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Whate'er I've added to the public stock, Thou hast already taught my child her duty:
Eum. I cannot, if I would, withhold thy share. Was this the spring of thy romantic bravery,
I have serv'd the in serving her; thou know'st it. Less than a vision; a mere sound, an echo, Why wilt thou force me thus to be a braggart, That calls, with mimic voice, through woods And tell thee that which thou shouldst tell thyself? and labyrinths,
It grates my soul-I am not wont to talk thus. Her cheated lovers; lost and heard by fits, But I recall my words I have done nothing, But never fixd: a seeming nymph, yet nothing. And would disclaim all merit, but my love. Virtue indeed is a substantial good,
Eum. Oh, no-say on, that thou bast savid A real beauty; yet with weary steps,
Damascus; Through rugged ways, by long, laborious service, Is it not so ?--Look o'er her battlements, When we have trac'd, and woo'd, and won See if the flying foe have left their camp! the dame,
Why are our gates yet clos'd, if thou hast May we not then expect the dower she brings?
freed us? Éum. Well-ask that dowry; say, can Da- 'Tis true thou'st fought a skirmish - What of mascus pay it?
that? Her riches shall be tax'd; name but the sum, Had Eutyches been presentHer merchants with some costly gems shall Pho. Eutyches!
Why wilt thou urge my temper with that trifler? Nor can Heraclius fail to grant thee honours, Oh, let him come! that in yon spacious plain Proportion'd to thy birth and thy desert. We may together charge the thickest ranks, Pho. And can Eumenes think I would be Rush on to battle, wounds, and glorious death, brib'd
And prove who 'twas that best deserv'd Eudocia. By trash, by sordid gold, to venal virtue ? Eum. That will be seen ere long-But since What! serve my country for the same mean bire,
I find That can corrupt each villain to betray her? Thou arrogantly wouldst usurp dominion, Why is she sav'd from these Arabian spoilers, Believ'st thyself the guardian genius here, If to be stripp'd by her own sons?-Forgive me And that our fortunes hang upon thy sword; If the thought glows on my cheeks! I know Be that first try'd — for know, that from this Twas mention'd but to prove how much Iscornit.
moment, Yes, Eumenes,
Thou here hast no command. Farewell! So I have ambition-yet the vast reward
stay, That swells my hopes, and equals all my wishes, Or bence and join the foe; thou hast thy Is in thy gift alone ---It is Eudocia.
[Exit. Eum. Eudocia! Phocyas, I am yet thy friend, Pho. Spurn'd and degraded! - Proud, unAnd therefore will not hold thee long in doubt.
grateful man! Thou must not think of her.
Am I a bubble then, blown up by thee, Pho. Not think of her!
And toss'd into the air, to make thee sport? Impossible.-She's ever present to me! Hence to the foe! 'Tis well--Eudocia, My life, my soul! She animates my being, Oh, I will see thee, thou wrong'd excellence ! And kindles up my thoughts to worthy actions. But how to speak thy wrongs, or my disgraceAnd why, Eumenes, why not think of her? Impossible! Oh, rather let me walk, Is not my rank
Like a dumb ghost, and burst my heart in Eum. Forbear-What need a herald,
[Erit. To tell me who thou art?-Yet once again
SCENE II.-The Garden.
guilty lovers? choice?
But 'twill not long be so. What joy 'twill be Eum. Has she consented ?- What is her To own my hero in his ripen'd honours, consent ?
And hear applauding' crowds pronounce me Is she not mine?
bless'd! Pho. She is—and in that title,
Sure he'll be here. See the fair rising moon, E='n kings with envy may behold thy wealth, Ere day's remaining, twilight scarce is spent, And think their kingdoms poor !— And yet, Hangs up her ready lamp, and with mild lustre Eumenes,
Drives back the hóv'ring shade! Come, PhoShall she, by being thine, be barr'd a privilege
cyas, come; Which er'n the meanest of her sex may claim? This gentle season is a friend to love; Thou wilt not force her?
And now methinks I could with equal passion, Eum. Who has told thee so?
