_Emp._ Had we but lasting youth, and time to spare, Some might be thrown away on fame and war; But youth, the perishing good, runs on too fast, And, unenjoyed, will spend itself to waste; Few know the use of life before 'tis past. Had I once more thy vigour to command, I would not let it die upon my hand: No hour of pleasure should pass empty by; Youth should watch joys, and shoot them as they fly. _Mor._ Methinks, all pleasure is in greatness found. Kings, like heaven's eye, should spread their beams around, Pleased to be seen, while glory's race they run: Rest is not for the chariot of the sun. Subjects are stiff-necked animals; they soon Feel slackened reins, and pitch their rider down. _Emp._ To thee that drudgery of power I give: Cares be thy lot: Reign thou, and let me live. The fort I'll keep for my security; Business and public state resign to thee. _Mor._ Luxurious kings are to their people lost: They live, like drones, upon the public cost. My arms from pole to pole the world shall shake, And, with myself, keep all mankind awake. _Emp._ Believe me, son, and needless trouble spare; 'Tis a base world, and is not worth our care: The vulgar, a scarce animated clod, Ne'er pleased with aught above them, prince or God. Were I a God, the drunken globe should roll, The little emmetts with the human soul Care for themselves, while at my ease I sat, And second causes did the work of fate; Or, if I would take care, that care should be For wit that scorned the world, and lived like me. _To them,_ NOURMAHAL, ZAYDA, _and Attendants._ _Nour._ My dear Morat, [_Embracing her son._ This day propitious to us all has been: You're now a monarch's heir, and I a queen. Your faithful father now may quit the state, And find the ease he sought, indulged by fate. Cares shall not keep him on the throne awake, Nor break the golden slumbers he would take. _Emp._ In vain I struggled to the gaol of life, While rebel-sons, and an imperious wife, Still dragged me backward into noise and strife. _Mor._ Be that remembrance lost; and be it my pride To be your pledge of peace on either side. _To them,_ AURENG-ZEBE. _Aur._ With all the assurance innocence can bring, Fearless without, 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.