University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

Scene—In the Palace of Crœsus.
Ada, alone.
Ada.
Where art thou, wretched Ada? Whither bends
Thy restless step? thy wand'ring guilty eye,
Eager to see the man thy vengeance dooms?—
Adrastus comes, the insulter of my youth,
Rejector of my love. Already here,
Within the palace walls, and with his friend,
Unconscious, planning schemes of future pleasure.
Atys his friend! my husband—Husband! hah!
What have I done? Profaned thy altar, Hymen;
Mingled with thy fires the fire of vengeance,
Not the flame of Love; binding hands, not hearts;
Espousing Atys to destroy Adrastus,
The surer to transfix his heart, that heart
That could belie a face where sparkled love
With smiles perfidious as the Syren's song.
Away remorse and pity from my breast!
Ye gods! avengers of your slighted powers!
Confirm in me an Amazonian mind!
And ye, fell sisters, dire Eumenides!
Visit my bosom; sweep away all shame,
All weak compunction, and become my guides
In the black purpose of my burning soul,
To wreak a signal vengeance, come what may,
Though Sardis groan, and farthest Lydia wail;
Or e'en this wretched frame in pangs expire.—
For disappointed love, though love return'd,
The dame of Carthage braved the lighted pyre:
A fiercer sting oft darts from love disdain'd,
Nor leaves its hold within a female breast,
Till soothed by Vengeance, or by death destroy'd.
Now, Phrygian! now beware thy loving friend!
For Atys' self shall strike th' avenging blow.

Enter Aspasia.
Ada.
Well! my Aspasia, has thou seen the youth?

Aspasia.
The Princes have embraced, and now
Remain conferring in my Lord's Museum.
I saw them pass, but me they noted not.
Methinks the Prince Adrastus alter'd much:
His wonted smile is gone, his eyes no more
Denote those playful sallies of the mind
Which spread delight throughout your father's palace,
During his sojourn at the Carian court.
His features wear a settled melancholy;
But fine, and noble still, replete with grace.

Ada.
Yes, yes, Aspasia, he could look, and speak,
Delight and win—but never felt, himself;
Save the mixt pleasure of a lively hour:
Though to the eye and ear his mien and voice
Proclaim'd him form'd for tenderness and love.
'Twas semblance all, and art, and conscious pride:
He glow'd to win, and won but to disdain.
Yet was it rumour'd at Halicarnassus,
That, purified by Crœsus, he had learn'd
To love the daughter of his purifier.

Aspasia.
Aryenis?

Ada.
The sister of my husband.
The King and Atys say it is not so:
Yet scruple not to wish it loudly. Well!
Be their wishes gratified! Be her fate
Involved in all the horrors of my own!

Aspasia.
Love unrequited—

Ada.
Sets the brain on fire,
And flames the blood that gushes from a heart,
Where hate contends with love for mastery.

Aspasia.
But Aryenis—

Ada.
Loves Adrastus.

Aspasia.
How is that known, since not reveal'd by her?

Ada.
Love is no flame within the soul confined
And smother'd—All, all betray it—The eye,
The voice, the curling of the silent lip—
Oh! 'tis a fire that mocks concealment's power,
And, shaded, burns with brighter blaze!
Name but Adrastus, and these symptoms all
Reveal the truth, without the aid of words.

Aspasia.
He is not worthy of a heart like thine:
Call forth a noble pride, and scorn the man
Whose tasteless eye on slighter beauty dwells.

Ada.
Pride!—'Tis the sport of Love to humble Pride.
No! deadly Hate alone can cope with Love.
No weaker passion satisfies the breast
O'er which that tyrant god e'er bore control:
Never can Scorn succeed, but Vengeance may.
I've torn th' ungrateful monster from my heart,
And with revenge the void he left is fill'd.

Aspasia.
With feelings such as these, how much, ye gods!
Is poor unhappy Woman to be pitied!

Ada.
Pitied!—It may be. But, Aspasia, know,
Still to be dreaded more. And, if there lurk
Within the breast a spark of slighted love,
'Twill but augment the fiercer fire of hate.—
Oh! what a conflict in my bosom rages!
But hate, ever as pow'rful, now prevails,
As he shall feel. But die he shall not—No!
That were poor, common vengeance—He shall live:
But live with blasted fame, while conscious virtue,
Gnawing at his heart, shall greater pangs inflict
Than Ada's dagger, or than Atys' sword.
My thoughts confused o'er modes of vengeance range:
In death is peace, in blasted life is woe.

