cannot be a Wonder on the Earth So Great as Cyrus is If thou art he Or is 't some God or Mars himself I see For sure these Eyes were never bless'd before With such a sight What 's Balthazar and all The Princes of the Globe compar'd to him â— Now I no more admire his mighty Fortune That Godlike Mein and Presence is enough T' enslave great Kings and awe the barb'rous World I need not ask who is the famous Cyrus Something which makes great Souls so near ally'd Tells me you are that excellent brave Man Cyr. I am that most unworthy Cyrus What wou'd the Great th' most famous in the World The Scythian Queen Thom. Heaâ— me Divinest King Curse me you Powers and languish all my Fame Now I behold the gallant Cyrus Person If e'er injustly I become your Foe Nay I 'll forget the Murder of my Son And say his Death was my misfortune only You have a Virgin that 's Panthea call'd The Mourning longing Wife of this young Prince Whom e're the Priest had said his binding Pray'r The Gods to shew the most incertain State Of human things snatch'd from his Nuptial Arms And bore her from him by a Storm of Fate Ev'n in a time when they did think to join Fast as their Wishes She your Prisoner is All Places save and priviledge the Fair Beauty is even held in War most sacred And Cyrus cannot stoop to do a thing That is not brave Cyr. Go on bright Queen Thomy Long hearing of thy vast and proud Successe O'er all Mankind In pity of the World I drew a force of Forty Thousand Men From my own yet unconquer'd Land to aid Thy â— Enemies this Army we 'll withdraw And with brave Cyrus make immortal League If he 'll restore the sad Panthea to us Cyr. Now blest be all those Deities that saw The solemn Rites performing 'gainst their Wills And would not let the Hymeneal Torch Be light Ask you me whom piteous Heaven Sent by a Miracle to my Protection Demand my Crowns my everlasting Fame My shining Trophies and my Victories For they are not so dear nor half so sacred Nor look so bright in all the World's esteem Abra. O I am ruin'd Hell is in my Bosom Panthea's lost undone inconstant ha She loves him too perhaps O thought-like Death Curse on this feeble Arm that cou'd nor guard her Nor had the Courage to assault my Breast Cyax. It is apparent that the Gods were all Displeas'd and meant those Nuptials shou'd not be When at the very Altar like a Dove From the fierce Vultures Claws they rescu'd her Abra. O King of an Immortal Fame Dread Cyrus thou art Great above the World There is no thought a Woman here can fix Thy Soul that soars and ranges like the Sun Behold me from thy Power like awful Iove And O! restore me to my Heav'n of Love Pity my Youth and give Pantheâ— to me O give her to my Soul and I will add To the bright Queens Ten Thousand Valiant Archers And vow my self thy true Confederate Think not 't is Fear that makes me stoop so low To beg of Thee but mighty Love that must Be still obey'd else I cou'd meet thee daring Atâ—th ' Head of all thy Army shouting loud To animate the Courage of their Leader And O Panthea were Panthea but The Victor's Prize the blessed Hopes shou'd aid me To kill this great Disturber of the World Thom. Spoke like thy self my 〈…〉 Thou hast a Scythian's Courage in thy Breast Intreat no more for Cyrus dare not hold her The Gods and Thomyris have decreed To fetch Panthea back in Triumph from him To morrow I will meet thee in the Front Of Battel where it shall be then recorded To thy eternal Shame and Infamy A Woman conquer'd thee Cyr. Proud Queen retreat least we profane the Truce The nicest Law of Arms can ne'er indure Such daring Provocations Enter Panthea attended Panth. My Abradatas Soul of my Love and Lord of my Desires Am I so blest to see thee once again To embrace thee once before I die Save me from Fears from Prison and from Harms And lock me safe within these tender Arms. Abra. O my Panthea Let me hold thee fast Hoard all my numberless and breathless Kisses On thy soft Cheeks at once For something tells me This Pleasure is too great and rich to last O stir not from me Panth. No we 'll never part Our Loves shall here incorp'rate us like Air Not Swords nor Death shall any way