A DRAMATIC SCENE.

THROW up the casement.

ZINGHA.

Draw the curtains' folds,

And let the evening sunlight in. In sooth
The air comes balmy from yon spicy grove,
We'll hope it bears some gentle messenger
To drive away the sadness from those eyes

That hold the world in chains. Our sweet Sultana!
Look on those white and sunny palaces

O'ertopped with palmy leaves, and wreathing flowers, And say if she, the sovereign over all,

Should not be ever glad?

NOURJEHAN.

I have no heart to stay thee.

Minion, prate on;

ZINGHA.

What means this?

Your brow is clouded, and methinks, a frown
Would strive to hide itself betwixt your eyes,

If it might dare as yet to venture on
A spot unfrequented by such dark guests.
It will be bolder soon. What has occurred?
Has Lilla slighted your command to keep
Your arbor from the tread of feet profane?
Hath Kailyal let your flowers fade i' the sun,
Or plucked untimely buds? Or aught befallen
The golden fishes, which with princely care
Your noble hand hath fed, that the World's Light*
Should waste itself in gloom?

Nourjehan signifies Light of the World.

NOURJEHAN.

No-none of these.

ZINGHA.

Or hath the lordly Jehanguire

NOURJEHAN.

Hush-hush!

A

ZINGHA.

Nay-well I know our royal master loves you,
As the oak loves the sunshine. What if now
Absorbed perchanoe by cares of state-his step
Is heard less often in your rich pavilion?
What if he call not on your name, as erst
He did?—he loves you ne'ertheless

NOURJEHAN.

Be silent!

Slave! what is 't to thee?

Who said I grieved,

Or craved his presence? What is it to thee
How oft he comes?— Or if, perhaps, I choose

To wear a pensive aspect-or to bid

My lord be absent for a time-must thou!
-Why weep'st thou, malapert?

Some mournful legend would suit better now
Thy mood and mine. Bid Rezia hither.

REZIA.

Lady,

Thy slave obeys. I have a tale, pertains

Unto these very gardens, of old time,

When those tall ancient trees were slender shafts,

And those bright fountains had not learned to spout

Fresh from their marble basins.

The legend of the Jewess?

I heard it in my childhood.

But as a grandsire's story.

You remember

NOURJEHAN.

As a dream;

ZINGHA.

It was told,

She was loved,

'Tis said, by one of royal Selim's line,

None e'er knew whence she came. One day the slaves

Of the great Emperor, wandering in his gardens,

Saw her beside a fount; beneath the shade

She sate, so bright and beautiful, they deemed her

One of those houris who in Paradise

Wreathe their fair brows with sunbeams. They conveyed her

A willing captive, to the sovereign's throne;

O'er whom, e'en from that hour, she only reigned.

REZIA.

Yes, but mysterious as her coming was,
"T was not more wondrous than the influence
Of her strange beauty on the monarch's heart.
She often played the suppliant; yet did seem
Whene'er she sued, her words so like command,
Though soft and thrilling, that his will was bowed
Even in his own despite. Her dark rich eyes
Were never motionless, but glanced on all

Oftimes with light so sad, so very sad,

You would have thought she pined with secret wo;

Yet other glances had she for her lord.

When none observed-the fascinating gaze

Wherewith the serpent wins his guileless prey;
The look of scornful triumph, as she saw

His nature quail before her own.

NOURJEHAN (sighing).

He loved,

And therefore was a slave!

REZIA.

Ay, changed indeed

Their state; she was the sovereign—he the slave;
And like a fiend she used her power. She moved
Her lord to murder all his haram.

One

By one the innocent victims were devoted
To an inhuman death. Each morn the Jewess

Sate at her casement, and beheld the sack

That held some living sufferer sink beneath

The bubbling waters; clasped her snowy hands

In exultation, while her glorious eyes

Flashed forth redoubled fire. There was one maiden
Within the fatal walls, whose life the king
Would fain have saved. She was divine!
Her fair cheek wore the rose's freshest tint-
Her locks were of the palest gold; her eyes
So blue and lovely, you might think the heaven
They imaged dwelt within them. Nay-'t was said
When those mild eyes beamed fondly on the monarch,
Their soft light could dissolve the hateful spell,
His thraldom to the Jewess; and he breathed
Freely and spoke of gentler things; but soon
The sorceress resumed her sway.

Alas! the murderess triumphed!

Yet rued she long that victory. The young girl,

Like all the rest, was thrown into the sea.
Her struggles burst the sack; she rose and floated