Reflection interposed, and held your arm.

But, should reflection prompt you to attempt it,
My innocence would give me strength to struggle,
And wrest the murderous weapon from your hand.
How would you look to find a peasant boy
Return the knife you levelled at his heart;

And ask you which in heaven would shew the best,-
A rich man's honour, or a poor man's honesty?

Sir E. Tis plain I dare not take your life.-To spare it, I have endangered mine.-But dread my power: You know not its extent.-Be warned in time, Trifle not with my feelings.-Listen, sir: Myriads of engines, which my secret working Can rouse to action, now encircle you. Your ruin hangs upon a thread; provoke me, And it shall fall upon you. Dare to make The slightest movement to awake my fears, And the gaunt criminal, naked and stake-tied, Left on the heath to blister in the sun, Till lingering death shall end his agony, Compared to thee, shall seem more enviable Than cherubs to the cursed !

Wil. Oh, misery!

Discard me, sir; I must be hateful to you.
Banish me hence: I will be mute as death;
But let me quit your service,

Sir E. Never! Fool!

To buy this secret, you have sold yourself,

Your movements, eyes, and most of all your breath,
From this time forth, are fettered to my will.

COLMAN.

VANOC AND VALENS.-THE BRITON.

Van. Now, Tribune :

Val. Health to Vanoc.

Van. Speak your business.

Val. I come not as a herald, but a friend :

And I rejoice that Didius chose out me

To greet a prince in my esteem the foremost.

Van. So much for words.-Now to your purpos

Tribune.

Val. Sent by our new lieutenant, who in Rome,
And since from me has heard of your renown,
I come to offer peace; to reconcile

Past enmities to strike perpetual league

With Vanoc; whom our emperor invites

To terms of friendship; strictest bonds of union.

Van. We must not hold a friendship with the Romans. Val. Why must you not?

Van. Virtue forbids it.

Val. Once

You thought our friendship was your greatest glory.
Van. I thought you honest.—I have been deceived.
Would you deceive me twice? No, Tribune; no!
You sought for war-maintain it as you may.

Val. Believe me, Prince, your vehemence of spirit,
Prone ever to extremes, betrays your judgment.
Would you once coolly reason on our conduct,-

Van. Oh, I have scanned it thoroughly.-Night and day

I think it over, and I think it base;

Most infamous! let who will judge-but Romans.

Did not my wife, did not my menial servant,
Seducing each the other, both conspire
Against my crown, against my fame, my life?
Did they not levy war and wage rebellion?
And when I would assert my right and power
As king and husband, when I would chastise
Two most abandoned wretches, who but Romans
Opposed my justice and maintained their crimes?

Val. At first the Romans did not interpose,
But grieved to see their best allies at variance.
Indeed, when you turned justice into rigour,
And even that rigour was pursued with fury,
We undertook to mediate for the queen,
And hoped to moderate-

Van. To moderate!

What would you moderate? My indignation;
The just resentment of a virtuous mind?
To mediate for the queen, you undertook?
Wherein concerned it you? But as you love
To exercise
Are you
insolence!
your
To arbitrate my wrongs? Must I ask leave,

Must I be taught to govern my own household ?
Am I then void of reason and of justice?
When in my family offences rise,

Shall strangers, saucy intermeddlers, say,
Thus far, and thus you are allowed to punish?
When I submit to such indignities;

When I am tamed to that degree of slavery,
Make me a citizen, a senator of Rome,
To watch, to live upon the smile of Claudius;
To give my wife and children to his pleasures,
To sell my country with my voice for bread.

Val. Prince, you insult upon this day's success,
You may provoke too far; but I am cool,
I give your answer scope.

Van. Who shall confine it?

The Romans? Let them rule their slaves. I blush.
That, dazzled in my youth with ostentation,

The trappings of the men seduced my virtue.

Val. Blush rather that you are a slave to passion,
Subservient to the wildness of your will;

Which, like a whirlwind, tears up all
your virtues,
And gives you not the leisure to consider.

Did not the Romans civilize you?

Van. No. They brought new customs and new vices

over,

Taught us more arts than honest men require,

And gave us wants that nature never knew.

Val. We found you naked.

Van. And you found us free.

Val. Would you be temperate once, and hear me out? Van. Speak things that honest men may hear with

temper,

Speak the plain truth, and varnish not your crimes.
Say that you once were virtuous, long ago,

A frugal hardy people, like the Britons,

Before you grew thus elegant in vice,

And gave your luxuries the name of virtues.
The civilizers! the disturbers, say;

The robbers, the corrupters of mankind,

Proud vagabonds! who make the world your home,
And lord it where you have no right.

L

What virtue have you taught?
Val. Humanity.

Van. Oh, patience!

Val. Can you disown a truth confessed by all?
A praise, a glory known in barbarous climes ?
For as our legions march they carry knowledge,
The arts, the laws, the discipline of life.
Our conquests are indulgences, and we
Not masters, but protectors of mankind.

Van. Prevaricating, false,—most courteous tyrants. Romans! Rare patterns of humanity!

Came you then here, thus far through waves to conquer, To waste, to plunder, out of mere compassion?

Is it humanity that prompts you on

To ravage the whole earth, to burn, destroy?
To raise the cry of widows and of orphans ?
To lead in bonds the generous free-born princes,
Who spurn, who fight against your tyranny?
Happy for us, and happy for you spoilers,
Had your humanity ne'er reached our world.
It is a virtue (so it seems you call it),
A Roman virtue that hast cost you dear
And dearer shall it cost if Vanoc lives.
Or if we die, we shall leave those behind us
Who know the worth of British liberty.

:

ANON.

SCENES ARRANGED FROM

DRAMATIC WRITERS.

BARBAROSSA.

BARBAROSSA AND SELIM DISGUISED AS ACHMET. Sel. Hail, mighty Barbarossa! As the pledge Of Selim's death behold thy ring restored, That pledge will speak the rest.

Bar. Rise, valiant youth;

But first no more a slave-I give thee freedom.
Thou art the youth, whom Omar (now no more)
Join'd his companion in this brave attempt.

Sel. I am.

Bar. Then tell me how you sped.—Where found ye That insolent?

Sel. We found him at Oran,

Plotting deep mischief to thy throne and people.
Bar. Well ye repaid the traitor—

Sel. As we ought.

While night drew on, we leaped upon our prey.
Full at his heart brave Omar aimed the poinard,
Which Selim shunning, wrenched it from his hand,
Then plunged it in his breast. I hasted on,
Too late to save, yet I revenged my friend:
My thirsty dagger, with repeated blows,
Searched every artery: they fell together,
Gasping in folds of mortal enmity:
And thus in frowns expired.

Bar. Well hast thou sped :

Thy dagger did its office, faithful Achmet!

And high reward shall wait thee.-One thing more—
Be the thought fortunate !-Go seek the queen.
For know, the rumour of her Selim's death
Hath reached her ear: hence dark suspicions rise,