Pharon, go thou, mean while, and fee the fenate
Affembled ftrait-I'll found 'em as I ought.

[Exeunt feverally.

SCENE changes to a Room of State.

Enter Palmira.

Pal. What means this boding terror that ufurps,
In fpite o'me, dominion o'er my heart,
• Converting the fweet flow'r of new-blown hope
To deadly Night-Shade; pois'ning to my foul
The fountain of its blifs'Oh, holy prophet!
Shall I ne'er more attend thy facred leffons?
Oh, Zaphna! much-lov'd youth! I feel for thee
As for myself. -But hold, my final audit
Is now at hand-I tremble for th' event!
Here comes my judge-Now liberty, or bondage!
Enter Alcanor.

Alc. Palmira, whence thofe tears? Truft me, fair mnaid,
Thou art not fall'n into Barbarians hands;
What Mecca can afford of pomp or pleasure,

To call attention from misfortune's lap,
Demand and share it.

Pal. No, my generous victor,

My fuit's for nothing Mecca can afford;

Pris'ner these two long months beneath your roof,

I've tasted fuch benignity and candor,

Whilft your own hands fo labour'd to beguile

The anxious moments of captivity,

That oft' I've call'd my tears ingratitude.

Alc. If ought remains, that's in my power, to fmooth

The rigour of your fate, and crown your wishes,

Why, twould fill

The furrows in my cheeks, and make old

age

Put on its fummer's garb.

Pal. Thus low I blefs thee.

[Kneeling

It is on you, on you alone, Alcanor,

My whole of future happiness depends.

Have pity, then :

Pity, Alcanor, one who's torn from all
That's dear or venerable to her foul;
Restore me then, restore me to my country,
Restore me to my father, prince, and prophet.

Alca

Alc. Is flav'ry dear then? is fraud venerable ?
What country? a tumultuous wand'ring camp!
Pal. My country, Sir, is not a fingle fpot
Of fuch a mold, or fix'd to fuch a clime!
No, 'tis the focial circle of my friends,
The lov'd community in which I'm link'd,
And in whofe welfare all my wishes center.

Alc. Excellent maid! Then Mecca be thy country.
Robb'd of my children, would Palmira deign
To let me call her child, the toil I took
To make her destiny propitious to her,
Would lighten the rough burthen of my own.
But no; you fcorn my country and my laws.

[robber,

Pal. Can I be yours when not my own? Your bounClaim and fhare my gratitude.-But Mahomet [ties Claims right o'er me of parent, prince, and prophet. Alc. Of parent, prince, and prophet! Heavens! that Who, a fcap'd felon, emulates a throne, And, fcoffer at all faiths, proclaims a new one! Pal. Oh ceafe, my lord; this blafphemous abufe On one, whom millions with myself adore, Does violence to my ear; fuch black profaneness 'Gainst heav'n's interpreter, blots out remembrance Of favours paft, and nought fucceeds but horror. Alc. Oh, fuperftitton! thy pernicous rigours, Inflexible to reafon, truth, and nature, Banish humanity the gentleft breasts. Palmira, I lament to fee thee plung'd So deep in error.

Pal. Do you then reject

My juft petition? Can Alcanor's goodness
Be deaf to fuff'ring virtue ?

Name but the ransom,

And Mahomet will treble what you ask.

Alc. There is no ransom Mahomet can offer
Proportion'd to the prize. Trust me, Palmira,
I cannot yield thee up: What! to a tyrant,
Who wrongs thy youth, and mocks thy tender heart
With vile illufions, and fanatic terrors!-

Enter Pharon.

What wouldst thou, Pharon?
Pha. From yon western gate

1

Which opens on Moradia's fertile plains
Mahomet's gen'ral, Mirvan, haftes to greet thee.
Ale. Mirvan, that vile apoftate!

Pha. In one hand

He holds a scimitir, the other bears

An olive-brance, which to our chiefs he waves,
An emblem of his fuit-a martial youth,
Zaphna by name, attends him for our hostage.
Pal. Apart.] Zaphna! Myfterious Heav'n!
Pha. Mirvan advances

This way, my lord, to render you his charge.
Alc. Mirvan advance! How dare the traitor fee me?"
Palmira, thou retire-Pharon, be present.

Enter Mirvan.

After fix years of infamous rebellion

[Exit Palmira,

Against thy native country, doft thou, Mirvan,
Again prophane, with thy detefted prefence,
Thefe facred walls, which once thy hands defended,
But thy bad heart has vilely fince betray'd?
Thou poor deferter of thy country's gods,
Thou base invader of thy country's rights,
What wouldst thou have with me?

