University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

SCENE A Garden.
Enter Cleora.
Cleo.
Love in Absence finds no Ease;
Crouds, diverting, but displease:
This dark, this melancholick Grove
Suits my Sadness, and my Love.
Ye feather'd Songsters, round me flying,
Courting,
Sporting,
Care defying;
Oh! did you but feel my Anguish,
Soon you'd change your Notes, and languish.
AIR.

Enter Thomyris.
“Tho.
aside.
While chosen Bands, by young Orontes led,
“Press the retreating Foe,
‘Who, from our growing Army, dread
“A fatal Blow;
“I come as great a Danger to remove;
“And save him from the Harms of Love.—
“She's here; I'll strive to know
“If she loves him.—
“To Cleora.]
Will you still your Fate bemoan?
“Still indulge your Grief alone?

Tho.
Lov'd and cherish'd every where,
What should pain you, grieving Fair?
Sure you mourn an absent Lover.

Cleo.
aside.
Oh! my Looks my Flame discover.

Tho.
Ev'n your Blushes I will spare:
I'll be kind beyond desiring.
Since now before my Son I hear
Persia's Army is retiring,
For your Return you may prepare.
Tho' Justice might restrain you,
Clemency will not detain you.

Cleo.
aside.
Cruel Kindness!

Tho.
apart.
Her Looks her Love betray.
To her.]
Are you not pleas'd?

Cleo.
Oh! with Favours now you pain me.
How shall I my Debt repay!
So much you bless,
It griev'd me less
To be confin'd, than now to go away.
“Ev'n your Foes, admiring, share
“The Blessings of your gentle Sway:
“Thrice happy those, who ever here
“Your lov'd Commands obey!
“AIR.

“Tho.
How slavish must those Spirits be,
“Who lose the very Sense of Liberty!
“Blest Freedom, lost are those who lose thee,
“Doubly lost those who refuse thee.
AIR.

Cleo.
Thus obliging, you undo.
What is Freedom, losing you?

AIR.
Tho.
When Duty's requiring,
How sweet is obeying,
How fatal delaying?

Cleo.
Your Virtues admiring,
How sweet is delaying,
Our Moments repaying?

Tho.
In vain do you press me!
Oh why do you press me?

Cleo.
Oh why do you press me?
Detain me to bless me.
How sweet, &c.

[Exeunt Thom. and Cleo.
Enter Media, follow'd by Baldo in a warlike Habit.
AIR.
Bald.
Halt! when Love and Honour calls you.
Tho' some other might maul you,
No harm now can befal you,
Your Anger takes me down.
Take my Heart, my Love to crown.
Let me garrison the Town;
Then, then, let me hang or drown.

Med.
Follow your Prince! Go join his Army!
Dare to be kill'd, and then, then, then, you'll charm me.

Bald.
I stay'd behind, from him to bear
A Message to his Princely Fair.

Med.
You have your Answer:
What more d'ye want, Sir?

Bald.
Some kind Token of your Favour;
And then your Soldier's made for ever.

AIR.
Med.
Can you leave ranging?—No
Ne'er think of changing?—No.
And constant grow.—No.
Reform and marry—No.
In Love ne'er vary.—No.
You'd soon grow weary,
And from me go.
You'd wish to leave me.
I'd wish to leave you.
You would deceive me.
I would deceive you.
Your Fate you know.
Can you leave ranging, and constant grow? &c.

Bald.
in Imitation of Media,
I'd ne'er grow weary.—No.
Nor from you go.—No.

Med.
Will nothing fright you out of Love?
Then know, I'll ne'er your Flame approve.
What e'er of Constant Love is said;
Of the dull Whim we're all afraid.
Our Flame we must smother,
When tir'd of each other.
AIR.

[Exit.
Bald.
Who knows where to have her!
In vain I endeavour.
Oh! I cou'd rail; I cou'd rave; I cou'd curse;
I cou'd wed her for Spight—I cou'd—never do worse.
No; wisely I'll go,
And turn my Fury on the Foe.
Tho' wild, like Fortune, now I find her,
My brave Exploits may make her kinder.
AIR.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Royal Tent.
Orontes sleeping, and chain'd. Guards about him.
After a short piece of Instrumental Musick, proper for a Sleep.
Enter Tigranes.
Tigr.
“He sleeps! still Happy, spight of Fate.
“Of Quiet he partakes;
“Kind Dreams upon his Slumbers wait.
“I envy him this easie State.
“The Jealous ever wakes.—
Wake, Orontes! wake, arise!

