Our swords were drawn: for such is Heaven's com mand Immutable. By us great Mahomet, And his successor, holy Abubeker, Eum. Now, in the name of Heaven, what faith is That stalks gigantic forth thus arm'd with terrors, That leads embattled legions to the field, And marks its progress out with blood and slaughter? Herb. Bold, frontless men! that impudently dare To blend religion with the worst of crimes! And sacrilegiously usurp that name, To cover fraud, and justify oppression! Eum. Where are your priests? What doctors of Have you e'er sent t'instruct us in its precepts? To these new tracts of truth-This would be friendship, And well might claim our thanks. Cal. Friendship like this With scorn had been receiv'd: your numerous vices, And reigns in mimic state, 'midst idol shows, That we're unworthy of our holy faith, To Heaven, with grief and conscious shame, we own, But what are you, that thus arraign our vices, And consecrate your own? Are you not sons of rapine, foes to peace, Cal. Christians, no— Eum. Then say, Why have you ravag'd all our peaceful borders? Plunder'd our towns? and by what claim e'en now, You tread this ground? Herb. What claim, but that of hunger? The claim of ravenous wolves, that leave their dens To prowl at midnight round some sleeping village, Or watch the shepherd's folded flock for prey? Cal. Blasphemer, know, your fields and towns are ours; Our prophet has bestow'd them on the faithful, Eum. Oh! now indeed you boast a noble title! To sooth his pride, and bribe his fellow madmen! Eum. No-Should we grant you aid, we must be rebels; And tribute is the slavish badge of conquest, Weighty with pearls and gems, we'll send your caliph ; A turban, spun from our Damascus flax, Ten ingots, be the price to buy your absence. Cal. This, and much more, even all your shining wealth, Will soon be ours-Behold our march O'er half your land, like flame through fields of har vest. And, last, view Aiznadin, that vale of blood! There seek the souls of forty thousand Greeks, Herb. Presumptuous men! What though you yet can boast successful guilt, Eum. Have you forgot! Not twice seven years are past, since e'en your prophet, Bold as he was, and boasting aid divine, Abu. No-forgot! We well remember how Medina screen'd And ripening years of glory! Dar. Why, my chiefs, Will you waste time, in offering terms despis'd, Blows would plead better. Cal. Daran, thou say'st true. Christians, here end our truce. Behold, once more The sword of Heaven is drawn! nor shall be sheath'd, But in the bowels of Damascus. Eum. That, Or speedy vengeance, and destruction, due To the proud menacers, as Heaven sees fit! [Exeunt. SCENE III. A Garden. Enter EUDOCIA. Eud. All's hush'd around!-No more the shout of soldiers, And clash of arms, tumultuous, fill the air. Like that, when the loud thunder just has roll'd A second and a louder clap to follow. Enter PHOCYAS. O no-my hero comes, with better omens, And counts, with trembling joy, and jealous transport, The shining heaps which he still fears to lose. Eud. Welcome, thou brave, thou best deserving lover! How do I doubly share the common safety, Since 'tis a debt to thee!-But tell me, Phocyas, Pho. Not yet, Eudocia ; 'tis decreed by Heaven, I must do more to merit thy esteem. Peace, like a frighted dove, has wing'd her flight Eud. False, flattering hope! Vanish'd so soon!--alas, my faithful fears These barbarous foes to peace and love shall soon Eud. Is the truce ended? Must war, alas! renew its bloody rage, Pho. Think for whose sake danger itself has charms. And soldiers, kindled into sudden fury, But I may boldly ask thee of Eumenes, Eud. May blessings still attend thy arms!Methinks I've caught the flame of thy heroic ardour; And now I see thee crown'd with palm and olive; The soldiers bring thee back, with songs of triumph, |