DRAMATIS PERSONAE
The Inca of Peru. MONTEZUMA, his General. ACACIS, son to ZEMPOALLA. TRAXALLA, General to ZEMPOALLA. GARUCCA, a faithful subject to AMEXIA. The God of Dreams. ISMERON, one of the prophets, a conjuror. Officers and Soldiers. Peruvians and Mexicans. Priests.
AMEXIA, the lawful queen of Mexico.
ZEMPOALLA, the usurping Indian Queen.
ORAZIA,daughter to the Inca.
Attendants of Ladies.
THE INDIAN QUEEN.
ACT I. SCENE I.
Enter Inca, ORAZIA, MONTEZUMA, ACACIS, prisoners, with Peruvians.
Inca. Thrice have the Mexicans before us fled,
Their armies broke, their prince in triumph led;
Both to thy valour, brave young man, we owe;
Ask thy reward, but such as it may show
It is a king thou hast obliged, whose mind
Is large, and, like his fortune, unconfined.
Mont. Young, and a stranger, to your court I
came,
There, by your favour, raised to what I am:
I conquer, but in right of your great fate,
And so your arms, not mine, are fortunate.
Inca. I am impatient, till this debt be paid.
Which still encreases on me while delayed;
A bounteous monarch to himself is kind:
Ask such a gift as may for ever bind
Thy service to my empire, and to me.
Mont. What can this gift, he bids me ask him, be!
Perhaps he has perceived our mutual fires,
And now, with ours, would crown his own desires;
'Tis so, he sees my service is above
All other payments but his daughter's love.
[Aside.
Inca. So quick to merit, and to take so slow?
I first prevent small wishes, and bestow
This prince, his sword and fortunes, to thy hand;
He's thine unasked; now make thy free demand.
Mont. Here, prince, receive this sword, as only due
[Gives ACACIS his sword.
To that excess of courage shown in you.—
When you, without demand, a prince bestow,
Less than a prince to ask of you were low.
Inca. Then ask a kingdom; say, where thou wilt reign.
Mont. I beg not empires, those my sword can gain;
But, for my past and future service too,
What I have done, and what I mean to do;
For this of Mexico which I have won,
And kingdoms I will conquer yet unknown;
I only ask from fair Orazia's eyes
To reap the fruits of all my victories.
1 Peru. Our Inca's colour mounts into his face.
2 Peru. His looks speak death.
Inca. Young man of unknown race,
Ask once again; so well thy merits plead,
Thou shall not die for that which thou hast said;
The price of what thou ask'st, thou dost not know;
That gift's too high.
Mont. And all besides too low.
Inca. Once more I bid thee ask.
Mont. Once more I make The same demand.
Inca. The Inca bids thee take Thy choice, what towns, what kingdoms thou would'st have.
Mont. Thou giv'st me only what before I gave. Give me thy daughter.
Inca. Thou deserv'st to die.
O thou great author of our progeny,
Thou glorious sun, dost thou not blush to shine,
While such base blood attempts to mix with thine!
Mont. That sun, thou speak'st of, did not hide his face, When he beheld me conquering with his race.
Inca. My fortunes gave thee thy success in fight! Convey thy boasted valour from my sight; I can o'ercome without thy feeble aid.
[Exeunt Inca, ORAZIA, and Peruvians.
Mont. And is it thus my services are paid? Not all his guards—
[Offers to go, ACACIS holds him.
Aca. Hold, sir.
Mont. Unhand me.
Aca. No, I must your rage prevent
From doing what your reason would repent;
Like the vast seas, your mind no limits knows,
Like them, lies open to each wind that blows.
Mont. Can a revenge, that is so just, be ill?
Aca. It is Orazia's father, you would kill.
Mont. Orazia! how that name has charmed my sword!
Aca. Compose these wild distempers in your breast; Anger, like madness, is appeased by rest.
Mont. Bid children sleep, my spirits boil too high;
But, since Orazia's father must not die,
A nobler vengeance shall my actions guide;
I'll bear the conquest to the conquered side,
Until this Inca for my friendship sues,
And proffers what his pride does now refuse.
Aca. Your honour is obliged to keep your trust.
Mont. He broke that bond, in ceasing to be just.
Aca. Subjects to kings should more obedience pay.
Mont. Subjects are bound, not strangers, to obey.
Aca. Can you so little your Orazia prize,
To give the conquest to her enemies?
Can you so easily forego her sight?
I, that hold liberty more dear than light,
Yet to my freedom should my chains prefer,
And think it were well lost to stay with her.
