Bribe to his cause, and list beneath his banners,
Arabia’s roving troops, the sons of swiftness,
And arm the Persian heretick against thee;
There shall he waste thy frontiers, check thy conquests,
And, though at length subdued, elude thy vengeance.
MAHOMET.
Elude my vengeance! No — My troops shall range
Th’ eternal snows that freeze beyond Maeotis,
And Africk’s torrid sands, in search of Cali.
Should the fierce north, upon his frozen wings,
Bear him aloft, above the wond’ring clouds,
And seat him in the pleiads’ golden chariots,
Thence shall my fury drag him down to tortures;
Wherever guilt can fly, revenge can follow.
MUSTAPHA.
Wilt thou dismiss the savage from the toils,
Only to hunt him round the ravag’d world?
MAHOMET.
Suspend his sentence — Empire and Irene
Claim my divided soul. This wretch, unworthy
To mix with nobler cares, I’ll throw aside
For idle hours, and crush him at my leisure.
MUSTAPHA.
Let not th’ unbounded greatness of his mind
Betray my king to negligence of danger.
Perhaps, the clouds of dark conspiracy
Now roll, full fraught with thunder, o’er your head.
Twice, since the morning rose, I saw the bassa,
Like a fell adder swelling in a brake,
Beneath the covert of this verdant arch,
In private conference; beside him stood
Two men unknown, the partners of his bosom;
I mark’d them well, and trac’d in either face
The gloomy resolution, horrid greatness,
And stern composure, of despairing heroes;
And, to confirm my thoughts, at sight of me,
As blasted by my presence, they withdrew,
With all the speed of terrour and of guilt.
MAHOMET.
The strong emotions of my troubled soul
Allow no pause for art or for contrivance;
And dark perplexity distracts my counsels.
Do thou resolve: for, see, Irene comes!
At her approach each ruder gust of thought
Sinks, like the sighing of a tempest spent,
And gales of softer passion fan my bosom.
[Cali enters with Irene, and exit [Transcriber’s note: sic] with
Mustapha.
SCENE VII.
MAHOMET, IRENE.
MAHOMET.
Wilt thou descend, fair daughter of perfection,
To hear my vows, and give mankind a queen?
Ah! cease, Irene, cease those flowing sorrows,
That melt a heart impregnable till now,
And turn thy thoughts, henceforth, to love and empire.
How will the matchless beauties of Irene,
Thus bright in tears, thus amiable in ruin,
With all the graceful pride of greatness heighten’d,
Amidst the blaze of jewels and of gold,
Adorn a throne, and dignify dominion!
IRENE.
Why all this glare of splendid eloquence,
To paint the pageantries of guilty state?
Must I, for these, renounce the hope of heav’n,
Immortal crowns, and fulness of enjoyment?
MAHOMET.
Vain raptures all — For your inferiour natures,
Form’d to delight, and happy by delighting,
Heav’n has reserv’d no future paradise,
But bids you rove the paths of bliss, secure
Of total death, and careless of hereafter;
While heaven’s high minister, whose awful volume
Records each act, each thought of sov’reign man,
Surveys your plays with inattentive glance,
And leaves the lovely trifler unregarded.
IRENE.
Why then has nature’s vain munificence
Profusely pour’d her bounties upon woman?
Whence, then, those charms thy tongue has deign’d to flatter,
That air resistless, and enchanting blush,
Unless the beauteous fabrick was design’d
A habitation for a fairer soul?
MAHOMET.
Too high, bright maid, thou rat’st exteriour grace:
Not always do the fairest flow’rs diffuse
The richest odours, nor the speckled shells
Conceal the gem; let female arrogance
Observe the feather’d wand’rers of the sky;
With purple varied, and bedrop’d with gold,
They prune the wing, and spread the glossy plumes,
Ordain’d, like you, to flutter and to shine,
And cheer the weary passenger with musick.
IRENE.
Mean as we are, this tyrant of the world
Implores our smiles, and trembles at our feet.
Whence flow the hopes and fears, despair and rapture,
Whence all the bliss and agonies of love?
MAHOMET.
Why, when the balm of sleep descends on man,
Do gay delusions, wand’ring o’er the brain,
Sooth the delighted soul with empty bliss?
To want, give affluence? and to slav’ry, freedom?
Such are love’s joys, the lenitives of life,
A fancy’d treasure, and a waking dream.
IRENE.
Then let me once, in honour of our sex,
Assume the boastful arrogance of man.
Th’ attractive softness, and th’ endearing smile,
And pow’rful glance, ’tis granted, are our own;
Nor has impartial nature’s frugal hand
Exhausted all her nobler gifts on you.
Do not we share the comprehensive thought,
Th’ enlivening wit, the penetrating reason?
