Such majestic atoms First made the world." Mithridates is written with great power, and is one of the chief supports of our favourable opinion of Lee. So much of the plot as is necessary to understand our extracts, may be speedily told. Ziphares, son of Mithridates, king of Pontus, returning from a successful campaign against the Romans, solicits, as the reward of his services, his father's consent to his marriage with Semandra, the daughter of Archilaus, a veteran general. This request is made in the temple, just as the nuptials of Mithridates with Monima had been interrupted by evil omens. The amorous monarch conceives an instantaneous and violent passion for Semandra, and abruptly refusing his son's petition, has her conveyed to the palace. After a violent struggle with himself, his better feelings prevail, and he promises to unite the lovers, on the return of Ziphares from another military expedition on which he is sent; resolving in the mean time not to trust himself in Semandra's presence. He is tricked into the violation of this wholesome resolution by the agents of Pharnaces, another of his sons, the concealed but deadly enemy of his brother Ziphares, who is plotting to seize his father's crown by Roman assistance. The consequence of this renewed passion is a determination to possess Semandra at all events. She is terrified into receiving Ziphares with coldness on his return, by threats of his destruction if she suffered the slightest mark of affection to escape her; and then forcibly made the wife of Mithridates. The scene in which Pelopidas induces Mithridates to violate the retirement of Semandra, is a finished exhibition of dexterous and successful villainy in the one, and of passion triumphing over reason by means of gross self-delusion in the other. Mithridates. What are her charms to me? And yet, methinks, the sight might draw down Jove- I thought your godlike frame, your strength of mind, But if you doubt yourself. Mith. I think I need not: I think my virtue is resolved: but yet Pelop. 'Tis well resolved: and yet, methinks, 'twould raise Your pity, more than love, to see the tears Force through her snowy lids their melting course, As dews, by winds, are wafted from the flowers. Mith. "Tis wondrous pitiful: by heaven, it is! I feel her sorrow working here; it calls Pelop. If you the least suspect Your temper, if the smallest breath of love Mith. "Twill be as well, tho' I believe no power Pelop. Behold her then upon a flowery bank, That seem'd t'embrace the body whence they grew, Waving her robes, display'd such handsome limbs The wanton goddess. Mith. Something there is stirs mightily my breast; 'Tis pity; sure, it can be only pity: Who knows but that her multiplying fears, And cruel griefs, in time may give her death? Pelop. Then you dare trust your heart? By heaven, my friends, I dare: I feel such strong Pelop. O sacred Sir, turn back: if, conquer'd by Therefore, my lord Mith. Away; by heaven, I'll go. Pelop. O'tis impossible if once you lov'd, Therefore your fearful servant kneels and begs Mith. I'll see her; yes, it is resolv'd, I'll see her, Pelop. Alas, My lord, I fear you; but it is your pleasure, Mith. Reply not; but obey. Semandra escapes him, but the consciousness of meditated injury to his son seeks for relief in suspicions of his fidelity, and the shouts of the people without on his triumphal return, with the insinuations of Pelopidas and Pharnaces, inflame him almost to madness. Pelop. He comes, my Lord, and with a port as proud, A glut of people, you would think some God Mith. Ungrateful slaves! By Mars, when I return'd, Worn with the hardship of a ten years' war, They ne'er receiv'd me with a pomp like this. Pelop. Nay, as I heard, e'er he the city enter'd, To make the concert up of general joy. Mith. What, will you bear your part too? O the Gods! He is transported with the ample theme, And plays the orator! Plagues rot thy tongue, And blasted be the lungs that breath'd his welcome. Perish the bodies that went forth to meet him, A prey for worms to stink in hollow ground. O viper, villain! Not content to take My love, but life! Wilt thou unthrone me too? A stale, the image of what once he was; A thing for slaves to be familiar with, To gape, to nod, and sleep in my scorn'd face? Rouse thee to act, &c.— The fourth act opens with Mithridates waking from sleep, on the morning after his forcible marriage of Semandra. We can only insert parts of this scene, the whole of which is admirable. Mith. What hoa! Pelopidas! Why, Andravar! The Enter Pelopidas, Andravar. Pelop. What would your majesty? Mith. I would, what I must ne'er expect on earth, If fate did e'er foreshew a doom in sleep, Mine is at hand. Prest with remorse, I rested on my couch, Pelop. I have heard of dreams that proved ominous; Mith. Methought, by heavenly order I was doom'd I shot the lake of oaths, where fleeting ghosts, To the bright, heavenly plains, the happy fields. Andr. I wonder that the brittle thread of thought Mith. Oh, now it comes ! After that heavenly sounds had charm'd my ears, Slain by my jealousy of their ambition, Who shriek'd, He's come! Our cruel father's come! Of all those Romans massacred in Asia: I heard the empty clank of their thin arms, Methought, that Pompey was my son Ziphares. At this juncture, the actual approach of Pompey, to avenge the disgrace which the Roman arms had sustained, is announced: Mithridates exclaims, Not Pompey, but Ziphares comes, with all his wrongs for arms, Like the lieutenant of the Gods, against me: Stands on his side. |