University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

An apartment adorned with statues representing the labours of Hercules.
Ulysses, Arcas.
Arc.
All, all, as you have will'd, is now prepar'd.
The gifts are ready to present the king:
With these I've plac'd a coat of shining mail,
And military weapons. To your followers
'Tis given in charge to feign a sudden tumult,
With warlike clangors. Tell me now what mean
These mysteries unexplain'd? Or what can these
Avail our great design?

Ulys.
To find Achilles
Amidst a thousand virgins.

Arc.
How distinguish
The youth disguis'd in vestments of the fair?

Ulys.
Mark well and thou shalt soon behold him, Arcas,
With eager eyes devour the dazzling helm
And corselet's plates: but when he hears the din
Of clashing arms, and trumpets' brazen sounds,
That rouze, with generous notes, the warrior's soul,
Then, Arcas, shalt thou see the smother'd flame
Burst forth resistless and proclaim Achilles.

Arc.
Too flattering are your hopes.

Ulys.
I know Achilles,
His warlike genius; from his infant years
Arms were his sole delight; and well I know
'Tis vain to oppose the powerful bent of nature,
Confirm'd by early habit. Midst the enjoyments
Of downy rest, scarce sav'd from stormy seas,
The pilot vows to quit the land no more;
But when the storm is hush'd he leaves again
His downy rest, and ploughs secure the waves.

Arc.
You sure have other signs that might direct
Your present search.

Ulys.
All other signs are doubtful,
But these are certainty. Remember, Arcas,
No proof can rank with this, when nature speaks
With impulse undisguis'd.

Arc.
But if Achilles
(As thus you deem) for Deidamia feel
Such strong affection, grant him now discover'd,
What art shall win him from the fair he loves?

Ulys.
With every caution first secure discovery:
Discover'd once, Ulysses undisguis'd
Will prove all means to assail his fiery temper;
Rouze in his breast the latent flame of honour,
And kindle on his cheek the glow of shame.

Arc.
But how to gain the means of converse with him,
Defended thus from all access?

Ulys.
The occasion
May yet be found, and heedful let us watch
The wish'd-for time, which, should we fail to find,
It must be hasten'd—yes, the trial—

Arc.
See
Where Pyrrha comes: now seize the moment—

Ulys.
Peace:
And look she comes alone: myself will seem
Intent on other thoughts: meanwhile do thou
Observe her every gesture.

[they retire behind.

SCENE II.

Enter Achilles.
Ach.
[entering.]
See the chief
Whom Greece has sent—But that my fair forbids it,
How gladly would I join in converse with him.
Yet, sure without offence to Deidamia,
In silence I may here indulge my eyes
To gaze with rapture on his godlike form.

Ulys.
[aside to Arc.]
What now, my Arcas, say?

Arc.
His looks on thee
Are bent with fix'd attention.

Ulys.
[examining the statues.]
In this palace
All speaks a kingly soul. This sculptur'd marble
Seems warm with life: behold Alcides there
Subdues the hydra: see in every feature
His martial spirit, while the artist's hand
Informs the stone with all a hero's fire.
[to Arcas.]
Mark if he hears.

Arc.
[to Ulys.]
He dwells upon your words.

Ulys.
[turning to the statues.]
Lo! where he lifts Antæus from the ground
To hurl him headlong down: the artist here
Excels himself. O! how the great example
Of godlike virtue, nobly thus express'd,
Should warm the generous breast! O! would to Heaven
That I could boast Alcides' mighty deeds!
Transcendent hero! yes, thy name shall last,
From age to age, to far-succeeding times!

Ach.
O! mighty Gods! what tongue shall thus foretel
Of lost, despis'd Achilles!

Ulys.
[to Arc.]
Arcas, speak:
How seems he now?

Arc.
He communes with himself,
As strongly agitated.

Ulys.
Mark him still.
[turning again to the statues.
What do I see? Behold the same Alcides,
The terror late of Erymanthus' woods,
Disguis'd in female weeds, and plac'd beside
His favourite Iole.—How much he err'd,
(Ill-judging sculptor!) to debase his art
With sad memorials of a hero's fall!
Alcides here, alas! excites our pity,
No more Alcides son of thundering Jove.

Ach.
'Tis true, 'tis true—O! my eternal shame!

Ulys.
[to Arc.]
What think'st thou, Arcas, now?

Arc.
He seems to rave
With conscious feelings.

