PR 4057 .B2 D3 1829 Copy 1 )AMON AND PYTHIAS, >^ A PLAY, IN FIVE ACTS. BY RICHARD SHIEL, ESQ. AUTHOR OF " THE APOSTATE," &o. AS PUttFORMEU AT THE CHESTNUT-STREET THEATRE, I'HILADELPHTA. PHILADELPHIA : SAL & MACKENZIE, No. 201 CHESTNUt-STREK T. Mifflin & Parry, Printers. 1829. < i ')■ wf DRAMATIS PERSONS Damon, Pythias, Dionysius, Damocles, Philistius, Procles, Lucullus, Philadelphia, Mr. Cooper. Mr. Duff. Mr. Greene. Mr. Darley. Mr. Wheatley Mr. Hathwell Mr. Porter. Mr. BiGNAlL. Master Burke. Damon's child, 0->sv«.*^ ^yivo^Ol Senators, Guards, Servants, &c. Calanthe, ' D^'p' -r'tui . Mrs. Duff. Hermion, ^ITyJi) ^yv-iVn^ • Mrs. Anderson. Arria, . />>^^^j U ^^^;^ A^Mrs. Jefferson, Scene — Syracwsk- 6h 49- DAMON AND PYTHIAS. /^5:> ACT I. 0CEITX I. — A Street iv^ Syracuao. DioxYsius and Pkocles discovered^ a» expecting ti- dings. Dion. Ere this the senate should have closed its councils, And chosen the new year's president. I pant To know their meeting^s issue. Proc. Good my lord, » There's but light doubt a great majority Of easy purchased voices will be found For your fast friend, Philistius. Dion. On his choice Hangs the long chain of complicated purpose Has ta'en such time in linking. Plague upon The law, that from the senate-house excludes All soldiers, like ourselves, or we should soon Outvote all difficulty ! (Senators cross the Stag'e.) Ha! methinks The assembly hath dissolved. By Jupiter, Philistius' self doth hasten to us here. And with him Damocles ! How now, my friend ? Enter PuiLisntrs art J Damocx.es. Art thou the president ? Phil. I am, my lord. Chosen by a large majority to take The honourable office : in the which I may, at least, requite the benefits yIhias. 4. ^ DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act I Which you have heaped upon me. Dam. Yes, my lord, We have at last attain'd the 'vantage ground. Whence your broad view may take a boundless pros- pect. Dion. 'Tis a bold step upon the mountain-path, Wherein I have long been toiling. I no longer Doubt of the senate's inclination. What say the soldiers ? Thou hast hinted to them That we confided to thee ? /Proc. Yes, my lord ; And they are ready for it. Dion, Go thou hence, And speak to them again ; disperse more gold; *Twill give a relish to thine eloquence 5 And, hark ye, lead th em this w ay^j^j^jhalLh ere Await t hy co mi n^^^/ H a ! ^eKoIHTm air, "^ rW h ere a m ajeince agl e floats above 'The northern turrets of the citadel ; ^ And, as the sun breaks through yon rifted cloud His plumage shines, embath'd in burning gold And sets off his regality in heaven. Thou knowest how readily the multitude Are won by sucl > brig ht augury-: ;::jaake-Jis , -X^^^vii^ationjj^haitetheeT {Exit Proclea Philistius, give me your hand. I thank you : Things look in smiles upon me. It was otherwise But a year since, when I impeach'd the magistrates For treasonable dealing with the foe. And the senate hurl'd me from my topmost height Of popularity. Dam. Degraded you From power, and office. Dion. Ay ! at the appeal Of that stale pedant, the Pythagorean, Who hangs out his austerity for sale. In frowns, clos'd hps, and pithy sentences. Dam. Thou speakest of Damon? Dion. Ay, mine enem}'^. The patriot, and philosophic knave, Who hath been busy with my purposes, — Act 1] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. i And one day sliall not smile at it. He came Into tlie senate-house, with a fierce crew Of his associates in philosophy. Silent and frowning-, at his back; he rail'd And had his trivimpi). — Tinges have alter'd since; And to the mould and fashion of my will, Shall yet take stranger sliape, when, Damocles, These long-trained lawgivers, these austere sages, Shall find I can remember. Dam. Let them feel it. Dion. In all that biting bitterness of heart Which clings, and gnaws, by inches, to its object, More keen, because a first essay hath fail'd. In shame and suffering, failed, thus have I sped • My work, in silence, on. It did become A thought inwoven with my inmost being. Dam. The steps Which since most visible you have ascended, Must have requir'd much effort? Dion. Yes ! to have flung Into the-siwde of public disrepute The very men whose voices were most loud In working out my ruin ; — after that. To gain the army's suffrage ; — to be chosen Its head and general, that was another; To have won that very senate Phil. Yet pause, my lord, — Howe'er complying you have hitherto Found that assembly, and though most of them Are plung'd into your debt, beyond all means Of their redenjption, yet may there be still Some sudden reluctation to the last And mightiest of all hopes. Dion. The garrison Is not a bad ally methinks ? Phil. The war J^ath ta'en the flower of all the troops from Syracuse, And Damon heading the vile populace Dion. I came from Agrigentum, to entreat Arms, corn, and money, from the senators, While I myself have purposely delay'd 6 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act 1 The granting them; meantime, the city is filled With many thousands of my followers. Phil. But, are they not unweapon'd? Dion, This city of Syracuse — It hath a citadel ? Fhil. True, sir,— it hath. Dion. And therein, as I deem, its national stock Of corn, and arms, and gold, is treasur'd ? Phil. True. BiQ7i. The citadel is not impregnable; And when it is mann'd, and order'd to my will, What of these frothy speech-makers ? {A shout is .heard abroad. . Phil. My lord. The soldiers shout for you. Bwn. Procles, I see. Is at his work.— Good . amocles, Philistius, As you are senators, retire ye hence ; It were not meet that you should look to have been Parties to any act, which afterwards May grow into discussion. — And, Philistius, One effort more among our city friends ; I will forewarn thee of the time to call The senators together — Yet, I mean not Exclusively to trust them, good Philistius ; — Sure means sure ends. — 1*11 have a friend or two Within my call, to help them. — If their councils Become too knotty for unravelling, A sharp sword may be useful. — Fare you well. [Exeujit Philistius and Damocles. Voices ( Without.) Ay, to the citadel — The citadel. Enter Procles and Soldiers. Dion. Who talks of moving to the citadel ? 1st Soldier. It is himself, — huzza ! All. Huzza ! our general ! Dion. Good friends, I thank ye. Procles, art thou here ? Hast thou distributed to these much-wrong'd men. The trifling bounty which I charg'd thee with .? Proc. They have it, noble general. Actl] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. Dion. My friends, 'Twas a poor offering and beneath your taking \ But, as yourself do know, my private purse Is light as that of any other veteran. Within the walls of Syracuse. Speak, Procles, Who talks of moving on the citadel ? AIL We, Dionysius, we. Froc. Yes, these brave spirits. Indignant at the senate's heedlesspesa Of you, and them, and of the general honour- 1st Soldier. Ay, we will spurn their yol have no master But our most noble general Dionysius ! Dion. Give me not cause, my friends, to deem my- self Dishonour'd and endanger'd in your love ; For, as I am a soldier and a man. Could I believe that any other thought Engag'd you to possess the citadel. Save your anxiety for the soldier's weal, And the state's safety,- 1 would raise my hand. In supplication 'gainst your enterprize ; — But, as the time now urges, and cries out For sudden muster, and organization Of the brave thousands, who but wait for swords. To join your ranks, and rush with you to glory, - And yet the senate, — Proc. Speak not of the senate : We do renounce its service and despise it, Dion. It was my thought to say, if they object, We may submit it, as a needful step, Claiming allowance in the exigency Of the occasion. Proc. They shall not control it. We seek not for their judgment of our act. All. On, general, on ! Dion. When did ye call, That I replied not with my word and deed, My heart and hand ? Even as you say it, on, On, fellow-soldiers, to the citadel ! And let vour swords be out, more in the show 8 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act I Of what ye are, soldiers and fighting'-men, Than with a harmful purpose. Let us on ! Ad. On to the citadel ! the citadel ! [Exeunt, toith cries, imil brandishing their swords. Scene II. — Another Street. Enter Damox. Damon. Philistius, then, is president at last, A n d Di onysius has o'ersway'd it ? Well,^ j|«H|bliat I expected: 'i'here is now IHSProlic virtue left in Syracuse. Wnat should be hop'd from a degenerate, Corrupted, and voluptuous populace, When highly-born and meanly-minded nobles Would barter freedom for a great man's feast, And sell their country for a smile ? The 'stream, With a more sure eternal tendency Seeks not the ocean, than a sensual race Their own devouring slavery. I am sick, At my inmost heart, of every thing I see And hear ! Oh Syracuse, I am, at last, Forc'd to despair of thee ! And yet thou art My land of birth, — thou art my country still ; And like an unkind mother, thou hast left The claims of holiest nature in my heart, And I must sorrow for, not hate thee ? (Shouts) Ha ! What shouts are these ? *Tis from the citadel The uproar is descending. - E7iter LxjcuLLus. \ Speak, LucuUus, What has befallen ? JjUc. Have you heard the news ? JJamon. What news ? Luc. As through the streets I pass'd, the people Said ihat the citadel was in the hands Of Dionysius. Damon. The citadel In Dionysius' hands r What dost thou tell me ;• How, — whcref()rc, — when? In Dionvshis' h.ands f Act 1] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 9 The traitor Dionysius ? — Speak, Lucullus, And quickly. Luc, It was said, that by rude force. Heading a troop of soldiers, he has ta*en Possession of the citadel, and seiz'd The arms and treasure