Has. Sultan, I have out-run your bounty in my promises; and one poor, unhappy female——
Sul. No—you named yourself the number to release, and it is fixed—I'll not increase it.
Has. A poor, miserable female——
Sul. Am I less miserable than she is?—And who shall release me from my sorrows?
Has. Then let me tell you, Sultan, she is above your power to oblige, or to punish.—Ten years, nay more, confinement in a drear cell has been no greater punishment to her, than had she lived in a pleasant world without the man she loved.
Sul. Hah!
Has. And freedom offered she rejects with scorn, because he is not included in the blessing.
Sul. You talk of prodigies!—[He makes a sign for the Guards to retire, and they exit.]—and yet I once knew a heart equal to this description.
Has. Nay, will you see her?—Witness yourself the fact?
Sul. Why do I tremble?—My busy fancy presents an image——