Aspasia.
But think, whate'er the Phrygian Prince endure
By Atys and by Crœsus will be felt.

Ada.
Atys and Crœsus both deserve their fate:
Deserve my rage—Of this I well bethought—
Did not their boastings reach my tortured ear,
That Lydia's daughter should his peace restore?
Time might have wrought a change—but in the heart
Once love be fixed, its avenues are closed,
And all attempts to win it are in vain.

Aspasia.
Would thou couldst quell these conflicts of thy soul!
At least, my Princess, let them be conceal'd.—
Some one approaches—Nay, resume thy looks,
Unbend thy brows—It is my lord, Prince Atys.

Enter Atys.
Atys.
Smile, Ada, smile—All nature smiles to-day.
E'en my Adrastus smiled when first we met,
Though Melancholy graced his lip the while.

Ada.
The Phrygian Prince is then arrived?

Atys.
I left him with a friend, preparing both
To follow to the presence of the King,
Whom now I seek to tell of his return.

Ada.
And talk'd he of the chace? And will he join
To put to death this other Calydon?

Atys.
'Twas our prime talk,—Crœsus will be convinced—
But fain Adrastus would the chace avoid.

Ada.
The chace avoid! That's strange, methinks! Perhaps
A nobler quarry in the palace lures.
Did he of your sister speak?

Atys.
Yes, oh yes;
And with an ardour whence a hope would spring,
Had not his breast forsworn the power of love,
That Aryenis might his grief dispel.

Ada.
Love, you imagine, then, may be forsworn?
'Tis idly said; for that despotic deity,
Howe'er at common perjuries he smile,
Brooks not derision of his proper power;
The which nor men nor gods e'er yet forswore.
May not his heart against her charms be guarded
Even by Love itself, by other charms?
Hath he ne'er thrill'd thy ear with Dorian beauty?

Doris was part of Caria. There Halicarnassus was situated, at the top of the Ceramic bay.

Atys.
No—never talk'd he, Ada, save of thine;
And then, methought, reluctantly, nor e'en
To thine would pay the homage fully due.

Ada.
Yet deign'd he, Sir, before his homicide
Much time to loiter at the Carian court.

Doris was part of Caria. There Halicarnassus was situated, at the top of the Ceramic bay.

Atys.
I know it well. Why say it now, my love?
And with such stress upon that loiter'd time?
I must to Crœsus (going, returns.)
Oh! be sure, my Ada,
The sad distemper of Adrastus' heart
Is unremitting, undermining grief,
That mocks all moral aid, all other power;
Yet mingles not amiss with heavenly friendship,
That first of boons the gods on men bestow.

Ada.
The first of boons! And where ranks Love, I pray?

Atys.
Oh! second, Ada. (gaily.)
Sometimes last, I fear—
Sometimes no boon at all.

Ada.
Sometimes—a curse.

Atys.
Nay, clear that beauteous brow. I love thee, Ada—
Excuse the candour of a soldier's speech—
I love thee, Ada, as a soldier loves.

Ada.
Methinks, a soldier, Sir, should love like Mars;
To whom we owe that deity himself.

Atys.
My Ada, so he should—and so he does.
Soldiers are amorous, and few neglect
Their vows at Venus' shrine—Yet friendship sways
The hero's soul with unexampled force.

Ada.
Judge by the Phthyan hero. Ten long years
His injured love suspended Ilion's fate.

Atys.
'Twas rage, not love; 'twas pride, my fair one, pride
So long withheld Achilles from the fray;
Till wounded friendship set his soul on fire,
And in its blaze involved the Dardan towers.
But Love with Friendship never should contend—
Atys is blest in both—his wife and friend.

[Exit.
Ada.
What says Aspasia to this soldier's sense
Of nature ruling in the human breast?

Aspasia.
If from myself a judgment I may form,
I know no love exceeding that for you,
And Friendship, Ada, holds superior sway:
To judge by you, far diff'rent should I deem.
Yet, ah! beware of Passion's dire extreme!
It leads to misery—

Ada.
Passion is zest—
When dull emotions stagnate in the breast,
'Tis living death, not life enjoy'd, Aspasia.

