Enter Mahomet disguised, followed at a distance by the Vizir.
MAHOMET (alone, after walking thoughtfully from the bottom of the stage, whilst Osmir remains on the back ground).
On that for which my greedy ears still watch.
There's ne'er a Turk, who, o'er his evening pipe,
Will not far rather talk of daring feats
By petty robbers done, than all the fame
And grand achievements of his sov'reign lord.
'Tis cheerless silence all! Dull, stupid race!
They arm them for to-morrow's fight, 'tis true,
With much alacrity, and talk of conquest,
Carnage, and spoils; but for their sultan's name,
The name of Mahomet, thro' all the camp
I've scarcely heard its sound. Nay, once I heard it
In accents harsh pronounc'd, but as to listen
I nearer drew, my steps the speaker fear'd,
And all was into fearful silence hush'd.
Their sultan's name!—Pest seize the stupid slaves!
O, Constantine! it is not thus thy soldiers
Do arm themselves for thee.
Ho, Osmir! art thou near me?
OSMIR (advancing).
MAHOMET.
