 | The conquest of China, By the Tartars |  |
The Second ACT.
The Scene open'd, discovers the Royal Pallace of Pequin the King of China, and Orunda, seated with Attendants of Women and Eunuchs.King.
The Mighty will from whence all pow'r does grow,
That plac'd the Sun above, and me below;
That gave me all that I cou'd wish beside,
Has to my Royal Blood a Son deny'd.
But you, fair Daughter, must supply that want
The tardy Fates dispute before they grant.
This day you must my Successour declare,
Choose me a Son, and China's Crown an heir.
Orand.
Oh how extravagant is greatness grown!
All other Beauties are by Courtship won.
But the Imperial Daughters are oblig'd
To yield their hearts before they are besieg'd.
We must Court first; for since that Mortal dyes,
That dares but offer homage to our Eyes;
Custom has render'd that great, and sublime,
Which were in all but us, our Sexes crime.
King.
You by the Chinan Laws have understood,
That from the twelve next Princes of the blood,
Our Royal Daughter must two men prefer,
The most deserving of a Crown and her.
One of which two, your Father must design,
The happy Man shall share your Love and mine.
In Pomp conduct the Rival Princes in,
And let this Royal Scene of Love begin.
10
King.
From this great Train, now Daughter, let your Eyes
Mark out that worth, which best deserves to rise;
And make such choice as may become her part,
Who founds an Empire where she gives a heart.
Here Orunda having view'd around, stands, stands with her Eye fixt on Quitazo.
Orund.
So sudden, and so sure! Do I want sence,
Or have too much? My Eyes my greatness wrong:
They ought to visit, but not dwell so long.
That Look, that Form—Hold heart one minutes stay.
No, 'tis too great a Rebel to obey.
Like Vessels Stranded on a shallow Coast,
I'm fixt, and cannot move 'till I am lost.
Yet from my heart this favour I receive,
It gives me warning e're it takes its leave.
And on my Fetters I my glory build:
For now I shall be Conquer'd ere I yeeld.
King.
Daughter, your kindest thoughts:
Orund.
Since in one Sphear
Love ought to fix, my wandring thoughts rest here.
pointing to Quitazo.
For since my Birth does no mean choice allow,
Ther's something seems Imperial in his brow.
King.
Sure Daughter you your favours do misplace:
For in the Characters of his gloomy Face,
Wrapt in an angry and disdainful frown,
I read a Sullenness that scorns a Crown:
And certainly that Honour you design'd,
Deserv'd a brow more calm, and look more kind.
Were I assur'd he did the grace despise,
His Head, not Heart, should be your Sacrifice.
But choose again, and your mistake retrieve,
Whilst I the forfeit of his Head forgive:
That his severer punishment may be
To live, and feel the loss of You, and Me.
11
What fatal fury does your passion raise,
To judge that his offence, which is his praise.
His Gallantry is in that Look exprest.
They take gifts coldest, who deserve them best.
A Modesty in his dark brow I find;
The noblest mark of an Illustrious mind.
He seems to tell me in his looks cast down,
That my kind hand must raise him to a Crown.
Then blame not that which shews him great and good:
His merits are the brighter for the Cloud
His darken'd Visage wears.
King.
But name the Second man, and then I'le bind
That Tye Eternal Providence has sign'd:
Your destiny from my high pleasure springs;
The will of Heav'n speaks in the breath of Kings.
Orund.
The cruel rigour of our Laws Revoke:
Orunda only can Quitazo choose:
And for his sake must all man kind refuse.
King.
A Father, and a King, you ill mistrust:
I to your Love can be both kind and just.
Orund.
Sir, I obey you, since our Laws design
I must name two, may the kind Gods incline
My Fathers fancy to conspire with mine.
aside.
Sir, for his Second I Lycungus choose,
The only man I would with scorn refuse.
Him as Quitazo's foyle I set; his dark,
Harsh, and ill featur'd look, seems more the mark
Of Policy,—then Love. If with my Eyes
My Father sees, he must that face despise.
And for my Armes my nobler choice ordain;
A sweetness fit to Love, and Majesty to Reign.
—Your Sentence Royal Sir.
Aside.
King.
They seem to Worth so equally alli'd,
My fancy must survey e're it decide.
Orund.
How can your wandring fancy stray so far,
That your weak Eyes their merit can compare.
Look on that brow, what formes of horror dwell;
Where hate and rage like meeting Tempests swell.
But see what charms his softer looks impart,
Worthy to rule your Empire, and my Heart.
12
With all its gayest dress of greatness worne.
