University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

An apartment where Themistocles is confined.
Themistocles
alone.
O! Athens! O! my country! sacred name
To me so fatal. Sweet till now it seem'd
For thee to bend my cares, for thee to shed
My dearest blood. With patience I endur'd
Thy harsh decrees: amidst my woes resign'd,
I rov'd from shore to shore; but to preserve
My faith to thee, I find myself compell'd
To appear ingrate; and to a king so generous,
Who, powerful and incens'd, forgets the claims
Of past resentment; clasps me to his breast;
Heaps honours on me; and to me intrusts
His dignity and empire. Pardon, Athens,
This is too much. Thou still shalt be the God
Of all my thoughts, as thou hast ever been;
But now I feel, and first begin to feel
How dear my duty costs me.

SCENE II.

Enter Sebastes.
Seb.
Xerxes sends
By me, Themistocles, and wills to know
At once thy final choice: he trusts to find thee
Repentant of thine error: this he hopes;
And says, he never can so far believe
Themistocles ungrateful.

Them.
Never, never
Shall such reproach be mine: this witness, Heaven!
That sees my heart,—O! could my king as well
There read Themistocles.—Conduct me, friend,
Conduct me to him.

Seb.
'Tis not now permitted.
First on the sacred altar come prepar'd
To swear eternal enmity to Greece,
Or hope no more to view the face of Xerxes.

Them.
And must I, at no other price, obtain
To see my benefactor?

Seb.
No.—swear this,
And thou art Xerxes' friend; but this refus'd,
I tremble for thy fate: in this thou know'st
The king implacable.

Them.
[aside.]
Then must I prove
A rebel to my country, or be stain'd
With base ingratitude? Before the world
Might I not plead my love, my faith to Xerxes,
Or dying own his benefits conferr'd?

[thoughtful.
Seb.
Resolve.

Them.
[aside.]
It shall be so—let us escape
This cruel labyrinth, and be the means
Worthy Themistocles. [to Seb.]
Go now, prepare
The altar, beverage and the sacred vase,
Whate'er the oath requires—my choice is made:
I follow thee.

Seb.
With speed I bear to Xerxes
The gladsome tidings.

Them.
Hear me.—Say, is yet
Lysimachus departed?

Seb.
From the port
His anchors now are loos'd.

Them.
O! haste, detain him;
Let him be present at the solemn rite:
Sebastes, bear my wishes to the king.

Seb.
It shall be so. Thou now may'st rule at will
The heart of Xerxes.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Themistocles
alone.
Be my life's last hour
With splendor clos'd; and, like a dying torch,
Quench'd in a blaze.—Ho! guards, call hither to me
Neocles and Aspasia.—Let me think—
What is this death? Is it a good? We then
Should haste to welcome it.—Is it an evil?
We then should shorten our expectance of it:
The greater evil.—He deserves not life
Who rates his fame beneath it.—Life is still
The privilege of every mortal born,
But fame th' exclusive privilege, the treasure
Of noble minds.—The vile may fear his death,
Who, lost to others, to himself unknown,
Died at his birth, and with him carries all
Unnotic'd to the tomb.—He dauntless yields
His latest breath, who can, without a blush,
View how he liv'd, and viewing, calmly die.

SCENE IV.

Enter Neocles and Aspasia.
Neoc.
My dearest father.

Asp.
O! my much-lov'd lord.

Neoc.
Is it then true, that you will choose a life
Of gratitude to Xerxes?

Asp.
Is it true
That you at length have yielded to compassion
For us and for yourself?

Them.
Be silent both,
And calmly hear me—Know ye well the obedience
A father's will requires?

Neoc.
That law is sacred.

Asp.
A tie that nothing can dissolve.

Them.
'Tis well.
I charge you to conceal what I impart
Till all I have determin'd with myself
Shall be mature.

Neoc.
His promise Neocles
Most firmly plights.

Asp.
To this Aspasia swears.

Them.
Sit then; and give me each a proof of courage
In listening to my words.

[sits.
Neoc.
[aside.]
I freeze with terror!

[sits.
Asp.
[aside.]
Alas! I tremble.

