Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales - Part 18
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Part 18

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 ba.s.sa, 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 r.e.t.a.r.d 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' a.s.sa.s.sin 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 G.o.d.

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 pa.s.sions.

Now haste to mingle in one common centre.

And fate lies crowded in a narrow s.p.a.ce.

Yet, in that narrow s.p.a.ce 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.