 | The tragedy of Mvstapha |  |
Actvs II.
Scena I.
Camenaalone.
They that from youth do sucke at Fortunes brest,
And nurse their empty heart with seeking higher,
Like dropsie fed their thirst, do neuer rest,
For still begetting, they beget desire;
And thoughts like wood, while they maintaine the flame
Of high desires, grow ashes in the same:
But Vertue, those that can behold thy beauties,
Those that sucke from their youth the milke of goodnes,
Their mindes grow strong against the stormes of fortune,
Like rockes in seas; which in the goodly weather,
Giue rest to birds, that in their courses wander,
And in the stormes standfast, themselues vnshaken,
Though ruines oft vnto desire mistaken.
O vertue! whose thrall I thinke fortune,
Thou who despisest not the sexe of women
Helpe, and out of the riddles of any fortune,
Whereon (me thinkes) you with your selfe depose me;
Let Fate goe on, sweet vertue doe not loose me,
My mother and my husband haue conspired
For brothers good the ruine of my brother,
My father by my mother is inspired
For one child to seeke the ruine of the other.
I that to helpe by nature am required,
While I do helpe must needes still hurt a brother,
While I see who conspires, I seeme conspired
Against a husband, father and a mother.
Truth bids me runne, by truth I am retired,
Shame leades me both the one way and the other:
With danger and dishonour I am hired
To doe against a husband and a mother:
In what a labyrinth is honour cast,
Drawne diuers waies with Sexe, with Time and State,
In all which, errors course is infinite,
By hope by feare, by spite, by loue, by hate;
A thorny way, where payne must be the guide,
Danger the light, offence of power, the praise;
Such are the golden hopes of Iron daies.
Yet, honor, I am thine, for thy sake sorry,
Since base hearts, for their base ill-plac'd desires,
In shame, in danger, death and torments glory,
That I cannot with more paynes write thy story.
And Fortune, if thou scorn'st those that scorne thee;
Shame if thou doe hate those, that force thy trumpet
To sound aloud, and yet despise thy sounding;
Lawes, if you loue not those that be examples
Of natures lawes, whence you are fallen corrupted;
Conspire, that I against you all conspired,
Ioyned with tyrant vertue (as you call her.)
That I, by your reuenges may be named
For vertue to be ruin'd and defamed.
My mother oft and diuersly I warned
What fortunes were vpon such courses builded,
That Fortune still might be with child with mischiefe,
Which is both borne and nourisht out of mischiefe:
I told her, that euen as the silly Doue
Seeld vp with her owne lids, to seeke the light,
Still coueteth vnto the heights aboue,
Till fallen, she feeles, the lacke was in her sight,
So man, benighted with his owne selfe-loue,
Still creepeth to the rude imbracing night
Of Princes grace, a lease of glories let,
Which shining, burnes, breeds Syrens, where it's set.
And by this creature of my mothers making,
This messenger, I Mustapha haue warned,
That Innocence is not enough to saue
Where good and greatnesse feare and enuy haue.
Till now, in reuerence I haue forborne
To aske, or to presume to gesse or know
My fathers thoughts, whereof he might thinke scorne:
For dreadful is that State; which all may doe.
Yet they that all men feare, are fearefull too.
That what thou seekest, may accomplisht be.
Scena II.
Solyman and Camæna.Soly.
Vilde death, is not thy selfe sufficient anguish,
But thou must borrow feare; the threatning glasse,
Which while it goodnes hides, and mischiefe showes;
It lightens wit, to honors ouerthrow.
But husht, me thinkes away Camena steales;
Murther belike in me her selfe reueales,
Camena whither now? why haste you from me?
Is it so strange a thing to be a father?
Cam.
My Lord, me thought; nay sure I saw you busie,
Your child vncald presumes, that comes to you.
Solym.
Who may presume with fathers, but their owne?
Whome Natures law hath euer in protection,
And guides in good beliefe of deare affection,
To make it greater, and the better known.
Cam.
Nay, reuerence childrens worthes do closest hide,
As of the Father it is least espied.
Solym.
I thinke, who euer know their children least
Haue greatest reason for to loue them best.
Cam.
How so my Lord? since loue doth knowledge shew,
And Babes their parents by their kindnes know.
Solym.
The life we gaue them, they do soone forget,
While they thinke our liues do their fortunes let.
Cam.
The Father sees his image in the sonne,
Soly.
But streames backe to their springs, do neuer runne.
Cam.
Pardon my Lord, doubt is successions shrow,
Let not her spight poore children ouerthrow;
Though streames from springs do seeme to runne away,
Ti's Nature leades them to their mother Sea.
