A scimitar. This, and of solid gold
Ten ingots, be the price to buy your absence.
Cal. This, and much more, even all your shi-
ning wealth,

Will soon be ours: look round your Syrian frontiers!

See in how many towns our hoisted flags
Are waving in the wind; Sachna, and Hawran,
Proud Tadmor, Aracah, and stubborn Bosra
Have bowed beneath the yoke-behold our march
O'er half your land, like flame through fields of
harvest.

And last view Aiznadin, that vale of blood!
There seek the souls of forty thousand Greeks,
That, fresh from life, yet hover o'er their bodies.
Then think, and then resolve.

Herb. Presumptuous men!

What though you yet can boast successful guilt, Is conquest only your's? Or dare you hope That you shall still pour on the swelling tide, Like some proud river that has left its banks, Nor ever know repulse?

Eum. Have you forgot!

Not twice seven years are past since e'en your prophet,

Bold as he was, and boasting aid divine,
Was by the tribe of Corish forced to fly,
Poorly to fly, to save his wretched life,
From Mecca to Medina.

Pho. Where is the treasure of my soul!-
Eudocia,

Behold me here impatient, like the miser
That often steals in secret to his gold,
And counts with trembling joy, and jealous trans.
port,

The shining heaps which he still fears to lose. Eud. Welcome, thou brave, thou best deserving lover!

How do I doubly share the common safety,
Since 'tis a debt to thee!-But tell me, Phocyas,
Dost thou bring peace?-Thou dost, and I am
happy!

Pho. Not yet, Eudocia; 'tis decreed by Heaven
I must do more to merit thy esteem.
Peace, like a frighted dove, has winged her flight
To distant hills, beyond these hostile tents;
And through them we must thither force our way,
If we would call the lovely wanderer back
To her forsaken home.

Eud. False flattering hope!

Vanished so soon!—alas, my faithful fears
Return, and tell me, we must still be wretched!
Pho. Not so, my fair; if thou but gently smile,
Inspiring valour, and presaging conquest,
These barbarous foes to peace and love shall soon
Be chased, like fiends before the morning light,
And all be calm again.

Eud. Is the truce ended?

Must war, alas! renew its bloody rage,
And Phocyas ever be exposed to danger?

Pho. Think for whose sake danger itself has

charms.

Dismiss thy fears; the lucky hour comes on,
Full fraught with joys, when my big soul no more
Shall labour with this secret of my passion,
To hide it from thy jealous father's eyes.
Just now, by signals from the plain, I've learned
That the proud foe refuse us terms of honour;
A sally is resolved; the citizens

And soldiers, kindled into sudden fury,
Press all in crowds, and beg I'll lead them on.
Oh, my Eudocia ! if I now succeed-

Did I say if I must, I will; the cause
Is love, 'tis liberty, it is Eudocia !-
What then shall hinder, since our mutual faith
Is pledged, and thou consenting to my bliss,
But I may boldly ask thee of Eumenes,
Nor fear a rival's more prevailing claim?

Eud. May blessings still attend thy arms!-
Methinks

I've caught the flame of thy heroic ardour!
And now I see thee crowned with palm and olive;
The soldiers bring thee back with songs of triumph
And loud applauding shouts; thy rescued country
Resounds thy praise; our emperor Heraclius
Decrees thee honours for a city saved,
And pillars rise, of monumental brass,
Inscribed- -To Phocyas the deliverer.

Pho. The honours and rewards, which thou hast named,

Are bribes too little for my vast ambition. 3 B

SCENE 1.-The Governor's Palace.

Enter EUMENES and HERBIS.

wrong, Eumenes,

And mark the event!

Eum. What could I less? You saw

'Twas vain to oppose it, whilst his eager valour, Impatient of restraint

Herb. His eager valour!

His rashness, his hot youth, his valour's fever !
Must we, whose business is to keep our walls,
And manage warily our little strength,
Must we at once lavish away our blood,
Because his pulse beats high, and his mad cou-
rage

Wants to be breathed in some new enterprize?-
You should not have consented.

