 | The Arab |  |
10
Act 2
The Palace. Augusta and Sameas.Sameas
No fierce Dæmoniac ever rag'd so madly—
Jerusalem shall see her King no more.
Auga-
Nor is it to be wish'd.
Sams-
Not to be wish'd?
Auga-
Have you forgot that Mariamne liv'd
Till you destroy'd her? Come no more of this.
Tis mere hypocrisy: I know your prayers
Are for his death.
Sams-
Can Sameas wish him dead,
In whom Augusta lives?
Auga-
Oh dull of heart!
Did you not hear him rave on Mariamne,
Whilst the Fit shook him? Me he spurn'd aside,
And shuddering wrapt his Mantle o're his face.
Too well I know the perilous prerogative
Of her that shares the diadem of Herod.
This in your Ear—Nor I, nor you can know
A peaceful dream, till Herod sleeps for ever!
Sams-
And yet but now you deem'd his death too sudden
Auga-
True, but my prospect then was dark and cloudy;
Now the sun smiles; the land in view looks joyful,
And happily we ride before the gale
Or'e swelling seas with full and favouring tide
Into the haven of prosperity.
Rome's Legate is my own, his venal voice
Speaks in my Coffers, and in Cæsar's name
Decrees Judæa's throne to my Abidah:
Nay to crown all the Princely Youth's arriv'd!
Sams-
This, this is fortune's Crisis; Such a meeting
Must be a feast of rapture to your Soul.
Suffer your Servant to enquire if Nature
Hath done her part with kindness; Is he comely,
Gallant and graceful? doth he wear a look
High and beseeming of his royal Birth;
Or hath Bethanor's rustic training marr'd
The vigour and ambition he is heir to?
11
As yet I have not seen him: This I learn
Of his Conductors by the way, his Air
Is bold and dauntless, and his manners wild
As the Arabian Hordes, with whom he liv'd—
But see! the faithful good old Man approaches.
(Bethanor enters)
Welcome, Bethanor! Hold: No Knee to me.
Give me your Hand—Ah! my good friend, is't so?
Twenty long years, gone round since last we parted,
Have left methinks some tracks of Winter here.
Sameas, withdraw!
(exit Sameas)
And am I yet to tell you
What place you keep in this recording Heart?
How inmost you are here? No, my good friend,
The trust, that in your bosom I have lodg'd,
The dearest Secret of my Life to you
Alone confided, witness my regard.
Bethr-
And I have kept your trust religiously.
Auga-
I will not doubt it.
Bethr-
I have hope you do not.
Auga-
No, on my Life! I know you to be faithful:
Let that suffice. Is the Young man here with you?
Bethr-
He waits your pleasure.
Auga-
That is well. The Prince
We now must call him, and my Son—Dost pause?
Bethr-
No; be it so, if such thy pleasure, yet—
Auga-
What yet? I'll be obey'd: Let no suspicion
Shake your full confidence of that. Again?—
What means that movement? Speak! reveal thy thoughts,
Art not content? If my preventive Bounty
Hath left thee nothing for thyself to wish,
Adopt another's wants, invent desires;
Be satisfaction henceforth turn'd to Surfeit;
And let imagination weary out
Thy tongue with asking e're my hand with giving.
Bethr-
Below ambition, yet above caprice
Thy Servant seeks not to obtrude a wish.
Auga-
Why then thou art content: But art thou also
Mindful of former days and that sad state
Of mournfull want, in which my bounty found thee?
Is it still present to thy mind how low
12
In life's profound decline? Twas then thou took'st
The newborn infant from his Mothers breast,
And in the secret and still hour of night,
Unseen of all, thy healthy rustic chang'd
For my lost hope, Expiring at my side:
Since then thy Son, this Youth, who now attends,
Is my Abidah; mine—and shall inherit
The Crown, now dropping from the brow of Herod.
Bethr-
Now, gracious Mistress, hear your Servant speak.
Unfit for Empire is my humble boy.
