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 errör. 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. [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.
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! Öh-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!
Sel. I've sought in vain, for no where can the king
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-
[The Mutes kneel, and mourn over her.
Enter ALMERIA and LEONORA.
Alm. Oh, let me seek him in this horrid cell! For n 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 murdered!
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 weli; 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
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!
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,
And stain the colour of my last adieu.
Horror! a headless trunk! nor lips nor face,
[Coming near the body, starts and lets foll
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
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 cokl
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
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.—
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.
Of all the muse's various labours, none
Have lasted longer, or have higher flown,
Than those that tell the fame by ancient heroes
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
war;
Each urg'd her lover to unsheath his sword,
And never spare a man who broke his word.
Thus fir'd, the brave on to the danger press;
Their arms were crown'd abroad with just suc
SCENE I Before TAMERLANE'S Tent. Enter the Prince of TANAIS, ZAMA, and MIR
Pr. HAIL to the sun! from whose returning
light
The cheerful soldier's arms new lustre take,
friends!
To deck the pomp of battle. O, my
Was ever such a glorious face of war?
See, from this height, how all Galatia's plains,
With nations numberless, are covered o'er;
Who, like a deluge, hide the face of earth,
And leave no object in the vast horizon,
But glittering arms, and skies.
Zam. Our Asian world,
From this important day, expects a lord;
This day they hope an end of all their woes,
Of tyranny, of bondage, and oppression,
From our victorious emperor, Tamerlane.
Mir. Well has our holy Alla mark'd him out,
The scourge of lawless pride, and dire ambition,
The great avenger of the groaning world.
Well has he worn the sacred cause of justice
Upon his prosperous sword. Approving Heaven
Still crowned the righteous warrior with success;
As if it said, Go forth, and be my champion,
Thou, most like me of all my works below.'
Pr. No lust of rule, the common vice of kings,
No furious zeal, inspir'd by hot-brain'd priests,
Ill hid beneath religion's specious name,
E'er drew his temperate courage to the field:
But to redress an injur'd people's wrongs,
To save the weak one from the strong oppressor,
Is all his end of war. And, when he draws
The sword to punish, like relenting Heaven,
He seems unwilling to deface his kind.
Mir. So rich his soul, in every virtuous grace,
That, had not nature made him great by birth,
Yet all the brave had sought him for their friend.
The Christian prince, Axalla, nicely bred
In polished arts of European courts,
For him forsakes his native Italy,
And lives a happy exile in his service.
Pr. Pleased with the gentle manners of that
prince,
Our mighty lord is lavish of his friendship;
Though Omar and the Tartar lords repine,
And loudly tax their monarch as too partial.
Zam. Ere the mid hour of night, from tent to tent,
Unwearied, through the numerous host he past,
Viewing, with careful eyes, each several quarter;
Whilst from his looks, as from divinity,
The soldiers took presage, and cried, Lead on,
Great Alla, and our emperor! lead on
To victory, and everlasting fame.'
Mir. Hear you of Bajazet?
Pr. Late in the evening
A slave, of near attendance on his person,
'Scaped to our camp. From him we learned, the
tyrant,
With rage redoubled, for the fight prepares ;
Some accidental passion fires his breast,
And adds new horror to his native fury.
(Love, as 'tis thought, for a fair Grecian captive)
For five returning suns, scarce was he seen
By any, the most favoured of his court,
But in lascivious ease, among his women,
Lived, from the war retired; or else alone,
In sullen mood, sat meditating plagues
And ruin to the world; till yester morn,
Like fire, that, labouring upwards, rends the earth,
He burst with fury from his tent, commanding
All should be ready for the fight this day.
Zam. I know his temper well, since in his court,
Companion of the brave Axalla's embassy,
Ioft observed him; proud, impatient
Of aught superior, e'en of Heaven that made him;
Fond of false glory, of the savage power
Of ruling without reason, of confounding
Just and unjust, by an unbounded will;
By whom religion, honour, all the bands
That ought to hold the jarring world in peace,
Were held the tricks of state, snares of wise princes,
To draw their easy neighbours to destruction.
Mir. Thrice, by our law and prophet, has he
By the world's lord and maker, lasting peace,
and his royal friend,
With our great master,
The Grecian emperor; as oft, regardless
Of plighted faith, with most unkingly baseness,
Has ta'en the advantage of their absent arms,
Without a war proclaimed, or cause pretended,
To waste, with sword and fire, their fruitful fields;
Like some accursed fiend, who, 'scaped from hell,
Poisons the balmy air through which he flies,
He blasts the bearded corn, and loaded branches,
The labouring hind's best hopes, and marks his
way with ruin.
Pr. But see his fate! The mighty Tamerlane
Comes, like the proxy of inquiring Heaven,
To judge, and to redress. [Flourish of Trumpets.
Enter TAMERLANE, Guards, and other
Tam. Yet, yet a little, and destructive slaughter Shall rage around, and mar this beauteous pros
Pass but an hour, which stands betwixt the lives
Of thousands and eternity, what change
Shall hasty death make in yon glittering plain!
Oh, thou fell monster, War! that in a moment
Layest waste the noblest part of the creation,
The boast and masterpiece of the great Maker,
That wears, in vain, the impression of his image,
Unprivileged from thee !—
Health to our friends, and to our arms success,
[To the Prince, ZAMA, and MIRVAN.
Such as the cause for which we fight deserves!
Pr. Nor can we ask beyond what Heaven be-
Preventing still our wishes. See, great sic
The universal joy your soldiers wear,
|