Lysias.
Arm, arm, my Lord!—
Vardanes.
Damnation! why this interruption now?—
Lysias.
Oh! arm! my noble Prince, the foe's upon us.
Arsaces, by Barzaphernes releas'd,
Join'd with the citizens, assaults the Palace,
And swears revenge for Artabanus' death.
Vardanes.
Ha! what? revenge for Artabanus' death?—
'Tis the curse of Princes that their counsels,
Which should be kept like holy mysteries,
Can never rest in silent secrecy.
Fond of employ, some cursed tattling tongue
Will still divulge them.
Lysias.
Sure some fiend from hell,
In mischief eminent, to cross our views,
Has giv'n th' intelligence, for man could not.