 | The Sophy |  |
1
Actus Primus.
[Scena Prima.]
Enter Abdall and Moratt.Mor.
My Lord, you have good intelligence, what newes.
From the Army, any certainty
Of their designe or strength?
Abd.
We know not their designe: But for their strength,
The disproportion is so great, we cannot, but
Expect a fatall consequence.
Mor.
How great my Lord?
Abd.
The Turkes are fourescore thousand Foot,
And fiftie thousand Horse. And we in the whole
Exceed not forty thousand.
Mor.
Mee-thinkes the Prince should know
That Judgement's more essentiall to a Generall,
Then Courage, if he prove victorious
'Tis but a happie rashnesse.
Abd.
But if he lose the battaile, 'tis an error
Beyond excuse, or remedy, considering
That halfe the lesser Asia will follow
The Victors fortune.
Mor.
'Tis his single vertue
And terror of his name, that walls us in
From danger, were he lost, the naked Empire
Would be a prey expos'd to all Invaders.
Abd.
But is't not necessary
The King should know his danger?
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To tell him of so great a danger,
Were but to draw a greater on our selves:
For though his eye is open as the mornings,
Towards lusts and pleasures, yet so fast a lethargie
Has seiz'd his powers towards publike cares and dangers
He sleepes like death.
Abd.
Hee's a man of that strange composition,
Made up of all the worst extremities
Of youth, and age.
Mor.
And though
He feeles the heats of youth, and colds of age,
Yet neither tempers, nor corrects the other;
As if there were an Ague in his nature
That still inclines to one extreame.
Abd.
But the Caliph, or Haly, or some that know
His softer houres, might best acquaint him with it.
Mor.
Alas, they shew him nothing
But in the glasse of flatterie, if any thing
May beare a shew of glory, fame, or greatnesse,
'Tis multiplyed to an immense quantitie,
And stretch't even to Divinitie:
But if it tend to danger, or dishonour,
They turne about the Perspective, and shew it
So little, at such distance, so like nothing,
That he can scarce discerne it.
Abd.
'Tis the fate of Princes, that no knowledge
Comes pure to them, but passing through the eyes
And eares of other men, it takes a tincture
From every channell; And still beares a rellish
Of Flatterie, or private ends.
Mor.
But danger and necessitie
Dare speake the truth.
Abd.
But commonly
They speake not till it is too late:
And for Haly,
He that shall tell him of the Princes danger,
But tells him that himselfe is safe.
Scæna Secunda.
Enter King, Princesse, and Solyman.King.
Cleare up, cleare up, sweet Erythæa,
That cloud that hangs upon thy brow presages
A greater storme then all the Turkish power
Can throw upon us, me-thinkes I see my fortune
Setling her looks by thine, and in thy smile
3
Why should not hope
As much erect our thoughts, as feare deject them;
Why should we
Anticipate our sorrowes? 'Tis like those
That die for feare of death:
What is't you doubt, his courage or his fortune?
Princesse.
Envy it selfe could never doubt his courage.
King.
Then let not love doe worse, by doubting that
Which is but valours slave; a wise well-temper'd valour,
For such is his, those Gyants death, and danger,
Are but his Ministers, and serve a Master
More to be fear'd then they; and the blinde Goddesse
Is led amongst the Captives in his triumph.
Princesse.
I had rather she had eyes, for if she saw him,
Sure she would love him better; but admit
Shee were at once a Goddesse, and his slave,
Yet fortune, valour, all is overborne
By numbers: as the long resisting Banke
By the impetuous Torrent.
King.
That's but rumour,
Ne're did the Turke invade our Territory,
But Fame and Terrour doubled still their files:
But when our troopes encountred, then we found
Scarce a sufficient matter for our fury.
But heark, a Post, Solyman conduct him in,
A Horne within.
'Tis surely from the Prince.
Enter Post, and delivers a Letter.
King.
Give it our Secretaries, I hope the Prince is well.
Post.
The Letter will informe you.
(A Messenger.
Mess.
Sir, the Lords attend you.
Ex. Princesse. Enter Lords.
King.
What newes from the Army?
Lords.
Please you to heare the Letter.
King.
Reade it.
Lords.
The Turke enraged with his last yeares overthrow,
Hath re-enforc't his Army with the choice of all his Janizars,
And the flowre of his whole Empire, we
Understand by some fugitives, that he hath commanded
The Generalls to returne with victory, or expect
A shamefull death: what I shall further do,
(Their numbers five times exceeding ours)
I desire to receive directions from your Majesties command.
King.
Let twenty thousand men be raised.
Let fresh supplyes of victuals, and of money,
Be sent with speed.
Lords.
Sir, your Treasures
Are quite exhausted, the Exchequer's empty.
King.
Talke not to me of Treasures, or Exchequers,
4
Their shops and ships are my Exchequer.
Abd.
'Twere better you you could say their hearts.
Abd. aside.
Sir upon your late demands
They answered they were poore.
King.
Sure the Villaines hold a correspondence
With the enemie, and thus they would betray us:
First give us up to want, then to contempt,
And then to ruine; but tell those sonnes of earth
Ile have their money, or their heads.
