Tamerlane

Front matter

TAMERLANE.

A

TRAGEDY.

Epistle Dedicatory

TO THE

Right Honourable

WILLIAM,

Lord Marquiss of

HARTINGTON.

My LORD, Every Body is now so full of Business, that things of this kind, which are generally taken for the entertainment of leisure Hours only, look like Impertinence and Interruption. I am sure it is a reason why I ought to beg your Lordship's Pardon, for troubling you with this Tragedy; Not but that Poetry has always been, and will still be the Entertainment of all wise Men, that have any delicacy in their Knowledge; Yet at so Critical a Juncture as this is, I must confess I think your Lordship ought to give intirely into those publick Affairs, which at this time seem to demand you. It is that happy Turn which your Lordship has to business, that right understanding of your Country's Interest, and that constant Zeal to pursue it, that just Thinking, that strong and persuasive Elocution, that firm and generous Resolution, which upon all occasions you have shewn in Parliaments; and to add, that which is the crowning good quality, your Lordship's continual adherence and unshaken Loyalty to His present Majesty, which make you at this time so necessary to the Publick. I must confess, (tho' there is no part in your Lordship's Character, but what the World should be fond of) I cannot help distinguishing the last instance very particularly: It is doing (methinks) such a Justice to Goodness, to Greatness, and to Right Reason, that Posterity will believe there could be no Man of good Sense, but what must have agreed with your Lordship in it. When the next Age shall read the History of this, What Excuse can they make for those who did not admire a Prince whose Life has been a Series of good Offices done to Mankind? When they shall reckon up his Labours from the Battle of Seneff, to some Glorious Action, which shall be his Last, (and which I therefore hope is very far remov'd from the present Time?) Will they ever believe that he could have been too well lov'd, or too faithfully serv'd and defended? the World. I might add here, that Inviolable and Religious observance of his Royal Word, which the best part of the Powers of Europe, have so frequently and so happily, for themselves, depended upon in the greatest Emergencies. But as this Virtue is generally reckon'd as no more than that common Honesty, which the meanest Man would blush to be without, so it can hardly claim a place amongst the more particular excellencies of a Great Prince. It were to be wish'd, indeed, that the World were honest to such a degree, and that there were not that scandalous defect of common Morality. Certainly nothing can be more shocking to Humanity, to the Peace and Order of the World; nothing can approach nearer to that Savage state of Nature, in which every Man is to eat his fellow if he can master him, than an avow'd liberty of breaking thro' all the most solemn Engagements of publick Faith. 'Tis something that brands a Man with an Infamy, which nothing can extenuate or wipe out; he may protest and pretend to explain his meaning, but the World has generally too much indignation for the Affront, to bear it at that easie rate. Ministers and Secretaries of State, may display their own parts in Memorials, with as much pomp and flourish as they please: I fancy the common answer upon such occasions will always be, you have deceiv'd us The Great Things which he did before we had that immediate Interest in him, which we now happily have, is a noble and just Subject for Panegyrick; but as Benefits done to Others, can never touch us so sensibly as those we receive our selves, tho' the Actions may be equally great; so, methinks, I can hardly have patience to run back to his having sav'd his own Country, when I consider he has since done the same for Us; Let that be sufficient to Us, for all we can say of him or do for him. What Dangers and Difficulties has he not struggled thro', for the Honour and Safety of these Kingdoms? 'Tis a common Praise, and what every one speaks, to say, He has continually expos'd his Life for his People; But there are some things more particular in his Character, some things rarely found amongst the Policies of Princes; a Zeal for Religion, moderated by Reason, without the rage and fire of Persecution; a charitable Compassion for those who cannot be convinc'd, and an unalterable perseverance in those principles of whose truth he is satisfy'd; a desire of War for the sake of Peace; and of Peace for the good and honour of his Subjects equally with his own; a Pious care for composing Factions, tho' to foment them might make him Arbitrary; and a generous Ambition that only aims at pow'r, to enable him to do good to all the rest of grosly, and we neither can nor will trust you any more. When this Vice comes amongst Men of the first Rank, it is the more shocking, and I could wish there were none such, to whose charge it might be laid.

Some People (who do me a very great Honour in it) have fancy'd, that in the Person of Tamerlane I have alluded to the greatest Character of the present Age. I don't know, whether I ought not to apprehend a great deal of Danger from avowing a Design like that. It may be a Task indeed worthy the greatest Genius, which this, or any other Time has produc'd: But therefore I ought not to stand the Shock of a Parallel, lest it should be seen, to my Disadvantage, how far the Hero has transcended the Poets Thought. There are many Features, 'tis true, in that Great Man's Life, not unlike His Majesty: His Courage, his Piety, his Moderation, his Justice, and his Fatherly Love of his People, but above all, his Hate of Tyranny and Oppression, and his zealous Care for the Common Good of Mankind, carry a large Resemblance of Him: Several Incidents are alike in their Stories; and there wants nothing to his Majesty but such a deciding Victory, as that by which Tamerlane gave Peace to the World. That is yet to come: But I hope we may reasonably expect it from the unanimity of the present Par- liament, and so formidable a Force as that Unanimity will give Life and Vigour to.

