Parthian and Tartarian Soldiers.-Mutes belonging to Bajazet.-Other Attendants.
SCENE.-Tamerlane's Camp, near Angoria in Galatia.
Or all the muse's various labours, none Have lasted longer or have higher flown, Than those that tell the frame by ancient heroes
With pleasure, Rome and great Augustus heard Arms and the man sung by the Mantuan bard. In spite of time the sacred story lives, And Cæsar and his empire still survives. Like him (though much unequal to his flame) Our author makes a pious prince his theme. High with the foremost names, in arms he stood, Had fought, and suffer'd for his country's good, Yet sought not fame, but peace, in fields of blood.
Safe under him his happy people sat,
And griev'd, at distance, for their neighbours'
Whilst with success a Turkish monarch crown'd, Like spreading flame, deform'd the nations round; With sword and fire he forc'd his impious way To lawless power and universal sway. Some abject states, for fear, the tyrant join, Others for gold their liberties resign, And venal princes sold their right divine: Till Heaven, the growing evil to redress, Sent Tamerlane to give the world a peace. The hero rous'd, asserts the glorious cause, And to the field the cheerful soldier draws. Around, in crowds, his valiant leaders wait, Anxious for glory and secure of fate; Well pleas'd, once more, to venture on his side, And prove that faith again, which had so oft been tried.
The peaceful fathers, who in senates meet, Approve an enterprise so just, and great; While with their prince's arms their voice thu join'd,
Gains half the praise of having sav'd mankind.
Even in a circle, where, like this, the fair Were met, the bright assembly did declare, Their house, with one consent, were for the war;
Each urg'd her lover to unsheath the sword, And never spare a man who broke his word. Thus fir'd, the brave on to the danger press; Their arms were crown'd abroad with just suo-
SCENE I-Before TAMERLANE'S Tent. Enter the PRINCE of TANAIS, Zama, and MIRVAN.
Pr. Hail to the sun from whose returning light
The cheerful soldier's arms new lustre take To deck the pomp of battle. Oh, my friends! Was ever such a glorious face of war? See, from this height, how all Galatia's plains With nations numberless are cover'd o'er; Who, like a deluge, hide the face of earth, And leave no object in the vast horizon, But glittering arms, and skies.
Zam. Our Asian work, From this important day expects a lord; This day they hope an end of all their woes, Of tyranny, of bondage and oppression, From our victorious emp'ror, Tamerlane.
Mir. Well has our holy Alha mark'd him out, The scourge of lawless pride and dire ambition, The great avenger of the groaning world. Well has he worn the sacred cause of justice Upon his prosperous sword. Approving Heaven Still crown'd the righteous warrior with success; As if it said, Go forth, and be my champion, Thou most like me of all my works below.
Pr. No lust of rule, the common vice of kings,
No furious zeal, inspir'd by hot-brain'd priests, Ill hid beneath religion's specious name,
E'er drew his temperate courage to the field: But to redress an injur'd people's wrongs, To save the weak one from the strong oppressor, Is all his end of war. And when he draws The sword to punish, like relenting Heaven, He seems unwilling to deface his kind.
Mir. So rich his soul in every virtuous grace, That, had not nature made him great by birth, Yet all the brave had sought him for their friend.
The Christian prince, Axalla, nicely bred In polish'd arts of European courts, For him forsakes his native Italy, And lives a happy exile in his service.
Pr. Pleas'd with the gentle manners of that prince,.
Our mighty lord is lavish to his friendship; Though Omar and the Tartar lords repine, And loudly tax their monarch as too partial. Zam. Ére the mid-hour of night, from tent
Unwearied, through the numerous host he past, Viewing with careful eyes each several quarter; Whilst from his looks, as from divinity,
The soldiers took presage, and cried, Lead on, Great Alla, and our emperor, lead on, To victory, and everlasting fame. Mir. Hear you of Bajazet ?
