And vows revenge upon the foes of Pyrrhus. The people arm and muster in the streets : Our Greeks will not be able long to guard The palace gates, and to secure our flight. We must be speedy, sir. Orest. You may depart, My friends-Hermione and I remain- Örest. Hermione no more!-Oh, all ye powers! Pyl. Full of disorder, wildness in her looks, With hands expanded, and dishevelled hair, Breathless and pale, with shrieks she sought the temple; In the mid-way she met the corpse of Pyrrhus ; She started at the sight; then, stiff with horror, Gazed frightful: waking from the dire amaze, She raised her eyes to heaven with such a look, As spoke her sorrows, and reproached the gods: Then plunged a poniard deep within her breast, And fell on Pyrrhus, grasping him in death. Orest. I thank you, gods-I never could ex- To be so wretched-You have been industrious Pyl. You hazard your retreat by these delays. The guards will soon beset us. Your complaints Are vain, and may be fatal. Orest. True, my friend: Pyl. Alas! I fear His ravings will return with his misfortunes. Orest. I am dizzy!—Clouds !—Quite lost in utter darkness. Guide me, some friendly pilot, through the storm. What envious hand has closed thy wounds?- It is Hermione that strikes -Confusion! She catches Pyrrhus in her arms.-Oh, save me! How terrible she looks! She knits her brow! She frowns me dead! She frights me into madness! Where am I?-Who are you? Pyl. Alas, poor prince! Help to support him.-How he pants for breath! I blaze again! See there! Look where they come; A shoal of furies-How they swarm about me! My terror! Hide me! Oh, their snakey locks! Hark, how they hiss! See, see, their flaming brands! Now they let drive full at me! How they grin, And shake their iron whips! My ears! What yelling! And see, Hermione! She sets them on-Thrust not your scorpions thus into my bosom! Oh! I am stung to death! Dispatch me soon! There-take my heart, Hermione! Tear it out! Disjoint me! kill me!-Oh, my tortured soul! Pyl. Kind Heaven restore him to his wonted calm! Oft have I seen him rave, but never thus: Quite spent! Assist me, friends, to bear him off; Our time is short: should his strong rage return, 'Twould be beyond our power to force him hence. Away, my friends! I hear the portal open. [Exeunt. Enter PHENIX, attended by Guards. Phan. All, all are fled! Orestes is not here! Triumphant villains!-The base, giddy rabble, Whose hands should all have been employed with fire, To waste the fleet, flocked round the dying prin cess; And, while they stand agaze, the Greeks embark. Enter ANDROMACHE and CEPHISA. Andr. Yes, ye inhuman Greeks! the time will Cut off in the fresh ripening prime of manhood, Even in the pride of life; thy triumphs new, And all thy glories in full blossom round thee! The very Trojans would bewail thy fate. Ceph. Alas, then, will your sorrows never end! Andr. Oh, never, never!--While I live, my tears Will never cease; for I was born to grieve.Give present orders for the funeral pomp: [To PHENIX. Let him be robed in all his regal state; Place round him every shining mark of honour: And let the pile, that consecrates his ashes, Rise like his fame, and blaze above the clouds. [A flourish of trumpets. Ceph That sound proclaims the arrival of the prince; The guards conduct him from the citadel. A springing joy, mixt with a soft concern, Plays round my heart, and brightens up my sorrow, Like gleams of sunshine in a lowering sky. By unforeseen expedients bring relief. [Exeunt omnes. EPILOGUE. SPOKEN BY ANDROMACHE. I hope you'll own, that, with becoming art, I've play'd my game, and topp'd the widow's part. My spouse, poor man, could not live out the play, But died commodiously on his wedding-day; You, ladies, who protract a lover's pain, Might she so soon upon her jointure enter? 