Eum. You forget.

'Twas not my voice alone; you saw the people (And sure such sudden instincts are from Heaven!)

Rose all at once to follow him, as if

One soul inspired them, and that soul was Pho

I took you for Eumenes, and I thought
That in Damascus you had chief command.
Eum. What dost thou mean?

Herb. Nay, who's forgetful now?
You say, the people-Yes, that very people,
That coward tribe that pressed you to surrender!
Well may they spurn at lost authority;
Whom they like better, better they'll obey.

Eum. I could curse the giddy changeful slaves,

But that the thought of this great hour's event
Possesses all my soul.-If we are beaten!-
Herb. The poison works; 'tis well-I'll give
him more.
[Aside.

True, if we're beaten, who shall answer that?
Shall you, or I-Are you the governor?
Or say we conquer, whose is then the praise?

Owed its deliverance to a boy.Why, be it, So that he now return with victory;

'Tis honour greatly won, and let him wear it. Yet I could wish I needed less his service. Were Eutyches returned

Herb. [Aside.] That, that's my torture.

I sent my son to the emperor's court, in hopes His merit at this time might raise his fortunes; But Phocyas-curse upon his forward virtues !— Is reaping all this field of fame alone,

Or leaves him scarce the gleanings of a harvest. Eum. See, Artamon with hasty strides return

ing.

He comes alone O friend, thy fears were just.
What are we now, and what is lost Damascus?
Enter ARTAMON.

Art. Joy to Eumenes!
Eum. Joy!is it possible?
Dost thou bring news of victory?

Art. The sun

Is set in blood, and from the western skies
Has seen three thousand slaughtered Arabs fall.
Herb. Is Phocyas safe?

Art. He is, and crowned with triumph.
Herb. [Aside.] My fears indeed were just.
[Shout, A Phocyas! A Phocyas!

Eum. What noise is that?

Herb. The people worshipping their new divinity.

Shortly they'll build him temples.

Eum. Tell us, soldier,

Since thou hast shared the glory of this action, Tell us how it began.

Art. At first the foe

Seemed much surprised; but, taking soon the alarm,

Gathered some hasty troops, and marched to

meet us.

The captain of these bands looked wild and fierce,

His head unarmed, as if in scorn of danger,
And naked to the waist; as he drew near,
He raised his arin, and shook a ponderous lance;
When all at once, as at a signal given,
We heard the Tecbir, so these Arabs call
Their shouts of onset, when with loud appeal
They challenge Heaven, as if demanding con-
quest.

The battle joined, and through the barbarous host,

Fight, fight, and paradise! was all the cry.
At last our leaders met; and gallant Phocyas-
But what are words to tell the mighty wonders
We saw him then perform?--Their chief un-
horsed,

The Saracens soon broke their ranks and fled;
And had not a thick evening fog arose,
(Which sure the devil raised up to save his
friends)

The slaughter had been double

hold!

The hero comes,

-But, be

Enter PHOCYAS, EUMENES meeting him.
Eum. Joy to brave Phocyas!
Eumenes gives him back the joy he sent.

The welcome news has reached this place before thee.

How shall thy country pay the debt she owes thee?

Pho. By taking this as earnest of a debt Which I owe her, and fain would better pay. Her. In spite of envy I must praise him too.

[Aside.

Phocyas, thou hast done bravely, and 'tis fit
Successful virtue take a time to rest.
Fortune is fickle, and may change; besides,
What shall we gain, if from a nighty ocean
By sluices we draw off some little streams?
If thousands fall, ten thousands more remain;
Nor ought we hazard worth so great as thine
Against such odds. Suffice what's done already :
And let us now, in hopes of better days,
Keep wary watch, and wait the expected succours.
Pho. What!to be cooped whole months
within our walls?

To rust at home, and sicken with inaction?
The courage of our men will droop and die,
If not kept up by daily exercise.
Again the beaten foe may force our gates;
And victory, if slighted thus, take wing,
And fly where she may find a better welcome.
Art. [Aside.] It must be so-he hates him, on
my soul!

