SOPIIENE AND SOPHOCLES. 357 



Overwhelmed with that unexpected event, Sophene turned pale, 

 and, hiding her face with her hands, feigned a violent head-ache. 

 They carried her to her bed. Panthia, uneasy about her daughter's 

 health, whose indisposition 'increased, staid with her, and was un- 

 willing to go to the temple. While they were assembling in order 

 to repair thither, I stole away ; T was called for, but did not answer, 

 and, despising the danger I exposed myself to, I crept into Sophene's 

 chamber. Closely embraced, heaving sighs, and bursting into tears, 

 our groans were long our only interpreters. What a heart-breaking, 

 what a woeful condition! Love, thou sawest the excess of our 

 griefs ; they moved thee to take some pity on us. Thou mightest 

 have put an end to them, but thou wert pleased to try us before 

 hand. However dear and precious a thing may be to us, it is 

 always more so when we are on the point of losing it. I then 

 forcibly felt the truth of this reflection. Sophene's charms shone 

 with redoubled lustre ; I had not yet seen her so handsome, and 

 never had I so fondly loved her. Her silence, her sorrow, her 

 languishing and dejected looks, all contributed to the increase both 

 of my love and my despair. 



Alas, said I, you were but too right in your surmises. We are 

 on the brink of a separation. Sophene ! must I lose you ? Shall 

 another possess your heart, which is due to me alone ? Shall another 

 owe his happiness to you ? Sophene I can you consent to it, and 

 can I think of it without dying ? 



Fear not, said she. The day that shines upon that fatal union 

 shall be the last of my life. Thou weepest ; but what do tears 

 avail ? Is there no hope left for us? The only course we can take, 

 replied I, my despair will point out. Woe to the authors of our 

 misfortunes, to the rash young man who dares avow himself my 

 rival ! woe to thyself, Sosthenes ! What dost thou say, Sophocles ? 

 Can thy passion distract thee so far, and betray thee into mixing a 

 threat with the name of " my father V 9 Ought he not to be secure 

 from the outrages of the man who demands me of him? Do not lay 

 our miseries to his charge. Let appearances be what they will, he 

 may be ignorant of our mutual affection, or at least how deeply 

 Cupid has been pleased to wound us in so short a space. Ah! 

 Sophene ! does he not know that I have a heart and that I have seen 

 you? I cannot make use of my reason, and perhaps it is in vain that I 

 entreat you to call forth yours. I see nothing but the horror of 

 our condition. My poor parents! but for me, how happy would 

 you have been ! Shall I have it one day in my power to atone for 

 my offences ? But you, O gods ! who distract my mind with a 

 " tyrannical passion" which I cannot command, at least make them 

 amends by other blessings. Think no more, Sophocles, of those 

 wild projects, of which the idea alone terrifies me. 



Those violent struggles between her affection and her duty were too 

 much for her to bear. Her colour fled from her cheek, her eyes closed, 

 and she swooned away under their oppressing agitation. This scene 

 overwhelmed me ; I thought she was dead, and I resolved to die with 

 her. Love stopped her fugitive soul ; he restored her to life again. 



M.M. No. 10. 2Z 



