[]
ZENOBIA.
[]
ZENOBIA: A TRAGEDY.
As it is performed at the THEATRE ROYAL IN DRURY-LANE.
By the AUTHOR of the ORPHAN OF CHINA.
LONDON: Printed for W. GRIFFIN, in Catharine-ſtreet, Strand.
MDCCLXVIII.
[P. 1 s. 6 d.
TO Mrs. DANCER.
[]MADAM,
IN a country, where addreſſes of this nature have generally waited upon the Great, upon a Wealthy Merchant, a Rich Commiſſary, or ſome New Man from the Sugar-iſlands, it will appear as ſurprizing, to many, as, no doubt, it will to yourſelf, that a New Form of Dedication ſhould now be introduced. For the trouble I am giving you it will, however, be unneceſſary to make any further apology, when I obſerve that in France, where talents are honoured, it has been frequently the practice of the moſt cele⯑brated wits to do juſtice to thoſe, who, by their pro⯑feſſion, are the very Organ of the Muſes. A VOL⯑TAIRE and a MARMONTEL have paid their compli⯑ments to a CLAIRON: and why may not an Engliſh Author, inferior as he is, and ever muſt be, to writers of that claſs, rival at leaſt their politeneſs, by addreſſing himſelf to Mrs. DANCER, one of the firſt Ornaments of the Britiſh Theatre?
There are, indeed, I muſt confeſs it, ſome demands upon my gratitude on this occaſion, which even now are ſtruggling to call my attention another way. Mr. GARRICK, Madam, has a claim to all the hand⯑ſome things that can be ſaid of him. His politeneſs from the moment he ſaw the play, his aſſiduity in preparing it for repreſentation, the taſte with which he has decorated it, and the warmth of his zeal for the honour of the piece, are circumſtances that call upon me for the ſtrongeſt acknowledgements. I [] could employ my pen with pleaſure in thanking Mr. BARRY for the very fine exertion of his powers, wherever the Poet gave the ſmalleſt opportunity. Mr. HOLLAND, who had before now given ſpirit to ſuch ſcenes as mine, has renewed the obligation. I could add others to the liſt, but they, and even Mr. GARRICK at their head, muſt excuſe me, if I turn to Mrs. DANCER, and ſay with Hamlet, "Here's mettle more attractive."
ZENOBIA, Madam, is your own entirely. Where⯑ever my inaccuracy has left imperfections, they are ſo happily varniſhed over by your ſkill, that either they are not ſeen, or you extort forgiveneſs for them: and if the Author is any where happy enough to ſnatch a grace beyond his uſual reach, it is multi⯑plied by your addreſs into a number of beauties, like the SWORD in Taſſo's Jeruſalem, which, when bran⯑diſhed by the hand of Rinaldo, appears to the whole army to be THREE SWORDS.
The fate of ZENOBIA has been very extraordinary. She was ſaved in her life-time from the waters of the Araxes by the hand of a ſhepherd, and now ſhe is ſaved from the critics by Mrs. DANCER.
In teſtimony of the fact, the play, Madam, is now inſcribed to you by him, who admires your talents, and remains
Your moſt obedient Servant, THE AUTHOR.
March 3, 1768.
PROLOGUE:
[]Spoken by Mr. HOLLAND.
OF old,—when Greece in a declining age
Of lawleſs pow'r had felt the barb'rous rage.
This was the tyrant's art:—He gave a prize
To him, who a new pleaſure ſhould deviſe.
Ye tyrants of the Pit, whoſe cold diſdain
Rejects and nauſeates the repeated ſtrain:
Who call for rarities to quicken ſenſe,
Say, do you always the reward diſpenſe?
Ye bards,—to whom French wit gives kind relief,
Are ye not oft the firſt—to cry STOP THIEF!
Say,—to a brother do you e're allow
One little ſprig, one leaf to deck his brow?
No;—fierce invective ſtuns the play-wright's ears.
Wits, Poets corner, Ledgers, Gazetteers?
'Tis ſaid, the Tartar,—e're he pierce the heart,
Inſcribes his name upon his poiſon'd dart.
That ſcheme's rejected by each ſcribbling ſpark;
—Our Chriſtian ſyſtem—ſtabs you in the dark.
And yet the deſp'rate author of to-night
Dares on the muſes wing another flight;
Once more a dupe to fame forſakes his eaſe,
And feels th' ambition—here again to pleaſe.
He brings a tale from a far diſtant age,
Enobled by the grave hiſtoric page!*
Zenobia's woes have touch'd each poliſh'd ſtate;
The brighteſt eyes of France have mourn'd her fate.
Harmonious Italy her tribute paid,
And ſung a dirge to her lamented ſhade.
Yet think not that we mean to mock the eye
With pilfer'd colours of a foreign dye.
NOT to tranſlate our bard his pen doth dip;
He takes a play, as Britons take a ſhip;
They heave her down;—with many a ſturdy ſtroke,
Repair her well, and build with Heart of Oak.
To ev'ry breeze ſet Britain's ſtreamers free,
NEW-MAN her, and away again to ſea.
This is our author's aim;—and if his art
Waken to ſentiment the feeling heart;
If in hit ſcenes alternate paſſions burn,
And friendſhip, love, guilt, virtue take their turn;
If innocence oppreſs'd lie bleeding here.
You'll give—'tis all he aſks—one VIRTUOUS TEAR.
Dramatis Perſonae.
[]- PHARASMANES, Mr. AICKIN.
- RHADAMISTUS, Mr. BARRY.
- TERIBAZUS, Mr. HOLLAND.
- ZOPIRON, Mr. PACKER.
- TIGRANES, Mr. HURST.
- MEGISTUS, Mr. HAVARD.
- ZENOBIA, Mr. DANCER,
- ZELMIRA, Mrs. BARRY.
Attendants, Guards, &c.
SCENE lies in Pharaſmanes' Camp, on the Banks of the Araxes.
ZENOBIA.
[]ACT the FIRST.
ZELMIRA.
THRO' the wide camp 'tis awful ſolitude!
On ev'ry tent, which at the morning's dawn
Rung with the din of arms, deep ſilence ſits
Adding new terrors to the dreadful ſcene!
My heart dies in me!—hark!—with hideous roar
The turbulent Araxes foams along,
And rolls his torrent thro' yon depth of woods!
'Tis terrible to hear!—who's there?—Zopiron!
Enter ZOPIRON.
ZELMIRA.
My lord; my Huſband!—help me; lend your aid!
ZOPIRON.
Why didſt thou leave thy tent?—why thus afflict
Thy anxious breaſt, thou partner of my heart?
Why wilt thou thus diſtract thy tender nature
With groundleſs fears—er'e yonder ſun ſhall viſit
The weſtern ſky, all will be huſh'd to peace.
ZELMIRA.
The interval is horrid; big with woe,
With conſternation, peril and diſmay!
And oh! if here, while yet the fate of nations
Suſpended hangs upon the doubtful ſword,
If here the trembling heart thus ſhrink with horror,
[2] Here in theſe tents, in this unpeopled camp,
Oh! think, Zopiron, in yon field of death
Where number ſoon in purple heaps ſhall bleed,
What feelings there muſt throb in ev'ry breaſt?
How long, ambition, wilt thou ſtalk the earth
And thus lay waſte-mankind!—
ZOPIRON.
This day at length
The warlike king, victorious Pharaſmanes
Cloſes the ſcene of war.—The Roman bands
But ill can cope with the embattled numbers
Aſia pours forth, a firm undaunted hoſt!
A nation under arms!—and every boſom
To deeds of glory fir'd!—Iberia then—
ZELMIRA.
Periſh Iberia!—may the ſons of Rome
Pour rapid vengeance on her falling ranks,
That he, who tramples on the rights of nature,
May ſee his vaſſals over-whelm'd in ruin,
May from yon field be led in ſullen chains,
To grace the triumph of imperial Rome,
And from th' aſſembled ſenate humbly learn
The dictates of humanity and juſtice!
ZOPIRON.
Thy generous zeal, thy ev'ry ſentiment
Charms my delighted ſoul.—But thou be cautious,
And check the riſing ardor that inflames thee.
The tyrant ſpares nor ſex, nor innocence—
ZELMIRA.
Indignant of controul, he ſpurns each law,
Each holy ſanction, that reſtrains the nations,
And forms 'twixt man and man the bond of peace.
ZOPIRON.
This is the tryger's den; with human gore
For ever floats the pavement; with the ſhrieks
Of matrons weeping o'er their ſlaughter'd ſons,
The cries of virgins to the brutal arms
Of violation dragg'd, with ceaſeleſs groans
[3] Of varied miſery for ever rings
The dreary region of his curs'd domain.
ZELMIRA.
To multiply his crimes, a beauteous captive,
Th' afflicted Ariana—ſhe—for her,
For that fair excellence my boſom bleeds!
She, in the prime of ev'ry blooming grace,
When next the glowing hour of riot comes,
Shall fall a victim to his baſe deſires—
ZOPIRON.
The bounteous gods may ſuccour virtue ſtill!
In this day's battle, which perhaps e're now
The charging hoſts have join'd, ſhould Roman valour
Prevail o'er Aſia's numbers.—
ZELMIRA.
That event
Is all our hope.—And lo! on yonder rampart
Trembling with wild anxiety ſhe ſtands,
Invokes each god, and bids her ſtraining eye
Explore the diſtant field.—
ZOPIRON.
Yes, there ſhe's fix'd
A ſtatue of diſpair!—That tender boſom
Heaves with no common grief—I've mark'd her oft,
And if I read aright, ſome mighty cauſe
Of hoarded anguiſh, ſome peculiar woe
Preys on her mind unſeen!—But, ha! behold,
She faints;—her fears too pow'rful for her frame
Sink that frail beauty drooping to the earth.
Exit haſtily.
ZELMIRA.
Haſte, fly, Zopiron, fly with inſtant ſuccour;
Support her; help her;—Lo! th' attendant train
Have caught her in their arms!—aſſiſt her Heav'n,
Aſſuage the ſorrows of that gentle ſpirit!
Her flutt'ring ſenſe returns;—and now this way
The virgins lead her.—May the avenging god!
In pity of the woes ſuch virtue feels,
[4] In pity of the wrongs a world endures,
With pow'r reſiſtleſs arm the Roman legions,
That they may hurl in one collected blow
Aſſur'd deſtruction on the tyrant's head!—
Enter ZENOBIA, leaning on two attendants.
ZENOBIA.
A little onward, ſtill a little onward
Support my ſteps—
ZELMIRA.
How fares it, madam, now?
ZENOBIA.
My ſtrength returns—I thank ye, gen'rous maids,
And would I could requite you—fruitleſs thanks
Are all a wretch can give.—
Firſt attendant.
The gentle office
Of mild benevolence our nature prompts—
Your merit too commands:—on Ariana
We tend with willing, with delighted care,
And that delight o'er pays us for our trouble.
ZENOBIA.
Your cares for me denote a heart that feels
For other's woes.—Methinks with ſtrength renew'd
I could adventure forth again.—
Second attendant.
'T were beſt
Repoſe your wearied ſpirits—we will ſeek
Yon riſing ground, and bring the ſwifteſt tidings
Of all the mingled tumult.
ZENOBIA.
Go, my virgins;
Watch well each movement of the marſhall'd field;
Each turn of fortune;—let me know it all;—
Each varying circumſtance—
[5] ZENOBIA, ZELMIRA.
ZELMIRA.
And will you thus,
Be doom'd for ever, Ariana, thus
A willing prey to viſionary ills,
The ſelf-conſuming votariſt of care?
ZENOBIA.
Alas! I'm doom'd to weep—the wrath of heav'n
With inexhauſted vengeance follows ſtill,
And each day comes with aggravated woes.
ZELMIRA.
Yet when Iberia's king, when Pharaſmanes,
With all a lover's fondneſs—
ZENOBIA.
Name him not!
Name not a monſter horrible with blood,
The widows, orphans, and the virgin's tears!
ZELMIRA.
Yet ſavage as he is, at ſight of thee
Each fiercer paſſion ſoften into love.
To you he bends; the monarch of the eaſt
Dejected droops beneath your cold diſdain.
And all the tyranny of female pride.
ZENOBIA.
That pride is virtue;—virtue that abhors
The tyrant reeking from a brother's murder!
Oh! Mithridates! ever honour'd ſhade!
—Peaceful he reign'd, diſpenſing good around him,
In the mild eve of honourable days!—
Thro' all her peopled realm Armenia felt
His equal ſway;—the ſunſet of his pow'r
With fainter beams, but undiminiſh'd glory,
Still ſhone ſerene, while ev'ry conſcious ſubject
With tears of praiſe beheld his calm decline
And bleſs'd the parting ray!—yet then, Zelmira,
Oh! fact accurs'd!—yes Pharaſmanes then,
[6] Deteſted perfidy!—nor ties of blood,
Nor ſacred laws, nor the juſt gods reſtrain him;—
In the dead midnight hour the fell aſſaſſin
Ruſh'd on the ſlumber of the virtuous man;—
His life blood guſh'd;—the venerable king
Wak'd, ſaw a brother arm'd againſt his life,
—Forgave him and expir'd!
ZELMIRA.
Yet wherefore open
Afreſh the wounds, which time long ſince hath clos'd?
—This day confirms his ſceptre in his hand.
ZENOBIA.
Confirms his ſceptre!—his!—indignant gods,
Will no red vengeance from your ſtores of wrath
Burſt down to cruſh the tyrant in his guilt?
His ſceptre, ſaidſt thou?—urge that word no more—
The ſceptre of his ſon!—the ſolemn right
Of Rhadamiſtus!—Mithridates choice,
That call'd him to his daughter's nuptial bed,
Approv'd him lineal heir;—conſenting nobles,
The public will, the ſanction of the Laws,
All ratified his claim;—yet curs'd ambition,
Deaf to a nation's voice, a nation's charter,
Nor ſatisfied to fill Iberia's throne,
Made war, unnatural war, againſt a ſon,
Uſurp'd his crown, and with remorſeleſs rage
Purſued his life.
ZELMIRA.
Can Arians plead
For ſuch a ſon?—means ſhe to varniſh o'er
The guilt of Rhadamiſtus?
ZENOBIA.
Guilt, Zelmira!
ZELMIRA.
Guilt that ſhoots horror thro' my aching heart!—
Poor loſt Zenobia!
ZENOBIA.
[7]And do her misfortunes
Awaken tender pity in your breaſt?
ZELMIRA.
Ill-fated princeſs! in her vernal bloom
By a falſe huſband murder'd!—from the ſtem
A Roſe-bud torn, and in ſome deſert cave
Thrown by to moulder into ſilent duſt!—
ZENOBIA.
You knew not Rhadamiſtus!—Pharaſmanes
Knew not the early virtues of his ſon.
As yet an infant, in his tend' reſt years
His father ſent him to Armenia's court,
That Mithridates' care might form his mind
To arts, to wiſdom, and to manners worthy
Armenia's ſceptre, and Zenobia's love.
The world delighted ſaw each dawning virtue,
Each nameleſs grace to full perfection riſing!—
Oh! he was all the fondeſt maid could wiſh,
All truth, all honour, tenderneſs and love!
Yet from his empire thrown! with mercileſs fury
His father following,—ſlaughter raging round,
What could the hero in that dire extreme?
