Revenge For Honour | ||
40
Actus Quartus.
Scena 1.
Enter Almanzor, Abilqualit, Tarifa and Mura.Al.
No more Tarifa, you'l provoke our anger,
if you appear in this cause so solicitous,
the act is too apparent: nor shal you
need (injur'd Mura) to implore our justice,
which with impartial doome shall fal on him
more rigorously, then on a strange offender.
O Abilqualit, (for the name of Son,
when thou forsookst thy native virtue, left thee;)
Were all thy blood, thy youth and fortunes glories
of no more value, then to be expos'd
to ruine for one vice; at whose name only
the furies start, and bashful fronted justice
hides her amaz'd head? But it is now bootless
to shew a fathers pitie, in my grief
for thy amiss. As I'me to be thy Judg,
be resolute, I'll take as little notice,
thou art my off-spring, as the wandring clouds
do of the showers, which when they've bred to ripenesse,
they straight disperse through the vast earth forgotten.
Abil.
I'me sorrie Sir, that my unhappie chance
should draw your anger on me; my long silence
declares I have on that excelling sweetnesse,
that unexampled pattern of chast goodnesse; Caropia acted
violence. I confess,
I lov'd the Ladie, and when no perswasions
serv'd to prevail on her, too stubborn, incenss'd,
by force I sought my purpose and obtain'd it;
nor do I yet (so much I prize the sweetnesse
of that unvalued purchase) find repentance
in any abject thought; what ere fals on me
from your sterne rigor in a cause so precious,
wil be a pleasing punishment.
Al.
You are grown
a glorious malefactor, that dare brave thus
the awful rod of justice! Lost young man,
for thou'rt no child of mine, dost not consider
to what a state of desperate destruction
thy wild lust has betrai'd thee! What rich blessings
41
by showing thee thy suffering) hast thou lost
by thy irregular folly! First my love,
which never more must meet thee, scarce in pitie;
the glorie flowing from thy former actions
stopt up for ever; and those lustful eies,
by whose deprival (thou'rt depriv'd of being
capable of this Empire) to the law,
which wil exact them, forfeited. Cal in there
a Surgeon, and our Mutts to execute this act
Enter Surg. Muts.
of justice on the unworthie traitor, upon whom
my just wak'd wrath shall have no more compassion,
then the incens'd flames have on perishing wretches
that wilfully leap into them.
Tar.
O my Lord,
that which on others would be fitting justice,
on him your hopeful though offending son,
wil be exemplar crueltie; his youth Sir,
that hath abounded with so many vertues,
is an excuse sufficient for one vice:
he is not yours only, hee's your Empires,
destin'd by nature and successions priviledg,
when you in peace are shrowded in your marble,
to weild this Scepter after you. O do not,
by putting out his eies, deprive your Subjects
of light, and leave them to dul mournful darknesse.
Al.
'Tis but in vain, I am inexorable.
If those on which his eyes hang, were my heart strings,
I'de cut them out rather then wound my Justice;
nor dos't befit thy vertue intercede
for him in this cause horrid and prodigious;
the crime 'gainst me was acted; 'twas a rape
upon my honour, more then on her whitenesse;
his was from mine derivative, as each stream
is from its spring; so that he has polluted
by his foul fact, my fame, my truth, my goodnesse,
strucken through my dignitie by his violence:
nay, started in their peaceful urnes, the ashes
of all my glorious Ancestors; defil'd
the memorie of their stil descendent vertues;
nay with a killing frost, nipt the fair blossomes,
that did presage such goodly fruit arising
from his own hopeful youth.
Mur.
I ask but justice;
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tis fit should suffer for't a lasting blindnesse;
the Sun himself, when he darts rayes lascivious,
such as ingender by too piercing fervence
intemperate and infectious heats, straight wears
obscuritie from the clouds his own beams raises.
I have been your Souldier Sir, and fought your battails;
for all my services, I beg but justice,
which is the Subjects best prerogative,
the Princes greatest attribute; and for a fact,
then which, none can be held more black and hideous,
which has betrai'd to an eclipse the brightest
star in th'heaven of vertues: the just law
does for't ordain a punishment, which I hope
you the laws righteous guider, wil according
to equitie see executed.
Tar.
Why! that law
was only made for common malefactors,
but has no force to extend unto the Prince,
to whom the law it self must become subject.
This hopeful Prince, look on him, great Almanzor;
and in his eyes, those volumes of all graces,
which you like erring Meteors would extinguish:
read your own lively figure, the best storie
of your youths noblest vigor; let not wrath (Sir)
o'recome your pietie, nay your humane pity.
