University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

AN APARTMENT IN HAMET'S PALACE.
OMAR.
A change so sudden—every tumult hush'd—
So wild an hurricane blown o'er already?
'Tis most suspicious, and I yet have doubts.
Perhaps some plan of deep drawn policy—
Perhaps—but hither speeds the younger king:
He comes with all the lover in his step,
And the fond bridegroom beaming from his eye:
(looking out)
O blessed state of unsuspecting youth,
Gay, worthy, ardent, generous, and warm,
'Tis barbarous to destroy thy gilded dreams
And wake thee to the cunning turns of life.

SCENE II.

HAMET, OMAR.
HAMET.
My reverend father, guardian ever dear,
My spirit could not rest till it had found thee.
I left thee late with gloom upon thy brow,
And all unevenly thy accents fell,
As if contention 'twixt thy heart and tongue
Wag'd war severe.

OMAR.
It was but fancy;
The eye of friendship magnifies each trifle.

HAMET.
If 'twas but fancy, wherefore droop'st thou now?
What may this mean, my friend?

OMAR.
Regard it not;
Age is uncertain, weak, and full of starts;
Precarious life then hangs but by an hair,
And a babe's breath will shake it—

HAMET.
Haply, still
Thou art with Almoran displeas'd—Forgive him!
The letter brought by Osmyn might excuse
His warmth. 'Twas to invite my Omar's pardon;
What could my brother more? We all are men:
Error confess'd, is, to a noble mind,
Error's atonement. Heav'n requires no more!

OMAR.
If I am sad, thou hast not guess'd the cause.
Power's vain parade, and Passion's rudest burst,
Fall unregarded on this aged bosom;
And all their force is blunted e'er they reach me.
The pangs which now I feel are all for thee.

HAMET.
For me—and art thou sad for me—for Hamet.
Have not the gods been more than lavish to him?
Will not the musick of th'harmonious choir
Soon echo Hamet's joys throughout the palace?
Are not the priests already in the mosque?
Are not the virgins with their wreathes prepar'd
To strew the roseate paths of love with flow'rs?
Nay, will not Almoran himself attend?
Come, let's be gone. Ali ere this expects us.

OMAR.
I have deceiv'd thee, Hamet—much deceiv'd thee.

HAMET.
Deceiv'd me!—Thou!—Has Omar much deceiv'd me?

OMAR.
Yes—thy brother—there it begins—thy brother—
Yet, say his life upon thy kindness rested,
Wou'd not thy virtuous heart do much to save it?

HAMET.
To save his life!—O much indeed, my Omar.
I'd rush undaunted thro' the perilous war,
Ev'n where the bleeding battle thickest rag'd,
And spread my body as a shield before him.
I'd rush into the wild and fearful waves,
When their chaf'd fury drench'd the sailing clouds,
I'd fight, I'd fall, I'd DIE to save his life.

OMAR.
There spoke at once the monarch and the man;
And oh! still dearer, there the brother spoke.
Should he then ask a treasure at thy hand,
Thy soft humanity would grant his suit,
Ev'n tho' it pointed to—the fair Almeida.

HAMET.
To fair Almeida!—Hear me, Holy Powers;
[kneels.
Hear me each power that in Fate's awful volume
Record'st the vows of men—the oaths of kings,
That ought to bear, like thine, the seals of truth;
Oh hear me swear—while kneeling thus before thee,
I pledge my soul's fix'd ardours to Almeida,
Nor shou'd the congregated globe united
E'er rend her from these clasping, constant arms,
'Till their last sinew sunk beneath the sabre:
This witness, gods—the guardians of our love.

[rises.
OMAR
(aside.)
'Tis as I thought—all gentle as he is,
At the fond heart he is a very lover:
'Twill be in vain to warn him.—O, my son,
Forgive the cautious scruples of my age;
No more I chill with doubts thy generous hopes.

HAMET.
Doubts!—there's no cause of doubt—I am most blest.