I do beseech your greatness to consider
How raw, untutor'd in the race of Glory
His youthful hours, till now some two moons past,
Have calmly crept in solitary haunts
By Amram's lazy stream,—what shoud he know
Of this great world more than a Shepherd's boy?
And how shoud I a poor unletter'd Rustic,
Train up a Son for Empire and Augusta?
Auga-
No more of this. Altho' your Son, Bethanor,
Without one kingly atom were compounded,
Yet shoud he mount the throne. What, have I toil'd,
Glutted the avarice of Rome with gold,
And dy'd my Conscience red with human blood,
To make the race of Mariamne Kings?
Set him before me.
Bethr-
I obey: But look
To see the meerest Child of Nature, one
As void of courtly manners, as of craft
For never yet in Cities hath he dwelt,
But with the wand'ring Ishmaelite in Camps.
Out of the track and danger of pursuit.
Auga-
I like his training well—And see! he comes.
(Abidan with Arab Attendants)
Welcome, my Son! thrice welcome to my Sight!
Ten thousand benedictions on the moment,
That gives thee to my wish!—Stand off a while,
And let me veiw thee—Oh! tis well, tis well.
Nature has built a goodly pallace here,
And a brave Spirit tenants it—My Son,
Come to my Arms! At length thou hast a Mother.
And, tho' hard fate forbade that I shoud pay thee
The Service of a Mother, I have hope
That thou can'st love me.
Abidah-
Yes, I love most things,
That suffer pain or misery. Did not Herod
13
And does the Tyrant live?
Auga-
He lives, Abidah.
Abidh-
Now by the Soul of Honour, which is in me,
Were I Augusta, I'd not suffer it.
Bethr-
Silence, rash Youth; you speak you know not what.
Abidh-
I speak by Nature's teaching, and you've told me
Such are not apt to err: Your modes I know not;
But we, the world's free denizans, who range
With flocks and herds in common, where fresh pasture
And welcome springs invite, must keep men honest
By rendr'ing wrong for wrong, and death for death:
Our Law and our Religion is Revenge.
Auga-
His Arab principles delight me well.
And now prepare to know thyself, Abidah,
For what thou art, and not what thou hast been.
No longer now beside the reedy bank
Of Amram's stream thou tend'st Bethanor's flock;
It is not now the Wolf or flying Deer,
But bright Ambition which thou hold'st in chace.
Put Life into thy looks and meet the time
With bridal Smiles, that weds thee to a throne.
Abidh-
What throne? O Shame! a tributary throne.
Abject Ambition! Nobler lot with these
(pointing to his Arabs)
To Sweep the desart with unshackled feet
Than here to Sit in delegated Purple,
And meanly catch a faint reflected lustre
From Cæsar's glittering Orb.
Bethr-
Restrain thyself:
Know'st thou to whom thou speakest?
Abidh-
Tell the Queen
How I chastis'd the Wretch, that woud have forc'd
The Syrian damsel.
Auga-
What dost thou allude to?
Tell it thyself.
Abidh-
I'm ill at such relations.
Auga-
I'll hear it from none other.
Abidh-
So it chanc'd
Myself and old Bethanor hous'd last night
With a grave Elder of the tribe of Levi.
14
When all but villainy was laid to rest,
A female scream from an adjoining Chamber
Rous'd me from sleep; sudden as thought I leapt
From my rude lair, and, snatching up my Sword,
Ran where the sound directed; There I found
A Damsel struggling in the lustful Arms
Of this old Caitiff: quick I sprung upon him,
And drove my rapier to his panting heart.
But lest the maid, whose beauty had provok'd
This heat in frozen age, might haply touch
My youthful veins with the like guilty flame,
I pray thee to receive her to thy care,
And send her hence in Safety from my Sight.
Auga-
Where is the Damsel?
Abidh-
She attends your pleasure.
Auga-
Bethanor, bring her to me.
(exit Bethanor
T'was well done
To rescue innocence; but still beware
Of Love, my Son: Tis not a Hero's passion.
