University of Virginia Library

Act the Third

Scene the First.

Enter Muly Hamet, Scene the Palace.
Muly H.
'Tis now our Royal Mothers Breath must bind
That sacred tye of Love my King has sign'd,
And Providence has seal'd: make Her but kind.

Exit.
Scene a Bed-Chamber.
The Scene opens, and discovers Crimalhaz and Queen Mother sleeping on a Couch, a Table standing by, with Crimalhaz's Plume of Feathers, and his Drawn Sword upon it.
Re-enter Muly Hamet.
Muly H.
Laula in Crimalhaz his Arms asleep!
Ha! Does she thus for her dead Husband weep?
Oh fond and amorous Queen! has Lust such Charms,
Can make Her fly to an Adulterers Arms?
His Sword drawn for his Guard,—
[Spies the Sword.
But he shall die.—No, He shall Wake, and Know
The Justice and the Hand that gives the Blow:
Should I descend to a Revenge so base,
His Death unarm'd my Glory would deface:
I will restore the Traytors Sword; for still
I have been taught to conquer those I kill.
Well, as a Witness of his Crime, his Sword
I'le take, which when we meet shall be restor'd.
Then secretly, but honourably too,
My Hand shall Act what to his Guilt is due.
For, lest I should my Queens Disgrace proclaime,
I'le right her Wrongs, but I'le conceal her Shame.

Exit.
The Scene changes to an Anti-Chamber.
Muly Hamet re-enters with the same Sword, and in passing over the Stage is overtaken by the King.
King.
Muly Hamet! stay.

Muly H.
The King!

King.
What have you there?

Muly H.
Curst Chance! what shall I say?

[aside.
King.
You thus appear
To've left the Field to gather Laurels here.
Who is the Man that has this Honour gain'd,
To be subdu'd by such a Gen'rous Hand?
Tell me.

Muly H.
Your Royal Pardon.

King.
No, proceed.
If you have kill'd him, I forgive the Deed;
Who e're against You durst his Sword unsheath
Has justly from your Hand deserv'd his Death.

Muly H.
No, Sir, he lives, and lives unvanquish'd too.

King.
How, lives!

Muly H.
Oh do not your Demands pursue.
Urge me no more, nor force me to reveal
The only thing my Honour would conceal.

King.
How, Muly Hamet, durst you act that thing
You dare not utter to your Friend, and King.

Muly H.
My Kings Esteem I by my Silence lose,
And Speaking, I his Mothers Shame expose.

[aside.
King.
Speak, if you can by Friendship be conjur'd.
Whose is it?

Muly H.
Sir, 'tis Crimalhaz his Sword.

King.
How Crimalhaz! Are you not newly from
Th'apartment of my Royal Mother come?
In what defenceless Garb did you surprise
Him there, that you disarm'd him with such ease?
We o're our Womens Honours set such Eies,
That the Seraglio all access denies.
Who enters there without my Signet dies.

Muly H.
Her Shame too openly will be descry'd;
His Jealousie will find what I would hide.

[aside.
King.
A sudden Fancy does my Breast inflame,
Something so strange, as I want words to name:
But She's my Mother, and I dare not guess—
Yet She's a Woman, and I can no less
Than start at Horrours which my Honour stain.
Confusion! and was Crimalhaz the Man?

Muly H.
Oh! Sir, what has my forc'd Obedience don?
Against a Mother I've incens'd a Son.
Your Princely Brow let no disorders change,
Let my Hand, Sir, Your disturb'd Peace revenge.

King.
No, Muly Hamet has a Sword too good
To be defil'd with an Adulterers Blood.
He t'an ignobler Fate shall be condemn'd;
I'le make him infamous, low, and contemn'd.
Disrob'd of all his Titles he shall bleed,
Like a Crown'd Victim to an Altar led,
Whose Wreaths and Garlands to the fire are cast,
And then the naked Sacrifice falls last.
That sinking States-man undergoes the worst
Of Deaths, whose Honours and whose Pow'r dies first.
[exit King.

Muly H.
This was the only Chance could shake my Fame.
Oh weak Foundations of a Glorious Name!
I from the Field do a Crown'd Conqu'rour come,
To turn a base Informer here at home:
Yet nothing is so bright but has some Scars;
Men can through Glasses find out Spots in Stars.