divide us Now 't is beyond the Power of Jealousie Or Iove himself this Gordion to untie Nay Cyrus is too Brave too Good to see Such faithful Lovers languish any longer Cyr. O I am struck A thousand Stings dart all At once their pointed Venom in my Eyes And now I feel 'em in my Breast â—ell me What is 't besides the mortal stroke of Love That pains your Cyrâ—s thus See how they grasp 'T is that 't is that assist me 〈◊〉 Say quickly Friends what shall be done to part 'em Speak will you see me rack'd My Soul 's between Each close Embrace And will not cannot bear it any longer Prince from this fatal Extasie retire This sight will mortal be to one of us Abra. Thou shalt not stirr I will not move without her But leave Ten thousand Limbs if I 'd so many Hack'd off and hew'd from this unhappy Body But I will bear her hence O my Panthea Oh Mother let me lose this hated Life 〈◊〉 let me dye before I part with her Panth. Think not of Death my Abradatas loe The Gallant Monarch melts and says it too Our Lives shall be immortal as our Loves Thom. Cyrus has reach'd the utmost brink of Greatness The Gods no longer will dispute thy Fate Since they have punish'd thee with lawless Love A cursed Charm that slumbers all thy Virtues That thou shalt never more awake to Glory Retire my Son from Beauty run to day And by the Gods Panthea shall be thine To morrow when we only shall encounter With the starv'd Genius weary Fame of Cyrus My Women shall be foremost in the Fight And with their naked Breasts and Arms display'd Shall lead this once brave Man a Captive-Slave This empty Form of his departed Greatness Panth. O Royal Mother Why d' you mistake You wrong the God-like Cyrus O give him gentle Words mild as the Sound Of Pray'rs and Sighs in Sacrifices us'd Speak t' him approach him as indeed you ought As Conqu'rour of the World and you shall see No God can be so lavish nor so kind Abra. My dear Panthea why d' you thus proceed Unless you wish to make me worse than Woman Hold while I 've Resolution in my Breast And all thy Heav'n of Charms will let me go By those thy self I swear the greatest Oath That I can take to morrow I will bring Thy Abradatas to thee live or dead Panth. No say not so Thus kneel with thy Panthea My Hand
hear me beg In vain who once you said was Beautiful and lov'd Cyr. Panthea rise I cannot see you bend There 's something in those Eyes wou'd cheat me still Although I know their kindness is not meant To me No no these Prayers and Tâ—ars are all My Rivals still Behold there 's one cou'dâ—speak If it had Life but that is slain by thee Shews the body of Cyâ—x See see the silent everlasting Cause Of Abradatas Fate Panth. Ah me the sight Is dreadful but you must forget it He kill'd him fairly in his Life's defence And you may add a little too for Love The gallant Cyrus wou'd have done as much Had he bin urg'd or had the like Occasion Cyr. Away Panthea hence thou plead'st against Thy self and hast recall'd each wandering Spark That stray'd without my Breast and fann'd 'em to A Flame that if thou talk'st will ne're be quench'd Away with him I say Death to you all That disobey a Moment Abrad. I Court that Death and cannot wish to live A life so mean that 's in thy power to give But ah Panthea Panth. Stay for we must live Or dye together Cyrus take thy Choice Give me thy Hand my Love Thus we will grow Panthea runs and takes Abrad. by the hand Joyning our selves together thus Thus fix'd By great Diana's Soul immoveable So mingle not our Souls nor beams of sight so twist As are these Hands united Why d' ye stay Come bear him to his Fate By Constancy I vow this Hand shall go along with him Not all your Torments Pincers nor Devices Shall wrench these Knots asunder no unless You cut this off so you may part our Bodies But then my Spirits shall retire that moment Flying to th' part that 's nearest to my Love And my lost Hand shall hold him still thus fast And Perish with him as the Body wou'd Craes. Behold do not the Gods look down and wonder Cyr. What shall I do Craesus advise me straight Craes. I am beyond all Sence the Miracle Has almost struck me dumb Yet you had best Begone Retire