 | The conquest of China, By the Tartars |  |
The Third ACT.
Scene the First.
After a sound of Trumpets, Enter Theinmingus, Zungteus, Palexus, and Tartars with drawn Swords as from Battel.Theinmingus.
In this days Action we have Glory bought:
Now the Chineses have been kind, and fought.
Zung.
That brave Young Man, the late Ambassadour,
Who in defiance of your threatning Pow'r,
Did to your Face the Chinan War proclaim;
His Hand makes work for Graves, his Praise for Fame.
Renown in all the Miracles of this
Great day, is dumb to any Name, but His.
He and his small Brigade so fierce engage,
They've in one day made Story for an Age.
Breaking our Ranks, he Fate distributes round;
Wounds on each stroak attend, Death on each Wound.
He Kills with such a gay undaunted Port;
Fighting seems not his business, but his Sport.
His Looks and Actions speak in different styles.
Rage frowns in others Brows, in his it smiles.
That makes him in this more than humane Task,
Seem both to act a Slaughter, and a Mask.
23
Praising a Foe in such a stile as this,
You prove your glory in describing his.
Heroe's from Heroe's tongues, no Fame e're lost:
They give praise frankest who deserve it most.
Zung.
Sir, I remember this brisk Youth, when he
His charge to you deliver'd, challeng'd me.
And I by th'Envy of his actions brought,
Through the whole Battel have the Champion sought.
But I observe, and wonder for what cause,
He from that place where-e're I come, with-draws.
Yet still, to shew, he makes a brave Retreat;
When almost within reach of Swords we meet,
Lays Crouds of slaughter'd Souldiers at my feet.
As if he meant
By his own Trophies t'have my Chase with-held,
And bar'd our meeting by the heaps he kill'd.
Thein.
Charge him once more, and your first Chase renew,
And try—If above man he be immortal too.
Zung.
Now if Fate favours me, His Sword I'le try.
Yet one thing startles me, I know not why;
When e're I meet him, Arm'd with all the fire
That Envy can a Souldiers breast inspire,
His looks disarm me, and my Rage divert:
I've a desire to vanquish, but not hurt.
Sure some Divinity restrains my will:
He's th'only man I'de Conquer, but not Kill.
Exeunt.
After several Excursions, and continued sounds of Trumpets, Enter Amavanga, Vangona, and Women in Mens habit.
Am.
Fate, kind Companions of our glorious Toyls,
On our great Cause and greater Conduct smiles.
In this day's Action we have Honour won:
And though our Sex wears Clouds, our Fame wears none.
Fame th'airy Magick of the great, whose breath
Does make our Names like Ghosts, walk after death.
Which to great spirits does this Faith convey:
To live to morrow, is to dye to day.
Enter Lycungus.
Lyc.
Sir, my great Masters Will I here proclaim,
Who wishes you Immortal, as your Fame.
24
At what he from this Bloody day has learn'd;
To the proud Tartar has a Herauld sent;
The Fate of lingring Sieges to prevent.
T'accept a Duel, and their great debate,
End by a single hand; to finish what
The tardy Chance of War but longer draws:
War the Tribunal of a Monarchs Cause:
Where Might speaks Reason, and where force pleads Law.
Where often Suits so slow t'a period draw;
E're the Cause ends, the Pleaders meet their Fates;
And the Dispute out-lives the Advocates.
The Tartar his Proposals does accept;
And since Fame has on you such Honours heap'd:
Our Gracious King excited by the Charm
Of what Success waits on your Conqu'ring Arm.
On your brave hand confers this high Renown,
To win a Lawrel where it saves a Crown.
Am.
Oh my kind Stars, go let your hast take wings,
And bear my Thanks back to the best of Kings.
My Lawrels blossom on my Brows—But stay,
With my most humble thanks my Pride convey.
Tell him a greater and more glorious task
He could not grant, nor my Ambition ask.
Lyc.
Quitazo, his great General implor'd
This favour from his hand, t'accept a Sword.
But his intreaties did succesless prove,
Urg'd by the fondness of the Princess Love.
Who would not trust her dear Quitazo's Fate,
To the bold chance of such a strict debate.
