University of Virginia Library

Scene the Second.

The Scene open'd, is presented a Prospect of a Clouded Sky, with a Rain bow. After a shower of Hail, enter from within the Scenes Muly Hamet and Abdelcador.
Abd.
Such Storms as These, this Climate never knew:
A Show'r of Hail's an Object strange and new
I fear it does Portend some Dire Event,
That waits upon your Fatal Banishment.

Muly H.
My Country, Princess, and my King forsook:
Stormes to my Miseries like attendants look,
These Tempests Sir, are to my Sufferings due:
When my King Frowns, 'tis just that Heav'n frown too.
But why does my dear Confident intend
In my Misfortunes thus to run my Race?
Must I in my sad Ruine plunge my Friend?
As Drowning men sink those whom they Embrace.

Abd.
Do not my friendships right forbid. With You
I've been a Conq'rour, why not Exile too?
Shall my Esteem grow faint, or my Zeal less,
Because I view you in a Meaner dress,
Your outward Pomp laid by, and Honours raz'd?
The Saint's not less, although the Shrine's defac'd.

Enter Mariamne with a small Attendance.
Muly H.
Mariamne!

Mar.
Yes. And she who led by Love,
Leaves Palaces, and does to Desarts Rove.
Wing'd by that zeal united Souls do beare
Those Stars that smile on Lovers, brought me here.
I for Your sake my wandring steps engage:
Devotion is the rise of Pilgrimage.

Muly H.
Can Love in Hearts such deep impressions make,
That you can for your Wretched Vassals sake
Leave Courts, Pomp, Greatness, and all splended things?

Mar.
Sir, 'tis the same with Lovers, as with Kings,
Thus, if a King should with his Train resort
To a poor Cell, he makes that Cell a Court.
Oh Sir, the most Illustrious Queen on Earth,
Would quit the Pageantry of Crowns and Birth:
And in exchange Mariamnes Exile choose,
Could she but Love as Mariamne does.

Muly H.
Oh my kind Princess; King and Court farewel:
Where painted Honours, & feigned Glories dwell:
Lovers when happy made, have Souls that scorn
Those guilded wreaths which swelling brows Adorn.

Mar.
Mariamne has this glory on her side,
That kindness you call Love, I call my Pride.
For of my Constancy—
Any less tryal I disdain to make
Then shew I scorn an Empire for your sake:
And whosoe're does my rash Flight condemn,
The meaness of their Censures I contemn.
None of my Actions can fit Judges be,
But they who've soul enough to Love like Me.
Lovers alone Loves causes can decide,
As Nobles only by their Peers are Try'd.

Enter to them Hametalhaz disguis'd in the Habit of a Priest, with Villains in the same Dress.
Ham.
Sir, our great Prophet has pronounc't your Fate,
Your Love is doom'd to be Unfortunate.

Muly H.
No Sir, 'tis False, thou doest belye his Name:
Our Prophet is a Lover as I am.

Ham.
Your Mistress too must your Misfortune find.

Muly H.
To her our Prophet cannot be unkind.
She is a Princess.

Ham.
No Titles his eternal will confute.

Muly H.
She is a Woman, and he scorns to do't.
Did not thy Garb protect thee—Mahomet
To wrong her Sex his greatness would forget.

Ham.
No Sex is from ill destiny debar'd.

Muly H.
She is a Beauty, and that Name's her guard.
Good fates as due should be to Beauty given:
Beauty which decks our Earth, and props his Heav'n.
When Heav'n to Beauty is propitious,
It payes those Favours it but lends to Us.

