Page:Works of Voltaire Volume 16.djvu/34

 18 His idle tales, and fancied miracles: These spread sedition through the gaping throng, Invite his forces, and believe a God Inspires and renders him invincible. The lovers of their country think with you, But wisest counsels are not always followed; False zeal, and fear, and love of novelty Alarm the crowd; already half our city Is left unpeopled; Mecca cries aloud To thee her father, and demands a peace.

Peace with a traitor! coward nation, what Can you expect but slavery from a tyrant! Go, bend your supple knees, and prostrate fall Before the idol whose oppressive hand Shall crush you all: for me, I hate the traitor; This heart’s too deeply wounded to forgive: The savage murderer robbed me of a wife And two dear children: nor is his resentment Less fierce than mine; I forced his camp, pursued The coward to his tent, and slew his son: The torch of hatred is lit up between us, And time can never extinguish it.

I hope It never will; yet thou shouldst hide the flame, And sacrifice thy griefs to public good: What if he lay this noble city waste, Will that avenge thee, will that serve thy cause? Thou hast lost all, son, brother, daughter, wife. Mecca alone remains to give thee comfort, Do not lose that, do not destroy thy country.

Kingdoms are lost by cowardice alone.