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Amidst the sweat and blood of yonder field,
When, thro' the tumult of the war I sought thee,
Fenc'd in with nations.

Baj. Curse upon the stars
That fated us to different scenes of slaughter !
Oh ! could my sword have met thee !-

Tam. Thou hadst then,
As now, been in my pow'r, and held thy life
Dependent on my gift-Yes, Bajazet,
I bid thee, live.
Nay more; couldst thou forget thy brutal fierceness,
And form thyself to manhood, I would bid thee
Live, and be still a king,
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, may’st offer
With honour, I with honour may receive.

Baj. Ha! say'st thou-no-our prophet's vengeance If thou shalt buy my friendship with thy empire. Thou smooth fawning talker ! Give me again my chains, that I may curse thee, And gratify my rage: or, if thou wilt Be a vain fool, and play with thy perdition, Remember I'm thy foe, and hate thee deadly. Thy folly on thy head!

Tam. Be still my foe. Great minds, like Heav'n, are pleas'd in doing good, Tho' the ungrateful subjects of their favours Are barren in return: 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 all but BAJAZET and OMAR

blast me,

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.

Omar, Our royal master would with noble usage,
Make your misfortunes light: he bids you hope-
Baj. I tell thee, slave, I have shook hands with

hope, And all my thoughts are rage, despair, and horror.

[Exit OMAR. Ha! wherefore am I thus ?- Perdition seize me! But my

cold blood runs shiv'ring to my heart, The rage and fiercer passions of my

breast Are lost in new confusion.

Enter Haly and ARPASIA.

Arpasia !-Haly !
Haly. Oh, emperor! for whose hard fate our pro-

phet
And all the heros of thy sacred race
Are sad in paradise, thy faithful Haly,
The slave of all thy pleasures, in this ruin,
This universal shipwreck of thy fortunes,
Has gather'd up this treasure for thy arms:
Nor ev'n the victor, haughty Tamerlane,
(By whose command once more thy slave beholds

thee) Denies this blessing to thee, but, with honour, Renders thee back thy queen, thy beauteous bride.

Baj. Oh! had her eyes, with pity, seen my sorrows, Had she the softness of a tender bride, Heav'n 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 dar’st thou hope, thou tyrant ! ravisher !
That Heav'n has any joy in store for thee?
Look back upon the sum of thy past life,
Where lost Arpasia's wrongs stand bleeding fresh,
Thy last recorded crime. But Heav'n has found thee;
At length the tardy vengeance has o'erta'en thee.
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 rail'st! I thank thee for it-Be per-

verse,
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. [Starting.) Ha! Keep thy temper, heart; nor take

alarm At a slave's presence.

Mon. It is Arpasia !-- Leave me, thou cold fear. Sweet as the rosy morn she breaks upon me,

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,

And sorrow,

Couldst 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 dar'st 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; Ev'n 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. Ha ! yet there's some revenge. Hear me, thou chris.

tian ! Thou left'st that sister with me:-Thou impostor! 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 Musties lie not) wander thus in hell ;

From scorching flames to chilling frosts they run,
Then 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. By all the tenderness and chaste endearments Of our past love, I charge thee, my Arpasia, To ease my soul of doubts! Give me to know, At once, the utmost malice of my fate !

Arp. Take, then, thy wretched share in all I suffer, Still partner of my heart! Scarce hadst thou left The sultan's camp, when the imperious tyrant, Soft'ning 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

pris'ners, I forc'd thee to put on Thy borrow'd name of brother, mine of sister; Hiding beneath that veil the nearer tie Our mutual vows had made before the priest. Kindling to rage at hearing of my story, Then, be it so, he cry'd : Think'st thou thy vows, Giv'n 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 pow'rs of Heav'n to aid me.

Mon. Villain! Imperial villain!-Oh, the coward! Aw'd by his guilt, though back'd by force and

power, He durst noi, to my face, avow his purpose

D

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