University of Virginia Library

Actûs secundi.

Scena quarta.

Enter two Gentlemen, as at the Gates of Hadrainople.
1
Sir, Will you venture?

2
Is not the pressure of this mighty wo
Enough to sink my fainted spirits?
But by your mocks you'l add to it.

1
My high-born Lord,
Let all the Tragick Fancies in the world
Be true in me.
Let sorrow sink between my bone and marrow,
And may all tender souls mock my distress
If I so mean:
I wonder that your Lordship staggers thus.

Lord.
I know thou'rt honest.
How dull thou't seem to be,
To strange that I do stagger?
I am sure the Leaden Clasps of sleep,
That do shut in the Golden Story,
Lock't not thy Pent-houses
But that thou saw this huge ov'r-bearing storm,
And yet do'st talk so strange.

1.
O Sir! When you should make return of praises
To the gods for your deliverance;
Then to precipitate your self in wilful danger:
When an affront of mercy,
And might, deduce the never ended plagues of Heaven,
In showers on your head.

Lord.
Ah Fool! Do'st ask if I will venture,
That nothing have to lose,
Unless this spounk of life, sleighted as much
As she that hangs upon her satiated Lovers neck,
Who loathing would be gone.

Man.
But, dear my Lord,
If that you spurn at mercy, And defie the gods,
They'l draw your loathed thread of life
To Nectars broach,
And add destruction every moment.

Lord.
Away: Thou never readst the maximes of the Wise,
That things at their acquired height descend again:
And when at full perfection,
Do admit no increase.
Sound the unfathom'd Sea of my distress,
Measure the unbounded limits of my sorrow,
My Native Soyl, my dearest Countrey sack't
Our great Imperial, whose reflex
Rival'd the Sun, and shone throughout the Earth,
Lies smother'd in her dust;
And my dearest Friends promiscuously
Lie mangl'd in the forgetful heapes.
Now might I here prick down a period to my woes,
Me thinks I cou'd sustain.
But oh! oh!
I see a raging stream, a mighty floud
Out-bearing all its Banks,
Will quickly steep my patience to a sop:
My Love, do'st think she lives?
Fond, she cannot die:
Her soule's in me, and mine in hers reciprocal:
So while I live, she cannot die;
But I may die in her: but I'm alive,
Therefore she is not dead.
Then I'le go seek her here.
The contaminous Bed of this grim Tyrant
Shall not detain her from me:
And, e're I'le go without her,
I'le leap destruction in the face,
And kiss the Instrument of my decease.

Man.
My Lord, I have flaid your passion,
And now in reason would confer with you;
Strangers we are, and now in this new Conquest
Each eye labours for new discovery:
The Language we are strangers in,
And pregnant Wits will sift us to the bran;
Therefore amongst these rural Hindes
That nothing understand, here in the Suburbs
Let us abide:
Until the pregnant time deliver up the truth.

Lord.
Well, my great desires I'le curb,
And go along with thee!
Thee alone survivour of my friends.

Exeunt both
Enter the Lady and Captain.
Cap.
Madam, I have puzzel'd the Invention of Arithmetick,—
And find the sum of your perfection
Too great for my receipt:
Therefore to them that better can esteem your worth
I'le render you:
For me to accumulate so rich a Jem,
Were for to lame our Princes Victory,
And a disloyal Fact:
So for your greater honour, and mine esteem,
I will present you to him.

Lad.
O Sir, You lame your Victory indeed,
And make a light esteem of it,
In poysing me with it.

Cap.
Lady, 'tis true: the water in its quantity,
Is more then the refined spirits;
Yet that's made up in the surpassive quality of them.
So in my drunk-opinion it doth seem
The extracted purity of all the East,
Is centred in you.
And for to keep you from my Prince, were greater loss
Then our received Alcaron,
The which I'le never do.

Lad.
Sweet Sir, Will you proclaim your errour,
And make (of invalidity) your yet esteem'd opinion,
And make my else unhappy self hated by every one,
What can you think the Victor of the East
That sits Competitor with Phœbus in his glory,
Will be so blinded, to dote upon his slave,
Where there is no allurement,
Vnless his Pallate out of relish,
Imbrace my salted lips for a recovery.
Recal your scattered judgment,
And lose not your esteem.

Cap.
Madam, I am not destitute of sense; nor do I dream:
I'm sure 'tis real that I see;
So if you'l go along with me,
I will present you honourably: if not,
I will declare the Cabin where the Jewel lies,
And let the Emperour pick't himself:
And so farewell.

Lad.
Stay, patience but a while,
Give me but three days space,
And I will strive to stop these nigh exhausted Fountains,
And recollect some smiles, the better to adorn your presentation.

Cap.
So long I wait your leisure, and wish you well advis'd:
So rest you joyful.
Exit Cap.

Lad.
And you the like.
Manet Irene Sola.
When thrice the burning Carbunckle of Heaven
Hath hit upon the insulting Waves,
And when he would hath thrice been
Mantel'd up in Black.
Must I? But oh disloyal thought!
I am glad thou hast met affection,
Whose Loyal Flame, hath to thy primitive
Non-being reducest thee.
If espoused love, my Lord Paleologus,
Hath yet surviv'd the ruines of his Native Soyl,
And should behold me prove inconstant,
How would the sacking of our brave city,
The death of all his Friends, renew themselves
In a more Tragick Scene?
Oh! my Soul! that thou wert here,
That which of us were strongest, might support
The others grief a little.
Well! I do find my exteriour Senses all,
Have a discharge from their great covering soul,
For to suspend their Faculties a while;
Therefore I'le hunt my rest.

Exit.
Enter Mahomet, and his Bashaws, as in open Councel, about settlement of their new Conquests.
Mah.
What think you, Lords,
If we transfer us to Constantinople?

All.
If all things sitted were, we like it well.

Mah.
Your counsel's good:
Besides, our Conquest made more absolute,
From her sweet seated Turrets we may pry
Into the Affairs of Europe, and the bordering Asia,
And sit an Eye-sore to the Christian Foe:
I would it were dispatcht.