[Exit.
The Scene changes again to the Queen Mothers Bed-Chamber, where She and Crimalhaz appear hand in hand; She in a Morning Dress.
Crim.
Love acts the part of tributary Kings:
As they pay homage to their Conquerour;
Our kind Embraces are but Offerings
Of Tribute to triumphant Beauty's Pow'r.

Q. M.
Great Spirits Rivals are to Gods, and can,
Were all the World like me, their Heav'n unman:
We'd antidate our Bliss, not stay to move,
like Pageant-Saints, to airy Seats above:
We'd here below enjoy our Chiefest Good,
And reap Delights which they ne're understood.

Crim.
Ha! my Sword gon! Madam, we are betray'd.

Q. M.
Whose he that dares our Privacy invade?

Crim.
Some fatal Eye our interview has seen.

Q. M.
Who e're has seen us, knows I am a Queen.
That powerful Word his Silence does demand;
'Tis Blasphemy to name, nay understand
What Princes act.—

Crim.
Ho! Achmat, Achmat,—
[Enter Achmat.
—What bold Man has been
Admitted to th'Apartment of the Queen?

Ach.
Prince Muly Hamet.

Q. Moth,
Ha! by whose Command?

Achm.
The Royal Signet from the Kings own hand
Gave him Admittance.

Q. Moth.
But, rude Slave, how durst
You violate what I commanded first?
Know, Traytor, I am Mother to a King:
His Pow'r subordinate from Me does spring.
My Orders therefore should unquestion'd stand,
Who gave him Breath, by which he does Command.
What my Commands have mist, this shall make good.
Princes are by their Deeds best understood.

[Stabs the Eunuch, who falls and dies.
Crim.
Fall, and in Death all hopes of Mercy lose,
Who durst the Secrets of your Queen disclose:
Closets of Princes should be held Divine,
As a Saints presence Consecrates his Shrine:
And Princes Pleasures should Alliance hold
With their great Pow'r, be free and uncontrou'ld.

Q. Moth.

Crim.
No, though I lose that Head which I before
Desig'nd should the Morocco-Crown have wore:
Yet what's the fear of Tortures, Death, Hell? Death,
Like a faint Lust, can only stop the Breath.
Tortures weak Engines that can run us down,
Or skrew us up till we are out of tune.
And Hell, a feeble, puny cramp of Souls:
Such infant Pains may serve to frighten Fools.
Fates, if I'm doom'd your Mark, I'le stand you fair;
Nor will I for your Favours lose a Pray'r.

Q. M.
A pray'r, Devotion and a States-man! No,
The Pow's above are titular below:
Stars are all Eye, and when great Deeds are done
All their faint Lights are but bare Lookers on.
Now thou art brave, none but a Heart above
The shock of Fortune, could deserve my Love:
But fear no danger, to our aid I'le call
My Arts and Friends in Hell to stop our Fall.
To this I'le for our safety take recourse:
Through your right Hand this fatal Dagger force:
Then leave the Conduct of the Deed to me;
Fate dares no less than my Protector be.

Here Crimalhaz stabbs himself in his right Arm, which immediately appears bloody.
Crim.
'Tis don.

[Throws away the Dagger.
Enter to them the King and Muly Hamet.
King.
May Heav'n forgive my Eies, that they have seen
This Object in a Mother and a Queen.

Q. M.
Oh Son! be deaf to what will wound your Ear,
Let this black Day be cancell'd from the Year.
But if your Justice must his Faults pursue,
Impose on Me what to his Guilt is due.

Muly H.
See how she treats her Shame: Madam, I wish
Your Virtues greater, or your Birth were less.

King.
Since you have sullied thus our Royal Blood,
The Grounds and Rise of this past Crime relate,
[to Crimalhaz.
That, having your Offences understood,
We, what we cann't recall, may expiate.

Crim.
Sir, 'Twas my fate—

Q. M.
Hold, Sir, the Story does to me belong,
A Womans Frailty from a Womans Tongue.
Whilst pensively I in my Closet sate
My Eyes pay'd Tribute to my Husbands Fate,
And while those Thoughts my sinking Spirits seis'd
His Entrance my dejected Courage rais'd:
[Pointing to Muly Hamet.
The sudden Object did new Thoughts produce;
My Griefs suspended, lent my Tears a Truce:
For then I otherwise employ'd my Eies,
Whilst in His Aspect I read Victories.
[points to Muly Hamet.
But, Muly Hamet, then your cruel Breast—

Muly H.
Speak.