Mont. How unsuccessfully I still o'ercome!
I brought a rival, not a captive, home;
Yet I may be deceived; but 'tis too late
To clear those doubts, my stay brings certain fate.
[Aside.
Come, prince, you shall to Mexico return,
Where your sad armies do your absence mourn;
And in one battle I will gain you more
Than I have made you lose in three before.
Aca. No, Montezuma, though you change your side, I, as a prisoner, am by honour tied.
Mont. You are my prisoner, and I set you free.
Aca. 'Twere baseness to accept such liberty.
Mont. From him, that conquered you, it should be sought.
Aca. No, but from him, for whom my conqueror fought.
Mont. Still you are mine, his gift has made you so.
Aca. He gave me to his general, not his foe.
Mont. How poorly have you pleaded honour's laws! Yet shun the greatest in your country's cause.
Aca. What succour can the captive give the free.
Mont. A needless captive is an enemy. In painted honour you would seem to shine; But 'twould be clouded, were your wrongs like mine.
Aca. When choler such unbridled power can
have,
Thy virtue seems but thy revenge's slave:
If such injustice should my honour stain,
My aid would prove my nation's loss, not gain.
Mont. Be cozened by thy guilty honesty, To make thyself thy country's enemy.
Aca. I do not mean in the next fight to stain
My sword in blood of any Mexican,
But will be present in the fatal strife,
To guard Orazia's and the Inca's life.
Mont. Orazia's life, fond man! First guard thy own; Her safety she must owe to me alone.
Aca. Your sword, that does such wonders, cannot be, In an ill cause, secure of victory.
Mont. Hark, hark! [Noise of trampling.
Aca. What noise is this invades my ear?
Fly, Montezuma! fly, the guards are near:
To favour your retreat, I'll freely pay
That life, which you so frankly gave this day.
Mont. I must retire; but those, that follow me, Pursue their deaths, and not their victory.
[Exit MONT.
Aca. Our quarrels kinder than our friendships prove: You for my country fight, I for your love.
Enter INCA and Guards.
Inca. I was to blame to leave this madman free; Perhaps he may revolt to the enemy, Or stay, and raise some fatal mutiny.
Aca. Stop your pursuits, for they must pass through me.
Inca. Where is the slave?
Aca. Gone.
Inca. Whither?
Aca. O'er the plain; Where he may soon the camp, or city, gain.
Inca. Curse on my dull neglect! And yet I do less cause of wonder find, That he is gone, than that thou stayest behind.
Aca. My treatment, since you took me, was so free,
It wanted but the name of liberty.
I with less shame can still your captive live,
Than take that freedom, which you did not give.
Inca. Thou brave young man, that hast thy years outdone,
And, losing liberty, hast honour won,
I must myself thy honour's rival make,
And give that freedom, which thou would'st not take.
Go, and be safe.—
Aca. But that you may be so—
Your dangers must be past before I go.
Fierce Montezuma will for fight prepare,
And bend on you the fury of the war,
Which, by my presence, I will turn away,
If fortune gives my Mexicans the day.
Inca. Come, then, we are alike to honour just, Thou to be trusted thus, and I to trust. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—Mexico.
Enter ZEMPOALLA, TRAXALLA, and attendants.
Zemp. O my Acacis!
Does not my grief, Traxalla, seem too rude,
Thus to press out before my gratitude
Has paid my debts to you?—yet it does move
My rage and grief, to see those powers above
Punish such men, as, if they be divine,
They know will most adore, and least repine.
Trax. Those, that can only mourn when they are crost,
May lose themselves with grieving for the lost.
Rather to your retreated troops appear,
And let them see a woman void of fear:
The shame of that may call their spirits home.
Were the prince safe, we were not overcome,
Though we retired: O, his too youthful heat,
That thrust him where the dangers were so great!
Heaven wanted power his person to protect
From that, which he had courage to neglect:
But since he's lost, let us draw forth, and pay
His funeral rites in blood; that we or they
May, in our fates, perform his obsequies,
And make death triumph when Acacis dies.
Zemp. That courage, thou hast shown in fight, seems less
Than this, amidst despair to have excess:
Let thy great deeds force fate to change her mind:
He, that courts fortune boldly, makes her kind.
Trax. If e'er Traxalla so successful proves,
May he then say he hopes, as well as loves;
And that aspiring passion boldly own,
Which gave my prince his fate, and you his throne?
I did not feel remorse to see his blood
Flow from the spring of life into a flood;
Nor did it look like treason, since to me
You were a sovereign much more great than he.
