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I fear a treacherous foe have now
Begun a fatal harvest! Haste,
Prevent-O wouldst thou see me more with com-

Fly, save them, save the threatened lives of

My father and his friends! I dare not stay Heaven be my guide to shun this gathering ruin! [Exit Eudocia.

Enter CALED,

Cal. [Entering.] So-slaughter, do thy work! These hands look well.

[Looking on his hands. The jovial hunter, ere he quits the field, First signs him in the stag's warm vital stream, With stains like these, to show 'twas gallant sport.


Phocyas! Thou art met-But whether thou art
[Comes forward.
A friend or foe I know not; if a friend,
Which is Eumenes' tent?

Pho. Hold- -pass no further.

Cal. Say'st thou, not pass?
Pho. No- -on thy life no further.

Cal. What, dost thou frown too! sure thou knowest me not!

Pho. Not know thee! Yes, too well I know thee now,

O murderous fiend! Why all this waste of blood? Didst thou not promise

Cal. Promise! Insolence!

'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!

Pho. That's well-go on-I swear I thank thee.

Speak it again, and strike it through my ear! 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-0 thou robber!- Give me

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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 enters ABUDAH attended.

Abu. Forbear, forbear, and sheath the bloody sword!

Erim. Abudah! Is this well?
Abu. No-I must own

You have cause-O Mussulmans, look here!

Where, like a broken spear, your arm of war
Is thrown to earth!

Eum. Ha! Caled?

Abu. Dumb and breathless.

Then thus has Heaven chastised us in thy fall,
And thee, for violated faith. Farewell,
Thou great, but cruel man!

Erm. His thirst of blood
In his own blood is quenched.

Abu. Bear hence his clay

Back to Damascus. Cast a mantle first
O'er this sad sight: so should we hide his faults.
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!
Good Abubeker has breathed out his spirit
To him that gave it. Yet your caliph lives,
Lives now in Omar. See, behold his signet,
Appointing me, such is his will, to lead
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 untouched, your persons safe,
Nor shall our troops, henceforth, on pain of

Molest your march. If more you ask, 'tis granted.
Eum. Still just and brave! thy virtues would

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'Tis but life's chequered lot.

1 Offi. Eumenes mourns

let us

[They withdraw to one side of the stage. A friend's unhappy fall; Herbis is slain ; A settled gloom seemed to hang heavy on him, The effect of grief, 'tis thought, for his lost son. When, on the first attack, like one that sought The welcome means of death, with desperate valour

He pressed the foc, and met the fate he wished. Art. See, where Eumenes comes!- -What's this? He seems

To lead some wounded friend

-Alas! 'tisEnter EUMENES leading in PHOCYAS, with an arrow in his breast.

Eum. Give me thy wound! O I could bear it for thee!

This goodness melts my heart. What! in a mo

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No longer now my dazzled eyes behold thee Through passion's mists; my soul now gazes on thee,

And sees thee lovelier in unfading charms!
Bright as the shining angel host that stood-
Whilst Ibut there it smarts-

Eud. Look down, look down,

Ye pitying powers, and help his pious sorrow! Eum. 'Tis not too late, we hope, to give thee help.

See! yonder is my tent: we'll lead thee thither; Come, enter there, and let thy wound be dressed. Perhaps it is not mortal.

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To part

-but, oh!

Pho. No more- -death is now painful! But say, my friends, whilst I have breath to ask, (For still methinks all your concerns are mine) Whither have you designed to bend your journey? Eum. Constantinople is my last retreat, If Heaven indulge my wish; there I've resolved To wear out the dark winter of my life, An old man's stock of days.-I hope not many.

Eud. There will I dedicate myself to Heaven. O, Phocyas, for thy sake, no rival else Shall e'er possess my heart. My father too Consents to this my vow. My vital flame There, like a taper on the holy altar, Shall waste away; till Heaven relenting hears Incessant prayers for thee and for myself, And wing my soul to meet with thine in bliss. For in that thought I find a sudden hope, As if inspired, springs in my breast, and tells me, That thy repenting frailty is forgiven, And we shall meet again, to part no more. Pho.[Plucking out the arrow.] Then all is done -'twas the last pang- -at lengthI've given up thee, and the world now is-nothing.

