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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE 
 
 ATHENIAN CAPTIVE
 
 THE 
 
 ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 
 
 A TRAGEDY 
 
 IN FIVE ACTS. 
 
 BV 
 
 THOMAS NOON TALFOURl). 
 
 AUTHOR OK " ION,'' &C. 
 
 KlllST ACTF.IJ AT COVENT GARDEN THEATRK, APRIL "iP., 1 I'i.U;. 
 
 LONDON : 
 EDWARD MOXON, DOVER STREET. 
 
 MDCCCXXXVin.
 
 BRADBURY AND EVANS. 
 PRINTERS-EXTRAORDINARY TO THE QUKEN, 
 
 WHITKFRIARS.
 
 
 TO 
 
 THE RIGHT HON. THOMAS LORD DENMAN, 
 
 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE OF HER MAJE£T\-'s COURT OF QUEEN'S BENCH, 
 IN TESTIliCNV CF DEE? ADMIRATION 
 
 OF THOSE QUALITIES WHICH WERE THE GRACE AND DELIGHT 
 
 OF THE BAR, 
 
 AND WHICH HAPPILY ADORN THE BENCH ; 
 AND IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE OF MANY CHEERING KINDNESSES' 
 
 Ci)i5 CragctJy 
 
 IS, WITH HIS PERMISSION, 
 RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 
 
 •t^-K 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 70i)G2:i
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The existence of the following- scenes is entirely to be 
 attributed to the earnest desire which I felt, to assist, even 
 in the slightest degree, the endeavour which Mr. Macready 
 has made this season in the cause of the acted Drama. 
 More than contented with the unhoped for association I had 
 obtained with the living influences of scenic representation, 
 in the indulgence accorded to " Ion," I should have post- 
 poned' all thought of again venturing before the public, 
 until years had brought leisure, which might enable me to 
 supply, by labour and by care, what 1 knew to be wanting 
 in the higher requisites of tragic style. But I could not 
 perceive a gentleman, whose friendship 1 had long enjoyed, 
 forsaking the certain rewards of his art, and the tranquil 
 pleasures of domestic life, to engage in the chivalrous
 
 viii PREFACE. 
 
 endeavour to support a cause, which I believe to be that of 
 humanity and of goodness, and which seemed almost des- 
 perate, without a feverish anxiety to render him assistance, 
 and perhaps a tendency to mistake the will for the power. 
 The position of the two great theatres — witli a legal 
 monopoly, which has been frittered away piecemeal without 
 recompense, until nothing remains but the debts which 
 were contracted on the faith of its continuance, and the odium 
 of its name ; — opposed to a competition with numerous 
 establishments, dividing the dramatic talent and dissipating 
 the dramatic interest of the town, — rendered the determi- 
 nation of Mr. Macready to risk his property, his time, and 
 his energies in the management of one of them, a subject 
 of an interest almost painful. Impressed with this senti- 
 ment, at a time when it was unforeseen that one of the most 
 distinguished of our authors would lend his aid — when no 
 tragic creation of Knowles " cast its shadow before," with 
 its assurance of power and of beauty, — when the noble 
 revivals of Lear and of Coriolanus were only to be guessed 
 at from those of Hamlet and Macbeth, — I determined to 
 make an attempt, marked, I fear, with more zeal than
 
 PREFACE. ix 
 
 wisdom. Having submitted tlie outline of this Drama to 
 the friend and artist most interested in the result, and havin-j- 
 received his encouragement to proceed, I devoted my little 
 vacation of Christmas to its composition ;— and, with the 
 exception of some alterations (for the suggestion of the 
 principal of which I am indebted to him,) succeeded so far 
 as to finish it before the renewal of other (1 can hardly say) 
 severer labours. Whether I may succeed in doing- more 
 than thus gratifying my own feelings, and testifying their 
 strength by the effort, is, at this time, doubtful ; — but, in 
 no event, shall I regret having made it. 
 
 At this period I can only, of course, imperfectly estimate 
 the extent of the obligation I shall owe to the performers ; 
 but, as no other opportunity may occur, I cannot refrain 
 from thanking them for the zeal and cordiality with which 
 , they have thus far supported me. Among them I am 
 happy to find my old and constant friend, Mr. Serle, — who 
 .should rather be engaged in embodying his own con- 
 ceptions than in lending strength to mine. And I cannot 
 refrain from mentioning the sacrifice made to the common
 
 X PREFACE. 
 
 cause by Miss Helen Faucit, in consenting to perform 
 a character far beneath the sphere in which she is entitled 
 to move; and which, even when elevated and graced by 
 her, will, I fear, be chiefly noted for her good-nature in 
 accepting it. 
 
 The First Scene of the Third Act, and the Second 
 Scene of the Fourth Act, are omitted in the representation ; 
 and some alterations, suggested at rehearsal, have been 
 made in the conduct of the closing Scene. 
 
 T. N. T. 
 
 Russell Square, 2Slh April, 1838.
 
 ^Btrsons of tj^c Brama, 
 
 AS REPRESENTED AT COVENT GARDEN THEATRE. 
 
 Creon . . King of Corinth Mr. Warde. 
 
 Hyllus . Son of Creon Mr. Anderson. 
 
 Iphitus . Priest of the Temple of Jupiter the 1 
 
 . ^ /-, ■ 1 I Mr. Seri.e. 
 Avenger, at Corinth .... J 
 
 Calchas . An Athenian, living at Corinth . . Mr. Waldron. 
 
 Thoas . An Athenian Warrior Mr. Macready. 
 
 Pentheus An Athenian Warrior, his Friend . Mr. Diddear. 
 
 Lycus . . Master of the Slaves to the King of ) ,, „ 
 
 ^ . , ^ Mr. Howe. 
 
 Corinth J 
 
 Athenian and Corinthian Soldiers, Sfc. 
 
 Ismene . Queen of Corinth ; second wife of"j 
 
 J Mrs. Warner. 
 
 Creon j 
 
 Creusa . Daughter of Creon ; twin-born of) ,, ^^ t^ 
 
 > Miss Helen Fau 
 his first wife with Hyllus . • J 
 
 CIT. 
 
 Scene — Corinth, and its immediate neighhniirhood. 
 
 Time oi Action — Tiuo days.
 
 THE 
 
 ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 
 
 A TRAGEDY. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 The Acropolis of Corinth. 
 
 Creon reclining on a bench, beneath open columns. — 
 Iphitus a little behind him., in the dress of Augury., 
 watching the flight of birds. The Sea seen far below, 
 in the distance. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Wheel through the ambient air, ye sacred birds, 
 
 In circles still contracting, that aspire 
 
 To share the radiance of yon dazzling beams, 
 
 And 'midst them float from mortal gaze ; yc speak 
 
 In no uncertain language to the sons 
 
 Of Corinth, that the shames they bear from Athens 
 
 Shall speedily be lost in glories won 
 
 B
 
 2 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 
 
 From insolent battalions, that have borne 
 Their triumphs to our gates. Rejoice, my king ! 
 Leave mournful contemplation of the dust. 
 To hail the omen ! 
 
 CREON. 
 
 I am so perplex'd 
 With the faint tracings age's weakness shapes, 
 That I distinguish not the winged forms 
 Thou speakest of, from the mists that flicker quick 
 On eyes which soon must be all dark. To me 
 No omen can be otherwise than sad ! 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Surely, my king — for I will answer thee 
 
 Untrembling, as Jove"'s minister — these signs 
 
 Should make thy heart beat proudly ; hast not felt 
 
 Upon our loftiest eminence, the blight 
 
 Of that dishonour which alone can slay 
 
 The spirit of a people ; — seen our fanes 
 
 Crowded with suppliants from our wasted fields, 
 
 Shrieking for help in vain, and mourn'd the power 
 
 Of Athens to convert our cloudless sky. 
 
 And the bright sea which circles us, to bounds 
 
 Of a great prison ? If thy kingly soul 
 
 Hath shrunk — as well I know it hath — from shame 
 
 Without example in our story, now 
 
 Bid it expand, as our beleaguer'd gates
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 
 
 Shall open wide to let our heroes pass, 
 
 With brows which glisten to receive the laurel 
 
 From their kino's hand. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Perchance to see him die. 
 O, Iphitus ! thy king hath well nigh spent 
 His store of wealth, of glory, and of power, 
 AVhich made him master of the hopes and strengths 
 Of others ! While the haggard Fury waits 
 To cut the knot which binds his thousand threads 
 Of lustrous life, and the sad ghost forsakes 
 The palace of its regal clay, to shrink, 
 Thin as' a beggar's, sceptreless, uncrowned, 
 Unheeded, to the thronged and silent shore 
 Where flattery soothes not, think'st tiiou it can draw 
 A parting comfort from surrounding looks 
 Of lusty youth, prepared, with beaming joy, 
 To hail a young successor ? 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Still thine age 
 Is green and hopeful ; there is nought about thee 
 To speak of mortal sickness, and unnerve 
 A soul that once was noble. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Priest, forbear ! 
 The life that lingers in me is the witness
 
 4 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 
 
 With which I may not palter. I may seem 
 
 To-day to wear the look of yesterda}^, — 
 
 A shrivell'd, doting, peevish, weak old man. 
 
 Who may endure some winters more to strip 
 
 A leaflet daily from him, till he stands 
 
 So bare of happiness, that Death hath scarce 
 
 An art to make him nakeder. My soul 
 
 Begins its solemn whispers of adieu 
 
 To earth's too sweet companionship. Yet, hark ! 
 
 It is Creusa's footstep ; is't not, priest ? 
 
 Is not my child approaching us? 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Afar 
 I see the snowy foldings of a robe 
 Wave through the columnM avenue ; thy sense 
 Is finer than the impatient ear of youth, 
 That it should catch the music of a step 
 So distant and so gentle. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 If thou wert 
 
 A father, thou wouldst know a father's love 
 
 'Mid nature's weakness, for one failing sense 
 
 Still finds another sharpen'd to attend 
 
 Its finest ministries. Unhke the pomps 
 
 That make the dregs of life more bitter, this 
 
 Can sweeten even a king's. 
 
 [Creusa passes across the stage behind Creon, learing 
 
 offer in gs.~\
 
 scENK 1.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 
 
 She passes on ; 
 So ! So ! all leave me. Call her, Iphitus, 
 Though that her duty own no touch of fondness, 
 I will command her. Am I not her king ? 
 AVhy dost not call ? 
 
 Re-enter C RE us a, tcho kneels in front to Creon. 
 
 Ah ! thou art there, my child ; 
 Methinks my waning sight grows clear, to drink 
 The perfect picture of thy beauty in ; 
 And I grow gentle — Ah ! too gentle, girl — 
 Wherefore didst pass me by without regard, 
 Who have scant blessing left save thus to gaze 
 And listen to thee ? 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Pardon me, my father, 
 If, bearing offerings to the shrine of Jove 
 For my sweet brother's safety, anxious thoughts 
 Clove to him in the battle with a force 
 Which made its strangest shapes of horror live 
 As present things ; and, lost in their pursuit, 
 I heeded not my father. 
 
 CREON, 
 
 In the battle ? 
 Is Hyllus in the combat 'mid those ranks 
 Of iron ? He who hath not rounded yet
 
 6 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 
 
 His course of generous exercise ? I'm weak ; 
 Is that the cause ? Is he impatient grown 
 To put the royal armour on, his sire 
 Must never wear again ? Oh, no ! his youth, 
 In its obedient gentleness, hath been 
 An infancy prolong'd ! It is the Power 
 Which strikes me with the portents of the grave. 
 That by the sight of his ensanguined corpse 
 Would hasten their fulfilment ; 'tis well aimM, 
 I shall fall cold before it. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 'Twas a word, 
 Dropp'd by the queen in answer to some speech 
 In which she fancied slight to Athens, rous'd 
 His spirit to an ecstasy ; he spurn'd 
 The light accoutrements of mimic war ; 
 Borrow'd a soldier's sword, and, with the troops 
 Who sallied forth at day-break, sought the field — 
 Where Jupiter protect him ! 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Bid the queen 
 Here answer to us. [Exit Iphitus. 
 
 Rarely will she speak. 
 And calmly, yet her sad and solemn words 
 Have power to thrill and madden. O my girl. 
 Had not my wayward fancy been enthralPd
 
 SCENE I,] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 
 
 By that Athenian loveliness which shone 
 
 From basest vestments, in a form whose grace 
 
 Made the cold beauty of Olympus earth's, 
 
 And drew me to be traitor to the urn 
 
 Which holds thy mother's ashes, I had spent 
 
 My age in sweet renewal of my youth 
 
 AVith thought of her who gladden'd it, nor known 
 
 The vain endeavour to enforce regard 
 
 From one whose heart is dead amidst the living. 
 
 Re-enter Iphitus. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Comes the queen hither ? Does she mock our bidding ? 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 At stern Minerva's inmost shrine she kneels. 
 
