Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/390

OSMIR.

Yes, sultan; and I find your Mussulmen

Their arms preparing for to-morrow's battle,
Beneath your royal standard most determin'd
To conquer or to die.
They under your approving eye will fight,
As in the sunshine of propitious heaven.

MAHOMET.

Yes, I am in their minds full truly grown

A thing of gen'ral attributes compos'd—
A heaven of sunshine or of lowering storms:
But as a man and leader, in whom live
The mental and corporeal qualities
Of Mahomet——Pest seize the stupid slaves!

Enter Petronius and Marthon, muffled up in cloaks.

But who comes here? twice on my rounds already

Those men have cross'd me: am I known to them?
By the great Prophet they shall bear their secret
Where secrets are secure!—Ho! stop slaves there!

Stop, in the sultan's name! (Running upon them furiously and lifting his scimitar over the head of Petronius, who immediately discovers himself.)

PETRONIUS (discovering himself).

Crush not a worm, my lord.

MAHOMET.

A worm indeed! What treason brings ye here,