University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

A deep stony valley, surrounded by rocks and shaded with thick trees.
Rhadamistus asleep upon a rock, Zopyrus observing him with attention.
Zop.
O! no, I am not deceiv'd, 'tis Rhadamistus:
How favouring stars have answer'd to my wishes!
I have long pursued his steps; and chance has now
Expos'd him to my arm, immers'd in sleep,
Alone in this sequester'd part. Neglect not
The gift that Fortune offers—Let him die:
This even his father bids; he hates in him
The rival of his throne, and I, in him,
The rival of my love—Then let me serve
My vengeance and my king.

[about to draw his sword.
Rhad.
[dreaming.]
Leave me in peace.

Zop.
He wakes! malicious fate!—We must dissemble.

Rhad.
Leave me in peace, O! ever honour'd shade!

[waking.
Zop.
Almighty powers!

[seeming not to have seen him before.
Rhad.
My stars! what do I see!

Zop.
Ha! Rhadamistus!

Rhad.
Art thou Zopyrus?

[rising.
Zop.
O! prince! thy country's boast, the care of Heaven,
Belov'd of Asia and thy faithful Zopyrus;
And is it given me once again to see thee?
O! let me on that royal hand impress
A thousand times the kiss of loyalty.

Rhad.
What evil chance has led thy feet to tread
These horrid rocks, which scarce the sun has known?

Zop.
I fly the rage of impious Pharasmanes.

Rhad.
Guard more thy speech: remember he's thy king,
And Rhadamistus' father—Say, what crime
Seeks he in thee to punish?

Zop.
This alone,
That I am friend to you.

Rhad.
Alas! 'tis just;
All, all should now abhor me—I confess it.
O! I'm an object hateful to the living,
And hateful to myself.

Zop.
Not so, my lord,
You are unhappy, but not criminal;
I know your cruel fortune.

Rhad.
Little sure
Thou know'st my fatal story.

Zop.
Yes, I know
That all Armenia rose in arms, and deem'd
In you they view'd the murderer of their king.
But well I know, that from your father came
The blow in secret dealt; that he with art
Transferr'd the guilt to you—Zenobia too—

Rhad.
O! cease—

Zop.
And why, my prince?

Rhad.
With that dear name
Thou stabb'st my soul.

Zop.
But late she was your joy.
I'm not to learn you sought her hand in marriage.

Rhad.
I sought and I obtain'd it—Such a treasure,
Alas! was mine—But O! ye Gods!—

Zop.
You weep:
Have you then lost her? Speak: where is Zenobia?
What fate could e'er divide such happy bands?

Rhad.
Ah! Zopyrus, she's dead, and died by me.

Zop.
By you?—Just Gods! and why—

Rhad.
Because the earth
Has ne'er produc'd a wretch like Rhadamistus;
A monster void of good; because I knew not
To curb the mad excess of jealous fury.

Zop.
I know not what your words intend.

Rhad.
Then hear:
Believ'd a traitor by Armenia's sons
In tumult rais'd, thou know'st I was constrain'd
But late to fly. Along Araxes' banks
I took my course: my lov'd Zenobia then
(Too virtuous consort!) would with me partake
My toil and peril; but her tender frame
To these unequal prov'd—By slow degrees
Her strength grew less, and pale and breathless now
With tardy steps she follow'd, when the tread
Of fierce pursuers, thickening at our heels,
Drew near and nearer—“O! my much-lov'd lord!”
(At length she cried) “I faint! I can no more—
“Save, save thy life alone; but let thy weapon
“First pierce this bosom: leave me not expos'd
“To hostile fury.” Think, O! think, my friend,
What then was Rhadamistus—Lost in grief,
And frantic with despair, I wept, I rav'd;
When, O! my Zopyrus, the fatal moment
Was come, when full before my eyes I saw
The Parthian Tiridates' banners wave:
I saw, I knew him; and that instant banish'd
My small remains of reason: then to mind
I call'd the loves of him and my Zenobia.
Reflection told me all defence was vain
To save her from his hands; and cruel fancy
Now shew'd my consort in a rival's arms.
I trembled, while a sudden chillness crept
Through all my veins, and every thought was madness.
My tongue refus'd its utterance; night appear'd
To cloud the air and veil the troubled sun.

