University of Virginia Library

SCENE, another part of the Wood.
Mandane
alone.
Where am I wandering! this way leads—but whither?
Hold, hold, my brain!—down, down, my busy thoughts,
All recollection's madness—there a train
Of horrid images crowd thick upon me!
Yon bubbling fountain streams with blood—I tread
On mangled limbs—what noise was that—a groan!

Enter Mithranes.
Mithranes.
Wearied with fruitless search, methought but now,
I heard the sound of wild distress—Mandane!

Mandane.
Ha! what art thou?

[wildly.
Mithranes.
O! tell me where is Cyrus?
Does he yet live?

Mandane.
Who dares to speak of Cyrus?
[raving.
Is't thou—take heed—we are observ'd—look there!
See were he comes, all pale and bleeding! ha!
Why do'st thou turn those piteous eyes upon me!
Come, come, my son—nay, pry'thee do not shun me!
Thy mother will no more betray thee—

Mithranes.
Break,
Break my too stubborn heart—have comfort.

Mandane.
Comfort!
Curs'd be the tongue that speaks again of comfort.
Snatch me, ye whirlwinds, to some yawning gulph,
Let my remembrance perish, lest for me
Each son should execrate a mother's name.

Mithranes.
What shall I say to sooth her? speak, Mandane,
'Tis your Mithranes, your old faithful—

Mandane.
Ha!
I know thee now—thou'rt heav'n's vicegerent, sent
To judge, and to condemn me—
Thou strict inquisitor of crimes, before
Whose great tribunal—see yon dreadful witness!
At length 'tis done—and I am sentenc'd!—Oh!—
Where have I been?—Mithranes!—

[Recovers.
Mithranes.
How fares Mandane?

Mandane.
Harpagus has curs'd me
With all the horrid truth—and now he's gone
To save my son, but O! I fear too late!

Mithranes.
Then yet there's hope—

Mandane.
Haste to Astarte's fountain,
There death displays his terrors!—
Mandane alone.
Pitying gods!
[Kneels.
In this short interval of sense, O! hear
A mother's anguish; save him, save my child;
Strike from his breast the lifted steel, nor curse
With a son's blood, a father's erring hand!
[Rises.
And now methinks some gentle spirit whispers,
Mandane, yet have hope—eternal justice
Can never fail—my Cyrus lives—he lives!
And I shall once again embrace—but hark!
What hasty steps!—ha! 'tis Cambyses! horror!
'Tis done, 'tis done—

[swoons.
Enter Cambyses, his sword drawn, and bloody.
Cambyses.
My soul! Mandane! speak—she hears me not,
Senseless and cold—but see, life gently breathes
Thro' her pale icy lips—direct me, heaven,
How to recall her wandering spirits home.

Enter Cyrus.
'Tis she, O! let me gently steal upon her,
Nor give her tender soul too soon the alarm!

Cambyses.
Gods! is not that the murderer of my son?

[turning.
Cyrus.
My mother pale and breathless!

[advancing.
Cambyses.
Pass no further.
Art thou not call'd Alcæus? speak.

Cyrus.
I am,

Cambyses.
My wife!
Look up, behold your wish'd revenge compleated
By your Cambyses' hand.

[attacks Cyrus.
Cyrus.
Yet stay—O! heavens!
Tell me—art thou Cambyses?

Cambyses.
Yes, thou wretch!
I am Cambyses—die—

Cyrus.
My dearest father!
Defer your rage—first know me for your son,
Then plunge your weapon here, I will not shrink,
But bare my breast to meet the blow.

[kneels.
Mandane.
Where am I!
Ha! is it possible! what means that form!

[raising herself.
Cambyses.
And shall I listen to his soothing tale
All false as hell—no—perish.

[attacks Cyrus.
Mandane.
Hold, Cambyses!
[interposing.
Thou kill'st thy son!

Cambyses.
Ha! kill my son!

