Zamti. Thou ever faithful creature! Still call me faithful? By that honoured name Zamti. Thou art my wife, Whose matchless excellence, even in bondage, 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? 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, 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 The vassals of his will! No; let us rather But now a dear, a murdered father calls; He lifts my arm to rivet thee to earth, 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. Mir. Oh! nerve his arm, ye powers, and guide each blow! Enter HAMET. The unrelenting slaves, whose trade is death, And bound him on the wheel. All frantic at the sight, Mandane plunged a poniard in her heart, 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 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. Tyrannic guilt, behold thy fatal end, Enter MORAT. Morat. Where is the king? Revenge now stalks abroad. Our valiant leaders, Send forth, and let Orasming straight proclaim [Exit Morat. Now, where is Zamti? where Mandane?—ha! Zaph. And see, See on that mournful bier he clasps her still; 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! 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. event! I could not hope such tidings-Thee, my prince- Hamet. How fares it now, my father? Is that the ever dear, the faithful woman? Is that my wife?-And is it thus at length, Cold is that breast, where virtue from above 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, Tremble in agony-his eye-balls glare!- 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 Zaph. Thy woes, indeed, Are deep, thou pious youth-yes, I will live, A nation's grief, when such a pair expires. 4 SCENE I.-An avenue leading to a Gothic castle. Enter GREY and First Knight. Grey. A MESSENGER dispatched by lady Sa- Knt. And, in the specious guise he wore, had Grey. Say Knt. Straight to repair To Marlborough; where now, as fame reports, 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 He tended with unceasing care; how near I hate those motleyed characters; Something, I know not what, 'twixt good and 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 5 E |