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The surest way to shun her: and give time For this discovering trial?Heaven! she's here!

Enter ZARA.

So, Madam! fortune will befriend my cause,
And free me from your fetters.-You are met
Most aptly, to dispel a new-risen doubt,
That claims the finest of your arts to gloss it.
Unhappy each by other, it is time
To end our mutual pain, that both may rest:
You want not generosity, but love;
My pride forgotten, my obtr ded throne,
My favours, cares, respect, and tenderness,
Touching your gratitude, provok'd regard;
"Till, by a length of benefits besieg'd,
Your heart submitted, and you thought 'twas

love:

But you deceiv'd yourself, and injur'd me.
There is, I'm told, an object more deserving
Your love than Osman-I would know his

name:

Be just, nor trifle with my anger: tell me
Now, while expiring pity struggles faint;
While I have yet, perhaps, the power to pardon:
Give up the bold invader of my claim,

And let him die to save thee. Thou art known; Think and resolve-While I yet speak, renounce him;

While yet the thunder rolls suspended, stay it;
Let thy voice charm me, and recall my soul,
That turns averse, and dwells no more on Zara.
Zar. Can it be Osman speaks, and speaks to
Zara ?

Learn, cruel! learn, that this afflicted heart,
This heart which Heaven delights to prove by

tortures,

Did it not love, has pride and power to shun you.
Alas! you will not know me! What have I
To fear, but that unhappy love you question?
That love which only could outweigh the shame
I feel, while I descend to weep my wrongs.
I know not whether Heaven, that frowns upon

me,

Has destin'd my unhappy days for yours;
But, be my fate or bless'd or curs'd, I swear
By honour, dearer even than life or love,
Could Zara be but mistress of herself,
She would with cold regard look down on kings,
And, you alone excepted, fly 'em all.

Would you learn more, and open all my heart?
Know then, that, spite of this renew'd injustice,
I do not-cannot wish to love you less:

That, long before you look'd so low as Zara,
She gave her heart to Osman; yours, before
Your benefits had bought her, or your eye
Had thrown distinction round her; never had,
Nor ever will acknowledge other lover:
And to this sacred truth attesting Heaven,
I call thy dreadful notice! If my heart
Deserves reproach; 'tis for, but not from Osman?
Osm. What does she yet presume to swear
sincerity!

Oh, boldness of unblushing perjury!
Had I not seen; had I not read such proof
Of her light falsehood as extinguish'd doubt,
I could not be a man, and not believe her.
Zar. Alas, my lord! what cruel fears have
seiz'd you?
What harsh, mysterious words were those I
heard?

Osm. What fears should Osman feel, sinc Zara loves him?

Zar. I cannot live and answer to your voice In that reproachful tone; your angry eve Trembles with fury while you talk of love Osm. Since Zara loves him! Zar. Is it possible

Osman should disbelieve it ?-Again, again Your late-repented violence returnsAlas! what killing frowns you dart against me! Can it be kind? Can it be just to doubt me? Osm. No! I can doubt no longer-you may retire. [Exit ZARA,

Re-enter ORASMIN. Orasmin, she's perfidious, even beyond Her sex's undiscover'd power of seeming; She's at the topmost point of shameless artifice; An empress at deceiving! Soft and easy, Destroying like a plague, in calm tranquillity: She's innocent she swears-so is the fire; It shines in harmless distance, bright and pleas

ing,

Consuming nothing till it first embraces.
Say, hast thou chosen a slave ?-Is he instructed?
Haste to detect her vileness and my wrongs.

Oras. Punctual I have obey'd your whole com

mand;

But have you arm'd, my lord, your injur’d heart, With coldness and indifference? Can you hear, All painless and unmov'd, the false one's shame ? Osm. Orasmin, I adore her more than ever. Oras. My lord! my emperor! forbid it, Hea ven!

Osm. I have discern'd a gleam of distant hope, This hateful Christian, the light growth of France, Proud, young, vain, amorous, conceited, rash, Has misconceiv'd some charitable glance, And judg'd it love in Zara: he alone, Then, has offended me. Is it her fault, If those she charms are indiscreet and daring? Zara, perhaps, expected not this letter; And I, with rashness groundless as its writer's, Took fire at my own fancy, and have wrong'd her. Now hear me with attention-Soon as night Has thrown her welcome shadows o'er the palace;

When this Nerestan, this ungrateful Christian, Shall lurk in expectation near our walls,

Be watchful that our guards surprise and seiza him;

Then, bound in fetters, and o'erwhelmed with shame,

Conduct the daring traitor to my presence:-
But, above all, be sure you hurt not Zara;
Mindful to what supreme excess I love.

[Exit ORAS.