in*t. [Exit Damon. I am thunder stricken ! The citadel assaulted, and the armory In that fierce soldier's power ! (Shouts) Again ! By all The gods on high Olympus, 1 behold His standard waving o'er it, — and they come. His most notorious satellites, high heaped With arms and plunder ! Parricidal slaves. What have ye done ? Enter Pb.oci.es and Soldiers. Soldiers. For Dionysius ! Ho ! For Dionysius ! Damon. Silence ! obstreperous traitors ! • Your throats offend the quiet of the city ; And thou, who standest foremost of these knaves, Stand back, and answer me, — a senator. What have you done ? Proc. But that 1 know 'twill gall thee. Thou poor and talking pedant of the school Of dull Pythagoras, I'd let thee make Conjecture from thy senses : But, in hope *Twill stir your solemn anger, learn from me, We have taken possession of the citadel, And Damon. Patience, ye good gods! a moment's pa- tience. That these too ready hands may not enforce The desperate precept of my rising heart — Thou most contemptible and meanest tool That ever tyrant used! Froc. Do you hear him, soldiers ? First, for thy covyard railings at myself, And since thou liast called our Dionysius tvrant, Here, in the open streets of Syracuse, 10 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. {Act I I brand thee for a liar, and a traitor ! Damon. Audacious slave ! Proc. Upon him, soldiers, — Hew him to pieces ! Soldiers. On him ! Enter Pythias, as they rush upon Damon, Pyth. Back, on your lives ! Cowards, damn'*d treacherous cowards, back I say ! Do you know me ? Look upon me : Do you know This honest sword I brandish ? You have seen it Among the ranks of Carthage ; would you now Taste its shrewd coldness in your quaking selves ! Back ! back ! I say. He hath his amour on — I am his sword, shield, helm ; I but enclose Myself, and my own heart, and heart's blood, when I thus stand before him. Damon. False hearted cravens ! We are but two — my Pythias, my halved heart! — My Pythias, and myself; but dare come on. Ye hirelings of a tyrant ! dare advance A foot, or raise an arm, or bend a brow. And ye shall learn what two such arms can do Amongst a thousand of ye. — My good friend. The gods have sent thee to me — Who had deem'd To find thee here from Agrigentum ? [Soldiers advance. Pyth. Off! Off, villains, off ! — Each for the other thus. And in that other, for his dearer self. Why, Procles, art thou not asham'd— for I Have seen thee do good work in battle time — Art not asham'd, here on a single man To rush in coward numbers ^ Fie upon thee ! I took thee for a soldier. Proc. For thy sake, Who art a warrior like ourselves, we spare him — 'Twas a good star of his that led thee hither From Agrigentum, to lift up thine arm in the defence of that long robe of peace Wherein he wraps his stern philosophy, Actl] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 11 Come, teach him better manners. Soldiers, on,~ Let us to Dionysius. [Exeunt Proclea and Soldiers, Pyth. Art thou safe From these infuriate stabbers ? Damon. Thanks to thee, I am safe, my gallant soldier, and fast friend : My better genius sent thee to my side. When I did think thee far from Syracuse. Pyth. I have won leave to spend some interval From the fierce war, and come to Syracuse, With purpose to espouse the fair Calanthe. — The gods have led me hither, since I come In time to rescue thee. How grew this rude broil up ? Damon. Things go on here Most execrably, Pythias. Bnt you are come To be a husband, are you not .? Pyth. To-morrow I call my soft Calanthe wife, Damon. Then, Pythias, I will not shade the prospect of your joys With any griefs of mine. I cry you mercy — These are experiments too over nice For one that has a mistress, and would wed her With an uncut throat. I have wish*d myself, That to the blest retreats of private life My lot had been awarded ; — every hour Makes one more sick and weary with the sense Of this same hopeless service of a state, Where there is not of virtue left To feed the flarings of our liberty. But, my soldier, I will not make thee a participant In my most sad forebodings. Pythias, 1 say 'twere better be the Persian's slave, And let him tread upon thee, when he would Ascend his horse's back, than— yet, not so, I am too much gall'd and fretted to pronounce A sober judgment, and the very mask Of freedom is yet better than the bold, Uncover'd front of tyranny. — Farewell ! 13 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act I Pyth, Nay, I must follow thee, and find the cause That so perturbs thy spirit. Damon. How, sir! you have A mistress here in Syracuse, and, look, Herself comes forth to meet you. Pyth. Where! Calanthe ! Nay, 1 behold her not — you mock me Damon. Damon. {Pointing to a different side of the ttage.) Look this way, sir. Pyth. It is herself, indeed. My own, my fond, betrothed one. Eiiter Calanthe. Cal. My dear. But most neglecting Pythias ! Pyth. By the birth Of Venus, when she rose out of the sea, And with her life did fill the Grecian isles With everlasting verdure, she was not. Fresh from the soft creation of the wave, More beautiful than thee ! Cal. Thou fondly thinkest To hide thy false oblivion of the maid. That with a panting heart awaited thee. Now, Pythias, I do take it most unkind. That thou to friendship hast made sacrifice Of the first moment of thy coming here. Pyth. Nay, chide me not ; for I was speeding to thee. Cal. Soon as I heard thou wert in Syracuse^ I ran at once to hail thee with a smile. Although my mother would have staid me. {Pythias kisses her hand.) Damon. ( fVho is lost in thought.) Yes, They must at least be safe. Pyth. And how, Calanthe^ > Fares thy dear mother ? Cal. Happy in the thought If she must needs (as she must) part with me, It is at least to thee. Act I] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 13 Pyth. And my poor father ? Cal. Time has almost shut up his faculties, And he can scarce distinguish any voice That is address'd to him. The day is pass'd Upon his couch ; at evening, in a chair. He is carried to the terrace-walk before The threshold of his mansion, where the wind, Fresh from the sea, plays with his locks of gray, Till pleas'd at last he smiles. That gentle smile. As 'tis the first denotement of a thought In speechless infanc3\ 'tis the last sign Of the expiring mind. Pyth. My soft Calantlie Must be a tender on infirmity. Before her time. But where's my silent friend ^ Why, Damon, what's the matter ? Damon. {Aside, a?id siili losi in thought.) One brave blov.^ And it were done ! By all the goJs, one blow. And Syracuse were free ! — Pythias, is't you ? — I cry you mercy, {to Cal.) fair one — Pythias, You are to be married. Haste thee, Pythias, — Love, and fight on. Thine arms to Mars, thy heart Give to his paramour. — Take thou no care Of the politician's study — 'twill turn pale Thy cheek, make thee grow sick at nature's love- liness, And see in her pure beauty but one blank Of dismal, coloui'less, sterility. Calanthe, look to it — let him not play The statesman's sorry part. Pyth. Damon, you let The commonwealth o'erfret you. I was about To pray you to cur wedding. Damon. I intended, Unbidden, to be there. Pyth. From friendsliip's eyes I'll win addition to my happiness. Calanthe, come — I should be half in fear, To seem thus loving of thee, in the sight Of this philosopher. B 14 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act I Cal. Nay, he pretends To be by half more rugged, and more wise. Than he hath any right to : I have seen him, (Have I not, Damon ?) looking at his wife, When he imagin'd none was there to mark The proud Pythagorean, with an eye Filled with tenderness : — and his young boy too. That seems Aurora's child, with liis fine face, Stirr'd his stern visage to complacency. Come, come, we will be revenged upon you both : I swear, his wife and I will be accounted Your rivals in the godlike quality Your lordly sex would arrogate its own Peculiar privilege, and show the world The unseen, and yet unrumour'd prodigy, — The friendship of a woman, lExeu7it Pythias and Calanthe, Enter Lucullus. Damon. Hark thee, Lucullus — My wife and child must instantly depart From Syracuse ; — you must attend them hence. Unto my villa, on the mountain side. Xmc. Alas, my lord ! Damon. Why dost thou droop ? Luc. My lord, I was your slave ; you gave me liberty; And when I see you peril'd — Damon. Nay, Lucullus, Where is the warrant for thy fear ? Luc. I read You are engag'd in some dread enterprise, Filse you would not deny them to your sight : You fear the leaning ruin may fall down Upon their dearer heads. Damon. I charge you, sir. No prying in my purposes. — Take care You speak not to my wife of any thing May stir her apprehensions— see, she comes — - Beware thy looks betray thee. Act I] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 15 Enter Hermiow. ffevm. Art thou safe, Damon, art safe ? Damon- You are not a widow yet. Herm. For shame to talk of such a thing. I have heard Of thy rude quarrelling with that same fierce, And overbearing soldier. But thou art safe. — Proud men ! how reckless of the faithful hearts That doat on you, — that hang their weakness on ye! How reckless of us in your bustling hours Of occupation and despatch, ye are ! Ah, then you think not of the pining mate. Left in her solitude, with nought to do. But weep for your return, and chide the gods, That make your n>inds so stern and enterprising. Bci0)n^ y(iri»ion,J,th*nk^ t]ie city^ fulsome air Likes not our boy :— The colour in*Hi9*chfeek Hath Ipst its rich and healthful purity. Herm. Nay, you are wrong there; — 'tis like a young peach. Or yet more fresh and blooming. JDamoji. Hermion, I have resolv'd that you and he shall go Unto my villa, near to Syracuse. Herm. But you will come with us ? Damon. Hermion, you know My occupation forbids that wish. Luc. My lord — Damon. Forbear sir — yet I cannot go, — ■ I mean, I cannot go immediately — The state affairs luy hold upon me. You Must hence before me thither. Herm. Damon — Damon. Come, Look not thus sadly. Herm. I have learn'd too well The usage of obedience, to inquire Into your purposes. J6 DAMON AND 1*YTHIAS. [Act I Damon. Hermion, I'll take Occasion oft to visit you — to morrow — If possible, to morrow. fferm. Will you so? Nay, will you truly promise it ? JDamon. I do. — Hermion, you must be sudden — you must despatch.