Mel. Madam, the strange reverse of fate you see:
I pitied you, now you may pity me.[Exit after him.
Ind. Poor princess! thy hard fate I could bemoan,
Had I not nearer sorrows of my own.
Beauty is seldom fortunate, when great:
A vast estate, but overcharged with debt.
Like those, whom want to baseness does betray,
I'm forced to flatter him, I cannot pay.
O would he be content to seize the throne!
I beg the life of Aureng-Zebe alone.
Whom heaven would bless, from pomp it will remove,
And make their wealth in privacy and love.[Exit.
ACT IV. SCENE I.
Aureng-Zebe alone.
Distrust, and darkness, of a future state,
Make poor mankind so fearful of their fate.
Death, in itself, is nothing; but we fear,
To be we know not what, we know not where.[Soft music.
This is the ceremony of my fate:
A parting treat; and I'm to die in state.
They lodge me, as I were the Persian King:
And with luxuriant pomp my death they bring.
To him, Nourmahal.
Nour. I thought, before you drew your latest breath,
To smooth your passage, and to soften death;
For I would have you, when you upward move,
Speak kindly of me, to our friends above:
Nor name me there the occasion of our fate;
Or what my interest does, impute to hate.
Aur. I ask not for what end your pomp's designed;
Whether to insult, or to compose my mind:
I marked it not;
But, knowing death would soon the assault begin,
Stood firm collected in my strength within:
To guard that breach did all my forces guide,
And left unmanned the quiet sense's side.
Nour. Because Morat from me his being took,
All I can say will much suspected look:
'Tis little to confess, your fate I grieve;
Yet more than you would easily believe.
Aur. Since my inevitable death you know,
You safely unavailing pity shew:
'Tis popular to mourn a dying foe.