PR 35^5 M^£ % ^UT URYDIC^: PR 3545 M4e [Mai 16 t^ Eurydice . University of California At Los Angeles The Library Form L I 3545 M44- ''ate star - "• he|o-v ^r^RSITY olCAlAFQ. L LIEIlAi;^ EURYDICE. A TRAGEDY. Aclcd at the THEATRE-ROYAL I N D R U R Y-LANEy By His Majesty's Servants. • • « ! rf L O N D O N: Printed for A. Millar, at BuJ.yanan^s Ilcath over - againft St. CUmenL*s Church, in the S{r,7;].i. M.nrr."^x\'r. (Price I s. 6 J.) li I > ^ i (iii) To His Grace The Duke ofMoutrofe. My Lord, IBcg leave to fhelter the following tragedy under your Grace's pa- tronage: a fmall, but iinceic, return of Gratitude for the many obliga- tions I have to your Grace; and in particular, for the generous concern witli which you efpoufed and fuppor- tcd the intercft of this performance : A 2 and iv D E D I C A T I N. and to which I am greatly indebted for its reputation and fuccefs. Permit me to add, in juPcice to your Grace, (and I do it with equal pride and pleafure) that I received this indulgence, without being obli- ged to pay for it that adulation and bafenefs of heart, which is, fome- times, exadled by the vulgar Great ; but is, more frequently, the volun- tary, ill-judged offering of mean and venal writers. 1 am, with the truefb zeal and attachment. My Lord, Your Grace s mojl obliged ^ a72d mcjl faithftdfervant. V i PROLOGUE. Written by Aaron Hill, Efq-, Spoken by Mr. W i l k s. \ IiV )ouf/.\ Vihen 7fiode(ly and merit meet^ Hoii< rare the iniion! aiid the force hoio Jh:eet ! 7'bo' at friall praije our humble author aimsj His frie?i{i may give hiw^ i^hat his blujb difclaimt. Ladies ! — to you he makes his chief addrefs j Tormd-i to be frayd to-, avd even bor?! to blefs ! Hefeefs your piiiier, himfelf, and makes it felt ^ His (cejies i:^ill teach each fiuhborn heart to melt : And each fair eye^ that now jhines j'oftly here, ^Aiion Jhall Jhi7/ey jiill fofttrj thro" a tear. L.et not conf-rai?it your geii'rous fghs reprefs. Nor "veil compajjion^ nor repel diflrefs. Tour fex's flroigth is in fuch iveaknefsfound; •^ And fghs and tears but help your charms to 'wound. N« Of all the --jjonders taught us by the fair, ^Tis ft range a yTvx^edy I baud lofe their care! Wioere Love, Jujt tyrant! in full glory reigns; And fovreign Beauty holds the 'world in chains. ^ Lefs poli'jyd, avd more bold-, the Comic Mufe ^ Unkings )0:(r Cupid, or obfiruiis his vie'ws :, ^ Upholds prefuming "wit's familiar claim, ^ And blots out awe fro7n Lovers dirnini'Jfd flame. Finds, or makes faults, aiul fets 'em firong in fight. And dares draw WoMAN falfe, or vain, or light. IVljile Tragedy — your fervant, trfd, and true. Still to your jame devoted, and to You! Evfla'j d to Love, fubdud ambitioji briiigs. Firms Beauty's pcwer, and croiuns it king of kings. Let -wi/ba attention grace our fcene to-night, A7id nio-irnd affi:clioi:s move refnd delight. Each tt.ider light of life -we recommejid ; Wife, husband, fubject, parent, fon, and friend! All! PROLOGUE. All! your i7npafJion''dInt'rf'fls l]?all evgage^ jind hopes and fears ^ and piiy-, fre the flage. Then-, -when foft forroivfivells thf' fair one's breajly And fad hnpreffions mix 'with nightly re^^ Vleafing remembrance fjjall our fcene fupply^ And the fiveet faddening infue7tce never die. E P I- <^ '^•?»'<^*r1?<^•*W'r»;T^^?^.*^^?'??ie-, iveah'WoMA.nl I for fake ye. Who'd he a irife ? 'v:hen each vcjo Play ca7t teach us To 'jihat fij.e ends thefe Lords o/ours befcech us ? At fir fly "jchaie'cr they do, they do~{o charminc^.* But mark -z^hat follows ^ frightful! arrd alarming ! They feed too faft on Love; then fck'ntJig tell us^ They cant^ forfootk^ be kind — becaufe they re jealous. Who 'v^oudbe woman, then'ff to figh — and fuffer And -vjijO — and ivait — for the flow-coming proffer ! Not I — fare-jselto petticoats^ and fiitching. And "jjclcome dear^ dear-^ breeches f more be'u^itching. Henceforth, ne'vj-mouldedj Til rove, love, and 'wander. And fight :> and form — and charm — like Periander. Born for this dapper age ; pert, Jbort, and clever j J/" e'er / groiv a Man — 'tis now, or never. Well! hut what condnd: fuits this tramformation'i Til copy fame fmart foul of converfation. Shoud there he war, Vd talk of fields and trenches • Shoud there be peace — I'd toafi ten favourite irenches I Shoud I be Jov'd — Gadfo! hoiv then? — ?;o matter Til borjj, as yow do — a7id look foolifh at her. And fo, ivho kriovjs, that never tneans to prove ye But Tm as good a Man, as any of ye ! Well! 'tis a charming frolic k — and Til do't : Sirs ! — have I your confent ? — What fay ye to't ? Tet hold — Perhaps they'll dread a rival beau : / may be 'what I fccm, for aught they knovj. Luzdies ! farcwel — I Jhoud be loth to leave ye, Cou'd an incrcnfc of pretty fellows grieve ye : Each, like mvlelt, devoted, ne'er to harm ye, And full as fir, 7io doubt, to fervc and charm ye. The Perfons reprefented. EuRYDicE, Queen of Corinth. Mrs. Porter. Melissa, her Confidente. ii/ry. Butler. LeoNidas, a Nobleman, fecret- ly in the Queen's intereft. ^ ^'- Bridgwater. Procles, Tyrant of 'Epdanrus., -y in poiTeffion of the Crown of^Mr. Marshall. Corinth. 3 Medon, his Favourite. Mr. W. Mills. Periander, King of Corinth. Mr. Mills. PoLYDORE, his Son. Mr. Hallam. Ariston. J^r. Corey. Officers^ Guards-, Attendants. The SCENE, Corinth. E U R Y D I C E. A TRAGEDY- ACT I. SCENE I. EuRYDiCE, Melissa. EURYDICE. YE heavenly Powers ! What means this dreadful war of fca and sky ! Melissa. Dreadful indeed. It rofc not by degrees, But all at once, a tempeft wild and loud. EURYDICK. I Icar 1 from the wintry north how keen it howls Tliro' liicfc lojic towers that rock with every blaft, Each moment rhreatning ruinc on our heads. But fee— rtand here, and caft thy eyes below B O'er 2 EURYDICE. O'er the broad ocean to the diftant sky. See what confufion fills the raving deep ! What mountain-waves arife ! — 'Tis terrible. And fuiting to the horrors of my fate, The deep defpair that defolates my foul. Melissa. Ha ! look, behold, due weft where yonder rocks O'erhang the beating tides O fight of woe ! Four goodly fliips, abandon'd to the ftorm, Drive blindly with the billows ; their drench'd fails Stript oflf^ and whirl'd before the rending wind. EURYDICE. Aflift them, all good Powers ! The ftorm is high. And the flood perilous. Look ! now they climb a fearful fteep, and hang On the big furge that mixes with the clouds. Save me ! it burfts, and headlong down they reel Into the yawning gulph They cannot fcape. A fea rowls o'er the foremoft. Melissa. Ah ! fhe ftrikes On yonder wave-worn clifF. The fatal fhock Has doubtlels fhiver'd her ftrong fide. She finks So fwiftly down, that fcarce the ftraining eye Can trace her talleft maft. Where is fhe now ! Hid in the wild abyfs, vi'^ith all her crew> All loft for ever ! EURYDICE. Turn we from the fight, Too difmal for a woman's eye to bear. Ill-fated men ! whom, knowing not, I mourn ,• Whence, or what may they be ? Even now, perhaps. In fome far-diftant land, a faithful wife, Or E U R Y D I C E. Or tender parent, oft-ers vows to heaven For their return ^ and fondly numbers up The lingring months of abfcnce. Fruirlcli love ! They never more fliall meet ! By my own ills Severely taught, I pity them ; yet think Their fate, all full of horror as it fecms. Is rather to be envy'd. They arc now Beyond the hand of Fate, at reft for ever ! While I, Melissa — Melissa. Ah, EURYDICE, My royal Millrefs, rather think the Gods Would teach you, by this fight of mournful ruine. Patience and gender thought. When others too Are miferable, not to know the worft Is fomc degree of blifs. EuRYDICE. Melissa, no." I tell thee, no ill fate, no face of death Can be {o dreadful as a life like mine. Call to thy thoughts what I have been j how great, How happy in a husband, and a fbn The rifing boall of Greece. Behold me now Call down to loweft infamy j the Have, The fport of a foul Tyrant, who betray'd mc, And would dcftroy my honour. — Gracious heaven ! And fhall this bold offender, who has broke All bonds of holy faith, yet bids his foul Rejoycc and take her eafcj lliall he long triumph Here in the throne of Corinth, while its lord, The injur'd Periander, roams a fugitive. Far, far from bliis and mc ! B 2 Melissa- 4 EURYDIGE, Melissa. Thefe rears, my Queen, Thefe faithful tears, which fympathy of forrov/ Drav/s from my eyes, fpeak the fad fhare I take In all your mighty ills. EURYDICE. Say now, Melissa, Is there among the daughters of Afflidion One fo forlorn as poor Eurydice? A prifoner here, fubje6ted to the power Of impious Procles, daily doom'd to hear, O deadly infult! his detefted love. . What ill can equal this } Why did I truft The brutal Tyrant ? Melissa. See, his Minion's here. G(OQ0^QQg) 0aOQ 0^QQ(^Q Q'S>0 QO>Q SCENE II. Eurydice, Melissa, Medon. Me DON. Hail, beauteous Queen ! By me, the royal Procles With lowly fervice bends him to your charms : Bids fmiling health, and gentle peace of mind Light up your morn, and make your evening fair. This, with the tendereft vows — Eurydice. Canll thou inform me Of thofe unhappy tjien, whom I but now Saw perifh on this coaft? Medon. E U R Y D I C E. 5 Medon. Not who they are; But what their fate, thefe eyes with dread beheld. The King too, from the morning s chafe return'd. At this fad fight fpur'd on with all his train To fave, if poflibk, whom the wild fea Cafts forth upon the land. But firft his love. That counts each moment's abfence from your eyes An age of lingring torment, bade me fly Widi health and greeting to the matchlefs fair. That