"My rage he scorns, and negligent appears, / And thinks the Storm will melt away in tears"
— Crowne, John (bap. 1641, d. 1712)
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed by T. Ratcliffe, & N. Thompson, for Richard Bentley [etc.]
Date
August, 1674; 1675
Metaphor
"My rage he scorns, and negligent appears, / And thinks the Storm will melt away in tears"
Metaphor in Context
HERM.
Where am I? what have I done? what shall I do?
Oh! my transports! sorrow and rage devour me!
I raving, wander round the mournful rooms,
And do not know whither I go, or why;
I scarce can tell yet if I love or hate.
How coldly did the cruel Man take leave,
He would not the least grief or pity own,
I could not draw from him one little groan!
Dumb to my sighs, his mind did not appear,
Disturb'd the least, nor to regard one tear!
Nor would to give my heart some small relief,
So much as counterfeit a little grief.
And yet I pity him!--my heart--base heart!--
His danger fears, and yet will take his part!--
I tremble at the blow that is so near,
Would save him yet, and my own vengeance fear.
No--my just sentence I will not revoke--
Let him straight perish--let him feel the stroke!
I no controll will to my vengeance give,
He dyes--since he no more for me will live.
My rage he scorns, and negligent appears,
And thinks the Storm will melt away in tears.
That rage my feeble heart not long will seize,
And judges me by my past kindnesses.
But other thoughts shall in his Soul take place,
When Death shall all his Triumphs streight deface.
His bloud this moment let Orestes spill--
He causes it, for he compells my will!--
--My will!--Oh Gods! can I so cruel prove?
And shall his death be the effect of Love?
His death to whom I paid such regard,
Whose brave exploits I've with such pleasure heard.
To whom my Soul was long in secret joyn'd,
Before our fatal marriage was design'd!
For whom I ve travers'd many Lands and Seas,
And was I hither sent by destinies?
T' assassine--murder him!--Oh! ere he dyes!--
Enter Clæone.
But see Clæone! ah! what have I done?
What dost thou come to tell me? where is Pyrrhus?
What does he mean?
Where am I? what have I done? what shall I do?
Oh! my transports! sorrow and rage devour me!
I raving, wander round the mournful rooms,
And do not know whither I go, or why;
I scarce can tell yet if I love or hate.
How coldly did the cruel Man take leave,
He would not the least grief or pity own,
I could not draw from him one little groan!
Dumb to my sighs, his mind did not appear,
Disturb'd the least, nor to regard one tear!
Nor would to give my heart some small relief,
So much as counterfeit a little grief.
And yet I pity him!--my heart--base heart!--
His danger fears, and yet will take his part!--
I tremble at the blow that is so near,
Would save him yet, and my own vengeance fear.
No--my just sentence I will not revoke--
Let him straight perish--let him feel the stroke!
I no controll will to my vengeance give,
He dyes--since he no more for me will live.
My rage he scorns, and negligent appears,
And thinks the Storm will melt away in tears.
That rage my feeble heart not long will seize,
And judges me by my past kindnesses.
But other thoughts shall in his Soul take place,
When Death shall all his Triumphs streight deface.
His bloud this moment let Orestes spill--
He causes it, for he compells my will!--
--My will!--Oh Gods! can I so cruel prove?
And shall his death be the effect of Love?
His death to whom I paid such regard,
Whose brave exploits I've with such pleasure heard.
To whom my Soul was long in secret joyn'd,
Before our fatal marriage was design'd!
For whom I ve travers'd many Lands and Seas,
And was I hither sent by destinies?
T' assassine--murder him!--Oh! ere he dyes!--
Enter Clæone.
But see Clæone! ah! what have I done?
What dost thou come to tell me? where is Pyrrhus?
What does he mean?
Categories
Provenance
Searching in HDIS (Drama)
Citation
John Crowne, Andromache. A Tragedy. As it is acted at the Dukes Theatre (London: T. Ratcliffe and N. Thompson, 1675). <Link to Google Books>
Date of Entry
11/15/2004