 And with an arm as rigid and as pale 
 
 As is the giant statue, clasps the foot 
 
 That seems as it would spurn her, yet were stay'd 
 
 By the firm suppliant's will. She looks attent 
 
 As one who caught some hint of distant sounds, 
 
 Yet none from living intercourse of man 
 
 Can pierce that marble solitude. Her face 
 
 Upraised, is motionless,— yet while I mark'd it — 
 
 As from its fathomless abode a spring 
 
 Breaks on the bosom of a sullen lake 
 
 And in an instant grows as still, — a hue 
 
 Of blackness trembled o'er it ; her large eye
 
 8 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 
 
 Kindled with frightful lustre;— but the shade 
 Pass'd instant thence ; her face resumed its look 
 Of stone, as death-like as the aspect pure 
 Of the great face divine to which it answered. 
 I durst not speak to her. 
 
 CEEON. 
 
 I see it plain ; 
 Her thoughts are with our foes, the blood of Athens 
 Mantles or freezes in her alien veins ; 
 Let her alone. IS houts without. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Hark ! — They would never shout 
 If Hyllus were in peril. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Were he slain 
 In dashing back the dusky wall of shields, 
 Beneath which Athens masks her pride of war. 
 They would exult and mock the slaughtered boy 
 With Paeans. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 So my brother would have chosen ! 
 
 [^Shouts reneiced. 
 
 Enter Corinthian Soldier. 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 Our foes are driven to their tents, the field 
 Is ours —
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 9 
 
 CREON. [Hastily interrupting him. 
 
 What of the prince — my son ? 
 Thou dost avoid his name ; — have ye achievM 
 This noisy triumph with his blood ? 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 A wound, 
 Slight, as we hope, hath grac'd his early valour. 
 And though it draws some colour from his cheek 
 .Leaves the heart fearless. 
 
 f 
 
 CREON. 
 
 I will well avenge"' 
 The faintest breath of sorrow which hath dimm'd 
 The mirror of his youth. Will he not come? 
 Why does he linger, if his wound is slight, 
 From the fond arms of him who will avenge it ? 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 He comes, my lord. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Make way, there ! Let me clasp him ! 
 
 Enter Hyllus, pale, as slightly tcounded. 
 
 Why does he not embrace me ? 
 
 [Creusa runs to Hyllus, and supports him as he moves 
 
 towards Cueon.
 
 ]0 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 He is faint. 
 Exhausted, breathless,— bleeding. Lean on me, 
 
 \_To Hyllus. 
 And let me lead thee to the king, who pants 
 To bid his youngest soldier welcome. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Nay 
 'Tis nothing. Silly trembler ! — See, my limbs 
 Are pliant and my sinews docile still. [Kneels to Ckeon. 
 Kneel with me; pray our father to forgive 
 The disobedience of his truant son, 
 His first — oh, may it prove the last ! 
 
 * [Creusa kneels with Hyllus to Creon. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 My son ! 
 Who fancied I was angry ? 
 
 Enter Ismene. 
 
 {To IsMENE.) Art thou come, 
 
 To gaze upon the perill'd youth who owes 
 His wound to thee? 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 He utter'd shallow scorn 
 Of Athens ;— which he ne'er will speak again.
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 11 
 
 CREON. 
 Wouldst dare to curb his speech ? 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Forbear, my father ; 
 The queen says rightly. In that idle mood, 
 -Which youth's excess of happiness makes wanton, 
 I slighted our illustrious foes, whose arms 
 Have, with this mild correction, taught my tongue 
 An apter phrase of modesty, and shewn 
 What generous courage is, which till this day 
 I dimly guess'd at. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Canst thou tell his name. 
 Who impious drew the blood of him who soon — 
 Too soon, alas ! — shall reign in Corinth ? 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 ' One 
 
 I'm proud to claim my master in great war ; 
 With whom contesting, I have tasted first 
 The joy which animates the glorious game 
 Where fiercest opposition of brave hearts 
 Makes them to feel their kindred ; — one who spar'd me 
 To grace another fight, — the sudden smart 
 His sword inflicted, made me vainly rush 
 To grapple with him ; from his fearful grasp
 
 12 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 
 
 I sank to earth ; as I lay prone in dust, 
 
 The broad steel shivVing in my eyes, that strove 
 
 To keep their steady gaze, I met his glance, 
 
 Where pity triumph'd ; quickly he returnM 
 
 His falchion to its sheath, and with a hand 
 
 Frank and sustaining as a brother's palm, 
 
 Uprais*'d me ; — while he whisperM in mine ear, 
 
 " Thou hast darM well, young soldier," our hot troops 
 
 Environ 'd him, and bore him from the plain 
 
 Our army's noblest captive. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 He shall die ; 
 The gen'rous falsehood of thy speech is vain. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 O no ! my brother's words were never false ; 
 The heroic picture proves his truth ; — they bring 
 A gallant prisoner towards us. Sure, 'tis he. 
 
 Enter Thoas, in armour, guarded hy Corinthian Soldiers, 
 and Lycus, Master of the Slaves. 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 My lord, we bring the captive, whom we found 
 In combat with the prince. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Say rather, found 
 Raising that prince whose rashness he chastis'd, 
 And taught how he should treat a noble foe. 
 
 .^n
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 13 
 
 c REON. [ To the Soldiers. 
 
 Answer to me ! Why have ye brought this man, 
 Whom the just gods have yielded to atone 
 For princely blood he shed, in pride of arms? 
 Remove that hehnet. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 He who stirs to touch 
 My arms, shall feel a dying warrior"'s grasp. 
 I will not doff my helmet till I yield 
 My neck to your slave's butchery ; how soon 
 That stroke may fall, I care not. 
 
 CREUSA. \^To HyLLUS. 
 
 Hyllus, speak ! 
 Why thus transfixed ? Wilt thou not speak for him 
 Who sparM a life, which, light perchance to thee, 
 Is the most precious thing to me on earth ? 
 
 THOAS. \^To C REUS A. 
 
 Ere I descend to that eternal gloom 
 Which opens to enfold me, let me bless 
 The vision that hath cross'd it ! 
 
 HYLLUS. [[ToCrEON. 
 
 If thou slay him, 
 I will implore the mercy of the sword 
 To end me too ; and, that sad grace withheld, 
 Will kneel beside his corpse till nature give 
 Her own dismissal to me.
 
 14 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 
 
 ISMENE. \_Speakinff slowly to Creon. 
 Let him breathe 
 A slave's ignoble life out here ; 'twill prove 
 The sterner fortune. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Hearken to me, prisoner! 
 My boy hath won this choice — immediate death, 
 Or life-long portion with my slaves. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Dost dare 
 Insult a son of Athens by the doubt 
 Thy words imply ? Wert thou in manhood's prime, 
 Amidst thy trembling slaves would I avenge 
 The foul suggestion, with the desperate strength 
 Of fated valour ; but thou art in years, 
 And I should blush to harm thee ; — let me die, 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 O do not fling away thy noble life, 
 
 For it is rich in treasures of its own. 
 
 Which Fortune cannot touch, and vision 'd glories 
 
 Shall stream around its bondage. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I have dreamed 
 Indeed of greatness, lovely one, and felt 
 The very dream worth living for, while hope, 
 To make it real, surviv'd ; and I have lov'd
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 15 
 
 To image thouglit, the mirror of great deeds, 
 Fed by the past to might which should impel 
 And vivify the future ; — blending thus 
 The aims and triumphs of a hero's life. 
 But to cheat hopeless infamy with shows 
 Of nobleness, and filch a feeble joy 
 In the vain spasms of the slavish soul, 
 Were foulest treachery to the god within me. 
 No, lady ; from the fissure of a rock, 
 Scath'd and" alone, my brief existence gush ""d, 
 A passion 'd torrent ; — let it not be lost 
 In miry sands, but having caught one gleam 
 Of loveliness to grace it, dash from earth 
 To darkness and to silence. Lead me forth — 
 {To Creusa.) The Gods requite thee ! 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Hath the captive chosen ? 
 I will not grant another moment; — speak ! 
 Wilt serve or perish ? 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 \_Throwing himself before Thoas. 
 Do not answer yet ! 
 Grant him a few short minutes to decide, 
 And let me spend them with him. 
 
 CREON. \_Iiising. 
 
 Be it so, then ! 
 Kneel, prisoner, to the prince who won thee grace
 
 1(5 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 
 
 No other mortal could have gainM : —remember 
 The master of my slaves attends the word 
 Thou presently shalt utter ; tame thy pride 
 To own his government, or he must bind, 
 And slay thee. Daughter, come ! The queen attends us. 
 
 l^Exeunt Creon and Soldiers. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 [To Hyllus, as she passes him. 
 Thou wilt not leave him till he softens. 
 
 [IsMEi^E folloics ; as she passes T HO as, she speaks in a 
 low and solemn tone. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Live ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Who gave that shameful counsel ? 
 
 ISMENE. [^Passing on. 
 
 One of Athens. \^Exit. 
 
 [Exeunt all hut Lycus, the Master of the Slaves, — 
 Thoas and Hyllus. 
 
 THOAS. [_ Abstractedly/. 
 
 What words are these, which bid my wayward blood, 
 That centred at my heart with icy firmness, 
 Come tinghng back through all my veins ? I seem 
 Once more to drink Athenian ether in, 
 And the fair city's column'd glories flash 
 Upon my soul !
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 17 
 
 LYCUS. 
 My lord, I dare not wait. 
 
 HYLLUs. {Eagerly to Ly'Cus. 
 
 He yields ; — I read it in his softening gaze ; 
 It speaks of life. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Yes ; I will owe life to thee. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Thou hear'st him, Lycus. Let me know the name 
 Of him whom I could deem my friend. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 My name ! 
 I have none worthy of thy ear ; I thought 
 To arm a common sound with deathless power ; 
 ""Tis past ; thou only mark'st me from the crowd 
 Of crawling earth-worms ; — thou may'st call me, Thoas. 
 
 ""^ ' 
 
 LYCUS. [^Coming forward. 
 
 My prince, forgive me; I must take his armour. 
 
 And lead him hence. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Great Jupiter, look down ! 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Thoas, thy faith is pledged. [To Lycus.] Stand back awhile, 
 If thou hast nature. Thoas will to me 
 Resign his arms.
 
 18 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act t. 
 
 THOAS. \_Tajymrj off his hdmct. 
 
 To a most noble hand 
 I yield the glories of existence up, 
 And bid them long adieu ! This plume, which now 
 Hangs motionless, as if it felt the shame 
 Its owner bears, wav'd in my boyish thoughts 
 Ere I was free to wear it, as the sign, 
 The dancing image of my bounding hopes. 
 That imag'd it above a throng of battles, 
 Wavino; where blows were fiercest. Take it hence — 
 Companion of brave fancies, vanished now 
 For ever, follow them ! 
 
 [Hyllus takes the helmet from Tiioas, and passes it to 
 
 Lycus. 
 
 HYLL[IS. 
 
 'Tis nobly done ; 
 No doubt that it again shall clasp thy brow. 
 And the plume wave in victory. Thy sword ? 
 Forgive me ; I must filch it for awhile : 
 Hide it — O deem it so— in idle sport. 
 And keep thy chidings, till I give it back 
 Again to smite and spare. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Too generous youth, 
 Permit my depth of sorrow to be calm, 
 Unruffled by vain hope. [_Takes of his stmrd. 
 
 Farewell, old sword,
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 19 
 
 Thou wert the bright inlieritance which grac'd 
 
 My finish'd years of boyhood — all that time 
 
 And fortune spar'd of those from whom I drew 
 
 The thirst of greatness. In how proud an hour 
 
 Did I first clasp thee with untrembling hand. 
 
 Fit thee, with fond exactness, to my side, 
 
 And in the quaint adornments of thy sheath 
 
 Guess deeds of valour, acted in old time 
 
 By some forgotten chief, whose generous blood 
 
 I felt within my swelling veins ! Farewell ! 
 
 [Thoas fih'fis his .ncord to Hyllus, rrho ddirers it to 
 
 Lycus. 
 
 HYLLUS. \_Diffi.(lently. 
 
 Thy buckler? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 \_Takcs off his buckler eagerly^ and delivers it to Hyllus. 
 I rejoice to part with that ; 
 My bosom needs no bulwark save its own. 
 For I am only man now. If my heart 
 Should in its throbbing burst, 'twill beat against 
 An unapparell'd casing, and be still. [^Going. 
 
 HYLLUS. [_Hesitatingly. 
 
 Hold !— one thing more — thy girdle holds a knife; 
 I grieve that I must ask it. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Bv the sense 
 Which 'mid delights I feci thou hast not lost, 
 
 c 2
 
 20 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act i. 
 
 Of what, in dread extremity, the brave, 
 Stripp'd of all other refuge, would embrace,— 
 I do adjure thee, — rob me not of this ! 
 
 IIYLLUS. 
 
 Conceal it in thy vest. 
 
 [^Thoas hastily places his dagger in his bosom, 
 and takes the hand of Hyllus. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 We understand 
 Each other's spirit ; — thou hast calFd me friend, 
 And though in bonds, I answer to the name. 
 And give it thee again. 
 
 LYCUS (advancitig). 
 