holds his foul enflav'd. EURYDICE. Then bear him back. From her whom he has wrong'd, betray'd and ruin'd. Horror and loathing, unrelenting fcorn. And all a woman's hate, in juft return For his detefled love. The tyrant coward ! To crulh the fallen and hclplefs ! to embitter The pangs, the miferies, himfelf has caus'd With gall of mockery! Medon. Your pardon, Madam, If I, tlie humbled of your Haves, prcfumc To place before your eyes in faithful profpc<5t That mournful period, full of dread and danger. Which late you faw. Behold then your falfc fubjcdtSj Wantonly mad and fpurning every tye Of fwom obedience, mi>:'d in one bold treafon, Threaming and univerfal : your loft husband Abfcnt, involv'd in unfuccef^ful war : }iis troops averfe and mutinous. From them Bold fadion with contagious fv/ifcnefs fpread To Corinth too ^ where the wild herd arrous'd Infulrcd you, and drove you to this Fprtrcls. Say 6 E U R Y D I G E, Say where was then your hope, when meagre Famine Join'd his devouring ravage ^ and your eyes Saw daily, hourly perifli thofe poor few Whofe faith had kept them yours? EURYDICE. O would to heaven I then had perifh'd too ! Medon. Such was your Itate, Loft even to hope, when generous Procles flew. Impatient to your aid, difpers'd and quell'd The general treafon. May I dare to urge Thefe fervices ? But what are thefe ? His throne) His heart is yours : he lays them at your feet : He bids you reign in both. EuRYDICE.' Thou bafe of heart ! To flaves like thee, who flatter and inflame Their prince's crimes, are owing half the plagues That curfe mankind. Has not thy cruel Mailer, Whofe guilt this fhameful praife of thine brings home On thy own foul, fay, has not he ufurp'd. With perfidy avow'd, the very crown He fwore to fave > And I too — thy bold infult Shews I indeed am wretched. But away. 'Tis bafe to parle with thee, the fycophant Who leads him on from guilt to guilt, and fwears He grows a God by finning. SCENE E U R Y D I C E. 7 SCENE III. EuRYDiCE, Melissa. Melissa. Ah, my Queen, My heart forebodes fome fatal confcqucncc Will grow of this. EURYDICE. Why let it come, Melissa. I merit all that fortune can inflidt, For trufting tl'us betrayer, this curft Procles. Melissa. Alas, what could you do ? EURYDTCE. I fhould have dy'd. He was the known and mortal foe of Corinth. Melissa. Yet his fair-feeming; might have won belief From doubting Age, or wary Policy. By frequent, urgent mcfifage he conjur'd you To fave yourfelf. With open honour own'd His anricnt enmity ; but, by each Power Celeftial and infernal, fwore 'twas paft. Nay more, that as a king and as a man, Juft indignation at your impious fubje6ls. And pity of your fate, had touch'd his heart. EURYDICE. But Fame had fpoke him faithlcfs, bold, ambitious. No i 'twas the coward woman in my foul, Th' inglorious fear of dying, that betray'd Mv g EURYDICE. My vertue into the Deceiver's power. For this my heart, each confcious hour upbraids me> As faithlefs to my truft, weak, and unworthy Even of the bafe precarious life I hold. For this, O crown of mifery ! I'm doom'd Daily to hear the Tyrant's impious pallionj His horrid vows and oaths. Melissa. That way indeed I dread to turn my thoughts. A foul fo brutal. And flown with nightly infolence and wine. What may he not attempt ? EURYDICE. O curie ! to know That I am in his power, and yet compell'd To fufFer hated life ! — for can I die Unheard, unjuftify'd j while yet perhaps Th' unhappy Pertander thinks too hardly Of my late error .? — King of gods and men ! Whofe univerfal eye beholds each thought Moffc fecret in the foul, give me to clear My faith to himj I ask of heaven no more For my pall miferies. Melissa. What fhouts are tliefe ? [Jook'mg out. Ah me ! th' inhuman triumph of the croud. The hard-foul'd many, who have watch'd the ftorm For driving wrecks, the fpoils of periOi'd wretches. EURYDICE. Unfeeling beafts of prey ! — Methinks the ftorm Is almoft overblown. The waves fubfide. And fall their fiercer roarings. But alas ! Of all the four, not one remaining fail Is to be feen around. 2 Melissa- E U R Y D I C E. 9 Melissa. Either my eyes Deceive me, or the good Leonidas Moves towards us. EURYDICK. ^ 'Tis he : and on his brow Sits fome atHiiling thought. Ha ! whence is this ? VVhat mean theil- i'ccret lliiverings, this dark horror Of ibme approaching ill .^ S GENE IV. EuRYDicE, Melissa, Leonidas. Leomidas. Forgive me. Madam, That I appear before you to impart A mournful racilagc : bu: by Procles' order — EURYDICE. Whatever proceeds from liim, Leonidas, Mull needs be fatal to me. But fay on. No form of ruine is fo dreadful now, As being in his power. Leonidas. Unhappy Queen ! Your fate might m.elt the hardpil breaft, and teach Even Cruelry's remorfclcfs eye to weep. How ftiall I fpeak the reft ? eurydice. Leonidas! What is this fatal tale t(K) fad for utterance? I cannot bear fufpcnfc, that word of tortures— Is Periander (afc.- C Leonidas. ^ 10 E U R Y D I C E. Leonidas. Tliis ruinous ftorm, Whofe fudden outrage— EURYDICE. Ha ! what iliips were thefc. Say, fpcakj that funk but now before our eyes In light of fliore? Leonidas. The Very fleet defign'4 To refcue you j to free repenting Cormth From this betrayer, this detefted Procles. The King was there embark'd. EURYDICE. Then all is loft J Melissa. Ah heaven 1 flie faints. Leonidas. Behold, ye Gods ! this fight. I Remember the curft Author of this ruine. My eyes, my foul's in tears to fee her thus. EURYDICE. O Periander ! my much-injur'd Lord ! Would I had dy'd for thee — Ah ! gentle maid, Was it then he, my husband, whom thefe eyes Saw perifh in the ftorm ! whofe fate I wept, Nor knew that all the cruel wreck was minis J Melissa. pLJnhappy day ! EURYDICE. Undone Eurtdice \ But I will die— I fhould have dy'd before AVhen my mean cowardice, my dread of death, Betray'd E U R Y D I C E. II Betray 'd me to falfe Procles. I had then Dy'd innocent : I had not then dcfcrv'd A ruin'd husband's curfc. — O thought of horror ! Perhaps his iareft breath, even in the hour Of dreadful fate, charg'd me with all his wrongs. His life and honour loll ! perhaps expir'd In imprecations on me ! Melissa. Oh, for pity, Forbear thefe fatal thoughts. They but inflame The rage of real ills, and wound you deeper. Leonidas. W'ould tears, my gracious Miilrefs, aught avail us> Merhinks thefe aged eyes could number drops With falling clouds, or the perpetual ftrcam. But while we mourn, our enemy rejoyces. And founds his cruel triumph loud to heaven : Hearc-ftabbing thought! Then ccafe we tears and fighs, That aid for trivial ills. Call we inftead Heaven's (lumbering juflice down, and loud invoke The Powers of vengeance to our aid. Who knows But fome more h^py hour remains — EURYDICE. O no. There h no happy hour in ftore for me. AU, all are part: and gone. Even Hope himfclf. The wretche's lateft friend, is fled for ever. Death and the grave are now my only refuge: There even my woes may reft. Leonidas. And who will then Befriend your orphan-fon? What eye will pityj What aiding hand rear his fair-fpringing youth, C 2 And IS. E U R Y D I C E. And flicker him from want, from v/oe ? Oh none. Think then you hear this darling of your foul, Your PoLYDORE, Call loud on you to live. To live for him, and by your guardian care Supply a father's loft. EURYDICE- Unh^,pp7 boy ! ^ Too foon a^-as ! acquainted widi ill fortune. And does he live ? LeoN'-^a3. Thofe few that fcap'd the ftorm Gave me to hope he fail'd not Vv^ith the fleet. But for this Procles, Madam, this betrayer i If I have bow'd me to his impious will, Tho' with that flrong abhorrence Nature feels At what (he holds moft mortal, 'twas to turn Againft the traitor his own treacherous arts. And ruin him more furely. This may be. Sad Corinth looks with horror on the hand That fcourges her each hour with whips of fcorpions. She w.iits but fome fair chance, at once to rife And drive him from her throne. Melissa. Thefe trumpets fpeak His near approach. EURYDICE. Father of human kind ! Eternal Juftice ! hear thefe guilty founds ! Behold this Tyrant's revel ! while a King, Thy great refemblance, floats a cold pale corfe ^ Or on the naked beach caft vilely out, Unknown, unhonour'd lies. Leonidas, By / E U R Y D I C E. 1 3 By all my gricfj" i beg thee, fcarch thefc Hiores, Eacli clirf and cavern where the wild wave beats. For my lov'd Lor.^, and to ihefe widow'd crms Give back hL> dear remaini. Bul Procles comes. SCENE V, Procles, Medon, Leonidas, Attendant i. Procles. Hail glorious day ! aulpicious fortune hail ! From this triumphant hour my future life Runs fair and fmiling on, no cloud of ill To fhadc its brightnefs. MedoN, was it not A wondcrous chance ? Medom. Beyond our hope, my Lord- Yet tho' the danger's o'er, with awe and trembling I ftill look back to the dread precipice Where late you ftood ! . Procles. 