University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

A Burial-Place belonging to the Kings of Pontus.
Alarms of a Siege, loud Groans, and the following Chorus heard from behind.
CHORUS.
'Tis done—the fatal Stroke is giv'n—
Save us—save us, pitying Heav'n!

Then Enter Tamiris distractedly, followed by her Child, and a Soldier.
Child.
O mother, Mother!

Tam.
Fate has done its worst—
Rome triumphs, and Sinope sinks in Ruins—
Pharnaces' Order now must be obey'd,
It must—it shall—but not on thee, my Child!
My Death alone may satisfy—and thee,
Dear Pledge of early Bliss, and happier Days,
Thee I consign to Fate—some whiter Hour
Perhaps may meet thee, should the Arm of Slaughter,
Tir'd with its bloody Office, spare thy Weakness—
Here lye a while conceal'd. My trusty Servant,
Unfold that sacred Door—
[The Soldier opening a Tomb, the Child starts back.]
Why starts my Comfort?
No harm can reach thee here—here may'st thou lie
Secure, and save thy Life.

Child.
I dare not venture
Into that dismal Place—no—dearest Mother,
I'll go with you, and I may be the Means
To save you—sure they cannot be so cruel
To hurt you, when I'm near—On my weak Knees
I'll crawl for ever, blind myself with Tears,
To beg 'em spare my Mother.

Tam.
Oh my Child!
My Heart is almost broke—comply—comply—
AIR.

Child.
The very Sight is Death—I cannot go—
AIR.

[They force the Child into the Tomb, and close it on him.]
Tam.
Forgive me, cruel Glory, and Pharnaces,
Do thou forgive, that, spite of thy Commands,
I yield to Nature's Voice—her Cries are loud—
I could not on my Infant wreak thy Bidding
There spake the Mother—but behold the Queen.
Assert her Pride, and thine.

[She offers to stab herself.
Enter Athridates and his Party.
Ath.
Base Wretch, forbear;
[Seizing the Dagger.
Thou shalt not 'scape me so—by thine own Hand
To see thee freed, would disappoint my Vengeance,
And stain my Triumph.

Tam.
What severe Compassion—

Ath.
Compassion! hence—I know it not—say where
Where hast thou hid thy Child?—th'accursed Offspring
Of my perfidious Foe?

Tam.
Amid' the Ruins,
The dreadful Ruins of our Asian World,
Forlorn, I seek him.

Ath.
Trait'rous Wretch, 'tis false—
Stain of my Blood and Arms, thou hast conceal'd him,
But all thy Arts are vain—I go to seek
And bring him to thine Eyes—then shalt thou die;
Yet not, 'till in his streaming Blood imbath'd,
Death from his ghastly Mien shall dart new Horror,
And doubly wound thy Soul, to glut my Vengeance.

AIR.
Tam.
In my Anguish take a Part,

Ath.
O'er thy Sorrows I rejoice,
Doubly feel each piercing Smart,

Tam.
Ah! is that a Father's Voice?

Ath.
Thy Father, Traitress! I disclaim,
At once the Feelings and the Name;
The Child, and Sire, I go to seek,
Then shall Revenge in Tortures speak.

[Exit Athridates.
[As Athridates goes out, Enter, on the opposite side, Pharnaces.
Phar.
Unarm'd! defenceless! compass'd round with Horror,
Where can I fly for Refuge?—ha! Tamiris!
Hast thou fulfill'd my great Command?

Tam.
My Husband,
I meant to do it—but—nay, turn not from me.

Phar.
Take heed; let me not think thou wouldst deny
Thy Child the last Compassion thou couldst shew him;
For, if thou hast—

Tam.
Be pacified—'tis done.

Phar.
Matchless Obedience! then my Boy is dead!

Tam.
(Aside.)
Forgive me, Truth; I dare not trust thee now.

Phar.
Draw near, Tamiris—one Embrace, ere yet
We follow him, and let my Eyes drop Blood,
To thank thy noble Mercy—closer yet!
United thus, we may defy the Gods
To shew two human Hearts so greatly wretched.

