British theatre, comprising tragedies, comedies, operas, and farces; with biogr., critical account and notes, by an Englishman [O. Williams].

There is a father to be found above,
Opinions which he hates. To-night the priest,
Who can restore that father to his daughter. In private introduc'd, attends you here;
Zara. But I have planted pain in Osman's You promis'd him admission.

bosom:

cruel!

Zara. Would I had not!

He loves me, even to death; and I reward him I promis'd too to keep this fatal secret;
With anguish and despair. How base! how My father's urg'd command requir'd it of me;
I must obey, all dangerous as it is;
Compell'd to silence, Osman is enrag'd,
Suspicion follows, and I lose his love.
Enter OSMAN.

But I deserv'd him not; I should have been
Too happy, and the hand of heav'n repell'd me.
Sel. What! will you then regret the glo-
rious loss

And hazard thus a vict'ry bravely won?

Zara. Inhuman victory!-thou dost not know
This love so pow'rful; this sole joy of life;
This first best hope of earthly happiness,
Is yet less pow'rful in my heart than heaven.

To him who made that heart I offer it:
There, there I sacrifice my bleeding passion;
I pour before him ev'ry guilty tear;
I beg him to efface the fond impression,
And fill with his own image all my soul.
But, while I weep and sigh, repent and pray,
Remembrance brings the object of my love,
And ev'ry light illusion floats before him.
I see, I hear him, and again he charms;
Fills my glad soul, and shines 'twixt me and
heav'n!

Oh, all ye royal ancestors! Oh, father!
Mother! You Christians, and the Christians'
God!

You who deprive me of this gen'rous lover!
If you permit me not to live for him,
Let me not live at all, and I am bless'd.

Gen'rous and just, beneficent and brave, Were be but Christian-What can man be more?

I wish, methinks, this rev'rend priest was come
To free me from these doubts, which shake
my soul:

Tet know not why I should not dare to hope,
That beav'n, whose mercy all confess and feel,
Wil pardon and approve th' alliance wish'd,
Perhaps it seats me on the throne of Syria,
To tax my pow'r for these good Christians'
comfort.

Osman. Madam, there was a time when my
charm'd heart

Made it a virtue to be lost in love;
When, without blushing, I indulg'd my flame,
And every day still made you dearer to me.
You taught me, madam, to believe my love
Rewarded and return'd; nor was that hope,
Methinks, too bold for reason. Emperors
Who choose to sigh devoted at the feet
Of beauties, whom the world conceive their
slaves,

Have fortune's claim, at least, to sure success:
But 'twere profane to think of power in love.
Dear as my passion makes you, I decline
Possession of her charms, whose heart's ano-
ther's.
You will not find me a weak, jealous lover,
By coarse reproaches, giving pain to you,
And shaming my own greatness: wounded
'deeply,

Yet shunning and disdaining low complaint,
I come-to tell you-

Zara. Give my trembling heart
A moment's respite.

Osman. Osman, in every trial, shall re-
member

That he is emperor. Whate'er I suffer,
'Tis due to honour that I give up you,
And to my injur'd bosom take despair,
Rather than shamefully possess you sighing,
Convinc'd those sighs were never meant for

me.

Go, madam; you are free-from Osman's pow'r :

Expect no wrongs; but see his face no more. Zara. At last 'tis come-the fear'd, the murd'ring moment

Is come; and I am curs'd by earth and heaven!
[Throws herself on the Ground.
If it is true that I am lov'd no more;

Thou know'st the mighty Saladine, who first If you-
Conquer'd this empire from my father's race, Osman. It is true, my fame requires it;
Who, like my Osman, charm'd th' admiring It is too true that I unwilling leave you;
That I at once renounce you and adore-
Drew breath, though Syrian, from a Christian Zara, you weep!

world,
mother.

1 Zara. If I am doom'd to lose you! Sel. What mean you, madam? Ah, you if I must wander o'er an empty world,

do not sec

Zara. Yes, yes, I see it all; I am not blind: e my country, and my race condemn me; I see that, spite of all, I still love Osman. What if I now go throw me at his feet,

Unloving and unlov'd. Oh! yet do justice
To the afflicted; do not wrong me doubly:
Punish me, if 'tis needful to your peace,
But say not I deserv'd it.

