 | Adrastus |  |
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ACT I.
Scene—Mount Tmolus, with the River Pactolus issuing from it.The mountain Tmolus, near Sardis, the capital of ancient Lydia, was noted for its salubrity, and the country round it was delightful, as it is to this day. The river Pactolus rises in Tmolus and falls into the Hermus below Sardis, through which it flows. It brought in its descent a quantity of gold-dust. Larcher says, it had ceased to do this in the time of Strabo, that is, in the age of Augustus. According to Pliny it was essential in the cure of various diseases, by bathing.
Enter several Lydian Peasants.
1st Peasant.
Didst mark him, boy?
2d Peasant.
Ay, father: and such a monster never
these eyes beheld before.
1st Peasant.
'Tis a famous beast.
3d Peasant.
'Tis a frightful one. I would he were
destroyed! He hath ravaged far and near. Last
night he visited our pastures.
1st Peasant.
He shall not long annoy us. The
King hath said the word; and when was ever the
word of Crœsus forfeited?
3d Peasant.
Know ye if the Prince will join
the hunt?
1st Peasant.
It hath not reached our ear. There
was much talk of his desire, yesterday, in Sardis;
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makes urgent entreaty for the King's consent.
2d Peasant.
I wonder much he should refuse; and
she's a gallant dame to back his suit.
1st Peasant.
Know you not, boy, 'tis from excessive
love?
2d Peasant.
'Tis strange love to stand between his
son and pleasure! Such pleasure too!—Thou lovest
me, father, yet thou sharest in very thought the
pleasure I shall have in this hunt.
1st Peasant.
In thought, lad! Ay, and shall in act.
But there 's no fear in my mind, seeing thy agility—
Now in the King's mind, they say, there is.
2d Peasant.
Why, father! the Prince is more
agile far than I am—and with what skill and force
he darts a javelin!
1st Peasant.
True, boy! but then the King hath
had a dream.
2d Peasant.
A dream!
1st Peasant.
Ay! a vision in his sleep.—I know
not clearly the matter of it—it imported danger to
the Prince.
2d Peasant.
A dream! a vision! psha! And a
man is to be mewed up in a cage for a dream! I'd
break my mew, that I would, and hunt in the teeth
of a thousand dreams.
1st Peasant.
I like thy boldness, my son—yet the
feelings of a father—they are something for a son
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Atys that he considers them in the King.—Stand
back; here are some of his officers.
Enter Rhodius and Diomed.
Rhodius.
Good morrow, friends!—We seek the
masters of the steeds left this morning in the stable
at the foot of Tmolus—Have ye passed a youth of
princely port in your early ramble?
1st Peasant.
The melancholy stranger who hath
been some time at the court of our King, with
another stranger, whose face is new to us, went
forth on foot this morning, to round the hill and
view the Gygean lake and Alyattes' tomb.
Rhodius.
Spoke ye with them?
2d Peasant.
We did, Sir—And I at first made offer
of my service as guide where the Pactolus might be
crossed; but soon withdrew it as unnecessary, on
remembering the person of the Prince Adrastus.
Rhodius.
Thanks! 'tis he we seek.—Good day!
1st Peasant.
(The Peasants going, stop.)
Sirs!
continues the hunt fixed for to-morrow?
Rhodius.
It does.
2d Peasant.
Go the Princes forth to the hunt?
Rhodius.
Prince Cyno goes. But respecting
his brother, nothing is yet determined. Have ye
seen the creature?
2d Peasant.
Ay, Sir! and traced his haunt. I was
on the farther brow of Tmolus with the dawn, and
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grounds, and making for the wood, eastward of the
mount. I marked the entrance which he took; and
with the first order of the huntsman, the nets, now
ready, shall all be placed in due directions.
Rhodius.
To Sardis, then, where we shall meet
anon.
[Exeunt Peasants.
Diomed.
How bold and ready for the manly sport
Our hardy Lydians show.
Rhodius.
'Tis time indeed
This roving monster should be made to bleed;
Since forest-haunts no longer bound his range,
But issuing nightly to the champaign lands,
He dares attack the cultivator's crops—
He dies to-morrow.
Diomed.