ZELMIRA.
Thoſe ſtrong impaſſion'd looks!—ſome fatal ſecret
Works in her heart, and melts her into tears.
Aſide.
ZENOBIA.
Driv'n to the margin of Araxe's flood,—
No means of flight,—aghaſt he look'd around,—
Wild throbb'd his boſom with conflicting paſſions,—
And muſt I then?—tears guſh'd and choak'd his voice,—
—And muſt I leave thee then Zenobia?—muſt
Thy beauteous form—he paus'd, then aim'd a poniard
At his great heart—but oh! I ruſh'd upon him,
And with theſe arms cloſe-wreathing round his neck,
With all the vehemence of pray'rs and ſhrieks,
Implor'd the only boon he then could grant
To periſh with him in a fond embrace.—
The foe drew near—time preſs'd,—no way was left—
[8] He claſp'd me to his heart—together both,
Lock'd in the folds of love, we plung'd at once,
And ſought a requiem in the roaring flood.
ZELMIRA.
—This wondrous tale!—this ſudden burſt of paſſion—
ZENOBIA.
Ha!—whither has my phrenzy led me?—hark!—
That ſound of triumph!—loſt, for ever loſt!
Ruin'd Armenia!—oh! devoted race!
A flouriſh of trumpets,
Enter TIGRANES, Soldiers, and ſome Priſoners.
ZENOBIA.
Thy looks, Tigranes, indicate thy purpoſe!
The armies met, and Pharaſmanes conquer'd;
Is it not ſo?
TIGRANES.
As yet with pent-up fury
The ſoldier pants to let deſtruction looſe,
With eager ſpeed we urg'd our rapid march,
To where the Romans tented in the vale
With cold delay protract the ling'ring war.
At our approach their ſcanty numbers form
Their feeble lines, the future prey of vengeance.
ZENOBIA.
And wherefore, when thy ſword demands its ſhare
Of havoc in that ſcene of blood and horror,
Wherefore return'ſt thou to this lonely camp?
TIGRANES.
With cautious eye as I explor'd the Foreſt,
Which riſes thick near yonder ridge of mountains,
And ſtretches o'er th' interminable plain,
I ſaw theſe captives in the gloomy wood
Seeking with ſilent march the Roman camp.
Impal'd alive 'tis Pharaſmanes' will
They ſuffer death in miſery of torment.
ZENOBIA.
[9]Unhappy men!—and muſt they—ha!—that face,
That aged mien!—that venerable form!—
Immortal pow'rs!—is it my more than father?—
—Is that Megiſtus?—
MEGISTUS.
Ariana here!
Gods! could I ever hope to ſee her more?
Thou virtuous maid!—thou darling of my age!—
ZENOBIA.
It is—it is Megiſtus!—once again
Thus let me fall and claſp his rev'rend knee,
Print the warm kiſs of gratitude and love
Upon this trembling hand, and pour the tears,
The mingled tears of wonder and of joy.—
MEGISTUS.
Riſe, Ariana, riſe—allmighty gods!
The tide of joy and tranſport pours too faſt
Along theſe wither'd veins—it is too much
For a poor weak old man, worn out with grief
And palſied age,—it is too much to bear!
Oh! Ariana,—daughter of affliction,
Have I then found thee?—do I thus behold thee!—
Now I can die content!—
ZENOBIA.
Thou beſt of men!
Theſe joys our tears and looks can only ſpeak.—
MEGISTUS.
Yet they are cruel joys—myſterious heav'n!
You bid the ſtorm o'ercaſt our darkſome ways;
You gild the cloud with gleams of cheering light;
Then comes a breath from you, and all is vaniſh'd!
ZENOBIA.
Wherefore dejected thus—
MEGISTUS.
Alas! to meet thee
[10] But for a moment, and then part for ever!
To meet thee here, only to grieve thee more,
To add to thy afflictions,—wound that boſom
Where mild affection,—where each virtue dwells,
Juſt to behold thee, and then cloſe my eyes
In endleſs night, while you ſurvey my pangs
In the approaching agony of torment—
ZENOBIA.
Talk not of agony;—'tis rapture all!
And who has pow'r to tear thee from my heart?
MEGISTUS.
Alas! the charge of vile imputed guilt—
ZENOBIA.
I know thy truth, thy pure exalted mind—
Thy ſenſe of noble deeds—imputed guilt!—
Oh! none will dare—haſt thou Tigranes?—what,
What is his crime?—bluſh, foul traducer, bluſh!—
Oh! (to Megiſtus) the wide world muſt own thy ev'ry virtue—
TIGRANES.
If in the conſcious foreſt I beheld
Their dark complottings—
ZENOBIA.
Peace, vile ſland'rer, peace!—
Thou know'ſt who captivates a monarch's heart—
'Tis I protect him—Ariana does it!—
Thou, venerable man! in my pavillion
I'll lodge thee ſafe from danger—oh! this joy,
This beſt ſupreme delight the gods have ſent,
In pity for whole years of countleſs woe.
Exit with Megiſtus.
ZELMIRA, TIGRANES.
TIGRANES.
With what wild fury her conflicting paſſions
Riſe to a ſtorm, a tempeſt of the ſoul!
[11] I know the latent cauſe—her heart revolts,
And leagues in ſecret with the Roman arms.
ZELMIRA.
Beware Tigranes!—that exceſs of joy,
Thoſe quick, thoſe varied paſſions ſtrongly ſpeak
The ſtranger has an int'reſt in her heart.
Beſides, thou know'ſt o'er Pharaſmanes' will
She holds ſupreme dominion—
TIGRANES.
True, ſhe rules him
With boundleſs ſway—
ZELMIRA.
Nay, more to wake thy fears—
The youthful prince, the valiant Teribazus
In ſecret ſighs, and feels the ray of beauty
Through ev'ry ſenſe ſoft-thrilling to his heart.
He too becomes thy foe.—
TIGRANES.
Unguarded man!
Whate'er he loves or hates, with gen'rous warmth,
As nature prompts, that dares he to avow,
And lets each paſſion ſtand confeſs'd to view;
Such too is Ariana;—bold and open
She kindly gives inſtructions to her foe,
To mar her beſt deſigns.—
ZELMIRA.
Her foe Tigranes!
That lovely form inſhrines the gentleſt virtues,
Softeſt compaſſion, unaffected wiſdom,
To outward beauty lending higher charms
Adorning and adorn'd!—The gen'rous prince,—
He too—full well thou know'ſt him—he unites
In the heroic mould of manly firmneſs,
Each mild attractive art—oh! ſurely none
Envy the fair renown that's earn'd by virtue.
TIGRANES.
None ſhould Zelmira!—ha! thoſe warlike notes!
[12] Enter TERIBAZUS.
TERIBAZUS.
Each weary ſoldier reſt upon his arms,
And wait the king's return—Zelmira ſay,
In theſe dark moments of impending horror
How fares thy beauteous friend?—her tender ſpirit
But ill ſupports the fierce alarms of war.
Enter ZENOBIA.
ZENOBIA.
Where is he?—let me fly—oh! Pharaſmanes—
Methought thoſe ſounds beſpoke the king's approach—
Oh! Teribazus, tell me—have the fates—
This horrible ſuſpenſe—
TERIBAZUS.
I came, bright maid,
To huſh the wild emotions of thy heart.
Devouring ſlaughter for a while ſuſpends
It's ruthleſs rage;—as either hoſt advanc'd
In dread array, and from the burniſh'd arms
Of Aſia's ranks redoubled ſunbeams play'd
Burning with bright diverſities of day,
Came forth an herald from the Roman camp
With proferr'd terms—my father deign'd for once
To yield to mild perſuaſion—in his tent
Th' ambaſſador of Rome will ſoon attend him
To ſheathe the ſword, and give the nations peace.
ZENOBIA.
But oh! no peace for me, misfortune's heir!
The wretched heir of miſery!—But now
A more than father found,—yet cruel men
Would tear him from me—gen'rous, gen'rous prince,
Sparean old man, whoſe head is white with age,
Nor let 'em wound me with the ſharpeſt pang
That ever tortur'd a poor bleeding heart.
TERIBAZUS.
[13]Ariſe my fair;—let not a ſtorm of grief
Thus bend to earth my Ariana's beauties;
Soon ſhall they all revive—
ZENOBIA.
They brought him fetter'd,
Bound like a murderer!—Tigranes,—he,—
This is the author of the horrid charge—
He threatens inſtant death—but oh! protect,
Protect an innocent, a good old man,—
Or ſtretch me with him on the mournful bier.
TERIBAZUS.
By heav'n, whoe'er he is, ſince dear to you,
He ſhall not ſuffer—quick, direct me to him—
My guards ſhall ſafe incloſe him.
ZENOBIA.
In my pavillion He waits his doom—
TERIBAZUS.
Myſelf will bear the tidings
Of life, of joy, and liberty reſtor'd.—
And thou artificer of ill, thou falſe,
Thou vile defamer!—leave thy treach'rous arts,
Nor dare accuſe whom Ariana loves.
ZENOBIA, ZELMIRA.
ZENOBIA.
Zelmira,—this is happineſs ſupreme!
Oh! to have met with unexampl'd goodneſs
To owe my all, my very life itſelf,
To an unknown but hoſpitable hand,
And thus enabled by the bounteous gods,
To pay the vaſt, vaſt debt—'tis ecſtacy
[14] That ſwells above all bounds, till the fond heart
Ake with delight, and thus run o'er in tears.
ZELMIRA.
What muſt Zelmira think?—at firſt your tongue
Grew laviſh in the praiſe of Rhadamiſtus,
With hints obſcure touching your high deſcent;—
And now this hoary ſage—is he your father?
My mind is loſt in wonder and in doubt.—
ZENOBIA.
Then to diſpel thy doubts, and tell at once
What deep reſerve has hid within my heart,
—I am Zenobia—I that ill-ſtarr'd wretch!
The daughter of a ſcepter'd anceſtry,
And now the ſlave of Mithridates' brother!
ZELMIRA.
Long loſt Zenobia, and reſtor'd at length!
I am your ſubject; oh! my queen! my ſov'reign!
ZENOBIA.
Thou gen'rous friend! Riſe, my Zelmira, riſe.
—That good old man!—oh! it was he beheld me
Borne far away from Rhadamiſtus' arms,
Juſt periſhing, juſt loſt!—
He daſh'd into the flood, redeem'd me thence,
And brought be back to life.—My op'ning eyes
Juſt ſaw the light, and clos'd again to ſhun it.
Each vital pow'r was ſunk, but he, well ſkill'd
In potent herbs, recall'd by flutt'ring ſoul.
ZELMIRA.
May the propitious gods reward his care.
ZENOBIA.
With me he ſav'd a dear, a precious boy,
Then in the womb conceal'd;—he ſav'd my child
To trace his father's lov'd reſemblance to me,
The dear, dear offspring of our bridal loves.
ZELMIRA.
[15]Oh! bleſſings on him, bleſſings on his head!—
ZENOBIA.
Reſign'd and patient I ſince dwelt with him—
Far in the mazes of a winding wood,
Midſt hoary mountains, and deep cavern'd rocks.
But oh! the fond idea of my lord
Purſued me ſtill, or in the cavern'd rock,
The mountain's brow, and pendent foreſt's gloom.
The ſun look'd joyleſs down;—each' lonely night
Heard my griefs ecchoing thro' the woodland ſhade.
—My infant Rhadamiſtus!—he is loſt,
He too is wreſted from me!—'midſt the rage
And the wide waſte of war, the hell-hound troops
Of Pharaſmanes ſought my lone retreat,
And from the violated ſhades, from all
My ſoul held dear, the barb'rous ruffians tore me,
And never ſhall the wretched mother ſee
Her child again!—
ZELMIRA.
Heav'n may reſtore him ſtill,—
May ſtill reſtore your royal huſband too—
Who knows but ſome protecting god—
ZENOBIA.
No god!
No guardian pow'r was preſent!—he is loſt!—
Oh! Rhadamiſtus!—oh! my honour'd lord!
No pitying eye beheld thy decent form;—
The rolling flood devour'd thee!—thou haſt found
A watry grave, and the laſt diſmal accents
That trembled on thy tongue, came bubbling up,
And murmur'd loſt Zenobia!
ZELMIRA.
Yet be calm.—
The gods may bring redreſs—even now they give
To miſery like thine, the heartfelt joy
Of ſhielding injured virtue.
ZENOBIA.
[16]Yes, Zelmira,
That pure delight is mine, a ray from heav'n
That bids affliction ſmile—All gracious pow'rs!
Make me your agent here to ſave Megiſtus,
I'll bear the load of life,—bear all it's ills
Till you ſhall bid this ſad world-weary ſpirit
To peaceful regions wing her happy flight,
And ſeek my lord in the dark realms of Night;
Seek his dear ſhade In ev'ry penſive grove,
And bear him all my conſtancy and love.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
ACT the SECOND.
[17]TIGRANES.
A Falſe accuſer deem'd!—artificer of fraud!
Thoſe words, intemp'rate boy—thy phrenzy too
Deluded fair!—ſhall coſt you dear atonement.
Yet till occaſion riſe—the king approaches.
Grand warlike muſic.
A Military Proceſſion: Enter Pharaſmanes, &c.
PHARASMANES.
At length the ſame of Pharaſmanes' arms
Hath aw'd the Nations round—Rome ſhrinks aghaſt
With pale diſmay, recalls her trembling legions,
And deprecates the war—oh! what a ſcene
Of glorious havoc had yon field beheld,
If peaceful counſels had not check'd my fury!
—Valiant Tigranes, thoſe rebellious ſlaves,
Thy care detected,—have they ſuffer'd death?
TIGRANES.
Your pardon, Sir—their doom as yet ſuſpended—
The gen'rous prince—I would not utter aught
Should injure Teribazus—
PHARASMANES.
Ha!—proceed,
And give me all the truth—
TIGRANES.
By his command—
His tender nature deem'd it barb'rous rigour
To urge their ſentence—
PHARASMANES.
Vain aſpiring boy!
Tell Teribazus,
[Enter Zenobia]
—tell th' unthinking prince,
[18] The raſh preſumptuous ſtripling, theſe his arts,
Theſe practices of popular demeanour,
Are treaſon to his father—let him know
Thro' wide Armenia and Iberia's realm
My will is fate—the ſlaves ſhall meet their doom.
ZENOBIA.
Oh! mighty king,—thus bending lowly down,—
An humble ſuppliant—
PHARASMANES.
Ariana here!
Thou beauteous mourner, let no care moleſt
Thy tender boſom;—riſe and bid thy charms
Beam forth their gentleſt luſtre to adorn
The glories of my triumph.
ZENOBIA.
Oh! a wretch like me
It beſt befits thus groveling on the earth
To bathe your feet with tears—
PHARASMANES.
It muſt not be—
He raiſes her.
By heav'n renown in arms in vain attends me,
If the lov'd graces of thy matchleſs form
Are thus depreſs'd and languiſh in affliction,
Like flow'rs that droop and hang their pining heads
Beneath the rigour of relentleſs ſkies.
ZENOBIA.
If thou would'ſt raiſe me from the depths of woe,
Forgive thoſe captives, whom thy fatal anger
Adjudg'd to death, nor let ill-tim'd reſentment
Fall on the prince your ſon—'twas I—my tears—
My piercing lamentations won his heart
To arreſt their doom—
PHARASMANES.
