That blazes out, when love too fiercely burns. Arp. For thee to wrong me, and for me to suffer,

Is the hard lesson that my soul has learnt,
And now I stand prepared for all to come;
Nor is it worth my leisure to distinguish
If love or jealousy commit the violence.
Each have alike been fatal to my peace,
Confirming me a wretch, and thee a tyrant.
Baj. Still to deform thy gentle brow with
frowns,

And still to be perverse, it is a manner
Abhorrent from the softness of thy sex:
Women, like summer storms, awhile are cloudy,
Burst out in thunder and impetuous showers;
But strait, the sun of beauty dawns abroad,
And all the fair horizon is serene.

Arp. Then, to retrieve the honour of my sex, Here I disclaim that changing and inconstancy : To thee I will be ever as I am.

Baj. Thou say'st I am a tyrant; think so still,

And let it warn thy prudence to lay hold

On the good hour of peace, that courts thee

To court thy stubborn temper with endearments.
Resolve, this moment, to return my love,
And be the willing partner of my flight,
Or, by the prophet's holy law, thou diest!
Arp. And dost thou hope to fright me with
the phantom,

Death? 'Tis the greatest mercy thou canst give;
So frequent are the murders of thy reign,
One day scarce passing by, unmark'd with blood,
That children, by long use, have learnt to scorn it.
Know, I disdain to aid thy treacherous purpose;
And shouldst thou dare to force me, with my
cries

I will call Heaven and earth to my assistance. Buj. Confusion! dost thou brave me? But my wrath

Shall find a passage to thy swelling heart,
And rack thee worse than all the pains of death.
That Grecian dog, the minion of thy wishes,
Shall be dragg'd forth, and butcher'd in thy
sight;

Thou shalt behold him when his pangs are terrible,

Then, when he stares, and gasps, and struggles strongly,

Even in the bitterest agony of dying;

way,

And resolution sickens at the thought;
A flood of passion rises in my breast,
And labours fiercely upward to my eyes.
Come, all ye great examples of my sex,
Chaste virgins, tender wives, and pious matrons!
Ye holy martyrs, who with wondrous faith
And constancy unshaken, have sustained
The rage of cruel men, and fiery persecution,
Come to my aid, and teach me to defy
The malice of this fiend! I feel, I feel
Your sacred spirit arm me to resistance.
Yes, tyrant, I will stand this shock of fate;
Will live to triumph o'er thee, for a moment,
Then die well pleased, and follow my Moneses.
Baj. Thou talk'st it well. But talking is thy
privilege;

'Tis all the boasted courage of thy sex;
Though, for thy soul, thou dar'st not meet the
danger.

Arp. By all my hopes of happiness, I dare!My soul is come within her ken of Heaven; Charmed with the joys and beauties of that place,

Her thoughts and all her cares she fixes there,
And 'tis in vain for thee to rage below:
Thus stars shine bright, and keep their place
above,

Though ruffling winds deform this lower world.
Baj. This moment is the trial.
Arp. Let it come!

This moment then shall shew I am a Greek,
And speak my country's courage in my suffering.
Baj. Here, mercy, I disclaim thee! Mark me,
traitress!

My love prepares a victim to thy pride, And when it greets thee next, 'twill be in blood. [Exit BAJAZET.

Arp. My heart beats higher, and my nimble

spirits

Ride swiftly through their purple channels round. 'Tis the last blaze of life. Nature revives, Like a dim winking lamp, that flashes brightly With parting light, and straight is dark for ever.. And see, my last of sorrows is at hand; Death and Moneses come together to me; As if my stars, that had so long been cruel, Grew kind at last, and gave me all I wish. Enter MONESES, guarded by some Mutes; others attending with a cup of poison, and a bowstring.

Mon. I charge ye, O ye ministers of fate! Be swift to execute your master's will; Bear me to my Arpasia; let me tell her, The tyrant is grown kind. He bids me go, And die beneath her feet. A joy shoots through My drooping breast; as often, when the trumpet Has called my youthful ardour forth to battle, High in my hopes, and ravish'd with the sound,

I have rush'd eager on, amidst the foremost,
To purchase victory, or glorious death.

Arp. If it be happiness, alas! to die,
To lie forgotten in the silent grave,
To love and glory lost, and from among
The great Creator's works expung'd and blotted,
Then, very shortly, shall we both be happy.
Mon. There is no room for doubt; 'tis cer-

tain bliss.

The tyrant's cruel violence, thy loss,
Already seem more light; nor has my soul
One unrepented guilt upon remembrance,
To make me dread the justice of hereafter;
But standing now on the last verge of life,
Boldly I view the last abyss, eternity,
Eager to plunge, and leave my woes behind me.
Arp. By all the truth of our past loves, I vow,
To die appears a very nothing to me..
But, oh, Moneses! should I not allow
Somewhat to love, and to my sex's tenderness?
This very now I could put off my being
Without a groan; but to behold thee die!--
Nature shrinks in me at the dreadful thought,
Nor can my constancy sustain this blow.