King.
Daughter, you'r born too near a Crown to Err:
Quitazo then I to your Grace prefer:
And if He yet wants what your praises speak,
He'le soon be all you wish him for your sake:
That merit which you do not find, you'l make.
After a Sound of Trumpets from a distance, Enter a Messenger, who delivers a Memorial in a Scroule of Parchment to the King; whilst he reads, one of the attending Princes speaks.
Prince.
The Emperour is disturb'd, his alter'd look,
Does seem to say his mighty mind is shook.
Whence should proceed this fear?
Lycung.
Sir, you mistake:
He is a Monarch, and his mind can't shake.
Fears the Convulsion of Ignoble Souls,
Whose aw'd pow'r some Superior force controles,
But he that's absolute, and depends on none,
Is above Terrour; and that Right alone
Belongs to Kings. The life of Majesty,
But one unalterable Scene should be.
Unmov'd by storms, a walk of State untrod
By all but Kings, and boundless as a God.
It should not stop, nor any change admitt.
Inconstancy and Ebbs are only fit
For those, whose Luster's small, or not their own:
The Moon admits of wains, but not the Sun.
King.
Read there new Subjects of a Monarchs care;
I must Engage in a defensive War.
The Bloody Tartars have Incursions made,
And their dead Kings Revenge too fully paid.
Orund.
How Sir! are you betray'd, or have they past
That mighty Bar which your great Fathers cast?
That Wall whose length does in a stately Pride
Your China from their Tartary divide?
King.
No, with a pow'r of Horse by Winters aide,
He o're the Ice our Country does Invade.
And fierce Zungteus Heads this Barb'rous Train,
Whose fury has so many thousands slain;
13
Meet both their Murder, and their Martyrdom.
My Men he Massacres, my Towns he Burns;
And into Funeral Piles whole Cities turns.
But thanks to that brave Youth of unknown name,
The kind Defender of his Soveraigns fame;
Who in defiance of the Tartars pow'r,
Went to the King as my Embassadour:
That War he has Proclaim'd, I will pursue;
And paint my Glory by the lines he drew.
Orund.
Your Father did by War gain his Renown,
Succeed him in his Courage, as his Crown.
King.
Yes Daughter,
Though Kings in Death, the unkind Gods think good,
Should levell'd be with common flesh and blood:
Though they debas'd us to Mortality,
They gave us hearts which tamely scorn to dye.
Quitazo, and Lycungus, though you may
No equal share in Loves Dominion sway.
Though to my Blood but one can be Alli'd;
Between you both I will my pow'r divide.
Our Military conduct I commend
To your high Trust, Our dearest Son and Friend;
He in the Camp shall Raign, and you at home:
All my State-Mandats through your hands shall come.
My Royal Signet's yours; to guard my Crown,
To him I grant the Sword, to you the Gown.
Open our Treasur's, and with golden Charms,
(Gold's the Religion and the Saint of Arms)
Raise all the Force that Interest can sway:
All who that pow'rful Leader will obey.
Who in distress an Empire would uphold,
Must build his hopes next to his Gods, on Gold:
Our Treasur's and success consistent are;
Kings may speak Vengeance, but their Gold makes War.
Here the King enters in dispute with Orunda and Quitazo in dumb shew.
Lycung.
(Aside.)
A Gown's not that my soaring wishes want:
The Sword had been the more obliging grant.
14
More fruit from Victory than wreaths of Bays.
Wise Conquerors this Charity still own,
When Crowns and Diadems are weighty grown;
Ease their Kings brows, and plant them on their own.
But my dull Office does that pow'r deny,
A lazy Gown-man rarely mounts so high.
'Tis true, in Wars, that Treason in a Gown
May sell a Kingdom, but not wear a Crown.
King.
Daughter, perhaps it may appear unkind,
To part two Lovers wh'are so lately joyn'd:
But as my Son, 'tis Honour calls him forth,
I must retard his bliss, t'advance his worth.
Exeunt omnes, but Orunda and Quitazo.
Quitaz.
Oh unkind King, you act a cruel part,
Thus to engage my hand against my heart.
How shall I meet her kindness, with what face?
To Counterfeit a Love, is poor and base:
In that a Princess I betray, and one,
Who with her Love presents me with a Crown.
And if I in the path of Honour tread,
And owning my aversion, lose my Head;
Though to meet Death, be nothing to the brave;
Yet when I think what's buried in a Grave:
To lose Alcinda, checks that bravery.
Such a Damnation makes me fear to dye.
Lovers like Sinners do resign their breath:
The loss of Heav'n is the greatest fear in death.
