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Your goods shall be untouch'd, your persons safe, Nor shall our troops, henceforth, on pain of death, Molest your march.—If more you ask, 'tis granted.
Eum. Still just and brave! thy virtues would adorn A purer faith ! Thou, better than thy sect, That dar'st decline from that to acts of mercy! Pardon, Abudah, if thy honest heart Makes us even wish thee ours.
Abu. [Aside.] O Power Supreme! That mad'stmy heart, and know'st its inmost frame, If yet I err, O lead me into truth,
Or pardon unknown error! Now, Eumenes,
Friends as we may be, let us part in peace.
Enter Artamon and Eudocia.
Eud. Alas! but is my father safe?
Art. Heaven knows.
Eud. My flight! but whither?
Art. I hope not so.
We soon shall know; here's one, that can inform
Enter first Officer.
Soldier, thy looks speak well. What says thy tongue?
1 Offi. The foe's withdrawn; Abudah has been here, And has renew'd the terms. Caled is kill'd
Art. Hold first thank Heaven for that!
Eud. Where is Eumenes?
1 Offi. I left him well; by his command I came To search you out: and let you know this news. I've more; but that
Art. Is bad, perhaps, so says
1 Offi. Eumenes mourns
Art. See, where Eumenes comes! What's this? He seems
To lead some wounded friend Alas! 'tis—
[They withdraw to one Side of the Stage.
Enter Eumenes, leading in Phoc Y As, with an Arrow in kit Breast.
Eum. Give me thy wound ! O I could bear it for thee! This goodness melts my heart. What, in a moment Forgetting all thy wrongs, in kind embraces T'exchange forgiveness thus!
Pho. Moments are few,
Eurn. Look, look here, Eudocia!
Eud. Phocyas, and wounded! O what cruel
hand— Pho. No 'twas a kind one—Spare thy tears, Eudocia!
For mine are tears of joy
Eud. Is't possible?
Pho. 'Tis done the powers supreme have heard
my prayer, And prosper'd me with some fair deed this day. I've fought once more, and for my friends, my country. By me the treacherous chiefs are slain ; a while I stopp'd the foe, till, warn'd by me before, Of this their sudden march, Abudah came; But first this random shaft had reach'd my breast.
Life's mingled scene is o'er 'tis thus that Heaven
At once chastises, and, I hope, accepts me.
Eud. What shall I say to thee, to give thee comfort?
Pho. Say only thou forgiv'st me O, Eudocia!
No longer now my dazzled eyes behold thee
Eud. Look down, look down,
Eutn. Tis not too late, we hope, to give thee help. Seel yonder is my tent: we'll lead thee thither; Come, enter there, and let thy wound be dress'd. Perhaps it is not mortal.
Pho. No, not mortal?
For know soon as this pointed steel's drawn ou t,
Life follows thro'the wound.
Eud. What dost thou say?
Pho. No more—death is now painful!
Eum. Constantinople is my last retreat,
Eud. There will I dedicate myself to Heaven.
Pho. [Plucking out the Arrow.] Then all is done— 'twas the last pang—at length— I've given up thee, and the world now is—nothing.
Eurn. O Phocyas! Phocyas!