The Siege of Sinope A Tragedy |
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| 1. | SCENE I. |
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 | The Siege of Sinope |  |
SCENE I.
On the left Hand, the Camp of Pharnaces in Prospect at the Entrance of a Grove; the Time near Midnight; the Moon risen; the Tents with Lights dispers'd amongst the Trees, the Royal Tent in the Front of the others: on the right Hand a Road over a Mountain, from whence Pharnaces descends with his Army.—Grand March.PHARNACES, TIGRANES, and Soldiers.
TIGRANES.
My gracious lord, may every hour, like this,
Bear conquest on its wing! o'er yonder hills
The Romans fly;—those tyrants of mankind,
Whose rage destructive lights the flaming brand,
And scatters terror thro' the mild abodes,
Where concord wont to dwell.
PHARNACES.
My gallant friend,
Armenia's monarch, brave Cyaxares,
Pursues the drooping eagles. Yet, Tigranes,
'Till fair Sinope's walls receive their lord;
'Till, free once more, amid their flowery vales
My subjects sheathe the sword, and taste the meed
Of well-fought fields in the soft arms of peace,
'Till my lov'd queen, my son, in my embrace,
Forget the danger past, I have not conquer'd:
My toils are but begun—stern Athridates
E'en in my palace reigns.
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Shall the fell tyrant,
Who mocks the plighted vow, still brave unheeded
The thunder of the gods?—What dire offence
Shall draw the vengeful bolt, if deeds like his
Insult th' immortal powers?
PHARNACES.
The gods, Tigranes,
Assist the brave; their power omnipotent
Is present with us—when they gracious give
A heart resolv'd to dare, an arm to strike.
TIGRANES
(looking out).
Behold, my lord, along the sacred grove
A light resplendent as the noon-tide ray
Shoots like a meteor to the western gate!
And now dissolves in air.
PHARNACES.
I hail the omen,
And feel, confess'd, the energy divine:
The gods themselves conduct me, nerve my arm,
Inspire my purpose, point my destin'd way,
And in my bosom fan the flame of hope.
Begin the march, and filing near the grove
Approach Sinope. Beauteous queen of night!
Chaste goddess of the groves! let thy fair beam
My path irradiate, and direct my steps,
'Till to their native walls, I lead triumphant
My faithful warriors,—let inspiring sounds
The soldier's bosom chear,—lead on, Tigranes.
[A grand march.
| The Siege of Sinope | |