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Artaxerxes

Hoole, John (1727-1803)
  
ARTAXERXES.
  
[castlist]
  
[section]

collapse section1. 
ACT I.
 1. 
SCENE I.
 2. 
SCENE II.
 3. 
SCENE III.
 4. 
SCENE IV.
 5. 
SCENE V.
 6. 
SCENE VI.
 7. 
SCENE VII.
 8. 
SCENE VIII.
 9. 
SCENE IX.
 10. 
SCENE X.
 11. 
SCENE XI.
 12. 
SCENE XII.
 13. 
SCENE XIII.
 14. 
SCENE XIV.
 15. 
SCENE XV.
 16. 
SCENE XVI.
 17. 
SCENE XVII.
 18. 
SCENE XVIII.
collapse section2. 
ACT II.
 1. 
SCENE I.
 2. 
SCENE II.
 3. 
SCENE III.
 4. 
SCENE IV.
 5. 
SCENE V.
 6. 
SCENE VI.
 7. 
SCENE VII.
 8. 
SCENE VIII.
 9. 
SCENE IX.
 10. 
SCENE X.
 11. 
SCENE XI.
 12. 
SCENE XII.
 13. 
SCENE XIII.
 14. 
SCENE XIV.
 15. 
SCENE XV.
 16. 
SCENE XVI.
collapse section3. 
ACT III.
 1. 
SCENE I.
 2. 
SCENE II.
 3. 
SCENE III.
 4. 
SCENE IV.
 5. 
SCENE V.
 6. 
SCENE VI.
 7. 
SCENE VII.
 8. 
SCENE VIII.
 9. 
SCENE IX.
 10. 
SCENE X.
 11. 
SCENE XI.
 12. 
SCENE XII.
 13. 
SCENE XIII.
 14. 
[scene]

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SCENE XVII.

Mandane, Arbaces, Guards.
Arb.
At least, Mandane, listen for a moment.

Man.
Think not I'll listen to a traitor's voice.

Arb.
My life, my soul!

Man.
And dar'st thou, wretch, presume
To call me thus? To offer me that hand
Which slew my father!

Arb.
O! I slew him not.

Man.
Who was the assassin? Speak.

Arb.
Alas! I cannot:
My lips—

28

Man.
Thy lips are false.

Arb.
My heart—

Man.
Thy heart
Is true to vice, because it feels not horror
For such a crime committed.

Arb.
I am still—

Man.
Thou art a traitor.

Arb.
I am innocent.

Man.
Ha! innocent!

Arb.
I swear it.

Man.
Faithless wretch!

Arb.
What pangs I suffer for a cruel father!
[aside.
Didst thou but know, my life!—

Man.
Too well I know
Thy hate of Xerxes.

Arb.
Still thou canst not tell—

Man.
I heard thy threats.

Arb.
And yet thou art deceiv'd.

Man.
O yes, perfidious! I was then deceiv'd,
And then alone, when I believ'd and lov'd thee.

Arb.
Then now—

Man.
I hate thee—

Arb.
And thou art—

Man.
Thy foe.

29

Arb.
Thou seek'st—

Man.
I seek thy death.

Arb.
Thy first affection—

Man.
'Tis all to hatred chang'd.

Arb.
And wilt thou not
Believe Arbaces?

Man.
No, thou art falsehood all.
Tell me that thy treacherous nature,
Ever purpos'd to deceive;
Tell me that thy heart's a traitor,
Perjur'd monster! I'll believe.
Fain, ye Gods! I would forget him,
[aside.
Fain would drive him from my thought,
Yet, alas! I cannot hate him,
As my duty says I ought.

[Exit.
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