This Herbis is a foul old envious knave.
Methinks Eumenes too might better thank him.
Eum. [To Herbis aside.] Urge him no more;-
I'll think of thy late warning;
And thou shalt see I'll yet be governor.
A letter brought in.

Pho. [Looking on it.] 'Tis to Eumenes.

O Phocyas, Herbis, Artamon! my friends!
You all are sharers in this news: the storm
Is blowing o'er, that hung like night upon us,
And threatened deadly ruin- -Haste, proclaim
The welcome tidings loud through all the city.
Let sparkling lights be seen from every turret,
To tell our joy, and spread their blaze to heaven.
Prepare for feasts; danger shall wait at distance,
And fear be now no more. The jolly soldier
And citizens shall meet o'er their full bowls,
Forget their toils, and laugh their cares away,
And mirth and triumphs close this happy day.
[Exeunt Herb. and Art.
Pho. And may succeeding days prove yet more
happy!

Well dost thou bid the voice of triumph sound
Through all our streets; our city calls thee fa-

ther;

And say, Eumenes, dost thou not perceive
A father's transport rise within thy breast,
Whilst in this act thou art the hand of Heaven,
To deal forth blessings, and distribute joy?
Eum. The blessings Heaven bestows are freely
sent,

And should be freely shared.

Pho. True-Generous minds Redoubled feel the pleasures they impart. For me, if I've deserved by arms or counsels, By hazards gladly sought, and greatly prospered, Whate'er I've added to the public stock, With joy I see it in Eumenes' hands, And wish but to receive my share from thee.

Eum. I cannot, if I would, withhold thy share. What thou hast done is thine, the fame thy own; And virtuous actions will reward themselves.

Pho. Fame-What is that, if courted for herself?

Less than a vision; a mere sound, an echo,
That calls, with mimic voice, through woods and
labyrinths,

Her cheated lovers; lost and heard by fits,
But never fixed: a seeming nymph, yet nothing,
Virtue indeed is a substantial good,

A real beauty; yet with weary steps
Through rugged ways, by long, laborious service,
When we have traced, and wooed, and won the

dame,

May we not then expect the dower she brings

mascus pay it?

Her riches shall be taxed: name but the sum, Her merchants with some costly gems shall grace thee;

Nor can Heraclius fail to grant thee honours,
Proportioned to thy birth and thy desert.
Pho. And can Eumenes think I would be
bribed

By trash, by sordid gold, to venal virtue?
What! serve my country for the same mean hire,
That can corrupt each villain to betray her?
Why is she saved from the Arabian spoilers,
If to be stripped by her own sons?-Forgive me
If the thought glows on my cheeks! I know
'Twas mentioned, but to prove how much I
scorn it.

As for the emperor, if he owns my conduct,
I shall indulge an honest pride in honours
Which I have strove to merit. Yes, Eumenes,
I have ambition yet the vast reward,
That swells my hopes, and equals all my wishes,
Is in thy gift alone-it is Eudocia.

Eum. Eudocia! Phocyus, I am yet thy friend, And therefore will not hold thee long in doubt. Thou must not think of her.

Pho. Not think of her?
Impossible! She's ever present to me,

My life, my soul! She animates my being,
And kindles up my thoughts to worthy actions.
And why, Eumenes, why not think of her?
Is not my rank-

Eum. Forbear-What need a herald
To tell me who thou art? Yet once again-
Since thou wilt force me to a repetition,
I say, thou must not think of her.

Thou hast already taught my child her duty.
I find the source of all her disobedience,
Her hate of me, her scorn of Eutyches;
Ha! Is it not so!--Come, teli me? I'll forgive
thee:

Hast thou not found her a most ready scholar?
I know thou hast. Why, what a dull old wretch
Was I, to think I ever had a daughter!

Pho. I am sorry that Eumenes thinks-
Eum. No sorry!

Sorry for what? Then thou dost own thou'st wronged me!

That's somewhat yet-Curse on my stupid blindness!

