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       Table of Contents

      poliphontes, erox.

      poliphontes.

       I almost thought she had discovered something

       Touching her husband’s murder, for she frowned

       Indignant on me; but I want her hand,

       And not her heart; the crowd will have it so;

       We must not disoblige them; by this marriage

       I shall secure them both: I look on her

       But as a slave that’s useful to my purpose,

       Chained to my chariot wheels to grace my triumph,

       And little heed her hatred or her love.

       But thou hast talked to this young murderer,

       What thinkest thou of him?

      erox.

       He’s immovable,

       Simple in speech, but of undaunted courage,

       He braves his fate: I little thought to find

       In one of his low birth a soul so great;

       I own, my lord, I cannot but admire him.

      poliphontes.

       Who is he?

      erox.

       That I know not; but most certain

       He is not one of those whom we employed

       To watch for Narbas.

      poliphontes.

       Art thou sure of that?

       The leader of that band I have myself

       Despatched, and prudent buried in his blood

       The dangerous secret; but this young unknown

       Alarms me: is it certain he destroyed

       Ægisthus? has propitious fate, that still

       Prevented all my wishes, been thus kind?

      erox.

       Mérope’s tears, her sorrow, and despair,

       Are the best proofs; but all I see confirms

       Thy happiness, and fortune hath done more

       Than all our cares.

      poliphontes.

       Fortune doth often reach

       What wisdom cannot: but I know too well

       My danger, and the number of my foes,

       To leave that fortune to decide my fate:

       Whoe’er this stranger be, he must not live,

       His death shall purchase me this haughty queen,

       And make the crown sit firmer on my head.

       The people then, subjected to my power,

       Will think at last their prince is dead, and know

       That I avenged him: but, inform me, who

       Is this old man that shuns me thus? there seems

       Some mystery in his conduct; Mérope,

       Thou tellest me, would have slain the murderer,

       But that this old man did prevent her; what

       Could move him to it?

      erox.

       He’s the young man’s father,

       And came to implore his pardon.

      poliphontes.

       Ha! his pardon!

       I’ll see, and talk with him; but he avoids me,

       And therefore I suspect him; but I’ll know

       This secret: what could be the queen’s strange purpose,

       In thus deferring what so ardently

       She seemed to wish for? all her rage was changed

       To tenderest pity: through her griefs methought

       A ray of joy broke forth.

      erox.

       What is her joy,

       Her pity, or her vengeance, now to thee?

      poliphontes.

       It doth concern me nearly; I have cause

       For many fears; but she approaches:—bring

       That stranger to me.

      SCENE II.

       Table of Contents

      poliphontes, erox, ægisthus, euricles, mérope, ismenia, Guards.

      mérope.

       Fulfil your word, sir, and avenge me; give

       The victim to my hands, and mine alone.

      poliphontes.

       You see I mean to keep it: he’s before you:

       Revenge yourself, and shed the traitor’s blood;

       Then, madam, with your leave, we’ll to the altar.

      mérope.

       O gods!

      ægisthus.

       [To Poliphontes.

       Am I then to be made the purchase

       Of the queen’s favor? my poor life indeed

       Is but of little moment, and I die

       Contented; but I am a stranger here,

       A helpless, innocent, unhappy stranger;

       If heaven has made thee king, thou shouldst protect me:

       I’ve slain a man, ’twas in my own defence;

       The queen demands my life; she is a mother,

       Therefore I pity her, and bless the hand

       Raised to destroy me: I accuse none here

       But thee, thou tyrant.

      poliphontes.

       Hence, abandoned villain;

       Darest thou insult—

      mérope.

       O pardon his rash youth,

       Brought up in solitude, and far removed

       From courts, he knows not the respect that’s due

       To majesty.

      poliphontes.

       Amazing! justified

       By you!

      mérope.

       By me, my lord?

      poliphontes.

       Yes, madam, you.

       Is this the murderer of your son?

      mérope.

       My child,

       My son, the last of a long line of kings,

       Beneath a vile assassin’s hand—

      ismenia.

       O heaven!

       What wouldst thou do?

      poliphontes.

       Thine eyes are fixed upon him

       With tenderness and joy; thy tears too flow,

       Though thou wouldst hide them from me.

      mérope.

       No: ’tis false:

       I would not,