Meet thine, and tell thee all my secret soul. I'd force her to be happy. Pho. That thou canst not.
Enter PHOCYAS. What happiness subsists in loss of freedom? He hears me. Oh, my Phocyas!—Whiat, 110 Eum. Tis well, young man -Why then I'll
answer! learn from thee
Art thou not he? or art some shadow ?-Speake To be a very tame, obedient father.
Pho. I am indeed a shadow-I am nothing, iny brain,
Eud. What dost thou mean? For now 1 Now thou shalt see how I will bend my spirit, know thee, Phocyas.
With what soft patience I will bear my wrongs, Pho. And never can be thine!
Till I have weary'd out thy father's scorn: It will have vent-Oh, barb'rous, curs’d--but Yet I have worse to tell thee-Eutycheshold
Eud. Why wilt thou name him? I had forgot-It was Eudocia's father!
Pho. Now, ev'n now he's coming! Oh, could I too forget how he has us'd me! Just hov'ring o'er thee, like a bird of prey: Eud. I fear to ask thee.
Thy father vows—for I must tell thee allPho. Dost thou fear?--Alas,
'Twas this that wrung my heart, and rack'd Then thou wilt pity me. Oh, gen'rous maid! Thou hast charm'd down the rage that swelld Ev'n to distraction rows thee to his bed;
Nay, threaten'd force, if thou refuse obedience. And chok'd my voice; now I can speak to thee. Eud. Force! threaten'd force!-my fatherAnd yet'tis worse than death what I have sufferd;
where is nature? It is the death of honour !-Yet that's little; Is that too banish'd from his heart?- then 'Tis more, Eudocia, 'lis the loss of thee! I have no father-How have I deserv'd this? Eud. Hast thou not conquer'd? What are
[Weeps. all these sbouts,
No home, but am henceforth an outcast orphan; This voice of gen'ral joy, heard far around? For I will wander to earth's utmost bounds, What are these fires, that cast their glimm'ring Ere give my hand to that detested contract. light
O save me, Phocyas! thou hast sav'd my father. Against the sky? Are not all these thy triumphs? Must I yet call him so, this cruel father. Pho. O name not triumph! Talk no more How wilt thou now deliver Eudocia? of conquest !
Pho. See how we're join'd in exile! How It is indeed a night of gen'ral joy;
our fate But not to me! Eudocia, I am come Conspires to warn us both to leave this city! To take a last farewell of thee for ever. Thou know'st the emperor is now at Antioch; Eud. A last farewell!
I have an uncle there, who when the Persian, Pho. Yes.—How wilt thou hereafter As now the Saracen, had nigh o'errun Look on a wretch despis’d, revil'd, cashier'd, The ravag'd empire, did him signal service, Stripp'd of command, like a base, beaten coward? And nobly was rewarded. There, Eudocia, Thy cruel father, I have told too much; Thou might'st be safe, and I may meet with I should not but for this have felt the wounds
justice. I got in fight for him-now, now they bleed! Eud. There—any where, so we may fly But I have done-and now thou hast my story,
this place. Is there a creature so accurs'd as Phocyas? See, Phocyas, what thy wrongs and mine have Eud. And can it be? Is this then thy reward ?
wrought O Phocyas! never wouldst thou tell me yet In a weak woman's frame! for I have courage That thou hadst wounds; now I must' feel To share thy exile now through ev'ry danger. them too. Danger is only here, and dwells with guilt
, For is it not for me thou hast borne this? With base ingratitude, and hard oppression What else could be thy crime? Wert thou Pho. Then let us lose no time, but benci a traitor,
this night. Hadst thou betray'd us, sold us to the foe- The gates I can command, and will provide
Pho. Would I be yet a traitor, I have leave; The means of our escape. Some five hours bence Nay, I am dard to it, with mocking scorn. 'Twill then be turn'd of midnight, we may mee My crime indeed was asking thee; that only In the piazza of Honoria's convent. Has cancell'd all, if I bad any merit!
