Sel. My fears increase, and doubly press me

now:

I charge thee, if thy sword comes cross my father, Stop for a moment, and remember me.

Ar. Oh, doubt not but his life shall be my care; Even dearer than my own.

Sel. Guard that for me too.

Ar. Oh, Selima! thou hast restor❜d my quiet, The noble ardour of the war, with love Returning, brightly burns within my breast, And bids me be secure of all hereafter. So cheers some pious saint a dying sinner (Who trembled at the thoughts of pains to come) With Heaven's forgiveness and the hopes of

SCENE I-TAMERLANE's Camp.

Enter MONESES.

Fallen like the proud archangel from the height
Where once (even next to majesty divine)
Enthron'd he sat, down to the vile descent
And lowness of a slave: but oh! to speak
The rage, the fierceness, and the indignation !--
It bars all words, and cuts description short.
Mon. Then he is fallen! that comet which
on high

Portended ruin; he has spent his blaze,
And shall distract the world with fears no more.
Sure it must bode me well; for oft my soul
Has started into tumult at his name,
As if my guardian angel took the alarm,
At the approach of somewhat mortal to me.
But say, my friend, what hear'st thou of Arpasia?
For there my thoughts, my every care is centred.
Stra. Though on that purpose still I bent my
search,

Yet nothing certain could I gain, but this;
That in the pillage of the Sultan's tent
Some women were made prisoners, who this
morning

Were to be offer'd to the emperor's view:
Their names and qualities, though oft enquiring,
I could not learn.

Mon. Then must my soul still labour
Beneath uncertainty and anxious doubt,
The mind's worst state. The tyrant's ruin
gives me

But a half ease.

you.

Scarce was the sun, who shone upon the horror
Of the past day, sunk to the western ocean,
When, by permission from the prince Axalla,
I mix'd among the tumult of the warriors
Returning from the battle: here a troop
Of hardy Parthians, red with honest wounds,
Confess'd the conquest they had well deserv'd;
There a dejected crew of wretched captives,
Sore with unprofitable hurts, and groaning
Under new bondage, follow'd sadly after
The haughty victor's heels. But that which
fully

Crown'd the success of Tamerlane, was Bajazet, |
OL. II.... L

When thy lov'd sight shall bless my eyes again, Then I will own I ought not to complain, Since that sweet hour is worth whole years of pain. [Exeunt

SCENE II-The inside of a magnificent Tent. Symphony of Warlike Music. Enter TAMERLANE, AXALLA, PRINCE of TANAIS, ZAMA, MIRVAN, Soldiers, and other Attendants.

Ar. From this auspicious day the Parthian

name

Shall date its birth of empire, and extend Even from the dawning east to utmost Thule, The limits of its sway.

Pr. Nations unknown,

Where yet the Roman eagles never flew,
Shall pay their homage to victorious Tamerlane
Bend to his valour and superior virtue,
And own, that conquest is not given by chance,
But, bound by fatal and resistless merit,
Waits on his arms.

Tam. It is too much you dress me
Like an usurper, in the borrow'd attributes
Of injur'd Heaven. Can we call conquest ours?
Shall man, this pigmy, with a giant's pride,
Vaunt of himself, and say, Thus have I done this?
Oh, vain pretence to greatness! Like the moon
We borrow all the brightness which we boast,
Dark in ourselves, and useless. If that hand,
That rules the fate of battles, strike for us,
Crown us with fame, and gild our clay with
honour,

Twere most ungrateful to disown the benefit,
And arrogate a praise which is not ours.

Ar. With such unshaken temper of the soul
To bear the swelling tide of prosperous fortune,
Is to deserve that fortune: in adversity
The mind grows tough by buffeting the tempest,
Which, in success dissolving, sinks to ease,
And loses all her firmness.

Tam. Oh, Axalla!

Could I forget I am a man as thou art;
Would not the winter's cold, or summer's heat,
Sickness, or thirst, and hunger, all the train
Of Nature's clamorous appetites, asserting
An equal right in kings and common men,
Reprove me daily!-No-If I boast of aught,
Be it to have been Heaven's happy instrument,
The means of good to all my fellow-creatures:
This is a king's best praise.

Enter OMAR.

Om. Honour and fame

[Bowing to TAMERLANE. For ever wait the emperor: may our prophet Give him ten thousand thousand days of life, And every day like this. The captive sultan, Fierce in his bonds, and at his fate repining, Attends your sacred will.

