Defrauded of his promised happiness?

serve

The first impetuous onsets of his grief;
Use every artifice to keep him stedfast.
Sometimes with tears thou may'st discourse of

me;

Speak of our marriage; let him think I loved him;

Tell him my soul reposed itself on him,
When I resigned my son to his protection.
Ceph. Oh, for a spirit to support my grief!
Is there aught more before you go for ever?
Andr. Oh, my Cephisa! my swoln heart is
full!

I have a thousand farewells to my son :
But tears break in! Grief interrupts my speech-
-My soul o'erflows in fondness-let him know
I died to save him, and would die again.
Season his mind with early hints of glory;
Make him acquainted with his ancestors;
Trace out their shining story in his thoughts;
Dwell on the exploits of his immortal father,
And sometimes let him hear his mother's name.
Let him reflect upon his royal birth
With modest pride; Pyrrhus will prove a friend:
But let him know he has a conqueror's right.
He must be taught to stifle his resentments,
And sacrifice his vengeance to his safety.
Should he prove headstrong, rash, or unadvised,
He then will frustrate all his mother's virtue,
Provoke his fate, and I shall die in vain.

Ceph. Alas! I fear I never shall outlive you.
Andr. No more: thy tears, Cephisa, will be-

What have I done? Where am I? Where is Pyrrhus?

Ye gods! What mean these horrors? I am undone!

My soul is on the rack! I cannot bear it:
Why do I wander like some guilty ghost?
What brought me to this place? What keeps me
here?

The court of Pyrrhus has no room for me!
Do I still doubt if I should love or hate him?
Hard-hearted man! How unconcerned he left
me!

Did he once sigh? Bestow one pitying look?

Why do I start at his impending fate?
Shall he then live? Shall the base traitor live,
To laugh at my distress? No, let him perish!
Be quick, Orestes! Execute my orders!-
Alas! My orders! Oh, preposterous guilt!
Can I decree the death of him I love?
Was it for this my soul delighted in him?
Was it for this I left my father's court?
Have I then crossed so many realms and seas,
To murder Pyrrhus?

Enter CLEONE.

Her. Oh, Cleone, help me!

What have I done? Is Pyrrhus yet alive? What sayest thou? Answer me: Where is the king?

Cleo. Madam, I saw the cruel prince set forward,

Triumphant in his looks, and full of joy.
Still as he walked, his ravished eyes were fixt
On the fair captive; while through shouting
crowds

She passed along with a dejected air,
And seemed to mourn her Hector to the last.

Her. Insulting tyrant! I shall burst with rage! But say, Cleone, didst thou mark him well? Was his brow smooth? Say, did there not ap

pear

Some shade of grief, some little cloud of sorrow! Did he not stop? Did he not look once back? Didst thou approach him? Was he not confounded?

Did he not- -Oh, be quick and tell me all!

Cleo. Madam, the tumult of his joy admits No thought but love. Unguarded he marched on 'Midst a promiscuous throng of friends and foes. His cares all turn upon Astyanax,

Whom he has lodged within the citadel,
Defended by the strength of all his guards.
Her. Enough he dies!-the traitor!-
Where's Orestes?

Cleo. He's in the temple with his whole retinue.

Her. Is he still resolute? Is he still deter mined?

For her confederate nations fought, and kings were slain,

Troy was o'erthrown, and a whole empire fell. My eyes want force to raise a lover's arm, Against a tyrant that has dared to wrong me! Cleo. Madam, like Helen, trust your cause to Greece.

Her. No; I'll avenge myself! I'll to the tem-
ple!

F'll overturn the altar, stab the priest !
I'll hurl destruction, like a whirlwind, round me!
They must not wed! they must not live! they
shall not!-

Let me be gone! I have no time to lose!
Stand off! hold me not! I am all distraction!
Oh, Pyrrhus! Tyrant! Traitor! Thou shalt bleed!
Enter ORESTES.

Orest. Madam, 'tis done; your orders are
obeyed:

The tyrant lies expiring at the altar.
Her. Is Pyrrhus slain?

