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

won.

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

Pr. HAIL to the sun! from whose returning light

The cheerful soldier's arms new lustre take,
To deck the pomp of battle. O, my friends!
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

Some accidental passion fires his breast,
Love, as 'tis thought, for a fair Grecian captive)
And adds new horror to his native fury.
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,
I oft 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

sworn,

By the world's lord and maker, lasting peace,
With our great master, and his royal friend,
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

Attendants.

Tum. Yet, yet a little, and destructive slaughter Shall rage around, and mar this beauteous pros

pect;

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-

stows,

Preventing still our wishes. See, great sir The universal joy your soldiers wear,

Omen of prosperous battle.
Impatient of the tedious night, in arms
Watchful they stood, expecting opening day;
And now are hardly by their leaders held
From darting on the foe. Like a hot courser,
That, bounding, paws the mouldering soil, dis-
daining

The rein that checks him, eager for the race.
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 plains Between Angoria's walls and yon tall mountains, That seem to reach the clouds; and now he

comes,

Loaden with spoils and conquest, to my aid.
[Flourish of Trumpets.
Zam. 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 seemed wanting in its better half,
And languished for thy absence; like a prophet,
That waits the inspiration of his god.

Ar. 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 to accept the gift he brings,
Enter SELIMA, MONESES, STRATOCLES, Pri-
soners; Guards, Mutes, &c.

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

Tam. This is indeed to conquer,
And well to be rewarded for thy conquest;
The bloom of opening flowers, unsullied beauty,
Softness, and sweetest innocence she wears,
And looks like nature in the world's first spring.
But say, Axalla-

Sel. Most renowned in war,

[Kneeling to TAM. 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 of your fortune finds. War is the province of ambitious man, Who tears the miserable world for empire; Whilst our weak sex, incapable of wrong, On either side claims privilege of safety. Tam. [raising her.] Rise, royal maid! the pride of haughty power Pays homage, not receives it, from the fair. Thy angry father fiercely calls me forth, And urges me, unwillingly, to arms.

Yet, though our frowning battles menace death, And mortal conflict, think not that we hold

Thy innocence and virtue as our foe.
Here, till the fate of Asia is decided,
In safety stay. To-morrow is your own.
Nor grieve for who may conquer, or who lose;
Fortune on either side shall wait thy wishes.
Sel. Where shall my wonder and my praise
begin?

From the successful labours of thy arms,
Or from a theme more soft, and full of peace,
Thy mercy and thy gentleness? Oh, Tamerlane!
What can I pay thee for this noble usage,
But grateful praise? So Heaven itself is paid.
Give peace, ye powers above, peace to mankind;
Nor let my father wage unequal war,
Against the force of such united virtues!
Tam. Heaven hear thy pious wish!—But since
our prospect

Looks darkly on futurity, till fate
Determine for us, let thy beauty's safety
Be my Axalla's care; in whose glad eyes,
I read what joy the pleasing service gives him.-
Is there amongst thy other prisoners aught

Worthy our knowledge?

Ar. This brave man, my lord,

[To AX.

[Pointing to MON. With long resistance held the combat doubtful. His party, prest with numbers, soon grew faint, And would have left their charge an easy prey; Whilst he alone, undaunted at the odds, Though hopeless to escape, fought well and firmly;

Nor yielded, till, o'ermatched by many hands, He seemed to shame our conquest, whilst he owned it.

Tam. Thou speak'st him as a soldier should a

soldier,

Just to the worth he finds.-I would not war [To MON.

With aught that wears thy virtuous stamp of

It should be Tamerlane.

Tam. A noble freedom

phants,

O, royal sir! let my misfortunes plead,
And wipe away the hostile mark I wore.

I was, when, not long since, my fortune hailed me,
Blessed to my wish, I was the prince Moneses;
Born, and bred up to greatness: witness the blood,
Which through successive heroes' veins, allied
To our Greek emperors, rolled down to me,
Feeds the bright flame of glory in my heart.
Tam. Even that, that princely tie should bind
thee to me,

If virtue were not more than all alliance.

Mon. I have a sister,-oh, severe remembrance! Our noble house's, nay, her sex's pride; Nor think my tongue too lavish, if I speak her Fair as the fame of virtue, and yet chaste As its cold precepts; wise beyond her sex And blooming youth; soft as forgiving mercy, Yet greatly brave, and jealous for her honour: Such as she was, to say I barely loved her, Is poor to my soul's meaning. From our infancy, There grew a mutual tenderness between us, Till, not long since, her vows were kindly plighted To a young lord, the equal of her birth. The happy day was fixed, and now approaching, When faithless Bajazet (upon whose honour, In solemn treaty given, the Greeks depended,) With sudden war, broke in upon the country, Secure of peace, and for defence unready.

Tam. Let majesty no more be held divine, Since kings, who are called gods, profane themselves.

Mon. Among the wretches, whom that deluge swept

Away to slavery, myself and sister,

Then passing near the frontiers to the court, (Which waited for her nuptials) were surprised, And made the captives of the tyrant's power. Soon as we reached his court, we found our usage Beyond what we expected, fair and noble; 'Twas then the storm of your victorious arms Looked black, and seemed to threaten, when he prest me

(By oft repeating instances) to draw

My sword for him: But when he found my soul
Disdained his purpose, he more fiercely told me,
That my Arpasia, my loved sister's fate,
Depended on my courage shewn for him.
I had long learnt to hold myself at nothing;
But for her sake, to ward the blow from her,
I bound my service to the man I hated.
Six days are past, since, by the sultan's order,
I left the pledge of my return behind,
And went to guard this princess to his camp:
The rest the brave Axalla's fortune tells you.
Tam. Wisely the tyrant strove to prop his

Thou hast a tender soul, apt for compassion,
And art thyself a lover and a friend;
Does not this prince's fortune move thy temper?

Ar. Yes, sir, I mourn the brave Moneses' fate,
The merit of his virtue hardly matched
With disadventurous chance: yet, prince, allow

me,

Allow me, from the experience of a lover, To say, one person, whom your story mentioned, (If he survive) is far beyond you wretched: You named the bridegroom of your beauteous sister.

Mon. I did. Oh, most accurst!

Ax. Think what he feels,

Dashed in the fierceness of his expectation:
Then, when the approaching minute of possession
Had wound the imagination to the height-
Think, if he lives!

Mon. He lives! he does: 'tis true
He lives! But how? To be a dog, and dead,
Were Paradise to such a state as his :

He holds down life, as children do a potion, With strong reluctance and convulsive strugglings,

Whilst his misfortunes press him to disgorge it. Tam. Spare the remembrance; 'tis an useless grief,

And adds to the misfortune by repeating.
The revolution of a day may bring

Such turns, as Heaven itself could scarce have promised,

Far, far beyond thy wish: let that hope cheer thee.
Haste, my Axalla, to dispose with safety
Thy beauteous charge, and on the foe revenge
The pain which absence gives; thy other care,
Honour and arms, now summon thy attendance.
Now do thy office well, my soul! Remember
Thy cause, the cause of Heaven and injured earth.
O thou Supreme! if thy great spirit warms
My glowing breast, and fires my soul to arms,
Grant that my sword, assisted by thy power,
This day may peace and happiness restore,
That war and lawless rage may vex the world no
more!

[Exeunt TAMERLANE, MONESES, STRA-
TOCLES, Prince of TANAIS, ZAMA, MIR-
VAN, and Attendants.