The Empress of Morocco a tragedy, with sculptures / written by Elkanah Settle ...

The Empress of Morocco a tragedy, with sculptures / written by Elkanah Settle ...

Table of contents

Title page

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY, EARL of Norwich, and EARL-Marshal of ENGLAND, &c.

The first Prologue at Court, spoken by the Lady ELIZABETH HOWARD.

The second Prologue at Court, spoken by the Lady ELIZABETH HOWARD.

PROLOGUE At the Play House.

The Actors Names.

THE EMPRESS OF MOROCCO.

The First Act,

Scene the First.

Act the Second,

Scene the First.

The Scene opened.

Act the Third,

Scene the First.

Scene a Bed-Chamber.

The Scene changes to an Anti-Chamber.

§

Scene the second, the Scene a Prison.

Act the Fourth,

Scene the First.

Scene the Second.

Scene the Third, the Scene a Tent.

The Mask.

The Fifth Act.

§

The Scene Changes.

§

EPILOGUE.

ERRATA

§

[Page]

[figure]

[Page]The Empress of MOROCCO.

A TRAGEDY.

WITH Sculptures.

As it is Acted at the Duke's Theatre.

Written by Elkanah Settle, Servant to his Majesty.

‘Prim [...]s da versibus annos.’ Petr. Arb.

LONDON,

Printed for William Cademan at the Popes-head in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange in the Strand, 1673.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY, EARL of Norwich, and EARL-Marshal of ENGLAND, &c.

[Page]

[Page]

My Lord,

THe Impudence of Scriblers in this Age, has so corrupted the Original Designe of Dedications, that before I dare tell you, this trifle begs your Lordships Protection, I ought first to Examine on what grounds I make the Attacque; for now every thing that e're saw the Stage, how modest soever it has been there, without daring to shew 'its Face above three Dayes, has yet the Arrogance to thrust it self into the World in Print with a Great Name before it: Where the fawning Scribler shall compendiously say, the factions of Critiques, the Ill time of the Year, and the worse Acting of the Players, has prejudiced his Play, but he doubts not but his Grace, or his Honour's more impartial Judgment will find that pardonable which the World has so Maliciously Censur'd; that is as much as to say: Sir, You are the only Person at Court whose blind side I dare venture on, not doubting but your good Nature will excuse what all the World (except the Author) has justly condemned. Thus they esteem their Plays, as the Fanaticks do their Religion, the better for suffering Persecution; and to disguise their Shame, and prop their Feeble Writings, they make Dedications when their Playes are Damn'd, as the Dutch do Bonefires, when their Navies are beaten; be their Success never so bad, they still write themselves Conquerors: And thus a Dedication which was forme [...]ly a Present to a Person of Quality, is now made a Libel on him, whilst the Poet either supposes his Patron to be so great a Sot, to defend that in Print, which he hist off the Stage: Or else makes himself a greater, [Page] in a [...]king a Favour from him which he ne're expects to obtain. However, that which is an abuse to the Patron, is a Complement to the Bookseller, who whispers the Poet, and tells him, Sir, Your Play had misfortune, and all that— but if you'd but writ [...] a Dedication, or Preface— The Poet takes the hint, picks out a person of Honour, tell him he has a great deal of Wit, gives us an account who writ [...]ense in the last Age, supposing we cannot be Ignorant who writes it in This; Disputes the nature of Verse, A [...]swers a Cavil or two, Quibles upon the Court, Huffs the Critiques, and the work's done. 'Tis not to be imagin'd how far a Sheet of this goes to make a Book-seller Rich, and a Poet Famous.

But my Lord, whilst I trouble you with this kind of discourse, I beg you would not think I design to give Rules to the Press, as some of our Tribe have done to the Stage; or that I find fault with their Dedications in Complement to my own: No, that's a trick [...] do not pretend to. Besides your particular Favours, in the publick Honours you have condescended to grant this Play, and the Author, have heightned my sense of Gratitude beyond my Power of expressing it. This Play, which for no other Merit▪ [...] take Sanctuary here, throws it self at your feet, as your own: the Story of which, I owe to your Hands, and your honourable Embassy into Africa: And on that score I present it to your Patronage, as the Jews made their Sacrifices which we read took fire from Heaven: The Incense was lighted by that Divinity to whom it was offer'd; nor is this all I may modestly boast of: For besides it's noble Birth, you g [...]ve it a noble Education, when you bred it up amongst Princes, presenting it in a Court-Theatre, and by persons of such Birth and Honour, that they borrow'd no Greatness from the Characters they acted. Thus has your Lordship shew'd your self so great a Friend to the Muses; that as in former ages the Poet made the Patron: When all that's left of a Maecenas, is, that Horace gave him a Name: Your influence on the Contrary makes the Poet, and if this Play Live, or have Success enough to preserve a Name; 'tis by being your Creature, and enjoying your Smiles; which is the highest Ambition of

MY LORD,

Your Lordships most Obliged, and most Obedient Servant, Elkanah Settle.

The first Prologue at Court, spoken by the Lady ELIZABETH HOWARD.

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I Wish you only did expect to day,

A common Prologue to some usual Play.

For when young Ladies are to speak to Kings,

You look that they should say no Vulgar things▪

'Tis below us what meaner Actors do:

Either [...]'excuse our selves, or rail at You.

Nor come you here as to the Common Pit,

With the lest hope of finding fault with Wit.

Loves gentler Thoughts possess the Men of Sense:

At lest it shall be so, e're they go hence.

Gallants take warning then: 't [...]s time to fear;

When Youth and Beauties on the Stage appear.

Those Charms else-where are pretty dangerous found:

But here we shoot upon a Rising Ground.

No Heart can scape we have a mind to hit,

Unless 'tis guarded by some Eyes 'ith Pit.

To Hearts engag'd our power does not extend:

And therefore▪ Sir, to you we humbly bend.

To the King.

Yet from your Constancy we need not fear:

To all fair Nymphs you keep an open Ear.

No watching Eyes, those soft alluring Wiles,

Can hinder you from giving Gracious Smiles.

Now for the Men: Their praise should next be shewn;

But that I think▪ were better let alone.

Written by the Earl of Mulgrave.

The second Prologue at Court, spoken by the Lady ELIZABETH HOWARD.

WIT has of late took up a Trick t'appear,

Unmannerly, or at the best severe.

And Poets share the Fate by which we fall,

When kindly we attempt to please you all.

'Tis hard, your scorn should against such prevail,

Whose ends are to divert you, tho' they fail.

[Page]You Men would think it an ilnatur'd Jest,

Should we laugh at you when you did your best.

Then rail not here, though you see reason for't.

If Wit can find it self no better sport;

Wit is a very foolish thing at Court.

Wit's bus'ness is to please, and not to fright,

'Tis no Wit to be always in the right:

You'l find it none, who dare be so to night.

Few so ill-bred will venture to a Play,

To spy out Faults in what we Women say.

For us no matter what we speak, but how:

How kindly can we say— I hate you now.

And for the men, if you'l laugh at e'm, do;

They mind themselves so much, they'l ne're mind you.—

But why do I descend to lose a Prayer

On those small Saints in Wit, the God sits there.

To you (Great Sir) my Message hither tends,

From Youth and Beauty your Allies and Friends.

See my Credentials written in my Face,

They challenge your Protection in this place:

And hither come with such a Force of Charms,

As may give check even to your prosp'rous Armes:

Millions of Cupids hovering in the Rear,

Like Eagles following fatal Troops, appear.

All waiting for the slaughter, which draws nigh,

Of those bold Gazers, who this Night must dye.

Nor can you 'scape our soft Captivitie,

From which old Age alone must set you free.

Then tremble at the fatal Consequence—

Since, 'tis well known for your own part (Great Prince)

'Gainst us you still have made a weak Defence.—

Be generous, and wise, and take our part;

Remember we have Eyes, and you a Heart.

Else you may find, too late, that we are things

Born to kill Vassals, and to conquer Kings,

But oh! to what vain Conquest I pretend,

Whil [...]st Love is our Commander, and your Friend.

Our Victory your Empire more assures,

[...]or Love will ever make the Triumph yours.

Written by the Earl of Rochester.

PROLOGUE At the Play House.

[Page]

FOr this days Treatment you have pai'd too deare.

Your best belov'd diversion is not here,

All you're now like to have is a dull Play.

The Wells have stoln the Vizar Masks away.

Now punk in penitential Drink begins,

To purge the surfeit of her London Sins.

Their Loves have been o're▪stockt, and but make stop,

For a new tillage tow'rds another Crop.

'Tis seasonable sometimes to forbeare:

Alass it is not Harvest all the Year.

Though heated they like tatter'd Ships keep in,

They stay but to refit, then Lanch again.

Be honest then one Day, and patient sit,

With neither baudy in the Play, nor Pit.

And though thus far you to your loss are come,

What's yet still worse you must drive Empty home.

Nor when Play's done need the shamefaced Debauch▪

Change the guilt Chariot for the hackney Coach.

Then since our sober Andience denyes

You furious men of prey all hopes of prize:

To▪ see the Play should be your only Ends,

Wee'le then presume you are the Authors Friends.

And though you miss your dear delights, you may

Be to the Poet kind, and Clap the Play:

Your Hands are now employ'd no other Way.

The Actors Names.

[Page]

Muly Labas, Son to the Emperour of Morocco. Mr. Harris.

Muly Hamet, a Prince of the Royal Blood, contracted to Mariamne, and General of the Emperours Forces. Mr. Smith.

Crimalhaz, a Courtier and Gallant to the Queen Mother. Mr. Batterton.

Hametalhaz, his Confident and Creature, Governour of a Castle in Morocco. Mr. Medbourne.

Abdelcador, Friend to Muly Hamet. Mr. Crosby.

Achmat, An Eunuch

Laula, Empress of Morocco, and Mother to Muly Labas and Mariamne. Mris. Batterton.

Mariamne her Daughter. Mris. Mary Lee.

Morena, Daughter to Taffalet. Mris. Johnson.

Villains, Lords, Messengers, Priests, Masquers, and other Attendants.

THE EMPRESS OF MOROCCO.

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The First Act,

Scene the First.

[Page]

Scene opens, Muly Labas appears bound in Chains, attended by Guards.

Muly L.

COndemn'd to Fetters, and to Scepters born!

'Tis in this Garb unhappy Princes mourn.

Yet Fortune to great Courages is kind;

'Tis he wants Liberty whose Soul's confin'd.

My Thoughts out-fly that mighty Conqueror,

Who having one World vanquish'd, wept for more:

Fetter'd in Empires, he enlargement crav'd

To the short Walk of one poor Globe enslav'd.

My Soul mounts higher, and Fates Pow'r disdains,

And makes me reign a Monarch in my Chains.

But 'tis my Father has decreed my fate;

Yet still he shews his Greatness in his hate.

[Page]Thy rage, brave Prince, mean Subjects does despise;

None but thy Son shall be thy Sacrifice.

Enter Morena bound.

This dazling Object my weak sight invades:

Such Beauty would make Dungeons lose their shades.

Moren.

Remember, Sir, when first you were a Guest

To Taffale [...]a's Court, and to my Brea [...]t,

That I, fond Woman▪ in a [...] shape,

Was a Conspirator in my own Rape,

When in a fatal night, whose darkness did

Both our Escapes, and my faint Blushes hide:

With You I fled my Countrey, left a Crown,

Heir o [...]ly [...]ow t' [...]n [...];

And now for refuge to M [...]rocco come,

We in your Fathers Court receive this doom;

points to her Chains.

Our Love from him this Entertainment gains;

We in our Sanct [...]ary meet our Chains:

Our Fathers too have now proclaim'd a War;

By Taffaletta's Arms we are pursu'd.

Our amorous flights like threatning Comets are,

Which thus draw after them a train of Bloud.

Muly L.

Why do you thus [...] sad relation make

Of all that you have suffer'd for my sake,

Unless you my Unworthiness resent,

And of your misplaced kindnesses repent?

Moren.

No, I recount the Scenes of our past storms,

To arm your Fancy for more pleasing forms;

I come to tell you that your Father's kind,

And has our mutual Happiness design'd.

Of our past Woes I have this relation given,

As Purgatory does make way for Heaven.

Muly L.

This does disperse my Fears, checks my Despair:

And has my Father — Shall we then — and are

Our Loves and Hopes — Oh my u [...]ruly Joy

Which does my Thoughts so in their Birth dest [...]oy,

[Page]That my disorder'd Words no form can bear!

Speak then what You would say, and I would hear.

Moren.

He has pronoun [...]'d such great and glorious things,

As are fit only for the Breath of Kings:

Our happy Passion he so far approves,

That ere three days expire he'l crown our Loves.

Know then, to grant our Souls a stric [...]r Tye,

He has decreed — we shall together Dye.

Muly L.

How are my visionary Dreams retir'd,

And my fond Hopes in the Embrace expir'd?

Mor.

That day my Father Taffaletta's Arms

To this proud City give their first Alarms,

His Standard fix't before Moro [...]co's Walls,

Muly Labas and his Morena falls.

He for my Murder does this reason plead,

He will present my Father with my Head.

That sudden Blow, which he designs for you,

'Tis your suspected Treason prompts him to:

And the same Jealousie that made his Breath

Decree your Chains, makes him pronounce your Death.

Muly L.

I freely at his feet my Life will throw;

Life is a debt we to our Parents ow.

But die suspected! Can he think so fou [...]

A Thought as Treason harbours in his Soul,

Which does Morena's sacred Image bear!

No shape of ill can come within her Sphear.

But must Morena fall? when e [...]re she bleeds,

He no severer a Damnation needs,

That dares pronounce the Sentence of her Death,

Than the Infection that attends that Breath.

Moren.

Hold, Sir, and your unmanly fears remove,

And shew your Courage equal to your Love:

Let us to Death in solemn Triumph go,

As to the nobler Nuptials of the two:

For when we're dead, and our freed Souls enlarg'd,

of Natures grosser burdens we're discharg'd:

[Page]Then gentle as a happy Lovers Sigh,

Like wandring Meteors through the Air we'l fly;

And in our a [...]ry Walk, as subtil Guests,

We'l steal into our cruel Fathers Breasts,

There read their Souls, and track each Passions sphear,

See how Revenge moves there, Ambition here:

And in their Orbs view the dark Characters

Of Si [...]ges, Ruins, Murders, Blood and Wars.

We'l blot out all those hideous Droughts, and wr [...]te

Pure and wh [...]te forms; we'l with a radiant light

Their Breasts incircle, till their Passions be

Gentle as Nature in its Infancy;

Till soften'd by our Charms their Furies cease,

And their Revenge dissolves into a Peace.

Thus by our Death appeas'd, their Quarrel ends:

Whom Living we made Foes, Dead we'l make Friends.

Muly L.

Oh generous Princess! whose couragious Breath

Can set such glorious Characters on Death:

The antient World did but too modest prove,

In giving a Divinity to Love.

Love the great Pow'r oth' higher World controuls,

Heaven but creates, but Love re [...]ines our Souls.

Enter to them Q. Mother weeping.

Q. Moth.

Oh Son! your Royal Father —

Muly L.

—Hold! your Tears

Confound my hopes. O my presaging fears!

Has he — it cannot be — has he decreed —

Morena must not, no, she shall not bleed:

The Skies would blush when that bold deed were done,

And look more red than at a setting Sun.

Q▪ Moth.

'Tis not Morena who is doom'd to dy.

Muly L.

Has he decreed I shall her place supply?

If so, thanks my kind Father, thou hast done

The only deed that could oblige a Son:

If I to save your Life resign my own

to Morena.

