212 SOFHENE AMD SOPHOCLES. 



Sophene had taken no part. Rhodope stopped me. " Had I," said 

 she, " the might of those goda whose image you say I am, you should 

 be free, or happy at least." " Alas !" said I, " the first is indifferent 

 to me — the other impossible." " Then," added she, " you make too 

 little of my power." " No," was my reply; " but were you a god, 

 ■what could you effectuate alone against the will of all the other powers 

 on high against you ?" " Tacita," pursued she, " do you think 

 your misfortunes past recovery ? That is an ' error' common to such as 

 labour under adverse fortune. Inform me of all your mischances. I 

 know not whether my concern for you deceives me ; but I could almost 

 assure you they will end sooner than you expect, and that I shall have a 

 hand in it." " Oh, Rhodope !" cried I, hurried away by an invincible 

 charm, " I can deny you nothing. It will cost me many a bitter tear 

 — life, perhaps ; but you shall be obeyed." 



Rhodope lent a " patient ear" to the relation of my adventurous mis- 

 fortunes. Though her beauty was so transcendent, she seemed jealous 

 of that I had ascribed to Sophene, and looked upon what I had told her 

 concerning it as an exaggeration from an infuriated lover. " But," 

 added I, " all that I can urge to enforce the truth of what I have said 

 is to no purpose — it cannot be proved — Sophene is no more !" 



My spirits were exhausted by the constraint and the pain they had 

 sustained so long ; a cloud overspread my eyes — I fainted away. Rho- 

 dope called for help ! They bore me to the bed of Dymas. " Tacita," 

 said she, " shall I be the occasion of your death ?" She wiped my 

 " flowing tears" away ; she laid her hand upon my heart to revive 

 it. Tears trickled down her cheeks. I came to myself again ; but, 

 unable to bear the light, I lost my senses a second time. Something 

 more powerful than Rhodope's hand relieved me anew — I heard a voice 

 that struck my heart ! I thought I recollected it ; I cast my tearful and 

 dim eves about me — I fixed them upon a young slave named Sylla, 

 eager to assist Rhodope, who had fallen into a swoon. Except some 

 alteration in her features, some paleness, an incommunicable melan- 

 choly spread over her face, I found that she perfectly resembled So- 

 phene. It was she ! — I could no longer doubt it. Deceitful idea ! — it 

 lasted but a moment. I upbraided mine own eyes with their impos- 

 ture ; and that phantom and torturing pleasure which had so lately 

 charmed me, seemed nothing but an error the gods were pleased to 

 lead me into. 



The slaves of Rhodope had carried off their mistress. Dymas came 

 in. I was alone — discomposed and dejected ; but that man, whose 

 natural haughtiness had received an increase by the honours conferred 

 on him, did not stoop so low as to look at me — he took notice of 

 nothing. 



When I was permitted to step again into the garden, I began 

 leisurely to meditate upon what had befallen me : I durst not, nor was I 

 anxious to dive into Rhodope's sentiments. That which is not the 

 object of our desires affords us neither fear nor hope : I was so unhappy 

 that I could neither appear to be so — nor be so. 



The slave I had seen still returned to my mind. I was vexed with 

 myself for thinking of her ; and I could not account for, nor could I 

 help it. I asked myself, what Sylla had in common with Sophene, and 



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