University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

Enter Sheker Para, followed by Achmet.
Shek.
Enough, Oh Achmet!—Hold! for I can bear no more,
And yet the Inquisitive Soul, set on mischief,
And bent for ruine, hangs on the fatal story,
Though every Period gives me Death.
—Was my Curst Rival Fair?
For of her Beauty, you have nothing said;
Or else I left that part unheeded.

Achm.
Fair!—not opening Flowers,
Not the first streaks of rising Day,
Not Painted Angels are half so Charming!
Eternal smiles still Grace her Cheeks,
And Majesty her Eyes; a Thrilling Musick
Is in her Voice; which touches every vital,
And teaches hearts to dance.

Shek.
I have it now! Her Beauty then be her destruction;
But—Great Talkers seldom Act, and mighty words
Are mighty nothings; like the Crackling Thunder,
Which makes Women fear but seldom harms:
'Tis the thinking Mind that in her own dark Cell
Revolves, and then performs—
Where's the Sultan and the Visier?

Achm.
The Sultan's retir'd to his Repose;
The Visier in his Apartment alone.

Shek.
Faithful Achmet! take this Jewel—
And think thy wretched Mistress loves thee,
Though her thoughts are now too full
To Express it—
Thrown, like a neglected Flower from the Bosom,
Where I wou'd have flourished,
How quickly shall I fade! Yet—
With the First Angels Expell'd I'll try
To draw Morena down, that Saint above,
To my black Region of Despair!

Achm.
Though she has Charms, wou'd stop the fury
Of our Barbarous Troops, when they take
A Christian Town; yet I cou'd flea her lovely Face
With my Keen Dagger; extinguish those
Shining Lights, her Eyes, to Revenge my Patroness!

Shek.
Yes, Rival!—
Of thy Vow'd Constancy, I'll tryal make;
And thou shalt suffer, for thy Lovers sake!
If Amurat Thou Lovest to that degree,
My sweet Revenge will then compleated be;
For I'll take care to spoil the Worshipt Shrine,
And tear Thy Heart, as thou hast tortur'd mine!

The Visier sitting by a Table, whereon lie Books of Account, Rises.
Vis.
What is't to amass these mighty sums of Wealth,
To be daily crowded with presents from European Kings,
To Command on Land, and Sea, next to our Lord,
Whilst yet I stand unsafe between these Rocks
Of Regulating the People, and a Tyrant Prince!
All those bitter curses which they dare not shoot
At Ibrahim, fall thick on me, the Mufti,
And Mustapha, that Aga of the Janizaries,
Are two I hate, the first, because
Like other Churchmen, instead of Prayers,
He studies Politicks; in vain they Preach
Humility, and teach us to look up for Crowns above:
When we behold them fix'd on these below,
And more ambitious than the Kings that wear 'em,
The Aga's Son, that hot-brain'd Youth, Amurat,
Who dares fight, and therefore scorns to bow,
Or seek my favour: These have censur'd me,
And on these I'll be reveng'd—

Enter Sheker Para behind him.
Shek.
On whom is't thou art studying revenge,
Old Statesman! would'st thou have it better,
Deep and secure; take a Woman with thee!
—Or Bloody, as thy remorseless Heart can frame,
Still take a Woman's Counsel! But—
Say, Arem, who is mark'd for Vengeance?

Vis.
To you, I think, I may disclose—For
All your Foes are mine, and mine are yours—
The Mufti and Mustapha look awry on our Actions,
Sowing Sedition instead of wholsome Doctrine.

Shek.
By Heaven! The very same these are,
Those I wou'd destroy—And for that purpose
Sought you now—I've laid a Train—
Which wants but your assistance to o'erthrow 'em all.

Vis.
Name it, fair Charmer, quickly!

Shek.
This old Crafty Priest conceals a Daughter,
Whose Beauty, I am told, without the help of Flattery,
(Eccels her Sex) to Ibrahim.
The Charming wonders I'll relate!
Set his Amorous Soul on Fire.

Vis.
Hold Madam! have you consider'd what you say?
—Is this the vow'd Revenge—to make
His Daughter a Sultana Queen?

