Craes. But the Brave Scythian Queen retreating fightsâ— And whilst the Homotyms are eager in Pursuit as a Stout Lyon that is hunted Turns eager on the nearest of his Foes And tears 'em piece meal then retreats again So in their flight the Scythians send huge showers Of Mortal Arrows on the Conquerours Faces Cyr. My self will haste with the Cadusian Archers And gaul their backs with much more dreadful Flights Craes. Mingle not Sir in the unruly Chace We beg you wou'd retire into the Camp Your Wounds and Labour ask some quick relief Cyr. Fly then Hystaspes to the Homotyms Bid 'em their vain and eager Chace give o're In the mean time you valiant Craesus may Wheel round about 'em with your Lydian Horse And beat 'em in their Front Craes. It shall be done Expect my Death or the brave Queen a Prisoner Cyr. Attend me but at Distance for a Moment Exeunt Crâ—sus and Hystaspes What is it to rule the World To hold the wealth and sumpter of the Earth And find it all but Dreams of Happiness As I do Going off Lausaria's Ghost rises to â—im What object does my flattering Eyes present The Lydian Princess ha it is t is she Or else some Star the darling of the Sky Dropt from the Gods and Pattern'd in her Likeness But ha if this shoud prove a Dream Thou look'st quite thro' me speak if thou art Lausaria Ghost O Cyrus I am come from far to blame thee To chide my Love and stand 'twixt him and Ruin Cyr. Thou art alive then ha and thou canst talk too O sacred joy Who told me thou wert dead Thou look'st thin pale and wan Give me thy cold fair hand in mine and let me lead thee From the cold Mansion of the Grave To a warm â—oom in Cyrus Breast for ever Where is thy hand Ha! Thou art fled and hid As in a 〈◊〉 thou dazelest every Sense And mak'sâ—â—hy Cyrus giddy to behold thee Ghost Ah! Cyrus Thou may'st as well grasp Water or fleet Air As think of touching my Immortal Shadow I am the wandering Spirit of Lausaria That still dotes on thee in her Solitude So well that when thou think'st but of Panthea By secret Charms thou call'st me from my quiet And givest my Soul no rest below nor Peace above Cyr. A cold and sudden damp sits on me round Thy Eyes run pointed with thy wrongs and shoot Quite through my Heart as thy keen Spirit with horrour Pierces the ground and glances through the Air Thou strikest a terrour trembling in my Blood And I with torture find thou art a thing Immortal Speak awful Shade what brings thee from thy Rest Ghost When I had pass'd the Lake that leads to Bliss Bliss so unjustly term'd by Mortals here To those dull Shades Elizium fondly call'd Where the sad Scene gives mournful Lovers Souls A Melancholly Prospect of Delight I heard the Powers of Hell Call for the Fates to cut thy thread before 'em What shall be done said they with this Great Man This Barbarous Hunter of the World and Love Let us ordain that by a Woman's Hand His blood be in a fatal moment spilt So to Revenge the Sex's wrongs at once Haste from the Field Beware th' inrag'd Thomyris Come follow me I 'll shew thee such a Sight Shall Cure thy Breast of all Love's Wounds for ever Hold stay and take my Ghost along with thee Ghost O Live I charge you Live happy as a God on Earth live ever Each drop of Blood you drain from that brave Breast You double all the Pangs upon my Soul O think that on your Joys depend my Bliss Your Torment is my Hell your Happiness My blest Elisium Follow me I Charm you By all the pity once you pay'd my Love By all the Love you owe my Memory Cyr. Lead then the way thou brightest Angel Guide Conduct me quickly to thy blest Abode Ghost The Minute 's come This way thou gallant Cyrus Cyr. I follow thee and if my Body proves too heavy I 'll throw it off and mount all Soul to reach thee Scene Draws and discovers Panthea with her Women weeping o're the mangled Body of Abradatas whose Limbs she had seemingly fix'd to his Body a Dagger in her hand Panth. I charge you live Live to excuse my Fault And sooth the sorrows of the sad Thomyris The Story of our Death 's told from your Mouths May from her tender Eyes draw floods of Tears But the sad Object would have kill'd her quite Likewise relate the dismal Scene to Cyrus Tell it with all the pity that in grief Can be express'd Be sure t' adorn our Ends As sumptuously with Sorrow as you can But oh you need not