Zop.
On what could you resolve?

Rhad.
Furious, distracted,
I drew my sword and plung'd it, (Heavenly powers!)
Deep in my consort's breast, and next my own:
Senseless she sunk within Araxes' stream,
While on his banks I stagger'd, reel'd and fell.

Zop.
Unhappy princess!

Rhad.
For my punishment,
I died not with the wound: the sudden fall
Conceal'd me from the foes. At morning light
A stranger's pitying hand convey'd me thence—
—But thou attend'st not; with disorder'd looks
Thou seem'st absorb'd in thought. I know too well
What thou would'st say—Thou marvell'st still to see
The earth support me; that these savage rocks
Fall not in vengeance on my guilty head.
Believe that I am punish'd; Heaven is just:
The righteous Gods have, for my chastisement,
Consign'd me to myself to feel the stings,
The cruel stings of late but dire remorse.

Zop.
[aside.]
What shall I do? This arm will not suffice
Alone, to take the forfeit of his crimes.

Rhad.
I know what justice now demands. This hand
Should free a passage for my guilty soul:
But let me first find out those dear remains;
Pay them the last sad rites of sepulture,
Then close these eyes in death. Unburied, now
Her spirit wanders 'midst these gloomy shades;
I see it ever flit before my eyes:
I have no peace—O! let us then, my friend,
Depart to seek her.

[going.
Zop.
Hold: for while the foes
Enclose us round, the attempt would prove in vain.
Here, in this vale, awhile remain conceal'd,
And wait for my return: with utmost speed
I hasten to pursue the pious search.

Rhad.
Then be it so. Go, Zopyrus, and then—

Zop.
No more: confide in me, nor quit this place;
Expect me soon. Meantime, my prince, compose
Your troubled soul, and moderate your sorrows.
Think what you owe yourself: forget that face,
And from remembrance rase the once-lov'd name.

Rhad.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Zopyrus
alone.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

An open country watered by the river Araxes: on one side are pastoral cottages, and on the other side the view is terminated by a range of pleasant hills. At the foot of the nearest hill is a rustic grotto, the entrance almost covered with ivy and shrubs. At a distance beyond the river is seen the royal city of Artaxata, with a magnificent bridge leading to it. The Parthian army encamped by the river.
Enter Zenobia and Ægle from one of the cottages.
Zen.
No, gentle Ægle, seek not to attend
Zenobia's steps: I must not now permit thee.
A wretched fugitive, who knows, alas!
Where fate may lead me next? Should I receive thee
To share my dangers, ill must I repay
The goodness of thy heart; enough already
Thy kindness has been shewn: let this suffice.
Twice have I liv'd by thee: thy pity drew me
From the swift eddies of Araxes' tide:
My wounded bosom by thy care was heal'd:
I found a sweet asylum in thy cottage,
And thou to me wert comforter and friend,
Companion and adviser: leaving thee,
My loss is more than thine. Thou must not hence;
In this thou hast no will: thy duty here
Detains thee near an aged father; mine
Commands me to pursue a husband lost:
Our several duties claim us each—Farewell.

Ægl.
But thus alone, without a guide, to trace
These savage woods—Such courage in a woman
Is surely wondrous.

Zen.
Long I've been inur'd
To every trial. From my earliest age
I learn'd to suffer: thrice five years are past
Since, once before, Armenia's rebel sons
Constrain'd my flight; and then, alas! I lost
A dear and infant sister, ravish'd from me;
Or happier, she amidst the tumult perish'd,
While I still live reserv'd for endless woes.

Ægl.
And would'st thou, midst such peril, thus pursue
A cruel husband's steps?

Zen.
More kindly name
A hero fam'd for every royal virtue.

Ægl.
Is jealous fury then a royal virtue?

Zen.
Say, who is perfect? Let us learn to pardon
The faults of others while we view our own.

Ægl.
To slay his wife!—

Zen.
Involuntary crimes
We call not guilt.—Alas! in such a state
My Rhadamistus was no more himself,
But, urg'd by sudden frenzy, rais'd his weapon.
Not Rhadamistus then assail'd Zenobia:
Not love, but fury struck; nor saw he then
The victim of his momentary rage.

