If truths, like these, with pleasing language join; Ennobled, yet unchang'd, if nature shine; If no wild draught depart from reason's rules; Nor gods his heroes, nor his lovers fools; Intriguing wits! his artless plot forgive; And spare him, beauties! though his lovers live.

Be this, at least, his praise, be this his pride; To force applause, no modern arts are try'd. Should partial catcals all his hopes confound, He bids no trumpet quell the fatal sound. Should welcome sleep relieve the weary wit, He rolls no thunders o'er the drowsy pit; No snares, to captivate the judgment, spreads, Nor bribes your eyes to prejudice your heads. Unmov'd, though witlings sneer, and rivals rail, Studious to please, yet not asham'd to fail, He scorns the meek address, the suppliant strain, With merit needless, and without it vain. In reason, nature, truth, he dares to trust: Ye fops, be silent: and, ye wits, be just!

PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.

MEN.

MAHOMET, Emperour of the Turks, Mr. BARRY.

CALI BASSA, First vizier, Mr. BERRY.

MUSTAPHA, A Turkish aga, Mr. SOWDEN.

ABDALLA, An officer, Mr. HAVARD.

HASAN, / Mr. USHER, Turkish captains, CARAZA, / Mr. BURTON.

DEMETRIUS, / Mr. GARRICK, Greek noblemen, LEONTIUS, / MR. BLAKES.

MURZA, An eunuch, Mr. KING.

WOMEN.

ASPASIA, / Mrs. GIBBER, Greek ladies, IRENE, / Mrs. PRITCHARD.

Attendants on IRENE.

ACT I.—SCENE I.

DEMETRIUS and LEONTIUS, in Turkish habits.

LEONTIUS. And, is it thus Demetrius meets his friend, Hid in the mean disguise of Turkish robes, With servile secrecy to lurk in shades, And vent our suff'rings in clandestine groans?

DEMETRIUS. Till breathless fury rested from destruction, These groans were fatal, these disguises vain: But, now our Turkish conquerors have quench'd Their rage, and pall'd their appetite of murder, No more the glutted sabre thirsts for blood; And weary cruelty remits her tortures.

LEONTIUS. Yet Greece enjoys no gleam of transient hope, No soothing interval of peaceful sorrow: The lust of gold succeeds the rage of conquest; —The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless, The last corruption of degen'rate man! Urg'd by th' imperious soldiers' fierce command, The groaning Greeks break up their golden caverns, Pregnant with stores, that India's mines might envy, Th' accumulated wealth of toiling ages.

DEMETRIUS. That wealth, too sacred for their country's use! That wealth, too pleasing to be lost for freedom! That wealth, which, granted to their weeping prince, Had rang'd embattled nations at our gates! But, thus reserv'd to lure the wolves of Turkey, Adds shame to grief, and infamy to ruin. Lamenting av'rice, now too late, discovers Her own neglected in the publick safety.

LEONTIUS. Reproach not misery.—The sons of Greece, Ill fated race! so oft besieg'd in vain, With false security beheld invasion. Why should they fear?—That pow'r that kindly spreads The clouds, a signal of impending show'rs, To warn the wand'ring linnet to the shade, Beheld without concern expiring Greece; And not one prodigy foretold our fate.

DEMETRIUS. A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it: A feeble government, eluded laws, A factious populace, luxurious nobles, And all the maladies of sinking states. When publick villany, too strong for justice, Shows his bold front, the harbinger of ruin, Can brave Leontius call for airy wonders, Which cheats interpret, and which fools regard? When some neglected fabrick nods beneath The weight of years, and totters to the tempest, Must heav'n despatch the messengers of light, Or wake the dead, to warn us of its fall?

LEONTIUS. Well might the weakness of our empire sink Before such foes of more than human force: Some pow'r invisible, from heav'n or hell, Conducts their armies, and asserts their cause.

DEMETRIUS. And yet, my friend, what miracles were wrought Beyond the pow'r of constancy and courage? Did unresisted lightning aid their cannon? Did roaring whirlwinds sweep us from the ramparts? 'Twas vice that shook our nerves, 'twas vice, Leontius, That froze our veins, and wither'd all our pow'rs.

LEONTIUS. Whate'er our crimes, our woes demand compassion. Each night, protected by the friendly darkness, Quitting my close retreat, I range the city, And, weeping, kiss the venerable ruins; With silent pangs, I view the tow'ring domes, Sacred to pray'r; and wander through the streets, Where commerce lavish'd unexhausted plenty, And jollity maintain'd eternal revels—

DEMETRIUS. —How chang'd, alas!—Now ghastly desolation, In triumph, sits upon our shatter'd spires; Now superstition, ignorance, and errour, Usurp our temples, and profane our altars.

LEONTIUS. From ev'ry palace bursts a mingled clamour, The dreadful dissonance of barb'rous triumph, Shrieks of affright, and waitings of distress. Oft when the cries of violated beauty Arose to heav'n, and pierc'd my bleeding breast, I felt thy pains, and trembled for Aspasia.

DEMETRIUS. Aspasia!—spare that lov'd, that mournful name: Dear, hapless maid—tempestuous grief o'erbears My reasoning pow'rs—Dear, hapless, lost Aspasia!

LEONTIUS. Suspend the thought.

DEMETRIUS. All thought on her is madness; Yet let me think—I see the helpless maid; Behold the monsters gaze with savage rapture, Behold how lust and rapine struggle round her!

LEONTIUS. Awake, Demetrius, from this dismal dream; Sink not beneath imaginary sorrows; Call to your aid your courage and your wisdom; Think on the sudden change of human scenes; Think on the various accidents of war; Think on the mighty pow'r of awful virtue; Think on that providence that guards the good.

DEMETRIUS. O providence! extend thy care to me; For courage droops, unequal to the combat; And weak philosophy denies her succours. Sure, some kind sabre in the heat of battle, Ere yet the foe found leisure to be cruel, Dismiss'd her to the sky.

LEONTIUS. Some virgin martyr, Perhaps, enamour'd of resembling virtue, With gentle hand, restrain'd the streams of life, And snatch'd her timely from her country's fate.

DEMETRIUS. From those bright regions of eternal day, Where now thou shin'st among thy fellow-saints, Array'd in purer light, look down on me: In pleasing visions and assuasive dreams, O! sooth my soul, and teach me how to lose thee.

LEONTIUS. Enough of unavailing tears, Demetrius: I come obedient to thy friendly summons, And hop'd to share thy counsels, not thy sorrows: While thus we mourn the fortune of Aspasia, To what are we reserv'd?

DEMETRIUS. To what I know not: But hope, yet hope, to happiness and honour; If happiness can be, without Aspasia.

LEONTIUS. But whence this new-sprung hope?

DEMETRIUS. From Cali bassa, The chief, whose wisdom guides the Turkish counsels. He, tir'd of slav'ry, though the highest slave, Projects, at once, our freedom and his own; And bids us, thus disguis'd, await him here.

LEONTIUS. Can he restore the state he could not save? In vain, when Turkey's troops assail'd our walls, His kind intelligence betray'd their measures; Their arms prevail'd, though Cali was our friend.

DEMETRIUS. When the tenth sun had set upon our sorrows, At midnight's private hour, a voice unknown Sounds in my sleeping ear, 'Awake, Demetrius, Awake, and follow me to better fortunes.' Surpris'd I start, and bless the happy dream; Then, rousing, know the fiery chief Abdalla, Whose quick impatience seiz'd my doubtful hand, And led me to the shore where Cali stood, Pensive, and list'ning to the beating surge. There, in soft hints, and in ambiguous phrase, With all the diffidence of long experience, That oft had practis'd fraud, and oft detected, The vet'ran courtier half reveal'd his project. By his command, equipp'd for speedy flight, Deep in a winding creek a galley lies, Mann'd with the bravest of our fellow-captives, Selected by my care, a hardy band, That long to hail thee chief.

LEONTIUS. But what avails So small a force? or, why should Cali fly? Or, how can Call's flight restore our country?

DEMETRIUS. Reserve these questions for a safer hour; Or hear himself, for see the bassa comes.

SCENE II.

DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, CALI.

CALI. Now summon all thy soul, illustrious Christian! Awake each faculty that sleeps within thee: The courtier's policy, the sage's firmness, The warriour's ardour, and the patriot's zeal. If, chasing past events with vain pursuit, Or wand'ring in the wilds of future being, A single thought now rove, recall it home.— But can thy friend sustain the glorious cause, The cause of liberty, the cause of nations?

