University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

An Apartment in the Palace.
THAMYRIS, ARTABANES, meeting.
THAMYRIS.
Saw'st thou Artaxias? does compassion touch
My father's soften'd bosom?

ARTABANES.
Such compassion
Feels the fell Tiger for his panting prey.

THAMYRIS.
What mean thy words? I tremble; a cold dew
Hangs on my frame, and chills my vital powers.
Does my Eumenes live? If thou hast pity,
O, tell me whilst I yet have life to hear thee.

ARTABANES.
I saw him smile, unconscious of his fate;
But soon in Roman chains, with you, deliver'd
To stern Domitius' power—

THAMYRIS.
First shall this dagger—
I was prepar'd for death, but not for shame.
Let the devouring faulchion drink our blood,
Let tortures agonize, let flames consume,
Let death approach in all his terrors drest,
And I will meet his presence unappall'd;
Will give my child, my soul's far dearest part,
Without a groan to his abhorr'd embrace;
But save us, heaven, from the vile chains of Rome!

ARTABANES.
To bondage, to the car of haughty Cæsar,
To shame, to death, your cruel father dooms
The daughter once belov'd, the infant heir
Of mighty Mithridates: yon proud Roman
(Unless the gods assist our monarch's sword,
And drive these fell invaders from our walls)
This night receives, and sends you to the Senates.

THAMYRIS.
My lord! my lov'd Pharnaces!
I have indeed betray'd thee; broke those vows,
Which, dreadful as they were, my lips pronounc'd
Before th' attesting gods.—A moment's pause—
Fond hope will yet intrude: it cannot be:
He will not give a daughter once belov'd,
To glut the pride of Rome. Where hast thou heard
This tale of horror?

ARTABANES.
From the good Artaxias,
Whose tears with mine were mingled as he spoke,
I learnt his cruel purpose.

THAMYRIS.
Lead me to him,—
To Athridates, Cappadocia's tyrant,
This scepter'd murderer, this crown'd assassin,
This scourge of trembling infancy, this—father.

ARTABANES.
My queen! my royal mistress!—

THAMYRIS.
Forgive, ye awful powers, who know my wrongs,
These ravings of a soul to madness urg'd.
No—not to save my child, did I behold
The fatal steel aim'd at his infant bosom,
Should parricide pollute these guiltless hands.
Great nature's voice arrests my dagger's point;
Spite of his crimes, he is my father still.

ARTABANES.
Let me adjure you, by the sacred life
Of your Pharnaces; by your helpless child,
The beauteous pledge of your ill-fated loves;
Yourself; your faithful people; to restrain
These wild, impetuous sallies of your soul,
Nor draw destruction on yourself, on all.

THAMYRIS.
I will command the feelings of my heart;
Will meet him with the uncomplaining eye,
The silent tear of suffering resignation.

ARTABANES.
My gracious queen! fierce Athridates comes.

THAMYRIS.
Retire, and leave us free.

SCENE II.

THAMYRIS.
I wou'd be calm,
Would soothe to peace this whirlwind of the passions,
And wear dissimulation's treacherous smile;
But my full soul, to holy truth inur'd,
Disdains the base disguise.

SCENE III.

THAMYRIS, ATHRIDATES, a Soldier.
ATHRIDATES.
Bear these dispatches to the Roman camp:
(to the Soldier.
This night we join their bands. I sought thee, Thamyris.

[Exit Soldier.
THAMYRIS.
Com'st thou to mock my sorrows! to enjoy
A mother's agonies? Yes, plunge thy sword
In the meek breast of smiling innocence;
The deed will crown the horrors of this day.

ATHRIDATES.
My word is past: Domitius claims his captives:
Thou and thy son are doom'd to grace the car,
And swell the triumph, of all-conquering Cæsar.

THAMYRIS.
'Tis well, 'tis well.—Great Athridates' daughter,
Her son, the last of his imperial race,
In chains shall follow Cæsar: not o'er Pontus,
O'er Cappadocia shall the Romans triumph.

ATHRIDATES.
Too deep already has my bosom felt
The pang that thought awakens: touch'd with pity
I came to save thee (but thy headlong passion
Has blasted my fond purpose); to restore
This darling of thy soul, thy lov'd Eumenes,
To give him life and empire.

THAMYRIS.
Wilt thou save him?
Thus low I bend before th' immortal gods,
To beg a blessing on thee.

ATHRIDATES.
O'er the king
The father has prevail'd; I bring thee peace;
Again the diadem shall bind thy brow,
And thy Eumenes reign.

