I take with me. Alas, my people! E'en to the second Deluge now the plague May rage at will, may pile mount Oeta high With corpses upon corpses, and may turn All Greece into one mighty charnel-house, Ere Semele can bend the angry gods. I, thou, and Greece, and all, have been betrayed! SEMELE. (Trembling as she rises, and extending an arm towards her.)    Oh, Beroe! JUNO. Take courage, my dear heart! Perchance 'tis Zeus! although it scarce can be! Perchance 'tis really Zeus! This we must learn! He must disclose himself to thee, or thou Must fly his sight forever, and devote The monster to the death-revenge of Thebes. Look up, dear daughter—look upon the face Of thine own Beroe, who looks on thee With sympathizing eyes—my Semele, Were it not well to try him? SEMELE. No, by heaven! I should not find him then—     JUNO. What! Wilt thou be Perchance less wretched, if thou pinest on In mournful doubt?—and if 'tis really he,—     SEMELE. (Hiding her face in Juno's lap.)    Ah! 'tis not he! JUNO. And if he came to thee Arrayed in all the majesty wherein Olympus sees him? Semele! What then? Wouldst thou repent thee then of having tried him? SEMELE. (Springing up.)    Ha! be it so! He must unveil himself! JUNO. (Hastily.)    Thou must not let him sink into thine arms.    Till he unveils himself—so hearken, child, To what thy faithful nurse now counsels thee,—    To what affection whispers in mine ear, And will accomplish!—Say! will he soon come? SEMELE. Before Hyperion sinks in Thetis' bed, He promised to appear. JUNO. (Forgetting herself hastily.) Is't so, indeed? He promised? Ha! To-day? (Recovering herself.) Let him approach, And when he would attempt, inflamed with love, To clasp his arms around thee, then do thou,—    Observe me well,—as if by lightning struck, Start back in haste. Ha! picture his surprise! Leave him not long in wonderment, my child; Continue to repulse him with a look As cold as ice—more wildly, with more ardor He'll press thee then—the coyness of the fair Is but a dam, that for awhile keeps back The torrent, only to increase the flood With greater fury. Then begin to weep    'Gainst giants he might stand,—look calmly on When Typheus, hundred-armed, in fury hurled Mount Ossa and Olympus 'gainst his throne:    But Zeus is soon subdued by beauty's tears. Thou smilest?—Be it so! Is, then, the scholar Wiser, perchance, than she who teaches her?—    Then thou must pray the god one little, little Most innocent request to grant to thee—    One that may seal his love and godhead too. He'll swear by Styx. The Styx he must obey! That oath he dares not break! 

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