University of Virginia Library

Scena quinta.

Enter Priest & Mustapha.
Pr.
False Mahomet, thy lawes Monarchall are,
Vniust, ambitious, full of spoile and blood,
Hauing not of the best but greatest care
To whome still thou dost sacrifice thy good.
Must life yeeld vp it selfe to be put out,
Before this frame of nature be denied?
Must blood the tribute be of princes doubt?
O wretched flesh in which must be obaid,
Gods lawes, that wills impossibilities:
And princes willes, which worke in crueltie,
With faith (an art borne of false Prophets word)
Wee blind our selues, and with our selues the rest,
To humblenesse, the sheath of tyrants sword,
Each, worst vnto himselfe approuing best.
People, beleeue in God, wee are vntrue,
Spirituall forges vnto princes might;
God doth require, what's onely best for you;
But we doe preach, your bodies to the warre,
Your goods to spoile, your freedome into bands,
(duties by which you aw'de of others are)
And feare which to your harmes doth lead your hands:
Who preach, that God, who made all flesh alike,
Bids you lay downe your necks for kings to strike.
I am the diuels friend, Hells Mediatour,
Truths spight, ruines hand, and sinnes occasion,
A furie vnto man, a man to furies.
Oh vertue, if thou any where haue essence
But in sweet Mustapha, whome I haue ruind;
And you faire-orderly-confused Planets,
If you be more then ornaments in heauen,
And that you worke in destinies of the mortall,
Shew vs, that destinies be not confus'd,
Not euill to the good, good to the euill;
Confusion is the iustice of the diuell.
Saue Mustapha, fates course well changed is,
Where constancie leades her to doe amisse:
Change or turne backe your course, let Asia know,
That earth doth hatch her owne ill destinie,
Which in aspects the starres but onely shew,
Lay forth the hatefull vilde conspiracie,
Wherein this tyrant meanes to ouerthrow
His sonne, the hope of all humanitie.
In Mustapha with influence worke so,
As he is full: and strength at once may see,
Whom, monster, I, haue hither made to come,
Guiltlesse through guiltie feare to take his doome,
Now hell and paine, if you else where be seated,
Then ------ absence and my presence.
Call me againe in hast to come vnto you,
If worse I be not with my selfe, then with you.

Must.
Whēce grows this sudaine rage, thy gesture vtters,
These agonies, and furious blasphemies?
Is rage become the Lord of humane reason?
For rage doth shew, that reason is defaced,
When rage thus shews it selfe with reason graced.

Priest.
If thou hast felt thy selfe, accusing warre,
Where knowledge is, the endlesse hell of thought,
Where hope and feare in equall ballance are,
My state of minde is by the feeling taught:
For what dispaire the conscience doth feare,
My wounds bleed euer, for remorse they beare.

Must.
Remorse and pride in nature opposite:
The one makes errour great, the other small,
But rooted ill brings no remorse with it,
Iudge not thy selfe with troubled will at all:
But shew thy hart: when passions streames breake forth
Euen woes we wondred at, proue nothing worth.

Preist.
I haue offended nature, God, and thee,
My hart and soule, the seates of mischiefe bee.

Musta.
Of God, his mercy is the greatest power,
Nature is sweet, her wounds heale vp againe:
For me, tell how, and teach me to forgiue,
Which, he that cannot doe, knows not to liue.

Pr.
Forgiuenes is, to take away the cause,
It forceth God to plague, or breake his lawes.

Musta.
Forgiuenes is, to put away the wrongs,
At least, so much as to my selfe belongs.

Pr.
It is a praise to pardon, it is true,
But keepe me rather from vndoing you.

Musta.
What should I doe? tell me, I doe not feare,

Pr.
Preserue thy father with thy selfe and mee,
Else guiltie of each others death we be.

Musta.
Tell how.

Pr.
Thy father purposeth thy death,
I did aduise thou offredst vp thy breath.

Musta.
What haue I to my father done amisse?

Pr.
That wicked Rossæ thy stepmother is.

Musta.
Wherein of Rossa, haue I ill deserued?

Pr.
In that the Empire is for thee preserued.