Winde a horne.
'Tis my command, when such occasions are,
No Plea must serve, 'tis cruelty to spare.
Another Post.
Exit Lords.
King.
The Prince transported with his youthfull heat,
I feare hath gone too farre: 'Tis some disaster,
Or else he would not send so thicke: well, bring him in;
I am prepar'd to heare the worst of evils.
Enter Solyman and two Captaines.
Cap. kisses his hand.
King.
What, is the Prince besieged in his Trenches,
And must have speedy ayd, or die by famine;
Or hath he rashly try'd the chance of warre
And lost his Army, and his Liberty.
Tell me what Province they demand for ransome:
Or if the worst of all mishaps hath fallen,
Speake, for he could not die unlike himselfe:
Speak freely; and yet me-thinkes I reade
Something of better fortune in thy lookes,
But dare not hope it.
Cap.
Sir, the Prince lives.
King.
And hath not lost his honour?
Cap.
As safe in honour as in life.
King.
Nor liberty?
Cap.
Free as the aire, he breathes.
King.
Returne with speed:
Tell him he shall have money, victuals, men,
With all the haste they can be levyed.
Farewell.
Offers to goe.
Cap.
But Sir, I have one word more.
King.
Then be briefe.
Cap.
So now you are prepar'd, and I may venture.
King.
What is't?
Cap.
Sir, a Fathers love mixt with a Princes care.
This shewing dangers greater, and that nearer,
Have rais'd your feares too high; and those remov'd,
Too suddenly would let in such a deluge
Of joy, as might oppresse your aged spirits,
Which made me gently first remove your feares,
5
Your fill of joy: Your sonn's a Conquerour.
King.
Delude me not with fained hopes, false joyes,
It cannot be. And if he can but make
A faire Retreat, I shall account it more
Then all his former conquests, (those huge numbers
Arm'd with despaire) the flower of all the Empire.
Cap.
Sir, I have not us'd to tell you tales or fables,
And why should you suspect your happinesse,
Being so constant. On my life 'tis true Sir.
King.
Well, Ile no more suspect
My fortune, nor thy faith:
Thou and thy newes most welcome, Solyman
Goe call the Princesse and the Lords, they shall
Participate our joyes, as well as cares.
Enter Princesse and Lords.
King.
Faire daughter, blow away those mists and clouds,
And let thy eyes shine forth in their full lustre;
Invest them with thy loveliest smiles, put on
Thy choycest lookes: hee's comming will deserve them.
Princesse.
What, is the Prince return'd with safety? 'tis above
Beleefe or hope.
King.
I, sweet Erythæa,
Laden with spoyles and honour: all thy feares,
Thy wakefull terrors, and affrighting dreames,
Thy morning sighes, and evening teares have now
Their full rewards. And you my Lords
Prepare for Masques and Triumphs: Let no circumstance
Be wanting, that becomes
The greatnesse of our State, or Joy.
Behold he comes.
Enter Prince with Captaines, and two Captive Bashawes.
King.
Welcome brave sonne, as welcome to thy father
As Phæbus was to Iove, when he had slaine
Th'ambitious Gyants that assayl'd the skie;
And as my power resembles that of Ioves,
So shall thy glory like high Phœbus shine
As bright, and as immortall.
Prince.
Great Sir, all acquisition
Of Glory as of Empire, here I lay before
Your Royall feet, happy to be the Instrument
To advance either: Sir, I challenge nothing,
But am an humble suitor for these prisoners,
The late Commanders of the Turkish powers,
Whose valours have deserv'd a better fortune,
King.
Then what hath thine deserv'd; th'are thine brave Mirzah,
Worthy of all thy Royall Ancestors,
And all those many Kindomes, which their vertue,
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But daughter still your lookes are sad,
No longer Ile deferre your joyes, goe take him
Into thy chaste embrace, and whisper to him
That welcome which those blushes promise.
Exit King.
Prince.
My Erthæa, why entertain'st thou with so sad a brow
My long desir'd return, thou wast wont
With kisses and sweet smiles, to welcome home
My victories, though bought with sweat and bloud;
And long expected.
Princesse.
Pardon Sir,
'Tis with our soules
As with our eyes, that after a long darknesse
Are dazled at the approach of sudden light:
When i'th' midst of feares we are surpriz'd
With unexpected happinesse: the first
Degrees of joy are meere astonishment.
And 'twas so lately in a dreadfull dreame
I saw my Lord so neare destruction,
Deprived of his eyes, a wretched Captive;
Then shriekt my selfe awake, then slept againe
And dreamt the same; my ill presaging fancy
Suggesting still 'twas true.
Prince.
Then I forgive thy sadnesse, since love caus'd it,
For love is full of feares; and feare, the shadow
Of danger, like the shadow of our bodies,
Is greater then, when that which is the cause
Is farthest off.
Princesse.
But still there's something
That checks my joyes,
Nor can I yet distinguish
Which is the apparition, this, or that.
Prince.
An apparition?
