University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

A temple dedicated to the sun, with an altar and image of the Deity.
Cosroes, Siroes, Medarses.
Cos.
To you my sons, not more am I a father
Than father to the state: to you I owe
Paternal tenderness; but to the state
A successor, whom Persia shall confess
A worthy heir of our imperial seat.
This day, between you shall our choice decide;
And him, I choose, must share with me the throne,
And learn with me to guide the reins of empire.
O! happy Cosroes, could I live to see,
Ere lasting sleep has clos'd these aged eyes,
A son who, wise in peace and brave in arms,
Might shade the lustre of his father's fame.

Med.
On you my fate depends.

Sir.
And whom will Cosroes
Esteem the worthiest?

Cos.
Equal is your merit;
In Siroes I regard the gift of valour,
And praise the gentler virtues of Medarses:
Cosroes in thee dislikes thy haughty spirit;
[to Sir.
In him his inexperienc'd age; but time
Will cure the faults of both: meanwhile I fear
My choice proclaim'd may kindle in your bosoms
New flames of mutual strife. Behold the altar,
Behold the God: let each now swear in peace
To abide by our decree, and swear to obey,
Without a murmur, our appointed heir,
In loyalty and truth.

Sir.
[aside.]
Shall Siroes' lip
Pronounce an oath like this?—O! no.—

Med.
Behold
Medarses prompt to obey—the throne is mine,
[aside.
[advances to the altar.]
“Before thy presence, to whose fostering power
“Her blessings nature owes, Medarses bends,
“And swears to pay the new-elected king
“His earliest homage; if I fail in aught
“This oath exacts, O! let thy cheering beams
“Be chang'd for me to more than midnight darkness.”

Cos.
My dearest son! Now, Siroes, thou draw near,
And learn obedience from thy younger brother.

Med.
He thinks, but speaks not.

Cos.
Why dost thou delay
To ensure my peace? How are thy thoughts employ'd?

Sir.
And wherefore should I swear? Such causeless doubt
Offends your son? What are the merits, say,
By which Medarses now aspires to reign?
My father, well you know how far my claim
To elder birth; already was my heart
Inur'd to bear the wrongs of adverse fortune,
When first a father in the cradle heard
His infant cries: you know the hostile spoils
By Siroes added to your former triumphs.
You know the wounds your fame has cost a son,
I groan'd beneath the steely corselet's weight,
In fields of blood and in the face of death;
While he in sloth dragg'd on his days, 'midst all
A parent's fond endearment. This, my father,
You know, and wherefore then must Siroes swear?

Cos.
I know yet more—I know, in my despite,
Thou lov'dst Emira, daughter to Asbites,
My deadly foe: I heard thy sighs of anguish
The day I took from him his life and kingdom:
Then didst thou vow deep hatred to thy father;
And were Emira living still, who knows
To what, by love impell'd, thy rage might tend.

Sir.
Proceed: indulge at full the blind affection
That makes you, Cosroes, thus unjust to me.
Break, for Medarses, all the ties of nature,
And let him from the throne give Persia laws;
While Siroes, mingled with the ignoble herd,
Shall on his younger brother's hand (a hand
Unfit to wield the sceptre of dominion)
Imprint the kiss of base servility.
But Gods there are, whose justice ever wakes
To aid the oppress'd: the world confess Medarses
To Siroes yields in merit as in years.

Cos.
Rash boy! and dost thou threaten? Know, my will.—

Med.
Be calm, my father! and to him resign
The Persian throne, suffice for me your love.

Cos.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Siroes, Medarses.
Sir.
Canst thou, Medarses, fix without a blush
Thine eyes on Siroes?

Med.
Ha! Does Siroes thus
Address his king? Thou know'st that I this day
To thee am arbiter of life and death:
Think then how life to merit as my gift.

Sir.
Thou art too hasty, prince, to assume the stile
That fits a monarch: the paternal crown
Infolds not yet thy brows; and ere the day
Declines, our father may repent his purpose.

SCENE III.