Sir from this melting Object O never interrupt such Happiness But send these rare and faithful Lovers home To be the Wonder of all Worlds to come Cyr. O how shall I begin Craesus I 'll do it I am resolv'd yet cannot though I wou'd When I have gain'd the highest Victory o're My mind then straight I feel my climbing Love Ascends by stealth and reaching to the top Pulls all my slippery Resolutions down Assist me Gods and guide my sickly Virtue Enter to them Lausaria Distracted drest like a Cupid with a Bow and Quiver follow'd by her Women Laus Ye daring Mortals wou'd ye hinder me Let me alone I say Prepare my Chariot Go fetch me Boreas straight and bid him bring me A gentle Wind to spread my fiery Wings Then I 'll ride faster than the Fleeting Air Or Raceing Clouds The Stars shall be my Guides And in a Moment I will reach the Gods Craes. O Dismal sight Laus My Father weeps If tears cou'd quench thee I. SONG O Take him gently from the Pile And lay him here to rest And I will â—corch for him the while If he must burn then burn him in my Breast For there is Fire there is shame Enough to set the World on flame Craes. Hear me Lausaria thou hadst once a Brother Doom'd by the Gods to want the gift of Speech And yet his Dumbness could not so afflict me As these wild words torment thy Father's Soul Laus This Bow and Quiver were a wanton Cupid's I watch'd the Boy as he lay down to sleep And stole his Amunition from his side And now I 've got 'em I will be reveng'd On all mankind on all the Sex at once And shoot Love's Plague into their Breasts Stand fair II. SONG I Am arm'd and delare For a Vigerous War By my Bow and my Quiver I swear Not a Rebel â—0 Love will I spare This Shaft I will draw to the Head And shoot the great Persian shoot him dead The Tyrani shall die there 's one will deny him Let him Court her with Crowns she shall fly him This Shaft I will draw to the Head And shoot the great Archer dead Cyr. Her Sence is out of Tune her Wits not well But yet alas her Tongue is Charming still Laus Here is a Dart by Limping Vulcan made Tip'd with the Clippings of a red hot Star The same that Venus when she robb'd her Son Chose from the rest to shoot Adonis with I 'll burn you ev'ry one till you indure Worse Pains than I Ha! Cyrus there Have at thee I think I 've struck thee Cruel Flint I have She shoots and hits Cyrus Cyr. Thou hast indeed and touch'd me to the quick I thank the Gods there wanted but this sight To rouze my slumbering Vertue Sweet Lausaria Th' ast pierc'd my rocky Heart and see it melts Cyrus Weeps Laus Ha! have I hurt him Curst was I to do so Look how the Blood runs trickling down his Face Help help Panthea Abradatas help Can you behold that Bleeding brave good Man And not bestow one Sigh or Tear between you Indeed you are to blame I cou'd shed Rivers And with my sighs disturb the endless Ocean Weeps Craes. Poor Girl She tires her self with her Wild Thoughts When will her roving Fancy get some rest Laus Go go you are a pair of Constant Fools To Panthea c. You are not fit to dwell amongst Mankind Get you to Wilds to Fountains and the Woods There graft your Follies on the Barks of Trees And write sad Songs upon th'unconstant Sands Which are as false as are the Hearts of Men Or get you to the Eccho Owl and Magpye They say they once were Mortals like your selves Dye like a pair of faithful silly Lovers Dye dye and get you to Elizium There be the things you dream of there be such As are your selves Go get you to Elizium And I will follow you so soon as e're I can Hey hoe I have a mind to sleen Craes. Come lead her gently to her Bed Laus Well let me make my Will since Love must dye And leave to every one a Legacy This Dart I give To those that are Ambitious of a Name And fall in Love with such a Jilt as Fame This tipt with Gold to Sages on the Bench Who have One Eye for Bribery t'other for a Wench This Wicked one that at the Pulpit Drives To Priests who Love good Livings hate good Lives And send you all to Heaven by your Wives This Matrimonial Dart that shames the Giver To Marry'd Folks the worst of all my Quiver My Wealth to Poets thrift to Eldest Sons My Truth to Courtiers Chastity to Nuns My Wantonness I do bequeath in Plenty To all the Women in the World of Twenty My Eyes to Alchymists my Brains to Schools Scorn to the Brave and all my Love to Fools Exit Craes. What say you now How feel you now
