And this is my reward-to burn, to languish,
To rave unheeded; while the happy Greek,
The refuse of our swords, the dross of our conquest,
Throws his fond arms about Aspasia's neck,
Dwells on her lips, and sighs upon her breast,
Is 't not enough he lives by our indulgence,
But he must live to make his masters wretched?
What claim hast thou to plead?
Th' unquestion'd claim of conquerors and kings!
Yet in the use of pow'r remember justice,
Can then th' assassin lift his treach'rous hand
Against his king, and cry, remember justice?
Justice demands the forfeit life of Cali;
Justice demands that I reveal your crimes;
Justice demands-but see th' approaching sultan !
Oppose my wishes, and-remember justice.
Disorder sits upon thy face-retire.
[Exit Abdalla, enter Mahomet.
Long be the Sultan bless'd with happy love!
My zeal marks gladness dawning on thy cheek,
With raptures such as fire the Pagan crowds,
When, pale and anxious for their years to come,
They see the sun surmount the dark eclipse,
And hait unanimous their conqu'ring god.
My vows, 'tis true, she hears with less aversion
She sighs, she blushes, but she still denies.
With warmer courtship press the yielding fair;
Call to your aid, with boundless promises,
Each rebel wish, each traitor inclination,
That raises tumults in the female breast,
The love of pow'r, of pleasure, and of show.
These arts I try'd, and to inflame her more,
By hateful business, hurried from her sight,
I bade a hundred virgins wait around her,
Sooth her with all the pleasures of command,
Applaud her charms, and court her to be great.
[Exit Mahomet.
He's gone-Here rest, my soul, thy fainting wing,
Here recollect thy dissipated pow'rs.
Our distant int'rests, and our different passions,
Now haste to mingle in one common centre,
And fate lies crowded in a narrow space,
Yet in that narrow space what dangers rise!-
Far more I dread Abdalla's fiery folly,
Than all the wisdom of the grave divan.
Reason with reason fights on equal terms;
The raging madman's unconnected schemes
We cannot obviate, for we cannot guess.
Deep in my breast be treasur'd this resolve,
When Cali mounts the throne, Abdalla dies,
Too fierce, too faithless, for neglect or trust.
[Enter Irene with Attendants.
CALI, IRENE, ASPASIA, &c.
Amidst the splendour of encircling beauty,
Superiour majesty proclaims thee queen,
And nature justifies our monarch's choice,
Reserve this homage for some other fair;
Urge ine not on to glitt'ring guilt, nor pour
In my weak ear th' intoxicating sounds.
Make haste, bright maid, to rule the willing world; Aw'd by the rigour of the Sultan's justice,
Concur to press a hapless captive's ruin?
Long would my zeal for Mahomet and thee
Detain me here. But nations call upon me,
And duty bids me choose a distant walk,
Nor taint with care the privacies of love.
IRENE ASPASIA, attendants.
If yet this shining pomp, these sudden honours,
Swell not thy soul beyond advice or friendship,
Nor yet inspire the follies of a queen,
Or tune thine ear to soothing adulation,
Suspend awhile the privilege of pow'r
To hear the voice of Truth; dismiss thy train,
Shake off th' encumbrances of state a moment,
And lay the tow'ring sultaness aside,
[Irene signs to her attendants to retire.
While I foretel thy fate; that office done,
No more I boast th' ambitious name of friend,
But sink among thy slaves without a murmur.
Did regal diadems invest my brow,
Yet should my soul, still faithful to her choice,
Esteem Aspasia's breast the noblest kingdom.
The soul, once tainted with so foul a crime,
No more shall glow with friendship's hallow'd ardour:
Those holy Beings, whose superiour care
Guides erring mortals to the paths of virtue,
Affrighted at impiety like thine,
Resign their charge to baseness and to ruin.
Upbraid me not with fancied wickedness;
I am not yet a queen or an apoștate.
But should I sin beyond the hope of mercy,
If, when religion prompts me to refuse,
The dread of instant death restrains my tongue?
Reflect that life and death, affecting sounds!
Are only varied modes of endless being;
Reflect that life, like ev'ry other blessing,
Derives its value from its use alone;
Not for itself, but for a nobler end,
Th' Eternal gave it, and that end is virtue.
When inconsistent with a greater good,
Reason commands to cast the less away;
Thus life, with loss of wealth is well preserv'd,
And virtue cheaply sav'd with loss of life.
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