[sits.
Them.
Hear me, O! my children,
'Tis the last time we e'er shall speak together:
Till now I've liv'd with glory; if my life
Be still prolong'd, I lose perhaps the fruit
Of every toil—Themistocles must die.

Asp.
What says my father?

Neoc.
O! what thoughts are these?

Them.
The noble Xerxes is my liberal patron,
My country, Greece: to him my gratitude,
To her I owe my truth.—Each duty now
Opposes each: if either I infringe,
Rebellion or ingratitude must stain
Your father's name: by death I may avoid
The dread alternative.—With me I carry
A potent friendly poison—

Asp.
O! my father,
Have you not given but now your word to Xerxes
To meet him at the altar?

Them.
In his presence
The deed must be completed.

Neoc.
But Sebastes
Affirm'd, that at the altar you would take
A solemn oath—

Them.
I know he so believes:
This suits my purpose well; with such a hope
Xerxes prepares to hear me.—I would wish
All Persia to behold the glorious deed;
Would call, to every thought my breast conceals,
To all I feel for Athens and for Xerxes,
As judge and witness, a recording world.

Neoc.
[aside.]
O! wretched, wretched we!

Asp.
Undone Aspasia!

[they weep.
Them.
Ah! children, whence this weakness? Hide from me
Such unavailing grief, nor make me blush
That I'm your father.—You indeed might weep
If e'er Themistocles had fear'd to die.

Asp.
When you are dead, ah! whither shall we fly?

Neoc.
What then remains for us?

Them.
For you remain
The love of virtue, the desire of glory,
The guardian care of Heaven and my example.

Asp.
Alas! my father.

Them.
Hear me: I must leave you,
Alone and orphans, in a foreign land,
Amidst your foes, without the due support
That nature claims; and little yet experienc'd
In all the fickle turns of human life.
And hence (I well foresee) you both must suffer,
And suffer much; but ever bear in mind
You are the children of Themistocles:
Let this suffice; and may your deeds proclaim you
In every trial worthy of the name.
Let the first objects of your thought be honour,
Your country, and that duty which the Gods
Have call'd you to fulfil; and know the mind
In every state can make itself illustrious,
And still employ the choicest gifts of Heaven,
To grace no less the cottage than the throne.
Sink not beneath the weight of adverse fortune:
Evils too great to bear will never last,
And evils we can bear, may be subdued.
Let virtue urge you still to deeds of praise,
And not the recompense.—Abhor the guilt,
And not the punishment; and if your fate
Should e'er impel you to an act unworthy,
One way remains—and learn that way from me.

[rises.
Neoc.
O! do not leave us yet.

[rises.
Asp.
My dearest father!
And shall I never, never see you more?

Them.
[embrace.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

Aspasia, Neocles.
Asp.
O! Neocles.

Neoc.
Aspasia.

Asp.
O! my brother!

Neoc.
What dreadful stroke is this!

Asp.
O! most unhappy!
And whither shall we go?

Neoc.
To prove us worthy
Of such a father, [firmly.]
Let us hence, my sister,
And see, intrepid see, Themistocles
Thus triumph o'er himself.—Our noble bearing
Will make his death more pleasing.

Asp.
Let us go:
—Alas! I cannot—still my trembling feet—

[sits.
Neoc.
And will you thus disgrace the birth you boast?

Asp.
And can your constancy support the sight?

Neoc.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Aspasia
alone.

[Exit.

SCENE VII.

Xerxes
alone.
Where is my general? Where Themistocles?
Let him no longer keep from his embrace
A king that loves him.

SCENE VIII.

Enter Roxana with a paper.
Rox.
Xerxes, I am come
In search of thee.

Xer.
[aside.]
Unfortunate encounter!

Rox.
Hear me; and let this hearing be the last.

Xer.
Full well I know, Roxana, that your anger
Is kindled now against me: well I know
You threaten me with vengeance.

Rox.
'Tis most true,
I would revenge—I am indeed the offended:
Then learn my vengeance. Xerxes, know thy life
And sceptre are in danger. In this paper
Read all the black design: prevent the treason,
Preserve thyself—farewell.