Enter Emira in a man's habit, under the name of Hydaspes.
Em.
Ah! princes, wherefore this unhappy strife?
Forbear such contest as so ill beseems
The name of brethren. On this joyful day
Let not Seleucia view you hateful rivals,
But knit by equal ties of love and honour.

Med.
I strive to appease my brother's causeless anger,
And bear my wrongs in silence, but in vain.

Sir.
O! well feign'd modesty!

Em.
[to Sir.]
I'm not to learn
The meekness of Medarses.

Sir.
Dear Hydaspes,
It ever was his wont to veil his insults
With dark dissimulation.

Med.
[to Em.]
Mark, my friend,
His flushing face, his eyes' malignant glances,
That speak the hatred rankling in his heart.

Em.
[to Med.]
Depart, incense him not; leave me alone
In converse with him.

Sir.
O! perfidious.

Med.
Heavens!
Without a cause you now insult your brother.
Appease him, dear Hydaspes; say, in him
I venerate our Persia's great support,
And own, in Siroes now my sovereign lord.

Em.
Go, leave us then.

Med.
[aside.]
My triumph is at hand.
[Exit Medarses.

SCENE IV.

Emira, Siroes.
Sir.
O! lovely and belov'd Emira.

Em.
Hold.
Reveal me not, but call me still Hydaspes.

Sir.
No ear is nigh, and you are known, Emira,
To me alone: behold the wrongs I suffer
From an unfeeling father.

Em.
Yes, I've seen,
And seen it long: but what does Siroes do?
He rests meanwhile in stupid apathy,
The lethargy of mean degenerate souls;
And while a kingdom moulders from his hope,
He, like a child, a helpless infant, finds
No other arms to oppose his cruel fortune,
But fruitless sighs and idle lamentation.

Sir.
And what could Siroes do?

Em.
What could he do?
What could he not? For him his faithful people
With loyal fury burn: a single blow
Secures thy triumph, and at once completes
My vengeance and thy own.

Sir.
Alas! Emira,
What would'st thou ask?

Em.
I ask a single blow,
Needful to both—and know'st thou who I am?

Sir.
Ah! well I know thee for my soul's best treasure,
Cambaya's princess—yes, thou art Emira.

Em.
Say, I am she, whose sire Asbites died
By Cosroes' cruel hand; that hapless daughter,
Who stript of empire, in a foreign clime,
Now wanders far from her paternal seat;
Who veils, in this attire, her woman's weakness,
And hopes at length to reap a great revenge.

Sir.
O Heaven! by me receiv'd within the palace,
You found the means to win the heart of Cosroes:
His favour all is yours; and can you now,
Forgetful of his benefits conferr'd,
Still brood in secret o'er revenge and hatred.

Em.
The tyrant loves Hydaspes not Emira.
Remember, if you wish Emira's hand,
I wish for Cosroes' death.

Sir.
And could Emira
Receive me stain'd with blood, this face distorted
With all the horrors of a father's murder?

Em.
And how can I, forgetful of my oath,
Behold a parent's pale and bleeding shade
Still hover round and call on me for vengeance;
While careless, stretch'd upon my downy pillow,
I sleep beside the son of him that slew him?

Sir.
If then—

Em.
If then thou wouldst receive my hand,
Thou know'st what service can alone deserve it:
Thou must assist my vengeance.

Sir.
Never! never!

Em.
Hear, if thou, Siroes, still refuse thine arm,
Another's is not wanting: yes, this day
Completes the work; and he whose courage aids
Emira's cause, Emira's love rewards:
Thus, should thy coward hand refuse the stroke,
Thou losest me, and canst not save thy father.

Sir.
Are these, Emira, these the tender feelings
With which you once were wont to sooth my anguish?
'Twas hatred led you hither, while to me
You feign'd your guide was love.

Em.
I kept from thee
My hatred hid, while Cosroes was a father;
But now he sinks the father in the tyrant,
No longer deem in thee to find a son.

Sir.
And would'st thou have me then a parricide?
And does the crime of loving thee deserve
A punishment so dreadful?

Em.
Now full well
I read thy heart: thou never lov'dst Emira.

