University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

SCENE A Tent in a Camp, Trees on both Sides. Cleora is discover'd in a melancholic Posture, Media by her; Guards at a Distance.
Cleo.
AIR.

Med.
Cease, Princess! Calm your Thoughts to Peace!
Nor, grieving thus, your Woes increase.
“Women, fram'd for soft Alarms,
“May of Eastern Kings complain,
“Who luxurious, ev'n in Arms,
“Clog Armies with a Female Train.
“The Lumber of the War we prove;
“And grace no Camp, but that of Love.
Yet, tho' surpriz'd by Scythian Foes,
The Niece of Cyrus feels unusual Woes,
That Monarch, fortunate and great,
Will soon reverse our Fate;
And stubborn Scythia shall obey
His Arbitrary Sway.
AIR.

Cleo.
Thy gay Humour, to my Grief
Brings no Cure, tho' some Relief.
Yet, in Innocence secure,
Bravely I'll the worst endure;
Like thee, strive my Heart to chear;
And lull asleep my Care.
AIR.

SCENE II.

The Scene changes, and discovers Thomyris seated in State, Courtiers, Guards, and other Attendants.
Thom.
rising.
With Heav'n's and your Assent,
Queen of the Northern World I reign;
Bless'd in your Ease, with Mind intent
Your Freedom to maintain.
My Soul no greater Empire craves:
'Tis nobler thus my Pow'r to hold,
And lead by Love the Free and Bold,
Than drive a World of Slaves.

AIR.
Rouse, ye Brave, for Fame and Glory,
And oppose invading Spight!
Drive the slavish Foe before ye!
Turn to Terror all their Raging!
You must conquer when engaging,
'Tis for Liberty you fight.
Rouse, ye, &c.

Enter Orontes, and kneels to Thomyris.
Oron.
Hail! mighty Empress!
O mia Regina!

Tho.
Rise, my Son.

Oron.
Return'd with Spoils your Arms have won,
Permit me at your Feet to bless
Kind Heav'n, and you, for our Success.
And may this first Advantage prove
A happy Omen from above!
[He rises.
Vincitor qual io ritorno,
Deh! Lasciate à vostri piedi
Ch'io ringrazi, in si bel giorno,
Voi, el'Ciel di tal vittoria,
Primo grado a nuova gloria!

Tho.
So soon victorious!

Oron.
The numerous Foe, to pass the Flood,
At distant Fords divided stood.
A Part, spread o'er the Scythian Field,
Was charg'd, and forc'd to yield:
And here the Conquer'd wait,
From you to know their Fate.
Tento spesso l'Inimico
Di passar l'opposto fiume;
Ma il Valor dell' armi vostre
L'assali, l'oppresse, é vinse:
E il rubel conobbe in vano,
Ch'il suo fato è in vostra mano.

Tho.
I'll see 'em now, and bless
The Pow'rs who grant Success!

The Trumpets, Kettle-Drums, Hoboys, &c. begin a Warlike Movement. Enter several Scythian Soldiers, with Ensigns, Standards and other Trophies, and leading several Persian Prisoners, and Cleora last, attended by Media.
Tho.
Soldiers, stay, and, e're you go,
Leave with me that Female Foe!

[The Soldiers having left Cleora, march and Exeunt.
Cleora unveils.
Cleo.
Feast, Thomyris, feast your Eyes
With a weak, tho' Royal Prize!

Oron.
Guard me Heav'n! what Charms I view,
Charms, that Conqu'rors may subdue!
[Aside.
Quai bellezze, o Dei, veggio,
Ond'e vinto il vincitore!

Cleo.
Shou'd the Foe no Favour find,
To the Virgin yet be kind!
You'll perhaps but lend to Day
What Cleora may repay.
AIR.

Tho.
Mov'd with Pity, not with Fear,
Princess, we the Yielding spare.
Let an ambitious restless Foe,
Be proud of universal Woe.
Whoe'er true Greatness understood
Knows, to be great is to be good,—
Honour'd, safe, and serv'd like me,
In Scythia then remain.
The Court your only Prison be,
Your Word your only Chain.
AIR.

