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TIMANTHES: A TRAGEDY.

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TIMANTHES: A TRAGEDY.

As it is performed at the THEATRE ROYAL IN COVENT-GARDEN.

BY JOHN HOOLE.

LONDON: Printed for T. BECKET and Co. in the Strand.

M.DCC.LXX.

PROLOGUE.

[]

Spoken by Mr. BENSLEY.

WHEN firſt our bard advent'rous left the ſhore,
To tempt the drama's depth, untry'd before;
With beating heart his trembling ſail he rear'd,
While critic ſands and envious rocks he fear'd.
But your indulgence ſwell'd the proſp'rous wind,
And ſaſe convey'd him to the port deſign'd.
The track, yourſelves approv'd, he now purſues,
And for a ſecond trip his care renews.

Oft, in the ſilent hours of teeming thought,
As flatt'ring proſpects in his boſom wrought,
Hope imag'd to his ſight your ſtarting tear,
And brought the welcome plaudit to his ear!
But while he now revolves that mutual fame
Should join the poet's and the actor's name,
O! let him here one tender tribute pay,
To early worth, untimely ſnatch'd away!
To HIM, who once, alas! his ſcene inſpir'd,
Whoſe ſoftneſs melted, and whoſe ſpirit fir'd!
While to the friend this grateful debt he pays,
Each gen'rous breaſt will ſure confirm the praiſe;
With you, his honeſt zeal muſt ſtand approv'd,
Which makes this off'ring to the man he lov'd!

Dramatis Perſonae.

[]

DEMOPHOON, Mr. BENSLEY.
TIMANTHES, Mr. SMITH.
CHERINTHUS, Mr. WROUGHTON.
MATHUSIUS, Mr. CLARKE.
ADRASTUS, Mr. GARDNER.
ORCANES, Mr. DAVIS.

OLINTHUS, a Child.

ISMENA, Mrs. YATES.
CEPHISA, Mrs. BULKLEY.

Officer, Guards, Attendants; Chorus of PRIESTS and VIRGINS.

SCENE, Thrace.

TIMANTHES: A TRAGEDY.

[]

ACT I.SCENE, The palace.
Enter ADRASTUS and ORCANES▪
ORCANES.
TIMANTHES is arriv'd.
ADRASTUS.
The ſetting ſun
Gilds his returning enſigns.—Great Demophoon
Prepares to welcome home his conquering ſon,
And meet him with a father's love.
ORCANES.
And yet
Amidſt this hour of triumph, ſorrow clouds
The ſplendor of a victor's arms: this eve
Fore-runs a day of ſad ſolemnity.
ADRASTUS.
Orcanes, yes—that ſun, whoſe chearful light
Smiles on the harmleſs ſwain, that piping leads
[2] His flock to fold, muſt, ere to-morrow's noon,
Behold his altar ſtain'd with guiltleſs blood.
Thou know'ſt long ſince the oracle requir'd
A virgin's life in annual ſacrifice;
And every year, on this returning day,
In ſolemn rites our weeping Thrace gives up
The melancholy victim.
ORCANES.
Have the prieſts
Receiv'd the virgins yet, whoſe names muſt ſtand
To-morrow's dreadful chance?
ADRASTUS.
Not yet—and thence
I fear new evils may ariſe: 'tis whiſper'd,
I know not what, of ſomething that portends
Conteſt and tumult to the ſtate: Mathuſius,
The hoary chief, beneath whoſe foſtering care
Our young Timanthes learn'd the trade of war,
Grown old in toils, an alien to the court,
Now lives ſequeſter'd, ſince the king diſpleas'd
Recall'd him from command, and in his ſtead
Left his brave ſon to guide the Thracian files:
Retir'd he dwells, where on the city's ſkirts
The ſea in tempeſts breaks; or where, in calms;
Its glaſſy waves reflect the trembling towers;
With him reſides his daughter fair Iſmena.
ORCANES.
The coldneſs 'twixt Demophoon and Mathuſius
Has reach'd the public notice; born to ſhine
In camps alone, Mathuſius has not learnt
The ſoft addreſs to riſe in courts.
ADRASTUS.
'Tis true,
And bred with him, Timanthes has imbib'd
[3] His temper's warmth, which oft, by youth inflam'd,
Flies to extremes—Cherinthus, his young brother,
Is form'd of ſofter mould; yet both poſſeſs
Demophoon's heart; and born of different queens,
He in Timanthes ſeems to prize the gifts
Of manly fortitude, while in Cherinthus
He loves the milder virtues that revive
His queen Serena's memory.
ORCANES.
Cherinthus
Is now expected from the Phrygian land,
Sent by Demophoon on ſome embaſſy
Of high concern—but ſee the king approaches.
Enter DEMOPHOON attended.
DEMOPHOON.
'Tis well—Mathuſius' abſence on the eve
Of this important day, when he ſhould meet
My conquering ſon, the pupil of his arms,
Argues a ſtubbornneſs and diſregard
A ſovereign ill can brook: we own his deeds,
His years of ſervice for the ſtate;—but tell
The all-preſuming man, that merit, ſelf
O'er-rated, cancels its reward—Adraſtus,
Ought hears't thou of Cherinthus?
ADRASTUS.
No, my liege,
But to the Thracian port, the fav'ring winds
Muſt bring his veſſel, ere the cloſe of eve.
Forgive a ſubject's freedom, but you ſeem
Oppreſs'd with ſecret care.
DEMOPHOON.
The time, Adraſtus,
Now calls for meditation, and how few
[4] Are a king's hours of peace, whoſe every day
Teems with ſome counſel for the public weal.
ADRASTUS.
Yet this auſpicious day my king muſt own
Sets not with common luſtre; when your ſon,
The brave Timanthes, from the Scythian land,
Adds to his father's brow new wreaths of fame,
And to his people gives the palms of peace.
No, ſacred ſir, the hardy ſons of Thrace
Did never celebrate with greater joy
A conquering chief's return.
DEMOPHOON.
Well pleas'd I hear
My faithful people's ſhouts aſcend the ſky;
And ſympathize in thoſe exulting ſounds,
That to the much-lov'd name of my Timanthes,
Join every wiſh—but hark! the victor comes.
Enter TIMANTHES attended.
TIMANTHES.
Royal ſir!
To whom Timanthes owns the double tie
Of ſon and ſubject; ſee him now return'd
From Scythia's kingdom with ſucceſs and conqueſt
To grace a father's throne—
DEMOPHOON.
Timanthes, riſe:
The king and father give thee double welcome,
And treble praiſe to Mars the armipotent,
That gives Demophoon in his darling ſon
His kingdom's beſt defender.
TIMANTHES.
Thanks to heaven,
Whoſe ſmiles have grac'd my unexperienc'd arms,
[5] I may, without a bluſh, confeſs my deeds:
Yes, we have conquer'd; never view'd the ſun
A more extenſive ſlaughter: 'midſt the tumult
Of fear and rage, were blended undiſtinguiſh'd
The brave, the baſe, the victor and the vanquiſh'd.
The day at length was ours; if you demand
A proof of this, behold yon' captive bands,
Behold yon' ſhatter'd arms and ſtreaming enſigns.
DEMOPHOON.
'Tis not alone o'er the ſtern Scythian foe
Thou ſpread'ſt thy trophies; by ſubduing him,
Thou triumph'ſt in Demophoon's breaſt—mean-time
In this embrace receive my pledge of love:
Thy father welcomes thee—proceed, my ſon,
Urge on thy courſe to honour's furtheſt goal,
Till verging on the extreme of age, Demophoon
Beholds thy fame eclipſe his own—but toils
Demand refreſhment, and the weary'd arm
Of valour gains new vigour from repoſe.
But I have that requires thy private ear;
Let all, except Timanthes, leave the preſence.
[Exeunt attendants.
Manent DEMOPHOON and TIMANTHES.
DEMOPHOON.
Come near, my ſon—thou little think'ſt how much
Thy happineſs employs my careful breaſt.
While in the diſtant fields of fame Timanthes
Encounter'd dangers for his father's honour,
Demophoon's thoughts were all employ'd at home,
To bleſs his glad return with halcyon days.
TIMANTHES.
Have I not felt your goodneſs? ſince the time
Of early childhood to the ripening age
[6] Of manly life, a father has prevented
My every wiſh.—
DEMOPHOON.
Thou know'ſt Argea dy'd
Ere twice ſix moons had taught thy tongue to liſp
A mother's name—two years elaps'd, once more
I try'd the nuptial band: Cherinthus crown'd
This ſecond union—but his birth, alas!
Was fatal to Serena; and with her,
In me the huſband dy'd; and now the father
Engroſſes all my ſoul.
TIMANTHES.
Still may Timanthes
With filial duty ſooth your days in peace,
And oft as war ſhall call your banners forth
Return with conqueſt home.
DEMOPHOON.
Thou canſt not tell
How dear I hold thee—to the toil of arms
Love gives its ſoft relief, and beauty beſt
Smooths the rough front of war: tho' now my years
Roll forward, and the ſummer of my life
Yields to declining autumn, well I know
What youth has been, and what befits the age
When jocund ſpring leads up the laughing hours.
TIMANTHES.
Alas! my lord, let not your goodneſs taſk
Timanthes' gratitude, I aſk no more
To crown my labours than Demophoon's ſmiles.
What bliſs is wanting to that chief, whoſe arms
Defend his ſovereign's crown and guard his people?
DEMOPHOON.
Yes, my lov'd ſon, Cephiſa's virgin charms,
Cephiſa, daughter to the Phrygian king,
Shall be thy valour's great reward.
TIMANTHES.
[7]Cephiſa!
DEMOPHOON.
What mean'ſt thou? Wherefore hangs this ſudden gloom
O'er thy chang'd features? Can Cephiſa's beauties
Whom ſighing kings—nay more—
TIMANTHES.
Yet hear me, ſir,
Be not diſpleas'd with your Timanthes—Heav'n's
My witneſs, gladly would I yield my life,
If ſuch a ſacrifice could aught avail
To inſure Demophoon's peace—but I confeſs
Repugnance here.—
DEMOPHOON.
Timanthes!—
TIMANTHES.
Tho' I own,
(What fame has loudly ſpoken) every virtue
That decks the royal virgin, yet if aught
My deeds have merited—
DEMOPHOON.
Where can we find
Another partner for Timanthes' bed,
Unleſs a ſubject born?—Think not, my ſon,
The ſhades of our great anceſtors ſhall bluſh
To ſee their line diſgrac'd—from them we hold
The ſtatute, that condemns to death the ſubject
Who weds with royal blood; and whilſt I live
I'm guardian of the laws, and will enforce them
Even with ſevereſt rigour.
TIMANTHES.
Sacred ſir—
[8]Enter ORCANES.
ORCANES.
The Phrygian ſhips, my lord, are now deſcry'd
Full ſteering to the port, their ſpreading ſails
Swell in the winds that waft them to the ſhore.
DEMOPHOON.
'Tis well—go thou, my ſon, to meet thy brother,
And bid the princeſs welcome to the land:
Myſelf would with thee, but the prieſts demand
My preſence at the temple, to conſult
To-morrow's mournful rites.
TIMANTHES.
[aſide.]
Doubts riſe on doubts!
This dreadful ſacrifice—yet ſtay, my father—
DEMOPHOON.
What would'ſt thou?—ſpeak—
TIMANTHES.
Alas! I know not what—
Fain would I utter—but—
DEMOPHOON.
No more, I cannot
Prolong the precious time in vain debate:
The terms are ſettled, prince—then ſummon all
Thy virtue to reſpect a parent's will,
And dreſs thy looks in ſmiles to meet Cephiſa.
[Exeunt Demophoon and Orcanes▪
TIMANTHES
alone.
Ha! dreſs my looks in ſmiles to meet Cephiſa!
What have I heard!—O! where's Iſmena now,
That once could ſooth my cares! whoſe beauty beſt
Smooth'd the rough taſk of war—Methinks ev'n now
She chides the lingering hours—then let me fly,
[9] Steal unperceiv'd upon the beauteous mourner,
And with Timanthes' love relieve her ſorrows!
[Exit.
SCENE, A Garden.
Enter MATHUSIUS and ISMENA.
ISMENA.
Yet hear me, ſir, nor chide your lov'd Iſmena,
If ſhe preſume, with unexperienc'd counſel,
To guide a father's thoughts—Alas! I fear
The fond impatience of paternal tenderneſs
But makes that evil ſure, which fortune elſe
May otherwiſe diſpoſe.—Has not Demophoon
Diſpatch'd ſome delegates to Delphos' ſhrine,
Once more to ſeek a period to the ſcourge
That hangs each year on our devoted Thrace?
MATHUSIUS.
From thence no comfort ſprings—This very morn
Arriv'd, they from the ſacred tripos brought
This doubtful anſwer, that the land muſt groan
Beneath the wrath of heaven, till to himſelf
Th' offender ſhall be known, who, guiltleſs now,
Uſurps a prince's right.
ISMENA.
Myſterious all!
MATHUSIUS.
Mean-time deſtruction with remorſeleſs fury
Hangs o'er my child, the darling of my age▪
And ſhall I then conſent—
ISMENA.
Yet recollect
Your wonted fortitude—why ſhould you hope
That, 'midſt the weeping maids of Thrace, Iſmena
[10] Should ſtand exempted from the fatal urn?
You plead the king perhaps—
MATHUSIUS.
And juſt the plea:
Am I, becauſe a ſubject, leſs a father?
Apollo wills ſome virgin, nobly born,
Should ſtain his altar every year with blood.
Let him recall his daughter, kept at diſtance
With artful policy—let him expoſe
Her name in yonder urn, and let him prove
What pangs diſtract a wretched parent's breaſt
When his heart trembles, as the prieſt draws near
The ſacred vaſe, while with a ſolemn mien
His lips prepare to ſpeak the victim's name.
ISMENA.
Alas! my lord, caſt round your eyes, behold
The Thracian court, and mark her proudeſt nobles
Whoſe hearts have ſhudder'd on this awful day
For a child's threaten'd life—'tis true Arſene
The firſt-born off-ſpring of his queen Argea,
Reſides at diſtance from Demophoon's palace:
But yet reflect, that, ſingly to refuſe
Iſmena's name, will but incenſe the king:
Let not my danger urge you to expoſe
Your age to further woe—too much already
He views you with an unpropitious eye.
I dread to think, if now too far provok'd,
What miſchief may enſue!
MATHUSIUS.
In vain thou tell'ſt me
Of wrath or hatred in his breaſt, while reaſon
Aſſerts my cauſe, and heav'n inſpires my thoughts.
Was it for this I taught his arms to conquer,
And bred his ſon to greatneſs? Yes, by me
[11] The Scythian foe is vanquiſh'd; and by me
This eve Timanthes comes in triumph home▪
ISMENA.
Timanthes, O! my heart! [aſide.]
 What ſays my father,
Is then the prince return'd?
MATHUSIUS.
He is, Iſmena,
And comes in happy hour: his generous ſoul
Diſdains not to remember that Mathuſius
Taught his young ſword to reap in glory's field▪
To him I will appeal—he will, with pity,
Behold a parent's ſufferings.
ISMENA.
Yet, my father,
Should the brave prince, with ſympathizing heart,
Plead vainly with Demophoon, O! forbear
To urge the conteſt further: hope, the genius
That ſtill has watch'd your years of danger paſt,
Will guard your age from anguiſh.
MATHUSIUS.
Ceaſe, Iſmena,
To oppoſe, with fruitleſs words, my fix'd reſolve:
No, if I ſtill muſt be condemn'd to feel
This anguiſh of the ſoul, yon haughty monarch
Shall ſhare with me thoſe fears a father knows,
Nor ſtand excluded from Mathuſius' pangs!
[Exit.
ISMENA
alone.
The tempeſt thickens round! my little bark
That, till this hour, has ſtemm'd life's boiſterous wave,
At length, I fear, muſt ſink—Timanthes comes,
He comes with conqueſt crown'd, but where are now
Iſmena's ſmiles to meet him! Is it thus,
[12] With tears ill-omen'd, with foreboding ſighs,
I give him welcome here.
Enter TIMANTHES.
My life! my lord!
Com'ſt thou again, preſerv'd from danger's field,
To theſe fond arms!
TIMANTHES.
Yes, 'midſt the ſterner deeds
Which glory claim'd, thy image, preſent ſtill,
Sooth'd every toil—And art thou then the ſame
As when I left thee at the call of honour?
ISMENA.
Canſt thou then doubt me! If thy heart, Timanthes,
In the rough ſhock of war, and clang of arms,
Forgot not ſofter hours of peace and love,
Think'ſt thou, Iſmena, 'midſt theſe ſhades, that oft
Have witneſs'd to our mutual vows, would ever
Caſt off remembrance that ſhe once was happy?
TIMANTHES.
Forgive the fondneſs of o'erflowing love
That wiſhes ſtill to hear thoſe gentle lips
Breathe their ſoft vows—How fares my boy Olinthus?
The precious pledge of our connubial joys,
That heaven beſtow'd while, diſtant with thy father,
Four ſprings renewing ſince the Thracian grove,
Timanthes march'd againſt his country's foes?
ISMENA.
Some God, that watches o'er this pledge of love,
Sure crowns his tender age with growing beauty,
Or the fond mother with imagin'd grace
Has deck'd his infancy; his looks already
Aſſume thy manly ſternneſs; when he ſmiles,
[13] He's all thyſelf; and oft as I can ſteal
A wiſh'd-for look, I gaze with rapture on him,
And think I view Timanthes, till deceiv'd
With the dear thought, I ſtrain him to my breaſt,
And in the ſon embrace the abſent father.
TIMANTHES.
What place contains our infant hope! O! lead,
Lead me, Iſmena, where theſe longing eyes
May in his features read a father's likeneſs,
Or ſee them blooming with his mother's charms.
ISMENA.
Alas! my lord, awhile ſuppreſs theſe warm
Paternal feelings—ſome few miles remote,
Sequeſter'd from the city, on the edge
Of the rude foreſt, Arcas and Ianthe,
A ruſtic pair, unconſcious of their charge,
Rear his young life—Amidſt the obſerving eyes
That watch a prince's deeds, you muſt beware,
And but with caution ſee him—Heav'n allows
To us with ſcanty hand the parent's joys,
In the ſoft moments of o'erflowing nature,
To claſp him in our fond endearing arms,
And bleſs the prattler with the tongue of tranſport.
TIMANTHES.
By heav'n it ſhall not be—I'll burſt at once
From dark diſſimulation's veil—'tis now
The criſis of our fate!
ISMENA.
It is indeed:
To-morrow's ſun lights up the ſolemn day
Of annual ſacrifice: Iſmena's name
Muſt ſtand enroll'd amongſt th' elected train
That wait the dreadful chance.
TIMANTHES.
[14]Iſmena's name!
ISMENA.
'Tis ſo decreed,—and think not that I fear
To die for Thrace—no, for her country's ſake,
Iſmena gladly would embrace her doom.
But Phoebus' words demand a virgin's blood;
Shall I, a wife and mother, dare approach
His ſacred altar, an unhallow'd victim?
Thus, if I ſpeak or not, I ſtill am guilty,
My ſilence heav'n offends, my ſpeech the king.
TIMANTHES.
The king muſt know the ſecret of our nuptials:
All, all demands is now—for, O Iſmena,
This very hour perhaps Cherinthus brings
A rival to thy love—Cephiſa comes;
But now Demophoon urg'd me to receive
The Phrygian princeſs—but, be witneſs heav'n!
Not all the cruel policy of courts,
Not the ſtern mandates of a king and father,
Shall e'er diſſolve thoſe tender ties which love
Has form'd, and virtue ſanctifies.
ISMENA.
Alas!
What can it all avail! our union publiſh'd,
Thou know'ſt the ſentence of the law impends
On my devoted head.
TIMANTHES.
A monarch made,
A monarch can revoke the ſtern decree:
Demophoon, tho' ſevere, is ſtill a parent,
[15] His kind indulgence ſhall avert the ſtroke
That threats Iſmena.
ISMENA.
Rather let it come:
Too long, Timanthes, haſt thou ſacrific'd
Thy glory to Iſmena—O! reflect
How ill the name of Thracia's heir agrees
With ſecret nuptials and clandeſtine love.
Let me embrace my fate—I die with joy,
Since I, in death, can call Timanthes mine!
TIMANTHES.
O! fortune, wherefore did thy laviſh hand
Give my Iſmena every charm, yet place
Her virtues in the vale of private life?
But be it ſo—it reſts on me to amend
The partial error—Thrace, ſome future day,
With joy ſhall view her partner of my throne.
Farewell, my love, and let this fix'd aſſurance
Dwell in thy mind, and calm thy troubled thoughts:
Timanthes will be ever watchful o'er thee,
And hold thy peace far dearer than his own.
[Exeunt ſeverally.
END of the FIRST ACT.

