'Til from Arsaces' hand he met the fate His crimes deserv'd. Phraates. Phraates. As yet your princely Brother Has scap'd Thermusa's rage, for still residing In peaceful times, within his Province, ne'er Has fortune blest her with a sight of him, On whom she'd wreck her vengeance. Gotarzes. Gotarzes. She has won By spells, I think, so much on my fond father, That he is guided by her will alone. She rules the realm, her pleasure is a law, All offices and favours are bestow'd, As she directs. Phraates. Phraates. But see, the Prince, Vardanes,
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