Which glorious Charge, your Vallours juster due,
His Suit rejected, he assigns to you.
Exit.
Am.
His thronging favours too Excessive grow.
Fate never was a Prodigal till now.
After Shouts heard from a distance, Enter a Messenger.
Mess.
Fortune still lays new Honour at your Feet:
You shall a Noble Adversary meet.
The Tartars in these Shouts speak their applause;
Proud that their Prince Zungteus weds their Cause.
25
The Ballance of this mighty Empire stands.
Am.
Zungteus, Oh the Gods! what have I done!
The only man whom I in Arms would shun.
O'retake the Herauld in his hasty flight,
And bid him tell the King I will not Fight.
Vang.
Not Fight?
Am.
—Not with Zungteus, call him back.
Vang.
—No, stay.
Am.
How?
Vang.
—Love Commands what Honour can't obey.
Would you a generous King so ill requite,
And check that Fame which takes so high a flight?
Am.
Oh thou rash Honour, whose too eager Zeal,
Made me t'a Contract not look't o're set Seal;
Honour a frantick Lust in Souls sublime,
Of leaping o're what Prudence stays to climb!
The King I hope by this time understands,
That my fierce Answer came from feeble hands.
And will conclude from my too brisk reply,
I talk too much to fit a part so high.
Vang.
Your quick acceptance merits his applause;
T'have askt your Foe, e're you embrac'd the Cause,
That were t'have chose where safely you might strike:
Great Valour weighs all Enemies alike.
You in your swift Compliance have exprest
Such Gallantry, the King will trust the rest.
His Confidence no further tryal needs:
He builds his Faith upon your former Deeds.
Am.
If in my former Deeds I'm so much blest;
My Fame and I may now sit down and rest.
And since I have so many Lawrels wore,
Tell him I'm modest, and will win no more.
Vang.
In this Retreat you would your Fame deface,
And shew you had begun a glorious Race;
But wanted Courage to pursue the Chase;
Am.
I'le tell him I'm a Woman, and resign
To a manly hand, which is too great for mine.
Vang.
You ought great deeds the rather to pursue;
As from a Woman they're more rare, and new.
26
I'le tell him I'm a Lover.
Vang.
—That Excuse
A dangerous suspition would produce
Both of your Courage and Allegiance too.
To own a Love for China's mortal Foe,
Would sound but harshly to the Emperours Ear.
As if your private fancy you prefer
Before your Countreys Cause: 'Tis a less blot
To be an ill Lover, than bad Patriot.
Am.
I'le tell him then I am—
Vang.
—A Coward.
Am.
—How?
Vang.
If your fond thoughts to this tame faintness bow,
Your honour all is at one blast expir'd:
They'l say e're half your Race was run, you tyr'd.
And 'tis far less ignoble not to have
Been ever fam'd, then not continue brave.
Am.
A Coward!
Who but appear's a Coward, though abused,
Is sentenc'd in his being but accused.
The Name's almost as heinous as the guilt.
That Title ruines all my Honour built.
And if my shrinking thoughts too lowly move,
I'm impudent if I pretend to Love.
Coward and Lover are of different kind:
Love's the most daring passion of the mind.
'Tis a Majestick and a Royal Guest,
And scornes to Lodge in an unhallow'd breast.
Whom Cowardise insects, Love's fire ne'r felt.
It is the dross of Souls and cannot melt.
I'le meet him then, and do my self this Right.
I'le shew that I can Love, 'cause I dare Fight.
Since I admire a Man so high in Fame,
I'le keep up Glory to support my flame.
Exeunt.
SCENE the Third.
Enter Lycungus and Orunda.Orund.
Quitazo false!
My greatness and my Love despis'd! and his
Perfidious heart the fair Alcinda's prize!
27
Their setled Loves Ambition cannot shake;
Nor all the assaults that Pow'r or Death can make.
Orund.
Oh my hard fortune: Born so near a Crown,
And carry no more Thunder in my Frown!
False and dim Lights, boast your faint Charms no more,
And feeble greatness thy faln State deplore.
pointing to her Eyes.
Weak Majesty, and weaker Beauty too!
A heart I cannot shake I cannot bow!
