SCENE II.The inside of a Prison.Several Prisoners dispersed in different situations.EnterKeeperandHaswellwith lights.
SCENE II.The inside of a Prison.Several Prisoners dispersed in different situations.EnterKeeperandHaswellwith lights.
Keep.This way, Sir—the prisons this way are more extensive still—you seem to feel for these unthinking men—but they are a set of unruly people, whom no severity can make such as they ought to be.
Has.And wou'd not gentleness, or mercy, do you think, reclaim them?
Keep.That I can't say—we never try those means in this part of the world—that man yonder, suspected of disaffection, is sentenced to be here for life, unless his friends can lay down a large sum by way of penalty, which he finds they cannot do, and he is turned melancholy.
Has.[After a pause.] Who is that?[To another.
Keep.He has been try'd for heading an insurrection, and acquitted.
Has.What keeps him here?
Keep.Fees due to the Court—a debt contracted while he proved his innocence.
Has.Lead on, my friend—let us go to some other part.
[Putting his hand to his eyes.
Keep.In this ward, we are going to, are the prisoners, who by some small reserve—some little secreted stock when they arrived—or by the bounty of some friend who visit them——or suchlike fortunate circumstance, are in a less dismal place.
Has.Lead on.
Keep.But stop—put on this cloak, for, before we arrive at the place I mention, we must pass a damp vault, which to those who are not used to it—[Haswellputs on the cloak]—or will you postpone your visit?
Has.No—go on.
Keep.Alas! who wou'd suppose you had been used to see such places!—you look concerned—vext to see the people suffer—I wonder you shou'd come, when you seem to think so much about them.
Has.Oh! that, that is the very reason.
[Exit, following the Keeper.[Zedan,a tawny Indian Prisoner, follows them, stealingout, as if intent on something.]
Two Prisoners walk slowly down the stage.
Two Prisoners walk slowly down the stage.
1st Pris.Who is this man?
2d Pris.From Britain—I have seen him once before.
1st Pris.He looks pale—he has no heart.
2d Pris.I believe, a pretty large one.
Re-enterZedan.
Re-enterZedan.
Zed.Brother, a word with you. [To the 1st Prisoner, the other retires.] As the stranger and our keeper passed by the passage, a noxious vapour put out the light, and as they groped along I purloinedthisfrom the stranger—[Shews a pocket-book] see it contains two notes will pay our ransom.
[Shewing the notes.
1st Pris.A treasure—our certain ransom!
Zed.Liberty! our wives, our children, and our friends, will these papers purchase.
1st Pris.What a bribe! our keeper may rejoice too.
Zed.And then the pleasure it will be to hear the stranger fret, and complain for his loss!—O, how my heart loves to see sorrow!—Misery such as I have known, on men who spurn me—who treat me as if (in my own Island) I had no friends that loved me—no servants that paid me honour—no children that revered me—who forget I am a husband—a father—nay, aman.—
1st Pris.Conceal your thoughts—conceal your treasure too—or the Briton's complaint—
Zed.Will be in vain—our keeper will conclude the bribe must come to him, at last—and therefore make no great search for it—here, in the corner of my belt [Puts up the pocket-book] 'twill be secure—Come this way, and let us indulge our pleasant prospect.
[They retire, and the scene closes.
SCENE III.Another part of the Prison.A kind of sopha with an old man sleeping upon it—Elvirussitting attentively by him.EnterKeeperandHaswell.
SCENE III.Another part of the Prison.A kind of sopha with an old man sleeping upon it—Elvirussitting attentively by him.EnterKeeperandHaswell.
Keep.That young man, you see there, watching his aged father as he sleeps, by the help of fees gains his admission—and he never quits the place, except to go and purchase cordials for the old man, who, (though healthy and strong when he first became a prisoner) is now become ill and languid.
Has.Are they from Europe?
Keep.No—but descended from Europeans—see how the youth holds his father's hand!—I have sometimes caught him bathing it with tears.
Has.I'll speak to the young man.
[Going to him.