Ægl.
O! generous dame! permit me now to seek
For tidings of your spouse, while you remain—

Zen.
No, dearest Ægle, no—it must not be.
My longer tarriance here would risk too far
Zenobia's fame and virtue.

Ægl.
How, Zenobia?

Zen.
Full well I know thou little canst conceive
What mean my words: then hear, and truly say
If fear in me is blame. The youthful leader
Of yonder squadrons, which thou see'st encamp'd,
Is Tiridates, brother to the king
Who sways the Parthian sceptre. Never yet
The Gods have form'd a prince who better claim'd
The love of all: a spirit more exalted,
A form more graceful, or of gentler manners.
I lov'd him, and was lov'd, (without a blush
I may confess a passion since subdued)
He wish'd, he sought my hand: my father gladly
Receiv'd his suit, but Rhadamistus then
With him contended for Zenobia's faith;
And hence the king, my father, urg'd my lover
To seek for succour from his royal brother,
Of arms and warriors: strengthen'd thus against
His rival's force, to seek Armenia's court,
And tie th' expected knot. He parted thence,
And I remain'd. I tremble, while remembrance
Recalls that mournful parting: well my heart
Presag'd in that, alas! our last farewell.
While anxious, restless still, my ardent vows
Would hasten his return, one day my father
Declar'd, (O! death to hear!) he wish'd me now
The wife of Rhadamistus; that a cause
Of high import had chang'd his former purpose;
That my refusal would expose to peril
His peace, his throne, his dignity and life.
What could I do, a subject and a daughter?
I wept, deplor'd my fate, and begg'd to die;
But I obey'd; nor was my hand alone
Given at his will: I gain'd a mightier conquest,
And moulded my affections to his choice:
With honour's ties I fortified my virtue,
And sacrific'd the lover to the wife.

Ægl.
And saw you never Tiridates more?

Zen.
Forbid it all ye powers! This fear alone
Now drives me hence; not that I doubt myself:
No, Ægle, no; I feel Zenobia's soul
By reason measures every thought and deed—
My victory is certain; but the struggle
Is dreadful in extreme: we must not less
Avoid the shew of guilt than guilt itself.
A woman's fame is like the crystal, soil'd
With every touch; or like the feeble reed,
That bends with every blast.

Ægl.
Unhappy prince!
What must he feel at such heart-breaking news?

Zen.
To him 'tis yet unknown. A secret marriage
United Rhadamistus' fate with mine;
And Tiridates to the promis'd nuptials
Return'd unconscious of th' event.

Ægl.
O! Heavens!
To find Armenia rous'd to general tumult;
The throne now vacant and the monarch slain,
And all his hopes destroy'd!—Zenobia too—

Zen.
To find Zenobia in another's arms.

Ægl.
O! cruel destiny!

Zen.
Now say, my friend,
Can I expose my constancy to view
The grief of such a prince; of one so lov'd?
Of one who merits all? Who, when he hears
This heart is made another's—O! farewell.

Ægl.
And will you leave me?

Zen.
Yes, my dearest Ægle,
I fly this place, for danger threatens here;
A thousand thoughts, a thousand kind memorials—

Ægl.
And whom can harmless pity wrong?

Zen.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

Ægle
alone.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

Zenobia
alone, searching round the stage.
[goes out and returns again.

[enters the grotto.

SCENE VI.

Enter Tiridates. Zenobia in the grotto.
Tir.
Mithranes not return'd? His long delay
Fills me with terror—But he comes—Alas!
What mean those looks disturb'd? O! haste, my friend,
Kill me, or give me comfort—Where's my love?
What tidings hast thou brought?

SCENE VII.

Enter Mithranes.
Mit.
Ah, Tiridates!

Tir.
O Heavens! what cruel silence! Speak—Is then
Zenobia's fate a secret? None can tell
What has befallen, or whither fate has driven her?

Mit.
Alas! too well 'tis known.

Tir.
O! speak.

Mit.
She's dead.

