University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

Enter Jocasta, Raving and Bloody.
Joc.
Off, Wretches, off, and leave me to enjoy
The pleasing Horrors of my hast'ning Fate.
You say you will have Blood, relentless Gods!
And here is some that's worthy your Demands.
My Sons shall not be favour'd to engross
The Guilt of Murther to themselves alone,
I am resolv'd to have my horrid Share.
Laius! Son! Husband! execrable Kindred!
Unbar th' infernal Gates to give me Entrance.
Let your dark World exult at my Approach,
And all Hell's Roof resound, Jocasta comes!
How's this! methinks the very Fiends avoid me!
Unwilling to cohabit with a Guest
Renown'd for Guilt so much beyond their own.
Turn not away, my Oedipus! I come not
To tempt you to the Crime of new Embraces,
But purge away the Foulness of our past.
Is Death so deaf he needs a second Summons?
This purple Current flows so slowly forth,
That it seems loth to leave my canker'd Veins.
Hark! some officious Foes will force Life on me:
But thus to disappoint 'em.—

[Stabs herself again.
Enter Antigona, Olympa, and Women.
Ant.
Blast my Eyes
Blind as my Father, let me stray for ever,
Rather than see this Sight! Consummate Horror!
Support her, call Assistance,—O my Mother!

Joc.
Away, away, I want not mortal Help.
No, rather call the Furies to my Aid,
Let them accompany my Journey down
To their own Regions. Ha! is that my Daughter!
Thou seest my Life on its departing Grasp;
Yet I'd do something for thee—Greatly thought!
By all my Fondness for thee, I will leave thee
A Legacy more worth than thousand Empires,
This Dagger—If thy Woes should e'er arise
To vie with mine, use it as I have done.

[Dies.
Ant.
Dire Present!—If my Woes should e'er arise
[Takes up the Dagger.
To vie with thine, use it as thou hast done.
Oh Queen! Oh Mother! This distracting Sight
Makes 'em already equal to thy own,
And it is time to take thy Counsel now.
Why do I loiter then, since summon'd thus?
Why cannot I pursue the gloomy Path?
What Motive keeps my rebel Nature back?
My slaughter'd Kindred, who in Fate's dark Shades
Wait my Arrival, with Upbraidings tell me
'Tis Love and Phocias keep me lingring here.
Yes, I confess my unresolving Soul
Declines at Phocias' Call, the dismal Brink.
But lo! the dreadful Tydings of the Duel!
Enter Alcander.
Alcander, you have seen the Combat?

Alc.
Madam, no.
By your Command I hasten'd, but in vain,
'Twas all decided. But by the Reports
Of the tumultuous Crowd, the King's no more,
And Polynices is the Conqueror:
They add, that Phocias' interposing Arm
Suspended for a while the doubtful Fight:
But Fate, and the two Princes' quenchless Hatred,
Made the Endeavours of his Virtue vain.

Ant.
I doubt it not; as generous as brave,
Phocias could never stand with tardy Sword
An unopposing Witness to their Crimes.
Was it in Valour to prevent their Fates,
Phocias had done it; but their Fiend-like Fury
Was not to be extinguish'd but by Blood.
Oh! glorious royal Race! to distant Times
Thy wretched Fame shall pass unrival'd down;
The future Princes of the Earth shall read
Thy guilty Annals with detesting Eyes.
O Polynices! thy abhorr'd Success
Has for its Punishment obtain'd a Throne
Where none will envy thy Possession, none
Plume with ambitious Hopes to be thy Heir.

Oly.
Yet Fortune has in this been less severe;
Had Polynices, whose more favourite Claim
Your anxious Bosom held in most regard,
Been the successless Combatant, you then
Would have had Reason to lament his Fall,
More than his Conquest now.

Ant.
Olympa, no.
'Tis true, he shar'd the Friendship of my Soul,
And left his Brother but the second Place
In my Esteem; and that by which he gain'd
My Heart the more, was that he was most virtuous,
As well as most unfortunate: But now
From this Success he lessens to my View;
The brave, th' oppress'd, the virtuous Polynices
Is in the Murtherer's impious Triumphs lost.
Hence I discard him from my loathing Breast;
His slaughter'd Brother's Shade supplies his Place;
In being wretched, he's become belov'd.