1
My gracious Prince, the Leaden foot of Time
Must stamp some dayes upon your back
Ere this can be effected: some great Commander
With a power must here reside,
To snafle the pressing crest of this imperious brood;
And many thing, of great import
Are yet to be resolv'd.

2
'Tis true; therefore, your Majesty must court
Your patience yet a while.

Mah.
To that same purpose came we here
To argue and determine:
But since you are all agreed, that it becomes our State to go,
We do adjourn the Court a while.
And, in the interim, consider of our great Captains to be left behind.

Exeunt omnes.
Enter Demosthenes, the Lord Pæologus his Attendant, as from the city, having been enquiring of the Captives, and the State.
Dem.
My Lord, the tempest's great, where none escapes the Rack,
The Battail's sore, where none survives to give report.
The great revenging hand of Fate
Hath not pursu'd your joyes unto the utmost;
Nor hath the flame of their great rage
Dried all the Fountains of your bliss; One yet remains,
Whose cordial springs will cool, the inraging passions of your bloud,
The fair Irene lives.

Pæo.
How! Hath the intoxing magick of her brow
Conjur'd the influence of her birth?
Hath the impression of her purer spirit statu'd the Fates?
That the stern sword of great Revenge falls down in homage,
Fearing his Name unjustly threatning such.

Dem.
Do you intend to wing't, on your own breath to her?

Pæo.
O that I could but fleet it in the Air a while invisible:
I'de fly aloft above her head, until the neighbouring Air
Fil'd with the sweet perfumes of her,
Like Africk Birds stifl'd me down.

Dem.
My Lord, Aire's but a vapour;
And while you vapour an Addition,
The substance may evapourate.
The well composed Body of your Parliament must act
As well as the Lord Speaker; e're you be better.

Peo.
Act: O! I act Wonders. Nature, and Arts be staires
To my design.

Dem.
Oh Sir!
I dread the Hawking Eye,
Of this imperious Victor;
I doubt some of his fawning Spaniels
Will discover your rich Game.
Which once but raised, I tremble at the event.

Peo.
What if he seiz'd her here below,
The ardent flames of our so chaste desire
Will nuplifie his horny talents so,
That he I surrend his seizen.
And if he sore the Clouds with her
I'le make a Daggers point spur to my soul
To post to him.

Dem.
Let us prevent all this,
And in the Sun-shine make our hay:

Peo.
Come, make hast, I'le be ruld by thee:

Dem.
Then we, disguised as we are,
Will venter through these Gates.
I know her Lodging well;
I, as I am, will go your servant;
And you, for an escaped Brother of hers:
And then when you are each inform'd of others state,
We will consult what best is to be done.

Pæo.
Come in haste.

Dæm.
But I beseech you call home
Your banisht Reason, in this same tickle point.

Pæo.
I will, let's go.

Exeunt.
Enter the Captain to the Lady Irene,
Cap.
Madam,
I hope your wayward thoughts are all remov'd,
And your own inclination, courts you now.

Lady.
Tis true Sir: my thoughts are not the same;
For every minute thoughts do change,
And for my inclination, tis too bashful for to court me.

Cap.
Madam, Weighty Affairs are in transaction,
'Tis not a time to complement:
But briefly to declare; Will you, or will you not?

Enter the Lord Paeologus, and Dæmosthenes to them.
Irene swounds at the approach: he embraces her.
Pæo.
My dearest sister,
Had I but dreamt this unexpected joy,
Would have surpriz'd thee thus,
I had rather chose confinement for the day
Then thou'st beheld me.
She revives.
He lifts her up.
Arise, Sweet-heart let us rejoyce we met.

Dæm.
Brother Tom: Brother Tim.

Aside.
Irene.
My dearest Brother,
How doth the cordial Rayes of thy fraternal love
Restore my yielding spirits?

Dæm.
Sweet Sir, this is the effect of Natures consanguinity,
Make them mistake themselves;
So I presume a Suppliant for them,
That you'l a while withdraw:
That they more freely may converse
Of their great Parents, and their Kindred gone.

Cap.
Sir, Great's the respect I always bear
To spirits so nobly qualified:
Therefore, for me, enjoy thy place,
And freedome at their pleasure.

Dæm.
My Lord,
This worthy Gentleman is well content,
That you more private should discourse your miseries.

Pæo.
We thank you Sir;
And most of this our private conference
Shall be to study a requital,
For your high respects.

Irene.
The freeness of your favours, Sir,
Makes me a sturdy Beggar,
To beg the obliegement of this day:
And if you will, before the Mountain tops
Be beon'd with the Sun,
Shew to the Nighted Vails
The days approach,
I'le smile on your desires.

Cap.
That's laugh at my delay;
But this one night I'le dream away,
And then behold the final issue
In time to be more wise.
Aside.
Madam, the reciprocal regret
I have of all your woes, command me:
And so in expectation take my leave.

Exit.
Pæo.
What hath thy neare exhausted Darts of beauty
Slain the revengeful ire of all grim foes that did approach thee.
Were all the bloody and revengful spirits on earth,
In general randevouz'd, there is such resisted beauty,
Such noble charms of pity in thy look: if shown,
They'd all ashame disperse like heartless Hindes.

Irene.
My noble, and most constant Lord,
I love you more, then I can tell you so:
Nor will I vent Encomiums of your praise,
It were to lame your worth:
For your heroick Actions
Will themselves ingrave perpetual Epitaphs unto your praise:
Let us not stand and muse the fruits the enjoyment brings.
But act and stir to bring the enjoyment,
The state of which is desperate.

Dem.
Fair, and discreet, pull down that Cypress Vail,
And make an Artificial Night:
For madd-men soonest recollect in darkness.

Pæo.
If I am mad, and pulling down that vail, make night,
O that I might within that shade, Her Arms the chains,
Lie Bedlam'd up for ever.
Prethee Demosthenes act for me now, and when I have injoyd her,
I shall be capable to thank thee.

Dem.
Well then: to morrow she must give her full resolve;
And as for me, I think it meet, she should most chearfully
Present her self unto the Emperour.
In all obedience to his will, let her prolong his enjoyment
Of her, so long as possibly she can. Mean time, you and I
Will wander into Hungary: I know you'l find acceptance
Correspondent to your port; because you are like Enemies
Unto the common foe. Nor do I doubt but your indowments
Will accumulate a mass of friends.
Then in prefixed time, with a strong guard in Turkish habit,
You may so nigh, as possibly you can, approach this City,
Where she, in her disportive liberty, taking the Air
At the appointed place may be surpriz'd; and carried successfully:
All which I wish perform'd.

