Baj. I see, 'tis vain

To court thy stubborn temper with endearments.
Resolve, this moment, to return my love,
And be the willing partner of my flight,
Or, by the prophet's holy law, thou dy'st.

Arp. And dost thou hope to fright me with the phantom,

Death? 'Tis the greatest mercy thou canst give;
So frequent are the murders of thy reign,

One day scarce passing by unmark'd with blood,
That children, by long use, have learnt to scorn it.
Know, I disdain to aid thy treach'rous purpose,
And shouldst thou dare to force me, with my cries
I will call Heav'n and earth to my assistance.

Baj. Confusion! dost thou brave me? But my wrath

Shall find a passage to thy swelling heart,
And rack thee worse than all the pains of death.
That Grecian dog, the minion of thy wishes,
Shall be dragg'd forth, and butcher'd in thy sight;
Thou shalt behold him, when his pangs are terrible,
Till thou shalt rend thy hair, tear out thy eyes,
And curse thy pride; while I applaud my vengeance.
Arp. Oh, fatal image! All my pow'rs give way,
And resolution sickens at the thought.
Come, all ye great examples of my sex,
Chaste virgins, tender wives, and pious matrons;
Come to my aid, and teach me to defy
The malice of this fiend! I feel, I feel
Your sacred spirit arm me to resistance.
Yes, tyrant, I will stand this shock of fate;
Will live to triumph o'er thee, for a moment,
Then die well pleas'd, and follow my Moneses.
Baj. Thou talk'st it well. But talking is thy pri
vilege;

'Tis all the boasted courage of thy sex;

Though, for thy soul, thou dar'st not meet the danger. Arp. By all my hopes of happiness, I dare!

Baj. This moment is the trial.
Arp. Let it come!

This moment, then, shall show I am a Greek,
And speak my country's courage in my suff'ring.

Baj. Here, mercy, I disclaim thee! Mark me, traitress!

My love prepares a victim to thy pride,

And when it greets thee next, 'twill be in blood.

[Exit.
Arp. My heart beats higher, and my nimble spirits
Ride swiftly through their purple channels round.
And see, my last of sorrows is at hand;
Death and Moneses come together to me;
As if my stars, that had so long been cruel,
Grew kind at last, and gave me all I wish.

Enter MONESES, guarded by some MUTES; others
attending with a Cup of Poison and a Bow-String.
Mon. I charge ye, O ye ministers of fate!
Be swift to execute your master's will;
Bear me to my Arpasia; let me tell her,
The tyrant is grown kind. He bids me go,
And die beneath her feet.

Arp. If it be happiness, alas! to die,
To lie forgotten in the silent grave,

To love and glory lost, and from among

The great Creator's works expung'd and blotted,

Then, very shortly, shall we both be happy,

Mon. There is no room for doubt; 'tis certain bliss.

The tyrant's cruel violence, thy loss,

soul

Already seem more light; nor has my
One unrepented guilt upon remembrance,
To make me dread the justice of hereafter;
But standing now on the last verge of life,
Boldly I view the vast abyss, eternity,
Eager to plunge, and leave my woes behind me.

Arp. By all the truth of our past loves, I vow,
To die appears a very nothing to me.

This very now I could put off my being
Without a groan; but to behold thee die!
Nature shrinks in me at the dreadful thought,
Nor can my constancy sustain this blow.

Mon. Since thou art arm'd for all things after death,
Why should the pomp and preparation of it
Be frightful to thy eyes? There's not a pain,
Which age or sickness brings, the least disorder,
That vexes any part of this fine frame,

But's full as grievous. All that the mind feels
Is much, much, more.-And see, I go to prove it.

Enter a MUTE; he signs to the rest, who proffer a
Bow-String to MON ESES.

Arp. Think, ere we part!—

Mon. Of what?

Arp. Of something soft,

Tender and kind, of something wondrous sad.

Oh, my full soul!

Mon. My tongue is at a loss;

Thoughts crowd so fast, thy name is all I've left,
My kindest, truest, dearest, best Arpasia!

[The MUTES struggle with him.

Arp. I have a thousand, thousand, things to utter,

A thousand more to hear yet.

Barbarous villains!

Give me a minute. Speak to me, Moneses!

Mon. Speak to thee? 'Tis the business of my life,

"Tis all the use I have for vital air.

Stand off, ye slaves! To tell thee that my heart
Is full of thee; that, even at this dread moment,
My fond eyes gaze with joy and rapture on thee;
Angels, and light itself, are not so fair.

Enter BAJAZET, HALY, and ATTENDANTS. Baj. Ha! wherefore lives this dog? Be quick, ye slaves!

And rid me of my pain.

F

Mon. For only death,

And the last night, can shut out my Arpasia.

[The MUTES strangle MONESES. Arp. Oh, dismal! 'tis not to be borne! Ye moralists!

Ye talkers! what are all your precepts now?
Patience! Distraction! Blast the tyrant, blast him,
Avenging lightnings! Snatch him hence, ye fiends!
Love! Death! Moneses !--Oh!
[She dies.
Baj. Can it be possible? Can rage and grief,

Can love and indignation be so fierce,
So mortal, in a woman's heart? Confusion!
Is she escap'd then? What is royalty,

If those, that are my slaves, and should live for me,
Can die, and bid defiance to my power?

Enter the DERVISE.

Der. The valiant Omar sends, to tell thy greatness The hour of flight is come, and urges haste; Since he descries, near Tamerlane's pavilion, Bright troops of crowding torches, who from thence, On either hand stretch far into the night, And seem to form a shining front of battle; Behold, ev'n from this place thou may'st discern them. [Looking out.

Baj. By Alla, yes! they cast a day around them, And the plain seems thick set with stars, as heav'n. Ha! or my eyes are false, they move this way; Tis certain so. Fly, Haly, to our daughter.

[Exit HALY. Let some secure the christian prince, Axalla ;We will begone this minute.

Enter OMAR.

Omar. Lost! undone !

Baj. What mean'st thou?

Omar. All our hopes of flight are lost. Mirvan and Zama, with the Parthian horse, Enclose us round, they hold us in a toil.

Baj. Ha! whence this unexpected curse of chance? Omar. Too late I learnt, that, early in the night, A slave was suffer'd, by the princess' order, To pass the guard. I clove the villain down, Who yielded to his flight: but that's poor vengeance! That fugitive has rais'd the camp upon us, And, unperceiv'd, by favour of the night, In silence they have march'd to intercept us. Baj. My daughter! Oh, the traitress!

Der. Yet, we have

Axalla in our power; and angry Tamerlane

Will buy his fav'rite's life, on any terms.

Omar. With those few friends I have, I, for a

while,

Can face their force: if they refuse us peace,

Revenge shall sweeten ruin.

Enter HALY, with SELIMA, weeping.

[Exit.

Baj. See where she comes, with well dissembled innocence;

With truth and faith so lovely in her face,

As if she durst e'en disavow the falsehood.-
Hop'st thou to make amends with trifling tears,
For my lost crown, and disappointed vengeance?
Ungrateful Selima! thy father's curse!

Bring forth the minion of her foolish heart!
He dies this moment.-

Haly. 'Would I could not speak

The crime of fatal love! The slave, who fled,
By whom we are undone, was that Axalla.
Baj. Ha! say'st thou ?

Haly. Hid beneath that vile appearance,
The princess found a means for his escape.