University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE THIRD.

Timophanes, Demariste, Timoleon, Echilus.
Tim.
Perhaps I.—
That force, which brother may with brother use,
I now exert towards thee. Let me embrace thee;
And let me render thanks for thy deliverance
To fate, to heaven, Echilus, and my mother.

Timol.
Thou of fresh massacres hast then been guilty? ...
Ah yes! I see in thy unquiet looks
Recent destruction. Cruel that thou art! ...
—Ill hast thou done to save me.

Tim.
We are all
Now in a place of safety; where no one
Can injure you, nor you can injure me.

Timol.
Reflect, reflect, cannot we yet to thee
Be ministers of good?

Tim.
Yes; by a quick,
And unreserved submission to my power;
Yes; by yourselves being the first to give
Others the example of obeying me.

Ech.
Obeying thee? ...

Timol.
We first? ...

Tim.
Yes: since thou art
Unwilling to divide with me my power.
Perchance if ye had been avowed opponents,
To you I might have yielded. Openly
I dealth with you; this my sincerity
Should have made you sincere ...

Timol.
Thou didst at first
Usurp authority by fraud: this done,
'Twas easy afterwards for thee to be
Audacious in thy insults. Force, with thee
I should at first have used, and never art,
To reconvert thee to a citizen.

Ech.
And did not I with a loud voice of sorrow
Proclaim myself to thee an enemy?
And that, although not girt by satellites,
Although alone, and destitute of power,
We should be fatal to thy usurpation?
And that thou oughtest evermore to guard
Against ourselves? Were we, or are we now,
Less generous than thou?

Tim.
Thou saidedst it;
And now an ample recompense to you
From hence results. From this last massacre
I would exempt you only, and ye are so.
Thus your ingratitude more signally
It pleased me to confound, and not disturb
The joy of my new government.—Feed not
Your flattered spirits with fallacious hopes.
The gloomy shades of night which hitherto
Were wont to veil your criminal assemblies,
Yes, of those shades, these now have been the last
To your insidious friends. In vain to them
Your warning was dispatched; it never reached them;
That very place sacred to traitrous deeds,
Where they clandestinely assembled, is,
To all of them at once, become a tomb.

Timol.
What do I hear?

Ech.
Oh heaven! ...

Tim.
And these are they,
Your traitrous letters to Mycenæ sent;
Behold already they return: and he,
To whom they were addressed, is also slain.
Would'st thou have more? those two conspirators
Who, clad in arms, wandered around my threshold,
Timœus and Orthagoras, have found,
Also, a death deserved.—Would'st thou have more,
Survey around thee, and thou wilt behold
Obedience, blood, and terror; nought besides.
Why dost thou longer now delay to yield
Thyself to me? What canst thou do to me,
If thou wilt not yield? I have well convinced you
That ye are now my sole remaining foes;
That I have rendered you to every one,
Not less than to myself, contemptible.

Timol.
Thou never should'st have spared our lives alone.
This I again would thunder in thy ears:
Thou hast done nothing if thou slay'st not us.

Ech.
Hope never to recover us as friends.
Nor flattery, nor time, nor force can do it ...

Timol.
Nor can my mother, as I see her now
Stand silently, and full of pride and shame.

Ech.
Hold us not in contempt. First against me
Let the executioner direct thine axe.
Thou hast not yet drunken of kindred blood:
Taste it; the trial will be grateful to thee:—
Nor any other blood remains, for thee
More indispensable to spill, than mine.

Timol.
Slay me the first of all. In sparing me
Thou dost but offer me an added insult.
Thou hast snatched from me each most sacred thing:
I am, with everlasting infamy,
By thy means laden: why delay? destroy me.

Tim.
No, on your obstinate hearts I will inflict
Severer punishment: upon the throne
Beholding me; and thence obeying me.

Timol.
—Hast thou resolved then not to take our lives?

Tim.
I have resolved to hold you in contempt.

Timol.
Art thou resolved to reign?

Tim.
I reign already.

Timol.
Ah wretched me! ... Such is thy will ... At least
Let me not see it.

Ech.
Die then, tyrant, die.

Dem.
Oh heaven! ah son! ...

Tim.
Ah traitor! ... I ... expire ...

Timol.
Give me that sword: my country now is safe.

Ech.
Ah! for thy country live.

Dem.
Secure him, guards ...
Run ... to the traitor ...

Tim.
Mother, no.

Timol.
Give me
That sword; ... In me ...

Ech.
No, never ...

Tim.
Guards, retire;
'Tis my command: ... Let no more blood be shed.

Dem.
Echilus dies ...

Tim.
Let no one be the victim ...
Expressly I forbid it ... Hence: I will it.

Dem.
And thou; oh cruel, and unnatural brother ...
But thou, oh heaven! thou weepest?

Tim.
I would have
The throne or death: but yet, at the same time,
I wished to save thee, brother ... By thy hand,
Which rescued once my life, I should have died:
Death so inflicted would have been to me
Less painful ...

Ech.
He, not I, was born thy brother:
To him the signal rightfully belonged;
To me belonged the blow.

Dem.
Oh parricides! ...
Ye; that he would not slay ...

Tim.
Do not, oh mother,
Longer upbraid him thus. In him already
Affliction is excessive; from his eyes
The tears, in torrents, gush.—I pardon thee,
Oh brother; do thou pardon me. I die
The admirer of thy excellence ... If I
Had not attempted ... to enslave ... my country; ...
I had attempted to deliver her:
'Tis the most glorious ... of glorious deeds ...
Yet I see clearly that a frantic love
Of glory did not prompt thee to this act;
The purest feelings of a citizen
Impelled thee thus to sacrifice thy brother ...
To thy protection I commit my mother ...
And do thou ... mother ... recognize in him
A real son; ... a being ... more than mortal.—

Timol.
He dies! Alas! ... Thou, mother, didst by force
Constrain me to come hither ... Oh, my brother,
Soon will I follow thee.

Ech.
Ah! ...

Dem.
Son! ...

Timol.
For what
Do I now live? For weeping, ... for remorse ...
The avenging furies in my burning breast
I feel already ... I shall never more
Enjoy a peaceful thought ...

Ech.
Listen to me:
Thou should'st not now refuse the first assistance
To thy sick country ...

Timol.
I would hide myself
From every human eye; and shun for ever
The insufferable light of day ... I ought
To die of sorrow, if not by the sword.—

Dem.
Ah wretched me! ... Oh heaven! ... What can I do? ...
One son is gone for ever ... and the other
Scarcely remains to me ...

Timol.
Oh mother! ...

Ech.
Come,
Let us withdraw from this heart-rending sight.—
Timoleon, thou should'st now convince the world,
That thou didst slay the tyrant, not thy brother.