 | Barbarossa |  |
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ACT V.
Enter Barbarossa and Aladin.Barbarossa.
Is the Watch doubled? Are the Gates secur'd
Against Surprize?
Aladin.
They are, and mock th'Attempt
Of Force or Treachery.
Barbarossa.
This whisper'd Rumour
Of dark Conspiracy, on further Inquest,
Seems but a false Alarm. Our Spies, sent out,
And now return'd from Search, affirm that Sleep
Has wrap'd the City.
Aladin.
But while Selim lives,
Destruction lurks within the Palace Walls;
Nor Bars, nor Centinels can give us Safety.
Barbarossa.
Right, Aladin. His Hour of Fate approaches.—
How goes the Night?
Aladin.
The second Watch is near.
Barbarossa.
'Tis well:—Whene'er it rings the Traitor dies.
So hath my Will ordain'd.—I'll seize th'Occasion,
While I may fairly plead my Life's Defence.
Aladin.
True: For he aim'd his Dagger at thy Heart.
Barbarossa.
He did. Hence Justice, uncompell'd, shall seem
To lend her Sword, and do Ambition's Work.
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His bold Resolves have steel'd Zaphira's Breast
Against thy Love: Thence he deserves to die.
Barbarossa.
And Death's his Doom.—Yet, first the Rack shall rend
Each Secret from his Heart; unless he give
Zaphira to my Arms, by Marriage-Vows,
With full Consent; ere yet the second Watch
Toll for his Death.—Curse on this Woman's Weakness!
I yet wou'd win her Love! Haste, seek out Othman:
Go, tell him, that Destruction and the Sword
Hang o'er young Selim's Head, if swift Compliance
Plead not his Pardon.
[Exit. Aladin.
Stubborn Fortitude!
Had he not interpos'd, Success had crown'd
My Love, now hopeless.—Then let Vengeance seize him.
Enter Irene.
Irene.
O Night of Horror!—Hear me, honor'd Father!
If e'er Irene's Peace was dear to thee,
Now hear me!
Barbarossa.
Impious! Dar'st thou disobey?
Did not my sacred Will ordain thee hence?
Get thee to Rest; for Death is stirring here.
Irene.
O fatal Words! By ev'ry sacred Tye,
Recall the dire Decree!—
Barbarossa.
What would'st thou say?
Whom plead for?
Irene.
For a brave unhappy Prince,
Sentenc'd to die.
Barbarossa.
And justly!—But this Hour,
The Traitor half fulfill'd thy Dream, and aim'd
His Dagger at my Heart.
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Might Pity plead!
Barbarossa.
What!—plead for Treachery?
Irene.
Yet Pity might bestow a milder Name.
Woud'st thou not love the Child, whose Fortitude
Shou'd hazard Life for thee?—Oh, think on that:—
The noble Mind hates not a virtuous Foe:
His gen'rous Purpose was to save a Mother!
Barbarossa.
Damn'd was his Purpose: And accurst art Thou,
Whose Perfidy wou'd save the dark Assassin,
Who sought thy Father's Life!—Hence, from my Sight.
Irene.
Oh, never, till thy Mercy spare my Selim!
Barbarossa.
Thy Selim?—Thine?
Irene.
Thou know'st—by Gratitude
He's mine.—Had not his generous Hand redeem'd me,
What then had been Irene?
Barbarossa.
Faithless Wretch!
Unhappy Father! whose perfidious Child
Leagues with his deadliest Foe; and guides the Dagger
Ev'n to his Heart!—Perdition catch thy Falshood!
And is it thus, a thankless Child repays me,
For all the Guilt in which I plung'd my Soul,
To raise her to a Throne!
Irene.
O spare these Words,
More keen than Daggers to my bleeding Heart!
Let me not live suspected!—Dearest Father!—
Behold my Breast! write thy Suspicions here:
Write them in Blood; But spare the gen'rous Youth,
Who sav'd me from Dishonour!
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By the Pow'rs
Of great Revenge: thy fond Intreaties seal
His instant Death.—In him, I'll punish thee.—
Away!
Irene.
Yet hear me! Ere my tortur'd Soul
Rush on some Deed of Horror!
Barbarossa.
Seize her, Guards.—
Convey the frantic Ideot from my Presence:
See that she do no Violence on herself.
Irene.
O Selim!—generous Youth!—how have my Fears
Betray'd thee to Destruction!—Slaves, unhand me!—
Think ye, I'll live to bear these Pangs of Grief,
These Horrors that oppress my tortur'd Soul?—
Inhuman Father!—Generous, injur'd Youth!—
Methinks I see thee stretch'd upon the Rack,
Hear thy expiring Groans!—O Horror! Horror!
What shall I do to save him!—Vain, alas!
Vain are my Tears and Pray'rs!—At least, I'll die.
