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THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN;

A DRAMATIC FRAGMENT*.

CHARACTERS.

Conrad. Malek. Theodore. Calaf. Ghulenda.

SCENE I.-MALEK and CALAF at a Banquet.

CALAF. I pray thee, ask me not-I have no heart For revelry. Oh tell me, pitying tell me,

Is my Ghulenda happy?

MALEK.

Cheer thee, man—

Here's balm for thee. (offers wine)

CAL.
Forbear to tempt me thus-
The maddening juice hath poison for the souls
Of all our tribe-our sacred teacher treads
His pure and austere course to light the way

Of fallible votaries.

*There was a petty prince in Asia, commonly called The old Man of the Mountain, who had acquired such an ascendant over his fanatical subjects, that they paid the most implicit deference to his commands; esteemed assassination meritorious when sanctified by his mandate; courted danger and even certain death in the execution of his orders, and fancied that when they sacrificed their lives for his sake, the highest joys of paradise were the infallible reward of their devoted obedience. It was the custom of this Prince, when he imagined himself injured, to despatch secretly some of his subjects against the aggressor, to charge them with the execution of his revenge; to instruct them in every art of disguising their purpose; and no precaution was sufficient to guard any man, however powerful, against the attempts of these subtle and determined ruffians. The greatest monarchs stood in awe of this Prince of the Assassins, (for that was the name of his people, whence the word has passed into most European languages,) and it was the highest indiscretion in Conrad, Marquis of Montserrat, to offend and affront him.

The inhabitants of Tyre, who were governed by that nobleman, had put to death some of this dangerous people. The Prince demanded satisfaction; for, as he piqued himself in never beginning any offence, he had his regular and established formalities in requiring atonement. Conrad treated his messengers with disdain. The Prince issued the fatal orders. Two of his subjects who had insinuated themselves in disguise among Conrad's guards, openly in the streets of Sidon, wounded him mortally, and when they were seized and put to the most cruel tortures, they triumphed amidst their agonies, and rejoiced that they had been destined by Heaven to suffer in so just and meritorious a cause.- -HUME'S ENGLAND.

Save when the chaste moon shrinks to see his eyes.
Beam on the loose-zoned maids, or gather fires
From brimming cups-his harem tells no tales!

CAL. (starting up) Traitor and liar (sits down) Peace, peace, I see

your purpose;

Sound me not thus-I am no hollow convert.

MAL. Valiant believer-Keep your ready courage,

For greater ends-O brave and credulous heart!

CAL. What mean you, Malek ?-why am I thus mock'd?

Have I not ripen'd in our common faith?

Breath'd I my orisons to the great Spirit

Of the green hills, and ask'd a clearer voice
To speak his truth than our most holy prophet?
Am I not bow'd so humbly to his will,

That' to quit life, and with it quit all happiness
That I might hope to know, would bring no fears
To my devoted soul?

MAL.

O glorious faith!

'T will purify all things! rapine, or secret murder,
Or self-destruction.

CAL.
Bold man, dost thou not tremble?
His all-pervading soul can read the thoughts
That blacken in thy heart.-The silent air
Interprets to his ear; the darkling night
Shines out like noontide to his piercing eye.—

MAL. It may be-but I fear not-we are safe now

A prophet in the sun,- -a mere, mere man

In the curtains of night-Then lips that shame the rose
Are sweet to swear by as the twinkling stars-

Full cups have deeper wisdom in their dregs

Than the unclasp'd Koran.

CAL.

Presumptuous wretch

My heart's blood curdles-and my spirit shrinks
Scar'd at thy blasphemies.

MAL.

Thou art too noble to be sacrificed

At Bigotry's Altar!

CAL.

Unhappy youth,

Stir me not thus-To doubt

Think you, the light

Of natural truth which beam'd upon your soul

In these deep solitudes-and that red glare

Which bow'd you to his bidding, had their source
From the same Heaven?

CAL.

Malek, I will not think.

MAL. The power which bade you strike the poisoned blade

To Conrad's heart; and the Omniscient Spirit

Which held your murderous aim-Are they the same?

CAL. Shake not my brain to madness-righteous Heaven

Instruct me!

MAL.

Wisdom may be learn'd from her

Who taught thee love.

CAL.

Ghulenda? even the smile

Hovering around her lips, like a glad beam

Gilding the crimson clouds, hath wisdom in't!

MAL. She smiles not now as she was wont to smile!
CAL. Oh truth of nature-sure one irksome year

Has not estrang'd her thus from her own heart,

Her glad and innocent heart.

MAL.

Our prophet's mysteries—

CAL.

MAL.

Too much has she read

Hah!

He hath private creeds

The bless'd Mahomed

Rouse me not

For trusting maids, that man may never learn!

CAL. Creeds! what creeds?

MAL.

Was frail when woman tempted!

CAL.