For traitors to my crown
Does Ariana plead?—
ZENOBIA.
[19]For mild humanity
My ſuppliant voice is rais'd—I point the means
To add new glory to your fame in arms.
In naught ſo near can men approach the gods
As the dear act of giving life to others.—
In feats of war the glory is divided,
To all imparted,—to each common man,—
And fortune too ſhall vindicate her ſhare.—
—But of ſweet mercy,—the vaſt, vaſt renown
Is all your own; nor officer, nor ſoldier
Can claim a part—the praiſe, the honour'd praiſe,
Adorns the victor,—nor is th' eccho loſt
'Midſt ſhouts of armies, and the trumpet's ſound.
He conquers even victory itſelf,
Than hero more—a bleſſing to the world!—
PHARASMANES.
Thy eloquence diſarms my ſtubborn ſoul.
But wherefore urgent thus?—amidſt the band
Is there who claims thy ſoft ſolicitude?
ZENOBIA.
A hoary ſage—alas! a more than father—
The beſt of men!—preſerver of my being,—
A blameleſs ſhepherd!—rude of fraud and guilt,
Innoxious thro' his life'—oh! mighty king,
Spare an old man,—a venerable ſire!
Naught has your fortune greater than the pow'r
To ſerve humanity!—ſhew that your heart
Has the ſweet grace, the gen'rous virtue too!
PHARASMANES.
My ſoul relents, and yields to thy entreaty,
Thy violence of pray'r—releaſe him ſtreight—
My brighteſt honours wait him;—honours fit
For him who gave thee birth;—for him whoſe virtue
Thy gen'rous ſoul deems worthy it's eſteem.
ZENOBIA.
Our humble ſtation ſeeks nor pomp nor ſplendor—
We only aſk, unenvied and obſcure,
To live in blameleſs innocence,—to ſeek
[20] Our calm retreat, embrac'd in depth of woods,
And dwell with peace and humble virtue there.
PHARASMANES.
That coy diſdain, which ſhuns admiring eyes,
Attracts the more, exalting ev'ry charm.
No more of humble birth—thy matchleſs beauty,
Like gems, that in the mine conceal their luſtre,
Was form'd to dignify the eaſtern throne.
My ſceptre, that ſtrikes terror to each heart,
Grac'd by thy decent hand ſhall make each ſubject
Adore thy ſofter ſway—The glorious aera
Of Pharaſmanes' love,—his date of empire
With Ariana ſhar'd, henceforth begins,
And leads the laughing hours—but firſt the ſtorm
Of war and wild commotion muſt be huſh'd—
That mighty care now calls me to my throne,
To give the Roman audience; audience fit
To ſtrike a citizen of Rome with awe,
When he beholds the majeſty of kings.
going.
Enter TERIBAZUS.
TERIBAZUS.
Dread Sir, the Roman embaſſy approaches.—
From yonder rampart, that inveſts your camp,
I heard their horſes hoofs with eager ſpeed
Beat the reſounding ſoil.—
PHARASMANES.
Let 'em approach—
And thou, whoſe arrogance—but I forbear—
When Ariana pardons, my reſentment
Yields to her ſmile, and looks away it's rage.
As when the crimes of men Jove's wrath demand,
And the red thunder quivers in his hand;
The queen of love his vengeance can diſarm
With the ſoft eloquence of ev'ry charm;
Controul his paſſions with reſiſtleſs ſway,
And the impending ſtorm ſmile to ſereneſt day.
Exit with his train.
[21] ZENOBIA, TERIBAZUS.
TERIBAZUS.
And may I then once more, thou bright perfection,
May Teribazus once again approach thee,
While thus my father,—my ambitious father,
At ſight of thee forgets his cruel nature,
And wonders how he feels thy beauty's pow'r?
Oh! may I—but I'm too importunate—
Your looks rebuke me from you,—and I ſee
How hateful I am grown!—
ZENOBIA.
Miſtake me not,
Nor raſhly thus arraign the looks of one,
Whoſe heart lies bleeding here—thy gen'rous worth
Is oft the live-long day my fav'rite theme.
But oh! for me,—for wretched Ariana,
The god of love long ſince hath quench'd his torch,
And ev'ry ſource of joy lies dead within me.
TERIBAZUS.
That cold averted look!—but I am us'd
To bear your ſcorn;—your ſcorn that wounds the deeper,
Maſk'd as it is with pity and eſteem.
Yet love incurable,—relentleſs love
Burns here a conſtant flame, that riſes ſtill
And will to madneſs kindle, ſhould I ſee
That hoard of ſweets, that treaſury of charms
Yield to another, to a barb'rous rival
Who perſecutes a ſon to his undoing.
ZENOBIA.
If Ariana's happineſs would wound thee,
Thou'lt ne'er have cauſe to murmur or repine.
Naught can divorce me from the black deſpair
To which I've long been wedded.—
TERIBAZUS.
Calm diſdain,
I grant you, well becomes the tyrant fair
Whom Pharaſmanes deſtines for his throne.
But oh! in pity to this breaking heart,
[22] Give me, in mercy give ſome other rival,
Whom I may ſtab,—without remorſe may ſtab,
Midſt his delight, in all his heav'n of bliſs,
And ſpurn him from the joys, that ſcorpion-like
Shoot anguiſh here—here thro' my very ſoul.
ZENOBIA.
Alas! too gen'rous prince, the gods long ſince
Between us both fix'd their eternal bar.
TEREBAZUS.
What ſay'ſt thou Ariana?—ha! beware,
Nor urge me to deſtraction—Love like mine,
Fierce, gener'ous, wild,—with diſappointment wild,
May rouze my deſp'rate rage to do a deed
Will make all nature ſhudder.—Love deſpis'd
Not always can reſpect the ties of nature!—
—Driven to extremes the tend'reſt paſſion ſcorn'd
May hate at length the object it adores,
And ſtung to madneſs—no!—inhuman fair,
You ſtill muſt be,—in all viciſſitudes,
In all the ſcenes misfortune has in ſtore,
You ſtill muſt be the ſov'reign of my ſoul.
But for the favour'd, for the happy rival,
By heav'n, who e'er he be,—deſpair and phrenzy
May ſtrike the blow, and daſh him from your arms
A ſacrifice to violated love.
ZENOBIA,
Why thus diſtract yourſelf with vain ſuſpicions?
— You have no rival, whom your rage can murder —
—None in the pow'r of fate—oh! Teribazus,
The wretched Ariana—long, long ſince—
—My heart ſwells o'er—I cannot ſpeak—a duty,
A rigorous duty bids me ne'er accept
Thy proferr'd love;—a duty, which, if known,
Would in eternal ſilence ſeal thy vows,
Turn all thy rage to tears, and, oh! my prince!
Bid thee reſpect calamities like mine.
Exit.
TERIBAZUS.
Yet Ariana ſtay—turn, turn and hear me—
She's gone, the cruel, unrelenting fair!
[23] And leaves me thus to miſery of ſoul.
Enter ZOPIRON.
Flamminius, from the Romans is arriv'd,
And bears the olive-branch—the king your father
Aſſembles all his nobles—
TERIBAZUS.
Say, Zopiron,
Does Rome yield up Armenia?
ZOPIRON.
Rome is ſtill
The ſcourge of lawleſs pow'r—a people's rights
The conſcript fathers have reſolv'd to ſhield,
And to the lineal heir aſſert the crown.
TERIBAZUS.
May the ſtern god of battles aid their arms,
And fight with the deliverers of mankind!
Unnatural father! that would ſeize my ſceptre,
Mine as my brother's heir, and raviſh with it
The idol of my ſoul—but now no more
His tyranny prevails—to empire rais'd,
'Twill be the pride of my exulting heart.
To lay my crown at Ariana's feet.
Exit.
ZOPIRON.
Unhappy prince! ſhould Pharaſmanes know
His ardent paſſion for the captive maid,
Alas! his fatal rage—propitious pow'rs!
May theſe events,—may Rome's ambaſſador,—
Oh! may he come with concord in his train,
And far avert the ills my heart forebodes!—
But lo! Flamminius.—
Enter RHADAMISTUS,
ZOPIRON.
Welcome to theſe tents
The harbinger of peace!
RHADAMISTUS.
Does your king know
Flamminius waits his leiſure!
ZOPIRON.
[24]He prepares
To hear you, Roman!—
RHADAMISTUS.
As I tread his camp
There is I know not what of horror ſhoots
Thro' all my frame, and diſconcerted reaſon
Suſpends her function,—a black train of crime,
Murders, and luſt, and rapine, cities ſack'd,
Nations laid waſte by the deſtructive ſword,
A thouſand ruthleſs deeds all riſe to view,
And ſhake my inmoſt ſoul, as I approach
The author of calamity and ruin.
ZOPIRON.
Then from a Roman, from a ſon of freedom
Let the fell tyrant hear the voice of truth,
The ſtrong reſiſtleſs ſtrain, which liberty
Breathes in her capitol, till his proud heart
Shudder with inward horror at itſelf.
RHADAMISTUS.
In Pharaſmanes camp that honeſt ſtile!
—Thy viſage bears the characters of virtue.
—Wilt thou impart thy name and quality?
ZOPIRON,
In me you ſee Zopiron!—deem me not
A vile abettor of the tyrant's guilt.—
To me Armenia truſts her ſacred rights;
Hither her choſen deligate ſhe ſends me,
At the tribunal of Iberia's king,
To plead her cauſe, an injur'd people's cauſe!
Oh! never, never ſhall my native land
Yield to a vile uſurper.
RHADAMISTUS.
Rome has heard
Thy patriot toil for freedom—Rhadamiſtus
Has heard thy gen'rous ardour in his cauſe,
And pants to recompence thy truth and zeal.
ZOPIRON.
[25]Oh! name not Rhadamiſtus—now no more
The god-like youth ſhall bleſs Armenia's realm.
The fates juſt ſhew'd him to the wond'ring world,
And then untimely ſnatch'd him from our ſight!—
RHADAMISTUS.
And didſt thou know the prince?
ZOPIRON.
My lot ſevere
Denied that tranſport;—but the voice of fame
Endears his memory.
RHADAMISTUS.
A time may come
When you may meet, and both in friendſhip burn.
—Still Rhadamiſtus lives!—
ZOPIRON.
Said'ſt thou Flamminius!—
Lives he?
RHADAMISTUS.
Still he ſurvives;—from death and peril
Sav'd by a miracle!—and now for him
Rome claims Armenia.—
ZOPIRON.
Claims Armenia for him!—
For Rhadamiſtus claims!—and will ye, god!
Still will ye give him to a nation's pray'rs:
RHADAMISTUS.
Alas! he lives;—heart-broken, deſolate,
In ſorrow plung'd,—abandon'd to deſpair!—
ZOPIRON.
The righteous gods will vindicate his cauſe.—
His lov'd Zenobia, Mithridates' daughter,
That ev'ry excellence—does ſhe too live?
[26] Have the indulgent pow'rs watch'd o'er her fate,
And ſav'd her for her people?—
RHADAMISTUS.
There, Zopiron,
There lies the wound that pierces to his ſoul,
The ſharpeſt pang,—that rends,—that cleaves his heart.
—Oh! never more ſhall lovely loſt Zenobia,
That angel form,—that pattern of all goodneſs,
No, never more—ſhe's gone, for ever gone!
Thou wouldſt not think—her barb'rous, cruel huſband—
With his own hand—the recollected tale
Of horror ſhakes my frame to diſſolution!—
Her huſband!—he!—that dear, that tender form—
Oh!—poor Zenobia—oh!—
Falls into ſwoon.
ZOPIRON.
He faints;—he falls!—
Can Roman ſtoiciſm thus diſſolve
In tender pity?—riſe, Flamminius, riſe;
He ſtirs; he breathes;—and life begins to wander
O'er his forſaken cheek.—Reſume thy ſtrength,
And like a Roman triumph o'er your tears.—
RHADAMISTUS.
I'll not be forc'd back to a wretched world.—
No;—let me,—let me die.—
ZOPIRON.
His eyes reject
The cheerful light—what can this anguiſh mean?
RHADAMISTUS.
You do but waſte your pains;—it is in vain!—
Away and leave a murd'rer to his woes.—
ZOPIRON.
Why thus accuſe thyſelf?—I'll not believe it—
Thus let me raiſe thee from the earth—
RHADAMISTUS.
Alas!
(riſing)
—Deſpair weighs heavy on me.
ZOPIRON.
[27]Still I muſt
Controul this ſudden phrenzy—
RHADAMISTUS.
Oh! Zopiron,—
Here,—here it lies—
ZOPIRON.
Unburthen all, and eaſe
Your loaded heart—it cannot be—thou never wert
A murd'rer!—
RHADAMISTUS.
Yes!—the horror of the world!—
A murd'rous wretch!—the fatal Rhadamiſtus!—
'Twas I—theſe felon hands!—with treach'rous love
I claſp'd her in this curs'd embrace—I bore her
In theſe deteſted arms, and gave that beauty,
That tender form to the devouring waves.—
Plunge me, ye furies, in your lakes of fire—
Here fix,—fix all your vultures in my heart!—
And lo! they ruſh upon me
(ſtarts up)
ſee! ſee there!With racks and wheels they come;—they tear me piece-meal—
'Tis juſt Zenobia!—I deſerve it all—
Falls upon Zopiron.
ZOPIRON.
Aſſiſt him guardian pow'rs!—your own high will
Guides theſe events!—revive, my prince, revive!
RHADAMISTUS.
Why thus recall me to deſpair and horror?
To bid me hate the light, deteſt myſelf,
Traitor to nature,—traitor to my love!
—And yet, Zopiron,—yet I am not plung'd
So far in guilt, but thou may'ſt pity me!—
Heav'n, I atteſt,—yes you can witneſs gods!
I meant to periſh with her—but the fates
Denied that comfort—from her circling arms
The torrent bore me far—expiring, ſenſeleſs,
Gaſping in death, the overflowing tide
[28] Impetuous drove me on th' unwiſh'd for ſhore.
—There ſoon deſerted by the mercileſs ſtream
A band of Romans, as from Syria's frontier
They rang'd the country round,—deſcried me ſtretch'd
Pale and inanimate—with barb'rous pity
They lent their aid, and chain'd me to the rack
Of inauſpicious life!—
ZOPIRON.
For wond'rous ends
Myſterious providence has ſtill reſerv'd you,
To circulate the happineſs of millions,
A patriot prince!—
RHADAMISTUS.
Would they had let me periſh!—
What has a wretch like me to do in life,
When my Zenobia's loſt?—'tis true, my friend,
She begg'd to die—but that pathetic look,
Her tears, embraces, and thoſe ſtreaming eyes
Still beauteous in diſtreſs!—each winning grace,
Her ev'ry charm ſhould have forbid the deed,
And pleaded for her life!
ZOPIRON.
And yet, my prince,
When ſelf-acquitting conſcience—
RHADAMISTUS.
Self-condemn'd
My ſoul is rack'd,—is tortur'd—not her child,
Her unborn infant,—the firſt fruit of love,
Not ev'n her babe could with the voice of nature
Plead for itſelf,—or for it's wretched mother.—
They periſh'd both,—ſhe and her little one,
And I ſurvive to tell it.—
ZOPIRON.
