She is fo good, fo worthy to be fought for,
The facred Cause wou'd make my Sword fuccefsful,
And gain my Youth a mighty Name in Arms.

Uly. Then prove the Peril, and enjoy the Fame.
E're the Mid-hour of ro ling Night approach,
Remember well to plant thee at that Door,
Thou know'st it opens to the Queen's Apartment.
To bind thee yet more firm; for oh my Son,

[Drawing his Sword.

With powerful Oppofition fhalt thou strive,
Swear on my Sword, by thy own filial Piety,
By all our Race, by Pallas and by Jove,
If any of these curfed Foreign. Tyrants,
Thofe Rivals of thy Father's Love and Honour,
Shall dare to pass thro' that forbidden Entrance,
To take his Forfeit Life for the Intrusion.

Tel. I fwear

Fame

And may my Lot in futura

[Telemachus kneels and kisses the Sword...

Be good or Evil but as I perform it, ́.

Ulyff. Enough I do believe thee.
Men. Hark! my Lord!

[A confufed Noife is heard within
How loud the Tempest roars! The bellowing Voice
Of wild enthufiaftick raging. Mirth,
With Peals of Clamour shakes the vaulted Roof.

Tel. Such furely is the Sound of mighty Armies
In Battel join'd, of Cities fack'd at Midnight,
Of many Waters, and united Thunders;
My gen'rous Soul takes fire, and half repines,
To think fhe muft not fhare the glorious Danger,
Where Numbers wait you, worthy of your Swords.

Ulyff. No more, thou haft thy Charge, look well to that; For thefe, these riotous Sons of Noife and Uproar, I know their Force, and know I am Ulyffes. So Jove look'd down upon the War of Atoms, And rude tumultuous Chaos, when as yet Fair Nature, Form, and Order had not Being, But Discord and Confusion troubled all; Calm and ferene upon his Throne he fate, Fix'd there by the eternal Law of Fate, Safe in himself, because he knew his Pow'r;

And knowing what he was, he knew he was fecure.

[Exeunt

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Enter Telemachus and Antinous.

Ant. THE King return'd? So long conceal'd in Ithaca? Ethon the King? What Words can speak my

Wonder?

Tel. Yes, my Antinous, 'tis most amazing, 'Tis all the mighty working of the Gods, Unfearchable and dark to human Eyes:

But oh, let me conjure thee by our Friendship,.
Since to thy faithful Breaft alone I've tufted
The fatal Secret, to preserve it fafe,

As thou wou'dft do the Life of thy Telemachus.

Ant. Wrong not the Truth of your devoted Slave, To think he wou'd betray you for whole Worlds. Have you not faid it, that your own dear Life,

And

And all your Royal Race, depends upon

it?

Far from my Lips, within my Breaft I'll keep it;
Nor breath it foftly to my self alone,

Left fome officious murmuring Wind fhould tell it,
And babbling Eccho's catch the feeble Sound.

Tel. No, thou art true, fuch have I ever found thee;
But hafte, my Friend, and fummon to thy Aid
What Force the fhortness of the Time allows thee;
Then with thy fwifteft Diligence return,
Since, as I urg'd to thee before, it may
Import the Safety of my Royal Parents.
Some black Defign is by these Stranger-Princes
Contriv'd against the Honour of the Queen.

Ant. E're Night a bufie Rumour ran around
Carmed Parties fecretly difpos'd

Between the Palace-Gardens and the Sea;
Bold Cleon ftrait and Areas I dispatch'd

To fearch the Truth; that known, with haste to raife
And arm our Citizens for your Defence:

E're this they have obey'd me; when I've join'd
The Pow'r their Diligence has drawn together,

I'll wait you here again upon the Inftant.

[Exit Antinous.

Tel. Oh Love, how are thy precious, fweetest Minutes
Thus ever croft, thus vext with Disappointments!
Now Pride, now Fickleness, fantastick Quarrels
And fullen Coldness give us Pain by turns;

Malicious medling Chance is ever busse
To bring us Fears, Difquiet, and Delays;
And ev'n at laft, when after all our waiting,
Eager, we think to fnatch the dear-bought Blife,
Ambition calls us to its fullen Cares,

And Honour ftern, impatient of Neglect,

Com

Commands us to forget our Eafe and Pleasures;
As if we had been made for nought but Toil,
And Love were not the Bus'nefs of our Lives,
Enter Eurymachus.

Eur. The Prince yet here! Twice have I fought fince
Night,

To pass in private to the Queen's Apartment,

But found him ftill attending at the Door;

What can it mean?

Tel. It is Semanthe's Father!

Ha!

Sure the Gods, in pity of our Loves,

Have deftin'd him to 'fcape Ulyffes' Vengeance.

Eur. How comes it, gentle Youth, when Wine and
Mirth

Chear ev'ry Heart to Night, and banish Care,
I find thee penfively alone, avoiding

The Pleasures and Companions of thy Youth,
And like the fighing Slave of Sorrow, wasting
The tedious Time in melancholy Thought?

Tel. Behold the Ruins of my Royal House,
My Father's Abfence, and my Mother's Grief,
Then tell me if I have not Cause too great
To mourn, to pine away my Youth in Sadness.

Eur. Our Daughter once was wont to fhare your,

Thoughts;

Believe me, fhe has Reafon to complain,

If you prefer your Solitude to her;

While here you stay, disconsolate and mufing,

Lonely fhe fits, the tender-hearted Maid,

And kindly thinks of you, and mourns your Abfence.
Tel. The conftant, faithful Service of my Life,

My Days and Nights devoted all to her,

Poorly repay the fair Semanthe's Goodness:

Yet

Yet they are hers, ev'n all my Years are hers,`
My present Youth, my future Age is hers,

All but this Night, which here I've sworn to pass,
Revolving many a fad and heavy Thought,

And ruminating on my wretched Fortunes,

Well, Sir, purfue your Thoughts; I have fome Matters of great and high Import, which on the Inftant

I muft deliver to the Queen, your Mother.

Tel. Whate'er it be, you must of Force delay it

'Till Morning.

Eur. How, delay it!

But wherefore?

'tis impoffible.

Say.

Tel. The Queen is gone to Reft,

Oppreft and wafted with the Toil of Sorrows,

Weary as miferable painful Hinds,

That labour all the Day to get 'em Food,
She feeks fome Eafe, fome Interval of Cares,
From the kind God of Sleep, and fweet Repose..
E're the retir'd she left most strict Command,.

None fhou'd approach her 'till the Morning's Dawn.
Eur. Whate'er thofe Orders were, I have my Reafons
To think my felf excepted:-
And whoe'er
Brought you the Meffage, through officious Haste
Miftook the Queen, and has inform'd you wrong.
Tel. Not fo, my Lord; for as I honour Truth,
Ev'n from her felf did I receive the Charge.

Eur. Vexation and Delay!-Then 'tis thy own,
Thy Error, and thou heard'ft not what she said.
I tell thee, Prince, 'tis at her own Request,

Her