University of Virginia Library

SCENE FOURTH.

—An Apartment in Blue-Beard's Castle.
Fati.
In vain you console me,—too sure is my doom,
And the dews of to-morrow must weep o'er my tomb.
Enough! I forgive you; 'twas Azrael's decree,
That bloody my death and untimely should be.
Poor captives of fate! the entangled gazelle
May break through the snare of the hunter as well
As we, with our wisdom, our cunning and wit,
Escape from the meshes by destiny knit!
Be at rest, I forgive you!

Ayesha.
Yet, yet we have space
To contrive our escape from this horrible place.
Two days have gleam'd sadly o'er dungeon and tower,
Since the Lord of Damascus set forth with his power.
Once more must be wash'd from the tables of fate,
Ere the shade of his presence will darken the gate.
And Selim, by this time, must his uncle have met.
And, my dear injured sister!—I'd lay you a bet
That ere our tyrant returns to our door,
His way will be block'd by the bands of Mount Hor.

Fati.
Can Arabs contend with a warrior like him?
Oh, better I die than endanger Selim!

Ayesha.
Yet, yet I have something to check your despair—
I have search'd through the south turret chamber, and there—

Fati.
Oh, name not the turret—that desolate room,
Where my wretched forerunners in folly and doom
Lie mouldering and green!

Ayesha.
I beheld with afright,
And horrid, most horrid indeed was the sight!
But I still persevered, for there prest on my mind
A suspicion of mystery lurking behind.
And at length I have found it; an aperture small
That leads to a stair in the bulk of the wall;
Beneath it a postern conceal'd, and I hope
That with me you will pack up your things and elope.

Fati.
No packing! no loitering! conduct me this minute!

Ayesha.
Law! your train will be bloodied! allow me to pin it:
We have plenty of time.
(looking through the door.
Oh, confusion and sorrow!
The Bashaw has mistaken to-day for to-morrow;
He is now on the staircase.—Oh, would it might crumble—
I'd break my own neck to ensure him a tumble!

Abou.
(speaking without, R.)
Within there! what slaves! are ye sleeping or dead?
If ye sleep till the morning, your couch will be red!
Am I forced like a dog of the desert to wait,
No slaves at my stirrup, no guard at my gate,
And unhonour'd by sign or salute from the wall—
To sneak like a thief to my own castle hall?
Up, up to the ramparts! unlimber the swivels,
You will soon have a visit from Arabs or devils!
They are hard upon my track!

Ayesha.
Recollect what I told you,
Cheer up! he must not in this anguish behold you;
Put him off for a while if he talks of the keys,
By the help of a kiss you may do it with ease.
But gain a few hours, and, I'll wager my neck,
Some tidings will come of Selim and his Shekh.
(exit Fatima, L., Abou Malek enters R.
Oh, my lord! my dear brother! such sudden delight!
We never expected you home by to-night!

Abou.
So, so, where's your sister!

Ayesha.
And as I was saying,
Your highness, we thought, in the city was staying;
So we fasten'd the gate, sent the servants to sleep,
Good hours we were always accustom'd to keep,
And we were just talking—

Abou.
My curse on your head.
No doubt you were talking—

Ayesha.
Of going to bed.
And—

Enter Fatima, L.
Abou.
Fatima! well may you boast of the charms
That bring back your husband so soon to your arms,
Three days I had promised—my heart could not wait,
And the second has seen me return to your gate.
Escaped from an ambush that threaten'd my life,
I come with delight to my home and my wife.
My wife and my queen! Yes—your trial is o'er,
And the fiend of Suspicion shall haunt me no more!
But what?—All in tears—in confusion!

Fati
Great sir,
Your return so unlook'd for, so sudden,—I fear—

Abou.
Fear! what!

Ayesha.
That some sudden disaster or sickness
Is the cause, mighty Lord, of your singular quickness,
Then, you seem to be wearied, and I have a notion,
You had better retire with a nightcap and potion.
Then the ambush you mention'd has thrill'd us with fear.
Who could be your foes?