Death shall unite us yet!
[Exit Irene and Guards.
Barbarossa.
O Torment, Torment!
Ev'n in the midst of Pow'r!—the vilest Slave
More happy far than I!—The very Child,
Whom my Love cherish'd from her infant Years,
Conspires to blast my Peace!—O false Ambition,
Thou lying Phantom! whither hast thou lur'd me!
Ev'n to this giddy Height; where now I stand,
Forsaken, comfortless! with not a Friend
In whom my Soul can trust!
Enter Aladin.
Hast thou seen Othman?
He will not, sure, conspire against my Peace.
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He's fled my Lord. I dread some lurking Ruin.
The Centinel on Watch says, that he pass'd
The Gate, since Midnight, with an unknown Friend:
And as they pass'd, Othman in Whispers said,
“Now farewel, bloody Tyrant.”
Barbarossa.
Slave, thou ly'st.
He did not dare to say it. Or, if he did,
Pernicious Slave, why dost thou wound my Ear
By the foul Repitition?—Gracious Pow'rs,
Let me be calm!—O my distracted Soul!—
How am I rent in Pieces!—Othman fled!—
Why then may all Hell's Curses follow him!—
What's to be done? Some Mischief lurks unseen.
Aladin.
Prevent it then—
Barbarossa.
By Selim's instant Death—
Aladin.
Ay, doubtless.
Barbarossa.
Is the Rack prepar'd?
Aladin.
'Tis ready.
Along the Ground he lies, o'erwhelm'd with Chains.
The Ministers of Death stand round; and wait
Thy last Command.
Barbarossa.
Once more I'll try to bend
His stubborn Soul.—Conduct me forthwith to him:
And if he now disdain my profer'd Kindness,
Destruction swallows him!
[Exeunt.
Selim discover'd in Chains, Executioners, Officer, &c. and Rack.
Selim.
I pray you, Friends,
When I am dead, let not Indignity
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Close by my Father's Tomb! I ask no more.
Officer.
They shall.
Selim.
How goes the Night?
Officer.
Thy Hour of Fate,
The second Watch is near.
Selim.
Let it come on;
I am prepar'd.
Enter Barbarossa.
Barbarossa.
So—raise him from the Ground.—
[They raise him.
Perfidious Boy! Behold the just Rewards
Of Guilt and Treachery!—Didst thou not give
Thy forfeit Life, whene'er I should behold
Selim's detested Face?
Selim.
Then take it, Tyrant.
Barbarossa.
Didst thou not aim thy Dagger at my Heart?
Selim.
I did.
Barbarossa.
Yet Heav'n defeated thy Intent;
And sav'd me from the Dagger.
Selim.
'Tis not ours,
To question Heav'n. Th'Intent and not the Deed
Is in our Pow'r: and therefore who dares greatly,
Does greatly.
Barbarossa.
Yet bethink thee, stubborn Boy,
What Horrors now surround thee—
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Think'st thou, Tyrant,
I came so ill prepar'd?—Thy Rage is weak,
Thy Torments pow'rless o'er the steady Mind:
He who cou'd bravely dare, can bravely suffer.
Barbarossa.
Yet, lo, I come, by Pity led, to spare thee.
Relent, and save Zaphira!—For the Bell
Ev'n now expects the Centinel, to toll
The Signal of thy Death.
Selim.
Let Guilt like thine
Tremble at Death: I scorn his darkest Frown.
Hence, Tyrant, nor prophane my dying Hour!
Barbarossa.
Then take thy Wish.
[Bell tolls.
There goes the fatal Knell.
Thy Fate is seal'd.—Not all thy Mother's Tears,
Nor Pray'rs, nor Eloquence of Grief, shall save thee,
From instant Death. Yet ere th'Assassin die,
Let Torment wring each Secret from his Heart.
The Traitor Othman's fled;—Conspiracy
Lurks in the Womb of Night, and threatens Ruin.
Spare not the Rack, nor cease, till it extort
The lurking Treason; and this Murd'rer call
On Death, to end his Woes.
[Exit Barbarossa.
Selim.
Come on then.
[They bind him.
Begin the Work of Death.—what! bound with Cords,
Like a vile Criminal!—O, valiant Friends,
When will ye give me Vengeance!
Enter Irene.
Irene.
Stop, O stop!
Hold your accursed Hands!—On me, on me,
Pour all your Torments!—How shall I approach thee!
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These are thy Father's Gifts!—Yet thou art guiltless:
Then let me take thee to my Heart, thou best
Most amiable of Women!
Irene.
Rather curse me,
As the Betrayer of thy Virtue!
Selim.
Ah!
Irene.
'Twas I—my Fears, my frantic Fears betray'd thee!
Thus falling at thy Feet! may I but hope
For Pardon ere I die!
Selim.