Sol.
Doth nature teach vs by the Fathers death
To seeke his throne, by whome we haue our breath?
Cam.
Things easie, to desire, do seeme impossible.
Solym.
Monsters yet be, and being are beleeued.
Cam.
Monsters not seene, are monstrously beleeued.
Pardon me Sir, if duty doe seeme angry;
I am your child; these common blots of children,
Doe reach indeed, I do not know how neere me,
Solym.
Neere thee indeed, for you had both one Father.
Cam.
My gracious Lord, if you were not my Father;
Nature would much repine at such a staine;
But Sir, by that you owe me as a father,
Thinke well of them, wherein your selfe remaine;
Borrow not iealousie of Princes state,
To warrant you, that you may children hate.
Solym.
Mustapha is euen he, that thus hath stained
Nature with bloud, and loue with bloody malice;
He thought it long, that I thus long haue raigned,
He that at once deuis'd, that all at once should die;
Rosten and Rossa, Zanger, thou and I.
Cam.
Far be it off, that this should be found true,
Can hope of all the world be thus deceiued?
Sweet Mustapha doth Nature lie in you?
Sir, these be Greatnes mists; be not deceiued;
For Kings hate in their fearefull waining state,
And easily doubt, and what they doubt, they hate.
Then Parasites that haunt their Princes Grace
Know, deprauation hath a pleasing face.
Soly.
Camena, thy soft youth that knowes not ill,
Whose Aprill thoughts yeeldes showres of sweet good will,
Cannot beleeue the Elder, when they say,
That good beliefe, is greatest States decay:
Wisedome was neuer borne before her time,
Mans wit and nature, youths Horizon are;
Perchance experience vnto more may clime,
Let it suffice, that I and Rossa too,
Are priuy what your brother meanes to doe;
Cam.
O pardon me (dread Sir) and as a Father,
What I shall say, speaking it of a mother,
Know I do say it but to right a brother.
Whose many eyes whilst but it selfe they see,
Each one to other formes of ruine bee:
Out of this feare she Mustapha accused,
Vnto this feare (perchance) she ioynes the loue
Which doth in mothers for their children moue.
Perhaps, when feare hath showne how yours must fall,
In loue she sees, how hers must rise withall.
Sir, feare and frailty haue, and may haue grace,
And our care of your good may not be blamed,
Care of our owne in Nature hath a place,
Passions haue oft mistaken and misnamed,
Yet God forbid, that either feare or care,
Should ruine those that true and faithfull are.
Soly.
Is it no fault, or fault I may forgiue?
For sonne to seeke the father should not liue.
Cam.
Is it a fault, or fault for you to know?
My mother doubts a thing that is not so:
O strange vnhappines of highest roome,
Which thinking opposition derogates
From Maiesty, they ioy to ouercome
The truth with selfe-loue, teaching flattery,
How to impostume power with proud accesse:
But pardon me my Lord, admit it so,
That Mustapha in wanton youthes conceit,
Had wandred from the course he ought to goe;
Yet thinke what frailty is, and what the baite,
For priuate men, which here below obey,
Beholding outward pompe of Maiesty,
And vnacquainted with Kings inward care,
Like Satyres thinke the fire, as sweet as faire,
And burne with grasping their beloued aire:
But Sir, the Gods whome Kings should imitate,
Haue plac'd you high, to rule, not ouerthrow,
For as, not for yourselues is your estate,
Mercy must hand in hand with power goe.
Your sword should not strike with the arme of feare,
Which fadoms all mens imbecilitie.
As reason deales within with frailty,
Which kils not passions that rebellious are,
But addes, substracts: keepe downe ambitious spirits
With hard examples: no, with truth and care;
So must power warne, and threaten ere it light.
A point there is, whereat each heart must stay,
All men may couet all, few all can doe;
The worst and best, are both like heard, and care
For flesh and bloud, the meanes twixt heauen and hell,
To thse extreames extreamely packed are.
Martyrs few men can be, euen for the good,
As few can seale their mischiefe with their bloud.
The Princes wisedome, and his office this,
To see from whence, how farre each one can moue,
To What, what each mans God and Deuill is,
Iudging and handling frailty with loue:
For ignorance begetteth cruelty,
Misthinking each man, euery thing can be;
The best may fall, the worst that is may mend;
You hedge in time, and doe prescribe to God
Where safety, nor amendment you intend,
The last of all corrections, is the rodde,
And Kings that circle in themselues with death,
Poyson the aire wherein they take their breath;
Pardon my Lord, pitty becomes my sexe,
And if I speake this from the common sense,
Ti's natures truth, it pleades her owne defence.