DEMETRIUS. Observe him closely, with a statesman's eye, Thou, that hast long perus'd the draughts of nature, And know'st the characters of vice and virtue, Left by the hand of heav'n on human clay.

CALI. His mien is lofty, his demeanour great; Nor sprightly folly wantons in his air; Nor dull serenity becalms his eyes. Such had I trusted once, as soon as seen, But cautious age suspects the flatt'ring form, And only credits what experience tells. Has silence press'd her seal upon his lips? Does adamantine faith invest his heart? Will he not bend beneath a tyrant's frown? Will he not melt before ambition's fire? Will he not soften in a friend's embrace? Or flow dissolving in a woman's tears?

DEMETRIUS. Sooner the trembling leaves shall find a voice, And tell the secrets of their conscious walks; Sooner the breeze shall catch the flying sounds, And shock the tyrant with a tale of treason. Your slaughter'd multitudes, that swell the shore With monuments of death, proclaim his courage; Virtue and liberty engross his soul, And leave no place for perfidy, or fear.

LEONTIUS. I scorn a trust unwillingly repos'd; Demetrius will not lead me to dishonour; Consult in private, call me, when your scheme Is ripe for action, and demands the sword. [Going.

DEMETRIUS. Leontius, stay.

CALI. Forgive an old man's weakness, And share the deepest secrets of my soul, My wrongs, my fears, my motives, my designs.— When unsuccessful wars, and civil factions Embroil'd the Turkish state, our sultan's father, Great Amurath, at my request, forsook The cloister's ease, resum'd the tott'ring throne, And snatch'd the reins of abdicated pow'r From giddy Mahomet's unskilful hand. This fir'd the youthful king's ambitious breast: He murmurs vengeance, at the name of Cali, And dooms my rash fidelity to ruin.

DEMETRIUS. Unhappy lot of all that shine in courts, For forc'd compliance, or for zealous virtue, Still odious to the monarch, or the people.

CALI. Such are the woes, when arbitrary pow'r And lawless passion hold the sword of justice. If there be any land, as fame reports, Where common laws restrain the prince and subject, A happy land, where circulating pow'r Flows through each member of th' embodied state; Sure, not unconscious of the mighty blessing, Her grateful sons shine bright with every virtue; Untainted with the lust of innovation, Sure, all unite to hold her league of rule Unbroken, as the sacred chain of nature That links the jarring elements in peace.

LEONTIUS. But say, great bassa, why the sultan's anger, Burning in vain, delays the stroke of death?

CALI. Young, and unsettled in his father's kingdoms, Fierce as he was, he dreaded to destroy The empire's darling, and the soldier's boast; But now confirm'd, and swelling with his conquests, Secure, he tramples my declining fame, Frowns unrestrain'd, and dooms me with his eyes.

DEMETRIUS. What can reverse thy doom?

CALI. The tyrant's death.

DEMETRIUS. But Greece is still forgot.

CALI. On Asia's coast, Which lately bless'd my gentle government, Soon as the sultan's unexpected fate Fills all th' astonish'd empire with confusion, My policy shall raise an easy throne; The Turkish pow'rs from Europe shall retreat, And harass Greece no more with wasteful war. A galley mann'd with Greeks, thy charge, Leontius, Attends to waft us to repose and safety.

DEMETRIUS. That vessel, if observ'd, alarms the court, And gives a thousand fatal questions birth: Why stor'd for flight? and why prepar'd by Cali?

CALI. This hour I'll beg, with unsuspecting face, Leave to perform my pilgrimage to Mecca; Which granted, hides my purpose from the world, And, though refus'd, conceals it from the sultan.

LEONTIUS. How can a single hand attempt a life, Which armies guard, and citadels enclose?

CALI. Forgetful of command, with captive beauties, Far from his troops, he toys his hours away. A roving soldier seiz'd, in Sophia's temple, A virgin, shining with distinguish'd charms, And brought his beauteous plunder to the sultan—

DEMETRIUS. In Sophia's temple!—What alarm!—Proceed.

CALI. The sultan gaz'd, he wonder'd, and he lov'd: In passion lost, he bade the conqu'ring fair Renounce her faith, and be the queen of Turkey. The pious maid, with modest indignation, Threw back the glitt'ring bribe.

DEMETRIUS. Celestial goodness! It must, it must be she;—her name?

CALI. Aspasia.

DEMETRIUS. What hopes, what terrours, rush upon my soul! O lead me quickly to the scene of fate; Break through the politician's tedious forms; Aspasia calls me, let me fly to save her.

LEONTIUS. Did Mahomet reproach, or praise her virtue?

CALI. His offers, oft repeated, still refus'd, At length rekindled his accustomed fury, And chang'd th' endearing smile, and am'rous whisper To threats of torture, death, and violation.

DEMETRIUS. These tedious narratives of frozen age Distract my soul;—despatch thy ling'ring tale; Say, did a voice from heav'n restrain the tyrant? Did interposing angels guard her from him?

CALI. Just in the moment of impending fate, Another plund'rer brought the bright Irene; Of equal beauty, but of softer mien, Fear in her eye, submission on her tongue, Her mournful charms attracted his regards, Disarm'd his rage, and, in repeated visits, Gain'd all his heart; at length, his eager love To her transferr'd the offer of a crown,

LEONTIUS. Nor found again the bright temptation fail?

CALI. Trembling to grant, nor daring to refuse, While heav'n and Mahomet divide her fears, With coy caresses and with pleasing wiles She feeds his hopes, and sooths him to delay. For her, repose is banish'd from the night, And bus'ness from the day: in her apartments He lives—

LEONTIUS. And there must fall.

CALI. But yet, th' attempt Is hazardous.

LEONTIUS. Forbear to speak of hazards; What has the wretch, that has surviv'd his country, His friends, his liberty, to hazard?

CALI. Life.

DEMETRIUS. Th' inestimable privilege of breathing! Important hazard! What's that airy bubble, When weigh'd with Greece, with virtue, with Aspasia?— A floating atom, dust that falls, unheeded, Into the adverse scale, nor shakes the balance.

CALI. At least, this day be calm—If we succeed, Aspasia's thine, and all thy life is rapture.— See! Mustapha, the tyrant's minion, comes; Invest Leontius with his new command; And wait Abdalla's unsuspected visits: Remember freedom, glory, Greece, and love. [Exeunt Demetrius and Leontius.

SCENE III.

CALI, MUSTAPHA.

MUSTAPHA. By what enchantment does this lovely Greek Hold in her chains the captivated sultan? He tires his fav'rites with Irene's praise, And seeks the shades to muse upon Irene; Irene steals, unheeded, from his tongue, And mingles, unperceiv'd, with ev'ry thought.

CALI. Why should the sultan shun the joys of beauty, Or arm his breast against the force of love? Love, that with sweet vicissitude relieves The warriour's labours and the monarch's cares. But, will she yet receive the faith of Mecca?

MUSTAPHA. Those pow'rful tyrants of the female breast, Fear and ambition, urge her to compliance; Dress'd in each charm of gay magnificence, Alluring grandeur courts her to his arms, Religion calls her from the wish'd embrace, Paints future joys, and points to distant glories.

CALI. Soon will th' unequal contest be decided. Prospects, obscur'd by distance, faintly strike; Each pleasure brightens, at its near approach, And ev'ry danger shocks with double horrour.

MUSTAPHA. How shall I scorn the beautiful apostate! How will the bright Aspasia shine above her!

CALI. Should she, for proselytes are always zealous, With pious warmth receive our prophet's law—

MUSTAPHA. Heav'n will contemn the mercenary fervour, Which love of greatness, not of truth, inflames.

CALI. Cease, cease thy censures; for the sultan comes Alone, with am'rous haste to seek his love.

SCENE IV.

MAHOMET, CALI, MUSTAPHA.

CALI. Hail! terrour of the monarchs of the world; Unshaken be thy throne, as earth's firm base; Live, till the sun forgets to dart his beams, And weary planets loiter in their courses!

MAHOMET. But, Cali, let Irene share thy prayers; For what is length of days, without Irene? I come from empty noise, and tasteless pomp, From crowds, that hide a monarch from himself, To prove the sweets of privacy and friendship, And dwell upon the beauties of Irene.

