Arp. Oh, death! thou gentle end of human sorrows, Still must my weary eye-lids vainly wake

In tedious expectation of thy peace?

Why stand thy thousand thousand doors still open,
To take the wretched in, if stern religion

Guards ev'ry passage, and forbids my entrance,
When urg'd with griefs beyond a mortal sufferance?
But here it must not be. Think then, Arpasia,
Think on the sacred dictates of thy faith,
And let that arm thy virtue to perform

What Cato's daughter durst not-Live, Arpasia,
And dare to be unhappy.

Enter TAMERLANE.

Tam. When fortune smiles upon the soldier's arms, And adds e'en beauty to adorn his conquest, Yet she ordains the fair should know no fears, Such welcome as a camp can give, sultaness, We hope you have receiv'd; it shall be larger, And better as it may.

Arp. Since I have borne

That miserable mark of fatal greatness,
I have forgot all diff'rence of conditions;
Sceptres and fetters are grown equal to me,
And the best change my fate can bring is death.
Tam. Oh! teach my pow'r

To cure those ills which you unjustly suffer,
Lest heav'n should wrest it from my idle hand,
If I look on, and see you weep in vain.

Arp. Not that my soul disdains the gen'rous aid
Thy royal goodness proffers; but, oh, emperor!
Tam. Why is my pity all that I give

To tears like yours? And yet I fear 'tis all;
Nor dare I ask what mighty loss you mourn,
Lest honour should forbid to give it back.

Arp. No, Tamerlane, nor did I mean thou shouldst.
But know (though to the weakness of my sex
I yield these tears) my soul is more than man.
Think I am born a Greek, nor doubt my virtue;

They must be mighty evils that can vanquish
A Spartan courage, and a Christian faith,

Enter BAJAZET.

Baj. To know no thought of rest! to have the mind Still minist'ring fresh plagues, as in a circle, Where one dishonour treads upon another;

What know the fiends beyond it?-Ha! by hell,

[Sees Arpasia and Tamerlane.

There wanted only this to make ine mad.

Comes he to triumph here? to rob me of my love,
And violate the last retreat of happiness?

Tam. But that I read upon thy frowning brow,
That war yet lives and rages in thy breast;
Once more (in pity to the suff'ring world)
I meant to offer peace.

Baj. And mean'st thou too

To treat it with our empress; and to barter

The smiles which fortune gave thee for her favours? Arp. What would the tyrant?

Baj. Seek'st thou thus our friendship?

Is this the royal usage thou didst boast?

[Aside.

Tum. The boiling passion that disturbs thy soul Spreads clouds around, and makes thy purpose dark.— Unriddle what thy mystic fury aims at.

Baj. Is it a riddle? Read it there explain'd; There, in my shame. Now judge me thou, oh prophet,

And equal heav'n, if this demand not rage!
The peasant-hind, begot and born to slavery,
Yet dares assert a husband's sacred right,
And guards his homely couch from violation:
And shall a monarch tamely bear the wrong
Without complaining?

Tam. If I could have wrong'd thee,

If conscious virtue, and all-judging heav'n,
Stood not between, to bar ungovern'd appetite,
What hinder'd, but, in spite of thee my captive,
I might have us'd a victor's boundless power,

And sated every wish my soul could form?
But, to secure thy fears, know, Bajazet,
This is among the things I dare not do.

Baj. By hell, 'tis false! else wherefore art thou pre-
sent?

What cam'st thou for, but to undo my honour?
I found thee holding amorous parley with her,
Gazing and glutting on her wanton eyes,
And bargaining for pleasures yet to come:
My life, I know, is the devoted price-
But take it, I am weary of the pain.

Tam. Yet, ere thou rashly urge my rage too far,

I warn thee to take heed: I am a man,

And have the frailties common to man's nature;
The fiery seeds of wrath are in my temper,

And may be blown up to so fierce a blaze

As wisdom cannot rule. Know, thou hast touch'd me
Ev'n in the nicest, tend'rest part, my honour;

My honour! which, like pow'r, disdains being ques-
tion'd;

Thy breath has blasted my fair virtue's fame,
And mark'd me for a villain, and a tyrant.
Arp. And stand I here an idle looker on,
To see my innocence murder'd and mangled
By barbarous hands, nor can revenge the wrong?
Art thou a man, and dar'st thou use me thus ?

