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 your insolence!

Are you
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 yon 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 suspicionsṛ ise,

Glancing at me. Go tell her that thou saw'st
Her son expire;—that with his dying breath
He did conjure her to receive my vows,
And give her country peace.

Enter OTHMAN and ALADIN.

Most welcome, Othman ;

Behold this gallant stranger. He hath done
The state good service. Let some high reward
Await him, such as may o'erpay his zeal.
Conduct him to the queen; for he hath news
Worthy her ear from her departed son,

Such as may win her love.

Sel. What anxious thought

[Exit.

Rolls in thine eye, and heaves thy labouring breast?
Why join'st thou not the loud excess of joy

That riots through the palace?

Oth. Dar'st thou tell me

On what dark errand thou art here?

Sel. I dare.

Dost thou not perceive the savage lines of blood

Deform my visage ?-
?—

I am Selim's murd'rer.

Remorseless fury—

Oth. Selim's murderer ?

Read'st not in mine eye

Sel. Start not from me.

My dagger thirsts not but for regal blood—

Why this amazement ?

Oth. Amazement !-No-'tis well: 'tis as it should be He was indeed a foe to Barbarossa.

Sel. And therefore to Algiers:—Was it not so?
Why dost thou pause: what passion shakes thy frame?
Oth. Fate, do thy worst! I can no more dissemble;
Can I unmoved behold the murdering ruffian,

Smeared with my prince's blood!—Go, tell the tyrant
Othman defies his power; that tired with life,
He dares his bloody hand, and pleads to die.
Sel. What, didst thou love this Selim?

Oth. All men lov'd him.

He was of such unmix'd and blameless quality,
That envy at his praise stood mute, nor dared
To sully his fair name. Remorseless tyrant!-