Eud. I know it well; the place is most secure The city now is safe, my service slighted, And near adjoining to this garden wall. And I discarded like a useless thing; There thou shalt find me.-Oh, protect us, heav's Nay, bid be gone-and if I like that better, Pho. Fear not; thy innocence will be ou Seek out new friends, and join yon barb'rous
Some pitying angel will attend thy steps, Eud. Hold- let me think awhile.
Guide thee unseen, and charm the sleeping foe
[Walks aside. Till thou art safe! Oh, I have suffer'd 'nothing Though my heart bleed,
Thus gaining thee, and this great gen'rous proo I would not have him see these dropping tears. How bless'd' I am in my Eudocia's love! And wilt thou go then, Phocyas?
My only joy, farewell! Pho. To my grave,
Eud. Farewell, my Phocyas! Where can I bury else this foul disgrace ? I bave no friend but thee-yet thee I'll call Eud. Art thou sure
Friend, father, lover, guardian!—Thou art al Thou hast been usid thus ? art thou quite undone?
[E.reun Pho. Yes, very sure. What dost thou mean?
ACT III. Eud. That then it is a time for me heav'n! that I
Scene I.-CALED's Tent. Alone am grateful to this wondrous man!
Enter Caled and Attendants. Sergits he To own thee, Phocyas, thus-[Gives her Hand]
by Two Guards, bound with Gords. nay, glory in thee,
Ser. Oh, mercy, mercy! And show, without a blush, how much I love. Caled. Mercy! what's that? – Look yond We must not part!
on the field P Then I am rich again! [Embraces her. Of our late fight! Go, talk of mercy there. O do, we will not parı! Confirm it, heav'n! Will the dead hear thy voice ?
Ser. Oh, spare me yet.
Till Mahomet himself there stopp'd their enCaled. Thou wretch!-Spare thee? to what?
trance, To live in torture ?
A jav'lin in his hand, and turn'd them back Are not thy limbs all bruis'd, thy bones disjointed, Upon the foe; they fought again and conquer'd. To force thee to confess? And wouldst thou drag, Behold how we may best appease his wrath! Like a crush'd serpent, a vile, mangled being ? His own example points us out the way: My eyes abhor a coward— Hence, and die! Abu. Well-be it then resolvid. Th’indulSer. Oh! I have told thee all — When first pursu'd,
Of better fortune is, I bope, at hand. I fix'd my letters on an arrow's point, And yet, since Phocyas has appear'dits champion And shot them o'er the walls.
How has this city rais'd its drooping head! Caled. Hast thou told all ?
As if some charm prevail'd where'er he fought; Well, then thou shalt have mercy to requite thee: Our strength seems wither'd, and our feeble Behold I'll send thee forward on thy errand.
weapons Strike off his head; then cast it o'er the gates! Forget their wonted triumph-were he absent, There let thy tongue tell o'er its tale again! Caled. I would have sought him out in the Ser. Oh, bloody Saracens!
last action, [E.rit Sergius, dragged away by To single fight, and put that charm to proof, the Guards,
Had not a foul and sudden mist arose
Ere I arriv’d, to have restor'd the combat. Enter ABUDAH.
But let it be-'tis past. We yet may meet, Caled. Abudah, welcome!
And 'twill be known whose arm is ihen the Abu. Oh, Caled, what an evening was the last!
stronger. Caled. Name it no more; remembrance sickens with it,
Enter DARAN. And therefore sleep is banish'd from this night; Daran. Health to the race of Ismael! and days Nor shall to-morrow's sun open his eye More prosp'rous than the last Christian (pon our shame, ere doubly we've redeem'd it.
captive Have all the captains notice?
Is fallin within my watch, and waits his doom. Abu. I have walk'd
Caled. Bring forth the slave.-0 thou keen The rounds to-night, ere the last hour of pray's,
vulture, death: From tent to tent, and warn’d them to be ready. Do'we then feed thee only thus by morsels! What must be done?