Ulys.
Let us then accost him.

[advancing to Ach.
Arc.
[to Ulys. aside.]
The king's at hand, take heed, lest aught too soon
Reveal our chief design.

Ulys.
[to Arc.]
O ill-tim'd meeting!
The work was near complete.

SCENE III.

Enter Lycomedes.
Lyc.
[entering.]
I sought you, Pyrrha,
Attend my will. Ulysses, look the sun
Declines already to the western waves;
Vouchsafe, illustrious guest, with Lycomedes
To share the pleasures of the festive board.

Ulys.
Your will, O mighty king, to me is law.

Lyc.
At dawning day, Ulysses, shalt thou see
The ships and arms the Greeks request from Scyros:
Then mark how these exceed thy utmost hopes,
And learn from these how Lycomedes honours
His brave allies, and how esteems in thee
The generous messenger of Greece combin'd.

Ulys.
The soul of Lycomedes, ever great,
Still holds her wonted tenor: yes, from me
The Achaian princes, whose confederate powers
Now threaten faithless Troy, shall learn the friendship
Of royal Lycomedes: generous proofs
I bring; these arms and vessels which your care
Has nobly furnish'd for the common cause.
[aside.]
But deeper aims are mine; a mightier aid
I mean that Greece shall win from Scyros' shore.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

Lycomedes, Achilles.
Lyc.
Would'st thou believe it, Pyrrha? Yes, on thee
Depends the future peace of Lycomedes.

Ach.
What mean these words?

Lyc.
Yes, dearest maid, 'tis thou
Canst make at will a grateful monarch happy.

Ach.
What power is mine?

Lyc.
My daughter Deidamia,
Repugnant to a father's will, rejects
The proffer'd union with the prince of Chalcis.

Ach.
And wherefore this to me?

Lyc.
Thou rul'st at pleasure
Her every thought, and all her heart is thine.

Ach.
And would you, Lycomedes, ask from me—

Lyc.
Yes, teach her to respect a father's choice;
Teach her the virtues of a noble husband,
And kindle in her breast a flame for him
Who merits all her love: so may she meet
His fond address with equal fair return,
And all a wife's endearments.

Ach.
[aside.]
Yes, to you,
To you, ye weeds of shame, I owe this insult.

Lyc.
What says my Pyrrha?

Ach.
Think'st thou then with me
Such ministry may suit? Ah! Lycomedes,
Thou little know'st me—I? Eternal powers!
Shall I?—O! seek some better advocate
To enforce a father's will.

Lyc.
What fears my Pyrrha?
Perchance she deems Theagenes a lover
That merits not the hand of Deidamia?

Ach.
[aside.]
What shall I say? No longer can I bear
Such cruel sufferings.

Lyc.
Tell me, can my daughter
E'er find a nobler union?

Ach.
[aside.]
'Tis too much.
[to Lyc.]
Hear me, my lord—

SCENE V.

Enter Nearchus.
Near.
[to Lyc.]
The banquet is prepar'd,
And all, O Lycomedes, wait your presence.

Lyc.
Then let us hence. [to Ach.]
Remember thou hast heard
My dearest wish: to thee I trust, my Pyrrha;
Then to thy friendship let me owe my peace.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Achilles, Nearchus.
Ach.
No more, Nearchus, no, I'll hear no more
Of temper or disguise—my soul is fix'd.
No longer hope to abuse my yielding nature:
Let us depart.

Near.
And whither?

Ach.
From these limbs
To strip these woman's weeds—Shall I, Nearchus,
Thus basely pass my life, my prime of years?
And must I bear it tamely, while I see
My threats despis'd; and to complete my shame,
Charged with a haughty lord's imperious mandate?
I see, I see by others' great example
My own reproach; nor will I feel each moment
The conscious blush—

Near.
The conscious blush—

Ach.
Be silent:
I've borne too long thy counsels: different those
The sage Thessalian taught: these feet could then
Outstrip the winds: this arm, in savage wilds,
Would dare the fiercest beast, and stem the tide
Of roaring torrents.—Now—did Chiron now
Behold his pupil in these slothful vestures,
Where should I hide? How answer, when with looks
Of stern reproach he cries: “Where, where, Achilles,
Is now thy sword, with all the warrior's arms?
No mark of Chiron's school, save yonder lyre,
Debas'd from heroes' praise to strains inglorious.”