Pr. Late in the evening,
A slave of near attendance on his person 'Scap'd to our camp. From him we learn'd, the tyrant,
With rage redoubled, for the fight prepares; Some accidential passion fires his breast, (Love, as 'tis thought, for a fair Grecian cap- tive,)
And adds new horror to his native fury. For five returning suns, scarce was he seen By any, the most favour'd of his court, But in lascivious ease, among his women, Liv'd from the war retir'd; or else alone, In sullen mood, sat meditating plagues And ruin to the world; 'till yester morn, Like fire that lab'ring upwards rends the earth, He burst with fury from his tent, commanding All should be ready for the fight this day.
Zam. I know his temper well, since in his court, Companion of the brave Axalla's embassy, I oft observ'd him proud, impatient
Of aught superior, even of Heaven that made him;
Fond of false glory of the savage power Of ruling without reasor., of confounding Just and unjust, by an unbounded will; By whom religion, honour, all the bands
That ought to hold the jarring world at peace Were held the tricks of state, snares of wise princes,
To draw their easy neighbours to destruction. Mir. Thrice, by our law and prophet, has he
By the world's Lord and Maker, lasting peace, With our great master, and his royal friend The Grecian emperor; as oft, regardless Of plighted faith, with most unkingly baseness, Has ta'en the advantage of their absent arms, Without a war proclaim'd, or cause pretended, To waste with sword and fire their fruitful fields; Like some accursed fiend, who, 'scap'd from hell, Poisons the balmy air through which he flies, He blasts the bearded corn, and loaded branches, The lab'ring hind's best hopes, and marks his way with ruin.
Pr. But see his fate! The mighty Tamerlane Comes, like the proxy of inquiring Heaven, To judge and to redress. [Flourish of trumpets.
Enter TAMERLANE, Guards, and other Attendants.
Tam. Yet, yet a little, and destructive slaughter Shall range around, and mar this beauteous
Pass but an hour, which stands betwixt the lives Of thousands and eternity, what change Shall hasty death make in yon glittering plain, Oh, thou fell monster, war! that in a moment Lay'st waste the noblest part of the creation, The boast and master-piece of the great Maker That wears in vain th' impression of his image, Unprivileg'd from thee.
Health to our friends, and to our arms success,
[To the PRINCE, ZAMA, and MIRVAN. Such as the cause for which we fight deserves! Pr. Nor can we ask beyond what Heaven be stows, Preventing still our wishes. See, great Sir, The universal joy your soldiers wear, Omen of prosperous battle.
Impatient of the tedious night, in arms Watchful they stood, expecting opening day; And now are hardly by their leaders held From darting on the foe. Like a hot courser, That bounding paws the mouldering soil, dis daining
The rein that checks him, eager for the race.
Tam. Yes, prince, I mean to give a loose to war. This morn Axalla, with my Parthian horse, Arrives to join me. He, who, like a storm, Swept, with his flying squadrons, all the plain Between Angoria's walls and yon tall mountains, That seem to reach the clouds; and now he comes, Loaden with spoils and conquest, to my aid. [Flourish of trumpets. Zam. These trumpets speak his presence
Enter AXALLA, who kneels to TAMERLANE. Tam. Welcome! thou worthy partner of my
Thou brother of my choice, a band more sacred Than nature's brittle tie. By holy friendship! Glory and Fame stood still for thy arrival; My soul seem'd wanting in its better half, And languish'd for thy absence; like a prophet, That waits the inspiration of his god.
Az. My emperor! My ever royal master!
To whom my secret soul more lowly bends, Than forms of outward worship can express; How poorly does your soldier pay this goodness, Who wears his every hour of life out for you! Yet, 'tis his all, and what he has he offers; Nor now disdain t' accept the gift he brings,
Enter SELIMA, MONESES, STRATOCLES, Pri- soners; Guards, Mutes, &c. &c.
This earnest of your fortune. See, my lord, The noblest prize that ever grac'd my arms! Approach, my fair-
Tam. This is indeed to conquer, And well to be rewarded for thy conquest; The bloom of opening flowers, unsullied beauty, Softness, and sweetest innocence she wears, And looks like Nature in the world's first spring, But say, Axalla-
Sel. Most renown'd in war,
[Kneeling to TAM. Look with compassion on a captive maid, Though born of hostile blood; nor let my birth, Derived from Bajazet, prevent that mercy, Which every subject of your fortune finds. War is the province of ambitious man, Who tears the miserable world for empire; Whilst our weak sex, incapable of wrong, On either side claims privilege of safety.
