 | Zingis |  |
18
ACT II.
SCENE, Ovisa's Tent,Enter OVISA, from her Tent.
OVISA.
If e're the spirit of a warrior slain,
Journey'd in storms across the troubled sky:
Last night, my brother Zangon pass'd this place,
And call'd Ovisa hence. The voice was deep,
As when high Arol, shaking all his woods,
Speaks to the passing thunder.—Thro' my soul
A pleasing horror runs; perhaps not long
Ovisa tarries here. The silent tomb
Is not the house of sorrow.—Airy form
Of him who is no more! Where dost thou dwell?
Rejoicest thou on golden-skirted clouds?
Or is thy murmur in the hollow wind?
Where ere thou art, mine ear with awful joy,
Shall listen to thy voice!—Descend with night,
If thou must shun the day.—O stray not far
From the remains of Aunac's failing line.
Enter MILA.
MILA.
Hail bright Sultana! let a faithful friend,
[kneeling.
Thus pay the homage which she owes a race
Who rul'd so long nations.
OVISA.
Mila, rise;—
Belov'd companion of my better days!
19
Intrude upon the sorrows of Ovisa?
MILA.
To chace the cloud that hangs upon thy soul,
I come the messenger of Aunac's friends.
They sent me to disclose—
OVISA.
I know it all.
Octar is come!
MILA.
Far other news I bring.
Are we alone?
OVISIA.
From mortal ears remov'd.
MILA.
The fate of royal Aunac now depends
Upon Ovisa.—Should she lend her aid,
The king might reign.—
OVISA.
Then he already sits
Upon the Tartar throne. Why dost thou think
So poorly of Ovisa? Haste, explain
This mystery,—for doubts begin to blast
The sudden joy that lighten'd o'er my soul.
MILA.
A plot is forming in the Niron camp,
By Omrahs of renown, whom Cubla joins
With all his Eluths. By the midnight hour,
The king, thy father, with Zemouca, comes
To head the bold conspiracy, and rush
On Zingis 'midst his armies.
20
'Tis a deed
Of desp'rate daring.—Didst thou say to night?
Assist them heaven! But what avails the aid
Of desolate Ovisa!
MILA.
Much.—Thy hands
Already hold the balance of the East.
Ten thousand swords, obedient to thy call,
May be unsheath'd for Aunac. In this camp
The Tartars murmur thro' their martial lines,
For the disgrace of Timur. Arm the prince
Against his father.
OVISA.
Ha! I'll hear no more—
To recommend a crime my soul abhors,
To make a parricide of him I love,
Suits not the feelings of Ovisa's mind.
By private stratagem, by open war,
By any means, let cruel Zingis fall;
But let him fall by foes—The fame of Timur
Must not be tarnish'd;—nor shall I advise
A deed of such complexion. Mila, know
I may be wretched—but must not be base.
MILA.
Then let Ovisa triumph in a heart
That feels for Nirons. Did the cruel race
Once melt at the misfortunes of her house,
Or spare the line that rul'd the eastern world?
By him thy brother fell—By him the throne
Of Aunac was usurp'd.—Thy father driven,
21
Thyself a captive.—But Ovisa feels!—
Heavens! Is it any crime to rid the world
Of him, who riots in the blood of nations,
And makes a pastime of dethroning kings?
His guilt Ovisa—
OVISA.
It is more than common;
And heaven some signal vengeance has prepar'd
For him who widows Asia with his sword:
But let us not, in punishing, give birth,
To greater crimes than his.
MILA.
Unhappy maid,
Thou know'st not half the horrors of thy state.
To day dishonour'd Timur must retire,
A lonely exile from the Niron camp.
Tomorrow Octor comes with brutal lust,
To force thee to his arms. To night thy father—
OVISA.
Mila, proceed—
MILA.
Must welter in his blood.
The price is fix'd for Aunac's sacred head,
A peace to Naima. Soon as night returns,
Perfidious Tajan will surround the king.
OVISA.
