 | The Sultaness |  |
SCENE XI.
Atalida, Acomat, Zara, Osmyn.Acomat.
Say, is Roxana dead?
Osm.
I saw the Assassin
Draw the warm reeking Poniard from her Breast;
Orcan, to whom the Secret was intrusted,
Made shew of Friendship to insure her Ruin.
It seems the Sultan had dispatch'd him hither
To sacrifice the Lovers, one by one—
As we advanc'd our Arms, he cry'd aloud,
“Ye Mussulmen, behold your Sultan's Orders,
“Fall prostrate, and adore the sacred Signet;
“Hence ye profane, and quit this holy Palace.
Draw the warm reeking Poniard from her Breast;
Orcan, to whom the Secret was intrusted,
Made shew of Friendship to insure her Ruin.
It seems the Sultan had dispatch'd him hither
To sacrifice the Lovers, one by one—
As we advanc'd our Arms, he cry'd aloud,
“Ye Mussulmen, behold your Sultan's Orders,
“Fall prostrate, and adore the sacred Signet;
“Hence ye profane, and quit this holy Palace.
Thus having spoke, he left the Sultaness
Weltring in Blood upon the Marble Pavement;
Then, marching forwards, with his goary Hands
Full in our Sight, display'd the fatal Mandate
That authoriz'd his Murders. Stung with Rage,
We rush'd upon him, and with lifted Sabres
Aveng'd on him the Death of—Bajazet.
Weltring in Blood upon the Marble Pavement;
Then, marching forwards, with his goary Hands
Full in our Sight, display'd the fatal Mandate
That authoriz'd his Murders. Stung with Rage,
We rush'd upon him, and with lifted Sabres
Aveng'd on him the Death of—Bajazet.
Ata.
Of Bajazet!
Acom.
What say'st thou?
Osm.
He is dead,
Knew you not this?
Atal.
Oh Heaven!—
Osm.
The Sultaness!
Lost in her Fears, distrustful of your Succours,
Abandon'd to her Mutes his precious Life:
In vain I felt his Corps for vital Warmth;
Breathless he lay upon a Heap of Slain,
Grasping a Sabre deeply drench'd in Blood:
A Croud of Slaves, enobled by his Hand,
Accompany'd his Fall, and like a Hero
He brav'd his Foes, and triumph'd even in Death.
Lost in her Fears, distrustful of your Succours,
Abandon'd to her Mutes his precious Life:
In vain I felt his Corps for vital Warmth;
Breathless he lay upon a Heap of Slain,
Grasping a Sabre deeply drench'd in Blood:
A Croud of Slaves, enobled by his Hand,
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He brav'd his Foes, and triumph'd even in Death.
But, Sir, since all is lost, we must be speedy
To save our selves, and make a quick Retreat.
To save our selves, and make a quick Retreat.
Acom.
My cruel Stars! to what am I reduc'd!
Madam, I feel your Loss in Bajazet;
It wou'd be fruitless now to offer Comfort;
Indulge your Fears, and give a loose to Sorrow.
Madam, I feel your Loss in Bajazet;
It wou'd be fruitless now to offer Comfort;
Indulge your Fears, and give a loose to Sorrow.
Life is not worth my Care; but I must live
To save my Friends, intangled in my Guilt.
To save my Friends, intangled in my Guilt.
For you, fair Princess, whose disastrous Love
Wou'd melt the most obdurate Mind to pity;
If in some distant Climate you wou'd lose
The said Remembrance of this mournful Place;
My faithful Friends shall wait upon your Will,
And guide you wheresoe're your Wishes lead:
Wou'd melt the most obdurate Mind to pity;
If in some distant Climate you wou'd lose
The said Remembrance of this mournful Place;
My faithful Friends shall wait upon your Will,
And guide you wheresoe're your Wishes lead:
Think, Madam, while I yet command this Palace.
Ata.
Then farewel all!—My groundless Jealousies,
My base Suspicions, my capricious Fears,
And wicked Arts, have murder'd Bajazet.
Roxana and the Sultan both are Guiltless.
Have I then lov'd thee, only to destroy thee?
And can I bear the racking Thought and live!
—Enough, Atalida!—It must not be—
O ye immortal Spirits of his Race!
That hop'd to live again in Bajazet,
Whose Glory and Repose I have prophan'd:
Thou, Mother, who first gav'st his Heart to me,
Presaging Blessings from our early Loves:
Thou injur'd Vizier; you despairing Friends,
And thou Roxana—all assist my Purpose;
Urge on the Rage of my distracted Soul,
And take, at last, the Vengeance which I owe.
[Kills her self.
Osm.
Wrest from her Hand the Poniard.
Ata.
I have done.
Zara.
Alas! she faints; she dies.
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Unhappy Maid!
It had been cruel to prevent the Stroke,
Since Death alone cou'd finish thy Misfortunes.
Ata.
Oh Bajazet! receive me, I am thine.
Zara.
Oh, my lov'd Princess!
Acom.
Our Companions wait;
The Galleys stand prepar'd; we must be gone.
Osmyn, do thou convey the Lovers hence;
Let their Remains be plac'd on Board my Vessel;
I will my self, in happier Climes, erect
Their lasting Monument; 'tis fit one Tomb
Should hold them both, whom Love and Fate have join'd.
The Galleys stand prepar'd; we must be gone.
Osmyn, do thou convey the Lovers hence;
Let their Remains be plac'd on Board my Vessel;
I will my self, in happier Climes, erect
Their lasting Monument; 'tis fit one Tomb
Should hold them both, whom Love and Fate have join'd.
The Tyrant shall not, with a barbarous Pride,
His glorious Brother's mangled Corps deride:
In other Worlds Roxana shall despair,
And soft Atalida no Rival fear:
She of her faithful Bajazet possess'd,
Shall find, what greatly was on Earth confess'd,
In endless Paradise is greatly blest.
His glorious Brother's mangled Corps deride:
In other Worlds Roxana shall despair,
And soft Atalida no Rival fear:
She of her faithful Bajazet possess'd,
Shall find, what greatly was on Earth confess'd,
In endless Paradise is greatly blest.
| The Sultaness | |