University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Zanger, Achmet.
Achmet.
The hour grows more tempestuous.

Zanger.
Not a star
Remains unquench'd; but total blackness fills
The vault of night.

Achmet.
Look, from the turbid south
What floods of flame in red diffusion burst,
Frequent and furious, darted thro' the dark
And broken ridges of a thousand clouds,
Pil'd hill on hill: and hark, the thunder rous'd
Groans in long roarings thro' the distant gloom.

Zanger.
'Tis well: and we, O heaven! revere thy voice,
Thy voice of terror, meant to shake the hearts
Of guilty men. What withers their resolves,
Lends force to ours. Achmet, if honor lives
Within thy breast; if this tremendous call
Can wake thee to a deed of noble daring,
Now save thy master.

Achmet.
Prince, command my service.
Be life or death the sequel, I have learnt,
When honor calls, undoubting to obey.
This worthy part is ours: th' event we leave
To heaven's all-ruling care.

Zanger.
I need not say,
In saving Mustapha, we save the friend
Of virtue, of mankind. But how? alas!
For I have sounded all a mother's heart,
Each source of tenderness profess'd for me,
In favor of this brother—and in vain!
The Sultan too, inexorable, deaf
Even to Emira's voice! has seal'd his doom.
Amid the silence of the midnight hour,
A shameful death awaits him!

Achmet.
Judge supreme!
Is such the lot for innocence decreed?
What can we do?

Zanger.
Brave Achmet, true, the camp
Lies plung'd in slumber: but the troops adore
This injur'd virtue. Rouse the nearest bands:
Then, on a signal given, rush we at once
Into the guilty room; and bear him thence
Among th' expecting soldiers.

Achmet.
By the storm
That thunders round us with redoubling peals!
The brave design has fir'd me: I will save,
Or perish greatly with him. Knows the Prince
Of our intention?

Zanger.
No; nor were it safe
To trust his scrupulous virtue with the secret.
Above all fear of death, he would not risque
A life this way, to make his own immortal.
Then give we honor strict as his no cause
To disavow our action; let no blood,
Even of his executioners, be spilt.

Achmet.
We will not stain an enterprize of justice
With deeds of cruelty. That care be mine.
What shall the signal be?

Zanger.
A blazing torch
Wav'd thrice amid the trees that shade this tent.
My watch is there.

Achmet.
Enough.

Zanger.
Farewel.

Achmet.
Yet say,
Where do we meet?

Zanger.
Behind the blasted pine
That bounds the last pavilion.

Achmet.
Prince, remember.
My service shall not linger: if I fall,
'Tis as a soldier should.

Zanger.
Away—the Vizir
Is coming towards us.