University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

A royal apartment.
Artaxerxes, Artaban.
Artax.
Guards, from the prison lead Arbaces hither.
[speaking as he enters.
Thou hast thy full request, and would to Heaven
This meeting might preserve him!

Artab.
Think not, sir,
That what I ask springs from paternal fondness,
Or ill-tim'd hopes to find him innocent;
His guilt is too apparent; he must die.
Your safety only urges me to see him;
As yet the motive of his crime is secret,
The accomplices unknown: I would explore
Each dark device of treason.

Artax.
Artaban,
How does thy fortitude excite my envy!
I tremble at the danger of a friend;
Thou keep'st thy temper while thy son's condemn'd.

Artab.
How dearly does it cost my heart to assume
These looks of firmness, when my bosom owns
The voice of struggling nature! I too feel
The tender weakness common to a parent:
But midst the conflict duty still prevails:
No longer he's my son, whose impious crime
Has fill'd his father's aged cheeks with shame:
I was a subject, ere I was a parent.

Artax.
Thy virtue, friend, speaks strongly for Arbaces:
I owe thee more the less thou plead'st his cause.
Shall I be thus ungrateful to thy worth,
Without remorse in him to punish thee?
No, Artaban, let us contrive to save him:
Find some pretence that I may doubt his crime;
Let me entreat thee join thy cares with mine.

Artab.
What can I do when every thing condemns him?
You see, Arbaces, conscious of his guilt,
Makes no defence.

Artax.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Enter Arbaces guarded.
Artab.
Now rides my vessel nigh the port—Arbaces,
Approach; and you retire, but near at hand
Await my call.

[the guards retire.
Arb.
My father here alone?

Artab.
At length, my son, I may preserve thy life.
From thoughtless Artaxerxes I've obtain'd
To speak with thee in private—let us go:
I can conduct thee by a secret way,
To him unknown; and thus at once deceive
His guards and him.

Arb.
Dost thou propose a flight
That would confirm my guilt?

Artab.
Unthinking boy!
Let us be gone—I give thee liberty;
I save thee from the king's resentment, lead thee
To popular applause—perchance to reign.

Arb.
What say you, sir!—to reign!

Artab.
Thou know'st the race
Of Xerxes has to all been hateful long:
I need but show thee to the impatient troops;
Already to our party have I gain'd
The leaders of the bands.

Arb.
Shall I become
A rebel to my prince? The thought alone
Fills me with horror: O my father! leave,
Leave me my innocence.

Artab.
'Tis lost already,
Since all believe it lost: thou art a prisoner,
And bear'st each mark of guilt.

Arb.
But yet unjustly.

Artab.
No matter; this avails not: innocence
Consists, Arbaces, in the fond belief
Of others; take but that belief away,
It shrinks to nothing: he alone is virtuous
Who wears the best disguise, and artful hides
His inmost passions from the observing world.

Arb.
O sir! you are deceiv'd; the noble mind
Is to itself a world; approves or censures
In secret all its good or evil deeds,
Above the partial breath of vulgar crowds.

Artab.
Let it be so—but must we to preserve
Our innocence, be prodigal of life?

Arb.
And what is life, my father?

Artab.
Life, my son,
Is Heaven's most valued gift.

Arb.
Life is a good
That lessens while we use it, every moment
Of our enjoyment is but as a step
That leads us nearer to our dissolution;
And from the cradle we begin to die.

Artab.
And shall I then contend with thee to save thee?
No further reason seek—'tis my command;
Dispatch.

Arb.
Forgive me, but in this I must
Transgress your first command.

Artab.
Force shall compel you;
Follow me.

[offers to take him by the hand.
Arb.
Leave me yet in peace, my father:
Put not my duty to so hard a trial;
For should you now constrain me—

Artab.
Dost thou threaten?
Ungrateful boy!—Speak out—what would'st thou do?

Arb.
Rather than follow you I'd hazard all.

Artab.
Soon shall we see who conquers: follow me:
Away.

[takes his hand.
Arb.
Ho! guards!

Artab.
Be silent.

Arb.
Guards! come forth;
Give me again my chains: back to my dungeon
Once more conduct me.

[guards return.
Artab.
O! I burn with rage!

[aside.
Arb.
Bid me farewell, my father.

Artab.
Hence, and leave me;
Think not I'll listen to a wretch like thee.

Arb.

[Exit guarded.

SCENE III.

Artaban
alone.
Now, Artaban, subdue thy weak affections,
And to his fate resign a rebel-son.
And yet I cannot from my heart condemn him;
Methinks I love him more for differing from me;
At once I am fill'd with rage and admiration;
Pity and wrath by turns divide my soul.