Enter Creon.
Cre.
Why this is more than my Ambition wish'd.
[Looking at Jocasta.
My Sister breathless! Well, there's one the less
Left to upbraid me with my Guilt's Success.
But to my Purpose with the Princess now.
I need not, fair Antigona! enquire
What new Affliction waters those bright Eyes,
Since the sad Cause is here too well explain'd.
Ah, Madam, now 'tis true the Gods are cruel!

Ant.
Creon, impute this Chain of Ills to none
But to their Author, and from thence abhor
Thy own infernal Arts, and gloomy Mind.
A Victim to thy Pride my Brother fell:
Add not Prophaneness to thy other Crimes;
Blame not the Gods, nor lay it on the Stars;
There's not one Planet Partner in the Guilt.
You to this fatal Duel led the King;
He follow'd your Advice, Death follow'd that;
But think not thou shalt triumph unpursu'd,
By angry Justice and th' offended Gods:
Read in my Brother's Fall thy own, nor hope
T' escape thy Share of Woe.

Cre.
In this Day's Slaughter
I have already felt it, since condemn'd
To mourn two Sons, as you two Brothers.

Ant.
Ah!
My Brothers and your Sons! I'th' Name of Heaven
Where tends this Mystery of Horror? speak it,
While yet I have remaining Life to hear thee,
Resolve the Fears thy Words have rais'd within me.
Tell any but the King?

Cre.
Now, now's the Time.
To pay myself my promis'd Score of Vengeance
For her Neglect of all my Vows of Love.
I will refine upon the shocking Tale,
And make the horrid Scene more horrid still:
And wound her in her very tend'rest Part,
Her foolish Passion for my rebel Son.
[Aside.
Alas! your Bosom has as yet escap'd
The Wounds this sanguine History will give it.

Ant.
I know that Polynices bore away
The Laurels of their impious Combat, know
That Phocias strove to separate their Swords,
But still he strove in vain.

Cre.
How Phocias' Name
Quick rises on her Tongue! Her amorous Heart
Is most solicitous to know his Doom:
Make that the Hint to torture her, good Brain.
[Aside.
Madam, the Fight was more inhuman far
Than Thought can image to the worst Despair.
Death made a Banquet; its rapacious Jaws
Disdain'd to take a single Victim in.
The Rage with which your Brothers parted hence,
Wing'd 'em impatient to the Place of Combat;
Between both Camps they chose the horrid Spot.
How they began the Fight, ye Furies speak it;
You only can relate, what only you inspir'd.
Who, tho' of Hearts of Adamant, but lost
Their savage Temper, melting to behold
Nature thus butcher'd by her impious Sons!
The Rage of Lyons, when in Hunger's Pangs
They from each other's Talons snatch the Prey;
The Force of Whirlwinds, and the Roar of Seas,
Are to the Heat of this Encounter calm.

Ant.
Good Heavens! And were there none that durst exert
The Patriot, and oppose their Hellish Aim?

Cre.
All that his Valour, or your own Commands
Could urge him to, th' unhappy Phocias try'd.
Undutiful and Rebel as he was,
His Fate demands the softning Father's Grief.
He threw himself between their Fury, join'd
Force with Entreaties to divert the Deaths
Their lifted Sabres threaten'd to exchange.
His valiant Friendship was repay'd with Threats;
Still he persisted; till at last the King
Push'd his fierce Javelin with accurst Success;
And whether at his Brother or my Son,
He aim'd its fatal Fury, Phocias fell
A Martyr to his Virtue and his Love.
Thanks to my good Invention, I've dispatch'd
My Rival; give her Time to relish that,
And my own Love may take a better Turn.

[Aside.
Ant.
Poison! Distraction! But no more, my Heart;
Down, Down, and keep thy swelling Anguish in,
Nor let this Hypocrite insult thy Woes.

Cre.
Faintly discerning me, with ebbing Voice
And soft'ning Tone, he cries, I die too happy
To have this Honour in my parting Breath,
To die for such a Princess as Antigona.
Nor fell he unreveng'd, for Polynices
With Rage redoubl'd for his slaughter'd Friend,
At last forc'd doubtful Fortune to his Side,
The King receiv'd a Thrust that pierc'd his Loins,
And Conquest flew on Polynices' Plume.

