University of Virginia Library

ACT the SECOND.

Tigranes.
A false accuser deem'd!—artificer of fraud!
Those words, intemp'rate boy—thy phrenzy too
Deluded fair!—shall cost you dear attonement.
Yet till occasion rise—the king approaches.

[Grand warlike music.
A Military Procession: Enter Pharasmanes, &c.
Pharasmanes.
At length the fame of Pharasmanes' arms
Hath aw'd the nations round—Rome shrinks aghast
With pale dismay, recalls her trembling legions,
And deprecates the war—oh! what a scene
Of glorious havoc had yon field beheld,
If peaceful counsels had not check'd my fury!
—Valiant Tigranes, those rebellious slaves,
Thy care detected—have they suffer'd death?

Tigranes.
Your pardon, Sir—their doom as yet suspended—
The gen'rous prince—I would not utter aught
Should injure Teribazus—

Pharasmanes.
Ha!—proceed,
And give me all the truth—

Tigranes.
By his command—
His tender nature deem'd it barb'rous rigour
To urge their sentence—

Pharasmanes.
Vain aspiring boy!
Tell Teribazus,
[Enter Zenobia]
—tell th' unthinking prince,
The rash presumptuous stripling, these his arts,
These practices of popular demeanour,
Are treason to his father—let him know
Thro' wide Armenia and Iberia's realm
My will is fate—the slaves shall meet their doom.

Zenobia.
Oh! mighty king,—thus bending lowly down,—
An humble suppliant—

Pharasmanes.
Ariana here!
Thou beauteous mourner, let no care molest
Thy tender bosom;—rise and bid thy charms
Beam forth thy gentlest lustre to adorn
The glories of my triumph.

Zenobia.
Oh! a wretch like me
It best befits thus groveling on the earth
To bathe your feet with tears—

Pharasmanes.
It must not be—
[He raises her.
By heav'n renown in arms in vain attends me,
If the lov'd graces of thy matchless form
Are thus depress'd and languish in affliction,
Like flow'rs that droop and hang their pining heads
Beneath the rigour of relentless skies,

Zenobia.
If thou would'st raise me from the depths of woe,
Forgive those captives, whom thy fatal anger
Adjudg'd to death, nor let ill-tim'd resentment
Fall on the prince your son—'twas I—my tears—
My piercing lamentations won his heart
To arrest their doom—

Pharasmanes.
For traitors to my crown
Does Ariana plead?—

Zenobia.
For mild humanity
My suppliant voice is rais'd—I point the means
To add new glory to your fame in arms.
In naught so near can men approach the gods
As the dear act of giving life to others.—
In feats of war the glory is divided,
To all imparted,—to each common man,—
And fortune too shall vindicate her share.—
—But of sweet mercy,—the vast, vast renown
Is all your own; nor officer, nor soldier
Can claim a part—the praise, the honour'd praise,
Adorns the victor,—nor is th' eccho lost
'Midst shouts of armies, and the trumpet's sound.
He conquers even victory itself,
Than hero more—a blessing to the world!—

Pharasmanes.
Thy eloquence disarms my stubborn soul.
But wherefore urgent thus?—amidst the band
Is there who claims thy soft solicitude?

Zenobia.
A hoary sage—alas! a more than father—
The best of men—preserver of my being,—
A blameless shepherd!—rude of fraud and guilt,
Innoxious thro' his life—oh! mighty king,
Spare an old man,—a venerable sire!
Naught has your fortune greater than the pow'r
To serve humanity!—shew that your heart
Has the sweet grace, the gen'rous virtue too!

Pharasmanes.
My soul relents, and yields to thy entreaty,
Thy violence of pray'r—release him streight—
My brightest honours wait him;—honours fit
For him who gave thee birth;—for him whose virtue
Thy gen'rous soul deems worthy its esteem.

Zenobia.
Our humble station seeks nor pomp nor splendor—
We only ask, unenvied and obscure,
To live in blameless innocence,—to seek
Our calm retreat, embrac'd in depth of woods,
And dwell with peace and humble virtue there.

Pharasmanes.
That cold disdain, which shuns admiring eyes,
Attracts the more, exalting ev'ry charm.
No more of humble birth—thy matchless beauty,
Like gems, that in the mine conceal their lustre,
Was form'd to dignify the eastern throne.
My scepter, that strikes terror to each heart,
Grac'd by thy decent hand shall make each subject
Adore thy softer sway—The glorious æra
Of Pharasmanes' love,—his date of empire
With Ariana shar'd, henceforth begins,
And leads the laughing hours—but first the storm
Of war and wild commotion must be hush'd—
That mighty care now calls me to my throne,
To give the Roman audience; audience fit
To strike a citizen of Rome with awe,
When he beholds the majesty of kings.

