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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29222-8.txt b/29222-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7bb479a --- /dev/null +++ b/29222-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4687 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prince of Parthia, by Thomas Godfrey + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Prince of Parthia + A Tragedy + +Author: Thomas Godfrey + +Release Date: June 26, 2009 [EBook #29222] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCE OF PARTHIA *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + +This e-book contains the text of _The Prince of Parthia_, extracted from +Representative Plays by American Dramatists: Vol 1, 1765-1819. Comments and +background to all the plays and the other plays are available at Project +Gutenberg. + +Spelling as in the original has been preserved. + + + + +THE + +PRINCE OF PARTHIA + + +_A TRAGEDY_ + + + + +THOMAS GODFREY, JR. (1736-1763) + + +Thomas Godfrey, Jr., was born in Philadelphia, on December 4, 1736, +the son of a man who himself won fame as an inventor of the Quadrant. +Godfrey, Senior, was a friend of Benjamin Franklin, the two probably +having been drawn together by their common interest in science. When +Godfrey, Senior, died, December, 1749, it was Franklin who wrote his +obituary notice.[1] + +Young Godfrey was a student at the College or Academy of Philadelphia, +and when his education was completed, he became apprenticed to a +watch-maker, remaining in that profession until 1758. As a student at +the Academy, he came under the special influence of Dr. William Smith, +the first Principal or Provost of that institution,[2] and it was Dr. +Smith who not only obtained for Godfrey a lieutenancy with the +Pennsylvania troops in 1758, which sent him in the expedition against +Fort Duquesne, but who, likewise, as the Editor of _The American +Magazine_, was only too glad to accept and publish some of Godfrey's +poetical effusions. + +That the young man was popular, and that he associated with some of +the most promising figures of the time, will be seen from the fact +that, although he was only twenty-seven when he died, he was counted +among the friends of Benjamin West and John Green, both portrait +painters, of Francis Hopkinson, who was a student at the College of +Philadelphia, and of Nathaniel Evans, a young minister whose loyalty +found outlet after Godfrey's death in the Memorial Edition of +Godfrey's works. Evans himself wrote poems and dialogues. In his +confirmation of the fact that, as a poet, Godfrey was regarded +favourably by the Philadelphians of the time, he quotes from the diary +of one Miss Sarah Eve, who referred to him as "our poet." + +Godfrey's reputation, as a young man with musical talents and a +decided taste for painting, has come down to us. Certain it is that, +during all of this time of varied occupation as a watch-maker and a +soldier, he must have been courting the poetic Muse. There are some +who speculate, without authority, on his having been a theatre-goer, +and having become inspired as a playwright by the work of the American +Company, in Philadelphia; especially by the good work of Douglass. +Because of insufficient evidence, that is a question which remains +unproven. Nevertheless, it is certain, from an extant letter written +by Godfrey on November 17, 1759, and quoted by Seilhamer, that he must +have had his attention turned to playwriting as a special art. He says +to his correspondent, writing from North Carolina: + + By the last vessel from this place, I sent you the copy of a + tragedy I finished here, and desired your interest in bringing + it on the stage; I have not yet heard of the vessel's safe + arrival, and believe if she is safe it will be too late for the + company now in Philadelphia. [Meaning, of course, Douglass's + company.] + +There are two facts to be noted in this communication: first, that it +was written from North Carolina, where, in 1759, Godfrey had gone on +some plantation business--probably as factor; and second, that it must +have been penned with the idea of immediate production by the actors +in Philadelphia. According to Seilhamer, Godfrey remained in North +Carolina for three years. He did not write the entire manuscript of +"The Prince of Parthia" while living in the South but, as he +definitely states in his letter, finished it soon after his arrival. + +There is no evidence as to why Godfrey sailed to the Island of New +Providence in the last year of his life, and then returned to +Wilmington, N.C. There is no definite statement as to whether he +contracted fever and had a sunstroke on that expedition, or after his +return home. But, nevertheless, he did contract the fever and have a +sunstroke; with the result that he succumbed to his illness, and died +near Wilmington, North Carolina, on August 3, 1763.[3] + +After his death, Godfrey's friends decided among themselves that the +young man was too much of a genius for them to allow his productions +to remain scattered and unrecognized. Evidently, correspondence +regarding this must have taken place between Dr. Smith, Nathaniel +Evans, the young minister, and John Green, the portrait painter. For, +in 1765, a book was published, entitled "Juvenile Poems on Various +Subjects, with the Prince of Parthia," printed in Philadelphia by one +Henry Miller.[4] The volume contained a life written by Evans, a +critical estimate written by Dr. Smith, of the College of +Philadelphia, and an Elegy from the pen of John Green, who had been +previously complimented by Godfrey in a poem entitled "A Night Piece." +The whole spirit of the publication was one of friendly devotion and +of firm belief in the permanency of Godfrey's position in the literary +world. As was the custom of the time, the Edition was issued under the +patronage of subscribers, a list being included. We know, for example, +that Benjamin Franklin subscribed for twelve copies, his own private, +autographed copy having been put on sale a few years ago. + +As yet, no concerted effort had been made for the production of +Godfrey's "The Prince of Parthia." We do not know if, during this +time, the American Company had any claim on the manuscript, or +whether, after Godfrey's death, it was again submitted to the +theatrical people. But this much we do know, that, very hastily, the +American Company, headed by David Douglass, who was playing at the +Southwark Theatre in Philadelphia, decided that they would put on "The +Prince of Parthia" in place of "The Disappointment; or, the Force of +Credulity," a comic opera which will be noted in my introduction to +John Leacock's "The Fall of British Tyranny." This musical piece had +actually been put into rehearsal in 1767, when it was withdrawn. +Immediately, the _Pennsylvania Journal and Weekly Advertiser_ for +April 23, 1767, contained an advertisement of the forthcoming +production; it ran as follows: + + By Authority./Never Performed before./By the American + Company,/at the New Theatre, in Southwark,/On Friday, the + Twenty-fourth of April, will be/presented, A Tragedy written by + the late ingenious/Mr. _Thomas Godfrey_, of this city, called + the/Prince of Parthia./The Principal Characters by Mr. + Hallam,/Mr. Douglass, Mr. Wall, Mr. Morris,/Mr. Allyn, Mr. + Tomlinson, Mr. Broad/belt, Mr. Greville, Mrs. Douglass,/Mrs. + Morris, Miss Wainwight, and/Miss Cheer./To which will be added, + A Ballad Opera called/The Contrivances./To begin exactly at + _Seven o'clock_.--_Vivant Rex & Regina._/ + +In the _Pennsylvania Gazette_, for the same date, appears an +advertisement, without the cast of characters. + +The production occurred on April 24, 1767. + +Seilhamer gives a probable cast of characters, although only the list +of actors is given in the advertisement. Apart from this, little is +known of the production: whether or not it pleased the theatre-goers +of the time. We can judge, however, from the reading of the play +itself, that there was little of extreme dramatic excellence in the +situations, the chief claim, from the actor's point of view, being the +opportunity to deliver certain very highly coloured, poetical lines +modelled after the manner of the Elizabethan drama. + +In the publication of "The Prince of Parthia," we have the first +printed American tragedy in existence, and in its production we have +one of only two plays, written by Americans, and presented on the +stage before the Revolution. The other play is George Cockings's "The +Conquest of Canada; or, The Siege of Quebec," printed for the author +in 1766, and presented in Philadelphia in 1773. We note, in Dr. F. W. +Atkinson's estimable Bibliography of American Plays in his possession, +that Cockings later described himself as "Camillo Querno, Poet +Laureate to Congress." + +The interest in the early history of the American drama, which has +become evident within recent years, and nowhere more evident than +among the student body in our American colleges, induced the +Zelosophic Literary Society, encouraged by the University of +Pennsylvania, to revive "The Prince of Parthia," which was written by +one of their alumni. The production was consummated on March 26, 1915. +Even though we have no statement as to the actual manner in which the +Douglass Company presented the play originally, we are given every +evidence, by those who witnessed the revival, that the play, while +containing many excellences, was not of a dramatic character according +to modern ideas of stage effectiveness. + +The only portrait of Godfrey known to have been in existence was that +painted by Benjamin West, in his earlier years. It is interesting to +note that in commemoration of the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary +of the original production of this play, Dr. Archibald Henderson, of +the University of North Carolina, issued an _édition de luxe_ of "The +Prince of Parthia," with an extended introduction, historical, +biographical and critical (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1917). + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] A notice appeared in the Pennsylvania _Gazette_, December 19, +1749. See Scharf and Westcott's "History of Philadelphia" for +references to Godfrey, Sr. Therein is given a picture of his house in +Germantown, Pa. Barlow mentions him in his "Columbiad." A monument to +his memory was erected in Laurel Hill Cemetery, Philadelphia, 1843. +Note that David Rittenhouse, an American dramatist who translated, +from the German, "Lucy Sampson; or, The Unhappy Heiress" (1789), was +likewise a mathematical genius. + +[2] Accounts of Dr. Smith are to be found in Henry Simpson's "Eminent +Philadelphians"; Scharf & Westcott's "History of Philadelphia," ii, +1126. Dr. Smith's "Life and Correspondence," by Horace Wemyss Smith, +was issued in 2 vols., 1879. + +[3] Visitors to Wilmington, N.C., will be taken to Old St. James's +Church-yard, where Godfrey lies buried. + +[4] Juvenile Poems/on/Various Subjects./With the/Prince of +Parthia,/A/Tragedy,/By the Late/Mr. Thomas Godfrey, Junr./of +Philadelphia./To which is prefixed,/Some Account of the Author and +his Writings./Poeta nascitur non fit. Hor./Philadelphia,/Printed by +Henry Miller, in Second-Street./M DCC LXV. + + + + +[Illustration: JUVENILE POEMS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. WITH THE PRINCE OF +PARTHIA, A TRAGEDY. + +FAC-SIMILE OF ORIGINAL TITLE-PAGE TO FIRST EDITION] + + + + +ADVERTISEMENT + + +Our Author has made Use of the _licentia poetica_ in the Management of +this Dramatic Piece; and deviates, in a particular or two, from what +is agreed on by Historians: The Queen _Thermusa_ being not the Wife of +King _Artabanus_, but (according to _Tacitus_, _Strabo_ and +_Josephus_) of _Phraates_; _Artabanus_ being the fourth King of +_Parthia_ after him. Such Lapses are not unprecedented among the +Poets; and will the more readily admit of an Excuse, when the Voice of +History is followed in the Description of Characters. + + + + +DRAMATIS PERSONÆ + + +MEN. + +ARTABANUS, King of Parthia. + +ARSACES, } +VARDANES, } his Sons. +GOTARZES, } + +BARZAPHERNES, Lieutenant-Generales, under Arsac. + +LYSIAS, } Officers at Court. +PHRAATES, } + +BETHAS, a Noble Captive. + + +WOMEN. + +THERMUSA, the Queen. + +EVANTHE, belov'd by Arsaces. + +CLEONE, her Confident. + +EDESSA, Attendant on the Queen. + + +Guards and Attendants. + +SCENE, _Ctesiphon_. + + + + +THE PRINCE OF PARTHIA + +_A TRAGEDY_ + + + + +ACT I. + + +SCENE I. _The Temple of the Sun._ + +_GOTARZES and PHRAATES._ + +GOTARZES. + +He comes, Arsaces comes, my gallant Brother +(Like shining Mars in all the pomp of conquest) +Triumphant enters now our joyful gates; +Bright Victory waits on his glitt'ring car, +And shews her fav'rite to the wond'ring croud; +While Fame exulting sounds the happy name +To realms remote, and bids the world admire. +Oh! 'tis a glorious day:--let none presume +T'indulge the tear, or wear the gloom of sorrow; +This day shall shine in Ages yet to come, +And grace the Parthian story. + +PHRAATES. + + Glad Ctes'phon +Pours forth her numbers, like a rolling deluge, +To meet the blooming Hero; all the ways, +On either side, as far as sight can stretch, +Are lin'd with crouds, and on the lofty walls +Innumerable multitudes are rang'd. +On ev'ry countenance impatience sate +With roving eye, before the train appear'd. +But when they saw the Darling of the Fates, +They rent the air with loud repeated shouts; +The Mother shew'd him to her infant Son, +And taught his lisping tongue to name Arsaces: +E'en aged Sires, whose sounds are scarcely heard, +By feeble strength supported, tost their caps, +And gave their murmur to the gen'ral voice. + +GOTARZES. + +The spacious streets, which lead up to the Temple, +Are strew'd with flow'rs; each, with frantic joy, +His garland forms, and throws it in the way. +What pleasure, Phraates, must swell his bosom, +To see the prostrate nation all around him, +And know he's made them happy! to hear them +Tease the Gods, to show'r their blessings on him! +Happy Arsaces! fain I'd imitate +Thy matchless worth, and be a shining joy! + +PHRAATES. + +Hark! what a shout was that which pierc'd the skies! +It seem'd as tho' all Nature's beings join'd, +To hail thy glorious Brother. + +GOTARZES. + + Happy Parthia! +Now proud Arabia dreads her destin'd chains, +While shame and rout disperses all her sons. +Barzaphernes pursues the fugitives, +The few whom fav'ring Night redeem'd from slaughter; +Swiftly they fled, for fear had wing'd their speed, +And made them bless the shade which saf'ty gave. + +PHRAATES. + +What a bright hope is ours, when those dread pow'rs +Who rule yon heav'n, and guide the mov'ments here, +Shall call your royal Father to their joys: +In blest Arsaces ev'ry virtue meets; +He's gen'rous, brave, and wise, and good, +Has skill to act, and noble fortitude +To face bold danger, in the battle firm, +And dauntless as a Lion fronts his foe. +Yet is he sway'd by ev'ry tender passion, +Forgiving mercy, gentleness and love; +Which speak the Hero friend of humankind. + +GOTARZES. + +And let me speak, for 'tis to him I owe +That here I stand, and breath the common air, +And 'tis my pride to tell it to the world. +One luckless day as in the eager chace +My Courser wildly bore me from the rest, +A monst'rous Leopard from a bosky fen +Rush'd forth, and foaming lash'd the ground, +And fiercely ey'd me as his destin'd quarry. +My jav'lin swift I threw, but o'er his head +It erring pass'd, and harmless in the air +Spent all its force; my falchin then I seiz'd, +Advancing to attack my ireful foe, +When furiously the savage sprung upon me, +And tore me to the ground; my treach'rous blade +Above my hand snap'd short, and left me quite +Defenceless to his rage; Arsaces then, +Hearing the din, flew like some pitying pow'r, +And quickly freed me from the Monster's paws, +Drenching his bright lance in his spotted breast. + +PHRAATES. + +How diff'rent he from arrogant Vardanes? +That haughty Prince eyes with a stern contempt +All other Mortals, and with lofty mien +He treads the earth as tho' he were a God. +Nay, I believe that his ambitious soul, +Had it but pow'r to its licentious wishes, +Would dare dispute with Jove the rule of heav'n; +Like a Titanian son with giant insolence, +Match with the Gods, and wage immortal war, +'Til their red wrath should hurl him headlong down, +E'en to destruction's lowest pit of horror. + +GOTARZES. + +Methinks he wears not that becoming joy +Which on this bright occasion gilds the court; +His brow's contracted with a gloomy frown, +Pensive he stalks along, and seems a prey +To pining discontent. + +PHRAATES. + + Arsaces he dislikes, +For standing 'twixt him, and the hope of Empire; +While Envy, like a rav'nous Vulture, tears +His canker'd heart, to see your Brother's triumph. + +GOTARZES. + +And yet Vardanes owes that hated Brother +As much as I; 'twas summer last, as we +Were bathing in Euphrates' flood, Vardanes +Proud of strength would seek the further shore; +But ere he the mid-stream gain'd, a poignant pain +Shot thro' his well-strung nerves, contracting all, +And the stiff joints refus'd their wonted aid. +Loudly he cry'd for help, Arsaces heard, +And thro' the swelling waves he rush'd to save +His drowning Brother, and gave him life, +And for the boon the Ingrate pays him hate. + +PHRAATES. + +There's something in the wind, for I've observ'd +Of late he much frequents the Queen's apartment, +And fain would court her favour, wild is she +To gain revenge for fell Vonones' death, +And firm resolves the ruin of Arsaces. +Because that fill'd with filial piety, +To save his Royal Sire, he struck the bold +Presumptuous Traitor dead; nor heeds she +The hand which gave her Liberty, nay rais'd her +Again to Royalty. + +GOTARZES. + + Ingratitude, +Thou hell-born fiend, how horrid is thy form! +The Gods sure let thee loose to scourge mankind, +And save them from an endless waste of thunder. + +PHRAATES. + +Yet I've beheld this now so haughty Queen, +Bent with distress, and e'en by pride forsook, +When following thy Sire's triumphant car, +Her tears and ravings mov'd the senseless herd, +And pity blest their more than savage breasts, +With the short pleasure of a moment's softness. +Thy Father, conquer'd by her charms (for what +Can charm like mourning beauty), soon struck off +Her chains, and rais'd her to his bed and throne. +Adorn'd the brows of her aspiring Son, +The fierce Vonones, with the regal crown +Of rich Armenia, once the happy rule +Of Tisaphernes, her deceased Lord. + +GOTARZES. + +And he in wasteful war return'd his thanks, +Refus'd the homage he had sworn to pay, +And spread Destruction ev'ry where around, +'Til from Arsaces' hand he met the fate +His crimes deserv'd. + +PHRAATES. + + As yet your princely Brother +Has scap'd Thermusa's rage, for still residing +In peaceful times, within his Province, ne'er +Has fortune blest her with a sight of him, +On whom she'd wreck her vengeance. + +GOTARZES. + + She has won +By spells, I think, so much on my fond father, +That he is guided by her will alone. +She rules the realm, her pleasure is a law, +All offices and favours are bestow'd, +As she directs. + +PHRAATES. + + But see, the Prince, Vardanes, +Proud Lysias with him, he whose soul is harsh +With jarring discord. Nought but madding rage, +And ruffian-like revenge his breast can know, +Indeed to gain a point he'll condescend +To mask the native rancour of his heart, +And smooth his venom'd tongue with flattery. +Assiduous now he courts Vardanes' friendship, +See, how he seems to answer all his gloom, +And give him frown for frown. + +GOTARZES. + + Let us retire, +And shun them now; I know not what it means, +But chilling horror shivers o'er my limbs, +When Lysias I behold.-- + + +SCENE II. _VARDANES and LYSIAS._ + +LYSIAS. + + That shout proclaims [_Shout._ +Arsaces' near approach. + +VARDANES. + + Peace, prithee, peace, +Wilt thou still shock me with that hated sound, +And grate harsh discord in my offended ear? +If thou art fond of echoing the name, +Join with the servile croud, and hail his triumph. + +LYSIAS. + +I hail him? By our glorious shining God, +I'd sooner lose my speech, and all my days +In silence rest, conversing with my thoughts, +Than hail Arsaces. + +VARDANES. + + Yet, again his name, +Sure there is magic in it, Parthia's drunk +And giddy with the joy; the houses' tops +With gaping spectators are throng'd, nay wild +They climb such precipices that the eye +Is dazzl'd with their daring; ev'ry wretch +Who long has been immur'd, nor dar'd enjoy +The common benefits of sun and air, +Creeps from his lurking place; e'en feeble age, +Long to the sickly couch confin'd, stalks forth, +And with infectious breath assails the Gods. +O! curse the name, the idol of their joy. + +LYSIAS. + +And what's that name, that thus they should disturb +The ambient air, and weary gracious heav'n +With ceaseless bellowings? Vardanes sounds +With equal harmony, and suits as well +The loud repeated shouts of noisy joy. +Can he bid Chaos Nature's rule dissolve, +Can he deprive mankind of light and day, +And turn the Seasons from their destin'd course? +Say, can he do all this, and be a God? +If not, what is his matchless merit? What dares he, +Vardanes dares not? blush not, noble Prince, +For praise is merit's due, and I will give it; +E'en 'mid the croud which waits thy Brother's smile, +I'd loud proclaim the merit of Vardanes. + +VARDANES. + +Forbear this warmth, your friendship urges far. +Yet know your love shall e'er retain a place +In my remembrance. There is something here-- + + [_Pointing to his breast._ + +Another time and I will give thee all; +But now, no more.-- + +LYSIAS. + + You may command my services, +I'm happy to obey. Of late your Brother +Delights in hind'ring my advancement, +And ev'ry boaster's rais'd above my merit, +Barzaphernes alone commands his ear, +His oracle in all. + +VARDANES. + + I hate Arsaces, +Tho' he's my Mother's son, and churchmen say +There's something sacred in the name of Brother. +My soul endures him not, and he's the bane +Of all my hopes of greatness. Like the sun +He rules the day, and like the night's pale Queen, +My fainter beams are lost when he appears. +And this because he came into the world, +A moon or two before me: What's the diff'rence, +That he alone should shine in Empire's seat? +I am not apt to trumpet forth my praise, +Or highly name myself, but this I'll speak, +To him in ought, I'm not the least inferior. +Ambition, glorious fever! mark of Kings, +Gave me immortal thirst and rule of Empire. +Why lag'd my tardy soul, why droop'd the wing, +Nor forward springing, shot before his speed +To seize the prize?--'Twas Empire--Oh! 'twas Empire-- + +LYSIAS. + +Yet, I must think that of superior mould +Your soul was form'd, fit for a heav'nly state, +And left reluctant its sublime abode, +And painfully obey'd the dread command, +When Jove's controuling fate forc'd it below. +His soul was earthly, and it downward mov'd, +Swift as to the center of attraction. + +VARDANES. + +It might be so--But I've another cause +To hate this Brother, ev'ry way my rival; +In love as well as glory he's above me; +I dote on fair Evanthe, but the charmer +Disdains my ardent suit, like a miser +He treasures up her beauties to himself: +Thus is he form'd to give me torture ever.-- +But hark, they've reach'd the Temple, +Didst thou observe the croud, their eagerness, +Each put the next aside to catch a look, +Himself was elbow'd out?--Curse, curse their zeal-- + +LYSIAS. + +Stupid folly! + +VARDANES. + + I'll tell thee, Lysias, +This many-headed monster multitude, +Unsteady is as giddy fortune's wheel, +As woman fickle, varying as the wind; +To-day they this way course, the next they veer, +And shift another point, the next another. + +LYSIAS. + +Curiosity's another name for man, +The blazing meteor streaming thro' the air +Commands our wonder, and admiring eyes, +With eager gaze we trace the lucent path, +'Til spent at length it shrinks to native nothing. +While the bright stars which ever steady glow, +Unheeded shine, and bless the world below. + + +SCENE III. _QUEEN and EDESSA._ + +QUEEN. + +Oh! give me way, the haughty victor comes, +Surrounded by adoring multitudes; +On swelling tides of praise to heav'n they raise him; +To deck their idol, they rob the glorious beings +Of their splendour. + +EDESSA. + + My royal Lady, +Chace hence these passions. + +QUEEN. + + Peace, forever peace, +Have I not cause to hate this homicide? +'Twas by his cursed hand Vonones fell, +Yet fell not as became his gallant spirit, +Not by the warlike arm of chief renown'd, +But by a youth, ye Gods, a beardless stripling, +Stab'd by his dastard falchin from behind; +For well I know he fear'd to meet Vonones, +As princely warriors meet with open daring, +But shrunk amidst his guards, and gave him death, +When faint with wounds, and weary with the fight. + +EDESSA. + +With anguish I have heard his hapless fate, +And mourn'd in silence for the gallant Prince. + +QUEEN. + +Soft is thy nature, but, alas! Edessa, +Thy heart's a stranger to a mother's sorrows, +To see the pride of all her wishes blasted; +Thy fancy cannot paint the storm of grief, +Despair and anguish, which my breast has known. +Oh! show'r, ye Gods, your torments on Arsaces, +Curs'd be the morn which dawn'd upon his birth. + +EDESSA. + +Yet, I intreat-- + +QUEEN. + + Away! for I will curse-- +Oh! may he never know a father's fondness, +Or know it to his sorrow, may his hopes +Of joy be cut like mine, and his short life +Be one continu'd tempest; if he lives, +Let him be curs'd with jealousy and fear, +And vext with anguish of neglecting scorn; +May tort'ring hope present the flowing cup, +Then hasty snatch it from his eager thirst, +And when he dies base treach'ry be the means. + +EDESSA. + +Oh! calm your spirits. + +QUEEN. + + Yes, I'll now be calm, +Calm as the sea when the rude waves are laid, +And nothing but a gentle swell remains; +My curse is heard, and I shall have revenge; +There's something here which tells me 'twill be so, +And peace resumes her empire o'er my breast. +Vardanes is the Minister of Vengeance; +Fir'd by ambition, he aspiring seeks +T'adorn his brows with Parthia's diadem; +I've fann'd the fire, and wrought him up to fury, +Envy shall urge him forward still to dare, +And discord be the prelude to destruction, +Then this detested race shall feel my hate. + +EDESSA. + +And doth thy hatred then extend so far, +That innocent and guilty all alike +Must feel thy dreadful vengeance? + +QUEEN. + +Ah! Edessa, +Thou dost not know e'en half my mighty wrongs, +But in thy bosom I will pour my sorrows. + +EDESSA. + +With secrecy I ever have repaid +Your confidence. + +QUEEN. + + I know thou hast; then hear: +The changeling King who oft has kneel'd before me, +And own'd no other pow'r, now treats me +With ill dissembl'd love mix'd with disdain. +A newer beauty rules his faithless heart, +Which only in variety is blest; +Oft have I heard him, when wrapt up in sleep, +And wanton fancy rais'd the mimic scene, +Call with unusual fondness on Evanthe, +While I have lain neglected by his side, +Except sometimes in a mistaken rapture +He'd clasp me to his bosom. + +EDESSA. + + Oh! Madam, +Let not corroding jealousy usurp +Your Royal breast, unnumber'd ills attend +The wretch who entertains that fatal guest. + +QUEEN. + +Think not that I'll pursue its wand'ring fires, +No more I'll know perplexing doubts and fears, +And erring trace suspicion's endless maze, +For, ah! I doubt no more. + +EDESSA. + + Their shouts approach. + +QUEEN. + +Lead me, Edessa, to some peaceful gloom, +Some silent shade far from the walks of men, +There shall the hop'd revenge my thoughts employ, +And sooth my sorrows with the coming joy. + + +SCENE IV. _EVANTHE and CLEONE._ + +EVANTHE. + +No, I'll not meet him now, for love delights +In the soft pleasures of the secret shade, +And shuns the noise and tumult of the croud. +How tedious are the hours which bring him +To my fond, panting heart! for oh! to those +Who live in expectation of the bliss, +Time slowly creeps, and ev'ry tardy minute +Seems mocking of their wishes. Say, Cleone, +For you beheld the triumph, 'midst his pomp, +Did he not seem to curse the empty show, +The pageant greatness, enemy to love, +Which held him from Evanthe? haste, to tell me, +And feed my gready ear with the fond tale-- +Yet, hold--for I shall weary you with questions, +And ne'er be satisfied--Beware, Cleone, +And guard your heart from Love's delusive sweets. + +CLEONE. + +Is Love an ill, that thus you caution me +To shun his pow'r? + +EVANTHE. + + The Tyrant, my Cleone, +Despotic rules, and fetters all our thoughts. +Oh! wouldst thou love, then bid adieu to peace, +Then fears will come, and jealousies intrude, +Ravage your bosom, and disturb your quiet, +E'en pleasure to excess will be a pain. +Once I was free, then my exulting heart +Was like a bird that hops from spray to spray, +And all was innocence and mirth; but, lo! +The Fowler came, and by his arts decoy'd, +And soon the Wanton cag'd. Twice fifteen times +Has Cynthia dipt her horns in beams of light, +Twice fifteen times has wasted all her brightness, +Since first I knew to love; 'twas on that day +When curs'd Vonones fell upon the plain, +The lovely Victor doubly conquer'd me. + +CLEONE. + +Forgive my boldness, Madam, if I ask +What chance first gave you to Vonones' pow'r? +Curiosity thou know'st is of our sex. + +EVANTHE. + +That is a task will wake me to new sorrows, +Yet thou attend, and I will tell thee all. +Arabia gave me birth, my father held +Great Offices at Court, and was reputed +Brave, wise and loyal, by his Prince belov'd. +Oft has he led his conqu'ring troops, and forc'd +From frowning victory her awful honours. +In infancy I was his only treasure, +On me he wasted all his store of fondness. +Oh! I could tell thee of his wond'rous goodness, +His more than father's love and tenderness. +But thou wouldst jeer, and say the tale was trifling; +So did he dote upon me, for in childhood +My infant charms, and artless innocence +Blest his fond age, and won on ev'ry heart. +But, oh! from this sprung ev'ry future ill, +This fatal beauty was the source of all. + +CLEONE. + +'Tis often so, for beauty is a flow'r +That tempts the hand to pluck it. + +EVANTHE. + + Full three times +Has scorching summer fled from cold winter's +Ruthless blasts, as oft again has spring +In sprightly youth drest nature in her beauties, +Since bathing in Niphates'[5] silver stream, +Attended only by one fav'rite maid; +As we were sporting on the wanton waves, +Swift from the wood a troop of horsemen rush'd, +Rudely they seiz'd, and bore me trembling off, +In vain Edessa with her shrieks assail'd +The heav'ns, for heav'n was deaf to both our pray'rs. +The wretch whose insolent embrace confin'd me +(Like thunder bursting on the guilty soul), +With curs'd Vonones' voice pour'd in my ears +A hateful tale of love; for he it seems +Had seen me at Arabia's royal court, +And took those means to force me to his arms. + +CLEONE. + +Perhaps you may gain something from the Captives +Of your lost Parents. + +EVANTHE. + + This I meant to try, +Soon as the night hides Nature in her darkness, +Veil'd in the gloom we'll steal into their prison. +But, oh! perhaps e'en now my aged Sire +May 'mongst the slain lie welt'ring on the field, +Pierc'd like a riddle through with num'rous wounds, +While parting life is quiv'ring on his lips, +He may perhaps be calling on his Evanthe. +Yes, ye great Pow'rs who boast the name of mercy, +Ye have deny'd me to his latest moments, +To all the offices of filial duty, +To bind his wounds, and wash them with my tears, +Is this, is this your mercy? + +CLEONE. + + Blame not heav'n, +For heav'n is just and kind; dear Lady, drive +These black ideas from your gentle breast; +Fancy delights to torture the distress'd, +And fill the gloomy scene with shadowy ills, +Summon your reason, and you'll soon have comfort. + +EVANTHE. + +Dost thou name comfort to me, my Cleone, +Thou who know'st all my sorrows? plead no more, +'Tis reason tells me I am doubly wretched. + +CLEONE. + +But hark, the music strikes, the rites begin, +And, see, the doors are op'ning. + +EVANTHE. + + Let's retire; +My heart is now too full to meet him here, +Fly swift ye hours, till in his arms I'm prest, +And each intruding care is hush'd to rest. + + +SCENE V. + +_The Scene draws and discovers, in the inner part of the Temple, a + large image of the Sun, with an altar before it. Around Priests and + Attendants._ + +_KING, ARSACES, VARDANES, GOTARZES, PHRAATES, LYSIAS, with BETHAS in +chains._ + +HYMN. + + Parent of Light, to thee belong + Our grateful tributary songs; + Each thankful voice to thee shall rise, + And chearful pierce the azure skies; + While in thy praise all earth combines, + And Echo in the Chorus joins. + + All the gay pride of blooming May, + The Lily fair and blushing Rose, + To thee their early honours pay, + And all their heav'nly sweets disclose. + The feather'd Choir on ev'ry tree + To hail thy glorious dawn repair, + While the sweet sons of harmony + With Hallelujahs fill the air. + + 'Tis thou hast brac'd the Hero's arm, + And giv'n the Love of praise to warm + His bosom, as he onward flies, + And for his Country bravely dies. + Thine's victory, and from thee springs + Ambition's fire, which glows in Kings. + +KING [_coming forward_]. + +Thus, to the Gods our tributary songs, +And now, oh! let me welcome once again +My blooming victor to his Father's arms; +And let me thank thee for our safety: Parthia +Shall thank thee too, and give her grateful praise +To her Deliverer. + +OMNES. + + All hail! Arsaces! + +KING. + +Thanks to my loyal friends. + +VARDANES [_aside_]. + + Curse, curse the sound, +E'en Echo gives it back with int'rest, +The joyful gales swell with the pleasing theme, +And waft it far away to distant hills. +O that my breath was poison, then indeed +I'd hail him like the rest, but blast him too. + +ARSACES. + +My Royal Sire, these honours are unmerited, +Beneath your prosp'rous auspices I fought, +Bright vict'ry to your banners joyful flew, +And favour'd for the Sire the happy son. +But lenity should grace the victor's laurels, +Then, here, my gracious Father-- + +KING. + + Ha! 'tis Bethas! +Know'st thou, vain wretch, what fate attends on those +Who dare oppose the pow'r of mighty Kings, +Whom heav'n delights to favour? sure some God +Who sought to punish you for impious deeds, +'Twas urg'd you forward to insult our arms, +And brave us at our Royal City's gates. + +BETHAS. + +At honour's call, and at my King's command, +Tho' it were even with my single arm, again +I'd brave the multitude, which, like a deluge, +O'erwhelm'd my gallant handful; yea, wou'd meet +Undaunted, all the fury of the torrent. +'Tis honour is the guide of all my actions, +The ruling star by which I steer thro' life, +And shun the shelves of infamy and vice. + +KING. + +It was the thirst of gain which drew you on; +'Tis thus that Av'rice always cloaks its views, +Th' ambition of your Prince you gladly snatch'd +As opportunity to fill your coffers. +It was the plunder of our palaces, +And of our wealthy cities, fill'd your dreams, +And urg'd you on your way; but you have met +The due reward of your audacity. +Now shake your chains, shake and delight your ears +With the soft music of your golden fetters. + +BETHAS. + +True, I am fall'n, but glorious was my fall, +The day was brav'ly fought, we did our best, +But victory's of heav'n. Look o'er yon field, +See if thou findest one Arabian back +Disfigur'd with dishonourable wounds. +No, here, deep on their bosoms, are engrav'd +The marks of honour! 'twas thro' here their souls +Flew to their blissful seats. Oh! why did I +Survive the fatal day? To be this slave, +To be the gaze and sport of vulgar crouds, +Thus, like a shackl'd tyger, stalk my round, +And grimly low'r upon the shouting herd. +Ye Gods!-- + +KING. + + Away with him to instant death. + +ARSACES. + +Hear me, my Lord, O, not on this bright day, +Let not this day of joy blush with his blood. +Nor count his steady loyalty a crime, +But give him life, Arsaces humbly asks it, +And may you e'er be serv'd with honest hearts. + +KING. + +Well, be it so; hence, bear him to his dungeon; +Lysias, we here commit him to thy charge. + +BETHAS. + +Welcome my dungeon, but more welcome death. +Trust not too much, vain Monarch, to your pow'r, +Know fortune places all her choicest gifts +On ticklish heights, they shake with ev'ry breeze, +And oft some rude wind hurls them to the ground. +Jove's thunder strikes the lofty palaces, +While the low cottage, in humility, +Securely stands, and sees the mighty ruin. +What King can boast, to-morrow as to-day, +Thus, happy will I reign? The rising sun +May view him seated on a splendid throne, +And, setting, see him shake the servile chain. + + [_Exit guarded._ + + +SCENE VI. + +KING, ARSACES, VARDANES, GOTARZES, PHRAATES. + +GOTARZES. + +Thus let me hail thee from the croud distinct, +For in the exulting voice of gen'ral joy +My fainter sounds were lost, believe me, Brother, +My soul dilates with joy to see thee thus. + +ARSACES. + +Thus let me thank thee in this fond embrace. + +VARDANES. + +The next will be my turn, Gods, I had rather +Be circl'd in a venom'd serpent's fold. + +GOTARZES. + +O, my lov'd Brother, 'tis my humble boon, +That, when the war next calls you to the field, +I may attend you in the rage of battle. +By imitating thy heroic deeds, +Perhaps, I may rise to some little worth, +Beneath thy care I'll try my feeble wings, +Till taught by thee to soar to nobler heights. + +KING. + +Why, that's my boy, thy spirit speaks thy birth, +No more I'll turn thee from the road to glory, +To rust in slothfulness, with lazy Gownsmen. + +GOTARZES. + +Thanks, to my Sire, I'm now completely blest. + +ARSACES. + +But, I've another Brother, where's Vardanes? + +KING. + +Ha! what, methinks, he lurks behind the croud, +And wears a gloom which suits not with the time. + +VARDANES. + +Doubt not my Love, tho' I lack eloquence, +To dress my sentiments and catch the ear, +Tho' plain my manners, and my language rude, +My honest heart disdains to wear disguise. +Then think not I am slothful in the race, +Or, that my Brother springs before my Love. + +ARSACES. + +Far be suspicion from me. + +VARDANES. + + So, 'tis done, +Thanks to dissembling, all is well again. + +KING. + +Now let us forward, to the Temple go, +And let, with chearful wine, the goblets flow; +Let blink-ey'd Jollity his aid afford, +To crown our triumph, round the festive board: +But, let the wretch, whose soul can know a care, +Far from our joys, to some lone shade repair, +In secrecy, there let him e'er remain, +Brood o'er his gloom, and still increase his pain. + +_End of the First Act._ + + + + +ACT II. + + +SCENE I. _A Prison._ + +LYSIAS [_alone_]. + +The Sun set frowning, and refreshing Eve +Lost all its sweets, obscur'd in double gloom. +This night shall sleep be stranger to these eyes, +Peace dwells not here, and slumber flies the shock; +My spirits, like the elements, are warring, +And mock the tempest with a kindred rage-- +I, who can joy in nothing, but revenge, +Know not those boasted ties of Love and Friendship; +Vardanes I regard, but as he give me +Some hopes of vengeance on the Prince Arsaces-- +But, ha! he comes, wak'd by the angry storm, +'Tis to my wish, thus would I form designs, +Horror should breed beneath the veil of horror, +And darkness aid conspiracies--He's here-- + + +SCENE II. _VARDANES and LYSIAS._ + +LYSIAS. + +Welcome, my noble Prince. + +VARDANES. + + Thanks, gentle friend; +Heav'ns! what a night is this! + +LYSIAS. + + 'Tis fill'd with terror; +Some dread event beneath this horror lurks, +Ordain'd by fate's irrevocable doom; +Perhaps Arsaces' fall--and angry heav'n +Speaks it, in thunder, to the trembling world. + +VARDANES. + +Terror indeed! it seems as sick'ning Nature +Had giv'n her order up to gen'ral ruin; +The Heav'ns appear as one continu'd flame, +Earth with her terror shakes, dim night retires, +And the red lightning gives a dreadful day, +While in the thunder's voice each sound is lost; +Fear sinks the panting heart in ev'ry bosom, +E'en the pale dead, affrighted at the horror, +As tho' unsafe, start from their marble goals, +And howling thro' the streets are seeking shelter. + +LYSIAS. + +I saw a flash stream thro' the angry clouds, +And bend its course to where a stately pine +Behind the garden stood, quickly it seiz'd, +And wrapt it in a fiery fold, the trunk +Was shiver'd into atoms, and the branches +Off were lopt, and wildly scatter'd round. + +VARDANES. + +Why rage the elements, they are not curs'd +Like me? Evanthe frowns not angry on them, +The wind may play upon her beauteous bosom +Nor fear her chiding, light can bless her sense, +And in the floating mirror she beholds +Those beauties which can fetter all mankind. +Earth gives her joy, she plucks the fragrant rose, +Pleas'd takes its sweets, and gazes on its bloom. + +LYSIAS. + +My Lord, forget her, tear her from your breast. +Who, like the Phoenix gazes on the sun, +And strives to soar up to the glorious blaze, +Should never leave Ambition's brightest object, +To turn, and view the beauties of a flow'r. + +VARDANES. + +O, Lysias, chide no more, for I have done. +Yes, I'll forget this proud disdainful beauty; +Hence, with vain love--Ambition, now, alone, +Shall guide my actions, since mankind delights +To give me pain, I'll study mischief too, +And shake the earth, e'en like this raging tempest. + +LYSIAS. + +A night like this, so dreadful to behold, +Since my remembrance's birth, I never saw. + +VARDANES. + +E'en such a night, dreadful as this, they say, +My teeming Mother gave me to the world. +Whence by those sages who, in knowledge rich, +Can pry into futurity, and tell +What distant ages will produce of wonder, +My days were deem'd to be a hurricane; +My early life prov'd their prediction false; +Beneath a sky serene my voyage began, +But, to this long uninterrupted calm, +Storms shall succeed. + +LYSIAS. + + Then haste, to raise the tempest; +My soul disdains this one eternal round, +Where each succeeding day is like the former. +Trust me, my noble Prince, here is a heart +Steady and firm to all your purposes, +And here's a hand that knows to execute +Whate'er designs thy daring breast can form, +Nor ever shake with fear. + +VARDANES. + + And I will use it, +Come to my bosom, let me place thee here, +How happy am I clasping so much virtue! +Now, by the light, it is my firm belief, +One mighty soul in common swells our bosoms, +Such sameness can't be match'd in diff'rent beings. + +LYSIAS. + +Your confidence, my Lord, much honours me, +And when I act unworthy of your love +May I be hooted from Society, +As tho' disgraceful to the human kind, +And driv'n to herd among the savage race. + +VARDANES. + +Believe me, Lysias, I do not know +A single thought which tends toward suspicion, +For well I know thy worth, when I affront it, +By the least doubt, may I be ever curs'd +With faithless friends, and by his dagger fall +Whom my deluded wishes most would favour. + +LYSIAS. + +Then let's no longer trifle time away, +I'm all impatience till I see thy brows +Bright in the glories of a diadem; +My soul is fill'd with anguish when I think +That by weak Princes worn, 'tis thus disgrac'd. +Haste, mount the throne, and, like the morning Sun, +Chace with your piercing beams those mists away, +Which dim the glory of the Parthian state: +Each honest heart desires it, numbers there are +Ready to join you, and support your cause, +Against th' opposing faction. + +VARDANES. + + Sure some God, +Bid you thus call me to my dawning honours, +And joyful I obey the pleasing summons. +Now by the pow'rs of heav'n, of earth and hell, +Most solemnly I swear, I will not know +That quietude which I was wont to know, +'Til I have climb'd the height of all my wishes, +Or fell, from glory, to the silent grave. + +LYSIAS. + +Nobly resolv'd, and spoken like Vardanes, +There shone my Prince in his superior lustre. + +VARDANES. + +But, then, Arsaces, he's a fatal bar-- +O! could I brush this busy insect from me, +Which envious strives to rob me of my bloom, +Then might I, like some fragrant op'ning flow'r, +Spread all my beauties in the face of day. +Ye Gods! why did ye give me such a soul +(A soul, which ev'ry way is form'd for Empire), +And damn me with a younger Brother's right? +The diadem would set as well on mine, +As on the brows of any lordly He; +Nor is this hand weak to enforce command. +And shall I steal into my grave, and give +My name up to oblivion, to be thrown +Among the common rubbish of the times? +No: Perish first, this happy hated Brother. + +LYSIAS. + +I always wear a dagger, for your service, +I need not speak the rest-- +When humbly I intreated of your Brother +T' attend him as Lieutenant in this war, +Frowning contempt, he haughtily reply'd, +He entertain'd not Traitors in his service. +True, I betray'd Orodes, but with cause, +He struck me, like a sorry abject slave, +And still withheld from giving what he'd promis'd. +Fear not Arsaces, believe me, he shall +Soon his Quietus have--But, see, he comes,-- +What can this mean? Why at this lonely hour, +And unattended?--Ha! 'tis opportune-- +I'll in, and stab him now. I heed not what +The danger is, so I but have revenge, +Then heap perdition on me. + +VARDANES. + + Hold, awhile-- +'Twould be better could we undermine him, +And make him fall by Artabanus' doom. + +LYSIAS. + +Well, be it so-- + +VARDANES. + + But let us now retire, +We must not be observ'd together here. + + +SCENE III. + +ARSACES [_alone_]. + +'Tis here that hapless Bethas is confin'd; +He who, but yesterday, like angry Jove, +When punishing the crimes of guilty men, +Spread death and desolation all around, +While Parthia trembl'd at his name; is now +Unfriended and forlorn, and counts the hours, +Wrapt in the gloomy horrors of a goal.-- +How dark, and hidden, are the turns of fate! +His rigid fortune moves me to compassion. +O! 'tis a heav'nly virtue when the heart +Can feel the sorrows of another's bosom, +It dignifies the man: The stupid wretch +Who knows not this sensation, is an image, +And wants the feeling to make up a life-- +I'll in, and give my aid to sooth his sorrows. + + +SCENE IV. + +_VARDANES and LYSIAS._ + +LYSIAS. + +Let us observe with care, something we, yet, +May gather, to give to us the vantage; +No matter what's the intent. + +VARDANES. + + How easy 'tis +To cheat this busy, tattling, censuring world! +For fame still names our actions, good or bad, +As introduc'd by chance, which ofttimes throws +Wrong lights on objects; vice she dresses up-- +In the bright form, and goodliness, of virtue, +While virtue languishes, and pines neglected, +Rob'd of her lustre--But, let's forward, Lysias-- +Thou know'st each turn in this thy dreary rule, +Then lead me to some secret stand, from whence, +Unnotic'd, all their actions we may view. + +LYSIAS. + +Here, take your stand behind--See, Bethas comes. + + [_They retire._ + + +SCENE V. + +BETHAS [_alone_]. + +To think on Death in gloomy solitude, +In dungeons and in chains, when expectation +Join'd with serious thought describe him to us, +His height'n'd terrors strike upon the soul +With awful dread; imagination rais'd +To frenzy, plunges in a sea of horror, +And tastes the pains, the agonies of dying-- +Ha! who is this, perhaps he bears my fate? +It must be so, but, why this privacy? + + +SCENE VI. + +_ARSACES and BETHAS._ + +ARSACES. + +Health to the noble Bethas, health and joy! + +BETHAS. + +A steady harden'd villain, one experienc'd +In his employment; ha! where's thy dagger? +It cannot give me fear; I'm ready, see, +My op'ning bosom tempts the friendly steel. +Fain would I cast this tiresome being off, +Like an old garment worn to wretchedness. +Here, strike for I'm prepar'd. + +ARSACES. + + Oh! view me better, +Say, do I wear the gloomy ruffian's frown? + +BETHAS. + +Ha! 'tis the gallant Prince, the brave Arsaces, +And Bethas' Conqueror. + +ARSACES. + + And Bethas' friend, +A name I'm proud to wear. + +BETHAS. + + Away--away-- +Mock with your jester to divert the court, +Fit Scene for sportive joys and frolic mirth; +Think'st thou I lack that manly constancy +Which braves misfortune, and remains unshaken? +Are these, are these the emblems of thy friendship, +These rankling chains, say, does it gall like these? +No, let me taste the bitterness of sorrow, +For I am reconcil'd to wretchedness. +The Gods have empty'd all their mighty store, +Of hoarded Ills, upon my whiten'd age; +Now death--but, oh! I court coy death in vain, +Like a cold maid, he scorns my fond complaining. +'Tis thou, insulting Prince, 'tis thou hast dragg'd +My soul, just rising, down again to earth, +And clogg'd her wings with dull mortality, +A hateful bondage! Why-- + +ARSACES. + + A moment hear me-- + +BETHAS. + +Why dost thou, like an angry vengeful ghost, +Glide hither to disturb this peaceful gloom? +What, dost thou envy me my miseries, +My chains and flinty pavement, where I oft +In sleep behold the image of the death I wish, +Forget my sorrows and heart-breaking anguish? +These horrors I would undisturb'd enjoy, +Attended only by my silent thoughts; +Is it to see the wretch that you have made; +To view the ruins of unhappy Bethas, +And triumph in my grief? Is it for this +You penetrate my dark joyless prison? + +ARSACES. + +Oh! do not injure me by such suspicions. +Unknown to me are cruel scoffs and jests; +My breast can feel compassion's tenderness, +The warrior's warmth, the soothing joys of friendship. +When adverse bold battalions shook the earth, +And horror triumph'd on the hostile field, +I sought you with a glorious enmity, +And arm'd my brow with the stern frown of war. +But now the angry trumpet wakes no more +The youthful champion to the lust for blood. +Retiring rage gives place to softer passions, +And gen'rous warriors know no longer hate, +The name of foe is lost, and thus I ask +Your friendship. + +BETHAS. + + Ah! why dost thou mock me thus? + +ARSACES. + +Let the base coward, he who ever shrinks, +And trembles, at the slight name of danger, +Taunt, and revile, with bitter gibes, the wretched; +The brave are ever to distress a friend. +Tho' my dear country (spoil'd by wasteful war, +Her harvests blazing, desolate her towns, +And baleful ruin shew'd her haggard face) +Call'd out on me to save her from her foes, +And I obey'd, yet to your gallant prowess, +And unmatch'd deeds, I admiration gave. +But now my country knows the sweets of safety, +Freed from her fears; sure now I may indulge +My just esteem for your superior virtue. + +BETHAS. + +Yes, I must think you what you would be thought, +For honest minds are easy of belief, +And always judge of others by themselves, +But often are deceiv'd; yet Parthia breeds not +Virtue much like thine, the barb'rous clime teems +With nought else but villains vers'd in ill. + +ARSACES. + +Dissimulation never mark'd my looks, +Nor flatt'ring deceit e'er taught my tongue, +The tale of falsehood, to disguise my thoughts: +To Virtue, and her fair companion, Truth, +I've ever bow'd, their holy precepts kept, +And scann'd by them the actions of my life. +Suspicion surely ne'er disturbs the brave, +They never know the fears of doubting thoughts; +But free, as are the altars of the Gods, +From ev'ry hand receive the sacrifice. + + +SCENE VII. + +_ARSACES, BETHAS, EVANTHE and CLEONE._ + +EVANTHE. + +Heav'ns! what a gloom hangs round this dreadful place, +Fit habitation for the guilty mind! +Oh! if such terrors wait the innocent, +Which tread these vaults, what must the impious feel, +Who've all their crimes to stare them in the face? + +BETHAS. + +Immortal Gods! is this reality? +Or mere illusion? am I blest at last, +Or is it to torment me that you've rais'd +This semblance of Evanthe to my eyes? +It is! it is! 'tis she!-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha!--what means this?-- +She faints! she faints! life has forsook its seat, +Pale Death usurps its place--Evanthe, Oh! +Awake to life!--Love and Arsaces call!-- + +BETHAS. + +Off--give her to my arms, my warm embrace +Shall melt Death's icy chains. + +CLEONE. + + She lives! she lives!-- +See, on her cheeks the rosy glow returns. + +ARSACES. + +O joy! O joy! her op'ning eyes, again, +Break, like the morning sun, a better day. + +BETHAS. + +Evanthe!-- + +EVANTHE. + + Oh! my Father!-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha!--her Father! + +BETHAS. + +Heav'n thou art kind at last, and this indeed +Is recompense for all the ills I've past; +For all the sorrows which my heart has known, +Each wakeful night, and ev'ry day of anguish. +This, this has sweet'n'd all my bitter cup, +And gave me once again to taste of joy, +Joy which has long been stranger to this bosom. +Hence--hence disgrace--off, ignominy off-- +But one embrace--I ask but one embrace, +And 'tis deny'd. + +EVANTHE. + + Oh, yes, around thy neck +I'll fold my longing arms, thy softer fetters, +Thus press thee to my happy breast, and kiss +Away those tears that stain thy aged cheeks. + +BETHAS. + +Oh! 'tis too much! it is too much! ye Gods! +Life's at her utmost stretch, and bursting near +With heart-swoln ecstasy; now let me die. + +ARSACES. + + What marble heart +Could see this scene unmov'd, nor give a tear? +My eyes grow dim, and sympathetic passion +Falls like a gushing torrent on my bosom. + +EVANTHE. + +O! happy me, this place, which lately seem'd +So fill'd with horror, now is pleasure's circle. +Here will I fix my seat; my pleasing task +Shall be to cherish thy remaining life. +All night I'll keep a vigil o'er thy slumbers, +And on my breast repose thee, mark thy dreams, +And when thou wak'st invent some pleasing tale, +Or with my songs the tedious hours beguile. + +BETHAS. + +Still let me gaze, still let me gaze upon thee, +Let me strain ev'ry nerve with ravishment, +And all my life be center'd in my vision. +To see thee thus, to hear thy angel voice, +It is, indeed, a luxury of pleasure!-- +Speak, speak again, for oh! 'tis heav'n to hear thee! +Celestial sweetness dwells on ev'ry accent;-- +Lull me to rest, and sooth my raging joy. +Joy which distracts me with unruly transports. +Now, by thy dear departed Mother's shade, +Thou brightest pattern of all excellence, +Thou who in prattling infancy hast blest me, +I wou'd not give this one transporting moment, +This fullness of delight, for all--but, ah! +'Tis vile, Ambition, Glory, all is vile, +To the soft sweets of love and tenderness. + +EVANTHE. + +Now let me speak, my throbbing heart is full, +I'll tell thee all--alas! I have forgot-- +'T 'as slipt me in the tumult of my joy. +And yet I thought that I had much to say. + +BETHAS. + +Oh! I have curs'd my birth, indeed, I have +Blasphem'd the Gods, with unbecoming passion, +Arraign'd their Justice, and defy'd their pow'r, +In bitterness, because they had deny'd +Thee to support the weakness of my age. +But now no more I'll rail and rave at fate, +All its decrees are just, complaints are impious, +Whate'er short-sighted mortals feel, springs from +Their blindness in the ways of Providence; +Sufficient wisdom 'tis for man to know +That the great Ruler is e'er wise and good. + +ARSACES. + +Ye figur'd stones! +Ye senseless, lifeless images of men, +Who never gave a tear to others' woe, +Whose bosoms never glow'd for others' good, +O weary heav'n with your repeated pray'rs, +And strive to melt the angry pow'rs to pity, +That ye may truly live. + +EVANTHE. + + Oh! how my heart +Beats in my breast, and shakes my trembling frame! +I sink beneath this sudden flood of joy, +Too mighty for my spirits. + +ARSACES. + + My Evanthe, +Thus in my arms I catch thy falling beauties, +Chear thee; and kiss thee back to life again: +Thus to my bosom I could ever hold thee, +And find new pleasure. + +EVANTHE. + + O! my lov'd Arsaces, +Forgive me that I saw thee not before, +Indeed my soul was busily employ'd, +Nor left a single thought at liberty. +But thou, I know, art gentleness and love. +Now I am doubly paid for all my sorrows, +For all my fears for thee. + +ARSACES. + + Then, fear no more: +Give to guilty wretches painful terrors: +Whose keen remembrance raises horrid forms, +Shapes that in spite of nature shock their souls +With dreadful anguish: but thy gentle bosom, +Where innocence beams light and gayety, +Can never know a fear, now shining joy +Shall gild the pleasing scene. + +EVANTHE. + + Alas! this joy +I fear is like a sudden flame shot from +Th' expiring taper, darkness will ensue, +And double night I dread enclose us round. +Anxiety does yet disturb my breast, +And frightful apprehension shakes my soul. + +BETHAS. + +How shall I thank you, ye bright glorious beings! +Shall I in humble adoration bow, +Or fill the earth with your resounding praise? +No, this I leave to noisy hypocrites, +A Mortal's tongue disgraces such a theme; +But heav'n delights where silent gratitude +Mounts each aspiring thought to its bright throne, +Nor leaves to language aught; words may indeed +From man to man their sev'ral wants express, +Heav'n asks the purer incense of the heart. + +ARSACES. + +I'll to the King, ere he retires to rest, +Nor will I leave him 'til I've gain'd your freedom; +His love will surely not deny me this. + + +SCENE VIII. + +_VARDANES and LYSIAS come forward._ + +LYSIAS. + +'Twas a moving scene, e'en my rough nature +Was nighly melted. + +VARDANES. + + Hence coward pity-- +What is joy to them, to me is torture. +Now am I rack'd with pains that far exceed +Those agonies, which fabling Priests relate, +The damn'd endure: The shock of hopeless Love, +Unblest with any views to sooth ambition, +Rob me of all my reas'ning faculties. +Arsaces gains Evanthe, fills the throne, +While I am doom'd to foul obscurity, +To pine and grieve neglected. + +LYSIAS. + + My noble Prince, +Would it not be a master-piece, indeed, +To make this very bliss their greatest ill, +And damn them in the very folds of joy? + +VARDANES. + +This I will try, and stretch my utmost art, +Unknown is yet the means--We'll think on that-- +Success may follow if you'll lend your aid. + +LYSIAS. + +The storm still rages--I must to the King, +And know what further orders ere he sleeps: +Soon I'll return, and speak my mind more fully. + +VARDANES. + +Haste, Lysias, haste, to aid me with thy council; +For without thee, all my designs will prove +Like night and chaos, darkness and confusion; +But to thy word shall light and order spring.-- +Let coward Schoolmen talk of Virtue's rules, +And preach the vain Philosophy of fools; +Court eager their obscurity, afraid +To taste a joy, and in some gloomy shade +Dream o'er their lives, while in a mournful strain +They sing of happiness they never gain. +But form'd for nobler purposes I come, +To gain a crown, or else a glorious tomb. + +_End of the Second Act._ + + + + +ACT III. + + +SCENE I. _The Palace._ + +_QUEEN and EDESSA._ + +QUEEN. + +Talk not of sleep to me, the God of Rest +Disdains to visit where disorder reigns; +Not beds of down, nor music's softest strains, +Can charm him when 'tis anarchy within. +He flies with eager haste the mind disturb'd, +And sheds his blessings where the soul's in peace. + +EDESSA. + +Yet, hear me, Madam! + +QUEEN. + + Hence, away, Edessa, +For thou know'st not the pangs of jealousy. +Say, has he not forsook my bed, and left me +Like a lone widow mourning to the night? +This, with the injury his son has done me, +If I forgive, may heav'n in anger show'r +Its torments on me--Ha! isn't that the King! + +EDESSA. + +It is your Royal Lord, great Artabanus. + +QUEEN. + +Leave me, for I would meet him here alone, +Something is lab'ring in my breast-- + + +SCENE II. + +_KING and QUEEN._ + +KING. + + This leads +To fair Evanthe's chamber--Ha! the Queen. + +QUEEN. + +Why dost thou start? so starts the guilty wretch, +When, by some watchful eye, prevented from +His dark designs. + +KING. + + Prevented! how, what mean'st thou? + +QUEEN. + +Art thou then so dull? cannot thy heart, +Thy changeling heart, explain my meaning to thee, +Or must upbraiding 'wake thy apprehension? +Ah! faithless, tell me, have I lost those charms +Which thou so oft hast sworn could warm old age, +And tempt the frozen hermit from his cell, +To visit once again our gayer world? +This, thou hast sworn, perfidious as thou art, +A thousand times; as often hast thou sworn +Eternal constancy, and endless love, +Yet ev'ry time was perjur'd. + +KING. + + Sure, 'tis frenzy. + +QUEEN. + +Indeed, 'tis frenzy, 'tis the height of madness, +For I have wander'd long in sweet delusion. +At length the pleasing Phantom chang'd its form, +And left me in a wilderness of woe. + +KING. + +Prithee, no more, dismiss those jealous heats; +Love must decay, and soon disgust arise, +Where endless jarrings and upbraidings damp +The gentle flame, which warms the lover's breast. + +QUEEN. + +Oh! grant me patience heav'n! and dost thou think +By these reproaches to disguise thy guilt? +No, 'tis in vain, thy art's too thin to hide it. + +KING. + +Curse on the marriage chain!--the clog, a wife, +Who still will force and pall us with the joy, +Tho' pow'r is wanting, and the will is cloy'd, +Still urge the debt when Nothing's left to pay. + +QUEEN. + +Ha! dost thou own thy crime, nor feel the glow +Of conscious shame? + +KING. + + Why should I blush, if heav'n +Has made me as I am, and gave me passions? +Blest only in variety, then blame +The Gods, who form'd my nature thus, not me. + +QUEEN. + +Oh! Traitor! Villain! + +KING. + + Hence--away-- +No more I'll wage a woman's war with words. [_Exit._ + +QUEEN. + +Down, down ye rising passions, give me ease, +Or break my heart, for I must yet be calm-- +But, yet, revenge, our Sex's joy, is mine; +By all the Gods! he lives not till the morn. +Who slights my love, shall sink beneath my hate. + + +SCENE III. + +_QUEEN and VARDANES._ + +VARDANES. + +What, raging to the tempest? + +QUEEN. + + Away!--away!