Q. M.
Let my Tears and Blushes speak the rest.

Muly H.
What does she mean? My lab'ring Thoughts dispatch.

Q. M.
Your Soul and Person Nature did ill match.
Such savage Passions and unruly Heat,
Lodg'd in Your Breast, hold a too glorious Seat.

Muly H.
This mystick Language does my Sence confound.

Q. Moth.
Oh, Sir!

King.
This riddling History expound.

Q. M.
Well, Sir, since you will force my Tongue, I must
Be to my Honour and my Virtue just.
Having a while upon each other gaz'd,
He at my Silence, I his Eyes amaz'd:
Then, Muly Hamet, then—

King.
What did he do?

Q. M.
Attempt to ravish me. His alter'd Brow
Wore such fierce Looks, as had more proper been
To lead an Army with, than Court a Queen.
And, as a Ravisher, I abhorr'd him more
In that black form, than I admir'd before.
But whilst my Virtue a Resistance made
My Shrieks and Cries brought Achmat to my aid:
Whilst th'Eunuch stood amaz'd, his Sword he snatc'd,
And at one Stroke his wond'ring Soul dispatch'd.

Muly H.
Oh Horrour!

Q. M.
Then, led by some happy Chance,
Kind Crimalhaz did to my Aid advance.

Crim.
But being by my sudden Entrance crost,
And all the Hopes of his stoln Pleasures lost,
My sight did to his sparkling Eies inspire
Such Rage, as if his Lust had lent 'em Fire:
Though Justice in Her Cause did guide my Hand,
No Sword could his Victorious Arm withstand:
And when his Weapon through my Hand had run,
Fearing th'Event of what his Rage had done,
He bore away my Sword, a poor Pretence,
To turn his Crime upon my Innocence.

Muly H.
False and perfidious Traytour!
[to Crimalhaz.
Sir, to your Royal Favours add one more,
[to the King.
And I'le quit all that I receiv'd before:
To this Adulterer your Leave afford
To vindicate his Treason by his Sword;
That Justice, by my Hand, may give him Death,
And stifle with his Blood his perjur'd Breath.

King.
Hold, Sir, if you this rash attempt pursue,
You'l make me think, that what he says is true.
This subtile mystery confounds me more
Than the past horrour of the Deed before.

Crim.
Alas, Sir, He, who has so savage been,
To dare abuse the Honour of a Queen,
Esteeming all less Crimes but sportive things,
Could not want Words t'abuse the Ears of Kings.

Muly H.
Bold Villain—

King.
Hold, your Passions Rage command;
You in an injur'd Monarchs presence stand.

Muly H.
Can the Eternal Pow'rs such Treachery
Permit? You the great Rulers of the Sky,
Sitting thus patient at so tame a rate,
In Heav'ns soft ease are grown effeminate.
If such loud Crimes your armless Pow'r out-face,
Your pointless Vengeance will your Heav'n disgrace.

Q. M.
Had you my Breast by Honour sought to win,
Yet Love t'a pious Mother, and a Mourning Queen,
Had sounded harsh. But grant that Time and Love
Could from my Bosom my dead Lord remove:
I to your Passion might so just have been,
To 've met your Love, but not ith' shape of Sin.

Muly H.
Madam, You may say anything: Your Sex
And Birth the vent of my just Passion checks.
Sir, do but hear—

[To the King.
Crim.
You may vouchsafe to hear
What You may read more plainly, here, and there.

[Points to the dead Eunuch and his wounded Arm.
King.
I in this Parley too much time bestow:
Hearing the Cause, I make the Vengeance slow.
Guards—Yet I'le hear him—

Muly H.
My single Word a vain Defence will make,
Where so much Witness, and a Mother speak.
But yet Heav'n sees my Innocence; and know
That I am proud this Shame to undergo.
Believe me, her intended Ravisher
Appearing so, I take the Guilt from Her.
Their false Impeachments do this comfort bring,
That I may wear that Cloud would shade a King.

King.
His kind soft Words do but confirm th'Offence,
Men are nere losers for their Breaths expence:
But still speak kindest when their Falls are near,
Not out of Generosity, but Fear.
It is enough She witness'd his Offence;
Her Virtue scorns to accuse Innocence.
And since her Blood does run within my Veins,
By' instinct I know she all that's base disdains.
But if I want more Proofs to make it out,
His Murder and his Wound removes the doubt.
Muly Hamet, for this Guilt our Prophets Breath
Has in his sacred Laws pronounc'd your Death.