Shek.
Short Sighted Politician!—
Had he design'd her for our Lord, why was she
Thus close conceal'd? Besides; I know
The Mufti hates our Licentious Emperour; his late
Attempt upon the Relict of Morat;
His despising all his Queens when once enjoy'd;
Three Sons already to bless the Imperial Line,
And make succession sure. Therefore
Shou'd her Womb prove fertil; the Royal Innocents
Are only Born for Sacrifice—these Reasons
Weigh'd as soon he'd give his Daughter
To a Brothel, as the Sultans Arms.

Vis.
I yield.—Let it but provoke him, or his Friends
To Murmur, and I'll strangle Rebellion in their Throats.

Shek.
Come with me, and attend the Sultan;
As we go, I'll instruct you, how
This Contrivance reaches the Aga, and his Son,
Breaking all their Measures.

Vis.
I wait upon you.

[Exeunt.
[The Sultan upon a Couch, Achmet by him.
Ibra.
From troubl'd Dreams my tortur'd Fancy Starts:
Sleep, meant nature's refreshing Friend, sits heavy
On my Soul, as Death her most inveterate Foe.
Achmet! my faithful Boy! art thou there!

[Sees Achmet.
Achm.
Dread Sir the Musick waits without!
Prepar'd by the Italian Masters—Their Melody
May Chase these Melancholy Fumes away.

Ibr.
Admit 'em.


A SONG.
Imperial Sultan, Hail,
To whom Great Kingdoms bow,
Whose Vast Dominion shall prevail
O'er all below,
Commanding Woman here
An Humble Vassal shall appear,
No thunder in her Voice we prize,
Or Lightning in her Eyes,
When our Terrestrial God draws near.
Under our Prophets Influ'nce Live,
While wondring Nations view
The deeds your Conquering Armies do
And Christians to be made your subjects strive.

Enter Visier and Shekar Para.
Shekar
kneeling.
—Health to the Ruler of the World;
Success attend his Armies: whilst
His own happy Hours, with surprizing Joys
Are ever Crown'd; and long Life proves
A Seraphick Cordial, without Alloy or Dregs.

Visier.
May all the mighty Ibrahims, and
Our Prophet's Foes fall beneath his Feet;
And every Slave bear a Heart—
Obedient, and Fond as mine

Sult.
As Heaven hath given me a Despotick
And unbounded Power: so shall my Pleasures be.
But oh! the Earth's too little; and its Pleasures
Too few! I cannot keep my mind
In a continued Frame of Joy; tho' the Slaves
That serve me, vie with the Stars for number!
Nay, tho' you, my Charming Mistress,
Whose very conceptions, like your Wit, Divine,
And like your Beauty pleasing: tho' you, I say,
Set your Invention on the Wrack, for my Diversion;
Yet still, to day's like yesterday: to morrow like to day.
And tho' my Paths lie all thro' Paradise:
Yet being still the self-same Road, I grow uneasie.

Shek.
Alas! Dread Sir! we've been mistaken;
In vain we've search'd Persia, and
Armenia, and Ransack'd Greece in vain;
Whilst within your own Royal Gates
Of this Seraglio lives a Helene, whose
Lovely Face strikes Envy dumb.
Late I saw her at the Baths;
But, Heavens, such a Creature
My astonish'd Eyes ne're view'd before.
A Skin clear as the upper Region,
Where Thickening Clouds can never mount:
And strow'd with Blushes, like the glorious space
Of Summer's setting Suns.
Her large Black Eyes shot Rays intermingl'd
With becoming Pride, and taking Sweetness.

The Sultan Rises hastily.
Sult.
—Here in our Pallace—impossible
—Of what Name? what Quality?—

Shek.
Morena, only Daughter to the Mufti—But
For what cause conceal'd I am ignorant.

Vis.
Had I Daughter, or Wife, whose Attractions
Cou'd draw the Sultan's Eyes; how quickly shou'd she be offer'd!

Sult.
By Heaven! I'll see her, see her this very moment;
And if she answers your Description,
She's mine; first with Prayers, and Mildness
We'll proceed; but, if the surly Fool denies;
He soon shall find that Prayers are
Needless, when Power is Infinite.

