University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

A wood.
Rhadamistus and Ægle.
Rhad.
Whence hadst thou, nymph, that ring?

Ægl.
A stranger's hand
Intrusted it to me.

Rhad.
To what intent?

Ægl.
He, with this token, to the vale of myrtles
Gave me commission, in Zenobia's name,
To invite prince Tiridates.

Rhad.
Didst thou seek him?

Ægl.
I sought him not.

Rhad.
And why?

Ægl.
Because I deem'd
Some treachery was design'd.

Rhad.
[aside.]
In evil hour
Did Zopyrus to this nymph intrust his charge.
[to her.]
But wherefore didst thou then accept from him
The secret message?

Ægl.
Lest another hand
Should execute his purpose.

Rhad.
[aside.]
Now I know
Why I so long have staid, and staid in vain,
For Tiridates at the appointed valley.

Ægl.
I go to tell Zenobia all the treason
My thoughts suggest.

Rhad.
Forbear: it nought avails
To tell Zenobia.

Ægl.
Yes, 'twere meet she knew
That some dark traitor plots against her fame
And spotless faith.

Rhad.
And canst thou know to whom
Belongs the name of traitor, or of faithful?

Ægl.
And canst thou doubt?

Rhad.
There is no longer doubt—
Zenobia's falsehood—

Ægl.
Hold: thou mak'st my blood
Run cold with horror.

Rhad.
Know—

Ægl.
I know full well
That little thou deserv'st such truth and love.

Rhad.
But hear me, nymph, I am—

Ægl.
Unjust, ungrateful,
Inhuman, cruel—

[going.
Rhad.
If thou canst, remove
Suspicion from me.

[following her.
Ægl.
Rather let it still
Dwell in thy breast, and be thy punishment.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Rhadamistus
alone.

[as he is going he hears the voice of Zenobia: he stops to listen, then returns.
Zen.
[within.]
But whither do we go?

Rhad.
What voice is that?
Or I'm deceiv'd, or 'twas my wife that spoke—
The sound was surely thence—now let me seek her;
And favouring Fortune smile upon my wishes!

[while Rhad. goes out the way where he heard the voice, Zen. and Zop. enter by another.

SCENE III.

Zenobia, Zopyrus. Rhadamistus, who enters again unseen behind.
Zen.
[entering.]
And yet I know not whither thou would'st lead me.

Zop.
Fear nothing: follow me.

Zen.
[aside.]
My heart presages
Some evil is at hand.

[stops.
Rhad.
[to himself.]
Behold her here,
And with her Zopyrus.—Awhile I'll listen,
And prove his truth.

[stands apart.
Zop.
[to Zen.]
What dost thou? Come, Zenobia,
I lead thee to thy husband.

Zen.
When, O! when
Shall we behold him? Zopyrus, but now
Thou feign'dst him little distant.—Long, ah! long
With thee I've stray'd in these bewildering paths,
And yet I see him not.

Zop.
Thou hast him present.

Zen.
My husband present!—O! immortal Gods!
Say how—where is he?

Zop.
I—I am thy husband.

Zen.
Eternal Powers!

Rhad.
[apart.]
Ha!—let the traitor die—
No—let us first learn all th' extent of treason
His impious arts have plann'd.

[about to draw his sword and discover himself; he stops.
Zen.
And hast thou thus,
Thus dar'd to address the wife of Rhadamistus?

Zop.
I now address his widow.

Zen.
Heavenly Powers!
Does not my husband live?

Zop.
But now I sent him
To meet his certain death.

Rhad.
[apart.]
I burn with rage!

Zen.
O! perjur'd traitor! Is it thus thou keep'st
Thy plighted faith?

Zop.
In what have I deceiv'd thee?

Zen.
In what? And said'st thou not that Rhadamistus,
Or Tiridates must, by doom severe,
Be made a wretched victim?

Zop.
'Tis most true.

Zen.
That I might one of these at choice elect,
And thou would'st to my tears ensure his safety?

Zop.
Even so.

Zen.
And did I not entreat thee then
To spare a husband's life?

