ROXANA. What new disaster comes to overwhelm me? I must resolve this fatal doubt, nor let - The precious moments pass. Love, when most cautious, I will watch Bajazet and Atalide : Then crown the lover, or destroy the traitor. THE APPEAL OF ANDROMACHE. (From "Andromaque.") Scene: The palace of Pyrrhus, at Buthrotum in Epirus. Present: ANDROMACHE, HERMIONE, CLEONE, CEPHISSA. ANDROMACHE [to HERMIONE]. Why fly you, madam? Is To please you, Hector's widow at your knees, Can they dread Him let me hide And they may trust My fears to keep him there, taught but to weep With me. HERMIONE. I feel for you, but duty holds ANDROMACHE. How scornfully did she refuse my prayer! CEPHISSA. Accept her counsel. See him, as she says; One look of yours may Greece and her confound But look, he seeks you of his own accord. Enter PYRRHUS and PHOENIX. PYRRHUS [to PHOENIX]. Where is the princess? Said you not that she Was here? PHOENIX. I thought so. ANDROMACHE [to CEPHISSA]. Now you see what power My eyes have over him! CEPHISSA. Speak! Why obstinately dumb? ANDROMACHE. Has he not promised them my child? ANDROMACHE. I should but irritate him more. Let us retire. PYRRHUS. Come, Hector's son shall be Yielded to Greece. ANDROMACHE [throwing herself at his feet] — Stop, Sire. What will you do? Give up the son? Why not the mother, then? Of pity? Does this sentence bar all hope Of pardon? PYRRHUS. Phoenix knows my word is pledged. But not ANDROMACHE. No dangers were too great for you to brave On my behalf! PYRRHUS. Blind then, I now can see. Your wishes might have won his pardon once; ANDROMACHE. Full well you understood, my lord, You hate me, scorn to owe me anything. Come, Phoenix. ANDROMACHE. I will go where Hector's gone. ANDROMACHE. What further can I say to him? The author of my woes, he knows them all. [To PYRRHUS] See to what state you have reduced me, sire! I've seen my father slain, our walls enwrapt In flames, and all our family cut off, My husband's bloody corpse dragged through the dust, His only son reserved for chains with me. For his sake I endure to live a slave. Yea, more, this thought has sometimes brought relief, - I thought his son more generous still. That trust, Ah, had he but allowed us to abide Where for thine ashes I had raised a tomb, PYRRHUS. Go and await me, Phoenix. Madam, stay. Your tears may yet win back this cherished son. I armed you with a weapon 'gainst myself; For crown I set a burning brand of shame; And in the fane decked for her marriage rites Her royal diadem yourself shall wear. This offer, lady, is no longer one You can afford to scorn. Perish or reign! A year's contempt has made me desperate, Nor can I any longer live in doubt, Harassed by fears and mingling threats with groans. I leave you to consider, and will come. Or where in love I crown you as my queen. THE CONFESSION OF PHÆDRA. (From "Phèdre.") Scene: The palace at Træzen, in the Peloponnesus. Present: PHÆDRA, HIPPOLYTUS, CENONE. PHEDRA [to CENONE]. There I see him! My blood forgets to flow, my tongue to speak What I am come to say. ENONE. Think of your son, I hear How all his hopes depend on you. PHÆDRA. Plead my alarm. No more has he a father, By me, his mother. HIPPOLYTUS. Madam, is mine. PHÆDRA. No such base resentment, I could not blame you, prince, Myself your foe, and found no peace till seas Your hatred, never woman merited More pity, less deserved your enmity. HIPPOLYTUS. A mother jealous of her children's rights Seldom forgives the offspring of a wife Who reigned before her. Harassing suspicions. Are common sequels of a second marriage. Of me would any other have been jealous No less than you, perhaps more violent. PHÆDRA. Ah, prince, how Heaven has from the general law Made me exempt, be that same Heaven witness! Far different is the trouble that devours me! HIPPOLYTUS. This is no time for self-reproaches, madam. It may be that your husband still beholds The light, and Heaven may grant him safe return, In answer to our prayers. His guardian god Is Neptune, ne'er by him invoked in vain. PHÆDRA. He who has seen the mansions of the dead Returns not thence. Since to those gloomy shores Theseus is gone, 't is vain to hope that Heaven May send him back. Prince, there is no release From Acheron's greedy maw. He lives and breathes in you. And yet, methinks, |