I shall more glorious shine than on his Throne.

[Page]Q. Moth.

That object which your Mothers tears procures

Is your great Fathers sudden fate, not yours.

Muly L.

My Father! ha!

Q. Moth.

— is dead. Just as he sate

Pronouncing yours and your Morena's fate;

A sudden Check his hasty Breath controul'd,

He startled, trembled, and his Eye▪ balls rould,

His wandring fears, his unshap'd thoughts supply'd

With horrours; then Muly Labas he cry'd,

Forgive what my mistaken Rage has done,

In peace possess thy Mistress and my Throne:

Then with his dying Breath his Soul retir'd,

And in a sullen sigh his Life expir'd.

Muly L.

The Emperour dead! and with his dying Breath

Did he Morena to his Son bequeath?

He in this Gift a Father has out-don,

And robs me of the Duty of a Son;

For those just Tears, which Nature ought t'imploy,

To pay my last Debt to his Memory,

The Crowning of my Pass [...]on disallows;

Grief slightly sits on happy Lovers Brows.

Enter Crimalhaz and Hametalhaz, with Attendants.

A Shout within.

All

Long live Muly Labas Emperour of Morocco.

Crim.

Welcome, brave Prince, to your great Fathers Crown,

Advancing from a Prison to a Throne:

The City does in one full shout concur,

And in one voice proclaim you Emperour:

Yet, Sir, your Freedom must not reach so far,

But this fair Princess Chains you still must wear.

The Sun, Great Sir, must in one circuit view

Your Coronation and your Nuptials too.

Muly L.

Enjoy a Throne, and my Morena wedd!

A Joy too great were not my Father dead.

[Page]The Force of one the others Pow'r controuls:

Heav'n fits our swelling Passions to our Souls.

When some great Fortune to mankind's convey'd

Such Blessings are by Providence allay'd.

Thus Nature to the World a Sun creates,

But with cold Winds his pointed Rays rebates.

Exit Muly L. leading Morena.

Q Moth.

Besotted in thy Love and Empires Charms,

Sleep, and grow dull in your Morena's Arms.

'Twas not for this I rais'd thee to a Crown,

Poison'd the Father to enthrone the Son:

Hadst thou been ripe for Death, we had decreed,

Thou shouldst him in his Fate, not Throne, succeed:

Thy early growth we in thy Chains had crusht,

And mix'd thy Ashes with thy Fathers Dust.

But live, fond Boy: to manage our Design,

We first must thy Great General undermine.

They, who by Policy a Crown pursue,

Snatch at one Grasp the Sword and Scepter too.

Then wee'l with ease depose an Armless King:

Men sport with Serpents when they've lost their Sting.

When our Designs to the full height succeed

I'le place the Crown Imperial on your Head.

to Crimalhaz.

Sir, of your Progress a Relation make,

How died the King? how did the Poison take?

Crim.

With safety I accomplish'd your desire;

For Hell and Night did in the deed conspire.

As if He by some secret instinct knew

The fatal Potion had been sent by you:

Up from his Seat he rose, and sighing cried,

O unkind Laula! and then groan'd and died.

His Death so much of horrour did present,

I curs'd my Hand for being the Instrument:

A strange unusual trembling shook my Heart,

As that Mag [...]cian, whose infernal art,

[Page]Raising a Vision, is with Terrour seiz'd

At th'Apparition his own Charms have rais'd.

Have you consider'd, Madam, what you've done?

Q. M.

Poison'd my Husband, Sir, and if there need

Examples to instruct you in the deed,

I'll make my Actions plainer understood,

Coppying his Death on all the Royal Blood.

Crim.

The Falls of Kings are heavy, and on You—

Q. M.

Hold, Sir, sure you have drunk the Poison too,

That thus your Blood grows cold, and your faint Breast

Is with such dull and stupid Fears possest.

A States-mans Breast should scorn to feel remorse;

Murder and Treason are but things of course.

Crim.

I am a Convert, Madam, for kind Heaven,

Has to mankind immortal Spirits given,

And Courage is their Life: but when that sinks,

And to tame Fears and Coward-faintness shrinks,

We the great Work of that bright Frame destroy,

And shew the World, that even our Souls can dy.

By your Example I'll great Deeds pursue:

My Thoughts sha'nt start at what my Hand dares do.

Hamet.

Madam, as Agents in this great Design,

Zibdy, Morat and Abdrahamon joyn;

They the Kings Ears will with such Whispers fill,

As shall the Poyson Jealousie instill:

And by such subtilty his Breast infect,

Till he his Generals Loyalty suspect.

Crim.

Then to promote Suspition we'l proclaim

His Generals high Courage, Pow'r and Fame;

His Armies Love, and his great Spirit praise:

And to that pitch his heighten'd Virtues raise,

That their Perfection shall appear their Crime,

As Giants by their Height do Monsters seem.

Q. M.

Brave Crimalhaz! thy Breast and mine agree:

Now thou art wo [...]thy of a Crown and Mee.

[Page]And by such Arts I'll my Sons Breast invade

Till his fond Duty has his Life betray'd,

Till by my means we have his Army gain'd,

And have remov'd the Sword into your Hand:

And then we publ [...]kly and safely may

Our bloody Ensigns to the World display:

His Pow'r once gone, we'l act his Death in state,

And dash his Blood against his Palace Gate.

Great Deeds should in the open day be don,

As Sacrifices offer'd to the Sun.

Crim.

But till these mighty Actions ripen'd are

We must the borrow'd Looks of Friendship wear.

Q. M.

To flatt'ring light'ning our feign Smiles conform,

Which, back'd with Thunder, do but guild a Storm.

Exeunt.

Finis Actus primi.

Act the Second,

Scene the First.

[Page]

The Scene opened, is represented the Prospect of a large River, with a glorious Fleet of Ships, supposed to be the Navy of Muly Hamet, after the Sound of Trumpets and the Discharging of Guns.

Enter King, Young Queen, Hametalhaz and Attendants.

Hamet.

GReat Sir, Your Royal Fathers General

Prince Muly Hamet's Fleet does homewards sail,

And in a solemn and triumphant Pride

Their Course up the great River Tensift guide,

Whose guided Currents do new Glories take

From the Reflection his bright Streamers make:

The Waves a Masque of Martial Pageants yield,

A flying Army on a floating Field.

[Page] [Page]Order and Harmony in each appear,

Their lofty Bulks the foaming Billows bear.

In state they move, and on the Waves rebound,

As if they danc'd to their own Trumpets sound:

By Winds inspired, with lively Grace they roul

As if that Breath and motion lent a Soul.

And with that Soul, they seem taught Duty too,

Their Topsails low [...]'d, their Heads with Reverence bow▪

As if they would their Generals Worth enhance,

From him, by instinct, taught Allegiance.

Whilst the loud Cannons eccho to the shore,

Their flaming Breaths salute You Emperour.

From their deep Mouths he does your Glory sing:

With Thunder, and with Light'ning, greets his King.

Thus to express his Joys, in a loud Quire

And Consort of wing'd Messengers of fire

He has his Tribute sent, and Homage given,

As men in Incense send up Vows to Heaven.

Enter Muly Hamet and Abdelcador, Attended, introduced with [...] Flourish of Triumpets: Muly Hamet kneels to the King.

King.

Welcome true owner of that Fame you bring,

A Conquerour is a Guardian to a King.

Conquest and Monarchy consistent are;

'Tis Victory secures those Crowns we wear.

Muly Hamet.

In all that Sword you lent me has subdu'd,

I only, Sir, my Duty have pursu'd:

And acts of Duty merit no applause,

I owe my Lawrels to my Royal Cause.

My Actions all are on your Name enroll'd,

Since 'tis from you my Conqu'ring Pow'r I hold.

Hametal.

But in Morocco his high Pride may find

His Name less glorious, and his Stars less kind.

aside.

Muly Hamet.

Sir, your victorious Arms are doub'ly crown'd,

On Sea and Land the same success have found:

[Page]When first our greeting Navies did salute,

And in the rage of Flames our Cause dispute:

The Trains of Fire our fatal Guns did make

Did the fierce shape of blazing Comets take:

Our meeting Heat such fury did contract,

That Comets can but threaten what we act.

But when the Day had a spectatour been,

And the whole Progress of this Parley seen,

Led by your Genius, fate their Side forsook,

Some of the [...]r Ships I sunk, and some I took.

But when the [...]nterposing shades of Night

Assisted them in their disorder'd flight,

I made their Fleet to Conquest light my way,

With burning Ships made Beacons on the Sea.

King.

Kind Fate, in giving you so great Success,

Could scarce grant more, nor did You merit less.

Muly H.

Their Arms who have at Sea victorious been,

Do but the Out-works of an Empire win.

Then to compleat, what on the Sea before

I'd but begun, I landed on their Shore.

Abdelc.

Saphee and Salli, Mugadore, Oran,

The fam'd Arzille, Alcazer, Tituan,

Which the Usurper Gayland's Pow'r possest,

Those his Sword conquer'd, and his Fame the rest:

For the less Cities at his Names surprise,

Yielding made Crowds of bloodless Victories.

Your Arms against your Foes so much have done,

They feel the Heat though the fierce Fire be gone.

Muly H.

And now—

Hearing whose Force Morocco will invade,

I have b [...]ought home your Army to your aid.

Y. Q.

Valour and Fate such just success allow,

As [...]irmly place the Laurel on your Brow,

Whose very Looks so much your Foes surprise,

That You, like Beauty, conquer with your [...]ies.

[Page]But, Muly Hamet, now your Sword must be

Imploy'd in a more Cruel Victory;

Against Invaders You your Force must lead,

And meet my Father in an Army's Head:

But the rough hand of War more gentle make,

And spare His Blood for His Morena's sake.

Muly H.

We only do aspire to this great end,

To make your Father not our Prize, but Friend.

King.

Should Fortune Crown our Forces with Success,

Our Arms, though Conqu'ring, shall not make him less.

Enter Mariamne, attended.

Muly H.

Now I'm a Conquerour, Mariamne's Name alone

Has Tr [...]umph in't; I from this hour am made

Greater than if I wore those Crowns I won;

My Laurels too without your Beams would fade.

Mariam.

If Mariamnes Eies, Great Sir, can give

Your Laurels Life, she grants them leave to live.

Muly H.

Oh my full Joys!

Mariam.

I come, as one of the Admiring Crowd,

To welcom Him whose Actions speak so loud.

Muly H.

Madam, my Deeds can reach no higher Fame,

Than that your pretious Breath gives 'em a Name.

Mar.

No doubt but War and the harsh sound of Arms

Has from your Bo [...]ome chas'd Loves softer Charms:

Your Thoughts, accustom'd now to Martial Toils,

Court only Honour, drest in savage Spoils.

Muly H.

No, Madam, War has taught my Hands to aime

At Glory, to deserve a Lovers Name;

Since my Ambition has your Heart pursu'd,

I Conquer Crowns to make my Title good:

Whose narrow Thoughts to lesser Objects move;

His Soul wants Room to entertain your Love.

King.

Sir, to requi [...]e you with a Crown would be

Too mean Reward, Crowns you've bestow'd on me:

[Page]To speak my Thanks and Gratitude more large,

That vaster Debt I owe She shall discharge.

To pay what so much Merit does require,

I do command you love, where I admire.

to Mariamne.

Muly H.

Though Mariamne's Love appear'd before

The highest Happiness Fate had in store,

Yet when I view it, as an Offering

Made by the Hand of an obliging King,

It takes new Charms, looks brighter, lends new Heat.

No Objects are so Glorious or so Great,

But what may still a Greater Form put on,

As Optick Glasses magnifie the Sun.

Enter Crimalhaz, Shouts within.

Crim.

Your Subjects wait with eager joys to pay

Their Tribute to your Coronation Day.

King.

You are arrived a welcom Guest, to share

Those Ceremonies which their Joys prepare;

to Muly Hamet.

Your Presence to their solemn Rites will grant

That Ornament which this days Triumphs want:

What more could their impatient Wishes meet,

Then in one day a King and Conquerour greet?

Whilst they behold triumphant on one Throne

The Wearer and Defender of a Crown.

Lead on —

Muly H.

Lead on, and all that kneel to you,

Shall bow to me. This Conquest makes it due.

to Mariamne.

Exeunt all but Chrimalhaz.

Crim.

Dull Souldier, in thy Victories go on,

And live to see me wear the Crowns you won.

Let Cowards to their Fathers Thrones advance,

Be Great and Powerful by Inheritance.

No Laurels by descent my Brow adorn;

But what gains Crowns. I am to Courage born,

Ambition is the rise of Souls, like mine.

Those Wreaths my Birth does want, my Brain shall win.

[Page] [Page] They in advance to Greatness glorious prove,

Who out of the dull track of Birth-right move.

Birth-right, the Prop of an unpurchas'd Name,

A weak Alliance to an elder Fame.

No Glory by Descent is never worn;

Men are to Worth and Honour Rais'd, not Born.

Exit.

The Scene opened.

[Page]

A State is presented, the King, Queen and Mariamne [...] Muly Hamet, Abdelcador and Attendants, a Moorish Dance is presented by Moors in several Habits, who bring in an artificial Palm-tree, about which they dance to several antick Instruments [...]f Musick; in the intervals of the Dance, this Song is sung by a Moorish Priest and two Moorish Women; the Chorus of it being performed by all the Moors.

1. Stanza.

No Musick like that which Loyalty sings,

A Consort of Hearts at the Crowning of Kings:

There's no such delightful and ravishing Strain,

As the Ecchoes and Shouts of Long Live and Reign.

Long live and reign, long live and reign,

No Shouts so delightful, as, Long Live and Reign.

Long live and reign, &c.

Chorus.

2. Stanza.

No Homage like what from Loyalty springs,

Wee'l kneel to our Gods, but wee'l die for our Kings:

We'l pay that Devotion our Lives shall maintain:

No raising of Altars like Long Live and Reign.

Long live and reign, long live and Reign,

No raising of Altars, like Long Live and Reing.

Long live, &c.

[Page]After the Dance.

King.

They have paid theirs, now I my Debts will pay,

Sir, the next Sun sh [...]ll see your Nuptial day.

We, who would best great Services requite,

Do first our Friendships, then our Bloods unite:

And that your Hands more solemnly may joine,

Our Royal Mothers Gift shall second mine.

Y. Queen.

Her gentle Breath already, from just Fame,

Has kindly entertain'd your Glorious Name;

And in that Dress, You, as a Conqu'rour, may

To Her a more than welcome Visit pay.

King.

But since the Sorrows of the Mourning Queen,

For our late Father, make Her keep unseen,

Let this conduct you.

Gives him a Ring.

Muly H.

I am here more blest —

Than if I an Imperial Sea [...] possest.

Whilst in your Breast an Empire I obtain,

to Mariamne.

Not only Kings, but Gods unenvied reign.

Beauty would almost Infidels create,

Who, beyond Love, can wish a higher state?

Exeunt all but Abdelcador.

Abdelc.

Oh Charming Sex! —

How vast a Circle does thy Magick take?

The highest Spirits humblest Lovers make.

All that Heroick Greatness, which but now

Made haughty Foes and stubborn Nations bow,

Turns Vassal to a Smile, a Looks disguise:

Who conquer Thousands are one Womans Prize.

Fate sets Commanding Beauty in their way,

Beauty that has more God-like Pow'r than they:

Love o're the Hearts of yielding Heroes sports;

Who're Conquerours in Camps, are Slaves in Courts.

Exit.

Finis Actus secundi.

Act the Third,

[Page]

Scene the First.

Enter Muly Hamet, Scene the Palace.