 The time is spent 
 Beyond the king's allowance : I must lead 
 The captive to the court, where he may meet 
 His fellows, find his station, and put on 
 The habit he must wear. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Do 1 hear rightly ? 
 Must an Athenian warrior's free-born limbs 
 Be clad in withering symbols of the power 
 By which man marks his property in flesh. 
 Bones, sinews, feelings, lying Nature framed 
 For human ? They shall rend me piecemeal first !
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 21 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 Thoas— friend— comrade, — recollect thy word, 
 Which now to break were worse disgrace than power 
 Can fix upon thee, bids thee bear awhile 
 This idle shame. I shall be proud to walk 
 A listener at thy side, while generous thoughts 
 And arts of valour, which may make them deeds, 
 Enrich my youth. Soon shall we 'scape the court, 
 Ply the small bark upon the summer sea, 
 Gay careless voyagers, who leave the shore 
 With all its vain distinctions, for a world 
 Of dancing foam and light; till eve invites 
 To some tall cavern, where the sea-nymphs raise 
 Sweet melodies; there shall thou play the prince. 
 And I will put thy slavish vestments on, 
 And yield thee duteous service ; — in our sport 
 Almost as potent as light Fortune is, 
 Who in her wildest freaks but shifts the robe 
 Of circumstance, and leaves the hearts it cloath^'d 
 Unchanged and free as ours. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I cannot speak. 
 Come — or mine eyes will witness me a slave 
 To my own frailty's masterdom. — Come on ! 
 
 [To Lvcus. 
 Thou hast done thy office gently. Lead the way. \_Excunt. 
 
 ENn OF ACT r.
 
 22 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 A Court in the Palace of Creon. 
 
 Enter CliEON and Lycus. 
 CREON. 
 
 How does the proud Athenian bear his part 
 In servile duty ? 
 
 LYCUS. 
 
 I have never seen 
 So brave a patience. The severest toils 
 Look graceful in him, from the facile skill 
 With which his strengrth subdues them. Few his words 
 By question drawn, yet gentle as a child's ; 
 And if, in pauses of his work, his eye 
 Will glisten, and his bosom heave ; anon 
 He starts as from a dream, submissive bows, 
 And plies his work again. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Thou dost espouse 
 His cause. Beware! he hurl'd defiance on me, 
 Disdained my age, as if liis pride of strength 
 Made him in bondage greater than a king 
 Sick and infirm as I am ; he shall feel
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 23 
 
 What yet an old man can inflict. He comes ; 
 Why does he leave his duty ? 
 
 LYCUS. 
 
 'Tis the hour 
 Of rest — of food, if he would take it ; here 
 He's privileged to walk. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Lefs stand aside. 
 [Creon and Lycus retire from sight. 
 
 Enter Thoas, in the dress of a Slave. 
 THOAS. 
 
 Had I been born to greatness, or achieved 
 
 My fame, methinks that I could smile at this ; 
 
 Taste a reraemberM sweetness in the thought 
 
 Of pleasure snatch'd from fate ; or feed my soul 
 
 With the high prospect of serene renown 
 
 Beetling above this transitory shame 
 
 In distant years. But to be withered thus — 
 
 In the first budding of my fortune, doom'd 
 
 To bear the death of hope, and to outlive it ! 
 
 Gods, keep me patient ! I will to my task. \_Goln</. 
 
 Re-enter Creon and Lycus. 
 
 LYCUS. 
 
 Wilt thou not join thy fellows at the feast, 
 And taste a cup of wine the king vouchsafes 
 For merriment to-day ?
 
 21 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 
 
 THOAS. 
 What ! are they merry ? 
 
 LYCUS, 
 
 Dost thou not hear them ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 They are slaves, indeed ! 
 Forgive me, I would rather to the quarry. \_Going. 
 
 Enter Messenger. 
 MESSENGER {addressing Creon). 
 My lord, the games in honour of our triumph 
 Await thee, — first the chariot race, in which 
 Thy son prepares to strive. The wrestlers next — 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Let them begin. \_Exit Messenger. 
 
 Methinks yon captive's strength, 
 No longer rebel, might afford us sport. 
 Thoas ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I wait thy pleasure. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Thou wert train'd 
 Doubtless, at home, to manly exercise, 
 And I would have thee show the youth of Corinth 
 How the Athenians throw the quoit and wrestle. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 My lord, I cannot do it !
 
 scENK I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 25 
 
 CREON. 
 
 One SO strong 
 As thou, had he been native here, would joy 
 In sports like these. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 O, have I not enjoy 'd them ! 
 My lord, I am content to toil and mourn — 
 'Tis the slave's part ; these limbs are thine to use 
 In vilest service till their sinews fail ; 
 But not a nerve shall bend in sports I lov'd 
 When freeman to indulge in, for the gaze 
 Of those who were my foes and are my masters. 
 
 Enter Messenger, in haste. 
 
 MESSENGER. 
 
 My lord — the prince — 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 -.tr. 
 
 Is he in peril ? 
 
 MESSENGER. 
 
 As his chariot, far 
 Before all rivals, glitter'd to the goal, 
 The coursers plung'd as if some fearful thing- 
 Unseen by human eyes had glar'd on theirs ; 
 Then with a speed like lightning flash 'd, along 
 The verge of the dark precipice which girds 
 The rock-supported plain, and round it still
 
 26 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 
 
 In frightful circles whirl the youth ; no power 
 Of man can stay them. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Friend, I come ! I come ! 
 
 LYCUs. [^Attemptlnr/ to stop him. 
 Thou must not go. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Away ! I'm master now. IRus/ws out. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 My son ! my son ! I shall embrace thy corpse, 
 
 And lie beside it. Yet I cannot bear 
 
 This anguish ; dead or living, I will seek thee! {^E.vit. 
 
 LYCUS. [Looking out. 
 
 How the slave spurns the dust; with what a power 
 He cleaves the wondering throng, — they hide him now, — 
 {Speed him, ye gods of Corinth ! 
 
 Enter Creusa. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Whence that cry 
 Of horror mingled with my brother's nanic ? 
 Is he in dano-er? Wherefore do^t thou stand 
 Thus silently, and gaze on empty air ? 
 Speak ! 
 
 Enter Iphitus. [|Creusa addressing him. 
 From thy sacred lips the truth 
 Must flow.
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 27 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 Be calm ; thy brother is preservM ; 
 UrgM by his furious steeds, his chariot hung 
 Scarce pois'd on the rock's margin, where the vale 
 Lies deepest under it; an instant more, 
 And Hyllus, who serenely stood with eyes 
 Fix'd on the heavens, had perish 'd; when a form 
 With god-like swiftness clove the astonish^l crowd ; 
 Appeared before the coursers, scarce upheld 
 By tottering marl ; — strain'd forward o'er the gulf 
 Of vacant ether ; caught the floating reins, 
 And drew them into safety with a touch 
 So fine, that sight scarce witness'd it. The prince 
 Is in his father's arms. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Thou dost not speak 
 The hero's name ; — yet can I guess it well. 
 
 Thoas. — He comes. 
 
 IPHITCJS. 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Let me have leave to thank him. 
 
 l^Exeunt IPHiTus and Lycus. 
 
 Enter Thoas. 
 Hero ! accept a maiden's fervent thanks, 
 All that she has to olfcr, for a life 
 Most precious to her.
 
 28 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 
 
 THOAS. 
 Speak not of it, fair one ! 
 Life, in my estimate, ""s too poor a boon 
 To merit thanks so rich, 
 
 CRt-USA. 
 
 Not such a life 
 As his to me. We both together drew 
 Our earhest breath, and one imconscious crime 
 Shar'd ; for the hour that yielded us to day 
 Snatch'd her who bore us. Thence attached we grew, 
 As if some portion of that mother's love 
 Each for the other cherish'd ; twin-born joys, 
 Hopes, fancies, and affections, eacli hath watch'd 
 In the clear mirror of the other's soul. 
 By that sweet union doubled. Thou hast sav'd 
 Two lives in saving Hyllus. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 'Tis not meet 
 That such a wretch as I, in garb like this, 
 
 \_Looking at his dress, and shudderinr/. 
 Should listen to the speech of one so fair ; 
 It will unfit me for my tasks. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Thy tasks? 
 O hard injustice !
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 29 
 
 , £w^^r Hyllus, Cr-evsa meeting him. 
 
 Brother, join thy thanks 
 To mine. [Hyllus and Creusa embrace. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 No more. \_Retiring. 
 
 Grant, ye immortal gods, 
 
 So beautiful a bond be never broken ! 
 
 {_Exit Thoas. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 He speaks of tasks. My brother, can'st endure 
 To see a hero who hath twice preserv'd 
 Thy life — upon whose forehead virtue sits 
 EnthronM in regal majesty — thus held 
 In vilest thraldom ? 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Ah ! my sweet Creusa, 
 Thy words breathe more than gratitude. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 My brother, 
 I pray thee, do not look into my face. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Nav, raise thy head, and let thine eye meet mine ; 
 It reads no anger there. Thy love is pure 
 And noble as thyself, and nobly plac'd ; 
 And one day shall be honor\l.
 
 30 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 
 
 CUEUSA. 
 
 Spare me ! 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Come, 
 The banquet hath beoiin ; the king expects us. 
 
 \^Ea;eunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Banqueting-Hall in Cr eon's Palace. 
 
 CuEON, IsMENE, IvniTVB, Ca'LCHA^^ and Corinthians. 
 settled at the Banquet. 
 
 CREON. IRiaing. 
 
 I thank ye for my son ; — he is unharm'd, 
 And soon will join our reveh-y. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 We lack 
 Attendance. Where is Thoas ? It were fit 
 In Corinth's day of triumph, he should wait 
 On his victorious enemies. Go seek him. 
 
 [_E.vit an Attendant. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 I would have spar'd his services to-day ; 
 He is but young in service, and hath done
 
 scEXK II.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. M 
 
 A glorious deed. Drink round, my friends, and pledge 
 My son once more. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 My sovereign, I should deem 
 So great a master in the skill to tame 
 The nature struggling in a free-born soul, 
 Would think it wisdom to begin betimes, 
 When an Athenian spirit should be stifled. 
 If thou would'st bend him to the yoke, 'twere best 
 Commence to-day; — to-morrow 't may be vain. 
 
 Enter Thoas. 
 Athenian ! — slave ! — 'tis well that thou hast come ; 
 Else might we fear thou didst not feel so proud 
 As such a man as thou should feel, to Avait 
 Upon his victor. Carry round the cup, 
 And bear it to the king, with duteous looks. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I will endeavour, lady. 
 
 [ Takes the cup^ and xpmJclng aside. 
 
 They will join 
 In very openness of heart, to cast 
 This shame upon me ; take the mantling cup 
 With thoughtless pleasure from a warrior's hand, 
 And smile to see it quiver ; bless the wine 
 With household names, sweet thoughts of friends afar.
 
 32 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii, 
 
 Or love which death hath hallowed ; and while springs 
 Of cordial joy are quickenM by the draught, 
 Will bid affections, generous as their own, 
 Shrink, agonize, and wither ! 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Slave ! attend ! 
 Enter Hyi.LUS and Creusa. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Hyllus, our friends have pledg'd thee; take thy place, 
 And thank them, 
 
 HVLLUS. [^ Advancing. 
 
 I am grateful. — Tlioas, thus? 
 
 CIIEON. 
 
 We blaufd thy absence, daughter. Sit beside 
 The queen. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 A humbler place befits me, father. 
 
 [_Sits at the end of the circle. 
 [Thoas attempts to hand the cup. 
 
 CREUSA. [To Hyllus. 
 
 Brother, dost see? 
 
 HYLLUS. \^Aside to Thoas, taking the 
 cup from him. 
 Thoas, I blush at this ; 
 Give me the cup. — Corinthian citizens,
 
 SCENE II.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 33 
 
 This is a moment when I cannot trust 
 
 The grace of serving you to any hand 
 
 Except mine own. The wine will send a glow 
 
 Of rare delight when minister'd by one 
 
 Who hath this day touchM life's extremest verge, 
 
 And been most bravely rescued. 
 
 [Hyllus hands the cup. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Will the king 
 Permit this mockery .'* 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Foolish stripling, cease ! 
 Let the slave hand the cup ; and having pass'd 
 Another round, fill high, for I will pour 
 A great libation out, with such a prayer 
 As every heart shall echo while the dust 
 Of Corinth drinks it in. 
 
 "-^ [Thoas takes tJie cup, and approaches Creusa. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Nay, tremble not. 
 Think thou dost pay free courtesy to one 
 Who in the fulness of a grateful heart. 
 Implores the gods to cherish thee with hope 
 For liberty and honour. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Words so sweet 
 Reward and o'erpay all.
 
 34 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ir. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Corinthians, rise ! 
 Before the gods, who have this day espoused 
 The cause of Corinth, I this votive cup 
 Pour with one glorious prayer — Ruin to Athens ! 
 
 [Thoas dashes dovcn the cup he is about to hand to the King. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Ruin to Athens ! who dares echo that ? 
 Who first repeats it dies. These limbs are arm''d 
 With vigour from the gods that watch above 
 Their own immortal offspring. Do ye dream, 
 Because chance lends ye one insulting hour. 
 That ye can quench the purest flame the gods 
 Plave lit from heaven's own fire? 
 
