1 This wreath of early glories!-Oh, my friend! I talk not of a sceptre, which he gives me : No--to be charm'd with that were thanks too humble! Offensive tribute, and too poor for love! 'Twas Osman won my heart, not Osman's crown: I love not in him aught besides himself. Thou think'st perhaps, that these are starts of passion ; [him, But had the will of Heaven less bent to bless Doom'd Osman to my chains, and me to fill The throne that Osman sits on-ruin and wretchedness Catch and consume my wishes, but I would-To raise me to myself, descend to him. Sel. Hark! the wish'd music sounds-'Tis he-he comes[Exit SELIMA. Zar. My heart prevented him, and found him near: [hour Absent two whole long days, the slow-pac'd At last is come, and gives him to my wishes. [A grund march. Enter OSMAN, reading a paper, which he redelivers to ÓRASMIN; with Attendants. Osm. Wait my return-or, should there be a cause That may require my presence, do not fear Zar. 'Twas not in cruel absence, to deprive Of your imperial image-every where [me You reign triumphant: memory supplies Reflection with your power; and you, like Heaven, Are always present-and are always gracious. Osm. The sultans, my great ancestors, bequeath'd [not; Their empire to me, but their taste they gave Their laws, their lives, their loves, delight not me: I know, our prophet smiles on am'rous wishes, Hence was Jerusalem to Christians lost; For thou disdain'st, like me, a languid love; This passion, so unlike your country's customs. Osm. Passion, like mine, disdains my country's customs; The jealousy, the faintness, the distrust, And dare inform you, that 'tis all your own: My joys must all be yours; only my cares Shall lie conceal'd within, and reach not Zara. Zar. Oblig'd by this excess of tenderness, How low, how wretched was the lot of Zara! Too poor with aught, but thanks, to pay such blessings! Osm. Not so I love-and would be lov'd Me wretched, if it makes not Zara happy. Can, from my will, submit to take its bliss, Enter ORASMIN. Osm. Already interrupted! What? Who?-Whence? Oras. This moment, Sir, there is arriv'd That Christian slave, who, licens'd on his faith, Went hence to France-and, now return'd, prays audience. Zar. [Aside.] Oh, Heaven! Osm. Admit him-What?-Why comes he not ? Oras. He waits without. No Christian dares approach [racies. This place, long sacred to the Sultan's priOsm. Go-bring him with thee-monarchs, like the sun, Shine but in vain, unwarming, if unseen ; With forms and rev'rence, let the great apNot the unhappy ; every place alike, proach us; Gives the distress'd a privilege to enter.[Exit ORAS. I think with horror on these dreadful maxims, Which harden kings insensibly to tyrants. Re-enter ORASMIN with NERESTAN. But, for myself, I come again your slave, Osm. Christian! I must confess thy courage charms me: But let thy pride be taught, it treads too high, They left some virtue among Saracens. To my Jerusalem-that claim his guilt! Thes had he said of me. I mourn his lot, I had your royal word. For Lusignan- Osm. Was I not heard? Have I not told thee, Christian, all my will? What if I prais'd thee!-This presumptuous virtue, Compelling my esteem, provokes my pride; While I give orders to prepare the pomp went, Turn'd and look'd back at Zara!--didst thou mark it? Oras. Alas! my sovereign master! let not jealousy Strike high enough to reach your noble heart. Distrust is poor; and a misplac'd suspicion Go, and prepare for the approaching nuptials. And, among crowded millions, live alone. ACT II. SCENE I. NERESTAN and CHATILLON. Chat. Matchless Nerestan! generous and great! [slaves! You, who ha ve broke the chains of hopeless You Christian saviour! by a Saviour sent! Appear, be known, enjoy your due delight; The grateful weepers wait to clasp your knees, soften'd Osman, Inspir'd me for your sakes:-But, with our joy, Cæsarea's walls saw Lusignan surpris'd, Then, sent to Paris on my plighted faith, Chat. Dispose me at your will-I am your in vain; Perish that soldier who would quit his chains, Dreadful-and, waving in his hand a sword, Chat. 'Twas Heaven, no doubt, that sav'd and led him on ; [guide: Pointed his path, and march'd our guardian We reach'd Caesarea-there the general voice Chose Lusignan, thenceforth to give us laws; Alas! 