CALI. O may her beauties last, unchang'd by time, As those that bless the mansions of the good!

MAHOMET. Each realm, where beauty turns the graceful shape, Swells the fair breast, or animates the glance, Adorns my palace with its brightest virgins; Yet, unacquainted with these soft emotions, I walk'd superiour through the blaze of charms, Prais'd without rapture, left without regret. Why rove I now, when absent from my fair, From solitude to crowds, from crowds to solitude, Still restless, till I clasp the lovely maid, And ease my loaded soul upon her bosom?

MUSTAPHA. Forgive, great sultan, that intrusive duty Inquires the final doom of Menodorus, The Grecian counsellor.

MAHOMET. Go, see him die; His martial rhet'rick taught the Greeks resistance; Had they prevail'd, I ne'er had known Irene.

[Exit Mustapha.

SCENE V.

MAHOMET, CALI.

MAHOMET. Remote from tumult, in th' adjoining palace, Thy care shall guard this treasure of my soul: There let Aspasia, since my fair entreats it, With converse chase the melancholy moments. Sure, chill'd with sixty winter camps, thy blood, At sight of female charms, will glow no more.

CALI. These years, unconquer'd Mahomet, demand Desires more pure, and other cares than love. Long have I wish'd, before our prophet's tomb, To pour my pray'rs for thy successful reign, To quit the tumults of the noisy camp, And sink into the silent grave in peace.

MAHOMET. What! think of peace, while haughty Scanderbeg, Elate with conquest, in his native mountains, Prowls o'er the wealthy spoils of bleeding Turkey! While fair Hungaria's unexhausted valleys Pour forth their legions; and the roaring Danube Rolls half his floods, unheard, through shouting camps! Nor could'st thou more support a life of sloth Than Amurath—

CALI. Still, full of Amurath! [Aside.

MAHOMET. Than Amurath, accustom'd to command, Could bear his son upon the Turkish throne.

CALI. This pilgrimage our lawgiver ordain'd—

MAHOMET. For those, who could not please by nobler service.— Our warlike prophet loves an active faith. The holy flame of enterprising virtue Mocks the dull vows of solitude and penance, And scorns the lazy hermit's cheap devotion. Shine thou, distinguish'd by superiour merit; With wonted zeal pursue the task of war, Till ev'ry nation reverence the koran, And ev'ry suppliant lift his eyes to Mecca.

CALI. This regal confidence, this pious ardour, Let prudence moderate, though not suppress. Is not each realm, that smiles with kinder suns, Or boasts a happier soil, already thine? Extended empire, like expanded gold, Exchanges solid strength for feeble splendour.

MAHOMET. Preach thy dull politicks to vulgar kings, Thou know'st not yet thy master's future greatness, His vast designs, his plans of boundless pow'r. When ev'ry storm in my domain shall roar, When ev'ry wave shall beat a Turkish shore; Then, Cali, shall the toils of battle cease, Then dream of pray'r, and pilgrimage, and peace. [Exeunt.

ACT II.—SCENE I. ASPASIA, IRENE.

IRENE. Aspasia, yet pursue the sacred theme; Exhaust the stores of pious eloquence, And teach me to repel the sultan's passion. Still, at Aspasia's voice, a sudden rapture Exalts my soul, and fortifies my heart; The glitt'ring vanities of empty greatness, The hopes and fears, the joys and pains of life, Dissolve in air, and vanish into nothing.

ASPASIA. Let nobler hopes and juster fears succeed, And bar the passes of Irene's mind Against returning guilt.

IRENE. When thou art absent, Death rises to my view, with all his terrours; Then visions, horrid as a murd'rer's dreams, Chill my resolves, and blast my blooming virtue: Stern torture shakes his bloody scourge before me, And anguish gnashes on the fatal wheel.

ASPASIA. Since fear predominates in ev'ry thought, And sways thy breast with absolute dominion, Think on th' insulting scorn, the conscious pangs, The future mis'ries, that wait th' apostate; So shall timidity assist thy reason, And wisdom into virtue turn thy frailty.

IRENE. Will not that pow'r, that form'd the heart of woman, And wove the feeble texture of her nerves, Forgive those fears that shake the tender frame?

ASPASIA. The weakness we lament, ourselves create; Instructed, from our infant years, to court, With counterfeited fears, the aid of man, We learn to shudder at the rustling breeze, Start at the light, and tremble in the dark; Till, affectation ripening to belief, And folly, frighted at her own chimeras, Habitual cowardice usurps the soul.

IRENE. Not all, like thee, can brave the shocks of fate. Thy soul, by nature great, enlarg'd by knowledge, Soars unincumber'd with our idle cares, And all Aspasia, but her beauty's man.

ASPASIA. Each gen'rous sentiment is thine, Demetrius, Whose soul, perhaps, yet mindful of Aspasia, Now hovers o'er this melancholy shade, Well pleas'd to find thy precepts not forgotten. Oh! could the grave restore the pious hero, Soon would his art or valour set us free, And bear us far from servitude and crimes.

IRENE. He yet may live.

ASPASIA. Alas! delusive dream! Too well I know him; his immoderate courage, Th' impetuous sallies of excessive virtue, Too strong for love, have hurried him on death.

SCENE II.

ASPASIA, IRENE, CALI, ABDALLA.

CALI to ABDALLA, as they advance. Behold our future sultaness, Abdalla;— Let artful flatt'ry now, to lull suspicion, Glide, through Irene, to the sultan's ear. Would'st thou subdue th' obdurate cannibal To tender friendship, praise him to his mistress.

[To IRENE.]

Well may those eyes, that view these heav'nly charms, Reject the daughters of contending kings; For what are pompous titles, proud alliance, Empire or wealth, to excellence like thine?

ABDALLA. Receive th' impatient sultan to thy arms; And may a long posterity of monarchs, The pride and terrour of succeeding days, Rise from the happy bed; and future queens Diffuse Irene's beauty through the world!

IRENE. Can Mahomet's imperial hand descend To clasp a slave? or can a soul, like mine, Unus'd to pow'r, and form'd for humbler scenes, Support the splendid miseries of greatness?

CALI. No regal pageant, deck'd with casual honours, Scorn'd by his subjects, trampled by his foes; No feeble tyrant of a petty state, Courts thee to shake on a dependant throne; Born to command, as thou to charm mankind, The sultan from himself derives his greatness. Observe, bright maid, as his resistless voice Drives on the tempest of destructive war, How nation after nation falls before him.

ABDALLA. At his dread name the distant mountains shake Their cloudy summits, and the sons of fierceness, That range uncivilized from rock to rock, Distrust th' eternal fortresses of nature, And wish their gloomy caverns more obscure.

ASPASIA. Forbear this lavish pomp of dreadful praise; The horrid images of war and slaughter Renew our sorrows, and awake our fears.

ABDALLA. Cali, methinks yon waving trees afford A doubtful glimpse of our approaching friends; Just as I mark'd them, they forsook the shore, And turn'd their hasty steps towards the garden.

CALI. Conduct these queens, Abdalla, to the palace: Such heav'nly beauty, form'd for adoration, The pride of monarchs, the reward of conquest! Such beauty must not shine to vulgar eyes.

SCENE III.

CALI, solus.

How heav'n, in scorn of human arrogance, Commits to trivial chance the fate of nations! While, with incessant thought, laborious man Extends his mighty schemes of wealth and pow'r, And towers and triumphs in ideal greatness; Some accidental gust of opposition Blasts all the beauties of his new creation, O'erturns the fabrick of presumptuous reason, And whelms the swelling architect beneath it. Had not the breeze untwin'd the meeting boughs, And, through the parted shade, disclos'd the Greeks, Th' important hour had pass'd, unheeded, by, In all the sweet oblivion of delight, In all the fopperies of meeting lovers; In sighs and tears, in transports and embraces, In soft complaints, and idle protestations.

SCENE IV.

CALI, DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS.

CALI. Could omens fright the resolute and wise, Well might we fear impending disappointments.

LEONTIUS. Your artful suit, your monarch's fierce denial, The cruel doom of hapless Menodorus—

DEMETRIUS. And your new charge, that dear, that heav'nly maid—

LEONTIUS. All this we know already from Abdalla.

DEMETRIUS. Such slight defeats but animate the brave To stronger efforts and maturer counsels.

