Due to the God you purpose to forsake.
Zar. Can my fond heart, on such a feeble
proof,

Embrace a faith, abhorred by him I love?
I see too plainly custom forms us all;
Our thoughts, our morals, our most fixed belief,
Are consequences of our place of birth:
Born beyond Ganges, I had been a Pagan;
In France, a Christian; I am here a Saracen :
'Tis but instruction, all! Our parents' hand
Writes on our heart the first faint characters,
Which time, re-tracing, deepens into strength,
That nothing can efface, but death or Heaven.
Thou wert not made a prisoner in this place,
Till after reason, borrowing force from years,
Had lent its lustre to enlighten faith :-
For me, who, in my cradle, was their slave,
Thy Christian doctrines were too lately taught

me;

Yet, far from having lost the reverence due,
This cross, as often as it meets my eye,
Strikes through my heart a kind of awful fear!
I honour, from my soul, the Christian law;
Those laws, which, softening nature by humanity,
Melt nations into brotherhood;—no doubt
Christians are happy; and 'tis just to love them.
Sel. Why have you, then, declared yourself
their foe?

Why will you join your hand with this proud Os. man's,

Who owes his triumph to the Christian ruin? Zar. Ah-who could slight the offer of his heart?

:

Nay-for I mean to tell thee all my weakness-
Perhaps I had, ere now, profest thy faith,
But Osman loved me-and I've lost it all:-
I think on none but Osman-my pleased heart,
Filled with the blessing, to be loved by him,
Wants room for other happiness. Place thou
Before thy eyes, his merit and his fame,
His youth, yet blooming but in manhood's dawn,
How many conquered kings have swelled his
power!

Think, too, how lovely! how his brow becomes
This wreath of early glories!-Oh, my friend!
I talk not of a sceptre which he gives me:
No-to be charmed 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:

But, had the will of Heaven, less bent to bless him,

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 him to myself, descend to him.

Sel. Hark! the wish'd music sounds-'Tis he-
he comes-
[Exit SEL.

Zur. My heart prevented him, and found him

near:

Absent two long whole days, the slow-paced hour

7

At last is come, and gives him to my wishes! [4 grand march.

Enter OSMAN reading a Paper, which he re-delivers to ORASMIN; with Attendants.

Osm. Wait my return-or, should there be a

cause

That may require my presence, do not fear
To enter; ever mindful, that my own

[Exit ORAS. &c.
Follows my people's happiness.-At length,
Cares have released my heart-to love and Zara.
Zar. 'Twas not in cruel absence, to deprive me
Of your imperial image-every where
You reign triumphant: memory supplies
Reflection with your power; and you, like Hea-

ven,

Are always present-and are always gracious. Osm. The sultans, my great ancestors, bequeathed

Their empire to me, but their taste they gave

not;

Their laws, their lives, their loves, delight not me.
I know our prophet smiles on am'rous wishes,
And opens a wide field to vast desire;
I know, that at my will I might possess;
That, wasting tenderness in wild profusion,
I might look down to my surrounded feet,
And bless contending beauties. I might speak,
Serenely slothful, from within my palace,
And bid my pleasure be my people's law.
But, sweet as softness is, its end is cruel.
I can look round, and count a hundred kings,
Unconquered by themselves, and slaves to others;
Hence was Jerusalem to Christians lost ;
But Heaven, to blast that unbelieving race,
Taught me to be a king, by thinking like one.
Hence, from the distant Euxine to the Nile,
The trumpet's voice has wak'd the world to war,
Yet, amidst arms and death, thy power has
reach'd me;

For thou disdain'st, like me, a languid love;
Glory and Zara join-and charm together.

Zur. I hear at once, with blushes and with joy, This passion, so unlike your country's customs. Osm. Passion, like mine, disdains my country's

customs;

The jealousy, the faintness, the distrust,
The proud, superior coldness of the East.
I know to love you, Zara, with esteem;
To trust your virtue, and to court your soul.
Nobly confiding, I unveil my heart,
And dare inform you, that 'tis all your own:
My joys must all be yours: only my cares
Shall lie concealed within-and reach not Zara.