Let not grief
O'erwhelm your reaſon thus—what! when your father,
Your cruel father, reeking from the blood
Of Mithridates—
RHADAMISTUS.
[29]Naught but death was left,
Yet ev'n that laſt, ſad refuge was debarr'd me!—
E'er ſince I've liv'd in miſery;—my days
Were colour'd all with anguiſh and deſpair!
Long from the Romans I conceal'd my name.
At length reveal'd me to a choſen friend;—
—Journey'd with him to Rome; and in full ſenate
Told all the diſmal ſtory of my woes.
The conſcript fathers heard, and dropt a tear—
Then to quick vengeance fir'd, diſpatch'd their legions
To wage the war; Paulinus leads them on,
And now to me commits this embaſſy,
With fully delegated pow'rs from Rome.
ZOPIRON.
With one united voice Armenia calls
For Mithridates' heir!—convinc'd by rumour
That thou ar't loſt, the gen'ral cry demands
Your brother Teribazus—
RHADAMISTUS.
He, Zopiron,
Is to theſe eyes a ſtranger.—
ZOPIRON.
Hapleſs prince!
A cloud of woes lies brooding o'er his head.
A fair, a lovely captive rules his heart;
Her name is Ariana; and indeed
No wonder ſhe attracts his ſoft regard,
And kindles all the vehemence of love.
The tyrant eyes her too with fierce deſire,—
And ruin nods o'er Teribazus' head.
RHADAMISTUS.
By heav'n it ſhall not be—alas! I know
The pang of loſing whom the heart adores.—
I'll yield him up Armenia—what are crowns
But toys of vain ambition, when the lov'd
The dear pertaker of my throne is loſt?
[30] Enter TIGRANES.
ZOPIRON.
What would Tigranes?
TIGRANES.
Pharaſmanes calls
Flamminius to his preſence—
RHADAMISTUS.
I attend him;—
So tell your king—
TIGRANES.
Inſtant he waits thee Roman.
Exit.
RHADAMISTUS.
How my heart trembles at the awful meeting!
ZOPIRON.
Then ſummon all your ſtrength—the lapſe of time
From early youth, when Pharaſmanes ſaw you,
Affliction's inward ſtroke,—that Roman garb,
All will protect, and cloak you from detection!—
RHADAMISTUS.
Zopiron yes; in this important criſis,
When violated laws, and injur'd men,
When my own wrongs are lab'ring in my heart,
The great occaſion calls for firmeſt vigour.
Yes, in this interview I will maintain
A Roman's part;—in Pharaſmanes' ſoul
I'll wake the furies of deteſted guilt,
And pour the rapid energy of truth
Till ev'n to himſelf his crimes are known,
And the uſurper tremble on his throne.
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
ACT the THIRD.
[31]PHARASMANES, on his throne: TIGRANES, ZOPIRON, Officers, &c.
PHARASMANES.
WHERE is this bold republican from Rome?
This enemy of kings?—Tigranes, thou
Bid the Plebeian enter—Pharaſmanes
Vouchſafes him audience.—
Enter FLAMMINIUS.
PHARASMANES.
Now, Flamminius, ſay
What motive brings you to Araxes' banks,
To wage this ſlow, this philoſophic war?
RHADAMISTUS.
By me, unworthy of th' important charge,
By me, unequal to the arduous theme,
The conſcript fathers here explain their conduct,
And juſtify the ways of Rome to kings.
PHARASMANES.
Roman, thou may'ſt declaim with all thy pomp
Of idle eloquence.
RHADAMISTUS.
No pow'r of words,
No graceful periods of harmonious ſpeech
Dwell on my lip—the only art I boaſt
Is honeſt truth, unpoliſh'd, unadorn'd!—
Truth that muſt ſtrike conviction to your heart,
Truth that informs you,—to uſurp a crown,
For dire ambition to unpeople realms,
Are violations of each ſacred law,
And bid the Roman eagle wing'd with vengeance
To the Araxes' margin bend her flight,
To tell deſtruction it ſhall rage no more.
PHARASMANES.
[32]And dares Paulinus' ſoldier,—dar'ſt thou ſlave
Thus offer vile indignity, and mouthe
The language of your forum to a king?
RHADAMISTUS.
Rome knows, and owns you as Iberia's king,
But not Armenia's.—
PHARASMANES.
Ha!—
RHADAMISTUS.
Th' aſſembled ſenate
Acknowledges your vaſt renown in arms,
And honours the unſhaken fortitude
Ev'n of a foe—but, Sir, the fortitude,
Whoſe brutal rage lays nations deſolate,
It is the glory of imperial Rome
To humble and ſubdue—It is the glory
Of Rome, that ſpares the vanquiſh'd, 'tis her pride
To ſet the nations free;—to fix the bounds
Of the fell tyrant's pow'r;—to trace the circle
From which he muſt not move—theſe are the arts
The bright prerogative of Rome—of Rome,
The miſtreſs of the world, whoſe conqu'ring banners
O'er Aſia's realms ſo oft have wav'd in triumph,
And made ev'n kings her ſubjects—
PHARASMANES.
Ha! vain boaſter!
RHADAMISTUS.
Made oriental kings, ſhort by the knee
Accept their crown, with tears of joy accept it,
And be the viceroys of a Roman ſenate.
PHARASMANES.
And this to Pharaſmanes?—has not yet
A train of conqueſts taught you to revere
This good right arm in war?—This arm the Parthians
Have felt with, fatal overthrow—no ſpoil,
[33] No trophies won from me have grac'd their triumphs;
No friends of mine were harneſs'd to their chariots;—
No captive chief, like your own mangled Craſſus,
There roams a ſullen ghoſt, and calls for vengeance,
For vengeance ſtill unpaid, and calls in vain
For the ſad funeral rites:—Would Rome preſume
To wreſt Armenia from me,—lo! my banners
From froſty Caucaſus to Phaſis' banks
Wave high in air, and ſhadow all the land.
Call your embattled legions—or does Rome,
All conqu'ring Rome, that miſtreſs of the world,
Does ſhe at length by her ambaſſadors
Negotiate thus the war?
RHADAMISTUS.
Rome, Sir, commands
The ſubject world, for ſhe adores the gods—
And their all pow'rful aid.—
PHARASMANES.
Wouldſt thou diſpute
My lawful claim,—arm thee with ſword and fire;
Not with vain ſubtleties, and idle maxims.—
Armenia's crown is mine,—deriv'd to me,
Heir to a brother, and a ſon deceas'd.—
RHADAMISTUS.
And can a murd'rer, can the midnight ruffian
Prove himſelf heir—by the aſſaſſin's ſtab?—
PHARASMANES;
Thou baſe reviler!—
Comes forward and draws his fabre.
TIGRANES.
Moderate your fury;
It were unjuſt—
[holding him]
ZOPIRON.
The character he bears,—
The laws of nations—
PHARASMANES.
Thou baſe inſolent!
[34] Who dar'ſt to wound the ear of ſacred kings
With a black crime, that's horrible to nature!—
RHADAMISTUS.
Yes horrible to nature!—yet the world
Has heard it all—Thou art the man of blood!
A brother's blood yet ſmokes upon thy hand—
Not his white age, his venerable looks,
Not ev'n his godlike virtues could withhold thee!—
Gaſh'd o'er with wounds he falls;—he bleeds, he dies,
Without a groan he dies!—that is thy work,
Thine, murd'rer, thine!—
PHARASMANES.
No more—the hand of heav'n
Shook from the blaſted tree the wither'd fruit—
RHADAMISTUS.
Forbear the impious ſtrain—it is the ſtile
Ambition ſpeaks, when for a crown it ſtabs,
Then dares, with execrable mock'ry dares
Traduce the governing all-righteous mind.
PHARASMANES.
He harrows up my ſoul!—and do'ſt thou think
A mad man's ravings—
RHADAMISTUS.
Since that hour accurſt
Haſt thou not plung'd thee deeper ſtill in guilt?
Your ſon—your blameleſs ſon—
PHARASMANES.
His crimes provok'd
A fathers wrath—his and Zenobia's crimes!—
RHADAMISTUS.
She too—untimely loſt—unbidden tears
Forbear to ſtream, nor quite unman me thus.
PHARASMANES.
In tears!—by heav'n; thou woman hearted ſlave,
[35] Thoſe coward ſymptoms have ſome latent ſpring
That lies conceal'd within that treach'rous heart.
RHADAMISTUS.
They are the tears humanity lets fall
When ſoft ey'd beauty dies untimely ſlain.—
But to avenge her death, array'd in terror
The Roman legions—
PHARASMANES.
Lead 'em to the charge.—
Thou quit my camp:—If when yon ſun deſcends
Thou linger'ſt here, the title of ambaſſador
Shall naught avail to ſave thee from my fury.
RHADAMISTUS.
E'er that reſign Armenia—Till the cloſe
Of day, I give thee leiſure to revolve
The vengeance Rome prepares—Thou know'ſt
With what a pond'rous arm her hardy ſons
Lift the avenging ſpear.—Be timely wife,
Nor dare provoke your fate.
Exit.
PHARASMANES.
Roman farewel!—
Do thou, Tigranes, iſſue forth my orders
From tent to tent, that each man ſtand prepar'd
For the dead midnight hour—with ſilent march,
Then will I pour with ruinous aſſault
Upon th' aſtoniſh'd foe, my horſes hoofs.
Imbrue in blood, and give to-morrow's ſun
A ſpectacle of horror and deſtruction.—
He aſcends his throne, and the back ſcene clos;es.
Enter ZENOBIA and MEGISTUS.
ZENOBIA.
Oh! tell me all Megiſtus; let me hear
All that concerns my child,—my blooming boy,
My little Rhadamiſtus—is he ſafe?
Give me the truth—do not deceive a mother
Who doats Upon her babe—is my child ſafe?
MEGISTUS.
[36]Dry up your tears—I cannot hear to ſee you
Afflicted thus—your infant hero's ſafe
You may believe your faithful old Megiſtus—
ZENOBIA.
I do believe thee—but excuſe my weakneſs—
My flutt'ring fears for ever paint him to me
By ruffians ſeiz'd, and as he ſees the knife
Aim'd at his little throat, in vain imploring
For me by name, and begging my aſſiſtance,
While far, far off his miſerable mother
No aid can give, nor ſnatch him to her heart.
MEGISTUS.
I never yet deceiv'd you—by yon heav'n
The prince ſtill lives—when I regain'd my cottage
After the toils of many a weary day,
I found him there—but griev'd and wond'ring much
Where his dear mother was.
ZENOBIA.
Megiſtus tell me,
Oh! tell me each particular; his looks.
All his apt queſtions, his enchanting words;
For I could hear of him for ever—lovely youth;
His father's image blooming in his boy!
Thro' ſev'n revolving years my only comfort!
—When from my eyes the ſudden ſorrows guſh'd,
How would he look, and aſk his wretched mother
What meant thoſe falling tears?—alas! ev'n now
I ſee him here before me—did my child
Think his poor mother loſt?
MEGISTUS.
At firſt he ſeem'd
To pine in thought at your long weary abſence,
And many a look he caſt, that plainly ſpoke
His little boſom heav'd with various paſſions.
Still would he ſeek you in each well known haunt,
Each bow'r, each cavern, like the tender fawn
That thro' the woodland ſeeks it's mother loſt,
[37] Exploring all around with anxious eye,
And looking ſtill unutterable grief,
Lonely and ſad, and ſtung with keen regret.
ZENOBIA.
Did my child weep?—not much I hope—
MEGISTUS.
With ſoothing tales
I labour'd to beguile him from his ſorrow;—
I promis'd your return;—a gentle ſmile
Brighten'd his anxious look; he ſigh'd content,
And then I led him to a ſafer dwelling
Among the ſhepherds of the Syrian vale,
Who all have ſworn to guard him as their own,
And in due ſeaſon lead him to the Romans.
ZENOBIA.
Oh! may thoſe ſhepherds know the kindeſt influence
Of the indulgent heav'ns!—yet why not ſtay
To guard him—but i'll not complain—on me
Your cares were fix'd—oh! tell me how the gods
Watch'd ov'r all thy ways, and brought thee to me?
Where haſt thou liv'd theſe many, many days?—
MEGISTUS.
In bitterneſs of ſoul I've liv'd, thy fate
Thy [...]ender form deep imag'd in my breaſt!
I rang'd the banks where the Araxes flows,
But bring, alas! no tidings of your lord.
Heart-broken, wearied out, I meaſur'd back
My feeble ſteps,—but thou wer't raviſh'd thence;—
For thee I travers'd hills and foreſts drear;
Thee I invok'd, that ey'ry cavern'd rock,
Each vale, each mountain eccho'd with thy name.
ZENOBIA.
And here at length you find me, here encompaſs'd
With all the worſt of ills—hence let us fly
To the bleſs'd Syrian vally, where my child
Wins with his early manhood ev'ry heart,
And calls for me, and chides this long delay.
MEGISTUS.
[38]Vain the attempt—one only way is left—
Reveal thee to th' ambaſſador of Rome.—
Safe in his train thou may'ſt eſcape this place,
And gain Paulinus' camp—Zenobia known
Will meet protection there.—
ZENOBIA.
The gods inſpire
The happy counſel—ha!— Tigranes comes!
Retire Megiſtus
(he goes out)
a gay dawn of hopeBeams forth at length, and lights up day within me.
ZENOBIA, TIGRANES.
TIGRANES.
Hail princeſs, deſtin'd to imperial ſway,
To grace with beauty Pharaſmanes' throne!
By me the impatient king requeſts you'll fix
The happy nuptial hour.—
ZENOBIA.
Thou might'ſt as well
Command me wed the forked lightnings blaze
That gilds the ſtorm, and be in love with horror.
TIGRANES.
Take heed, raſh fair!—an eaſtern monarch's love,
Ardent as his, muſt not be made the ſport
Of tyrant beauty—when a rival dares
Oppoſe his ſov'reign's wiſh—
ZENOBIA.
Does Pharaſmanes,
Say,—does your king permit his ſpies of ſtate,
That curſe of human kind, to breathe their whiſpers
In his deluded ear?
TIGRANES.
Full well 'tis known
That Teribazus bids you thus revolt,
And draws your heart's allegiance from your king.
ZENOBIA.
[39]Thou vile accuſer!—if the prince's virtues
Have touch'd my boſom, what haſt thou to urge?
—What if a former Hymeneal vow
Has bound my ſoul?—what if a father, Sir,
A father dear as my heart's purple drops,
Enjoin a rigid duty ne'er to ſhare
The throne of Mithridates with a murderer?
TIGRANES.
Madam, thoſe words—
ZENOBIA.
Thou inſtrument of ill!
Who ſtill ar't ready with a tale ſuborn'd,
And if thou ar't not perjur'd, dar'ſt betray,—
Away—and let thy conſcience tell the reſt.
Exit.
TIGRANES, alone.
Vain haughty fair!—thou haſt provok'd my rage
By wrongs unnumber'd—but for all thoſe wrongs
Soon ſhall inevitable ruin ſeize thee.—
Enter RHADAMISTUS.
RHADAMISTUS.
Perhaps e're this your king's tumultuous paſſions
Sink to a calm, and reaſon takes her turn.
Then ſeek him, Sir, and bear a Roman's meſſage,
The terms of peace humanity ſuggeſts.
