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ZOBEIDE.

ACT I. SCENE I.

The Scene represents rocks and trees, with a distant view of the river Oxus.

HERMODON, INDATER, Scythians.

HERMODON.

WHENCE this daring insult?

What strangers these, who with intrusive march,
Have pass'd the summits of Imaus rocks?
Mean they to ravage on the banks of Oxus,
Or spoil the plains of innocence and peace?

INDATER.

Our troops, whose minds no dangers can appal,
Observing from afar some hasty steps,

Advance with eager speed.-The Persians meet us;
When straight a martial youth, with haughty mien,
Demanded of us parley with our master.

HERMODON.

What master know we here, where all are free? No kings, no subjects; but all friends and brothers.

INDATER.

He said, that visiting the Persian frontier,
He wished to see a people far renown'd
For ancient manners and bleak liberty:
We offer them safe conduct and protection;
Whilst they present to our astonished sight
Rich trappings, blazing shields, gold, diamonds,
pearls,

The guilty spoils of desolating war:

But we reject these specious toys of grandeur;
For poverty is chiefest grandeur here,
Not wealth, corrupter of simplicity.

In short, we swear an amity sincere,

And lo! they come to crown this prosp'rous day, Which gives me happiness and Zobeide.

HERMODON.

But Zobeide, thou know'st, whose blooming charms Have won thy soul-was born among the Persians!

INDATER.

The sun, which rises o'er yon eastern hill,
And which each morn we gratefully adore,
Shines not on us alone--It shines on Persia:

Then may not Persia boast its ray

HERMODON.

divine?

Thou little know'st the secrets of my heart;

Since, after four long years in friendship past,

I still am stranger to her father's story

What fate mysterious lur'd them to these climes;
Why persecution still attends his exile;
For, ever as I'd sooth him into converse,
He answers but with tributary tears.

INDATER.

To this fair country's maxims and her laws
He cheerfully submits-and way-worn age
Can rarely change the bent of early nature.
But fairest Zobeide-

HERMODON.

Is worthy of thee. And yet I cannnot guess the cause, her father Blushes to speak of whom he is descended; His rank, his fortunes, and his fame unknown.

INDATER.

Whoe'er he be, I'm sure he's just and valiant: He loves me-He is father to my Zobeide.

HERMODON.

As no vile aims debase a Scythian's mind,
We will not meanly stoop to ask a prize,
The brightest, fairest prize, whilst covert fears
Or foul distrust sit low'ring on our motives.
Seek him, my son-if no unworthy thoughts
Shall harbour in his breast-I will consent.
But see, he comes-

Enter SEYFel.

INDATER.

O generous old man!

Thou dear companion of our happy shepherds! This day some gallant youths will soon arrive,

And view with joy the festive rites that wait us;
I from thy hand this happy day receive

A gift more precious than the throne of Cyrus :
What age of service can repay such goodness!
I cannot speak the feelings of my heart.
Witness, ye Gods !-not Hermodon more shares
My duty or my love:-Ah! whence those sighs?

SEYFEL.

They flow from tenderness and former cares :
If, amidst all my griefs, this faithful union
Should heal some wound which rankles near my

heart,

The scar would still remain-For blessings oft
Recal to mind the evils we have suffered.

INDATER.

O! speak the fatal source of each misfortune;
If not redress, we may at least infuse

The sacred balm of sympathizing pity.

HERMODON.

For all the friendship we have firmly sworn,
Thou ow'st this tribute to us.

SEYFEL.

My gentle youth,

Zobeide, thou know'st, submits, her will to mine;
She is the only good the gods have left me:
I wish this marriage-I'll advise, persuade,
But cannot strain the bond of rightful sway,
The soft authority of friend and parent.
Go, thou dear hope of my declining age,

I would some private conf'rence here-Meanwhile,

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