_Sul._ My Arabella,--a lovely European, sent hither in her youth, by her mercenary parents, to sell herself to the prince of all these territories. But 'twas my happy lot, in humble life, to win her love, snatch her from his expecting arms, and bear her far away--where, in peaceful solitude we lived, till, in the heat of the rebellion against the late Sultan, I was forced from my happy home to bear a part.--I chose the imputed rebels side, and fought for the young aspirer.--An arrow, in the midst of the engagement, pierced his heart; and his officers, alarmed at the terror this stroke of fate might cause amongst their troops, urged me (as I bore his likeness) to counterfeit it farther, and shew myself to the soldiers as their king recovered. I yielded to their suit, because it gave me ample power to avenge the loss of my Arabella, who had been taken from her home by the merciless foe, and barbarously murdered. _Has._ Murdered! _Sul._ I learnt so--and my fruitless search to find her since has confirmed the intelligence.--Frantic for her loss, I joyfully embraced a scheme which promised vengeance on the enemy--it prospered,--and I revenged my wrongs and her's, with such unsparing justice on the foe, that even the men who made me what I was, trembled to reveal their imposition; and they find it still their interest to continue it. _Has._ Amazement! _Sul._ Nay, they fill my prisons every day with wretches, that dare whisper I am not the real Sultan, but a stranger. The secret, therefore, I myself safely relate in private: the danger is to him who speaks it again; and, with this caution, I trust, it is safe with you. _Has._ It was, without that caution.--Now hear me.----Involved in deeds, in cruelties, which your better thoughts revolt at, the meanest wretch your camps or prisons hold, claims not half the compassion _you_ have excited. Permit me, then, to be your comforter, as I have been theirs. _Sul._ Impossible! _Has._ In the most fatal symptoms I have undertaken the body's cure. The mind's disease, perhaps, I'm not less a stranger to--Oh! trust the noble patient to my care. _Sul._ How will you begin? _Has._ Lead you to behold the wretched in their misery, and then shew you yourself in their deliverer.----I have your promise for a boon--'tis this.--Give me the liberty of six that I shall name, now in confinement, and be yourself a witness of their enlargement.--See joy lighted in the countenance where sorrow still has left its rough remains.--Behold the tear of rapture chase away that of anguish--hear the faultering voice, long used to lamentation, in broken accents, utter thanks and blessings.--Behold this scene, and if you find the medicine ineffectual, dishonour your physician. _Sul._ I will behold it.