Tell him Flamminius wiſhes to prevent
The rage of ſlaughter, and the ſtreams of blood
Which elſe ſhall deluge yonder crimſon plains.
TIGRANES.
Already, Roman, his reſolve is fix'd.—
War, horrid war impends,—
RHADAMISTUS.
And yet in pity
To human kind, to the unhappy millions
[40] Who ſoon ſhall die, and with their ſcatter'd bones
Whiten the plains of Aſia,—it were beſt
To ſheathe the ſword, and join in Rome's alliance.
Wilt thou convey my meſſage?
TIGRANES.
I obey.—
Exit.
RHADAMISTUS. alone.
May ſome propitious pow'r inſpire his heart,
And touch the ſprings of human kindneſs in him.
Elſe againſt whom amidſt the charging hoſts
Muſt Rhadamiſtus' ſword be levell'd?—ha!—
Spite of his crimes he is my father ſtill—
And muſt this arm againſt the ſource of life—
Nay more,—perhaps againſt a brother too,
—A brother ſtill unknown!—he too may die
By this unconſcious hand!—this hand already
Inur'd to murder whom my heart adores!
—My brother then may bleed!—and when in death
Gaſping he lies, and pours his vital ſtream,
Then in that moment ſhall the gen'rous youth
Extend his arms, and with a piteous look
Tell me—a brother doth forgive his murderer?—
—Gods! you have doom'd me to the blackeſt woe,
To be a wretch abhorr'd, author of crimes
From which my tortur'd breaſt revolts with horror!
—Who's there?—a youth comes forward—now be firm,
Be firm my heart,—and guard thy fatal ſecret!—
Enter TERIBAZUS.
TERIBAZUS.
Illuſtrious Roman,—if misfortune's ſon,
A wretched,—ruin'd,—miſerable prince
May claim attention—
RHADAMISTUS.
Ha—can this be he!
The graces of his youth,—each feeling here,
Here at my heartſtrings tell me 'tis my brother!
aſide.
TERIBAZUS.
[41]I ſee you're mov'd, and I intrude too far.—
RHADAMISTUS.
Purſue your purpoſe—warmeſt friendſhip for you
Glows in this breaſt—
TERIBAZUS.
Tho' Pharaſmanes' fury
Maintains a fix'd hoſtility with Rome,
Blend not the ſon with all a father's crimes.—
RHADAMISTUS.
Go on—I pant to hear—
TERIBAZUS.
My father's cruelty
Each day breaks out in ſome new act of horror,
Nor lets the ſword grow cool from human blood
Firſt in his brother's breaſt he plung'd it;—then
Inflam'd to fiercer rage 'gainſt his own ſon,
Oh! Rhadamiſtus! thou much injur'd prince!—
RHADAMISTUS.
And didſt thou love that brother?
TERIBAZUS.
Gen'rous Roman,
He liv'd far hence remote—I ne'er beheld him,
But the wide world reſounded with his fame.
RHADAMISTUS.
Hold, hold my tears! —oh! they will burſt their way
At this his virtuous tenderneſs and love!
aſide.
TERIBAZUS.
And doſt thou weep too Roman?
RHADAMISTUS.
From ſuch horror,
[42] And ſo much cruelty my nature ſhrinks.—
Whatever purpoſe rolls within thy breaſt,
Boldly confide it—ſhall I arm'd with vengeance
Aſſault the purple tyrant in his camp?
Or wilt thou join my ſteps;—then in the front
Of a brave vet'ran legion head the war,
Seek the uſurper 'midſt his plumed troops,
And thus avenge mankind?
TERIBAZUS.
No; far from me,
Far be the guilt of meditating aught
Againſt the life from whence my being ſprung.
Let him oppreſs me,—he's a parent ſtill!—
RHADAMISTUS.
He rives my heart!—oh! what a lot is mine!
aſide.
TERIBAZUS.
Not for myſelf I fear; but oh! Flamminius,
A lovely captive,—'tis for her I tremble;—
For Ariana,—for that ſweet perfection;—
She is her ſex's boaſt!—her gentle boſom
Fraught with each excellence!—her form and feature
Touch'd by the hand of elegance;—adorn'd
By ev'ry grace, and caſt in beauty's mould!
—Her Pharaſmanes means to raviſh from me.—
But thou convey her hence—'tis all I aſk.—
RHADAMISTUS.
By heav'n I will—do thou too join our flight;
—Armenia ſhall be thine, and that ſweet maid
Reward thy goodneſs with connubial love,
Adorn thy throne, and make a nation bleſs'd!—
TERIBAZUS.
Make Ariana happy;—bear her hence
And ſave thoſe bright unviolated charms
From Pharaſmanes' pow'r—when wiſh'd for peace
Settles a jarring world, Flamminius then,
Then will I ſeek thee.—Wilt thou then reſign her?
RHADAMISTUS.
[43]Yes then, as pure as the unſullied ſnow
That never felt a ſunbeam;—then I'll give her
Back to thy faithful love.
TERIBAZUS.
Thou gen'rous Roman,
In gratitude I bow—ſhe's here at hand;
A moment brings her to you, while at diſtance
I watch each avenue, each winding path,
That none intrude upon your privacy.—
Exit.
RHADAMISTUS. alone.
At length I've ſeen my brother;—know how much
He differs from his father!—he ſhall ſeek
The Roman tents;—I'll there diſcloſe myſelf;
There will embrace him with a brother's love.—
Oh! how the tender tranſport heaves and ſwells,
Till thus the fond exceſs diſolves in tears!—
Enter MEGISTUS, leading ZENOBIA.
ZENOBIA.
Alas! my heart forebodes I know not what—
MEGISTUS.
Diſpel each doubt—this is your only refuge.—
ZENOBIA.
Thou gen'rous Roman,—if diſtreſs like mine—
If an unhappy captive may approach thee—
RHADAMISTUS.
To me affliction's voice—ye pow'rs of heav'n!
That air!—thoſe features!—that remember'd glance!
ZENOBIA.
If thus a wretch's preſence can alarm you—
RHADAMISTUS.
The muſic of that voice!—ſuch once ſhe look'd!
[44] And if I had not plung'd her in the ſtream,—
I could perſuade myſelf—
ZENOBIA.
Thoſe well known accents!
Theſe tender ſoft regards!—nay mock me not'—
I could not hope to ſee thee—tell me—ar't thou—
That once ador'd!—oh!
(faints into Megiſtus' arms)
MEGISTUS.
Ah! her ſtrength forſakes her—
Support her heav'n!—
(catches her in his arms.)
RHADAMISTUS.
Ye wonder-working gods!
Is this illuſion all? or does your goodneſs
Indeed reſtore her?—If I do not dream,
If this be true,—oh! let thoſe angel-eyes
Open to life, to love, and Rhadamiſtus.
MEGISTUS.
What further miracles doth heav'n prepare?—
ZENOBIA.
Forgive my weakneſs—the air-painted image
Of my lov'd lord—and ſee!—again it's preſent!—
That look that ſpeaks the fond impaſſion'd ſoul!
Yes, ſuch he was!—oh! art thou—tell me—ſay—
Ar't thou reſtor'd me?—art thou Rhadamiſtus?—
RHADAMISTUS.
I have not murder'd her!—benignant gods!
I am not guilty—my Zenobia lives!—
ZENOBIA.
It is my lord—oh! I can hold no longer,—
But thus delighted ſpring to his embrace,
Thus wander o'er him with my tears and kiſſes,
And thus, and thus,—ſpeak my enraptur'd ſoul.
RHADAMISTUS.
She lives! ſhe lives! what kind protecting god.
[45] Long loſt, and long lamented gives thee back,
Gives me to view thee, and to hear thy voice
With joy to ecſtacy, with tears to rapture?
ZENOBIA.
This good old man—'twas he preſerv'd me for you.—
MEGISTUS.
Oh! day of charms!—oh! unexpected hour!
I have not liv'd in vain—theſe guſhing eyes
Have ſeen their mutual tranſports!—
RHADAMISTUS.
Gen'rous friend,
Come to my heart,—Zenobia's ſecond father!—
ZENOBIA.
Thou art indebted more than thou can'ſt pay him,—
Indebted for our infant babe preſerv'd,
The bloſſom of our joys!—thou can'ſt not think
How much he looks, and moves, and talks like thee—
RHADAMISTUS.
Oh! mighty gods!—it is too much of bliſs,
Too exquiſite to bear!—theſe barb'rous hands
Had well nigh murder'd both my wife and child!
—Wilt thou forgive me—oh! my beſt delight,
Wilt thou receive a traitor to your arms?
—Wilt thou Zenobia?
ZENOBIA.
Will I, gracious heav'n?
Thou ſource of all my comfort!—
MEGISTUS.
Ha! beware,
Beware, my prince!—but now with haſty ſtep
I ſaw Tigranes circling yonder tent.
RHADAMISTUS.
Th' ambaſſador of Rome he ſeeks, on bus'neſs
Of import high—I will prevent his ſpeed
—And muſt I then ſo ſoon depart Zenobia?
ZENOBIA.
[46]Hence, quickly hence—anon we'll meet again—
RHADAMISTUS.
Yes, we will meet; the gods have giv'n thee to me,
And they will finiſh their own holy work.
Exit.
MEGISTUS.
My pray'rs are heard at length—Zenobia ſtill
Shall be Armenia's queen.—
ZENOBIA.
Oh! good Megiſtus,
Heav'n has been bounteous, and reſtor'd my lord.—
With him I'll fly, wrapt in the gloom of night,
And thou, Megiſtus, thou ſhal't join our flight;
Plac'd near his throne thy gen'rous zeal ſhall ſhare
The bright reward of all thy toil and care;
While I, redeem'd at length from fierce alarms,
Forget my woes in Rhadamiſtus' arms.
END OF THE THIRD ACT.
ACT the FOURTH.
[47]Enter RHADAMISTUS and TERIBAZUS.
TERIBAZUS.
THOU ar't a friend indeed, thou gen'rous man!
The beſt of friends, to ſave ſuch innocence,
That lovely virgin bloom!—the pious act
Shall to remoteſt time tranſmit thy name,
Ennobled by humanity and virtue.
RHADAMISTUS.
Alas! no praiſe I merit;—'tis a deed
That loſes virtue's name—
TERIBAZUS.
Flamminius, no!
Thou ſhalt not derogate from worth like thine.
But oh! beware, my friend, and ſteel thy heart
Againſt the ſweet illapſe of gentler paſſions.
—To love her were ſuch treachery!—by heav'n!
It were a fraud of a more damned hue—
A fraud to ſacred friendſhip!—but my ſoul
Rejects the mean ſuſpicion—thou ar't juſt,
And Ariana ſhall be mine again!—
RHADAMISTUS.
If when the tumult of the war is paſs'd,
You then perſiſt to claim her—
TERIBAZUS.
Then perſiſt!
—When I do not perſiſt,—whene'er my heart
Forgets the fond idea—ha!—take heed—
Your colour dies by fits,—and how again
It fluſhes o'er your cheek—if beauty's pow'r
Can waken ſoft deſire,—and ſure ſuch beauty
May warm the breaſt of ſtoic apathy,—
If thou can'ſt love,—reſign the truſt at once.
For oh! to loſe her, to behold thoſe charms.
[48] That all-perfection yielded to another,
Were the worſt agony, the keeneſt ſtab
That ever pierc'd a lover to the ſoul.—
The thought,—the very thought inflames to madneſs!—
RHADAMISTUS.
(Aſide)
Not till the fever of his mind ſubſides,Muſt I reveal me—the diſcloſure now
Would to his phrenzy give a whirlwind's wing,
And bury all in ruin—let her then;
Yes, Teribazus, let the blooming maid
Still in this camp, a Voluntary captive,
—Since you will have it ſo—ſince weak miſtruſt
Can taint a noble ſpirit,—let her here
Teach that rare beauty to diſplay it's charms,
It's various graces;—bid thoſe radiant eyes
Dart their quick glances to the tyrant's ſoul,
Inflame his hot deſires, and half abſolve them.
TERIBAZUS.
Madneſs and horror!—no!—haſte, fly, begone,
And give her hence ſafe-conduct—I can truſt
To Roman continence—your Scipio's praiſe
Shall be the theme of fame's eternal lip!—
RHADAMISTUS.
Thou too attend her ſteps;—watch all her ways;—
When we have reach'd the Roman ſanctuary,
Then ſhall ſuch wonders to thy liſt'ning ear,—
The web which fate has wove—beware, my friend—
Tigranes comes—what would'ſt thou Sir?
Enter TIGRANES.
TIGRANES.
The king
Grants you one parley more—ev'n now this way
He bends his ſteps—remote from all he means
To hold a private conf'rence—
RHADAMISTUS.
Rome's ambaſſador
Attends his pleaſure.—
Exit Tigranes.
TERIBAZUS.
[49]I muſt hence, Flamminius—
Farewell!—yet er'e thou goe'ſt,—I ſtill muſt crave
Another interview—farewell!—remember,
My love, my life, my all depend on thee.—
Exit.
RHADAMISTUS.
Ah! luckleſs prince!—how loſt in error's maze
Blindly he wanders, and love's ſweet deluſion
Infuſes it's enchantment through his heart!
But when remov'd from Pharaſmanes' pow'r
He learns my prior claim,—his gen'rous friendſhip
Will bound with tranſport at a brother's joys,
And with a warmth of ſympathy partake 'em.
But ha?—my father!—grant me ſtrength, ye pow'rs!
To meet the dread encounter.—
Enter PHARASMANES.
PHARASMANES.
Once again
Er'e you depart, if Pharaſmanes deign
To treat, and thus expoſtulate with Rome,
'Tis to thy pray'rs I grant it.
RHADAMISTUS.
Rome had rather
Perſuade than conquer—her well-ballanc'd juſtice—
PHARASMANES.
No more of Roman juſtice—blazon not
Virtues you ne'er have practis'd—with the name,
The ſpecious name of love for human kind
You ſanctify th' inſatiate rage of conqueſt,
And where the ſword has made a ſolitude,
That you proclaim a peace.—Ev'n now your views
Stand manifeſt to ſight—To thee 'tis known
That Rhadamiſtus lives!—
RHADAMISTUS.
How Sir!—can he—
Does that unhappy Prince—
PHARASMANES.
[50]Thou falſe diſſembler!—
Yes in thy heart the fatal ſecrets lodg'd!—
RHADAMISTUS.
Sir if your ſon—if you will ſearch his heart—
PHARASMANES.
From certain fugitives I've learn'd it all—
In yonder camp, conceal'd from vulgar eyes,
To war againſt his father ſtill he lives!—
Why doſt thou droop dejected?—ſomething lurks
Beneath that burning bluſh—
RHADAMISTUS.
That burning bluſh
Glows on my cheek for thee—I know your ſon,
And know him unſuſceptible of guilt.
PHARASMANES.
Then, Roman, mark my words—would'ſt thou prevent
The carnage fate prepares on yonder plains?—
Go tell Paulinus I will treat of term
With him, who brings me Rhadamiſtus' head.
RHADAMISTUS.
Your o [...] ſon's head!—
PHARASMANES.
Why doſt thou gaze ſo earneſt?
Why thoſe emotions ſtruggling for a vent?
RHADAMISTUS.
