CHAP. XI.

ALMORAN had now reached the gallery; and when the mul⯑titude ſaw him, they ſhouted as in tri⯑umph, and demanded that he ſhould ſurrender. HAMET, who alſo perceived him at a diſtance, and was unwilling that any violence ſhould be offered to [2] his perſon, preſſed forward, and when he was come near, commanded ſilence. At this moment ALMORAN, with a loud voice, reproached them with im⯑piety and folly; and appealing to the power, whom in his perſon they had offended, the air ſuddenly grew dark, a flood of lightning deſcended from the ſky, and a peal of thunder was ar⯑ticulated into theſe words:

The multitude ſtood aghaſt at the prodigy; and hiding their faces with their hands, every one departed in ſi⯑lence and confuſion, and HAMET and OMAR were left alone. OMAR was taken by ſome of the ſoldiers who had [3] adhered to ALMORAN, but HAMET made his eſcape.

ALMORAN, whoſe wiſhes were thus far accompliſhed by the intervention of a power ſuperior to his own, exulted in the anticipation of that happineſs which he now ſuppoſed to be ſecured; and was fortified in his opinion, that he had been wretched only becauſe he had been weak, and that to multiply and not to ſuppreſs his wiſhes was the way to acquire felicity.

As he was returning from the gallery, he was met by Oſmyn and Caled, who had heard the ſupernatural declaration in his behalf, and learned its effects. ALMORAN, in that haſty flow of un⯑bounded but capricious favour, which, [4] in contracted minds, is the effect only of unexpected good fortune, raiſed Oſmyn from his feet to his boſom: 'As in the trial,' ſaid he, ‘thou haſt been faithful, I now inveſt thee with a ſuperior truſt. The toils of ſtate ſhall from this moment devolve upon thee; and from this moment, the delights of empire unallayed ſhall be mine: I will recline at eaſe, re⯑mote from every eye but thoſe that reflect my own felicity; the felicity that I ſhall taſte in ſecret, ſurround⯑ed by the ſmiles of beauty, and the gaities of youth. Like heaven, I will reign unſeen; and like heaven, though unſeen, I will be adored.’ Oſmyn received this delegation of power with a tumultuous pleaſure, that was expreſſed only by ſilence and con⯑fuſion. [5] ALMORAN remarked it; and exulting in the pride of power, he ſud⯑denly changed his aſpect, and regard⯑ing Oſmyn, who was yet bluſhing, and whoſe eyes were ſwimming in tears of gratitude, with a ſtern and ardent coun⯑tenance; 'Let me, however,' ſaid he, ‘warn thee to be watchful in thy truſt: beware, that no rude commotion vio⯑late my peace by thy fault; leſt my anger ſweep thee in a moment to de⯑ſtruction.’ He then directed his eye to Caled: 'And thou too,' ſaid he, ‘haſt been faithful; be thou next in honour and in power to Oſmyn. Guard both of you my paradiſe from dread and care; fulfill the duty that I have aſſigned you, and live.’

[6] He was then informed by a meſſen⯑ger, that HAMET had eſcaped, and that OMAR was taken. As he now deſpiſed the power both of HAMET and OMAR, he expreſſed neither concern nor anger that HAMET had fled; but he ordered OMAR to be brought be⯑fore him.

When OMAR appeared bound and diſarmed, he regarded him with a ſmile of inſult and deriſion; and aſked him, what he had now to hope. ‘I have, indeed,’ ſaid OMAR, ‘much leſs to hope, than thou haſt to fear.’ ‘Thy inſolence,’ ſaid ALMORAN, ‘is equal to thy folly: what power on earth is there, that I ſhould fear?’ ‘Thy own,’ ſaid OMAR. ‘I have not lei⯑ſure now,’ replied ALMORAN, ‘to [7] hear the paradoxes of thy philoſophy explained: but to ſhew thee, that I fear not thy power, thou ſhalt live. I will leave thee to hopeleſs regret; to wiles that have been ſcorned and defeated; to the unheeded pe⯑tulance of dotage; to the fondneſs that is repayed with neglect; to reſt⯑leſs wiſhes, to credulous hopes, and to derided command: to the ſlow and complicated torture of deſpiſed old age; and that, when thou ſhalt long have abhorred thy being, ſhall deſtroy it.’ 'The miſery,' ſaid OMAR, ‘which thou haſt menaced, it is not in thy power to inflict. As thou haſt taken from me all that I poſſeſſed by the bounty of thy father, it is true that I am poor; it is true alſo, that my knees are now feeble, and [8] bend with the weight of years that is upon me. I am, as thou art, a man; and therefore I have erred: but I have ſtill kept the narrow path in view with a faithful vigilance, and to that I have ſoon returned: the paſt, therefore, I do not regret; and the fu⯑ture I have no cauſe to fear. In Him who is moſt merciful, I have hope; and in that hope even now I rejoice before thee. My portion in the pre⯑ſent hour, is adverſity: but I receive it, not only with humility, but thank⯑fulneſs; for I know, that whatever is ordained is beſt.’

ALMORAN, in whoſe heart there were no traces of OMAR'S virtue, and therefore no foundation for his confi⯑dence; ſuſtained himſelf againſt their [9] force, by treating them as hypocriſy and affectation: 'I know,' ſays he, ‘that thou haſt long learned to eccho the ſpecious and pompous ſounds, by which hypocrites conceal their wretch⯑edneſs, and excite the admiration of folly and the contempt of wiſdom: yet thy walk in this place, ſhall be ſtill unreſtrained. Here the ſplendor of my felicity ſhall fill thy heart with envy, and cover thy face with con⯑fuſion; and from thee ſhall the world be inſtructed, that the enemies of ALMORAN can move no paſſion in his breaſt but contempt, and that moſt to puniſh them is to permit them to live.’

OMAR, whoſe eye had till now been fixed upon the ground, regarded AL⯑MORAN [10] with a calm but ſteady counte⯑nance: 'Here then,' ſaid he, ‘will I follow thee, conſtant as thy ſhadow; tho’, as thy ſhadow, ‘unnoticed or ne⯑glected: here ſhall mine eye watch thoſe evils, that were appointed from everlaſting to attend upon guilt: and here ſhall my voice warn thee of their approach. From thy breaſt may they be averted by righteouſneſs! for without this, though all the worlds that roll above thee ſhould, to aid thee, unite all their power, that power can aid thee only to be wretched.’

ALMORAN, in all the pride of gra⯑tified ambition, inveſted with domi⯑nion that had no limits, and allied with powers that were more than mor⯑tal; [11] was overawed by this addreſs, and his countenance grew pale. But the next moment, diſdaining to be thus controuled by the voice of a ſlave, his cheeks were ſuffuſed with the bluſhes of indignation: he turned from OMAR, in ſcorn, anger, and confuſion, without reply; and OMAR departed with the calm dignity of a benevolent and ſupe⯑rior being, to whom the ſmiles and frowns of terreſtrial tyranny were alike indifferent, and in whom abhorrence of the turpitude of vice was mingled with compaſſion for its folly.

CHAP. XII.

IN the mean time, ALMEIDA, who had been conveyed to an apart⯑ment in ALMORAN's ſeraglio, and de⯑livered to the care of thoſe who attend⯑ed upon his women, ſuffered all that grief and terror could inflict upon a ge⯑nerous, a tender, and a delicate mind; yet in this complicated diſtreſs, her at⯑tention was principally fixed upon HAMET. The diſappointment of his hope, and the violation of his right, were the chief objects of her regret and her fears, in all that had already happened, and in all that was ſtill to come; every inſult that might be of⯑fered [13] to herſelf, ſhe conſidered as an injury to him. Yet the thoughts of all that he might ſuffer in her perſon, gave way to her apprehenſions of what might befall him in his own: in his ſi⯑tuation, every calamity that her imagi⯑nation could conceive, was poſſible; her thoughts were, therefore, bewil⯑dered amidſt an endleſs variety of dreadful images, which ſtarted up be⯑fore them which way ſoever they were turned; and it was impoſſible that ſhe could gain any certain intelligence of his fate, as the ſplendid priſon in which ſhe was now confined, was ſurrounded by mutes and eunuchs, of whom no⯑thing could be learned, or in whoſe re⯑port no confidence could be placed.

[14] While her mind was in this ſtate of agitation and diſtreſs, ſhe perceived the door open, and the next mo⯑ment ALMORAN entered the apartment. When ſhe ſaw him, ſhe turned from him with a look of unutterable an⯑guiſh; and hiding her face in her veil, ſhe burſt into tears. The tyrant was moved with her diſtreſs; for unfeel⯑ing obduracy is the vice only of the old, whoſe ſenſibility has been worn away by the habitual perpetration of reiterated wrongs.

He approached her with looks of kindneſs, and his voice was involun⯑tarily modulated to pity; ſhe was, however, too much abſorbed in her own ſorrows, to reply. He gazed upon her with tenderneſs and admira⯑tion; [15] and taking her hand into his own, he preſſed it ardently to his bo⯑ſom: his compaſſion ſoon kindled into deſire, and from ſoothing her diſtreſs, he began to ſolicit her love. This in⯑ſtantly rouſed her attention, and re⯑ſentment now ſuſpended her grief: ſhe turned from him with a firm and haughty ſtep, and inſtead of anſwer⯑ing his profeſſions, reproached him with her wrongs. ALMORAN, that he might at once addreſs her virtue and her paſ⯑ſions, obſerved, that though he had lov⯑ed her from the firſt moment he had ſeen her, yet he had concealed his paſſion even from her, till it had received the ſanction of an inviſible and ſuperior pow⯑er; that he came, therefore, the meſ⯑ſenger of heaven; and that he offered her unrivalled empire and everlaſting [16] love. To this ſhe anſwered only by an impatient and fond enquiry after HAMET. 'Think not of HAMET,' ſaid ALMORAN; ‘for why ſhould he who is rejected of Heaven, be ſtill the fa⯑vourite of ALMEIDA?’ 'If thy hand,' ſaid ALMEIDA, ‘could quench in everlaſting darkneſs, that vital ſpark of intellectual fire, which the word of the Almighty has kindled in my breaſt to burn for ever, then might ALMEIDA ceaſe to think of HAMET; but while that ſhall live, whatever form it ſhall inhabit, or in whatever world it ſhall reſide, his image ſhall be for ever preſent, and to him ſhall my love be for ever true.’ This glowing declaration of her love for HA⯑MET, was immediately ſucceeded by a tender anxiety for his ſafety; and a ſud⯑den [17] reflection upon the probability of his death, and the danger of his ſitua⯑tion if alive, threw her again into tears.

ALMORAN, whom the ardour and impetuoſity of her paſſions kept ſome⯑times ſilent, and ſometimes threw into confuſion, again attempted to ſooth and comfort her: ſhe often urged him to tell her what was become of his bro⯑ther, and he as often evaded the queſ⯑tion. As ſhe was about to renew her enquiry, and reflected that it had al⯑ready been often made, and had not yet been anſwered, ſhe thought that AL⯑MORAN had already put him to death: this threw her into a new agony, of which he did not immediately diſcover the cauſe; but as he ſoon learned it from [18] her reproaches and exclamations, he perceived that he could not hope to be heard, while ſhe was in doubt about the ſafety of HAMET. In order, there⯑fore, to ſooth her mind, and pre⯑vent its being longer poſſeſſed with an image that excluded every other; he aſſumed a look of concern and aſtoniſh⯑ment at the imputation of a crime, which was at once ſo horrid and ſo un⯑neceſſary. After a ſolemn deprecation of ſuch enormous guilt, he obſerved, that as it was now impoſſible for HA⯑MET to ſucceed as his rival, either in empire or in love, without the breach of a command, which he knew his vir⯑tue would implicitly obey; he had no motive either to deſire his death, or to reſtrain his liberty: 'His walk,' ſays he, ‘is ſtill uncircumſcribed in [19] Perſia; and except this chamber, there is no part of the palace to which he is not admitted.’

To this declaration ALMEIDA liſt⯑ened, as to the muſic of paradiſe; and it ſuſpended for a-while every paſſion, but her love: the ſudden eaſe of her mind made her regardleſs of all about her, and ſhe had in this interval ſuffered ALMORAN to remove her veil, without reflecting upon what he was doing. The moment ſhe recollected herſelf, ſhe made a gentle effort to recover it, with ſome confuſion, but without an⯑ger. The pleaſure that was expreſſed in her eyes, the bluſh that glowed up⯑on her cheek, and the conteſt about the veil, which to an amorous imagina⯑tion had an air of dalliance, concurred [20] to heighten the paſſion of ALMORAN almoſt to phrenſy: ſhe perceived her danger in his looks, and her ſpirits in⯑ſtantly took the alarm. He ſeized her hand, and gazing ardently upon her, he conjured her, with a tone and em⯑phaſis that ſtrongly expreſſed the tu⯑multuous vehemence of his wiſhes, that ſhe would renounce the rites which had been forbidden above, and that ſhe would receive him to whom by mi⯑racle ſhe had been alloted.

