The Prince Of Parthia Part 14

Take back my being, or relieve my sorrows-- Ha! art thou not Evanthe?--Art thou not The lovely Maid, who bless'd the fond Arsaces?-- [_Raving._

EVANTHE.

O, my lov'd Lord, recall your scatter'd spir'ts, Alas! I fear your senses are unsettl'd.

ARSACES.

Yes, I would leave this dull and heavy sense.

Let me grow mad; perhaps, I then may gain Some joy, by kind imagination form'd, Beyond reality.--O! my Evanthe!

Why was I curs'd with empire? born to rule?-- Would I had been some humble Peasant's son, And thou some Shepherd's daughter on the plain; My throne some hillock, and my flock my subjects, My crook my sceptre, and my faithful dog My only guard; nor curs'd with dreams of greatness.

At early dawn I'd hail the coming day, And join the lark the rival of his lay; At sultry noon to some kind shade repair, Thus joyful pa.s.s the hours, my only care, To guard my flock, and please the yielding Fair.

SCENE VIII.

_KING.--VARDANES behind the Scene._

KING.

I will not think, to think is torment--Ha!

See, how they twine! ye furies cut their hold.

Now their hot blood beats loud to love's alarms; Sigh presses sigh, while from their sparkling eyes Flashes desire--Oh! ye bright heav'nly beings, Who pitying bend to suppliant Lovers' pray'rs, And aid them in extremity, a.s.sist me!

VARDANES.

Thus, for the Trojan, mourn'd the Queen of Carthage; So, on the sh.o.r.e she raving stood, and saw His navy leave her hospitable sh.o.r.e.

In vain she curs'd the wind which fill'd their sails, And bore the emblem of its change away. [_Comes forward._

KING.

Vardanes--Ha!--come here, I know thou lov'st me.

VARDANES.

I do, my Lord; but, say, what busy villain Durst e'er approach your ear, with coz'ning tales, And urge you to a doubt?

KING.

None, none believe me.

I'll ne'er oppress thy love with fearful doubt-- A little nigher--let me lean upon thee-- And thou be my support--for now I mean T' unbosom to thee free without restraint: Search all the deep recesses of my soul, And open ev'ry darling thought before thee, Which long I've secreted with jealous care.

Pray, mark me well.

VARDANES.

I will, my Royal Sire.

KING.

On Anna thus reclin'd the love-sick Dido; Thus to her cheek laid hers with gentle pressure, And wet her sister with a pearly show'r, Which fell from her sad eyes, then told her tale, While gentle Anna gave a pitying tear, And own'd 'twas moving--thou canst pity too, I know thy nature tender and engaging.

VARDANES.

Tell me, my gracious Lord, what moves you thus?

Why is your breast distracted with these tumults?

Teach me some method how to sooth your sorrows, And give your heart its former peace and joy; Instruct thy lov'd Vardanes.--

KING.

Yes, I'll tell thee; But listen with attention while I speak; And yet I know 'twill shock thy gentle soul, And horror o'er thee 'll spread his palsy hand.

O, my lov'd Son! thou fondness of my age!

Thou art the prop of my declining years, In thee alone I find a Father's joy, Of all my offspring: but Arsaces--

VARDANES.

Ha!

My Brother!--

KING.

Ay--why dost start?--thy Brother Pursues me with his hate: and, while warm life Rolls the red current thro' my veins, delights To see me tortur'd; with an easy smile He meets my suff'rings, and derides my pain.

VARDANES.

Oh!

KING.

What means that hollow groan?--Vardanes, speak, Death's image fits upon thy pallid cheek, While thy low voice sounds as when murmurs run Thro' lengthen'd vaults--

VARDANES.

O! my foreboding thoughts. [_Aside._ 'Twas this disturb'd my rest; when sleep at night Lock'd me in slumbers; in my dreams I saw My Brother's crime--yet, death!--it cannot be--

KING.

Ha!--what was that?--

VARDANES.

O! my dread Lord, some Villain Bred up in lies, and train'd to treach'ry, Has injur'd you by vile reports, to stain My Princely Brother's honour.

KING.

Thou know'st more, Thy looks confess what thou in vain wouldst hide-- And hast thou then conspir'd against me too, And sworn concealment to your practices?-- Thy guilt--

VARDANES.

Ha! guilt!--what guilt?--