Zen. Your cares for me denote a heart that feels For others woes.- -Methinks with strength renew'd I could adventure forth again.

2d Atten. 'T were best

Repose your wearied spirits---we will seek

Yon rising ground, and bring the swiftest tidings

Of all the mingled tumult.

Zen. Go, my virgins;

Watch well each movement of the marshall'd field;
Each turn of fortune; let me know it all ;-
Each varying circumstance.-

Zel. And will you thus,

Be doom'd for ever, Ariana, thus

A willing prey to visionary ills

The self-consuming votarist of care?

Zen. Alas! I'm doom'd to weep---the wrath of Heaven

With inexhausted vengeance follows still,

And each day comes with aggravated woes.

Zel. Yet when Iberia's king, when Pharasmanes, With all a lover's fondness

Zen. Name him not!

Name not a monster horrible with blood,

The widows, orphans, and the virgin's tears I
Zel. Yet savage as he is, at sight of thee
Each fiercer passion softens into love,
To you he bends; the monarch of the east
Dejected droops beneath your cold disdain,
And all the tyranny of female pride.

Zen. That pride is virtue; virtue that abhors The tyrant reeking from a brother's murder! Oh! Mithridates! ever honour'd shade!

-Peaceful he reign'd, dispensing good around him,
In the mild eve of honourable days!-
Through all her peopled realm Armenia felt
His equal sway ;---the sunset of his power
With fainter beams, but undiminish'd glory,
Still shone serene, while ev'ry conscious subject
With tears of praise beheld his calm decline,
And bless'd the parting ray !---yet then, Zelmira,
Oh! fact accurs'd! yes Pharasmanes then,
Detested perfidy !---nor ties of blood,

Nor sacred laws, nor the just gods restrain him:
In the dead midnight hour the fell assassin
Rush'd on the slumber of the virtuous man ;
His life-blood gush'd; the venerable king
Wak'd, saw a brother arm'd against his life,
-Forgave him and expir'd!

Zel. Yet wherefore open

Afresh the wounds, which time long since hath clos'd?
-This Day confirms his sceptre in his hand.
Zen. Confirms his sceptre-his !---indignant gods,
Will no red vengeance from your stores of wrath
Burst down to crush the tyrant in his guilt?
His sceptre, saidst thou ?---urge that word no more---
'The sceptre of his son!---the solemn right

Of Rhadamistus !---Mithridates' choice,

That call'd him to his daughter's nuptial bed,

Approv'd him lineal heir ;---consenting nobles,
The public will, the sanction of the laws,
All ratified his claim ;---yet, curs'd ambition,
Deaf to a nation's voice, a nation's charter,
Nor satisfied to fill Iberia's throne,

Made war, unnatural war, against a son,
Usurp'd his crown, and with remorseless rage
Pursued his life.

Zel. Can Ariana plead

For such a son ?---means she to varnish o'er

The guilt of Rhadamistus?

Zen. Guilt, Zelmira!

Zel. Guilt that shoots horror through my aching

heart!

Poor lost Zenobia!

Zen. And do her misfortunes

Awaken tender pity in your breast?

Zel. Ill-fated princess! in her vernal bloom By a false husband murder'd!---from the stem A rose-bud torn, and in some desert cave

Thrown by to moulder into silent dust !.

Zen. You knew not Rhadamistus !---Pharasmanes
Knew not the early virtues of his son.'
As yet an infant in his tend'rest years
His father sent him to Armenia's court,
That Mithridates' care might form his mind
To arts, to wisdom, and to manners worthy
Armenia' sceptre, and Zenobia's love.

The world delighted saw each dawning virtue,
Each nameless grace to full perfection rising !-

Oh! he was all the fondest maid could wish,
All truth, all honour, tenderness and love!

Yet from his empire thrown! with merciless fury
His father following, slaughter raging round,
What could the hero in that die extreme?

Zel. Those strong impassion d looks !---Some fatal

secret

Works in her heart, and melts her into tears. [Aside.
Zen. Driven to the margin of Araxes' flood,

No means of flight, aghast he look’d around-
Wild throbb'd his bosom with conflicting passions,
And must I then? tears gush'd and choak'd his voice,
And must I leave thee then, Zenobia? must
Thy beauteous form---he paus’d, then aim'd a poniard
At his great heart.--but oh! I rush'd upon him,
And with these arms close-wreathing round his neck,
With all the vehemence of prayers and shrieks,
Implor'd the only boon he then could grant
To perish with him in a fond embrace.
The foe drew near---time press'd, no way was
He clasp'd me to his heart---together both,
Lock'd in the folds of love, we plung'd at once
And sought a requiem in the roaring flood.

Zel. This wondrous tale---this sudden burst of passion

Zen. Ha!---whither has my frenzy led me ?—hark! That sound of triumph !—lost, for ever lost!

Ruin'd Armenia

-Oh! devoted race!

[A flourish of trumpets.

TIGRANES, Soldiers, and some Prisoners, enter. Zen. Thy looks, Tigranes, indicate thy purpose! The armies met, and Pharasmanes conquer'd; Is it not so?

Tig. As yet with pent up fury

The soldier pants to let destruction loose.
With eager speed we urg'd our rapid march,
To where the Romans tented in the vale
With cold delay protract the ling'ring war.
At our approach their scanty numbers form
Their feeble lines, the future prey of vengeance.
Zen. And wherefore, when thy sword demands its
share

Of havock in that scene of blood and horror,
Wherefore return'st thou to this lonely camp?

Tig. With cautious eye as I explor'd the forest, Which rises thick near yonder ridge of mountains, And stretches o'er the interminable plain,

I saw these captives in the gloomy wood,
Seeking with silent march the Roman camp.
Impal'd alive 't is Pharasmanes' will

They suffer death in misery of torment.

Zen. Unhappy men !—and must they- -ha!that face,

That aged mien !-that venerable form!—

Immortal pow'rs!—is it my more than father?—
Is that Megistus?-

Meg. Ariana here!

C