Dependent on my gift-Yes, Bajazet,
I bid thee-live! So much my soul disdains That thou shouldst think I can fear aught but Heaven:
Nay, more; couldst thou forget thy brutal fierce
And form thyself to manhood, I would bid thee Live, and be still a king, that thou mayest learn What man should be to man, in war remembering The common tie and brotherhood of kind. This royal tent, with such of thy domestics As can be found, shall wait upon thy service; Nor will I use my fortune to demand Hard terms of peace, but such as thou mayst offer With honour, I with honour may receive.
[Tamerlane signs to an Officer, who un- binds Bajazet.
Baj. Ha! sayst thou-no-our prophet's vengeance blast me,
If thou shalt buy my friendship with thy empire. Damnation on thee, thou smooth fawning talker! Give me again my chains, that I may curse thec, And gratify my rage: or, if thou wilt
Be a vain fool, and play with thy perdition, Remember I'm thy foc, and hate thee deadly. Thy folly on thy head!
Great minds, like Heaven, are pleased in doing good,
Though the ungrateful subjects of their favours Are barren in return: thy stubborn pride, That spurns the gentle office of humanity, Shall in my honour own, and thy despite, I have done as I ought. Virtue still does With scorn the mercenary world regard, Where abject souls do good, and hope reward: Above the worthless trophies men can raise, She seeks not honours, wealth, nor airy praise, But with herself, herself the goddess pays.
[Exeunt Tamerlane, Axalla, Prince of Tanais, Mirvan, Zama, and Attendants. Baj. Come, lead me to my dungeon! plunge me down,
Deep from the hated sight of man and day, Where, under covert of the friendly darkness, My soul may brood, at leisure, o'er its anguish! Om. Our royal master would, with noble usage, your misfortunes light: he bids you hopeBaj. I tell thee, slave, I have shook hands
And all my thoughts are rage, despair, and horror! Ha! wherefore am I thus?-Perdition seize me! But my cold blood runs shivering to my heart, As at some phantom, that in dead of night, With dreadful action, stalks around our beds. The rage and fiercer passions of my breast Are lost in new confusion.-
Ha. Oh, emperor! for whose hard fate our prophet,
And all the heroes of thy sacred race, Are sad in paradise, thy faithful Haly, The slave of all thy pleasures, in this ruin, This universal shipwreck of thy fortunes, Enter ARPASIA.
Has gathered up this treasure for thy arms: Nor even the victor, haughty Tamerlane (By whose command once more thy slave beholds thee),
Denies this blessing to thee, but, with honour, Renders thee back thy queen, thy beauteous bride. Baj Oh! had her eyes, with pity, seen my sor
That Heaven has any joy in store for thee? Look back upon the sum of thy past life, Where tyranny, oppression, and injustice, Perjury, murders, swell the black account; Where lost Arpasia's wrongs stand bleeding fresh, Thy last recorded crime. But Heaven has found thee;
At length the tardy vengeance has o'erta’en thee, My weary soul shall bear a little longer The pain of life, to call for justice on thee: That once complete, sink to the peaceful grave, And lose the memory of my wrongs and thee.
Baj. Thou railest! I thank thee for it-Be perverse,
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. [Bajazet 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! Chris- tian! Is it well that we meet thus ?
Betrayed her to the Tartar; or, even worse, Pale with thy fear, didst lose her like a coward; And, like a coward now, would cast the blame On fortune and ill stars.
Mon. Ha! saidst thou like a coward? What sanctity, what majesty divine Hast thou put on, to guard thee from my rage, That thus thou darest to wrong me? Baj. Out, thou slave, And know me for thy lord-
Mon. I tell thee, tyrant,
When in the pride of power thou sat'st on high, When like an idol thou wert vainly worshipped, By prostrate wretches, born with slavish souls: Even when thou wert a king, thou wert no more, Nor greater than Moneses; born of a race Royal, and great as thine. What art thou now, then?
The fate of war has set thee with the lowest; And captives (like the subjects of the grave), Losing distinction, serve one common lord.
Baj. Braved by this dog! Now give a loose to rage,
And curse thyself! curse thy false cheating pro- phet!
Ha! yet there is some revenge. Hear me, thou Christian!
Thou leftst that sister with me: Thou impostor! Thou boaster of thy honesty! Thou liar! But take her to thee back.
