That drove me out an exile from those walls, Which I so late defended.

Abu. Can it be?

Are these thy Christian friends?

Cal. 'Tis well-we thank them:

They help us to subdue themselves-But who Was the companion of thy flight?-A woman? So Daran said

Pho. 'Tis there I am most wretched-
Oh! I am torn from all my soul held dear,
And my life's blood flows out upon the wound!
That woman-'twas for her-How shall I speak
it?

Eudocia, Oh farewell!-I'll tell you, then,
As fast as these heart-rending sighs will let me;
I loved the daughter of the proud Eumenes,
And long in secret wooed her; not unwelcome
To her my visits; but I feared her father,
Who oft had pressed her to detested nuptials,
And therefore durst not, till this night of joy,
Avow to him my courtship. Now, I thought her
Mine, by a double claim, of mutual vows,
And service yielded at his greatest need:
When, as I moved my suit, with sour disdain,
He mocked my service, and forbade my love;
Degraded me from the command I bore,
And with defiance bade me seek the foe.
How has his curse prevailed!-The generous
maid

Was won, by my distress, to leave the city;
And cruel fortune made me thus your prey.
Abu. [Aside.] My soul is moved-Thou wert
a man, O prophet!

Forgive, if 'tis a crime, a human sorrow,
For injured worth, though in an enemy

Pho. Now since you have heard my story,
set me free,

That I may save her yet, dearer than life,
From a tyrannic father's threatened force;
Gold, gems, and purple vests, shall pay my ran-

som;

Nor shall my peaceful sword henceforth be drawn In fight, nor break its truce with you for ever. Cal. No there's one way, a better, and but

one,

To save thyself, and make some reparation
For all the numbers thy bold hand has slain.

Pho. O, name it quickly, and my soul will bless thee!

Cal. Embrace our faith, and share with us our fortunes.

Pho. Then I am lost again!
Cal. What! when we offer

Not freedom only, but to raise thee high
To greatness, conquest, glory, heavenly bliss!
Pho. To sink me down to infamy, perdition,
Here and hereafter! Make my name a curse
To present times, to every future age

A proverb and a scorn!-take back thy mercy,
And know I now disdain it.

Cal. As thou wilt.

The time's too precious to be wasted longer

In words with thee. Thou know'st thy doomfarewell.

Abu. [To Cal. Aside.] Hear me, Caled! grant
him some short space;

Perhaps he will at length accept thy bounty.
Try him, at least-

Cal. Well-be it so, then. Daran, Guard well thy charge-Thou hast an hour to live;

If thou art wise, thou may'st prolong that term; If not-why-Fare thee well, and think of death. [Exeunt Cal. and Abu. Pho. [Dar. waiting at a distance.] Farewell, and think of death! Was it not so?

Do murderers then preach morality?
But how to think of what the living know not,
And the dead cannot, or else may not tell?-
What art thou, O thou great mysterious terror!
The way to thee we know! disease, famine,
Sword, fire, and all thy ever-open gates,
That day and night stand ready to receive us.
But what's beyond them?-Who will draw that
veil?

Yet death's not there-No; it is a point of time,
The verge 'twixt mortal and immortal beings.
It mocks our thoughts! On this side all is life;
And when we have reached it, in that very instant
'Tis past the thinking of! Oh! if it be
The pangs, the throes, the agonizing struggles
When soul and body part, sure I have felt it,
And there's no more to fear.

Dar. [Aside.] Suppose I now
Dispatch him!-Right-What need to stay for

orders?

I wish I durst-Yet what I dare I'll do. Your jewels, christian-You'll not need these trifles[Searching him. Pho. I pray thee, slave, stand off-My soul's too busy

To lose a thought on thee.

Enter ABUDAH.

Abu. What's this?-forbear!
Who gave thee leave to use this violence?

[Takes the jewels from him, and lays them
on a table.

Dar. [Aside.] Denied my booty? Curses on his head!

Was not the founder of our law a robber?
Why 'twas for that I left my country's gods,
Menaph and Uzza. Better still be pagan,
Than starve with a new faith.

Abu. What, dost thou mutter?
Daran, withdraw, and better learn thy duty.
Erit Dar.

Phocyas, perhaps thou knowest me not-
Pho. I know

Thy name Abudah, and thy office here,
The second in command. What more thou art
Indeed I cannot tell.

Abu. True, for thou yet
Knowest not I am thy friend.

The guards, without, keep silent watch around us.. Pho. Again-it calls-'tis she-0 lead me to her

Abu. Thy passion mocks thee with imagined sounds.

Pho. Sure it was Eudocia's voice cried out, 'Forbear!'

What shall I do ?-Oh Heaven!

Abu. Heaven shows thee what.

Nay, now it is too late; see, Caled comes
With anger on his brow. Quickly withdraw
To the next tent, and there-

Pho. [Rising.] What do I see? Damascus! conquest! ruin! rapes and murder! Villains! Is there no more-0 save her, save her! [Exeunt Pho. and Abu.