[To Bajazet.
Hast thou not torn me from my native country,
From the dear arms of my lamenting friends,
From my soul's peace, and from my injur'd love,
And driv'n me to the brink of black despair?
And is it in thy malice yet to add

A wound more deep, to sully my white name,
My virtue?-

Baj. Yes, thou hast thy sex's virtues,

Their affectation, pride, ill-nature, noise,

Proneness to change, e'en from the joy that pleas'd

'em:

So gracious is your idol, dear variety,

1

That for another love you would forego
An angel's form, to mingle with a devil's.

Arp. Why sought'st thou not from thy own impious, tribe

A wife like one of these?

Know, I abbor, detest, the crime thou mention'st:
Not that I fear or reverence thee, thou tyrant;
But that my soul, conscious of whence it sprung,
Sits unpolluted in its sacred temple,

And scorns to mingle with a thought so mean.
Tam. Oh, pity! that a greatness so divine
Should meet a fate so wretched, so unequal.
Though blind and wilful to the good that courts thee,
[To Bajazet.
With open-handed bounty heav'n pursues thee,
And bids thee (undeserving as thou art,
And moustrous in thy crimes) be happy yet;
Whilst thou, in fury, dost avert the blessing,
And art an evil genius to thyself.

Baj. No-Thou, thou art my greatest curse on earth! Thou, who bast robb'd me of my crown and glory, And now pursu'st me to the verge of life,

To spoil me of my honour. Thou! thou hypocrite!
That wear'st a pageant outside show of virtue,
To cover the hot thoughts that glow within!
Thou rank adulterer!

Tam. Oh, that thou wert

The lord of all those thousands that lie breathless
On yonder field of blood, that I again

Might hunt thee, in the face of death and danger,
Through the tumultuous battle, and there force thee,
Vanquish'd and sinking underneath my arm,
To own thou hast traduc'd me like a villain.
Baj. Ha! does it gall thee, tartar? By revenge,
It joys me much to find thou feel'st my fury.
Yes, I will echo to thee, thou adulterer!
Thou dost profane the name of king and soldier,
And, like a ruffian bravo, cam'st with force
To violate the holy marriage-bed.

Tam. Wert thou not shelter'd by thy abject state, The captive of my sword, by my just anger,

My breath, like thunder, should confound thy pride, And doom thee dead this instant with a word.

Baj. 'Tis false! my fate's above thee, and thou dar'st

not.

Tam. Ha! dare not! Thou hast rais'd my pond'rous

rage,

And now it falls to crush thee at a blow.

A guard thére!

Seize and drag him to his fate!

Enter Guard.

[They seize Bajazet.

Tyrant, I'll do a double justice on thee;

At once revenge myself, and all mankind.~

Baj. Well dost thou, ere thy violence and lust Invade my bed, thus to begin with murder: Drown all thy fears in blood, and sin securely. Tam. Away!

Arp. [Kneeling] Oh, stay! I charge thee, by renown; By that bright glory thy great soul pursues, Call back the doom of death!

Tam. Fair injur'd excellence,

Why dost thou kneel, and waste such precious pray'rs,
For one to goodness lost, who first undid thee,
Who still pursues, and aggravates the wrong?

Baj. By Alha! no- -I will not wear a life

Bought with such vile dishonour.-Death shall free

me

At once from infamy, and thee, thou traitress!

Arp. No matter, though the whistling winds grow loud,

And the rude tempest roars, 'tis idle rage:
Oh! mark it not; but let thy steady virtue
Be constant to its temper. Save his life,
And save Arpasia from the sport of talkers.
Think how the busy, meddling world will toss
Thy mighty name about, in scurril mirth;
Branding thy vengeance as a foul design;