 HYLLUS. [^Trying to appease the 
 
 guests. 
 'Tis ecstasy — 
 Some phrenzy shakes him. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 No ! I call the gods, 
 W ho bend attentive from their azure thrones, 
 To witness to the truth of that which throbs 
 Within me now. 'Tis not a city crown'd 
 With olive and enrich 'd with peerless fanes 
 Ye would dishonour, but an opening world 
 Diviner than the soul of man hath yet
 
 SCENE II.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 35 
 
 Been gifted to imagine — truths serene, 
 Made visible in beauty, that shall glow- 
 In everlasting freshness ; unapproach'd 
 By mortal passion ; pure amidst the blood 
 And dust of conquests; never waxing old ; 
 But on the stream of time, from age to age, 
 Casting bright images of heavenly youth 
 To make the world less mournful. I behold them ! 
 And ye, frail insects of a day, would quaff 
 " Ruin to Athens !'' 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Are ye stricken all 
 To statues, that ye hear these scornful boasts, 
 And do not seize the traitor ? Bear him hence, 
 And let the executioner's keen steel 
 Prevent renewal of this outrage. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 ""^" Hold ! 
 
 Some god hath spoken through him. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Priest ! we need 
 No counsel from thee. 
 
 HYLI-US. 
 
 Father, he will bend — 
 'Twas madness — was't not, Tlioas ?■ — answer ?»e : 
 Retract thy words ! 
 
 u 2
 
 3(J THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ii. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I've spoken, and Fll die. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 'Twere foolish clemency to end so soon 
 The death.pangs of a slave who thus insults 
 The king of Corinth. I can point a cell 
 Deep in the rock, where he may wait thy leisure 
 To frame his tortures. 
 
 HYLLUS. [To CrEON. 
 
 If thou wilt not spare, 
 Deal with him in the light of day, and gaze 
 Thyself on what thou dost, but yield him not 
 A victim to that cold and cruel heart. 
 
 ISMENE. \^Aside. 
 
 Cold ! I must bear that too. (Aloud.) Thou hear'st him, 
 
 king; 
 Thou hear'st the insolence, which waxes bolder 
 Each day, as he expects thy lingering age 
 Will yield him Corinth's throne. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Ungrateful boy ! 
 Go, wander alien from my love ; avoid 
 The city"'s bounds ; and if thou dare return 
 Till I proclaim thy pardon, think to share 
 The fate of the rash slave for whom thou plead'st.
 
 SCENE II.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 37 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 King, I will grovel in the dust before thee ; 
 Will give these limbs to torture ; nay, will strain 
 Their free-born sinews for thy very sport, 
 So thou recall the sentence on thy son. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Thou wilt prolong his exile. To thy cell ! [To Thoas. 
 There wait thy time of death ; — my heart is sick — 
 But I have spoken. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Come with me, sweet sister, 
 And take a dearer parting than this scene 
 Admits. Look cheerily ; — I leave thy soul 
 A duty which shall lift it from the sphere 
 Of sighs and tremblings. Father, may the gods 
 So cherish thee that thou may''st never mourn. 
 With more than fond regret, the loss of one 
 Wliose lovC stays with thee ever. 
 
 [Exeunt Hyllus and Creusa. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 \_Offeriny to support Creon. 
 Hold ! he faints ! 
 
 CKEON. 
 
 No; — I can walk unaided- rest will soothe me. 
 
 \ Exit CreoN.
 
 53 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act ji. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Good night, my friends ! 
 
 l^Exeunt all but Ismene, Thoas, and Calchas. 
 Thou, Calchas, wait and guard 
 The prisoner to his cell. Thou know'st the place. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Lead on. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 \_Comin(j to the front to Thoas. 
 Thou wilt not sleep? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I wish no sleej) 
 To reach these eyes, till the last sleep of all. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Others may watch as well as thou. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Strange words 
 Thou speakest, fearful woman ; are they mockeries ? 
 Methinks they sound too solemn. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Said I not, 
 I am of Athens ? Hush ! These walls have echoes ; 
 Thy gaoler is of Athens, too; at midnight 
 He shall conduct thee wiiere we may discourse 
 In safety. Wilt thou follow him .^
 
 sciiNK u.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 39 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I will. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 'Tis well. Conduct the prisoner to his dungeon. 
 Remember, thou hast promis'd me. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 My blood 
 Is cold as ice ; yet will I keep the faith 
 I plight tolhee. 
 
 l^Exeunt Thoas and Calchas. 
 
 ISMENE (alone). 
 
 It is the heroic form 
 Which I have seen in watching, and in sleep 
 Frightfully broken, through the long, long, years 
 Which I have wasted here in chains, more sad 
 Than those which bind the death-devoted slave 
 To his last stony pillow. Fiery shapes. 
 That have glar'd in upon my bed to mock 
 My soul with hopes of vengeance, keep your gaze 
 Fix'd stedfast on me now ! My hour is nigh ! 
 
 [ Exit, 
 
 END OF ACT II.
 
 40 
 
 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 
 
 [act III. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 The Dungeon in the Rock, 
 Thoas discovered, alone. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Ye walls of living rock, whose time-shed stains 
 Attest that ages have revolvM since hands 
 Of man were arm'd to pierce your solid frame, 
 And, from your heart of adamant, hew out 
 Space for his fellow's wretchedness, I hail 
 A refuge in your stillness ; tyranny 
 Will not stretch forth its palsied arm to fret 
 Its captive here. Ye cannot clasp me round 
 With darkness so substantial, as can shut 
 The airy visions from me which foreshew 
 The glories Athens will achieve, when I 
 Am passionless as ye. I hear a step ! 
 It is that mournful lady's minister, 
 Who comes to waken feelings I would bid 
 For ever sleep. A light, as of a star, 
 Gleams in the narrow cavern's steep descent ;
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 41 
 
 And now a form, as of a goddess, glides 
 To illuminate its blackness. "'TIS Creusa ! 
 My heart is not yet stone. 
 
 Enter Creusa. 
 
 I venture here 
 Thus boldly to perform a holy office, 
 Which should have been my brother's. — When he fled 
 The city of his nurture, his last thoughts 
 Were bent on his preserver ; he bequeathed 
 His strong injunction never to forsake 
 The aim of thy deliverance. I exult 
 That heaven thus far has prosper''d it ; be quick, 
 And follow me to freedom. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Did'st thou say 
 To freedom, lovely one ? 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 If thou wilt haste; 
 The path is clear ; the city wrapt in sleep ; 
 I know the pass-word at the gates — how learned 
 By quaint device, 1 11 tell thee when we meet 
 In safety, — if we ever meet again ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 And dost thou wish it ? 
 
 CRKUSA. 
 
 Do I wish it ? Yes !
 
 42 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 
 
 And on the swift fulfilment of that wish 
 My life is wager 'd. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 There is more than life 
 To me in these sweet words — speak them again — 
 But no ; — once heard they linger on the ear 
 Which drank them in, for ever. Shapeless rocks 
 That witness to the sound, rejoice! No fane 
 Of alabaster while the breeze has slept 
 In circling myrtles, and the moon disclos'd 
 Young love's first blush to the rapt eyes of him 
 Whose happy boldness rais'd it, rivals you 
 In sanctity which rich affection lends 
 To things of earthly mould. Methinks ye spring 
 Rounded to columns; your dank mists are curFd 
 Upwards in heavenly shapes, and breathe perfume. 
 While every niche which caught the music speeds 
 Delicious echoes to the soul. 'Twere bliss 
 To dwell for ever here. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 O linger not ; 
 The watch will change at midnio-ht. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Midnight — Jove !- 
 
 I cannot eo 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Not go ! I ask no thanks-
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 43 
 
 No recompense — no boon, — save the delight 
 
 Of saving thee ; for this I've perill'd all — 
 
 Life, freedom, fame, — and now thou tell'st me, proud one, 
 
 That I have perillM all in vain. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Forbear, 
 In mercy ; I have pledgM my word to wait 
 A messenger the Queen will send at midnight, 
 To bring me to her presence. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 To the Queen ? 
 What would she with thee? She is steel'd 'gainst nature; 
 I never knew her shed a tear, nor heard 
 A sigh break from her, — oft she seeks a glen 
 Hard by the temple of avenging Jove, 
 Which sinks mid blasted rocks, whose narrow gorge 
 Scarce gives the bold explorer space; its sides, 
 Glistening in marble blackness, rise aloft 
 From the scant margin of a pool, whose face 
 No breeze e'er dimpled ; in its furthest shade 
 A cavern yawns, where poisonous vapours rise 
 That none may enter it and live ; they spread 
 Their rolling films of ashy white like shrouds 
 Around the fearful orifice, and kill 
 The verv lichens which the earthless stone 
 Would nurture; — whether evil men, or things
 
 44 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 
 
 More terrible, meet this sad lady there, 
 I know not — she will lead thee thither ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 No— 
 Not if guilt point the way, if it be sorrow 
 1 must endure it rather than the curse 
 Which lies upon the faithless heart of him 
 Who breaks a promise plighted to the wretched ; 
 For she is wretched. 
 
 CREIJSA. 
 
 So am I. Methinks 
 I am grown selfish ; for it is not suffering 
 I dread should fall upon thee, but I tremble 
 Lest witchery of that awful woman's grief 
 Lead thee to some rash deed. Thou art a soldier, 
 A young proficient in the game of death, 
 And mayst be wrought on — 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Do not fear for me ; 
 Where shews of glory beckon Til not wait 
 To pluck away the radiant masks and find 
 Death under them ; but at the thought of blood 
 Shed save in hottest fight, my spirit shrinks 
 As from some guilt not aim'd at human things 
 But at the majesty of gods.
 
 scENK I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 4. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Forgive me ; 
 It was a foolish terror swept across 
 My soul, — I should not have forgot 'twas mercy 
 That made thee captive. 
 
 Voice icithout. 
 Thoas ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I am call'd. 
 The voice came that way — still thy upward path 
 Is open — haste — he must not find thee here. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 My prayers — all that the weak can give— are thine. 
 Farewell ! [Exit. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 The gods for ever guard thee ! 
 She glides away — she gains the topmost ridge — 
 She"'s safe. Now can I welcome fate with bosom 
 Steel'd to endure the worst. 
 
 Voice without. 
 Thoas ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 t 
 
 I come ! \_Exit.
 
 46 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iri. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 The Hall of Statues, in Creon's Palace. 
 Enter Ismene. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Why tarries Calchas? It is past the hour 
 Of deepest night, when he should hither guide 
 The avenger of my sorrows. Gods of Athens ! 
 Whom strong expostulation hath compeird 
 To look upon my shames, one little hour 
 I ask your aid ; that granted, never more 
 Shall the constraining force of passion break 
 Your dread repose. I hear a warrior''s step — 
 Ye answer, and ye bless me. 
 
 Enter Calchas and Thoas. 
 
 It is well. 
 
 [To Calchas. 
 
 Withdraw, and wait without. I must confer 
 
 With this unyielding man, alone. 
 
 \^Exit Calchas. 
 thoas. 
 
 I wait 
 
 To learn thy will ; — why thou hast bid me leave 
 
 The stubborn rock, where I had grown as dull, 
 
 As painless, as the cell to which thy breath 
 
 Consign'd me? — thou, who urg'd the king to wreak
 
 SCENE II.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 47 
 
 His most inglorious spleen on one too low 
 To be mark'd out for anger, too resolvM 
 To heed it ! 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 I beheld in thee a soldier, 
 Born of that glorious soil whose meanest son 
 Is nobler than barbarian kings, with arm 
 Worthy to serve a daughter, who has claim 
 On its best blood. But there is softness in thee, 
 Weakening thy gallant nature, which may need 
 The discipline of agony and shame 
 To master it. Hast thou already learn'd 
 Enough to steel thee for a generous deed : 
 Or shall I wait till thou hast lingered long- 
 In sorrow's mighty school ? I'm mistress in it, 
 And know its lessons well. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 "•*:-' If thou hast aught 
 
 Of honor to suggest, I need no more 
 To fit me for thy purpose ; if thy aim 
 Hath taint of treachery or meanness in it, 
 I think no pain will bend me to thy will ; 
 At least, I pray tjic gods so ! 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Had'st thou borne 
 Long years of lingering wretchedness like mine, 
 Thou would'st not play the casuist thus. 'Tis well
 
 48 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act m. 
 
