University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

ALMORAN, CALED.
CALED.
Yonder, my lord, he steals.

ALMORAN.
But where the lady?

CALED.
Dread sire, I see her not.

ALMORAN.
Didst thou not leave him with her?

CALED.
Hypocrisy assist thy long tried favourite.
[aside.
I left him lost in one soft dream of passion,
Invoking every power fantastical
To register his vows—then would he kneel,
Her lovely hand embathe with sigh-sick tears,
And earnest press it to his glowing bosom;
While she—

ALMORAN.
Go on.

CALED.
Repuls'd his freedom
With a sweet resistance—and in soft coyness
Sported with refusal.

ALMORAN.
Spoke they of me,
Or ought suspects my brother I have seen her?

CALED
(looking.)
Methought, my lord, I saw in yon pavillion
A female robe that—yes, by heav'n 'tis she.
[going up.
Oh powers of heaven! behold, my lord, behold,
See where she walks—what majesty of mein?
[looking out.
What native beauties in her artless air?
Soft as the first fair breeze that fans the spring.
What glories beam even from her downcast eye!
While her disorder wales a new-born charm
As the bloom ripens on her rosy lips!

ALMORAN.
At every glance more lovely than before;
Ne'er did each feature flame so full to view,
Caled, by heav'n her eye shot suns, out-blaz'd
That symbol of the God to which we bow.

CALED.
Well may the happy Hamet wish to screen
The fair recluse from each obtrusive eye,
And hide her from an elder brother's gaze.
Ah! heav'n preserve the sultan of the world,
My sovereign labours with some secret sorrow;
Oh, that the slave could aught administer
To his imperial master!

ALMORAN.
Ha! imperial
Said'st thou Caled? that I were imperial;
[aside.
My pulses fever at the glorious thought.
Caled.

CALED.
My lord.

ALMORAN.
I will no more disguise—Caled—hither—
Yet nearer—lov'st thou thy sovereign master?
I know thou dost, I read it in thine eye,
I'll trust thee—thou shalt share a secret, Caled,
Denied to every vassal but thyself.

CALED.
Great ruler of the East whose boundless sway— [prostrates.


ALMORAN.
Rise and approach. Still closer and attend—
Thrice has the year renew'd the robes of spring,
Since from the circling crouds that guard the palace,
An undistinguish'd multitude of slaves,
Thee I mark'd out for favour, bade thee meet
The eye of Almoran without prostration,
And rank'd thee next to Osmyn.

CALED.
Next to Osmyn.

[aside.
ALMORAN.
In thy settled look
Firm and unaw'd, I saw the aspiring soul
That suited well the servant of a prince,
Soon to be more—At length my father died,
The throne I mounted—a divided throne.

CALED
(kneeling.)
Essence of light and life, assist my prayer;
Angel of death, quick moulder in the dust
The officious Omar's bold and busy hand,
Which brought the will of Solyman to light,
And thus curtail'd the rights of Almoran.

ALMORAN.
Since that most wretched, most disgraceful moment,
Mark its return my soul—Since that curst hour
No joy, no transport hath this bosom known;
Nor shall these watchful, waking eyes e'er close,
E'er taste again the balmy bliss of sleep,
Till—

CALED.
Every bar to empire, love, and glory,
And each dire obstacle be swept away.

ALMORAN.
Thy sovereign's soul is on thy lip—but how?
How compass these great ends?

CALED.
Great ends require
Means well proportion'd, and such means
Are ever ready to the mind resolv'd.
Honest Ambition, in expedients fruitful,
Still crouds a thousand images at once
Upon the forming brain—the dart—the bowl,
The smiling banquet, and the midnight sabre.

ALMORAN.
My boundless hopes are rushing to a point.
Declare thy purpose—Caled speak direct.

CALED.
Direct then thus—My sover'ign wou'd be king,
Supreme, sole, undivided, fill the throne
Without a weak associate—be the fate
Of subject earth—The thought is great—and great
Must be the enterprize—nought less than—

ALMORAN.
What!

CALED.
Death.

ALMORAN.
Said'st thou?

CALED.
Murder.

ALMORAN.
Whose?

CALED.
What need of names? but still to be direct,
The man that thwarts thee in the road to glory,
That stops thee midway in the bright career,
And intercepts thy radiance—

ALMORAN.
Ha! my brother!
Murder! my very heart turns from it. No,
One mother gave us being. We were twins.
The bloomy days of youth were pass'd together;
He ever lov'd me, made this breast his pillow,
And wept upon it all his little sorrows;
Long, long ere love or mad ambition
The rosy bonds of Nature broke and made
Us rivals—And shall I murder Hamet?

CALED.
Empire and love shall consecrate the deed,
But I have err'd, and will offend no more,
Hamet loves rule, and therefore shares the throne,
If Omar aids, perhaps shall more than share it.
Perhaps the wily sage—

ALMORAN.
Audacious traitor!
Think'st thou the feeble dotard e'er will dare—

CALED.
The snake, my lord, that twists around the feet,
With bold aspiring crest at length may tow'r
Ev'n to the seat of life.

ALMORAN.
First will I seize
With arm indignant its impoison'd throat,
Dash the fell viper instant to the earth,
And see it writhe its life out in the dust.

CALED.
The happy younger king too, runs before
Ev'n in the race of love: auspicious still
The fair Circassian melts before he sighs;
Soon shall the Persian throne confess a queen;
Again the mangled crown shall know division,
And a fair third of empire yield to her,
To Hamet's beauteous wife, divine Almeida.

ALMORAN.
Hold, Caled, hold—shall Almoran then stoop
To see his rich inheritance thus torn,
Thus ravish'd, plunder'd by each bold usurper,
And made the prey of vassals, boys, and women!
Caled, dispatch—concert the great design—
Quick let's be gone—I sicken at delay;
Love, empire, and ambition, drive me on;
Methinks already I redeem the sceptre,
And o'er th'obedient world triumphant wave it.
The awful name of Almoran alone
Floats on the faithful gale—from shore to shore
The undiminish'd homage spreads around,
And my defrauded world's at length restor'd.

CALED.
Oh, glorious emulation—By yon heaven
I light ambition at my master's blaze!
The soul of Caled catches fire from his;
I rise, I tow'r to do some noble deed
That the imperial Almoran shall fix,
Secure, uncrouded on his rightful throne.

ALMORAN.
Then take a rich reward—thy king's embrace.
But oh, this languid pause! I pine, I die,
'Till from that boy's encircled brow I seize
My sullied diadem, and place it here.
Oh, how my soul exults in the idea;
Then shall I revel in Almeida's beauties;
Then each high bliss by turns shall know and prove
The fate and fortune of our Eastern world.

[Exeunt.