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A30838 Cyrus the Great, or, The tragedy of love as it is acted at the theatre in Little-Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, by His Majesty's servants / written by John Banks. Banks, John, d. 1706. 1696 (1696) Wing B656; ESTC R17203 42,740 68

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be approach'd More near Goddess Divinity Bright Ven●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 F●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 Murde●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. Cyr●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 En●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 Wi●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 migh●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 ●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 o●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
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 A●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 h●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 ado●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