ARTAXERXES:
Ye solid pillars of the Persian Empire
Behold me, fated to sustain the cares
Of my paternal throne, and much I'm griev'd
That my lov'd father's death so heavy lies
Upon my absent friend but since Arbaces
Denies the accusation, let the father
Whose virtues have endear'd him to our favour
Be the son's judge to cast him or acquit him
In him is vested all our regal pow'r

MANDANE:
In him? Does friendship so prevail o'er duty?

ARTAXERXES:
Not so, Mandane, for his loyal father
Has double reason for severity
I ought to vindicate the death of Xerxes
But if Arbaces be the criminal
His father with more rigour will revenge
His monarch's death, and his own public shame

ARTABANES:
Ah, Sir, what trial?

ARTAXERXES:
Worthy of thy virtue
If any think me partial, let him speak

RIMENES:
This silence is a gen'ral approbation

SEMIRA:
My brother comes

MANDANE:
Ah me!

ARTAXERXES:
Give me your attention
(He ascends the throne the Grandees sit)

MANDANE:
(Now prudence guide the reins of my affection
Cease, busy heart, to flutter in my breast)

(Enter ARBACES in chains, guarded)

ARBACES:
Am I so much the hatred of all Persia
That it unites to witness my misfortune?
My Sovereign!

ARTAXERXES:
O Arbaces, call me friend
For till thy crime is prov'd, that title's thine
But as a name so tender ill becomes
The impartial judge, thy most unhappy cause
I have assign'd to worthy Artabanes

ARBACES:
My father judge?

ARTAXERXES:
Yes, he.

ARBACES:
I'm chill'd with horror

ARTABANES:
Arbaces, in this presence thou appear'st
To be the murderer of royal Xerxes
The circumstances urg'd are these
That thou hast entertain'd presumptuous love
Of this most honour'd Princess
For which, by Xerxes banish'd from the Court
You sought revenge, and found it in his death

ARBACES:
Nay more: the bloody sword, the time, the place
And flight, conspire to fix the guilt on me
And yet my heart is free I'm innocent

ARTABANES:
Demonstrate that, and so appease the wrath
Of this offended Princess

MANDANE:
Whether he plead or not
He equally is guilty. Where is justice?
Is this the father that should vindicate
His murder'd King, and his own public shame?

ARBACES:
Cruel Mandane, does thy voice condemn me?

MANDANE:
(Bear up, my heart)

ARTABANES:
Your just resentment, Princess
Spurs on my lazy virtue
Let Persia then, in Artabanes' rigour
Record his justice, and his loyalty
My son I here condemn... (He signs.) Arbaces dies

MANDANE:
Oh Gods!

ARTAXERXES:
Suspend a while this rash decree

ARTABANES:
'Tis sign'd, my Liege... I have fulfill'd my duty

ARTAXERXES:
Unnatural sentence!

SEMIRA:
O inhuman father!

MANDANE:
Alas, my tears betray me

ARBACES:
Weeps Mandane
In pity of my cruel destiny?

MANDANE:
Pleasure may start a tear, as well as grief

ARTABANES:
Now I have finish'd the stern judge's part
Permit, O King, the feelings of a father
Pardon, my son, the effect of tyrant duty
Suffer with patience, and remember this
The worst of ev'ry evil is the fear

ARBACES:
My patience, Sir, at last begins to leave me
Barbarous Father... (Ah, I lose myself!)... Adieu. (Going)

ARTABANES:
(I freeze)

MANDANE:
I die.

ARBACES:
Stay, rash Arbaces! (Returning)
Where would'st thou go?
Ah, Sir, forgive your son
Behold me at your feet.
Excuse the transports of my frantic grief
Shed all my blood, 'tis yours I'll not complain
But kiss the honour'd hand that sign'd my death

ARTABANES:
Enough, arise...
Thou hast but too much reason to lament
But know... (O Gods!)... take one last embrace, and part