Enter KING and MERES.

King. Araxes here? In every place he crosses

me,

Meres, you know not how I hate that youth: Meres. But send him to the wars-if he return, E'en in your palace let him act his treasons. King. Observe you his distracted mien? our plot

Holds well-these honors raise the boy to madness!

The people idolize a feather, trust me.

Meres. Their adorations should be fed with

change.

King. My faithful Meres, oh were mighty

kings

Serv'd as by you, an empire were a pastime :
Meres, draw near-tell me, thou loyal subject,
Dost thou perceive a likeness in that youth
To any picture thou hast ever seen?

Meres. Picture, great king? not I-I've heard it said

He close resembles that of the late king:
I think not so-

King. Does he resemble this? (Shewing a miniature.)

Meres. You mock your slave: It is Araxes' self:

King. There strikes the thunderbolt--'tis right, right, Meres:

1

(Aside) The very picture Ninus gave my wife On her first marriage.

Meres. Your majesty?

King. A sudden pang just shot across my

brow:

'Tis past now may his king accost this man?
This creature of his favor? what, Araxes!
What means the insolent? to make no answer,
No sign of our high station, as we pass,
But rather glance a side-long frown upon us?
Araxes know you not? how now? in silence?
Arax. (Not having perceived him.) There is a
power above that searches hearts,
And when th' æthereal quintessence, the soul,
This all-pervading thought, this consciousness,
This acting, suffering sensibility,

This living principle, this very life,

Shall unimpeded by the body stand

Naked and bare, before that awful judge,
Superfluous will his dreadful sentence fall

On that quick essence, which must be all anguish,

If anguish is it's due, or joy if joy :

The sentence shall be heard for justice' sake
More than for punishment, on that poor being
That shivers with it's own deformity:

Then virtue in it's proper strength shall stand,
A robe more gorgeous than the regal purple,
Covering the frailty of our mortal nature.
Yet on the earth we must have justice too,

Or will this goodly frame burst from the ties
That hold it as 'twas made:

King. Break off, Araxes

And mark who interrupts this homily:

Arax. Sir, I was dwelling on a heav'nly

theme,

And when the soul is full of meditation,

On points connected with a blest hereafter,
Or everlasting pain, it is not fit

To bow the knee to earthly pageantry.
King. We are your sovereign, boy!
Arax. I am your subject:

Your pardon, mighty sir-this absent mood
Makes me forget my homage to my king:
Rich but in leisure, I was early taught
On fav'rite themes to commune with myself,
To make my solitary moments vocal,
And fondly imitate society.

'Twas my misfortune from my boyish years,
Or rather fault, had not just punishment
Already waited on a monarch's frown.

King. You are prepar'd for war! we shall

exalt you

To a command, shall give your talents scope:
No more the creature of a transient will,
No more dependent on a happy chance:
No petty squadron shall your valour lead
Against a half-made breach-now mighty walls
In vast circumference shall fall before you,
And all our forces march unbroken in:

Arax. Believe me, sire! whene'er I meet the foe

Of Babylon, my arm knows no repose:

King. Enough! prepare we your commission, lord!

Then to the camp with all the speed you may. Meres. And to return, great in the warrior's

fame,

'Mid the fond rapture of applauding nations.

Exeunt.

Arax. Not in the camp I meet my bitterest

foe,

Not there I find my country's deadliest scourge: Guard me, just heav'n, with thy shelt'ring

care,

Protect me, holy Oroes, with thy counsel.

Exit.

SCENE II.-The vestibule of the Temple.

Enter MITRANES.

Mit. Ere this the great Araxes knows his fate: Great! 'tis a name pre-eminently his! What feeling 'tis that binds me to this man, By sacred ties no other friendship owns, I know not-but were he my king confest, Scarce could his virtues force a humbler homage.

Enter ARAXES from the interior of the Temple.

Mit. My friend!

Arax. The day is festival, Mitranes!

Assur is at his prayers-thanking the gods! Mit. For your great actions, that augment his power!

Arax. There is the cause, and in that cause,
Mitranes,

Whate'er is whisper'd in the general ear,
I find myself a traitor to my king.

Mit. How?

Arax. Holy father Oroes said, beware: I will beware: yet is't not strange, Mitranes, Nature and fortune should so ill agree, That no distinction marks out man from man, But by these wretched baubles ?-(pointing to his order of nobility) nay, it happens, The two blind goddesses shall act inversely, And hence the peasant rise above the lord: Nor should we wonder, when a monarch's son, Himself, by right indisputable, king, Walks his own capital, unknown, unhonor'd, Receiving daily news from rude mechanics.

Mit. You speak enigmas! oh! be plain with me!

Araxes, we have liv'd and fought together,
And when you rag'd upon the edge of war,
On the extremest verge on this side death,
Though distantly, yet next, I track'd your

course: