 | The Sophy |  |
Actus Tertius.
Scena Prima.
Enter King; and Haly.King.
But Haly, what confederates ha's the Prince
In his conspiracie?
Ha.
Sir, I can yet suspect
None but the Turkish prisoners, and that onely
From their late sudden flight.
King.
Are they fled? for what?
Ha.
That, their owne feares best know, their entertainment
I'me sure was such as could not minister
Suspition, or dislike; but sure they're conscious
Of some intended mischiefe, and are fled
To put it into act.
King.
This still confirmes me more,
But let 'em be pursu'd; let all the passages
Be well secur'd, that no intelligence
May passe betweene the Prince and them.
Ha.
It shall be done Sir.
King.
Is the Caliph prepar'd.
Ha.
Hee's without, Sir,
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King.
Call him.
Enter Haly, and Caliph.
King.
I have a great designe to act, in which
The greatest part is thine. In briefe 'tis this,
I feare my sonnes high spirit, and suspect
Designes upon my life and Crowne.
Ca.
Sure Sir, your feares are causelesse,
Such thoughts are strangers to his noble soule.
King.
No, 'tis too true, I must prevent my danger,
And make the first attempt; there's no such way
To avoyde a blow, as to strike first, and sure.
Ca.
But Sir, I hope my function shall exempt me,
From bearing any part in such designes.
King.
Your function? [Laugh's]
do you thinke that Princes
Will raise such men so neare themselves for nothing?
We but advance you to advance our purposes:
Nay, even in all religions
Their learnedst, and their seeming holiest men, but serve
To worke their masters ends; and varnish o're
Their actions, with some specious pious colour:
No scruples; doo't, or by our holy Prophet,
The death my rage intends to him, is thine.
Ca.
Sir, 'tis your part to will, mine to obey.
King.
Then be wise, and suddaine.
Enter Lords as to Councell. Ab. Mor.
Ca.
My Lords, it grieves me to relate the cause
Of this Assembly; and 'twill grieve you all:
The Prince you know stands high in all those graces
Which Nature, seconded by fortune, gives:
Wisedome he ha's, and to his wisedome courage;
Temper to that, and unto all, successe. But
Ambition, the disease of Vertue, bred
Like surfets from an undigested fulnesse,
Meets death in that which is the meanes of life.
Great Mahomet, to whom our Soveraigne life,
And Empire is most deare, appearing, thus
Advis'd me in a vision: Tell the King,
The Prince his sonne attempts his life and Crowne;
And though no creature lives that more admires
His vertues, nor affects his person more
Then I; yet zeale and duty to my Soveraigne
Have cancel'd all respects, nor must we slight
The Prophets revelations.
Abd.
Remember Sir, he is your sonne,
Indeared to you by a double bond,
As to his King, and father.
And the remembrance of that double bond
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Nature and duty binde him to obedience;
But those being placed in a lower sphere,
His fierce ambition, like the highest mover,
Ha's hurried with a strong impulsive motion
Against their proper course. But since he has forgot
The duty of a sonne, I can forget
The affections of a father.
Abd.
But Sir, in the beginning of diseases
None trye the extreamest remedies.
King.
But when they're suddaine,
The cure must be as quicke; when I'me dead, you'le say
My feares have beene too slow: Treasons are acted
Assoone as thought, though they are ne're beleeved
Untill they come to act.
Mor.
But consider Sir,
The greatnesse of the attempt, the people love him;
The lookers on, and the enquiring vulgar
Will talke themselves to action: thus by avoyding
A danger but suppos'd, you tempt a reall one.
King.
Those Kings whom envy, or the peoples murmure
Deterres from their owne purposes, deserve not,
Nor know not their owne greatnesse,
The peoples murmure, 'tis a sulphurous vapour
Breath'd from the bowels of the basest earth;
And it may soyle, and blast things neare it selfe:
But ere it reach the region we are plac't in,
It vanishes to ayre, we are above
The sence, or danger of such stormes.
Cap.
True Sir, they are but stormes while Royaltie
Stands like a Rocke, and the tumultuous vulgar,
Like billowes rais'd with winde, (that's with opinion)
May roare, and make a noyse, and threaten;
But if they rowle too neare, they're dash't in pieces
While they stand firme.
Abd.
