University of Virginia Library

THE FIRST ACT.

Solymans Camp and his Pavillion.
Enter Solyman, Rustan, Pyrrhus, and the Sultans Guards.
Rust.
What Influence, Mighty Sultan, rules the day,
And stops your course where glory leads the way?
Th'Hungarian Armies hasten from the Field,
And Buda waits for your approach to yield;
Yet you seem doubtful what you are to do,
And turn from Triumphs when they follow you.

Pyrrh.
We at the Suns one moments rest should more
Admire then at his glorious course before.
Glory, like Time, progression does require,
When it does cease t'advance, it does expire.

Soly.
You both mistake; my glory is the cause
That in my Conquest I have made this pause;
Whilst Hungary did pow'rful Foes afford,
I thought her Ruine worthy of my Sword;
But now the War does seem too low a thing,
Against a Mourning Queen, and Infant King;
Pyrrhus, it will unequal seem in me
To Conquer, and then blush at Victory.

Rust.
None but the Conquer'd should have sence of shame.
Shall shows of Vertue darken your bright Fame?
Success does cover all the crimes of War,
And Fame and Vertue still consistent are.
In lazie peace let Christian Monarchs rust,
Who think no War, but what's defensive, just.
Our Valiant Prophet did by slaughter rise:
Conquest a part of our Religion is.

Pyrrh.
He in his Holy War sounds no retreat,
Accounting none Religious but the great;
His Martyrs, not by yielding, glory gain;
They th'other World, by Conquering this, obtain.

Soly.
To Rome I will my dreadful Ensignes lead,
Rome which was once the Universal head,
Which still the worlds important part controuls;
Once she gave Laws to Kingdoms, now to Souls;
To that great Conquest my designs I bend,
This Kingdom is my way and not my end,
Which now, since too much scar'd by my Alarms,
Seems worthier of my pity then my Arms.

Rust.
Since Rome did once the Universe subdue,
'Tis now the only Conquest fit for you;
But he who Conquests wisely has design'd,
Does never leave an Enemy behind.
Though all that Heav'n ere finish'd in a Man,
Is now in you, yet Heaven's Great Agent can
Proceed but as the Instrument of Fate,
To work out Conquests, not at once Create;
Beginnings should to th'end still useful be;
'Tis more to use then gain a Victory.

Pyrrh.
The Sword must end what Valour has begun,
Else you disgrace what is already done;
Your Foes would think if you should now relent,
That you of Conquests as of Crimes repent.
When your bright Crescents are to Buda shown,
'Tis but a step to the Hungarian Crown;
Your presence lower then their knees will bring
Th'Hungarian Priests to offer up their King.
When by that proof your Conquest is confest,
Dispose of him by rules of Interest.

Soly.
Bear then my Standard before Buda's Walls
I should not stop my Ears when glory calls;
Since there the Foe all his reserves does make,
In taking Buda I the Kingdom take.
Call the Divan, let them consult with you,
What with the Infant King is fit to do.
[Exeunt the two Bashas.
Divans like Common-wealths regard not fame,
Disdaining honour they can feel no shame;
Each does, for what the publick safety call,
Venture his Vertue in behalf of all,
Doing by pow'r what Nature does forbid,
Each hoping, amongst all, that he is hid,
Hidden because they on each other wink,
When they dare act what Monarchs scorne to think.

[Exit.
Enter Isabella Queen of Hungaria in Mourning, Cleora, Thuricus, Viche, and Attendants.
Thur.
In the Hungarian Council does appear
Disorder vary'd in all shapes of fear.

Viche.
And in their looks too clearly I descry,
They'l rather tamely yield then bravely dye.

Queen.
But yet the remedy by Death remains,
When that may free them will they carry Chains?
Their Souls are with their Armies overcome,
They who the Bulwark were of Christendom,
Shall now be made at once their scorn and shame:
'Tis less to lose their Countrey than their Fame.
But though the frighted States should yield the Town,
I am resolv'd ne're to resign the Crown:
My care of that, and my neglect of Life,
Are signs that I have been your Monarchs Wife.

Thur.
The death of that Great King for whom you Mourn,
Did our advancing Empire backward turn;
The Turks may now the Christian world out-brave,
Since all our hearts lie buri'd in his grave.

Enter the Cardinal of Veradium.
Card.
The Sultan's Army covers Budas hills,
Which our Consulting States with terrour fills,
Who hearing he to such has mercy shown,
As, timely yielding, did his wrath atone;
They will a sudden present to him bring,
Worth more than all their lives, our Infant King.