Solym.
If what were best for them that doe offend
Lawes did enquire, the answere must be grace;
If mercy be so large, wher's Iustice place?
Cam.
Where loue dispaires, & where Gods power hath end;
For mercy is the highest reach of wit,
A safety vnto them, that saue with it;
Borne out of God, and vnto humaine eyes
Like God, not seene, till fleshly passion dies.
Solym.
God may forgiue, whose being, and whose harmes
Are farre remou'd from reach of fleshly armes,
Euen God of safe reuenges would be glad.
Cam.
Who knowes if made a Lambe, what he would be,
Much lesse his flesh of heauenly councels free.
While he is yet aliue he may be slaine,
But from the dead no flesh comes backe againe,
Solym.
While he remaines aliue, I liue in feare.
Cam.
Though he were dead that doubt still liuing were.
Solym.
None hath the power to end what he begunne.
Cam.
The same occasion followes euery Sonne.
Solym.
Their greatnesse, or their worth is not so much.
Cam.
And shall the best be slaine for being such.
Solym.
Thy mother, and thy brother be amisse,
I am betrayed, and one of them it is.
Cam.
My Mother (if shee err's) err's vertuously,
And let her erre, e're Mustapha should die.
Kings for their safetie must not blame mistrust,
Nor for surmise must Kings destroy the iust.
Solym.
Well deare Camena, keepe this secretly,
I will be well aduis'd before he die.
Scena III.
Rossa. Rosten.Rossa.
O werisome obedience, I despise thee;
Must I'm vaine be Mustaphas accuser?
Sands shalbe numbred first, Time shalbe constant,
The Sea shall yeeld his channell to the fire,
The Earth shall beare the Heauen within his Center,
Eternitie shall die, Nature be Idle.
E're my delights or will shall stand in awe
Of God or Nature, common peoples lawe.
Roste.
Rossa, what meaneth this vnquiet motion?
Gouerne your thoughts: what want you to content you
That haue the King of Kings at your deuotion?
Rossa.
Content? poore wit and poore promotion,
The helme of princes greatnesse is their will,
That for my feare of Prince, and Princes ill,
Am brought in question both of state and fame,
Must loose my will, and cannot loose my shame?
What night? what cloudes? what shades of soules condemned?
What darknes in the gulph of darkenes?
So darke are fathers thoughts, with kindnes blinded.
What lightnings flash from cloudes with child with fire?
As thoughts possest alike with feare and kindnes:
Mustapha long since condemn'd to die,
Now liues againe.
To boast of mariage, what true ground haue I?
The streames are choakt of Solymans affection,
Where Fortune did of old, make her election.
Rosten.
Thinke not too much, for thoughts that be offended
Are seldome with their present counsailes mended.
Rossa.
From Heauen to earth I will leaue nothing
Vnthought, vnsought for, or not vndertaken:
Vertue, nor vice shall in themselues haue nothing;
Auernus bottoms shall not be forsaken,
Rather then my Lords loue shall growe to nothing:
Vertue is cold, not fit to be beloued,
That with the losse of Fortune is not moued.
Rosten.
Vertue leades not herselfe for hope or feare,
Vnquiet rage doth misaduenture fashion
Nothing at all, it weakenesse is to beare;
Passion shall multiply more cause of passion:
Rossa, take heed, Honour is very brittle,
And broken once, neuer to be repaired,
And honour lost, mankind hath lost his fashion;
Honour and shame are slaues to them that prosper.
Ross.
One signe that humaine worth with power is raised,
Is, that Kings do to make their doings praised.
Rosten.
Who forceth man, is fear'd, but not beloued,
Praises of feare are tyranous dispraises.
Rossa.
Praises for feare do shew that we are great,
Who seeke for loue, and may commaund a feare,
Are sitter to clime vp, then tarry there.
And with my Lord, his ruine vndertaken,
Now liue in this life, to behold my fall:
Our credit with our Soueraigne is our honor,
And ere thou suffer that to haue despight,
Thinke Innocencie harme, vertue dishonour:
Wound truth, and ouerthrow the state of right.
Sexes haue vertues apart, States haue there fashions
The vertues of authority are passions,
But stay; looke where our messenger returneth.
Scena. IIII.
Rossa, Rosten, Belyarby Nuntius.Beliar.
Rossa and Rosten while you stand debating,
The ioyes are fortunes of your priuate fortune.
Rossa.
Rosten make haste, goe hence, and carrie with thee
My life, my fame, desire and my fortune.