Muly H.

'TIs now our Royal Mothers Breath must bind

That sacred tye of Love my King has sign'd,

And Providence has seal'd: make Her but kind.

Exit.

Scene a Bed-Chamber.

The Scene opens, and discovers Crimalhaz and Queen Mother sleeping on a Couch, a Table standing by, with Crimalhaz's Plume of Feathers, and his Drawn Sword upon it.

Re-enter Muly Hamet.

Muly H.

Laula in Crimalhaz his Arms asleep!

Ha! Does she thus for her dead Husband weep?

Oh fond and amorous Queen! has Lust such Charms,

Can make Her fly to an Adulter [...]rs Arms?

His Sword drawn for his Guard, —

Spies the Sword.

But he shall die. — No, He shall Wake, and Know

The Justice and the Hand that gives the Blow:

Should I descend to a Revenge so base,

His Death unarm'd my Glory would deface:

I will restore the Traytors Sword; for still

I have been taught to conquer those I kill.

Well, as a Witness of his Crime, his Sword

I'le take, which when we meet shall be restor'd.

Then secretly, but honourably too,

My Hand shall Act what to his Guilt is due.

For, lest I should my Queens Disgrace proclaime,

I'le right her Wrongs, but I'le conceal her Shame.

Exit.

The Scene changes to an Anti-Chamber.

[Page]

Muly Hamet re-enters with the same Sword, and in passing over the Stage is overtaken by the King.

King.

Muly Hamet! stay.

Muly H.

The King!

King.

What have you there?

Muly H.

Curst Chance! what shall I say?

aside.

King.

You thus appear

To've left the Field to gather Laurels here.

Who is the Man that has this Honour gain'd,

To be subdu'd by such a Gen'rous Hand?

Tell me.

Muly H.

Your Royal Pardon.

King.

No, proceed.

If you have kil [...]'d him, I forgive the Deed;

Who e're against You durst his Sword unsheath

Has justly from your Hand deserv'd his Death.

Muly H.

No, Sir, he lives, and lives unvanquish'd too.

King.

How, lives!

Muly H.

Oh do not your Demands pursue.

Urge me no more, nor force me to reveal

The only thing my Honour would conceal.

King.

How, Muly Hamet, durst you act that thing

You dare not utter to your Friend, and King.

Muly H.

My Kings Esteem I by my Silence lose,

And Speaking, I his Mothers Shame expose.

aside.

King.

Speak, if you can by Friendship be conjur'd.

Whose is it?

M [...]ly H.

Sir, 'tis Crimalhaz his Sword.

King.

How Crimalhaz! Are you not newly from

Th' apartment of my Royal Mother come?

In what defenceless Garb did you surprise

Him there, that you disarm'd him with such ease?

We o're our Womens Honours set such Eies,

That the Seraglio all access denies.

Who enters there without my Signet dies.

[Page]Muly H.

Her Shame too openly will be descry'd;

His Jealousie will find what I would hide.

aside.

King.

A sudden Fancy does my Breast inflame,

Something so strange, as I want words to name:

But She's my Mother, and I dare not guess—

Yet She's a Woman, and I can no less

Than start at Horrours which my Honour stain.

Confusion! and was Crimalhaz the Man?

Muly H.

Oh! Sir, what has my forc'd Obedience don?

Against a Mother I've incens'd a Son.

Your Princely Brow let no disorders change,

Let my Hand, Sir, Your disturb'd Peace revenge.

King.

No, Muly Hamet has a Sword too good

To be defil'd with an Adulterers Blood.

He t'an ignobler Fate shall be condemn'd;

I'le make him infamous, low, and contemn'd.

Disrob'd of all his Titles he shall bleed,

Like a Crown'd Victim to an Altar led,

Whose Wreaths and Garlands to the fire are cast,

And then the naked Sacrifice falls last.

That sinking States-man undergoes the worst

Of Deaths, whose Honours and whose Pow'r dies first.

exit King.

Muly H.

This was the only Chance could shake my Fame.

Oh weak Foundations of a Glorious Name!

I from the Field do a Crown'd Conqu'rour come,

To turn a base Informer here at home:

Yet nothing is so bright but has some Scars;

Men can throngh Glasses find out Spots in Stars.

Exit.

§

The Scene changes again to the Queen Mothers Bed-Chamber, where She and Crimalhaz appear hand in hand; She in a Morning Dress.

Crim.

Love acts the part of tributary Kings:

As they pay homage to their Conquerour;

Our kind Embraces are but Offerings

Of Tribute to triumphant Beauty's Pow'r.

[Page]Q. M.

Great Spirits Rivals are to Gods, and can,

Were all the World like me, their Heav'n unman:

We'd antidate our Bliss, not stay to move,

like Pageant-Saints, to airy Seats above:

We'd here below enjoy our Chiefest Good,

And reap Delights which they ne're understood.

Crim.

Ha! my Sword gon! Madam, we are betray'd.

Q. M.

Whose he that dares our Privacy invade?

Crim.

Some fatal Eye our interview has seen.

Q. M.

Who e're has seen us, knows I am a Queen.

That powerful Word his Silence does demand;

'Tis Blasphemy to name, nay understand

What Princes act. —

Crim.

Ho! Achmat, Achmat, —

Enter Achmat.

— What bold Man has been

Admitted to th' Apartment of the Queen?

Ach.

Prince Muly Hamet.

Q. Moth,

Ha! by whose Command?

Achm.

The Royal Signet from the Kings own hand

Gave him Admittance.

Q. Moth.

But, rude Slave, how durst

You violate what I commanded first?

Know, Traytor, I am Mother to a King:

His Pow'r subordinate from Me does spring.

My Orders therefore should unquestion'd stand,

Who gave him Breath, by which he does Command.

What my Commands have mist, this shall make good.

Princes are by their Deeds best understood.

Stabs the Eunuch, who falls and dies.

Crim.

Fall, and in Death all hopes of Mercy lose,

Who durst the Secrets of your Queen disclose:

Closets of Princes should be held Divine,

As a Saints presence Consecrates his Shrine:

And Princes Pleasures should Alliance hold

With their great Pow'r, be free and uncontrou'ld.

Q. Moth.

Is it not pity now —

[Page]That Grave Religion, and dull sober Law

Should the high flights of Sportive Lovers aw?

Whilst for the loss, of what's not worth a Name,

The slight exc [...]rsions of a wanton flame,

You must your Ruine meet, and I my Shame:

And yet we must not at our Dooms repine;

Because Law and Religion are Divine.

Yes, they're Divine; for they're so over-good,

I'm sure, they ne're were made by Flesh and Blood.

But since 'tis past, what does your Courage think?

You will not shake, at what I scorn to shrink.

Crim.

No, though I lose that Head which I before

Desig'nd should the Morocco-Crown have wore:

Yet what's the fear of Tortures, Death, Hell? Death,

Like a faint Lust, can only stop the Breath.

Tortures weak Engines that can run us down,

Or skrew us up till we are out of tune.

And Hell, a feeble, puny cramp of Souls:

Such infant Pains may serve to frighten Fools.

Fates, if I'm doom'd your Mark, [...]'le stand you fair;

Nor will I for your Favours lose a Pray'r.

Q. M.

A pray'r, Devotion and a States-man! No,

The Pow's above are titular below:

Stars are all Eye, and when great Deeds are done

All their faint Lights are but bare Lookers on.

Now thou art brave, none but a Heart above

The shock of Fortune, could deserve my Love:

But fear no danger, to our aid I'le call

My Arts and Fiends in Hell to stop our Fall.

To this I'le for our safety take recourse:

Through your right Hand this fatal Dagger force:

Then leave the Conduct of the Deed to me;

Fate dares no less than my Protector be.

Here Crimalhaz stabbs himself in his right Arm, which immediately appears bloody.

Crim.

'Tis don.

Throws away the Dagger.

[Page]Enter to them the King and Muly Hamet.

King.

May Heav'n forgive my Eies, that they have seen

This Object in a Mother and a Queen.

Q. M.

Oh Son! be deaf to what will wound your Ear,

Let this black Day be cancell'd from the Year.

But if your Justice must his Faults pursue,

Impose on Me what to his Guilt is due.

Muly H.

See how she treats her Shame: Madam, I wish

Your Virtues greater, or your Birth were less.

King.

Since you have sullied thus our Royal Blood,

The Grounds and Rise of this past Crime relate,

to Crimalhaz.

That, having your Offences understood,

We, what we cann't recall, may expiate.

Crim.

Sir, 'Twas my fate —

Q. M.

Hold, Sir, the Story does to me belong,

A Womans Frailty from a Womans Tongue.

Whilst pensively I in my Closet sate

My Eyes pay'd Tribute to my Husbands Fate,

And while those Thoughts my sinking Spirits seis'd

His Entrance my dejected Courage rais'd:

Pointing to Muly Hamet.

The sudden Object did new Thoughts produce;

My Griefs suspended, lent my Tears a Truce:

For then I otherwise employ'd my Eies,

Whilst in His Aspect I read Victories.

points to Muly Hamet.

But, Muly Hamet, then your cruel Breast —

Muly H.

Speak.

Q. M.

Let my Tears and Blushes speak the rest:

Muly H.

What does she mean? My lab'ring Thoughts dispatch.

Q. M.

Your Soul and Person Nature did ill match.

Such savage Passions and unruly Heat,

Lodg'd in Your Breast, hold a too glorious Seat.

Muly H.

This mystick Language does my Sence confound.

Q. Moth.

Oh, Sir!

King.

This riddling History expound.

[Page]Q. M.

Well, Sir, since you will force my Tongue, I must

Be to my Honour and my Virtue just.

Having a while upon each other gaz'd,

He at my Silence, I his Eyes amaz'd:

Then, Muly Hamet, then —

King.

What did he do?

Q. M.

Attempt to ravish me. His alter'd Brow

Wore such fierce Looks, as had more proper been

To lead an Army with, than Court a Queen.

And, as a Ravisher, I abhorr'd him more

In that black form, than I admir'd before.

But whilst my Virtue a Resistance made

My Shrieks and Cries brought Achmat to my aid:

Whilst th' Eunuch stood amaz'd, his Sword he snatc'd,

And at one Stroke his wond'ring Soul dispatch'd.

Muly H.

Oh Horrour!

Q. M.

Then, led by some happy Chance,

Kind Crimalhaz did to my Aid advance.

Crim.

But being by my sudden Entrance crost,

And all the Hopes of his stoln Pleasures lost,

My sight did to his sparkling Eies inspire

Such Rage, as if his Lust had lent ▪em Fire:

Though Justice in Her Cause did guide my Hand,

No Sword could his Victorious Arm withstand:

And when his Weapon through my Hand run,

Fearing th' Event of what his Rage had done,

He bore away my Sword, a poor Pretence,

To turn his Crime upon my Innocence.

Muly H.

False and perfidious Traytour!

to Crimalhaz.

Sir, to your Royal Favours add one more,

to the King.

And I'le quit all that I receiv'd before:

To this Adulterer your Leave afford

To vindicate his Treason by his Sword;

That Justice, by my Hand, may give him Death,

And stifle with his Blood his pe [...]jur'd Breath.

[Page]King.

Hold, Sir, if you this rash attempt pursue,

You'l make me think, that what he says is true.

This subtile mystery confounds me more

Than the past horrour of the Deed before.

Crim.

Alas, Sir, He, who has so savage been,

To dare abuse the Honour of a Queen,

Esteeming all less Crimes but sportive things,

Could not want Words t' abuse the Ears of Kings.

Muly H.

Bold Villain —

King.

Hold, your Passions Rage command;

You in an injur'd Monarchs presence stand.

Muly H.

Can the Eternal Pow'rs such Treachery

Permit? You the great Rulers of the Sky,

Sitting thus patient at so tame a rate,

In Heav'ns soft ease are grown effeminate.

If such loud Crimes your armless Pow'r out-face,

Your pointless Vengeance will your Heav'n disgrace.

Q. M.

Had you my Breast by Honour sought to win,

Yet Love t' a pious Mother, and a Mourning Queen,

Had sounded harsh. But grant that Time and Love

Could from my Bosom my dead Lord remove:

I to your Passion might so just have been,

To 've met your Love, but not ith' shape of Sin.

Muly H.

Madam, You may say any thing: Your Sex

And Birth the vent of my just Passion checks.

Sir, do but hear —

To the King.

Crim.

You may vouchsafe to hear

What You may read more plainly, here, and there.

Points to the dead Eunuch and his wounded Arm.

King.

I in this Parley too much time bestow:

Hearing the Cause, I make the Vengeance slow.

Guards — Yet I'le hear him —

Muly H.

My single Word a vain Defence will make,

Where so much Witness, and a Mother speak.

But yet Heav'n sees my Innocence; and know

That I am proud this Shame to undergo.

[Page]Believe me, her intended Ravisher

Appearing so, I take the Guilt from Her.

Their false Impeachments do this comfort bring,

That I may wear that Cloud would shade a King.

King.

His kind soft Words do but confirm th' Offence;

Men are nere losers for their Breaths expence:

But still speak kindest when their Falls are near,

Not out of Generosity, but Fear.

It is enough She witness'd his Offence;

Her Virtue scorns to accuse Innocence.

And since her Blood does run within my Veins,

By' instinct I know she all that's base disdains.

But if I want more Proofs to make it out,

His Murder and his Wound removes the doubt.

Muly Hamet, for this Guilt our Prophets Breath

Has in his sacred Laws pronounc'd your Death.

Q. M.

His Death!

Surprized.

But hold! The King will then my Cheat descry,

I wish His Death who tamely see him dye.

aside.

O cruel Sir, that killing Breath recall:

to the King.

Our holy Prophet dares not see him fall,

I'm sure, had he My Eyes. Heav'n cannot see

Such Courage bear so harsh a Destinie.

The Pow'rs above would shrink at what he felt:

His Death to Tears their Chrystal Orb would melt.

But —

If You must act what Mercy can't prevent,

Inflict — inflict some milder Punishment.

King.

His Deeds and Service in Morocco's Cause

May mitigate the rigour of our Laws.

His Army then I to your charge commend,

Her Honours Guardian, and our Loyal Friend.

to Crimalhaz.

Here bind the Traytor, and convey him strait

to the Guards.

To Prison, there to linger out his Fate:

Till his hard Lodging and his slender Food

Allay the Fury of his Lustful Blood.

Guards bind Muly Ham.

[Page]Q. M.

Think what Impression on my Breast 'twill make,

To [...]ee his Hands wear Fetters for my sake.

In whisper between Muly Hamet and Queen Mother.

Muly H.

Madam, be serious, tell me how so foul

A Treason gain'd admission to your Soul.

Q M.

My Soul! Dull Man, what has my Soul to do

In such mean Acts as my betraying You?

Murder and Treason —

Without the help of Souls, when I think good,

Such toys I act; as I'm but Flesh and Blood.

Mu. H.

Let not too high your Scorn of Justice swell:

Know, Madam on such Crimes there waits a Hell.

Q. M.

Hell! No, of that I scorn to be afraid:

I'le [...]end such throngs to the infernal shade,

Betray, and kill, and damn to that degree,

I le crowd up Hell, till there's no Room for Me.

King.

Here, to the Tower that guarded Pris'ner send:

His sa [...]ther Doom from my Commands attend.

Muly H.

I for my former state

My Homage to your Royal Father paid,

And Monarchs may destroy what Monarchs made:

For Subjects Glories are but borrow'd things,

Rais'd by the favourable Smiles of Kings:

And at their Authors Pleasures should retire,

And when their Breath renounces 'em expire.

