University of Virginia Library

ACT the THIRD.

Pharasmanes, on his Throne: Tigranes, Zopiron, Officers, &c.
Pharasmanes.
Where is this bold republican from Rome?
This enemy of kings?—Tigranes, thou
Bid the plebeian enter—Pharasmanes
Vouchsafes him audience.—

Enter Flamminius.
Pharasmanes.
Now, Flamminius, say
What motive brings you to Araxes' banks,
To wage this slow, this philosophic war?

Rhadamistus.
By me, unworthy of th' important charge,
By me, unequal to the arduous theme,
The conscript fathers here explain their conduct,
And justify the ways of Rome to kings.

Pharasmanes.
Roman, thou may'st declaim with all thy pomp
Of idle eloquence.

Rhadamistus.
No pow'r of words,
No graceful periods of harmonious speech
Dwell on my lip—the only art I boast
Is honest truth, unpolish'd, unadorn'd!—
Truth that must strike conviction to your heart,
Truth that informs you,—to usurp a crown,
For dire ambition to unpeople realms,
Are violations of each sacred law,
And bid the Roman eagle wing'd with vengeance
To the Araxes' margin bend her flight,
To tell destruction it shall rage no more.

Pharasmanes.
And dares Paulinus' soldier,—dar'st thou slave
Thus offer vile indignity, and mouthe
The language of your forum to a king?

Rhadamistus.
Rome knows, and owns you as Iberia's king,
But not Armenia's.—

Pharasmanes.
Ha!—

Rhadamistus.
Th' assembled senate
Acknowledges your vast renown in arms,
And honours the unshaken fortitude
Ev'n of a foe—but, Sir, the fortitude,
Whose brutal rage lays nations desolate,
It is the glory of imperial Rome
To humble and subdue—it is the glory
Of Rome, that spares the vanquish'd, 'tis her pride
To set the nations free;—to fix the bounds
Of the fell tyrant's pow'r;—to trace the circle
From which he must not move—these are the arts
The bright prerogative of Rome—of Rome,
The mistress of the world, whose conqu'ring banners
O'er Asia's realms so oft have wav'd in triumph,
And made ev'n kings her subjects—

Pharasmanes.
Ha! vain boaster!

Rhadamistus.
Made oriental kings, short by the knee
Accept their crown, with tears of joy accept it,
And be the viceroys of a Roman senate.

Pharasmanes.
And this to Pharasmanes?—has not yet
A train of conquest taught you to revere
This good right arm in war?—This arm the Parthians
Have felt with fatal overthrow—no spoil,
No trophies won from me have grac'd their triumphs;
No friends of mine were harness'd to their chariots;—
No captive chief, like your own mangled Crasius,
There roams a sullen ghost, and calls for vengeance,
For vengeance still unpaid, and calls in vain
For the sad funeral rites.—Would Rome presume
To wrest Armenia from me,—lo! my banners
From frosty Caucasus to Phasis' banks
Wave high in air, and shadow all the land.
Call your embattled legions—or does Rome,
All conqu'ring Rome, that mistress of the world,
Does she at length by her ambassadors
Negotiate thus the war?

Rhadamistus.
Rome, Sir, commands
The subject world, for she adores the gods—
And their all-pow'rful aid.—

Pharasmanes.
Would'st thou dispute
My lawful claim,—arm thee with sword and fire,
Not with vain subtleties, and idle maxims.—
Armenia's crown is mine,—deriv'd to me,
Heir to a brother, and a son deceas'd.—

Rhadamistus.
And can a murd'rer, can the midnight ruffian
Prove himself heir—by the assassin's stab?—

Pharasmanes.
Thou base reviler!—

[Comes forward and draws his saber.
Tigranes.
Moderate your fury;
[holding him]
It were unjust—

Zopiron.
The character he bears,—
The laws of nations—

Pharasmanes.
Thou base insolent!
Who dar'st to wound the ear of sacred kings
With a black crime, that's horrible to nature!—

Rhadamistus.
Yes horrible to nature!—yet the world
Has heard it all—thou art the man of blood!
A brother's blood yet smokes upon thy hand—
Not his white age, his venerable looks,
Not ev'n his godlike virtues could withhold thee!—
Gash'd o'er with wounds he falls;—he bleeds, he dies,
Without a groan he dies!—that is thy work,
Thine, murd'rer, thine!—

Pharasmanes.
No more—the hand of heav'n
Shook from the blasted tree the wither'd fruit—

Rhadamistus.
Forbear the impious strain—it is the stile
Ambition speaks, when for a crown it stabs,
Then dares, with execrable mock'ry dares,
Traduce the governing all-righteous mind.