Zemp. He was my brother, yet I scorned to pay
Nature's mean debts, but threw those bonds away;
When his own issue did my hopes remove,
Not only from his empire, but his love.
You, that in all my wrongs then bore a part,
Now need not doubt a place within my heart:
I could not offer you my crown and bed,
Till fame and envy with long time were dead;
But fortune does now happily present
Occasions, fit to second my intent.
Your valour may regain the public love,
And make the people's choice their queen's approve.
[Shout.
Hark, hark, what noise is this, that strikes my ear!
Trax. 'Tis not a sound that should beget a fear; Such shouts as these have I heard often fly From conquering armies, crowned with victory.
Zemp. Great God of vengeance, here I firmly vow,
Make but my Mexicans successful now,
And with a thousand feasts thy flames I'll feed;
And that I take shall on the altars bleed;
Princes themselves shall fall, and make thy shrine,
Died with their blood, in glorious blushes shine.
Enter a Messenger.
Trax. How now! What news is this that makes thy haste a flight?
Mess. Such as brings victory without a fight. The prince Acacis lives—
Zemp. Oh, I am blest!—
Mess. Reserve some joy till I have told the rest.
He's safe, and only wants his liberty:
But that great man, that carries victory
Where'er he goes; that mighty man, by whom
In three set battles we were overcome;
Ill used (it seems) by his ungrateful king,
Does to our camp his fate and valour bring.
The troop gaze on him, as if some bright star
Shot to their aids; call him the god of war:
Whilst he, as if all conquest did of right
Belong to him, bids them prepare to fight;
Which if they should delay one hour, he swears
He'll leave them to their dangers, or their fears,
And shame, which is the ignoble coward's choice.
At this the army seemed to have one voice,
United in a shout, and called upon
The god-like stranger, "Lead us, lead us on."
Make haste, great sir, lest you should come too late,
To share with them in victory, or fate.
Zemp. My general, go; the gods be on our side; Let valour act, but let discretion guide.
[Exit TRAX.
Great god of vengeance,
I see thou dost begin to hear me now:
Make me thy offering, if I break my vow. [Exeunt.
ACT II. SCENE I.
Enter INCA and ORAZIA, as pursued in a battle.
Oraz. O fly, sir, fly; like torrents your swift foes Come rolling on—
Inca. The gods can but destroy. The noblest way to fly is that death shows; I'll court her now, since victory's grown coy.
Oraz. Death's winged to your pursuit, and yet you wait To meet her—
Inca. Poor Orazia, time and fate Must once o'ertake me, though I now should fly.
Oraz. Do not meet death; but when it comes, then die.
Enter three Soldiers.
3 Sold. Stand, sir, and yield yourself, and that fair prey.
Inca. You speak to one, unpractised to obey.
Enter MONTEZUMA.
Mont. Hold, villains, hold, or your rude lives shall be
Lost in the midst of your own victory:
These have I hunted for;—nay, do not stare;
Be gone, and in the common plunder share.
[Exeunt Soldiers.
How different is my fate, from theirs, whose fame
From conquest grows! from conquest grows my shame.
Inca. Why dost thou pause? thou canst not give me back,
With fruitless grief, what I enjoyed before;
No more than seas, repenting of a wreck,
Can with a calm our buried wealth restore.
Mont. 'Twere vain to own repentance, since I know
Thy scorn, which did my passions once despise,
Once more would make my swelling anger flow,
Which now ebbs lower than your miseries:
The gods, that in my fortunes were unkind,
Gave me not sceptres, nor such gilded things;
But, whilst I wanted crowns, enlarged my mind
To despise sceptres, and dispose of kings.
Inca. Thou art but grown a rebel by success,
And I, that scorned Orazia should be tied
To thee my slave, must now esteem thee less:
Rebellion is a greater guilt than pride.
Mont. Princes see others' faults, but not their own;
'Twas you that broke that bond, and set me free:
Yet I attempted not to climb your throne,
And raise myself; but level you to me.
Oraz. O, Montezuma, could thy love engage
Thy soul so little, or make banks so low
About thy heart, that thy revenge and rage,
Like sudden floods, so soon should overflow?
Ye gods, how much I was mistaken here!
I thought you gentle as the gall-less dove;
But you as humoursome as winds appear,
And subject to more passions than your love.
Mont. How have I been betrayed by guilty rage,
Which, like a flame, rose to so vast a height,
That nothing could resist, nor yet assuage,
Till it wrapt all things in one cruel fate.
