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Zamti. Thou ever faithful creature!
Man. Can'st thou, Zamti,

Still call me faithful? By that honoured name
Wilt thou call her, whose wild maternal love
Hath overwhelmed us all?

Zamti. Thou art my wife,

Whose matchless excellence, even in bondage,
Hath cheered my soul; but now thy every charm,
By virtue wakened, kindled by distress
To higher lustre, all my passions beat
Unutterable gratitude and love.

And must-oh! cruel! must I see thee bleed? Man. For me death wears no terror on his brow.

Full twenty years hath this resounding breast Been smote with these sad hands; these haggard eyes

Have seen my country's fall; my dearest husband

My son-my king-all in the Tartar's hands: What then remains for me? Death! only death. Zamti. Ah! can thy tenderness endure the pangs

Inventive cruelty even now designs?

Must this fair form-this soft perfection bleed?
Thy decent limbs be strained with cruel cords
To glut a ruffian's rage?-

Man. Alas! this frame,

This feeble texture never can sustain it.

But this this I can bear

Zamti. Ha!

Man. Yes! this dagger!

[Shews a dagger.

Do thou but lodge it in this faithful breast,

My heart shall spring to meet thee.

Zamti. Oh!

Man. Do thou,

My honoured lord, who taught me every virtue,
Afford this friendly, this last human office,
And teach me now to die.

Zamti. Oh! never-never

Hence let me bear this fatal instrument.

[Takes the dagger. What, to usurp the dread prerogative Of life and death, and measure out the thread Of our own beings! 'tis the coward's act, Who dares not to encounter pain and peril. Be that the practice of the untutored savage; Be it the practice of the gloomy North.

Man. Must we, then, wait a haughty tyrant's
nod,

The vassals of his will! No; let us rather
Nobly break through the barriers of this life,
And join the beings of some other world,
Who'll throng around our greatly daring souls,
And view the deed with wonder and applause.
Zamti. Distress too exquisite ! Ye holy powr's!
If aught below can supersede your law,
And plead for wretches, who dare, self-impelled,
Rush to your awful presence; Oh! it is not
When the distempered passions rage, when pride
Is stung to madness, when ambition falls
From his high scaffolding; Oh! no. If aught

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But now a dear, a murdered father calls;

He lifts my arm to rivet thee to earth,
The avenger of mankind.

Mir. Fall on, my prince.

What means that look of wan despair?

Enter MIRVAN.

Mir. Oh! dire mischance!

Timur. By Heaven, I'll dare thee still. Re- While here I trembled for the great event,

sign it, slave,

Resign thy blade to nobler hands.

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Mir. Oh! nerve his arm, ye powers, and guide each blow!

Enter HAMET.

The unrelenting slaves, whose trade is death,
Began their work. Nor piety, nor age,
Could touch their felon-hearts; they seized on
Zamti,

And bound him on the wheel. All frantic at the sight,

Mandane plunged a poniard in her heart,
And at her husband's feet expired.

Hamet. Oh! heavens !

My mother!

Zaph. Fatal rashness!-Mirvan, say, Is Zamti, too, destroyed?

Mir. Siniling in pangs,

We found the good, the venerable man: Released from anguish, with what strength remained,

Mir. See there! behold-he darts upon his He reached the couch where lost Mandane lay;

prey.

Zaph. [within.] Die, bloodhound, die!

Timur. [within.] May curses blast my arm, That failed so soon!

Hamet. The Tartar drops his point. Zaphimri now

Timur. [within.] Have mercy! mercy! oh! Zaph. [within.] Mercy was never thine. This, fell destroyer,

This, for a nation's groans!

Mir. The monster dies;

He quivers on the ground. Then let me fly
To Zamti and Mandane with the tidings,
And call them back to liberty and joy.

Enter ZAPHIMRI.

[Exit Mirvan.

Zaph. Now, Hamet, now oppression is no more: This smoking blade hath drunk the tyrant's blood. Hamet. China again is free! There lies the

corse

That breathed destruction to the world.
Zaph. Yes, there,

Tyrannic guilt, behold thy fatal end,
The wages of thy sins.

Enter MORAT.

Morat. Where is the king?

Revenge now stalks abroad. Our valiant leaders,
True to the destined hour, at once broke forth
From every quarter on the astonished foe:
Octar is fallen; all covered o'er with wounds
He met his fate; and still the slaughtering sword
Invades the city, sunk in sleep and wine.
Zaph. Lo! Timurkan lies levelled with the
dust!

Send forth, and let Orasming straight proclaim
Zaphimri king-my subjects' rights restored.

[Exit Morat. Now, where is Zamti? where Mandane?—ha!

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Zaph. And see,

See on that mournful bier he clasps her still;
Still hangs upon each faded feature; still
To her deaf ear complains in bitter anguish.
Heart-piercing sight!

Hamet. Oh! agonizing scene!

[The corse is brought forward, Zamti lying on the couch, and clasping the dead body.] Zamti. Ah! stay, Mandane, stay!—yet once again

Let me behold the day-light of thy eyes!
Gone, gone-for ever, ever gone! Those orbs,
That ever gently beamed, must dawn no more!
Zaph. Are these our triumphs?—these our
promised joys?

