Yield up thy sword, if thou wouldst share our
safety.
Thou com'st too late to bring us news.
The news I bring is from the eastern guard.
Caled has forc'd the gate, and-but he's here.
[A Cry without, Fly, fly, they follow-
Quarter, mercy, quarter!
Caled. [Without] No quarter! Kill, I say.
Are they not Christians!
More blood! our prophet asks it.
Enter CALED and DARAN.
Well met!-But wherefore are the looks of peace?
Why sleeps thy sword?
Abu. Caled, our task is over.
Behold the chiefs! they have resign'd the palace.
Caled. And sworn t'obey our law?
Receive our law, or pay th'accustomed tribute?
What fear we then from a few wretched bands
Of scatter'd fugitives?-Besides, thou know'st
What towns of strength remain yet unsubdu'd.
Let us appear this once like generous victors,
So future conquests shall repay this bounty,
And willing provinces ev'n court subjection.
Caled. Well-be it on thy head, if worse
befall!
This once I yield-but see it thus proclaim'd
Through all Damascus, that who will depart,
Must leave the place this instant-Pass, move
[Exit.
SCENE II.-The Outside of a Nunnery.
Eud. Darkness is fled; and yet the morning
Gives me more fears than did night's deadly gloom.
Within, without, all, all are foes-Oh, Phocyas, Thou art perhaps at rest! would I were too! [After a Pause.
Abu. Hold yet, and hear me-Heaven by me This place has holy charms! rapine and murder
The sword its cruel task. On easy terms
We've gain'd a bloodless conquest.
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 on. Nay, he who stirs,
First makes his way through me. My honour's pledg'd;
Rob me of that who dares. [They stop] I know thee, Cafed,
Chief in command; bold, valiant, wise, and
faithful;
But yet remember I'm a Mussulman;
Nay more, thou know'st, companion of the
prophet;
And what we vow is sacred.
Caled. Thou'rt a Christian,
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 casts reproach-Christians, withdraw
I pledge my life to answer the conditions-
[Exeunt Eumenes, Herbis, etc.
Why, Caled, do we thus expose ourselves
A scorn to nations that despise our law?
Thou call'st me Christian-What! Is it because
pre my plighted faith, that I'm a Christian?
Come, is not well, and if—
Caled. 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 than a mule's burden;
The chiefs six mules, and ten the governor;
Besides some few slight arms for their defence
Against the mountain robbers.
Caled. Now, by Mahomet,
Thou hast equipp'd an army!
Abu. Canst thou doubt
Dare not approach it, but are aw'd to distance.
I've heard that even these infidels have spar'd
Walls sacred to devotion-World, farewell!
Here will I hide me, till the friendly grave
Opens its arms, and shelters me for ever! [Exit.
Enter PHOCYAS.
Pho. Did not I hear the murmurs of a voice This way?-A woman's too!-and seem'd complaining!
Hark!-No-O torture! Whither shall I turn me?
'Twas here last night we met. Dear, dear Eudocia?
Might I once more- [Going out, he meets her.
Eud. Who calls the lost Eudocia?
Sure 'tis a friendly voice!
Pho. 'Tis she-O rapture!
Eud. Is't possible-my Phocyas!
Pho. My Eudocia!
Do I yet call thee mine?
Eud. Do I yet see thee?
Yet hear thee speak? O how hast thou escap'd From barbarous swords, and men that know not mercy?
Pho. I've borne a thousand deaths since our
last parting.
But wherefore do I talk of death?-for now,
Methinks I'm rais'd to life immortal,
And feel I'm blest beyond the power of change;
For thee have triumph'd o'er the fiercest foes,
And turn'd them friends.
Eud. Amazement! Friends!
O all ye guardian powers!-Say on-O lead me,
Lead me through this dark maze of providence,
Which thou hast trod, that I may trace thy steps
With silent awe, and worship as I pass.
Pho. Inquire no more-thou shalt know all
hereafter-
Let me conduct thee hence.
Eud. O whither next?
To what far distant home?-But 'tis enough
That, favour'd thus of heaven, thou art my guide.
And as we journey on the painful way,
Say, wilt thou then beguile the passing hours,
And open all the wonders of the story?
Where is my father?
Pho. Thou heavenly maid!
Know, I've once more, wrong'd as I am,even sav'd
The greatest part by far will choose to stay, Thy father's threaten'd life: nay, sav'd Damascus
From blood and slaughter, and from total ruin.
O didst thou know to what deadly gulfs
Of horror and despair I have been driven
This night, ere my perplex'd, bewilder'd soul
Could find its way!-thou saidst that thou wouldst
chide?