'Tis true, he had well nigh Surpriz"d me unprovided : but th' attempt Is pcrifli'd with its author. From on high Heaven arm'd his winds and fcas to fight for me: And vicftory is mine without my care, Almofl without my knowledge. Yes the Gol^, The Gods themfclves efpoufe my happy caufc ! For this, let flowery garlands wreathe their flirines j Let hecatombs before their altars bleed. And triumph reign thro' Corinth. \^Attcvdaiits 'Withdraw. h the Queen Informed of all, Leonidas? Leokidas. \ i+ E U R Y D I C E. Leonidas. She is. PROCLES. And fiie receiv'd the news — Leonidas. With fad furprifc. And many tears, my Lord. PROCLES. Juft the fond fex. Such their vain grief,- a moment's paffing fl:orm> Then all is calm. Be it thy farther care, As the receding flood forfakes the fhore, -To make flrid fearch thro' all this coaft around For Periander's Corpfe. I would methinks A while indulge my eyes^ a while perufe The features of a rival once fo fam'd, So terrible in arms j whofe partial fortune Soar'd high above, and ever thwarted mine In all the dearer aims that fwell my thought. Love and ambition. Leonidas. Mark this, righteous heaven 1 SCENE VI. Procles, Medon, Medon. At length, Sir, all the Gods declare for you. And fortune is your own. Your native realm. Fair EpUauru^, peaceful and refign'd. Acknowledges her Lord. Your rival's fate Confirms his kingdom yourSi ProcLes. E U R Y D I G E. 15 PROCLES. Yet r am ftUl Unblefl amidft tliis flmv of profpc-ous foicune. Not all that charms Ambition's iliorelefs wilh. Empire and kneeling homage, can bellow The bcncr joy I long for. Mi: DON. Ah, my Prince, .Forget, or fcom that proud ill-natur'd fair one. Procles. ImpoiTible. By heaven my foul can form No wifh, no thought but her. I tell thee, Medojj, With blufhes tell thee, this proud charmer reigns Unbounded o'er my reafon. I have try'd Each fliape, each art of varied love to win her ; Alternate prayers and threats, the foothing skill Of paflionatc fincerity, the fire Of rapturous vows : but all thefe arts were vain. Her rooted hate is not to be remov'd. And 'twas my foul's firft aim, the towering point Of all my willies, to prevail in this ,• To triumph o'er my rival too in love. That had been great revenge ! but baffled here, I'm difappointed flill. ^ Medon. Believe me. Sir, When once the fit of wilfulnefs is o'er, The burft of tears difcharg'd, flic'll quickly foftcn, Stoop to your wifhcs, and forget a husband Who is no more. Proci.es. Perdition on hii name I I dread his memory as my rival llill. But if I have not won her to be muie, Ac 16 E U R Y D I C E. At leaft the hated husband reap'd no joy From her fantaftic honour. Stung to madnefs For ill-requited love, I darkly fpread Surmizes of her truth. He thought her falfe : And, as he doated on her, the dire tale Was poiion to his quiet. Jealoufy, la all its horrors, muft have feiz'd his foul- I triumph'd there ! Me DON. 'Twas exquifite revenge I too, my Lord, who live but for your pleafure. Your ever-faithful flave, I too combin'd To aid your vengeance. You can ftill remember When in a dungeon's depth Ariston lay, Ariston, Periander's fadious friend. With looks of feeming pity I oft mourn'd His hard imprifonment, complain'd of you. Nay curs'd your cruelty ^ till I had brought His unfufpedling honefty to credit My fiction of the Queen. I told him then. With wcll-diilembled hatred of her crime. Embittering every circumftance, that iTie, Forgetful of her better fame, had heard Your fecret paffion, and with equal ardor Returned its warmth. Nay that ihe often urg'd you To wreak your rage on him, the hated friend Of Periander, Having thus alarm'd him. After long paufe T let him-fcape at laft To find his mailer out. Procles. I thank thee, Medon. But this avails not much. My foul burns in me With furious longings to fubdue that woman ; To bend her pride of vertue to my paffion. I E U R Y D I C E. 17 t fancy, in her arms, tranfcendanr joys, A heaven of higher blifi, not to be found In unrefirting Beauty, woo'd and won At idle leifure. Yet once more I mean To try the fortune of my willies with her : And if I am repuls'd, away at once All httle arts of love. Me DOM, Mean while, the banquet, Which Plcafure's curious hand hath furnifh'd out With fplendid choice, awaits you, and invites To laughing thought and triumph. There the God, Th' infpiring God of wine, with rofe-buds crown'd, Mirth in his look, and at his iide the band Of h'ttle playful Loves, fills high the bowl. And bids it flow unbounded. Mufic too Joins her enchanting voice, and wooes the foul With all her powerful skill of moving ftrains : Till the gay hour is quite difiTolv'd in blifs. In ecftacy of revel, all-unknown To Ican-look'd Temperance, and his pcevifli train. Procles. Come on then, Medon. Life is vainly fliort,' A ver)' dream of being : and when death Has quench'd this finer flame that moves the heart Beyond is all oblivion, and wafte night That knows no following dawn, where we Hiall be As we had never been. The Prefcnt then Is only ours : and Hiall we let it pals, Untafted, unenjoy'd ? No ; let us on. Hail wc the riling fhade: and now while night Leads on the fecrct hour of free delight. With wanton gaycty^ in naked ftatc. Let Mufic, Mirth, and Love around us wait. The End of the Firjl A6t. D ACT 1$ E U R Y D I CE. ACT II. SCENE I. 'The fcene a rocky coajl^ terminated by a view of the ocean* Periander alone, BY the pale glimmering of the falling moon. Amid the broken windings of thefe rocks I wander on forlorn, and find no place To truft my head, or reft my weary fteps. Horror purfues me clofe. In each low blaft. And murmur of the main, methinks I hear The murderous fpies of Procles at my heels. Thou mournful Queen of heaven ! and ye dread Gods .' Who rule the fearful fecrefy of night j Behold me here, the fport of human chance, A namelefs wretch, a ruine hardly fav'd From the devouring deep. There my laft hopes. My great revenge lies buried. — Is there more.^ Away, away ; a Traitor fills my throne. Triumphant in his crimes : and I the while Roam here a midnight fugitive. Yet this. All this I could have borne. He was my foe, The jealous rival of my power — But thou. In whom my foul had treafur'd up her heaven, Friend- E U R Y D I C E. 19 Friendfhip, and faith, and love, Eurydice ! Thou to bcuay me ! [letttTtg himfelf fall againji the rock. Ha ! by the moon's lad beam, I can defcry The towers that hold this autlior of my fliame — Nay, Procles too, perhaps — and may not he. Even now — confuiion ! death ! he may, he does Invade my bed — O hell ! (he fmiles to hear The ftory of my fate — And now they give A loofe to impious Joys. — All-feeing Powers! And does your vengeance flumber ? Are your bolts Referv'd for me alone r — Ha ! — yet 'tis jull. Confcience, that in the day of fortune's favour. Securely flept, now roufes into ftrong And dread convidion of her crime. " I broke The facred oath fworn to a dying father. To free my country from her chains. My foul Shakes, as I roll this thouglit. O Providence Ij Awfully juft, tho' Guilt may fhut her eye, Thine ever wakes to mark, to trace, to punifh ! SCENE II. Periander, Leonidas. Leonidas. This way a diftant found alarm'd my ear. Broken it fecm'd to be ; the voice of mourning. And deep diftrcfs. Methought it rofe juft here, From rhcfe deaf-founding cliffs. But all is ft ill ! Save the hoarfe deep yet working from the ftorm- D 2 Some 20 E U R Y D I C E: ~ Some Power diredt my fteps where I may find. By this faint moon-light, my lov'd Matter's corpfe. To fave his facred reliques from the rage Of brutifli tyranny.— Ha! what art thou? A man, or fear-form'd Shadow of the night ? Periander, Leonid AS ! Leonidas. The fame. But (peak again. Periander. tiEONlDAS ! Leonidas. Ha ! can it be, ye Powers ! ]VTy royal Lord ? Periander coming forward. A wretch that has no name.' Leonidas. Oh all ye Gods ! may I believe my fenfes ? 'Tis he ! my Prince !— Juft heaven to thee I kneel. And thus adore thy gracious providence. 'Tis moft amaiing ! Periander. Rife, Leonidas. I am beneath thy care, Thou feeft me here The laft of men, caft off by all good Powers ^ Sav'd from the deep to be more loft on fliore. Leonidas. My king and mafter, tho* my heart bleeds in pie With all your mighty ills, I muft again Blefs that good heaven wjiofe providence has fav'd you. Tis great ! 'ti$ wpnderous all ! But how? oh how I ' Pava E U R Y D I C E. 21 Have you cfcap'd the Tyrant's jealous fearch ? His guards with ftri(ft furvey rang'd every clif!^ And hollow of thefe rocks, Periander. I'll tell thee then. We were in fight of Corinth^ when at once Broad darknefs hid the sky : at once the winds Roar'd with mad blufter o'er us, and the feas In rowling mountains rofe. A ftorm fo fierce. So big with ruine, bafilcd our beft skill. Pefpair ftruck every heart. The fhip ran round \n giddy whirls, and bulg'd on fome hid rock. O difmal moment ! ftill methinks I hear The general, dying fcream of multitudes Juft drowning in th' abyfs. How poor a tiling Is a King then, Leon id as ! I grafp'd A floating wreck, the big fea roaring round me. And burfting o'er my head j but, bury'd deep Beneath the whelming tide, at once I loll The light of heaven and life. A wave it fcems Lodg'd me within a cavern's fecret depth. Near yon tall mountain. Leonidas. Miracle of fate \ Sure God's immediate hand condudlcd it. Severely merciful. — How fiiall I tell VVhat pangs, what agonies of foul I felt At fight of your fdd wreck ?— But, Sir, the Prince, What of his fate } Periander. I know not what to think : But to be mine, it fccms, is lo be wretched, Half %z E U R y D I C E. Half of my fleet, yet riding in the port, I left to his command, but with ftrid charge To fail a few hours after. 