Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales Part 17

Some vain amus.e.m.e.nt of a vacant soul!

A weeping wife, perhaps, or dying friend, Hung on your neck, and hinder'd your departure.

Is this a time for softness or for sorrow?

Unprofitable, peaceful, female virtues!

When eager vengeance shows a naked foe, And kind ambition points the way to greatness.

ABDALLA.

Must then ambition's votaries infringe The laws of kindness, break the bonds of nature, And quit the names of brother, friend, and father?

CALI.

This sov'reign pa.s.sion, scornful of restraint, E'en from the birth, affects supreme command, Swells in the breast, and, with resistless force, O'erbears each gentler motion of the mind: As, when a deluge overspreads the plains, The wand'ring rivulet, and silver lake, Mix undistinguish'd with the gen'ral roar.

ABDALLA.

Yet can ambition, in Abdalla's breast, Claim but the second place: there mighty love Has fix'd his hopes, inquietudes, and fears, His glowing wishes, and his jealous pangs.

CALI.

Love is, indeed, the privilege of youth; Yet, on a day like this, when expectation Pants for the dread event--But let us reason--

ABDALLA.

Hast thou grown old, amidst the crowd of courts, And turn'd th' instructive page of human life, To cant, at last, of reason to a lover?

Such ill-tim'd gravity, such serious folly, Might well befit the solitary student, Th' unpractis'd dervis, or sequester'd faquir.

Know'st thou not yet, when love invades the soul, That all her faculties receive his chains?

That reason gives her sceptre to his hand, Or only struggles to be more enslav'd?

Aspasia, who can look upon thy beauties?

Who hear thee speak, and not abandon reason?

Reason! the h.o.a.ry dotard's dull directress, That loses all, because she hazards nothing!

Reason! the tim'rous pilot, that, to shun The rocks of life, for ever flies the port!

CALI.

But why this sudden warmth?

ABDALLA.

Because I love: Because my slighted pa.s.sion burns in vain!

Why roars the lioness, distress'd by hunger?

Why foam the swelling waves, when tempests rise?

Why shakes the ground, when subterraneous fires Fierce through the bursting caverns rend their way?

CALI.

Not till this day, thou saw'st this fatal fair; Did ever pa.s.sion make so swift a progress?

Once more reflect; suppress this infant folly.

ABDALLA.

Gross fires, enkindled by a mortal hand, Spread, by degrees, and dread th' oppressing stream; The subtler flames, emitted from the sky, Flash out at once, with strength above resistance.

CALI.

How did Aspasia welcome your address?

Did you proclaim this unexpected conquest?

Or pay, with speaking eyes, a lover's homage?

ABDALLA.

Confounded, aw'd, and lost in admiration, I gaz'd, I trembled; but I could not speak; When e'en, as love was breaking off from wonder, And tender accents quiver'd on my lips, She mark'd my sparkling eyes, and heaving breast, And smiling, conscious of her charms, withdrew.

[_Enter_ Demetrius _and_ Leontius.

CALI.

Now be, some moments, master of thyself; Nor let Demetrius know thee for a rival.

Hence! or be calm--To disagree is ruin.

SCENE II.

CALI, DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, ABDALLA.

DEMETRIUS.

When will occasion smile upon our wishes, And give the tortures of suspense a period?

Still must we linger in uncertain hope?

Still languish in our chains, and dream of freedom, Like thirsty sailors gazing on the clouds, Till burning death shoots through their wither'd limbs?

CALI.

Deliverance is at hand; for Turkey's tyrant, Sunk in his pleasures, confident and gay, With all the hero's dull security, Trusts to my care his mistress and his life, And laughs, and wantons in the jaws of death.

LEONTIUS.

So weak is man, when destin'd to destruction!-- The watchful slumber, and the crafty trust.

CALI.

At my command, yon iron gates unfold; At my command, the sentinels retire; With all the license of authority, Through bowing slaves, I range the private rooms, And of to-morrow's action fix the scene.

DEMETRIUS.

To-morrow's action! Can that h.o.a.ry wisdom, Borne down with years, still dote upon to-morrow?

That fatal mistress of the young, the lazy, The coward, and the fool, condemn'd to lose An useless life, in waiting for to-morrow, To gaze with longing eyes upon to-morrow, Till interposing death destroys the prospect!

Strange! that this gen'ral fraud, from day to day, Should fill the world with wretches undetected.

The soldier, lab'ring through a winter's march, Still sees to-morrow drest in robes of triumph; Still to the lover's long-expecting arms To-morrow brings the visionary bride.

But thou, too old to bear another cheat, Learn, that the present hour alone is man's.

LEONTIUS.

The present hour, with open arms, invites; Seize the kind fair, and press her to thy bosom.

DEMETRIUS.

Who knows, ere this important morrow rise, But fear or mutiny may taint the Greeks?

Who knows, if Mahomet's awaking anger May spare the fatal bowstring till to-morrow?

ABDALLA.

Had our first Asian foes but known this ardour, We still had wander'd on Tartarian hills.

Rouse, Cali; shall the sons of conquer'd Greece Lead us to danger, and abash their victors?

This night, with all her conscious stars, be witness, Who merits most, Demetrius or Abdalla.

DEMETRIUS.

Who merits most!--I knew not, we were rivals.

CALI.