I fear thou wilt: indeed I have done that,
I could have wish'd t'avoid-but for a cause
So lovely, so belov'd—
Eud. What dost thou mean?
I'll not indulge a thought that thou couldst do
One act unworthy of thyself, thy honour,
And that firm zeal against these foes of heaven:
Thou couldst not save thy life by means inglorious.
Pho. Alas thou know'st me not-I'm man,
frail man,
To error born; and who, that's man, is perfect?
To save my life! O no, well was it risk'd
For thee! had it been lost, 'twere not too much,
And thou art'safe:--O whatwouldst thou have said,
If I had risk'd my soul to save Eudocia?
Eud. O Phocyas! was it well to try me thus?
And yet another deadly fear succeeds!
How came these wretches hither? Who reviv'd
Their fainting arms to unexpected triumph?
For while thou fought'st, and fought'st the
Christian cause,
These batter'd walls were rocks impregnable,
Their towers of adamant. But, oh, I fear
Some act of thine-
Eud. The cause! there is no cause-
Not universal nature could afford
The wealth of nations, nay of all the world,
A cause for this. What where dominion, pomp,
If weigh'd with faith unspotted, heavenly truth,
Thoughts free from guilt, the empire of the mind,
And all the triumph of a godlike breast,
Firm and unmov'd in the great cause of virtue?
Pho. No more-Thou waken'st in my tor-
tur'd heart
Oh, I'm undone! I know it, and can bear
The cruel, conscious worm, that stings to madness!
To be undone for thee, but not to lose thee.
Eud. Poor wretch!-I pity thee!— but art
thou Phocyas,
The man I lov'd?—I could have dy'd with thee
A glorious pair, and soar'd above the stars:
Ere thou didst this: then we had gone together,
But never, never
Eud. Ha,speak-Oh no,be dumb-it cannot be! To seal thy doom, to bind a hellish league, Will I be made the curs'd reward of treason, And yet thy looks are chang'd, thy lips grow pale. And to ensure thy everlasting woe. Why dost thou shake?-Alas! I tremble too! Thou couldst not, hast not sworn to Mahomet? Pho. What league ?-'tis ended-I renounce Pho. No-I should first have dy'd-nay, I bend to heaven and thee-O thou divine, it-thus[Kneels. Do thou but pity yet the wretched Phocyas, Thou matchless image of all perfect goodness! Heaven will relent, and all may yet be well. Eud. No-we must part. Thy loss in me is worth one drooping lear: Then do not think First sacrifice to heaven that fatal passion But if thou wouldst be reconcil'd to heaven, Which caus'd thy fall; forget the lost Eudocia. Canst thou forget her?-Oh! the killing torture, Farewell for-still I cannot speak that word, To think 'twas love, excess of love, divorc'd us! These tears speak for me-O farewell— [Exiz. Return, return and speak it; say, for ever! Pho. [Raving] For ever! She's gone-and now she joins the fugitives. O hear, all gracious heaven! wilt thou at once Forgive: and, oh, inspire me to some act Prosper this day, or let it be my last. This day, that may in part redeem what's past! [Exit.
Pho. No more-I'll tell the all;
I found the wakeful foe in midnight council,
Resolv'd ere day to make a fresh attack,
Keen for revenge, and hungry after slaughter-
Could my
rack'd soul bear that, and think of thee?
Nay, think of thee expos'd a helpless prey
To some fierce ruffian's violating arms?
O, had the world been mine, in that extreme
I should have given whole provinces away;
Nay, all-and thought it little for my ransom!
Eud. For this then-Oh, thou hast betray'd
the city!
Distrustful of the righteous powers above,
That still protect the chaste and innocent!
And to avert a feign'd, uncertain danger,
Thou hast brought certain ruin on thy country!
Pho. No, the sword,
Which threaten'd to have fill'd the streets with
thou wert angry. Daran. And, durst I say it so, my chief, I am; all│Take it, and I am silent. I've spoke-If it offends, my head is thine;
I sheath'd in peace; thy father, thou, and
The citizens are safe, uncaptiv'd, free.
Eud. Safe! free! O no-life, freedom, every
good,
Turns to a curse, if sought by wicked means!
Yet sure it cannot be! are these the terms
On which we meet?-No, we can never meet
On terms like these; the hand of death itself
"Could not have torn us from each other's arms,
Like this dire act!
'Tis thou hast blasted all my joys for ever, And cut down hope, like a poor, short-liv'd flower, Never to grow again!
