University of Virginia Library

SCENE LAST.
Enter Arbaces.
Arb.
Behold, my lord, Arbaces at your feet.

Artax.
Come to my breast again: forgive me, friend,
That e'er I doubted thee: thy innocence
Is now most clear. O give me then the power
To recompense thee; from the people's mind
Chace every dark suspicion; tell us why
That crimson steel was in thy hand; what meant
Thy flight, thy silence, all that spoke thee guilty?

Arb.
O sir! if aught from you I have deserv'd,
Permit me to be silent still—my lips
Are guiltless of a lie—believe his faith
Who once preserv'd thy life—I am innocent.

Artax.
Swear it at least, and let the solemn rite
Confirm thy truth: behold the ready cup,
And as the custom of our Persia claims,
Call down the God to witness.

Arb.
I am ready.

[takes the cup.
Man.
Behold my lov'd Arbaces freed from danger.

[aside.
Artab.
Where am I? Should he swear, my son is poison'd.

[aside.
Arb.
“Bright God! by whom the vernal flowers arise,
“By whom the whole creation lives or dies.”

Artab.
O me unhappy!

[aside.
Arb.
“If I falsehood speak,
“This wholesome beverage—”

[about to drink.
Artab.
Hold! the cup is poison'd.

Artax.
What do I hear?

Arb.
O Gods!

Artax.
And why till now
Didst thou conceal it from me?

Artab.
'Twas for thee
I had prepar'd it.

Artax.
What could urge thy rage?

Artab.
Dissimulation can no more avail:
Paternal love already has betray'd me.
I was the murderer of Xerxes; all
The royal blood I sought to shed: 'tis I
Am guilty, not Arbaces: to his hand,
I, to conceal it, gave the bloody weapon.
His looks proclaim'd his horror for my crime;
His silence the compassion of a son.
O! had not virtue wrought so strong in him,
Or love in me, I had fulfill'd my purpose,
And had depriv'd thee now of life and empire.

Artax.
Perfidious wretch! my father hast thou murder'd,
And made me guilty of Darius' death!
To what excesses has thy impious thirst
Of greatness led thee!—Traitor, thou shalt die.

Artab.
At least we'll die together.

[draws his sword, Artaxerxes does the same.
Arb.
Heavens!

Artab.
My friends,
[to the rebels.
Heed not his threats, the feeble last remains
Of desperation—let the tyrant die.

[the guards, seduced by Artaban, prepare to attack Artaxerxes.
Arb.
What would'st thou do, my father?

Artab.
Bravely perish.

Arb.
Lay by thy sword, or here I drink my death.

Artab.
What say'st thou, ha!

Arb.
O, if you kill my friend,
My Artaxerxes, I can live no longer.

Artab.
Let me complete what I've begun.

[going to attack Artaxerxes.
Arb.
Take heed,
Or here I drink.

[about to drink.
Artab.
Hold then, ungrateful son!
And dost thou wish to see thy father die,
Because too well he lov'd thee? Yes, ingrate,
Yes, thou hast conquer'd—there—behold my sword.

[throws away his sword, and the rebel guards fly.
Man.
Faith unexampled!

Sem.
Treachery unequall'd!

Artax.
Pursue the rebels, and let Artaban
Be led to instant death.

Arb.
O Heaven!—yet stay;
Have pity, sir.

Artax.
Hope not for mercy for him,
His crime's too great: yet think not I confound
The innocent and guilty; thou Arbaces
Shalt wed Mandane, and the fair Semira
With me divide the throne; but for that traitor
No pardon can be granted.

Arb.
Take my life,
I ask it not, if by my truth to you,
If, by preserving you, I kill my father!

Artax.
O virtue that excites our admiration!

Arb.
I do not ask your mercy for myself;
Be rigorous still—but change his death for mine.
Hear him, who once preserv'd you, at your feet
[kneels.
Now kneeling beg to suffer for a father.
Thus, thus appease your justice, shed my blood,
And, shedding mine, the blood of Artaban.

Artax.
O rise—no more—dry up those generous tears,
Who can resist thee? Artaban shall live,
But let him live at least in mournful exile.
Thus far thy sovereign grants thy pious suit;
The virtuous son preserves the guilty father.

CHORUS.