The modern British drama

But to be punished and forgiven. Here, strike;
I bare my breast to meet your just revenge.

Zara. I have not leisure now to take so poor
A forfeit as thy life; somewhat of high,
And more important fate, requires my thought.
When I've concluded on myself, if I
Think fit, I'll leave thee my command to die.
Regard me well; and dare not to reply
To what I give in charge: for I'm resolved.
Give order that the two remaining mutes
Attend me instantly, with each a bowl
Of such ingredients mixed, as will, with speed,
Benumb the living faculties, and give
Most easy and inevitable death.-
Yes, Osmyn, yes; be Osmyn or Alphonso,
I'll give thee freedom, if thou dar'st be free:
Such liberty as I embrace myself,

Thou shalt partake. Since fates no more afford,
I can but die with thee, to keep my word.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Opening, shews the Prison. Enter GONSALEZ disguised like a mute, with a dagger.

Gon. Nor centinel, nor guard! the doors un-
barred !

And all as still, as at the noon of night!
Sure death already has been busy here.
There lies my way; that door, too, is unlocked.
[Looking in.
Ha! sure he sleeps-all's dark within, save what
A lamp, that feebly lifts a sickly flame,
By fits reveals-his face seems turned, to favour
Th' attempt: I'll steal and do it unperceived.
What noise! somebody coming! is't Alonzo?
Nobody. Sure he'll wait without—I would
'Twere done-I'll crawl, and sting him to the
heart,

Then cast my skin, and leave it there to answer't.
[Goes in.

Enter GARCIA and ALONZO.

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eyes,

How much report has wronged your easy faith.
[GARCIA goes in

Alon. My lord, for certain truth, Perez is fled;
And has declared, the cause of his revolt
Was to revenge a blow the king had given him.
Gar. [Returning.] Ruin and horror! Oh,
heart-wounding sight!

Gons. What says my son? What ruin? Ha!
what horror?

Gar. Blasted my eyes, and speechless be my
tongue,

Rather than or to see, or to relate
This deed-Oh, dire mistake! Oh, fatal blow!
The king—

Gons. Alon. The king!

Gar. Dead, weltering, drowned in blood.
See, see, attired like Osmyn, where he lies!
[They look in
Oh, whence, or how, or wherefore was this done?
But what imports the manner or the cause?
Nothing remains to do, or to enquire,
But that we all should turn our swords against
Ourselves, and expiate, with our own, his blood.
Gons. Oh, wretch! Oh, cursed, rash, deluded
fool!

Gar. Where, where, Alonzo, where's my fa- On me, on me turn your avenging swords.

ther? where

I, who have spilt my royal master's blood,
Should make atonement by a death as horrid,
And fall beneath the hand of mine own son.

Gar. Ha! what! atone this murder with a

greater!

The horror of that thought has damped my rage.
The earth aiready groans to bear this deed;
Oppress her not, nor think to stain her face
With more unnatural blood. Murder my father!
Better with this to rip up my own bowels,
And bathe it to the hilt, in far less damnable
Self-murder.

Gons. Oh, my son! from the blind dotage
Of a father's fondness these ills arose.
For thee I've been ambitious, base, and bloody:
For thee I've plunged into this sea of sin;
Stemming the tide with only one weak hand,
While the other bore the crown (to wreathe thy
brow,)

Whose weight has sunk me, ere I reached the
shore.

Gar. Fatal ambition! Hark! the foe is entered: (Shout. The shrillness of that shout speaks them at hand. We have no time to search into the cause Of this surprising, and most fatal error. What's to be done! the king's death known, would strike

The few remaining soldiers with despair,
And make them yield to mercy of the conqueror.
Alon. My lord, I've thought how to conceal
the body.

Require me not to tell the means, till done,
Lest you forbid what you may then approve.
[Goes in. Shout.
Gons. They shout again! Whate'er he means
to do,

'Twere fit the soldiers were amused with hopes, And, in the mean time, fed with expectation To see the king in person at their head.