Pæo.
O would it prove so!
I wou'd joyfully take farewel of that lip,
And fancy, that mine own retain'd a remnant
Till I saw her.

Ire.
Honest Demosthenes,
Thou hast declared the likeliest way:
But oh! 'tis straight and rugged
For me poor weak distressed Wretch
To wander in the absence of my Sun:
Thou, thou, my dearest Lord,
O sad! Alas to think! What odious
And derested company, must I be forc't confer with
When you are gone?
How shall I reel 'twixt hope and fear?
And stagger on the Rocks of Despair,
Benighted in calamity and woe.
But longest nights e're now have had their days,
And I in patience will expect the Sun of my prosperity.

Pæo.
Oh! Oh!
Despair prevails; my Infant-hopes lie dying:
My soul of joy, 'tis like to be a tedious night
Before thy Rayes of Beauty, reflex't by me,
Shine forth a morning joy.

Dem.
Sweet Paire,
The sharpest Drugs are of the healthiest operation:
Oft from a cloudy morn,
Ensues a glorious day: Your grief I hope is at the height:
And, in enjoyment, will afford a pleasant Theame
For your Discourse.
See, see, the restless Steeds of Phœbus bright,
Hath quencht their burning thirst in the great Ocean,
And freshly rowes for this days task,
Telling all stoln contents, it's time to part.

Ire.
Like as some beauty, through a mourning Vail,
So seems the Sun muffl'd in yonder Clouds:
My thinks she onely seems a Torch
Prepar'd to attend the Funerals of some mighty man.

Peo.
Thou more contemned Light,
Than is the Dead-mans Torch,
Within the secret Monument! The Sun shines forth,
Which onely lights friends to their last farewell:
I would some new born Phaeton had whipt thee from the Skie
Down to the restless Ocean,
That thy diffused Rayes might there have been exstinguisht:
Then might I here the Prince of pleasure raing'd,
Unenvied 'cause unseen of the malitious world.

Irene.
See poor Demosthenes
Demosthenes with a dejected countenance stands by.
The alone partaker of our griefs,
Surpriz'd with equal passion,
Like us in a Lethargick Muse, forgets the time.

Peo.
Come, come, our fiery passions are too great
To suffer cold Distempers thus to stupifie.

Dem.
Blest be that Reformation,
And collected manhood: take leave in heart,
'Tis farr spent day.

Peo.
Me-thinks the purity of the great Globe
Of Heaven and Earth
He embraces her.
Is circumvented all within mine arms:
Can I from thee, thou Universal Spirit be banisht?
No, the pure refin'd Imaginations of my Spirits,
Will still be active, in creating thee anew.
He kisses her.
Oh! the ravisht pleasure of this Kiss
Makes me despair, the enjoyment is so full, my bliss is at the height:
My Soul farewell.

Dem.
Lady, give me a farewel of your hand,
Kisses her hand.
And Heavens smile on thee.

Iren.
Farewel my Love; farewel my honest friend;
Good Fates prosper your speed.
Exit Pæo. and Dæmo.
Manet Irene: A SONG.
Come in:

Enter one knocking, a Messenger.
Mes.
Save you Madam:
A noble Captain, desirous to accomplish our great triumph,
Hath braz'd your beauty to the Emperour,
Who doth by me his messenger, invite your presence:
And for this purpose, I, with a noble Guard,
Such as become your State attend you.

Irene.
Sir, He takes my beauty at a disadvantage;
For, with some friends, h'as past the time till late last night,
And am not yet accomplisht to see his Majesty.

Mes.
Really Lady, We have command not empty to return.

Irene.
I must, and will obey his Highness commands.

Exit with them.
Enter Mahomet, and the Captains, in private conference.
Mah.
Where had this perfection,
Who not enjoy'd, lames our great Conquest.

Cap.
Dread Sovereign,
I sav'd her from the Embraces of a common slave,
That would have wrested her to his desire:
And prizing her, I found her onely fit for your great self,
And I in duty and obedience, have told your Majesty of her.

Mah.
Thou shalt not lose by't, how ere it hap.

Enter knocking: Enter Messenger with Irene.
Irene.
Great Emperour:
She prostrates her self.
Your Vassal humbly prostrate,
Wa'ts your Highness pleasure.

Mah.
Lady, Great,
Your perfections are too heavenly,
And ill befit to grovel upon Earth:
Be pleased to rise.

Reaches his hand to her.
Irene.
How ere it is my duty, your Greatness
Doth command me.

Mah.
'Tis strange the fatal breath of our great Guns,
Together with the smother'd Air
Of your down tumbling Fabricks,
Should have conceal'd this beauty;
Which if the mighty Globe should crush together
Contains such sacred Rayes, would dart into another world.

Irene.
Most mighty Sir:
The best of my deservings
Have near attain'd the honour of your presence:
What shall I think of this your praise?
It is your Highness pleasure,
With these Hyperbolies to whet your Eloquence on me,
A poor unworthy subject.

Mah.
Madam,
The great distrust you have on me, I value not,
For 'tis a Maxime wise,
To try before you trust:
But the debasing of your self
'Tis petty Blasphemy, and grieves me much:
For know, the pleasures of Court,
With all the best of us you shall command.

Mes.
The Bashaw of Natolia
Enter Mes.
Attends your Majesty.

Mah.
Well! What's his great heart?
But go, I am at leisure.
Exit.
Madam, Your look's so full an Academy,
Where the sweet Discipline, so quaintly is abridg'd;
That in this little gap of time, I flatter
Me a true Proficient.
Me-thinks my unbridled Nature,
Is so sweetly calm'd.
That I could cringe, and bow before a beauty,
And call a moderate blush into this countenance
Which heretofore sparkl'd destruction,
And pursue my Lips into a chirping smile.
To a Gentleman.
Which heretofore mov'd onely in the accents
Of command, and death.
Go hence, prepare fit entertainment for this fair one; set that two of the best and truest Eunuchs attend her pleasure.
Under correction, my beloved,
Kisses her.
I'le exercise before we part.

