Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales Part 16
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There will his boundless wealth, the spoil of Asia, Heap'd by your father's ill-plac'd bounties on him, Disperse rebellion through the eastern world; Bribe to his cause, and list beneath his banners, Arabia's roving troops, the sons of swiftness, And arm the Persian heretick against thee; There shall he waste thy frontiers, check thy conquests, And, though at length subdued, elude thy vengeance.
MAHOMET.
Elude my vengeance! No--My troops shall range Th' eternal snows that freeze beyond Maeotis, And Africk's torrid sands, in search of Cali.
Should the fierce north, upon his frozen wings, Bear him aloft, above the wond'ring clouds, And seat him in the pleiads' golden chariots, Thence shall my fury drag him down to tortures; Wherever guilt can fly, revenge can follow.
MUSTAPHA.
Wilt thou dismiss the savage from the toils, Only to hunt him round the ravag'd world?
MAHOMET.
Suspend his sentence--Empire and Irene Claim my divided soul. This wretch, unworthy To mix with n.o.bler cares, I'll throw aside For idle hours, and crush him at my leisure.
MUSTAPHA.
Let not th' unbounded greatness of his mind Betray my king to negligence of danger.
Perhaps, the clouds of dark conspiracy Now roll, full fraught with thunder, o'er your head.
Twice, since the morning rose, I saw the ba.s.sa, Like a fell adder swelling in a brake, Beneath the covert of this verdant arch, In private conference; beside him stood Two men unknown, the partners of his bosom; I mark'd them well, and trac'd in either face The gloomy resolution, horrid greatness, And stern composure, of despairing heroes; And, to confirm my thoughts, at sight of me, As blasted by my presence, they withdrew, With all the speed of terrour and of guilt.
MAHOMET.
The strong emotions of my troubled soul Allow no pause for art or for contrivance; And dark perplexity distracts my counsels.
Do thou resolve: for, see, Irene comes!
At her approach each ruder gust of thought Sinks, like the sighing of a tempest spent, And gales of softer pa.s.sion fan my bosom.
[Cali _enters with_ Irene, _and exit [Transcriber's note: sic] with_ Mustapha.
SCENE VII.
MAHOMET, IRENE.
MAHOMET.
Wilt thou descend, fair daughter of perfection, To hear my vows, and give mankind a queen?
Ah! cease, Irene, cease those flowing sorrows, That melt a heart impregnable till now, And turn thy thoughts, henceforth, to love and empire.
How will the matchless beauties of Irene, Thus bright in tears, thus amiable in ruin, With all the graceful pride of greatness heighten'd, Amidst the blaze of jewels and of gold, Adorn a throne, and dignify dominion!
IRENE.
Why all this glare of splendid eloquence, To paint the pageantries of guilty state?
Must I, for these, renounce the hope of heav'n, Immortal crowns, and fulness of enjoyment?
MAHOMET.
Vain raptures all--For your inferiour natures, Form'd to delight, and happy by delighting, Heav'n has reserv'd no future paradise, But bids you rove the paths of bliss, secure Of total death, and careless of hereafter; While heaven's high minister, whose awful volume Records each act, each thought of sov'reign man, Surveys your plays with inattentive glance, And leaves the lovely trifler unregarded.
IRENE.
Why then has nature's vain munificence Profusely pour'd her bounties upon woman?
Whence, then, those charms thy tongue has deign'd to flatter, That air resistless, and enchanting blush, Unless the beauteous fabrick was design'd A habitation for a fairer soul?
MAHOMET.
Too high, bright maid, thou rat'st exteriour grace: Not always do the fairest flow'rs diffuse The richest odours, nor the speckled sh.e.l.ls Conceal the gem; let female arrogance Observe the feather'd wand'rers of the sky; With purple varied, and bedrop'd with gold, They prune the wing, and spread the glossy plumes, Ordain'd, like you, to flutter and to s.h.i.+ne, And cheer the weary pa.s.senger with musick.
IRENE.
Mean as we are, this tyrant of the world Implores our smiles, and trembles at our feet.
Whence flow the hopes and fears, despair and rapture, Whence all the bliss and agonies of love?
MAHOMET.
Why, when the balm of sleep descends on man, Do gay delusions, wand'ring o'er the brain, Sooth the delighted soul with empty bliss?
To want, give affluence? and to slav'ry, freedom?
Such are love's joys, the lenitives of life, A fancy'd treasure, and a waking dream.
IRENE.
Then let me once, in honour of our s.e.x, a.s.sume the boastful arrogance of man.
Th' attractive softness, and th' endearing smile, And pow'rful glance, 'tis granted, are our own; Nor has impartial nature's frugal hand Exhausted all her n.o.bler gifts on you.
Do not we share the comprehensive thought, Th' enlivening wit, the penetrating reason?
Beats not the female breast with gen'rous pa.s.sions, The thirst of empire, and the love of glory?
MAHOMET.
Ill.u.s.trious maid, new wonders fix me thine; Thy soul completes the triumphs of thy face.
I thought (forgive, my fair,) the n.o.blest aim, The strongest effort of a female soul, Was but to choose the graces of the day; To tune the tongue, to teach the eyes to roll, Dispose the colours of the flowing robe, And add new roses to the faded cheek.
Will it not charm a mind, like thine, exalted, To s.h.i.+ne, the G.o.ddess of applauding nations; To scatter happiness and plenty round thee, To bid the prostrate captive rise and live, To see new cities tow'r, at thy command, And blasted kingdoms flourish, at thy smile?
IRENE.
Charm'd with the thought of blessing human kind, Too calm I listen to the flatt'ring sounds.
MAHOMET.
O! seize the power to bless--Irene's nod Shall break the fetters of the groaning Christian; Greece, in her lovely patroness secure, Shall mourn no more her plunder'd palaces.
IRENE.
Forbear--O! do not urge me to my ruin!
MAHOMET.
To state and pow'r I court thee, not to ruin: Smile on my wishes, and command the globe.
Security shall spread her s.h.i.+eld before thee, And love infold thee with his downy wings.
If greatness please thee, mount th' imperial seat; If pleasure charm thee, view this soft retreat; Here ev'ry warbler of the sky shall sing; Here ev'ry fragrance breathe of ev'ry spring: To deck these bow'rs each region shall combine, And e'en our prophet's gardens envy thine: Empire and love shall share the blissful day, And varied life steal, unperceiv'd, away.
[_Exeunt_.
ACT III.--SCENE I.
CALI, ABDALLA.
[CALI _enters, with a discontented air; to him enters_ ABDALLA.]
CALI.
Is this the fierce conspirator, Abdalla?
Is this the restless diligence of treason?
Where hast thou linger'd, while th' inc.u.mber'd hours Fly, lab'ring with the fate of future nations, And hungry slaughter scents imperial blood?
ABDALLA.
Important cares detain'd me from your counsels.
CALI.
Some petty pa.s.sion! some domestick trifle!
Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales Part 16
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Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales Part 16 summary
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