Direct me Gods.
Orund.
—So, we're alone, and now
That sullen Cloud that hung upon his brow,
No doubt my presence will with ease exhale;
I'm sure if Love can do't, it shall not fail.
Who knows but all that sullenness might be
His scorn of Rivals, and his Pride of me.
'Tis little transports that a Voyce assume:
The Extasie is highest when 'tis dumb.
15
(Aside...)
I must approach her: with what eager eye
She darts these smiles by which my peace must dye.
Her dangerous kindness how can I escape?
Was ever Ruine in so fair a shape! (...Aside.)
Let your poor Slave thus low his homage pay,
[Kneels.
You and the Gods should be ador'd one way.
The blessings you both show'r, one current take;
Powr'd on Man-kind, who no return can make.
Orund.
How! no return!
Quit.
Yes, Prayers and Offerings.
Desertless Mortal this poor Tribute brings
Up to his Gods his Eyes and Vows may list,
But what's the breath ador's them but their gift:
What pretious Gums with which we Altars Crown
But Fruits produc'd by their own Rain and Sun!
Orund.
Strain not your Rhetorick to a point too high;
To accept your Vows, I'le lay my God-head by.
Though there are no Returns made to a God;
Let this blush say, there are to flesh and blood.
Rise, rise my Lord; cease these ill-tim'd amours:
My Fate, my King and Love have made Me your's.
Kneeling's a posture fawning Courtship gives
To proud and scornful Mistresses, not Wives.
Quit.
That word has death in't.
[Aside.
But whom you raise to Honours so sublime,
Should by degrees to that high glory climb.
Consider first what Bliss that Grace design'd:
And banish next from his aspiring mind
His own poor distant state, and humble Birth.
They who reach Heav'n, shake off the thoughts of Earth.
Then his enlightned brow, and ravisht sence
Prepare, to entertain such Excellence:
So make all gay without, all rich within,
To take the Royal Guest, the mighty Conquerour in.
Orund.
This Gallantry does but new flames inspire.
Oh Love! the Charm winds up still higher & higher.
Aside.
Why all this distance? why this State to me?
What need of Parly's after Victory?
United hearts should no distinctions know:
Love finds all equal, or else leav's 'em so.
16
Talk of high Blood, Descents, and Births, no more.
Our Births are things of many years agoe:
Love is our business now.
Quit.
(Aside...)
—What shall I do?
Her fatal kindness still encreases more:
Alas my Ruine was too sure before. (...Aside.)
But Madam, whilst your Influence I survey,
And think how Nations must your pow'r Obey:
Can you imagine, I, of all Man-kind,
The most oblig'd, rais'd by your smiles, design'd
To share your Throne, should think no homage due
To your great Name, when the world pays it you?
Orund.
Still of my Birth, let this that thought remove
I shall Rule Empires, but I'le yield to Love.
gives him her hand.
Quit.
(Aside...)
What Devil but my self would be unmov'd—
By so much Charm thus Honour'd, and thus Lov'd,
To see a Courting Majesty deny'd. (...Aside.)
Madam, my Soul I can no longer hide.
To Heaven Religiously this Vow I made:
That when it was my fate to Love, t'invade
My Mistress heart, and lay a glorious Siege,
I'de act some Deed extravagantly great,
Both to deserve and to confirm that Seat.
Since then the Tartar War has shew'd the way:
Let me my debt to Heaven and Beauty pay.
First shine in Wars, and when your Vassal treads
Upon your Foes the Conquer'd Tartars Heads,
He to the World his passion may proclaim,
When he has done Deeds worthy a Lovers Name.
Orund.
Being in my Debt, you'l Bankrupt seem & poor,
T'engage with Honour e're you pay Loves score.
Quit.
Madam, I've sworn, and my King bids me goe.
And Majesty's as Sacred as my Vow.
He calls me hence; besides, I should not dare
Aspire to Mirtles, till I Lawrels wear.
Orund.
Hold Generous Sir, that fond pursuit give o're:
To act your Vow, already you've done more.
Than Conquer'd Armys; for you've Conquer'd me.
And sure there is some distance, or should be
17
Hirelings bred up for Death, and born for Slaves:
And the subduing of a Princess heart.
If killing is such an Heroick part,
And so much worth from giving Deaths accrue,
Then Plagues and Famines have more worth than you.
Quit.
Madam I must be gone. A stay so long,
Does both your Greatness and your Beauty wrong.