Keep.He will speak as soon as he sees me—he has sent a petition to the Sultan about his father, and never fails to inquire if a reply is come. [They approach—Elvirusstarts, and comes forward]
Elv.[ToHaswell] Sir, do you come from the Court? has the Sultan received my humble supplication? Can you tell?—softly—let not my father hear you speak.
Has.I come but as a stranger, to see the prison.
Elv.No answer yet, keeper?
Keep.No—I told you it was in vain to write—they never read petitions sent from prisons—their hearts are hardened to such worn-out tales of sorrow.
[Elvirusturns towards his Father and weeps.
Has.Pardon me, Sir—but what is the request you are thus denied?
Elv.Behold my father! but three months has he been confined here; and yet—unless he breathes a purer air—O, ifyouhave influence at Court, Sir, pray represent what passes in this dreary prison—what passes in my heart.——My supplication is to remain a prisoner here, while my father, released, shall be permitted to retire to humble life; and never more take arms in a cause the Sultan may suspect—which engagement broken,my lifeshall be the forfeit.—Or if the Sultan wou'd allow me to serve him as a soldier—
Has.You would fight against the party your father fought for?
Elv.[Starting.] No—but in the forests—or on the desert sands—amongst those slaves who are sent to battle with the wild Indians—there I wou'd go—and earn the boon I ask——or in the mines—
Has.Give me your name—I will, at least, present your suit—and, perhaps—
Elv.Sir! do you think it is likely? Joyful hearing!
Has.Nay, be not too hasty in your hopes—I cannotanswerfor my success. [Repeats] "Your father humbly implores to be released from prison—and, in his stead,youtake his chains—or, for the Sultan's service, fight as a slave, or dig in his mines?"
Elv.Exactly, Sir—that is the petition—I thank you, Sir.
Keep.You don't know, young man, what itisto dig in mines—or fight against foes, who make their prisoners die by unheard-of tortures.
Elv.Youdo not know, Sir, what itis,—to see a parent suffer.
Has.[Writing] Your name, Sir?
Elv.Elvirus Casimir.—
Has.Your father's?
Elv.The same—one who followed agriculture in the fields of Symria—but, induced by the call of freedom—
Has.How? have a care.
Elv.No—his son, by the call of nature, supplicates his freedom.
Keep.The rebel, you find, breaks out.
Elv.[Aside to the Keeper.] Silence—silence! he forgives it—don't remind him of it—don't undo my hopes.
Has.I will serve you if I can.
Elv.And I will merit it—indeed I will—you shall not complain of me—I will be—
Has.Retire—I trust you. [Elvirusbows lowly, and retires.]
Keep.Yonder cell contains a female prisoner.
Has.A female prisoner!
Keep.Without a friend or comforter, she has existed there these many years—nearly fifteen.
Has.Is it possible!
Keep.Wou'd you wish to see her?
Has.If it won't give her pain.
Keep.At least, she'll not resent it—for she seldom complains, except in moans to herself—[Goes to the cell.] Lady, here is one come to visit all the prisoners—please to appear before him.
Has.I thank you—you speak with reverence and respect to her.
Keep.She has been of some note, though now so totally unfriended—at least, wethinkshe has, from her gentle manners; and our governor is in the daily expectation of some liberal ransom for her, which makes her imprisonment without a hope of release, till that day arrives—[Going to the cell]—Lend me your hand—you are weak. [He leads her from the cell—she appears faint—and as if the light affected her eyes—Haswellpulls off his hat, and, after a pause—
Has.I fear you are not in health, Lady?——
[She looks at him solemnly for some time.
Keep.Speak—Madam, speak.
Pris.No—not very well.[Faintingly.
Has.Where are your friends? When do you expect your ransom?
Pris.[Shaking her head.] Never.
Keep.She persists to say so; thinking by that declaration, we shall release herwithouta ransom.
Has.Is that your motive?
Pris.I know no motive for a falsehood.
Has.I was to blame—pardon me.
Keep.Your answers are somewhat prouder than usual.
[He retires up the stage.
Pris.They are.—[ToHaswell] Forgive me—I am mild with all of these—but from a countenance like yours—I could not bear reproach.
Has.You flatter me.