Aspasia.
Is stagnant all, if not in tumult driven?
Recal the day, when, on the Ægean shore,
We watch'd the gliding barks by zephyrs blown:
Swiftly, though gently, each attain'd its goal.
How sweet, and pleasant 'twas to view the scene!
That very eve, within your father's palace,
We gazed again upon our alter'd sea,
Where zephyrs had resign'd their happy sway,
Succeeded by the furious blasts of Auster,
Which, sudden, with tremendous roar, o'ertook
A large and strongly timber'd argosy,
Quick steering for the port, then close before it.
Methinks, I see it now—first, as in sport,
It danced its playful bow to mock the wind,
That, howling, threaded the Ceramic bay.

Doris was part of Caria. There Halicarnassus was situated, at the top of the Ceramic bay.

How proudly swell'd its milk-white sails! But soon
Along the coast 'twas driven on its side,
And dash'd upon the rocks—You heard the screams,
Which, louder than the tempest's roar, assail'd
The affrighted ear, and pierced the tortured soul
With sympathetic terror—All were lost.
So, Ada, act the passions of the breast!
Gentle, they give to life its dearest joys;
But uncontroll'd they goad and overwhelm.
Oh! I beseech you, stop—forego revenge—
The Phrygian Prince, who never knew to love,
Is now absorb'd in grief—Atys is charming.

Ada.
As is the Parian stone: and with a heart
Form'd for thy cold philosophy. The gods,
Whose will the earth, the air, the sea obey,
Have made me what I am—Infatuate wretch!

Aspasia.
But! mould thy soul by reason into peace.

Ada.
Reason is given to aid, not thwart their work:
Away with Reason, then, that rebel grows!
Fate rules Olympus, Fate the gods obey,
And Nature ministers to Fate on earth.
Thee friendship and a gentle mind it wills;
To me a spirit glowing and resolved:
Perhaps too much disclosed to thee, Aspasia!
But well, my gentle friend, I know thou lovest me,
And my swoln heart had burst, had I not pour'd
Its overflowing feelings into thine.

Aspasia.
Ada, they come—Be calm.

Ada.
Again that step
Vibrates melodious discord on my ear:
Again conflicting passions shake my soul.—
I'd see the Prince alone—remove his friend.

Enter Adrastus and Orontes.
Adrastus.
Hah!—'Tis she! (aside.)

Long life and joy attend the bride of Atys!

Ada.
'Twere better wish'd with a less mournful brow—
But, Prince, we'll teach you to dispel the cloud.
Your friend—

Adrastus.
Orontes, Madam, from Celene,
Bearing my father's mandate of return.

Ada.
You're welcome, Sir, to Sardis—But not so
The mandate of the Phrygian King. We'll hope
To send Adrastus home with gayer cheer.

Orontes.
I'm but the bearer, Madam, of the wish
Of aged Gordius to embrace his son;
And of warm congratulations to Crœsus,
His son, and you, fair Princess, on your nuptials.

Ada.
We'll speak our thanks in time for your return.—
Prince Adrastus—

(Here Aspasia speaks in show to Orontes.)
[Exeunt Aspasia and Orontes.
(A pause.)
Ada.
Hath sorrow made thee dumb? Or time erased
From memory thy Carian hours?

Adrastus.
Oh! Princess!
I do beseech thee, bury in oblivion
Those hours, and all, all else that may disturb
Thy peace, or give a pang to Atys' heart;
A heart of bliss so worthy and of love.

Ada.
Dost talk of bliss and love to me? Of peace,
Which thou hast marr'd? Of love, which well thou know'st
Is not at my command? A victim here
At Hymen's shrine paternal power hath bound me:
But what can bind imagination? Who
Direct to petty channels of their own
The mighty torrent of the love-swoln heart?
Adrastus! thou hast dared to sport with mine—
Alas! the time is past when, with fair fame,
Thou might'st redeem thy pledge of winning smiles.
But still 'tis unredeem'd, with me remains,
And wretched Ada cannot throw it back.

Adrastus.
Madam!

Ada.
Madam!—Full of respect, forsooth!
But Ada is my name—I'll have no other—
'Twas “Lovely Ada,” when that pledge was given.

Adrastus.
Reflect, I pray—

Ada.
Reflection is my curse.—
I've done a deed that, as I look upon thee,
Curdles my blood. Hadst thou deserved my love;
Hadst thou not broken from my father's court,
With alter'd visage, and with smiles of scorn,
I ne'er the Lydian overture had favour'd.
And, e'en when urged with all the force of duty,
Or all a parent, all a king might claim,
I ne'er had yielded to become another's:
And sooner had they immolated Ada
At any shrine than that by me insulted;
The god of which a signal vengeance plans.—
Of Love, disdain'd, Revenge usurp'd the place—
No keener curse that passion could suggest,
Than by this marriage, sought of policy,
To make of Atys' wife Adrastus' foe.