Enter CALED and DARAN.

Dar. Behold, on thy approach, they shift their ground.

Cal. 'Tis as thou sayest, he trifles with my

Omar and Serjabil? it is well, I see them.
You know your duty. You, Abdorraman,
Must charge with Raphan. Mourn, thou haugh-
ty city!

The bow is bent, nor canst thou 'scape thy doom. Who turns his back henceforth, our prophet curse him!

Dar. But who commands the trusty bands of Mecca?

Thou knowest their leader fell in the last fight. Cal. 'Tis true; thou, Daran, well deservest that charge;

I've marked what a keen hatred, like my own, Dwells in thy breast against these christian dogs.

Dar. Thou dost me right.

Cal. And therefore I'll reward it.

sabre,

For since I saw him now so lost in passion,
That must be left to his more temperate thoughts.
Meantime I urged, conjured, at last constrained
him,

By all he held most dear, nay, by the voice
Of Providence, that called him now to save,
With her he loved, perhaps the lives of thousands,
No longer to resist his better fate,
But join his arms in present action with us,
And swear he would be faithful.
Cal. What, no more?
Than he's a christian still!

Abu. Have patience yet:
For if by him we can surprize the city——
Cal. Savst thou?

Abu. Hear what's agreed; but on the terms That every unresisting life be spared.

I shall command some chosen faithful bands, Phocyas will guide us to the gate, from whence He late escaped, nor do we doubt but there With ease to gain admittance.

What, Abudah!

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 pledged;

Rob me of that who dares. [They stop.] I know thee, Caled,

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.

Cal. Thou art a Christian,

I swear thou art, and hast betrayed 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 a while;

I pledge my life to answer the conditions

[Exeunt Eumenes, Herbis, &c. Why, Caled, do we thus expose ourselves A scorn to nations that despise our law? Thou call'st me Christian--What! Is it because I prize my plighted faith, that I'm a Christian? Come, 'tis not well, and if

Cal. 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

peace?

Why sleeps thy sword?

Beside some few slight arms for their defence

Against the mountain robbers.

Cal. Now, by Mahomet, Thou hast equipped an army!

Abu. Canst thou doubt

The greatest part by far will chuse to stay,
Receive our law, or pay the accustomed tribute?
What fear we then from a few wretched bands
Of scattered fugitives?—Besides, thou know'st
What towns of strength remain yet unsubdued.
Let us appear this once like generous victors,
So future conquests shall repay this bounty,
And willing provinces even court subjection.

Cal. Well-be it on thy head, if worse befall! This once I yield—but see it thus proclaimed Through all Damascus, that who will depart Must leave the place this instant- -Pass, [Exeunt.

move on.

SCENE II.-The outside of a nunnery.

Enter EUDOCIA,

Eud. Darkness is fled; and yet the morning light

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.
This place has holy charms; rapine and murder
Dare not approach it, but are awed to distance.
I've heard that even these infidels have spared
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 seemed complaining?

Hark-No-O torture! Whither shall I turn me?

I've searched the palace rooms in vain; and now, I know not why, some instinct brought me hither; 'I was here last night we met. Dear, dear Eudocia !

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 escaped 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 raised to life immortal,

And feel I'm blest beyond the power of change.

Eud. O, yet beware-lest some event unknown Again should part us.

Pho. [Aside.] Heaven avert the omen! None can, my fair, none shall.

Eud. Alas! thy transports

Make thee forget; is not the city taken?
Pho. It is.

Eud. And are we not beset with foes?
Pho. There are no foes-or none to thee
No danger.

Eud. No foes?

Pho. I know not how to tell thee yet;— But think, Eudocia, that my matchless love, And wondrous causes pre-ordained conspiring, For thee have triumphed o'er the fiercest foes, And turned 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. Enquire 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, favoured 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?

Pho. Indulge no more thy melancholy thoughts! Damascus is thy home.

Eud. And yet thou sayest

It is no longer ours!

Where is my father? Pho. To show thee, too, how Fate seems eve

ry way

To guard thy safety, e'en thy father now,
Wert thou within his power, would stand de-
feated

Of his tyrannic vow. Thou know'st last night
What hope of aid flattered this foolish city.
At break of day, the Arabian scouts had seized
A second courier, and, from him, 'tis learned
That on their march the army mutinied,
And Eutyches was slain,

Eud. And yet, that now

Is of the least importance to my peace.
But answer me; say, where is now my father?
Pho. Or gone, or just preparing to depart.
Eud. What! Is our doom reversed? And is
he then
The wretched fugitive?

Pho. Thou heavenly maid!

To free thee, then, from every anxious thought, Know, I've once more, wronged as I am, ev'n saved

Thy father's threatened life; nay, saved Da

mascus

From blood and slaughter, and from total ruin. Terms are obtained, and general freedom granted To all that will, to leave in peace the city.