— Come — -but I'll see my boy before you go. — Hermion, he is our only one. — That child Is made of thy own heart, and mine — I charge thee. Have thou a care, in all vicissitudes Of private or of public incident. To form in him, what will out-top the height Of the best laurel-tree in all the groves Of the Academy,-— an honest man. {^Exeunt. S*CEifE I. — A Chamber in Arria''s House, Enter Pythias and Calanthe. Pyth. So, my Calanthe, you would waste the moon Of Hymen in this lonely spot ? Cal. In sooth I would, for 'tis the fairest place in Sicily : A dell, made of green beauty; with its shrubs Of aromatic sweetness, growing up The ragged mountain's sides, as cunningly As the nice structure of a little nest. Built by two loving nightingales. The wind. That comes there, full of rudeness from the sea, Is luU'd into a balmy breath of peace, The moment that it enters ; and 'tis said By our Sicilian shepherds, that their songs Have in this place a wilder melody. The mountains all about it are the haunts Of many a fine romantic memory ! Act 11] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. It High towers old JEtna, with his feet deep clad In the green sandals of the freshful spring ; His sides array'd in winter, and his front Shooting aloft the everlasting flame. On the right hand is that great cave, in which Huge Polyphemus dwelt, between whose vast Colossal limbs the artful Grecian stole. On the other side. Is Galatea's dainty dressing-room, "Wrought in the living marble ; and within Is seen the fountain where she us'd to twine The ringlets on her neck that did ensnare The melancholy Cyclop. — But what care you, A soldier, for such fantasies ? I know A way that better shall persuade you to That place for our sweet marriage residence — There Damon hath his villa — Ha ! you seem Determin'd by the fast proximity Of such a friendship, more than all my love. Pyth. Does Damon dwell there ? Cal. No ; his Hermion And his young boy — O ! 'tis a beauteous child ' — Are sent there from the city's noxious air, And he doth visit them, whene'er the state Gives him brief respite. Tell me, Pythias, Shall we not see the Hymeneal moon Ghde through the blue heavens there ? Pyth. My own ador'd one, If thou should'stbid me sail away with thee To seek the isles of the Hesperides, I would, with such a pilots spread my sail Beyond the trophies of great Hercules, Making thine eyes my cynosure ! Enter Lucullus. How now, Lucullus ? Luc, Where is my lord ? I was inform'd That I should find him here— a senator Bade me require him instantly. Pyth. He waits here. To attend us to the temple, and if things B 2 18 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act 11 Of weight demand his eur, you'll find him yonder In the pale cypress-grove. [ Exit Lucullus, Nothing I hope Has happen'd to withdraw him from the rite That makes thee mine. Cal. I hope not. — Who is this That seeks him out so earnestly ? Fyth. He is A brave Italian, whom the Carthage pirates Seiz'd on his native coast, and sold a slave. Damon hath given him back his liberty. But yet, of his free will, he tends him still ; And more than very freedom doth he hold. The right to serve a man that is fine touch*d With a most merciful spirit. Cal. Nay, my Pythias, Make not your friend's high qualities for aye The burthen of your eloquence — In sooth, I should be almost jealous of a steed I saw you pat with a too liberal hand ; And — ha ! he comes. Enter Damon. Damon. Pythias — {aside) I must not let Calanthe read my purpose. Calanthe, The blessing, and the bounty of the gods Be with you, over you, and all around you, Thou gentle girl!— Pythias, a word with you. (aside to Pyth.) What heard I, think you, Pythias, even now ? Cal. There has been Pythias, all this forenoon, Would speak to me of nothing but the esteem In which he held thee, Damon. Damon. What ! no word Touching the quality of that foolish love He bears the fair Calanthe? (To Pyth, aside.) Wq are undone, Wc, and our wretched city, Pythias ! Pyth. (aside to Damon,) What dost thou mean ? Cal. No, not a single word— Thou, thou alone mad'st up his eulogy. Act II] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 19 Damon. What think'st thou, Pythias ? A king ? {aside.) Pyth. (aside to Damon.) Wliat ! who ? Dam. (to Cal.) Heed not His silken praises of me. (ToPyth. aside.) Dionysius Is to be crowned in the senate-house. Pyth. Can it be possible ? Da7n. I say thee, yea — His soldiers line the streets. Pyth. But will the senate, The coward senate, sanction it ! Will none Oppose him in it ? Dam. Oppose him .' — (aloud.) all the gods So help, or strike me, as I will oppose him ! Let Etna vent her furies on his side, And I alone — Ha ! I forgot my dagger. [Searahing- about him. Cal. How now, my Pythias ? Pyth. He is mov'd, Calanthe, By some most urgent matter of the state ; Nay, heed him not ! Damon. Pythias, as I intended To be a witness to thy wedding-rite, I did not bear a weapon — give me thy poniard. Pyth. Speak, to what end ? Damon. No matter, give it me. Cal. Ha ! what does he intend ? Now, by my love, Pythias, I do adjure thee, Pyth. Whither Damon, Where would'st thou go ? Damon. Unto the senate-house. Pyth. Then I will with you, too. Cal. He shall not •' Damon. No ! Thou say'st aright,— he shall not 1 Fair Calanthe, This is no hour to leave thee ! What, Calanthe, Should bridegrooms give the law, and 'gin to rule Even on their wedding day ? I charge thee, sweet. Assert thy brief dominion while thou canst; 'Twill speedily be his turn. (aside to Pyth.) It shall not be ! It is against the law 20 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act 11 For any soldier in the senate-house To lift his helm of war, and what avail Were thy companionship ? Calanthe, take him. Take him away, and heaven be o'er you both ! Pyth. But thou wilt promise me, upon the faith Of an old friendship, that thy sudden hand Will not attempt a rashness ? Damon. Be thou satisfied, I will do nought in passion. Come, Calanthe, {aside.) Assert thy right in him, and bear him hence Unto the garden-walk, and tell him o'er The names of all thy favourite plants ; 1 pray thee. Keep him in busy trifles, till the hour For the sweet rite be come — That's well, my girl; There, take him by the arm ! Cal. Come, Pythias, come ! I thank thee, Damon, for thy tender counsel. Pyth. Nay, Damon, nay, Calanthe — Cal. Nay me no nays ; I say it shall be so. Damon. May the gods pour Their blessings o'er your heads ! — Farewell ! fare- well ! I have no time to bide here, but my heart Shall be beside you at the altar-place. Perhaps it is an idle fear compels me Hence from your sight — I will, if possible. Return and see you wedded. — Fare you well ! Now, Syracuse, for thee ! — And may the fates So bless, or curse me, as I act in this ! ^ ; \_Exeunt severally. Scene II. — The Senate house of Syracuse. — Senators assembled. — Philistius at their head — Diontsius stands in the front of the stage. — Damocles. 1st. Sen. So soon warn'd back again ! Dion. So soon, good fathers. My last despatches here set forth, that scarce I had amass'd and form'd our gallant legions. When, as by magic, word of the precaution ActllJ DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 21 Was spirited to their camp — and on the word, These Carthagenians took their second thought, And so fell back. Fhil. I do submit to you, That out of this so happy consequence Of Dionysius* movement on the citadel, Not only is his pardon for the act Freely drawn forth, but we are call'd upon Our thanks most manifestly to express For such a noble service. JDion. Good Philistius, I am a soldier ; yours and the state's servant, And claim no notice for my duty done Beyond the doing it — and the best thanks i merit, or can have, lie in the issue Which has most happily resulted. Dam. Nay, It rests in us to say so. Fhil. Dionysius, The work which of this enterprise thou hast made. Proves that oar citadel, and its resources, Have been misus'd ; and never so controll'd And order'd for our good, as by thyself; — Therefore retain it, govern and direct it. — Would the whole state were like the citadel 1 In hot and angry times like these we want Even such a man. Da7n. I, from my heart, assent to And second this proposal. Dion. Most reverend fathers — Dam. We pray thee silence, noble Dionysius! All here do know what your great modesty Will urge you to submit — but I will raise This envious veil wherein you shroud yourself. It is the time to speak ; our country's danger Calls loudly for some measure at our hands, Prompt and decisive. Damon, {ivithout.) Thou most lowly minion \ I'll have thee whipp'd for it, and by the head Made less even than thou art ! 