Hence, to thy Father!
Irene.
Never, O never!—Crawling in the Dust,
I'll clasp thy Feet, and bathe them with my Tears!
Tread me to Earth! I never will complain;
But my last Breath shall bless thee!
Selim.
Lov'd Irene!
What hath my Fury done?
Irene.
Indeed, 'twas hard!
But I was born to Sorrow!
Selim.
Melt me not.
I cannot bear thy Tears;—They quite unman me!
Forgive the Transports of my Rage!
Irene.
Alas!
The Guilt is mine:—Canst thou forgive those Fears
That first awak'd Suspicion in my Father!
Those Fears that have undone thee!—Heav'n is witness,
They meant not Ill to thee!
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None; none, Irene!
No; 'twas the generous Voice of filial Love:
That, only, prompted thee to save a Father.
Yes; from my inmost Soul I do approve
That Virtue which destroys me.
Irene.
Canst thou, then,
Forgive and pity me?
Selim.
I do,—I do.
Irene.
On my Knees,
Thus let me thank thee, generous, injur'd Prince!—
Oh Earth and Heav'n! That such unequal'd Worth
Shou'd meet so hard a Fate!—That I—That I—
Whom his Love rescu'd from the Depth of Woe,
Shou'd be th'accurst Destroyer!—Strike, in Pity;
And end this hated Life!
Selim.
Cease, dear Irene.
Submit to Heav'n's high Will.—I charge thee live;
And to thy utmost Pow'r, protect from Wrong
My helpless, friendless, Mother!
Irene.
With my Life
I'll shield her from each Wrong.—That Hope alone
Can tempt me to prolong a Life of Woe!
Selim.
O my ungovern'd Rage!—To frown on Thee!
Thus let me expiate the cruel Wrong,
[Embracing.
And mingle Rapture with the Pains of Death!
Officer.
No more.—Prepare the Rack.
Irene.
Stand off, ye Fiends!
Here will I cling. No Pow'r on Earth shall part us.
Till I have sav'd my Selim!
[A Noise
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Hark! what Noise
Strikes on mine Ear?
[A Noise.
Selim.
Again!
Aladin.
[Without.
Arm, arm!—Treach'ry and Murder!
[Executioners go to seize Selim.
Selim.
Off Slaves!—Or I will turn my Chains to Arms,
And dash you Piece-meal!—For I have heard a Sound,
Which lifts my tow'ring Soul to Atlas' Height,
That I cou'd prop the Skies.
Aladin.
Where is the King?
The Foe pours in: The Palace Gates are burst:
The Centinels are murder'd! Save the King!
They seek him thro' the Palace!
Officer.
Death and Ruin!
Follow me, Slaves, and save him.
[Ex. Officer and Executioner.
Selim.
Now, bloody Tyrant! Now, thy Hour is come!
Irene.
What means yon mad'ning Tumult?—O my Fears!—
Selim.
Vengeance at length hath pierc'd these guilty Walls,
And walks her deadly Round!
Irene.
Whom dost thou mean? my Father?
Selim.
Yes: Thy Father;
Who murder'd mine!
Irene.
Is there no room for Mercy?
O Selim! by our Love!—
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Thy Tears are vain!
Vain were thy Eloquence, tho' thou didst plead
With an Archangel's Tongue!
Irene.
Spare but his Life!
Selim.
Heav'n knows I pity thee. But he must bleed;
Tho' my own Life-Blood, nay, tho' thine, more dear,
Shou'd issue at the Wound!
Irene.
Must he then die?
Let me but see my Father, ere he perish!
Let me but pay my parting Duty to him!—
[Clash of Swords.
Hark!—'twas the Clash of Swords! Heav'n save my Father
O cruel, cruel Selim!
[Exit Irene.
Selim.
Curse on this servile Chain, that binds me fast,
In pow'rless Ignominy; while my Sword
Shou'd hunt its Prey, and cleave the Tyrant down!
Othman.
[Without.
Where is the Prince!
Selim.
Here, Othman, bound to Earth!—
Set me but free!—O cursed, cursed Chain!
Enter Othman and Party, who free Selim.
Othman.
O my brave Prince!—Heav'n favours our Design.
[Embraces him.
Take that:—I need not bid thee use it nobly.
[Giving him a Sword.
Selim.
Now, Barbarossa, let my Arm meet thine:
'Tis all I ask of Heav'n!
[Exit Selim.
Othman.
Guard ye the Prince—
[Part go out.
Pursue his Steps.—Now this Way let us turn,
And seek the Tyrant.
[Exeunt Othman, &c.
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Enter Barbarossa.
Barbarossa.
Empire is lost, and Life: Yet brave Revenge
Shall close my Life in Glory.
Enter Othman.
Have I found thee,
Dissembling Traitor?—Die!—
Othman.