Tam. Let him approach.

Enter BAJAZET, and other Turkish Prisoners in Chains, with a Guard of Soldiers.

When I survey the ruins of this field,
The wild destruction, which thy fierce ambition
Has dealt among mankind, (so many widows
And helpless orphans has thy battle made,
That half our eastern world this day are
mourners)

Well may I, in behalf of Heaven and earth,
Demand from thee atonement for this wrong.
Baj. Make thy demand to those that own thy
power,

Know, I am still beyond it; and though fortune
(Curse on that changeling deity of fools!)
Has stripp'd me of the train and pomp of greatness,
That outside of a king, yet still my soul,
Fix'd high, and of itself alone dependent,
Is ever free and royal, and even now,
As at the head of battle, does defy thee:

I know what power the chance of war has given, And dare thee to the use on't. This vile speeching,

This after-game of words, is what most irks me:
Spare that, and for the rest 'tis equal all-
Be it as it may.

Tam. Well was it for the world,
When on their borders neighbouring princes met,
Frequent in friendly parle, by cool debates
Preventing wasteful war: such should our
meeting

Have been, hadst thou but held in just regard
The sanctity of leagues so often sworn to.
Canst thou believe thy prophet, or what's more,
That Power supreme, which made thee and thy
prophet,

Will, with impunity, let pass that breach
Of sacred faith given to the royal Greek?

Baj. Thou pedant talker! ha! art thou a king Possess'd of sacred power, Heaven's darling attribute,

And dost thou prate of leagues, and oaths, and prophets?

I hate the Greek (perdition on his name!)
As I do thee, and would have met you both,
As death does human nature, for destruction.

Tam. Causeless to hate, is not of human ki The savage brute, that haunts in woods remote And desert wilds, tears not the fearful traveller, If hunger, or some injury, provoke not.

Baj. Can a king want a cause, when empire bids

Go on? What is he born for, but ambition
It is his hunger, 'tis his call of nature,
The noble appetite which will be satisfied,
And, like the food of gods, makes him immortal.
Tam. Henceforth I will not wonder we were
foes,

Since souls that differ so by nature, hate,
And strong antipathy forbid their union.

Baj. The noble fire that warms me, does indeed

Transcend thy coldness. I am pleas'd we differ, Nor think alike.

Tam. No-for I think like man, Thou like a monster, from whose baleful presence Nature starts back; and though she fix'd her

stamp

On thy rough mass, and mark'd thee for a man,
Now, conscious of her error, she disclaims thee,
As form'd for her destruction.-

'Tis true, I am a king, as thou hast been:
Honour and glory too have been my aim;
But though I dare face death, and all the dangers
Which furious war wears in its bloody front,
Yet would I choose to fix my name by peace,
By justice, and by mercy; and to raise
My trophies on the blessings of mankind.
Nor would I buy the empire of the world
With ruin of the people whom I sway,
On forfeit of my honour.

Baj. Prophet, I thank thee. Damnation-Couldst thou rob me of my glory, To dress up this tame king, this preaching

dervis?

Unfit for war, thou shouldst have lived secure
In lazy peace, and with debating senates
Shar'd a precarious sceptre, sat tamely still,
And let bold factions canton out thy power,
And wrangle for the spoils they robb'd thee of;
Whilst I, (curse on the power that stops my
ardour!)

Would, like a tempest, rush amidst the nations,
Be greatly terrible, and deal, like Alha,
My angry thunder on the frighted world.
Tam. The world!-'twould be too little for
thy pride:

Thou wouldst scale Heaven—

Baj. I would:-Away! my soul Disdains thy conference.

Tam. Thou vain, rash thing, That, with gigantic insolence, hast dar'd To lift thy wretched self above the stars, And mate with power Almighty: Thou art

fallen!

quer'd?

Baj. Oh, glorious thought! By Heaven I will enjoy it,

Though but in fancy, imagination shall
Make room to entertain the vast idea.
Oh! had I been the master but of yesterday,
The world, the world had felt me; and for thee,
I had us'd thee, as thou art to me-a dog,
The object of my scorn and mortal hatred :
I would have taught thy neck to know my
weight,

And mounted from that footstool to my saddle:
Then, when thy daily servile task was done,
I would have caged thee, for the scorn of slaves,
Till thou hadst begged to die; and even that
mercy

I had denied thee. Now thou know'st my mind,
And question me no farther.

