Ippolito (to GIULIO). Take you the sentence, and God be

[Goes.

Unseal and read it.

Giulio (reading). Of sight! of sight! of sight!
Ferrante.

Would you escape,

brow

My gentle Giulio? Run not thus around
The wide light chamber, press not thus your
Against the walls, with your two palms above.
Seek you the door then? you are uncondemned
To lose the sight of one who is the bloom
And breath of life to you: the bolts are drawn
On me alone. You carry in your breast
Most carefully our brother's precious gift:
Well, take it anywhere, but do not hope
Too much from any one. Time softens rocks,
And hardens men.

Giulio.

Pray then our God for help.
Ferrante. O my true brother, Giulio! why thus hang
Around my neck and pour forth prayers for me?
Where there are priests and kinsmen such as ours,
God hears not, nor is heard. I am prepared

For death.
Giulio.

Ah! worse than death may come upon you, Unless Heaven interpose.

Ferrante.

I know the worst,
And bear one comfort in my breast that fire
And steel can ne'er force from it: she I love
Will not be his, but die as she hath lived.

Doubt you? that thus you shake the head and sigh.
Giulio. Far other doubt was mine: even

cease.

Ferrante. Speak it.

Giulio.

Ferrante.

I must: God pardon me!

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this shall

၄၀

Speak on.

Giulio. Have we not dwelt in friendship from our birth,

Told the same courtier the same tale of joy,

And pointed where life's earliest thorn had pierced

Amid the sports of boyhood, ere the heart

Hath aught of bitter or unsound within ?
Ferrante. We have indeed.

Giulio.

Has my advice been ill? 100

Ferrante. Too often ill-observed, but always good.

Giulio. Brother, my words are not what better men
Would speak to you; and yet my love, I think,
Must be more warm than theirs can ever be.

Ferrante. Brother's, friend's, father's, when was it like yours?

Giulio. Which of them ever said what I shall say? Ferrante. Speak; my desires are kindled, my fears quencht.

Giulio. Do not delay to die, lest crueller

Than common death befal you.

Ferrante.

Is ordered in that schedule!

Then the wheel

Must she too

Have her chaste limbs laid bare? Here lies the rack;
Here she would suffer ere it touch the skin.

No, I will break it with the thread of life

Ere the sound reach her. Talk no more of Heaven,

Of Providence, of Justice. Look on her.

Why should she suffer? what hath she from Heaven
Of comfort or protection?

Giulio.

Talk not so.

Pity comes down when Hope hath flown away.

Ferrante. Illusion!

Giulio.

If it were, which it is not,

Why break with vehement words such sweet illusion?
For were there not above but empty air,

Nought but the clear blue sky where birds delight,
Soaring o'er myriad worlds of living dust
That roll in columns round the noontide ray,
Your heart would faint amid such solitude,
Would shrink in such vacuity; that heart
(Ferrante! can you hide its wants from me?)
Rises and looks around and calls aloud
For some kind Being, some consoling bosom,

Whereon to place its sorrows, and to rest.

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Ferrante. Oh! that was here . . I cannot look beyond.

Giulio. Hark! hear you not the people? to the window ! They shout and clap their hands when they first meet you After short absence; what shall they now do?

Up! seize the moment; show yourself.

Ferrante.
Stay, Giulio!
Draw me not thither; speak not of my wrongs;
I would await but not arouse their vengeance,
And would deserve but court not their applause.
Little of good shall good men hope from them,
Nothing shall wiser.

O were he away!

But if I fail, he must die too, being here.

Giulio. Let me call out: they are below the grate : They would deliver you: try this one chance.

140

[Aside.

Obdurate! would you hold me down? They're gone! Ferrante. Giulio! for shame! weep not, or here I

stay

And let vile hands deform me.

Giulio.

They shall never.

150

Ferrante. What smoke arises? Are there torches under? Surely the crowd has past: 'tis from the stairs.

Giulio. Anticipate the blow.

Ferrante.

One more must grieve!

And will she grieve like you, too tender Giulio!
Turn not away the head, the hand. What hold
you?
Give, give it me. 'Tis keen.
They call you forth.
Tell her.. no, say not we shall meet again,
For tears flow always faster at those words
May the thought come, but gently, like a dream.

160

THE SHADES OF AGAMEMNON AND

IPHIGENEIA.

Iphigencia. Father! I now may lean upon your breast, you with unreverted eyes will grasp

And

Iphigeneia's hand.

Surely! for yours throb yet.

We are not shades

Win Troy for Greece?

Ah! 'twas ill done, to shrink;

But the sword gleam'd so sharp; and the good priest
Trembled, and Pallas frown'd above, severe.

Agamemnon. Daughter!

Beloved father! is the blade

Iphigeneia

ved father

Again to pierce my bosom ? 'tis unfit

For sacrifice; no blood is in its veins,

No God requires it here; here are no wrongs
To vindicate, no realms to overthrow.

You standing as at Aulis in the fane,

With face averted, holding (as before)

My hand; but yours burns not, as then it burn'd;
This alone shews me we are with the Blest,
Nor subject to the sufferings we have borne.
I will win back past kindness.

Tell me then,
Tell how my mother fares who loved me so,
And griev'd, as 'twere for you, to see me part.

[1 I. reads:

"Is the blade Again to pierce a bosom now unfit For sacrifice?"]

Frown not, but pardon me for tarrying

Amid too idle words, nor asking how

She prais❜d us both (which most?) for what we did.
Agamemnon. Ye Gods who govern here! do human pangs
Reach the pure soul thus far below? do tears
Spring in these meadows?

Iphigeneia.

No, sweet father, no

I could have answered that; why ask the Gods?
Agamemnon. Iphigeneia! O my child! the Earth

Has gendered crimes unheard of heretofore,

And Nature may have changed in her last depths,
Together with the Gods and all their laws.

Iphigeneia. Father! we must not let you here condemn; Not, were the day less joyful: recollect

We have no wicked here; no king to judge.
Poseidon, we have heard, with bitter rage.
Lashes his foaming steeds against the skies,
And, laughing with loud yell at winged fire,
Innoxious to his fields and palaces
Affrights the eagle from the sceptred hand;
While Pluto, gentlest brother of the three
And happiest in obedience, views sedate
His tranquil realm, nor envies theirs above.
No change have we, not even day for night
Nor spring for summer.

All things are serene,
Serene too be your spirit! None on earth
Ever was half so kindly in his house,
And so compliant, even to a child.

Neyer was snatch'd your robe away from me,
Though going to the council. The blind man
Knew his good king was leading him indoors,
Before he heard the voice that marshal'd Greece.
Therefore all prais'd you.

Proudest men themselves
In others praise humility, and most
Admire it in the sceptre and the sword.
What then can make you speak thus rapidly
And briefly in your step thus hesitate?

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