Queen.
Give up the King! in that resolve I see
Th'Hungarians now are ripe for slavery;
The Prince, who from your King his birth did take,
Shall not a part of Turkish triumph make;
Death may, but fear shall never cast me down:
Who yields, does ne're deserve to wear a Crown;
Death shall us both in the first breach relieve,
We'l die, since in the Throne we cannot live.

Thur.
Ah Madam, that which you have now design'd,
Does more become your fortune than your mind;
Let not your Vertue teach you cruelty.

Queen.
'Tis worse to merit death than 'tis to die:
A Queen who does resign her Son and State,
Does use her self, worse than she's us'd by Fate.

Card.
Since now the States your broken Armies pay,
The orders of the States they will obey;
And what they have resolv'd, they soon will do,
Therefore my Counsel, Madam, pray pursue;
Since they have prov'd so false and so unjust,
Turn what they make necessity to trust;
Send the Crown-Jewels, and the Infant King
To Roxolana as an Offering;
Subdue that Beauty which the Victor sways,
With what the Great are soonest conquer'd, Praise:
Extol her Vertue, and her Mercy move,
By all the Charms of pity and of love;
In gaining her you make the Sultan sure,
A desperate ill can have no common cure.
Whilst with applause high minds you higher raise,
You make them vertuous to make good your praise.

Queen.
The States, not I, this Counsel may esteem,
'Twill make me do what I abhorr'd in them;
If by their Cowardice I am destroy'd,
I'le bravely meet what I in vain avoid:
Ah! 'tis enough my fate to undergo,
Must I the Patient be, and Agent too?
'Tis Hazardous on th'Empress to relie,
I by the Sultan's Conquest can but die;
And 'twill less glory to my death afford,
To perish by her sentence then his sword:
By my own way I but to death submit,
But if I follow yours I merit it;
For when a Monarch is subdu'd by fear,
What he does suffer he deserves to bear.

Card.
My way, the worst that can befal our King,
Is to become his peoples offering;
Of the two ills, which will the worser be,
To die for them, or by their Treachery?
Thus he'l afflict whom he can ne're reclaim,
For sure the sharpest punishment is shame:
The worse they are, his fate the better seems,
When those who him destroy he thus redeems;
Religion too makes it a greater thing,
To die a Martyr then to live a King.

Queen.
My Lord, your pious reasons make me yield,
Nature to Vertue should resign the field;
Bring me, Cleora, my unhappy Son,
And with him all the Jewels of the Crown;
[Exit Cleora.
You Thuracus on Embassy shall go
To Roxolana's Tent, and let her know
How much the common voice of Fame I trust,
Which renders her compassionate and just;
Whilst others say she all her sex exceeds,
They shew their Faith by words, but I by deeds;
I by so strange a trust may find relief,
If she has vertue equal to my grief.

Viche.
Madam, she will not now by one mean act,
A future stain on her past fame contract.

Thur.
Honour will make her value what I bring:
'Tis more to save then to destroy a King.

Enter Cleora with the young King, and a Casket of Jewells, with Attendants.
Queen.
Ah! wou'd thy Cradle had been made thy Grave,
Since born to be at once a King and Slave;
In bonds thy fatal Reign thou dost begin,
And thou art punish'd e're thou know'st to sin.

Card.
You feed your sorrow when you thus complain;
Think not of loss, but count what you may gain;
Fortune who leads him hence will bring him back,
And long preserve what you a while forsake.

Queen.
My Lord, my sorrow seeks not your relief,
You are not fit to judge a Mothers grief;
You have no Child for an untimely grave,
Nor can you lose, what I desire to have.

Card.
He'l be restor'd unless you hazard him,
By losing time which none could ere redeem.

Queen.
I'l now seal up the heart which I must send
In thee, to thy new-Mother and my Friend.
[Kisses him
Oh Heav'n perswade her that she both may prove,
And that her power be equall'd by her love;
Let me but seal't agen ere it does go:
Two Seals th'importance of Dispatches show.

[Kisses him agen.
Card.
Madam, we must by stealth our passage get:
Our Guards are strict, and th'Ev'ning Watch is set.

Queen.
Be you his Nurse, Cleora, teach him how,
He should to Heav'n with early homage bow;
Teach him to sooth the Empress, and to be,
A pretty supplyant for himself and me.