Tam.
Claspt in thy Arms, Death has not half his Horrors—
The easier Part of thy Command, remains
Yet unperform'd—now bid me give the Blow,
And see how fearless—

Phar.
Stay, a Moment Stay!
Let me behold my sole-surviving Comfort
A little longer—such a Loss, as thee,
Requires an Age's Pause.

Tam.
My Lord!—Pharnaces!
What means this awful Silence? Can the Arm
Of Slaughter tire? Or do his Terrors sleep
Awhile, to wake more horrid?

Phar.
Dreadful Interval!
I thank ye Gods, and will enjoy your Bounty,
In Luxury of Grief—Tamiris, say
Where lie the precious Ashes of my Son?

Tam.
Within that Tomb.

Phar.
Kneel with me, kneel, my Comfort,
And consecrate the dear Remains with Tears,
Such pious Tears, as Parents only shed,
[They kneel on each side of the Tomb.
AIR.
Farewel, and sleep in Peace!—the righteous Pow'rs
Have some Compassion; if a Parent's Tongue
Pronounc'd the Doom, yet they who know the Motive
Who read each Thought—
[Alarms within.
Nay shrink not from the Storm,
If it o'erwhelm us, so!—no Hour so fit!

[Alarms again.
Enter Athridates attended.
Ath.
Let all these boasted monumental Piles,
These Glories of a Race to me perfidious,
And Rome's high State, be levell'd to the Earth.

Tam.
O dreadful Sound!

Ath.
Give to the Winds their Ashes!

Tam.
Oh Heav'ns!—my Father what hast thou to fear
From senseless Marble?

Ath.
Where hast thou conceal'd
Thy Child?—quick!—tell me.

Phar.
(starting forth.)
From a Tyrant's Power
Secure he sleeps—thy Fury cannot reach him.

Ath.
Pharnaces there!—Guards seize upon 'em both,
Revenge, I thank thee.

Phar.
Tyrant, we defy—

Ath.
Thy Pride shall yet be tam'd—down with those Trophies!—
Why this Delay?

[To the Guards who prepare to destroy the Monuments.
Tam.
O Gods!—I must reveal him.
Unfold that Womb of Death— [the Guards open it.

Unhappy Cause
Of matchless Grief, come forth!

[The Child comes out of the Tomb and runs to Tamiris.
Phar.
Deceitful Woman!
Thus hast thou sav'd my Child?—I thought him past
The Reach of Anguish, Sorrow, or Disgrace,
But now he lives to all, and we to share 'em.

Ath.
Vengeance provides a noble Feast—All, All,
Shall feel my Rage—prepare ye—

Phar.
Tyrant, strike!—

Tam.
In Mercy, pause, and save us!

Phar.
Why Tamiris,
Why should we live?—Honour and Truth have left us.

AIR.
Ath.
Tho' all Hell's Troops between us lay,
And dar'd my lifted Arm to stay,
Thro' Lines of Fire I'd cut my Way,
The Call of Vengeance to obey.

[As he offers to draw, the Child advances before Pharnaces and Tamiris, and kneels. Athridates retires in Confusion.]
AIR.
Child.
For all the Woes my Parents bear,
I kneel, a willing Sacrifice;
Their virtuous Hearts, in Pity, spare,
And let my little Life suffice!

[Loud Alarms!]
Enter Gilades hastily—his Sword drawn.
Gil.
Lord Athridates!

Ath.
Whence this sudden Outcry?

Gil.
Pompey requires your instant Aid—from whence
The western Tow'r frowns o'er the torrid Heath,
A furious Sally by some Foes conceal'd,
Assail'd his Flank, who to the neighb'ring Marsh,
In wild Confusion fly.

Ath.
Our Force shall shield 'em.
Gilades, to thy Care I give those Traitors,
'Till my Return— [To Pharnaces, &c.]
—Yet hope not to escape me,
My Wrath is not less certain, tho' delay'd;
E'er Ev'ning Shades descend, prepare to see
Each other's streaming Gore.—

[Exit.
Gil.
[Aside]
Gods! did I hear
Those Words aright?—My Heart is chill'd with Horror.
Guards, mildly treat their Sorrows—to Pharnaces
Shew Honour, and to the Eastern Palace Gate
Conduct 'em strait—I follow—

Tam.
See my Lord,
The Gods yet smile upon us.