-- +Yes, I will rage--a tempest's here within, +Above the trifling of the noisy elements. +Blow ye loud winds, burst with your violence, +For ye but barely imitate the storm +That wildly rages in my tortur'd breast-- +The King--the King-- + +VARDANES. + + Ha! what?--the King? + +QUEEN. + + Evanthe! + +VARDANES. + +You talk like riddles, still obscure and short, +Give me some cue to guide me thro' this maze. + +QUEEN. + +Ye pitying pow'rs!--oh! for a poison, some +Curs'd deadly draught, that I might blast her beauties, +And rob her eyes of all their fatal lustre. + +VARDANES. + +What, blast her charms?--dare not to think of it-- +Shocking impiety;--the num'rous systems +Which gay creation spreads, bright blazing suns, +With all th' attendant planets circling round, +Are not worth half the radiance of her eyes. +She's heav'n's peculiar care, good spir'ts hover +Round, a shining band, to guard her beauties. + +QUEEN. + +Be they watchful then: for should remissness +Taint the guard, I'll snatch the opportunity, +And hurl her to destruction. + +VARDANES. + + Dread Thermusa, +Say, what has rous'd this tumult in thy soul? +What dost thou rage with unabating fury, +Wild as the winds, loud as the troubl'd sea? + +QUEEN. + +Yes, I will tell thee--Evanthe--curse her-- +With charms--Would that my curses had the pow'r +To kill, destroy, and blast where e'er I hate, +Then would I curse, still curse, till death should seize +The dying accents on my falt'ring tongue. +So should this world, and the false changeling man +Be buried in one universal ruin. + +VARDANES. + +Still err'st thou from the purpose. + +QUEEN. + + Ha! 'tis so-- +Yes I will tell thee--for I know fond fool, +Deluded wretch, thou dotest on Evanthe-- +Be that thy greatest curse, be curs'd like me, +With jealousy and rage, for know, the King, +Thy father, is thy rival. + + +SCENE IV. + +VARDANES [_alone_]. + + Ha! my rival! +How knew she that?--yet stay--she's gone--my rival, +What then? he is Arsaces' rival too. +Ha!--this may aid and ripen my designs-- +Could I but fire the King with jealousy, +And then accuse my Brother of Intrigues +Against the state--ha!--join'd with Bethas, and +Confed'rate with th' Arabians--'tis most likely +That jealousy would urge him to belief. +I'll sink my claim until some fitter time, +'Til opportunity smiles on my purpose. +Lysias already has receiv'd the mandate +For Bethas' freedom: Let them still proceed, +This harmony shall change to discord soon. +Fortune methinks of late grows wond'rous kind, +She scarcely leaves me to employ myself. + + +SCENE V. + +KING, ARSACES, VARDANES. + +KING. + +But where's Evanthe? Where's the lovely Maid? + +ARSACES. + +On the cold pavement, by her aged Sire, +The dear companion of his solitude, +She sits, nor can persuasion make her rise; +But in the wild extravagance of joy +She weeps, then smiles, like April's sun, thro' show'rs. +While with strain'd eyes he gazes on her face, +And cries, in ecstacy, "Ye gracious pow'rs! +It is too much, it is too much to bear!" +Then clasps her to his breast, while down his cheeks +Large drops each other trace, and mix with hers. + +KING. + +Thy tale is moving, for my eyes o'erflow-- +How slow does Lysias with Evanthe creep! +So moves old time when bringing us to bliss. +Now war shall cease, no more of war I'll have, +Death knows satiety, and pale destruction +Turns loathing from his food, thus forc'd on him. +The triffling dust, the cause of all this ruin, +The trade of death shall urge no more.-- + + +SCENE VI. + +KING, ARSACES, VARDANES, EVANTHE, LYSIAS. + +KING. + + Evanthe!-- +See pleasure's goddess deigns to dignify +The happy scene, and make our bliss complete. +So Venus, from her heav'nly seat, descends +To bless the gay Cythera with her presence; +A thousand smiling graces wait the goddess, +A thousand little loves are flutt'ring round, +And joy is mingl'd with the beauteous train. + +EVANTHE. + +O! Royal Sir, thus lowly to the ground +I bend, in humble gratitude, accept +My thanks, for this thy goodness, words are vile +T' express the image of my lively thought, +And speak the grateful fulness of my heart. +All I can say, is that I now am happy, +And that thy giving hand has made me blest. + +KING. + +O! rise, Evanthe rise, this lowly posture +Suits not with charms like thine, they should command, +And ev'ry heart exult in thy behests;-- +But, where's thy aged Sire? + +EVANTHE. + + This sudden turn +Of fortune has so wrought upon his frame, +His limbs could not support him to thy presence. + +ARSACES. + +This, this is truly great, this is the Hero, +Like heav'n, to scatter blessings 'mong mankind +And e'er delight in making others happy. +Cold is the praise which waits the victor's triumph +(Who thro' a sea of blood has rush'd to glory), +To the o'erflowings of a grateful heart, +By obligations conquer'd: Yet, extend +Thy bounty unto me. [_Kneels._ + +KING. + + Ha! rise Arsaces. + +ARSACES. + +Not till you grant my boon. + +KING. + + Speak, and 'tis thine-- +Wide thro' our kingdom let thy eager wishes +Search for some jewel worthy of thy seeing; +Something that's fit to show the donor's bounty, +And by the glorious sun, our worship'd God, +Thou shalt not have denial; e'en my crown +Shall gild thy brows with shining beams of Empire. +With pleasure I'll resign to thee my honours, +I long for calm retirement's softer joys. + +ARSACES. + +Long may you wear it, grant it bounteous heav'n, +And happiness attend it; 'tis my pray'r +That daily rises with the early sweets +Of nature's incense, and the lark's loud strain. +'Tis not the unruly transport of ambition +That urges my desires to ask your crown; +Let the vain wretch, who prides in gay dominion, +Who thinks not of the great ones' weighty cares, +Enjoy his lofty wish, wide spreading rule. +The treasure which I ask, put in the scale, +Would over-balance all that Kings can boast, +Empire and diadems. + +KING. + + Away, that thought-- +Name it, haste--speak. + +ARSACES. + + For all the dang'rous toil, +Thirst, hunger, marches long that I've endur'd, +For all the blood I've in thy service spent, +Reward me with Evanthe. + +KING. + + Ha! what said'st thou?-- + +VARDANES. + +The King is mov'd, and angry bites his lip.-- +Thro' my benighted soul all-cheering hope [_Aside._ +Beams, like an orient sun, reviving joy. + +ARSACES. + +The stern Vonones ne'er could boast a merit +But loving her. + +KING. + + Ah! curse the hated name-- +Yes, I remember when the fell ruffian +Directed all his fury at my life; +Then sent, by pitying heav'n, t' assert the right +Of injur'd Majesty, thou, Arsaces, +Taught him the duty he ne'er knew before, +And laid the Traitor dead. + +ARSACES. + + My Royal Sire! + +LYSIAS. + +My Liege, the Prince still kneels. + +KING. + + Ha!--rebel, off-- [_Strikes him._ +What, Lysias, did I strike thee? forgive my rage-- +The name of curs'd Vonones fires my blood, +And gives me up to wrath.-- + +LYSIAS. + + I am your slave, +Sway'd by your pleasure--when I forget it, +May this keen dagger, which I mean to hide +Deep in his bosom, pierce my vitals thro'. [_Aside._ + +KING. + +Didst thou not name Evanthe? + +ARSACES. + + I did, my Lord! +And, say, whom should I name but her, in whom +My soul has center'd all her happiness? +Nor canst thou blame me, view her wond'rous charms, +She's all perfection; bounteous heav'n has form'd her +To be the joy, and wonder of mankind; +But language is too vile to speak her beauties. +Here ev'ry pow'r of glowing fancy's lost: +Rose blush secure, ye lilies still enjoy +Your silver whiteness, I'll not rob your charms +To deck the bright comparison; for here +It sure must fail. + +KING. + + He's wanton in her praise-- [_Aside._ +I tell thee, Prince, hadst thou as many tongues, +As days have wasted since creation's birth, +They were too few to tell the mighty theme. + +EVANTHE. + +I'm lost! I'm lost! [_Aside._ + +ARSACES. + + Then I'll be dumb for ever. + +KING. + +O rash and fatal oath! is there no way, +No winding path to shun this precipice, +But must I fall and dash my hopes to atoms? +In vain I strive, thought but perplexes me, +Yet shews no hold to bear me up--now, hold +My heart a while--she's thine--'tis done. + +ARSACES. + + In deep +Prostration, I thank my Royal Father. + +KING. + +A sudden pain shoots thro' my trembling breast-- +Lend me thy arm Vardanes--cruel pow'rs! + + +SCENE VII. + +_ARSACES and EVANTHE._ + +EVANTHE [_after a pause_]. + +E'er since the dawn of my unhappy life +Joy never shone serenely on my soul; +Still something interven'd to cloud my day. +Tell me, ye pow'rs, unfold the hidden crime +For which I'm doom'd to this eternal woe, +Thus still to number o'er my hours with tears? +The Gods are just I know, nor are decrees +In hurry shuffl'd out, but where the bolt +Takes its direction justice points the mark. +Yet still in vain I search within my breast, +I find no sins are there to shudder at-- +Nought but the common frailties of our natures. +Arsaces,--Oh!-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha! why that look of anguish? +Why didst thou name me with that sound of sorrow? +Ah! say, why stream those gushing tears so fast +From their bright fountain? sparkling joy should now +Be lighten'd in thine eye, and pleasure glow +Upon thy rosy cheek;--ye sorrows hence-- +'Tis love shall triumph now. + +EVANTHE. + + Oh! [_Sighs._ + +ARSACES. + + What means that sigh? +Tell me why heaves thy breast with such emotion? +Some dreadful thought is lab'ring for a vent, +Haste, give it loose, ere strengthen'd by confinement +It wrecks thy frame, and tears its snowy prison. +Is sorrow then so pleasing that you hoard it +With as much love, as misers do their gold? +Give me my share of sorrows. + +EVANTHE. + + Ah! too soon +You'll know what I would hide. + +ARSACES. + + Be it from thee-- +The dreadful tale, when told by thee, shall please; +Haste, to produce it with its native terrors, +My steady soul shall still remain unshaken; +For who when bless'd with beauties like to thine +Would e'er permit a sorrow to intrude? +Far hence in darksome shades does sorrow dwell, +Where hapless wretches thro' the awful gloom, +Echo their woes, and sighing to the winds, +Augment with tears the gently murm'ring stream; +But ne'er disturbs such happiness as mine. + +EVANTHE. + +Oh! 'tis not all thy boasted happiness, +Can save thee from disquietude and care; +Then build not too securely on these joys, +For envious sorrow soon will undermine, +And let the goodly structure fall to ruin. + +ARSACES. + +I charge thee, by our mutual vows, Evanthe, +Tell me, nor longer keep me in suspense: +Give me to know the utmost rage of fate. + +EVANTHE. + +Then know--impossible!-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha! dost thou fear +To shock me?-- + +EVANTHE. + + Know, thy Father--loves Evanthe.-- + +ARSACES. + +Loves thee? + +EVANTHE. + + Yea, e'en to distraction loves me. +Oft at my feet he's told the moving tale, +And woo'd me with the ardency of youth. +I pitied him indeed, but that was all, +Thou would'st have pitied too. + +ARSACES. + + I fear 'tis true; +A thousand crouding circumstances speak it. +Ye cruel Gods! I've wreck'd a Father's peace, +Oh! bitter thought! + +EVANTHE. + + Didst thou observe, Arsaces, +How reluctant he gave me to thy arms? + +ARSACES. + +Yes, I observ'd that when he gave thee up, +It seem'd as tho' he gave his precious life. +And who'd forego the heav'n of thy love? +To rest on thy soft swelling breast, and in +Sweet slumbers sooth each sharp intruding care? +Oh! it were bliss, such as immortals taste, +To press thy ruby lips distilling sweets, +Or circl'd in thy snowy arms to snatch +A joy, that Gods---- + +EVANTHE. + + Come, then, my much-lov'd Prince, +Let's seek the shelter of some kind retreat. +Happy Arabia opens wide her arms, +There may we find some friendly solitude, +Far from the noise and hurry of the Court. +Ambitious views shall never blast our joys, +Or tyrant Fathers triumph o'er our wills: +There may we live like the first happy pair +Cloth'd in primeval innocence secure. +Our food untainted by luxurious arts, +Plain, simple, as our lives, shall not destroy +The health it should sustain; while the clear brook +Affords the cooling draught our thirsts to quench. +There, hand in hand, we'll trace the citron grove, +While with the songsters' round I join my voice, +To hush thy cares and calm thy ruffl'd soul: +Or, on some flow'ry bank reclin'd, my strains +Shall captivate the natives of the stream, +While on its crystal lap ourselves we view. + +ARSACES. + +I see before us a wide sea of sorrows, +Th' angry waves roll forward to o'erwhelm us, +Black clouds arise, and the wind whistles loud. +But yet, oh! could I save thee from the wreck, +Thou beauteous casket, where my joys are stor'd, +Let the storm rage with double violence, +Smiling I'd view its wide extended horrors. + +EVANTHE. + +'Tis not enough that we do know the ill, +Say, shall we calmly see the tempest rise, +And seek no shelter from th' inclement sky, +But bid it rage?-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha! will he force thee from me? +What, tear thee from my fond and bleeding heart? +And must I lose thee ever? dreadful word! +Never to gaze upon thy beauties more? +Never to taste the sweetness of thy lips? +Never to know the joys of mutual love? +Never!--Oh! let me lose the pow'r of thinking, +For thought is near allied to desperation. +Why, cruel Sire--why did you give me life, +And load it with a weight of wretchedness? +Take back my being, or relieve my sorrows-- +Ha! art thou not Evanthe?--Art thou not +The lovely Maid, who bless'd the fond Arsaces?-- [_Raving._ + +EVANTHE. + +O, my lov'd Lord, recall your scatter'd spir'ts, +Alas! I fear your senses are unsettl'd. + +ARSACES. + +Yes, I would leave this dull and heavy sense. +Let me grow mad; perhaps, I then may gain +Some joy, by kind imagination form'd, +Beyond reality.--O! my Evanthe! +Why was I curs'd with empire? born to rule?-- +Would I had been some humble Peasant's son, +And thou some Shepherd's daughter on the plain; +My throne some hillock, and my flock my subjects, +My crook my sceptre, and my faithful dog +My only guard; nor curs'd with dreams of greatness. +At early dawn I'd hail the coming day, +And join the lark the rival of his lay; +At sultry noon to some kind shade repair, +Thus joyful pass the hours, my only care, +To guard my flock, and please the yielding Fair. + + +SCENE VIII. + +_KING.--VARDANES behind the Scene._ + +KING. + +I will not think, to think is torment--Ha! +See, how they twine! ye furies cut their hold. +Now their hot blood beats loud to love's alarms; +Sigh presses sigh, while from their sparkling eyes +Flashes desire--Oh! ye bright heav'nly beings, +Who pitying bend to suppliant Lovers' pray'rs, +And aid them in extremity, assist me! + +VARDANES. + +Thus, for the Trojan, mourn'd the Queen of Carthage; +So, on the shore she raving stood, and saw +His navy leave her hospitable shore. +In vain she curs'd the wind which fill'd their sails, +And bore the emblem of its change away. [_Comes forward._ + +KING. + +Vardanes--Ha!--come here, I know thou lov'st me. + +VARDANES. + +I do, my Lord; but, say, what busy villain +Durst e'er approach your ear, with coz'ning tales, +And urge you to a doubt? + +KING. + + None, none believe me. +I'll ne'er oppress thy love with fearful doubt-- +A little nigher--let me lean upon thee-- +And thou be my support--for now I mean +T' unbosom to thee free without restraint: +Search all the deep recesses of my soul, +And open ev'ry darling thought before thee, +Which long I've secreted with jealous care. +Pray, mark me well. + +VARDANES. + + I will, my Royal Sire. + +KING. + +On Anna thus reclin'd the love-sick Dido; +Thus to her cheek laid hers with gentle pressure, +And wet her sister with a pearly show'r, +Which fell from her sad eyes, then told her tale, +While gentle Anna gave a pitying tear, +And own'd 'twas moving--thou canst pity too, +I know thy nature tender and engaging. + +VARDANES. + +Tell me, my gracious Lord, what moves you thus? +Why is your breast distracted with these tumults? +Teach me some method how to sooth your sorrows, +And give your heart its former peace and joy; +Instruct thy lov'd Vardanes.-- + +KING. + + Yes, I'll tell thee; +But listen with attention while I speak; +And yet I know 'twill shock thy gentle soul, +And horror o'er thee 'll spread his palsy hand. +O, my lov'd Son! thou fondness of my age! +Thou art the prop of my declining years, +In thee alone I find a Father's joy, +Of all my offspring: but Arsaces-- + +VARDANES. + + Ha! +My Brother!-- + +KING. + + Ay--why dost start?--thy Brother +Pursues me with his hate: and, while warm life +Rolls the red current thro' my veins, delights +To see me tortur'd; with an easy smile +He meets my suff'rings, and derides my pain. + +VARDANES. + + Oh! + +KING. + +What means that hollow groan?--Vardanes, speak, +Death's image fits upon thy pallid cheek, +While thy low voice sounds as when murmurs run +Thro' lengthen'd vaults-- + +VARDANES. + + O! my foreboding thoughts. [_Aside._ +'Twas this disturb'd my rest; when sleep at night +Lock'd me in slumbers; in my dreams I saw +My Brother's crime--yet, death!--it cannot be-- + +KING. + +Ha!--what was that?-- + +VARDANES. + + O! my dread Lord, some Villain +Bred up in lies, and train'd to treach'ry, +Has injur'd you by vile reports, to stain +My Princely Brother's honour. + +KING. + + Thou know'st more, +Thy looks confess what thou in vain wouldst hide-- +And hast thou then conspir'd against me too, +And sworn concealment to your practices?-- +Thy guilt-- + +VARDANES. + + Ha! guilt!--what guilt?-- + +KING. + + Nay, start not so-- +I'll know your purposes, spite of thy art. + +VARDANES. + +O! ye great Gods! and is it come to this?-- +My Royal Father call your reason home, +Drive these loud passions hence, that thus deform you. +My Brother--Ah! what shall I say?--My Brother +Sure loves you as he ought. + +KING. + + Ha! as he ought?-- +Hell blister thy evasive tongue--I'll know it-- +I will; I'll search thy breast, thus will I open +A passage to your secrets--yet resolv'd-- +Yet steady in your horrid villany-- +'Tis fit that I from whom such monsters sprung +No more should burthen earth--Ye Parricides!-- +Here plant your daggers in this hated bosom-- +Here rive my heart, and end at once my sorrows, +I gave ye being, that's the mighty crime. + +VARDANES. + +I can no more--here let me bow in anguish-- +Think not that I e'er join'd in his designs, +Because I have conceal'd my knowledge of them: +I meant, by pow'rful reason's friendly aid, +To turn him from destruction's dreadful path, +And bring him to a sense of what he ow'd +To you as King and Father. + +KING. + + Say on--I'll hear. + +VARDANES. + +He views thy sacred life with envious hate, +As 'tis a bar to his ambitious hopes. +On the bright throne of Empire his plum'd wishes +Seat him, while on his proud aspiring brows +He feels the pleasing weight of Royalty. +But when he wakes from these his airy dreams +(Delusions form'd by the deceiver hope, +To raise him to the glorious height of greatness), +Then hurl him from proud Empire to subjection. +Wild wrath will quickly swell his haughty breast, +Soon as he finds 'tis but a shadowy blessing.-- +'Twas fav'ring accident discover'd to me +All that I know; this Evening as I stood +Alone, retir'd, in the still gallery, +That leads up to th' appartment of my Brother, +T' indulge my melancholy thoughts,-- + +KING. + + Proceed-- + +VARDANES. + +A wretch approach'd with wary step, his eye +Spoke half his tale, denoting villany. +In hollow murmurs thus he question'd me-- +Was I the Prince?--I answer'd to content him-- +Then in his hand he held this paper forth. +"Take this," says he, "this Bethas greets thee with, +Keep but your word our plot will meet success." +I snatch'd it with more rashness than discretion, +Which taught him his mistake. In haste he drew, +And aim'd his dagger at my breast, but paid +His life, a forfeit, for his bold presuming. + +KING. + +O Villain! Villain! + +VARDANES. + + Here, read this, my Lord-- +I read it, and cold horror froze my blood. +And shook me like an ague. + +KING. + + Ha!--what's this?-- +"Doubt not Arabia's aid, set me but free, +I'll easy pass on the old cred'lous King, +For fair Evanthe's Father."--Thus to atoms-- +Oh! could I tear these cursed traitors thus. + + [_Tears the paper into pieces._ + +VARDANES. + +Curses avail you nothing, he has pow'r, +And may abuse it to your prejudice. + +KING. + +I am resolv'd-- + +VARDANES. + + Tho' Pris'ner in his camp, +Yet, Bethas was attended like a Prince, +As tho' he still commanded the Arabians. +'Tis true, when they approach'd the royal city, +He threw him into chains to blind our eyes, +A shallow artifice-- + +KING. + + That is a Truth. + +VARDANES. + +And, yet, he is your Son. + +KING. + + Ah! that indeed-- + +VARDANES. + +Why, that still heightens his impiety, +To rush to empire thro' his Father's blood, +And, in return of life, to give him death. + +KING. + +Oh! I am all on fire, yes I must tear +These folds of venom from me. + +VARDANES. + + Sure 'twas Lysias +That cross'd the passage now. + +KING. + + 'Tis to my wish. +I'll in, and give him orders to arrest +My traitor Son and Bethas--Now Vardanes +Indulge thy Father in this one request-- +Seize, with some horse, Evanthe, and bear her +To your command--Oh! I'll own my weakness-- +I love with fondness mortal never knew-- +Not Jove himself, when he forsook his heav'n, +And in a brutal shape disgrac'd the God, +E'er lov'd like me. + +VARDANES. + + I will obey you, Sir. + + +SCENE IX. + +VARDANES [_alone_]. + +I'll seize her, but I'll keep her for myself, +It were a sin to give her to his age-- +To twine the blooming garland of the spring +Around the sapless trunks of wither'd oaks-- +The night, methinks, grows ruder than it was, +Thus should it be, thus nature should be shock'd, +And Prodigies, affrighting all mankind, +Foretell the dreadful business I intend. +The earth should gape, and swallow cities up, +Shake from their haughty heights aspiring tow'rs, +And level mountains with the vales below; +The Sun amaz'd should frown in dark eclipse, +And light retire to its unclouded heav'n; +While darkness, bursting from her deep recess, +Should wrap all nature in eternal night.-- +Ambition, glorious fever of the mind, +'Tis that which raises us above mankind; +The shining mark which bounteous heav'n has gave, +From vulgar souls distinguishing the brave. + +_End of the Third Act._ + + + + +ACT IV. + + +SCENE I. _A Prison._ + +_GOTARZES and PHRAATES._ + +PHRAATES. + +Oh! fly my Prince, for safety dwells not here, +Hence let me urge thy flight with eager haste. +Last night thy Father sigh'd his soul to bliss, +Base murther'd-- + +GOTARZES. + + Murther'd? ye Gods!-- + +PHRAATES. + + Alas! 'tis true. +Stabb'd in his slumber by a traitor's hand; +I scarce can speak it--horror choaks my words-- +Lysias it was who did the damned deed, +Urg'd by the bloody Queen, and his curs'd rage, +Because the King, thy Sire, in angry mood, +Once struck him on his foul dishonest cheek. +Suspicion gave me fears of this, when first +I heard, the Prince, Arsaces, was imprison'd, +By fell Vardanes' wiles. + +GOTARZES. + + Oh! horror! horror! +Hither I came to share my Brother's sorrows, +To mingle tears, and give him sigh for sigh; +But this is double, double weight of woe. + +PHRAATES. + +'Tis held as yet a secret from the world. +Frighted by hideous dreams I shook off sleep, +And as I mus'd the garden walks along, +Thro' the deep gloom, close in a neighb'ring walk, +Vardanes with proud Lysias I beheld, +Still eager in discourse they saw not me, +For yet the early dawn had not appear'd; +I sought a secret stand, where hid from view, +I heard stern Lysias, hail the Prince Vardanes +As Parthia's dreaded Lord!--"'Tis done", he cry'd, +"'Tis done, and Artabanus is no more. +The blow he gave me is repay'd in blood; +Now shall the morn behold two rising suns: +Vardanes thou, our better light, shalt bring +Bright day and joy to ev'ry heart." + + +GOTARZES. + + Why slept +Your vengeance, oh! ye righteous Gods? + +PHRAATES. + + Then told +A tale, so fill'd with bloody circumstance, +Of this damn'd deed, that stiffen'd me with horror. +Vardanes seem'd to blame the hasty act, +As rash, and unadvis'd, by passion urg'd, +Which never yields to cool reflection's place. +But, being done, resolv'd it secret, lest +The multitude should take it in their wise +Authority to pry into his death. +Arsaces was, by assassination, +Doom'd to fall. Your name was mention'd also-- +But hurried by my fears away, I left +The rest unheard-- + +GOTARZES. + +What can be done?--Reflection, why wilt thou +Forsake us, when distress is at our heels? +Phraates, help me, aid me with thy council. + +PHRAATES. + +Then stay not here, fly to Barzaphernes, +His conqu'ring troops are at a trivial distance; +Soon will you reach the camp; he lov'd your Brother, +And your Father with affection serv'd; haste +Your flight, whilst yet I have the city-guard, +For Lysias I expect takes my command. +I to the camp dispatch'd a trusty slave, +Before the morn had spread her blushing veil. +Away, you'll meet the Gen'ral on the road, +On such a cause as this he'll not delay. + +GOTARZES. + +I thank your love-- + + +SCENE II. + +PHRAATES [_alone_]. + + I'll wait behind, my stay +May aid the cause; dissembling I must learn, +Necessity shall teach me how to vary +My features to the looks of him I serve. +I'll thrust myself disguis'd among the croud, +And fill their ears with murmurs of the deed: +Whisper all is not well, blow up the sparks +Of discord, and it soon will flame to rage. + + +SCENE III. + +_QUEEN and LYSIAS._ + +QUEEN. + +Haste, and shew me to the Prince Arsaces, +Delay not, see the signet of Vardanes. + +LYSIAS. + +Royal Thermusa, why this eagerness? +This tumult of the soul?--what means this dagger? +Ha!--I suspect-- + +QUEEN. + + Hold--for I'll tell thee, Lysias. +'Tis--oh! I scarce can speak the mighty joy-- +I shall be greatly blest in dear revenge, +'Tis vengeance on Arsaces--yes, this hand +Shall urge the shining poniard to his heart, +And give him death--yea, give the ruffian death; +So shall I smile on his keen agonies. + +LYSIAS. + +Ha! am I robb'd of all my hopes of vengeance, +Shall I then calmly stand with all my wrongs, +And see another bear away revenge? + +QUEEN. + +For what can Lysias ask revenge, to bar +His Queen of hers? + +LYSIAS. + + Was I not scorn'd, and spurn'd, +With haughty insolence? like a base coward +Refus'd what e'er I ask'd, and call'd a boaster? +My honour sullied, with opprobrious words, +Which can no more its former brightness know, +'Til, with his blood, I've wash'd the stains away. +Say, shall I then not seek for glorious vengeance? + +QUEEN. + +And what is this, to the sad Mother's griefs, +Her hope cut off, rais'd up with pain and care? +Hadst thou e'er supported the lov'd Prattler? +Hadst thou like me hung o'er his infancy, +Wasting in wakeful mood the tedious night, +And watch'd his sickly couch, far mov'd from rest, +Waiting his health's return?--Ah! hadst thou known +The parent's fondness, rapture, toil and sorrow, +The joy his actions gave, and the fond wish +Of something yet to come, to bless my age, +And lead me down with pleasure to the grave, +Thou wouldst not thus talk lightly of my wrongs. +But I delay-- + +LYSIAS. + + To thee I then submit. +Be sure to wreck a double vengeance on him; +If that thou knowst a part in all his body, +Where pain can most be felt, strike, strike him there-- +And let him know the utmost height of anguish. +It is a joy to think that he shall fall, +Tho' 'tis another hand which gives the blow. + + +SCENE IV. + +_ARSACES and BETHAS._ + +ARSACES. + +Why should I linger out my joyless days, +When length of hope is length of misery? +Hope is a coz'ner, and beguiles our cares, +Cheats us with empty shews of happiness, +Swift fleeting joys which mock the faint embrace; +We wade thro' ills pursuing of the meteor, +Yet are distanc'd still. + +BETHAS. + + Ah! talk not of hope-- +Hope fled when bright Astræa spurn'd this earth, +And sought her seat among the shining Gods; +Despair, proud tyrant, ravages my breast, +And makes all desolation. + +ARSACES. + + How can I +Behold those rev'rent sorrows, see those cheeks +Moist with the dew which falls from thy sad eyes, +Nor imitate distraction's frantic tricks, +And chace cold lifeless reason from her throne? +I am the fatal cause of all this sorrow, +The spring of ills,--to know me is unhappiness;-- +And mis'ry, like a hateful plague, pursues +My wearied steps, and blasts the springing verdure. + +BETHAS. + +No;--It is I that am the source of all, +It is my fortune sinks you to this trouble; +Before you shower'd your gentle pity on me, +You shone the pride of this admiring world.-- +Evanthe springs from me, whose fatal charms +Produces all this ruin.--Hear me heav'n! +If to another love she ever yields, +And stains her soul with spotted falsehood's crime, +If e'en in expectation tastes a bliss, +Nor joins Arsaces with it, I will wreck +My vengeance on her, so that she shall be +A dread example to all future times. + +ARSACES. + +Oh! curse her not, nor threaten her with anger, +She is all gentleness, yet firm to truth, +And blest with ev'ry pleasing virtue, free +From levity, her sex's character. +She scorns to chace the turning of the wind, +Varying from point to point. + +BETHAS. + + I love her, ye Gods! +I need not speak the greatness of my love, +Each look which straining draws my soul to hers +Denotes unmeasur'd fondness; but mis'ry, +Like a fretful peevish child, can scarce tell +What it would wish, or aim at. + +ARSACES. + + Immortals, hear! +Thus do I bow my soul in humble pray'r-- +Thou, King of beings, in whose breath is fate, +Show'r on Evanthe all thy choicest blessings, +And bless her with excess of happiness; +If yet, there is one bliss reserv'd in store, +And written to my name, oh! give it her, +And give me all her sorrows in return. + +BETHAS. + +'Rise, 'rise my Prince, this goodness o'erwhelms me, +She's too unworthy of so great a passion. + +ARSACES. + +I know not what it means, I'm not as usual, +Ill-boding cares, and restless fears oppress me, +And horrid dreams disturb, and fright, my slumbers; +But yesternight, 'tis dreadful to relate, +E'en now I tremble at my waking thoughts, +Methought, I stood alone upon the shore, +And, at my feet, there roll'd a sea of blood, +High wrought, and 'midst the waves, appear'd my Father, +Struggling for life; above him was Vardanes, +Pois'd in the air, he seem'd to rule the storm, +And, now and then, would push my Father down, +And for a space he'd sink beneath the waves, +And then, all gory, rise to open view, +His voice in broken accents reach'd my ear, +And bade me save him from the bloody stream; +Thro' the red billows eagerly I rush'd, +But sudden woke, benum'd with chilling fear. + +BETHAS. + +Most horrible indeed!--but let it pass, +'Tis but the offspring of a mind disturb'd, +For sorrow leaves impressions on the fancy, +Which shew most fearful to us lock'd in sleep. + +ARSACES. + +Thermusa! ha!--what can be her design? +She bears this way, and carries in her looks +An eagerness importing violence. +Retire--for I would meet her rage alone. + + +SCENE V. + +_ARSACES and QUEEN._ + +ARSACES. + +What means the proud Thermusa by this visit, +Stoops heav'n-born pity to a breast like thine? +Pity adorns th' virtuous, but ne'er dwells +Where hate, revenge, and rage distract the soul. +Sure, it is hate that hither urg'd thy steps, +To view misfortune with an eye of triumph. +I know thou lov'st me not, for I have dar'd +To cross thy purposes, and, bold in censure, +Spoke of thy actions as they merited. +Besides, this hand 'twas slew the curs'd Vonones. + +QUEEN. + +And darst thou insolent to name Vonones? +To heap perdition on thy guilty soul? +There needs not this to urge me to revenge-- +But let me view this wonder of mankind, +Whose breath can set the bustling world in arms. +I see no dreadful terrors in his eye, +Nor gathers chilly fears around my heart, +Nor strains my gazing eye with admiration, +And, tho' a woman, I can strike the blow. + +ARSACES. + +Why gaze you on me thus? why hesitate? +Am I to die? + +QUEEN. + + Thou art--this dagger shall +Dissolve thy life, thy fleeting ghost I'll send +To wait Vonones in the shades below. + +ARSACES. + +And even there I'll triumph over him. + +QUEEN. + +O, thou vile homicide! thy fatal hand +Has robb'd me of all joy; Vonones, to +Thy Manes this proud sacrifice I give. +That hand which sever'd the friendship of thy +Soul and body, shall never draw again +Imbitt'ring tears from sorr'wing mother's eyes. +This, with the many tears I've shed, receive + + [_Offers to stab him._ + +Ha!--I'd strike; what holds my hand?--'tis n't pity. + +ARSACES. + +Nay, do not mock me, with the shew of death, +And yet deny the blessing; I have met +Your taunts with equal taunts, in hopes to urge +The blow with swift revenge; but since that fails, +I'll woo thee to compliance, teach my tongue +Persuasion's winning arts, to gain thy soul; +I'll praise thy clemency, in dying accents +Bless thee for, this, thy charitable deed. +Oh! do not stand; see, how my bosom heaves +To meet the stroke; in pity let me die, +'Tis all the happiness I now can know. + +QUEEN. + +How sweet the eloquence of dying men! +Hence Poets feign'd the music of the Swan, +When death upon her lays his icy hand, +She melts away in melancholy strains. + +ARSACES. + +Play not thus cruel with my poor request, +But take my loving Father's thanks, and mine. + +QUEEN. + +Thy Father cannot thank me now. + +ARSACES. + + He will, +Believe me, e'en whilst dissolv'd in ecstacy +On fond Evanthe's bosom, he will pause, +One moment from his joys, to bless the deed. + +QUEEN. + +What means this tumult in my breast? from whence +Proceeds this sudden change? my heart beats high, +And soft compassion makes me less than woman: +I'll search no more for what I fear to know. + +ARSACES. + +Why drops the dagger from thy trembling hand? +Oh! yet be kind-- + +QUEEN. + + No: now I'd have thee live, +Since it is happiness to die: 'Tis pain +That I would give thee, thus I bid thee live; +Yes, I would have thee a whole age a dying, +And smile to see thy ling'ring agonies. +All day I'd watch thee, mark each heighten'd pang, +While springing joy should swell my panting bosom; +This I would have--But should this dagger give +Thy soul the liberty it fondly wishes, +'Twould soar aloft, and mock my faint revenge. + +ARSACES. + +This mildness shews most foul, thy anger lovely. +Think that 'twas I who blasted thy fond hope, +Vonones now lies number'd with the dead, +And all your joys are buried in his grave; +My hand untimely pluck'd the precious flow'r, +Before its shining beauties were display'd. + +QUEEN. + +O Woman! Woman! where's thy resolution? +Where's thy revenge? Where's all thy hopes of vengeance? +Giv'n to the winds--Ha! is it pity?--No-- +I fear it wears another softer name. +I'll think no more, but rush to my revenge, +In spite of foolish fear, or woman's softness; +Be steady now my soul to thy resolves. +Yes, thou shalt die, thus, on thy breast, I write +Thy instant doom--ha!--ye Gods! + + [_QUEEN starts, as, in great fright, at hearing something._ + +ARSACES. + + Why this pause? +Why dost thou idly stand like imag'd vengeance, +With harmless terrors threatning on thy brow, +With lifted arm, yet canst not strike the blow? + +QUEEN. + +It surely was the Echo to my fears, +The whistling wind, perhaps, which mimick'd voice; +But thrice methought it loudly cry'd, "Forbear." +Imagination hence--I'll heed thee not-- + + [_Ghost of ARTABANUS rises._ + +Save me--oh!--save me--ye eternal pow'rs!-- +See!--see it comes, surrounded with dread terrors-- +Hence--hence! nor blast me with that horrid sight-- +Throw off that shape, and search th' infernal rounds +For horrid forms, there's none can shock like thine. + +GHOST. + +No; I will ever wear this form, thus e'er +Appear before thee; glare upon thee thus, +'Til desperation, join'd to thy damn'd crime, +Shall wind thee to the utmost height of frenzy. +In vain you grasp the dagger in your hand, +In vain you dress your brows in angry frowns, +In vain you raise your threatning arm in air, +Secure, Arsaces triumphs o'er your rage. +Guarded by fate, from thy accurs'd revenge, +Thou canst not touch his life; the Gods have giv'n +A softness to thy more than savage soul +Before unknown, to aid their grand designs. +Fate yet is lab'ring with some great event, +But what must follow I'm forbid to broach-- +Think, think of me, I sink to rise again, +To play in blood before thy aching sight, +And shock thy guilty soul with hell-born horrors-- +Think, think of Artabanus! and despair-- [_Sinks._ + +QUEEN. + +Think of thee, and despair?--yes, I'll despair-- +Yet stay,--oh! stay, thou messenger of fate! +Tell me--Ha! 'tis gone--and left me wretched-- + +ARSACES. + +Your eyes seem fix'd upon some dreadful object, +Horror and anguish clothe your whiten'd face, +And your frame shakes with terror; I hear you speak +As seeming earnest in discourse, yet hear +No second voice. + +QUEEN. + + What! saw'st thou nothing? + +ARSACES. + + Nothing. + +QUEEN. + + Nor hear'd?-- + +ARSACES. + + Nor Hear'd. + +QUEEN. + + Amazing spectacle!-- +Cold moist'ning dews distil from ev'ry pore, +I tremble like to palsied age--Ye Gods! +Would I could leave this loath'd detested being!-- +Oh! all my brain's on fire--I rave! I rave!-- [_Ghost rises again._ +Ha! it comes again--see, it glides along-- +See, see, what streams of blood flow from its wounds! +A crimson torrent--Shield me, oh! shield me, heav'n.-- + +ARSACES. + +Great, and righteous Gods!-- + +QUEEN. + + Ah! frown not on me-- +Why dost thou shake thy horrid locks at me? +Can I give immortality?--'tis gone-- [_Ghost sinks._ +It flies me, see, ah!--stop it, stop it, haste-- + +ARSACES. + +Oh, piteous sight!-- + +QUEEN. + + Hist! prithee, hist! oh death! +I'm all on fire--now freezing bolts of ice +Dart thro' my breast--Oh! burst ye cords of life-- +Ha! who are ye?--Why do ye stare upon me?-- +Oh!--defend me, from these bick'ring Furies! + +ARSACES. + +Alas! her sense is lost, distressful Queen! + +QUEEN. + +Help me, thou King of Gods! oh! help me! help!-- +See! they envir'n me round--Vonones too, +The foremost leading on the dreadful troop-- +But there, Vardanes beck'ns me to shun +Their hellish rage--I come, I come! +Ah! they pursue me, with a scourge of fire.-- [_Runs out distracted._ + + +SCENE VI. + +ARSACES [_alone_]. + +Oh!--horror!--on the ground she breathless lies, +Silent, in death's cold sleep; the wall besmear'd +With brains and gore, the marks of her despair. +O guilt! how dreadful dost thou ever shew! +How lovely are the charms of innocence! +How beauteous tho' in sorrows and distress!-- +Ha!--what noise?-- [_Clashing of swords._ + + +SCENE VII. + +_ARSACES, BARZAPHERNES and GOTARZES._ + +BARZAPHERNES. + + At length we've forc'd our entrance-- +O my lov'd Prince! to see thee thus, indeed, +Melts e'en me to a woman's softness; see +My eyes o'erflow--Are these the ornaments +For Royal hands? rude manacles! oh shameful! +Is this thy room of state, this gloomy goal? +Without attendance, and thy bed the pavement? +But, ah! how diff'rent was our parting last! +When flush'd with vict'ry, reeking from the slaughter, +You saw Arabia's Sons scour o'er the plain +In shameful flight, before your conqu'ring sword; +Then shone you like the God of battle. + +ARSACES. + + Welcome! +Welcome, my loyal friends! Barzaphernes! +My good old soldier, to my bosom thus! +Gotarzes, my lov'd Brother! now I'm happy.-- +But, say, my soldier, why these threatning arms? +Why am I thus releas'd by force? my Father, +I should have said the King, had he relented, +He'd not have us'd this method to enlarge me. +Alas! I fear, too forward in your love, +You'll brand me with the rebel's hated name. + +BARZAPHERNES. + +I am by nature blunt--the soldier's manner. +Unus'd to the soft arts practis'd at courts. +Nor can I move the passions, or disguise +The sorr'wing tale to mitigate the smart. +Then seek it not: I would sound the alarm, +Loud as the trumpet's clangour, in your ears; +Nor win I hail you, as our Parthia's King, +'Til you've full reveng'd your Father's murther. + +ARSACES. + +Murther?--good heav'n! + +BARZAPHERNES. + + The tale requires some time; +And opportunity must not be lost; +Your traitor Brother, who usurps your rights, +Must, ere his faction gathers to a head, +Have from his brows his new-born honours torn. + +ARSACES. + +What, dost thou say, murther'd by Vardanes? +Impious parricide!--detested villain!-- +Give me a sword, and onward to the charge, +Stop gushing tears, for I will weep in blood, +And sorrow with the groans of dying men.-- +Revenge! revenge!--oh!--all my soul's on fire! + +GOTARZES. + +'Twas not Vardanes struck the fatal blow, +Though, great in pow'r usurp'd, he dares support +The actor, vengeful Lysias; to his breast +He clasps, with grateful joy, the bloody villain; +Who soon meant, with ruffian wiles, to cut +You from the earth, and also me. + +ARSACES. + + Just heav'ns!-- +But, gentle Brother, how didst thou elude +The vigilant, suspicious, tyrant's craft? + +GOTARZES. + +Phraates, by an accident, obtain'd +The knowledge of the deed, and warn'd by him +I bent my flight toward the camp, to seek +Protection and revenge; but scarce I'd left +The city when I o'ertook the Gen'ral. + +BARZAPHERNES. + +Ere the sun 'rose I gain'd th' intelligence: +The soldiers when they heard the dreadful tale, +First stood aghast, and motionless with horror. +Then suddenly, inspir'd with noble rage, +Tore up their ensigns, calling on their leaders +To march them to the city instantly. +I, with some trusty few, with speed came forward, +To raise our friends within, and gain your freedom. +Nor hazard longer, by delays, your safety. +Already faithful Phraates has gain'd +A num'rous party of the citizens; +With these we mean t' attack the Royal Palace, +Crush the bold tyrant with surprise, while sunk +In false security; and vengeance wreck, +Ere that he thinks the impious crime be known. + +ARSACES. + +O! parent being, Ruler of yon heav'n! +Who bade creation spring to order, hear me. +What ever sins are laid upon my soul, +Now let them not prove heavy on this day, +To sink my arm, or violate my cause. +The sacred rights of Kings, my Country's wrongs, +The punishment of fierce impiety, +And a lov'd Father's death, call forth my sword.-- + +Now on; I feel all calm within my breast, +And ev'ry busy doubt is hush'd to rest; +Smile heav'n propitious on my virtuous cause, +Nor aid the wretch who dares disdain your laws. + +_End of the Fourth Act._ + + + + +ACT V. + + +SCENE I. _The Palace._ + +_The Curtain rises, slowly, to soft music, and discovers EVANTHE +sleeping on a sofa; after the music ceases, VARDANES enters._ + +VARDANES. + +Now shining Empire standing at the goal, +Beck'ns me forward to increase my speed; +But, yet, Arsaces lives, bane to my hopes, +Lysias I'll urge to ease me of his life, +Then give the villain up to punishment. +The shew of justice gains the changeling croud, +Besides, I ne'er will harbour in my bosom +Such serpents, ever ready with their stings-- +But now one hour for love and fair Evanthe-- +Hence with ambition's cares--see, where reclin'd, +In slumbers all her sorrows are dismiss'd, +Sleep seems to heighten ev'ry beauteous feature, +And adds peculiar softness to each grace. +She weeps--in dreams some lively sorrow pains her-- +I'll take one kiss--oh! what a balmy sweetness! +Give me another--and another still-- +For ever thus I'd dwell upon her lips. +Be still my heart, and calm unruly transports.-- +Wake her, with music, from this mimic death. + + [_Music sounds._ + +SONG. + + Tell me, Phillis, tell me why, + You appear so wond'rous coy, + When that glow, and sparkling eye, + Speak you want to taste the joy? + Prithee, give this fooling o'er, + Nor torment your lover more. + + While youth is warm within our veins, + And nature tempts us to be gay, + Give to pleasure loose the reins, + Love and youth fly swift away. + Youth in pleasure should be spent, + Age will come, we'll then repent. + +EVANTHE [_waking_]. + +I come, ye lovely shades--Ha! am I here? +Still in the tyrant's palace? Ye bright pow'rs! +Are all my blessings then but vis'onary? +Methought I was arriv'd on that blest shore +Where happy souls for ever dwell, crown'd with +Immortal bliss; Arsaces led me through +The flow'ry groves, while all around me gleam'd +Thousand and thousand shades, who welcom'd me +With pleasing songs of joy--Vardanes, ha!-- + +VARDANES. + +Why beams the angry lightning of thine eye +Against thy sighing slave? Is love a crime? +Oh! if to dote, with such excess of passion +As rises e'en to mad extravagance +Is criminal, I then am so, indeed. + +EVANTHE. + +Away! vile man!-- + +VARDANES. + + If to pursue thee e'er +With all the humblest offices of love, +If ne'er to know one single thought that does +Not bear thy bright idea, merits scorn-- + +EVANTHE. + +Hence from my sight--nor let me, thus, pollute +Mine eyes, with looking on a wretch like thee, +Thou cause of all my ills; I sicken at +Thy loathsome presence-- + +VARDANES. + + 'Tis not always thus, +Nor dost thou ever meet the sounds of love +With rage and fierce disdain: Arsaces, soon, +Could smooth thy brow, and melt thy icy breast. + +EVANTHE. + +Ha! does it gall thee? Yes, he could, he could; +Oh! when he speaks, such sweetness dwells upon +His accents, all my soul dissolves to love, +And warm desire; such truth and beauty join'd! +His looks are soft and kind, such gentleness +Such virtue swells his bosom! in his eye +Sits majesty, commanding ev'ry heart. +Strait as the pine, the pride of all the grove, +More blooming than the spring, and sweeter far, +Than asphodels or roses infant sweets. +Oh! I could dwell forever on his praise, +Yet think eternity was scarce enough +To tell the mighty theme; here in my breast +His image dwells, but one dear thought of him, +When fancy paints his Person to my eye, +As he was wont in tenderness dissolv'd, +Sighing his vows, or kneeling at my feet, +Wipes off all mem'ry of my wretchedness. + +VARDANES. + +I know this brav'ry is affected, yet +It gives me joy, to think my rival only +Can in imagination taste thy beauties. +Let him,--'twill ease him in his solitude, +And gild the horrors of his prison-house, +Till death shall-- + +EVANTHE. + + Ha! what was that? till death--ye Gods! +Ah, now I feel distress's tort'ring pang-- +Thou canst not, villain--darst not think his death-- +O mis'ry!-- + +VARDANES. + + Naught but your kindness saves him, +Yet bless me, with your love, and he is safe; +But the same frown which kills my growing hopes, +Gives him to death. + +EVANTHE. + + O horror, I could die +Ten thousand times to save the lov'd Arsaces. +Teach me the means, ye pow'rs, how to save him: +Then lead me to what ever is my fate. + +VARDANES. + +Not only shall he die, but to thy view +I'll bring the scene, those eyes that take delight +In cruelty, shall have enough of death. +E'en here, before thy sight, he shall expire, +Not sudden, but by ling'ring torments; all +That mischief can invent shall be practis'd +To give him pain; to lengthen out his woe +I'll search around the realm for skillful men, +To find new tortures. + +EVANTHE. + + Oh! wrack not thus my soul! + +VARDANES. + +The sex o'erflows with various humours, he +Who catches not their smiles the very moment, +Will lose the blessing--I'll improve this softness.-- [_Aside to her._ +Heav'n never made thy beauties to destroy, +They were to bless, and not to blast mankind; +Pity should dwell within thy lovely breast, +That sacred temple ne'er was form'd for hate +A habitation; but a residence +For love and gaiety. + +EVANTHE. + + Oh! heav'ns! + +VARDANES. + + That sigh, +Proclaims your kind consent to save Arsaces. [_Laying hold of her._ + +EVANTHE. + +Ha! villain, off--unhand me--hence-- + +VARDANES. + + In vain +Is opportunity to those, who spend +An idle courtship on the fair, they well +Deserve their fate, if they're disdain'd;--her charms +To rush upon, and conquer opposition, +Gains the Fair one's praise; an active lover +Suits, who lies aside the coxcomb's empty whine, +And forces her to bliss. + +EVANTHE. + + Ah! hear me, hear me, +Thus kneeling, with my tears, I do implore thee: +Think on my innocence, nor force a joy +Which will ever fill thy soul with anguish. +Seek not to load my ills with infamy, +Let me not be a mark for bitter scorn, +To bear proud virtue's taunts and mocking jeers, +And like a flow'r, of all its sweetness robb'd, +Be trod to earth, neglected and disdain'd, +And spurn'd by ev'ry vulgar saucy foot. + +VARDANES. + +Speak, speak forever--music's in thy voice, +Still attentive will I listen to thee, +Be hush'd as night, charm'd with the magic sound. + +EVANTHE. + +Oh! teach me, heav'n, soft moving eloquence, +To bend his stubborn soul to gentleness.-- +Where is thy virtue? Where thy princely lustre? +Ah! wilt thou meanly stoop to do a wrong, +And stain thy honour with so foul a blot? +Thou who shouldst be a guard to innocence. +Leave force to brutes--for pleasure is not found +Where still the soul's averse; horror and guilt, +Distraction, desperation chace her hence. +Some happier gentle Fair one you may find, +Whose yielding heart may bend to meet your flame, +In mutual love soft joys alone are found; +When souls are drawn by secret sympathy, +And virtue does on virtue smile. + +VARDANES. + + No more-- +Her heav'nly tongue will charm me from th' intent-- +Hence coward softness, force shall make me blest. + +EVANTHE. + +Assist me, ye bless't pow'rs!--oh! strike, ye Gods! +Strike me, with thunder dead, this moment, e'er +I suffer violation-- + +VARDANES. + + 'Tis in vain, +The idle pray'rs by fancy'd grief put up, +Are blown by active winds regardless by, +Nor ever reach the heav'ns. + + +SCENE II. + +_VARDANES, EVANTHE and LYSIAS._ + +LYSIAS. + + Arm, arm, my Lord!-- + +VARDANES. + +Damnation! why this interruption now?-- + +LYSIAS. + +Oh! arm! my noble Prince, the foe's upon us. +Arsaces, by Barzaphernes releas'd, +Join'd with the citizens, assaults the Palace, +And swears revenge for Artabanus' death. + +VARDANES. + +Ha! what? revenge for Artabanus' death?-- +'Tis the curse of Princes that their counsels, +Which should be kept like holy mysteries, +Can never rest in silent secrecy. +Fond of employ, some cursed tattling tongue +Will still divulge them. + +LYSIAS. + + Sure some fiend from hell, +In mischief eminent, to cross our views, +Has giv'n th' intelligence, for man could not. + +EVANTHE. + +Oh! ever blest event!--All-gracious heav'n! +This beam of joy revives me. + + +SCENE III. + +_VARDANES, EVANTHE, LYSIAS, to them, an OFFICER._ + +OFFICER. + + Haste! my Lord! +Or all will soon be lost; tho' thrice repuls'd +By your e'erfaithful guards, they still return +With double fury. + +VARDANES. + + Hence, then, idle love-- +Come forth, my trusty sword--curs'd misfortune!-- +Had I but one short hour, without reluctance, +I'd meet them, tho' they brib'd the pow'rs of hell, +To place their furies in the van: Yea, rush +To meet this dreadful Brother 'midst the war-- +Haste to the combat--Now a crown or death-- +The wretch who dares to give an inch of ground +Till I retire, shall meet the death he shun'd. +Away--away! delays are dang'rous now-- + + +SCENE IV. + +EVANTHE [_alone_]. + +Now heav'n be partial to Arsaces' cause, +Nor leave to giddy chance when virtue strives; +Let victory sit on his warlike helm, +For justice draws his sword: be thou his aid, +And let the opposer's arm sink with the weight +Of his most impious crimes--be still my heart, +For all that thou canst aid him with is pray'r. +Oh! that I had the strength of thousands in me! +Or that my voice could wake the sons of men +To join, and crush the tyrant!-- + + +SCENE V. + +_EVANTHE and CLEONE._ + +EVANTHE. + + My Cleone-- +Welcome thou partner of my joys and sorrows. + +CLEONE. + +Oh! yonder terror triumphs uncontroul'd, +And glutton death seems never satisfy'd. +Each soft sensation lost in thoughtless rage, +And breast to breast, oppos'd in furious war, +The fiery Chiefs receive the vengeful steel. +O'er lifeless heaps of men the soldiers climb +Still eager for the combat, while the ground +Made slipp'ry by the gushing streams of gore +Is treach'rous to their feet.--Oh! horrid sight!-- +Too much for me to stand, my life was chill'd, +As from the turret I beheld the fight, +It forc'd me to retire. + +EVANTHE. + + What of Arsaces? + +CLEONE. + +I saw him active in the battle, now, +Like light'ning, piercing thro' the thickest foe, +Then scorning to disgrace his sword in low +Plebeian blood--loud for Vardanes call'd-- +To meet him singly, and decide the war. + +EVANTHE. + +Save him, ye Gods!--oh! all my soul is fear-- +Fly, fly Cleone, to the tow'r again, +See how fate turns the ballance; and pursue +Arsaces with thine eye; mark ev'ry blow, +Observe if some bold villain dares to urge +His sword presumptuous at my Hero's breast. +Haste, my Cleone, haste, to ease my fears. + + +SCENE VI. + +EVANTHE [_alone_]. + +Ah!--what a cruel torment is suspense! +My anxious soul is torn 'twixt love and fear, +Scarce can I please me with one fancied bliss +Which kind imagination forms, but reason, +Proud, surly reason, snatches the vain joy, +And gives me up again to sad distress. +Yet I can die, and should Arsaces fall +This fatal draught shall ease me of my sorrows. + + +SCENE VII. + +CLEONE [_alone_]. + +Oh! horror! horror! horror!--cruel Gods!-- +I saw him fall--I did--pierc'd thro' with wounds-- +Curs'd! curs'd Vardanes!--hear'd the gen'ral cry, +Which burst, as tho' all nature had dissolv'd. +Hark! how they shout! the noise seems coming this way. + + +SCENE VIII. + +_ARSACES, GOTARZES, BARZAPHERNES and OFFICERS, with VARDANES and +LYSIAS, prisoners._ + +ARSACES. + +Thanks to the ruling pow'rs who blest our arms, +Prepare the sacrifices to the Gods, +And grateful songs of tributary praise.-- +Gotarzes, fly, my Brother, find Evanthe, +And bring the lovely mourner to my arms. + +GOTARZES. + +Yes, I'll obey you, with a willing speed. [_Exit GOTARZES._ + +ARSACES. + +Thou, Lysias, from yon tow'r's aspiring height +Be hurl'd to death, thy impious hands are stain'd +With royal blood--Let the traitor's body +Be giv'n to hungry dogs. + +LYSIAS. + + Welcome, grim death!-- +I've fed thy maw with Kings, and lack no more +Revenge--Now, do thy duty, Officer. + +OFFICER. + +Yea, and would lead all traitors gladly thus,-- +The boon of their deserts. + + +SCENE IX. + +ARSACES, VARDANES, BARZAPHERNES. + +ARSACES. + + But for Vardanes, +The Brother's name forgot-- + +VARDANES. + + You need no more, +I know the rest--Ah! death is near, my wounds +Permit me not to live--my breath grows short, +Curs'd be Phraates' arm which stop'd my sword, +Ere it had reach'd thy proud exulting heart. +But the wretch paid dear for his presuming; +A just reward.-- + +ARSACES. + + He sinks, yet bear him up-- + +VARDANES. + +Curs'd be the multitude which o'erpow'r'd me, +And beat me to the ground, cover'd with wounds-- +But, oh! 'tis done! my ebbing life is done-- +I feel death's hand upon me--Yet, I die +Just as I wish, and daring for a crown, +Life without rule is my disdain; I scorn +To swell a haughty Brother's sneaking train, +To wait upon his ear with flatt'ring tales, +And court his smiles; come, death, in thy cold arms, +Let me forget Ambition's mighty toil, +And shun the triumphs of a hated Brother-- +O! bear me off--Let not his eyes enjoy +My agonies--My sight grows dim with death. [_They bear him off._ + + +SCENE (_the Last_). + +_ARSACES, GOTARZES, BARZAPHERNES, and EVANTHE supported._ + +EVANTHE. + +Lead me, oh! lead me, to my lov'd Arsaces. +Where is he?-- + +ARSACES. + +Ha! what's this?--Just heav'ns!--my fears-- + +EVANTHE. + +Arsaces, oh! thus circl'd in thy arms, +I die without a pang. + +ARSACES. + + Ha! die?--why stare ye, +Ye lifeless ghosts? Have none of ye a tongue +To tell me I'm undone? + +GOTARZES. + + Soon, my Brother, +Too soon, you'll know it by the sad effects; +And if my grief will yet permit my tongue +To do its office, thou shalt hear the tale. +Cleone, from the turret, view'd the battle, +And on Phraates fix'd her erring sight, +Thy brave unhappy friend she took for thee, +By his garb deceiv'd, which like to thine he wore. +Still with her eye she follow'd him, where e'er +He pierc'd the foe, and to Vardanes' sword +She saw him fall a hapless victim, then, +In agonies of grief, flew to Evanthe, +And told the dreadful tale--the fatal bowl +I saw-- + +ARSACES. + + Be dumb, nor ever give again +Fear to the heart, with thy ill-boding voice. + +EVANTHE. + +Here, I'll rest, till death, on thy lov'd bosom, +Here let me sigh my--Oh! the poison works-- + +ARSACES. + +Oh! horror!-- + +EVANTHE. + + Cease--this sorrow pains me more +Than all the wringing agonies of death, +The dreadful parting of the soul from, this, +Its wedded clay--Ah! there--that pang shot thro' +My throbbing heart-- + +ARSACES. + + Save her, ye Gods!--oh! save her! +And I will bribe ye with clouds of incense; +Such num'rous sacrifices, that your altars +Shall even sink beneath the mighty load. + +EVANTHE. + +When I am dead, dissolv'd to native dust, +Yet let me live in thy dear mem'ry-- +One tear will not be much to give Evanthe. + +ARSACES. + +My eyes shall e'er two running fountains be, +And wet thy urn with overflowing tears, +Joy ne'er again within my breast shall find +A residence--Oh! speak, once more-- + +EVANTHE. + + Life's just out-- +My Father--Oh! protect his honour'd age, +And give him shelter from the storms of fate, +He's long been fortune's sport--Support me--Ah!-- +I can no more--my glass is spent--farewell-- +Forever--Arsaces!--Oh! [_Dies._ + +ARSACES. + + Stay, oh! stay, +Or take me with thee--dead! she's cold and dead! +Her eyes are clos'd, and all my joys are flown-- +Now burst ye elements, from your restraint, +Let order cease, and chaos be again. +Break! break, tough heart!--oh! torture--life dissolve-- +Why stand ye idle? Have I not one friend +To kindly free me from this pain? One blow, +One friendly blow would give me ease. + +BARZAPHERNES. + + The Gods +Forefend!--Pardon me, Royal Sir, if I +Dare, seemingly disloyal, seize your sword, +Despair may urge you far-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha! traitors! rebels!-- +Hoary rev'rend Villain! what, disarm me? +Give me my sword--what, stand ye by, and see +Your Prince insulted? Are ye rebels all?-- + +BARZAPHERNES. + +Be calm, my gracious Lord! + +GOTARZES. + + Oh! my lov'd Brother! + +ARSACES. + +Gotarzes too! all! all! conspir'd against me? +Still, are ye all resolv'd that I must live, +And feel the momentary pangs of death?-- +Ha!--this, shall make a passage for my soul-- + + [_Snatches BARZAPHERNES' sword._ + +Out, out vile cares, from your distress'd abode-- [_Stabs himself._ + +BARZAPHERNES. + +Oh! ye eternal Gods! + +GOTARZES. + + Distraction! heav'ns! +I shall run mad-- + +ARSACES. + + Ah! 'tis in vain to grieve-- +The steel has done its part, and I'm at rest.-- +Gotarzes, wear my crown, and be thou blest, +Cherish, Barzaphernes, my trusty chief-- +I faint, oh! lay me by Evanthe's side-- +Still wedded in our deaths--Bethas-- + +BARZAPHERNES. + + Despair, +My Lord, has broke his heart, I saw him stretch'd, +Along the flinty pavement, in his gaol-- +Cold, lifeless-- + +ARSACES. + + He's happy then--had he heard +This tale, he'd--Ah! Evanthe chides my soul, +For ling'ring here so long--another pang +And all the world, adieu--oh! adieu!-- [_Dies._ + +GOTARZES. + + Oh! +Fix me, heav'n, immoveable, a statue, +And free me from o'erwhelming tides of grief. + +BARZAPHERNES. + +Oh! my lov'd Prince, I soon shall follow thee; +Thy laurel'd glories whither are they fled?-- +Would I had died before this fatal day!-- +Triumphant garlands pride my soul no more, +No more the lofty voice of war can charm-- +And why then am I here? Thus then-- [_Offers to stab himself._ + +GOTARZES. + + Ah! hold, +Nor rashly urge the blow--think of me, and +Live--My heart is wrung with streaming anguish, +Tore with the smarting pangs of woe, yet, will I +Dare to live, and stem misfortune's billows. +Live then, and be the guardian of my youth, +And lead me on thro' virtue's rugged path. + +BARZAPHERNES. + +O, glorious youth, thy words have rous'd the +Drooping genius of my soul; thus, let me +Clasp thee, in my aged arms; yes, I will live-- +Live, to support thee in thy kingly rights, +And when thou 'rt firmly fix'd, my task's perform'd, +My honourable task--Then I'll retire, +Petition gracious heav'n to bless my work, +And in the silent grave forget my cares. + +GOTARZES. + +Now, to the Temple, let us onward move, +And strive t' appease the angry pow'rs above. +Fate yet may have some ills reserv'd in store, +Continu'd curses, to torment us more. +Tho', in their district, Monarchs rule alone, +Jove sways the mighty Monarch on his throne: +Nor can the shining honours which they wear, +Purchase one joy, or save them from one care. + +_Finis._ + +FOOTNOTES: + +[5] The Tigris. + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + +Page 21: Thomas Godfrey's date of birth corrected from 1763 to 1736. + +Page 78: appartment as in original. + +Page 93: "this gloomy goal" as in original. Should perhaps be gloomy gaol. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prince of Parthia, by Thomas Godfrey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCE OF PARTHIA *** + +***** This file should be named 29222-8.txt or 29222-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/2/29222/ + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Prince of Parthia + A Tragedy + +Author: Thomas Godfrey + +Release Date: June 26, 2009 [EBook #29222] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCE OF PARTHIA *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="tnote"><p class="center"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></p> +<p>This e-book contains the text of <i>The Prince of Parthia</i>, extracted from +<b>Representative Plays by American Dramatists: Vol 1, 1765-1819</b>. Comments and +background to all the plays, and links to the other plays are available +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29221/29221-h/29221-h.htm">here</a>.