'twas vain-Cæsarea could not stand When Sion's self was fallen! we were betray'd; And Lusignan condemn'd, to length of life, In chains, in damps, and darkness, and despair: Yet great, amidst his miseries, he look'd, we, For whom our generous leader suffer'd this, Be vilely safe, and dare be bless'd without him? Ner. Oh! I should hate the liberty he shar'd not. I knew too well the miseries you describe, For I was born amidst them. Chains and death, Cæsarea lost, and Saracens triumphant, [on. A temple sav'd us, till the slaughter ceas'd; Chat. Such is the Saracens too fatal policy! Watchful seducers, still, of infant weakness: Happy that you so young escap'd their hands. [terest, But let us think- -May not this Zara's inLoving the Sultan, and by him belov'd, For Lusignan procure some softer sentence? The wise and just, with innocence may draw Their own advantage from the guilt of others. Ner. How shall I gain admission to her presence? Osman has banish'd me-but that's a trifle; The hardest trial of a generous mind Chut. Think it is Lusignan we seek to serve. Ner. Well-it shall be attempted-Hark! who's this? Are my eyes false; or, is it really she? Associates from our birth, one prison held us Here, in Jerusalem, I fix for ever; [tune, Abjure their saving truth, and coldly see here; You will this moment meet his eyes in joy. Chat. Shall I then live to bless that happy hour? Chatillon, is it you? my fellow martyr! "Tis now the son of Noradin's seraglio. Zar. The master of this place, the mighty Osman, Distinguishes, and loves to cherish virtue. you, rest, [slaves, Brought the vow'd ransoms of ten Christian Himself contented to remain a captive: [own, But Osman, charm'd by greatness like his To equal what he lov'd, has given him you. Lus. So generous France inspires her social sons! Drawn from his native soil, from peace and | In nameless remnants o'er the east, and spread Our Christian miseries round a faithless world. Chat. 'Twas true-For in the horrors of that day, [cradle; I snatch'd your infant daughter from her But finding every hope of flight was vain, Scarce had I sprinkled, from a public fountain, Those sacred drops which wash the soul from sin, They have been ever dear and useful to meWould I were nearer to him-Noble Sir, [NERESTAN approaches. How have I merited, that you for me Should pass such distant seas to bring me blessings, And hazard your own safety for my sake? Ner. My name, Sir, is Nerestan; born in Syria, I wore the chains of slavery from my birth; Till quitting the proud crescent for the court Where warlike Lewis reigns, beneath his eye I learn'd the trade of arms:-the rank I held Was but the kind distinction which he gave To tempt my courage to deserve regard. [me, Your sight, unhappy prince, would charm his eye; That best and greatest monarch will behold With grief and joy those venerable wounds, And print embraces where your fetters bound All Paris will revere the cross's martyr; [you. Paris, the refuge still of ruin'd kings! Lus. Alas! in times long past, I've seen its glory: When Philip the victorious liv'd, I fought rea, And there beheld'st my wife and two dear sons Perish in flames. Chat. A captive and in fetters, I could not help 'em. Lus. I know thou could'st not Ob, 'twas a dreadful scene! these eyes beheld it Husband and father, helpless I beheld it- When from my bleeding arms, fierce Saracens Forc'd the lost innocent, who smiling lay, And pointed, playful, at the swarthy spoilers! With her, your youngest, then your only son, Whose little life had reach'd the fourth sad year, [tunes, And just given sense to feel his own misforWas order'd to this city. Ner. I, too, hither, Just at that fatal age, from lost Cæsarea, Came in that crowd of undistinguish'd Chris tians. Lus. You!-came you thence ?-Alas! who knows but you dren. Might heretofore have seen my two poor chil[Looking up. Hah, Madam! that small ornament you wear, Its form a stranger to this country's fashion, How long has it been yours? Zar. From my first birth, Sir Ah, what! you seem surpris'd !-why should this move you? Lus. Would you confide it to my trembling hands? Zar. To what new wonders am I now reOh, Sir, what mean you? [serv'd? Lus. Providence and Heaven! Oh, failing eyes, deceive ye not my hope? Can this be possible?-Yes, yes-'tis she This little cross-I know it, by sure marks! Oh! take me, Heaven! while I can die with joy Zur. Oh, do not, Sir, distract me!-rising thoughts, And hopes, and fears, o'erwhelm me! Has it remain'd for ever in your hands? hither? Zar. Both, both Oh, Heaven! have I then found a father? Do not forsake me at this dawn of hope- Nerestan, hast thou on thy breast a scar, Which, ere Cæsarea fell, from a fierce hand, Surprising us by night, my child receiv'd? Ner. Bless'd hand-1 bear it.