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greatly,

Does greatly.

Bar. Yet bethink thee stubborn boy, What horrors now surround thee

Selim. Think'st thou, tyrant,

I came so ill prepar'd? Thy rage is weak,
Thy torments powerless o'er the steady mind:
He, who can bravely dare, can bravely suffer.
Bar. Yet lo, I come, by pity led, to spare thee.
Relent, and save Zaphira!-For the bell
Even now expects the sentinel, to toll
The signal of thy death.

Selim. Let guilt like thine

Tremble at death: I scorn its darkest frown.
Hence, tyrant, nor profane my dying hour!
Bar. Then take thy wish.

There goes the fatal knell.

Pour all your torments.-How shall I approach thee!

Selim. These are thy father's gifts!-Yet thou

art guiltless:

Then let me take thee to my heart, thou best
Most amiable of women!

Irene. Rather curse me,

As the betrayer of thy virtue!
Selim. Ah!

Irene. 'Twas I,—my fears, my frantic fears be-
tray'd thee!

Thus, falling at thy feet, may I but hope
For pardon ere I die!

Selim. Hence to thy father!

Irene. Never, O never!-crawling in the dust,
I'll clasp thy feet, and bathe them with my tears!
Tread me to earth! I never will complain;
But my last breath shall bless thee!

Selim. Lov'd Irene !
What hath my fury done?

Irene. Canst thou, then,

Forgive and pity me?

Selim. I do, I do.

[They embrace.

Offi. No more.-Prepare the rack.
Irene. Here will I cling. No power on earth
shall part us

Till I have sav'd my Selim!

[Shout; clashing of swords, Aladin. [Without.] Arm, arm!-Treach'ry [to arms,

and murder!

Selim. Off, slaves!-Or I will turn my chains And dash you piece-meal!

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In powerless ignominy; while my sword Should hunt its prey, and cleave the tyrant down' Oth. [Without] Where is the prince? Selim. Here, Othman bound to earth! Set me but free!-O cursed, cursed chain! Enter OTHMAN and Party, who free SELIM. Oth. O my brave prince !-Heaven favours our design. [Embraces him. Take that I need not bid thee use it nobly. [Giving him a sword. Selim. Now, Barbarossa, let my arm meet thine, 'Tis all I ask of Heaven! [Exit. [Exit. Oth. Guard ye the prince[They bind him. [Part go out. Pursue his steps. Now this way let us turn, And seek the tyrant.

[Bell tolls.

Thy fate is seal'd. Not all thy mother's tears,
Nor prayers, nor eloquence of grief, shall save thee
From instant death.

Selim. Come on, then.
Begin the work of death-what! bound with cords,
Like a vile criminal!-O valiant friends,
When will ye give me vengeance!

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[Exeunt

SCENE III-A Court in the Palace.

Enter BARBAROSSA.

Bar. Empire is lost, and life: yet brave revenge Shall close my life in glory.

Enter OTHMAN.

Enter ZAPHIRA.

Have I found thee,

Dissembling traitor? Die !

Zaph. What mean these horrors? wheresoe'er 1 turn

[They fight; BARBAROSSA falls. Weltering in gore! And dost thou live, my Selim?

My trembling steps, I find some dying wretch,

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Selim, Lo, there the tyrant lies!

Zaph. O righteous Heaven!

Selim. Behold thy valiant friends,

[power

Whose faith and courage have o'erwhelm'd the Of Barbarossa.

Zaph. Just are thy ways, O Heaven! Vain terrors, hence!

Once more Zaphira's bless'd !—

Selim. O happy hour! happy, beyond
Even hope! Look down, bless'd shade,

From the bright realms of bliss! Behold thy queen
Unspotted, unseduc'd, unmov'd in virtue.
Behold the tyrant prostrate at thy feet!
And to the memory of thy bleeding wrongs,
Accept this sacrifice.

Zaph. My generous Selim!

Selim. Where is Irene ?

Oth. Zamor, our trusty friend, at my command, Convey'd the weeping fair one to her chamber Selim. Thanks to thy generous care. Zaph. Her virtues might atone For all her father's guilt! Thy throne be hers She merits all thy love. [ther's crimes, Selim. Then haste, and find her. O'er her fa Pity shall draw her veil; nay, half absolve then, When she beholds the virtues of his child. Now let us thank th' eternal Power: convinc'd. That Heaven but tries our virtue by affliction; That oft the cloud, which wraps the present hou, Serves but to brighten all our future days! [Exeunt.

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THE RECRUITING SERGEANT:

A MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT,

IN ONE ACT.

BY ISAAC BICKERSTAFF.

REMARKS.

THE musical merits of this Burletta have always been acknowledged; it is now seldom performed, but it is well entitled to preference. In 1789, it was produced at the Royalty Theatre, under the management of Mr. John Palmer and met with great success.

