University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Pelopidas, Andravar, Priest, incompass'd with Romans.
Pelop.
Romans , who send your Laws far as the Sun
His Beams, and whom the Universe beholds
With joy, yet dreads your anger as the Gods,
Why move you to the ruine of this Tyrant,
To the sure death of bloody Mithridates,
As if you fear'd, or car'd not he shou'd die?
Can you suspect an Ambush? or that we
Shou'd dare betray you, yielding thus our persons,
Our Lives, our Prince himself into your hands?

Andr.
This man, to whom the servile Priests bow down,
Who wears a Crown in honour of his place,
And sacred worth, abandons all his glories
T' attest the truth of what we have declar'd.
Enter Pharnaces.
But see, the fierce, the brave, the Great Pharnaces
Comes on to meet you; waves his Royalties:
Therefore, O mighty Romans, give him Audience.

Phar.
That I am rough, and of an untaught Spirit,
All the East knows; I ever scorn'd those Slaves
VVith whom I have been bred; and when my Father

65

Order'd Barbarian Princes for my Masters,
In Arts and Arms, I spurn'd 'em from my presence;
And rather chose, since Rome might not instruct me,
Nature in all my Actions for my Guide.
Hence cou'd I brook more hardly the fierce mind
Of our Inhumane Parent Mithridates.
My Eldest Brother's Fate did kindle first
My fiery Soul to a most swift revenge;
For when the State of Bosphorus demanded
That Prince for King, he bound the gallant Youth
In Golden Chains, and doom'd him to be slain:
Two more were by his boundless fury strangled;
And ev'n the last but me, the brave Ziphares,
Last night was murder'd in the Tyrants Palace:
In whose sad cause, the Squadrons which he led
Of late so valiantly against you Romans,
Attend some furlongs hence to joyn your Banners.
If this be true, not to recount the Slaughters
Of all his Queens and poyson'd Concubines,
I think the World (Rome I shou'd first have nam'd)
Will little censure this so just revolt.
If you suspect me false, behold Pharnaces,
Ne're yet detain'd, but free as roving Lyons
That swept at will like Winds in Deserts wild;
Behold him, with these Noble Hostages,
Your Pris'ner to be bound the Slave of Rome.

Rom. Capt.
Lead us on to Victory.

Omnes.
To Victory.

Phar.
On then, you Race of Heav'n, you Seed of Gods;
And to Immortalize Pharnaces Name,
Plant me, like Thunder breaking from this Cloud,
Foremost, while all the ratling Engines follow.
Monima, whom this Tyrant ravish'd from me,
I hear is fled to Pompey: her I ask,
For my reward, with half his spreading Empire.
But I waste words; let's act, and then make claim.
And O remember, when we storm the Town,
Remember that most horrid Massacre
Of Asia; whet on that your blunted Spirits,
Till with the motion Lightning edge your Souls

66

To mow off hoary Heads, hurl Infants puling
From the lug'd breast, kill in the very Womb:
To Beauties cries be deaf, make all Synope
But one vast Grave, to hold the infinite bodies
Which we must shovel in; and when you see
The Head of Mithridates in this hand,
Then think who ever dar'd for Rome like me,
Or bought an Empire at a price so dreadful:
Then yield the Beauty I so much desire,
And all those Crowns to which my thoughts aspire.

[Exeunt.