Officer.
Yea, and would lead all traitors gladly thus,—
The boon of their deserts.
Scene IX.
Arsaces, Vardanes, Barzaphernes.
Arsaces.
But for Vardanes,
The Brother's name forgot—
Vardanes.
You need no more,
I know the rest—Ah! death is near, my wounds
Permit me not to live—my breath grows short,
Curs'd be Phraates' arm which stop'd my sword,
Ere it had reach'd thy proud exulting heart.
But the wretch paid dear for his presuming;
A just reward.—
Arsaces.
He sinks, yet bear him up—