Is vice, is pain, is infamy. Alas! Ilys. Yet the tender friend, Who should direct me, leaves me to myself. Alet. Would fate permit, I would attend thee still. But, Oh, Ilyssus, Be strictly just; but yet, like Heaven, with mer man; Weak, erring, selfish man, endued with power If conquest charm thee, and the pride of war Of happy kingdoms, know, from thy example, Enter PYTHIA hastily. Pyth. Ilyssus! wherefore art thou here? The king expects thee, and the banquet waits. Ilys. I cannot go. Alet. Thou must; thy fate depends Upon thy absence now. The queen approaches. After the banquet I again will see thee, ven. It is, it is Nicander, 'tis my lord! It cannot be, my senses all deceive me- Can know no change. My lord, my life, my hus band! Where hast thou wandered? How hast thou bera hid From love's all-piercing sight? The bloody ruf fians, How didst thou escape their rage? Or did they wreak Upon the helpless innocent alone Nic. Nor on me, nor him Cre. Does he live? Nic. He does. Cre. Oh, honest Phorbas! Murder now is v And thou shalt know the whole. I will, by Hea-Did And my tongue trembles to perform its office. Enter CREUSA. Nic. The fabled murder was all stratagem, Contrived for thy dear sake; no impious ruffians Pursued our steps: I found that I had wronged thee Beyond redress, nor knew another means, Cre. To what have I consented? Ha! Who Despair I thought might conquer love, and thou art thou, That thus intrudest on sacred privacy, When the o'erburthened mind unloads its griefs, Its hoarded miseries? Alet. Thy better genius! Cre. A cursed effect. But I have nearer fears: | But now if thou consent'st, all, all is mine, How cam'st thou hither? Wherefore to these shades? Cre. 'Tis too much, Oh, happy mother! Call'st thou him Nicander? Nic. No, Ion; 'twas the name that matron chose, Who gave him to my care, Cre. Then Ion be it; Ion shall reign in Athens. Know'st thou, love, The cursed design which this Eolian here, And the vile maid Nic. The priestess, it should seem, With Xuthus, has conspired to fix his race Cre. But never shall his race That sceptre wield. Nic. It never shall, Creusa. I have a means Cre. My means, thank Heaven, are surer. [Aside. Nic. But I will tell thee all from first to last. Hear, then, and weigh my words, for fate is in them. Xuthus, the Athenian king Cre. I think not of him. Nic. Beware of that. Whate'er thou think'st, Xuthus must still reign on, thy lord and husband. Cre. Xuthus, my lord! then what art thou, Dost thou despise me for a crime thyself Nic. I know it well, Thou dearest, best of women. My torn heart What in this age of absence I have borne, And I forgive my fate. The dear, dear boy, I have a means to place him on the throne Secure as we could wish. Cre. Secure he shall be; What have I done? What said, which could at tack The seats of sense with this amazing force? My wife, my queen, Oh speak! Cre. Off, touch me not! Thou canst not bring relief. Oh, I am cursed Beyond all power of aid! Thou too art cursed, And know'st it not! He dies, he dies, Nicander! Nic. Amazement! Who? Cre. Oh, had he not been mine, His youth, his softness, each attracting graceI should have staid whole ages, ere in thought I had consented to so damned a deed. Tears, tears, why burst ye not? But what have I To do with tears? Those are for tender mothers. The tygress weeps not o'er her mangled prey. He dies, he dies, Nicander! Nic. Who? Ilyssus? Cre. Phorbas urged the deed, Nic. Fly, then, this instant! Perhaps thou may'st prevent it; as thou cam'st He parted hence. I knew not to his death! Cre. I go, I fly. Nic. Yet stay, thy rashness there, If fate has saved him, may undo us yet. The Pythia! true, the Pythia shall rush in To stop the fatal banquet, and declare The feast unhallowed; at this lucky moment 4 R She waits me in the temple. Stay, Creusa. [Exit Nicander. Cre. The Pythia, no; I will myself outstrip The lightning's speed. Whatever be the event, 'Tis not too late to die. [Erit SCENE I.-The Laurel Grove. ACT V. Enter PHORBAS and LYCEA. Lyc. OH, earth! Oh, Heaven! Oh, wretched, wretched Athens! Phor. Speak on, Lycca; wherefore art thou silent? Why dost thou lead me to this secret shade? Lyc. The queen, the queen! Lyc. I know not; all to me Is terror and confusion. Phor. What thou know'st Relate. Lyc. She sent me forth to seek thee, Phorbas; I found thee not, but met, at my return, Creusa's self. Despair was in her eyes, With hasty steps she shot impatient by me, Nor listened when I spake. I followed wondering, And entered the pavilion. Phor. The pavilion! Why, went she to the banquet? Lyc. Eager went, Despair and anguish mixing in her look. But, O good Heaven! how changed was that despair To inexpressive joy, when, from the crowd, Eternal pain to memory! the slave But, first, all swear, swear by immortal Jove, By the far darting god who here presides, And the chaste guardian of our native fanes, Phor. What could she mean? Her own untouched. The slave, who mixed the draught, Turned pale and trembled; I, with eager zeal, Pressed forward, but in vain; she firmly grasped The bowl, and drank it to the dregs. Phor. The poison, ha!-I knew her foolish fondness Would start at murder's name. But wherefore die? Why turn upon herself her impious rage? 