But I'll redeem myself, and act such things,
That you shall blush Orazia was denied;
And yet make conquest, though with wearied wings,
Take a new flight to your own fainting side.
Inca. Vain man, what foolish thoughts fill thy swelled mind!
It is too late our ruin to recall;
Those, that have once great buildings undermined,
Will prove too weak to prop them in their fall.
Enter TRAXALLA, with the former soldiers.
1 Sold. See, mighty sir, where the bold stranger stands, Who snatched these glorious prisoners from our hands.
Trax. 'Tis the great Inca; seize him as my prey, To crown the triumphs of this glorious day.
Mont. Stay your bold hands from reaching at what's mine,
If any title springs from victory;
You safer may attempt to rob a shrine,
And hope forgiveness from the deity.
Enter ACACIS.
Trax. O, my dear prince, my joys to see you live Are more than all that victory can give.
Aca. How are my best endeavours crost by fate!
Else you had ne'er been lost, or found so late.
Hurried by the wild fury of the fight,
Far from your presence, and Orazia's sight,
I could not all that care and duty show,
Which, as your captive, mighty prince, I owe.
Inca. You often have preserved our lives this day,
And one small debt with many bounties pay.
But human actions hang on springs, that be
Too small, or too remote, for us to see.
My glories freely I to yours resign,
And am your prisoner now, that once were mine.
Mont. These prisoners, sir, are mine by right of war; And I'll maintain that right, if any dare.
Trax. Yes, I would snatch them from thy weak defence;
But that due reverence, which I owe my prince,
Permits me not to quarrel in his sight;
To him I shall refer his general's right.
Mont. I knew too well what justice I should find From an armed plaintiff, and a judge so kind.
Aca. Unkindly urged, that I should use thee so; Thy virtue is my rival, not my foe; The prisoners fortune gave thee shall be thine.
Trax. Would you so great a prize to him resign?
Aca. Should he, who boldly for his prey designed
To dive the deepest under swelling tides,
Have the less title if he chance to find
The richest jewel that the ocean hides?
They are his due—
But in his virtue I repose that trust,
That he will be as kind as I am just:
Dispute not my commands, but go with haste,
Rally our men, they may pursue too fast,
And the disorders of the inviting prey
May turn again the fortune of the day.
[Exit TRAX.
Mont. How gentle all this prince's actions be! Virtue is calm in him, but rough in me.
Aca. Can Montezuma place me in his breast?
Mont. My heart's not large enough for such a guest.
Aca. See, Montezuma, see, Orazia weeps.
[ORAZ. weeps.
Mont. Acacis! is he deaf, or, waking, sleeps?
He does not hear me, sees me not, nor moves;
How firm his eyes are on Orazia fixt!
Gods, that take care of men, let not our loves
Become divided by their being mixt.
Aca. Weep not, fair princess, nor believe you are
A prisoner, subject to the chance of war;
Why should you waste the stock of those fair eyes,
That from mankind can take their liberties?
And you, great sir, think not a generous mind
To virtuous princes dares appear unkind,
Because those princes are unfortunate,
Since over all men hangs a doubtful fate:
One gains by what another is bereft;
The frugal deities have only left
A common bank of happiness below,
Maintained, like nature, by an ebb and flow.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
ZEMPOALLA _appears seated upon a throne, frowning upon her attendants; then comes down and speaks.
Zemp_. No more, you, that above your prince's
dare proclaim,
With your rebellious breath, a stranger's name.
1 Peru. Dread empress—
Zemp. Slaves, perhaps you grieve to see Your young prince glorious, 'cause he sprang from me; Had he been one of base Amexia's brood, Your tongues, though silent now, had then been loud.
Enter TRAXALLA.
Traxalla, welcome; welcomer to me
Than what thou bring'st, a crown and victory.
Trax. All I have done is nothing; fluttering
fame
Now tells no news, but of the stranger's name,
And his great deeds; 'tis he, they cry, by whom
Not men, but war itself is overcome;
Who, bold with his success, dares think to have
A prince to wear his chains, and be his slave.
Zemp. What prince?
Trax. The great Peruvian Inca, that of late
In three set battles was so fortunate,
Till this strange man had power to turn the tide,
And carry conquest into any side.
Zemp. Would you permit a private man to have
The great Peruvian Inca for his slave?
Shame to all princes! was it not just now
I made a sacred, and a solemn vow,
To offer up (if blest with victory)
The prisoners that were took? and they shall die.
