Olympia ’midst the priestesses remains.
The gates will open at the proper time
Within this porch, to which access is free;
My coming wait, and all complaint suspend.
New mysteries may strike you with surprise;
You quickly may determine whether kings
Can to Olympia now have any claim.
[He enters the temple again, and Sosthenes goes out.]
SCENE III.
antigones and hermas in the porch.
hermas.
My lord, you move my wonder, whilst alarms
Disturb all Asia, and a hundred kings
For power supreme in fields of blood contend;
When fortune Alexander’s wide domains
Prepares amongst the valiant to divide.
Whilst greatly you to sovereign sway lay claim,
Can a slave be the object of your wish?
antigones.
Your wonder’s just; but reasons, which to none
I dare disclose, to this pursuit excite.
Perhaps this slave may of importance prove
To Asia’s kings; to all men who aspire;
To him who in his bosom bears a heart
Which nobly aims at Alexander’s throne.
Strangest conjectures long my soul has framed
Upon the slave’s adventures, and her name.
I sought for information; oft my eyes
Have gazed upon her from these ramparts’ height.
The time and place to which she owes her birth,
The great respect which even a master shows her,
Cassander’s sorrow and obscure discourse,
With fresh suspicions have my soul inspired;
The mystery dark, I think, I can see through.
hermas.
He loves her, I am told; and, with the care
Of a kind father, educates her youth.
antigones.
We’ll know the truth, but see, the temple opens
And shows the sacred altar decked with flowers.
The priestesses are ranged on either side;
The high priest sits within the sacred shrine,
Cassander and Olympia now advance.
SCENE IV.
The three doors of the temple are opened. The inside of the temple is discovered. The priests advance slowly on one side, and the priestesses on the other. They are all clothed in white raiment, with blue girdles, the ends of which touch the ground. Cassander and Olympia lay their hands on the altar. Antigones and Hermas stand in the porch.
cassander.
Oh God of kings and gods, eternal mind
Who in these sacred mysteries stand revealed;
Who dost the wicked punish, and the just
Support, with whom remorse atones for crimes:
Great God confirm the vows which here I make.
Olympia, heavenly fair! those vows receive;
To you my throne, my life I dedicate.
A love as pure, as holy as the fire
Of Vesta, which ne’er dies, I promise here,
To heaven devoted, priestesses august,
Receive the vows and promises I make;
Bear them in clouds of incense to the throne
Of listening gods, and may they still avert
The punishment that’s due to crimes like mine.
olympia.
Protect, O gods! in whom I put my trust,
The master who supplied a father’s care;
Let my kind lover and my husband still
Be dear to you, and worthy of your care.
My heart is to you known, his rank, his crown
Are the least gifts which on me he bestows:
’Tis yours to answer for my ardent flame,
Who here bear witness to its purity.
May I from him to please you learn, and may
Your justice doom me to the infernal shades,
If faithless to your laws I e’er forget
My former state, and what I owe to him.
cassander.
Let’s to the shrine return, where bliss invites.
The solemn pomp you priestesses prepare,
The pomp from which my happiness I date;
Sanctify both my passion and my life,
I’ve at the temple seen the gods, in her
I see them; may they hate me if I am false.
Antigones, you hear what I have said,
Sufficient answer have I now returned?
Acknowledge now that you should cease to claim
Cassander’s slave; know even my throne itself,
And all my grandeur, are below her worth.
Whatever friendship may unite our hearts,
You cannot such a sacrifice expect.
[They enter the temple again, and the doors are shut.]
SCENE V.
antigones, hermas.
antigones.
I doubt no more, I have discovered all.
He braved me, but his ruin is at hand.
He’s ardent and impetuous, and prone
Sometimes to serve the gods, sometimes offend;
The world has many characters like his,
Made up of passion and religious zeal.
With headlong passion, tenderness they mix,
They oft repent, and all things undertake.
He says he weds a slave, ah, never think
That love could make him so debase himself.
That slave is of a race himself respects,
His secret machinations I surmise.
He thinks in virtue of Olympia’s rights
He one day may become supreme of kings.
Had love alone been master of his breast,
He had not from me