[going.
Enter Teribazus.
Teribazus.
Dread Sir, the Roman embassy approaches.—
From yonder rampart, that invests your camp,
I heard their horses hoofs with eager speed
Beat the resounding soil.—

Pharasmanes.
Let 'em approach—
And thou, whose arrogance—but I forbear—
When Ariana pardons, my resentment
Yields to her smiles, and looks away its rage.
As when the crimes of men Jove's wrath demand,
And the red thunder quivers in his hand;
The queen of love his vengeance can disarm
With the soft eloquence of ev'ry charm;
Controul his passions with resistless sway,
And the impending storm smile to serenest day.

[Exit with his train.
Zenobia, Teribazus.
Teribazus.
And may I then once more, thou bright perfection,
May Teribazus once again approach thee,
While thus my father,—my ambitious father,
At sight of thee forgets his cruel nature,
And wonders how he feels thy beauty's pow'r?
Oh! may I—but I'm too importunate—
Your looks rebuke me from you,—and I see
How hateful I am grown!—

Zenobia.
Mistake me not
Nor rashly thus arraign the looks of one,
Whose heart lies bleeding here—thy gen'rous worth
Is oft the live-long day my fav'rite theme.
But oh! for me,—for wretched Ariana,
The god of love long since hath quench'd his torch,
And ev'ry source of joy lies dead within me.

Teribazus.
That cold averted look!—but I am us'd
To bear your scorn;—your scorn that wounds the deeper,
Mask'd as it is with pity and esteem.
Yet love incurable,—relentless love
Burns here a constant flame, that rises still,
And will to madness kindle, should I see
That hoard of sweets, that treasury of charms
Yield to another, to a barb'rous rival.
Who persecutes a son to his undoing.

Zenobia.
If Ariana's happiness would wound thee,
Thou'lt ne'er have cause to murmur or repine.
Naught can divorce me from the black despair
To which I've long been wedded.—

Teribazus.
Calm disdain,
I grant you, well becomes the tyrant fair
Whom Pharasmanes destines for his throne.
But oh! in pity to this breaking heart,
Give me, in mercy give some other rival,
Whom I may stab,—without remorse may stab,
'Midst his delight, in all his heav'n of bliss,
And spurn him from the joys, that scorpion-like
Shoot anguish here—here thro' my very soul.

Zenobia.
Alas! too gen'rous prince, the gods long since
Between us both fix'd their eternal bar.

Teribazus.
What say'st thou Ariana?—ha! beware,
Nor urge me to destraction—love like mine,
Fierce, gen'rous, wild,—with disappointment wild,
May rouse my desp'rate rage to do a deed
Will make all nature shudder.—Love despis'd
Not always can respect the ties of nature!—
—Driven to extremes the tend'rest passion scorn'd
May hate at length the object it adores,
And stung to madness—no!—inhuman fair,
You still must be,—in all vicissitudes,
In all the scenes misfortune has in store,
You still must be the sov'reign of my soul.
But for the favour'd, for the happy rival,
By heav'n, whoe'er he be,—despair and phrenzy
May strike the blow, and dash him from your arms
A sacrifice to violated love.

Zenobia.
Why thus distract yourself with vain suspicions?
—You have no rival, whom your rage can murder—
—None in the pow'r of fate—oh! Teribazus,
The wretched Ariana—long, long since—
—My heart sweels o'er—I cannot speak—a duty,
A rigorous duty bids me ne'er accept
Thy proferr'd love;—a duty, which, if known,
Would in eternal silence seal thy vows,
Turn all thy rage to tears, and, oh! my prince!
Bid thee respect calamities like mine.

[Exit.
Teribazus.
Yet Ariana stay—turn, turn and hear me—
She's gone, the cruel, unrelenting fair!
And leaves me thus to misery of soul.

Enter Zopiron.
Flamminius, from the Romans is arriv'd,
And bears the olive-branch—the king your father
Assembles all his nobles—

Teribazus.
Say, Zopiron,
Does Rome yield up Armenia?

Zopiron.
Rome is still
The scourge of lawless pow'r—a people's rights
The conscript fathers have resolv'd to shield,
And to the lineal heir assert the crown.

Teribazus.
May the stern god of battles aid their arms,
And fight with the deliverers of mankind!
Unnatural father! that would seize my scepter,
Mine as my brother's heir, and ravish with it
The idol of my soul—but now no more
His tyranny prevails—to empire rais'd,
'Twill be the pride of my exulting heart,
To lay my crown at Ariana's feet.

