Sadak And Kalasrade ; Or, The Waters of Oblivion A Romantic Opera, In Two Acts |
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Scene 3.
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 | Sadak And Kalasrade ; Or, The Waters of Oblivion |  |
Scene 3.
—An Apartment in the Caliph's Palace.(Enter Amurath and Slaves.)
Amurath.
Hath aught been heard of Azim? Nay, ye know not.
Call the Vizier.
(Exeunt Slaves.)
Romance.—Amurath.
She lay beneath the forest shade,
As midst its leaves a lily fair,
Sleeping she lay, young Kalasrade,
Nor dreamt that mortal hover'd there.
All as she slept, a sudden smile
Played round her lips in dimpling grace;
And softest blushes glanced the while
In roseate beauty o'er her face.
And then those blushes passed away
From her pure cheek, and Kalasrade,
Pale as a new-blown lily, lay
Slumb'ring beneath the forest glade.
As midst its leaves a lily fair,
Sleeping she lay, young Kalasrade,
Nor dreamt that mortal hover'd there.
All as she slept, a sudden smile
Played round her lips in dimpling grace;
And softest blushes glanced the while
In roseate beauty o'er her face.
And then those blushes passed away
From her pure cheek, and Kalasrade,
Pale as a new-blown lily, lay
Slumb'ring beneath the forest glade.
Oh! lovely was that blush so meek,
That smile half playful, half demure;
And lovelier still that pallid cheek,
That look so gentle, yet so pure.
I left her in her purity,
Slumb'ring beneath the forest shade;
I feared to meet her waking eye,
The young, the timid Kalasrade.
I left her; yet, by day, by night,
Dwells in my soul that image fair,
Madd'ning as thoughts of past delight,
As guilty hope, as fierce despair.
That smile half playful, half demure;
And lovelier still that pallid cheek,
That look so gentle, yet so pure.
I left her in her purity,
Slumb'ring beneath the forest shade;
I feared to meet her waking eye,
The young, the timid Kalasrade.
I left her; yet, by day, by night,
Dwells in my soul that image fair,
Madd'ning as thoughts of past delight,
As guilty hope, as fierce despair.
(Enter Achmet.)
Amurath,
Ha! Achmet! Speak Vizier. Is she arrived?
Thou know'st whom I would say—the only she,
Fair Kalasrade.
Achmet.
Dread sir, the beauty comes—
Already, Azim, with his warlike train
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Threading the mountain path.
Amurath.
And Sadak?
Achmet.
He,
This very day leads the stout traitor, Othman,
A prisoner to Bagdad.
Amurath.
Would she were not
His wife! Just mastering a strong rebellion,
And then returning in his pride of conquest
To such a desolation. I must quell
These thoughts. I cannot quell my love.
Achmet.
And he
Is dangerous, sire. A bold ambitious soldier,
Who courts the popular praise. More dangerous
Than Othman was, and in his inmost heart
A deeper traitor.
Amurath.
Thou hast ever been
His enemy.
Achmet.
Because I deemed him thine.
Amurath.
Falsely! He was all loyalty.
Achmet.
The keener
His indignation now. We must secure him
Ere he can move the fickle soldiery
To aid his swift revenge.
Amurath.
Even as thou wilt—
I have no thought save of fair Kalasrade.
Didst thou not say she comes?
Duet.—Amurath and Achmet
Amurath.
She comes, she comes, the vision bright
That I have longed yet feared to see,
And those twin stars of dewy light
Her waking eyes, will dwell on me;
Then like a young gazelle, at sight
Of the bold hunter, turn and flee.
That I have longed yet feared to see,
And those twin stars of dewy light
Her waking eyes, will dwell on me;
Then like a young gazelle, at sight
Of the bold hunter, turn and flee.
She comes, she comes, whose form, whose face,
Give token what the mind must be;
And I shall see her moving grace,
Shall hear her speak, and speak to me;
Thrice happy, tho' in sportive chase,
The young gazelle should turn and flee
Give token what the mind must be;
And I shall see her moving grace,
Shall hear her speak, and speak to me;
Thrice happy, tho' in sportive chase,
The young gazelle should turn and flee
Achmet.
I triumph o'er the haughty foe
That laugh'd to scorn the statesman's care,
But we must deal a craftier blow,
Must lure him by a wilier snare.
Fearful the wounded panther's wrath,
When crossed upon his homeward path.
That laugh'd to scorn the statesman's care,
But we must deal a craftier blow,
Must lure him by a wilier snare.
Fearful the wounded panther's wrath,
When crossed upon his homeward path.
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Yes, yes, I triumph! He must fall;—
But 'twill a deed of danger be,
That mighty chieftain to enthrall,
And lead him on to destiny.
I'd cross the raging panther's path,
Sooner than Sadak in his wrath.
But 'twill a deed of danger be,
That mighty chieftain to enthrall,
And lead him on to destiny.
I'd cross the raging panther's path,
Sooner than Sadak in his wrath.
(Exeunt.)
| Sadak And Kalasrade ; Or, The Waters of Oblivion | |