Q. M.
His Death!
[Surprized.
But hold! The King will then my Cheat descry,
I wish His Death who tamely see him dye.
[aside.
O cruel Sir, that killing Breath recall:
[to the King.
Our holy Prophet dares not see him fall,
I'm sure, had he My Eyes. Heav'n cannot see
Such Courage bear so harsh a Destinie.
The Pow'rs above would shrink at what he felt:
His Death to Tears their Chrystal Orb would melt.
But—
If You must act what Mercy can't prevent,
Inflict—inflict some milder Punishment.

King.
His Deeds and Service in Morocco's Cause
May mitigate the rigour of our Laws.
His Army then I to your charge commend,
Her Honours Guardian, and our Loyal Friend.
[to Crimalhaz.
Here bind the Traytor, and convey him strait
[to the Guards.
To Prison, there to linger out his Fate:
Till his hard Lodging and his slender Food
Allay the Fury of his Lustful Blood.

[Guards bind Muly Ham.
Q. M.
Think what Impression on my Breast 'twill make,
To see his Hands wear Fetters for my sake.

Muly H.
(In whisper between Muly Hamet and Queen Mother.)
Madam, be serious, tell me how so foul
A Treason gain'd admission to your Soul.

Q. M.
(In whisper between Muly Hamet and Queen Mother.)
My Soul! Dull Man, what has my Soul to do
In such mean Acts as my betraying You?
Murder and Treason—
Without the help of Souls, when I think good,
Such toys I act; as I'm but Flesh and Blood.

Mu. H.
(In whisper between Muly Hamet and Queen Mother.)
Let not too high your Scorn of Justice swell:
Know, Madam on such Crimes there waits a Hell.

Q. M.
(In whisper between Muly Hamet and Queen Mother.)
Hell! No, of that I scorn to be afraid:
I'le send such throngs to the infernal shade,
Betray, and kill, and damn to that degree,
Ile crowd up Hell, till there's no Room for Me.

King.
Here, to the Tower that guarded Pris'ner send:
His saither Doom from my Commands attend.

Muly H.
I for my former state
My Homage to your Royal Father paid,
And Monarchs may destroy what Monarchs made:
For Subjects Glories are but borrow'd things,
Rais'd by the favourable Smiles of Kings:
And at their Authors Pleasures should retire,
And when their Breath renounces 'em expire.
Should I the Sentence of my Sovereign blame,
I should be guiltier than They say I am.
But though your Frowns' declare my Fetters just,
Look to what dang'rous Hand your Pow'r you trust.
Monarchs do nothing ill, unless when they
By their own Acts of Grace their Lives betray.
When Favours they too gen'rously afford,
And in a Treacherous Hand misplace their Sword,
Their Bounties in their Ruine are employ'd:
Kings only by their Vertues are destroy'd.

King.
Your Counsels weakly do my Ears attract;
You ill teach Virtue which you cannot act.
Live then, till time this sense of Horrour brings,
What 'tis to ravish Queens, and injure Kings.

Exeunt King and Muly Hamet severally; Muly Hamet led out by the Guards.
Q. M.
You see the Fates do their Allegiance know,
And to my pow'rful Breath their Conduct ow.
'Tis pity Monarchs are so scarce—
Such gen'rous, easie, kind, good natured things,
That one feign'd Tear can rule the Faith of Kings.

Crim.
So bravely, Madam, your Design succeeds,
As if the Fates were Vassals to your Deeds.
That Politician who to Empire climbs,
With Virtues Dress should beautifie his Crimes.
Our guilded Treason thus like Coral seems;
Which appears Black within its native Streams:
But when Disclos'd it sees the open Air;
It changes Colour, and looks Fresh and Fair.

[Exeunt.

Scene the second

the Scene a Prison.
The Scene opens, Muly Hamet appears bound.
Muly H.
Disrob'd of all at once! what turns more strange
Can Ages, if an Hour can make such Change?
Enter to him Mariamne, with one Attendant, from whom she takes a Sword, and exit Attendant.
Kind Mariamne.