[Orontes awakes; and, looking about, starts up in a great Surprise.
Oro.
Ha! sure I dream—What Objects strike my Eyes!
To Arms—My Sword—Ha! Chain'd—
Tigranes here!—
My Fellow Soldiers!—
Ah! ch'io sogno—che remiro—
Strano oggetto! all'armi, all'armi.
La mia Spada—Ahi! son legato—
Qui Tigrane!—Miei Soldati!—

Tigr.
Surpriz'd, like you, Death, or your Chains they share.
Retreating Cyrus, press'd by you,
His Camp did to the Foe resign,
With Dainties stor'd, and treach'rous Wine,
Your Scythians to subdue.
Lethargic Drugs, mix'd with the gen'rous Juice,
Soon did to Sleep your wearied Troops reduce:
“With Ease a Grave they found in every Bed;
“Buried in Wine and Sleep, already like the Dead.

Oro.
Oh! Fraud alone of Vict'ry cou'd deprive 'em.
Kill me! Why shou'd I survive 'em?
Coll'arte sol tu vincergli potevi
Se l'opra uvoi compir, me pure uccidi!

Tigr.
Brave Orontes, you must live.

Oro.
No; I hate the Life you give.
No; se tu me la doni, odio la vita.

Tigr.
Live.

Oro.
No; let me die.
No lascia, chio mora.

Tigr.
Live, from Revenge Cleora to retrieve.

Oro.
Oh! her Name forces a Reprieve.
Ah! questo nome sol mi chiama in vita.

Tigr.
Promise to resign the Fair,
And now I'll set you free.

Oro.
Death, or Slav'ry, let me bear;
But claim her not of me!
Ch'io la ceda? mai non fia.
Morte, e catene soffriro ben pria.
“Fate enough to you is kind;
“You're free, approv'd, and I confin'd.

“Tigr.
Who knows what Fate designs!
“I dread too sudden Joys.
“When the glitt'ring Lightning shines,
“Soon the Thunderbolt destroys.
AIR.

“Oro.
The same my Passions, worse my Woes:
“My Fair, and Fate, my Joys oppose.
“Let Valor then the double Cause decide;
“Honour's first, then Love's be try'd.
“By Orosmades by the Sun I swear,
“To her own Choice, I'll leave the Fair.
“First release me, as I freed you,
“Then let me fall, if she's decreed you.

Tigr.
“Be wise, comply!
“Resolve, no more to love her, or to die.

Oron.
Without her, Life no Joys can give.
No more to love her! 'tis no more to live.
Senza lei, piacer non sento.
Se non l'amo, piu non vivo.

Oron.
No more to love her!
Ah, no! I'll ne'er give over.
E're I comply,
I'll die.
I prize no Joy above her.
Love chains my fond Heart.
In vain from her you tear me:
We ne'er can part.
She's here, she's ever near me.
No more, &c.
Ch'io piu non l'ami!
Ah! no: morro ben pria.
Vorrebbe i cor,
No nol potra mai.
Ella e crudel;
Ma che piu bella assai:
Ell' e infedel;
Lo so; ma cio non fia.

[Da Capo.
Tigr.
Honour has conquer'd: Gen'rous Foe,
Take Liberty, the Debt I owe.

[The Guards set Orontes free.
Oro.
I thank Tigranes: Tho' now Life's a Pain.
Like Friends we'll part, like Foes to meet again.
Benche il viver sia tormento,
O Tigrane, io ti ringrazia.
Amici or Siam, ci rividrem nemici.

Tigr.
I no Hopes can discover.

Oron.
I despair, yet I love her.

Both.
Like War's are Love's Alarms:
Tho' Fatal are the Charms,
Who can give over?
In van sospiro, e bramo.
Non posso piu sperar;
E pur io amo.

Exeunt severally.

SCENE III.

A Palace.
Enter Media, Baldo.
Med.
The grieving Princess to revive,
Is there no Hope, he's yet alive?