'Twere in vain To tell thee now the reafon of my order. This florm, I fear, may have furpriz'd him too. Unhappy boy! • Leonid AS. Your own efcape, my Lord, So fiill of wonder, and beyond all hope. Inclines me to ftrong faith that heaven is ftill Concern'd for your affairs. — But to behold you. So late the firft and happieft of mankind. Alone and wandering here at the dead hour ; No roof, but heaven's high cope to fhelter you j No couch, but this unhofpitable earth To reft your brine-drench'd limbs — it kills my heart, Curfe on the Tyrant ! Periander. Prithee think me not So poorly foul'd to ftoop beneath the preflure Of Fortune's hand. That were to merit it- But there is ftill behind — O death to honour ! One crufhing blow that lays me low indeed ! That finks me in the duft ! Leonidas. What do I hear! Your words amaze me. Periander. How, Leonidas ! Surely thou art no ftranger to my thought. Procles — EuRYDicE— Wilt thou not fpeak To fave my fhame. Say, tell pie what i;hou know'ft Of that bad woman, LEONIDAS E U R V D I C E. aj LeoNidas. With fuch watchful care The Tyrant's trufted fpies obferve her fteps. That till this fatal evening, when by order Of Procles, I inform'd her of your death, I have not feen her once. Periander. Juft what I fear'd That guilty fecrefy was well contriv'd To<€wer crimes too foul for honefl: eyes, And heaven's fair light to fee. None, none but pRocLE5 Ceuld gain admittance : and to him my gates, My fortreli, nay ray bed it felf was open 1 Leonid AS. O WTon Procles. No. By the joys That fwell my foaring thought, you (liall not fcape me." Revenge and love combine to crown this night With matchlefj blifs. EURYDICE. Inhuman! haft thou eyes? Haft thou a heart ? and cannot all this wreck Of ruin d majcfty, ruin'd by thee, Move one relenting thought, and wake thy pity ? F Ut 34 E U R Y D I C E. He feels not what I fay: repeated crimes Have favag'd his remorfeleis foul. — Hear then. Almighty Jove ! behold, and judge the caufe Of Periander ! number all his wrongs In plagues, in horrors— Procles. Ha ! by hell, this raving But wings his fate. Since thy fond folly weds thee To ruine with this rival, know he dies j This very night he dies. Thro' him I mean To wound thy heart indeed. Thou fhalt behold him When the rack ftretches ftrong his rending joints, Burfts all his veins, and hunts the flying foul Thro' every limb. Then, when convuliive agony Grins hideous in his face, mangled and bleeding. In the lail throes of death, thou fhalt behold, him. EURYDICE, It is not to be borne ! My life dies in me At the deftroying thought— Ah ftay thee, Procles— Affift me, pitying heaven! — See then, behold me Thus proftrate at thy feet. If thou haft not Renounc'd all manhood, feeling, and remorfe;> Spare me his lifej fave only that: all elfe. His crown, his throne be thine. Procles. Off, let me go. Thy words are loft in air. EURYDICE. Nay hear me, Procles^ As is thy hope in heaven's forgiving goodnefs, Shut not thy heart againft the cry of mifeiy. Banifli us any whither j drive us out I'o fhame, want^ beggary, to every woe That E U R Y D I C E. 35 That mod cmbirters life — I yet will blefs thcc, Forget my crying wrongs, and own thee merciful, c ProclES afuie^ ajiir- fat'p7:g. .1^ This woman fools my ra^ic— but lo refolve. No — yes : it lliall be lb, ^Rife tfi;'h) nn^ !e;ro Thy triumph o'er nn' Pial. Yes he (hall live. This Periander ,vhom I deadly hire. Nay more, he fliall be free. ^ Leonidas, With ilich fafc condud as thvleif flialtname. Attends him to our kingdom'ii farthcH limit. This, in the fight, of Jove the fupremc Lord, I fwear to do^ fo thou at la!l confent To meet my love — Ha! what! a|id doft thou frown? Weigh well what I propofe j for on my foul. His life, or death, awaits thy next refolve. SCENE IX. EuRYDicE, Melissa. EURYDICE. Then kill me firfl— He's gone ! and now, ye Gods, Is there among the wretched one fo loft, So curft as I ? O fcene of matchlefs woes ! O Perian'der ! wert thou favd for this? Ye holy Powers in heaven ! to whom belongs The fate of vertue, and redrcfs of wrongs, AfTjft, infpire me how to fave his life ; Or to th" unhappy husband join the wife. The End of the Second AtJ. F 2 ACT ^6 E U R Y D I C E. ACT III, SCENE I, EuRYDicE, Melissa, Melissa. THIS chearlefs morning rifes flow and fad. The frowning heavens are black with ftormy clouds j And, o'er the deep, a hovering night of fogs Lies dark and motionlefs. EURYDICE. That mournful face Of nature is lefs gloomy than my foul : All there is darknefs and difmay. Ah me! Was ever night, Melissa, like the lafl: ? A night of many terrors, many deaths ! How has my foul out-liv'd it? But, great Gods? Can mortal ftrength, can human vertue bear What Periander feels? In one day's courfe Wrec^'d, made a captive, funk into a dungeon. To die or live as his curft foe decrees ! Diflradlion's in the thought. And what can I To f^ve his facred life ? lifter a paufe. Ha! is it heaven That darts this fudden light into my foul ? This giimpfe of dawning hope ?— It fliall be try'd. Yes, yes, ye Powers ! my life and fame fhail both Be offer'd up to fave his dearer life, Melissa. Alasj what mean you. Madam ^ EURYDICE. Mean, Meliss.a? Tq do a noble juftice on myfelf. E U R Y D I C E. 37 A deed for which, in nations yet unborn, Chafte wives and matrons fhall renown my name. I have wrong'd my husband greatly, and I mean Ample atonement of my guilty weaknefs. Go then, Melissa Melissa. Whither rauft I go ? I tremble at your words. EURYDICE. Yet it fticks here. This fatal purpofc. Can I leave behind me A doubtful name, infulted, wounded, torn By cruel Calumny ? I can^ I dare Throw off the woman, and be deaf to all Thofe nicer female fears that call fo loud. Importunate, and urging me to live Till I may clear my truth from all furmize." Go then, and in my name — 'Tis worfc tlian death To utter it — but go, inform the Tyrant, So Periander lives, and is fet free, I yield me to his wifh. Melissa. Forbid it heaven ! Eurydice. TTnou fiithful vcrtuous maid ! Know then my laft, My fix'd refolve. By this 1 mean to amufe His brutal hopes, and fave me from his violence. Till Periander is beyond his reach. Then, if he ftill dare urge his impious purpofe, A dagger fcts mc free. This arm at laft Shall do me right on him, myfclf, or both. SCENE 92302 ^g E U R Y D I C E: SCENE II. EURYDICE, LeONIDAS. eurydice. Leonidas 1 Leonidas. Ah Madam! EURYDICE. Dare I ask Where PeR-IANder is — ah where indeed? Chain'd in a dungeon's airlefj depth, amid Foul damps, and loneiome darknefs! Oh that thought Draws blood from my torn heart. Leonidas. Juftice divine! In thy great day of viutaiionj mark This man of blood. O let hiia feel the hand He dares to disbelieve. To all his counfels Send forth, in thy Jult wraJi, that fatal Spirit Of error and illuiion, that foreruns The fall bf guilty kings. Ere morning-dawn, Soft to the difmal dungeon's mouth I ftole, Where, by the glimmerings of a dying lamp I faw.my great unhappy Mailer laid On the cold earth along — ' EtJRYDICE. O hide the fad The fatal image from me. The dire thought Will run me into madnefs. Leonidas. Yet even there, Where nale Difmay, the prifoner's drear affociate, Sits E U R Y D I C E: J9 Sits ever fad and flcepleC;, he could reft. Superior to the cruel fate that crufh'd him, He flcpt as deep ^ Indolence on down. Thcfe eyes beheld it : and I would not break His wilVd rcpofe, but fix'd in filent wonder, Stood weeping o'er the .fight. EuRYDieE. All nie S my life Flows out at evciy word : What's to be done ? Leonidas. Madam, I fet my all at ftake for him. Old as I am, and broken with the load Of threefccie years, what is a Hfe like mine. But as it may be uferul to my Maftcr ? Already the fad people know his fate : And I, by faithful hands, will try to rouie Their pity firft, and next their rage. No hour. No moment fliall be loft. EURYDICE. Thou good old man! What words can fpeak thy worth ? Fair loyalty And faith inviolate, which feem'd quite loft Among mankind; live in thy vertuous bofom. Leonidas. No more of this, my Queen. Might I but fee This haughty Tyrant, in fome guilty hour Of infolen''c and riot, when his pride Plume: all her vaineft wiflies, hurfd at once To ruine unforefeen j my labours then. My ferviccs v/cre greatly over-paid. EuRVDici:. Heaven hear thy pious wilTi. I too the while. To {avc my huvbands life, have been contriving — Leonidas. 4© E U R Y D I G E- Leonidas. Madam, the Tyrant — I will find another More favourable moment* SCENE III. Procles, Medon, Leonidas* PROCLES. Hold thy felf Prepar'd, LeoNidas: I muft employ thee In an affair of weight. [Leonidas nvithdrawii Methinks I droop With more than wonted heavinefs of heart. But I will fhake it off, and to the winds Give every thought of care. 'Tis only fondnefs. And fancy fick with hope. Eurydice Bends to my wifhes : and, in her, I hope That heaven imagin'd, that fole blifs, which yet My fearch could never meet. Medon, It moves my wonder To fee your love thus wedded to one bofom : While all around bright crouds of rival beauties Praftife each art of charming, look, and talk. And live for you alone. Procles. Alas, my friend. Poor is the triumph over hearts like thefe : This hour they pleafes us, and the next they pall. But to fubdue the pride that fcorns to yield ; To fill th' unwillino; breaft with fighs and longings. With all the loft diftraction of fond love, Even E U R Y D I C E. 41 Even while it ftrivcs againft th' invading victor. And wonders at the change ; that, that is conqucft ! The plume of plfafarc •' and from her alone A glory to be won. Me DON. Well, may you find In this proud fair one that enchants you thus, Wha te'er Imagination's fondell eye Beholds in rapturous vifionj or young Love In all his wantonnefs of power can give. But yet, forgive your fervant's forward zeal, Mean you to keep the promife you have made her ? Procles. I do. Medon. How Sir! what fet her husband free? Procles. mean no lefs. Medon. Your pardon. Sir : 'tis well. But have you calmly weigh'd in rcafon's fcale The certain confcqucnce ? Set free your rival ! A foul made furious with his mighty wrongs i Boiling with hate, rage, jealoufy, revenge j With the full-gathcr'd ftorm of deadly paflions ! The Gods forbid it. Sir— And all to dry A froward woman's tears! Procles. No, no, my friend, Nor liberty nor life (hall long be his : I never meant him cither •■, but my fairh Is paG'd to fct him free. By that alone The haughty Queen was overcome : and I Will keep th' illulive promife to her car, •But break it to her hope. G Medon. 