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SCENE I.-Battlements, with a Sea Prospect. | Is this a night for walks of contemplation?

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Something unusual hangs upon your heart,
And I will know it; by our loves I will.
To you I sacrificed my virgin fame;
Ask I too much to share in your distress?
Zan. In tears? Thou fool! then hear me, and
be plunged

In hell's abyss, if ever it escape thee.
To strike thee with astonishment at once,
I hate Alonzo. First recover that,

And then thou shalt hear farther.

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Has strove to bury it beneath a heap
Of kindnesses, and thinks it is forgot.
Insolent thought! and like a second blow!
Affronts are innocent, where men are worthless;
And such alone can wisely drop revenge.
Isa. But with more temper, Zanga, tell your

To see your strong emotions startles me.

Zan. Yes, woman, with the temper that befits it.

Has the dark adder venom? So have I,
When trod upon. Proud Spaniard, thou shalt
feel me !

For from that day, that day of my dishonour,
I from that day have cursed the rising sun,
Which never failed to tell me of my shame.
I from that day have blessed the coming night,
Which promised to conceal it; but in vain,
The blow returned for ever in my dream.
Yet on I toiled, and groaned for an occasion
Of ample vengeance; none is yet arrived.
Howe'er, at present I conceive warm hopes
Of what may wound him sore in his ambition,
Life of his life, and dearer than his soul.
By nightly march he purposed to surprise
The Moorish camp; but I have taken care
They shall be ready to receive his favour.
Failing in this, a cast of utmost moment,
Would darken all the conquests he has won.
Isa. Just as I entered, an express arrived.
Zan. To whom?

Isa. His friend, Don Carlos.

Zan. Be propitious,

Oh! Mahomet, on this important hour,
And give, at length, my famished soul revenge!
What is revenge, but courage to call in
Our honour's debts, and wisdom to convert

Others' self-love into our own protection? But see, the morning dawns;

I'll seek Don Carlos, and enquire my fate.

SCENE II-The Palace.


Enter Don MANUEL and Don CARLOS. Man. My lord don Carlos, what brings your express?

Cur. Alonzo's glory, and the Moors' defeat. The field is strewed with twice ten thousand slain,

Though he suspects his measures were betrayed.
He'll soon arrive. Oh, how I long to embrace
The first of heroes, and the best of friends!
I loved fair Leonora long before

The chance of battle gave me to the Moors,
From whom so late Alonzo set me free;

| And while I groaned in bondage, I deputed
This great Alonzo, whom her father honours,
To be my gentle advocate in love,

To stir her heart, and fan its fires for me.
Man. And what success?

Car. Alas, the cruel maid

Indeed her father, who, though high at court,
And powerful with the king, has wealth at heart,
To heal his devastation from the Moors,
Knowing I am richly freighted from the east,
My fleet now sailing in the sight of Spain,
(Heaven guard it safe through such a dreadful

Caresses me, and urges her to wed.
Man. Her aged father, see,
Leads her this way.

Car. She looks like radiant Truth,
Brought forward by the hand of hoary Time-
You to the port with speed, 'tis possible
Some vessel is arrived. Heaven grant it bring
Tidings, which Carlos may receive with joy !


Alv. Don Carlos, I am labouring in your fa


With all a parent's soft authority,
And earnest counsel.

Car. Angels second you!

For all my bliss or misery hangs on it.

Alv. Daughter, the happiness of life depends On our discretion, and a prudent choice; Look into those they call unfortunate, And, closer viewed, you will find they are unwise: Some flaw in their own conduct lies beneath, And 'tis the trick of fools, to save their credit, Which brought another language into use. Don Carlos is of ancient, noble blood,

And then his wealth might mend a prince's for


For him the sun is labouring in the mines,
A faithful slave, and turning earth to gold.
His keels are freighted with that sacred power,
By which even kings and emperors are made.
Sir, you have my good wishes, and I hope

[To Carlos.
My daughter is not indisposed to hear you. [Erit.
Car. Oh, Leonora! why art thou in tears?
Because I am less wretched than I was?
Before your father gave me leave to woo you,
Hushed was your bosom, and your eyes serene.
Will you for ever help me to new pains,
And keep reserves of torment in your hand,
To let them loose on every dawn of joy?

Leon. Think you my father too indulgent to

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