Pris.Alas! Sir, and what have I to hope from such a meaness?—You do not come to ransom me.
Has.Perhaps I do.
Pris.Oh! do not say so—unless—unless—I am not to be deceived—pardon in your turn this suspicion—but when I have so much to hope for—when the sun, the air, fields, woods, and all that wonderous world, wherein I have been so happy, is in prospect; forgive me, if the vast hope makes me fear.
Has.Unless your ransom is fixed at something beyond my power to give, Iwillrelease you.
Pris.Release me! Benevolent!
Has.How shall I mark you down in my petition? [Takes out his book.] what name?
Pris.'Tis almost blotted from my memory.[Weeping.
Keep.It is of little note—a female prisoner, taken with the rebel party, and in these cells confined for fifteen years.
Pris.During which time I have demeaned myself with all humility to my governors—neither have I distracted my fellow prisoners with a complaint that might recall to their memory their own unhappy fate—I have been obedient, patient; and cherished hope to chear me with vain dreams, while despair possess'd my reason.
Has.Retire—I will present the picture you have given.
Pris.Succeed too—or, never let me see you more—
[She goes up the stage.
Has.You never shall.
Pris.[Returns] Or, if you shou'd miscarry in your views [for who forms plans that do not sometimes fail?] I will not reproach you even tomyself——no—nor will I suffermuchfrom the disappointment—merely that you may not have, what I suffer, to account for.
[Exit to her cell.
Has.Excellent mind!
Keep.In this cell—
[Going to another.
Has.No—take me away—I have enough to do—I dare not see more at present.—[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.The former Prison Scene.EnterZedan.
SCENE IV.The former Prison Scene.EnterZedan.
Zed.They are coming—I'll stand here in his sight, that, shou'd he miss what I have taken, he'll not suspect me, but suppose it is one who has hid himself.
EnterKeeperandHaswell.
EnterKeeperandHaswell.
Keep.[ToZedan] What makes you here?—still moping by yourself, and lamenting for your family?—[ToHaswell] that man, the most ferocious I ever met with—laments, sometimes even with tears, the separation from his wife and children.
Has.[Going to him] I am sorry for you, friend; [Zedanlooks sullen and morose.] I pity you.
Keep.Yes—he had a pleasant hamlet on the neighbouring island—plenty of fruits—clear springs—and wholesome roots—and now complains bitterly of his repasts—sour rice, and muddy water.[Exit Keeper.
Has.Poor man! bear your sorrows nobly—and as we are alone—no miserable eye to grudge the favour—[Looking round] take this trifle—[Gives money] it will at least make your meals better for a few short weeks—till Heaven may please to favour you with a less sharp remembrance of the happiness you have lost—Farewell. [Going.] [Zedancatches hold of him, and taking the pocket-book from his belt, puts it intoHaswell's hand.]
Has.What's this?
Zed.I meant to gain my liberty with it—but I will not vex you.
Has.How came you by it?
Zed.Stole it—and wou'd have stabb'd you too, had you been alone—but I am glad I did not—Oh! I am glad I did not.
Has.You like me then?
Zed.[Shakes his head and holds his heart.] 'Tis something that I never felt before—it makes me like not only you, but all the world besides—the love of my family was confined to them alone; but this makes me feel I could love even my enemies.
Has.Oh, nature! grateful! mild! gentle! and forgiving!—worst of tyrants they who, by hard usage, drive you to be cruel!
EnterKeeper.
EnterKeeper.
Keep.The lights are ready, Sir, through the dark passage—[ToZedan.] Go to your fellows.
Has.[ToZedan.] Farewell—we will meet again.
[Zedanexit on one side, HaswellandKeeperexeunt on the other.
SCENE I.An Apartment at SirLuke Tremor's.Enter SirLukeandAurelia.
SCENE I.An Apartment at SirLuke Tremor's.Enter SirLukeandAurelia.
Sir Luke.Why, then Aurelia, (though I never mention'd it to my Lady Tremor) my friend wrote me word, he had reason to suppose your affections were improperly fixed upon a young gentleman in that neighbourhood; and this was his reason for wishing you to leave that place to come hither—and this continual dejection convinces me my friend was not mistaken—answer me—can you say he was?