[Exit Thom. and Attendants.
Oron.
By my Royal Mother chear'd,
What, bright Princess, can be fear'd?
Firm in Protection, and in Love,
To save and bless is all her Aim.
Gracious, like the Pow'rs above,
And, like 'em, Still the Same.
Principessa piu vezzosa
Delle Stelle, che temete?
S'affidata ne'l amore
Di mia Madre gia voi siete,
Como Spirito immortale,
Sempre dessa, é Sempre equale.
AIR.

“Cleo.
Thankful for your kind Relief,
“Yet untun'd for Joy by Grief,
“Let me, gen'rous Prince, compose
“A Breast still mov'd, tho' eas'd of stormy Woes!

“Oron.
I must leave you—Yet I'll view,—
“Oh! I must tear my self from you.
“We lose with Ease, by Beauty's Charms,
“What with Toil we got by Arms;
“The Fair, subdu'd, a sweeter Conquest gains,
“And the Proud Victor wears the Captive's Chains.
AIR.
[Exit Orontes.

Da Capo.
Cleo.
He's gone—'tis well—not all my Pride
Cou'd my Disorder hide.
Ye Pow'rs, Oh! whether shall I move?
From War's Alarms, I turn to those of Love.

AIR.
Med.
Never let your Heart despair,
While the Gods with Charms have crown'd you.
Tho' designing Foes surround you,
Spight and Envy cannot wound you.
Innocence shall guard the Fair.
Never let, &c.

Cleo.
I chide my panting Heart in vain
I feel a soft, a strange Emotion reign;
And dread, yet love the Pleasure, and the Pain.
AIR.
[Exit Cleora.
AIR, that may be sung instead of the foregoing.

“Med.
Armenia's Prince, Tigranes, now in vain
“May strive Cleora's Heart to gain.
“What on him Cyrus would bestow,
“Is doubly conquer'd by his Foe.

Enter Baldo.
Bald.
Fair Damsel, if it is a Fault
T'intrude upon a Virgin's Thought,
Let, from the Prince, this precious Stone,
From me, this precious Heart atone.

Med.
Fair-speaking Sir, 'tis well addrest.
I, for the Ring, excuse the rest.

Bald.
To gain by yours, your Lady's Favour,
Is a young Lover's first Endeavour.
And, when the Pair of Turtles coo,
Baldo the trusty Squire, and you,
In Course know what we have to do.

Med.
I'll serve the Prince; and, as for you,
I guess you have not much to do.

AIR.
Bald.
My Delight, my Dear, my Princess!
With Desire I lose my Senses.
I before you feel with Fury
My Blood hurry
Thro' ev'ry Vein:
Like a Dart
I feel a Smart,
And something tickle at my Heart.
Dying thus who can complain?
I had vow'd to play the Rover,
Fool with Love, or give it over:
But who can, tho' grave and wise,
'Scape those Dimples, Lips and Eyes!
Then, to bless you,
I'll address you,
Press you, kiss you, and caress you;
'Till like me, you cry, 'Tis vain,
Oh! my Dear, to frown and feign:
Dying thus, who can complain!

Med.
Hold! how dare you be so urging?
Would you ravish here a Virgin?
Think you for your Ring I'll bear it?
There it is—But I'll never wear it.
[She makes an Offer to give him back the Ring, and at his Approach puts it up again.
AIR.

Bald.
I'll be constant, never fear!
Tho' that's strangely out of Fashion.
If you doubt me, come, my Dear,
Take an Earnest of my Passion!

AIR.
Med.
Prithee leave me! presume not to court me!

Bald.
Pray relieve me, or do not transport me!

Med.
You so tire me, that I must fly.

Bald.
You so fire me, that I must try.

Med.
You're so teizing.

Bald.
You're so pleasing.

Med.
So presuming.

Bald.
So consuming.

Med.
So affrighting, that I must fly.

Bald.
So delighting, that I must try.

Med.
Tho' Bees may the Sweets be sharing,
Which they're repairing,
Empty Drones deserve
To starve.

Bald.
Like the Bees those Sweets be sharing,
Still repairing.
Empty Drones
Alone should starve.

[She retires and goes off, Baldo following her all the while.

SCENE III.

A Prison.
Tigranes is discover'd in Chains, with a Letter which he has been writing. He rises.
AIR.
Tigr.
Enter Keeper.
[Gives him a Letter.
[Exit Keeper.

