SCENE I.
GENGHIS, OCTAR, OSMAN.
Attendants.
GENGHIS.
What say the captives, is the fraud discovered,
And vengeance taken on these vile impostors?
Have they delivered up the orphan prince
To Octar?
OSMAN.
Prayers, and threats, and torments, all
Are vain: the undaunted Zamti still persists
In his first answer: on his open brows
Are engraved the marks of truth: the mournful fair one,
Whose grief but adds new lustre to her charms,
With tears incessant and heart-rending sighs,
Moves every heart: spite of ourselves we wept
Her wretched fate: ne’er did my eyes behold
A sweeter mourner: she entreats to see
And speak with you; the conqueror of kings,
She hopes, will hear the wretched, and in wrath
Remember mercy; that he will protect
A guiltless child, and show mankind his goodness
Is like his power, unlimited. ‘Twas thus,
My lord, she spoke of you, and I have promised
She shall have audience.
GENGHIS.
[To one of the attendants.
Bid her enter now,
We shall unravel this deep mystery;
But let her not imagine a few sighs,
And bidden tears, can e’er impose on me:
I have experienced all these female arts,
But I defy them now: let her be careful,
Her life depends on her sincerity.
OSMAN.
My lord, she comes.
GENGHIS.
What do I see? O heaven!
It cannot be Idame, sure my senses —
SCENE II.
GENGHIS, IDAME, OCTAR, OSMAN.
Guards.
IDAME.
My lord, I came not to solicit pardon,
My forfeit life is yours, I ask not for it:
Why should I wish for years of added woe?
But spare a guiltless infant.
GENGHIS.
Rise, Idame,
Fate conquers all, it has deceived us both.
If heaven hath raised a poor inhabitant
Of Scythia, once the object of your scorn,
To power, and splendor, you have naught to fear:
The emperor never will avenge the wrongs
Of Temugin; but public good demands
The royal victim; ‘tis a sacrifice
Which must be made: for your own son, myself
Will be his guard: I promise to protect him.
IDAME.
Then I am happy.
GENGHIS.
But inform me, madam,
What is this fraud, this mystery between you?
For I must know it all.
IDAME.
O spare the wretched.
GENGHIS.
Have I not cause to hate this Zamti?
IDAME.
You,
My lord?
GENGHIS.
I’ve said too much.
IDAME.
Restore my child,
You’ve promised it.
GENGHIS.
His pardon must depend
On you alone: you know I have been injured,
My favors scorned, my orders disobeyed:
Who is this Zamti, this respected lord,
This husband? in that name alone comprised
Is every guilt: what charms has he to boast
Who braves me thus?
IDAME.
He was my only comfort,
My joy, my happiness, the best of men;
He served his God, his country, and his king.
GENGHIS.
How long, Idame, have you been united?
IDAME.
Ever since the fatal time, when wayward fortune
Espoused thy cause, and gave a tyrant power
To scourge mankind.
GENGHIS.
I understand you, madam,
E’er since the time you mean, when I was scorned
By a proud beauty, when this country first
Deserved the chains which it was doomed to wear.
SCENE III.
GENGHIS, OCTAR, OSMAN.
[On one side of the stage.
IDAME, and ZAMTI.
[On the other, Guords.
GENGHIS.
What sayest thou, slave? hast thou delivered up
The emperor’s son?
ZAMTI.
I have, my lord, ‘tis done:
I have fulfilled my duty.
GENGHIS.
Well thou knowest
Nor fraud, nor insolence escape my vengeance:
If thou hast dared to hide him from my wrath,
He must be found, his death shall follow thine.
[To the guards.
Seize and destroy that infant.
ZAMTI.
Wretched father!
IDAME.
Stay, cruel tyrant, stay, is this your pity,
Is this your promise?
GENGHIS.
I have been deceived;
Explain the mystery, madam, or he dies.
IDAME.
I’ll tell thee all; and if it be a crime
To follow nature, and obey her laws,
If still thy cruel spirit thirsts for blood,
Let all your anger light on me, but spare
The noble Zamti: to our mutual care
The emperor entrusted his dear son:
Thou knowest too well what scenes of horrid slaughter
Followed thy cruel victory, and marked
Thy steps with blood; that might have satisfied
A less inhuman conqueror: when thy slaves
Demanded our last hope, the royal heir,
My generous Zamti, faithful to his king,
To duty gave up all, and sacrificed
His son, nor listened to the powerful voice
Of nature; I admired that patriot firmness
I had not strength to imitate: alas!
I am a mother, how could I consent
To my child’s death? my terrors, my despair,
My rage, my anguish, all too plainly spoke
What Zamti strove to hide: behold, my lord,
The wretched father, he deserves your pity:
So does my guiltless infant: punish me,
And me alone: forgive me, dearest Zamti,
Forgive a mother’s tenderness, forgive
A wife that loves thee and would save thy son.
ZAMTI.
I have forgiven thee, and, thank heaven, my king,
The royal infant’s safe.
GENGHIS.
