thout, because secure within,
Armed with my courage, unconcerned I see
This pomp; a shame to you, a pride to me.
Shame is but where with wickedness 'tis joined;
And, while no baseness in this breast I find,
I have not lost the birth-right of my mind.

_Emp._ Children, the blind effect of love and chance,
Formed by their sportive parents' ignorance,
Bear from their birth the impressions of a slave;
Whom heaven for play-games first, and then for service gave:
One then may be displaced, and one may reign,
And want of merit render birth-right vain.

_Mor._ Comes he to upbraid us with his innocence?
Seize him, and take the preaching Brachman hence.

_Aur._ Stay, sir!--I from my years no merit plead: [_To his Father._
All my designs and acts to duty lead.
Your life and glory are my only end;
And for that prize I with Morat contend.

_Mor._ Not him alone: I all mankind defy.
Who dares adventure more for both than I?

_Aur._ I know you brave, and take you at your word:
That present service, which you vaunt, afford.
Our two rebellious brothers are not dead:
Though vanquished, yet again they gather head.
I dare you, as your rival in renown,
March out your army from the imperial town:
Chuse whom you please, the other leave to me;
And set our father absolutely free.
This, if you do, to end all future strife,
I am content to lead a private life;
Disband my army, to secure the state,
Nor aim at more, but leave the rest to fate.

_Mor._ I'll do it.--Draw out my army on the plain!
War is to me a pastime, peace a pain.

_Emp._ Think better first.-- [_To_ MOR.
You see yourself enclosed beyond escape, [_To_ AUR.
And, therefore, Proteus-like, you change your shape;
Of promise prodigal, while power you want,
And preaching in the self-denying cant.

_Mor._ Plot better; for these arts too obvious are,
Of gaming time, the master-piece of war.
Is Aureng-Zebe so known?

_Aur._ If acts like mine,
So far from interest, profit, or design,
Can show my heart, by those I would be known:
I wish you could as well defend your own.
My absent army for my father fought:
Yours, in these walls, is to enslave him brought.
If I come singly, you an armed guest,
The world with ease may judge whose cause is best.

_Mor._ My father saw you ill designs pursue;
And my admission showed his fear of you.

_Aur._ Himself best knows why he his love withdraws:
I owe him more than to declare the