On this last trial all my hopes depend;
Prophet, for once thy kind assistance lend,
Dispel the doubts that rack my anxious breast,
If Zara's innocent, thy Osman 's bless'd. [Erit.

ACT V.

SCENE I-ZARA and SELIMA.

Zara. Sooth me no longer with this vain desire: To a recluse like me, who dares, henceforth, Presume admission?- -the seraglio's shutBarr'd and impassable—as death to time! My brother ne'er must hope to see me more :How now! what unknown slave accosts us here ?

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For I would gladly hear my brother's voice.

Sel. Say rather you would hear the voice of Heaven.

"Tis not your brother calls you, but your God.
Zar. I know it, nor resist his awful will;
Thou know'st that I have bound my soul by oath;
But can I-ought I-to engage myself,
My brother, and the Christians, in this danger?
Sel. 'Tis not their danger that alarms your
fears;

Your love speaks loudest to your shrinking soul;
I know your heart of strength to hazard all,
But it has let in traitors, who surrender
On poor pretence of safety:-Learn at least,
To understand the weakness that deceives you:
You tremble to offend your haughty lover,
Whom wrongs and outrage but endear the more;
Yes-you are blind to Osman's cruel nature;
That Tartar's fierceness, that obscures his boun-

ties;

This tiger, savage in his tenderness,
Courts with contempt, and threatens amidst soft-

ness;

Yet, cannot your neglected heart efface His fated, fix'd impression!

Zar. What reproach

Can I with justice make him?I, indeed,
Have given him cause to hate me !

Was not his throne, was not his temple ready?
Did he not court his slave to be a queen,
And have not I declin'd it ?—I who ought
To tremble, conscious of affronted power!
Have I not triumph'd o'er his pride and love?
Seen him submit his own high will to mine,
And sacrifice his wishes to my weakness?

Sel. Talk we no more of this unhappy passion: What resolution will your virtue take?

Zar. All things combine to sink me to despair: From the seraglio death alone will free me. I long to see the Christians' happy climes; Yet in the moment, while I form that prayer, 1 sigh a secret wish to languish here. How sad a state is mine! my restless soul All ignorant what to do, or what to wish: My only perfect sense is that of pain. Oh, guardian Heaven! protect my brother's life, For I will meet him, and fulfil his prayer: Then, when from Solyma's unfriendly walls, His absence shall unbind his sister's tongue, Osman shall learn the secret of my birth, My faith, unshaken, and my deathless love; He will approve my choice, and pity me. I'll send my brother word he may expect me. Call in the faithful slave-God of my fathers! (Exit SELIMA. Let thy hand save me, and thy will direct.

What answer gave she to the letter sent her? Mel. She blush'd and trembled, and grew pale,

and paus'd,

Then blush'd, and read it; and again grew pale;
And wept, and smil'd, and doubted, and resolv'd:
For after all this race of varied passions,
When she had sent me out, and call'd me back,
Tell him (she cried) who has intrusted thee,
That Zara's heart is fix'd, nor shrinks at danger;
And that my faithful friend will, at the hour,
Expect, and introduce him to his wish.

more

Ösm. Enough-begone-I have no ear for [To the slave. Leave me, thou too, Orasmin.-Leave me, life, [TO ORASMIN. For every mortal aspect moves my hate: Leave me to my distraction- -I And cannot bear the visage of a friend. grow mad, Leave me to rage, despair, and shame, and wrongs; Leave me to seek myself and shun mankind. [Exit ORASMIN.

Who am I?-Heaven! Who am I? What resolve I?

Zara! Nerestan! sound these words like names
Decreed to join? Why pause 1?-Perish Zara-
Would I could tear her image from my heart:
'Twere happier not to live at all, than live
Her scorn, the sport of an ungrateful false one!
And sink the sovereign in a woman's property.

Re-enter ORASMIN.

Orasmin!-friend! return, I cannot bear This absence from thy reason: 'twas unkind, "Twas cruel to obey me, thus distress'd, And wanting power to think, when I had lost thee.

How goes the hour? Has he appear'd, this rival? Perish the shameful sound-this villain Christian!

Has he appear'd below?

Oras. Silent and dark,

Th' unbreathing world is hush'd, as if it heard, And listen'd to your sorrows.

Osm. Oh, treacherous night!

Thou lend'st thy ready veil to every treason,
And teeming mischiefs thrive beneath thy shade
Orasmin, prophet, reason, truth and love!
After such length of benefits, to wrong me!
How have I overrated, how mistaken,
The merit of her beauty!-Did I not
Forget I was a monarch? Did I remember
That Zara was a slave?I gave up all,
Gave up tranquillity, distinction, pride,
And fell the shameful victim of my love!
Oras. Sir, Sovereign, Sultan, my Imperial
Master!