 For lusty youth, that casts no glance beyond 
 To-morrow''s fight or game, which values life 
 A gewgaw, to be perill'd at a plunge 
 From some tall rock into an eddying gulph, 
 For the next revel's glory, to collect 
 The blood into the cheek, and bravely march 
 Amidst admiring people to swift death, 
 And call its heedlessness of what it yields — 
 A sacrifice heroic. But who knows, 
 Who guesses, save the woman that endures, 
 What 'tis to pine each weary day in forms 
 All counterfeit; — each night to seek a couch 
 Throng'd by the phantoms of revenge, till age 
 Find her in all things weakened, save the wish, 
 The longing of the spirit, which laughs out 
 In mockery of the withering frame ! O Thoas, 
 I have endured all this — I, who am sprung 
 From the great race of Theseus ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 From the race 
 Of Theseus ! — of the godlike man whose name 
 Hath shone upon my childhood as a star 
 With maigic power ? 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Reduc'd to basest needs 
 By slow decay in Attica, array 'd
 
 SCENE II.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 49 
 
 In hateful splendour here, I bear small trace 
 
 Of whence I sprung. No matter — spurn Vl — disownM 
 
 By living kindred, I have converse held 
 
 With those of my great family whom Death 
 
 Hath strippM of all but glory ; and they wait 
 
 The triumph of this hour to hail me theirs. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Shame to our city, who allowed a matron 
 Of that great race to languish ! 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Let it pass ; 
 A single grief — a short and casual wrong — 
 Which — in that sense of ages past and hopes 
 Resplendent for the future, which are center'd 
 In the great thought of country, and make rich 
 The poorest citizen who feels a share 
 In her — is nothing. Had she sought my blood, 
 To mingle with the dust before the rush 
 Of some triumphant entry, I had shed it ; 
 And while my life gusli'd forth, had tasted joy 
 Akin to her rapt hero's. 'Tis thy lot — 
 Thy glorious lot — to give me all I live for, — 
 Freedom and vengeance. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 What would'st have mc do .•' 
 
 £
 
 50 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act in. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 I have not wasted all the shows of power 
 Which mock'd my grief, but used them to conceal 
 The sparks which tyrant fickleness had lit, 
 And sloth had left to smoulder. In the depths 
 Of neighbourhig caverns, foes of Creon meet 
 Who will obey thee ; lead them thence to-night — 
 Surprise the palace — slay this hated king, — 
 Or bear him as a slave to Athens. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Never ! 
 I am a foe to Corinth — not a traitor, 
 Nor will I league with treason. In the love 
 Of my own land, I honour his who cleaves 
 To the scant graces of the wildest soil, 
 As I do to the loveliness, the might, 
 The hope, of Athens. Aught else man can do. 
 In honor, shall be thine. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 I thought I knew 
 Athenians well ; and yet, thy speech is strange. 
 Whence drew thou these affections, — whence these thoughts 
 Which reach beyond a soldier's sphere ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 From Athens; 
 Her groves ; her halls ; her temples ; nay, her streets 
 Have been my teachers. I had else been rude.
 
 SCENE II.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 51 
 
 For I was left an orphan, in the charge 
 Of an old citizen, who gave my youth 
 Rough though kind nurture. Fatherless, I made 
 The city and her skies my home ; have watch'd 
 Her various aspects with a child's fond love ; 
 Hung in chill morning o'er the mountain's brow, 
 And, as the dawn broke slowly, seen her grow 
 Majestic from the darkness, till she fill'd 
 The sight and soul alike ; enjoy'd the storm 
 Which wrapt her in the mantle of its cloud, 
 While every flash that shiver'd it reveal'd 
 Some exquisite proportion, pictured once 
 And ever to the gazer ; — stood entranc'd 
 In rainy moonshine, as, one side, uprose 
 A column'd shadow, ponderous as the rock 
 Which held the Titan groaning with the sense 
 Of Jove's injustice ; on the other, shapes 
 Of dreamlike softness drew the fancy far 
 Into the glistening air ; but most I felt 
 Her loveliness, when summer-evening tints 
 Gave to my lonely childhood sense of home. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 And was no spot amidst that radiant waste 
 A home to thee indeed .'' 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 The hut which held 
 My foster-father had for me no charms, 
 
 E 2
 
 52 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 
 
 Save those his virtues shed upon its rudeness. 
 I lived abroad ;— and yet there^is a spot 
 Where I have felt that faintness of the heart 
 Which traces of oblivious childhood bring 
 Upon ripe manhood ; where small heaps of stones, 
 Blackened by fire, bear witness to a tale 
 Of rapine which destroyed my mother's cot, 
 And bore her thence to exile. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Miglity gods ! 
 Whei'e stand these ruins? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 On a gentle slope. 
 Broken by workings of an ancient quarry, 
 About a furlong from the western gate, 
 Stand these remains of penury ; one olive, 
 Projecting o'er the cottage site which fire 
 Had blighted, with two melancholy stems, 
 Stream'd o'er its meagre vestiges. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 'Tis plain ! 
 Hold ! hold ! my courage. Let the work be done, 
 And then I shall aspire. I must not wait 
 Another hour for vengeance. Dreadful powers ! 
 Who on the precipice's side at eve 
 Have bid gigantic shadows greyly pass 
 Before my mortal vision, — dismal forms
 
 SCENE II.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. .53 
 
 Of a fate-Stricken race — I see him now, 
 Whom ye led follower of your ghastly tram — 
 O nerve him for his office ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Fearful woman, 
 Speak thy command, if thou would have it reach 
 A conscious ear; for whilst thou gazest thus, 
 ]Vty Hesh seems hardening into stone ; my soul 
 Is tainted ; thought of horror courses thought 
 Like thunder-clouds swept wildly; — yet I feel 
 That I must do thy bidding. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 It is well ; — 
 Hast thou a weapon ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Yes ; the generous prince, 
 When I resign'd my arms, left me a dagger. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 The prince ! The Furies sent it by his hand, 
 For justice on his father. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 On thy husband? 
 
 ISMENE, 
 
 Husband ! Beware !— my husband moulders yet 
 AVithin his rusting armour ; sucli a word
 
 54 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 
 
 From thee may pierce the rock beneath whose shade 
 
 He fell, and curse him with a moment's life 
 
 To blast thee where we stand. If this slight king, 
 
 In the caprice of tyranny was pleas'd 
 
 To deck me out in regal robes, dost think 
 
 That in his wayward smiles, or household taunts, 
 
 I can forget the wretchedness and shame 
 
 He hurPd upon me once ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 What shame ? 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 What shame ! 
 Thou hast not heard it. Listen ! I was pluck'd 
 From the small pressure of an only babe, 
 And in my frenzy, sought the hall where Creon 
 Drain'd the frank goblet ; fell upon my knees ; 
 Embrac'd his foot-stool with my hungry arms, 
 And shriek'd aloud for liberty to seek 
 My infant's ashes, or to hear some news 
 Of how it perish'd ; — Creon did not deign 
 To look upon me, but with reckless haste 
 Dash'd me to earth ; — yes ; this disgrace he cast 
 On the proud daughter of a line which trac'd 
 Its skiey lineage to the gods, and bore 
 The impress of its origin, — on me, 
 A woman, and a mother !
 
 SCENE II.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 55 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Let me fly 
 And whet Athenian anger with thy wrongs — 
 My thoughts are strange and slaughterous. 
 
 ISMENE. [_Aftei' a pause. 
 
 Fly then ! Yes !— 
 {Aside.) 'T will be as certain. — I will point a way 
 Will lead thee through a chamber to the terrace, 
 Whence thou may'st reach the wall. Thy only peril 
 Lies in that chamber. Mark me well ; — if there 
 An arm be raisM to stay thee — if a voice 
 Be heard — or if aught mortal meet thy sight, 
 Whatever the form, thy knife is pledged to quench 
 The life that breathes there. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I obey. Farewell ! 
 "'5^'- \_He takes her hand ; she shivers ; and drops it. 
 
 -^ ISMENE. 
 
 Hold off thy hand — it thrills me. — Swear ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Who hover o'er us now, I swear ! 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 By those 
 
 Be firm. 
 That is the door ; — thou canst not miss the path. 
 Is thy steel ready .''
 
 56 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 
 
 THOAS, 
 
 Yes ; — my breast is cold 
 As is that steel. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Haste — the thick darkness wanes. 
 
 \^Ea;it TuoAS. 
 Infernal powers ! I thank ye — all is paid — 
 By thousand ectsasies in which my soul 
 Grows wanton. Calchas ! 
 
 Enter Calchas. 
 
 Wish me joy, old servant ! 
 What dost thou think of him who left me now ? 
 
 calchas. 
 A gallant soldier. ^ 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 'Tis my son — my own ! 
 The very child for whom I knelt to Creon, 
 Is sent to give me justice. He is gone, 
 Arm'd with a dagger, thro"" the royal chamber. 
 Sworn to strike any that may meet him there 
 A corpse before him. Dost thou think the king 
 Will see to-morrow.'* 
 
 CALCHAS. 
 
 He may slumber.
 
 SCENE II.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 57 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 No— 
 He hath sent his son to exile — he will wake — 
 I'm sure he will. There ! listen ! — "twas a groan I 
 ""Twill be but low — again ! 'Tis finish'd ! Shades 
 Of my immortal ancestry, look down, 
 And o\vn me of your kindred ! — Calchas, haste ; 
 Secure possession of the towers that guard 
 The city gates : — entrust them to our friends, 
 Who, when I give the word, will set them wide. 
 Haste, 'tis thy final labour. I shall soon 
 Be potent to reward the friends who clove 
 To me in my sad bondage. 
 
 CALCHAS. 
 
 Whither go'st thou .-' 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 To the pale shrine of her whose withering shield 
 
 Is dedicate to Athens. I have pray'd 
 
 At coldest midnight there, without a hope 
 
 Which might give ardour to my freezing veins. 
 
 I ask her to allay my raptures now, 
 
 By touch of marble — I require its chillness. 
 
 There I'll await the issue. It is sure ! 
 
 l^Eiceunt Ismene and Calchas.
 
 58 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act in. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 The Outskirts of a Wood on one side ; the Athenian Camp on 
 the other. A Watch-Jire at a little distance., lighting the Scene. 
 
 PENTHEUS {walking backwards and forwards as a Guard). 
 
 The cold grey dawn begins to glimmer ; speed it, 
 
 Ye powers that favour Athens ! From the sea, 
 
 Her everlasting guardian, Phoebus, rise, 
 
 To pour auspicious radiance o'er the field, 
 
 In which she may efface the foul dishonour 
 
 Her arms own'd yesterday. Not shame alone. 
 
 But loss no morrow can repair, is hers ! 
 
 Archas, our army's noble leader, sleeps 
 
 Beneath the pressure of a thousand shields ; 
 
 And Thoas, bravest of our youth, a slave — 
 
 Perchance, ere this a corpse. Friend whom I loved, 
 
 In whose advancing glories I grew proud 
 
 As though they had been mine — if yet thou breathest, 
 
 I will deliver, and if dead, avenge thee ! 
 
 O, Thoas ! 
 
 Enter Thoas wildlt/, from the Wood. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Who pronounced that wretched name, — 
 That name no honest tongue may utter more ? 
 Pentheus !
 
 SCENE III.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 59 
 
 PENTHEUS. 
 Thoas ! most welcome. Thou art come in time 
 To share a glorious conflict. Ha ! thine eyes 
 Glare with a frightful light ; — be calm, — thou art safe ; — 
 This is the camp of those who will reward 
 Thy great emprise of yesterday, with place 
 Among the foremost in the battle. Come 
 To my exulting heart. \_Offering to emhracG Thoas. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 No ! — hold me from thee ! — 
 My heart can neVr know fellowship again 
 With such as thine ; for I have paid a price 
 For this vile liberty to roam abroad. 
 And cry to woods and rocks that answer me 
 With fearful echoes : — such a price, my Pentheus — 
 My own unspotted conscience. Dost not see 
 Foul spots of blood upon this slave's apparel, 
 Polluting e'en that dress ? 
 
 PENTHEUS. 
 
 If thou hast struck 
 Some soldier down to vindicate thy freedom, 
 Who shall accuse thee "i 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 'Twas no soldier, Pentheus ; 
 No stout opponent that n)y fatal knife. 
 Dismiss'd to Erebus. A withcr'd hand,
 
 GO THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 
 
 As from an old man, in the gloom stretcird forth, 
 Scarce met my touch, — which could not have delayed 
 My course an instant ; — 'twas no thought of fear, 
 No haste for freedom, virged me, — but an oath 
 Glar'd on my soul in characters of flame, 
 And madden'd me to strike. I rais'd my arm, 
 And wildly hurl'd my dagger ; — nought but air 
 It seem'd to meet; — but a sharp feeble sigh, 
 Such as death urges when it stops the gasp 
 Of wastinjj age, assur'd me it had done 
 A murderer's office. 
 
 PENTHEUS. 
 
 Think not of it thus : — 
 Thy hps are parch'd, — let me fetch water. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 No! 
 I have drank fiercely at a mountain spring, 
 And left the stain of blood in its pure waters ; 
 It quenchM my mortal thirst, and I rejoic'd, 
 For I seem'd grown to demon, till the stream 
 Cool'd my hot throat, and then I laugh'd aloud. 
 To find that I had something human still. 
 
 PliNTHEUS. 
 
 Fret not thy noble heart with what is past. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 No ! — 'tis not past ! — the murderer has no past : 
 But one eternal present.
 
 SCENE in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 61 
 
 HYLLUS. [^Within the wood. 
 
 Help me ! — answer ! — 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 The voice of Hyllus ! — of that noble youth, 
 M'ho, for my sake, is outcast from his home, 
 So near the camp of Athens ! Should our guards 
 Arrest him, he will perish. Friend ! That voice 
 Comes on my ear like that of one who serv'd me. 
 In yonder city ; leave thy watch to me 
 A moment. 
 