Irene.
Your Vassal is rejoyc'd in her obedience.
Exit Irene.

Mah.
I find change.
This touch yields greater pleasure
Then if my brows were circumvented
With the Imperial Crown of all the Earth:
Welcome Natolia.

Enter Natolia.
Nato.
Great Sir:
Me-thinks you have forgot Constantinople.

Mah.
Hum: Thou'rt almost turn'd a Prophet:
Why well may I forget that great Imperial now
When that her Crown lies here.
I am sure Hadrianople now
Contains the imperial Mistress of the World:
But quick, assemble our great Councel all,
I will converse of it a while.

Nat.
They'r, in a moment, as one man
Prepar'd, to attend your Excellence:
I will go hasten your commands.
Exit Natolia.

Maho:
Solus.

When the Emperour calls, Enter a Gentleman.
Mes.
I shall, great Sir.

Mes.
Dread Sir, the Royal Court attends you.

Mah.
Are they so soon in full Assembly?

Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
Full half an hour ago, Great Sir:

Mah.
Withdraw:
Enter Irene.
Great places have a Court of trouble,
I must forsake my happiness a while,
I sent to take my leave of you.
Before the Leaden foot of Time
Hath pres't two Glasses forth, I will return,
And here expect you.

Ire.
I will attend your Greatness.

Exeunt.
Enter the great Bashaws in Court.
1.
I wonder of our forward Prince.

2.
He was not wont to do so:
Was there a messenger dispatcht?

3.
Yes: and return'd, and sayes he's coming.

Nat.
I, but that forward man of War
Is stopt with the strong Charms of an alluring Remora:
But soft, he's here.

Enter Mahomet.
Mah.
My trusty Lords, I have loyter'd my ingagement,
And I'm sorry that your expectations will prove fruitless at this time
Through present indisposedness, of my infirmity,
I onely came for to excuse my self,
And to adjourn it till another time,
And till our further order, in your own time, dismiss:
So fare you well.
Exit Mahomet.

All.
Prosperity attend your Majesty.

1.
A Remora in Land Natolia, 'tis strange
Manent Bashaws.
And yet 'tis probable; for the effect is monstrous.

3.
Is't possible the Darts of that blind Boy
That woundeth none, but downy breasted Girles,
And you'r his Muliers, hath pierc't his steely Spirit.

Nat.
I am afraid since the reverberating Harness was hung by,
The weaker Instruments have made impression.

2.
Then we are like to have a crew of mongrel Warriours quickly.

Nat.
Let us depart, to pray for Reformation.

Exeunt omnes.
Enter Mahomet, return'd; as to Irene.
Mah.
Absent, till you are call'd.
To the Attendants.
Madam, Am I not now a full accomplisht Courtier,
That can keep task with time.

Irene.
And have been, since your riper years
Brusht childishness away, I do believe, great Sir,

Mah.
No, fair one,
I was rude as the unbridled Camp;
Stern as the pale Revenge,
Fierce as the god of War:
My Spirits all were lin'd in proof
Impenitrable to remorse.
Witness the ruful Ruines
Of your stately town;
Which destin'd to its fatal period,
Had not the Wit for to present you.
For had the piercing Eloquence of your bright look approacht
My martial senses all, as they do:
Effeminated would have sunk
Below the dreadful Steel;
I should have crept for a revival
In the Lap of Venus.

Irene.
Oh Sir! Had my great Kindred liv'd,
My state and fortunes stood upright,
Which by the Iron hand of War
Is shrunk to nothing, I might in some sort be deserving.

Mah.
Why doest repent, that cannot be recal'd,
Thy slaughtered Kindred? thou rather should'st rejoyce;
For in Exchange the Power of Turky lies at thy command,
And in the liew of thy consumed fortune
The Riches of my Realm, I do estate on thee:
And hence do court, that thou'lt embrace the
Affections of a King;
And guild our Turky with so fair a Queen.

Irene.
This is an indigested Passion (in your Greatness)
Which seen in its own flattering glass
Delights a little;
But lookt on with the piercing Eye of Reason
Proves odiously inform'd:
Then loath'd Hate succeeds, and I with the indelible Characters
Of nere expired infamy,
With wonder hist at, through the World.

Mah.
Sweet Soul:
It's thy Charms that hath surpriz'd me,
I dwell inseparably in thine Arms,
And not give time to Reason to consult with me.
Sweetheart, prepare to yield, and I'le go frame Petitions.

Irene.
Do, good my Lord, and recollect your self,
While, for your good, I am obstinate.

Exeunt at several doors.
Enter three Bashaws.
1.
I wonder what delight
Our Emperour hath found out, that he contemns the Establishment
Of his mighty Conquest.

2.
'Tis certain, that same Remora
That great Natolia spoke of.

1.
And do you think that he's surpriz'd with the soft Charms
Of an effeminating Love?

3.
Why not?
Temptation easily gains on idleness
The nimble courser whiles she sweeps
The Beesom of the yielding Air, rides safe;
But while recourse, she fits pruning on a bow,
Death, from the deadly Level of a Gun, arrests her.

2.
'Tis true, While death and deep destruction
Were his Objects,
He look't unto his safety:
But the sweet Lullabies of an alluring Peace
Hath epileps't his active Spirits,
And keeps him cradl'd in Security.

3.
O that some Enterprise would wait our great Designs,
That with a fearful Larum he might be awak't,
And scar'd to fall asleep again.

1.
O but 'tis dangerous nibling with the couchant Lion.

2.
But soft, I hope I have prophessed:
A Post passes by
See there a Post in haste.

Exeunt.
Enter Mahomet to a Gentleman.
Mah.
Stay, I see News:
Go you, excuse my promise to my Love.

Gent.
'Tis my best honour, to discharge
Your Majesties Commands.

Mah.
What means the bloud
Exit Gent.
To post so from thy face?
As if it rid some deadly
Enter Messenger.
Message to heart.

Mes.
It signifies my deadly Errand:
For know that your neglected Bands
Are a prepared Banquet
For the Birds of prey,
And with their mangled Corps
Manure the Hungarian fields:
Who, proud in tryumph,
Have made a Bone-fire of your Borders.

