send for thy Daughter straight I promis'd thee that I wou'd chuse a Husband For her and I will do it Such a Husband That thou shalt bless the happy Moment when Thy Wife brought such a Daughter to the World To be so well bestow'd Go fetch her Craesus Craes. O happy Girl Lausaria he does Intend sure to bestow himself upon her Exit Craesus Hyst O Gods I dream Can there be such a Thought Has he resolv'd to give Panthea to me Cyr. Prepare Hystaspes now to meet such Joys Which if thy Sences are not all Immortal Thou art not able to sustain Behold Re-Enter Craesus leading Lausaria attended Behold the brightest Star that gilds the World And makes that Bosom Heav'n where e'er she shines Hyst Is this the Prize of all my flatt'ring Hopes Now I perceive the Gulf that lies before me Yet I run on and cannot stop my self This Mortal Disobedience stabs me quite Laus Now all you gentle Powers that pity Love And thou Diana from the Stars look down Behold the bashful Virgin of thy Train I see my Life or Death writ in those Eyes There is no Mean betwixt my Heav'n or Hell I 'm to be rais'd this Moment to the Skies Or flung into the bottom of Despair Cyr. Assist me Iove and all you that disperse Rich Blessings from the Skies Lend me your Aid Extend my liberal Hands for I 'm to make Two Mortals now so infinitely happy As will amaze your Godheads all to see And make you wish to be translated here Give me thy Hand thou soft thou lovely Virgin Ha! why what makes thou tremble start and blush And now look pale This Combat of thy Beauty's Adorns thy Cheeks with double Victories Whilst both in Competition strive to paint A Colour there to set at Enmity The Lilly and the Roâ—e Draw near Hystaspes Laus O Gods your Help what does he mean to do Cyr Give me your Hand what now what means the Man Give me your Hand I say I did expect You shou'd have flewn like Lightning to my Arms And snatch'd her from me so unmannerly Thy Raptures should have been 〈…〉 Why holds Lausaria back You both draw back Hyst Your Pardon Royal Sir if my Offence Be not too great to challenge any Mercy I do confess the Wonder of the Bliss ha stunn'd me The Joy's too great too mighty for my Sense And therefore to approach it as I ought O give me time to study how to bear it Cyr. Away I 've heard too much I 'll talk with you Anon What means Laâ—saria Riâ—e my Charge Laus Ah why d' you kill with such a Look of Anger Now your strange Beauties are so awful grown That they 're above all Mortals to behold Without a Dread O stay the Lightning in Your Eyes What will become of brave Hystaspes If you let loose to Action all your Frowns And execute the Terrour of your Looks Pour 'em on me 't was I the Grace deny'd For lo I think so meanly of my self That I can live to be refus'd by him Cyr. Rise or you press my yielding Heart to Death This hurls me on the more to thy Revenge Guards seize that Traytour drive him from my Presence To Exile let him go and not be seen So near as Asia does her spreading Empire bound Laus O let me beg you wou'd recall your Doom Cyax. Nephew Craes. O Cyrus Mighty Prince but hear us Cyr. Keep off and give me Breath you stifle me Why Unkle Craesus King of Lydia I 've decreed it And none amongst the Stars shall ' ere revoke Away with him A thousand Basilisks Are in his Eyes Hyst With haste I will obey you Thus on my Knees I take your gentle Doom I go To Banishment and if my wand'ring Steps Direct me where to do you some poor Service I 'll do 't with hazard of this hated Life Ten thousand Victories nay more Immortal Crowns and Eveâ—lasting Laurels Adorn the Head of the most God like Cyrus Exit Hystaspes Craes. He 's gone and see the King looks discontent Cyax. Why Nephew Cyrus you are mov'd Laus O Cyrus Cyr. What says the bright the wrong'd Lausaria Laus Why have you banish'd from your sight Hystaspes I 'll tell you then how rashly you have done The Sun and Moon might in our Heav'n appear And both at once disperse their Rival Lights E're our two Loves cou'd join and shou'd Hystaspes hope Yet you your self forbid the scornful Hymen Since it must out I 'll tell it if my Sighs Mixt with Ten Thousand Blushes give me leave I love Heav'ns This poor Daughter to a Captive Prince Owns it with Pride that she does love the Man Of all the World the greatest bravest Soul As e'er the Gods put in a mortal Body Cyr. Alas What 