Why art thou then a friend to Bajazet ? And why my enemy?
Mon. If human wisdom
Could point out every action of our lives, And say, Let it be thus, in spite of fate Or partial fortune, then I had not been The wretch I am.
Tam. The brave meet every accident With equal minds. Think nobler of thy foes, Than to account thy chance in war an evil.
Mon. Far, far from that: I rather hold it grievous
That I was forc'd even but to seem your enemy; Nor think the baseness of a vanquish'd slave Moves me to flatter for precarious life,
Or ill-bought freedom, when I swear by Heaven!
Tam. [Raising her.] Rise, royal maid! the Were I to choose from all mankind a master,
pride of haughty power
Pays homage, not receives it from the fair. Thy angry father fiercely calls me forth, And urges me unwillingly to arms.
Yet, though our frowning battles menace death And mortal conflict, think not that we hold Thy innocence and virtue as our foe. Here, till the fate of Asia is decided, In safety stay. To-morrow is your own. Nor grieve for who may conquer, or who lose; Fortune on either side shall wait thy wishes. Sel. Where shall my wonder and my praise begin?
From the successful labours of thy arms; Or from a theme more soft, and full of peace, Thy mercy and thy gentleness? Oh, Tamer- lane!
What can I pay thee for this noble usage, But grateful praise? So Heaven itself is paid! Give peace, ye powers above, peace to mankind; Nor let my father wage unequal war Against the force of such united virtues. Tam. Heaven hear thy pious wish!-But since our prospect
Looks darkly on futurity, till fate Determine for us, let thy beauty's safety Be my Axaila's care; in whose glad eyes, I read what joy the pleasing service gives him. Is there amongst thy other pris'ners aught
Worthy our knowledge?
Ar. This brave man, my lord,
[Pointing to MON. With long resistance held the combat doubtful. His party, press'd with numbers, soon grew faint, And would have left their charge an easy prey; Whilst he alone, undaunted at the odds, Though hopeless to escape, fought well and firmly;
Nor yielded till o'ermatch'd by many hands, He seem'd to shame our conquest whilst he own'd it.
It should be Tamerlane.
Tam. A noble freedom
Dwells with the brave, unknown to fawning sycophants,
And claims a privilege of being behev'd.
I take thy praise as earnest of thy friendship. Mon. Still you prevent the homage I should offer,
O, royal Sir! let my misfortunes plead And wipe away the hostile mark I wore.
I was, when not long since my fortune hail'd me, Bless'd to my wish, I was the prince Moneses; Born, and bred up to greatness: witness the blood,
Which through successive heroes' veins, allied To our Greek emperors, roll'd down to me, Feeds the bright flame of glory in my heart.
Tam. Even that, that princely tie should bind thee to me,
If virtue were not more than all alliance.
Mon. I have a sister, oh, severe remembrance! Our noble house's, nay, her sex's pride, Nor think my tongue too lavish, if I speak her Fair as the fame of virtue, and yet chaste As its cold precepts; wise beyond her sex And blooming youth; soft as forgiving mercy, Yet greatly brave, and jealous for her honour: Such as she was, to say I barely lov'd her, Is poor to my soul's meaning. From our in- fancy
There grew a mutual tenderness between us, Till not long since her vows were kindly plighted
To a young lord, the equal of her birth The happy day was fix'd, and now approaching, When faithless Bajazet (upon whose honour, In solemn treaty given, the Greeks depended) With sudden war broke in upon the country, Secure of peace, and for defence unready.