Near.
Enough, Achilles, I contend no longer,
But yield to reason's force.

Ach.
Think'st thou, Nearchus,
This life is worthy of me?

Near.
No—I own
The generous truth: 'tis time to rouze thy soul
From drowsy sleep; shake off that base attire,
And haste to scenes where honour calls to prove
Thy dauntless heart.—'Tis true, that Deidamia,
Depriv'd of thee, must taste of peace no more;
Nay, grief perchance may waste her gentle frame
Till friendly death—but pause not thou, Achilles,
In glory's course: the triumphs thou shalt gain
May well outweigh the life of Deidamia.

Ach.
The life of Deidamia! think'st thou then
Her constancy will not support our parting?

Near.
Her constancy? Ah! what can that avail
A tender maid who mourns her lover lost,
The sole dear object of her fondest wishes,
Her comfort and her hope?

Ach.
[aside.]
O! Heaven!

Near.
And know'st thou
That if thou steal'st a moment from her sight
A thousand fears distract her? All repose
Is banish'd from her breast: with eager warmth
Of each she meets she seeks her bosom's lord.
How thinks Achilles now she brooks his absence?
She knows no peace, but trembling—

Ach.
Let us seek
The lovely mourner.

Near.
Art thou then prepar'd
To quit the port of Scyros?

Ach.
No, Nearchus,
No, let us now return to Deidamia.

[Exit.

SCENE VII.

Nearchus
alone.
O! miracle of all-commanding love!
Surpassing our belief! When anger fires
His daring soul, Achilles, terrible,
Nor art nor force restrains: his fury then
Would naked rush through circling fires, and meet
Alone a thousand foes: but let him think
On Deidamia once, the fierce Achilles
Forgets his rage and softens to a woman.

[Exit.

SCENE VIII.

A great hall, a table in the middle: above are placed musicians and numerous spectators. Lycomedes, Theagenes, Deidamia and Ulysses seated at the table. Arcas stands by Ulysses, and Achilles by Deidamia. Courtiers, damsels, and pages.
Chorus.

Lyc.
Let every goblet now be circled round
With Cretan wine.

Deid.
[to Ach.]
Thou know'st, my dearest Pyrrha,
Unless thy hand should minister the cup
That heavenly nectar to my lips would prove
A tasteless beverage.

Ach.
I obey. Ah! judge
From that obedience if your Pyrrha's heart
Is true to Deidamia.

Theag.
[observing them.]
Strange effect
Of unexampled passion!

[aside.
Ach.
[aside, going to take the cup.]
Tyrant love!

Lyc.
Say, great Ulysses, when your country's fleet
Will loose their anchors from the Grecian shores.

Ulys.
At my return.

Theag.
Are all the ships assembled?

Ulys.
There only want the friendly aids from Scyros.

Lyc.
O! wretched, feeble state of hoary age,
That keeps me now from such a glorious sight.

Ulys.
[aside.]
This is the time for trial. [to Lyc.]
Mighty king,
The thought is worthy thee. What eyes again
Shall view such arms, such leaders, such a host
Of gallant warriors, countless steeds and vessels,
Spears bristled, banners streaming to the wind;
All Europe there assembled. Woods and cities
Are deserts now: encouraged by their sires,
Their reverend sires, who mourn their useless age,
The impatient youth rush forth and fly to arms.
[to Arc. aside.]
Observe him, Arcas, now.

[during this speech a page brings the cup to Achilles, who, instead of taking it to Deidamia stands listening to Ulysses.
Deid.
Pyrrha!

Ach.
Forgive me:
My mind estrang'd awhile—

[takes the cup, then stops again to listen.
Ulys.
None, none remain
Whose bosoms ever felt the stings of honour,
Or knew a wish for glory: scarcely virgins,
Or tender brides escape the general flame;
And those, whom hard necessity detains,
Rave at their fate and call the Gods unjust.

Deid.
What dost thou, Pyrrha?

Ach.
I attend your will.

[presents her the cup.
Deid.
[aside to Ach. taking the cup.]
Ingrate! are these thy boasted signs of love?

Ach.
[to her.]
Be not displeas'd; forgive me, Deidamia.

Lyc.
Go, place the wonted lyre in Pyrrha's hand.
Now, daughter, urge her with accustom'd skill
To raise her voice and join the sounding chords:
She nothing can deny thee.

Deid.
[to Ach.]
If thou lov'st me
Attend my father's wish.

