ACT III.

SCENE I-CALED'S Tent.

What can this bode?-Let me speak plainer

yet;

Is it to propagate th' unspotted law
We fight? Tis well; it is a noble cause;
But much I fear infection is among us;

in bound with cords.

The rounds to-night, ere the last hour of prayer From tent to tent, and warn'd them to be ready. What must be done?

Caled. Thou know'st th' important news, Which we have intercepted by this slave, Of a new army's march. The time now calls, While these soft Syrians are dissolved in riot, Fool'd with success, and not suspecting danger, Neglectful of their watch, or else fast bound In chains of sleep, companion of debauches, To form a new attack ere break of day, So, like the wounded leopard, shall we rush From out our covers on these drowsy hunters, And seize them, unprepared to 'scape our venge

ance.

Abu. Great captain of the armies of the faith-
ful!

I know thy mighty and unconquer'd spirit;
Yet hear me, Caled, hear and weigh my doubts,
Our angry prophet frowns upon our vices,
And visits us in blood. Why else did terror,
Unknown before, seize all our stoutest bands?
The angel of destruction was abroad;
The archers of the tribe of Thoal fled,
So long renown'd, or spent their shafts in vain ;
The feather'd flights err'd through the boundless
air,

Or the death turn'd on him that drew the bow!

We learn the Christian vices we chastise,
And tempted with the pleasures of the soil,
More than with distant hopes of Paradise,
I fear may soon-but, oh, avert it Heaven!
Fall even a prey to our own spoils and conquests.
Caled. No-thou mistak'st; thy pious zeal
deceives thee.

Our prophet only chides our sluggard valour.
Thou saw'st how in the vale of Honan once

The troops, as now defeated, fled confused
Even to the gates of Mecca's holy city;
'Till Mahomet himself there stopp'd their en-
trance,

A javelin in his hand, and turn'd them back
Upon the foe; they fought again and conquered.
His own example points us out the way.
Behold how we may best appease his wrath!

Abu. Well-be it then resolved. Th' indulgent hour

Of better fortune is, I hope, at hand.
And yet, since Phocyas has appear'd its cham-
pion,

How has this city raised its drooping head!
As if some charm prevail'd where'er he fought;
Our strength seems wither'd, and our feeble wes-
pons

Forget their wonted triumph-were he absent-
Caled. I would have sought him out in the last

action

To single fight, and put that charm to proof;
Had not a foul and sudden mist arose
Ere I arrived, to have restored the combat..
But let it be 'tis past. We yet may meet,
And 'twill be known whose arm is then the
stronger.

Enter DARAN.

Abu. [To CALED.] He hears thee not;
His eyes are fix'd on earth; some deep distress
Is at his heart. This is no common captive.
Caled. A lion in the toils! We soon shall
tame him.

Still art thou dumb ?-Nay, 'tis in vain to cast
Thy gloomy looks so oft around this place,
Or frown upon thy bonds-thou canst not 'scape.
Pho. Then be it so- -the worst is pass'd al-
ready,

And life is now not worth a moment's pause.
Do you not know me yet-think of the man
You have most cause to curse, and I am he.
Caled. Ha! Phocyas?

Abu. Phocyas!-Mahomet, we thank thee!
Now dost thou smile again.

Daran. [Aside.] O devil, devil!

And I not know him!-'twas but yesterday
He kill'd my horse, and drove me from the field.
Now I'm revenged! No; hold you there, not yet,
Not while he lives.

Caled. [Aside.] This is indeed a prize!
Is it because thou know'st what slaughter'd heaps
There yet unburied lie without the camp,
Whose ghosts have all this night, passing the
Zorat,

Call'd from the bridge of death to thee to follow,
That now thou'rt here to answer to their cry?
Howe'er it be, thou know'st thy welcome-
Pho. Yes,

That woman- -'twas for her-How shall I speak it?

Eudocia, Oh farewell!-I'll tell you, then,
As fast as these heart-rending sighs will let me;
I loved the daughter of the proud Eumenes,
And long in secret woo'd her; not unwelcome
To her my visits; but I fear'd her father,
Who oft had press'd her to detested nuptials,
And therefore durst not, 'till this night of joy,
Avow to him my courtship. Now I thought her
Mine, by a double claim, of mutual vows,
And service yielded at his greatest need:
When, as I moved my suit, with sour disdain,
He mock'd my service, and forbade my love;
Degraded me from the command I bore,
And with defiance bade me seek the foe.
How has his curse prevail'd!-The generous
maid

Was won by my distress to leave the city;
And cruel fortune made me thus your prey.
Abu. [Aside.] My soul is moved-Thou wert
a man, oh, prophet!

