Since she did give herself to these fond arms!
Shall I then wound her feelings! show her
The chaos of my own! What would it serve

To tell her my sad breast is tortured, rack'd,
Torn by conflicting passions! Pride, ambition,
Honour, and conscience - struggle there for mastery.
Ambition! all thy flattery will not ease

My pangs, nor silence my remorse! Thou too,
My meddling conscience, raisest images
That rend my soul! My father seems to stand
Before me, with reproachful look. -

Mine ears

Distracted, ring with sounds of " perjury!"
(Recovering himself.) I am too far advanced in glory's
path,

To be withheld by goblin fears; my pride
Forbids me to retract. What! shall I own
To grov'lling knaves, that Periander's conscience
Affrights, and turns him from the road to glory
The fates have pointed out? Like trembling slave,
Fearing the scourge, shall I cry out and say,

"I'm sorry for it?" - No: the die is cast.

[Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I.. A Grove. Woodland Scenery.

LYSANDER and PERDICEAS.

LYSANDER.

Did'st mark how tamely the proud tyrant bore

My keen reproach? With all his boasted pride,
Did'st mark his changing glance, and his blanch'd

cheek?

That told us of a mind not much at ease.

PERDICEAS.

Truly I did, and trembled at thy boldness!
He now gives Corinth opportunity

Procles comes,

To shake his chains from off her.
And with him brings the beautiful Egyptian.
From her I learn, that love of fair Melissa,
The secret motive of his coming hither,

Fills all the tyrant's soul. She gives him welcome
As Periander's friend, whose bold ambition

Aims at the throne, and, with the throne, Melissa!

LYSANDER.

Why, this is well; but, hark, he comes!

[Shouts behind the Scenes.

C

Enter PROCLES, with Citizens bearing Flags,
Bands of Music, &c.

Long live Procles!

мов.

PROCLES.

Thanks, good people. In me

Behold your friend, and city's willing guardian.
My troops will join with yours to serve the cause.
Your sovereign, in his absence, delegates

-

His powers to me. I'll use it to your profit.

See that your strict obedience to my orders

Proves your loyalty and love. - Give now full scope To social revelry; but, look ye,

Make this indulgence no pretence for rioting,
To give rebellious tongues licence to spread
Their calumny. Let festive sports bespeak
Your sense of Procles' presence, and avow
Your readiness to welcome him.

Away, sirs,

And let no clamour rude attend your steps.

[Exeunt Mob, shouting "Long live Periander!" Long live Procles!"

66

PROCLES, turning to LYSANDER AND PERDICEas. Sirs! methinks you join not in the welcome. Why stand ye thus in silence and aghast? Why bend your brows thus sternly? Know ye not I come invited. come to save ye from

And would enslave us, breaking his plighted oath!
Lend not thyself to such an act; - be thou
The friend of liberty, and help our cause.

PROCLES.

Thou dost but dream. He is thy lawful monarch.

LYSANDER.

We seek our freedom, and demand no king.
Peruse this fair memorial of our wrongs,
Nor give thine aid to rob us of our birthright.

PROCLES, looking at the Paper, (aside.) This will do - Extended power Melissa's

Charms! Blest chance! hail thee.

(Aloud.) I'll think on this; but I must coolly act, Nor hastily condemn my absent friend.

LYSANDER.

We thank thee, sir; and fear not the result.

[Exeunt LYSANDER and PERDICEAS.

PROCLES (after a Pause).

His wife, too! Men will talk of honesty!

Of trusting faith!- Pshaw-nurses' tales-no more!

It leads to power. If on his fall I rise,

'Tis destiny alone must take the blame.

'Tis plain, to conquest I am call'd; and must

All weaker feelings now resign — but then,
Amana! fond Amana! will she yield?

Nay, she shall comply.`

(Looks at the Paper.) Rebellious dogs!

Ye must be made my stepping-stone to power.
Why, this is right; thus traitors ever dig
The pit wherein themselves to fall. Fall then
Who
may, so Procles rise.
- I have embark'd
Upon a stormy ocean; no matter

Love and power –

or death and what?

no matter.

[Exit musing.

SCENE II. Garden - Sunrise-Fountain playing.

MELISSA and HELENA.

HELENA.

Forgive me if I say, my honour'd dame,

This grief indulged but ill becomes the wife

Of Corinth's king. How would he grieve to see
Thy wakeful eyes dimm'd with these unchecked tears!

MELISSA.

Oh, Helena! this heavy heart will break.

'Tis filled with pale affright, and direful thoughts. Can I be patient, when rebellion lifts