University of Virginia Library

SCENE XII.

Enter Arbaces in chains, guarded.
Arb.
Am I to Persia then become so hateful,
That all are gather'd to behold my sufferings?
My king—

Artax.
Call me thy friend: fain would I still
Continue thus, that I might doubt thy guilt.
And since the indulgent name of friend but ill
Beseems the judge, the trial of thy crime
To Artaban's committed.

Arb.
To my father!

Artax.
To him.

Arb.
I freeze with horror!

[aside.
Artab.
Wherefore art thou
Thus lost in thought? Perhaps thou stand'st amaz'd
To see my fortitude.

Arb.
Alas! my father;
I'm struck with horror to behold thee here,
Reflecting what I am, and what thou art.
Canst thou then judge me? Canst thou thus preserve
Thy looks unchang'd, nor feel thy breast within
Torn by conflicting pangs?

Artab.
Whate'er I feel,
'Tis not for thee to explore my secret thoughts,
Or search how far my heart and face agree.
Remember thou hast made me what I am:
Had'st thou observ'd my counsels, had'st thou learn'd
To tread the steps of an indulgent father,
Before these peers I had not been the judge,
Nor thou the criminal.

Artax.
Unhappy father!

Man.
We come not here to attend your private griefs:
Or let Arbaces now defend himself,
Or let him be condemn'd.

Arb.
Inhuman princess!
[aside.

Artab.
Then let the criminal appear before me,
And answer my demands. Thou art here, Arbaces,
As Xerxes' murderer; and these the proofs
That speak thy guilt: thy rash presumptuous love,
Thy wrath against the king—

Arb.
My bloody weapon,
The time, the place, my fear, my flight, I know
All these proclaim me guilty; yet all these
Are other than they seem—I am innocent.

Artab.
Produce the proofs; clear up thy sullied fame,
And calm the anger of distress'd Mandane.

Arb.
Oh! would'st thou have me constant in my sufferings,
Assail me not in that most tender part.
At that lov'd name—Inhuman father—

Artab.
Hold,
With passion blind, thou know'st not where thou art,
With whom thou speak'st, or what assembly hears thee.

Arb.
But yet my father—

Artab.
Yet my soul conceal
Thy inward pangs.
[aside.

Man.
Be still my beating heart.
[aside.

Artab.
Thy crime demands repentance or defence.

Artax.
O speak—assist our pitying grace.

Arb.
My king!
I cannot speak of guilt or of defence;
Nor can I find a motive to repent;
And should you question me a thousand times,
I must a thousand times repeat the same.

Artab.
O filial love!
[aside.

Man.
Yes, yes, his speech, his silence
Alike declare him guilty: wherefore then
This long delay? What means the judge? Is this
The man that should revenge his murder'd king,
And clear his own dishonour?

Arb.
Dost thou seek
My death, Mandane?

Man.
Persevere, my soul.
[aside.

Artab.
Princess, thy just reproach has rouz'd my virtue:
Let Artaban pronounce the impartial sentence,
And give to Persia's realms a great example
Of loyalty and justice yet unknown.
I here condemn my son—Arbaces die.

[signs the paper.
Man.
O Heaven!
[aside.

Artax.
Defer, my friend, the fatal sentence.

Artab.
The deed is sign'd—I have fulfill'd my duty.

[rises and gives the paper to Megabyzus.
Artax.
O barbarous triumph!

[descends from his throne, the Grandees rise.
Sem.
Most inhuman father!

Man.
My tears betray me.
[aside.

Arb.
Does Mandane weep?
Can then my fate at length excite your pity?

Man.
Tears flow not less from pleasure than from grief.

Artab.
The rigorous judge has done his part—O sir!
Permit the father now to be indulg'd.
Forgive, my son, the laws of tyrant duty,
Endure with patience what remains to suffer:
[to Arb.
Let not the thought of punishment affright thee;
The fear of evil is the greatest evil.

Arb.
Alas! my constancy begins to shake,
To view myself before the world expos'd
A seeming criminal; to see my hopes
Thus blasted in their spring; my day of life
Extinct at early dawn; to find myself
Hateful to Persia, to my friend, my love;
To know my father—most unnatural father!
But whither am I hurried?—O farewell!

[going, he stops.
Artab.
My soul is chill'd.
[aside.

Man.
I faint.
[aside.

Arb.
Too rash Arbaces,
What hast thou utter'd? Pardon me, my father;
Behold me at your feet: excuse the transports
Of wild despair: let all my blood be shed,
I'll ne'er complain, nor call the sentence cruel,
But kiss the hand that signs my death.

Artab.
O rise!
Thou hast indeed too deep a cause for anguish.
But know—O Heaven!—This last embrace and leave me.

Arb.
While on this dear embrace I dwell,
O hear me by this last farewell!
Preserve thyself from ill, remove
This cruel scorn from her I love;
And still my king defend.
I meet my doom without regret,
If all the woes that Persia threat
On me alone descend.

[Exit guarded, followed by Megabyzus, The Grandees go out.]