'Tis in your brest, my Lord, yet to shew mercie;
that precious attribute of heavens true goodnesse,
even to your self, your son! me thinks that name
should have a power to interdict your Justice
in its too rigorous progress.
Abil.
Dear Tarifa,
I'me more afflicted at the intercessions,
then at the view of my approaching torments,
which I wil meet with fortitude and boldness,
too base to shake now at one personal danger,
when I've incountred thousand perils fearless;
Nor do I blame my gracious fathers Justice,
though it precede his nature. I'ld not have him
(for my sake) forfeit that for which hee's famous,
his uncorrupted equitie, nor repine
I at my destinie; my eies have had
delights sufficient in Caropia's beauties,
to serve my thoughts for after contemplations;
43
since they can ne're hope to incounter any
of equal worth and sweetness.
Yet hark Tarifa, to thy secresie
I wil impart my dearest, inmost counsels;
if I should perish, as 'tis probable
I may, under the hands of these tormentors;
thou maist unto succession show my innocence;
Caropia yeilded without least constraint,
and I injoy'd her freely.
Tar.
How my Lord?
Abil.
No words on't,
as you respect my honour! I'ld not lose
the glorie I shall gain by these my sufferings;
come grim fures, and execute your office. I wil stand you,
unmov'd as hills at whirlewinds, and amidst
the torments you inflict, retain my courage.
Al.
Be speedie villaines.
Tar.
O stay your cruel hands,
you dumb ministers of injur'd Justice,
and let me speak his innocence ere you further
afflict his precious eye-sight.
Al.
What does this mean, Tarifa!
Tar.
O my Lord,
the too much braverie of the Princes spirit
'tis has undone his fame, and pul'd upon him
this fatal punishment; 'twas but to save
the Ladies honour, that he has assum'd
her rape upon him, when with her consent
the deed of shame was acted.
Mur.
Tis his fears
makes him traduce her innocence: he who did not
stick to commit a riot on her person,
can make no conscience to destroy her fame
by his untrue suggestions.
Al.
'Tis a basenesse
beyond thy other villanie (had shee yeilded,)
thus to betraie for transitorie torture,
her honour, which thou wert ingag'd to safeguard
even with thy life. A son of mine could never
show this ignoble cowardize: Proceed
to execution, I'll not hear him speak,
he is made up of treacheries and falshoods.
Tar.
Wil you then
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just now he did confess his only motive
to undergoe this torment, was to save
Caropia's honour blameless.
Abil.
I am more troubled
Sir, with his untimely frenzie,
then with my punishment; his too much love
to me, has spoild his temperate reason. I
confess Caropia yeilded! Not the light
is half so innocent as her spotlesse virtue.
'Twas not wel done, Tarifa, to betray
the secret of your friend thus, though Shee yeilded:
the terror of ten thousand deaths shall never
force me to confess it.
Tar.
Agen, my Lord, even now
he does confess, she yeilded, and protests
that death shall never make him say shee's guiltie:
the breath scarce pass'd his lips yet.
Abil.
Haplesse man,
to run into this lunacie!
Fie Tarifa,
so treacherous to your Friend!
Tar.
Agen, agen.
Wil no man give me credit?
Enter Abrahen.
Abr.
Where is our roial father? where our brother?
As you respect your life and Empires safetie,
dismiss these tyrannous instruments of death
and crueltie unexemplified. O Brother,
that I should ever live to enjoy my eie-sight,
and see one halfe uf your dear lights indanger'd.
My Lord, you've done an act, which my just fears
tels me, wil shake your Scepter! O for heavens sake,
look to your future safetie; the rough Souldier
hearing their much lov'd General, My good Brother
was by the law betrai'd to some sad danger,
have in their pietie beset the pallace;
think on some means to appease them, ere their furie
grow to its ful unbridled height; they threaten
your life, great Sir: pray send my brother to them,
his sight can only pacifie them.
Al.
Have you your Champions!
We wil prevent their insolence, you shal not
boast, you have got the Empire by our ruine.
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Abr.
Avert
such a prodigious mischief, heaven, Hark, hark
Enter, Enter.
they're entred into th'Court; desist you monsters,
my life shal stand betwixt his and this violence,
or I with him wil perish. Faithful Souldiers,
hast to defend your Prince, curse on your slowness.
Hee's dead; my fathers turn is next. O horror,
would I might sink into forgetfulnesse!
What has your furie urg'd you to?
Al.
To that
which whoso murmurs at, is a faithlesse traitor
Enter Simanthes?
to our tranquilitie. Now Sir, your business,
Sim.
