Peri. Three startling articles, and well con-
certed,

Following each other in an easy train,
With fair similitude of truth. But, sir,
How bore your father?

Per. O! he shook! he fell!

Nor was his fleeting soul recalled with ease.
Peri. What said he when recovered?
Per. His resolve

I know not yet; but see, his minion comes;
And comes, perhaps, to tell me.
But I'll go,
Sustain my part, and echo loud my wrongs;
Nought so like innocence as perfect guilt.
If he brings aught of moment, you'll inform me.
[As PERSEUS goes off, he is seized by officers.
Enter DYMAS.

Peri. How fares the king?

Dym. Even as an aged oak Pushed to and fro, the labour of the storm, Whose largest branches are struck off by thunder: Yet still he loves, and on the mountain groans; Strong in affliction, awful from his wounds, And more revered in ruin than in glory.

Peri. I hear prince Perseus has accused his brother.

Dym. True; and the king's commands are nów gone forth

To throw them both in chains; for farther thought

Makes Philip doubt the truth of Perseus' charge.
Peri. What then is his design?
Dym. They both this hour

Must plead their cause before him. Nay, already
His nobles, judges, counsellors, are met,
And public justice wears her sternest form:
A more momentous trial ne'er was known;
Whether the pleaders you survey as brothers,
Or princes known in arts, or famed for arms;
Whether you ponder, in their awful judge,
The tender parent, or the mighty king
Greece, Athens, hears the cause: the great result
Is life, or death; is infamy, or fame. [Trumpets.
Peri. What trumpets these?
Dym. They summon to the court.

[Exeunt The Scene draws, and discovers the Court, King, &c.

King. I have no sons; and that I ever had, Is now my heaviest curse: and yet what care, What pains I took to curb their rising rage! How often have I ranged through history, To find examples for their private use? The Theban brothers did I set before themWhat blood! what desolation! but in vain! For thee, Demetrius, did I go to Rome, And bring thee patterns thence of brothers' love, The Quintii, and the Scipios; but in vain : If I'm a monarch, where is your obedience? If I'm a father, where's your duty to me? If old, your veneration due to years? But I have wept, and you have sworn, in vain! I had your ear, and enmity your heart. How was this morning's counsel thrown away! How happy is your mother in the grave! She, when she bore you, suffered less: her pangs, Her pungent pangs, throb through the father's heart.

Dem. You can't condemn me, sir, to worse than this.

King. Than what, thou young deceiver? While

I live,

You both, with impious wishes, grasp my sceptre :
Nothing is sacred, nothing dear, but empire.
Brother, nor father, can you bear; fierce lust
Of empire burns, extinguished all beside.
Why pant you for it? to give others awe?
Be therefore awed yourselves, and tremble at it,
While in a father's hand.

Dym. My lord, your warmth
Defers the business.

?

King. Am I then too warm
They that should shelter me from every blast,
To be themselves the storm! O! how Romne
triumphs!

Oh! how they bring this hoary head to shame!
Conquest and fame, the labour of my life,
Now turn against me, and call in the world
To gaze at what was Philip, but who now
Wants even the wretch's privilege-a wish.
What can I wish? Demetrius may be guiltless;
What then is Perseus? Judgment hangs as yet
Doubtful o'er them; but I'm condemned already;
For both are mine; and one-is foul as hell.
Should these two hands wage war, (these hands
less dear!)

King. Bring forth the prisoners.
Strange trial this! Here sit I to debate,
Which vital limb to lop, nor that to save,
But render wretched life more wretched still.
What see I, but heaven's vengeance, in my sons?
Their guilt a scourge for mine? 'Tis thus Heaven
writes

Its awful meaning plain in human deeds,
And language leaves to man.

Enter PERSEUS and DEMETRIUS, in chains, from different sides of the stage; PERSEUS, followed by PERICLES, and DEMETRIUS by ANTI

GONUS.

Dym. Dread sir, your sons. VOL. 11.

You'll have no second hearing. Thou forbear. [To DEMETRIUS. Per. Speak!-'Twas with utmost struggle I

forbore:

These chains were scarce designed to reach my

Perseus, and he-I will not call him brother: [Pointing at Demetrius. He wants not that enhancement of his guilt. King. But closer to the point; and lay before

us

Your whole deportment this ill-fated day.

