There is a father to be found above, bosom: cruel! Zara. Would I had not! He loves me, even to death; and I reward him I promis'd too to keep this fatal secret; But I deserv'd him not; I should have been And hazard thus a vict'ry bravely won? Zara. Inhuman victory!-thou dost not know To him who made that heart I offer it: Oh, all ye royal ancestors! Oh, father! You who deprive me of this gen'rous lover! Gen'rous and just, beneficent and brave, Were be but Christian-What can man be more? I wish, methinks, this rev'rend priest was come Tet know not why I should not dare to hope, Osman. Madam, there was a time when my Made it a virtue to be lost in love; Have fortune's claim, at least, to sure success: Yet shunning and disdaining low complaint, Zara. Give my trembling heart Osman. Osman, in every trial, shall re- That he is emperor. Whate'er I suffer, me. Go, madam; you are free-from Osman's pow'r : Expect no wrongs; but see his face no more. Zara. At last 'tis come-the fear'd, the murd'ring moment Is come; and I am curs'd by earth and heaven! Thou know'st the mighty Saladine, who first If you- world, 1 Zara. If I am doom'd to lose you! Sel. What mean you, madam? Ah, you if I must wander o'er an empty world, do not sec Zara. Yes, yes, I see it all; I am not blind: e my country, and my race condemn me; I see that, spite of all, I still love Osman. What if I now go throw me at his feet, Unloving and unlov'd. Oh! yet do justice But, ah! my heart was never known to Osman. tell him there sincerely what I am? ther's life, Expose the Christians, and betray you all. Sel. I know him the protector of a faith, Osman. Rise! What! is it love to force yourself to wound Proud as I am, I must confess one wish O! spare the needless pains: art was not made Zara. Alas! I have no art; not even enough| To hide this love, and this distress you give me. Osman. New riddles! Speak with plainness to my soul; What canst thou mean? Zara. I have no power to speak it, Is it some Christian plot grown ripe against me? of Osman. Zara. Ah! would to heav'n our duties were united: But this day, But this one sad, unhappy day, permit me, I will not have a thought conceal'd from you. Osman. If it must be, it must. Be pleas'd, my will Takes purpose from your wishes; and consent Osman. And can you, Zara, leave me? Too soon, as yet, to wrong my easy faith. despair! Osman. Be as 'twill, it shall be read. [Opens the Letter. Fate, be thy call obey'd.-Orasmin, mark— Hell! tortures! death! and woman!-What, Orasmin, Are we awake?-Heard'st thou?-Can this be Zara? Oras. Would I had lost all sense! for what Has cover'd my afflicted heart with horror. To an affront like this you cannot, must not, Osman. Seek her this instant-go, Orasmin, fly! Show her this letter: bid her read and tremble: Would I were dead! Would I had died, unconscious of this shame Oras. Never did prince receive so bold Now, when her hopes have wings, and every This fountain of her tears, which my wea wish Is courted to be lively! When I love, Enter MELIDOR, with ORASMIN. L' What will they all produce but Zara's tears, Had I not seen, had I not read, such proof Spite of her frauds, disguise, and artifice, Osman. Thy counsel charms me! We'll Here, take this fatal letter; choose a slave Whom yet she never saw, and who retains His tried fidelity-dispatch-be gone. [Exit Orasmin. Now whither shall I turn my eyes and steps The surest way to shun her, and give time For this discovering trial?—Heaven! she's here! Re-enter ZARA. So, madam! fortune will befriend my cause, To end our mutual pain, that both may rest. love: But you deceiv'd yourself, and injur'd me. There is, I'm told, an object more deserving Your love than Osman: I would know his name. Be just, nor trifle with my anger: tell me Now, while expiring pity struggles faint; Wale I have yet, perhaps, the power to pardon, bive up the bold invader of my claim, And let him die to save thee. Thou art known. Think and resolve. While I yet speak, renounce him; While yet the thunder rolls suspended, stay it; Let thy voice charm me, and recall my soul, 1:at turns averse, and dwells no more on Zara. Zara. Can it be Osman speaks, and speaks to Zara? Learn, cruel! learn that this afflicted heart, This beart which heaven delights to prove by What harsh, mysterious words were those I heard? Osman. What fears should Osman feel, since Zara loves him? Zara. I cannot live, and answer to your voice In that reproachful tone; your angry eye Osman should disbelieve it?-Again, again Re-enter ORASMIN. Orasmin, she's perfidious, even beyond Her sex's undiscover'd power of seeming. Say, hast thou chosen a slave?-Is he instructed? Haste to detect her vileness and my wrongs. Oras. Punctually I have obey'd your whole command: But have you arm'd, my lord, your injur'd heart, With coldness and indifference? Can you hear, All painless and unmov'd, the false one's shame? Ösman. Orasmin, I adore her more than ever. Oras. My lord! my emperor! forbid it, heaven! Osman. I have discern'd a gleam of distant hope. Now hear me with attention.