So the order runs:
But may the coming of the Phrygian Prince
Not stay the death? He is not scared by dreams—
Should he enforce the ardour of his friend,
Would Crœsus yield forthwith? He builds a hope,
Or I mistake, upon the mournful cast
Of young Adrastus' mind, for prudence form'd,
And therefore ventures to declare his voice
May sway the issue to the Prince's wish.
But, trust me, Sir, this may is mainly built
Upon that hope.—The melancholy youth
Will counsel Atys to forego the chace.
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You do him wrong. Himself woe-worn, Adrastus
Promptly promotes the joy he cannot share,
And owns a heart too large for self to fill.
Know you the circumstances of his grief?
Diomed.
Precisely, no. When first he came to Sardis
I was at Delphi with the votive treasure.
Ere I return'd, his story lost its newness,
And was but little talk'd of—soon it died
Away. He slew his brother, as I heard,
His elder brother; and 'twas roundly said,
To open for himself a ready way
To Phrygia's lofty throne.
Rhodius.
Believe it not.
His suff'ring ill accords with that report,
The prompt suggestion of malignity.
No, Diomed—the sad and fatal act,
If not sheer chance, was wholly void of will.
Some warmth indeed between the brothers rose—
Yet friends—Nor, since the constellated twins,
Did e'er fraternal love more lovely grow.
It was not passion's sway.—They bred their quails
For sport, as was the fashion of the place,
And train'd them up, with beak, and wing, and spur,
To feather'd war and sportive glory. Now,
Those of Adrastus ever beat his brother's;
And still prevail'd when last they urged the strife.
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When, darting on the victor bird, in haste
He grasp'd his wing, and menaced instant death.
With eager effort to relieve his quail,
Adrastus dash'd his brother to the ground,
From which he never rose; for as he fell,
And sudden was the fall, his neck behind
Was penetrated by an iron pin,
Jutting unheeded on the area's rail.
Diomed.
It open'd still the channel to the throne.
Rhodius.
It did—but to be fill'd with bitter tears
Of the successor to the regal hope,
If hope may mingle sounds with deep despair.
Adrastus fled reluctant—forced to fly
By form and rule—for anxious he to meet
A doom severer than the law inflicts,
Beseeching death for death. By Gordius urged,
His father and his king, he fled, and bent
His steps despondent to the court of Crœsus:
The King received him with a royal heart,
Where all that 's good and great essential blend.
Diomed.
And thence his happiness.
Rhodius.
The lustral water purified the Prince
Un homme absous d'un meurtre involontaire, doit s'absenter pendant une année entière, et ne revenir à Athènes, qu'après avoir donné des satisfactions aux parens du mort; qu'après s' être purifié par des cérémonies saintes. —(Anacharsis, vol. ii. p. 349.)
Lorsque, par l'effet du hazard, d'une haine personelle, ou d'une defense legitime, les heros avoient donné la mort à quelq'un, ils frémissoient du sang qu'ils venoien de faire couler, et quittant leur trone ou leur patrie, ils alloient au loin mendier le secours de l'expiation. (Anacharsis, vol. ii. p. 56.)
By Crœsus' hands. Since which protection, love,
Whate'er the heart can wish, the head devise,
Has been essay'd to chase Adrastus' grief;—
Essay'd in vain. The atoning year is rounded,
And still his heart, his eye, his vesture mourns.
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Methinks his friendship with our Lydian Atys
Might well have press'd upon his lip the smile
Which rises from the heart to share the bliss
Of those we love, the while these nuptials lasted.
Rhodius.
That fruitless effort he at once disclaim'd;
And, that no gloom might lurk about his friend,
Withdrew, with Crœsus' ready granted leave,
From happy Sardis' walls. The nuptial moon
In absence spent, he now returns to court.
Diomed.
And to a painful office—for 'tis clear,
Both sire and son he cannot hope to please.
But see! they wind around the mountain's base,
And close upon us.
Enter Adrastus, Orontes, and Attendants.
Rhodius.
Prince Adrastus, hail!
Welcome again to Lydia's friendly soil.
Adrastus.
Thanks, Rhodius, thanks! and Diomed, I judge.
Diomed.
The same, my lord, who joins in cordial welcome.
Adrastus.
I thank thee, Sir. How fares the King, I pray?
