Forgive, my fair; 'tis life, 'tis nature calls:
Now, traitor, feel the fear that chills my hand.
ASPASIA.
'Tis madness to provoke superfluous danger,
And cowardice to dread the boast of folly.
ABDALLA.
Fly, wretch, while yet my pity grants thee flight;
The pow'r of Turkey waits upon my call.
Leave but this maid, resign a hopeless claim,
And drag away thy life, in scorn and safety,
Thy life, too mean a prey to lure Abdalla.
DEMETRIUS.
Once more I dare thy sword; behold the prize,
Behold, I quit her to the chance of battle.
[_Quitting_ Aspasia.
ABDALLA.
Well may'st thou call thy master to the combat,
And try the hazard, that hast nought to stake;
Alike my death or thine is gain to thee;
But soon thou shalt repent: another moment
Shall throw th' attending janizaries round thee.
[_Exit, hastily_, Abdalla.
SCENE V.
ASPASIA, IRENE, DEMETRIUS.
IRENE.
Abdalla fails; now, fortune, all is mine. [_Aside_.
Haste, Murza, to the palace, let the sultan
[_To one of her attendant_
Despatch his guards to stop the flying traitors,
While I protract their stay. Be swift and faithful.
[_Exit_ Murza.
This lucky stratagem shall charm the sultan, [_Aside_.
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