Sir.
I never lov'd!

Em.
Behold Laodice,
She, who enjoys thy love, she best confirms it.

Sir.
Laodice! I but endur'd her passion
With faint repulse, to sooth, by harmless guile
In her, whom Cosroes loves, a powerful foe.

SCENE V.

Enter Laodice.
Em.
At length thou com'st in time, Laodice,
To ease a faithful lover, who so oft
With tender sighs has languish'd in thy absence.

Laod.
Hydaspes speaks, and ah! my easy heart
Too soon believes.

Em.
The rest let Siroes speak.

Sir.
[aside.]
Unfeeling maid to torture thus my bosom!

Laod.
[to Sir.]
And can I think, illustrious prince, your heart
Will so debase itself in loving me?

Em.
[to Laod.]
His love is firmly yours.

Sir.
[aside to Em.]
Hers, say'st thou, hers?

Em.
[to him.]
Peace, perjur'd man.

Laod.
Does love so little then
Give utterance to his lips?

Em.
A faithful lover
Whose bosom burns, still feeds the flame in silence.

Laod.
Yet oft the glances of an eye betray
The silent lip: but not a look from him
Is turn'd on me; nay rather, as confus'd,
He bends his eyes to earth in stupid gaze,
And seems to give thy every word the lie.

Em.
Not so, Laodice, you are deceiv'd;
You know not Siroes: but I know him well;
He stands abash'd in presence of Hydaspes.

Sir.
[to Em.]
Alas, my love! far other dost thou know.

Em.
[to him.]
Traitor, no more.

Laod.
Abash'd before Hydaspes?
Thou know'st he has no fault, or if a fault,
'Tis courage in extreme, not timid shame.

Em.
But love, that changes all, can render valiant
The coward heart, and fearful make the bold.

Sir.
[aside.]
Unfeeling maid! to torture thus my bosom.

Em.
'Twere best to leave you: constant lovers ever,
Who love like you, abhor society.

Laod.
Hydaspes, yet I tremble lest he still
Deceive thee and myself.

Em.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Siroes, Laodice.
Laod.
You speak not, Siroes—what is now your fear?
Hydaspes is not present: freely then
Disclose your secret.

Sir.
[aside.]
Why am I pursued
With love so fatal?—Ah! Laodice,
Subdue a passion that endangers both,
Should Cosroes, who adores thee, ever learn—

Laod.
O! fear not him, he never will discover
Our gentle intercourse.

Sir.
But then, Hydaspes—

Laod.
Hydaspes is a friend; and, Siroes, he
Approves our love.

Sir.
Not always do the lips
And heart agree.

Laod.
We but torment ourselves
With fancied ills; if obstacles like these
Must from our breast expunge such dear affection.

Sir.
Others there are—Laodice, farewell.

Laod.
Yet stay—and why conceal them?

Sir.
Heavenly powers!
Spare me the shame of speech, and spare thyself
The pain to hear them.

Laod.
Will you leave me then
Thus lost in cruel doubts? Speak, prince, Ah! speak.

Sir.
[aside.]
O pain to suffer!—hear me then declare,
Ah! no—forgive me—I must leave thee.

Laod.
Never,
Till you have given me first to know your secret.

Sir.
Some other time shall tell thee all.

Laod.
But now,
Now is the eventful moment.

Sir.

[Exit.

SCENE VII.

Laodice
alone.
And shall I then endure such cruel scorn?
Oh! no, Laodice; affront like this
Must be reveng'd. Shall that ungrateful boast
His triumph in my shame? A thousand foes
Will, at my bidding, rise at once against him.
It shall be so—his father must believe
The son his rival, both in love and empire;
And by my arts impell'd, shall now my brother
Araxes, offer to Medarses' aid
The troops in arms; and if I meet not all
My wish, at least I will not sigh alone.

SCENE VIII.

Enter Araxes.
Arax.
My sister, with impatience have I sought thee.

Laod.
And now most opportune for me, we meet.

Ar.
Thy help was ne'er more needful.