OMAR.
Go then, dear youth, indulge the sacred joy.
Go—and with this eternal truth be happy,
Tho' yonder orb shou'd from its sphere be hurl'd,
And this firm-sealed earth—with all her tow'rs,
The mighty labour of three thousand years—
Shou'd instant mingle with the dust that form'd them,
The equitable soul, by truth upborn,
Far o'er the vapours of this mould'ring world,
Shall bold resist each perishable power,
And greatly triumph in the crush of nature.

HAMET
(looking out.)
Omar, behold! my Almoran appears.
In the fraternal look he comes array'd.
You wrong'd him, friend—indeed you wrong'd him much.

SCENE III.

ALMORAN, HAMET, OMAR.
HAMET.
Welcome, thrice welcome, on this happy day,
For ever, ever welcome to these arms.

[embrace.
ALMORAN.
Yon Heav'n alone can tell how much I thank thee;
And yet I feel the tinge of glowing shame
Burn on my cheek as I embrace my brother.
Indeed I've been to blame, forgive me, Omar;
Brother, speak for me—I have us'd him harshly.

OMAR.
O think me what I am, I ask no more.

ALMORAN.
Thou art a friend, and still wilt bear my failings.

HAMET.
Did I not tell thee, Omar, he would act,
Ev'n as thou see'st, a brother's tenderest part.
But love is full of fears. I fear'd myself—
At first I fear'd thee, but when riper thought
Recall'd to view the associate and the friend;
The dear companion of my early cradle,
Sharer in ev'ry sport, in every toy,
Deposit lov'd of every little care,
I chid my cruelty, and all was well.

ALMORAN.
And yet, my Hamet, could'st thou guess the pangs,
The trying agonies, this conquest cost me,
Then thou indeed would pity.

HAMET.
Generous friend,
O do not wound me thus, my other self.
What shall I do, 'twixt two extremes I'm torn,
And nature strains the chords of love and friendship
With too severe a hand.

ALMORAN.
Hamet, no!
Here, in the presence of the faithful Omar,
My flame I sacrifice to purer fires.
Dear as she is, my brother, take Almeida,
Lead undisturb'd the virgin to the altar,
And from this hand receive thy charming bride.

HAMET.
Oh, Almoran, with unexampled greatness
Thy virtue soars above me—Still my elder:

ALMORAN.
But wherefore waste we thus the precious moments,
Even now the jocund, joy announcing note,
Harmonious calls thee to the scene of bliss;
Love's vermeil blushes, height'ned by a charm,
Which kind disorder wakes in every feature,
Now bloom around Almeida; while her eye
Shines ardent forth to chide the tardy Hamet.

HAMET.
With a tumultuous heart I wait the summons.
Come then, oh come, my father and my friend,
Together let us seek the heavenly maid—
Together lead her to the sacred altar;
There thou, before the gay assembled throng,
Kindly presiding o'er the nuptial rites,
Shall, with a brother's gentle privilege,
And like a parent, give her to my arms.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

OMAR
(alone).
How this old bosom akes with tender joy;
Such joy as only friends and fathers feel,
To see them thus agreeing, thus united!
Ah, bliss supreme of subjects and of kings:
Our richest joys still court the private scene,
And life's prime hope is to be bless'd at home.
He is indeed convinc'd, and I have wrong'd him.
O thou, who thus infusest kindred love
Into their social hearts, still ardent, fix,
Aid, and invigorate the generous cement;
Then like two planets may they gild the land
With undiminish'd lustre. Thro' the realm
Of Persia's wide domain may they dispense
Th' effulgent rays of truth and virtue round,
Bless every object in their glad career,
Imparting mutual brightness to each other.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

THE INSIDE OF THE CHIEF MOSQUE, MAGNIFICENTLY ILLUMINATED—ALI, IMANS, OFFICERS, AND THE ASSIATICK AMBASSADORS, PREPARED FOR THE CEREMONY —CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS, WHO ENTER WITH THE PRIESTS TO SING THE EPITHALAMIUM —AN ALTAR SUPERBLY DECORATED.
ALMORAN.
Ali approach; begin the sacred rites.