My Lord, the Citie
is up in arms, in rescue of the Prince;
the whole Court throngs with Souldiers.
Al.
'Twas high time
to cut this viper off, that would have eat his passage
through our very bowels to our Empire.
Nay, we wil stand their furies, and with terror
of Majestie strike dead these insurrections.
Enter Souldiers.
Traitors, what means this violence?
Abr.
O dear Souldiers,
your honest love's in vain; my Brother's dead,
strangled by great Almanzor's dire command,
ere your arrival. I do hope they'l kill him
in their hot zeal.
Al.
Why do you stare so, traitors?
'twas I your Emp'ror that have done this act,
which who repines at, treads the self same steps
of death that he has done. Withdraw and leave us,
wee'ld be alone. No motion! Are you statues?
Stay you, Tarifa here. For your part, Mura,
you cannot now complain but you have justice;
so quit our presence.
Os.
Faces about, Gentlemen.
Exeunt.
Abr.
It has happ'ned
above our wishes, we shall have no need now
to imploy your handkercher. Yet give it me.
You'r sure 'tis right, Simanthes.
Al.
Tarifa,
I know the love thou bearst Prince Abilqualit
makes thy big heart swell as't had drunk the fome
of angry Dragons. Speak thy free intentions,
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Tar.
No: You're a Tyrant,
one that delights to feed on your own bowels,
and were not worthie of a Son so vertuous.
Now you have tane his, add to your injustice,
and take Tarifa's life, who in his death,
should it come flying on the wings of torments,
would speak it out as an apparant truth:
the Prince to me declar'd his innocence,
and that Caropia yeelded.
Al.
Rise Tarifa;
we do command thee, rise: a sudden chilnesse,
such as the hand of winter casts on brooks,
thrils our ag'd heart. I'll not have thee ingross
sorrow alone for Abilqualit's death:
I lov'd the boy well, and though his ambition
and popularitie did make him dangerous,
I do repent my furie, and will vie
with thee in sorrow. How he makes death lovely!
Shall we fix here, and weep till we be statues?
Tar.
Til we grow stiff as the cold Alablasters
must be erected over us. Your rashnesse
has rob'd the Empire of the greatest hope
it ere shall boast agen. Would I were ashes.
Al.
He breathes (me thinks:) the over-hastie soul
was too discourteous to forsake so fair
a lodging, without taking solemn leave
first of the owner. Ha, his handkercher!
Thou'rt lib'ral to thy Father even in death,
leav'st him a legacie to drie his tears,
which are too slow; they should create a deluge.
O my dear Abilqualit!
Tar.
You exceed now
as much in grief as you did then in rage,
One drop of this pious paternal softnesse
had ransom'd him from ruine. Dear Sir, rise:
my grief's divided, and I know not whether
I should lament you living, or him dead.
Good Sir, erect your looks. Not stir! His sorrow
makes him insensible. Ha, there's no motion
left in his vital spirits: The excesse
of grief has stifled up his pow'rs, and crack'd
(I fear) his ag'd hearts cordage. Help, the Emperor,
he Emperor's dead; Help, help.
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Abr.
What dismal outcrie's this?
our royal father dead! The handkercher has wrought I see.
Tar.
Yes; his big heart
vanquish'd with sorrow, that in's violent rage,
he doom'd his much lov'd son to timeless death,
could not endure longer on its weak strings,
but crack'd with weight of sorrow. Their two spirits,
by this, are met in their delightful passage
to the blest shades; we in our tears are bound
to cal you our dread Soveraign.
Omnes.
Long live Abrahen
Great Caliph of Arabia.
Abr.
'Tis a title
we cannot covet, Lords, it comes attended
with so great cares and troubles, that our youth
start at the thought of them, even in our sorrows
which are so mightie on us; our weak spirits
are readie to relinquish the possession
they've of mortalitie, and take swift flight
after our roial friends. Simanthes, be it
your charge to see all fitting preparation
provided for the funerals.
Enter Selinthus.
Sel.
Where's great Almanzor?
Abr.
O Selinthus, this
day is the hour of funerals grief; for his
crueltie to my brother, has translated
him to immortalitie.
Sel.
Hee'll have attendants
to wait on him to our great prophets paradise,
ere he be readie for his grave. The Souldiers
all mad with rage for the Princes slaughter,
have vow'd by all oaths Souldiers can invent,
(and that's no smal store) with death and destruction
to pursue sullen Mura.
Abr.
Tarifa,
use your authoritie to keep their violence
in due obedience. We're so fraught with grief,
we have no room for any other passion
in our distracted bosome. Take these roial bodies
and place them on that couch; here where they fell,
they shal be imbalm'd. Yet put them out of our sight,
their veiws draw fresh drops from our heart.
