University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

OMAR, OSMYN.
OMAR.
Unhappy, wretched, raging man, farewel!
“In what a blessed time his father died:
“The gods foresaw the mischiefs in advance,
“And took him from such anguish to themselves.”
Come, thou disgraceful servant of the guilty,
Lead to these glooms—I follow thee undaunted.—
Dearer to Omar far the dungeon'd darkness,
Than all the sunshine Osmyn can enjoy,
While Osmyn is the pandar of a tyrant.

OSMYN.
Slaves, leave your prisoner, and wait without;
Remove the massy bars that close his cave—
I will myself conduct the captive thither.

[Exit guards.
OMAR.
Why trifles Osmyn with his king's command?
He seems disturb'd.—

OSMYN.
Omar, thou strik'st me hard—
Survey this face—is nought depicted there
That speaks an alter'd soul?

OMAR.
An alter'd soul!

OSMYN.
Yes, Omar, thou hast shewn me to myself,
Long since, prepar'd to seize some fair occasion
Of breaking from the manacles I wore—
Worse than these bonds to thee—Yes, Omar, thou,
Like the pure mirror in a cherub's hand,
Hath held the hideous picture to my view,
And shewn to Osmyn his deformity.
Here, by the holy pow'rs of heav'n, I swear—

[Kneels.
OMAR.
Osmyn, forbear—If thou inded art fix'd,—
If vows have past between thy soul and thee,
Oaths are superfluous, impious, and vain:
The solemn secret purpose be thy bond,
And note of that is mark'd above already.

OSMYN.
In all things far above me. I'll not swear,
But do a deed shall better speak my truth
Than all the lavish language of the lip.
Thy glory is at hand—thine and Almeida's.—
I have, my friend, devis'd a pious fraud
To serve an injur'd king. Hamet, this night,
Visits his lov'd Almeida. That the least—
Freedom and virtue will attend the issue—
A fit disguise, already is prepar'd
A slave—the trusty Aladin—attends,
Silent and safe to guide the happy Hamet
To the appointed place.—What's further purpos'd
I will unfold hereafter.

OMAR.
Generous Osmyn,
I need not thank thee—there's a god within
Each honest breast, that well rewards the virtuous.
What's to be done?

OSMYN.
I'll tell thee as we pass.
A thousand slaves look up to me for life;
The tyrant plac'd me o'er them for his pride;
Yet do they hate the person they protect.—
These, at a nod, I summon to the cave,
Where I will now conduct thee.—There remain
Till the rich crisis of a just revenge.
Trust to my faith, and fortune is our own.

OMAR.
Now, Osmyn, thou indeed art good and virtuous,
And with an honest joy my heart enfolds thee!
[Embraces.
But haste, my friend—fie on these loitering limbs—
Oh, that awhile I could shake of my age!
But even now, should nature close the scene,
Still should I doubly triumph in my death,
Since I have serv'd my king—and sav'd a soul.

[Exeunt.