 | The Impostor |  |
SCENE I.
Mahomet's Pavillion.To Mahomet enter Palmyra.
Maho.
Palmyra here!—Come to my arms, my daughter.
Pal.
If I must lose your love—your blessing, sir,
Is yet a boon, which sure I have not forfeited
By any lapse of duty.
[Kneels.
Maho.
Loved and bless'd,
Thou art thyself the blessing of the Prophet;
More loved, than ever father loved a child.
[Embraces.
Pal.
You did refuse to ransom me—preferr'd
A foreign issue to your own Palmyra;
Although to poise the lightness of my worth,
The tender father added, in exchange,
The purchase of a realm.
Maho.
He is a villain—
Sopheian is a dog!
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I know not that—
He has proved a gentle parent to your daughter;
The best of parents!
Maho.
How?
Pal.
O, pardon, sir!
If I have err'd, my guilt will stand reproved
In your excess of goodness. I am come
An earnest suitor to you.
Maho.
Say, fair pleader.
Pal.
That of your bounty you would straight remit
Those children to their sire, with all due circumstance,
That may approve their birth.
Maho.
An hour shall send
My latest answer.
Pal.
Let it be a kind one—
Maho.
Trust me, he shan't repine.
Pal.
Thus let me thank you.
[Bends her knee.
And shall I bear him back this kind assurance?
Maho.
Not so, my child—you stay with us.
Pal.
Alas!—
My lord forgets his daughter is a captive.
Maho.
I here strike off all chains, save of my love—
And that's a dear retention.
Pal.
But, my lord,
Can you strike off the chains of honour too,
That bind me to return?
Maho.
I can, Palmyra;
Nor may the chance of battle give Sopheian
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To me thy parent.
Pal.
Such Sopheian's plea
For his own children.
Maho.
He's an infidel,
A wretch anathemized! Compact and faith
With such a one, is impious.
Pal.
Ah, my father!
If Heaven's best worshippers make light of faith,
Is it with sinners we should hope to find
The sacred obligation?
Maho.
Ha!—no more—
Hast thou cast off respect and fair obedience—
All duty?
Pal.
Whom, my lord, shall I obey—
My first, or latter Prophet? You once told me,
That truth, faith, virtue, honour, were immutable,
Eternal in their natures: if you now
Would change that system, when may I expect
Another variation, and so onward,
'Till I am lost to all?
Maho.
Confound the lecture—
[Aside.
I grieve, my child, that weighty avocations
Intrude upon our converse—Do thy pleasure—
I did but trifle—
[Exit Mahomet.
| The Impostor | |