 | Philip |  |
Scene III.
—Another room in Philip's Palace.(Enter Perseus and a Servant.)
Perseus.
Ere Dymas leave the palace, bring him here,
Haste, or you'll miss him.
[Exit Servant.
Let the fool be his!—
I quarrel not with that. The crown's my bride;
149
(Enter Dymas.)
Good-morrow, Dymas.
Dymas.
'Tis to thee good-morrow,
More than to me: yet may to both be good,
So made good use of.
Perseus.
Answer me at once,
What sudden journey's this, where I must go,
Dangling among the train of the old king,
Like some smart gewgaw?—And what conference
Held he with you even now?
Dymas.
That journey's end
May lead you to the throne. That conference
Hath told me so; and pointed out the way.
Perseus.
Then let us spur upon it. Speak at once.
Dymas.
But,—Perseus on the throne,—will he forget
The hand that helped him there?
Perseus.
That hand shall be
Feared as my own. What politic soul is thine
That still distrusts what I a thousand times
Have sworn unto thee!—If, thro' aid of thine,
I climb that eminence where I, by right,
Should sit,—and not thro' favour or intrigue,
I'll hold thee yet as giver of that throne;
And thou shalt use the sceptre when thou wilt,
As 'twere thine own.—By heaven, and by deep hell!
I swear it to thee!
Dymas.
Philip looks towards Rome.
This new alliance hath blown up the flame
That seemed burnt out. Yet he saith nothing on't.
Lycius, with secret orders, is gone home.
And Philip, on the morrow, will set forth
To look from Hæmus, on th' Italian plains.
And thither must you also.
Perseus.
Ha! for what?
150
Into the empty throne?—Goes he not too?
Dymas.
No—no—he stays behind to lose the throne.
To my especial charge the king hath left him;
To watch him,—read his purposes,—his thoughts.—
So far is your work, prince; the rest is mine.
You've wrought suspicion;—I must forge the proof:
And I will do't—aye! and such blazing proof,
That Philip, looking on it, shall be blind
To all but vengeance.
Perseus.
Thou'rt the best of friends!—
Dymas.
Let this suffice thee now. It were not well
That we were seen together;—and sharp eyes
Are in the palace. Come to me at night,
And we'll speak farther.
Perseus.
Urge him to the death!—
Remember that. I have no hope to live,
And reign, Demetrius living. He's a drug
That every day I am compelled to drink.
The phial must be broken,—cast away,—
Ere I can breathe in health.
Dymas.
If that weak clay
That's called Demetrius be not iron proof,
He shall be broken,—and his poison spilt.
So up to Hæmus, prince, and draw free breath;
For Macedon is thine.
Perseus.
And Perseus thine,
To use in what thou wilt.—The idiot's caught
With this new toy,—this princess.
Dymas.
Heed her not.
Perseus.
Oh no! The pretty butterfly may light
On that flower suits her best. She is no bee
To know where lies the honey. Let her go.
An hour past sunset we shall meet again;—
Till then adieu.
Dymas.
Adieu. I'll to my charge.
[Exeunt.
| Philip | |