Aur.Why, then, Sir Luke, candidly to confess—
Sir Luke.Nay, no tears—why in tears? for a husband? be comforted—we'll get you one ere long, I warrant.
Aur.Dear, Sir Luke, how can you imagine I am in tears because I have not a husband, while you see Lady Tremor every day in tears for the very opposite cause?
Sir Luke.No matter—women like a husband through pride—and I have known a woman marry from that very motive, even a man she has been ashamed of.
Aur.Why, then I dare say, poor Lady Tremor married from pride.
Sir Luke.Yes;—and I'll let her know pride is painful.
Aur.But, Sir, her Ladyship's philosophy—
Sir Luke.She has no philosophy.
Enter LadyTremorandTwineall.
Enter LadyTremorandTwineall.
Sir Luke.Where is his Lordship? What have you done with him?
Lady.He's speaking a word to Mr. Meanright about his passport to England.—Did you mean me, Sir Luke, that had no philosophy? I protest, I have a great deal.
Sir Luke.When? where did you shew it?
Lady.Why, when the servant at my Lady Grissel's threw a whole urn of boiling water upon your legs, did I give any proofs of female weakness? did I faint, scream, or even shed a tear?
Sir Luke.No—no—very true—and while I lay sprawling on the carpet, I could see you fanning and holding the smelling bottle to the Lady of the house, begging her not to make herself uneasy, "for that the accident was of no manner of consequence."
Aur.Dear Sir, don't be angry;—I am sure her Ladyship spoke as she thought.
Sir Luke.I suppose she did, Miss.
Aur.I mean—she thought the accident might be easily got the better of—She thought you might be easily recovered.
Lady.No, indeed, I did not—but I thought Sir Luke had frequently charged me with the want of patience; and that moment, the very thing in the world I cou'd have wished, happened—on purpose to give me an opportunity to prove his accusation false.
Sir Luke.Very well, Madam—but did not the whole company cry shame on your behaviour? did not they say, it was not the conduct of a wife?
Lady.Only our particular acquaintance cou'd say so—for the rest of the company, I am sure, did not take me to be your wife—thank Heaven, our appearances never betray that secret—do you think we look like the same flesh and blood?
Sir Luke.That day, in particular, we did not—for I remember you had been no less than three hours at your toilet.
Aur.And, indeed, Sir Luke, if you were to use milk of roses, and several other little things of that kind, you can't think how much more like a fine gentleman you wou'd look.—Such things as those make, almost, all the difference there is between you and such a gentleman as Mr. Twineall.
Twi.No, pardon me, Madam—a face likeminemay use those things—but in Sir Luke's, they wou'd entirely destroy that fine martial appearance—[SirLukelooks confounded.] which women as well as men admire—for, as valour is the first ornament ofoursex——
Lady.What are you saying, Mr. Twineall? [Aside.] I'll keep him on this subject if I can.
Twi.I was going to observe, Madam—that the reputation of a General—which puts me in mind, Sir Luke, of an account I read of a battle—[He crosses over to SirLuke,who turns up the Stage in the utmost confusion, and steals out of the room.]
Lady.Well, Sir—go on—go on—you were going to introduce—
Twi.A battle, Madam—but, Sir Luke is gone!
Lady.Never mind that, Sir—he generally runs away on these occasions.
Sir Luke.[Coming back.] What were you saying, Aurelia, about a husband?
Lady.She did not speak.
Sir Luke.To be sure, Ladies in India do get husbands very quick.
Twi.Not always—I am told, Sir Luke——Women of family, [fixing his eyes stedfastly on LadyTremor.] indeed, may soon enter into the matrimonial state—but the rich men in India, we are told in England, are grown lately very particular with whom they marry, and there is not a man of any repute that will now look upon a woman as a wife, unless she is descended from a good family. [Looking at LadyTremor,who walks up the Stage and steals off, just as SirLukehad done before.
Sir Luke.I am very sorry—very sorry to say, Mr. Twineall, that has not been always the case.
