 | The Orphan of China |  |
5
SCENE II.
Idamè, Zamti, Asseli.Idamè.
O say, unhappy Zamti,
Is then our slavery, our woe determin'd?
Ah! what hast thou beheld?
Zamti.
The height of horrors.
Our fortune's fixt, and China is no more.
Beneath the stranger sword all falls. Ah! what avail'd
A life of virtue? Fair peace smil'd in vain;
In vain our laws gave pattern to the world;
Grey wisdom dies by brutal violence.
I saw the savage troop of northern ruffians
Making their way in blood, o'er slaughter'd heaps.
Carrying the sword and fire. In crowds they sought
The sacred mansion of our hapless Monarch.
He with majestick brow expected death,
And held within his arms his fainting Queen.
Those of their children, whose increasing valour
Began to grow with years, whose little arms
Could wield a sword, were all already fall'n.
Round them clung those, whose tender infancy
Had nought but cries and tears for their defence.
While they press'd round him, and embrac'd his knees,
I by a secret path approach'd the place,
And view'd with horror the unhappy father.
I saw those fiends, those monsters of the desart,
Lifting the murd'rous steel against our King,
And thro' the palace drag with bloody hands
The father, children, and their dying mother.
While all was fury, havock, death, and plunder,
6
And thus address'd me in the sacred tongue
Unknown to th'conqu'ring Tartar and the people,
O save at least from death my youngest son!
Think, if I did not swear I would preserve him,
O think, how loudly duty call'd upon me.
I felt my fainting spirits new revived;
Hither I flew. The bloody ravishers
Stopt not my passage: whether hideous joy,
Intent on plunder, turn'd their eyes aside;
Whether this badge of my most rev'rend office,
This symbol of the God that I adore,
Struck their fierce souls with awe; or Heav'n itself
Determin'd to preserve this Royal Infant,
Athwart their watchful eyes dim mists suffus'd,
Dazzled their sight, and mollified their rage.
Idamè.
Yes, we will save him. Be this royal charge
With our dear child away convey'd, and bred,
Despair not, but with haste prepare our flight:
Let Etan have the care of our depart,
And fly tow'rds Corea; to the ocean side,
Where, the sea girds this mournful universe.
The earth has desarts and wild savages.
Away then with these infants, while the foe
Invades not yet this sanctified asylum.
Come, time is precious, and complaint in vain.
Zamti.
Alas! has then the race of kings no refuge!—
The troops from Corea linger in their march.
Mean while destruction rages in our walls:
Seize we, if possible, th'auspicious moment
To place in surety this our precious charge.
| The Orphan of China | |