Should I the Sentence of my Sovereign blame,

I should be gu [...]tier than They say I am.

But though your Frowns declare my Fet [...]ers just,

Look to what dang'rous Hand your Pow'r you trust.

Monarchs do nothing ill, unless when they

By their own Acts of Grace their Lives betray.

When Favours they too gen'rously afford,

And in a Treacherous Hand misplace their Sword,

Their Bounties in their Ruine are employ'd:

Kings only by their Vertues are destroy'd.

King.

Your Counsels weakly do my Ears attract;

You ill [...]each Virtue which you cannot act.

[Page]Live then, till time this [...]ense of Horrour brings,

What 'tis to ravish Queens, and injure Kings.

Exeunt King and Muly Hamet severally; Muly Hamet led out by the Guards.

Q. M.

You see the Fates do their Allegiance know.

And to my pow'rful Breath their Conduct ow.

'Tis pity Monar [...]hs are so scarce —

Such gen'rous, [...]asie, kind, good natured things,

That one feign'd Tear can rule the Faith of Kings.

Crim.

So bravely, Madam, your Design succeeds,

As if the Fates were Vassals to your Deeds.

That Politician who to Empire climbs,

With Virtues Dress should beautifie his Crimes.

Our guilded Treason thus like Coral seems;

Which appears Black within its native Streams:

But when Disclos'd it sees the open Air;

It changes Colour, and looks Fresh and Fair.

Exeunt.

Scene the second, the Scene a Prison.

The Scene opens, Muly Hamet appears bound.

Muly H.

Disrob'd of all at once! what turns more strange

Can Ages, if an Hour can make such Change?

Enter to him Mariamne, with one Attendant, from whom she takes a Sword, and exit Attendant.

Kind Mariamne!

Mar.

Yes, False Man, the same,

Till your bold Lust had forfeited that Name.

The Daughters easie Breast would ill confer

A Kindness on her Mothers Ravisher.

Muly H.

Can Mariamne think me guilty too?

More than my Chains have done your Frowns will do:

Mariamne's Eyes out-vie her Brothers Pow'r.

I ne're was miserable till this hour.

[Page]Mar.

Ungrateful! is your Soul so much defaced?

Have I so ill a too fond Heart misplaced?

My Rival Mother does my Right remove:

And in affront to my rejected Love

Your Scorn to Me you in her Shame make good,

Forcing her Virtue to prophane my Blood.

But, perjur'd Man, though you deserve so [...]ll,

Yet you shall find me Mariamne still.

To my past Favours I will add one more.

Thus I your Freedom, and your Sword restore▪

Unbinds him, and gives him the Sword.

Live, and in safety go, and fly that Fate

Which does th' unhappy Muly Hamet wait.

Muly H.

My Sword and Liberty restor'd by You,

To one ungrateful, false and perjur'd too!

Ah, Madam, if your Mercy can confer

Such Bounty on a condemn'd Ravisher;

What nobler Favours would your Smiles dispence,

If Mariamne knew my Innocence?

Mar.

Sir, you mistake my Favours: I have lent

Your Freedom only as your Banishment:

That being releas'd, you might Morocco fly,

Remov'd at once both from my Heart and Eye.

For should he stay —

Something like Pity in his cause would plead,

Till my faint Anger were in Triumph led.

aside.

Some Rebel Thought my ill-fenc'd Heart would win,

And treacherously once more let him in.

Go, Ravisher, take your offer'd Liberty:

And to some barb'rous, unknown Desart fly,

Where Men have nought but Shape that's humane; there,

Where Virtue looks more ill than Monsters here.

Converse with wild and lustful Savages:

Live, and inhabit any Seat — but This.

Points to her Breast.

Muly H.

Divine, but cruel Princess, to whom Heav'n

Has all its Titles but its Knowledg giv'n.

[Page]Else, like their Pow'rs, you could not want a Sence

Of Muly Hamets injur'd Innocence.

Can Murders, Rapes, or any barb'rous Deed,

Madam, from your Adorers Thoughts proceed?

No, Hells Commission does not reach so far,

To touch his Heart, which does your Image wear.

Mar.

Ah, were this true!

Muly H.

Witness the sacred Pow'rs,

If ought of truth be in a Heart that's yours,

Then Crimalhaz is false. Your Mother too,

(If ought that's ill can be allied to you)

Has spoke what Muly Hamet durst not think.

Achmat his Death, and Crimalhaz his Wound,

Not from My Sword, but from Their Dagger sound.

The Eunuchs Blood by their own Hand was spilt;

To work my Ruine, and conceal their Guilt.

Mar.

A genle Calm my Anger does asswage,

Creeps cooly o're my Heart, and chils my Rage.

Some strange Divine Intelligence is stole

Into my Breast, and whispers to my Soul,

aside.

Unkind, Suspicious, Cruel, and Unjust;

That Virtue Love had taught him you may trust.

Muly H.

Were I that Savage Ravisher I seem,

I still might father this imputed Crime:

This Prison, and Our private Interview,

Giving me pow'r t'Attempt that force on You.

How dare you then my Out-law'd Virtue trust,

And lend that freedom which would arm that Lust?

But did you know how clear my Soul does shine,

Unclouded, and still pure enough, t'enshrine

Such a Divinity as yours, you'd free

Your self from Doubts, as you from Chains did Mee.

Your Mothers Eyes cannot your Right remove:

To prove the power of M [...]riamnes Love,

Madam, my proffer'd freedom I refuse:

Flying Morocco, I your sight should lose;

[Page]And rather than be banish't from those Eyes,

I can all thoughts of Liberty despise:

For I in Fetters may your Grace implore,

And make your Pity grant one Visit more.

If not your Love, yet your Compassion may

Once more, at least, guide your kind steps this way.

Gaining your sight, I can my Chains out-brave,

The Brother's prisoner, but the Sister's slave.

Mar.

Enough, brave Prince; My Jealousie forgive:

Virtue ne're dies, where so much Love does live.

Heav'n cannot but, like Me, think it unjust,

That so much Virtue should in fetters rust.

But since of injur'd Innocence Heav'n dares

Be a spectator, I'le correct the Star's.

I will redress those Wrongs

Which their [...]ame patience lets you suffer. Take

Once more your Freedom for your Princess sake.

[...]ly these infected Walls, this barb'rous Town,

Where Virtue mourns under a Tyrants frown.

Before, my Rage your Freedom did Command:

But now accept it from a gentler Hand.

Kindness and Cruelty one doom decree:

None ever Punish, and Reward like Me.

Muly H.

And must I from my Princess presence fly?

Mar.

No, stay.

Muly H.

Kind Stars!

Mar.

Yes, in my Memory.

Absent you shall in my Remembrance reigne.

I'le to your Image dedicate this [...]hrine.

Points to her Breast.

Enter King, and young Queen. To the Door.

Muly H.

Madam, your Brother, when he hears my Swo [...]d,

And Liberty is by your Hand re [...]tor'd,

May grow incens'd to such a high degree,

To make You share those Frowns which threatned Me.

[Page]And are my thoughts so low, to make you run

Those Dangers which I by my flight shall shun?

Mar.

Request does with a Mistress pow'r ill suite.

Sir, I Command that freedom you dispute.

And, if his stubborn Faith to a just thought

Of your wrong'd Innocence cannot be wrought:

If his rash passion natures bonds should quit,

And make him both my Sex, and Birth forget;

Remember that you wear a Sword, and you

As you're my Servant, be my Champion too.

Enter to them King, Young Queen, Q. Mother, Crimalhaz, Hametalhaz and Attendants.

King.

His Sword, and freedom by her hand retrived!

Surely my Eyes and Ears are both deceiv'd.

How! Rebel, dare you with things Sacred sport,

Ravish the Mother, and the Daughter Court?

to Muly H.

Have You your Birth no better understood,

to Mariamne.

Than to be Traytor to your own high Blood?

Since Prisons no restraint o're Lust can have,

Why did I not confine him to a Grave?

Muly H.

'Tis not long since your Bounty did designe

Not only This, but th'Hand that gave it, mine.

King.

When I design'd That, I design'd She shou'd

Be in a Palace, not a Prison, woo'd;

Not circled in a Chain, but in a Crown:

Sir, You mistake a Dungeon for a Throne.

Q. M.

Remember, if your Memory can prove

So just, t'unravel your own Scenes of Love.

Unless blest [...]overs, whose desires are Crown'd;

Mounting so high, forget their rising ground.

These Prison-walls have Eccho'd to your Sighs,

Conscious as well of your Amours, as His.

No fetters can Lov's lawless pow'r suppress:

You too have been a Lover in his dress.

[Page]Some Pity then should to their Loves be shown,

For their so near resemblance of your own.

She can forgive his Faults, why cannot You?

If Love can Pardon, why not Honour too?

Mar.

Knew you his Innocence, you would approve

Both his just Liberty, and my just Love.

But, Sir, you know, I'm Sister to a King:

And in that Name I dare do any thing;

Make where I please my Heart an Offering.

Tortures, nor Chains, shall not my Love rebate:

I'le share his Breast, though I should share his Fate.

King.

Sister, your noble Pride has made me kind:

I'le give him that Reward which You design'd.

Your Courteous hand his Freedom did restore;

And I'le repeat what you pronounc't before:

Be gone, and never see Morocco more.

At the next mornings light, if the Suns Eye

Find you within the City-gates, you Dye.

And the Tenth day you lose your Head, if found

Within the Circuit of my Empires bound.

Muly H.

Now I am lost, and all my Hopes dispers't.

This Monsters villany has done its worst.

to Crimalhaz.

Inhumane, to your Conscious Soul recall—

Crim.

The Tortures which it feels to see You fall.

Muly H.

No, Traytor.

Crim.

Traytor, Yes Sir, I should be

Traytor to Reason and Humanity,

Should I not grieve for You.

Muly H.

Oh cunning Ignorance!

These Traytors walk like mad-men in a Trance:

Seem not to understand the Crimes they Act.

But from what springs, do You your Tears extract!

aside, to Q.M.

Q. M.

From springs so deep shall sink Thee down to Hell.

I shed my Tears, as Rain in Egypt falls,

Sent for no common cause, but to foretell

aside to him.

Destructions, Ruins, Plagues, and Funerals.

[Page]I ne're draw Tears, but when those Tears draw Blood.

King.

My Justice in suspence too long has stood.

Q. M.

How, Justice? no, your Cruelty. How can

So harsh a Doom against so Brave a man

Be Justice? View that Brow, that Charming Eye:

See there the Grace and Meen of Majesty.

Can you to Exile then that Man enjoyne,

Whose Soul must, like his Aspect, be Divine▪

Oh Son!

Weeps.

King.

His Sentence is already past;

And now her Kindness does his Ruine hast.

Be gone, and fly to some infected Aire,

Where Poysons brood, where men derive their Crimes,

Their Lusts, their Rapes, and Murthers, from their Climes:

And all the Venome which their Soils do want,

May the Contagion of your Presence grant.

Muly H.

I must obey you, and embrace my Doom

With the same patience Saints do Martyrdom.

Only their Suffering's a Reward receive;

They Die to meet that Happiness I leave:

They Die, that in their deaths they Heaven may find:

But in my Princess, I leave Mine behind.

And my hard Exile does this Horrour bring,

I lose the power to serve so good a King:

So Good, that 'twould as great a Bliss confer

To Die for You, as 'tis to Live for Her.

Since in your Kingdoms limits I'm deni'de

A seat, may your great Empire spread so wide,

Till its vast largeness does Reverse my doom;

And for my Banishment the World wants room.

King.

I'le hear no more. But for this Audience know

How much you to my gracious Favour owe.

His Mercy's great, whose Patience is so strong,

To give a Traytor leave to Talk thus long.

Exeunt King, and young Queen.

[Page]Mar.

Farewel for ever. When you're gone, and all

Mariamne ever Lov'd, or ever shall.—

She sees no more; Yet by despair made just,

Let not our Hearts take leave, though our Eyes must.

Though you through wild and savage Desarts go,

No place so barren, but where Love may grow.

Muly H.

When to your ears some gentle breath shall bring

The last Remains of a lost wretched thing,

That lived as long as he could gaze on You;

And shined, till that inspiring Light withdrew.

If Fame vouchsafe words on a wretch so poor;

When you shall hear I was, but am no more;

In my Lost seat let my Remembrance stay:

Give my Name life, though Grief take Mine away.

Exeunt Muly Hamet and Mariamne severally.

Crim.

Fate and our Wishes meet.

Q. M.

His Exile is not all:

Our Treasons are not safe but in his Fall.

He Lives, though he be Banish't; and the Great

Are never fully Dark'ned, till they Set:

This Cloud may pass, and He shine out once more;

But from your hand this favour I implore:

Pursue him out of Town, and in disguise

to Hametal.

With some dissembling Tale his Ears surprise;

Till your Confederate-Party has gain'd time

To place an Ambuscade, and Murder him.

Hamet.

Conclude it done.

Q. M.

And your next step t'a Throne

to Crimalhaz.

Must be, dear Sir, the Murther of my Son.

Crim.

His Palace—

And the kind City's love's so strong a Guard,

Th'Attempt within these Walls appears too hard.

Q M.

But what that Bars, this Easier way secures:

His Army, and his Treasures Charge, are yours.

To Morrow on the Plain before the Wall,

His Forces you t'a general-muster Call.

[Page]Then their Commander You shall in their Head

His Army to the Mountain Atlas lead:

And to secure your Flight, to night by Stealth

Ransack his Treasury, seize all his Wealth.

At first Alarm, this will his Courage damp:

But by such Arts, I his Resolves will sway;

I'le work him from the Town up to the Camp,

And safe into your Hands his Life betray.

But when Your Throne I on His Grave have built,

Remember Love was Authour of my Guilt.

Crim.

This work, which we so roughly do begin,

Zeal and Religion may perhaps call Sin.

No; the more Barb'rous garb our Deeds assume,

We nearer to our First perfection come.

Since Nature first made Man wild, savage, strong,

And his Blood hot, then when the world was Young:

If Infant-times such Rising-valours bore,

Why should not Riper Ages now do more?

But whilst our Souls wax Tame, and Spirits Cold,

We Only show th'unactive World grows Old.

Exeunt Crimalhaz, and Young Queen.

Hamet.

Muly Hamet Bleeds the next.

To him, who Climbs by Blood, no track seems Hard:

The Sence of Crimes is lost in the Reward:

Aspirers neither Guilt nor Danger Dread:

No path so rough Ambition dares not Tread.

E [...]it.

Finis Actus Tertii.

Act the Fourth,

Scene the First.

Enter King Attended.

King.

HOw! Crimalhaz up to the Mountains fled,

And with him the Morocco Forces led.

Oh Rebel!

[Page]1. Lord.

Sir, he only does pursue

That Treason which you lent him Pow'r to do:

He was your Treasurer, and has made bold

To be too strict a Guardian of your Gold.

All your Crown-Jewels, and your heaps of Wealth,

He in the Night convey'd away by Stealth.

And now—

Encamped on Atlas skirts, he by your Gold

Has Rais'd new Forces, and Confirm'd the Old.

With that he Bribes your Army to his Cause;

And after him new Trains of Rebells draws.

King.

Oh Prophane Gold, which from infectious Earth,

From Sulph'rous and Contagious Mines takes Birth.

It grew from Poysons, and has left behind

Its native Venome to infect Mankind.

Rapes, Murders, Treasons, what has Gold not Don?

If it has ever any Glory won,

Given to Reward a Virtue, or decreed

T'a Pious use, or Charitable deed;

That Sacred Powr's but borrowed, which it bears,

Let from their Royal Images it wears.