ACT II.

[16]

SCENE, A ſea-port.

Enter CHERINTHUS, CEPHISA, and Attendants.

CEPHISA.

WHAT means this ſadneſs, prince? With ſilent gaze

You look and ſigh, and if with friendly ſpeech

I urge your converſe, when you ſeem prepar'd

To tell me much, your fault'ring tongue is mute.

Where is your wonted chearfulneſs? the grace

That ſeaſon'd your diſcourſe? Are you in Thrace

The ſame Cherinthus that I knew in Phrygia?

Or is it thus, with melancholy looks,

You Thracians to her lord conduct a bride?

CHERINTHUS.

If my afflictions bear a ſad preſage,

On me, fair princeſs, every evil fall:

My ſtars can little add to griefs like mine,

Nor breathes a wretch ſo hopeleſs as Cherinthus.

CEPHISA.

And claims Cephiſa then ſo little ſhare

In your eſteem! The time has been—

CHERINTHUS.

Forgive

This cold reſerve—and yet believe me, fair-one,

There is a ſomething here commands my ſilence.

CEPHISA.

[17]

'Tis true, I am a woman, and your ſecret

Were ill confided to our ſex's weakneſs.

I urge no further—lead me to the palace.

CHERINTHUS.

Yet hear—thoſe eyes like light'ning pierce my ſoul,

And all my firm reſolves are loſt before them.

O! turn, Cephiſa, and with gentler looks

Unbend thoſe brows, while trembling I confeſs,

'Tis thou haſt robb'd me of my peace—I gaze

With rapture on thy matchleſs charms; I own

My love is fruitleſs all, that theſe fond wiſhes

Would graſp they know not what: I know that death

Alone can end my pains.

CEPHISA.

What means Cherinthus!

CHERINTHUS.

I knew too well I ſhould offend—And yet

The faults of love—

CEPHISA.

Forbear—I'll hear no more.—

Is this the brother of Timanthes? This

The prince deputed by the Thracian king?

And is it thus Cherinthus thinks to guard

That faith a brother and a father claim?

CHERINTHUS.

I own my crime—I know that every tie

Of ſon and brother ſhould forbid my paſſion.

Why was I only ſingled by Demophoon,

To bring thee to Timanthes? Could I view

Thy charms, and yet reſiſt?—I ſaw and lov'd.

