Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/383

MAHOMET.

Do it, thou timid slave!

(The guard slightly wounds Othoric's arm with the point of the dagger.)

OTHORIC.

You see it is an arm of flesh and blood;

And so you'll find my body in all parts,
Thrust where you will.—But mark me; wheresoe'er
I rub this band, your weapons have no power.

(Opening his breast and rubbing it with a bracelet which he takes from his arm, at the same time muttering some mystical words to himself.)

Now try if e'er the stoutest arm amongst you,

With pike, or spear, or keenly-temper'd blade,
Can pierce this charmed breast.

MAHOMET (to an Attendant).

Attempt it, brawny slave; thine arm is strong.

(To Osmir.) Give him a stronger weapon.—Now the proof! (The slave receiving a sword from Osmir, runs with full force upon Othoric, who falls down, pierced through the breast and utters a convulsive laugh as he expires.)

RODRIGO (exultingly).

O, bravely done, thou spirit of true proof!