O save me, Phocyas! thou hast saved my father;
Must I yet call him so, this cruel father-
How wilt thou now deliver poor Eudocia?

Pho. See, how we're joined in exile! How our fate

Conspires to warn us both to leave this city!
Thou knowest the emperor is now at Antioch;
I have an uncle there, who, when the Persian,
As now the Saracen, had nigh o'er run
The ravaged empire, did him signal service,
And nobly was rewarded. There, Eudocia,
Thou might'st be safe, and we may meet with
justice.

Eud. There-any where, so we may fly this place.

See, Phocyas, what thy wrongs and mine have wrought

In a weak woman's frame! for I have courage To share thy exile now through every danger. Danger is only here, and dwells with guilt, With base ingratitude, and hard oppression.

Pho. Then let us lose no time, but hence this night.

The gates I can command, and will provide
The means of our escape. Some five hours hence
(Twill then be turned of midnight) we may meet
In the piazza of Honoria's convent.

Eud. I know it well; the place is most secure,
And near adjoining to this garden wall.
There thou shalt find me-O protect us, Heaven!

Pho. Fear not;-thy innocence will be our guard. I've thought already how to shape our course; Some pitying angel will attend thy steps, Guide thee unseen, and charm the sleeping foe, Till thou art safe! O, I have suffered nothing! Thus gaining thee, and this great generous proof, How blest I am in my Eudocia's love! My only joy, farewell!

Eud. Farewell, my Phocyas!

I have no friend but thee--yet thee I'll call Friend, father, lover, guardian !-Thou art all! [Exeunt.

SCENE I-Caled's Tent.

Abu. I have walked

Well, then, thou shalt have mercy to requite thee;
Behold, I'll send thee forward on thy errand.
Strike off his head; then cast it o'er the gates;
There let thy tongue tell o'er its tale again.
Serg. O, bloody Saracens !

[Exit Serg. dragged away by the Guards.
Enter ABUDAH,

Cal. Abudah, welcome!

Abu. O Caled, what an evening was the last! Cal. Name it no more; remembrance sickens with it,

And therefore sleep is banished from this night;
Nor shall to-morrow's sun open his eyes
Upon our shame, ere doubly we've redeemed it.
Ilave all the captains notice?

What must be done?

Cal. Thou know'st the important news, Which we have intercepted by this slave, Of a new army's march. The time now calls, While these soft Syrians are dissolved in riot, Fooled with success, and not suspecting danger, Neglectful of their watch, or else fast bound In chains of sleep, companion of debauches, To form a new attack ere break of day; So, like the wounded leopard, shall we rush From out our covers on these drowsy hunters, And seize them, unprepared to 'scape our vengeance.

Abu. Great captain of the armies of the faithful!

I know thy mighty and unconquered spirit;
Yet hear me, Caled, hear and weigh my doubts.
Our angry prophet frowns upon our vices,
And visits us in blood. Why else did terror,
Unknown before, seize all our stoutest bands?
The angel of destruction was abroad;
The archers of the tribe of Thoal fled,
So long renowned, or spent their shafts in vain ;
The feathered flight erred through the boundless
air,

Or the death turned on him that drew the bow!
What can this bode?-Let me speak plainer yet;
Is it to propagate the unspotted law
We fight? 'Tis well; it is a noble cause;
But much, I fear, infection is among us;
A boundless lust of rapine guides our troops.
We learn the christian vices we chastise,
And, tempted with the pleasures of the soil,
More than with distant hopes of paradise,

Our prophet only chides our sluggard valour.
Thou sawest how, in the vale of Honan, once
The troops, as now defeated, fled confused,
Even to the gates of Mecca's holy city:
Till Mahomet himself there stopped their en-
trance,

A javelin in his hand, and turned them back
Upon the foe; they fought again, and conquered.
Behold how we may best appease his wrath!
His own example points us out the way.

Abu. Well-be it then resolved. The indulgent hour

Of better fortune is, I hope, at hand.

And yet, since Phocyas has appeared its champion,

How has this city raised its drooping head!
As if some charm prevailed where'er he fought,
Our strength seems withered, and our feeble

weapons

Forget their wonted triumph-were he absentCal. I would have sought him out in the last

action

To single fight, and put that charm to proof,
Had not a foul and sudden mist arose
Ere I arrived, to have restored the combat.
But let it be 'tis past. We yet may meet,
And 'twill be known whose arm is then the
stronger.

Enter DARAN.

Dar. Health to the race of Ismael! and days More prosperous than the last—a christian captive

Is fallen within my watch, and waits his doom. Cal. Bring forth the slave !-0 thou keen vulture, Death!

Do we then feed thee only thus by morsels!
Whole armies never can suffice thy anger.

His eyes are fixed on earth; some deep distress
Is at his heart. This is no common captive.
Cal. A lion in the toils! We soon shall tame
him.

Still art thou dumb?-Nay, 'tis in vain to cast
Thy gloomy looks so oft around this place,
Or frown upon thy bonds-thou canst not 'scape.
Pho. Then be it so-the worst is past already,
And life is now not worth a moment's pause.
Do you not know me yet-think of the man
You have most cause to curse, and I am he.
Cal. Ha! Phocyas?

