Seize, bind me, drag me to the bloody bar!
Accuse, condemn me; let the sentence reach
My hated life- -No matter how it comes;

I'll think it just, and thank you as it falls.
Self-murder is denied me; else how soon
Could I be past the pain of my remembrance!
But I must live, grow grey with lingering grief,
To die at last in telling this sad tale.

C. Bald. Poor wretched orphan of most wretched parents!

'Scaping the storm, thou'rt thrown upon a rock, To perish there. The very rocks would melt, Soften their nature, sure, to foster thee;

I find it by myself: my flinty heart,
That barren rock, on which thy father starved,
Opens its springs of nourishment to thee.
There's not a vein but shall run milk for thee.
Oh, had I pardoned my poor Biron's fault,
His first, his only fault-this had not been!
To erring youth there's some compassion due;
But while with rigour you their crimes pursue,
What's their misfortune, is a crime for you.
Hence, learn offending children to forgive:
Leave punishment to Heaven-'tis Heaven's pre-
rogative.

VOL. I.

5 B

Almighty Justice never bares its arm
'Gainst innocence and truth. 'Tis Timurkan,
That fell barbarian-that insatiate waster-
May curses blast the Tartar!-he-'Tis he
Has bore down all, and still his slaughtering sword,
In yonder field of death, where Corea's troops
Made their last stand for liberty and China,
Crimsons the land with blood. This battle lost,
Oh! then farewell to all!-But, Mirvan, say,
How came the tidings?

Mir. From yon lofty tower,

As my eyes, straining toward the distant plain, Sent forth an anxious look, through clouds of dust

The savage bands appeared; the western sun Gleamed on their burnished helms; and soon a shout

proach

Of Timurkan :-elated with new conquest,
The tyrant comes, and where his wrath will stop
Heav'n only knows!-

Man. Oh! there—there lies the thought
At which imagination starts, appalled
With horror at the scene her busy workings

Have coloured to my sight-there lies the thought

That wakens all a mother's fears-alas!

I tremble for my son!

Mir. Your son-kind Heaven!

Hath still deceived suspicion's wakeful eye;
And o'er the Mandarin his manners pure,
And sacred function, have diffused an air
Of venerable awe, which e'en can teach
These northern foes to soften into men.
Man. Yes, Mirvan, yes-Religion wears a

mien

From that source springs some hope :-Wretch that I am!

Hope idly flutters on my trembling tongue,
While melancholy, brooding o'er her wrongs,
Lays waste the mind with horror and despair.
-What noise is that?-

Mir. Compose this storm of grief;

In every sound your fancy hears the Tartar-
Your husband this way bends-

Man. Celestial Powers!

Man. Ah! what hast thou seen?

What hast thou heard?-Tell me-has fate decreed The doom of China?

Zamti. China is no more!

The eastern world is lost-this mighty empire
Falls with the universe beneath the stroke
Of savage force-falls from it's towering hopes;
For ever, ever fallen!

Man. Yet, why, ye Powers!

heaven

For ever rolls a turbulence of clouds;
Why should a monster thus usurp the world,
And trample fair simplicity from ill
Beneath his ruffian feet?-

Zamti. Far hence, Mandane,

Those happy days, alas! are fled, when peace
Here nursed her blooming olives, and shed round
Her fostering influence.-In vain the plan
Of sacred laws, by hoary elders taught,
Laws founded on the base of public weal,
Gave lessons to the world. In vain Confucius
Unlocked his radiant stores of moral truth;
In vain bright science, and each tender muse,
Beamed every elegance on polished life-
Barbarian power prevails. Whate'er our sages
taught,

Or genius could inspire, must fade away,
And each fair virtue wither at the blast
Of northern domination.

Man. Fatal day!

More fatal e'en than that, which first beheld
This race accursed wishin these palace walls.
Since hope, that balm of wretched minds, is now
Irrevocably lost.

Zamti. Name not the day,

Which saw this city sacked-fresh stream my eyes, Fresh bleeds my heart, whene'er the sad idea Comes o'er my tortured mind. Why, cruel Powers!

Why in that moment could not Zamti fall?

Man. Thy sanctity, the symbol of thy God, Made even the conqueror suspend his blow, And murmur soft humanity. High Heaven Protected thee for its own great designs; To save the royal child, the new-born babe, From the dire slaughter of his ancient line.

Man. That here

Mandane vows ne'er to betray his cause,
Be it enrolled in the records of Heaven!

[Both rise. Zamti. And now my heart more lightly beats; methinks,

With strength redoubled I can meet the shock Of adverse fate.

Man. And lo! the trial comes

For see where Etan mourns- -See where the

youth, Unknowing of the storm that gathers o'er him, Brings some new tale of woe.

Enter ETAN.

Etan. My honoured father,

And you, my helpless mother,-ah! where now, Illustrious wretched pair, where will ye fly? Where will your miseries now find a shelter? Zamti. In virtue-I and this dear faithful

woman

We ask no more.

Man. Ah! quickly, Etan, say What means that pallid look? What new event Brings on the work of fate?