Tan. Let majesty no more be held divine, Since kings, who are call'd gods, profane themselves
Mon. Among the wretches, whom that deluge | The revolution of a day may bring
A way to slavery, myself and sister,
Then passing near the frontiers to the court, (Which waited for her nuptials) were surpris'd, And made the captives of the tyrant's power. Soon as we reach'd his court, we found our usage Beyond what we expected, fair and noble; "Twas then the storm of your victorious arms Look'd black, and seem'd to threaten, when he press'd me
(By oft repeated instances) to draw My sword for him: but when he found my soul Disdain'd his purpose, he more fiercely told me, That my Arpasia, my lov'd sister's fate Depended on my courage shown for him. I had long learn'd to hold myself at nothing; But for her sake, to ward the blow from her, I bound my service to the man I hated. Six days are past, since by the sultan's order, I left the pledge of my return behind, And went to guard this princess to his camp: The rest the brave Axalla's fortune tells you. Tam. Wisely the tyrant strove to prop his cause,
By leaguing with thy virtue; but just Heaven Has torn thee from his side, and left him naked To the avenging bolt that drives upon him. Forget the name of captive, and I wish
I could as well restore that fair one's freedom, Whose loss hangs heavy on thee; yet ere night, Perhaps, we may deserve thy friendship nobler; Th' approaching storm may cast thy shipwreck'd wealth
Back to thy arms: till that be past, since war (Though in the justest cause) is ever doubtful, I will not ask thy sword to aid my victory, Lest it should hurt that hostage of thy valour Our common foe detains.
Bend to his yoke repining slaves by force; You, Sir, have found a nobler way to empire, Lord of the willing world.
Tam. Oh, my Axalla!
Thou hast a tender soul, apt for compassion, And art thyself a lover and a friend. Does not this prince's fortune move thy temper? Ar. Yes, Sir, I mourn the brave Moneses' fate, The merit of his virtue hardly match'd With disadventurous chance: yet, prince, al- low me,
Allow me, from th' experience of a lover, To say, one person, whom your story mention'd (If he survive) is far beyond you wretched: You nam'd the bridegroom of your beauteous
Mon. I did. Oh, most accurs'd! Ar. Think what he feels, Dash'd in the fierceness of his expectation: Then, when th' approaching minute of possession Had wound imagination to the height, Think if he lives!
Mon. He lives, he does: 'tis true
He lives! But how? To be a dog, and dead, Were Paradise to such a state as his : He holds down life, as children do a potion, With strong reluctance and convulsive strug- glings,
Whilst his misfortunes press him to disgorge it. Tam. Spare the remembrance, 'tis a useless grief,
And adds to the misfortune by repeating;
Such turns, as Heaven itself could scarce have
[Exeunt TAMERLANE, MONESES, STRATOCLES, PRINCE of TANAIS, ZAMA, MIRVAN, and Attendants.
Ar. The battle calls, and bids me haste to leave thee;
Oh, Selima!But let destruction wait, Are there not hours enough for blood and slaughter?
This moment shall be love's, and I will waste it In soft complainings, for thy sighs and coldness, For thy forgetful coldness; even at Birza, When in thy father's court my eyes first own'd thee,
Fairer than light, the joy of their beholding, Even then thou wert not thus.
Sel. Art thou not chang'd, Christian Axalla? Art thou still the same Those were the gentle hours of peace, and thou The world's good angel, that didst kindly join Its mighty masters in harmonious friendship: But since those joys that once were ours are lost, Forbear to mention 'em, and talk of war; Talk of thy conquests and my chains, Axalla.
Ar. Yet I will listen, fair, unkind upbraider! Yet I will listen to thy charming accents, Although they make me curse my fame and fortune,
My laurel wreaths, and all the glorious trophies, For which the valiant bleed-Oh, thou unjust one! Dost thou then envy me this small return My niggard fate has made for all the mournings, For all the pains, for all the sleepless nights That cruel absence brings?
I will not hear thy soothing. Is it thus That Christian lovers prove the faith they swear?
Are war and slavery the soft endearments With which they court the beauties they admire ? 'Twas well my heart was cautious of believing Thy vows, and thy protesting. Know, my con[lima,
Thy sword has vanquish'd but the half of Se Her soul disdains thy victory.
Ar. Hear, sweet Heaven!
Hear the fair tyrant, how she wrests love's laws, As she had vow'd my ruin! What is con quest?