Ant.
Then Polynices triumphs?

Cre.
Princess, no.
Puff'd with his dire Success, the Conqu'ror view'd
His Royal Victim with insulting Eye,
And seem'd to feed with Transport on his Blood.
Now, Tyrant, says he, now the Kingdom's mine,
See Conquest and see Empire in my Hand.
Go to the Shades all cover'd with a Blush
At the Success of my victorious Arm;
And yet, to aggravate thy dying Gasp,
Traitor, remember that thou dy'st my Subject.

Ant.
O horrible to Nature!

Cre.
Thus he stood;
Th' insulted King, with Glowings of Revenge,
Observ'd his Pride, and feigning instant Death,
Ensnar'd th' exulting Conqueror to his Reach;
And in that Moment, when the inhuman Brother
Stoop'd eager to disarm th' expiring King,
He stabb'd him to the Heart, and straight his Soul,
Glutted with Vengeance at th' accomplish'd Push,
Rush'd from its Corse, and flew with Joy away;
While Polynices, at the fatal Wound
Groan'd deep, and furious, made his Tour below.

Ant.
The dread Narration is concluded now.
But, Creon, know the Oracle's Intent
Is left unfinish'd yet; our Royal Kindred
In vain have bled, in vain have paid their Debt
To Fate's Demands: Heaven's Vengeance still impends
O'er Thebes, while we survive; but you, indeed,
Have something may allure you to sustain
The Guilt of Life, the Kingdom now is yours:
Unrival'd you ascend the Royal Steps,
The Throne waits for you, and the People call you.
Go, take possession of your traitorous Purchase,
And satisfy their Wishes and your own.

Cre.
You bid me, Princess, to enjoy my Wishes,
'Tis in your power alone to make me do it,
'Tis not the empty Throne to which they tend,
Unless you'd deign to be my Partner there.

Ant.
I would refuse it from the Gods themselves,
And dare you offer me the impious Bribe?

Cre.
I know this Summit of Imperial Pride
Has, in the Circle of its Glory, nought
But sinks beneath the Lustre of your Eyes.
I'm conscious, I'm unworthy of the Bliss,
To which my Love aspires. But shew me, Princess,
Th' illustrious Path thro' which I may arrive
At the deserving Height, and by the Gods
Alcides' Toils shall be outdone by mine.

Ant.
Would you atone the Mischiefs you have wrought,
By worthy Means surmount my just Disdain,
There is one way;—observe, and copy me.

Cre.
What would I not resolve for such Rewards!
I am impatient to be happy—bless me
With your Commands.

Ant.
They shall attend you soon.

[Exit.
Attal.
Think you, my Lord, her Hate will be remov'd?

Cre.
Think you she's like her Sex? She's mine as firm
As my Extravagance of Love could wish.
She pauses, she deliberates, she yields—
Well-manag'd Story of her Lover's Death!
That Masterpiece of Thought has gain'd me all:
Dear Attalus, my Fortune's in her Zenith,
Shines full Meridian, and in perfect Noon.
I ask'd of Heaven a Princess and a Throne,
It gave a Scepter and Antigona.
And, in one Day to crown my Head and Love,
It made two jarring Passions aid my Schemes.
It lenify'd the Sister to my Hopes,
And harden'd the two Brothers; it enhanc'd
And whetted their Resentments, soften'd hers,
And at once gave me Entrance to the Throne,
And to her Heart.

Attal.
'Tis true, my gracious Lord,
All things seem prosperous to your Wishes, but—

Cre.
But—I'll allow no Obstacle to bar
The glorious Prospect of my coming Joys.
No, let me plunge into a Sea of Transport,
Display a Mind deserving my Success;
Discourse of what I've gain'd, not what I fear.
Talk of my Throne, talk of my Antigona.

Attal.
My Lord, behold Alcander drown'd in Tears!

Enter Alcander.
Alc.
Horror on Horror!

Cre.
What portend these Sounds?
Resolve me, is Antigona the Cause?