Each day beheld me near thee, while the name

Of kinſman gave a licenſe to my tongue:

[18] Nor did this name alone deceive the world,

I was deceiv'd myſelf—that love, which made

Me ſigh for ever for Cephiſa's preſence,

Appear'd but duty, and a thouſand times

I thought to paint the affections of a brother,

While my too eager ſpeech betray'd my own.

CEPHISA.

[aſide.]

Alas! 'twas not in vain—Cephiſa too

Perceiv'd a ſomething ſhe would fain diſown.

CHERINTHUS.

And yet ſometimes I felt a flattering hope:

Methought I oft obſerv'd a tender ſigh

Steal from thy breaſt, view'd in thy eyes a ſoftneſs

That ſeem'd much more than friendſhip—

CEPHISA.

Hold, Cherinthus,

Thou doſt begin to abuſe my eaſy nature.

It ill befits the daughter of Nicanor,

Affianc'd to Timanthes, heir of Thrace,

To hear with calmneſs theſe injurious vows,

At once deſtructive to her peace and fame.

CHERINTHUS.

Forgive me, princeſs, and I will obey;

Thou ſhalt no more reproach my daring love,

Injurious to thy glory—Spite of all

The pangs that rend my heart, conviction's force

Dwells in thy words, and I'll no more offend.

No, I will ſtrive to wear the face of joy,

And kindly bleſs my happier brother's fate.

Enter TIMANTHES.

Welcome, Timanthes, to thy native land,

Fame, the loud harbinger of thy approach,

[19] Has rous'd each Thracian ſon to hail thy preſence,

And I but join the common voice.

TIMANTHES.

Receive

In this embrace my thanks—but ſay, Cherinthus,

Is this the royal fair one who forſakes

Her country's gentle ſeat to viſit Thrace,

And with her beauties gild our rougher clime?

CHERINTHUS.

It is—Behold, while others with applauſe

Congratulate thy fortune, what a treaſure

Thy brother brings, to give thee every bleſſing

That love and beauty can beſtow.—

TIMANTHES.

Her looks

Beſpeak perfection—Let Timanthes then,

Imperial virgin, greet thy ſave arrival

From Phrygia's happy ſhore—Vouchſafe awhile,

Cherinthus, to retire apart—my thoughts

Revolve ſome ſecret of import, that claims

The princeſs' ear alone.

CHERINTHUS.

I ſhall obey.

What can this mean? But wherefore aſk, or what

Avails their converſe to the loſt Cherinthus?

[walks aſide.

TIMANTHES.

How ſhall Timanthes, beauteous princeſs, dreſs

His thoughts in apt expreſſion? I ſhould now

Pour forth the raptures of a heart, decreed

To excellence like yours—but O! there is

Fatality in man, and oft when Heaven

Holds out an unexpected bleſſing to us,

Some myſtery forbids—

CEPHISA.

[20]

What would the prince?

Let not Timanthes ſeek the low diſguiſe

Of art, the refuge of ignoble minds,

But boldly, as he meets his foes in battle,

Speak out his ſecret ſoul.

TIMANTHES.

The ſtateſman oft

Joins with the ſpecious plea of public good

Two hearts averſe: our parents have decreed

An union to thyſelf perhaps ungrateful.

Thy virtues might demand the nobleſt heart;

But fate forbids us ever to unite:

There is a bar which nothing can ſurmount:

My father knows it not, nor muſt I ſpeak it;

Refuſe, refuſe me then, enlarge my faults,

And thus preſerve thy fame, my peace and life!

CEPHISA.

'Tis well—my lord—

TIMANTHES.

I ſee the conſcious pride

Of greatneſs riſing on thy cheek—my preſence

But adds to your diſpleaſure—my Cherinthus,

The care be thine, with every mark of honour,

Such as may ſuit her ſtation and deſert,

To lead from hence the princeſs to the palace.

[Exit.

CEPHISA.

What have I heard! Is this the boaſted youth

Whom fame extols for gallantry and arms!

And is it thus he treats a virgin, ſprung

From Phrygia's ſcepter'd kings!—neglected! Heavens!

And ſhall I tamely bear this outrage?

CHERINTHUS.

[21]

coming forward.

Princeſs,

What indignation riſes in your breaſt?

Your looks are chang'd—has then my brother—

CEPHISA.

Yes,

I ſee your mutual purpoſe to betray me:

Was it for this I left my native land,

Left the lov'd arms of an indulgent father,

To meet with inſult on this foreign ſhore!

To bear unmov'd the injury that waits

Cherinthus' paſſion, and his brother's ſcorn?

But if Demophoon—

Enter ADRASTUS.

ADRASTUS.

To the fair Cephiſa,

Our ſovereign wiſhes health; the Thracian palace,

Adorn'd with every pomp, expects your preſence;

Demophoon now, as annual rites require,

Sequeſter'd with the prieſts till morning dawn,

Invokes the powers divine; mean while he ſends

By me to pay the tribute of reſpect

Your rank demands, and to conduct you hence

Where ſuppliant crowds attend with duteous zeal,

To pay their homage to their future queen.

CEPHISA.

I thank thee, lord—Cephiſa hopes no leſs

From great Demophoon and her father's friend.

Cherinthus, let us hence—but ſtill remember

Thy plighted word; for know, whatever chance

Subjects Cephiſa to unlook'd-for inſult,

Yet nothing from her mind can e'er eraſe,

Such thoughts as fit the daughter of a king.

[Exeunt.

[22]

SCENE changes to the garden.

ISMENA

alone.

What would my fate!—But now Mathuſius bade me

Prepare for flight—and whither muſt I fly?

What region will receive forlorn Iſmena

To end her wretched life!—O! my Olinthus,

Muſt I forſake thy innocence, forſake

My much-lov'd lord without one parting look!

I ſicken at the thought—

Enter TIMANTHES.

TIMANTHES.

What new diſtreſs

Hangs o'er my love! tho' diſtant from thy ſight

My ſympathizing ſpirit mourn'd with thee,

And whiſper'd that thy ſorrow claim'd my aid.

ISMENA.

O! no—thy cares are vain—leave, leave me then

Alone to periſh—the big tempeſt ſwells

That ſoon muſt hide me from thy ſight for ever.

TIMANTHES.

What means Iſmena!

ISMENA.

I muſt quit Timanthes,

Mathuſius warns me hence—but now he left me,

Some dreadful purpoſe labouring in his breaſt;

Yet 'ere we part, to thy paternal care

I here commend my child; for me embrace him,

Give him this kiſs, and when his ripening age

Can feel compaſſion, tell him all my ſtory.

TIMANTHES.

It muſt not be—Timanthes with the wings

Of love ſhall fly, o'ertake thy fleeting peace

And bring her back to her forſaken home.

[23] Soon as the morning dawns I'll ſeek the king,

With filial reverence claſp his honour'd knees:

Doubt not, my love, but all ſhall yet be well!

Enter MATHUSIUS.

MATHUSIUS.

My daughter, let us haſte—art thou Timanthes,

Son of Demophoon? Let me gaze awhile;

Theſe features once beſpoke thee kind and brave,

Till now I ever held thee ſuch—but ſay,

Is not injuſtice ſtamp'd upon thy nature,

And all thy father in thy heart—O! no,

Thou'rt ſtill the ſame—yes, I had ſought thee, prince,

Thy old Mathuſius, once rever'd, in thee

Had veſted every hope—but now 'tis paſt—

ISMENA.

Alas! my father, muſt Iſmena then

For ever load a parent's breaſt with anguiſh?

Am I th' unhappy cauſe—

MATHUSIUS.

Now hear, Timanthes,

And if thou ever held'ſt Mathuſius dear,

Thy generous breaſt will feel a father's pangs,

A father, whom the rage of tyrant power

Purſues to ruin—O! my child, my child!

TIMANTHES.

Mathuſius, ſpeak—Has then Iſmena's name

Been drawn to-morrow's victim?

MATHUSIUS.

No—Demophoon

Has doom'd her life a guiltleſs ſacrifice

Without the ſentence of the fatal urn.

TIMANTHES.

Condemn'd to die, the lots of death undrawn.

All-powerful Gods!—

ISMENA.

[24]

O ſir! weep not for me,

I merit not the tears that ſtain thoſe cheeks,

Too deep they enter here—no, let me bear

Affliction's preſſure, till the fainting ſenſe

Sink with its anguiſh, ſo I may, retir'd

From mortal eyes, indulge my griefs alone,

Nor bend that hoary head to earth with ſorrow.

TIMANTHES.

It cannot be—Mathuſius, thou 'rt deceiv'd—

How couldſt thou kindle thus the king's reſentment

Againſt her helpleſs life?

MATHUSIUS.

Becauſe I ſought

To exclude Iſmena from the lots of fate,

Becauſe I durſt produce his own example:

But now I met him near the temple's porch,

Encompaſs'd by the prieſts; with all the warmth

Of a fond father trembling for his child,

I urg'd, entreated—but in vain—the king

Beheld me with an haughty eye; enrag'd

My tongue reproach'd the monarch's partial voice

That to his ſubjects, prodigal of death,

Gave to the bloody knife our Thracian virgins,

While kept at diſtance from the ſuffering land,

His own Arſene ſhunn'd the fatal ſtroke.

ISMENA.

I tremble for th' event—not for myſelf,

But thee, Iſmena fears—Ah! wherefore, ſir,

Would you for me raſhly incenſe a power

Which ſovereigns, ever jealous, ſtill defend?

What anſwer made the king?

MATHUSIUS.

His indignation

Repreſs'd within himſelf, found little vent

[25] In words—at length—"preſumptuous man, (he cry'd)

"Soon ſhalt thou feel that ſtill Demophoon knows

"How to avenge affronted majeſty."

Then turning from me ſwift, the temple gates

Receiv'd and ſhut him from my ſight—ſince when

I've heard that ſecret orders have been given

To ſeize Iſmena.

TIMANTHES.

Ha!—direct me Heaven,

What now befits Timanthes—

[Aſide.

ISMENA.

Yes, it dawns!

The work of fate now opens to my view,

And all muſt be reveal'd—be firm, my ſoul,

And nobly meet the trial.

[Aſide.

TIMANTHES.

Is it poſſible!

In this extreme what courſe remains?

MATHUSIUS.

Beſide

The clifted rock, mann'd with a choſen few

And truſty ſervants, rides a bark prepar'd

With ſecret care, that will convey us hence,

To ſome far diſtant hoſpitable clime,

Where 'tis not criminal to be a father.

TIMANTHES.

It muſt not be—O ſir!—

MATHUSIUS.

What means Timanthes?

TIMANTHES.

Iſmena muſt not quit the Thracian ſhore—

MATHUSIUS.

Not quit the Thracian ſhore!—now by yon' powers

That ſit in judgment o'er a father's wrongs,

[26] No human breath ſhall ſtay us—haſte, my daughter,

Prepare this inſtant to depart—

TIMANTHES.

Diſtraction!

And ſhall I then permit—Mathuſius, hear,

Urge not my temper further—well thou know'ſt

My ſoul has ever held thee as her beſt,

Her earlieſt guide—if I oppoſe thee now—

MATHUSIUS.

Is this thy love? Would'ſt thou forbid a father

To ſave his only child from cruel death?

TIMANTHES.

O no!—thou canſt not tell how dear I prize

Her ſafety here—come danger in her worſt,

Her uglieſt form, this breaſt ſhall meet the dart

That threats Iſmena.

MATHUSIUS.

We but waſte the time

That, with deſtruction wing'd, unheeded flies:

Away, my daughter—

TIMANTHES.

Not th' united force

Of earth ſhall bear her hence—

MATHUSIUS.