Tum. Well dost thou teach me What justice should exact from thee. Mankind With one consent, cry out for vengeance on thee: Loudly they call to cut off this league-breaker, This wild destroyer, from the face of earth.

Baj. Do it, and rid thy shaken soul at once Of its worst fear.

Tam. Why slept the thunder That should have arm'd the idol deity, And given thee power, ere yester sun was set, To shake the soul of Tamerlane. Hadst thou

That fated us to different scenes of slaughter! Oh! could my sword have met thee!

Tam. Thou hadst then,

As now, been in my power, and held thy life
Dependant on my gift-Yes, Bajazet,
I bid thee live.-So much my soul disdains
That thou shouldst think I can fear aught but
Heaven:

Nay more; couldst thou forget thy brutal fierceness,

And form thyself to manhood, I would bid thee
Live, and be still a king, that thou mayest learn
What man should be to man, in war remember-
ing

The common tie and brotherhood of kind.
This royal tent, with such of thy domestics
As can be found, shall wait upon thy service;
Nor will I use my fortune to demand
Hard terms of peace, but such as thou mayst

good,

Though the ungrateful subjects of their favours
Are barren in return: thy stubborn pride,
That spurns the gentle office of humanity,
Shall in my honour own, and thy despite,
I have done as I ought. Virtue still does
With scorn the mercenary world regard,
Where abject souls do good, and hope reward
Above the worthless trophies men can raise,
She seeks not honours, wealth, nor airy praise,
But with herself, herself the goddess pays.

[Exeunt TAMERLANE, AXALLA, PRINCE of TANAIS, MIRVAN, ZAMA, and Attendants. Baj. Come, lead me to my dungeon; plunge me down

Deep from the hated sight of man and day, Where, under covert of the friendly darkness, My soul may brood, at leisure, o'er its anguish. Om. Our royal master would with noble

Had she the softness of a tender bride,
Heaven could not have bestow'd a greater blessing,
And love had made amends for loss of empire.
But see, what fury dwells upon her charms!
What lightning flashes from her angry eyes!
With a malignant joy she views my ruin:
Even beauteous in her hatred, still she charms me,
And awes my fierce tumultuous soul to love.

Arp. And darest thou hope, thou tyrant! ra

visher!

That Heaven has any joy in store for thee?
Look back upon the sum of thy past life,
Where tyranny, oppression, and injustice,
Perjury, murders, swell the black account;
Where lost Arpasia's wrongs stand bleeding
fresh,
[thee
Thy last recorded crime. But Heaven has found
At length the tardy vengeance has o'erta'en theo.
My weary soul shall bear a little longer

The pain of life, to call for justice on thee:
That once complete, sink to the peaceful grave,
And lose the memory of my wrongs and thee.
Baj. Thou railest! I thank thee for it-Be
perverse,

And muster all the woman in thy soul;
Goad me with curses, be a very wife,
That I may fling off this tame love, and hate thee.
Enter MONESES.

Ha! keep thy temper, hear; nor take alarm
At a slave's presence. [BAJAZET starting.
Mon. It is Arpasia !-Leave me, thou cold fear.
Sweet as the rosy morn she breaks upon me,
And sorrow, like the night's unwholesome shade,
Gives way before the golden dawn she brings.
Baj. [Advancing towards him.] Ha, Christian!
Is it well that we meet thus?

Is this thy faith?

Mon. Why does thy frowning brow Put on this form of fury? Is it strange We should meet here companions in misfortune, The captives in one common chance of war? Nor shouldst thou wonder that my sword has fail'd

Before the fortune of victorious Tamerlane,
When thou, with nations like the sanded shore,
With half the warring world upon thy side,
Could not stand up against his dreadful battle,
That crush'd thee with its shock. Thy men can
witness,

Those cowards that forsook me in the combat,
My sword was not unactive.

Baj. No-'tis false;

Where is my daughter, thou vile Greek? Thou hast

Betray'd her to the Tartar; or even worse,
Pale with thy fear, didst lose her like a coward;
And like a coward now, would cast the blame
On fortune and ill stars.

Mon. Ha! saidst thou, like a coward;
What sanctity, what majesty divine
Hast thou put on, to guard thee from my rage,
That thus thou darest to wrong me?