[Exeunt several wayes, the Queen still turning her Eyes towards her Son, and weeping.
Enter Mustapha, Zanger, Attendants.
Must.
Sure, my dear Zanger, those who heretofore,
The envy'd Crown of this Great Empire wore;
Nere knew the charms which Friendship do attend,
Or in a Brother never had a Friend;
Since he who Friendships sacred power has known,
Rather than kill a Friend, would lose a Throne:
Your Friendship at so just a rate I prize,
As I for that this Empire can despise.

Zang.
That jealous care which on this Throne attends,
Thinks those too great who merit to be Friends;
None but an equal should in Friendship share,
And Sultans of their equals jealous are:
They think the proof of wisdom is distrust,
And then believe, what ere is safe is just;
Their fatal maximes made our Sultans still.
As soon as they were Crown'd, their Brothers kill.

Must.
How can that wisdom in our Sultans be,
Which of it self is fear and cruelty?
If titles change th'intention of the Fact,
Then justice weighs the Actor, not the Act;
And who would not a Monarchy refuse,
When, to gain pow'r, he must his nature lose,
The vertue of that man was never strong,
Who fear'd not more to do then suffer wrong.
By our great Prophet solemnly I swear,
If I the Turkish Crown do ever wear,
Our bloody custom I will overthrow;
That debt I both to you and justice owe.

Zang.
And here I vow by all that's good and high,
I'le not out-live the day in which you die;
This which my Friendship makes me promise now,
My grief will then enable me to do.

Must.
My vow is seal'd.

Zang.
Mine Friendship shall make good.

[They embrace.
Must.
Friendship's a stronger tye than that of blood.

Enter Haly.
Haly.
Sir, the Divan in secret Council sit;
The Sultan to their Judgment does remit
The Summons or Assault of this proud Town,
Or to demand the Infant with his Crown.

Zang.
If the Divan may of this Realm dispose,
Th'Hungarians will have scarce enough to lose.

Must.
Councils dare do worse than their Monarchs dare;
For where in evil many bear a share,
They hardly count, when they divide the guilt,
A drop for each, though streams of blood were spilt.

[Exeunt.
Enter Roxolana with her Train, Cleora, Thuracus with the young King, and a Casket of Jewels.
Rox.
She thinks that my compassion may be bought:
You had the King without these Jewels brought,
If she had held me worthy to have shown,
That I without reward could save a Crown:
She does at once what generous seems and low,
What her trust builds, her gifts do overthrow.
Bear back the remnants of her ruin'd State,
And leave the Infant to expect his Fate.

Thur.
Great Roxolana cannot but excuse
Those errors which our Queens respects produce;
She makes for her offence no ill amends,
When she dares trust that Vertue she offends;
Nor has she cause that error to deplore,
Which gives you power to shew your mercy more.
'Tis not below your fame, nor yet your state,
To pardon faults your Glory does create;
For if your Glory had been less sublime,
You could not take her Present for a crime.
These glist'ring Ornaments of Regal State,
Become the Prosp'rous, not th'Unfortunate.
Ah! to her errour, Madam, be more kind;
The wrong she meant not, she the trust design'd.

Rox.
What I resolve, I change not through mistake;
Leave here your King, but bear your Presents back.

Cleora.
This answer makes us both rejoyce and mourn;
The greater gift you keep, the less return;
Yet your protection cannot be deny'd:
Honour and mercy ever were ally'd.

[Exeunt Thuracus, Cleora, Roxolana, Lady carries away the Infant.
Enter Zarma.
Zarm.
From the Divan, Rustan is hither sent,
Who humbly begs t'attend you in your Tent.

Rox.
Admit him; this must of importance be;
[Exit Zarma.
He is a Cloud between the Sun and me.

Achm.
Your beams exhal'd what they may soon dispel;
He'll shrink in lesser time then he did swell.

Rox.
He's now the Sultans, but I rais'd him first,
And poyson'd him with power to make him burst.

Enter Haly, Rustan.
Rust.
From the Divan, Great Empress, I am come;
They have pronounc'd the Royal Infants doom;
And now their Mutes at your Pavilion Gate,
For execution on your pleasure wait.

Rox.
Can they contest with what they should despise?
Or are they in such want of Enemies,
As to pursue an Infant to my Tent?

Rust.
'Tis said that he is here for refuge sent.

Rox.
Design of refuge sanctifies this place:
Weakness pursu'd, shews strong pursuers base;
The priviledge of refuge I'll maintain,
And they not breaking it will honour gain.