But, ah! my heart was never known to Osman.
May heav'n, that punishes, for ever hate me,

tell him there sincerely what I am?
Sel. Consider that might cost your bro-If I regret the loss of aught but you.

ther's life,

Expose the Christians, and betray you all.
Zara. You do not know the noble heart of
Osman.

Sel. I know him the protector of a faith,
in enemy to ours: the more he loves,
less will be permit you to profess

Osman. Rise!

What! is it love to force yourself to wound
The heart you wish to gladden? But I find
Lovers least know themselves; for I believ'd
That I had taken back the power I gave you;
Yet see! you did but weep, and have resum'd
me!

Proud as I am, I must confess one wish
Evades my power-the blessing to forget you.
Zara, thy tears were form'd to teach disdain,
That softness can disarm it. 'Tis decreed,
I must for ever love; but from what cause,
If thy consenting heart partakes my fires,
Art thou reluctant to a blessing meant me?
Speak! is it artifice?

O! spare the needless pains: art was not made
For Zara. Art, however innocent,
Looks like deceiving; I abhorr'd it ever.

Zara. Alas! I have no art; not even enough| To hide this love, and this distress you give me. Osman. New riddles! Speak with plainness to my soul;

What canst thou mean?

Zara. I have no power to speak it,
Osman. Is it some secret dangerous to my
state?

Is it some Christian plot grown ripe against me?
Zara. Lives there a wretch so vile as to
betray you?
Osman is bless'd beyond the reach of fear:
Fears and misfortunes threaten only Zara.
Osman. Why threaten Zara?
Zara. Permit me at your feet,
Thus trembling, to beseech a favour from you.
Osman. A favour! Oh, you guide the will

of Osman.

Zara. Ah! would to heav'n our duties were united:

But this day,

But this one sad, unhappy day, permit me,
Alone, and far divided from your eye,
To cover my distress, lest you, too tender,
Should see and share it with me: from to-
morrow

I will not have a thought conceal'd from you. Osman. If it must be, it must. Be pleas'd, my will

Takes purpose from your wishes; and consent
Depends not on my choice, but your decree:
Go; but remember how he loves, who thus
Finds a delight in pain, because you give it.
Zara. It gives me more than pain to make
you feel it.

Osman. And can you, Zara, leave me?
Zara. Alas, my lord.
[Exit.
Osman. It should be yet, methinks, too soon
to fly me;

Too soon, as yet, to wrong my easy faith.
The more I think, the less I can conceive
What hidden cause should raise such strange

despair!

Osman. Be as 'twill, it shall be read. [Opens the Letter. Fate, be thy call obey'd.-Orasmin, mark— Hell! tortures! death! and woman!-What, Orasmin,

Are we awake?-Heard'st thou?-Can this be Zara?

Oras. Would I had lost all sense! for what
I heard

Has cover'd my afflicted heart with horror.
Osman. Thou seest how I am treated.
Oras. Monstrous treason!

To an affront like this you cannot, must not,
Remain insensible. You, who but now,
From the most slight suspicion, felt such pain,
Must, in the horror of so black a guilt,
Find an effectual cure, and banish love.

Osman. Seek her this instant-go, Orasmin,

fly!

Show her this letter: bid her read and tremble:
Then, in the rising horrors of her guilt,
Stab her unfaithful breast, and let her die.
Say, while thou strik'st-Stay, stay, return
and pity me.

Would I were dead!

Would I had died, unconscious of this shame Oras. Never did prince receive so bold

Now, when her hopes have wings, and every This fountain of her tears, which my wea

wish

Is courted to be lively! When I love,
And joy and empire press her to their bosom;
To see her eyes through tears shine mystic love!
Yet, was I blameless? No-I was too rash;
I have felt jealousy, and spoke it to her;
I have distrusted her-and still she loves:
Gen'rous atonement that!-I remark'd,
Ev'n while she wept, her soul a thousand times
Sprung to her lips, and long'd to leap to mine,
With honest, ardent utt'rance of her love.
Who can possess a heart so low, so base,
To look such tenderness, and yet have none?

Enter MELIDOR, with ORASMIN.
Mel. This letter, great disposer of the world!
Address'd to Zara, and in private brought,

What will they all produce but Zara's tears, Had I not seen, had I not read, such proof
To quench this fancied anger? Your lost heart, Of her light falsehood as extinguish'd doubt,
Seduc'd against itself, will search but reasons I could not be a man, and not believe her.
To justify the guilt which gives it pain: Zara. Alas, my lord! what cruel fears have
Rather conceal from Zara this discovery;
seiz'd you?
And let some trusty slave convey the letter,
Re-clos'd to her own hand: then shall you
learn,

Spite of her frauds, disguise, and artifice,
The firmness, or abasement of her soul.

Osman. Thy counsel charms me! We'll
about it now.

Here, take this fatal letter; choose a slave Whom yet she never saw, and who retains His tried fidelity-dispatch-be gone.

[Exit Orasmin. Now whither shall I turn my eyes and steps The surest way to shun her, and give time For this discovering trial?—Heaven! she's here! Re-enter ZARA.

So, madam! fortune will befriend my cause,
And free me from your fetters.-You are met
Most aptly, to dispel a new-ris'n doubt,
That claims the finest of your arts to gloss it.
Unhappy each by other, it is time

To end our mutual pain, that both may rest.
You want not generosity, but love;
My pride forgotten, my obtruded throne,
My favours, cares, respect, and tenderness,
Touching your gratitude, provok'd regard;
Tul, by a length of benefits besieg'd,
Your heart submitted, and you thought 'twas

love:

But you deceiv'd yourself, and injur'd me. There is, I'm told, an object more deserving Your love than Osman: I would know his

name.

Be just, nor trifle with my anger: tell me Now, while expiring pity struggles faint; Wale I have yet, perhaps, the power to pardon, bive up the bold invader of my claim, And let him die to save thee. Thou art known. Think and resolve. While I yet speak, renounce him;

While yet the thunder rolls suspended, stay it; Let thy voice charm me, and recall my soul, 1:at turns averse, and dwells no more on Zara. Zara. Can it be Osman speaks, and speaks to Zara?

Learn, cruel! learn that this afflicted heart, This beart which heaven delights to prove by

What harsh, mysterious words were those I heard?

Osman. What fears should Osman feel, since Zara loves him?

Zara. I cannot live, and answer to your voice

In that reproachful tone; your angry eye
Trembles with fury while you talk of love.
Osman. Since Zara loves him!
Zara. Is it possible

Osman should disbelieve it?-Again, again
Your late repented violence returns.
Alas! what killing frowns you dart against me!
Can it be kind, can it be just to doubt me?
Osman. No! I can doubt no longer.- You
may retire.
[Exit Zara.

Re-enter ORASMIN. Orasmin, she's perfidious, even beyond Her sex's undiscover'd power of seeming. Say, hast thou chosen a slave?-Is he instructed?

Haste to detect her vileness and my wrongs. Oras. Punctually I have obey'd your whole command:

But have you arm'd, my lord, your injur'd heart,

With coldness and indifference? Can you hear, All painless and unmov'd, the false one's shame? Ösman. Orasmin, I adore her more than

ever.

Oras. My lord! my emperor! forbid it, heaven!

Osman. I have discern'd a gleam of distant hope.

Now hear me with attention.-Soon as night Has thrown her welcome shadows o'er the palace;

When this Nerestan, this ungrateful Christian,
Shall lurk in expectation near our walls,
Be watchful that our guards surprise and seize
him;

Then, bound in fetters and o'erwhelm'd with shame,

Conduct the daring traitor to my presence: But, above all, be sure you hurt not Zara; Mindful to what supreme excess I love.

[Exit Orasmin.

On this last trial all my hopes depend. Prophet, for once thy kind assistance lend, Dispel the doubts that rack my anxious breast: If Zara's innocent, thy Osman's bless'd. [Exit.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-Enter ZARA and SELIMA. Zara, Sooth me no longer with this vain desire;

To a recluse like me, who dares henceforth
Presume admission!-The seraglio is shut;
Barr'd and impassable, as death to time!
My brother ne'er must hope to see me more.-
How now! what unknown slave accosts us
here?

