University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

An open Place in the City of Sinope, before the Portico of the Temple of Themis.
ARTABANES, TIGRANES.
TIGRANES.
Hail to my friend, by whose successful cares,
The peace of Pontus on the firm foundation
Of royal faith is fix'd, for ages fix'd.
From the tall citadel's commanding summit,
Advancing swiftly to the Eastern gate,
I saw the Cappadocian troops approach
In shining arms.—Their nearest files, ere this,
By Athridates led, have gain'd the city.

ARTABANES.
No longer hostile, to the passing winds
His people's father, brave Pharnaces, gives
His past resentment, and prepares to meet
With every public, every martial honour,
Due to a monarch, hero, father, friend,
The royal Athridates.

TIGRANES.
At the altar
Their sacred faith exchang'd, all-beauteous concord
Prepares a fairer wreathe than that of conquest,
To bind their peaceful brows.

ARTABANES.
Belov'd of Heav'n,
The gentle power descends, with placid mien,
To bless with milder joys our monarch's reign.

TIGRANES.
With public happiness, for him, the gods
Propitious have entwin'd the heart-felt bliss
Which waits the soft affections. From this hour
(No longer by conflicting duties torn)
The queen to heaven prefers her ardent vows;
Vows which a husband and a father share.

ARTABANES.
Even at this moment, when the imperfect dawn
Just tinges with a faint and trembling lustre
The gilded turrets of yon holy fane,
She seeks the righteous power. The names belov'd
Of Athridates and Pharnaces rise
In rapturous gratulations, at the shrine
Of tutelary Themis. As she pass'd,
I mark'd the triumph which with heighten'd grace
Adorn'd her lovely form: she seem'd to scorn
The earth she trod on, and entranc'd with joy
To press with lighter step the balmy air.

TIGRANES.
Her mind, unruffled with the threatening storm,
Which hung so late o'er these devoted walls,
Resumes its wonted greatness.

ARTABANES.
All the strength
Of manly wisdom, mix'd with woman's sweetness,
In her fair soul in bright assemblage meet;
Soft as the doves in Cytherea's car,
Yet lofty as th' imperial eagle's flight.
But 'tis the hour, when, by the king's command,
I join th' approaching train. Meanwhile 'tis thine
Around these lofty walls with care to range
Thy chosen files, and guard the sacred portal.

SCENE II.

Tigranes
speaks as the Scene changes.
The temple gates unfold, and, see! the queen,
Bright as Aurora, rising in the east!
What mingled graces! Thus the Cyprian goddess,
Drest by the smiling loves, and festive hours,
On blue Olympus' starry height appears.

Scene draws to solemn Music, and discovers the Inside of the Temple—the Pillars adorned with festoons of flowers—an Altar burning, crowned with Wreaths of Olive—Orontes, Priests, and Virgins in white, ranged on each side—Thamyris standing by the Altar.
THAMYRIS.
All righteous Themis! to thy name we pour
The song of gratitude! By thee sweet peace
Spreads her soft wings around us; fast beside
Thy sacred altar the fair wanderer rests:
Yet not her choicest gifts, not Pontus sav'd,
Would fill my vows, if, by the goddess led,
Great Athridates came not. Once again
My filial arms shall press a much lov'd father;
Again his child, his Thamyris, shall see
The smile paternal on his aged cheek,
And hear his voice in blessings. Ye, my virgins,
Bring the fresh flow'rets of the lovely spring,
To strew his honour'd path.

ORONTES.
The monarchs come:
Ere this they have embrac'd, and bend their steps
To this propitious shrine.—Ye holy train,
Prepare the rites, prepare the sacred cup,
A pure libation to th' attesting gods,
The pledge of future concord. Raise the strain
To awful Themis, arbitress of kings.
[As Orontes approaches the altar, and the orchestra begin the accompanyment, loud thunder is heard on the left—the temple shakes—the flames on the altar are suddenly extinguished, and the whole scene darkened.]
Avert these omens, heaven!

THAMYRIS.
Immortal powers!
If with pure heart, and will to heaven resign'd,
I sought this holy fane, protect and pardon
Your trembling votary. Speak your awful purpose.

SCENE III.