Now to explore my prison-if it holds Another plague like this, the restless damned (If muftis lie not) wander thus in hell; From scorching flames to chilling frosts they run, Then from their frosts to fires return again, 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. Why dost thou weep? Why this tem- pestuous passion,
That stops thy faultering tongue short on my
For while I sigh upon thy panting bosom, The sad remembrance of past woes is lost. Arp. Forbear to sooth thy soul with flattering thoughts,
Of evils overpast, and joys to come: Our woes are like the genuine shade beneath, Where fate cuts off the very hopes of day, And everlasting night and horror reign.
Mon. By all the tenderness and chaste endear
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, Softening the pride and fierceness of his temper, With gentle speech, made offer of his love. Amazed, as at the thought of sudden death, I started into tears, and often urged (Though still in vain) the difference of our faiths. At last, as flying to the utmost refuge, With lifted hands and streaming eyes, I owned The fraud; which when we first were made his prisoners,
Conscious of my unhappy form, and fearing For thy dear life, I forced thee to put on Thy borrowed name of brother, mine of sister; Hiding beneath that veil the nearer tie
I called, in vain, the powers of Heaven to aid me. Mon. Villain! Imperial villain! Oh, the coward! Awed by his guilt, though backed by force and power,
He durst not, to my face, avow his purpose; 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 desperate murder on my soul, Ere the rude slaves, that waited on his will, Had forced me to his-
Mon. Stop thee there, Arpasia, And bar my fancy from the guilty scene! Let not thought enter, lest the busy mind Should muster such a train of monstrous images, As would distract me. Oh! I cannot bear it. un-Thou lovely hoard of sweets, where all my joys Were treasured up, to have thee rifled thus! Thus torn untasted from my eager wishes! But I will have thee from him. Tamerlane ( The sovereign judge of equity on earth)
Mon. I will not think it is so, while I have thee;
While thus it is given to hold thee in my arms;
Shall do me justice on this mighty robber, And render back thy beauties to Moneses.
Those distant beauties of the future state. Tell me, Arpasia-say, what joys are those
Arp. And who shall render back my peace, my That wait to crown the wretch who suffers here?
Oh! tell me, and sustain my failing faith. Arp. Imagine somewhat exquisitely fine, Which fancy cannot paint, which the pleased mind
Can barely know, unable to describe it; Imagine it is a tract of endless joys, Without satiety or interruption;
Imagine it is to meet, and part no more.
Mon. Grant, gentle Heaven, that such may be our lot!
Let us be blest together. Oh, my soul! Build on that hope, and let it arm thy courage,
Nor art thou his, but mine; thy first vow is To struggle with the storm that parts us now.
Arp. O! think not, that the power Of most persuasive eloquence can make me Forget I have been another's, been his wife. Now, by my blushes, by the strong confusion And anguish of my heart, spare me, Moneses, Nor urge my trembling virtue to the precipice. Shortly, oh f very shortly, if my sorrows Divine aright, and Heaven be gracious to me, Death shall dissolve the fatal obligation, And give me up to peace, to that blest place, Where the good rest from care and anxious life. Mon. Oh, teach me, thou fair saint, like thee to suffer!
Teach me, with hardy piety, to combat The present ills: instruct my eyes to pass The narrow bounds of life, this land of sorrow, And, with bold hopes, to view the realms beyond,
Arp. Yes, my Moneses! now the surges rise, The swelling sea breaks in between our barks, And drives us to our fate on different rocks. Farewell! My soul lives with thee.
It is the last sad adieu 'twixt soul and body. But this is somewhat worse-----my joy, my com- fort,
All that was left in life, fleets after thee; My aching sight hangs on thy parting beauties, Thy lovely eyes, all drowned in floods of sorrow. So sinks the setting sun beneath the waves, And leaves the traveller, in pathless woods, Benighted and forlorn-Thus, with sad eyes, Westward he turns, to mark the light's decay, Till, having lost the last faint glimpse of day, Cheerless, in darkness, he pursues his way. [Exeunt Moneses and Arpasia, severally.
SCENE I.-The inside of the Royal Tent. Enter AXALLA, SELIMA, and Women Attendants. Ar. Can there be aught in love beyond this proof,
This wondrous proof, I give thee of my faith? To tear thee from my bleeding bosom thus ! To rend the strings of life, to set thee free, And yield thee to a cruel father's power! Foe to my hopes! What canst thou pay me back,
What but thyself, thou angel! for this fondness? Sel. Thou dost upbraid me, beggar as I am, And urge me with my poverty of love. Perhaps thou think'st, 'tis nothing for a maid To struggle through the niceness of her sex, The blushes and the fears, and own she loves. Thou think'st 'tis nothing for my artless heart To own my weakness, and confess thy triumph. Ar. Oh! yes I own it; my charmed ears ne'er
A sound of so much rapture, so much joy.
