send your votaries back to curse the hour they broke the laws of Alla, by seeking one that had not power to help them? Canst thou not foretell the fate of Mahmound? Ulin. Prince, I cannot.

Djez. How!

Ulin. But I will raise spirits from the abyss of darkness, who shall answer thee, if thou hast courage to question them.

Djez. Command them hither-Djezzar knows not fear. (Ulin performs her incantations, and a spirit rises.) Ülin. It comes-speak quickly, it shall answer ye. Djez. Now then to lift the veil that shrouds the fate of Palestine. Say, shall Saladine's arms be victorious? Shall he subdue the Christian?

Spirit. Britain's star triumphant rides,

On the spangled zone of heaven ;

To bear the palm from Palestine,

To her warlike prince 'tis given.-(disappears.)

Diez. Eternal curses blast thee! Where is it fled?
Ulin. Peace. (second spirit rises.)

Djez. Now, say the fate of Ali Mahmound. How long shall I listen to the endless praises of a son I hate? Shall he never be conquered?

2nd Spirit. O'er the bosom of the deep, I see a gallant vessel sweep;

On its deck in quaint disguise,

Ali Mahmound's conqueror lies.-(disap.)

Djez. Thanks, gentle spirit. Is it gone too?
Ulin. Another yet.-(third spirit rises.)

Djez. My daughters, what of them? Mahomet knows they are doubly dear to me. Shall they live to bless me? 3rd Spirit. Fate decrees that both shall be

8

Borne away in willing bands,

Far from Palestine and thee,

Into distant Christian lands.-(disap.)

Djez. Detested augurer, would thou wert mortal, that I might choke thee with the abhorred lie!

Ulin. Djezzar.

Djez. Nay speak not, hag, monster, thou compound of age and ugliness, witch, sorceress; may pestilence stop thy venomed breath. Oh, I could curse thee, and thy spells for ever.

Ulin. Farewell, prince-and when ye need my aid again,

ye'll seek me.

[Exit.

Mes. My lord, the shades of evening are descending. Djez. Away, away, then.

SCENE II. The Sea Shore.

[Exeunt.

Enter Sir HUGH DE CLIFFORD, Sir WILLIAM MONTFORT, GEOFFRY, OSWALD, and MATILDA in boy's clothes.

Sir W. Cheer, Edwin, we are safely landed at last. Matil. Ah! but on an inhospitable shore, I fear. Sir Hugh. Yes, truly, for I see no vestige of a human being. By St. Peter, I believe we have escaped shipwreck only to die by famine.

Geoff. Oswald, look yonder, I think I discern a light. Oswald. The distance deceives me or 'tis one.

Sir W. By St. Paul you are sight, Geoffry. Come, Edwin, let's direct our steps that way.

Matil. Seek your own safety, my friend, nor waste your cares on me.

Song by MATILDA.

Amid these rocks, whose hollow dells
Shall echo my last sigh,

Weary, dispirited, and sad,

I'll lay me down and die.

Sir Hugh. Come, come, this weakness ill suits the enterprize you have embarked in. Sure you never expect to be a hero. How will you charge the Saracen, if thus you shrink from toil?

Sir W. Forbear, Sir Knight; consider Edwin's youth -see, he is almost fainting with fatigue.

Sir Hugh. True, we have climbed a rocky shore indeed-give me your arm, Edwin, lean on me, I'll support you onward. [Exit the Knight and Matil. Geoff. Oswald, what think ye of this? I can't but laugh to see her trying to hide her form under that pretty plaid-faith she is a delicate creature.

Oswald. Geoffry, take a friend's advice, and think no more of her.

Geoff. Of whom?

Oswald. Of our Fair Crusader, to be sure-it may be dangerous, you know.

Geoff. What is the meaning of all this logic?

Oswald. That you are in love.

Geoff. Ha, ha-how long have you suspected this?
Oswald. Ever since you suspected Edwin's sex.

Geoff. What a genius thou hast! What penetration ! I am in love.

Oswald. I knew it.

Geoff. The object of my love is, I fear, unattainable.
Oswald. I am sure of it.

Geoff. So much the worse for

Oswald. How?

you.

Geoff. Because I am in love with a good supper.
Oswald. I follow my master.

Geoff. And I mine, for fear he gets any thing that I have not my share of-by my good will he shall not. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. In the Castle of Djezzar.