You vgly Angels of infernall Kingdome,
You spirits resolute to dwell in darknesse,
You who haue vertuously maintain'd your being
In equall power, like riualls to the heauens:
If as they say (who say it for reproch)
You are at hand to those that on you call,
Refusing none but such as doe refuse you,
Reuenge your selues of this false title, vertue:
This vertue which hath sildome beene assailed
By you; but she hath still her seruants failed:
My shame, my feare, my loue I offer to you,
Let me raigne while I liue, in my desires,
Or dead, liue with you in eternall fires.
Rossa, doing not praying merits heauen or hell:
Mischiefes doe rise, and set themselues against thee,
Misfortune hath euen now conspired thy ruine;
Intreat no enemies, for they forgiue not,
But humble thou thy selfe vnto the heauens.
I feare to tell, I tremble to conceale it,
I would, yet would I not, I durst reueale it.
Fortune, vnto the death is then displeased,
When remedies doe ruine her diseased.
Rost.
Vse not these parables of coward feare,
Feare hurts lesse when it strikes, then when it threatens,
If Mustapha shall liue, all feare is fallen,
Danger lighted, desire lost, hope banisht;
If Mustapha shall die, then feare from hope,
Losse from desire, danger and paine are vanisht.
Bel.
If Mustapha shall die, his death miscarries
Part of thy End, thy Fame, thy Friends, thy Ioyes,
No man to hurt his foes, his friends destroyes.
Ross.
Friends? who are they, but those that serue desire?
My Gods, my Friends, my Father and my Mother
Are but those steps, that helpe me to aspire.
Duty and loue tooke knowledge of no other;
Let me and all the world with him be slaine,
I will not wish to be aliue againe.
But tell what is the worst.
Bel.
Aske not in rage, rage brings it selfe to woe.
Vnlesse the wings whereon it flies be slow.
Ross.
I charge you tell me, how I am fortune-bound,
That if I harme him, I my selfe confound.
Bel.
Camæna must with him a traytor be,
Or Mustapha for her sake must be free.
Ross.
O cruell Fates, that doe in loue plant woe,
And in delight make our despaires to grow:
But speake, what hath she done?
Bel.
Vndone thy doing:
Discouered vnto Mustapha his danger,
Vertues sweete fame with loue of mercy wooing;
And great suspitions from these relicks grow,
That what she knowes, both Sonne and Father know.
I that am yours, durst not make you a stranger,
And yet was loth with duty to offend,
In childrens faults, a mothers wisdome showes.
Loues perfect tryall is in flame of anger;
That your belou'd Camæna perish not.
Rossa.
Nay, pale Auernus I doe so adore thee,
As I lament my wombe hath bin so barren,
To yeeld but one to offer vp before thee:
Who thinkes the daughter harme, can mother stay
From end, whereon a mothers heart is set,
Knowes not wisedome, wickednesse beget:
Boldnesse in malice dazels humane reason.
Camæna thy false blood shall doe me right.
Bel.
Rossa, is rage so mad, as to imagine
It masters heauen?
Rossa.
Is rage so mad,
As it will stay reuenge to hope for heauen?
Where ages are but houres.
Bel.
Is wrath so cruell?
Are lawes of loue so soone forgotten?
Is mercy dead?
Ross.
Would you haue wrath so foolish
As it should stay vntill it be abused?
Is Nature vnder such fond lawes begotten,
As Loue must giue it selfe to be abused?
Bel.
Yet by the Loue of mothers to their children,
By all the paines of trauell with your children,
Punish, but spare the life of faulty children.
Life may amend and well deceiue an other,
Death doth but cut off one, to warne an other.
Ross.
I doe protest before you spirits infernall,
That gouerne in your darknes vniform'd,
By all your plagues and miseries eternall,
By all your vgly shapes, and soules transform'd,
Neither to haue bin made a heauenly Angell,
Honour'd aliue, and after this life famous,
Would I loue of my children haue disclaymed:
But since by her my life is brought in question,
Since she is out of daughters duty gotten,
My mothers tender care shall be forgotten.
They still that haue good will to kill, or perish,
Camæna, then since thy desires would make
Thy mothers harme examples of thy glory,
Since thou do'st leaue me for a brothers sake,
Since thy heart feeles not what makes others sorry,
Thy triumphe shall bee death, thy glory shame,
For so die they that wrong a mothers name;
Thy treasures with thine owne arts are discarded;
I will do something not to be forgotten,
The giuers of examples are regarded.
CHORUS.
| The tragedy of Mvstapha | |