Pharasmanes.
He harrows up my soul!—and do'st thou think
A madman's ravings—

Rhadamistus.
Since that hour accurst
Hast thou not plung'd thee deeper still in guilt?
Your son—your blameless son—

Pharasmanes.
His crimes provok'd
A father's wrath—his and Zenobia's crimes!—

Rhadamistus.
She too—untimely lost—unbidden tears
Forbear to stream, nor quite unman me thus.

Pharasmanes.
In tears!—by heav'n, thou woman-hearted slave,
Those coward symptoms have some latent spring
That lies conceal'd within that treach'rous heart.

Rhadamistus.
They are the tears humanity lets fall
When soft ey'd beauty dies untimely slain.—
But to avenge her death, array'd in terror
The Roman legions—

Pharasmanes.
Lead 'em to the charge.—
Thou quit my camp:—If when yon sun descends
Thou linger'st here, the title of ambassador
Shall naught avail to save thee from my fury.

Rhadamistus.
E'er that resign Armenia—Till the close
Of day, I give thee leisure to revolve
The vengeance Rome prepares—Thou know'st
With what a pond'rous arm her hardy sons
Lift the avenging spear.—Be timely wise,
Nor dare provoke your fate.

[Exit.
Pharasmanes.
Roman farewel!—
Do thou, Tigranes, issue forth my orders
From tent to tent, that each man stand prepar'd
For the dead midnight hour—with silent march
Then will I pour with ruinous assault
Upon th' astonish'd foe, my horses hoofs
Imbrue in blood, and give to-morrow's sun
A spectacle of horror and destruction.—

[He ascends his throne, and the back scene closes.
Enter Zenobia and Megistus.
Zenobia.
Oh! tell me all Megistus; let me hear
All that concerns my child,—my blooming boy,
My little Rhadamistus—is he safe?
Give me the truth—do not deceive a mother
Who doats upon her babe—is my child safe?

Megistus.
Dry up your tears—I cannot bear to see you
Afflicted thus—your infant hero's safe—
You may believe your faithful old Megistus—

Zenobia.
I do believe thee—but excuse my weakness—
My flutt'ring fears for ever paint him to me
By ruffians seiz'd, and as he sees the knife
Aim'd at his little throat, in vain imploring
For me by name, and begging my assistance,
While far, far off his miserable mother
No aid can give, nor snatch him to her heart.

Megistus.
I never yet deceiv'd you—by yon heav'n
The prince still lives—when I regain'd my cottage
After the toils of many a weary day,
I found him there—but griev'd and wond'ring much
Where his dear mother was.

Zenobia.
Megistus tell me,
Oh! tell me each particular; his looks,
All his apt questions, his enchanting words;
For I could hear of him for ever—lovely youth!
His father's image blooming in his boy!
Thro' sev'n revolving years my only comfort!—
—When from my eyes the sudden sorrows gush'd,
How would he look, and ask his wretched mother
What meant those falling tears?—alas! ev'n now
I see him here before me—did my child
Think his poor mother lost?

Megistus.
At first he seem'd
To pine in thought at your long weary absence,
And many a look he cast, that plainly spoke
His little bosom heav'd with various passions.
Still would he seek you in each well known haunt,
Each bow'r, each cavern, like the tender fawn
That thro' the woodland seeks its mother lost,
Exploring all around with anxious eye,
And looking still unutterable grief,
Lonely and sad, and stung with keen regret.

