faith,

Now to submit to see my sister doomed
A bosom slave to him, whose tyrant heart
But measures glory by the Christian's woe!
Yes I will dare acquaint our father with it;
Departing Lusignan may live so long,
As just to hear thy shame, and die to escape
Zar. Stay-my too angry brother-stay-per-
haps,

it.

Zara has resolution great as thine:
'Tis cruel and unkind.-Thy words are crimes;
My weakness but misfortune. Dost thou suffer?
I suffer more;-Oh! would to Heaven this blood
Of twenty boasted kings would stop at once,
And stagnate in my heart !-It then no more
Would rush, in boiling fevers, through my veins,
And every trembling drop be filled with Osman.
How has he loved me! how has he obliged me!
I owe thee to him! What has he not done,
To justify his boundless power of charming?
For me, he softens the severe decrees
Of his own faith ;-and is it just that mine
Should bid me hate him, but because he loves
me?

No

I will be a Christian- -but preserve
My gratitude as sacred as my faith;
If I have death to fear for Osman's sake,
It must be from his coldness, not his love.

Ner. I must at once condemn and pity thee;
I cannot point thee out which way to go,
But Providence will lend its light to guide thee.
That sacred rite, which thou shalt now receive,
Will strengthen and support thy feeble heart,
To live an innocent, or die a martyr:
Here, then, begin performance of thy vow;
Here, in the trembling horrors of thy soul,
Promise thy king, thy father, and thy God,
Not to accomplish thy detested nuptials,

Till first the reverend priest has cleared your eyes,

Taught you to know, and given you claim to Heaven,

Promise me this

Zar. So, bless me, Heaven! I do.Go-hasten the good priest, I will expect him; But first return-cheer my expiring father, Tell him I am, and will be, all he wishes me: Tell him, to give him life 'twere joy to die. Ner. Igo-Farewell-farewell, unhappy sister! [Exit Nerestan. Zar. I am alone-and now be just, my heart! And tell me, wilt thou dare betray thy God? What am I? What am I about to be? Daughter of Lusignan-or wife to Osman? Am I a lover most, or most a Christian? Would Selima were come! and yet 'tis just, All friends should fly her who forsakes herself. What shall I do?-What heart has strength to bear

These double weights of duty?-Help me, Heaven!

But, oh! demand it back-for now 'tis Osman's, Enter OSMAN,

Osm. Shine out, appear, be found, my lovely
Zara!

Impatient eyes attend-the rites expect thee;
And my devoted heart no longer brooks
This distance from its softener!--all the lamps
Of nuptial love are lighted, and burn pure,
As if they drew their brightness from thy blushes:
The holy mosque is filled with fragrant fumes,
Which emulate the sweetness of thy breathing:
My prostrate people all confirm my choice,
And send their souls to Heaven in prayers for
blessings.

Thy envious rivals, conscious of thy right,
Approve superior charins, and join to praise thee;
The throne, that waits thee, seems to shine more
richly,

As all its gems, with animated lustre,

Feared to look dim bencath the eyes of Zara! Come, my slow love! the ceremonies wait thee; Come, and begin from this dear hour my triumph. Zar. Oh, what a wretch am I! Oh, grief! Oh, love!

But doubles my desires, and thy own beauties.
Zar. Ah, me!

Osm. Nay-but thou shouldst not be too cruel,
Zar. I can no longer bear it—Oh, my lord—
Osm. Ha!-What?-whence?-how?-
Zar. My lord! my sovereign!

Heaven knows this marriage would have been a bliss

Above my humble hopes !-yet, witness love!
Not from the grandeur of your throne, that bliss,
But from the pride of calling Osman mine.
Would you had been no emperor! and I
Possessed of power and charms deserving you!
That, slighting Asia's thrones, I might alone
Have left a proffered world, to follow you
Through deserts, uninhabited by men,
And blessed with ample room for peace and love:
But, as it is-these Christians-

Osm. Christians! What!

How start two images into thy thoughts,
So distant as the Christians and my love!
Zar. That good old Christian, reverend Lusig-
nan,

Now dying, ends his life and woes together.
Osm. Well! let him die-What has thy heart
to feel,

Thus pressing, and thus tender, from the death Of an old wretched Christian?-Thank our prophet,

Thou art no Christian!-Educated here,
Thy happy youth was taught our better faith:
Sweet as thy pity shines, 'tis now mis-timed.
What! though an aged sufferer dies unhappy,
Why should his foreign fate disturb our joys?
Zar. Sir, if you love me, and would have me
think

That I am truly dear

Osm. Heaven! if I love!

Zar. Permit me-

Osm. What?

Zar. To desire

Osm. Speak out.

Zar. The nuptial rites

May be deferred till

Ösm. What!-Is that the voice

Of Zara?

Zar. Oh, I cannot bear his frown!
Osm. Of Zara!

