transmigration be,
Some bear, or lion, is reserved for thee.

_Mor._ Take heed thou com'st not in that lion's way!
I prophecy, thou wilt thy soul convey
Into a lamb, and be again my prey.--
Hence with that dreaming priest!

_Nour._ Let me prepare
The poisonous draught: His death shall be my care.
Near my apartment let him prisoner be,
That I his hourly ebbs of life may see.

_Aur._ My life I would not ransom with a prayer:
'Tis vile, since 'tis not worth my father's care.
I go not, sir, indebted to my grave:
You paid yourself, and took the life you gave. [_Exit._

_Emp._ O that I had more sense of virtue left, [_Aside._
Or were of that, which yet remains, bereft!
I've just enough to know how I offend,
And, to my shame, have not enough to mend.
Lead to the mosque.--

_Mor._ Love's pleasures, why should dull devotion stay?
Heaven to my Melesinda's but the way.
[_Exeunt Emperor,_ MORAT, _and train._

_Zayd._ Sure Aureng-Zebe has somewhat of divine,
Whose virtue through so dark a cloud can shine.
Fortune has from Morat this day removed
The greatest rival, and the best beloved.

_Nour._ He is not yet removed.

_Zayd._ He lives, 'tis true;
But soon must die, and, what I mourn, by you.

_Nour._ My Zayda, may thy words prophetic be!
[_Embracing her eagerly._
I take the omen; let him die by me!
He, stifled in my arms, shall lose his breath;
And life itself shall envious be of death.

_Zayd._ Bless me, you powers above!

_Nour._ Why dost thou start?
Is love so strange? Or have not I a heart?
Could Aureng-Zebe so lovely seem to thee,
And I want eyes that noble worth to see?
Thy little soul was but to wonder moved:
My sense of it was higher, and I loved.
That man, that god-like man, so brave, so great--
But these are thy small praises I repeat.
I'm carried by a tide of love away:
He's somewhat more than I myself can say,

_Zayd._ Though all the ideas you can form be true,
He must not, cannot, be possessed by you.
If contradicting interests could be mixt,
Nature herself has cast a bar betwixt;
And, ere you reach to this incestuous love,
You must divine and human rights remove.

_Nour._ Count this among the wonders love has done:
I had forgot he was my husband's son.

_Zayd._ Nay, more, you have forgot who is your own:
For whom your care so long designed the throne.
Morat must fall, if Aureng-Zebe