University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE, The Emperor's Closet. Sizangar alone.
Sizang.
Why thus delays the Emp'ror his Approach,
When, with such Haste, they brought me?
Something, sure,
Of great Importance, holds him. I propos'd
To warn, and save him, from the Death, foretold,
By his Son's Hand: 'Twas not a trifling Offer!
All is not well! A silent Check, within,
Reproves my Purpose: True; Caimantha, living,
Rais'd me to all I am; Caimantha, dead,
Shall I, so rais'd by Her, betray her Son?
Base Breach of Trust! She gave him to my Care,
And, if I now discover him, he dies.
That's black! And yet, if I betray him not,
He kills my Master; or the Vision lies.
Well: Be it, as it will: 'Tis now too late
To weigh the purpos'd Act. This is most sure,
The Consequence can ne'er be bad to me.
But, hark! he comes! the Closet opens; thus,
Prostrate, in low Submission, let me fall;
And wait my Royal Master's sacred Presence.

[Kneels, and bows his Forehead to the Ground.
Enter Orontes; still like a Moor.
Orontes.
This Key was fortunate! unhappy Lady!
Shock'd, and distracted, with a Crowd of Fears,
For her Son's safety, she forgot to tell me
What Country holds him; or his wretched Name!
I shou'd have known all this! yet, if the Ring
But strikes his Memory, I may meet Success.
Sizangar! Rise. Caimantha sends me to thee.

Sizangar
. [starting up.]
From what strange Place, on what strange Errand bent,
Comes thy black Form? That dreadful Voice, which sounds
Caimantha's Name, bids me believe thee sent
From those dark Regions, where the Dead reside.

Orontes.
Caimantha is not dead: She lives in Power,
Still to reward thee. Virtue claims Reward;
But thou art now about to cast off Virtue.

Sizangar.
Caimantha living! Moor, thou dream'st, Alas!
These sorrowing Eyes, long since, beheld her perish.

Orontes.
Wreck'd, but not lost; she floated on the Mast,
'Till certain Fishermen, whom Fortune sent,
To share the Terrors of that dreadful Storm;
Found means to save her, in their batter'd Bark.
Unknowing her Condition, at the Port,
To which they steer'd, they left her. She had Jewels,
Whose Sale procur'd her, Means, to live, disguis'd;
And thirty rolling Years have pass'd away,
While, o'er the Eastern World, from Shore to Shore,
Under a Eunuch's borrow'd Name, and Dress,
The roaming Empress sought Encrease of Knowledge.

Sizangar.
Thou hast amaz'd me! while I hear thee speak,
My curdling Blood creeps slow; and Life stands still!

Orontes.
More to amaze thee, closely view that Ring.

[Gives him a Ring.
Sizangar.
By the immortal Chiefs of Heav'n! the same!
When, in my Master's Absence, (he had, then,
Made that rash Vow) the Empress bore a Son;
And trusted me; then, but a hopeless Slave:
Take him, said she, poor Infant! then she hung
O'er his soft Smiles; and smother'd him with Kisses:
Take him: Then wept; and look'd again; and cry'd,
Here, take him, take the dear, the hapless Babe,
Unknowing, undeserving, his hard Fate!
And, in some distant Land, preserve his Life.
Give me a Token—then, I kneel'd; and gave
This Ring. The same, ye Gods! I gave this Ring,
Whene'er, said she, thou see'st this Ring again,
(For who foreknows Events to come?) Then, trust
The Hand, which brings it; and obey my Will.

Orontes.
And, dost thou not obey it? wilt thou, now,
By one foul act, discolour the fair Scene
Of thy past Faith? Caimantha's Son must live,
Or she dies with him, Think upon the Shock,
All honest Natures must sustain, to see
Such Goodness perish, by the means of him,
Who owes his ev'ry Blessing to her Care!
Has she escap'd the Dangers of the Deep?
Have barb'rous Nations spar'd her, unoblig'd
By her Humanity, nor owing ought
To her untir'd Endeavours? and shalt Thou,
O! let it ne'er be said! shalt thou, distinguish'd
From all Mankind, and living but by Her
Proof of her Grateful Soul! shalt thou betray her!
It cannot be. I wrong thee but to think it.
How wou'd those Strangers curse such Cruelty,
Whose Hospitable Land, unknowing, shelters
The Royal Youth! Think, when he is betray'd,
How will thy sullied Name bear up, against
A People's just Reproaches?