Mar.
Yes, False Man, the same,
Till your bold Lust had forfeited that Name.
The Daughters easie Breast would ill confer
A Kindness on her Mothers Ravisher.

Muly H.
Can Mariamne think me guilty too?
More than my Chains have done your Frowns will do:
Mariamne's Eyes out-vie her Brothers Pow'r.
I ne're was miserable till this hour.

Mar.
Ungrateful! is your Soul so much defaced?
Have I so ill a too fond Heart misplaced?
My Rival Mother does my Right remove:
And in affront to my rejected Love
Your Scorn to Me you in her Shame make good,
Forcing her Virtue to prophane my Blood.
But, perjur'd Man, though you deserve so ill,
Yet you shall find me Mariamne still.
To my past Favours I will add one more.
Thus I your Freedom, and your Sword restore.
[Unbinds him, and gives him the Sword.
Live, and in safety go, and fly that Fate
Which does th'unhappy Muly Hamet wait.

Muly H.
My Sword and Liberty restor'd by You,
To one ungrateful, false and perjur'd too!
Ah, Madam, if your Mercy can confer
Such Bounty on a condemn'd Ravisher;
What nobler Favours would your Smiles dispence,
If Mariamne knew my Innocence?

Mar.
Sir, you mistake my Favours: I have lent
Your Freedom only as your Banishment:
That being releas'd, you might Morocco fly,
Remov'd at once both from my Heart and Eye.
(aside...)
For should he stay—
Something like Pity in his cause would plead,
Till my faint Anger were in Triumph led.
Some Rebel Thought my ill-fenc'd Heart would win,
And treacherously once more let him in. (...aside.)

Go, Ravisher, take your offer'd Liberty:
And to some barb'rous, unknown Desart fly,
Where Men have nought but Shape that's humane; there,
Where Virtue looks more ill than Monsters here.
Converse with wild and lustful Savages:
Live, and inhabit any Seat—but This.

[Points to her Breast.
Muly H.
Divine, but cruel Princess, to whom Heav'n
Has all its Titles but its Knowledg giv'n.
Else, like their Pow'rs, you could not want a Sence
Of Muly Hamets injur'd Innocence.
Can Murders, Rapes, or any barb'rous Deed,
Madam, from your Adorers Thoughts proceed?
No, Hells Commission does not reach so far,
To touch his Heart, which does your Image wear.

Mar.
Ah, were this true!

Muly H.
Witness the sacred Pow'rs,
If ought of truth be in a Heart that's yours,
Then Crimalhaz is false. Your Mother too,
(If ought that's ill can be allied to you)
Has spoke what Muly Hamet durst not think.
Achmat his Death, and Crimalhaz his Wound,
Not from My Sword, but from Their Dagger sound.
The Eunuchs Blood by their own Hand was spilt;
To work my Ruine, and conceal their Guilt.

Mar.
(aside)
A genle Calm my Anger does asswage,
Creeps cooly o're my Heart, and chils my Rage.
Some strange Divine Intelligence is stole
Into my Breast, and whispers to my Soul,
Unkind, Suspicious, Cruel, and Unjust;
That Virtue Love had taught him you may trust.

Muly H.
Were I that Savage Ravisher I seem,
I still might father this imputed Crime:
This Prison, and Our private Interview,
Giving me pow'r t'Attempt that force on You.
How dare you then my Out-law'd Virtue trust,
And lend that freedom which would arm that Lust?
But did you know how clear my Soul does shine,
Unclouded, and still pure enough, t'enshrine
Such a Divinity as yours, you'd free
Your self from Doubts, as you from Chains did Mee.
Your Mothers Eyes cannot your Right remove:
To prove the power of Mariamnes Love,
Madam, my proffer'd freedom I refuse:
Flying Morocco, I your sight should lose;
And rather than be banish't from those Eyes,
I can all thoughts of Liberty despise:
For I in Fetters may your Grace implore,
And make your Pity grant one Visit more.
If not your Love, yet your Compassion may
Once more, at least, guide your kind steps this way.
Gaining your sight, I can my Chains out-brave,
The Brother's prisoner, but the Sister's slave.