ALI.
Deep in yon consecrated grove's recess,
E'en now the holy men, their sanctities
Unseen prepare. We wait their high report.
[after a pause.
And yet so blest a marriage may rely
Upon approving heav'n. On virtuous love
The gods will surely smile. Advance, ye pair,
On to the sacred altar—we delay not.

[Hamet and Almeida go a few paces and stop.
ODE.

Angels of truth, in robes of living light,
From yonder radiant sphere,
Expand your starry pinions bright,
And lend a fav'ring ear.
And thou benign, refulgent Source of day,
Bestow a tutelary ray;
Behold thy holy ministers prepare,
To join this heav'n-elected pair.
Behold, advancing to thy shrine,
They humbly beg the boon divine.
O then, from yonder regions pure above
Descend thy cherub choir on beams of love.

CHORUS of Youths and Virgins.
Angels of truth, in robes of living light,
From yonder radiant sphere,
Expand your starry pinions bright,
And lend a fav'ring ear.

ALMORAN.
Thus then I take the fair Almeida's hand,
And to our happy brother thus present it.

[Joining their hands.
ALI.
Henceforward be these hands for ever—

Enter PRIEST (in great consternation).
PRIEST.
Cease, cease your rites, unhallow'd and unblest.
As but e'en now we kneel'd before the shrine,
Sudden tremendous darkness brooding sat,
Full on the grove, and shadow'd all beneath;
In adverse spires the angry flames arose,
And from the sacred sepulchre of Solyman
Deep sounds were heard, of inauspicious groans—
As if the troubled spirit there entomb'd
Oppos'd the nuptials—When lo! a voice,
Like thunder vollied thro' tempestuous air,
Said—take this scroll—commission'd from above.
It is the will divine—to Ali bear it.
Trembling we bow'd, and promis'd swift obedience.

ALI.
Ye powers, is this the heaven directed scroll?

ALMORAN
(eagerly).
But what imports it?

ALI
(reads).
Fate hath decreed to Almoran Almeida!

OMAR
(aside).
'Tis as I fear'd—Ali has play'd us false.

HAMET.
Away with prodigies dissembling Ali,
Finish the rites this moment, or expect—

ALMEIDA
to ALI.
The profanation then, false priest, is thine:
Art thou to learn—and from a woman's tongue—
The duties of thine office? “Know'st thou not,
“That the just gods, with whom thou dar'st to trifle,
“Act by consistent and unerring laws
“Of truth, of love, and everlasting virtue.”
And would'st thou charge—oh, force of impious fraud!—
The dext'rous artifice of wicked men
To the account of heaven! Of heav'n, which sheds
It's freshest dews of blessedness on all
Whom faith and fondness hold in bonds of honour.

HAMET.
Are these thy arts?—Oh, most unhallow'd Ali.

ALMEIDA.
“Hence each iniquity, each dark design,
“The lures of interest, and the gusts of passion,
“The insidious project, and the sordid purpose,
“With each complotting juggle of the state,
“That venal ministers or holy minions,
“Full often practice to advance themselves,
“Or feed the lusts of some deluded master,
“Receives a sanction from the powers above.”

HAMET.
Yes, priest, there's not a crime which meanness prompts,
Vain folly sighs for, mad ambition kindles;
There's not a daring dreadful villainy,
“Nor yet a fraud that the smooth courtier wishes
“To pass on prince or people, as a virtue,
“And trick it off in reverend robes, like thine,”
But still the instrument is wrong'd RELIGION,
And heav'n itself is made the guilty cause
Of heap'd enormities, which hell would start at.

ALMORAN.
Brother forbear—

ALI.
The gods must be obey'd.