Yet Sir, Crownes are not plac't so high,
But vulgar hands may reach 'em.
King.
Then 'tis when they are plac't on vulgar heads.
Abd.
But Sir,
Looke backe upon your selfe; why should your sonne
Anticipate a hope so neare, so certaine, we may wish and pray
For your long life: But neither prayers nor power
Can alter Fates decree, or Natures Law.
Why should he ravish then that Diadem
From your gray temples, which the hand of time
Must shortly plant on his.
King.
My Lords,
I see you looke upon me as a sunne
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Whose rayes the vapours of approaching night
Have rendred weake and faint: But you shall finde
That I can yet shoot beames, whose heat can melt
The waxen wings of this ambitious boy.
Nor runnes my bloud so cold, nor is my arme
So feeble yet, but he that dares defend him
Shall feele my vengeance, and shall usher me
Into my grave.
Ab.
Sir, we defend him not,
Onely desire to know his crime: 'Tis possible
It may be some mistake, or mis-report,
Some false suggestion, or malicious scandall:
Or if ambition be his fault, 'twas yours,
He had it from you when he had his beeing;
Nor was't his fault, nor yours, for 'tis in Princes
A crime to want it; from a noble spirit
Ambition can no more be separated
Then heat from fire: Or if you feare the vision,
Will you suspect the noble Prince, because
This holy man is troubled in his sleepe,
Because his crazie stomack wants concoction,
And breedes ill fumes; or his melancholy spleene
Sends up fantastick vapours to his braine:
Dreames are but dreames, these causelesse feares become not
Your noble soule.
King.
Who speakes another word
Hath spoke his last: Great Mahomet we thanke thee,
Protector of this Empire, and this life,
Thy cares have met my feares; this on presumptions
Strong and apparent, I have long presag'd,
And though a Prince may punish what he feares,
Without account to any but the Gods;
Wise States as often cuts off ills, that may be,
As those that are; and prevent purposes
Before they come to practise; and foule practises
Before they grow to Act: you cannot but observe
How he dislikes the Court, his rude departure,
His honour from the people and the souldiers,
His seeking to oblige the Turkes his prisoners,
Their sudden and suspected flight:
And above all, his restlesse towring thoughts.
A Horne winded without.
King.
If the businesse be important,
Admit him.
Enter Post with a Letter.
Post.
Sir, upon your late command
To guard the passages, and search all packets,
21
King opens it and reades it to himselfe.
King.
Here Abdall, reade it.
Abdall reades.
The Letter.
Ab.
reades.
Sir, we are assured how unnaturally your fathers intentions
Are towards you, and how cruell towards us; we have
Made an escape, not so much to seeke our owne,
As to be instruments of your safety: We will be
In armes upon the borders, upon your command
Either to seeke danger with you, or to receive you
If you please, to seeke safety with us.
King.
Now my Lords,
Alas my feares are causelesse, and ungrounded
Fantastick dreames, and melancholike fumes
Of crazie stomacks, and distempered braines:
Has this convinc't you?
Mor.
Sir, we see
Some reason you should feare, but whom, we know not;
'Tis possible these Turkes may play the Villaines,
Knowing the Prince, the life of all our hopes,
Staffe of your age, and pillar of your Empire;
And having fail'd by force, may use this Art
To ruine him, and by their treason here
To make their peace at home.
Now should this prove a truth, when he ha's suffred
Death, or disgrace, which are to him the same,
'Twill be too late to say you were mistaken,
And then to cry him mercy: Sir, we beseech you
A while suspend your doome, till time produce
Her wonted off-spring Truth.
King.
And so expecting
The event of what you thinke, shall prove the experiment
Of what I feare; but since he is my sonne,
I cannot have such violent thoughts towards him
As his towards me: he onely shall remaine
A prisoner till his death, or mine enlarge him.
Exit Lords, Man. Haly.
Solyman peepes in.
King.
Away, away, wee're serious.
Sol.
But not so serious to neglect your safety.
King.
Art thou in earnest?
Sol.
Nay Sir, I can be serious aswell as my betters.
King.
What's the matter?
Sol.
No, I am an inconsiderable fellow, and know nothing.
King.
Let's heare that nothing then:
Sol.
The Turkes Sir.
King.
What of them?
Sol.
When they could not overcome you by force, they'le
Doe it by treacherie.
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As how?
Sol.
Nay, I can see as farre into a milstone, as another man.
They have corrupted some ill-affected persons.
King.
What to doe?
Sol.
To nourish Jealousies 'twixt you and your sonne.
King.
My sonne? where is he?
Sol.
They say hee's posting hither.
King.
Haly, we are betrayed, prevented, looke to the Ports, and let
The Guards be doubled: how farre's his Army hence?
Is the Citie in armes to joyne with him?
Sol.
Armes? and joyne with him? I understand you not.
King.
Didst thou not say the Prince was comming?
Sol.
I heard some foolish people say you had sent for
Him, as a Traytor, which to my apprehension was on
Purpose spoken to make you odious, and him desperate;
And so divide the people into faction. A Plot of
Dangerous consequence, as I take it Sir.
King.
And is this all, thou sawcy trifling foole? Away
With him.
Haly.
Sir, this seeming foole is a concealed dangerous knave,
Under that safe disguise he thinks he may say or doe
Anything: you'le little thinke him the chiefe conspirator,
The onely spy t'informe the Prince of all is done in Court.
King.
Let him be rack't and tortur'd, till he confesse
The whole conspiracie.
Sol.
Rack't, and tortur'd? I have told you all I know, and more;
There's nothing more in me Sir, but may be squeezed
Out without racking, onely a stoope or two of Wine;
And if there had not beene too much of that, you had
Not had so much of the other.
King.
That's your cunning, sirrah.
Sol.
Cunning Sir, I am no Polititian; and was ever thought to have
Too little wit, and too much honesty for a States-man.
Exit.
King.
Away with him.
Ha.
But something must be done Sir, to satisfie the people:
'Tis not enough to say he did designe,
Or plot, or thinke, but did attempt some violence,
And then some strange miraculous escape,
For which our Prophet must have publique thankes;
And this false colour shall delude the eyes
Of the amazed vulgar.
King.
'Tis well advis'd.
Enter Mess.
Mess.
Sir, His highnesse is return'd.
King.
And unconstrain'd? But with what change of countenance
Did he receive the message.
Mess.
With some amazement,
But such as sprung from wonder, not from feare,
It was so unexpected.
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Leave us.
Haly, I ever found thee honest; truer to me
Then mine owne bloud, and now's the time to shew it:
For thou art he my love and trust hath chosen
To put in action my designe: surprise him
As he shall passe the Galleries. I'le place
A guard behind the Arras; when thou hast him,
Since blinded with ambition, he did soare
Like a seel'd Dove; his crime shall be his punishment
To be depriv'd of sight, which see perform'd
With a hot steele. Now as thou lov'st my safety
Be resolute, and suddaine.
Ha.
'Tis severe,
But yet I dare not intercede, it shall be done;
But is that word irrevocable?
King.
I, as yeares, or ages past; relent not, if thou do'st
Exit. King.
Enter Mirvan.
Mir.
Why so melancholy? is the designe discovered.
Ha.
No, but I am made the instrument,
That still endeavoured to disguise my plots
With borrowed lookes, and make'em walke in darkenesse,
To act 'em now my selfe; be made the marke
For all the peoples hate, the Princesse curses,
And his sonnes rage, or the old Kings inconstancy,
For this to Tyranny belongs,
To forget service, but remember wrongs.
Mir.
But could not you contrive
Some fine pretence to cast it on some other.
Ha.
No, he dares trust no other; had I given
But the least touch of any private quarrell,
My malice to his sonne, not care of him,
Had then begot this service.
Mir.
'Tis but t'other plot my Lord, you know
The King by other wives had many sonnes
Soffy is but a childe, and you already
Command the Emperours Guard; procure for me
The governement o'th' Citie, when he dies,
Urge how unfortunate those States have beene
Whose Princes are but children: then set the Crowne
Upon some others head, that may acknowledge
And owe the Empire to your gift.
Ha.
It shall be done Abdall, who commands
The Citie, is the Princes friend, and therefore
Must be displac't, and thou shalt straight succeed him.
Thou art my better Genius, honest Mirvan,
Greatnesse we owe to fortune, or to fate,
But wisedome onely can secure that state.
Ex.
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Princesse.
You're double welcome now (my Lord) your comming
Was so unlook't for.
