LEONTIUS. 
But what avails
So small a force? or, why should Cali fly? 
Or, how can Call’s flight restore our country?

DEMETRIUS. 
Reserve these questions for a safer hour;
Or hear himself, for see the bassa comes.

SCENE II.

DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, CALI.

CALI. 
Now summon all thy soul, illustrious Christian! 
Awake each faculty that sleeps within thee: 
The courtier’s policy, the sage’s firmness,
The warriour’s ardour, and the patriot’s zeal. 
If, chasing past events with vain pursuit,
Or wand’ring in the wilds of future being,
A single thought now rove, recall it home.—­
But can thy friend sustain the glorious cause,
The cause of liberty, the cause of nations?

DEMETRIUS. 
Observe him closely, with a statesman’s eye,
Thou, that hast long perus’d the draughts of nature,
And know’st the characters of vice and virtue,
Left by the hand of heav’n on human clay.

CALI. 
His mien is lofty, his demeanour great;
Nor sprightly folly wantons in his air;
Nor dull serenity becalms his eyes. 
Such had I trusted once, as soon as seen,
But cautious age suspects the flatt’ring form,
And only credits what experience tells. 
Has silence press’d her seal upon his lips? 
Does adamantine faith invest his heart? 
Will he not bend beneath a tyrant’s frown? 
Will he not melt before ambition’s fire? 
Will he not soften in a friend’s embrace? 
Or flow dissolving in a woman’s tears?

DEMETRIUS. 
Sooner the trembling leaves shall find a voice,
And tell the secrets of their conscious walks;
Sooner the breeze shall catch the flying sounds,
And shock the tyrant with a tale of treason. 
Your slaughter’d multitudes, that swell the shore
With monuments of death, proclaim his courage;
Virtue and liberty engross his soul,
And leave no place for perfidy, or fear.

LEONTIUS. 
I scorn a trust unwillingly repos’d;
Demetrius will not lead me to dishonour;
Consult in private, call me, when your scheme
Is ripe for action, and demands the sword. [Going.

DEMETRIUS. 
Leontius, stay.

CALI. 
Forgive an old man’s weakness,
And share the deepest secrets of my soul,
My wrongs, my fears, my motives, my designs.—­
When unsuccessful wars, and civil factions
Embroil’d the Turkish state, our sultan’s father,
Great Amurath, at my request, forsook
The cloister’s ease, resum’d the tott’ring throne,
And snatch’d the reins of abdicated pow’r
From giddy Mahomet’s unskilful hand. 
This fir’d the youthful king’s ambitious breast: 
He murmurs vengeance, at the name of Cali,
And dooms my rash fidelity to ruin.

DEMETRIUS. 
Unhappy lot of all that shine in courts,
For forc’d compliance, or for zealous virtue,
Still odious to the monarch, or the people.