Enter MELidor.

Mel. This letter, trusted to my hands, re

ceive,

Enter OSMAN and ORASMIN. Osman. Swifter, ye hours, move on; my fury glows

Impatient, and would push the wheels of time. How now? What message dost thou bring? Speak boldly. [Aside. What answer gave she to the letter sent her? Mel. She blush'd, and trembled, and grew pale, and paus'd;

Zura. I wish, my friend, the comfort of your counsel. Sel. Retire-you shall be call'd-wait near -go, leave us. [Exit Melidor. Zara. Read this, and tell me what I ought

to answer:

For I would gladly hear my brother's voice. Sel. Say rather you would hear the voice of heaven.

'Tis not your brother calls you, but your God. Zara. I know it, nor resist his awful will; Thou know'st that I have bound my soul by oath;

But can I, ought I, to engage myself,
My brother, and the Christians, in this danger?
Sel. 'Tis not their danger that alarms your
fears;

Your love speaks loudest to your shrinking soul.
This tiger, savage in his tenderness,
Courts with contempt, and threatens amidst
softness;

Yet cannot your neglected heart efface
His fated, fix'd impression!

Zara. What reproach

Can I with justice make him?-I indeed
Have given him cause to hate me!
Was not his throne, was not his temple ready?
Did he not court his slave to be a queen,
And have not I declin'd it?-I who ought
To tremble, conscious of affronted power!
Have not I triumph'd o'er his pride and love?
Seen him submit his own high will to mine,
And sacrifice his wishes to my weakness?
Sel. Talk we no more of this unhappy pas-
sion:

What resolution will your virtue take?
Zara. All things combine to sink me to
despair:

From the seraglio death alone will free me.
I long to see the Christians' happy climes;
Yet in the moment while I form that prayer,
I sigh a secret wish to languish here.
How sad a state is mine! my restless' soul
All ignorant what to do, or what to wish:
My only perfect sense is that of pain.
Oh, guardian heaven! protect my brother's life,
For I will meet him, and fulfil his
prayer:
Then, when from Solyma's unfriendly walls,
His absence shall unbind his sister's tongue,
Osman shall learn the secret of my birth,
My faith unshaken, and my deathless love;
He will approve my choice, and pity me.
I'll send my brother word he may expect me.
Call in the faithful slave. God of my fathers!
[Exit Selima.
Let thy hand save me, and thy will direct.

Then blush'd, and read it, and again grew pale; And wept, and smil'd, and doubted, and resolv'd:

For after all this race of varied passions, When she had sent me out, and call'd me back,

Tell him (she cried) who has intrusted thee, That Zara's heart is fix'd, nor shrinks at danger; And that my faithful friend will, at the hour, Expect and introduce him to his wish.

Osman. Enough; be gone! I have no ear for more. [To the Slave. Leave me, thou too, Orasmin. Leave me, life, For ev'ry mortal aspect moves my hate:

[To Orasmin. Leave me to my distraction, [Exit Orasmin. Who am I? Heav'n! Who am I? What resolve I?

Zara! Nerestan! sound these words like names Decreed to join? Why pause I? Perish ZaraWould I could tear her image from my heart.

To what excess of tenderness I lov'd her:
I knew no happiness but what she gave m
Nor could have felt a mis'ry but for her!
Pity this weakness-mine are tears, Orasm
That fall not oft, nor lightly.

Oras. Tears! Oh, heaven!

Re-enter MELIDOR, with SELIMA. Go-tell the Christian who intrusted thee, That Zara's heart is fix'd, nor shrinks at danger; And that my faithful friend will, at the hour, Expect and introduce him to his wish. Away-the sultan comes; he must not find us. [Exeunt Zarn and Selima. At my revenge too, tremble-for 'tis due,

Oh, my unhappy lord! I tremble for youOsman. Do-tremble at my sufferings, my love;

And will not be deluded.

