Huniades ; or the Seige of Belgrade :: :: University of Virginia Library

HUNIADES, VILACH, MUSTAPHA, HUNGARIAN OFFICERS AND SOLDIERS.
VILACH
(stopping Huniades).
Your valour wings you to forget your orders;
“Not to pursue the Foe beyond the Camp.”

HUNIADES
(going).
Mahomet is here. My sword shall free mankind—

(Cannon on the side to which Huniades is going.)

126

VILACH.
Pursue him not. The cannon are come round;
(A discharge of cannon.)
Our soldiers fire upon the flying Sultan.

HUNIADES
(returning).
Prudence indeed forbids us the pursuit.
(Another discharge of cannon.)
What right good service has their Ordnance done us!
Mahomet may fall by his own dreadful enginery:
Some Heaven-sent shot may execute that justice,
Which Providence denies my trusty sword.

VILACH,
(Seeing Huniades lean fainting upon the Officer next to him).
General, you droop!—Your wounds I fear are mortal?
Alas! if great Huniades survive not,
Though the Turks quit the field, they conquer Us.
If you be lost, our hearts will be subdued.
Like dastards shall we fall, and not like men.

(The Soldiers who fought against the Turks when Mahomet is forced away, return with the royal Turkish standard.)
HUNIADES
(looking at the standard).
Belgrade is sav'd. Grieve not for me, my friend!
I thought my death, though certain, not thus near.
Think not of me, the Princess claims your aid:

127

Unless found here, brave Friends! pursue the foe,
At any risk.

MUSTAPHA
(pointing to the inner tent).
She is within that tent.

HUNIADES
(extremely faint).
Thanks for her safety, Heaven! That care is o'er.

VILACH.
Oh! must this Day be mention'd but with tears!
These wondrous acts be told but to record,
How much this day we lose, in losing thee?

HUNIADES.
Bathe not our laurels with your tears, my Friends!
Our Virgins, Matrons, Children, Sires, are sav'd;
Rejoice! Exult! We fought, we bled, we conquer'd.
The glorious work of Freedom is achiev'd,
Yon field is won. The struggle is no more.
From Infidels our Country is redeem'd,
Our infant King in safety wears his Crown.

(Sinks faint.)
VILACH.
Must our bright Sun, in his meridian blaze,
Be veil'd in night? his light and warmth withdrawn,
His course of glory stemm'd in mid career?

HUNIADES
(reviving).

Lament not thus: for long has been my course;

128

And war has with no common favour spar'd me.
My Friends! I led your Grandsires to the field:
Aiding my arm, your valiant Fathers bled.
My glory is not stemm'd in mid career:
Death comes but when my age demands repose.
My wounds, though mortal, yet have miss'd my heart:
My strength returns, my spirits feel renew'd.
(Kneels.)
Leader of armies! King of Kings! accept
The silent tribute of thy Servants' hearts,
Till with due Rites, their solemn sacrifice,
They grateful pay, for this their bless'd deliv'rance.
Resign'd to thy decrees, I wait for death;
Thankful that, when thou call'st me hence, my debt
To Nature, in my Country's cause, is paid.
Bless our young Monarch with his People's love;
His People bless, as they to him prove faithful.

(Rises.)

Vilach! take you the conduct of the field,
And let my care devolve on you my friend.

VILACH.
Hard is the task to follow thee in fame.
But must I leave thee thus, struggling with death?

HUNIADES.
Companion of my Wars! my brother! friend!
We yet shall meet again.

VILACH.
Heaven grant we may!