ALMEIDA, whom the manner and voice of ALMORAN had terrified into ſilence, anſwered him at firſt only with a look that expreſſed averſion and diſ⯑dain, over-awed by fear. ‘Wilt thou not,’ ſaid ALMORAN, ‘fulfill the decrees of Heaven? I conjure thee, [21] by Heaven, to anſwer.’ From this ſolemn reference to Heaven, ALMEI⯑DA derived new fortitude: ſhe in⯑ſtantly recollected, that ſhe ſtood in the preſence of Him, by whoſe per⯑miſſion only every other power, whe⯑ther viſible or inviſible, can diſpenſe evil or good: 'Urge no more,' ſaid ſhe, ‘as the decree of Heaven, that which is inconſiſtent with Divine per⯑fection. Can He, in whoſe hand my heart is, command me to wed the man whom he has not enabled me to love? Can the Pure, the Juſt, the Merciful, have ordained that I ſhould ſuffer embraces which I loath, and violate vows which His laws per⯑mitted me to make? Can He have ordained a perfidious, a love⯑leſs, and a joyleſs proſtitution? What [22] if a thouſand prodigies ſhould con⯑cur to enforce it a thouſand times, the deed itſelf would be a ſtronger proof that thoſe prodigies were the works of darkneſs, than thoſe prodi⯑gies that the deed was commanded by the Father of light.’

ALMORAN, whoſe hopes were now blaſted to the root, who perceived that the virtue of ALMEIDA could neither be deceived nor overborne; that ſhe at once contemned his power, and ab⯑horred his love; gave way to all the furies of his mind, which now ſlum⯑bered no more: his countenance ex⯑preſſed at once anger, indignation, and deſpair; his geſture became furious, and his voice was loſt in menaces and execrations. ALMEIDA beheld him [23] with an earneſt yet ſteady countenance, till he vowed to revenge the indignity he had ſuffered, upon HAMET. At the name of HAMET, her fortitude for⯑ſook her; the pride of virtue gave way to the ſoftneſs of love; her cheeks be⯑came pale, her lips trembled, and tak⯑ing hold of the robe of ALMORAN, ſhe threw herſelf at his feet. His fury was at firſt ſuſpended by hope and ex⯑pectation; but when from her words, which grief and terror had rendered ſcarce articulate, he could learn only that ſhe was pleading for HAMET, he burſt from her in an extaſy of rage; and forcing his robe from her hand, with a violence that dragged her after it, he ruſhed out of the chamber, and left her proſtrate upon the ground.

[24] As he paſſed through the gallery with a haſty and diſordered pace, he was ſeen by OMAR; who knowing that he was returned from an interview with ALMEIDA, and conjecturing from his appearance what had happened, judged that he ought not to neglect this opportunity to warn him once more of the deluſive phantoms, which, under the appearance of pleaſure, were lead⯑ing him to deſtruction: he, therefore, followed him unperceived, till he had reached the apartment in which he had been uſed to retire alone, and heard again the loud and tumultuous excla⯑mations, which were wrung from his heart by the anguiſh of diſappoint⯑ment: 'What have I gained,' ſaid he, ‘by abſolute dominion! The ſlave who, ſecluded from the gales of life [25] and from the light of heaven, toils without hope in the darkneſs of the mine, riots in the delights of para⯑diſe compared with me. By the ca⯑price of one woman, I am robbed not only of enjoyment but of peace, and condemned for ever to the tor⯑ment of unſatisfied deſire.’

OMAR, who was impatient to ap⯑prize him that he was not alone, and to prevent his diſcloſing ſentiments which he wiſhed to conceal, now threw himſelf upon the ground at his feet. 'Preſumptuous ſlave!' ſaid ALMO⯑RAN, ‘from whence, and wherefore art thou come?’ 'I am come,' ‘ſaid OMAR, to tell thee that not the ca⯑price of a woman, but the wiſhes of ALMORAN, have made ALMORAN [26] wretched.’ The king, ſtung with the reproach, drew back, and with a fu⯑rious look laid his hand upon his poig⯑nard; but was immediately reſtrained from drawing it, by his pride. ‘I am come,’ ſaid OMAR, ‘to repeat that truth, upon which, great as thou art, thy fate is ſuſpended. Thy power extends not to the mind of another; exert it, therefore, upon thy own: ſuppreſs the wiſhes, which thou canſt not fulfill; and ſecure the happineſs that is within thy reach.’

ALMORAN, who could bear no lon⯑ger to hear the precepts which he diſ⯑dained to practiſe, ſternly commanded OMAR to depart: 'Be gone,' ſaid he, ‘leſt I cruſh thee like a noiſome rep⯑tile, which men cannot but abhor, [27] though it is too contemptible to be feared.’ 'I go,' ſaid OMAR, ‘that my warning voice may yet again re⯑call thee to the path of wiſdom and of peace, if yet again I ſhall behold thee while it is to be found.’

CHAP. XIII.

ALMORAN was now left alone; and throwing himſelf upon a ſofa, he ſat ſome time motionleſs and ſilent, as if all his faculties had been ſuſpended in the ſtupefaction of deſpair. He revolved in his mind the wiſhes that had been gratified, and the happi⯑neſs of which he had been diſappoint⯑ed: 'I deſired,' ſaid he, ‘the pomp and power of undivided dominion; and HAMET was driven from the throne which he ſhared with me, by a voice from heaven: I deſired to break off his marriage with ALMEI⯑DA; and it was broken off by a pro⯑digy, [29] when no human power could have accompliſhed my deſire. It was my wiſh alſo to have the perſon of ALMEIDA in my power, and this wiſh alſo has been gratified; yet I am ſtill wretched. But I am wretched, only becauſe the means have not been ade⯑quate to the end: what I have hi⯑therto obtained, I have not deſired for itſelf; and of that, for which I deſired it, I am not poſſeſſed: I am, therefore, ſtill wretched, becauſe I am weak. With the ſoul of ALMO⯑RAN, I ſhould have the form of HA⯑MET: then my wiſhes would indeed be filled; then would ALMEIDA bleſs me with conſenting beauty, and the ſplendor of my power ſhould diſtin⯑guiſh only the intervals of my love; my enjoyments would then be certain [30] and permanent, neither blaſted by diſappointment, nor withered by ſa⯑tiety.’ When he had uttered theſe reflections with the utmoſt vehemence and agitation, his face was again ob⯑ſcured by gloom and deſpair; his poſ⯑ture was again fixed; and he was fall⯑ing back into his former ſtate of ſilent abſtraction, when he was ſuddenly rouſed by the appearance of the Ge⯑nius, the ſincerity of whoſe friend⯑ſhip he began to diſtruſt.

'ALMORAN,' ſaid the Genius, ‘if thou art not yet happy, know that my powers are not yet exhauſted: fear me not, but let thine ear be at⯑tentive to my voice.’ The Genius then ſtretched out his hand towards him, in which there was an emerald of [31] great luſtre, cut into a figure that had four and twenty ſides, on each of which was engraven a different letter. ‘Thou ſeeſt,’ ſaid he, ‘this taliſman: on each ſide of it is engraven one of thoſe myſterious characters, of which are formed all the words of all the languages that are ſpoken by angels, genii, and men. This ſhall enable thee to change thy figure: and what, under the form of ALMORAN, thou canſt not accompliſh; thou ſhalt ſtill be able to effect, if it can be effected by thee, in the form of any other. Point only to the letters that com⯑poſe the name of him whoſe appear⯑ance thou wouldſt aſſume, and it is done. Remember only, that upon him, whoſe appearance thou ſhall aſ⯑ſume, thine ſhall be impreſt, till thou [32] reſtoreſt his own. Hide the charm in thy boſom, and avail thyſelf of its power.’ ALMORAN received the ta⯑liſman in a tranſport of gratitude and joy, and the Genius immediately diſ⯑appeared.

The uſe of this taliſman was ſo ob⯑vious, that it was impoſſible to overlook it. ALMORAN inſtantly conceived the deſign with which it was given, and determined inſtantly to put it in exe⯑cution: 'I will now,' ſaid he, ‘aſ⯑ſume the figure of HAMET; and my love, in all its ardour, ſhall be return⯑ed by ALMEIDA.’ As his fancy kind⯑led at the anticipation of his happineſs, he ſtood muſing in a pleaſing ſuſpenſe, and indulged himſelf in the contem⯑plation of the ſeveral gradations, by [33] which he ſhould aſcend to the ſummit of his wiſhes.

Juſt at this moment, Oſmyn, whom he had commanded to attend him at this hour, approached his apartment: AL⯑MORAN was rouſed by the ſound of his foot, and ſuppoſed it to be OMAR, who had again intruded upon his privacy; he was enraged at the interruption which had broken a ſeries of imagina⯑tions ſo flattering and luxurious; he ſnatched out his poignard, and lifting up his arm for the ſtroke, haſtily turn⯑ed round to have ſtabbed him; but ſeeing Oſmyn, he diſcovered his miſtake juſt in time to prevent the blow.

Oſmyn, who was not conſcious of any crime, nor indeed of any act that [34] could have given occaſion of offence; ſtarted back terrified and amazed, and ſtood trembling in ſuſpenſe whe⯑ther to remain or to withdraw. ALMO⯑RAN, in the mean time, ſheathed the inſtrument of death, and bid him fear nothing, for he ſhould not be hurt. He then turned about; and putting his hand to his forehead, ſtood again ſilent in a muſing poſture: he recol⯑lected, that if he aſſumed the figure of HAMET, it was neceſſary he ſhould give orders for HAMET to be admitted to ALMEIDA, as he would otherwiſe be excluded by the delegates of his own authority; turning, therefore, to Oſmyn, 'Remember,' ſaid he, ‘that whenever HAMET ſhall return, it is my command, that he be admitted to ALMEIDA.’

[35] Oſmyn, who was pleaſed with an opportunity of recommending himſelf to ALMORAN, by praiſing an act of ge⯑nerous virtue which he ſuppoſed him now to exert in favour of his brother, received the command with a look, that expreſſed not only approbation but joy: 'Let the ſword of deſtruction,' ſaid he, ‘be the guard of the tyrant; the ſtrength of my lord ſhall be the bonds of love: thoſe, who honour thee as ALMORAN, ſhall rejoice in thee as the friend of HAMET.’ To ALMORAN, who was conſcious to no kindneſs for his brother, the praiſe of Oſmyn was a reproach: he was offend⯑ed at the joy which he ſaw kindled in his countenance, by a command to ſhew favour to HAMET; and was fired [36] with ſudden rage at that condemnation of his real conduct, which was implied by an encomium on the generoſity of which he aſſumed the appearance for a malevolent and perfidious purpoſe: his brow was contracted, his lip quivered, and the hilt of his dagger was again graſped in his hand. Oſmyn was again overwhelmed with terror and confuſion; he had again offended, but knew not his offence. In the mean time, ALMORAN recollecting that to expreſs diſpleaſure againſt Oſmyn was to betray his own ſecret, endeavoured to ſuppreſs his an⯑ger; but his anger was ſucceeded by remorſe, regret, and diſappointment. The anguiſh of his mind broke out in imperfect murmurs: 'What I am, ſaid he, ‘is, to this wretch, the object not only of hatred but of ſcorn; and [37] he commends only what I am not, in what to him I would ſeem to be.’

Theſe ſounds, which, tho' not arti⯑culate, were yet uttered with great emotion, were ſtill miſtaken by Oſ⯑myn for the overflowings of capricious and cauſeleſs anger: 'My life,' ſays he to himſelf, ‘is even now ſuſpend⯑ed in a doubtful balance. When⯑ever I approach this tyrant, I tread the borders of deſtruction: like a hood-winked wretch, who is left to wander near the brink of a precipice, I know my danger; but which way ſoever I turn, I know not whether I ſhall incur or avoid it.’

In theſe reflections, did the ſove⯑reign and the ſlave paſs thoſe moments, [38] in which the ſovereign intended to ren⯑der the ſlave ſubſervient to his pleaſure or his ſecurity, and the ſlave intended to expreſs a zeal which he really felt, and a homage which his heart had al⯑ready paid. Oſmyn was at length, however, diſmiſſed with an aſſurance, that all was well; and ALMORAN was again left to reflect with anguiſh upon the paſt, to regret the preſent, and to anticipate the future with ſolicitude, anxiety, and perturbation.

He was, however, determined to aſ⯑ſume the figure of his brother, by the taliſman which had been put into his power by the Genius: but juſt as he was about to form the ſpell, he re⯑collected, that by the ſame act he would impreſs his own likeneſs upon HAMET, [39] who would conſequently be inveſted with his power, and might uſe it to his deſtruction. This held him ſome time in ſuſpenſe: but reflecting that HA⯑MET might not, perhaps, be apprized of his advantage, till it was too late to improve it; that he was now a fugi⯑tive, and probably alone, leaving Per⯑ſia behind him with all the ſpeed he could make; and that, at the worſt, if he ſhould be ſtill near, if he ſhould know the transformation as ſoon as it ſhould be made, and ſhould inſtantly take the moſt effectual meaſures to im⯑prove it; yet as he could diſſolve the charm in a moment, whenever it ſhould be neceſſary for his ſafety, no formi⯑dable danger could be incurred by the experiment, to which he, therefore, proceeded without delay.

CHAP. XIV.

IN the mean time, HAMET, to whom his own ſafety was of no importance but for the ſake of ALMEIDA, reſolved, if poſſible, to conceal himſelf near the city. Having, therefore, reached the confines of the deſert, by which it was bounded on the eaſt, he quitted his horſe, and determined to remain there till the multitude was diſperſed, and the darkneſs of the evening might con⯑ceal his return, when in leſs than an hour he could reach the palace.

He ſat down at the foot of the mountain Kabeſſed, without conſider⯑ing, [41] that in this place he was moſt like⯑ly to be found, as thoſe who travel the deſert ſeldom fail to enter the cave that winds its way under the mountain, to drink of the water that iſſues there from a clear and copious ſpring.

