Omen of prosperous battle.
Impatient of the tedious night, in arms
Watchful they stood, expecting opening day;
And now are hardly by their leaders held
From darting on the foe. Like a hot courser,
That, bounding, paws the mouldering soil, dis-
daining

The rein that checks him, eager for the race.
Tum. Yes, prince, I mean to give a loose to

war.

This morn Axalla, with my Parthian horse, Arrives to join me. He, who, like a storm, Swept, with his flying squadrons, all the plains Between Angoria's walls and yon tall mountains, That seem to reach the clouds; and now he

comes,

Loaden with spoils and conquest, to my aid.
[Flourish of Trumpets.
Zam. These trumpets speak his presence-
Enter AXALLA, who kneels to TAMERLANE.
Tam. Welcome! thou worthy partner of my
laurels,

Thou brother of my choice, a band more sacred
Than nature's brittle tie! By holy friendship,
Glory and fame stood still for thy arrival!
My soul seemed wanting in its better half,
And languished for thy absence; like a prophet,
That waits the inspiration of his god.

Ax. My emperor! My ever royal master!
To whom my secret soul more lowly bends,
Than forms of outward worship can express;
How poorly does your soldier pay this goodness,
Who wears his every hour of life out for you!
Yet 'tis his all, and what he has, he offers;
Nor now disdain to accept the gift he brings,
Enter SELIMA, MONESES, STRATOCLES, Pri-
soners; Guards, Mutes, &c.

This earnest of your fortune. See, my lord,
The noblest prize that ever graced my arms!
Approach, my fair————

Tam. This is indeed to conquer,
And well to be rewarded for thy conquest;
The bloom of opening flowers, unsullied beauty,
Softness, and sweetest innocence she wears,
And looks like nature in the world's first spring.
But say, Axalla-

Sel. Most renowned in war,

[Kneeling to TAM. Look with compassion on a captive maid, Though born of hostile blood; nor let my birth, Derived from Bajazet, prevent that mercy, Which every subject of your fortune finds. War is the province of ambitious man, Who tears the miserable world for empire; Whilst our weak sex, incapable of wrong, On either side claims privilege of safety, Tam. [raising her.] Rise, royal maid! the pride of haughty power Pays homage, not receives it, from the fair. Thy angry father fiercely calls me forth, And urges me, unwillingly, to arins.

Yet, though our frowning battles menace death, And mortal conflict, think not that we hold

Thy innocence and virtue as our foe.
Here, till the fate of Asia is decided,
In safety stay. To-morrow is your own.
Nor grieve for who may conquer, or who lose;
Fortune on either side shall wait thy wishes.
Sel. Where shall my wonder and my praise
begin?

From the successful labours of thy arms,
Or from a theme more soft, and full of peace,
Thy mercy and thy gentleness? Oh, Tamerlane!
What can I pay thee for this noble usage,
But grateful praise? So Heaven itself is paid.
Give peace, ye powers above, peace to mankind;
Nor let my father wage unequal war,
Against the force of such united virtues!
Tam. Heaven hear thy pious wish!-But since
our prospect

Looks darkly on futurity, till fate
Determine for us, let thy beauty's safety
Be my Axalla's care; in whose glad eyes,
I read what joy the pleasing service gives him.-
Is there amongst thy other prisoners aught

Worthy our knowledge?

Ar. This brave man, my lord,

Το Α..

[Pointing to Mox With long resistance held the combat doubtful His party, prest with numbers, soon grew faint, And would have left their charge an easy prey; Whilst he alone, undaunted at the odds, Though hopeless to escape, fought well and

firmly;

It should be Tamerlane.

Tam. A noble freedom

O, royal sir! let my misfortunes plead,
And wipe away the hostile mark I wore.

I was, when, not long since, my fortune hailed me,
Blessed to my wish, I was the prince Moneses;
Born, and bred up to greatness: witness the blood,
Which through successive heroes' veins, allied
To our Greek emperors, rolled down to me,
Feeds the bright flame of glory in my heart.
Tam. Even that, that princely tie should bind
thee to me,

If virtue were not more than all alliance.

Mon. I have a sister,-oh, severe remembrance!
Our noble house's, nay, her sex's pride;
Nor think my tongue too lavish, if I speak her
Fair as the fame of virtue, and yet chaste
As its cold precepts; wise beyond her sex
And blooming youth; soft as forgiving mercy,
Yet greatly brave, and jealous for her honour:
Such as she was, to say I barely loved her,
Is poor to my soul's meaning. From our infancy,
There grew a mutual tenderness between us,
Till, not long since, her vows were kindly plighted
To a young lord, the equal of her birth.