For had I eyes I might have seen it sooner.
Was this the spring of thy romantic bravery,
Thy boastful merit, thy officious service?

Pho. It was with pride I own it-'twas Eudocia,

I have served thee in serving her, thou knowest it,

And thought I might have found a better treat

Impossible! Oh, rather let me walk
Like a dumb ghost, and burst my heart in silence.
[Exit.

SCENE II.-The Garden.
Enter EUDOCIA.

Eud. Why must we meet by stealth, like guilty lovers!

But 'twill not long be so-What joy it will be
To own my hero in his ripened honours,
And hear applauding crowds pronounce me blest!
Sure he'll be here-See the fair rising moon,
Ere day's remaining twilight scarce is spent,
Hangs up her ready lamp, and with mild lustre
Drives back the hovering shade! Come, Phocy-

as, come;

This gentle season is a friend to love;

And now, methinks, I could with equal passion, Meet thine, and tell thee all my secret soul. Enter PHOCYAS.

He hears me-O my Phocyas!-What-not answer!

Art thou not he; or art some shadow?-
Speak.

Pho. I am indeed a shadow-I am nothingEud. What dost thou mean?—for now I know thee, Phocyas.

Pho. And never can be thine!

It will have vent O barbarous, cursed--but hold

I had forgot it was Eudocia's father!
O, could I too forget how he has used me!
Eud. I fear to ask thee-

-O generous maid!

Pho. Dost thou fear !—Alas, Then thou wilt pity meThou hast charmed down the rage that swelled my heart,

And choaked my voice-now I can speak to thee. And yet 'tis worse than death what I have suffered;

It is the death of honour! Yet that's little; 'Tis more, Eudocia, 'tis the loss of thee!

Eud. Hast thou not conquered? What are all these shouts,

This voice of general joy, heard far around? What are these fires, that cast their glimmering light

Against the sky? Are not all these thy triumphs? Pho. O name not triumph! Talk no more of conquest!

It is indeed a night of general joy,
But not to me! Eudocia, I am come
To take a last farewell of thee for ever.
Eud. A last farewell!

Pho. Yes; How wilt thou hereafter
Look on a wretch despised, reviled, cashiered,
Stript of command, like a base beaten coward?
Thy cruel father-I have told too much;
I should not, but for this, have felt the wounds
I got in fight for him-now, now they bleed.

But I have done and now thou hast my story, Is there a creature so accurst as Phocyas? Eud. And can it be? Is this then thy reward? O Phocyas! never wouldst thou tell me yet That thou hadst wounds; now I must feel them too.

For is it not for me that thou hast borne this? What else could be thy crime?-Wert thou a traitor,

Had'st thou betrayed us, sold us to the foe

Pho. Would I be yet a traitor, I have leave; Nay, I am dared to it with mocking scorn. My crime indeed was asking thee; that only Has cancelled all, if I had any merit! The city now is safe, my service slighted, And I discarded, like an useless thing, Nay, bid begone- -and, if I like that better, Seek out new friends, and join yon barbarous

host.

Alone am grateful to this wondrous man!
To own thee, Phocyas, thus-[Giving her hand.]
nay, glory in thee,

And show, without a blush, how much I love.
We must not part-

Pho. Then I am rich again! [Embracing her.
O, no-we will not part! Confirm it, Heaven!
Now thou shalt see how I will bend my spirit,
With what soft patience I will bear my wrongs,
| Till I have wearied out thy father's scorn.
Yet I have worse to tell thee-Eutyches-
Eud. Why wilt thou name him?
Pho. Now, even now, he's coming!
Just hovering o'er thee, like a bird of prey.
Thy father vows-for I must tell thee all-
'Twas this that wrung my heart, and racked my
brain,

Even to distraction !-vows thee to his bed; Nay, threatened force, if thou refuse obedience. Eud. Force! threatened force! my father

where is nature?

Is that, too, banished from his heart!-O then
I have no father-How have I deserved this?--
[Weeping.

No home, but am henceforth an out-cast orphan;
For I will wander to earth's utmost bounds,
Ere give my hand to that detested contract.