 | Siroes |  |
SCENE LAST.
Enter Medarses, and Laodice.Med.
My father.
Laod.
O! my king.
Med.
[kneels.]
Behold Medarses
Now sues for pardon, or for punishment.
Laod.
I too am guilty, and submissive bend
Before my judge: 'twas I that chiefly rais'd
This cruel tempest.
Cos.
Siroes is the offended.
Sir.
Siroes forgets the offenders and the offence;
237
Ah! think how ill the name of foe unites
With her, the object of my soul's affection:
Dismiss thy love, or think no more of vengeance.
Em.
I can resist no longer: such example
Of godlike virtue from my breast removes
All former hatred.
Cos.
[to Em.]
Henceforth let the throne
With you for ever prove the seat of peace:
Siroes shall be your spouse.
Em., Sir.
O! happy day!
Cos.
Persia, behold your king: from me the crown
Shall pass to Siroes' head. I gladly here
Resign the charge; and he whose earliest years
Were spent for you, shall better now sustain,
With vigorous youth, the burden of dominion.
Chorus.
The man, who knows that peace sincere
Which warms the virtuous breast,
Forgets those passions, rage and fear,
The foes to mortal rest.
Which warms the virtuous breast,
Forgets those passions, rage and fear,
The foes to mortal rest.
238
If nourish'd in the lap of grief,
Our joys can vigour gain;
This thought should give the wretch relief:
“That pleasure follows pain.”
Our joys can vigour gain;
This thought should give the wretch relief:
“That pleasure follows pain.”
| Siroes | |