Bend. Yet better.

Emp. Ha! what’s that grizly fellow, that attends thee?

Bend. Why ask you, sir?

Emp. For he was in my dream, And helped to heave me up.

Bend. With prayers and wishes; For I dare swear him honest.

Emp. That may be; But yet he looks damnation.

Bend. You forget The face would please you better.  Do you love, And can you thus forbear?

Emp. I’ll head my people, Then think of dalliance when the danger’s o’er.  My warlike spirits work now another way, And my soul’s tuned to trumpets.

Bend. You debase yourself,
To think of mixing with the ignoble herd;
Let such perform the servile work of war,
Such who have no Almeyda to enjoy. 
What, shall the people know their god-like prince
Skulked in a nightly skirmish?  Stole a conquest,
Headed a rabble, and profaned his person,
Shouldered with filth, borne in a tide of ordure,
And stifled with their rank offensive sweat?

Emp. I am off again; I will not prostitute The regal dignity so far, to head them.

Bend. There spoke a king.  Dismiss your guards, to be employed elsewhere In ruder combats; you will want no seconds In those alarms you seek.

Emp. Go, join the crowd;—­ [To the Guards.
Benducar, thou shalt lead them in my place. [Exeunt Guards.
The God of Love once more has shot his fires
Into my soul, and my whole heart receives him. 
Almeyda now returns with all her charms;
I feel her as she glides along my veins,
And dances in my blood.  So when our prophet
Had long been hammering, in his lonely cell,
Some dull, insipid, tedious Paradise,
A brisk Arabian girl came tripping by;
Passing she cast at him a side-long glance,
And looked behind, in hopes to be pursued: 
He took the hint, embraced the flying fair,
And, having found his heaven, he fixed it there. [Exit Emperor.

Bend. That Paradise thou never shalt possess. 
His death is easy now, his guards are gone,
And I can sin but once to seize the throne;
All after-acts are sanctified by power.

Orc. Command my sword and life.

Bend. I thank thee, Orchan,
And shall reward thy faith.  This master-key
Frees every lock, and leads us to his person;
And, should we miss our blow,—­as heaven forbid!—­
Secures retreat.  Leave open all behind us;
And first set wide the Mufti’s garden gate,
Which is his private passage to the palace;
For there our mutineers appoint to meet,
And thence we may have aid.—­Now sleep, ye stars,
That silently o’erwatch the fate of kings! 
Be all propitious influences barred,
And none but murderous planets mount the guard. [Exit with ORCHAN.

SCENE II.—­A Night-Scene of the Mufti’s Garden.