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venge myself upon thy father, for being the head of a false religion
Mor. And so you shall; I offer you his daughter for your second. But since you are so pressing, meet me under my window to-morrow night, body for body, about this hour; I'll slip down out of my lodging, and bring my father in my hand.
Ant. How, thy father!
Mor. I mean, all that's good of him; his pearls and jewels, his whole contents, his heart and soul; as much as ever I can cariy! I'll leave him his Alcoran, that's revenue enough for him; every page of it is gold and diamonds. He has the turn of an eye, a demure smile, and a godly cant, that are worth millions to him. I forgot to tell you, that I will have a slave prepared at the postern gate, with two horses ready saddled.—No more, for I fear I may be missed; and think I hear them calling for me.—If you have constancy and courage—
Ant. Never doubt it; and love in abundance, to wander with thee all the world over.
Mor. The value of twelve hundred thousand crowns in a casket!
Ant. A heavy burden, heaven knows! but we must pray for patience to support it.
Mor. Besides a willing tilt, that will venture her corps with you. Come, I know you long to have a parting blow with me; and therefore, to shew I am in charity [He kisses her.
Ant. Once more for pity, that I may keep the flavour upon my lips till we meet again.
Mor. No, frequent charities make bold beggars; and, besides, I have learned of a falconer, never to feed up a hawk when I would have him fly. That's enough; but, if you would be nibbling, here's a hand to stay your stomach. [Kissing her hand.
Ant. Thus conquered infidels, that wars may cease, Are forced to give their hands, and sign the peace. Mor. Thus Christians are outwitted by the foe; You had her in your power, and let her go. If you release my hand, the fault's not mine; You should have made me seal, as well as sign. [She runs off, he follows her to the door; then comes back again, and goes out at the other.
SCENE T.—BtNDUCARS Palace, in the Castle of Alcazar.
Bend. My future fate, the colour of my life,
Enter Haly, first Servant.
Oh Haly, thou hast held me long in pain.
All doors are shut, no servant peeps abroad;
Bend. Hence I conclude him either dead, or dying.
How has this poison lost its wonted way?
Enter Ha Met.
Well, Hamet, are our friends, the rabble, raised r From Mustapha what message?
Ham. What you wish. The streets are thicker in this noon of night, Than at the mid-day sun; a drowsy horror Sits on their eyes, like fear, not well awake; All crowd in heaps, as, at a night alarm, The bees drive out upon each others backs, To imboss their hives in clusters; all ask news; Their busy captain runs the weary round, To whisper orders; and, commanding silence, Makes not noise cease, but deafens it to murmurs. Bend. Night wastes apace; when, when will he appear!
Ham. He only waits your summons.
Bend. Haste their coming. Let secrecy and silence be enjoined In their close march. What news from the lieutenant?
Ham. I left him at the gate, firm to your interest, To admit the townsmen at their first appearance.
Bend. Thus far 'tis well: Go, hasten Mustapha.
Enter Okchan, the third Servant.
O, Orchan, did I think thy diligence Would lag behind the rest!—What from the Mufti?
Ore. I sought him round his palace; made inquiry Of all the slaves; in short, I used your name, And urged the importance home; but had for answer, That, since the shut of evening, none had seen him.
Bend. O the curst fate of all conspiracies! They move on many springs; if one but fail, The restiff machine stops. In an ill hour he's absent; Tis the first time, and sure will be the last, That e'er a Mufti was not in the way, When tumults and rebellion should be broached. Stay by me; thou art resolute and faithful; I have employment worthy of thy arm. [tValks.
Mul. Zeyd. You see me come, impatient of my hopes,
And eager as the courser for the race:
Ore. [Looking ew/r.] I see the blaze of torches from afar,
And hear the trampling of thick-beating feet;
Bend. No doubt, the emperor.
Mul. Zeyd. Doubt not my conduct; they shall be surprised. Mercy may wait without the gate one night, At mor n I'll take her in.
Bend. Here lies your way; You meet your brother there.
Mul. Zeyd. May we ne'er meet!
Bend. He comes:—Now, heart,
Enter Emperor, and Guards attending him.
Emp. What news of our affairs, and what of Derax?
Is he no more? say that, and make me happy.