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but I never

Oct. I'll lead thee to't ; [Crossing, R. for I am high in

In Cupid's cabinet: I bear the torch
Before the little god; and 'tis my care
To shield from peril true love's votaries.

Sadi. (Aside.] I knew he was a great man; heard mention before of such a place of dignity. (Aloud. Along, good fellow, and we'll follow thee.

Oct. They shall not part you; for I know what ʼtis, When worldly knaves step in, with silver beards, To poison bliss, and pluck young souls asunder. Oh! wander, boundless Love, across the wild ! Give thy free passion scope, and range the wilderness! Crib not thyself in cities, for 'tis there The thrifty, gray philosopher inhabits, To check thy glowing impulse in his child ! Gaiu is the old man's god: he offers up His issue to’t, and mercenary wedlock Murders his offspring's peace! They murdered mine! They tore it from my bosom by the roots, And with it plucked out hope! Well, well. no matter! Despair burns high within me, and its fire Serves me for heat, to keep my clay in motion. Follow my footsteps.

Agnes. Out, alas! his wits are turned. Do not venture with him, Sadi; he will do us a mischief.

Sadi. Truly, the tenement of his brain seems somewhat out of repair. Wilt lead us safe now?

Oct Be sure on't.

Sadı. Tuck thyself under my arm, Agnes. Now out, cimetar! Bring us to this same goatherd's, and thou shalt have the best acknowledgments gratitude can give thee. If thou venturest to harm her, I'll quickly stir the fire in thy bosom thou talkest of, and this Showing the cimetar,) shall serve for the poker.

Oct. Should the gaunt wolf cross lovers in their path, I'd rend his rugged jaws, and he should bay The moon no more with howling! Thread the thicket,Follow Love's messengers !

(Exeunt, R. Enter GOATIERDS, and male and female Spanish Pastoral

Characters, L. Third G. (R. e.) On, brother goatherds! By the mass, 'tis broad day, and the blazing sun cries sluggard upon us! Up to the pens! our goats will choke else: they have needed drink an hour

ago. Fourth G. (c.) Troth, brother, and so have we.

When man has a call for refreshment, 'tis but fit beast should tar. ry till his better be served before him. We have walked a good half league from home : let us whet our whistles, and then we will think on the horns and long beards of our old cuckoldy cattle.

First G. Brother goatherd, mark you me,

Pledge me when I drink to thee;
Let us drain the skins of wine,
Till our ruby noses shine.
Mountain grapes and mountain'cheer

Warm the merry mountaineer.
Second G. Let us push the wine about,

Till the last-last drop is out;
Then each Spanish man go
And dance the fandango:
When jigging with lasses,

How sweet the time passes !
When mountain grapes and mountain cheer

Have warmed the merry mountaineer.
Female. Sluggish goatherds, haste away:

The drooping cattle mourn your stay.
Labour till the sloping sun

work is done ;
Then your rough brows with chaplets deck,
And trimly dance to the rebeck.

Then each Spanish man go
And move the fandango:
When jigging with lasses,

How sweet the time passes !
'When work is done, and mountain cheer
Narms the merry mountaineer!

[.5 went to

that your



SCENE I.--The Sierra de Ronda.
Enter BUL.CAZIN MULEY, GANEM, and Moorish Soldiers, X

Ganem. (R.) In truth, the men must rest, sir.
Bulca. (c.) Must?

Ganem. Perforce,
This long and hurried march has made them faint
We are all nigh to drop.

Bulca. Here sink and rot, then! I will on alone.
Sluggard ! the blisters now that gall thy feet
Work upwark to thy heart, and fester there!
Then thou wilt feel some touch of anguish in't,
Like that which thou hast fixed in mine! Thou base,
Unmindful slave! who, in thy master's absence,
Should'st mark each fly that buzzes through his portal,
Thy vigilance must nod upon its post,
While à vile Christian steals away my daughter !