If your Lordship can find any thing in this Poem like a Prince, who is so justly the Object of your Lordship's, an indeed of the World's Veneration, I persuade my self it will prevail with you to forgive every thing else that you find amiss. You will excuse the faults in Writing, for the goodness of the Intention. I hope too, your Lordship will not be displeas'd, that I take this opportunity of renewing the honour which I formerly had, to be known to your Lordship, and which gives me at once the pleasure of expressing those Just and Dutiful Sentiments I have for his Majesty, and that strong Inclination which I have always had to be thought,

My Lord,

Your Lordships most Obedient,

Humble Servant,

N. ROWE.

Prologue

PROLOGUE.

Spoke by Mr. Betterton.

Of all the Muses various Labours, none >>> Have lasted longer, or have higher flown, Than those that tell the Fame by ancient Heroes won, With Pleasure, Rome and Great Agustus, 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, (tho' 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 sate, And griev'd at distance for their Neighbours Fate. 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 Pow'r, and Universal Sway: Some abject States for fear the Tyrant joyn; >>> 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 chearful 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 haa so oft been try'd.

The Peaceful Fathers, who in Senates meet, Approve an Enterprize so Just, so Great; While with their Prince's Arms, their Voice thus join'd, Gains half the Praise of having sav'd Mankind. Ev'n 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 his 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 Success, And blest at Home with Beauty and with Peace.

Epilogue

EPILOGUE.

Spoke by .

Too well we saw what must have been our Fate, >>> When Harmony with Beauty joyn'd of late, Threaten'd the Ruin of our sinking State; Till you, from whom our Being we receive, In pity bid your own Creation live. With moving Sounds you kindly drew the Fair, And fixt, once more, that shining Circle here. The Lyre you bring is half Apollos Praise; Be ours the Task to win and wear his Bayes. Thin Houses were before so frequent to us, We wanted not a Project to undo us. We seldom saw your Honours but by chance, As some Folks meet their Friends of Spain and France. 'Twas Verse decay'd, or Politicks improv'd, That had estrang'd you thus from what you lov'd. Time was, when busie Faces were a Jest, When Wit and Pleasure were in most request; When chearful Theaters with Crouds were grac'd; But those good Days of Poetry were past: Now sow'r Reformers in an empty Pit, >>> With Table Books, as at a Lecture, sit, To take Notes, and give Evidence 'gainst Wit. Those who were once our Friends, employ'd elsewhere, Are busie now in setling Peace and War. With careful Brows at Toms and Wills they meet, And ask, who did Election's lose or get—— Our Friend has lost it——Faith, I'm sorry for't, He's a good Man, and ne'er was for the Court: He to no Government will sue for Grace;

Ry want of Merit, safe against a Place: By spite a Patriot made; and sworn t'oppose All who are Uppermost, as Englands Foes. Let Whig or Tory, any side prevail, Still 'tis his constant Priviledge to rail. Another, that the Tax and War may cease, Talks of the Duke of Anjous Right, and Peace; And, from Spains wise Example, is for taking A Vice-Roy of the mighty Monarch's making; Who should all Rights and Liberties maintain, And English Laws by learn'd Dragoons explain.

Come, leave these Politicks, and follow Wit; >>> Here uncontrol'd you may in Judgment sit, We'll never differ with a crowded Pit. We'll take you all, ev'n on your own Conditions, Think you Great Men, and wondrous Politicians. And if you slight the Offers which we make you, No Brentford Princes will for Statesmen take you.

'

Dramatis Personæ

Dramatis Personæ.

| Tamerlane. | Mr. Betterton.

| Bajazet Emperor of the Turks. | Mr. Verbruggen.

| Axalla an Italian Prince, General and Favourite of Tamerlane. | Mr. Booth.

| Moneses a Grecian Prince, and a Christian. | Mr. Powell.

| Stratocles his Friend. | Mr. Pack.

| Prince of Tanais, Kinsman and General to Tamerlane. | Mr. Fieldhouse.

| Omar, a Tartar General. | Mr. Freeman.

| Mirvan | Parthian Generals to Tamerlane. | Mr. Cory.

| Zama | Mr. Husbands.

| Haly, Favourite Eunuch to Bajazet. | Mr. Baily.

| A Turkish Dervise, | Mr. Arnold.