Rhodius.
Well, joyous, happy in himself, in all:
But most impatient to salute Adrastus,
Whom, as appointed, he expects to-day;
And waits his presence to decide a point,
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Adrastus.
Atys? Sir.
Rhodius.
He, with more impatience still,
Charged us to meet your Highness on the way,
With message full of loving eagerness
And vehement entreaty, to alight
West of the palace, and ascend his stair.
Adrastus.
Know you the import of the royal question?
Friendly, no doubt, and readily resolved.
Rhodius.
Oh! full of love, my lord; like all the rest
That rise 'tween Crœsus and the duteous Prince.
Your Highness is aware of Crœsus' dream?
Adrastus.
I am.—But tell it to my friend Orontes,
Who now o'ertook me, as he journey'd hither
From my father's capital.
Rhodius.
Sir, 'tis brief.
Crœsus, surnamed the Happy—justly styled,
Since years roll o'er him with success and joy—
While sleeping on his couch, in vision saw
His son stretch'd on the ground, his side transfix'd
With a deadly spear, writhing in his gore.
The impression left disturb'd the Monarch's mind,
For Atys then a Lydian army led.
A summons straight he sends, the Prince recals,
And by a marriage fixes him at court:
The nuptial festivals are scarcely over.
Adrastus.
How wears the bride her Lydian glories?
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Well:
But rapt at times, as 'twere, to other scenes.
I've known the King recal her wand'ring mind.
Adrastus.
'Tis as I fear'd— (aside)
—That, Sir, will mend with time.
Proceed, good Rhodius.
Orontes.
Came he freely home?
Report adorns his name with martial ardour.
Rhodius.
And justly, Sir—Yet freely he return'd.
Valiant and gifted, and in arms accomplish'd,
To glory he aspires: but selfih views
Fade in the brightness of his filial glow:
He lives in cherishing his father's smiles.
Adrastus.
How just!—But to the point to me referr'd.
Rhodius.
Scarce second to the celebrated monster
Of Calydon, a huge, insatiate boar
Roams through the land, a thing unknown before,
Making waste nightly to our very gates.
Adrastus.
The rumour reach'd me e'en at Ephesus.
Rhodius.
The King, entreated by the husbandmen,
To quell the savage in his wild career
Grants them his Indian pack.
Adrastus.
The tiger dogs?
Diomed.
You know them well, my lord—and these to press
Upon to morrow's noble quarry fires
The imagination and the blood of Atys.
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Most likely 'twould—The sequel I perceive—
Crœsus, alarm'd, withholds consent, the while
Prince Atys warmly pleads—Is it not so?
Rhodius.
Not with more warmth than doth his bride, fair Ada,
To whom the wary King, in fondness, yields
To be decided by Adrastus' voice.
Adrastus.
I trust he'll yield without the reference.
(To an Attendant.)
See to our steeds, and hold them ready, Sir.
(To Rhodius and Diomed.)
Now hie ye on to Sardis—Good day! Sirs—
Say to the Prince we follow close your steps.
Rhodius.
My lord, good day!
Diomed.
Your Highness' slave!
Adrastus.
Adieu!
[Exeunt Rhodius and Diomed.
(To the remaining Attendant.)
Follow thy comrade, and abide our coming.
[Exit Attendant.
Adrastus.
Orontes! (leans on him.)
Orontes.
Rouse thee, Adrastus! Rouse from useless sorrow,
And give thy noble mind to other transports.
Adrastus.
Is it, Orontes, in the power of man
To move at will the springs of grief and joy?
Could we but rule those springs, we should be gods.
Orontes.
Howe'er dependent on external causes,
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Untrue to nature, if, when motives weigh
More in the cheerful scale than in the sad,
We suffer not the balance to decide.
Time hath wrought happy changes. Now, no more
Is Phrygia shut: the people love their Prince,
And loudly call for his return:
Gordius, the venerable Gordius too,
Enough hath mourn'd a son the gods have ta'en,
And wants but thee to kindle joys anew—
These of themselves are springs of bliss, my lord.
And then, your natal town, Celene fair!
And your Meander, lovely, wandering stream:
Shall they not cope with images of woe?
Adrastus.