Not voices, instruments, not warbling birds, Not winds, not murmuring waters joined in con- cert,
Not tuneful nature, not the according spheres, Utter such harmony, as when my Selima, With down-cast looks and blushes, said-I love.
Sel. And yet thou say'st, I am a niggard to thee!
I swear the balance shall be held between us, And love be judge, if, after all the tenderness, Tears and confusion of my virgin soul, Thou shouldst complain of aught, unjust Axalla! Ar. Why was I ever blest !-Why is remem- brance
Rich with a thousand pleasing images
Of past enjoyments, since 'tis but plague to me? When thou art mine no more, what will it ease me To think of all the golden minutes past, To think that thou wert kind, and I was happy? But like an angel fallen from bliss, to curse My present state, and mourn the heaven I've lost.
Sel. Hope better for us both; nor let thy fears,
Like an unlucky omen, cross my way. My father, rough and stormy in his nature, To me was always gentle, and, with fondness Paternal, ever met me with a blessing.
Oft, when offence had stirred him to such fury, That not grave counsellors, for wisdom famed, Nor hardy captains, that had fought his battles, Presumed to speak, but struck with awful dread, Were hushed as death; yet has he smiled on me, Kissed me, and bade me utter all my purpose, Till, with my idle prattle, I had soothed him, And won him from his anger.
Thou hast a tongue to charm the wildest tempers.
Herds would forget to graze, and savage beasts Stand still and lose their fierceness, but to hear thee,
As if they had reflection, and by reason Forsook a less enjoyment for a greater. But, oh! when I revolve each circumstance, My Christian faith, my service closely bound To Tamerlane, my master, and my friend, Tell me, my charmer, if my fears are vain? Think what remains for me, if the fierce sultan Should doom thy beauties to another's bed! Sel. 'Tis a sad thought: but to appease thy doubts,
Here, in the awful sight of Heaven, I vow No power shall e'er divide me from thy love, Even daty shall not force me to be false. My cruel stars may tear thee from my arms, But never from my heart; and when the maids Shall yearly come with garlands of fresh flowers, To mourn with pious office o'er my grave, They shall sit sadly down, and weeping tell How well I loved, how much I suffered for thee: And while they grieve my fate, shall praise my constancy.
Ar. But see, the sultan comes!- -My beat- ing heart
Bounds with exulting motion; hope and fear Fight with alternate conquest in my breast. Oh! can I give her from me? Yield her up? Now mourn, thou god of love, since honour triumphs,
And crowns his cruel'altars with thy spoils.
Sel. My lord! my royal father! Baj. Ha! what art thou?
What heavenly innocence! that in a form So known, so loved, hast left thy paradise, For joyless prison, for this place of woe! Art thou my Selima?
Sel. Have you forgot me? Alas, my piety is then in vain! Your Selima, your daughter whom you loved, The fondling once of her dear father's arms, Is come to claim her share in his misfortunes; To wait and tend him with obsequious duty; To sit, and weep for every care he feels; To help to wear the tedious minutes out, To soften bondage, and the loss of empire.
Baj. Now, by our prophet, if my wounded mind Could know a thought of peace, it would be now! Even from thy prating infancy thou wert My joy, my little angel; smiling comfort Came with thee, still to glad me.
Even in thee too. Reproach and infamy Attend the Christian dog, to whom thou wert
To see thee here-'twere better see thee dead! Ar. Thus Tamerlane, to royal Bajazet, With kingly greeting sends; since with the brave (The bloody business of the fight once ended) Stern hate and opposition ought to cease; Thy queen already to thy arms restored, Receive this second gift, thy beauteous daughter; And if there be aught farther in thy wish, Demand with honour, and obtain it freely.
Baj. Bear back thy fulsome greeting to thy
Tell him, I'll none of it. Had he been a god, All his omnipotence could not restore My fame diminished, loss of sacred honour, The radiancy of majesty eclipsed: For aught besides, it is not worth my care; The giver and his gifts are both beneath me.