No more—I know the rest—misfortunes crowd
Too much upon me. What should I resolve,
Hemm'd in on every side? I'll urge the prince,
And yet he must abhor me.
22
Timur comes,
As if by heaven directed to our aid.
This is the time.—Remember thy condition.
[Exit.
OVISA.
He comes.—With undiminish'd pomp he moves
Behind his cloud—As when the sun thro' mist
Rolls on his faded orb. He greater seems,
Tho' lost to half his beams. And shall I plunge
This god in parricide?
Enter TIMUR,
TIMUR.
I did resolve—
But cannot speak the tumult of my soul.—
Queen of the East!
OVISA.
That title ill becomes
A state like mine.—This instant leave me, Timur,
If thou regard'st thy peace.
TIMUR.
What means, Ovisa?
Where dwells the peace of Timur, but with her
Who reigns within his soul?
OVISA.
Have we not prince—
The house of Aunac—have we not involv'd
Thee in misfortunes? Pinion'd down thy fame
That spread to heaven? Cover'd thee with shame?
And thrown disgrace upon the first of men.
We made thee no return,—for kings dethron'd.
23
'Twas all she had to give—her heart to Timur.
TIMUR.
'Twas all that Timur wish'd, thou matchless maid—
But whence is this distress—this sudden grief
That labors in thy bosom? Tell me all;
My soul is up in arms against those ills
That press upon thee.
OVISA.
Timur would not chuse
To hate Ovisa.
TIMUR.
No.—
OVISA.
Then let him not
Enquire into her griefs. She may propose
A dreadful task. O leave me to myself,
My soul is young in mischief and demands
Some time to harden ere it can resolve
On what my state requires.
TIMUR.
Speak but the word,
Thou bright divinity that rul'st my soul;
And then I will—what will not Timur do?
I will—I know not what—but something more
Than ever mortal did.
OVISA.
Take heed young prince!
Be not too rash to promise—Timur's word
Is like a god's, irrevocably fix'd:—
But were my suit once known, 'twere criminal
24
I know thy lion-heart delights in perils,
When honor leads thee to her bloody fields,
Yet what I would propose would throw a damp
On all thy courage. In Ovisa's cause
There's more than danger—Guilt.—Thou shrinkest back.
I thought it would offend.—My soul approves
The noble horror that invades his mind.
I leave him to his virtue.
[Going.
TIMUR.
Stay—by heavens!—
Thou must not thus depart.—Ovisa—speak,
Speak all thy wishes and they shall be done.—
Propose the peril.—Guilt can never dwell
In such a cause as thine.
OVISA.
Then know, my state,
Uncommon in its horrors, now demands
The sword of Timur.—Zingis shuts the door
Of hope against thee.—Octar comes to-morrow—
What shall I do?
TIMUR.
I will defend—
OVISA.
Alas!—
Who shall ward off the hand of death from Aunac?
To-night he falls.—The cruel Zingis gives
A peace to Naima, for her sovereign's head.
Amidst the ruins of a falling line
Ovisa stands alone.
25
I know thy soul,
And quickly will resolve.—
OVISA.
No—Timur—no.
Recall the thought, and be thyself again.
Ovisa loves thy virtues, not thy crimes,
And should'st thou stain thine honor, who can tell
What she would think of thee?
[Exit.
TIMUR.
The light is gone
And left me darken'd, on a stormy sea
Of various passions toss'd.—What should I do?
To hide me in the cloud of my disgrace,
And leave Ovisa and the world to Octar;
Death dwells upon the thought. But to ascend
A throne, besmear'd with blood,—a father's blood,
And reign a horrid parricide in Asia,
Suits not a soul like mine.—
Enter CUBLA.
CUBLA.
While others watch the motions of the foe,
Marshal their tribes, or furbish up their steel
For battle. Timur, whiles his time away
Before the shrine of beauty.—Blush, young man,
These are not arts in which our race excell'd,
Nor these the means by which they rose to fame.
TIMUR.