Abidh-
I know not what Love is: I never felt it.
But this I know, no woman half so lovely,
E're met my eyes before—Look where she comes!
(Bethanor enters with Glaphyra)
Auga-
Why tis a form compounded of all beauty,
Simplicity with Elegance combin'd
And Virgin dignity; Come hither Syrian;
What is thy name, condition and degree?
Glapa-
Of no ignoble house; my name Glaphyra,
An Orphan Maid.
Auga-
What brings thee to Judæa?
Glapa-
My Brother in the Syrian Legion serves
Against the plundering Arabs that infest
Judæa's fertile borders—for the rest
Spare me the dreadful tale; let it suffice
To Providence and This, it's guardian instrument,
My brave deliverer, words cannot serve
To speak my gratitude, nor life to pay it.
Auga-
What more have you to ask? consult your wishes.
Glapa-
Immediate and safe conduct from Jerusalem.
Auga-
Whither?
15
To Smyrna.
Auga-
Wherefore; on what call;
And why with haste so pressing?
Abidh-
Urge her not;
I share with her the pain your questions give:
Let her depart; her Honour asks it of you,
And my repose demands it.
Auga-
It is granted.
You of my Train meanwhile attend the Damsel
Some needful rest her wearied frame requires,
Whilst we direct the means of her departure.
(Sameas enters)
Now, Sameas, what's thy news? How fares the King?
Sams-
Wild as the raging seas: his visage chang'd
To death-like symptoms. He commands thy presence.
Auga-
I shall obey: proceed. My Son; farewell!
I leave thee with regret—Bernice, Rhoda,
Look to your charge. Guards, you behold your Prince.
(Exit with Sameas)
Bethr-
Come, noble Youth, let us retire a while.
Abidh-
Why does she stay? perverse, to rack my Spirit
And tempt it past its bearing.
Bethr-
Be a Man!
Break off, nor let this weakness steal upon you.
Abidh-
Did I not well?
Bethr-
Thou didst; and therefore faint not
In thy well-doing.
Abidh-
Whilst she stays, I'm rooted
She anchors in my heart. Send her away.
Glapa-
A word and then farewell—May Heav'n preserve thee,
As thou hast me, brave Youth, from Nightly treason,
Or Violence, that dares the face of day!
I see that in thy Solitary haunts
Thou hast convers'd with Virtue; Oh, persist!
Keep her forever near; loose not her hand;
Lead her to Courts, to Councils, on the throne
Make her thy Consort, and, when Night comes on,
Place that one faithful centinel beside thee,
16
Abidh-
Stay, lovely Monitor!
Talk on till yonder gawdy Sun goes down,
Then cease not, but, when all is husht to silence
But the Soft music of thy voice, proceed
And charm the listening Stars.
Bethr-
Undone and lost!
Now who shall stem the torrent of his Passion?
Abidh-
Now thou art silent; now thy looks are fearful,
And I offend. Oh, teach me how to please thee!
I know my form is like my manners wild,
Rude and unpleasing; but so thou wilt teach me,
Thy rustic pupil shall not prove unapt.
What have I seen amongst thy sex, but thee?
External shapes of things, that walk and move
With nature's due proportions, but unpolisht
And barbarous as myself. They catch the Eye,
Thou Ear, Eye, Heart. They are but earthy beings,
Thou art all soul, a purifying Spirit,
And mak'st me a new Creature.
Glapha-
Pray no more:
Here we must part.
Abidh-
Yet er'e we part, declare
Is there another purer Name than Love,
That, when I put up prayers for thee in absence,
I may adopt it.
Glapha-
Friendship.
Abidh-
Ah! what's friendship?
To my own sex tis proper and apportion'd;
I've pledg'd it to Bethanor; the wild tribes,
Hundreds of wand'ring Arabs have my friendship;
The very brutes in some degree possess it.
But thou, fair Maid, for whom my Heart conceives
A new sensation, thou shoud'st so describe it,
That other Object may not claim or share it.