</p> +<p>For your convenience, the transcribers have provided the following links:</p> +<p class="center"> +<a href="#THOMAS_GODFREY_JR"><b>Thomas Godfrey Jr.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ADVERTISEMENT"><b>Advertisement</b></a><br /> +<a href="#DRAMATIS_PERSONAE"><b>Dramatis Personæ</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ACT_I"><b>ACT I.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ACT_II"><b>ACT II.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ACT_III"><b>ACT III.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ACT_IV"><b>ACT IV.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ACT_V"><b>ACT V.</b></a><br /> +</p> +<p>Spelling as in the original has been preserved.</p> +</div> + + + +<h3>THE</h3> + +<h1>PRINCE OF PARTHIA</h1> + + +<h2><i>A TRAGEDY</i></h2> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + + + +<h3 class="gap6"><a name="THOMAS_GODFREY_JR" id="THOMAS_GODFREY_JR"></a>THOMAS GODFREY, +<span class="smcap">Jr.</span></h3> + +<h4>(1736-1763)</h4> + + +<p>Thomas Godfrey, Jr., was born in Philadelphia, on December 4, 1736, +the son of a man who himself won fame as an inventor of the Quadrant. +Godfrey, Senior, was a friend of Benjamin Franklin, the two probably +having been drawn together by their common interest in science. When +Godfrey, Senior, died, December, 1749, it was Franklin who wrote his +obituary notice.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<p>Young Godfrey was a student at the College or Academy of Philadelphia, +and when his education was completed, he became apprenticed to a +watch-maker, remaining in that profession until 1758. As a student at +the Academy, he came under the special influence of Dr. William Smith, +the first Principal or Provost of that institution,<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> and it was Dr. +Smith who not only obtained for Godfrey a lieutenancy with the +Pennsylvania troops in 1758, which sent him in the expedition against +Fort Duquesne, but who, likewise, as the Editor of <i>The American +Magazine</i>, was only too glad to accept and publish some of Godfrey's +poetical effusions.</p> + +<p>That the young man was popular, and that he associated with some of +the most promising figures of the time, will be seen from the fact +that, although he was only twenty-seven when he died, he was counted +among the friends of Benjamin West and John Green, both portrait +painters, of Francis Hopkinson, who was a student at the College of +Philadelphia, and of Nathaniel Evans, a young minister whose loyalty +found outlet after Godfrey's death in the Memorial Edition of +Godfrey's works. Evans himself wrote poems and dialogues. In his +confirmation of the fact that, as a poet, Godfrey was regarded +favourably by the Philadelphians of the time, he quotes from the diary +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>of one Miss Sarah Eve, who referred to him as "our poet."</p> + +<p>Godfrey's reputation, as a young man with musical talents and a +decided taste for painting, has come down to us. Certain it is that, +during all of this time of varied occupation as a watch-maker and a +soldier, he must have been courting the poetic Muse. There are some +who speculate, without authority, on his having been a theatre-goer, +and having become inspired as a playwright by the work of the American +Company, in Philadelphia; especially by the good work of Douglass. +Because of insufficient evidence, that is a question which remains +unproven. Nevertheless, it is certain, from an extant letter written +by Godfrey on November 17, 1759, and quoted by Seilhamer, that he must +have had his attention turned to playwriting as a special art. He says +to his correspondent, writing from North Carolina:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>By the last vessel from this place, I sent you the copy of a +tragedy I finished here, and desired your interest in bringing +it on the stage; I have not yet heard of the vessel's safe +arrival, and believe if she is safe it will be too late for the +company now in Philadelphia. [Meaning, of course, Douglass's +company.]</p></div> + +<p>There are two facts to be noted in this communication: first, that it +was written from North Carolina, where, in 1759, Godfrey had gone on +some plantation business—probably as factor; and second, that it must +have been penned with the idea of immediate production by the actors +in Philadelphia. According to Seilhamer, Godfrey remained in North +Carolina for three years. He did not write the entire manuscript of +"The Prince of Parthia" while living in the South but, as he +definitely states in his letter, finished it soon after his arrival.</p> + +<p>There is no evidence as to why Godfrey sailed to the Island of New +Providence in the last year of his life, and then returned to +Wilmington, N.C. There is no definite statement as to whether he +contracted fever and had a sunstroke on that expedition, or after his +return home. But, nevertheless, he did contract the fever and have a +sunstroke; with the result that he succumbed to his illness, and died +near Wilmington, North Carolina, on August 3, 1763.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<p>After his death, Godfrey's friends decided among themselves that the +young man was too much of a genius for them to allow his productions +to remain scattered and unrecognized. Evidently, correspondence +regarding this must have taken place between Dr. Smith, Nathaniel +Evans, the young minister, and John<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> Green, the portrait painter. For, +in 1765, a book was published, entitled "Juvenile Poems on Various +Subjects, with the Prince of Parthia," printed in Philadelphia by one +Henry Miller.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> The volume contained a life written by Evans, a +critical estimate written by Dr. Smith, of the College of +Philadelphia, and an Elegy from the pen of John Green, who had been +previously complimented by Godfrey in a poem entitled "A Night Piece." +The whole spirit of the publication was one of friendly devotion and +of firm belief in the permanency of Godfrey's position in the literary +world. As was the custom of the time, the Edition was issued under the +patronage of subscribers, a list being included. We know, for example, +that Benjamin Franklin subscribed for twelve copies, his own private, +autographed copy having been put on sale a few years ago.</p> + +<p>As yet, no concerted effort had been made for the production of +Godfrey's "The Prince of Parthia." We do not know if, during this +time, the American Company had any claim on the manuscript, or +whether, after Godfrey's death, it was again submitted to the +theatrical people. But this much we do know, that, very hastily, the +American Company, headed by David Douglass, who was playing at the +Southwark Theatre in Philadelphia, decided that they would put on "The +Prince of Parthia" in place of "The Disappointment; or, the Force of +Credulity," a comic opera which will be noted in my introduction to +John Leacock's "The Fall of British Tyranny." This musical piece had +actually been put into rehearsal in 1767, when it was withdrawn. +Immediately, the <i>Pennsylvania Journal and Weekly Advertiser</i> for +April 23, 1767, contained an advertisement of the forthcoming +production; it ran as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>By Authority./Never Performed before./By the American +Company,/at the New Theatre, in Southwark,/On Friday, the +Twenty-fourth of April, will be/presented, A Tragedy written by +the late ingenious/Mr. <i>Thomas Godfrey</i>, of this city, called +the/Prince of Parthia./The Principal Characters by Mr. +Hallam,/Mr. Douglass, Mr. Wall, Mr. Morris,/Mr. Allyn, Mr. +Tomlinson, Mr. Broad/belt, Mr. Greville, Mrs. Douglass,/Mrs. +Morris, Miss Wainwight, and/Miss Cheer./To which will be added, +A Ballad Opera called/The Contrivances./To begin exactly at +<i>Seven o'clock</i>.—<i>Vivant Rex & Regina.</i>/</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the <i>Pennsylvania Gazette</i>, for the same date, appears an +advertisement, without the cast of characters.</p> + +<p>The production occurred on April 24, 1767.</p> + +<p>Seilhamer gives a probable cast of characters, although only the list +of actors is given in the advertisement. Apart from this, little is +known of the production: whether or not it pleased the theatre-goers +of the time. We can judge, however, from the reading of the play +itself, that there was little of extreme dramatic excellence in the +situations, the chief claim, from the actor's point of view, being the +opportunity to deliver certain very highly coloured, poetical lines +modelled after the manner of the Elizabethan drama.</p> + +<p>In the publication of "The Prince of Parthia," we have the first +printed American tragedy in existence, and in its production we have +one of only two plays, written by Americans, and presented on the +stage before the Revolution. The other play is George Cockings's "The +Conquest of Canada; or, The Siege of Quebec," printed for the author +in 1766, and presented in Philadelphia in 1773. We note, in Dr. F. W. +Atkinson's estimable Bibliography of American Plays in his possession, +that Cockings later described himself as "Camillo Querno, Poet +Laureate to Congress."</p> + +<p>The interest in the early history of the American drama, which has +become evident within recent years, and nowhere more evident than +among the student body in our American colleges, induced the +Zelosophic Literary Society, encouraged by the University of +Pennsylvania, to revive "The Prince of Parthia," which was written by +one of their alumni. The production was consummated on March 26, 1915. +Even though we have no statement as to the actual manner in which the +Douglass Company presented the play originally, we are given every +evidence, by those who witnessed the revival, that the play, while +containing many excellences, was not of a dramatic character according +to modern ideas of stage effectiveness.</p> + +<p>The only portrait of Godfrey known to have been in existence was that +painted by Benjamin West, in his earlier years. It is interesting to +note that in commemoration of the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary +of the original production of this play, Dr. Archibald Henderson, of +the University of North Carolina, issued an <i>édition de luxe</i> of "The +Prince of Parthia," with an extended introduction, historical, +biographical and critical (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1917).</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> A notice appeared in the Pennsylvania <i>Gazette</i>, December +19, 1749. See Scharf and Westcott's "History of Philadelphia" for +references to Godfrey, Sr. Therein is given a picture of his house in +Germantown, Pa. Barlow mentions him in his "Columbiad." A monument to +his memory was erected in Laurel Hill Cemetery, Philadelphia, 1843. +Note that David Rittenhouse, an American dramatist who translated, +from the German, "Lucy Sampson; or, The Unhappy Heiress" (1789), was +likewise a mathematical genius.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Accounts of Dr. Smith are to be found in Henry Simpson's +"Eminent Philadelphians"; Scharf & Westcott's "History of +Philadelphia," ii, 1126. Dr. Smith's "Life and Correspondence," by +Horace Wemyss Smith, was issued in 2 vols., 1879.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Visitors to Wilmington, N.C., will be taken to Old St. +James's Church-yard, where Godfrey lies buried.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Juvenile Poems/on/Various Subjects./With the/Prince of +Parthia,/A/Tragedy,/By the Late/Mr. Thomas Godfrey, Junr./of +Philadelphia./To which is prefixed,/Some Account of the Author and +his Writings./Poeta nascitur non fit. Hor./Philadelphia,/Printed by +Henry Miller, in Second-Street./M DCC LXV.</p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 443px;"> +<img src="images/image_029.png" width="443" height="714" alt="JUVENILE POEMS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. WITH THE PRINCE OF PARTHIA, A TRAGEDY." title="Fac-Simile of Original Title-Page to First Edition" /> +<span class="caption">Fac-Simile of Original Title-Page to First Edition</span> +</div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ADVERTISEMENT" id="ADVERTISEMENT"></a>ADVERTISEMENT</h2> + + +<p>Our Author has made Use of the <i>licentia poetica</i> in the Management of +this Dramatic Piece; and deviates, in a particular or two, from what +is agreed on by Historians: The Queen <i>Thermusa</i> being not the Wife of +King <i>Artabanus</i>, but (according to <i>Tacitus</i>, <i>Strabo</i> and +<i>Josephus</i>) of <i>Phraates</i>; <i>Artabanus</i> being the fourth King of +<i>Parthia</i> after him. Such Lapses are not unprecedented among the +Poets; and will the more readily admit of an Excuse, when the Voice of +History is followed in the Description of Characters.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="DRAMATIS_PERSONAE" id="DRAMATIS_PERSONAE"></a>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</h2> + +<table summary="Dramatis Personae"> +<tr> +<td colspan="3" class="center" style="height:3em;vertical-align:bottom;"> +<span class="smcap">Men.</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Artabanus</span>, King of Parthia.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="width:20%"><span class="smcap">Arsaces</span>,</td> +<td rowspan="3" style="vertical-align:middle;font-size:400%;width:10%">}</td> +<td rowspan="3" style="vertical-align:middle;">his Sons.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">Vardanes</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">Gotarzes</span>,</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Barzaphernes</span>, Lieutenant-Generales, under Arsac.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="width:20%"><span class="smcap">Lysias</span>,</td> +<td rowspan="2" style="vertical-align:middle;font-size:250%;width:10%">}</td> +<td rowspan="2" style="vertical-align:middle;">Officers at Court.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">Phraates</span>,</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Bethas</span>, a Noble Captive.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3" class="center" style="height:3em;vertical-align:bottom;"> +<span class="smcap">Women.</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Thermusa</span>, the Queen.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Evanthe</span>, belov'd by Arsaces.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Cleone</span>, her Confident.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Edessa</span>, Attendant on the Queen.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3" class="center" style="height:3em;vertical-align:bottom;">Guards and Attendants.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3" class="center" style="height:3em;vertical-align:bottom;"><span class="smcap">Scene</span>, <i>Ctesiphon</i>.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap6">THE PRINCE OF PARTHIA</h2> + +<h2><i>A TRAGEDY</i></h2> + + + +<h3 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_I" id="ACT_I"></a>ACT I.</h3> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> I. <i>The Temple of the Sun.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Gotarzes</span> and <span class="smcap">Phraates</span>.</i></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He comes, Arsaces comes, my gallant Brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Like shining Mars in all the pomp of conquest)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Triumphant enters now our joyful gates;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright Victory waits on his glitt'ring car,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shews her fav'rite to the wond'ring croud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Fame exulting sounds the happy name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To realms remote, and bids the world admire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! 'tis a glorious day:—let none presume<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T'indulge the tear, or wear the gloom of sorrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This day shall shine in Ages yet to come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grace the Parthian story.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Glad Ctes'phon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pours forth her numbers, like a rolling deluge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet the blooming Hero; all the ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On either side, as far as sight can stretch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are lin'd with crouds, and on the lofty walls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Innumerable multitudes are rang'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On ev'ry countenance impatience sate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With roving eye, before the train appear'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when they saw the Darling of the Fates,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They rent the air with loud repeated shouts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Mother shew'd him to her infant Son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And taught his lisping tongue to name Arsaces:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en aged Sires, whose sounds are scarcely heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By feeble strength supported, tost their caps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave their murmur to the gen'ral voice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The spacious streets, which lead up to the Temple,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are strew'd with flow'rs; each, with frantic joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His garland forms, and throws it in the way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What pleasure, Phraates, must swell his bosom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the prostrate nation all around him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And know he's made them happy! to hear them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tease the Gods, to show'r their blessings on him!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy Arsaces! fain I'd imitate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy matchless worth, and be a shining joy!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hark! what a shout was that which pierc'd the skies!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seem'd as tho' all Nature's beings join'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hail thy glorious Brother.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Happy Parthia!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now proud Arabia dreads her destin'd chains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While shame and rout disperses all her sons.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Barzaphernes pursues the fugitives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The few whom fav'ring Night redeem'd from slaughter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swiftly they fled, for fear had wing'd their speed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And made them bless the shade which saf'ty gave.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What a bright hope is ours, when those dread pow'rs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who rule yon heav'n, and guide the mov'ments here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall call your royal Father to their joys:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In blest Arsaces ev'ry virtue meets;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's gen'rous, brave, and wise, and good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has skill to act, and noble fortitude<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To face bold danger, in the battle firm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dauntless as a Lion fronts his foe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet is he sway'd by ev'ry tender passion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgiving mercy, gentleness and love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which speak the Hero friend of humankind.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And let me speak, for 'tis to him I owe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That here I stand, and breath the common air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 'tis my pride to tell it to the world.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">One luckless day as in the eager chace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Courser wildly bore me from the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A monst'rous Leopard from a bosky fen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rush'd forth, and foaming lash'd the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fiercely ey'd me as his destin'd quarry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My jav'lin swift I threw, but o'er his head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It erring pass'd, and harmless in the air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spent all its force; my falchin then I seiz'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Advancing to attack my ireful foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When furiously the savage sprung upon me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tore me to the ground; my treach'rous blade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above my hand snap'd short, and left me quite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Defenceless to his rage; Arsaces then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hearing the din, flew like some pitying pow'r,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quickly freed me from the Monster's paws,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drenching his bright lance in his spotted breast.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How diff'rent he from arrogant Vardanes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That haughty Prince eyes with a stern contempt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All other Mortals, and with lofty mien<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He treads the earth as tho' he were a God.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, I believe that his ambitious soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had it but pow'r to its licentious wishes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would dare dispute with Jove the rule of heav'n;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a Titanian son with giant insolence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Match with the Gods, and wage immortal war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Til their red wrath should hurl him headlong down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en to destruction's lowest pit of horror.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Methinks he wears not that becoming joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which on this bright occasion gilds the court;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His brow's contracted with a gloomy frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pensive he stalks along, and seems a prey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pining discontent.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Arsaces he dislikes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For standing 'twixt him, and the hope of Empire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Envy, like a rav'nous Vulture, tears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His canker'd heart, to see your Brother's triumph.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And yet Vardanes owes that hated Brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As much as I; 'twas summer last, as we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were bathing in Euphrates' flood, Vardanes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud of strength would seek the further shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ere he the mid-stream gain'd, a poignant pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shot thro' his well-strung nerves, contracting all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the stiff joints refus'd their wonted aid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loudly he cry'd for help, Arsaces heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thro' the swelling waves he rush'd to save<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His drowning Brother, and gave him life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for the boon the Ingrate pays him hate.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There's something in the wind, for I've observ'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of late he much frequents the Queen's apartment,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fain would court her favour, wild is she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To gain revenge for fell Vonones' death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And firm resolves the ruin of Arsaces.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because that fill'd with filial piety,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To save his Royal Sire, he struck the bold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Presumptuous Traitor dead; nor heeds she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hand which gave her Liberty, nay rais'd her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again to Royalty.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Ingratitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hell-born fiend, how horrid is thy form!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Gods sure let thee loose to scourge mankind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And save them from an endless waste of thunder.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet I've beheld this now so haughty Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bent with distress, and e'en by pride forsook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When following thy Sire's triumphant car,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her tears and ravings mov'd the senseless herd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pity blest their more than savage breasts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the short pleasure of a moment's softness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Father, conquer'd by her charms (for what<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can charm like mourning beauty), soon struck off<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her chains, and rais'd her to his bed and throne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adorn'd the brows of her aspiring Son,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fierce Vonones, with the regal crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of rich Armenia, once the happy rule<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Tisaphernes, her deceased Lord.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he in wasteful war return'd his thanks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Refus'd the homage he had sworn to pay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spread Destruction ev'ry where around,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Til from Arsaces' hand he met the fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His crimes deserv'd.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">As yet your princely Brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has scap'd Thermusa's rage, for still residing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In peaceful times, within his Province, ne'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has fortune blest her with a sight of him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On whom she'd wreck her vengeance.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">She has won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By spells, I think, so much on my fond father,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he is guided by her will alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She rules the realm, her pleasure is a law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All offices and favours are bestow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As she directs.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">But see, the Prince, Vardanes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud Lysias with him, he whose soul is harsh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With jarring discord. Nought but madding rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ruffian-like revenge his breast can know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indeed to gain a point he'll condescend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mask the native rancour of his heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smooth his venom'd tongue with flattery.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Assiduous now he courts Vardanes' friendship,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, how he seems to answer all his gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give him frown for frown.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Let us retire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shun them now; I know not what it means,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But chilling horror shivers o'er my limbs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Lysias I behold.—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> II. <i><span class="smcap">Vardanes</span> and <span class="smcap">Lysias</span>.</i></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12" style="float:left;width:auto;">That shout proclaims</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Shout.</i><br /></div> +<span class="i0">Arsaces' near approach.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Peace, prithee, peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wilt thou still shock me with that hated sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grate harsh discord in my offended ear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou art fond of echoing the name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Join with the servile croud, and hail his triumph.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I hail him? By our glorious shining God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd sooner lose my speech, and all my days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In silence rest, conversing with my thoughts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than hail Arsaces.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Yet, again his name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure there is magic in it, Parthia's drunk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And giddy with the joy; the houses' tops<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With gaping spectators are throng'd, nay wild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They climb such precipices that the eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is dazzl'd with their daring; ev'ry wretch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who long has been immur'd, nor dar'd enjoy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The common benefits of sun and air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Creeps from his lurking place; e'en feeble age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long to the sickly couch confin'd, stalks forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with infectious breath assails the Gods.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O! curse the name, the idol of their joy.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what's that name, that thus they should disturb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ambient air, and weary gracious heav'n<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With ceaseless bellowings? Vardanes sounds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With equal harmony, and suits as well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The loud repeated shouts of noisy joy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can he bid Chaos Nature's rule dissolve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can he deprive mankind of light and day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turn the Seasons from their destin'd course?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, can he do all this, and be a God?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If not, what is his matchless merit? What dares he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vardanes dares not? blush not, noble Prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For praise is merit's due, and I will give it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en 'mid the croud which waits thy Brother's smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd loud proclaim the merit of Vardanes.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forbear this warmth, your friendship urges far.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet know your love shall e'er retain a place<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">In my remembrance. There is something here—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Pointing to his breast.</i><br /></div> +<span class="i0" style="clear:both;">Another time and I will give thee all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, no more.—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">You may command my services,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm happy to obey. Of late your Brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delights in hind'ring my advancement,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ev'ry boaster's rais'd above my merit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Barzaphernes alone commands his ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His oracle in all.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I hate Arsaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' he's my Mother's son, and churchmen say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's something sacred in the name of Brother.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul endures him not, and he's the bane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all my hopes of greatness. Like the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rules the day, and like the night's pale Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My fainter beams are lost when he appears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this because he came into the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A moon or two before me: What's the diff'rence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he alone should shine in Empire's seat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am not apt to trumpet forth my praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or highly name myself, but this I'll speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To him in ought, I'm not the least inferior.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ambition, glorious fever! mark of Kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave me immortal thirst and rule of Empire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why lag'd my tardy soul, why droop'd the wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor forward springing, shot before his speed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To seize the prize?—'Twas Empire—Oh! 'twas Empire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, I must think that of superior mould<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your soul was form'd, fit for a heav'nly state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left reluctant its sublime abode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And painfully obey'd the dread command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Jove's controuling fate forc'd it below.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His soul was earthly, and it downward mov'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift as to the center of attraction.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It might be so—But I've another cause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hate this Brother, ev'ry way my rival;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In love as well as glory he's above me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dote on fair Evanthe, but the charmer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disdains my ardent suit, like a miser<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He treasures up her beauties to himself:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus is he form'd to give me torture ever.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But hark, they've reach'd the Temple,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didst thou observe the croud, their eagerness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each put the next aside to catch a look,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Himself was elbow'd out?—Curse, curse their zeal—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stupid folly!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I'll tell thee, Lysias,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This many-headed monster multitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unsteady is as giddy fortune's wheel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As woman fickle, varying as the wind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-day they this way course, the next they veer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shift another point, the next another.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Curiosity's another name for man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blazing meteor streaming thro' the air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Commands our wonder, and admiring eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With eager gaze we trace the lucent path,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Til spent at length it shrinks to native nothing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the bright stars which ever steady glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unheeded shine, and bless the world below.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> III. <i><span class="smcap">Queen</span> and <span class="smcap">Edessa</span>.</i></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! give me way, the haughty victor comes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surrounded by adoring multitudes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On swelling tides of praise to heav'n they raise him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To deck their idol, they rob the glorious beings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of their splendour.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Edessa.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">My royal Lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chace hence these passions.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Peace, forever peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I not cause to hate this homicide?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas by his cursed hand Vonones fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet fell not as became his gallant spirit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not by the warlike arm of chief renown'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But by a youth, ye Gods, a beardless stripling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stab'd by his dastard falchin from behind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For well I know he fear'd to meet Vonones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As princely warriors meet with open daring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But shrunk amidst his guards, and gave him death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When faint with wounds, and weary with the fight.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Edessa.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With anguish I have heard his hapless fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mourn'd in silence for the gallant Prince.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soft is thy nature, but, alas! Edessa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy heart's a stranger to a mother's sorrows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the pride of all her wishes blasted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fancy cannot paint the storm of grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Despair and anguish, which my breast has known.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! show'r, ye Gods, your torments on Arsaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curs'd be the morn which dawn'd upon his birth.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Edessa.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, I intreat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Away! for I will curse—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! may he never know a father's fondness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or know it to his sorrow, may his hopes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of joy be cut like mine, and his short life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be one continu'd tempest; if he lives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let him be curs'd with jealousy and fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vext with anguish of neglecting scorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May tort'ring hope present the flowing cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then hasty snatch it from his eager thirst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when he dies base treach'ry be the means.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Edessa.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! calm your spirits.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Yes, I'll now be calm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm as the sea when the rude waves are laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nothing but a gentle swell remains;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My curse is heard, and I shall have revenge;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's something here which tells me 'twill be so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And peace resumes her empire o'er my breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vardanes is the Minister of Vengeance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fir'd by ambition, he aspiring seeks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T'adorn his brows with Parthia's diadem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've fann'd the fire, and wrought him up to fury,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Envy shall urge him forward still to dare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And discord be the prelude to destruction,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then this detested race shall feel my hate.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Edessa.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And doth thy hatred then extend so far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That innocent and guilty all alike<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must feel thy dreadful vengeance?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! Edessa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou dost not know e'en half my mighty wrongs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in thy bosom I will pour my sorrows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Edessa.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With secrecy I ever have repaid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your confidence.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I know thou hast; then hear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The changeling King who oft has kneel'd before me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And own'd no other pow'r, now treats me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With ill dissembl'd love mix'd with disdain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A newer beauty rules his faithless heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which only in variety is blest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft have I heard him, when wrapt up in sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wanton fancy rais'd the mimic scene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call with unusual fondness on Evanthe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I have lain neglected by his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Except sometimes in a mistaken rapture<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd clasp me to his bosom.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Edessa.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Oh! Madam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let not corroding jealousy usurp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Royal breast, unnumber'd ills attend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wretch who entertains that fatal guest.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Think not that I'll pursue its wand'ring fires,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more I'll know perplexing doubts and fears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And erring trace suspicion's endless maze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, ah! I doubt no more.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Edessa.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Their shouts approach.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lead me, Edessa, to some peaceful gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some silent shade far from the walks of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There shall the hop'd revenge my thoughts employ,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sooth my sorrows with the coming joy.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> IV. <i><span class="smcap">Evanthe</span> and <span class="smcap">Cleone</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No, I'll not meet him now, for love delights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the soft pleasures of the secret shade,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shuns the noise and tumult of the croud.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How tedious are the hours which bring him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my fond, panting heart! for oh! to those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who live in expectation of the bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time slowly creeps, and ev'ry tardy minute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems mocking of their wishes. Say, Cleone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For you beheld the triumph, 'midst his pomp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did he not seem to curse the empty show,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pageant greatness, enemy to love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which held him from Evanthe? haste, to tell me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feed my gready ear with the fond tale—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, hold—for I shall weary you with questions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ne'er be satisfied—Beware, Cleone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And guard your heart from Love's delusive sweets.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Cleone.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is Love an ill, that thus you caution me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shun his pow'r?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">The Tyrant, my Cleone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Despotic rules, and fetters all our thoughts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! wouldst thou love, then bid adieu to peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then fears will come, and jealousies intrude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ravage your bosom, and disturb your quiet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en pleasure to excess will be a pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once I was free, then my exulting heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was like a bird that hops from spray to spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all was innocence and mirth; but, lo!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Fowler came, and by his arts decoy'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soon the Wanton cag'd. Twice fifteen times<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has Cynthia dipt her horns in beams of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twice fifteen times has wasted all her brightness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since first I knew to love; 'twas on that day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When curs'd Vonones fell upon the plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lovely Victor doubly conquer'd me.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Cleone.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forgive my boldness, Madam, if I ask<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What chance first gave you to Vonones' pow'r?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curiosity thou know'st is of our sex.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That is a task will wake me to new sorrows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet thou attend, and I will tell thee all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arabia gave me birth, my father held<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great Offices at Court, and was reputed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brave, wise and loyal, by his Prince belov'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft has he led his conqu'ring troops, and forc'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From frowning victory her awful honours.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In infancy I was his only treasure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On me he wasted all his store of fondness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! I could tell thee of his wond'rous goodness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His more than father's love and tenderness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thou wouldst jeer, and say the tale was trifling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So did he dote upon me, for in childhood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My infant charms, and artless innocence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blest his fond age, and won on ev'ry heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, oh! from this sprung ev'ry future ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This fatal beauty was the source of all.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Cleone.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis often so, for beauty is a flow'r<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That tempts the hand to pluck it.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Full three times<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has scorching summer fled from cold winter's<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruthless blasts, as oft again has spring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sprightly youth drest nature in her beauties,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since bathing in Niphates'<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> silver stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attended only by one fav'rite maid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As we were sporting on the wanton waves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift from the wood a troop of horsemen rush'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rudely they seiz'd, and bore me trembling off,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain Edessa with her shrieks assail'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heav'ns, for heav'n was deaf to both our pray'rs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wretch whose insolent embrace confin'd me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Like thunder bursting on the guilty soul),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With curs'd Vonones' voice pour'd in my ears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hateful tale of love; for he it seems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had seen me at Arabia's royal court,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And took those means to force me to his arms.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Cleone.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Perhaps you may gain something from the Captives<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your lost Parents.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">This I meant to try,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon as the night hides Nature in her darkness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veil'd in the gloom we'll steal into their prison.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, oh! perhaps e'en now my aged Sire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May 'mongst the slain lie welt'ring on the field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pierc'd like a riddle through with num'rous wounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While parting life is quiv'ring on his lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He may perhaps be calling on his Evanthe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, ye great Pow'rs who boast the name of mercy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye have deny'd me to his latest moments,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all the offices of filial duty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bind his wounds, and wash them with my tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is this, is this your mercy?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Cleone.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Blame not heav'n,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For heav'n is just and kind; dear Lady, drive<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These black ideas from your gentle breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fancy delights to torture the distress'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fill the gloomy scene with shadowy ills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Summon your reason, and you'll soon have comfort.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dost thou name comfort to me, my Cleone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou who know'st all my sorrows? plead no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis reason tells me I am doubly wretched.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Cleone.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But hark, the music strikes, the rites begin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, see, the doors are op'ning.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Let's retire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart is now too full to meet him here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly swift ye hours, till in his arms I'm prest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And each intruding care is hush'd to rest.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> V.</p> + +<div class="hangindent"><p><i>The Scene draws and discovers, in the inner part of the Temple, a +large image of the Sun, with an altar before it. Around Priests and +Attendants.</i> </p></div> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">King, Arsaces, Vardanes, Gotarzes, Phraates, Lysias,</span> with <span class="smcap">Bethas</span> in +chains.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hymn.</span></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Parent of Light, to thee belong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our grateful tributary songs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each thankful voice to thee shall rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And chearful pierce the azure skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While in thy praise all earth combines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Echo in the Chorus joins.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All the gay pride of blooming May,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Lily fair and blushing Rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee their early honours pay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all their heav'nly sweets disclose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The feather'd Choir on ev'ry tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hail thy glorious dawn repair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the sweet sons of harmony<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With Hallelujahs fill the air.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis thou hast brac'd the Hero's arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And giv'n the Love of praise to warm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His bosom, as he onward flies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for his Country bravely dies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine's victory, and from thee springs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ambition's fire, which glows in Kings.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King</span> [<i>coming forward</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus, to the Gods our tributary songs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now, oh! let me welcome once again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My blooming victor to his Father's arms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let me thank thee for our safety: Parthia<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall thank thee too, and give her grateful praise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her Deliverer.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Omnes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">All hail! Arsaces!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thanks to my loyal friends.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes</span> [<i>aside</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Curse, curse the sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en Echo gives it back with int'rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joyful gales swell with the pleasing theme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And waft it far away to distant hills.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O that my breath was poison, then indeed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd hail him like the rest, but blast him too.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My Royal Sire, these honours are unmerited,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath your prosp'rous auspices I fought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright vict'ry to your banners joyful flew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And favour'd for the Sire the happy son.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lenity should grace the victor's laurels,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, here, my gracious Father—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha! 