CALI. My doom confirm'd establishes my purpose. Calmly he heard, till Amurath's resumption Rose to his thought, and set his soul on fire: When from his lips the fatal name burst out, A sudden pause th' imperfect sense suspended, Like the dread stillness of condensing storms.

DEMETRIUS. The loudest cries of nature urge us forward; Despotick rage pursues the life of Cali; His groaning country claims Leontius' aid; And yet another voice, forgive me, Greece, The pow'rful voice of love, inflames Demetrius; Each ling'ring hour alarms me for Aspasia.

CALI. What passions reign among thy crew, Leontius? Does cheerless diffidence oppress their hearts? Or sprightly hope exalt their kindling spirits? Do they, with pain, repress the struggling shout, And listen eager to the rising wind?

LEONTIUS. All there is hope, and gaiety, and courage, No cloudy doubts, or languishing delays; Ere I could range them on the crowded deck, At once a hundred voices thunder'd round me, And ev'ry voice was liberty and Greece.

DEMETRIUS. Swift let us rush upon the careless tyrant, Nor give him leisure for another crime.

LEONTIUS. Then let us now resolve, nor idly waste Another hour in dull deliberation.

CALI. But see, where destin'd to protract our counsels, Comes Mustapha.—Your Turkish robes conceal you. Retire with speed, while I prepare to meet him With artificial smiles, and seeming friendship.

SCENE V.

CALI, MUSTAPHA.

CALI. I see the gloom, that low'rs upon thy brow; These days of love and pleasure charm not thee; Too slow these gentle constellations roll; Thou long'st for stars, that frown on human kind, And scatter discord from their baleful beams.

MUSTAPHA. How blest art thou, still jocund and serene, Beneath the load of business, and of years!

CALI. Sure, by some wond'rous sympathy of souls, My heart still beats responsive to the sultan's; I share, by secret instinct, all his joys, And feel no sorrow, while my sov'reign smiles.

MUSTAPHA. The sultan comes, impatient for his love; Conduct her hither; let no rude intrusion Molest these private walks, or care invade These hours, assign'd to pleasure and Irene.

SCENE VI.

MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA.

MAHOMET. Now, Mustapha, pursue thy tale of horrour. Has treason's dire infection reach'd my palace? Can Cali dare the stroke of heav'nly justice, In the dark precincts of the gaping grave, And load with perjuries his parting soul? Was it for this, that, sick'ning in Epirus, My father call'd me to his couch of death, Join'd Cali's hand to mine, and falt'ring cried, Restrain the fervour of impetuous youth With venerable Cali's faithful counsels? Are these the counsels, this the faith of Cali? Were all our favours lavish'd on a villain? Confest?—

MUSTAPHA. Confest by dying Menodorus. In his last agonies, the gasping coward, Amidst the tortures of the burning steel, Still fond of life, groan'd out the dreadful secret, Held forth this fatal scroll, then sunk to nothing.

MAHOMET. examining the paper. His correspondence with our foes of Greece! His hand! his seal! The secrets of my soul, Conceal'd from all but him! All, all conspire To banish doubt, and brand him for a villain! Our schemes for ever cross'd, our mines discover'd, Betray'd some traitor lurking near my bosom. Oft have I rag'd, when their wide-wasting cannon Lay pointed at our batt'ries yet unform'd, And broke the meditated lines of war. Detested Cali, too, with artful wonder, Would shake his wily head, and closely whisper, Beware of Mustapha, beware of treason.

MUSTAPHA. The faith of Mustapha disdains suspicion; But yet, great emperour, beware of treason; Th' insidious bassa, fir'd by disappointment—

MAHOMET. Shall feel the vengeance of an injur'd king. Go, seize him, load him with reproachful chains; Before th' assembled troops, proclaim his crimes; Then leave him, stretch'd upon the ling'ring rack, Amidst the camp to howl his life away.

MUSTAPHA. Should we, before the troops, proclaim his crimes, I dread his arts of seeming innocence, His bland address, and sorcery of tongue; And, should he fall, unheard, by sudden justice, Th' adoring soldiers would revenge their idol.

MAHOMET. Cali, this day, with hypocritick zeal, Implor'd my leave to visit Mecca's temple; Struck with the wonder of a statesman's goodness, I rais'd his thoughts to more sublime devotion. Now let him go, pursu'd by silent wrath, Meet unexpected daggers in his way, And, in some distant land, obscurely die.

MUSTAPHA. There will his boundless wealth, the spoil of Asia, Heap'd by your father's ill-plac'd bounties on him, Disperse rebellion through the eastern world; 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, 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! 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 hail, unanimous, their conqu'ring god.

MAHOMET. My vows, 'tis true, she hears with less aversion; She sighs, she blushes, but she still denies.

CALI. 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.

MAHOMET. 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.

SCENE VI.

CALI, solus.

He's gone—Here rest, my soul, thy fainting wing; Here recollect thy dissipated pow'rs.— Our distant int'rests, and our diff'rent 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.

SCENE VII.

CALI, IRENE, ASPASIA, &c.

CALI. Amidst the splendour of encircling beauty, Superiour majesty proclaims thee queen, And nature justifies our monarch's choice.

IRENE. Reserve this homage for some other fair; Urge me not on to glitt'ring guilt, nor pour In my weak ear th' intoxicating sounds.

CALI. Make haste, bright maid, to rule the willing world; Aw'd by the rigour of the sultan's justice, We court thy gentleness.

ASPASIA. Can Cali's voice Concur to press a hapless captive's ruin?

CALI. 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.

SCENE VIII.

IRENE, ASPASIA, attendants.

ASPASIA. 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' incumbrances of state, a moment, And lay the tow'ring sultaness aside,

Irene signs to her attendants to retire.

While I foretell thy fate: that office done,— No more I boast th' ambitious name of friend, But sink among thy slaves, without a murmur.

IRENE. Did regal diadems invest my brow, Yet should my soul, still faithful to her choice, Esteem Aspasia's breast the noblest kingdom.

ASPASIA. 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[a].

[a] In the original copy of this tragedy, given to Mr. Langton, the above speech is as follows; and, in Mr. Boswell's judgment, is finer than in the present editions:

"Nor think to say, here will I stop; Here will I fix the limits of transgression, Nor farther tempt the avenging rage of heaven. When guilt, like this, once harbours in the breast, Those holy beings, whose unseen direction Guides, through the maze of life, the steps of man. Fly the detested mansions of impiety, And quit their charge to horrour and to ruin."

See Boswell, i. for other compared extracts from the first sketch. —ED.

IRENE. Upbraid me not with fancied wickedness; I am not yet a queen, or an apostate. But should I sin beyond the hope of mercy, If, when religion prompts me to refuse, The dread of instant death restrains my tongue?

ASPASIA. 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 say'd, with loss of life.

IRENE. If built on settled thought, this constancy Not idly flutters on a boastful tongue, Why, when destruction rag'd around our walls, Why fled this haughty heroine from the battle? Why, then, did not this warlike amazon Mix in the war, and shine among the heroes?

ASPASIA. Heav'n, when its hand pour'd softness on our limbs, Unfit for toil, and polish'd into weakness, Made passive fortitude the praise of woman: Our only arms are innocence and meekness. Not then with raving cries I fill'd the city; But, while Demetrius, dear, lamented name! Pour'd storms of fire upon our fierce invaders, Implor'd th' eternal pow'r to shield my country, With silent sorrows, and with calm devotion.

IRENE. O! did Irene shine the queen of Turkey, No more should Greece lament those pray'rs rejected; Again, should golden splendour grace her cities, Again, her prostrate palaces should rise, Again, her temples sound with holy musick: No more should danger fright, or want distress The smiling widows, and protected orphans.

ASPASIA. Be virtuous ends pursued by virtuous means, Nor think th' intention sanctifies the deed: That maxim, publish'd in an impious age, Would loose the wild enthusiast to destroy, And fix the fierce usurper's bloody title; Then bigotry might send her slaves to war, And bid success become the test of truth: Unpitying massacre might waste the world, And persecution boast the call of heaven.

IRENE. Shall I not wish to cheer afflicted kings, And plan the happiness of mourning millions?

ASPASIA. Dream not of pow'r, thou never canst attain: When social laws first harmoniz'd the world, Superiour man possess'd the charge of rule, The scale of justice, and the sword of power, Nor left us aught, but flattery and state.