The happy day was fixed, and now approaching,
When faithless Bajazet (upon whose honour,
In solemn treaty given, the Greeks depended,)
With sudden war, broke in upon the country,
Secure of peace, and for defence unready.

Tam. Let majesty no more be held divine, Since kings, who are called gods, profane themselves.

Mon. Among the wretches, whom that deluge swept

Away to slavery, myself and sister,

Then passing near the frontiers to the court,
Which waited for her nuptials) were surprised,
And made the captives of the tyrant's power.
Soon as we reached his court, we found our usage
Beyond what we expected, fair and noble;
Twas then the storm of your victorious arms
Looked black, and seemed to threaten, when he
prest me

(By oft repeating instances) to draw

My sword for him:. But when he found my soul
Disdained his purpose, he more fiercely told me,
That my Arpasia, my loved sister's fate,
Depended on my courage shewn for him.
I had long learnt to hold myself at nothing;
But for her sake, to ward the blow from her,
I bound my service to the man I hated.
Six days are past, since, by the sultan's order,
I left the pledge of my return behind,
And went to guard this princess to his camp:
The rest the brave Axalla's fortune tells you.
Tum. Wisely the tyrant strove to prop his

cause,

By leaguing with thy virtue; but just Heaven

I could as well restore that fair one's freedom, Whose loss hangs heavy on thee: yet ere night, Perhaps, we may deserve thy friendship nobler; The approaching storm may cast thy shipwrecked wealth

Back to thy arms: till that be past, since war (Though in the justest cause) is ever doubtful, I will not ask thy sword to aid my victory, Lest it should hurt that hostage of thy valour, Our common foe detains.

Mon. Let Bajazet

Bend to his yoke repining slaves by force; You, sir, have found a nobler way to empire, Lord of the willing world.

Tam. Oh, my Axalla!

Thou hast a tender soul, apt for compassion,
And art thyself a lover and a friend;
Does not this prince's fortune move thy temper?

Ar. Yes, sir, I mourn the brave Moneses' fate,
The merit of his virtue hardly matched
With disadventurous chance: yet, prince, allow

me,

Allow me, from the experience of a lover, To say, one person, whom your story mentioned, (If he survive) is far beyond you wretched: You named the bridegroom of your beauteous sister.

Mon. I did. Oh, most accurst!

Ar. Think what he feels,

Dashed in the fierceness of his expectation:
Then, when the approaching minute of possession
Had wound the imagination to the height-
Think, if he lives!

Mon. He lives! he does: 'tis true
He lives! But how? To be a dog, and dead,
Were Paradise to such a state as his :

He holds down life, as children do a potion, With strong reluctance and convulsive strugglings,

Whilst his misfortunes press him to disgorge it. Tum. Spare the remembrance; 'tis an useless grief,

And adds to the misfortune by repeating.
The revolution of a day may bring
Such turns, as Heaven itself could scarce have
promised,

Far, far beyond thy wish: let that hope cheer thec.
Haste, my Axalla, to dispose with safety
Thy beauteous charge, and on the foe revenge
The pain which absence gives; thy other care,
Honour and arins, now summon thy attendance.
Now do thy office well, my soul! Remember
Thy cause, the cause of Heaven and injured earth.
O thou Supreme! if thy great spirit warms
My glowing breast, and fires my soul to arms,
Grant that my sword, assisted by thy power,
This day may peace and happiness restore,
That war and lawless rage may vex the world no
more!

[Exeunt TAMERLANE, MONESES, Stra-
TOCLES, Prince of TANAIS, ZAMA, MIR-
VAN, and Attendants.

Ar. The battle calls, and bids me haste to leave thee;

Oh, Selima!-but let destruction wait.

Are there not hours enough for blood and slaughter?

This moment shall be love's, and I will waste it
In soft complainings, for thy sighs and coldness,
For thy forgetful coldness; even at Birza,
When in thy father's court my eyes first owned
thee,

Fairer than light, the joy of their beholding,
Even then thou wert not thus.

Sel. Art not thou changed,

Christian Axalla? Art thou still the same?
Those were the gentle hours of peace, and thou
The world's good angel, that didst kindly join
Its mighty masters in harmonious friendship:
But since those joys that once were ours are lost,
Forbear to mention them, and talk of war;
Talk of thy conquests and my chains, Axalla.
Ar. Yet I will listen, fair, unkind upbraider!
Yet I will listen to thy charming accents,
Although they make me curse my fame and for-
tune,

My laurel wreaths, and all the glorious trophies, For which the valliant bleed-Oh, thou unjust one !

