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Yet hold; where is my husband-my Sifroy? To die, my faithful love, and spotless truth
(Swoons. Let me but take his blessings up to heaven, Beauf. sen. Alas, she faints !-_I fear the hand and I shall go with confidence. of death
Beauf. sen. My child-Is falling on her. Gently bear her up.
My darling child !--May that pure bliss, just heaSif. O God! my heartMy heart-strings break !-Did not her dying Bestows upon departed saints, be thine ! words
Cle. Farewell, my brother! comfort and supDwell on my name? Did not her latest sigh
port Breathe tenderness for me?-for me, the wretch, Our father's feeble age---To heal his grief Whose rash suspicion, whose intemperate rage, Will give thy sister's dying moments ease. Abandon'd her to shame!-Ha! gracious Hea- Sif. Talk not of death .--.We must not, must ven!
not part ! Does she not move? Does not returning light Good Heaven, her dying agonies approach. Dawn in her feeble eye? Her opening lips Cle. The keenest pang of death, is that I feel Breathe the sweet hope of life.
For thy surviving woe. Adieu, my love! Cle. Where have I been ?
I do entreat thee with my last, last breath, What dreadful dreams have floated in my brain ! Restrain thy tears--nor let me grieve to think Beauf. sen. How fares my child?
Thou feelst a pain I cannot live to cure. Cle. O faint! exceeding faint !
Sif. Might'st thou but live, how light were My father !—my dear father !Do I wake? And am I, am I in a father's arms ?
Fate could inflict ! My brother too ! O happy!
Cle. It will not be! I faintBeauf: jun. My dear sister !
My spirits fail-farewell-receive me, Heaven. Sif. Transporting rapture ! Will my love return
(Dies. To life, to reason too? indulgent Power!
Sif. She's gone!-for ever gon !--Those Cle. What sound, what well-known voice is lovely eyes that I hear!
Are clos'd in death--no more to look on me! Support me, raise me to his long-lost arms! My fate is fix'd, and in this tortur'd breast It is my husband ! my Sifroy ! my love! Anguish--remorse-despair--must ever dwell. Alas, too faint-I never more shall rise.
Beauf. sen. Offended power, at length with Sif. Ah! do not wound me, do not pierce my
pitying eyes heart
Look on our misery! Cut short this thread, With any thought so dreadful. Art thou given That links my soul too long to wretched life! In mockery only to my longing arms ?
And let mankind, taught by his hapless fate, Raise up thy head, my love, lean on my breast, Learn one great truth, experience finds too late; And whisper to my soul thou wilt not die. That dreadful ills from rash resentment flow, Cle. How thy sweet accents sooth the pangs And sudden passions end in lasting woe. of death!
(Exeunt. Witness, ye angels, thus in thy dear arms
WELL, ladies---so much for the tragic stile.-
smile. " To make us smile, I hear Flippanta say, " Ycs-we have smil'd indeed through half the
play : “We always laugh when bards, demure and sly, " Bestow such mighty pains--to make us cry. " And truly, to bring sorrow to a crisis, Mad-folks, and murder'd babes are-shrew'd
“ The captain gone three years--and then to
blame “ The vestal conduct of his virtuous dame! “ What French, what English bride would think
it treason, “When thus accus'd--to give the brute some
reason? “ Out of my house-this night, forsooth-depart! “ A modern wife had said With all my heart : “ But think not, haughty sir, I'll go alone,
“ Order your coach-conduct me safe to town- Nor took the airs of Amazons for graces! “Give me my jewels-wardrobe and my maid, When plain domestic virtues were the mode, “ And pray take care my pin-money be paid : And wives ne'er dreamt of happiness abroad, “ Else know, I wield a pen-and, for his glory, But cheer'd their offspring, shunn’d fantastic airs, “ My dear's domestic feats may shine in story! And, with the joys of wedlock, mixt the cares.
“ 'Then for the child-the tale was truly sad- Such modes are past-yet sure they merit “But who for such a bantling would run mad? praise; “ What wife, at midnight hour inclin’d to roam, For marriage triumph'd in those wasse days: “ Would fondly drag her little chit from home? No virgin sigh'd in vain, no fears arose, “ What has a mother with her child to do? Lest holy wars should cause a dearth of beaux: “ Dear brats—the nursery's the place for you." By chaste decorum, each affection gain'd;
Such are the strains of many a modish fair ! By faith and fondness, what she won, maintain'd. Yet memoires--not of modern growth-declare 'Tis yours, ye fair! to mend a thoughtless age, The time has been, when modesty and truth That scorns the press, the pulpit, and the stage. Were deem'd additions to the charms of youth; | To yield frail husbands no pretence to stray, Ere, in the dice-box, ladies found delight, (Men will be rakes, if women lead the way.) Or swoon’d, for lack of cards, on Sunday-night ; To sooth--But truce with these preceptive lays ! When women hid their necks, and veil'd their The muse, who, dazzled with your ancient praise, face On present worth, and modern beauty tramples
, Nor romp’d, nor rak’d, nor star'd, at public Must own, she ne'er could boast more bright er: places:
* Addressing the Boxes.
