University of Virginia Library

Scæna I.

Enter at one doore Amurath, with attendants; at the other doore Aladin, his Wife, two Children, all in white sheets, kneele downe to Amurath.
Amur.
Our hate must not part thus, Ile tell thee (Prince)
That thou hast kindled violent Ætna in our brest,
And such a flame is quencht with nought but blood:
His bloud whose hasty and rebellious blast,
Gave life unto the fire; should Heaven threat us;
Knowes we dare not menace it; are we not Amurath?
(Whose awfull name is even trembled at)
So often dar'd by Pigmy Christians;
Which we will crush to ayre; what haughty thought
Buzz'd thy præsumptuous eares with such vain blasts,
To puffe thee into such impetuous acts?
Or what, durst prompt thee with a thought so fraile,
As made thee covetous of so brave a death?
As this known hand should cause it? know that throat
Shall feele it strangled with some slave brought up
To nought but an Hangman: thy last breath,
Torne from thee by a hand that's worse than death

Alad.
Why then, Ile (like the Roman Pompey) hide
My dying sight, scorning Imperious lookes
Should grace so base a stroake with sad aspect;
Thus will I muffle up and choake my groanes,
Least a griev'd teare should quite put out the name,
Of lasting courage in Carmanias fame.

Am.
What? still stiffe necked? Is this the truce you beg?
Sprinkled before thy face those Rebell Brats,
Shall have their braines, and their dissected limbes,
Hurld for a prey to Kites; for (Lords) 'tis fit
No sparke of such a Mountaine threatning fire,
Be left as unextinct, least it devoure,
And prove more hot unto the Turkish Emperie,
Then the Promithean blaze did trouble Iove!
First sacrifice those Brats—

All. Wife.
(Deare father) let thy fury rush on me!
Within these entrailes sheath thine unsatiate sword,
And let this ominous, and too fruitfull wombe,
Be torne in sunder? For from thence those Babes,
Tooke all their crimes; error made them guilty,
'Twas Natures fault, not theirs; O if affection
Can worke then; now shew a true Fathers Love,
If not, appease those murdering thoughts with me:
For as Jocasta pleaded with her sonnes
For their deare Father, so to a Father I
For my deare Babes and husband; husband, father.
Which shall I first embrace? Victorious father,
Be blunt those now sharpe thoughts! lay downe those threats,
Vnclaspe that impious Helmet! fixe to earth
That monumentall Spheare looke on thy child
With pardoning lookes, not with a Warriers eye:
Else shall my brest cover my husbands brest,
And serve as Buckler to receive thy wounds,
Why dost thou doubt? Fearest thou thy Daughters faith?

Amur.
I feare, for after Daughters perjurie
All Lawes of Natures shall distastfull be;
Nor will I trust thy children or thy selfe.

All. Wife.
No Father 'tis I, feare you him, he you,
I both, but for you both, for both you warre;
So that 'tis best with him that's overcome.
O let me kisse (kind father) first the Earth
On which you tread, then kisse mine husbands cheeke.
Great King embrace these Babes! you are the stocke
On which these Grafts were planted—

Am.
True, and when sprouts doe rob the tree of sap,
They must be prun'd,

Wife.
Deare Father, leave such harsh similitudes!
By my deceased Mother, (to whose wombe
I was a ten months burden:) By your selfe,
(To whom I was a pleasing Infant once)
Pitty my husband, and these tender Infants!

Am.
Yes to have them collect a manly strength,
And their first lesson that their Dad shall teach them
Shall be to read my misery.

Al.
Sterne Conqueror: but that thy daughter shews,
There once dwelt good in that obdurate brest,
I would not spend a teare to soften thee!
Thou seest my Countries turn'd into a Grave:
My Cities scarre the Sunne with fiercer flames,
Which turne them into ashes! all my selfe
So slickt and carved, that my amazed blood
Knowes not through which wound first to take it's way;
If not on me, have mercy on my Babes!—
Which, with thy mercy thou mayst turne to Love.

Amurath.
No sir, we must root out malitious seed:
Nothing sproutes faster, then an envious weed!
We see a little Bullocke, 'mongst an heard
(Whose hornes are yet scarce crept from out his front)
Growes on a suddaine tall, and in the Fields,
Frolicks so much, he makes his Father yeild.
A little twig left budding on an Elme
(Vngratefully) barres his mother sight from Heaven!
I love not future Aladins.

Alad.
Threat all a Conquerour can, canst threat but death,
And I can die, but if thou wouldst have mercy!—

Wife.
O see you feete we're prou'd with this hands kisse!
The higher those great powers have rais'd you,
Presse that which lyes below with gentler weight:
To pardon miseries is Fortunes height:
Alas, these Infants, these weake sinewed hands
Can be no terror to these Hectors armes!
Beg (Infants) beg, and teach these tender joynt's
To aske for mercy; learne your lisping tongues
To giue due accent to each syllable:
Nothing that Fortune urgeth too, is base;
Put from your thoughts all memory of discent:
Forget the Princely titles of your fathers:
If your owne misery you can feele,
Learne thus of me to weepe, of me to kneele!

Al.
Doe (boyes) and imitate your Parents teares,
Which I (like Priam) shed, when he beheld,
Hector thrice dragg'd about the Trojan Walles.
He that burst ope the gates of Erebus,
And rouz'd the yelling Monster from his Den,
Was conquer'd with a teare! great Monarch learne,
To know how deare a King doth weeping earne.

1. Ch.
Good Grandsire see, see how my father cries!

2. Ch.
Good mother take my napkin for your eyes!

Wife.
(Good father) heare, heare how thy daughter prayes:
Thou that know'st how to use sterne Warriers armes,
Learne how to use mild Warriers pitty too!
Alas? can ere these ungrowne strengths repaire
Their Fathers battered Cities? Or can these
These orethrowne Turrets? (Jconium) what small hopes
Hast thou to leane upon? If these be all?
Not halfe so mild hath our misfortune beene
That any can ere feare us: Be pleased—

Am.
Rise (my deere child) as Marble against raine,
So I at these obedient showers, melt!
Thus I doe raise thy husband: thus thy Babes:
Freely admitting you to former state.
But Aladin, wake not our wrath againe!
“Patience growes fury that is often stirred;
When Conquerours waxe calme, and cease to hate,
The conquered should not dare to reiterate.
Be thou our sonne and friend.

Alad.
By all the rites of Mahomet I vow it!

Am.
Then for to seale unto our love,
Your selfe shall leade a wing in Servia,
In our immediate Warres, we are to meet
The Christians in Cassanoe's Plaines with speed:
Great Amurath nere had time to breath himselfe:
So much, as to have warring with new foes;
No day securely to his Scepter shone,
But one Warres end, still brought another on.

Exeunt.