Zumti. Say, does the tyrant
Return, unglutted yet with blood?
Etan. He does.

Even now his triumph moves within the gates,
In dread barbaric pomp:—the iron swarms
Of Hyperboreans troop along the streets,
Reeking from slaughter; while from gazing

crowds

carnage,

For purposes yet in the womb of time,

I was reserved. I was ordained to save
The infant boy; the dear, the precious charge,
The last of all my kings-full twenty years
I've hid him from the world, and from himself;
And now I swear- -Kneel we together here;
While in this dreadful pause our souls renew
Their solemn purpose.-
[Both kneel.
Thou all-gracious Being,
Whose tutelary care hath watched the fate
Of China's Orphan, who hast taught his steps
The paths of safety, still envelop him

In sevenfold night, till your own hour is come;
Till your slow justice see the dread occasion
To rouse his soul, and bid him walk abroad,
Vicegerent of your power;-and if thy servant,
Or this his soft associate, e'er defeat
By any word or deed the great design,
Then straight may all your horrible displeasure
Be launched upon us from your red right arm,

Display their honest scars, and gnash their teeth With rage and desperation.

Man. Cruel fate!

Etan. With these a youth, distinguished from

the rest,

Proceeds in sullen march. Heroic fire
Glows in his cheek, and from his ardent eye
Beams amiable horror.

Man. What of this youth?

Zamti. Be not alarmed, Mandane—What of

him?

Etan. On him all eyes were fixed with eager

gaze,

As if their spirits, struggling to come forth, Would strain each visual nerve-while through

the crowd

A busy murmur ran-If fame say right, 'Beneath that habit lurks a prince; the last 'Of China's race.' The rumour spreads abroad From man to man; and all with loud acclaim Denounce their vengeance on him.

Man. Ha! what say'st thou, Etan?

By any virtuous fraud to veil the truth,

Zamti. Loved Mandane,

I prithee leave me--but a moment leave me. Heed not the workings of a sickly fancy, Wrought on by every popular report.

Again shall quaff the blood of innocence;
And, for Zaphimri, all the poor remains
Of China's matrons, and her hoary sires,
Her blooming virgins, and her lisping babes,
Shall yield their throats to the fell murderer's
knife,

And all be lost for ever!

Etan. Then at once

Proclaim him to the world; each honest hand Will grasp a sword, and, 'midst the circling guards,

I see the impending storm. But surely, sir, Should this young captive prove the royal orphan, You'll never own the important truth.

Zamti. Dream not, young man,
To stand secure, yet blooming into life,
While vengeance hovers o'er your father's head.
The stock once fallen, each scyon must decay.
Etan. Then let me perish!-Witness for me,
Heaven,

Could Etan's fall appease the tyrant's wrath,
A willing victim he would yield his life,
And ask no greater boon of Heaven.

Zamti. This zeal,

So fervid in a stranger's cause

Etan. A stranger!—he !—

My king a stranger!-Sir, you never meant it-
Perhaps you would explore the fiery seeds
Of Etan's temper, ever prompt to blaze
At honour's sacred name. Perish the man,
Who, when his country calls him to defend
The rights of human kind, or bravely die,
Who, then, to glory dead, can shrink aghast,
And hold a council with his abject fears!
Zamti. These towerings of the soul, alas! are

vain.

I know the Tartar well-should I attempt

Should overwhelming bands obstruct the deed,
They'll greatly dare to die!-better to die
With falling liberty, than basely lead
An ignominious life. Zaphimri lost,

Ne'er shall fair order dawn; but through the land

Slavery shall clank her chains, and violation,
Rapine, and murder, riot at the will
Of lust and lawless power.

Zamti. Thou brave young man,

Indulge my fond embrace-thy lovely ardour
It glads me thus to see!-To ease at once
Thy generous fears-the prince Zaphimri's safe;
Safe in my guardian care.

Etan. The prisoner, sir,
He does not then alarm you?
Zamti. No! from thence
I've nought to fear.

Etan. Oh! sir, inform your son
Where is the royal heir?

Zamti. Seek not too soon

To know that truth-now I'll disclose the work,
The work of vengeance, which my labouring soul
Has long been fashioning. Even at this hour
Stupendous ruin hovers o'er the heads
Of this accursed race.

Etan. Ruin!

Zamti. I'll tell theeWhen Timurkan led forth his savage bands, Unpeopling this great city, I then seized The hour, to tamper with a chosen few, Who have resolved, when the barbarians lie Buried in sleep and wine, and hotly dream Their havock o'er again-then, then, my son, In one collected blow to burst upon them; Like their own northern clouds, whose midnight horror

Impending o'er the world, at length breaks forth In the vaunt lightning's blaze, in storms and thunder

Through all the reddening air, till frighted nature
Start from her couch, and waken to a scene
Of uproar and destruction.

Etan. Oh! my father,
The glorious enterprize!

Zumti. Mark me, young man.

Seek thou my friends, Orasming and Zimventi: In the dim holy cloisters of yon temple