Classic Poem

ABDALLA, aside.
Safe in her death, and in Demetrius' flight,
Abdalla, bid thy troubled breast be calm.
Now shalt thou shine, the darling of the sultan,
The plot all Cali's, the detection thine.

HASAN to CARAZA.
Does not thy bosom (for I know thee tender,
A stranger to th' oppressor's savage joy,)
Melt at Irene's fate, and share her woes?

CARAZA.
Her piercing cries yet fill the loaded air,
Dwell on my ear, and sadden all my soul.
But let us try to clear our clouded brows,
And tell the horrid tale with cheerful face;
The stormy sultan rages at our stay.

ABDALLA.
Frame your report with circumspective art:
Inflame her crimes, exalt your own obedience;
But let no thoughtless hint involve Abdalla.

CARAZA.
What need of caution to report the fate
Of her, the sultan's voice condemn'd to die?
Or why should he, whose violence of duty
Has serv'd his prince so well, demand our silence?

ABDALLA.
Perhaps, my zeal, too fierce, betray'd my prudence;
Perhaps, my warmth exceeded my commission;
Perhaps--I will not stoop to plead my cause,
Or argue with the slave that sav'd Demetrius.

CARAZA.
From his escape learn thou the pow'r of virtue;
Nor hope his fortune, while thou want'st his worth.

HASAN.
The sultan comes, still gloomy, still enraged.