SCENE II. _The Palace. The Sultan discovered with guards and officers

attending._

Haswell _is conducted in by an officer_.

_Sul._ Sir, you are summoned to receive our thanks, for the troops restored to health by your kind prescriptions.--Ask a reward adequate to your services.

_Has._ Sultan--the reward I ask, is to preserve more of your people still.

_Sul._ How more? my subjects are in health--no contagion reigns amongst them.

_Has._ The prisoner is your subject--there misery--more contagious than disease, preys on the lives of hundreds--sentenced but to confinement, their doom is death.--Immured in damp and dreary vaults, they daily perish--and who can tell but that amongst the many hapless sufferers, there may be hearts, bent down with penitence to Heaven and you, for every slight offence--there may be some amongst the wretched multitude, even innocent victims.--Let me seek them out--let me save them, and you.

_Sul._ Amazement! retract your application--curb this weak pity; and receive our thanks.

_Has._ Curb my pity?--and what can I receive in recompence for that soft bond, which links me to the wretched?--and while it sooths their sorrow repays me more, than all the gifts or homage of an empire.----But if repugnant to your plan of government--not in the name of pity--but of justice.

_Sul._ Justice!----

_Has._ The justice which forbids all but the worst of criminals to be denied that wholesome air the very brute creation freely takes; at least allow them _that_.

_Sul._ Consider, Sir, for whom you plead--for men, (if not base culprits) yet so misled, so depraved, they are offensive to our state, and deserve none of its blessings.

_Has._ If not upon the undeserving,--if not upon the hapless wanderer from the paths of rectitude,--where shall the sun diffuse his light, or the clouds distil their dew? Where shall spring breathe fragrance, or autumn pour its plenty?

_Sul._ Sir, your sentiments, but much more your character, excite my curiosity. They tell me, in our camps, you visited each sick man's bed,--administered yourself the healing draught,--encouraged our savages with the hope of life, or pointed out their _better_ hope in death.----The widow speaks your charities--the orphan lisps your bounties--and the rough Indian melts in tears to bless you.----I wish to ask _why_ you have done all this?--What is it prompts you thus to befriend the wretched and forlorn?

_Has._ In vain for me to explain--the time it wou'd take to tell you why I act thus----

_Sul._ Send it in writing then.

_Has._ Nay, if you will _read_, I'll send a book, in which is _already_ written why I act thus.

_Sul._ What book?--What is it called?

_Has._ "The Christian Doctrine." [Haswell _bows here with the utmost reverence_.] There you will find all I have done was but my duty.

_Sul._ [_To the Guards._] Retire, and leave me alone with the stranger. [_All retire except_ Haswell _and the_ Sultan. _They come forward._]

_Sul._ Your words recall reflections that distract me; nor can I bear the pressure on my mind without confessing--I am a Christian.

_Has._ A Christian!--What makes you thus assume the apostate?

_Sul._ Misery, and despair.

_Has._ What made you a Christian?

_Sul._ My Arabella,--a lovely European, sent hither in her youth, by her mercenary parents, to sell herself to the prince of all these territories. But 'twas my happy lot, in humble life, to win her love, snatch her from his expecting arms, and bear her far away--where, in peaceful solitude we lived, till, in the heat of the rebellion against the late Sultan, I was forced from my happy home to bear a part.--I chose the imputed rebels side, and fought for the young aspirer.--An arrow, in the midst of the engagement, pierced his heart; and his officers, alarmed at the terror this stroke of fate might cause amongst their troops, urged me (as I bore his likeness) to counterfeit it farther, and shew myself to the soldiers as their king recovered. I yielded to their suit, because it gave me ample power to avenge the loss of my Arabella, who had been taken from her home by the merciless foe, and barbarously murdered.

_Has._ Murdered!

_Sul._ I learnt so--and my fruitless search to find her since has confirmed the intelligence.--Frantic for her loss, I joyfully embraced a scheme which promised vengeance on the enemy--it prospered,--and I revenged my wrongs and her's, with such unsparing justice on the foe, that even the men who made me what I was, trembled to reveal their imposition; and they find it still their interest to continue it.

_Has._ Amazement!

_Sul._ Nay, they fill my prisons every day with wretches, that dare whisper I am not the real Sultan, but a stranger. The secret, therefore, I myself safely relate in private: the danger is to him who speaks it again; and, with this caution, I trust, it is safe with you.

_Has._ It was, without that caution.--Now hear me.----Involved in deeds, in cruelties, which your better thoughts revolt at, the meanest wretch your camps or prisons hold, claims not half the compassion _you_ have excited. Permit me, then, to be your comforter, as I have been theirs.

_Sul._ Impossible!

_Has._ In the most fatal symptoms I have undertaken the body's cure. The mind's disease, perhaps, I'm not less a stranger to--Oh! trust the noble patient to my care.

_Sul._ How will you begin?

_Has._ Lead you to behold the wretched in their misery, and then shew you yourself in their deliverer.----I have your promise for a boon--'tis this.--Give me the liberty of six that I shall name, now in confinement, and be yourself a witness of their enlargement.--See joy lighted in the countenance where sorrow still has left its rough remains.--Behold the tear of rapture chase away that of anguish--hear the faultering voice, long used to lamentation, in broken accents, utter thanks and blessings.--Behold this scene, and if you find the medicine ineffectual, dishonour your physician.

_Sul._ I will behold it.

_Has._ Come, then, to the governor's house this very night--into that council room so often perverted to the use of the torture; and there, unknown to them as their king, you shall be witness to all the grateful heart can dictate, and enjoy all that benevolence can taste.

_Sul._ I will meet you there.

_Has._ In the evening?

_Sul._ At ten precisely.--Guards, conduct the stranger from the palace. [_Exit Sultan._

_Has._ Thus far advanced, what changes may not be hoped for? [_Exit._

END OF THE THIRD ACT.