WOMEN.

| Arpasia, a Grecian Princess. | Mrs. Barry.

| Selima, Daughter of Bajazet. | Mrs. Bracegirdle.

| Parthian and Tartar Soldiers.

| Mutes belonging to Bajazet.

| Other Attendants.

SCENE Tamerlanes Camp, near Angoria in Galatia.

Act I, Scene I

TAMERLANE

<>ACT I. SCENE I.

<>SCENE before Tamerlanes Tent.

<>Enter the Prince of Tanais, Zama, and Mirvan.

Hail to the Sun! from whose returning Light The chearful Soldiers 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 Galatias 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 glitt'ring Arms, and Skies.

Zam. Our Asian World 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 prosp'rous Sword; approving Heav'n 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, I 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 Heav'n, 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 Europæan 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; Tho' Omar, and the Tartar Lords repine, And loudly tax their Monarch, as too partial.

Zam. 'E'er the mid Hour of Night, from Tent to Tent, Unweary'd, thro' the num'rous Host he past, Viewing with careful Eyes each several Quarter; Whilst from his Looks, as from Divinity, The Soldier took Presage; and cry'd, Lead on, Great Alha, 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 accidental Passion fires his Breast, (Love, as 'tis thought, for a fair Grecian Captive)

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, amongst his Women, Liv'd from the War retir'd; or else, alone In sullen mood sate 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 Axallas Embassy, I oft observ'd him, Proud, Impatient, Of Ought Superiour, ev'n of Heav'n, that made him. Fond of false Glory, of the Savage Pow'r Of ruling without Reason, of confounding Just, and Unjust, by an Unbounded Will; By whom Religion, Honour, all the Bands, That ought to hold the jarring World in 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 sworn, 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 Un-Kingly Baseness, H'has ta'en the Advantage of their absent Arms. Without a War proclaim'd, or Cause pretended, To wast with Sword and Fire their fruitful Fields: Like some accursed Fiend, who, 'scapt from Hell, Poisons the balmy Air thro' which he flies, He blasts the bearded Corn, and loaded Branches, The lab'ring Hind's best hopes, and marks his way with ruine.

Pr. But see! his Fate, the mighty Tamerlane Comes like the Proxy of inquring Heav'n, To Judge, and to redress.

<>Flourish of Trumpets.

<>Enter Tamerlane, Guards, and other Attendants.

Tam. Yet, yet a little, and destructive Slaughter Shall rage around, and marr this beauteous Prospect; Pass but an Hour, which stands betwixt the Lives Of Thousands and Eternity: What Change Shall hasty Death make in yon glitt'ring Plain? Oh thou fell Monster War! that in a moment Lay'st wast the noblest part of the Creation, The Boast, and Masterpiece of the Great Maker, That wears in vain th' Impression of his Image, Unpriviledg'd from thee. Health to my Friends, and to our Arms Success

Such as the Cause for which we fight deserves.

Pr. Nor can we ask beyond what Heav'n bestows, Preventing still our Wishes. See Great Sir! The Universal Joy, your Soldier wears Omen of prosp'rous 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 mould'ring Soil, disdaining 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 Angorias Walls, and yon tall Mountains, That seem to reach the Clouds; and now he comes Loaden with Spoils, and Conquest, to my aid.

Zam. These Trumpets speak his Presence——

<>Flourish of Trumpets.

<>Enter Axalla with Soldiers. Moneses, Stratocles, and <>Selima, Prisoners.

<>Axalla kneels to Tamerlane.

Tam. Welcome! thou worthy Partner of my Lawrels, Thou Brother of my Choice, a Band more Sacred Than Nature's brittle Tye. 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.

Ax. 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, 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 Flow'rs, Unsully'd Beauty, Softness, and sweetest Innocence she wears, And looks like Nature in the World's first Spring; But say, Axalla——

Sel. Most renoun'd in War, Look with Compassion on a captive Maid, Tho' born of hostile Blood; nor let my Birth Deriv'd 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 Priviledge of Safety.

Tam. [Raising her.] Rise, Royal Maid, the Pride of haughty Power, Pays Homage, not receives it from the Fair: Thy angry Father fiercely calls me forth, And urges me unwillingly to arm; Yet, tho' our frowning Battles menace Dearth And mortal Conflict, think not that we hold Thy Innocence and Vertue 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! Tamerlane! What can I pay thee for this noble Usage But grateful Praise? So Heav'n it self is paid. Give Peace, ye Pow'rs above, Peace to Mankind; Nor Let my Father wage unequal War, Against the force of such united Vertues.

Tam. Heaven hear thy pious Wish!—But since our Prospect Locks darkly on Futurity, till Fate Determine for us, let thy Beauty's Safety Be my Axallas Care; in whose glad Eyes I read what Joy the pleasing Service gives him. Is there amongst thy other Pris'ners ought Worthy our Knowledge?