the Sky and saw the Stars below me My Wealth my Friends were numberless as Sands Still no Storm grew upon my smiling Days No Cross nor Rub lay in my smooth State 's way No Vision was so calm as was my Life Elisium envy'd my strange Bliss and wonder'd Cyr. Now by the Gods thy Blessings were so rare So very sensible thy Losses move That my stout Heart begins to pity thee Craes. Look to thy self thy Fortunes reach their highest Mine touch the Ground and can no lower be I from this Hour begin to know my self And from that Knowledge I renew my Joys But as I told thee so my Life continu'd In its still smiling Form and Flattery Till thou swift Harbinger of Death and Ruine Hast let the Ocean in on Craesus Glories And left him poor bereft of all but what thou seest Cyr. Despair not Craesus thou art still the same What Solon and the Gods have said is true And Cyrus as a Servant of the Oracle Obeys thy Fortune and absolves thy Doom Unbind him straight unbind those sacred Hands Set fire with speed to the vast Fun'ral Pile That was design'd to burn the pious King And Sacrifice thereon a hundred Heads Of Oxen dedicated to the Gods Augment the Flames with rich Arabian Gumms With Pearls and Spice sent from the Kings of India My Laurels Standards and my Crowns shall burn T' atone the Gods rather than one dear Hair Of Virtue perish Come then to my Arms And shew me how to be a King indeed Solon taught thee and thou shalt teach thy Cyrus Craes. O mighty Prince Thou much more God than Man My emulating Soul flaggs at thy Sight The Genius of the World must bow to thine And all the Virtues of Mankind together Make but dimm Light before thy beauteous Presence Cyr. Your Children and your Wives receive again With all those Kindoms you by Right were born to Sardis wherein lies heap'd both yours and most Of Aâ—ia's Wealth I 'll save from Death and Plunder Only for Ransom some few Summs extract To reward my Soldiers and divert their Hopes From Expectations of so great a Ruine Then Craesus dwell for ever in my Breast Craes. My Thanks are too too great to be express'd I can no more then hâ—ard 'em in my Thoughts And pay you Blessings as I wou'd Apollo May Craesus meet the Death that was prepar'd When he for Love of Empire Wife or Children Forsakes his Prince and leaves to follow Cyrus Enter Lausaria attended Laus Where 's this Divine this Miracle of Virtue This Rival to the Merciful above Shew me the Face of this exalted Man Who stood betwixt the Vengeance of the Gods And from the dreadful Pile of flaming Ruine Has snatch'd a King and sav'd my Father's Life Let me adoâ—e the Ground his Steps have bless'd And kiss the Feet of the Immortal Cyrus Craes. Great Prince my Daughter and your meanest Handmaid Cyr. How Craesus Now by th' sacred Sun she 's fair Rise or I blush at this unseemly Posture Laus Here let me fix You shou'd be thus ador'd Thou Blessing of all Eyes thou Heavenly Wonder Indeed I ne'er did see a God till now Where have I liv'd The Mountain Cottage Girl That in her homely Life ne'er saw a Man Above the Keeper of the neighb'ring Herds Cou'd not approach you with such Joy and Terrour As I do now so much you do excell The little World that I have still been bred in Cyr. Thou pretty'st Innocence as ever talk'd Look back upon thy self disperse these Clouds These sorrowful Looks that hide from thine own Eyes Their Brightness and thy near-approaching Joy To morrow is the Day no longer then to morrow Gives all thy Wishes and Revenge a Crown When Balthazar 's last Stake and hated Life I 'll sacrifice t' ppease the fairest injur'd And thy dumb Brother's Ghost shall from Elisium Rise in a Form Divine and bless thy Beauties Enter Officer Offic. Hystaspes is return'd and brings with him The Newes of Cyaxares his approach Laus Go on whilst I retire to pray Lausaria's Guardian-Deity you are But turn Oh turn that awful Look away My Eyes cannot endure the pointed