He reviewed the ſcenes of the day that was now nearly paſſed, with a mixture of aſtoniſhment and diſtreſs, to which no deſcription can be equal. The ſudden and amazing change that a few hours had made in his ſituation, appeared like a wild and diſtreſsful dream, from which he almoſt doubted whether he ſhould not wake to the power and the felicity that he had loſt. He ſat ſome time bewildered in the hurry and multiplicity of his thoughts, and at length burſt out into paſſionate [42] exclamations: 'What,' ſays he, ‘and where am I? Am I, indeed, HA⯑MET; that ſon of Solyman who di⯑vided the dominion of Perſia with his brother, and who poſſeſſed the love of ALMEIDA alone? Dreadful viciſſitude! I am now an outcaſt, friendleſs and forlorn; without an aſ⯑ſociate, and without a dwelling: for me the cup of adverſity overflows, and the laſt dregs of ſorrow have been wrung out for my portion: the powers not only of the earth, but of the air, have combined againſt me; and how can I ſtand alone be⯑fore them? But is there no power that will interpoſe in my behalf? If He, who is ſupreme, is good, I ſhall not periſh. But wherefore am I thus? Why ſhould the deſires of vice be [43] accompliſhed by ſuperior powers; and why ſhould ſuperior powers be permitted to diſappoint the expecta⯑tions of virtue? Yet let me not raſhly queſtion the ways of Him, in whoſe balance the world is weighed: by Him, every evil is rendered ſub⯑ſervient to good; and by His wiſdom, the happineſs of the whole is ſecured. Yet I am but a part only, and for a part only I can feel. To me, what is that goodneſs of which I do not partake? In my cup the gall is unmixed; and have I not, therefore, a right to complain? But what have I ſaid? Let not the gloom that ſur⯑rounds me, hide from me the proſ⯑pect of immortality. Shall not eter⯑nity atone for time? Eternity, to which the duration of ages is but [44] as an atom to a world! Shall I not, when this momentary ſeparation is paſt, again meet ALMEIDA to part no more? and ſhall not a purer flame than burns upon the earth, unite us? Even at this moment, her mind, which not the frauds of ſorcery can taint or alienate, is mine: that pleaſure which ſhe reſerved for me, cannot be taken by force; it is in the conſent alone that it ſubſiſts; and from the joy that ſhe feels, and from that only, proceeds the joy ſhe can beſtow.’

With theſe reflections he ſoothed the anguiſh of his mind, till the dreadful moment arrived, in which the power of the taliſman took place, and the fi⯑gure of ALMORAN was changed into [45] that of HAMET, and the figure of HA⯑MET into that of ALMORAN.

At the moment of transformation, HAMET was ſeized with a ſudden lan⯑guor, and his faculties were ſuſpended as by the ſtroke of death. When he recovered, his limbs ſtill trembled, and his lips were parched with thirſt: he roſe, therefore, and entering the ca⯑vern, at the mouth of which he had been ſitting, he ſtooped over the well to drink; but glancing his eyes upon the water, he ſaw, with aſtoniſhment and horror, that it reflected, not his own countenance, but that of his bro⯑ther. He ſtarted back from the pro⯑digy; and ſupporting himſelf againſt the ſide of the rock, he ſtood ſome time like a ſtatue, without the power [46] of recollection: but at length the thought ſuddenly ruſhed into his mind, that the ſame ſorcery which had ſuſ⯑pended his marriage, and driven him from the throne, was ſtill practiſed againſt him; and that the change of his figure to that of ALMORAN, was the effect of ALMORAN's having aſſum⯑ed his likeneſs, to obtain, in this diſ⯑guiſe, whatever ALMEIDA could be⯑ſtow. This thought, like a whirlwind of the deſert, totally ſubverted his mind; his fortitude was borne down, and his hopes were rooted up; no principles remained to regulate his con⯑duct, but all was phrenſy, confuſion, and deſpair. He ruſhed out of the cave with a furious and diſtracted look; and went in haſte towards the city, without having formed any de⯑ſign, [47] or conſidered any conſequence that might follow.

The ſhadows of the mountains were now lengthened by the declining ſun; and the approach of evening had invited OMAR to meditate in a grove, that was adjacent to the gardens of the palace. From this place he was ſeen at ſome diſtance by HAMET, who came up to him with a haſty and diſordered pace; and OMAR drew back with a cold and diſtant reverence, which the power and the character of ALMORAN concurred to excite. HAMET, not reflecting upon the cauſe of this behaviour, was of⯑fended, and reproached him with the want of that friendſhip he had ſo often profeſſed: the vehemence of his ex⯑preſſion and demeanor, ſuited well with [48] the appearance of ALMORAN; and OMAR, as the beſt proof of that friend⯑ſhip which had been impeached, took this opportunity to repeat his admoni⯑tions in the behalf of HAMET: ‘What ever evil,’ ſaid he, ‘thou canſt bring upon HAMET, will be doubled to thyſelf: to his virtues, the Power that fills infinitude is a friend, and he can be afflicted only till they are per⯑fect; but thy ſufferings will be the puniſhment of vice, and as long as thou art vicious they muſt increaſe.’

HAMET, who inſtantly recollected for whom he was miſtaken, and the anguiſh of whoſe mind was for a mo⯑ment ſuſpended by this teſtimony of eſteem and kindneſs, which could not poſſibly be feigned, and which was [49] paid him at the riſque of life, when it could not be known that he received it; ran forward to embrace the hoary ſage, who had been the guide of his youth, and cried out, in a voice that was broken by contending paſſions,

OMAR was ſtruck dumb with aſto⯑niſhment; and HAMET, who was impa⯑tient to be longer miſtaken, related all the circumſtances of his transforma⯑tion, and reminded him of ſome parti⯑culars which could be known only to themſelves: ‘Canſt thou not yet be⯑lieve,’ ſaid he, ‘that I am HAMET? when thou haſt this day ſeen me baniſhed from my kingdom; when thou haſt now met me a fugitive [50] returning from the deſert; and when I learnt from thee, ſince the ſun was riſen which is not yet ſet, that more than mortal powers were combined againſt me.’ ‘I now believe,’ ſaid OMAR, ‘that thou, indeed, art HAMET.’ ‘Stay me not then, ſaid HAMET;’ ‘but come with me to revenge.’ 'Beware,' ſaid O⯑MAR, ‘leſt thou endanger the loſs of more than empire and ALMEIDA.’ 'If not to revenge,' ſaid HAMET, ‘I may at leaſt be permitted to puniſh.’ 'Thy mind,' ſays OMAR, ‘is now in ſuch a ſtate, that to puniſh the crimes by which thou haſt been wronged, will dip thee in the guilt of blood. Why elſe are we forbidden to take vengeance for ourſelves? and why is it reſerved as the prerogative of the [51] Moſt High? In Him, and in Him alone, it is goodneſs guided by wiſ⯑dom: He approves the means, only as neceſſary to the end; He wounds only to heal, and deſtroys only to ſave; He has complacence, not in the evil, but in the good only which it is appointed to produce. Remember, therefore, that he, to whom the puniſhment of another is ſweet; though his act may be juſt with reſpect to others, with re⯑ſpect to himſelf it is a deed of darkneſs, and abhorred by the Al⯑mighty.’ HAMET, who had ſtood abſtracted in the contemplation of the new injury he had ſuffered, while OMAR was perſuading him not to revenge it, ‘ſtarted from his poſ⯑ture in all the wildneſs of diſtrac⯑tion; [52] and burſting away from OMAR, with an ardent and furious look haſted toward the palace, and was ſoon out of ſight.’

CHAP. XV.

IN the mean time, ALMORAN, after having effected the transformation, was met, as he was going to the apart⯑ment of ALMEIDA, by Oſmyn. Oſmyn had already experienced the miſery of de⯑pendent greatneſs, that kept him conti⯑nually under the eye of a capricious ty⯑rant, whoſe temper was various as the gales of ſummer, and whoſe anger was ſudden as the bolt of heaven; whoſe purpoſe and paſſions were dark and im⯑petuous as the midnight ſtorm, and at whoſe command death was inevita⯑ble as the approach of time. When [54] he ſaw ALMORAN, therefore, in the likeneſs of HAMET, he felt a ſecret deſire to apprize him of his ſituation, and offer him his friendſhip.

ALMORAN, who with the form aſ⯑ſumed the manners of HAMET, ad⯑dreſſed Oſmyn with a mild though mournful countenance: 'At length,' ſaid he, ‘the will of ALMORAN alone is law; does it permit me to hold a private rank in this place, without moleſtation? It permits,’ ſaid Oſmyn, ‘yet more; he has commanded, that you ſhould have admittance to AL⯑MEIDA.’ ALMORAN, whoſe vanity betrayed him to flatter his own pow⯑er in the perſon of HAMET, replied with a ſmile: ‘I know, that ALMO⯑RAN, who preſides like a God in ſi⯑lent [55] and diſtant ſtate, reveals the ſe⯑crets of his will to thee; I know that thou art’—'I am,' ſaid Oſmyn, ‘of all thou ſeeſt, moſt wretch⯑ed.’ At this declaration, ALMORAN turned ſhort, and fixed his eyes upon Oſmyn with a look of ſurprize and an⯑ger: ‘Does not the favour of ALMO⯑RAN,’ ſaid he, ‘whoſe ſmile is pow⯑er, and wealth, and honour, ſhine upon thee?’ 'My lord,' ſaid Oſ⯑myn, ‘I know ſo well the ſeverity of thy virtue, that if I ſhould, even for thy ſake, become perfidious to thy brother’—ALMORAN, who was unable to preſerve the character of HAMET with propriety, interrupted him with a fierce and haughty tone: 'How!' ſaid he, ‘perfidious to [56] my brother! to ALMORAN perfidi⯑ous!’

Oſmyn, who had now gone too far to recede, and who ſtill ſaw before him the figure of HAMET, proceeded in his purpoſe: ‘'I knew,' ſaid he, that in thy judgment I ſhould be condemned; and yet, the preſerva⯑tion of life is the ſtrongeſt principle of nature, and the love of virtue is her proudeſt boaſt.’ ‘Explain thy⯑ſelf,’ ‘ſaid ALMORAN, for I cannot comprehend thee.’ ‘'I mean,' ſaid Oſmyn, that he, whoſe life depends upon the caprice of a tyrant, is like the wretch whoſe ſentence is already pronounced; and who, if the wind does but ruſh by his dungeon, ima⯑gines that it is the bow-ſtring and the [57] mute.’ 'Fear not,' ſaid ALMO⯑RAN, who now affected to be again calm; ‘be ſtill faithful, and thou ſhalt ſtill be ſafe.’ 'Alas!' ſaid Oſ⯑myn, ‘there is no diligence, no toil, no faith, that can ſecure the ſlave from the ſudden phrenſy of paſſion, from the cauſeleſs rage either of drunkenneſs or luſt. I am that ſlave; the ſlave of a tyrant whom I hate.’ The confuſion of ALMORAN was now too great to be concealed, and he ſtood ſilent with rage, fear, and indignation. Oſmyn, ſuppoſing that his wonder ſuſ⯑pended his belief of what he had heard, confirmed his declaration by an oath.

Whoever thou art, to whoſe mind ALMORAN, the mighty and the proud, [58] is preſent; before whom, the lord of abſolute dominion ſtands trembling and rebuked; who ſeeſt the poſſeſſor of power by which nature is controuled, pale and ſilent with anguiſh and diſap⯑pointment: if, in the fury of thy wrath, thou haſt aggravated weakneſs into guilt; if thou haſt chilled the glow of affection, when it fluſhed the cheek in thy preſence, with the frown of diſplea⯑ſure, or repreſſed the ardour of friend⯑ſhip with indifference or neglect; now, let thy heart ſmite thee: for, in thy folly, thou haſt caſt away that gem, which is the light of life; which power can never ſeize, and which gold can never buy!

The tyrant fell at once from his pride, like a ſtar from Heaven; and [59] Oſmyn, ſtill addreſſing him as HA⯑MET, at once increaſed his miſery and his fears: 'O,' ſaid he, ‘that the throne of Perſia was thine! then ſhould innocence enjoy her birth-right of peace, and hope ſhould bid honeſt induſtry look upward. There is not one to whom ALMORAN has delegat⯑ed power, nor one on whom his tranſient favour has beſtowed any gift, who does not already feel his heart throb with the pangs of boding terror. Nor is there one who, if he did not fear the diſpleaſure of the in⯑viſible power by whom the throne has been given to thy brother, would not immediately revolt to thee.’

ALMORAN, who had hitherto re⯑mained ſilent, now burſt into a paſſio⯑nate [60] exclamation of ſelf pity: ‘What can I do?’ ſaid he; ‘and whither can I turn?’ Oſmyn, who miſtook the cauſe of his diſtreſs, and ſuppoſed that he deplored only his want of power to avail himſelf of the general diſpoſition in his favour, endeavour⯑ed to fortify his mind againſt deſpair: 'Your ſtate,' ſaid he, ‘in⯑deed is diſtreſsful, but not hopeleſs.’ The king who, though addreſſed as HAMET, was ſtill betrayed by his con⯑fuſion to anſwer as ALMORAN, ſmote his breaſt, and replied in an agony, 'It is hopeleſs!' Oſmyn remarked his emotion and deſpair, with a con⯑cern and aſtoniſhment that ALMORAN obſerved, and at once recollected his ſituation. He endeavoured to retract ſuch expreſſions of trouble and deſ⯑pondency, [61] as did not ſuit the character he had aſſumed; and telling Oſmyn, that he thanked him for his friendſhip, and would improve the advantages it offered him, he directed him to ac⯑quaint the eunuchs that they were to admit him to ALMEIDA. When he was left alone, his doubts and perplex⯑ity held him long in ſuſpenſe; a thou⯑ſand expedients occurred to his mind by turns, and by turns were rejected.