‘Tis false; begone,
And find him, traitor, or thou diest; atone
For thy past crimes.
ZAMTI.
The crime were to obey
A tyrant, but my royal master’s voice
Cries from the tomb, and bids me tell thee, Genghis,
Thou art my conqueror, but not my king:
Were Zamti born thy subject, he had been
Most faithful to thee: I have sacrificed
My son, and thinkest thou I can fear to die?
GENGHIS.
[To the guard.
Away with him.
IDAME.
O stay.
GENGHIS.
I’ll hear no more.
IDAME.
I have deserved thy anger, I alone
Should feel thy vengeance: thou hast slain my king,
And now my husband and my child must fall
By thy destructive hand: inhuman tyrant,
When will thy wrath be satisfied?
GENGHIS.
Away:
Follow thy guilty husband: darest thou plead
For mercy, thou reproach me?
IDAME.
Then all hope
Is lost.
GENGHIS.
If ever I think of clemency,
It must not be till ample reparation
Is made for all my wrongs: you understand me.
SCENE IV.
GENGHIS, OCTAR.
GENGHIS.
What means this fluttering heart, and wherefore thus
Steals from my breast the involuntary sigh?
Some power divine protects her: O my Octar,
What secret charms have innocence and beauty,
That proud authority should thus submit
To own their influence? I have lost myself
And want a friend; O lend me thy kind counsel.
OCTAR.
Since I must speak, I’ll speak with freedom; know then
This dangerous branch of a detested race
Must be cut off, or we are not secure
In our new conquest; victory’s best guard
Is rigor; by severity alone
Your power can be established. Time, my lord,
Will bring back order and tranquillity;
The people by degrees forget their wrongs,
Or pardon them: you then may reign in peace.
GENGHIS.
And can it be Idame, that proud beauty,
Given to another, to my mortal foe!
OCTAR.
She merits not your pity, but your hate;
I cannot, must not think you ever loved her;
‘Twas but a short and momentary flame,
That sparkled and expired; her cruel scorn,
Her proud refusal, and the hand of time,
Have quite extinguished it; she is no more
To Genghis now than the ignoble wife,
Of an abandoned traitor.
GENGHIS.
He shall die;
A slave! a rival!
OCTAR.
Wherefore lives he yet?
Strike, and revenge thyself.
GENGHIS.
I know not why,
But my fond heart still trembles at the thought
Of injuring her: subdued by beauty’s tears
I dare not hurt a rival and a slave;
Even in the husband I respect the wife:
Is love indeed so great a conqueror,
And must I grace his triumphs?
OCTAR.
All I know,
And all I wish for, is to follow thee,
The rattling chariot, and the sounding bow,
The fiery coursers, and the din of arms:
These are my passions, these the joys of Octar:
I am a stranger to the sighs of love,
And think them far beneath the royal soul
Of Genghis; they debase a character
So great as thine.
GENGHIS.
I know my power, I know
That I could make her mine: but what avails
The fairest form without the conquered heart?
Where is the joy to press within our arms
A trembling slave? to see her beauteous eyes
Forever bathed in tears, and her full heart
Oppressed with sorrow? ‘tis a barbarous triumph:
The savage herd, that through the forest roam,
Enjoy more peace, and boast a purer love:
The fair Idame has some secret power
That charms me more than victory and empire:
I thought I could have driven her from my heart,
But she returns, and triumphs.
SCENE V.
GENGHIS, OCTAR, OSMAN.
GENGHIS.
Well: what says she?
OSMAN.
That she will perish with her husband rather
Than tell the place where, hid from every eye,
The orphan lies concealed; the tender husband
Supports her in his arms; with added courage
Inspires her soul, and teaches her to die.
They wish to be united in the grave;
The people throng around, and every eye
Is wet with tears, lamenting their sad fate.
GENGHIS.
And does Idame talk of death from me?
Fly, Osman, fly, tell her I hold her life
As sacred as my own: away.
SCENE VI.
GENGHIS, OCTAR.
OCTAR.
This infant,
Concerning him, my lord — what’s to be done?
GENGHIS.
Nothing.
OCTAR.
You gave commands he should be torn
Even from Idame’s bosom.
GENGHIS.
We must think
Of that hereafter.
OCTAR.
What if they should hide —
GENGHIS.
He cannot escape us.
OCTAR.
Still they may deceive you.
GENGHIS.
Idame is incapable of fraud.
OCTAR.
And would you then preserve the royal race?
GENGHIS.
I would preserve Idame; for the rest
‘Tis equal all, dispose it as thou wilt.
Go, bring her hither — stay — my Octar — try
If thou canst soften this rebellious slave,
This Zamti, and persuade him to obey me.
We will not heed this infant; he shall make me
A nobler sacrifice.
OCTAR.
Who, he, my lord?
GENGHIS.
Ay, he.
OCTAR.
What hopest thou?
GENGHIS.
To subdue Idame,
To see her, to adore her, to be loved
By that ungrateful fair one; or to take
My full revenge, to punish her, and die.
END of the THIRD ACT.