[going.
Xer.
Yet hear me, princess:
At least permit me for this generous gift—

Rox.

[Exit.

SCENE IX.

Xerxes
alone.
This paper to Sebastes is consign'd,
And written by Orontes.—Let us now—
[reads.
O Heaven! what impious treachery! Sebastes
Is then the secret author of the tumults
In Egypt rais'd; while ever at my side,
With well-dissembled zeal—Behold him here;
And dares the traitor now appear before me?

SCENE X.

Enter Sebastes.
Seb.
At length I come, O Xerxes, to request
A recompense for all my truth and toils.

Xer.
So great indeed, Sebastes, are thy merits
Thou well may'st hope for every thing from Xerxes.
What would'st thou? Speak.

Seb.
Themistocles departs
To conquer Athens: but for Egypt's bands
No chief as yet is nam'd: of these I ask
From Xerxes the command.

Xer.
Would'st thou no more?

Seb.
Sebastes only seeks to give to Xerxes
Proofs of his zeal.

Xer.
Already have I many.
This task is worthy thee: but know'st thou well
The soil of Egypt?

Seb.
All her mountains, rivers,
Her forests, ways, defiles; I could describe
Her very rocks.

Xer.
All this will not suffice:
It much imports to know the names of those
By whom the tumults have been rais'd.

Seb.
Orontes,
And he alone.

Xer.
I deem'd that other chiefs
With him were join'd: this paper bears the names;
See if to thee they're known.

[gives the paper.
Seb.
And whence, my lord,
Receiv'd you this?—O Heaven! what do I see!

Xer.
How now! thou art disturb'd; thy colour changes—
What, art thou silent?

Seb.
[aside.]
Ah! I am betray'd.

Xer.

[Exit.

SCENE XI.

Sebastes
alone.

[Exit.

SCENE XII.

The palace. An altar with fire kindled, and upon the altar the cup prepared for the oath.
Xerxes, Aspasia, Neocles, Satraps, Guards and People.
Xer.
Why, Neocles, so sad? Whence, fair Aspasia,
Those starting tears? Now, when the father comes
To swear to me his faith, the children mourn.
Are then the friendship and the love of Xerxes
By you disastrous deem'd? Speak.

Asp., Neoc.
O! ye Powers!

SCENE XIII.

Enter Roxana, Lysimachus and Greeks.
Rox.
What would'st thou with Roxana?

Lys.
Xerxes, say,
Why am I summon'd hither?

Xer.
'Tis my will
Roxana and Lysimachus be present.

Lys.
To witness now some new affront to Athens?

Rox.
To bear again my injuries unmov'd?

Lys.
To see the inconstancy of false Aspasia?

Asp.
You are deceiv'd: afflict me not unjustly,
Cruel Lysimachus. Believe me still
The same Aspasia, nor oppress a mind
Already sunk with grief.

Xer.
What do I hear!
Are you then lovers?

Asp.
To conceal it longer
Were hopeless: I've already said too much.

Xer.
And didst thou not, Aspasia, promise Xerxes
To give to him thy hand?

Asp.
A father's life
Requir'd this sacrifice.

Xer.
[to Lys.]
And didst not thou
Seek to his foes to render up the father
Of her thy soul ador'd?

Lys.
So Athens will'd.

Xer.
[aside.]
Transcendent virtue!

Rox.
See the Grecian leader
Is now at hand.

Neoc.
[aside.]
Why wears not Neocles
A look like his, intrepid and serene?

[looking out on his father.
Asp.
O! feeble heart, how dost thou tremble now!

SCENE XIV.

Enter Themistocles.
Xer.
At length, Themistocles, thou hast resolv'd
To be the friend of Xerxes: once again
Return to meet the embraces of a king
Who honours thus—

[advances to embrace him.
Them.
Forbear.

[drawing back respectfully.
Xer.
And why forbear?

Them.
I am not worthy yet—My merits now
Rest on the solemn act that brings me here.

Xer.
See on the altar, for the rite prepar'd,
The cup with beverage crown'd.—Themistocles,
Approach, and, with the vow requir'd, begin
The chastisement of Greece.

