 | The Fair Captive |  |
1
ACT I.
SCENE, a Street before the Seraglio.Enter Alphonso, Pedro, and Servants.
Alph.
After the Toils of a long dangerous Voyage,
Safely, at last, we've reach'd Constantinople:
And sure, methinks, my Pedro, 'tis most hard,
This Heavenly Clime, this Earthly Paradise,
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Shou'd drag the Chains of Arbitrary Power.
Spite of her Pomp, she drooping, still laments
Her ravish'd Freedom, and her lost Estate:
Her Spices, Gums, her Odours, Wines, and Oil,
With all the Joys luxuriant Nature pours
Upon her Head, seem quite unknown, or tasteless;
Has the least share herself of her own Blessings,
And, like a Miser, pines in all her Plenty.
Ped.
What wondrous Revolutions has she seen,
And what Variety of Conquerors known?
Wild furious Nations from the Fields of Thrace;
The Hun, the Saracen, and dreadful Goth;
And last, this rugged, barbarous Scythian Crew,
From Icy Rocks, from cold Rhipæan Hills,
From Mountains cloth'd with everlasting Snow,
Like ravenous Beasts of Prey, come rushing down,
To change their Climate for a warmer Sun,
And fix the Standard of their stroling Prophet.
Greece, who to all the World around her taught
Ingenious Arts, Morality, and Arms,
Now quite forgets, herself, the Use of Letters;
And all involv'd in Clouds of Ignorance,
Sits mournful, brooding o'er her learned Ruins;
Her tuneful Streams are lost, her Fountains silent.
But, Brave Alphonso, let us turn our Eyes
From this ungrateful Prospect, and resume
A worthier Cause: Yes, Sir, the Cause which brought you
Hither, to redeem your Captive Mistress.
Alph.
Yes, Friend, I hope to find no Obstacle;
I've Gold good store to glut these fierce Barbarians,
And must, and will obtain my Isabella,
That lovely Maid, that dear, that heavenly Fair!
The brightest Soul that ever was infus'd
Into an Angel's Frame: I tell thee, Pedro,
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Fan'd from yon blooming Groves, when Eastern Gales,
With Aromatick Sighs, perfume the Air,
Are half so sweet, so soft as Isabella:
Her smallest Charm, to me, is of more worth
Than the whole Bulk of this extended Empire.
Ped.
Too well they know the Value of their Prize;
Or, for the Ransom which her Friends propos'd,
She had, e'er this, been render'd to your Arms.
Alph.
Oh! thou hast rouz'd a Thought which shocks my Soul;
My stifled Jealousies now blaze afresh,
And shoot their burning Arrows thro each Vein.
Wild and untaught, as is this Savage Race,
They yet have Eyes; and Beauty, such as hers,
Must raise Desire: And what may not Desire,
When arm'd with Power, obtain, or force? Honour,
How vainly have I sought, how dearly bought thee,
If, while my Country's Cause employ'd my Arm,
My Isabella's lost? How shou'd I curse
Those Wounds I thought my Glory while I felt 'em,
Since they detain'd me from the Calls of Love?
Oblig'd to wait a lingring Cure, who knows
What dull Embassadors her Friends employ'd?
Some trading Wretches, who ne'er knew the Worth
Of ought but Wealth; meer Haglers of the Market:
Were such fit Men to treat for Isabella?
Ped.
My Lord, her Father gave them full Commission
To offer Sums immense to buy her Freedom;
Yet still they made Pretences to detain her.
Alph.
A Lover wou'd not have been so put off:
Had I been here, if Intercession fail'd,
To Stratagem I shou'd have had recourse;
And next, to Force.
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Alas! what Hopes in Force,
When the Seraglio Walls withhold her from you,
And Guards of Eunuchs watch her every Motion?
'Tis Policy alone can aid your Wishes.
The Jew who came aboard our Vessel, pretends
A vast Intelligence and Interest; on him
My Hopes are chiefly built.
Alph.
'Tis near the Hour
In which he promis'd to return with News,
And see he comes! Pedro, methinks I see
A dancing Joy dart from his gloomy Eyes,
And speak Success.
Enter the Jew.