Sizangar.
What Means this?
His Ignorance in the Person, seems to prove
His Tale a Falsehood! But, the Ring? By Heaven!
All this is Prodigy! Inform me, Moor!
Who art thou? And how trusted with this Secret?

Orontes,
Death! have I time, to answer idle Questions?
Perhaps, next Moment brings the Emp'ror hither;
And, then, thou hast destroy'd Caimantha's Hope.

Sizangar.
Villain! Thou art some Traitor to the State
But what, or why, I know not.

Orontes.
Ha! have a Care—
And tempt me not too far.

Sizangar.
Yes, all thy Story
Is forg'd. Thou never didst behold Caimantha.

Orontes.
Be the Gods Witnesses, that—

Sizangar.
Slave! thou liest.
The Empress better had instructed thee.
She wou'd have told thee, that no Foreign State
Shelters the Royal Youth, Thou clumsy Traitor!
Thou Bungler in the Doctrine of Deceit!
The Empress knew, that Siam, Dotard! Siam,
Nourish'd her Son: And were she now alive,
Her Messenger had learnt, from her, to know,
Sofala's Tow'r, and not a Foreign Land,
Shelters Orontes.

Orontes.
Orontes!

Sizangar.
Yes; her Son Orontes.

Orontes.
O! Day! and Night! my Mother?
Amazement! Has Orontes such a Mother?
Preserve her, gracious Gods! she sav'd this Son!
Twice sav'd him! Shall that Son not save that Mother?

Sizangar.
Wake I? immortal Pow'rs! the Moor, Orontes?
What have I done! and what prodigious Chance
Has made this possible? my Prince! your Fate
Draws pity from me.

Orontes.
Pity! Canst thou name Pity? Barb'rous Villain!
Pity the weakness of thy Coward Soul,
And dare be honest. Hence, at once, with me:
The Danger, which o'erhangs my Mother's Life,
Makes me impatient of a trifled Moment.
Dare not deny to follow me. The Empress
Gave me this Key: By this, we may, unseen;
Escape, the way I enter'd. Hark! he comes.
[A Noise without.
Wretch! stand not to debate: For, if thou dost,
By all the Pow'rs, who punish Vice like Thine,
I will not leave thee Life, to act thy Wish.

Emperor without.
Uncham.
Bar fast the Palace-Gates: Double my Guards.
On, Selim, to my Closet; more of this, anon.

Sizangar.
What shall I—?

Orontes.
Damn thy treacherous Pause!

Sizangar.
I cannot.
I dare not go. I am too far engag'd.
Life, either way, is hazarded: The Danger
Is less, to tarry.

Sizangar draws his Sword.
Orontes.
O! for Lightning's Swiftness!
At once to blast thee!
[They fight: Sizangar falls.
Live, my Royal Mother!

[Orontes goes out, on one side; and on the other, enter Uncham, reading a Letter, with Selim.
Selim.
[Aside]
Sure, 'twas the clash of Swords! O'Heav'n! he's dead!
How comes it, that there was a Cause for Murder?

Uncham.
Selim! this Trifle has too long detain'd me:
Why hast thou tir'd me, with a long Account,
Of what Cambaia, or Pegu, design,
When Matters, of more Moment, call'd me hither?
Where is Sizangar? Ha! ye treach'rous Slaves!
What mean this Blood, and Murder?

Enter two or three Soldiers, and seem astonish'd.
Selim.
By your Great Throne! Sizangar, here, lies dead!

Uncham.
Kill'd! in my Closet! what prodigious Treason
Cou'd execute this Deed?

Sizangar
, [not yet quite dead]
A Son of yours:
I faint! the conquer'd Siam—Oh! my Breath!
A Woman push'd him on—That Son, whom you—
Your Life is next—I cannot speak—Oh! Death!

Dies.
Selim.
[Aside.]
Tremble not thus, O Heart, nor, Coward Knees,
Betray me, now the dreadful Danger's past.

Uncham.
Confusion! Dead? O live till thou hast said,
Which of my Sons. I have but two! ye Gods!
Unless my Sacrifices, all were vain,
And I have idly bow'd to fancied Beings,
Restore him Breath, to name the Parricide!
Curse on th'unhear'd Prayer! ye Villains, fly,
Bring hither all, that boasting Art can do;
Cordials, Restoratives, Elixirs, Drugs:
And all the Tricks, which, with pretended Skill,
Physicians practise, when they gull Mankind.
For every Moment's Life, I'll give a Kingdom.
It will not be! he stiffens, as he lies!
O! Earth, and Seas! What Pow'r shall I invoke?
To end this half discover'd Tale of Treason?