Them.
Attend me, Xerxes:
Know first, thou art deceiv'd: I promis'd here
My presence, not my oath.

Xer.
How!

Them.
Hear me, Xerxes,
And thou, Lysimachus, hear all ye people,
Assembled thus spectators, hear and judge
Themistocles with truth; and each be now
His witness and defender.—Adverse fate
Compels me here to incur the guilt of treason,
Or black ingratitude: no choice remains
But this, to hold or to relinquish life,
The liberal gift of Heaven.—To keep me still
Without a crime I see one only way,
The way that leads to death—that choice be mine.

Lys.
What do I hear!

Xer.
Eternal Gods!

Them.
This poison,
[takes it from his bosom.
Companion ever in my mournful exile,
Mix'd with the draught yon sacred cup contains,
Shall make the work complete.
[pours the poison into the cup.
—And every God,
That reads my heart, be present at the offering
A willing victim makes; a victim here
To loyal truth, to gratitude and honour.

Asp.
I feel my senses fail.

Xer.
I'm struck with wonder.

Them.
Lysimachus, my friend, do thou assure
My country of my love, and plead at least
Indulgence for my ashes.—I forgive
The worst of fortune if I find a tomb
Where first I found a cradle.—Mighty king!
Repent not of thy benefits conferr'd,
The admiring world shall be their recompense.
All I can now repay thee (cruel Fate!)
Is to profess my gratitude and die.
Ye gracious Powers! if e'er the dying vows
Of those who know not guile ascend to Heaven,
Protect your Athens! To your care receive
This king and kingdom: in the heart of Xerxes
Inspire the wish to war with Greece no more:
Yes, Xerxes, with my life conclude thy hatred.
Friend! children! king and people, all farewell!

[takes the cup.
Xer.
Ah! hold—what dost thou? Touch not with thy lip
The deadly cup.

Them.
And wherefore?

Xer.
Never, never
Shall Xerxes thus permit—

Them.
And why, my king?

Xer.
Too many causes rush upon my mind
To speak them now.

[takes the cup from him.
Them.
Thou canst not, Xerxes, take
From me the means of death: this power alone
Is not allow'd to kings.

Xer.
Ah! live, the hero,
[throws away the cup.
The glory of our age! Still love thy country,
To this I now consent; she's worthy of thee.
Even Xerxes' self almost begins to love her:
And who could ever hate the happy soil,
The glorious mother of a son like thee?

Them.
Ye Gods! can this be true? So far beyond
My best of hopes!

Xer.
Hear then the great effects
Of virtuous emulation—On this altar,
For you prepar'd to swear eternal hatred,
I vow eternal amity with Greece.
Now let her rest, and owe, illustrious exile,
To such a citizen her wish'd repose.

Them.
O! generous king! what art hast thou attain'd
To triumph o'er Themistocles? Such virtue
Exceeds a mortal's aim.—O Greece! O Athens!
O! happy, happy exile!

Asp.
Rapturous moment!

Neoc.
O! prosperous day!

Lys.
Permit me, noble friends,
To sail for Greece, and there to all proclaim
Your generous strife of honour; well I know
Alike for both her gratitude will warm;
For him, who thus asserts his country's cause,
And him, whose godlike gift ensures her peace.

SCENE LAST.

Enter Sebastes.
Seb.
For all my crimes, my sovereign lord, I here
Entreat the punishment: I hate a life
That thus to you—

[kneels.
Xer.
Sebastes, rise: this day
Shall only know content: I pardon thee.
I render back Aspasia's promise given,
And leave her heart her own: my royal faith
I plight to recompense Roxana's love.

Asp.
My dear Lysimachus!

Rox.
Ah! generous Xerxes!

Them.
O! grant, ye Gods! Themistocles may prove
Still grateful to his king.

Xer.
Implore the Gods
To guard thy life, and I shall find thee grateful;
And if my virtue kindle from th' example
Thy virtue gives, thou render'st back to Xerxes
Far more than Xerxes ever gave to thee.

Chorus.
From emulation virtue grows
With added splendor bright:
So torch to torch united glows,
And yields redoubled light.