If in my heart's dear anguish I've been forc'd
Awhile from what I was-dost thou reject me?
I know thee honest, and perhaps I
Caled. No, say on.
What knits thy brows in frowns-
Daran. Is this, my leader,
Behold the vanquish'd Christian triumph still,
A conquer'd city?-View yon vale of palms:
Rich in his flight, and mocks thy barren
Caled. The vale of palms?
Daran. Beyond those hills, the place
Where they agreed this day to meet and halt
Just now I've view'd their camp-O, I could cur
To gather all their forces; there disguis',
My eyes for what they've seen.
Caled. What hast thou seen?
Daran. Why, all Damascus :-All its
its life,
Its heart blood, all its treasure, piles of plate,
Crosses enrich'd with gems, arras and silks,
And vests of gold, unfolded to the sun,
That rival all his lustre !
Caled. How?
The bees are wisely bearing off their honey,
And soon the empty hive will be our own.
Caled. So forward too! curse on this fool-
ish treaty!
Daran. Forward- it looks as if they had
been forewarn'd.
By Mahomet, the land wears not the face
Of war, but trade! and thou wouldst swear its
Were sending forth their loaded caravans
To all the neighb'ring countries.
The sun will soon go down upon our sorrows,
And, till to-morrow's dawn, this is our home:
Meanwhile, each, as he can, forget his loss,
And bear the present lot.
3 Offi. Sir, I have mark'd
The camp's extent: 'tis stretch'd quite through the valley.
I think that more than half the city's here.
Eum. The prospect gives me much relief. I'm
pleas'd,
My honest countrymen, t'observe your numbers:
And yet it fills my eyes with tears-'Tis said,
The mighty Persian wept, when he survey'd
His numerous army, but to think them mortal;
Yet he then flourish'd in prosperity.
Alas! what's that?-Prosperity!-a harlo!,
Caled. Dogs! infidels! 'tis more than was That smiles but to betray!
Hear me, all gracious heaven,
Daran. And shall we not pursue them-Let me wear out my small remains of life,
Daran. I knew my general would not suffer
this,
Therefore I've troops prepar'd without the gate;
Just mounted for pursuit. Our Arab horse
Will in few minutes reach the place; yet still
I must repeat my doubts-that devil, Phocyas,
Will know it soon-I met him near the gate:
My nature sickens at him, and forebodes
I know not what of ill.
Caled. No more; away
With thy cold fears-we'll march this very
instant,
And quickly make this thriftless conquest good: The sword too has been wrong'd, and thirsts [Exeunt.
Obscure, content with humble poverty,
Or, in affliction's hard but wholesome school,
If it must be-I'll learn to know myself,
And that's more worth than empire. But, O
heaven,
Curse me no more with proud prosperity!
It has undone me!
Enter HERBIS.
Herbis! where, my friend,
Hast thou been this long hour?
Her. On yonder summit,
To take a farewell prospect of Damascus.
Eum. And is it worth a look?
Her. No-I've forgot it.
All our possessions are a grasp of air:
We're cheated, whilst we think we hold them fast:
And when they're gone, we know that they
were nothing:
But I've a deeper wound.
Eum. Poor, good old man!
'Tis true-thy son-there thou'rt indeed unhappy..
Enter ARTAMON
What, Artamon! art thou here, too?
Arl. Yes, sir.
I never boasted much,
Yet, I've some honour, and a soldier's pride;
I like not these new lords.
Eum. Thou'rt brave and honest.
Nay, we'll not yet despair. A time may come,
When from these brute barbarians we may wrest
SCENE II.—A Valley full of Tents; Baggage The flatterer, hope, is ready with his song,
Once more our pleasant seats.-Alas! how soon
and Harness lying up and down amongst To charm us to forgetfulness!-No more-
them. The Prospect terminating with Palm Let that be left to heaven.--See, Herbis, see,
Trees and Hills at a Distance.
Enter EMENES, with Officers and Attendants. Eum. [Entering] Sleep on-and angels be thy guard!-soft slumber
Has gently stole her from her griefs awhile;
Methinks we've here a goodly city yet.
Was it not thus our great forefathers liv'd,
In better times-in humble fields and tents,
With all their flocks and herds, their moving
wealth?
approach the tent--Are out-guards See, too, where our own Pharphar winds his
On yonder hills?
Offi. They are.
[To an Officer. Through the long vale, as if to follow us; And kindly offers his cool wholesome draughts,
Eum. [Striking his Breast] Damascus, O-To ease us in our march!-Why, this is plenty,
Sull art thou here!-Let me entreat you, friends,
To keep strict order; I have no command,
And can but now advise you.
