 | Osman |  |
SCENE VII.
The Empress's Lodgings.Aphendina and Ashad.
APHENDINA.
I dread, my Father! Osman's Violence
Will hurry down Destruction on our Heads;
One general Murmur fills th'Imperial City:
The Janizaries, rank for Mutiny,
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What the Result of that will be, Heav'n knows!
ASHAD.
The melancholy Prospect gives me Pain:
I've made Remonstrances, but his great Heart,
Unshaken in Misfortune, as Tranquility,
Imputes it all to Tim'rousness in me—
“What! shall a Servant dare control his Lord?”
He cries—“I'll frown them to Obedience.”
'Twere pity, as to him, intrepid Courage
So close accompanies consummate Virtue.
Good Qualities are dauntless; Principles
Not self-condemning, dread no other Censure.
If any thing unbends his Resolution,
It must be you, my Daughter! Urge your Fears,
Intreat him for the Love of you, his Glory,
But to relax the Rigour of his Purpose,
And wait a more propitious Opportunity.
APHENDINA.
None of these Motives have escap'd my Pray'rs;
He grants me hearing with the mildest Temper,
Embraces me, and says, “I am a Woman:”
I can no more; some abler Hand than mine
Must paint our Miseries in blacker Colours.
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Will join their Voices to enforce your Reasons;
I shall be glad to hear that you prevail.
[Exeunt.
| Osman | |