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Orest. You may depart,

My friends-Hermione and I remain

Her cruelty has quite undone me !———“ Go
“And leave me to myself—I'll find her out.”

Pyl. Alas, unhappy princess! she's no more;
"Forget her, sir, and save yourself with us."
Orest. Hermione no more!—Oh, all ye powers!
Pyl. Full of disorder, wildness in her looks,
With hands expanded, and dishevell'd hair,
Breathless and pale, with shrieks she sought the temple;
In the mid-way she met the corpse of Pyrrhus;
She startled at the sight; then, stiff with horror,
Gaz'd frightful: waken'd from the dire amaze,
She rais'd her eyes to heav'n with such a look
As spoke her sorrows, and reproach'd the gods:
Then plung'd a poinard deep within her breast,
And fell on Pyrrhus, grasping him in death.

Orest. I thank you, gods—I never could expect
To be so wretched-You have been industrious
To finish your decrees; to make Orestes

A dreadful instance of your power to punish.
I'm singled out to bear the wrath of heav'n.

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:

And therefore 'twas I`thank'd the bounteous gods.

My fate's accomplish'd-I shall die content.

Oh, bear me hence-blow, winds!

Pyl. Let us be gone.

Orest. The murder'd lovers wait me-Hark, they


Nay, if your blood still reeks, I'll mingle mine :
One tomb will hold us all.

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. I shiver! Oh, I freeze!- -So;- -Light returns; 'Tis the grey dawn I-See, Pylades!

I am encompass'd with a sea of blood!·


The crimson billows!-Oh! my brain's on fire!
Pyl. How is it, sir ?-Repose yourself on me.
Orest. Pyrrhus, stand off!-What would'st thou?-
How he glares!

What envious hand has clos'd thy wounds?-Have at thee.

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!"
Orest. This is most kind, my Pylades-Oh, why,
Why was I born to give thee endless trouble?
Pyl. All will go well; he settles into reason.
Orest. Who talks of reason? Better to have none
Than not enough.-Run, some one, tell my Greeks,

I will not have them touch the king.-Now-now
I blaze again!-See there!-Look where they come;
A shoal of furies-How they swarm about me !—
My terror !-Hide me !—Oh, their snaky 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 tortur'd soul !–

Pyl. Kind Heav'n 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.

Enter PHOENIX, attended by Guards.


Phan. All, all are fled!Orestes is not hereTriumphant villains!The base, giddy rabble, Whose hands should all have been employ'd with fire, To waste the fleet, flock'd round the dying princess; And, while they stand agaze, the Greeks embark. Oh, 'tis too plain!-this sacrilegious murder Was authoriz'd. -Th' ambassador's escape Declares his guilt.-Most bloody embassy! Most unexampled deed!-Where, where, ye gods,

Is majesty secure, if in your temples

You give it no protection!-See, the queen.

[A Flourish of Trumpets.


Andr. Yes, ye inhuman Greeks! the time will come When you shall dearly pay your bloody deeds! How should the Trojans hope for mercy from you, When thus you turn your impious rage on Pyrrhus; Pyrrhus, the bravest man in all your league; The man whose single valour made you triumph. [A dead March behind.

Is my child there?

Ceph. It is the corpse of Pyrrhus.

The weeping soldiers bear him on their shields.
Andr. Ill-fated prince! too negligent of life:
And too unwary of the faithless Greeks!
Cut off in the fresh rip'ning 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 fun'ral pomp: [To Phœn.
Let him be rob'd in all his regal state;

Place round him ev'ry 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 th' arrival of the prince, The guards conduct him from the citadel.

Andr. With open arms I'll meet him!-Oh, Cephisa!

A springing joy, mixt with a soft concern,
A pleasure which no language can express,
An extacy that mothers only feel,

Plays round my heart, and brightens up my sorrow,
Like gleams of sunshine in a low'ring sky.
Though plung'd in ills, and exercis'd in care,
Yet never let the noble mind despair:
When prest by dangers and beset with foes,
The gods their timely succour interpose ;
And when our virtue sinks, o'erwhelm'd with grief,
By unforeseen expedients brings relief.

[Exeunt omnes.

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