Mir. Id pardon thee

Out of compaffion to thy age and fuff'rings,
And high regard for thy experienc'd valour,
Heav'n's great apoftle offers thee in friendship
A hand could crush thee; and I come commiffion'd
To name the terms of peace he deigns to tender.
Alc. He deigns to tender! Infolent impoftor!
Doft thou not, Mirvan, blufh

To ferve this wretch-this bafe of foul, as birth?

Mir. Mahomet's grandeur's in himself; he fhines not With borrow'd luftre.

Plung'd in the night of prejudice, and bound

In fetters of hereditary faith,

My judgment flept; but when I found him born
To mould anew the proftrate univerfe,
I started from my dream, join'd his career,
And fhar'd his arduous and immortal labours.
Once, I must own, I was as blind as thou;
Then wake to glory, and be chang'd like me.

Alc.

Alc. What death to honour, wakʼning to fuch glory! Pha. Oh, what a fall from virtue was that change! Mir. Come, embrace our faith, reign with Mahomet, And, cloath'd in terrors, make the vulgar tremble. Alc. 'Tis Mahomet, and tyrants like to Mahomet, 'Tis Mirvan, and apoftates like to Mirvan, I only would make tremble.-Is it, fay'ft thou, Religion that's the parent of this rapine, This virulence and rage?-No, true religion Is always mild, propitious, and humane; Plays not the tyrant, plants no faith in blood, Nor bears deftruction on her chariot wheels, But stoops to polish, fuccour, and redress, And builds her grandeur on the public good.

Mir. Thou art turn'd Chriftian, fure! fome ftrag gling monk

Has taught thee thefe tame leffons-
Alc. If the Christians

Hold principles like thefe, which reafon dictates,
'Which all our notions of the pow'rs divine
• Declare the focial laws they meant for man,
And all the beauties and delights of nature
'Bear witness to,' the Christians may be right:
Thy fect cannot, who, nurs'd in blood and flaughter,
Worship a cruel and revengeful being,

And draw him always with his thunder round him,
As ripe for the deftruction of mankind.

Mir. If clemency delights thee, learn it here.
Though banifh'd by thy voice his native city,
Though by thy hand robb'd of his only fon,
Mahomet pardons thee; nay farther, begs
The hatred burning 'twixt you be extinguish'd
With reconciliation's generous tear.

Alc. I know thy master's arts; his gen❜rous tears,
Like the refreshing drops that previous fall
To the wild outrage of o'erwhelming earthquakes,
Only fore-run destruction;

Courage he has, not bravery,

For blood and havock are the fure attendants

On his victorious car.

Pha. Leagues he will make too—

Ak. Like other grafping tyrants, till he eyes

B

A lucky

A lucky juncture to enlarge his bounds;
'Then he'll deride 'em, leap o'er ev'ry tie
Of facred guarantee, or fworn protection,
And, when th' opprefs'd ally implores affiftance,
Beneath that mafk, invade the wifl'd-for realms,
And from pure friendship take them to himself.

Mir. Mahomet fights Heaven's battles, bends the bow
To fpread Heaven's laws, and to fubject to faith
The iron neck of error.

Alc. Luft and ambition, Mirvan, are the fprings
Of all his actions, whilft, without one virtue,
Diffimulation, like a flatt'ring painter,
Bedecks him with the colouring of them all.
This is thy master's portrait-But no more-
My foul's inexorable, and my hate

Immortal as the caufe from whence it sprang.
Mir. What caufe-

Alc. The diff'rence between good and evil.
Mir. Thou talk'st to me, Alcanor, with an air
Of a ftern judge, that from his dread tribunal
Intimidates the criminal beneath him.
Refume thy temper, act the minifter,

And treat with me as with th' ambaffador
Of Heaven's apostle, and Arabia's king.

Of

Alc. Arabia's king! What king! Who crown'd him?
Mir. Conqueft.-

Whilft to the stile of conqueror, and of monarch,
Patron of peace he'd add-Name then the price
peace and of Palmira-Boundless treasures,
The fpoils of vanquifh'd monarchs, and the stores
Of rifled provinces are thrown before thee.
Our troops, with matchlefs ardor, haften hither
To lay in ruin this rebellious city;

Stem then the rushing torrent: Mahomet

In perfon comes to claim a conference with thee

For this good purpose.

Ale. Who! Mahomet!

Mir. Yes, he conjures thou'lt grant it.

Alc. Traitor, were I fole ruler here in Mecca, I'd answer thee with chastisement

Mir. Hot man!

I pity thy falfe virtue-But farewel

And