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Now summon all thy fortitude, my soul,

Nor, though thy blood cry for him, spare the guilty!

[Aloud.] Well, stranger, speak; but first unveil thyself,
For Saladin must view the form that fronts him.

Malek Adhel-Behold it, then!
Saladin-I see a traitor's visage.
Malek Adhel-A brother's!
Saladin-No!

Saladin owns no kindred with a villain.

Malek Adhel-O, patience, Heaven! Had any tongue but thin Uttered that word, it ne'er should speak another.

Saladin-And why not now? Can this heart be more pierced By Malek Adhel's sword than by his deeds? O, thou hast made a desert of this bosom ! For open candor, planted sly disguise; For confidence, suspicion; and the glow Of generous friendship, tenderness and love, Forever banished! Whither can I turn, When he, by blood, by gratitude, by faith, By every tie, bound to support, forsakes me? Who, who can stand, when Malek Adhel falls? Henceforth I turn me from the sweets of love, The smiles of friendship; and this glorious world, In which all find some heart to rest upon, Shall be to Saladin a cheerless void,His brother has betrayed him!

Malek Adhel-Thou art softened;

I am thy brother, then; but late thou saidst,-~
My tongue can never utter the base title!
Saladin-Was it traitor? True!

Thou hast betrayed me in my fondest hopes ¦
Villain? 'Tis just; the title is appropriate!
Dissembler? 'Tis not written in thy face;
No, nor imprinted on that specious brow;
But on this breaking heart the name is stamped,
Forever stamped, with that of Malek Adhel!

Thinkest thou I'm softened? By Mohammed! these hands

Should crush these aching eye-balls, ere a tear

Fall from them at thy fate! O monster, monster!

The brute that tears the infant from its nurse

Is excellent to thee; for in his form

The impulse of his nature may be read;
But thou, so beautiful, so proud, so noble,
O what a wretch art thou! O! can a term
In all the various tongues of man be found
To match thy infamy?

Malek Adhel-Go on! go on!

'Tis but a little time to hear thee, Saladin; And, bursting at thy feet, this heart will prove Its penitence, at least.

Saladin-That were an end

Too noble for a traitor! The bowstring is

A more appropriate finish! Thou shalt die !

Malek Adhel-And death were welcome at another's mandate ! What, what have I to live for? Be it so,

If that in all thy armies can be found
An executing hand.

Saladin-O, doubt it not!

They're eager for the office. Perfidy,

So black as thine, effaces from their minds

All memory of thy former excellence.

Malek Adhel-Defer not, then, their wishes. Saladin,

If e'er this form was joyful to thy sight,

This voice seemed grateful to thine ear, accede

To my last prayer :-0, lengthen not this scene,
To which the agonies of death were pleasing!
Let me die speedily!

Saladin-This very hour!

[Aside]—For, O, the more I look upon that face,
The more I hear the accents of that voice,
The monarch softens, and the judge is lost
In all the brother's weakness; yet such guilt,-
Such vile ingratitude, -it calls for vengeance;

And vengeance it shall have! What, ho! who waits there?

Attendant-Did your Highness call?
Saladin-Assemble quickly

My forces in the court. Tell them they come
To view the death of yonder bosom traitor,
And, bid them mark, that he who will not spare
His brother when he errs, expects obedience,
Silent obedience, from his followers.

Malek Ahdel-Now, Saladin,

I am not

[Enter attendant.]

[Exit attendant.]

The word is given; I have nothing more
To fear from thee, my brother.
About to crave a miserable life.
Without the love, thy honor, thy esteem,
Life were a burden to me. Think not, either,
The justness of thy sentence I would question.
But one request now trembles on my tongue-
One wish still clinging round the heart; which soon
Not even that shall torture. Will it, then,

Thinkest thou, thy slumbers render quieter,
Thy waking thoughts more pleasing to reflect,

That when thy voice had doomed a brother's death,

The last request which e'er was his to utter

Thy harshness made him carry to the grave?

Saladin-Speak, then, but ask thyself if thou hast reason To look for much indulgence here.

Malek Adhel-I have not !

Yet will I ask for it. We part forever;
This is our last farewell; the king is satisfied;
The judge has spoke the irrevocable sentence.
None sees, none hears, save that Omniscient Power,
Which, trust me, will not frown to look upon
Two brothers part like such. When, in the face
Of forces once my own, I'm led to death,
Then be thine eye unmoistened; let thy voice
Then speak my doom untrembling; then,
Unmoved, behold this stiff and blackened corse.
But now I ask,-nay, turn not, Saladin !—
I ask one single pressure of thy hand;
From that stern eye, one solitary tear,—

O, torturing recollection !-one kind word

From the loved tongue which once breathed naught but kindness.
Still silent? Brother! friend! beloved companion

—are they forgotten ?—

Of all my youthful sports!—

Strike me with deafness, make me blind, O Heaven!
Let me not see this unforgiving man

Smile at my agonies! nor hear that voice

Pronounce my doom, which would not say one word,
One little word, whose cherished memory

Would soothe the struggles of departing life!
Yet, yet thou wilt! O, turn thee, Saladin !