ENOUGH of Greece and Rome. The exhausted
store, Of either nation, now can charm no more: Even adventitious helps in vain we try, Our triumphs languish in the public eye; And grave processions, musically slow, Here pass unheeded—as a Lord Mayor's shew.
On eagle wings, the poet of to-night, Soars for fresh virtues to the source of light, To China's eastern realms; and boldly bears Confucius' morals to Britannia's ears. Accept th' imported boon, as echoing Greece Received from wand'ring chiefs her golden fleece; Nor only richer by the spoils become, But praise th’advent'rous youth who brings them
home. One dubious character, we own, he draws, A patriot, zealous in a monarch’s cause!
Vice is the task the varying hand to guide,
vade Each other's bounds, and mingle light with shade
If then, assiduous to obtain his end, You find too far the subject's zeal extend; If undistinguished loyalty prevails, Where nature shrinks, and strong affection fails, On China's tenets charge the fond mistake, And spare his error for his virtue's sake.
From noble motives our allegiance springs, For Britain knows no right divine in kings. From Freedom's choice that boasted right arose, And through each line from Freedom's choice it
flows. Justice, with mercy joined, the throne maintains; And in his people's hearts, our monarch reigns.
Man. Oh! there—there lies the thought
At which imagination starts, appalled
With horror at the scene her busy workings Man. No, never ; Mirvan, never-still this Have coloured to my sight--there lies the heart
thought Must throb with ceaseless woe- -All-gracious That wakens all a mother's fears--alas! Heaven !
I tremble for my son! Will not this palace, drenched in gore; the crown Mir. Your son-kind Heaven! Of China's kings fixed on the Tartar's brow; Have you not check'd his ardour - with you Will not a track of twenty years in bondage ;
tears, Ah! will not these suffice, without a fresh cause Your soft authority, restrained the hero Of bitter anguish in Mandane's breast?
- From the alarms of war? Mir. Better suppress these unavailing tears, Man. Alas, good Mirvan, This fruitless flood of grief,
Thou little know'st his danger !—but that truth Man. It will not be
Must never pass these lips. Even 'midst the horrors of this dismal hour, Mir. I hope, Mandane When fate has all transferred from lost Cathai Doubts not my honest zeal—full well you know To vile barbarian hands;-in such an hour, I bear this tyrant deep and mortal hate; This heart, revolting from the public cause, That under him I list, and wear this garb, Bleeds from a private source; bleeds for the In hopes that some occasion may arrive, woes
When I may strike an unexpected blow, That hang o'er Zamti's house.
And do my country right. Mir. Alas! Mandane,
Man. Thy loyalty, Amidst the general wreck who does not feel Thy truth and honour have been ever spotless. The keen domestic pang?
Besides thy wrongs, thy countless wrongs, the Man. Yes, all. We all
wounds Must feel the kindred-touch; daily the cries He gave your injured family and nameOf widows, orphans, father, son, and brother, Mir. Alas! those wounds must still lie bleedIn vain are sent to heaven ;-the wasteful rage
ing here, Of these barbarians—these accursed invaders, Untented by the hand of time-Not all Burns with increasing fire ;-the thunder still His lenient arts, his favours beaped upon me, Rolls o'er our heads, threatening with hideous Shall cool the burning anguish of my soul. crash
What! he that slew my father !---dragged my To fall at once, and bury us in ruin.
sister, Mir. And quickly fall it must !-the hand of Blooming in years, to his detested bed !-heaven
Yes, tyrant, yes:--thy unextinguished foe Weighs this great empire down.
Dwells in this bosom. Surely, then, to me Mar. Nay, tax not Heaven!
Mandane may reveal her griefs—ber wrongs Almighty Justice never bares its arm
Will add new fuel to my hidden fires, 'Gainst innocence and truth. 'Tis Timurkan, And make them burn more fiercely. That fell barbarian-that insatiate waster
Man. Urge no more May curses blast the Tartar!-he-'Tis he
My woes must rest concealed. Yet should the Has boredown all, and still his slaughtering sword, tyrant In yonder field of death, where Corea's troops Learn from the captives of yon vanquished host, Made their last stand for liberty and China, That China's orphan breathes the vital air, Crimsons the land with blood. This battle lost, And, to himself unknown, within his breast Oh! then farewell to all But, Mirvan, say, Unconscious bears the generous glowing fiame How came the tidings ?