Vis.
I humbly beg to be excus'd, because
The Mufti bears me mortal hate.

Sult.
Come thou, my Shekar, Para,
Thy Eloquence may be useful,
Tho' few perswasions sure will
Prevail, to make a Woman Reign.

Exeunt Attended
The Scene changes to the Mufti's Apartment: He sits Reading.
A Servant Enters hastily.
Serv.
Oh! Sir—I saw the Sultan pass the Long Gallery
That parts the Old Seraglio from the New;
And bend his steps directly hither—He's 'een at my Heels!

Muft.
What can this visit mean?
But I am arm'd with Innocence
And therefore know no fear.

Enter Ibrahim, Sheker Para Achmet, and several Attendants.
Muft.
Sacred Sir! I am amazed—
At these unwonted Honours; and if I fail
In the expressions of my Joy; let my
Confusion plead my excuse.

Ibr.
'Tis all well, and the visit meant in kindness:
I think when last I saw you,
You asked for Amurat's appearance at our Port—
Selim go thou to the Imperial Camp
And tell the Youth he shall be Welcome
There as soon as he pleases.

Muft.
Let me kiss your Sacred Robe,
In thankfulness.—Oh! mighty Sultan,
Who daigns thus to oblige his Vassals.

Ibr.
Mufti—I hear thou hast a Daughter—
Why dost thou start, Old Man?—
If Fame may be believed thou need'st not shame
To own the Beautious Maid—
Send for her hither, for I will see her.

Muft.
Oh! Pardon me Emperour, the Girl is most unfit
For you to see, Bred up in Cells, and Grotto's:
Tho' so near a Court, wholly unacquainted with its Glories.
Heaven not Blessing me with a Male, I have try'd
To mend the Sex; and she, instead of (coining looks)
And learning little Arts to please, hath Read
Philosophy, History, those rough Studies:
And will appear like a neglected Villager
To those bright Beauties that attend the happy Port.

Ibr.
Ha! Is this our entertainment—to be deny'd
What we desire! go some of you and fetch the Maid.

Exeunt two Eunuchs.
Muft.
Tho' you are Lord of all, and may without controul
Command, yet Emperor, Remember,
My Daughter is no Slave, and our holy Law
Forbids that you should force the free,
Therefore if the unhappy Girl shou'd please,
And then refuse the offered Greatness; our Prophets Curse
Falls heavy, if you proceed to Violation.

Enter Morena Veil'd.
Muft.
Kneel Daughter, to the Commander of the World.

Ibr.
Take off her Veil—by Heavens—
A charming Creature!
Raise thee from the Earth, and lift thy eyes to Glory,
A Crown will well become that Brow; Destiny
Hath mark'd thee for Command—I see
Prevailing modesty is in her eyes;
The shining springs are full of tears—
I'll urge no farther now; but leave my
Shekar Para, to prepare for the Excelling honours
I design her; Mufti, come you with me, and let us
Farther consult of this Important business.

Exeunt the Sultan Mufti and Eunuchs: except Achmet.
Shek.
Hail! Happy Maid! whom Fate has blest;
Whose Illustrious Eyes have caught
The Monarch of the Earth, Ibrahim!
Companion to the Sun, and Brother to the Stars!
His Sacred presence strikes an universal aw;
And next to the Immortals he is worshipt here.
What a long Train of glory is opening to your view,
Mounting on shining Thrones your beauties Merit!
Whilst thousand ready slaves stand watching
The Motions of your eyes, and e're you form
Your breath into command, 'tis done.

Mor.
Cease Madam, you use your Eloquence in vain,
Menaces, Prayers, and Promises are lost on me.
Already I have Slaves, who wait on my desires,
And fulfil whatever I command: more is but superfluous;
No Crown I covet, but that which honour gives;
And my Ambition terminates in the contented paths
Of virtue. All your Efforts to alter me,
Like waves against a Rock, will dash themselves,
But stir not my Foundation.

Shek.
Why do ye view me with that haughty
Regardless Air, as if I were your Enemy?
When I so long to be your Friend.

