University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

THAMYRIS, ARTABANES, XIPHARES.
ARTABANES.
My gracious queen!
With hasty step, advancing to the palace,
This way the Cappadocian troops advance,
Led by their haughty lord: a glittering grove
Of hostile spears play in the quivering sun-beams,
And emulate the day. This regal dome
Affords a poor precarious hour of safety.

THAMYRIS.
Xiphares, haste: Do thou conduct my child.
If he is safe, my soul unmov'd can meet
The wildest rage of fate—away—away,
Thou know'st the winding path,—the dark abode,
Where sleep th' illustrious heroes of his race.
Even Athridates, cruel as he is,
Will fear to violate the awful tomb.
[Clashing of swords.
This instant fly, the murderous band approach.