_ Even so, 270
My warlike priest, and precious prophet, and
Grateful and trusty subject: yield, I pray thee.
My warlike priest, and precious prophet, and
Grateful and trusty subject: yield, I pray thee.
Byron
_Arb. _ Set on, we have them in the toil. Charge!
charge!
_Bel. _ On! on! --Heaven fights for us, and with us--On!
[_They charge the King and_ SALEMENES _with their troops,
who defend themselves till the arrival of_
ZAMES _with the Guard before mentioned.
The Rebels are then driven off, and pursued by_
SALEMENES, _etc. As the King is going to join the
pursuit,_ BELESES _crosses him_.
_Bel. _ Ho! tyrant--_I_ will end this war.
_Sar.
_ Even so, 270
My warlike priest, and precious prophet, and
Grateful and trusty subject: yield, I pray thee.
I would reserve thee for a fitter doom,
Rather than dip my hands in holy blood.
_Bel. _ Thine hour is come.
_Sar. _ No, thine. --I've lately read,
Though but a young astrologer, the stars;
And ranging round the zodiac, found thy fate
In the sign of the Scorpion, which proclaims
That thou wilt now be crushed.
_Bel. _ But not by thee.
[_They fight;_ BELESES _is wounded and disarmed_.
_Sar. _ (_raising his sword to despatch him, exclaims_)--
Now call upon thy planets, will they shoot 280
From the sky to preserve their seer and credit?
[_A party of Rebels enter and rescue_ BELESES.
_They assail the King, who in turn, is
rescued by a Party of his Soldiers, who drive
the Rebels off_.
The villain was a prophet after all.
Upon them--ho!