'tis Bethas!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know'st thou, vain wretch, what fate attends on those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who dare oppose the pow'r of mighty Kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom heav'n delights to favour? sure some God<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who sought to punish you for impious deeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas urg'd you forward to insult our arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brave us at our Royal City's gates.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At honour's call, and at my King's command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' it were even with my single arm, again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd brave the multitude, which, like a deluge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'erwhelm'd my gallant handful; yea, wou'd meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Undaunted, all the fury of the torrent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis honour is the guide of all my actions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ruling star by which I steer thro' life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shun the shelves of infamy and vice.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was the thirst of gain which drew you on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis thus that Av'rice always cloaks its views,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' ambition of your Prince you gladly snatch'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As opportunity to fill your coffers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was the plunder of our palaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of our wealthy cities, fill'd your dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And urg'd you on your way; but you have met<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The due reward of your audacity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now shake your chains, shake and delight your ears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the soft music of your golden fetters.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">True, I am fall'n, but glorious was my fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The day was brav'ly fought, we did our best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But victory's of heav'n. Look o'er yon field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See if thou findest one Arabian back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disfigur'd with dishonourable wounds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, here, deep on their bosoms, are engrav'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The marks of honour! 'twas thro' here their souls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flew to their blissful seats. Oh! why did I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Survive the fatal day? To be this slave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be the gaze and sport of vulgar crouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, like a shackl'd tyger, stalk my round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grimly low'r upon the shouting herd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye Gods!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Away with him to instant death.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hear me, my Lord, O, not on this bright day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let not this day of joy blush with his blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor count his steady loyalty a crime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But give him life, Arsaces humbly asks it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And may you e'er be serv'd with honest hearts.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, be it so; hence, bear him to his dungeon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lysias, we here commit him to thy charge.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Welcome my dungeon, but more welcome death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust not too much, vain Monarch, to your pow'r,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know fortune places all her choicest gifts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On ticklish heights, they shake with ev'ry breeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft some rude wind hurls them to the ground.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jove's thunder strikes the lofty palaces,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the low cottage, in humility,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Securely stands, and sees the mighty ruin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What King can boast, to-morrow as to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, happy will I reign? The rising sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May view him seated on a splendid throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, setting, see him shake the servile chain.<br /></span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>Exit guarded.</i></div> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VI.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">King, Arsaces, Vardanes, Gotarzes, Phraates.</span></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus let me hail thee from the croud distinct,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in the exulting voice of gen'ral joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My fainter sounds were lost, believe me, Brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul dilates with joy to see thee thus.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus let me thank thee in this fond embrace.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The next will be my turn, Gods, I had rather<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be circl'd in a venom'd serpent's fold.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, my lov'd Brother, 'tis my humble boon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, when the war next calls you to the field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I may attend you in the rage of battle.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By imitating thy heroic deeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perhaps, I may rise to some little worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath thy care I'll try my feeble wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till taught by thee to soar to nobler heights.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, that's my boy, thy spirit speaks thy birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more I'll turn thee from the road to glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rust in slothfulness, with lazy Gownsmen.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thanks, to my Sire, I'm now completely blest.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But, I've another Brother, where's Vardanes?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ha! what, methinks, he lurks behind the croud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wears a gloom which suits not with the time.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Doubt not my Love, tho' I lack eloquence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To dress my sentiments and catch the ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' plain my manners, and my language rude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My honest heart disdains to wear disguise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then think not I am slothful in the race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, that my Brother springs before my Love.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far be suspicion from me.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">So, 'tis done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thanks to dissembling, all is well again.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now let us forward, to the Temple go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let, with chearful wine, the goblets flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let blink-ey'd Jollity his aid afford,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To crown our triumph, round the festive board:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, let the wretch, whose soul can know a care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far from our joys, to some lone shade repair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In secrecy, there let him e'er remain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brood o'er his gloom, and still increase his pain.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>End of the First Act.</i></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_II" id="ACT_II"></a>ACT II.</h2> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> I. <i>A Prison.</i></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Sun set frowning, and refreshing Eve<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost all its sweets, obscur'd in double gloom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This night shall sleep be stranger to these eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace dwells not here, and slumber flies the shock;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My spirits, like the elements, are warring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mock the tempest with a kindred rage—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, who can joy in nothing, but revenge,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know not those boasted ties of Love and Friendship;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vardanes I regard, but as he give me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some hopes of vengeance on the Prince Arsaces—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, ha! he comes, wak'd by the angry storm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis to my wish, thus would I form designs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Horror should breed beneath the veil of horror,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And darkness aid conspiracies—He's here—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> II. <i><span class="smcap">Vardanes</span> and <span class="smcap">Lysias</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Welcome, my noble Prince.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Thanks, gentle friend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heav'ns! what a night is this!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">'Tis fill'd with terror;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some dread event beneath this horror lurks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ordain'd by fate's irrevocable doom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perhaps Arsaces' fall—and angry heav'n<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speaks it, in thunder, to the trembling world.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Terror indeed! it seems as sick'ning Nature<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had giv'n her order up to gen'ral ruin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Heav'ns appear as one continu'd flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth with her terror shakes, dim night retires,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the red lightning gives a dreadful day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While in the thunder's voice each sound is lost;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear sinks the panting heart in ev'ry bosom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en the pale dead, affrighted at the horror,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As tho' unsafe, start from their marble goals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And howling thro' the streets are seeking shelter.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I saw a flash stream thro' the angry clouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bend its course to where a stately pine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind the garden stood, quickly it seiz'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wrapt it in a fiery fold, the trunk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was shiver'd into atoms, and the branches<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Off were lopt, and wildly scatter'd round.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why rage the elements, they are not curs'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like me? Evanthe frowns not angry on them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind may play upon her beauteous bosom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor fear her chiding, light can bless her sense,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the floating mirror she beholds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those beauties which can fetter all mankind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth gives her joy, she plucks the fragrant rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleas'd takes its sweets, and gazes on its bloom.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My Lord, forget her, tear her from your breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, like the Phœnix gazes on the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strives to soar up to the glorious blaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should never leave Ambition's brightest object,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To turn, and view the beauties of a flow'r.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, Lysias, chide no more, for I have done.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, I'll forget this proud disdainful beauty;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence, with vain love—Ambition, now, alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall guide my actions, since mankind delights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To give me pain, I'll study mischief too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shake the earth, e'en like this raging tempest.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A night like this, so dreadful to behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since my remembrance's birth, I never saw.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">E'en such a night, dreadful as this, they say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My teeming Mother gave me to the world.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence by those sages who, in knowledge rich,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can pry into futurity, and tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What distant ages will produce of wonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My days were deem'd to be a hurricane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My early life prov'd their prediction false;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath a sky serene my voyage began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, to this long uninterrupted calm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Storms shall succeed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Then haste, to raise the tempest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul disdains this one eternal round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where each succeeding day is like the former.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust me, my noble Prince, here is a heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steady and firm to all your purposes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here's a hand that knows to execute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er designs thy daring breast can form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor ever shake with fear.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">And I will use it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come to my bosom, let me place thee here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How happy am I clasping so much virtue!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, by the light, it is my firm belief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One mighty soul in common swells our bosoms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such sameness can't be match'd in diff'rent beings.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Your confidence, my Lord, much honours me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when I act unworthy of your love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May I be hooted from Society,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As tho' disgraceful to the human kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And driv'n to herd among the savage race.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Believe me, Lysias, I do not know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A single thought which tends toward suspicion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For well I know thy worth, when I affront it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the least doubt, may I be ever curs'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With faithless friends, and by his dagger fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom my deluded wishes most would favour.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then let's no longer trifle time away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm all impatience till I see thy brows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright in the glories of a diadem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul is fill'd with anguish when I think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That by weak Princes worn, 'tis thus disgrac'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haste, mount the throne, and, like the morning Sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chace with your piercing beams those mists away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which dim the glory of the Parthian state:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each honest heart desires it, numbers there are<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ready to join you, and support your cause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against th' opposing faction.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Sure some God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bid you thus call me to my dawning honours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And joyful I obey the pleasing summons.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now by the pow'rs of heav'n, of earth and hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most solemnly I swear, I will not know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That quietude which I was wont to know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Til I have climb'd the height of all my wishes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or fell, from glory, to the silent grave.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nobly resolv'd, and spoken like Vardanes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There shone my Prince in his superior lustre.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But, then, Arsaces, he's a fatal bar—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O! could I brush this busy insect from me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which envious strives to rob me of my bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then might I, like some fragrant op'ning flow'r,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spread all my beauties in the face of day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye Gods! why did ye give me such a soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(A soul, which ev'ry way is form'd for Empire),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And damn me with a younger Brother's right?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The diadem would set as well on mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As on the brows of any lordly He;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor is this hand weak to enforce command.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shall I steal into my grave, and give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My name up to oblivion, to be thrown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the common rubbish of the times?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No: Perish first, this happy hated Brother.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I always wear a dagger, for your service,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I need not speak the rest—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When humbly I intreated of your Brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T' attend him as Lieutenant in this war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frowning contempt, he haughtily reply'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He entertain'd not Traitors in his service.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">True, I betray'd Orodes, but with cause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He struck me, like a sorry abject slave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still withheld from giving what he'd promis'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear not Arsaces, believe me, he shall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon his Quietus have—But, see, he comes,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What can this mean? Why at this lonely hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And unattended?—Ha! 'tis opportune—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll in, and stab him now. I heed not what<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The danger is, so I but have revenge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then heap perdition on me.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Hold, awhile—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twould be better could we undermine him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make him fall by Artabanus' doom.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, be it so—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">But let us now retire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We must not be observ'd together here.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis here that hapless Bethas is confin'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who, but yesterday, like angry Jove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When punishing the crimes of guilty men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spread death and desolation all around,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Parthia trembl'd at his name; is now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unfriended and forlorn, and counts the hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrapt in the gloomy horrors of a goal.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How dark, and hidden, are the turns of fate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His rigid fortune moves me to compassion.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O! 'tis a heav'nly virtue when the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can feel the sorrows of another's bosom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It dignifies the man: The stupid wretch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knows not this sensation, is an image,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wants the feeling to make up a life—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll in, and give my aid to sooth his sorrows.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Vardanes</span> and <span class="smcap">Lysias</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let us observe with care, something we, yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May gather, to give to us the vantage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No matter what's the intent.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">How easy 'tis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To cheat this busy, tattling, censuring world!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fame still names our actions, good or bad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As introduc'd by chance, which ofttimes throws<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrong lights on objects; vice she dresses up—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the bright form, and goodliness, of virtue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While virtue languishes, and pines neglected,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rob'd of her lustre—But, let's forward, Lysias—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou know'st each turn in this thy dreary rule,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then lead me to some secret stand, from whence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unnotic'd, all their actions we may view.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here, take your stand behind—See, Bethas comes.<br /></span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>They retire.</i></div> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene V.</span></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To think on Death in gloomy solitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In dungeons and in chains, when expectation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Join'd with serious thought describe him to us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His height'n'd terrors strike upon the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With awful dread; imagination rais'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To frenzy, plunges in a sea of horror,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tastes the pains, the agonies of dying—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ha! who is this, perhaps he bears my fate?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It must be so, but, why this privacy?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VI.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Arsaces</span> and <span class="smcap">Bethas</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Health to the noble Bethas, health and joy!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A steady harden'd villain, one experienc'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his employment; ha! where's thy dagger?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It cannot give me fear; I'm ready, see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My op'ning bosom tempts the friendly steel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fain would I cast this tiresome being off,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like an old garment worn to wretchedness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, strike for I'm prepar'd.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Oh! view me better,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, do I wear the gloomy ruffian's frown?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ha! 'tis the gallant Prince, the brave Arsaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Bethas' Conqueror.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">And Bethas' friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A name I'm proud to wear.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Away—away—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mock with your jester to divert the court,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fit Scene for sportive joys and frolic mirth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think'st thou I lack that manly constancy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which braves misfortune, and remains unshaken?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are these, are these the emblems of thy friendship,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These rankling chains, say, does it gall like these?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, let me taste the bitterness of sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I am reconcil'd to wretchedness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Gods have empty'd all their mighty store,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hoarded Ills, upon my whiten'd age;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now death—but, oh! I court coy death in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a cold maid, he scorns my fond complaining.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis thou, insulting Prince, 'tis thou hast dragg'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul, just rising, down again to earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clogg'd her wings with dull mortality,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hateful bondage! Why—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">A moment hear me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why dost thou, like an angry vengeful ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glide hither to disturb this peaceful gloom?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, dost thou envy me my miseries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My chains and flinty pavement, where I oft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sleep behold the image of the death I wish,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forget my sorrows and heart-breaking anguish?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These horrors I would undisturb'd enjoy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attended only by my silent thoughts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it to see the wretch that you have made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To view the ruins of unhappy Bethas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And triumph in my grief? Is it for this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You penetrate my dark joyless prison?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! do not injure me by such suspicions.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unknown to me are cruel scoffs and jests;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My breast can feel compassion's tenderness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The warrior's warmth, the soothing joys of friendship.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When adverse bold battalions shook the earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And horror triumph'd on the hostile field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sought you with a glorious enmity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And arm'd my brow with the stern frown of war.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now the angry trumpet wakes no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The youthful champion to the lust for blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Retiring rage gives place to softer passions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gen'rous warriors know no longer hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name of foe is lost, and thus I ask<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your friendship.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Ah! why dost thou mock me thus?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let the base coward, he who ever shrinks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trembles, at the slight name of danger,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taunt, and revile, with bitter gibes, the wretched;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brave are ever to distress a friend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' my dear country (spoil'd by wasteful war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her harvests blazing, desolate her towns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And baleful ruin shew'd her haggard face)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call'd out on me to save her from her foes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I obey'd, yet to your gallant prowess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And unmatch'd deeds, I admiration gave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now my country knows the sweets of safety,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freed from her fears; sure now I may indulge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My just esteem for your superior virtue.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes, I must think you what you would be thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For honest minds are easy of belief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And always judge of others by themselves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But often are deceiv'd; yet Parthia breeds not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Virtue much like thine, the barb'rous clime teems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With nought else but villains vers'd in ill.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dissimulation never mark'd my looks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor flatt'ring deceit e'er taught my tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tale of falsehood, to disguise my thoughts:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Virtue, and her fair companion, Truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've ever bow'd, their holy precepts kept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scann'd by them the actions of my life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suspicion surely ne'er disturbs the brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They never know the fears of doubting thoughts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But free, as are the altars of the Gods,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From ev'ry hand receive the sacrifice.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VII.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Arsaces</span>, <span class="smcap">Bethas</span>, <span class="smcap">Evanthe</span> and <span class="smcap">Cleone</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heav'ns! what a gloom hangs round this dreadful place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fit habitation for the guilty mind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! if such terrors wait the innocent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which tread these vaults, what must the impious feel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who've all their crimes to stare them in the face?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Immortal Gods! is this reality?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or mere illusion? am I blest at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is it to torment me that you've rais'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This semblance of Evanthe to my eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is! it is! 'tis she!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha!—what means this?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She faints! she faints! life has forsook its seat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale Death usurps its place—Evanthe, Oh!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awake to life!—Love and Arsaces call!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Off—give her to my arms, my warm embrace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall melt Death's icy chains.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Cleone.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">She lives! she lives!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, on her cheeks the rosy glow returns.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O joy! O joy! her op'ning eyes, again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Break, like the morning sun, a better day.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Evanthe!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Oh! my Father!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha!—her Father!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heav'n thou art kind at last, and this indeed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is recompense for all the ills I've past;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all the sorrows which my heart has known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each wakeful night, and ev'ry day of anguish.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This, this has sweet'n'd all my bitter cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave me once again to taste of joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy which has long been stranger to this bosom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence—hence disgrace—off, ignominy off—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But one embrace—I ask but one embrace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 'tis deny'd.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Oh, yes, around thy neck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll fold my longing arms, thy softer fetters,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus press thee to my happy breast, and kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Away those tears that stain thy aged cheeks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! 'tis too much! it is too much! ye Gods!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's at her utmost stretch, and bursting near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heart-swoln ecstasy; now let me die.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">What marble heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could see this scene unmov'd, nor give a tear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My eyes grow dim, and sympathetic passion<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falls like a gushing torrent on my bosom.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O! happy me, this place, which lately seem'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So fill'd with horror, now is pleasure's circle.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here will I fix my seat; my pleasing task<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall be to cherish thy remaining life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All night I'll keep a vigil o'er thy slumbers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on my breast repose thee, mark thy dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when thou wak'st invent some pleasing tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or with my songs the tedious hours beguile.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still let me gaze, still let me gaze upon thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me strain ev'ry nerve with ravishment,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all my life be center'd in my vision.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see thee thus, to hear thy angel voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is, indeed, a luxury of pleasure!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak, speak again, for oh! 'tis heav'n to hear thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Celestial sweetness dwells on ev'ry accent;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lull me to rest, and sooth my raging joy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy which distracts me with unruly transports.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, by thy dear departed Mother's shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou brightest pattern of all excellence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou who in prattling infancy hast blest me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wou'd not give this one transporting moment,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This fullness of delight, for all—but, ah!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis vile, Ambition, Glory, all is vile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the soft sweets of love and tenderness.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now let me speak, my throbbing heart is full,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll tell thee all—alas! I have forgot—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'T 'as slipt me in the tumult of my joy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet I thought that I had much to say.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! I have curs'd my birth, indeed, I have<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blasphem'd the Gods, with unbecoming passion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arraign'd their Justice, and defy'd their pow'r,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In bitterness, because they had deny'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee to support the weakness of my age.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now no more I'll rail and rave at fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All its decrees are just, complaints are impious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er short-sighted mortals feel, springs from<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their blindness in the ways of Providence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sufficient wisdom 'tis for man to know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the great Ruler is e'er wise and good.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye figur'd stones!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye senseless, lifeless images of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who never gave a tear to others' woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose bosoms never glow'd for others' good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O weary heav'n with your repeated pray'rs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strive to melt the angry pow'rs to pity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ye may truly live.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Oh! how my heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beats in my breast, and shakes my trembling frame!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sink beneath this sudden flood of joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too mighty for my spirits.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">My Evanthe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus in my arms I catch thy falling beauties,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chear thee; and kiss thee back to life again:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus to my bosom I could ever hold thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find new pleasure.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">O! my lov'd Arsaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgive me that I saw thee not before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indeed my soul was busily employ'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor left a single thought at liberty.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thou, I know, art gentleness and love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now I am doubly paid for all my sorrows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all my fears for thee.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Then, fear no more:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give to guilty wretches painful terrors:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose keen remembrance raises horrid forms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shapes that in spite of nature shock their souls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dreadful anguish: but thy gentle bosom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where innocence beams light and gayety,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can never know a fear, now shining joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall gild the pleasing scene.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Alas! this joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear is like a sudden flame shot from<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' expiring taper, darkness will ensue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And double night I dread enclose us round.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anxiety does yet disturb my breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And frightful apprehension shakes my soul.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How shall I thank you, ye bright glorious beings!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall I in humble adoration bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or fill the earth with your resounding praise?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, this I leave to noisy hypocrites,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Mortal's tongue disgraces such a theme;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But heav'n delights where silent gratitude<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mounts each aspiring thought to its bright throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor leaves to language aught; words may indeed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From man to man their sev'ral wants express,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heav'n asks the purer incense of the heart.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'll to the King, ere he retires to rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor will I leave him 'til I've gain'd your freedom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His love will surely not deny me this.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VIII.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Vardanes</span> and <span class="smcap">Lysias</span> come forward.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas a moving scene, e'en my rough nature<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was nighly melted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Hence coward pity—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is joy to them, to me is torture.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now am I rack'd with pains that far exceed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those agonies, which fabling Priests relate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The damn'd endure: The shock of hopeless Love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unblest with any views to sooth ambition,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rob me of all my reas'ning faculties.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arsaces gains Evanthe, fills the throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I am doom'd to foul obscurity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pine and grieve neglected.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">My noble Prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would it not be a master-piece, indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make this very bliss their greatest ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And damn them in the very folds of joy?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This I will try, and stretch my utmost art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unknown is yet the means—We'll think on that—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Success may follow if you'll lend your aid.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The storm still rages—I must to the King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And know what further orders ere he sleeps:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon I'll return, and speak my mind more fully.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Haste, Lysias, haste, to aid me with thy council;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For without thee, all my designs will prove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like night and chaos, darkness and confusion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to thy word shall light and order spring.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let coward Schoolmen talk of Virtue's rules,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And preach the vain Philosophy of fools;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Court eager their obscurity, afraid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To taste a joy, and in some gloomy shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dream o'er their lives, while in a mournful strain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They sing of happiness they never gain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But form'd for nobler purposes I come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To gain a crown, or else a glorious tomb.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center"><i>End of the Second Act.</i></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_III" id="ACT_III"></a>ACT III.</h2> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span> <i>The Palace.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Queen</span> and <span class="smcap">Edessa</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Talk not of sleep to me, the God of Rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disdains to visit where disorder reigns;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not beds of down, nor music's softest strains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can charm him when 'tis anarchy within.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He flies with eager haste the mind disturb'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sheds his blessings where the soul's in peace.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Edessa.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, hear me, Madam!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Hence, away, Edessa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thou know'st not the pangs of jealousy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, has he not forsook my bed, and left me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a lone widow mourning to the night?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This, with the injury his son has done me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I forgive, may heav'n in anger show'r<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its torments on me—Ha! isn't that the King!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Edessa.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is your Royal Lord, great Artabanus.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leave me, for I would meet him here alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Something is lab'ring in my breast—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">King</span> and <span class="smcap">Queen</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">This leads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fair Evanthe's chamber—Ha! the Queen.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why dost thou start? so starts the guilty wretch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, by some watchful eye, prevented from<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His dark designs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Prevented! how, what mean'st thou?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Art thou then so dull? cannot thy heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy changeling heart, explain my meaning to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or must upbraiding 'wake thy apprehension?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! faithless, tell me, have I lost those charms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which thou so oft hast sworn could warm old age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tempt the frozen hermit from his cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To visit once again our gayer world?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This, thou hast sworn, perfidious as thou art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand times; as often hast thou sworn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eternal constancy, and endless love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet ev'ry time was perjur'd.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Sure, 'tis frenzy.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Indeed, 'tis frenzy, 'tis the height of madness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I have wander'd long in sweet delusion.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length the pleasing Phantom chang'd its form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left me in a wilderness of woe.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Prithee, no more, dismiss those jealous heats;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love must decay, and soon disgust arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where endless jarrings and upbraidings damp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gentle flame, which warms the lover's breast.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! grant me patience heav'n! and dost thou think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By these reproaches to disguise thy guilt?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, 'tis in vain, thy art's too thin to hide it.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Curse on the marriage chain!—the clog, a wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who still will force and pall us with the joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' pow'r is wanting, and the will is cloy'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still urge the debt when Nothing's left to pay.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ha! dost thou own thy crime, nor feel the glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of conscious shame?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Why should I blush, if heav'n<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has made me as I am, and gave me passions?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blest only in variety, then blame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Gods, who form'd my nature thus, not me.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! Traitor! Villain!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Hence—away—<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">No more I'll wage a woman's war with words.</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Exit.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2" style="clear:both;"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down, down ye rising passions, give me ease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or break my heart, for I must yet be calm—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, yet, revenge, our Sex's joy, is mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all the Gods! he lives not till the morn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who slights my love, shall sink beneath my hate.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Queen</span> and <span class="smcap">Vardanes</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What, raging to the tempest?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Away!—away!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, I will rage—a tempest's here within,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the trifling of the noisy elements.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blow ye loud winds, burst with your violence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ye but barely imitate the storm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wildly rages in my tortur'd breast—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King—the King—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Ha! what?—the King?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Evanthe!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You talk like riddles, still obscure and short,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me some cue to guide me thro' this maze.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye pitying pow'rs!—oh! for a poison, some<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curs'd deadly draught, that I might blast her beauties,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rob her eyes of all their fatal lustre.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What, blast her charms?—dare not to think of it—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shocking impiety;—the num'rous systems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which gay creation spreads, bright blazing suns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all th' attendant planets circling round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are not worth half the radiance of her eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's heav'n's peculiar care, good spir'ts hover<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round, a shining band, to guard her beauties.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Be they watchful then: for should remissness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taint the guard, I'll snatch the opportunity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hurl her to destruction.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Dread Thermusa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, what has rous'd this tumult in thy soul?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What dost thou rage with unabating fury,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild as the winds, loud as the troubl'd sea?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes, I will tell thee—Evanthe—curse her—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With charms—Would that my curses had the pow'r<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To kill, destroy, and blast where e'er I hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then would I curse, still curse, till death should seize<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dying accents on my falt'ring tongue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So should this world, and the false changeling man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be buried in one universal ruin.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still err'st thou from the purpose.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Ha! 'tis so—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes I will tell thee—for I know fond fool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deluded wretch, thou dotest on Evanthe—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be that thy greatest curse, be curs'd like me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With jealousy and rage, for know, the King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy father, is thy rival.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Vardanes</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha! my rival!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How knew she that?—yet stay—she's gone—my rival,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What then? he is Arsaces' rival too.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ha!—this may aid and ripen my designs—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could I but fire the King with jealousy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then accuse my Brother of Intrigues<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the state—ha!—join'd with Bethas, and<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Confed'rate with th' Arabians—'tis most likely<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That jealousy would urge him to belief.