University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE, The Magitians Cave.
Enter Montezuma, High Priest.
Mont.
Not that I fear the utmost Fate can do,
Come I th'event of doubtful War to know,
For Life and Death are things indifferent,
Each to be chose as either brings content;
My motive from a Nobler cause does spring,
Love rules my heart, and is your Monarchs King;
I more desire to know Almeria's mind,
Then all that Heaven has for my state design'd.

High Pr.
By powerful Charms which nothing can withstand,
I'le force the Gods to tell what you demand.
Charm,
Thou Moon, that aid'st us with thy Magick might,
And yea small Starrs, the scattered seeds of light,
Dart your pale beams into this gloomy place,
That the sad powers of the Infernal race
May read above what's hid from Humane Eyes,
And in your walks, see Empires fall and rise.
And ye Immortal Souls, that once were Men,
And now resolv'd to Elements agen,
That wait for Mortal frames in depths below,
And did before what we are doom'd to do;
Once, twice, and thrice, I wave my Sacred wand,
Ascend, ascend, ascend at my command.

An Earthy Spirit rises.
Spir.
In vain, O mortal men your Prayers implore
The aid of powers below, that want it more:
A God more strong, who all the gods commands,
Drives us to exile from our Native Lands;
The Air swarms thick with wandring Deities,
Which drowsily like humming Beetles rise
From our lov'd Earth, where peacefully we slept,
And far from Heaven a long possession kept.
The frighted Satyrs that in Woods delight,
Now into Plains with prick'd up Ears take flight;
And scudding thence, while they their horn-feet ply
About their Syres the little Silvans cry.
A Nation loving Gold must rule this place,
Our Temples Ruine, and our Rites Deface:
To them, O King, is thy lost Scepter given,
Now mourn thy fatal search, for since wise Heaven
More ill then good to Mortals does dispence,
It is not safe to have too quick a sense.

Descends.
Mont.
Mourn they who think repining can remove
The firm decrees of those that rule above;
The brave are safe within, who still dare dye,
When e're I fall I'le scorn my destiny.
Doom as they please my Empire not to stand,
I'le grasp my Scepter with my dying hand.

High Pr.
Those Earthy Spirits black and envious are,
I'le call up other gods of form more fair:
Who Visions dress in pleasing Colours still,
Set all the good to show, and hide the ill.
Kalib ascend, my fair-spoke servant rise,
And sooth my Heart with pleasing Prophecies.

Kalib ascends all in White in the shape of a Woman and Sings.
Kalib.
I look'd and saw within the Book of Fate,
Where many days did lower,
When lo one happy hour
Leapt up, and smil'd to save thy sinking State;
A day shall come when in thy power
Thy cruel Foes shall be;
Then shall thy Land be free,
And thou in Peace shall Raign:
But take, O take that opportunity,
Which once refus'd will never come again.

Descends.
Mont.
I shall deserve my Fate if I refuse
That happy hour which Heaven allots to use;
But of my Crown thou too much care do'st take,
That which I value more, my Lov's at stake.

High Pr.
Arise ye subtle Spirits that can spy,
When Love is enter'd in a Females eye;
You that can read it in the midst of doubt,
And in the midst of frowns can find it out;
You that can search those many corner'd minds,
Where Womans crooked fancie, turns, and winds;
You that can Love explore, and truth impart,
Where both lye deepest hid in Womans heart,
Arise.—

The Ghosts of Traxalla and Acacis arise, they stand still and point at Montez.
High Pr.
I did not for these Ghastly Visions send,
Their sudden coming does some ill portend:
Begon,—begon,—they will not dis-appear,
My Soul is seiz'd with an unusual fear.

Mont.
Point on, point on, and see whom you can fright,
Shame and Confusion seize these shades of night;
Ye thin and empty forms am I your sport?
They smile.
If you were flesh—
You know you durst not use me in this sort.

The Ghost of the Indian Queen rises betwixt the Ghosts with a Dagger into her Breast.
Mont.
Ha!
I feel my Hair grow stiff, my Eye-balls rowl,
This is the only form could shake my Soul.

Ghost.
The hopes of thy succesless Love resign,
Know Montezuma, thou art only mine;
For those that here on Earth their passion show,
By death for Love, receive their right below.
Why doest thou then delay my longing Arms?
Have Cares, and Age, and Mortal life such Charms!
The Moon grows sickly at the sight of day,
And early Cocks have summon'd me away:
Yet I'le appoint a meeting place below,
For there fierce winds o're dusky Vallies blow,
Whose every puff bears empty shades away,
Which guidless in those dark Dominions stray.
Just at the entrance of the Fields below,
Thou shalt behold a tall black Poplar grow,
Safe in its hollow trunk I will attend,
And seize thy Spirit when thou doest descend.

Descends.
Mont.
I'le seize thee there, thou Messenger of Fate,
Would my short Life had yet a shorter date!
I'm weary of this flesh which holds us here,
And dastards manly Souls with hope and fear;
These heats and colds still in our breasts make War,
Agues and Feavers all our passions are.

Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Cydaria, Alibech, Betwixt the two Armies.
Alib.
Blessings will Crown your Name if you prevent
That Blood, which in this Battel will be spent;
Nor need you fear so just a fute to move,
Which both becomes your duty and your Love.

Cyd.
But think you he will come? their Camp is near,
And he already knows I wait him here.

Alib.
You are too young your power to understand,
Lovers take wing upon the least command;
Already he is here.

Enter Cort. and Vasq. to them.
Cort.
Methinks like two black storms on either hand,
Our Spanish Army and your Indians stand;
This only space betwixt the Clouds is clear,
Where you, like day, broke loose from both appear.

Cyd.
Those closing Skies might still continue bright,
But who can help it if you'l make it night?
The Gods have given you power of Life and Death,
Like them to save or scatter with a breath.

Cort.
That power they to your Father did dispose,
'Twas in his choice to make us Friends or Foes.

Alib.
Injurious strength would rapine still excuse,
By off'ring terms the weaker must refuse;
And such as these your hard conditions are,
You threaten Peace, and you invite a War.

Cort.
If for my self to Conquer here I came,
You might perhaps my actions justly blame.
Now I am sent, and am not to dispute
My Princes orders, but to execute.

Alib.
He who his Prince so blindly does obey,
To keep his Faith his Vertue throws away.

Cort.
Monarchs may err, but should each private breast
Judge their ill Acts, they would dispute their best.

Cyd.
Then all your care is for your Prince I see,
Your truth to him out-weighs your love to me;
You may so cruel to deny me prove,
But never after that, pretend to Love.

Cort.
Command my Life, and I will soon obey,
To save my Honour I my Blood will pay.

Cyd.
What is this Honour that does Love controul?

Cort.
A raging fit of Vertue in the Soul;
A painful burden which great minds must bear,
Obtain'd with danger, and possest with fear.

Cyd.
Lay down that burden if it painful grow,
You'l find, without it, Love will lighter go.

Cort.
Honour once lost is never to be found.

Alib.
Perhaps he looks to have both passions Crown'd:
First dye his Honour in a Purple Flood,
Then Court the Daughter in the Father's Blood.

Cort.
The edge of War I'le from the Battel take,
And spare her Father's Subjects for her sake.

Cyd.
I cannot Love you less when I'm refus'd,
But I can dye to be unkindly us'd;
Where shall a Maids distracted heart find rest,
If she can miss it in her Lovers breast!

Cort.
I till to morrow will the fight delay,
Remember you have conquer'd me to day.

Alib.
This grant destroys all you have urg'd before,
Honour could not give this, or can give more;
Our Women in the foremost ranks appear,
March to the Fight, and meet your Mistress there,
Into the thickest Squadrons she must run,
Kill her, and see what Honour will be won.

Cyd.
I must be in the Battel, but I'le go
With empty Quiver, and unbended Bow;
Not draw an Arrow in this fatal strife,
For fear its point should reach your Noble life.

Cort.
No more, your kindness wounds me to the death,
Honour be gone, what art thou but a breath!
I'le live, proud of my infamy and shame,
Grac'd with no Triumph but a Lovers name;
Men can but say Love did his reason blind,
And Love's the noblest frailty of the mind,
Draw off my Men, the War's already done.

Piz.
Your orders come too late, the Fight's begun,
The Enemy gives on with fury led,
And fierce Orbellan combats in their head.

Cort.
He justly fears a Peace with me would prove
Of ill concernment to his haughty Love;
Retire, fair Excellence, I'le go to meet
New Honour, but to lay it at your feet.

Exeunt Cort. Vasq. Piz.
Enter Odm. and Guy. to Alib. and Cyd.
Odm.
Now, Madam, since a danger does appear
Worthy my Courage, though below my Fear,
Give leave to him who may in Battel dye,
Before his Death to ask his destiny.

Guy.
He cannot Dye whom you command to Live,
Before the Fight you can the Conquest give;
Speak where you'l place it?

Alib.
—Briefly then to both,
One I in secret Love, the other Loath;
But where I hate, my hate I will not show,
And he I Love, my Love shall never know;
True worth shall gain me, that it may be sed,
Desert, not fancy, once a Woman led.
He that in fight his courage shall oppose
With most success against his Countries Foes,
From me shall all that recompence receive
that Valour Merits, or that Love can give:
'Tis true my hopes and fears are all for one,
But hopes and fears are to my self alone,
Let him not shun the danger of the strife,
I but his Love, his Country claims his Life.

Odm.
All obstacles my Courage shall remove.

Guy.
Fall on, fall on.

Odm.
—For Liberty,

Guy.
—For Love.

Exeunt the Women following.
SCENE Changes to the Indian Country.
Enter Mont. attended by his Indians.
Mont.
Charge, charge, their ground the faint Taxallans yield,
Bold in close Ambush, base in open Field:
The envious Devil did my Fortune wrong,
Thus Fought, thus Conquer'd I when I was young.

