'Tis held as yet a secret from the world. Frighted by hideous dreams I shook off sleep, And as I mus'd the garden walks along, Thro' the deep gloom, close in a neighb'ring walk, Vardanes with proud Lysias I beheld, Still eager in discourse they saw not me, For yet the early dawn had not appear'd; I sought a secret stand, where hid from view, I heard stern Lysias, hail the Prince Vardanes As Parthia's dreaded Lord!--"'Tis done", he cry'd, "'Tis done, and Artabanus is no more. The blow he gave me is repay'd in blood; Now shall the morn behold two rising suns: Vardanes thou, our better light, shalt bring Bright day and joy to ev'ry heart." GOTARZES. Why slept Your vengeance, oh! ye righteous Gods? PHRAATES. Then told A tale, so fill'd with bloody circumstance, Of this damn'd deed, that stiffen'd me with horror. Vardanes seem'd to blame the hasty act, As rash, and unadvis'd, by passion urg'd, Which never yields to cool reflection's place. But, being done, resolv'd it secret, lest The multitude should take it in their wise Authority to pry into his death. Arsaces was, by assassination, Doom'd to fall. Your name was mention'd also-- But hurried by my fears away, I left The rest unheard-- GOTARZES. What can be done?--Reflection, why wilt thou Forsake us, when distress is at our heels? Phraates, help me, aid me with thy council. PHRAATES. Then stay not here, fly to Barzaphernes, His conqu'ring troops are at a trivial distance; Soon will you reach the camp; he lov'd your Brother, And your Father with affection serv'd; haste Your flight, whilst yet I have the city-guard, For Lysias I expect takes my command. I to the camp dispatch'd a trusty slave, Before the morn had spread her blushing veil. Away, you'll meet the Gen'ral on the road, On such a cause as this he'll not delay. GOTARZES. I thank your love-- SCENE II. PHRAATES [_alone_]. I'll wait behind, my stay May aid the cause; dissembling I must learn, Necessity shall teach me how to vary My features to the looks of him I serve. I'll thrust myself disguis'd among the croud, And fill their ears with murmurs of the deed: Whisper all is not well, blow up the sparks Of discord, and it soon will flame to rage. SCENE III. _QUEEN and LYSIAS._ QUEEN. Haste, and shew me to the Prince Arsaces, Delay not, see the signet of Vardanes. LYSIAS. Royal Thermusa, why this eagerness? This tumult of the soul?--what means this dagger? Ha!--I suspect-- QUEEN. Hold--for I'll tell thee, Lysias. 'Tis--oh! I scarce can speak the mighty joy-- I shall be greatly blest in dear revenge, 'Tis vengeance on Arsaces--yes, this hand Shall urge the shining poniard to his heart, And give him death--yea, give the ruffian death; So shall I smile on his keen agonies. LYSIAS. Ha! am I robb'd of all my hopes of vengeance, Shall I then calmly stand with all my wrongs, And see another bear away revenge?