SCENE IV.

Enter Megabyzus.
Mega.
O sir! on what are now your thoughts employ'd?
Why are you thus irresolute—remember
'Tis not a time to ponder, but to act:
The peers in council meet; together join'd
Are all the victims of your just resentment.
There shall we find your rivals; these destroy'd,
The path is smooth'd to empire. Let us fly
To set Arbaces free.

Artab.
Ah! Megabyzus,
What wretchedness is mine! my son refuses
Empire and liberty; heeds not his life,
And with himself involves us all in ruin.

Mega.
What says my lord?

Artab.
Even now contending with him,
I strove in vain to conquer his resolves.

Mega.
Then from the prison let us bear him off
By force.

Artab.
The time we lose to overcome
His guard's fidelity, or shake their valour,
Affords the king full leisure for defence.

Mega.
'Tis true: then first let Artaxerxes die,
And after save Arbaces.

Artab.
But the life
Of my dear son remains a hostage for me.

Mega.
Behold this remedy: let us divide
Our trusty friends between us; at one instant
Do you attack the prison, I the palace.

Artab.
Our forces thus divided will be weaken'd.

Mega.
Something must be resolv'd.

Artab.
The safest course
Is to resolve on nothing: we must now
Have time to plan anew our baffled schemes.

Mega.
What if meanwhile Arbaces be condemn'd?

Artab.
Extremity of need will teach us then
The speediest remedy: let it suffice,
That thou continuest to dissemble yet,
And keep thy followers steady to our cause.
Meantime with caution every means I'll try
That may seduce the guards: till now I thought
The attempt was needless, therefore deem'd it folly,
Without necessity, to increase our dangers.

Mega.
Dispose of me as to thyself seems fit.

Artab.
Betray me not, my friend.

Mega.
Who, I betray you?
Ah, sir! What have you said? Can you believe
I'll e'er be thus ungrateful? I remember
My low beginning: to your bounteous hand
I owe my all: you from the ignoble vulgar
Have rais'd me to the foremost ranks of honour.
Ah, sir! what have you said? Shall I betray you?

Artab.
What hitherto I've done for thee is little:
If Fortune smiles upon me, Megabyzus,
Thou shalt perceive my love: full well I know
Thy passion for Semira, nor condemn it.
I have resolv'd—behold she comes—my will
Shall make thy love secure, and join us both
By closer ties.

Mega.
O transport!

SCENE V.

Enter Semira.
Artab.
Come, my daughter;
Behold thy husband.

Sem.
[aside.]
Heavens! What do I hear?
Is this a time, my lord, to think of nuptials,
When my unhappy brother now—

Artab.
No more;
Thy marriage here may stand him much in stead.

Sem.
Great is the sacrifice—Ah! yet, my father,
Reflect again; I am—

Artab.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Semira, Megabyzus.
Sem.
Now hear me, Megabyzus; I begin
At length to hope indulgence from your love.
May I expect you'll grant me one request?

Mega.
What would I not to obey you?

Sem.
Yet I fear
Thou wilt oppose my wish.

Mega.
Remove that fear
By speaking your command.

Sem.
O! if thou lov'st me
Break off these nuptials.

Mega.
I?

Sem.
Yes, Megabyzus,
So may'st thou save me from my father's anger.

Mega.
I would obey you: but Semira surely
Means but to jest—

Sem.
O no! I speak my soul.

Mega.
It cannot be—you mean to give me torment,
I read your purpose.

Sem.
Dost thou then deride me?
Till now I thought thee a more generous lover.

Mega.
And I till now believ'd Semira wiser.

Sem.
Thus dost thou shew the greatness of thy mind?

Mega.
Is this the favour you would ask a lover?

Sem.
I have open'd thee a field, where thou with praise,
Without offending me, may'st prove thy virtue.

Mega.
My virtue would I prove, but not in this.

Sem.
Then must I hope in vain?

Mega.
Thy hope is vain.

Sem.
These tears I shed—

Mega.
Avail not.

Sem.
These entreaties—

Mega.
Are scatter'd to the wind.

Sem.
Hear then, inhuman!
I will obey my father; but expect not
That ever I can love thee: I shall still
Detest the fatal tie that binds me to thee.
I swear thou shalt be hateful to my eyes:
Thou may'st possess my hand, but ne'er my heart.

Mega.

[Exit.

SCENE VII.

Enter Mandane.
Sem.
How many evils has one day united
For my unhappiness!—Hear me, Mandane!

Man.
Delay me not, Semira.

Sem.
Whither go'st thou
With such impatience?

