University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

An outer Apartment in the Palace of Sinope. Pharnaces, with his Sword bloody, followed by Tamiris, and the Child.
Pharnaces.
No more, Tamiris—seek not, with thy Tears,
T'unnerve my Fortitude—tho' lost to Fortune,
I live to Glory—my imperial Mind,
Yet unsubdued—and this my blood-stain'd Hand
Shall yet revenge it's Master—yet shall rend
Yon crested Laurels from insulting Rome.

Tam.
Pharnaces—stay—

Phar.
I cannot—must not hear.—
AIR.

Tam.
My Husband—yet relent—Ah cruel Virtue!
AIR.

Phar.
Tamiris—rise!—Thy Happiness and Honor,
Dear as my own, have been my righteous Care,
And ever shall—restrain thy Tears, and hear me.—
Take thou this Sword, yet reeking with the Gore
Of dying Foes—observe it well—and swear
Thereon, by all the Love thy Heart e'er boasted,
By all Life's Hopes, and by the Gods who crown 'em,
Thou wilt fulfil whatever I enjoin.

Tam.
My boding Heart!—I swear—

Phar.
Once more I go
T'avenge a People's Wrongs, a Father's Fall—
Should I return no more, plunge that, I charge thee,
Into yon Infant's Breast—nor let the Heir
Of Pontus live a Prey to Chains and Insult—
Preserve him from that Lot—die then thyself,
And haste to meet the Partner of thy Soul,
Where Tyranny and Bondage are no more.

Tam.
Immortal Gods! is this Pharnaces' Order?

Phar.
It is—A Husband and a King commands.
AIR.

[Exit, with Attendants.
Tam.
He's gone—he flies—and swifter than the Bark
Driv'n by the Tempest's Rage—on certain Ruin
Dashes.

Child.
Why weeps my Mother? what provokes
My Father?—and what means this bloody Sword?

Tam.
Unhappy Child!—I would—but cannot speak—
Hold, hold, my Brain!—Oh great, All-guiding Pow'r,
Who lov'st to succour Virtue, lend thine Aid,
Sooth my Distress, and rescue me from Madness
AIR.

[Exit, the Child follows.
SCENE changes to an open Plain, with a View of Sinope at a Distance.
A March.
Enter Pompey and Athridates, with Forces.
Pom.
At length, the Roman Eagle wings his Flight,
With Terror plum'd, o'er half the Asian World.
Pharnaces too is vanquish'd.

Ath.
Yet refuses
To stoop to Pompey's Arms, and own his Valour;
But coop'd within Sinope's haughty Walls,
By desp'rate Rage, and Arrogance impell'd,
Attempts to raise new Force.

Pom.
Attempts in vain!
He but provokes the Blow, he should avoid:
Such Virtue should not die.

Ath.
Not die!—the Traytor!
He, who unable in the Paths of War
To wreak his Enmity, by Darkness came
And treacherously stole my only Child—
She too, ungrateful Girl! to join the Robber!
So may the Fates with Laurels crown my Brow,
As I would see the Tide, that fills his Veins,
Shed Drop by Drop i'th'Dust!—Behold the Gate,
Which leads to his Retreat—This Hour is mine.
AIR.

Pom.
Restrain this headstrong Madness, Athridates;
Let Pompey's Voice, at least, his Pow'r prevail;
Thou shalt not go to act so damn'd a Deed.
Destroy thy Child!—My Soul is damp'd with Horror;
I'll stand between, and shield thee from thyself.
For Glory, not for Cruelty, we fight;
Nor shall our Cause be stain'd—thy Rage misleads thee.

Ath.
Would'st thou deprive my Sword of just Revenge,
That noble Thirst of Arms and Royalty?

Pom.
Far other Attributes and Passions grace
Those sacred Names—True Valour dwells with Mercy.
AIR.

Flourish.
Enter Gilades with Selinda in Chains, Guards, &c.
Gil.
Behold, my royal Master, what a Prize
Hath this Day, grac'd my Arms.

Pom.
A Prize indeed!

[Aside.
Ath.
Pharnaces' Sister!—Oh! all bounteous Powers,
Now ye are kind indeed! to Gifts like these,
The Tribute of an o'ercharg'd Heart is poor.

Pom.
It must be so! within her lovely Mien
Virtue's enthron'd, and bids the graceful Seat,
Where she resides, be safe and undefil'd.

[Aside.
Ath.
Traitress, approach, and with thy streaming Blood
Haste to appease, in part, a Monarch's Wrongs.

[Draws.
Sel.
Whence is thy Rage? wherein have I offended?

Ath.
Thou shar'st Pharnaces' Blood—for that thou dy'st.

Sel.
Inhuman Sentence!—die for Nature's Fault!
[As Athridates prepares to strike, she kneels to Pompey, who interposes.]
Oh! save me from his Wrath—thou gallant Roman,
To thee, to thee I bend—or I mistake,
Or Mercy's Beam adorns thy Brow—O spare
My Youth, my Innocence—

Pom.
Illustrious Maid,
Rise and be safe!—misguided Athridates,
My Eldership I claim, and will assert,
Ev'n against thee, my Rights—When Virtue sues,
Rage smooths his Brow, and listens with Delight.
She is my Captive now.—Let thy Resentment
On Foes employ its Fury—let Pharnaces,
Who knows to wield the Spear, and bend the Bow,
Let him be sought—hence, with thy fell Armenians,
Rase these proud Walls, and act, at least, a Deed,
That will not misbecome a Soldier's Arm.

AIR.
Ath.
A Monarch's Duty claims me,
A Soldier's Pride inflames me!
Curst Pharnaces! lo, I come!
Prepare, prepare to meet thy Doom!

[Exit, with Forces.
Sel.
Recal thy dread Command, oh gallant Chief!
Why must Pharnaces fall by thy Decree?

Pom.
Rome and her Senate doom him—

Sel.
And with him
All of his Blood—then be it so!—

Pom.
Fear nothing.
Oppression shall not reach thy Innocence,
Be that my Care!

Sel.
To thy Compassion then
I trust—

Pom.
And to my Love.

Sel.
Love!—do not mock
Your Captive.

Pom.
Could I injure, by Deceit,
Such Virtue?—

Sel.
Still I fear—within thy Power,
Have I not all to dread?—In Asia
Pompey's a Warrior only—What's Selinda?
AIR.

Pom.
Banish all Fear and hear me, [raising her.]
hear a Roman,
A Warriour and a Prince!—One Moment's Glance
Hath vanquish'd all my Soul—and Prudence bids
That from thy Pow'r I fly, lest I forget
The Duties of my Station. This brave Man,
(Whom, for his Feats in War, and private Merit,
I stile my Friend) shall be thy Beauty's Guardian
'Till I once more behold thee—check thy Tears,
And let thy Heart be still, (The Officer unchains Selinda)
secure in this,
My Care is not to thee alone confin'd,
But, far as Honour will allow, it reaches
To all thy Soul holds dear—Attend her, Lucius.
AIR.

[Exit, with Forces.
Sel.
A Friend!—a Lover!—no!—And yet his Words
Seem'd by the Breath of Truth inspired—my Breast
Throbs with a dubious Passion; Hope and Doubt—
(Hope for myself, my Friends—yet Doubt for all)
Equal engage, and raise a War within.—
One Way alone remains—to bear my Lot
With Fortitude—to wait, with patient Virtue,
Whatever Fate ordains; and keep in mind
That gracious Breath, that bade my Heart be still.
AIR.

[Exit, attended by Lucius and Guard.