MAHOMET.

Some artful wile of counterfeited love!
Some foft decoy to lure me to destruction!
And thou the curs'd accomplice of her treason,
Declare thy meffage, and expect thy doom.

MURZA.

The queen requested that a chofen troop
Might intercept the traitor Greek, Demetrius,
Then ling'ring with his captive mistress here.

MUSTAPHA.

The Greek, Demetrius ! whom th' expiring Baffa
Declar'd the chief affociate of his guilt.

MAHOMET.

A chofen troop-to intercept-Demetrius-
The queen requested-Wretch, repeat the message.
And if one varied accent prove thy falfhood,
Or but one moment's pause betray confusion,
Those trembling limbs-Speak out, thou shiv'ring
traitor.

The queen requested—

MURZA.

MAHOMET.

Who the dead Irene ?

Was fhe then guiltless! Has my thoughtless rage

Destroy'd the fairest workmanship of heav'n !

Doom'd her to death unpity'd and unheard,
Amidft her kind folicitudes for me!

Ye flaves of cruelty, ye tools of rage, [To Haf. & Car-
Ye blind officious minifters of folly,

Could not her charms reprefs your zeal for murder?
Could not her prayers, her innocence, her tears,
Suspend the dreadful sentence for an hour?
One hour had freed me from the fatal error,
One hour had fav'd me from despair and madness.

CARAZA.

Your fierce impatience forc'd us from your presence,
Urg'd us to speed, and bade us banish pity,
Nor truft our paffions with her fatal charms.

MAHOMET.

What hadft thou loft by flighting those commands ?
Thy life perhaps-Were but Irene spar'd,
Well if a thoufand lives like thine had perish'd;
Such beauty, sweetness, love, were cheaply bought,
With half the grov'ling faves that load the globe.

MUSTAPHA.

Great is thy woe! but think, illustrious Sultan,
Such ills are fent for fouls like thine to conquer.
Shake off this weight of unavailing grief,
Rush to the war, difplay thy dreadful banners,
And lead thy troops victorious round the world.
MAHOMET.

MAHOMET.

Robb'd of the maid with whom I wish'd to triumph,
No more I burn for fame, or for dominion ;
Success and conqueft now are empty founds,
Remorfe and anguifh feize on all my breaft ;'

Thofe groves, whofe fhades embower'd the dear Irene,
Heard her laft cries, and fann'd her dying beauties,
Shall hide me from the taftelefs world for ever.

[Mahomet goes back and returns.

Yet ere I quit the fceptre of dominion;

Let one juft act conclude the hateful day.

Hew down, ye guards, thofe vaffals of distraction,
[Pointing to Hafan and Caraza.

Thofe hounds of blood, that catch the hint to kill;
Bear off with eager hafte th' unfinish'd sentence,
And speed the ftroke left mercy fhould o'ertake them.

CARAZA.

Then hear, great Mahomet, the voice of truth:

MAHOMET.

Hear! fhall I hear thee! didst thou hear Irene ?

Hear but a moment.

CARAZA,

MAHOMET.

Hadft thou heard a moment,

Thou might't have liv'd, for thou hadst fpar'd Irene.

CARAZA.

CARAZA.

I heard her, pitied her, and wifh'd to fave her.

MAHOMET.

And wifh'd-Be ftill thy fate to wish in vain.

CARAZA.

I heard, and foften'd, till Abdalla brought
Her final doom, and hurried her destruction.

MAHOMET.

Abdalla brought her doom! Abdalla brought it !
The wretch, whofe guilt declar'd by tortur'd Cali,
My rage and grief had hid from my remembrance;
Abdalla brought her doom!

HASAN.

Abdalla brought it,

While fhe yet begg'd to plead her caufe before thee.

MAHOMET.

O feize me, madness-did fhe call on me!
I feel, I fee the ruffian's barb'rous rage.

He feiz'd her melting in the fond appeal,
And stopp'd the heav'nly voice that call'd on me.
My fpirits fail, awhile fupport me, vengeance-
Be juft, ye slaves, and, to be just, be cruel,
Contrive new racks, imbitter every pang,
Inflict whatever treafon can deserve,

Which murder'd innocence that call'd on me.

[Exit Mahomet. [Abdalla is dragg'd off.

SCENE XIII.

MAHOMET, HASAN, CARAZA, MUSTAPHA,

MURZA.

MUSTAPHA to MURZA.

What plagues, what tortures, are in ftore for thee,
Thou fluggish idler, dilatory flave?

Behold the model of confunimate beauty,
Torn from the mourning earth by thy neglect.

MURZA.

Such was the will of heav'n-A band of Greeks That mark'd my courfe, fufpicious of my purpose, Rush'd out and feiz'd me, thoughtlefs and unarm'd, Breathless, amaz'd, and on the guarded beach Detain'd me till Demetrius fet me free.

MUSTAPHA.

So fure the fall of greatnefs rais'd on crimes,
So fix'd the justice of all confcious heav'n.
"When haughty guilt exults with impious joy,
Mistake shall blaft, or accident destroy;

Weak man with erring rage may throw the dart,
But heav'n fhall guide it to the guilty heart,