2
TAMERLANE.
Upon his prosp'rous Sword; approving Heav'nStill crown'd the righteous Warrior with Success;As if it said, Go forth, and be my Champion,Thou most like me of all my Works below.
Pr.No Lust of Rule, (the common Vice of Kings)No furious Zeal inspir'd by hot-brain'd Priests,I hid beneath Religion's Specious Name,E'er drew his temperate Courage to the Field:But to redress an Injur'd People's Wrongs,To save the weak one from the strong Oppressor,Is all his End of War; and when he drawsthe sword to punish, like relenting Heav'n,He seems unwilling to deface his Kind.
Mir.So rich his Soul in every virtuous Grace,That, had not Nature made him great by Birth,Yet all the Brave had sought him for their Friend:The Christian Prince Axalla nicely bredIn polish'd Arts of Europæan Courts,For him forsakes his Native Italy,And lives a happy Exile in his Service.
Pr.Pleas'd with the gentle Manners of that Prince,Our mighty Lord is lavish to his Friendship;Tho' Omar, and the Tartar Lords repine,And loudly tax their Monarch, as too partial.
Zam.'E'er the mid Hour of Night, from Tent to Tent,Unweary'd, thro' the num'rous Host he past,Viewing with careful Eyes each several Quarter;Whilst from his Looks, as from Divinity,The Soldier took Presage; and cry'd, Lead on,Great Alha, and our Emperor, Lead onTo Victory, and Everlasting fame.
Mir.Hear you of Bajazet?
Pr.Late in the EveningA Slave, of near Attendance on his Person,'Scap'd to our Camp: from him we learn'd, the TyrantWith Rage redoubled, for the Fight prepares;Some accidental Passion fires his Breast,(Love, as 'tis thought, for a fair Grecian Captive)
And