IRENE. To me my lover's fondness will restore Whate'er man's pride has ravish'd from our sex.

ASPASIA. When soft security shall prompt the sultan, Freed from the tumults of unsettled conquest, To fix his court, and regulate his pleasures, Soon shall the dire seraglio's horrid gates Close, like th' eternal bars of death, upon thee. Immur'd, and buried in perpetual sloth, That gloomy slumber of the stagnant soul, There shalt thou view, from far, the quiet cottage, And sigh for cheerful poverty in vain; There wear the tedious hours of life away, Beneath each curse of unrelenting heav'n, Despair and slav'ry, solitude and guilt.

IRENE. There shall we find the yet untasted bliss Of grandeur and tranquillity combin'd.

ASPASIA. Tranquillity and guilt, disjoin'd by heaven, Still stretch in vain their longing arms afar; Nor dare to pass th' insuperable bound. Ah! let me rather seek the convent's cell; There, when my thoughts, at interval of prayer, Descend to range these mansions of misfortune, Oft shall I dwell on our disastrous friendship, And shed the pitying tear for lost Irene.

IRENE. Go, languish on in dull obscurity; Thy dazzled soul, with all its boasted greatness, Shrinks at th' o'erpow'ring gleams of regal state, Stoops from the blaze, like a degen'rate eagle, And flies for shelter to the shades of life.

ASPASIA. On me should providence, without a crime, The weighty charge of royalty confer; Call me to civilize the Russian wilds, Or bid soft science polish Britain's heroes; Soon should'st thou see, how false thy weak reproach, My bosom feels, enkindled from the sky, The lambent flames of mild benevolence, Untouch'd by fierce ambition's raging fires.

IRENE. Ambition is the stamp, impress'd by heav'n To mark the noblest minds; with active heat Inform'd, they mount the precipice of pow'r, Grasp at command, and tow'r in quest of empire; While vulgar souls compassionate their cares, Gaze at their height, and tremble at their danger: Thus meaner spirits, with amazement, mark The varying seasons, and revolving skies, And ask, what guilty pow'r's rebellious hand Rolls with eternal toil the pond'rous orbs; While some archangel, nearer to perfection, In easy state, presides o'er all their motions, Directs the planets, with a careless nod, Conducts the sun, and regulates the spheres.

ASPASIA. Well may'st thou hide in labyrinths of sound The cause that shrinks from reason's pow'rful voice. Stoop from thy flight, trace back th' entangled thought, And set the glitt'ring fallacy to view. Not pow'r I blame, but pow'r obtain'd by crime; Angelick greatness is angelick virtue. Amidst the glare of courts, the shout of armies, Will not th' apostate feel the pangs of guilt, And wish, too late, for innocence and peace, Curst, as the tyrant of th' infernal realms, With gloomy state and agonizing pomp?

SCENE IX.

IRENE, ASPASIA, MAID.

MAID. A Turkish stranger, of majestick mien, Asks at the gate admission to Aspasia, Commission'd, as he says, by Cali bassa.

IRENE. Whoe'er thou art, or whatsoe'er thy message, [Aside. Thanks for this kind relief—With speed admit him.

ASPASIA. He comes, perhaps, to separate us for ever; When I am gone, remember, O! remember, That none are great, or happy, but the virtuous.

[Exit Irene; enter Demetrius.

SCENE X.

ASPASIA, DEMETRIUS.

DEMETRIUS. 'Tis she—my hope, my happiness, my love! Aspasia! do I, once again, behold thee? Still, still the same—unclouded by misfortune! Let my blest eyes for ever gaze—

ASPASIA. Demetrius!

DEMETRIUS. Why does the blood forsake thy lovely cheek? Why shoots this chilness through thy shaking nerves? Why does thy soul retire into herself? Recline upon my breast thy sinking beauties: Revive—Revive to freedom and to love.

ASPASIA. What well-known voice pronounc'd the grateful sounds, Freedom and love? Alas! I'm all confusion; A sudden mist o'ercasts my darken'd soul; The present, past, and future swim before me, Lost in a wild perplexity of joy.

DEMETRIUS. Such ecstasy of love, such pure affection, What worth can merit? or what faith reward?

ASPASIA. A thousand thoughts, imperfect and distracted, Demand a voice, and struggle into birth; A thousand questions press upon my tongue, But all give way to rapture and Demetrius.

DEMETRIUS. O say, bright being, in this age of absence, What fears, what griefs, what dangers, hast thou known? Say, how the tyrant threaten'd, flatter'd, sigh'd! Say, how he threaten'd, flatter'd, sigh'd in vain! Say, how the hand of violence was rais'd! Say, how thou call'dst in tears upon Demetrius!

ASPASIA. Inform me rather, how thy happy courage Stemm'd in the breach the deluge of destruction, And pass'd, uninjur'd, through the walks of death. Did savage anger and licentious conquest Behold the hero with Aspasia's eyes? And, thus protected in the gen'ral ruin, O! say, what guardian pow'r convey'd thee hither.

DEMETRIUS. Such strange events, such unexpected chances, Beyond my warmest hope, or wildest wishes, Concurr'd to give me to Aspasia's arms, I stand amaz'd, and ask, if yet I clasp thee.

ASPASIA. Sure heav'n, (for wonders are not wrought in vain!) That joins us thus, will never part us more.

SCENE XI.

DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, ABDALLA.

ABDALLA. It parts you now—The hasty sultan sign'd The laws unread, and flies to his Irene.

DEMETRIUS. Fix'd and intent on his Irene's charms, He envies none the converse of Aspasia.

ABDALLA. Aspasia's absence will inflame suspicion; She cannot, must not, shall not, linger here; Prudence and friendship bid me force her from you.

DEMETRIUS. Force her! profane her with a touch, and die!

ABDALLA. 'Tis Greece, 'tis freedom, calls Aspasia hence; Your careless love betrays your country's cause.

DEMETRIUS. If we must part—

ASPASIA. No! let us die together.

DEMETRIUS. If we must part—

ABDALLA. Despatch; th' increasing danger Will not admit a lover's long farewell, The long-drawn intercourse of sighs and kisses.

DEMETRIUS. Then—O! my fair, I cannot bid thee go. Receive her, and protect her, gracious heav'n! Yet let me watch her dear departing steps; If fate pursues me, let it find me here. Reproach not, Greece, a lover's fond delays, Nor think thy cause neglected, while I gaze; New force, new courage, from each glance I gain, And find our passions not infus'd in vain. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.—SCENE I.

DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, enter as talking.

ASPASIA. Enough—resistless reason calms my soul— Approving justice smiles upon your cause, And nature's rights entreat th' asserting sword. Yet, when your hand is lifted to destroy, Think, but excuse a woman's needless caution,— Purge well thy mind from ev'ry private passion, Drive int'rest, love, and vengeance, from thy thoughts; Fill all thy ardent breast with Greece and virtue; Then strike secure, and heav'n assist the blow!

DEMETRIUS. Thou kind assistant of my better angel, Propitious guide of my bewilder'd soul, Calm of my cares, and guardian of my virtue!

ASPASIA. My soul, first kindled by thy bright example, To noble thought and gen'rous emulation, Now but reflects those beams that flow'd from thee.

DEMETRIUS. With native lustre and unborrow'd greatness, Thou shin'st, bright maid, superiour to distress; Unlike the trifling race of vulgar beauties, Those glitt'ring dewdrops of a vernal morn, That spread their colours to the genial beam, And, sparkling, quiver to the breath of May; But, when the tempest, with sonorous wing, Sweeps o'er the grove, forsake the lab'ring bough, Dispers'd in air, or mingled with the dust.

ASPASIA. Forbear this triumph—still new conflicts wait us, Foes unforeseen, and dangers unsuspected. Oft, when the fierce besiegers' eager host Beholds the fainting garrison retire, And rushes joyful to the naked wall, Destruction flashes from th' insidious mine, And sweeps th' exulting conqueror away. Perhaps, in vain the sultan's anger spar'd me, To find a meaner fate from treach'rous friendship— Abdalla!—

DEMETRIUS. Can Abdalla then dissemble! That fiery chief, renown'd for gen'rous freedom, For zeal unguarded, undissembled hate, For daring truth, and turbulence of honour!

ASPASIA. This open friend, this undesigning hero, With noisy falsehoods, forc'd me from your arms, To shock my virtue with a tale of love.