Amazement checks my voice, and loſt in wonder
I view the unnatural father, who would bathe
His hands in blood,—in a ſon's blood—a ſon
Who pants,—with ardour pants,—on terms of peace
To ſheathe the ſword, and with a filial hand
To throw a veil over a father's crimes.
PHARASMANES.
[51]By heav'n tis falſe—has he not dar'd to league
With my determin'd foes?—ev'n to the ſenate,
To ev'ry region, where his voice could pierce,
Has he not fled with the deluſive ſtory?
With grief and loud complaints inflam'd the world?
And even now, does not the ſtripling come
To the Araxe's banks with Rome in arms?
RHADAMISTUS.
Tho' urg'd by dire conſtraint, yet heav'n can witneſs
His ſtrong reluctance.—
PHARASMANES.
Let the rebel know
He never ſhall aſcend Armenia's throne.
RHADAMISTUS.
And ſhall deſtruction with her horrid train
Stalk o'er the land?—
PHARASMANES.
Yes—let deſtruction looſe—
'Tis Pharaſmanes' glory—
RHADAMISTUS.
Can the rage,
And the wild tumult of deſtructive havoc
Adminiſter delight?—alas!—the day
That deluges the land with human blood,
Is that a day of glory?—
I, Sir, have travers'd o'er the field of death,
Where war had ſpent its rage—hadſt thou beheld
That ſcene of horror,—where unnumber'd wretches.
In mangled heaps lay welt'ring in their gore;
Where the fond father in the gaſp of death
Wept for his children,—where the lover ſigh'd
For her, whom never more his eyes could view;
Where various miſery ſent forth it's groans;—
Had'ſt thou beheld that ſcene,—the touch of nature
Had ſtirr'd within thee, and the virtuous drop
Of pity guſh'd unbidden from thy eye.—
PHARASMANES.
[52]Enervate ſlave!—here ends all further parley—
Go tell your gen'ral, tell your Roman chiefs,
The father claims his ſon.—Have we not heard
How your own Brutus to the lictor's ſword
Condemn'd his children?—and would Rome diſpute
A king's paternal pow'r?—let 'em yield up
The treach'rous boy, or terrible in arms
Shall Pharaſmanes overwhelm their legions,
Mow down their cohorts, and their mangled limbs
Give to the vultur's beak.
RHADAMISTUS.
And yet reflect—
PHARASMANES.
Roman no more,—
RHADAMISTUS.
Unwilling I withdraw;—
A father's ſtern reſolve the ſon ſhall mourn,
And with a pang of nature ſhall behold
The Roman eagle dart like thunder on thee.
Exit.
PHARASMANES, alone.
Away, and leave me ſlave!—to-morrow's ſun
Shall ſee my great revenge—mean time I give
The gentle hours to love and Ariana.—
What ho! Tigranes!
Enter TIGRANES.
PHARASMANES.
Does the ſtubborn fair
Yield to my ardent vows?
TIGRANES.
She mocks your paſſion,
And gives to Teribazus all her ſmiles.
PHARASMANES.
By heav'n! ev'n love itſelf ſhall be my ſlave!—
[53] —Yet love like mine requires her ſoft conſent,
And will not riot o'er her plunder'd charms.—
—Quick, bring her father to me—
TIGRANES.
By your orders
At hand Megiſtus waits your ſov'reign will.
Exit.
PHARASMANES.
Bring him before us—wiſe and prudent age
Will plead my cauſe, and ſecond my deſires.
Enter MEGISTUS.
MEGISTUS.
Dread Sir—a blameleſs,—a diſtreſs'd old man,
Of guilt unconſcious—
PHARASMANES.
Whatſoe'er thy guilt
A ſmile from Ariana expiates all.
MEGISTUS.
Believe me, Sir, I never have offended—
She was my ſole delight; my ages comfort;—
For her I felt more than a parent's love—
But 'midſt the troubles that diſtract the land
I loſt her—in deſpair—with yearning heart
I rang'd the country round in fond purſuit—
This is my crime—ſure 'tis no crime to love
Such blooming innocence!—
PHARASMANES.
Diſpel thy fears—
Thy love for Ariana ſpeaks thy virtue—
That graceful form, that ſymmetry of ſhape,
That bloom, thoſe features, thoſe love-darting eyes,
All, all attract, that there each fond admirer
Could ever gaze, enamour'd of her charms.
MEGISTUS.
Alas! whate'er the ſymmetry of ſhape,
[54] Whate'er the grace that reveals in her feature,
Glows in her bloom, or ſparkles in her eye,
They all are tranſient beauties, ſoon to fade,
And leave inanimate that decent form.
Inward affliction ſaps the vital frame,
Incurable affliction!—fix'd in woe
Her eyes for ever motionleſs and dim
Gaze on the fancied image of her huſband.
PHARASMANES.
Her huſband!
MEGISTUS.
Yes; a huſband ſever'd from her
By fatal chance!—him ſhe for ever ſees
With fancy's guſhing eye, and ſeeks him ſtill
In fond excurſions of deluſive thought.
She pines each hour, and ev'n in blooming dies,
As drooping roſes,—while the worm unſeen
Preys on their fragrant ſweets, ſtill beauteous look,
And waſte their aromatic lives in air.
PHARASMANES.
The roſe tranſplanted to a warmer ſky
Shall raiſe it's languid head, and all be well.
MEGISTUS.
Her huſband ſtill ſurvives, and far remote
He wanders in Armenia's realm—
PHARASMANES.
No more
To call her his!—by all my promis'd joys
His doom is fix'd!—do thou ſtreight ſeek thy daughter,
My lovelieſt Ariana—in her ear
Breathe the mild accents of a father's voice,
And reconcile her heart to love and me.
MEGISTUS.
Your pardon Sir—it were not fit my voice
Should teach her to betray her holy vows.
PHARASMANES.
[55]When Pharaſmanes ſpeaks—
MEGISTUS.
My life is his,—
And when he wills it, 'tis devoted to him—
But, Sir, tho' poor,—my honour ſtill is mine,
'Tis all that heav'n has giv'n me,—and that gift
The gods expect I never ſhould reſign.
PHARASMANES.
And do'ſt thou heſitate?—what, when a crown
Invites thy daughter to imperial ſplendor?
MEGISTUS.
Oh! not for me ſuch ſplendor!—I have liv'd
My humble days in virtuous poverty.
To tend my flock, to watch each riſing flow'r,
Each herb, each plant that drinks the morning dew,
And lift my praiſe to the juſt gods on high!—
Theſe were my habits, theſe my only cares;—
—Theſe hands ſuffic'd to anſwer my deſires,
And having naught,—yet naught was wanting to me.
PHARASMANES.
Away, thou ſlave!—I would not quite deſpiſe thee—
Or yield your daughter, or my ſwifteſt vengeance
Falls on thy hoary head—a monarch's love
Shall ſeize her trembling to his eager arms,
Then ſpurn her back a prey to wan deſpair,
Till bitter anguiſh blaſt each wither'd charm,
And rave in vain for love and empire ſcorn'd!—
Exit.
MEGISTUS, alone.
Fell monſter go!—inexorable tyrant!—
Perhaps I ſhould have ſooth'd his lion rage
With feign'd compliance—ha!—why ſudden thus—
Enter ZENOBIA.
ZENOBIA.
Th' important hour, Megiſtus, now approaches—
[56] Lo! the laſt bluſhes of departing day
But feebly ſtreak yon dim horizon's verge.
My Rhadamiſtus comes to guide my ſteps—
Thro' devious paths ſeek thou Zopiron's tent—
Thus we ſhall lull ſuſpicion—
MEGISTUS.
I obey;—
May guardian angels ſpread their wings around thee!—
Exit.
ZENOBIA, alone.
Yes, the bleſs'd gods, who thro' the maze of fate
Have led us once again to meet in life,
Will prove the friends of virtue to the laſt.
—Ha!—Teribazus comes!—
ZENOBIA, TERIBAZUS.
TERIBAZUS.
And is it giv'n
Once more to ſee thee here?—do'ſt thou avoid me?
Do'ſt thou deſpiſe me in this tender moment
When my ſoul bleeds with anguiſh at the thought
Of parting with thee?—Ariana!—
ZENOBIA.
Oh!—
Unhappy prince!—oh! fly me; ſhun me; death
And ruin follow—one ſhort moment's ſtay
Will rouze your father's rage—
TERIBAZUS.
My father's rage
Already has undone me—ah! in tears!—
—And do they fall for me?—does that ſoft ſigh
Heave for the loſt, afflicted Teribazus?—
ZENOBIA.
Yes the tear falls, and the ſigh heaves for thee—
Thy elegance of mind—the various graces
That bloom around thee, and adorn the hero,—
Nay, other ties there are which ſtrongly plead,
[57] And bid me tremble for thee.
—And yet,—ſad recompenſe for all thy friendſhip,
To warn thee hence,—to bid thee ſhun my ways,
Is all the gratitude I now can offer.—
TERIBAZUS.
Thus muſt we part?—
ZENOBIA.
A rival is at hand,—
Here in the camp,—an unexpected rival,—
Sent by the gods,—the idol of my ſoul!
TERIBAZUS.
What ſay'ſt thou, Ariana?—has another
Uſurp'd thy heart?—unkind, relentleſs maid!—
Since firſt thy beauty dawn'd upon my ſight,
How have I lov'd,—repented,—yet lov'd on!—
Ev'n againſt you,—againſt myſelf I ſtruggled—
Preſent I fled you—abſent I ador'd—
I fled for refuge to the foreſt's gloom,—
But in the foreſt's gloom thy image met me!—
The ſhades of night, the luſtre of the day,
All, all retrac'd my Ariana's form.—
Thy form purſued me in the battle's rage,
'Midſt ſhouts, and all the clangor of the war.
—It ſtole me from myſelf!—my lonely tent
Re-ecchoes with my groans, and in the ranks
The wond'ring ſoldier hears my voice no more,
ZENOBIA.
Yet leave me Teribazus—gen'rous youth!
Remembrance oft ſhall dwell upon thy praiſe,
But for my love 'tis all another's claim.
TERIBAZUS.
Another's claim!—why wilt thou torture thus
A fond deſpairing wretch?—oh! not for me
Thoſe ſorrows fall—they are another's tears;
—Another claims them from me—name this rival
That my ſwift fury—tell me has Flamminius,
Has the baſe Roman broke his promis'd faith?
Will not the barb'rous man afford you ſhelter?
ZENOBIA.
[58]Why wilt thou force me ſpeak?—the fate of all,
Thine Teribazus,—mine,—the fate of one,
Whom, were he known,—thy heart holds ever dear,
Is now concern'd—Flamminius claims my love—
Long ſince he won my heart—
TERIBAZUS.
Vindictive gods!
Flamminius claims thy love!—not Caeſar's ſelf
Shall dare to wreſt thee from me—Ariana!—
Thus on my knees,—would I could periſh here—
That ev'n in death I ſtill might gaze upon thee,
Till the laſt pang divide thee from my heart.
Enter RHADAMISTUS.
RHADAMISTUS.
It was the voice of anguiſh and deſpair!
Why thus illuſtrious prince—
TERIBAZUS.
(Starting up)
Thou treach'rous Roman!—Who com'ſt to violate each ſacred tie,
The laws of honour, and the laws of love!
Who com'ſt beneath the maſk of public faith
To do a robber's work!—
RHADAMISTUS.
When to your camp
I bring a heart that longs to ſerve you, prince,
Why this intemp'rate rage?—
TERIBAZUS.
To do the work
Of perfidy and fraud!—but firſt by rapine,
By violated maids your city grew;—
And do you come to emulate your ſires?
Unwilling to degenerate in vice.—
RHADAMISTUS.
Miſtaken youth!—oh! if you did but know me!
If you but knew the juſtice Rome intends—
TERIBAZUS.
[59]Juſtice and Rome!—and doſt thou dare to join
Two names ſo oppoſite?—have we not heard
Of frugal conſuls, and of ſtoic chiefs,
Who ſoon forgetting here their ſabine farms,
Made war a trade, and then return'd to Rome
Rich with the plunder of the rifled eaſt?
Again ſome new Lucullus leads them on,
Fir'd with the love of rapine.—
RHADAMISTUS.
Fir'd with zeal
To break a nation's chains—would'ſt thou but hear me—
—It is a friend implores—
ZENOBIA.
A gen'rous friend!—
Then liſten to him—let theſe ſtreaming eyes,
Theſe earneſt pray'rs—this ſupplicating form—
TERIBAZUS.
Leagu'd with my foe behold her!—mighty gods!—
Have I deſerv'd it of her?—
RHADAMISTUS.
Yet be calm—
Yet liſten to me—Oh! I could unfold—
Yet ſtay—I'll prove myſelf a brother to thee.
TERIBAZUS.
Roman expect me in the battle's front—
Inſtant depart,—but leave thy prey behind;—
Dare not,—I charge thee dare not, tempt her hence—
To-morrow's ſun ſhall ſee me cloath'd in terror
Purſue thy ſteps thro' all the ranks of war,
Till my ſpear fix thee quiv'ring to the ground.
Exit.
RHADAMISTUS, ZENOBIA.
ZENOBIA.
Yet, Rhadamiſtus, call him—let him know—
RHADAMISTUS.
[60]Thou lovely trembler!—baniſh ev'ry fear—
The time now bids us hence—and lo! the moon
Streams her mild radiance on the ruſtling grove.
—I will conduct thee—ha! Zopiron—
Enter ZOPIRON.
RHADAMISTUS.
Come
Thou beſt of men, let me once more embrace thee.—
ZOPIRON.
Oh! ſpeed thee hence—each moment's big with death—
RHADAMISTUS.
Farewel! farewel! when I've eſcap'd your camp
Seek thou my brother; ſoothe his troubled ſpirit,
Explain theſe wonders;—tell him Rhadamiſtus
Eſteems and loves, and honours all his virtues.—
Farewel Zopiron!—in Armenia's court
Thy king ſhall thank thy goodneſs—my Zenobia,
Oh! let me guide thee from this place of danger
To life, to love, to liberty and joy.
Exit with Zenobia.
ZOPIRON.
Lo! the heav'ns ſmile with gentleſt aſpect on them!—
This calm ſerene that ev'ry planet ſheds
To light their ſteps,—this glad aetherial mildneſs
Is ſure the token of incircling gods
That hover anxious o'er the ſolemn ſcene!—
Enter PHARASMANES, TIGRANES following.
PHARASMANES.
Let Teribazus ſtreight attend our preſence—
TIGRANES.
But now with glaring eye and fierce demeanour
He enter'd yonder tent—
PHARASMANES.
[61]Bid him approach us.—
Then do thou round the midnight watch, and ſee
That Rome's ambaſſador has left my camp.
Exit Tigranes.
This war, Zopiron, ſhall be ſoon extinguiſh'd
In Roman blood, and yield Armenia to me.
ZOPIRON.
Armenia, Sir, ſtill obſtinately mourns
Loſt Mithridates, father of his people.
Her hardy ſons with one conſenting voice
Demand a king from Rome;—all leagu'd and ſworn
Never to crouch beneath the conqu'ror's yoke.
PHARASMANES.
But when the Roman eagle bites the ground,
They'll ſhrink aghaſt, and own my ſov'reign ſway.
Enter TERIBAZUS.