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll sink my claim until some fitter time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Til opportunity smiles on my purpose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lysias already has receiv'd the mandate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Bethas' freedom: Let them still proceed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This harmony shall change to discord soon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fortune methinks of late grows wond'rous kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She scarcely leaves me to employ myself.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene V.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">King</span>, <span class="smcap">Arsaces</span>, <span class="smcap">Vardanes</span>.</p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But where's Evanthe? Where's the lovely Maid?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the cold pavement, by her aged Sire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dear companion of his solitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sits, nor can persuasion make her rise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in the wild extravagance of joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She weeps, then smiles, like April's sun, thro' show'rs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While with strain'd eyes he gazes on her face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cries, in ecstacy, "Ye gracious pow'rs!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is too much, it is too much to bear!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then clasps her to his breast, while down his cheeks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Large drops each other trace, and mix with hers.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy tale is moving, for my eyes o'erflow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How slow does Lysias with Evanthe creep!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So moves old time when bringing us to bliss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now war shall cease, no more of war I'll have,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death knows satiety, and pale destruction<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turns loathing from his food, thus forc'd on him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The triffling dust, the cause of all this ruin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The trade of death shall urge no more.—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VI.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">King</span>, <span class="smcap">Arsaces</span>, <span class="smcap">Vardanes</span>, <span class="smcap">Evanthe</span>, <span class="smcap">Lysias</span>.</p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Evanthe!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See pleasure's goddess deigns to dignify<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The happy scene, and make our bliss complete.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Venus, from her heav'nly seat, descends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bless the gay Cythera with her presence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand smiling graces wait the goddess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand little loves are flutt'ring round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And joy is mingl'd with the beauteous train.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O! Royal Sir, thus lowly to the ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bend, in humble gratitude, accept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My thanks, for this thy goodness, words are vile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T' express the image of my lively thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And speak the grateful fulness of my heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All I can say, is that I now am happy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that thy giving hand has made me blest.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O! rise, Evanthe rise, this lowly posture<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suits not with charms like thine, they should command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ev'ry heart exult in thy behests;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, where's thy aged Sire?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">This sudden turn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fortune has so wrought upon his frame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His limbs could not support him to thy presence.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This, this is truly great, this is the Hero,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like heav'n, to scatter blessings 'mong mankind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And e'er delight in making others happy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold is the praise which waits the victor's triumph<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Who thro' a sea of blood has rush'd to glory),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the o'erflowings of a grateful heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By obligations conquer'd: Yet, extend<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Thy bounty unto me.</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Kneels.</i></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha! rise Arsaces.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not till you grant my boon.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Speak, and 'tis thine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wide thro' our kingdom let thy eager wishes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Search for some jewel worthy of thy seeing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Something that's fit to show the donor's bounty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by the glorious sun, our worship'd God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shalt not have denial; e'en my crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall gild thy brows with shining beams of Empire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With pleasure I'll resign to thee my honours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I long for calm retirement's softer joys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Long may you wear it, grant it bounteous heav'n,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And happiness attend it; 'tis my pray'r<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That daily rises with the early sweets<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of nature's incense, and the lark's loud strain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis not the unruly transport of ambition<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That urges my desires to ask your crown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the vain wretch, who prides in gay dominion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who thinks not of the great ones' weighty cares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enjoy his lofty wish, wide spreading rule.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The treasure which I ask, put in the scale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would over-balance all that Kings can boast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Empire and diadems.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Away, that thought—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Name it, haste—speak.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">For all the dang'rous toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thirst, hunger, marches long that I've endur'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all the blood I've in thy service spent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reward me with Evanthe.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha! what said'st thou?—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The King is mov'd, and angry bites his lip.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Thro' my benighted soul all-cheering hope</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Aside.</i><br /></div> +<span class="i0">Beams, like an orient sun, reviving joy.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The stern Vonones ne'er could boast a merit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But loving her.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Ah! curse the hated name—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, I remember when the fell ruffian<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Directed all his fury at my life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then sent, by pitying heav'n, t' assert the right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of injur'd Majesty, thou, Arsaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taught him the duty he ne'er knew before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laid the Traitor dead.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">My Royal Sire!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My Liege, the Prince still kneels.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10" style="float:left;width:auto;">Ha!—rebel, off—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Strikes him.</i></div> +<span class="i0">What, Lysias, did I strike thee? forgive my rage—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name of curs'd Vonones fires my blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gives me up to wrath.—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I am your slave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sway'd by your pleasure—when I forget it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May this keen dagger, which I mean to hide<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Deep in his bosom, pierce my vitals thro'.</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Aside.</i></div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span><br /> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Didst thou not name Evanthe?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I did, my Lord!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, say, whom should I name but her, in whom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul has center'd all her happiness?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor canst thou blame me, view her wond'rous charms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's all perfection; bounteous heav'n has form'd her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be the joy, and wonder of mankind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But language is too vile to speak her beauties.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here ev'ry pow'r of glowing fancy's lost:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose blush secure, ye lilies still enjoy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your silver whiteness, I'll not rob your charms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To deck the bright comparison; for here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It sure must fail.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10" style="float:left;width:auto;">He's wanton in her praise—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Aside.</i><br /></div> +<span class="i0">I tell thee, Prince, hadst thou as many tongues,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As days have wasted since creation's birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were too few to tell the mighty theme.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">I'm lost! I'm lost!</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Aside.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Then I'll be dumb for ever.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O rash and fatal oath! is there no way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No winding path to shun this precipice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But must I fall and dash my hopes to atoms?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain I strive, thought but perplexes me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet shews no hold to bear me up—now, hold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart a while—she's thine—'tis done.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">In deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prostration, I thank my Royal Father.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A sudden pain shoots thro' my trembling breast—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lend me thy arm Vardanes—cruel pow'rs!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VII.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Arsaces</span> and <span class="smcap">Evanthe</span>.</i></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe</span> [<i>after a pause</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">E'er since the dawn of my unhappy life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy never shone serenely on my soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still something interven'd to cloud my day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me, ye pow'rs, unfold the hidden crime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For which I'm doom'd to this eternal woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus still to number o'er my hours with tears?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Gods are just I know, nor are decrees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hurry shuffl'd out, but where the bolt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Takes its direction justice points the mark.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still in vain I search within my breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I find no sins are there to shudder at—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nought but the common frailties of our natures.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arsaces,—Oh!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Ha! why that look of anguish?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why didst thou name me with that sound of sorrow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! say, why stream those gushing tears so fast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From their bright fountain? sparkling joy should now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be lighten'd in thine eye, and pleasure glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon thy rosy cheek;—ye sorrows hence—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis love shall triumph now.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12" style="float:left;width:auto;">Oh!</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Sighs.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">What means that sigh?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me why heaves thy breast with such emotion?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some dreadful thought is lab'ring for a vent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haste, give it loose, ere strengthen'd by confinement<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It wrecks thy frame, and tears its snowy prison.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is sorrow then so pleasing that you hoard it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With as much love, as misers do their gold?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me my share of sorrows.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ah! too soon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll know what I would hide.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Be it from thee—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dreadful tale, when told by thee, shall please;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haste, to produce it with its native terrors,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My steady soul shall still remain unshaken;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For who when bless'd with beauties like to thine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would e'er permit a sorrow to intrude?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far hence in darksome shades does sorrow dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where hapless wretches thro' the awful gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Echo their woes, and sighing to the winds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Augment with tears the gently murm'ring stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ne'er disturbs such happiness as mine.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! 'tis not all thy boasted happiness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can save thee from disquietude and care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then build not too securely on these joys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For envious sorrow soon will undermine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let the goodly structure fall to ruin.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I charge thee, by our mutual vows, Evanthe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me, nor longer keep me in suspense:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me to know the utmost rage of fate.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then know—impossible!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha! dost thou fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shock me?—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Know, thy Father—loves Evanthe.—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loves thee?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Yea, e'en to distraction loves me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft at my feet he's told the moving tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And woo'd me with the ardency of youth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I pitied him indeed, but that was all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou would'st have pitied too.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">I fear 'tis true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand crouding circumstances speak it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye cruel Gods! I've wreck'd a Father's peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! bitter thought!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Didst thou observe, Arsaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How reluctant he gave me to thy arms?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes, I observ'd that when he gave thee up,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seem'd as tho' he gave his precious life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who'd forego the heav'n of thy love?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rest on thy soft swelling breast, and in<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet slumbers sooth each sharp intruding care?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! it were bliss, such as immortals taste,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To press thy ruby lips distilling sweets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or circl'd in thy snowy arms to snatch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A joy, that Gods——<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Come, then, my much-lov'd Prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let's seek the shelter of some kind retreat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy Arabia opens wide her arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There may we find some friendly solitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far from the noise and hurry of the Court.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ambitious views shall never blast our joys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or tyrant Fathers triumph o'er our wills:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There may we live like the first happy pair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cloth'd in primeval innocence secure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our food untainted by luxurious arts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plain, simple, as our lives, shall not destroy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The health it should sustain; while the clear brook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Affords the cooling draught our thirsts to quench.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, hand in hand, we'll trace the citron grove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While with the songsters' round I join my voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hush thy cares and calm thy ruffl'd soul:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, on some flow'ry bank reclin'd, my strains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall captivate the natives of the stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While on its crystal lap ourselves we view.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I see before us a wide sea of sorrows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' angry waves roll forward to o'erwhelm us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black clouds arise, and the wind whistles loud.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But yet, oh! could I save thee from the wreck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou beauteous casket, where my joys are stor'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the storm rage with double violence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiling I'd view its wide extended horrors.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis not enough that we do know the ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, shall we calmly see the tempest rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seek no shelter from th' inclement sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But bid it rage?—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha! will he force thee from me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, tear thee from my fond and bleeding heart?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And must I lose thee ever? dreadful word!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never to gaze upon thy beauties more?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never to taste the sweetness of thy lips?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never to know the joys of mutual love?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never!—Oh! let me lose the pow'r of thinking,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thought is near allied to desperation.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, cruel Sire—why did you give me life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And load it with a weight of wretchedness?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take back my being, or relieve my sorrows—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ha! art thou not Evanthe?—Art thou not<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">The lovely Maid, who bless'd the fond Arsaces?—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Raving.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, my lov'd Lord, recall your scatter'd spir'ts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! I fear your senses are unsettl'd.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes, I would leave this dull and heavy sense.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me grow mad; perhaps, I then may gain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some joy, by kind imagination form'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond reality.—O! my Evanthe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why was I curs'd with empire? born to rule?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would I had been some humble Peasant's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou some Shepherd's daughter on the plain;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My throne some hillock, and my flock my subjects,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My crook my sceptre, and my faithful dog<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My only guard; nor curs'd with dreams of greatness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At early dawn I'd hail the coming day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And join the lark the rival of his lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At sultry noon to some kind shade repair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus joyful pass the hours, my only care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To guard my flock, and please the yielding Fair.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VIII.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">King.</span>—<span class="smcap">Vardanes</span> behind the Scene.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I will not think, to think is torment—Ha!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, how they twine! ye furies cut their hold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now their hot blood beats loud to love's alarms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sigh presses sigh, while from their sparkling eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flashes desire—Oh! ye bright heav'nly beings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who pitying bend to suppliant Lovers' pray'rs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aid them in extremity, assist me!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus, for the Trojan, mourn'd the Queen of Carthage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, on the shore she raving stood, and saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His navy leave her hospitable shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain she curs'd the wind which fill'd their sails,<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">And bore the emblem of its change away.</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Comes forward.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vardanes—Ha!—come here, I know thou lov'st me.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I do, my Lord; but, say, what busy villain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Durst e'er approach your ear, with coz'ning tales,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And urge you to a doubt?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">None, none believe me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll ne'er oppress thy love with fearful doubt—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little nigher—let me lean upon thee—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou be my support—for now I mean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T' unbosom to thee free without restraint:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Search all the deep recesses of my soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And open ev'ry darling thought before thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which long I've secreted with jealous care.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray, mark me well.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I will, my Royal Sire.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On Anna thus reclin'd the love-sick Dido;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus to her cheek laid hers with gentle pressure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wet her sister with a pearly show'r,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which fell from her sad eyes, then told her tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While gentle Anna gave a pitying tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And own'd 'twas moving—thou canst pity too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know thy nature tender and engaging.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tell me, my gracious Lord, what moves you thus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why is your breast distracted with these tumults?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teach me some method how to sooth your sorrows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give your heart its former peace and joy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Instruct thy lov'd Vardanes.—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Yes, I'll tell thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But listen with attention while I speak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet I know 'twill shock thy gentle soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And horror o'er thee 'll spread his palsy hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, my lov'd Son! thou fondness of my age!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art the prop of my declining years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thee alone I find a Father's joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all my offspring: but Arsaces—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Ha!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Brother!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Ay—why dost start?—thy Brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pursues me with his hate: and, while warm life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rolls the red current thro' my veins, delights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see me tortur'd; with an easy smile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He meets my suff'rings, and derides my pain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Oh!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What means that hollow groan?—Vardanes, speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death's image fits upon thy pallid cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While thy low voice sounds as when murmurs run<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' lengthen'd vaults—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10" style="float:left;width:auto;">O! my foreboding thoughts.</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Aside.</i><br /></div> +<span class="i0">'Twas this disturb'd my rest; when sleep at night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lock'd me in slumbers; in my dreams I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Brother's crime—yet, death!—it cannot be—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ha!—what was that?—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">O! my dread Lord, some Villain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bred up in lies, and train'd to treach'ry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has injur'd you by vile reports, to stain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Princely Brother's honour.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Thou know'st more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy looks confess what thou in vain wouldst hide—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hast thou then conspir'd against me too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sworn concealment to your practices?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy guilt—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha! guilt!—what guilt?—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Nay, start not so—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll know your purposes, spite of thy art.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O! ye great Gods! and is it come to this?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Royal Father call your reason home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drive these loud passions hence, that thus deform you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Brother—Ah! what shall I say?—My Brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure loves you as he ought.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha! as he ought?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hell blister thy evasive tongue—I'll know it—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will; I'll search thy breast, thus will I open<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A passage to your secrets—yet resolv'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet steady in your horrid villany—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis fit that I from whom such monsters sprung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more should burthen earth—Ye Parricides!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here plant your daggers in this hated bosom—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here rive my heart, and end at once my sorrows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I gave ye being, that's the mighty crime.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I can no more—here let me bow in anguish—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think not that I e'er join'd in his designs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because I have conceal'd my knowledge of them:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I meant, by pow'rful reason's friendly aid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To turn him from destruction's dreadful path,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bring him to a sense of what he ow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To you as King and Father.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Say on—I'll hear.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He views thy sacred life with envious hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As 'tis a bar to his ambitious hopes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the bright throne of Empire his plum'd wishes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seat him, while on his proud aspiring brows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He feels the pleasing weight of Royalty.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when he wakes from these his airy dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Delusions form'd by the deceiver hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To raise him to the glorious height of greatness),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then hurl him from proud Empire to subjection.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild wrath will quickly swell his haughty breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon as he finds 'tis but a shadowy blessing.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas fav'ring accident discover'd to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that I know; this Evening as I stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone, retir'd, in the still gallery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That leads up to th' appartment of my Brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T' indulge my melancholy thoughts,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Proceed—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A wretch approach'd with wary step, his eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spoke half his tale, denoting villany.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hollow murmurs thus he question'd me—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was I the Prince?—I answer'd to content him—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then in his hand he held this paper forth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Take this," says he, "this Bethas greets thee with,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep but your word our plot will meet success."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I snatch'd it with more rashness than discretion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which taught him his mistake. In haste he drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aim'd his dagger at my breast, but paid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His life, a forfeit, for his bold presuming.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Villain! Villain!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Here, read this, my Lord—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I read it, and cold horror froze my blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shook me like an ague.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha!—what's this?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Doubt not Arabia's aid, set me but free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll easy pass on the old cred'lous King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fair Evanthe's Father."—Thus to atoms—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! could I tear these cursed traitors thus.<br /></span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>Tears the paper into pieces.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Curses avail you nothing, he has pow'r,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And may abuse it to your prejudice.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am resolv'd—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Tho' Pris'ner in his camp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, Bethas was attended like a Prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As tho' he still commanded the Arabians.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis true, when they approach'd the royal city,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He threw him into chains to blind our eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shallow artifice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">That is a Truth.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, yet, he is your Son.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ah! that indeed—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, that still heightens his impiety,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rush to empire thro' his Father's blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in return of life, to give him death.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! I am all on fire, yes I must tear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These folds of venom from me.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Sure 'twas Lysias<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That cross'd the passage now.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">King.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">'Tis to my wish.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll in, and give him orders to arrest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My traitor Son and Bethas—Now Vardanes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indulge thy Father in this one request—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seize, with some horse, Evanthe, and bear her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To your command—Oh! I'll own my weakness—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I love with fondness mortal never knew—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not Jove himself, when he forsook his heav'n,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in a brutal shape disgrac'd the God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'er lov'd like me.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I will obey you, Sir.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene IX.</span></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'll seize her, but I'll keep her for myself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It were a sin to give her to his age—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To twine the blooming garland of the spring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around the sapless trunks of wither'd oaks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The night, methinks, grows ruder than it was,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus should it be, thus nature should be shock'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Prodigies, affrighting all mankind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foretell the dreadful business I intend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The earth should gape, and swallow cities up,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shake from their haughty heights aspiring tow'rs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And level mountains with the vales below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sun amaz'd should frown in dark eclipse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And light retire to its unclouded heav'n;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While darkness, bursting from her deep recess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should wrap all nature in eternal night.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ambition, glorious fever of the mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis that which raises us above mankind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shining mark which bounteous heav'n has gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From vulgar souls distinguishing the brave.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>End of the Third Act.</i></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_IV" id="ACT_IV"></a>ACT IV.</h2> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span> <i>A Prison.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Gotarzes</span> and <span class="smcap">Phraates</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! fly my Prince, for safety dwells not here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence let me urge thy flight with eager haste.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Last night thy Father sigh'd his soul to bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Base murther'd—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Murther'd? ye Gods!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Alas! 'tis true.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stabb'd in his slumber by a traitor's hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I scarce can speak it—horror choaks my words—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lysias it was who did the damned deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Urg'd by the bloody Queen, and his curs'd rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because the King, thy Sire, in angry mood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once struck him on his foul dishonest cheek.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suspicion gave me fears of this, when first<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard, the Prince, Arsaces, was imprison'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By fell Vardanes' wiles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Oh! horror! horror!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hither I came to share my Brother's sorrows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mingle tears, and give him sigh for sigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But this is double, double weight of woe.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis held as yet a secret from the world.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frighted by hideous dreams I shook off sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as I mus'd the garden walks along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' the deep gloom, close in a neighb'ring walk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vardanes with proud Lysias I beheld,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still eager in discourse they saw not me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For yet the early dawn had not appear'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sought a secret stand, where hid from view,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard stern Lysias, hail the Prince Vardanes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Parthia's dreaded Lord!—"'Tis done", he cry'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"'Tis done, and Artabanus is no more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blow he gave me is repay'd in blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now shall the morn behold two rising suns:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vardanes thou, our better light, shalt bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright day and joy to ev'ry heart."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Why slept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your vengeance, oh! ye righteous Gods?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Then told<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tale, so fill'd with bloody circumstance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this damn'd deed, that stiffen'd me with horror.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vardanes seem'd to blame the hasty act,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As rash, and unadvis'd, by passion urg'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which never yields to cool reflection's place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, being done, resolv'd it secret, lest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The multitude should take it in their wise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Authority to pry into his death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arsaces was, by assassination,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doom'd to fall. Your name was mention'd also—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But hurried by my fears away, I left<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rest unheard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What can be done?—Reflection, why wilt thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsake us, when distress is at our heels?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Phraates, help me, aid me with thy council.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then stay not here, fly to Barzaphernes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His conqu'ring troops are at a trivial distance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon will you reach the camp; he lov'd your Brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And your Father with affection serv'd; haste<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your flight, whilst yet I have the city-guard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Lysias I expect takes my command.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I to the camp dispatch'd a trusty slave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the morn had spread her blushing veil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Away, you'll meet the Gen'ral on the road,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On such a cause as this he'll not delay.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I thank your love—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Phraates</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I'll wait behind, my stay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May aid the cause; dissembling I must learn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Necessity shall teach me how to vary<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My features to the looks of him I serve.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll thrust myself disguis'd among the croud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fill their ears with murmurs of the deed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whisper all is not well, blow up the sparks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of discord, and it soon will flame to rage.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Queen</span> and <span class="smcap">Lysias</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Haste, and shew me to the Prince Arsaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delay not, see the signet of Vardanes.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Royal Thermusa, why this eagerness?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This tumult of the soul?—what means this dagger?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ha!—I suspect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Hold—for I'll tell thee, Lysias.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis—oh! I scarce can speak the mighty joy—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall be greatly blest in dear revenge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis vengeance on Arsaces—yes, this hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall urge the shining poniard to his heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give him death—yea, give the ruffian death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So shall I smile on his keen agonies.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ha! am I robb'd of all my hopes of vengeance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall I then calmly stand with all my wrongs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see another bear away revenge?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For what can Lysias ask revenge, to bar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Queen of hers?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Was I not scorn'd, and spurn'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With haughty insolence? like a base coward<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Refus'd what e'er I ask'd, and call'd a boaster?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My honour sullied, with opprobrious words,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which can no more its former brightness know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Til, with his blood, I've wash'd the stains away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, shall I then not seek for glorious vengeance?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what is this, to the sad Mother's griefs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hope cut off, rais'd up with pain and care?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hadst thou e'er supported the lov'd Prattler?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hadst thou like me hung o'er his infancy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wasting in wakeful mood the tedious night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watch'd his sickly couch, far mov'd from rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waiting his health's return?—Ah! hadst thou known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The parent's fondness, rapture, toil and sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joy his actions gave, and the fond wish<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of something yet to come, to bless my age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lead me down with pleasure to the grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wouldst not thus talk lightly of my wrongs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I delay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">To thee I then submit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be sure to wreck a double vengeance on him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If that thou knowst a part in all his body,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where pain can most be felt, strike, strike him there—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let him know the utmost height of anguish.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is a joy to think that he shall fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' 'tis another hand which gives the blow.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Arsaces</span> and <span class="smcap">Bethas</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why should I linger out my joyless days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When length of hope is length of misery?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope is a coz'ner, and beguiles our cares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cheats us with empty shews of happiness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift fleeting joys which mock the faint embrace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We wade thro' ills pursuing of the meteor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet are distanc'd still.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ah! talk not of hope—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope fled when bright Astræa spurn'd this earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sought her seat among the shining Gods;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Despair, proud tyrant, ravages my breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And makes all desolation.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">How can I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold those rev'rent sorrows, see those cheeks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moist with the dew which falls from thy sad eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor imitate distraction's frantic tricks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And chace cold lifeless reason from her throne?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am the fatal cause of all this sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spring of ills,—to know me is unhappiness;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mis'ry, like a hateful plague, pursues<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My wearied steps, and blasts the springing verdure.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No;—It is I that am the source of all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is my fortune sinks you to this trouble;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before you shower'd your gentle pity on me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You shone the pride of this admiring world.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Evanthe springs from me, whose fatal charms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Produces all this ruin.—Hear me heav'n!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If to another love she ever yields,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stains her soul with spotted falsehood's crime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If e'en in expectation tastes a bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor joins Arsaces with it, I will wreck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My vengeance on her, so that she shall be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dread example to all future times.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! curse her not, nor threaten her with anger,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is all gentleness, yet firm to truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blest with ev'ry pleasing virtue, free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From levity, her sex's character.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She scorns to chace the turning of the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Varying from point to point.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I love her, ye Gods!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I need not speak the greatness of my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each look which straining draws my soul to hers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Denotes unmeasur'd fondness; but mis'ry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a fretful peevish child, can scarce tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What it would wish, or aim at.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Immortals, hear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus do I bow my soul in humble pray'r—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, King of beings, in whose breath is fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Show'r on Evanthe all thy choicest blessings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bless her with excess of happiness;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If yet, there is one bliss reserv'd in store,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And written to my name, oh! give it her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give me all her sorrows in return.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Rise, 'rise my Prince, this goodness o'erwhelms me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's too unworthy of so great a passion.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I know not what it means, I'm not as usual,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ill-boding cares, and restless fears oppress me,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And horrid dreams disturb, and fright, my slumbers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But yesternight, 'tis dreadful to relate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en now I tremble at my waking thoughts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methought, I stood alone upon the shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, at my feet, there roll'd a sea of blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High wrought, and 'midst the waves, appear'd my Father,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Struggling for life; above him was Vardanes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pois'd in the air, he seem'd to rule the storm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, now and then, would push my Father down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for a space he'd sink beneath the waves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then, all gory, rise to open view,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His voice in broken accents reach'd my ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bade me save him from the bloody stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' the red billows eagerly I rush'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sudden woke, benum'd with chilling fear.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Bethas.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Most horrible indeed!—but let it pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis but the offspring of a mind disturb'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For sorrow leaves impressions on the fancy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which shew most fearful to us lock'd in sleep.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thermusa! ha!—what can be her design?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She bears this way, and carries in her looks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An eagerness importing violence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Retire—for I would meet her rage alone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene V.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Arsaces</span> and <span class="smcap">Queen</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What means the proud Thermusa by this visit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stoops heav'n-born pity to a breast like thine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pity adorns th' virtuous, but ne'er dwells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where hate, revenge, and rage distract the soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure, it is hate that hither urg'd thy steps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To view misfortune with an eye of triumph.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know thou lov'st me not, for I have dar'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To cross thy purposes, and, bold in censure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spoke of thy actions as they merited.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Besides, this hand 'twas slew the curs'd Vonones.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And darst thou insolent to name Vonones?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To heap perdition on thy guilty soul?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There needs not this to urge me to revenge—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But let me view this wonder of mankind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose breath can set the bustling world in arms.