Adrastus.
Alas! too well I know the spring—But, oh!
In time bethink thee, ere, the curse fulfill'd,
Involve in endless woe thy dearest friends.
For me, could but my death thy wrath appease,
I'd welcome it, with joy to me unknown—
Give the command, and, Ada, I obey.

Ada.
Speak it again—say Ada once again—
The sound is like enchantment in the air,
And breathes a warmth to melt a harden'd heart.
But no—It cannot—must not—I recal
The wish—'tis Hate, not Love, now sways my breast.

Adrastus.
Oh! let not Hatred hold so dire a sway
Where only Love should reign.—Be—be my friend—
Friend to a wretched man, for mercy suing—
My heart is broke—my fate already told
To wither long, by moral lightning scathed;
And all my years must pass in hopeless gloom.
Some comfort yet this cheerless breast might know,
Could I repair the heedless injury,
Done in those giddy days of playful youth,
When even smiles might be mista'en for love.

Ada.
Mista'en?

Adrastus.
If to admire, indeed, were love,
'Twere no mistake—To look on charms like thine,
And not admire, were as impossible
As gazing at the Sun to scorn his beams:
Dazzled I was, but never spoke of love.

Ada.
Nor ever look'd it?

Adrastus.
That was not a crime.
'Twas homage, Ada, homage from the heart,
Paid not alone by me, but all whose eye,
Prompt to receive the soft impress of beauty,
Convey'd its influence to the wond'ring soul.

Ada.
Such, enchanter! such were the magic sounds
That tuned the voice of Love—thy voice!—Such still
Their sweetness falls upon my ravish'd sense,
Runs thro' my veins, and agitates my heart.
Thou know'st 'twas love, Adrastus—'twas—'twas love.

Adrastus.
Oh! had I felt it then, in those gay hours,
When peace and joy in Beauty's train were found,
This breast had been a fit abode for Love:
Alas! 'tis but a dreary ruin now,
Suited alone to melancholy thoughts.

Ada.
No better antidote to grief than love.

Adrastus.
No antidote can operate 'gainst mine.
Oh! hear me, cruel! Cruel to thyself!
Hear me, nor be ungrateful to the gods!
Welcome the bliss, by thee unsought, they give:
Tho' vengeance urged the deed, let Love prevail!
Never was man more form'd than Crœsus' son—

Ada.
Adrastus! hold—Crœsus expects thee now;
Nor is there time for longer parley here.
Vengeance I meant: but since I've seen thee, heard thee,
This ardent brain, so german to my heart,
Unfolds a milder project. Atys, full
Of to-morrow's pleasure, meets the dawn,
And therefore lodges in the outer court.
I unobserved, when sleep the Palace holds,
For all its ways I've learn'd, will leave my chamber,
And seek thee—

Adrastus.
Princess!—

Ada.
Nay, never start.

Adrastus.
Not for my life—

Ada.
Oh monstrous!
What vile degrading fancy soils thy brain?
Am I awake? Think'st thou I proffer dalliance?
Is 't come to this? Ye gods! is 't come to this?
'Tis shame enough when woman owns her love;
But to be deem'd the wanton of an hour!—
Now could I hate thee—but I've that to say,
Which must be said; and which, when said, to both,
If thou art wise, may bring relief and peace.

Adrastus.
Relief for me there's none. And as for peace,
The quiet of the breast depends on honour.

Ada.
That we'll discuss at night—Expect me then.

Adrastus.
Princess, desist—I will not see you then.

Ada.
Not see me?—Madman! Yet more mad is she
Whose insane visions lead her thus to trifle,
And yield herself to scorn—But, Sir, I know
The barrier to our conference—Know thou!
The flame of vengeance shall that barrier fire.
It is not Atys steels thy heart against me;
But Atys' sister—Oh! thou canst not love!
'Tis grief absorbs Adrastus' soul—Now, mark me!
For vengeance am I here, and vengeance shall be mine.

[Exit.
Adrastus.
Oh! lost Adrastus!—Ho!
Orontes! ho!

[Exit.