TAMERLANE.
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Confest the Conquest, they had well deserv'd:There a dejected Crew of wretched CaptivesSore with unprofitable Hurts, and groaningUnder new Bondage, follow'd sadly afterThe haughty Victor's heels; but that, which fullyCrown'd the Success of Tamerlane, was Bajazet,Fall'n like the proud Archangel from the heigth,Where once (even next to Majesty Divine).Enthron'd he sat, down to the vile descentAnd lowness of a Slave; but oh! to speakThe Rage, the Fierceness, and the Indignation!———It bars all Words, and cuts description short.
Mon.Then he is fall'n! that Comet, which, on high,Portended Ruin; he has spent his Blaze,And shall distract the World with Fears no more:Sure it must bode me well, for oft my SoulHas started into Tumult at his Name,As if my Guardian Angel took th' Alarm,At the approach of somewhat mortal to me:But say, my Friend, what hear'st thou of Arpasia?For there my Thoughts, my every Care is center'd.
Str.Tho' on that purpose still I bent my Search,Yet nothing certain could I gain, but this,That in the Pillage of the Sultan's Tent,Some Women were made Pris'ners, who this morningWere to be offer'd to the Emperors View;Their Names, and Qualities, tho' oft enquiring,I could not learn.
Mon.Then must my Soul still labourBeneath Uncertainty, and anxious doubt,The Mind's worst State. The Tyrant's Ruin gives meBut a half-ease.
Str.'Twas said, not far from henceThe Captives were to wait the Emperor's passage.
Mon.Hast me to find the place. Oh! my Arpasia!Shall we not meet? Why hangs my Heart thus heavyLike Death within my Bosom? Oh! 'tis well,The Joy of meeting pays the pangs of Absence,Else who could bear it?
When