Enter Queen Mother.

2. Lord.

I am afraid his Thoughts fly High; his Dreams

Have little less than Empires for their Theams:

King.

On what Ill subjects I my Favours cast?

Him high in Pow'r, and Honours I have plac'd.

Kings Bounties act like the Suns Courteous smiles,

Whose rayes produce kind Flowers on fruitful Soyles:

But cast on barren Sands, and baser Earth,

Only breed Poysons, and give Monsters Birth.

2. Lord.

Let not too far your Fears your Peace molest:

Perhaps you've mis-interpreted his Breast.

You know that Crimalház his 'High Command

Was formerly in Muly Hamets hand.

[Page]He who forced Favours both from Fate, and Fame;

Made War a Sport, and Conquest but a Game.

And therefore he, perhaps, to Act some Deed

Which Muly Hamets glory may exceed.

Has for his Mistress from the common Rou [...]

Of the worlds beauties singled Honour out.

And that which makes him his Designes disguise,

He'll make his flight of Honour a surprize.

King.

No, he's a Traytor, and he'll use my Pow'r

Not to Promote, but to Usurp my Crown.

Pow'r swoln too High destroys, not guards; as show'rs,

Luxurious grown, what they should Cherish, drown.

Our Swords in Loyal hands may act great Things:

Be both the Glory and Defence of Kings:

But when misplaced, those Arms our Ruins be:

As Mountains bulwarks are at Land, but Rocks at Sea.

Q. M.

Can you Rebellion fear, or any thing

Who are my Son, and great Moroccoes King?

If he be False, you can't resist your Fate:

If True, his aim will be to guard your State.

But grant he would some Traytrous act performe,

Accept my Counsel to divert the Storm.

Up to the Mountains strait, and visit Him.

Your Awful sight may check an ungrown Crime;

Out-face his Treason e're his Rise begin:

Men Bashful are i'th' non-age of a Sin.

King.

Madam, your dauntless spirit would breath fire

To breasts as cold as Age. I must admire

Your Courage: but your Innocence mistakes.

Your Goodness in my Cause weak I [...]dgment makes,

Your Thoughts can't Reach the flights which Treason takes.

Q. M.

You've hit my Thoughts: Alas, I am too good,

Treason's a Thing I never understood.

But yet I understand what's High and Brave.

He dares not, Sir, abuse that pow'r You gave.

For he who sav'd my Honour, will guard yours:

That very Argument your Life secures.

[Page]Then trust to Fortune, and my Counsel. Go

And visit him; but wear no Jealo [...]s brow:

It makes men False to be Suspected so.

I'le be your Leader.

King.

When She leads the Way,

Though it were Death to go, 'twere worse to Stay.

Madam, I'le go. For Taffaletta's Armes

In few dayes March will reach Moroccoes Walls.

If Crimalhaz prove False, at his Alarms

Muly Labas by a forreign Conq'rour falls.

Staying, I tamely Perish; if I go,

I face my Ruine, and I Charge my Foe.

It will more like an act of Courage look,

To be by Ruine met, than over-took.

But at my sight perhaps he in my brow

May something read which his High thoughts may bow.

Kings that want Armes, do not want Majesty.

Heav'n is still Heav'n, though't lays its Thunder by.

Exit with Attendants.

Q. M.

Go easy Fool, and Dye, and when you Bleed,

Remember I was Author of the Deed.

T'enlarge Fates black Records, search but My Soul:

There ye Infernal Furies read a scrowl

Of Deeds which you want Courage to Invent;

Of which Hells Legends want a President.

Scene the Second.

The Scene open'd, is presented a Prospect of a Clouded Sky, with a Rain bow. After a shower of Hail, enter from within the Scenes Muly Hamet and Abdelcador.

Abd.

Such Storms as These, this Climate never knew:

A Show'r of Hail's an Object strange and new

I fear it does Portend some Dire Event,

That waits upon your Fatal Banishment.

Muly H.

My Country, Princess, and my King forsook:

Stormes to my Miseries like attendants look.

[Page]These Tempests Sir, are to my Sufferings due:

When my King Frowns, 'tis just that Heav'n frown too.

But why does my dear Confident intend

In my Misfortunes thus to run my Race?

Must I in my sad Ruine plunge my Friend?

As Drowning men sink those whom they Embrace.

Abd.

Do not my friendships right forbid. With You

I've been a Conq'rour, why not Exile too?

Shall my Esteem grow faint, or my Zeal less,

Because I view you in a Meaner dress,

Your outward Pomp laid by, and Honours raz'd?

The Saint's not less, although the Shrine's defac'd.

Enter Mariamne with a small Attendance.

Muly H.

Mariamne!

Mar.

Yes. And she who led by Love,

Leaves Palaces, and does to Desarts Rove.

Wing'd by that zeal united Souls do beare

Those Stars that smile on Lovers, brought me here.

I for Your sake my wandring steps engage:

Devotion is the rise of Pilgrimage.

Muly H.

Can Love in Hearts such deep impressions make,

That you can for your Wretched Vassals sake

Leave Courts, Pomp, Greatness, and all splended things?

Mar.

Sir, 'tis the same with Lovers, as with Kings,

Thus, if a King should with his Train resort

To a poor Cell, he makes that Cell a Court.

Oh Sir, the most Illustrious Queen on Earth,

Would quit the Pageantry of Crowns and Birth:

And in exchange Mariamnes Exile choose,

Could she but Love as Mariamne does.

Muly H.

Oh my kind Princess; King and Court sarewel:

Where painted Honours, & feigned Glories dwell:

Lovers when happy made, have Souls that scorn

Those guilded wreaths which swelling brows Adorn.

[Page]Mar.

Mariamne has this glory on her side,

That kindness you call Love, I call my Pride.

For of my Constancy—

Any less tryal I disdain to make

Then shew I scorn an Empire for your sake:

And whosoe're does my rash Flight condemn,

The meaness of their Censures I contemn.

None of my Actions can fit Judges be,

But they who've soul enough to Love like Me.

Lovers alone Loves causes can decide,

As Nobles only by their Peers are Try'd.

Enter to them Hametalhaz disguis'd in the Habit of a Priest, with Villains in the same Dress.

Ham.

Sir, our great Prophet has pronounc't your Fate,

Your Love is doom'd to be Unfortunate.

Muly H.

No Sir, 'tis False, thou doest belye his Name:

Our Prophet is a Lover as I am.

Ham.

Your Mistress too must your Misfortune find.

Muly H.

To her our Prophet cannot be unkind▪

She is a Princess.

Ham.

No Titles his eternal will confute.

Muly H.

She is a Woman, and he scorns to do't.

Did not thy Garb protect thee— Mahomet

To wrong her Sex his greatness would forget.

Ham.

No Sex is from ill destiny debar'd.

Muly H.

She is a Beauty, and that Name's her guard.

Good sates as due should be to Beauty given:

Beauty which decks our Earth, and props his Heav'n.

When Heav'n to Beauty is propitious,

It payes those Favours it but lends to Us.

Ham.

Oh, do not Sir, their Oracles decry,

With patience hear the Language of the Sky.

Heav'n when on Earth some Change it does fore-shew,

Does write Above what we must read below.

[Page]This Morning, as our Eyes we upward cast,

The desart Regions of the Air lay Wast.

But strait, as if it had some Penance bore,

A mourning Garb of thick black Coulds it wore.

But on the Sudden—

Some aery Demon chang'd its form, and now

That which look't black Above look'd white below.

The Clouds dishevel'd from their crusted Locks,

Something like Gems coin'd out of Chrystal Rocks.

The Ground was with this strange bright Issue spread,

As if Heav'n in affront to Nature had

Design'd some new▪found Tillage of its own;

And on the Earth these unknown Seeds had sown.

Of these I reacht a Grain, which to my sence

Appear'd as cool as Virgin-innocence:

And like that too (which chiefly I admir'd)

Its ravisht▪ Whiteness with a Touch expir'd.

At the approach of Heat, this candid Rain

Dissolv'd to its first Element again.

Muly H.

Though show'rs of Hail Morocco never see,

Dull Priest, what does all this Portend to me?

Ham.

It does Portend—

Muly.

What?

Ham.

That the Fates—designe—

Muly.

To tire me with Impertinence like thine.

Here a Company of Villains in Ambush from behind the Scenes discharge their Guns at MulyHamet, at which Muly Hamet starting and turning, Hamettalhaz from under his Pries [...]s habit draws a Sword, and passes at Muly H. which pass is intercepted by Abdelcader. They engage in a very fierce Fight, which the Villains, who also draw and assist Hametalhaz, and go off several ways Fighting; after the discharge of other Guns heard from within, and the Clashing of Swords, Enter again Muly Hamet, driving in some of the former Villains, which he Kills.

Muly H.

Dye Slaves, and may this desart raise a brood

Of unknown Monsters from your venom'd Blood.

[Page]My Princess gone, Fortune and Justice are

Sure not so Blind, but they of her took Care.

Enter Abdelcader.

Abd.

Your Princess Sir, is from your Armes divorc'd,

In her own Chariot to Morocco forc'd.

Muly H.

I'le fetch her back, though—

Abd.

Hold! With their fair prize, they've took so quick a flight,

That She is now beyond your reach and sight:

And the chief Leader of those Villains, was

The Old Queens Confident, Hametalhaz.

And all the Story which the Slave did frame,

Was only to gain time to take his aim.

They chose that Garb as what might best prevail,

To gain your Patience, and their Swords Conceal:

But missing of your Blood, your brave Escape

Chang'd his intended Murder to a Rape.

Muly H.

Hell and Damnation, these curst Traytors seize.

But why against such Barb'rous Savages

Do I in vain these useless Curses name;

They are such Brutes, that they want Souls to damne?

No 'gainst my self I should my Curses bend,

Coward so ill my Princess to defend.

Abd.

Oh Sir, do not profane your Conq'ring Sword,

Their Numbers were too great to be o're-powr'd.

Muly H.

How, Numbers! Abdelcader, you mistake;

No Sir, where Love and Beauty is at stake,

True Lovers of their Swords should make such Use,

As angry Heav'n of Threatning Earth-quakes does;

To shake whole Kingdoms, make proud Cities fall,

Not to o're-throw one single Criminal.

Had they been Thousands more, and each man there,

More Feirce than Lust, more Valiant than Despair,

I should have Fought till I my Princess freed,

Though I had waded through the Blood I shed.

Abd.

Sir, the last words she spake that reacht my Ear,

Were, that she did your passions Rashness fear:

[Page]And therefore from me bid you understand,

'Tis your kind Mariamnes last Command;

You ne're should see Morocco more, lest there

You should ēndanger what she prized too dear.

Muly. H.

And am I banisht by my Princess too?

Fates ye have done all th' ill your Powers could do;

Great Minds the pride of Prodigals have Learn'd,

At loss of Pow'r or Crowns are unconcern'd;

But when they're Misers, 'tis in Love alone,

Then their Hearts rend to see their Treasure gon.

Condemn'd never to see Morocco more!

Thus am I doom'd to quit all I Adore:

As prophane Sinners are from Altars driven,

Banish'd the Temple to be banisht Heaven.

Horrour and Tortures now my Jaylours be,

Who paints Damnation needs but Copy me;

For if Mankind the pains of Hell e're knew,

T'is when they lose a Mistress as I do.

Exeun [...].

Scene the Third, the Scene a Tent.

Enter Queen Mother and young Queen.

Queen. M.

No more, dear Madam, Crimalhaz distrust,

The Emperour has found him kind, and just.

His Entertainments, and his Oaths have prov'd,

He has not from the paths of Honour mov'd.

And to appear extravagantly great,

He makes a splendid Mask his this nights Treat.

Y. Queen.

I've been an Actor in such Comick Sport,

When in my Father Taffaletta's Court.

He took delight i'th' represented Spoyls

Of Cyrus, Cesar and Aeneas Toyles.

Queen. M.

Has Marriage and a Crown so chang'd your Will,

You could not act your youthful Pastimes still?

Could you your Greatness for one Night perswade

To lay by Majesty for Masquerade?

[Page]Y. Queen.

I never yet did any thing so ill

I ought to leave, or good that is not still:

I seem inconstant if you think me Proud;

Inconstancy the guilt of th' untaught Crowd.

Madam, I dare do any thing, to show

T' a Throne I change of Place, not Passions owe.

Q. Mother.

I can't suspect a goodness so Divine.

Well Madam, since you fancy the Designe,

For your Diversion, and your Kings, Il'e ask

This Boon, that you'd in person grace the Mask.

What Character and Part you shall present,

We will consult of farther in my Tent.

Exeunt.

Enter King and Hametalhas.

Scene continues.

King.

Murder'd this Night and sleeping did you say?

Hamet.

Yes, if for your escape Heaven finds no way.

King.

My Entertainments since my being here,

All shows of Loyalty and Friendship beare.

But does he in that Garb his guilt Disguise

To take my Life, by such a base Surprize?

Hamet.

Goodness may in Mens very Looks be Trackt;

But Traytors rarely look like what they Act:

Nor is this Treason Crimalhaz first Crime:

Your Fathers Bloud was sacrific'd by Him.

King.

By Crimalhaz my Royal Father Kill'd?

Hamet.

That Poyson which your Father drank, He fill'd.

King,

Poyson'd [...] How was this Murder hid till now,

And by what arts was it disclosed by You?

Enter Queen Mother.

Q. M.

That were too long to tell: th' unhappy Son

This Night too must the Fathers Fortune run.

King.

Is there no Policy, nor Art that may

Prevent his Treason?

[Page]Q. M.

Yes I've found the Way.

Accept my Councel, to preserve my Son,

I'le save your Life, your Empress, and your Throne.

King.

But how?

Q. M.

To you this Night he does a Mask present,

A smiling Prologue to his black intent.

And the intrigue of this Dramatique sport,

Is Orpheus his descent to Plutoes Court.

To fetch Furidice from th' infernal shade;

On this Foundation I've this Structure lay'd.

I have in your Name given out —

To shun the trouble of the formal State,

Which does upon your Royal Person waite;

That this nights Pleasure may be freer made

Your Self and Train will be in Masquerade.

Your Death being not designd before you sleep,

Till then you thus will undiscover'd keep,

And that your flight may be more safe and free,

Your Self, and your fair Queen shall Masquers be:

You shall act Orpheus, she Furidice.

When by the Masks design by Hells Command,

Furidice is given to Orpheus Hand,

You the last entry shall his Shape assume,

And in dumb show enter in Orpheus Roome.

Her then you shall lead out, and in that Shape

Pass through the Guards, and to the Town Escape.

Ham.

The Watches Orders are not strict, you may

Without disturbance at all houres find way.

Q. M.

And that he may not miss you till you're gon

Beyond his Reach, I, when the Mask is done,

Will keep the Revels up, till you're secur'd

From his sharp Malice, and his sharper Sword.

King.

Bravely contriv'd.

Q. M.

The Maskers, who already are design'd

To act those Parts, are Mine: and them I'le bind

To silence: That this safely may be wrought,

She shall to Mine, You to his Tent be brought.

[Page]They must be kept asunder for our work.

Aside

Hamet.

How many Devils in one Woman lurk!

Aside

King.

Madam in vain your Pity bids me Fly,

I am in duty bound to stay and Die;

Knowing how ill your Kindness hee'l requite,

If he should find you Author of my Flight.

Q. M.

Leave that to Providence: but grant he shou'd—

He would not sure attempt a Womans Blood.

At least when he considers how t' was don,

A Mothers Piety to save a Son.

Hamet.

I'le lead you where you may all eyes escape,

And privately put on this borrow'd shape.

