University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Tamerlane on a Couch asleep.
SONG.
Reason and Time had once agreed,
My Heart from Loving shou'd be freed;
But Cupid swore, he'd lay a Snare
Shou'd catch my Reason, Time repair.
Sylvia appear'd with all the Charms
And Witchcrafts of a Face,
Able to do all Mankind harms,
And Womankind disgrace:
Reason strait fled, Time wou'd have stay'd,
Mistaking for the Sun,
The glories of the brighter Maid,
By those his course to run.
Jove saw, and fear'd some strange surprise,
Lest all the World shou'd be
Immortal made by her bright Eyes,
And Scorn his Deity:
So Time was forc'd to fly, old Age remain;
But, Ah! poor Reason ne'r came back again.

Enter in Dumb-show, Time with his Hour-glass, The Parcœ, Death, speckled Fame drawn in a Chariot by Cerberus, follow'd by Furies and Infernal Spirits.
Scene opens, and discovers Mount Atlas, with a Face and Beard like a Man made by Trees, which sinks down by degrees with soft Music; and at the top of him appear Angels with flaming Swords, and the Fiends begin to withdraw.
1 Ang.
Be gone, Infernal Spirits; leave this Hero,
Whose Virtues none of Human Race e'r equal'd.
Be calm, Great Monarch: Let no Fiends molest,
With frightful Dreams, thy too afflicted Brest.
No mortal Beauty does deserve thy Passion;
A brighter Object claims thy Admiration:
Thou hast a Share in thy Creator's Love,
Thy Soul, thy Fame, are both secure above.

Tam.
Where have I been, in Hell and Heav'n at once?
Was this a Dream? Or did I waking see?
My Senses were not lock't, sure: Had the doors
Been shut, such Visions never cou'd have enter'd.
At first, 'twas horrid; after, most Serene:
Oh, let me ever tast such Tranquil Joys
As this last moment Heav'n infus'd into me!
What need I care how near I am the Haven,
If I must land in Bliss?

Enter Guard.
Guard.
Ragalzan begs admittance to your Presence.

Tam.
How dares the cause of all my Woes come near me?
He will disturb my Thoughts again: no matter;
Why shou'd I hope for Peace?
Enter Ragalzan.
Villain, what hast thou done? Thou hast betray'd me,
And brought me to the Suburbs of Damnation:
I'm on the top of Ætna, scorch'd already
With all the Sulphurous Flames, and Hellish Vapors
That Pride, and Lust, and dire Ingratitude,
With all the black Ingredients that are boiling
Within that baleful Furnace, can cast up;
And still thy treacherous Counsels push me forwards
Into the dreadful Gulph. Traytor, be sure
Thou bring me off this Rock, and place me once again
Into the tranquil Plains of cheerful Peace,
And unreproaching Conscience; or, by the Justice
Of all those watchful Powers that threaten my destruction,
I'll bury thee alive, and cover thee with Kingdoms,
That thou shalt never see the Light again.

Rag.
Good Sir, have Patience: here I come with Cordials,
And you reproach my Zeal. Was I the cause
Of your great Passion? but did strive to ease you
With proper Remedies: A civil Rape,
Which Women count the highest Obligation,
And does at once serve to excuse both Parties.
If by rash Oaths you put your self in Streights,
'Twas not my fault.
Besides, I think you need not fear th'event;
Shee will release your Vow, for less than half
the World; which in your Prodigal Love-talk
You laid down at her Feet.

Tam.
Oh, I have try'd her,
And told her, I was guiltless of his death;
Yet she persists deaf, and inexorable,
As Adders sung to; as unmov'd, as Rocks
To th'Importunities of Winds and Waves.

Rag.
'Tis but to try the temper of your Passion,
A Stale device, the Womens common place Book.
But I have found a Salvo to your Conscience,
Which all the great Divines o'th'Universe,
Tho diff'ring in all other Points, approve of:
Why, Sir, your dreadful Vow extends no farther
Than to the Princess's delivery;
You may secure her from all further danger.

Tam.
Ha! say'st thou so? I thought of this before;
But weigh'd it not so throughly.

Rag.
More than this;
Because you love variety of Faiths,
I have enquir'd the opinion of the Mufftee,
The Calif, Patriarch of Antioch, and brought
A Writing here under their Hands and Seals.

Tam.
Oh, let me see those Heav'nly Lines.

