University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A COURT IN THE CASTLE.
Enter Abdallah and Orasmyn.
ABDALLAH.
When wilt thou learn, my son, to guard thy heart,
Which speaks but too expressively by glances?
—I would not wish the council to discern
They but propose our pleasure.—

Orasmyn.
Pray you, pardon,
If ardent nature stifles feebler reason.
—Could I behold Almeyda, and restrain
This glow of transport, ne'er could I deserve
The bliss our prophet promises the faithful.
—No, not himself, though Heav'n inspir'd, ere fancied
So exquisite a beauty! Yet that charm,
Nature's prime gift to woman, in Almeyda
Is lost—absorpt in mind!—

Abdallah.
Check not thy transport;
For tho' to others I would have thee silent,
To me be wholly frank; and thus reward me
For all my anxious, fond solicitude,
Thro' many a long, long year. I own, I fear'd
That haughtiness, ill-suited to her years,
Would strike thee with displeasure.

Orasmyn.
Call not thus
The sacred consciousness that waits on beauty,
And awes the wishes it awakes! I ever
Disdain'd our narrow laws, which make the sex
Domestic, artificial beings merely.—
—No! 'tis a character refin'd, decided,
That greatly charms the soul, and charms for ever!
—Why knew I not before she was unequall'd?

Abdallah
—(smiling scarcastically).
Perchance ev'n now I know it not; yet hear
These youthful slights well pleas'd: for thus each lover
Adorns his fancy's choice.

Orasmyn.
But who can boast
A choice like mine? Nor did ev'n I suspect,
Indulgent Heav'n in prodigality,
Had center'd all perfections in one woman.—
I came prepared by rigid rules to judge her—
Her before whom all rules, all modes, must vanish!
—For, oh! when first my eyes beheld the queen,
My heart avow'd her empire ere my tongue.
I wond'ring gaz'd! and, gazing more, more wonder'd!
Ethereal loveliness informs her frame,
And beams in living glory from her eyes!
Yet o'er these charms sublime, meek modesty
Draws a transparent veil of wand'ring graces,
As fleecy clouds flit o'er the noon day sun,
And leave us opportunity to gaze,
Upon an orb too bright else for beholding!

Abdallah.
I could grow once again a boy to hear thee—
Graces I could perceive—not perfect beauty—

Orasmyn.
Beauty's an indeterminate idea
Till fix'd by love—whose ever-pow'rful magic
Awakens a new being—love, when heav'n
Leaves to the vulgar sense its work imperfect,
Illumes our sight to trace the angel there.
—Thro' love we share our Maker's great prerogative,
Creating ev'ry charm, and then approving!
—Yet when she spoke, I half forgot her beauty—
Oh! with what melting harmony she won,
The very air to silence; no rude breath
Dar'd blend with her's, but nature's self stood hush'd
Awe-struck, ev'n as Orasmyn—

Abdallah.
Be warn'd in time
Against a rev'rence so profound; for women
(Capricious still and wayward) often scorn
Who grasps with trembling hand the fancied setter;
While with distinguishing regard, they view
The bolder man, who wears it as an ornament.

Orasmyn
(disdainfully)
How should this gen'ral censure touch Almeyda?

Abdallah.
Nay then thou lov'st indeed if thou hast found
Already she is peerless—I have done—
E'en win her thy own way; but win her quickly.
To match thee with Almeyda, and exalt thee
To empire in her right, has been I own
The object of my life—nor should I think
That life itself too dear to crown my purpose.
—In the bold outline of my policy,
I heeded not, 'tis true, the glowing colours
Fond fancy gives her fav'rites—yet those tints
Complete life's picture well—to see thee great
Was all I ask'd but to behold thee happy.
Leaves me without a wish!

Orasmyn.
Still in this,
As in each incident of various life,
I owe much to my father! yet for once
This heart asserts a right to guide itself—
Nor would obtrude too early on Almeyda, passion she might doubt.—

Abdallah.
Again thou err'st—
But could'st thou win my judgment to approve
This idle scruple, it were now too late.—
The Council know my thoughts, and have ere this
Propos'd thee to the Queen.

Orasmyn.
Presumptuous!—rash!—

Abdallah.
Judicious rather!—see'st thou not the prudence
To bind her to compliance, e'er she knows
The pow'r, the pride, the pleasure of dominion?

Orasmyn.
But what can bind the heart, save its own choice?
I would have woo'd her with watchful eyes,
Such unremitting tender, prompt, affection,
As might have won her of herself, and crown'd
The future days of both with happiness.
—Oh! never let ambition tie the knot,
Pure love alone can hallow!

Abdallah.
Would 'twere tied,
Tho' all this wooing follow'd—son, I tell thee,
Essential is the diff'rence of her state,
Immured within this castle, where I reign—
While thou without maintain'st a like controul,
And an obsequious council speak our will,
To the elation of unbounded pow'r,
The sweets of flatt'ry, and the charm of fondness,
The glowing grace of popularity!—
Almeyda wants not shrewdness soon to learn,
If she would see Granada, she must wed thee.

Orasmyn
(turning sorrwfully from him.)
More changeable than are the vernal clouds,
Which borrow heav'n's own hues one hour to charm us,
And e'er the next burst in a gloomy deluge,
Is the fond happiness a lover fancies!
—Oh, I do fear me, mine is gone already!
Did she not bear an elevated mind,
She might unconscious share a common fate
And so perhaps might I—content to lose
Our lives in apathy, and call it duty.
—But well Almeyda knows the rights of sex,
Of rank, and all the heart's refin'd distinctions,
Nor did she meet in mine one uncongenial.
—Pardon, my Lord, those vain regrets—I'll quell them,
And once more wait thee.

[Exit.
Abdallah.
It is ever so,
Still in fruition are our wishes punished.
—Orasmyn, I would have thee wed thy cousin,
But why this adoration?—when I see her,
The spirits of the dead arise before me,
And wither all my projects, all my pow'rs!
—Wherefore should man invent a hell hereafter?
Alas! guilt makes one here! and he who sins,
Tho' never mortal eye, or voice reprove him,
Finds in his bosom every fiend that peoples
The dark profound—in her I see her brothers—
Yet must she be Orasmyn's bride, or—nothing.

[Exit.