University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Roxolana, Zanger.
Roxolana,
after a pause.
Why art thou silent? What hath mov'd thee thus?

Zanger.
I would have read my sentence in your eyes;
Whether they doom your son to life or death.

Roxolana.
What wouldst thou say?

Zanger.
O hear me; hear and save:
Screen my lov'd brother from the shameful fate
That hovers o'er him. Fly, prevent a father—
You only can—from plunging into blood:
And from the sting of conscience that will goad him
To his last hour.

Roxolana.
Zanger, I know thy follies.
Deaf to ambition's glorious call, and blind
To sovereign power that spreads its dazling charms,
The ruling sceptre, starry diadem,
Before thy sight and now within thy reach;
Unspirited and poor! thou wouldst depend
For food and raiment on another's nod:
Grow basely old, unactive, lost to fame,
Nor know the peasant's privilege, to eat
Thy wretched meal secure: but still unsafe,
And trembling still, each fearful hour expect,
As rage or caprice guides thy tyrant's will,
The bowl or poniard.

Zanger.
Be more just to both.
Nor would I suffer, nor will he impose,
Such brutal treatment. O you know him not:
A soul with every goodness, every worth,
Enrich'd, accomplish'd—

Roxolana.
I will hear no more.
A mother's fondness for thee bids me pity
What else my heart would scorn: and leave thy blindness
To its due portion of contempt and wrongs.
Shake off this dull simplicity of soul,
Unworthy me, defeating all my schemes
For empire and for glory. Every aim,
Th' important travel of my thoughts, is all
For thee alone. Awake, expand thy views
To greatness, and deserve my noble cares.

Zanger.
O sacred honor! does some dire illusion
Dazle my sense?—I view my self with horror!
Heaven! was I born to be the bane of virtue?
To banish from her heart, who gave me life,
All human thoughts? all goodness?

Roxolana.
Thou hast learnt
Of Mustapha! and art, I find, right apt
To profit by such lessons!—yet—be wise:
He who adopts his crimes may share his fate!

Zanger.
What are his crimes?

Roxolana.
His birth-right. He was born
To reign thy master: he might live to see
A slave in Roxolana.

Zanger.
Yet, 'tis heaven,
Not Mustapha, you should accuse.

Roxolana.
Accuse?
No; fruitless, fond complaining suits not me.
I will prevent, and punish.

Zanger.
Then strike here:
I am the criminal.

Roxolana.
Thy folly is;
Thy milky softness uninform'd, unwarm'd
By brave ambition.

Zanger.
Rather say, not sear'd
By hate, not savag'd by remorseless rage.

Roxolana.
How! does thy madness lose all reverent sense
Of love and duty to a parent due?
Unnatural and ingrate!

Zanger.
What is my fault?

Roxolana.
All I am doing for thee.

Zanger.
Have I wish'd?
Have I contriv'd that guilt?

Roxolana.
Yet is it thine.
The guilt is his who profits by it.

Zanger.
No:
Such gains my soul renounces. Can a world
A purchas'd world advantage him, who pays
His virtue for the purchase?—Yet recall,
My mother, O recall your better mind,
[he kneels.
That feeling pity, that soft sense of goodness,
The grace and glory of the gentler sex.
Now, Madam, while the Sultan's awful will
Yet wavers unresolv'd; address his mercy,
His justice, save him from the worst of crimes!
These moments are most precious—

Roxolana.
Zanger, rise,
And heedful mark me—'tis my last advice,
My kindest—Rouse thee from this dreaming fondness,
This soul-debasing narrowness of purpose.
Resolve to second me, to aid my views;
Or share thy brother's fate.

Zanger.
His fate I envy.
He dies with all his virtue, all his fame:
Nor is his parting soul insulted, poison'd,
By such dire offers—Gracious heaven!

Roxolana.
Go on.

Zanger.
I dare not: nature, honor, cheque my tongue.

Roxolana.
'Tis well—thou voluntary wretch! henceforth
I hold thee as an alien to my love.
Tremble. This hand may send thee—

Zanger.
Should it prove
Another murderous present—

Roxolana.
Ha!

Zanger.
'Twould be
More welcome than an empire on such terms.

Roxolana.
Thy choice be thine. I cast thee from my heart;
Renounce thee; know thee for no son of mine.
Thou slave in soul! this moment is thy last:
This moment joins thee to thy brother's doom!
[returning.
Zanger—be warn'd.—I feel I love thee still—
The mother rises o'er the woman's rage,
And bids me spare thee—'Tis thy cause I plead—
Inhuman! why are all my cares, my labors,
If not for thee!—Reply not: but obey—
Thou seest my tears: in them the parent see—
Distract me not: my life is in thy hands,
My fame, my all on earth!—Remember too,
That from this hour my blessing, or my curse,
Is thine for ever!