THAMYRIS.
Transporting sounds!
I have again a father: canst thou pardon
The wildness of my rage? 'Twas fear alone;
My terrors for Eumenes. Let me kiss
That sacred hand, and with my tears atone
For every past offence.

ATHRIDATES.
I pardon thee,
And take thee to my heart. I must remember
Those hours when, dearer than the light of heaven,
Thou wert my soul's best comfort.

THAMYRIS.
'Tis too much,
This sudden torrent of impetuous transport—
My lord!—my king!—my father!

ATHRIDATES.
Still my daughter,
All-powerful nature pleads thy cause—one struggle,
One sacrifice, and all is well.—Pharnaces!

THAMYRIS.
He too shall thank thee for a child preserv'd,
For peace, recover'd empire. In the fane
Of holy Themis, heaven shall join your hands,
And Thamyris be blest beyond the state
Of frail mortality.

ATHRIDATES.
Attentive hear.—
This is the crisis of thy fate; the moment
Which to thy hand a double sceptre gives,
Or sinks thee to a slave.

THAMYRIS.
What means my father?

ATHRIDATES.
Thus far I have prevail'd; consent to break
The impious ties which bind thee to Pharnaces,
To give him up to my revenge, and Pontus
To-morrow yielded to thy guardian care,
Shall own Eumenes' sway; and when the gods
Shall call me to themselves, the fruitful fields
Of Cappadocia shall behold thee seated
On Athridates' throne.

THAMYRIS.
'Tis past—farewell.—

ATHRIDATES.
Return, and hear me; or this pointed steel
Shall leave thee childless.

THAMYRIS.
My fond heart had hop'd,—
But our unhappy sex is born to suffer.

ATHRIDATES.
My mercy scorn'd? On thy devoted head
The massy ruin falls.

THAMYRIS.
Is this thy mercy?
Thy boasted tenederness? Connubial Juno!
In whose bright fane my nuptial vows were seal'd,
Hear, and record! If e'er my faithless heart,
To honour lost, break with unhallow'd lightness
The sacred ties by all mankind rever'd,
The holy bonds of Hymen, may I perish
Unpitied, unreveng'd, the scorn of all
Whose bosoms burn with virtue's glorious flame!

ATHRIDATES.
Thy son shall die.

THAMYRIS.
Then we will die together.

ATHRIDATES.
For the fond idol of thy woman's heart
Who reign'd this morn o'er Pontus, thy Pharnaces,
Expect no aid from him; the Roman eagle
Expands his wing, and hovers dreadful o'er him,
Resistless to descend.

TEAMYRIS.
The righteous powers,
Who love the just, will guard him.

SCENE IV.

THAMYRIS, ATHRIDATES, ARTABANES, ORCHANES.
ORCHANES.
Royal Sir,
A Roman tribune, by Domitius sent,
Demands your private ear.

ATHRIDATES.
Now hear, and tremble!
That tribune is thy fate; the hour is past;
The hour my weakness gave. Hence, dove-like pity!
Let vengeance steel my soul!—Yet once again—
[Going—Returns.
Fond woman, hear a father; once again
The voice of nature pleads. Thy darling son—
The flaming altar is already drest,
And thirsts to drink his blood. Thy guards withdrawn,
I leave thee free: till night's pale queen ascends
With trembling ray, yon mountain's lofty summit,
My pity gives thee: when, by fierce Bellona,
Comana's guardian goddess, here I swear,
As thou decid'st, he dies, or reigns in Pontus.

SCENE V.

THAMYRIS, ARTABANES.
THAMYRIS.
Ye powers of heaven! where sleeps your aweful thunder?
My child is doom'd!

ARTABANES.
Be patient, gracious princess.

THAMYRIS.
Am I not patient? Patient as the victim
That pants beneath the knife of sacrifice?
Have they not, unresisted, torn him from me,
From a fond mother's arms?—Hark! Heard'st thou not
That sound confus'd!—No,—'Twas th' ideal voice
Of pensive fancy, sick with anxious care.

ARTABANES.
The sound was real: from the king's apartment,
Some one approaches—Is it possible?
O extacy! beyond the soaring reach
Of bright-ey'd hope, or fancy's fond creation!
Behold! our monarch comes—

THAMYRIS.
It is Pharnaces!
And sorrow from this heart is chac'd for ever.

SCENE VI.

THAMYRIS, PHARNACES, ARTABANES.
PHARNACES.
And dost thou live?

THAMYRIS.
And art thou here to ask?
What god has led thee safe?

