SCENE I.--BENDUCAR'S _Palace, in the Castle of Alcazar.

BENDUCAR _solus._

_Bend._ My future fate, the colour of my life, My all, depends on this important hour: This hour my lot is weighing in the scales, And heaven, perhaps, is doubting what to do. Almeyda and a crown have pushed me forward: 'Tis fixed, the tyrant must not ravish her; He and Sebastian stand betwixt my hopes; He most, and therefore first to be dispatched. These, and a thousand things, are to be done In the short compass of this rolling night; And nothing yet performed, None of my emissaries yet returned.

_Enter_ HALY, _first Servant._

Oh Haly, thou hast held me long in pain. What hast thou learnt of Dorax? is he dead?

_Haly._ Two hours I warily have watched his palace; All doors are shut, no servant peeps abroad; Some officers, with striding haste, passed in, While others outward went on quick dispatch. Sometimes hushed silence seemed to reign within; Then cries confused, and a joint clamour, followed; Then lights went gliding by, from room to room, And shot, like thwarting meteors, cross the house. Not daring further to inquire, I came With speed, to bring you this imperfect news.

_Bend._ Hence I conclude him either dead, or dying. His mournful friends, summoned to take their leaves, Are thronged about his couch, and sit in council. What those caballing captains may design, I must prevent, by being first in action.-- To Muley-Zeydan fly with speed, desire him To take my last instructions; tell the importance, And haste his presence here.-- [_Exit_ HALY. How has this poison lost its wonted way? It should have burnt its passage, not have lingered In the blind labyrinths and crooked turnings Of human composition; now it moves Like a slow fire, that works against the wind, As if his stronger stars had interposed.--

_Enter_ HAMET.

Well, Hamet, are our friends, the rabble, raised? 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. [_Exit_ HAMET.

_Enter_ ORCHAN, _the third Servant._

O, Orchan, did I think thy diligence Would lag behind the rest!--What from the Mufti?

_Orc._ 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. [_Walks._

_Enter_ MULEY-ZEYDAN.

_Mul. Zeyd._ You see me come, impatient of my hopes, And eager as the courser for the race: Is all in readiness?

_Bend._ All but the Mufti.

_Mul. Zeyd._ We must go on without him.

_Bend._ True, we must; For 'tis ill stopping in the full career, Howe'er the leap be dangerous and wide.

_Orc._ [_Looking out._] I see the blaze of torches from afar, And hear the trampling of thick-beating feet; This way they move.

_Bend._ No doubt, the emperor. We must not be surprised in conference. Trust to my management the tyrant's death, And haste yourself to join with Mustapha. The officer, who guards the gate, is yours: When you have gained that pass, divide your force; Yourself in person head one chosen half, And march to oppress the faction in consult With dying Dorax. Fate has driven them all Into the net; you must be bold and sudden: Spare none; and if you find him struggling yet With pangs of death, trust not his rolling eyes And heaving gasps; for poison may be false,-- The home thrust of a friendly sword is sure.

_Mul. Zeyd._ Doubt not my conduct; they shall be surprised. Mercy may wait without the gate one night, At morn I'll take her in.

_Bend._ Here lies your way; You meet your brother there.

_Mul. Zeyd._ May we ne'er meet! For, like the twins of Leda, when I mount, He gallops down the skies. [_Exit_ MUL. ZEYD.

_Bend._ He comes:--Now, heart, Be ribbed with iron for this one attempt; Set ope thy sluices, send the vigorous blood Through every active limb for my relief; Then take thy rest within thy quiet cell, For thou shalt drum no more.

_Enter Emperor, and Guards attending him._

_Emp._ What news of our affairs, and what of Dorax? Is he no more? say that, and make me happy.

_Bend._ May all your enemies be like that dog, Whose parting soul is labouring at the lips.

_Emp._ The people, are they raised?

_Bend._ And marshalled too; Just ready for the march.

_Emp._ Then I'm at ease.

