 | The Empress of Morocco |  |
Scene the First.
Enter King Attended.King.
How! Crimalhaz up to the Mountains fled,
And with him the Morocco Forces led.
Oh Rebel!
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Sir, he only does pursue
That Treason which you lent him Pow'r to do:
He was your Treasurer, and has made bold
To be too strict a Guardian of your Gold.
All your Crown-Jewels, and your heaps of Wealth,
He in the Night convey'd away by Stealth.
And now—
Encamped on Atlas skirts, he by your Gold
Has Rais'd new Forces, and Confirm'd the Old.
With that he Bribes your Army to his Cause;
And after him new Trains of Rebells draws.
King.
Oh Prophane Gold, which from infectious Earth,
From Sulph'rous and Contagious Mines takes Birth.
It grew from Poysons, and has left behind
Its native Venome to infect Mankind.
Rapes, Murders, Treasons, what has Gold not Don?
If it has ever any Glory won,
Given to Reward a Virtue, or decreed
T'a Pious use, or Charitable deed;
That Sacred Powr's but borrowed, which it bears,
Lent from their Royal Images it wears.
Enter Queen Mother.
2. Lord.
I am afraid his Thoughts fly High, his Dreams
Have little less than Empires for their Theams.
King.
On what Ill subjects I my Favours cast?
Him high in Pow'r, and Honours I have plac'd.
Kings Bounties act like the Suns Courteous smiles,
Whose rayes produce kind Flowers on fruitful Soyles:
But cast on barren Sands, and baser Earth,
Only breed Poysons, and give Monsters Birth.
2. Lord.
Let not too far your Fears your Peace molest:
Perhaps you've mis-interpreted his Breast.
You know that Crimalhaz his High Command
Was formerly in Muly Hamets hand.
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Made War a Sport, and Conquest but a Game.
And therefore he, perhaps, to Act some Deed
Which Muly Hamets glory may exceed.
Has for his Mistress from the common Rout
Of the worlds beauties singled Honour out.
And that which makes him his Designes disguise,
He'll make his flight of Honour a surprize.
King.
No, he's a Traytor, and he'll use my Pow'r
Not to Promote, but to Usurp my Crown.
Pow'r swoln too High destroys, not guards; as show'rs,
Luxurious grown, what they should Cherish, drown.
Our Swords in Loyal hands may act great Things:
Be both the Glory and Defence of Kings:
But when misplaced, those Arms our Ruins be:
As Mountains bulwarks are at Land, but Rocks at Sea.
Q. M.
Can you Rebellion fear, or any thing
Who are my Son, and great Moroccoes King?
If he be False, you can't resist your Fate:
If True, his aim will be to guard your State.
But grant he would some Traytrous act performe,
Accept my Counsel to divert the Storm.
Up to the Mountains strait, and visit Him.
Your Awful sight may check an ungrown Crime;
Out-face his Treason e're his Rise begin:
Men Bashful are i'th' non-age of a Sin.
King.
Madam, your dauntless spirit would breath fire
To breasts as cold as Age. I must admire
Your Courage: but your Innocence mistakes.
Your Goodness in my Cause weak Judgment makes,
Your Thoughts can't Reach the flights which Treason takes.
Q. M.
You've hit my Thoughts: Alas, I am too good,
Treason's a Thing I never understood.
But yet I understand what's High and Brave.
He dares not, Sir, abuse that pow'r You gave.
For he who sav'd my Honour, will guard yours:
That very Argument your Life secures.
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And visit him; but wear no Jealous brow:
It makes men False to be Suspected so.
I'le be your Leader.
King.
When She leads the Way,
Though it were Death to go, 'twere worse to Stay.
Madam, I'le go. For Taffaletta's Armes
In few dayes March will reach Moroccoes Walls.
If Crimalhaz prove False, at his Alarms
Muly Labas by a forreign Conq'rour falls.
Staying, I tamely Perish; if I go,
I face my Ruine, and I Charge my Foe.
It will more like an act of Courage look,
To be by Ruine met, than over-took.
But at my sight perhaps he in my brow
May something read which his High thoughts may bow.
Kings that want Armes, do not want Majesty.
Heav'n is still Heav'n, though't lays its Thunder by.
[Exit with Attendants.
Q. M.
Go easy Fool, and Dye, and when you Bleed,
Remember I was Author of the Deed.
T'enlarge Fates black Records, search but My Soul:
There ye Infernal Furies read a scrowl
Of Deeds which you want Courage to Invent;
Of which Hells Legends want a President.
| The Empress of Morocco | |