Ray Spare it to conquer Balthazar in Fight For Beauty trembles at the strange Delight And if a Virgins Wish can prosper thee That hateful Tyrant shall thy Victim be If not and there 's a God greater than Iove Save save that God his precious Life and Love Ex. Laus attended Cyr. Craesus let nothing be refus'd that may Increase her Welcome as becomes thy Daughter And the Fair Guest of Cyrus Now all prepare to meet my Royal Unkle Enter to them Hystaspes Panthea and Women When comes the Royal Cyaxares Hyst To his worst of Rage abandon'd And in proud Envy of your growing Conquests He bad me in Contempt of your rich Kindness Return the mighty Present with my self Said he I will be with the haughty Cyrus ' Ere thou canst bring my Message to the Boy Cyr. What did he scorn the Proffer of my Duty Return the Presents which I sent him say'st thou O Gods it cannot be thou dost abuse my Unkle Hyst Sir all that I have said Cyr. No more Hystaspes By my immortal Fame and sacred Crowns None but thy self had told me so and liv'd Ha! what do I behold More Wonders still What Lady 's that What weeping Lady's that Hyst Panthea Sir Cyr. Panthea Sir What what Panthea Hyst Thomyris Daughter the brave Scythian Queen And the fair Captive whom you did command Me to present to Cyaxares yet I fear to tell he did refuse her too Cyr. Refuse her say'st thou Gods did he refuse her Was I so lavish say What Right had I To give the Wealth of all the World away Nay what wou'd bankrupt all the Gods in Heav'n The Sun the Moon and Stars may be eclips'd But her bright Beauty is enough alone Without their feeble Aid to light the Globe And make eternal Day Hyst Sir Cyr. Thus Prodigal like Not thinking of the Vastness of the Gift I threw away at once my whole Estate And ne'er repented till too late I see The mighty Summ spread large before my Eyes Thou should'st have plaid the faithful Steward and Restrain'd thy Master's wild destroying Bounty Hyst O pardon mighty Sir who cou'd but hear Your dread Commands and not obey you straight Cyr. What shall I say Tell me Hystaspes do All you that know the secret Paths to Love The way to win a Woman's Smile direct me In Fights you oft have took me from amidst My Enemies unhors'd and bore me from the Danger Breathless upon the Arms of Victory But now y 'ave left me to my worst of Foes So awful so divinely formidable That your proud Cyrus Heart mark that my Soldiers Which never stoop'd to fear what Man cou'd do Nay what the Gods through Miracles have wrought Lies panting now and gasping at the Danger Hyst Madam Cyr. Hold off thy sacrilegious Hands Shrines and their Deities may
the poysonous Darts Of Cruel Beauty Hyst O the Happy time Thy Rage soft Tyranous Love shall then have End When Cyrus kindles once again the Heat That first inspir'd his Noble Breast with Glory Cyax. I hear sudden noise of Clashing Swords Noise of Fighting within Look out Hystaspes go and see the matter As Histaspes is going off enter in haste Artabasus with his Sword Drawn Arta. Where 's Cyrus where 's the King Great Cyaxares Pity the bravest Valour in the World Haste Sir and save the Gallant Abradatas With great and most unequal odds opprest Haste for the sakes of all your bravest Men â—or at so dear a Rate he sells his Life That with 's own Hand already he has slain Strange Numbers of the stoutest Ranks whose Valour Pusht 'em first on to meet his daring Blows Cyax. What madness forc'd him thus to his Destruction Arta. His desperate Love led him so boldly on For with a Troop compos'd of all his best And stoutest Men he straight broke through our Camp Who stood more Wondring at their madness than Afraid And though of all his Valiant Followers Scarce ten remain alive besides himself Yet still he ventures on and calls for Cyrus But hark they this way come Cyax. Follow Hystaspes As Cyaxares and the rest are going off Enters Abradatas fighting against a great many Cyaxares and the rest joyn against him and his followers Brave Abradatas yield whilst you are safe Abra. Yield By the Gods that hated Breath I scorn The Spirits of my murder'd Friends around me Still guard me from the Thoughts of such a