42 E U R Y D 1 C E. Medon. ii As how, my Lord ? Procles. Such inbred enmity my foul bears his As Nature does to ruine j to the grave, Where the whole man defcends to rife no more. Hear then what I intend. Thou know'ft the fortrefs, That guards our frontier on the Theban fide. That way our foe muft pafs ^ but thou llialt firft Poll thither on the fpur with wary fpeed : And with a chofen band, drawn from the fort, Way-lay him on the farther hill, clofe couch'd In the deep covert of thofe pendant woods, That fiiade tlie path below. Medon. Conclude it done. Sleep fiiall not know my eyes, till his are clos'd In everlafting night. As to his prifon I waited him, he call'd me minion, flave, A traitor's parafite, the bale-foul'd minifter Of his loofe pleafures : and I will repay him. For each opprobrious name, a mortal ftab. Yes, he Ihall feel his fate. Infult and taunt. Embittering every blow, Ihall mock his pangs. And give him fevenfold death. Procles. So, now to try Tliis Periander thoroughly. Go, MedoNj Command him hither. SCENE E U R Y D I C E. 45 SCENE IV. Procles alone. • No. I cannot bear His laft night'? haughty look and untara'd fpirit. I: baffles my revenge, and I ilill mifs My noblcll triumph; for I meant to bend him To bale dcjedion, and to feaft my fcorii With his pale cheek and fuppiicating eye. But I will hunt this pride thro' each recels, Each clofcr folding of the foul, till I Have funk him to my wiili. — -Thou Jealoufyl Almight)' tyrant of the human mind, W^ho canll at will unfcttle the calm brain, crtum the featcd heart, and fluke the man Thro' all his frame with tempeft and diftradtion ; Rife to my prefent aid: call up thy Powers, Thy furious fears, thy blafts of dreadful paflion. Thy whips, fnakes, mortal ftings, thy hoft of horrors j Roufe thy whole war againft him, and complean My purpos'd vengeance. — But he comes to prove it. SCENE V. Periander, Procles, Medon, Guards. ProCLES advaiicing. 1 have to talk with thee. Thy life, thou know'ft, Depends upon my will — Pkriander. And therefore I Am weary of the load. But let the Gods, G 2 Who 44 E U R Y D I C E. Who thus difpenfe our fates, account for them. And vindicate their juftice. Procles. Be more calm. The noble mind meets every chance of fortune. Unruffled and ferene. I, tho' thy foe. Perhaps may mean thee good. Periander. Such good the Tygcr, Hungry for death and flaughter, means his prey. But know my foul receives with equal fcorn Thy hate and hollow love. I am not fallen • By thy fuperior fword, or nobler d?ed : It was the guilt of fate ! Procles. Call we it fo. At leaft 'tis well thou muft of force acknowledge Thy crown, thy liberty, thy life and death, Hang on my nod. I can difpofe of all As likes me belt. Periander. Ha! doft thou boaft of that? But thou wilt never know how poor a purchafe Is power and empire gain'd for vertue loft. Procles. And yet, methinks, I read the difference plain In ihee and me. Thy vertue and thefe bonds I weigh in equal fcale againft the crown And fceptre of fair Corinth : and while thefe. The glorious aim of each great heart that dares Beyond the narrow fphere of earth-born fpirits ; While thofe are mine, I envy not thy tribe A found, an empty name. ' PeriaNdeRc E U R Y D I C E. 45 Periander. It joys my foul To find the man, who bears me mortal hate, At war too with the Gods. 'Tis 2;rcat revenge ! Had not vain for.unc made thee blind, the thought Would chan,j;e thy purple vo the mourner's fack-cloath. What are thy glorious ads ? — Thou haft undone A woman, weak and worthlefs. — Yes, ye Powers! This heroc, this fair warrior, well deferv'd To fill my vacant feat : he won it nobly ! Diifembling, perjury, the coward's arms^ VVith thefc he fought his vertuous way to empire. Thou feeft I know thee. Procles. Doft thou preach to me The pedant-maxims of thofe fons of earth, Whom the grof; vulgar fondly tide wife ? Slaves, who to fhades and folitude condemn'd, Pine there with all-fhun'd Penury and Scorn. A monarch is above them, and takes counsel Of his unbounded will, and high ambition. That counts the world his own. I ever held thee My foe, my deadly bane : and againft fuch, Force, fraud, all arts, are lawful. I have won. And mean to wear thy crown. Thou may'ft the while Seek fome vile cell out, and grow poorly old Amid the talking tribe of moralifts. Periander. Thro' this falfe face of arrogance, I read Thy heart of real terror and difmay. Hence all thefc coward-boafts. The truly brave. Invincible to pride and fortune's flattery, Know neither fear, nor infult. — But I would nor. As thou furmizcft, dream out ufelefs life In Sloth's unadtive couch. Nay I could tell thee, That tho' I fliun thy fliamcful ways of conqucll j SiiU 4 Has been my fair purfait : ftill would I feek her In toils of war, and in the nobler field Of juftice, peace, aad mercy. PrvOCLES. My foul longs To prove thy higheft daring, and to meet thee Amid the din and peril of the battle. Thy Ufc is in thy hand : thou art no longer Our prifoner. This moment fets thee free. Periander. How !■— but thou dare'ft not — Could I find thee there. In open day, and honourable arms, Oppofing war to war, as monarchs fhould ; I would forgive thee all, my crown ufurp'd, Thefe flave-like bonds — But that fair hope is vain. The fears that haunt thy foul — Procles. Strike off his fetters. [/pMedon. Hafte, find Leonidas. Bid him prepare To guard the prifoner to our kingdom's frontier. There he fliall leave him free to chufe what courfe His fancy moft afFedts. Periander. What means all this ? Dares Guilt then be fo brav^ ? and doft thou free The man whom adt of thine fhall never win To owe thee aught but deep and deadly hate ? Procles. Go, fee my orders inflantly perform'd. [Me DON and Guards retire: Periander afide. And is it fo — I fhudder with my fears. Say, tell m'e firft to what is Periander Indebted for this freedom } Procles. E U R Y D I G E. 47 Procles. Well ic may Surprixe thy hope : 'twas what I never meant thee. But that fond woman who enllavcs my foul To all her wilhes, and ftill pirys thee, Wich idle bhndilhments extorted from mc A folcmn vow to fee thee free. Periander. Confufion ! Procles. Thus I, againft my better mind, relcafc My mortal enemy- But let it fpeak The greatnefs of my love : and what dull husband. Thro' all recorded time, e'er gave fuch proof Of matchlcfs fonJncfs ? Periander. Plc^ues ! perdition ! hell ! Damnd, damn'd adultrefs!— Villain, Have, 'tis falfe: Thou ly'il— What thee! O curfe— Procles. At laft 'tis done. SCENE VI. Periander alone. Have I then liv'd to this ? to this confufion ? My foe, the man on earth my foul moft loaths, Rejoices over mc : and Ihe — even fhe Hath join'd hi:i triumph ! — Off, away, be gone Love, manhood, reofon-^Comc, ye fiftcr-Furies! Daughters of hare and hell ! arifc, inflame My murderous purpofc; pour into my veins Your gall, your fcorpion-fellnefi, your keen horrors That fting to madnelj j till my burning vaigcance Hath 4S E U R Y D I C E. Hath her full draught of blood — [jValking -xvith a difiuryd motion. But how ! where am I ? O this poor brain ! ten thoufand fliapes of fury Are whirling there, and rcafon is no more. Him ! him \ a caitif black with every vice! Debafe herfelf to him I — the thought is hell ! Well, well — and I, how have I doated on her Whole years of fondnefs .' cheriiTi'd, pleas'd, adorn'd her With all that love can give — Yet fhe has done this ! Confufion on my folly — Ha ! fhe comes. Down, down tempeftuous foul : let me be dumb. And hide this lliamcful conflid that unmans me. SCENE VII. EURYDICE, PeRIANDER. EURYDICE a^ide He muft not know my fecret fatal purpofe, That I am fix'd to diej left his great foul Refufc a life fo dearly fav'd — And now All Powers that pity human kind affift mc In this important hour ! \to him. OPeriander — And is it thus we meet again ! PeriaNder afide. Ha! fee. She comes prepar'd. By hell, (lie weeps a lye. My rage will leap all bounds. EURYDICE. My Lord, my love, I know you look on me as on the caufe, The fatal caufe of ail your ills j too true : That guilt is mine — O would to heaven this head Had bce.i laid low in earth ere that fad hour ! Why E U R Y D I C E. 49 Why did I fhrink at mine ? why not bear All pangs, all horrors of befieging famine ? .