None but thy Ruine shall my Rage appease:
No storms like those which injur'd Lovers raise.
Poor and Effeminate Revenge stand by:
Is going.
No common furies can my Gall supply:
Is going.
Rivals best pleasure, Rivals when they dye.
Is going.
Lyc.
Stay Injur'd Princess, though in you just Heav'n
To the World Copies of it self ha's given:
Should all adore you, Gods were then too kind,
And have
For you more homage than themselves design'd.
Beauty like Heav'n so large a sway ne'r bears,
To make all men Religious worshippers.
Let my devotion Expiate his Crimes:
Let me adore what his disdain Blasphemes.
Orund.
How Sir! Dares your aspiring fancy rove
So high, t'assault my Ear, attempt my Love!
My kindness to Quitazo so soon cold.
Were his heart guarded more than Misers gold,
Or fighting Monarchs Crowns, his Breast more Steel
Than Lightning e'r would melt, yet he shall feel
The fierce Attaque my mighty power shall make.
But if Love, Rage, Fate and Death's powr's too weak:
If after all, I cannot overcome,
But by her Murder, and his Martyrdome;
Were his Ingratitude greater than 'tis,
Yet still I scorn all other Love but his.
Exit.
Lyc.
Well, what my slighted passion cannot do,
That end I by Ambition will pursue.
In sluggish Breasts Love's idle frenzy rules:
Ambition is the Lust of all great Souls.
28
Orund.
Justice, great Sir, on a wrong'd Daughters score,
From a kind Father I this grace Implore.
That Justice as a King you can't deny;
Which lends Heav'n Thunder, and you Majesty.
The false Quitazo my just right denys;
He does my Love and your Commands despise:
And pays his homage to Alcinda's Eyes.
Lycun.
Whatsoever doom your Justice shall decree,
She is secured, and waits her destiny.
King.
Is Insolence so high, and King so low?
That to my will his Pride disdains to bow!
My Power by a Mortal and a Subject dar'd
Kings, and out-live that minute we are fear'd!
Crafty Quitazo does my Army lead:
That shelter for a while protects his Head.
But for his guilt to their quick Graves I'le send
All that but call him Brother, Son, or Friend.
I'le punish his Affront on his whole Race,
And from Man-kind his hated Name deface.
Alcinda's Blood first Expiates her sin:
Her strangled Pride shall the first Scene begin:
And to confirm my Rage, I'le pluck out all
Their Eyes, that shed a Tear to see her fall.
[Whispers to one of his Attendants. Exit.
Orund.
This is too much: So many Bleed? How high
Does th'anger of Affronted Monarchs flye?
Whole Families destroy'd! his Rage so loud!
Her Murder will be lost in such a Croud.
Lyc.
But in that Croud your hated Rival dyes.
Orund.
Yes, to his Rage, not mine, a Sacrifice.
Enter Alcinda pursued by Mutes, who entring kneels is the King.
Alc.
Of your displeasure what can be the cause?
I am too young to break Imperial Laws.
King.
Why tardy Slaves this insolent delay?
Take her and strangle her.
Orund.
—No, great Sir, stay.
29
And though my thoughts no mercy do design,
My Anger's yet too cold to see her fall.
To my Remembrance first his scorn I'le call:
Then sound her heart; and when
I from her Bosom have those Secrets drawn,
Which yours and my Divinity profane.
When my rack'd Eares have heard all that may swell
My Vengeance to th'highest Rage on this side Hell:
Then when my heated Pride to Fury turns,
Her breath shall blow that fire in which she burns.
They best the dictates of Revenge fulfil,
Who Sentence in hot Blood, and raging Kill.
King.
Your Courage pleads so well, and nobly too;
That Justice I design'd, I leave to you.
But dare not see it acted, but retire,
Lest I should envy what I now admire.
Exit. King.
Orund.
Madam, you've Beauty which should hearts engage,
And claim the spoils due to a blooming Age.
And 'mongst the Captives, which your Fetters wear,
Quitazo pays his humble homage there.
Alc.
Quitazo! Oh what Bliss dwells in that Name!
Quitazo is a Prince deserv's more Fame
Than Conquer'd Crowns, or Conquer'd Hearts can yeeld.