Phar.
No, Tamiris,
Our Title to their Care is forfeited.
Disgrace and Shame are on us,

Tam.
Yet forgive me!

Phar.
Tempt me not with thy Tears—I cannot bear them;
War, War, and Vengeance, quick devour my Griefs,
And root Remembrance from me.

Tam.
Oh! forbear!

AIR.
TRIO.
Tam.
[Kneeling]
Cruel! Husband! O impart
Some Comfort to my breaking Heart!

Child.
[Kneeling]
Dearest Father, O impart
Some Comfort to her breaking Heart!

Tam.
Pain and Torture be my Share!
But thy Frowns I cannot bear.
Husband!

Child.
Father!

Phar.
[Raising 'em.]
Spare my Shame!
Lost to Virtue as to Fame,
Pair'd in Misery we go,
Death alone can end our Woe.

[Exit guarded—leading Tamiris and Child in either Hand.]
Gil.
Their Griefs have enter'd in my Soul—O curst
Curst Athridates!—thine own Daughter!—say,
Nurse of each nice and tender Feeling, Nature,
What is thy Force, or where are thy Abodes,
If in a Parent's Breast thou do'st not dwell?
—What Impulse strikes my Mind?—May I believe
That Heav'n dooms me an Instrument?—It does—
Pleas'd I obey—far as my Pow'r extends
See me devoted to the great Behest.
AIR.

[Exit.
An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter Pompey attended by Guards—Selinda by Ladies.
Pompey speaks to an Officer, as he enters.
Pom.
Confine them all—they, and their hardy Chiefs,
To Rome must be led Captive—Such, my Fair,
I grieve to say must be Pharnaces' Lot,
Unless he swear Allegiance to our State.

Sel.
No Remedy?—Can Pompey then refuse
The Boon of her he loves?

Pom.
My Oath enjoins it.
I love Selinda—and revere the Gods!—
My Honour too is pledg'd—if I must forfeit,
That, or my promis'd Bliss in Love and thee,
Tho' Soul and Body sever at the Blow,
Thou must be torn away—I may be wretched,
But cannot be inglorious.
AIR.

Sel.
Noble Roman,
Forgive my Earnestness! the Favours shewn
To me, your Captive, freed and thus attended,
Should silence me—but think he is my Brother,
I saw him guarded, almost dead with Grief!
His Wife and Child—

Pom.
Forbear, I saw it too;—
And turned aside, so sore it smote my Heart.
Oh! would I could preserve him!—thou, Selinda,
Shalt to the Council, and assist our Suit,
Redeem'd from Athridates' barb'rous Hands,
There have I cited him to hear our Offers.
There he must have his Audience and resolve—
Pompey shall e'en descend to beg his Friendship,
Rather than lose Alliance with his Virtue.

Sel.
The Gods reward you!
AIR.

Pom.
Be thy Wish prophetic!
Speed we, to try our Art! yet e'er we go,
Here, my Delight, my Pride, to Heav'n I swear,
By Honour and by Arms, no more to breathe
My fervent Hopes, nor ask thy yielding Hand
'Till he resolve, lest I should owe the Gift
To any Motive but thy gen'rous Love.
Let him but meet my Wish, my lavish Soul
Shall know no Bounds of glorious Recompense.

AIR. DUETTO.
Pom.
Awhile may rav'nous Slaughter cease,
Disarm'd by heav'nly—smiling Peace!
And wild Ambition's furious Sway
To Friendship, and to Love, give way!

Sel.
That Wish, ye whisp'ring Breezes hear,
Oh! waft it to Pharnaces' Ear!
Thou, God of Peace, his Heart incline,
And teach it to accord with mine!

Pom.
May then my Sighs, my Wish express,
And teach Selinda's Heart to bless?

Sel.
Then shall my Sighs my Love express;
Be happy thou, if I can bless.

Pom.
Thus o'er the Altar's flaming Height,
Our Truth shall cast a purer Light,
While sacred Honour plights the Vow,
And decks the Crown for Hymen's Brow.

Sel.
Thus o'er the Altar's, &c.

[They repeat the Strain together, and Exeunt, attended.