CALI.
Oh! spare the gallant Greek, in him we lose
The politician's arts, and hero's flame.
ABDALLA.
When next we meet, before we storm the palace,
The bowl shall circle to confirm our league;
Then shall these juices taint Demetrius' draught,
[_Showing a phial_.
And stream, destructive, through his freezing veins:
Thus shall he live to strike th' important blow,
And perish, ere he taste the joys of conquest.
SCENE V.
MAHOMET, MUSTAPHA, CALI, ABDALLA.
MAHOMET.
Henceforth, for ever happy be this day,
Sacred to love, to pleasure, and Irene!
The matchless fair has bless'd me with compliance;
Let every tongue resound Irene's praise,
And spread the gen'ral transport through mankind.
CALI.
Blest prince, for whom indulgent heav'n ordains,
At once, the joys of paradise and empire,
Now join thy people's and thy Cali's prayers;
Suspend thy passage to the seats of bliss,
Nor wish for houries in Irene's arms.
MAHOMET.
Forbear--I know the long-try'd faith of Cali.
CALI.
Oh! could the eyes of kings, like those of heav'n,
Search to the dark recesses of the soul,
Oft would they find ingratitude and treason,
By smiles, and oaths, and praises, ill disguis'd.
How rarely would they meet, in crowded courts,
Fidelity so firm, so pure, as mine.
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