Ach.
If such your will
I shall obey—O! tyranny of love!

[aside.
[a page gives him the lyre, and a seat is placed for him near the table.
Theag.
[aside.]
I am bewilder'd whilst I see two maids
Thus knit in strange affection.

Ulys.
[aside to Arc.]
Arcas, hear:
Now is the time—thou know'st—

Arc.
I know it well.
[Exit.
[Achilles takes his seat and sings, accompanying his voice with the lyre.
[here the song is interrupted by the followers of Ulysses bringing in the presents for the king.

Lyc.
Say, who are these?

Ulys.
My followers, mighty prince,
Who humbly lay before your royal feet
These slender presents brought from Ithaca.
Forgive the freedom, if in these I offer
The accustom'd thanks of no ungrateful guest.
If I presume too much, my country's usage
Must plead forgiveness for me.

Lyc.
Gifts like these
Speak well the generous donor

Ach.
[approaching observes the armour.]
Heavenly powers!
What do I see!

Lyc.
[looking at the vests.]
Not even in princely Tyre
No purple ever glow'd with brighter hue.

Theag.
[looking at the vases.]
I ne'er till now beheld the sculptur'd vase
So fram'd and fashion'd by a master hand.

Deid.
[looking at the jewels.]
And never sure on India's wealthy shore
Were seen such dazzling gems.

Ach.
[goes nearer.]
What eyes till now
Have e'er beheld such glorious splendid arms?

Deid.
[aside to Ach.]
What would'st thou, Pyrrha? Go, resume the lyre,
And tune again thy song.

Ach.
[returning to his seat.]
O pain to suffer!

Cry within.

To arms! to arms!

[a noise is heard of arms and warlike instruments: all the guests rise with looks of astonishment and fear except Achilles, who remains seated with an intrepid air. Arcas re-enters with seeming terror.
Lyc.
What sudden tumult's this?

Ach.
Ulysses, haste
And curb thy followers' fury.

Ulys.
What has chanc'd?

Arc.
I know not why, but with the royal guards
They mix in cruel fight: expect this moment
To see a thousand threatening falchions drawn.

Deid.
Assist me, Gods! O! whither shall I fly
To save me from their fury?

[runs out.
Theag.
Princess, stay—

[follows her.
Within.

To arms! to arms!

[Lycomedes draws his sword and runs to the tumult. Noise of arms continues. All fly but Ulysses, Arcas and Achilles. Ulysses and Arcas stand apart to observe Achilles, who starts from his seat with great emotion.

SCENE IX.

Achilles, Ulysses and Arcas apart.
Ach.
Almighty powers! where am I?
What did I hear? Methinks I feel my hair
Upstart with frenzy! Ah! what cloud is this
Obscures my sight! What sudden fire now glows
Within my bosom!—I can hold no longer—
To arms! to arms!

[walks to and fro with a furious air, then suddenly stops and observes the lyre still in his hand.
Ulys.
[to Arc.]
Observe him, Arcas, well.

Ach.
And is this lyre a weapon for Achilles?
No, fortune now provides me nobler arms
More worthy of me—Hence! to earth, to earth!
Vile instrument of shame!
[dashes it on the ground, and goes to the table to take the arms from the presents brought by Ulysses.
This hand debas'd
Shall wield the ponderous buckler's honour'd weight,
And this the gleaming sword.
[takes the shield and sword.
Ah! now I feel,
I know myself Achilles—Lead me, Gods!
To meet the glorious labours of the field,
And dare with single force a thousand foes.

Ulys.
If this be not Achilles, tell me, Arcas,
What hero shall we name him?

[coming forward.
Ach.
Heavens! Ulysses!
What would'st thou say?

Ulys.
Exalted youth! Achilles!
Offspring of Gods! at length permit Ulysses
To clasp thee to his breast: 'tis now no time
For vain dissimulation—thou art he,
The hope, the glory of exulting Greece,
And Asia's terror. Wherefore then suppress
The great emotions of thy generous heart?
Are they not worthy of thee? O! indulge,
Indulge them, noble youth—I see, I see
Thou canst no more disguise them—Come, I'll guide thee
To victory and triumph. Greece, in arms,
Awaits but thee, and Asia's hostile sons
Shall tremble at thy single name—away!

Ach.
Then lead me hence; conduct me where thou wilt—
But yet, Ulysses—

Ulys.
Whence this sudden pause?