Whole armies never can suffice thy anger. Caled. Tbou know'st th' important news
[Exit Daran. Which we have intercepted by this slave, Of a new army's march. The time now calls, Re-enter DARAN, with PhocyAS. Wbile these soft Syrians are dissolv'd in riot, Whence, and what art thou ?–Of Damascus? Foold with success, and not suspecting danger,
-Daran, To form a new attack ere break of day; Where didst thou find this dumb and sullen So, like the wounded leopard, shall we rush
thing, From out our covers on these drowsy hunters, That seems to lower defiance on our anger ? And seize them, unprepar'd to 'scape our Daran. Marching in circuit, with the horse vengeance.
thou gav'st me, Abu. Great captain of the armies of the T'observe the city gates, I saw from far faithful!
Two persons issue forth; the one advancd, I know thy mighty and unconquer'd spirit; Andere he could retreat, my horsemen seiz'd him; Yet hear me, Caled, hear and weigh my doubts, The other was a woman, and had fled, Our angry prophet frowns upon our vices, Upon a signal giv’n at our approach, And visits us in blood. \Vhy else did terror, And got within the gates. Wouldst thou know l'nknown before, seize all our stoutest bands?
more, The angel of destruction was abroad; Himself
, if he will speak, can hest inform thee. The archers of the tribe of Thoal fled,
Caled. llare I not seen thy face? So loog renownd, or spent their shafts in vain; Abu. He hears thee not; The feather’d flighis err'd through the boundless His eyes are fix'd on earth; some deep distress air,
Is at bis heart. This is no common captive. Or the death turn'd on him that drew the bow!
[Apart to Caled. What can this bode?-Let me speak plainer yet ; Caled. A lion in the toils? We soon shall Is it to propagate th' unspolted law
tame him. We fight? 'Tis well; it is a noble cause. Still art thou dumb? — Nay, 'tis in vain to cast But much I fear infection is among us; Thy gloomy looks so oft around this place, A boundless lust of rapinc guides our troops. Or frown upon thy bonds-thou canst not 'scape. We learn the Christian vices we chastise, Pho. Then be it so—the worst is past already, And, tempted with the pleasures of the soil, And life is now not worth a moment's pause. More than with distant hopes of paradise, Do you not know me yet? Think of the man I fear may soon--but oh, avert it, heav'n! You have most cause to curse,
and I am he. Fall erin a prey to our own spoils and conquests. Caled. Ha! Phocyas? Caled. Notbou mistak'st; thy pious zeal Abu Phocyas!-Mahomet, we thank thee! deceives thee.
Now dost thou smile again. Our prophet only chides our sluggard valour. Caled. This is indeed a prize! Aside.
Thou saw'st bow in the vale of Ilonan once Is it because thou know'st what slaughter'd T be troops, as now defeated, fled confus'd
beaps Ei'n to the gates of Mecca's holy city? There yet unbury'd lie without the camp,
Whose ghosts have all this night, passing the Nor shall my peaceful sword henceforth be drawn Zorat,
In fight, nor break its truce with you for ever, Call’d from the bridge of death to thee to follow, Caled. No-lhere's one way, a belter, and That now thou'rt here to answer to their cry?
but one, Howe'er it be, thou know'st thy welcome. To save thyself, and make some reparation Pho. Yes,
For all the numbers thy bold hand has slain. Thou proud, blood-thirsty Arab!-Well I know Pho. O, name it quickly, and my soul will What to expect from thee: I know ye all.
bless thee! Ilow should the author of distress and ruin Caled. Embrace our faith, and share with Be mov'd to pity? That's a human passion.
us our fortunes. No-in your hungry eyes, that look revenge, Pho. Then I am lost again! I read my doom. Vhere are your racks, Caled. What! when we offer, your tortures ?
Not freedom only, but to raise thee high, I'm ready- lead me to them; I can bear To greatness, conquest, glory, beav'nly bliss? The worst ofills from you. You're not my friends, Pho. To sink me down to insamy, perdition, My countrymen.— Yet were you men, I could Here and bereaster! Make my name a curse Unfold a story-But no more— Eumenes, To present times, to ev'ry future age Thou hast thy wish, and I am now-a worm! A proverb and a scorn!-take back thy mercy,
Abu. Leader of armies, hear him! for my mind And know I now disdain it. Presages good accruing to our cause
Caled. As thou wilt. By this event.