Mor.
Oh! mistake me not,—If my looks
Carry a disdain, 'tis on the Crowns you offer;
Not on you, Alas! you only can be my Friend;
And divert the Emperour from the pursuit
Of this short-liv'd passion; you do not know
The secret pleasing cause that will, I am sure,
Inspire me rather to dye than yield.

Shek
(aside)
Too well I know it!
—If I cou'd assist, tho' your desires are strange,
Yet, you have something so ingaging,
If I cou'd, I say, I wou'd.

Mor.
Oh! 'tis greatly in your power—
Tell the Sultan you have discovered,
As you easily may a thousand Imperfections
That I am sickly, peevish, ill Bred, and
Of a hateful disposition.—

Shek.
I cannot so deny your Excellencies;
But I will do my best, that you shall hear of this no more.

Mor.
And now, fair Oratrix,
Who plead'st too well for such a cause;
Apply thy Rhetorick to Ibrahim;
And defend Morena's Life and Honour.

Shek.
Rest secur'd, I am wholly yours,
Retire fair Innocence, for I see
This surprize has discomposed ye.
The Lively Red forsakes the charming Circle
Of your cheeks, and fainting paleness takes its place:
Retire, and let this Rancontre never trouble your repose.
Exit. Morena.
Poor easy Fool! blush Amurat
At thy ill choice!—take me
For her Friend! yes to her destruction
I'll prove a constant one.
Achmet!—

Ach.
Madam.

Shek.
I go to seek the Sultan, chuse some
Of the Eunuchs you command, and fetch
Morena to him, if you meet resistance,
Bring her by force: I saw Ibrahim
Fasten his Eyes upon her, and I know
The present will be welcome, now if delay
The roving desires of that unstedfast Prince
May fix elsewhere, and my designs be lost;
Make haste, her Father is not yet returned,
And you may do it with much ease

Ach.
It shall be done e're you have time to think the consequence.

Exit.
Shek.
Revenge! how quick and lively are thy Joys?
Love is a sweetness, that but tasted cloys;
Love must be fondled with a gentle hand
Revenge is God like all, and shows command.

Exit.
The Sultan Enters; the Visier following him.
Sult.
VVou'dst thou believe it Azema—
This crabbed Priest do's in effect
Deny his Daughter; curses he denounces
If I compel her will, and seems
To know she'll prove unwilling.

Vis.
In this his disloyalty too plain appears
What other Grandee o'th' happy Port
But with open arms wou'd embrace the honour
And lay his Daughter prostrate at your Royal feet.

Sult.
True, therefore we'll on and fathom
His Designs, the Maidens Beauty
Has inflam'd me—who dares oppose
When I resolve Enjoyment?
Enter Shek. Par.
What News, my Sheker, hast thou brought her?

Shek.
O no! with Roman Courage, and most
Unequall'd Resolution she repuls'd
Whatever I cou'd offer, nor wou'd a Diadem,
Or the Crown Imperial tempt her.

Sult.
How comes the lovely Maid to bear a Heart
Thus stubborn! and look so sweetly mild?

Vis.
'Tis her Father who has transferr'd
His own traiterous Principles to her,
Taught her early Disobedience
(That I live to speak it!)
Taught her to abhor your Royal Person.

Shek.
But your Majesty now may mould her as you please,
Within a moment she'll be here;
I took the opportunity of her Fathers absence,
And order'd Achmet, with his Fellows, to bring
Her hither.

Sult.
You have done well,
Shall my almighty Will
Which half the Universe obeys,
Without dispute be contradicted
By a Woman?

Shek.
I hear 'em coming.

Achmet brings Morena, who speaks entring.
Mor.
Whither? Ah! Whither?
Do ye drag me, Audacious Slaves
Am I to be thus used?

Vis.
Madam, silence and awe best becomes
This place which the dread Majesty of all the World contains,
Nay our Law's so strict
That an outragious Noise near the Sacred presence
Is punish'd with immediate Death.