AIR.
In vain is complaining:
The Way of obtaining
Is bravely to dare!
Fate ease me!
Release me!
My Passion so rages,
Success it engages,
Or noble Despair.
In vain is complaining:
The Way of obtaining
Is bravely to dare.

[Exit Tigranes.

SCENE IV.

A Palace.
Enter Thomyris.
AIR.
Tho.
Cares, on a Crown attending,
How pressing is your Weight!
Crouds to the Great are bending;
But Cares command the Great:
Cares, on a Crown attending,
How pressing is your Weight!

Enter Orontes.
Oron.
How pleas'd were I, cou'd I but share,
Tho' not your Empire, yet your Care?
Qual piacer, se dividesti
Pene meco si moleste!

Tho.
I thank your Love—But oh! my Son,
When you, the Hopes of Scythia, run
Into the Dangers others shun,
The Nation fears; I grieve unseen;
And, in the Mother, lose the Queen.
“Then wisely temper and controul
“That noble Ardour of your Soul.

“Oron.
When you, Great Queen, in Souls inspire
“Your more than Amazonian Fire,
“Shall I not dare? and with Applause?
“For such a Queen, and such a Cause?

“Tho.
Two Hundred Thousand Persians still
“Our Plains with War and Horror fill.
Our Troops are few; but those to join
The King of Pontus does incline.
The Pledge of Union is to be
His beauteous Daughter, blest with thee.
For this the People sue, this now the State demands;
The Mother counsels; but the Queen commands.

“Oron.
Tho' the Subject must comply,
“Great Queen, oh! grant a short Reprieve;
“Yet averse to such a Tye,
“To the Son some Moments give,
“To strive not to deny.

“Tho.
Think—But know, superior Fate
“Dooms the Great
“To be Victims to the State.
Exit Thom.

“Oron.
Victims indeed—
You Pow'rs above!
Oh! must I sacrifice my Love!

Enter Cleora.
Oron.
But see! she comes—Oh! how she charms!
How struggling Reason she disarms!
Forgive, forgive, you Rules of State!
I yield to Her, and Fate.
Her very Silence is persuading.
There is no Choice, when she's invading.
Ahi! convien tradir l'amore.
Ma s'en viene. O come è bella!
Contro amor non val ragione.
Deh! voi massime di stato,
Perdonate! io cedo al fato.

Cleo.
Oh! my Blushes will reve al
The Flame I wou'd conceal.

Oron.
Lovely Princess, oh! forgive me!
Turn not from me, do not leave me,
With a pitying Look reprieve me!
Press'd from you my Heart to tear,
I grow daring by Despair.
Deh! Mia bella, ah! perdonate!
Non fugite, e consolate
Con un guardo l'amor mio!
Il veder di speme un raggio
Mi da forza, e piu coraggio.
“With one Look my Flame approve,
“And I swear Eternal Love.

“Cleo.
Ah! Prince.

“Oron.
Speak, my Goddess! speak my Fate:
“I dread nothing, but your Hate.

“Cleo.
Cease a Passion to pursue,
“That too soon may both undo.
“By warring Pow'rs to other Loves design'd,
“Will they bear to see us join'd?
“Ah! no, the lost Cleora leave,
“Who only dares to grieve.

Cleo.
Ah Prince, I must not hear—you must not stay.
I shall gaze my Heart away.

[Aside.
AIR.
Oron.
A lover near despairing,
Bright Charmer must be daring.
His Flame he cannot smother,
Nor can he love another:
He must alone implore you,
Alone adore you.
A Lover, &c.
Amante disperato,
Al fato oppone il core.
Osi cimenti, e pera
Quel alma, che non spera
I frutti dell' amore!
Amante, &c.

Da Capo.
“Oron.
Do but suffer me to Love,
“And leave the rest to Fate:
“I'm blest enough, if you approve,
“But wretched if you hate.

“Cleo.
Partial Trial: forc'd Denial!
[Aside.
“Pride dissembles; Reason trembles.
Be firm, my Mind! Maintain a Sov'reigns Part!
Let the Head controul the Heart!

AIR.
Let us fly, let us fly our Undoing!
Love allures us; but Reason denies.
Those are caught, who the Chace are pursuing:
But she's safe, and may conquer, who flies.
Let us fly, let us fly our Undoing:
Love allures us, but Reason denies.

[Exeunt.