Gar. Were it a truth, I fear 'tis now too late. But I'll omit no care, but haste and try, Or to repel their force, or bravely die.

Re-enter ALONZO.

[Exit GARCIA.

Gons. What hast thou done, Alonzo?

Alon. Such a deed,

As but an hour ago I'd not have done,
Though for the crown of universal empire.
But what are kings, reduced to common clay?
Or who can wound the dead? I have from the

body

Severed the head, and in an obscure corner
Disposed it, muffled in the mute's attire,
Leaving to view of them who enter next,
Alone the undistinguishable trunk;
Which may be still mistaken by the guards
For Osmyn, if, in seeking for the king,
They chance to find it.

Gons. 'Twas an act of horror,

And of a piece with this day's dire misdeeds.
But 'tis no time to ponder or repent.
Haste thee, Alonzo, haste thee hence, with speed,
To aid my son. I'll follow, with the last
Reserve, to reinforce his arms: at least,
I shall make good, and shelter, his retreat.

[Exeunt severally.

Enter ZARA, followed by SELIM, and two Mutes bearing the bowls.

Zara. Silence and solitude are every where. Through all the gloomy ways, and iron doors, That hither lead, nor human face nor voice Is seen or heard. A dreadful din was wont To grate the sense, when entered here, from groans,

And howls of slaves condemned; from clink of chains,

And crash of rusty bars and creaking hinges :
And ever and anon the sight was dashed
With frightful faces, and the meagre looks
Of grim and ghastly executioners.
Yet more this stillness terrifies my soul,
Than did that scene of complicated horrors.
It may be, that the cause of this my errand

Zara. What have you seen? Ha! wherefore stare you thus,

[The Mutes return, and look affrighted. With haggard eyes? Why are your arms across? Your heavy and desponding heads hung down? What is't you more than speak in these sad signs? Give me more ample knowledge of this mourning.

[They go to the Scene, which opening, she
perceives the Body.

Ha! prostrate! bloody! headless! Oh-I'm lost.
Oh, Osmyn! Oh, Alphonso! Cruel fate!
Cruel, cruel, oh, more than killing object!
I came prepared to die, and see thee die-
Nay, came prepared myself to give thee death-
But cannot bear to find thee thus, my Osmyn-
Oh, this accursed, this base, this treacherous
king!

Enter SELIM.

Sel. I've sought in vain, for no where can the king Be found

Zara. Get thee to hell, and seek him there.
[Stabs him.

His hellish rage had wanted means to act,
But for thy fatal and pernicious counsel.
Sel. You thought it better then-but I'm re-
warded.

The mute you sent, by some mischance was seen,
And forced to yield your letter with his life;
I found the dead and bloody body stripped-
My tongue faulters, and my voice fails—I sink-
Drink not the poison-for Alphonso is-[Dies.

Zara. As thou art now-and I shall quickly be.
'Tis not that he is dead; for 'twas decreed
We both should die. Nor is't that I survive;
I have a certain remedy for that.

But oh, he died unknowing in my heart!
He knew I loved, but knew not to what height;
Nor that I meant to fall before his eyes,
A martyr, and a victim to my vows;
Insensible of this last proof he's gone.
Yet fate alone can rob his mortal part
Of sense: his soul still sees, and knows each pur-
pose,

And fixed event, of my persisting faith.
Then wherefore do I pause? Give me the bowl.

{A Mute kneels, and gives one of the Bowls. Hover a moment, yet, thou gentle spirit, Soul of my love, and I will wait thy flight. This to our mutual bliss, when joined above. [Drinks.

Oh, friendly draught, already in my heart!

Cold, cold; my veins are icicles and frost.
I'll creep into his bosom, lay me there;
Cover us close-or I shall chill his breast,
And fright him from my arms-See, see, he slides
Still farther from me; look, he hides his face,
I cannot feel it-quite beyond my reach,-
Oh, now he's gone, and all is dark-

[Dies.