Rag.
Look to that Paragraph.

Tam.
reads.
An unjust Vow is better broke than kept:
This Vow is not unjust, nor needs be broke;
For tho the intent of the Demander might
Extend to free disposal of her Person
To Death, or long Captivity; yet since
'Tis not exprest, the Emperor's oblig'd
No farther than to literal performance,
And all means may be used to save her harmless Person.

Rag.
Is not this Sence?

Tam.
Reason peeps out again,
O'rcast with Shame and Passion: Thanks, dear Friend.
Oh, thou hast scatter'd Life through my dead Veins,
And pour'd such Flouds of Joy into my bosom,
The sudden Heav'nly Showrs will cause an Inundation!
Oh, how my wrinkled heart, shrunk up with Sorrows,
Dilates it self, to let the ruddy Rivers
Have their free course throw all the Azure Channels!
Go, tell Despina she shall be obey'd,
(To the Guard.)
I'll see it done my self: then bring my Daughter
(Since it must be so) bound; but hark you, Friends,
Guard her, as you wou'd do your Lives, or, more than yours,
My own: Let no bold Sacrilegious hand
Dare to profane the Temple of all Virtues;
By Heav'n, he dyes, that suffers any hand
To touch that Holy Maid. Oh, I'm asham'd,
That such a blot shou'd rest upon my Glory;
But Heav'n must be obey'd, tho to my blushes.
Bring her, I say;
But then besure you suffer none to touch her,
Or, by the Price of all my Conquer'd Globe,
Which is not worth one hair of her bright Head,
I'll crumble you to dust, and blow you round
The mournful Universe; which I'll hang round with black,
If her dear Life's invaded; if she dyes,
And leaves me not an Heir to rule the World,
I'll Massacre Mankind, and root out all
That race of busie intellectual Monsters,
Half Angels, and half Brutes, and worse than either:
Or turn them all to Eunuchs, who shall howl
In pious Dirges for her hovering Soul,
Till it is fixt in foremost ranks of Glory,
Weep out their Lives, and leave the empty World.

Alarm without, Trumpet and Drums. Enter Axalla, with Captains.
Ax.
Sir, your Triumphant Arms have crush'd the Rebels:
China, and all the World is now your own.

Tam.
Oh, my Axalla, oh, there was a time
I cou'd have heard such Sounds with raging Joys;
But now it comes too late:
Give blind men Beauty, Musick to the deaf,
Give Prosperous Winds to Ships that have no Sails;
Their Joys will be like mine.

Ax.
What, not in temper yet, Sir?
I must acquaint you with a just occasion,
To intermix some sorrows with your Joys:
The Noble Zeylan and Philarmia's slain,
Whose Gratitude to you, love to each other
Wou'd not excuse 'em from this dangerous Action.

Tam.
Then Honor's out of fashion, Tears in Tune.
Alass, poor Rival in that lofty Science,
Ther's no man left alive that can keep up
That Beautiful Contention: I've out-liv'd it.
Tell me how that Heroic Pair expir'd.

Ax.
The Rebels were dispers'd, their Leaders taken,
Yet rash Philarmia follow'd the pursuit,
Tho rescu'd twice by Zeylan, we retreated;
But anxious Zeylan went back to secure her,
And in a Skirmish with the flying Rebels
Receiv'd a dangerous Wound: which caus'd a Rumor
Through all the Camp that he was slain. At last,
Philarmia comes Victorious, hears the news;
Then strait like Lightning, Arm'd with bright Destruction,
Flew in the thickest Troops, and flash'd, and Shin'd,
Struck dead whole Ranks before her; till she was
Extinguish'd by some Envious hand that drew
Death's dismal Curtain o'r her Glorious Face:
Zeylan comes back, and missing her, tho faint,
And bloody, Lanches out again, and finds
A crimson heap of newly slaughter'd Bodies,
Their Souls yet flutt'ring o'r their ruin'd Mansions:
And there too soon he spy'd
A Diamond in the Dust, sparkling Philarmia
Pale, and yet glimmering, in the Shades of Death;
Then strait tears up his Wounds, and with his Dagger probes 'em,
Till he falls dead upon her.

Tam.
Happy Pair!

Enter Despina.
Ax.
What, Love affairs yet! Friends, let us retire.

[Exit with Soldiers.
Tam.
Here comes the sole Disturber of my peaceful Thoughts.