To curse thee, Malek-thy words are serpent stings-
My agony is fearful.—

MAL. A prophet's love is harmless-like the sun
It kisses all, and leaves them chaste, as ice.-

Malek, to jests; answer me this to-morrow.
MAL. You'll know me better then-

Mock me not, Malek.

CAL.
My heart-strings crack for terror-mock me not—
Much have I suffer'd-oh, too much for sport

To leave me hurtless.

MAL.

Shall the harem doors

Unclose to win thee?-Ay-there's choice for kings.
CAL. Flout ou-we 'll reckon for it.

MAL.

Rest on this couch,

Be calm awhile; and I will wake such eyes

As kindle dervise-hearts. Be calm, awhile.

(MALEK unlocks a door in the back Scene, and goes in, closing it after him.)

CAL. I heard him curs'd in Europe-but my sword Had blood for it. They call'd him murderer

O no, it mov'd me not-and yet

I doubted once before-twice-always in sleep

A Prophet's love! Adulteress !

Ghulenda!

My radiant angel-art thou spotted thus ?

On his own altar will I sacrifice him—

Out, out, black blasphemy-can Heaven's own oracle
Be false as Eblis? (pauses.)

Has yon bright orb a God? yea, one of power
And purity. What then should be his prophet-
A minister of power? even so-and pure-

It will not leave me-pure ?-A murderer pure?
A King of murderers? (pauses)

And why not then a gloating sensualist?

(MALEK enters, leading in GHULENDA veiled; closes the door cautiously.)

GHU. (to MALEK) What man is this?

MAL.

Be calm; speak to him soothly

He bears a blessing from the gallant youth
Who woo'd thee for his love.

GHU.

It is his dying benizon.

MAL. (to CALAF)

From Calaf?
(GHULENDA advances.)
Man, rouse thee;

A Lady claims thy courtesy-
CAL.

Comes she to speak,

Of joys or grief-I have no chords of pleasure
In this untunable heart-

GHU.

That voice-that voice

It sounded like the echo of my dreams,-
A voice that's not of earth-

CAL. (rising hesitatingly.) I pray thee-
That form-no, no-I pray thee, gentle lady,
If my Ghulenda-

GHU.

Heaven-'tis he-I thank thee

Calaf, my Calaf. (faints in his arms.)

CAL. Look up, look up-O, cheek, where is thy health

Lips, let me press you-parch'd-parch'd

Shrivell'd like blossoms that a pestilent air
Has wither'd ere they fall-Once radiant eyes
Open not yet to shew the clouds that sin

Has gathered o'er your, brightness-have ye tears,
Repentant tears ?-sweet dews mix with mine own
Ere my brain weep the scalding drops of hate-
Of hate?-of woe-of madness-of revenge,
But not of hate- -(gazes on her.)

GHU. (recovering.) Methought a blessed spirit
Beckoned me-speak, oh, speak. (MALEK retires.)
CAL.
Mine own Ghulenda !

GHU. He told me thou wert dead-I thought thou cam'st

To bear me from this earth.

(rises up.)

Of hope and blessing-we have loved, Ghulenda.

GHU. He told me thou wert dead-'tis false-'tis false.
CAL. Who told thee this? (with anger.)

Oh, name it not,-one look,

GHU.
As thou wert wont to look-forgetful heart-
Do I remember rightly?-sure thy smile
Was sweeter once?

CAL.

The wretched have no smiles;

The weak and guilty smile.

GHU. Oh, hast thou suffered? Let us fly, my Calaf, To our kiosk, where never sorrow came;

And let us dream again that this fair world

Is not the home of sin and misery.

CAL. Dream as we will, the waking time will come. GHU. Madness is here, my Calaf-the dread cry Of guilt is howling round us-save me—save me.

CAL. Malek is right. (aside.) The gracious Scheik protect thee! GHU. Oh, not to him, my Calaf, not to him,

Abandon thy Ghulenda-bear me hence;

He is

CAL. A saint! Oh, thought we thus to meet,
When I rein'd in my hot steed in the vale,
And saw thee stand upon the mountainous crag
Like a bright beam of morning?

Go to the prophet's bed;—a mutter'd prayer
Wipes out the sin-my sword will do the rest.

GHU. Save me from that-oh, save me but from that,
And I will count it happiness to crouch

In the tangled thickets, till my feeble frame.

Shall sink to the chill earth, and as I lie

Wrestling with famine, not a groan shall speak
My body's weakness, for my soul shall triumph
And smile for this deliverance.

CAL.

Poor wretch; These are the grievous penalties of sin,

And deep credulity.

GHU.

I'll break the chains

Of my impious oaths-O, guilty, guilty dupe,

To vow my slavery-but thou art free,

Thou hast not sworn?

CAL.

To give thee to pollution?

That would have broke the spell-I only swore

To be a murderer.

A murderer? (shuddering.)

GHU.
CAL. All here are slaves of cruelty or lust;
We are all sold.

GHU.

Was it for this his praise

Breath'd on our childish ears, while as we grew