Alc.
Alas! my Lord, your Fears suggest too true.

Cre.
Then Heaven is Heaven no more; it cannot be.

Alc.
Soon as she parted hence, as if her Mind
Had long before resolv'd the bloody Deed,
With the same Ponyard that th' expiring Queen
Bequeath'd her as a Legacy to use
Just in the last Necessity of Woe,
Her dauntless Arm made Passage to her Heart.
See where she welters in her Blood, and lies
Like Roses strew'd on Snow. Ne'er did Death look
So shocking and so beautiful before.

Cre.
Well then, thou'rt fled, thou scornful Beauty, fled:
Thy cruel self hast darken'd those bright Eyes,
And shut 'em from the Sun, and Earth, and me.
Disdainful Girl! you hasten'd to the Grave,
More to shun Creon, than to follow Phocias.
Curst Policy, by my own Arts undone!
And did I feign his Death for this Event?
Think not, proud Beauty, to escape me thus,
I'll follow you below; from Gloom to Gloom
I'll go, and spite of you, I'll gaze upon you;
And you shall always have before your Eyes
The Object of your Hatred and Disdain.
My Sighs shall always eccho Love and Woe,
And tell my Pains to your unwilling Ears,
And if they cannot soften, shall torment.

Attal.
Alas! my Lord, I tremble to behold
The desperate Rage that flashes from your Eyes.

Cre.
Hence with thy foolish Fears. Can Dæmons fear?
I'm turn'd one—Furies, Vengeance, Thunder, Hell!
Come and assist me in this fatal Period.
Come, and shut up th' abominable Light;
Take from these loathing Eyes the Sun away;
Shut up my Eyes indeed—For ever shut 'em,
Rather than let me view what Hell produces.
Who's there? The eyeless Oedipus! To me
Comes he? What fatal Errand is he charg'd with?
He is not fit to be my Guide below,
Who gropes his Way himself. No, here they come
[Thunder and Lightning.
That more accuse me.—Do you want the Crown?
I'll keep it in Compassion, to prevent
Your Quarrels for't below—Jocasta too!
Hell will be empty if they come too fast,
Are you not most amaz'd?

Attal.
We are indeed;
To see your noble Senses thus misled,
To hold Discourse and quarrel with the Air.

Cre.
Look, look again! Is that Chimæra too?
Antigona! O Princess! beauteous Shade!
More welcome, tho' more fear'd than all the rest!
Who would not be as deep in Guilt as I,
To have his Levee throng'd with Guests like these?
Darkness envelope me, I can no more
Sustain the Flash of those accusing Eyes,
The same contracted Brow, and Air of Scorn,
As, when alive, she heard me sigh in vain.
Yes, I'll obey thy Summons, barbarous Fair;
Shew me no longer those upbraiding Wounds;
I'll give you ample Vengeance, Blood for Blood.
What, going? Thus, to bear you company.

[Stabs himself.
Attal.
My Lord, what Frenzy is this?

Cre.
Forbear your Aid;
'Tis not in Art to remedy this Blow:
I would not lose this promis'd Death for Kingdoms.
Call it not Frenzy, Attalus! Alas!
'Tis but Repentance for an Age of Guilt.

Enter Phocias.
Pho.
Fatal Continuance of the Theban Woes!
My Father weltring in his Blood!

Cre.
Alas!
Why come'st thou to torment me with thy Grief?
I am, my Son, unworthy of thy Fears;
Thy evil Fate too soon will give thee Cause
To curse thy Father, and abhor thy Being,
When thou shalt know by my curst Politicks
Antigona was sacrific'd; I caus'd
Her Death by feigning thine. But Oh forgive
And pity me, since I am going now
To make the same Petition to the Gods.

[Dies.
Pho.
Oh! that Heaven's Mercy would as soon acquit
As I, tho' made so wretched by thy Arts,
In losing (do I live to name my Loss!)
Antigona, the Price of Earth's whole Empire;
Soul of my Soul, and my Heart's vital Blood.

Alc.
My Lord, the Theban Crown devolves on you.

Pho.
Oh fatal Acquisition, dreadful News!
No, Sirs, recall your proffer'd Dignity.

[Exeunt.