excites admiration, but neither pity, nor delight. The Arpasia of Mrs. Siddons has, indeed, the power of inspiring a degree of horrible wonder in the dying scene; when, dropping down dead at the Sultan's feet, she gives, by the manner and disposition of her fall, such assurance of her having suddenly expired, that an auditor of a lively imagination casts up his eyes to Heaven, as if to catch a view of her departed spirit.

Rowe, after sending many a hero and heroine to their graves, by various untimely ends, died himself peaceably in his own bed, in the year 1718, aged forty-five. The following lines, from this tragedy, seem exactly to describe that joyful fortitude which he professed to experience in his dying moments; and which, probably, he anticipated when he wrote them.

Nor has my soul

"One unrepented guilt upon remembrance, "To make me dread the justice of hereafter; "But standing now on the last verge of life,

66

Boldly I view the vast abyss, eternity,

Eager to plunge, and leave my cares behind."

TAMERLANE.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.

Before TAMERLANE'S Tent.

Enter the PRINCE OF TANAIS, ZAMA, and MIRVAN. Prince. Hail to the sun! from whose returning

light

The cheerful soldier's arms new lustre take,

friends!

To deck the pomp of battle. Oh, my
Was ever such a glorious face of war?
See; from this height, how all Galatia's plains
With nations numberless are cover'd o'er;
Who, like a deluge, hide the face of earth,
And leave no object in the vast horizon,
But glitt'ring 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 emp'ror, Tamerlane.
Mir. Hear you of Bajazet?

Prince. Late in the evening,

A slave of near attendance on his person

'Scap'd to our camp. From him we learn'd, the ty

rant,

With rage redoubled, for the fight prepares;
Some accidental passion fires his breast,

(Love, as 'tis thought, for a fair Grecian captive)
And adds new horror to his native fury.
But see his fate! The mighty Tamerlane
Comes, like the proxy of inquiring Heav'n,
To judge, and to redress.

[Flourish of Trumpets.

Enter TAMERLANE, GUARDS, and other

ATTENDANTS.

Tam. Yet, yet a little, and destructive slaughter Shall rage around, and mar this beauteous prospect; Pass but an hour, which stands betwixt the lives Of thousands and eternity. What change Shall hasty death make in yon glitt'ring plain? Oh, thou fell monster, war! that in a moment Lay'st waste the noblest part of the creation, The boast and masterpiece of the great Maker, That wears in vain th'impression of his image, Unprivileg'd 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! Prince. Nor can we ask beyond what Heav'n bestows,

Preventing still our wishes. See, great sir,

The universal joy your

soldiers wear,

Omen of prosp'rous battle.

Impatient of the tedious night, in arms

Watchful they stood, expecting op'ning day;
And now are hardly by their leaders held

From darting on the foe.

Tam. Yes, prince, I mean to give a loose to war. This morn Axalla, with my Parthian horse,

Arrives to join me.

He, who, like a storm,

Swept, with his flying squadrons, all the plain

Between Angoria's walls and yon tall monntains,
That seem to reach the clouds; and now he comes,
Loaden with spoils and conquests, to my aid.
[Flourish of Trumpets.
Zama. These trumpets speak his presence-

Enter AXALLA, who kneels to TAMERLANE.
Tam. Welcome! thou worthy partner of my laurels,
Thou brother of my choice, a band more sacred
Than nature's brittle tie. By holy friendship!
Glory and fame stood still for thy arrival;
My soul seem'd wanting in its better half,
And languish'd for thy absence.

Ax. My emperor! My ever royal master!
To whom my secret soul more lowly bends,
Than forms of outward worship can express;
How poorly does your soldier pay this goodness,
Who wears his every hour of life out for you!
Yet 'tis his all, and what he has, he offers;
Nor now disdain t' accept the gift he brings,

Enter SELIMA, MONESES, Prisoners; GUARDS,
MUTES, &C.

This earnest of your fortune. See, my lord,
The noblest prize that ever grac'd my arms!
Approach, my fair-

Tam. This is indeed to conquer,

And well to be rewarded for thy conquest;
The bloom of op'ning flow'rs, unsully'd beauty,
Softness, and sweetest innocence she wears,
And looks like nature in the world's first spring.
But say, Axalla-

:

Sel. Most renown'd in war,

[Kneeling to TAMERLANE. Look with compassion on a captive maid, Though born of hostile blood; nor let my birth, Derived from Bajazet, prevent that mercy

. Which every subject ofi your fortune finds.