Zop.
Thou say'st it well:
I swore to obey thee, and to keep my oath,
Preserv'd for thee a spouse in—Zopyrus.

Rhad.
[apart.]
I can no longer hold.

Zen.
O! wretched prince!
O! my betray'd, my murder'd Rhadamistus!

Zop.
In vain thou call'st on him, who now resides
Amongst the dead.

Rhad.
[discovering himself.]
Thou liest—he lives, thou traitor!
To be thy punishment.

Zop.
I am betray'd.

Zen.
My life! my lord!

Rhad.
Thou double traitor! thus—

[draws, and is about to attack him.
Zop.
Forbear, or by this hand Zenobia dies.

[draws a dagger with his right hand and seizes Zen. with his left, in act to strike her.
Rhad.
[stopping.]
What would'st thou do?

Zen.
O! cruel, cruel fortune!

Rhad.
I cannot curb the fury that impels me—
—Most impious wretch!

Zop.
If thou but mov'st a step,
Zenobia's dead.

Rhad.
What misery is mine!

Zen.
O! my lov'd spouse! since Heaven restores my fame,
Let not his threats affright thee—No, my blood
Shall from this bosom freely flow, if pure
The purple stream, my soul, from mortal bonds
Be gladly loos'd; if loos'd, she leave behind
Without a blush, this chaste, unsullied frame.

Rhad.
O! dearest part of me! O! lively pattern
Of loyalty and truth—to find thee thus,
And in such hands!—O! Zopyrus! have pity!
If still thou bear'st a sense of human feelings,
Some remnant of the man—Restore my wife:
I never, never will exact revenge;
I swear it here—forget, forgive thee all.

Zop.
O! no—I shall not trust thy plighted faith—
Depart and leave me.

Rhad.
By the immortal Gods—

Zop.
Depart—or see her perish.

Rhad.
Savage monster!
A fury worse than black Cocytus' fiends:
O! let me tear from that detested bosom—

[advancing.
Zop.
Take heed—

[threatening Zen.
Rhad.
O! hold—Where art thou, Rhadamistus!
O! give me counsel, Gods!—my wife!—thou traitor!
What torture do I feel!—At once my soul
Laments and raves—my heart is torn between
Contending pangs of tenderness and rage!

Zop.
Zenobia, come with me—thou, Rhadamistus,
Unless thou mean'st to see her dead before thee,
Beware how thou pursu'st us.

Rhad.
Pity now
Gives way in me to fury.

Zop.
Come, Zenobia.

Zen.
And does my lord forsake me thus?

Rhad.
O! no—
Take this, thou wretch!

[about to attack him.
Zop.
Then let her die.

[about to stab Zen.
Rhad.
O! hold!
Yet, yet forbear.

SCENE IV.

Enter Tiridates.
Tir.
What would'st thou, impious slave?

[seizing him.
Zop.
O Heaven!

Tir.
Resign thy weapon.

[wrests the dagger from him.
Zop.
I am lost!

[he flies.
Rhad.
Perfidious traitor! vainly would'st thou 'scape me.

[Exit in a rage.

SCENE V.

Zenobia, Tiridates.
Zen.
Ah! whither goest thou? Stay, my lord—

[going after Rhad.
Tir.
Ingrate!
So soon would'st thou forsake me?

Zen.
Prince—O Heaven!
I begg'd of thee to shun me.

Tir.
Ah! what mystery
Is hid beneath thy words?—I will obey—
But tell me, wherefore dost thou fly me thus?

Zen.
Thou wilt know all, and know it all too soon:
Farewell.

[going.
Tir.
Forgive me—I must follow.

Zen.
No—
It cannot—must not be.

Tir.
But now I saw thee
Threaten'd by ruffian force.—The hand that threaten'd
I knew not, nor the hand that would have sav'd thee,
I could not bear to leave thee thus alone,
Expos'd to certain peril.

Zen.
Greater peril
Awaits me here with thee.

Tir.
At least I may—

Zen.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Tiridates
alone.
I know not what Zenobia's words import,
Nor what myself intends.—She drives me from her,
Yet tells not why.—There's something from that lip
So sweetly sounds; there's something on that brow
So awful shines, as ever must defend her,
And strike all censure dumb.