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Subject.
a Shout.
Omnes.
Long live Abrahen, great Caliph of Arabia.
Exeunt
Abr.
And who can say now, Abrahen is a villain?
I am saluted King with acclamations
that deaf the Heavens to hear, with as much joy
as if I had atchiev'd this Scepter by
means fair and vertuous. 'Twas this handkercher
that did to death Almanzor; so infected,
its least insensible vapour has full power;
apply'd to th'eye, or any other Organ,
can drink its poyson in to vanquish Nature,
though nere so strong and youthful. 'Twas Simanthes
devis'd it for my brother, and my cunning
transferr'd it to Almanzor; 'tis no matter,
my worst impiety is held now religious.
'Twixt Kings and their inferiors there's this ods,
These are meer men, we men, yet earthly gods.
Exit.
Abil.
'Twas well the Muts prov'd faithful, otherwise
I'd lost my breath with as much speed and silence
as those who do expite in dreams, their health
seeming no whit abated. But 'twas wisely
consider'd of me, to prepare those sure
instruments of destruction: The suspicion
I had by Abrahen of my fathers fears
of my unthought ambition, did instruct me
by making them mine, to secure my safety.
Would the inhumane Surgeon had tane
these blessed lights from me; that I had liv'd for ever
doom'd to perpetual darkness, rather then
Tarifa's fears had so appeach'd her honour.
Well, villain Brother, I have found, that by
my seeming death, which by my lives best arts
I ne're should have had knowledg of. Dear Father,
though thou to me wert pitilesse, my heart
weeps tears of blood, to see thy age thus like
a lofty pine fall, eaten through by th'gin
from its own Stock descending: He has agents
in his ungracious wickednesse: Simanthes
he has discover'd: Were they multitudes
as numerous as collected sands, and mighty
in force as mischief, they should from my Justice
meet their due punishment. Abrahen by this
is proclaim'd Caliph, yet my undoubted right,
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the people to my part; the armie's mine,
whither I must withdraw unseen: the night
wil best secure me. What a strange Chimera
of thought possesses my dul brain! Caropia,
thou hast a share in them: Fate, to thy mercie
I do commit my self; who scapes the snare
once, has a certain caution to beware.
Exit.
Scen. 2.
Enter Caropia and Perilinda.Car.
Your Lord is not returned yet!
Per.
No, good Madam:
pray do not thus torment your self, the Prince
(I warrant you) wil have no injurie
by saving of your honour; do you think
his father wil be so extreme outragious
for such a trifle, as to force a woman
with her good liking?
Car.
My ill boding soul
beats with presages ominous. Would heaven
I'd stood the hazard of my incens'd Lords furie,
rather then he had run this imminent danger.
Could you ne're learn, which of the slaves it was
betray'd our close loves to loath'd Mura's notice?
Per.
No indeed could I not; but here's my Lord,
pray Madam do not grieve so!
Enter Mur.
Mu.
My Caropia,
dress up thy looks in their accustom'd beauties,
cal back the constant spring into thy cheeks,
that droope like lovely Violets, o're charg'd
with too much mornings dew; shoot from thy eies
a thousand flames of joy. The lustful Prince,
that like a foul thief, rob'd thee of thy honour
by his ungracious violence has met
his roial fathers Justice.
Car.
Now my fears
carry too sure an augury! you would fain
sooth me, my Lord, out of my floud of sorrows;
what reparation can that make my honour,
though he have tasted punishment?
Mu.
His life
is faln the off-spring of thy chastitie,
which his hot lust polluted: nay, Caropia,
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applied to his lascivious eies; although
at first he did with impudence acknowledg
thy rape, he did invade thy spotless virtue,
protested, only 'twas to save thy honor,
he took on him thy rape, when with consent
and not constrain'd, thou yeildedst to the loosness
of his wild vicious flames.
Car.
Could he be so unjust, my Lord?
Mu.
He was, and he has paid for't;
the malicious Souldier, while he was a losing
his eies, made violent head to bring him reskue, which
pul'd his ruine on him. But no more
of such a prodigie; may his black memorie
perish even with his ashes. My Caropia,
the flourishing trees widow'd by winters violence
of their fair ornaments, when 'tis expir'd once,
put forth again with new and virgin freshness,
their bushie beauties; it should be thy emblem.
Display agen those chast immaculate glories,
which the harsh winter of his lust had wither'd;
and I'll agen be wedded to thy vertues,
with as much joy, as when thou first inrich'd me
with their pure maiden beauties. Thou art dul,
and dost not gratulate with happie welcoms,
the triumphs of thy vengeance.
