Enter AULETES, and fervants. AULETES. My lord, your life's befet; the room beneath MYRON. Betray'd! Curft forcerefs; it was a plot, AULETES. No; firft enjoy, then murder her Trust to my conduct, and you still are safe. You bear Mandane to her closet-You Speed to the fouthern gate, and burst it open. [To the prince. [To fervants. [As the fervants feize Mandane, she gives the fignal. She is borne off. Enter RAMESES and confpirators, mask'd. RAMESES. The villain fled? Perdition intercept him! If he escapes us now, fuccefs attend him; [As they pass the stage in confufion, AULETES enters mask'd among them. Ha! Why halt you! AULETES. Purfue, Parfue, parfue; e'en now I faw the monfter, There, there, it burst. [A noife without. ALL. Away; pursue ! 'Tis done; AULETES. [Without.] Advance the maffy bar, and all is fafe: Stand here, and with your lives defend the pass. Enter MYRON. MYRON. I shall at least have time for vengeance on her. Their fwords are pointed at my life! "Tis well! I'll do, what done will fhock myself, and those Enter MANDANE, forc'd in by AULETES. By all the pow'rs that can revenge a falihood, MYRON. Why then your champions here in arms? 'Tis falfe, Ah! let my life fuffice MANDANE. you for the wrong wrong; Kill me, but not your friend, but not my father; He loves us both, and my fevere diftrefs Will scarce more deeply wound him than your guilt. [Myron walks paffionately at a distance. MYRON. Slaves, are you sworn against me? Stop her voice, MANDANE. O Sir! O Myron ! Behold my tears-Here will I fix for ever- A feparate death-but spare my spotless virtue ;- MYRON. [As fervants force in Mandane.] O Memnon! O my lord !-my life! where art thou ? As MYRON. many accidents concur to work My paffions up to this unheard-of crime, As if the gods design'd it—be it then Their fault, not mine-Memnon! Said fhe not Memnon? On On my wild paffion, to run headlong on, VOL. I. U ACT A C T IV. SCENE I. Enter MYRON in the utmost diforder, bare-headed, withou light, &c. Walks disturbedly before he speaks. MYRON. ENCEFORTH let no man truft the firft false step Hof guilt; it hange upon a precipice, Whose steep descent in laft perdition ends. [Enter Auletes Solemn The house is rouz'd; the fervants all alarm'd; The gilded tapers dart from room to room; |