So fmall a force? or why fhould Cali fly?
Or how can Cali's flight reftore our country?
Referve these questions for a safer hour.
Or hear himself, for fee the Baffa comes.
DEMETRIUS, LEONITUS, CALI BASSA.
Now fummon all thy foul, illuftrious Christian!
Awake each faculty that fleeps within thee,
The courtier's policy, the fage's firmness,
The warrior's ardour, and the patriot's zeal ;
If chafing paft events with vain pursuit,
Or wand'ring in the wilds of future being,
A fingle thought now rove, recall it home.
But can thy friend fuftain the glorious caufe,
'The cause of liberty, the cause of nations?
Obferve him closely with a statesman's eye,
Thou that haft long perus'd the draughts of nature, And know'ft the characters of vice and virtue,
Left by the hand of heav'n on human clay.
His mien is lofty, his demeanour great,
Nor fprightly folly wantons in his air,
Nor dull ferenity becalms his eyes.
Such had I trufted once as foon as feen,
But cautious age fufpects the flatt'ring form,
And only credits what experience tells.
Has filence prefs'd her feal upon his lips?
Does adamantine faith invest his heart?
Will he not bend beneath a tyrant's frown?
Will he not melt before ambition's fire?
Will he not foften in a friend's embrace ?
Or flow diffolving in a woman's tears ?
Sooner these trembling leaves fhall find a voice,
And tell the fecrets of their confcious walks;
Sooner the breeze fhall catch the flying founds,
And shock the tyrant with a tale of treason.
Your flaughter'd multitudes that fwell the shore,
With monuments of death proclaim his courage;
Virtue and liberty engrofs his foul,
And leave no place for perfidy or fear.
I fcorn a truft unwillingly repos'd;
Demetrius will not lead me to dishonour;
Confult in private; call me when your fcheme
Is ripe for action, and demands the fword.
Forgive an old man's weakness,
And share the deepest fecrets of my foul,
My wrongs, my fears, my motives, my defigns.-
When unfuccefsful wars, and civil factions,
Embroil'd the Turkish ftate our Sultan's father
Great Amurath, at my request, forfook
'The cloifter's eafe, refum'd the tott'ring throne,
And fnatch'd the reins of abdicated pow'r
From giddy Mahomet's unskilful hand.
This fir'd the youthful King's ambitious breaft,
He murmurs vengeance at the name of Cali,
And dooms my rash fidelity to ruin.
Unhappy lot of all that fhine in courts;
For forc'd compliance, or for zealous virtue,
Still odious to the monarch, or the people.
Such are the woes when arbitrary pow'r,
And lawless paffion, hold the sword of Justice.
If there be any land, as Fame reports,
Where common laws reftrain the prince and subject,
A happy land, where circulating pow'r
Flows through each member of th' embodied ftate,
Sure, not unconfcious of the mighty bleffing,
Her grateful fons shine bright with ev'ry virtue ;
Untainted with the luft of innovation,
Sure all unite to hold her league of rule
Unbroken as the facred chain of Nature,
That links the jarring elements in peace.
But fay, great Baffa, why the Sultan's anger,
Burning in vain, delays the ftroke of death?
Young, and unfettled in his father's kingdoms,
Fierce as he was, he dreaded to destroy
The empire's darling, and the foldier's boaft;
But now confirm'd, and fwelling with his conquefts,
Secure he tramples my declining fame,
Frowns unreftrain'd, and dooms me with his eyes.
Which lately blefs'd my gentle government,
Soon as the Sultan's unexpected fate
Fills all th' aftonish'd empire with confufion,
My policy fhall raise an easy throne;
The Turkish pow'rs from Europe shall retreat,
And harafs Greece no more with wafteful war.
A galley mann'd with Greeks, thy charge, Leontius,
Attends to waft us to repofe and fafety.
That veffel, if observ'd, alarms the court,
And gives a thoufand fatal queftions birth;
Why ftor'd for flight? and why prepar'd by Cali ?
This hour I'll beg, with unfufpecting face,
Leave to perform my pilgrimage to Mecca;
Which granted, hides my purpose from the world,
And, though refus'd, conceals it from the Sultan.
How can a fingle hand attempt a life
Which armies guard, and citadels enclose ?
Forgetful of command, with captive beauties,
Far from his troops, he toys his hours away.
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