Man.
To the royal council.

Sem.
Conduct me with thee, if my power can ought
Avail Arbaces.

Man.
Different are our views;
Thou seek'st to save him, I pursue his life.

Sem.
Can thus the lover of Arbaces speak?

Man.
Thus Xerxes' daughter speaks.

Sem.
Alas! my brother
Has sure no guilt, or for thy sake is guilty,
Because too much he lov'd thee.

Man.
This, Semira,
This is his greatest crime: his death alone
Must clear my honour, must avenge the insult
My virtue feels, to think the love I gave him
That should have rouz'd his soul to generous deeds,
Has, to my shame, now mark'd him for a traitor.

Sem.
Cannot the rigour of the threatening laws
Suffice, without thy help, to punish him?

Man.
No, it suffices not: in Artaxerxes
I fear th' emotions of a tender friendship;
And in the nobles of the land I fear
The force of blind affection; in himself
I fear that unknown power, that friendly star
Which conquers all, and makes each heart his own.

Sem.
Go then, inhuman! urge the fatal stroke,
Accuse him, see him die—but yet reflect—
First weigh thy constancy, thou must forget
Thy hopes, affections, and thy plighted faith;
Thy tenderness; the mutual sighs exchang'd,
The first fond looks; obliterate from thy mind
The dear remembrance of that well-known face,
From which thy heart first learn'd the sighs of love.

Man.

[Exit.

SCENE VIII.

Semira
alone.

[Exit.

SCENE IX.

A great council hall with a throne on one side, seats on the other for the Grandees of the kingdom. A table and chair on the right hand of the throne.
Artaxerxes preceded by a part of the guards, and by the Grandees of the kingdom, followed by the rest of the guards. Megabyzus.
Artax.
Behold, ye guardians of our Persian realm,
Behold me ready to embrace the cares
Of my paternal seat; but so unhappy,
So full of turbulence begins my reign,
This hand, yet unexperienc'd, dreads to grasp
The sceptre of dominion: you, whose breasts
Are fill'd with faith, experience, zeal and valour,
Which oft you've shown to recompense the love
My god-like father gave you, now assist me,
And guide my steps to tread the paths of empire.

Mega.
My gracious king, Mandane and Semira
Impatient ask admittance to your presence.

Artax.
Ye powers!—Let them approach; full well I know
What different cause incites them.

SCENE X.

Enter Mandane and Semira.
Sem.
Artaxerxes,
Have pity.

Man.
Vengeance, vengeance, Artaxerxes:
I come to urge the death of one that's guilty.

Sem.
I ask the life of one that's innocent.

Man.
The treason's certain.

Sem.
Doubtful is the traitor.

Man.
But all appearances condemn Arbaces.

Sem.
Justice and reason must absolve Arbaces.

Man.
The father's blood, shed from his veins, requires
The murderer's punishment.

Sem.
The son's preserv'd,
Demands a recompense for its preserver.

Man.
Remember rigour is the throne's support.

Sem.
Reflect that mercy is its strongest basis.

Man.
O let the sorrows of a wretched daughter
Excite your indignation!

Sem.
Let the tears
Of an afflicted sister calm your anger.

Man.
All whom you here behold, except Semira,
Require this sacrifice.

Sem.
Hear, Artaxerxes,
Have pity!

Man.
Vengeance, vengeance!

Artax.
Rise—O Heaven!—
Rise both: how are your pains excell'd by mine!
Semira fears the rigour of my justice,
Mandane fears my mercy. Artaxerxes,
At once a friend and son, feels both your pangs,
And trembles with Mandane and Semira.
Ah! come my Artaban; speak comfort to me:
[seeing Artaban.
Hast thou found aught that may defend Arbaces?
Say, has he prov'd his innocence?

SCENE XI.

Enter Artaban.
Artab.
In vain
Is all our proffer'd pity: for his safety
He heeds it not, or now despairs to find it.

Artax.
Ingrate! and will he force me to condemn him?

Sem.
Condemn him!—Too inhuman Artaxerxes!
Shall then Semira's brother, Persia's glory,
The friend of Artaxerxes, his defender,
Bend to the fatal ignominious axe?
Wretched Arbaces! All my tears are vain!
O unregarded grief!

Artax.
Falsely, Semira,
Thou say'st that I'm inhuman—can I more?
Thou see'st Arbaces offers no defence:
What would'st thou do, or what would Artaban?
Guards, let Arbaces be conducted to me:
The father's self shall judge his son, shall hear,
And, if he can, acquit him; to his hand
I trust, in this, my right of sovereign power.

Artab.
What have you said?

