 | Pharnaces |  |
SCENE I.
The Council-Chamber.Pompey discover'd magnificently attended. Pharnaces guarded. Selinda, &c.
Pharnaces.
Selinda, cease—forbear thy vain Persuasion;
The lazy Drop, that falls upon the Flint,
Hath more Effect.
Sel.
Yet listen to the Voice
Of Mercy, and of Happiness—
Phar.
No more!—
Mercy!—What's that?—Can I, a Kingdom's Heir,
Exil'd my native Walls, reduc'd to see
My Country bleeding, all our Asian Coast
By War laid waste, or sunk in Slavery;
Can I see this, yet to the Hand that caus'd it,
For Freedom bend, and sue for Mercy?—No—
Come Death, Destruction come!—
Pom.
Renown'd Pharnaces,
Let Reason take the Rein—the Terms I offer
Are such as may with Honour be embrac'd.
25
O hark to Reason's pow'rful Tongue,
Obey, obey her Voice;
Fond Hope attunes her soothing Song,
To bid thy Soul rejoice;
Obey, obey her Voice;
Fond Hope attunes her soothing Song,
To bid thy Soul rejoice;
Fair Freedom, deckt in all her Charms,
Invites thee to be blest,
And Friendship longs, with folding Arms,
To wrap thee in her Breast.
Invites thee to be blest,
And Friendship longs, with folding Arms,
To wrap thee in her Breast.
Sel.
Hear how the Victor courts thee to be happy.
Embrace his Love, my Brother.
Phar.
Hence, Selinda!
Abus'd, mistaken Maid!—Embrace his Love!
What Weakness thus misleads thy Mind?—Forbear
To try my Temper further—I'm resolv'd—
AIR.
Roman, thy soft, thy soothing Arts give o'er,
Of Friendship and of Freedom talk no more;
Hope, from her ample Hoard, brings no Relief,
And Reason serves but to encrease my Grief.
Of Friendship and of Freedom talk no more;
Hope, from her ample Hoard, brings no Relief,
And Reason serves but to encrease my Grief.
A Prince appeals!—O dare not thou deny
The Boon, for which his Sorrows loudly cry;
The only Mercy thou, with Pride, can'st shew,
Or! he receive—give, give the fatal Blow!
The Boon, for which his Sorrows loudly cry;
The only Mercy thou, with Pride, can'st shew,
Or! he receive—give, give the fatal Blow!
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In Sable clad, the Noon of Night approaches;
With earliest Dawn, my Pris'ners must to Rome.
Let me not see Pharnaces in the Number,
Spare me the Sorrow, and thyself the Shame.
My Oath and Honour equally forbid
The fatal Doom should be repeal'd, unless
Thou swear to meet my Wish—thine Aid in Arms
We ask not—take another Hour—that ended,
The Temple shall with ev'ry Rite be crown'd,
That mutual Leagues require; and at the Altar
We shall attend thine Answer—Gallant Prince,
Let it be Peace between us!—'Till that time,
Return to thine Apartment; O return,
And in thy Wife's and Infant's Sorrows read
Persuasion, far beyond the greatest Pow'r
Of human Tongue.
TRIO.
Pom.
Night, as thy gloomy Shades descend,
Our Troubles hide, our Tumults end,
That Concord's clear and gladsome Ray,
May mingle with the Dawn of Day!
Sel.
Night, as thy Shades incline to Rest,
Bring Quiet to the Warrior's Breast,
That Morn may see his Sorrows cease,
And wake his Soul to Love and Peace!
Phar.
Like me, to dark Despair a Prey,
O Night, eternal be thy Sway,
That staring Morn, with thousand Eyes,
No more upon my Shame may rise!
[Exit Pharnaces, guarded.
27
Ath.
His, his Command! away!
[To Gilades entering.
Roman, in me
Behold a Monarch pleading for his Right!
I claim my Captives; to my Rage restore them,
That Vengeance may be gratified!
Sel.
Great Conqueror,
Now interpose thy Pow'r, or all is lost.
Pom.
Athridates,
By virtue of my Place, by Oath enjoin'd,
And by our Country's Law, the Cause of Justice
I here support; and from Oppression's Gripe
Redeem the meanest Captive. Should Pharnaces
Swear Faith to Rome, 'tis mine to seal the Compact;
If not, her Senate doom him—'till that time,
He lives in my Protection—Thou art answer'd.—
Ath.
Vengeance and Death! Is then a King refus'd,
His Claim despis'd?
Pom.
Thou dost forget thyself.
AIR.
Disgrac'd with ev'ry Spot and Shame,
That mean Revenge and Slaughter bring;
No more usurp the sacred Name,
The hallow'd Scepter of a King.
When frantic Wars no longer rave,
'Tis his to succour and redress;
His Scepter is the Pow'r to save,
His Crown, and Triumph, is to bless.
That mean Revenge and Slaughter bring;
No more usurp the sacred Name,
The hallow'd Scepter of a King.
When frantic Wars no longer rave,
'Tis his to succour and redress;
His Scepter is the Pow'r to save,
His Crown, and Triumph, is to bless.
[Exeunt Pompey, Selinda, and Guards.
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Refus'd! insulted!—Curses on his Head!
The mighty Hunger of Revenge unsated!
But tremble, Roman! know, I came prepar'd
To meet thy Arrogance.—I well foresaw
His boasted Virtue center'd all in this,
To please a Woman!—whom to wanton Dalliance
He now enamour'd leads.—O blest Occasion!
Fit Time for Vengeance! while the City sleeps,
And he in Love dissolv'd.—Here, take this Paper,
It holds my full Instructions—Haste this instant,
Near to the Southern Quarter of the Palace
Assemble all our Troops, prepar'd to close
The Romans in, and at the Signal giv'n,
To drench them in their Gore.—
[Gives the Paper.
Pompey, enjoy
Thy last of Pleasures—for, this very Hour,
Thou sleep'st, to wake no more.
AIR.
The Thunders of Battle prepare
With Horror unwonted to roll;
Loud echoing Groans thro' the Air,
Are the Pleasure and Pride of my Soul.
With Horror unwonted to roll;
Loud echoing Groans thro' the Air,
Are the Pleasure and Pride of my Soul.
See Slaughter his Cavern unfolds,
Forth issues a terrible Flood,
While Vengeance exulting beholds,
And smiles o'er a Deluge of Blood.
Forth issues a terrible Flood,
While Vengeance exulting beholds,
And smiles o'er a Deluge of Blood.
[Exit, attended.
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Gil.
Now, cruel Tyrant! now my Justice dread,
It bursts, a Tempest, round thy guilty Head.
[Exit.
| Pharnaces | |