Huniades ; or the Seige of Belgrade a Tragedy |
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| 5. | SCENE FIFTH. |
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 | Huniades ; or the Seige of Belgrade |  |
SCENE FIFTH.
MAHOMET, THE PRINCESS.(The Aga conducting the Princess; a Guard enters with her; an untwisted turban covering her face as a veil: the Aga takes it off, and then retires.)
MAHOMET
(as the veil is taking off the Princess).
This is a prize well worth a kingdom's contest!
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Prince! I thy justice claim. The faith of Nations
Is, by thy treacherous servants, violated.
A Truce protected them; but they profan'd
Its sanctity; and from an Altar tore me.
Redress this wrong; give me safe conduct back.
MAHOMET.
Princess! I would forego my throne, my life,
Sooner than part with her, whose charms would add
Splendour to Empire, Paradise to earth.
My faithful servants' zeal deserves my praise;
I sent them for thee; sent them for my Bride.
PRINCESS.
Thy Bride! Alas! thou know'st not, Prince, the wrong
I have sustain'd; I'm torn from all my soul
Esteems; from all my anguish'd heart holds dear;
Torn, from each social bliss, from life, from joy,
From honour, from the Husband of my love.
Restore me then, to all these sacred ties,
By thy own Christian Mother , I conjure thee!
MAHOMET.
No ties exist which can withstand my claims.
What Husband, Princess! That mean slave, Corvinus,
Shall not exult in such a beauteous Wife,
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More fair than are the Daughters of our Paradise;
Worthy to share in Mahomet's soft retirement,
When war relaxes his stern brow, and gives
An interval of peace, to taste repose:
Then will he joyful wear Agmunda's chains;
And own, no other Deity, but Love.
Oh, to possess thy heart! that when I come
From conquest, thou may'st fly to meet me, chide
My thirst for fame, yet glory in my laurels:
Then tell me, how thou hadst thought, lov'd, dreamt of me.—
I hail thee, charming Princess! my Sultana;
Sweet partner of my Imperial bed and throne;
For, by the Soul of my great Father Amurath,
By this good Sword, I swear ne'er to resign—
(During the greatest part of this speech, the Princess seems absorbed in deep thought, and solemn grief; her eyes bent on the ground. When Mahomet says, “ne'er to resign—” with a sudden burst of anguish and terrour, as of one awaked in a fright, she throws herself at the Sultan's feet.)
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End not thy oath, I solemnly adjure thee!
MAHOMET
(offering to raise her, she rises).
'Tis sworn already, I cannot resign thee;
For by my Father's Soul the Oath was sworn,
And 'tis so sacred, did our Prophet live,
Not he himself could with the Vow dispense.
Thou shalt exult in Mahomet's ardent love,
Thy every wish prevented, thy whole life
One splendid feast of sumptuous delight.
PRINCESS.
Since the sole benefit I could accept,
Thou dost refuse; know, in the whole, wide range,
Of all thy power, thou hast nought left to give,
Worthy Agmunda's thanks, except a grave.
MAHOMET.
No, beauteous Scorner! no; a tomb ill suits
Thy youth. Whole ages of delight await us;
Thou my Sultana, I thy humble Slave.
PRINCESS.
I am the Wife of an illustrious Hero:
My hand and heart are to Corvinus given.
Respect the sacred tie of nuptial Faith.
MAHOMET.
Fate has dissolv'd it. For you are my Slave.
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The truce was void. Fate has decreed you mine.
PRINCESS.
My Faith is pledg'd. I never can be yours.
Your prophet, Sultan! has forbidden marriage
With one who is a wife.—Revere his law.
MAHOMET.
With a free woman, marriage is forbidden.
But my bond Slave , although her Husband live,
I by my Law may wed.
PRINCESS.
Or Slave, or free,
I am Corvinus' Wife. Marriage with thee,
E'en if I were thy Slave, my Law would punish.
MAHOMET.
Renounce thy Christian Worship;—own our Prophet.
PRINCESS,
(Regarding Mahomet for a moment with haughtiness and contempt).
Forsake my everlasting Hope!—For what?
The privilege to quit a noble Husband,
Whom I adore for his unblemish'd honour,
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Forsake my God! that I may wed a Tyrant,
Whom my soul spurns at, and my heart abhors!
MAHOMET.
What's thy resistance, to a Monarch's power?
Thy scorn may, to resentment, turn my love.
Thou hast forgotten then, that I am Mahomet?
Whose frown annihilates the wretch it lights on;
Whose least displeasure is such certain Death,
The stoutest Warriour trembles to excite it.
PRINCESS,
(With a swiftness, as if some sudden illumination of thought at that instant struck her).
I, with unspeakable contempt, behold it.
Scoff at this dreaded tyrant, who could send
Thousands of slaves, beneath a lying embassy,
To seize one Woman. Heavens! Art thou a Prince?
Where, is the honour, that should grace thy rank,
And give its brightest splendour to a throne?
Thou base, dishonourable, treacherous, coward!
MAHOMET,
(Half drawing his sabre, but sheathing it as he speaks).
Audacious Fair! that coward's power can crush thee;
Make thy proud soul, with fear, shrink shuddering,
And, prostrate in the dust, implore his mercy.
