s course must steer:
I bade him love, I bid him now forbear.
If you have any kindness for him still,
Advise him not to shock a father's will.

_Ind._ Must I advise?
Then let me see him, and I'll try to obey.

_Emp._ I had forgot, and dare not trust your way.
But send him word,
He has not here an army to command:
Remember, he and you are in my hand.

_Ind._ Yes, in a father's hand, whom he has served,
And, with the hazard of his life, preserved.
But piety to you, unhappy prince,
Becomes a crime, and duty an offence;
Against yourself you with your foes combine,
And seem your own destruction to design.

_Emp._ You may be pleased your politics to spare;
I'm old enough, and can myself take care.

_Ind._ Advice from me was, I confess, too bold:
You're old enough; it may be, sir, too old.

_Emp._ You please yourself with your contempt of age;
But love, neglected, will convert to rage.
If on your head my fury does not turn,
Thank that fond dotage which so much you scorn;
But, in another's person, you may prove,
There's warmth for vengeance left, though not for love.

_Re-enter_ ARIMANT.

_Arim._ The empress has the antichambers past,
And this way moves with a disordered haste:
Her brows the stormy marks of anger bear.

_Emp._ Madam, retire; she must not find you here.
[_Exit_ INDAMORA _with_ ARIMANT.

_Enter_ NOURMAHAL _hastily._

_Nour._ What have I done, that Nourmahal must prove
The scorn and triumph of a rival's love?
My eyes are still the same; each glance, each grace,
Keep their first lustre, and maintain their place;
Not second yet to any other face.

_Emp._ What rage transports you? Are you well awake?
Such dreams distracted minds in fevers make.

_Nour._ Those fevers you have given, those dreams have bred,
By broken faith, and an abandoned bed.
Such visions hourly pass before my sight,
Which from my eyes their balmy slumbers fright,
In the severest silence of the night;
Visions, which in this citadel are seen,--
Bright glorious visions of a rival queen.

_Emp._ Have patience,--my first flames can ne'er decay;
These are but dreams, and soon will pass away;
Thou know'st, my heart, my empire, all is thine.
In thy own heaven of love serenely shine;
Fair as the face of nature did appear,
When flowers first peep'd, and trees did blossoms bear,
And winter had not yet deformed the inverted year;
Calm as the breath which fans our eastern groves,
And brigh