Baj. Out, thou slave, And know me for thy lord

Mon. I tell thee, tyrant,

When in the pride of power thou sat'st on high, When like an idol thou wert vainly worshipp'd; By prostrate wretches, born with slavish souls; Even when thou wert a king, thou wert no

more,

Nor greater than Moneses; born of a race
Royal and great as thine. What art thou now
then?

The fate of war has set thee with the lowest ;
And captives (like the subjects of the grave)
Losing distinction, serve one common lord.

Baj. Brav'd by this dog! Now give a loose to rage,

And curse thyself; curse thy false, cheating
prophet.
[Christian!
Ha! yet there's some revenge. Hear me, thou
Thou left'st that sister with me:-Thou im-
postor!

Thou boaster of thy honesty! Thou liar!
But take her to thee back.
Now to explore my prison-If it holds
Another plague like this, the restless damn'd
(If Mufties fie not) wonder thus in hell;
From scorching flames to chilling frosts they run,
T'hen from their frosts to fires return again,

And only prove variety of pain.

[Exeunt BAJAZET and HALY Arp. Stay, Bajazet, I charge thee by my wrongs!

Stay and unfold a tale of so much horror
As only fits thy telling.-Oh, Moneses!
Mon. Why dost thou weep? why this tem-
pestuous passion,

That stops thy faltering tongue short on my name?
Oh, speak! unveil this mystery of sorrow,
And draw the dismal scene at once to sight.

Arp. Thou art undone, lost, ruin'd, and undone!

Mon. I will not think 'tis so, while I have thee; While thus 'tis given to fold thee in my arms; For while I sigh upon thy panting bosom, The sad remembrance of past woes is lost.

Arp. Forbear to sooth thy soul with flattering thoughts,

Of evils overpast, and joys to come:
Our woes are like the genuine shade beneath,
Where fate cuts off the very hopes of day,
And everlasting night and horror reign.

Mon. By all the tenderness and chaste endear

Still partner of my heart! Scarce hadst thou left
The sultan's camp, when the imperious tyrant,
Softening the pride and fierceness of his temper,
With gentle speech made offer of his love.
Amaz'd, as at the shock of sudden death,
I started into tears, and often urg'd
(Though still in vain) the difference of our
faiths.

At last, as flying to the utmost refuge,
With lifted hands and streaming eyes, I own'd
The fraud; which when we first were made his
prisoners,

Conscious of my unhappy form, and fearing
For thy dear life, I forc'd thee to put on
Thy borrow'd name of brother, mine of sister;
Hiding beneath that vale the nearer tie
Our mutual vows had made before the priest.
Kindling to rage at hearing of my story,
Then, be it so, he cried: Think'st thou thy

Vows,

Given to a slave, shall bar me from thy beauties Then bade the priest pronounce the marriage rites:

Which he perform'd; whilst, shrieking with despair,

I call'd, in vain, the powers of Heaven to aid me.
Mon. Villain! Imperial villain!-Oh, the
coward!
[power,
Aw'd by his guilt, though back'd by force and
He durst not, to my face, avow his purpose;
But, in my absence, like a lurking thief,
Stole on my treasure, and at once undid me.

Arp. Had they not kept me from the mean of

death,

Forgetting all the rules of Christian suffering, I had done a desperate murder on my soul, Ere the rude slaves, that waited on his will, Had forc'd me to his

Mon. Stop thee there, Arpasia, And bar my fancy from the guilty scene! Let not thought enter, lest the busy mind Should muster such a train of monstrous images

As would distract me. Oh! I cannot bear it.
Thou lovely hoard of sweets, where all my joys
Were treasur'd up, to have thee rifled thus!
Thus torn untasted from my eager wishes!
But I will have thee from him. Tamerlane
(The sovereign judge of equity on earth)
Shall do me justice on this mighty robber,
And render back thy beauties to Moneses.
Arp. And who shall render back my peace,
my honour,

The spotless whiteness of my virgin soul?
Ah! no, Moneses-Think not I will ever
Bring a polluted love to thy chaste arms:
I am the tyrant's wife. Oh, fatal title!
And in the sight of all the saints, have sworn,
By honour, womanhood, and blushing shame,
To know no second bride-bed but my grave.
Mon. I swear it must not be, since still my

eye

Finds thee as heavenly white, as angel pure,
As in the earliest hours of life thou wert:
Nor art thou his, but mine; thy first vows mine,
Thy soul is mine-

Árp. Oh! think not, that the power
Of most persuavive eloquence can make me
Forget I've been another's, been his wife.
Now, by my blushes, by the strong confusion
And anguish of my heart, spare me, Moneses,
Nor urge my trembling virtue to the precipice.
Shortly, oh! very shortly, if my sorrows
Divine aright, and Heaven be gracious to me,
Death shall dissolve the fatal obligation,
And give me up to peace, to that bless'd place
Where the good rest from care and anxious life.
Mon. Oh, teach me, thou fair saint, like thee
to suffer!