[ Apart to Caled. The time's too precious to be wasted longer Caled. I tell thce then thou wrong'st us, In words with thee. Thou know’st thy doom To think our hearts thus steel'd, or our ears dear
- farewell. To all that thou may'st utter. Speak, disclose Abu. Hear me, Caled: grant him some sbort The secret woes that throb within thy breast.
space; Now, by the silent hours of night, we'll hear thee, Perhaps be will at length accept thy bounty, And mute attention shall await thy words. Try him, at least.
[Apari to Caled. Pho. This is not then the palace in Damascus! Caled. Well-be it so then. Daran, If you will bear, then lindeed have wrong’d you. Guard well thy charge—Thou hast an hour How can this be?-When he, for whom I've
to live : fought,
If thou art wise, thou may'st prolong that term; Fought against you, has yet refus'd to bear me! If not-why-Fare thee well, and think of death. You seem surpris’d. It was ingratitude
[Exeunt Caled and Abudah. Daran That drovė me out, an exile, nol a foc.
wails at a distance. Abu. Is it possible?
Pho. “Farewell, and think of death!" Was Are these thy Christian friends ?
it not so? Caled. 'Tis well-we thank them :
Do murderers then preach morality ?They help us to subdue themselves—But who But how to think of what the living know not, Was the companion of thy flight?-A woman, And the dead cannoi, or else may not tell!So Daran said
What art thou, oh, thou great mysterious terror! Pho. "Tis there I am most wretched- The way to thee we know! disease, famine, Oh, I am torn from all my soul held dear, Sword, fire, and all thy ever open gates, And
my life's blood flows out upon the wound! That day and night stand ready to receive us. That woman— 'twas for her — How shall But what's beyond them ? - Who will draw speak it?
that veil ? Eudocia, oh, farewell !—I'll tell you then, Yet death's not there — No, 'tis a point of time, As fast as these heart-rending sighs will let me : The verge 'twixt mortal and immortal beings. I lov'd the daughter of the proud Eumenes, It mocks our thoughts! On this side all is life; And long in secret woo'd her; not unwelcome And when we have reach'd it, in that very To her my visits; but I fear'd her father;
instant, Who oft had press'd ber to detested nuptials
, 'Tis past the thinking of! Oh! if it be And therefore 'durst not, till this night of joy, The pangs, the throes, the agonizing struggles Avow to him my courtship. Now I thought her When soul and body part, 'sure I have felt it, Mine, by a double claim, of mutual vows, And there's no more to fear, And service yielded at bis greatest need: Daran. Suppose I now When, as I mov'd my suit, with sour disdain, Dispatch him? - Right - What need to stay He mock'd my service and forbade my love,
for orders ? Degraded me from the command I bore, I wish I durst!- Yet what I dare, lll do. And with defiance bade me seek the foe.
Aside How has his curse prevail'd!—The gen'rous maid Your jewels, Christian-You'll not need these Was won by my distress to leave the city;
Searches him. And cruel fortune made me thus your prey. Pho. I pray thee, slave, stand off-My soul's Abu. My soul is mov'd-Thou wert a man,
To lose a thought on thee.
Re-enter ABUDAH, Phó. Now-since you've heard my story, Abu. What's this ?-Forbear! set me free,
Who gave thee leave to use this violence? That I may save her yet, dearer than life,
[Takes the Jewels from Daran, and From a tyrannic father's threaten'd force;
lays them on a Table. Gold, gems, and purple vests, shall pay my Daran. Deny'd my booty ! curses on his head' ransom;
Was not the founder of our law a robber?
Why, 'twas for that I left my country's gods, Where is the man can read heav'n's secret Menaph and Uzza. Better still be Pagan,
Yet now am here?
[Exit Daran. Has seiz'd thy hand unseen, ard snatch'd thee out Phocyas, perhaps thou know'st me not? From swift destruction: know, ere day shall Pho. I know
dawn, Thy name, Abudah, and thy office here, Damascus will in blood lament its fall! The second in command. What more thou art, We've heard what army is design'd to march Indeed I cannot tell,
Too late to save her. Now, e'en now, our force Abu. True; for thou yet
Is just preparing for a fresh assault. Know'st not I am thy friend.