Forgive, if 'tis a crime, a human sorrow,
For injured worth, though in an enemy!
Pho. Now since you have heard my story,
set me free,

That I may save her yet, dearer than life,
From a tyrannic father's threaten'd force;
Gold, gems, and purple vests, shall pay my ran-
som;

know

I'm ready-lead me to them; I can bear
The worst of ills from you. You're not my
friends,

My countrymen.-Yet were you men, I could
Unfold a story-But no more-Eumenes,
Thou hast thy wish, and I am now-a worm!
Abu. [To CALED aside.] Leader of armies,
hear him! for my mind
Presages good accruing to our cause
By this event.

Caled. I tell thee then, thou wrong'st us,
To think our hearts thus steel'd, our ears deaf
To all that thou may'st utter. Speak, disclose
The secret woes that throbs within thy breast.
Now, by the silent hours of night, we'll hear thee,
And mute attention shall await thy words.

Pho. This is not then the palace in Damascus ! If you will hear, then I indeed have wrong'd

In fight, nor break its truce with you for ever. Caled. No-there's one way, a better, and but

one,

To save thyself, and make some reparation
For all the numbers thy bold hand has slain.
Pho. Oh, name it quickly, and my soul will
bless thee!

Caled. Embrace our faith, and share with us our fortunes,

Pho. Then I am lost again!

Caled. What; when we offer

Not freedom only, but to raise thee high
To greatness, conquest, glory, heavenly bliss!

Pho. To sink me down to infamy, perdition, Here and hereafter! Make my name a curse To present times, to every future age

A proverb and a scorn!-take back thy mercy,. And know I now disdain it.

Caled. As thou wilt,

The time 's too precious to be wasted longer
In words with thee. Thou know'st thy doom

-farewell.

Abu. [To CAL. aside.] Hear me, Caled, grant him some short space; Perhaps he will at length accept thy bounty. Try him, at least

Caled. Well-be it so, then. Daran, Guard well thy charge-Thou hast an hour to live;

If thou art wise, thou may'st prolong that term,
If not-why-Fare thee well, and think of death.
[Exeunt CALED and ABU.
Pho. [DAR. waiting at a distance.] Farewell,
and think of death! Was it not so?
Do murderers then preach morality?
But how to think of what the living know not,
And the dead cannot, or else may not tell?
What art thou, O thou great mysterious terror!
The way to thee we know! disease, famine,
Sword, fire, and all thy ever-open gates
That day and night stand ready to receive us,

that veil ?

Yet death's not there-No; 'tis a point of time,

The verge 'twixt mortal and immortal beings.
It mocks our thoughts! On this side all is life;
And when we have reach'd it, in that very in-

stant

'Tis past the thinking of! Oh! if it be
The pangs, the throes, the agonizing struggles
When soul and body part, sure I have felt it,
And there's no more to fear.

Daran. [Aside.] Suppose I now

beams

orders?

trifles

I wish I durst!-Yet what I dare I'll do, Your jewels, christian-You'll not need these [Searching him. Pho. I pray thee, slave, stand off-my soul's too busy

To lose a thought on thee.

Was not the founder of our law a robber? Why 'twas for that I left my country's gods, Menaph and Uzza. Better still be pagan, Than starve with a new faith.

Abu. What dost thou mutter?

Daran, withdraw, and better learn thy duty.

[Exit DARAN.

Phocyas, perhaps, thou know'st me not-
Pho. I know

Thy name Abudah, and thy office here,

The second in command. What more thou art Indeed I cannot tell.

Abu. True, for thou yet

Know'st not I am thy friend.
Pho. Is't possible

Thou speak'st me fair.

Abu. What dost thou think of life?

Pho. I think not of it; death was in my
thoughts.

On hard conditions life were but a load.
And I will lay it down.

Abu. Art thou resolved?

Pho. I am, unless thou bring'st me better

terms

Than those I have rejected.

Abu. Think again.

Caled, by me, once more renews that offer. Pho. Thou say'st thou art my friend! dost thou try

Why

To shake the settled temper of my breast?
My soul hath just discharged her cumbrous train
Of hopes and fears, prepared to take her voyage
To other seats, where she may rest in peace;
And now thou call'st me back, to beat again
The painful road of life-Tempt me no more
To be a wretch, for I despise the offer.

Abu. The general knows thee brave, and 'tis for that

He seeks alliance with thy noble virtues.

out

From swift destruction; know, ere day shall

dawn,

Damascus will in blood lament its fall!
We've heard what army is design'd to march
Too late to save her. Now, e'en now, our force
Is just preparing for a fresh assault.
Now too thou might'st revenge thy wrongs-so
Caled
thee;
Charged me to say, and more-that he invites
-to share with him
Thou know'st the terms-

the conquest.