DEMETRIUS. Did not the cause of Greece restrain my sword, Aspasia should not fear a second insult.

ASPASIA. His pride and love, by turns, inspir'd his tongue, And intermix'd my praises with his own; His wealth, his rank, his honours, he recounted, Till, in the midst of arrogance and fondness, Th' approaching sultan forc'd me from the palace; Then, while he gaz'd upon his yielding mistress, I stole, unheeded, from their ravish'd eyes, And sought this happy grove in quest of thee.

DEMETRIUS. Soon may the final stroke decide our fate, Lest baleful discord crush our infant scheme, And strangled freedom perish in the birth!

ASPASIA. My bosom, harass'd with alternate passions, Now hopes, now fears—

DEMETRIUS. Th' anxieties of love.

ASPASIA. Think, how the sov'reign arbiter of kingdoms Detests thy false associates' black designs, And frowns on perjury, revenge, and murder. Embark'd with treason on the seas of fate, When heaven shall bid the swelling billows rage, And point vindictive lightnings at rebellion, Will not the patriot share the traitor's danger? Oh! could thy hand, unaided, free thy country, Nor mingled guilt pollute the sacred cause!

DEMETRIUS. Permitted oft, though not inspir'd, by heaven, Successful treasons punish impious kings.

ASPASIA. Nor end my terrours with the sultan's death; Far as futurity's untravell'd waste Lies open to conjecture's dubious ken, On ev'ry side confusion, rage, and death, Perhaps, the phantoms of a woman's fear, Beset the treach'rous way with fatal ambush; Each Turkish bosom burns for thy destruction, Ambitious Cali dreads the statesman's arts, And hot Abdalla hates the happy lover.

DEMETRIUS. Capricious man! to good and ill inconstant, Too much to fear or trust is equal weakness. Sometimes the wretch, unaw'd by heav'n or hell, With mad devotion idolizes honour. The bassa, reeking with his master's murder, Perhaps, may start at violated friendship.

ASPASIA. How soon, alas! will int'rest, fear, or envy, O'erthrow such weak, such accidental virtue, Nor built on faith, nor fortified by conscience!

DEMETRIUS. When desp'rate ills demand a speedy cure, Distrust is cowardice, and prudence folly.

ASPASIA. Yet, think a moment, ere you court destruction, What hand, when death has snatch'd away Demetrius, Shall guard Aspasia from triumphant lust.

DEMETRIUS. Dismiss these needless fears—a troop of Greeks, Well known, long try'd, expect us on the shore. Borne on the surface of the smiling deep, Soon shalt thou scorn, in safety's arms repos'd, Abdalla's rage and Cali's stratagems.

ASPASIA. Still, still, distrust sits heavy on my heart. Will e'er a happier hour revisit Greece?

DEMETRIUS. Should heav'n, yet unappeas'd, refuse its aid, Disperse our hopes, and frustrate our designs, Yet shall the conscience of the great attempt Diffuse a brightness on our future days; Nor will his country's groans reproach Demetrius. But how canst thou support the woes of exile? Canst thou forget hereditary splendours, To live obscure upon a foreign coast, Content with science, innocence, and love?

ASPASIA. Nor wealth, nor titles, make Aspasia's bliss. O'erwhelm'd and lost amidst the publick ruins, Unmov'd, I saw the glitt'ring trifles perish, And thought the petty dross beneath a sigh. Cheerful I follow to the rural cell; Love be my wealth, and my distinction virtue.

DEMETRIUS. Submissive, and prepar'd for each event, Now let us wait the last award of heav'n, Secure of happiness from flight or conquest; Nor fear the fair and learn'd can want protection. The mighty Tuscan courts the banish'd arts To kind Italia's hospitable shades; There shall soft leisure wing th' excursive soul, And peace, propitious, smile on fond desire; There shall despotick eloquence resume Her ancient empire o'er the yielding heart; There poetry shall tune her sacred voice, And wake from ignorance the western world.

SCENE II.

DEMETRIUS, ASPASIA, CALI.

CALI. At length th' unwilling sun resigns the world To silence and to rest. The hours of darkness, Propitious hours to stratagem and death, Pursue the last remains of ling'ring light.

DEMETRIUS. Count not these hours, as parts of vulgar time; Think them a sacred treasure lent by heaven, Which, squander'd by neglect, or fear, or folly, No prayer recalls, no diligence redeems. To-morrow's dawn shall see the Turkish king Stretch'd in the dust, or tow'ring on his throne; To-morrow's dawn shall see the mighty Cali The sport of tyranny, or lord of nations.

CALI. Then waste no longer these important moments In soft endearments, and in gentle murmurs; Nor lose, in love, the patriot and the hero.

DEMETRIUS. 'Tis love, combin'd with guilt alone, that melts The soften'd soul to cowardice and sloth; But virtuous passion prompts the great resolve, And fans the slumbering spark of heavenly fire. Retire, my fair; that pow'r that smiles on goodness, Guide all thy steps, calm ev'ry stormy thought, And still thy bosom with the voice of peace!

ASPASIA. Soon may we meet again, secure and free, To feel no more the pangs of separation! [Exit.

DEMETRIUS, CALI.

DEMETRIUS. This night alone is ours—Our mighty foe, No longer lost in am'rous solitude, Will now remount the slighted seat of empire, And show Irene to the shouting people: Aspasia left her, sighing in his arms, And list'ning to the pleasing tale of pow'r; With soften'd voice she dropp'd the faint refusal, Smiling consent she sat, and blushing love.

CALI. Now, tyrant, with satiety of beauty Now feast thine eyes; thine eyes, that ne'er hereafter Shall dart their am'rous glances at the fair, Or glare on Cali with malignant beams.

SCENE III.

DEMETRIUS, CALI, LEONTIUS, ABDALLA.

LEONTIUS. Our bark, unseen, has reach'd th' appointed bay, And, where yon trees wave o'er the foaming surge, Reclines against the shore: our Grecian troop Extends its lines along the sandy beach, Elate with hope, and panting for a foe.

ABDALLA. The fav'ring winds assist the great design, Sport in our sails, and murmur o'er the deep.

CALI. 'Tis well—A single blow completes our wishes; Return with speed, Leontius, to your charge; The Greeks, disorder'd by their leader's absence, May droop dismay'd, or kindle into madness.

LEONTIUS. Suspected still!—What villain's pois'nous tongue Dares join Leontius' name with fear or falsehood? Have I for this preserv'd my guiltless bosom, Pure as the thoughts of infant innocence? Have I for this defy'd the chiefs of Turkey, Intrepid in the flaming front of war?

CALI. Hast thou not search'd my soul's profoundest thoughts? Is not the fate of Greece and Cali thine?

LEONTIUS. Why has thy choice then pointed out Leontius, Unfit to share this night's illustrious toils? To wait, remote from action, and from honour, An idle list'ner to the distant cries Of slaughter'd infidels, and clash of swords? Tell me the cause, that while thy name, Demetrius, Shall soar, triumphant on the wings of glory, Despis'd and curs'd, Leontius must descend Through hissing ages, a proverbial coward, The tale of women, and the scorn of fools?

DEMETRIUS. Can brave Leontius be the slave of glory? Glory, the casual gift of thoughtless crowds! Glory, the bribe of avaricious virtue! Be but my country free, be thine the praise; I ask no witness, but attesting conscience, No records, but the records of the sky.

LEONTIUS. Wilt thou then head the troop upon the shore, While I destroy th' oppressor of mankind?

DEMETRIUS. What canst thou boast superiour to Demetrius? Ask, to whose sword the Greeks will trust their cause, My name shall echo through the shouting field: Demand, whose force yon Turkish heroes dread, The shudd'ring camp shall murmur out Demetrius.

CALI Must Greece, still wretched by her children's folly, For ever mourn their avarice or factions? Demetrius justly pleads a double title; The lover's int'rest aids the patriot's claim.

LEONTIUS. My pride shall ne'er protract my country's woes; Succeed, my friend, unenvied by Leontius.

DEMETRIUS. I feel new spirit shoot along my nerves; My soul expands to meet approaching freedom. Now hover o'er us, with propitious wings, Ye sacred shades of patriots and of martyrs! All ye, whose blood tyrannick rage effus'd, Or persecution drank, attend our call; I And from the mansions of perpetual peace Descend, to sweeten labours, once your own!