Per. Scarce was he cool from that embrace this morning,

Which you enjoined, and I sincerely gave;
Nor thought he planned my death within my

arms;

When holding vile, oaths, honour, duty, love,
He fired our friendly sports to martial rage.
If war, why not fair war! But that has danger.
From hostile conflict, as from brothers' play,
He blushed not to invite me to his banquet.
I went not; and in that was I to blame?
Think you, there nothing had been found but
peace,

From whence, soon after, sallied armed men?
Think you I nothing had to fear from swords,
When from their foils I scarce escaped with life?
Or poison might his valour suit as well:-
This passed, as suits his wisdom, Macedonians,
Who vaults o'er elder brothers to a throne.
With an armed rout he came to visit me.
Did I refuse to go, a bidden guest?
And should I welcome him, a threatening foe?
Resenting my refusal, boiling for revenge?
Dem. 'Tis false.

Ant. Forbear-The king!

Per. Had I received them,

You now had mourned my death, not heard my

cause.

Dares he deny he brought an armed throng?
Call those I name; who dare this deed, dare all;
Yet will not dare deny, that this is true.
My death alone can yield a stronger proof;
Will no less proof than that content a father?
Peri. Perseus, you see, has art, as well as fire;
Nor have the wars worn Athens from his tongue.
Per. Let him, who seeks to bathe in brother's
blood,

Not find well pleased the fountain whence it flowed!

Let him, who shudders at a brother's knife,
Find refuge in the bosom of a father:
For where else can I fly? Whom else implore?
I have no Romans, with their eagle's wings,
To shelter me; Demetrius borrows those,

To mount full rebel-high: I have their hatred ; And, thanks to Heaven! deserve it: good Demetrius

Can see your towns and kingdoms torn away
By these protectors, and ne'er lose his temper.
My weakness I confess; it makes me rave;
It makes me weep-and my tears rarely flow.
Peri. Was ever stronger proof of filial love?
Per. Vain are Rome's hopes, while you and I
survive :

But should the sword take me, and age my father,

(Heaven grant they leave him to the stroke of age!)

minion;

Demetrius' vices, thriving of themselves,
Her fulsome flatteries dung to ranker growth.
Demetrius is the burden of her song;
Each river, hill, and dale, has learnt his name;
While elder Perseus in a whisper dies.
Demetrius treats; Demetrius gives us peace;
Demetrius is our god, and would be so.
My sight is short: look on him you that can:
What sage experience sits upon his brow,
What awful marks of wisdom, who vouchsafes
To patronize a father and a king?
Such patronage is treason.

King. Treason! Death.

Per. Nor let the ties of blood bind up the
hands

Of justice; Nature's ties are broke already :
For, who contend before you? Your two sons ?-
No; read aright, 'tis Macedon and Rome.
A well-masked foreigner, and your-only son,
Guard of your life, and-exile of your love.
Now, bear me to my dungeon: what so fit
As darkness, chains, and death, for such a trai-
tor?

King. Speak, Demetrius.

Ant. My lord, he cannot speak; accept his

tearsInstead of words.

Per. His tears are false as they. Now, with fine phrase, and foppery of tongue, More graceful action, and a smoother tone, That orator of fable, and fair face, Will steal on your bribed hearts, and, as you listen,

Plain truth, and I, plain Perseus, are forgot.
Dem. My father! king! and judge! thrice
awful power!

Your son, your subject, and your prisoner, hear;
Thrice humble state! If I have grace of speech,
(Which gives, it seems, offence) be that no crime,
Which oft has served my country, and my king:
Nor in my brother let it pass for virtue,
That, as he is, ungracious he would seem:
For, oh! he wants not art, though grace may
fail him.

The wonted aids of those that are accused,
Has my accuser seized. He shed false tears,
That my true sorrows might suspected flow:
He seeks my life, and calls me murderer;
And vows no refuge can he find on earth,
That I may want it in a father's arms;

And pour in poison to the bowl of love.
Merit is treason in a younger brother.
King. But clear your conduct with regard to
Rome.

Dem. Alas! dread sir, I grieve to find set
down

Among my crimes, what ought to be my praise,
That I went hostage, or ambassador,
Was Philip's high command, not my request;
Indeed, when there, in both those characters,
I bore in mind to whom I owed my birth:
Rome's favour followed. If it is a crime
To be regarded, spare a crime you caused;
Caused by your orders, and example too.
True, I'm Rome's friend, while Rome is your
ally:

When not, this hostage, this ambassador,

safety.