Orest. Even now he gasps in death:

Our Greeks, all undistinguished in the crowd,
Flocked to the temple, and dispersed themselves
On every side the altar. I was there;
Pyrrhus observed me with a haughty eye,
And, proud to triumph over Greece in me,
From his own brows he took the diadem,
And bound it on the temples of his captive;
Receive, said he, my crown; receive my faith;
Mine and my people's sovereign reign for ever.
From this blest hour, a father to your son,
I'll scourge his foes; henceforward be he styled
The Trojan king; I swear it at the altar,
And call the gods to ratify my vows.
His subjects, with loud acclamations, shook
The spacious dome. Our Greeks, enraged, cried
out,

Revenge! revenge! broke through the thronging press,

And rushed, tumultuous, on the unguarded king;
Their eager fury left no work for me.
Pyrrhus awhile opposed their clashing swords,
And dealt his fatal blows, on ev'ry side,
With manly firmness; till, opprest by numbers,
Streaming with blood, all over gashed with
wounds,

He reeled, he groaned, and at the altar fell.
—Haste, madam; let us fly! Haste to our ships!
They lie unmoored: our friends attend us there.
Her. What have they done!

Orest. Madam, forgive their rage.

| Begone! I know thee not! Thou fell barbarian! What had he done? What could provoke thy madness,

To assassinate so great, so brave a man?
Who set thee on?

Orest. Oh, grant me patience, Heaven!

With your own lips did you not curse the tyrant, Pronounce his death, and urge me to destroy him?

Her. What if, transported by my boundless
passion,

I could not bear to see him wed another,
Were you to obey a jealous woman's frenzy?
You should have dived into my inmost thoughts:
My heart, though full of rage, was free from ma
lice;

And all my anger was excess of love.
Why did you take me at my word! You saw
The struggles of my soul; you heard me rave;
You should have questioned me a thousand times,
Yet still have doubted, and still questioned on,
Before you ventured on a life so precious.

Orest. Hear me but speak: Heaven knows,
against my will-

Her. Why did you not return? Why not con-
sult me

A second time? And, undetermined still,
Again return, and still find new delays?
What had your rash officious Greeks, dire blood-

hounds!

To do with my revenge? What drew you hither? To bring on me the vengeful woes that haunt you?

Are these the fruits of your detested love?
Your fatal embassy, your hateful presence,
Drove Pyrrhus to my rival; and destroys
Both him and me. He might have loved me still,
Had you ne'er interposed-Avaunt! Begone!
And leave me in Epirus. I renounce

My friends, my country, Greece, and all mankind:

But chiefly I renounce thee! monster, thee!

[Exit.

I own your vengeance had been more complete, Had Pyrrhus fallen by me, and had he known Hermione chastised him by my arm.

Her. Peace, monster! peace! Go tell thy
rid tale

To savages, and howl it in the desert.
Wouldst thou impute to me thy barbarous guilt?
Me wouldst thou make the accomplice of thy
crimes?

Hence to thy Greeks, and boast thy foul exploits!

My soul abhors them! I disclaim the deed!

And vows revenge upon the foes of Pyrrhus. The people arm and muster in the streets : Our Greeks will not be able long to guard The palace gates, and to secure our flight. We must be speedy, sir.

Orest. You may depart,

My friends-Hermione and I remain-
Her cruelty has quite undone me ! -Go,
And leave me to myself-I'll find her out.
Pyi. Alas, unhappy princess! she's no more;
Forget her, sir, and save yourself with us.

Örest. Hermione no more!-Oh, all ye powers! Pyl. Full of disorder, wildness in her looks, With hands expanded, and dishevelled hair, Breathless and pale, with shrieks she sought the temple;

In the mid-way she met the corpse of Pyrrhus; She started at the sight; then, stiff with horror, Gazed frightful: waking from the dire amaze, She raised her eyes to heaven with such a look, As spoke her sorrows, and reproached the gods: Then plunged a poniard deep within her breast, And fell on Pyrrhus, grasping him in death.

Orest. I thank you, gods-I never could expect

To be so wretched-You have been industrious
To finish your decrees; to make Orestes
A dreadful instance of your power to punish.
I'm singled out to bear the wrath of Heaven.