Baseness Do'st think I undertook so brave a Deed With the least thought of Living or of Yielding No Fight I will till ev'ry Sinew fail me And when my Arms can lift a Sword no longer I 'll stretch 'em forth to all your Cymeters Now to be parted from my Bleeding Body Before I 'll suffer 'em to be tamely bound Come all Quick make an End of me Ye Gods Wou'd I had Cyrus now but in thy Place Thus wou'd I do thus use my hated Rival Hyst Kill kill the raging Prince if he 'l be still Thus Obstinate Cyax. I charge you ev'ry Man To save him and with speed take him alive They Fight Cyaxares in the Skirmish is mortally Wounded Abradatas is taken Prisoner and Disarm'd Abra. Base Villains Choak'd I am with Multitudes O that I want the Fierceness of a Lyon To chace this Herd of Slaves and Cowards from me Hyst What ail you Sir O Cursed sight you Bleed Cyax. I fear I 've bin too rash And feel I 'm wounded in my Mortal'st part Re-enter to them Cyrus in haste Hyst The Gods forbid O Sir retirâ—â— and view not This sad Mischance Cyr. Ha! Craes. Hystaspes how came this to pass Cyr. Blast me you Vitious Planets of my Birth Fall on me all the wrath of Heav'n at once Can this be true what here my Eyes behold My Unkle wounded 'T is not much I hope Cyax. Yes 't is to Death and by my fleeting Soul I am not sorry for 't But why grieve you I now shall tug the Reins of Rule no more And you shall drive the Chariot of the World Alone My life that stood so long i' th' way Dividing all the while Ambition with thee Shall share with thee and of thy Hopes no more Cyr. Fetch my Physitians Run for Artists straight A Kingdom shall be his that Cures his Hurt Cyax. Stir not I charge you 'T is beyond all Art To save my Life I've but a Moment's Breath To speak yet whilst that lasts it 's thine my Cyrus And likewise all that 's mine I give to thee Commit my only Daughter to thy Care She 's young and may in time grow up thy Wife Cyr. Curst Abradatas Curst-be all the Fates That led thee thus to Triumph still upon me First in my Love and now in Cyaxares But by the Gods By my wrong'd Self I Swear I will be tame no longer but will sweep thee Like a fierce Whirlwind from the Face of Cyrus Wert thou the Mynion of the spiteful Stars Yes though ten Thousand Cupids on their Knees And Venus weeping Eyes shou'd beg to save thee Abra. I kill'd him bravely by the Gods I did Kill'd him as I wou'd thee hadst thou bin there Cyr. Away with him to speedy Death I charge you Cyax. Hold Cyrus hold the Gallant Prince says true Let me not be the cause of his hard Fate It was my Fortune and the Chance of War Cyr. Torture me not with the Request I vow It is the only thing I cannot grant you Cyax. You must O my Dear Cyrus I have bin To blame my Envy of thy gallant Deeds Brought me to meet the Death I have deserv'd Had I but pleas'd my self to hear thee prosper And Treasur'd thy Exploits within my Breast As a kind Unkle shou'd have done to Cyrus O then I had bin happier Persia and Media now shall be but one Far greater than Astyages thou art The first sole Monarch of the Medes and Persians Cyrus farewel Kiss me and then I go dyes Cyr. He 's fled the kindest dearest bravest Man That ever blest the World is gone Dry up Your Tears and hide your Sorrows in your Breasts 'T is poor and mean to spend our griefs like Women Ten Thousand Deaths are all too little for thee To Abrad. No thou shalt live and grow in study'd Torments I 'll carry thee where-e're I go to be The sport of my Revenge and ev'ry Day Thou shalt be brought i' th' midst of all thy Pains To hear thee houl before me Go with him To Tortures Chains Imprisonment Away Enter to them Running and Weeping Panthea attended as Abradatas is carrying off Panth. Hold whither is my Abradatas going Brave Cyrus stay real your dread Commands Ah! where d' ye hurry my dear Prince so fast To the Guards Still Abradatas will you be thus rash Adventuring through a Thousand threatning Deaths To come to this accursed Place to meet Your certain Ruin Cruel as you are More Cruel to your self and me than Cyrus far Cyr. Still does she come to brave my little Power And chain my weak Resolves She knows her strength