Ach.
And what of Deidamia?—

Ulys.
Deidamia
Will see thee on some future day return,
With laurels crown'd, more worthy of her love.

Ach.
But whilst, alas!—

Ulys.
Yes, whilst the earth is fill'd
With war's destructive flames, would'st thou, conceal'd
From every eye, here linger out thy life
In vile repose? Remotest times shall tell
How fierce Tydides sapp'd the Dardan walls;
How Hector from Idomeneus obtain'd
His arms and spoils; how Sthenelus and Ajax
Laid Priam's throne in ashes; whilst Achilles,
(What did Achilles?) he, in female garb
Amongst the maids of Scyros dragg'd his days,
Lull'd by the distant sound of valiant deeds.
Forbid it, Gods! O! rouse at length—efface
This blot of honour—O! permit no longer
That any eye should see that vile disguise.
O! could'st thou in thyself behold a prince,
A warrior thus disgrac'd with all the mockery
Of female trappings!—In that shield reflected
Thou may'st contemplate—Know'st thou there Achilles?

[points to the shield.
Ach.
O! treble shame! off! off! ye foul disguises!
Reproach to manhood! [tears his vests.]
How have I endur'd them?
Ulysses, hence to sheath these limbs in arms,
Nor let me longer pine in shameful bonds.

Ulys.
Follow me then— [aside.]
The day at length is ours.

[as they are going on one side Nearchus enters on the other.

SCENE X.

Enter Nearchus.
Near.
Where goest thou, Pyrrha? Pyrrha.

Ach.
[turning.]
O! thou base-one!
Let not that name again escape thy lips,
Nor dare henceforth remind me of my shame.

Near.
Hear me—and wilt thou thus depart? Thy princess—

Ach.
Tell her from me—

Ulys.
Achilles, let us go.

Near.
What can I say from thee to Deidamia?

Ach.

[Exit with Ulysses.

SCENE XI.

Nearchus
alone.
Eternal powers! what sudden storm has wreck'd
My dearest hopes! And should Achilles go
Where shall I fly? Ah! who will save me then
From angry Thetis? After years of care,
Such toils, such watchings, every art employ'd?
O! Heavens!

SCENE XII.

Enter Deidamia.
Deid.
[entering.]
Where is he? Lead me, lead me to him—
Where is my life, my love?

Near.
Ah! Deidamia,
Achilles is no longer yours.

Deid.
Nearchus,
What mean thy fatal words?

Near.
Alas! my princess,
He leaves you, he forsakes you.

Deid.
Oft before
Thy vain suspicions have alarm'd my fears.

Near.
Would I were still deceiv'd!—Alas! Ulysses
Has now discover'd all; has found Achilles,
And forc'd him hence.

Deid.
And could'st thou thus, Nearchus,
Permit him to depart? O! haste, pursue him—
Ah! wretched Deidamia!—hear me yet—
This stroke indeed was death!—why dost thou tarry?—
Did I not send thee hence?

Near.
I go, my princess,
But all I fear in vain.

[Exit.

SCENE XIII.

Deidamia
alone.
Achilles leaves me!
Achilles then forsakes me!—Ah! ingrate!
And could he harbour such a thought and live?
Is this his promis'd faith? Are these the fruits
Of long protesting love?—But while I rave
In fond complaints, the traitor spreads his sails—
O! let us haste to stop his treacherous flight.
My sorrow knows no bounds—away—should all
Avail me nothing, let the perjur'd man
See Deidamia on the shore expire,
Then sail in triumph from the port of Scyros.

SCENE XIV.

Enter Theagenes.
Theag.
O! princess most belov'd—

Deid.
[aside.]
Ill-tim'd intrusion,
To break on my distraction!

Theag.
Ah! permit me
To learn the soft emotions of your heart,
If yet your love—

Deid.
It is not now a time
To talk of love.

Theag.
Yet hear me.

Deid.
O! forbear—

Theag.
But for a moment.

Deid.
[impatiently.]
O! Immortal powers!

Theag.
At length, my plighted bride, at early day—

Deid.
For pity's sake distract me now no more—

[Exit.

SCENE XV.

Theagenes
alone.
Mysterious all! what wisdom can explain
The wonders of this day? What means the princess?
What can her words import? She surely raves,
Or seeks to shake my reason. Do I dream?
Wake, wake, Theagenes—How art thou lost,
Without a clue to tread this various maze!