SCENE VII.

Enter Mithranes.
Mit.
My lord, I bring
Most welcome tidings—Rhadamistus now
Is made your prisoner.

Tir.
Ha! and where, Mithranes?

Mit.
He came himself, unweeting, midst your troops
To wear your ready chains.

Tir.
Relate the whole.

Mit.
In swift pursuit a flying warrior's steps
He follow'd, and with matchless boldness enter'd
Within your tents.—Against a thousand swords
That glitter'd round to oppose his furious passage,
Eager he sought the object of his vengeance.
At once he saw, o'ertook, and pierc'd his breast.

Tir.
Unheard-of rashness!

Mit.
Yet all is not told.
This done, he hop'd again to leave the valley,
And might have scap'd, but at his greatest need
His sword broke short, and left his hand defenceless.
And still, though numbers round him countless press'd.
With threatening arms, alone, without a weapon,
He scarcely deign'd to yield.

Tir.
The wretch who fell
Beneath his rage was surely he, whom late
I here beheld.

SCENE VIII.

Enter Ægle behind, unseen.
Mit.
The life of Rhadamistus
Behold is in your hand.

Ægl.
[to herself.]
What do I hear?

Mit.
O! let the traitor suffer for his crimes.

Tir.
Then be it so—Mithranes, let us go.

[going.
Ægl.
[coming forward.]
Forbear, O! prince, forbear to vent your anger
On one whom cruel Fortune's frown pursues.

Tir.
And what can urge thee to defend the life
Of this perfidious?

Ægl.
Yet I deem not, sir,
His guilt so certain.

Tir.
But Zenobia's father
By treason he destroy'd.

Mit.
And next the daughter
He sought to slay: for he, whose eyes beheld
The assassin's barbarous stroke, could not deceive me.

Ægl.
Think better yet.—We must not lightly give
Our faith to common rumour.—With a foe
Mercy is ever lovely.

Tir.
Tiridates
Might in oblivion steep his private injuries,
But never can forgive Zenobia's wrongs:
To her his blood in sacrifice is due.

Ægl.
Believe me, she requires not this.

Tir.
Though she
Demand it not, her virtue claims it from me.

[going.
Ægl.
Yet hold—O Heavens! [aside.]
Believe what now I speak:
If thou canst love Zenobia, then respect
The life of Rhadamistus: headlong zeal
Would plunge thee deep in error; thou would'st serve
Zenobia's honour, and thou kill'st her peace.

Tir.
Ha! does she love him then?

Ægl.
Alas! my lord,
She would—if more than this thou seek'st to know,
I must—Already have I said too much.

[aside.
Tir.
Thou seem'st confus'd—What can this mean, Mithranes?
A chilling damp—'tis true, that Rhadamistus
Was once my rival.—Now conceal'd he lurks
Amidst these woods, where too Zenobia dwells.
In her defence he stood, and she pursued
His flying steps; but me she heeds no more:
Ægle has since declar'd.—O! gentle nymph,
[to Ægl.
Whate'er thou know'st in pity now reveal.

Ægl.
I can no further speak—Enough already
My lips have utter'd.

Tir.

[Exit.

SCENE IX.

Ægle, Mithranes.
Ægl.
Unhappy prince! O! how my bosom feels
For all his sufferings! How that pleasing aspect,
His eye's soft glance, the music of his words
Command each heart to share with him in sorrow;
A lover form'd like him, alas! deserves
Far other fate.—O! that 'twere given to Ægle
To make his days more happy!

Mit.

[Exit.

SCENE X.

Ægle
alone.

[Exit.

SCENE XI.

A garden belonging to the palace of the kings of Armenia, inhabited by Tiridates.
Tiridates, Mithranes.
Mit.
'Tis all too true: too well you now conceive
The words of Ægle.—Yes, Zenobia's love
Is fix'd on Rhadamistus: when she heard
Your troops had made him prisoner, from her cheek
The colour fled: with eager speed she flew
To reach the tents, and sought admittance to him,
But found access denied.