Mah.
Well! I'le go raise a storm
Shall drive the flame back on their faces.
Away, command Natolia hither:
Go you, bring my sweet Greek:
To a Gent.
What doth the Hungarian Power
Exit.
Consist of?

To another.
Mes.
I judge they'r 20000.
Exit.
With an accomplisht Leader.

Mah.
Fy: they'l be a point so small,
As will not be discern'd by my great Power.
They are too few to satisfie my great Revenge.

Mes.
Great Sir: You'r pleas'd to talk of points,
And they'r a sharp one.

Enter Irene.
Mah.
Withdraw Sir, till you'r call'd.
Withdraws.
Come, come, my Soul, I'le tell thee what;
Although there is some fatal Meteor dropt from the Skie,
That sets great Spirits on burning;
Yet such is the sweet fruits of calm Peace, lent me by thee,
That were there now a shoak,
Wherein the state of all the world contended:
And would my presence dart captivity to all,
I'de not suspend the greater Conquest of thy love
For half an hour.

Irene.
Oh that your Passion should transform your Reason thus,
To dote on me your captive slave;
Who's very Bonds were Honour unto me.

Mah.
Have pity Lady, I am conquer'd,
Shout forth no more denials;
For while you do my thoughts in pleasing doubt,
Make me forget my self?

Irene.
Well! I will leave you now to better company.

Mah.
But not so much desir'd, Natolia;
Exit Irene.
The Body of our Peace,
Enter Natolia.
By the Hungarians, hath receiv'd a wound,
And here hard by the fatal Post. Call him here.

Nat.
What are the forces in Hungary lost?

Enter Post.
Mes.
They are not onely lost, but the insulting Foe
Triumphs o're all the Borders.

Nat.
Great Sir,
This Wound neglected
Festers to your mighty danger.

Mah.
I know 'tis not so great that we should fear;
Nor is't so small, as for to be neglected:
Therefore, forthwith, see that our Councel be assembled.

Nat.
I'le cause them wait your pleasure.

Exit Natolia, and the Emperour.
Enter Irene, and an Eunuch.
Irene.
My trusty Servitour,
'Tis not so much your vowed Order,
Nor the inherent quality of faithfulness
Unto your Queens;
But 'tis the honesty and truth which I discover
In every action of thee,
Which brings me for to discover
The greatest secret of my Soul unto thee.

Eun.
Madam, if ought lie in the compass of my poor power
For to redress, it's done at your command;
And if it do not,
It's lie promiscuously, as in the Grave,
Infolded from the world forever.

Irene.
I have so full a confidence in thee,
I will not seek an Oath to tie thee to't.
Know then, my trusty friend,
I have a noble Lover
Whose constant heart, with mine, reciprocal is plac't:
He Pilgrims now in the Hungarian Court,
Begging assistance of some Martial Spirits,
In stealth with him to approach these walls;
Where I at his appointment,
Under the colour of my private Recreation, in the aire,
At his appointed hour, and place, was for to meet him,
And be convey'd from hence:
He thought your Emperour, as himself,
Would amorously have 'tane delay:
But oh! my woe, 'tis otherwise:
For where Petitions faintly do retire
The greatness of his Power makes way:
Therefore, my honest friend, go find
My Lord Pæologus by name.
Declare my state, which thou right-well do'st know
The time will not permit me write.
Take this, and in Post-haste depart.

Gives him a Purse.
Eu.
Now by the mighty Prophet Mahomet,
The hairy Scalpe of my dead Father,
And by the Emperours Sword,
I'le act with all my Power, and straight about it:
Farewel, good fortune be thy speed.
Exit Eunuch.

Irene.
Alas poor harmless Maid,
The period of thy hopes rely
Manet Irene.
On the successful Journey of a Nobleman:
But soft, here comes the interrupter of my joy.

Mah.
What is Perfection retir'd into Heresie,
Enter Mah.
And leaves the World quite destitute:
My Soul, let me partake.

Irene.
Most Royal Sir,
The best of my Endeavours
Are homage due to you.

Mah.
Tell me, what means thy unmannerly intrusion.

Mes.
Pardon Sir,
Your mighty Council waits your pleasure:
Enter a Mes.
Still these harsh News do mingle with my pleasures:
Aside.
Farewel Heart.

Exeunt both.
Enter the Bashaws, as in Councel.
1.
What do you think, that drunk with bloud,
They desperately reel on us.

2.
My life for't, they'r so flesht;
They'l pay their Nature's Tribute, but feed on us.

3.
Soft: here comes the whining Captive.

Nat.
Alas! I fear the consequence of these bold words.

Aside.
Enter Mahomet, and takes his Seat of State.
Mah.
What think you Lords of this same Scar?
Who's bent to go a Chirurgion for't?

All.
Your Self's the great Physitian.

Mah.
Away: it scarce requires the help of an Apothecary,
And tell you me of it?

All.
But our great Lord:
Your presence will give quicker remedy,
And satisfie your great Revenge the more.

Mah.
Fie, faint Scars, and inconsiderate reply:
Do you not know the petty Conquest of their Nation
Would not acquit the charges of my Train,
Should I go forth?
Away, forth go you:
Prepare sufficient strength;
To a Bashaw.
And let this tinckling News no more trouble my calmed Spirits:
Go all of you, assist in speedy levying of a Power:
Farewell.

Exit Mahomet with his Guard, Manent Bashaws.
1.
Fie, fie,
That the lustful flames of a lascivious Wench,
Should burn the great remembrance of himself to chaff,
Which now is made the sport
Of every vulgar breath.

Soldiers
without,
'Tis true.

2.
And must his awful Harnish hang contemptible in rust:
And must that bloud that hung ov'r Christendom,
Like a Malignant Meteor,
In cankered dust, be food to mothes;
It must not be;

Sold.
Nor shall not be.

3.
What doth deject Natolia so?

Nat.
That which I would, but cannot remedy.

2.
Let us conjoyn in one, and help our selves.

Nat.
Well! 'tis of too great concernment to be rusht into.

All.
I will go wade,

Nat.
And so will we.