_Bend._ The night is yours; the glittering host of heaven Shines but for you; but most the star of love, That twinkles you to fair Almeyda's bed. Oh, there's a joy to melt in her embrace, Dissolve in pleasure, And make the gods curse immortality, That so they could not die. But haste, and make them yours.

_Emp._ I will; and yet A kind of weight hangs heavy at my heart; My flagging soul flies under her own pitch, Like fowl in air too damp, and lugs along, As if she were a body in a body, And not a mounting substance made of fire. My senses, too, are dull and stupified, Their edge rebated:--sure some ill approaches, And some kind sprite knocks softly at my soul, To tell me, fate's at hand[6].

_Bend._ Mere fancies all. Your soul has been before-hand with your body, And drunk so deep a draught of promised bliss, She slumbers o'er the cup; no danger's near, But of a surfeit at too full a feast.

_Emp._ It may be so; it looks so like the dream That overtook me, at my waking hour, This morn; and dreams, they say, are then divine, When all the balmy vapours are exhaled, And some o'erpowering god continues sleep. 'Twas then, methought, Almeyda, smiling, came, Attended with a train of all her race, Whom, in the rage of empire, I had murdered: But now, no longer foes, they gave me joy Of my new conquest, and, with helping hands, Heaved me into our holy prophet's arms, Who bore me in a purple cloud to heaven[7].

_Bend._ Good omen, sir; I wish you in that heaven Your dream portends you,-- Which presages death. [_Aside._

_Emp._ Thou too wert there; And thou, methought, didst push me from below, With thy full force, to Paradise.

_Bend._ Yet better.

_Emp._ Ha! what's that grizly fellow, that attends thee?

_Bend._ Why ask you, sir?

_Emp._ For he was in my dream, And helped to heave me up.

_Bend._ With prayers and wishes; For I dare swear him honest.

_Emp._ That may be; But yet he looks damnation.

_Bend._ You forget The face would please you better. Do you love, And can you thus forbear?

_Emp._ I'll head my people, Then think of dalliance when the danger's o'er. My warlike spirits work now another way, And my soul's tuned to trumpets.

_Bend._ You debase yourself, To think of mixing with the ignoble herd; Let such perform the servile work of war, Such who have no Almeyda to enjoy. What, shall the people know their god-like prince Skulked in a nightly skirmish? Stole a conquest, Headed a rabble, and profaned his person, Shouldered with filth, borne in a tide of ordure, And stifled with their rank offensive sweat?

_Emp._ I am off again; I will not prostitute The regal dignity so far, to head them.

_Bend._ There spoke a king. Dismiss your guards, to be employed elsewhere In ruder combats; you will want no seconds In those alarms you seek.

_Emp._ Go, join the crowd;-- [_To the Guards._ Benducar, thou shalt lead them in my place. [_Exeunt Guards._ The God of Love once more has shot his fires Into my soul, and my whole heart receives him. Almeyda now returns with all her charms; I feel her as she glides along my veins, And dances in my blood. So when our prophet Had long been hammering, in his lonely cell, Some dull, insipid, tedious Paradise, A brisk Arabian girl came tripping by; Passing she cast at him a side-long glance, And looked behind, in hopes to be pursued: He took the hint, embraced the flying fair, And, having found his heaven, he fixed it there. [_Exit Emperor._

_Bend._ That Paradise thou never shalt possess. His death is easy now, his guards are gone, And I can sin but once to seize the throne; All after-acts are sanctified by power.

_Orc._ Command my sword and life.

_Bend._ I thank thee, Orchan, And shall reward thy faith. This master-key Frees every lock, and leads us to his person; And, should we miss our blow,--as heaven forbid!-- Secures retreat. Leave open all behind us; And first set wide the Mufti's garden gate, Which is his private passage to the palace; For there our mutineers appoint to meet, And thence we may have aid.--Now sleep, ye stars, That silently o'erwatch the fate of kings! Be all propitious influences barred, And none but murderous planets mount the guard. [_Exit with_ ORCHAN.