Teach me, with hardy piety, to combat
The present ills; instruct my eyes to pass
The narrow bounds of life, this land of sorrow,
And, with bold hopes, to view the realms beyond
Those distant beauties of the future state.
Tell me, Arpasia-say, what joys are those
That wait to crown the wretch who suffers here?
Oh! tell me, and sustain my failing faith.

Arp. Imagine somewhat exquisitely fine, Which fancy cannot paint, which the pleas'd

mind

Can barely know, unable to describe it; Imagine 'tis a tract of endless joys

Without satiety or interruption;

Imagine 'tis to meet, and part no more.

Cheerless, in darkness, he pursues his way. [Exeunt MONESES and ARPASIA, severally ACT III.

SCENE I.-The Inside of the Royal Tent. Enter AXALLA, SELIMA, and Women Attendants.

Ar. Can there be aught in love beyond this proof,

This wonderous proof, I give thee of my faith?
To tear thee from my bleeding bosom thus!
To rend the strings of life, to set thee free,
And yield thee to a cruel father's power,
Foe to my hopes! What canst thou pay me
back,

What but thyself, thou angel, for this fondness?
Sel. Thou dost upbraid me, beggar as I am,
And urge me with my poverty of love.
Perhaps thou think'st 'tis nothing for a maid
To struggle through the niceness of her sex,
The blushes, and the fears, and own she loves.
Thou think'st 'tis nothing for my artless heart
To own my weakness, and confess thy triumph.
Ax. Oh yes I own it; my charm'd ears ne'er

knew

A sound of so much rapture, so much joy.
Not voices, instruments, nor warbling birds,
Not winds, not murmuring waters join'd in con-
cert,

Not tuneful nature, not th' according spheres,
Utter such harmony, as when my Selima,
With downcast looks and blushes, said—I love.

Sel. And yet thou say'st, I am a niggard to thee.
I swear the balance shall be held between us,
And love be judge, if, after all the tenderness,
Tears and confusion of my virgin soul,
Thou shouldst complain of aught, unjust Axalla.
Ax. Why was I ever bless'd!-Why is re
membrance

Rich with a thousand pleasing images
Of past enjoyments, since 'tis but plague to me?
When thou art mine no more, what will it ease

me

our lot!

Let us be bless'd together.-Oh, my soul!
Build on that hope, and let it arm thy courage
To struggle with the storm that parts us now.
Arp. Yes, my Moneses! now the surges rise,
The swelling sea breaks in between our barks,
And drives us to our fate on different rocks.
Farewell!- -My soul lives with thee.-
Mon. Death is parting,

'Tis the last sad adieu 'twixt soul and body.
But this is somewhat worse▬▬▬▬▬▬▬)
-My joy, my
comfort,

All that was left in life, fleets after thee;
My aching sight hangs on thy parting beauties,
Thy lovely eyes, all drown'd in floods of sorrow,
So sinks the setting sun beneath the waves,
And leaves the traveller, in pathless woods,
Benighted and forlorn-Thus, with sad eyes,
Westward he turns, to mark the light's decay,
Till, having lost the last faint glimpse of day,

My father, rough and stormy in his nature,
To me was always gentle, and, with fondness
Paternal, ever met me with a blessing.
Oft, when offence had stirr'd him to such fury,
That not grave counsellors for wisdom fam'd,
Nor hardy captains that had fought his battles,
Presum'd to speak, but struck with awful dread,
Were hush'd as death; yet has he smil'd on me,
Kiss'd me, and bade me utter all my purpose,
Till, with my idle prattle, I had sooth'd him,
And won him from his anger.

Ar. Oh! I know

Thou hast a tongue to charm the wildest tempers Herds would forget to graze, and savage beasts Stand still and lose their fierceness, but to hear

thee,

As if they had reflection, and by reason
Forsook a less enjoyment for a greater.
But, oh! when I revolve each circumstance,
My Christian faith, my service closely bound