Tir.
And yet, Mithranes,
I cannot, must not think—

Mit.
By her you soon
Will find the truth confirm'd.—She comes to ask
Of you the prisoner's life.

Tir.
O Heaven! she dares not
Insult me thus.

Mit.
Ere this she had preferr'd
To you her suit, but that two Roman warriors,
Who bring a written message from their camp,
Detain her now impatient on the way.

Tir.
She must not meet my eyes—O! no, th' ingrate,
I cannot bear her presence.

Mit.
See, she comes.

SCENE XII.

Enter Zenobia.
Zen.
Ah! prince!

Tir.
The mighty secret, Heaven be prais'd!
Is now disclos'd.—At length the powerful cause
Of all my wrongs is known.—What seek'st thou? Speak:
Be not dismay'd—The worth of Rhadamistus
May plead excuse for every broken vow.
And com'st thou now to ask from me his freedom?
To ask him for thy spouse? Must Tiridates
Prepare the torches for thy happy nuptials?

Zen.
My lord—

Tir.
Inhuman, barbarous, false Zenobia!
Is this the recompense for love like mine?
And dost thou thus betray me? And for whom?
For whom betray me? Righteous Gods! for one
Whose murderous guile depriv'd thee of a father?
And then—

Zen.
You are deceiv'd: false rumour fix'd
The guilt on him.

Mit.
[to Tir.]
'Tis true.—By Pharasmanes
The deed was plann'd.—Perfidious Zopyrus
Confess'd it dying.

Tir.
Wilt thou then believe
A traitor's words?

Mit.
A paper found upon him
Confirm'd the whole: in this are given at full
The secret orders for the monarch's death;
All written by the hand of Pharasmanes.

Zen.
Behold, my lord—

Tir.
Be silent: while you plead
For Rhadamistus thus, your love condemns him.

Zen.
'Tis true, I love him, and attempt not now
To hide my love.—His danger brings me hither;
Zenobia comes to give him liberty:
She comes from you to ask it.—Rome once more
Makes me the offer of Armenia's sceptre.
In my behalf behold from Syria march
The Latian bands: meantime the Armenians call
On thee to fill their throne.—Do thou consent;
Zenobia here will second their design:
Restore to me in freedom Rhadamistus,
And rule Armenia's kingdom.

Tir.
Surely mighty
For a new lover such a sacrifice.

Zen.
But not, O prince! too mighty for a husband.

Tir.
A husband!

Zen.
I have said.

Tir.
Can this be true?
Such secret too from me till now conceal'd?

Zen.
I fear'd to excite your rage against my consort;
I fear'd your just affliction.—Know, my heart
Too weak to witness such a fatal trial,
At least at distance—

Tir.
Cruel and inconstant!
Ungrateful woman! Whom shall we believe,
Or whom, Mithranes, trust? All is deceit
We hear or see—Zenobia has betray'd me,
And truth is lost for ever!

Zen.
Tiridates,
Think not 'twas I betray'd thee.—No, 'twas Heaven,
And 'twas a father's will oppos'd our nuptials.
I know not whether fear or hope induc'd
The cruel change: I know that thou wert absent,
And that this hand was destin'd to another.

Tir.
And could'st thou then—

Zen.
What power, alas! was mine?
“Behold” (he cried) “the only way, my daughter,
“To save my life, my kingdom and my honour.”
Now say, had Tiridates been as me,
What would he then have done?

Tir.
Have died, Zenobia.

Zen.
I do far more—I part from thee and live:
Death would have only serv'd to render short
My time of suffering: I with mine had clos'd
Thy dearer life, and disobey'd a father.

Tir.
Thy recent bands are little irksome to thee:
Well hast thou toil'd for Rhadamistus' safety,
And he has well secur'd thy heart.—I see
Report was false, that e'er he sought thy life.

Zen.
O! no, 'twas true; but this can never make
My bands more irksome.

Tir.
How!—not irksome?

Zen.
No.

Tir.
He sought thy life and thou canst love him still?
And love so firmly, that to ensure his safety
Thou offer'st in exchange a kingdom's rule.