 PENTHEDS. 
 
 No — thy passion's dangerous; 
 I dare not trust it. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 See — I have subdu'd 
 The pang which wrung me. By our ancient loves 
 Grant me this bcwn — perhaps the last. 
 
 PF.KTHEUS. 
 
 Re quick, 
 For the watch presently will be removM, 
 And the trump call to battle. lExit Pentheus. 
 
 THOAS. [Ca//m^ <(? Hyllus. 
 
 Here ! The hope 
 Of saving Hyllus wafts into my soul 
 A breath of comfort.
 
 62 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 
 
 Enter Hyllus. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 I have lost my path, 
 Wandering the dismal night in this old wood ; 
 Fd seek the coast ; canst thou point out the way ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Avoid it — on each side the Isthmus, ships 
 Of Athens ride at anchor. 
 
 HYLLUS. [Rewgnising him. 
 
 Thoas ! free — 
 Then I am bless'd, and I can bear my lot, 
 However hard ; — I guess the hand that op'd 
 The dungeon door ; — how didst thou quit the palace ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Why dost thou ask me that ? Through a large chamber 
 That open'd on a terrace — 'twas all dark ; — 
 Tell me who lay there ? 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 'Tis my father'^s chamber, 
 Did he awake ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Thy father ? — gods ! The king ? 
 The feeble old man with the reverend hair ? 
 Art sure he rested there ?
 
 SCENE in.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. C3 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Sure. No one else 
 May enter after sunset, save the queen. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 The queen ! alFs clear ; — Jove strike nie into marble ! 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Why dost thou tremble so ? as if a fit 
 Of ague shook thee. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Nothing — only thought 
 Of my past danger came upon my soul 
 And shook it strangely. Was the old man there ? 
 
 \_S lands abstractedly as stupefied. 
 
 PENTHEUS. IWit/lOUt. 
 
 Thoas ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Haste ! — Do not lose a moment — fly ! 
 The watch-fire that is waning now is fed 
 By hands which, madden 'd by the foul defeat 
 Of yesterday, will slay thee. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Whither fly ? 
 The camp of Athens is before me ; — ships 
 Of Athens line llic coasts, — and (Jorinth's king
 
 64 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act hi. 
 
 Hath driven me forth an exile. I'll return 
 And crave my father's pardon. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 No — not there — 
 Yet, where should the poor stripling go? O Jove ! 
 When he shall learn — 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Farewell — yet hold an instant ! — 
 Wilt' thou not send some message to Creusa, 
 That she may greet her brother with a smile ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Creusa smile ! — Methinks I see her now — 
 Her form expands — her delicate features grow 
 To giant stone ; her hairs escape their band, 
 And stream aloft in air ; — and now they take 
 The forms of fiery serpents — how they hiss — 
 And point their tongues at Thoas ! 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 This is frenzy; 
 I cannot leave thee thus : — whate'er my fate, 
 I will attend and soothe thee. 
 
 TIIOAS. 
 
 Soothe me ! — Boy, 
 Wouldst haunt me with that face which now I see 
 Is like thy father's. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Thou soothe me—
 
 SCENE III.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. (i;) 
 
 Look not upon me; by this lurid light 
 
 Thou look'st a spectre. Kence, or I will rend thee ! 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 I rather would die here. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Fool ! fool ! away ! 
 
 \^Exk Hylll-s. 
 
 He's gone — yet she is with me still, — with looks 
 
 More terribfe than anger ; — take away 
 
 That patient face, — I cannot bear its sweetness ; — 
 
 Earth, cover me ! \iFalls on the (/round. 
 
 Enter Pe.vtheus. 
 PENTHEUS. 
 
 The troops are arming fast ; 
 They call on thee to lead them.— Hark, the trump-- 
 
 [^ The trmnjyet sounds. 
 -v TIIOAS. \_Lmps up. 
 
 Yes ; I will finswcr to its call. Again 
 Thou shalt behold me strike. In yonder field 
 ril win that which I hunger for. 
 
 PEN'THEUS. 
 
 A crown 
 Of laurel which hath floated in thy dreams 
 From thy brave infancy — 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 A grave! a grave ! [^E.riioit. 
 E N n o !•■ ■; n v. t h i ii d a ct .
 
 66 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 The interior of the Funereal Grove at Corinth. 
 
 The Urn o/'Creon. 
 
 Creusa discovered lending over it. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 'Tis strange ! — 1 cannot weep for him ; I've tried 
 
 To reckon every artifice of love 
 
 Which mid my father's waywardness proclaim'd 
 
 His tenderness unalter'd ; — felt again 
 
 The sweet caresses infancy received, 
 
 And read the prideful look that made them sweeter. 
 
 Have run the old familiar round of things 
 
 Indifferent, on which affection hangs 
 
 In delicate remembrances which make 
 
 Each household custom sacred ; — Pve recall'd 
 
 From Memory's never-failing book of pain, 
 
 My own neglects of dutiful regard 
 
 Too frequent — all that should provoke a tear — 
 
 And all in vain. My feelings are as dull, 
 
 Mine eyes are rigid as when first they met
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 67 
 
 The horrid vision of his thin white hairs 
 Matted with blood. Gods ! let me know again 
 A touch of natural grief, or I shall go 
 Distract, and think the bloody form is here. 
 
 Enter HvLLUs. 
 Hyllus ! my brother ! thou wilt make me weep, 
 For we shall mourn as we were lov'd togrether. 
 Dost thou know all? 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Yes, all. — Alas ! Creusa, 
 He died in anger with me. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Do not dwell 
 On that sad thought ; — but recollect the cause 
 Was noble — the defence of one whose soul 
 Claims kindred with thine own. 
 
 f HYLLUS. 
 
 Unhappy sister. 
 What sorrow stranger than thy present grief 
 Awaits thee yet ! I cannot utter it. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Speak ; — any words of thine will comfort me. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 I fear thou must no longer link the thoughts 
 Of nobleness and Thoas. 
 
 F 2
 
 C8 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv, 
 
 CREUSA. 
 Then my soul 
 Must cease all thinkings ; for I've blended them 
 Till they have grown inseparate. What is this? 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 That he hath made us orphans. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 He is free 
 From such ignoble guiltiness as thou. 
 What fury shed this thought into a soul 
 Once proud to be his debtor ? 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Poor believer 
 In virtue's dazzling counterfeit, 'tis sad 
 To undeceive thee. At the break of day 
 I met the murderer, frantic from his crime, 
 In anguish which explained by after proofs 
 Attests his guilt. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 And is this all ? Hast said ? 
 All thou canst urge against the nobleness 
 Which breathes in every word ? Against thy life 
 Preserved at liberal hazard of his own ? 
 Against the love which I was proud to bear
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 69 
 
 For him, and that with which he more than paid uie ? 
 He in some frenzy utter'd aimless words, 
 And thou at once behev'd him guilty. Go ! 
 Haste and accuse him. Henceforth we are twain. 
 
 IIVLLUS. 
 
 Sister, I never will accuse him. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Take 
 My thanks for that small promise, though our souls, 
 While thine is tainted with this foul belief, 
 Can ne'er be mingled as they have been. Now 
 I see why I was passionless. Ismene 
 Bends her steps hither ; thou hadst best retire ; 
 She rules the city, for her secret friends 
 Cast off' their masks, and own themselves the foes 
 Of Corinth^s prince. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Beside my father's urn 
 I shall await her. 
 
 CUEUSA. 
 
 I will not expose 
 My anguish to her cold and scornful gaze ; — 
 Brother, farewell awhile; we are divided, 
 But 1 will bless thee. [E.vit.
 
 70 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 
 
 Enter IsMENE and Guards. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Wherefore art thou here, 
 Despite the sentence which the king pronounc'd 
 Of exile ? 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 I have come to mourn a father, 
 Whose words of passion had been long unsaid, 
 Had his kind heart still throbb'd ; and next, to claim 
 My heritage. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Thine ! — win it if thou canst 
 
 Enter Calchas. 
 How stands the battle ? 
 
 CALCHAS. 
 
 Corinth's soldiers fly, 
 Routed in wild disorder. Thoas leads 
 The troops of Athens, and will soon appear 
 In triumph at our gates. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Leads, say'st thou ? — leads. -* 
 Let Corinth's gates stand open to admit 
 The hero, — give him conduct to the hall, 
 AVhere sculpturM glories of Corinthian kings
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 71 
 
 Shall circle him who sham'd them, — there, alone, 
 
 I would crave speech with him. [Exit Calchas. 
 
 HYLLUS. [To the Soldiers. 
 
 My countrymen, 
 Will ye endure this shame ? I am a youth 
 Unskill'd in war ; but I have learn'd to die 
 When life is infamy. If ye will join me, 
 We'll closethe gates with ramparts of the slain. 
 Does no heart answer mine ? 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Their swords shall curb 
 Thy idle ravings. Athens triumphs now ! — 
 Attend him to his chamber, and beware 
 He leaves it not. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 For this I ought to thank thee : 
 I would not see my country's foul disgrace ; 
 But thou shalt tremble yet. [Exit, guarded. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Now shall I clasp him — 
 Clasp him a victor o'er my country's foes ; — 
 The slayer of him most hated. Double transport ! 
 The dream of great revenge 1 lived upon 
 Was never bright with image of such joy. 
 And now comes linked with vengeance ! Thoas, haste ! 
 
 [ Exit.
 
 72 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv, 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Btfore the Gates of Corinth. 
 Shouts without. 
 Enter Thoas in armour., with his sword drawn, and 
 Athenian Soldiers, as hi pursuit. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Here we may breathe awhile from conquest ; 'twas 
 A noble chase, we scarce may call it battle ; 
 Success so quick hath followed on success, 
 That we shall want more time to count our glories 
 Than we have spent in winning them. The foe 
 Is niggard, and will not allow our arms 
 One day of conflict. We have won too soon. 
 Grant me, great gods, instead of years of life, 
 Another such an hour ! 
 
 SOLDI KR. 
 
 My lord, here's wine; 
 'Tis from the tents of Corinth. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Not a drop. 
 My heart's too light-'— too jocimd, to allow 
 Another touch of ecstacv, deriv'd 
 From mortal fruitage ; nay, were it Jove's nectar, 
 I'd set the untasted cup of crystal down, 
 And wait till all our glorious work were finished !
 
 SCENE II.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 73 
 
 Soldiers ! we sup in Corinth ! YoirU not wait 
 Past time of luuiger, if ye are not faint 
 With rapid conquest. 
 
 Enter Pentheus and Suldiers. 
 PENTHEUS. 
 
 Noble leader, hail ! 
 Thy country's heroes bless thee with the sense 
 Of their delighted wonder ! With one voice 
 They greet thee as the winner of this fight, 
 To which thou led them. Never was a scheme 
 Of battle, plann'd in council of the sage, 
 Form'd with a skill more exquisite than that 
 Which, in the instant thou wert call'd to lead us, 
 Flash'd on thy spirit, and in lines of fire 
 From thine was manifest to ours ! Art wounded .'* 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 A very scratch ; 1 blush to think no more: 
 Some frolic blood let in the strife had serv'd 
 To moderate my fervours. 
 
 PKXTHEUS. 
 
 See ; our comrades 
 Have snatched a branch from the Corinthian laurels 
 (Which now I fear nuist wither) for a wreath 
 'Vo grace thy brow ! .Soldiers, 'tis much I ask ; 
 Rut when 1 tell ye I have walch'd voin- chief
 
 74 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 
 
 From the first flash that dazzled in his eye 
 
 At tale of glory, ye may yield to me 
 
 The proud delight of offering him this honor. 
 
 [Soldier ffives the tcreath to Pentheus, tcho gives it to 
 
 Thoas. 
 
 pentheus. 
 I thank ye, comrades. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 The immortal gods 
 Grant me a double blessing in the friend 
 From whom I take this happiness. O, Pentheus ! 
 I have mus'd fondly — proudly — on the fate 
 Which waits upon my country ; when the brow 
 Which thou wouldst deck, was bar"'d to mist and storm ; 
 When every moonlit fountain which displaced 
 The blackness of the moss-grown hillock told 
 Of the pure beauty which her name should keep, 
 Empearling starless ages; when each wave 
 That rippled in her harbour to my ear 
 Spoke glad submission to the Queen of Cities ; 
 But never, 'mid my burning hopes for Athens, 
 Did I believe that / should stand thus crown'd, 
 Her laureird soldier ! Friends, the sun-light wanes, 
 And we must sup in Corinth ! 
 
 PENTHEUS. 
 
 See, the gates 
 0})cn to welcome us ! {_The gates open.
 
 scKNE u.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 75 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Without a blow ? 
 We shall not earn our banquet. So expands 
 Before the vision of my soul, the east 
 To the small cluster of our godlike sons. 
 Let Asia break the mirror of our seas 
 With thousand sterns of ivory, and cast 
 The glare _of gold upon them to disturb 
 The azure hue of heaven, they shall be swept 
 As glittering clouds before the sun-like face 
 Of unapplianced virtue ! Friends, forgive me ; 
 I have been used to idle thought, nor yet 
 Have learn'd to marry it to action. Blest 
 To-day in both. 
 