22 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act II Enter Damon. Phil. Wh® breaks so rude and clamorously in To scare our grave deliberations ? Damon. A senator ! — First let me ask you why Upon my way here to sit down with you, I have encountered in the open streets, Nay, at the very threshold of your doors. Soldiers and satelHtes array'd and marshalPd With their swords out ? Why have I been obstructed By an armed bandit in my peaceful walk here, To take my ripfhtful seat in the senate-house ? Why has a ruffian soldier privilege To hold his weapon to my throat ? A tainted, Disgrac'd, and abject traitor, Procles ? Who Dar'd place the soldiers round the senate-house f Phil. I pray you, fathers, let not this rash man Disturb the grave and full consideration Of the important jnatter touching which We spoke ere he rushed in. Dam. I did require To know from you, without a hand or head, Such as to us hath been our Dionysius, What now were our most likely fate ? Damon. The fate Of freemen in the full ; free exercise Of all the noble rights that freemen love ! Free in our streets to walk ; free in our councils To speak and act — Phil. I do entreat you, senators, Protect me from this scolding demagogue, And let us win your — Damon. Demagogue, Philistius ! Who was the demagogue, when at my challenge He was denoune'd and silenc'd by the senate. And your scant oratory spent itself In fume and vapour ? Dam. Silence, Damon, silence ! And let the council use its privilege, Datnon. Who bids me silence ? Damocles, the soft And pUant willow, Damocles ! — Bat come. Act 11] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 23 What do you dare proplOse > Come, I'll be silent- Go on. JPhil. Resolve you then, is Dionyslus This head indeed to us ? Acting for us— Yea, governing-, that long have proved we cannot. Although we feign it, govern for ourselves ? Da7n. Then who so fit, in such extremity. To be the single pillar, on whose strength .All power should rest ? I'hil. Ay, and what needs the state Our crowded and contentious councils here ? And therefore, senators,— countrymen, rather. That we may be wiser, and better ruFd Than by ourselves we are; that the state's danger May be confronted boldly, and that he May have but his just meed, 1 do submit That forthwith we dissolve ourselves, and choose A king in Dionysius. jya7non. Kingl A king? 1*^ Se7i. I do approve It. 2nd. Ay, and I. Dam. And all ! JDainon. And all! are all content ? A nation's right betray'd. And all content ! O slaves! O parricides !' O, by the brightest hope a just man has, I blush to look around and call you men ! Whatl with your own free willing hands yield up The ancient fabric ofy our constitution, To be a garrison, a common barrack, A common guard-house, and for common cut-throats' What I will ye all combine to tie a stone Each to each other's necks, and drown like dogs Within the tide of time, and never float To after ages, or at best, but float A buoyant pestilence ? Can ye but dig Your own dark graves, creep into them, and die ! 2rd. Sen. I have not sanction'd it. 4M. Sen. Nor I. 5th. Sen. Nor I. Damon. O ! thanks for these few voices ! but alas I 24 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act II How lonely do they sound ! Do you not all Start up at once, and cry out liberty? Are you so bound in fetters of the mind, That there you sit as if you were yourselves Incorporate with the marble ? Syracusans ! But, no! I will not rail, nor chide, nor curse ye ! I will implore you, fellow-countrymen, With blinded eyes, and weak and broken speech, I will implore you — O ! I am weak in words. But I cculd bring- such advocates before you ; — Your fathers' sacred images; old men That have been grandsires ; women with their chil- dren, Caught up in fear and hurry, in their arms — And those old men should lift their shivering voiceSj And palsied hands — and those affrighted mothers Should hold their innocent infants forth, and ask, Could you make slaves of them? Fhil. I dissolve the senate At its own vote and instance. {Leaves his seat.) Darn. And all hail ! Hail, Dionysius, King of Syracuse ! Dion. Is this the vote ? Damon. There is no vote ! Philistius Hold you your seat ; keep in your places, senators. Dion. I ask, is this the vote? Phil. It is the vote, My gracious liege and sovereign ! Damon. I say nay ! You have not voted, Naxillus, or Petus— Nor you, nor you, nor you. JPhil. In my capacity As head, and organ of the city council, I do asseverate it is the vote ! {They all kneel to Dionysius except Damon.) Dion. I thank you, friends and countrymen, I thank ye! Damon. O, all the gods, my country, O, my country! Dion. And that we may have leisure to put on With fitting dignity our garb of power, We do now, first assuming our own right. Act II] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 25 Command from this, that was the senate-house, Those rash, tumultuous men, who still would tempt The city's peace with wild vociferation. And vain contentious rivalry. Begone! Damon. I stand A senator within the senate-house. Dion. Traitor ! and dost thou dare me to my face? Damon. Traitor! to v.'hom? to thee! — O Syracuse, Is this thy reg-ister'd doom ? To have no meaning For the proud names of liberty and virtue, But as some regal braggart sets it down In his vocabulary ? And the sense. The broad, bright sense that Nature hath assigned them In her infallible volume, interdicted For ever from thy knowledge ; or if seen. And known, and put in use, denounced as treasona- ble. And treated thus ?— No, Dionyslus, no ! I am no traitor ! But in mine allegiance To my lost country, I proclaim thee one ! Dion, My guards there ! Ho! Damon. What 1 hast thou then invoked Thy satellites already ? Enter Pbocies aiid Soldiera. Dion. Seize him! (Damon rushes on DionysiuSf arid attempts to stab him) Damon. First, Receive a freeman's legacy ! — {He is intercepted by Proc/<> Act II] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 27 Ser. My lord, no word. Pyih. And those time-cheating knaves I sent to know, — They have not yet returned ? Ser. Not yet, my lord. Pyth. Run thither, then — for thou art light-limb'd, • Regard Lord Damon well ; note how he seems, And what he says — On, on. Ser. My Lord, I will. Pyth, And hark ! Observe of all if any words of wrath Pall between him and Dionysius — ' Begone ! [Earii Servant. Pyth. He is hotly mettled. And not life's autumn, nor the discipline , Of cold Pythagoras' school has tam'd it yet. Enter a Servant. Ser. My lord, — Pyth. Now sir, what from the senate-house ? .Ser. My lord, I know not of the senate-house. Pyth. Not, sir ! I sent thee thither, did I not ? Ser. Another, sir. I am despatched to say, That all the guests and witnesses are come. And that with them the bride Calanthe waits - To have thy company to the temple. Pyth. How ! ^ Is it the hour ? Ser. The hour, my lord, is past. [Exit Servant. Pyth. Did ever man upon his wedding-day Feel so impatient of the hour arriv'd That is to bless him ? But I dare not stir Till I have tidings of my friend — He is Expos'd to deadly loss, and may have need Of Pythias' sword. By Heaven, I do him wrong In tarrying from his presence at an hour So full of peril, and perhaps of death. Death, did I say ? I must Enter Auria. drria. Now, Pythias, Pythias, 28 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act II Why is it that we wait so long for thee ? Fie ! thou a bridegroom ! absent now ? Fi/th. Gods! if that Dionysius Should level at his life ! — 1 pr'ythee, Arria, How soon might one with active and light foot Run to the senate-house, and back again, From hence ? Arria. Is the man craz*d and lunatic ? Is it your pleasure that we wait a season, 1, sir, Calanthe, and our guests and kinsmen. For your best humour to get wedded in ? Pi/th. Good Arria, pardon me ; take not amiss This absent seeming — but I am not well, I know not how, but so you see it is — Give me an half-hour — ay, the half— the tithe Of such a time '. Arria. Pythias, indeed art ill ? Pi/th. rfuith, I am — sick in the head and heart ! Bear with me, Arria ; go among our guests. And cheat their notice of this accident, I shall be better quickly — Well, quite well. Arria. The gods forefend it should fall otherwise. {Exit. Pyth. O how these leaden-footed limping minutes I/ag and creep beneath my lashing wish! When fiery expectation mounts the time. Time is a spiritless and jaded steed, Tliat staggers 'neath his rfder. Gracious gods ! Will none of them come to relieve this weight From my o'er loaded heart! — What shall I do ? Ualanthe! Enter Calanthe. Cal. My dear Pythias! Fijtk. Calanthe! Cal. My mother whispered me you were not well; And here, even us you- see me, though you should not Have seen me in nty bridal garments thus Till we were wedded — yet even thus, I'o speak with you, and comfort you, £ came. , Pyth. Beshrew iier heart now, though slje be thy mother. Act 11] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 29 For such ill-tim'd and womanish whispering". I am as well, as 1 am happy too. Cal. She said, too, but I heed it not- Fyth. What said she? Cal. She pray'd the gods your sickness might be free From surfeit sickness : but I heed it not : You know I heed it not ; I cannot think Your heart is such a bad one, Tythias, Pyih, How! Cal. I do not think 'tis in your very nature To stumble so — at least, I do not think You would have waited till this very hour. When, like two plants that have been long in neigh- bourhood, Our souls had crept and twin'd around each other. Leaves, fibres, roots, and all ! Pyth. Tears, my Calanthe ! How like a virgin morn in May thou art, That would be wedded to the amorous day, In all its watery freshness ! My fair girl. The maiden pulse beating upon thy brow Is not so faithful to its sister pulse, Which throbs within this little heart of thine, As I have been, and am ! — Ha ! dost thou smile ? Now, by the gods! I cannot see thee smile, And tarry longer from the property Of this dear hand I grasp. Come, my Calanthe, They tarry for us, do they not ? Cal. They do. Pyth. Nay, do not bend thy head, but let me gaze Upon thee as we go, that those fine looks. So full of life and joy, may banish from me The ghastly thought of death ! Cal. Death 1 Pyth. Nay, forgive me ; I know not what I say. — Ye bounteous gods. Who guard the good, because yourselves are good, Wave your protecting arm around him ! — Come, — O, Friendship! thou must yield it for a time To the torch-bearer, when he lights his fires c 2 so DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act II From two such eyes as tjiese are ! — Come, Calanthe. [Exeuni. Scene IV. — Jl Du7igeon. Damon discovered at a table, luriting. Damon. Existence! wliat is that? a name ibr notli- ing"! U is a cloudy sky chas'd by the winds ; lis fickle form no sooner chosen than chang'd ; It is the whirling of the mountain flood, Which, as we look upon it, keeps its shape, 'i'hough what compos'd that shape, and what com- poses, Hath pass'd — will pass — nay, and is passing on, Kven while we think to hold it in our eyes. And deem it there. Fie! fie! a feverish vision, A crude and crowded dream, unwill'd, unbidden, By the weak wretch that dreams it. Enter Procles and Guards. Proc. Damon, thine hour is come. Damon. Fast, sir, say past, — to come argues a stay Upon the coming. He has refus'd me then— Your general, Dionysius !