Car.
Are you sure, my Lord, the Prince is dead?
Mu.
Pish, I beheld him breathlesse.
Take comfort best Caropia, thy disgrace
did with his loath'd breath vanish.
Car.
I could wish though,
that he had falne by your particular vengance,
rather then by th'laws rigor; you're a Souldier
of glorie, great in war for brave performance:
me thinks't had been far nobler, had you call'd him
to personal satisfaction: had I been
your husband, you my wife, and ravished by him;
my resolution would have arm'd my courage
to've stroke him thus: The dead Prince sends you that.
Stab him
Mu.
O, I am slain!
Car.
Would it were possible
to kil even thy eternitie. Sweet Prince,
how shal I satisfie thy unhappie ruins!
Ha, not yet breathlesse! To increase thy anguish
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more dear to me, then thy foul selfe was odious,
and did enjoy me freely.
Mu.
That I had
but breath enough to blast thee.
Car.
'Twas his brother
(curse on his art) seduc'd me to accuse
him of my rape. Do you groane, prodigie!
take this as my last bountie.
Stab again.
Enter Perilinda.
Per.
O Madam, Madam,
what shal we do? the house is round beset
with Souldiers; Madam, they do sweare they'le tear
my Lord, for the sweet Princes death, in pieces.
Car.
This hand has sav'd
their furie that just labour: yet I'le make
use of their malice, help to convey
him into's Chamber.
Enter Osman, Gasselles, Souldiers.
Gas.
Where is this villain, this traitor Mura?
Car.
Heaven knowes what violence
their furie may assault me with; be't death,
't shall be as welcome, as sound healthful sleeps
to men oppress'd with sicknesse. What's the matter?
what means this outrage?
Os.
Marry, Ladie gay,
We're come to cut your little throat; pox on you,
and all your sex; you've caus'd the noble Princes
death, wild-fire take you fort, weel talk with you
at better leisure: you must needs be ravished!
and could not like an honest woman, take
the curtesie in friendly sort!
Gas.
We trifle:
her husband may escape us. Say, where is he?
or you shall die, ere you can pray
Sold.
Here, here I have found the vallain! what, do you
sleep so soundly? ne're wake more, this for the
Prince, you rogue: let's tear him piecemeale.
Do you take your death in silence, dog!
Car.
You appear indow'd with some humanitie,
you have tane his life; let not your hate last
after death; let me embalm his bodie with
my tears, or kil me with him.
Os.
Now you've said the word,
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Enter Tarifa.
Tar.
Slaves, unhand
the Ladie, who dares offer her least violence,
from this hand meets his punishment. Gaselles,
Osman, I thought you had been better temper'd,
then thus to raise up mutinies. In the name
of Abrahen our now Caliph, I command you,
desist from these rebellious practises,
and quietly retire into the Camp,
and there expect his pleasure.
Gas.
Abrahen Caliph!
There is some hopes then, we shall gaine our pardons:
Long live great Abrahen. Souldiers, slink away,
our vow is consummate.
Car.
O my deare Lord!
Tar.
Be gone.
Os.
Yes, as quietly
as if we were in flight before the foe;
the general pardon at the coronation,
wil bring us off I'me sure.
Tar.
Alas, good Madam!
I'me sorrie that these miseries have faln
with so much rigor on you; pray take comfort:
your husband prosecuted with too much violence
Prince Abilqualit's ruine.
Car.
It appeared so!
what worlds of woes have hapless I given life to,
and yet survive them!
Tar.
Do not with such furie
torment your innocent self. I'me sure the Emperor
Abrahen, wil number't 'mongst his greatest sorrows,
that he has lost your husband. I must give him
notice of these proceedings. Best peace keep you,
and settle your distractions.
Car.
not until
I'me setled in my peaceful urne. This is yet
some comfort to me, 'midst the floods of woes,
that do overwhelm me for the Princes death,
that I reveng'd it safely; though I prize
my life at no more value then a foolish
ignorant Indian does a Diamond,
which for a bead of Jet or glass, he changes:
Nor would I keep it, were it not with fuller,
more noble braverie, to take revenge
for my Lord Abilqualit's timelesse slaughter.
53
is held the natural qualitie of our Sex,
nor wil't be hard to practice. This same Abrahen,
that by his brothers ruine weilds the Scepter,
whether out of his innocence or malice,
'twas that perswaded me to accuse him of
my rape. The die is cast, I am resolv'd
to thee my Abilqualit I wil come.
A death for love,'s no death but Martyrdom.
Exit
Revenge For Honour | ||