THAMYRIS, ARTABANES, ORONTES, Priests and Virgins.
ARTABANES.
Break off, break off, your inauspicious rites!
With heav'n the impious Athridates wars:
The Romans, foes profest of human kind,
Abet his perfidy. The king awhile
Retards his progress, but I fear in vain:
Sinope streams with blood. With festive songs,
Unarm'd, and crown'd with wreaths of peaceful olive,
Our unsuspecting warriors met his steps,
And rush'd on death: nor helpless infancy,
Nor trembling age escapes: on to the palace,
The murderer hews his way.

THAMYRIS.
Ha! to the palace!
Is my child safe! quick, answer—spare, oh spare
A parent's anguish.

ARTABANES.
By the king's command,
The valiant Gordias, with a chosen band,
Protects his innocence.

ORONTES.
Illustrious mourner!
Leave to the gods thy righteous cause; their power
Can strike the faulchion from th' uplifted arm,
And wither every nerve.

THAMYRIS.
O! didst thou know
A mother's fears—her agonizing terrors,
E'en when no danger threats! Alarm'd she hears
The rushing whirlwind in the zephyr's breath,
If absent from her offspring; let me fly
And clasp him to my bosom; there alone
My fears will think him safe.

SCENE IV.

ORONTES, TIGRANES, and Priests.
TIGRANES.
Rever'd Orontes,
I sought the queen; from yonder scene of horror
I flew to guard her steps.

ORONTES.
Brave Artabanes
Conducts her to the palace.—But our monarch!
Pharnaces! Does he live?

TIGRANES.
With matchless valor
He stems the tide of battle; but too soon
Th' unequal conflict ends! Surpriz'd, betray'd,
A prey to basest perfidy, he falls;
And Rome and Athridates rule in Pontus.
Farewel: this sword may yet assist my prince.

ORONTES.
Say to the king, the gods are friends to truth:
Let him remember, keen Adversity
Is Virtue's healthful school: to-morrow's dawn
May see this tyrant, whose perfidious bosom,
With impious daring, mocks the sacred vow,
Prostrate on earth, confess the gods are just.
Retire, whilst here the ministers of heaven,
Submissive, deprecate the wrath divine.

[Scene closes.

SCENE V.

An Apartment in the Palace.
PHARNACES, THAMYRIS, meeting.
THAMYRIS.
My lord! my life! do I again behold thee?
At sight of thee, my terrors all are vanish'd,
Like darkness at the morning's orient beam.

PHARNACES.
Clear rose that orient beam, to set in blood!
And is it thus we meet? O Thamyris!
Thy impious father! But I would not grieve thee.

THAMYRIS.
Canst thou forgive me!—Cruel Athridates!
Why art thou leagued with Rome, whose fell ambition
Spurns Nature's laws, and points the father's sword
E'en at his children's bosoms?

PHARNACES.
Though defeated,
I am not conquer'd; still the mighty spirit
Of Mithridates animates this bosom.
One hope remains: beneath Sinope's walls,
My choicest troops, encamp'd, expect with ardour
Their monarch's presence, as the happy signal
Of conquest and revenge. The gods may give me
To tear the laurel from the faithless brows
Of Rome and Cappadocia, and to strike
The vengeful faulchion to the tyrant's heart.

THAMYRIS.
For me what hope remains? a husband, father,
Arm'd to destroy each other. My lov'd lord!
By the fond passion which unites our souls,
Let me adjure thee, by the rolling years
Of faith unspotted, go not to the field.

PHARNACES.
Soul of my life, forbear! the present moment
Is all the fates allow; I must not hear thee.
Is this a time for softness, when Revenge
Presents her flaming sword, with blood distain'd,
And summons me away! the minutes call:
E'en while I speak, my guiltless people perish:
Terror and death round Athridates stalk;
If soften'd by thy tears my purpose slackens,
'Tis past, and Pontus falls.

THAMYRIS.
Inhuman, go;
Haste to the warring camp, and leave me here,
The savage conqueror's prey; leave thy Eumenes,
Thy helpless son, with me to drag a chain,
To grace the victor's car, and soothe the pride
Of impious Rome.

PHARNACES.
Thy words have rous'd a serpent.
But heaven inspires! Yes! I will save you both.