Abu. Phocyas-Mahomet, we thank thee! Now dost thou smile again.

Dar. [Aside.] O devil, devil!

And I not know him!-'twas but yesterday
He killed my horse, and drove me from the field.
Now I'm revenged! No; hold you there, not
yet,

friends,

By this event.

Cal. I tell thee, then, thou wrong'st us, To think our hearts thus steeled, or our ears deaf To all that thou mayest utter. Speak, disclose The secret woes that throb within thy breast. Now, by the silent hours of night, we'll hear thee,

And mute attention shall await thy words.

Pho. This is not, then, the palace in Damascus !

If you will hear, then I, indeed, have wronged you.

How can this be?-when he, for whom I've fought,

Fought against you, has yet refused to hear me! You seem surprised.--It was ingratitude

That drove me out an exile from those walls, Which I so late defended.

Abu. Can it be?

Are these thy Christian friends?

Cal. 'Tis well-we thank them:

They help us to subdue themselves—But who Was the companion of thy flight?—A woman? So Daran said

Pho. 'Tis there I am most wretched

Oh! I am torn from all my soul held dear,
And my life's blood flows out upon the wound!
That woman-'twas for her-How shall I speak
it?

Eudocia, Oh farewell!-I'll tell you, then,
As fast as these heart-rending sighs will let me;
I loved the daughter of the proud Eumenes,
And long in secret wooed her; not unwelcome
To her my visits; but I feared her father,
Who oft had pressed her to detested nuptials,
And therefore durst not, till this night of joy,
Avow to him my courtship. Now, I thought her
Mine, by a double claim, of mutual vows,
And service yielded at his greatest need:
When, as I moved my suit, with sour disdain,
He mocked my service, and forbade my love;
Degraded me from the command I bore,
And with defiance bade me seek the foe.
How has his curse prevailed!-The generous
maid

Was won, by my distress, to leave the city;
And cruel fortune made me thus your prey.
Abu. [Aside.] My soul is moved-Thou wert
a man, O prophet!

Forgive, if 'tis a crime, a human sorrow,
For injured worth, though in an enemy!
Pho. Now since you have heard my story,
set me free,

That I may save her yet, dearer than life,
From a tyrannic father's threatened force;
Gold, gems, and purple vests, shall pay my ran-

som;

Nor shall my peaceful sword henceforth be drawn In fight, nor break its truce with you for ever.

Cal. No-there's one way, a better, and but

one,

To save thyself, and make some reparation
For all the numbers thy bold hand has slain.
Pho. O, name it quickly, and my soul will bless
thee!

Cal. Embrace our faith, and share with us our fortunes.

Pho. Then I am lost again!

Cal. What! when we offer

Not freedom only, but to raise thee high
To greatness, conquest, glory, heavenly bliss!
Pho. To sink me down to infamy, perdition,
Here and hereafter! Make my name a curse
To present times, to every future age

A proverb and a scorn!--take back thy mercy,
And know I now disdain it.

Cal. As thou wilt.

The time's too precious to be wasted longer

In words with thee. Thou know'st thy doomfarewell.

Abu. [To Cal. Aside.] Hear me, Caled! grant
him some short space;

Perhaps he will at length accept thy bounty.
Try him, at least-

Cal. Well-be it so, then. Daran,

Guard well thy charge-Thou hast an hour to live;

If thou art wise, thou may'st prolong that term;
If not-why-Fare thee well, and think of death.
[Exeunt Cal. and Abu.
Pho. [Dar. waiting at a distance.] Farewell,
and think of death! Was it not so?
Do murderers then preach morality ?————
But how to think of what the living know not,
And the dead cannot, or else may not tell?-
What art thou, O thou great mysterious terror!
The way to thee we know! disease, famine,
Sword, fire, and all thy ever-open gates,
That day and night stand ready to receive us.
But what's beyond them?-Who will draw that
veil?

Yet death's not there-No; it is a point of time,
The verge 'twixt mortal and immortal beings.
It mocks our thoughts! On this side all is life;
And when we have reached it, in that very instant
'Tis past the thinking of! Oh! if it be
The pangs, the throes, the agonizing struggles
When soul and body part, sure I have felt it,
And there's no more to fear.

Dar. [Aside.] Suppose I now
Dispatch him!-Right-What need to stay for

orders?

I wish I durst!-Yet what I dare I'll do. Your jewels, christian-You'll not need these trifles[Searching him. Pho. I pray thee, slave, stand off-My soul's too busy

To lose a thought on thee.

Enter ABUDAH.

Abu. What's this?-forbear! Who gave thee leave to use this violence? [Takes the jewels from him, and lays them on a table.

Dar. [Aside.] Denied my booty? Curses on his head!

Was not the founder of our law a robber?
Why 'twas for that I left my country's gods,
Menaph and Uzza. Better still be pagan,
Than starve with a new faith.

Abu. What, dost thou mutter? Daran, withdraw, and better learn thy duty. [Exit Dar.

Phocyas, perhaps thou knowest me not

Pho. I know

Thy name Abudah, and thy office here,
The second in command. What more thou art
Indeed I cannot tell.

Abu. True, for thou yet
Knowest not I am thy friend.