Desp.
Thanks, most indulgent Conqueror: Now I find
There are some Monarchs that do own the Gods,
That unrestrained Power, allay'd
With Piety, can bound it self like th'Ocean,
Whose uphil Waves hang o'r the threat'ned Earth;
Might overflow its humble Friend, but will not.

Trumpets, and Cornets; the Procession enters, Virgins in Mourning.
Tam.
So, so; here comes the Stateliest piece of Shame
That ever Monarch groan'd for: Now I feel
Honor and Piety return again. I'll keep my purpose
Close to Religion, Laws, to Heav'n, to Nature.
Irene is brought in like Sacrifice.
Drest like a Sacrifice! Ah, poor Irene,
Art thou prepar'd then for a sudden Fate?

Ire.
A sudden Fate! There's no such thing in Nature:
We're dying from our Cradles: Heav'n can send
No greater Mercy, when't has predispos'd
Men for the Blessing.
Re-enter Axalla.
Ha! what Pageant's this?
Great Gods, can this be true? or do I see
A Lover's Oath, an over-acted Rant,
A Fugitive Word, that has out-run a Thought
Forc'd by the violence of self-urging Passion,
Which the Gods laugh at, other men despise,
And scatter to the Wind; become so sacred,
So indispensible, that she must dye for't?
Nay, she by whom thou Liv'st, thy Angel, thy Redemer?
Are there such things as Gods? Or are they over-busy'd?
Or is the World become so rankly Wicked
Ne'r a spare Thunderbolt is left for Thee?

Tam.
Oh, spare me, spare me; let me dye Axalla.

Ax.
Canst thou devote that Life, that sav'd thy own?
See that Blood spilt, that sprung from thy own Fountain;
And kept thy own from shedding? Canst thou hear
Her dying Groans, by whose sweet Prayers the Heav'ns
Have been inclin'd to thy Success, and softned to
Thy Failings?
By whose dear Murmurs, and Celestial Sounds
Thy Life has been refresh'd more than by Glory?
Whose Tears wou'd melt the Earth into an Ocean,
Whose Sighs wou'd cleave an Universe of Adamants,
And make a Palsy shake the guilty Earth
To Shreds, to Atoms, to a Second Chaos,
Tho it were Crampt with Unrelenting Irons;
And Hearts, as hard as thine.

Tam.
Axalla, Oh Axalla, cou'dst thou see
My Heart, thou woud'st not chide, but pity me:
Here stands a Saint, and there methinks an Angel
Peeps from the Clouds, to call me to performance
Of Sacred Vows. Is Heaven divided
Against it self, and shall frail Man be constant!
Nay, more than that; I'm satisfi'd by all
The Oracles of Heav'n, the Mystic Priests
Of several Churches, that my Vow's perform'd
In her delivery: But, oh! I've done too much.

Desp.
Ha! is't come to this?

[Aside.
Ax.
Too much indeed, and more than Heav'n requires:
What 'tis a Sin to keep, 's no Sin to break.
Fy, Sir; for shame grasp your loese Thoughts together,
Bind up your shatter'd Soul, that it may piece again,
And Grow the stronger by this Amorous Fracture:
Oh, let me never live, to see
The Glory of all Ages basely bury'd
Thus in a Woman's Arms.

Desp.
Sir, I percieve
I breed a Faction in your Family;
Your Slaves are angry, and you must obey:
Unbind the Princess; but unlose me too
From my rash Contract; 'Tis better for us both.

Tam.
No, Fairest, no:
Let me not lose that Heav'n, after assurance.
Think of some Nobler, less afflicting Tryal,
Some desperate, never yet attempted Action,
Nor ever thought of: Bid me drain the Ocean,
Make Mountains Navigable, transplant a Climate,
Unhindge the Globe; Bid me obscure the Sun;
Name that impossible that shan't be done:
But urge me not to tear out my own Bowels,
To be alive Dissected, doubly Martyr'd.

Desp.
Are Vows made only to be broke; and Women
The Stales, to cheat the Gods by? Is this your Love?
That I must keep my Word, and you be free:
I'll try if I shall be obey'd: Strangle the Princess.