His firſt thought was to put Oſmyn to death: but he conſidered, that by this he would gain no advantage, as he would be in equal danger from who⯑ever ſhould ſucceed him: he conſi⯑dered alſo, that againſt Oſmyn he was upon his guard; and that he might at any time learn, from him, whatever [62] deſign might be formed in favour of HAMET, by aſſuming HAMET's ap⯑pearance: that he would thus be the confident of every ſecret, in which his own ſafety was concerned; and might diſconcert the beſt contrived project at the very moment of its execution, when it would be too late for other meaſures to be taken: he determined, therefore, to let Oſmyn live; at leaſt, till it became more neceſſary to cut him off. Having in ſome degree ſoothed and fortified his mind by theſe reflections, he entered the apart⯑ment of ALMEIDA.

His hope was not founded upon a deſign to marry her under the appear⯑ance of HAMET; for that would be im⯑poſſible, as the ceremony muſt have been performed by the prieſts who ſup⯑poſed [63] the marriage with HAMET to have been forbidden by a divine com⯑mand; and who, therefore, would not have conſented, even ſuppoſing they would otherwiſe have ventured, at the requeſt of HAMET, to perform a cere⯑mony which they knew would be diſ⯑pleaſing to ALMORAN: but he hoped to take advantage of her tenderneſs for his brother, and the particular circum⯑ſtances of her ſituation, which made the ſolemnities of mariage impoſſible, to ſeduce her to gratify his deſires, without the ſanction which alone ren⯑dered the gratification of them lawful: if he ſucceeded in this deſign, he had reaſon to expect, either that his love would be extinguiſhed by enjoyment; or that, if he ſhould ſtill deſire to marry ALMEIDA, he might, by diſcloſ⯑ing to her the artifice by which he had [64] effected his purpoſe, prevail upon her to conſent, as her connexion with HA⯑MET, the chief obſtacle to her marriage with him, would then be broken for ever; and as ſhe might, perhaps, wiſh to ſanctify the pleaſure which ſhe might be not unwilling to repeat, or at leaſt to make that lawful which it would not be in her power to prevent.

In this diſpoſition, and with this de⯑ſign, he was admitted to ALMEIDA; who, without ſuſpicion of her danger, was expoſed to the ſevereſt trial, in which every paſſion concurred to oppoſe her virtue: ſhe was ſolicited by all the powers of ſubtilty and deſire, under the appearance of a lover whoſe ten⯑derneſs and fidelity had been long tried, and whoſe paſſion ſhe returned with [65] equal conſtancy and ardour; and ſhe was thus ſolicited, when the rites which alone could conſecrate their union, were im⯑poſſible, and were rendered impoſſible by the guilty deſigns of a rival, in whoſe power ſhe was, and from whom no other expedient offered her a deliver⯑ance. Thus deceived and betrayed, ſhe received him with an exceſs of ten⯑derneſs and joy, which flattered all his hopes, and for a moment ſuſpended his miſery. She enquired, with a ſond and gentle ſolicitude, by what means he had gained admittance, and how he had provided for his retreat. He received and returned her careſſes with a vehemence, in which, to leſs partial eyes, deſire would have been more ap⯑parent than love; and in the tumult of his paſſion, he almoſt neglected her [66] enquiries: finding, however, that ſhe would be anſwered, he told her, that being by the permiſſion of ALMORAN admitted to every part of the palace, except that of the women, he had found means to bribe the eunuch who kept the door; who was not in danger of detection, becauſe ALMORAN, wea⯑ried with the tumult and fatigue of the day, had retired to ſleep, and given order to be called at a certain hour. She then complained of the ſo⯑licitations to which ſhe was expoſed, expreſſed her dread of the conſequences ſhe had reaſon to expect from ſome ſud⯑den ſally of the tyrant's rage, and re⯑lated with tears the brutal outrage ſhe had ſuffered when he laſt left her: 'Though I abhorred him,' ſaid ſhe, ‘I yet kneeled before him for thee. [67] Let me bend in reverence to that Power, at whoſe look the whirlwinds are ſilent, and the ſeas are calm, that his fury has hitherto been reſtrained from hurting thee!’

At theſe words, the face of ALMO⯑RAN was again covered with the bluſhes of confuſion: to be ſtill beloved only as HAMET, and as ALMORAN to be ſtill hated; to be thus reproached with⯑out anger, and wounded by thoſe who knew not that they ſtruck him; was a ſpecies of miſery peculiar to himſelf, and had been incurred only by the ac⯑quiſition of new powers, which he had requeſted and received as neceſſary to obtain that felicity, which the parſi⯑mony of nature had placed beyond his reach. His emotions, however, as by [68] ALMEIDA they were ſuppoſed to be the emotions of HAMET, ſhe imputed to a different cauſe: 'As Heaven,' ſays ſhe, ‘has preſerved thee from death; ſo has it, for thy ſake, pre⯑ſerved me from violation.’ ALMO⯑RAN, whoſe paſſion had in this inter⯑val again ſurmounted his remorſe, gazed eagerly upon her, and catching her to his boſom; 'Let us at leaſt,' ſays he, ‘ſecure the happineſs that is now of⯑fered; let not theſe ineſtimable mo⯑ments paſs by us unimproved; but to ſhew that we deſerve them, let them be devoted to love.’ ‘Let us then,’ ſaid ALMEIDA, ‘eſcape toge⯑ther.’ 'To eſcape with thee,' ſaid ALMORAN, ‘is impoſſible. I ſhall re⯑tire, and, like the ſhaft of Arabia, leave no mark behind me; but the [69] flight of ALMEIDA will at once be traced to him by whom I was ad⯑mitted, and I ſhall thus retaliate his friendſhip with deſtruction.’ ‘Let him then,’ ſaid ALMEIDA, ‘be the partner of our flight.’ ‘Urge it not now, ſaid ALMORAN;’ ‘but truſt to my prudence and my love, to ſelect ſome hour that will be more favour⯑able to our purpoſe. And yet,’ ſaid he, ‘even then, we ſhall, as now, ſigh in vain for the completion of our wiſhes: by whom ſhall our hands be joined, when in the opinion of the prieſts it has been forbidden from above?’ 'Save thyſelf then,' ſaid AL⯑MEIDA, 'and leave me to my fate.' 'Not ſo,' ſaid ALMORAN. ‘What elſe,’ replied ALMEIDA, ‘is in our power?’ 'It is in our power,' ſaid [70] ALMORAN, ‘to ſeize that joy, to which a public form can give us no new claim; for the public form can only declare that right by which I claim it now.’

As they were now reclining upon a ſofa, he threw his arm round her; but ſhe ſuddenly ſprung up, and burſt from him: the tear ſtarted to her eye, and ſhe gazed upon him with an earneſt but yet tender look: 'Is it?' ſays ſhe‘—No ſure, it is not the voice of HAMET!’ 'O! yes,' ſaid ALMORAN, ‘what other voice ſhould call thee to cancel at once the wrongs of HAMET and ALMEIDA; to ſecure the treaſures of thy love from the hand of the rob⯑ber; to hide the joys, which if now we loſe we may loſe for ever, in the [71] ſacred and inviolable ſtores of the paſt, and place them beyond the power not of ALMORAN only but of fate?’ With this wild effuſion of deſire, he caught her again to his breaſt, and finding no reſiſtance his heart exulted in his ſucceſs; but the next moment, to the total diſappointment of his hopes, he perceived that ſhe had fainted in his arms. When ſhe recovered, ſhe once more diſengaged herſelf from him, and turning away her face, ſhe burſt into tears. When her voice could be heard, ſhe covered herſelf with her veil, and turning again towards him, ‘All but this,’ ſaid ſhe, ‘I had learnt to bear; and how has this been deſerved by AL⯑MEIDA of HAMET? You was my only ſolace in diſtreſs; and when the tears have ſtolen from my eyes in ſilence [72] and in ſolitude, I thought on thee; I thought upon the chaſte ardour of thy ſacred friendſhip, which was ſoftened, refined, and exalted into love. This was my hoarded treaſure; and the thoughts of poſſeſſing this, ſoothed all my anguiſh with a miſer's happineſs, who, bleſt in the conſci⯑ouſneſs of hidden wealth, deſpiſes cold and hunger, and rejoices in the midſt of all the miſeries that make poverty dreadful: this was my laſt retreat; but I am now deſolate and forlorn, and my ſoul looks round, with terror, for that refuge which it can never find.’ 'Find that refuge,' ſaid ALMORAN, 'in me.' 'Alas!' ſaid ALMEIDA, ‘can he afford me re⯑fuge from my ſorrows, who, for the guilty pleaſures of a tranſient mo⯑ment, [73] would for ever ſully the purity of my mind, and aggravate misfor⯑tune by the conſciouſneſs of guilt?’

As ALMORAN now perceived, that it was impoſſible, by any importunity, to induce her to violate her principles; he had nothing more to attempt, but to ſubvert them. 'When,' ſaid he, ‘ſhall ALMEIDA awake, and theſe dreams of folly and ſuperſtition va⯑niſh? That only is virtue, by which happineſs is produced; and whatever produces happineſs, is therefore vir⯑tue; and the forms, and words, and rites, which prieſts have pretended to be required by Heaven, are the fraudful arts only by which they go⯑vern mankind.’

[74] ALMEIDA, by this impious inſult, was rouſed from grief to indignation: 'As thou haſt now dared,' ſaid ſhe, ‘to deride the laws, which thou wouldſt firſt have broken; ſo haſt thou broken for ever the tender bonds, by which my ſoul was united to thine. Such as I fondly believed thee, thou art not; and what thou art, I have never loved. I have loved a deluſive phantom only, which, while I ſtrove to graſp it, has va⯑niſhed from me.’ ALMORAN attempt⯑ed to reply; but on ſuch a ſubject, neither her virtue nor her wiſdom would permit debate. 'That prodigy,' ſaid ſhe, ‘which I thought was the ſleight of cunning, or the work of ſorcery, I now revere as the voice of Heaven; which, as it knew thy heart, [75] has in mercy ſaved me from thy arms. To the will of Heaven ſhall my will be obedient; and my voice alſo ſhall pronounce, to ALMORAN ALMEIDA.’

ALMORAN, whoſe whole ſoul was now ſuſpended in attention, conceived new hopes of ſucceſs; and foreſaw the cer⯑tain accompliſhment of his purpoſe, though by an effect directly contrary to that which he had laboured to pro⯑duce. Thus to have incurred the ha⯑tred of ALMEIDA in the form of HA⯑MET, was more fortunate than to have taken advantage of her love; the path that led to his wiſhes was now clear and open; and his marriage with AL⯑MEIDA in his own perſon, waited only [...]ill he could reſume it. He, therefore, [76] inſtead of ſoothing, provoked her re⯑ſentment: ‘If thou haſt loved a phan⯑tom,’ ſaid he, ‘which exiſted only in imagination; on ſuch a phantom my love alſo has been fixed: thou haſt, indeed, only the form of what I called ALMEIDA; my love thou haſt rejected, becauſe thou haſt never loved; the object of thy paſſion was not HAMET, but a throne; and thou haſt made the obſervance of rituals, in which folly only can ſuppoſe there is good or ill, a pretence to violate thy faith, that thou mayſt ſtill gra⯑tify thy ambition.’

To this injurious reproach, ALMEI⯑DA made no reply; and ALMORAN immediately quitted her apartment, that he might reaſſume his own figure, [77] and take advantage of the diſpoſition which, under the appearance of HA⯑MET, he had produced in favour of himſelf: But Oſmyn, who ſuppoſing him to be HAMET, had intercepted and detained him as he was going to ALMEI⯑DA, now intercepted him a ſecond time at his return, having placed himſelf near the door of the apartment for that purpoſe.

Oſmyn was by no means ſatisfied with the iſſue of their laſt interview: he had perceived a perturbation in the mind of ALMORAN, for which, imagin⯑ing him to be HAMET, he could not ac⯑count; and which ſeemed more extra⯑ordinary upon a review, than when it happened; he, therefore, again entered into converſation with him, in which he [78] farther diſcloſed his ſentiments and de⯑ſigns. ALMORAN, notwithſtanding the impatience natural to his temper and ſituation, was thus long detained liſtening to Oſmyn, by the united in⯑fluence of his curioſity and his fears; his enquiries ſtill alarmed him with new terrors, by diſcovering new objects of diſtruſt, and new inſtances of diſaffec⯑tion: ſtill, however, he reſolved, not yet to remove Oſmyn from his poſt, that he might give no alarm by any appearance of ſuſpicion, and conſe⯑quently learn with more eaſe, and de⯑tect with more certainty, any project that might be formed againſt him.

CHAP. XVI.