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Osm. Again!-look out-he comes

Zar. O gracious Heaven! receive my parting soul,

And take thy trembling servant to thy mercy[Dies.

Osm. Soul! then revenge has reach'd thee-I will now

Haste from this fatal place-I cannot leave her!

Oras. Nor tread of mortal foot-nor voice I Whom did I strike? Was this the act of love?

hear:

The still seraglio lies, profoundly plung'd
In death-like silence! nothing stirs.-The air
Is soft as infant sleep; no breathing wing
Steals through the shadows to awaken night.
Osm. Horrors, a thousand times more dark
than these,

Benight my suffering soul-Thou dost not know
To what excess of tenderness I lov'd her:

I knew no happiness but what she gave me,
Nor could have felt a misery but for her!
Pity this weakness-mine are tears, Orasmin,
That fall not oft, nor lightly.-

Oras. Tears!-Oh, Heaven!

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Thou who, in gratitude for freedom gain'd, Hast given me miseries beyond thy own!

Osm. The first which ever yet unmann'd my Thou heart of hero with a traitor's soul!

eyes!

Oh! pity Zara-pity me-Orasmin,

These but forerun the tears of destin'd blood.

Oras. Oh, my unhappy lord!—I tremble for

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Enter ZARA and SELIMA, in the dark.

Zar. Where art thou, Selima? Give me thy hand.

It is so dark, I tremble as I step,

With fears and startings, never felt till now! Osm. Damnation! 'tis her voice! the well known sound,

That has so often charm'd me into baseness!
Oh, the perfidious hypocrite!she goes
To meet th' inviting infidel!—now, now,
[Drawing a dagger.
Revenge, stand firm, and intercept his wishes;
Revenge? on whom ?-no matter-earth and
Heaven

Would blush, should I forbear: now-Zara, now! [Drops the dagger. I must not, cannot strike; the starting steel, Unwilling, flies my hand, and shuns to wound her.

Zar. This is the private path-come nearer; lead me

Are we not noticed, think'st thou !

Sel Fear not, Madam;

It cannot now be long, ere we shall meet him. Osm. That word has given me back my ebbing rage[Recovers the dagger. Lar. I walk in terror, and my heart forebodes. Who's there!-Nerestan! Is it you?-O wel

come.

Osm. [Stabbing her.] This to thy heart-'Tis not the traitor meets thee; Tis the betray'd-who writes it in thy blood.

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She was my sister-All that now is left thee,
Despatch- -From my distracted heart drain next
The remnant of the royal Christian blood:
Old Lusignan, expiring in my arms,
Sent his too wretched son, with his last blessing,
To his now murder'd daughter!-

Would I had seen the bleeding innocent!
I would have liv'd to speak to her in death!
Would have awaken'd in her languid heart,
A livelier sense of her abandon'd God:
That God, who left by her, forsook her too,
And gave the poor lost sufferer to thy rage.

Osm. Thy sister!-Lusignan her father!-
Selima,

Can this be true?-and have I wrong'd thee, Zara?

Sel. Thy love was all the cloud 'twixt her and Heaven!

Osm. Be dumb-for thou art base, to add distraction

To my already more than bleeding heart.
And was thy love sincere ?-What then remains?

Ner. Why should a tyrant hesitate on murder?
There now remains but mine, of all the blood
Which, through thy father's cruel reign and thine,
Has never ceas'd to stream on Syria's sands.
Restore a wretch to his unhappy race;
Nor hope that torments, after such a scene,
Can force one feeble groan to feast thy anger.
I waste my fruitless words in empty air;
The tyrant o'er the bleeding wound he made,
Hangs his unmoving eye, and heeds not me.

Osm. Oh, Zara!

Oras. Alas, my lord, return-whither would grief Transport your generous heart?- This Christian dog

Osm. Take off his fetters, and observe my will: To him, and all his friends, give instant liberty: Pour a profusion of the richest gifts

On these unhappy Christians; and when heap'd
With varied benefits, and charg'd with riches,
Give 'em safe conduct to the nearest port.
Oras. But, Sir-

Osm. Reply not, but obey.

Fly-nor dispute thy master's last command, Thy prince, who orders-and thy friend, who loves thee!

Go-lose no time-farewell-begone-and thou!
Unhappy warrior!-yet less lost than I

Haste from our bloody land-and to thy own,
Convey this poor, pale object of my rage.
Thy king and all his Christians, when they hear
Thy miseries, shall mourn 'em with their tears;
But, if thou tell'st 'em mine, and tell'st 'em truly,
They who shall hate my crime, shall pity me.
Take, too, this poignard with thee, which my hand
Has stain'd with blood far dearer than my own;
Tell 'em-with this I murder'd her I lov'd;
T'he noblest and most virtuous among women!
The soul of innocence, and pride of truth:
Tell 'em, I laid my empire at her feet:
Tell 'em, I plung'd my dagger in her blood;
Tell 'em, I so ador'd-and thus reveng'd her.
[Stabs himself.
Reverence this hero-and conduct him safe.