Mar.
Enough, brave Prince; My Jealousie forgive:
Virtue ne're dies, where so much Love does live.
Heav'n cannot but, like Me, think it unjust,
That so much Virtue should in fetters rust.
But since of injur'd Innocence Heav'n dares
Be a spectator, I'le correct the Star's.
I will redress those Wrongs
Which their tame patience lets you suffer. Take
Once more your Freedom for your Princess sake.
Fly these infected Walls, this barb'rous Town,
Where Virtue mourns under a Tyrants frown.
Before, my Rage your Freedom did Command:
But now accept it from a gentler Hand.
Kindness and Cruelty one doom decree:
None ever Punish, and Reward like Me.

Muly H.
And must I from my Princess presence fly?

Mar.
No, stay.

Muly H.
Kind Stars!

Mar.
Yes, in my Memory.
Absent you shall in my Remembrance reigne.
I'le to your Image dedicate this shrine.

[Points to her Breast.
Enter King, and young Queen.
To the Door.
Muly H.
Madam, your Brother, when he hears my Sword,
And Liberty is by your Hand restor'd,
May grow incens'd to such a high degree,
To make You share those Frowns which threatned Me.
And are my thoughts so low, to make you run
Those Dangers which I by my flight shall shun?

Mar.
Request does with a Mistress pow'r ill suite.
Sir, I Command that freedom you dispute.
And, if his stubborn Faith to a just thought
Of your wrong'd Innocence cannot be wrought:
If his rash passion natures bonds should quit,
And make him both my Sex, and Birth forget;
Remember that you wear a Sword, and you
As you're my Servant, be my Champion too.

Enter to them King, Young Queen, Q. Mother, Crimalhaz, Hametalhaz and Attendants.
King.
His Sword, and freedom by her hand retrived!
Surely my Eyes and Ears are both deceiv'd.
How! Rebel, dare you with things Sacred sport,
Ravish the Mother, and the Daughter Court?
[to Muly H.
Have You your Birth no better understood,
[to Mariamne.
Than to be Traytor to your own high Blood?
Since Prisons no restraint o're Lust can have,
Why did I not confine him to a Grave?

Muly H.
'Tis not long since your Bounty did designe
Not only This, but th'Hand that gave it, mine.

King.
When I design'd That, I design'd She shou'd
Be in a Palace, not a Prison, woo'd;
Not circled in a Chain, but in a Crown:
Sir, You mistake a Dungeon for a Throne.

Q. M.
Remember, if your Memory can prove
So just, t'unravel your own Scenes of Love.
Unless blest Lovers, whose desires are Crown'd,
Mounting so high, forget their rising ground.
These Prison-walls have Eccho'd to your Sighs,
Conscious as well of your Amours, as His.
No fetters can Lov's lawless pow'r suppress:
You too have been a Lover in his dress.
Some Pity then should to their Loves be shown,
For their so near resemblance of your own.
She can forgive his Faults, why cannot You?
If Love can Pardon, why not Honour too?

Mar.
Knew you his Innocence, you would approve
Both his just Liberty, and my just Love.
But, Sir, you know, I'm Sister to a King:
And in that Name I dare do any thing;
Make where I please my Heart an Offering.
Tortures, nor Chains, shall not my Love rebate:
I'le share his Breast, though I should share his Fate.

King.
Sister, your noble Pride has made me kind:
I'le give him that Reward which You design'd.
Your Courteous hand his Freedom did restore;
And I'le repeat what you pronounc't before:
Be gone, and never see Morocco more.
At the next mornings light, if the Suns Eye
Find you within the City-gates, you Dye.
And the Tenth day you lose your Head, if found
Within the Circuit of my Empires bound.

Muly H.
Now I am lost, and all my Hopes dispers't.
This Monsters villany has done its worst.
[to Crimalhaz.
Inhumane, to your Conscious Soul recall—

Crim.
The Tortures which it feels to see You fall.

Muly H.
No, Traytor.

Crim.
Traytor, Yes Sir, I should be
Traytor to Reason and Humanity,
Should I not grieve for You.

Muly H.
Oh cunning Ignorance!
These Traytors walk like mad-men in a Trance:
Seem not to understand the Crimes they Act.
But from what springs, do You your Tears extract!

[aside, to Q. M.
Q. M.
From springs so deep shall sink Thee down to Hell.
I shed my Tears, as Rain in Egypt falls,
Sent for no common cause, but to foretell
[aside to him.
Destructions, Ruins, Plagues, and Funerals.
I ne're draw Tears, but when those Tears draw Blood.

King.
My Justice in suspence too long has stood.