Of all the virtues of his royal line; Mir. From yon lofty tower,
Oh! should they know that the dear youtlı As my eyes, straining toward the distant plain,
survives, Sent forth an anxious look, through clouds of That for his righteous cause this war began, dust
Their fury then would kindle to a blaze,
Mir. Seek not thus
Hath still deceived suspicion's wakeful eye;
And o'er the Mandarin, his manners pure, More fatal e'en than that, which first beheld
Which saw this city sacked-fresh stream my eyes, That the fierce Scythian rests upon
spear, Fresh bleeds my heart, whene'er the sad idea And wonders what he feels! Such is the charm Comes o'er my tortured mind. Why, cruel Of heart-felt virtue; such is nature's force
Powers! That speaks abroad, and in rude northern hearts Why in that moment could not Zamti fall ! Can stamp the image of an awful God.
Alan. Thy sanctity, the symbol of thy God, From that source springs some hope :-Wretch Made even the conqueror suspend his blow, that I am !
And murmur soft humanity. High Heaven Hope idly flutters on my trembling tongue,
Protected thee for its own great designs ; While melancholy, brooding o'er her wrongs, To save the royal child, the new-born babe, Lays waste the mind with horror and despair. From the dire slaughter of his ancient line. - What noise is that?
Zamti. Yes, my Mandane, in that hour of carMir. Compose this storm of grief;
nage, In every sound your fancy hears the Tartar- For purposes yet in the womb of time, Your husband this way bends
I was reserved. I was ordained to save Man. Celestial Powers !
The infant boy; the dear, the precious charge, What labouring sighs heave in his breast?-what The last of all my kings :-full twenty years terror
I've hid him from the world, and froin himself; Rolls in the patriot's eye?-haste, Mirvan, hence; And now I swear- -Kneel we together here; Again look out; gather the flying news,
While in this dreadful pause our souls renew And let me know each circumstance of ruin.
Their solemn purpose.
(Both kneel. [Exit MIRVAN. Thou all-gracious Being,
Whose tutelary care hath watched the fate
Of China's Orphan, who hast taught his steps Man. Zamti !
The paths of safety, still envelop him Zumti. Mandane!
In sevenfold night, till your own hour is come; Mun. Ah! what hast thou seen?
Till your slow justice see the dread occasion What hast thou heard?- Tell me-- has fate To rouse his soul, and bid him walk abroad, decreed
Vicegerent of your power ;-and if thy servant, The doom of China ?
Or this his soft associate, e'er defeat Zamti. China is no more!
By any word or deed the great design, The eastern world is lost---this mighty empire
Then straight may your horrible displeasure Falls with the universe beneath the stroke Be launched upon us from your red right arm, Of savage force---falls from its towering hopes; And in one ruin dash us both together, For ever, ever fallen !
The blasted monuments of wrath! Man. Yet, why, ye Powers !
Man. That here Why should a tyrant, trained to lust and murder,
Mandane vows ne'er to betray his cause, A lawless ravager from savage wilds,
Be it enrolled in the records of Heaven! Where cheerful day ne'er dawns, but lowering
(Both rise. heaven
Zamti. And now my heart more lightly beats; For ever rolls a turbulence of clouds;
methinks, Why should a monster thus usurp the world, With strength redoubled I can meet the shock And trample fair simplicity from ill
Of adverse fate. Bencath his ruffian feet?
Man. And lo! the trial comesZamti. Far hence, Mandane,
For see where Etan mourns- -See where the Those happy days, alas! are fled, when peace
youth, Here nursed her blooming olives, and shed round Unknowing of the storm that gathers o'er him, Her fostering influence.--In vain the plan Brings some new tale of woe. Of sacred laws, by hoary elders taught, Laws founded on the base of public weal,
Enter ETAN. Gave lessons to the world. In vain Confucius Elan. My honoured father, Unlocked his radiant stores of moral truth; And you, my helpless mother,-ah! where now, In vain bright science, and each tender muse, Illustrious wretched pair, where will ye fly? Beamed every elegance on polished life- Where will your miseries now find a shelter ? Barbarian power prevails. Whate'er our sages
Zamti. In virtuel and this dear faithful Or genius could inspire, must fade away,
We ask no more.
Man. Ah ! quickly, Etan, say
Of northern domination
Mun. Fatal day!