Musta.
I cannot choose but be my fathers sonne,
As bold ambition, which like water-flouds,
Not channell-bound, doth neighbours ouer-runne,
And growest nothing, when thy rage is done.
Is vertue bought and sold for loue of good?
Must Zangers rising from my fall be wonne?
Poore Zanger I acquire thee of my blood:
For I beleeue thy hart hath no impression.
To ruine Mustapha of his possession,
Yet tell what they against me vse,
My fathers loue which way first did they wound?

Pr.
Of treason towards him they thee accuse,
Thy fame and greatnes giues their malice ground.

Musta.
Good world, where it is danger to be good,
Where guilty people shall liue in good name,
The guiltlesse onely, liue and die in shame:
Shew me the truth, to what lawes am I bound?

Priest.
No man commanded is by God to die,
As long as he may persecution flie.

Must.
To flie, were to condemne my selfe and friends
To honour those, that would dishonor me:
To ruine those, that should my succour be,
Death do thy worst, thy longest paines haue end.
Besides, where can man hide those coward feares,
But feares and hopes of powers will them reueale?
For kings haue many tongues and many eares.
Mischiefe is like the Cockatrices eyes;
Sees first and kils, or is seene first and dies.
He that himselfe defending, doth offend,
Breakes not the law, nor needs not be forgiuen.
Duty doth end, when kings do go astray,
Misguided by their owne or others will:
For disobedience is, when it doth light
To hurt, but duty, when vs'd as a presse,
It sets a princes crooked humors right.

Priest.
Vse not thy strength to shed thy fathers blood,
But vse thy strength to do thy father good.
Rossa, while she attends to ruine thee,
Makes Soliman against his state to sinne.
Take armes against her, do thy father free,
Translating heires doth oft bring ruine in,
And since euen vice, by good successe, seemes good,
Good fortune will make vertue vnderstood.

Must.
O false and wicked colours of desire,
Eternall bondage vnto him, that seekes
To be possest of all things that he likes.
Shall I, a sonne and subiect, seeme to dare
For Princes sake to set the realme on fire?
Which golden titles to rebellion are,
It is not feare of death, which ioyes to dye,
They feare death, that from death to mischiefe flie.
If I be kild, I do not ill, but suffer,
It is no paine to die, for children do it,
It is no grace to liue, the wicked haue it:
Let children cry, and slaues do ill for feare,
Death is not strange to men, why then repine we?
Death is of force to man, to what end striue we?
Obedience goes vpright, the stubborne fall,
God burnes his rods, but we must suffer all.
Euen you haue told me, wealth was giuen
The wicked, to corrupt themselues and others.
Greatnesse and health do make flesh proud and cruell,
Where with the good, sicknesse mowes downe desire,
Death glorifies, misfortune humbles,
Sorrow seekes peace of God, sinne yeelds repentance:
Since therefore life is but the throne of danger,
Where sicknes, paine, desire, and feare inherit,
Soonest escapt from him, that holds it dearest,
Euen of men the least worth, the most beloued,
A double death to them that hold it so,
And hauing nothing else must it forgo:
Should I, that know the destinie of life,
Do that, to liue, that doth his honor life?
My innocency bids me not to feare,
My loue and duty for a father looke:
Worthines he shewes, that can misfortune beare,
The heart doth iudge of vertue, not the booke:
I know my strength and in my strength resolue,
To do that, wicked men may thinke me weake,
And now that all the world knowes I might liue,
That power vnto my father I freely giue.

Priest.
Wilt thou both kill thy selfe, and be the cause
Thy father may offend Gods holy lawes:
The world knowes cowards kill themselues for feare.
First let thy father know he doth thee wrong,
They often bide death, that cannot danger bide;
And in these duties afterwards be strong.

Must.
Tempt me no more, good will is then a paine,
When her words beat the heart, and cannot enter,
I constant in my counsell doe remaine,
And more liues for my life will not aduenter.
Deere Rossa doe thou for my sake still liue,
By thee my father may repent my fall,
When thy heart of my truth shall witnesse giue:
Stay thou, till time and destinie doe call,
Warne Acmat and Camena they aduise,
Least they like rage that doth her owne selfe beate,
Seeking to helpe, or to preuent my fall,
Ruine themselues, while they for me intreat.
My life in your liues I shall thinke preserued,
When you know, I haue worse then I deserued.
Come let vs goe, for kindnesse doth betray,
The heart, that firmely on it selfe doth stay.

Chorus Tartarorum.