Tell 'em as they were And your sad tun'd Description will surpass All Fiction Painting or dumb shew of Horrour That ever Ears yet heard or Eyes beheld Wom. O cast that Weapon from you Panth. Vex me not What can't I be obey'd in Death Now now My dearest Partner of my Soul I come Look back as thou art in the Milky Road to Bliss And take thy lov'd Panthea with thee Wom. Still you advance that dreadful Weapon Panth. No more These Hands and Feet which the sharp Scythes Mow'd from thy lovely Body I have try'd A thousand times to joyn 'em with my Kisses But 't is in vain O you Immortal Powers Cannot these Lips so Deify'd restore One hour of Life See what Idolaters You are false Men You Lying Prophets say A Kiss a Sigh a Tear from those you Love Can fetch you from the Grave to Life again And make a God of the least Doting Swain But I have groan'd ten thousand Sighs and Wishes And bath'd his Body all all o're in Tears Yet find 'em all too little one small drop Of Rain is worth an Ocean of these Pearls That gives the sweets that from the Roses flow And makes the Violets and the Lillies grow Yet I cannot restore one Finger back To Life unless my heart 's warm blood can do it Panthea Stabs her self and just as she gave the Wound Cyrus Enters led in by the Ghost the Ghost vanisheth Cyr. Ah! cruel spiteful yet thou lovely Spirit Coud'st thou not bring me one half moment sooner Give me this Dagger and I 'll plunge it in my Breast Wipe off the stain of thy most precious Blood And reak it in my own revenge thy wrongs And please Lausaria's Ghost whose shadow haunts me Panth. This Weapon I 'll not part with This Glorious Relique here that sets me free Thus I will hold it brandish'd up on high And die with the lov'd Passport in my Hand Live happy Cyrus may these ills forewarn thee To shun the fatal Deed of crossing Love Love that will ne'er be stop'd but have its Course Or overflow to drowning with the least resistance Cyr. O forgive me blest Panthea And the same time thou leav'st thy lovely Body Forgive my passion too and carry with thee My Pardon to be Seal'd by all the Gods
be approach'd More near Goddess Divinity Bright Venâ—s Is there a Name in Heav'n th' art worshipp'd by O tell me that and teach my Tongue to say it That I may call thee what the Gods have nam'd thee Panth. O Cyrus you forget your self and me I 'm no such thing no Creature to be prais'd A Wretch forsaken of the World and Heav'n Your Prisoner you shou'd pity not admire me Cyr. O say not so Forsaken say'st thou No Rather the World and Heav'n are left by thee Is there a Mar. that dares not call thee Queen What wou'dst thou have or be more than thou art Say but the Word and thy Commands shall fly Quick as the Lightning from thy killing Eyes And Cyrus is thy Slave to execute Panth. I have no Power no Charms but Grief about me That may move Pity but can ne'er cause Love All this wild Passion but disturbs your self And cannot make a wretched Creature happy You sent me late a Slave to be abus'd But this is worse than when I was refus'd Cyr. Pardon thou Saint a Man in Love untaught I have been us'd in Battels from my Youth Bred from my Birth like Lions in their Fierceness Free as the Light and uncontroll'd as Air And never met a charming Fâ—e like Thee Yet at thy Sight I can forget my Fury Moulded like Wax made soft before the Sun And all my Passion like a Storm quite spent Lies hush'd and silent as an Evenings Breeze Panth. Hold mighty Cyrus spare my tortur'd Bosom Play not the Tyrant with so great Misfortunes And talk to me of Murdeâ—s Massacres Wracks and Eternal Death Talk any thing But tell me not of that which kills my Soul Calls to my Mind to view the mighty space 'Twixt me and Joy For nothing yet can prove So great a Misery to me as Love Cyr. O let me catch that Sigh before it goes 'T is gone 't is gone and each officious Wind Strove who shou'd first convey the rich Perfume And hoard it with the Treasure of the Spring Thence to disperse and brood o'er tender Blossoms And add new Scents to ev'ry fragrant Flower O give me leave to kiss this beauteous Hand Here has Arabia all its Sweets confin'd Rich as from thence we Southern Breezes find When Trees of Spice had gently fann'd the Wind. Hyst Awake Hystaspes from this horrid Slumber Shall I see ravish'd from me all my