's this I hear Laus Now judge by what I 've said if I cou'd e'er Descend to love another I have done O look not on me I am all on Fire Burnt up with Blushes which these Tears inrage This mortal Secret you have wrack'd from me Will kill Lausaria Craes. Unhappy Girl Laus Give me a Vail And now the World farewel Cyr. What means the bright the wrong'd Lausaria Why dost thou hide thy Charming Face from Cyrus Laus 'T is just after a Confidence so new It shou'd for ever thus be shut from you My Blushes to all Eyes may be unknown But oh I ne'er can shrowd 'em from my own Olympus is too low I want beside The Sun to be Eclips'd my Shame to hide Cold Cydnus make thy Icy Stream my Urn To drown my Flames and quench me now I bâ—rn Exit Laus Cyax. What does not this start Pity from your Eyes And Heart Cyr. Tell me instruct me what to do O Cyaxares lend me thy dear Breast T' unload my Griefs and learn thy precious Council Run for Hystaspes quick if not too late Tell him his Prince repeals his Banishment Will take him to his gentle Arms again Excuse dear Unkle these unruly Passions Exit Officer And oh my Friends forgive your Cyrus Frailties Sound of a Trumpet Enter to them Artabasus What means this Trumpet 's formal sound The News Arta. It is a Herauld from th' Assyrian Camp That says the Scythian Queen the brave Thomyris With Abradatas the young Susan King Attend to ask a moments Parley with you Cyr. Then we shall â—ee this wonder of her Sâ—x Craesus thou knowst her Is she then so Brave So Great and Valiant as the World 〈◊〉 her Craes. She is indeed a Woman of such Spirit As you have heard of Iuno of such Honour Such haughty Valour and 〈◊〉 Masculine That she 's well call'd the Miracle of Women But then like bold 〈…〉 With ev'ry Vice of the 〈…〉 And monstrous of her Sex Yet Aâ—radatas Is truly Valiant Brave and Virtuous But heark she comes this Trumpet speaks her Entrance Enter to them Thomyris Abradatus Women and Attendance in State 〈◊〉 Guards Cyr. She is indeed of admirable Presence Thom. There
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
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
close lock'd in thine my Abradatas And send our Tears and our Requests together Look Mighty Conqu'rour cast your Eyes beneath Both kneel And may your Arms and Fame increase in Wars As you to Love are pityful and kind Abra. Now God-like Cyrus from thy Rage look down By all those Virtues that have made thee shine And gain'd the Name of the Immortal Cyrus Oh stoop to see what mighty Love can do That humbles thus thy generous Enemy And makes a Suppliant of thy mortall'st Foe Since you have felt the Rage of Jealous Love The Fire that burns unruly in your Breast Pity me then and give Panthea to me O give her to these Arms Panth. Mighty Cyrus Give Abradatas to my thousand Wishes And Oh restore his lov'd Panthea to him Cyr. They kneel She kneels See see my valiant Friends Do not my Eyes shed Blood They shou'd they shou'd For all the Torments that I feel within This is the sharpest Stroak that ever touch'd My Virtue here Rise Goddess In this Posture Thou art more cruel to thy Cyrus far Than he can be to thee Panth. Here we will grow Thus ever fix'd thus rooted as you see us Till from the noblest Breath of all the World We hear the Sentence of our Death or Life Cyr. Oh Friends I feel a War within my Breast The horrid Sound of Fights and parting Ghosts Are all but Musick to my tortur'd Sence Yet fain I 'd get the Vict'ry o'er my self But Oh I can't and find I am too weak By all the Gods it is beyond a Mortal Ha! Part 'em or the Sight will kill Your General And Oh my Fellow-Soldiers Stay whilst this dreadful Moment I retire And having rais'd Panthea from the Ground Send my triumphant Rival back for this Is more than all the Wounds e'er had in Fight And I can fly from nothing but this Sight Exit Cyrus Abra. Now now I curse my Tameness and these Knees That made me stoop so low to beg ev'n thee Away Panthea wish me not to stay Go to thy Gaoler back and load his Head With Curses whilst thy Abradatas shall Prepare to fight and pour 'em all upon him Thom. Go we must leave thee in thy Prison again But in the Morning thou shalt rise from thence Bright as the Sun that revels in his Chariot And see thy self as free Go whilst we stay Revenge grows tame and we forget thy Wrongs Panth. Then must we