Tir.
O! all ye powers of Heaven!

Mit.
The wretch who slew
The father, took the hapless daughter's life.

Tir.
What villain?—

Mit.
Rhadamistus; he, the inhuman,
By him Zenobia died.

Tir.
O! murderous slave!
And could he then—O! no, it cannot be:
What heart would not relent at charms like hers?
He lov'd her too—Believe it not, Mithranes.

Mit.
Grant Heaven 'twere doubtful! On Araxes' banks
He gave the wound, and from the further shore
A fisher saw her, with the cruel stroke,
Fall in the rapid stream: swift plunging in
He swam to give her aid, but all in vain;
She sunk beneath the tide, from which he drew
Her floating bloody vest. Alas! his tale
Admits no gleam of hope; myself beheld
Zenobia's vest, and knew it for her own.

Tir.
Assist me, heavenly powers!

Zen.
[listening.]
O! cruel trial!

Tir.
The day now fails before my darken'd sight.

[leans against a tree.
Zen.
[apart.]
O! give me counsel, Gods!

Mit.
Be calm, my prince:
The mighty Gods such sufferings send to prove
A hero's virtue.

Tir.
Leave me.

Mit.
Shall I leave you
In such a state? How would the world reproach
Mithranes' loyal truth?

Tir.
Depart, depart.

Mit.

[Exit.

SCENE VIII.

Tiridates. Zenobia apart.
Tir.
Is then Zenobia dead, and does my heart
Still cherish life? For whom? What hope can more
Attract thee now? What hast thou now to wish?
Enjoyments, treasure, pomp, life, honours, all
For her were dear. I lose the object now
Of all my toils and cares—To me the world
Is lost for ever!—No, ungrateful stars!
[rises.
Think not to part me from Zenobia ever:
This sword, in your despite, amid the dark
Oblivious realm shall join me to my love.

[draws his sword.
Zen.
[coming out of the grotto.]
What do I see!

Tir.
[to himself.]
Dear object of my wishes!
Ah! think not yet to pass the Stygian waves
Till Tiridates comes—'Tis this—

[about to stab himself.
Zen.
O! hold!

[stopping him.
Tir.
Ye Gods!

Zen.
O! hold and live.

[takes away his sword.
Tir.
Zenobia! Heavens!
[Zen. is going.
My life, my soul!

[following her.
Zen.
Forbear to follow me:
I am not what I seem.

[going.
Tir.
Ha! would'st thou then—

[about to follow.
Zen.
Forbear to follow me—O! let me, prince,
Entreat thus much; and she who gave thee life
Can ask not less.

Tir.
But is it possible?

[following her.
Zen.
Stop, or I slay myself.

[about to stab herself.
Tir.
Just Heavens!—Ah! yet—

Zen.
If you advance a step this weapon's point
Shall drink Zenobia's blood.

Tir.
Ah! hold—I yield—
I quit thee—I obey—But hear me: whither,
Ah! whither goest thou?

Zen.
Whither fate now calls.

[going.
Tir.
Zenobia!—O! unkind—

Zen.
Zenobia's dead.

[Exit.

SCENE IX.

Tiridates
alone.
Princess! my love! O! hear me still—Ye powers!
Where shall I turn? I dare not, thus forbidden,
Pursue her steps, nor can remain behind:
This, this is torture.

SCENE X.

Enter Mithranes.
Mit.
From Artaxata,
My lord, the ambassadors are now arriv'd,
Deputed by Armenia.

Tir.
[seeing, but not attending to him.]
Haste, my friend,
O! haste—For me pursue—In pity haste,
And stay her flight.

Mit.
Whom shall I stay?

Tir.
She lives!
And breathes this vital air.

Mit.
Who lives, my prince?

Tir.
Zenobia lives.

Mit.
Alas! he raves.

Tir.
O! Heaven!
Why dost thou loiter? Yonder lies the way:
Her track is there.

Mit.
But yet—

Tir.
[impatiently.]
While thou delay'st
The time in vain debate—she's lost.

Mit.
I go.
[aside.]
O! how excess of grief distracts the sense!

[Exit.

SCENE XI.

Tiridates
alone.

[Exit.