 | Edward and Eleonora |  |
62
SCENE IV.
Edward, Gloster, Theald; To them Selim conducting Eleonora, Daraxa.Selim.
Raise thy Eyes, O King of England,
To the bright Witness of my blameless Honour.
Edward.
No; Beauty shall no more engage my Eyes,
It shall no more profane the Shrine devoted
To the sweet Image of my Eleonora!—
Let her declare her Knowledge in this Matter.
Eleonora.
Will not my Edward bless me with a Look?
Edward.
What Angel borrows Eleonora's Voice!—
O thou pale Shade of Her I weep for ever!
Permit me thus to worship thee—Thou art!—
Amazing Heaven!—Thou art my Eleonora!
My Eleonora's Self! my dear, my felt,
My living Eleonora!—What—to whom
Owe I this Miracle? this better Life?—
Oppressive Joy!—owe I my Eleonora?
Eleonora.
To him, that generous Prince, who put his Life
His Honour on the desperate Risque to save me,
When number'd with the Dead; who brought, himself,
A swift and powerful Remedy, by which
I am to Light restor'd—to thee, my Edward!
Edward.
To him! to him!—O monstrous!—whom I, thus,
Have with such Inhumanity insulted!
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They they are wise, who, when they feel thy Madness,
Seal up their Lips. And canst thou then forgive me,
Thou who hast o'er me gain'd that noblest Triumph,
The Triumph of Humanity?—Thou canst.
'Tis easier for the Generous to forgive
Than for Offence to ask it.
Selim.
Use not, Prince,
So harsh a Word. More than forgive, I love
Thy noble Heat, thy beautiful Disorder.
O! I am too much Man, I feel, myself,
Too much the charming Force of human Passions,
E'er to pretend, with supercilious Brow,
With proud affected Virtue, to disdain them.
Edward.
How, generous Sultan, how shall I requite Thee?
Here—Take thy lov'd Daraxa, whom I meant
To have restor'd, when this Misfortune happen'd;
But secret-working Heaven ordain'd her Stay,
To save us all.
Selim.
Wert thou the Lord of Earth,
Thou could'st not give me more!—my dear Daraxa!
Edward,
Hence, to the Camp, my Gloster—Bid the Soldiers
Forsake the Trenches—Let unbounded Joy
Reign, fearless, o'er the mingled Camp and City—
Go, tell my faithful Soldiers, that their Queen
My Eleonora lives! A Prize beyond
The Chance of War to give! She lives to soften
My too imperious Temper, and to make them,
To make my People happy!—O my Soul!
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Pride of thy Sex! inimitable Goodness!
Whenever Woman henceforth shall be prais'd
For conjugal Affection, Men will say
There shine the Virtues of an Eleonora!
Transporting Bliss!—How bountiful is Heaven!
Depressing often, but to raise us more.
Let never those despair who follow Virtue.
Love—Gratitude—divide me—Once more, Sultan,
Forgive me, pardon my mistaken Zeal,
That left my Country, cross'd the stormy Seas,
To war with thee, brave Prince, to war with Honour.
Now that my Passions give me leave to think:
The Hand of Heaven appears in what I suffer'd,
My erring Zeal has suffer'd by a Bigot.
Selim.
It does, O King. And venerable Christian,
I know thy Moderation will excuse me.
But since by ruling Wisdom (who unweigh'd,
Unmeant, does Nought) Men are so various made,
So various turn'd, that, in Opinions, they
Must blindly think, or take a different Way;
In spite of Force, since Judgment will be free;
Then let us in this righteous Mean agree:
Let holy Rage, let Persecution cease;
Let the Head argue, but the Heart be Peace;
Let all Mankind in Love of what is right,
In Virtue and Humanity unite.
| Edward and Eleonora | |