Twi.Then I am very sorry too, Sir Luke; for it is as much impossible that a woman, who is not born of a good family, can be—
[LadyTremorreturns.
Sir Luke.That is just what I say—theycannotbe—
Lady.Sir Luke, let me tell you—
Sir Luke.It does not signifytelling, my dear,—you haveprovedit.
Lady.[ToTwineall.] Sir, let me tellyou—
Twi.O! O! my dear Madam, 'tis all in vain—there is no such thing—it can't be—there is no pleading against conviction—a person of low birth must, in every particular, be a terrible creature.
Sir Luke.[Going to her.] A terrible creature! a terrible creature!
Lady.Here comes my Lord Flint—I'll appeal to him.
Enter LordFlint.
Enter LordFlint.
Sir Luke.[Going to him.] My Lord, I was saying, as proof that our great Sultan, who now fills this throne, is no impostor, (as the rebel party wou'd insinuate) no low-born man, but of the Royal Stock; his conduct palpably evinces—for, had he not been nobly born, we shou'd have beheld the Plebeian bursting forth upon all occasions [Looking at LadyTremor] and then, Heaven help all those who had had any dealings with him!
Lady.Provoking!
[Goes up the stage.
Lord.Sir Luke, is there a doubt of the Emperor's birth and title? he is the real Sultan, depend upon it—it surprises me to hear you talk with the smallest uncertainty.
Twi.O, Sir Luke, I wonder at it too, [Aside to LordFlint.] and yet, damn me, my Lord, if I have not my doubts.
[LordFlintstarts.
Sir Luke. I, my Lord? far be it from me! I was only saying what other people said; for my partInever harboured a doubt of the kind.—[Aside.] My head begins to nod, only for that word—pray Heaven, I may die with it on!—I shou'd not like to lose my head—nor shou'd I like to die by a bullet—nor by a small sword—and a cannon ball wou'd be as disagreeable, as any thing, I know—it is very odd—but I never yet could make up my mind, in what manner I shou'd like to go out of the world. [During this speech.Twineallis paying court to LordFlint;they come forward and SirLukeretires.
Lord.Your temerity astonishes me!
Twi.I must own, my Lord, I feel somewhat aukward in saying it to your Lordship—but my own heart—my own conscience—my own sentiments—theyaremy own—and they are dear to me.—And so it is—the Sultan does not appear to be [With significance.] that great man some people think him.
Lord.Sir, you astonish me—pray what is your name? I have forgotten it.
Twi.Twineall, my Lord—the honourable Henry Twineall—your Lordship does me great honour to ask—arrived this morning from England, as your Lordship may remember—in the ship Mercury, my Lord—and all the officers on board speaking with the highest admiration and warmest terms of your Lordship's official character.
Lord.Why, then, Mr. Twineall, I am very sorry—
Twi.And so am I, my Lord, that your sentiments and mine shou'd so far disagree, as Iknowthey do.—I am not unacquainted with your firm adherence to the Emperor—but I am unused to disguise my thoughts—I cou'd not, if I wou'd—I have no little views—no sinister motives—no plots—no intrigues—no schemes of preferment,—and I verily believe that if a large scymitar was now directed at my head—or a large pension directed to my pocket—(in the first case at least) I shou'd speak my mind.
Lord.[Aside.] A dangerous young man this! and I may make something of the discovery.
Twi.[Aside.] It tickles him to the soul, I find.—My Lord, now I begin to be warm on the subject, I feel myself quite agitated—and, from the intelligence which I have heard, even when I was in England,—there is every reason to suppose——exm—exm—exm—[Mutters.]
Lord.What, Sir? what?
Twi.You understand me.
Lord.No, Sir—explain.
Twi.Why, then, there is every reason to suppose—some people are not what they shou'd be—pardon my thoughts, if they are wrong.
Lord.Idopardon your thoughts, with all my heart—but your words, young man, must be answer'd for [Aside.] Lady Tremor, good morning.
Twi.[Aside.] He is going to ruminate on my sentiments, I dare say.
Lady.Shall we have your Lordship's company towards the evening? Mr. Haswell will be here; if your Lordship has no objection?