Lady MARGARET and JANET.

Lady Mar. Janet, have you enquired who is that graceful stranger that is arrived.

Jan. I had no need to enquire, my lady, for every slave was eager to announce his arrival, and very glad to persuade any one to listen to them while they talked of the happiness he would diffuse through this old castle; for my part, I can have no idea of pleasure here; and was I mistress of the poorest hovel in Scotland, I'd not exchange it for this uncouth heathenish place.

Lady Mar. What is his name?

Jan. Ali Mahmound-I think that is it, my lady; but they have such cramp names,

Lady Mar. Why comes he here?

Jun. Oh, he is the son of Djezzar, but no more like him than

Lady Mar. Oh, then you met him, did you?

Jan. Yes indeed, my lady; and I looked him full in the face.

Lady Mar. And he is very handsome, Janet?

Jan. Yes, if it were not for those queer things, I don't know what they call them, on his face. Lady Mar. Mustachios.

Jan. Aye, that's what I mean, my lady; and then he smiles so kindly on all he meets. I've thought some of the slaves were stiff in the joints when I've seen them bending to the old prince, but they're as supple as a glove before Ali Mahmound-what an outlandish name!

Lady Mar. Ah, Janet, why did I trust my eyes? why did you tempt me to witness the procession to meet the matchless form of Ali Mahmound?

Jan. Gracious, my lady, sure you would not love a Saracen !

Lady Mar. 'Tis too late to retract now.

Jan. What will my lord say?

Lady Mar. He is yet exposed to the Saracens' swords, and may fall.

Jan. The virgin preserve him!-I mean your ladyship. Lady Mar. Go and learn all you can of Ali Mahmound, if he remains long in the castle? ask all the questions you can think of, and then return to me.

Jan. Yes, my lady..

[Exit Janet. Lady Mar. Go, and return quickly. Heavens,, what a chaos of hopes and fears o'erwhelm my brain-I dare not trust reflection.

Song-Lady MARGARET.

Ah, who can paint the burning tears,
The heart-distracting sighs,

The anguish that full oft conceal'd
In woman's bosom lies;

Compell❜d to own a sway where fond
Affection cannot bend,

And fate to rack her tortur'd soul,
A hopeless passion sends.

[Re-enter JANET.]

Jan. Oh, my lady! my lady! he is here, his own dear self-come and look out at the outer court-make hasteat this window. Oh, there he is gone past, and you never saw him.

Lady Mar. What, Ali Mahmound?

Jan. Oh no, my lady, 'tis my lord himself, among the Christian prisoners.

Lady Mar. My husband! Oh, oh, I faint-Janet !— (faints,)

*

Jan. Oh dear, what shall I do?-My lady-Lady Margaret-she revives.

Lady Mar. (Recovering.) Janet.

Jan. My lady, let me support you to the window-a little air perhaps

Lady Mar. Oh, Janet, you have murdered me-I cannot bear it-is he really here?

Jan. What shall I say. (aside.) Yes, my Lady, but he's a prisoner, you know.

too.

Lady Mar. True, he knows not that I am a prisoner

Jan. And then, I dare say he'll be put into a dungeon, if nothing worse befals him.

Lady Mar. But what of Ali Mahmound? Jan. Aye, there now, he goes away again to-morrow to the Saracens' camp.

occurs to me.

Lady Mar. Indeed! That's fortunate-a thought [Exit Lady Mar. Jan. Well, I thank my stars I was not born a great lady and forced to marry against my will. Poor lady, she is in love with this heathen. The Holy Virgin and St. Peter be my guard! I am sorry for my lord for all that; but the men may thank themselves, 'tis their own seeking. Song. JANET.

Bachelors who mean to wed,
Let not riches lure ye

To take a maiden to your bride,
Who can't perhaps endure ye.
Parents too be wise in time,

Nor slight this simple caution,
Titles may gild, but genuine worth
Outweighs the nuptial portion.

[Exit.

SCENE IV. Enter DJEZZAR, ALI MAHMOUND, ACHMET, MESROUR, &c.

Ali Mah. Thus then I have your permission to dispose of my prisoners.

Djez. They are yours; do as you will.

Ali Mah. The Christians are tenacious of their honor, I would have them prisoners at large. Alla alone "can' tell, but I may one day be in their power, and if they treat me harshly, 'tis not from that they shall boast a precedent.