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see no dreadful terrors in his eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor gathers chilly fears around my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor strains my gazing eye with admiration,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, tho' a woman, I can strike the blow.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why gaze you on me thus? why hesitate?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Am I to die?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Thou art—this dagger shall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dissolve thy life, thy fleeting ghost I'll send<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wait Vonones in the shades below.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And even there I'll triumph over him.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, thou vile homicide! thy fatal hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has robb'd me of all joy; Vonones, to<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Manes this proud sacrifice I give.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hand which sever'd the friendship of thy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soul and body, shall never draw again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imbitt'ring tears from sorr'wing mother's eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This, with the many tears I've shed, receive<br /></span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Offers to stab him.</i></div> +<span class="i0">Ha!—I'd strike; what holds my hand?—'tis n't pity.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, do not mock me, with the shew of death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet deny the blessing; I have met<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your taunts with equal taunts, in hopes to urge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blow with swift revenge; but since that fails,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll woo thee to compliance, teach my tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Persuasion's winning arts, to gain thy soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll praise thy clemency, in dying accents<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bless thee for, this, thy charitable deed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! do not stand; see, how my bosom heaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet the stroke; in pity let me die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis all the happiness I now can know.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How sweet the eloquence of dying men!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence Poets feign'd the music of the Swan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When death upon her lays his icy hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She melts away in melancholy strains.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Play not thus cruel with my poor request,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But take my loving Father's thanks, and mine.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy Father cannot thank me now.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">He will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Believe me, e'en whilst dissolv'd in ecstacy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On fond Evanthe's bosom, he will pause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One moment from his joys, to bless the deed.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What means this tumult in my breast? from whence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proceeds this sudden change? my heart beats high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soft compassion makes me less than woman:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll search no more for what I fear to know.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why drops the dagger from thy trembling hand?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! yet be kind—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">No: now I'd have thee live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since it is happiness to die: 'Tis pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I would give thee, thus I bid thee live;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, I would have thee a whole age a dying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smile to see thy ling'ring agonies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All day I'd watch thee, mark each heighten'd pang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While springing joy should swell my panting bosom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This I would have—But should this dagger give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy soul the liberty it fondly wishes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twould soar aloft, and mock my faint revenge.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This mildness shews most foul, thy anger lovely.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think that 'twas I who blasted thy fond hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vonones now lies number'd with the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all your joys are buried in his grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My hand untimely pluck'd the precious flow'r,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before its shining beauties were display'd.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Woman! Woman! where's thy resolution?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where's thy revenge? Where's all thy hopes of vengeance?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giv'n to the winds—Ha! is it pity?—No—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear it wears another softer name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll think no more, but rush to my revenge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In spite of foolish fear, or woman's softness;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be steady now my soul to thy resolves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, thou shalt die, thus, on thy breast, I write<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy instant doom—ha!—ye Gods!<br /></span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i><span class="smcap">Queen</span> starts, as, in great fright, at hearing something.</i></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Why this pause?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why dost thou idly stand like imag'd vengeance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With harmless terrors threatning on thy brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lifted arm, yet canst not strike the blow?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It surely was the Echo to my fears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whistling wind, perhaps, which mimick'd voice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thrice methought it loudly cry'd, "Forbear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imagination hence—I'll heed thee not—<br /></span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Ghost of <span class="smcap">Artabanus</span> rises.</i></div> +<span class="i0">Save me—oh!—save me—ye eternal pow'rs!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See!—see it comes, surrounded with dread terrors—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence—hence! nor blast me with that horrid sight—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Throw off that shape, and search th' infernal rounds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For horrid forms, there's none can shock like thine.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Ghost.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No; I will ever wear this form, thus e'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Appear before thee; glare upon thee thus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Til desperation, join'd to thy damn'd crime,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall wind thee to the utmost height of frenzy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain you grasp the dagger in your hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain you dress your brows in angry frowns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain you raise your threatning arm in air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Secure, Arsaces triumphs o'er your rage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guarded by fate, from thy accurs'd revenge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou canst not touch his life; the Gods have giv'n<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A softness to thy more than savage soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before unknown, to aid their grand designs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fate yet is lab'ring with some great event,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what must follow I'm forbid to broach—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think, think of me, I sink to rise again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To play in blood before thy aching sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shock thy guilty soul with hell-born horrors—<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Think, think of Artabanus! and despair—</span> +<div style="text-align:right"> [<i>Sinks.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Think of thee, and despair?—yes, I'll despair—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet stay,—oh! stay, thou messenger of fate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me—Ha! 'tis gone—and left me wretched—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Your eyes seem fix'd upon some dreadful object,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Horror and anguish clothe your whiten'd face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And your frame shakes with terror; I hear you speak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As seeming earnest in discourse, yet hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No second voice.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">What! saw'st thou nothing?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Nothing.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Nor hear'd?—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Nor Hear'd.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Amazing spectacle!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold moist'ning dews distil from ev'ry pore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I tremble like to palsied age—Ye Gods!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would I could leave this loath'd detested being!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Oh! all my brain's on fire—I rave! I rave!—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Ghost rises again.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span><br /></div> +<span class="i0">Ha! it comes again—see, it glides along—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, see, what streams of blood flow from its wounds!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A crimson torrent—Shield me, oh! shield me, heav'n.—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Great, and righteous Gods!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ah! frown not on me—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why dost thou shake thy horrid locks at me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Can I give immortality?—'tis gone—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Ghost sinks.</i><br /></div> +<span class="i0">It flies me, see, ah!—stop it, stop it, haste—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, piteous sight!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Hist! prithee, hist! oh death!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm all on fire—now freezing bolts of ice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dart thro' my breast—Oh! burst ye cords of life—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ha! who are ye?—Why do ye stare upon me?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh!—defend me, from these bick'ring Furies!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! her sense is lost, distressful Queen!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Help me, thou King of Gods! oh! help me! help!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See! they envir'n me round—Vonones too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foremost leading on the dreadful troop—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But there, Vardanes beck'ns me to shun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their hellish rage—I come, I come!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! they pursue me, with a scourge of fire.—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>Runs out distracted.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VI.</span></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh!—horror!—on the ground she breathless lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silent, in death's cold sleep; the wall besmear'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With brains and gore, the marks of her despair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O guilt! how dreadful dost thou ever shew!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How lovely are the charms of innocence!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How beauteous tho' in sorrows and distress!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Ha!—what noise?—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>Clashing of swords.</i><br /></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VII.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Arsaces</span>, <span class="smcap">Barzaphernes</span> and <span class="smcap">Gotarzes</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Barzaphernes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">At length we've forc'd our entrance—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O my lov'd Prince! to see thee thus, indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melts e'en me to a woman's softness; see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My eyes o'erflow—Are these the ornaments<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Royal hands? rude manacles! oh shameful!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is this thy room of state, this gloomy goal?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without attendance, and thy bed the pavement?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, ah! how diff'rent was our parting last!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When flush'd with vict'ry, reeking from the slaughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You saw Arabia's Sons scour o'er the plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In shameful flight, before your conqu'ring sword;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shone you like the God of battle.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Welcome!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Welcome, my loyal friends! Barzaphernes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My good old soldier, to my bosom thus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gotarzes, my lov'd Brother! now I'm happy.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, say, my soldier, why these threatning arms?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why am I thus releas'd by force? my Father,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I should have said the King, had he relented,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd not have us'd this method to enlarge me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! I fear, too forward in your love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll brand me with the rebel's hated name.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Barzaphernes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am by nature blunt—the soldier's manner.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unus'd to the soft arts practis'd at courts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor can I move the passions, or disguise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sorr'wing tale to mitigate the smart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then seek it not: I would sound the alarm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud as the trumpet's clangour, in your ears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor win I hail you, as our Parthia's King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Til you've full reveng'd your Father's murther.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Murther?—good heav'n!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Barzaphernes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">The tale requires some time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And opportunity must not be lost;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your traitor Brother, who usurps your rights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must, ere his faction gathers to a head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have from his brows his new-born honours torn.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What, dost thou say, murther'd by Vardanes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Impious parricide!—detested villain!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me a sword, and onward to the charge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stop gushing tears, for I will weep in blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sorrow with the groans of dying men.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Revenge! revenge!—oh!—all my soul's on fire!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas not Vardanes struck the fatal blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though, great in pow'r usurp'd, he dares support<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The actor, vengeful Lysias; to his breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He clasps, with grateful joy, the bloody villain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who soon meant, with ruffian wiles, to cut<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You from the earth, and also me.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Just heav'ns!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, gentle Brother, how didst thou elude<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vigilant, suspicious, tyrant's craft?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Phraates, by an accident, obtain'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The knowledge of the deed, and warn'd by him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bent my flight toward the camp, to seek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Protection and revenge; but scarce I'd left<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The city when I o'ertook the Gen'ral.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Barzaphernes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ere the sun 'rose I gain'd th' intelligence:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soldiers when they heard the dreadful tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First stood aghast, and motionless with horror.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then suddenly, inspir'd with noble rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tore up their ensigns, calling on their leaders<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To march them to the city instantly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, with some trusty few, with speed came forward,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To raise our friends within, and gain your freedom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor hazard longer, by delays, your safety.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already faithful Phraates has gain'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A num'rous party of the citizens;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With these we mean t' attack the Royal Palace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crush the bold tyrant with surprise, while sunk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In false security; and vengeance wreck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere that he thinks the impious crime be known.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O! parent being, Ruler of yon heav'n!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who bade creation spring to order, hear me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What ever sins are laid upon my soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now let them not prove heavy on this day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sink my arm, or violate my cause.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sacred rights of Kings, my Country's wrongs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The punishment of fierce impiety,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a lov'd Father's death, call forth my sword.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now on; I feel all calm within my breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ev'ry busy doubt is hush'd to rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smile heav'n propitious on my virtuous cause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor aid the wretch who dares disdain your laws.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center"><i>End of the Fourth Act.</i><br /></p> + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_V" id="ACT_V"></a>ACT V.</h2> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span> <i>The Palace.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>The Curtain rises, slowly, to soft music, and discovers <span class="smcap">Evanthe</span> +sleeping on a sofa; after the music ceases, <span class="smcap">Vardanes</span> enters.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now shining Empire standing at the goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beck'ns me forward to increase my speed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, yet, Arsaces lives, bane to my hopes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lysias I'll urge to ease me of his life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then give the villain up to punishment.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shew of justice gains the changeling croud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Besides, I ne'er will harbour in my bosom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such serpents, ever ready with their stings—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now one hour for love and fair Evanthe—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence with ambition's cares—see, where reclin'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In slumbers all her sorrows are dismiss'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep seems to heighten ev'ry beauteous feature,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And adds peculiar softness to each grace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She weeps—in dreams some lively sorrow pains her—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll take one kiss—oh! what a balmy sweetness!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me another—and another still—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ever thus I'd dwell upon her lips.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be still my heart, and calm unruly transports.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wake her, with music, from this mimic death.<br /></span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>Music sounds.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Song.</span></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tell me, Phillis, tell me why,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You appear so wond'rous coy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When that glow, and sparkling eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Speak you want to taste the joy?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prithee, give this fooling o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor torment your lover more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While youth is warm within our veins,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And nature tempts us to be gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give to pleasure loose the reins,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love and youth fly swift away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth in pleasure should be spent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Age will come, we'll then repent.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe</span> [<i>waking</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I come, ye lovely shades—Ha! am I here?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still in the tyrant's palace? Ye bright pow'rs!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are all my blessings then but vis'onary?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methought I was arriv'd on that blest shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where happy souls for ever dwell, crown'd with<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immortal bliss; Arsaces led me through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flow'ry groves, while all around me gleam'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thousand and thousand shades, who welcom'd me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With pleasing songs of joy—Vardanes, ha!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why beams the angry lightning of thine eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against thy sighing slave? Is love a crime?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! if to dote, with such excess of passion<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As rises e'en to mad extravagance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is criminal, I then am so, indeed.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Away! vile man!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">If to pursue thee e'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all the humblest offices of love,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ne'er to know one single thought that does<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not bear thy bright idea, merits scorn—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hence from my sight—nor let me, thus, pollute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine eyes, with looking on a wretch like thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou cause of all my ills; I sicken at<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy loathsome presence—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">'Tis not always thus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor dost thou ever meet the sounds of love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rage and fierce disdain: Arsaces, soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could smooth thy brow, and melt thy icy breast.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ha! does it gall thee? Yes, he could, he could;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! when he speaks, such sweetness dwells upon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His accents, all my soul dissolves to love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And warm desire; such truth and beauty join'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His looks are soft and kind, such gentleness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such virtue swells his bosom! in his eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sits majesty, commanding ev'ry heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strait as the pine, the pride of all the grove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More blooming than the spring, and sweeter far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than asphodels or roses infant sweets.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! I could dwell forever on his praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet think eternity was scarce enough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tell the mighty theme; here in my breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His image dwells, but one dear thought of him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When fancy paints his Person to my eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he was wont in tenderness dissolv'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighing his vows, or kneeling at my feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wipes off all mem'ry of my wretchedness.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I know this brav'ry is affected, yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It gives me joy, to think my rival only<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can in imagination taste thy beauties.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let him,—'twill ease him in his solitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gild the horrors of his prison-house,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till death shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Ha! what was that? till death—ye Gods!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, now I feel distress's tort'ring pang—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou canst not, villain—darst not think his death—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O mis'ry!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Naught but your kindness saves him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet bless me, with your love, and he is safe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the same frown which kills my growing hopes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gives him to death.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">O horror, I could die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten thousand times to save the lov'd Arsaces.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teach me the means, ye pow'rs, how to save him:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then lead me to what ever is my fate.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not only shall he die, but to thy view<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll bring the scene, those eyes that take delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In cruelty, shall have enough of death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en here, before thy sight, he shall expire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not sudden, but by ling'ring torments; all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That mischief can invent shall be practis'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To give him pain; to lengthen out his woe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll search around the realm for skillful men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To find new tortures.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Oh! wrack not thus my soul!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sex o'erflows with various humours, he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who catches not their smiles the very moment,<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Will lose the blessing—I'll improve this softness.—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Aside to her.</i><br /></div> +<span class="i0">Heav'n never made thy beauties to destroy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were to bless, and not to blast mankind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pity should dwell within thy lovely breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sacred temple ne'er was form'd for hate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A habitation; but a residence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For love and gaiety.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Oh! heav'ns!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">That sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Proclaims your kind consent to save Arsaces.</span> +<div style="text-align:right;"> [<i>Laying hold of her.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ha! villain, off—unhand me—hence—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">In vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is opportunity to those, who spend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An idle courtship on the fair, they well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deserve their fate, if they're disdain'd;—her charms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rush upon, and conquer opposition,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gains the Fair one's praise; an active lover<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suits, who lies aside the coxcomb's empty whine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And forces her to bliss.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ah! hear me, hear me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus kneeling, with my tears, I do implore thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think on my innocence, nor force a joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which will ever fill thy soul with anguish.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seek not to load my ills with infamy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me not be a mark for bitter scorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bear proud virtue's taunts and mocking jeers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And like a flow'r, of all its sweetness robb'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be trod to earth, neglected and disdain'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spurn'd by ev'ry vulgar saucy foot.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Speak, speak forever—music's in thy voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still attentive will I listen to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be hush'd as night, charm'd with the magic sound.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! teach me, heav'n, soft moving eloquence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bend his stubborn soul to gentleness.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is thy virtue? Where thy princely lustre?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! wilt thou meanly stoop to do a wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stain thy honour with so foul a blot?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou who shouldst be a guard to innocence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave force to brutes—for pleasure is not found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where still the soul's averse; horror and guilt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Distraction, desperation chace her hence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some happier gentle Fair one you may find,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose yielding heart may bend to meet your flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In mutual love soft joys alone are found;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When souls are drawn by secret sympathy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And virtue does on virtue smile.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">No more—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her heav'nly tongue will charm me from th' intent—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence coward softness, force shall make me blest.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Assist me, ye bless't pow'rs!—oh! strike, ye Gods!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strike me, with thunder dead, this moment, e'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I suffer violation—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">'Tis in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The idle pray'rs by fancy'd grief put up,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are blown by active winds regardless by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor ever reach the heav'ns.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Vardanes</span>, <span class="smcap">Evanthe</span> and <span class="smcap">Lysias</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Arm, arm, my Lord!—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Damnation! why this interruption now?—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! arm! my noble Prince, the foe's upon us.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arsaces, by Barzaphernes releas'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Join'd with the citizens, assaults the Palace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And swears revenge for Artabanus' death.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ha! what? revenge for Artabanus' death?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis the curse of Princes that their counsels,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which should be kept like holy mysteries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can never rest in silent secrecy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fond of employ, some cursed tattling tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will still divulge them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Sure some fiend from hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In mischief eminent, to cross our views,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has giv'n th' intelligence, for man could not.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! ever blest event!—All-gracious heav'n!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This beam of joy revives me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Vardanes</span>, <span class="smcap">Evanthe</span>, <span class="smcap">Lysias</span>, to them, an <span class="smcap">Officer</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Officer.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Haste! my Lord!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or all will soon be lost; tho' thrice repuls'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By your e'erfaithful guards, they still return<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With double fury.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Hence, then, idle love—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come forth, my trusty sword—curs'd misfortune!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had I but one short hour, without reluctance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd meet them, tho' they brib'd the pow'rs of hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To place their furies in the van: Yea, rush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet this dreadful Brother 'midst the war—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haste to the combat—Now a crown or death—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wretch who dares to give an inch of ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I retire, shall meet the death he shun'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Away—away! delays are dang'rous now—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe</span> [<i>alone</i>].<br /></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now heav'n be partial to Arsaces' cause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor leave to giddy chance when virtue strives;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let victory sit on his warlike helm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For justice draws his sword: be thou his aid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let the opposer's arm sink with the weight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his most impious crimes—be still my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all that thou canst aid him with is pray'r.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! that I had the strength of thousands in me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or that my voice could wake the sons of men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To join, and crush the tyrant!—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene V.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Evanthe</span> and <span class="smcap">Cleone</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">My Cleone—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Welcome thou partner of my joys and sorrows.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Cleone.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! yonder terror triumphs uncontroul'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And glutton death seems never satisfy'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each soft sensation lost in thoughtless rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And breast to breast, oppos'd in furious war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fiery Chiefs receive the vengeful steel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er lifeless heaps of men the soldiers climb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still eager for the combat, while the ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made slipp'ry by the gushing streams of gore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is treach'rous to their feet.—Oh! horrid sight!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too much for me to stand, my life was chill'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from the turret I beheld the fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It forc'd me to retire.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">What of Arsaces?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Cleone.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I saw him active in the battle, now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like light'ning, piercing thro' the thickest foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then scorning to disgrace his sword in low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plebeian blood—loud for Vardanes call'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet him singly, and decide the war.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Save him, ye Gods!—oh! all my soul is fear—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly, fly Cleone, to the tow'r again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See how fate turns the ballance; and pursue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arsaces with thine eye; mark ev'ry blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Observe if some bold villain dares to urge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sword presumptuous at my Hero's breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haste, my Cleone, haste, to ease my fears.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VI.</span></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah!—what a cruel torment is suspense!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My anxious soul is torn 'twixt love and fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce can I please me with one fancied bliss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which kind imagination forms, but reason,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud, surly reason, snatches the vain joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gives me up again to sad distress.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet I can die, and should Arsaces fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This fatal draught shall ease me of my sorrows.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VII.</span></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Cleone</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! horror! horror! horror!—cruel Gods!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw him fall—I did—pierc'd thro' with wounds—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curs'd! curs'd Vardanes!—hear'd the gen'ral cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which burst, as tho' all nature had dissolv'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark! how they shout! the noise seems coming this way.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene VIII.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Arsaces</span>, <span class="smcap">Gotarzes</span>, <span class="smcap">Barzaphernes</span> and <span class="smcap">Officers</span>, with <span class="smcap">Vardanes</span> and +<span class="smcap">Lysias</span>, prisoners.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thanks to the ruling pow'rs who blest our arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prepare the sacrifices to the Gods,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grateful songs of tributary praise.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gotarzes, fly, my Brother, find Evanthe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bring the lovely mourner to my arms.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Yes, I'll obey you, with a willing speed.</span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Gotarzes</span>.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou, Lysias, from yon tow'r's aspiring height<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be hurl'd to death, thy impious hands are stain'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With royal blood—Let the traitor's body<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be giv'n to hungry dogs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Lysias.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Welcome, grim death!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've fed thy maw with Kings, and lack no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Revenge—Now, do thy duty, Officer.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Officer.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, and would lead all traitors gladly thus,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The boon of their deserts.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene IX.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Arsaces, Vardanes, Barzaphernes.</span></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">But for Vardanes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Brother's name forgot—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">You need no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know the rest—Ah! death is near, my wounds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Permit me not to live—my breath grows short,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curs'd be Phraates' arm which stop'd my sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere it had reach'd thy proud exulting heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the wretch paid dear for his presuming;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A just reward.—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">He sinks, yet bear him up—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Vardanes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Curs'd be the multitude which o'erpow'r'd me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And beat me to the ground, cover'd with wounds—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, oh! 'tis done! my ebbing life is done—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I feel death's hand upon me—Yet, I die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just as I wish, and daring for a crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life without rule is my disdain; I scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To swell a haughty Brother's sneaking train,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wait upon his ear with flatt'ring tales,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And court his smiles; come, death, in thy cold arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me forget Ambition's mighty toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shun the triumphs of a hated Brother—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O! bear me off—Let not his eyes enjoy<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">My agonies—My sight grows dim with death.</span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>They bear him off.</i><br /></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> (<i>the Last</i>).</p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Arsaces</span>, <span class="smcap">Gotarzes</span>, <span class="smcap">Barzaphernes</span>, and <span class="smcap">Evanthe</span> supported.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lead me, oh! lead me, to my lov'd Arsaces.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is he?—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ha! what's this?—Just heav'ns!—my fears—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Arsaces, oh! thus circl'd in thy arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I die without a pang.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha! die?—why stare ye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye lifeless ghosts? Have none of ye a tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tell me I'm undone?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Soon, my Brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too soon, you'll know it by the sad effects;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if my grief will yet permit my tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To do its office, thou shalt hear the tale.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cleone, from the turret, view'd the battle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on Phraates fix'd her erring sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy brave unhappy friend she took for thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By his garb deceiv'd, which like to thine he wore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still with her eye she follow'd him, where e'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pierc'd the foe, and to Vardanes' sword<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She saw him fall a hapless victim, then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In agonies of grief, flew to Evanthe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And told the dreadful tale—the fatal bowl<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Be dumb, nor ever give again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear to the heart, with thy ill-boding voice.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here, I'll rest, till death, on thy lov'd bosom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here let me sigh my—Oh! the poison works—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! horror!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Cease—this sorrow pains me more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than all the wringing agonies of death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dreadful parting of the soul from, this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its wedded clay—Ah! there—that pang shot thro'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My throbbing heart—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Save her, ye Gods!—oh! save her!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will bribe ye with clouds of incense;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such num'rous sacrifices, that your altars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall even sink beneath the mighty load.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When I am dead, dissolv'd to native dust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet let me live in thy dear mem'ry—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One tear will not be much to give Evanthe.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My eyes shall e'er two running fountains be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wet thy urn with overflowing tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy ne'er again within my breast shall find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A residence—Oh! speak, once more—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Evanthe.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Life's just out—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Father—Oh! protect his honour'd age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give him shelter from the storms of fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's long been fortune's sport—Support me—Ah!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can no more—my glass is spent—farewell—<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Forever—Arsaces!—Oh!</span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>Dies.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Stay, oh! stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or take me with thee—dead! she's cold and dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her eyes are clos'd, and all my joys are flown—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now burst ye elements, from your restraint,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let order cease, and chaos be again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Break! break, tough heart!—oh! torture—life dissolve—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why stand ye idle? Have I not one friend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To kindly free me from this pain? One blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One friendly blow would give me ease.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Barzaphernes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">The Gods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forefend!—Pardon me, Royal Sir, if I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dare, seemingly disloyal, seize your sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Despair may urge you far—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Ha! traitors! rebels!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoary rev'rend Villain! what, disarm me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me my sword—what, stand ye by, and see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Prince insulted? Are ye rebels all?—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Barzaphernes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Be calm, my gracious Lord!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Oh! my lov'd Brother!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gotarzes too! all! all! conspir'd against me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, are ye all resolv'd that I must live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feel the momentary pangs of death?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ha!—this, shall make a passage for my soul—<br /></span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>Snatches <span class="smcap">Barzaphernes'</span> sword.</i><br /></div> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">Out, out vile cares, from your distress'd abode—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>Stabs himself.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Barzaphernes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! ye eternal Gods!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Distraction! heav'ns!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall run mad—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ah! 'tis in vain to grieve—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The steel has done its part, and I'm at rest.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gotarzes, wear my crown, and be thou blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cherish, Barzaphernes, my trusty chief—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I faint, oh! lay me by Evanthe's side—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still wedded in our deaths—Bethas—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Barzaphernes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Lord, has broke his heart, I saw him stretch'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the flinty pavement, in his gaol—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold, lifeless—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Arsaces.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">He's happy then—had he heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This tale, he'd—Ah! Evanthe chides my soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ling'ring here so long—another pang<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">And all the world, adieu—oh! adieu!—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>Dies.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Oh!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fix me, heav'n, immoveable, a statue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And free me from o'erwhelming tides of grief.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Barzaphernes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! my lov'd Prince, I soon shall follow thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy laurel'd glories whither are they fled?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would I had died before this fatal day!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Triumphant garlands pride my soul no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more the lofty voice of war can charm—<br /></span> +<span class="i0" style="float:left;width:auto;">And why then am I here? Thus then—</span> +<div style="text-align:right;">[<i>Offers to stab himself.</i><br /></div> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Ah! hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor rashly urge the blow—think of me, and<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live—My heart is wrung with streaming anguish,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tore with the smarting pangs of woe, yet, will I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dare to live, and stem misfortune's billows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live then, and be the guardian of my youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lead me on thro' virtue's rugged path.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Barzaphernes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, glorious youth, thy words have rous'd the<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drooping genius of my soul; thus, let me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clasp thee, in my aged arms; yes, I will live—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live, to support thee in thy kingly rights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when thou 'rt firmly fix'd, my task's perform'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My honourable task—Then I'll retire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Petition gracious heav'n to bless my work,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the silent grave forget my cares.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Gotarzes.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, to the Temple, let us onward move,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strive t' appease the angry pow'rs above.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fate yet may have some ills reserv'd in store,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Continu'd curses, to torment us more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho', in their district, Monarchs rule alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jove sways the mighty Monarch on his throne:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor can the shining honours which they wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purchase one joy, or save them from one care.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Finis.</i></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> The Tigris.