King. Speak to your charge.

Dem. He charges me with treason.

If I'm a traitor, if I league with Rome,
Why did his zeal forbear me till this hour?
Was treason then no crime, till (as he feigns)
I sought his life? Dares Perseus hold so much
His father's welfare cheaper than his own?
Less cause have I, a brother, to complain.
He says, I wade for empire through his blood:
He says, I place my confidence in Rome:
Why murder him, if Rome will crown my brow?
Will then a sceptre, dipped in brother's blood,
Conciliate love, and make my reign secure?
False are both charges; and he proves them
false,

By placing them together.
Ant. That's well urged.

Dem. Mark, sir, how Perseus, unawares, absolves me

From guilt in all, by loading all with guilt.
Did I design him poison at my feast?
Why then did I provoke him in the field,
That, as he did, he might refuse to come?
When angry he refused, I should have soothed
His roused resentment, and deferred the blow;
Not destined him that moment to my sword,
Which I before instructed him to shun.
Through fear of death, did he decline my ban-
quet?

Could I expect admittance then at his?
These numerous pleas, at variance, overthrow
Each other, and are advocates for me.

Per. No, sir, Posthumius is his advocate. King. Art thou afraid, that I should hear him out?

Dem. Quit then this picture, this well-painted

fear,

And come to that, which touches him indeed.
Why is Demetrius not despised of all,
His second in endowments, as in birth?
How dare I draw the thoughts of Macedon?
How dare I gain esteem with foreign powers?
Esteem, when gained, how dare I to preserve?
These are his secret thoughts; these burn within;
These sting up accusations in his soul;
Turn friendly visits to foul fraud, and murder;

At your command, flies swift on wings of fire, The native thunder of a father's arm.

Ant. There spoke at once the hero and the son!

Dem. To close-To thee, I grant, some thanks
are due; [Speaking to PERSEUS.
Not for thy kindness, but malignity:
Thy character's my friend, though thou my foe:
For, say, whose temper promises most guilt?
Perseus, importunate, demands my death:

I do not ask for his : Ah, no! I feel
Too powerful nature pleading for him here:
But, were there no fraternal tie to bind me,
A son of Philip must be dear to me.
If you, my father, had been angry with me,
An elder brother, a less awful parent,
He should assuage you, he should intercede,
Soften my failings, and indulge my youth:
But my asylum drops its character;

I find not there my rescue, but my ruin.
Per. His bold assurance-
King. Do not interrupt him;
But let thy brother finish his defence.

Dem. Ŏ Perseus! how I tremble as I speak!
Where is a brother's voice, a brother's eye?
Where is the melting of a brother's heart?
Where is our awful father's dread command?
Where a dear dying mother's last request?
Forgot, scorned, hated, trodden under foot!
Thy heart, how dead to every call of nature!
Unson'd! unbrothered! nay, unhumanized!
Far from affection, as thou art near in blood!
Oh! Perseus! Perseus!—But my heart's too
full.
[Falls on ANTIGONUS.
King. Support him!
Per. Vengeance overtake his crimes!
King. No more!

Ant. See from his hoary brow he wipes the dew, Which agony wrings from him,

King. Oh, my friend,

These boys at strife, like Etna's struggling flames,

Convulsions cause, and make a mountain shake;
Shake Philip's firmness, and convulse his heart,
And, with a fiery flood of civil war,
Threaten to deluge my divided land,
I've heard them both; by neither am convinced;

Dem. How shall I clear it, sir?

King. This honest man

Detests the Romans: if you wed his daughter, Rome's foe becomes the guardian of your faith. Dem. I told you, sir, when I returned from Rome

King. How! Dost thou want an absolute command?

Your brother, father, country, all exact it.

Ant. See yonder guards at hand, if you refuse. Nay, more; a father, so distressed, demands A son's compassion, to becalm his heart. Oh! sir, comply.

[Aside to DEMETRIUS. Dem. There! there indeed you touch me! Besides, if I'm confined, and Perseus free, I never, never shall behold her more.Pardon, ye gods! an artifice forced on me. [Aside to ANTIGONUS. Dread sir, your son complies. [To the King. Dym. Astonishment!

