University of Virginia Library

SCENE IX.

Arsaces, Vardanes, Barzaphernes.
Arsaces.
But for Vardanes,
The Brother's name forgot—

Vardanes.
You need no more,
I know the rest—Ah! death is near, my wounds
Permit me not to live—my breath grows short,
Curs'd be Phraates arm which stop'd my sword,
Ere it had reach'd thy proud exulting heart.
But the wretch paid dear for his presuming;
A just reward.—

Arsaces.
He sinks, yet bear him up—

Vardanes.
Curs'd be the multitude which o'erpow'r'd me,
And beat me to the ground, cover'd with wounds—
But, oh! 'tis done! my ebbing life is done—
I feel death's hand upon me—Yet, I die
Just as I wish, and daring for a crown,
Life without rule is my disdain; I scorn
To swell a haughty Brother's sneaking train,
To wait upon his ear with flatt'ring tales,
And court his smiles; come, death, in thy cold arms,
Let me forget Ambition's mighty toil,
And shun the triumphs of a hated Brother—
O! bear me off—Let not his eyes enjoy
My agonies—My sight grows dim with death.

[They bear him off.]