-Sir, the mark is there! Lus. Merciful Heaven! Ner. [Kneeling.] Oh, Sir!-Oh, Zara, kneel. Zar. [Kneeling.] My father!-Oh !- Both. Oh! Lus. My son! my daughter! lost in em bracing you, [dream. I would now die, lest this should prove a Chat. How touch'd is my glad heart to see their joy! Lus. They shall not tear you from my arms -my children! Again, 1 find you-dear in wretchedness: Oh, my brave son-and thou, my nameless daughter! Now dissipate all doubt, remove all dread; Has Heaven, that gives me back my children -given em, [me? Such as I lost 'em?-Come they Christians to One weeps, and one declines a conscious eye! Your silence speaks-too well I understand it. Zar. I cannot, Sir, deceive you-Osman's laws Were mine-and Osman is not Christian. Lus. Her words are thunder bursting on my head; Were't not for thee, my son, I now should die. Full sixty years I fought the Christians' cause, Saw their doom'd temple fall, their power destroy'd : Twenty, a captive in a dungeon's depth, Yet never for myself my tears sought Heaven; All for my children rose my fruitless prayers: Yet, what avails a father's wretched joy? I have a daughter gain'd, and Heaven an ene[faith, Oh, my misguided daughter-lose not thy Reclaim thy birth-right-think upon the blood Of twenty Christian kings, that fills thy veins; "Tis heroes' blood-the blood of saints and martyrs ! my. What would thy mother feel, to see thee thus ! She, and thy murder'd brothers !-think, they call thee: Tarms, Think that thou seest 'em stretch their bloody And weep to win thee from their murderer's bosom. Even in the place where thou betray'st thy God, He died, my child to save thee.-Turn thy eyes, And see; for thou art near his sacred sepulchre; [trod! Thou canst not move a step, but where he Thou tremblest-Oh! admit me to thy soul; Kill not thy aged, thy afflicted father; Take not thus soon again the life thou gav'st him: [GodShame not thy mother-nor renounce thy "Tis past-Repentance dawns in thy sweet eyes; I see bright truth descending to thy heart, And now, my long-lost child is found for ever. Ner. Oh, doubly bless'd! a sister, and a soul, To be redeem'd together! Zar. Oh, my father! Dear author of my life! inform me, teach me, What should my duty do? Lus. By one short word, Osm. Orasmin, this alarm was false and groundless; woes, seas: Lewis no longer turns his arms on me ; The French, grown weary by a length of Wish not at once to quit their fruitful plains, And famish on Arabia's desert sands. Their ships, 'tis true, have spread the Syrian And Lewis, hovering o'er the coast of Cyprus, Alarms the fears of Asia-But I've learn'd, That steering wide from our unmenac'd ports, He points his thunder at the Egyptian shore. There let him war and waste my enemies; Their mutual conflicts will but fix my throne.Release those Christians-I restore their freedom; Twill please their master, nor can weaken [me: Transport 'em at my cost, to find their king; I wish to have him know me: carry thither This Lusignan, whom, tell him, I restore, Because I cannot fear his fame in arms; But love him for his virtue and his blood. Tell him, my father, having conquer'd twice, Condemn'd him to perpetual chains; but I Have set him free that I might triumph more. Oras. The Christians gain an army in his name. Osm. I cannot fear a sound.- Osm. Tell Lewis and the world-it shall be So: Zara propos'd it, and my heart approves : To dry up all my tears, and make life welcome, But, 'tis not lost that hour! 'twill be all hers! Say thou art a Christian Zar. Sir-I am a Christian Lus. Receive her, gracious Heaven! and bless her for it. Enter ORASMIN. Oras. Madam, the Sultan order'd me to tell you, That he expects you instant quit this place, And bid your last farewell to these vile Christians. You captive Frenchmen, follow me; for you, It is my task to answer. Chat. Still new 'miseries! [happy! How cautious man should be, to say, I'm Lus. These are the times, my friends, to try our firmness, Our Christian firmnessZar. Alas, Sir! Oh! She would employ it in a conference that Christian! Oras. And have you, Sir, indulged that strange desire? Osm. What mean'st thou ? They were infant slaves together; Friends should part kind, who are to meet no more. When Zara asks, I will refuse her nothing: cestors, Their open confidence, their honest hate, |