IRENE; A TRAGEDY. A C T I. SCENE I. DEMETRIUS and LEONTIUS, in Turkish Habits. LEONTIUS. AND is it thus Demetrius meets his friend, And vent our suff'rings in clandestine groans? DEMETRIUS. Till breathless fury rested from destruction, These groans were fatal, these disguises vain; But now our Turkish conquerors have quench'd Their rage, and pall'd their appetite of murder; No more the glutted sabre thirsts for blood, And weary cruelty remits her tortures. LEONTIUS. Yet Greece enjoys no gleam of transient hope, The last corruption of degenerate man! DEMETRIUS. That wealth, too sacred for their country's use! LEONTIUS. Reproach not misery.-The sons of Greece, Why should they fear?-That pow'r that kindly spreads The clouds, a signal of impending show'rs DEMETRIUS. A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it. When some neglected fabrick nods beneath LEONTIUS. Well might the weakness of our empire sink Before such foes, of more than human force; Some Pow'r invisible, from Heav'n or Hell, Conducts their armies, and asserts their cause. DEMETRIUS. And yet, my friend, what miracles were wrought Did roaring whirlwinds sweep us from the ramparts? 'Twas vice that shook our nerves, 'twas vice, Le ontius, That froze our veins, and wither'd all our pow'rs. LEONTIUS. Whate'er our crimes, our woes demand compassion. With silent pangs I view the tow'ring domes, DEMETRIUS. -How chang'd, alas!-Now ghastly Desolation LEONTIUS. From ev'ry palace bursts a mingled clamour, Arose to heav'n, and pierc'd my bleeding breast, DEMETRIUS. Aspasia! spare that lov'd, that mournful name: Dear hapless maid-tempestuous grief o'erbears My reasoning pow'rs-Dear, hapless, lost Aspasia! LEONTIUS. Suspend the thought. DEMETRIUS. All thought on her is madness; Yet let me think-I see the helpless maid, Behold the monsters gaze with savage rapture, Behold how lust and rapine struggle round her! LEONTIUS. Awake, Demetrius, from this dismal dream, Call to your aid your courage and your wisdom; Think on the mighty power of awful virtue; Think on that Providence that guards the good. DEMETRIUS. O Providence! extend thy care to me, LEONTIUS. Some virgin martyr, Perhaps, enamour'd of resembling virtue, With gentle hand restrain'd the streams of life, And snatch'd her timely from her country's fate. DEMETRIUS. From those bright regions of eternal day, LEONTIUS. Enough of unavailing tears, Demetrius: I came obedient to thy friendly summons, DEMETRIUS. To what I know not: But hope, yet hope, to happiness and honour; If happiness can be without Aspasia, He, tir'd of slavery, though the highest slave, LEONTIUS. Can he restore the state he could not save? |