University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Gengis, Osman, Guards.
Gengis.
Have they clear'd up th'imposture of these slaves?
Their crime detected, and reveng'd my wrongs?
Say, is this phantom of a prince, their care,
Restor'd at last to Octar?

Osman.
All's confusion.
This steady Mandarine, at sight of torture,
Persisted in his answer undismay'd,
And seem'd upon his brow to carry truth.
His trembling wife by tears alone replied,
Still fairer, and more beautiful in grief.
Spite of our manly spirit, our rough souls
Were soften'd into pity: never ought
So beauteous struck our sight. This hapless fair
Demands to throw her at your Highness' feet.
“Let the great Conqueror of Kings but hear me!
“Let him protect an infant's innocence!
“Even in his anger I will hope for mercy;
“Since he's all-powerful he will be noble.
“Can he refuse the cries of the unhappy?”
'Tis thus she spoke; and I would fain have promis'd
That you'd admit her to your royal presence.

Gengis.
Yes, I will know what means this mystery.
[To his train.
Let her come; go, and strait conduct her hither.
Let her not think by whinings and complainings,
By deep-fetch'd sighs, and some few idle drops,
To blind the eyes of caution or revenge.
The women of this place can ne'er abuse me:
Too well, alas! I know their faithless tears,
And my firm heart hath long been steel'd against them.
She seeks a boon on which her fate depends.
And if she tries to practise on my faith,
She meets with certain death.

Osman.
My Lord, she comes.

Gengis.
What do I see! is't possible? O Heaven!
Do I not dream? and is't not all delusion?
'Tis Idamè; 'tis she, and my rapt soul—