Exeunt.
Enter Mahomet to Irene.
Mah.
Come, come, thou Center of my Peace,
Even now while restless Spirits roam the World,
Seeking the noblest bloud,
To ingrave their Characters of fame.
And while the nimble Posts, whip on each other,
With tidings of my danger:
While in thy bosome laid, I joy in peace,
And peacefully enjoy, the fulness of delight:
Which might I but unrival'd still enjoy,
I freely wish this mighty Ball, subverted were to its Original:
But speak my Soul, can'st thou affect?

Irene.
O mighty Sir, to admiration!

Mah.
Nay, rather to fruition,
Which if thou canst, no longer linger our delights,
Here is a pious Mufty, which for the purpose I have brought
To joyn our hands as well as hearts:
Enter a Muftie.
And so infamy of stoln contents, may turn to honourable enjoyment.

Irene.
Oh mighty Sir! since you are serious,
I do beseech you give a precedent of yielding,
By granting me but one Weeks respite,
To beg from our great Deity concurrence to your Yoak:
From under which, till Death, there's no redemption;
And then my untaluted fruits,
With all the best of me reap at your pleasure.

Muf.
Great Emperour,
This her Petition, in honour, cannot be deny'd,

Mah.
Nor any: Even my life lies at her mercy:
I'le go, invoke the Sun to haste,
And check the minutes of their slowness.

Exeunt omnes.
Enter Natolia Solus.—
Oh! How the Bark of Greatness rides on a rotten Cable,
Subject to every flaw of malice,
And impetuous Billow of Rebellion;
Our mighty Prince, but now,
Rid on the neck of an imperial Conquest:
But oh! one fatal change: he's pul'd from thence
By the seducing Charms of whining love;
And, in a probability, of reducement into nothing,
To have his awful Majesty flouted by common slaves.
I wonder that the wheeling Orbis amaz'd
Stopt not their course at this change,
And all the World stand husht in admiration.
Poor, and infatuated Prince:
We told thee, this would rowz thy infatuated spirits,
And who could stand the fierce return of them;
And yet me-thinks, ha's made good use of life
That uses it for to reclaim thee:
Stand loyal heart:
Enter three Bashaws to him.
Welcome Lords,

1.
What solitary Muse possesses thee Natolia?
What hast thou plotted a deliverance?

2.
I rather think he is reciprocal,
And sleeps with drowsie state.

Nat.
I have not slept, nor was my fancy idle,
I have been ruminating this design,
And horrour seizes all my spirits to dream on the attempt.

2.
Natolia, 'tis no disloyalty:
He ha's thrown down his awful Soveraignty,
And dotes to be a Subject.

Nat.
What will you drive at?

3.
Let go the Ruines to the unbridled Souldiers,
Who utterly disdain a Queenly Monarchy;
And if he will not be reclaim'd, divide the Crown amongst us.

Nat.
My very good Lords, and noble Friends,
I know there's none of you, but would embrace his death
Before the name of murderous Traytor;
Which, by this horrid act, will soon grain it self on you and your Posterity.
That should your brackish Cisterns tumble forth Oceans,
It would not wash it off.
There's many ways to be attempted, before we do deflour our Maiden Nation;
With the unmatched stain of Kill-Kings:
And blessed be the Fates, I hope there's one.

1.
I'le know his Errand:
Behold a Post.
Sweet Sir, will your great haste permit you stay,
Enter a Mes in Post.
To tell us what's your haste.

Mes.
My Journey's at an end, since great Natolia's there;
For he, as well as I, may tell the Emperour, that his new Conquests stagger:
And that the Pæloponesian Lords, in general Randevouz, with a great Force,
March to indanger his new Conquests.

Nat.
Post on, declare it to him.

Exit Mes.
2.
This is the utmost period of our expectation,
He'l now awake, or he's quite dead unto himself:
He certainly abhors the Rebellious Greeks so much
That he'l disdain this Saint-like Charm for it.

3.
No: I do rather fear her witching tears will cause remorse,
And they shall have mercy for her sake:
But loe some News!

Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
My Lord Natolia, the Emperour, in haste, requires your presence:
Farewel, my Lord.

Exit Nato.
1.
Even there's the opportunity we wish for:
Manent three Bashaws.
Behold the Captain of the Janisaries, and many Companies with them.

2.
I'le speak to them.
Enter the Janisaries, as with Drums and Colours marching.
Welcome great Captain,
Where tends your march?

Cap.
No march: 'tis not an Age to talk so rufly,
We'l walk unto the Palace:
There to hang up our useless Weapons,
And then return to play.

3.
Away, you'r part of it.
You have not heard the News, the stubborn Greeks,
Our command of the Pæloponesian Lord,
With mighty Force regain our Conquests.

All.
O then for certain, she a Grecian Goddess,
Invoaked by their prayers, for to descend in Charms, upon our Emperors spirits
Come, let us go, and pluck her from his Arms,
And burn her unto ashes; and strew her in the Air
For the enjoyment of the Bawdy Wind.

2.
Nay first behold the effect of this same News upon him.

Cap.
Let it be so; and for this time let us return.

Exeunt Capt. and Janisaries, Manent Bashaws.
Nat.
Well! forthwith we must assembla.

3.
But had you seen what an Assembly here was now,
Enter Nat. to them.
The Janisaries, all in mutinous Arms, going unto the Palace
For fury, we have stopt for present.

Enter Natolia to them.
Nat.
Well! these Tumults will awake him:
And till I see you, farewel.

Exeunt omnes at several doors.
Enter Mahomet to Irene.
Mah.
Harsh News, my Love:
Your unbridled Colts of Greece, not brooking yoak,
Act to disquiet my tranquillity and peace,
And lame the greatness of my dear Enjoyments of thee.
But it shall not be so; thou'st go with me unto the Grecian Empire,
And there be crown'd the Empress of thy Native Soil.

Irene.
No: my dear Lord:
I'le be no Warriour: the iron-side of stern-look't Warriours
Are frightful Objects to my tender sight:
Oh now I hope the horrour of my night is past.

Aside.
Mah.
Thou'st not be troubl'd with them,
The effeminated Court shall wait on thee.