Trax. I soon had snatched from this proud stranger's hand
That too great object for his bold demand;
Had not the prince, your son, to whom I owe
A kind obedience, judged it should be so.
Zemp. I'll hear no more; go quickly take my guards,
And from that man force those usurped rewards;
That prince, upon whose ruins I must rise,
Shall be the gods', but more my sacrifice:
They, with my slaves, in triumph shall be tied,
While my devotion justifies my pride:
Those deities, in whom I place my trust,
Shall see, when they are kind, that I am just. [Exit.
Trax. How gladly I obey!
There's something shoots from my enlivened frame,
Like a new soul, but yet without a name,
Nor can I tell what the bold guest will prove;
It must be envy, or it must be love:
Let it be either, 'tis the greatest bliss
For man to grant himself, all he dares wish;
For he, that to himself himself denies,
Proves meanly wretched, to be counted wise.
[Exit TRAXALLA.
SCENE III.
Enter MONTEZUMA and ACACIS.
Aca. You wrong, me, my best friend, not to believe
Your kindness gives me joy; and when I grieve,
Unwillingly my sorrows I obey:
Showers sometimes fall upon a shining day.
Mont.. Let me, then, share your griefs, that in your fate Would have took part.
Aca. Why should you ask me that? Those must be mine, though I have such excess; Divided griefs increase, and not grow less.
Mont. It does not lessen fate, nor satisfy The grave, 'tis true, when friends together die; And yet they are unwilling to divide.
Aca. To such a friend nothing can be denied.
You, when you hear my story, will forgive
My grief, and rather wonder that I live;
Unhappy in my title to a throne,
Since blood made way for my succession:
Blood of an uncle too, a prince so free
From being cruel, it taught cruelty.
His queen Amexia then was big with child;
Nor was he gentler than his queen was mild;
Th'impatient people longed for what should come
From such a father, bred in such a womb;
When false Traxalla, weary to obey,
Took with his life their joys and hopes away.
Amexia, by the assistance of the night,
When this dark deed was acted, took her flight;
Only with true Garucca for her aid:
Since when, for all the searches that were made,
The queen was never heard of more: Yet still
This traitor lives, and prospers by the ill:
Nor does my mother seem to reign alone,
But with this monster shares the guilt and throne.
Horror choaks up my words: now you'll believe,
'Tis just I should do nothing else but grieve.
Mont. Excellent prince! How great a proof of virtue have you shown, To be concerned for griefs, though not your own!
Aca. Pray, say no more.
Enter a Messenger hastily.
Mont. How now, whither so fast?
Mess. O sir, I come too slow with all my haste! The fair Orazia—
Mont. Ha, what dost thou say?
Mess. Orazia with the Inca's forced away
Out of your tent; Traxalla, in the head
Of the rude soldiers, forced the door, and led,
Those glorious captives, who on thrones once shined,
To grace the triumph, that is now designed. [Exit.
Mont. Orazia forced away!—what tempests roll
About my thoughts, and toss my troubled soul!
Can there be gods to see, and suffer this?
Or does mankind make his own fate or bliss;
While every good and bad happens by chance,
Not from their orders, but their ignorance?—
I will pull a ruin on them all,
And turn their triumph to a funeral.
Aca. Be temperate, friend.
Mont. You may as well advise That I should have less love, as grow more wise.
Aca. Yet stay—I did not think to have revealed
A secret, which my heart has still concealed;
But, in this cause since I must share with you,
'Tis fit you know—I love Orazia too:
Delay not then, nor waste the time in words,
Orazia's cause calls only for our swords.
Mont. That ties my hand, and turns from thee that rage
Another way, thy blood should else assuage:
The storm on our proud foes shall higher rise,
And, changing, gather blackness as it flies:
So, when winds turn, the wandering waves obey,
And all the tempest rolls another way.
Aca. Draw then a rival's sword, as I draw mine.
And, like friends suddenly to part, let's join
In this one act, to seek one destiny;
Rivals with honour may together die. [Exeunt.
ACT III. SCENE I.
ZEMPOALLA appears seated upon her Slaves in triumph, and the Indians, as to celebrate the victory, advance in a warlike dance; in the midst of which triumph, ACACIS and MONTEZUMA fall in upon them.
ZEMPOALLA descends from her triumphant throne, and ACACIS and MONTEZUMA _are brought in before her.
Zemp_. Shame of my blood, and traitor to thy own:
Born to dishonour, not command a throne!
Hast thou, with envious eyes, my triumph seen?
Or couldst not see thy mother in thy queen?
