Vardanes.

Vardanes.

Sure some God,

Bid you thus call me to my dawning honours,

And joyful I obey the pleasing summons.

Now by the pow'rs of heav'n, of earth and hell,

Most solemnly I swear, I will not know

That quietude which I was wont to know,

'Til I have climb'd the height of all my wishes,

Or fell, from glory, to the silent grave.

Lysias.

Lysias.

Nobly resolv'd, and spoken like Vardanes,

There shone my Prince in his superior lustre.

Vardanes.

Vardanes.

But, then, Arsaces, he's a fatal bar—

O! could I brush this busy insect from me,

Which envious strives to rob me of my bloom,

Then might I, like some fragrant op'ning flow'r,

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