 PENTHEUS. 
 
 A herald from the city. 
 / Enter Calchas. 
 
 CALCHAS. 
 
 I am connnission'd by the queen to speak 
 With Thoas. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I am here. 
 
 [ Trembles, and supports himself, as paralysed, on 
 Pentheus. 
 
 Thou art commission'd 
 J-'rom the infernal j)o\vers to cross my path
 
 76 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 
 
 Of glorious triumph, with a shape tliat brings 
 Before me terrible remembrance, which 
 Had strangely vanish'd from me. 
 
 PENTHEUs. ['/'o the Soldiers. 
 
 He is ill, — 
 Retire. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 No — sliould the herald fade in air 
 He would not leave his office unfulfill'd. 
 One look hath smit my soul. 
 
 PENTHEUS. 
 
 Is this a dream .'' 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 No — 'tis a dreadful wakino- — I have dreamt 
 
 Of honour, and have struggled in my dream 
 
 For Athens, as if I deserved to fight 
 
 Unsullied in her cause. The joy of battle 
 
 In eddies as a whirlpool had engulfVl 
 
 The thought of one sad moment, when n)y soul 
 
 Was blasted ; but it rises in the calm, 
 
 Like to a slaughter 'd seaman, who pursues 
 
 I'he murderous vessel which swept proudly on. 
 
 When his death-gurgle ended. Hence, vain wreath ! — 
 
 Thou wouldst entwine n)y brow with serpent coldness, 
 
 And wither instant there. \_Tcars iheu-recith.
 
 SCENE 11.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 7/ 
 
 So vanish all 
 My hopes; they are gone — Vm fit to answer thee 
 Who sent thee here ? [To Calchas. 
 
 CALCHAS. 
 
 The queen. 
 
 THOAS- 
 
 A worthy mistress 
 Of such a slave— thy errand ? 
 
 CALCHAS. 
 
 She who rules 
 In Corinth now, admits the victor's power, 
 And bids the gates thus open : she requires 
 A conference with Thoas in the hall 
 Next to the royal chamber — thou hast been 
 There, as I think, my lord. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 f 
 
 I know full well , 
 Lead, dreadful herald, on. 
 
 PENTHEUS. 
 
 I'he troops attend 
 The order of their general. 
 
 TiiOAS. ZTo Caixhas. 
 
 Why dorit wait ? 
 Thou sce'st that I obey thy call.
 
 7a THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 
 
 PENTHEUS. 
 
 My friend, 
 Thy blood is fever'd — thou may'st choose thy time- 
 Postpone this meeting. 
 
 THOAS. \iTo CaLCHAS. 
 
 Why dost tarry ? turn 
 Thy face away — it maddens me — go on ! 
 
 [_Ea;it after Calchas. 
 
 SOLDIER. [To PENTHliUS. 
 
 My lord, we wait for orders ; this strange man, 
 Half warrior and half rhapsodist, may bring 
 Our army into peril. 
 
 PENTHEUS. 
 
 Fear it not ; 
 He has all elements of greatness in him. 
 Although as yet not perfectly commingled, 
 Which is sole privilege of gods. They cast 
 Such piteous weakness on the noblest men 
 That we may feel them mortal. 'Tis a cloud 
 Which speedily will pass, and thou shalt see 
 The hero shine as clearly forth in council 
 As he has done in victory. Meanwhile 
 He leaves us pleasant duty — form your lines — 
 Sound trumpets— march triumphant into Corinth ! 
 
 \^T/ie Athenians enter Corinth.
 
 SCENE III.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 79 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 The Hall of Statues in the Palace^ same as in Third Act. 
 
 THOAS. l^Alone. 
 
 Again I stand within this awful hall ; 
 I found the entrance here, without the sense 
 Of vision ; for a foul and clinging mist, 
 Like the damp vapour of a long-closed vault, 
 Is round me. Now its objects start to sight 
 With terrible distinctness ! Crimson stains 
 Break sudden on the walls ! The fretted roof 
 Grows living ! Let me hear a human voice. 
 Or I shall play the madman ! 
 
 Enter IsMENE, richly dressed. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Noble soldier, 
 I bid thee welcome, with the rapturous heart 
 Of one, for whom thy patriot arm hath wrought 
 Deliverance and revenge — but more for Athens 
 Than for myself, I hail thee: why dost droop ? 
 Art thou oppressed with honours, as a weight 
 Thou wert not born to carry ? I will tell 
 That which shall show thee native to the load,
 
 80 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 
 
 And will requite thee with a joy as great 
 As that thou hast conferral. Thy life was hid 
 Beneath inglorious accident, till force 
 Of its strong current urged it forth to day, 
 To glisten and expand in sun-light. Know 
 That it has issu'd from a fountain great 
 As is its destiny, — Thou sharest with me 
 The blood of Theseus. 
 
 TIIOAS. 
 
 If thy speech is true, 
 And I have something in me which responds 
 To its high tidings, I am doom'd to bear 
 A heavier woe than I believ'd the gods 
 Would ever lay on mortal ; I have stood 
 Unwittingly upon a skiey height, 
 By ponderous gloom encircled, — thou hast shown 
 The mountain-summit mournfully reversM 
 In the black mirror of a lurid lake, 
 Whose waters soon shall cover me, — I've stain*'d 
 A freeman's nature ; thou hast shown it sprung 
 From gods and heroes, and wouldst have me proud 
 Of the foul sacrilege. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 If that just deed, 
 Which thus disturbs thy fancy, were a crime, 
 What is it in the range of glorious acts. 
 Past and to come, to which thou art allied.
 
 SCENE III.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 81 
 
 But a faint speck, an atom, which no eye 
 But thine would dwell on ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 It infests them all, 
 Spreads out funereal blackness as they pass 
 In sad review before me. Hadst thou pour'd 
 This greatness on my unpolluted heart, 
 How had it bounded ! now it tortures me. 
 From thee, fell sorceress, who snar'd my soul 
 Here — in this very hall ! — May the strong curse 
 Which breathes from out the ruins of a nature 
 Blasted by guilt — 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Hold ! Parricide — forbear ! 
 She whom thou hast aveng'd, she whom the death 
 Of Creon hath set free, whom thou wouldst curse, 
 Is she who bore thee ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Thou ! 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Dost doubt my word ? 
 Is there no witness in thy mantling blood 
 Which tells thee whence 'twas drawn ? Is nature silent ? 
 If, from the mists of infancy, no form 
 Of her who, sunk in poverty, forgat 
 Its ills in tending tlu'c, and made tlic hopes
 
 82 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv, 
 
 Wliicli glimmer'd in thy smiles her comfort,— gleams 
 Upon thee yet ;— hast thou forgot the night 
 When foragers from Corinth toss'd a brand 
 Upon the roof that sheltered thee ; dragged out 
 The mother from the hearth-stone where she sat, 
 Resigned to perish, shrieking for the babe 
 Whom from her bosom they had rent ? That child 
 Now listens. As in rapid flight, I gazed 
 Backward upon the blazing ruin, shapes 
 Of furies, from amid the fire, lookM out 
 And grinn'd upon me. Every weary night 
 While I have lain upon my wretched bed. 
 They have been with me, pointing to the hour 
 Of vengeance. Thou hast wrought it for me, son ! 
 Embrace thy mother. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Would the solid earth 
 Would open, and enfold me in its strong 
 And stifling grasp, that I might be as though 
 I ne'er was born. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Dost mock me ? I have clasp''d 
 Sorrow and shame as if they were my sons, 
 To keep my heart from hardening into stone ; 
 The promised hour arrival ; and when it came, 
 The furies, in repayment, sent an arm,
 
 SCENE III.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 8."? 
 
 Moulded from mine, to strike the oppressor dead. 
 I triumph'd, — and I sent thee! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Dost confess 
 That, conscious who I was, thou urg'd ray knife 
 Against the king ? 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 '~ Confess ! — I glory in it ! — 
 
 Thy arm hath done the purpose of my will ; 
 For which I bless it. Now I am thy suitor. 
 Victorious hero ! Pay me for those cares 
 Long past, which man ne'er guesses at ; — for years 
 Of daily, silent suffering, which young soldiers 
 Have not a word to body forth ; for all, — 
 By filling for a moment these fond arms, 
 Which held thee first. 
 
 / THOAS. \_Shrinkin(j from her. 
 
 I cannot. I will kneel, 
 To thank thee for thy love, ere thou didst kill 
 Honour and hope ; — then grovel at thy feet. 
 And pray thee trample out the wretched life 
 Thou gav'st me. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Ha ! Beware, unfeeling man : — 
 I had oppos'd, had crushed all human loves, 
 And they were withered ; thou hast call'd them forth, 
 
 G 2
 
 84 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [apt iv. 
 
 Rushing in crowds from memory's thousand cells, 
 To scoff at them. Beware ! They will not slumber, 
 But sting like scorpions. 
 
 Enter Iphitus. 
 
 Wherefore dost intrude 
 On this high conference ? 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 The people cry 
 That solemn inquisition should be held 
 For Creon's blood ;— else do they fear the gods 
 Will visit it on them. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 They need not fear. 
 It will be well aveng'd. 
 
 IPHITUS, 
 
 To thee, Ismene, 
 That which I next must speak, is of dear import ; — 
 Wilt hear it in this noble stranger's presence ? 
 
 ISMENE, 
 
 Say on, old man, 
 
 IPHITUS, 
 
 From the old crumbling altar, 
 Just as the gates were open'd, breath'd a voice 
 In whisper low, yet heard through each recess 
 Of Jove's vast temple, bidding us to seek
 
 SCENE III.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 85 
 
 Of thee, Ismene, who the murderer is, 
 And summon thee to the same fearful spot, 
 To speak it there. 
 
 ISMENE. [To ThOAS. 
 
 Athenian ! dost thou hear ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I hear. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 The hostile nations lay aside 
 Their quarrel, till this justice to the dead 
 Is render'd. Chiefs of each will guard the fane. 
 And wait the solemn issue. — In their name. 
 And in the mightier name of him whose shrine 
 Hath burst long silence, I command thee, queen, 
 Thou presently be there. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 I shall obey — 
 Beside the altar place the regal seat ; 
 And there, in state befitting Corinth's queen, 
 I'll take my place. [To Thoas. 
 
 Farewell ! T/iou wilt be there ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Be sure 1 will not fail. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 'Tis well ! 'Tis well ! lE.vit.
 
 86 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 Thou saidst thou shouldst attend ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I shall. What more 
 Would'st thou have with me ? 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 I would ask a band 
 Of the most noble of Athenian youth, 
 To witness this procedure ; and to lend 
 Their conduct, should the murderer stand reveal'd, 
 To keep the course of justice unassail'd, 
 And line the path of death. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 All that can make 
 The wretch accurs''d, shall wait him. Let me breathe 
 Alone a moment. \^Ea;it Iphitus. 
 
 How they'll start to see 
 The guilty one descend the solemn steps, 
 And hang their heads for shame, and turn their eyes 
 In mercy from him. \^Goin^. 
 
 Enter Creusa. 
 
 CMIEUSA. 
 
 For a moment hear me — ■ 
 I would not break on thy triumphant hours, 
 Kut for my brother's sake. Do not refuse,
 
 SCENE III.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 87 
 
 For, if he wronged tliee by a frantic thought, 
 There was one ready to defend thy honour 
 From slightest taint ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 What taint ? the breath of infamy 
 Spreads o'er my name already ! 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Do not ask — 
 'Twas a wild thought ; — but there are tongues which make 
 As false a charge ; tongues which have power to crush 
 The guiltless ! — They have murmur'd that this crime 
 Is that of Hyllus ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Hyllus the unsullied ! 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 I knew that thou would'st say so — that no force 
 Of circumstance would weigh in thy pure thought 
 Against the beauty of his life. They found him 
 Just after day-break, suddenly return"'d 
 From exile, in the chamber of the king, 
 Gazing with bloodless aspect on a sight 
 Of bloodshed ; — yet thou dost not think 'twas he 
 That with a craven hand — 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 O no!
 
 88 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 And thou 
 Wiit plead his cause — wilt save him from the fate 
 That threatens his young life ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 My own shall first 
 Be quench 'd ! 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 The gods repay thee for the word ! 
 O brother, brother ! could'st thou wrong this heart 
 With one suspicion ? Why dost turn away, 
 And shrink and shudder in the warrior's dress, 
 As when I thank'd thee for that brother's life, 
 At the slave's vest which then, in thy proud thought, 
 Debas'd the wearer ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 O, I thought so then ! 
 Now I would give the treasures of the deep, 
 Nay more — the hope of glory — to resume 
 Those servile garments with the spotless thoughts 
 Of yesterday. 
 
 Enter Messenger. 
 
 MESSENGER. 
 
 My general, Pentheus, asks 
 If, by thy sanction, Iphitus requires 
 His presence in the temple?
 
 SCENE HI.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 89 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Pentheus ? — Yes. 
 