PRINCESS.
Derision, and not fear, thy taunts inspire.
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Behold! a Woman braves, a woman scorns thee.
Her Soul superiour, lords it o'er thy Spirit;
Which aw'd, and cow'ring, droops before its greater.
Thou, Mahomet! Thou! appall'd shrink'st shudd'ring,
(Mahomet lays his hand on his sabre.)
Before a Christian foe, before thy Captive.—
The Daughter of that sceptred Ancestry,
The constant scourge of thy barbarian Race,
Protected by thy fear, defies thy sword;
Disdains thy mercy; she would shew thee none:
The axe of Justice on thy neck should fall,
And rid mankind of Thee! their dire disgrace.
Know, trembling coward! that I fear thee not.
Thou dar'st not take my life.
(Mahomet in a rage draws his sabre, having kept his hand upon it during the latter part of this speech, advancing to strike the Princess, she advances.)
MAHOMET,
(Turning away, and dropping the point of his sabre, leans upon it).
I will not kill her.
(The instant that the Princess perceives that he will not kill her, she retreats from him.)
PRINCESS.
Tyrant! art thou in abjectness, so sunk,
That thou hast not one generous vice? Hast thou
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Rouse thee to anger, Prince! Do not, when scoff'd,
And coward call'd, forego a signal vengeance.
Wreak thy revenge against an insolent foe,
Who lives, but to revile thee.
MAHOMET.
At thy call,
I wake to rage, resentment, and revenge.
Soon I'll repay thee this vindictive scorn.
I see thy drift, Agmunda! Thou would'st die,
And me, the instrument of death, would make.
Thou bidd'st me vengeance take,—and I will take it.
(Sheaths his sabre. Terrour takes possession of the Princess's countenance for an instant.)
For thou shalt live. I'll seize by force, proud Woman!
Those charms which vainly I have stoop'd to sue for.
(Mahomet advances to seize her; she draws the Dagger from her bosom that Corvinus had given her as the pledge of his loyalty to her Brother. Retreating as she speaks, holding the Dagger fast clenched in her hand, in readiness to strike it into her bosom. Mahomet starts at seeing it, and, perceiving her intention to stab herself, does not advance.)
PRINCESS
(with a resolute, solemn voice).
This Dagger guards my Husband's honour, Sultan.
If thou approach, I strike it to my heart.
Death from dishonour saves me, and from thee.
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Prince! I dare pay that awful debt to Virtue,
Which I to Nature owe. And I will die,
On the most slight suspicion of Dishonour:
The moment that alarms my wakeful fears,
Remember—is my last.
MAHOMET,
(Striving to restrain his rage, and disappointment).
To save thy life,
I promise, that thy honour shall be safe.
PRINCESS.
Sultan! I thank thee. O! relent, and make
The life thou deign'st to save, a blessing to me.
Redeem thy honour, and retrieve thy glory;
Win, by thy noble conduct, my esteem;
Yet, yet, be just; permit me to depart!
MAHOMET
(with gloomy haughtiness).
Unless thou wilt, this hour, consent to wed me,
Thou art my Slave no longer.
PRINCESS
(with joy and exultation).
Unbounded gratitude,
My heart repays thee, noble, generous, Sultan!
May joy, like mine, irradiate ev'ry gloom,
That dark despair upon thy mind may cast.
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(fiercely).
Forbear thy thanks.—For since, imprudent Princess!
Thou dar'st disdain my love, I here resign thee.—
Thou art my Slave no longer—I bestow thee
Upon the vilest Tartar in my camp:
The prince thou scorn'st makes thee a reptile's slave.
(The Princess raising her dagger.)
(Mahomet hastily.)
Thy honour shall be safe—fifty brave Janizaries
Shall be thy guard, to keep thee from all danger.
In this, thy bondage, there is no dishonour.
It is affliction only, such affliction—
(Looking at her with the most taunting scorn.)
As Christian Slaves must patient bear, and live.
PRINCESS,
(With extreme anguish, looking up to Heaven).
This—is affliction's iron hand indeed.
All gracious heaven! for my one, deep offence,
Let this dire retribution make atonement.
In mercy, guard me from my own despair;
And give me fortitude to meet my fate!
(Panting with terrour, she supports herself by the drapery of the tent.)
MAHOMET.
Art thou then, obstinately bent, to brave me?
(With entreaty, mingled with admiration.)
Think of thy youth, the graces of thy form,
Thy ev'ry elegance, thy winning charms,
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To a curs'd fate, that chills my heart with horrour.
Wilt thou not deign to deprecate thy doom?
PRINCESS.
If there be aught of human in thy heart,
Say, by what virtuous means I may awaken it.
The following is the Oath of the Turkish Sultans. “By the Immortal God, by the four hundred Prophets, by Mahomet, by my Father's Soul, by my own Children, by the Sword wherewith I am girt, I solemnly swear to perform what I have now promised.” This Oath was sworn by Mahomet at the sacking of Constantinople, 1453, three years before the Era of this Tragedy, when he promised the soldiers, that if they could take the City, they should have the spoil of it for three days.
| Huniades ; or the Seige of Belgrade | |