Mustapha :: :: University of Virginia Library

Solyman, Mustapha.
Mustapha.
You speak not, Sir;
You see me not. If I appear before you,
Tho' guiltless, with confusion; not these bonds,
Nor what more fatal may ensue alarms me:

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The man who knows no crime should know no fear:
And yet a father's frown can shake my heart.
Sir, if I may be heard; if innocence
Thus wrong'd and suffering—

Solyman.
I will cheque the storm
That heaves within, and would o'erflow all bounds.
Justice alone shall try him and condemn.
And yet—shall treason thus, detected treason,
Profane the language of fair loyalty?

Mustapha.
Treason! O by my soul's immortal life,
This curst sedition less offended you,
Than it afflicted your unhappy son.

Solyman.
Of that my heart has labour'd to acquit thee.
Turn this way: raise thine eyes aloft to mine,
And fix their beams with steady gaze upon me—
“Who knows no crime, thou sayst, should know no fear.”
Now answer me—Art thou not join'd in league?
In hellish compact with thy father's foes?
Art thou not—married?

Mustapha.
Heaven!

Solyman.
Ha! does this truth
Flash just conviction on thee? strike thee dumb?
Now, whither is thy confidence of tongue,
Thy daring licence fled?

Mustapha.
Then—farewel, Hope!
Yet—let me die the same I still have liv'd,
Above all falsehood, all dissimulation.
I am, my Lord: and but for that mad tumult,
Which broke our evening's talk abruptly off,
(So angry heaven decreed) I had even then,
In all the plainness of discovery, laid

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The secret at your feet; from full belief,
My action, try'd by candor as by justice,
Must have procur'd forgiveness to my self;
And to Emira, crown'd with every grace,
With every virtue bright, your tenderest love.
May I proceed!

Solyman.
Proceed? What canst thou add,
What can I hear, but rising proofs on proofs,
That I am miserable, thou most base?

Mustapha.

I plead not now for life: nor would I hold it
Dishonor'd by a father's deep distrust,
Embitter'd by his hate. I would but lighten
Th' imputed guilt that weighs upon my name.

My foes, I knew, my unrelenting foes
Were high in your regard, trusted, belov'd;
Attach'd with no less faith to you, than fix'd
And in close league combin'd—to ruin me.
Their power in all its dark extent I saw;
Its baleful influence felt. The law of heaven,
The voice of reason, urg'd me to preserve
My self from death, my father from a crime.
Against inveterate, unabating hate,
I sought protection, sought a sure retreat:
And found it in the Persian monarch's love.
Weary of war's fell ravage, wishing rest,
He gave his blooming daughter to my arms,
And with her those fair provinces your sword
Had won and lost by turns; to be annex'd
For ever to your empire, on such terms
Of peace, as you and justice might approve.
Behold, my Lord, even in its last recess,
The heart of Mustapha!

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Solyman.
Well—thou hast said.
Is there aught more?

Mustapha.
My Lord, to life or death
Indifferent, as impatient of dishonor,
Resign'd, unfearing, I expect my fate.
But oh—Emira!—On my knee, for her,
Who but for being mine had been most happy,
I beg a father's dear regard.

Solyman.
Retire.