Glapha-
Banish these fruitless fancies from thy mind,
They will corrode its peace: hopeless affection,
What is it but the Canker of the Heart?
Leave me to my obscurity—Farewell!
Abidh-
Stay! must I lose thee! tis not to be suffer'd.
Bethr-
Not to be suffer'd! what do you intend?
Recall the base Expression!
Abidh-
Base do you call it?
17
Bethr.-
I avow the term:
Commit what crime you dare; I'm not afraid
To give it it's true name: When you detain
This Maid against her will, I call your Act
Selfish, unmanly, base. Was you so treated?
Did er'e Abidah feel restraint? The winds
Rang'd not more freely; t'was your Nature's right,
And you enjoy'd it: The same right was her's;
Till your Command revokes it. O bright omen
Of an auspicious reign! Damsel, withdraw!
I woud fain see who stays you—So! tis past.
(Exit Glaphyra.
Abidh-
Draw forth thy Sword and strike it to my Heart!
Bethr.-
No, to my own. Death cannot be so dreadful
As thy decline from Virtue.
Abidh-
Nay, but strike!
For if I'm that base thing Bethanor thinks me,
Why doth Abidah live?
Bethr-
I've been too warm;
And baseness; which thy noble Heart abhors,
Was a rash word—But yet beware, my prince,
Some Vices in their infancy usurp
A Virtuous semblance; hell-born Lust awhile
It's goatish ugliness can varnish or'e
With cherub smiles of Love; by soft approach
And playful dalliance spreads it's lurking fires,
Then, like the furious Levite whom you slew,
Bursts into flame and deals destruction round.
Abidh-
No, if her form, tho fair, coud so defile
The Sanctuary of my Honour, by my Soul!
This daggar which I wear shoud rip it out;
Tho' it entwin'd my heart.
Bethr-
Child of my Soul!
I know thou woudst—And yet when I behold
The crimson tumult rushing to thy cheeks,
When thy fond Eyes drank streams of fond desire
From the fair Syrian, will Abidah blame me,
That I cried out, beware? will he not pardon
A zeal too forward, a fond father's zeal
For a beloved Son? indulge my weakness,
I cannot easily forego the name.
Abidh-
Nor shalt thou—Thus with my embrace I seal it.
Now as I feel the pressure of thine Arms
18
With Sympathetic tremor strikes my Heart,
And tells me tis a father I enfold.
Bethr-
Oh! truly spoke. O Nature, what thou art! (aside)
Abidh-
Dearest and best of friends, I look about
This new found World with horror: Beauty here
With tempting Smiles allures me to dishonour;
There gaunt Ambition's Spectre haunts my Sight,
Rapine and Lust and Murder howl around me,
Those fiends that lurk beneath a throne. Farewell
To those calm-hours, when each returning day
On Amram's banks we call'd the golden Sun
Up to the East, and met the dewy breath
Of Morning issuing from the flowery Vale:
These are for ever gone.
Bethr-
And what can Empire
Give in Exchange for these so peaceful scenes?
Abidh-
Power, that dispenses blessings to Mankind,
And Empire founded in my People's Hearts.
Bethr-
Then hear me, Heaven! and if my breath hath fann'd
The native spark of this etherial fire,
That burns within him, grant my parting prayer!
Nourish the sacred flame, and as thy hand
Hath rais'd it high, Oh, keep it ever Bright!
That, like a beacon on the Mountain's top,
His high-enthroned Virtue may be seen
Clear and unsullied by a guilty World.
Abidh-
Oh! still be near me; still direct my Course,
And, what you've rais'd, support!
Bethr-
I'll not forsake thee;
And shoud the false lights of this treacherous world
Divert (which Heav'n forbid!) thy youthful course
From the warm chase of glory, in that moment
I will come forth, recall thy devious Steps
Back to the saving point, from which they stray'd,
And put thee in the glorious track again.
(End of the 2d. Act.)
| The Arab | |