 | Siroes |  |
SCENE I.
A court yard.Cosroes, Araxes.
Cos.
Araxes, he must die: enough till now
Has nature pleaded for him in this bosom,
Ar.
Who will ensure you, sir, that, Siroes dead,
The people will not seek to avenge his death?
And that the means employ'd to quell the tumults,
May not increase them?
Cos.
Be it thine, Araxes,
With vigorous secrecy to oppose the plans
Of these seditious; and to them be shewn,
The sever'd head of my degenerate son.
Soon shalt thou see rebellion's current dried
When once the fountain fails.
Ar.
Before we prove
A remedy like this, we may employ
Some other not so dreadful.
Cos.
And what other
Remains untried? Hydaspes and myself
Have toil'd, and toil'd in vain,—this rebel son
Thirsts for my blood, refuses every gift,
And still persists in obstinate concealment.
215
Then must I, O! my liege—
Cos.
Yes, go—Araxes,
His death is needful for me; I pronounce
The fatal sentence—but, O Heaven! I feel
My heart congeal'd, my eyes o'erflow'd with tears,
And shedding Siroes' blood I shed my own.
Ar.
With anguish I obey; but yet, my lord,
I will obey: 'tis true I'm Siroes' friend,
But I am Cosroes' subject: well my heart,
My loyal heart knows what that name implies,
That all must yield before its sacred duties.
I will obey: 'tis true I'm Siroes' friend,
But I am Cosroes' subject: well my heart,
My loyal heart knows what that name implies,
That all must yield before its sacred duties.
To keep a loyal subject's name
Your blood I cruel shed:
Whene'er a monarch's peace may claim
A guilty rebel's head,
We praise the tyrant's law, and blame
The heart to pity bred.
Your blood I cruel shed:
Whene'er a monarch's peace may claim
A guilty rebel's head,
We praise the tyrant's law, and blame
The heart to pity bred.
[Exit.
| Siroes | |