He’s gone—­Here rest, my soul, thy fainting wing;
Here recollect thy dissipated pow’rs.—­
Our distant int’rests, and our diff’rent passions. 
Now haste to mingle in one common centre. 
And fate lies crowded in a narrow space. 
Yet, in that narrow space what dangers rise!—­
Far more I dread Abdalla’s fiery folly,
Than all the wisdom of the grave divan. 
Reason with reason fights on equal terms;
The raging madman’s unconnected schemes
We cannot obviate, for we cannot guess. 
Deep in my breast be treasur’d this resolve,
When Cali mounts the throne, Abdalla dies,
Too fierce, too faithless, for neglect or trust.

[Enter Irene with attendants.

SCENE VII.

CALI, IRENE, ASPASIA, &c.

CALI. 
Amidst the splendour of encircling beauty,
Superiour majesty proclaims thee queen,
And nature justifies our monarch’s choice.

IRENE. 
Reserve this homage for some other fair;
Urge me not on to glitt’ring guilt, nor pour
In my weak ear th’ intoxicating sounds.

CALI. 
Make haste, bright maid, to rule the willing world;
Aw’d by the rigour of the sultan’s justice,
We court thy gentleness.

  ASPASIA. 
                        Can Cali’s voice
Concur to press a hapless captive’s ruin?

CALI. 
Long would my zeal for Mahomet and thee
Detain me here.  But nations call upon me,
And duty bids me choose a distant walk,
Nor taint with care the privacies of love.

SCENE VIII.

IRENE, ASPASIA, attendants.

ASPASIA. 
If yet this shining pomp, these sudden honours,
Swell not thy soul, beyond advice or friendship,
Nor yet inspire the follies of a queen,
Or tune thine ear to soothing adulation,
Suspend awhile the privilege of pow’r,
To hear the voice of truth; dismiss thy train,
Shake off th’ incumbrances of state, a moment,
And lay the tow’ring sultaness aside,

Irene signs to her attendants to retire.

While I foretell thy fate:  that office done,—­
No more I boast th’ ambitious name of friend,
But sink among thy slaves, without a murmur.

IRENE. 
Did regal diadems invest my brow,
Yet should my soul, still faithful to her choice,
Esteem Aspasia’s breast the noblest kingdom.

ASPASIA. 
The soul, once tainted with so foul a crime,
No more shall glow with friendship’s hallow’d ardour: 
Those holy beings, whose superiour care
Guides erring mortals to the paths of virtue,
Affrighted at impiety, like thine,
Resign their charge to baseness and to ruin[a].

[a] In the original copy of this tragedy, given to Mr. Langton, the
     above speech is as follows; and, in Mr. Boswell’s judgment, is
     finer than in the present editions: