136 SOPHENE AND SOPHOCLES. 



banish myself, or become to it an everlasting object of humiliation. 

 Holy friendship, thou wilt preserve me from so fatal a condition ; 

 thou wilt increase in my heart the bias thou hast implanted in it 

 towards virtue. It is thy faithful associate ; it befriends such as 

 thou delightest in. 



Ah, Imlacca, heaven grant that I may make you sensible of all 

 I feel. Propitious deity, enlighten my mind, and then I will pay 

 thee a tribute worthy of thyself. 



What is that " unknown ardour" which lends me new expressions? 

 It inspires me. Mortals, hearken to me. Daughter of heaven, thou 

 art the most comforting present which, in their love, the gods have 

 blessed mankind with. Thy officious kindness anticipates our wishes. 

 Thou givest thyself up unsolicited to the hearts prepared to 

 receive thee. The profane do not know thee. 



The bonds that tie them to one another have nothing pure or 

 innocent in them. The want they are in of each other is the basis 

 of their union. The most earnest offers, the tenderest protestations, 

 only relate to selfish ends, and they receive only through cupidity. 

 The apparent gratitude which a kindness excites in them is nothing 

 but a covetous sentiment, that only continues as long as it is support- 

 ed by hope. They are not moved by the favours granted, but by 

 those they expect. Do these fail ? They fly off they disappear. 

 They complain of the ingratitude of their friends ; but did ever the 

 ungrateful know what it is to love ? How much we differ from 

 them ! The same inclinations the same desires the same will ; all 

 is in common between us. You are happy in me only. I breathe, 

 I am happy, only in you. Your soul is mine, and mine yours. 

 Charming intercourse ! delicious raptures ! Wholly foreign to the 

 reasonings of the mind, you are the lot of the heart ; it alone is pos- 

 sessed of you, and by its effusions alone are you revealed. 



Imlacca interrupted me with a smile. Perhaps you expect thanks 

 from him unto whom you have just said so "many endearing things. 

 No, dear Sophocles, I will not thank you for them. Sophene would 

 be jealous of it. What you fancy you feel for me, you feel for her. 

 You deceive yourself. You thought that you had painted and de- 

 scribed friendship, when you did but describe and commend love. 

 He that is insensible of it does not express it so well. My predic- 

 tion is accomplished ; lay aside all dissembling ; you burn. How 

 so ? said I, to him with a sigh. Will you banter me into despair ? 

 I do not, I will not love. Far from supplying that cruel god with 

 arms against me, you should shield me against him. I, replied he, 

 shall I oppose the gods '? They would punish me for it. You 

 yourself would take it unkindly of me. 



Jupiter, exclaimed I, protect him whom every one forsakes. 

 Come on ; let us go to the temple, in order to fulfill the duties of 

 my office. If, nothing but an escape can save me from so me- 

 nacing a danger, I am ready to return to Eurycone. If you think 

 that the charms of Sophene can fix rne here, prevent my seeing her 

 again. If, in spite of myself, I refuse to follow you, make use of 

 violence, and drag me back along with you. So speaking, 1 em- 

 braced him, I bathed his face with tears, I drew sighs, I groaned ; 