^ Alas ! my love — But your falfe faithlefs fubjcib To what have they rcduc'd us ? Periander. Noj not they: Thou vile one, thou alone haft made me wretched. Thou ! thou ! whom I had treafur'd in ray bofom. As my life's jewel — thou haft hcap'd upon me, On this poor head, contempt and foul diihonour. EURYDICE. Jul! Gods ! what means my Lord ? Periamder. Mean! — doft thou asJc? Eurydice. Heaven ! has the Traitor then — Periander. Ha ! does that gaul thee ? Perdition 1 fhall I ftab— But what ? fhall Ihc, A woman, Ihake my foul's firm temper thus ? I will be dumb. Yet no — Yes he, thy minion. The bafc one, has rep-aid thy broken faith With equal perfidy : has loudly boafted To heaven, and earth, and me, how vile thou art. Sliame! death! diftradion! — I too am become A proverb of reproach, a tale, a word For nbbald Scorn to mock at. Eurydice afide. O dire error! Fatal miftakc ! Now am I loft indeed. But be it fo : what is my life and fame To faving hira ? Periander ajid\ See! guilt has ftruck her dumb. Eurydice. My lord, my only love, by holy faitla H I 50 E U R Y D I C E. I never was difloyal. Rags and penury, Difeafe and death, lliock not my apprehenlion Like that detefted crime — I dare no more. fly, my love ^ hafte from this fatal place, And leave me to my fate. O fave your life. While yet 'tis in your pov/er. Periander. My life ! away. And haft thou vilely barter'd for that life Thy truth, and my fair fame ? By yon bleft heaveci^ 1 could have borne all woes that Wretchednefs Groans under j age, afBidlion, pining anguifh : And borne them like a man. I could have fmil'd At fortune's keeneft rancor — But to know My felf deceiv'd in thee! there, there I fink! There manhood, reafon die! EURYDICE. O ye juft Powers ! Were ever woes like mine ? What are the whips, Rack, engines, all that murderous Cruelty Hath yet contriv'd — what are they all to this ? This infamy that kills the foul itfelf ,? Yet I will bear even this. Then here, by weeping, bleeding love I beg you. With ftreaming eyes, hafte from this fatal place. The Tyrant may recall his word ; and then — I cannot utter more. Periander. And thou can'ft weep ? Thou crocodile! Thefe falfe, thefe lying tears Are daggers here. I go— But doft thou hope Thy mean diffimulation hides thee from me ? Thou haft difhonour'd, ruin'd me i and now My fight is hateful to thee. [returning. But fay, tell me How have I merited thefe wrongs of thee } What E U R Y D I C E. 51 What was my crime ? Can all-beftovving Love Do more than mine for thee ? — When I call back The days that are no more ! Thou wert my all Of happincfs : my foul ne'er knew a joy That was not thine : my doating fondnefs luU'd Its hopes, its fears, its willics, in tliy bofom. O heaven and earth! — and yet — Eurvdice — Thou could'ft forfake me! ["j.tp/*;- Eurvdice. Oh this is too much ! Heaven knows I would have dy'd to fave thy life : Bjt we will perilli both, both die together. Thy reai-s diilradt me^ I will tell thee all. Peri.^nder. Curfe on this weaknefs. I could tear thcfc eyes From forih ihcir orbs — Thou exquifirc deceiver! Hence, left this arm lliould do a deed of iloame. And ftaiji mc with thy blood. EURYDICE. O but one moment. For mercy's fake, allow mc one fhorc moment. Periander. No. In the fight of all-beholding Jove, Here I renounce thee. What a fiave to folly. To thy curft arts has Periander liv'd! EURYDICE. O cruel! cruel! haft thou caft mc out For ever from thy heart ? By all our loves ^ By the dear pledge of our unfpottcd flames, Grant me one moment. [_kneeh. Here will I hangi grow to thy knees — Yes, fpurnmei Drag this bare bleeding bofom on the ground j Ycj, ufe mc as the vilcft Have — but hear me. Periander. Away, away. H 2 EURYDICE. sz E U R Y D I C E. EURYDICE. Then ftrike me dead at once. 'Look here, my love j I fhrink not from the blow. Periander. That were poor vengeance. No ; I meditate A nobler facrifice — \_alarm of trumpets. Ha! what is this ? [alarm again. Th' alarm is urgent, big with war and dread- I am the fport of fortune. SCENE YIII. Periander, Eurydice, Melissa. Melissa. O ! my Lord, Some wonderous birth of fate is fure difclofing. Procles calls out to arms : his guaids fwarm round him, Hafte in each ftep, and fear in every eye. This way too Me don fpeeds, and in his train A gloomy band of foldiers. Periander. Let him come. JDeath has no terrors, when to live is fhame. SCENE E U R Y D I C E. 53 SCENE IX. Periander, Eurydice, Melissa, MeDoN at the head of one party ivho hurry the G^een off the ftage^ LeoNIDAS at the head of another ivho remove the King. Medon. Be quick, fecure the Queen. EURYDICE. What mean'ft thou, ruffian ? Mull we then part ? — Farewel, my Lord, for ever. Periander. TTiou too, LeoNIDAS ! — nay then — SCENE X. Leon I DAS alone. O Jove ! Eternal and fuprcme, whofe nod controuls The fate of empires -y whofe almighty hand Suftains the weak, and raifcs vertue fallen, Now to this royal fufferer deal thy mercy: Aid his jufl arms, and teach mankind to know That fovcrcign juftice fways the world below. The End of the Third ACl. ACT 54 E U R Y D I C E. A C T IV. S C E N E I. EuRYDiCE, Melissa. EURYDICF.. "IT THAT may this mean ? The gloomy band of ruffians, ^ ^ That bore me hence, vanifh'd I know not how. And hark ! no found, no breath of human voice j But all around the depth of folitude! A dumb and death-like ftillnefs ! My foul trembles : And Appreheniion peoples the lone void With fears of horrid form — But what can fate? What can the wrath of all the Gods inflid: Beyond wliat I have known ? Melissa. My gracious Miftrefs, This awful moment is perhaps the crifis Of all your future life. Your guards fled fudden: And late the neighbouring courts were loud with tumult, Which dy'd away in flow and fuUen murmurs. Some turn of fate is near. Leonidas In hafte bore hence the king, doubtlefs to fave him From his dire foe : or at the people's head Once more to place their fovereign, and refliore You to your former fl:ate. EURYDICE- All otherwife My thoughts forebode. There is one deadly ill. Which oh too fure no time, no chance can heal ! And at the dawn of day, jufl: as thefe lids Reludlant clos'd to fefl:, Arp Asia's Shade, My E U R Y D I C E. ss My much-lov'd mother, flood confcf^'d before me. Pale as the ftiroud that wound her clay-cold limbs; Her eyes hx'd on me, ftill and motionlefs, Streaming unreal tears. She groan'd, and thrice In low, fad murmurs bade me to her tomb, To meet her there — and there, in death aJone> In the 'dark grave, can poor Eurydice Expect repofe. Melissa. O no i juft heaven, I hope, Thar fees your innocence, has yet in (lore Much blifs and many days of peace for you. EURYDICE. I know his heart is quite cftrang'd, and iliur, For everfhur againft the voice of love: And can my heart furvive it ? Shall I live With public infamy ? a theme of fcorn To all licentious tongues ? Oh ! in that thought. Death's keencft dart has ftab'd my foul already i And what comes after is not worth my fear. Melissa. Ha ! Madam, this way caft your eyes, and fee What fwarms of men ; thefc flying, thofe purfuing. EURYDICE. Now, Lord of battles I join thy powerful arm; AfTcrt the caufe of rightcoufnefs — But hark ! The thunder of their fhouts grows near and loud. This way the combat turns. By all my hopes, The Tyrant's parry files. Look, look, Melissa, Their broken numbers to the fortrcfs bend. Mflissa. And now with eager fpccd tiiey climb th' afcenc That leads to us. EURYDICE. But who is he, Melissa, That like the God of war, flarpcs forcmofl yonder? Sec 56 E U R Y D I C E. See his fword lighten, and the foe fly fcattering From his tempeftuous arm ! — Ha — yes — O heaven! 'Tishe, 'tis he himfelf, 'tis Periander! O miracle ! He looks again a monarch, Dreadfully glorious. Throw, ye Powers ! your fliield Of providence before himj think on all His caufelefs wrongs, and do him juftice now. Melissa. Ah ! Procles comes. Qt^Q p(^jta>90)Q ^(S)QO'S>QQOQQOOQOtO SCENE II. Procles followed by a party of his guards^ EuRYDiCE, Melissa. Procles. Confufion ! all is loft. That Traitor has undone me : and thofe flave^ The falfe Corinthians^ in a moment's flight. Threw all their gates wide open to the foe. Of hope abandon'd, and the Gods againft me. What now remains ? — The Queen ! by heaven 'tis well : Their boafted triumph is not yet compleat. She's mine, fhe's mine j and I am conqueror ftill! You, bear this woman thro' the poftern-gate \tQ one party. Down to the fouthern fliore : I fail this moment For Epidaurus. You, the while malce head \to another. Againft the near purfuit, and bar its progrefs Till fhe's fecur'd. This is my lafl: great ftake. Of dearer price than vidory. Away. EURYDICE." E U R Y D I C E. 57 EURYDICE. No, Tyrant: I will die firll. Off, bafe (laves. Dare ye, dare earth-born pcalants violate. With your rude touch, the majefty of kings ? Ah! heaven — Procles. Be quick, nor liftcn to her raving. SCENE III. EuRYDicE, Procles, Medon, ixc- Medon. Undone ! undone ! The poftern-gate is feii'd. That curft Leonidas — Procles. Ha! fay'ft thou, MedoN ? Medon. By hell, our foes furround us on each hand. We're taken in the toil. Procles. Unequal Powers! And have you then dcceiv'd mc ? rais'd me high With traiterous kindnefs, but to plunge nie deeper In howling dcfpcration? Docs the man, Whom late my foot could fpurn, behold my fall ? And fall I thus ? my great ambition daflvd > My love unfatisfy'd ? Shall he yet revel In her fond arms, and hear her curfe my name ? No. Spite of heaven my ruine fliall be glorious, A pomp of horrors. I will make this day For ever mournful to his aking heart. Yc", he Hull weep in bl(X)d amid the Hiouts Of viflory. One blow deftroys his triumph, And levels him at once to my deftrudion. \\7i (iraivi a dagger. I EURVUICE. 