Bald.
Oh! Let the losing World complain.
Scythias's Brave Prince, our other Hope is slain.
Tho' great Numbers 'scap'd by Flight,
He, with the rest, fell in the Night.
While with our Queen the Nation mourns,
Grief to revengeful Fury turns.
Our Troops, of whom the Van alone
Forc'd Persia's Camp, then were by Fraud o'erthrown,
Now more wary grown,
Retreat, but to give the Foe
A nobler Overthrow.

Med.
The Princess comes—Away—you might enrage
The grief I wou'd asswage.

[Exit. Bald.
Enter Cleora.
AIR.
Cleo.
VVhy must Sorrow for ever attend me,
Never end me!
How long must I crave
For Death, and the Grave!
Hopes are lost—What I mourn
Can ne'er return.
Life's all Anguish:
We but Languish,
And our Loss deplore,
When Love is no more.

Med.
Why shou'd you crave
For Death and the Grave?
Old Maids in Despair
All Hopes may give over.
But the Young, and the Fair,
Chuse Life, and a Lover.
AIR.

Cleora goes out, and Media follows her, singing to her.
[Exeunt.
Enter Thomyris.
Tho.
Weep no more! or weep unseen,
Hopeless Mother; mournful Queen!
Tho' deepest in a Royal Brest,
Woe must be born, yet not exprest.
Oh! thou, my only Hope, my Son,
While I retire to weep alone,
Nobler mourning Scythia owing,
Shall with her Tears see Persian Blood o'erflowing.
AIR,

Enter Media, who throws her self hastily at the Queen's Feet.
Med.
Help! Gracious Queen! Grant Innocence Relief.

Tho.
Who dares intrude on Royal Grief?

Med.
Oh! Pardon! In this dreadful Hour,
Be Great in Mercy, as in Pow'r!
Unless you save, Cleora dies,
Devoted by the Crowd, an impious Sacrifice.

Tho.
Oh! She less wretched yet than I!
But Justice bids me intervene:
The weak from Lawless Rage to free,
And still exert the Queen.
Like the Thunder, Guilt alarming,
Royal Frowns the World can awe.
“Heav'n with Pow'r our Hands is arming
“To maintain, and give the Law.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

A Temple.
Enter Cleora as a Victim, Priests, and People.
Cleo.
Hear ye Scythians, e'er I fall!
Heav'n, hear a Royal Victim's Call.
Ye Pow'rs, my welcome Death forgive!
To meet my Love, my Soul is flying.
Since for him I could not live,
With Joy for him I'm dying.

Enter Thomyris, Guards, Media, and other Attendants.
Tho.
Forbear!—Hold your Impious Hand!
Resign the Royal Maid! 'Tis I command.—
Guards! To my Tent attend her.—
When I Protect, who dares offend her?

Cleo.
Why must I thank you for the Life I hate?
Great Queen, how wretched is my Fate!

[Ex. Cleora, Media, and some Guards.
Tho.
Then what is mine! Was ever known
So griev'd a Mother, or so dear a Son!
He's lost; not vanquish'd, but betray'd.
My Hope, my Joy, my Son, my Darling's dead!
Scythians, here our Loss bewailing,
See my Tears,
Hear my Pray'rs!
Join, join with me till they're prevailing.

Tho.
kneels.]
YE Pow'rs! I for Vengeance call!
Let the Grand Oppressor fall.
Punish our invading Foes,
Revenge our Wrongs, and give the World Repose.
A Shout.]
Hark! This joyful Scythian Shout
Declares the Persian Rout.
'Tis done, Avenging Pow'rs! 'Tis done.
And ev'ry Persian Mother mourns a Son.
AIR.

[Ex. Thom. and the People shout and Ex.

SCENE V.

The Field.
Enter Tigranes in disorder, his Sword in his Hand, as from Fight.
Tigr.
All is lost: A hopeless Flight
Succeeds the desperate Fight.
Cyrus, glutted now with Blood,
Swells with his own the Purple Flood.
Barr'd a Retreat, in vain the Persians fly;
In vain they Scythian Mercy try:
I both disdain; and wou'd but bravely die.
AIR.

Enter a Party of Scythian Soldiers, whom Tigranes engages till he is wounded; and Orontes enters.
Oro.
Hold! Scythians!—Let a nobler Fate—
Sciti, fermate il pie. Piu nobil Fato—

Tigr.
Victorious Prince, you come too late—
Yet enough you Fatal prove,
And doubly kill me, in Cleora's Love.

