Classic Poem

SCENE IX.

Ast. Bring me before the King.
Phra. Perfidious woman!
Look on that wretch, who there lyes pale and cold
Was he not brought in private to your chamber?
Who gave instructions to accuse Sophernes?
Who promis'd life and pardon to Hydarnes?
Ast. All then is lost. Astarbe is betray'd.
But shall I stoop to lead a life of shame?
No. This shall close a scene of long remorse.
Phra. Astarbe! hold!
Ast. Forgive me!
Phra. Her foul treachery
My soul detests. But love will force a tear.
What mov'd her hatred thus against your life?
Soph. She was unhappy. Let her be forgot.
Phra. Draw near, Cylene . May heav'n bless your loves!
Cyl. Shall he then live? My heart o'erflows with joy.
Now life is worth accepting, worth desiring,
Worth ev'ry wish, and ev'ry daily prayer.
Phra. By you the royal vestment shall be worn,
And next the King, all honour shall be paid
To you who sav'd him.
Soph. What I did was due.
I've only paid a debt of gratitude;
What would your bounty more? — you've giv'n me all.
For in these arms I ev'ry wish possess.
Phra. Life is a voyage, and we with pain and labour
Must weather many a storm, to reach the port.
Soph. Since 'tis not giv'n to mortals to discern
Their real good and ill: let men learn patience:
Let us the toils of adverse fate sustain,
For through that rugged road our hopes we gain.