Ax.
kneeling.
Hold, Madam, hold: Here, take my guilty Head:
'Twas I that councel'd Bajazet's Destruction,
Contriv'd the Murder, urg'd the doubtful Prince.
Cou'd her soft Heart contrive so harsh a Deed?
Her Pious Soul consent to such black Crimes?
Cou'd she the fatal Laws of Empire know,
The hard necessities of Jealous Greatness?
Let me, the Author, expiate the Crime:
Let not this spotless Lamb redeem a Tyger,
Deep in your Husband's Blood.

Desp.
You are her Lover;
Then I must punish you, and set her free.

Ire.
Oh, Madam, hear him not: his cruel Love
Betrays his Life, but never will save mine;
For sure, I neither can, nor will out-live him.
Ah, generous Innocent! why wilt thou rob me
Of Martyrdom, in such a Glorious Cause,
To save my Father's Life, and ease his Sorrows,
That weigh too heavy on the afflicted World.

Desp.
What Game of Glory's this; where Death's the Prize,
And Life the odious Blank? When Appetites
Are too irregular, pity they shou'd be humour'd.

Tam.
He wrongs himself to save his guiltless Mistress:
No Truth is half so Holy, as this Falsehood.
Despair urg'd Bajazet to self-Destruction;
Heav'n be my Judge, 'twas no Command of mine,
Nor yet their Counsel, to substract one minute
From his Heroic Life.

Desp.
So you have told me, Sir; and I begin
To think you real: well, 'tis time
The Vail were off, lest Passion work some mischief.
Forgive me, mighty Sir, this bold Request,
[kneeling.
'Twas but to try the firmness of your Love:
You have discharg'd your Promise to the utmost,
And put upon the Rack your own indulgent Nature.
Sir, cou'd you think this was the way to win you,
And make my self the Empress of the World;
To come to your Majestick bed, all reeking
In your dear Daughters Blood? I'm satisfy'd
You never order'd Bajazets Destruction,
As you convinc'd me since.

Tam.
'Tis a Sacred Truth;
No more, than by hard usage, and denying
To him the sight of you, which was his Life.

Desp.
That well might move me, Sir, but not so highly.

Tam.
I had your temper show'd me in false Glasses,
Which made me Amorously own in part
What you believ'd by many weighty Reasons.

Ax.
This may end well: I've seldom heard of Women
Stand upon terms with all-commanding Emperors.

Rag.
If these two piece again, what will become
Of me, the Engineer? I shall be crush'd
'Twixt these two mighty Wheels, that I have put
In motion. Perhaps, the Emperor is not poyson'd:
Who knows the walks of wily Womankind?

Desp.
Now, Sir, by Virtue of your former Grant,
I'll add but one request, you'l not deny me:
'Tis to release your admirable Daughter,
And beg the Friendship of the fair Irene.

Tam.
Now you revive me, Madam; all my Sorrows
Vanish like Dreams, or like the gloomy Shades,
They steal away insensibly from Day-light:
And unperceiv'd, like well-bred Courtiers, slide
Out of their Prince's Presence. Oh, how my Heart's
Enlarg'd! the spacious Room left open
For Aery, lightsom thoughts, there's nothing left
That can disturb my Peace. Strike off her Chains,
And bring her to the Empress.

Ax.
The Gods forbid: What, give her Sacred Life
Into the hands of one that Vows her Death!
Trust not to cover'd Flames, nor Furies reconcil'd.

Tam.
Ha! hold a little.

(To the Guards.)
Desp.
Am I suspected? Then my Faith's discharg'd,
And my Revenge, chain'd up by unjust Pity,
Breaks loose again; my darling, dear Revenge,
And rages for its Prey. Perform your Vow, Great Sir.

Ax.
Oh, hear a little! May you not accept
A meaner Offering for this mighty Princess;
As Deities of old took worthless Brutes
To save Heroic Lives; and give the Emperor
A full discharge of his rash Vow?

Desp.
If either of you dye, Heav'n be my Witness
I freely clear the Emperor of his Vow.
The other dyes of Grief by course.

[Aside.
Ax.
One, Life, to save a better, 'tis no Crime,
But an exchange, to the advantage of
All the surviving World: Then thus, Sir, I absolve you.
[Stabs himself.
Guard her dear Life, or let just Vengeance shake
Your Guilty Throne.

Tam.
Oh desperate Fondness!

Ire.
Oh Heavens!

Irene swoons. Tam. and Ragal. run to her.
Tam.
What ails Irene?

