University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Mustapha, Achmet, Heli, Osman, Soldiers.
Mustapha,
at the door of the tent, to the soldiers who had followed him.
My friends and fellow-soldiers, I accept
Well pleas'd, these kind expressions of your love;
As meant in honor of our common Lord,
While thus you grace his son. But leave me now,
And each attend his duty.—Heli, go,
Watch near Emira; bid her be of comfort:
Say all is well.—Good Osman, find my brother,
My Zanger: I would meet him here.—Oh Achmet!
Faithful instructor of my youth in arms,
These shouts, this honest transport of the army,
That had been musick in the front of battle,
Is discord here!

Achmet.
Now by fair faith and honor!
I felt my heart spring high within my bosom,
And answer to th' effusions of their joy.
Their shouts, their acclamations swell'd to passion.

Mustapha.
Ah, friend—these acclamations will undo me!

Achmet.
What says my Prince?

Mustapha.
For those, whom sovereign power
Beholds with jealous eye, to be belov'd
Is to be guilty!

Achmet.
What can malice forge
To raise a doubt against you? Have you not
Fulfill'd all duties of a son and servant?
In peace, most true and loyal to your father:
In war, your sword has ever been employ'd,
And ever with success, against his foes.
What would he more?—Suspected? no, my Lord,
The Sultan truely loves you.

Mustapha.
Bred in camps,
Train'd in the gallant openness of truth
That best becomes a soldier; thou, my friend,
Art happily a stranger to the baseness,
The infamy of courts.—Achmet, the Caspian,
When terrible with tempest, is less fatal
To the frail bark that plows it, than a court
To innocence and worth. A stepdame's hatred,
Hatred implacable, because unjust;
A Vizir, meanly cunning, coolly cruel,
Grown old in arts of treachery and ruin,
Pursue me, hunt me down! And what can I,
Unpractis'd in all guile, oppose to dark
And deadly rage?—the breath of publick praise!
An empty name—that will but speed my ruin!

Achmet.
Why should they be your foes? why hate the worth
That never injur'd them?—Forgive me, heaven!
Could I believe so basely of mankind,
I would renounce their fellowship, and seek
The silvan wild, to herd with nobler brutes.
How can this be? All things around us wear
A face of peace and silence.

Mustapha.
Such the silence,
The fearful stillness, ere the thunder bursts!
Else whence this boding solitude? this tent
By all forsaken, even the meanest slaves?
As we had sent the pestilence before,
Our mortal harbinger!—But be it so.
True valor, friend, on virtue founded strong,
Meets all events alike.

Achmet.
Ah, Prince, 'twas cruel—
Forgive my honest love—'twas most unkind
To hide these apprehensions from your friend:
And now, too late, disclose the fatal secret.
But was it not most rash, if such your fears,
Most wilful, unsupported by your troops,
To meet this danger?

Mustapha.
Achmet—I can die:
But dare not disobey a father's orders.

Achmet.
The Vizir moves this way.

Mustapha.
Then, O my soul!
Wake all thy powers, and arm me strong within;
That honesty and honor, bravely plain,
May strike confusion through his hollow smile,
And vizor'd malice.