Ganem. Believe me, sir

Bul. I will not, wretch, believe thee! Thou art-Yes, Ganem-yes, I will believe thee. 'Twas all my daughter's doings; 'twas her nature's,Her sex's wicked, wanton, subtle nature ! To fly me! To fly her father! and so kind a father! If somewhat rough, that was the trick of battles, Where I was bred. She knew I doated on her: When I have thought on what could charm the sense, Till it would almost ache with tenderness, Great Alla knows I have named thee, Zorayda ! Then leave me thus, and break my poor old heart! And with a Christian, 100 ! Oh, death and shame! Should she now cross me, though she smiled upon me Like twenty dini pled cherubim, my rage Would tear her limb from limb, and her sweet form Should scatter piece-meal through the desert! [Crosses, R.

Gan. Sir, I

pray you, be advised: think what is best To cheer your fainting people on the march. Your pardon, sir; but this same flow of passion,

Unnerving you, and harassing your men,
Defeats the purpose of your enterprise.

Bulca. Check my full passion ! happy, happy fool! “ Thou know'st not a fond parent's agony, “ Deserted by his loved, ungrateful child ! “Oh, my Zorayda! dear, shameless girl! “ Thou art delicious poison to my sense, “ Most sweet, and yet most deadly. Out upon thee, “In stern and rugged justice ; and affection “ Would throw the weeping father on his knees, “To kiss the wound the much-wronged judge had made."

Ganem. Beseech you, sir, give order for your soldiery.
Bulca. A pestilence upon thee !—Thou’rt a fiend,
That grudges me my sorrow's luxury,
And goad'st me when I would indulge in torture !
Tell me again of what these filth endure,
I'll cleave thy body downward from thy head,
To teach them how to labour and be silent !

Ganem. Think, sir, it is in care alone for you
I pour unpleasing truth into your ear;
Which, like a nauseous drug to the diseased,
Is given to work your welfare. 'Tis my duty
Sooth, sir, they cannot on.

Bulca. Mad, senseless liar !
Thou gallest me past endurance, and hast pulled
Thy death


[Draws his cimetar Ganem. Kneeling. Oh, sir, take my life! It is not worth the keeping. I have followed you From infancy, till now, in honest zeal: 'Twould grieve me, sir, to seek another master : And, as my truth is grown displeasing to you, 'Twere best you bring my service to a close, And e'en dispatch me here at once.

Bulca. (Softened.] Why, Ganem !
I tell thee, Ganem-Psha! when we are formed,
So much of mother marks our composition,
It mars our manly resolution. Ganem,
I have a daughter-think on that, good Ganem!
And she has fled me. I do think thy counsel
Is kindly meant; but spare it now, good fellow ;
My passions cannot brook it. Have we strayed?
Do we pursue the track?

Ganem. The peasant, sir,
Whom we did question at the mountain's fort,
Pointed this path to Ronda. Thitherward
Your daughter, as we trace it, must have journeyed.
Bulca. They shall not rest!

[Crosses, L.
By Mahomet, I swear, if I do hear
A single Moor bewailing the fatigue,
His coward body suffers on the instant !
My cimetar shall search his body through!
March, slaves! away!

[Exeunt, L. SCENE IJ.-The Outside of a Goatherd's Cottage. SADI, L., and AGNES, R., discovered before the door, C. F., at

table, eating and drinking. Sadi. Truly, eating is a mighty refreshing invention ! -This olla podrida of our friend, the goatherd's here, has a strange quality in't of raising the spirits. What is the reason on’t, Agnes? I never swallowed a meal before that made me so merry.

Agnes. Out, you goose! 'tis the wine that thou hast drank. Wine, thou knowest, comforts man, makes him light of heart, Sadi,

Sadi. What an advantage 'tis to a Catholic to be able thus io cork up comfort, and carry his happiness about with him under his arm, in a flagon! Pour some of this light-heartedness down thy sweet throat, Agnes. Had I a hundred vintages of welfare, I would leave them all untapped, if thou wert not by to share them with me.

[Fills and drinks. Agnes. 'Tis sufficient, Sadi. [They rise.] Thou knowest not the strength of liquor; too much on't would work to thy brain, and weaken reason.

Sadi. That must be because my skull is not yet altogether Christian: it would never happen to a regular head to grow weak with having strength crammed into it. Didst repose well here at the goatherd's, Agnes ?

Agnes. Trust me, did I; but it had better pleased me had you not sat and watched in the corner of the hut, while I rested

Sadi. I could watch twenty years, like a cat, to see you sleep so sweetly. What a pretty thing it is to be near the

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