By all the Gods she does and dares me to 't Keep 'em asunder part 'em whilst I 'm in The mind Perhaps anon I may forget I bid you Do and part 'em now for ever Abra. You urge in vain the Tyrant must b'obey'd Farewel our Loves shall shine amongst the Stars And make Immortal Lights that never shall Be quench'd There we will Rule and guide the Planets Causing 'em ev'ry one to shed their worst And mortal'st Venom on his Cursed Head Panth. Ah no you wrong the brave and God-like Cyrus He is more mild than tender Mothers are The Spring is not so sweet that flows from Winter As are the Passions of that Brave rough Man Look thou Immortal great on Earth as Iove Kneels Can you behold me kneel and
And by the Soul of thy departed Love And tell him how I took his hand in mine Wash'd with thy Tears and bath'd in my Repentance And put it to my eager Lips and ask'd His pardon thus Ha! Horror Worse than Horror Cyrus taking Abradata's hand offering to put it to his mouth it comes from the Body Panthea places it again Panth. What have you done Why touch you him so rudely Give me this Hand back to my Lips again These marvellous Limbs with industry I sought Amidst an hundred heaps of mangl'd Bodies And pick'd and cull'd 'em as is sifted Gold Parted from loads of common Dross And plac'd each torn-off Member in its proper state Just as you see Forbear again to touch him For they are ev'ry one alike dismember'd Mow'd by the Hooks of his own dreadful Chariot Fierce as the Horses wildest rage cou'd gâ—iude 'em I feel Death's giddy vapour in my Eyes And covers all my Senses on a suddain Lay me O lay me gently by my Lord. Dies Cyr. Die all that 's good die Sacred Love and Friendship Let none presume to say that Virtue lives That Beauty gilds the World now she is dead Enter to Cyrus Thomyris Women and Soldiers as persu'd Thom. There there 's the dreadful summ of all our Woes Look there my Friends What Cyrus Mourning o're ' em Run run with speed and snatch his hated Life Quick e're your Foes that have you in the Chase Prevent you Hold And shall 'a dye by Slaves There is some Pity to his Vertue due Cyr. Ha! Am I then surpriz'd I was to blame Though I abhor to live yet loth I am To dye by Treachery and Cowards Hands Thom. Look Cyrus look I am thy Mortallest Foe Thou dwell'st o're the sad Ruines tâ—ere which I Look on with Horrour at so great a distance Do glut thy self Call likewise to thy Mind My Spargepyses Blood and think the Fates Are gentle still Bend bend your Bows Draw every one a Dart up to the Head And send a thousand winged Deaths to seize him Yet hold My self the glorious deed will do Cyr. Thou dar'st not sure Naught but thy VVomans Spleen Cou'd be Seducer to such base Revenge Thom. Talkest thou Now to thy Heart this pointed Justice As she is ready to shoot at him Lausaria's Ghost rises up betwixt them and stands before Cyrus and Faces Thomyris Hah sure there is something there controls my Hand Or I am lost in a wild Maze of Fancy What shining Form is that so fills my Eye Cyrus thy Guardian Genius 't is protects thee That with her tender Wings Roosts o're thy Head And with a Look shoots awful Brightness through me And Fetters every thing that 's brave within me My Sinews slack and Nature at this Sight Shrinks back to her first feeble Infancy Sold. You stand amaz'd Let 's kill him whilst we may Thom. Hold Villains What through her Immortal Body Your Darts would all turn Heads against your selves You might as soon touch the bright shining Sun Or fix your Arrows in the Marble Skye Loose loose your Strings and let fall all your Bows And to appease that Goddess Worship him That all the World is destin'd to Obey Re-enter Craesus Hystaspes Gobrias and Artabasus shouting Ghost vanishes Craes. He lives is safe thanks to the Immortal Powers Cyr. I charge you on your Lives none touch the Queen And hurt no man but such as shall resist Thom. 'T was never known that any Scythian yet Did yield his Person or his Weapon up Then Cyrus since great Baltbazar is slain And all our Lives too mean to adorn thy Triumph O give without denyal to these Tears Panthea's and her Ahradata's Bodies Then undisturb'd let us forsake this place Of all the World the fatallest to Thomyris Cyr. 