Mariamne A tragedy |
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| 6. | SCENE VI. |
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 | Mariamne |  |
SCENE VI.
MARIAMNE, NARBAL.Mariamne.
Oh happiness!
Thou gawdy bubble, which deludes the grasp,
Whene'er we strive to keep thee most secure.
Have I been fond of Fortune's faithless smile,
Cruel, disdainful, to deserve this doom?
Did e'er I suffer pride to bar my ear
Against the widow's cry? Did e'er I view
The weeping orphan's anguish, and with-hold
The hand of liberal Mercy from their woes?
Or did I with uncharitable scorn
Ever upbraid the childless womb; or wish
The wrathful blast of heav'n t' attaint the fruit
Of my most deadly foe?—Whence then to me
This undeserv'd distress? Why must I bear
So deep a wound in such a tender part?
More wretched than the meanest of my sex,
Who call me Queen! they lose the cares of life,
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A bliss deny'd to me!
Nar.
When foreign foes
Are quell'd by Cæsar, and the provinces
Avow their homage to the laws of Rome,
And with consummate peace his arms are crown'd;
The Prince will be restor'd; and in exchange
Some of our noblest youth will be receiv'd
For hostages of friendship.
Mar.
That exchange
Will come too late to bless my longing eyes:
They'll first be clos'd in death! a thousand ills
Rise in black views to my divining soul!
[Arsinoe enters with the Prince.
And must I lose thee?—Oh!—thou sweetest pledge
Of heaven's indulgence to a mother's pray'r!
Must the sole comfort of my cares become
The cause of endless grief? alas! no more
Must I with tender transport clasp thee thus!
No more must these desiring eyes be fix'd
In silent joy, with gazing on thy charms!—
Arsinoe, oh! support me—I've a son
To think on only, and to pay a tear
For every wounding thought! O Narbal—now
Obey the King, by whom the dearer names
Of husband, and of father are forgot!
Obey the King! let the rude hand of pow'r
Tear from my breast the blossom of my joys—
Yet, let me bless him—All thy wants of me
May pitying Angels with their aid supply!
Waft all thy pray'rs to heav'n! which heav'n approve,
And crown with blessings of eternal love!
[Exeunt.
| Mariamne | |