 | The Apostate |  |
SCENE I.
Grenada stands in moonlight at some distance. Mosques and Palaces are seen in the perspective.Enter Malec and Haly, at the head of the Moors. (The moon appears in a crescent.)
Mal.
Behold Grenada, Moors!
Hal.
When the sun sunk
From yon high cliffs we scarce beheld its tow'rs
Set in the bright horizon's golden round.
Now, ere the auspicious night has pass'd its noon,
We stand before the city of our fathers.
Mal.
Hemeya's life has wing'd your rapid march,
And, tho' the drops of labour dew'd your brows,
You triumph in the toil.—Behold Grenada!
There stand the tow'rs our fathers rais'd to heav'n,
To be the residence of Moorish kings.
Those silver spires, those magic palaces,—
The work of Arab art, the Alhambra's dome,
Are now the tenements of infidels;
And 'tis not fitting, Moors—
72
Well, faithful Hamet,
Have you secur'd the sentinels?
Ham.
We have—
And from their lips have learnt
That in the Alhambra's prison lies our prince.
Mal.
There then we speed, to burst its pond'rous gates,
And lead him forth to glory!—Not in vain
Pescara chose that dungeon, for its walls
Hold hidden murder in their hollow womb!
Ham.
They tell, besides, that thro' Grenada's streets
There hath been joyaunce and wild revelry.
The garrison lie slumb'ring in debauch,
And will but wake to perish.
Mal.
Let the scimitar
Be undefil'd by blood of innocence.
Come on!—'tis Heav'n conducts us—See, my friends,
In the pure azure, where the crescent shines,
And seems our glorious standard!—Let us on;
And, as we go, let ev'ry patriot breast
Be fill'd with trust, to see the diadem
Shine on your prince's brow!—I long to clasp him,
To rush into his prison, burst his chains,
And from a dungeon lead him to a throne!
[Exeunt.
| The Apostate | |