Couldst thou a stranger above me prefer?
Aca. It was my honour made my duty err; I could not see his prisoners forced away, To whom I owed my life, and you the day.
Zemp. Is that young man the warrior so renowned?
Mont. Yes, he, that made thy men thrice quit their ground. Do, smile at Montezuma's chains; but know, His valour gave thee power to use him so.
Trax. Grant that it did, what can his merits be,
That sought his vengeance, not our victory?
What has thy brutish fury gained us more,
Than only healed the wounds, it gave before?
Die then, for, whilst thou liv'st, wars cannot cease;
Thou may'st bring victory, but never peace.
Like a black storm thou roll'st about us all,
Even to thyself unquiet, till thy fall.
[Draws to kill him.
Aca. Unthankful villain, hold!
Trax. You must not give Him succour, sir.
Aca. Why then, I must not live. Posterity shall ne'er report, they had Such thankless fathers, or a prince so bad.
Zemp. You're both too bold to will or to deny:
On me alone depends his destiny.
Tell me, audacious stranger, whence could rise
The confidence of this rash enterprise?
Mont. First tell me, how you dared to force from me The fairest spoils of my own victory?
Zemp. Kill him—hold, must he die?—why, let him die;—
Whence should proceed this strange diversity.
In my resolves?
Does he command in chains? What would he do,
Proud slave, if he were free, and I were so?
But is he bound, ye gods, or am I free?
'Tis love, 'tis love, that thus disorders me.
How pride and love tear my divided soul!
For each too narrow, yet both claim it whole:
Love, as the younger, must be forced away.—
Hence with the captives, general, and convey
To several prisons that young man, and this
Peruvian woman.
Trax. How concerned she is! I must know more.
Mont. Fair princess, why should I
Involve that sweetness in my destiny?
I could out-brave my death, were I alone
To suffer, but my fate must pull yours on.
My breast is armed against all sense of fear;
But where your image lies, 'tis tender there.
Inca. Forbear thy saucy love, she cannot be So low, but still she is too high for thee.
Zemp. Be gone, and do as I command; away!
Mont. I ne'er was truly wretched till this day.
Oraz. Think half your sorrows on Orazia fall, And be not so unkind to suffer all: Patience, in cowards, is tame hopeless fear, But, in brave minds, a scorn of what they bear. [Exit Inca, MONTEZUMA, ORAZIA, and TRAXALLA.
Zemp. What grief is this which in your face appears?
Aca. The badge of sorrow, which my soul still wears.
Zemp. Though thy late actions did my anger move,
It cannot rob thee of a mother's love.
Why shouldst thou grieve?
Grief seldom joined with blooming youth is seen;
Can sorrow be where knowledge scarce has been?
Fortune does well for heedless youth provide,
But wisdom does unlucky age misguide;
Cares are the train of present power and state,
But hope lives best that on himself does wait:
O happiest fortune if well understood,
The certain prospect of a future good!
Aca. What joy can empire bring me, when I know That all my greatness to your crimes I owe:
Zemp. Yours be the joy, be mine the punishment.
Aca. In vain, alas, that wish to Heaven is sent For me, if fair Orazia must not live.
Zemp. Why should you ask me what I cannot
give?
She must be sacrificed: Can I bestow
What to the gods, by former vows, I owe?
Aca. O plead not vows; I wish you had not shown You slighted all things sacred for a throne.
Zemp. I love thee so, that, though fear follows still,
And horror urges, all that have been ill,
I could for thee
Act o'er my crimes again; and not repent,
Even when I bore the shame and punishment.
Aca. Could you so many ill acts undertake, And not perform one good one for my sake?
Zemp. Prudence permits not pity should be shown To those, that raised the war to shake my throne.
Aca. As you are wise, permit me to be just;
What prudence will not venture, honour must;
We owe our conquest to the stranger's sword,
Tis just his prisoners be to him restored.
I love Orazia; but a nobler way,
Than for my love my honour to betray.
Zemp. Honour is but an itch of youthful blood,
Of doing acts extravagantly good;
We call that virtue, which is only heat
That reigns in youth, till age finds out the cheat.
Aca. Great actions first did her affections move, And I, by greater, would regain her love.
Zemp. Urge not a suit which I must still deny; Orazia and her father both shall die: Begone, I'll hear no more.
Aca. You stop your ears—
But though a mother will not, Heaven will hear;
Like you I vow, when to the powers divine
You pay her guiltless blood, I'll offer mine. [Exit.