Look on my face,-thou canst not spurn me then;
Look on the once-loved face of Malek Adhel

For the last time, and call him—

Saladin (Seizing his hand,-Brother! brother!

Malek Adhel--(Breaking away)-Now call thy followers; Death has not now

A single pang in store.

Proceed! I'm ready.

Saladin-O, art thou ready to forgive, my brother?

To pardon him who found one single error,

One little failing, 'mid a splendid throng

Of glorious qualities—

Malek Adhel-O, stay thee, Saladin !

I did not ask for life. I only wished
To carry thy forgiveness to the grave.
No, Emperor, the loss of Cesarea
Cries loudly for the blood of Malek Adhel.
Thy soldiers, too, demand that he who lost
What cost them many a weary hour to gain,
Should expiate his offences with his life.
Lo! even now they crowd to view my death,
Thy just impartiality. I go,

Pleased by my fate to add one other leaf
To thy proud wreath of glory.

Saladin-Thou shalt not.

[Going.] [Enter attendant.]

Attendant-My lord, the troops assembled by your order

Tumultuous throng the courts.

The prince's death

Not one of them but vows he will not suffer.
The mutes have fled; the very guards rebel.
Nor think I, in this city's spacious round,
Can e'er be found a hand to do the office.

Malek Adhel-O faithful friends!-( To attendant)—Thine shalt,
Attendant-Mine? Never!

The other first shall lop it from the body.

Saladin-They teach the Emperor his duty well.

Tell them he thanks them for it.

Tell them, too,

That ere their opposition reached our ears,

Saladin had forgiven Malek Adhel.

Attendant-O joyful news!

I haste to gladden many a gallant heart,
And dry the tear on many a hardy cheek,
Unused to such a visitor.

Saladin These men, the meanest in society,
The outcasts of the earth,-by war, by nature,
Hardened, and rendered callous,-these who claim
No kindred with thee,-who have never heard
The accents of affection from thy lips,-
O, these can cast aside their vowed allegiance,
Throw off their long obedience, risk their lives,
To save thee from destruction. While I,
I, who cannot, in all my memory,

Call back one danger which thou hast not shared,
One day of grief, one night of revelry,

Which thy resistless kindness hath not soothed,

Or thy gay smile and converse rendered sweeter,—

I, who have thrice in the ensanguined field,

When death seemed certain, only uttered-" Brother!"
And seen that form, like lightning, rush between

Saladin and his foes, and that brave breast

Dauntless exposed to many a furious blow

Intended for my own,-I could forget

That 't was to thee I owed the very breath

Which sentenced thee to perish! O, 't is shameful!
Thou canst not pardon me!

Malek Adhel-By these tears, I can!

O brother! from this very hour, a new,

A glorious life commences! I am all thine!
Again the day of gladness or of anguish
Shall Malek Adhel share; and oft again
May this sword fence thee in the bloody field.
Henceforth, Saladin,

My heart, my soul, my sword, are thine forever!

[Exit.]

THE HARVEST OF RUM.

[See Apostrophe to Cold Water for an incident in the life of the eloquent Paul Denton, author of the following stirring lines.]

Streaming down the ages, blighting the rosebuds, shriveling the grasses, scorching the heart and blistering the soul, has come a lurid tongue of flame which, heated by the madness of hell, has hissed out the terrors of death and dropped over the earth a sea of unutterable woe. In the darkness of midnight it has gathered intensity of brightness, and glared about the hearthstones, wet with the weeping of wives, mothers, and children, and bronzed the beauty of earth with the horrid cast of hell. Twisting around the altar of the church, it has wreathed the sweetest flowers that ever attempted to bloom for the adornment of heaven, and has fed death from the very waters of life; at the very door of heaven itself it has glowed with appalling madness and been almost an impassable wall of flame between misery and bliss.

Dripping burning drops of agony into the tenderest depths of writhing souls, they have wailed and wept and hissed unutterable despair, and pleaded with God to blot them from existence forever. This blighting, glowing, burning, damning curse of the world is the demon Intemperance. Language has never been made that can depict it in all its hideousness. Look on that stack of skeletons that rears its ghastly form-an insult to God-high in the clouds, and shapes the whistling winds into an utterance of withering denunciation of the fiery monster that gnawed and scalded and burned and tore the mangled, bleeding flesh from those bones and tossed them into that revolting pile!

Come, ye writhing, pleading, suffering souls that were robbed of heaven by this sparkling tempter, and cast the black shadow of your wretchedness upon the faces of the living! Oh, graves, give up your bloated, festering millions, and stretch them, in all their rum-scorched ghastliness, over the plains and mountain-tops! Come forth, ye torn, haggard, and bleeding souls, from the time of Noah until to-night! Hold up your bony, withered, skeleton

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