Man.
Shall friendship thus prevail
Above your duty? Sure you never sought
His punishment, since to a father's voice
You thus commit the sentence of the guilty.

Artax.
Yes, I commit the sentence to a father,
Whose truth is known, who has himself accus'd
A son whom now I vainly would defend;
A father, who has greater cause than I
To enforce his doom.

Man.
Yet is he still a father.

Artax.
Thence has he double cause to punish him:
I on Arbaces only would revenge
The death of Xerxes slain; but Artaban
Must on his son revenge, with greater rigour,
The death of Xerxes, and his own dishonour.

Man.
Then thus—

Artax.
Should then Arbaces' guilt be prov'd,
I thus secure a victim for the king,
Without ingratitude to my preserver.

Artab.
Such trial, sir—

Artax.
Is worthy of thy virtue.

Artab.
How will the world approve your choice?

Artax.
Can aught
Be urg'd against it? Speak, ye peers, declare,
[to the Grandees.
Is there a doubt that prompts you to dissent?

Mega.
Each, by his silence, seems to approve the choice.

Sem.
See where my brother comes.

Man.
Ah me!

[aside.
Artax.
No more:
Let him be heard.

[Artaxerxes ascends the throne, and the Grandees take their places.]
Artab.
Now, now my soul, conceal
Thy inward pangs.

[aside.]
[takes his seat at the table.
Man.
Be still my beating heart!

[aside.

SCENE XII.

Enter Arbaces in chains, guarded.
Arb.
Am I to Persia then become so hateful,
That all are gather'd to behold my sufferings?
My king—

Artax.
Call me thy friend: fain would I still
Continue thus, that I might doubt thy guilt.
And since the indulgent name of friend but ill
Beseems the judge, the trial of thy crime
To Artaban's committed.

Arb.
To my father!

Artax.
To him.

Arb.
I freeze with horror!

[aside.
Artab.
Wherefore art thou
Thus lost in thought? Perhaps thou stand'st amaz'd
To see my fortitude.

Arb.
Alas! my father;
I'm struck with horror to behold thee here,
Reflecting what I am, and what thou art.
Canst thou then judge me? Canst thou thus preserve
Thy looks unchang'd, nor feel thy breast within
Torn by conflicting pangs?

Artab.
Whate'er I feel,
'Tis not for thee to explore my secret thoughts,
Or search how far my heart and face agree.
Remember thou hast made me what I am:
Had'st thou observ'd my counsels, had'st thou learn'd
To tread the steps of an indulgent father,
Before these peers I had not been the judge,
Nor thou the criminal.

Artax.
Unhappy father!

Man.
We come not here to attend your private griefs:
Or let Arbaces now defend himself,
Or let him be condemn'd.

Arb.
Inhuman princess!
[aside.

Artab.
Then let the criminal appear before me,
And answer my demands. Thou art here, Arbaces,
As Xerxes' murderer; and these the proofs
That speak thy guilt: thy rash presumptuous love,
Thy wrath against the king—

Arb.
My bloody weapon,
The time, the place, my fear, my flight, I know
All these proclaim me guilty; yet all these
Are other than they seem—I am innocent.

Artab.
Produce the proofs; clear up thy sullied fame,
And calm the anger of distress'd Mandane.

Arb.
Oh! would'st thou have me constant in my sufferings,
Assail me not in that most tender part.
At that lov'd name—Inhuman father—

Artab.
Hold,
With passion blind, thou know'st not where thou art,
With whom thou speak'st, or what assembly hears thee.

Arb.
But yet my father—

Artab.
Yet my soul conceal
Thy inward pangs.
[aside.

Man.
Be still my beating heart.
[aside.

Artab.
Thy crime demands repentance or defence.

Artax.
O speak—assist our pitying grace.

Arb.
My king!
I cannot speak of guilt or of defence;
Nor can I find a motive to repent;
And should you question me a thousand times,
I must a thousand times repeat the same.

Artab.
O filial love!
[aside.

Man.
Yes, yes, his speech, his silence
Alike declare him guilty: wherefore then
This long delay? What means the judge? Is this
The man that should revenge his murder'd king,
And clear his own dishonour?

Arb.
Dost thou seek
My death, Mandane?

Man.
Persevere, my soul.
[aside.

Artab.
Princess, thy just reproach has rouz'd my virtue:
Let Artaban pronounce the impartial sentence,
And give to Persia's realms a great example
Of loyalty and justice yet unknown.
I here condemn my son—Arbaces die.

[signs the paper.
Man.
O Heaven!
[aside.

Artax.
Defer, my friend, the fatal sentence.