Now too thou might'st revenge thy wrongsPho. Is't possible?
so Caled Thou speak'st me fair.
Charg'd me to say, and more—that he invites Abu. What dost thou think of life?
thee; Pho. I think not ofit; death was in my thoughts. Thou know'st the terms - to share with him On hard condition, life were but a load,
the conquest. And I will lay it down.
Pho. Conquest! Revenge! – Hold, let me Abu. Art thou resolv'd ?
think-Oh, horror! Pho.I am, unless thou bring'st me better terms Revenge! Oh, what revenge? Bleed on, my Than those I have rejected,
wounds, Abu. Think again.
For thus to be reveng’d, were it not worse Caled by me once more renews that offer. Than all that I can suffer ?-But, EudociaPho. Thou say'st thou art my friend: why Where will she then?-Shield her, ye pitydost thou try
ing pow'rs, To shake the settled temper of my breast ? And let me die in peace! My soul bas just discharg'd her cumb'rous train Abu. Hear me once more, of hopes and fears, prepard to take her voyage 'Tis all I have to offer; mark me now! To other seats, where she may rest in peace; Caled has sworn Eudocia shall be safe. And now thou call'st me back, to beat again Pho. Ka! safe-but how? A wretched capThe painful road of life—Tempt me no more
tive too? To be a wretch, for I despise the offer. Abu. He swears she shall be free, she shall Abu. The gen'ral knows thee brave, and 'tis
be thine. for that
Pho. Then I am lost indeed. He seeks alliance with thy noble virtues. Abų. The time draws near, and I must Pho. He knows me brave!-Why does he
quickly leave thee; then thus treat me? But first reflect, that in this fatal night No, he believes I am so poor of soul, Slaughter and rapine may be loos’d abroad; That, barely for the privilege to live, And while they roam with unextinguish'd rage, I would be bought his slave. But go, tell him Should she thou lov'st—(well may'st thou start) The little space of life, his scorn bequeath'd me,
-be made, Was lent in vain, and he may take the forfeit. Perhaps unknown, some barb'rous soldier's prey;
Abu. Why wilt thou wed thyself to misery, Should she then fall a sacrifice to lust,
Abu. Nay, do not plunge thyself in black Pierc'd through the gloom of Hera's sacred cave,
despair; And there illumin'd the great Mahomet, Look up, poor wretch, thou art not shipwreck'd Arabia's morning star, now shines on thee.
yet; Arise, salute with joy the guest from heav'n, Behold an anchor; am not I thy friend? Follow her steps, and be no more a captive. Pho. [Rises] Ha! Who, what art thou ? Pho.But whither must follow?-Answer that.
[Raves. Is she a guest from beav'n? What marks divinc, My friend ? that's well; but hold—are all friends Wbat signs, what wonders, vouch her boast
honest ? ed mission?
What's to be done ?-Hush, hark! what voice Abu. What wonders ? — Turn thy eye to
is that? Mecca! mark
Abu. There is no voice; 'tis yet the dead How far from Caaba first, that hallow'd temple,
of night; Her glory dawn'd! - then look how swift its The guards without keep silent watch around us. course,
Pho. Again it calls-'tisshe-O,lead me to her! As when the sun-beams, shooling through a Abu. Thy passion mocks thee with imagiu'd cloud,
sounds. Drive o'er the meadow's face the flying shades! Pho. Sure 'twas Eudocia's voice cry'd out, Hare not the nations bent before our swords,
Forbear! Like ripen'd corn before the reaper's steel? What shall I do ?-Oh, heav'n! Why is all this? Why does success still wait Abu. Heav'n shows thee what. Upon our laws, if not to show that heav'n Nay, now it is too late; see Caled comes, First sent it forth, and owns it still by conquest? With anger on his brow. Quickly withdraw Pho.. Dost thou ask why is this?-Oh, why To the next tent, and there indeed ?
Pho. [Rises] What do I see?