Zar. Obliged 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 loved again;

Let me confess it, I possess a soul,
That what it wishes, wishes ardently.

I should believe you hated, had you power
To love with moderation: 'tis my aim,

In every thing, to reach supreme perfection.
If with an equal flame I touch your heart,
Marriage attends your smile-But know, 'twill
make

Me wretched, if it makes not Zara happy.
Zar. Ab, sir! if such a heart as generous Os-
man's

Can, from my will, submit to take its bliss,
What mortal ever was decreed so happy!
Pardon the pride with which I own my joy,
Thus wholly to possess the man I love!
To know and to confess his will my fate!
To be the happy work of his dear hands!
To be-

Enter ORASMIN.

Osm. Already interrupted! What? Who?-Whence?

Oras. This moment, sir, there is arrived That Christian slave, who, licensed on his faith, Went hence to France-and, now returned, prays audience.

Zar. [Aside.] Oh, Heaven!

Osm. Admit him-What?-Why comes he not?

Oras. He waits without. No Christian dares approach

This place, long sacred to the sultan's privacies. Osm. Go-bring him with thee-monarchs, like the sun,

Shine but in vain, unwarming, if unseen;
With forms and reverence, let the great ap-

proach us;

Not the unhappy;-every place alike,
Gives the distressed 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.
Ner. Imperial sultan! honoured, even by foes!
See me returned, regardful of my vow,
And punctual to discharge a Christian's duty.
I bring the ransom of the captive Zara,
Fair Selima, the partner of her fortune,
And of ten Christian captives, prisoners here.
You promised, sultan, if I should return,
To grant their rated liberty:-Behold,

I am returned, and they are yours no more.
I would have stretched my purpose to myself,
But fortune has denied it ;-my poor
all
Sufficed no further, and a noble poverty
Is now my whole possession.—I redeem
The promised Christians; for I taught them
hope:

But, for myself, I come again your slave,
To wait the fuller hand of future charity.
Osm. Christian! I must confess thy courage
charms me.

But let thy pride be taught, it treads too high,
When it presumes to climb above my mercy.
Go ransoinless thyself, and carry back
Their unaccepted ransoms, joined with gifts,
Fit to reward thy purpose; instead of ten,

Demand a hundred Christians; they are thine: Take them, and bid them teach their haughty country,

They left some virtue among Saracens.-
Be Lusignan alone excepted-He,

Who boasts the blood of kings, and dares lay claim

To my Jerusalem-that claim, his guilt.
Such is the law of states; had I been vanquished,
Thus had he said of me. I mourn his lot,
Who must in fetters, lost to day-light, pine,
And sigh away old age in grief and pain.
For Zara-but to name her as a captive,
Were to dishonour language;-she's a prize
Above thy purchase:-all the Christian realms,
With all their kings to guide them, would unite
In vain, to force her from me.-Go, retire.-

Ner. For Zara's ransom, with her own consent,

I had your royal word. For Lusignan-
Unhappy, poor old man-

Osm. Was I not heard?

Have I not told thee, Christian, all my will? What if I praised thee !-This presumptuous virtue,

Compelling my esteem, provokes my pride;
Be gone-and when to-morrow's sun shall rise
On my dominions, be not found-too near me.
[Exit NEREStan.
Zar. [Aside.] Assist him, Heaven!
Osm. Zara, retire a moment-
Assume, throughout my palace, sovereign empire,
While I give orders to prepare the pomp
That waits to crown thee mistress of my throne.
[Leads her out and returns.
Orasmin! didst thou mark the imperious slave!
What could he mean?-he sighed—and, as he
went,

Turned and looked back at Zara-didst thou mark it?

Oras. Alas! my sovereign master! let not jealousy

Strike high enough to reach your noble heart. Osm. Jealousy, saidst thou? I disdain it :

No!