Mon. Since thou art armed for all things after death,

Why should the pomp and preparation of it
Be frightful to thy eyes? There's not a pain,
Which age or sickness brings, the least disorder
That vexes any part of this fine frame,
But's full as grievous. All that the mind feels
Is much, much more. And see, I go to prove it.
Enter a Mute: he signs to the rest, who proffer
a bow-string to MONESES.

Arp. Think, ere we part!
Mon. Of what?

Arp. Of something soft,

Tender and kind, of something wondrous sad.
Oh, my full soul!

Mon. My tongue is at a loss; Thoughts crowd so fast, thy name is all I've left,

My kindest, truest, dearest, best Arpasia! [The Mutes struggle with him. Arp. I have a thousand, thousand things to utter,

A thousand more to hear yet. Barbarous villains!

Give me a minute. Speak to me, Moneses! Mon. Speak to thee? 'Tis the business of my life,

'Tis all the use I have for vital air.

Stand off, ye slaves! To tell thee that my heart Is full of thee; that, even at this dread moment,

My fond eyes gaze with joy and rapture on thee; Angels, and light itself, are not so fair.

Enter BAJAZET, HALY, and Attendants. Baj. Ha! wherefore lives this dog? Be quick, ye slaves!

And rid me of my pain.
Mon. For only death,

And the last night, can shut out my Arpasia. [The Mutes strangle MONESES.

Arp. Oh, dismal! 'tis not to be borne! Ye moralists!

Ye talkers! what are all your precepts now? Patience? distraction! Blast the tyrant, blast him,

Avenging lightnings! Snatch him hence, ye fiends!

Love! Death! Moneses! Nature can no more; Ruin is on her, and she sinks at once.

[She sinks down. Baj. Help, Haly! raise her up, and bear her out!

Ha. Alas! she faints.

Arp. No, tyrant, 'tis in vain.

Oh! I am now beyond thy cruel power; The peaceful slumber of the grave is on me: Even all the tedious day of life I've wandered, Bewildered with misfortunes:

At length 'tis night, and I have reached my home.

Forgetting all the toils and troubles past, Weary I'll lay me down, and sleep, till-Oh!

Baj. Fly, ye slaves,

[She dies

And fetch me cordials! No, she shall not die! Spite of her sullen pride, I'll hold in life, And force her to be blest against her will.

Ha. Already 'tis beyond the power of art; For, see, a deadly cold has froze the blood, The pliant limbs grow stiff, and lose their use, And all the animating fire is quenched: Even beauty too is dead; an ashy pale Grows o'er the roses; the red lips have lost Their fragrant hue, for want of that sweet breath,

That blest them with its odours as it past.

Baj. Can it be possible? Can rage and grief, Can love and indignation be so fierce, So mortal in a woman's heart? Confusion! Is she escaped then? What is royalty, If those, that are my slaves, and should live for

me,

Can die, and bid defiance to my power?
Enter the Dervise.

Der. The valiant Omar sends, to tell thy

greatness

The hour of flight is come, and urges haste; Since he descries, near Tamerlane's pavilion, Bright troops of crowding torches, who from thence,

On either hand, stretch far into the night, And seem to form a shining front of battle. Behold, even from this place thou mayʼst discern them. [Looking out. Baj. By Alla, yes! they cast a day around them,

And the plain seems thick-set with stars, # heaven.

Ha! or my eyes are false, they move this way; 'Tis certain so. Fly, Haly, to our daughter. [Exit HALI

Let some secure the Christian prince, Axalla; We will begone this minute.

Enter OMAR.

Om. Lost! undone!

Baj. What mean'st thou ?

Om. All our hopes of flight are lost. Mirvan and Zama, with the Parthian horse, Inclose us round; they hold us in a toil.

Baj. Ha! whence this unexpected curse of chance?

Om. Too late I learnt, that early in the night A slave was suffered, by the princess' order, To pass the guard. I clove the villain down, Who yielded to his flight; but that's poor ven

geance.

That fugitive has raised the camp upon us,
And unperceiv'd by favour of the night,
In silence they have marched to intercept us.
Baj. My daughter! Oh, the traitress!
Der. Yet we have

Axalla in our power, and angry Tamerlane
Will buy his favourite's life on any terms.

Om. With those few friends I have, I for a while

Can face their force: if they refuse us peace, Revenge shall sweeten ruin, and 'twill joy me, To drag my foe down with me, in my fall.

[Exit OMAR.

her bands!

Thou art my bane, thou witch! thou infant parricide!

But I will study to be strangely cruel;
I will forget the folly of my fondness;
Drive all the father from my breast; now snatch
thee,

Tear thee to pieces, drink thy treacherous blood,
And make thee answer all my great revenge!
Now, now, thou traitress! Offers to kill her.
Sel. Plunge the poniard deep!

