ves me to compassion.
O! 'tis a heav'nly virtue when the heart
Can feel the sorrows of another's bosom,
It dignifies the man: The stupid wretch
Who knows not this sensation, is an image,
And wants the feeling to make up a life--
I'll in, and give my aid to sooth his sorrows.

SCENE IV.

_VARDANES and LYSIAS._

LYSIAS.

Let us observe with care, something we, yet,
May gather, to give to us the vantage;
No matter what's the intent.

VARDANES.

How easy 'tis
To cheat this busy, tattling, censuring world!
For fame still names our actions, good or bad,
As introduc'd by chance, which ofttimes throws
Wrong lights on objects; vice she dresses up--
In the bright form, and goodliness, of virtue,
While virtue languishes, and pines neglected,
Rob'd of her lustre--But, let's forward, Lysias--
Thou know'st each turn in this thy dreary rule,
Then lead me to some secret stand, from whence,
Unnotic'd, all their actions we may view.

LYSIAS.

Here, take your stand behind--See, Bethas comes.

[_They retire._

SCENE V.

BETHAS [_alone_].

To think on Death in gloomy solitude,
In dungeons and in chains, when expectation
Join'd with serious thought describe him to us,
His height'n'd terrors strike upon the soul
With awful dread; imagination rais'd
To frenzy, plunges in a sea of horror,
And tastes the pains, the agonies of dying--
Ha! who is this, perhaps he bears my fate?
It must be so, but, why this privacy?

SCENE VI.

_ARSACES and BETHAS._

ARSACES.

Health to the noble Bethas, health and joy!

BETHAS.

A steady harden'd villain, one experienc'd
In his employment; ha! where's thy dagger?
It cannot give me fear; I'm ready, see,
My op'ning bosom tempts the friendly steel.
Fain would I cast this tiresome being off,
Like an old garment worn to wretchedness.
Here, strike for I'm prepar'd.

ARSACES.

Oh! view me better,
Say, do I wear the gloomy ruffian's frown?

BETHAS.

Ha! 'tis the gallant Prince, the brave Arsaces,
And Bethas' Conqueror.

ARSACES.

And Bethas' friend,
A name I'm proud to wear.

BETHAS.

Away--away--
Mock with your jester to divert the court,
Fit Scene for sportive joys and frolic mirth;
Think'st thou I lack that manly constancy
Which braves misfortune, and remains unshaken?
Are these, are these the emb