</p></div> +</div> +<div class="tnote"> +<h3>TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES</h3> +<p>Page 21: Thomas Godfrey's date of birth corrected from 1763 to 1736.</p> +<p>Page 78: appartment as in original.</p> +<p>Page 93: "this gloomy goal" as in original. Should perhaps be gloomy gaol.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prince of Parthia, by Thomas Godfrey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCE OF PARTHIA *** + +***** This file should be named 29222-h.htm or 29222-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/2/29222/ + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Prince of Parthia + A Tragedy + +Author: Thomas Godfrey + +Release Date: June 26, 2009 [EBook #29222] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCE OF PARTHIA *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + +This e-book contains the text of _The Prince of Parthia_, extracted from +Representative Plays by American Dramatists: Vol 1, 1765-1819. Comments and +background to all the plays and the other plays are available at Project +Gutenberg. + +Spelling as in the original has been preserved. + + + + +THE + +PRINCE OF PARTHIA + + +_A TRAGEDY_ + + + + +THOMAS GODFREY, JR. (1736-1763) + + +Thomas Godfrey, Jr., was born in Philadelphia, on December 4, 1736, +the son of a man who himself won fame as an inventor of the Quadrant. +Godfrey, Senior, was a friend of Benjamin Franklin, the two probably +having been drawn together by their common interest in science. When +Godfrey, Senior, died, December, 1749, it was Franklin who wrote his +obituary notice.[1] + +Young Godfrey was a student at the College or Academy of Philadelphia, +and when his education was completed, he became apprenticed to a +watch-maker, remaining in that profession until 1758. As a student at +the Academy, he came under the special influence of Dr. William Smith, +the first Principal or Provost of that institution,[2] and it was Dr. +Smith who not only obtained for Godfrey a lieutenancy with the +Pennsylvania troops in 1758, which sent him in the expedition against +Fort Duquesne, but who, likewise, as the Editor of _The American +Magazine_, was only too glad to accept and publish some of Godfrey's +poetical effusions. + +That the young man was popular, and that he associated with some of +the most promising figures of the time, will be seen from the fact +that, although he was only twenty-seven when he died, he was counted +among the friends of Benjamin West and John Green, both portrait +painters, of Francis Hopkinson, who was a student at the College of +Philadelphia, and of Nathaniel Evans, a young minister whose loyalty +found outlet after Godfrey's death in the Memorial Edition of +Godfrey's works. Evans himself wrote poems and dialogues. In his +confirmation of the fact that, as a poet, Godfrey was regarded +favourably by the Philadelphians of the time, he quotes from the diary +of one Miss Sarah Eve, who referred to him as "our poet." + +Godfrey's reputation, as a young man with musical talents and a +decided taste for painting, has come down to us. Certain it is that, +during all of this time of varied occupation as a watch-maker and a +soldier, he must have been courting the poetic Muse. There are some +who speculate, without authority, on his having been a theatre-goer, +and having become inspired as a playwright by the work of the American +Company, in Philadelphia; especially by the good work of Douglass. +Because of insufficient evidence, that is a question which remains +unproven. Nevertheless, it is certain, from an extant letter written +by Godfrey on November 17, 1759, and quoted by Seilhamer, that he must +have had his attention turned to playwriting as a special art. He says +to his correspondent, writing from North Carolina: + + By the last vessel from this place, I sent you the copy of a + tragedy I finished here, and desired your interest in bringing + it on the stage; I have not yet heard of the vessel's safe + arrival, and believe if she is safe it will be too late for the + company now in Philadelphia. [Meaning, of course, Douglass's + company.] + +There are two facts to be noted in this communication: first, that it +was written from North Carolina, where, in 1759, Godfrey had gone on +some plantation business--probably as factor; and second, that it must +have been penned with the idea of immediate production by the actors +in Philadelphia. According to Seilhamer, Godfrey remained in North +Carolina for three years. He did not write the entire manuscript of +"The Prince of Parthia" while living in the South but, as he +definitely states in his letter, finished it soon after his arrival. + +There is no evidence as to why Godfrey sailed to the Island of New +Providence in the last year of his life, and then returned to +Wilmington, N.C. There is no definite statement as to whether he +contracted fever and had a sunstroke on that expedition, or after his +return home. But, nevertheless, he did contract the fever and have a +sunstroke; with the result that he succumbed to his illness, and died +near Wilmington, North Carolina, on August 3, 1763.[3] + +After his death, Godfrey's friends decided among themselves that the +young man was too much of a genius for them to allow his productions +to remain scattered and unrecognized. Evidently, correspondence +regarding this must have taken place between Dr. Smith, Nathaniel +Evans, the young minister, and John Green, the portrait painter. For, +in 1765, a book was published, entitled "Juvenile Poems on Various +Subjects, with the Prince of Parthia," printed in Philadelphia by one +Henry Miller.[4] The volume contained a life written by Evans, a +critical estimate written by Dr. Smith, of the College of +Philadelphia, and an Elegy from the pen of John Green, who had been +previously complimented by Godfrey in a poem entitled "A Night Piece." +The whole spirit of the publication was one of friendly devotion and +of firm belief in the permanency of Godfrey's position in the literary +world. As was the custom of the time, the Edition was issued under the +patronage of subscribers, a list being included. We know, for example, +that Benjamin Franklin subscribed for twelve copies, his own private, +autographed copy having been put on sale a few years ago. + +As yet, no concerted effort had been made for the production of +Godfrey's "The Prince of Parthia." We do not know if, during this +time, the American Company had any claim on the manuscript, or +whether, after Godfrey's death, it was again submitted to the +theatrical people. But this much we do know, that, very hastily, the +American Company, headed by David Douglass, who was playing at the +Southwark Theatre in Philadelphia, decided that they would put on "The +Prince of Parthia" in place of "The Disappointment; or, the Force of +Credulity," a comic opera which will be noted in my introduction to +John Leacock's "The Fall of British Tyranny." This musical piece had +actually been put into rehearsal in 1767, when it was withdrawn. +Immediately, the _Pennsylvania Journal and Weekly Advertiser_ for +April 23, 1767, contained an advertisement of the forthcoming +production; it ran as follows: + + By Authority./Never Performed before./By the American + Company,/at the New Theatre, in Southwark,/On Friday, the + Twenty-fourth of April, will be/presented, A Tragedy written by + the late ingenious/Mr. _Thomas Godfrey_, of this city, called + the/Prince of Parthia./The Principal Characters by Mr. + Hallam,/Mr. Douglass, Mr. Wall, Mr. Morris,/Mr. Allyn, Mr. + Tomlinson, Mr. Broad/belt, Mr. Greville, Mrs. Douglass,/Mrs. + Morris, Miss Wainwight, and/Miss Cheer./To which will be added, + A Ballad Opera called/The Contrivances./To begin exactly at + _Seven o'clock_.--_Vivant Rex & Regina._/ + +In the _Pennsylvania Gazette_, for the same date, appears an +advertisement, without the cast of characters. + +The production occurred on April 24, 1767. + +Seilhamer gives a probable cast of characters, although only the list +of actors is given in the advertisement. Apart from this, little is +known of the production: whether or not it pleased the theatre-goers +of the time. We can judge, however, from the reading of the play +itself, that there was little of extreme dramatic excellence in the +situations, the chief claim, from the actor's point of view, being the +opportunity to deliver certain very highly coloured, poetical lines +modelled after the manner of the Elizabethan drama. + +In the publication of "The Prince of Parthia," we have the first +printed American tragedy in existence, and in its production we have +one of only two plays, written by Americans, and presented on the +stage before the Revolution. The other play is George Cockings's "The +Conquest of Canada; or, The Siege of Quebec," printed for the author +in 1766, and presented in Philadelphia in 1773. We note, in Dr. F. W. +Atkinson's estimable Bibliography of American Plays in his possession, +that Cockings later described himself as "Camillo Querno, Poet +Laureate to Congress." + +The interest in the early history of the American drama, which has +become evident within recent years, and nowhere more evident than +among the student body in our American colleges, induced the +Zelosophic Literary Society, encouraged by the University of +Pennsylvania, to revive "The Prince of Parthia," which was written by +one of their alumni. The production was consummated on March 26, 1915. +Even though we have no statement as to the actual manner in which the +Douglass Company presented the play originally, we are given every +evidence, by those who witnessed the revival, that the play, while +containing many excellences, was not of a dramatic character according +to modern ideas of stage effectiveness. + +The only portrait of Godfrey known to have been in existence was that +painted by Benjamin West, in his earlier years. It is interesting to +note that in commemoration of the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary +of the original production of this play, Dr. Archibald Henderson, of +the University of North Carolina, issued an _edition de luxe_ of "The +Prince of Parthia," with an extended introduction, historical, +biographical and critical (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1917). + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] A notice appeared in the Pennsylvania _Gazette_, December 19, +1749. See Scharf and Westcott's "History of Philadelphia" for +references to Godfrey, Sr. Therein is given a picture of his house in +Germantown, Pa. Barlow mentions him in his "Columbiad." A monument to +his memory was erected in Laurel Hill Cemetery, Philadelphia, 1843. +Note that David Rittenhouse, an American dramatist who translated, +from the German, "Lucy Sampson; or, The Unhappy Heiress" (1789), was +likewise a mathematical genius. + +[2] Accounts of Dr. Smith are to be found in Henry Simpson's "Eminent +Philadelphians"; Scharf & Westcott's "History of Philadelphia," ii, +1126. Dr. Smith's "Life and Correspondence," by Horace Wemyss Smith, +was issued in 2 vols., 1879. + +[3] Visitors to Wilmington, N.C., will be taken to Old St. James's +Church-yard, where Godfrey lies buried. + +[4] Juvenile Poems/on/Various Subjects./With the/Prince of +Parthia,/A/Tragedy,/By the Late/Mr. Thomas Godfrey, Junr./of +Philadelphia./To which is prefixed,/Some Account of the Author and +his Writings./Poeta nascitur non fit. Hor./Philadelphia,/Printed by +Henry Miller, in Second-Street./M DCC LXV. + + + + +[Illustration: JUVENILE POEMS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. WITH THE PRINCE OF +PARTHIA, A TRAGEDY. + +FAC-SIMILE OF ORIGINAL TITLE-PAGE TO FIRST EDITION] + + + + +ADVERTISEMENT + + +Our Author has made Use of the _licentia poetica_ in the Management of +this Dramatic Piece; and deviates, in a particular or two, from what +is agreed on by Historians: The Queen _Thermusa_ being not the Wife of +King _Artabanus_, but (according to _Tacitus_, _Strabo_ and +_Josephus_) of _Phraates_; _Artabanus_ being the fourth King of +_Parthia_ after him. Such Lapses are not unprecedented among the +Poets; and will the more readily admit of an Excuse, when the Voice of +History is followed in the Description of Characters. + + + + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE + + +MEN. + +ARTABANUS, King of Parthia. + +ARSACES, } +VARDANES, } his Sons. +GOTARZES, } + +BARZAPHERNES, Lieutenant-Generales, under Arsac. + +LYSIAS, } Officers at Court. +PHRAATES, } + +BETHAS, a Noble Captive. + + +WOMEN. + +THERMUSA, the Queen. + +EVANTHE, belov'd by Arsaces. + +CLEONE, her Confident. + +EDESSA, Attendant on the Queen. + + +Guards and Attendants. + +SCENE, _Ctesiphon_. + + + + +THE PRINCE OF PARTHIA + +_A TRAGEDY_ + + + + +ACT I. + + +SCENE I. _The Temple of the Sun._ + +_GOTARZES and PHRAATES._ + +GOTARZES. + +He comes, Arsaces comes, my gallant Brother +(Like shining Mars in all the pomp of conquest) +Triumphant enters now our joyful gates; +Bright Victory waits on his glitt'ring car, +And shews her fav'rite to the wond'ring croud; +While Fame exulting sounds the happy name +To realms remote, and bids the world admire. +Oh! 'tis a glorious day:--let none presume +T'indulge the tear, or wear the gloom of sorrow; +This day shall shine in Ages yet to come, +And grace the Parthian story. + +PHRAATES. + + Glad Ctes'phon +Pours forth her numbers, like a rolling deluge, +To meet the blooming Hero; all the ways, +On either side, as far as sight can stretch, +Are lin'd with crouds, and on the lofty walls +Innumerable multitudes are rang'd. +On ev'ry countenance impatience sate +With roving eye, before the train appear'd. +But when they saw the Darling of the Fates, +They rent the air with loud repeated shouts; +The Mother shew'd him to her infant Son, +And taught his lisping tongue to name Arsaces: +E'en aged Sires, whose sounds are scarcely heard, +By feeble strength supported, tost their caps, +And gave their murmur to the gen'ral voice. + +GOTARZES. + +The spacious streets, which lead up to the Temple, +Are strew'd with flow'rs; each, with frantic joy, +His garland forms, and throws it in the way. +What pleasure, Phraates, must swell his bosom, +To see the prostrate nation all around him, +And know he's made them happy! to hear them +Tease the Gods, to show'r their blessings on him! +Happy Arsaces! fain I'd imitate +Thy matchless worth, and be a shining joy! + +PHRAATES. + +Hark! what a shout was that which pierc'd the skies! +It seem'd as tho' all Nature's beings join'd, +To hail thy glorious Brother. + +GOTARZES. + + Happy Parthia! +Now proud Arabia dreads her destin'd chains, +While shame and rout disperses all her sons. +Barzaphernes pursues the fugitives, +The few whom fav'ring Night redeem'd from slaughter; +Swiftly they fled, for fear had wing'd their speed, +And made them bless the shade which saf'ty gave. + +PHRAATES. + +What a bright hope is ours, when those dread pow'rs +Who rule yon heav'n, and guide the mov'ments here, +Shall call your royal Father to their joys: +In blest Arsaces ev'ry virtue meets; +He's gen'rous, brave, and wise, and good, +Has skill to act, and noble fortitude +To face bold danger, in the battle firm, +And dauntless as a Lion fronts his foe. +Yet is he sway'd by ev'ry tender passion, +Forgiving mercy, gentleness and love; +Which speak the Hero friend of humankind. + +GOTARZES. + +And let me speak, for 'tis to him I owe +That here I stand, and breath the common air, +And 'tis my pride to tell it to the world. +One luckless day as in the eager chace +My Courser wildly bore me from the rest, +A monst'rous Leopard from a bosky fen +Rush'd forth, and foaming lash'd the ground, +And fiercely ey'd me as his destin'd quarry. +My jav'lin swift I threw, but o'er his head +It erring pass'd, and harmless in the air +Spent all its force; my falchin then I seiz'd, +Advancing to attack my ireful foe, +When furiously the savage sprung upon me, +And tore me to the ground; my treach'rous blade +Above my hand snap'd short, and left me quite +Defenceless to his rage; Arsaces then, +Hearing the din, flew like some pitying pow'r, +And quickly freed me from the Monster's paws, +Drenching his bright lance in his spotted breast. + +PHRAATES. + +How diff'rent he from arrogant Vardanes? +That haughty Prince eyes with a stern contempt +All other Mortals, and with lofty mien +He treads the earth as tho' he were a God. +Nay, I believe that his ambitious soul, +Had it but pow'r to its licentious wishes, +Would dare dispute with Jove the rule of heav'n; +Like a Titanian son with giant insolence, +Match with the Gods, and wage immortal war, +'Til their red wrath should hurl him headlong down, +E'en to destruction's lowest pit of horror. + +GOTARZES. + +Methinks he wears not that becoming joy +Which on this bright occasion gilds the court; +His brow's contracted with a gloomy frown, +Pensive he stalks along, and seems a prey +To pining discontent. + +PHRAATES. + + Arsaces he dislikes, +For standing 'twixt him, and the hope of Empire; +While Envy, like a rav'nous Vulture, tears +His canker'd heart, to see your Brother's triumph. + +GOTARZES. + +And yet Vardanes owes that hated Brother +As much as I; 'twas summer last, as we +Were bathing in Euphrates' flood, Vardanes +Proud of strength would seek the further shore; +But ere he the mid-stream gain'd, a poignant pain +Shot thro' his well-strung nerves, contracting all, +And the stiff joints refus'd their wonted aid. +Loudly he cry'd for help, Arsaces heard, +And thro' the swelling waves he rush'd to save +His drowning Brother, and gave him life, +And for the boon the Ingrate pays him hate. + +PHRAATES. + +There's something in the wind, for I've observ'd +Of late he much frequents the Queen's apartment, +And fain would court her favour, wild is she +To gain revenge for fell Vonones' death, +And firm resolves the ruin of Arsaces. +Because that fill'd with filial piety, +To save his Royal Sire, he struck the bold +Presumptuous Traitor dead; nor heeds she +The hand which gave her Liberty, nay rais'd her +Again to Royalty. + +GOTARZES. + + Ingratitude, +Thou hell-born fiend, how horrid is thy form! +The Gods sure let thee loose to scourge mankind, +And save them from an endless waste of thunder. + +PHRAATES. + +Yet I've beheld this now so haughty Queen, +Bent with distress, and e'en by pride forsook, +When following thy Sire's triumphant car, +Her tears and ravings mov'd the senseless herd, +And pity blest their more than savage breasts, +With the short pleasure of a moment's softness. +Thy Father, conquer'd by her charms (for what +Can charm like mourning beauty), soon struck off +Her chains, and rais'd her to his bed and throne. +Adorn'd the brows of her aspiring Son, +The fierce Vonones, with the regal crown +Of rich Armenia, once the happy rule +Of Tisaphernes, her deceased Lord. + +GOTARZES. + +And he in wasteful war return'd his thanks, +Refus'd the homage he had sworn to pay, +And spread Destruction ev'ry where around, +'Til from Arsaces' hand he met the fate +His crimes deserv'd. + +PHRAATES. + + As yet your princely Brother +Has scap'd Thermusa's rage, for still residing +In peaceful times, within his Province, ne'er +Has fortune blest her with a sight of him, +On whom she'd wreck her vengeance. + +GOTARZES. + + She has won +By spells, I think, so much on my fond father, +That he is guided by her will alone. +She rules the realm, her pleasure is a law, +All offices and favours are bestow'd, +As she directs. + +PHRAATES. + + But see, the Prince, Vardanes, +Proud Lysias with him, he whose soul is harsh +With jarring discord. Nought but madding rage, +And ruffian-like revenge his breast can know, +Indeed to gain a point he'll condescend +To mask the native rancour of his heart, +And smooth his venom'd tongue with flattery. +Assiduous now he courts Vardanes' friendship, +See, how he seems to answer all his gloom, +And give him frown for frown. + +GOTARZES. + + Let us retire, +And shun them now; I know not what it means, +But chilling horror shivers o'er my limbs, +When Lysias I behold.-- + + +SCENE II. _VARDANES and LYSIAS._ + +LYSIAS. + + That shout proclaims [_Shout._ +Arsaces' near approach. + +VARDANES. + + Peace, prithee, peace, +Wilt thou still shock me with that hated sound, +And grate harsh discord in my offended ear? +If thou art fond of echoing the name, +Join with the servile croud, and hail his triumph. + +LYSIAS. + +I hail him? By our glorious shining God, +I'd sooner lose my speech, and all my days +In silence rest, conversing with my thoughts, +Than hail Arsaces. + +VARDANES. + + Yet, again his name, +Sure there is magic in it, Parthia's drunk +And giddy with the joy; the houses' tops +With gaping spectators are throng'd, nay wild +They climb such precipices that the eye +Is dazzl'd with their daring; ev'ry wretch +Who long has been immur'd, nor dar'd enjoy +The common benefits of sun and air, +Creeps from his lurking place; e'en feeble age, +Long to the sickly couch confin'd, stalks forth, +And with infectious breath assails the Gods. +O! curse the name, the idol of their joy. + +LYSIAS. + +And what's that name, that thus they should disturb +The ambient air, and weary gracious heav'n +With ceaseless bellowings? Vardanes sounds +With equal harmony, and suits as well +The loud repeated shouts of noisy joy. +Can he bid Chaos Nature's rule dissolve, +Can he deprive mankind of light and day, +And turn the Seasons from their destin'd course? +Say, can he do all this, and be a God? +If not, what is his matchless merit? What dares he, +Vardanes dares not? blush not, noble Prince, +For praise is merit's due, and I will give it; +E'en 'mid the croud which waits thy Brother's smile, +I'd loud proclaim the merit of Vardanes. + +VARDANES. + +Forbear this warmth, your friendship urges far. +Yet know your love shall e'er retain a place +In my remembrance. There is something here-- + + [_Pointing to his breast._ + +Another time and I will give thee all; +But now, no more.-- + +LYSIAS. + + You may command my services, +I'm happy to obey. Of late your Brother +Delights in hind'ring my advancement, +And ev'ry boaster's rais'd above my merit, +Barzaphernes alone commands his ear, +His oracle in all. + +VARDANES. + + I hate Arsaces, +Tho' he's my Mother's son, and churchmen say +There's something sacred in the name of Brother. +My soul endures him not, and he's the bane +Of all my hopes of greatness. Like the sun +He rules the day, and like the night's pale Queen, +My fainter beams are lost when he appears. +And this because he came into the world, +A moon or two before me: What's the diff'rence, +That he alone should shine in Empire's seat? +I am not apt to trumpet forth my praise, +Or highly name myself, but this I'll speak, +To him in ought, I'm not the least inferior. +Ambition, glorious fever! mark of Kings, +Gave me immortal thirst and rule of Empire. +Why lag'd my tardy soul, why droop'd the wing, +Nor forward springing, shot before his speed +To seize the prize?--'Twas Empire--Oh! 'twas Empire-- + +LYSIAS. + +Yet, I must think that of superior mould +Your soul was form'd, fit for a heav'nly state, +And left reluctant its sublime abode, +And painfully obey'd the dread command, +When Jove's controuling fate forc'd it below. +His soul was earthly, and it downward mov'd, +Swift as to the center of attraction. + +VARDANES. + +It might be so--But I've another cause +To hate this Brother, ev'ry way my rival; +In love as well as glory he's above me; +I dote on fair Evanthe, but the charmer +Disdains my ardent suit, like a miser +He treasures up her beauties to himself: +Thus is he form'd to give me torture ever.-- +But hark, they've reach'd the Temple, +Didst thou observe the croud, their eagerness, +Each put the next aside to catch a look, +Himself was elbow'd out?--Curse, curse their zeal-- + +LYSIAS. + +Stupid folly! + +VARDANES. + + I'll tell thee, Lysias, +This many-headed monster multitude, +Unsteady is as giddy fortune's wheel, +As woman fickle, varying as the wind; +To-day they this way course, the next they veer, +And shift another point, the next another. + +LYSIAS. + +Curiosity's another name for man, +The blazing meteor streaming thro' the air +Commands our wonder, and admiring eyes, +With eager gaze we trace the lucent path, +'Til spent at length it shrinks to native nothing. +While the bright stars which ever steady glow, +Unheeded shine, and bless the world below. + + +SCENE III. _QUEEN and EDESSA._ + +QUEEN. + +Oh! give me way, the haughty victor comes, +Surrounded by adoring multitudes; +On swelling tides of praise to heav'n they raise him; +To deck their idol, they rob the glorious beings +Of their splendour. + +EDESSA. + + My royal Lady, +Chace hence these passions. + +QUEEN. + + Peace, forever peace, +Have I not cause to hate this homicide? +'Twas by his cursed hand Vonones fell, +Yet fell not as became his gallant spirit, +Not by the warlike arm of chief renown'd, +But by a youth, ye Gods, a beardless stripling, +Stab'd by his dastard falchin from behind; +For well I know he fear'd to meet Vonones, +As princely warriors meet with open daring, +But shrunk amidst his guards, and gave him death, +When faint with wounds, and weary with the fight. + +EDESSA. + +With anguish I have heard his hapless fate, +And mourn'd in silence for the gallant Prince. + +QUEEN. + +Soft is thy nature, but, alas! Edessa, +Thy heart's a stranger to a mother's sorrows, +To see the pride of all her wishes blasted; +Thy fancy cannot paint the storm of grief, +Despair and anguish, which my breast has known. +Oh! show'r, ye Gods, your torments on Arsaces, +Curs'd be the morn which dawn'd upon his birth. + +EDESSA. + +Yet, I intreat-- + +QUEEN. + + Away! for I will curse-- +Oh! may he never know a father's fondness, +Or know it to his sorrow, may his hopes +Of joy be cut like mine, and his short life +Be one continu'd tempest; if he lives, +Let him be curs'd with jealousy and fear, +And vext with anguish of neglecting scorn; +May tort'ring hope present the flowing cup, +Then hasty snatch it from his eager thirst, +And when he dies base treach'ry be the means. + +EDESSA. + +Oh! calm your spirits. + +QUEEN. + + Yes, I'll now be calm, +Calm as the sea when the rude waves are laid, +And nothing but a gentle swell remains; +My curse is heard, and I shall have revenge; +There's something here which tells me 'twill be so, +And peace resumes her empire o'er my breast. +Vardanes is the Minister of Vengeance; +Fir'd by ambition, he aspiring seeks +T'adorn his brows with Parthia's diadem; +I've fann'd the fire, and wrought him up to fury, +Envy shall urge him forward still to dare, +And discord be the prelude to destruction, +Then this detested race shall feel my hate. + +EDESSA. + +And doth thy hatred then extend so far, +That innocent and guilty all alike +Must feel thy dreadful vengeance? + +QUEEN. + +Ah! Edessa, +Thou dost not know e'en half my mighty wrongs, +But in thy bosom I will pour my sorrows. + +EDESSA. + +With secrecy I ever have repaid +Your confidence. + +QUEEN. + + I know thou hast; then hear: +The changeling King who oft has kneel'd before me, +And own'd no other pow'r, now treats me +With ill dissembl'd love mix'd with disdain. +A newer beauty rules his faithless heart, +Which only in variety is blest; +Oft have I heard him, when wrapt up in sleep, +And wanton fancy rais'd the mimic scene, +Call with unusual fondness on Evanthe, +While I have lain neglected by his side, +Except sometimes in a mistaken rapture +He'd clasp me to his bosom. + +EDESSA. + + Oh! Madam, +Let not corroding jealousy usurp +Your Royal breast, unnumber'd ills attend +The wretch who entertains that fatal guest. + +QUEEN. + +Think not that I'll pursue its wand'ring fires, +No more I'll know perplexing doubts and fears, +And erring trace suspicion's endless maze, +For, ah! I doubt no more. + +EDESSA. + + Their shouts approach. + +QUEEN. + +Lead me, Edessa, to some peaceful gloom, +Some silent shade far from the walks of men, +There shall the hop'd revenge my thoughts employ, +And sooth my sorrows with the coming joy. + + +SCENE IV. _EVANTHE and CLEONE._ + +EVANTHE. + +No, I'll not meet him now, for love delights +In the soft pleasures of the secret shade, +And shuns the noise and tumult of the croud. +How tedious are the hours which bring him +To my fond, panting heart! for oh! to those +Who live in expectation of the bliss, +Time slowly creeps, and ev'ry tardy minute +Seems mocking of their wishes. Say, Cleone, +For you beheld the triumph, 'midst his pomp, +Did he not seem to curse the empty show, +The pageant greatness, enemy to love, +Which held him from Evanthe? haste, to tell me, +And feed my gready ear with the fond tale-- +Yet, hold--for I shall weary you with questions, +And ne'er be satisfied--Beware, Cleone, +And guard your heart from Love's delusive sweets. + +CLEONE. + +Is Love an ill, that thus you caution me +To shun his pow'r? + +EVANTHE. + + The Tyrant, my Cleone, +Despotic rules, and fetters all our thoughts. +Oh! wouldst thou love, then bid adieu to peace, +Then fears will come, and jealousies intrude, +Ravage your bosom, and disturb your quiet, +E'en pleasure to excess will be a pain. +Once I was free, then my exulting heart +Was like a bird that hops from spray to spray, +And all was innocence and mirth; but, lo! +The Fowler came, and by his arts decoy'd, +And soon the Wanton cag'd. Twice fifteen times +Has Cynthia dipt her horns in beams of light, +Twice fifteen times has wasted all her brightness, +Since first I knew to love; 'twas on that day +When curs'd Vonones fell upon the plain, +The lovely Victor doubly conquer'd me. + +CLEONE. + +Forgive my boldness, Madam, if I ask +What chance first gave you to Vonones' pow'r? +Curiosity thou know'st is of our sex. + +EVANTHE. + +That is a task will wake me to new sorrows, +Yet thou attend, and I will tell thee all. +Arabia gave me birth, my father held +Great Offices at Court, and was reputed +Brave, wise and loyal, by his Prince belov'd. +Oft has he led his conqu'ring troops, and forc'd +From frowning victory her awful honours. +In infancy I was his only treasure, +On me he wasted all his store of fondness. +Oh! I could tell thee of his wond'rous goodness, +His more than father's love and tenderness. +But thou wouldst jeer, and say the tale was trifling; +So did he dote upon me, for in childhood +My infant charms, and artless innocence +Blest his fond age, and won on ev'ry heart. +But, oh! from this sprung ev'ry future ill, +This fatal beauty was the source of all. + +CLEONE. + +'Tis often so, for beauty is a flow'r +That tempts the hand to pluck it. + +EVANTHE. + + Full three times +Has scorching summer fled from cold winter's +Ruthless blasts, as oft again has spring +In sprightly youth drest nature in her beauties, +Since bathing in Niphates'[5] silver stream, +Attended only by one fav'rite maid; +As we were sporting on the wanton waves, +Swift from the wood a troop of horsemen rush'd, +Rudely they seiz'd, and bore me trembling off, +In vain Edessa with her shrieks assail'd +The heav'ns, for heav'n was deaf to both our pray'rs. +The wretch whose insolent embrace confin'd me +(Like thunder bursting on the guilty soul), +With curs'd Vonones' voice pour'd in my ears +A hateful tale of love; for he it seems +Had seen me at Arabia's royal court, +And took those means to force me to his arms. + +CLEONE. + +Perhaps you may gain something from the Captives +Of your lost Parents. + +EVANTHE. + + This I meant to try, +Soon as the night hides Nature in her darkness, +Veil'd in the gloom we'll steal into their prison. +But, oh! perhaps e'en now my aged Sire +May 'mongst the slain lie welt'ring on the field, +Pierc'd like a riddle through with num'rous wounds, +While parting life is quiv'ring on his lips, +He may perhaps be calling on his Evanthe. +Yes, ye great Pow'rs who boast the name of mercy, +Ye have deny'd me to his latest moments, +To all the offices of filial duty, +To bind his wounds, and wash them with my tears, +Is this, is this your mercy? + +CLEONE. + + Blame not heav'n, +For heav'n is just and kind; dear Lady, drive +These black ideas from your gentle breast; +Fancy delights to torture the distress'd, +And fill the gloomy scene with shadowy ills, +Summon your reason, and you'll soon have comfort. + +EVANTHE. + +Dost thou name comfort to me, my Cleone, +Thou who know'st all my sorrows? plead no more, +'Tis reason tells me I am doubly wretched. + +CLEONE. + +But hark, the music strikes, the rites begin, +And, see, the doors are op'ning. + +EVANTHE. + + Let's retire; +My heart is now too full to meet him here, +Fly swift ye hours, till in his arms I'm prest, +And each intruding care is hush'd to rest. + + +SCENE V. + +_The Scene draws and discovers, in the inner part of the Temple, a + large image of the Sun, with an altar before it. Around Priests and + Attendants._ + +_KING, ARSACES, VARDANES, GOTARZES, PHRAATES, LYSIAS, with BETHAS in +chains._ + +HYMN. + + Parent of Light, to thee belong + Our grateful tributary songs; + Each thankful voice to thee shall rise, + And chearful pierce the azure skies; + While in thy praise all earth combines, + And Echo in the Chorus joins. + + All the gay pride of blooming May, + The Lily fair and blushing Rose, + To thee their early honours pay, + And all their heav'nly sweets disclose. + The feather'd Choir on ev'ry tree + To hail thy glorious dawn repair, + While the sweet sons of harmony + With Hallelujahs fill the air. + + 'Tis thou hast brac'd the Hero's arm, + And giv'n the Love of praise to warm + His bosom, as he onward flies, + And for his Country bravely dies. + Thine's victory, and from thee springs + Ambition's fire, which glows in Kings. + +KING [_coming forward_]. + +Thus, to the Gods our tributary songs, +And now, oh! let me welcome once again +My blooming victor to his Father's arms; +And let me thank thee for our safety: Parthia +Shall thank thee too, and give her grateful praise +To her Deliverer. + +OMNES. + + All hail! Arsaces! + +KING. + +Thanks to my loyal friends. + +VARDANES [_aside_]. + + Curse, curse the sound, +E'en Echo gives it back with int'rest, +The joyful gales swell with the pleasing theme, +And waft it far away to distant hills. +O that my breath was poison, then indeed +I'd hail him like the rest, but blast him too. + +ARSACES. + +My Royal Sire, these honours are unmerited, +Beneath your prosp'rous auspices I fought, +Bright vict'ry to your banners joyful flew, +And favour'd for the Sire the happy son. +But lenity should grace the victor's laurels, +Then, here, my gracious Father-- + +KING. + + Ha! 'tis Bethas! +Know'st thou, vain wretch, what fate attends on those +Who dare oppose the pow'r of mighty Kings, +Whom heav'n delights to favour? sure some God +Who sought to punish you for impious deeds, +'Twas urg'd you forward to insult our arms, +And brave us at our Royal City's gates. + +BETHAS. + +At honour's call, and at my King's command, +Tho' it were even with my single arm, again +I'd brave the multitude, which, like a deluge, +O'erwhelm'd my gallant handful; yea, wou'd meet +Undaunted, all the fury of the torrent. +'Tis honour is the guide of all my actions, +The ruling star by which I steer thro' life, +And shun the shelves of infamy and vice. + +KING. + +It was the thirst of gain which drew you on; +'Tis thus that Av'rice always cloaks its views, +Th' ambition of your Prince you gladly snatch'd +As opportunity to fill your coffers. +It was the plunder of our palaces, +And of our wealthy cities, fill'd your dreams, +And urg'd you on your way; but you have met +The due reward of your audacity. +Now shake your chains, shake and delight your ears +With the soft music of your golden fetters. + +BETHAS. + +True, I am fall'n, but glorious was my fall, +The day was brav'ly fought, we did our best, +But victory's of heav'n. Look o'er yon field, +See if thou findest one Arabian back +Disfigur'd with dishonourable wounds. +No, here, deep on their bosoms, are engrav'd +The marks of honour! 'twas thro' here their souls +Flew to their blissful seats. Oh! why did I +Survive the fatal day? To be this slave, +To be the gaze and sport of vulgar crouds, +Thus, like a shackl'd tyger, stalk my round, +And grimly low'r upon the shouting herd. +Ye Gods!-- + +KING. + + Away with him to instant death. + +ARSACES. + +Hear me, my Lord, O, not on this bright day, +Let not this day of joy blush with his blood. +Nor count his steady loyalty a crime, +But give him life, Arsaces humbly asks it, +And may you e'er be serv'd with honest hearts. + +KING. + +Well, be it so; hence, bear him to his dungeon; +Lysias, we here commit him to thy charge. + +BETHAS. + +Welcome my dungeon, but more welcome death. +Trust not too much, vain Monarch, to your pow'r, +Know fortune places all her choicest gifts +On ticklish heights, they shake with ev'ry breeze, +And oft some rude wind hurls them to the ground. +Jove's thunder strikes the lofty palaces, +While the low cottage, in humility, +Securely stands, and sees the mighty ruin. +What King can boast, to-morrow as to-day, +Thus, happy will I reign? The rising sun +May view him seated on a splendid throne, +And, setting, see him shake the servile chain. + + [_Exit guarded._ + + +SCENE VI. + +KING, ARSACES, VARDANES, GOTARZES, PHRAATES. + +GOTARZES. + +Thus let me hail thee from the croud distinct, +For in the exulting voice of gen'ral joy +My fainter sounds were lost, believe me, Brother, +My soul dilates with joy to see thee thus. + +ARSACES. + +Thus let me thank thee in this fond embrace. + +VARDANES. + +The next will be my turn, Gods, I had rather +Be circl'd in a venom'd serpent's fold. + +GOTARZES. + +O, my lov'd Brother, 'tis my humble boon, +That, when the war next calls you to the field, +I may attend you in the rage of battle. +By imitating thy heroic deeds, +Perhaps, I may rise to some little worth, +Beneath thy care I'll try my feeble wings, +Till taught by thee to soar to nobler heights. + +KING. + +Why, that's my boy, thy spirit speaks thy birth, +No more I'll turn thee from the road to glory, +To rust in slothfulness, with lazy Gownsmen. + +GOTARZES. + +Thanks, to my Sire, I'm now completely blest. + +ARSACES. + +But, I've another Brother, where's Vardanes? + +KING. + +Ha! what, methinks, he lurks behind the croud, +And wears a gloom which suits not with the time. + +VARDANES. + +Doubt not my Love, tho' I lack eloquence, +To dress my sentiments and catch the ear, +Tho' plain my manners, and my language rude, +My honest heart disdains to wear disguise. +Then think not I am slothful in the race, +Or, that my Brother springs before my Love. + +ARSACES. + +Far be suspicion from me. + +VARDANES. + + So, 'tis done, +Thanks to dissembling, all is well again. + +KING. + +Now let us forward, to the Temple go, +And let, with chearful wine, the goblets flow; +Let blink-ey'd Jollity his aid afford, +To crown our triumph, round the festive board: +But, let the wretch, whose soul can know a care, +Far from our joys, to some lone shade repair, +In secrecy, there let him e'er remain, +Brood o'er his gloom, and still increase his pain. + +_End of the First Act._ + + + + +ACT II. + + +SCENE I. _A Prison._ + +LYSIAS [_alone_]. + +The Sun set frowning, and refreshing Eve +Lost all its sweets, obscur'd in double gloom. +This night shall sleep be stranger to these eyes, +Peace dwells not here, and slumber flies the shock; +My spirits, like the elements, are warring, +And mock the tempest with a kindred rage-- +I, who can joy in nothing, but revenge, +Know not those boasted ties of Love and Friendship; +Vardanes I regard, but as he give me +Some hopes of vengeance on the Prince Arsaces-- +But, ha! he comes, wak'd by the angry storm, +'Tis to my wish, thus would I form designs, +Horror should breed beneath the veil of horror, +And darkness aid conspiracies--He's here-- + + +SCENE II. _VARDANES and LYSIAS._ + +LYSIAS. + +Welcome, my noble Prince. + +VARDANES. + + Thanks, gentle friend; +Heav'ns! what a night is this! + +LYSIAS. + + 'Tis fill'd with terror; +Some dread event beneath this horror lurks, +Ordain'd by fate's irrevocable doom; +Perhaps Arsaces' fall--and angry heav'n +Speaks it, in thunder, to the trembling world. + +VARDANES. + +Terror indeed! it seems as sick'ning Nature +Had giv'n her order up to gen'ral ruin; +The Heav'ns appear as one continu'd flame, +Earth with her terror shakes, dim night retires, +And the red lightning gives a dreadful day, +While in the thunder's voice each sound is lost; +Fear sinks the panting heart in ev'ry bosom, +E'en the pale dead, affrighted at the horror, +As tho' unsafe, start from their marble goals, +And howling thro' the streets are seeking shelter. + +LYSIAS. + +I saw a flash stream thro' the angry clouds, +And bend its course to where a stately pine +Behind the garden stood, quickly it seiz'd, +And wrapt it in a fiery fold, the trunk +Was shiver'd into atoms, and the branches +Off were lopt, and wildly scatter'd round. + +VARDANES. + +Why rage the elements, they are not curs'd +Like me? Evanthe frowns not angry on them, +The wind may play upon her beauteous bosom +Nor fear her chiding, light can bless her sense, +And in the floating mirror she beholds +Those beauties which can fetter all mankind. +Earth gives her joy, she plucks the fragrant rose, +Pleas'd takes its sweets, and gazes on its bloom. + +LYSIAS. + +My Lord, forget her, tear her from your breast. +Who, like the Phoenix gazes on the sun, +And strives to soar up to the glorious blaze, +Should never leave Ambition's brightest object, +To turn, and view the beauties of a flow'r. + +VARDANES. + +O, Lysias, chide no more, for I have done. +Yes, I'll forget this proud disdainful beauty; +Hence, with vain love--Ambition, now, alone, +Shall guide my actions, since mankind delights +To give me pain, I'll study mischief too, +And shake the earth, e'en like this raging tempest. + +LYSIAS. + +A night like this, so dreadful to behold, +Since my remembrance's birth, I never saw. + +VARDANES. + +E'en such a night, dreadful as this, they say, +My teeming Mother gave me to the world. +Whence by those sages who, in knowledge rich, +Can pry into futurity, and tell +What distant ages will produce of wonder, +My days were deem'd to be a hurricane; +My early life prov'd their prediction false; +Beneath a sky serene my voyage began, +But, to this long uninterrupted calm, +Storms shall succeed. + +LYSIAS. + + Then haste, to raise the tempest; +My soul disdains this one eternal round, +Where each succeeding day is like the former. +Trust me, my noble Prince, here is a heart +Steady and firm to all your purposes, +And here's a hand that knows to execute +Whate'er designs thy daring breast can form, +Nor ever shake with fear. + +VARDANES. + + And I will use it, +Come to my bosom, let me place thee here, +How happy am I clasping so much virtue! +Now, by the light, it is my firm belief, +One mighty soul in common swells our bosoms, +Such sameness can't be match'd in diff'rent beings. + +LYSIAS. + +Your confidence, my Lord, much honours me, +And when I act unworthy of your love +May I be hooted from Society, +As tho' disgraceful to the human kind, +And driv'n to herd among the savage race. + +VARDANES. + +Believe me, Lysias, I do not know +A single thought which tends toward suspicion, +For well I know thy worth, when I affront it, +By the least doubt, may I be ever curs'd +With faithless friends, and by his dagger fall +Whom my deluded wishes most would favour. + +LYSIAS. + +Then let's no longer trifle time away, +I'm all impatience till I see thy brows +Bright in the glories of a diadem; +My soul is fill'd with anguish when I think +That by weak Princes worn, 'tis thus disgrac'd. +Haste, mount the throne, and, like the morning Sun, +Chace with your piercing beams those mists away, +Which dim the glory of the Parthian state: +Each honest heart desires it, numbers there are +Ready to join you, and support your cause, +Against th' opposing faction. + +VARDANES. + + Sure some God, +Bid you thus call me to my dawning honours, +And joyful I obey the pleasing summons. +Now by the pow'rs of heav'n, of earth and hell, +Most solemnly I swear, I will not know +That quietude which I was wont to know, +'Til I have climb'd the height of all my wishes, +Or fell, from glory, to the silent grave. + +LYSIAS. + +Nobly resolv'd, and spoken like Vardanes, +There shone my Prince in his superior lustre. + +VARDANES. + +But, then, Arsaces, he's a fatal bar-- +O! could I brush this busy insect from me, +Which envious strives to rob me of my bloom, +Then might I, like some fragrant op'ning flow'r, +Spread all my beauties in the face of day. +Ye Gods! why did ye give me such a soul +(A soul, which ev'ry way is form'd for Empire), +And damn me with a younger Brother's right? +The diadem would set as well on mine, +As on the brows of any lordly He; +Nor is this hand weak to enforce command. +And shall I steal into my grave, and give +My name up to oblivion, to be thrown +Among the common rubbish of the times? +No: Perish first, this happy hated Brother. + +LYSIAS. + +I always wear a dagger, for your service, +I need not speak the rest-- +When humbly I intreated of your Brother +T' attend him as Lieutenant in this war, +Frowning contempt, he haughtily reply'd, +He entertain'd not Traitors in his service. +True, I betray'd Orodes, but with cause, +He struck me, like a sorry abject slave, +And still withheld from giving what he'd promis'd. +Fear not Arsaces, believe me, he shall +Soon his Quietus have--But, see, he comes,-- +What can this mean? Why at this lonely hour, +And unattended?--Ha! 'tis opportune-- +I'll in, and stab him now. I heed not what +The danger is, so I but have revenge, +Then heap perdition on me. + +VARDANES. + + Hold, awhile-- +'Twould be better could we undermine him, +And make him fall by Artabanus' doom. + +LYSIAS. + +Well, be it so-- + +VARDANES. + + But let us now retire, +We must not be observ'd together here. + + +SCENE III. + +ARSACES [_alone_]. + +'Tis here that hapless Bethas is confin'd; +He who, but yesterday, like angry Jove, +When punishing the crimes of guilty men, +Spread death and desolation all around, +While Parthia trembl'd at his name; is now +Unfriended and forlorn, and counts the hours, +Wrapt in the gloomy horrors of a goal.-- +How dark, and hidden, are the turns of fate! +His rigid fortune moves me to compassion. +O! 'tis a heav'nly virtue when the heart +Can feel the sorrows of another's bosom, +It dignifies the man: The stupid wretch +Who knows not this sensation, is an image, +And wants the feeling to make up a life-- +I'll in, and give my aid to sooth his sorrows. + + +SCENE IV. + +_VARDANES and LYSIAS._ + +LYSIAS. + +Let us observe with care, something we, yet, +May gather, to give to us the vantage; +No matter what's the intent. + +VARDANES. + + How easy 'tis +To cheat this busy, tattling, censuring world! +For fame still names our actions, good or bad, +As introduc'd by chance, which ofttimes throws +Wrong lights on objects; vice she dresses up-- +In the bright form, and goodliness, of virtue, +While virtue languishes, and pines neglected, +Rob'd of her lustre--But, let's forward, Lysias-- +Thou know'st each turn in this thy dreary rule, +Then lead me to some secret stand, from whence, +Unnotic'd, all their actions we may view. + +LYSIAS. + +Here, take your stand behind--See, Bethas comes. + + [_They retire._ + + +SCENE V. + +BETHAS [_alone_]. + +To think on Death in gloomy solitude, +In dungeons and in chains, when expectation +Join'd with serious thought describe him to us, +His height'n'd terrors strike upon the soul +With awful dread; imagination rais'd +To frenzy, plunges in a sea of horror, +And tastes the pains, the agonies of dying-- +Ha! who is this, perhaps he bears my fate? +It must be so, but, why this privacy? + + +SCENE VI. + +_ARSACES and BETHAS._ + +ARSACES. + +Health to the noble Bethas, health and joy! + +BETHAS. + +A steady harden'd villain, one experienc'd +In his employment; ha! where's thy dagger? +It cannot give me fear; I'm ready, see, +My op'ning bosom tempts the friendly steel. +Fain would I cast this tiresome being off, +Like an old garment worn to wretchedness. +Here, strike for I'm prepar'd. + +ARSACES. + + Oh! view me better, +Say, do I wear the gloomy ruffian's frown? + +BETHAS. + +Ha! 'tis the gallant Prince, the brave Arsaces, +And Bethas' Conqueror. + +ARSACES. + + And Bethas' friend, +A name I'm proud to wear. + +BETHAS. + + Away--away-- +Mock with your jester to divert the court, +Fit Scene for sportive joys and frolic mirth; +Think'st thou I lack that manly constancy +Which braves misfortune, and remains unshaken? +Are these, are these the emblems of thy friendship, +These rankling chains, say, does it gall like these? +No, let me taste the bitterness of sorrow, +For I am reconcil'd to wretchedness. +The Gods have empty'd all their mighty store, +Of hoarded Ills, upon my whiten'd age; +Now death--but, oh! I court coy death in vain, +Like a cold maid, he scorns my fond complaining. +'Tis thou, insulting Prince, 'tis thou hast dragg'd +My soul, just rising, down again to earth, +And clogg'd her wings with dull mortality, +A hateful bondage! Why-- + +ARSACES. + + A moment hear me-- + +BETHAS. + +Why dost thou, like an angry vengeful ghost, +Glide hither to disturb this peaceful gloom? +What, dost thou envy me my miseries, +My chains and flinty pavement, where I oft +In sleep behold the image of the death I wish, +Forget my sorrows and heart-breaking anguish? +These horrors I would undisturb'd enjoy, +Attended only by my silent thoughts; +Is it to see the wretch that you have made; +To view the ruins of unhappy Bethas, +And triumph in my grief? Is it for this +You penetrate my dark joyless prison? + +ARSACES. + +Oh! do not injure me by such suspicions. +Unknown to me are cruel scoffs and jests; +My breast can feel compassion's tenderness, +The warrior's warmth, the soothing joys of friendship. +When adverse bold battalions shook the earth, +And horror triumph'd on the hostile field, +I sought you with a glorious enmity, +And arm'd my brow with the stern frown of war. +But now the angry trumpet wakes no more +The youthful champion to the lust for blood. +Retiring rage gives place to softer passions, +And gen'rous warriors know no longer hate, +The name of foe is lost, and thus I ask +Your friendship. + +BETHAS. + + Ah! why dost thou mock me thus? + +ARSACES. + +Let the base coward, he who ever shrinks, +And trembles, at the slight name of danger, +Taunt, and revile, with bitter gibes, the wretched; +The brave are ever to distress a friend. +Tho' my dear country (spoil'd by wasteful war, +Her harvests blazing, desolate her towns, +And baleful ruin shew'd her haggard face) +Call'd out on me to save her from her foes, +And I obey'd, yet to your gallant prowess, +And unmatch'd deeds, I admiration gave. +But now my country knows the sweets of safety, +Freed from her fears; sure now I may indulge +My just esteem for your superior virtue. + +BETHAS. + +Yes, I must think you what you would be thought, +For honest minds are easy of belief, +And always judge of others by themselves, +But often are deceiv'd; yet Parthia breeds not +Virtue much like thine, the barb'rous clime teems +With nought else but villains vers'd in ill. + +ARSACES. + +Dissimulation never mark'd my looks, +Nor flatt'ring deceit e'er taught my tongue, +The tale of falsehood, to disguise my thoughts: +To Virtue, and her fair companion, Truth, +I've ever bow'd, their holy precepts kept, +And scann'd by them the actions of my life. +Suspicion surely ne'er disturbs the brave, +They never know the fears of doubting thoughts; +But free, as are the altars of the Gods, +From ev'ry hand receive the sacrifice. + + +SCENE VII. + +_ARSACES, BETHAS, EVANTHE and CLEONE._ + +EVANTHE. + +Heav'ns! what a gloom hangs round this dreadful place, +Fit habitation for the guilty mind! +Oh! if such terrors wait the innocent, +Which tread these vaults, what must the impious feel, +Who've all their crimes to stare them in the face? + +BETHAS. + +Immortal Gods! is this reality? +Or mere illusion? am I blest at last, +Or is it to torment me that you've rais'd +This semblance of Evanthe to my eyes? +It is! it is! 'tis she!-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha!--what means this?-- +She faints! she faints! life has forsook its seat, +Pale Death usurps its place--Evanthe, Oh! +Awake to life!--Love and Arsaces call!-- + +BETHAS. + +Off--give her to my arms, my warm embrace +Shall melt Death's icy chains. + +CLEONE. + + She lives! she lives!-- +See, on her cheeks the rosy glow returns. + +ARSACES. + +O joy! O joy! her op'ning eyes, again, +Break, like the morning sun, a better day. + +BETHAS. + +Evanthe!-- + +EVANTHE. + + Oh! my Father!-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha!--her Father! + +BETHAS. + +Heav'n thou art kind at last, and this indeed +Is recompense for all the ills I've past; +For all the sorrows which my heart has known, +Each wakeful night, and ev'ry day of anguish. +This, this has sweet'n'd all my bitter cup, +And gave me once again to taste of joy, +Joy which has long been stranger to this bosom. +Hence--hence disgrace--off, ignominy off-- +But one embrace--I ask but one embrace, +And 'tis deny'd. + +EVANTHE. + + Oh, yes, around thy neck +I'll fold my longing arms, thy softer fetters, +Thus press thee to my happy breast, and kiss +Away those tears that stain thy aged cheeks. + +BETHAS. + +Oh! 'tis too much! it is too much! ye Gods! +Life's at her utmost stretch, and bursting near +With heart-swoln ecstasy; now let me die. + +ARSACES. + + What marble heart +Could see this scene unmov'd, nor give a tear? +My eyes grow dim, and sympathetic passion +Falls like a gushing torrent on my bosom. + +EVANTHE. + +O! happy me, this place, which lately seem'd +So fill'd with horror, now is pleasure's circle. +Here will I fix my seat; my pleasing task +Shall be to cherish thy remaining life. +All night I'll keep a vigil o'er thy slumbers, +And on my breast repose thee, mark thy dreams, +And when thou wak'st invent some pleasing tale, +Or with my songs the tedious hours beguile. + +BETHAS. + +Still let me gaze, still let me gaze upon thee, +Let me strain ev'ry nerve with ravishment, +And all my life be center'd in my vision. +To see thee thus, to hear thy angel voice, +It is, indeed, a luxury of pleasure!-- +Speak, speak again, for oh! 'tis heav'n to hear thee! +Celestial sweetness dwells on ev'ry accent;-- +Lull me to rest, and sooth my raging joy. +Joy which distracts me with unruly transports. +Now, by thy dear departed Mother's shade, +Thou brightest pattern of all excellence, +Thou who in prattling infancy hast blest me, +I wou'd not give this one transporting moment, +This fullness of delight, for all--but, ah! +'Tis vile, Ambition, Glory, all is vile, +To the soft sweets of love and tenderness. + +EVANTHE. + +Now let me speak, my throbbing heart is full, +I'll tell thee all--alas! I have forgot-- +'T 'as slipt me in the tumult of my joy. +And yet I thought that I had much to say. + +BETHAS. + +Oh! I have curs'd my birth, indeed, I have +Blasphem'd the Gods, with unbecoming passion, +Arraign'd their Justice, and defy'd their pow'r, +In bitterness, because they had deny'd +Thee to support the weakness of my age. +But now no more I'll rail and rave at fate, +All its decrees are just, complaints are impious, +Whate'er short-sighted mortals feel, springs from +Their blindness in the ways of Providence; +Sufficient wisdom 'tis for man to know +That the great Ruler is e'er wise and good. + +ARSACES. + +Ye figur'd stones! +Ye senseless, lifeless images of men, +Who never gave a tear to others' woe, +Whose bosoms never glow'd for others' good, +O weary heav'n with your repeated pray'rs, +And strive to melt the angry pow'rs to pity, +That ye may truly live. + +EVANTHE. + + Oh! how my heart +Beats in my breast, and shakes my trembling frame! +I sink beneath this sudden flood of joy, +Too mighty for my spirits. + +ARSACES. + + My Evanthe, +Thus in my arms I catch thy falling beauties, +Chear thee; and kiss thee back to life again: +Thus to my bosom I could ever hold thee, +And find new pleasure. + +EVANTHE. + + O! my lov'd Arsaces, +Forgive me that I saw thee not before, +Indeed my soul was busily employ'd, +Nor left a single thought at liberty. +But thou, I know, art gentleness and love. +Now I am doubly paid for all my sorrows, +For all my fears for thee. + +ARSACES. + + Then, fear no more: +Give to guilty wretches painful terrors: +Whose keen remembrance raises horrid forms, +Shapes that in spite of nature shock their souls +With dreadful anguish: but thy gentle bosom, +Where innocence beams light and gayety, +Can never know a fear, now shining joy +Shall gild the pleasing scene. + +EVANTHE. + + Alas! this joy +I fear is like a sudden flame shot from +Th' expiring taper, darkness will ensue, +And double night I dread enclose us round. +Anxiety does yet disturb my breast, +And frightful apprehension shakes my soul. + +BETHAS. + +How shall I thank you, ye bright glorious beings! +Shall I in humble adoration bow, +Or fill the earth with your resounding praise? +No, this I leave to noisy hypocrites, +A Mortal's tongue disgraces such a theme; +But heav'n delights where silent gratitude +Mounts each aspiring thought to its bright throne, +Nor leaves to language aught; words may indeed +From man to man their sev'ral wants express, +Heav'n asks the purer incense of the heart. + +ARSACES. + +I'll to the King, ere he retires to rest, +Nor will I leave him 'til I've gain'd your freedom; +His love will surely not deny me this. + + +SCENE VIII. + +_VARDANES and LYSIAS come forward._ + +LYSIAS. + +'Twas a moving scene, e'en my rough nature +Was nighly melted. + +VARDANES. + + Hence coward pity-- +What is joy to them, to me is torture. +Now am I rack'd with pains that far exceed +Those agonies, which fabling Priests relate, +The damn'd endure: The shock of hopeless Love, +Unblest with any views to sooth ambition, +Rob me of all my reas'ning faculties. +Arsaces gains Evanthe, fills the throne, +While I am doom'd to foul obscurity, +To pine and grieve neglected. + +LYSIAS. + + My noble Prince, +Would it not be a master-piece, indeed, +To make this very bliss their greatest ill, +And damn them in the very folds of joy? + +VARDANES. + +This I will try, and stretch my utmost art, +Unknown is yet the means--We'll think on that-- +Success may follow if you'll lend your aid. + +LYSIAS. + +The storm still rages--I must to the King, +And know what further orders ere he sleeps: +Soon I'll return, and speak my mind more fully. + +VARDANES. + +Haste, Lysias, haste, to aid me with thy council; +For without thee, all my designs will prove +Like night and chaos, darkness and confusion; +But to thy word shall light and order spring.-- +Let coward Schoolmen talk of Virtue's rules, +And preach the vain Philosophy of fools; +Court eager their obscurity, afraid +To taste a joy, and in some gloomy shade +Dream o'er their lives, while in a mournful strain +They sing of happiness they never gain. +But form'd for nobler purposes I come, +To gain a crown, or else a glorious tomb. + +_End of the Second Act._ + + + + +ACT III. + + +SCENE I. _The Palace._ + +_QUEEN and EDESSA._ + +QUEEN. + +Talk not of sleep to me, the God of Rest +Disdains to visit where disorder reigns; +Not beds of down, nor music's softest strains, +Can charm him when 'tis anarchy within. +He flies with eager haste the mind disturb'd, +And sheds his blessings where the soul's in peace. + +EDESSA. + +Yet, hear me, Madam! + +QUEEN. + + Hence, away, Edessa, +For thou know'st not the pangs of jealousy. +Say, has he not forsook my bed, and left me +Like a lone widow mourning to the night? +This, with the injury his son has done me, +If I forgive, may heav'n in anger show'r +Its torments on me--Ha! isn't that the King! + +EDESSA. + +It is your Royal Lord, great Artabanus. + +QUEEN. + +Leave me, for I would meet him here alone, +Something is lab'ring in my breast-- + + +SCENE II. + +_KING and QUEEN._ + +KING. + + This leads +To fair Evanthe's chamber--Ha! the Queen. + +QUEEN. + +Why dost thou start? so starts the guilty wretch, +When, by some watchful eye, prevented from +His dark designs. + +KING. + + Prevented! how, what mean'st thou? + +QUEEN. + +Art thou then so dull? cannot thy heart, +Thy changeling heart, explain my meaning to thee, +Or must upbraiding 'wake thy apprehension? +Ah! faithless, tell me, have I lost those charms +Which thou so oft hast sworn could warm old age, +And tempt the frozen hermit from his cell, +To visit once again our gayer world? +This, thou hast sworn, perfidious as thou art, +A thousand times; as often hast thou sworn +Eternal constancy, and endless love, +Yet ev'ry time was perjur'd. + +KING. + + Sure, 'tis frenzy. + +QUEEN. + +Indeed, 'tis frenzy, 'tis the height of madness, +For I have wander'd long in sweet delusion. +At length the pleasing Phantom chang'd its form, +And left me in a wilderness of woe. + +KING. + +Prithee, no more, dismiss those jealous heats; +Love must decay, and soon disgust arise, +Where endless jarrings and upbraidings damp +The gentle flame, which warms the lover's breast. + +QUEEN. + +Oh! grant me patience heav'n! and dost thou think +By these reproaches to disguise thy guilt? +No, 'tis in vain, thy art's too thin to hide it. + +KING. + +Curse on the marriage chain!--the clog, a wife, +Who still will force and pall us with the joy, +Tho' pow'r is wanting, and the will is cloy'd, +Still urge the debt when Nothing's left to pay. + +QUEEN. + +Ha! dost thou own thy crime, nor feel the glow +Of conscious shame? + +KING. + + Why should I blush, if heav'n +Has made me as I am, and gave me passions? +Blest only in variety, then blame +The Gods, who form'd my nature thus, not me. + +QUEEN. + +Oh! Traitor! Villain! + +KING. + + Hence--away-- +No more I'll wage a woman's war with words. [_Exit._ + +QUEEN. + +Down, down ye rising passions, give me ease, +Or break my heart, for I must yet be calm-- +But, yet, revenge, our Sex's joy, is mine; +By all the Gods! he lives not till the morn. +Who slights my love, shall sink beneath my hate. + + +SCENE III. + +_QUEEN and VARDANES._ + +VARDANES. + +What, raging to the tempest? + +QUEEN. + + Away!