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
to repeat the Summ of all That which methinks shou'd strike the Hearers dead When my full Joys had ripen'd for Enjoyment And I wrap'd up in harmless Extasie To such a height I saw no ground below And thought the Glass of that blest Hour wou'd ne'er Be run I mean Gods give me leave to say it As my dear Mother in the Temple gave me A happy Bride in shew to Abradatus The Brave and most Heroick King of Susa Scarce had the Priests the Holy Rites perform'd When straight the Trumpets call'd and Battel join'd Cyrus approaching with a fatal Charge On Craesus and the Forces of our Army Then was my Love snatch'd from my Virgin Arms To his Command and I ran breathless on the Walls To see my Abradatus Fight and Conquer But soon methought I saw him round inclos'd With Enemies which sight to snatch'd my Senses That on a sudden follow'd by my Women I found me in our Camp not knowing how I went nor waking from that wretched Slumber Till I was brought a Prisoner to Hystaspes Cyax. Ah sweet Panthea if thy Sorrows move so What canst thou do dispersing Smiles around thee But oh the thoughts I 'll tear 'em from my Breast Pull out the Seeds just rooting in my Heart And die rather than live with the disgrace Down down thou fair infectious Charm of Beauty Down to thy first Abyss from whence thou camest Where Light lay hid when all things were a Chaos Thou cheat of Sence and blinder of all Eyes Cyrus is boasting now of his design That laid these Nets of Beauty in my march To stop my fair and quick return to Glory Away thou sweet destroyer of my Fame Hystaspes haste with thy fair Charmer hence Go tell thy Master all that thou hast seen Of Cyaxares tell him that Panthe◠Shou'd be esteem'd as Heav'n and Heav'nly Joys Not to be tasted by a Man and live Therefore I give her to the Stars from whence She came Bid Cyrus do the like Begone Quickly least I shou'd wish to look again Pan. Ten thousand Glories crown your Head for this May this brave Action make your Name and Bliss Renown'd on Earth as is the God of War And when in Heav'n a bright shining Star Hyst I am amaz'd Can this be real Sir I dare not tell the King of your refusal Cyax. Do it I charge thee and inform him too That Cyaxares comes to meet him straight With Courage awful as Astyages When Cyrus but a pratling Boy admir'd him Look'd from the Ground ador'd his Majesty And fear'd him like a God Go from my Eyes Remove those gay bright Syrens that forerun A Storm Hyst Come Madam Panth. To kind Death I hope Brave Cyaxares Cyax. O speak no more Thou conqu'ring Beauty go There lies your Path We must take several ways If you look back my ling'ring 〈◊〉 stays Exeunt severally Exeunt Omnes Finis Actus Primi Actus Secundus Scaena Prima Cyrus discovered upon his Throne in Triumph amongst his Captains and Soldiers Craesus bound ready for Execution Cyr. ENough These splendid Vanities I loath Sounds of Triumphs The boast of Fools and Pageanty of Cowards It sits too heavy on your Cyrus Arms O let me rise and let 'em loose my Soldiers To throw about your Necks and thus embrace My Valiant Friends and all my brave Confed'rates By whose sole Aid Gods be my Witnesses I own it with a Pride I have restor'd The World to its dear antient Liberty Freed Captiv'd Nations from their Tyrant's Yoaks And plac'd 'em on the Necks of barb'rous Kings Trod down the Walls of fam'd Semiramis That founded first this Asian Monarchy Made my Commands in one quick Moment spread Like Thunder terrible through all the City But let 's no more afflict this Monarch's Spirit But grant him that which ev'ry gallant Soul In vast distress requires a speedy Death Away with him and having plac'd him on The Fuel let it blaze a just Reward For him that has so long set all the World In Flames Quick take him hence As they are carrying off Craesus to Execution Cyrus calls him back Craes. O Solon Solon Solon Cyr. Stay bring him back say What does Craesus mean I did expect thou shouldst have ask'd thy Life And thou in scorn of me call'st loud for Solon Can Solon save thee from the Wrath of Cyrus Craes. No 't is too late but that which made me call On Solon was to my remembrance came The Sentence of that Wise and Learned Teacher Which I till now contemn'd 'T was in the midst Of all my Glories Children Friends and