She embraces him. The life my father gave shall hear his summons, And issue at the wound!Start not to feel

safe.

Baj. Away! my soul disdains the vile dependence!

No, let me rather die, die like a king!
Shall I fall down at the proud Tartar's foot,
And say, have mercy on me? Hark! they come!

[Shout. Disgrace will overtake my lingering hand; Die then! Thy father's shame, and thine, die with thee! [Offers to kill her. Sel. For Heaven, for pity's sake! Baj. No more, thou trifler!

[She catches hold of his arm: Ha! dar'st thou bar my will?-Tear off her

hold!

When nature teaches even the brute creation
To hold fast that, her best, her noblest gift?
Look on my eyes, which you so oft have kissed,
And swore they were your best-lov'd queen's,
my mother's;

my

Behold them now streaming for mercy, mercy! Look on me, and deny me, if you can! 'Tis but for life I beg! Is that a boon So hard for me to obtain, or you to grant? Oh, spare me! Spare your Selima, my father! Baj. A lazy sloth hangs on my resolution: It is Selima!-Ha! What, my child! And can I murder her? Dreadful imagination!— Again they come! I leave her to my foes! [Shouts. And shall they triumph o'er the race of Bajazet! Die, Selima!-Is that a father's voice?— Rouse, rouse, my fury! Yes, she dies, the victim To my lost hopes! Out, out, thou foolish nature!

Seize her, ye slaves! and strangle her this moment! [To the Mutes.

Sel. Oh, let me die, by you! Behold my

breast!

I would not shrink! Oh, save me but from these!

Baj. Dispatch!

[The Mutes seize her. Sel. But for a moment, while I pray That Heaven may guard my royal father! Buj. Dogs!

Sel. That you may only bless me, ere I die! [Shout

Baj. Ye tedious villains! then the work is mine!

[AS BAJAZET runs at SELIMA, with his sword, enter TAMERLANE, Axalla, &c. AXALLA gets between BAJAZET and SELIMA, whilst TAMERLANE and the rest drive BAJAZET and the Mutes off the Stage.

Ar. And am I come to save thee? Oh, my
joy!

Be this the whitest hour of all my life!
This one success is more than all my wars,
The noblest, dearest glory of my sword.

Sel. Alas, Axalla! Death has been around me;
My coward soul still trembles at the fright,
And seems but half secure, even in thy arms.
Ax. Retire, my fair, and let me guard thee
forth:

Blood and tumultuous slaughter are about us,
And danger, in her ugliest forms, is here;
Nor will the pleasure of my heart be full,
Till all my fears are ended in thy safety.

[Exeunt AXALLA and SELIMA.

Enter TAMERLANE, the Prince of TANAIS, ZAMA, MIRVAN, and Soldiers; with BAJAZET, OMAR, and the Dervise, prisoners.

Tam. Mercy at length gives up her peaceful sceptre,

And justice sternly takes her turn to govern; 'Tis a rank world, and asks her keenest sword, To cut up villany of monstrous growth. Zama, take care, that with the earliest dawn, Those traitors meet the fate their treason merits. [Pointing to OMAR and the Dervise. For thee, thou tyrant! [To BAJ.] whose sive violence

oppres

Has ruined those thou shouldst protect at home;

Whose wars, whose slaughters, whose assassinations,

(That basest thirst of blood! that sin of cowards!) Whose faith, so often given, and always violated, Have been the offence of Heaven, and plague of earth-

What punishment is equal to thy crimes?
The doom, thy rage designed for me, be thine:
Closed in a cage, like some destructive beast,
I'll have thee borne about, in public view,
A great example of that righteous vengeance,
That waits on cruelty, and pride, like thine.

Baj. It is beneath me to decline my fate;
I stand prepar'd to meet thy utmost hate.
Yet think not I will long thy triumph see:
None want the means, when the soul dares be
free.

I'll curse thee with my last, my parting breath,
And keep the courage of my life, in death;
Then boldly venture on that world unknown:
It cannot use me worse than this has done.
[Exit BAJAZET, guarded.

Tam. Behold the vain effects of earth-born

Too well we saw what must have been our fate,
When harmony with beauty join'd, of late,
Threaten'd the ruins of our sinking state;
Till from whom our being we receive,
you,
In pity bid your own creation live;

With moving sounds you kindly drew the fair,
And fix'd, once more, that shining circle here:
The lyre you bring is half Apollo's praise;
Be ours the task to win and wear his bays.
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 or
France:

'Twas verse decay'd, or politics improv'd,
That had estrang'd you thus from what you
lov'd.

Time was when busy faces were a jest,
When wit and pleasure were in most request;

Another, that the tax and war may cease, Talks of the duke of Anjou's right and peace, And, from Spain's wise example, is for taking A viceroy of the mighty monarch's making; Who should all rights and liberties maintain, And English laws by learn'd dragoons explain Come, leave these politics, and follow wit;

There, uncontroll'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.

VOL. I.

2 N