'Tis true, my friend, the sun hath made his round,
And smiles benign on Phrygia's fertile plains;
O'er my devoted head his annual course
Hath brought him to the period of the law
That terminates a forceful exile,
And leaves Celene open to my steps—
But oh! how stain'd!—how stain'd with precious blood!
Celene! blest Celene, till this arm,
This fatal arm, involved thy walls in woe!
Mine was a smiling infancy, Orontes,
And followed by a youth of joy and glory,
Till that black day—What daggers fill the thought!
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Oh, my brother! Would I had died for thee!
Would I had died for thee, my Agathon!
(Much agitated.)
Orontes.
Forbear this grief.
Adrastus.
Thou know'st with what a love
Our hearts thro' life were to each other bound:
In peace or war inseparable found!
The jocund paths of youth we trod together,
Enlarging social pleasure: or, for glory,
In battle urging, side by side, the foe—
He was my father's joy!
(Weeps.)
Orontes.
My lord! my lord!
Adrastus.
I slew them both!
(Greatly agitated.)
Orontes.
Not yet, my dearest lord!
I pray bethink thee, ere your words prove true:
Gordius still lives—
Adrastus.
As I do—no more. Live!
Call you it life to creep upon the earth,
To breathe; the produce of the soil consume,
And sink into a vivid sleep of horror?
Orontes.
Add friendship, Sir, the keen pursuit of knowledge,
Taste that creates Elysium in the mind,
The voice of Fame, the popular regard,
The power of beneficence, and the sway
A prince's virtues hold o'er ev'ry heart.
Adrastus.
They want their necessary relish, Peace:
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Yet am I not insensible, Orontes,
To friendship's all-pervading influence:
To thine, to that of Crœsus and his son.
It does revive me, comfort me, my friend:
And not unfrequently exalts my spirits.
But, like those anodynes and pungent aids,
Which learned leeches use to soothe the nerves,
Its influence o'er,—and, oh! 'tis o'er too soon—
The malady returns with double force;
Black images the clouded brain infest,
Disturb the sanguine current in the veins,
Clog as they flow, and overwhelm the breast.
Orontes.
Deem not I vainly hope, or lightly speak,
When I advise another medicine,
More potent still than friendship—think of love.
Adrastus.
(Gently starting.)
Love!
Orontes.
Believe me, 'tis a sovereign charm, Adrastus;
And Lydia's Monarch boasts a lovely daughter.
Adrastus.
Love! Aryenis!—No, Orontes, no!
Once through my brain the ardent image sped,
And only once—it never reach'd my heart;—
Or if it did, 'twas but to show the wrong
I would not do to so much loveliness.
Mine is no breast to pillow such a cheek,
Which smiles should animate, not tears bedew.
Besides, Orontes, I have warn'd the maid
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With Wisdom's rein, emotions that would rule
Despotic, if not early train'd to obey.
Orontes.
Well flows instruction from such youthful lips!
Oh! learn from her's to curb thy passion's sway;
Become her scholar, and forego thy grief.
If taught by thee no other loves to seek,
Be sure, Adrastus, that she loves already.
Adrastus.
Misconstrue not the maiden's mild regard:
So loves she Atys and young Cyno too;
Her brothers, Crœsus' sons. For me, perhaps
Something of gratitude may intermingle,
For that I won her thoughts to lofty themes,
And open'd Grecian treasures to her ken.
Orontes.
The meeter she to grace a lofty throne,
And bless Celene with a race of kings.
Adrastus.
Her virtues and her matchless grace combine
To win the soul, and seem almost divine.
Such beauty and such worth would lustre shed
O'er worlds, Orontes.—Oh! had Agathon—
Accursed arm! See, see! 'tis stain'd with blood!
Orontes.
Recal your thoughts—You speak of Aryenis.
Adrastus.
Yes; and of Agathon. Oh! had he lived,
Celene had been blest with such a queen!
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And shall be still.
Adrastus.
Desist, my friend, I pray;
Nor sow in Fancy's warm and fertile soil
Seeds that can blossom but to poison.
Orontes.
Think of young Atys' happy lot.
Adrastus.
Oh!—Thou hast rais'd a hydra to my view.
Think of my Atys!—Tell me how to think,
To speak, to act, to look.—Was 't not enough,
Ye gods! to shed, to see a brother's blood!
