Collected Works (Vol. I)

THE FATAL FORCE 153 THE LEPER. Myself do know, I await the event. Inquire not of your fate ! Mayhap. Ye shall know. AMENHATEDP. We shall be patient, and we shall be strong. THE LEPER. The corridor This is the The noise of rushing feet ! Rings with their scurrying fear. end. [Luter a flying soldier, crying aloud, and seeks a hiding-place. Speak not, thou trembling slave: we under- stand ! [Zhe soldier slips on the marble floor, and lies groaning. AMENHATEDP. See that due silence greets catastrophe ! No word from now without command of mine. [Szlence. Then grows a notse of men jighting, Gc. ; above this after a while rises a shrill laughter, terrify- tng to hear. Then cries of victory and the triumphant laugh of a great conqueror. Hts heavy step, and that of his staff, Gec., ts next heard com- ing masterfully dowit the corridor. | Lhe soldier gives a shriek. THE LEPER. The Syrian must not see a cur like this Cower at death. For Egypt’s honour, | then ! Give me that spear. [Aszée.] That royalty’s own hand Should send this thing to his long misery ! [Zaking a spear, he runs through the soldter. The KING OF SYRIA, attended, enters. KING OF SYRIA. Your armies beaten back before my faxe, Your weapons broken, I am come t tuke The crown from her pale brows that s:‘teth there. THE LEPER. The Queen is dead: Iam the King of Egypt. To-day I saved the house from its own shame By strange ways: I will strike one blow to save The land from its invaders. In the name Of all our gods, I here invoke on thee The spirit of my leprosy. Have at you! [Sprizgs at the KING OF SYRIA, only to be transfixed on his drawn sword ; but he succeeds in clasping the Atng, who staggers. His sol- diers, with a shout, rush forward, drag down THE LEPER and attack the priests. All are slain. Silence: then a shield drops, clanging on the ground. KING OF SYRIA (assuming crown and sitting on throne). Salute the conqueror of the Egyptian land! [ Zhe soldiers salute and cheer. I am a leper: get ye hence! [Axeunt soldiers. Unclean! [Sz/ence. This was the hour that my ambitious hopes Centred upon: and now I grasp the hour— So fares mortality. [ Selence. Unclean ! unclean ! CURTAIN,