University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

The Empress's Apartment.
Aphendina and Elisana.
APHENDINA.
My Grief abates each Moment, Elisana,
As I grow nearer to my Joys above:
This News has rather chear'd, than sunk my Spirits.
—I will not weep: This is my Bridal Day,
Shall reconduct me to my Osman's Arms—
I may o'ertake him, if I'm expeditious:
Where is the Draught I gave you? Bring it me.

ELISANA.
For Heaven's Sake, my Queen! don't urge me to it:
I have dispos'd of it, cast it away.

APHENDINA.
I know thou hast not; my Commands have ever
Been too minutely kept by Elisana.

ELISANA.
I beg you, Madam, on my Knees intreat you,
Shew pity to your precious Life; it may
Be all a Forgery, and done to try you.

APHENDINA.
I could have known it true, without Advice;
I feel it in my Heart, 'tis one half weaker
Than 'twas before; I know he's dead by that:
Bring me the Draught, I go to meet my Osman!
Deprive me not of that, my last Resort;
I charge you, give it me; bring Osman's Cup,
I'll drink it out of that—O noble Osman!
My Love, I come: Thou wilt not soar too fast;
Stay but a Moment, Osman, I am with you—
[Takes the Draught and pours it out; knocking at the Door.
Stir not 'till I have drank the Potion down.

ELISANA.
O! stay my Princess—
[Knocking again; while she is gone, Aphendina drinks.
Madam, your Father.

[Enter Ashad.
ASHAD.
O! Aphendina, you have Cause to grieve;
The horrid Action of this Day, my Child!
Staggers Belief, disclaims all Precedent:
But let us not despair, my Aphendina;
True Fortitude consists in nobly suffering.
Ha! what means this, Child?

[Seeing the Cup.
APHENDINA.
O! my Father, pardon.

ASHAD.
I fear thou'st rashly swerv'd from Virtue's Path;
Art quitting, without Leave, the Post allotted thee
By Heaven—Think on thy Osman, Aphendina!
He persever'd, nor dar'd, with impious Hand,
Abridge his Life; but gloriously fell,
O'erborne by Multitude—Be not outdone,
My Child, in Virtue; live, revenge his Cause.

APHENDINA.
My Father! every Nerve's unstrung.

ELISANA.
Madam, be comforted.

ASHAD.
Despair not, Aphendina, Am'rath's good;
His Bosom glows with ev'ry Royal Virtue,
Worthy of Achmet's Son, and Osman's Brother.
—Thy Osman's Death will amply be reveng'd.

APHENDINA.
Great Mahomet! inspire the glorious Cause—
O! might I live—but Fate forbids the Wish;
Forgive me, Heav'n! if rashly—O! my Father.

[Fainting, the Mufti supports her.
ASHAD.
Help, Elisana! fly for instant Succour!

APHENDINA.
It is too late—a Damp has chill'd my Heart,
And tells me—that I soon shall meet—my Osman.

[Enter Servant with the Pocket-Book; Aphendina sees it and shrieks.
ASHAD.
My Child! my Aphendina! why that Shriek?

APHENDINA.
It was—my Osman's—O!—I can—no more.

[Dies.
ASHAD.
Art thou then gone, my ever dearest Child!
—Yes, thou art at Repose—Would I were so!—
If this be Death, who would not court their Exit.

[Enter Amurath and Attendants.
AMURATH.
Most rev'rend Ashad! see thy Prince—I come
Not to display the Pomp of sov'reign Majesty,
Dress'd in the Frowns of Ottoman Severity;
But to join Plaints for Loss of noble Osman,
And sooth the gentle Aphendina's Grief.

ASHAD.
Your Goodness, Sir, demands my humblest Thanks:
My Child, my Aphendina! is at rest;
Her Cares are all compos'd; a downy Slumber
Has overtaken her Senses, and she's happy.

AMURATH.
It joys me much, good Ashad; may her Griefs
Soon lose their Poignancy, grow more supportable;
Nor shall my Aid be wanting.

ASHAD.
O! my Prince,
Her Woes have reach'd the Heart of Aphendina;
The icy Hand of Death has clos'd her Eyes:
Alas! she sleeps, Sir, never more to wake.

AMURATH.
What means my Ashad?

ASHAD.
Aphendina's gone
To Bliss—to Osman—ne'er to part again.

[Amurath goes to view her.
AMURATH.
O! Aphendina—lovely, virtuous Bride!
How are the Roses faded on thy Cheeks!
Yet, thou art lovely e'en in Death; the Smile
Triumphant sitting on thy Brow, denotes
Thou'st met thy Osman—They are happy, Ashad.

ASHAD.
They are, my Prince.

AMURATH.
I need not teach you, Mufti,
How to submit to the Decrees of Heaven.

ASHAD.
O! Aphendina—

AMURATH.
What does thy Emp'ror feel!
—She has not fall'n unpitied by me, Mufti;
Osman, nor she, like vulgar Dust shall sleep,
Without a Tribute paid to their Remains:
Each miscreant Heart, that but design'd their Fall,
O'er them shall bleed, to purge its foul Disloyalty:
—Hence let us humbly hope, nor dare t'arraign
The Ways of Providence—Tho' by Permission,
The Generous, the Brave, th'Ignoble fall;
And like Events promiscuous chance to All:
Some happier Scene awaits, some future Heaven,
To counterpoize, and set the Balance even.