Q. M.

But in disguise see not one word you say,

Least speaking you the Emp'rours Voice betray.

Enter Young Queen.

Your Empress here? I must instruct her too.

King.

I by our Loves conjure you to pursue,

What her kind Counsel orders to be don;

to the Y. Queen.

To save your Self, a Husband, and a Crown.

Exit K. & Hametal.

Y. Q.

What Task is that so strictly he enjoyns?

Q. M.

This Night the Traytour Crimalhaz designs

To Ravish You; and when that fact is don,

To kill your Husband and possess his Throne.

Y. Q

Oh my Amazement!

Q. M.

Being inform'd what Pa [...]t

You act, by his accursed Lust enraged,

He with the Masker subt'ly has engaged,

His shape in the last entry to assume,

And seize you in the suppos'd Orpheus room.

Then will he rudely snatch you from the place,

And basely force You to his foul Embrace.

And at that instant, Your dear Lord shall Bleed

By Murderers appointed for the Deed.

Whil'st with the noyse of Drums, and Trumpets sound,

Your Out-cryes, and his Dying Groans are drown'd.

[Page][Page]Y. Q.

Inhumane Monster! such a bloody Fact

No mortal sure can Think, much less dares Act.

Q. M.

'Tis but too true: But since —

No other force this Treason can withstand;

It is Your Husband, and your Kings command,

When the bold Ravisher seizes You, to take

This brave resolve for your fair Vertues sake;

Where both your Honour, and his life's at stake.

In your Defence t [...] act your own Champions part,

With your drawn Dagger stab him to the Heart.

Y. Q.

Could Fate —

This Office on no hand but mine confer?

A Queen, a Traytours Executioner.

Q. M.

You have no leisure to dispute the deed:

You must resolve with Courage, and with speed.

Y. Q.

I'le do't. And though it misbecomes my Hand;

Yet at my Vertues, and my Kings command,

Through all my Veins I feel a manly heat:

And this Heroick act looks brave and Great.

Methinks I hear loud Fame already sing,

She nobly saved her Honour, and her King.

Q. M.

Fame in this Deed our Sex will higher prize,

Proving our Arms Victorious, as our Eyes.

Y. Q.

Yes Ravisher, meet your intended Prey;

Meet her, but meet your Death too way.

To strike my Dagger home —

Love and Obedience shall that strength supply,

Which Nature does t' a female Arm deny.

Exit

Q. M.

Let those, whom pious Conscience awes, forbear,

And stop at crimes because they Vengeance fear.

My deeds above their reach, and pow'r aspire:

My Bosom holds more Rage, than all Hell Fire,

Exit

The Mask.

[Page]

[Page]

The Scene open'd; is presented a Hell, in which Pluto, Proserpine, and other Women-Spirits appeared seated, attended by Furies; the Stage being fill'd on each side with Crimalhaz, Hamet, Q. Mother, and all the Court in Masquerade: After soft Musick Enter Orpheus.

Orpheus Sings.

The grones of Ghosts and Sighs of Souls,

Infernal Ecchoes and the Howles,

Of Tortured Spirits cease:

A gentle Gust

Has all things Husht;

And Hell in spite of Vengeance is at Peace:

Whilst Ravisht by my warbling Strings,

The Vultures moult their Wings;

The Furys from their Heads will s [...]ake

Each useless Snake;

The Scorpions loose their Stings,

And Hell it self forget their Tyrant Kings.

Pluto Sings.

Whence Mortal does thy Courage grow,

To dare to take a Walk so Low?

Orpheus Sings.

To Tell thee God, thou art a Ravisher.

No Tears nor Prayer

Your unresisted Will Controules,

Who Commit force on Vertue, Rapes on Souls.

Pluto Sings.

Dares a weak Animal of Mortal Race,

Affront a God t' his Face;

And of a Crime Impeach a Deity?

Thy Breath has Damn'd Thee, thou shalt Die.

For your God and Honours sakes,

Unloose your twisted crests of snakes:

Into his Breast those swift Tormentors fling,

And his tortur'd Entrals Sting.

[Page]Proserpine Sings.

Oh Sir, his fatal Doom recal,

Dispel your furious Anger;

Let not such noble worth your Victim fall:

Be kind both to a Lover and a Stranger.

Attendant Sings.

Oh Pardon, Pardon what his height of Love discovers,

Rage is a venial Sin in Lovers.

Proserpine Sings.

Then gentle Stranger tell;

What Fortune has befell,

That brings a Lover down to Hell?

Orpheus Sings.

I have a Mistress in your Spheare,

Forc'd from my Armes

By deaths Alarm's:

My Martyr'd Saint brings me a Pilgrim here,

My fair Eurdice my fair Eurdice.

Proserpine Sings.

Unhappy Wanderer which is she? Oh which is she?

Orpheus Sings.

If a gentle Ghost you heare,

Complaining to the Winds, and sighing to the Aire;

Breathing an unregarded Prayer:

If She in faint and murmuring Whispers Cry,

Orpheus, Orpheus, Oh I Die,

Snatch'd from Heaven and thee,

Oh that is She.

Oh take me down to Her or send Her back to me.

Pluto Sings.

Shall Lovers Idle Prayers disturb my Eare?

Mortal we'v'e serious business here.

Your tiresome Story pleads in vaine;

Be gon.

[Page]Proserpine Sings.

But with thee thy fair Treasure take,

Releast by Love from that Eternal Chain,

Which destin'd Kings and Conquerours cannot break.

Pluto Sings.

No, fond Man, no, who comes within my Power,

From Death and Hell returns no more.

Proserpine Sings.

If Hell's str [...]ct Laws have never alt'red bin,

Let us be kind and now begin.

Revoke her angry Doom,

That when on Earth they come;

To th' wondring World he in soft Aires may tell,

Mercy as well as Justice Rules in Hell.

Pluto Sings.

Your love does with Success implore:

Conduct Her in, but in such State,

As fits the Court of Fate;

And to his Hand the fairest Guest restore,

That Ever Landed on the Stygian Shore.

Proserpine Exit, and Reenters with the young Queen Drest for Euridice

Orpheus.

For this sig [...]al Grace to the World I'le declare,

In Heaven Earth and Hell Loves Pow'r is the Same.

No Law there nor here, no God so Severe,

But Love can Repeale, and Beauty can Tame.

Chorus.

For This Signal Grace to the World I'le declare.

In Heaven &c.

[Page] Here a Dance is perform'd, by several infernal Spirits, who ascend from under the Stage; the Dance ended, the King Offers to snatch the Young Queen from the Company, who instantly draws her Dagger, and stabs him.

Y. Q.

Take that Ravisher.

stabs Him.

Q. M.

Hold.

King.

By my Morenas hand!

undisguising himself.

Y. Q.

Muly Labas!

Faints away, and falls into the hands of some Women; who run in to her Assistance.

Here all the Masquers undisguise, and run in to the Kings assistance.

Q. M.

My Son k [...]l'd by Her hand!

Crim.

Call my Physitians. Bid my Guards appear.

The Emperour Stab'd, the Queen his Murderer!

King.

Have I for this a too fair Saint admir'd?

And with a more than common Love inspir'd,

Rais'd my bold Thoughts so high t'engross your Charms;

And bounded my Ambition in your Arms?

And mu [...]t I die as depos'd Angels fell;

'Cause they aspir'd, and lov'd their Heav'n too well?

My death Morena a less pain will be,

Than 'tis to think I owe my death to Thee.

Have I less kindness from your Hands than Eyes,

For they have given me gentler wounds than these?

Your hand, 'tis true, has your Adorer Ki'ld.

'T has reacht his Heart, but not the Love it held.

Your Image cannot from my Soul retire;

My Lov's Immortal though my Life expire.

Dyes.

Here the Young Queen being revived before the last words of the King, turnes and kneels to him.

Y. Q.

Oh my dear Lord! Stay gentle soul! Oh stay!

Rude Death stand off: his life's too great a Prey!

But Oh he's gon. —

His ravish't Soul is mounting to the Skyes:

But I'le send mine t'o' [...]etake it as it flyes.

Offers to stab her self, but is detain'd by Crimalhaz; and the Dagger snatcht from her.

[Page]Y. Q.

Why does your cruelty my hand debar,

From being a Traytors Executioner?

Good, Gentle, Kind, give me the Dagger back;

For mine— for His— For Heav'n— and Justice sake.

Cannot my Tears and Prayers your heart o'recome?

If my Request appear too burdensome,

Grant but this one— that pointed Steel restore,

And I'le not live to ask you any more.

Q. M.

Oh cruel Queen, What has your fury done?

That made You lose a Husband, me a Son;

This Realm a King, the World a Virtue, grown

Too fit for Heav'n, but not to go so soon.

Y. Q.

Mother it does a much less wonder seem,

That I've kil'd him, than that you blame the Crime.

Was it not You that arm'd me to this guilt,

Told me I should a Ravishers blood have split?

No 'twas by your design my Husband fell;

You in this Masque have over-acted Hell.

Q. M.

Alas! she Raves. See how her rage begins,

But madness always ushers in great Sins.

This is no News to that which she has don;

She was distracted ere the Masque begun.

Alone I saw her in a posture set,

As if she thought of something High — and Great —

Strai't with a more than common rage inflam'd,

She mov'd—star'd—walk'd—storm'd—rag'd—curst—rav'd & damn'd.

With a distorted look she tore her hair —

Unsheath'd her Dagger — and gave Wounds to th'Air —

Her face discolour'd grew to a deep red,

As if her looks presag'd that blood she shed.

Then with an infant Rage, more soft, and mild,

She pla [...]d with madness, leap'd▪ sung, danc'd, and smil'd.

Why did not Heav'n this Mystery unfold? —

Her frantick Rage, his Death too plain foretold.

Had I foreknown you did this blow design:

To strike his He [...]t, you should have peirc'd through mine.

Y. Q.

Think you there is a God, or have a Soul,

That on my score dare such false crimes enroule?

[Page]I'st not enough that my dear Lord I flew,

But must be Actor and Designer too?

No, barb'rous stepmother, 'twas you alone

Guided that hand, that kil'd your King, and Son.

Q. M.

Observe how idly her wild fancies walk,

But she who acts so ill, as ill may talk.

Who'd think a thing so young, so soft, and Fair,

Could be so kind a Husbands Murderer?

But see when Heaven commands its gifts away,

The Wits and Sences lost, the Soul may stray.

Y. Q.

Oh perjur'd Woman, how can you invent

This feign'd disguise to appear innocent?

Q. M.

'Tis pity Fate such Beauty should misplace,

So stain'd a Heart, and yet so fair a Face.

Y. Q.

Impostor, speak (if Conscience have a Seat,

In Traytors breasts.) was it not You whose Cheat,

And Cunning did my fatal hand engage,

At once t' a Murder, and a Sacriledge?

To kill my King, and rob mankind of more

Vertue, than ere dwelt in one Brest before.

Q. M.

Divert thy Frenzy Child, some other way.

Oh, my dear Daughter, try if you can Pray.

Y. Q.

How she disowns that blood which she has spilt!

Treason with her is but a modest guilt.

Q. M.

Our presence will but raise her Passion higher,

T'allay her frantick Rage, let us retire.

But of your Queen see that strict care you keep,

Wait her to her repose, try if shee'd Sleep.

Sleeping, some Angel may be kind,

And in a Dream t'her thoughts her guilt present,

That when this fit is o're she may Repent.

Here the Attendants carry off the King, over whom the Young Queen Weeps.

Y. Q.

Heav'ns since from You the power of Monarchs springs,

Sure you were bound t'have had more care of Kings.

Exeunt all but Q. Mother, Crimalhaz and Hametalhaz.

[Page]Q. M.

Now in her Death we must some way invent,

That of his blood we may seem Innocent.

First let her Face with some deep poys'nous Paint,

Discolour'd to a horrid black be stain'd.

Then say 'twas as a mark of Vengeance given,

That she was blasted by the hand of Heaven.

And as a publick Spectacle expos'd,

Let her be in a burning pile inclos'd.

And whil'st the clouded Air reeks with the smoke,

Hire a magician by his art t' invoke

A Train of Devils, who in dreadful forms,

Waited by Earthquakes, Thunder, Winds, and Storms,

Shall rove i'th' Air, and with loud ecchoes houle;

As if they watcht to seize her flying Soul.

Thus will men think, 'twas only she that fram'd

This Treason, and that for the deed she's Damn'd.

Crim.

Bring back the Queen — E're I see Justice don,

I with Morena will converse alone.

Enter Guards leading in the Young Queen.

Great Empress stay, and hear my Story too,

How much I for an injur'd Queen dare do.

Discourses in whisper with the Queen.

Ham.

The Emp'rours acting of the Masquers part,

His Murder, and the management, your Art;

And her feigned madness to our wish succeed.

Q. M.

And more than this to have secur'd the Deed,

Had not Her hand struck home to back her Crime,

The Surgeons I had brib'd to poyson him.

'Tis not the blood of Sons nor Monarchs, shakes

Those resolutions which my Courage takes.

O're Fear and Vertue too, I have this odds:

My W [...]ll's my King, my Pleasures are my Gods.

Ex [...]nt Q. M. & Ham. Manent Crimalhaz & Y. Queen,

Crim.

S [...]nce I'm a Monarchs Heir, may I not own,

An equal Title in his Love as Throne?

If you'l accept so mean an Offering,

You shall not want a Lover nor a King.

[Page]My kindness shall supply —

Y. Q.

Hold Do you mean,

This o [...]er'd service to an injur'd Queen?

How Sir? is my dead King so far remov'd,

That I am past remembrance that I lov'd?

Admit new Courtships, and with the same Eye,

Behold a murder'd Soveraigns Ghost stand by.

I thought your profer'd kindness had been this,

To've sentenced me to mix my blood with his.

To've told me I should Die, and dying have

The Happiness of sleeping in His Grave.

Crim.

Death is guilts due. Yours is a gentler Doom;

You may enjoy my Throne, but not his Tomb.

I know your Innocence and Vertue. You

This fatal Deed from some false Copy drew.

And I begin to think your Mothers Heart,

Has Poyson in't, what-ere her looks impart.

But to revenge a Murder'd King▪ I'le [...]ound

This Treason, till the utmost Depth be found:

And to such pains the Authors I'le condemne,

That to the World I'le your lost Fame redeem.

Y. Q.

A Kings Revenge so brave an act will be,

That you'l at once Oblige both Heaven and Me.

And his blest Spirit in the Skyes must owe,

A Debt, which he has left unpaid below.

Crim.

That trifling score one smile from you will quit.

And sure you are so kind to pay his Debt.

Y. Q.

My Thanks are granted e're your Suite is heard.

Crim.

I must have more than Thanks for a reward.

Y. Q.

The Glory of the deed requites the pains.

Crim.

But Glory only in your Favour Reigns.

Y. Q.

That Breath I cannot, must not understand.

Crim.

Love needs but little art to be explain'd.

Y. Q.

Love! stop that barbrous Breath. In a new Love▪

I stab his Image, and profane his Dust.

Crim.

But not to love your Champion is unjust.

[Page]Y. Q.

Your Service I accept, your Love take back.

Crim.

None hate the giver who the present take.

Why can't your Heart —

Y. Q.

— Why can't your Arm revenge

A King, without my Heart paid in exchange?

Know though you basely trade with Loyalty,

My Love my Kings revenge does over-buy.

Go, Mercenary man, I will resigne

His Vengeance to the hand of Heaven, not thine.

Crim.

Let such harsh words be by tame Lovers borne,

My Passion is too rough to bear your scorn

Y. Q.

And must my Heart at such a price be sold?

