A CHILLES. The lines diftinguished by inverted tomas, thus,' are omitted in the Reprefentation, and those printed in Italics are the additions of the Theatre. B ACT I. SCENE, the Palace. Enter Thetis and Achilles. 'THETIS. EFORE I leave you, child, I must infift upon your promife, that you will never discover yourself without my leave. Don't look upon it as capricious fondness, nor think (becaufe 'tis a mother's advice) that, in duty to yourself, you are obliged not to follow it. Would you Ach. But my character, my honourhave your fon live with infamy ?- On the first step of a young fellow, depends his character for life. I ⚫ beg you, goddess, to dispense with your commands. Thet. Have you, then, no regard to my prefenti⚫ment? I can't bear the thoughts of your going; for I know that odious fiege of Troy would be the death • of thee. ab Ach. Because you have the natural fears of a mother, ' would you have me infenfible that I have the heart of 6 a man? The world, Madam, muft look upon my fconding in this manner, and at this particular juncture, as infamous cowardice. AIR I. A clown in Flanders once there was. Is this your fondnefs, this your care? A 3 Thet. Thet. Keep your temper, Achilles, 'Tis both impious and undutiful to call my prefcience in question. Ach. Pardon me, goddess; for had you, like other mothers, been a mere woman only, I fhould have taken the liberty of other fons, and should (as 'tis my duty) have heard your advice, and followed my own. Thet. I pofitively fhall not be eafy, child, unless you give me your word and honour- -You know my 'commands. Ach. My word, Madam, I can give you; but my honour is already facrificed to my duty. That I gave you, when I fubmitted to put on this woman's habit. Thet. Believe me, Achilles, I have a tender regard for your honour, as well as life. By preventing your running headlong to your deftiny, I preferve you for future glory. Therefore, child, I once more insist upon your folemn promife. Ach. Was I a woman, (as I appear to be) I could, without difficulty, give you a promife, to have the pleafure of breaking it; but when I promife, my life is ⚫ pledged for the performance. Your commands, Madam, are facred. Yet I intreat you, goddess, to con"fider the ignominious part you make me act. In obeying you, I prove myfelf unworthy of you. 6 Thet. My will, Achilles, is not to be controverted. Your life depends upon your duty; and, pofitively, child, you shall not go to this fiege. AIR II. Gudgeon's Song. Why am I thus held at defiance? • Will men never practife compliance, Till marriage hath taught them the way? Ach. But why must I lead the life of a woman? • Why was I ftolen away from my preceptor? Was I not as fafe under the care of Chiron? I know the love he had for me; I feel his concern; and I dare fwear that good creature is now fo diftreffed for the lofs of me, that he will quite founder himself with galloping from ⚫ place to place to look after me. 3 • Thet. Thet. I'll hear no more. Obey, and feek to know no further. Can you imagine that I would have taken all this trouble to have lodged you under the protection of Lycomedes, if I had not feen the abfolute neceffity • of it? Ach. Were I allowed to follow my inclinations, 'what would you have to fear? I fhould do my duty, and die with honour. Was I to live an age, I could do no more. Thet. You are fo very obftinate, that, really, child, 'there's no enduring you. Your impatience feems to forget that I am a goddefs. Have I not degraded myfelf into the character of a distreffed Grecian princess? ''Tis owing to my artifice and infinuation that we have 'the protection of the king of Scyros. Have I not won 'Lycomedes's friendship and hofpitality to that degree, as to place you, without the least fufpicion, among his ' daughters? And for what, dear Achilles? Your fafety. and future fame required it. Ach. 'Tis impoffible, Madam, to bear it much longer! my words, my actions, my aukward behaviour, must one day inevitably difcover me I had been 'fafer under the tuition of Chiron. Thet. Hath not the prophet Calchas perfuaded the confederates, that the fuccefs of their expedition against Troy, depends upon your being among them? Haye they not emiffaries and fpies almost every where in fearch of you? 'Tis here, only, and in this difguife, that I can believe you out of the reach of fufpicion "You have fo much youth, and fuch a bloom, that there • is no man alive but must take you for a woman. What I am moft afraid of, is, that when you are among the la-. dies, you should be fo little mafter of your paffions, as to find yourself a man. AIR III. Did you ever hear of a gallant failor? Muft do what Nature bids her do : For we've unguarded minutes too. By creet. By nature greedy, Within your fold the wolf confine; • Not think of mutton; Can you perfuade him not to dine? Thet. Now, dear child, let me beg you to be difI have fome fea affairs that require my attendance, which (much against my will) oblige me, for a time, to leave you to your own conduct. Enter Artemona. Art. The princeffes, Lady Pyrrha, have been fitting at their embroidery above a quarter of an hour, and are perfectly miferable for want of you. Thet. Pyrrha is fo very unhandy, and fo monftrously aukward at her needle, that I know the must be diverting. • Her paffion for romances (as you must have observed in "other girls) took her off from every part of useful • education. Ach. For the many obligations I have to the prin• ceffes, I fhould, no doubt, upon all occafions, fhew myself ready to be the butt of their ridicule; 'tis a duty that all great people expect from what they call their dependants. Art. How can you, Lady Pyrrha, mifinterpret a civility? I know they have a friendship, an esteem for · you; and have a pleasure in inftructing you. Thet. For Heaven's fake, Pyrrha, let not your cap⚫tious temper run away with your good-manners. You cannot but be fenfible of the king's and their civilities,' • both to you and me. How can you be fo horridly out of humour? • Ach. All I mean, Madam, is, that when people are fenfible of their own defects, they are not the proper objects of ridicule. Thet. You are fo very touchy, Pyrrha, that there is no enduring you? How can you be fo unfociable a creature, as to deny a friend the liberty of laughing at your little follies and indifcretions? For what, do you think, women keep company with one another? Ach. Because they hate one another, defpife one another, another, and feek to have the pleasure of feeing and 'expofing one another's faults and follies. Thet. Now, dear Pyrrha, tell me, is work a thing you pique yourself upon? Suppofe too, they should fmile at an abfurdity in your drefs, it could not be fuch a mortification, as if, like moft women, you had made it the chief bufinefs of your life. • Art. Don't they treat one another with equal familiarity? • Ach. But a reply from me (whatever was the provo⚫cation) might be looked upon as impertinent. I hate to be under the restraint of civility when I am ill used. • Art. Will you allow me, Madam, to make your excufes to the princeffes?-The occafion of your high• nefs's leaving her, I fee, troubles her-Perhaps I may interrupt conversation. Thet. 'Tis aftonifhing, child, how you can have fo little complaifance. This fullen behaviour of yours • must be disagreeable. I hope, Madam, she is not always in this way? Art. Never was any creature more entertaining! Such fpirits, and fo much vivacity! The princeffes are really • fond of her to distraction. The most chearful tempers are liable to the spleen; and 'tis an indulgence that one woman owes to another. 6 Ach. The fpleen, Madam, is a female frailty that I have no pretenfions to, nor any of its affections. • AIR IV. Si vous vous moquez de nous. When a woman fullen fits, • And wants breath to conquer reason, Are in feafon. • Since 'tis in her difpofition, • Make her be her own physician. Nay, dear Madam, you fhall not go without me Though I have my particular reafons to be out of humour, I cannot be deficient in good-manners. Art. I know they would take it mortally ill, if they thought your complaifance had put yourself under the teaft reftraint. • Ach |