— the king — He has refused me even, this little respite I ask'd of him ? Proc. All! he refuses all. Damon. Did'st tell him why I ask'd it .«' Did'st ex- plain It was to have my wife warn'd here to Syracuse, From her near dwelling upon Etna's side. To see me ere I die ? Proc. I said it, sir. Damon. And he refused it ? Proc. Ay, sir; he refus'd. Damon. Upon the instant, Proc. Yes, upon the instant. Damon. Is he not wedded ? Proc. Yes. Damon. A father, too ? AetU] DAMON ASM FYTlilAS. 31 Proc. He is a futlicr, toj. Damon. And he refus'd it ? I will attend you, and 1 pray you pardon — This is no time to play the cutechist — The little boon I have to bc-j^ of thee. It is the last ; 1 would not fnin be irksonrie ; It is the last I shall prc'eron eartii Unto my fellow-inen. This is my testament — 1 pray thee give it to a friend of mine Who may inquire about me ; he will hold it And use it for my wife. J^roc. His name ? Damon. It is ~ I did not wish to trust my coward tongue With utterance of that name ; I fear'd it would Pluck up all manhood by the roots ; but, sir, This now is childish ; Pythias, sir — Alas ! To-day will prove a woful wedding-day To thee, and thy Calanthe '.—and my Hermion, My fond, poor Hermion, and my boy Good Pro- cles, Let me not stand here talking idly thus — I am quite ready — on, sir ; I attend you ! {Exeunt. ACT ill. Scene I. — A Temple of Hymsn. Pythias an JCalaxthe discovered, tvith Kuu\x, Guests, PriestSy and Virgins — Fytldas holding Calanthe's hand. Jlyynn. 1st Priest and 1st Virgin, Thou beneath whose holy smile Lips may meet, and not defile, And hands and hearts together cling, Fearless of shame and sorrowing : The vows we offer. Hymen, hear , Jlecord the oath thv votaries swear i 32 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act III Bless the hands that now are plight, And sanctify the nuptial rite ! Chorus. Bless the hands that now are plight. And sanctify the nuptial rite ! 1st Priest. Thou, who turn'st to holy fire The sinful blaze of young desire. 1st Virgin, Thou, whose hand-maid virtues deck The bridal flowers for beauty's neck. That the fond maid as blest may be, And meet his wooing modestly. Chorus. Bless the hands that now are plight. And sanctify the nuptial rite ! At the beginning of this Chorus^ Pythias and Calanthe kneel; at the close of it, Lucullus enters, and runs up to Pythias, and -whispers him; Pythias lets drop Calanthe's hand, and starts up. Pyth. Hold ! hush your songs of Hymen, for I hear A raven's croaking, that discordantly Breaks in upon your joyous melody ! (To iwc.) Where, sirrah, where? Where, shall I speak with him ? Luc. He did desire, my lord, that I should lead you. Pyth. And not say where ? Luc. It was his charge, my lord. Pyth. In one word, say the hour and place of this. Or — ha ! I see it in thine eye — his life, "" His life is forfeit — he isdoom'd to death! Luc. Alas ! my lord. Pyth. O, by the gods, it is so ! And like a selfish coward did I stand. And saw him rush and singly front himself Against a host, when it was evident Act III] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 33 As is the universal li^ht of day, He must have perish'd in't — Coward ! cowaid ! He would not thus have done ! Iaic. My lord, Pyth. Speak not, I know thou would'st admonish me to speed, Or see him dead. Cal. Pythias! Jirria. Where would'st thou go ? Would you yet more insult us ? Cal. Pythias 1 Pyth. Now let me go— away, I say • Cal. Pythias! Pyth. I say unloose me, or by all — Thou art as guilty, with thy blandishments, That did provoke this ruin, as I am For being tempted by thee ! —Woman, away ! Cal. Unkind one! Pyth. Ha ! thou weepest !— O, Calanthe ! Forgive me — pity me — I am desperate ! I know not what I do— but — (Embraces her,) — O, Calanthe, There is a horrid fate that tears me hence. . Now, Sirrah, lead me on !— Away ! away ! (^Btishes out -with LucuUus.) [Sce7ie closes on the rest. Scene H.— .2 Street. Enter Dximoi Though in the holy place where we had met To vow ourselves away unto each other, Though there, when I was kneeling at thy feet, Thou did'st forswear, and mock at me—yet here I do forgive thee all — and I will love thee As never woman lov'd her young heart's idol. So thou but speed'st to safety. Pyth. Hold, Calanthe.— If mothers love the babe upon the breast. When it looks up with laughter in its eyes, Making them weep for joy—if they can love, I loved, and do love thee, my Calanthe : — But wert thou magnified above thyself. As much in fascination as thou art Above all creatures else, — by all the gods, In awful reverence sworn, I would not cheat My honour ! Cal. How ! Dion. Madman, what dost intend ! Pyth. Dost thou not know the tvrant spar'd his life, On the security I gave for him — Stand I not here liis pledge ? ^ I}ion. (aside.) 'Tis wonderful I d2 42 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act III His brow is fix'd ; his eye is resolute. Cal. Pythias, mine idoliz'd and tender Pythias — Am I then scorn'd? — Behold ! look, Pythias, there! Pyth. What do I see ? Cal. Thy father,— Nicias ! He who did give thee being", and the blood That bvibbles round thy heart. Since my poor tears Are valueless, hear him, and disobey not. Pijth. Ha! dream I this? Dion, {aside.) There ! he is shaken there ! Enter Nicias, extremely old and feeble. JK'icias. Where is my son, the child of my old years. The last of all my blood— where is my son ? I scarce behold the day -light — where is my son ? Pyih. Here, father, here ! J\'icias. Is this my Pythias' hand ? Arc these his arms that press me ? O, my son, Come to thy father's heart ! Child of my age, I do believe thou lov'st me ! Pyth. O, my father! Witness these burning tears, tears which came not In such a gush as now. J\''icias. Upon my lonely bed, thy long lost name, Pronounc'd in shrieking anguish, to mine ear Came, and I heard it — the first human sound That for a lapse of time held intercourse "With my forgotten heart— and lo i 1 heard it! And then lask'd of thee, and what they purpos'd To do on thee — and here I came, my son, To go with thee to safety. Pyth. Spare me that! All things I'll do but that ; and that I dare not do. J\ricias. The tyrant doth break fiiith vi'ith thee. Pyth. 'Tis said so. Cal. And Damon cannot come to be thy ransom. Pyth. I have heard it, my Calanthe, Cal. And that thou — That thou — O gods !— must die when he comes not ? Pv^/i. And that! know, Caianthe, Act III] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 43 Ca/. If thou knowest it, What is thy heart, that it can still be obstinate ? Pyth. I should not have heard it ; or, having heard it, I still may hold it false. This busy world Is but made up of slight contingencies — There are a thousand that may alter this, Or leave it where it was : — there is not one Should push us a mere point from any pledge Of manliness and honour. JSTicias. Look on thy father, Pythias— he scarce sees His son— darkness has pour'd her waters on him. Quenching the spark that lights up human life, In gay variety ; yet I would Hve. Pyth. And' ^ti would I, my fath^,>| /- IJAg t>sAj*p^t,Jieii:ii^»8L,-ugnd,cHein^yfou ! Ove to possess my own Calanthe here. Who recommends existence with a smile So sad and beautiful !— Yet would I live, But not dishonour'd— Still, Calanthe, he may return! May ! may ! — That word ends all ! — Death looks but grimly, And the deep grave is cheerless— yet I do — I do prefer the certainty of death Unto the possibility of dishonour ! J\^icias. Pythias my son, the cold dim house of death — To be a lonely, shuddering tenant in it, Or live in sunshine one's own young heart gives out! Thy hand, Calanthe ; give thy hand, my girl,— And thine, my son— here, take her— save, or lose her! Ca!. Thyself, and me 1 Save both! Dioji. Behold ! Behold! {Fointing to the side of the stage.) The good ship hath her streaming signal out ! The canvass swells up to the wooing wind ! The boat puts off— now, now, or never! Cal. See How swiftly, in her gallant liberty 44 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act III She comes through the calm sea ! — 0, hark ! the oars, How rapidly they plash in harmony ! O look at freedom, Pythias look at it ! How beautiful it is upon t!ie sea ! Pythias, my Pythias — O ! how we shall laugh "While bounding o'er the blessed wave that bears us From doom and death, to some fair Grecian isle ! Dion. See, they approach ! dost hesitate ? JVicias. My son ! Cal. Pythias ! — my husband, Pythias ! Pyth. No ! no ! so help me heaven ! — 'Tis hard ! — It plucks my heart up— but, no ! no ! {Kneels.) Cal. Q, gods ! (She falls mto his arms.) ScEXE I. — The exterior of Damon's Villa. Enter Damon- and Ltjcullus. Damon. At last, I have arriv'd ! At last, Lucullus, I've reach'd the place to which my heart did send Its throbbing far before mc. {Leans on Lucullus.) Lvc. Good, my lord. Damon. It is not for the beauty of this place. It is not for the keen intenser sense Existence hath in this delicious spot, Where every breath is a nev/ act of bliss, — Lucullus, no ; it is, t!iat here my wife — That here in this enchanting solitude. My boy, my only one — T dare not see them ! Lucullus, wer't not better togo back, And die without beholding them ? Lxic. My lord, The day moves on in Heaven; jou have little t'wne Left for this fatal parting. Damon. Come, 1 must wake My manhood up again ! — I will go in At once, Lucullu?; go thou hence, Lucullus, Act IV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 45 And tend our horses. — T have scarcely power To lift the latch. (^Looks out.) O, gods ! Luc. What is the matter > Damon. Look! there she is, Lucullus, and my boy Beside her.