Thy Seat Usurpt before thy Blood is cold?

This was thy Right, and though thy Death I gave,

Who lov'd the Martyr will the Reliques save.

My Heart by none but thee was ever won.

I'le guard the Trophy, though the Conqu'rour's gon.

Aside

But stay — This Grant is to revenge thy Blood,

And on that score no Offering's too good.

I should scorn Love, Life, Honour, Empires, — all

To strike their Heads whose Treason wrought thy fall.

Can you on no less terms my King revenge?

Crim.

No second Thoughts my Resolution change.

Since all I act is only for your sake,

Love must accept those offers Love does make.

Y. Q.

Well Sr, my Heart is won. Your Seige remove,

I conde [...]cend to any thing — but Love.

Retreating from him.

Resign that Heart that's His —

Heav'ns, shall I live to act so great a Sin!

To right a Monarch must I damn a Queen?

Be gon! I hate thee now worse than before.

Descend to thee? No, I that Thought abhorre.

And though his Blood does loud for Vengeance call;

I know [...]ee'd scorn his Queen so low should fall.

Though I have lost a King, I'm not so poor;

The Temple raz'd, the Ruines I'le adore.

[Page]Crim.

My Love's too fierce long Seiges to attend:

You've lost [...] Servant, and your King a Friend.

offers to go.

Y. Q.

Stay— No, be gon I scorn thee— Yet Sir stay,

Hopes of Revenge so much my passions sway;

That what would I not do for Justice sake.

Where the assault's so strong, here Conqu'rour take—

Gives her hand

Crim.

Oh my best hopes —

Kisses her Hand.

Y. Q.

My — friendship — give my Love!—

My Love my Soveraigns Right I rate above

The Ransome of a world; and if thy hand

Does not perform what his loud wrongs demand;

Thou art his Murderer.

Crim.

But when you see that murderer wear his Crown,

You shall too late repent your haughty Frown.

Offers to go.

Y. Q.

Hold, ere the pleasures of Revenge I'le want,

Invader, here what e're you ask I'le grant.

Crim.

Oh Charming Excellence!

Y. Q.

But Sir.

Loving too soon, I shall convince the Faith

Of Men, that I design'd my husbands Death.

Crim.

'Tis true, some marks of sorrow should be worn

To please the World; I▪le give you time to mourn.

Y. Q.

When you've appeas'd his Ghost, and th' angry Pow'rs

Above; and to his sacred Memory

My last debt's paid, all that I am is yours.

Crim.

My Vow's the same. First to Revenge I'le fly,

With Traytours Blood I'le entertain your Eye.

E're you're my Queen, and wear a second Crown,

I'le build a Scaffold first, and then a Throne.

Exit

Y. Q.

I've found the way. Oh my dear Lord, though now

Death does embrace what to my Arms is due;

I'le keep —

My Vow to Him, and Love to Thee Entire.

No second King shall to this Throne aspire.

Points to her Breast.

To Thee my last Debts payment shall be this,

I'le die — and dead all that I am is His.

[Page]In thy Revenge when I've Triumphant stood,

On Traytors necks amid'st a Scene of Blood;

Morena's hand shall wash the stain She wears;

As Condemn'd men turn Executioners.

To expiate thy blood I'le let out mine,

And triumph in my fall, who mourn for thine.

Then with a gentle gale of dying sighs,

I'le breath my flying Soul into the Skies.

Wing'd by my Love I will my passage steer,

Nor can I miss my way when You shine there.

Exit.

The Fifth Act.

§

Enter Crimalhaz attended as King.

Crim.

THough on the Blood of Kings my Throne I've built,

The World my Glory sees, but not my Guilt.

Mysterious Majesty best fits a Throne.

They Vertuous seem whose Vices are unknown.

Men have ador'd and have made Offerings

To unknown Gods, why not to unknown Kings.

Enter Ham.

Ham.

Your Guards are set, your forces on the Walls,

And in the Streets are rank'd in fighting forms;

Expecting when the martial Summon calls,

And Taffaletta this proud City storms.

For our last Scouts which newly are come in,

Tell us th' assault will in few hours begin.

Crim.

I thank him [...]or this War he has begun,

The number of my Foes enhance my Crown.

It does a worth on Kings as Beauties set,

To have our Rivals numerous and Great. —

But is th'imprison'd Princess, whom your Sword

Ravisht from Muly Hamets hand, secur'd

From the Worlds knowledg —

Ham.

Royal Sir I have —

The pride to be her Jaylor — and her Slave.

Aside.

[Page]Crim.

Muly Hamet and Mariamne are the last

Of the Imperial Race, that have not past

To th' other World, to make me room in this.

But though your hand did of his murder miss:

Howe're his exile has restrain'd his Pow'r:

And her I have conceal'd within the Tow'r.

But should she be discover'd, and I found

Her Jaylor, her restraint would horrid sound,

I am not safe then till I see her Dead,

You therefore shall present me with her Head.

Aside.

Ham.

Mariamnes Head presented by my Hand!

I'de first strike his that gives me that Command.

For since that Beauteous Prisoner was my charge,

Her charming Image did my Soul enlarge.

At the approach of so Divine a Guest,

I've shook my late familiars from my Breast;

The thoughts of Mischeifs, Villany and Blood;

By her fair Eyes inspir'd I dare be good.

Exit.

Enter Queen Mother.

Q. M.

Though your De [...]igns have met so great Success,

Doe not forget I was your Patroness;

And she to whom you made this solemn Vow,

to Crim.

That I should share that Throne I rais'd you to.

Crim.

The highest Seat in all but Monarchs Breasts

Should be by th'high'st of Passions, Love, Possest.

But Kings in so sublime a Region Move:

They have Concerns that must take place of Love.

My Subjects call for Veng'ance, and I must

To the dead King before my Love be Just.

Then give me leave to prosecute his Death,

First wear the Cypress, then the Myrtle Wreath.

Q. M.

Bring in the Queen —

If She delay our Love,

Let out her Blood and those weak Bars Remove.

Enter Guards bringing in the Young Queen.

Muly Labas his Queen and Murderer,

To Expiate his Death you are Summon'd here.

[Page]To prove how much the World by you has lost,

And what Atonement's due t' a Monarch's Ghost.

Y. Q.

Yes Madam, when great Princes Die, I'de have

Their Majesty kept up beyond the Grave.

Such streams of Blood should for their Murders pay;

Their Ghosts should have a Train as great as they.

Q. M.

See Sir she begs her Death as a Reward:

Use Charity, do not her Bliss retard.

to Crimal. aside

Crim.

In Common Murders Blood for Blood may pay:

But when a Martyr'd Monarch dies, we may

His Murderers Condemn; But that's not all:

A Vengeance hangs o're Nations where they Fall.

Q. M.

No Tedious Introductions to her Death:

Good Sir make haste, more business and less Breath.

Crim.

Who wears his Crown can best defend his Cause.

I'le on his Murderer Execute such Laws,

The Rigour of my Justice shall declare,

How high I rate that Majesty I weare —

Q. M.

No Prologues to her Death, let it be done;

I could have kil'd ten Queens while you are judge One.

Crim.

Therefore to prosecute his Death —

Q. M.

Speak Home.

Crim.

I on his Murderer must Pronounce a Doom—

Q. M.

No Mercy, be Severe.

Crim.

— As may Express,

I can't do more, nor can his Blood ask less.

Guards, I on You that Office do Confer,

Obey my Orders, seize This Murderer.

Here the Guards seize the Q. M.

Thy poyson'd Husband, and thy murder'd Son;

This injur'd Empress, and Moroccoes Throne,

Which thy accursed Hand so oft has shook,

Deserves —

A blow more Fierce than Justice ever strook.

Q. M.

Q. M.

Inhumane Villain, Monster, Devil —

Strugling in the Guards.

Crim.

Silence her Fury, Stop her poyson'd Breath;

And check her growing outrage by her Death.

But since to Me you've been so kind t' impart,

Some Favours, and a Title in your Heart:

[Page]In Gratitude and Honour, you shall have

This Mercy, to walk gently to your Grave.

Bid my Physitians a strong Draught prepare,

And leave her Execution to their Care.

Q. M.

Ungrateful Slave!

Crim.

Go— I'le not hear her Plead,

No Arguments shall save a Traytours Head.

All his Revenge demanded, I have done;

to the Y. Queen.

Perform your Vow, accept my Love and Throne.

Q. M.

Hold Sir— I ask not Life; such acts of Grace

Your Bounty may on little Sinners pass.

My Sins are but too Capital, — My Son,

And Poyson'd Husband — What have I not don?

So many Treasons and such bloody Rage,

Would sink an Empire and defame an Age.

No sound but Deaths harsh Name, my Soul could Daunt:

Now all my Sins my frighted Conscience Haunt.

Guilt onely thus to guilty Minds appeares:

As Syrens do to drowning Mariners:

Seen onely by their Eyes whose Deaths are Nigh.

We rarely see our Crimes before we Die.

And now they 're seen, I'm with such Horrour strook;

They seem so large, I dare not Upwards look.

Where's all my Confidence, and Courage driven?

Guilt ne're grows bashful till it thinks of Heaven.

Though I want Pow'r to ask for Mercy there,

I will look down, and beg my Pardon here.

Kneels to the Y. Q.

Fair Innocence, I for your Pardon sue,

T' a condemn'd Traytour, but a Mother too:

Let her repenting Sighs her Griefs impart;

Who thus — Offers her Tears — and thus — thy Heart.

Stabs the Young Queen.

Die Rival — and Die Traytour —

Runs to stab Crimalhaz, but being stopt by the Guards stabs her self.

— Then Die Thou.

Crim.

Morena Kild!

[Page]Q. M.

Yes Sir, and I'de have don the same for You.

But since my Dagger has so feebly don,

Missing thy Breast I've sent it to my own.

If some kind Devil had but took my part,

I'had pierc'd thy Bosom, as I've don thy Heart▪

Curse on weak Nature which my Rage unman'd,

A Masculine heart linkt with a Female Hand.

My Stars had been more just had they design'd

Me less of Hell, or less of Woman-kind.

Y. Q.

T'express my Gratitude, thus low I Bow:

to the Q. M.

Murder was ne're an act of Grace till now.

Your Curteous Arm retrived mine from a Guilt,

Morenas Hand, Morenas Blood had spilt;

Had not that stroke more kindly been decreed.

You ne're did act a Mother, till this Deed:

Here — I perform my Vow —

To Crimalhaz giving him her Hand.

When I've resign'd,

My Soul to Him — take — all I leave behind.

Thy death, Dear Saint; reveng'd, and mine so near,

Such charming objects to my Thoughts appear:

In hopes I shall meet Thee, my Joy's so high,

Methinks I visit Heav'n, before I die.

My mourning Soul durst ne're one thought encline,

To sense of Joy, till it drew nigh to Thine.

Heaven's Blisses are a prize Love only Wins,

Where my Life ends my happiness Begins.

Dyes.▪

Q. M.

Is this your Thanks for all her Love has done!

Who staked her Soul, to raise Thee to a Throne.

Durst you Perfidious Villain, with one Breath,

Pronounce Her Coronation and my Death?

But I've remov'd that Rival: Thanks to Me;

Her wandring Soul is mounted to a Cloud,

But you may Court her still — in Heav'n — if she

Can hear so far, and you can talk so loud.

Crim.

Though against Me your Rage had just pretence;

Yet how durst you assault such Innocence?

[Page]Q. M.

Let single Murthers, Common Hands Suffice:

I Scorn to kill less than whole Families.

In all my Race, I nothing find that's ill;

But that I've Barren been; and wanted still

More Monarchs to dethrone, more Sons to Kill.

My Actions are scarce worth the Memory,

And I am yet too Innocent to Dye.

Had but my Hand performed thy Murther too,

I should meet Death with smiles upon my Brow.

But O [...] my Spirit's Faint — yet I have Breath,

Enough to make a Prayer before my Death.

If there be such a place as yeilds abodes,

To Souls that scorn the company of Gods:

May I in Hell hell's greatest Torments bear,

Provided 'tis thy Doom to meet me there.

Dyes

Crim.

Infection stick upon thy blasted name,

Thou Foile to Monsters and thy Sexes shame.

to Q. M.

But here my Heart to Pity does Incline:

to Y. Queen.

Till now I smil'd at blood, but sigh for Thine.

Vertue farewel, I could bewail thy Fate—

But 'tis a Cowards Crime to grieve too late.

Fury's the Mourning garb great Spirits weare,

From this day for thy sake no Lives I'le spare.

I will send [...]housands to attend thy shade,

Lust made me King, Love has a Tyrant made.

Remove those breathless objects, those dumb shows

Of Majesty; now I'le for deeds prepare:

This morning must▪begin and end a War.

Kind Taffalet does for my presence Call,

I am invited to his Funeral.

The little Champion with impatience waites,

To beg a Tomb before Morocco's Gates.

And rather than his ling [...]ing Fate delay,

I'le with my Army take a walk that way.

His heat of blood, and lust of Crowns shall cease;

Lasht to a Calm and cool'd into a Peace.

[Page]Enter Hametalhaz in hast, a sound of Trumpets heard from within.

Ham

Your Army's routed ere the War's begun,

The City taken, and your Empire won.

And this surprising Conquest is not gain'd,

[...]y Taffalets but Muly Hamets Hand.

Crim.

Muly Hamet from his banishment return'd!

Ham.

Yes, at the News of th' Emperours Death Concern'd;

That his great Master was by you betray'd:

He came to Taffalet, and frankly made

A proffer of his Sword: which brave demand▪

Was by the generous King thus Entertain'd.

Welcome brave Friend; Muly Hamet was ne're taught

To back, but head those Armies where he fought.

That Fame and Glory then which waits on thee,

Shall ner'e be lessen'd when you Fight for me.

With me, brave Youth, thou shalt my Forces lead,

And fight my Equal in my Army's head:

When to your startled squadrons he appears

Taffalets General, who late was theirs.

Their former love renew'd, such Changes wrought,

That they forgot the Cause in which they Fought.

A sudden Clamour Ecchoed through the Throng,

Which Muly Hamet, Muly Hamet, Rung.

By their own hands the Gates were straight pul'd down,

And he in Triumph marcht into the Town.

They paid to him what to their King they owe;

And proudly now aloud proclaim him so.

Crim.

Draw up my Forces, Rouse my Guard, I'le try,

Who's the succesful Rebel, he, or I.

I'le write my Vengeance in whole streams of Blood,

Fortune take your free Choice, be ill or good;

I dare your Worst:—

Yet I deserve to be your Favorite.

Tyrants are kind, to those they cannot Fright.

Exeunt.

[Page]Enter Muly Hamet, and Attendants with drawn Swords, after a sound of Trumpets.

Muly H.

My Cause subdues more than my Sword, the Town

Does at my Feet their prostrate Armes lay down.

Conquest sounds best, and Glory brightest shines,

Where Loyalty, not Force, the Lawrel wins.

Lead to the Palace, through the Guards I'le break,

And to th'Usurper I'le in Thunder speak.

To the infernal Shades I'le send a Ghost,

Stain'd with more Sins than all their Hell can boast.

His Blood, dear Prince, shall pay for shedding thine.

No Cause so just, no Rage so fierce as mine;

Where Loyalty and Love the fuel bring,

A Ravish't Mistress and a Murd'red King.

Exeunt. The Trumpets continue Sounding, and dashing of Swords is heard from within.

Enter Crimalhaz, Hametalhaz, and Attendants, with drawn Swords, as pursued.

Crim.

And Muly Hamet Fighting in their Head.