PHARASMANES.
Thou baſe confed'rate with thy father's foes!
TERIBAZUS.
The accuſation, Sir,—if proof ſupport it,
Gives you my forfeit life, and I reſign it,
Freely reſign—if deſtitute of proof,
It is a ſtab to honour,—and the charge
Should not be lightly urg'd.—
PHARASMANES.
This arrogance
That dictates to a father—
TERIBAZUS.
'Tis the ſpirit
Of injur'd innocence—if Pharaſmanes
Suſpect my truth,—ſend me where danger calls;—
Bid me this moment carry death and ſlaughter
To rage in yonder camp;—yes, then your ſon
Shall mark his hatred of the Roman name.
PHARASMANES.
[62]Haſt thou not dar'd to thwart my tend'reſt paſſion,
And to ſeduce my Ariana's love?
TERIBAZUS.
And if this youthful heart, too prone to melt
At beauty's ray, receiv'd the gentle flame,
'Tis paſt—the charm is o'er—no longer now
I walk a captive in her haughty triumph!—
In vain ſhe now may call forth all her graces,
Inſtruct her eyes to roll with bidden fires,
And practice all the wonders of her face.
Ambition calls, and lights a nobler flame.
Enter TIGRANES.
TIGRANES.
Th' ambaſſador of Rome, and that old traitor
The falſe Megiſtus—
PHARASMANES.
Speak; unfold thy purpoſe.—
TIGRANES.
Together left the camp, and in their train
Bear Ariana with them—
TERIBAZUS.
Ariana!—
Have the ſlaves dar'd—deteſted treachery!
Now, now, my father, now approve my zeal.
PHARASMANES.
Haſte, fly, purſue her; bring the trait'reſs back!—
TERIBAZUS.
My rapid vengeance ſhall o'ertake their flight;
And bring the Roman plund'rer bound in chains.
Exit.
PHARASMANES.
Do thou, Tigranes, with a choſen band
[63] Circle yon hills, and intercept their march.
And thou, Zopiron, ſend my ſwifteſt horſe
To range the wood, and ſweep along the vale.
Exit Tigranes.
ZOPIRON.
Ye guardian deities, now lend your aid.
Exit.
PHARASMANES, alone.
Has the perfidious,—yet ador'd deceiver,
Thus has ſhe left me?—from a monarch's ſmile
Fled with a lawleſs ravager from Rome?—
Oh! give me vengeance; give Flamminius to me,
That he may die in agony unheard of.—
The trait'reſs then,—ſpite of each winning art,—
Spite of her guilt—ſhe triumphs in my heart.
END OF THE FOURTH ACT.
ACT the FIFTH.
[64]PHARASMANES.
NOT yet return'd!—I'm tortur'd on the rack—
By heav'n to-morrow's dawn—diſtracting thought!
E're that the Roman ravager enjoys
Her heav'n of bliſs, and riots in delight.
My ſoul's on fire—this night I'll ſtorm his camp
And daſh his promis'd joys;—let looſe my rage,
A flouriſh of trumpets.
And bury all in ruin—ha!—what means
This new alarm?—
Enter TERIBAZUS, Soldiers, &c.
TERIBAZUS.
The treach'rous ſlave is taken!—
My ſpeed outſtripp'd him, and this arm that ſeiz'd
Hath well ſecur'd the traitor—
PHARASMANES.
Great revenge,
The meaſure of thy joys is full!—
TERIBAZUS.
At firſt
They made a feeble ſtand;—but hemm'd around
And cloſe incirclcd by the ſons of Aſia
They ſaw death threat'ning at each javelin's point.
I ruſh'd upon Flamminius—much he courted
A ſecret parley, but my ſoul diſdain'd
All further conf'rence—he and his complotter
The baſe Megiſtus, with the fair deſerter
Remeaſure back their ſteps, and clank their chains
In bitterneſs of heart.—
PHARASMANES.
A father's thanks,
Shall well requite thee—lo! the traitors come—
[65] Enter RHADAMISTUS, ZENOBIA, MEGISTUS, in Chains,
PHARASMANES.
Thou baſe perfidious!—thou Italian plunderer!
RHADAMISTUS.
I do not mean to wage a war of words.—
Repent thee of this inſult, of theſe chains
On him, who repreſents a people here.
PHARASMANES.
A non thou'lt ſee how I reſpect that people.
My juſt revenge ſhall tell thee;—on thy head,
And thine, Megiſtus, ſudden vengeance falls.
MEGISTUS.
Alas! worn out with age and miſery
I long to lay me in the ſhroud of death.
PHARASMANES.
I grant thy wiſh—what words, fair fugitive,
Can colour thy deceit?—
ZENOBIA.
The heart reſolv'd
Wants no excuſe, no colouring of words—
I found my huſband,—flew to his embrace;—
This,—this is he!—the lord of my deſires—
With him content I'll traverſe o'er the world.—
PHARASMANES.
Do'ſt thou avow it too?—
ZENOBIA.
Do I avow it?—
Yes, I exult, I glory in it—Think'ſt thou
I'll prove ſo meanly falſe to honour's cauſe
As to apologize for being faithful?—
TERIBAZUS.
I ſee Flamminius has already ſchool'd her
In Roman maxims—
RHADAMISTUS.
[66]Miſerable prince!
I will not anſwer thee—too ſoon thy heart
For this laſt feat will bitterly reproach thee!—
TERIBAZUS.
Away with thy deluſive arts—if ever
I form alliance with haughty people,
Thoſe ravagers of earth,—if e'er again
I hold communion with thee,—may the gods—
May Pharaſmanes,—but it cannot be—
My heart high beating in my country's cauſe,
Vows an eternal enmity with Rome.
Exit.
RHADAMISTUS.
Thee, Pharaſmanes, thee my voice addreſſes—
Thou know'ſt my title to her—Hymen's rites
Long ſince united both—Then looſe theſe chains;—
'Tis in the name of Rome I aſk it—
PHARASMANES.
Slave!—
Thy title, by the rights of war, is now extinguiſh'd.—
Captivity diſſolves her former ties,
And now the laws of arms have made her mine.
ZENOBIA.
And are there laws to change the human heart?
To alter the affections of the ſoul?
Know that my heart is rul'd by other laws,
The laws of truth, of honour, and of love.
This is my huſband! ſource of all my comfort!
With him I'll live—with him will dare to die!—
PHARASMANES.
By heav'n ſome myſtery—thou treach'rous fair!
Mark well my word;—unfold thy birth and rank—
My mind uncertain wanders in conjecture—
Who and what ar't thou?—Vain is ev'ry gueſs—
Reſolve my doubts, or elſe the Roman's doom
Shall be determin'd ſtreight—
ZENOBIA.
[67]And my reſolve,
Tyrant, is fix'd to ſhare my huſband's fate.
That I unfold—that ſentiment reveal—
To heav'n and earth reveal it—for the reſt
Gueſs if you can,—determine if you dare.
PHARASMANES.
Quick, drag Flamminius hence.—
RHADAMISTUS.
Slaves, hold your hands—
My character protects me here—
PHARASMANES.
Diſpatch,
Inſtant diſpatch, and ſeize Megiſtus too—
Megiſtus is led off.
ZENOBIA.
Horror!—call back the word—it ſhall not be—
Here will I hold him—barb'rous ruffians hold—
Murder!—my life! my lord! my huſband! oh!—
Rhadamiſtus is dragg'd off.
PHARASMANES.
Give him the torture; let your keeneſt pangs
Extort each ſecret from him—
ZENOBIA.
Pharaſmanes!
Thus lowly humbled, proſtrate in the duſt,
Waſhing your feet with tears—have mercy!—this
Will be the blackeſt, worſt of all your murders—
PHARASMANES.
There's but one way to mitigate his doom—
ZENOBIA.
Give me to know it—ſpare him—ſpare his life—
PHARASMANES.
[68]Abjure the ſlave, and by conubial vows
This inſtant make thee partner of my throne.
ZENOBIA.
My faith, my love, my very life is his—
My child is his—oh! think thou ſee'ſt my infant
Lifting his little hands—
PHARASMANES.
I'll hear no more—
Or yield this moment, or the traitor dies.
Exit Pharaſmanes.
ZENOBIA, alone.
Inhuman Tyrant!—madneſs ſeize my brain—
Swallow me earth—here ſhall theſe deſp'rate hands
Strike on thy flinty boſom,—here my voice
Pierce to thy center,—till with pity touch'd
Your cavern's open wide to hide a wretch
From hated men,—from, miſery like this.—
Enter TERIBAZUS.
Afflicted mourner, raiſe thee from the earth.
ZENOBIA.
What voice is that—I know thee well—thou ar't
That fiend accurſt, the murd'rous Teribazus!—
Yes thou art welcome!
(riſing)
thou delight'ſt in blood—I am your willing victim—plunge your ſword
Deep in my heart—I'll thank thee for the ſtroke,
Since thou haſt murder'd all my ſoul held dear.
TERIBAZUS.
Aſſuage this ſtorm of grief, nor blame a lover
That dotes like me—could I behold that form
Snatch'd from my arms?—
ZENOBIA.
You know not what you've done—
Your blameleſs brother—
TERIBAZUS.
[69]How!
ZENOBIA.
You've murder'd him—
Your brother Rhadamiſtus—
TERIBAZUS.
Rhadamiſtus!—
ZENOBIA.
By thee he dies—that is your ſplendid deed—
TERIBAZUS.
What ſay'ſt thou?—he my brother—urge me not
To inſtant madneſs—is he—tell me—ſay—
Ar't thou Zenobia?—
ZENOBIA.
Yes, that fatal wretch!—
TERIBAZUS.
If this be ſo—what had I done, ye pow'rs!
To merit this extremity of woe
—Why did'ſt thou hide the awful ſecret from me?—
ZENOBIA.
Could I betray him—could I truſt your father,
Whoſe fell ambition, whoſe relentleſs rage,
Has fix'd a price on our devoted heads?
TERIBAZUS.
Then ſhall this hated being—no!—I'll live
To ſave a brother ſtill—he ſhall not die—
Oh! let me ſeek him,—throw me at his feet,
Implore forgiveneſs, and protract his days.
Exit Teribazus.
ZENOBIA.
It is in vain—he's loſt—we both muſt periſh—
And then my child—who then ſhall guard his youth?
[70] No more theſe eyes ſhall ſee him—my ſweet boy
Will break his heart, and unregarded die.—
Enter ZOPIRON.
ZOPIRON.
All's loſt! all ruin'd!—to the cave of death
Ev'n now the guards lead Rhadamiſtus forth.
ZENOBIA.
Thou ſee'ſt the ſad reverſe!—immortal ſpirits,—
Ye winged virtues,—that with pitying eye
Watch the afflicted,—will ye not inſpire
In this ſad hour,—one great, one glorious thought,
Above the vulgar flight of common ſouls,
To ſave at once my huſband and my child?
—The inſpiration comes!—the bright idea
Expands my heart, and charms my glowing ſoul.
ZOPIRON.
My gracious queen, let not a blind deſpair—
ZENOBIA.
Talk not, Zopiron, when the god inſpires!
The god! the god!—my heart receives him all
—My lord, my Rhadamiſtus ſtill ſhall live.
Exit.
ZOPIRON.
Yet, I conjure thee, hear thy faithful ſlave.—
follows her out.
Enter RHADAMISTUS, and Guards.
RHADAMISTUS.
Say, whither do you had me?—does your tyrant
Repent his horrid outrage?
Enter TERIBAZUS.
Guards withdraw
To a remoter ground—
Exeunt Soldiers.
[71] RHADAMISTUS, TERIBAZUS.
RHADAMISTUS.
Miſtaken prince!
My heart bleeds for thee—
TERIBAZUS.
Oh! too well I know
The depth of guilt in which the fates have plung'd me
—I cannot look upon thee—
RHADAMISTUS.
Oh! my brother,
Thus let me, ev'n in ruin, thus embrace thee.—
TERIBAZUS.
Do'ſt thou forgive me?—could I e'er have thought
To ſee thee here? my raſhneſs has undone thee!—
RHADAMISTUS.
No, thou art innocent—the guilt is mine,
The guilt of mean, ungenerous policy
Of ſelfiſh wiſdom, diſingenuous art
That from a friend kept back the fatal ſecret,
When with the ardour of unbounded confidence,
I ſhould have ruſh'd with tranſport to thy arms,
Unboſom'd all, and wrapt thee in my heart.
TERIBAZUS.
Alas! I've heap'd theſe horrors on your head—
I've ſeal'd thy doom—that is a brother's gift—
The firſt eſſay of Teribazus' friendſhip!—
But I am doom'd to be a wretch abhorr'd,
Of men and gods abhorr'd!—doom'd like my father
To drench theſe murd'rous hands in brother's blood!—
RHADAMISTUS.
Imbitter not the pangs that rive my ſoul—
Where is Zenobia?—unrelenting pow'rs!
Was it for this your perſecuting wrath
Gave me to meet her, gave that angel-ſweetneſs
To theſe delighted eyes, theſe eager arms?
TERIBAZUS.
[72]I'll give you freedom ſtill—by heav'n I will—
RHADAMISTUS.
Was ſhe but giv'n me to afflict her more?
To wake in that dear breaſt a gleam of joy,
A mockery of joy,—joy ſcarce, ye pow'rs!
Divided by the moment of delight
From black deſpair, from agony and death?
TERIBAZUS.
I will protect her,—will reſtore her to thee,
Or do a deed ſhall ſtrike mankind with horror!
Not ev'n a father ſhall retard my ſword—
In his own blood I'll drench it—
RHADAMISTUS.
Ha!—
TERIBAZUS.
This hand,
E're thou ſhalt fall a victim to his fury,
Shall to the heart,—th' inhuman heart of him—
Who dares—
RHADAMISTUS.
No more of that—can I conſent,
That a brave gen'rous youth, a much lov'd brother,
For ev'ry virtue fam'd,—ſhall thus debaſe
By an atrocious deed his fair renown,
And perpetrate a dark inſidious work?
—Oh! I ſhould well deſerve the worſt of ills
—I then ſhould juſtify a father's Cruelty!—
TERIBAZUS.
He has undone thee—has undone as all—
But yet thou ſhalt not die—by heav'n I ſwear—
Yes, take me, horror! pour into my heart
Thy blackeſt purpoſe—nerve my lifted arm
To daſh him headlong from his glitt'ring throne
A terrible example to the world.
RHADAMISTUS.
[73]Beware, beware, my brother—yet reflect—
You would ſtrike vice with terror—tell me then,
Would not the act of raſh impetuous zeal,
Would not th' example arm the ruffian's hand?
Thy virtue thus inflames thy gen'rous ardor—
But oh! my brother, let it not be ſaid
That virtue ever held the murd'rer's knife!
TERIBAZUS.
Gods! have I ruin'd ſuch unheard of goodneſs?—
Swift I'll diſpatch a meſſage to Paulinus,
And call his legions to aſſault the camp—
Enter TIGRANES, and Guards.
TIGRANES.
Guards, ſeize your pris'ner—in a dungeon's gloom
Plunge him ſequeſter'd from the light of heav'n.
'Tis Pharaſmanes' will—
TERIBAZUS.
Thou medling fiend!
I will attend his ſteps; will ſtill protect him
From men like thee—
RHADAMISTUS.
