But, will she yet receive the faith of Mecca?
MUSTAPHA.
Those pow'rful tyrants of the female breast,
Fear and ambition, urge her to compliance;
Dress'd in each charm of gay magnificence,
Alluring grandeur courts her to his arms,
Religion calls her from the wish'd embrace,
Paints future joys, and points to distant glories.
CALI.
Soon will th' unequal contest be decided.
Prospects, obscur'd by distance, faintly strike;
Each pleasure brightens, at its near approach,
And ev'ry danger shocks with double horrour.
MUSTAPHA.
How shall I scorn the beautiful apostate!
How will the bright Aspasia shine above her!
CALI.
Should she, for proselytes are always zealous,
With pious warmth receive our prophet's law--
MUSTAPHA.
Heav'n will contemn the mercenary fervour,
Which love of greatness, not of truth, inflames.
CALI.
Cease, cease thy censures; for the sultan comes
Alone, with am'rous haste to seek his love.
SCENE IV.
MAHOMET, CALI, MUSTAPHA.
CALI.
Hail! terrour of the monarchs of the world;
Unshaken be thy throne, as earth's firm base;
Live, till the sun forgets to dart his beams,
And weary planets loiter in their courses!
MAHOMET.
But, Cali, let Irene share thy prayers;
For what is length of days, without Irene?
I come from empty noise, and tasteless pomp,
From crowds, that hide a monarch from himself,
To prove the sweets of privacy and friendship,
And dwell upon the beauties of Irene.
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