Distrust is poor; and a misplaced suspicion
Invites and justifies the falsehood feared.—
Yet, as I love with warmth—so, I could hate!
But Zara is above disguise and art:
My love is stronger, nobler, than my power.
Jealous!-I was not jealous! If I was,

I am not-no-my heart-but, let us drown
Remembrance of the word, and of the image:
My heart is filled with a diviner flame.—
Go, and prepare for the approaching nuptials.
Zara to careful empire joins delight.

I must allot one hour to thoughts of state,
Then, all the smiling day is love and Zara's.
[Exit ORASMIN
Monarchs, by forms of pompous misery pressed,
In proud, unsocial misery, unblessed,
Would, but for love's soft influence, curse their

Shared this captivity; we both grew up
So near each other, that a tender friendship
Endeared her to my wishes: My fond heart-
Pardon its weakness, bleeds to see her lost,
And, for a barbarous tyrant, quit her God!
Chat. Such is the Saracens too fatal policy!
Watchful seducers, still, of infant weakness:
Happy that you, so young, escap'd their hands!
But let us think-May not this Zara's interest,
Loving the sultan, and by him beloved,
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 pre-
sence?

Osman has banished me-but that's a trifle;
Will the seraglio's portals open to me?
Or, could I find that easy to my hopes,
What prospect of success from an apostate,
On whom I cannot look without disdain,
And who will read her shame upon my brow?
The hardest trial of a generous mind,
Is, to court favours from a hand it scorns.

Chat. Think it is Lusignan we seek to serve. Ner. Well-it shall be attempted-Hark! | who is this?

Are my eyes false; or, is it really she?

Enter ZARA.

. Zar. Start not, my worthy friend! I come to seek you;

The sultan has permitted it; fear nothing:-
But to confirm my heart, which trembles near you,
Soften that angry air, nor look reproach;
Why should we fear each other, both mistaking?
Associates from our birth, one prison held us,
One friendship taught affliction to be calm,
'Till Heaven thought fit to favour your escape,
And call you to the fields of happier France;
Thence, once again, it was my lot to find you
A prisoner here; where, hid amongst a crowd
Of undistinguished slaves, with less restraint,
I shared your frequent converse ;——

It pleased your pity, shall I say your friendship?
Or rather, shall I call it generous charity?
To form that noble purpose, to redeem
Distressful Zara-you procured my ransom,
And, with a greatness that out-soar'd a crown,
Returned yourself a slave, to give me freedom;
But Heaven has cast our fate for different climes:
Here, in Jerusalem, I fix for ever;

Yet, among all the shine that marks my fortune,
I shall, with frequent tears, remember yours;
Your goodness will for ever soothe my heart,
And keep your image still a dweller there:
Warmed by your great example to protect
That faith, which lifts humanity so high,
I'll be a mother to distressful Christians.

Ner. Can Christians owe so dear a gift to Zara?

Zar. Hopeless I gathered courage to intreat The sultan for his liberty-amazed,

So soon to gain the happiness I wished! See where they bring the good old chief, grown dim

With age, by pain and sorrows hastened on! Chat. How is my heart dissolved with sudden joy!

Zar. I long to view his venerable face;
But tears, I know not why, eclipse my sight.
I feel, methinks, redoubled pity for him;
But, I, alas! myself have been a slave;
And when we pity woes which we have felt,
'Tis but a partial virtue!

Ner. Amazement!-Whence this greatness in an infidel!

Enter LUSIGNAN led in by two Guards. Lus. Where am I? From the dungeon's depth what voice

Has called me to revisit long-lost day?
Am I with Christians?—I am weak-forgive me,
And guide my trembling steps. I'm full of years;
My miseries have worn me more than age.
Am I, in truth, at liberty? [Seating himself.
Chat. You are;

And every Christian's grief takes end with yours.
Lus. O light! O, dearer far than light, that

voice!

who can

Abjure their saving faith, and coldly see
Great Lusignan, their chief, die slow in chains!

Zar. To bring him freedom you behold me here; You will this moment meet his eyes in joy.

VOL. II.

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