Zenobia.
Did my child weep?—not much I hope—

Megistus.
With soothing tales
I labour'd to beguile him from his sorrow;—
I promis'd your return; a gentle smile
Brighten'd his anxious look; he sigh'd content,
And then I led him to a safer dwelling
Among the shepherds of the Syrain vale,
Who all have sworn to guard him as their own,
And in due season lead him to the Romans.

Zenobia.
Oh! may those shepherds know the kindest influence
Of the indulgent heav'ns!—yet why not stay
To guard him—but i'll not complain—on me
Your cares were fix'd—oh! tell me how the gods
Watch'd ov'r all thy ways, and brought thee to me?
Where hast thou liv'd these many, many days?—

Megistus.
In bitterness of soul I've liv'd, thy fate
Thy tender form deep imag'd in my breast!
I rang'd the banks where the Arazes flows,
But bring, alas! no tidings of your lord.
Heart-broken, wearied out, I measur'd back
My feeble steps,—but thou wer't ravish'd thence;—
For thee I travers'd hills and forests drear;
Thee I invok'd, that ev'ry cavern'd rock,
Each vale, each mountain eccho'd with thy name.

Zenobia.
And here at length you find me, here encompass'd
With all the worst of ills—hence let us fly
To the bless'd Syrian vally, where my child
Wins with his early manhood ev'ry heart,
And calls for me, and chides this long delay.

Megistus.
Vain the attempt—one only way is left—
Reveal thee to th'ambassador of Rome.—
Safe in his train thou may'st escape this place,
And gain Paulinus' camp—Zenobia known
Will meet protection there.—

Zenobia.
The gods inspire
The happy counsel—ha!—Tigranes comes!
Retire Megistus (he goes out)
a gay dawn of hope
Beams forth at length, and lights up day within me.

Zenobia, Tigranes.
Tigranes.
Hail princess, destin'd to imperial sway,
To grace with beauty Pharasmanes' throne!
By me the impatient king requests you'll fix
The happy nuptial hour.—

Zenobia.
Thou might'st as well
Command me wed the forked lightnings blaze
That gilds the storm, and be in love with horror.

Tigranes.
Take heed, rash fair!—an eastern monarch's love,
Ardent as his, must not be made the sport
Of tyrant beauty—when a rival dares
Oppose his sov'reign's wish—

Zenobia.
Does Pharasmanes,
Say,—does your king permit his spies of state,
That curse of human kind, to breathe their whispers
In his deluded ear?

Tigranes.
Full well 'tis know
That Teribazus bids you thus revolt,
And draws your heart's allegiance from your king.

Zenobia.
Thou vile accuser!—if the prince's virtues
Have touch'd my bosom, what hast thou to urge?
—What if a former Hymeneal vow
Has bound my soul?—what if a father, Sir,
A father dear as my heart's purple drops,
Enjoin a rigid duty ne'er to share
The throne of Mithridates with a murderer?

Tigranes.
Madam, those words—

Zenobia.
Thou instrument of ill!
Who still ar't ready with a tale suborn'd,
And if thou ar't not perjur'd, dar'st betray;—
Away—and let thy conscience tell the rest.

[Exit.
Tigranes,
alone.
Vain haughty fair!—thou hast provok'd my rage
By wrongs unnumber'd—but for all those wrongs
Soon shall inevitable ruin seize thee.—

Enter Rhadamistus.
Rhadamistus.
Perhaps e're this your king's tumultuous passions
Sink to a calm, and reason takes her turn.
Then seek him, Sir, and bear a Roman's message,
The terms of peace humanity suggests.
Tell him Flamminius wishes to prevent
The rage of slaughter, and the streams of blood
Which else shall deluge yonder crimson plains.

Tigranes.
Already, Roman, his resolve is fix'd.—
War, horrid war impends.—

Rhadamistus.
And yet in pity
To human kind, to the unhappy millions
Who soon shall die, and with their scatter'd bones
Whiten the plains of Asia,—it were best
To sheathe the sword, and join in Rome's alliance.
Wilt thou convey my message?