But if he ne'r so large an Empire held,
O're Souls more Proud, and Beautys more Divine;
He'd triumph only, that he Raigns in mine.
Orund.
I have my wish; she has not learnt the Art,
[aside.
To mask her thoughts, I shall disclose her heart,
And Madam as you'r blest with Youth and Charms,
And softness fit for a young Lovers Arms:
No doubt you finding Providence so kind,
Know for what use such Blessings are design'd.
Does not a silent wish, and warm desire
Tell you 'tis pitty so much Youthful fire,
To distant Gazers that approach no nigher,
Should rise each Morning, and each Evening set,
And wast in giving only light, not heat?
And so your yeelding kindness do's ordain,
Quitazo shall that Vanquish't Empire gain.
30
I understand not what desires you mean.
I know I have a heart does entertain
All that may make him happy, all that may
In Love's bright Temple shine, in meeting Souls look gay.
All that may make me wish—
Orund.
Oh she Stabs me.
[aside.
Alc.
—You would forgive,
I only for his sake desire to live.
Orund.
Yes you shall live—
—A minute, and that's all,
If I hold out so long before her fall.
aside.
But what return has your affection had?
Alcind.
The best and kindest that Man-kind e'r made.
He tells me of arm'd Deities that fly
Invisible betwixt my Lip and Eye;
Of young wing'd Boys, and felt but unseen fire;
Of little pains which 'gainst his Rest conspire.
And yet we feel no pains but what we make:
And those are pleasant for their Author's sake.
And thus with all that our full joys can raise,
We Gaze and Languish, Talk, and Sigh whole days.
But when the Night, the Night draws on—
Orund.
—What then?
Alcind.
We part as if we ne'r should meet agen.
Orund.
Revenge thou hast enough. Fond Girle, how dare
You reach at Glory's I design to wear?
But your own breath's your Sentence. Slaves go on.
To the Mutes.
Alcin.
Oh Madam, save my Life—
Orund.
—Let it be done,
She cannot dye quick, you kill too quick.
Alc.
Hold, Villains, hold; low at your Feet I lye.
Ah Madam, I can Love, but cannot dye.
Orund.
No more.
Alc.
—First hear me.
Orund.
—Well, what can you say?
Alcind.
All just Commands for Life I will obey.
Orund.
Will you Resign?—
Alcind.
—Resign!—I'le yeeld you shall
Have all Quitazo's breast can grant ye. All
31
Orund.
—And Love?
Alcind.
—And Love can pay.
You shall his humble hearts Allegiance sway.
And what no disobedience can destroy,
You shall his kindness and his smiles enjoy.
Orund.
And is this all?
Alcind.
No, you shall sit and gaze, and at his sight
See day in his calm brow, a full cleer light.
Where bright and gentle Beams, and wanton Darts,
Shall sport, and play, and steal from eyes to hearts:
Then you shall hear him speak words so refin'd,
Language so Ravishing, a style so kind,
That in the Raptures of a Bliss so high,
You'l doubt which tasts most Heav'n, your Ear or Eye.
And after all, you shall enjoy these Charms,
To Love him—and admire him—in my Arms.
Orund.
Your Arms! Oh Rage!
Alcind.
My Arms! why then you did design
That he should rest in any Armes but mine;
Oh no! you said it but to fright me sure;
You cannot wish him so unkind. He Swore
He'd rest in none but mine; and those, they say,
Who do their Sacred Vows and Oaths betray,
Shall meet with Curses, and black frightful things,
And horrid fear which perjur'd Bosoms stings.
But since his Vow's performance will remove
Those ills, and you pretend to so much Love:
Your Love is not so mean, nor Cruel sure,
To let him suffer Ills, which I can Cure.
Orund.
'Tis done, Revenge at last has got the day:
Her Innocence shall no more her Death delay.
Here Kill, Stab, Strangle, any thing—
Alcind.
Murdrers, come:
I've vanquisht fear, and I embrace my Doom.
Here Villains, Kill, Stab, Strangle; all
Is for his Love a Sacrifice too small.
Now all the Trophy your high Pride shall have,
Shall be to walk Triumphant o're my Grave.
