Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/392

OSMIR.

No, please your highness, nothing is forgotten.

And by the early dawn——(A mixture of confused distant sounds heard from the city.)

MAHOMET.

What sounds are these?

OSMIR.

Hast thou forgot we are so near the city?

It is the murm'ring night-sounds of her streets.
Which the soft breeze wafts to thine ear, thus softly
Mix'd with the chafings of the distant waves.

MAHOMET (eagerly).

And let me listen too! I love the sound!

Like the last whispers of a dying enemy
It comes to my pleas'd ear. (Listening.)
Spent art thou, proud imperial queen of nations,
And thy last accents are upon the wind.
Thou hast but one voice more to utter; one
Loud, frantic, terrible, and then art thou
Amongst the nations heard no more. List! list!
I like it well! the lion hears afar
Th' approaching prey, and shakes his bridling mane,
And lashes with his tail his tawny sides,
And so hear I this city's nightly sound.

OSMIR.

It is indeed a rich and noble conquest

Which heaven unto its favour'd warrior gives.