Should Pharaſmanes dare
To violate the rights of public law,
Rome is at hand, and will have ample vengeance.
Exit with Teribazus.
TIGRANES.
My thirſt of vengeance ſhall be ſated firſt.—
Yes, guard him, prince; it makes thy ruin ſure!
Thy Ariana too, while fats is buſy,
Shall meet her doom, and leave my road to glory
All ſmooth and level to ambition's wiſh.
Enter ZOPIRON.
ZOPIRON.
'Gainſt Rome's ambaſſador the king, Tigranes,
[74] Suſpends his ſentence till his further orders.
The queen commands it too.
TIGRANES.
The queen!—what queen?
ZOPIRON.
The beauteous Ariana; now your ſovereign.
TIGRANES.
Has ſhe relented?—is ſhe married to him?
ZOPIRON.
She is—the ſcene with various paſſions burn'd!—
Her treſſes all unbound, with faded charms,
Yet lovely ev'n in ſorrow, thro' the ranks
Eager ſhe flew, with ſhrieks, with outſtretch'd arms,
Invoking ev'ry god!—the wond'ring ſoldier
With ſoften'd ſinews, dropt the ſword to earth
And gaz'd with mix'd emotions as ſhe paſs'd.
Prone to the ground at Pharaſmanes' feet
She fell—he rais'd her ſoon, and ſmil'd conſent—
To the king's tent ſhe preſs'd with eager ſpeed—
Th' exulting monarch call'd his prieſts around him,
And ſoon with ſolemn march and feſtive ſong
In his pavillion ſought the blooming bride.
TIGRANES.
This ſudden change, Zopiron, this raſh haſte,
I like it not—
ZOPIRON.
Nor I Tigranes: doubt,
Suſpicion, fear, and wonder, and miſtruſt,
Riſe in each anxious thought—
TIGRANES.
But did'ſt thou ſee
The ceremony clos'd?—
ZOPIRON.
I did:—at firſt
All pale and trembling Ariana ſtood.
[75] Then more collected, with undaunted ſtep
She to the altar bore the nuptial cup.
There reverent bow'd, and "hear ye gods," ſhe ſaid,
"Hear and record the purpoſe of my ſoul."
With trembling lips then kiſs'd the ſacred vaſe,
And as our country's ſolemn rites require,
Drank of the hallow'd liquor.—From her hand
The king receiv'd it, and with eager joy,
As to his ſoul he took the hectar'd draught,
With ſtedfaſt eye ſhe view'd him, whilſt a ſmile
Of ſickly joy gleam'd faintly o'er her viſage.
TIGRANES.
Well, ſhe's our queen—the diadem is hers—
ZOPIRON.
How long to wear it, heav'n alone can tell.—
The back ſcene draws, and diſcovers the king's pavillion, with an altar, and fire blazing on it; ſoft muſick is play'd, and they come forward.
PHARASMANES and ZENOBIA.
PHARASMANES.
At length my Ariana's ſoft compliance
Endears the preſent bliſs, and gives an earneſt
Of joy to brighten a long train of years.
ZENOBIA.
Alas! fond man expatiates oft in fancy,
Unconſcious of the fates, and oft in thought
Anticipates a bliſs he ne'er enjoys.
PHARASMANES.
Away with gloomy care; for thou ar't mine,
Thou, Ariana!—all our future days
Shall ſmile with gay, with ever-young deſire,
And not a cloud o'ercaſt the bright ſerene.
ZENOBIA.
And does thy penetrating eye pervade
What time has yet in ſtore?
PHARASMANES.
[76]Why doſt thou aſk?
ZENOBIA.
I have been us'd to grief—releaſe the Roman,
And give him hence ſafe conduct to his friends;—
I then ſhall be at peace.—
PHARASMANES.
Beware, beware!
Nor rouze again the pangs, that fire a ſoul,
Which fiercely doats like mine.
ZENOBIA.
Diſmiſs him hence;
Give him his life—it was your marriage vow
He ſhould not ſuffer—let me ſee him firſt;—
Grant me one interview,—one little hour;
In that poor ſpace I can crowd all that's left me
Of love, and tenderneſs, and fond concern,
Before we part for ever—
PHARASMANES.
Fond concern!
And love, and tenderneſs!—and ſhall the Roman
Uſurp a monarch's due?—that look betrays
The ſecret workings of a heart eſtrang'd!
And ſhall the man, who dares diſpute my love,
Shall the ſlave breathe a moment?—haſte, Tigranes,
And ſee immediate execution on him.
Exit Tigranes.
ZENOBIA.
Oh! ſtay Tigranes—barb'rous man, recall
The horrid mandate—
PHARASMANES.
By immortal love,
I ſee the ſlave ſtill triumphs in your heart.
ZENOBIA.
Oh! ſpare him, ſpare him—by the vital air,
By your own promis'd faith—
Kneels to him.
PHARASMANES.
[77]Since lov'd by thee
His doom is doubly ſeal'd.—
ZENOBIA.
You ſhall not fly me—
Now tear me, drag me groveling in the duſt,
Tear off theſe hands—tear, tear me peice-meal firſt—
PHARASMANES.
Nay, then ſince force muſt do it—
Shakes her off.
ZENOBIA.
Barb'rous tyrant!
She lies ſtretch'd on the ground.
PHARASMANES.
I go to ſee the minion of your heart
Expire in pangs before me—ha!—what means
This more than winter's froſt that chills my veins?—
ZENOBIA.
(Looking up)
That groan revives, and calls me back to life!—PHARASMANES.
I cannot move—each vital function's loſt—
The purple current of my blood is ſtopt—
I freeze—I burn—oh! 'tis the ſtroke of death—
Falls on the ground.
ZENOBIA.
(Riſing)
Yes, tyrant, yes; it is the ſtroke of deathAnd I inflict it—I have done it all—
PHARASMANES.
Pernicious trait'reſs! thou!—
ZENOBIA.
My vengeance did it—
Zenobia's vengeance!—'tis Zenobia ſtrikes—
Zenobia executes her juſtice on thee!—
PHARAMANES.
[78]Oh! dire accurſt event!—ar't thou Zenobia?
ZENOBIA.
Yes, thou fell monſter, know me for Zenobia!
Know the ambaſſador is Rhadamiſtus!
Haſte thee, Zopiron, and proclaim him king.
Exit Zopiron.
PHARAMANES.
May curſes light upon thee—oh! I die,
And racks and wheels disjoint me—
ZENOBIA.
Writhe in torment,
In fiercer pangs than my dear father knew.
—But I revenge his death—I daſh'd the cup
With precious poiſon!—
(a flouriſh of trumpets)
ha!—now tyrant wake,And hear thoſe founds—my Rhadamiſtus reigns!—
PHARASMANES.
What and no help!—it is too late—the fates,
The fiends ſurround me more than Aetna's fires
Burn in my veins—yet heav'n—no—'tis in vain—
I cannot riſe—my crimes—my tenfold crimes—
They pull me!—oh!—
Dies.
ZENOBIA.
There fled the guilty ſpirit,
Shade of my father view your daughter now!
Behold her ſtruggling in a righteous cauſe!
Behold her conqu'ring in the tyrant's camp!
Behold your murd'rer levell'd in the duſt!—
A ſecond flouriſh of trumpets.
RHADAMISTUS.
(Within the ſcenes)
Where is Zenobia?—ZENOBIA.
Rhadamiſtus, here!—
[79] Enter RHADAMISTUS, TERIBAZUS, MEGISTUS, ZOPIRON, &c.
RHADAMISTUS.
Oh! let me, let me thus,—thus pour my ſoul,
Thus ſpeak my joy,—thus melt within thy arms.—
ZENOBIA.
My lord! my life, my Rhadamiſtus!—come,
Grow to my heart,—that bounds and ſprings to meet thee.—
RHADAMISTUS.
Once more reviv'd and ſnatch'd again from death
Thus do I ſee thee?—theſe are ſpeechleſs joys,
And tears alone expreſs them—
ZENOBIA.
Have I ſav'd thee?
All-gracious gods! 'tis rapture in th' extreme!—
RHADAMISTUS.
My ſweet deliverer! my all of bliſs!—
ZENOBIA.
Oh! it is joy too exquiſite!—and yet
Grief will imbitter ecſtacy like this!—
There lies your father!
RHADAMISTUS.
All his crimes
Be buried with him!—nature will have way,
And o'er his corſe thus ſheds the filial tear.
TERIBAZUS.
Oh! that my tears could waſh away his ſtains!—
ZENOBIA.
Wilt thou forgive his murderer?—
RHADAMISTUS.
For thee,
Beſet with wrongs, and injur'd as thou wer't,
[80] In ev'ry region fame ſhall clap her wings,
And the recording muſe applaud thy virtue.
ZENOBIA.
If thou forgiv'ſt me, I am bleſs'd indeed!
Now we ſhall part no more—Megiſtus too!—
Thou good old man!—let me embrace thee—ha!
MEGISTUS.
The blood forſakes her cheek—her eyes are fix'd!—
ZENOBIA.
Support me—help me—oh! I die—I die.—
Falls in Megiſtus' arms.
RHADAMISTUS.
She faints—her colour dies—revive Zenobia;—
Revive my love;—thy Rhadamiſtus thus,
Thus calls your flutt'ring ſpirit back to life.
ZENOBIA.
It will not be—the toil of life is o'er—
My Rhadamiſtus—
Sinks down on the ground.
RHADAMISTUS.
Muſt I loſe thee then?—
ZENOBIA.
Oh! the envenom'd cup!—the marriage rites
Requir'd that I ſhould drink it firſt myſelf—
There was no other way—I did it freely
To ſave thy life—to ſave thee for my child.—
RHADAMISTUS.
A'rt thou a victim for a wretch like me?
Is there no antidote to ſtop the courſe
Of this vile poiſon?—
ZENOBIA.
None—it rages now—
It rages thro' my veins—my eyes grow dim—
[81] They're loſt in darkneſs—oh!—I cannot ſee thee—
Where art thou, Rhadamiſtus?—muſt I breathe
Longer in life,—and never ſee thee more!—
And are my eyes forbid one dear farewell?
Oh! cruel ſtars!—muſt they not fix on thee
The laſt expiring glance?—
RHADAMISTUS.
Relentleſs pow'rs!
There lies Zenobia!—round that pallid beauty
Call you a therial hoſt, each winged virtue,
Call ev'ry angel down,—bid 'em behold
That matchleſs excellence, and then refuſe
Soft pity if they can!—
ZENOBIA.
Megiſtus,—ſeek my child,—
And bring him to his father—Rhadamiſtus,
—Wilt thou protect him?—My ſweet orphan-babe
I leave thee too!—oh! train him up in virtue—
Wilt thou be fond of him—a mother's fondneſs
My child ſhould meet—oh! raiſe me, Rhadamiſtus—
Give me thy hand—my little infant—oh!—
Dies.
RHADAMISTUS.
Tears, you do well to ſtop—your wretched drops
Are unavailing at a ſight like this!—
And art thou gone?—ah! thus defac'd and pale,
Thus do I ſee thee?—is that ghaſtly form
All that is left me of thee?—give me daggers,
—Give me ſome inſtant means of death, my friends,
That I may throw this load of life away,
And let our hearts be both inurn'd together.
TERIZABUS.
Live, live my brother, for your infant ſon—
Let him prevail—
RHADAMISTUS.
Inhuman that thou art!
Think you I'll ſlay impriſon'd here in life,
When there—behold her—how ſhe ſmiles in death!—
[82] When there that form—think ye I'll linger here?—
Dead, dead Zenobia!—ſtill I have thee thus—
You ne'er ſhall part us—this at leaſt I'll hold,
And cling for ever to theſe pale, pale charms;
Here breathe my laſt, and faithful ſtill in death,
Love ſhall unite us in one peaceful grave.
MEGISTUS.
Now, old Megiſtus, gods! has liv'd too long!—
TERIBAZUS.
Bring ev'ry aid, all medicinal ſkill
To call a wretched brother back to life,
And give each lenient balm to woes like his.
From thee ambition, what misfortunes flow?
To thee what varied ills weak mortals owe?
'Twas this for years laid deſolate the land,
And arm'd againſt a ſon the father's hand;
To black deſpair poor loſt Zenobia drove;
The hapleſs victim of diſaſtrous love!—
Appendix A EPILOGUE:
[]And Spoken by Mrs. ABINGTON.
(She peeps thro' the Curtain)
HOW do you all, good folks?—In tears for certain,
I'll only take a PEEP BEHIND THE CURTAIN;
You're all ſo full of tragedy, and ſadneſs!
For me to come among ye, would be madneſs:
This is no time for giggling—when you've leiſure,
Call out for me, and I'll attend your pleaſure;
As ſoldiers hurry at the beat of drum,
Beat but your hands, that inſtant I will come.
She enters upon their clapping.
This is ſo good, to call me out ſo ſoon—
The COMIC MUSE by me intreats a BOON;
She call'd for PRITCHARD, her firſt maid of honour,
And begg'd of her to take the taſk upon her;
But ſhe,—I'm ſure you'll all be ſorry for't,
Reſigns her place, and ſoon retires from court:
To bear this loſs, we courtiers make a ſhift,
When good folks leave us, worſe may have a lift.
The COMIC MUSE, whoſe ev'ry ſmile is grace,
And her STAGE SISTER, with her tragic face,
Have had a quarrel—each has writ a CASE.
And on their friends aſſembled now I wait,
To give you of THEIR DIFFERENCE A TRUE STATE.
MELPOMENE, complains when ſhe appears,—
For five good acts, in all her pomp of tears,
To raiſe your ſouls, and with her raptures wing 'em,
Nay wet your handkercheifs, that you may wring 'em.
Some flippant huſſey, like myſelf comes in;
Crack goes her fan, and with a giggling grin,
Hey! PRESTO PASS!—all topſy turvy ſee,
For Ho, HO, HO! is chang'd to HE, HE, HE!
We own the fault, but 'tis a fault in vogue,
'Tis theirs, who call and bawl for—EPILOGUE!
[] Oh! ſhame upon you—for the time to come
Know better—and go miſerable home.
What ſays our COMIC GODDESS?—with reproaches,
She vows her SISTER TRAGEDY encroaches!
And ſpite of all her virtue, and ambition,
Is known to have an am'rous diſpoſition:
For in FALSE DELICACY—wond'rous ſly,
Join'd with a certain IRISHMAN—O fye!
She made you, when you ought to laugh, to cry.—
Her ſiſter's ſmiles with tears ſhe try'd to ſmother,
Rais'd ſuch a tragi-comic kind of pother,
You laugh'd with one eye, while you cry'd with t'other.
What can be done?—ſad work behind the ſcenes!
There comic females ſcold with tragic queens.
Each party different ways the foe aſſails,
Theſe ſhake their daggers, thoſe prepare their nails.
'Tis You alone muſt calm theſe dire miſhaps,
Or we ſhall ſtill continue pulling caps.
What is your will?—I read it in your faces;
That all hereafter take their proper places,
Shake hands, and kiſs and friends, and—BURN THEIR CASES.
FINIS.
Notes
*
Tacitus Ann. Lib. 12. Sect. 44, to end of 5 [...].
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4250 Zenobia a tragedy As it is performed at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane By the author of The orphan of China. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-619C-7