Riches Thinking my self no God cou'd be more happy I sent for Solon to resolve this Question Tell me said I who is the happiest Man On Earth but Solon answer'd there was none None cou'd be truly happy whilst he liv'd I ask'd him then who 't was he thought was happiest Expecting that he shou'd have said 't was Craesus But he reply'd the happiest Man he thought Was Tellus once a Citizen of Athens A Man that had no mean nor mighty Fortune His Wife not fair nor homely but belov'd And virtuous and his Children all obedient Who like the first Man liv'd in Paradice And never press'd the Strangers luscious Fruits Nor drank but what his own full Vines did yield Fed on the Flesh of his own teeming Flocks And wore no Cloaths but what their Backs afforded In his own Pale grew all his Sustenance And in his Bosom all the World 's content Cyr. How brook you then your fall'n and lost Estate Methinks with brave Contempt you bear your Chains And Craesus looks as if he spurn'd his Fate Craes. So much my Mind does soar above my Fortune That I behold with greater scorn these Bonds Than thou born up with the World's flattering Wings Look'st down on me that am thy Slave Yet in Despite of all thou canst I 'm Craesus still Cyr. 'T is bravely said and spoken like a King I have been told that in thy spring of Glory Thou didst consult the Delphick Oracle And kneel'd before the God days numberless Made rich Apollo's Shrines with such vast Presents As did excel what the Earth's Bowels hold Might make a Ransom wou'd restore the World Were 't threatn'd to be ruin'd by the Gods Craes. All this nay more the God did heap upon me My Children Friends and Kingdoms so increas'd That Europe cou'd not bound my spreading Empire Nor Asian Cities number out my Wealth Cyr. The God was grateful to thee for a while But by what wonderful neglect of thine Hast thou since lost the Merit of his Bounty Craes. I 'll tell thee all with a prodigious Patience Having at length tir'd out th' relenting God With my unwear'd steps ne'er ceasing Pray'rs This Answer I receiv'd from the bright Altar Craesus no more Let Craesus know himself And he to his Life's end shall happy be These Words so much exalted my frail Mind That then methought I reign'd not amongst Men But rul'd
of private Foes That sought his Life with great Astyages Led by the dictates of Prophetick Dreams Which now to Cyaxares proves most true That thou I say should'st like a subtile Serpent Wind thy self round my guardless Breast Then watch thy time and Poyson thy Preserver Cyr. Go on go on I hear you patiently Cyax. Nay give me leave to put it to thy Conscience And answer me as thou believ'st it true Cyr. I will Cyax. Did I not save thee in thy Cradle No sooner had Mandana brought thee to The World who then I think was innocent But by Astyages Command thou wert Deliver'd to be slain by Harpagus Have you not heard this oft for truth Cyr. I have Cyax. Have you not heard too how I ventur'd 'twixt My Father's Wrath and Pity to preserve Thy Life by awing Harpagus who caus'd thee At my request in private to be Nurst Telling the King that thou wert surely dead Cyr. This I have oft been told too Cyaâ— Did I not When thou hadst pass'd the Years of Infancy Oft put into my Fathers â—ruel Mind The sence of his most foul unnat'ral Crime In killing thee so long that he 〈◊〉 And wish'd a thousand times theâ— wert alive Again This opportunity I took To tell the King of the deceipt and beg'd The Life of Harpagus Then â—treight wert thou Sent for to Court and this thou well rememberst Cyr. I do Cyax. This did I though 't was Prophecy'd That thou shou'dst quite subvert the Median Empire And fill the Throne of great Astyages Then did I not after my Father's Death And when I reign'd alone keep thee still by me Taught thee the use of Arms to chace the Boar To hurl thy little Dart and wound the Panther And when the fiery Beast wou'd turn upon thee I then wou'd interpose a violent stroak And taught thee how to give a mortal Blow Leaving the Savage gasping at thy Feet And this thou art well witness of thy self Cyr. All this and more you bring to my remembrance Cyax. Is 't possible thou hast not then forgot Is this a kind return for all my Love Who first began the War with Balthazar Was 't not my self twice beat him in set Battels Until thou wert of