ALMEIDA, as ſoon as ſhe was left alone, began to review the ſcene that had juſt paſt; and was every moment affected with new wonder, grief, and reſentment. She now de⯑plored her own misfortune; and now conceived a deſign to puniſh the au⯑thor of it, from whoſe face ſhe ſup⯑poſed the hand of adverſity had torn the maſk under which he had deceived her: it appeared to her very eaſy, to take a ſevere revenge upon HAMET for the indignity which ſhe ſuppoſed he had offered her, by complaining of it [80] to ALMORAN; and telling him, that he had gained admittance to her by brib⯑ing the eunuch who kept the door. The thought of thus giving him up, was one moment rejected, as ariſing from a vindictive ſpirit; and the next indulged, as an act of juſtice to ALMORAN, and a puniſhment due to the hypocriſy of HAMET: to the firſt ſhe inclined, when her grief, which was ſtill mingled with a tender remembrance of the man ſhe loved, was predominant; and to the laſt, when her grief gave way to indig⯑nation.

Thus are we inclined to conſider the ſame action, either as a virtue, or a vice, by the influence of different paſ⯑ſions, which prompt us either to per⯑form or to avoid it. ALMEIDA, from de⯑liberating [81] whether ſhe ſhould accuſe HAMET to ALMORAN, or conceal his fault, was led to conſider what puniſh⯑ment he would either incur or eſcape in conſequence of her determination; and the images that ruſhed into her mind, the moment this became the ob⯑ject of her thoughts, at once deter⯑mined her to be ſilent: ‘Could I bear to ſee,’ ſaid ſhe, ‘that hand, which has ſo often trembled with delight when it enfolded mine, convulſed and black! thoſe eyes, that as often as they gazed upon me were diſſolv⯑ed in tears of tenderneſs and love, ſtart from the ſockets! and thoſe lips that breathed the ſofteſt ſighs of ele⯑gant deſire, diſtorted and gaſping in the convulſions of death!’

[82] From this image, her mind recoiled in an agony of terror and pity; her heart ſunk within her; her limbs trem⯑bled; ſhe ſunk down upon the ſofa, and burſt into tears.

By this time, HAMET, on whoſe form the likeneſs of ALMORAN was ſtill impreſſed, had reached the palace. He went inſtantly towards the apart⯑ment of the women. Inſtead of that chearful alacrity, that mixture of zeal and reverence and affection, which his eye had been uſed to find where⯑ever it was turned, he now obſerved confuſion, anxiety and terror; whoever he met, made haſte to proſtrate them⯑ſelves before him, and feared to look up till he was paſt. He went on, how⯑ever, with a haſty pace; and coming up [83] to the eunuch's guard, he ſaid with an impatient tone; 'TO ALMEIDA.' The ſlave immediately made way before him, and conducted him to the door of the apartment, which he would not otherwiſe have been able to find, and for which he could not directly en⯑quire.

When he entered, his countenance expreſſed all the paſſions that his ſitua⯑tion had rouſed in his mind. He firſt looked ſternly round him, to ſee whe⯑ther ALMORAN was not preſent; and then fetching a deep ſigh he turned his eyes, with a look of mournful tender⯑neſs, upon ALMEIDA. His firſt view was to diſcover, whether ALMORAN had already ſupplanted him; and for this purpoſe he collected the whole ſtrength [84] of his mind: he conſidered that he ap⯑peared now, not as HAMET, but as ALMORAN; and that he was to queſ⯑tion ALMEIDA concerning ALMORAN, while ſhe had miſtaken him for HA⯑MET; he was therefore to maintain the character, at whatever expence, till his doubts were reſolved, and his fears either removed or confirmed: he was ſo firmly perſuaded, that ALMO⯑RAN had been there before him, that he did not aſk the queſtion, but ſuppoſed the fact; he reſtrained alike both his tenderneſs and his fears; and looking earneſtly upon ALMEIDA, who had riſen up in his preſence with bluſhes and confuſion, 'To me,' ſays he, ‘is ALMEIDA ſtill cold? and has ſhe la⯑viſhed all her love upon HAMET?’

[85] At the name of HAMET, the bluſhes and confuſion of ALMEIDA increaſed: her mind was ſtill full of the images, which had riſen from the thought of what HAMET might ſuffer, if ALMO⯑RAN ſhould know that he had been with her; and though ſhe feared that their interview was diſcovered, yet ſhe hoped it might be only ſuſpected, and in that caſe the removal or confirma⯑tion of the ſuſpicions, on which the fate of HAMET depended, would de⯑volve upon her.

In this ſituation, ſhe, who had but a few moments before doubted, whe⯑ther ſhe ſhould not voluntarily give him up, when nothing more was ne⯑ceſſary for his ſafety than to be ſilent; now determined, with whatever reluc⯑tance, [86] to ſecure him, though it could not be done without diſſimulation, and though it was probable that in this diſſimulation ſhe would be detected. Inſtead, therefore, of anſwering the queſtion, ſhe repeated it: ‘On whom ſaid my lord, on HAMET?’ HAMET, whoſe ſuſpicions were increaſed by the evaſion, replied with great emotion, ‘Aye, on HAMET; did he not this moment leave you?’ ‘Leave me this moment?’ ſaid ALMEIDA, with yet greater confuſion, and deeper bluſhes. HAMET, in the impatience of his jea⯑louſy, concluded, that the paſſions which he ſaw expreſſed in her counte⯑nance, and which aroſe from the ſtrug⯑gle between her regard to truth and her tenderneſs for HAMET, proceeded [87] from the conſciouſneſs of what he had moſt reaſon to dread, and ſhe to con⯑ceal, a breach of virtue, to which ſhe had been betrayed by his own ap⯑pearance united with the vices of his brother: he, therefore, drew back from her with a look of inexpreſſible an⯑guiſh, and ſtood ſome time ſilent. She obſerved, that in his countenance there was more expreſſion of trouble, than rage; ſhe, therefore, hoped to divert him from perſuing his enquiries, by at once removing his jealouſy; which ſhe ſuppoſed would be at an end, as ſoon as ſhe ſhould diſcloſe the reſolution ſhe had taken in his favour. Addreſſ⯑ing him, therefore, as ALMORAN, with a voice which though it was gentle and ſoothing, was yet mournful and tremu⯑lous; 'Do not turn from me,' ſaid ſhe, ‘[88] with thoſe unfriendly and frowning looks; give me now that love which ſo lately you offered, and with all the future I will atone the paſt.’

Upon HAMET, whoſe heart involun⯑tarily anſwered to the voice of AL⯑MEIDA, theſe words had irreſiſtible and inſtantaneous force; but recollecting, in a moment, whoſe from he bore, and to whom they were addreſſed, they ſtruck him with new aſtoniſhment, and increaſed the torments of his mind. Suppoſing what he at firſt feared had happened, and that ALMORAN had ſe⯑duced her as HAMET; he could not ac⯑count for her now addreſſing him, as ALMORAN, with words of favour and compliance: he, therefore, renewed his enquiries concerning himſelf, with ap⯑prehenſions [89] of a different kind. She, who was ſtill ſolicitous to put an end to the enquiry, as well for the ſake of HAMET, as to prevent her own em⯑barraſſment, replied with a ſigh, ‘Let not thy peace be interrupted by one thought of HAMET; for of HAMET ALMEIDA ſhall think no more.’ HA⯑MET, who, though he had fortified himſelf againſt whatever might have happened to her perſon, could not bear the alienation of her mind, cried out, with looks of diſtraction and a voice ſcarcely human, ‘Not think of HAMET!’ ALMEIDA, whoſe aſtoniſh⯑ment was every moment increaſing, re⯑plied, with a tender and intereſting en⯑quiry, ‘IS ALMORAN then offended, that ALMEIDA ſhould think of HA⯑MET no more?’ HAMET, being thus [90] addreſſed by the name of his brother, again recollected his ſituation; and now firſt conceived the idea, that the alte⯑ration of ALMEIDA's ſentiments with reſpect to himſelf, might be the effect of ſome violence offered her by ALMO⯑RAN in his likeneſs; he, therefore, re⯑curred to his firſt purpoſe, and deter⯑mined, by a direct enquiry, to diſco⯑ver, whether ſhe had ſeen him under that appearance. This enquiry he urged with the utmoſt ſolemnity and ardour, in terms ſuitable to his preſent appearance and ſituation: 'Tell me,' ſaid he, ‘have theſe doors been open to HAMET? Has he obtained poſſeſ⯑ſion of that treaſure, which, by the voice of Heaven, has been allotted to me?’

[91] To this double queſtion, ALMEIDA anſwered by a ſingle negative; and her anſwer, therefore, was both falſe and true: it was true that her perſon was ſtill inviolate, and it was true alſo that HAMET had not been admitted to her; yet her denial of it was falſe, for ſhe believed the contrary; ALMORAN only had been admitted, but ſhe had re⯑ceived him as his brother. HAMET, however, was ſatisfied with the anſwer, and did not diſcover its fallacy. He looked up to Heaven, with an expreſ⯑ſion of gratitude and joy; and then turning to ALMEIDA, 'Swear then,' ſaid he, ‘that thou haſt granted to HAMET, no pledge of thy love which ſhould be reſerved for me.’ ALMEI⯑DA, who now thought nothing more than the aſſeveration neceſſary to quiet [92] his mind, immediately complied: ‘I ſwear,’ ſaid ſhe, ‘that to HAMET I have given nothing, which thou wouldſt wiſh me to with-hold: the power that has devoted my perſon to thee, has diſunited my heart from HAMET, whom I renounce in thy preſence for ever.’

HAMET, whoſe fortitude and recol⯑lection were again overborne, was thrown into an agitation of mind, which diſcovered itſelf by looks and geſtures very different from thoſe which ALMEIDA had expected, and over⯑whelmed her with new confuſion and diſappointment: that he, who had ſo lately ſolicited her love with all the ve⯑hemence of a deſire impatient to be gratified, ſhould now receive a decla⯑ration [93] that ſhe was ready to comply, with marks of diſtreſs and anger, was a myſtery which ſhe could not ſolve. In the mean time, the ſtruggle in his breaſt became every moment more violent: 'Where then,' ſaid he, ‘is the con⯑ſtancy which you vowed to HAMET; and for what inſtance of his love is he now forſaken?’

ALMEIDA was now more embarraſ⯑ſed than before; ſhe felt all the force of the reproof, ſuppoſing it to have been given by ALMORAN; and ſhe could be juſtified only by relating the particular, which at the expence of her ſincerity ſhe had determined to conceal. AL⯑MORAN was now exalted in her opi⯑nion, while his form was animated by the ſpirit of HAMET; as much as [94] HAMET had been degraded, while his form was animated by the ſpirit of ALMORAN. In his reſentment of her perfidy to his rival, though it favoured his fondeſt and moſt ardent wiſhes, there was an abhorrence of vice, and a ge⯑neroſity of mind, which ſhe ſuppoſed to have been incompatible with his character. To his reproach, ſhe could reply only by complaint; and could no otherwiſe evade his queſtion, than by obſerving the inconſiſtency of his own behaviour: 'Your words,' ſaid ſhe, ‘are daggers to my heart. You condemn me for a compliance with your own wiſhes; and for obedience to that voice, which you ſuppoſed to have revealed the will of Heaven. Has the caprice of deſire already wander⯑ed to a new object? and do you [95] now ſeek a pretence to refuſe, when it is freely offered, what ſo lately you would have taken by force?’

HAMET, who was now fired with re⯑ſentment againſt ALMEIDA, whom yet he could not behold without deſire; and who, at the ſame moment, was impatient to revenge his wrongs upon ALMORAN; was ſuddenly prompted to ſatisfy all his paſſions, by taking ad⯑vantage of the wiles of ALMORAN, and the perfidy of ALMEIDA, to defeat the one and to puniſh the other. It was now in his power inſtantly to con⯑ſummate his marriage, as a prieſt might be procured without a moment's delay, and as ALMEIDA's conſent was already given; he would then obtain the poſ⯑ſeſſion of her perſon, by the very act [96] in which ſhe perfidiouſly reſigned it to his rival; to whom he would then leave the beauties he had already poſſeſſed, and caſt from him in diſdain, as united with a mind that he could never love. As his imagination was fired with the firſt conception of this deſign, he caught her to his breaſt with a fury, in which all the paſſions in all their rage were at once concentered: ‘Let the prieſt,’ ſaid he, ‘inſtantly unite us. Let us comprize, in one mo⯑ment, in this inſtant, NOW, our whole of being, and exclude alike the fu⯑ture and the paſt!’ Then graſping her ſtill in his arms, he looked up to heaven: 'Ye powers,' ſaid he, ‘in⯑viſible but yet preſent, who mould my changing and unreſiſting form; prolong, but for one hour, that [97] myſterious charm, that is now upon me, and I will be ever after ſubſer⯑vient to your will!’

ALMEIDA, who was terrified at the furious ardor of this unintelligible ad⯑dreſs, ſhrunk from his embrace, pale and trembling, without power to re⯑ply. HAMET gazed tenderly upon her; and recollecting the purity and tenderneſs with which he had loved her, his virtues ſuddenly recovered their force; he diſmiſſed her from his em⯑brace; and turning from her, he dropped in ſilence the tear that ſtarted to his eye, and expreſſed, in a low and faultering voice, the thoughts that ruſh⯑ed upon his mind: 'No,' ſaid he; ‘HAMET ſhall ſtill diſdain the joy, which is at once ſordid and tranſient: [98] in the breaſt of HAMET, luſt ſhall not be the pander of revenge. Shall I, who have languiſhed for the pure delight which can ariſe only from the interchange of ſoul with ſoul, and is endeared by mutual confi⯑dence and complacency; ſhall I ſnatch under this diſguiſe, which belies my features and degrades my virtue, a caſual poſſeſſion of faithleſs beauty, which I deſpiſe and hate? Let this be the portion of thoſe, that hate me without a cauſe; but let this be far from me!’ At this thought, he felt a ſudden elation of mind; and the conſcious dignity of virtue, that in ſuch a conflict was victorious, render⯑ed him, in this glorious moment, ſupe⯑rior to misfortune: his geſture became calm, and his countenance ſedate; he [99] conſidered the wrongs he ſuffered, not as a ſufferer, but as a judge; and he determined at once to diſcover himſelf to ALMEIDA, and to reproach her with her crime. He remarked her confu⯑ſion without pity, as the effect not of grief but of guilt; and fixing his eyes upon her, with the calm ſeverity of a ſuperior and offended being, 'Such,' ſaid he, ‘is the benevolence of the Almighty to the children of the duſt, that our misfortunes are, like poi⯑ſons, antidotes to each other.’

