University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

A Prison.
Moaron, reading.
Moar.
Content is Pilot to a happy State,
And 'tis a bliss to be unfortunate.
A rigid Text, yet Seneca was wise,
He taught men how disasters to despise,
To purge their lives from ill, and learn to die
By occult Reasons in Philosophy,
But had he lov'd like me, he had confest
No Hell like to a confin'd Lovers breast.
The branded wretch, that tugs the slavish Oar,
Spent with dispairs and wants controuling pow'r,
Yet still contented, lives in hopes to see
Once more the long wisht hour of Liberty:
But I, contemning my unhappy Stars,
Still waste my life in Labyrinths of Cares.

Enter Zelmura and Amasis at the door.
Zelm.
Yonder he sits, now boldly enter here
And from this place your words can reach my ear.

[Exit behind
Amas:
Hold now my heart,

Moar.
—Hah heavens, whats this I see,
Can prison walls shrowd such divinity!

Amas.
D'you, know me Sir?

Moar.
—Not yet, for Joyes extream
Perswades my fancy that I do but dream.

Amas.
Awake then and believe.

Moar.
Such was her hand,
[kising her hand
And such the sweetnesse that did first command,
And fetter my rough heart, my doubts are gone,
But tell me, Sweet, how came you thus alone?
How could you scape the guards and not beseen,
By cruel Spyes from the more cruel Queen?
Or did the Gods, Compassionating Love,
To yield me comfort, drop you from above.

Amas.
My coming was not at so strange a rate,
But from the entrance of the Castle gate.
Through all the guards I had a passage free,
Who void of doubts gave me this liberty.

Moar.
Unlookt for happinesse.

Amas.
—hold Sir, you shew
Too much of Joy, till you my businesse know.

Moar.
What businesse can you have, but to remove
Doubts that molest us and renew our Love.

Amas.
Grief ties my tongue, how shall I utter it.

[aside
Moar.
Silence, bright Soul, for Lovers is not fit.
Say, what ill news?

Amas.
—Aid me ye Deities:
Then breifly thus, our love with mutual ties
Of firm affection oft has dar'd our fate,
And thereby made us both unfortunate,
This makes me (conscious of what griefs arise
From wilful love, what plagues, what Miseries.)
As freind to your good fortune to request,
That you would change. I cannot speak the rest,
[aside
Love charms my utterancce and denies me power.

Zelm.
behind.
Do it, or do not hope to live an hour.

Moar.
To change my Love, how, do not give my sense
Cause to reprove such charming Excellence.
Your breath till now stand Roses in the bud,
The Western gales were not so sweet, so good,
But this request has soild your lustre so,
What was divine does now but mortal shew.

Amas.
Let not vain hopes too much beguile your Youth,
Our holy Prophet ne're spoke more truth,
For to make kind our future destiny,
You may suppress your love, and so must I.
Live happy therefore and past Joyes restore,
But from this moment never love me more.
'Tis out, and now shroud me some gloomy cloud.

[Exit.
Moar.
Such words the Gods durst not have spoke so loud.
Rend Earth i'th' midst, and split ye fatal Skies,
Whose Planets dare to appoint such prodigies.
To Caves immense let th'Ellements retire,
And mix together earth, air, sea, and fire,
Till mingled in confusion, all may be,
As first they were, in natures infancy:
For since this age, do's pristine ills surpass,
Oh happy Choas, where no falshood was,
A barb'rous Princess, who would beauty trust,
Who would believe in vertue or be just,
If vertue this allows in noble blood,
Vertue's a crime and vice it self is good,
The Gods themselves, if tamely this they see,
Are false and baser than mortallity.

Enter Zelmura.
Zelm.
What Demon Sir hath alter'd thus your fate,
I met my Sister at the Castle gate,
Fire darting from her eyes, her lovely face,
So chang'd with rage, it banisht all her grace;
Calling you base, perfidious, false, and then
Musing a while, she'd fall to Curse agen,
Such rapid frenzies posted from her breast,
I could no less then think she was possest,
For she methinks whom passion did so blind,
Might have found words more gentle and more kind,
But ignorance of the truth me hither draws,
To know the reason, and enquire the cause.

Moar.
The Cause, why Madam, 'dsdeath I cannot tell.
'Tis the same Cause that damns the souls in Hell,
A Heaven lost for want of loving well.

Zelm.
Come come, dissemble not, you slighted her,
That you to me your passion might prefer,
And though I'me haughty vassals, you
Shall find a temper that to Love is due,
If without more delayes you prove your bliss,
And your long closely smoother'd Love confess.

Moar.
What strange Chimera's, Madam, plague your mind,
Love you, by Heaven I hate all woman kind,
Not you alone, but all curst Crockadiles,
Ye couch damnation in seducing smiles,
I've lost my faith to think 'tis Heaven to Love,
My sense do's now i'th' contrary move,
For if a Hell there be, as it is said,
'Tis felt when highth of passion is delay'd.

Zelm.
Perhaps, you'r loth the Guard your words should hear,
Whisper, Sir, speak it softly in my ear,
Your merits soon will weigh the ballance down,
And make me cherish, what deserves a frown.