Irene.
But, great my Lord,
If I am found in favour in your sight,
Do not revive my swounded grief,
Not bring the horrid Object
Of my demolisht Countrey in my sight,
For if you do, I am so much Mother,
That you will find your Nuptials
But a patient Funeral:
For these my Eyes, that else would sparkle invitation
Will all be blubber'd up in tears;
And these my silk Embraces
Incenter Melancholy: So that you'l find me
Little to surpass the breathless Corps
That lie in the cold Jaws of Death.

Mah.
The weighty Reasons of so great a Friend
Cannot be gain-said.

Irene.
Oh! Happy now,
Aside.
Thanks, great my Lord,
You know I am still at your desires
When you return.
Thou'lt hardly be so, soon;
For e're the silent time flit by two hours,
I'le be with thee.
I have subdu'd the noble parts of your great Realm,
And now will with my Agent top the extreamer parts.

Exit.
Enter Irene sola.
Now let disloyal mutiny force him from hence,
Or sad destruction's like to seiz on me, poor hopeless Girl;
That have no other Cordial now, but what proceeds from the relentless world:
Oh their inconstant breath must sentence forth my weal or woe:
I'le send to see which turns my Scale;
Go haste, and see the issue of the Court:
Enter an Eunuch.
Return with speed.
Exit Eunuch.
Oh how my poor tossed Soul, flits on the angry surface of Calamity;
And how the restless Waves of my continued grief works in suspense,
'Gainst my poor floating Bark.
I wonder that my Eunuch stayes so long.
Welcome the issue of the business.
Enter the Eunuch.
Now Dear prepare your self to take your last farewel of joy.

Aside.
Eun.
The issue holds you forth a glorious Bride.

Irene.
And art thou sure he's full determin'd for to stay.

Eun.
Yes certainly, and in that full resolve
He hath dismist the grumbling Court, and straight he will be here.
My Lord, my Loyal Lord,
Exit Eun.
My dear Pæologus, did'st thou but know the exigent that I am in?
That wing'd from Hungary, but sad, my now despairing thoughts,
Like my grim Fates, perswade me to my last farewel:
My huge coagulated griefs are far too great
For one days task: for if to morrow
By that the Lamp of Heaven, descend the certain Horizon
If thou, thou Sun of my delight appear not.
I'le croud my self in the dark yauning grave,
And mourn in quiet:
So now Death in his horrid shape appears.

Mah.
Come, come, my Love,
Enter the Emperour.
The flame of my desire
Hath scatter'd into air these interweaving Clouds.

Irene.
Even so I do behold my self:

Mah.
Come, let us talk of our approaching delight,
And so deceive the time.

Irene.
Not so my Lord, for they'r so sweet,
That time would, ravisht, stop to hear them.

Mah.
Still contrary:
Well! You serve to gloss the enjoyment.
Enter a Mes.
What newes?

Mes.
Great Sir, Natolia courts an entrance here without.

Mah.
Natolia may command it; go haste him in:
I wonder what his pregnant Wit doth labour of.

Exit Mes.
Irene.
Well! I'le withdraw my Lord.
Exit Irene.

Mah.
Command thy liberty.
Come on Natolia.
Enter Nato.
Me-thinks thou swels with some great tidings.

Nato.
My mighty Lord,
He falls down.
I am fall'n for your Rise,
Had I disloyally affected renovation,
I might have pearkt the Pinacle of Rule,
And spurn'd you in forgotten dust:
I need not desperately have rifl'd the Lion of his prey,
But slightly couchant, have surpriz'd him:
Pardon my boldness, my passions high
Rains me at pleasure:
Where's that great Spirit, that aw'd the Fates
And cow'd the world?
What is it shrunk in fear,
To hide it self within a Ladies Lap?
Or do you think that the mistaken world
Will attribute this Imperial Conquest unto you?
Who, in your greatest might,
Could not withstand a whining fit of love:
Your new acquired name,
In after-ages shall be raz'd
From dreadful Chronicles,
And register'd in froathy birth of working brains:
And your great Deeds shall be a Winters tale
For downy Boyes, and puny Wenches:
O mighty Prince! I dread the event of this same Lethargie;
For while your charmed senses
Snort in security,
Your active and great Commanders
Plot dreadful actions.
If this that's spoke be kindly taken, 'tis enough:
If not, too much.

Mah.
Unreverend Villain!
Thou hast sufficiently beg'd death.
I could afford to make thee feel I sleep not,
But ancient Love pleads some respect:
Therefore I'le favour thee with Banishment;
From henceforth see my face no more.
Go instantly, Depart the Limits of my Power;
For if thou do'st but stay to bid farewel unto thy friends;
For this neglect, of my command, thou dyest.

Nat.
Great Sir, Let me but stay a day
To pack some things for my relief abroad.

Mah.
No: they may come after you.

Nat.
Then gracious Prince farewel;
I still will wish your Reformation.

Enter the Janisaries, in mutiny towards the Palace.
Exit Nato: and the Emperour.
Enter to them two Bashaws.
All.
Great Lords, we need no longer groan in expectation,
We see the dire Resolve:
The froward fancios of a woman must snafle us:
By the great Mahomet, we will not suffer it:
He's give her up a Sacrifice for our Revenge;
Or we will force her from him.

2.
Are your Resolves no fouler?

All.
By the hairy scalp of our great Fathers
We wish his standing;
And onely hint, to pull this Witching Charm
From his renowned Bosome.

Enter a Gentleman to them.
Gent.
A very lamentable—
Surpriz'd my sight as I came here,
That mighty man of war Natolia,
Driv'd by the gusts of his own sighs,
Sail'd in the brackish Sea of's own Creation from Turky.

1.
From Turkie declare the ænigma.

Gent.
Banish't, I mean.

All.
The great Natolia banish't?
Go Sir, we beg,
To an Officer.
And tell the Emperour, that we in arms
Attend his presence at the Palace Gates,
And needs must see him.
Declare the manner, Sir:
Exit a Gent.
For what!

Gent.
The zeal of Loyal Love
Emboldened him, to tell the Emperour of his state:
But the bewitching flames of Lust
Burned all his weighty Reasons into chalk,
Which with his Self must, banisht, roam the World.