ALMEIDA, whoſe faculties were now ſuſpended by wonder and expectation, looked earneſtly at him, but continued ſilent. 'Thy looks,' ſaid HAMET, ‘are full of wonder; but as yet thy wonder has no cauſe, in compariſon [100] of that which ſhall be revealed. Thou knoweſt the prodigy, which ſo lately parted HAMET and ALMEIDA: I am that HAMET, thou art that ALMEI⯑DA.’ ALMEIDA would now have in⯑terrupted him; but HAMET raiſed his voice, and demanded to be heard: ‘At that moment,’ ſaid he, ‘wretched as I am, the child of error and diſ⯑obedience, my heart repined in ſecret at the deſtiny which had been written upon my head; for I then thought thee faithful and conſtant: but if our hands had been then united, I ſhould have been more wretched than I am; for I now know that thou art fickle and falſe. To know thee, though it has pierced my ſoul with ſorrow, has yet healed the wound which was inflicted when I loſt thee: [101] and though I am now compelled to wear the form of ALMORAN, whoſe vices are this moment diſgracing mine, yet in the balance I ſhall be weighed as HAMET, and I ſhall ſuffer only as I am found wanting.’

ALMEIDA, whoſe mind was now in a tumult that bordered upon diſtrac⯑tion, bewildered in a labyrinth of doubt and wonder, and alike dreading the conſequence of what ſhe heard, whe⯑ther it was falſe or true, was yet impa⯑tient to confute or confirm it; and as ſoon as ſhe had recovered her ſpeech, urged him for ſome token of the pro⯑digy he aſſerted, which he might eaſily have given, by relating any of the in⯑cidents which themſelves only could know. But juſt at this moment, AL⯑MORAN, [102] having at laſt diſengaged him⯑ſelf from Oſmyn, by whom he had been long detained, reſumed his own figure: and while the eyes of ALMEI⯑DA were fixed upon HAMET, his powers were ſuddenly taken from him, and re⯑ſtored in an inſtant; and ſhe beheld the features of ALMORAN vaniſh, and gazed with aſtoniſhment upon his own: 'Thy features change!' ſaid ſhe, ‘and thou indeed art HAMET.’ ‘The ſud⯑den trance,’ ſaid he, ‘has reſtored me to myſelf; and from my wrongs where ſhalt thou be hidden?’ This reproach was more than ſhe could ſuſ⯑tain; but he caught her as ſhe was fal⯑ling, and ſupported her in his arms. This incident renewed in a moment all the tenderneſs of his love: while he beheld her diſtreſs, and preſſed her by [103] the embrace that ſuſtained her to his boſom, he forgot every injury which he ſuppoſed ſhe had done him; and per⯑ceived her recover with a pleaſure, that for a moment ſuſpended the ſenſe of his misfortunes.

Her firſt reflection was upon the ſnare, in which ſhe had been taken; and her firſt ſenſation was joy that ſhe had eſcaped: ſhe ſaw at once the whole complication of events that had de⯑ceived and diſtreſſed her; and nothing more was now neceſſary, than to ex⯑plain them to HAMET; which, how⯑ever, ſhe could not do, without diſco⯑vering the inſincerity of her anſwers to the enquiries which he had made, while ſhe miſtook him for his brother: ‘If in my heart,’ ſays ſhe, ‘thou haſt [104] found any virtue, let it incline thee to pity the vice that is mingled with it: by the vice I have been enſnared, but I have been delivered by the vir⯑tue. ALMORAN, for now I know that it was not thee, ALMORAN, when he poſſeſſed thy form, was with me: he prophaned thy love, by at⯑tempts to ſupplant my virtue; I re⯑ſiſted his importunity, and eſcaped perdition; but the guilt of ALMO⯑RAN drew my reſentment upon HA⯑MET. I thought the vices which, under thy form, I diſcovered in his boſom, were thine; and in the an⯑guiſh of grief, indignation, and diſ⯑appointment, my heart renounced thee: yet, as I could not give thee up to death, I could not diſcover to ALMORAN the attempt which I im⯑puted [105] to thee; when you queſtioned me, therefore, as ALMORAN, I was betrayed to diſſimulation, by the ten⯑derneſs which ſtill melted my heart for HAMET.’ 'I believe thee,' ſaid HAMET, catching her in a tranſport to his breaſt: ‘I love thee for thy vir⯑tue; and may the pure and exalted beings, who are ſuperior to the paſ⯑ſions that now throb in my heart, forgive me, if I love thee alſo for thy fault. Yet, let the danger to which it betrayed thee, teach us ſtill to walk in the ſtrait path, and com⯑mit the keeping of our peace to the Almighty; for he that wanders in the maze of falſehood, ſhall paſs by the good that he would meet, and ſhall meet the evil that he would ſhun. I alſo was tempted; but I was ſtrength⯑ened [106] to reſiſt: if I had uſed the power, which I derived from the arts that have been practiſed againſt me, to return evil for evil; if I had not diſdained a ſecret and unavowed re⯑venge, and the unhallowed pleaſures of a brutal appetite; I might have poſſeſſed thee in the form of ALMO⯑RAN, and have wronged irreparably myſelf and thee: for how could I have been admitted, as HAMET, to the beauties which I had enjoyed as ALMORAN? and how couldſt thou have given, to ALMORAN, what in reality had been appropriated by HAMET?’

CHAP. XVII.

BUT while ALMEIDA and HAMET were thus congratulating each o⯑ther upon the evils which they had eſcaped, they were threatened by o⯑thers, which, however obvious, they had overlooked.

ALMORAN, who was now exulting in the proſpect of ſucceſs that had ex⯑ceeded his hopes, and who ſuppoſed the poſſeſſion of ALMEIDA before the end of the next hour, was as certain as that the next hour would arrive, ſuddenly entered the apartment; but upon diſcovering HAMET, he ſtarted [108] back aſtoniſhed and diſappointed. HA⯑MET ſtood unmoved; and regarded him with a fixed and ſteady look, that at once reproached and confounded him. 'What treachery,' ſaid ALMO⯑RAN, ‘has been practiſed againſt me? What has brought thee to this place; and how haſt thou gained admit⯑tance?’ 'Againſt thy peace,' ſaid HAMET, ‘no treachery has been prac⯑tiſed, but by thyſelf. By thoſe arts in which thy vices have employed the powers of darkneſs, I have been brought hither; and by thoſe arts I have gained admittance: thy form which they have impoſed upon me, was my paſſport; and by the reſtora⯑tion of my own, I have detected and diſappointed the fraud, which the double change was produced to exe⯑cute. [109] ALMEIDA, whom, as HA⯑MET, thou couldſt teach to hate thee, it is now impoſſible that, as ALMO⯑RAN, thou ſhouldſt teach to love.’

ALMEIDA, who perceived the ſtorm to be gathering which the next mo⯑ment would burſt upon the head of HAMET, interpoſed between them, and addreſſed each of them by turns; urg⯑ing HAMET to be ſilent, and conjuring ALMORAN to be merciful. AL⯑MORAN, however, without regarding ALMEIDA, or making any reply to HAMET, ſtruck the ground with his foot, and the meſſengers of death, to whom the ſignal was familiar, appeared at the door. ALMORAN then com⯑manded them to ſeize his brother, with a countenance pale and livid, and a [110] voice that was broken by rage. HA⯑MET was ſtill unmoved; but ALMEI⯑DA threw herſelf at the feet of ALMO⯑RAN, and embracing his knees was about to ſpeak, but he broke from her with ſudden fury: ‘If the world ſhould ſue,’ ſaid he, ‘I would ſpurn it off. There is no pang that cunning can invent, which he ſhall not ſuffer: and when death at length ſhall diſap⯑point my vengeance, his mangled limbs ſhall be caſt out unburied, to feed the beaſts of the deſert and the fowls of heaven.’ During this me⯑nace, ALMEIDA ſunk down without ſigns of life; and HAMET ſtruggling in vain for liberty to raiſe her from the ground, ſhe was carried off by ſome women who were called to her aſ⯑ſiſtance.

[111] In this awful criſis, HAMET, who felt his own fortitude give way, look⯑ed up; and though he conceived no words, a prayer aſcended from his heart to heaven, and was accepted by Him, to whom our thoughts are known while they are yet afar off. For HAMET, the fountain of ſtrength was opened from above; his eye ſparkled with confidence, and his breaſt was di⯑lated by hope. He commanded the guard that were leading him away to ſtop, and they implicitly obeyed; he then ſtretched out his hand towards ALMORAN, whoſe ſpirit was rebuked before him: 'Hear me,' ſaid he, ‘thou tyrant! for it is thy genius that ſpeaks by my voice. What has been the fruit of all thy guilt, but accu⯑mulated miſery? What joy haſt thou [112] derived from undivided empire? what joy from the prohibition of my mar⯑riage with ALMEIDA? what good from that power, which ſome evil daemon has added to thy own? what, at this moment, is thy portion, but rage and anguiſh, diſappointment, and deſpair? Even I, whom thou ſeeſt the captive of thy power, whom thou haſt wronged of empire, and yet more of love; even I am happy, in compariſon of thee. I know that my ſufferings, however multi⯑plied, are ſhort; for they ſhall end with life, and no life is long: then ſhall the everlaſting ages commence; and through everlaſting ages thy ſuf⯑ferings ſhall increaſe. The moment is now near, when thou ſhalt tread that line which alone is the path to [113] heaven, the narrow path that is ſtretched over the pit, which ſmokes for ever, and for ever! When thine aking eye ſhall look forward to the end that is far diſtant, and when be⯑hind thou ſhalt find no retreat; when thy ſteps ſhall faulter, and thou ſhalt tremble at the depth beneath, which thought itſelf is not able to fathom; then ſhall the angel of diſtribution lift his inexorable hand againſt thee: from the irremeable way ſhall thy feet be ſmitten; thou ſhalt plunge in the burning flood; and though thou ſhalt live for ever, thou ſhalt riſe no more.’

As the words of HAMET ſtruck AL⯑MORAN with terror, and over-awed him by an influence which he could not ſur⯑mount; [114] HAMET was forced from his preſence, before any other orders had been given about him, than were im⯑plied in the menace that was addreſſed to ALMEIDA: no violence, therefore, was yet offered him; but he was ſe⯑cured, till the king's pleaſure ſhould be known, in a dungeon not far from the palace, to which he was conducted by a ſubterraneous paſſage; and the door being cloſed upon him, he was left in ſilence, darkneſs, and ſolitude, ſuch as may be imagined before the voice of the Almighty produced light and life.

When ALMORAN was ſufficiently re⯑collected to conſider his ſituation, he deſpaired of prevailing upon ALMEIDA to gratify his wiſhes, till her attach⯑ment to HAMET was irreparably bro⯑ken; [115] and he, therefore, reſolved to put him to death. With this view, he re⯑peated the ſignal, which convened the miniſters of death to his preſence; but the ſound was loſt in a peal of thun⯑der that inſtantly followed it, and the Genius, from whom he received the taliſman, again ſtood before him.

