ATHAMAND.

Be greatly daring then-Led on by us,

Glory shall spread her flatt'ring pinions round thee, And fan the gales of godlike emulation.

INDATER.

Can I descend to own thee for a master?

ATHAMAND.

'Tis glory sure to own a generous master,
Who sets the noblest price on noblest actions:
Beneath our arms, what might not be achiev'd?
I've 'mong my warriors Scythians like to thee.

INDATER.

Thou hast none.-Know, that th' unworthy Scy

thians,

Who border on thy climes, are not like us;
Avarice has canker'd their imprison'd minds,
And lust of gold has blinded them to justice.

ATHAMAND.

Seek to advance thy countrymen to glory!
To shelter only suits the languid soul;

Here honour withers-justice ye have none-
Come on, with me learn justice, for thou need'st it.

Learn justice?

INDATER.

ATHAMAND.

Ay, justice, impious traitor!

Render to me the treasure thou hast stol'n;
Render an honour'd subject to her monarch;
A good no mortal shall deprive me of,

And which, with justice, cannot be withheld.

Give

up, this instant, Zobeide.

INDATER.

Hah! to thee !

To that high menace, and that haughty air!
She is thy subject!-dar'st thou then pretend,
That the unhappy race in Media born

Have not the common rights of human kind?
That man may be a slave in Media's realms

I well consent--in Scythia he is free.

From that blest moment Zobeide sought for shelter
On the bleak margin of these drear domains,
Liberty and peace, their sure associates,
Happy equality, all life's golden blessings,
Blessings, which Persia ravish'd from mankind,
Blessings, by others lost, by us redeem'd,

Were nature's claims, th' inheritance of Zobeide.

ATHAMAND.

The treasure I contend for is so great,

I would dispute my title with the world;
None but a king can hold the least pretence.

INDATER.

Shall kings control th' eternal rights of nature? The free-born mind is royal of itself,

Nor asks vain glosses from exterior grandeur.

ATHAMAND.

Thou canst but have a feeble low idea
Of all the fury that inflames my soul;
I would forego an empire to obtain her:

And canst thou think to treasure such a blessing? The treasure's mine-renounce her, fell barbarian!

INDATER.

Imprudent stranger!-the fury of thy words
Excites my pity, more than my resentment;
Rude and untutor'd, new from nature's hand,
I simply spoke my love, and Zobeide chose me:
Fly from these blest abodes, thou feeble man!
Thy rank, thy fortunes, give thee no protection;
Offend not mortals ev'ry way thy equals;

Thou art no monarch here.

ATHAMAND.

That sacred character

Accompanies me throughout the universe;
If I but give the word, a warlike troop,
Ardent on duty, drags thee to my feet:
But I descend to thee-cast off my dignity-
Enough, I am a man-this sword sufficeth

To bring again the wealth thou'st ravish'd from me.

INDATER.

Hah! have we not in peace receiv'd thee here?
Giv'n thee protection-our simplicity
Strictly observ'd the rites of hospitality;

And would'st thou force me, on this sacred day,
To break down all, and stain me with thy blood?

ATHAMAND.

Seek not to justify a coward's fears,

Cowards are always talkative of reason;

Draw then or yield the bright reward-that honour A monarch deigns to give thee.

INDATER.

'Tis too much :

Man cannot brook such wrongs.

ATHAMAND.

Retire this instant then-no more delay-
They may prevent us here.-Now, to decide:
Not Persia's fair dominion fires my soul,
I fight for more-much more-

INDATER.

For Zobeide.

And, as my cause is just, avenge, ye Pow'rs!

[Exeunt.

Enter HERMODON, SEYFEL, Scythians.

HERMODON.

My son, my son-let my paternal care

Lead back thy wan'dring steps-all now expect thee:

The gentle Zobeide blames thy cold delay,
And chills the feast with tears-Ha!-is he fled?
Unlike himself he look'd-terror, methought,
Or rage sat trembling on his troubled brow.

I

SEYFEL.

may conceive imaginary fears;

But, if my eyes by grief are not impair'd,

I saw the haughty Persian prince precede him.

The Persian prince?

HERMODON.

Imagination teems with weightiest terrors;
My son is gentle-yet unfledg'd in arms-
But Athamand--

SEYFEL.

Is daring e'en to madness.

HERMODON.

Let's follow close-ah! feebleness invades
My frozen soul-my senses, all dismay'd,
Betray my courage-I faint, my friend-I fall-
My son returns not yet-oh heavens! they fight—
Now, now he bleeds, perhaps--leave me this
instant-

Assemble all our warriors to protect him!

SCYTHIAN.

Droop not, my friend-our troops stand all prepar'd. I haste to lead them on-summon thy courage!

SEYFEL.

O call up awful virtue to thy succour!

HERMODON.

Yes, I'll support me, Seyfel; I revive,

I feel returning strength.

[Exit.

Enter ATHAMAND (with a sword drawn), HASAN, and Persians.

ATHAMAND,

To arms, to arms!

My gen'rous friends--the times now call for

valour

But where to find her? follow me-come on