Pyl. You hazard your retreat by these delays. The guards will soon beset us. Your complaints Are vain, and may be fatal.

His ravings will return with his misfortunes. Orest. I am dizzy!-Clouds !-Quite lost in utter darkness.

Guide me, some friendly pilot, through the storm.
I shiver! Oh, I freeze!-So;-Light returns;
'Tis the grey dawn!-See, Pylades-Behold!
I am encompassed with a sea of blood!
The crimson billows!—Oh, my brain's on fire!

Iyl. How is it, sir?-Repose yourself on me.
Orest. Pyrrhus, stand off!Why wouldst
thou?-How he glares!
What envious hand has closed thy wounds ?-
Have at thee.

It is Hermione that strikes-Confusion! She catches Pyrrhus in her arms.—Oh, save me!

How terrible she looks! She knits her brow! She frowns me dead! She frights me into madness!

Where am I?-Who are you?

Pyl. Alas, poor prince!

Help to support him.-How he pants for breath!

I blaze again! See there! Look where they come; A shoal of furies-How they swarm about me! My terror! Hide me! Oh, their snakey locks! Hark, how they hiss! See, see, their flaming brands!

Now they let drive full at me! How they grin, And shake their iron whips! My ears! What yelling!

And see, Hermione! She sets them on-Thrust not your scorpions thus into my bosom! Oh! I am stung to death! Dispatch me soon! There-take my heart, Hermione! Tear it out! Disjoint me! kill me!-Oh, my tortured soul! Pyl. Kind Heaven restore him to his wonted calm!

Oft have I seen him rave, but never thus: Quite spent! Assist me, friends, to bear him off; Our time is short: should his strong rage return, 'Twould be beyond our power to force him hence.

Away, my friends! I hear the portal open. [Exeunt.

Enter PHENIX, attended by Guards. Phan. All, all are fled! Orestes is not here! Triumphant villains!-The base, giddy rabble, Whose hands should all have been employed with

Cut off in the fresh ripening prime of manhood, Even in the pride of life; thy triumphs new, And all thy glories in full blossom round thee! The very Trojans would bewail thy fate.

Ceph. Alas, then, will your sorrows never end! Andr. Oh, never, never!--While I live, my tears

Will never cease; for I was born to grieve.Give present orders for the funeral pomp: [To PHENIX.

Let him be robed in all his regal state; Place round him every shining mark of honour: And let the pile, that consecrates his ashes, Rise like his fame, and blaze above the clouds. [A flourish of trumpets. Ceph That sound proclaims the arrival of the prince;

I hope you'll own, that, with becoming art, I've play'd my game, and topp'd the widow's part.

My spouse, poor man, could not live out the play,

But died commodiously on his wedding-day;
While I, his relict, made, at one bold fling,
Myself a princess, and young Sty a king.

You, ladies, who protract a lover's pain,
And hear your servants sigh whole years in vain,
Which of you all would not on marriage ven-
ture,

Might she so soon upon her jointure enter? 'Twas a strange 'scape! Had Pyrrhus liv'd till

now,

I had been finely hamper'd in my vow.
To die by one's own hand, and fly the charms
Of love and life in a young monarch's arms!
"Twere a hard fate-ere I had undergone it,

I might have took one night-to think upon it.
But why, you'll say, was all this grief exprest
For a first husband, laid long since at rest?
Why so much coldness to my kind protector?
-Ah, ladies! had you known the good man
Hector!

Homer will tell you, (or I'm misinform❜d,)
That when, enrag'd, the Grecian camp he storm'd,
To break the tenfold barriers of the gate,
He threw a stone of such prodigious weight
As no two men could lift, not even those
Who in that age of thund'ring mortals rose;
It would have strain'd a dozen modern beaux.

At length, howe'er, I laid my weeds aside,
And sunk the widow in the well-dress'd bride:
In you it still remains to grace the play,
And bless with joy my coronation day;
Take, then, ye circles of the brave and fair,
The fatherless and widow to your care!