[Exit.
Zopiron.
Unhappy prince! should Pharasmanes know
His ardent passion for the captive maid,
Alas! his fatal rage—propitious pow'rs!
May these events,—may Rome's ambassador,—
Oh! may he come with concord in his train,
And far avert the ills my heart forebodes!—
But lo! Flamminius.—

Enter Rhadamistus.
Zopiron.
Welcome to these tents
The harbinger of peace!

Rhadamistus.
Does your king know
Flamminius waits his leisure?

Zopiron.
He prepares
To hear you, Roman!—

Rhadamistus.
As I tread his camp
There is I know not what of horror shoots
Thro' all my frame, and disconcerted reason
Suspends her function,—a black train of crimes,
Murders, and lust, and rapine, cities sack'd,
Nations laid waste by the destructive sword,
A thousand ruthless deeds all rise to view,
And shake my inmost soul, as I approach
The author of calamity and ruin.

Zopiron.
Then from a Roman, from a son of freedom
Let the fell tyrant hear the voice of truth,
The strong resistless strain, which liberty
Breathes in her capitol, till his proud heart
Shudder with inward horror at itself.

Rhadamistus.
In Pharasmanes' camp that honest stile!—
—Thy visage bears the characters of virtue.—
—Wilt thou impart thy name and quality?

Zopiron.
In me you see Zopiron!—deem me not
A vile abettor of the tyrant's guilt.—
To me Armenia trusts her sacred rights;
Hither her chosen deligate she sends me,
At the tribunal of Iberia's king,
To plead her cause, an injur'd people's cause!
Oh! never, never shall my native land
Yield to a vile usurper.

Rhadamistus.
Rome has heard
Thy patriot toil for freedom—Rhadamistus
Has heard thy gen'rous ardor in his cause,
And pants to recompence thy truth and zeal.

Zopiron.
Oh! name not Rhadamistus—now no more
The god-like youth shall bless Armenia's realm.
The fates just shew'd him to the wond'ring world,
And then untimely snatch'd him from our sight!—

Rhadamistus.
And didst thou know the prince?

Zopiron.
My lot severe
Denied that transport;—but the voice of fame
Endears his memory.

Rhadamistus.
A time may come
When you may meet, and both in friendship burn.
—Still Rhadamistus lives!—

Zopiron.
Said'st thou Flamminius!—
Lives he?

Rhadamistus.
Still he survives;—from death and peril
Sav'd by a miracle!—and now for him
Rome claims Armenia.—

Zopiron.
Claims Armenia for him!—
For Rhadamistus claims!—and will ye, gods!
Still will ye give him to a nation's pray'rs?

Rhadamistus.
Alas! he lives;—heart-broken, desolate,
In sorrow plung'd,—abandon'd to despair!—

Zopiron.
The righteous gods will vindicate his cause.—
His lov'd Zenobia, Mithridates' daughter,
That ev'ry excellence—does she too live?
Have the indulgent pow'rs watch'd o'er her fate,
And sav'd her for her people?—

Rhadamistus.
There, Zopiron,
There lies the wound that pierces to his soul,
The sharpest pang,—that rends—that cleaves his heart.
—Oh! never more shall lovely lost Zenobia,
That angel form, that pattern of all goodness,
No, never more—she's gone, for ever gone!—
Thou would'st not think—her barb'rous, cruel husband—
With his own hand—the recollected tale
Of horror shakes my frame to dissolution!—
Her husband!—he!—that dear, that tender form—
Oh!—poor Zenobia—oh!—

[Falls into a swoon.
Zopiron.
He faints;—he falls!—
Can Roman stoicism thus dissolve
In tender pity?—rise, Flamminius, rise;
He stirs; he breathes;—and life begins to wander
O'er his forsaken cheek.—Resume thy strength,
And like a Roman triumph o'er your tears.—

Rhadamistus.
I'll not be forc'd back to a wretched world.—
No;—let me,—let me die.—

Zopiron.
His eyes reject
The cheerful light—what can this anguish mean?

Rhadamistus.
You do but waste your pains;—it is in vain!—
Away and leave a murd'rer to his woes.—

Zopiron.
Why thus accuse thyself?—I'll not believe it—
Thus let me raise thee from the earth—

Rhadamistus.
Alas! (rising)
—
Despair weighs heavy on me.