-Soon as night Has thrown her welcome shadows o'er the palace; When this Nerestan, this ungrateful Christian, Then, bound in fetters and o'erwhelm'd with shame, Conduct the daring traitor to my presence: But, above all, be sure you hurt not Zara; Mindful to what supreme excess I love. [Exit Orasmin. On this last trial all my hopes depend. Prophet, for once thy kind assistance lend, Dispel the doubts that rack my anxious breast: If Zara's innocent, thy Osman's bless'd. [Exit. ACT V. SCENE I.-Enter ZARA and SELIMA. Zara, Sooth me no longer with this vain desire; To a recluse like me, who dares henceforth Enter MELidor. Mel. This letter, trusted to my hands, re ceive, Enter OSMAN and ORASMIN. Osman. Swifter, ye hours, move on; my fury glows Impatient, and would push the wheels of time. How now? What message dost thou bring? Speak boldly. [Aside. What answer gave she to the letter sent her? Mel. She blush'd, and trembled, and grew pale, and paus'd; Zura. I wish, my friend, the comfort of your counsel. Sel. Retire-you shall be call'd-wait near -go, leave us. [Exit Melidor. Zara. Read this, and tell me what I ought to answer: For I would gladly hear my brother's voice. Sel. Say rather you would hear the voice of heaven. 'Tis not your brother calls you, but your God. Zara. I know it, nor resist his awful will; Thou know'st that I have bound my soul by oath; But can I, ought I, to engage myself, Your love speaks loudest to your shrinking soul. Yet cannot your neglected heart efface Zara. What reproach Can I with justice make him?-I indeed What resolution will your virtue take? From the seraglio death alone will free me. Then blush'd, and read it, and again grew pale; And wept, and smil'd, and doubted, and resolv'd: For after all this race of varied passions, When she had sent me out, and call'd me back, Tell him (she cried) who has intrusted thee, That Zara's heart is fix'd, nor shrinks at danger; And that my faithful friend will, at the hour, Expect and introduce him to his wish. Osman. Enough; be gone! I have no ear for more. [To the Slave. Leave me, thou too, Orasmin. Leave me, life, For ev'ry mortal aspect moves my hate: [To Orasmin. Leave me to my distraction, [Exit Orasmin. Who am I? Heav'n! Who am I? What resolve I? Zara! Nerestan! sound these words like names Decreed to join? Why pause I? Perish ZaraWould I could tear her image from my heart. To what excess of tenderness I lov'd her: Oras. Tears! Oh, heaven! Re-enter MELIDOR, with SELIMA. Go-tell the Christian who intrusted thee, That Zara's heart is fix'd, nor shrinks at danger; And that my faithful friend will, at the hour, Expect and introduce him to his wish. Away-the sultan comes; he must not find us. [Exeunt Zarn and Selima. At my revenge too, tremble-for 'tis due, Oh, my unhappy lord! I tremble for youOsman. Do-tremble at my sufferings, my love; And will not be deluded. Oras. Hark! I hear The steps of men along the neighb'ring wall! Osman. Fly! seize him! 'tis Nerestan! Wait no chains, But drag him down to my impatient eye. [Exit Oras. Osman. Dost thou behold her, slave? Osman. Sister! Didst thou say sister? If thou didst, Bless me with deafness, heaven! Ner. Tyrant! I did. She was my sister. All that now is left thee, Enter ZARA and SELIMA, in the dark. known sound It is so dark, I tremble as I step, heaven Would blush, should I forbear: now, Zara, now! [Drops the Dagger. I must not, cannot strike, the starting steel, Unwilling, flies my hand, and shuns to wound her. Zara. This is the private path; come near- Are we not notic'd, think'st thou? It cannot now be long, ere we shall meet him. come There now remains but mine of all the blood, Which through thy father's cruel reign and thine, Has never ceas'd to stream on Syria's sands. Who's there? Nerestan! Is it you? O wel-Restore a wretch to his unhappy race; Nor hope that torments, after such a scene, Osman. [Stabs her.] This to thy heart. Can force one feeble groan to feast thy anger. 'Tis not the traitor meets thee, I waste my fruitless words in empty air; The tyrant, o'er the bleeding wound he made, Hangs his unmoving eye, and heeds not me. Osman. Oh, Zara! Tis the betray'd, who writes it in thy blood. Zara. Oh, gracious heaven! receive my parting soul, And take thy trembling servant to thy mercy. [Dies. Oras. Alas, my lord, return! Whither would grief Osman. Soul! then revenge has reach'd Transport your gen'rous heart? This Christian thee. I will now Hlaste from this fatal place: I cannot leave her! In a wide, empty world, with nothing round me, But penitence and pain: and yet 'twas just. Re-enter ORASMIN, with NERESTAN Approach, thou wretch! thou more than curs'd! come near! Thou who, in gratitude for freedom gain'd, Oras. All is prepar'd. dog Osman. Take off his fetters, and observe To him and all his friends, give instant liberty: Thy miseries, shall mourn 'em with their tears; Osman. Thy wanton eyes look round in But, if thou tell'st 'em mine, and tell'st 'em search of her hose love, descending to a slave like thee, - my dishonour'd hand receiv'd her doom. 'where she lies Ner. Ob, fatal, rash mistake! truly, They who shall hate my crime, shall pity me. hand Has stain'd with blood far dearer than my own; |