Nay then, the ſword

Shall vindicate the rights a father claims.

ISMENA.

Hold, ſir, and hear Iſmena—O! Mathuſius,

Doſt thou not ſee ſome ſecret labouring here

Too big for ſpeech—thou claim'ſt a father's right,

And ſacred is that claim, but yet beware,

Nor let the haſty ſword, with thoughtleſs rage,

Invade a right more ſacred than your own.

The prince—how ſhall I ſpeak?

MATHUSIUS.

[27]

What new alarm

Runs thro' my ſoul!—Is't poſſible!

TIMANTHES.

My father,

For ſuch thou art—think not thy breaſt can feel

Severer anguiſh for Iſmena's danger

Than what a huſband feels—

MATHUSIUS.

Her huſband!

TIMANTHES.

Yes,

She is, ſhe is my wife—then judge, Mathuſius,

If I could bear, without the ſharpeſt pang,

To ſee her torn for ever from my ſight.

MATHUSIUS.

Ah! prince, what haſt thou done! thy cruel love

Has fill'd the meaſure of Mathuſius' woes.

Thou moſt unkind! Is this the recompenſe,

Awaits my ſuffering age?—Unhappy girl!

To tye the fatal knot that ends in death!

ISMENA.

Here proſtrate at your feet, permit me now

To own the fault exceſs of love inſpir'd:

And yet you can forgive; for if I read

Thoſe looks aright, reſentment dwells not there:

Nor will I plead the virtues of the prince,

Tho' theſe, my lord, were oft your lip's fond theme,

While under covert of yon' arching ſhade,

I drank, with greedy ears, his grateful praiſe.

MATHUSIUS.

No more, my child—O! I forgive thee all—

But dangers thicken round, theſe nuptials known,

[28] The rigid law ſhall ſeal thee for deſtruction,

And mock a father's ſorrows.

TIMANTHES.

No, Mathuſius,

By every future hour of hop'd-for peace,

My life ſhall be her ſafe-guard.

Enter Officer and Guard.

Officer.

Pardon, ſir,

If, with reluctance, I obey the charge

My ſovereign gives—Guards, bear Iſmena hence.

MATHUSIUS.

What means this violence?

ISMENA.

The lot is caſt;

Come every ſpirit that has fir'd my ſex,

Thro' the long records of ſucceeding time,

To dare, beyond the ſoftneſs of our kind,

Now ſteel my thoughts—my fortune claims it all!

So may'ſt thou own, my father, though one fond

Unguarded hour betray'd my yielding ſoul,

Yet ſhall the ſufferings of this awful day,

The little ſpan of life that fate allows,

Atone for every error.

TIMANTHES.

Death to hear!

Unhand her, ſlaves!

MATHUSIUS.

Age has not yet unnerv'd

This arm ſo far—

Officer.

[29]

Forbear—if either moves

To give her aid, this dagger drinks her blood—

TIMANTHES.

Inhuman villain! hold—

Officer.

The royal mandate

Shall juſtify my deeds—Away.

ISMENA.

Yet ſtay,

A moment's pauſe—ſtill, ſtill, the woman here

Is ſtruggling in my breaſt—my father—Oh—

I dare no further—

[looking at Timanthes.

MATHUSIUS.

Speak—

ISMENA.

Think not, Mathuſius,

Though black adverſity now folds me round,

That aught of anguiſh for myſelf can ſhake

Thy daughter's mind—No! I could bear it all!

But when we view the pangs of thoſe we love,

The firmeſt temper ſhrinks, and even the tear

Of weakneſs then is virtue—Gracious heaven!

Protect, defend—I would, but muſt not ſpeak—

Ye powers! who read my thoughts, ſupply the prayer

I cannot utter, and, whate'er her doom,

At leaſt, in thoſe ſhe loves, preſerve Iſmena!

[Exit guarded.

TIMANTHES, MATHUSIUS.

TIMANTHES.

O! give me patience, Gods!

MATHUSIUS.

[30]

Earth opens not,

Nor light'nings fly to puniſh ſuch injuſtice!

And ſhall we ſay Jove watches o'er mankind!

Timanthes, ſpeak—for we are now united

In bands of wretchedneſs.

TIMANTHES.

Go, good Mathuſius,

And learn the place to which they bear Iſmena,

For ſhould I ſtrive in vain to appeaſe my father,

Yet love ſhall point the way—

MATHUSIUS.

No—every hope

Is now extinct, and black deſpair ſhuts up

The gloomy proſpect.

TIMANTHES.

Can the ſon in vain

Plead with a father for his life, his all!

O! 'tis a cauſe will call down every ſoft

Propitious power that feels for human ſufferings,

To heal the anguiſh of a parent's breaſt,

To calm a lover's and a huſband's pains,

To arreſt the hand of fate, and ſave Iſmena!

END of the SECOND ACT.

ACT III.

[31]

SCENE, A royal Apartment.

Enter DEMOPHOON and CEPHISA.

DEMOPHOON.

RETURN to Phrygia, princeſs? Canſt thou aſk

Abruptly thus to bid adieu to Thrace?

While now Timanthes with preſaging hope

Anticipates the hour, decreed to bleſs

The prince and lover, when this ſolemn day

Shall paſs, whoſe riſing light now faintly ſtrikes

The ſacred laurels, where the temple's grove

Receives the dawn.

CEPHISA.

Believe me, my reſolves

Are ſuch as ſuit my ſex and rank; the name

Of virgin and of princeſs both require me

To quit the Thracian palace—for Timanthes

No longer urge—

DEMOPHOON.

I can forgive thy anger:

Nurs'd in the pleaſures of the Phrygian court,

A Thracian's manners may be harſh to thee:

Wonder not then if ſo Timanthes ſeems,

Inur'd to rugged arms; be thine the glory

To teach him firſt the flowery path that leads

To the calm dwelling of domeſtic ſweets:

What cannot charms like thine?—yes, fair Cephiſa,

Thoſe eyes ſhall thaw the ice around his heart,

And warm the youth to unexperienc'd love.

CEPHISA.

[32]

My lord, it cannot be—as ſoon this morn

That ſpreads the veil of ſorrow o'er the land,

Might raiſe each heart with gladneſs, as Cephiſa

Find happineſs in Thrace—at thy command,

And thine alone, the ſhips can quit the port,

To bear me back to my paternal land:

Give orders then to looſe the bark, whoſe ſails

Muſt waft me hence for ever.

DEMOPHOON.

Think not, princeſs,

Demophoon would detain thee while thy thoughts

Reviſit Phrygia; yet permit me now

To ſay I hop'd far other from the daughter

Of him, whoſe wiſh'd alliance promis'd all

An anxious king and parent could demand.

But yet, whate'er thy wiſh, till the next ſun,

Thou canſt not hence; no veſſel from the port

Preſumes to rear the maſt, or ſpread the ſail,

Till this ſad day declines.

CEPHISA.

Since now the law

Forbids to quit the realm, I muſt ſubmit

To breathe the air of Thrace—yet I reſpect

The friend of great Nicanor, but remember

My father's honour and my own; nay more,

Demophoon's urges me to leave a court,

Where every moment's voluntary ſtay

Inſults my ſex's rights, and ſtains my glory.

[Exit.

DEMOPHOON

alone.

Ha! whence is this? ſure ſomething lurks beneath

That yet I know not—I remember now,

When firſt I nam'd the princeſs, that my ſon

[33] Heard with reluctance—ſhould he diſobey—

A father's juſt reſentment—but no more,

It cannot be—I am alarm'd too ſoon.

Enter TIMANTHES.

TIMANTHES.

Where is my king!

DEMOPHOON.

Timanthes, thou art come

In happy time—

TIMANTHES.

Dread ſir, permit your ſon,

To ſue for grace and pardon—

DEMOPHOON.

Say, for whom

Doſt thou intreat?

TIMANTHES.

For an unhappy victim?

One, whoſe misfortune is her only crime,

The daughter of Mathuſius—

DEMOPHOON.

'Tis too late,

Her doom is ſeal'd—

TIMANTHES.

Grant to your ſuppliant ſon

Her guiltleſs life!—

DEMOPHOON.

And dar'ſt thou ſtill preſume

To name her? If thou valu'ſt ought my love,

Forego this vain requeſt—

TIMANTHES.

Alas! my father,

I cannot now obey you—O! if ever

I have deſerv'd a parent's tenderneſs,

[34] If with a boſom ſeam'd with honeſt ſcars,

I have return'd a conqueror to your arms,

If e'er my triumphs in the glorious field,

Have drawn the tear of pleaſure from your eyes,

Releaſe, forgive Iſmena—loſt, unhappy,

She has no friend but me to plead her cauſe!

And ſhall ſhe periſh!—think you view her now

In early bloom of life, who never knew

The thoughts of guilt, ſtretch'd on the fatal altar

In all the pangs of ſuffering—think you ſee

The life-warm blood guſh from her tender breaſt,

Hear the laſt accents from her trembling lips,

Behold her dying eyes—but thou art pale!

Why look'ſt thou thus upon me!—O! my father!

I ſee, I ſee the gracious ſigns of pity;

Do not repent, my lord—indulge it ſtill,

For never will I quit theſe ſacred feet

Till thou haſt given the word to ſpare Iſmena.

DEMOPHOON.

Riſe, prince—Almighty powers! what muſt I think

That with ſuch tenderneſs thou nam'ſt Iſmena.

Yet mark how far my fond indulgence yields;

On one condition I recall her ſentence:

Iſmena yet may live, but if the father,

Impell'd by love, forgets his juſt reſentment,

Let not the ſon forget the ſacred ties

Of gratitude and duty—

TIMANTHES.

Never, never

Timanthes ſhall forget them, every hour

To come ſhall bleſs your goodneſs for this pardon,

Which life itſelf were cheaply given to parchaſe.

DEMOPHOON.

No, my dear ſon, my future peace and thine

Aſk but one ſacrifice, and all is well:

[35] What haſt thou done to offend the Phrygian princeſs?

Learn to reſpect my choice in fair Cephiſa—

Have I not felt compaſſion for thy weakneſs?

Do thou preſerve my honour—think, Timanthes,

Nor let the breath of rumour taint my name;

Then, let us ſeek Cephiſa, there, my ſon,

Inſtruct thy lips to deprecate the anger

I fear thy ſcorn has juſtly rais'd—to-morrow

We'll to the temple, thither ſhalt thou lead

Thy beauteous bride, and at the altar there,

At once before th' atteſting Gods fulfill

What juſtice claims from thee and from Demophoon.

TIMANTHES.

My lord, I cannot—

DEMOPHOON.

Prince, thou yet haſt heard

The father only; force me not to employ

The king's authority.

TIMANTHES.

Sacred alike,

I hold the dictates of the king and father,

But love diſdains compulſion—

DEMOPHOON.

In the heart

Of ſubjects, love may rule with ſovereign ſway;

But in a prince, on whom a nation's weal

Depends, it ill beſeems to ſacrifice

The good of thouſands to the ſelfiſh weakneſs

That better fits a cottage than a throne.

TIMANTHES.

Hard ſtate of royalty! if on ſuch terms

Timanthes muſt be king, take back, ye powers!

The dignity ye gave—can Heaven decree,

[36] That public virtue never ſhould reſide

Where the ſoft paſſions dwell? Muſt he, whoſe cares

Inceſſant labour for the good of others,

Still want that happineſs he gives to all?

DEMOPHOON.

And dar'ſt thou dreſs thy diſobedience thus

In reaſon's garb, to oppoſe my ſovereign will?