I value his least look so high—
That Love and Fear shall be no more at strife;
32
Here Ministers of Fate, make hast—
Orund.
—No, Live.
I for your Courage do your Crime forgive.
None but your height of Love has sav'd your Head.
Live, and Love on; for it shall ne'r be said,
Orunda could perform so mean a part,
To kill a Rival to subdue a Heart.
I'le take a harder, but a nobler course:
And though, as the King's Daughter, I by force
Could make him yeeld; that intrest I'le resign:
My Merit, not my Pow'r, shall make him mine.
Use all your Arts, all your united pow'rs:
My Love and kindness shall out-ballance yours.
No injur'd Lover could so gen'rous be,
To save a Sentenc'd Rivals Life like me.
Yet in that Siege I'le lay to his proud breast,
Of my great deeds thy pardon is the least.
Go then and Love him; but acquaint your feet
With such by-Paths, that we may never meet.
Take hence that sight. Those Eyes too clearly shine,
And that, which lights his Bosom, darkens mine.
Exit Alcinda.
Say, Sir, my mercy how do you approve?
'Tis for my Honour, and I hope my Love.
Quitæzo, if he ought that's brave regard,
This generous Act must gratefully reward.
Lyc.
Yes, doubt it not, you will not find him rude:
Nor is he guilty of Ingratitude.
He will requite your kindness and your charms.
Orun.
But when?—
Lyc.
—This day
Orun.
—Where?
Lyc.
—In Alcinda's Arms.
Her Woman, Madam, is my Confident;
And has but now this private Message sent:
Quitazo has an Assignation made,
To meet his Mistress in a silent shade;
The place where the Scene's laid.
33
Without the Eastern gate, and this account
'Tis brings him there to defie King, Laws, Fate,
And all that may disturb their happy State.
And thus remov'd, her person he'l secure
From danger of an Angry Rival's pow'r.
Orun.
Why was this Cursed News no sooner told?
Doe's she her Life from my high Bounty hold?
Did I permit her Love, nay and command it too?
And can she treacherously her Love pursue?
I gave her leave to Conquer but not steal.
Mercy, henceforth the Attribute of Hell,
Hast thou betray'd me?
Revenge shall in thy Room this Seat Supply:
Alcinda by Orunda's Hand shall Dye.
Tell me Lycungus by what means I may
My Fury to her Trembling Soul display:
This Woman in his Fond Embrace Surprize,
And tear her Heart before her Lovers Eyes.
Lyc.
Should your Hand execute a Criminal's Doom,
'Twould not your Greatness nor your Sex become:
That Justice then t'a meaner Hand resign:
Be yours the Glory, let the Toyl be mine.
Trust it to me.
Orun.
—Doe't then, but do it so,
I may applaud and envy at the Blow.
Lyc.
Whil'st they sit dallying in a Close Embrace;
I'th Grove an Ambush of Arm'd Men I'le place,
Who from his Arms his amorous Prey shall snatch,
And down her Throat a pois'nous Draught dispatch,
To summon out her Soul to that low'r Shade,
Where Wrongs of injur'd Majesty are paid.
Orun.
See instantly the Fatal Draught prepar'd:
And take a Princess thanks for a Reward.
[Exit.
Lyc.
Ye Gods of China, if you are such tame
And inoffensive things, as our Priests frame,
Whose Pious Eares and Eyes and tender Sense
Delights in nought but Good and Innocence:
Draw back your Sun, and vele your selves in night:
I shall Act Deeds, which all weak Eyes will fright.
34
Couragious, savage, feirce and bold like me.
Heav'n wear no Clouds, and Gods take a full veiw:
Look and Admire at what my Hand dares doe.
[Exit.
Re-enter Orunda.
Orun.
Poyson'd and I not there! Though Modesty
T'a Female Hand that Vengeance do's deny;
In a Disguise I'le meet 'em in the Grove
Spectatour to this Horrid Scene of Love.
And if the weaker Potion can't suffice,
I will make up the Poyson from my Eyes.
[Exit.
Enter Quitazo and Alcinda.
What angry Murmur do's disturb your Mind,
To blame a Fate so Glorious and so Kind
Rais'd to an Empire and a Princess Arms,
Beyond the Reach of my more Humble Charms?