Ax. This brave Man, my Lord, With long Resistance held the Combat doubtful: His Party, prest with Numbers, soon grew faint, And would have left their Charge an easie Prey; Whilst he alone, undaunted at the odds, Tho' hopeless to escape, fought well and firmly: Nor yielded, till o'er-match'd by many Hands, He seem'd to shame our Conquest, whilst he own'd it.

Tam. Thou speak'st him as a Soldier should a Soldier, Just to the worth he finds. I would not war With ought that wears thy vertuous Stamp of Greatness: Thy Habit speaks thee Christian——Nay, yet more, My Soul seems pleas'd to take acquaintance with thee, As if ally'd to thine: Perhaps 'tis Sympathy Of honest Minds; Like Strings wound up in Musick, Where by one touch, both utter the same Harmony: Why art thou then a Friend to Bajazet? And why my Enemy?

Mor. If Humane 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 ev'n 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 Heav'n! Were I to chuse from all Mankind a Master, It should be Tamerlane.

Tam. A noble Freedom Dwells with the Brave, unknown to fawning Sycophants, And Claims a Priviledge of being believ'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 thro' successive Hero's Veins ally'd To our Greek Emperors, roll'd down to me, Feeds the bright Flame of Glory in my Heart.

Tam. Ev'n that! that Princely Tye should bind thee to me, If Vertue were not more than all Alliance.

Mon. I have a Sister, (Oh severe Remembrance!) Our noble Houses, nay, her Sexe's Pride: Nor think my Tongue too lavish, if I speak her Fair as the Fame of Vertue, 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 Infancy 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 giv'n, the Greeks depended) With sudden War broke in upon the Country, Secure of Peace, and for Defence unready.

Tam. Let Majesty no more be held Divine, Since Kings, who are call'd Gods, profane themselves.

Mon. Among the Wretches, whom that Deluge swept Away to Slavery, my self and Sister Then passing near the Frontiers to the Court, (Which waited for her Nuptials) were surpriz'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 shewn for him. I had long learnt to hold my self 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 Axallas Fortune tells you.

Tam. Wisely the Tyrant strove, to prop his Cause By leaguing with thy Vertue; but just Heav'n 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 e're 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 (Tho' 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.

Mon. Let Bajazet Bend to his Yoak 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 thy self a Lover and a Friend: Does not this Prince's Fortune move thy Temper?

Ax. Yes, Sir, I mourn the brave Moneses Fate; The Merit of his Vertue hardly match'd With disadvent'rous Chance: Yet, Prince, allow me, Allow me from the 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 Sister.

Mon. I did: Oh, most accurst!

Ax. Think what he feels, Dasht in the fierceness of his Expectation; Then, when the approaching Minute of possession Had wound Imagination to the heighth,

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 Strugglings, Whilst his Misfortunes press him to disgorge it.

Tam. Spare the remembrance; 'tis a useless Grief, And adds to the Misfortune by repeating it. The Revolution of a Day may bring Such Turns, as Heav'n it self could scarce have promis'd; Far, far beyond thy Wish: Let that Hope chear thee; Haste my Axalla, to dispose, with safety, Thy beauteous Charge, and on the Foe revenge The Pain, which Absence gives; thy other care, Honour and Arms, now summon thy Attendance; Now, do thy Office well, my Soul, remember Thy Cause; the Cause of Heaven and injur'd Earth. O thou Supream! if thy great Spirit warms My glowing Breast, and sires my Soul to arms, Grant that my Sword, assisted by thy Pow'r, >>> This Day may Peace and Happiness restore, That War and lawless Rage may vex thy World no more,

<>Manent Axalla, and Selima, with Soldiers.

Ax. 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, Ev'n then thou wert not thus.

Sel. Art not thou 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 joyn 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 Conquest, and my Chains, Axalla.

Ax. Yet I will listen fair unkind Upbraider, Yet I will listen to thy charming Accents, Altho' they make me curse my Fame and Fortune, My Lawrel-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?

Sel. Away, Deceiver; 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 Beauty's they admire? 'Twas well my Heart was cautious of believing Thy Vows, and thy protesting. Know, my Conqueror, Thy Sword has vanquish'd but the half of Selima, Her Soul disdains thy Victory.

Ax. Hear, sweet Heav'n, Hear the fair Tyrant, how she wrests Love's Laws, As she had vow'd my Ruin! What is Conquest? 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 ev'n Tamerlane (whose Word, next Heav'n's, Makes Fate at second hand) bid thee disclaim Thy Fears? And dost thou call thy self a Slave? Only to try how far the sad Impression Can sink into Axalla.