Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales - Part 21
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Part 21

ASPASIA.

Enough--resistless reason calms my soul-- Approving justice smiles upon your cause, And nature's rights entreat th' a.s.serting 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 pa.s.sion, Drive int'rest, love, and vengeance, from thy thoughts; Fill all thy ardent breast with Greece and virtue; Then strike secure, and heav'n a.s.sist the blow!

DEMETRIUS.

Thou kind a.s.sistant 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 n.o.ble thought and gen'rous emulation, Now but reflects those beams that flow'd from thee.

DEMETRIUS.

With native l.u.s.tre 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, hara.s.s'd with alternate pa.s.sions, Now hopes, now fears--

DEMETRIUS.

Th' anxieties of love.

ASPASIA.

Think, how the sov'reign arbiter of kingdoms Detests thy false a.s.sociates' 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 h.e.l.l, With mad devotion idolizes honour.

The ba.s.sa, 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 s.n.a.t.c.h'd away Demetrius, Shall guard Aspasia from triumphant l.u.s.t.

DEMETRIUS.

Dismiss these needless fears--a troop of Greeks, Well known, long try'd, expect us on the sh.o.r.e.

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 t.i.tles, 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.