THAMYRIS.
Then thou wilt stay, and guard with pious care
The palace of thy fathers—guard thy son!
Thy wife! thy people! who with ardent eyes
Look up to thee for safety.

PHARNACES.
On this sword,
Stain'd with the blood of perfidy and fraud—

THAMYRIS.
Why dost thou tremble! say what dreadful purpose.

PHARNACES.
My queen! my best belov'd—to awful Themis,
Protectress of the injur'd, on this sword
Swear to obey whate'er commands the gods
By me impose.

THAMYRIS.
I swear, by awful Themis,
Protectress of the injur'd!

PHARNACES.
Heaven may give me
To conquer in a cause which every god
Must sure approve: but if the haughty eagles
Here bend their fatal flight: if heaven decrees
The subject-world must weep in chains, to glut
Rome's merciless ambition: if Pharnaces
From yonder field, where hope expands her wing,
Returns a breathless corse; or, vanquish'd, leaves thee
A helpless captive in the victor's power—
How shall I speak the rest? See'st thou this dagger?
A husband's last, best gift.

THAMYRIS.
Thou hast divin'd
My soul's unshaken purpose. Thamyris
Will die a queen, and free.

PHARNACES.
Yet there is more.
Now steel thy soul, for I shall wound it deep!
Eumenes!

THAMYRIS.
My child?—Thou canst not mean—

PHARNACES.
Shall he, the royal heir of mighty kings—
A line of heroes—at the conqueror's wheels
Drag a vile chain, a spectacle of scorn
Through Rome's insulting streets? Could'st thou, expiring,
Leave him in Roman bonds?

THAMYRIS.
The dreadful image
Chills every source of life.

PHARNACES.
If Rome prevails,
Deep in his infant bosom plunge that steel,
And save him from dishonour!
[Thamyris faints.
Ha! she dies!
The blood forsakes her cheek! What have I done?
Too far I urg'd her heart.

THAMYRIS.
[Recovering.]
Where is Eumenes!
I thought—but 'twas a dream! Ah! no—that dagger—
The dire remembrance flashes on my soul;
Pharnaces, could thy hand?—Alas, he knows not
A mother's tenderness.

PHARNACES.
Like thee a parent,
I love my child, e'en with a mother's fondness;
Yet to preserve him from ignoble bonds—
But I will trust thy virtue: to thy care
I leave my all, my son, my kingdom's hope.
If heaven directs the battle, we shall meet,
Victorious meet; if not, that mind august
Will speak the rest; 'tis thine to set him free.

THAMYRIS.
And canst thou leave me thus! perhaps for ever!
O! I have much to say—these starting tears—

PHARNACES.
My soul's best treasure! see'st thou not the pangs
Which rend my tortur'd heart? the mighty voice
Of public duty calls me. Does the storm
On us alone descend? At this dread moment
How many weeping matrons mourn their lords!
How many agonizing mothers curse,
In bitterness of soul, thy father's sword!
Wilt thou conspire against me! Pitying gods!
O save me from her sorrows! I must leave thee;
Leave thee midst foes; but 'tis to save from bondage
This bleeding land.

THAMYRIS.
Where has my spirit slept?
Where is that spark of heaven-descended virtue
Which gives the diadem its brightest lustre,
And fires the monarch's bosom? Go, Pharnaces,
Thy duty calls; I yield thee to thy people:
Forgive me; go, thy country's best defender;
And may the gods protect thee!

PHARNACES.
To my child
Bear this embrace, and say—but whilst I linger,
The work of fate goes on. Thou wilt remember—
The faithless Romans come—that steel!—Eumenes!—
The last of Mithridates' conquering race—
The blood of heroes fills his infant veins—
If he is doom'd a slave—

THAMYRIS.
No more, no more:
Tho' horror shakes my frame, yet go secure!—
Trust to my faith;—ne'er shall the conquering race
Of Mithridates blush in chains.

PHARNACES.
Farewell!

SCENE VI.

THAMYRIS.
What has my rashness sworn! All-righteous Themis!
O spare a mother's crime!—Let my lov'd lord
Return with conquest crown'd!—Preserve the hero,
Who combats for his country!—In the field
Be present with him;—nerve his patriot arm!
Give the lov'd monarch to his people's wishes,
And show mankind the great reward of virtue.