Beats not the female breast with gen’rous passions,
The thirst of empire, and the love of glory?
MAHOMET.
Illustrious maid, new wonders fix me thine;
Thy soul completes the triumphs of thy face.
I thought (forgive, my fair,) the noblest aim,
The strongest effort of a female soul,
Was but to choose the graces of the day;
To tune the tongue, to teach the eyes to roll,
Dispose the colours of the flowing robe,
And add new roses to the faded cheek.
Will it not charm a mind, like thine, exalted,
To shine, the goddess of applauding nations;
To scatter happiness and plenty round thee,
To bid the prostrate captive rise and live,
To see new cities tow’r, at thy command,
And blasted kingdoms flourish, at thy smile?
IRENE.
Charm’d with the thought of blessing human kind,
Too calm I listen to the flatt’ring sounds.
MAHOMET.
O! seize the power to bless — Irene’s nod
Shall break the fetters of the groaning Christian;
Greece, in her lovely patroness secure,
Shall mourn no more her plunder’d palaces.
IRENE.
Forbear — O! do not urge me to my ruin!
MAHOMET.
To state and pow’r I court thee, not to ruin:
Smile on my wishes, and command the globe.
Security shall spread her shield before thee,
And love infold thee with his downy wings.
If greatness please thee, mount th’ imperial seat;
If pleasure charm thee, view this soft retreat;
Here ev’ry warbler of the sky shall sing;
Here ev’ry fragrance breathe of ev’ry spring:
To deck these bow’rs each region shall combine,
And e’en
our prophet’s gardens envy thine:
Empire and love shall share the blissful day,
And varied life steal, unperceiv’d, away.
[Exeunt.
ACT III. — SCENE I.
CALI, ABDALLA.
[CALI enters, with a discontented air; to him enters ABDALLA.]
CALI.
Is this the fierce conspirator, Abdalla?
Is this the restless diligence of treason?
Where hast thou linger’d, while th’ incumber’d hours
Fly, lab’ring with the fate of future nations,
And hungry slaughter scents imperial blood?
ABDALLA.
Important cares detain’d me from your counsels.
CALI.
Some petty passion! some domestick trifle!
Some vain amusement of a vacant soul!
A weeping wife, perhaps, or dying friend,
Hung on your neck, and hinder’d your departure.
Is this a time for softness or for sorrow?
Unprofitable, peaceful, female virtues!
When eager vengeance shows a naked foe,
And kind ambition points the way to greatness.
ABDALLA.
Must then ambition’s votaries infringe
The laws of kindness, break the bonds of nature,
And quit the names of brother, friend, and father?
CALI.
This sov’reign passion, scornful of restraint,
E’en from the birth, affects supreme command,
Swells in the breast, and, with resistless force,
O’erbears each gentler motion of the mind:
As, when a deluge overspreads the plains,
The wand’ring rivulet, and silver lake,
Mix undistinguish’d with the gen’ral roar.
ABDALLA.
Yet can ambition, in Abdalla’s breast,
Claim but the second place: there mighty love
Has fix’d his hopes, inquietudes, and fears,
His glowing wishes, and his jealous pangs.
CALI.
Love is, indeed, the privilege of youth;
Yet, on a day like this, when expectation
Pants for the dread event — But let us reason —
ABDALLA.
Hast thou grown old, amidst the crowd of courts,
And turn’d th’ instructive page of human life,
To cant, at last, of reason to a lover?
Such ill-tim’d gravity, such serious folly,
Might well befit the solitary student,
Th’ unpractis’d dervis, or sequester’d faquir.
Know’st thou not yet, when love invades the soul,
That all her faculties receive his chains?
That reason gives her sceptre to his hand,
Or only struggles to be more enslav’d?
Aspasia, who can look upon thy beauties?
Who hear thee speak, and not abandon reason?
Reason! the hoary dotard’s dull directress,
That loses all, because she hazards nothing!
Reason! the tim’rous pilot, that, to shun
The rocks of life, for ever flies the port!
CALI.
But why this sudden warmth?
ABDALLA.
Because I love:
Because my slighted passion burns in vain!
Why roars the lioness, distress’d by hunger?
Why foam the swelling waves, when tempests rise?
Why shakes the ground, when subterraneous fires
Fierce through the bursting caverns rend their way?
CALI.
Not till this day, thou saw’st this fatal fair;
Did ever passion make so swift a progress?
Once more reflect; suppress this infant folly.
ABDALLA.
Gross fires, enkindled by a mortal hand,
Spread, by degrees, and dread th’ oppressing stream;
The subtler flames, emitted from the sky,
Flash out at once, with strength above resistance.
CALI.
How did Aspasia welcome your address?
Did you proclaim this unexpected conquest?
Or pay, with speaking eyes, a lover’s homage?
ABDALLA.