Right And dare not speak By Heav'n I 'll climb the danger Though he stood arm'd at my next daring Word To throw me from the Precipice I 'll do 't May Heav'n give fetter'd Globes to Cyrus Wish Crown you with Love as you are crown'd with Conquest May all bright Beauties else adore your Charms And stoop to him that gives the World a Law But this fair Prisoner give me leave to ask Her who by Conquest is your Soldier 's Prize Hystaspes begs the sharer of your Blood If that's too great a Fame for him to Challenge Thus I implore it as your humblest Vassal Cyr. O Gods He 's Jealous Jealous on my Life O thou most mighty Iove hadst thou at once Shot Thunder in my Ears and Lighten'd in My Eyes I had not seen and heard more Horror Dear Craesus Craesus give me Patience Am I thus soon so mean a thing become That he that is my Slave durst here presume Before my Face to own so proud a Guilt And mix his haughty Love with mine Traytor Craes. Hold gallant Cyrus Craesus bids thee hold Cyr. O Craesus say Cou'd Solon suffer this Is there a Rule in all Philosophy To teach me Patience now O tell it me Pant. Cyrâ—s no more In vain are all this Rage and Jealousies Farewel I 'll shut this Captive from your Eyes Prison and Absence will be both your Cures I am no more his Prisoner now but yours Cyr. A Prisoner ha Conduct her to my Tent. Let what was Cyrus's 〈…〉 Court Adorn'd with Asia's Jewels let her shine Serv'd like the Parthian Queen ador'd and kneel'd to By all her moving Enâ—pire about her And on the Globe where now my Eagle stands Let Love be plac'd and with its awful Banners Spread her Commands thro' all the shining Camp And let an hundred thousand Hero's Hearts Be Sacrific'd each Morning to her rising Panth. Hold Cyrus Cease this unwelcome strife What tho' y'have in your Power my Death or Life Know I am bound in faster Bonds a Wiâ—e Cou'd I but Cyrus Fame have lov'd before When I had seen him shou'd have lov'd him more Yet there are greater Chains than all beside I am both by Virtue and by Passion ty'd When I on Cyrus look I must admire But for my Lord I barn with nobler Fire And Two I must confess are Gods to me Which are my Abradator first and thee Exit Panthea attended Drums and Trumpets within Enter to them an Officer The News Offic. Great Cyaxares is arriv'd Cyr. 'T is well Have you inclos'd the way he comes With Persian Homotyms and Median Horse Offic. Most mighâ—y Cyrus 't is already done Cyr. His Drums and Trumpets answer you more loud And as he passes thro' your noble Ranks With welcome Shouts receive my loving Uncle Exeunt Cyrus Craesus Hystaspes Manment the Guards The Scene opens and discovers a way rank'd with Soldiers and after a Warlike sound and Shouts Cyrus and Cyaxares meet Cyrus offers to embrace Cyaxares but he refuses They come forward on the Stage My honour'd Unkle Royal Cyaxares ha How long have you been absent from these Arms Ha! What is this I â—ee when I expect A kind return of my true Hearts salute You bend your Head and look another way And sigh as if my Eyes were Bassalisks Or Breath shot Venome Ha! what means my Unkle Cyax. The meaning is too plain 't is Shame and Coward Do you not see 'em written in my Forehead What means this Pomp these Shouts these heaps of Trophies These crowds of Conquer'd Kings and mighty Slain And I but a poor idle gazer on 'T is that 't is that has swallow'd up my Fame Branded the Son of great Astyages Made me the talk of all the World A senceless Block for Cyrus Foot to tread on And mount the Throne of all the Universe Ingrateful Cyrus Cyr. Hold O cease dear Uncle Let not oâ—r Passions here be made a sport To common Eyes we pray you wou'd withdraw 'T is Cyaxares Pleasure we shou'd be Alone so Unkle let 's sit down together And I will hear with Patience if I can Exeunt Praeter Cyrus and Cyax. Speak and I 'll glew my Ears to ev'ry Word Your voice shall utter Cyax. God's that I were Dumb That ever I shou'd speak when what I say Recounts my loss and my eternal Shame With Cyrus false Ingratitude Cyr. Still still You touch the same harsh String Tell 't out What is 't that hangs upon your troubled Brow Cyax. O this it is The Man that I have nourish'd in my Bosom Safe guarded from an Host
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
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