with Tenderness, and hide
For some short time Ilyssus from her Knowledge.
I have unnumber'd Cautions to premise
Which her o'erflowing Joy may haply ruin.
The Banquet, is it ready?
Pythia.
It has long
In vain expected its illustrious Guests.
The King already has forgot his Rage,
And hopes returning Thought may move the Queen
To equal Amity: He therefore finds
Continual Causes to delay the Feast.
Aletes.
Retire. Perhaps 'tis she; I hear the Steps
Of some who move this way.
[Exit Pythia.
What means he here?
Why art thou absent from the Banquet, Youth?
Enter Ilyssus.
Ilyssus.
It has no Joys for me. I fear, Aletes,
Thou and the Pythia have most foully play'd
For my Advancement.
Aletes.
Ha!
Ilyssus.
Where are the Parents
Whom thou didst promise to my Hopes? Alas
I find no Parents here, no kind Regards,
No inexpressive Fondness. Stern Debate,
And foul Dissention kindle here their Torch
To usher in my Greatness. Ev'n Creusa,
53
My throbbing Heart with Hopes, and Doubts, and Fears,
Unfelt before, ev'n she has taught her Eyes
To look with Strangeness on me. The good King,
Who yet withdraws not his Protection from me,
Seems lost in anxious Thought.—Unkind Aletes,
Art thou the Cause of this? Say, am I sprung
Of Race Æolian? For by Heaven I swear,
By that pure Fountain of immortal Truth,
I will not brook Deceit. I will again,
Howe'er the glitt'ring Mischief tempt my Youth,
Become that humble unknown Thing I was,
Rather than wear a Crown by Falshood gain'd.
Speak then, and give me Ease.
Aletes.
My dearest Boy—
His Virtue charms me, tho' it may prevent
His own Success. O happy, happy Athens,
To gain a King like him, whose honest Soul
Starts at imagin'd Fraud!
Aside.
Ilyssus.
Speak on, Aletes,
And do not by that Look of Tenderness;
And murm'ring to thyself, alarm me more.
Aletes.
What should I speak? This very Morn, Ilyssus,
This very Morn I told thee a few Hours
Would shew thee what thou wert; but thy Impatience
Brooks not that short Delay. It seems Aletes
Has lost his usual Credit with Ilyssus,
Ev'n with the Youth his anxious Care has form'd.
Think'st thou the Man who taught thy feeling Heart
To start at Falshood, would himself commit
54
Which should induce thee to a Thought so base?
Did e'er my Precepts contradict my Heart?
Did I e'er teach a Virtue I not practis'd?
—I see thou art confounded. Know then, Youth,
I blame not thy Impatience, nay I praise
That Modesty which can so soon resume
Its Seat, when all things round are big with Wonder,
Ere Night thou shalt know all; till then, Ilyssus,
Behave as Athens' King.
Ilyssus.
O good Aletes,
Forgive my Rashness. Yes, I know thee honest
As Truth itself, and know the wond'rous Debt
I owe thy Goodness. Yet, if thou confess
That I have Reason for these anxious Cares,
Thou wilt permit me still to question thee.
Nay look upon me whilst I speak to thee.
Perhaps thou hast some secret Cause, Aletes,
For all that kind Attention thou hast shewn me,
From Infancy till now? Why do'st thou turn
Thy Eyes to Earth? 'Tis plain thou hast a Cause:
Thou know'st from whom I spring; how can'st thou else
With Confidence assert, that yet ere Night
I shall know all?—Say this at least, Aletes,
Shall the Queen's Anger cease?
Aletes.
It shall, Ilyssus.
Ev'n now I wait her here; on what Design
I must not yet inform thee. The next Time
Thou shalt behold her thou wilt find a Change
Incredible indeed, from Rage to Fondness,
From cold Reserve to Tears of bursting Joy.
[Ilyssus is going to speak eagerly.
55
Relating to the Cause which fix'd me here
Thy Guardian, thy Instructor, and—the Time
Will come, when thou shalt know it all, Ilyssus,
And bless my Memory.
Ilyssus.
Thou weep'st, Aletes.
My Tears will mingle too.
Aletes.
Forbear, and leave me.
Yet stay a while, for now perhaps we part
To meet no more.
Ilyssus.
No more! Thou wilt not leave me
When most I want thy Care! 'Twas my first Thought,
'Twas the first Boon I ask'd of the good King,
That thou might'st be my kind Instructor still.
He prais'd my Gratitude, and I had promis'd
To bring him to thy Cottage. He himself
Shall be a Suitor to thee.
Aletes.
Thou hast ask'd
Thou know'st not what: It cannot be, Ilyssus,
That Xuthus and Aletes e'er should meet
On terms of Amity. The Smiles of Greatness
To me have lost their Value. For thy Love
I could do much, and to be sever'd from thee
Pulls at my Heart-strings. But resistless Fate
Has fix'd its Seal, and we must part for ever,
How hard soe'er it seem. Thy Youth will soon,
Amidst the busy Scenes of active Greatness,
Forget its Monitor: But I must bear
In hopeless Solitude the Pangs of Absence
56
Ilyssus.