--away!-- +Yes, I will rage--a tempest's here within, +Above the trifling of the noisy elements. +Blow ye loud winds, burst with your violence, +For ye but barely imitate the storm +That wildly rages in my tortur'd breast-- +The King--the King-- + +VARDANES. + + Ha! what?--the King? + +QUEEN. + + Evanthe! + +VARDANES. + +You talk like riddles, still obscure and short, +Give me some cue to guide me thro' this maze. + +QUEEN. + +Ye pitying pow'rs!--oh! for a poison, some +Curs'd deadly draught, that I might blast her beauties, +And rob her eyes of all their fatal lustre. + +VARDANES. + +What, blast her charms?--dare not to think of it-- +Shocking impiety;--the num'rous systems +Which gay creation spreads, bright blazing suns, +With all th' attendant planets circling round, +Are not worth half the radiance of her eyes. +She's heav'n's peculiar care, good spir'ts hover +Round, a shining band, to guard her beauties. + +QUEEN. + +Be they watchful then: for should remissness +Taint the guard, I'll snatch the opportunity, +And hurl her to destruction. + +VARDANES. + + Dread Thermusa, +Say, what has rous'd this tumult in thy soul? +What dost thou rage with unabating fury, +Wild as the winds, loud as the troubl'd sea? + +QUEEN. + +Yes, I will tell thee--Evanthe--curse her-- +With charms--Would that my curses had the pow'r +To kill, destroy, and blast where e'er I hate, +Then would I curse, still curse, till death should seize +The dying accents on my falt'ring tongue. +So should this world, and the false changeling man +Be buried in one universal ruin. + +VARDANES. + +Still err'st thou from the purpose. + +QUEEN. + + Ha! 'tis so-- +Yes I will tell thee--for I know fond fool, +Deluded wretch, thou dotest on Evanthe-- +Be that thy greatest curse, be curs'd like me, +With jealousy and rage, for know, the King, +Thy father, is thy rival. + + +SCENE IV. + +VARDANES [_alone_]. + + Ha! my rival! +How knew she that?--yet stay--she's gone--my rival, +What then? he is Arsaces' rival too. +Ha!--this may aid and ripen my designs-- +Could I but fire the King with jealousy, +And then accuse my Brother of Intrigues +Against the state--ha!--join'd with Bethas, and +Confed'rate with th' Arabians--'tis most likely +That jealousy would urge him to belief. +I'll sink my claim until some fitter time, +'Til opportunity smiles on my purpose. +Lysias already has receiv'd the mandate +For Bethas' freedom: Let them still proceed, +This harmony shall change to discord soon. +Fortune methinks of late grows wond'rous kind, +She scarcely leaves me to employ myself. + + +SCENE V. + +KING, ARSACES, VARDANES. + +KING. + +But where's Evanthe? Where's the lovely Maid? + +ARSACES. + +On the cold pavement, by her aged Sire, +The dear companion of his solitude, +She sits, nor can persuasion make her rise; +But in the wild extravagance of joy +She weeps, then smiles, like April's sun, thro' show'rs. +While with strain'd eyes he gazes on her face, +And cries, in ecstacy, "Ye gracious pow'rs! +It is too much, it is too much to bear!" +Then clasps her to his breast, while down his cheeks +Large drops each other trace, and mix with hers. + +KING. + +Thy tale is moving, for my eyes o'erflow-- +How slow does Lysias with Evanthe creep! +So moves old time when bringing us to bliss. +Now war shall cease, no more of war I'll have, +Death knows satiety, and pale destruction +Turns loathing from his food, thus forc'd on him. +The triffling dust, the cause of all this ruin, +The trade of death shall urge no more.-- + + +SCENE VI. + +KING, ARSACES, VARDANES, EVANTHE, LYSIAS. + +KING. + + Evanthe!-- +See pleasure's goddess deigns to dignify +The happy scene, and make our bliss complete. +So Venus, from her heav'nly seat, descends +To bless the gay Cythera with her presence; +A thousand smiling graces wait the goddess, +A thousand little loves are flutt'ring round, +And joy is mingl'd with the beauteous train. + +EVANTHE. + +O! Royal Sir, thus lowly to the ground +I bend, in humble gratitude, accept +My thanks, for this thy goodness, words are vile +T' express the image of my lively thought, +And speak the grateful fulness of my heart. +All I can say, is that I now am happy, +And that thy giving hand has made me blest. + +KING. + +O! rise, Evanthe rise, this lowly posture +Suits not with charms like thine, they should command, +And ev'ry heart exult in thy behests;-- +But, where's thy aged Sire? + +EVANTHE. + + This sudden turn +Of fortune has so wrought upon his frame, +His limbs could not support him to thy presence. + +ARSACES. + +This, this is truly great, this is the Hero, +Like heav'n, to scatter blessings 'mong mankind +And e'er delight in making others happy. +Cold is the praise which waits the victor's triumph +(Who thro' a sea of blood has rush'd to glory), +To the o'erflowings of a grateful heart, +By obligations conquer'd: Yet, extend +Thy bounty unto me. [_Kneels._ + +KING. + + Ha! rise Arsaces. + +ARSACES. + +Not till you grant my boon. + +KING. + + Speak, and 'tis thine-- +Wide thro' our kingdom let thy eager wishes +Search for some jewel worthy of thy seeing; +Something that's fit to show the donor's bounty, +And by the glorious sun, our worship'd God, +Thou shalt not have denial; e'en my crown +Shall gild thy brows with shining beams of Empire. +With pleasure I'll resign to thee my honours, +I long for calm retirement's softer joys. + +ARSACES. + +Long may you wear it, grant it bounteous heav'n, +And happiness attend it; 'tis my pray'r +That daily rises with the early sweets +Of nature's incense, and the lark's loud strain. +'Tis not the unruly transport of ambition +That urges my desires to ask your crown; +Let the vain wretch, who prides in gay dominion, +Who thinks not of the great ones' weighty cares, +Enjoy his lofty wish, wide spreading rule. +The treasure which I ask, put in the scale, +Would over-balance all that Kings can boast, +Empire and diadems. + +KING. + + Away, that thought-- +Name it, haste--speak. + +ARSACES. + + For all the dang'rous toil, +Thirst, hunger, marches long that I've endur'd, +For all the blood I've in thy service spent, +Reward me with Evanthe. + +KING. + + Ha! what said'st thou?-- + +VARDANES. + +The King is mov'd, and angry bites his lip.-- +Thro' my benighted soul all-cheering hope [_Aside._ +Beams, like an orient sun, reviving joy. + +ARSACES. + +The stern Vonones ne'er could boast a merit +But loving her. + +KING. + + Ah! curse the hated name-- +Yes, I remember when the fell ruffian +Directed all his fury at my life; +Then sent, by pitying heav'n, t' assert the right +Of injur'd Majesty, thou, Arsaces, +Taught him the duty he ne'er knew before, +And laid the Traitor dead. + +ARSACES. + + My Royal Sire! + +LYSIAS. + +My Liege, the Prince still kneels. + +KING. + + Ha!--rebel, off-- [_Strikes him._ +What, Lysias, did I strike thee? forgive my rage-- +The name of curs'd Vonones fires my blood, +And gives me up to wrath.-- + +LYSIAS. + + I am your slave, +Sway'd by your pleasure--when I forget it, +May this keen dagger, which I mean to hide +Deep in his bosom, pierce my vitals thro'. [_Aside._ + +KING. + +Didst thou not name Evanthe? + +ARSACES. + + I did, my Lord! +And, say, whom should I name but her, in whom +My soul has center'd all her happiness? +Nor canst thou blame me, view her wond'rous charms, +She's all perfection; bounteous heav'n has form'd her +To be the joy, and wonder of mankind; +But language is too vile to speak her beauties. +Here ev'ry pow'r of glowing fancy's lost: +Rose blush secure, ye lilies still enjoy +Your silver whiteness, I'll not rob your charms +To deck the bright comparison; for here +It sure must fail. + +KING. + + He's wanton in her praise-- [_Aside._ +I tell thee, Prince, hadst thou as many tongues, +As days have wasted since creation's birth, +They were too few to tell the mighty theme. + +EVANTHE. + +I'm lost! I'm lost! [_Aside._ + +ARSACES. + + Then I'll be dumb for ever. + +KING. + +O rash and fatal oath! is there no way, +No winding path to shun this precipice, +But must I fall and dash my hopes to atoms? +In vain I strive, thought but perplexes me, +Yet shews no hold to bear me up--now, hold +My heart a while--she's thine--'tis done. + +ARSACES. + + In deep +Prostration, I thank my Royal Father. + +KING. + +A sudden pain shoots thro' my trembling breast-- +Lend me thy arm Vardanes--cruel pow'rs! + + +SCENE VII. + +_ARSACES and EVANTHE._ + +EVANTHE [_after a pause_]. + +E'er since the dawn of my unhappy life +Joy never shone serenely on my soul; +Still something interven'd to cloud my day. +Tell me, ye pow'rs, unfold the hidden crime +For which I'm doom'd to this eternal woe, +Thus still to number o'er my hours with tears? +The Gods are just I know, nor are decrees +In hurry shuffl'd out, but where the bolt +Takes its direction justice points the mark. +Yet still in vain I search within my breast, +I find no sins are there to shudder at-- +Nought but the common frailties of our natures. +Arsaces,--Oh!-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha! why that look of anguish? +Why didst thou name me with that sound of sorrow? +Ah! say, why stream those gushing tears so fast +From their bright fountain? sparkling joy should now +Be lighten'd in thine eye, and pleasure glow +Upon thy rosy cheek;--ye sorrows hence-- +'Tis love shall triumph now. + +EVANTHE. + + Oh! [_Sighs._ + +ARSACES. + + What means that sigh? +Tell me why heaves thy breast with such emotion? +Some dreadful thought is lab'ring for a vent, +Haste, give it loose, ere strengthen'd by confinement +It wrecks thy frame, and tears its snowy prison. +Is sorrow then so pleasing that you hoard it +With as much love, as misers do their gold? +Give me my share of sorrows. + +EVANTHE. + + Ah! too soon +You'll know what I would hide. + +ARSACES. + + Be it from thee-- +The dreadful tale, when told by thee, shall please; +Haste, to produce it with its native terrors, +My steady soul shall still remain unshaken; +For who when bless'd with beauties like to thine +Would e'er permit a sorrow to intrude? +Far hence in darksome shades does sorrow dwell, +Where hapless wretches thro' the awful gloom, +Echo their woes, and sighing to the winds, +Augment with tears the gently murm'ring stream; +But ne'er disturbs such happiness as mine. + +EVANTHE. + +Oh! 'tis not all thy boasted happiness, +Can save thee from disquietude and care; +Then build not too securely on these joys, +For envious sorrow soon will undermine, +And let the goodly structure fall to ruin. + +ARSACES. + +I charge thee, by our mutual vows, Evanthe, +Tell me, nor longer keep me in suspense: +Give me to know the utmost rage of fate. + +EVANTHE. + +Then know--impossible!-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha! dost thou fear +To shock me?-- + +EVANTHE. + + Know, thy Father--loves Evanthe.-- + +ARSACES. + +Loves thee? + +EVANTHE. + + Yea, e'en to distraction loves me. +Oft at my feet he's told the moving tale, +And woo'd me with the ardency of youth. +I pitied him indeed, but that was all, +Thou would'st have pitied too. + +ARSACES. + + I fear 'tis true; +A thousand crouding circumstances speak it. +Ye cruel Gods! I've wreck'd a Father's peace, +Oh! bitter thought! + +EVANTHE. + + Didst thou observe, Arsaces, +How reluctant he gave me to thy arms? + +ARSACES. + +Yes, I observ'd that when he gave thee up, +It seem'd as tho' he gave his precious life. +And who'd forego the heav'n of thy love? +To rest on thy soft swelling breast, and in +Sweet slumbers sooth each sharp intruding care? +Oh! it were bliss, such as immortals taste, +To press thy ruby lips distilling sweets, +Or circl'd in thy snowy arms to snatch +A joy, that Gods---- + +EVANTHE. + + Come, then, my much-lov'd Prince, +Let's seek the shelter of some kind retreat. +Happy Arabia opens wide her arms, +There may we find some friendly solitude, +Far from the noise and hurry of the Court. +Ambitious views shall never blast our joys, +Or tyrant Fathers triumph o'er our wills: +There may we live like the first happy pair +Cloth'd in primeval innocence secure. +Our food untainted by luxurious arts, +Plain, simple, as our lives, shall not destroy +The health it should sustain; while the clear brook +Affords the cooling draught our thirsts to quench. +There, hand in hand, we'll trace the citron grove, +While with the songsters' round I join my voice, +To hush thy cares and calm thy ruffl'd soul: +Or, on some flow'ry bank reclin'd, my strains +Shall captivate the natives of the stream, +While on its crystal lap ourselves we view. + +ARSACES. + +I see before us a wide sea of sorrows, +Th' angry waves roll forward to o'erwhelm us, +Black clouds arise, and the wind whistles loud. +But yet, oh! could I save thee from the wreck, +Thou beauteous casket, where my joys are stor'd, +Let the storm rage with double violence, +Smiling I'd view its wide extended horrors. + +EVANTHE. + +'Tis not enough that we do know the ill, +Say, shall we calmly see the tempest rise, +And seek no shelter from th' inclement sky, +But bid it rage?-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha! will he force thee from me? +What, tear thee from my fond and bleeding heart? +And must I lose thee ever? dreadful word! +Never to gaze upon thy beauties more? +Never to taste the sweetness of thy lips? +Never to know the joys of mutual love? +Never!--Oh! let me lose the pow'r of thinking, +For thought is near allied to desperation. +Why, cruel Sire--why did you give me life, +And load it with a weight of wretchedness? +Take back my being, or relieve my sorrows-- +Ha! art thou not Evanthe?--Art thou not +The lovely Maid, who bless'd the fond Arsaces?-- [_Raving._ + +EVANTHE. + +O, my lov'd Lord, recall your scatter'd spir'ts, +Alas! I fear your senses are unsettl'd. + +ARSACES. + +Yes, I would leave this dull and heavy sense. +Let me grow mad; perhaps, I then may gain +Some joy, by kind imagination form'd, +Beyond reality.--O! my Evanthe! +Why was I curs'd with empire? born to rule?-- +Would I had been some humble Peasant's son, +And thou some Shepherd's daughter on the plain; +My throne some hillock, and my flock my subjects, +My crook my sceptre, and my faithful dog +My only guard; nor curs'd with dreams of greatness. +At early dawn I'd hail the coming day, +And join the lark the rival of his lay; +At sultry noon to some kind shade repair, +Thus joyful pass the hours, my only care, +To guard my flock, and please the yielding Fair. + + +SCENE VIII. + +_KING.--VARDANES behind the Scene._ + +KING. + +I will not think, to think is torment--Ha! +See, how they twine! ye furies cut their hold. +Now their hot blood beats loud to love's alarms; +Sigh presses sigh, while from their sparkling eyes +Flashes desire--Oh! ye bright heav'nly beings, +Who pitying bend to suppliant Lovers' pray'rs, +And aid them in extremity, assist me! + +VARDANES. + +Thus, for the Trojan, mourn'd the Queen of Carthage; +So, on the shore she raving stood, and saw +His navy leave her hospitable shore. +In vain she curs'd the wind which fill'd their sails, +And bore the emblem of its change away. [_Comes forward._ + +KING. + +Vardanes--Ha!--come here, I know thou lov'st me. + +VARDANES. + +I do, my Lord; but, say, what busy villain +Durst e'er approach your ear, with coz'ning tales, +And urge you to a doubt? + +KING. + + None, none believe me. +I'll ne'er oppress thy love with fearful doubt-- +A little nigher--let me lean upon thee-- +And thou be my support--for now I mean +T' unbosom to thee free without restraint: +Search all the deep recesses of my soul, +And open ev'ry darling thought before thee, +Which long I've secreted with jealous care. +Pray, mark me well. + +VARDANES. + + I will, my Royal Sire. + +KING. + +On Anna thus reclin'd the love-sick Dido; +Thus to her cheek laid hers with gentle pressure, +And wet her sister with a pearly show'r, +Which fell from her sad eyes, then told her tale, +While gentle Anna gave a pitying tear, +And own'd 'twas moving--thou canst pity too, +I know thy nature tender and engaging. + +VARDANES. + +Tell me, my gracious Lord, what moves you thus? +Why is your breast distracted with these tumults? +Teach me some method how to sooth your sorrows, +And give your heart its former peace and joy; +Instruct thy lov'd Vardanes.-- + +KING. + + Yes, I'll tell thee; +But listen with attention while I speak; +And yet I know 'twill shock thy gentle soul, +And horror o'er thee 'll spread his palsy hand. +O, my lov'd Son! thou fondness of my age! +Thou art the prop of my declining years, +In thee alone I find a Father's joy, +Of all my offspring: but Arsaces-- + +VARDANES. + + Ha! +My Brother!-- + +KING. + + Ay--why dost start?--thy Brother +Pursues me with his hate: and, while warm life +Rolls the red current thro' my veins, delights +To see me tortur'd; with an easy smile +He meets my suff'rings, and derides my pain. + +VARDANES. + + Oh! + +KING. + +What means that hollow groan?--Vardanes, speak, +Death's image fits upon thy pallid cheek, +While thy low voice sounds as when murmurs run +Thro' lengthen'd vaults-- + +VARDANES. + + O! my foreboding thoughts. [_Aside._ +'Twas this disturb'd my rest; when sleep at night +Lock'd me in slumbers; in my dreams I saw +My Brother's crime--yet, death!--it cannot be-- + +KING. + +Ha!--what was that?-- + +VARDANES. + + O! my dread Lord, some Villain +Bred up in lies, and train'd to treach'ry, +Has injur'd you by vile reports, to stain +My Princely Brother's honour. + +KING. + + Thou know'st more, +Thy looks confess what thou in vain wouldst hide-- +And hast thou then conspir'd against me too, +And sworn concealment to your practices?-- +Thy guilt-- + +VARDANES. + + Ha! guilt!--what guilt?-- + +KING. + + Nay, start not so-- +I'll know your purposes, spite of thy art. + +VARDANES. + +O! ye great Gods! and is it come to this?-- +My Royal Father call your reason home, +Drive these loud passions hence, that thus deform you. +My Brother--Ah! what shall I say?--My Brother +Sure loves you as he ought. + +KING. + + Ha! as he ought?-- +Hell blister thy evasive tongue--I'll know it-- +I will; I'll search thy breast, thus will I open +A passage to your secrets--yet resolv'd-- +Yet steady in your horrid villany-- +'Tis fit that I from whom such monsters sprung +No more should burthen earth--Ye Parricides!-- +Here plant your daggers in this hated bosom-- +Here rive my heart, and end at once my sorrows, +I gave ye being, that's the mighty crime. + +VARDANES. + +I can no more--here let me bow in anguish-- +Think not that I e'er join'd in his designs, +Because I have conceal'd my knowledge of them: +I meant, by pow'rful reason's friendly aid, +To turn him from destruction's dreadful path, +And bring him to a sense of what he ow'd +To you as King and Father. + +KING. + + Say on--I'll hear. + +VARDANES. + +He views thy sacred life with envious hate, +As 'tis a bar to his ambitious hopes. +On the bright throne of Empire his plum'd wishes +Seat him, while on his proud aspiring brows +He feels the pleasing weight of Royalty. +But when he wakes from these his airy dreams +(Delusions form'd by the deceiver hope, +To raise him to the glorious height of greatness), +Then hurl him from proud Empire to subjection. +Wild wrath will quickly swell his haughty breast, +Soon as he finds 'tis but a shadowy blessing.-- +'Twas fav'ring accident discover'd to me +All that I know; this Evening as I stood +Alone, retir'd, in the still gallery, +That leads up to th' appartment of my Brother, +T' indulge my melancholy thoughts,-- + +KING. + + Proceed-- + +VARDANES. + +A wretch approach'd with wary step, his eye +Spoke half his tale, denoting villany. +In hollow murmurs thus he question'd me-- +Was I the Prince?--I answer'd to content him-- +Then in his hand he held this paper forth. +"Take this," says he, "this Bethas greets thee with, +Keep but your word our plot will meet success." +I snatch'd it with more rashness than discretion, +Which taught him his mistake. In haste he drew, +And aim'd his dagger at my breast, but paid +His life, a forfeit, for his bold presuming. + +KING. + +O Villain! Villain! + +VARDANES. + + Here, read this, my Lord-- +I read it, and cold horror froze my blood. +And shook me like an ague. + +KING. + + Ha!--what's this?-- +"Doubt not Arabia's aid, set me but free, +I'll easy pass on the old cred'lous King, +For fair Evanthe's Father."--Thus to atoms-- +Oh! could I tear these cursed traitors thus. + + [_Tears the paper into pieces._ + +VARDANES. + +Curses avail you nothing, he has pow'r, +And may abuse it to your prejudice. + +KING. + +I am resolv'd-- + +VARDANES. + + Tho' Pris'ner in his camp, +Yet, Bethas was attended like a Prince, +As tho' he still commanded the Arabians. +'Tis true, when they approach'd the royal city, +He threw him into chains to blind our eyes, +A shallow artifice-- + +KING. + + That is a Truth. + +VARDANES. + +And, yet, he is your Son. + +KING. + + Ah! that indeed-- + +VARDANES. + +Why, that still heightens his impiety, +To rush to empire thro' his Father's blood, +And, in return of life, to give him death. + +KING. + +Oh! I am all on fire, yes I must tear +These folds of venom from me. + +VARDANES. + + Sure 'twas Lysias +That cross'd the passage now. + +KING. + + 'Tis to my wish. +I'll in, and give him orders to arrest +My traitor Son and Bethas--Now Vardanes +Indulge thy Father in this one request-- +Seize, with some horse, Evanthe, and bear her +To your command--Oh! I'll own my weakness-- +I love with fondness mortal never knew-- +Not Jove himself, when he forsook his heav'n, +And in a brutal shape disgrac'd the God, +E'er lov'd like me. + +VARDANES. + + I will obey you, Sir. + + +SCENE IX. + +VARDANES [_alone_]. + +I'll seize her, but I'll keep her for myself, +It were a sin to give her to his age-- +To twine the blooming garland of the spring +Around the sapless trunks of wither'd oaks-- +The night, methinks, grows ruder than it was, +Thus should it be, thus nature should be shock'd, +And Prodigies, affrighting all mankind, +Foretell the dreadful business I intend. +The earth should gape, and swallow cities up, +Shake from their haughty heights aspiring tow'rs, +And level mountains with the vales below; +The Sun amaz'd should frown in dark eclipse, +And light retire to its unclouded heav'n; +While darkness, bursting from her deep recess, +Should wrap all nature in eternal night.-- +Ambition, glorious fever of the mind, +'Tis that which raises us above mankind; +The shining mark which bounteous heav'n has gave, +From vulgar souls distinguishing the brave. + +_End of the Third Act._ + + + + +ACT IV. + + +SCENE I. _A Prison._ + +_GOTARZES and PHRAATES._ + +PHRAATES. + +Oh! fly my Prince, for safety dwells not here, +Hence let me urge thy flight with eager haste. +Last night thy Father sigh'd his soul to bliss, +Base murther'd-- + +GOTARZES. + + Murther'd? ye Gods!-- + +PHRAATES. + + Alas! 'tis true. +Stabb'd in his slumber by a traitor's hand; +I scarce can speak it--horror choaks my words-- +Lysias it was who did the damned deed, +Urg'd by the bloody Queen, and his curs'd rage, +Because the King, thy Sire, in angry mood, +Once struck him on his foul dishonest cheek. +Suspicion gave me fears of this, when first +I heard, the Prince, Arsaces, was imprison'd, +By fell Vardanes' wiles. + +GOTARZES. + + Oh! horror! horror! +Hither I came to share my Brother's sorrows, +To mingle tears, and give him sigh for sigh; +But this is double, double weight of woe. + +PHRAATES. + +'Tis held as yet a secret from the world. +Frighted by hideous dreams I shook off sleep, +And as I mus'd the garden walks along, +Thro' the deep gloom, close in a neighb'ring walk, +Vardanes with proud Lysias I beheld, +Still eager in discourse they saw not me, +For yet the early dawn had not appear'd; +I sought a secret stand, where hid from view, +I heard stern Lysias, hail the Prince Vardanes +As Parthia's dreaded Lord!--"'Tis done", he cry'd, +"'Tis done, and Artabanus is no more. +The blow he gave me is repay'd in blood; +Now shall the morn behold two rising suns: +Vardanes thou, our better light, shalt bring +Bright day and joy to ev'ry heart." + + +GOTARZES. + + Why slept +Your vengeance, oh! ye righteous Gods? + +PHRAATES. + + Then told +A tale, so fill'd with bloody circumstance, +Of this damn'd deed, that stiffen'd me with horror. +Vardanes seem'd to blame the hasty act, +As rash, and unadvis'd, by passion urg'd, +Which never yields to cool reflection's place. +But, being done, resolv'd it secret, lest +The multitude should take it in their wise +Authority to pry into his death. +Arsaces was, by assassination, +Doom'd to fall. Your name was mention'd also-- +But hurried by my fears away, I left +The rest unheard-- + +GOTARZES. + +What can be done?--Reflection, why wilt thou +Forsake us, when distress is at our heels? +Phraates, help me, aid me with thy council. + +PHRAATES. + +Then stay not here, fly to Barzaphernes, +His conqu'ring troops are at a trivial distance; +Soon will you reach the camp; he lov'd your Brother, +And your Father with affection serv'd; haste +Your flight, whilst yet I have the city-guard, +For Lysias I expect takes my command. +I to the camp dispatch'd a trusty slave, +Before the morn had spread her blushing veil. +Away, you'll meet the Gen'ral on the road, +On such a cause as this he'll not delay. + +GOTARZES. + +I thank your love-- + + +SCENE II. + +PHRAATES [_alone_]. + + I'll wait behind, my stay +May aid the cause; dissembling I must learn, +Necessity shall teach me how to vary +My features to the looks of him I serve. +I'll thrust myself disguis'd among the croud, +And fill their ears with murmurs of the deed: +Whisper all is not well, blow up the sparks +Of discord, and it soon will flame to rage. + + +SCENE III. + +_QUEEN and LYSIAS._ + +QUEEN. + +Haste, and shew me to the Prince Arsaces, +Delay not, see the signet of Vardanes. + +LYSIAS. + +Royal Thermusa, why this eagerness? +This tumult of the soul?--what means this dagger? +Ha!--I suspect-- + +QUEEN. + + Hold--for I'll tell thee, Lysias. +'Tis--oh! I scarce can speak the mighty joy-- +I shall be greatly blest in dear revenge, +'Tis vengeance on Arsaces--yes, this hand +Shall urge the shining poniard to his heart, +And give him death--yea, give the ruffian death; +So shall I smile on his keen agonies. + +LYSIAS. + +Ha! am I robb'd of all my hopes of vengeance, +Shall I then calmly stand with all my wrongs, +And see another bear away revenge? + +QUEEN. + +For what can Lysias ask revenge, to bar +His Queen of hers? + +LYSIAS. + + Was I not scorn'd, and spurn'd, +With haughty insolence? like a base coward +Refus'd what e'er I ask'd, and call'd a boaster? +My honour sullied, with opprobrious words, +Which can no more its former brightness know, +'Til, with his blood, I've wash'd the stains away. +Say, shall I then not seek for glorious vengeance? + +QUEEN. + +And what is this, to the sad Mother's griefs, +Her hope cut off, rais'd up with pain and care? +Hadst thou e'er supported the lov'd Prattler? +Hadst thou like me hung o'er his infancy, +Wasting in wakeful mood the tedious night, +And watch'd his sickly couch, far mov'd from rest, +Waiting his health's return?--Ah! hadst thou known +The parent's fondness, rapture, toil and sorrow, +The joy his actions gave, and the fond wish +Of something yet to come, to bless my age, +And lead me down with pleasure to the grave, +Thou wouldst not thus talk lightly of my wrongs. +But I delay-- + +LYSIAS. + + To thee I then submit. +Be sure to wreck a double vengeance on him; +If that thou knowst a part in all his body, +Where pain can most be felt, strike, strike him there-- +And let him know the utmost height of anguish. +It is a joy to think that he shall fall, +Tho' 'tis another hand which gives the blow. + + +SCENE IV. + +_ARSACES and BETHAS._ + +ARSACES. + +Why should I linger out my joyless days, +When length of hope is length of misery? +Hope is a coz'ner, and beguiles our cares, +Cheats us with empty shews of happiness, +Swift fleeting joys which mock the faint embrace; +We wade thro' ills pursuing of the meteor, +Yet are distanc'd still. + +BETHAS. + + Ah! talk not of hope-- +Hope fled when bright Astraea spurn'd this earth, +And sought her seat among the shining Gods; +Despair, proud tyrant, ravages my breast, +And makes all desolation. + +ARSACES. + + How can I +Behold those rev'rent sorrows, see those cheeks +Moist with the dew which falls from thy sad eyes, +Nor imitate distraction's frantic tricks, +And chace cold lifeless reason from her throne? +I am the fatal cause of all this sorrow, +The spring of ills,--to know me is unhappiness;-- +And mis'ry, like a hateful plague, pursues +My wearied steps, and blasts the springing verdure. + +BETHAS. + +No;--It is I that am the source of all, +It is my fortune sinks you to this trouble; +Before you shower'd your gentle pity on me, +You shone the pride of this admiring world.-- +Evanthe springs from me, whose fatal charms +Produces all this ruin.--Hear me heav'n! +If to another love she ever yields, +And stains her soul with spotted falsehood's crime, +If e'en in expectation tastes a bliss, +Nor joins Arsaces with it, I will wreck +My vengeance on her, so that she shall be +A dread example to all future times. + +ARSACES. + +Oh! curse her not, nor threaten her with anger, +She is all gentleness, yet firm to truth, +And blest with ev'ry pleasing virtue, free +From levity, her sex's character. +She scorns to chace the turning of the wind, +Varying from point to point. + +BETHAS. + + I love her, ye Gods! +I need not speak the greatness of my love, +Each look which straining draws my soul to hers +Denotes unmeasur'd fondness; but mis'ry, +Like a fretful peevish child, can scarce tell +What it would wish, or aim at. + +ARSACES. + + Immortals, hear! +Thus do I bow my soul in humble pray'r-- +Thou, King of beings, in whose breath is fate, +Show'r on Evanthe all thy choicest blessings, +And bless her with excess of happiness; +If yet, there is one bliss reserv'd in store, +And written to my name, oh! give it her, +And give me all her sorrows in return. + +BETHAS. + +'Rise, 'rise my Prince, this goodness o'erwhelms me, +She's too unworthy of so great a passion. + +ARSACES. + +I know not what it means, I'm not as usual, +Ill-boding cares, and restless fears oppress me, +And horrid dreams disturb, and fright, my slumbers; +But yesternight, 'tis dreadful to relate, +E'en now I tremble at my waking thoughts, +Methought, I stood alone upon the shore, +And, at my feet, there roll'd a sea of blood, +High wrought, and 'midst the waves, appear'd my Father, +Struggling for life; above him was Vardanes, +Pois'd in the air, he seem'd to rule the storm, +And, now and then, would push my Father down, +And for a space he'd sink beneath the waves, +And then, all gory, rise to open view, +His voice in broken accents reach'd my ear, +And bade me save him from the bloody stream; +Thro' the red billows eagerly I rush'd, +But sudden woke, benum'd with chilling fear. + +BETHAS. + +Most horrible indeed!--but let it pass, +'Tis but the offspring of a mind disturb'd, +For sorrow leaves impressions on the fancy, +Which shew most fearful to us lock'd in sleep. + +ARSACES. + +Thermusa! ha!--what can be her design? +She bears this way, and carries in her looks +An eagerness importing violence. +Retire--for I would meet her rage alone. + + +SCENE V. + +_ARSACES and QUEEN._ + +ARSACES. + +What means the proud Thermusa by this visit, +Stoops heav'n-born pity to a breast like thine? +Pity adorns th' virtuous, but ne'er dwells +Where hate, revenge, and rage distract the soul. +Sure, it is hate that hither urg'd thy steps, +To view misfortune with an eye of triumph. +I know thou lov'st me not, for I have dar'd +To cross thy purposes, and, bold in censure, +Spoke of thy actions as they merited. +Besides, this hand 'twas slew the curs'd Vonones. + +QUEEN. + +And darst thou insolent to name Vonones? +To heap perdition on thy guilty soul? +There needs not this to urge me to revenge-- +But let me view this wonder of mankind, +Whose breath can set the bustling world in arms. +I see no dreadful terrors in his eye, +Nor gathers chilly fears around my heart, +Nor strains my gazing eye with admiration, +And, tho' a woman, I can strike the blow. + +ARSACES. + +Why gaze you on me thus? why hesitate? +Am I to die? + +QUEEN. + + Thou art--this dagger shall +Dissolve thy life, thy fleeting ghost I'll send +To wait Vonones in the shades below. + +ARSACES. + +And even there I'll triumph over him. + +QUEEN. + +O, thou vile homicide! thy fatal hand +Has robb'd me of all joy; Vonones, to +Thy Manes this proud sacrifice I give. +That hand which sever'd the friendship of thy +Soul and body, shall never draw again +Imbitt'ring tears from sorr'wing mother's eyes. +This, with the many tears I've shed, receive + + [_Offers to stab him._ + +Ha!--I'd strike; what holds my hand?--'tis n't pity. + +ARSACES. + +Nay, do not mock me, with the shew of death, +And yet deny the blessing; I have met +Your taunts with equal taunts, in hopes to urge +The blow with swift revenge; but since that fails, +I'll woo thee to compliance, teach my tongue +Persuasion's winning arts, to gain thy soul; +I'll praise thy clemency, in dying accents +Bless thee for, this, thy charitable deed. +Oh! do not stand; see, how my bosom heaves +To meet the stroke; in pity let me die, +'Tis all the happiness I now can know. + +QUEEN. + +How sweet the eloquence of dying men! +Hence Poets feign'd the music of the Swan, +When death upon her lays his icy hand, +She melts away in melancholy strains. + +ARSACES. + +Play not thus cruel with my poor request, +But take my loving Father's thanks, and mine. + +QUEEN. + +Thy Father cannot thank me now. + +ARSACES. + + He will, +Believe me, e'en whilst dissolv'd in ecstacy +On fond Evanthe's bosom, he will pause, +One moment from his joys, to bless the deed. + +QUEEN. + +What means this tumult in my breast? from whence +Proceeds this sudden change? my heart beats high, +And soft compassion makes me less than woman: +I'll search no more for what I fear to know. + +ARSACES. + +Why drops the dagger from thy trembling hand? +Oh! yet be kind-- + +QUEEN. + + No: now I'd have thee live, +Since it is happiness to die: 'Tis pain +That I would give thee, thus I bid thee live; +Yes, I would have thee a whole age a dying, +And smile to see thy ling'ring agonies. +All day I'd watch thee, mark each heighten'd pang, +While springing joy should swell my panting bosom; +This I would have--But should this dagger give +Thy soul the liberty it fondly wishes, +'Twould soar aloft, and mock my faint revenge. + +ARSACES. + +This mildness shews most foul, thy anger lovely. +Think that 'twas I who blasted thy fond hope, +Vonones now lies number'd with the dead, +And all your joys are buried in his grave; +My hand untimely pluck'd the precious flow'r, +Before its shining beauties were display'd. + +QUEEN. + +O Woman! Woman! where's thy resolution? +Where's thy revenge? Where's all thy hopes of vengeance? +Giv'n to the winds--Ha! is it pity?--No-- +I fear it wears another softer name. +I'll think no more, but rush to my revenge, +In spite of foolish fear, or woman's softness; +Be steady now my soul to thy resolves. +Yes, thou shalt die, thus, on thy breast, I write +Thy instant doom--ha!--ye Gods! + + [_QUEEN starts, as, in great fright, at hearing something._ + +ARSACES. + + Why this pause? +Why dost thou idly stand like imag'd vengeance, +With harmless terrors threatning on thy brow, +With lifted arm, yet canst not strike the blow? + +QUEEN. + +It surely was the Echo to my fears, +The whistling wind, perhaps, which mimick'd voice; +But thrice methought it loudly cry'd, "Forbear." +Imagination hence--I'll heed thee not-- + + [_Ghost of ARTABANUS rises._ + +Save me--oh!--save me--ye eternal pow'rs!-- +See!--see it comes, surrounded with dread terrors-- +Hence--hence! nor blast me with that horrid sight-- +Throw off that shape, and search th' infernal rounds +For horrid forms, there's none can shock like thine. + +GHOST. + +No; I will ever wear this form, thus e'er +Appear before thee; glare upon thee thus, +'Til desperation, join'd to thy damn'd crime, +Shall wind thee to the utmost height of frenzy. +In vain you grasp the dagger in your hand, +In vain you dress your brows in angry frowns, +In vain you raise your threatning arm in air, +Secure, Arsaces triumphs o'er your rage. +Guarded by fate, from thy accurs'd revenge, +Thou canst not touch his life; the Gods have giv'n +A softness to thy more than savage soul +Before unknown, to aid their grand designs. +Fate yet is lab'ring with some great event, +But what must follow I'm forbid to broach-- +Think, think of me, I sink to rise again, +To play in blood before thy aching sight, +And shock thy guilty soul with hell-born horrors-- +Think, think of Artabanus! and despair-- [_Sinks._ + +QUEEN. + +Think of thee, and despair?--yes, I'll despair-- +Yet stay,--oh! stay, thou messenger of fate! +Tell me--Ha! 'tis gone--and left me wretched-- + +ARSACES. + +Your eyes seem fix'd upon some dreadful object, +Horror and anguish clothe your whiten'd face, +And your frame shakes with terror; I hear you speak +As seeming earnest in discourse, yet hear +No second voice. + +QUEEN. + + What! saw'st thou nothing? + +ARSACES. + + Nothing. + +QUEEN. + + Nor hear'd?-- + +ARSACES. + + Nor Hear'd. + +QUEEN. + + Amazing spectacle!-- +Cold moist'ning dews distil from ev'ry pore, +I tremble like to palsied age--Ye Gods! +Would I could leave this loath'd detested being!-- +Oh! all my brain's on fire--I rave! I rave!-- [_Ghost rises again._ +Ha! it comes again--see, it glides along-- +See, see, what streams of blood flow from its wounds! +A crimson torrent--Shield me, oh! shield me, heav'n.-- + +ARSACES. + +Great, and righteous Gods!-- + +QUEEN. + + Ah! frown not on me-- +Why dost thou shake thy horrid locks at me? +Can I give immortality?--'tis gone-- [_Ghost sinks._ +It flies me, see, ah!--stop it, stop it, haste-- + +ARSACES. + +Oh, piteous sight!-- + +QUEEN. + + Hist! prithee, hist! oh death! +I'm all on fire--now freezing bolts of ice +Dart thro' my breast--Oh! burst ye cords of life-- +Ha! who are ye?--Why do ye stare upon me?-- +Oh!--defend me, from these bick'ring Furies! + +ARSACES. + +Alas! her sense is lost, distressful Queen! + +QUEEN. + +Help me, thou King of Gods! oh! help me! help!-- +See! they envir'n me round--Vonones too, +The foremost leading on the dreadful troop-- +But there, Vardanes beck'ns me to shun +Their hellish rage--I come, I come! +Ah! they pursue me, with a scourge of fire.-- [_Runs out distracted._ + + +SCENE VI. + +ARSACES [_alone_]. + +Oh!--horror!--on the ground she breathless lies, +Silent, in death's cold sleep; the wall besmear'd +With brains and gore, the marks of her despair. +O guilt! how dreadful dost thou ever shew! +How lovely are the charms of innocence! +How beauteous tho' in sorrows and distress!-- +Ha!--what noise?-- [_Clashing of swords._ + + +SCENE VII. + +_ARSACES, BARZAPHERNES and GOTARZES._ + +BARZAPHERNES. + + At length we've forc'd our entrance-- +O my lov'd Prince! to see thee thus, indeed, +Melts e'en me to a woman's softness; see +My eyes o'erflow--Are these the ornaments +For Royal hands? rude manacles! oh shameful! +Is this thy room of state, this gloomy goal? +Without attendance, and thy bed the pavement? +But, ah! how diff'rent was our parting last! +When flush'd with vict'ry, reeking from the slaughter, +You saw Arabia's Sons scour o'er the plain +In shameful flight, before your conqu'ring sword; +Then shone you like the God of battle. + +ARSACES. + + Welcome! +Welcome, my loyal friends! Barzaphernes! +My good old soldier, to my bosom thus! +Gotarzes, my lov'd Brother! now I'm happy.-- +But, say, my soldier, why these threatning arms? +Why am I thus releas'd by force? my Father, +I should have said the King, had he relented, +He'd not have us'd this method to enlarge me. +Alas! I fear, too forward in your love, +You'll brand me with the rebel's hated name. + +BARZAPHERNES. + +I am by nature blunt--the soldier's manner. +Unus'd to the soft arts practis'd at courts. +Nor can I move the passions, or disguise +The sorr'wing tale to mitigate the smart. +Then seek it not: I would sound the alarm, +Loud as the trumpet's clangour, in your ears; +Nor win I hail you, as our Parthia's King, +'Til you've full reveng'd your Father's murther. + +ARSACES. + +Murther?--good heav'n! + +BARZAPHERNES. + + The tale requires some time; +And opportunity must not be lost; +Your traitor Brother, who usurps your rights, +Must, ere his faction gathers to a head, +Have from his brows his new-born honours torn. + +ARSACES. + +What, dost thou say, murther'd by Vardanes? +Impious parricide!--detested villain!-- +Give me a sword, and onward to the charge, +Stop gushing tears, for I will weep in blood, +And sorrow with the groans of dying men.-- +Revenge! revenge!--oh!--all my soul's on fire! + +GOTARZES. + +'Twas not Vardanes struck the fatal blow, +Though, great in pow'r usurp'd, he dares support +The actor, vengeful Lysias; to his breast +He clasps, with grateful joy, the bloody villain; +Who soon meant, with ruffian wiles, to cut +You from the earth, and also me. + +ARSACES. + + Just heav'ns!-- +But, gentle Brother, how didst thou elude +The vigilant, suspicious, tyrant's craft? + +GOTARZES. + +Phraates, by an accident, obtain'd +The knowledge of the deed, and warn'd by him +I bent my flight toward the camp, to seek +Protection and revenge; but scarce I'd left +The city when I o'ertook the Gen'ral. + +BARZAPHERNES. + +Ere the sun 'rose I gain'd th' intelligence: +The soldiers when they heard the dreadful tale, +First stood aghast, and motionless with horror. +Then suddenly, inspir'd with noble rage, +Tore up their ensigns, calling on their leaders +To march them to the city instantly. +I, with some trusty few, with speed came forward, +To raise our friends within, and gain your freedom. +Nor hazard longer, by delays, your safety. +Already faithful Phraates has gain'd +A num'rous party of the citizens; +With these we mean t' attack the Royal Palace, +Crush the bold tyrant with surprise, while sunk +In false security; and vengeance wreck, +Ere that he thinks the impious crime be known. + +ARSACES. + +O! parent being, Ruler of yon heav'n! +Who bade creation spring to order, hear me. +What ever sins are laid upon my soul, +Now let them not prove heavy on this day, +To sink my arm, or violate my cause. +The sacred rights of Kings, my Country's wrongs, +The punishment of fierce impiety, +And a lov'd Father's death, call forth my sword.-- + +Now on; I feel all calm within my breast, +And ev'ry busy doubt is hush'd to rest; +Smile heav'n propitious on my virtuous cause, +Nor aid the wretch who dares disdain your laws. + +_End of the Fourth Act._ + + + + +ACT V. + + +SCENE I. _The Palace._ + +_The Curtain rises, slowly, to soft music, and discovers EVANTHE +sleeping on a sofa; after the music ceases, VARDANES enters._ + +VARDANES. + +Now shining Empire standing at the goal, +Beck'ns me forward to increase my speed; +But, yet, Arsaces lives, bane to my hopes, +Lysias I'll urge to ease me of his life, +Then give the villain up to punishment. +The shew of justice gains the changeling croud, +Besides, I ne'er will harbour in my bosom +Such serpents, ever ready with their stings-- +But now one hour for love and fair Evanthe-- +Hence with ambition's cares--see, where reclin'd, +In slumbers all her sorrows are dismiss'd, +Sleep seems to heighten ev'ry beauteous feature, +And adds peculiar softness to each grace. +She weeps--in dreams some lively sorrow pains her-- +I'll take one kiss--oh! what a balmy sweetness! +Give me another--and another still-- +For ever thus I'd dwell upon her lips. +Be still my heart, and calm unruly transports.-- +Wake her, with music, from this mimic death. + + [_Music sounds._ + +SONG. + + Tell me, Phillis, tell me why, + You appear so wond'rous coy, + When that glow, and sparkling eye, + Speak you want to taste the joy? + Prithee, give this fooling o'er, + Nor torment your lover more. + + While youth is warm within our veins, + And nature tempts us to be gay, + Give to pleasure loose the reins, + Love and youth fly swift away. + Youth in pleasure should be spent, + Age will come, we'll then repent. + +EVANTHE [_waking_]. + +I come, ye lovely shades--Ha! am I here? +Still in the tyrant's palace? Ye bright pow'rs! +Are all my blessings then but vis'onary? +Methought I was arriv'd on that blest shore +Where happy souls for ever dwell, crown'd with +Immortal bliss; Arsaces led me through +The flow'ry groves, while all around me gleam'd +Thousand and thousand shades, who welcom'd me +With pleasing songs of joy--Vardanes, ha!-- + +VARDANES. + +Why beams the angry lightning of thine eye +Against thy sighing slave? Is love a crime? +Oh! if to dote, with such excess of passion +As rises e'en to mad extravagance +Is criminal, I then am so, indeed. + +EVANTHE. + +Away! vile man!-- + +VARDANES. + + If to pursue thee e'er +With all the humblest offices of love, +If ne'er to know one single thought that does +Not bear thy bright idea, merits scorn-- + +EVANTHE. + +Hence from my sight--nor let me, thus, pollute +Mine eyes, with looking on a wretch like thee, +Thou cause of all my ills; I sicken at +Thy loathsome presence-- + +VARDANES. + + 'Tis not always thus, +Nor dost thou ever meet the sounds of love +With rage and fierce disdain: Arsaces, soon, +Could smooth thy brow, and melt thy icy breast. + +EVANTHE. + +Ha! does it gall thee? Yes, he could, he could; +Oh! when he speaks, such sweetness dwells upon +His accents, all my soul dissolves to love, +And warm desire; such truth and beauty join'd! +His looks are soft and kind, such gentleness +Such virtue swells his bosom! in his eye +Sits majesty, commanding ev'ry heart. +Strait as the pine, the pride of all the grove, +More blooming than the spring, and sweeter far, +Than asphodels or roses infant sweets. +Oh! I could dwell forever on his praise, +Yet think eternity was scarce enough +To tell the mighty theme; here in my breast +His image dwells, but one dear thought of him, +When fancy paints his Person to my eye, +As he was wont in tenderness dissolv'd, +Sighing his vows, or kneeling at my feet, +Wipes off all mem'ry of my wretchedness. + +VARDANES. + +I know this brav'ry is affected, yet +It gives me joy, to think my rival only +Can in imagination taste thy beauties. +Let him,--'twill ease him in his solitude, +And gild the horrors of his prison-house, +Till death shall-- + +EVANTHE. + + Ha! what was that? till death--ye Gods! +Ah, now I feel distress's tort'ring pang-- +Thou canst not, villain--darst not think his death-- +O mis'ry!-- + +VARDANES. + + Naught but your kindness saves him, +Yet bless me, with your love, and he is safe; +But the same frown which kills my growing hopes, +Gives him to death. + +EVANTHE. + + O horror, I could die +Ten thousand times to save the lov'd Arsaces. +Teach me the means, ye pow'rs, how to save him: +Then lead me to what ever is my fate. + +VARDANES. + +Not only shall he die, but to thy view +I'll bring the scene, those eyes that take delight +In cruelty, shall have enough of death. +E'en here, before thy sight, he shall expire, +Not sudden, but by ling'ring torments; all +That mischief can invent shall be practis'd +To give him pain; to lengthen out his woe +I'll search around the realm for skillful men, +To find new tortures. + +EVANTHE. + + Oh! wrack not thus my soul! + +VARDANES. + +The sex o'erflows with various humours, he +Who catches not their smiles the very moment, +Will lose the blessing--I'll improve this softness.-- [_Aside to her._ +Heav'n never made thy beauties to destroy, +They were to bless, and not to blast mankind; +Pity should dwell within thy lovely breast, +That sacred temple ne'er was form'd for hate +A habitation; but a residence +For love and gaiety. + +EVANTHE. + + Oh! heav'ns! + +VARDANES. + + That sigh, +Proclaims your kind consent to save Arsaces. [_Laying hold of her._ + +EVANTHE. + +Ha! villain, off--unhand me--hence-- + +VARDANES. + + In vain +Is opportunity to those, who spend +An idle courtship on the fair, they well +Deserve their fate, if they're disdain'd;--her charms +To rush upon, and conquer opposition, +Gains the Fair one's praise; an active lover +Suits, who lies aside the coxcomb's empty whine, +And forces her to bliss. + +EVANTHE. + + Ah! hear me, hear me, +Thus kneeling, with my tears, I do implore thee: +Think on my innocence, nor force a joy +Which will ever fill thy soul with anguish. +Seek not to load my ills with infamy, +Let me not be a mark for bitter scorn, +To bear proud virtue's taunts and mocking jeers, +And like a flow'r, of all its sweetness robb'd, +Be trod to earth, neglected and disdain'd, +And spurn'd by ev'ry vulgar saucy foot. + +VARDANES. + +Speak, speak forever--music's in thy voice, +Still attentive will I listen to thee, +Be hush'd as night, charm'd with the magic sound. + +EVANTHE. + +Oh! teach me, heav'n, soft moving eloquence, +To bend his stubborn soul to gentleness.-- +Where is thy virtue? Where thy princely lustre? +Ah! wilt thou meanly stoop to do a wrong, +And stain thy honour with so foul a blot? +Thou who shouldst be a guard to innocence. +Leave force to brutes--for pleasure is not found +Where still the soul's averse; horror and guilt, +Distraction, desperation chace her hence. +Some happier gentle Fair one you may find, +Whose yielding heart may bend to meet your flame, +In mutual love soft joys alone are found; +When souls are drawn by secret sympathy, +And virtue does on virtue smile. + +VARDANES. + + No more-- +Her heav'nly tongue will charm me from th' intent-- +Hence coward softness, force shall make me blest. + +EVANTHE. + +Assist me, ye bless't pow'rs!--oh! strike, ye Gods! +Strike me, with thunder dead, this moment, e'er +I suffer violation-- + +VARDANES. + + 'Tis in vain, +The idle pray'rs by fancy'd grief put up, +Are blown by active winds regardless by, +Nor ever reach the heav'ns. + + +SCENE II. + +_VARDANES, EVANTHE and LYSIAS._ + +LYSIAS. + + Arm, arm, my Lord!-- + +VARDANES. + +Damnation! why this interruption now?-- + +LYSIAS. + +Oh! arm! my noble Prince, the foe's upon us. +Arsaces, by Barzaphernes releas'd, +Join'd with the citizens, assaults the Palace, +And swears revenge for Artabanus' death. + +VARDANES. + +Ha! what? revenge for Artabanus' death?-- +'Tis the curse of Princes that their counsels, +Which should be kept like holy mysteries, +Can never rest in silent secrecy. +Fond of employ, some cursed tattling tongue +Will still divulge them. + +LYSIAS. + + Sure some fiend from hell, +In mischief eminent, to cross our views, +Has giv'n th' intelligence, for man could not. + +EVANTHE. + +Oh! ever blest event!--All-gracious heav'n! +This beam of joy revives me. + + +SCENE III. + +_VARDANES, EVANTHE, LYSIAS, to them, an OFFICER._ + +OFFICER. + + Haste! my Lord! +Or all will soon be lost; tho' thrice repuls'd +By your e'erfaithful guards, they still return +With double fury. + +VARDANES. + + Hence, then, idle love-- +Come forth, my trusty sword--curs'd misfortune!-- +Had I but one short hour, without reluctance, +I'd meet them, tho' they brib'd the pow'rs of hell, +To place their furies in the van: Yea, rush +To meet this dreadful Brother 'midst the war-- +Haste to the combat--Now a crown or death-- +The wretch who dares to give an inch of ground +Till I retire, shall meet the death he shun'd. +Away--away! delays are dang'rous now-- + + +SCENE IV. + +EVANTHE [_alone_]. + +Now heav'n be partial to Arsaces' cause, +Nor leave to giddy chance when virtue strives; +Let victory sit on his warlike helm, +For justice draws his sword: be thou his aid, +And let the opposer's arm sink with the weight +Of his most impious crimes--be still my heart, +For all that thou canst aid him with is pray'r. +Oh! that I had the strength of thousands in me! +Or that my voice could wake the sons of men +To join, and crush the tyrant!-- + + +SCENE V. + +_EVANTHE and CLEONE._ + +EVANTHE. + + My Cleone-- +Welcome thou partner of my joys and sorrows. + +CLEONE. + +Oh! yonder terror triumphs uncontroul'd, +And glutton death seems never satisfy'd. +Each soft sensation lost in thoughtless rage, +And breast to breast, oppos'd in furious war, +The fiery Chiefs receive the vengeful steel. +O'er lifeless heaps of men the soldiers climb +Still eager for the combat, while the ground +Made slipp'ry by the gushing streams of gore +Is treach'rous to their feet.--Oh! horrid sight!-- +Too much for me to stand, my life was chill'd, +As from the turret I beheld the fight, +It forc'd me to retire. + +EVANTHE. + + What of Arsaces? + +CLEONE. + +I saw him active in the battle, now, +Like light'ning, piercing thro' the thickest foe, +Then scorning to disgrace his sword in low +Plebeian blood--loud for Vardanes call'd-- +To meet him singly, and decide the war. + +EVANTHE. + +Save him, ye Gods!--oh! all my soul is fear-- +Fly, fly Cleone, to the tow'r again, +See how fate turns the ballance; and pursue +Arsaces with thine eye; mark ev'ry blow, +Observe if some bold villain dares to urge +His sword presumptuous at my Hero's breast. +Haste, my Cleone, haste, to ease my fears. + + +SCENE VI. + +EVANTHE [_alone_]. + +Ah!--what a cruel torment is suspense! +My anxious soul is torn 'twixt love and fear, +Scarce can I please me with one fancied bliss +Which kind imagination forms, but reason, +Proud, surly reason, snatches the vain joy, +And gives me up again to sad distress. +Yet I can die, and should Arsaces fall +This fatal draught shall ease me of my sorrows. + + +SCENE VII. + +CLEONE [_alone_]. + +Oh! horror! horror! horror!--cruel Gods!-- +I saw him fall--I did--pierc'd thro' with wounds-- +Curs'd! curs'd Vardanes!--hear'd the gen'ral cry, +Which burst, as tho' all nature had dissolv'd. +Hark! how they shout! the noise seems coming this way. + + +SCENE VIII. + +_ARSACES, GOTARZES, BARZAPHERNES and OFFICERS, with VARDANES and +LYSIAS, prisoners._ + +ARSACES. + +Thanks to the ruling pow'rs who blest our arms, +Prepare the sacrifices to the Gods, +And grateful songs of tributary praise.-- +Gotarzes, fly, my Brother, find Evanthe, +And bring the lovely mourner to my arms. + +GOTARZES. + +Yes, I'll obey you, with a willing speed. [_Exit GOTARZES._ + +ARSACES. + +Thou, Lysias, from yon tow'r's aspiring height +Be hurl'd to death, thy impious hands are stain'd +With royal blood--Let the traitor's body +Be giv'n to hungry dogs. + +LYSIAS. + + Welcome, grim death!-- +I've fed thy maw with Kings, and lack no more +Revenge--Now, do thy duty, Officer. + +OFFICER. + +Yea, and would lead all traitors gladly thus,-- +The boon of their deserts. + + +SCENE IX. + +ARSACES, VARDANES, BARZAPHERNES. + +ARSACES. + + But for Vardanes, +The Brother's name forgot-- + +VARDANES. + + You need no more, +I know the rest--Ah! death is near, my wounds +Permit me not to live--my breath grows short, +Curs'd be Phraates' arm which stop'd my sword, +Ere it had reach'd thy proud exulting heart. +But the wretch paid dear for his presuming; +A just reward.-- + +ARSACES. + + He sinks, yet bear him up-- + +VARDANES. + +Curs'd be the multitude which o'erpow'r'd me, +And beat me to the ground, cover'd with wounds-- +But, oh! 'tis done! my ebbing life is done-- +I feel death's hand upon me--Yet, I die +Just as I wish, and daring for a crown, +Life without rule is my disdain; I scorn +To swell a haughty Brother's sneaking train, +To wait upon his ear with flatt'ring tales, +And court his smiles; come, death, in thy cold arms, +Let me forget Ambition's mighty toil, +And shun the triumphs of a hated Brother-- +O! bear me off--Let not his eyes enjoy +My agonies--My sight grows dim with death. [_They bear him off._ + + +SCENE (_the Last_). + +_ARSACES, GOTARZES, BARZAPHERNES, and EVANTHE supported._ + +EVANTHE. + +Lead me, oh! lead me, to my lov'd Arsaces. +Where is he?-- + +ARSACES. + +Ha! what's this?--Just heav'ns!--my fears-- + +EVANTHE. + +Arsaces, oh! thus circl'd in thy arms, +I die without a pang. + +ARSACES. + + Ha! die?--why stare ye, +Ye lifeless ghosts? Have none of ye a tongue +To tell me I'm undone? + +GOTARZES. + + Soon, my Brother, +Too soon, you'll know it by the sad effects; +And if my grief will yet permit my tongue +To do its office, thou shalt hear the tale. +Cleone, from the turret, view'd the battle, +And on Phraates fix'd her erring sight, +Thy brave unhappy friend she took for thee, +By his garb deceiv'd, which like to thine he wore. +Still with her eye she follow'd him, where e'er +He pierc'd the foe, and to Vardanes' sword +She saw him fall a hapless victim, then, +In agonies of grief, flew to Evanthe, +And told the dreadful tale--the fatal bowl +I saw-- + +ARSACES. + + Be dumb, nor ever give again +Fear to the heart, with thy ill-boding voice. + +EVANTHE. + +Here, I'll rest, till death, on thy lov'd bosom, +Here let me sigh my--Oh! the poison works-- + +ARSACES. + +Oh! horror!-- + +EVANTHE. + + Cease--this sorrow pains me more +Than all the wringing agonies of death, +The dreadful parting of the soul from, this, +Its wedded clay--Ah! there--that pang shot thro' +My throbbing heart-- + +ARSACES. + + Save her, ye Gods!--oh! save her! +And I will bribe ye with clouds of incense; +Such num'rous sacrifices, that your altars +Shall even sink beneath the mighty load. + +EVANTHE. + +When I am dead, dissolv'd to native dust, +Yet let me live in thy dear mem'ry-- +One tear will not be much to give Evanthe. + +ARSACES. + +My eyes shall e'er two running fountains be, +And wet thy urn with overflowing tears, +Joy ne'er again within my breast shall find +A residence--Oh! speak, once more-- + +EVANTHE. + + Life's just out-- +My Father--Oh! protect his honour'd age, +And give him shelter from the storms of fate, +He's long been fortune's sport--Support me--Ah!-- +I can no more--my glass is spent--farewell-- +Forever--Arsaces!--Oh! [_Dies._ + +ARSACES. + + Stay, oh! stay, +Or take me with thee--dead! she's cold and dead! +Her eyes are clos'd, and all my joys are flown-- +Now burst ye elements, from your restraint, +Let order cease, and chaos be again. +Break! break, tough heart!--oh! torture--life dissolve-- +Why stand ye idle? Have I not one friend +To kindly free me from this pain? One blow, +One friendly blow would give me ease. + +BARZAPHERNES. + + The Gods +Forefend!--Pardon me, Royal Sir, if I +Dare, seemingly disloyal, seize your sword, +Despair may urge you far-- + +ARSACES. + + Ha! traitors! rebels!-- +Hoary rev'rend Villain! what, disarm me? +Give me my sword--what, stand ye by, and see +Your Prince insulted? Are ye rebels all?-- + +BARZAPHERNES. + +Be calm, my gracious Lord! + +GOTARZES. + + Oh! my lov'd Brother! + +ARSACES. + +Gotarzes too! all! all! conspir'd against me? +Still, are ye all resolv'd that I must live, +And feel the momentary pangs of death?-- +Ha!--this, shall make a passage for my soul-- + + [_Snatches BARZAPHERNES' sword._ + +Out, out vile cares, from your distress'd abode-- [_Stabs himself._ + +BARZAPHERNES. + +Oh! ye eternal Gods! + +GOTARZES. + + Distraction! heav'ns! +I shall run mad-- + +ARSACES. + + Ah! 'tis in vain to grieve-- +The steel has done its part, and I'm at rest.-- +Gotarzes, wear my crown, and be thou blest, +Cherish, Barzaphernes, my trusty chief-- +I faint, oh! lay me by Evanthe's side-- +Still wedded in our deaths--Bethas-- + +BARZAPHERNES. + + Despair, +My Lord, has broke his heart, I saw him stretch'd, +Along the flinty pavement, in his gaol-- +Cold, lifeless-- + +ARSACES. + + He's happy then--had he heard +This tale, he'd--Ah! Evanthe chides my soul, +For ling'ring here so long--another pang +And all the world, adieu--oh! adieu!-- [_Dies._ + +GOTARZES. + + Oh! +Fix me, heav'n, immoveable, a statue, +And free me from o'erwhelming tides of grief. + +BARZAPHERNES. + +Oh! my lov'd Prince, I soon shall follow thee; +Thy laurel'd glories whither are they fled?-- +Would I had died before this fatal day!-- +Triumphant garlands pride my soul no more, +No more the lofty voice of war can charm-- +And why then am I here? Thus then-- [_Offers to stab himself._ + +GOTARZES. + + Ah! hold, +Nor rashly urge the blow--think of me, and +Live--My heart is wrung with streaming anguish, +Tore with the smarting pangs of woe, yet, will I +Dare to live, and stem misfortune's billows. +Live then, and be the guardian of my youth, +And lead me on thro' virtue's rugged path. + +BARZAPHERNES. + +O, glorious youth, thy words have rous'd the +Drooping genius of my soul; thus, let me +Clasp thee, in my aged arms; yes, I will live-- +Live, to support thee in thy kingly rights, +And when thou 'rt firmly fix'd, my task's perform'd, +My honourable task--Then I'll retire, +Petition gracious heav'n to bless my work, +And in the silent grave forget my cares. + +GOTARZES. + +Now, to the Temple, let us onward move, +And strive t' appease the angry pow'rs above. +Fate yet may have some ills reserv'd in store, +Continu'd curses, to torment us more. +Tho', in their district, Monarchs rule alone, +Jove sways the mighty Monarch on his throne: +Nor can the shining honours which they wear, +Purchase one joy, or save them from one care. + +_Finis._ + +FOOTNOTES: + +[5] The Tigris. + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + +Page 21: Thomas Godfrey's date of birth corrected from 1763 to 1736. + +Page 78: appartment as in original. + +Page 93: "this gloomy goal" as in original. Should perhaps be gloomy gaol. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prince of Parthia, by Thomas Godfrey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCE OF PARTHIA *** + +***** This file should be named 29222.txt or 29222.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/2/29222/ + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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