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They did:

       But O the friendship of our early years

       Soon takes its flight: he loved me once, and still

       This heart retains a brother’s kindness for him:

       I cannot hate him, though he conquered me.

      emar.

       He knows not yet how great a captive comes

       To grace his triumph; knows not that a brother

       Is in his power, whom vengeance had inspired.

      vamir.

       No: Emar, never did a thought of vengeance

       Enter my heart; a different passion swayed

       The soul of Vamir: can it be, just heaven!

       Or is it but the lying voice of fame,

       That my Amelia’s false, that she has broke

       Her solemn vows? for whom, too? added guilt

       To her, and double sorrow to thy friend!

       The sacred laws of nature, and the ties

       Of tender love, all broken, all betrayed!

       Unjust, inhuman brother!

      emar.

       Knows he then

       How dear a treasure he hath robbed thee of

       In thy Amelia? did not Vamir say

       That he was still a stranger to thy love?

      vamir.

       But she is not: she knows what solemn ties,

       What strict engagements, bound us to each other:

       That at the altar, ere we had confirmed

       Our mutual vows, the barbarous Moor rushed in,

       And tore her from me; the base ravishers

       Escaped my vengeance, and my happier brother

       Enjoys the precious treasure Vamir lost

       Ungrateful woman! came I here, my friend,

       But to reproach her? what will it avail?

       She will not listen to my fond complaint:

       But to my royal master I have lived

       A faithful servant, and to false Amelia,

       And faithful will I die: when she shall know

       How well I loved her, she may shed a tear,

       And in a brother’s arms lament my fate.

      emar.

       Repress thy sorrows; see, the duke approaches.

      vamir.

       Be still, my heart.

      SCENE IV.

       Table of Contents

      duke of foix, vamir, emar.

      duke.

       This mystery alarms me:

       But I must see this noble captive: ha!

       He turns aside with horror.

      vamir.

       Hateful life!

       Must I support thee still? must I again

       Behold the faithless wretch?

      duke.

       What do I hear?

      vamir.

       Dost thou not know me?

      duke.

       Ha! my brother! Vamir!

      vamir.

       Alas! too sure I am that wretched brother,

       Thy vanquished foe, a poor abandoned captive.

      duke.

       Thou art my brother still, and I forgive thee;

       But ’tis most strange, and most unnatural:

       Could the king find no instrument but thee

       To execute his vengeance on my head?

       What had I done to Vamir?

      vamir.

       Made his life

       Unhappy: would that thou hadst taken it from me!

      duke.

       Dreadful effects of civil strife!

      vamir.

       More dreadful

       Are the deep wounds that pierce the heart of Vamir.

      duke.

       Against another foe I might have shown

       A soldier’s courage, but I pity thee.

      vamir.

       Pity thyself, the wretch who has betrayed

       His country, and deceived the king that loved him;

       A traitor, and unworthy of thy race.

      duke.

       Brand me not, Vamir, with opprobrious name

       Of traitor, lest I should forget myself,

       And spurn thee for the insult: no, my brother,

       I’m not that base, ungrateful wretch thou thinkest me;

       Thou seest me ready to restore fair peace,

       And heal the wounds of my divided country.

      vamir.

       Thou heal our wounds! thou—

      duke.

       Yes: the day that seemed

       So fatal to thy peace shall quench the flames

       Of public discord, and unite us all.

      vamir.

       O ’tis a day of sorrow.

      duke.

       Of delight

       And joy, the day that crowns my wishes—

      vamir.

       How!

      duke.

       Yes, Vamir, all is changed, and I am happy.

      vamir.

       It may be so: I heard indeed thy heart

       These three months past has been the slave of love;

       And if report say true, most violent

       And fierce thy passion.

      duke.

       Thou hast heard aright;

       I love her even to madness: thou art come

       In happy hour to make our bliss complete.

       Yes: I will lay my friends, my foes, my every claim,

       Revenge and glory, all beneath her feet.

       Go, tell her two unhappy brothers, long

       [To his attendants.

       By adverse fate to different interests bound,

       Wait but a look from her to be united.

       [To Vamir.

       Blame not my passion, Vamir, when thou seest

       The lovely object, soon thou wilt approve it.

      vamir.

       [Aside.

       And does she love thee? cruel thought!

      duke.

       At least

       She ought: one obstacle alone remained,

       And that