A prospect of Rhodes beleaguer'd at sea and land by the fleet and army of Solyma
When shall we scape from the delays of Rome?
What from the camp, when no assault is near
His bassas, marking what we do
The Rhodians by your gen'ral sally may
(A shout within, and a noise of forcing of doors.)
Our guards will turn confed'rates with the crowd
They see our strength is hourly less
Why, wise Villerius, had you power to sway
How vainly must I keep mine eyes awake
(A great noise is heard of the people within.)
Their murmurs with their hunger will increase
Your prasctis'd strength no publique burden fears
(A great shout within.)
What sodain pleasure makes the crowd rejoyce?
Of this, grave prince, Ianthe is the cause
If they such gratutude express
We should not any with suspition wound
How far, Ianthe, will these thoughts extend?
(A shout within.)
(Shout agen.)
How long, Ianthe, should I grieve
(A shout within.)
In throngs the longing people wait
Camp of Solyman, the tents and guards seem near, and part of Rhodes at a distance.
None (glorious sultan) can your conquest doubt
Villerius send his homage to your feeet
A second morn begins to break from Rhodes
Of spacious empire, what can I enjoy?
Th'ambassadors of Persia, are they come?
Majestick sultan! at your feet we fall
Ere ill advice shall lead her far, shee'l skorn
What lab'rynth does our sultan mean to tread?
When warlick cities (fair embassadress)
But those who here for peace by treaty look
Is the protection of my pow'r so slight
The town besieg'd.
Dwells not Alphonso in Ianthe's breas
Our foes (great Master) wear the looks of friends.
Would you had met Ianthe there!
Ianthe's lawrels hourly will increase!
Rhodes in her view, her tent within your sight!
Love does Alphonso in a circle lead
The camp.
Think, Haly, think, what I should swiftly do?
Hope, thou grow'st weak, and thou hast been too strong.
Our op'ning buds, and falling blossoms, all
(Mustapha draws a parchment.)
Peruse the dreaded will of anger'd pow'r
Preserve with temper your imperial mind
The town beleaguer'd.
Can Roxolana such a rival bear?
The world salutes you sultan! Ev'ry pow'r
He came disguis'd, who brought your letter here
Behold us, fame, then stay thy flight
Roxolana's rich pavilion; Ianthe sleeping on a couch; Roxolana at one end of it, and Haly at the other; guards of eunuchs are discover'd at the wings of the pavilion.
Your dreadfull will what power can here command
This would in Asia wonderfull appear
Has night lost all her dark dominion here?
You alter ev'ry year the world's known face
Prospect of Rhodes by night, and the grand Master's palace on fire.
Look, Pirrhus, look! what means that sudden light
Their flagg of treaty they have taken in!
Speak both of killing and of saving too
(A symphony expressing a battail is play'd awhile.)
More horse! more horse, to shake their ranks!
Morat and valiant Zangiban are slain
More pikes! and pass the French! fall in! fall in!
(A symphony sounds a battail again.)
The town besieg'd.
Send back! send back! to quench our fatal fire!
Let us no more the Rhodians' flight pursue
The Rhodians will no more in arms appear
Your bosom-slave, the crature which your pow'r
But, Haly, know, the fair Ianthe must
Roxolana's pavilion.
How fares my rival, the Sicilian flower?
Now his departing life may stay
Fate holds your dice; and here expect the cast
My doom contains not much diversity
Death does to heav'n the virtuous lead
Haly, I did declare that I would see