Confounded, aw’d, and lost in admiration,
I gaz’d, I trembled; but I could not speak;
When e’en, as love was breaking off from wonder,
And tender accents quiver’d on my lips,
She mark’d my sparkling eyes, and heaving breast,
And smiling, conscious of her charms, withdrew.
[Enter Demetrius and Leontius.
CALI.
Now be, some moments, master of thyself;
Nor let Demetrius know thee for a rival.
Hence! or be calm — To disagree is ruin.
SCENE II.
CALI, DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, ABDALLA.
DEMETRIUS.
When will occasion smile upon our wishes,
And give the tortures of suspense a period?
Still must we linger in uncertain hope?
Still languish in our chains, and dream of freedom,
Like thirsty sailors gazing on the clouds,
Till burning death shoots through their wither’d limbs?
CALI.
Deliverance is at hand; for Turkey’s tyrant,
Sunk in his pleasures, confident and gay,
With all the hero’s dull security,
Trusts to my care his mistress and his life,
And laughs, and wantons in the jaws of death.
LEONTIUS.
So weak is man, when destin’d to destruction! —
The watchful slumber, and the crafty trust.
CALI.
At my command, yon iron gates unfold;
At my command, the sentinels retire;
With all the license of authority,
Through bowing slaves, I range the private rooms,
And of to-morrow’s action fix the scene.
DEMETRIUS.
To-morrow’s action! Can that hoary wisdom,
Borne down with years, still dote upon to-morrow?
That fatal mistress of the young, the lazy,
The coward, and the fool, condemn’d to lose
An useless life, in waiting for to-morrow,
To gaze with longing eyes upon to-morrow,
Till interposing death destroys the prospect!
Strange! that this gen’ral fraud, from day to day,
Should fill the world with wretches undetected.
The soldier, lab’ring through a winter’s march,
Still sees to-morrow drest in robes of triumph;
Still to the lover’s long-expecting arms
To-morrow brings the visionary bride.
But thou, too old to bear another cheat,
Learn, that the present hour alone is man’s.
LEONTIUS.
The present hour, with open arms, invites;
Seize the kind fair, and press her to thy bosom.
DEMETRIUS.
Who knows, ere this important morrow rise,
But fear or mutiny may taint the Greeks?
Who knows, if Mahomet’s awaking anger
May spare the fatal bowstring till to-morrow?
ABDALLA.
Had our first Asian foes but known this ardour,
We still had wander’d on Tartarian hills.
Rouse, Cali; shall the sons of conquer’d Greece
Lead us to danger, and abash their victors?
This night, with all her conscious stars, be witness,
Who merits most, Demetrius or Abdalla.
DEMETRIUS.
Who merits most! — I knew not, we were rivals.
CALI.
Young man, forbear — the heat of youth, no more —
Well,— ’tis decreed — This night shall fix our fate.
Soon as the veil of ev’ning clouds the sky,
&nb
sp; With cautious secrecy, Leontius, steer
Th’ appointed vessel to yon shaded bay,
Form’d by this garden jutting on the deep;
There, with your soldiers arm’d, and sails expanded,
Await our coming, equally prepar’d
For speedy flight, or obstinate defence. [Exit Leont.
SCENE III.
CALI, ABDALLA, DEMETRIUS.
DEMETRIUS.
Now pause, great bassa, from the thoughts of blood,
And kindly grant an ear to gentler sounds.
If e’er thy youth has known the pangs of absence,
Or felt th’ impatience of obstructed love,
Give me, before th’ approaching hour of fate,
Once to behold the charms of bright Aspasia,
And draw new virtue from her heav’nly tongue.
CALI.
Let prudence, ere the suit be farther urg’d,
Impartial weigh the pleasure with the danger.
A little longer, and she’s thine for ever.
DEMETRIUS.
Prudence and love conspire in this request,
Lest, unacquainted with our bold attempt,
Surprise o’erwhelm her, and retard our flight.
CALI.
What I can grant, you cannot ask in vain —
DEMETRIUS.
I go to wait thy call; this kind consent
Completes the gift of freedom and of life. [Exit Dem.
SCENE IV.
CALI, ABDALLA.
ABDALLA.
And this is my reward — to burn, to languish,
To rave, unheeded; while the happy Greek,
The refuse of our swords, the dross of 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?
CALI.
What claim hast thou to plead?
ABDALLA.
The claim of pow’r,
Th’ unquestion’d claim of conquerors and kings!
CALI.
Yet, in the use of pow’r, remember justice.
ABDALLA.
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.
CALI.
Disorder sits upon thy face — retire.
[Exit Abdalla; enter Mahomet.
SCENE V.
CALI, MAHOMET.
CALI.
Long be the sultan bless’d with happy love!
Complete Works of Samuel Johnson Page 600