[The Mutes kneel, and mourn over her.
Enter ALMERIA and LEONORA.

I'll drink my glad acknowledgment-
Leon. Oh, hold,

For mercy's sake! Upon my knee I beg-
Alm. With thee the kneeling world should beg
in vain.

Seest thou not there? Behold who prostrate lies,
And pleads against thee; who shall then prevail?
Yet I will take a cold and parting leave
From his pale lips; I'll kiss him ere I drink,
Lest the rank juice should blister on my mouth,

Alm. Oh, let me seek him in this horrid cell! And stain the colour of my last adieu.
For in the tomb, or prison, I alone

Must hope to find him,

Leon. Heavens! what dismal scene

Of death is this? The eunuch, Selim, slain ! Alm. Shew me, for I am come in search of death;

But want a guide; for tears have dimmed my
sight,

Leon. Alas, a little farther, and behold
Zara all pale and dead! two frightful men,
Who seem the murderers, kneel weeping by;
Feeling remorse, too late, for what they've done.
But, oh, forbear-lift up your eyes no more;
But haste away, fly from this fatal place,
Where miseries are multiplied; return,
Return, and look not on; for there's a dagger
Ready to stab the sight, and make your eyes
Rain blood-

Alm. Oh, I foreknow, foresee that object.
Is it at last then so? Is he then dead?
What! dead at last? quite, quite, for ever dead?
There, there, I see him; there he lies, the blood
Yet bubbling from his wounds-Oh, more than
savage!

Had they or hearts or eyes, that did this deed?
Could eyes endure to guide such cruel hands?
Are not my eyes guilty alike with theirs,
That thus can gaze, and yet not turn to stone?
-I do not weep! The springs of tears are
dried ;

And of a sudden I am calm, as if

All things were well; and yet my husband's mur.
dered!

Yes, yes, I know to mourn! I'll sluice this heart,
The source of woe, and let the torrent loose.
-Those men have left to weep! they look on
me!

I hope they murder all on whom they look.
Behold me well; your bloody hands have erred,
And wrongfully have slain those innocents:
I am the sacrifice designed to bleed,
And come prepared to yield my throat-They
shake

Their heads, in sign of grief and innocence!

[They point at the bowl on the ground. And point! What mean they? Ha! a cup; Oh,

well

I understand what medicine has been here.
Oh, noble thirst! yet greedy to drink all-
Oh, for another draught of death-What
mean they?
[They point at the other cup.
Ha! point again! 'tis there, and full, I hope.
Thanks to the liberal hand that filled thee thus!

Horror! a headless trunk! nor lips nor face,

[Coming near the body, starts and lets fall the cup.

But spouting veins, and mangled flesh! Oh, Oh!

Enter ALPHONSO, HELI, PEREZ, with GARCIA

prisoner. Guards and Attendants.

Alph. Away, stand off! Where is she? let me
fly,

Save her from death, and snatch her to my heart!
Alm. Oh!

Alph. Forbear; my arms alone shall hold her
up,

Warm her to life, and wake her into gladness.
Oh, let me talk, to thy reviving sense,
The words of joy and peace; warm thy cold

beauties

With the new-flushing ardour of my cheek;
Into thy lips pour the soft trickling balm
Of cordial sighs; and reinspire thy bosom
With the breath of love. Shine, awake, Almeria!
Give a new birth to thy long-shaded eyes,
Then double on the day reflected light.

Alm. Where am I? Heaven! what does this
dream intend?

Alph. Oh, may'st thou never dream of less delight,

Nor ever wake to less substantial joys!

