University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

The SCENE represents rocks and trees, with a distant view of the river Oxus.
HERMODON, INDATER, Scythians.
HERMODON.
Whence this daring insult?
What strangers these, who, with intrusive march,
Have pass'd the summits of high Imaus' rocks?
Mean they to ravage on the banks of Oxus,
Or spoil the plains of innocence and peace?

INDATER.
Our troops, whose minds no dangers can appal,
Observing from afar some hasty steps,
Advance with eager speed.—The Persians meet us;
When straight a martial youth, with haughty mien,
Demanded of us parley with our master.

HERMODON.
What master know we here, where all are free?
No kings, no subjects; but all friends and brothers.

INDATER.
He said, that visiting the Persian frontier,
He wish'd to see a people far renown'd
For ancient manners and bleak liberty:
We offer them safe conduct and protection;
Whilst they present to our astonish'd sight
Rich trappings, blazing shields, gold, diamonds, pearls,
The guilty spoils of desolating war:
But we reject these specious toys of grandeur;
For poverty is chiefest grandeur here,
Not wealth, corrupter of simplicity.
In short, we swear an amity sincere,
And lo! they come to crown this prosp'rous day,
Which gives me happiness and Zobeide.

HERMODON.
But Zobeide, thou know'st, whose blooming charms
Have won thy soul—was born among the Persians!

INDATER.
The sun, which rises o'er yon eastern hill,
And which each morn we gratefully adore,
Shines not on us alone—It shines on Persia:
Then may not Persia boast its ray divine?

HERMODON.
Thou little know'st the secrets of my heart;
Since, after four long years in friendship past,
I still am stranger to her father's story—
What fate mysterious lur'd him to these climes;
Why persecution still attends his exile;
For, ever as I'd sooth him into converse,
He answers but with tributary tears.

INDATER.
To this fair country's maxims and her laws
He cheerfully submits—and way-worn age
Can rarely change the bent of early nature.
But fairest Zobeide—

HERMODON.
Is worthy of thee.
And yet I cannot guess the cause, her father
Blushes to speak of whom he is descended;
His rank, his fortunes, and his fame unknown.

INDATER.
Whoe'er he be, I'm sure he's just and valiant:
He loves me—He is father to my Zobeide.

HERMODON.
As no vile aims debase a Scythian's mind,
We will not meanly stoop to ask a prize,
The brightest, fairest prize, whilst covert fears
Or foul distrust sit low'ring on our motives.
Seek him, my son—if no unworthy thoughts
Shall harbour in his breast—I will consent.
But see he comes—

Enter SEYFEL.
INDATER.
O generous old man!
Thou dear companion of our happy shepherds!
This day some gallant youths will soon arrive,
And view with joy the festive rites that wait us;
I from thy hand this happy day receive
A gift more precious than the throne of Cyrus:
What age of service can repay such goodness!
I cannot speak the feelings of my heart.
Witness, ye Gods!—not Hermodon more shares
My duty or my love:—Ah! whence those tears?

SEYFEL.
They flow from tenderness and former cares:
If, amidst all my griefs, this faithful union
Should heal some wound which rankles near my heart,
The scar would still remain—For blessings oft
Recal to mind the evils we have suffer'd.

INDATER.
O! speak the fatal source of each misfortune;
If not redress, we may at least infuse
The sacred balm of sympathizing pity.

HERMODON.
For all the friendship we have firmly sworn,
Thou ow'st this tribute to us.

SEYFEL.
My gentle youth,
Zobeide, thou know'st, submits her will to mine;
She is the only good the Gods have left me:
I wish this marriage—I'll advise, persuade,
But cannot strain the bond of rightful sway,
The soft authority of friend and parent.
Go, thou dear hope of my declining age,
I would some private conf'rence here—Meanwhile,
Artless as native truth, still urge thy suit,
Obtain her promise, and depend on mine.
[Exit Indater.
Ere I begin the story of my life,
Let me gaze round with grateful rapture here:
Believe me, Hermodon—these rocks, these trees,
To me seem nobler than the Persian court.

HERMODON.
Thou once wast great?

SEYFEL.
I was.

HERMODON.
Too long, my friend,
Thy griefs pent up, have prey'd upon thy heart:
I do not hate the great—I love the Persians;
Their laws and noble manners I admire;
Tho' all mankind at first were equal born,
I strictly hold that subjects should obey
Those whom their Gods make delegates of pow'r:
Simplicity's soft charms, in this republic,
Are no fit lessons for monarchic states.
Could'st thou suppose that I was less attach'd
Because in Scythia—

SEYFEL.
If I have long conceal'd
The source of my misfortunes—pardon me,
Pardon a parent's doubts—I'd lost my all:
My child here wander'd friendless—unprotected—
I fear'd the foul disgraces of her father
Would fall on her, and stain her rising glory.

HERMODON.
Forbear thy tears.

SEYFEL.
Know then, that under Cyrus
I carried terror to th'affrighted nations.
Hircania bow'd her neck unto my yoke,
Hircania free till then.

HERMODON.
Most harsh the chains
Which gall the stubborn neck of liberty!