58 EURYDICE. EURYDICE. Strike, Tyrant, and compleat thy monftrous crimes." See, thou pale coward, fee a woman braves Thy guilty dagger. Procles. Ha ! what's this I feel ? A fliiveringdew of horror fweats all o'er me ! Some Power invifible arrefts my arm ! It is heaven's fecret hand — But fhall I lofe This only moment ? No : be ftrong my heart ,' Be fhut againft all human thoughts, and fcorn Thefe warnings of thy hoftile Gods — 'Tis done. SCENE IV. PoLYDORE and foldiersj Procles, Eury- DiCE, Leon IDAS, ^c, PoLYDoRE pujhing back Procles ijolth his lance. No, traitor, murderer, no. Heaven is more juft Than to pei«mit a life fo much its care To fall by thy vile hand. Secure the Tyrant. [to his foldiers' My mother ! EURYDICE. O my fon ! PoLYDORE. Tranfporting joy ! EURYDICE. O ecflacy! and do I fee thy face ? And do I hold thee in my trembling arms ? Thou darling of my love ! thou early heroe ! O thou haft fav'd us all4 PoLYDORE. This, this is triumph! And I can ask of bounteous heaven no more. Was ever joy k) full ? This feeble arm, O pride to think I has fav'd the facred lives From E U R Y D I C E. 59 From whom I drew my own. EURYDICF.. And is this poiTible ? What niilll fay?— But language all is poor To Ipeak the tender yearnings of my foul. PoLYDORE ! did ever parents know Such tranfports as do diine ? Did ever fon Defervefo well of parents ?— Good Leonidas, 1 faw thee not before ; indeed I could not : My eyes, my foul, were fo clofe fix'd on him. But fay, redouble this day's blils, and lay, Whence this amazing change ? Leonidas. My royal Miftrefs, The Gods have done this. One half of the fleet. As led by their peculiar hand, elcap'd Yeftcrday's ruinous llorm, and with the dawn Enrer'd the portunfccn^ their fecret landing Befriended by the morn's wide-hovering milts. Inftant, inform'd of his great father's fate. Your Poly DOR E, this gallant royal youth, Pour'd forth his eager troops ; and at their head. Swift as heaven's darted fire, flew towards Corinth, Which open d v/idc her arms to take him in. His fortune fpeaks the refl;. EURYDICE. O fovcrcign vloodncfs ! Be thine the praife : this is thy wonderous work. I'hc King, how was he fav'd ? Leonidas. Struck with this danger, The Tyrant had to prcfent death devoted His Cicrcd head. I counfel'd, and prevail'd (Procles ftiU thought me his) in bonds to hold hijn As our furc pledge ot" fafery, fhould fucccls I 2 Dt/^rc 60 E U R Y D I C E. Defert our arms. The following moment faw him Free from his chains, and forcmoft in the fight — And hark ! thefe joyous ftrains proclaim his triumph. EURYDICE. Retire, my fon ^ I would not meet him here. SCENE V. Periander attended, Leon id as, Ariston, PROCLES, Medon. Periander a[ide. She flies !-Thou coward,Guilt!— but hertce that thought. \_ad'vancing toiiiardsV'^oCL^^- At length the meafure of thy-crimes is full : Thy high-plum'd pride lies humbled in the dufl j And awful Juftice comes, array'd in terrors. To make enquiry for the guilt that fwells Thy black account — But I will check my heart. Nor learn of thee to triumph o'er the fallen. Bear him to prifon. Procles. Yet, I will be free, And foon beyond thy power. Knowing the worft, I laugh at all to come. Periander to Medon. For thee, thou vile one. Thou pander to thy Mafters lufts, thou fycophant, (The moft pernicious prefent angry heaven Can make to princes whom it means to blind, And ruin beyond mercy) thy juft doom Is inftant. Spurn this flave into the ftreets. The furious people, whom his earth-born pride Has trampled on, and numerous rapines bcggar'd? Will find th' oppreffor out, and as they tear Hi5 guilty limbs, think all their wrongs o'er-paid. SCENE E U R Y D I C E. (51 eOQQ(^QQ(^QSO.Q0O0€iQ0QOQQC:X> SCENE VI. Periander, Leonidas, Ariston. Periander. Leon IDAS, my father and prefcrver. Rife to my arms. By heaven the joy that fmiles Upon thy brow adds brightnefs to tlu.- morn. This wonderous revolution of my fate, This change that gives me back my crown and namcj Rejoices me yet lefs, than tliat I owe The gift to thee. Leonidas. O Ci<"rpH Sir, forbear. The tranfport to behold you thus again Is great reward. Now your old man can fay He has not liv'd in vain. Ye bounteous Powers ! Difmifs me now in peace i for I have fcen My Mafter bleft ! Periander. No recompencc can equal Such matchlcTb goodnefs. But I will repay thee A way more plcafing to a foul like thine. By running ftill in debt to all thy vcrtues. Thou know'ft th' unhappy, envy'd flate of kings j Hov/ perilous the height lb near to heaven. Ten thouCind ways expos'd: here to the lull Of lawlefs will ^ there to the darker ruinc Of venal flattery. Be near me ftill. Thy life has roll'd thro' all the various round Of human chance : and years of hoary thought, Con] and unpafTumare, have taught thee wildom. Be ftill my guide, and favc me from the fnarcs Tlut thus bcfct mc , favc mc from myiclf Leonidas. 62 E U R Y D I C E. Leonidas. My heart can only anfv/er to this goodnefi By filent gratitude and joy—But, Sir, Forgive me if I fay, another care Demands your prefent thought. Periander aftde. Fatal remembrance ! At once inflam'd my fmother'd rage burns up With fiercer bia2,e. He muft not know the purpofe With which my bofom labours. [to him. Yes, my friend. Of that we'll talk anon ; but now I willi An hour of privacy. — Ariston, flay, SCENE VII. Periander, Ariston. Periander. Thus far have I reprefs'd the ftorm within me; Held down its furious heavings : but they now Shall have full flow. I am once more a king. ^ My foe is in my hand, and breathes this air But till I doom him dead : yet is not he So curft, fo ruin'd as his conqueror ! Ariston. What do I hear, my Lord ? Periander. Ah ! good Ariston, The horrors of thy tale were true. She has. She has betray'd mc. Ariston. Since the Queen is fallen. There is no truft in woman — Periander. Nor no hope For E U R Y D I C E, 6j For wretched Periander. Not the grave Can hide me now from fcorn : not length of days Will wear out this. O never-dying fhame ! Worlds yet unfound will hear it : and where'er The guilty tale is told, my fate will raife Bafe mirth, or bafer pity. Ariston. Could the Queen Stoop to a thought of Procles.? FaUe fond fex! Unfix'd by reafon, ever wandering wild, As Fancy whirls, from folly on to folly. From vanity to vice. My gracious Lord, She is beneath your anger. Caft her out From all your foul, and be yourfclf again. Rcfume that reafon. Sir — Periander." Away: can realbn Arreft the whirlwind's wing ? or quench the foreft. Struck by the hand of Jove, when all its woods In one broad conflagration Liuzc to heaven ? Tis reafon makes me wretched ; for it tells me How fhameful this mad confli(fl of my pa0ions : But does that ftill their uproar? Here, Ariston, Works the wild ftorm that reafon cannot calm. I mufl, I v/iil have cafe. Aristom. You may ; but oh ! The remedy is dreadful, and will give you Swoonings and mortal agonies. I tremble To mention it ; but fuch your foul's deep malady. No gentler cure can bring the health you want. Her death, my Lord — Periander, Ha ! death — my foul flirinks back From the dread image. How! for ever lofc her! My queen I my wife 1 behold thofc eyes no more s^ That 64- E U R Y D I C E. That were the light of mine ! no longer hear That voice whofe etery found was harmony ! Of power to footh tumultuous Rage, and heai The wounded heart of Anguifli— Can it be ? O mifery ! why, why is this ? Ariston. Alas! You love her ftill, my Lord, and know it not Periander. Ye Gods, why am I thus ? driven to and fro By every blaft that blows ? — It is too true. A traiterous foftnefs fteals o'er my juft rage. And melts me to the dotage of low pity. thou mean heart ! Is fhe not falfe ? And I, Shall I fit down with tame difhonour ? take Pollution to my arms } grow vilely old, A tale for drunkards in their wine ? the mirth Of midnight libertines, when they recount Their triumphs o'er bafe women ? No : fhe dies. 1 tear her from my breaft, tho' the life-ftream Should iffue with her. Hear me then, Ariston, Do thou prepare a fecret draught of death. Of power moft fwift and baneful ^ and be ready Upon my fatal fummons. Ariston. Spare pie, Sir,- I like not this employ. Periander. It muft be thine. I have no friend in whom tq trufl but thee ; And fhe fhall die — But think'ft thou, good Ariston, I fhould not hear her firft ? Ariston. Hear her, my l^ord ? Would you then have her live .^ Periander- E U R Y D I C E. 6s Periander. No i were my his involv'd in hers, (he fliould not live. But IHIJ Someihmg within me crys that I Ihould hear her. It is not, can't be love. 'Tis my revenge, Ail direful now, that would enjoy her tears, Her lying oaths of innocence, her new And added perjuries : then link her down To the dark world, with all her crimes upon her Ariston. You fee not. Sir, the danger of that meeting. Is your heart proof againft the powerful charm Of beauty foften'd into lighs, and melting • Wich the mild languor of imploring eyes. More winning now, and fhedding gentler beams Thro' lliowers of forrow. Think ) ou here behold her. The kneeling charmer lovely in her tears. Pleading for pit)', finking at your feet, And dying by your frown. Periander. Art thou my friend } O mercilefs ! why doft thou raife before me This dangerous image ? 'Tis not to be borne. My brain turns round with madnefs. O ye Powers! Why am I not at quiet? \\'hy is li^c Forc'd on the wretch who ftrongly begs to die, In bitternefs of foul ? who asks no more But the grave's fhade and lilence, there at laft To ilcep for ever, namelefs and forgotten ? Ariston. Alas for pity ! I will talk no more On this dillrciiful theme. Periander. AristoNj flay. Spite of thefc tears, fpirc ot ih:; fond diftradtion, It ftull bs done. A king may live unhappy K But 66 E U R Y D I C E. But not wirh lofs of honour unreveng'd. 