Rust.
States may by honour lose, if they comply
With mischiefs, because weak, or when they flye;
They root up Infant Danger when it springs:
None can fore-tell the height of growing Kings.

Rox.
The grave Divan in ruining their Foes,
Are not concern'd when they may honour lose;
Because it most reflects on future fame,
But they seek present safety though with shame.
Great Solyman, who has for honour fought,
Does wisely prize what with his blood he bought;
And what he values, I must value too;
Doing like him, how can I better do?
But the Divan and I shall vainly strive,
Since from the Sultan they that power derive;
By which for bloody int'rest they contend,
And by his power, my honour I defend.

Rust.
Your beauty keeps all humane pow'r in awe:
What can resist it, but our Prophets Law:
The wise Divan, arm'd with Religious force,
Contests not with your pow'r, but your remorse.

Rox.
Religion now does many faces bear,
And all resemble those, who Copy her;
You States-men in your own resemblance draw
Her shape, by which you keep the world in awe,

Rust.
Fair Empress, when Religion does oppose
What custom plants, or in our nature grows;
We are incens'd, and yet we then forbear
T'accuse the Law, but tax th'Interpreter;
As men refrain to quarrel with the strong,
But wrongs pretend from those whom they may wrong;
Our Law offends them by their own mistake,
Whilst what is merciful, they cruel make:
This Infants blood will quench the flames of War;
Millions of lives we by his dying spare.

Rox.
But can Religion with such ill dispence
As harm prevents, by harming innocence.

Rust.
Shall true Religion (which must still declare
Against all false Religions open War)
Be less provided for offence then those,
VVho practice policy as well as blows?

Rox.
Rustan, I did not think Camps could have bred
One, whose Religion might in Temples plead
For all that Heav'n enjoynes, and Hell resists:
Rustan might lead an Army made of Priests.

Rust.
They fight for th'other World, and yield up this;
Would I could lead them all to Paradise:
But Madam, the Hungarian Child, to save,
Contesting Armies from a publick grave,
Should dye, if with his death you would dispence.

Rox.
I have some pity of his innocence.

Rust.
His early dying may his Soul prefer
To th'other World, and may secure us here.
Those, Madam, may rejoyce who upward go,
And ought to pity us who stay below.

Rox.
Ah Rustan! you by soaring Vertue reach,
Those heights of which our Priests can only Preach;
My pity you correct, and then destroy,
In pleading what the dead, by death enjoy;
And now, to show I prize what you esteem,
Call in my Mutes and bid them strangle him.

[Pointing to Rustan.
Rust.
'Tis much to say it, can you mean it too?

[Exit Mitza.
Rox.
I'le not dissemble as you Viziers do.
A Viziers power is but subordinate,
Enter Mitza and the Mutes.
He's but the chief dissembler of the State;
And oft for publick int'rest lies; but I,
The partner of Supreme Authority,
Do ever mean the utmost that I say;
Dispatch, he's such a Saint as needs not pray.

Haly.
Hold, hold.

Rox.
How Haly, by command from you?

Haly.
'Tis but for leave that I may humbly sue.
I can less doubt the justice of your will,
Then that you here have priviledge to kill;
The greatness of his crime none will suspect,
Because he came t'invade, what you protect;
But for that height of trespass let him live,
Lest you should seem unable to forgive.

Achm.
You only mortal pow'r by killing show;
But by forgiving it does Heav'nly grow:
Th'Offender more your frowns, then dying fears.

Rust.
To me your anger, worse then death appears.

Rox.
Live, since my wrath does fear of death transcend,
Live to continue, what thy death will end.

Exit Rustan bowing low. Exeunt Mutes another way.
Haly.
He's gone to study what revenge can do,
But, Madam, 'tis more safe for us that you
Have left a Vizier living to complain,
Then that the Sultan should have found him slain.

Rox.
Can you your safety doubt whilst you are mine?

Achm.
You and the Sun warm all things where you shine.

Haly.
Some flowers seem more then others to rely
On the Suns favour, such as with his Eye
Open and shut, and with his Noon grow strong,
We like to those may flourish, but not long.

Achm.
The Sultan will not chide your violence,
But make our knowing of it an offence;
And we shall certain be of punishment,
For knowing that which we could ne're prevent.

Haly.
He'l on your errours wink, as on his own,
And think them punish'd in but being known.