Q. M.
How, Justice? no, your Cruelty. How can
So harsh a Doom against so Brave a man
Be Justice? View that Brow, that Charming Eye:
See there the Grace and Meen of Majesty.
Can you to Exile then that Man enjoyne,
Whose Soul must, like his Aspect, be Divine?
Oh Son!

[Weeps.]
King.
His Sentence is already past;
And now her Kindness does his Ruine hast.
Be gone, and fly to some infected Aire,
Where Poysons brood, where men derive their Crimes,
Their Lusts, their Rapes, and Murthers, from their Climes:
And all the Venome which their Soils do want,
May the Contagion of your Presence grant.

Muly H.
I must obey you, and embrace my Doom
With the same patience Saints do Martyrdom.
Only their Suffering's a Reward receive;
They Die to meet that Happiness I leave:
They Die, that in their deaths they Heaven may find:
But in my Princess, I leave Mine behind.
And my hard Exile does this Horrour bring,
I lose the power to serve so good a King:
So Good, that 'twould as great a Bliss confer
To Die for You, as 'tis to Live for Her.
Since in your Kingdoms limits I'm deni'de
A seat, may your great Empire spread so wide,
Till its vast largeness does Reverse my doom;
And for my Banishment the World wants room.

King.
I'le hear no more. But for this Audience know
How much you to my gracious Favour owe.
His Mercy's great, whose Patience is so strong,
To give a Traytor leave to Talk thus long.

[Exeunt King, and young Queen.
Mar.
Farewel for ever. When you're gone, and all
Mariamne ever Lov'd, or ever shall.—
She sees no more; Yet by despair made just,
Let not our Hearts take leave, though our Eyes must.
Though you through wild and savage Desarts go,
No place so barren, but where Love may grow.

Muly H.
When to your ears some gentle breath shall bring
The last Remains of a lost wretched thing,
That lived as long as he could gaze on You;
And shined, till that inspiring Light withdrew.
If Fame vouchsafe words on a wretch so poor;
When you shall hear I was, but am no more;
In my Lost seat let my Remembrance stay:
Give my Name life, though Grief take Mine away.

[Exeunt Muly Hamet and Mariamne severally.
Crim.
Fate and our Wishes meet.

Q. M.
His Exile is not all:
Our Treasons are not safe but in his Fall.
He Lives, though he be Banish't; and the Great
Are never fully Dark'ned, till they Set:
This Cloud may pass, and He shine out once more;
But from your hand this favour I implore:
Pursue him out of Town, and in disguise
[to Hametal.
With some dissembling Tale his Ears surprise;
Till your Confederate-Party has gain'd time
To place an Ambuscade, and Murder him.

Hamet.
Conclude it done.

Q. M.
And your next step t'a Throne
[to Crimalhaz.
Must be, dear Sir, the Murther of my Son.

Crim.
His Palace—
And the kind City's love's so strong a Guard,
Th'Attempt within these Walls appears too hard.

Q. M.
But what that Bars, this Easier way secures:
His Army, and his Treasures Charge, are yours.
To Morrow on the Plain before the Wall,
His Forces you t'a general-muster Call.
Then their Commander You shall in their Head
His Army to the Mountain Atlas lead:
And to secure your Flight, to night by Stealth
Ransack his Treasury, seize all his Wealth.
At first Alarm, this will his Courage damp:
But by such Arts, I his Resolves will sway;
I'le work him from the Town up to the Camp,
And safe into your Hands his Life betray.
But when Your Throne I on His Grave have built,
Remember Love was Authour of my Guilt.

Crim.
This work, which we so roughly do begin,
Zeal and Religion may perhaps call Sin.
No; the more Barb'rous garb our Deeds assume,
We nearer to our First perfection come.
Since Nature first made Man wild, savage, strong,
And his Blood hot, then when the world was Young:
If Infant-times such Rising-valours bore,
Why should not Riper Ages now do more?
But whilst our Souls wax Tame, and Spirits Cold,
We Only show th'unactive World grows Old.

[Exeunt Crimalhaz, and Young Queen.
Hamet.
Muly Hamet Bleeds the next.
To him, who Climbs by Blood, no track seems Hard:
The Sence of Crimes is lost in the Reward:
Aspirers neither Guilt nor Danger Dread:
No path so rough Ambition dares not Tread.

[Exit.