Selim.
So much I tremble, at the dreadful View
Of your late Danger, that my bending Knees
Can scarce support the weight of my Surprize.

Uncham.
Had he but liv'd, to whisper, Zarodin,
Or breathe Omalco, I had been reveng'd,
And thence been satisfied: But, now, I know,
The monstrous Crime, unknowing whom to punish.
Have I bred Vipers? wou'd they gnaw their way
To Empire, through, the Bowels of their Father?
Have they—But oh! it is not they! 'Tis one,
But which? speak Skies! and answer that, in Thunder.

Selim.
Might I presume!—But, be not angry, Sir,
If I offend: Might I presume to say,
Perhaps, you heard not right, his broken Accents!

Uncham.
Death! didst thou sleep? didst thou not hear him say
A Son of mine? Ha! Hell! Reflection names
Omalco! 'Tis Omalco! he, but now,
Press'd me, by Letter, to confine Sizangar!
He press'd me. For, says he, I much suspect,
He is a Traitor! Crafty, practis'd, Villain!
Sizangar having sent to beg Admission,
Guilt taught Omalco Fear. Had I, instead
Of sending for him hither, strait confin'd
The faithful, the unhappy Wretch, his Death
Had, then, been given, in private! Failing there
He took this bolder Method. Oh! 'tis plain!
Who else cou'd have a Key to enter here?
Only thy self; and these vile Sons? Again,
Did he not talk of Siam? and a Woman?
Push'd by a Woman! ha! fly to the Tow'r,
And bring Ipanthe hither.

[To the Soldiers.
Selim.
Royal Sir!
This Man, but now, brought me surprizing News,
That both Orontes, and the Captive Princess,
Are fled. But I, unwilling more to stir
Your too much ruffled Mind, forbade his Message.

Uncham.
Prophetick Heart! who was observ'd, of Note,
To visit, last, the Captives?

Arbanes.
Ere Lord Selim
Carried your Royal Order, both the Princes
Had been observ'd to pass the inmost Tow'r,
And seem'd disturb'd, as they return'd, and pensive.

Selim.
(Aside.)
Curse on thy meddling Tongue, thou prating Slave!

Uncham.
Enough! Can there be fairer Proof? Why, then
Resolve I not, to punish? Punish, whom?
Perhaps the Guilty may escape! Perhaps,
Neither is innocent! Both, say you?

Arbanes.
Both.

Uncham.
Wretches! they come! O Force of Arrogance!
They walk erect! and carry, in their Looks,
An unconcern'd Appearance!

Selim.
Nature bends.
I cannot stay, to witness the Confusion,
Which these unhappy Youths must undergo.
[Exit Selim.

Enter Omalco, and Zarodin; with Ipanthe, still in Man's Habit.
Omalco.
But half successful, in my Duty's Wish,
Great Sir! I scarce approach you, satisfied.
I hope, Sizangar's safe; for both his Pris'ners,
But now escap'd. We have not, yet, been able
To find Orontes; but the—Ha! ye Pow'rs!
What means this Blood, amidst the Royal Closet?

Zarodin.
Sir! Read I not Disorder in your Look?
Your Colour comes, and goes: You knit your Brow!
With earnest Teeth you press your Royal Lip;
And seem to labour, with some inward Pain!

Omalco.
Ye Stars, who shine upon my Father's Throne!
Avert all ill! and bless his Sacred Head,
From bloody Treason!

Uncham.
Out! thou praying Villain!

Zarodin.
Ha! what means this!

Omalco.
Defend his Age from Madness!

Uncham.
What Insolence of Guilt e'er match'd this Scene!
Guards, seize 'em; and disarm their impious sides
Of Weapons, vow'd to drink a Father's Blood.

[Guards seize the Princes.
Zarodin.
I'm all Astonishment!

Ipanthe.
(Aside.)
Heav'n! have they then
Obey'd me? 'Tis an unwish'd Proof, of Love,
Unwelcome, and abhorr'd!

Omalco.
This Sword was never drawn, but in your Cause,
It, always, was obedient to your Will,
And, thus, I kneel, to give it.

Uncham.
Touch not me.
Defil'd, with black, unnatural, Rebellion,
And Murder, in its most exalted Guilt.

