What will they produce, but Zara's tears Spite of her frauds, disguise, and artifice, Osm. Thy counsel charms me! We'll about it now. "Twill be some recompense, at least, to see Oras. Oh, my lord! for your heartOsm. Distrust me not-my love, indeed, is weak, [Zara. But honour and disdain more strong than Here, take this fatal letter-choose a slave Whom yet she never saw, and who retains His tried fidelity-Despatch-begoneNow, whither shall I turn my eyes and steps, The surest way to shun her: and give time For this discovering trial?-Heaven! she's here! Enter ZARA. [Exit ORASMIN. So, Madam! fortune will befriend my cause, To end our mutual pain, that both may rest: But you deceiv'd yourself and injur'd me. name: Be just, nor trifle with my anger: tell me Now, while expiring pity struggles faint; While I have yet, perhaps, the power to parGive up the bold invader of my claim, [don: 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. Zur. 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, [you. Did it not love, has pride and power to shun 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. 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? Orasmin, she's perfidious, even beyond Consuming nothing till it first embraces. Haste to detect her vileness and my wrongs. Oras. Punctual I have obey'd your whole command; 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, Heaven! Osm. I have discern'd a gleam of distant hope; [France, This hateful Christian, the light growth of 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 surprize and seize him; [shame, Then, bound in fetters, and o'erwhelmed with. answer: 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 1-to engage myself, This tiger, savage in his tenderness, Yet, cannot your neglected heart efface Zar. What reproach Can I with justice make him?—I, indeed, Was not his throne, was not his temple ready? Sel. Talk we no more of this unhappy pasWhat resolution will your virtue take? [sion: Zar. All things combine to sink me to des pair : From the seraglio death alone will free me. Let thy hand save me, and thy will direct. Enter SELIMA and MELIdor. Go tell the Christian who intrusted thee, That Zara's heart is fix'd, nor shrinks at danger; And that my faithful friend will, at the hour, Enter OSMAN and ORASMIN. What answer gave she to the letter sent her? Mel. She blush'd and trembled, and grew pale, and paus'd, [pale, Then blush'd, and read it; and again grew And wept, and smil'd, and doubted, and re solv'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: 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. not Orasmin, prophet, reason, truth and love! Reflect on your own greatness, Osm. Hark !-heard'st thou nothing? Osm. A voice, like dying groans! Oras. Nor tread of mortal foot-nor voice I hear : The still seraglio lies, profoundly plung'd Benight my suffering soul-Thou dost not know Oras. Tears!-Oh, Heaven! Osm. The first which ever yet unmann'd Oh! pity Zara-pity me-Orasmin, you Osm. Do-tremble at my sufferings, at my love; At my revenge too, tremble-for 'tis due, Oras. Hark! I hear The steps of men, along the neighb'ring wall! Osm. Fly-seize him-'tis Nerestan! Wait no chains, But drag him down to my impatient eye. [Exit ORASMIN. Enter ZARA and SELIMA, in the dark. Zar. Where art thou, Selima? Give me thy It is so dark, I tremble as I step, [hand. 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 Would blush, should I forbear: now--Zara, 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 ! It cannot now be long, ere we shall meet him. Zar. I walk in terror, and my heart forebodes. Who's there!-Nerestan! Is it you?-O wel -I will now [her! Haste from this fatal place-I cannot leave Whom did I strike? Was this the act of love? Swallow me, earth!-She's silent-Zara's dead! And should I live to see returning day, "Twill show me but her blood!-show me left joyless, [me, In a wide, empty world, with nothing round But penitence and pain-And yet 'twas just:Hark!-Destiny has sent her lover to me, To fill my vengeance, and restore my joy. Enter ORASMIN with NERESTAN. Approach, thou wretch! thou more than curs'd come near Thou who, in gratitude for freedom gain'd, Oras. All is prepar❜d. Osm. Thy wanton eyes look round, in search of her Whose love descending to a slave like thee, From my dishonour'd hand receiv'd her doom. See! where she lies Ner. Oh, fatal, rash mistake! Osm. Dost thou behold her, slave? Osm. Sister!-Didst thou say sister? If thou didst, Bless me with deafness, Heaven! She was my sister-All that now is left thee, next The remnant of the royal Christian blood: To his now murder'd daughter!- and Heaven! Osm. Be dumb-for thou art base, to add | Curs'd climate! where to cards a lone-left distraction 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. 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 IHaste 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; Reverence this hero and conduct him sate. [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. EPILOGUE. | HERE, take a surfeit, Sirs, of being jealous, And shun the pains that plague those Turkish fellows: Where love and death join hands, their darts confounding : Save us, good Heaven, from this new way of wounding. woman 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-be 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. She. 'Twas the custom, you know, once in Greece, And if here 'tis not witty, 'tis new. He. Well then, when you find an act cease, [Turning to the boxes. Tremble ladiesShe. And gentlemen, too- [To the men. If 1 give not the beaux good advice, [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 advise Face about, and stand all as ye were. 'Tis the fault of you men, who, with flames of desire, Set your palates on fire, And dream not, that eating-will appetite tire; "Till, alas! on a sudden you sleep o'er your Therefore, learn, O ye fair! He. And, you lovers, take care- [meat [fall. For to stand on sure ground is the way not to AFTER THE SECOND ACT. Oн, jealousy, thou bane of bleeding love! Not more unstaid than lovers' hearts the wind! II. Go to the deeps below, thou joyless fiend, on care. Never conclude your innocence secure, [As she is going off, he meets her, and pulls 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 Condemn, and accuse, He. Would you have us agree, you must The love we caress, We smother. She. I am loath to think that— |