Now, my Mercury,
Sits the Wind fair, or must we look for Storms,
E'er we can reach this happy Land of Love?
Jew.
Gold, which does all things, has dispell'd the Clouds,
Which so long hover'd o'er your rising Hopes,
And a whole Heaven of Joy now breaks upon you:
I have engag'd no meaner Friend than Haly,
Chief of the Eunuch Train to serve your Wishes.
But let us hence—Some haughty Musselmen,
Earnest in Conference, approach this Way;
Within I'll tell you more.
Alph.
My better Angel.
[Exeunt.
Enter Ozmin and Achmat.
Ach.
Yes, 'tis this Visier governs all: The Sultan,
Grown old in Power, now nods upon the Throne,
And holds, with such a slack and weaken'd Hand,
The Reins of Empire, that I am amaz'd
They drop not from him quite. One bears the Name,
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The Visier's Marriage with the fair Irene,
Our Royal Master's Daughter, has drawn close
The Gordian Knot, that binds the Sultan to him:
He now seems fix'd and firm.
Ozm.
Fix'd as he stands,
This pregnant Head has form'd a Plot shall shake him:
You see I trust thee, Achmat.
Ach.
Ozmin, you may.
I have more Cause than you to hate the Visier;
A luckless Brother's Ghost, yet unappeas'd,
Still cries aloud for Vengeance: Blood for Blood.
Ozm.
To indulge his own hot Passion for Irene,
He laid that Snare for her unhappy Lord,
And urg'd the Sultan to that rash Attempt
On fierce Lorain, that Thunderbolt of War;
Where your brave Brother did not only fall,
But Thousand faithful Mussulmen beside him,
Were barbarously mangled at Vienna.
I scape'd indeed, but there the Turkish Glory
Was all trod down, never to rise again.
Your Brother dead, the Villain gain'd his Ends;
Irene's Wishes dy'd not with her Lord:
He quickly woo'd, and won her to his Purpose,
But waded to her Bed thro Seas of Blood.
Ach.
Revenge may sleep, but never, never dies;
Even while I speak, the darling Passion fires me,
Informs me like a God: 'tis rooted here,
Glows in each Vein, and quickens every Pulse.
Death's Icy Hand shall one day close these Eyes,
And every Thought may with my Being cease;
Then, then perhaps shall I forgive the Visier:
But while Remembrance prompts this active Brain,
I shall be still most watchful for a Season
To pluck the high-rais'd Villain from his Seat,
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Ozm.
Already she repents her ill-plac'd Love:
Not all her Beauties have the Charm to fix him;
Weary, and surfeited with her Embraces,
He seeks new Joys in a fair Christian's Arms,
A Captive Maid, ta'en in the Spanish War.
This I discover'd, and inform'd her of;
With artful Words instill'd the stealing Poison:
And now her haughty Soul with Jealousy
Swells ev'n to bursting; by this means I hope
To work the Visier's Ruin: The Arrows of Revenge
Ne'er fly so sure, as when their Points are tipt
With Woman's Malice.
Ach.
You much amaze me:
Fame speaks him fond, even to Dotage, on her.
Ozm.
Oh! he dissembles ev'n to Admiration,
And trust me, Achmat, 'tis his Master Talent:
Nature has form'd him all Hypocrisy;
His Words, his Voice, his Looks wear deep Deceit:
Not one unguarded Motion e'er betrays
The Workings of his Soul, but always seems
What he'd be thought, not what he truly is.
Ach.
Since such a Master in the Art of Feigning,
By what strange Means was his new Flame reveal'd?
Ozm.
Since sworn, with me, the Visier's deadly Foe,
And Brother in Revenge, you shall be told
The only now remaining Secret. You knew
Mirvan, the late Bashaw of Adrianople.
Ach.
Most perfectly.
Ozm.
You must remember too,
He died that same curs'd Day, in which
This hateful Visier marry'd with Irene.
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I do.
Ozm.
