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And on Phraates fix'd her erring sight,

Thy brave unhappy friend she took for thee,

By his garb deceiv'd, which like to thine he wore.

Still with her eye she follow'd him, where e'er

He pierc'd the foe, and to Vardanes sword

She saw him fall a hapless victim, then,

In agonies of grief, flew to Evanthe,

And told the dreadful tale—the fatal bowl

I saw—

. Be dumb, nor ever give again

Fear to the heart, with thy ill-boding voice.

. Here, I 'll rest, till death, on thy lov'd bosom,

Here let me sigh my— Oh! the poison works—

. Oh! horror!—

. Cease—this sorrow pains me more

Than all the wringing agonies of death,

The dreadful parting of the soul from this,

Its wedded clay— Ah! there—that pang shot thro'

My throbbing heart—

. Save her, ye Gods!—oh! save her!

And I will bribe ye with clouds of incense;

Such num'rous sacrifices, that your altars

Shall even sink beneath the mighty load.

. When I am dead, dissolv'd to native dust,

Yet let me live in thy dear mem'ry—

One tear will not be much to give Evanthe.

. My eyes shall e'er two running fountains be,

And wet thy urn with overflowing tears,

Joy ne'er again within my breast shall find

A residence— Oh! speak, once more—

. Life's just out—

My Father— Oh! protect his honour'd age,

And give him shelter from the storms of fate,

He 's long been fortune's sport— Support me— Ah!—

I can no more—my glass is spent—farewell—

Forever—Arsaces!—Oh! (Dies.)

. Stay, oh! stay,

Or take me with thee—dead! she 's cold and dead!

Her eyes are clos'd, and all my joys are flown—

Now burst ye elements, from your restraint,

Let order cease, and chaos be again.

Break! break, tough heart!—oh! torture—life dissolve—

Why stand ye idle? Have I not one friend

To kindly free me from this pain? One blow,

One friendly blow would give me ease.

. The Gods

Forefend!— Pardon me, Royal Sir, if I

Dare, seemingly disloyal, seize your sword,

Despair may urge you far—

. Ha! traitors! rebels!—

Hoary rev'rend Villain! what, disarm me?

Give me my sword—what, stand ye by, and see

Your Prince insulted? Are ye rebels all?—

. Be calm, my gracious Lord!

. Oh! my lov'd Brother!

. Gotarzes too! all! all! conspir'd against me?

Still, are ye all resolv'd that I must live,

And feel the momentary pangs of death?—

Ha!—this, shall make a passage for my soul—

Out, out vile cares, from your distress'd abode— (Stabs himself.)

. Oh! ye eternal Gods!

. Distraction! heav'ns!

I shall run mad—

. Ah! 't is in vain to grieve—

The steel has done its part, and I 'm at rest.—

Gotarzes, wear my crown, and be thou blest,

Cherish, Barzaphernes, my trusty chief—

I faint, oh! lay me by Evanthe's side—

Still wedded in our deaths—Bethas—

. Despair,

My Lord, has broke his heart, I saw him stretch'd,

Along the flinty pavement, in his gaol—

Cold, lifeless—

. He 's happy then—had he heard

This tale, he'd— Ah! Evanthe chides my soul,