ALMEIDA.
Yes, priest, I know it. Then obey them straight.
Dost thou still waver to expound their will—
Their will is obvious, simple, unperplex'd,
And never leads the enquiring mind astray,
But when entangled in thy mystick toils.
“O slow of soul as destitute of honour,
“Had'st thou e'er heard the heavenly voice of truth,
“Or could that bosom, dark and drear as death,
“Sacred to viler passion, e'er have felt
“The unblemish'd fervors of a generous love,
“Without disguise the oracle would tell thee
“—That pure plain oracle, an honest heart—
“The sacred duties at the bridal altar.”

ALI.
Still we repeat the gods, and fate—

HAMET.
Peace sacrilegious—much thou talk'st of gods,
And much of fate—thy guileful lips have utter'd?
But when did fate work miracles for tyrants?
Or when invert the order of the skies
To favour lust, impiety, and shame?

ALMORAN.
I'll hear no more—Ali renew the rites
For Almoran, renew them. Fate decrees
Almeida to my arms.

HAMET.
Brother 'tis false,
And with my life—

ALI.
Monarch desist—With reverence obey.
Omar himself can tell—

OMAR.
Yes priest, he can;
For long his wary eye has watch'd thy sliding.
Omar CAN tell thee all thou dare forget;
That mark'd for holiness, thy heart should prove,
A temple worthy the pure truth it teaches;
That thou should spurn ambition's fatal fires,
And kiss the shrine, unspotted and ador'd,
Of meek humility—“Religion's chief
“Guide of the Persian faith—that thy example
“Should, to the countless crouds thou hast in charge,
“The undefiled charities dispense,
“Cleans'd as the dews of heav'n—Amid'st thy wealth,
“Pour'd in large tribute to thy honour'd order,
“That still the willing offering of the rich
“Should poize the lots of life, and bless the poor;
“The everlasting fire that thou should'st guard,
“Ev'n 'till that sacred element subdue
“The world whereon we move—But above all,
“That thou should'st ne'er pervert the holy flame
“With fancied visions that confound the soul;
“Nor terrify with mystic forgeries
“The simple and sincere; but calm to teach,
“Powerful to aid, and patient to instruct,
“Distinguish vice from virtue, truth from error;
“Check the bold sinner whatsoe'er his station;
“Ev'n in the royal presence to assert,
“If a more awful presence prompts the duty,
“The man of truth;” nor even dare, as thou
Hast dar'd, to KNOW these glorious truths,
Yet turn them all to mockery and baseness.

HAMET.
The holy mosque is tainted with their crimes:
'Twere best retire, my love; nor will I deign
Once to reproach the priest—man's faint rebuke
Is lost where heav'n prevails not—But for thee,
Brother and friend no more—Dishonest man!
Be mine, or thine, henceforth the Persian throne.

The PRIESTS and ALI confer.
ALMORAN
(interrupting.)
Deep-judging Ali,
Is this the boasted issue of thy wiles?
Is this the proud result of all thy wisdom?
Of flaming altars and concerted groans:
This the rare miracle—the rich device—
That was to bring Almeida to my arms,
A gift of heav'n! Away, ye hoary traitors,
This instant quit the temple—hence—begone—
Dare not to justify—I'll hear no more.
Curse on thy prodigies, I here renounce them.
She shall be mine without your feeble aid;
Force, scepter'd force, ensues, avow'd and bold:
Spurn'd from this heart be ev'ry vain disguise,
My passion knows no bounds—henceforth I seize
My beateous victim in the face of day.

[Exit with Osmyn and Caled.

SCENE VI.

CHANGES TO A GROVE NEAR, PRESENTING AN OUTSIDE VIEW OF THE MOSQUE, BUT DIFFERENT FROM THAT OF THE TOMBS.
HAMET, ALMEIDA, OMAR.
HAMET.
Still onward, friend, to where yon branching palms
Embow'r the shrubs beneath. There, lov'd Almeida,
Awhile shalt thou remain with virtuous Omar,
'Till I explore some yet unbribed Iman,
That straight may foil the wicked arts of Ali.
This way, my love—I will with speed return.
[Hamet goes with them to the upper wing, and returns.
The time admits not of delay—When fraud's on foot
And guilt is once detected—Ha!—by heav'n!
[looking out.
Ev'n in this sacred privacy he haunts me—
The man on earth my soul would wish to shun—
I would avoid thee.

