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DEMETRIUs. Farewell, unhappy maid : may every joy Be thine, that wealth can give, or guilt receive! AsPASIA. And when, contemptuous of imperial pow'r, Disease shall chase the phantoms of ambition, May penitence attend thy mournful bed, And wing thy latest prayer to pitying Heav'n' [Ereunt Dem. Asp, with part of the Attendants.
[IRENE walks at a distance from her attendants.] After a pause.
Against the head, which innocence secures,
SCENE VII. [Enter MUSTAPHA, meeting and stopping her.] - MUSTAPHA. Fair Falsehood, stay. - e IRENE. . What dream of sudden power Has taught my slave the language of command! Henceforth be wise, nor hope a second pardon. MustAPHA. Who calls for pardon from a wretch condemn'd? IRENE. Thy look, thy speech, thy action, all is wildness— Who charges guilt on me? . MUSTA PHA. Who charges guilt! . Ask of thy heart; attend the voice of Conscience— Who charges guilt! lay by this proud resentment. That fires thy cheek, and elevates thy mien, Nor thus usurp the dignity of virtue. Review this day. +. IRENE. * Whate'er thy accusation, The Sultan is my judge. * - X 2
MUSTA PHA. That hope is past; Hard was the strife of justice and of love; But now 'tis o'er, and justice has prevail’d. Know'st thou not Calif know'st thou not Demetrius:
- I RENE. Bold slave, I know them both—I know them traitors.
Perfidious ! – yes—too well thou know'st them
The Sultan knows it, He knows how near apostasy to treason— But 'tis not mine to judge—I scorn and leave thee. I go, lest vengeance urge my hand to blood, To blood too mean to stain a soldier's Sabre. * [Erit Mustapha.
IRENE, to her attendants.
Go, blustring slave—He has not heard of Murza.
Enter HASAN, CARAzA, with Mutes, who throw the black robe upon IRENE, and sign to her attendants to withdraw.
IRENE. What wild mistake is this Take hence with speed Your robe of mourning, and your dogs of death. Quick from my sight, you inauspicious monsters, Nor dare henceforth to shock Irene's walks.
Alas! they come commanded by the Sultan,
Are these the rapid thunderbolts of war,
CARAZA. We come, bright Virgin, though relenting Nature Shrinks at the hated task, for thy destruction; When summon'd by the Sultan's clam’rous fury, We ask'd with tim’rous tongue th' offender's name, He struck his tortur’d breast, and roar'd, Irene. We started at the sound, again inquir’d; Again his thund'ring voice return'd, Irene,
Some ill-designing statesman's base intrigue!