Enter ARMOSTES, with a casket. From whence come you? Arm. From king Amyclas,-pardon My interruption of your studies.-Here, In this seal'd box, he sends a treasure [to you], The pith and circumstance of every tittle Tec. What is 't, Armostes? Arm. It is the health of Sparta, the king's life, Your counsel now, grave man, his majesty Tec. Apollo [He takes the casket. Inspire my intellect !-The prince of Argos Is entertain'd? Arm. He is; and has demanded Our princess for his wife; which I conceive Tec. My duty to the king, good peace to Sparta, And fair day to Armostes! Arm. Like to Tecnicus. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room in ITHOCLES'S House. Soft music.-A Song within, during which PROPHILUS, BASSANES, PENTHEA, and GRAUSIS pass over the Stage. BASSANES and GRAUSIS re-enter softly, and listen in different places. SONG. Can you paint a thought? or number Can you count soft minutes roving All loves, all hearts, Bass. All silent, calm, secure.— Grausis, dost [thou] hear nothing? Grau. Not a mouse, Or whisper of the wind. Bass. Soldiers Should not affect, methinks, strains so effeminate; Sounds of such delicacy are but fawnings Upon the sloth of luxury. Grau. What do you mean, my lord ?—speak low; that gabbling Of yours will but undo us. Pro. [within.] He wakes. Ith. [within.] Who's there? Enter PROPHILUS. Pro. Lord Bassanes, your brother would be private, We must forbear; his sleep hath newly left him. Bass. By any means; 't is fit. Pro. Pray, gentlewoman, walk too. Grau. Yes, I will, sir. [Exeunt. The Scene opens: ITHOCLES is discovered in a chair, and PENTHEA beside him. Ith. Sit nearer, sister, to me; nearer yet: We had one father, in one womb took life, Were brought up twins together, yet have liv'd At distance, like two strangers; I could wish That the first pillow whereon I was cradled, Had prov'd to me a grave. Pen. You had been happy: Then had you never known that sin of life geance, For forfeiting the last will of the dead, Ith. Sad Penthea, Thou canst not be too cruel; my rash spleen Hath with a violent hand pluck'd from thy bosom A love-blest heart, to grind it into dust; For which mine 's now a-breaking. Pen. Not yet, heaven, I do beseech thee! first, let some wildfires Scorch, not consume it! may the heat be cherish'd A miserable creature, led to ruin Ith. I consume In languishing affections for that trespass; Pen. The handmaid to the wages Of country toil, drinks the untroubled streams And so allays her thirst secure; while I Quenen my hot sighs with fleetings of my tears. To gall, as bitter as Penthea's curse. Put me to any penance for my tyranny; Pen. Pray kill me, Rid me from living with a jealous husband; Pen. Such a one As only you have made me: a faith-breaker, Pen. I do not, Ithocles; For she that's wife to Orgilus, and lives Is, at the best, a whore. Wilt kill me now? The ashes of our parents will assume Some dreadful figure, and appear to charge Ith. After my victories abroad, at home I meet despair; ingratitude of nature Hath made my actions monstrous; thou shalt stand A deity, my sister, and be worshipp'd For thy resolved martyrdom; wrong'd maids Pure turtles, crown'd with myrtle; if thy pity One finger but to ease it. Pen. Oh, no more! Ith. Death waits to waft me to the Stygian banks, And free me from this chaos of my bondage; Of birth to any but my sister, durst not Pen. Let me, By your new protestations I conjure you, Ith. Her name ?—'t is,--'t is—I dare not. Calantha is--the princess-the king's daughter- Revenge thyself with bravery, and gossip Split even your very soul to see her father Ith. Trouble not The fountains of mine eyes with thine own story; I sweat in blood for 't. Pen. We are reconciled. Alas, sir, being children, but two branches Ith. Yes, in thee; Only in thee, Penthea mine. Pen. If sorrows Have not too much dull'd my infected brain, Ith. Madman!-Why have I wrong'd a maid so excellent ? |