Hence every partial weakneſs—juſt reſentment

Points out the way to reach thy ſtubborn heart:

This darling of thy ſoul, Iſmena—ſhe

Shall pay the forfeit—now I ſee full well

What caus'd thy coldneſs—ſhe ſhall die.—

TIMANTHES.

O heaven!

DEMOPHOON.

Away!

TIMANTHES.

Yet hear me, ſir,—

DEMOPHOON.

I've heard too much!

This day Iſmena dies—

TIMANTHES.

Forbid it heaven!

Now by yon ſkies—

DEMOPHOON.

Still doſt thou linger here?

TIMANTHES.

I go—but ſhould ſhe fall—this deſperate hand—

DEMOPHOON.

Gods! doſt thou threaten!

TIMANTHES.

Force me not, my father,

To paſſion's wild extreme—would'ſt thou preſerve

[37] The peace of thy unhappy ſon, preſerve

His fame, his all—revoke Iſmena's doom—

He anſwers not—that look confirms her death—

Farewell—but whither, whither ſhall I fly

To ſhun myſelf?—Iſmena's image ſtill

Hangs on my ſight, and haunts my tortur'd ſoul!

[Exit.

DEMOPHOON

alone.

Where, where, Demophoon, is the mighty power

A monarch boaſts, when all inſult thee thus?

'Tis time to aſſert my rights—Adraſtus!

Enter ADRASTUS.

Haſte,

Give orders that the victim be prepar'd

This inſtant for the ſacrifice.—

ADRASTUS.

Already,

Iſmena, veſted in the robes of death,

Expects the fatal hour.—I heard the prieſts

Exhort her with becoming fortitude

To yield her life a ſacrifice for Thrace,

While with a down-caſt look the virgin ſtood

In all the majeſty of ſilent woe;

And now they wait thy laſt command alone

To bear her to the temple.

DEMOPHOON.

Her misfortune

Excites my pity; but her father's bold

Rebellious inſults on my crown and fame,

My own repoſe, the glory of my realm,

Demand her death—the weal of Thrace requires

Timanthes' marriage with the Phrygian princeſs,

But this Timanthes never will compleat

While ſhe ſurvives—this obſtacle remov'd,

[38] The flame of ſtubborn love ſhall ſoon decay,

And the raſh youth, who now condemns my power,

Shall yield obedience to a parent's will.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, An open part of the city.

Enter TIMANTHES and MATHUSIUS.

MATHUSIUS.

And canſt thou then partake Mathuſius' fortune,

A willing exile from thy father's kingdom?

Think, think, my ſon, when thou ſhalt wander hence,

An obſcure fugitive, will then Iſmena,

With chaſte endearments, from thy mind eraſe

Remembrance of the prince? Will not the phantom

Of royalty ſtill haunt thy lonely hours?

Wilt thou not then regret paternal wealth

Abandon'd, and a ſcepter loſt?

TIMANTHES.

No more—

My wife and ſon are dearer far than all:

Each other good has no intrinſic worth;

Opinion makes it great; the tender feelings

Of father, huſband, are not bred by cuſtom,

Or early thoughts inſtill'd from infancy:

The ſeeds are in ourſelves, are with us born,

Grow with our life, and but with life expire.

MATHUSIUS.

But how to ſet her free? Is ſhe not now

Encompaſs'd by Demophoon's guards?

TIMANTHES.

The care

Be mine to elude their utmoſt vigilance:

Aſſiſted by ſome choſen friends, I'll bear

Iſmena ſafe from danger.

MATHUSIUS.

[39]

Mighty powers!

Direct our flight—each moment that detains us

I'm on the rack of doubt—O! prince, remember

To thee alone I truſt my all, my laſt

Remains of ebbing life.

TIMANTHES.

Haſte then, Mathuſius,

Aſcend thy bark, and near yon rocks, that riſe

Right of the port, expect my coming, thither

With all the ſpeed of love I'll bear Iſmena!—

[Exeunt ſeverally.

SCENE, a view of an arch leading from the city, through which the proceſſion for the ſacrifice appears; firſt the guards, who range themſelves on each ſide the ſtage; then a train of prieſts and virgins: Iſmena, in white veſtments, ſupported by two virgins, advances towards the front of the ſtage, while the following words are ſung; the Muſic compoſed by Mr. Arnold.

CHORUS.Hail God of light! whoſe chearing ray
Diſpels the gloom, reveals the day,
And glads the univerſe with all-creating ſway!

SONG, by a PRIEST.To him the pow'r, whoſe awful will
Trembling mortals muſt fulfill,
To him the dreadful altar rear,
And ſwell the notes till Phoebus hear!

CHORUS.

Phoebus hear!

[40]SONG, by a VIRGIN.

to Iſm.]

Sad victim! learn the ſtroke to brave

That renders Heav'n the life it gave,

And ſheds thy blood a land to ſave!

CHORUS.

Hear and ſave!

ISMENA.

Yet, yet, Iſmena, drain the bitter dregs

Of ſorrow's cup—but ſome few painful moments

And all may then be well!—each ſtep I tread

Leads me ſtill nearer to the fated land

Where I ſhall reſt in peace—but, O! ſupport

My fainting ſenſe—'tis he! what adverſe power

Directs him hither, in this hour of terror,

To ſhake my firm reſolves!

Enter TIMANTHES.

TIMANTHES.

Eyes! can it be!

Iſmena, ſpeak—what means this dreadful pomp!

ISMENA.

At length 'tis paſt, and ruthleſs death demands

Its victim—yes, Timanthes, we muſt part,

Demophoon has decreed my fate—even now

Theſe miniſters of heaven receiv'd the mandate.

My ſoul ſeem'd more than half releas'd, but thou

Haſt call'd her back to life—this meeting wakes

A thouſand tender thoughts—

TIMANTHES.

Ceaſe, ceaſe, Iſmena,

It wakes diſtraction—ſhall I thus behold thee

Torn from my hopes—no firſt—

ISMENA.

[41]

Alas! what means

Timanthes—

TIMANTHES.

Never whilſt I live, this ſword

That oft has mow'd my way thro' ſanguine fields,

Shall ſleep inglorious—

[lays his hand on his ſword.

ISMENA.

Ah! what wild deſpair

Unmans thy better ſenſe—thou wilt but ruſh

On certain ruin, nor preſerve my life.

TIMANTHES.

It ſhall be ſo—farewell!

[going.

ISMENA.

Some dreadful purpoſe

Hangs on thy brow—yet hear me—

TIMANTHES.

Fate cuts ſhort

Each precious moment—ſtill I can command

A few but truſty friends, whoſe blood will flow

For their Timanthes—go then—ſeek the temple,

I'll ſave thee yet or die!

ISMENA.

Forbid it, heaven!

Be calm again—

TIMANTHES.

Be calm!—Impoſſible!

Is there a power on earth—let ruin come,

If midſt the wreck one treaſure ſtill is mine!

[Exit.

ISMENA,

Prieſts, Virgins, and Guards.

Forbear—he heeds me not—Eternal powers!

Preſerve him ſtill—for me, my mind has fix'd

[42] Its laſt reſolve—'tis death, and death alone

Shall quickly cloſe the ſcene, and ere the prieſt

Strike in my breaſt the conſecrated ſteel,

This dagger ſhall prevent the unhallow'd offering!

So ſhall I fall a ſpotleſs wife, nor ſtain

The ſacred altar with forbidden blood!

Yet hear me, Phoebus, ſtill defend Timanthes,

And guard him 'midſt this whirlwind of the ſoul!

Enter CEPHISA and Attendant.

CEPHISA.

Look, look, Clemene, view a ſight to move

The breaſt that never felt the touch of ſorrow:

Behold yon' maid, this day decreed to death,

Yet, midſt this awful pomp, ſee with what grace

She moves, while fortitude and beauty join'd,

Proclaim her more than woman—but obſerve,

She ſees us and approaches.

ISMENA.

Pardon, princeſs,

But if I err not I behold Cephiſa.

CEPHISA.

I am indeed Cephiſa.

ISMENA.

Fame that ſpeaks

Thy virtues, tells me, that affliction never

Will paſs unpity'd by thy tender breaſt.

CEPHISA.

My ſympathizing heart!—Unhappy maid!

What would'ſt thou? ſpeak.

ISMENA.

The fortune of Iſmena

Who has not known? my life will ſoon have run

Its race of grief, this pomp proclaims me near

[43] The wiſh'd-for goal, where the freed ſoul ſhall leave

Her cumberous chains—I go prepar'd to die,

Nor deprecate my fate—not for myſelf

I plead, but for the poor diſtreſs'd Timanthes!

To guard my life he courts his own deſtruction▪

If e'er th' intreaties of the dying move,

Still let him find in you a kind protectreſs,

Prevent his rage, or O! procure his pardon

For all the frantic deeds of wild deſpair.

CEPHISA.

Ill-fated virgin! canſt thou, with the ſhade

Of cruel death already compaſs'd round,

Forgetful of thyſelf, in generous care,

Dwell on another's ſafety.

ISMENA.

Search not, princeſs,

Too deep my boſom's woe—but if thy goodneſs

Shall mediate with the king—to avert thoſe evils

Whoſe only fear now weighs me down to earth,

The bleſſings of a wretch, whoſe lateſt breath

By thee ſhall leave its care-worn breaſt in peace,

Attend thy gentle ſteps!

CEPHISA.

Doubt not, Iſmena,

But every good Cephiſa can obtain,

Shall ſooth thy parting hour—I'll ſeek Cherinthus,

He, with a brother's warmeſt tendereſt zeal,

Shall calm the ungovern'd fury of Timanthes,

While I, on his behalf, intreat the king.

ISMENA.

Then all is well—and now I've not a thought

That here detains my flight—farewell! for ever—

[44] And every happineſs to me deny'd,

Be doubled on thy head—lead to the temple.

[Exeunt Cephiſa and Attendant.

RECITATIVE by a PRIEST.

Now ſlowly lead the ſolemn train

To reach the grove and hallow'd ſane!

Here Iſmena falls again into the order of proceſſion, while the prieſts and virgins ſing the following Chorus, as they go out:

CHORUS.Phoebus, to thee our choral hymn we raiſe,
Each year the land this ſad oblation pays;
O! ſave at length—deſcend with healing grace,
And from thy ſcourge relieve unhappy Thrace!

[Exeunt.

END of the THIRD ACT.

ACT IV.

[45]

SCENE, The palace.

CHERINTHUS, CEPHISA, meeting.

CHERINTHUS.

I'VE ſought, but cannot find him, yet I fear

The worſt from his ungovern'd warmth—but ſay,

Cephiſa, haſt thou pleaded with the king?

Could he refuſe thy ſuit?

CEPHISA.

Demophoon, fix'd

In his reſentment, with averted ear

Rejects the voice of pity—Hark! what noiſe!—

CHERINTHUS.

A ſecond louder yet—Ha! or I dream,

It thickens from the temple's hallow'd grove;

Adraſtus comes diſorder'd from the fane:

Gods! what preſaging horror chills my ſoul!

Enter ADRASTUS.

ADRASTUS.

Where's, where's the king?

CHERINTHUS.

What means Adraſtus! whence

Thoſe looks of fear!

ADRASTUS.

The rites were now prepar'd,

And nought was wanting but Demophoon's preſence,

When, with a deſperate band, the prince Timanthes

[46] Broke thro' the guards that watch'd the portal, ruſh'd

With daring footſteps thro' the ſacred dome,

Drove from the altar's foot the affrighted prieſts,

And ſeiz'd the victim—then while fell diſtraction

Storm'd with unlicens'd rage, I left the temple,

And flew to bear the tidings to the king,

Who beſt may quell this tumult.

[Exit.

CEPHISA.

Wherefore ſtands

Cherinthus thus, when now his brother's life

Hangs on the brink of fate?

