 | The Orphan of China |  |
SCENE V.
Zamti, Idamè, Etan.Idamè.
Where will our sorrows end, when ev'ry moment
Teems with new horrors; and produces evils,
Which, till this day of death, th'affrighted soul
Could ne'er conceive. Alas! you answer not,
But sigh in vain to Heaven, that oppresses us—
And must thou, offspring of so many Kings!
Be sacrific'd to please a ruffian soldier?
Zamti.
I've promis'd, I have sworn to save his life.
Idamè.
Ah! what can your weak help avail him now?
Your oaths, your fond endearments, or your promise?
We have not ev'n hope left.
Zamti.
O Heav'n! my Idamè,
And could'st thou then behold this child of kings
Butcher'd by Scythians?
10
No, the very thought
Makes my sad eyes run o'er; and if, alas!
Our own dear child demanded not my care,
I would say, Death! my Zamti, since our kings
Fall by the Scythian, let not us survive them!
Zamti.
Who, plung'd in misery views death with dread?
The guilty fear, the wretched wish for death;
The brave defy, and triumph in the face on't;
The wise who know that death at last must come,
Without a shock receive it.
Idamè.
Why is this?
What mean these dreadful words? upon the ground
You fix your eyes, your hair stands all an end,
Your cheek grows pale, and tears are in your eyes.
My bosom answers yours, feels all its griefs:
But what resolve you?
Zamti.
To observe my oath.
Go, wait my coming near the Royal Infant.
Idamè.
O, that my cries and prayers could protect him!
| The Orphan of China | |