SEYFEL.
Oppression's arts, unworthy of the brave
To be the Prince's slave, t'enslave his people,
To crouch, or cruelly exact obedience,
Dazzled a while—but now demand repentance,
The noble Cyrus, with a lavish hand,
Would heap on me full measure of rewards;
I ever was the partner of his counsels—
But Cyrus died—and I was soon forgotten.
Cambyses I abandon'd—impious man!
Unworthy successor of such a father!
Ecbatan, as yet the abode of Media's Prince,
At her new court conceal'd my hoary head,
Till Smerdis, governing the Median realm,
Smerdis, who sought the ruin of the virtuous,
Gave a decisive blow to all my hopes;
The unbridled Athamand, his sister's son,
In firm alliance with a noble princess,
Whom Persia's court had destin'd to his love,
(His tyrant passions brooking no controul,)
Demanded Zobeide as despotic master.

HERMODON.
And did his life repay the glaring outrage?

SEYFEL.
Thrice arm'd with innocence, th'undaunted fair
Compell'd our flight into this distant land;
By me alone she was deliver'd from him;
The monsters, who surround the impious Smerdis,
More than their common arts employ'd against us;
With fairest colours hid the worst designs,
And couch'd the dagger, lab'ring to destroy us.
In Media it is treason, as at Babylon,
To brand the prince who next must fill the throne.

HERMODON.
O dire effects of hell born servitude!
Is then complaint a crime in Persia's court?
Can you regret the loss of basest grandeur?

SEYFEL.
There you awake the thought which wrings my heart.
Smerdis proscrib'd my life—they seiz'd—they shar'd
Employments—wealth—the price of all my service.
My faithful child accompanied my flight;
With patient steps we labour'd up the steep
Of Taurus' craggy cliffs, whose o'erhung brow
Indignant frowns upon the boist'rous main.
Wearied by toils—thanks to the pitying Gods!
In these fair climes we found unhop'd-for peace:
Would I had here been born! All my regret
Is to have run a desperate mad career
In courts and camps, attendant upon kings.
But I perceive my child shut up in desarts,
Regrets the pleasures of her former life;
And much I fear that reason, filial duty,
Combat too weakly each delusive vision:
Courts and their pomp will fascinate our eyes
Ere bitter ills annoy the sick'ning soul.

HERMODON.
What ills await you here? ah! what regret?
With us she's free, applauded—honour'd—
No lurking dangers taint this hallow'd soil;
Here liberty has fixt her blest abode,
And looks with pity down upon the great.

SEYFEL.
Oh! I should die content, if my dear child
Hated, like me, the perfidy of courts:
But let not my inquietudes repress
The dawning joys that beam upon thy son.
Conceal them from him.

Enter INDATER.
Zobeide is mine;
The blooming maid accepts my earnest suit;
Let not my father or his generous friend
Frown on my fate, and I am blest indeed!

HERMODON.
Our wish, my son, is to behold thee happy.

SEYFEL.
Auspicious hour! I feel my life renew;
A second spring shoots through my aged veins,
And makes me hope return of better days.

Enter SCYTHIANS in haste.
SCYTHIAN.
As late I watch'd my flocks on yonder hills,
A splendid troop pass'd by—their chief, I find,
(Whose turban glitter'd on his cloudy brow)
Is bound to search an aged warrior out,
Who formerly was known in Media's camps;
Demands of us the place where he's conceal'd—
Th'unfortunate old man he long has sought for.

HERMODON.
O heav'ns! let him pursue him to these arms!

INDATER.
He there is shelter'd whilst I live to guard him.

SCYTHIAN.
The gen'rous Persian comes not to defy
A race of shepherds innocent as brave;
His breast seems lab'ring with some weighty grief;
Perhaps a banish'd man, some hardy warrior
Who flies a court unmindful of his service:
Perhaps—

Second SCYTHIAN.
'Tis said, that half worn out with cares,
He only seeks a safe retreat from danger;
Weeps the past horrors of malignant fate,
And grateful hails the dawn of rising freedom.

HERMODON.
His tears are more suspicious than his presents.
Pardon my anxious doubts—I fear the Persians;
These brilliant slaves are willing to betray us.
Thee, my best friend, perhaps they seek for here:
Perhaps the tyrant at thy flight enrag'd,
Demands thy rated life—A spotless chief
Must sometimes bleed to save the guilty prince.

SEYFEL.
Forgetting princes in these happier climes,
I am forgotten too—I fear them not.

INDATER.
We'll perish all, ere this indignant stranger
Shall offer insult to my more than father.

HERMODON.
Whoe'er he be, I shall not shun his walks:
If bold, chastise; if exil'd, we'll protect him.

INDATER.
Let him come on—he shall not cloud our joys;
A Scythian's heart is steel'd 'gainst panic terrors.
Prepare the altar for th'approaching nuptials;
Place round it ev'ry gift of bounteous Nature,
And there present the hand that combats for thee;
[To Seyfel.
No cares intrude; and may th'immortal Gods
Bending from high to hear our plighted vows,
Propitious smile on this important hour,
That gilds or darkens all my future days.