Is Cubla, like the world, whose censure falls
Not on the guilty, but unfortunate?
26
We only call the prosperous villain great.—
Let Cubla judge of Timur, by himself,
By the high spirit, which descends to both
From Eluth's line of kings; and he may know
Disgrace, unmerited, can never damp
The vigour of my soul.
CUBLA.
Yet still thou bear'st,
With tameness, which but ill becomes our race,
This weight of infamy, by Zingis, thrown
Upon thee, in his wrath.
TIMUR.
Could Timur break
Thro' honor and his duty, he might raise
A flame, the billowy Caspian shou'd not quench.
But tho' my soul, undaunted in the field,
Swells at the growth of danger and demands
More than my share of battle; there are things
Which make me shudder, Cubla, and betray
A woman's weakness. Dark conspiracies,
Frauds cover'd o'er with art—those devious paths,
That lead the villains of the world to power,
Please not the open spirit of my mind.
I hate pre-eminence that springs from guilt,
And never, but thro' honor, would be great.
CUBLA.
Timur farewel.—A man that can submit
To such indignities, as thou hast borne,
Deserves not my attention.—Hence—away—
Involve thee in obscurity.—It suits
The tame morality of Timur's mind.
27
Give up Ovisa.
TIMUR.
Ha! that strikes me home.
Say, what dost thou advise?
CUBLA.
To draw thy sword
Against thy father—Zingis—that proud man—
That tyrant of the East.—Thou startest, Timur,
His crimes, indeed, may shock a soul like thine.—
He, who without remorse, has trod on kings,
Has broke all sacred ties that bind mankind—
Has ruin'd nations to be reckon'd great,
And is unjust, not only to his foes,
But to his son.—
TIMUR.
My heart with horror shrinks
From such a deed.—
CUBLA.
So feels the feeble mind,
That trembles at the thought of arduous deeds,
And would impose its fears upon the world,
As the effects of virtue.—Go—weak boy,
I did advise thee.—Nay—I dare do more.
Go, tell thy father, Cubla is his foe:
This very night, in concert with his friends,
He means to prove it; but his friends are such
As shudder not at danger.
TIMUR.
He who doubts
My courage, should prepare to rest his hand
Upon his sword.—No mortal man but Cubla
28
My soul is dark, and secret as the tomb.
Unfold thy purpose.
CUBLA.
Yes—to night, I meant,
But thy officious virtue interferes,
To raise thee high in Asia.—To thy arms
To give Ovisa—Place thee next to him,
Who ought to rule the East.—To make thee heir
To Aunac's vast dominions. Dost thou still
Harbour a doubt? What darkness travels o'er
Thy thoughtful features? Is the fair Ovisa
Indifferent to Timur?
TIMUR.
Cubla—Stay,
I must consider.
CUBLA.
Time is on the wing.
We must resolve.—But ruin'd are my hopes!
There Nevian comes, and he must not perceive
That we confer. Long practis'd in the arts
Of policy, and guile,—from every word
And motion of the eye, he draws conclusions.
I'll soon return.
[Exit.
Enter NEVIAN.
NEVIAN.
Hail! gallant son of Zingis!
I come not sobbing like thy other friends,
With sad condolance and a woeful face,
To teaze thee with my pity.—No, I bring
Thy pardon, Timur.
29
Pardon, didst thou say?
NEVIAN.
Yes, full forgiveness from the king thy father.
I thought it would surprize.—
TIMUR.
It does indeed.—
NEVIAN.
I did it all—inexorable long
On my address, the lord of nations frown'd,
But still I urg'd.—At length he heard my suit,
And bade me call young Timur to his presence.
A fair occasion offers to retrieve
The honour thou hast lost—thy injur'd fame.
He now restores thee to thy former rank,
And sends thee forth, with half his warlike tribes,
To give the final blow to exil'd Aunac.
The troops, already marshal'd in the camp,
With shouts await thy orders.
TIMUR.
Let them shout—
Timur shall wait his time.
