ION I A TRAGEDY. 



13 



In our delightful nest. My father's spies 

 Slaves, whom my nod should have consign'd to stripes 

 Or the swift falchion track'd our sylvan home 

 Just as my bosom knew its second joy, 

 And, spite of fortune, I embraced a son. 

 Ion. Urged by thy trembling parent to avert 

 That dreadful prophecy ? 



Adrastus. Fools ! did they deem 



Its worst accomplishment could match the ill 

 Which they wrought on me ? It had left unharm'd 

 A thousand ecstacies of passicn'd years, 

 Which, tasted once, live ever, and disdain 

 Fate's iron grapple ! Could I now behold 

 That son with knife uplifted at my heart, 

 A moment ere my life-blood followed it, 

 I would embrace him with, my dying eyes, 

 And pardon destiny ! While jocund smiles 

 Wreathed on the infant's face, as if sweet spirits 

 Suggested pleasant fancies to its soul, 

 The ruffians broke upon us ; seiz'd the child ; 

 Dash'd through the thicket to the beetling rock 

 'Neath which the deep wave eddies : 1 stood still 

 As stricken into stone : I heard him cry, 

 Press'd by the rudeness of the murderer's gripe, 

 Severer ill unfearing then the splash 

 Of waters that shall cover him for ever ; 

 And could not stir to save him ! 

 Ion. And tho mother 



Adrastus. She spake no word, but clasped me in her arms, 

 And lay her down to die. A lingering gaze 

 Of love she fixed on me none other loved, 

 And so pass'd hence. By Jupiter, her look ! 

 Her dying patience glimmers in thy face ! 

 She lives again ! She looks upon me now ! 

 There's magic in 't. Bear with me I am childish. 



Ion succeeds in awakening the sympathies of Adrastus; and, gain- 

 ing his consent to an interview with the elders of the city, returns 

 in safety to the temple, where he is eagerly welcomed by Medon 

 and his own beloved Clemanthe, in an interview which is interrupted 

 by the arrival of Phocion, the high priest's son, with tidings from the 

 shrine of Delphi. The scene of the interview between the king and 

 the elders, and the announcement of the prophecy " Argos ne'er 

 shall find release, till her monarch's race shall cease" is very finely 

 wrought. Ion's warning to Adrastus, and the king's reply, runs as 

 follows: 



Ion. Nay, yet an instant ! let my speech have power 



From Heaven to move thee further : thou hast heard 

 The sentence of the god, and thy heart owns it ; 

 If thou wilt cast aside this cumbrous pomp, 

 And in seclusion purify thy soul, 

 Long fever'd and sophisticate, the gods 

 May give thee space for penitential thoughts ; 

 If not as surely as thou standest here, 

 Wilt thou lie stiff and weltering in thy blood. 

 The vision presses on me now. 



Adrastus. Art mad? 



Resign thy state ? Sue to the gods for life, 