Sir Luke.How do you know Mr. Haswell will be here?
Lady.Because he has just called, in his way to the Palace, and said so—and he has been telling us some very interesting stories too.
Sir Luke.Of his morning visits, I suppose—I heard Meanright say he saw him very busy.
Lady.Sir Luke and I dine out, my Lord; but we shall return early in the evening.
Lord.I will be here, without fail.—Sir Luke, a word with you if you please—[They come forward.] Mr. Twineall has taken some very improper liberties with the Sultan's name, and I must insist on making him answer for it.
Sir Luke.My Lord, you are extremely welcome [Trembling.] to do whatever your Lordship pleases with any one belonging to me, or to my house—but I hope your Lordship will pay some regard to the master of it.
Lord.O! great regard to the master—and to the mistress also.—But for that gentleman——
Sir Luke.Dowhatyour Lordship pleases.
Lord.I will—and I will make him—
Sir Luke.If your Lordship does not forget it.
Lord.I shan't forget it, Sir Luke—I have a very good memory, when I please.
Sir Luke.I don't, in the least, doubt it, my Lord—I never did doubt it.
Lord.And I can be very severe too, Sir Luke, when I please.
Sir Luke.I don't, in the least, doubt it, my Lord—I never did doubt it.
Lord.You may depend upon seeing me here in the evening—and then you shall find I have not threatened more than I mean to perform—good morning!
Sir Luke.Good morning, my Lord—I don't in the least doubt it.
[Exit LordFlint.
Lady.[Coming forward withTwineall.] For Heaven's sake, Mr. Twineall, what has birth to do with—
Twi.It has to do withevery thing, Madam—even with beauty—and I wish I may suffer death, if a woman, with all the mental and personal accomplishments of the finest creature in Europe, wou'd to me be of that value, [Snapping his fingers.] if lowly born.
Sir Luke.And I sincerely wish every man who visits me was of the same opinion.
Aur.For shame, Mr. Twineall! persons of mean birth ought not to be despised for what it was not in their power to prevent—and if it is a misfortune, you shou'd consider them only as objects of pity.
Twi.And so I do pity them—and so I do—most sincerely—poor creatures!
[Looking on LadyTremor.
Sir Luke.Aye, now he has mended it finely.
Lady.Mr. Twineall, let me tell you—
Sir Luke.My dear—Lady Tremor—[Taking her aside.] let him alone—let him go on—there is something preparing for him he little expects—so let the poor man say and do what he pleases, for the present—it won't last long—for he has offended my Lord Flint, and, I dare say his Lordship will be able, upon some account or another, to get him imprisoned for life.
Lady.Imprisoned! Why not take off his head at once?
Sir Luke.Well, my dear—I am sure I have no objection—and I dare say my Lord will have it done, to oblige you.—Egad, I must make friends with her to keep mine safe.[Aside.
Lady.Do you mean to take him out to dinner with us?
Sir Luke.Yes, my dear, if you approve of it—not else.
Lady.You are grown extremely polite.
Sir Luke.Yes, my dear, his Lordship has taught me how to be polite.—Mr. Twineall, Lady Tremor and I are going to prepare for our visit, and I will send a servant to shew you to your apartment, in order to dress, for you will favour us with your company, I hope?
Twi.Certainly, Sir Luke, I shall do myself the honour.
Lady.Come this way, Aurelia, I can't bear to look at him.
[Exit withAurelia.
Sir Luke.Nor I tothinkof him.[Exit.
Twi.If I have not settled my business in this family, I am mistaken—they seem to have but one mind about me.—Devilish clever fellow, egad!—I am the man to send into the world—such a volatile, good-looking scoundrel too! No one suspects me——to be sure I am under some few obligations to my friend for letting me into the different characters of the family—and yet I don't know whether I am obliged to him or not—for if he had not made me acquainted with them—I shou'd soon have had the skill to find them out myself.—No; I will not think myself under any obligation to him—it is devilish inconvenient for a gentleman to be under an obligation.[Exit.
SCENE II.The Palace. The Sultan discoveredwith guards and officers attending.Haswellis conducted in by an officer.