'T is granted and you may with safety go Cyrus can do no less to such a Queen Whose brave and generous Pity sav'd his Life But begs that you would make the Town your way My Crowns my happiness and Life to me Is not so dear as what you carry with you There you shall see what mourning Babylon Can do the Fires the Temples and the Urns That shall adorn these Lovers Funerals Cyprus instead of Lawrel Wreaths shall bind The Conquerours Brows and Groans instead of Shouts shall fill the Streets the Houses Lamentations All the vast City shall indead appear But one wide spatious Room fill'd full of Sorrow Thomy No no cover the Bodies from their Eyes Then in a Mourning Chariot place the Bridgroom And his pale Bride so leaning on his Cheek Cyrus farewell And may'st thou live to be Unconquer'd still and great as Creetan Iove Beat a dead March Let Trumpets hoarsest sound Fright Birds of softer Musick from the Air And naught be heard but Horrour and despair Exeunt Thomyris and all her Party bearing away the Bodies of Panthea and Abradatas Dead March Sounds Hyst Live happy as a God and o're past miseries Rejoyce Fate is your slave and puts and End To all your toyls this day The conquered Globe Has not that Monster now that from its Chains Durst stir to interrupt your sacred Bliss Go for new Pleasures Court you ev'ry where And having spread your Laws o're all the Earth And settl'd first the Business of the World Think then to make your Median Kingdoms happy And there in Person wed the fair Mandana Whose Youth and Beauty shall like buds increase Still grow upon you and with fresher Charms Supply your Soul and make your joys Immortal Cyr. Come Fellow Souldiers let 's to Babylon Empress of Nations and great Queen of Cities Make haste my Friends and share the World with me All shall have some Amongst the meanest here I 'll throw Rewards they shall not live to spend And scatter Provinces as thick as Drachma's First with Lausaria's Funerals we 'll begin Three Days with strictest Mourning shall be kept And all things else forgotten for that time These Hands her fragrant Funeral Pile shall burn And Princes shall Officiate at her Urn I Invite you all to come and weep with me O're this rare Miracle of Constancy Let the loud War to gentler Griefs remove And mourn with us the Tragedy of Love Exeunt Omnes EPILOGUE Spoken by the Boy and Girl by way of Dialogue Curtain falls Girl HOLD hold is the Play done Boy Ay pretty Rogue Girl What a New PLAY without an Epilogue Boy Lausaria's dead Panthea too is slain And wou'd you have dead Bodies rise again That were indeed a very pretty Fact You had enough of that in the First Act. Girl Why what d' you make of Mr. Betterton Boy The Curtain 's dropt and he is glad he 's gone The Poet too has loaded him so sore He scare has breath enough for one word more Since most of the Old Actors then are kill'd And the Great Hero has forsook the Field What if we did to cover such a Blot Address our selves toth ' Audience Girl That 's well thought And since we must say something pray begin You to the Ladies I the Gentlemen Boy Ladies if you will to our PLAY be kind May every one their dear last Wishes find May Virgins those enjoy they value best And Wives their Husbands kindness to the last At Bassert may your Good Luck so continue And win the Gamester's Heart as well as Guiney Girl And Gentlemen if you will like our PLAY May this good Fate attend you ev'ry day Let no rude Boreas from his Boisterous Cell Prophane the Curl that on your Wigg sits well Norâ—brush the Sacred Powder from the Cloaths Of two such Sights of dainty dapl'd Beaux May nothing bring you out of humour hither Nor Hackney-Coach be wanting in wet weather Boy Ladies w' are almost sure of your good Natures 'T were Cruel to deny such Little Creatures Girl And if the Men mislike or make a puther Boy Evads we 'll fit 'em for 't one way or other 'T is a wise Child that knows its Father Sirs For ought we know we may be some of yours Wee 'll come and lay our selves before your Doors FINIS * Earl of Essex Queen of Scots Lady Iane Grey