Alm. Given me again from death! Oh, all ye

powers,

Confirm this miracle! Can I believe
My sight against my sight? and shall I trust
That sense, which, in one instant, shews him dead
And living?—Yes, I will; I've been abused
With apparitions and affrighting phantoms:
This is my lord, my life, my only husband;
I have him now, and we no more will part.
My father, too, shall have compassion-

Alph. Oh, my heart's comfort! 'tis not given
to this

Frail life to be entirely blessed. Even now,
In this extremest joy my soul can taste,
Yet I am dashed to think that thou must weep;
Thy father fell where he designed my death.
Gonsalez and Alonzo, both of wounds
Expiring, have, with their last breath, confessed
The just decree of Heaven, which on themselves
Has turned their own most bloody purposes.
Nay, I must grant, 'tis fit you should be thus-
[She weeps.
Let them remove the body from her sight.—
Ill-fated Zara! Ha! a cup! Alas!
Thy error then is plain! but I were flint
Not to o'erflow in tribute to thy memory.—

Oh, Garcia !

Whose virtue has renounced thy father's crimes, Seest thou how just the hand of Heaven has been?

Let us, who through our innocence survive,

Still in the paths of honour persevere,
And not from past or present ills despair;
For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds,
And, though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
[Exeunt omnes

EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY ALMERIA.

THE tragedy thus done, I am, you know,
No more a princess, but in statu quo;
And now as unconcern'd this mourning wear,
As if indeed a widow or an heir.

I've leisure now, to mark your sev'ral faces,
And know each critic by his sour grimaces.
To poison plays, I see them where they sit,
Scatter'd like ratsbane up and down the pit;
While others watch, like parish searchers hir'd,
To tell of what disease the play expir'd.
Oh, with what joy they run to spread the news
Of a damn'd poet and departed muse!

But if he 'scape, with what regret they're seiz'd! And how they're disappointed, when they're pleas'd!

Critics to plays for the same end resort,

That surgeons wait on trials in a court:
For innocence condemn'd they've no respect,
Provided they've a body to dissect.

As Sussex men, that dwell upon the shore,
Look out when storms arise, and billows roar,
Devoutly praying, with uplifted hands,
That some well-laden ship may strike the sands,
To whose rich cargo they may make pretence,
And fatten on the spoils of providence;
So critics throng to see a new play split,
And thrive and prosper on the wrecks of wit.
Small hope our poet from these prospects draws;
And therefore to the fair commends his cause.
Your tender hearts to mercy are inclin'd,
With whom he hopes this play will favour find,
Which was an off'ring to the sex design'd.

TAMERLANE.

ROWE.

PROLOGUE.

Or all the muse's various labours, none
Have lasted longer, or have higher flown,
Than those that tell the fame by ancient heroes

won.

With pleasure, Rome, and great Augustus, heard
Arms and the man' sung by the Mantuan bard.
In spite of time, the sacred story lives,
And Cæsar and his empire still survives.
Like him (though much unequal to his flame)
Our author makes a pious prince his theme:
High with the foremost names, in arms he stood,
Had fought, and suffer'd, for his country's good,
Yet sought not fame, but peace, in fields of
blood.

Safe under him his happy people sat,

And griev'd, at distance, for their neighbour's fate;

Whilst with success a Turkish monarch crown'd,
Like spreading flame, deform'd the nations round;
With sword and fire he forc'd his impious way
To lawless pow'r, and universal sway.
Some abject states, for fear, the tyrant join,
Others, for gold, their liberties resign,
And venal princes sold their right divine;

Till Heav'n, the growing evil to redress,
Sent Tamerlane to give the world a peace.

The hero rous'd, asserts the glorious cause,
And to the field the cheerful soldier draws.
Around, in crowds, his valiant leaders wait,
Anxious for glory, and secure of fate;
Well pleas'd, once more, to venture on his side,
And prove that faith again, which had so oft
been tried.

The peaceful fathers, who in senates meet,
Approve an enterprise so just, so great;
While with their prince's arms, their voice thus
join'd,

Gains half the praise of having sav'd mankind.
Ev'n in a circle, where, like this, the fair
Were met, the bright assembly did declare,
Their house, with one consent, were for the

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The modern British drama, Volumen1