'ALMORAN,' ſaid the Genius, ‘I am now compelled into thy preſence by the command of a ſuperior power; whom, if I ſhould dare to diſobey, the energy of his will might drive me, in a moment, beyond the limits of nature and the reach of thought, to ſpend eternity alone, without com⯑fort, and without hope.’ 'And what,' ſaid ALMORAN, ‘is the will of this mighty and tremendous being?’ ‘His [116] will,’ ſaid the Genius, ‘I will reveal to thee. Hitherto, thou haſt been enabled to lift the rod of adverſity againſt thy brother, by powers which nature has not entruſted to man: as theſe powers, and theſe only, have put him into thy hand, thou art for⯑bidden to lift it againſt his life; if thou hadſt prevailed againſt him by thy own power, thy own power would not have been reſtrained: to afflict him thou art ſtill free; but thou art not permitted to deſtroy. At the mo⯑ment, in which thou ſhalt conceive a thought to cut him off by violence, the puniſhment of thy diſobedience ſhall commence, and the pangs of death ſhall be upon thee.’ 'If then,' ſaid ALMORAN, ‘this awful power is the friend of HAMET; what yet [117] remains, in the ſtores of thy wiſdom, for me?’ 'Till he dies, ‘I am at once precluded from peace, and ſafety, and enjoyment.’ ‘'Look up,' ſaid the Genius, for the iron hand of de⯑ſpair is not yet upon thee. Thou canſt be happy, only by his death; and his life thou art forbidden to take away: yet mayſt thou ſtill arm him againſt himſelf; and if he dies by his own hand, thy wiſhes will be full.’ 'O name,' ſaid ALMORAN, ‘but the means, and it ſhall this moment be accompliſhed!’ 'Select,' ſaid the Ge⯑nius, 'ſome friend—

At the name of friend, ALMORAN ſtarted and looked round in deſpair. He recollected the perfidy of Oſmyn; and he ſuſpected that, from the ſame [118] cauſe, all were perfidious: ‘While HAMET has yet life,’ ſaid he, ‘I fear the face of man, as of a ſavage that is prowling for his prey.’ ‘Re⯑linquiſh not yet thy hopes, ſaid the Genius;’ ‘for one, in whom thou wilt joyfully confide, may be found. Let him ſecretly obtain admittance to HAMET, as if by ſtealth; let him profeſs an abhorrence of thy reign, and compaſſion for his misfortunes; let him pretend that the rack is even now preparing for him; that death is inevitable, but that torment may be avoided: let him then give him a poignard, as the inſtrument of de⯑liverance; and, perhaps, his own hand may ſtrike the blow, that ſhall give thee peace.’ 'But who,' ſaid ALMO⯑RAN, ‘ſhall go upon this important [119] errand?’ 'Who,' replied the Genius, ‘but thyſelf? Haſt thou not the power to aſſume the form of whomſoever thou wouldſt have ſent?’ ‘I would have ſent Oſmyn,’ ſaid ALMORAN, ‘but that I know him to be a traitor.’ 'Let the form of Oſmyn then,' ſaid the Genius, ‘be thine. The ſhadows of the evening have now ſtretched themſelves upon the earth: com⯑mand Oſmyn to attend thee alone in the grove, where Solyman, thy fa⯑ther, was uſed to meditate by night; and when thy form ſhall be impreſſed upon him, I will there ſeal his eyes in ſleep, till the charm ſhall be broken; ſo ſhall no evil be at⯑tempted againſt thee, and the trans⯑formation ſhall be known only to thyſelf.’

[120] ALMORAN, whoſe breaſt was again illuminated by hope, was about to ex⯑preſs his gratitude and joy; but the Genius ſuddenly diſappeared. He be⯑gan, therefore, immediately to follow the inſtructions that he had received: he commanded Oſmyn to attend him in the grove, and forbad every other to approach; by the power of the ta⯑liſman he aſſumed his appearance, and ſaw him ſink down in the ſupernatural ſlumber before him: he then quitted the place, and prepared to viſit HAMET in the priſon.

CHAP. XVIII.

THE officer who commanded the guard that kept the gate of the priſon, was Caled. He was now next in truſt and power to Oſmyn: but as he had propoſed a revolt to HAMET, in which Oſmyn had refuſed to concur, he knew that his life was now in his power; he dreaded leſt, for ſome ſlight offence, or in ſome fit of cauſeleſs diſpleaſure, he ſhould diſcloſe the ſecret to ALMORAN, who would then certainly condemn him to death. To ſecure this fatal ſecret, and put an end to his inquietude, he reſolved, [122] from the moment that ALMORAN was eſtabliſhed upon the throne, to find ſome opportunity ſecretly to deſtroy Oſmyn: in this reſolution, he was con⯑firmed by the enmity, which inferior minds never fail to conceive againſt that merit, which they cannot but en⯑vy without ſpirit to emulate, and by which they feel themſelves diſgraced without an effort to acquire equal ho⯑nour; it was confirmed alſo by the hope which Caled had conceived, that, upon the death of Oſmyn, he ſhould ſucceed to his poſt: his apprehenſions likewiſe were increaſed, by the gloom which he remarked in the countenance of Oſmyn; and which not knowing that it aroſe from fear, he imputed to jea⯑louſy and malevolence.

[123] When ALMORAN, who had now aſ⯑ſumed the appearance of Oſmyn, had paſſed the ſubterranean avenue to the dungeon in which HAMET was confined, he was met by Caled; of whom he de⯑manded admittance to the prince, and produced his own ſignet, as a teſtimony that he came with the authority of the king. As it was Caled's intereſt to ſecure the favour of Oſmyn till an op⯑portunity ſhould offer to cut him off, he received him with every poſſible mark of reſpect and reverence; and when he was gone into the dungeon, he commanded a beverage to be pre⯑pared for him againſt he ſhould return, in which ſuch ſpices were infuſed, as might expel the malignity which, in that place, might be received with the breath of life; and taking himſelf the [124] key of the priſon, he waited at the door.

When ALMORAN entered the dun⯑geon, with a lamp which he had re⯑ceived from Caled, he found HAMET ſitting upon the ground: his counte⯑nance was impreſſed with the charac⯑ters of grief; but it retained no marks either of anger or fear. When he looked up, and ſaw the features of Oſmyn, he judged that the mutes were behind him; and, therefore, roſe up, to prepare himſelf for death. ALMO⯑RAN beheld his calmneſs and fortitude with the involuntary praiſe of admira⯑tion; yet perſiſted in his purpoſe with⯑out remorſe. 'I am come,' ſaid he, ‘by the command of ALMORAN, to denounce that fate, the bitterneſs of [125] which I will enable thee to avoid.’ And what is there,' ſaid HAMET, ‘in my fortunes, that has prompted thee to the danger of this attempt?’ ‘The utmoſt that I can give thee,’ ſaid ALMORAN, ‘I can give thee with⯑out danger to myſelf: but though I have been placed, by the hand of for⯑tune, near the perſon of the tyrant, yet has my heart in ſecret been thy friend. If I am the meſſenger of evil, impute it to him only by whom it is deviſed. The rack is now pre⯑paring to receive thee; and every art of ingenious cruelty will be ex⯑hauſted to protract and to increaſe the agonies of death.’ 'And what,' ſaid HAMET, ‘can thy friendſhip offer me?’ 'I can offer thee,' ſaid ALMO⯑RAN, ‘that which will at once diſmiſs [126] thee to thoſe regions, where the wick⯑ed ceaſe from troubling, and the weary reſt for ever.’ He then pro⯑duced the poignard from his boſom; and preſenting it to HAMET, ‘Take this, ſaid he, 'and ſleep in peace.'’

HAMET, whoſe heart was touched with ſudden joy at the ſight of ſo un⯑expected a remedy for every evil, did not immediately reflect, that he was not at liberty to apply it: he ſnatched it in a tranſport from the hand of AL⯑MORAN, and expreſſed his ſenſe of the obligation by claſping him in his arms, and ſhedding the tears of gratitude in his breaſt. 'Be quick,' ſaid ALMORAN: ‘this moment I muſt leave thee; and in the next, perhaps, the meſſengers of deſtruction may bind thee to the [127] rack.’ 'I will be quick,' ſaid HA⯑MET; ‘and the ſigh that ſhall laſt linger upon my lips, ſhall bleſs thee.’ They then bid each other farewel: ALMORAN retired from the dungeon, and the door was again cloſed upon HAMET.

Caled, who waited at the door till the ſuppoſed Oſmyn ſhould return, preſented him with the beverage which he had prepared, of which he recounted the virtues; and ALMORAN received it with pleaſure, and having eagerly drank it off, returned to the palace. As ſoon as he was alone, he reſumed his own figure, and ſate, with a confident and impatient expectation, that in a ſhort time a meſſenger would be diſ⯑patched to acquaint him with the death [128] of HAMET. HAMET, in the mean time, having graſped the dagger in his hand, and raiſed his arm for the blow, 'This,' ſaid he, ‘is my paſſport to the realms of peace, the immediate and only object of my hope!’ But at theſe words, his mind inſtantly took the alarm: 'Let me reflect,' ſaid he, ‘a moment: from what can I derive hope in death?—from that patient and perſevering virtue, and from that alone, by which we fulfill the taſk that is aſſigned us upon the earth. Is it not our duty, to ſuffer, as well as to act? If my own hand conſigns me to the grave, what can it do but perpetuate that miſery, which, by diſobedience, I would ſhun? what can it do, but cut off my life and hope together?’ With this reflec⯑tion [129] he threw the dagger from him; and ſtretching himſelf again upon the ground, reſigned himſelf to the diſpo⯑ſal of the Father of man, moſt Merci⯑ful and Almighty.

ALMORAN, who had now reſolved to ſend for the intelligence which he long⯑ed to hear, was diſpatching a meſſen⯑ger to the priſon, when he was told that Caled deſired admittance to his preſence. At the name of Caled, he ſtarted up in an extaſy of joy; and not doubting but that HAMET was dead, he ordered him to be inſtantly admitted. When he came in, ALMO⯑RAN made no enquiry about HAMET, becauſe he would not appear to expect the event, which yet he ſuppoſed he had brought about; he, therefore, [130] aſked him only upon what buſineſs he came. 'I come, my lord,' ſaid he, ‘to apprize thee of the treachery of Oſ⯑myn.’ 'I know,' ſaid ALMORAN, ‘that Oſmyn is a traitor; but of what doſt thou accuſe him?’ 'As I was but now,' ſaid he, ‘changing the guard which is ſet upon HAMET, Oſmyn came up to the door of the priſon, and producing the royal ſig⯑net demanded admittance. As the command which I received, when he was delivered to my cuſtody, was ab⯑ſolute, that no foot ſhould enter, I doubted whether the token had not been obtained, by fraud, for ſome other purpoſe; yet, as he required ad⯑mittance only, I complied: but that if any treachery had been contrived, I might detect it; and that no arti⯑fice [131] might be practiſed to favour an eſcape; I waited myſelf at the door, and liſtening to their diſcourſe I over-heard the treaſon that I ſuſpected.’ 'What then,' ſaid ALMORAN, ‘didſt thou hear?’ A part of what was ſaid,' replied Caled, ‘eſcaped me: but I heard Oſmyn, like a perfidious and preſumptuous ſlave, call ALMORAN a tyrant; I heard him profeſs an in⯑violable friendſhip for HAMET, and aſſure him of deliverance. What were the means, I know not; but he talked of ſpeed, and ſuppoſed that the effect was certain.’

ALMORAN, though he was ſtill im⯑patient to hear of HAMET; and diſco⯑vered, that if he was dead, his death was unknown to Caled; was yet [132] notwithſtanding rejoiced at what he heard: and as he knew what Caled told him to be true, as the converſation he related had paſſed between himſelf and HAMET, he exulted in the pleaſ⯑ing confidence that he had yet a friend; the glooms of ſuſpicion, which had in⯑volved his mind, were diſſipated, and his countenance brightened with com⯑placency and joy. He had delayed to put Oſmyn to death, only becauſe he could appoint no man to ſucceed him, of whom his fears did not render him equally ſuſpicious: but having now found, in Caled, a friend, whoſe fide⯑lity had been approved when there had been no intention to try it; and being impatient to reward his zeal, and to inveſt his fidelity with that power, which would render his ſervices moſt [133] important; he took a ring from his own finger, and putting it upon that of Caled, 'Take this,' ſaid he, ‘as a pledge, that to-morrow Oſmyn ſhall loſe his head; and that, from this moment, thou art inveſted with his power.’

Caled having, in the converſation between ALMORAN and HAMET, diſ⯑cerned indubitable treachery, which he imputed to Oſmyn whoſe appearance AL⯑MORAN had then aſſumed, eagerly ſeized the opportunity to deſtroy him; he, therefore, not truſting to the event of his accuſation, had mingled poiſon in the bowl which he preſented to ALMO⯑RAN when he came out from HAMET: this, however, at firſt he had reſolved to conceal.

[134] In conſequence of his accuſation, he ſuppoſed Oſmyn would be queſtioned upon the rack; he ſuppoſed alſo, that the accuſation, as it was true, would be confirmed by his confeſſion; that what ever he ſhould then ſay to the preju⯑dice of his accuſer, would be diſbe⯑lieved; and that when after a few hours the poiſon ſhould take effect, no inquiſition would be made into the death of a criminal, whom the bow⯑ſtring or the ſcimitar would otherwiſe have been employed to deſtroy. But he now hoped to derive new merit from an act of zeal, which ALMORAN had approved before it was known, by condemning his rival to die, whoſe death he had already inſured: ‘May the wiſhes of my lord,’ ſaid he, ‘be always anticipated; and may it be [135] found, that whatever he ordains is already done: may he accept the zeal of his ſervant, whom he has delight⯑ed to honour; for, before the light of the morning ſhall return, the eyes of Oſmyn ſhall cloſe in everlaſting darkneſs.’

At theſe words, the countenance of ALMORAN changed; his cheeks be⯑came pale, and his lips trembled: 'What then,' ſaid he, ‘haſt thou done?’ Caled, who was terrified and aſtoniſhed, threw himſelf upon the ground, and was unable to reply. AL⯑MORAN, who now, by the utmoſt ef⯑fort of his mind, reſtrained his confu⯑ſion and his fear, that he might learn the truth from Caled without diſſimu⯑lation or diſguiſe, raiſed him from the [136] ground and repeated his enquiry. ‘If I have erred,’ ſaid Caled, ‘impute it not: when I had detected the trea⯑chery of Oſmyn, I was tranſported by my zeal for thee. For proof that he is guilty, I appeal now to himſelf; for he yet lives: but that he might not eſcape the hand of juſtice, I mingled, in the bowl I gave him, the drugs of death.’

At theſe words, ALMORAN, ſtrik⯑ing his hands together, looked up⯑ward in an agony of deſpair and hor⯑ror, and fell back upon a ſofa that was behind him. Caled, whoſe aſtoniſh⯑ment was equal to his diſappointment and his fears, approached him with a trembling though haſty pace; but as he ſtooped to ſupport him, ALMO⯑RAN [137] ſuddenly drew his dagger and ſtabbed him to the heart; and repeat⯑ed the blow with reproaches and exe⯑crations, till his ſtrength failed him.