SCENE II.The Palace. The Sultan discoveredwith guards and officers attending.Haswellis conducted in by an officer.
Sul.Sir, you are summoned to receive our thanks, for the troops restored to health by your kind prescriptions.—Ask a reward adequate to your services.
Has.Sultan—the reward I ask, is to preserve more of your people still.
Sul.How more? my subjects are in health—no contagion reigns amongst them.
Has.The prisoner is your subject—there misery—more contagious than disease, preys on the lives of hundreds—sentenced but to confinement, their doom is death.—Immured in damp and dreary vaults, they daily perish—and who can tell but that amongst the many hapless sufferers, there may be hearts, bent down with penitence to Heaven and you, for every slight offence—there may be some amongst the wretched multitude, even innocent victims.—Let me seek them out—let me save them, and you.
Sul.Amazement! retract your application—curb this weak pity; and receive our thanks.
Has.Curb my pity?—and what can I receive in recompence for that soft bond, which links me to the wretched?—and while it sooths their sorrow repays me more, than all the gifts or homage of an empire.——But if repugnant to your plan of government—not in the name of pity—but of justice.
Sul.Justice!——
Has.The justice which forbids all but the worst of criminals to be denied that wholesome air the very brute creation freely takes; at least allow themthat.
Sul.Consider, Sir, for whom you plead—for men, (if not base culprits) yet so misled, so depraved, they are offensive to our state, and deserve none of its blessings.
Has.If not upon the undeserving,—if not upon the hapless wanderer from the paths of rectitude,—where shall the sun diffuse his light, or the clouds distil their dew? Where shall spring breathe fragrance, or autumn pour its plenty?
Sul.Sir, your sentiments, but much more your character, excite my curiosity. They tell me, in our camps, you visited each sick man's bed,—administered yourself the healing draught,—encouraged our savages with the hope of life, or pointed out theirbetterhope in death.——The widow speaks your charities—the orphan lisps your bounties—and the rough Indian melts in tears to bless you.——I wish to askwhyyou have done all this?—What is it prompts you thus to befriend the wretched and forlorn?
Has.In vain for me to explain—the time it wou'd take to tell you why I act thus——
Sul.Send it in writing then.
Has.Nay, if you willread, I'll send a book, in which isalreadywritten why I act thus.
Sul.What book?—What is it called?
Has."The Christian Doctrine." [Haswellbows here with the utmost reverence.] There you will find all I have done was but my duty.
Sul.[To the Guards.] Retire, and leave me alone with the stranger. [All retire exceptHaswelland theSultan.They come forward.]
Sul.Your words recall reflections that distract me; nor can I bear the pressure on my mind without confessing—I am a Christian.
Has.A Christian!—What makes you thus assume the apostate?
Sul.Misery, and despair.
Has.What made you a Christian?
Sul.My Arabella,—a lovely European, sent hither in her youth, by her mercenary parents, to sell herself to the prince of all these territories. But 'twas my happy lot, in humble life, to win her love, snatch her from his expecting arms, and bear her far away—where, in peaceful solitude we lived, till, in the heat of the rebellion against the late Sultan, I was forced from my happy home to bear a part.—I chose the imputed rebels side, and fought for the young aspirer.—An arrow, in the midst of the engagement, pierced his heart; and his officers, alarmed at the terror this stroke of fate might cause amongst their troops, urged me (as I bore his likeness) to counterfeit it farther, and shew myself to the soldiers as their king recovered. I yielded to their suit, because it gave me ample power to avenge the loss of my Arabella, who had been taken from her home by the merciless foe, and barbarously murdered.
Has.Murdered!
Sul.I learnt so—and my fruitless search to find her since has confirmed the intelligence.—Frantic for her loss, I joyfully embraced a scheme which promised vengeance on the enemy—it prospered,—and I revenged my wrongs and her's, with such unsparing justice on the foe, that even the men who made me what I was, trembled to reveal their imposition; and they find it still their interest to continue it.
Has.Amazement!