part Yet I 'm to blame Begone Go whilst my Woman's Soul can give thee leave And all the Blessings of a Love that 's chaste A faithful tender Wife 's kind Thoughts attend thee Abra. O my Panthea Panth. And to inspire thee more call to thy Mind Our Infant Loves the soft and precious Vows That we have oft exâ—hang'd Nights without Number As were the Stars our Witnesses till all Those petty lesser Knots were quite unravell'd And made one Nuptial Bond I 've done Farewell But Oh regard Regard that precious Life By which both live and all the Gods protect thee Abra. The Thoughts of thee shall still enrich my Mind With all the Pleasures that are yet to come And those that are like Visions slid away How oft we 've tyr'd the Watchings of the Moon Till the pale Empress of the Night grew weary And sate to rest behind a silken Cloud Thom. Have done or I must act the Part of Cyrus And tear you from each others Arms. Abra. This Kiss and then we part Farewell It comes Methinks already the fierce Storm begins And bears thee from me o'er a thousand Billows Panth. Thee like a Rock I fain wou'd hold but cannot But Oh! rough Horrour like a desperate Sea Throws me from off Love's Fortress and from thee Abra. Weep not my Soul Who knows but that ' ere long Our weary'd Barks may meet the Storm o'er-blown Trust till to morrow what the Gods can do Exeunt Thomyris Abradatas and their Attendants at one Door and Panthea weeping with her Maids at another Manent Cyaxares Craesus Artabasus and Guards Cyax. Let a strong Guard attend the Scythian Queen Till she is safe arriv'd within her Camp Re-Enter Cyrus Cyr. Tell me kind Unkle tell thy Cyrus quickly How bore the sad Panthea her Departure Cyax. As silent as the Day gives way to Night And patient as the Spirit of a Saint Dying and leaving all the World behind him Cyr. Run Artabasus run and kneel before her Tell her what Kingdom in the World can buy One Smile or Tear on Abradatas thrown And 't shall be hers The Sea's nor Craesus Hoard Holds not the Wealth that I will bid for either My Life nay say Ten thousand Lives are her Tell what thou canst invent Tell her what not Say more than if thou wert in Love thou then Cou'dst say Yet hold I will not trust thy self alone Come all with me You Unkle are a Father Speak as you wou'd do to your only Daughter Drop all the Sweetness of a Parent 's Tongue Craesus is wise and has been taught to speak Thy Eloquence has clear'd the Delphick Riddles O charm my Goddess as thou charm'st the God Craes. Else may I fall a Sacrifice to Cyrus Cyax. Rejoice my Cyrus doubt not thy Success That needs must move which tortures all our Pity Cyr. 'T is she must pity you forgive my Passion Lend me a Dagger one of you or kill me Come who is Noble level here thy Dart And reach this wanton Cupid in my Heart Death from my meanest Vassal I will stand Or fall by any but a Woman's Hand For Love still plays the Tyrant with the Great Le ts Fools and Cowards prosper in their State And only makes the Brave Unfortunate Exeunt Omnes Finis Actus Tertii Actus Quartus Scaena Prima Scene draws and discovers Cyrus and Cyaxares They come forwards Cyr. YET more Have I not said enough dear Unkle And have you not already seen and heard With blushing too much of your Cyrus Frailties Cyax. Tell me my Cyrus when you have disclos'd The heavy Load that lies upon your Soul I 'll pour a Balm into 't shall give you Ease These Strugglings of the Nobler Passions shew The most Heroick Mind that ever was Cyr. O Cyaxares I 'm all Guilt all Stain Ev'n I that rid the foremost in the World And knew how Dear how Great and how Esteem'd A Thing my hard-got Honour was yet that And all are drown'd within a Sea of Love â— My Empires Crowns quite ruin'd by the Fair That gilded o'er the deep deluding Danger Then tempted me to split O all my fame My matchless Glories with my self are sunk In the false footing of a Woman's smile Cyax. You are Impartial to a fault my Cyrus Whose Love is guided by the Rays of Vertue The Crime is not so great to be in Love The Gods themselves have often felt its Power Witness the many scapes of Iupiter And the Wise Men have all confess'd that once In his whole Life the bravest
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
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
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