Laod.
Nor have I
So wish'd thy converse: know my brother—

Ar.
Hold:
First hear me, sister: fir'd with hasty passion,
Cosroes will raise Medarses to the throne:
Orders are issued for the solemn pomp;
The people vent complaints; the soldiers murmur.
Thou, if thou canst, appease an angry father,
Incens'd unjustly, and in Siroes save
A hero to the land.

Laod.
A hero?—No,
Thou art deceiv'd; for in the breast of Siroes
Resides a soul most obstinately savage;
A heart o'erflow'd with pride: he seems to prize
Himself alone, and thinks the subject world
Must all pay tribute to his matchless valour.

Ar.
Is this my sister speaks? And dost thou think—

Laod.
I think his ruin is by us, Araxes,
Most firmly to be wish'd: his fall is near,
Prevent not thou his fate.

Ar.
And who has thus
Estrang'd Laodice?

Laod.
'Tis not for thee
To fathom yet my secret.

Ar.
Every one
Will blame your fickle and inconstant nature.

Laod.

[Exit.

SCENE IX.

Araxes
alone.

[Exit.

SCENE X.

An inner apartment belonging to Cosroes. A table with seats.
Siroes
with a paper.
Still let me from Emira's snares preserve
My father's life.—This paper, thus impress'd
With characters disguis'd, describes the danger,
But keeps unknown the traitor.—If my silence
Conceal the first, I must betray my father;
And if I tell the last, I sacrifice
My cruel, lov'd Emira—Ha! the king
Seems this way bending—Whither shall I turn?
Should he perceive me here he'll sure suspect
From me the warning comes, and force me then
To name the guilty: best awhile retire
And hide me from his sight—O Gods! defend,
Defend Emira, guard my father's life,
And ah! protect my innocence.

[retires.

SCENE XI.

Enter Cosroes.
Cos.
Shall then
The heart of Cosroes from a rebel son
Receive its laws? 'Twere madness but to think it.

SCENE XII.

Enter Laodice.
Cos.
What brings my fair-one unexpected here?

Laod.
I come to claim protection.—Cosroes' favour
Suffices not, even in these palace walls,
To shelter me from fear; nor those are wanting
That outrage and insult me.

Cos.
Who can dare
So far presume?

Laod.
My crime, alas! is truth
And loyalty to you.

Cos.
Declare the guilty,
And leave with me the care to punish him.

Laod.
Your son attempted to seduce my love,
And when I durst reject his impious suit,
He menac'd me with death.

Sir.
[listening.]
What do I hear?

Cos.
My lov'd Medarses could not thus offend:
No—Siroes is the criminal.

Laod.
'Tis true.
What can a woman, helpless, unprotected,
Against the royal heir of Persia's king?

Sir.
[apart.]
All, all the world conspire against my peace!

Cos.
And shall he prove my rival too in love?
Dry up those tears, O! lovely mourner, calm
Thy troubled thoughts.—O! most ungrateful Siroes!
And hast thou dar'd? Believe not I am Cosroes
If I forget—enough—Laodice,
Yes, thou shalt see—

Sir.
[apart.]
O! pain to think!

Laod.
[aside.]
'Twas wise
In me to accuse him first.

Cos.
[sits at the table.]
Unworthy son!

[sees the paper left by Sir. and reads to himself.
Laod.
Had I foreseen such anguish to your heart
I never then— [aside.]
What paper's that? He reads
Absorb'd and lost—he changes colour!

Cos.
Gods!
What worse could angry Heaven have rais'd against me!
Was ever day like this?

[rises.
Laod.
My gracious lord,
What now afflicts you?

SCENE XIII.

Enter Medarses.
Med.
Father, I behold
Your features chang'd.

Cos.
[gives him the paper.]
Read there, belov'd Medarses,
And tremble as thou read'st.

Laod.
[aside.]
What can this mean?

Med.
[reads.]
“Cosroes, a snare is laid to take thy life,
“By one believ'd most loyal: on this day
“The blow is meant. Suspect in every one
“The secret traitor: death is surely thine,
“If from thy presence thou remov'st not all
“That share thy best affections—he who gives
“This counsel is thy friend: believe and live.”