In this dreadful moment, the Genius once more appeared before him; at the ſight of whom he waved his hand, but was unable to ſpeak. 'Nothing,' ſaid the Genius, ‘that has happened to AL⯑MORAN, is hidden from me. Thy peace has been deſtroyed alike by the defection of Oſmyn, and by the zeal of Caled: thy life may yet be preſerved; but it can be preſerved only by a charm, which HAMET muſt apply.’ ALMORAN, who had raiſed his eyes, and conceived ſome languid hope, when he heard that he might yet [138] live; caſt them again down in deſpair, when he heard that he could receive life only from HAMET. ‘From HA⯑MET,’ ſaid he, ‘I have already taken the power to ſave me; I have, by thy counſel, given him the inſtru⯑ment of death, which, by thy coun⯑ſel alſo, I urged him to uſe: he re⯑ceived it with joy, and he is now doubtleſs numbered with the dead.’ HAMET,' ſaid the Genius, ‘is not dead; but from the fountain of vir⯑tue he drinks life and peace. If what I ſhall propoſe, he refuſes to per⯑form, not all the powers of earth, and ſea, and air, if they ſhould com⯑bine, can give thee life: but if he complies, the death, that is now ſuſ⯑pended over thee, ſhall fall upon his head; and thy life ſhall be again de⯑livered [139] to the hand of time.’ ‘Make haſte then,’ ſaid ALMORAN, ‘and I will here wait the event.’ ‘The event,’ ſaid the Genius, ‘is not diſ⯑ſtant; and it is the laſt experiment which my power can make, either upon him or thee: when the ſtar of the night, that is now near the ho⯑rizon, ſhall ſet, I will be with him.’

When ALMORAN was alone, he re⯑flected, that every act of ſupernatural power which the Genius had enabled him to perform, had brought upon him ſome new calamity, though it always promiſed him ſome new advantage. As he would not impute this diſappoint⯑ment to the purpoſes for which he em⯑ployed the power that he had received, he indulged a ſuſpicion, that it pro⯑ceeded [140] from the perfidy of the Being by whom it was beſtowed; in his mind, therefore, he thus reaſoned with him⯑ſelf: ‘The Genius, who has pretend⯑ed to be the friend of ALMORAN, has been ſecretly in confederacy with HAMET: why elſe do I yet ſigh in vain for ALMEIDA? and why elſe did not HAMET periſh, when his life was in my power? By his counſel, I per⯑ſuaded HAMET to deſtroy himſelf; and, in the very act, I was betrayed to drink the potion, by which I ſhall be deſtroyed: I have been led on, from miſery to miſery, by ineffectual expedients, and fallacious hopes. In this criſis of my fate, I will not truſt, with implicit confidence, in another: I will be preſent at the interview of this powerful, but ſuſpected Being, [141] with HAMET; and who can tell, but that if I detect a fraud, I may be able to diſappoint it: however pow⯑erful, he is not omniſcient; I may, therefore, be preſent, unknown and unſuſpected even by him, in a form that I can chuſe by a thought, to which he cannot be conſcious.’

CHAP. XIX.

IN conſequence of this reſolution, ALMORAN, having commanded one of the ſoldiers of the guard that attended upon HAMET into an inner room of the palace, he ordered him to wait there till his return: then mak⯑ing faſt the door, he aſſumed his fi⯑gure, and went immediately to the dungeon; where producing his ſignet, he ſaid, he had received orders from the king to remain with the priſoner, till the watch expired.

[143] As he entered without ſpeaking, and without a light, HAMET continued ſtretched upon the ground, with his face towards the earth; and ALMO⯑RAN, having ſilently retired to a re⯑mote corner of the place, waited for the appearance of the Genius.

The dawn of the morning now broke; and, in a few minutes, the priſon ſhook, and the Genius appeared. He was viſible by a lambent light that played around him; and HAMET ſtart⯑ing from the ground, turned to the vi⯑ſion with reverence and wonder: but as the Omnipotent was ever preſent to his mind, to whom all beings in all worlds are obedient, and on whom alone he relied for protection, he was neither confuſed nor afraid. 'HAMET,' ſaid [144] the Genius, ‘the criſis of thy fate is near.’ 'Who art thou,' ſaid HAMET, ‘and for what purpoſe art thou come?’ 'I am,' replied the Genius, ‘an inha⯑bitant of the world above thee; and to the will of thy brother, my pow⯑ers have been obedient: upon him they have not conferred happineſs, but they have brought evil upon thee. It was my voice, that forbad thy mar⯑riage with ALMEIDA; and my voice, that decreed the throne to ALMO⯑RAN: I gave him the power to aſ⯑ſume thy form; and, by me, the hand of oppreſſion is now heavy upon thee. Yet I have not decreed, that he ſhould be happy, nor that thou ſhouldſt be wretched: darkneſs as yet reſts upon my purpoſe; but my heart in ſecret is thy friend.’ ‘If [145] thou art, indeed my friend,’ ſaid HAMET, ‘deliver me from this priſon; and preſerve HAMET for ALMEIDA.’ 'Thy deliverance,' ſaid the Genius, ‘muſt depend upon thyſelf. There is a charm, of which the power is great; but it is by thy will only, that this power can be exerted.’

The Genius then held out towards him a ſcroll, on which the ſeal of ſe⯑ven powers was impreſſed. 'Take,' ſaid he, ‘this ſcroll, in which the myſ⯑terious name of Oroſmades is writ⯑ten. Invoke the ſpirits, that reſide weſtward from the riſing of the ſun; and northward, in the regions of cold and darkneſs: then ſtretch out thy hand, and a lamp of ſulphur, ſelf kindled, ſhall burn before thee. In the fire of this lamp, conſume that [146] which I now give thee; and as the ſmoke, into which it changes, ſhall mix with the air, a mighty charm ſhall be formed, which ſhall defend thee from all miſchief: from that inſtant, no poiſon, however potent, can hurt thee; nor ſhall any pri⯑ſon confine: in one moment, thou ſhalt be reſtored to the throne, and to ALMEIDA; and the Angel of death, ſhall lay his hand upon thy brother; to whom, if I had confided this laſt beſt effort of my power, he would have ſe⯑cured the good to himſelf, and have transferred the evil to thee.’

ALMORAN, who had liſtened unſeen to this addreſs of the Genius to HA⯑MET, was now confirmed in his ſuſpici⯑ons, that evil had been ultimately in⯑tended againſt him; and that he had [147] been entangled in the toils of perfidy, while he believed himſelf to be aſſiſted by the efforts of friendſhip: he was alſo convinced, that by the Genius he was not known to be preſent. HAMET, however, ſtood ſtill doubtful, and AL⯑MORAN was kept ſilent by his fears. 'Whoever thou art,' ſaid HAMET, ‘the condition of the advantages which thou haſt offered me, is ſuch as it is not lawful to fulfill: theſe horrid rites, and this commerce with unholy powers, are prohibited to mortals in the Law of life.’ 'See thou to that,' ſaid the Genius: ‘Good and evil are before thee; that which I now offer thee, I will offer no more.’

HAMET, who had not fortitude to give up at once the poſſibility of ſe⯑curing [148] the advantages that had been of⯑fered, and who was ſeduced by human frailty to deliberate at leaſt upon the choice; ſtretched out his hand, and re⯑ceiving the ſcroll, the Genius inſtantly diſappeared. That which had been propoſed as a trial of his virtue, AL⯑MORAN believed indeed to be an offer of advantage; he had no hope, there⯑fore, but that HAMET would refuſe the conditions, and that he ſhould be able to obtain the taliſman, and fulfill them himſelf: he judged that the mind of HAMET was in ſuſpenſe, and was doubtful to which ſide it might finally incline; he, therefore, inſtantly aſſumed the voice and the perſon of OMAR, that by the influence of his council he might be able to turn the ſcale.

[149] When the change was effected, he called HAMET by his name; and HA⯑MET, who knew the voice, anſwered him in a tranſport of joy and wonder: 'My friend,' ſaid he, ‘my father! in this dreary ſolitude, in this hour of trial, thou art welcome to my ſoul as liberty and life! Guide me to thee by thy voice; and tell me, while I hold thee to my boſom, how and wherefore thou art come?’ ‘Do not now aſk me,’ ſaid ALMORAN: ‘it is enough that I am here; and that I am permitted to warn thee of the precipice, on which thou ſtand⯑eſt. It is enough, that concealed in this darkneſs, I have overheard the ſpecious guile, which ſome evil de⯑mon has practiſed upon thee.’ ‘Is it then certain,’ ſaid HAMET, ‘that [150] this being is evil?’ ‘Is not that be⯑ing evil, ſaid ALMORAN,’ ‘who pro⯑poſes evil, as the condition of good?’ 'Shall I then,' ſaid HAMET, ‘renounce my liberty and life? The rack is now ready; and, perhaps, the next mo⯑ment, its tortures will be inevitable.’ 'Let me aſk thee then,' ſaid ALMO⯑RAN, ‘to preſerve thy life, wilt thou deſtroy thy ſoul?’ 'O! ſtay,' ſaid HAMET‘—Let me not be tried too far! Let the ſtrength of Him who is Almighty, be manifeſt in my weak⯑neſs!’ HAMET then pauſed a few mo⯑ments; but he was no longer in doubt: and ALMORAN, who diſbe⯑lieved and deſpiſed the arguments, by which he intended to perſuade him to renounce what, upon the ſame condi⯑tion, he was impatient to ſecure for [151] himſelf, conceived hopes that he ſhould ſucceed; and thoſe hopes were inſtantly confirmed.' 'Take then,' ſaid HA⯑MET, ‘this unholy charm; and re⯑move it far from me, as the ſands of Alai from the trees of Oman; leſt, in ſome dreadful hour, my virtue may fail me, and thy counſel may be want⯑ing!’ Give it me then,' ſaid ALMO⯑RAN; and feeling for the hands of each other, he ſnatched it from him in an extaſy of joy, and inſtantly reſuming his own voice and figure, he cried out, ‘At length I have prevailed: and life and love, dominion and revenge, are now at once in my hand!’

HAMET heard and knew the voice of his brother, with aſtoniſhment; but it was too late to wiſh that he had with⯑held [152] the charm, which his virtue would not permit him to uſe. ‘Yet a few moments paſs,’ ſaid ALMORAN, ‘and thou art nothing.’ HAMET, who doubted not of the power of the ta⯑liſman, and knew that ALMORAN had no principles which would reſtrain him from uſing it to his deſtruction, reſign⯑ed himſelf to death, with a ſacred joy that he had eſcaped from guilt. AL⯑MORAN then, with an elation of mind that ſparkled in his eyes, and glowed upon his cheek, ſtretched out his hand, in which he held the ſcroll; and a lamp of burning ſulphur was immediately ſuſpended in the air before him: he held the myſterious writing in the flame; and as it began to burn, the place ſhook with reiterated thunder, of which every peal was more terrible and more [153] loud. HAMET, wrapping his robe round him, cried out, ‘In the Fountain of Life that flows for ever, let my life be mingled! Let me not be, as if I had never been; but ſtill conſcious of my being, let me ſtill glorify Him from whom it is derived, and be ſtill happy in his love!’

ALMORAN, who was abſorbed in the anticipation of his own felicity, heard the thunder without dread, as the proclamation of his triumph: ‘Let thy hopes,’ ſaid he, ‘be thy por⯑tion; and the pleaſures that I have ſecured, ſhall be mine.’ As he pro⯑nounced theſe words, he ſtarted as at a ſudden pang; his eyes became fixed, and his poſture immoveable; yet his ſenſes ſtill remained, and he perceived [154] the Genius once more to ſtand before him. 'ALMORAN,' ſaid he, ‘to the laſt founds which thou ſhalt hear, let thine ear be attentive! Of the ſpirits that rejoice to fulfill the purpoſe of the Almighty, I am one. To HA⯑MET, and to ALMORAN, I have been commiſſioned from above: I have been appointed to perfect virtue, by adverſity; and in the folly of her own projects, to entangle vice. The charm, which could be formed only by guilt, has power only to produce miſery: of every good, which thou, ALMORAN, wouldſt have ſecured by diſobedience, the oppoſite evil is thy portion; and of every evil, which thou, HAMET, waſt, by obedience, willing to incur, the oppoſite good is beſtowed upon thee. To thee, HA⯑MET, [155] are now given the throne of thy father, and ALMEIDA. And thou, ALMORAN, who, while I ſpeak, art incorporating with the earth, ſhalt re⯑main, through all generations, a me⯑morial of the truths which thy life has taught!’

At the words of the Genius, the earth trembled beneath, and above the walls of the priſon diſappeared: the fi⯑gure of ALMORAN, which was har⯑dened into ſtone, expanded by degrees; and a rock, by which his form and at⯑titude are ſtill rudely expreſſed, became at once a monument of his puniſhment and his guilt.

Such are the events recorded by AC⯑MET, the deſcendant of the Prophet, [156] and the preacher of righteouſneſs! for, to ACMET, that which paſſed in ſecret was revealed by the Angel of inſtruc⯑tion, that the world might know, that, to the wicked, increaſe of power is in⯑creaſe of wretchedneſs; and that thoſe who condemn the folly of an attempt to defeat the purpoſe of a Genius, might no longer hope to elude the ap⯑pointment of the Moſt High.