Tigranes.
I obey.—

[Exit.
Rhadamistus,
alone.
May some propitious pow'r inspire his heart,
And touch the springs of human kindness in him.
Else against whom amidst the charging hosts
Must Rhadamistus' sword be levell'd?—ha!—
Spite of his crimes he is my father still—
And must this arm against the source of life—
Nay more,—perhaps against a brother too,
—A brother still unknown!—he too may die
By this unconscious hand!—this hand already
Inur'd to murder whom my heart adores!—
—My brother then may bleed!—and when in death
Gasping he lies, and pours his vital stream,
Then in that moment shall the gen'rous youth
Extend his arms, and with a piteous look
Tell me—a brother doth forgive his murderer?—
—Gods! you have doom'd me to the blackest woe,
To be a wretch abhorr'd, author of crimes
From which my tortur'd breast revolts with horror!—
—Who's there?—a youth comes forward—now be firm,
Be firm my heart, and guard thy fatal secret!—

Enter Teribazus.
Teribazus.
Illustrious Roman,—if misfortune's son
A wretched,—ruin'd—miserable prince
May claim attention—

Rhadamistus.
Ha!—can this be he!
The graces of his youth,—each feeling here,
Here at my heartstrings tell me 'tis my brother!

[aside.
Teribazus.
I see you're mov'd, and I intrude too far.—

Rhadamistus.
Pursue your purpose—warmest friendship for you
Glows in this breast—

Teribazus.
Tho' Pharasmanes' fury
Maintains a fix'd hostility with Rome,
Blend not the son with all a father's crimes.—

Rhadamistus.
Go on—I pant to hear—

Teribazus.
My father's cruelty
Each day breaks out in some new act of horror,
Nor lets the sword grow cool from human blood.
First in his brother's breast he plung'd it;—then
Inflam'd to fiercer rage 'gainst his own son,
Oh! Rhadamistus! thou much injur'd prince!—

Rhadamistus.
And didst thou love that brother?

Teribazus.
Gen'rous Roman,
He liv'd far hence remote—I ne'er beheld him,
But the wide world resounded with his fame.

Rhadamistus.
Hold, hold my tears!—oh! they will burst their way
At this his virtuous tenderness and love!

[aside.
Teribazus.
And dost thou weep too Roman?

Rhadamistus.
From such horror,
And so much cruelty my nature shrinks.—
—Whatever purpose rolls within thy breast,
Boldly confide it—shall I arm'd with vengeance
Assault the purple tyrant in his camp?
Or wilt thou join my steps;—then in the front
Of a brave vet'ran legion head the war,
Seek the usurper 'midst his plumed troops,
And thus avenge mankind?

Teribazus.
No; far from me,
Far be the guilt of meditating aught
Against the life frem whence my being sprung.
Let him oppress me,—he's a parent still!—

Rhadamistus.
He rives my heart!—oh! what a lot is mine!

[aside.
Teribazus.
Not for myself I fear; but oh! Flamminius,
A lovely captive,—'tis for her I tremble;—
For Ariana,—for that sweet perfection;—
She is her sex's boast!—her gentle bosom
Fraught with each excellence!—her form and feature
Touch'd by the hand of elegance;—adorn'd
By ev'ry grace, and cast in beauty's mould!—
—Her Pharasmanes means to ravish from me.—
But thou convey her hence—'tis all I ask.—

Rhadamistus.
By heav'n I will—do thou too join our flight;
—Armenia shall be thine, and that sweet maid
Reward thy goodness with connubial love,
Adorn thy throne, and make a nation bless'd!—

Teribazus.
Make Ariana happy;—bear her hence
And save those bright unviolated charms
From Pharasmanes' pow'r—when wish'd for peace
Settles a jarring world, Flamminius then,
Then will I seek thee.—Wilt thou then resign her?

Rhadamistus.
Yes then, as pure as the unsullied snow
That never felt a sunbeam;—then I'll give her
Back to thy faithful love.