Zar. It is dreadful to my heart,
To give you but a seeming cause for anger;
Pardon my grief-Alas! I cannot bear it;
There is a painful terror in your eye,
That pierces to my soul-hid from your sight,
I go to make a moment's truce with tears,
And gather force to speak of my despair.

[Exit disordered. Osm. I stand immoveable, like senseless marble;

Horror had frozen my suspended tongue;
And an astonished silence robbed my will
Of power to tell her that she shocked my soul !
Spoke she to me?-Sure I misunderstood her!
Could it be me she left?-What have I seen!
Enter ORASMIN.
Orasmin, what a change is here!-She's
And I permitted it, I know not how.
Oras. Perhaps you but accuse the charming
fault

Of innocence, too modest oft in love.

gone,

Osm. But why, and whence those tears?-those looks that flight?

That grief, so strongly stamped on every feature? If it has been that Frenchman!-What a thought! How low, how horrid a suspicion that!

The dreadful flash at once gives light and kills

me;

My too bold confidence repelled my cautionAn infidel! a slave !-a heart like mine Reduced to suffer from so vile a rival !

Didst thou observe the language of their eyes? Hide nothing from me Is my love betrayed? Tell me my whole disgrace: nay, if thou tremblest,

I hear thy pity speak, though thou art silent.

Oras. I tremble at the pangs I see you suffer. Let not your angry apprehension urge Your faithful slave to irritate your anguish ; I did, 'tis true, observe some parting tears; But they were tears of charity and grief: I cannot think there was a cause deserving This agony of passion

Osm. Why no-I thank thee———— Orasmin, thou art wise! It could not be That I should stand exposed to such an insult. Thou know'st, had Zara meant me the offence, She wants not wisdom to have hid it better: How rightly didst thou judge!--Zara shall know it, And thank thy honest service-After all, Might she not have some cause for tears, which I Claim no concern in—but the grief it gives her? What an unlikely fear-from a poor slave, Who goes to-morrow, and, no doubt, who wishes, Nay, who resolves, to see these climes no more. Öras. Why did you, sir, against our country's

custom,

Indulge him with a second leave to come?
He said, he should return once more to see her.
Osm. Return! the traitor! he return!-Dares
he

Presume to press a second interview?
Would he be seen again?-He shall be seen;
But dead. I'll punish the audacious slave,
To teach the faithless fair to feel my anger.
Be still, my transports; violence is blind:
I know my heart at once is fierce and weak;
I feel that I descend below myself;
Zara can never justly be suspected;

Her sweetness was not formed to cover treason:
Yet, Osman must not stoop to woman's follies;
Their tears, complaints, regrets, and reconcile-
ments,

With all their light, capricious roll of changes,
Are arts too vulgar to be tried on me.
It would become me better to resume
The empire of my will. Rather than fall
Beneath myself, I must, how dear soe'er
It costs me, rise-till I look down on Zara!-
Away-but mark me-these seraglio doors,
Against all Christians be they henceforth shut,
Close as the dark retreats of silent death.

[Exit Orasmin. What have I done, just Heaven! thy rage to

move,

ing?

[Exit.

SCENE I.

ZARA, SELIMA.

Sel. АH, madam! how at once I grieve your fate,

And how admire your virtue !-Heaven permits, And Heaven will give you strength, to bear misfortune;

To break these chains, so strong, and yet so dear. Zar. Oh, that I could support the fatal struggle!

Sel. The Eternal aids your weakness, sees your will,

Directs your purpose, and rewards your sorrows. Zar. Never had wretch more cause to hope he does.

Sel. What! though you here no more behold
your father!

There is a Father to be found above,
Who can restore that father to his daughter.

Zar. But I have planted pain in Osman's bo

som;

He loves me, even to death! and I reward him With anguish and despair.-How base! how cruel!

But I deserved him not; I should have been Too happy, and the hand of Heaven repelled

me.

Sel. What! will you then regret the glorious loss,

And hazard thus a victory bravely won?

Zar. Inhuman victory!-thou dost not know This love so powerful, this sole joy of life, This first, best hope of earthly happiness, Is yet less powerful in my heart than Heaven! To him who made that heart I offer it; There, there, I sacrifice my bleeding passion; I pour before him every guilty tear; I beg him to efface the fond impression, And fill with his own image all my soul: But, while I weep and sigh, repent and pray, Remembrance brings the object of my love, And every light illusion floats before him. I see, I hear him, and again he charms!

Sel. Ah! despair not;

Trust your eternal helper, and be happy.

Zar. Why-what has Osman done, that he too
should not?

Has Heaven so nobly formed his heart to hate it?
Generous and just, beneficent and brave,
Were he but Christian-What can man be more?
I wish, methinks, this reverend priest were come,
To free me from these doubts, which shake my
soul:

Yet know not why I should not dare to hope,
That Heaven, whose mercy all confess and feel,
Will pardon and approve the alliance wished:
Perhaps it scats me on the throne of Syria,
To tax my power for these good Christians' com-
fort.

