 | The Happy Captive |  |
SCENE VI.
SCENE, Abdalla's Garden.(Musick with Trumpets and Tambours heard within.)
Zorayda, Selima.
Sel.
These sprightly Sounds proclaim
Their Revels at the Height. The licens'd Bowl,
At this their solemn Festival,
Goes round, ev'n till the crimson Juice
Glows thro' their swarthy Cheeks.—
Wherefore so pensive?
Greet not your Fortunes with a Brow of Care.
Zoray.
Have I not Cause with inward Thought
To ruminate th'approaching Change?
I dread th'Event, which most I seek.—
How will Abdalla,
In bitt'rest Agonies of Soul,
With Imprecations load my Name!
Call me a base, perfidious Robber!
And wooe th'avenging Pow'rs with Pray'r
To dart Revenge on my devoted Head!
Sel.
Tear not your Breast with fruitless Fears,
You but resume your own.
Did he not with rapacious Hands
Seize on your Mother's Wealth, and yours?
Did he not once with brutal Force
Attempt,—But the protecting Heav'ns
Rescued you from that Shame.
Zoray.
Yet has he since with tend'rest Love
Cherish'd my Youth.
Sel.
Yet would he now, with all that Love,
Commit a Force upon your Heart.—
Flight is the only Safety left:
Unless you've taught your abject Soul
To stoop to curst Morat's Embrace.
Zoray.
There you awake
A sleeping Terror in my Breast:
Come, Carlos, come with Arms of Love;
And snatch me from that dreaded Danger.
24
Like a frail Bark, too weak to brave
The driving Wind, and surging Wave,
I float in dread Suspence.
The driving Wind, and surging Wave,
I float in dread Suspence.
Fearing at ev'ry Blast to run
Against those Rocks I cannot shun,
And hopeless of Defence.
Against those Rocks I cannot shun,
And hopeless of Defence.
Like a frail Bark, &c.
Sel.
See, with important Haste, and chearful Air,
Your Page advances tow'rds us.
| The Happy Captive | |