I have rush'd eager on, amidst the foremost,
To purchase victory, or glorious death.

Arp. If it be happiness, alas! to die,
To lie forgotten in the silent grave,
To love and glory lost, and from among
The great Creator's works expung'd and blotted,
Then, very shortly, shall we both be happy.
Mon. There is no room for doubt;"'tis cer-

tain bliss.

The tyrant's cruel violence, thy loss,
Already seem more light; nor has my soul
One unrepented guilt upon remembrance,
To make me dread the justice of hereafter;
But standing now on the last verge of life,
Boldly I view the last abyss, eternity,
Eager to plunge, and leave my woes behind me.
Arp. By all the truth of our past loves, I vow,
To die appears a very nothing to me.
But, oh, Moneses! should I not allow
Somewhat to love, and to my sex's tenderness?
This very now I could put off my being
Without a groan; but to behold thee die!
Nature shrinks in me at the dreadful thought,
Nor can my constancy sustain this blow.

Mon. Since thou art armed for all things after death,

Why should the pomp and preparation of it
Be frightful to thy eyes? There's not a pain,
Which age or sickness brings, the least disorder
That vexes any part of this fine frame,
But's full as grievous. All that the mind feels
Is much, much more. And see, I go to prove it.
Enter a Mute: he signs to the rest, who proffer
a bow-string to MONESES.

Arp. Think, ere we part!
Mon. Of what?

Arp. Of something soft,

Tender and kind, of something wondrous sad.
Oh, my full soul!

Mon. My tongue is at a loss; Thoughts crowd so fast, thy name is all I've left,

My kindest, truest, dearest, best Arpasia!
The Mutes struggle with him.
Arp. I have a thousand, thousand things to
utter,

A thousand more to hear yet. Barbarous villains!

Give me a minute. Speak to me, Moneses! Mon. Speak to thee? 'Tis the business of my life,

'Tis all the use I have for vital air. Stand off, ye slaves! To tell thee that my heart Is full of thee; that, even at this dread moment,

My fond eyes gaze with joy and rapture on thee; Angels, and light itself, are not so fair.

Enter BAJAZET, HALY, and Attendants. Baj. Ha! wherefore lives this dog? Be quick, ye slaves!

And rid me of my pain.
Mon. For only death,

And the last night, can shut out my Arpasia. [The Mutes strangle MONESK

Arp. Oh, dismal! 'tis not to be borne! Y: moralists!

Ye talkers! what are all your precepts now? Patience? distraction! Blast the tyrant, blas him,

Avenging lightnings! Snatch him hence, ye fiends!

Love! Death! Moneses! Nature can no more; Ruin is on her, and she sinks at once.

[She sinks down Baj. Help, Haly! raise her up, and bear be out!

And fetch me cordials! No, she shall not die!
Spite of her sullen pride, I'll hold in life,
And force her to be blest against her will.

Ha. Already 'tis beyond the power of art;
For, see, a deadly cold has froze the blood,
The pliant limbs grow stiff, and lose their use,
And all the animating fire is quenched:
Even beauty too is dead; an ashy pale
Grows o'er the roses; the red lips have lost
Their fragrant hue, for want of that sweet
breath,

That blest them with its odours as it past.

Baj. Can it be possible? Can rage and grief, Can love and indignation be so fierce, So mortal in a woman's heart? Confusion! Is she escaped then? What is royalty, If those, that are my slaves, and should live for

me,

Can die, and bid defiance to my power?

Enter the Dervise.

Der. The valiant Omar sends, to tell the greatness

The hour of flight is come, and urges haste; Since he descries, near Tamerlane's pavilion, Bright troops of crowding torches, who from thence,

On either hand, stretch far into the night, And seem to form a shining front of battle. Behold, even from this place thou may'st discern them. [Looking out.

Baj. By Alla, yes! they cast a day around them,

And the plain seems thick-set with stars, as heaven.

Ha! or my eyes are false, they move this way; 'Tis certain so. Fly, Haly, to our daughter. [Exit HALT

geance.

That fugitive has raised the camp upon us,
And unperceiv'd by favour of the night,
In silence they have marched to intercept us.
Baj. My daughter! Oh, the traitress!
Der. Yet we have

Axalla in our power, and angry Tamerlane
Will buy his favourite's life on any terms.

Om. With those few friends I have, I for a while

Can face their force: if they refuse us peace, Revenge shall sweeten ruin, and 'twill joy me, To drag my foe down with me, in my fall.

[Erit OMAR.

Enter HALY, with SELIM, weeping. Baj. See where she comes, with well-dissembled innocence;

With truth and faith so lovely in her face,
As if she durst even disavow the falsehood.-
Hop'st thou to make amends with trifling tears,
For my lost crown, and disappointed vengeance?
Ungrateful Selima! thy father's curse!

Bring forth the minion of her foolish heart!
He dies this moment.-

Ha. Would I could not speak

The crime of fatal love! The slave who fled,
By whom we are undone, was that Axalla.
Baj. Ha! say'st thou?

Ha. Hid beneath that vile appearance,
The princess found a means for his escape.
Sel. I am undone! even nature has disclaimed
me!

My father! have I lost you all? My father! Baj. Talk'st thou of nature, who hast broke her bands!

Thou art my bane, thou witch! thou infant parricide!

But I will study to be strangely cruel;

I will forget the folly of my fondness;
Drive all the father from my breast; now snatch

Disgrace will overtake my lingering hand; Die then! Thy father's shame, and thine, die with thee! [Offers to kill her, Sel. For Heaven, for pity's sake! Baj. No more, thou trifler!

[She catches hold of his armı Ha! dar'st thou bar my will?-Tear off her

hold!

