University of Virginia Library

Act the Second

Scene the First.

The Scene opened, is represented the Prospect of a large River, with a glorious Fleet of Ships, supposed to be the Navy of Muly Hamet, after the Sound of Trumpets and the Discharging of Guns.
Enter King, Young Queen, Hametalhaz and Attendants.
Hamet.
Great Sir, Your Royal Fathers General
Prince Muly Hamet's Fleet does homewards sail,
And in a solemn and triumphant Pride
Their Course up the great River Tensift guide,
Whose gilded Currents do new Glories take
From the Reflection his bright Streamers make:
The Waves a Masque of Martial Pageants yield,
A flying Army on a floating Field.
Order and Harmony in each appear,
Their lofty Bulks the foaming Billows bear.
In state they move, and on the Waves rebound,
As if they danc'd to their own Trumpets sound:
By Winds inspired, with lively Grace they roul
As if that Breath and motion lent a Soul.
And with that Soul, they seem taught Duty too,
Their Topsails lowr'd, their Heads with Reverence bow;
As if they would their Generals Worth enhance,
From him, by instinct, taught Allegiance.
Whilst the loud Cannons eccho to the shore,
Their flaming Breaths salute You Emperour.
From their deep Mouths he does your Glory sing:
With Thunder, and with Light'ning, greets his King.
Thus to express his Joys, in a loud Quire
And Consort of wing'd Messengers of fire
He has his Tribute sent, and Homage given,
As men in Incense send up Vows to Heaven.

Enter Muly Hamet and Abdelcador, Attended, introduced with a Flourish of Trumpets: Muly Hamet kneels to the King.
King.
Welcome true owner of that Fame you bring,
A Conquerour is a Guardian to a King.
Conquest and Monarchy consistent are;
'Tis Victory secures those Crowns we wear.

Muly Hamet.
In all that Sword you lent me has subdu'd,
I only, Sir, my Duty have pursu'd:
And acts of Duty merit no applause,
I owe my Lawrels to my Royal Cause.
My Actions all are on your Name enroll'd,
Since 'tis from you my Conqu'ring Pow'r I hold.

Hametal.
But in Morocco his high Pride may find
His Name less glorious, and his Stars less kind.

[aside.
Muly Hamet.
Sir, your victorious Arms are doub'ly crown'd,
On Sea and Land the same success have found:
When first our greeting Navies did salute,
And in the rage of Flames our Cause dispute:
The Trains of Fire our fatal Guns did make
Did the fierce shape of blazing Comets take:
Our meeting Heat such fury did contract,
That Comets can but threaten what we act.
But when the Day had a spectatour been,
And the whole Progress of this Parley seen,
Led by your Genius, fate their Side forsook,
Some of their Ships I sunk, and some I took.
But when the interposing shades of Night
Assisted them in their disorder'd flight,
I made their Fleet to Conquest light my way,
With burning Ships made Beacons on the Sea.

King.
Kind Fate, in giving you so great Success,
Could scarce grant more, nor did You merit less.

Muly H.
Their Arms who have at Sea victorious been,
Do but the Out-works of an Empire win.
Then to compleat, what on the Sea before
I'd but begun, I landed on their Shore.

Abdelc.
Saphee and Salli, Mugadore, Oran,
The fam'd Arzille, Alcazer, Tituan,
Which the Usurper Gayland's Pow'r possest,
Those his Sword conquer'd, and his Fame the rest:
For the less Cities at his Names surprise,
Yielding made Crowds of bloodless Victories.
Your Arms against your Foes so much have done,
They feel the Heat though the fierce Fire be gone.

Muly H.
And now—
Hearing whose Force Morocco will invade,
I have brought home your Army to your aid.

Y. Q.
Valour and Fate such just success allow,
As firmly place the Laurel on your Brow,
Whose very Looks so much your Foes surprise,
That You, like Beauty, conquer with your Eies.
But, Muly Hamet, now your Sword must be
Imploy'd in a more Cruel Victory;
Against Invaders You your Force must lead,
And meet my Father in an Army's Head:
But the rough hand of War more gentle make,
And spare His Blood for His Morena's sake.

Muly H.
We only do aspire to this great end,
To make your Father not our Prize, but Friend.

King.
Should Fortune Crown our Forces with Success,
Our Arms, though Conqu'ring, shall not make him less.

Enter Mariamne, attended.
Muly H.
Now I'm a Conquerour, Mariamne's Name alone
Has Triumph in't; I from this hour am made
Greater than if I wore those Crowns I won;
My Laurels too without your Beams would fade.

Mariam.
If Mariamnes Eies, Great Sir, can give
Your Laurels Life, she grants them leave to live.