'Twas madness all; or else some new contri vance, Some fresh Eolian fraud. I care not what. Lyc. Were it not better, Phorbas, first to see Perhaps, some secret unrevealed may lurk Phor. With the Pythia, say'st thou? Lyc. Yet now alone We may surprise her, for I saw the maid Quick from the fane return with hasty steps, As if dispatched on some important message; Perhaps to find thee out. Sure thou shouldst see her. Phor. And perish, ha! No, no, my sacred country, Too much already have I been deceived; Lyc. Mine! good Heaven! Phor. Stay, she wants them not; I know the poison's force too well, Lycea, thee, Some secret message to the queen, Lycea, Which thou alone canst bear. SCENE II. Enter PYTHIA and NICANDER. [Ereuni Nic. This action of the queen sits near my heart. Pyth. She bade me tell thee—But why waste Thou now may'st enter at the postern gate, Nic. Why didst thou not rush in, and stop the Thy speedy presence there had saved us all. Pyth. What could I do? The queen was there already, And all seemed peace and joy; could I suspect My soul bleeds for her, and confusion hangs Nic. And where Creusa? But thou regardest not, in the temple's gloom Nic. I fear her much. But first hear me, Pythia; Thou seest on what a precipice we stand; It were in vain to hope we could conceal The truth from Xuthus; from the rest we may; 'Tis thy task, therefore Pyth. What? to own the fraud, And publish to the king, that Delphi's shrine Nic. To the king 'Twere better sure to publish the deceit Nic. What yet? To Phorbas thou with ease May'st own the truth. He will not start at fraud In sacred things. But see, the queen approaches, Impatient of our stay. She changes not! The bloom of health is still upon her cheek! Fain would I hope-But hopes, alas! are vain. What hast thou done, Creusa? Cre. [Entering.] Saved Ilyssus! Nic. Thou mightst have lived with honour. I start, I tremble at the thoughts of life. One victim might suffice. For Xuthus honour strove, and mightier love Assumed Nicander's cause. Who, then, could fall? Could Xuthus? Could Nicander!-No; Creusa. Nic. Would thou hadst been less kind!-But, O my queen, To blame thee now were vain. Cre. To blame! 'tis praise, 'Tis triumph I demand. He lives! he reigns! Enter LYCEA, hastily. Lyc. Mighty queen, I know not If thy command would authorize the attempt, Than to the world; and, where's the means but The king and young Ilyssus. this, To hide it? By Creusa's art thou say'st He is already bound in solemn oaths To leave Ilyssus heir to Athens' throne. Canst thou not add still stronger oaths, or ere Thou dost reveal the secret of our fate? Nic. Earth and Heaven! What say'st thou, maid? Cre. O let me fly to save him! Here shall their poniards Nic. Rest thou there, Creusa. Thy embassies to-day have proved too fatal. Then who shall dare to break them? Shall the | My life for his I save him from the stroke, king? Thou know'st his scrupulous piety extends to it? And on the instant send him to thy arms. Now, fate, be doubly mine! [Exit. Cre. Off, let me go, I will not be restrained. They tear him piecemeal! Pyth. Patience, mighty queen! Cre. He is a father only to my child, I might have known to what his impious rage Would urge him on, and should have first in formed hin. Gods! must I never know sweet peace again! Not even in death have rest! Pyth. Behold, who comes To bless thee ere thou diest, and cease to murmur At Heaven's high will. Enter ILYSSUS. Cre. It is, it is Ilyssus My son, my son! Ilys. Good Heavens! and do I live To see a parent melt in fondness o'er me !— Aletes saved me from the soldiers' arms, And bade me fly to find a mother here. Art thou, indeed, that mother, mighty queen! And may I call thee so? Thou art! thy looks, Thy tears, thy kind embraces-all, all proclaim The truth.-Ŏ let me thus, thus on my kneesCre. Rise, rise, my child; I am, I am thy mother. Ilys. O sacred sound, Ilyssus is no more That outcast youth. A mother and a queen He finds at once. Cre. But art thou safe, my child? Hast thou no wound? Ilys. The old grey-headed man, Who brought this morn the news of thy arrival, Had raised against my breast his eager sword, Defenceless I; when good Aletes came And snatched me from the stroke. I would have staid, Unarmed with him have staid, but his command Why am I thus encompassed round with wonder? May I not know this riddle of my fate? Cre. Thou art born to thrones, And shalt in Athens reign. Ilys. As Xuthus' heir? Is Xuthus, then, my sire? Forgive me, queen, I have a thousand, and a thousand doubts Can Xuthus be my sire? Pyth. Forbear, Ilyssus, Enter NICANDER. Nic. To death, to death, Creusa. Nic. I have no time to waste live Hear my last words, Ilyssus, thy heart. Thou still must The son of Xuthus. The good Pythia here Pyth. Phorbas sure Should be informed. Nic. Phorbas has breathed his last; And the bribed slave, who mixed the poisonous draught, Fell by this hand.-Ilyssus, oh, farewell! Ilys. How hard he grasps my hand! What means it, Pythia? the cold damps of death Are on her. Cre. Oh! my child, enquire no farther; 'Tis fitting we should part. Lycea, Pythia, Intreat of Xuthus-yet I need not fear His goodness; though I wronged him, foully wronged him, He yet will prove a father to my child, me! How my limbs shiver!-Nearer yet, my child; Nor press thy fate too far. When time permits, My sight grows dim, and I could wish to gaze Cre. Shalt know it now, Ilyssus. Cre. Not Aletes, but Nicander, My wedded lord, thy sire!-And see, he comes For ever on thee.- -Oh! it will not be- [Dies. Ilys. She dies, she dies! Was I, then, only mocked With a vain dream of bliss, to be plunged back In deeper misery? Did I but hear The tender name of child breathed fondly o'er me, To make me feel what 'tis to loss that name? |