When nature teaches even the brute creation
To hold fast that, her best, her noblest gift?
Look on my eyes, which you so oft have kissed,
And swore they were your best-lov'd queen's,
my mother's;

Behold them now streaming for mercy, mercy!
Look on me, and deny me, if you can!
'Tis but for life I beg! Is that a boon
So hard for me to obtain, or you to grant?
Oh, spare me! Spare your Selima, my father!
Baj. A lazy sloth hangs on my resolution:
It is my Selima!-Ha! What, my child!
And can I murder her? Dreadful imagination!
Again they come! I leave her to my foes!

[Shouts. And shall they triumph o'er the race of Bajazet! Die, Selima!-Is that a father's voice?— Rouse, rouse, my fury! Yes, she dies, the victim To my lost hopes! Out, out, thou foolish nature!

Seize her, ye slaves! and strangle her this moment! [To the Mutes. Sel. Oh, let me die by you! Behold my

breast!

I would not shrink! Oh, save me but fromthese!

Baj. Dispatch!

[The Mutes seize her. Sel. But for a moment, while I pray That Heaven may guard my royal father! Baj. Dogs!

Sel. That you may only bless me, ere I die! [Shout.

[As BAJAZET runs at SELIMA, with his sword, enter TAMERLAne, Axalla,&c. AXALLA gets between BAJAZET and SELIMA, whilst TAMERLANE and the rest drive BAJAZET and the Mutes off the Stage.

Ar. And am I come to save thee? Oh, my joy!

Be this the whitest hour of all my life!
This one success is more than all my wars,
The noblest, dearest glory of my sword,

Sel. Alas, Axalla! Death has been around me;
My coward soul still trembles at the fright,
And seems but half secure, even in thy arms.
Ar. Retire, my fair, and let me guard thee
forth:

Blood and tumultuous slaughter are about us,
And danger, in her ugliest forms, is here;
Nor will the pleasure of my heart be full,
Till all my fears are ended in thy safety.

[Exeunt AXALLA and SELIMA.

Enter TAMERLANE, the Prince of TANAIS, ZAMA, MIRVAN, and Soldiers; with BAJAZET, OMAR, and the Dervise, prisoners.

Tam. Mercy at length gives up her peaceful sceptre,

And justice sternly takes her turn to govern; "Tis a rank world, and asks her keenest sword, To cut up villany of monstrous growth. Zama, take care, that with the earliest dawn, Those traitors meet the fate their treason merits. [Pointing to OMAR and the Dervise. For thee, thou tyrant! [To BAJ.] whose oppressive violence

Has ruined those thou shouldst protect at home;

Whose wars, whose slaughters, whose assassine tions,

(That basest thirst of blood! that sin of cowards) Whose faith, so often given, and always violated Have been the offence of Heaven, and plague o earth-

What punishment is equal to thy crimes?
The doom, thy rage designed for me, be thine:
Closed in a cage, like some destructive beast,
I'll have thee borne about, in public view,
A great example of that righteous vengeance,
That waits on cruelty, and pride, like thine.

Baj. It is beneath me to decline my fate;
I stand prepar'd to meet thy utmost hate.
Yet think not I will long thy triumph see:
None want the means, when the soul dares be
free.

I'll curse thee with my last, my parting breath, And keep the courage of my life, in death; Then boldly venture on that world unknown: It cannot use me worse than this has done. [Exit BAJAZET, guarded. Tam. Behold the vain effects of earth-born pride,

That scorn'd Heaven's laws, and all its power defied!

That could the hand, which formed it first, for get,

And fondly say, I made myself be great!
But justly those above assert their sway,
And teach even kings what homage they should
pay,

Who then rule best, when mindful to obey.
[Exeunt omnes.

Too well we saw what must have been our fate,
When harmony with beauty join'd, of late,
Threaten'd the ruins of our sinking state;
Till you, from whom our being we receive,
In pity bid your own creation live;

With moving sounds you kindly drew the fair,
And fix'd, once more, that shining circle here:
The lyre you bring is half Apollo's praise;
Be ours the task to win and wear his bays.
Thin houses were before so frequent to us,
We wanted not a project to undo us;
We seldom saw your honours, but by chance,
As some folks meet their friends of Spain or
France:

'Twas verse decay'd, or politics improv❜d,
That had estrang'd you thus from what you
lov'd..

Time was when busy faces were a jest,
When wit and pleasure were in most request;

When cheerful theatres with crowds were grac'd;
But those good days of poetry are past;
Now sour reformers in an empty pit,
With table-books, as at a lecture, sit,
To take notes, and give evidence 'gainst wit.
Those who were once our friends, employ'd
elsewhere,

Are busy now in settling, peace and war:
With careful brows at Tom's and Will's they
meet,

And ask who did elections lose or get-
Our friend has lost-Faith I am sorry for't,
He's a good man, and ne'er was for the court;
He to no government will sue for grace,
By want of merit safe against a place,
By spite a patriot made, and sworn t' oppose
All who are uppermost, as England's foes:
Let Whig or Tory, any side prevail,
Still 'tis his constant privilege to rail.

Another, that the tax and war may cease, -Talks of the duke of Anjou's right and peace, And, from Spain's wise example, is for taking A viceroy of the mighty monarch's making; Who should all rights and liberties maintain, And English laws by learn'd dragoons explain Come, leave these politics, and follow wit;

There, uncontroll'd, you may in judgment sit;
We'll never differ with a crowded pit:
We'll take you all, ev'n on your own conditions,
Think you great men, and wondrous politicians;
And if you slight the offers which we make you,
No Brentford princes will for statesmen take

you.

VOL. I.

2 N