— She (poor sv/eet thing- 1) in the bovver Of jasmine, where she knows I love to sit And look upon the setting of the sun. Prepares a little feast for me. Behold With what a diligence she puts in trim Her banquet of fair fruits ! — My little boy, too. Waits at her side, and with uplifted hands Unto her care doth minister 1 To-day, I said that I should visit her, and this Is meant for my reception. — Come, come, Damon, Be a man again ! — Lucullus, take thou care To have our horses ready. — How I tremble ! {Exit Damon. JLuc. Never shall he return, if there be power In this quick hand to cast an intercept Between him and perdition : though it cost My life, he shall not die ; perhaps he'll kill me, But time shall come, when at Lucullus' name. He will lift up his hands, and weep for me ! [Exit. Scene II. — .^ Garden, HERMioif discovered arranging a little Feast. — Her Child beside her, luith a basket of Flowers, Child. Will he come soon home, mother! Herm^ I pray the gods He may, my child. Child. It seems so long a time Since he has ta'en me on his knee, and kiss'd me. Herm. Hark thee, my boy ! This is the hour, wherein Lucullus said He would arrive to-day to visit us. Go, see if he be coming ; he'll be glad To greet the rosy fruit upon thy cheeks. Even as he enters our sweet garden heie. Hie thee, and bear me word if he approaches — The first kiss shall be thine. {Exit Child. 46 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act IV Herm. Thou unkind Damon ! To send me here to woman*s loneliness, A prey to all the sickening hopes and fears I must have of thee, in these blustering' times. Enter Damox, ivith the Child in his arms. Child See, I have found him for you, mother ! Herm. Ha ! Damon, Hermion ! my treasure, Hermion ! Herm, My dear lord 1 had prepar'd this little feast for you, But hope at last grew sick within my heart. And I could hardly force it to a thought That yet thou would'st arrive — Oft 1 look'd out Upon the weary way thou should'st have journeyM, And oft the hills' dim vapour rose like Damon, Till the sun came to shape it, and to show me That yet tiiou wert away. Damon. And are ye then, Are ye so helpless in our absence, Hermion ! Herm. Come, now — you know it. O my dear, dear husband ! If I should tell thee of my q\iaking heart. While thou art bustling there in Syracuse, — Why wilt thou start ? — 'twould cheat thee of thy tears, And make thee womanish ; and — for I know Thou lov'st thy own poor Hermion, — thou should'st swear Never again to leave her. Damon. Nerve me. Heaven ! Herm. Indeed thou should'st ! and look thee here, my Damon, But for this little boy, who is so like thee Damon. Is he so very like me, Hermion ? Herm. Nay, A very little self of thee ; — and, but For looking long into his face — so long That the tears blinded me, — I've half consented To think it was thyself; and then I kiss'd My boy, and I was happy for a time. And but for this, my Damon, and bis talk. Act IV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 47 His childish prattle on my knee, of what He would achieve and be — Come, Sir, rehearse These matters over ; say what would'st thou be i Damon. What would'st thou be, my boy ? Child. A soldier, father. Damon. Come, come, now, not a soldier. Child.,Nay, but I'd choose, sir, To be what Pythias is. Damon. {Much moved.) Thou art a brave boy ? Go pluck a flower from yonder gay recess. At the other end of the garden'. — Wreathe me now The fairest garland for my welcome — there — A brave, brave boy. [Exit Child, Now, gods! — {Aside.) Herm. Dost thou not think He grows apace ? Damon. Have I in all my life Given thee an angry look, or word, or been Ever an unkind mate, my Hermion ? Herm. Never! the gods know, never! Damon. From thy heart Thou sayest this ? Herm. Yea, from my inmost heart ! Damon. I am glad of it : for thou wilt think of this When I am dead, my Hermion : and 'twill make thee The kindest mother to our boy 1 Herm. O, gods ! Why dost thou talk of death ? Damon, thy cheek, Thy lip is quivering — art sick, or griev'd 'With some discomfiture? O, these wild wars And bickerings of the state, how have they robbed thee Of thy soul's quiet ! Damon. Tell me, tell me, Hermion, — Suppose I should impart the heaviest news That could possess thine ear, how would'st thou bear it? Jlerm. Laugh at it ! — mock at it to make thee smile, And teach thee to be happy in despite Of any turn of fortune. — What dost thou mean? What heavy news ? I know the part thou takest In the state's service. — Hath the tyrant risen ? 48 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act IV Damon. He hath ; but that's not it. Herm. The Carthagenians Have sack'd the city ? Damon. No ! Herm. Why then thy friend So well belov'd of thee — Pythias! — 'tJs he ! Damon. No, thank the gods, not he ! Herm. What is it then ? — The heaviest news that could possess mine ear ! Ha ! *tis thyself— some danger hath befallen thee. Or threatens thee. — Speak, my dear Damon, speak, Or I shall die of thoughts that come to kill me ! Damon. When I wooed thee, Hermion, 'Twas not the fashion of thy face, or form, Though from the hand of Heaven thou camest so rich In all external loveliness, it was not Such excellence that rivetted my heart And made me thine ; but I said to myself. Thus : — Here is one, who, haply were I wreck'd, Or, were 1 to-morrow, or a later day. Struck down by fortune — Herm. Wert thou made as low From what thou art as earth's foundation-stone Is from the top of Etna — did men scorn thee — Damon. Nay, thus I said, my Hermion :— Did the blow Fall deadly as it might — here is a woman Who hath such firm devotion in her love. She would not rend my heart, but for my sake, — And, should we have a child, for his sake too, — Bear firmly up, though death itself — Berm. Death! Death! Damon: ( Giving her the testament.') Take this — read this — 'twill speak what I cannot — I thought I could, and by the gods I cannot ! Herm. Ha ! here's a poisoning adder in this scroll, It eats into my heart I— Die, Damon! Death ! When ? how ? I cannot understand it — Die I Where ? what offence ? Damon. I have been doom'd to death by Dionysius. Berm. But thou hast 'scaped the sentence ; thou art here. Act IV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 49 Alone ! unguarded ! — It is but to fly To Greece, or Italy, or any where From this. Damon. From this to Syracuse. — I'll tell thee — Ere now I had been dead — Herm. No ! no ! Damon. Ere this I had been dead, but that my friend, my Pythias, By putting on my fetters — giving up Himself as hostage for my sure return, — Wrought on the tyrant to bestow me time To see thee here. Herm. By the wide world, thou shalt not ! I hold thee here — these arms encompass thee As doth thy heart its life-spring ! Damon. Not! Herm. Thou shalt not ! Damon. Not ! not return !— Not go to take my friend Out of the fetters I have hung upon him ? Herm. Life ! to save that, the wrong becomes the right ! The gods that made us have so quicken'd us, Nature so prompts us, and all men forgive it, Because all men would do it. — By the love (If thou hast any) of thy wife and child — Ay, frown— do Damon, frown, and kill me too. Or live for us ! Re-enter Child -mth Jloxvers. The blessed gods have sent thee With thy sweet helplessness—kneel down, my child, Hold up thy little hands with mine, and pray Not to be made an orphan — not so soon, So very soon ! — Kind Damon, look upon us ! Husband, look on us, we are at thy feet ! Damon. Ye are !— I see it, and my heart bleeds for ye ! I must turn my eyes away from you While you are urging me to my dishonour, E 50 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act IV And bid me murder him that I may live ! Hermion farewell ! (Turning- round aud embracing her.) fferm. (In agony) Live Damon ! live ! live ! live ! Damon. Hermion, my life, look up ! awake, my Hermion. (6726 srvoons in his arms.) Unier an old Servant. Damon. The hour is past! I trifle with necessity ! Hermion ! I now indeed must part from thee. All pale and cold and deaiii-like as thou art: Thus may I part from thee, to g-o and be Myself full soon as cold ! — Here, here, old man, Here, hold her from the earth, — ( Giving Hermion to the old Servant.) And say to her. With what a broken-hearted love I press'd her For the last time ! — And, Neucles, for my sake Be thou a faithful servant when i am gone ! Once more — My child too! — O, this is too much ! My little orphan ! — My dear boy ! the gods, The gods will take my care of thee, my child ! {Rushes out, ScENB HI. — The exterior of Damon^s Villa. Enter Lucdllus. Luc. It is achiev'd ! He comes ! in desperate hasto He rushes from the garden — Shall I fly From the swift fury that will wait upon The terrible revealment ? — 'Tis too late! Enter Damox. Damon. 