CALI. Go then, and with united eloquence Confirm your troops; and, when the moon's fair beam Plays on the quiv'ring waves, to guide our flight, Return, Demetrius, and be free for ever. [Exeunt Dem. and Leon.

SCENE IV.

CALI, ABDALLA.

ABDALLA. How the new monarch, swell'd with airy rule, Looks down, contemptuous, from his fancy'd height, And utters fate, unmindful of Abdalla!

CALI. Far be such black ingratitude from Cali! When Asia's nations own me for their lord, Wealth, and command, and grandeur shall be thine!

ABDALLA. Is this the recompense reserv'd for me? Dar'st thou thus dally with Abdalla's passion? Henceforward, hope no more my slighted friendship; Wake from thy dream of power to death and tortures, And bid thy visionary throne farewell.

CALI. Name, and enjoy thy wish—

ABDALLA. I need not name it; Aspasia's lovers know but one desire, Nor hope, nor wish, nor live, but for Aspasia.

CALI. That fatal beauty, plighted to Demetrius, Heaven makes not mine to give.

ABDALLA. Nor to deny.

CALI. Obtain her, and possess; thou know'st thy rival.

ABDALLA. Too well I know him, since, on Thracia's plains, I felt the force of his tempestuous arm, And saw my scatter'd squadrons fly before him. Nor will I trust th' uncertain chance of combat; The rights of princes let the sword decide, The petty claims of empire and of honour: Revenge and subtle jealousy shall teach A surer passage to his hated heart.

CALI. Oh! spare the gallant Greek, in him we lose The politician's arts, and hero's flame.

ABDALLA. When next we meet, before we storm the palace, The bowl shall circle to confirm our league; Then shall these juices taint Demetrius' draught, [Showing a phial. And stream, destructive, through his freezing veins: Thus shall he live to strike th' important blow, And perish, ere he taste the joys of conquest.

SCENE V.

MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, CALI, ABDALLA.

MAHOMET. Henceforth, for ever happy be this day, Sacred to love, to pleasure, and Irene! The matchless fair has bless'd me with compliance; Let every tongue resound Irene's praise, And spread the gen'ral transport through mankind.

CALI. Blest prince, for whom indulgent heav'n ordains, At once, the joys of paradise and empire, Now join thy people's and thy Cali's prayers; Suspend thy passage to the seats of bliss, Nor wish for houries in Irene's arms.

MAHOMET. Forbear—I know the long-try'd faith of Cali.

CALI. Oh! could the eyes of kings, like those of heav'n, Search to the dark recesses of the soul, Oft would they find ingratitude and treason, By smiles, and oaths, and praises, ill disguis'd. How rarely would they meet, in crowded courts, Fidelity so firm, so pure, as mine.

MUSTAPHA. Yet, ere we give our loosen'd thoughts to rapture, Let prudence obviate an impending danger: Tainted by sloth, the parent of sedition, The hungry janizary burns for plunder, And growls, in private, o'er his idle sabre.

MAHOMET. To still their murmurs, ere the twentieth sun Shall shed his beams upon the bridal bed, I rouse to war, and conquer for Irene. Then shall the Rhodian mourn his sinking tow'rs, And Buda fall, and proud Vienna tremble; Then shall Venetia feel the Turkish pow'r, And subject seas roar round their queen in vain.

ABDALLA. Then seize fair Italy's delightful coast, To fix your standard in imperial Rome.

MAHOMET. Her sons malicious clemency shall spare, To form new legends, sanctify new crimes; To canonize the slaves of superstition, And fill the world with follies and impostures, Till angry heav'n shall mark them out for ruin, And war o'erwhelm them in their dream of vice. O! could her fabled saints and boasted prayers Call forth her ancient heroes to the field, How should I joy, midst the fierce shock of nations, To cross the tow'rings of an equal soul, And bid the master-genius rule the world! Abdalla, Cali, go—proclaim my purpose. [Exeunt Cali and Abdalla.

SCENE VI.

MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA.

MAHOMET. Still Cali lives: and must he live to-morrow? That fawning villain's forc'd congratulations Will cloud my triumphs, and pollute the day.

MUSTAPHA. With cautious vigilance, at my command, Two faithful captains, Hasan and Caraza, Pursue him through his labyrinths of treason, And wait your summons to report his conduct.

MAHOMET. Call them—but let them not prolong their tale, Nor press, too much, upon a lover's patience. [Exit Mustapha.

SCENE VII.

Mahomet, Solus.

Whome'er the hope, still blasted, still renew'd, Of happiness lures on from toil to toil, Remember Mahomet, and cease thy labour. Behold him here, in love, in war, successful; Behold him, wretched in his double triumph! His fav'rite faithless, and his mistress base. Ambition only gave her to my arms, By reason not convinc'd, nor won by love. Ambition was her crime; but meaner folly Dooms me to loathe, at once, and dote on falsehood, And idolize th' apostate I contemn. If thou art more than the gay dream of fancy, More than a pleasing sound, without a meaning, O happiness! sure thou art all Aspasia's.

SCENE VIII.

MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, HASAN, CARAZA.

MAHOMET. Caraza, speak—have ye remark'd the bassa?

CARAZA. Close, as we might unseen, we watch'd his steps: His hair disorder'd, and his gait unequal, Betray'd the wild emotions of his mind. Sudden he stops, and inward turns his eyes, Absorb'd in thought; then, starting from his trance, Constrains a sullen smile, and shoots away. With him Abdalla we beheld—

MUSTAPHA. Abdalla!

MAHOMET. He wears, of late, resentment on his brow, Deny'd the government of Servia's province.

CARAZA. We mark'd him storming in excess of fury, And heard, within the thicket that conceal'd us, An undistinguish'd sound of threat'ning rage.

MUSTAPHA. How guilt, once harbour'd in the conscious breast, Intimidates the brave, degrades the great; See Cali, dread of kings, and pride of armies, By treason levell'd with the dregs of men! Ere guilty fear depress'd the hoary chief, An angry murmur, a rebellious frown, Had stretch'd the fiery boaster in the grave.

MAHOMET. Shall monarchs fear to draw the sword of justice, Aw'd by the crowd, and by their slaves restrain'd? Seize him this night, and, through the private passage, Convey him to the prison's inmost depths, Reserv'd to all the pangs of tedious death. [Exeunt Mahomet and Mustapha.

SCENE IX.

HASAN, CARAZA.

HASAN. Shall then the Greeks, unpunish'd and conceal'd, Contrive, perhaps, the ruin of our empire; League with our chiefs, and propagate sedition?

CARAZA. Whate'er their scheme, the bassa's death defeats it, And gratitude's strong ties restrain my tongue.

HASAN. What ties to slaves? what gratitude to foes?

CARAZA. In that black day, when slaughter'd thousands fell Around these fatal walls, the tide of war Bore me victorious onward, where Demetrius Tore, unresisted, from the giant hand Of stern Sebalias, the triumphant crescent, And dash'd the might of Asam from the ramparts. There I became, nor blush to make it known, The captive of his sword. The coward Greeks, Enrag'd by wrongs, exulting with success, Doom'd me to die with all the Turkish captains; But brave Demetrius scorn'd the mean revenge, And gave me life.—

HASAN. Do thou repay the gift, Lest unrewarded mercy lose its charms. Profuse of wealth, or bounteous of success, When heav'n bestows the privilege to bless, Let no weak doubt the gen'rous hand restrain; For when was pow'r beneficent in vain? [Exeunt.

ACT V.—SCENE I.

ASPASIA, sola.

In these dark moments of suspended fate, While yet the future fortune of my country Lies in the womb of providence conceal'd, And anxious angels wait the mighty birth; O! grant thy sacred influence, pow'rful virtue! Attentive rise, survey the fair creation, Till, conscious of th' encircling deity, Beyond the mists of care thy pinion tow'rs. This calm, these joys, dear innocence! are thine: Joys ill exchang'd for gold, and pride, and empire.

[Enter Irene and attendants.

SCENE II.

ASPASIA, IRENE and attendants.