Years when for thy Fame I sent thee with the flower of all my Strength To prosecute my Victories and thou Whole tedious Years hast kept the War on foot Using my Subjects till they have forgot Their Countries Gods their Fashions and their King And worship nothing but the Sun and thee Pity me Gods for sure I am become But the poor Shadow of the thing I was Cyr. O Unkle hold For I can hear no more What wicked Man has poison'd thus your Ear Your words though they are most unjust and I Am guiltless yet they 're Daggers to my Soul When spoken with unkindness ah why droops My Royal Uncle hanging down your Head Throbbing that noble Heart as if the weight Of all the Miseries on Earth depress'd it Snatch me ye Gods this Moment into Nothing If I your Cyrus am the least to blame In what you have accus'd me Cyax. Well I 've done Cyr. Have I worn out my Youth at home your Subject In War your General deny'd my self The soft Retirements of the Court in which Your meanest Paraâ—ite enjoys more Pleasure Hâ—re not my Courriers found you in the Height Oâ— Banquetâ—ing inform'd you of the Dangers That I had pass'd in ev'ry dreadful Fight Which only the Relation of 'em made Your trembling Courtiers spill their brimming Bowls And with the Palsie life 'em to their Mouths Cyax. No more my Cyrus Cyr. And have I not augmented all the Kingdoms Of great Astyages with Hazard of My own What Crown what Treasure have I gain'd Of which I did not make you first a Proffer Do I a Secret keep or hide from you Or hoard that Wealth of which you shall not share Is it for this I have so ill deserv'd My Unkle's Envy and unjust Suspicion Cyax. Enough my Cyrus Cyr. Will you then embrace me Cyax. I will Cyr. And let me kiss your Cheek Cyax. Thou shalt O Cyrus Thou hast conquer'd me my Cyrus I can no longer hold but must forgive thee See see these Tears that sprung from Tydes of Crief Are now augmented to a Sea of Joy Hide 'em for shame Oh hide 'em in thy Bosom Come I will chide no more may I be thought They both rise up A Coward led in Triumph by my Foes And put t'an ignominious Death when I Again reflect unkindly on my Cyrus Thou art my Son this Moment I adopt thee And I will die the sooner to make Room For thee Cyr. O my dear Father say not so To morrow brings the Empire of the World I see it plain and dazling Victory Flies like an Eagle circling round your Head To shew our Way o'er Hills of slain Assyrians And under falling Clouds of Scythian Darts Which from ouâ— Shields we 'll throw like scatter'd Hail Whilst with one Voice around the conquer'd Field The Dying praise us and the Living yield Exeunt Omnes Finis Actus Secundi Actus Tertius Scaena Prima Enter Cyrus with Guards Cyaxares with Hystaspes meeting him Cyax. I 'VE a Request to beg of you my Cyrus Cyr. What is 't my Royal Unkle speak yet not 'T is granted ' ere 't is nam'd Cyax. 'T is that you wou'd forgive the brave Hystaspes And here restore him to your wonted Favours Cyr. O 't is the thing that I with Joy intended And now he 's doubly fix'd Rise my Hystaspes My Soldier rise my Kinsman my Right Arm For that was ne'er so near me in the Fight Nor push'd it on so fiercely O my Friend Dost think I have forgot my valiant Leader But above all at the Surprize of Sardis When thou wert follow'd by the Homotyms Led by thy brave Example all dismounted Your fiery Coursers and with Scaling-Ladders Climb'd up the Walls and shouted on the Top In spite of Showres of Flints and Clouds of Arrows Theâ— leap'd into the Street and there you fought Till you had op'd the Gates amidst the Guards And clear'd my Way through Clusters to the Town This this with Joy I do remember still Hyst Your Royal Grace extends too far above The Merits of Hystaspes O I grieve When I look back on my Offence to you The bravest Master and the best of Kings Cyr. No more Hystaspes welcome to thy Prince More dear to him than penitent Children are To Parents or than Martyrs to the Gods And like them too I will reward thee Hyst O I know y' are liberal Can disperse Crowns and Sceptres as you please And make a Monarch of the Man you favour But Pardon 's the rich only thing I beg And is from Cyrlls more than I can merit Cyr. Enough Hystaspes thou shalt see I love thee Wâ—en I bestow upon thee such a Treasure That all Mankind shall wish to be thy Rivals Craesus thy Ear