Thou know'st the mighty Saladine, who first
Conquered this empire from my father's race,
Who, like my Osman, charmed the admiring
world,

Drew breath, though Syrian, from a Christian

mother.

Sel. What mean you, madam! Ah! you do

not see

Zar. Yes, yes-I see it all; I am not blind: I see my country and my race condemn me; I see, that spite of all, I still love Osman. What if I now go throw me at his feet, And tell him there sincerely what I am?

Sel. Consider that might cost your brother's life,

Expose the Christians, and betray you all.

Zar. You do not know the noble heart of Os

man.

Sel. I know him the protector of a faith, Sworn enemy to ours-The more he loves, The less he will permit you to profess Opinions which he hates: to-night the priest, In private introduced, attends you here; You promised him admission

Zur. Would I had not!

Heaven!

Oh, all ye royal ancestors! Oh, father!
Mother! You Christians, and the Christians'
God!

You who deprive me of this generous lover!
If you permit me not to live for him,

Let me not live at all, and I am blessed :
Let me die innocent; let his dear hand
Close the sad eyes of her he stooped to love,
And I acquit my fate, and ask no more.
But he forgives me not-regardless now,
Whether or how I live, or when I die.
He quits me, scorns me-and I yet live on,
And talk of death as distant!-

Suspicion follows, and I lose his love.

Enter OSMAN.

Osm. Madam! there was a time when my charmed heart

Made it a virtue to be lost in love;
When, without blushing, I indulged my flame,
And every day still made you dearer to me.
You taught me, madam, to believe my love
Rewarded and returned-nor was that hope,
Methinks, too bold for reason. Emperors,
Who chuse to sigh devoted at the feet

Of beauties, whom the world conceive their slaves,
Have fortune's claim, at least, to sure success:

But 'twere prophane to think of power in love.
Dear as my passion makes you, I decline
Possession of her charms, whose heart's another's.
You will not find me a weak, jealous lover,
By coarse reproaches, giving pain to you,
And shaming my own greatness.

deeply,

Wounded

Yet shunning and disdaining low complaint,
I come- -to tell you-

Zar. Give my trembling heart

A moment's respite

Osm. That unwilling coldness

Is the just prize of your capricious lightness;
Your ready arts may spare the fruitless pains
Of colouring deceit with fair pretences;
I would not wish to hear your slight excuses;
I cherish ignorance, to save my blushes.
Osman in every trial shall remember
That he is emperor. Whate'er I suffer,
'Tis due to honour that I give up you,
And to my injured bosom take despair,
Rather than shamefully possess you sighing,
Convinced those sighs were never meant for

me

Go, madam-you are free-from Osman's pow

er

Expect no wrongs, but see his face no more.

Zar. At last, 'tis come-the feared, the murdering moment

Is come and I am cursed by earth and heaven! [Throws herself on the ground. If it is true that I am loved nó more

If you

Osm. It is too true, my fame requires it; It is too true that I unwilling leave you : That I at once renounce you and adoreZara! -you weep!

Zar. If I am doomed to lose you,
If I must wander o'er an empty world,
Unloving and unloved- -Oh! yet, do justice
To the afflicted-do not wrong me doubly :
Punish me, if it is needful to your peace,
But say not, I deserved it-This, at least,
Believe-for not the greatness of your soul
Is truth more pure and sacred--no regret
Can touch my bleeding heart, for I have lost
The rank of her you raise to share, your throne.
I know I never ought to have been there;
My fate and my defects require I lose you.
But ah! my heart was never known to Osman.
May Heaven, that punishes, for ever hate me,
If I regret the loss of aught but you.

Osm. Rise-rise, this means not love?
Zar. Strike- -Strike me, Heaven!
Osm. What! is it love to force yourself to
wound

The heart you wish to gladden? But I find
Lovers least know themselves; for I believed,
That I had taken back the power I gave you;
Yet see! you did but weep, and have resumed
me!

Proud as I am- I must confess, one wish

row,

I will not have a thought concealed from you. Osm. What strange disquiet, from what stranger cause!

Zar. If I am really blessed with Osman's love, He will not then refuse this humble prayer.

Osm. If it must be, it must,-Be pleased, my will

Takes purpose from your wishes; and consent Depends not on my choice, but your decree: Go- -but remember how he loves, who thus Finds a delight in pain, because you give it.

Zar. It gives me more than pain to make you feel it.

Osm. And- -can you, Zara, leave me?
Zar. Alas, my lord!
[Exit Zara.
Osm. [Alone. It should be yet, methinks, too
soon to fly me !

Too soon, as yet, to wrong my easy faith.
The more I think, the less I can conceive,
What hidden cause should raise such strange de-

spair!

Now, when her hopes have wings, and every wish Is courted to be lively! When I love,