Ire.
Nothing but Dying.

Rag.
Sure 'tis not Grief alone; I fear she's Poyson'd,
By some corrupted Servant: and I've heard
Some mutt'ring on't.

Tam.
Hast thou indeed?

Rag.
But here
I have a Cordial-Antidote, will expel
Both Grief, and Poyson too.

Tam.
Give it her quickly.
(Ragal. gives it her.)
Ha! She revives.

Rag.
to Desp.
But she'l as soon relapse:
I've poyson'd her, without that State and Pomp,
Which I knew wou'd not take.

Desp.
What needed that rash hast?

Rag.
Ha! She relents, and longs to be our Soveraign;
But I'le secure her,
For fear of squeamish penitential Tales:
Then say, 'twas Justice for my murder'd Friend.
Goes to Ax. & embraces him.
Ah, my poor dying Friend! dear fellow Soldier!
Have we out-liv'd all dangers from our Foes,
To dye thus tamely? Sir, can you bear these wrongs?
Just Heav'ns, I cannot. False Murdress!

[Stabs Despina.
Desp.
What thou, Ragalzan! Oh, thou double Traytor!
Didst not thou blow the Coals of my revenge,
Accuse them all of Bajazet's Destruction?

Tam.
Guards, seize the Villain.

Rag.
Can you believe her, Sir?
She spits her Venom, now she's trod upon.

Tam.
Hold me up, Crantor, I am faint with Sorrow.

Desp.
I, and with Poyson too. Here was the Dagger kept
To vindicate my wrongs upon thy Daughter,
Whom now Ragalzan poyson'd:
Thou hast not many minutes left to live,
Nor I, to tell thee how.

[Dies.
Tam.
Blest be the hand that did it: hadst thou spar'd
One Life, more precious than my own, thou might'st
Have bustled with the briskest Female Saints
For place in Glory.

Ire.
Oh, generous Soul! Oh, my belov'd Axalla!
Kneeling by him.
Oh, tell thy poor Irene, why thou wast
So kindly cruel to thy self and me?

Ax.
Live, Princess, live; live to thy Father's Joy,
The Empire's quiet, and the Age's Glory:
Oh, live, to teach the World more Innocence,
And let this Wretch expire; who might have stay'd
T'have lov'd you longer, not have serv'd you better.

[Dies
Ire.
What, woud'st thou have me live an Age of Sorrows,
When the first moment of thy Fate has kill'd me?
I faint apace! Kind Heav'n has hear'd my Prayers:
Oh, I come after thee! nothing on Earth shall stop me.
Two Angels are my Bridemen, Saints my Singers,
The Clouds my Chariot, and the Skies my Shrine;
Where I for ever will joyn hands with thine.
Oh! 'tis too much to have both Heav'n and Thee.

(Dyes.)
Tam.
She's gone; the sweetest Saint Heav'n ever shin'd with!
Guards, bear the guilty Wretch to Death and Torture.

Rag.
Bear me in Triumph, Guards; I've won the day,
And dye a greater Conqueror than thy self,
Most Mighty Tamerlane: thou, and my lesser Foes,
About my Feet.

Tam.
Away with the vile Traytor.
Ex. with Rag.
He urg'd my Patience: now I'le dye in Peace.
Oh, now I'm safe! Now the kind Poyson comes
To end the Quarrel betwixt Love and Honor,
To satisfie my Friends, secure my Fame.
You Gods, that make unchangeable Decrees,
And lead Mankind in strong, but unseen Lines;
If you assume us hence to nobler Seats,
Receive me quickly, with a generous freedom,
For no man's Works deserve so great Rewards:
The powers we have, come from you; And what Thanks
Can they deserve, who only pay what's lent,
And have no power to Cheat? Perhaps, you scorn
The beggarly return of Benefits,
Like Trafficking Mankind: If these be your Resolves,
My hopes I Anchor on his generous Doctrine,
Whose Sepulcher in Jewry I paid Vows to,
Who gives Rewards, yet Suffer'd to obtain 'em.
And now I find voluptuous death steal on me,
And I begin to dream before I sleep:
Green Meadows, Silver Streams, and warbling Winds.
All the whole Sky a Rainbow. Lovely Sight!
Who wou'd not dye for this? Now I'm i'th'Dark;
And there I leave thee, World, just as I ever found thee.

[Dyes.