[drops his sword.
Mandane.
My child!
[embracing Cyrus.
And do I clasp thee thus! it is too much.

Cyrus.
And do I now embrace a mother's knees?
And does she own me too?

Cambyses.
Amazement!—speak,
Mandane, do I dream? Can this be Cyrus?

Mandane.
O! yes—it is my Cyrus—gracious heav'n
That snatch'd him from a father's rage!

Cyrus.
My father!

[kneels.
Cambyses.
Rise to my arms, my son! [embrace]
how is my soul
Perplex'd amidst these strange events—Mithranes—

Mandane.
Mithranes still is true—but say what blood
Distain'd thy sword? didst thou not wait but now
With dreadful purpose?

Cambyses.
No—ere I had reach'd
The appointed place, Mirza by chance assail'd me
With a few scatter'd guards; I wounded some,
Then under favour of the sheltering wood
Escap'd from their pursuit; and hence the blood
That wak'd thy terrors.

Cyrus.
At the sacred fount,
I waited long, till Harpagus appear'd,
Disclos'd a wonderous tale, and bade me fly
To ease a mother's anguish.

Enter Mithranes.
Mandane.
O! Mithranes,
What blest events!

Mithranes.
The time admits not, princess,
Of long congratulations—Harpagus
Has told me all; the hour of sacrifice
Is now at hand; my prince, retire awhile;
Thou too, Cambyses, for this way the king
Goes to the temple.

Mandane.
Must we part so soon?

Cyrus.
But for a time—farewell—lead, good Mithranes.

[Exeunt Cyrus and Mithranes.
Enter Astyages and Mirza behind.
Mandane.
And wilt thou leave me too?

Cambyses.
Mourn not, my love,
When next we meet, we meet in happier hour,
To part no more.

Astyages.
Mirza, 'tis true—but hold,
Let us observe awhile.

Cambyses.
Yes, my Mandane,
Since Cyrus lives—

Astyages.
What do I hear?

[aside.
Cambyses.
His fortune
Shall be our constant theme.—Heav'n that preserv'd,
Has surely form'd him for a life of glory:
But I must hence, farewell.

[going.
Astyages.
Cambyses, stay.

[coming forward.
Mandane.
O heav'ns, the king!

Astyages.
Let not my presence check
Your rising joys, I came to share them with you;
Disclose the wonderous truth: what pious care
Bred up his youth? where is he now conceal'd?
Not speak—Mandane—does my daughter too
Refuse this satisfaction to a parent?
Since then the father mildly pleads in vain,
The king shall force obedience—seize Cambyses—

[Guards enter and seize him.
Enter Harpagus.
Harpagus.
Astyages,
[in haste.
Thou art betray'd—haste—stop the kindling tumult,
Thy presence only can prevent.—

Astyages.
What mean'st thou?
Whence this new alarm?

Harpagus.
The rumour spreads
That Cyrus lives, that now he's at the temple,
All thither run with speed, to see and swear
Allegiance to him, while the madding crowds,
With general voice exclaim, “Cyrus is king!”
“Cyrus still lives, Astyages shall die.”

Astyages.
Perfidious slaves!—is this the secret then
Your breasts conceal'd?
[To Cambyses and Mandane.
But henceforth I'll forget
All ties of blood, both perish by this hand,
The victims of my just resentment.

[Draws.
Harpagus.
Hold,
My king—if it be true that Cyrus lives,
Preserve his parents still, as hostages
That may secure his faith.

Astyages.
Thou counsell'st well;
Remove them hence: Mirza, the charge be thine
To guard them in my tent; come, Harpagus,
And let us prove the worst; but if we fall,
We will not fall alone.

Harpagus.
Assist me now,
[Aside.
Ye demons of revenge; nerve this good arm,
And, tyrant, if thou canst, escape my toils.

[Exeunt Astyages and Harpagus on one side, and Cambyses and Mandane on the other, guarded.