What joy have I from that, but to behold thee, To kneel before thee, and with lifted eyes To view thee, as devotion does a saint, With awful, trembling pleasure; then to swear Thou art the queen and mistress of my soul? Has not even Tamerlane (whose word, next Heaven's,
Makes fate at second-hand) bid thee disclaim Thy fears? And dost thou call thyself a slave; Only to try how far the sad impression Can sink into Axalla?
Sel. Oh, Axalla! Ought I to hear you?
Ar. Come back, ye hours,
And tell my Selima what she has done! Bring back the time, when to her father's court I came ambassador of peace from Tamerlane; When, hid by conscious darkness and disguise, I past the dangers of the watchful guards, Bold as the youth who nightly swam the Hel- lespont:
Then, then she was not sworn the foe of love; When, as my soul confess'd its flame, and sued In moving sounds for pity, she frown'd rarely, But, blushing, heard me tell the gentle tale; Nay, even confess'd, and told me softly, sighing, She thought there was no guilt in love like mine. Sel. Young and unskilful in the world's false arts,
I suffer'd love to steal upon my softness, And warm me with a lambent guiltless flame: Yes, I have heard thee swear a thousand times, And call the conscious power of Heaven to
Hate is not in thy nature: thy whole frame Is harmony, without one jarring atom.
Why dost thou force thy eyes to wear this cold- ness?
It damps the springs of life. Oh! bid me die, Much rather bid me die, if it be true That thou hast sworn to hate me.-
Wait the decision of the bloody field; Nor can thy fate, my conqueror, depend Upon a woman's hate. Yet, since you urge A power, which once, perhaps, I had, there is But one request that I can make with honour. Ar. Oh, name it! say!-
Sel. Forego your right of war, And render me this instant to my father.
Ar. Impossible !- -the tumult of the battle, That hastes to join, cuts off all means of com-
Betwixt the armies.
Sel. Swear then to perform it,
The niggard honour that affords not love, Forbids not pity-
Sel. Fate, perhaps, has set
This day, the period of thy life and conquests; And I shall see thee borne at evening back A breathless corse. -Oh! can I think on that, And hide my sorrows;-No-they will have way, And all the vital air that life draws in Is render'd back in sighs.
Ar. The murmuring gale revives the drooping flame,
That at thy coldness languish'd in my breast: So breathe the gentle zephyrs on the spring, And waken every plant and odorous flower, Which winter frost had blasted, to new life.
Sel. To see thee for this moment, and no
Oh! help me to resolve against this tenderness, That charms my fierce resentment, and presents thee
Not as thou art, mine and my father's foe, But as thou wert, when first thy moving accents Won me to hear; when, as I listen'd to thee, The happy hours pass'd by us unperceiv'd, So was my soul fix'd to the soft enchantment. Ar. Let me be still the same; I am, I must be; If it were possible my heart could stray, One look from thee would call it back again, And fix the wanderer for ever thine. Sel. Where is my boasted resolution now? [Sinking into his arms. Oh, yes! thou art the same; my heart joins with thee,
Which way soe'er the chance of war determines, And to betray me will believe thee still : On my first instance.
Ar. By the sacred majesty
Of Heaven, to whom we kneel, I will obey thee; Yes, I will give thee this severest proof
Of my soul's vow'd devotion; I will part with thee, [thee, (Thou cruel, to command it!) I will part with As wretches that are doubtful of hereafter Part with their lives, unwilling, loath and fear- ful, [thing, And trembling at futurity. But is there no- No small return that honour can afford For all this waste of love?
Se. The gifts of captives
It dances to the sounds that mov'd it first, And owns at once the weakness of my soul. So, when some skilful artist strikes the strings, The magic numbers rouse our sleeping pas sions,
And force us to confess our grief and pleasure. Alas! Axalla, say-dost thou not pity My artless innocence, and easy fondness? Oh! turn thee from me, or I die with blushing.
Ar. No, let me rather gaze, for ever gaze, And bless the new-born glories that adorn thee; From every blush that kindles in thy cheeks, Ten thousand little loves and graces spring To revel in the roses-'t will not be,
Wear somewhat of constraint; and generous This envious trumpet calls and tears me from
« AnteriorContinuar » |