Long hath my Wish,
Pent in my struggling Breast, been robb'd of Utterance.
Now Valour scorns the Mask.—I dare thee, Tyrant!
And arm'd with Justice, thus wou'd meet thy Rage,
Tho' thy red right Hand grasp'd the pointed Thunder!
Now, Heav'n decide between us!
[They fight.
Barbarossa.
Coward!
Othman.
Tyrant!
Barbarossa.
Traitor!
Othman.
Infernal Fiend, thy Words are fraught with Falsehood,
To combat Crimes like Thine, by Force or Wiles,
Is equal Glory.
[Barbarossa falls.
Barbarossa.
I faint! I die!—O Horror!
Enter Selim and Sadi.
Selim.
The Foe gives Way: Sure this Way went the Storm.
Where is the Tyger fled?—What do I see?
Sadi.
Algiers is free!
Othman.
This Sabre did the Deed!
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I envy thee the Blow!—Yet Valour scorns
To wound the fallen.—But if Life remain,
I will speak Daggers to his guilty Soul!—
Hoa! Barbarossa! Tyrant! Murderer!
'Tis Selim, Selim calls thee!
Barbarossa.
Off, ye Fiends!
Torment me not!—O, Selim, art thou there!—
Swallow me Earth! Bury me deep, ye Mountains!
Accursed be the Day that gave me Birth!
Oh, that I had never wrong'd thee!
Selim.
Dost thou then
Repent thee of thy Crimes!—He does! He does!
He grasps my Hand! See the repentant Tear
Starts from his Eye!—Dost thou indeed repent?—
Why then I do forgive thee: From my Soul
I freely do forgive thee!—And if Crimes,
Abhorr'd as thine, dare plead to Heav'n for Mercy,—
May Heav'n have Mercy on thee!
Barbarossa.
Gen'rous Selim!
Too good,—I have a Daughter! Oh, protect her!—
Let not my Crimes!—
[Dies.
Othman.
There fled the guilty Soul!
Selim.
Haste to the City,—stop the Rage of Slaughter.
Tell my brave People, that Algiers is free;
And Tyranny no more.
[Exeunt Slaves.
Sadi.
And, to confirm
The glorious Tydings, soon as Morning shines,
Be his dead Carcase dragg'd throughout the City,
A Spectacle of Horror!
Selim.
Curb thy Zeal.
Let us be Brave, not Cruel: Nor disgrace
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Black was his Guilt: and he hath paid his Life,
The Forfeit of his Crimes. Then sheath the Sword:
Let Vengeance die,—Justice is satisfy'd!
Enter Zaphira.
Zaphira.
What mean these Horrors!—wheresoe'er I turn
My trembling Steps, I find some dying Wretch,
Welt'ring in Gore!—And dost thou live, my Selim!
Selim.
Lo, there he lies!
Zaphira.
The bloody Tyrant slain!
O righteous Heav'n!
Selim.
Behold thy valiant Friends,
Whose Faith and Courage have o'erwhelm'd the Pow'r
Of Barbarossa. Here, once more, thy Virtues
Shall dignify the Throne and bless thy People.
Zaphira.
Just are thy Ways, O Heav'n!—Vain Terrors hence;
Once more Zaphira's blest!—My virtuous Son,
How shall I e'er requite thy boundless Love!
Thus let me snatch thee to my longing Arms,
And on thy Bosom weep my Griefs away!
Selim.
O happy Hour!—happy, beyond the Flight
Ev'n of my ardent Hope!—Look down, blest Shade,
From the bright Realms of Bliss!—Behold thy Queen
Unspotted, unseduc'd, unmov'd in Virtue.
Behold the Tyrant prostrate at my Feet!
And to the Mem'ry of thy bleeding Wrongs,
Accept this Sacrifice!
Zaphira.
My generous Selim!
Selim.
Where is Irene?
80
With Looks of Wildness, and distracted Mien,
She sought her Father where the Tumult rag'd:
She pass'd me, while the Coward Aladin
Fled from my Sword: and as I cleft him down,
She fainted at the Sight.
Othman.
But straight recover'd,
Zamor, our trusty Friend, at my Command,
Convey'd the weeping fair one to her Chamber.
Selim.
Thanks to thy generous Care:—Come, let us seek
Th'afflicted Maid.
Zaphira.
Her Virtues might attone
For her Father's Guilt!—Thy Throne be hers:
She merits all thy Love.
Selim.
Then haste, and find her.—o'er her Father's Crimes
Pity shall draw her Veil; nay, half absolve them,
When she beholds the Virtues of his Child!—
Now let us thank th'eternal Pow'r: convinc'd,
That Heav'n but tries our Virtue by Affliction:
That oft' the Cloud which wraps the present Hour,
Serves but to brighten all our future Days!
FINIS.
| Barbarossa | |