Unworthily I have approacht too nigh,
An excellence so sacred and so high:
A greater distance fits my humble state;
Th'unworthy should in outward Temples wait,
Whilst th'inner steps which to high Altars lead,
None but the Holy and inspir'd should tread:
Whilst meaner worths more awfully forbear,
In Reverence to th'Almighty presence there.
Exit.
Orund.
If this be Love, 'tis brave: must Victory
And Glory be the steps t'ascend to me.
In such a Lover, Oh how blest—but hold,
A sudden check makes my faint Blood run cold.
T'his Mistress Armes a Victor he returns,
Suppose he for some other Mistress burns.
Oh Jealousie, my thoughts take hideous formes;
I fear those Clouds he wore will end in stormes.
If all this Gallantry should prove but Art,
Oh, the sad Ruines of a wounded heart!
But why should I suspect, 'tis all mistake:
But to shun dangers I'le this refuge take.
Mine and my Fathers pow'r shall keep him here,
Till Law and Sacred Rites remove my fear.
Then when I've made him, and his Soul, my own;
Have made him Lord of Me, my Love, and Crown,
I'le fear no Rivals; but securely trust
My Eyes and Charms to keep him kind and just.
Devotion is by unbelief destroy'd:
None are Apostates who have Heav'n enjoy'd.
Enter Lycungus.
Yet I'le remove all doubt: Lycungus stay,
You have Convers't with Fame; what does it say,
Of my Quitazo.
18
—What it says of things,
'Twixt men and Gods, what it should say of Kings.
Orund.
But what do you think of him?
Lyc.
—As I ought;
All of him that can come in reach of thought.
But the vast Bliss which your high favours give,
None but the rich Possessor can conceive.
Orund.
Hold, you mistake the thing which I demand:
My pow'r and its effects I understand.
It is his native Virtues I enquire;
Not my own Creatures, those which I inspire.
I have a trust, which to your private care
I would commit; search out his Character,
Observe his Actions, and his Looks survey;
And for my Thanks, I will my Friendship pay.
Lyc.
So paid, my Loyalty you need not fear.
At half that price you'd buy my life too dear.
Orund.
This Curiosity's a Venial part,
Where I bestow an Empire, and a Heart.
Lyc.
Madam, I'le bring him drawn to'th' life; I'le use
All arts and means, that may his Soul disclose.
And the large Mirrour shall be clear and true;
I'le be his Painter and Historian too.
Exit Orunda.
Why all this search? Its depth I cannot sound:
Howe're, I like the Structure, though the ground
I understand not. The Employment's brave:
And Princess, I am thy Obedient Slave.
My Services shall such Reward deserve,
That I'le take care my labour shall not starve.
Allegiance can do much, but Interest more:
States-men serve Princes, not as Slaves dig o're
In Mines, t'enrich their Masters, and themselves be Poor:
In toyle and sweat, like them, we spend our hours:
But search the Mine to make the Treasure ours.
Exit.
The Scene changes. Enter Quitazo.
Quit.
What haunting fury did my Life pursue?
That me to this accurs't Election drew!
Forc'd by that Law this Court has long obey'd;
When any of the Imperial Daughters Wedd,
The Chinan Custom does her choice design,
Out of the twelve next Princes of the Line:
19
Must break all past, though ne're so sacred tyes;
Or that Imperial grace refus'd, he dyes.
Laws, Virtues, Fetters, a strict Tye, which still
Makes those good only, who want pow'r for ill
Actions which Honour prompts, and Love fulfils,
Are humane deeds by passions fram'd, and wills.
But they are Bruits whom only Love controuls:
For there our senses act without our Souls.
She's here, now must I speak that which I know;
When it takes breath, will give a mortal blow.
But to take off some horrour of the wound,
I will prepare her for the killing sound.
Enter Alcinda.
Alc.
Return'd from Court; kind Heaven, his presence here
Removes my dangers, and dispels my fear.
My dearest Lord, here take me in your Arms.
[They embrace.
Enter Lycungus.
Lycung.
So close a conference, & such melting eyes,
aside.
Pray Heav'n I guess but right.
aside.
Quit.
Ha, a Surprize! what brings him here?
Alc.
What unkind man is this,
Thus to intrude and interrupt my bliss!
Dear Sir, I will retire till he is gone:
My eager joys admit no lookers on.
Exit.
Lyc.
Well, well my Lord, you feel the growth of State:
All Eyes look smiling on your rising Fate.
The Cause that brought that Lady, brings me too.
No doubt all Sexes are your Suppliants now.
Quit.
What does he mean.
[aside.
Lyc.