Ham.
Oh, do not Sir, their Oracles decry,
With patience hear the Language of the Sky.
Heav'n when on Earth some Change it does fore-shew,
Does write Above what we must read below.
This Morning, as our Eyes we upward cast,
The desart Regions of the Air lay Wast.
But strait, as if it had some Penance bore,
A mourning Garb of thick black Clouds it wore.
But on the Sudden—
Some aery Demon chang'd its form, and now
That which look't black Above look'd white below.
The Clouds dishevel'd from their crusted Locks,
Something like Gems coin'd out of Chrystal Rocks.
The Ground was with this strange bright Issue spread,
As if Heav'n in affront to Nature had
Design'd some new-found Tillage of its own;
And on the Earth these unknown Seeds had sown.
Of these I reacht a Grain, which to my sence
Appear'd as cool as Virgin-innocence:
And like that too (which chiefly I admir'd)
Its ravisht. Whiteness with a Touch expir'd.
At the approach of Heat, this candid Rain
Dissolv'd to its first Element again.

Muly H.
Though show'rs of Hail Morocco never see,
Dull Priest, what does all this Portend to me?

Ham.
It does Portend—

Muly.
What?

Ham.
That the Fates—designe—

Muly.
To tire me with Impertinence like thine.

Here a Company of Villains in Ambush from behind the Scenes discharge their Guns at MulyHamet, at which Muly Hamet starting and turning, Hamettalhaz from under his Priests habit draws a Sword, and passes at Muly H. which pass is intercepted by Abdelcader. They engage in a very fierce Fight, with the Villains, who also draw and assist Hametalhaz, and go off several ways Fighting; after the discharge of other Guns heard from within, and the Clashing of Swords, Enter again Muly Hamet, driving in some of the former Villains, which he Kills.
Muly H.
Dye Slaves, and may this desart raise a brood
Of unknown Monsters from your venom'd Blood.
My Princess gone, Fortune and Justice are
Sure not so Blind, but they of her took Care.

Enter Abdelcader.
Abd.
Your Princess Sir, is from your Armes divorc'd,
In her own Chariot to Morocco forc'd.

Muly H.
I'le fetch her back, though—

Abd.
Hold! With their fair prize, they've took so quick a flight,
That She is now beyond your reach and sight:
And the chief Leader of those Villains, was
The Old Queens Confident, Hametalhaz.
And all the Story which the Slave did frame,
Was only to gain time to take his aim.
They chose that Garb as what might best prevail,
To gain your Patience, and their Swords Conceal:
But missing of your Blood, your brave Escape
Chang'd his intended Murder to a Rape.

Muly H.
Hell and Damnation, these curst Traytors seize.
But why against such Barb'rous Savages
Do I in vain these useless Curses name;
They are such Brutes, that they want Souls to damne?
No 'gainst my self I should my Curses bend,
Coward so ill my Princess to defend.

Abd.
Oh Sir, do not profane your Conq'ring Sword,
Their Numbers were too great to be o're-powr'd.

Muly H.
How, Numbers! Abdelcader, you mistake;
No Sir, where Love and Beauty is at stake,
True Lovers of their Swords should make such Use,
As angry Heav'n of Threatning Earth-quakes does;
To shake whole Kingdoms, make proud Cities fall,
Not to o're-throw one single Criminal.
Had they been Thousands more, and each man there,
More Feirce than Lust, more Valiant than Despair,
I should have Fought till I my Princess freed,
Though I had waded through the Blood I shed.

Abd.
Sir, the last words she spake that reacht my Ear,
Were, that she did your passions Rashness fear:
And therefore from me bid you understand,
'Tis your kind Mariamnes last Command;
You ne're should see Morocco more, lest there
You should endanger what she prized too dear.

Muly. H.
And am I banisht by my Princess too?
Fates ye have done all th'ill your Powers could do;
Great Minds the pride of Prodigals have Learn'd,
At loss of Pow'r or Crowns are unconcern'd;
But when they're Misers, 'tis in Love alone,
Then their Hearts rend to see their Treasure gon.
Condemn'd never to see Morocco more!
Thus am I doom'd to quit all I Adore:
As prophane Sinners are from Altars driven,
Banish'd the Temple to be banisht Heaven.
Horrour and Tortures now my Jaylours be,
Who paints Damnation needs but Copy me;
For if Mankind the pains of Hell e're knew,
T'is when they lose a Mistress as I do.

[Exeunt.