 CREUSA. [Thoas <^tr«s rtit'rty. 
 
 Why in the temple ? wilt not speak ? 
 
 MESSENGER. 
 
 There summons all to some high trial. 
 
 The priest 
 
 CKEUSA. 
 
 I see it ! — 
 They meet to judge my brother. I will fly — 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Thou must not, lady — in that fearful place, 
 Horrors unguess'd at by thy gentle nature 
 Will freeze thy youthful blood, that thou shalt pass 
 No happy moment more. 
 
 f CREUSA. 
 
 And what have 1 
 To do with happiness .'' I am not young, 
 For I grew old in moments charg'd with love 
 And anguish. Now I feel that I could point 
 The murderer out with dreadful skill — could mark 
 The livid paleness, read the shrinking eye, 
 Detect the empty grasping of the hand 
 Renewing fancietl slaughter ; — why dost turn 
 Thus coldly from me.'' — Ah ' thou hast forgot
 
 90 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act iv. 
 
 The vows which, when in slavery, thou ofFer'd, 
 
 And I was proud to answer — if not, Thoas, 
 
 Once press my liand ; O gods ! he lets it fall ! — 
 
 So withers my last hope — so my poor heart 
 
 Is broken. \^Faints. 
 
 THOAS. [To Messenger. 
 
 Take her gently in. \_Messenffer supports her out. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 One glance. \_Looks at her and shudders. 
 O that the beauty I have lov'd and worshipp'd 
 Should be a thing to shiver me ! — 'Tis just. [Exit. 
 
 END OF ACT IV.
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 91 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 The Interior of the Temple of Jupiter the Avenger — IsMENE 
 seated in the midst, in a Chair of State — Corinthians 
 on the right^ and Athenians on the left^ side of the Tem- 
 ■ pie — At the extremity on the right side, Hyllus stand- 
 ing — At the extremity of the left, Thoas seated. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Corinthians and Athenians ! late opposed 
 
 In mortal conflict, dedicated now 
 
 To solemn work of Justice, hear the will 
 
 Of the Avenffine: Power, beneath whose roof 
 
 Ye stand thus marshall'd. Royal blood hath stained 
 
 A palace floor ;— not shed in blazing war. 
 
 But in night's peace; not some hot soldiers blood. 
 
 But the thin current of a frame made sacred 
 
 To Orcus' gentlest arrow. Heaven requires 
 
 Both nations to unite in dealing death 
 
 Upon the slayer, who, unslain, will draw 
 
 Its withering curse on both. In yonder shrine 
 
 Which dim tradition's fearful whispers made
 
 92 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v. 
 
 A terror to my infancy, a voice, 
 
 Which breath'd fell murmurs to ancestral ears, 
 
 Breaks centuries of silence to pronounce 
 
 The Queen as gifted to direct the shaft 
 
 To the curs'd head ; — and every sign around us 
 
 By which the world invisible, when charged 
 
 AVith bloody secret, struggles to subdue 
 
 Things visible to organs which may send 
 
 Its meaning to the startled soul, attest 
 
 The duty I assume. — Ismene ! 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Priest 
 Of Jove, I am attendant to thy summons ; — 
 What is thy wish ? 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Sad widow of a king 
 Whose feeble life some cruel hand hath stopp'd, 
 I do adjure thee, by these hoary hairs. 
 That chang'd their hue from raven whilst thou shar'd 
 His mansion ; — by celestial powers, who watch 
 Our firmness now ; — and by those fearful gods, 
 Whom 'tis unblest to mention, lay aside 
 All terror, all affection, all remorse, — 
 If cause of penitence thou hast, to rend 
 The veil of darkness which the murderer wears, 
 And give him to his destiny. Begin
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 93, 
 
 The solemn strain which shall attune our souls 
 To hearken and to execute ! 
 
 \_Solemn music. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Ismene, 
 Speak : Dost thou know the slayer ? 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Yes ! 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Behold him now ? 
 
 Dost thou 
 
 ISMENE. \_Looking rcildh/ round. 
 I do not see the faces 
 Or know the names of all. Who is the man 
 That at the rijjht side of the circle stands ? 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 The youth with head erect and cloudless brow ? 
 That is the orphan'd Hyllus. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Who is he 
 That sits upon the the other side, apart, 
 With face averted ? 
 
 I Thoas turns his head suddenly^ and looks upon her. 
 I behold him now. 
 It is a dreadful duty you exact 
 From me — a woman. If I speak the name. 
 What sentence follows?
 
 94 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Death ! 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 And soon performed ? 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 The Fates require that he thou shalt denounce 
 
 As guilty, must be led in silence hence, 
 
 And none behold him after, save his slayers. 
 
 Attend once more ! Thou hast declared thou know'st 
 
 The guilty one ! I ask thee — is he here ? 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Gods ! He is. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Name him ! 
 
 CALCHAS. 
 
 She shudders ! See, — 
 
 1 think she cannot speak ! 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 If quivering tongue 
 Refuse its office, point the victim out. 
 
 [IsMENE rises; turns towards Thoas, who rises, and 
 confronts her ; she trembles, patises, and resumes her seat^ 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Thou hast confessed the guilty one is here ; 
 Where stands he .'' 
 
 QIsMENE rises; points to Hyllus, shrieks " There ! " and 
 falls hack senseless in her chair.
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 95 
 
 THOAS. 
 'Tis false ! 
 
 [Creusa riishes foricard and embraces Hvi.i.us. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Most false ! O murderess ! 
 Protect him, noble Tlioas ! 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Peace, my sister: — 
 Implore no mortal aid ; let us be patient, 
 And suffer calmly what the gods decree. 
 My life may satisfy. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 It cannot be ! 
 Hold — stir not — breathe not — from that shrine the voice 
 Of heaven will answer hers. Do ye not hear ? [_A pause. 
 Hark ! — It is voiceless, and the youth is doom'd. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Forbear, ye murderous judges; — look upon him ! 
 See on his forehead Nature's glorious seal 
 Of innocence, outspeaking thousand voices, 
 Whicli shining in the presence of the gods 
 Still shows him guiltless. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Prove it. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 With my life-blood ! 
 O could ye place me in some dizzy cleft
 
 ;»G THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v. 
 
 Of inmost Thracian hills, when ribbVl with ice, 
 To hear from every rocky shelf a howl 
 Of wolves arous'd to famine, — I would stand— 
 Calm, — O far calmer than I stand, — to wait 
 Their fangs, and let my tortur'd sinews' strength 
 Attest his cause ; — 'twere nothing — 'twere no pain — 
 To what the spirit feels. Thou talk'st of curses : 
 Beware ! There is no curse with such a power 
 As that of guiltless blood pour'd out by mortals 
 In the mock'd name of justice. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 \^To Thoas, aside. 
 Thou wilt tell 
 Thy secret ; — keep it. Leave me to my doom. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Never ! Corinthians, hear me 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 l^Recofierinff. 
 What is this ? 
 Why waits the parricide still there.? Who dares 
 Dispute my sentence ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I! ' 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Be silent. She 
 Who most in all the world should have command 
 Cer thee, requires thy silence.
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 97 
 
 PENTHEUs. \Jiteppmg forward from 
 the Athenian rank. 
 By what right 
 Dost thou — Queen of the vanquish'd — dare command 
 The leader of the conquerors ? 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 By a mother's. 
 (^Thoas sinks into his seat — Ismenk descends and 
 stands beside him. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Athenians — victors ! — ^"tis your fitting name, 
 By which I joy to greet you. Ye behold 
 One whom ye left to suffer, but who boasts 
 Your noblest blood. See ! 1 command my son 
 To quit this roof, and leave me to the work 
 The gods have destined for me. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 ' Stand aside ! 
 
 I have a suit I would prefer alone, 
 Which may save guilt and sorrow. 
 
 iPHiTus. [To Hyli.us. 
 
 Lean on me. 
 To Thoas.] Be brief. 
 
 HYLI.US. 
 
 I liavc no need ; yet I will take 
 This thy last kindness; for I can accept it 
 Without a blush or shudder. 
 
 M
 
 9& THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v. 
 
 l^All retire, leaving Thoas and Ismene in front. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Why hast heap'd 
 Foul crime on crime ? 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Son ! there has been no crime 
 Except for thee. The love that thou hast scorn'd 
 From the heart's long-closed shrine, outwhisper'd fate, 
 And saved thee. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Saved me ! Thou mayest save me yet ; 
 Recall thy sentence. Give me truth and death ! 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 And own my falsehood ? No ! Let us go hence 
 Together. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 And permit this youth to die ! 
 O that some god would mirror to my soul 
 Our mortal passage, while the arid sand 
 We pace ; the yellow, sunless, sky above us ; 
 And forms distort with anguish, which shall meet 
 Each vain attempt to be alone, enclose 
 The conscious blasters of the earth, till forced 
 To gaze upon each other, we behold, 
 As in eternal registry, the curse 
 Writ in the face of each ! No ; let us pray 
 For torture and for peace !
 
 scENK I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 99 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 If thou remain. 
 And risk dishonour to our house and me, 
 The poisonous cave below shall be my home, 
 And shelter me for ever ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Thou art brave, 
 As fits a matron of heroic line ; 
 Be great in penitence, and we shall meet 
 Absolv'd, where I may join my hand to thine. 
 And walk in duteous silence by thy side. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 ,1 
 And couldst thou love me then ? 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Love thee ! My mother, 
 When thou didst speak that word, the gloom of years 
 Was parted, — and I knew again the face 
 Which linger 'd o'er my infancy, — so pale. 
 So proud, so beautiful ! I kneel again, 
 A child, and plead to that unharden'd heart, 
 By all the long past hours of priceless love, 
 To let my gushing soul pass forth in grace, 
 And bless thee in its parting ! 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Never ! 
 TiioAS. \_Risiii^. 
 
 Ves !
 
 100 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v. 
 
 Haste ere the roof shall fall, and crush the germ 
 Of sweet repentance in us ; take thy seat, 
 And speak as thy heart dictates — 
 
 [_Dra'wincf Ismene toicards her seat. 
 Hear again ! 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Unhand me — rebel son ! Assembled Chiefs, 
 Ye called me — I have spoken once — I speak 
 No more ; make way there ! — I must pass alone ! 
 
 \_Exh Ismene. 
 thoas. 
 
 [_Calling to Ismene. 
 O ! mother, stay ! She's gone. 
 
 \^Sinks into his chair. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Her word decides, 
 Unless the gods disown it. Peace ! the altar 
 Is silent ; the last moment presses on us — 
 Hyllus, the doomed, stand forth ! 
 
 creusa. 
 
 O pause ; to thee 
 
 Thoas, I call ; thou know'st him guiltless. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Hold ! 
 No mortal passion can have utterance here. 
 When Fate is audible. To yield is ours ; 
 Be calm as Hyllus, or forego his hand.
 
 SCENE 1.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. 101 
 
 [Creusa sinks on her knees beside HvLLUS; Iphitus la^/s 
 one hand on the head o/" Hyllus, and raises the other toicards 
 heaven. 
 
 IPHITUS. 
 
 Dread Power, that bade us to this fane, accept 
 The expiation that we offer now, 
 And let this blood poured forth atone. 
 
 " QThoas suddenly falls from his seat to the ground. 
 Creusa ncshes to him, and all surround him. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Gods ! what is this new horror ? 
 
 {^Openinj the vest o/Thoas, the dagger falls from it. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 There! "Tis done ! 
 'Tis well acconiplish'd. 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 HylUis, go ! 
 Brother, no more — for thee he perishes. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 I will not purchase a last taste of sweetness 
 
 By such estrangement. That steel bears the blood 
 
 Of Creon and his slayer; — how excus'd 
 
 I leave you, generous king, to witness for me.
 
 102 THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. [act v. 
 
 Enter Calchas. 
 
 CALCHAS. 
 
 The queen ! 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Hold life a moment — what of her? 
 
 CALCHAS. 
 
 She ruiih'd. 
 With looks none dared to question, to the cave ; 
 Paused at its horrid portal ; toss'd her arms 
 Wildly abroad ; then drew them to her breast, 
 
 As if she clasp'd a vision 'd infant there ; 
 
 And as her eye, uplifted to the crag, 
 
 Met those who might prevent her course, withdrew 
 
 Her backward step amidst the deadly clouds 
 
 Which veil'd her— till tlie spectral shape was lost. 
 
 Where none dare ever tread to seek for that 
 
 Which was Ismene. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 Peace be with her ! Pentheus, 
 Thy hand ; — let Hyllus reign in honour here ; — 
 Convey me to the city of my love ; 
 Her future years of glory stream more clear 
 Than ever on n)y soul. O Athens ! Athens ! [^Dies. 
 
 HYLLUS. 
 
 Sister ! 
 
 CREUSA. 
 
 Forgive mc, brother. 
 
 [_Falls on the neck of Hi/llus.
 
 SCENE I.] THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE. lO.l 
 
 IIYLLUS. 
 
 Weep there ; 'tis thy home. 
 Fate, that has smitten us so young, leaves this — 
 That we shall cleave together to the grave. 
 
 THE CURTAIN FALLS. 
 
 THE END.
 
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