Muly H.
Oh my full Joys!

Mariam.
I come, as one of the Admiring Crowd,
To welcom Him whose Actions speak so loud.

Muly H.
Madam, my Deeds can reach no higher Fame,
Than that your pretious Breath gives 'em a Name.

Mar.
No doubt but War and the harsh sound of Arms
Has from your Bosome chas'd Loves softer Charms:
Your Thoughts, accustom'd now to Martial Toils,
Court only Honour, drest in savage Spoils.

Muly H.
No, Madam, War has taught my Hands to aime
At Glory, to deserve a Lovers Name;
Since my Ambition has your Heart pursu'd,
I Conquer Crowns to make my Title good:
Whose narrow Thoughts to lesser Objects move;
His Soul wants Room to entertain your Love.

King.
Sir, to requite you with a Crown would be
Too mean Reward, Crowns you've bestow'd on me:
To speak my Thanks and Gratitude more large,
That vaster Debt I owe She shall discharge.
To pay what so much Merit does require,
I do command you love, where I admire.

[to Mariamne.
Muly H.
Though Mariamne's Love appear'd before
The highest Happiness Fate had in store,
Yet when I view it, as an Offering
Made by the Hand of an obliging King,
It takes new Charms, looks brighter, lends new Heat.
No Objects are so Glorious or so Great,
But what may still a Greater Form put on,
As Optick Glasses magnifie the Sun.

Enter Crimalhaz, Shouts within.
Crim.
Your Subjects wait with eager joys to pay
Their Tribute to your Coronation Day.

King.
You are arrived a welcom Guest, to share
Those Ceremonies which their Joys prepare;
[to Muly Hamet.
Your Presence to their solemn Rites will grant
That Ornament which this days Triumphs want:
What more could their impatient Wishes meet,
Then in one day a King and Conquerour greet?
Whilst they behold triumphant on one Throne
The Wearer and Defender of a Crown.
Lead on—

Muly H.
Lead on, and all that kneel to you,
Shall bow to me. This Conquest makes it due.

[to Mariamne.
Exeunt all but Chrimalhaz.
Crim.
Dull Souldier, in thy Victories go on,
And live to see me wear the Crowns you won.
Let Cowards to their Fathers Thrones advance,
Be Great and Powerful by Inheritance.
No Laurels by descent my Brow adorn;
But what gains Crowns I am to Courage born,
Ambition is the rise of Souls, like mine.
Those Wreaths my Birth does want, my Brain shall win.
They in advance to Greatness glorious prove,
Who out of the dull track of Birth-right move.
Birth-right, the Prop of an unpurchas'd Name,
A weak Alliance to an elder Fame.
No Glory by Descent is never worn;
Men are to Worth and Honour Rais'd, not Born.

Exit.
The Scene opened.
A State is presented, the King, Queen and Mariamne seated Muly Hamet, Abdelcador and Attendants, a Moorish Dance is presented by Moors in several Habits, who bring in an artificial Palm-tree, about which they dance to several antick Instruments of Musick; in the intervals of the Dance, this Song is sung by a Moorish Priest and two Moorish Women; the Chorus of it being performed by all the Moors.
Moorish Priest, Moorish Women, Chorus of Moors
Chorus.

After the Dance.
King.
They have paid theirs, now I my Debts will pay,
Sir, the next Sun shall see your Nuptial day.
We, who would best great Services requite,
Do first our Friendships, then our Bloods unite:
And that your Hands more solemnly may joine,
Our Royal Mothers Gift shall second mine.

Y. Queen.
Her gentle Breath already, from just Fame,
Has kindly entertain'd your Glorious Name;
And in that Dress, You, as a Conqu'rour, may
To Her a more than welcome Visit pay.

King.
But since the Sorrows of the Mourning Queen,
For our late Father, make Her keep unseen,
Let this conduct you.

[Gives him a Ring.
Muly H.
I am here more blest—
Than if I an Imperial Seat possest.
Whilst in your Breast an Empire I obtain,
[to Mariamne.
Not only Kings, but Gods unenvied reign.
Beauty would almost Infidels create,
Who, beyond Love, can wish a higher state?

Exeunt all but Abdelcador.
Abdelc.
Oh Charming Sex!—
How vast a Circle does thy Magick take?
The highest Spirits humblest Lovers make.
All that Heroick Greatness, which but now
Made haughty Foes and stubborn Nations bow,
Turns Vassal to a Smile, a Looks disguise:
Who conquer Thousands are one Womans Prize.
Fate sets Commanding Beauty in their way,
Beauty that has more God-like Pow'r than they:
Love o're the Hearts of yielding Heroes sports;
Who're Conquerours in Camps, are Slaves in Courts.

Exit.