All.
Fie on't, there's not a head in Turkie
Fixt so sure, which reels not with a sigh
Of this same idle Whore:
Come, let us antidote this poyson.

Exeunt omnes to the Palace.
Enter the Messenger to Mahomet.
Gent.
Great Emperour,
The troubled Janisaries all in Arms
Attend your presence at the Palace Gates.

Mah.
What means the unwarranted Assembly of them?
Well! I'le go to them.

Exit Mahomet with his Guard.
Enter Souldiers, as before the Palace.
All.
Well! did he know he kist his last,
And courted his farewel:
He'd tire our expectation:
But soft! he mounts the Battlement.

Enter Mahomet, as on the Wall.
Mah.
How now! What mean these postures
Of Disloyalty and Treason?

All.
What mean these curl'd D'angles and Perfumes,
They speak some odoriferous Sacrifice, and must not be in vain:
Bring forth that Witch-like Saint,
That with her Charms poysons thy bloud:
We'l loose thee from Inchantments,
By the destroying her.

Mah.
Imperious Villains! for the best life that breathes amongst you,
By your base soultry breath stain her perfection:
Slaves, what hath she done deserves it?
Must she be murdered 'cause I love her?

All.
She hath fetter'd your heroick spirits,
Imprison'd your freedome,
And even reduc't you to a sluggish carelesness;
Caus'd brave Natolia's banishment,
Because he sought for to reclaim you.

Mah.
'Tis false:
She never knew the Conference as yet;
Much less his Banishment:
'Twas his unreveren'd impudence that causd it.

All.
It was no impudence, great Sir:
'Twas his zeal of love,
Ingratefully rewarded,
Caus'd through respect of her.
This day shall see the dissolution of her, and her Inchantments.
We know we shall be thankt,
When you become your self:
Therefore pardon our rudeness.

Mah.
Patience, I'le send for her:
They offer violence to the Gates.
Ah! ah! pure innocence;
Why doth not every thing that pleads
To a Gent. Go fetch my Love unto her Funeral.
Non-guilty,
Appear like Espine Plants,
Exit a Gent.
While their great Queen ascends her direful Scaffold:
Me-thinks that mighty Rouf an Embleme of her,
Should crush together,
With destruction on her Foes: But soft! she's yonder!
Oh how all murderous thoughts
Creep back with fear at her approach.

Enter Irene.
Irene.
What will my mighty Lord?

Mah.
The preservation of thy life.

Irene.
Do's any covet an improfitable Clod?

Mah.
Oh! oh! my Soul.
Sad Funerals still succeed a Nuptial Dream:
Thou harmlesly enjoy'd the Wedlock thoughts of pleasure,
While sullain Brains bring Death to be thy Bridegroom:
Look o're and see the Dogs of Death,
That do pursue so sweet a Game.

She lookes o're.
All.
Oh gilt-temptation!

Irene.
Oh Fates! Is my weak Limbes
A subject for your great Revenge?
Well! well! my colour's past; my period draws fast on,
And I must down to dust
And loathsomness, return to a none-being.
Great Sir! Who's my prepared Butcher?

Mah.
Thy Butcher:
That word murders my Soul-deep perplexity;
I'le speak to them again.
Inhumane Wretches! On your allegeance pass: let her alone,
I'le stop the gap, betwixt her, and your base Revenge.

All.
Mad men must be madly dealt with.

Mah.
Stop your unreverend proceedings,
They rush open the Gates, part enter, with swords drawn.
She's not for common Butchers:
This my own hand shall give inlargement to her Soul,
To tower the Heavens to invoke revenge upon your murd'rous heads.

Irene.
All aside.

Mah.
Not once farewel to me, my Soul,
She swounds.
Farewel to thee:
O had thou but look't,
I never could have struck this fatal blow.

All.
To armies, our
Emperor is himself, with his Falchion sovers head and body.

Mah.
O damnation Villains,
I am my self indeed:
For you have rifl'd me of the sweet addition,
And now in all my self,
I cannot find one thought of comfort,
For to please my self.
Well! Revenge and Fury be my Conducts now;
I'le send the Royal Spirits of slaughtered Princes to attend her.
Bring in that great perfection,
That such honour may be laid in dust.
Exit Mah.

Then exeunt omnes.
Then enter with the Corps; as to them a Gentleman.
Gent.
Shines not the fair Irene here.

One.
She did of late:
But Death defac't that beauty now,
Behold her breathless Corps,
By her pure Spirits forsaken—born there.

Gent.
I beseech you Sir, the fatal Story.

The other.
The great content the Emperour took in her,
Made him lay by the great Affairs of State to court her:
At which the imperious Souldiers high incens't,
Forc't his unwilling hand to part her head and body.

Gen.
Were they married?

The oth.
Oh no! she kept aloufe:
But should the morrow been a Royal Bride.

Gent.
Oh sad! my Errand's done:
I an unwelcome messenger must now return,
Farewel, sweet Sir.

Exit.
Enter the Lord Pæologus, at the appointed place before the Walls.
Pæo.
I wonder our dull Post exceeds the lazie time,
I am wearied with the tosses of this tedious night,
And fain would see my Sun.

1.
I do discover one.

2.
Soft! it bears resemblance of our expectation.

3.
'Tis certain none but he.

Dæm.
Hum! Me-thinks his looks speak horrible destruction.

Pæo.
Oh! and alass!
Enter Gent.
What mean these News?
That toss thy tongue from Order,
And shakes the frame of thy composed Spirits:
Oh dread! I need not bid thee speak;
I read me sensless in thy look;
Yet of the manner give me satisfaction.

Gent.
The pure Soul of fair Irene,
Hath now acquir'd its proper Center.

Pæo.
He with a Dagger stabs himself.

Dyes.
1.
Oh doleful Tragedy!
I did not dream this point.

2.
I wonder where unseen
He wore the fatal Steel.

Dæm.
I was inseparable in life,
And will not be disjoyn'd in death.
Oh! oh!

He stretches himself close down by the Corps, and with the same Dagger kills himself.
All.
Oh! Loyal Servant!
Dyes.
This is a Spectacle of like Woe
To that of Juliet, and her Romeo.

Exeunt omnes.