After his Death, some private Business
Requir'd my sudden Presence at his House;
Where, as I walk'd in an adjacent Garden,
I heard a Woman's Voice in loud Complaints:
At first I took it for th'Effects of Sorrow
For a dear Father's Loss, for soon I saw
It was the Daughter of my good old Friend;
But as I approach'd more near, and heard distinctly
Some Words, which Desperation made her utter,
I found 'twas Rage, and disappointed Love,
Which caus'd her Griefs, not filial Piety.
The Name of Mustapha with Curses mingled,
And dreadful Imprecations on his Falshood,
Left me no room to doubt the Visier's Guilt.
Ach.
Unhappy Maid!
Ozm.
Soon as she saw me,
With distracted Motion she wou'd have fled the Place,
But strait I stopt her, and with soothing Art
Prevail'd upon her, since I had heard so much,
To unload on me her heavy Weight of Anguish:
And in the Sequel of the dismal Tale,
Confess'd the Visier had betray'd her Honour,
Then basely left her to repent her Fondness.
A sudden Thought then rising in my Brain,
I vow'd to assist her in some just Revenge,
Which Time should ripen into Form:
She readily embrac'd the friendly Offer,
And but a few Days past, e'er I found Means
To introduce her into the Seraglio;
Where, in an Eunuch's Garb disguis'd, she now resides.
Ach.
But what imports this, to our great Design?
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Oh! Achmat, 'tis of mighty consequence.
She watches every Motion of the Visier,
And that same under-working Villain, Haly!
And brings me true Intelligence of all
Their Midnight Plottings, and their dark Designs:
By her the weighty Secret is discover'd,
By which I hope to sink 'em both in Ruin;
But she appears. Hail to the Star which guides me
Thro the wild Road of dark Uncertainty,
And points me out the Way to Fame and Vengeance.
Enter Daraxa.
Nay, start not, Fair, nor let that noble Blood,
Which warms thy Heart with more than manly Vigour,
Forsake it now, to paint thy blushing Cheeks.
Achmat, the Janisaries worthy Aga,
Thy Father's Friend, and Partner in the Hate
We jointly bear to the vile changing Visier,
May well deserve Daraxa's Confidence.
Dar.
Much have I heard of noble Achmat's Fame;
And oft have heard my Father speak his Praise,
With Rhetorick such as raptur'd Lovers use.
Nor shou'd I blush, unless it were for Joy,
To find such Virtue did befriend our Cause,
If I, like him, for Virtue's sake alone
Became the Visier's Foe; but Oh! my Shame,
My never-ending Shame, must be proclaim'd,
And the same Breath which says, I hate the Visier,
Must also say, Nor can my Soul deny it;
Had I not lov'd too well, I had not hated.
Ach.
Your gentle Sex, unurg'd by Injuries,
Are foft and kind, as the descending Dew,
Refreshing where it falls; but poison'd once
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Your very Nature changes to its contrary,
And kills the Stems, whose Roots it fed before.
Dar.
Unbred to Politicks, and little vers'd
I'th'Sophistry of Courts, or Statesman's Art,
I shou'd not have believ'd the Visier base,
Had not his Wrongs to me unseal'd my Eyes,
And taught me, he that so foully cou'd betray
A Maid who lov'd him, might betray the World.
Justice is Justice even to the meanest,
And those who scruple not at petty Ills
To purchase petty Pleasures, will, when greater
Excite their Appetite, act Crimes proportion'd.
Ozm.
True, my fair Oracle, and mark how swift
This tow'ring Monster climbs the steep Ascent,
Which leads to all his wild Ambition aims at;
But one Step more, and he o'erlooks the World:
The Sultan's Life is all that now remains
To lift him past the Reach of our Revenge.
Ach.
E'er he removes that Bar, my Rage shall find him,
And plunge him from this Precipice of Greatness,
With sudden-sounding Ruin, in the Deep.
Dar.
Our Holy Prophet's Care will guard the Sultan,
And sink his Foes in everlasting Shame.
But I forgot, Expresses are arriv'd,
Which speak, the Sultan has left Adrianople,
And will with speed return to the Seraglio.
Ozm.
We must not then be idle. Be it your Care
To keep your Janizaries Rage still warm;
Their just Complaints and Murmurs for their Pay,
Which this vile Visier basely has detain'd,
In part will show the Traytor. I'th'mean time
I'll to the Princess, fire her jealous Soul
10
Dar.