Dost thou then envy me this small return
My niggard fate has made, for all the mournings,
For all the pains, for all the sleepless nights,
That cruel absence brings?

Sel. Away, deceiver!

I will not hear thy soothing. Is it thus
That Christian lovers prove the faith they swear?
Are war and slavery the soft endearments,
With which they court the beauties they admire?
'Twas well my heart was cautious of believing
Thy vows, and thy protesting. Know, my con-

queror,

Thy sword has vanquished but the half of Selima; Her soul disdains thy victory.

Ar. Hear, sweet heaven!

Hear the fair tyrant, how she wrests love's laws,
As she had vowed my ruin! What is conquest?
What joy have I from that, but to behold thee,
To kneel before thee, and, with lifted eyes,
To view thee, as devotion does a saint,
With awful, trembling pleasure; then to swear
Thou art the queen and mistress of my soul?
Has not even Tamerlane (whose word, next
Heaven's,

Makes fate at second-hand) bid thee disclaim
Thy fears? And dost thou call thyself a slave,
Only to try how far the sad impression
Can sink into Axalla?

Sel. Oh, Axalla!

Ought I to hear you?

Ar. Come back, ye hours,

And tell my Selima what she has done!
Bring back the time, when to her father's court
I came, ambassador of peace from Tamerlane;
When, hid by conscious darkness and disguise,
I past the dangers of the watchful guards,
Bold as the youth who nightly swam the Helles-
pont:

Sel. Swear then to perform it, Which way soe'er the chance of war determines, On my first instance.

Ar. By the sacred majesty

Of heaven, to whom we kneel, I will obey thee!
Yes, I will give thee this severest proof
Of my soul's vowed devotion; I will part with
thee,

(Thou cruel, to command it!) I will part with thee,
As wretches, that are doubtful of hereafter,
Part with their lives, unwilling, loth, and fearful,
And trembling at futurity. But is there nothing,
No small return that honour can afford,
For all this waste of love?

Sel. The gifts of captives
Wear somewhat of constraint; and generous

minds

And the first feeble blow I meet shall raze me
From all remembrance: nor is life or fame
Worthy my care, since I am lost to thee. [Going.
Sel. Ha! goest thou to the fight?
Ar. I do. Farewell!

Sel. What! and no more! A sigh heaves in
my breast,

And stops the struggling accents on my tongue, Else, sure, I should have added something more, And made our parting softer.

Ax. Give it way..

The niggard honour, that affords not love,
Forbids not pity.

Sel. Fate perhaps has set

This day, the period of thy life and conquests;
And I shall see thee, borne at evening back,
A breathless corse.Oh! can I think on that,
And hide my sorrows?-No-they will have way,
And all the vital air, that life draws in,
Is rendered back in sighs.

Ar. The murmuring gale revives the drooping
flame,

That at thy coldness languished at my breast:
So breathe the gentle zephyrs on the spring,
And waken every plant, and odorous flower,
Which winter frost had blasted, to new life.
Sel. To see thee for this moment, and no

more

Oh! help me to resolve against this tenderness, That charms my fierce resentments, and presents thee,

Not as thou art, mine and my father's foe,
But as thou wert, when first thy moving accents
Won me to hear; when, as I listened to thee,
The happy hours past by us unperceived,
So was my soul fixt to the soft enchantment.

Ar. Let me be still the same! I am, I must be.
If it were possible my heart could stray,
One look from thee would call it back again,
And fix the wanderer for ever thine.

Sel. Where is my boasted resolution now? [Sinking into his arms. Oh, yes! thou art the same; my heart joins with thee,

And, to betray me, will believe thee still:
It dances to the sounds that moved it first,
And owns at once the weakness of my soul.

So when some skilful artist strikes the strings,
The magic numbers rouse our sleeping passions,
And force us to confess our grief and pleasure.
Alas! Axalla, say-dost thou not pity
My artless innocence, and easy fondness?
Oh! turn thee from me, or I die with blushing?
Ar. No, let me rather gaze, for ever gaze,
And bless the new-born glories that adorn thee!
From every blush that kindles in thy cheeks,
Ten thousand little loves and graces spring,
To revel in the roses-'twill not be,

[Trumpets.

This envious trumpet calls, and tears me from thee

Sel. My fears increase, and doubly press me

now:

I charge thee, if thy sword comes cross my father,

Stop for a moment, and remember me.

Ar. Oh, doubt not but his life shall be my care; Even dearer than my own

Sel. Guard that for me too.

