With him Abdalla we beheld--
MUSTAPHA.
Abdalla!
MAHOMET.
He wears, of late, resentment on his brow,
Deny'd the government of Servia's province.
CARAZA.
We mark'd him storming in excess of fury,
And heard, within the thicket that conceal'd us,
An undistinguish'd sound of threat'ning rage.
MUSTAPHA.
How guilt, once harbour'd in the conscious breast,
Intimidates the brave, degrades the great;
See Cali, dread of kings, and pride of armies,
By treason levell'd with the dregs of men!
Ere guilty fear depress'd the hoary chief,
An angry murmur, a rebellious frown,
Had stretch'd the fiery boaster in the grave.
MAHOMET.
Shall monarchs fear to draw the sword of justice,
Aw'd by the crowd, and by their slaves restrain'd?
Seize him this night, and, through the private passage,
Convey him to the prison's inmost depths,
Reserv'd to all the pangs of tedious death.
[_Exeunt_ Mahomet _and_ Mustapha.
SCENE IX.
HASAN, CARAZA.
HASAN.
Shall then the Greeks, unpunish'd and conceal'd,
Contrive, perhaps, the ruin of our empire;
League with our chiefs, and propagate sedition?
CARAZA.
Whate'er their scheme, the bassa's death defeats it,
And gratitude's strong ties restrain my tongue.
HASAN.
What ties to slaves? what gratitude to foes?
CARAZA.
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