Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales Part 24

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 h.o.a.ry 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 pa.s.sage, 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 ba.s.sa's death defeats it, And grat.i.tude's strong ties restrain my tongue.

HASAN.

What ties to slaves? what grat.i.tude 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 compa.s.sion, And s.n.a.t.c.h 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--