Some private Letters seem to please her strangely;
While she was reading, as I near her waited,
I saw unusual Joy spread o'er her Face:
Perhaps to you she will reveal their Purport.
Ozm.
I'll haste and fathom it. Farewell.
[Exit.
Ach.
Success attend you.
[Exit.
Dar.
Farewell, ingenious Lords,
But have a care you are not caught yourselves.
Methinks I walk as in a Magick Circle,
Where seeing all, I am by all unseen;
Oh! that this Garb cou'd hide me from myself!
That I indeed could be the thing I seem,
Cou'd root out all the Tenderness that's here,
And nothing of my Sex retain, but Pride:
Then I might take Revenge on this false Visier,
As ample as his Perjuries deserve.
These Men, by their own Interest chiefly led,
Wou'd make my seeming Hate their Plea for Ruin;
Yet Mustapha, I'll guard thee from their Malice,
Tho I will plague thee, torture thee severely,
Confound thy Peace, as thou hast mine destroy'd;
But for thy Life, I'll watch with zealous Care,
And ward off every Blow which threatens there.
[Exit.
Enter Alphonso, Pedro, and Haly.
Hal.
Nay, worthy Christian, Twenty Thousand Ducats
Is something too extravagant a Bounty:
However, I'll endeavour to deserve them;
Serve thee, tho with the Hazard of my Head.
What tho the Sultan, fir'd with her Description,
Comes big with Wishes to possess her Charms,
And feast luxuriant on her Virgin Beauties;
Yet—
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Horror and Death!
Hal.
Nay, start not, noble Christian,
E'en this impending Storm I will dissolve.
This Night shall give your Mistress to your Arms,
And e'er the Sultan reach Constantinople,
You may be past his Power.
Alp.
Thou Friend indeed; Alphonso's Soul's too full
To speak his Gratitude, but Deeds shall thank thee.
Hal.
At Dead of Night repair to the Seraglio,
Where in Disguise a Slave of mine shall wait,
And safely lead the lovely Captive to thee;
Then thro a private Garden strait conduct you
To the Sea-side unseen, and unsuspected.
Alp.
Oh boundless Happiness! But indulgent Eunuch,
Is there no Means e'er that to see my Love?
Just snatch a transient View to cheer my Soul,
My longing Soul, which burns with fierce Impatience.
Hal.
This credulous Fool shall not be wholly cheated. [Aside.
Even this, tho difficult, I will perform;
Go dress thee in the Habit of a Mussulman,
And at yon gilded Gate attend my coming:
But, Christian, as the advent'rous Task I set thee,
Perhaps may bear some little face of Danger,
I hope thy Courage—
Alp.
Courage, in that Cause!
Tho every step I trod on burning Irons,
I'd pass undaunted to behold that Fair-one.
Hal.
Haste then, and wait the Blessing that attends thee.
[Exit Haly.
Ped.
Alphonso, spare my Blushes, and forgive
The fond Expostulations of a Friend;
Consider yet once more, restrain your Wishes:
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Alp.
Ah Pedro! hadst thou ever lov'd like me?
Cou'd'st thou but think for what a Prize I venture,
Or only feel but half what I endure;
Believe me, Friend, thou wou'dst not talk thus coldly?
Is there a way to see my Isabella!
And shall I shun it for a Shew of Danger!
I long, I burn to clasp the charming Maid!
To press the melting Fair-One to my Breast!
To hear her talk, and tell me all her Sorrows!
And sooth her into Peace, with Sounds of Love.
Ped.
How vain is Reason, when oppos'd by Passion!
But if my Fears should prove—
Alp.
Away with Fears!
I'll listen only to the Voice of Rapture!
I go to Isabella! Bear, ye Winds,
That Sound in gentle Whispers to her Ears!
Tell her, her Lover comes to set her free,
To ease her Sufferings, and dispel her Griefs.
So, when despairing Ariadne lay,
Expos'd, alone, to savage Beasts a Prey;
An am'rous God flew swiftly to her Aid,
Fir'd with her Charms, and sav'd the lovely Maid.
[Exeunt.
| The Fair Captive | |