Abou.
From Mount Hor, or Mount Seir,
Some rascally Arabs—

Ayesha.
My love, do you hear? (aside to Fatima—aloud.)

And pray does your highness suppose they are near?

Abou.
Oh, Prophet! great Prophet! if ever I come
To bliss, I entreat let my Houri be dumb!
Give that clapper a holiday once in thy life.
But come thou to my bosom, my friend, and my wife!
(to Fatima.
Thy silence, thy gentleness, ever must please.
Alas—I forgot—you may give me the keys.

Fati.
The keys, my dread Lord? give me time to prepare,
I have lost them, mislaid them—can't tell where they are.

Abou.
You have lost them! mislaid them! oh, ominous word!
The keys, in an instant!

Fati.
(kneeling and covering her face)
Receive them, my Lord!

Abou.
(after looking at the keys, he drops them)
And art thou detected, whom least I suspected?
Oh, prophetess! prophetess! great was thy skill!

Ayesha.
(flinging herself at his feet)
It all was my doing! mine, mine, be the ruin!
But do not, oh, do not your Fatima kill!

Abou.
(turning away from Fatima)
I dare not behold thee,—should my arms once enfold thee,
My purpose, I feel, in a moment would cool.

Ayesha.
(aside to Fatima)
Yet, yet I would try him—with compliments ply him:
A husband, well flatter'd, is always a fool.

Fati.
Is pity so strange to a conqueror's bosom?
So slight an offence must such vengeance pursue?

Ayesha.
Was your father a wolf? was your nurse an opossum,
That your heart does not melt her distresses to view?

Fati.
When first from the cot of my father you bore me,
I hoped for protection from peril and scorn.

Abou.
Oh, horror, to see thee thus kneeling before me,
And kneeling in vain! I have sworn! I have sworn!
(A great noise without, fire of musketry, shouts, &c
By Heaven! are these Arabs so close on my traces?
Have the rascals such courage, such conduct and skill?
For a moment I leave thee, 'twere bliss to reprieve thee,
But hope not, oh, hope not to soften my will.

(Exit R.
Ayesha.
Thank our stars! he is gone, and the castle's surrounded!
And—oh! blessed accident, here are the keys!
I swear he shall keep us no longer impounded,
Make off! we can get through the postern with ease.
Oh! me, come again.

Re-enter Abou Malek, R., who catches Fatima. Ayesha escapes, R.
Abou.
What, ye fiends! are ye flying?
Have ye sold me to fall by the bands of Mount Hor?

Ayesha.
(without)
Oh, hasten to rescue a lady from dying!
Oh, hasten, Selim, I'm unbolting the door!

Abou.
Is it thus? Oh, I thank thee for giving me rest;
Thy treason has taken a load from my breast!
I can murther thee now without fear of relenting,
And fall, if my doom is to fall, unrepenting!
But live, while I print a last kiss on thy brow,
The last and the sweetest!

Selim.
(rushing in with a drawn sabre, R.)
Now, murderer, now!
Turn, infidel Giaour!

Abou.
Is the lion at bay?
Woe, woe to the hunter who stands in his way!
(Fight.
Ha! Peasant! well fought! that last thrust was a raker,
And my business—will soon be—with Monkir—and Aakir.

(Falls.
Enter Ayesha and Arabs, R.
Abou.
Oh prophetess! prophetess! well hast thou said!
And Fatima, fear not! kneel down by my head!
Believers—bear witness! my sins to atone,
I make her my heiress—the castle's her own!
Forgive me! farewell—I had more—but 'tis past,
The first of my wives whom I loved is—the last!

(Dies.
Shekh.
The Bashaw had a right to devise his estate,
But the Shekh of Mount Hor has a hold on his plate!

(The Shekh and his Attendants are all loaded with booty.
Fati.
Alas, my Lord Shekh!—you can ne'er be repaid,
For your generous assistance!

Shekh.
Pooh! fighting's my trade!
But, Selim, in my mind, ere your union is hurried,
Abou Malek had better be handsomely buried.
Of weddings, poor man! he abundance has seen,
But 'tis always unlucky to marry thirteen!

CURTAIN.