NEVIAN.
What do I hear?
Is this th'impetuous Timur? He whose soul
Rush'd on before him to the fields of fame?
And does he hesitate?
TIMUR.
Begone, old man,
Least in my rage—
NEVIAN.
What means the son of Zingis?
30
I am the friend of Timur.
TIMUR.
Hence—away—
I'll follow soon.
NEVIAN.
His late disgrace disturbs
His reason. When the angry lion roars,
There is no safety near him. To the tribes
I'll bear the welcome news of thy return.
[Exit.
TIMUR.
Was ever mind so agitated, torn
With such contending passions, as assail
At once the soul of Timur? To reject
The proffer'd service, puts immediate end
To all my hopes. The king can not escape—
Should I decline, another foe will rise
Against ill fated Aunac.—Here she comes!
Distraction—let me fly.—She bade me shield
Her ruin'd father, from the hand of death;
And I, in my humanity, assume
The office of his murderer.
Enter OVISA.
OVISA.
He starts!
Is then the presence of the lost Ovisa
Hateful to Timur? Prince, I do not come
To make thee deviate from the splendid path
Thy soul delights to follow.
[going.
TIMUR.
By the light,
31
Thou must not leave me.—But thou must—away—
Denounce thy curses on me.—In thy words
Of softness dwells unutterable pain.
O turn from Timur these indulgent eyes,
That shed soft pity, from their lucid orbs—
For I do not deserve it.—False to thee—
False to my word—A traitor to my love—
Thy father's murderer.
OVISA.
What means the prince,
He is not dead?
TIMUR.
But he must die Ovisa,
And by these hands. The cruel Zingis grants
My pardon, and commands me to the war:
To lead the Nirons o'er the Altay's stream,
To rush upon thy father in his camp,
And end this contest, that inflames the world.
[Shout.
Hark!—The impatient troops proclaim their joy
To see their prince restor'd, and shout for battle.
I come.—Ovisa—
OVISA.
Timur, leave me.—Go—
And, on the ruins of our falling race,
Rear to thyself a monument of fame.
Think not I seize thy skirts to keep thee here.
Think not I weep, these eyes are only dim
Think not I breath a sigh.
TIMUR.
Should guilty souls
Feel all my pangs—A moment of their woe
Might expiate the crimes of half a world.
32
Canst thou forgive me.—No—Ovisa—No—
Let not thy tenderness of soul extend
To such a wretch as Timur.—Yet his fate
Is most to blame.
OVISA.
Then hear me son of Zingis!
As love cannot detain thee—On my knees,
Once more, I beg an aged parents life.
O spare him, Timur; touch not his grey hairs,
Let him escape;—for Zingis will not long
In Aunac have a rival to his power.
The king, my father, worn with grief and years,
Already hastens to the silent tomb.
TIMUR.
By him that reigns above, he shall not die.
[Exit.
OVISA.
He's gone, and left me lonely to my woes.—
Hasten thy journey, sun—and gracious night,
Receive me to the bosom of thy gloom.
The rustling wind, that whistles thro' thy trees,
The solemn, serious, melancholly notes
Of thy own bird, are music to mine ear,
And please the dreary horrors of my soul.
Enter MILA.
Mila, thy tears will flow in vain.—My grief
Admits not of thy comfort.
33
Did my pow'r
Equal my wishes, soon the light of joy
Would brighten on thy forehead. But my voice
Must now be like the raven's to thine ear.
The van of Octar's army, from the hill,
Is seen to pour along in clouds of dust;
Edg'd round with gleaming arms, a chosen troop
On lightning hoofs come flying to the camp.
It must be he.—
OVISA.
Where shall I hide my head?
Timur where art thou? Call him to protect
The lost Ovisa—Timur.—He is gone!
But why should I complain? High heaven decrees
At once the fall of our devoted house;
Ovisa will not stay—a feeble light,
Behind the sitting glories of her line.
[Exeunt.
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
| Zingis | |