Ar. Enough of war the wounded earth has
Weary at length, and wasted with destruction, Sadly she rears her ruined head, to shew Her cities humbled, and her countries spoiled, And to her mighty masters sues for peace. Oh, sultan! by the Power divine I swear, With joy I would resign the savage trophies In blood and battle gained, could I atone The fatal breach 'twixt thee and Tamerlane;
Baj. To have a nauseous courtesy forced on And think a soldier's glory well bestowed
To buy mankind a peace.
Baj. And what árt thou, That dost presume to mediate 'twixt the rage Of angry kings?
Ar. A prince, born of the noblest, And of a soul that answers to that birth, That dares not but do well. Thou dost put on A forced forgetfulness, thus not to know me, A guest so lately to thy court, then meeting On gentler terms.→
And when thou couldst descend to take a benefit From a vile Christian, and thy father's foe, Thou didst an act dishonest to thy race: Henceforth, unless thou mean'st to cancel all My share in thee, and write thyself a bastard, Die, starve, know any evil, any pain, Rather than taste a mercy from these dogs. Sel. Alas! Axalla!
Ar. Weep not, lovely maid!
I swear, one pearly drop from those fair eyes Would over-pay the service of my life! One sigh from thee has made a large amends For all thy angry father's frowns and fierceness. Baj. Oh, my curst fortune !-Am I fallen thus low!
Dishonoured to my face! Thou earth-born thing! Thou clod! how hast thou dared to lift thy eyes Up to the sacred race of mighty Ottoman, Whom kings, whom even our prophet's holy off- spring
At distance have bebeld? And what art thou? What glorious titles blazon out thy birth? Thou vile obscurity! ha!-say-thou base one. Ar. Thus challenged, virtue, modest as she is, Stands up to do herself a common justice; To answer, and assert that inborn merit, That worth, which conscious to herself she feels. Were honour to be scanned by long descent, From ancestors illustrious, I could vaunt A lineage of the greatest, and recount, Among my fathers, names of ancient story, Heroes and god-like patriots, who subdued The world by arms and virtue, and, being Romans, Scorned to be kings; but that be their own praise: Nor will I borrow merit from the dead, Myself an undeserver. I could prove My friendship such, as thou mightest deign to accept
With honour, when it comes with friendly office, To render back thy crown, and former greatness; And yet even this, even all is poor, when Selima, With matchless worth, weighs down the adverse scale.
Baj. To give me back what yesterday took from me,
Urged me, with large ambition, to demand Crowns and dominions from his bounteous power: "Tis true, I waved the proffer, and have held it The worther choice to wait upon his virtues, To be the friend and partner of his wars, Than to be Asia's lord. Nor wonder then, If, in the confidence of such a friendship, I promise boldly for the royal giver, Thy crown and empire.
Baj. For our daughter thus
Meanest thou to barter? Ha! I tell thee, Chris- tian,
There is but one, one dowry thou canst give, And I can ask, worthy my daughter's love.
Ar. Oh! name the mighty ransom; task my
With a vile peace, patched up on slavish terms? With tributary kingship?— No! To merit
A recompence from me, sate my revenge. The Tartar is my bane, I cannot bear him : One heaven and earth can never hold us both; Still shall we hate, and with defiance deadly Keep rage alive, till one be lost for ever; As if two suns should meet in the meridian, And strive, in fiery combat, for the passage. Weep'st thou, fond girl? Now, as thy king, and father,
I charge thee, drive this slave from thy remem- brance!
Hate shall be pious in thee. Come, and join [Laying hold on her hand.
To curse thy father's foes.
Sel. Undone for ever! Now, tyrant duty, art thou yet obeyed? There is no more to give thee. Oh, Axalla!
[Bajazet leads out Selima, she looking back on Axalla.
Ar. 'Twas what I feared; fool that I was to obey!
The coward, Love, that could not bear her frown, Has wrought his own undoing. Perhaps e'en now The tyrant's rage prevails upon her fears: Fiercely he storms: she weeps, and sighs, and trembles,
Would be to give like Heaven, when having finish-But swears at length to think on me no more.
This world (the goodly work of his creation),
Ile bid his favourite man be lord of all. But this-
Ar. Nor is this gift beyond my power. Oft has the mighty master of my arms
He bade me take her. But, ob, gracious honour! Upon what terms? My soul yet shudders at it, And stands but half recovered of her fright. The head of Tamerlane! monstrous impiety! Bleed, bleed to death, my heart, be virtue's mar-
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