Sul.Nay, they fill my prisons every day with wretches, that dare whisper I am not the real Sultan, but a stranger. The secret, therefore, I myself safely relate in private: the danger is to him who speaks it again; and, with this caution, I trust, it is safe with you.
Has.It was, without that caution.—Now hear me.——Involved in deeds, in cruelties, which your better thoughts revolt at, the meanest wretch your camps or prisons hold, claims not half the compassionyouhave excited. Permit me, then, to be your comforter, as I have been theirs.
Sul.Impossible!
Has.In the most fatal symptoms I have undertaken the body's cure. The mind's disease, perhaps, I'm not less a stranger to—Oh! trust the noble patient to my care.
Sul.How will you begin?
Has.Lead you to behold the wretched in their misery, and then shew you yourself in their deliverer.——I have your promise for a boon—'tis this.—Give me the liberty of six that I shall name, now in confinement, and be yourself a witness of their enlargement.—See joy lighted in the countenance where sorrow still has left its rough remains.—Behold the tear of rapture chase away that of anguish—hear the faultering voice, long used to lamentation, in broken accents, utter thanks and blessings.—Behold this scene, and if you find the medicine ineffectual, dishonour your physician.
Sul.I will behold it.
Has.Come, then, to the governor's house this very night—into that council room so often perverted to the use of the torture; and there, unknown to them as their king, you shall be witness to all the grateful heart can dictate, and enjoy all that benevolence can taste.
Sul.I will meet you there.
Has.In the evening?
Sul.At ten precisely.—Guards, conduct the stranger from the palace.[Exit Sultan.
Has.Thus far advanced, what changes may not be hoped for?[Exit.
SCENE I.An Apartment at SirLuke's.EnterElvirusandAurelia.
SCENE I.An Apartment at SirLuke's.EnterElvirusandAurelia.
Elvirus.Oh my Aurelia! since the time I first saw you—since you left the pleasant spot, where I first beheld you; what distress, what anguish have we known?
Aur.Your family?
Elv.Yes—and that caused the silence which I hope you have lamented.—I could not wound you with the recital of our misfortunes—and now, only with the sad idea that I shall never see you more, I am come to take my leave.
Aur.Is there a chance that we may never meet again?
Elv.There is—and I hope it too—sincerely hope and request it—to see you again, wou'd be again to behold my father pining in misery.
Aur.Explain— [A loud rapping at the door.] that is, Sir Luke, and Lady Tremor—what shall I say, shou'd they come hither? they suspect I correspond with some person in the country—who shall I say you are? upon what business can I say you are come?
Elv.To avoid all suspicion of my real situation, and to be sure to gain admittance, I put on this habit, and told the servant, when I inquired for you, I was just arrived from England—[She starts.] nay, it was but necessary I should conceal who I was in this suspicious place, or I might plunge a whole family in the imputed guilt of mine.
Aur.Good Heaven!
Elv.I feared, besides, there was no other means; no likelihood to gain admission—and what, what wou'd I not have sacrificed, rather than left you for ever without a last farewell? think on these weighty causes, and pardon the deception.
Aur.But if they should ask me—
Elv.Say, as I have done—my stay must be so short, it is impossible they shou'd detect me—for I must be back—
Aur.Where?
Elv.No matter where—I must be back before the evening—and would almost wish never to see you more—I love you, Aurelia—O, how truly! and yet there is a love more dear, more sacred still.
Aur.You torture me with suspense—Sir Luke is coming this way—what name shall I say, if he asks me?
Elv.Glanmore—I announced that name to the servant.
Aur.You tremble.
Elv.The imposition hurts me—and I feel as if I dreaded a detection, though 'tis scarce possible—Sorrows have made a coward of me—even the servant, I thought, looked at me with suspicion—and I was both confounded and enraged.
Aur.Go into this apartment; I'll follow you—there we may be safe—and do not hide the smallest circumstance which I may have to apprehend.
[Elvirusexit at a door.
Sir Luke.[Without.] Abominable! provoking! impertinent! not to be borne!
Aur.[Listening.] Thank Heaven, Sir Luke is so perplexed with some affairs of his own, he may not think of mine.—
[Exit toElvirus.