Ar. O, Selima! thou hast restored my quiet. The noble ardour of the war, with love Returning, brightly burns within my breast, And bids me be secure of all hereafter. So cheers some pious saint a dying sinner (Who trembled at the thought of pains to come) With Heaven's forgiveness, and the hopes of

Sel. In vain all arts a love-sick virgin tries, Affects to frown, and seem severely wise, In hopes to cheat the wary lover's eyes. If the dear youth her pity strives to move, And pleads with tenderness, the cause of love, Nature asserts her empire in her heart, And kindly takes the faithful lover's part. By love herself, and nature, thus betrayed, No more she trusts in pride's fantastic aid, But bids her eyes confess the yielding maid. [Exit SELIMA, Guards following.

I mixt among the tumult of the warriors
Returning from the battle: here, a troop
Of hardy Parthians, red with honest wounds,
Confessed the conquest they had well deserved:
There, a dejected crew of wretched captives,
Sore with unprofitable hurts, and groaning
Under new bondage, followed sadly after
The haughty victor's heels. But that, which fully
Crowned the success of Tamerlane, was Bajazet,
Fallen, like the proud archangel, from the height
Where once (even next to majesty divine)
Enthroned he sat, down to the vile descent
And lowness of a slave: but, oh! to speak
The rage, the fierceness, and the indignation!
It bars all words, and cuts description short.
Mon. Then he is fallen! that comet which on
high

Portended ruin; he has spent his blaze,
And shall distract the world with fears no more.
Sure it must bode me well; for oft my soul
Has started into tumult at his name,
As if my guardian angel took the alarm,
At the approach of somewhat mortal to me.
But say, my friend, what hear'st thou of Arpasia?
For there my thoughts, my every care is cen-
tered.

Stra. Though on that purpose still I bent my
search,

Yet nothing certain could I gain, but this;
That in the pillage of the sultan's tent
Some women were made prisoners, who, this
morning,

Were to be offered to the emperor's view :
Their names and qualities, though oft enquiring,
I could not learn.

Mon. Then must my soul still labour Beneath uncertainty and anxious doubt, The mind's worst state. The tyrant's ruin gives

me

But a half ease.

Stra. 'Twas said, not far from hence The captives were to wait the emperor's passage. Mon. Haste we to find the place.-Oh, my Arpasia!

Shall we not meet? Why hangs my heart thus heavy,

Like death, within my bosom? Oh! 'tis well,
The joy of meeting pays the pangs of absence,
Else who could bear it?

When thy loved sight shall bless my eyes again,
Then I will own I ought not to complain,
Since that sweet hour is worth whole years of pain.
[Exeunt MONESES and STRATOCLES.

SCENE II.-The inside of a magnificent Tent.
Symphony of warlike Music.
Enter TAMERLANE, AXALLA, Prince of TA-
NAIS, ZAMA, MIRVAN, Soldiers, and other
Attendants.

Ar. From this auspicious day the Parthian

name

Shall date its birth of empire, and extend Even from the dawning east to utmost Thule, The limits of its sway.

Pr. Nations unknown, Where yet the Roman eagle never flew, Shall pay their homage to victorious Tamerlane; Bend to his valour and superior virtue, And own, that conquest is not given by chance, But, bound by fatal and resistless merit, Waits on his arms.

Tum. It is too much you dress me Like an usurper, in the borrowed attributes Of injured Heaven. Can we call conquest ours! Shall man, this pigmy, with a giant's pride, Vaunt of himself, and say, Thus have I done this?"

Oh, vain pretence to greatness! Like the moon, We borrow all the brightness which we boast, Dark in ourselves, and useless. If that hand, That rules the fate of battles, strike for us, Crown us with fame, and gild our clay with ho

Om. Honour and fame [Bowing to TAMERLANE. For ever wait the emperor! May our prophet Give him ten thousand thousand days of life, And every day like this! The captive sultan, Fierce in his bonds, and at his fate repining, Attends your sacred will.

Tum. Let him approach.

Enter BAJAZET, and other Turkish Prisonere

in chains, with a guard of Soldiers. When I survey the ruins of this field, The wild destruction which thy fierce ambition Has dealt among mankind (so many widows And helpless orphans has thy battle made, That half our eastern world this day are mourn.

ers),

Well may I, in behalf of heaven and earth,
Demand from thee atonement for this wrong.
Baj. Make thy demand to those that own thy
power!

Know, I am still beyond it; and though Fortune
(Curse on that changeling deity of fools!)
Has stript me of the train and pomp of greatness,
That outside of a king, yet still my soul,
Fixt high, and of itself alone dependent,
Is ever free and royal, and even now,