At night I shall resolve that doubt, and make
Thy dreames more pleasing.
Enter Haly and Mirvan.
Mir.
The time has beene my Lord,
When I was no such stranger to your thoughts;
You were not wont to weare upon your brow
A frowne, or smile, but still have thought me worthy,
At least to know the cause.
Ha.
'Tis true,
Thy breast hath ever beene the Cabinet
Where I have lockt my secrets.
Mir.
And did you ever finde
That any art could picke the locke, or power
Could force it open.
Ha.
No, I have ever found thee
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That I am sad?
Mir.
Observ'd? 'tis all mens wonder and discourse,
That in a Joy so great, so universall,
You should not beare a part.
Ha.
Discour'st of too?
Mir.
Nothing but treason
More commonly, more boldly spoken.
So singular a sadnesse
Must have a cause as strange as the effect:
And griefe conceal'd, like hidden fire consumes;
Which flaming out, would call in helpe to quench it.
Ha.
But since thou canst not mend it,
To let thee know it will but make thee worse;
Silence and time shall cure it.
Mir.
But in diseases when the cause is knowne,
'Tis more then halfe the cure: You have my Lord
My heart to counsell, and my hand to act,
And my advice and actions both have met
Successe in things unlikely.
Ha.
But this
Is such a secret, I dare hardly trust it
To my owne soule. And though it be a crime,
In friendship to betray a trusted Counsell,
Yet to conceale this were a greater crime,
And of a higher nature.
Mir.
Now I know it,
And your endeavour to conceale it,
Speakes it more plainly. 'Tis some plot upon the Prince.
Ha.
Oh thou hast toucht my soare, and having searcht it,
Now heale it if thou canst: The Prince doth hate me,
Or loves me not, or loves another better,
Which is all one. This being knowne in Court,
Has rendred me despis'd, and scorn'd of all:
For I that in his absence
Blaz'd like a starre of the first magnitude,
Now in his brighter sun-shine am not seene:
No applications now, no troopes of suitors;
No power, no not so much as to doe mischiefe.
Mir.
My Lord, I am asham'd of you,
So ill a master in an art, so long
Profest, and practiz'd by you to be angry,
And angry with a Prince. And yet to shew it
In a sad looke, or womanish complaint:
How can you hope to compasse your designes,
And not dissemble 'em. Goe flatter and adore him,
Stand first among the crowd of his admirers.
Ha.
Oh I have often spread those nets, but he
Hath ever beene too wise to thinke them reall.
8
However,
Dissemble still, thanke him for all his injuries;
Take 'em for favours, if at last
You cannot gaine him; some pretty nimble poyson
May doe the feat. Or if he will abroad
Finde him some brave and honourable danger.
Ha.
Have I not found him out as many dangers
As Iuno did for Hercules: yet he returnes
Like Hercules, doubled in strength and honour.
Mir.
If danger cannot doe it, then trie pleasure,
Which when no other enemie survives,
Still conquers all the Conquerours. Endeavour
To soften his ambition into lust,
Contrive fit opportunities, and lay
Baytes for temptation.
Ha.
Ile leave nothing unattempted:
But sure this will not take, for all his Passions,
Affections, and Faculties are slaves
Onely to his ambition.
Mir.
Then let him fall by his owne greatnesse,
And puffe him up with glory, till it swell
And breake him. First, betray him to himselfe,
Then to his ruine: From his vertues suck a poyson,
As Spiders doe from flowers; praise him to his father,
You know his nature: Let the Princes glory
Seeme to ecclipse, and cast a cloud on his;
And let fall something that may raise his jealousie:
But least he should suspect it, draw it from him
As fishers doe the bayte, to make him follow it.
Ha.
But the old King is so suspitious.
Mir.
But withall
Most fearefull: He that viewes a Fort to take it
Plants his Artillerie 'gainst the weakest part:
Worke on his feares, till feare hath made him cruell;
And cruelty shall make him feare againe.
Me thinkes (my Lord) you that so oft have sounded
And fathom'd all his thoughts, that know the deeps
And shallowes of his heart, should need no instruments
To advance your ends, his passions, and his feares
Lye Liegers for you in his brest, and there
Negotiate their affaires.
Enter King, Solyman, and Lords to them.
King.
Solyman, be it your care to entertaine the Captaines
And the Prisoners, and use them kindly.
Sol.
Sir, I am not for entertainments now I am melancholy.
King.
What, griev'd for our good fortune?
Sol.
No Sir, but now the warres are, done, we want pretences
To put off Creditors: I am haunted Sir.
King.
Not with Ghosts.
Sol.
No Sir,
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King.
I know the cause, what is't thou ow'st them?
Sol.
Not much Sir, but so much, as spoyles me for a good fellow;
'Tis but 2000 Dollars. A small summe—to you Sir.
King.
Well, it shall be paid.
Sol.
Then if the Devill come for drinking, let me alone with him.
Well, Drinke, I love thee but too well already,
But I shall love thee better hereafter: I have often
Drunke my selfe into debt, but never out of debt till now.
Exeunt.
Finis Act. Primi.
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