PHARNACES.
The god who rules
The battle's rage, has sav'd and sent me to thee.

THAMYRIS.
Forgive my woman's terrors; hast thou conquer'd?
Where are thy troops? Should cruel Athridates!—
Alas! my lord! in this defenceless palace,
The palace of thy fathers, he commands;
Though now withdrawn, his guards may soon return:
Here safety dwells not.

PHARNACES.
The degenerate sons
Of Rome avoid the fight. I found my troops.
By numbers aw'd, retiring: at my sight,
As with new souls inform'd, they rush'd to battle,
Like the big torrent bursting every mound.
The legions stop'd; Domitius led them back,
Inglorious: in the field my faithful warriors,
All high of soul, and eager to engage,
Now wait my wish'd return.

THAMYRIS.
How didst thou pass
Sinope's gates?

PHARNACES.
Along the verdant grove
Of great Apollo, by a path unknown,
Sacred to mighty Mithridates' race,
Which to the palace leads, I came secure,
To save thee from thyself.

THAMYRIS.
Great god of day!
For this, before thy consecrated shrine,
Shall my full heart pour forth the grateful vow.

PHARNACES.
Anxious for thee, and trembling for thy fate,
I flew to abrogate the dreadful oath
My fears this morn impos'd, to bid thee live,
And trust in heaven. A gleam of smiling hope
Breaks through the cloud of black adversity,
As the fair orient ray dispels the shades
Of sable night. My brother of the war,
Cyaxares, Armenia's youthful monarch,
Weary of Roman tyranny, advances,
To aid my cause; and when the setting sun
Dips his last beams in ocean, joins my arms.

THAMYRIS.
Then heaven is just!—The powers celestial aid thee!

PHARNACES.
Fir'd by returning hope, my hardy veterans,
With fair Armenia's yet unconquer'd sons,
Will storm the Roman camp; thou, Artabanes,
Prepare my faithful people for the hour
Of conquest and revenge: let part in arms,
Ere midnight o'er the world her mantle throws,
By valiant Gordias led, expect my coming.
The queen with me departs: Eumenes too,
Whilst fair occasion smiles: conduct him hither:
He too must leave Sinope—Ha! in tears?—
Hast thou too well obey'd me! Has thy dagger!—
My fatal gift!—

THAMYRIS.
He lives.

PHARNACES.
He lives!—no more!
Daughter of Athridates! O beware!
Wake not the sleeping adder in my bosom!
Dear as I love thee, should thy woman's fears—

THAMYRIS.
What means thy fury?

PHARNACES.
Say;—where is Eumenes?
Perhaps in yonder camp—dost thou inherit
A father's baseness? has thy coward-heart
To Rome resign'd him? Giv'n him up to bondage?
To breathe a few short hours this ambient air,
The fetter'd child of shame?

THAMYRIS.
Unkind and cruel!
The iron hand of tyrant power has torn him
From these defenceless arms, like me a captive,
He looks to heaven, and to his father's sword,
For life and freedom.

PHARNACES.
My prophetic fears!
A captive! wherefore did my fondness trust
Thy woman's heart? The hero's glow of soul,
The generous thought, firm virtue's stubborn purpose,
Thy feeble bosom feels not.

THAMYRIS.
Learn to know
This heart, which beats as proudly as thy own,
At honour's god-like voice. Thou bad'st me hope;
Should that fond hope forsake me, should'st thou
Which every god avert! This heart resolv'd,
This faithful steel, a mother's ardent love,
Fearless as thine, shall pierce the tyrant's guards,
And free Eumenes.

PHARNACES.
I have wrong'd thee much,
Soul of my life! have wrong'd thy faith, thy virtue.
Canst thou forgive my rage? A parent's pangs,
The pangs of bleeding honour, rend my heart,
And fire my brain to madness.—But no more—
To yonder warring field, a nation's safety,
The voice of glory, calls me.

[Going.
THAMYRIS.
Yet, Pharnaces,
Yet one request. If, in the battle's fury,
Thou meet'st my father, turn thy sword aside,
And seek another victim.

PHARNACES.
Stop those tears,
Which, like the dew-drops on the lily's bell,
Weigh down thy drooping beauties. Does the tyrant
Deserve this waste of goodness?

ARTABANES.
Haste, my lord!
Stern Athridates comes!—a moment more
And Pontus falls.

THAMYRIS.
O save thyself, Pharnaces!
Haste to the camp, and leave us to the gods.

PHARNACES.
I go: but, in a few revolving hours,
Expect me here, to save, or perish with you.