King. Strike off his chains. Nay, Perseus too

is free:

In serving him, who gave it. Thus you'll make
Indulgence, justice; and absolve your master.
Though kings delight in raising what they love,
Less owe they to themselves than to the throne;
Nor must they prostitute its majesty,
To swell a subject's pride, howe'er deserving.
Dym. What the king grants me-
Dem. Talk not of a grant;

What a king ought not, that he cannot give;
And what is more than meet from prince's bounty,
Is plunder, not a grant. Think you, his honour
A perquisite belonging to your place,
As favourite paramount? Preserve the king
From doing wrong, though wrong is done for you,
And shew, 'tis not in favour to corrupt thee.
Dym. I sought not, sir, this honour.
Dem. But would take it.

True majesty's the very soul of kings;
And rectitude's the soul of majesty:
If mining minions sap that rectitude,
The king may live, but majesty expires:
And he, that lessens majesty, impairs
That just obedience public good requires;
Doubly a traitor, to the crown and state.

Dym. Must I refuse what Philip's pleased to
give?

Dem. Čan a king give thee more than is his
Own ?

Know, a king's dignity is public wealth;
On that subsists the nation's fame and power.
Shall fawning sycophants, to plump themselves,
Eat up their master, and dethrone his glory?
What are such wretches? What, but vapours
foul,

From fens and bogs, from royal beams exhaled,
That radiance intercepting, which should cheer
The land at large? Hence subjects' hearts grow

cold,

And frozen loyalty forgets to flow;

But, then 'tis slippery standing for the minion:
Stains on his erinine, to their royal master
Such miscreants are; not jewels in his crown.
If you persist, sir-But, of words no more!
To me, to threat is harder than to do.

Dym. Let me embrace this genuine son of empire!

When warm debates divide the doubtful land,
Should I not know the prince most fit to reign?
I've tried you as an eagle tries her young,
And find, your dauntless eye is fixed on glory.
I'll to the king, and your commands obey.-
We must give young men opiates in a fever.

Yes, boy, I will obey thee, to thy ruin!
Erixene shall strike thee dead for this.

[Aside.

[Exit DYMAS. Dem. These statesmen nothing woo but gold and power;

I'm a bold advocate for other love,
Though, at their bar, indicted for a fool.

honour,

By lifting up a minion from the dust,
And mating him with princes! Use your power
Against yourself; yes, use it like a man,

Can break the fiery passions to the bit,
And, spite of their licentious sallies, keep
The radiant track of glory-passions, then,
Are aids and ornaments. Triumphant reason,

He woos the diadem; that diadem, which I
Despised for him. Oh, how unlike our loves!
But it is well; he gives me my revenge.
Wed Dymas' daughter! What a fall is there!
Not the world's empire could repair his glory.
Del. Madam, you can't be moved too much:
But why

More now than at the first?

Erir. At first I doubted;

For who, that loved like me, could have believed?
I disbelieved what Pericles reported;
And thought it Perseus' art to wound our loves.
But when the good Antigonus, sworn friend
To false Demetrius, when his word confirmed it,
Then passion took me, as the northern blast
An autumn leaf. O gods! the dreadful whirl!
But, while I speak, he's with her: laughs and
plays;

Mingles his dalliance with insulting mirth;
To this new goddess offers up my tears;
Yes, with my shame and torture, woos her love.
I see, hear, feel it! O these raging fires!
Can then the thing we scorn give so much pain?
Del. Madam, these transports give him cause
to triumph.

Erix. I vent my grief to thee; he ne'er shall
know it;

If I can't conquer, I'll conceal my passion,
And stifle all its pangs beneath disdain.

Del. The greatest minds are most relenting too;

If then Demetrius should repent his crimeErir. If still my passion burns, it shall burn inward;

On the fierce rack in silence I'll expire,
Before one sigh escape me.-He repent!
What wild extravagance of thought is thine!
But did he? Who repents, has once been false:
In love, repentance but declares our guilt;
And injured honour shall exact its due.

In vain his love, nay mine, should groan in vain ;
Both are devoted. Vengeance, vengeance reigns!
Our first love, murdered, is the sharpest pang
A human heart can feel.

Del. The king approaches.

Enter the King, &c.

King. Madam, at length we see the dawn of peace,

And hope an end of our domestic jars.
The jealous Perseus can no longer fear
Demetrius is a Roman, since this day
Makes him the son of Dymas, Rome's worst foe.
Erir. Already, sir, I've heard, and heard with
joy,

The important news.

King. To make our bliss run o'er, You, madam, will complete what Heaven begins, And save the love-sick Perseus from despair. That marriage would leave Rome without pre