Zamti. The music of that voice recalls my soul. [Rises from the body, and runs eagerly to embrace Zaphimri; his strength fails him, and he falls at his feet.]

My prince! my king!

Zaph. Soft, raise him from the ground.
Zamti. Zaphimri !-Hamet too!-Oh! blessed

event!

I could not hope such tidings-Thee, my prince-
Thee, too, my son-I thought ye both destroyed.
My slow remains of life cannot endure
These strong vicissitudes of grief and joy.
And there-Oh! Heaven!-see there, there lies
Mandane !

Hamet. How fares it now, my father?
Zamti. Lead me to her-

Is that the ever dear, the faithful woman?

Is that my wife?-And is it thus at length,
Thus do I see thee then, Mandane?-Cold,
Alas! death-cold-

Cold is that breast, where virtue from above
Made its delighted sojourn, and those lips
That uttered heavenly truth-pale! pale!-dead,
dead!
[Sinks on the body.

Pray ye, entomb me with her! Zaph. Then take, ye Powers, then take your conquests back;

Zaphimri never can survive

Zamti. [Raising himself.] I charge thee, live: A base desertion of the public weal Can ne'er become a king.-Alas! my son(By that dear tender name, if once again Zamti may call thee)—tears will have their way! Forgive this flood of tenderness: my heart Melts even now! Thou noble youth, this is The only interview we e'er shall have.

Zaph. And will ye then, inexorable powers, Will ye then tear him from my aching heart!

Zamti. The moral duties of the private man Are grafted in thy soul-Oh! still remember The mean immutable of happiness,

Or in the vale of life, or on a throne,
Is virtue. Each bad action of a king
Extends beyond his life, and acts again
Its tyranny o'er ages yet unborn.
To error mild, severe to guilt, protect
The helpless innocent; and learn to feel
The best delight of serving human kind.
Be these, my prince, thy arts; be these thy cares,
And live the father of a willing people.
Hamet. Oh! cruel!-see-ah see !—he dies!
-his lips

Tremble in agony-his eye-balls glare!-
A death-like paleness spreads o'er all his face!

Zaph. Is there no help to save so dear a life? Zamti. It is too late-I die-alas! I die!Life harassed out, pursued with barbarous art, Through every trembling joint-now fails at once! Zaphimri-oh! farewell!-I shall not see The glories of thy reign.-Hamet!—my sonThou good young man, farewell!—Mandane, yes, My soul with pleasure takes her flight, that thus Faithful in death, I leave these cold remains Near thy dear honoured clay. [Dies.

Zaph. And art thou gone, Thou best of men?-Then must Zaphimri pine In ever-during grief, since thou art lost; Since that firm patriot, whose parental care Should raise, should guide, should animate mỹ virtues,

Lies there a breathless corse.

Hamet. My liege, forbear:

Live for your people; madness and despair
Belong to woes like mine.

Zaph. Thy woes, indeed,

Are deep, thou pious youth-yes, I will live,
To soften thy afflictions; to assuage

A nation's grief, when such a pair expires.
Come to my heart :-in thee, another Zamti
Shall bless the realm. Now let me hence to hal
My people with the sound of peace; that done,
To these a grateful monument shall rise,
With all sepulchral honour. Frequent, there,
We'll offer incense;-there, each weeping muse
Shall grave the tributary verse ;-with tears
Embalm their memories; and teach mankind,
Howe'er oppression stalk the groaning earth,
Yet Heaven, in its own hour, can bring relief;
Can blast the tyrant in his guilty pride,
And prove the Orphan's guardian to the last.
[Exeunt omnes.

4

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SCENE I.-An avenue leading to a Gothic castle.

Enter GREY and First Knight.

Grey. A MESSENGER dispatched by lady Sa-
lisbury!

Knt. And, in the specious guise he wore, had
passed
Unquestioned, had not I, in happy season,
Approached, even as the unwary centinels
Half op'd the gate. By threats o'erawed in part,
In part through hope of favour won, he owned,
At length, by whom employed, whither bent,
And for what purpose.

Grey. Say

Knt. Straight to repair

To Marlborough; where now, as fame reports,
Our king resides, with all his peers; and there
To seek the lord de Warren; to what end
This paper will, as I suppose, inform you.
I was about to bear it to lord Raymond.

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Us near. Our vigilance be doubly firm. [Exit Knt. [Reads.] The countess of Salisbury, to her illus trious friend, the lord de Warren.

'I have lost my husband-Me and my lands 'lord Raymond claims, as by royal grant assigned to him. He has banished my train, encompass'ed me with his creatures, and holds me a prisoner in my own castle. If the memory of thy 'noble friend be dear to thee, haste and rescue 'the afflicted 'ELA.'

| How near was Raymond's hope, the beauteous
hope

He tended with unceasing care; how near
My rising fortunes marred-I like not this:
Her, and her rich domains, he would possess;
Yet in his breast there lives that kind of heart
Withholds him from the path that's nearest. He,
That would be great, must first be bold.

I hate those motleyed characters;

Something, I know not what, 'twixt good and ill,
Yet neither absolute; all good, all ill,

Grey. That care be mine. Henceforward it For me-That day, saith he, that happy day,

concerns

VOL. I.

Which sees the countess mine, shall amply pay

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