[Dies. Ner. Direct me, great inspirer of the soul! How should I act, how judge in this distress? Amazing grandeur, and detested rage? Even I, amidst my tears, admire this foe, And mourn his death, who liv'd to give me wo. [Exeunt omnes.

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First, then-A woman will, or wont-depend

on't:

If she will do't, she will:-and there's an end on't.

But, if she wont-since safe and sound your trust is,

Fear is affront; and jealousy injustice.

Next, he who bids his dear do what she pleases, Blunts wedlock's edge, and all its torture eases : For-not to feel your sufferings is the same, As not to suffer:-All the difference-name.

Thirdly, the jealous husband wrongs his honour;

No wife goes lame, without some hurt upon her: And the malicious world will still be guessing, Who oft dines out dislikes her own cook's dressing.

Fourth, and lastly,-to conclude my lecture, If you would fix th' inconstant wife-respect her. She who perceives her virtues overrated, Will fear to have the account more justly stated: And borrowing, from her pride, the good wife's seeming,

Grow really such-to merit your esteeming.

A

COMIC CHORUS;

OR,
INTERLUDES,

DESIGNED TO BE SUNG BETWEEN THE ACTS OF

ZARA.

PROLOGUE.

By MR. BEARD and MRS. CLIVE, from opposite Entrances.

She. So, Sir-you're a man of your word. He. Who would break it, when summon'd by you?

He.

She. Very fine that--but pray have you heard,
What it is you are summon'd to do?
Not a word-but expected to see
Something new in the musical way.
She. Why, this author has cast you and me,
As a Prologue, it seems, to his play.
He. What then is its tuneful name,

Robinhood of the Greenwood tree?
Or what good old ballad of fame
Has he built into tra-ge-dy?
She. Though he rails against songs, he thought
fit,

Most gravely to urge and implore us,
In aid of his tragical wit,

To erect ourselves into a Chorus.
[Laughing

He. A Chorus ! what's that-a composing

Of groans to the rants of his madness? She. No-he hinders the boxes from dozing, By mixing some spirit with sadness. He. So then 'tis our task I suppose,

To sing sober sense into relish;
Strike up, at each tragical close,
And unheeded moral embellish.

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[Merrily.

Let me dwindle to recitative !
He. Nor will I to the belles be more nice,

When I catch 'em but here, to receive. She. If there's ought to be learn'd from the play, I shall sit in a nook, here, behind, Popping out in the good ancient way, Now and then, with a piece of my mind. He. But suppose that no moral should rise, Worth the ears of the brave or the fair! She. Why, we'll then give the word—and ad

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AFTER THE SECOND ACT.

MRS. CLIVE (sola) to a Flute.
I.

OH, jealousy, thou bane of bleeding love!
Ah, how unhappy we!

Doom'd by the partial powers above,
Eternal slaves to thee!

Not more unstaid than lovers' hearts the wind!
This moment dying-and the next unkind.
Ah! wavering, weak desires of frail mankind!
With pleading passion ever to pursue,
Yet triumph, only to undo.

II.

Go to the deeps below, thou joyless fiend,
Nor you, ye heedless fair, occasions lend,
And never rise again to sow despair!

To blast your blooming hopes, and bring on cart. Never conclude your innocence secure,

Prudence alone makes love endure.

[As she is going off, he meets her, and puds her back, detaining her while he sings what follows.

He. Ever, ever, doubt the fair in sorrow, Mourning as if they felt compassion: Yet what they weep for to-day-to-morrow,

They'll be first to laugh into fashion. None are betray'd if they trust not the charmer; Jealousy guards the weak from falling; Would you never catch-you must often alarm her:

Hearts to deceive is a woman's calling.

[After the song, he lets her go, and they join in a duet.

She. Come, let us be friends, and no longer

abuse,

Condemn and accuse, Each other.

He. Would you have us agree, you must fairly confess,

He.

The love we caress,
We smother.

She. I am loath to think that-
Yet, you know, it is true;
Well-what if I do,

She.

No matter.

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AFTER THE THIRD ACT.

By MR. BEARD alone.

MARK, oh ye beauties!-gay and young, Mark the painful woes and weeping, That from forc'd concealment sprung,

Punish the sin of secret-keeping.

Tell then, nor veil a willing heart,
When the lover, lov'd alarms it

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