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! Where lost Arpasia's wrongs stand bleeding fresh, The pain of life, to call for justice on 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, 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, Nor shouldst thou wonder that my sword has fail'd 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, Baj. No-'tis false; Where is my daughter, thou vile Greek? Thou hast Pale with thy fear, didst lose her like a coward; Mon. Ha! saidst thou, like a coward? Hast thou put on, to guard thee from my rage, And know me for thy lord Mon. I tell thee, tyrant, When, in the pride of power, thou sat'st on high, 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 christian! Thou left'st that sister with me:- -Thou impostor! Now to explore my prison-If it holds From scorching flames to chilling frosts they run, 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; Our mutual vows had made before the priest. Then, be it so, he cry'd: Think'st thou thy vows, Mon. Villain! Imperial villain!-Oh, the coward! Aw'd by his guilt, though back'd by force and power, He durst not, to my face, avow his purpose D 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 means of death, Forgetting all the rules of christian suffering, I had done a desp'rate murder on my soul, Mon. Stop thee there, Arpasia, And bar my fancy from the guilty scene! Arp. And who shall render back my peace, my honour, The spotless whiteness of my virgin soul? 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! [Exeunt, severally. ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. The Inside of the Royal Tent. Enter AXALLA and SELIMA. Ar. Why was I ever blest!—Why is remembrance Rich with a thousand pleasing images Of past enjoyments, since 'tis but plague to me? To think that thou wert kind, and I was happy? Ar. But see, the sultan comes ! Enter BAJAZET. Baj. To have a nauseous courtesy forc'd on me, Spite of my will, by an insulting foe! Ha! they would break the fierceness of my temper, |