Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales Part 11

DEMETRIUS.

A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it: A feeble government, eluded laws, A factious populace, luxurious n.o.bles, And all the maladies of sinking states.

When publick villany, too strong for justice, Shows his bold front, the harbinger of ruin, Can brave Leontius call for airy wonders, Which cheats interpret, and which fools regard?

When some neglected fabrick nods beneath The weight of years, and totters to the tempest, Must heav'n despatch the messengers of light, Or wake the dead, to warn us of its fall?

LEONTIUS.

Well might the weakness of our empire sink Before such foes of more than human force: Some pow'r invisible, from heav'n or h.e.l.l, Conducts their armies, and a.s.serts their cause.

DEMETRIUS.

And yet, my friend, what miracles were wrought Beyond the pow'r of constancy and courage?

Did unresisted lightning aid their cannon?

Did roaring whirlwinds sweep us from the ramparts?

'Twas vice that shook our nerves, 'twas vice, Leontius, That froze our veins, and wither'd all our pow'rs.

LEONTIUS.

Whate'er our crimes, our woes demand compa.s.sion.

Each night, protected by the friendly darkness, Quitting my close retreat, I range the city, And, weeping, kiss the venerable ruins; With silent pangs, I view the tow'ring domes, Sacred to pray'r; and wander through the streets, Where commerce lavish'd unexhausted plenty, And jollity maintain'd eternal revels--

DEMETRIUS.

--How chang'd, alas!--Now ghastly desolation, In triumph, sits upon our shatter'd spires; Now superst.i.tion, ignorance, and errour, Usurp our temples, and profane our altars.

LEONTIUS.

From ev'ry palace bursts a mingled clamour, The dreadful dissonance of barb'rous triumph, Shrieks of affright, and waitings of distress.

Oft when the cries of violated beauty Arose to heav'n, and pierc'd my bleeding breast, I felt thy pains, and trembled for Aspasia.

DEMETRIUS.

Aspasia!--spare that lov'd, that mournful name: Dear, hapless maid--tempestuous grief o'erbears My reasoning pow'rs--Dear, hapless, lost Aspasia!

LEONTIUS.

Suspend the thought.

DEMETRIUS.

All thought on her is madness; Yet let me think--I see the helpless maid; Behold the monsters gaze with savage rapture, Behold how l.u.s.t and rapine struggle round her!

LEONTIUS.

Awake, Demetrius, from this dismal dream; Sink not beneath imaginary sorrows; Call to your aid your courage and your wisdom; Think on the sudden change of human scenes; Think on the various accidents of war; Think on the mighty pow'r of awful virtue; Think on that providence that guards the good.

DEMETRIUS.

O providence! extend thy care to me; For courage droops, unequal to the combat; And weak philosophy denies her succours.

Sure, some kind sabre in the heat of battle, Ere yet the foe found leisure to be cruel, Dismiss'd her to the sky.

LEONTIUS.

Some virgin martyr, Perhaps, enamour'd of resembling virtue, With gentle hand, restrain'd the streams of life, And s.n.a.t.c.h'd her timely from her country's fate.

DEMETRIUS.

From those bright regions of eternal day, Where now thou shin'st among thy fellow-saints, Array'd in purer light, look down on me: In pleasing visions and a.s.suasive dreams, O! sooth my soul, and teach me how to lose thee.

LEONTIUS.

Enough of unavailing tears, Demetrius: I come obedient to thy friendly summons, And hop'd to share thy counsels, not thy sorrows: While thus we mourn the fortune of Aspasia, To what are we reserv'd?

DEMETRIUS.

To what I know not: But hope, yet hope, to happiness and honour; If happiness can be, without Aspasia.

LEONTIUS.

But whence this new-sprung hope?

DEMETRIUS.

From Cali ba.s.sa, The chief, whose wisdom guides the Turkish counsels.

He, tir'd of slav'ry, though the highest slave, Projects, at once, our freedom and his own; And bids us, thus disguis'd, await him here.

LEONTIUS.

Can he restore the state he could not save?

In vain, when Turkey's troops a.s.sail'd our walls, His kind intelligence betray'd their measures; Their arms prevail'd, though Cali was our friend.

DEMETRIUS.

When the tenth sun had set upon our sorrows, At midnight's private hour, a voice unknown Sounds in my sleeping ear, 'Awake, Demetrius, Awake, and follow me to better fortunes.'

Surpris'd I start, and bless the happy dream; Then, rousing, know the fiery chief Abdalla, Whose quick impatience seiz'd my doubtful hand, And led me to the sh.o.r.e where Cali stood, Pensive, and list'ning to the beating surge.

There, in soft hints, and in ambiguous phrase, With all the diffidence of long experience, That oft had practis'd fraud, and oft detected, The vet'ran courtier half reveal'd his project.

By his command, equipp'd for speedy flight, Deep in a winding creek a galley lies, Mann'd with the bravest of our fellow-captives, Selected by my care, a hardy band, That long to hail thee chief.

LEONTIUS.

But what avails So small a force? or, why should Cali fly?

Or, how can Call's flight restore our country?

DEMETRIUS.

Reserve these questions for a safer hour; Or hear himself, for see the ba.s.sa comes.

SCENE II.

DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, CALI.

CALI.

Now summon all thy soul, ill.u.s.trious Christian!

Awake each faculty that sleeps within thee: The courtier's policy, the sage's firmness, The warriour's ardour, and the patriot's zeal.

If, chasing past events with vain pursuit, Or wand'ring in the wilds of future being, A single thought now rove, recall it home.-- But can thy friend sustain the glorious cause, The cause of liberty, the cause of nations?

DEMETRIUS.

Observe him closely, with a statesman's eye, Thou, that hast long perus'd the draughts of nature, And know'st the characters of vice and virtue, Left by the hand of heav'n on human clay.

CALI.

His mien is lofty, his demeanour great; Nor sprightly folly wantons in his air; Nor dull serenity becalms his eyes.

Such had I trusted once, as soon as seen, But cautious age suspects the flatt'ring form, And only credits what experience tells.

Has silence press'd her seal upon his lips?

Does adamantine faith invest his heart?

Will he not bend beneath a tyrant's frown?

Will he not melt before ambition's fire?

Will he not soften in a friend's embrace?

Or flow dissolving in a woman's tears?