Prince.
To me I'me sure it was;
Know'st thou the cause? for sure it was important,
That calls me backe so suddenly.
Princesse.
I am so ignorant,
I knew not you were sent for.
Waking I know no cause, but in my sleepe
My fancy still presents such dreames, and terrors,
As did Andromache's the night before
Her Hector fell; but sure 'tis more then fancie.
Either our guardian Angels, or the Gods
Inspire us, or some naturall instinct,
Fore-tells approaching dangers.
Prince.
How does my father.
Princesse.
Still talkes and playes with Fatyma, but 'his mirth
Is forc't, and strain'd: In his looke appeares
A wilde distracted fiercenesse, I can reade
Some dreadfull purpose in his face; but where
This dismall cloud will breake, and spend his furie,
I dare not thinke: pray heaven make false his feares.
Sometimes his anger breakes through all disguises,
And spares nor gods, nor men; and then he seemes
Jealous of all the world: suspects, and starts,
And looks behinde him.
Enter Morat, as in haste.
Mor.
Sir, with hazard of my life I've ventur'd
To tell you, you are lost, betray'd, undone;
Rouze up your courage, call up all your counsells,
And thinke on all those stratagems which nature
Keepes ready to encounter sudden dangers.
Prince.
But pray (my Lord) by whom? for what offence?
Mor.
Is it a time for story, when each minute
Begets a thousand dangers? the gods protect you.
Ex.
Prince.
This man was ever honest, and my friend,
And I can see in his amazed looke,
Something of danger; but in act, or thought,
I never did that thing should make me feare it.
Princesse.
Nay good Sir, let not so secure a confidence
Betray you to your ruine.
Prince.
Prethee woman
Keepe to thy selfe thy feares, I cannot know
That there is such a thing; I stand so strong,
Inclosed with a double guard of Vertue,
And Innocence, that I can looke on dangers,
As he that stands upon a Rocke,
Can looke on stormes, and tempests. Feare and guilt
Are the same thing; and when our actions are not,
Our feares are crimes.
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A punishment, then he that guiltlesse feares.
Ex.
Enter Haly, and Torturers.
Ha.
This is the place appointed, assist me courage,
This houre ends all my feares; but pause a while,
Suppose I should discover to the Prince
The whole conspiracie, and so retort it
Upon the King; it were an handsome plot,
But full of difficulties, and uncertaine;
And hee's so fool'd with downe-right honesty,
Hee'le ne're beleeve it; and now it is too late;
The guards are set, and now I heare him comming.
Enter Prince, stumbles at the entrance.
Prince.
'Tis ominous, but I will on; destruction
O'retakes as often those that fly, as those that boldly meet it.
Ha.
By your leave Prince, your father greets you.
Prince.
Unhand me traytors.
[Haly casts a scarfe over his face.]
Ha.
That title is your owne, and we are sent to let you know it.
Is not that the voyce of Haly that thunders in my eares.
Ha.
I, vertuous Prince, I come to make you exercise
One vertue more: your patience.
[Heat the irons quickly.]
Prince.
Insolent villaine, for what cause?
Ha.
Onely to gaze upon a while, untill your eyes are out.
Prince.
O villaine, shall I not see my father?
To aske him what's my crime? who my accusers?
Let me but try if I can wake his pitty
From his Lethargicke sleepe.
Ha.
It must not be Sir.
Prince.
Shall I not see my wife, nor bid farewell
To my deare children?
Ha.
Your pray'rs are all in vaine.
Prince.
Thou shalt have halfe my Empire Haly, let me but
See the Tyrant, that before my eyes are lost
They may dart poys'nous flashes like the Basiliske,
And looke him dead: These eyes that still were open,
Or to fore-see, or to prevent his dangers,
Must they be closed in eternall night?
Cannot his thirst of bloud be satisfied
With any but his owne? And can his tyrannie
Finde out no other object but his sonne?
I seeke not mercy, tell him I desire
To die at once, not to consume an age
In lingring deathes.
Ha.
Our eares are charm'd: Away with him.
Prince.
Can ye behold (ye Gods) a wronged innocent?
Or sleepes your Justice, like my fathers Mercy?
Or are you blinde? as I must be.
Finis Act. Tertii.
| The Sophy | |