Zemp. She dies, this happy rival, that enjoys
The stranger's love, and all my hopes destroys;
Had she triumphed, what could she more have done,
Than robbed the mother, and enslaved the son?
Nor will I, at the name of cruel, stay:
Let dull successive monarchs mildly sway:
Their conquering fathers did the laws forsake,
And broke the old, ere they the new could make,
I must pursue my love; yet love, enjoyed,
Will, with esteem, that caused it first, grow less:
But thirst and hunger fear not to be cloyed,
And when they be, are cured by their excess.
Enter TRAXALLA.
Trax. Now I shall see, what thoughts her heart
conceals;
For that, which wisdom covers, love reveals. [Aside.
Madam, the prisoners are disposed.
Zemp. They are? And how fares our young blustering man of war? Does he support his chains with patience yet?
Trax. He, and the princess, madam—
Zemp. Are they met?
Trax. No: but from whence is all this passion grown?
Zemp. 'Twas a mistake.
Trax. I find this rash unknown Is dangerous; and, if not timely slain, May plunge your empire in new wars again.
Zemp. Thank ye; I shall consider.
Trax. Is that all?
The army doat on him, already call
You cruel; and, for aught I know, they may
By force unchain, and crown him in a day.
Zemp. You say, I have already had their curse For his bad usage; should I use him worse?
Trax. Yet once you feared his reputation might Obscure the prince's in the people's sight.
Zemp. Time will inform us best what course to
steer,
But let us not our sacred vows defer:
The Inca and his daughter both shall die.
Trax. He suffers justly for the war; but why Should she share his sad fate? A poor pretence, That birth should make a crime of innocence.
Zemp. Yet we destroy the poisonous viper's young, Not for themselves, but those from whom they sprung.
Trax. O no, they die not for their parents' sake,
But for the poisonous seed which they partake.
Once more behold her, and then let her die,
If in that face or person you can see
But any place to fix a cruelty.
The heavens have clouds, and spots are in the moon;
But faultless beauty shines in her alone.
Zemp. Beauty has wrought compassion in your mind!
Trax. And you to valour are become as kind. To former services there's something due, Yet be advised—
Zemp. Yes, by myself, not you.
Trax. Princes are sacred.
Zemp. True, whilst they are free:
But power once lost, farewell their sanctity:
'Tis power, to which the gods their worship owe,
Which, uncontrouled, makes all things just below:
Thou dost the plea of saucy rebels use;
They will be judge of what their prince must chuse:
Hard fate of monarchs, not allowed to know
When safe, but as their subjects tell them so.
Then princes but like public pageants move,
And seem to sway, because they sit above. [Exit.
Trax. She loves him; in one moment this new
guest
Has drove me out from this false woman's breast;
They, that would fetter love with constancy,
Make bonds to chain themselves, but leave him free
With what impatience I her falsehood bear!
Yet do myself that, which I blame in her;
But interest in my own cause makes me see
That act unjust in her, but just in me. [Exit.
SCENE II.
ISMERON asleep.—Enter ZEMPOALLA.
Zemp. Ho, Ismeron, Ismeron!
He stirs not; ha, in such a dismal cell
Can gentle sleep with his soft blessings dwell?
Must I feel tortures in a human breast,
While beasts and monsters can enjoy their rest?
What quiet they possess in sleep's calm bliss!
The lions cease to roar, the snakes to hiss,
While I am kept awake,
Only to entertain my miseries.
Or if a slumber steal upon my eyes,
Some horrid dream my labouring soul benumbs
And brings fate to me sooner than it comes.
Fears most oppress when sleep has seized upon
The outward parts, and left the soul alone.
What envied blessings these cursed things enjoy!
Next to possess, 'tis pleasure to destroy.
Ismeron! ho, Ismeron, Ismeron! [Stamps.
Ism. Who's that, that with so loud and fierce a call Disturbs my rest?
Zemp. She, that has none at all, Nor ever must, unless thy powerful art Can charm the passions of a troubled heart.
Ism. How can you have a discontented mind, To whom the gods have lately been so kind?
Zemp. Their envious kindness how can I enjoy, When they give blessings, and the use destroy?
Ism. Dread empress, tell the cause of all your grief; If art can help, be sure of quick relief.