Mor.
Death I despise as I do thee,
Who art not worth my answering.
But to mine and my Countreys Lord
I cast me with an obedient heart:
Daign Mighty Sultan to hear with Mercy
What your weeping Slave can say!
Far be it from your humble Handmaid
To refuse the vast Honour of your offer'd Love
Thro' pride—Oh! no!
Holy binding vows are past already
And horrid imprecations, which if I break,
Distraction, despair, eternal ruine
Straight will seize me—I know
Your royal heart is full of soft humanity
And God like Justice; you cannot take
Anothers right—a thousand willing beauties
VVill with Joy, Embrace those favours
I must ever fly—

Ibr.
If thou hast vow'd, I cancel it,
My Subjects are my slaves, who er'e
Pretends a right to what I desire
Is a Traytor, and shall so be punished
If thus perverse you must be forced
To your own happiness—
—Achmet—

Mor.
O spare me Emperor! spare me!
And all my future life I'll spend
In prayers for Ibrahim!
Each morning as I bless the rising day
I'll cry aloud, this id'e seen no more,
Had not my God like Master heard:
I'll never eat, nor sleep, nor
Ought of life enjoy, before I have pray'd for
And after praised our Lord!

Ibr.
Achmet—bear her to the royal bed.

Mor.
Hold! yet a moment—hold!
I have one thing more to say
As I have often heard my wretched Father tell
—When fierce Morat, your Predecessor
Doom'd his brothers, even all the young Princes
Of the Imperial race, to suddain death,
They dyed: my Father begged for you:
Begged till he prevail'd: Oh! if this merit ought
Punish my disobedience with Wracks with Gibbets,
With any thing but loss of honour!
Tear out my eyes, stab, mangle my face;
Till it grow horrible to Nature
And the amazed world gaze with terror,
Not delight: burn me! heap torture
Upon torture! and if I murmur a complaint
Fulfil the bitterst curse—Release,
And bear me to your bed!

Shek.
Speak Visier, he stands confounded.

Vis.
Dread Sir, what stops your wishes?
This is nothing but a gust of Passion,
Plain Woman, her will is crost,
And so she raves! e're while you mourn'd
Your pleasures were too much alike;
Fate hath now obliged ye:
This beauteous Maid resists: and all
You ever had before, were willing.

Ibr.
And there may be a new unknown delight
To conquer all these struglings,
Something Poignant, that will relish Luxury—
Do as I Commanded—
1 of the Eunuchs.
Wou'd our worshipt Lord free this
Mourning Fair; Id'e search the
Earth's bounds, to find another,
That might please as well.

Ibr.
Taught by my Slave!
Take that, presuming fool.

Stabs him.
Mor.
Murder, and Rapine!
What a horrid place is here!
My turn is next—

She catches hold of the Sultans naked Scimiter.
Ibr.
Let go rash Maid,—
Or I shall hurt thee.

Mor.
Never, never, I'll leap, and
Fix it to my breast, while some kind God
That sees the anguish of my Soul
Shall help my weakness, and send it to my heart!

Ibr.
Some of you unlose her hold—

Mor.
Then thus I quit it.
Draws it thro' her hands.
See Emperor, see, are these hands
Fit to clasp thee? judge by this,
My resolution—death hath a
Thousand doors; Sure Morena, curst Morena
May find out one—

Ibr.
Slaves, why dally ye thus?
By Heaven rage is mixt with love,
And I am all on fire!
Drag her to yond Apartments!

Mor.
Do Tyrant! but 'tis thy last of mischiefs
If thou dost not kill me—
With dishevell'd hair, torn Robes, and
These bloody hands, I'll run thro' all thy Guards
And Camp, whilst my just complaints, compel rebellion!

Vis.
Yet here! force her way!

Mor.
I will not stir, fixt upon Earth,
I'll rend obdurate Heaven with piercing
Crys; till I have forced their mercy!
Help! help! open thou Earth to hide me!
Have my woes not weight enough to sink me
To the Center?—at length 'tis come;
My spirits are decay'd, Oh Amurat!
Where art thou? and where (alas) am I?

Swoons.
Vis.
She faints, convey her quickly in,
Your Majesty
Will soon revive her.

Ibr.
Threatning Danger shall never bar my way,
I'll rush thro' all, and seize the trembling prey:
Rifle her sweets, till sense is fully cloy'd;
Then take my turn to scorn what I've enjoy'd.

Exit.