'Twas a strange 'scape! Had Pyrrhus liv'd till now, I had been finely hamper'd in my vow. I might have took one night-to think upon it. Homer will tell you, (or I'm misinform'd,) At length, howe'er, I laid my weeds aside, THE SIEGE OF DAMASCUS. BY HUGHES PROLOGUE. OFT has the Muse here tried her magic arts, No common woes to-night we set to view; And swiftly o'er the neighbouring country ran: By faction weaken'd, and disunion broke, Britons, be warn'd; let e'en your pleasures here MEN. CHRISTIANS. EUMENES, governor of Damascus. DRAMATIS PERSONE. HERBIS, his friend, one of the chiefs of the city. PHOCYAS, a noble and valiant Syrian, privately in love with Eudocia. ARTAMON, an officer of the guards. MEN. SARACENS. CALED, general of the Saracen army. ABUDAH, next in command under Caled. DARAN, a wild Arabian, professing Mahometar ism for the sake of the spoil. SERGIUS, an Express from the emperor Hera- RAPHAN, &c. } clius. WOMEN. EUDOCIA, daughter to Eumenes. Officers, soldiers, citizens and attendants. Saracen captains. Officers, soldiers and attendants. SCENE, The City of Damascus, in Syria, and the Saracen Camp before it. And, in the les? Act, a Valley adjacent. SCENE 1.-The City. ACT I. What will you next? Eum. I have sent a fresh recruit; Enter EUMENES, PHOCYAS, ARTAMON, &c. Eum. Brave Phocyas, thanks! Mine and the people's thanks. [People shout and cry, A Phocyas, &c. Yet, that we may not lose this breathing space, Hang out the flag of truce. You, Artainon, Haste with a trumpet to the Arabian chiefs, And let them know, that, hostages exchanged, I'd meet them now upon the eastern plain. [Exit ARTAMON. Pho. What means Eumenes? Pho. On terms of peace! What terms can you expect from bands of rob bers? What terms from slaves, but slavery? You know These wretches fight not at the call of honour; serts, The valiant Phocyas leads them on-whose deeds Long have they viewed from far, with wishing In early youth assert his noble race; A more than common ardour seems to warm And though I braved it to the trembling crowd, [Exeunt. [A noise is heard without, of officers giving orders. 1st Offi. Help there! more help! all to the eastern gate! 2d Offi. Look where they cling aloft, like clustered bees! Here, archers, ply your bows. ast Offi. Down with the ladders! What, will you let them mount? eyes, Our fruitful vales, our fig-trees, olives, vines, For barren sands, and native poverty, Eum. What can we do? Our people in despair, our soldiers harassed quest. Herb. Besides, you know what frenzy fires their minds 2d Offi. Aloft there! give the signal, you that of their new faith, and drives them on to dan wait Stand ever open, to receive the souls Of all that die in fighting for their cause. Pho. Then would I send their souls to Para dise, And give their bodies to our Syrian eagles. Herb. So the tide turns; Phocyas has driven To leave us desperate. Aids may soon arrive; it back. The gate once more is ours, Mean time, in spite of their late bold attack, The city still is ours; their force repelica, And therefore weaker; proud of this success, Eum. No-let us first Believe the occasion fair, by this advantage, And in our absence form what force thou canst; SCENE II.-A Plain before the City. A Prospect of Tents at a distance. Enter CALED, ABUDAH, and Daran. That only come to traffic with those Syrians, This earth, it seems, has gifts that please him more. Cal. Check not his zeal, Abudah. Yet, I could wish that zeal had better motives. For conquest, not destruction. That obtained, The more we spare, the caliph has more subjects, And Heaven is better served-But see, they come. Enter EUMENES, HERBIS, and ARTAMON. Cal. Well, christians, we are met, and war awhile, At your request, has stilled his angry voice, Eum. We come to know, After so many troops you've lost in vain, Why on your heads you call our pointed arrows, And why see we so many thousand tents mons, When first we marched against you, to sur render. Two moons have wasted since, and now the third You see we are returned; our hearts, our cause, Herb. But why those swords were drawn, And what's the cause, inform us. Eum. Speak your wrongs, If wrongs you have received, and by what means They may be now repaired. Abu. Then, christians, hear! And Heaven inspire you to embrace its truth! Immutable. By us great Mahomet, Art. [Aside.] So-then, it seems Eum. Now, in the name of Heaven, what faith is this, That stalks gigantic forth thus armed with ter rors, As if it meant to ruin, not to save? Herb. Bold, frontless men! that impudently To blend religion with the worst of crimes; To cover fraud, and justify oppression ! Eum, Where are your priests? What doctors of your law Have you e'er sent to instruct us in its precepts ? To solve our doubts, and satisfy our reason, And well might claim our thanks. vices, |