 | The Sultaness |  |
SCENE III.
Roxana, Zatima.Roxa.
All Things are prepar'd,
Fierce Orcan, and the Mutes expect their Victim.
Yet am I still the Mistress of his Fate;
And can defer it:—But, shou'd he attempt
One Step beyond his Bounds, he dies.—Say, Zatima,
How did he take my Message? Will he come?
Zat.
Suspecting not his Destiny so near,
He seem'd with Pleasure to obey the Summons,
And now a Slave conducts him to your Presence.
Roxa.
—Abject,—and poor of Spirit! justly scorn'd!
And only fit to be deceiv'd!—Can'st thou
Submit to let him come; and bear again
To see him triumph over all thy Weakness?
Think'st thou to frighten, or perswade his Soul?
Or shou'd he yield, can'st thou consent to pardon?
No, no!—Too long he has abus'd my Fondness!
I will no more attempt his harden'd Heart:
No!—Let him perish quick!—But see; he comes.
| The Sultaness | |