Off. You are still
Our head and leader.
We're all prepar'd to follow you.
My daughter!-wherefore hast thou left thy tent?
What breaks so soon thy rest?
Eud. Rest is not there,
Or I have sought in vain, and cannot find it.
You have lost nothing; no-you have preserv'd
Immortal wealth, your faith inviolate
To heaven and to your country.
Ruin is yonder, in Damascus, now
The seat abhorr'd of cursed infidels.
Infernal error, like a plague,
Contagion through its guilty palaces,
And we are fled from death.
Eum. Heroic maid!
Thy words are balsam to my griefs. Eudocia,
I never knew thee till this day; I knew not
How many virtues I had wrong'd in thee!
Eud. If you talk thus, you have not yet for-
given me.
Eum. Forgiven thee!-Why, for thee it is,
thee only,
I think, heaven yet may look with pity on us;
Yes, we must all forgive each other now.
Poor Herbis, too-we both have been to blame.
O, Phocyas!--but it cannot be recall'd.
Yet, were he here, we'd ask him pardon too.
My child!-I meant not to provoke thy tears.
Eud. O, why is he not here? Why do I see
Thousands of happy wretches, that but seem
Undone, yet still are bless'd in innocence,
And why was he not one?
Enter an Officer.
Offi. Where is Eumenes?
Eum. What means thy breathless haste?
Offi. I fear there's danger:
For, as I kept my watch, I spy'd afar
Thick clouds of dust, and, on a nearer view,
Perceiv'd a body of Arabian horse
Moving this I saw them wind the hill,
way.
And then lost sight of them.
Where the roads meet on t'other side these hills,
But took them for some band of Christian Arabs,
Crossing the country.-This way did they move?
Offi. With utmost speed.
Eum. If they are Christian Arabs,
They come as friends; if other, we're secure
By the late terms. Reiire awhile, Eudocia,
Till I return.
[Exit Eudocia.
I'll to the guard myself.
Soldier, lead on the way.
Enter another Officer,
20ffi. Arm! arm! we're ruin'd! The foe is in the camp.
Eum. So soon?
2 Off. They've quitted
Their horses, and with sword in hand have forc'd
Our guard; they say they come for plunder.
Eum, Villains!
Sure Caled knows not of this treachery!
Come on-we can fight still. We'll make them
know
What 'tis to urge the wretched to despair.
Daran. Let the fools fight at distance-Here's
the harvest.
Reap, reap, my countrymen!-Ay, there-first
clear
What's here? a woman!-fair
[Looking between the Tents.
She seems, and well attir'd!-It shall be so.
She's my first prize, and then- [Exit.
Re-enter DARAN, with EUDOCIA.
Eud. [Struggling] Mercy! O, spare me!
Heaven, hear my cries!
spare me!
Daran. Woman, thy cries are vain:
No help is near.
To loose thy hold-
Pho. Villain, thou liest! take that,
[Pushing at Daran with his Spear, who falls.
Eudocia!
Eud. Phocyas! O, astonishment!
tremble still-and scarce have power to ask thee
Then is it thus that heaven has heard my prayers?
How thou art here, or whence this sudden
outrage?
Pho. Sure every angel watches o'er thy safety!
Thou seest 'tis death t'approach thee without awe,
And barbarism itself cannot profane thee.
Eud. Whence are these alarms?
Pho. Some stores remov'd, and not allow'd
by treaty,
Have drawn the Saracens to make a search.
Perhaps 'twill quickly be agreed-But, oh!
Thou know'st, Eudocia, I'm a banish'd man,
And 'tis a crime I'm here once more before thee;
Else, might I speak, 'twere better for the present,
If thou wouldst leave this place.
Eud. No-I have a father,
(And shall I leave him?) whom we both have
wrong'd:
And yet, alas!
For this last act how would I thank thee,
Phocyas! -
I've nothing now but prayers and tears to give,
That fate allows this short reprieve, that thus
Cold, fruitless thanks!-But 'tis some comfort yet,
We may behold each other, and once more
May mourn our woes, ere yet again we part
Pho. For ever!
'Tis then resolv'd-It was thy cruel sentence,
And I am here to execute that doom.
Eud. What dost thou mean?
Pho. [Kneeling] Thus at thy feet-
Eud. O, rise!