[he returns the paper to Cos.
Laod.
I freeze with horror!

Cos.
What inhuman pity
Thus, thus to save me! From a hand unknown
The warning comes, but points not out the guilty.
Then must I ever fear my friends, my sons?
In every cup believe my death conceal'd,
And see the cruel threat in every sword?
Is this to be preserv'd? Is this to live?

Sir.
[apart.]
Unhappy father!

Med.
[aside.]
Lose not now, my soul,
This fair occasion.

Cos.
Still, Medarses, silent?
Laodice, thou dost not speak.

Laod.
Alas!
I'm struck with terror.

Med.
If I spoke not yet,
I wish'd to hide the guilty from your anger,
The guilty dear to both; but when I see
The cruel anguish of a father's heart,
I can no longer hold—that paper's mine.

Sir.
[apart.]
Insidious falsehood!

Cos.
Know'st thou then the traitor,
And yet conceal'st him from my just resentment?

Med.
[kneels.]
O father most belov'd! forgive the guilty;
Let it suffice, thy life has been preserv'd:
Ah! think not ever in such blood to stain
Your royal hands: know, he who seeks your life
Is your own son—and your Medarses' brother!

Sir.
[apart.]
Must I be silent still?

Cos.
Medarses, rise:
What tongue to thee reveal'd the dreadful secret?

Med.
Siroes himself disclos'd it.

Laod.
[aside.]
Can it be!
What heart would have conceiv'd it?

Med.
Long he tried
To make me partner in his crime—I pleaded,
I begg'd, but all in vain, he vow'd your death;
And hence Medarses in that scroll reveal'd
The dire design.

Sir.
[discovers himself.]
Medarses is a traitor:
That paper's mine.

Med.
[aside.]
O Heaven!

Laod.
[aside.]
What do I see?

Cos.
Ha! Siroes here, conceal'd in my apartment!

Med.
His guilt is clear.

Sir.
'Tis false: desire to save
Your threaten'd life, my father, brought me hither:
A desperate foe, unknown, designs your death,
And you're betray'd.

SCENE XIV.

Enter Emira.
Em.
[entering.]
And who betrays my king?
In his defence behold this arm and sword.

Sir.
There wanted but Hydaspes to complete
The wretchedness of Siroes.

Cos.
[to Em.]
See, my friend,
To what has Heaven reserv'd me.

[gives the paper.
Laod.
Strange events!

Em.
[having read the paper returns it.]
Whence came this warning? Is the traitor known?

Med.
Medarses has reveal'd the whole.

Sir.
My brother
Deceives thee, good Hydaspes, know 'twas I
Disclos'd the secret.

Cos.
Wherefore then forbear
To name the assassin?

Sir.
Thus far have I spoke,
But dare not utter further.

Em.
O! perfidious!
And would'st thou thus conceal thy impious treason
With virtue's thin disguise? A friend to none,
The offender nor the offended; both betray'd.
The monarch is not safe; the stroke design'd
By thee prevented; now thou com'st to boast
The warning given in that ambiguous paper.
Yes, traitor, I would fain— [to Cos.]
forgive, my king,
This warmth of temper: 'tis my duty speaks:
As loyalty has bound me to the father,
So far respect is wanting to the son:
Your danger is my own.

Laod.
[aside.]
What noble daring!

Cos.
What do I owe to thee, belov'd Hydaspes?
[to Sir.]
Learn, learn, ingrate, behold a stranger born;
The blood of Cosroes circles in thy veins:
To him I gave my favour, thee thy life,
And yet behold he stands to guard my safety,
While thy insidious arts invade my throne.

Sir.
I dare no further plead in my defence,
And yet I am not guilty.

Med.
Innocence
Is ever bold, nor keeps a sullen silence;
Medarses freely speaks.