Omalco.
I cannot fathom what Fate means by this!

Uncham.
Where is the curs'd Ipanthe? for whose Love
You spurn the strictest Ties, of Law and Nature?
Let her be found; or, by the blushing Sun!
You buy her Safety, with the Death, you merit.

Zarodin.
(Aside.)
'Tis fit, she yet remain unknown, whate'er
The Cause, or Consequence, of this may prove.

Omalco.
(Aside.)
Amaz'd, and anxious; wrongfully accus'd,
And all unknowing, whence this Tempest rose,
I look, with Pity, on Ipanthe's Danger,
And must conceal her.
[Kneels to the Emperor.
Royal Sir! if, e'er,
A partial Impulse drew a Father's Heart,
To beat, with tender Wishes, o'er a Son,
Permit me to inquire the wond'rous Cause
Of all this Rage? I ne'er offended you:
When you commanded, I disputed not;
To me, 'twas all sufficient to obey.
I never had a Wish that was not yours.

Uncham.
Away! the Frailty of an old Man's Fondness
Wou'd cheat me to believe you—wrong'd, as I am,
I scald, with shameful Tears, these aged Eyes;
These Eyes, which had they clos'd before this Day,
And not borne Witness to their Master's Shame,
Had shut out Mis'ry; and been bless'd, with Blindness!
How are my promis'd Comforts fled away!
The Toil of Youth is lost! The last, weak, prop,
Of sinking Age, is fall'n! Oh! wrack of Mind!
How have I fool'd my self with fancied Bliss!
How have these Sons made Death a welcome Thought,
By Hope, that, when my Life's short Glass was run,
I shou'd survive, in them! That, with the Fame,
Their growing Years wou'd gain, my Memory
Shou'd be reviv'd! My Name still heard, with theirs!
False, flatt'ring View! 'Tis lost! Cruel, and rough,
To all Mankind, to them, I have been soft,
And mild, as Mothers to their erring Babes!

Omalco.
If, from these Tears—

Uncham.
O take 'em from my Sight!
In close Confinement guard 'em, separate.
Till I resolve—Furies! resolve on what?
On what? hard Fates!

Omalco.
Let me, at least, presume
To ask, who my Accusers are?

Uncham.
Away!
I cannot bear you! my distemper'd Soul
Beats high with Passion! and, my boiling Blood
Rises against your Voice! away! be gone!
[Exeunt Omalco, and Zarodin, guarded.
Sees Ipanthe.]
Ha what art thou? and how admitted here,
At such a time as this?

Ipanthe.
(Aside.)
What shall I say?

Uncham.
Cans't thou not speak? whose daring Insolence
Gave Entrance to this Woman-fac'd Intruder?

Arbanes.
I know him not; but, when the Princes came,
He follow'd in.

Uncham.
The Princes! seize him.

[The Guards offer to seize Ipanthe, who draws a Dagger.
Ipanthe.
Villains, stand off! To Slaves, like you, my Liberty
Disdains to bow: I dare inform you, Sir!
Both, what, I am, and what I think you are.

Uncham.
How barefac'd, and how monstrous is their Sin!
They brought this Boy-look'd Traitor, as most likely
To 'scape Suspicion: and that bloody Dagger
Declares his Errand. Death! the Cowards start,
At a drawn Weapon, in so weak a Hand!

[Uncham advances to panthe, and seizes her. In the Struggle, her Turbant drops off; and her Hair falls loose, over her Shoulders.]
Ipanthe.
Thou hadst not foil'd me thus, were I inspir'd
With equal Strength, and Will.

Uncham.
O World of Woe!
What do my Eyes behold?

Ipanthe.
A Scene of Misery!
Which thy Ambition, and thy Guilt have form'd:
A helpless Orphan, ruin'd by thy Crimes,
Lost to her Hopes, made wretched, by thy Sword,
And cursing thee, in vain.

Uncham.
Scarce can'st thou say,
In vain! Thy well instructed Parricides
Contriv'd their murd'ring Scheme, with matchless Art!
But this they might have spar'd! Two Rebel Sons
Had been enough to kill a weak old Man;
A Woman's Help was needless!