O heav'nly Powers
Then there is something dreadful yet conceal'd.
I cannot part from thee in Ignorance.
Tell me, Aletes.
Aletes.
Would I could! But now
It must not be.—Haste to the Banquet, Youth,
Thy Duty calls thee thither.
Ilyssus.
Go I cannot,
Till thou assur'st me we shall meet again.
Aletes.
If possible we will. If not, remember,
When thou shalt know thyself, that on thyself
Thy Fate depends; that Virtue, Glory, Happiness,
Are close connected, and their sad Reverse
Is Vice, is Pain, is Infamy.—Alas!
These were the Lessons of thy private Life,
This I have told thee oft, but my fond Tongue
Runs o'er its former Precepts, and forgets
Thou now must mount a Throne; a larger Scene
Of Duty opens.
Ilyssus.
Yet the tender Friend.
Who should direct me, leaves me to myself.
Can'st thou abandon me?
Aletes.
Would Fate permit
I would attend thee still. But oh, Ilyssus,
Whate'er becomes of me, when thou shall reach
That envied Pinacle of earthly Greatness,
57
Ev'n there, amidst the kindest Smiles of Fortune,
Forget not thou wert once distress'd and friendless.
Be strictly just; but yet, like Heaven, with Mercy
Temper thy Justice. From thy purged Ear
Banish base Flattery, and spurn the Wretch
Who would persuade thee thou art more than Man;
Weak, erring, selfish Man, endued with Power
To be the Minister of public Good.
If Conquest charm thee, and the Pride of War
Blaze on thy Sight, remember thou art placed
The Guardian of Mankind, nor build thy Fame
On Rapines, and on Murders. Should soft Peace
Invite to Luxury, the pleasing Bane
Of happy Kingdoms, know from thy Example
The Bliss or Woe of nameless Millions springs,
Their Virtue, or their Vice. Nor think by Laws
To curb licentious Man; those Laws alone
Can bend the headstrong Many to their Yoke,
Which make it present Int'rest to obey them.
O Boy!—
Enter Pythia hastily.
Pythia.
Ilyssus! wherefore art thou here?
The King expects thee, and the Banquet waits.
Ilyssus.
I cannot go.
Aletes.
Thou must; thy Fate depends
Upon thy Absence now. The Queen approaches.
After the Banquet I again will see thee,
And thou shalt know the whole. I will by Heaven.
[Exit Ilyssus.
58
[Exit Pythia.
She saw them not; on her contracted Brow
Sits brooding Care. She speaks! My Heart beats thick,
And my Tongue trembles to perform its Office.
Now Fate attend, and perfect thine own Work!
Enter Creusa.
Creusa.
To what have I consented!—Ha! who art thou
That thus intrud'st on sacred Privacy,
When the o'erburthen'd Mind unloads its Griefs,
Its hoarded Miseries.
Aletes.
Thy better Genius!
Creusa.
That Voice is sure familiar to my Ear!
Who art thou, speak.
Aletes.
One whom Adversity
Has taught to know himself. I bring thee tidings
Of an unhappy Man who wrong'd thee much,
But much repented of the Wrongs he did thee;
Of thy Nicander, Queen.
Creusa.
Nicander, say'st thou?
O then thou art indeed my better Genius.
Aletes.
Now, arm thy Soul for Wonders yet to come!
Perhaps he lives.
Creusa.
He lives?
[Looking on him with Amazement.
59
[After great Irresolution and Struggles with himself.
Behold him here!
[She faints.
—What has my Rashness done?—The Blush of Life
Has left her Cheek, the Pulse forgets to move.
Where shall I turn? I cannot call for Aid,
Nor can I leave her thus.—She breathes, she stirs!
—Yes, yes, Creusa, thy Nicander lives,
And he will catch at least this dear Embrace
Tho' now thou art another's.
Creusa.
Gracious Gods!
It is, it is Nicander, 'tis my Lord!
O I am only thine, no Power on Earth
Shall e'er divide us more.
—It cannot be, my Senses all deceive me—
And yet it is.—O let me gaze upon thee,
Recall each Trace which marks thee for my own,
And gives me back the Image of my Heart.
How Time and Grief have chang'd thee! But my Love
Can know no Change. My Lord, my Life, my Husband!
Where hast thou wander'd? how hast thou been hid
From Love's all-piercing Sight? the bloody Ruffians,
How didst thou 'scape their Rage? or did they wreak
Upon the helpless Innocent alone
Their impious Vengeance?
Nicander.
Nor on me, nor him
Did Vengeance fall.
Creusa.
Does he too live?
Nicander.
He does.
60
[Aside.
O honest Phorbas! Murder now is Virtue.
Nicander.
The fabled Murder was all Stratagem
Contriv'd for thy dear sake; no impious Ruffians
Pursued our Steps, I found that I had wrong'd thee
Beyond redress, nor knew another means
But by my Death to save thee from Dishonor.