Oras. Hark! I hear

The steps of men along the neighb'ring wall! Osman. Fly! seize him! 'tis Nerestan! Wait no chains,

But drag him down to my impatient eye.

[Exit Oras.

Osman. Dost thou behold her, slave?
Ner. Unhappy sister!

Osman. Sister! Didst thou say sister? If thou didst,

Bless me with deafness, heaven!

Ner. Tyrant! I did.

She was my sister. All that now is left thee,
Dispatch-From my distracted heart drain next
The remnant of the royal Christian blood!

Enter ZARA and SELIMA, in the dark.
Zara Where art thou, Selima? Give me Old Lusignan, expiring in my arms,
thy hand.
Sent his too wretched son, with his last bless-
ing,

known sound

It is so dark, I tremble as I step,
With fears and startings, never felt till now! To his now murder'd daughter!
Osman. Damnation! 'tis her voice! the well-Would I had seen the bleeding innocent!
I would have liv'd to speak to her in death;
That has so often charm'd me into baseness! Would have awaken'd in her languid heart
[Draws a Dagger. A livelier sense of her abandon'd God;
Revenge, stand firm, and intercept his wishes! That God, who left by her, forsook her too,
Revenge! On whom? No matter: earth and And gave the poor lost sufferer to thy rage.
Osman. Thy sister! Lusignan her father!
Selima!

heaven

Would blush, should I forbear: now, Zara, now! [Drops the Dagger. I must not, cannot strike, the starting steel, Unwilling, flies my hand, and shuns to wound her.

Zara. This is the private path; come near-
er, lead me.

Are we not notic'd, think'st thou?
Sel. Fear not, madam;

It cannot now be long, ere we shall meet him.
Osman. That word has given me back my
ebbing rage.
[Recovers the Dagger.
Zara. I walk in terror, and my heart fore-
bodes.

come

There now remains but mine of all the blood, Which through thy father's cruel reign and thine,

Has never ceas'd to stream on Syria's sands. Who's there? Nerestan! Is it you? O wel-Restore a wretch to his unhappy race; Nor hope that torments, after such a scene, Osman. [Stabs her.] This to thy heart. Can force one feeble groan to feast thy anger. 'Tis not the traitor meets thee, I waste my fruitless words in empty air; The tyrant, o'er the bleeding wound he made, Hangs his unmoving eye, and heeds not me. Osman. Oh, Zara!

Tis the betray'd, who writes it in thy blood. Zara. Oh, gracious heaven! receive my parting soul,

And take thy trembling servant to thy mercy. [Dies.

Oras. Alas, my lord, return! Whither would

grief

Osman. Soul! then revenge has reach'd Transport your gen'rous heart? This Christian

thee. I will now

Hlaste from this fatal place: I cannot leave her!
Whom did I strike? Was this the act of love?
Sedlow me, earth! She's silent! Zara's dead!
tre should I live to see returning day,
Twill show me but her blood! show me left
joyless,

In a wide, empty world, with nothing round

me,

But penitence and pain: and yet 'twas just.
Hark Destiny has sent her lover to me,
To fill my vengeance, and restore my joy.

Re-enter ORASMIN, with NERESTAN Approach, thou wretch! thou more than curs'd! come near!

Thou who, in gratitude for freedom gain'd,
Hast giv'n me miseries beyond thy own!
Trou heart of hero with a traitor's soul!
Are my commands obey'd?

Oras. All is prepar'd.

dog

Osman. Take off his fetters, and observe
my will:

To him and all his friends, give instant liberty:
Pour a profusion of the richest gifts
On these unhappy Christians; and when heap'd
With vary'd benefits, and charg'd with riches,
Give 'em safe conduct to the nearest port.
Oras. But, sir -

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Thy miseries, shall mourn 'em with their tears; Osman. Thy wanton eyes look round in But, if thou tell'st 'em mine, and tell'st 'em search of her

hose love, descending to a slave like thee, - my dishonour'd hand receiv'd her doom. 'where she lies

Ner. Ob, fatal, rash mistake!

truly,

They who shall hate my crime, shall pity me.
Take too, this poniard with thee, which my

hand

Has stain'd with blood far dearer than my own;

« Eelmine Jätka »

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