Pho. Never-No, here I'll lay my burden down
I've tried its weight, nor can support it longer
Take thy last look; if yet thy eyes can bear
To look upon a wretch accurs'd, cast off
By heaven and thee-
Didst thou not mark-thou didst, when last v
O cruel man! Why wilt thou rack me thus ?
parted,
The pangs,
Could ever drive me from thee!- Dost thon no
strugglings of my suffring sou
That nothing but the hand of heaven itself
Reproach me thus? or canst thou havea thoug
That I can e'er forget thee?
Pho. [Rises] Have a care!
I'll not be tortur'd more with thy false pity! Pho. Not know thee?--Yes, too well I know No, I renounce it. See, I am prepar'd.'
[Shows a Dagger. O murd'rous fiend! Why all this waste of blood?
Didst thou not promise-
Thy cruelty is mercy now.-Farewell!
And death is now but a release from torment! Caled. Promise!-Insolence!
Eud. Hold-stay thee yet!-0, madness of 'Tis well, 'tis well; for now I know thee too.
Perfidious, mongrel slave! Thou double traitor!
False to thy first and to thy latter vows!
Villain!
And wouldst thou die? Think, ere thou leap'st
When thou hast trod that dark, that unknown way,
Canst thou return? What if the change prove worse?
This only pray'r!-Heav'n will consent to this.
Let me but follow thee, where'er thou go'st,
But see thee, hear thy voice; be thou my angel,
To guide and govern my returning steps,
Till long contrition, and unweary'd duty,
Small expiate my guilt.
Eud. No more-This shakes
My firmest thoughts, and if [4 Cry is heard.
What shrieks of death!
I fear a treach'rous foe have now
Begun a fatal harvest!-Haste,
Present-0, wouldst thou see me more with
comfort,
Fy, save them, save the threaten'd lives of Chris
Pho. That's well-go on-I swear I thank thee. Speak it again, and strike it through my car! A villain! Yes, thou mad'st me so, thou devil! And mind'st me now what to demand from thee. Give, give me back my former self, my honour, My country's fair esteem, my friends, my allThou canst not-Othou robber!-Give me then Revenge or death! The last I well deserveThat yielded up my soul's best wealth to thee, For which accurs'd be thou, and curs'd thy prophet!
Caled. Hear'st thou this, Mahomet?-Blas-
pheming mouth!
For this thou soon shalt chew the bitter fruit
Of Zacon's tree, the food of fiends below.
Go-speed thee thither-
[Pushes at him with his Lance, which Phocyas puts by, and kills him. Pho. Go thou first thyself.
Caled. [Falls] O dog! thou gnaw'st my
heart!-
False Mahomet!
Is this then my reward?—O!—
Pho. Thanks to the gods, I have reveng'd my [Exit.
Several Parties of Christians and Saracens pass over the further End of the Stage, fighting. The former are beaten. At last EUMENES rallies them, and makes a stand; then enter ABUDAH, attended.
Abu. Forbear, forbear, and sheathe the bloody sword.
Eum. Abudah! is this well?
Abu. No-I must own
You've cause.-O Mussulmans,look here! Behold
Where, like a broken spear, your arm of war
Is thrown to earth!
Eum. Ha! Caled?
Abu. Dumb and breathless.
Then thus has heaven chastis'd us in thy fall,
And thee for violated faith! Farewell,
Thou great, but cruel man!
Eum. This thirst of blood
In his own blood is quench'd.
Abu. Bear hence his clay
My father and his friends!-I dare not stay-Back to Damascus. Cast a mantle first
Heav'n be my guide, to shun this gath'ring ruin! O'er this sad sight: so should we hide his faults.-
Exit. Now hear, ye servants of the prophet, hear!
A greater death than this demands your tears,
For know, your lord, the caliph, is no more!
Laied. So, slaughter,do thy work! These hands Good Abubeker has breath'd out his spirit
look well.
To him that gave it. Yet your caliph lives,
[Looks on his Hands. Lives now in Omar. See, behold his signet,
hocyas!Thou'rt met-But whether thou art here Appointing me, such is his will, to lead
[Comes forward. His faithful armies warring here in Syria.
Alas!-foreknowledge sure of this event
Guided his choice! Obey me then, your chief.
For you, O Christians; know, with speed I came,
On the first notice of this foul design,
Or to prevent it, or repair your wrongs.
Your goods shall be untouch'd, your persons safe,
Nor shall our troops henceforth, on pain of death,
A friend or foc, I know not; if a friend,
Wich is Eumenes' tent?
Pho. Hold, pass no further.
Cated. Say'st thou, not pass?
Plo. No on thy life no further.
Caled. What, dost thou frown too?--Sure,
thou know'st me not!
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