 | Mustapha |  |
130
SCENE V.
Zanger, Rustan.Zanger.
Rustan! yes,
Alone and musing—Soft: I will repress
Th' indignant rage my honest bosom swells with,
And speak him fair.
Rustan.
I heard a noise—Prince Zanger!
Zanger.
You seem wrapt up in meditation, Vizir.
Rustan.
I have been thinking what sweet peace attends
The homely shepherd's life.
Zanger.
Can such a life
Provoke a great man's envy?
Rustan.
Sir, forgive me:
I must attend the Sultan.
Zanger.
Vizir, stay:
The Sultan is retir'd. I saw and mark'd
His visage, ruffled with tempestuous passions.
I know the dreadful cause: thou too must know,
Some instant peril menaces a life
That mine but lives in. Rustan, by the names,
The sacred names of honor and renown!
Now join thy influence with mine, and save
The noblest of his race.
131
Save whom, young Prince?
Zanger.
Whom! holds the world a second Mustapha?
Vizir, believe me, this one glorious deed,
Were thy life stain'd and foul with every crime,
Would wash out all.
Rustan.
You much amaze me, Prince.
Is it for me to trace the secret springs
That act my sovereign's will? or cross its workings?
Be far that curious rashness from my thought.
But what alarms you thus? I have not learnt
What fate impends o'er Mustapha—and yet
Suppose—'twere death.
Zanger.
Ha! Vizir—
Rustan.
Yours, my Lord,
Is all the gain.
Zanger.
O Prophet!
Rustan.
He remov'd,
You are this empire's heir.
Zanger.
By that sole Being
Who governs all events! I would not reign,
In wrong to him, the master of mankind.
Rustan.
Fine air-built notions, Prince. The wise have thought,
That power, howe'er acquir'd, is sovereign good.
Devoted to your service, let me speak
With useful freedom. Be advis'd in time;
132
And may to you prove fatal.
Zanger.
Sure thou dost not,
All-statesman as thou art, thou canst not mean
The horrors thou hast utter'd? Were I, Vizir,
This empire's lord, my first, my dearest care,
Should be rewarding thee, even to the full,
For giving righteous counsel.
Rustan.
My advice
Bespeaks my hearty love, and merits not
Such harsh and proud return.
Zanger.
Thou earth-born slave!—
I thought to have restrain'd me—but thy baseness
Arrouses me beyond dissembling.—No:
Thy counsel perish with thee—Heaven! is he,
Are such as he the men whom princes trust?
And must the fate, the safety or destruction
Of millions, each less guilty than himself,
Hang on the breath of one whom thou must hate?
O providence! is human race no more
The object of thy care?—Why end I not,
Even here, his life and crimes?
Rustan.
Prince, have a care:
Nay handle not your sword. These starts of youth,
Swelling and frantic, touch not, move not me.
Yet know—that but for her, my royal mistress,
Who loves thee, and to whom my duty bends—
This threat may cost thee dear.
| Mustapha | |