CHERINTHUS.

Alas! Cephiſa,

I tremble at the thought—what ſhall I do?

Inſtruct me, heaven, I'll to you ſcene of terror,

And prove what yet remains to ſave Timanthes!

[Exeunt ſeverally.

SCENE, outſide view of a magnificent temple dedicated to Apollo; a flight of ſteps aſcending to it;—claſhing of ſwords is heard.—Iſmena, in the greateſt agitation, deſcends from the temple, and looks up towards Timan⯑thes with the utmoſt fear and aſtoniſhment.

ISMENA.

Where ſhall I fly!—Night, ſtretch thy blackeſt wings

And hide us from mankind!—O! horror, horror!

What demon urg'd this more than frantic deed!

My love—Timanthes—Is there yet in heaven

One pitying God that hears—on me, on me!

Now let your juſtice fall—but ſpare Timanthes!

O moſt unhappy!

TIMANTHES.

Where's my life?—Iſmena—

Claſp'd in a huſband's arms embrace thy ſafety.

ISMENA.

[47]

Alas! what haſt thou done?—

TIMANTHES.

Preſerv'd Iſmena!

ISMENA.

Preſerv'd! but how preſerv'd?

TIMANTHES.

Diſpel thy fears,

Time preſſes—let us haſte—but, ha! a guard

Advances yonder—where are now my friends?

All moulder'd from me—be it ſo—this ſword

Shall ſingly force thy way—

[going.

Enter CHERINTHUS.

Cherinthus here!

Art thou too arm'd againſt me!

CHERINTHUS.

O! Timanthes!

Know'ſt thou thy brother thus? Does this beſpeak

My enmity?

[embrace]

but haſte, deſtruction now

Purſues thee cloſe—I came to warn thee hence—

Demophoon is at hand.

TIMANTHES.

Thou art indeed

My friend, my brother—

CHERINTHUS.

Linger not—away,

While I remain to appeaſe the king's reſentment.

Then let us hence—

[going.

Enter on the other ſide DEMOPHOON, ADRASTUS, ORCANES, Prieſts and Guards.

DEMOPHOON.

Timanthes, ſtay!—

TIMANTHES.

[48]

My father!

DEMOPHOON.

Perſidious boy!

[Guards prepare to ſurround Iſmena.

TIMANTHES.

Let none preſume to approach,

My life ſhall guard Iſmena.

ISMENA.

Urge not thus

Thy fate, ſee heaven itſelf is arm'd againſt thee,

Then yield, in pity yield, and ſheath thy ſword.

DEMOPHOON.

Touch him not, guards, but give his madneſs way,

And let us ſee how far it can tranſport him!

Here let thy arm complete the glorious work

Thou haſt but now begun, here in this boſom

Plunge deep thy ſteel—thou canſt not tremble, traitor,

To pierce a father with the ſame right-hand

That in their fanes has dar'd inſult the Gods!

TIMANTHES.

Some friendly mountain, with o'erwhelming ſhade,

Hide me from light and from a father's preſence!

DEMOPHOON.

Why doſt thou pauſe! Behold I offer here

Thy greateſt foe defenceleſs to thy ſword:

Now glut the ſecret hatred, that ſo long

Has rankled in thy breaſt—let me be puniſh'd

For giving birth to thee—thou want'ſt but little

To gain the prize of envy'd wickedneſs,

The glorious height's in view—it but remains

To plunge thy weapon in a parent's heart,

And give thy bloody hand to her thou lov'ſt.

TIMANTHES.

[49]

O! hold, my father, hold—thoſe cruel words

More ſharp than daggers pierce my inmoſt ſoul!

Low at your feet behold this guilty wretch,

Behold this ſword, the miniſter of rage,

Now take it, ſearch this breaſt, and free your ſon

From life, but O! in pity ſpeak not thus!

DEMOPHOON.

Had I not proofs ſo glaring of his perfidy

He would ſeduce me—but I'll hear no more;

Yield, impious, yield, ſubmit thy rebel hands

To ſlaviſh manacles.

TIMANTHES.

[giving up his ſword]

Where, where, my friends,

Where are your chains? behold theſe ready hands,

For never ſhall the ſon refuſe to obey

The mandates of a juſt, offended father.

DEMOPHOON.

Lead back the victim to the inſulted God,

Ye holy prieſts, and ſlay her in my preſence.

[guards prepare to ſeize her, Timanthes ſnatches a ſword from one of them.]

TIMANTHES.

He dies that touches her—off, off, ye ſlaves!—

DEMOPHOON.

Diſarm him, guards!

[Timanthes is diſarmed.

TIMANTHES.

[To Iſmena.]

I can no more defend thee!

My king! my father!

DEMOPHOON.

Leave me!

ISMENA.

[50]

Yet Demophoon,

[...]ou may'ſt, without reſentment, hear the ſuit

Iſmena makes, who fearleſs thus ſteps forth

To welcome death—but O! forgive the prince,

Whoſe partial warmth to aſſiſt a wretch's cauſe,

The glorious weakneſs of heroic minds,

Impell'd him to this fatal deed—behold

What deep contrition now o'erſpreads his ſoul;

Hear then my laſt, my only prayer; complete

The unfiniſh'd rites—lead me to ſacrifice,

And bleſs me with oblivion!

DEMOPHOON.

I muſt praiſe

Thy generous fortitude—yes, hapleſs maid,

Did not the powers profan'd demand atonement

My pity yet might ſave—but duty here,

And fame forbid—conduct her to the temple.

TIMANTHES.

Shall it be ſaid I ſaw Iſmena ſlain!

At leaſt defer her fate—hear, reverend prieſts,

My father, hear—Iſmena cannot be

The victim now required—the ſacrifice

Would prove a profanation.

DEMOPHOON.

Ha! what mean'ſt thou!

TIMANTHES.

What does the god demand?

DEMOPHOON.

A virgin's blood.

TIMANTHES.

[51]

Iſmena muſt not then be led to death,

She's wedded—ſhe's a mother—ſhe's my wife!

DEMOPHOON.

What do I hear!—ſuſpend the rites, are theſe

The hopes I vainly form'd, perfidious ſon!

Reſpect'ſt thou thus divine and human laws,

And doſt thou comfort thus thy father's age?

ISMENA.

O mighty king! before your ſacred feet

Behold the cauſe of all—then from Timanthes

Avert your wrath, and let Iſmena bear

The puniſhment; 'tis I, and I alone

Am guilty—think that I, with artful wiles,

Seduc'd him firſt to love, that I enforc'd him

With frequent tears to theſe forbidden nuptials.

TIMANTHES.

Believe it not—ſhe did not—no, by heaven,

The deed was mine alone—with all the warmth

Of unremitted love I ſtill purſu'd her:

A thouſand times ſhe baniſh'd me her ſight,

As often I return'd—I vow'd, intreated,

But all in vain, till frantic with deſpair

I menac'd with a deſperate hand my life.

CHERINTHUS.

O! ſir, if e'er you held Cherinthus dear,

Let me now plead, nor plead in vain his pardon:

Extend your royal grace, and O! reſtore

To me a brother, to yourſelf a ſon.

DEMOPHOON.

What means this ſoftneſs that unmans me thus?

Away—

ISMENA.

[52]

Yet hear, my lord—methinks I ſee

Compaſſion dawning—O! look there, ſhall he,

Who once was all your joy, now fail to move

A father's pity?—Is he not your ſon?

Were not his infant years your darling hope?

Oft have I heard that, when in arms array'd,

You ſought the foe, you preſs'd his lips to yours,

And, when you came victorious from the field,

His tender kiſs firſt welcom'd your return.

DEMOPHOON.

No more—I feel the mingled agony

Of ſtruggling paſſions labouring in my breaſt!

But oh! Demophoon—think thou art a king,

And let that thought confirm thee—yes, my ſoul,

Be greatly wretched, but be greatly juſt!—

Orcanes, ſee that theſe be kept apart—

Cherinthus, let us hence, while to the temple

Theſe miniſters of heaven retire to appeaſe

The angry pow'rs!—

[Exeunt, on one ſide, Demophoon, Cherinthus, Adraſtus, and part of the guards, while the prieſts aſcend the ſteps, and enter the temple.]

Manent Timanthes, Iſmena, Orcanes, Guards.

ISMENA.

And muſt Iſmena prove

The bane of him whom more than life ſhe loves?

Is wretchedneſs the dowry which ſhe brings?

TIMANTHES.

What ſhall I anſwer thee?—I cannot ſpeak!

Theſe matchleſs proofs of unexampled love

But fix new ſcorpions here!—have I not murder'd

Thy peace, thy all—heap'd anguiſh and diſgrace

[53] On him who bred my youth to fame and greatneſs?

Good old Mathuſius!—

ISMENA.

There indeed I feel

Diſtreſs anew—my father!—

TIMANTHES.

Now elate

With hope, he waits your coming, but in vain

The ready bark expects its lovely freight,

Which, but for me, had hence been borne in ſafety.

'Twas I oppos'd your flight—I fondly thought

That even the ſtern Demophoon muſt behold

My lov'd Iſmena with a huſband's eyes.

ISMENA.

Forbear to chide thyſelf—and heaven forbid

My thoughts ſhould e'er reproach thee with the ſufferings

That fate decrees us—yet thy words have rais'd

New ſcenes of tenderneſs—methinks I ſee

Mathuſius, with a trembling heart, caſt round

His longing looks, while as the waſting hour

Declines, his fears increaſe, till his poor boſom

Throbs with an anxious father's ſharpeſt pangs.

TIMANTHES.

Think not I can forget his ſuffering age—

Some meſſenger ſhall to his ear convey

This day's events—Timanthes ſtill has friends

That love their prince, and feel for his misfortunes.

ORCANES.

My lord, Arſetes with diſpatch ſhall bear

Your tidings to Mathuſius, this the king

Forbids not, and whate'er Orcanes can,

Which duty may permit, attends your will.

TIMANTHES.

[54]

I thank thee, good Orcanes—lead me now

To obey the king's command—farewell, Iſmena,

And every guardian power deſcend to ſave us!

ISMENA.

Still, ſtill I fear, but ſtand prepar'd for all—

Yet one reflection ſheds a healing balm

On my torn mind, to think I may again

Hang on his reverend neck—O! thou whoſe goodneſs

Shall bear Timanthes' greeting to Mathuſius,

Hear now a daughter's voice—tell him, Iſmena

Waits with a fond impatience to behold

His venerable face, while join'd to mine

His cheeks ſhall mingle ſorrows, as his lips

Pronounce my bleſſing, and confirm my pardon,

For every anguiſh that his age endures.

TIMANTHES.

Thou brighteſt excellence—and ſhall not heaven

Protect that virtue it inſpir'd—my ſoul

Revives with hope—we yet may meet again—

Mathuſius ſhall return; who knows what here

His preſence may avail—all, all ſhall join

To win Demophoon's grace—once more, farewell

My life—Iſmena—

[embrace.

ISMENA.

Words are poor to ſpeak

The tumult ſtruggling here—let this ſpeak for me

And ſum up all in ſilence.

[embrace.

[Exit Timanthes guarded.

ISMENA,

Guards.

Yes—he's gone!

And at his parting reſolution now

Ebbs out apace, and in its ſtead a crowd

[55] Of tender images—wife! daughter! mother!

Olinthus O! that lov'd idea ſtill

Clings round my heart—but look Cephiſa comes

Once more to ſhare in ſufferings not her own!

Enter CEPHISA.

CEPHISA.