Artab.
The deed is sign'd—I have fulfill'd my duty.

[rises and gives the paper to Megabyzus.
Artax.
O barbarous triumph!

[descends from his throne, the Grandees rise.
Sem.
Most inhuman father!

Man.
My tears betray me.
[aside.

Arb.
Does Mandane weep?
Can then my fate at length excite your pity?

Man.
Tears flow not less from pleasure than from grief.

Artab.
The rigorous judge has done his part—O sir!
Permit the father now to be indulg'd.
Forgive, my son, the laws of tyrant duty,
Endure with patience what remains to suffer:
[to Arb.
Let not the thought of punishment affright thee;
The fear of evil is the greatest evil.

Arb.
Alas! my constancy begins to shake,
To view myself before the world expos'd
A seeming criminal; to see my hopes
Thus blasted in their spring; my day of life
Extinct at early dawn; to find myself
Hateful to Persia, to my friend, my love;
To know my father—most unnatural father!
But whither am I hurried?—O farewell!

[going, he stops.
Artab.
My soul is chill'd.
[aside.

Man.
I faint.
[aside.

Arb.
Too rash Arbaces,
What hast thou utter'd? Pardon me, my father;
Behold me at your feet: excuse the transports
Of wild despair: let all my blood be shed,
I'll ne'er complain, nor call the sentence cruel,
But kiss the hand that signs my death.

Artab.
O rise!
Thou hast indeed too deep a cause for anguish.
But know—O Heaven!—This last embrace and leave me.

Arb.
While on this dear embrace I dwell,
O hear me by this last farewell!
Preserve thyself from ill, remove
This cruel scorn from her I love;
And still my king defend.
I meet my doom without regret,
If all the woes that Persia threat
On me alone descend.

[Exit guarded, followed by Megabyzus, The Grandees go out.]

SCENE XIII.

Ataxerxes, Artaban, Mandane, Semira.
Man.
Arbaces gone, I now indeed begin
To feel the stroke of death.

Artab.
Behold, Mandane,
To appease thy rage I shed my dearest blood.

Man.
Ah! wretch! fly from my presence, from the light
Of Heaven, the golden stars: hide thee, inhuman,
Deep in the hollow earth's most dark recess,
If earth herself will in her entrails yield
A shelter for a cruel impious father,
Lost to affection, and to nature lost!

Artab.
And is my virtue then—

Man.
Barbarian! peace:
What virtue dost thou boast? Virtue has still
Its bounds prescrib'd; extending to excess,
It grows a vice.

Artab.
But art not thou the same
That urg'd my tardy justice?

Man.

[Exit.

SCENE XIV.

Artaxerxes, Artaban, Semira.
Artax.
O my Semira! how has Heaven conspir'd
To ruin poor Arbaces!

Sem.
Barbarous tyrant!
And art thou chang'd so soon? First would'st thou kill
Thy friend, and then lament him?

Artax.
To his father
I gave the power to acquit or to condemn him.
And am I then a tyrant? Have I kill'd him?

Sem.
O! 'tis the most ingenious cruelty!
The father judging, was compell'd to act
Subservient to the laws; to thee, a king,
The laws were subject: pity had in him
Been criminal, but was from thee a duty.
No, rather tell me that with savage joy,
Thou see'st a son slain by his father's doom;
That friendship and that love are thine no more.

Artax.
Let Persia witness for me, that I now
Am grateful to Arbaces, that I feel
Compassion for my friend, and love for thee.

Sem.

[Exit.

SCENE XV.

Artaxerxes, Artaban.
Artax.
Didst thou not hear unkind Semira's rage?

Artab.
Didst thou not hear unjust Mandane's anger?

Artax.
I am all compassion, yet she calls me tyrant.

Artab.
I am only just, and yet she calls me cruel.

Artax.
And does my mercy meet with this reward?

Artab.
Is this the recompense of rigid virtue?

Artax.
O Artaban! in one distressful day,
What loss have I sustain'd!

Artab.
Forbear to murmur;
Leave, leave complaints to me, for I this day
Of all mankind am surely most unhappy.

Artax.

[Exit.

SCENE XVI.

Artaban
alone.
At length I am alone, and once again
Can breathe at liberty. To hear myself
Declar'd Arbaces' judge, had nearly lost me.
But let me think no more on perils past,
Myself I've sav'd, now let me save my son.
So when the sudden lightning flies,
The shepherd, struck with pale surprise,
Falls senseless to the ground:
But when he finds his fears were vain,
Again he rises, breathes again;
And careful numbers on the plain
His frighted flock dispers'd around.

[Exit.