OCR Text |
Show i8 M U S T A P H A. Achmet. What can malice forge T o raifea doubt againft you f Have yoa not Fulfili'd all duties of a fon and fervant t> In peace, moft true and loyal to your father : In war, your fword has ever been empioy'd, ' And ever with fuccefs, againft his foes. What would he more ? - • - - Sufpe&ed ? no, my Lord, ' y T h e Sultan trulely loves you. Muftapha. Bred in camps, Train'd in the gallant opennefs of truth That beft becomes a foidier ; thou, m y friend Art happily a ftranger to the bafenefs, T h e infamy of Courts. Achmet, the Cafaan W h e n terrtblo with tempcft, is lefs fatal JP f T o the frail bark that plows it, than a court T o innocence and worth. A ftepdame'a hatoedl Hatred implacable, bscaufe unjult; A Vizir, meanly canning, cooly cruel, Grown old in arts of treachety and ruin Purfue rae, hunt m e down / A n d what can 1, UnpracWd in all guile, oppofe to dark And deadly rage ? < .the breath of pobtic praife ! A n empty name -that will but fpeed my ruin! r ' Achmet. W h y fhould they be your foes \ why hate the worth That never injur'd them ? Forgive me, heaven! Could I believe fo bafely of mankind, I would renounce their feliowfhip, and feek T h e filvan wild, to herd with nobler brutes. H o w can this be I All things around as wear A face of peace and filence- Muftapha. Such the filence, T h e tearful ftillnefs, ere the thunder burft ! Elie whence this boding folitude ? this tent By all forfaken, even the raeaneft flaves I As w e had fent the peftiience before, Our » M U S T A P H A . 19 Our mortal harbinger*!--But be it £>. True valor, Iriend, on virtue founded ftrong, Meets all events alike. Achmet. Ah, Prince, 'twas cruel Forgive m y honeft love 'twas moft unkind T o nide thefe apprehenfions from your Iriend." And now, too late, difclofe the fatal fecret. But was it not moft rafh, if fuch your fears, Moft wilful, unfupported by your troops, T o meet this danger \ Muftapha. Achmet--I can die : But dare not difobcy a father's oxdtrt. Achmet. T h e Vizir mo*es this way. Muftapha. Then, O m y foul ! Wake all tny powers, and arm m e ftrong wtthm ; That honefty and honor, bravely plain, M a y ftrike confufion through hi* hollow fmiie, And vizor'd malice. mmmmmmmmmm SCENE II. Muftapha, Ruftan, Achmet, Bajka. Ruftan. May the Power we ferve, Moft merciful and gracious, crown my Lord, Thro' length of years, with brightnefs and renown I T o fee your Highncfshere m y fed has long, Ha? warmly wjftYd. Muftapha. Becaufe thon art m y friend. Ruftan. Heaven knows with what fond warmth, m y willing tongue, Still p ompted from the heart, has painted forth Yout matchlefs virtues , that exalted courage, That |