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SCENE.-View of a Village, with a Bridge. On one side, near the front, a Cottage; on the other, at the foot of the Bridge, an Alehouse. The Curtain rises and discovers two Light Horsemen, supposed to be on their march, sitting at an Alehouse door; with their arms against the wall, their horses at some distance. The SERGEANT then passes with his party over the bridge, drums, and fifes playing; and afterwards the COUNTRYMAN, his WIFE, and his MOTHER, come out from the Cottage. QUARTET.-SERGEANT, COUNTRYMAN, MOTHER, and WIFE.

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Coun.

To serve the king for volunteers;

Moth.

Speak you, my boys, that dare.

Coun.

Come, who'll be a grenadier?

The listing money down

Moth.

You graceless rogue,

Is three guineas and a crown,

To be spent in punch or beer.

Wife.

Coun.

Adds flesh, I'll go with him.

Moth.

Oh, no,

Coun.

Is your heart a stone?

I'm flesh of your flesh,*

And bone of your bone.
Zounds, let me alone.

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Out upon thee, wicked locust,
Worse in country nor a plague;
Men by thee are hocust pocust
Into danger and fatigue.
And the justices outbear thee
In thy tricks, but I don't fear thee,
No, nor those that with thee league.
My son has enough at home,
He needs not for bread to roam;
Already his pay

Is twelvepence a day,

His honest labour's fruits;

T'hen get thee a trudging quick,
For 'gad, if I take a stick,
I'll make thee repent,
When here thee wert sent,
A drumming for recruits.

[Exit into the Cottage.

Re-enter MOTHER, with three little Children.

Coun. Then won't you go, and let a body be?
Serg. Zounds, is the woman mad?
Moth. Dawn't swear at me.

Wife. Dear Joseph, what's come o'er thee?

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For folks you know not who! With richer friends than we, And prouder you may be,

But none will prove so true.

[Exit with the Children, Serg. Comrade, your hand: I love a lad of soul;

Your name, to enter on my muster-roll :

To Justice Swear'em then, to take our oath. Coun. Hold, sergeant, hold, there's time enough for both.

If I've a moind to list, I'll list, d'ye see;
But some discourse first, betwixt yow and me.
A souldier's life-

Serg. The finest life that goes;

Free quarters every where

Coun. Ay, that we knows.

Serg. Then, wenches!

Coun. You've free quarters too with they; Girls love the red coats

Serg. 'Gad, and well they may.

[sort,

Coun. But when to fareign wars your men re

Fighting-a battle

Serg. 'Tis the rarest sport.

Coun. Tell us a little about that.
Serg. I will.

Wife. Don't listen to him, Joe!
Coun. Do you be still.

AIR. SERGEANT.

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Kill's the word, both men and cattle;
Then to plunder,

Blood and thunder,

What a charming thing's a battle!

Moth. Call you this charming? "Tis the work of hell.

Wife. How dost thou like it, Joe?
Coun. Why, pretty well.

Serg. But pretty well?

Coun. Why need there more be said? But mayn't I happen too to lose my head? Serg. Your head?

Coun. Ay.

Serg. Let me see: your head, my buck➡.. Coun. A leg or arm too?

Serg. Not if you've good luck.

Coun. Good luck!

Serg. The chance of war is doubtful still ·

Soldiers must run the risk.

Coun. They may, that will.

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Wife. I see it plain.

[short,

Coun. I swore to be reveng'd, and vow'd, in To list ma, to be even with thee for 't; But kiss me, now my plaguy anger 's o'er. Wife. And I'll ne'er dodge thee to the alehouse more.

DUET.-COUNTRYMAN and WIFE. Coun. From henceforth, wedded to my farm, My thoughts shall never rove on harm, I to the field perchance may go, But it shall be to reap or sow. Wife. Now blessings on thy honest heart, Thy wife shall bear an equal part; Work thee without doors, she within Will keep the house, and card and spin. Coun. How foolish they, in love with strife, Who quit the peaceful country life; Wife. Where wholesome labour is the best, And surest guide to balmy rest! Both. That lot true happiness secures,

And, bless'd, be prais'd, is mine and
yours.

Content beneath the numble shed,
We'll toil to earn our babies bread;

With mutual kindness bear love's yoke, And pity greater, finer folk. [Here is introduced a dance of Light-horse men, Recruits, and Country girls; after which the SERGEANT comes out, with a drinking glass in his hand, followed by his party, to the CockTRYMAN, the WIFE, and the MOTHER, whe have been looking on the dance.

Serg. Well, countryman, art off the listing pin, Yet wilt thou beat a march?

Wife. Dear Joe! come in.

Moth. Hang-dog, be gone, and tempt my boy

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And humble the foes to his crown in the dust.

Chorus. Beat drums, beat amain,
Let the ear-piercing fife
To our measures give life;
While each British heart
In the health bears a part,
And joins the loyal strain.

Wife. Here's a health to the queen; gracious, mild, and engaging,

Accomplish'd in all that a woman should own;

The cares of her consort with softness assuaging,

Whose manners add splendour and grace to a throne.

Chorus. Beat drums, &c.

Moth. Here's a health to those beautiful babes, whom the nation

Regards as a pledge from the sire it

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