'Twas mad to think of this. I will not truft My eyes againfl the witchcraft of her charms. Then fiimmon all thy firmnefs, O ray Soul! And dare to be accurft ^ fince thy fad choice Is fhame, or mifery. I am refoWd. Ye Gods who watch o'er the chaile marriage-bed I Thou Stygia?t JovE ! and all ye Powers iniernal ! Behold, I kneel as in your awful prefence. By that invilible, that dreaded Lake, Th' irrevocable oath that binds even you, Here I pronounce, and feal her doom of death. • SCENE VIII. EaRYDiCE, Periander, Ariston. EuRYDicE kneels to Periander, ivho after looking on her fome time -with emotio?ij fings wway ixiithout freaking. EuRYDiCE alone. Not hear m.e ! not vouchfafe me one poor word ! 'Tis hard indeed. — The Wretch of many crimes, [I'iftng. Whom Mercy dares not fave, is gentler us'd. His rigid judge is lefs fevere than mine. Ye Powers ! have I defer v'd this ? Did my heart E'er harbour one loofe wilh ? Your felves can tell. The morning's orient beam is not m.ore pure. More ftainlefs than my truth. Was ever fate, Were ever woes, like mine ? Even in the hour Of generd joy to all, while pleafing hbpe Sprung faft within my heart, I find my felf Undone for ever i funk to rife no more ! Not E U R Y D I C E. 67 Not hear mc — i.rjii I know my doom is fix'd. And Avail I icay to hear the foul Ibrniize^, The f:arril taunts, the falfe upbraiding pit}', The keen rcvilin^s, that muft ufher in My public fenrcncc ? Can there be in dcarlj Such pangs ? fuch picrting agonies ? Impoflible. Death is repofc and calm, is ibft: clizium To thoughts like ihcfe. I will prevent their triumph> And fave myfelF this fhanie. 'Tis but to lofe A few unhappy moments j 'tis to relt The fooncr f'om my cares ,• to feel no more The bitterneis of mifety and infult That bait my weary foul. Tlien it is fix'd. Spite of the woman, no fond tear fliall flow. No figh arife, the coward-fex to fhew. When life is fliamc, and glorious freedom nigh, A Grecian and a Queen muft dare to die. The End of the Fourth A^. K 2 ACT 68 E U R Y D I C E. ACTV. SCENE L Periander walking difordered^ Leon ID AS following, OMY lov'd Mafter! have I liv'd to fee This fight of woe ? Alas! is this to conquei ? Are thefe the fruits of victory ? Periander. Away, Why natn'ft thou vidory to me, a flave Subdu'd and tyranniz'd by his worfb foes. His unrelenting paflions ? Talk of ruine. And I will hear thee : talk of hopclefs mifery j No other ftrain befits thy mafter's triumph. Leonidas. This is the language of fupreme diftrefs, Impatient of itfelf My gracious Lord, Forgive an old man's talk, who would this moment. Might his poor life bring back your peace of mind. With joy refign it. Periander. That were to bring back The darted fun-beam, or recall the flight Of unreturning time. O no : my foul Has bid the laft farewel to happinefs. To hope itfelf And yet I thank thy love, Indeed I dp : but leave me fqr a while. I would be private. Leonidas. Sir, I dare not leave you — Forgive thefe tears — I dare not leave you thus At E U R Y D I C E. 69 At variance wuh your fclf. I read too plain The fatal thought that wakens in your bolbm. Perian'der. And would'ft thou hive me live this abjcLl thing? This flave of folly ? For I tell thee blulLing, With fhamc and llrong abhorrence of my fclf, I cannot tear that Woman from my foul, Fallc, fairhlefs as (he is — Then I will die. That juft revenge is flill wiihin my power. Leon IDAS. OJcaloufyl thou mcrcilcfs deltroycr, More cruel than the grave.' what ravages Does thy wild war make in the noblefl: bofoms ! Too long, my L,ord, you liften to the whifpcrs Of that domcftic foe, that bofom traitor. For mercy's fake, throw not away fo raflily The jewel of your foul. Some unfecn error Mif-leads you from the truth, and ruins her. Grant her a moment's audience. Periander. I have fv/orn. That flic fliall die. Leonidas. Is then her facred life Of fo frnall price, to cafl: her thus away With blind precipitance? Your Queen, my Lord! The faired form, the moft exalted mind ! Once fo ador'd and lov'd! to whom your foul Still cleaves with fondnefs ! Can you give her up> The mother of your dading Polydore, Unheard, untr)''d, to death and infamy ? Can you do this ? Periander. O Thou ! whofc eye beholds And pitys the frail heart of erring man, Rultr of heaven and earth ! or ftill thefe pafTions, That rage in tempcll here : or ilrikc in mercy. And 70 E U R Y D I C E. And free me from my pain. — What can I do ? My folemn vow is gone up to high heaven : And would" il thou have me break it ? Leonidas. That rafh oath Nor does, nor ought to bind. The Gods refufe it. Should youj too late, dilcover flie is wronged — Think on it v/ell — O what a life of horrors Remains for you! I tremble but to name 'em. The fad and iilent meltings of vain forrow ; The thorn of keen remorfe , the fting of love, Infiam'd by fond reflection, hourly fighing For what he never, never hopes to find : With thefe, late-coming, but no more to leave you, Defpair accurft. Drjadfui fociety! Yet fuch will lliare your day j,nd night, and haunt Your court, your throne, your folitude, your couch, Alas, my Lord! Periander. O by miy foul's ftrong anguifli, I would moft gladly blot out from my thoughts All memory of paft time : I yet would queftion The waking evidence of every fenfe. To give her back that vertue, thofe fair beams That flione on our firft loves. Then was I bleft Beyond the race of men, belov'd and loving, Honour'd and happy j and my name as odor Pour'd forth, and breathing frefhnefs all around. days of dear delight ! that I could fix For ever there, and think no fiirther on. 1 will if poffible. Leonidas. O happy change ! Confirm this gentle purpofe, favouring heaven ! I fly to bring her hither. Periander. EU R Y D I C E. 71 Periander. Stay thee yet. I would rcfolve, but cannot. Love and rage By turns aflail me: melt me now to mercy i Now roufe me to diftradlion — O my heart ! Lkonidas. Then punifh the fole cau'e oF all your pangs. On the great criminal, on PiiocLEs' head Dilcharge the fulnefs of a righteous vengeance, And juilify the Gods. Let the rack tear The traitor's limbs i and as lie howls with anguifh, Extort confclTion from him of the lyes, The dark afperllons, that have well nigh ruin'd Your injur'd, vertuous Qiiecn, and toitur'd you. Plrtander. What haft thou done ? O that dctefted name ! Thou know'ft not half my madncls — that curfl name Has fct my brain on blaze, and call'd up there Ten thoufand furic*-. HelJ ! haft thou not heard What fharac and fcorn, what vilenefs and confufion, He heap'd upon my head— and llie the caul'e 1 Leonidas. Oh heaven, and is this retribution thine ? Muft Vcrtue know, what Vice alone fhould feel.' Periander. Forbear, fond man. That heaven thou dar'ft acculc, Juft, tho' myfterious, leads us on unerring, Thro' wsvo unmark'd, from Guilt to Punilhmcnt. I vow'd, ilia-! and with ftrong adjurations Bound that juft vow, to'tet my counrry free. Thi->, to my Father on his bed of death, Solemn I fworc— But, O blinil luft of greatncfs! Thro' wantonnefs of will I lightly wcigli'd it, Nor fear'd the hour of terrible account ! That hour is come : and what avails it now That I, with ctjual hand and gentle ruje. Have 72 E U R Y D I C E. Have fway'd my people ? I am punifh'd moft. Where I had bid my foul be moft fecure Of happiners for years — Ha! PonyooRE. SCENE 11. POLYDORE, PeRIANDER, LeONIDAS. Periander. I faid I would be private. PoLYDORE. O my father, Here let me kneel for ever, weep thefe eyes To blindnefs, and ne'er know a thought of comfort. Periander. What would my Polydore ? Polydore. Alas ! what means This common face of w6e that meets my fight Where'er I turn ? Even now while happy Corinth Blaxes with triumph ; while the neighbouring fhores Refound to heaven her voice of general joy. The palace is in tears. Her filent courts Are dark with mourning, as if Death and Ruine, Not Vidory, had fix'd their maniion here. Periander. There is a caufe, my fon, a dreadful one. But leave me to myfelf. Polydore. Am I then grown A horror to your eyes ? What is my crime. That thus with alienated look you turn As from forae baleful objed ? Yet, my father, Oft have you fworn that in this face you faw. And lov'd your darling Queen. Periander. E U R Y D I C E. 75 Periander. Away, thy loolcj, Thy words diflrad me. POLYDORE. Whither Oiall I fly ? Where hide this hated head ? My mother too. As now I left her, preflTing full her eyes With iix'dand earneft mournfiilnefs on mine, Stream'd into tears : then clafp'd me to her bofom With fuch fad palTion, fuch tranfported tremblings, As parting lovers that muft meet no more. I beg'd to know the caufe. Again fhe prefs'd me With fonder eagernefs, and fighing cry'd, Say to the King, my heart has never erf d. Periander. By heaven, my foul melts at the piteous tale. O PoLYDORE — • SCENE III. Periander, Polydore, Leonidas, Officer. My Lord, the prifoner MedoN Attends, and prays admittance to your prcfence. Periander. Ha! Medon! Doft thou dream ? Medon alive? Did I not charge thee ftriift to caft him forth That moment to the fury of the people? How haft thou dar'd to difobey ? Officer. Dread Sir, As to his fate I led him pale and tremblings At fight of the tumultuous croud around. With utmoft inftance he requelted of me To fave him yet a moment ; for he had Secrets of prime concernment that required L The 74 E U R Y D I C E. The King's immediate ear. We hardly fcap'd Into the fouthern tower : th' unnumber'd rabble With cries and threats demanded forth their foe. At hazard of my life I ventur'd down, Sooth'd, flatter'd, promis'd 'em they fliould have juftice. They are but now difpers'd. Periander. Leonidas, My heart mifgives me at that mifcreant's name. But let him enter. tr^Si. « J^* «s8»ili <•!»* V^* V^* t!^* U^ C*^ «^ ^^