514 ZF.NOBIA. 



But now I trust to thee my all — fame, love. 

 Empire, and life. * * * 

 Arsaces (to the Purthians). Let every lance's point 



Carry a death 

 Zenob. The word — my city's sign — 



The " Palm " — Palmyra's palm of victory ! 

 Dpjoces. Ill omen'd sign of martyrdom and death ! 

 Arsaces. On! The best omen is a warrior's arm. [Exeunt.] 



Scene IV. — The fords of the Euphrates at Zelehi. Zenobia on a bank beucath 

 a clump of palms, mounded. T>ejoces dyini/ at her feet. Arsaces aiidTx- 

 MARA bending over her ; D\tis leanihy on her spear. Solyma and Tirza 

 h-aitiny in desponding attitudes. 



Tamara. How fares it with my sister ? 



Arsaces. Oh Zenobia ! 



I c'are not ask thy state. 

 Zenob. I die, oh sister ! 



Dear maid, I die. This arrow drinks my blood. 



A mist is o'er my eyes, and soon this scene 



Will close for ever. Hark ! what groan was that ? 



Where is Arsaces ? Has he 'scaped ? I deeiu'd 



Amidst my agony another shaft 



Struck him. That groan confirms it. 

 Arsaces. Oh my queen ! 



Grief suffocates my words. 

 Dejoces. The groan was mine. 



I die, and happy, at my sovereign's foot. (Dies.) 



Zenub. Nothing I see. Is this thy hand, Arsaces ? 

 Arsaces. It is, my only life ! thy hand. 

 Zenob. Oh! fly 



To Sapor. In Aurelian put no trust. 



In Romans trust not. Phlegethon will bear ye 



In safety through yon tide. Support me, sister, 



A little space. This ring of Odenathus 



To Sapor, prince, convey. He knows its meaning. 



Be his the empire. Quick: thy ataghan. 



Life ebbs apace ; and yet I would say much 



To thee, thou best and dearest of mankind. 



(Cutting off a lock of her hair.) 



This, with the jewels to it, is for thee. 



In memory of the dead Zenobia — 



Nay, deem me so. Thy flight is my last hope. 



Sister, a word. ' (They whisper.) 



Remember and be secret. 



See that my poor remains lack not the rites 



Our .'ewish faith and Jewish lineage claim. 



And now I die reliev'd. Farewell, O sun ! 



City of Palms, thou art my dying thought. 



Oh desert Queen ! a widow now, indeed ! 



Who now, when I am dust, from dust shall raise thee ? 



Thou fall'st with my fall. The glorious visions 



Of thy arcades, fanes, colonnades, and arcs 



Of triumph, vanish from me like a dream ; 



And I and thou are nothing. (Dies.) 



[Arsaces, dragged away by the Parthians, exit resistinglj/ and distractedly. 

 Tamara falls on the body.] 



Tamara. Oh day-star of the earth ! thou'rt set indeed ! 



Leaving us darkness. Would that I could follow 



Thee in thy sunset. But my task remains. 