Zen.
Yes, Tiridates—could Zenobia less,
She must neglect her glory, stain the honours
Of all her ancestry; forget the duty
A wife should cherish; slight the immortal Gods,
That witness'd her espousals.—Thee, O! prince,
Thee must Zenobia wrong: where would be then
The spotless innocence, the pride of soul
That charm'd thee once in her? Say, should I then
Have e'er been worthy Tiridates' love?

Tir.
Alas! what virtue fate has ravish'd from me!

Zen.
If it indeed be true that love is born
Of minds congenial, wherefore with that virtue
Should now thy grief contend? No—imitate,
Or rather, prince, surpass it—Tiridates
Can far outgo example.—Well I know
Thy constancy of temper.—Let us quit
The paths of vulgar lovers: let the sparks
Of emulation glow in either breast.
O! think what we must feel when we review
Our glorious conquest; while the world shall learn
That love, when cherish'd in a noble heart,
Can breed, and only breed the fruits of virtue.

Tir.
Run—fly, Mithranes—to our presence bring
In freedom Rhadamistus.—How thy words,
Exalted dame! can change the mind at will!
Thou kindlest in my breast another flame
That quenches now the first.—I see with envy
The greatness of thy soul, and blush so long
To lag behind thee.—I perceive my heart
Is wholly chang'd: no more I love Zenobia;
I worship, I adore her—If I love her,
A jealous lover of Zenobia's fame;
A zealous follower of Zenobia's virtues:
I love her—as a mortal loves the Gods.

Zen.
All thanks, protecting powers! Zenobia now
Has not a foe: the greatest is subbued,
The thought of thy distress.—Go, prince, and reign
(For thou art worthy) in Zenobia's stead.

SCENE XIII.

Enter Ægle.
Ægl.
O! let me, dearest sister, clasp thee thus
Close to my breast.

[embraces Zen.
Zen.
What means my gentle Ægle?
What dream is this?

Ægl.
No longer am I Ægle:
Behold your lost Arsinöe.—See the mark
Of crimson here, on the left arm impress'd
Of all our race.

Zen.
'Tis true, by Heaven!

Tir.
Ye powers!

Zen.
In one short moment what a tide of bliss!
How knew'st thou this?

[to Ægl.
Ægl.
From him, the aged shepherd,
Till now believ'd my father.—Thrice five years
Have roll'd their course since from the Armenian rebels
He had me then an infant; and till now
Has kept me still the darling of his love:
But late he heard the fortunes of Zenobia,
And well he knows thee too, but not from me.
I kept my faith unbroken.—Whether now
Thy sufferings mov'd him; or that verging near
The close of life, he was resolv'd again
To give me back the honours of my birth,
He call'd me to him, and with many a tear
Told all the tale, and sent me to Zenobia.

Zen.
Well in thy face I read thy princely mind.

SCENE LAST.

Enter Rhadamistus.
Rhad.
Ah! Tiridates—

Tir.
Come, my lord, O! come:
Behold Zenobia here, thy long-sought wife,
I thus restore her to thee.

Rhad.
[to Zen.]
O! forgive,
Forgive your Rhadamistus.

Zen.
What offence
Awaits my pardon?

Rhad.
Heavens!—my jealous rage.

Zen.
Your jealous rage was kindled in your breast
From love's excess.—The cause I ever cherish,
Th' effect I have forgotten.

[embrace.
Tir.
Heavenly goodness!

Zen.
[to Tir.]
To me, O! prince, the Gods restore a sister,
To whom I owe my life, and fain would shew
The gratitude she merits.—Well I know
She loves thee, Tiridates: let that hand,
Devoted once for mine, be given at least
At my request—bestow it on Arsinöe.

Tir.
Receive it, princess— [gives his hand.]
What thou bid'st, Zenobia,
To me is ever sacred.

Ægl.
Happy hour!

Rhad.
O! faithful spouse!

Zen.
O! generous Tiridates!

Chorus.
'Tis false that Love, with tyrant sway
Bids every will his rule obey,
And o'er our freedom reigns.
But lovers thus, while each pursues
His wayward course, would faults excuse
Which Fate in them ordains.