IRENE. See how the moon, through all th' unclouded sky, Spreads her mild radiance, and descending dews Revive the languid flow'rs; thus nature shone New from the maker's hand, and fair array'd In the bright colours of primeval spring; When purity, while fraud was yet unknown, Play'd fearless in th' inviolated shades. This elemental joy, this gen'ral calm, Is, sure, the smile of unoffended heav'n. Yet! why—

MAID. Behold, within th' embow'ring grove Aspasia stands—

IRENE. With melancholy mien, Pensive, and envious of Irene's greatness. Steal, unperceiv'd, upon her meditations But see, the lofty maid, at our approach, Resumes th' imperious air of haughty virtue. Are these th' unceasing joys, th' unmingled pleasures, [To Aspasia. For which Aspasia scorn'd the Turkish crown? Is this th' unshaken confidence in heav'n? Is this the boasted bliss of conscious virtue? When did content sigh out her cares in secret? When did felicity repine in deserts?

ASPASIA. Ill suits with guilt the gaieties of triumph; When daring vice insults eternal justice, The ministers of wrath forget compassion, And snatch the flaming bolt with hasty hand.

IRENE. Forbear thy threats, proud prophetess of ill, Vers'd in the secret counsels of the sky.

ASPASIA. Forbear!—But thou art sunk beneath reproach; In vain affected raptures flush the cheek, And songs of pleasure warble from the tongue, When fear and anguish labour in the breast, And all within is darkness and confusion. Thus, on deceitful Etna's flow'ry side, Unfading verdure glads the roving eye; While secret flames, with unextinguish'd rage, Insatiate on her wasted entrails prey, And melt her treach'rous beauties into ruin. [Enter Demetrius.

SCENE III.

ASPASIA, IRENE, DEMETRIUS.

DEMETRIUS. Fly, fly, my love! destruction rushes on us, The rack expects us, and the sword pursues.

ASPASIA. Is Greece deliver'd? is the tyrant fall'n?

DEMETRIUS. Greece is no more; the prosp'rous tyrant lives, Reserv'd for other lands, the scourge of heav'n.

ASPASIA. Say, by what fraud, what force, were you defeated? Betray'd by falsehood, or by crowds o'erborne?

DEMETRIUS. The pressing exigence forbids relation. Abdalla—

ASPASIA. Hated name! his jealous rage Broke out in perfidy—Oh! curs'd Aspasia, Born to complete the ruin of her country! Hide me, oh hide me from upbraiding Greece; Oh, hide me from myself!

DEMETRIUS. Be fruitless grief The doom of guilt alone, nor dare to seize The breast, where virtue guards the throne of peace. Devolve, dear maid, thy sorrows on the wretch, Whose fear, or rage, or treachery, betray'd us!

IRENE. aside. A private station may discover more; Then let me rid them of Irene's presence; Proceed, and give a loose to love and treason. [Withdraws

ASPASIA. Yet tell.

DEMETRIUS. To tell or hear were waste of life.

ASPASIA. The life, which only this design supported, Were now well lost in hearing how you fail'd.

DEMETRIUS. Or meanly fraudulent or madly gay, Abdalla, while we waited near the palace, With ill tim'd mirth propos'd the bowl of love. Just as it reach'd my lips, a sudden cry Urg'd me to dash it to the ground, untouch'd, And seize my sword with disencumber'd hand.

ASPASIA. What cry? The stratagem? Did then Abdalla—

DEMETRIUS. At once a thousand passions fir'd his cheek! Then all is past, he cry'd—and darted from us; Nor, at the call of Cali, deign'd to turn.

ASPASIA. Why did you stay, deserted and betray'd? What more could force attempt, or art contrive?

DEMETRIUS. Amazement seiz'd us, and the hoary bassa Stood, torpid in suspense; but soon Abdalla Return'd with force that made resistance vain, And bade his new confed'rates seize the traitors. Cali, disarm'd, was borne away to death; Myself escap'd, or favour'd, or neglected.

ASPASIA. Oh Greece! renown'd for science and for wealth, Behold thy boasted honours snatch'd away.

DEMETRIUS. Though disappointment blast our general scheme, Yet much remains to hope. I shall not call The day disastrous, that secures our flight; Nor think that effort lost, which rescues thee. [Enter Abdalla.

SCENE IV.

IRENE, ASPASIA, DEMETRIUS, ABDALLA.

ABDALLA. At length, the prize is mine—The haughty maid, That bears the fate of empires in her air, Henceforth shall live for me; for me alone Shall plume her charms, and, with attentive watch, Steal from Abdalla's eye the sign to smile.

DEMETRIUS. Cease this wild roar of savage exultation; Advance, and perish in the frantick boast.

ASPASIA. Forbear, Demetrius, 'tis Aspasia calls thee; Thy love, Aspasia, calls; restrain thy sword; Nor rush on useless wounds, with idle courage.

DEMETRIUS. What now remains?

ASPASIA. It now remains to fly!

DEMETRIUS. Shall, then, the savage live, to boast his insult; Tell, how Demetrius shunn'd his single hand, And stole his life and mistress from his sabre?

ABDALLA. Infatuate loiterer, has fate, in vain, Unclasp'd his iron gripe to set thee free? Still dost thou flutter in the jaws of death; Snar'd with thy fears, and maz'd in stupefaction?

DEMETRIUS. Forgive, my fair; 'tis life, 'tis nature calls: Now, traitor, feel the fear that chills my hand.

ASPASIA. 'Tis madness to provoke superfluous danger, And cowardice to dread the boast of folly.

ABDALLA. Fly, wretch, while yet my pity grants thee flight; The pow'r of Turkey waits upon my call. Leave but this maid, resign a hopeless claim, And drag away thy life, in scorn and safety, Thy life, too mean a prey to lure Abdalla.

DEMETRIUS. Once more I dare thy sword; behold the prize, Behold, I quit her to the chance of battle. [Quitting Aspasia.

ABDALLA. Well may'st thou call thy master to the combat, And try the hazard, that hast nought to stake; Alike my death or thine is gain to thee; But soon thou shalt repent: another moment Shall throw th' attending janizaries round thee. [Exit, hastily, Abdalla.

SCENE V.

ASPASIA, IRENE, DEMETRIUS.

IRENE. Abdalla fails; now, fortune, all is mine. [Aside. Haste, Murza, to the palace, let the sultan [To one of her attendant Despatch his guards to stop the flying traitors, While I protract their stay. Be swift and faithful. [Exit Murza. This lucky stratagem shall charm the sultan, [Aside. Secure his confidence, and fix his love.

DEMETRIUS. Behold a boaster's worth! Now snatch, my fair, The happy moment; hasten to the shore, Ere he return with thousands at his side.

ASPASIA. In vain I listen to th' inviting call Of freedom and of love; my trembling joints, Relax'd with fear, refuse to bear me forward. Depart, Demetrius, lest my fate involve thee; Forsake a wretch abandon'd to despair, To share the miseries herself has caus'd.

DEMETRIUS. Let us not struggle with th' eternal will, Nor languish o'er irreparable ruins; Come, haste and live—Thy innocence and truth Shall bless our wand'rings, and propitiate heav'n.

IRENE. Press not her flight, while yet her feeble nerves Refuse their office, and uncertain life Still labours with imaginary woe; Here let me tend her with officious care, Watch each unquiet flutter of the breast, And joy to feel the vital warmth return, To see the cloud forsake her kindling cheek, And hail the rosy dawn of rising health.

ASPASIA. Oh! rather, scornful of flagitious greatness, Resolve to share our dangers and our toils, Companion of our flight, illustrious exile, Leave slav'ry, guilt, and infamy behind.

IRENE. My soul attends thy voice, and banish'd virtue Strives to regain her empire of the mind: Assist her efforts with thy strong persuasion; Sure, 'tis the happy hour ordain'd above, When vanquish'd vice shall tyrannise no more.

DEMETRIUS. Remember, peace and anguish are before thee, And honour and reproach, and heav'n and hell.

ASPASIA. Content with freedom, and precarious greatness.

DEMETRIUS. Now make thy choice, while yet the pow'r of choice Kind heav'n affords thee, and inviting mercy Holds out her hand to lead thee back to truth.

IRENE. Stay—in this dubious twilight of conviction, The gleams of reason, and the clouds of passion, Irradiate and obscure my breast, by turns: Stay but a moment, and prevailing truth Will spread resistless light upon my soul.

DEMETRIUS. But, since none knows the danger of a moment, And heav'n forbids to lavish life away, Let kind compulsion terminate the contest. [Seizing her hand. Ye christian captives, follow me to freedom: A galley waits us, and the winds invite.