Ipanthe.
When thy Sons
Provok'd my injur'd Honour, with a Proffer
Of Love, detested, I propos'd thy Death,
As the fix'd Price of what I scorn to sell.
This tempted thy vile Sons to a vile Deed:
A Deed, I tremble, thus, to see resolv'd!
For, tho', from me, thou merit'st Death; from them
The Punishment of Guilt, had been a Guilt,
Blacker than that it punish'd. But, thy Pride,
And restless Nature, mad, with wild Ambition,
Regardless to encourage Peace, and Virtue,
Have bred such horrid, and such frequent Crimes,
That none will wonder, when they hear, in China,
Of Things, unnatural!

Uncham.
By all the Stars,
She owns it! glories in her shooking Guilt!
Life! what is Life, subject to Pains like mine!
Is this the State, we labour to preserve?
And can we tremble when the doleful Call
Of Death alarms us? On our Day of Birth,
The dismal mourning shou'd be worn: For, then
Begins our Scene of Woe; But, when we die,
The gayest Colours of the painted Sky
Shou'd be employ'd, to dress us!

Ipanthe.
Let him muse on!
Wou'd he but rightly think, kind Heav'n, perhaps,
Might let him see his Crimes. But, oh! Orontes!
For thee I tremble; where, alas! art thou?

Uncham.
I blame you not, Ipanthe, for your Hate,
I blame you not, for loving your lost Father.
I make Allowances for your weak Sex:
For your fresh Mourning; and your Fall from State.
All I wou'd ask you, is, which of my Sons,
Was the rash Minister of your Revenge?

Ipanthe.
I will not answer to so vile a Question.
When, first, Ipanthe stoops to Tyranny,
Then, call her weak; Then, triumph, in her Fall!
Superior to her Fate, see! how she smiles!
Disdainful of the Storm, that rises in thee!

Uncham.
Ha! thou shalt feel what 'tis to tempt my Rage,
They shall both die, with thee, and thy Orontes!

Ipanthe.
(Aside.)
'Tis as I fear'd! Orontes lost, my Life
Is grown below my Care.
Tyrant! I scorn
Thy threaten'd Vengeance. When Ipanthe dies,
Her Pains will end, where thine will but begin.
Pains? There are none can match thy Sov'reign Guilt.

Uncham.
Death! Lend me Thunder, some controlling Pow'r,
Strike up, some more than mortal War of Sounds,
And quell the never-resting Tongue of Woman;
Silence, on forfeit of thy Life, thy Clamour,
And let my Soul take Counsel.

[Stands musing.
Ipanthe.
Life is an endless Warfare of the Mind!
The Ocean, made to suffer boist'rous Storms,
Enjoys some lucid Intervals of Rest;
Nor, always, carries Furrows, on its Brow!
But Mortals, in their Hearts, bear endless Tempests!
Softer than Zephyrs, were my late Ideas;
The dreadful Judgment, form'd by present Doubt,
Is bitterer than Gall! than Death more fear'd!

Uncham.
It will not be! In vain Reflection strives
To fix a single Guilt, on either Son!
The more I think, the more distracting Proofs
Of a combin'd Intention, shake my Soul!
To Ipanthe.]
Wouldst thou but ease my Mind, amidst these Doubts,
I swear, by all, that makes an Oath most solemn,
By Earth! by Heav'n! and, by yon glorious Sun,
Who carries Proofs of Godhead, in his Face,
To grant thee ev'ry Pray'r, thy Soul can wish.

Ipanthe.
Before I speak; suppose, I shou'd demand;
(Thy Sons Endeavours having fail'd Success)
Suppose, thy Life, I, of thy self, require?

Uncham.
Of all thy bloody Thoughts, most welcome this!
Old, as I am, I never fear'd to die.
Cou'd they be innocent, for either Son,
I wou'd resign old Age, with youth-like Joy;
Spring, to meet Fate, and bless thee, for my Death!

Ipanthe.
Whate'er thou would'st receive, I wou'd not grant.
Willing to die, 'Tis, therefore, thou shalt live!
Had I the Pow'r, to punish Crimes like thine,
I'd imitate the Vengeance of a God;
And give thee Immortality for Woe!

Uncham.
Bear her to Dungeons, Darkness, Chains, and Death.
[Exit Ipanthe, guarded.
Let not my Eyes, henceforth, be curs'd, with Woman!
Those soft Destroyers of deceiv'd Mankind!
By Heav'n! I'll sweep away the Sex, from China,
Unriddled once, they lose their Mystic Pow'r!
And only, rule, and influence, while unknown.
Search antient Story; look on modern Time;
Take Woman from us, and you leave no Crime.

[Exit.