Oro.
Oh! Live! Tho' for her to contend—
Vivi per contrastarmi il suo possesso.

Tigr.
Too near my End,
That Comfort Fate denies.

Oro.
Yet strive to live—Help! bear hence
The wounded Prince,
And save a Life a Prize.
The Soldiers lead off Tigranes.
Voi soccorrete il Principe ferito,
E una vita, ch'io stimo a lai serbate.

Ex. Tigranes and Soldiers.
Enter Baldo.
Bald.
Hail! Prince, who the Day retriev'd,
Who came, and sav'd, when lost believ'd!
To your Valor Vict'ry's owing.
See our Tears with Joy now flowing:
Soon your Sight the Queen will cheer,
And the Princess—

Oro.
Oh! She's here.
Oh! lei sen viene.

Enter Cleora.
AIR.
Cleo.
I revive now you're returning,
All my Mourning
Is lost in Joy.
Oh! I ne'er can bear the Pleasure.
Sorrow pain'd above all Measure;
Joyful Transports now destroy.

Re-enter Tigranes supported.
“Cleo.
Oh! Like a fatal Dart,
“Surprize, and Pity wound my Heart.
“Tigranes!—who this Sight can bear!

“Tig.
Oh! you o'er-pay me with a Tear.
“You give Pleasure in Despair.
“I must leave you.
“I'll not grieve you.
“To Superior Merit due,
“While Life and you I lose, let others for you live.
“When a pitying Tear you give,
“'Tis more to die for you.

Cleo.
Unhappy Prince!

Exit. Tigranes supported.
Enter Thomyris.
Oro.
The Queen!
[Kneels.
La Regina.

Tho.
My Son!
Oh! rise! thou Guardian of my Throne!

Oro.
No! Let me rooted here remain,
Till I from you new Life obtain.
Can I without Cleora live?
Life without Love no Joy can give.
No, lasciate, chio non posso
Viver mai senza Cleora.
Chi sa viver senza amare
Non sa viver, ma penare.

Tho.
Rise! be happy;
I comply.

Oro.
Oh! now you drown my Soul with Joy.
O qual gioia il cor m'inonda!

AIR.
Tho.
Pleasure calls: Fond Hearts recover!
Fears are over.
Let the Lover
At last enjoy.
May the Passion sweetly pain you,
Kindly chain you,
And never cloy.

Oron.
Soul of Pleasure, now to you
I for Life again must sue.
The Queen permits Possessing;
But Heav'n, and you, must grant the Blessing.
Or dimando a voi la vita,
Mio Tesor! Doppo Tomiri
Tocca al Cielo, e tocca a voi
D'accordarla a i miei desiri.

“Cleo.
Oh! ask no more what Fate's denying.
“Let me rather share the Ruin
“All my Persian Friends pursuing,
“Than blush at my complying.

“Oron.
Oh! Reprieve me.

“Cleo.
Leave me! Leave me!

“Med.
When of Friends War has bereft me,
“Will you lose the last that's left you!

“Cleo.
Hope's denied me.

“Oron.
Then I must no longer sue.
“Adieu! Adieu, to Life, and you.

[Going.
“Cleo.
Oh! Mortal Anguish! Oh! my Fears!
“Stay! 'tis more than Death to lose you.
Give me Time to dry my Tears.
I wou'd, but Love cannot refuse you.

Oron.
Oh, Joy! Oh, Blessing!
Past expressing.
Dolce gioia! indicibil piacere!

AIR,
Cleo.
Lost in Pleasure,
Love beguiling,
Oh! you disarm me.

Oron.
Oh, my Treasure!
Kindly Smiling,
Oh! how you charm me.
Oh! mia vita!
Oh! mia speme!
Oh! mio Tesoro!

“Tho.
Bless the Pow'rs that grant the Blessing!

“Med.
Let the wond'ring World applaud!

“Oron.
Share our Joys, all Hearts possessing;

“All.
Lov'd at Home, and fear'd Abroad.

CHORUS.
Love and Vertue the Conquest obtain.
Peace shall last;
Freedom by Union shall gain:
All Danger is past.
Victorious,
And Glorious,
Astrea's Reign
The Blessings shall maintain.