Zopiron.
Still I must
Controul this sudden phrenzy—

Rhadamistus.
Oh!—Zopiron,
Here,—here it lies—

Zopiron.
Unburthen all, and ease
Your loaded heart—it cannot be—thou never wert
A murd'rer!—

Rhadamistus.
Yes!—the horror of the world!—
A murd'rous wretch!—the fatal Rhadamistus!—
'Twas I—these felon hands!—with treach'rous love
I clasp'd her in this curs'd embrace—I bore her
In these detested arms, and gave that beauty,
That tender form to the devouring waves.—
Plunge me, ye furies, in your lakes of fire—
Here fix,—fix all your vultures in my heart!—
And lo! they rush upon me (starts up)
see! see there!
With racks and wheels they come;—they tear me piece-meal—
'Tis just Zenobia!—I deserve it all—

[Falls upon Zopiron.
Zopiron.
Assist him guardian pow'rs!—your own high will
Guides these events!—revive, my prince, revive!

Rhadamistus.
Why thus recall me to despair and horror?
To bid me hate the light, detest myself,
Traitor to nature,—traitor to my love!—
—And yet, Zopiron,—yet I am not plung'd
So far in guilt, but thou may'st pity me!—
Heav'n, I attest,—yes you can witness gods!
I meant to perish with her—but the fates
Denied that comfort—from her circling arms
The torrent bore me far—expiring, senseless,
Gasping in death, the overflowing tide
Impetuous drove me on th' unwish'd for shore.
—There soon deserted by the merciless stream
A band of Romans, as from Syria's frontier
They rang'd the country round,—descried me stretch'd
Pale and inanimate—with barb'rous pity
They lent their aid, and chain'd me to the rack
Of inauspicious life!—

Zopiron.
For wond'rous ends
Mysterious providence has still reserv'd you,
To circulate the happiness of millions,
A patriot prince—

Rhadamistus.
Would they had let me perish!—
What has a wretch like me to do in life,
When my Zenobia's lost?—'tis true, my friend,
She begg'd to die—but that pathetic look,
Her tears, embraces, and those streaming eyes
Still beauteous in distress!—each winning grace,
Her ev'ry charm should have forbid the deed,
And pleaded for her life!

Zopiron.
And yet, my prince,
When self-acquitting conscience—

Rhadamistus.
Self-condemn'd
My soul is rack'd,—is tortur'd—not her child,
Her unborn infant,—the first fruit of love,
Not ev'n her babe could with the voice of nature
Plead for itself,—or for its wretched mother.—
They perish'd both,—she and her little one,
And I survive to tell it.—

Zopiron.
Let not grief
O'erwhelm your reason thus—what! when your father,
Your cruel father, reeking from the blood
Of Mithridates—

Rhadamistus.
Naught but death was left,
Yet ev'n that last, sad refuge was debarr'd me!—
E'er since I've liv'd in misery;—my days
Were colour'd all with anguish and despair!
Long from the Romans I conceal'd my name.
At length reveal'd me to a chosen friend;—
—Journey'd with him to Rome; and in full senate
Told all the dismal story of my woes.
The conscript fathers heard, and dropt a tear—
Then to quick vengeance fir'd, dispatch'd their legions
To wage the war; Paulinus leads them on,
And now to me commits this embassy,
With fully delegated pow'rs from Rome.

Zopiron.
With one united voice Armenia calls
For Mithridates' heir!—convinc'd by rumour
That thou ar't lost, the gen'ral cry demands
Your brother Teribazus—

Rhadamistus.
He, Zopiron,
Is to these eyes a stranger.—

Zopiron.
Hapless prince!
A cloud of woes lies brooding o'er his head.
A fair, a lovely captive rules his heart;
Her name is Ariana; and indeed
No wonder she attracts his soft regard,
And kindles all the vehemence of love.
The tyrant eyes her too with fierce desire,—
And ruin nods o'er Teribazus' head.

Rhadamistus.
By heav'n it shall not be—alas! I know
The pang of losing whom the heart adores.—
I'll yield him up Armenia—what are crowns
But toys of vain ambition, when the lov'd
The dear pertaker of my throne is lost?

Enter Tigranes.
Zopiron.
What would Tigranes?

Tigranes.
Pharasmanes calls
Flamminius to his presence—

Rhadamistus.
I attend him;—
So tell your king—

Tigranes.
Instant he waits thee Roman.

[Exit.
Rhadamistus.
How my heart trembles at the awful meeting!

Zopiron.
Then summon all your strength—the lapse of time
From early youth, when Pharasmanes saw you,
Affliction's inward stroke,—that Roman garb,
All will protect, and cloak you from detection!—

Rhadamistus.
Zopiron yes; in this important crisis,
When violated laws, and injur'd men,
When my own wrongs are lab'ring in my heart,
The great occasion calls for firmest vigour.
Yes, in this interview I will maintain
A Roman's part;—in Pharasmanes' soul
I'll wake the furies of detested guilt,
And pour the rapid energy of truth
Till ev'n to himself his crimes are known,
And the usurper tremble on his throne.