Moar.
Frown on your amorists, that causeless dote,
For by the Azure Heavens, I love you not,
To be your slave, I never did consent,
Nor need I whisper what I never meant.

Zelm.
Hah, never meant it, was it not for me
You slighted thus my sisters amity,
Could for meaner Causes faith remove,
Then th'happiness that still attends my Love,
'Tis contrary to reason, and you try
My utmost patience, if you this deny.

Moar.
D's death, Madam, do ye think I can be brought.
To cherish Passion, by perswasions wrought.
Bereav'd of reason that should crimes reprove,
Forc't to affect, and fool'd into a Love.
Your eyes my heart do rather freez than warm,
And your addresses rather vex than charm,
Fate makes me to despise, what you propound,
If this be Love, I have a Mortal wound.

Zelm.
Gods can I hear this tamely, die proud fool,
And with thy blood my boundless passion cool,

Goes to stab him, he wrests the Dagger from her.
Zelm.
Take it, and boast thou hast more strength than I,
But fixt it here, and see how I can die.

Moar.
No live, and o're such abject fate controul,
You merit it, you have a noble soul.

Zelm.
Oh, I could curse, but it will do no good,
And tear this burning fever from my blood,
But Love the prouder Tyrant conquers me.
Enter Ptollomy hastily.
Hah whence proceed these suddain new Alarms.

Moar.
Fate grant I guess aright.

Ptollo.
—To arms, to arms.
The Potent Syrians with a mighty host,
Are past resistance landed on our Coast,
The City trembles, and the factions swarm,
And with their uncurb'd shouts, augment th'alarm.
Use some swift means, great Queen, to stinct this strife,
Least the unruly tumult seek your Life.

Zelm.
Curse on the faithless slaves; but art thou sure
The troops approaching are the Syrian power.

Ptollo.
Our Messengers affirm it, and we may
From Turrets easily discern 'tis they.

Zelm.
They'r welcome, and they'r coming do's produce,
In me much Joy, my rusting sword wants use,
All low thoughts vanish now to empty air,
I will no leasure for dull passion spare,
War may perhaps from my brave heart remove,
The agony of this tempestious Love,
Whilst my heroick fate once known before,
Shall guide my sword to conquer 'em once more.

Moar.
This happy news do's with my wish comply,
And gives me present hopes of liberty.

Enter Achmades, Phillopater, Zichmi.
Achm.
The foe's already come so near, that we
From our high towers may their banners see,
The people trembling with a suddain fright,
Run through the streets and Curse the fatal light,
But th'factions I have with perswasions wrought,
And in good order to the Pallace brought,
Your presence, Madam, their mistrusts will clear,
And make them dare the foe they late did fear.

Zelm.
That satisfaction they shall reap from me.
I knew they durst not long perfidious be,
My breath can lift 'em up or cast 'em down,
Save with a smile, or Martyr with a frown,
Go, and with speed draw up the Cavalry,
[to Achm.
And in Battalia place the infantry,
[Exit Achm.
Possess their minds with hopes of great reward,
And cull the choicest soldiers for my guard,
[to Phillopater.
You to your charge, and Ptollomy take care
[Exit Phillopater.
There be no tumult, that may stint the war,
Zichmi thy faith so noble hath been shewn,
In the defence of my exalted Throne.
That to thy guard my sister I resign,
Be careful, and close pris'ner her confine,
Till you my Signet for her freedome see.

Zichmi.
I'le not dispute, but act your great decree.

[Exit.
Zelm.
And now one act of honour I'le do more,
And therefore Sir your liberty restore,
Lead on your troops, brave Prince, nay all thanks spare,
Meet me i'th' Army's head, and thank me there,
You cannot braver gratitude afford,
Then nobly there to thank me with your Sword,
Charm me Belona with thy chiefest good,
And to meet fame I'le swim o're Seas of blood,
Contemn black danger with a threatning breath,
And Grasp at honour in the jaws of Death.

[Exeunt Queen and Ptollomy.
Moar.
Gods, what a soul do's that weak fabrick hold,
Such courage ill befits so frail a mould,
Her Spirit a whole Legion would inspire,
And turn cold cowardize to Glowing fire,
I envy her, methinks a heart so brave,
A mind so haughty none but I should have.
If man be the more brave and noble name.
Why should weak woman rob us of our fame,
I'le to our troops and try if I can prove,
A kinder fate then I receav'd from Love.
If not the doom of Heaven I will reverse
And my own bosome with my own hand peirce.

[Exit.
Zichmi returns.
Zichm.
Her sister to my guard resign'd, blest fate,
That to revenge givest so secure a state,
My too long smoother'd hate I now will shew,
And to my aid invoke the Fiends below,
Dull Queen couldst thou believe I faith e're knew,
For her whose barb'rous hands my Brother slew,
No, Murdress to his soul, I did bequeath
Thy tainted blood, and then decreed thy death,
But now thy sisters rape shall first begin,
The tragick scene, and broach a greater sin,
Then in thy blood my bliss I will obtain,
Revenge is sweetest then when most obscean.

[Exit.