Enter Solyman.
Achm.
Our storm's already coming, would 'twere past.

Haly.
Before it falls, let us to shelter haste.

Exeunt Achmat, Haly.
Soly.
We in our Camp want pow'r to check your will,
And your Pavilion is your Cittadil;
Which you with Dwarfs, and Mutes, and Eunuchs, man,
To hold out siege against the whole Divan;
This wonder I am told, if it be true,
We must leave Buda to beleaguer you.

Rox.
I thought in gaining you, I gain'd the Field,
And therefore would not to your Subjects yield.

Soly.
Fortune does blush at the bold minds of those,
Who, what is long in gaining, rashly lose.

Rox.
Your Vizier is a most impatient Saint:
He cannot suffer wrong without complaint.

Soly.
You would be terrible, yet pleasant too,
And in gay humour when you mischief do;
Can you, when sullen grown, be chearful made
With no less sport then death in masquerade?
My Vizier, on whose office I rely,
Whose pow'r should advers Nations terrifie;
You, for your Eunuchs, and your Dwarfs delight,
To try his Valour, with Death's vizard fright.

Rox.
Had you not taught me, I had never known
All Pow'r to be Phantastick, but your own.

Soly.
I'll teach you now that Death's a serious thing.
Call for your Mutes, and for your little King!

Rox.
What is your meaning Sultan? Zarma stay!

Soly.
Ha! Is she doubtful whom she should obey?

Rox.
You rule enough, ruling the world and me;
Pray let my Women, my own Subjects be.

Soly.
Your Subjects are not safe obeying you:
They'l make my Mutes do more then yours should do.

Rox.
Your looks are chang'd, and many dangers there
Assemble like black Clouds when storms are neare:
Ah Sultan! what should Roxolana do,
If, like your looks, your heart were alter'd too?
Is it your pleasure that my VVomen bring,
For your Diversion, Sir, the Infant King?

Soly.
Your question breeds delay, let him be brought.
Your Women sure are Mutes, and only taught
To know your signs for what they should not do;
I'll send my Mutes t'instruct them when to go.

The Women run out.
Rox.
Alas, their fear did make them loth to move:
They fear your anger, but I trust your love.

Enter the Women with the young King.
Soly.
Is this the thing that you would keep alive;
For whom the Cross does with the Cressent strive;
Nay, bring him near, his motion has a grace;
And I perceive a promise in his face,
That he'l perform what he declares in show,
If destiny will give him leave to grow;
His eyes do with a diff'rent lustre move,
They threaten veng'ance, and they promise love.

Rox.
Pray look, methinks his features are not ill—
But cruel Rustan, thinks I have no skill—
Poor Infant, none dare speak in thy defence,
And thou want'st words to plead thy innocence.

Soly.
You are too fond, be tender of your own:
They'l quit his company to get his Crown;
If this seems strange I'll put you out of doubt;
Zarma go call my Mutes, they wait without.

Rox.
Stay! Zarma stay! If this, Sir, be your doom,
Send me too where the cruel never come;
I'll bind him to me with my Arms and Hair;
Then try, Sir, if your Mutes or Viziers dare
Enforce him from the refuge of my Brest.

Soly.
Though with strange valour you are now possest,
Yet surely, Empress, the Divan, and I,
May charge with the most desp'rate Enemy:
Your heart will yield after this raging fit.

Rox.
It may e're long, when you have broken it.

[Weeps.
Soly.
Come, come! My Mutes, ending an Infants life,
Which seems but new begun, will end our strife.

Rox.
The light of this new kindl'd life shall shine,
Till those who put it out extinguish mine;
Your Mutes may tremble and your Viziers too,
Knowing what I have done, and still dare do.

Soly.
You will not sure with them and me contend.

Rox.
Against th'opposing world I will defend
The life which in protection I receive;
Sultan I'll do't—If you will give me leave—

[Weeps.
Soly.
You, Roxolana, are the Conquerour.
What storm is not allay'd by such a showre?
I only try'd whether your Vertue were
Above my anger, and your sexes fear:
Since over both it does so nobly rise,
It shall be more Triumphant then your eyes.

Rox.
By yielding you prevail, and your remorse
Gains more then other Victors get by force.

Soly.
Your showre of Tears will make my Laurels spring,
And growth does promise to this Infant King;
He shall applaud your gentle Victory,
For your remorse saves him and Conquers me.

Exeunt. The young King, being led out between Solyman and Roxolana.