Thomyris, Queen of Scythia :: :: University of Virginia Library

Thomyris, Queen of Scythia

An Opera

Motteux, Peter Anthony (1660-1718)

THOMYRIS, QUEEN of SCYTHIA.

SCENE I.

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

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.

From Scythian Bonds, to Persia's Court,
Oh! how shall I return?
Must I, alas! be Fortune's Sport,
And only live to mourn?

AIR.

Freedom, thou greatest Blessing,
Why have I lost thy Joys?
Pining, no Rest possessing,
Grief all my Hours employs.
Thy Loss now to my Eyes
A Flood of Tears will cost:

Oh! why do we not prize
Our Treasure 'till 'tis lost!
Freedom, &c.

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.

Ever merry,
Gay and airy,
Be adjourning
Care and Mourning!
Sorrow never comes too late;
We're impairing
By Despairing.
We're improving,
Care removing.
Then be happy, spite of Fate!
Ever merry, &c.

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.

What should alarm me?
No Foe can harm me.
Let Virtue arm me;
Fears will be vain.
Yet, Freedom wanting,
My Breast they're haunting;
My Heart is panting,
I live in Pain.
What should, &c.

Pray Note, That throughout the Opera whatever is mark'd thus “with double Comma's in the Margent is left out, to shorten the Performance.