'Tis o'er, Lucullus — Bring thou forth my horse — lihave staid too long, Lucullus, and my speed Must leave the winds behind me : By the godj«, The sun is rushing down the west i Luc. My Lord Damon. Why dost thou tremble ? Fetch the co- lour back Act IV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. St Into thy cheek, man, nor let thy weak knees Knock on each other in their cowardice ! Time files — be brief— g-o bring my horse to met Be thou as swift as speech, or as my heart is! Ziic. My lord, Damon. Why, slave, dost hear me ? My horse, I say ! The hour is past already "Whereon I bade old Neucles summon me. Liic. My .c^enerous master, do not slay me 1 Damon. Slave ! Art mad ? or dost thou mock me in the last And fearfullest extremity ?-r-Yet you speak not ! Luc. You were ever kind and merciful, nor yet Commended me unto the cruel whip, And I did love you for it ! Damon. Where's my steed ? Luc. When I beheld the means of saving" you I could not hold my hand — my heart was in it. And in my heart, the hope of giving life And liberty to Damon; and Damon. Go on ! T am listening to thee ! Lite. And in hope to save you, I slew your steed ! Damon. Almighty heavens! Luc. Forgive me ! Damon. 1 am standinghere to see if'the great gods Will with their lightning execute my prayer Upon thee ! But thy punishment be mine ! I'll tear thee into pieces ! (seizes him.) Luc. Spare me ! Spare me ! 'Tis horrible to die ! — I saved thy life, — O do not thou take mine ! Damon. My friend ! my friend ! O that the word would kill thee ! Pythias is slain ! — his blood is on my soul ! He cries, where art thou, Damon ? Damon, where art thou ? And Damon's here ! — The axe is o'er bis neck,— And in his blood I'm delug'd ! Luc. Spare me •' Spare me ! 52 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act IV Damon. A spirit cries, 'Revenge and sacrifice!' I'll do it— I'll do it— Come— Luc. Where should I go ? Damon. To the eternal river of the dead ! The way is shorter than to Syracuse, — 'Tis only far as yonder yawning gulf— I'll throw thee with one swing to Tartarus, And follow after thee ! — Nay, slave, no struggling ! Pythias is grown impatient ! His red ghost Starts from the ground, and with a bloody hand Waves to the precipice ! Luc. Have mercy ! Damon. Call For mercy on the Furies — not on me ! [Exit Damojit dragging Lucullus out. ACT V. Scene I. — A public Place in Syracuse. — A Scaffold^ toith steps ascending to it, upon the right hand — In the back of the Stage, the Gates of a prison. — Exe- cutioner, -with an Axe^ and Guards discovered. Enter Damocles and Pkocles. Proc. It is a marvellous fantasy, thou speakest of In Dionysius. Dam. Yes, his mind is made Of strange materials, that are almost cast Jn contrariety to one another. The school and camp in his ambition make A strange division : with the trumpet's call, He blends the languor of the poet's lyre ! The fierce intrepid captain of the field Hath often on the great Athenian stage Cop'd with the mightiest monarchs of the Muse, And in mine apprehension, he doth prize The applauses of that polished populace More than the rising shout of victory. ActV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. S3 Proc. And over all, that science which doth hold Touching" the soul and its affections, Its high discoursing- hath attracted him. It is his creed that in this flesh of ours Self ever entertains predominance, And to all friendsiiip he hath ever been A persevering infidel. For this, Belike, he tries a strange experiment. "What sayest thou ? Will Damon come again ? It urges on the crisis of the danger. JDam. Our love of life is in the very instinct Of mere material action ! when we do Even so slight a thing, as wink an eye Against the wind. Place me a soulless dog Upon the bare edge of a height, and he Shall shudder and shrink back, though none have prov'd To his capacity that the fall were dangerous. I hold the thing impossible. Proc. He'll not ? Dam. What, when he feels his pent-up soul abroad. His limbs unfetter'd, and the mountain-breeze Of liberty all around him, and his life Or death upon his own free choice dependent ? ^ Tis visionary ! Proc. But is there no hope Of Dionysius* mercy ? Dam. He'll not give A second's hundredth part to take a chance in. His indignation swells at such a rashness. That in its fling of proud philosophy Can make him feel so much out-soar'd and humbled. What a vast multitude upon the hills Stretch their long blackening outline in the round Of the blue heavens ! Proc. They wait the great event. Mute expectation spreads its anxious hush O'er the wide city, that as silent stands As its reflection in the quiet sea. Behold upon the roof what thousands gaze Toward the distant road that leads to Syracuse! z2 54 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [ActV An hour ago a noise was heard afar, Like to the pulses of the restless surge ; But as the time approaches, all grows still As the wide dead of midnight ! Calanthe. {Without.) There's no power Shall stay me back ! I must behold him die, Then follow him ! Enter Ca^la:stb^, folloived by Arria. Arria. My child ! Cal. I cannot hear thee ! The shrieking of the Furies drowns thy cries! Arria. This is no place for thee — no place,. Calan- the, For such a one as thou ! Cal. No other place Is fit for such a wretch ! I am his wife Betrothed, though not married. There is no place For me but at his side : In life or death There is no other. There is the scaffold with the block on it ! There is the — O, good gods! Araia. Come back, my child ! Good Damocles, give me your aid to bear This wretched woman hence. Cal. O, mother, mother, I'll not be grudg'd that horrible delight ! I'll take & long and maddening look of him, Whom in the morning I thought I should have wait- ed, Blushing within the chamber of a bride, And with a heart all full of love and fear. Now I await him in a different place. And with a cheek that ne'er shall blush again ; Whose marble may be spotted o'er with blood. But not with modesty : love yet remains. But fear its old companion's fled away, And made room for despair I Enter Dionysius, still in disguise. Ha ! are you come ? Act V] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 55 'Twas you that brought it to me for a guest, And froze the running- currents in my bosom To one deep cake of ice ! You said too well That Damon would not come — The selfish traitor ! The traitor Damon ! Dion. Hark thee, Calanthe I It was an idle tale I told to thee ! Cal. Ha ! Jjion. A mere coinage, an invention. Cal. I do not ask thee why that tale was fram'd,— Tram'd in thy cold deliberate cruelty — But only this — one question : — May he yet — May Damon yet return ? JDion. He may— he is As free to come, or stay, as are the winds. Cal. And Dionysius withholds hira not ? Dion. He does not. Cal. Whatsoe'er thou art, the gods Tor that one word, be unto thee and thine Guardians for ever !— O, that ray of hope That breaks upon my soul, is worth a flood Of the sweet day-light of Elysium ! Damon may yet return ! — But, powers of Heaven ! Death is prepared already ! — What is the time ! Dion. Thou may'st perceive by yonder dial-plate Against the temple, six poor minutes only Are left for his return. Cal. And yet he comes not ! O but that temple, where the shade of time Moves unrelentingly, is dedicate To the great goddess of Fidelity — She will not in the face of her high fane Let such a profanation hurl for ever The altars of her worship to the ground ; For who will offer incense to her name If Damon's false to Pythias ? Ha ! they unbar The ponderous gates !— There is a clank of chams ! They are leading him to death I Dam. Bring forth the prisoner ■' 56 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [ActV The gates of the Prison are fiung open, and Ptthias is discovered, — He advances. Cal. Pythias ! Fifth. Calanthe here ! — My poor fond girl I Thou art the first to meet me at the block. Thou wilt be the last to leave me at the grave 1 How strangely things go on in this bad world — This was my wedding day ; but for the bride, I did not think of such a one as death ! I deemed I should have gone to sleep to-night, This very night — not on the earth's cold lap. But, with as soft a bosom for my pillow, And with as true and fond a heart-throii in it To lull me to my slumber, as e'er yet Couch'd the repose of love. — It was, indeed, A blissful sleep to wish for ! Cal. O, my Pythias, He yet may come ! Pyth. Calanthe, no ! — Remember That Dionysius hath prevented it. Cal. That was an idle tale of this old man, And he may yet return ! Pyth. May yet return ! Speak ! — how is this ? return ! — O life, how strong Thy love is in the hearts of dying men ! Thou art he did'st say the tyrant would prevent His coming back to Syracuse. Dion. I wrong'd him. Pyth. Ha ! were it possible ! — may he yet come ? Cat. Into the sinews of the horse that bears him Put swiftness, gods ! — let him outrace and shame The galloping of clouds upon the storm ! Blow breezes with him ; lend every feeble aid Unto his motion ! — and thou, thrice-solid earth, Forget thy immutable fixedness— become .0tk Under his feet like flowing water, and lit Hither flow with him ! ^ Pyth. I have taken in All the horizon's vast circumference That in the glory of the setting sun ActV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 67 Opens its wide expanse, yet do I see No signal of his coming! — Nay, 'tis likely — O, no — he could not ! It is impossible I Cal. I say, he is false ! he is a murderer ! He will not come ! the traitor doth prefer Life, ignominious, dastard life ! — Thou minister Of light, and measurer of eternity In this great purpose, stay thy going down, Great sun, behind the confines of the world ! On yonder purple mountains make thy stand ! For while thine eye is opened on mankind, Hope will abide within thy blessed beams — They dare not do the murder in thy presence ! Alas !'all heedless of my frantic cry. He plunges down the precipice of Heaven ! Tythias— O, Pythias ! Fyth. I could have borne to die Unmov'd by Dionysius — but to be torn Green from existence by the friend I lov'd, — Thus from the blossoming and beauteous tree Rent by the treachery of him I trusted ! — No ! no ! I wrong thee, Damon, by that half thought, Shame on the foul suspicion ! he hath a wife. And child, who cannot live on earth without himj And heaven has flung some obstacle in his way To keep him back, and lets me die who am Less worthy, and the fitter. Proc. Pythias, advance ! Cal. No, no ! why should he yet ? It is not yet- By all the gods, there are two minutes only ! Proc. Take a last farewell of your mistress, sir. And look your last upon the setting sun — And do both quickly, for your hour comes on ! Fyth. Come here, Calanthe ! closer to me yet !