What sawcy Trouble dares Create your Frown.
Can Sighs or Sorrow dwell so neer a Crown?
Quit.
Do not so Cruelly my Misfortunes treat,
Who owe my Ruine to my being Great.
Though a King's Heir, and Empire's Favourite,
I am not brighter for such Rays of Light.
I'm darkned by the Lustre I have won;
As Moores are Black by being too near the Sun.
But do not fear that Seat your Power secur's,
His Empire Madam shall not Ruine yours.
My heart shall wear no Chain's, but what you gave,
Kings may our Bodies not our Souls Enslave.
Alcin.
Boast not that Constancy your Soul will keep
For when Quitazo in her Arms shall sleep;
You nor your Dreams so kind will scarcely prove,
To loose one Thought on my forgotten Love.
Though me, poor me, you with unkindness kill,
Yet my good Wishes wait upon you still.
And when—
In her high Arms I veiw you from a far,
A Princess Husband, and an Empires Heir:
I'le Mourn to quit you, but be Proud to see
You Happy, though for ever lost to me.
35
Why did you suffer me to go, when I
With Tears implor'd your leave to stay and dy?
Let Law and King have done the worst they cou'd:
It had been juster t'have expos'd my Blood,
Than but the hazard of your Loss have stood.
Alcin.
Talk not of Death—the Death of my Dear Lord.
Oh 'tis halfe dying but to hear the Word!
I love your Life so well, that, Sir, you know
To save your Life, 'twas I that bid you go.
I knew at worst 'twould a less Torture be
To see you live for her than dye for me.
Besides all Women choose not with one voice.
She in that number might have mist my Choice.
But Oh! she saw you in a Fatal Hour:
And since your Love or Life's not in my Pow'r:
Dear Sir choose Life; Do not my Victime fall.
Be she and her Crown yours: they must they shall—
I beg you'd live.
Quit.
—Ah Madam! and can you
Command me to be false?
Alcin.
—Yes Sir I do.
Owe her your Life; Live hers, and happy Reign.
I bid you doe't—as much as e're I can.
Quit.
I rather will the utmost hazard Run,
Than yield to be by Loyalty undone.
No, for my Constancy this way I'le choose,
This Day he must his Empire save or loose.
If Fate, as, ye kind Pow'rs, I hope it will,
On his just cause and his great Champion smile:
His Peace recover'd, my Commission dyes.
And when I have no further Services
T'oblige my Country or defend my King,
Then Conqu'ring Beauty shall it's Triumph Sing.
Retir'd from Court wee'l to some Cell remove,
And what we loose in Greatness gain in Love.
But if (which Heav'n forbid) he is O'rthrown,
Then I more Safely may my passion own,
And stand his Anger when his Thunder's gon.
Alcin.
If you prove true (a Work I fear too hard)
Your Faith I shall admire, and Heav'n Reward.
36
Must in her Kind Embraces find a Grave:
I'le borrow Life enough on Earth to stay,
Till I have seen your Fatal Nuptial Day.
And at that Minute when the Sacred Rite
(My title Cancell'd) do's your Hands unite,
What I want Breath to speak, my Looks shall tell,
And take—
Of your departing Love a long Fare-well.
Then, if my Heart—
Be not quite broke, to your Bed-side I'le come,
And wait on your dead Kindness to it's Tomb.
Then from my Rival I'le this favour win,
Which both of you may grant without a Sin,
I will sleep by you,—but ne'r wake agin.
I Love so well, I can your Crime forgive:
But Love too well, that pardon to Out-live.
But lest my Ghastly Looks,—
When I am dead, should your New Mistress fright,
And Rob you of one Minute of Delight:
I'le dress my Brow so gay, I'le Death beguile,
Breath out my Soul, expiring in a Smile.
Quit.
Oh my dear Princess, if my King Decree
I must his Son or else his Martyr be:
I will my Life but not my Love resign:
I'le Set in Glory, where I cannot Shine,
And Fate so Charming—but what Bliss more High
Is't to live yours, if 'tis so great to dye.
[Exeunt.
| The conquest of China, By the Tartars | |