Ham. Fly quickly, Sir, see where your Guards lye Dead.

The furious Muly Hamet leads 'em on,

Whose Fortune, and whose Sword has Wonders done.

Your Guards hew'd down, He by no Force withstood;

Comes now this way to sacrifice your Blood:

He with such Fears your shaking Palace fills,

That with the Horrour that he brings he Kills.

Crim.

In this long Story, all I can descry,

Is, my Crown's going, and my Death draws nigh.

No, 'tis no common Thunder strikes me Dead:

I've a Retreat yet left to save my Head.

Trumpets sounding.

I by this Hand my [...]inking Throne will stay,

And raign to Morrow, though I fly to day.

Exeunt.

The Scene Changes.

[Page]

Enter Muly Hamet and Abdelcador Attended.

Abdel.

Kind Taffalet—

Concern'd to owe this Conquest to the Charms

Of your Victorious Presence, not his Armes:

Scorning to wear that which his Armes ne're Won,

Frankly Surrenders you Morocco's Crown.

Muly H.

Well generous Prince, this offer'd Crown—

With Thanks and Envy shall Accepted be;

I'le be a Monarch to act deeds like Thee.

Here Mariamne appears from the Balcone above.

My Princess, the bright Charms those Eyes convey,

Compleat th'imperfect Triumphs of this Day:

It does a larger Happiness afford,

To have a Mistress, than a Crown Restor'd.

Here at your Feet, kind Providence has thrown

Your banisht Lover, and your Ravisht Crown.

Your influence, and my Armes so happy prov'd;

Th'usurpers Scepter's to your Hand remov'd:

His blood, when he his forfeit Head dares show,

Shall pay what to your Brothers Dust I owe.

Enter to her Crimalhaz into the Balcone.

Mar.

My Jaylour here. — —

Crim.

Though I am faln so low:

My fortune lost, I may a Beggar grow.

This Mercy does on generous Spirits wait,

You always pity the Unfortunate —

And on that score I'le beg one modest boon;

I'le only ask you to restore my Crown.

Muly H.

Thanks Heaven, the only man whose Head I want.

C [...]im.

Do not thank Heaven, for what It cannot grant.

[Page]My Head, fond man, is for thy reach too high;

I from this Castle thy weak arms defie.

Immur'd within the walls of this strong Tower,

I am so safely Guarded from thy Power;

That I dare tell you, yes and boldly too,

This Head you threaten shall be Crown'd by you.

Muly. H.

What means this Impudence —

Crim.

To end the Strife —

I ask a Crown a Ransome for her Life.

Draws and points his Sword at Mariamnes Breast.

Muly. H.

Here I my baffled hopes of Vengeance lose:

To right my King my Mistress I Expose.

Crim.

I know your Passion has a tye so great,

That for her sake you'le quit th'Imperial Seat.

I knew your Vertue is so strong, that if

You swear you will protect my [...]hrone and Life,

You'le keep your Vow: Swear then by all those Powers

Which the Religious World fears and Adores,

To quit your Claim to Empire; Swear You'le make

Me Monarch in that Throne which youl'e forsake,

And with your Blood you'le guard that Crown you give;

If so, your Mistress shall have leave to Live.

Though you quit Empires, you shall meet these charms

To sleep, and dream of Kingdoms in her Arms.

If not, prepare to see her amourous Breast,

Give entertainment to this Iron Guest.

To this your Answer.

Muly. H.

Savage Infidel,

Monster, there's not a hand on this side Hell,

That dares attempt that Deed; there's not one Dart

In Heav'n, t [...]at would not strike the Murd'rers Heart,

Before his hand should touch her sacred Brest.

Crim.

Since you are with such Heavenly Faith possest,

To think sh'has Champions in the Skies; I'le try,

Who's the best Executioner, Heaven or I.

Muly. H.

Hold Barbr'ous, Cruel, hold your murd'ring hands,

Think on the Vengeance which that Crime attends:

[Page]Think what a fierce Revenge I for her sake,

Will on my Princess bloody Murd'rer take.

Mar.

Hold Muly Hamet, let his Rage goe on.

Can You but think of fear when I have none?

Crim.

To [...]tures and Wracks will prove a vain design:

That hand that sheds her Blood shall let out mine.

Speak quickly then, e▪re words will come too late:

My Crown restor'd, you'le yet redeem her Fate.

Muly H.

My Lawrels, Crowns, and Empires are all yours.

Crim.

Swear then.

Muly. H.

I swear by the Eternal Powers,

For her Lives ransome I this off'ring make:

Morocco and your Crown I'le give you back.

To my last blood I will your life defend,

In Wars your Champion, and in Peace your friend.

Crim.

A silent Grotto, and a shady Grove,

Are far more proper scenes than Thrones for Love.

And though your hand and hers no Scepter bears,

You Lovers may get Kings to be my Heirs.

Mar.

I'le bind my Vow by the same pow'rs you swore.

I'le to a Thousand Deaths my Life expose,

Before I will one Inch of Empire lose.

'Tis not, bold Slave, my threaten'd death can make

To Crim.

My female fears my Right t'a Throne forsake.

Heir to a Crown, though you so fierce have been,

Mariamne scorns to die less than a Queen.

Crim.

So brisk young Champion! Have at thy Heart.

Muly. H.

Stay Sir. Oh cruel Mariamne can you part

From Love and Life to rob the world and me?

Mar.

No Muly Hamet, a worse stain 'twill be

To have my Crown resign'd, than my Blood spilt,

I of the two will choose the lesser guilt.

Fame never shall in Histories express,

Born to be great I yeilded to be less.

Muly. H.

If you aspire to greatness, that I'le grant:

Your Muly Hamet Empires cannot want,

[Page]Whilst he possesses You, and wears a Sword.

And if our Africk does no room afford;

I▪le travel then to some remoter Spheare,

Till I find out new Worlds, and Crown you there.

Mariam.

Tis Honour and not Crowns that I esteem.

And should I basely yield my Throne to him;

My Name and Story would but poorly sound,

Who rais'd a Murd'rer, and a Rebel Crown'd.

No, if at worst I by this Traytour Dye;

Adore my Name, and love my Memory.

Yes Mighty Man, perform this Valiant Part,

To Crim.

Bravely and boldly pierce a Female Heart:

Let story boast, you this great deed fulfil'd;

Your manly hand an unarm'd Woman kil▪d.

Crim.

Since you at scorne and daring are so good,

I'le feel your Pulse, and try your heat of Blood.

Guards fire the Castle.

And while that burns I'le a new shape assume:

I'le Sport and Revel with more pleasing Charms,

Than Nero when he sung to burning Rome.

I'le sing my Funeral Obsequies in these Armes;

I'le Ravish her —

Then throw my self and her into the Fire,

And arm in arm together wee'll Expire.

Burn, Burn the Tower.

Enter Hametalhaz, in the Belcone with Guards, who seizes Crimalhaz and disarmes Him.

Ham.

Before this Tower takes Fire, you'le want a Head.

Crim.

Hametalhaz stand off; am I betray'd!

Ham.

I have no time to answer your demands:

Deliver him to Muly Hamets Hands.

The highest Triumph my weak Arm e're gain'd,

Is to present this Princess to his Hand.

Crim. is forced down by the Guards.

Muly. H.

Her life preserv'd and he the instrument!

What Miracle of Honour has fate sent?

Sure Heav'n acts Wonders! Wonders, no 'tis none —

[Page]What have th'high'r Powers to do but to take care,

Of so much Vertue and a Face so Fair?

Enter Crimalhaz below, led in by Guards.

See him Convey'd to Execution straight:

He as he rose in Blood in Blood shall [...]et.

Crim.

Since I must die, and die Condemn'd by you:

Hear Heav'n, for I ne're troubl'd you till now.

So may my body rot when I am Dead,

Till my rank dust has such Contagions bred:

My Grave may dart forth Plagues, as may strike death

Through the infected Air where thou draw'st breath.

Others may fancy pleasures more divine,

I know not where: this shall in Hell be mine;

To think when dead I yet can Death Convey,

And what my Arm can't act my Ashes may.

Exit Guarded with Abdelcador.

Enter Hametalhaz Leading Mariamne.

Muly. H.

My dear and best Life, welcome. By thy Hand,

My Crown, my Happiness and Heav'n regain'd.

What mystick Blessing does my fate pursue,

To see her Sav'd and see her Sav'd by you?

Ham.

Oh do not at this mystery admire:

Nothing is strange which Beauty does inspire.

To punish Treason and preserve a Throne,

Are due to Mariamnes Eyes alone.

When to his hand I gave that beauteous prize,

Design'd for his ambitions Sacrifice:

When her hard fate, and her bright Charmes I saw,

These did my homage, that my pity draw.

Something so kind I to that face did pay,

That to Serve her I could my trust betray.

Had I [...]een born a Prince, and, in that name

Like You, Erected Trophys to her fame:

In all things then I had your Rival prov'd,

And confidently told her that I Lov'd.

[Page]But wanting worth I wanted words, and chose

This way my speechless Passion to disclose.

I would defend what I could ne're injoy,

And break all bars that did her Peace destroy.

But I too late resolv'd a flight so high:

I cut my wings before I thought to fly:

Too quick to wo [...]k, too weak to prop her Fall.

My Penitence could not my Sins recal,

Till this blest moment and your influence gave

Her dangers and his insolence a Grave.

Muly. H.

Such Honour and such Love! I am Conquer'd here,

My Deeds and Passions are below thy Sphear.

But as your Worth, your Pow'r shall out-reach mine:

Subjects my Homage pay, but Monarchs thine.

Embraces him,

Ham.

Though Heav'n by me her threatned life secures,

And saves her blood to be ally'd to yours.

Despair, not Friendship, yields to that hard task;

I bravely give what I durst never Ask.

Hold Heart while I this Treasure do resign;

And Crown her Bliss with that which ruins mine,

I perish at her feet whom I adore,

The greatest Wracks are nearest to the shore.

Mariam.

Such Language may by Chastest ears be heard,

Your Love I must admire, and he reward.

A Nobler Passion Story never writ,

That turn'd a Traytor to a Proselyte.

Thou best of Converts,

Muly. H.

And of Rivals too,

Sir, as a Tribute to your Vertue due,

All Honours Merit in a Court can meet,

And a kind Monarchs Love, lye at your Feet.

Ham.

Hold, that great act of Mercy must not pass,

Let not your first days Raign a King disgrace.

Of such high Bo [...]nty I'm unworthy still:

My good Acts have not yet out-weighed my ill.

No —

[Page]To some far Country,

I from those Eyes for ever will remove,

I cannot stand the sight of hopeless Love.

Pilgrims, whose Zeal's more blest though less Divine,

Go meet their Saints: but I must fly from mine.

Offers to go.

Muly. H.

Stay I conjure you; stay you shall, you must:

You've made me Great; Let me not be unjust.

Speak what Command, what Pow'r, what Crown you'l choose.

Ham.

Crowns, no, such little Favours I refuse.

None but the place you hold my wish can bound.

But since I have your free offer to be Crown'd,

It is accepted: I a King will be,

And of my Raign make this my first Decree,

This Criminals Banishment, and to pursue

My state, a Conqueror and a King like you;

To what er'e place my wandring steps incline,

I'le fancy Empires for I'le think her mine.

Exit Ham.

§

[Page]

Here the Scene opens, and Crimalhaz appears cast down on the Gaunches, being hung on a Wall set with spikes of Iron. Enter again Abdelcador.

Abd.

See the reward of Treason; Death's the thing

Distinguishes th'Usurper from the King.

Kings are immortal, and from Life remove,

From their Low'r Thrones to wear new Crowns above:

But Heav'n for him has scarce that bliss in store:

When an Usurper dies he raigns no more.

Muly. H.

My Justice ended; now I'le meet a Crown:

Crowns are the Common Prizes I have won.

Those are Entayld on Courage. No 'tis You

Can only yield a Bliss that's great and new.

The Charm of Crowns to Love but dull appears:

Rargning's a whole lifes toyl, the work of Years.

In love a day, an hour, a minut's Bliss,

Is all Flight, Rapture, Flame, and Extasies.

Love's livelyer Joyes so quick and active move;

An Age in Empire's but an Hour in Love.

Exeunt Omnes.

EPILOGUE.

[Page]

[Page]

THis Play like Country Girle come up to Town,

Long'd t'appear fine, in Jewels, and rich Gown;

And so,

Hoping it's Pride you Courtiers would support,

To please You, lost its Maiden-head at Court.

Pufft with the glitt'ring of your gaudy Charms;

It fear'd to meet no danger in your Arms.

And though the harshest Censures be its due;

Yet kinder usage it deserves from you.

A generous Gallant though tired and Cloy'd,

Should still speak well of what he has enjoy'd.

Should you damn this you would your selves reproach,

'Tis barb'rous to defame what you debauch.

Nay, now you've Cast it off, yet do not Frown:

Though like the refuge of a Miss o'th' Town,

It is turn'd Common, Yours for half a Crown.

T'was generous at Court and did for Love,

But does for profit to the Stage remove.

Women and Wit on equal scores begin;

Love and affection first may make 'um Sin,

They trade for Interest when they're once got in.

But for you Sirs, who Censure but not Write;

Who do in Wit, as some in War, delight;

Whose Courages do not much care to Fight:

But though they can't of Scars nor Conquests vapour▪

They can draw sieges and take Towns in Paper.

[Page]You 't will be hard to please;

Critiques whose saving and Condemning, still

Is not your Act of Judgment, but your Will.

Who equal Choice in Plays as Faces make,

What you resolve, not what deserves shall take.

Th [...]s your applause resembles your Amours,

Have we not seen (Oh loves almighty Powers!)

A Wench with tallow- Looks and winter- Face,

Continue one Mans Favorite seven Years space:

Some Ravishing k [...]ack i'th' sport and some brisk motion,

Keeps the gilt Coach and the gallants Devotion.

Be to this Toy thus kind, and you will raise

Much better Fancies to write better Plays.

When meaner Faces are us'd kindly by ye,

What Power have greater Beauties to deny ye.

So your kind Smiles advance the scribling Trade:

To get good Play's you must Excuse the bad.

FINIS.

ERRATA

FIrst page of the E [...]istle line 21 read Authour. pag. 2. l. 16. [...]. to giv [...] [...] Pla [...]. p. 8. l. 13. r. feighn'd, l. 26▪ [...] gilded. p 12. l 3 [...]. deleatur period (.) p. 19. l. 29. r. friend [...], p. 21. l. 25. [...]. hand had run. p. 34. l. 21. [...] ▪ Lent p. 3 [...]. l. 4. r. clouds l. 29. r with, p. 43 r. Euridice p. 45. l. 25. [...]. in the way▪ p. 50. l 6. r. R [...]quests, p. 58. l. 20▪ dele▪ are, p. 60. l. 5. r. her Heart,, p. 62. l. 28. r. Raise my Guard, p. 63. l. 15. r. know.

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

The Empress of Morocco a tragedy, with sculptures / written by Elkanah Settle ...

Settle, Elkanah, 1648-1724.

Edition statement

1673

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-05 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A59307

ID [STC]

Wing S2678

ID [STC]

ESTC R223430

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

12437819

ID [OCLC]

ocm 12437819

ID [VID]

62053

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Early English books online.

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A59307)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 62053)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 296:7)

Source

— The Empress of Morocco a tragedy, with sculptures / written by Elkanah Settle ..., Settle, Elkanah, 1648-1724..

Extent

[11], 72 p., 5 leaves of plates : ill.

Printed for William Cademan ...,. London :: 1673.. (Errata: p. 72.) (Reproduction of original in Yale University Library.)

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