~ Ah ! what a cold transition it will be From this warm touch all full of life and beauty, Unto the clammy mould of the deep grave ! i pr'ythee, my Calanthe, when I am gone. If thou should'st e*er behold my hapless friend. Do not upbraid him ! This, my lovely one, Js my last wish — Remember it ! 58 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act V Cal. (PFhOf during' this speech, has been looking loildly toioards the side of the stage.) Hush! Hush! Stand back there ! Pyth. Take her, you eternal gods, Out of my arms into your own ! — Befriend her! And let her life glide on in gentleness, For she is gentle, and doth merit it. Cal. I think I see it Proc. Lead her from the scaflTold ! Pyth. Arria, receive her! — yet one kiss— farewell! Thrice — thrice — farewell ! — I am ready, sir. Cal. Forbear ! There is a minute left — look there ! look there ! But 'tis so far off, and the evening shades Thicken so fast, there are no other eyes But mine can catch it — Yet, 'lis there ! I see it— A shape as yet so vague and questionable 'Tis nothing, just about to change and take The faintest form of something ! Pyth. Sweetest love ! I>am. Your duly, officer. Cal. I will not quit him Until ye prove I see it not ! — no force Till then shall separate us. Dam. Tear them asunder ? Arria, conduct your daughter to her home. Cal. O, send me not away — Pythias, thine arms — Stretch out thine arms, and keep me! — see, it comes! Barbarians ! — Murderers ! — O, yet a moment — Yet but one pulse — one heave of breath! (), heavens! [_She siooons, and is carried away by Arria and Guards. Pyth. {To the Execuiioner) There is no pang in thy deep wedge of steel After that parting. — Nay, sir, you may spare Yourself the pains to fit me for the block. — [Drawing the lining of his tunic lower. Damon, I do forgive thee ! — I but ask Some tears unto my ashes ! — [A shout is heard — Pythias leaps up on the scaffold. Act V] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 59 JBy the gods, A horse, and horseman ! — Far upon the hill They wave their hats, and he returns it — yet I know him not— his horse is at the stretch. (.5 shout) Why should ihey shout as he comes on ? It is No ! — that was too unlike— but there now — there ! O, life, I scarcely dare to wish for thee, And yet — that jutting rock has hid him fi-om me— No ! — let it not be Damon ! — lie has a wife And child ! — gods ! keep him buck ! Damon (IVil/iOiii) Where is he ? I fie rushes in, and stands for a moment^ looking round. Ha! He is alive ! untouched ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! [Falls -loith an hysterical laugh tipon the scaffold, (^Loud shouls tviihout.) Pyth. The gods lio know I could have died for him! And yet I dared to doubt ! — I dared to breathe The haU-utler'd blasphemy ! (Damon is raised up.) He faints !— H%v thick This wreath of burning moisture on his brow ! His face is black witli toil, liis swelling bulk Heaves with swift paiitings — Damon, my clear friend! Damon. Where am I ? Have I fallen from my horse. That I am stunn'd, and on my head 1 feel A weight of thickening blood! — What has befallen me ? The horrible confusion of a dream Is yet upon my sight. — For mercy's sake^ Stay me not back — he is about to die ! Pythias, my friend ! — Unlo(;se me, villains, or You will find the might of madness in mine arm.' {Sees Pyih.) Speak to me, let me hear thy voice ! J^yih. My friend ! Damon. It pierc'd my brain, and rush'd into my heart ! There's lightning in it ! — That's the scaffold— there The block — the axe — the executioner ! And here he lives! — I have him in my soul ! {Embracea Pythias.) Ha! ha! ha! 60 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [ActV Pyth. Damon ! Damon. Ha ! ha ! I can but laugh 1 — I cannot speak to thee ! I can but play the maniac, and laugh ! Thy hand ! — O, let me grasp thy manly hand !- It is an honest one, and so is mine ! They are fit to clasp each other ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! Pyth. Would that my death could have preserv'd thee ! Damon. Pythias, Even in the very crisis to have come,-— To have hit the very forehead of old time ! By heavens ! had I arrived an hour before, I should not feel this agony of joy, — This triumph over Dionysius ! Ha ! ha ! — But did'st thou doubt me ? Come, thou did'st— Own it, and I'll forgive. Pyth. For a moment. Damon. O that false slave ! — Pythias, he slew my horse, In the base thought to save me ! I would have kill'd him. And to a precipice was dragging him, When from the very brink of the abyss I did behold a traveller afar, Bestriding a good »teed — I rush'd upon him ; Choking with desperation, and yet loud In shrieking anguish, I commanded him Down from his saddle : he denied me — but Would I then be denied ? as hungry tigers Clutch their poor prey, I sprung upon his throat. Thus, thus I had him, Pythias ! Dion, {advancing.) Damon ! Damon. I am here upon the scaffold ; look at me : I am standing on my throne ; as proud a one As yon illumin'd mountain, where the sun Makes his last stand : let him look on me too ; He never did behold a spectacle More full of natural glory. Death is — Ha ! All Syracuse starts up upon her hills, ActVj DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 61 And lifts her hundred thousand hands. She shouts. Hark, how she shouts ! (shouts heard.) O, Dionysius, When wert thou in thy life hail'd with a peal Of hearts and hands like that one ? Shout again ! 'Again, until the mountains echo you, And the great sea joins in that mighty voice, ^^ And old Enceladus, the son of earth, ' Stirs in his mighty caverns. Tell me, slaves, ^ Where is your tyrant ! Let me see him now ; ^ Why stands he hence aloof? Where is your master? ^ What is become of Dionysius ? '^ I would behold, and laugh at him. (DioNTSius advances bcttveen Damon and Py- thias, — Damon being on the scaffold, — and throws off his disguise.) Dion. Behold me. Damon and Pyth. How? Dion. Stay your admiration for awhile. Till I have spoken my commandment here. Go, Damocles, ai^ bid a herald cry Wide through the city, from the eastern gato Unto tlie most remote extremity, That Dionysius, tyrant as he is. Gives back his life to Damon. [s^it Damoclete Pyth. How, Dionysius ? Speak that again. Dion. I pardon him. ^. , Pyth. O, gods ! You give his life to Damon ? Dion. Life and freedom. Damon remains mute -with astonishment upon the scaffold.) Pyth. O, Dionysius ! O, my sovereign ! Life And freedom ! Let me fall down at your feet. And open all the sluices of my heart In one wild gush of weeping gratitude ! O, Damon ! (Damon continues motionless,) Dion. Almighty virtue, Now do I own and worship thee. I see The glorious spark which the Eternal one Struck from himself into tho soul of roan. P 62 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act V Blaze up Into such excelling majesty. It awes, while it illumes my heart. What hoa ! How, Damon, is it with thee? Come, descend : Let me conduct thee from this place of death. Into the bosom of your friend. Pyth. O, Damon ! Bamon. Pythias — good Dionysius — no, I cannot ; , Lend me your hand, good Pythias — I could weep. j {they take each other's handsy and remain looking av\ each other.) Dion. Until this wond'roushourl walk'd in error. And liv'd in darkness. Either my heart was born Blind to the light of virtue, or some film Hath crept upon its fine susceptibility. Pythias, 'twas I that visited your dungeon, To put youmaith unto the test ; and one thing Hath griev'd me in its issue — your old father — I'yth. He is dead ? Dio7i. The shock was terrible. Pyth. The earth Lie lightly on his bosom. Dio7i, But here is The loveliest face that ever yet was worn By consolation. Enter Calahthb. Cat. O, my Pythias I Pyth. Calanthe ! CaL My dear husband! Pyth. Thou hast heard all ? Cal. Yes — through the city a loud voice goes forth» Of gratitude, and piety, and exultation. Daman. Pythias ! O, Dionysius ! I did not In the wild wonder of recover'd life Appreciate the blessing ; but it rushes Now full and deep in one wide gush of joys Bursts in one tide of exultation. Oh, Pythias ! the thought Of Hermion is at my heart, and I Cannot hold back these tears. Dien. Damon and Pvthias, i Act V] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. (53 You have rewarded me : I now begin To taste of pleasures never touch'd before. Perfect the work you have begun, And I myself, by the continued light Of your example, may at last essay To tread such wond'rous ways of virtue with you. fthe curtain falla.J ¥B8 EKV, LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 386 036 n