Our Prophet speaks to thee in Thunder
[* The Dervile draw's a conceal'd Dagger and
offers to ftab Tamerlane.
TAMERLANE.
No, Villain, Heav'n is watchful o'er its Worshippers, [Wrefting the Dagger from him. And blafts the Murderer's Purpose Think thou Wretch, Think on the Pains that wait thy Crime, and tremble When I fhall doom thee
And I will fuffer greatly for the Cause
That urg'd me firft to the bold Deed.
TAMERLANE.
Enthufiafm thus makes Villains, Martyrs.
[Paufing.] It fhall be fo-To die! 'twere a Reward
Now learn the Difference 'twixt thy Faith and mine:
Thine bids thee lift thy Dagger to my Throat,
Mine can forgive the Wrong, and bid thee live..
Keep thy own wicked Secret, and be safe:
If thou continu'ft ftill to be the fame,
'Tis Punishment enough to be a Villain:
If thou repent'ft, I have gain'd one to Virtue,
And am, in that, rewarded for my Mercy.
Hence! from my Sight-It fhocks my Soul, to think
That there is fuch a Monster in my Kind. [Exit Dervise
Whither will Man's Impiety extend?
Oh gracious Heav'n! doft thou withold thy Thunder,
When bold Affaffins take thy Name upon 'em,
And fwear they are the Champions of thy Caufe?
Enter M o NE SE S..
MONESES.
Oh Emperor! before whofe awful Throne
Th' Afflicted never kneel in vain for Justice,
[Kneeling to Tamerlane..
Undone, and ruin'd, blafted in my Hopes,
Here let me fall before your facred Feet,
And groan out my Misfortunes, till your Pity,
(The laft Support and Refuge that is left me)
Shall raise me from the Ground, and bid me live.
TAMERLANE.
Rife, Prince, nor let me reckon up thy Worth,
And tell how boldly that might bid thee ask,
Left I should make a Merit of my Juftice,
The common Debt I owe to thee, to All,
Ev'n to the meaneft of Mankind, the Charter
By which I claim my Crown, and Heav'n's Protection:
Speak then as to a King, the Sacred Name
Where Pow'r is lodg'd, for Righteous Ends alone..
MONESES.
One only Joy, one Bleffing, my fond Heart
Had fix'd its Wishes on, and that is lost;
That Sifter, for whofe Safety my fad Soul.
Endur'd a thoufand Fears.
When, ere the Battle join'd, I faw thee first,
With Grief uncommon to a Brother's Love,
Thou told'ft a moving Tale of her Misfortunes,
Such as bespoke my Pity. Is there ought
Thou can'ft demand from Friendship? ask and have it,
MONESES.
First, oh! let me intreat your Royal Goodness.
Forgive the Folly of a Lover's Caution,
That forg'd a Tale of Falfhood to deceive you:
Said I, fhe was my Sifter?-Oh! 'tis false,
She holds a dearer Interest in my Soul,
Such as the clofeft Ties of Blood ne'er knew:
An Int'reft, fuch as Power, Wealth, and Honor
Can't buy, but Love, Love only can beftow;
She was the Mistress of my Vows, my Bride,.
By Contract mine; and long ere this the Prieft
Had ty'd the Knot for ever, had not Bajazet
TAMERLANE.
Ha! Bajazet!If yet his Pow'r withholds.
The Cause of all thy Sorrows, all thy Fears,.
E'en Gratitude for once fhall gain upon him,
Spite of his Savage Temper, to restore her.
This Morn a Soldier brought a Captive Beauty,
Sad tho' fhe feem'd, yet of a Form most rare,
By much the noblest Spoil of all the Field:.
Ev'n Scipio, or a Victor yet more cold,
Might have forgot his Virtue, at her Sight..
Struck with a pleasing Wonder, I beheld her,
Till by a Slave that waited near her Perfon,
I learnt she was the Captive Sultan's Wife ;
Strait I forbid my Eyes the dangerous Joy
Of gazing long, and fent her to her Lord.
MONESES.
There was Monefes loft,-Too fure my Heart (From the first mention of her wond'rous Charms). Prefag'd it cou'd be only my Arpafia..
Sure I mistake, or fain I would mistake thee..
I nam'd the Queen of Bajazet, his Wife.
His Queen! His Wife! He brings that Holy Title To varnish o'er the monftrous Wrongs he has done me..
Alas! I fear me, Prince, thy Griefs are just;, Thou art indeed unhappy
And not redress? Oh, Royal Tamerlane ! [* Kneeling,
Thou Succor of the Wretched, reach thy Mercy,
To fave me from the Grave, and from Oblivion;
Be gracious to the Hopes that wait my Youth,
Oh let not Sorrow blast me, left I wither,
And fall in vile Dishonor. Let thy Justice
Reftore me my Arpafia; give her back,
Back to my Wishes, to my Tranfports give her,
To my fond, reftlefs, bleeding, dying Bofom;
Oh! give her to me yet while I have Life
To bless thee for the Bounty. Oh, Arpafia!
TAMERLANE.
Unhappy Royal Youth, why doft thou ask
What Honor muft deny? Ha! Is fhe not
His Wife, whom he has wedded, whom enjoy'd?
And wouldst thou have my partial Friendship break.
That Holy Knot, which ty'd once, all Mankind
Agree to hold Sacred, and Undiffolveable?
The Brutal Violence would ftain my Justice,
And brand me with a Tyrant's hated Name:
To late Pofterity.
MONESES.
Are then the Vows.
The Holy Vows we regifter'd in Heav'n,
TAMERLANE.
Cou'd thy fond Love forget.
The Violation of a firft Enjoyment?
But Sorrow has disturb'd and hurt thy Mind.
Perhaps it has, and like an idle Madman, That wanders with a Train of hooting Boys, I do a thousand Things to fhame my Reafon. Then let me fly, and bear my Follies with me Far, far from the World's Sight; Honor and Fame, Arms, and the glorious War fhall be forgotten: No noble Sound of Greatnefs, or Ambition, Shall wake my drowzy Soul from her dead Sleep, Till the last Trump do fummon.
Stand up and answer to these warring Paffions,
That vex thy manly Temper. From the Moment
When firft I faw thee, fomething wondrous noble
Shone thro' thy Form, and won my Friendship for thee,
Without the tedious form of long Acquaintance;
Nor will I lofe thee poorly for a Woman.
Come droop no more, thou fhalt with me pursue
True Greatnefs, till we rife to Immortality;
Thou shalt forget thefe leffer Cares, Monefes,
Thou shalt, and help me to reform the World.
MONESES.
So the good Genius warns his mortal Charge,
To fly the evil Fate, that ftill purfies him,
Till it have wrought his Ruin. Sacred Tamerlane,
Thy Words are as the Breath of Angels to me:
But oh! too deep the wounding Grief is fixt
For any Hand to heal.
TAMERLANE.
This dull Despair
Is the Soul's Lazinefs: Rouse to the Combat,
And thou art fure to conquer. War fhall restore thee;
The Soul of Arms fhall wake thy martial Ardor,
And cure this amorous Sickness of thy Soul,
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