Despair I thought might conquer Love, and thou
Once more be Athens' Pride. The precious Charge
Forbad a real Death, I therefore stain'd
With Blood my well-known Garments, which produc'd.—
Creusa.
A curst'd Effect.—But I have nearer Fears.
How cam'st thou hither? wherefore to these Shades?
The Boy, where is he?
Nicander.
Far from hence—
Creusa.
Thank Heaven!
Nicander.
He lives in Peace and Safety.—What disturbs thee?
Creusa.
Nothing—I dare not tell him what I feared,
His honest Breast might shudder at the Guilt,
Tho' now it be more needful.—The dear Boy,
Say, is he brave?
Nicander.
As Woman could desire.
Creusa.
And form'd like thee?
Nicander.
His Person far exceeds
61
And his firm Mind is Wisdom's aged Strength
With all Youth's Graces soften'd.
Creusa.
'Tis too much.
O happy Mother! Call'st thou him Nicander?
Nicander.
No, Ion, 'twas the Name the Matron chose,
Who gave him to my Care.
Creusa.
Then Ion be it.
Ion shall reign in Athens. Know'st thou, Love,
The curs'd Design which this Æolian here,
And the vile Maid—
Nicander.
The Priestess, it should seem,
With Xuthus has conspir'd to fix his Race
On Athens' Throne.
Creusa.
But never shall his Race
That Scepter wield.
Nicander.
It never shall, Creusa.
I have a Means—
Creusa.
[Aside.
My Means, thank Heaven, is surer.
Nicander.
But I will tell thee all from first to last.
Hear then and weigh my Words, for Fate is in them.
Xuthus, th'Athenian King—
Creusa.
I think not of him.
62
Beware of that. Whate'er thou think'st, Creusa,
Xuthus must still reign on, thy Lord and Husband.
Creusa.
Xuthus my Lord! then what art thou, Nicander?
Do'st thou despise me for a Crime thyself
Hast forc'd me to commit? My Soul was thine
Ev'n when I gave my Hand, and still remains
Untainted, undefil'd.
Nicander.
I know it well,
Thou dearest, best of Women.—My torn Heart
Drops Blood while I propose it, yet we must,
We must for ever part.—Forbear, Creusa,
That killing Look strikes thro' me.—Think, O think,
What in this Age of Absence I have borne,
How combated each tender Thought, and liv'd
For thy dear Sake a Victim to Despair.
But now if thou consent'st, all, all is mine,
And I forgive my Fate.—The dear, dear Boy,
I have a Means to place him on the Throne
Secure as we could wish.
Creusa.
Secure he shall be,
I will proclaim him to the World as mine,
And Athens shall with Joy receive its Sov'reign;
The Tyrant Xuthus shall be taught to fear
A Master's Frown.
Nicander.
Thy Rashness, my Creusa,
May ruin all.
Creusa.
I will be rash, if this
63
A Mother's Heart-felt Joy, whose only Child
Snatch'd from the Grave unhop'd for comes to claim,
With every Grace and every Virtue crown'd,
Th'Imperial Seat of his great Ancestors.
And shall we wait a Means?
Nicander.
We need not wait;
For by my Care th'important Means is found
Already, and no human Power but thine
Can hinder our Success. I would have hid
The Secret from thee till thy wish'd Consent
Had giv'n my Purpose Strength, but thou defeat'st
My utmost Caution, and wilt force me tell thee,
Ilyssus is young Ion!—Ha! Creusa!
Thou art not mad! Good Heaven! how her Eye fixes!
What have I done? what said, which could attack
The Seats of Sense with this amazing Force?
My Wife, my Queen, O speak?—
Creusa.
Off, touch me not,
Thou can'st not bring Relief.—O I am curs'd
Beyond all Power of Aid. Thou too art curs'd
And know'st it not.—He dies, he dies, Nicander!
Nicander.
Amazement! who?
Creusa.
O had he not been mine,
His Youth, his Softness, each attracting Grace—
I should have staid whole Ages ere in Thought
I had consented to so damn'd a Deed.
Tears, Tears, why burst ye not?—But what have I
To do with Tears? those are for tender Mothers.
64
He dies, he dies, Nicander.
Nicander.
Who? Ilyssus?
Speak, speak, Creusa.
Creusa.
Phorbas urg'd the Deed,
And I consented; at the Feast he dies
By Poison.—O my Soul!
Nicander.
Fly then, this Instant
Perhaps thou may'st prevent it, as thou cam'st
He parted hence.—I knew not to his Death!
Creusa.
I go, I fly.
Nicander.
Yet stay, thy Rashness there,
If Fate has sav'd him, may undo us yet.
—The Pythia! true, the Pythia shall rush in
To stop the fatal Banquet, and declare
The Feast unhallow'd; at this lucky Moment
She waits me in the Temple.—Stay, Creusa.
[Exit Nicander.
Creusa.
The Pythia, no; I will myself outstrip
The Lightning's Speed. Whatever be th'Event,
'Tis not too late to die.
[Exit.
The End of the Fourth ACT.
| Creusa, Queen of Athens | |