Why am I doom'd to live in treachery,
And veil my feelings from the man I love?
If there 's a curse that falls more heavily,
More poignantly than conscious parricide,
'Tis the withholding of the lip from truth,
Equivocating to the ear of friendship,
Wearing a seeming which the heart abhors.
Why, what a mockery is the state of man!
Whose very virtues are at war within,
And in their conflicts bear each other down!
We must away.
Orontes.
What shakes thee thus, my lord?
Adrastus.
We must away from Crœsus' court, Orontes.
For 'tis infested by a fiend more fell
Than the enchantress of the Euxine shore—
Ada—
Orontes.
I fear the sequel of your tale.
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The bride of Atys is my deadly foe.
Orontes.
While on your Dorian visit did you chance
To slight her charms, or feign yourself enamour'd?
Adrastus.
Enamour'd? well express'd!—the very word
Which best expounds the feelings of the moment.
I was enamour'd—ay, enamour'd, Sir,
Like many more—for few the flame escap'd,
Her beaming graces kindled all around.
As if she singled me from out the crowd,
She darted from her eye the love she sought:
Mine drank of beauty to intoxication,
And I grew giddy with her sparkling wit.
But wit and beauty captivate, not bind:
The heart requires a stronger chain than either,
Which sense and virtue must conspire to weave.
I did not feign—but neither did I say
How much I was enamour'd: yet, awhile
Warm'd with the charm of novel ecstasies,
I almost thought it was the charm of love.
Orontes.
In truth 'twas like—and if you almost
No wonder she should wholly judge it love.
What sudden gust could chill your amorous fancy?
Adrastus.
Passion.—I shudder at the thought, Orontes.—
Gusts of ungovern'd rage, at first conceal'd,
Broke their restraint, and gave her to my view
A very fury, whose distorted eye
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She first dismay'd me by a sudden scowl,
Which her bent brow dared aim against her father.
Transient was that, and quickly clear'd by smiles,
Those needful guards of beauty and of love.
Orontes.
That shews at least that some command she held.
Adrastus.
Nature, howe'er expell'd, resumes her sway.
One morn, with idle steps, I gaily roved
Within the precincts of the royal grounds,
And, unobserved, approach'd a portico,
Which Ada paced with agitated gait.
In sportive humour, meaning to surprise,
I lurk'd beside a column's base —But soon
A female slave, with hurried steps, advanced,
Eager to repair some slight mistake,
The petty causer of a furious storm,
That raged within her lady's lab'ring breast.
Oh! what a change was there! what alter'd mien!
Those lovely features hideous grew and wild.
A crimson'd cheek, a glaring eye, bent brows,
Distorted lips, and bristling hair ensued,
And gave to life Medusa's frightful head:
She waved it high, and all her frame deform'd,
Raised her clench'd hand, and struck the maiden's face.
With pain, and shame, “Oh Mistress!” cried the slave.
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Her ministry she anxiously pursued.
Had Hercules's arm assail'd my breast,
The blow had shook me less than that which came,
Reverberated from her humble cheek,
In echo to the little slender hand
That struck it. And oh! my Orontes! mark
How beauty is with moral sense entwined!
For what the Princess lost the slave acquired.
Orontes.
What followed?
Adrastus.
I, undetected, from the scene withdrew,
And, saved from Love, resolved to leave the court.
She saw the change, and swore to be revenged.
Something of this I hinted once to Atys:
But he, by filial love supremely moved,
Nobly intent to gratify his parent,
Refused his ear, and she became his bride—
Sweet word of love!—but big with horrors here—
From Sardis must I fly—but whither fly?
Orontes.
To Gordius' arms—the sire expects his son;
Wide stand Celene's portals for her Prince;
Once nestled there, thy grief shall wear away:
We will not leave thee leisure thus to pine.
Adrastus.
Alas! I must not, cannot see my father:
No, spare me that, my friend—'twere death to both.
I'll back to Ephesus: thence o'er th' Ægean
Take ship for Attica. Solon, they say,
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The arduous knowledge that empowers to reign.
If aught this bleeding heart may heal, 'twill be
The making Phrygia happy, great, and free.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
| Adrastus | |