erous planets mount the guard. [_Exit with_ ORCHAN.

SCENE II.--_A Night-Scene of the Mufti's Garden._

_Enter the Mufti alone, in a Slave's Habit, like that of_ ANTONIO.

_Muf._ This it is to have a sound head-piece; by this I have got to be
chief of my religion; that is, honestly speaking, to teach others what
I neither know nor believe myself. For what's Mahomet to me, but that
I get by him? Now for my policy of this night: I have mewed up my
suspected spouse in her chamber;--no more embassies to that lusty
young stallion of a gardener. Next, my habit of a slave; I have made
myself as like him as I can, all but his youth and vigour; which when
I had, I passed my time as well as any of my holy predecessors. Now,
walking under the windows of my seraglio, if Johayma look out, she
will certainly take me for Antonio, and call to me; and by that I
shall know what concupiscence is working in her. She cannot come down
to commit iniquity, there's my safety; but if she peep, if she put her
nose abroad, there's demonstration of her pious will; and I'll not
make the first precedent for a churchman to forgive injuries.

_Enter_ MORAYMA, _running to him with a Casket in her hand, and
embracing him._

_Mor._ Now I can embrace you with a good conscience; here are the
pearls and jewels, here's my father.

_Muf._ I am indeed thy father; but how the devil didst thou know me in
this disguise? and what pearls and jewels dost thou mean?

_Mor._ [_Going back._] What have I done, and what will now become of
me!

_Muf._ Art thou mad, Morayma?

_Mor._ I think you'll make me so.

_Muf._ Why, what have I done to thee? Recollect thyself, and speak
sense to me.

_Mor._ Then give me leave to tell you, you are the worst of fathers.

_Muf._ Did I think I had begotten such a monster!--Proceed, my dutiful
child, proceed, proceed.

_Mor._ You have been raking together a mass of wealth, by indirect and
wicked means: the spoils of orphans are in these jewels, and the tears
of widows in these pearls.

_Muf._ Thou amazest me!

_Mor._ I would do so. This casket is loaded with your sins; 'tis the
cargo of rapines, simony, and extortions; the iniquity of thirty years
muftiship converted into diamonds.

_Muf._ Would some rich railing rogue would say as much to me, that I
might squeeze his purse for scandal!

_Mor._ No, sir, you get more by pious fools than railers, when you
insinuate into their families, manage their fortunes wh