Art thou Iſmena, ſhe for whom ſo late

My boſom bled? And may I now believe

The mouth of fame that ſpeaks thee yet more wretched

Than when I ſaw thee led to death, that ſpeaks

Of ſecret nuptials, of a broken union,

And all the woes that wait thy hapleſs love?

ISMENA.

Alas! Cephiſa, I am one whom fortune

Has ſingled for her frowns, one whom in vain

The hand of goodneſs would preſerve from ruin;

Whom even Cephiſa's pity cannot ſave—

And yet too generous princeſs—

CEPHISA.

No, Iſmena,

As yet perhaps all is not loſt—the power

That watches o'er the unhappy ſtill may hear thee:

Demophoon has confeſs'd that nature's plea

Is ſtrongly for Timanthes, that his ſoul

Is rent with paſſions, while by turns the judge,

By turns the father ſways: the public eye

Confirm'd the wavering king; but now retir'd

Within himſelf, the parent muſt prevail.

Then ſpeak, O ſpeak, and caſe thy ſwelling heart,

Methinks I ſee diſtraction labouring there!

And as but now thy eyes encounter'd mine,

The tear, that ſtood till then ſuppreſt, guſh'd forth.

Give words to all the pangs a wife can feel,

To all a mother's anguiſh.

ISMENA.

[56]

Thou haſt touch'd me,

Too nearly there—I am indeed a mother,

Here, here his image dwells—and O! Cephiſa,

Could I but hope, and yet I wrong thy virtues,

We have a ſon, the dear, the only offſpring

Of our ill-omen'd loves—his innocence

Alas! is guiltleſs of his parent's deeds—

Could I but once more claſp him to my breaſt—

Thy goodneſs might intreat the king—

CEPHISA.

And will

Iſmena—yes, by all the virtuous grief

Of ſympathy, when for another's woe,

The generous boſom feels, I'll ſeek Demophoon,

And urge thy ſuit with friendſhip's kindeſt warmth.

Perhaps yet more—but reſt aſſur'd, Iſmena,

Thus much at leaſt Cephiſa can obtain

To give thy little fondling to thy arms,

To ſhed ſoft comfort on thy lonely hours,

To calm thy troubled breaſt and ſooth thy cares!

[Exit.

ISMENA,

Guards.

Conduct me now, where I may patient wait

What yet remains to ſuffer, while I count

Each tardy moment till Olinthus comes!

And he will come—Cephiſa has pronounc'd it—

My heart already meets him—lead me, friends,

To priſon!—no—the mind, ſtill uncontroul'd,

Knows no confinement—to a place of ſorrow!

O! no—that cannot be, when my Olinthus,

Love's deareſt pledge, ſhall ſmile away diſtreſs

Even in the dungeon's gloom—the thought alone

Wings my rapt ſoul, and lightens every pain!

[Exit guarded.

END of the FOURTH ACT.

ACT V.

[57]

SCENE, A priſon.

ISMENA ſeated, OLINTHUS aſleep by her, Attendant.

ISMENA.

ALREADY huſh'd in ſlumber!—O! ſleep on,

Dear guiltleſs babe! theſe rugged walls to thee,

Are as the coſtly arras that ſurrounds

A prince's chamber, and the ſolemn clank

Of theſe rude chains, is as the muſic's note

To lull thee to thy reſt—Where is my love,

My lord Timanthes?—Gracious powers! aſſiſt him,

And reconcile his ſoul to life and happineſs!

He muſt, he ſhall—but look, Ianthe, ſee

My poor Olinthus ſmiles—bleſt omen ſure

Of his lov'd father's fortune—happy ſtate,

Of childiſh innocence—ha! ſmile again!

Thou dear reſemblance of thy hapleſs ſire,

His little ſelf!—O! I could gaze for ever,

Till all the mother, 'wakening in my ſoul,

Would fix me down to life, to life and thee!

Enter DEMOPHOON and CEPHISA.

CEPHISA.

Behold, Demophoon, where reclin'd ſhe hangs

O'er her young ſon; the ſilent mourner weeps

In heart-felt anguiſh—claims not this the tear

Of ſympathizing ſorrow?

DEMOPHOON.

Yes, Cephiſa,

My breaſt has caught th' infection—and behold

Loſt in herſelf ſhe heeds us not, do thou

Speak comfort to her woes.

CEPHISA.

[58]

[going towards Iſmena.]

Iſmena—

ISMENA.

Ha!

Cephiſa!—like ſome guardian ſpirit ſtill

Thou nover'ſt round me—yet can grief retire,

Where goodneſs ſuch as thine will not purſue?

To thee a mother owes th [...] dear embrace!

But O! what do I ſee, Demophoon here!

Ah! [...], what means this viſit? Com'ſt thou now

To give my ſorrows peace? 'Tis but a moment

That [...]eve [...]s-life and wretchedneſs, and, Oh!

Would the ſame lips that ſeal Iſmena's doom,

Reſtore Timantnes to a father's love,

To life—to pardon—

[kneels.

DEMOPHOON.

Riſe—

ISMENA.

Still let me kneel,

'Tis for Timanthes—wherefore doſt thou turn

Thy face to hide the ſtarting tear—O! think,

You ſee him baniſh'd from a father's ſight,

A wretched priſoner—yet, you anſwer not—

O ſpeak!—Olinthus! look he wakes—Ianthe,

Haſte, bring him, he ſhall plead his father's cauſe:

Come, little ſuppliant, ſee, Demophoon, ſee,

Mark but his looks, they cannot plead in vain—

He is your own, whate'er his mother's guilt,

Your royal blood flows in his infant veins,

Think that in him your once-lov'd ſon implores,

And in Olinthus now behold Timanthes.

DEMOPHOON.

This is too much—O! riſe—my daughter riſe,

And in a parent's arms forget thy ſufferings.

ISMENA.

[59]

What do I hear!

DEMOPHOON.

Thy virtues have aton'd

For all that's paſt—Timanthes ſhall again

Be yours—Olinthus too—at once we'll bleſs

The huſband and the father.

CEPHISA.

Why, Iſmena,

Art thou ſtill ſilent—ſee'ſt thou not that heaven

Crowns every hope Cephiſa wiſh'd to raiſe?

And doſt thou yet diſtruſt the flattering ſcene?

Diſpel thy doubts—

ISMENA.

And ſhall I then forget

Theſe dreams of grief and terror!—let us leave

In theſe abodes the phantoms of deſpair,

And haſte to life, to rapture, and Timanthes!

[Exeunt.

SCENE, another part of the priſon.

TIMANTHES

alone.

Why ſhould we covet life? What are its charms,

Since all degrees are wretched? Every ſtate

Partakes of miſery: in infancy

We tremble at a frown; in ripening youth

We're made the ſport of fortune and of love:

In age we groan beneath the weight of years:

Now we're tormented with the thirſt of gain,

And now the fear of loſs: eternal war

The wicked with themſelves maintain; the juſt

With fraud and envy: all our ſchemes are ſhadow

Vain and illuſive as a ſick man's dream,

[60] And when we but begin at laſt to know

Our life [...]s whole folly, death cuts ſhort the ſcene.

Enter CHERINTHUS.

CHERINTHUS.

Where is my friend, my brother!

[embrace.

TIMANTHES.

Ha! Cherinthus,

Are theſe the tears due to thy brother's death,

When thus you preſs me with a laſt embrace?

CHERINTHUS.

What laſt embrace, what tears, what death, Timanthes!

Still live, and ſtill be bleſs'd—theſe hands ſhall looſe

Thy galling chains, theſe lips ſhall breathe the ſound

Of life and happineſs.

TIMANTHES.

Is't poſſible!

CHERINTHUS.

Our father now relents; the holy prieſts

With due libations have appeas'd the powers,

And purg'd the fane from ſacrilegious guilt:

A powerful advocate aſſerts thy cauſe—

TIMANTHES.

What tongue will plead for me, a wretched outcaſt

Of heaven and earth!

CHERINTHUS.

Cephiſa—

TIMANTHES.

Ha! Cephiſa!

She whom my ſcorn offended!

CHERINTHUS.

Not alone

For thee ſhe pleads—She pleads Iſmena's cauſe—

TIMANTHES.

[61]

For my Iſmena!—breath of gods inſpire

Her lips with eloquence!—O! my Cherinthus!

Should heaven propitious now—but O! I feel

A father's anguiſh here—couldſt thou for me

Diſcharge his promiſe to the Phrygian king,

Give, in my ſtead, thy hand to fair Cephiſa—

CHERINTHUS.

I own my ſoul has long ador'd Cephiſa;

I love her with the tendereſt paſſion, yet

I muſt not hope the princeſs e'er will deign

To accept my hand: thou know'ſt ſhe came to wed

The kingdom's heir—

TIMANTHES.

Is this the only bar?

Then ſhe is yours—I here renounce my claim

To Thrace, to empire.

CHERINTHUS.

Whither would Timanthes!

TIMANTHES.

Away, and ſeek the king; tell him, Cherinthus

Will from diſhonour ſave the Thracian name:

O! fly, and with a brother's ſpeed return,

My all depends on this eventful hour!

[Exit Cherinthus.

TIMANTHES

alone.

Indulgent powers! methinks my heart dilates

With new-reviving joy! ſhall I once more

Without a pang embrace my wife and ſon!

Enter MATHUSIUS with a paper.

MATHUSIUS.

Timanthes! O! ill fated prince!

TIMANTHES.

[62]

Mathuſius!

Thou know'ſt not what has chanc'd; the pitying hand

Of heaven even yet may ſave us, bring once more

Thy daughter to my arms—

MATHUSIUS.

Forbid it nature,

That thou ſhould'ſt e'er embrace Iſmena more!

TIMANTHES.

What means Mathuſius?—ſpeak—

MATHUSIUS.

Fate has unveil'd

A dreadful ſecret—and Iſmena—

TIMANTHES.

Ha!

Say, what of her?

MATHUSIUS.

She is—Timanthes' ſiſter.

TIMANTHES.

My ſiſter!—what deluſion—

MATHUSIUS.

No, Timanthes,

Too certain are the prooſs.

TIMANTHES.

'Tis madneſs all—

Take heed, old man, my love can brook but ill

The dreams of doating age.

MATHUSIUS.

Unhappy youth!

Hear then the dreadful tale—when late for flight

I gather'd all my treaſures to the ſhore,

I found a caſket, that had lain conceal'd

[63] E'er ſince I loſt the partner of my bed:

Doubtleſs thou oft haſt heard Barcene bore

Such faithful friendſhip to the queen deceas'd,

Our king's firſt conſort, that the day which ſaw

Argea's death, beheld Barcene's too.

TIMANTHES.

I know it well—

MATHUSIUS.

This caſket by Argea

Was truſted to Barcene, which contain'd

This paper, written by the queen's own hand.

TIMANTHES.

What paper? ha!—

MATHUSIUS.

Now mark the fatal ſcroll!

[reads.

"Iſmena is not daughter to Mathuſius,

"But owes her birth to me and to Demophoon,

"By what event her fortune has been chang'd,

"Another myſtic paper muſt diſcloſe;

"Let this be ſought for in the houſhould temple,

"Beneath the footſtool of the god.

"ARGEA."

TIMANTHES.

Impoſture all!

MATHUSIUS.

Behold the royal ſignet—

[gives the paper.

TIMANTHES.

What, ſay'ſt thou! Oh!

[drops the paper.

MATHUSIUS.

My prince—

TIMANTHES.

Away, Mathuſius!

MATHUSIUS.

[64]

I dare not leave thee thus—

TIMANTHES.

I charge thee hence,

Thou miniſter of fate—haſte to the temple,

And open all this tale of guilt and horror!

MATHUSIUS.

Yes, I muſt go—but O! ye pitying powers,

Look down, and ſend ſome meſſenger of peace

To guard him in this hour of dreadful trial.