—Ha's She obtain'd a grant?
Quit.
Of what!—Oh Torture!
[aside.
Lyc.
—Nay I know you want
No pow'r t'oblige; and by the view I took,
I read Petitions in her very Look.
Assist me Wit.
[aside.
Quit.
—Death! how he startles me.
[aside.
Lyc.
If her request, some Crown, some Kingdom be,
Do not deny her, think how large a pow'r
Is seated in a Chinan Emperor.
20
That petty Kingdoms are an easie Boon.
You from the Princess smiles more greatness have engrost,
Then any thing beneath a God can boast.
Quit.
(aside...)
He has eased my staggering Soul of half its fear:
'Tis flattery, not malice, brings him here:
He saw her last kind Looks, but thanks to his
False light, he read Petitions only in her eyes.
And 'tis a happy Errour; but to make
All safe, I will comply with the mistake. (...aside.)
You guest that Suppliant Ladys business right:
Her Father fell in the late Rebels Fight.
Great were her Countrys sufferings; great were her own;
And to repair what Fire and Sword has done;
She humbly from my bounty does implore
My Interest, her greatness to restore.
Lyc.
As I could wish
[aside.
—I knew her Father well:
'Twas by a poyson'd-Arrow that he fell.
And to pursue the Story, did not that
Afflicted Lady, forc'd by her hard Fate,
A Captive on the Conqueror's Triumphs wait?
Who by the Eyes of his fair Prey subdu'd,
With Threats of Death his furious Love pursu'd;
Till the poor frighted Lady lost the Field;
For her Lifes Ransom did her Honour yeeld:
But weakness did at last decide the strife,
And 'twas a Sacrifice to save a Life.
Quit.
Horrour! and Death! was ever such a Lye?
And not one Blush at the impiety!
She yeeld her Honour! God's, can you hear this!
But if your Thunder's not awake, mine is:
[Draws.
For this loud Blasphemy thou dyest.
Lyc.
Hold Sir,
Have I affronted you, or injur'd her?
If she has lost her Honour, where's th'Offence
To tell you so?
Quit.
—Oh savage Impudence!
Thy deserv'd Sentence I too long defer;
And thy one minut's Life wrongs Heav'n and Her.
21
Yet Sir be patient, and your Errour know:
Pray Sir, is not her Name Lycanza?
Quit.
—No.
Lyc.
Oh death! I am mistaken in the Face.
Sir, if my Penitence may obtain a Grace,
Pardon the Injury I never meant:
For ought I know I have abus'd a Saint.
And by delusion of my wandring sense,
Have cast a stain on Virgin Innocence.
Shame from your sight does the Offender take,
To blush in private for th'unkind mistake.
Exit
Quit.
Death on my blasted hopes; too late I find
This seeming Innocent Errour was design'd.
My Love's suspected, and this cursed spy
Has work't me to a full discovery.
My fury in her Cause all doubt removes;
To right her Honour, I've betray'd our Loves.
He wrought so subtly on my tenderest part;
I grew too fierce for Love, to think of Art.
Rage rais'd the Storm, and by blind Passion tost,
I could not see the Rock till I was lost.
This News to th'King and Princess Ears, is gone,
I dread that Vengeance which I'le strive to shun.
But to the Camp I must with speed repair,
And in disguise my Love shall meet me there.
Thus Arm'd, I'le both our sinking Fortunes prop,
And stem the Impetuous Tide I cannot stop.
Exit.
Re-enter Lycungus.
Lyc.
Th'Embraces were too close, and I've made bold
Kind Am'rous Lover to cut off your hold.
Thy Mistress is secure—
I took a silent and the safest way:
T'have rous'd the Lyon, were to have lost the prey,
All goes as I could wish. This Prize shall strait
To' th'Princess: I'le incense her to that height,
Her slighted smiles shall into Vengeance turn:
What kindness cannot warm, distain shall burn.
But if she prove too tardy in her hate:
If one impression cannot seal thy Fate,
22
With some enlargement of my own beside.
As though Alcinda be not Born t'a Crown;
He'le use his Sword to seat her in a Throne.
What though 'tis false, 'tis enough it bears
My sence: States men are Kings Interpreters.
All that approaches to a Monarch's fear,
Carrys no sence, but what we let it bear.
And when we rise, Truths must be Strangers there.
His Army must be mine, t'adorn my head,
Thy Love, Life, Pow'r, all at one stroak falls dead.
Then if my Sword grow wanton in my hand,
I shall but over-doe a Kings Command.
Exit.
| The conquest of China, By the Tartars | |