Em.
[to Sir.]
Away: what now
Employs thy thoughts? What dost thou? He who goes
So far, would doubtless soon complete his purpose;
Thou answer'st not: I know thou art confus'd;
It galls thee now to find thy heart reveal'd,
And all thy falsehood open'd to Hydaspes;
And hence thy silence, hence thy looks of shame,
And hence that fear to cast thine eyes on mine.

Sir.
[aside.]
There wanted but Hydaspes to complete
The wretchedness of Siroes.

Cos.
Yes, Medarses,
His silence justifies the imputed guilt.

Med.
Medarses truly spoke.

Em.
But Siroes' lips
Are fraught with falsehood.

Sir.
'Tis too much, Hydaspes,
And shall not this suffice? What would'st thou more?

Em.
Do thou from anxious doubts relieve my king.

Sir.
What can I say?

Em.
Say? That thy crime is mine,
Say that, with thee, I'm partner in the guilt;
Or rather say that all the guilt is mine,
And thine the loyalty: for this, and more
A mind like his might feign.

[to Cosroes.
Cos.
But fruitless all.
'Tis not an easy task to impose on Cosroes:
I know thy truth too well.

[to Em.
Em.
O! would to heaven
That Siroes' loyal faith could equal mine!

Cos.
I know him too—all, all proclaims him traitor;
He neither makes defence, nor sues for pardon.

Sir.
I can no further plead my hapless cause,
And yet I'm innocent.

Med.
Is he not guilty,
Who could refuse but now a solemn oath
To calm a father's peace?

Laod.
Is he not guilty,
Who cherish'd in his breast presumptuous love?

Cos.
Is he not guilty, whom myself I found
Conceal'd in secret here?

Em.
Is he not guilty,
Who first could claim this paper as his own,
And when I press'd him close with words of truth,
Stood mute and terrified?

Sir.

[Exit.

SCENE XV.

Cosroes, Emira, Medarses, Laodice.
Cos.
Ho!—let the prince be watch'd.

[to the guards without.
Em.
Myself will keep
Your royal person safe.

Med.
Why fears my father,
Enclos'd with faithful friends, a single traitor?

Laod.
You are too deeply mov'd.

Cos.
And who can tell
What friend is true; or know what snare is laid?

Em.
You fear not me, my lord.

Cos.
No, dear Hydaspes,
On thy untainted faith I trust my all:
Search deep this treason, and defend in Cosroes
A prince that loves thee.

Em.
Nor can Cosroes trust
His peace to one, who bears a heart more loyal:
If all his aid, his counsel nought avail,
Hydaspes, jealous of his truth and honour,
Will shed his dearest blood in your defence.

Cos.

[Exit.

SCENE XVI.

Emira, Medarses, Laodice.
Med.
Who would have thought in Siroes e'er to find
A traitor to his king?

Laod.
Or who conceiv'd
A heart so treacherous and a love so daring?

Em.
And what can urge these mean unworthy insults
On one who hears them not? Medarses surely
Might own some feeling to a brother's name;
And you, Laodice, with more respect
Might judge a prince like him: believe not always
The unhappy are the guilty.

Med.
Does Medarses
Such pity feel for Siroes?

Laod.
Thou to plead
In his behalf?

Med.
And didst not thou, Hydaspes,
Till now insult him?

Load.
Say, what cause excites
Thy anger against us?

Em.
From me perchance
He might deserve reproach, but not from you.

Med.
So soon to change, and now defend the man
Whom late you sought to ruin?

Em.
You believe
Hydaspes chang'd, Hydaspes is the same.

Laod.
The same? I know not what your speech intends.

Med.
A mind unchang'd could never dictate words,
That speak the thoughts so various.

Em.

[Exit.

SCENE XVII.

Laodice, Medarses.
Laod.
The words Hydaspes utter'd sure contain
Some strange and hidden sense.

Med.
Ah! little read
In human kind; and dost thou then believe him?
Thou shouldst be vers'd in courts: 'tis ever thus
With him who holds the favour of his prince:
His artificial plots are hidden secrets:
The less the vulgar comprehend, the more
They worship and admire.

Laod.

[Exit.

SCENE XVIII.

Medarses
alone.

[Exit.