Teribazus.
Thou gen'rous Roman,
In gratitude I bow—she's here at hand;
A moment brings her to you, while at distance
I watch each avenue, each winding path,
That none intrude upon your privacy.—

[Exit.
Rhadamistus,
alone.
At length I've seen my brother;—know how much
He differs from his father!—he shall seek
The Roman tents;—I'll there disclose myself;
There will embrace him with a brother's love.—
Oh! how the tender transport heaves and swells,
Till thus the fond excess disolves in tears!—

Enter Megistus, leading Zenobia.
Zenobia.
Alas! my heart forebodes I know not what—

Megistus.
Dispel each doubt—this is your only refuge.—

Zenobia.
Thou gen'rous Roman,—if distress like mine—
If an unhappy captive may approach thee—

Rhadamistus.
To me affliction's voice—ye pow'rs of heav'n!
That air!—those features! that remember'd glance!

Zenobia.
If thus a wretch's presence can alarm you—

Rhadamistus.
The music of that voice?—such once she look'd!
And if I had not plung'd her in the stream,—
I could persuade myself—

Zenobia.
Those well known accents!
Those tender soft regards!—nay mock me not!—
I could not hope to see thee—tell me—ar't thou—
That once ador'd!—oh!

(faints into Megistus' arms.)
Megistus.
Ah! her strength forsakes her—
Support her heav'n!—

(catches her in his arms.)
Rhadamistus.
Ye wonder-working gods!
Is this illusion all? or does your goodness
Indeed restore her?—if I do not dream,
If this be true,—oh! let those angel-eyes
Open to life, to love, and Rhadamistus.

Megistus.
What further miracles doth heav'n prepare?—

Zenobia.
Forgive my weakness—the air-painted image
Of my lov'd lord—and see!—again it's present!—
That look that speaks the fond impassion'd soul!
Yes, such he was!—oh! ar't thou—tell me—say—
Ar't thou restor'd me?—ar't thou Rhadamistus?—

Rhadamistus.
I have not murder'd her!—benignant gods!
I am not guilty—my Zenobia lives!—

Zenobia.
It is my lord—oh! I can hold no longer,—
But thus delighted spring to his embrace,
Thus wander o'er him with my tears and kisses,
And thus, and thus,—speak my enraptur'd soul.

Rhadamistus.
She lives! she lives! what kind protecting god,
Long lost, and long lamented, gives thee back,
Gives me to view thee, and to hear thy voice
With joy to ecstacy, with tears to rapture?

Zenobia.
This good old man—'twas he preserv'd me for you.—

Megistus.
Oh! day of charms!—oh! unexpected hour!
I have not liv'd in vain—these gushing eyes
Have seen their mutual transports!—

Rhadamistus.
Gen'rous friend,
Come to my heart,—Zenobia's second father!—

Zenobia.
Thou art indebted more than thou can'st pay him,—
Indebted for our infant babe preserv'd,
The blossom of our joys!—thou can'st not think
How much he looks, and moves, and talks like thee.—

Rhadamistus.
Oh! mighty gods!—it is too much of bliss,
Too exquisite to bear!—these barb'rous hands
Had well nigh murder'd both my wife and child!—
—Wilt thou forgive me—oh! my best delight,
Wilt thou receive a traitor to your arms?
—Wilt thou Zenobia?

Zenobia.
Will I, gracious heav'n?
Thou source of all my comfort!—

Megistus.
Ha! beware,
Beware my prince!—but now with hasty step
I saw Tigranes circling yonder tent.

Rhadamistus.
Th' ambassador of Rome he seeks, on bus'ness
Of import high—I will prevent his speed—
—And must I then so soon depart Zenobia?

Zenobia.
Hence, quickly hence—anon we'll meet again—

Rhadamistus.
Yes, we will meet; the gods have giv'n thee to me,
And they will finish their own holy work.

[Exit.
Megistus.
My pray'rs are heard at length—Zenobia still
Shall be Armenia's queen.—

Zenobia.
Oh! good Megistus,
Heav'n has been bounteous, and restor'd my lord.—
With him I'll fly, wrapt in the gloom of night,
And thou, Megistus, thou shal't join our flight;
Plac'd near his throne thy gen'rous zeal shall share
The bright reward of all thy toil and care;
While I, redeem'd at length from fierce alarms,
Forget my woes in Rhadamistus' arms.