[Exit.

TIMANTHES

alone.

Heaven hears him not—a night of black deſpair

For ever wraps me round—Olinthus now

Nephew and ſon! Iſmena wife and ſiſter!

Deteſted union! horrible to thought!

Fly, fly, Timanthes, hide thee from mankind,

Thou now muſt prove thy father's curſe—behold

The furies here reviv'd of Thebes and Argos!

O! that theſe eyes had never ſeen Iſmena!

What then I deem'd the violence of love

Was nature's ſecret force—what ſound was that!

Enter DEMOPHOON and CHERINTHUS.

My father!—hide me earth!—

DEMOPHOON.

My deareſt ſon,

In theſe lov'd arms—

TIMANTHES.

Forbear—no more Demophoon

Muſt call Timanthes by that tender name.

DEMOPHOON.

Perhaps thou know'ſt not—

TIMANTHES.

[65]

O! I know too much—

DEMOPHOON.

I come to chace the clouds of black deſpair—

Thy faults are now forgiven—and once again

Iſmena ſhall be thine—Still art thou ſilent!

Receive this dear embrace, thy pledge of pardon—

But ſay—why doſt thou fly thy father's ſight?

TIMANTHES.

I dare not look on thee—

Enter ISMENA, OLINTHUS, and Attendant.

ISMENA.

My lord, my huſband!

TIMANTHES.

Away and leave me.

ISMENA.

Ha! what means my love!

Are we not one? Has not relenting fate

Unravell'd all our ſorrows?—this bleſt hour

Indulgent heaven reſtores thee to Iſmena,

And doſt thou welcome thus—

TIMANTHES.

Oh!—

DEMOPHOON.

Speak, Timanthes—

TIMANTHES.

I cannot ſpeak—Ah! whither ſhall I fly

To hide—

DEMOPHOON.

Whom fly'ſt thou from?

TIMANTHES.

[66]

From men and gods!

From you and from myſelf—to ſolitude,

Where my remembrance may be loſt for ever!

CHERINTHUS.

'Tis frenzy all!—Haſt thou forgot each name

That wakes the ſoul to tenderneſs—behold

Thy brother here, thy ſon—

ISMENA.

Behold thy wife,

Who thus adjures thee by each thought, that now

Should fill thy breaſt, to hear and pity her!

Or if thy wife muſt plead in vain, yet hear

In this poor innocent the voice of nature—

What has he done, that thou ſhould'ſt caſt him off?

He never could offend—why doſt thou ſhun

His harmleſs looks?—O! take him to thy boſom—

Now, by this hand—you ſhall not wreſt it from me—

Once the dear pledge of happineſs—

TIMANTHES.

No more—

Thou rend'ſt my heart—wife, father, ſon, and brother,

Are names of tranſport to a mind at eaſe,

To me they're ſounds of horror!—take, O! take

That infant from my ſight—his preſence ſtarts

A thouſand dreadful thoughts—art thou not chang'd?

Doſt thou not ſhudder—hear then, wretched woman!

Thou art—I cannot ſpeak it—O, Iſmena!

[Exit.

ISMENA.

Stay, ſtay, Timanthes, if I muſt be wretched,

Thy lips ſhall ſeal my doom—

DEMOPHOON.

Cherinthus, go—

[67] Purſue thy brother's ſteps, and learn the cauſe

Of this myſterious grief—

[Exit Cherinthus.

ISMENA.

And is he gone?

Did he not caſt me from his lov'd embrace?

Did he not ſpurn Olinthus from his arms?

Some horrid ſecret!—O! what art thou, great

Myſterious evil! that in darkneſs hid,

Gives double terror—but I'll ſeek Timanthes,

Nor leave him till I ſhare in all he ſuffers!

[Exeunt Iſm. Olin. and Attendant.

Enter ADRASTUS.

ADRASTUS.

The ſacred pontiff now requeſts your preſence

To meet Mathuſius in the houſhould temple,

On ſome important buſineſs that regards

Your houſe's honour, and the kingdom's weal.

DEMOPHOON.

To meet Mathuſius!—let us hence, Adraſtus,

And learn what yet remains for ſuffering Thrace.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, The palace.

Enter TIMANTHES and CHERINTHUS.

TIMANTHES.

Away, Cherinthus—wilt thou follow ſtill

Theſe ſteps accurſt—what would'ſt thou more of horror?

Leave, leave me to my woes—

CHERINTHUS.

O! yield not thus

To madneſs of deſpair thou art indeed

Unhappy, but the hand of fate alone

Has driven thee down this [...]

Thy blameleſs thoughts—

TIMANTHES.

[68]

No more, no more, Cherinthus,

Nought can extenuate—have I not deſtroy'd

A father's peace, and ſtain'd a royal race

With blackeſt infamy—by horrid love

Impell'd, did I not trample on the laws,

And leap the bound, that ſeem'd by heaven deſign'd

To ſtop the dreadful union—has not rage

Urg'd theſe deſtructive hands—hold, hold, reflection—

Inceſt and ſacrilege—

CHERINTHUS.

Now by the love

You bear Cherinthus, by thoſe awful powers

That view the ſoul's receſs, whoſe juſtice marks

The deed of hood-wink'd fate from the black dye

Of voluntary guilt, whoſe pity ſtill

May ſooth thy future life—

TIMANTHES.

My future life!—

Shall I then live to aggravate my crime

To love—for, O! with horror I confeſs

I cannot ſhake Iſmena from my ſoul—

Here, here ſhe dwells—nor can this awful moment

Raze from my breaſt the huſband and the father,

It will not be—one way—

[draws a dagger.

CHERINTHUS.

Hold, hold, my brother—

What would'ſt thou do?

MATHUSIUS.

[within.]

Give, give him to my arms—

Enter MATHUSIUS.

Timanthes! my Timanthes! Oh!—

[embrace.

TIMANTHES.

[69]

Mathuſius!

Why wilt thou ſave a wretch that muſt not live?

Away—

MATHUSIUS.

O! thou art innocent—Demophoon

Gave thee not birth—but I—I am thy father—

TIMANTHES.

Thou!—gracious heaven! Is not Iſmena then

My ſiſter—Speak, Mathuſius—

ISMENA.

[entering.]

Let me fly

To greet him with the ſound of love and joy.

Enter ISMENA, CEPHISA, and OLINTHUS.

Yes, I will hold him ever to my heart!

Timanthes! 'tis too much—hence every vain

And buſy fear that frights thee from my arms!

No ſiſter now—no rigid laws oppoſe

Our union more; Demophoon has confirm'd

Our mutual bliſs, and univerſal Thrace

Shall now be witneſs to my boundleſs love!

TIMANTHES.

And is it given me then to claſp thee thus!

To gaze with guiltleſs tranſport! ſpeak, my friends,

It cannot be—o'erwhelm'd but now with horrors—

Enter DEMOPHOON with a paper, and ADRASTUS.

O royal ſir! and may I then believe

Theſe bleſt events—and is Iſmena ſprung

From your illuſtrious race—and may I now

Indulge the fond idea—

DEMOPHOON.

Yes, Timanthes,

This has unravell'd all—from yonder fane

[70] I bring this ſcroll, which has diſpell'd the fears

Which firſt Mathuſius rais'd.

TIMANTHES.

All-gracious Heaven!

DEMOPHOON.

Thou wert exchang'd an infant for Iſmena;

Argea, baffled in her hopes to give

An heir to Thrace, firſt by Arſene's birth,

And next Iſmena's, from Mathuſius' wife

Receiv'd, and gave thee to me as her own;

But verging on the brink of life, ſhe left

A paper with Barcene, to produce,

If aught of danger ſhould attend Iſmena,

That paper which Mathuſius gave thee firſt,

While in the houſhould temple ſhe diſpos'd

This ſecond ſcroll which has reveal'd thy birth.

TIMANTHES.

Then am I happy ſtill—O! ſacred ſir!

Forgive each rebel act—but 'twas a cauſe

Might ſurely plead—'twas your Iſmena—

DEMOPHOON.

Riſe,

Come to my arms and be again my ſon,

This cancels all—

[embrace.

CEPHISA.

[leading Olinthus to him.]

See, ſee, Timanthes, one

Who claims your deareſt care—behold him now—

Look how he reaches out his little hands

To claſp a father's knees, and meet his bleſſing.

TIMANTHES.

Thy mother's joy!—Olinthus—

ISMENA.

Yes, Timanthes,

It is Olinthus, whom but late you ſpurn'd

[71] From your embrace—you ſpurn'd Iſmena too—

And will you ſhun me ſtill—no, no, Timanthes,

I have thee here — my beating heart confeſſes

Its wonted gueſt—O! we will part no more!

Our ſufferings paſt ſhall be the grateful theme

Of many a future hour—Olinthus oft

Shall liſten to our talk, and while he dwells

With infant wonder on his parents' ſtory,

Drop the young tear of pity from his eye,

Cling to our breaſts, and pay for all our ſorrows.

TIMANTHES.

[to Cher.]

My brother! ſtill that tender name is ours,

'Twas doubtleſs heaven inſpir'd me to reſign

The birthright I uſurp'd—receive thy own.

MATHUSIUS.

Take back, my fate, what now remains of life,

For nothing more is worth an old man's care?

DEMOPHOON.

Mathuſius, yes—thou ſtill haſt days of joy:

Here let oblivion's veil conceal the paſt;

We both have been to blame—ſee in Timanthes

The innocent uſurper: thus we ſtand

Deliver'd from the annual ſacrifice;

Cherinthus ſhall ſucceed—in him, Cephiſa,

Behold the kingdom's heir—but this glad hour

Demands that tribute which the tongue of praiſe

Owes to that ruling Power who governs all!

END of the FIFTH ACT.

Appendix A EPILOGUE.

[]

Written by GEORGE COLMAN, Eſq

Spoken by Mrs. BULKLEY.

WHAT horrors fill the tragic poet's brain!
Plague, murder, rape, and inceſt, croud his train;
He pants for miſeries, delights in ills,
The blood of fathers, mothers, children, ſpills;
Stabs, poiſons, maſſacres; and, in his rage,
With daggers, bowls, and carpets, ſtrews the ſtage.

Our gentler poet, in ſoft opera bred,
Italian crotchets ſinging in his head,
Winds to a proſp'rous end the fine-drawn tale,
And roars—but roars like any nightingale.—

Woman, whate'er ſhe be—maid, widow, wife,
A quiet woman is the charm of life:
And ſure Cephiſa was a gentle creature,
Fuil of the milk and honey of good-nature.
Imported for a ſpouſe—by ſpouſe refus'd!
Was ever maid ſo ſhamefully abus'd?
And yet, alas, poor prince! I could not blame him—
One wife, I'knew, was full enough to tame him.
Iſmena, and Timanthes, and Olinthus,
Might all be happy—for I choſe Cherinthus.

But what a barb'rous law was this of Thrace!
How cruel there was each young lady's caſe!
A virgin, plac'd upon the dreadful roll,
A hapleſs virgin muſt have ſtood the poll,
But by Timanthes made a lucky bride,
Iſmena prudently diſqualify'd.

Ladies, to you alone our author ſues;
'Tis yours to cheriſh, or condemn his muſe.
The theatre's a mirror, and each play
Should be a very looking-glaſs, they ſay;
His looking-glaſs reflects no moles or pimples,
But ſhews you full of graces, ſmiles, and dimples.
If you approve yourſelves, reſolve to ſpare,
And, critics! then attack him, if ye dare.

FINIS.

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Citation Suggestion for this Object: TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 3616 Timanthes a tragedy As it is performed at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden By John Hoole. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5B96-5