Zemp. I dreamed, before the altar that I led
A mighty lion in a twisted thread;
I shook to hold him in so slight a tie,
Yet had not power to seek a remedy:
When, in the midst of all my fears, a clove,
With hovering wings, descended from above,
Flew to the lion, and embraces spread,
With wings, like clasping arms, about his head,
Making that murmuring noise that cooing doves
Use, in the soft expression of their loves;
While I, fixed by my wonder, gazed to see
So mild a creature with so fierce agree:
At last the gentle dove turned from his head,
And, pecking, tried to break the slender thread,
Which instantly she severed, and released
From that small bond the fierce and mighty beast,
Who presently turned all his rage on me,
And, with his freedom, brought my destiny.
Ism. Dread empress, this strange vision you relate
Is big with wonder, and too full of fate,
Without the god's assistance, to expound.
In those low regions, where sad night hangs round
The drowsy vaults, and where moist vapours steep
The god's dull brows, that sways the realm of sleep;
There all the informing elements repair,
Swift messengers of water, fire, and air,
To give account of actions, whence they came,
And how they govern every mortal frame;
How, from their various mixture, or their strife,
Are known the calms and tempests of our life:
Thence souls, when sleep their bodies overcome,
Have some imperfect knowledge of their doom.
From those dark caves those powers shall strait appear;
Be not afraid, whatever shapes they wear.
Zemp. There's nothing, thou canst raise, can make me start; A living form can only shake my heart.
Ism. You twice ten hundred deities,
To whom we daily sacrifice;
You powers, that dwell with fate below,
And see what men are doomed to do;
Where elements in discord dwell;
Thou god of sleep, arise and tell
Great Zempoalla what strange fate
Must on her dismal vision wait.
Zemp. How slow these spirits are! Call, make them rise, Or they shall fast from flame and sacrifice.
Ism. Great empress,
Let not your rage offend what we adore,
And vainly threaten, when we must implore.
Sit silently, and attend—
While my powerful charms I end.
By the croaking of the toad,
In their caves that make abode;
Earthy Dun that pants for breath,
With her swelled sides full of death;
By the crested adders' pride,
That along the clifts do glide;
By thy visage fierce and black;
By the death's-head on thy back;
By the twisted serpents placed
For a girdle round thy waist;
By the hearts of gold that deck
Thy breast, thy shoulders, and thy neck:
From thy sleepy mansion rise,
And open thy unwilling eyes,
While bubbling springs their music keep,
That use to lull thee in thy sleep.
God of Dreams rises.
God. Seek not to know what must not be revealed;
Joys only flow where fate is most concealed:
Too busy man would find his sorrows more,
If future fortunes he should know before;
For, by that knowledge of his destiny,
He would not live at all, but always die.
Enquire not, then, who shall from bonds be freed,
Who 'tis shall wear a crown, and who shall bleed:
All must submit to their appointed doom;
Fate and misfortune will too quickly come:
Let me no more with powerful charms be pressed;
I am forbid by fate to tell the rest.
[The god descends.
Zemp. Stay, cozener, thou, that hat'st clear truth like light,
And usest words dark as thy own dull night.
You tyrant gods, do you refuse to free
The soul, you gave, from its perplexity?
Why should we in your mercies still believe,
When you can never pity, though we grieve?
For you have bound yourselves by harsh decrees;
And those, not you, are now the deities.
[Sits down sad.
Ism. She droops under the weight of rage and care:
You spirits, that inhabit in the air,
With all your powerful charms of music, try
To bring-her soul back to its harmony.
SONG SUNG BY AERIAL SPIRITS.
Poor mortals, that are clogged with earth below,
Sink under love and care,
While we, that dwell in air,
Such heavy passions never know.
Why then should mortals be
Unwilling to be free
From blood, that sullen cloud,
Which shining souls does shroud?
Then they'll shew bright,
And like us light,
When leaving bodies with their care,
They slide to us and air.
Zemp. Death on these trifles! Cannot your art find
Some means, to ease the passions of the mind?
Or, if you cannot give a lover rest,
Can you force love into a scornful breast?
Ism. Tis reason only can make passions less;
Art gives not new, but may the old increase;
Nor can it alter love in any breast,
That is with other flames before possessed.
Zemp. If this be all your slighted arts can do, I'll kindle other flames, since I must burn, And all their temples into ashes turn.
Ism. Great queen—
_Zemp. If you would have this sentence staid,
Summon their godheads quickly to your aid,
And presently compose a charm, that may
Love's flames into the stranger's breast convey,
The captive stranger, he whose sword and eyes
Wheree'er they strike, meet ready victories:
Make him but burn for me, in flames like mine,
Victims shall bleed, and feasted altars shine:
If not—
Down go your temples, and your gods shall see
They have small use of their divinity. [Exeunt.