[To Almoran entering.
ALMORAN.
I know thou would'st;
But Almoran forbids.

HAMET.
Does Almoran?
Does Almoran forbid? And who is he
That thus presumes, with mock prerogative,
To bar the passage of the injur'd Hamet?
And hath this mighty monarch been reduc'd
To poor hypocrisy, and foul contrivance?
Is the rich blood of Solyman debas'd
To mix with mercenaries, who can forge
Upon the gods they worship? Shame upon thee!

ALMORAN.
Tempt me no further, boy; thy life's at stake.

[puts his hand on his sabre.
HAMET.
Yes, draw thy sabre—rise upon the friend;
Convert the sultan to the common stabber:
Assail—oh glorious—Hamet while unarm'd—
The only moment thou wouldst dare to meet him.

ALMORAN.
Hah—would'st dare—

HAMET.
Tyrant, I said so—dare.
Hast thou not stoop'd to despicable frauds,
To vile deceits, and arts of little cunning,
Beneath thy manhood, ev'n beneath thy pride—
To arts which cowards practice—mark it—cowards.
When did the brave—the brave are ever generous—
When did the brave man skulk in the disguise
Of priestly prodigies, or bribe a slave
To traffick with his function—sell his gods—
“Stand calmly by to see the pageant pass,”
And tear the trembling virgin from the altar.

ALMORAN.
Villain, forbear.

HAMET.
Nay, more than virgin yet more sacred,
The appointed wife—Yes, royal ravisher,
Fraudful to steal thy brother's wife away.
Ha!—were thy ruffians ready—Oh, insidious!

Enter CALED with guards.
[They offer to seise Hamet, Almoran prevents.
ALMORAN.
Caled, forbear. Now then, Insulter,
In manly scorn of all thy base aspersions,
The outrag'd Almoran, to thy confusion,
Ev'n on thy heart shall PROVE his want of courage.
There, vaunting insolent, defend thyself—
[Throws his sabre to Hamet and takes Caled's.
Now try thy boasted bravery.

HAMET.
Thanks to thy wounded pride for this one virtue.

[Prepare to fight.

SCENE VII.

Enter ALMEIDA.
[Guards seise Hamet.
ALMEIDA.
Desist, inhuman murderer, nor deeper plunge
Thy soul in guilt.

ALMORAN.
Ah, Almeida here!
Now see if thou escape a second time.

HAMET.
Off, ruffians, off. Art thou a coward now?

ALMORAN.
I will not take thy life, nor hear thee rail,
But thus assert an elder brother's right.

ALMEIDA.
What right, thou violating man?—What right?
To whom hast thou a right?—And is it thus
Thy horrid reign begins?—Is this, vain boaster—
Thou large of promise, but of deeds, penurious—
Is this the first great act of Persia's king?

ALMORAN.
Now thank the gods!

ALMEIDA.
For what dost thank them?
That yet, forbearing, they suspend the thunder,
And do not send the ready light'ning forth
To crush thee, proudly blooming in thy crimes.
But death were lenity—live on despis'd—
Live, to endure th'extremities of shame,
The pangs of conscience, and the realm's contempt,
The people's hatred, and thy own reproach.

ALMORAN.
Full dearly shall these base aspersions cost thee:
This instant seise, and bear her to our palace.

[They seise her.
HAMET.
Oh! by the gods I charge thee—
It is your prince—your future queen.

ALMORAN.
Caled, along.

[Guards drag her.
ALMEIDA.
Invisible power of nature, truth, and justice—
If ever innocence—how the ruffians tear me—
I will not go—ye shall not—Hamet—
[Drops on her knees.
Oh, Hamet, Hamet—

[Dragged off.
HAMET.
In pity, brother—on my knees—
Oh!—murd'rous—barbarous—cruel—

[Torn away.
ALMORAN.
The lady once secur'd, be Hamet free.

[Exeunt.