Pho. Conquest !-Revenge-Hold, let me think-O horror! Revenge!--O what revenge? Bleed on, my wounds,

For thus to be revenged, were it not worse
Than all that I can suffer?-But Eudocia-
Where will she then-Shield her, ye pitying
powers,
And let me die in peace!

Abu. Hear me once more, "Tis all I have to offer; mark me now Caled has sworn Eudocia shall be safe. Pho. Ha! safe-but how! A wretched captive too!

Abu. He swears she shall be free, she shall be
thine.
Pho. Then I am lost indeed.
bounty!

O cruel

then thus treat me?

No! he believes I am so poor of soul,

Thy charge awaits thee. Where's the stubborn captive?

Abu. Indeed he's brave. I left him for a moment

In the next tent. He's scarcely yet himself.
Caled. But is he ours?

Abu. The threats of death are nothing;
Though thy last message shook his soul, as winds
On the bleak hills bend down some lofty pine
Yet still he held his root, till I found means,
Abating somewhat of thy first demand,
If not to make him wholly ours, at least
To gain sufficient to our end.

Caled. Say how?

Abu. Oft he inclined, oft started back; at last, When just consenting, for a while he paused, Stood fix'd in thought, and lift his eyes to heaven: Then, as with fresh recover'd force, cried out, Renounce my faith! Never-I answer'd, No, That now he should not do it.

Caled. How!

Abu. Yet hear,

For since I saw him now so lost in passion,
That must be left to his more temperate thoughts.
Mean time I urged, conjured, at last constrain'd
him

By all he held most dear, nay, by the voice
Of Providence, that call'd him now to save,
With her he loved, perhaps the lives of thou-
sands,

No longer to resist his better fate,
But join his arms in present action with us,
And swear he would be faithful.

Caled. What, no more?
Then he's a christian still!

Abu. Have patience yet:

For if by him we can surprise the city-

Caled. Say'st thou ?

Abu. Hear what's agreed; but on the terms That every unresisting life be spared.

I shall command some chosen faithful bands,
Phocyas will guide us to the gate, from whence
He late escaped, nor do we doubt but there
With ease to gain lmittance,

Caled. This is something.
And yet I do not like this half-ally-

Is he not still a christian ?-But no matter-
Mean time I will attack the eastern gate;
Who first succeeds gives entrance to the rest.
Hear, all!-Prepare ye now for boldest deeds,
And know, the prophet will reward your valour.
Think that we all to certain triumph move;
Who falls in fight yet meets the prize above.
There, in the gardens of eternal spring,
While birds of Paradise around you sing,
Each, with his blooming beauty by his side,
Shall drink rich wines that in full rivers glide,
Breathe fragrant gales o'er fields of spice that

blow,

And gather fruits immortal as they grow; Ecstatic bliss shall your whole powers employ, And every sense be lost in every joy.

ACT IV.

[Exeunt.

Curse on those terms! The city's mine by storm Fall on,

I say

Abu. Nay then, I swear ye shall not.
Caled. Ha!- -Who am I?

Abu. The general-and I know

What reverence is your due.

[CALED gives signs to his men to fall en -Nay, he who stirs,

First makes his way through me. My honours pledge;

Rob me of that who dares. [They stop.] I know thee, Caled,

Chief in command; bold, valiant, wise, and faithful;

But yet, remember, I'm a Mussulman; Nay, more, thou know'st, companion of the pr phet,

And what we vow is sacred.

Caled. Thou'rt a christian,

I swear thou art, and hast betray'd the faith,
Curse on thy new allies!

Abu. No more-this strife:
But ill beseems the servants of the caliph,
And cast reproach-Christians, withdraw a
while;

I pledge my life to answer the conditions—
[Exeunt EUMENES, HERBIS, 4
Why, Caled, do we thus expose ourselves
A scorn to nations that despise our law?
Thou call'st me christian--What! is it becaus
I prize my plighted faith, that I'm a christian ?
Come, 'tis not well, and if-

Caleb. What terms are yielded?

Abu. Leave to depart, to all that will; an oath First given, no more to aid the war against us, An unmolested march. Each citizen

To take his goods, not more thrn a mule's burden; The chiefs six mules, and ten the governor; Besides some few slight arms for their defence Against the mountain robbers.

Cal. Now, by Mahomet, Thou hast equipp'd an army!

Abu. Canst thou doubt

The greatest part by far will choose to stay,
Receive our law, or pay th' accustom'd tribute?
What fear we then from a few wretched bands
Of scatter'd fugitives?Besides, thou know's
What towns of strength remain yet unsubdued.
Let us appear this once like generous victors,
So future conquests shall repay this bounty,
And willing provinces even court subjection.

Caled. Well-be it on thy head, if worse befall!