Exit.
Alarm, Enter Cort. Bloudy.
Cort.
Furies pursue these false Taxallans Flight,
Dare they be Friends to us and dare not Fight?
What Friends can Cowards be, what hopes appear
Of help from such, that where they hate show fear!

Enter Piz. Vasquez.
Piz.
The Field grows thin, and those that now remain,
Appear but like the shadows of the Slain.

Vasq.
The fierce old King is vanish'd from the place,
And in a cloud of dust pursues the Chase.

Cort.
Their eager Chase disorder'd does appear,
Command our Horse to charge them in the rear;
To Piz.
You to our old Castillian Foot retire,
To Vasq.
Who yet stand firm, and at their backs give Fire.

Exeunt severally.
Enter Odm. and Guy. meeting each other.
Odm.
Where hast thou been since first the Fight began,
Thou less then Woman in the shape of Man?

Guy.
Where I have done what may thy Envy move,
Things worthy of my Birth, and of my Love:

Odm.
Two bold Taxallans with one Dart I slew,
And left it sticking ere my Sword I drew.

Guy.
I sought not Honour on so base a Train,
Such Cowards by our Women may be Slain;
I fell'd along a Man of Bearded face,
His Limbs all cover'd with a Shining case:
So wondrous hard, and so secure of wound,
It made my Sword, though edg'd with Flint, rebound.

Odm.
I kill'd a double Man, the one half lay
Upon the ground, the other ran away.

Guns go off within.
Enter Mont. out of breath, with him Alib. and an Indian.
Mont.
All's lost—
Our Foes with Lightning and with Thunder Fight,
My Men in vain shun death by shameful Flight;
For death's Invisible come wing'd with Fire,
They hear a dreadful noise and straight expire.
Take, gods, that Soul ye did in spight create,
And made it great to be unfortunate:
Ill Fate for me unjustly you provide,
Great Souls are Sparks of your own Heavenly Pride,
That lust of power we from your god-heads have,
You'r bound to please those Appetites you gave.

Enter Vasq. and Piz. with Spaniards.
Vasq.
Pizarro, I have hunted hard to day,
Into our toyls the noblest of the prey;
Seize on the King, and him your Prisoner make,
While I in kind revenge, my taker take.

Piz. with two goes to Attaque the King, Vasq. with another to seize Alib.
Guy.
Their danger is alike, whom shall I free?

Odm.
I'le follow Love.

Guy.
—I'le follow Piety.

Odm. retreats from Vasq. with Alib off the Stage, Guy. Fights for his Father.
Guy.
Fly Sir, while I give back that life you gave,
Mine is well lost, if I your life can save.

Mont. Fights off, Guy. making his retreat, stays.
Guy.
'Tis more than Man can do to scape them all,
Stay, let me see where noblest I may fall.

He runs at Vasq. is seized behind and taken.
Vasq.
Conduct him off,
And give command he strictly guarded be.

Guy.
In vain are guards, Death sets the Valiant free.

Exit Guy with Guards.
Vasq.
A Glorious day! and bravely was it Fought,
Great fame our General in great dangers sought;
From his strong Arm I saw his Rival run,
And in a crowd, th'unequal Combat shun.

Enter Cortez leading Cidaria, who seems crying, and begging of him.
Cort.
Mans force is fruitless, and your gods would fail
To save the City, but your Tears prevail;
I'le of my Fortune no advantage make,
Those Terms they had once given, they still may take.

Cyd.
Heaven has of right all Victory design'd,
Where boundless power dwells in a will confin'd;
Your Spanish Honour does the World excel.

Cort.
Our greatest Honour is in loving well.

Cyd.
Strange ways you practice there to win a Heart,
Here Love is Nature, but with you 'tis Art.

Cort.
Love is with us, as Natural as here,
But fetter'd up with customs more severe;
In tedious Courtship we declare our pain,
And ere we kindness find, first meet disdain.

Cyd.
If Women Love they needless pains endure,
Their Pride and Folly but delay their Cure.

Cort.
What you mis-call their Folly, is their care,
They know how fickle common Lovers are:
Their Oaths and Vows are cautiously believ'd,
For few there are but have been once deceiv'd.

Cyd.
But if they are not trusted when they vow,
What other marks of passion can they show?

Cort.
With Feasts, and Musick, all that brings delight,
Men treat their Ears, their Pallats, and their Sight.

Cyd.
Your Gallants sure have little Eloquence,
Failing to move the Soul, they Court the Sence,
With Pomps, and Trains, and in a crowd they Woe,
When true Felicity is but in two;
But can such Toys your Womens passion move?
This is but noise and tumult, 'tis not Love.

Cort.
I have no reason, Madam, to excuse
Those ways of Gallantry I did not use;
My Love was true and on a Nobler score.

Cyd.
Your Love! Alas! then have you Lov'd before!

Cort.
'Tis true I Lov'd, but she is Dead, she's Dead,
And I should think with her all Beauty Fled;
Did not her fair resemblance live in you,
And by that Image, my first Flames renew.

Cyd.
Ah happy Beauty whosoe're thou art!
Though dead thou keep'st possession of his Heart;
Thou mak'st me jealous to the last degree,
And art my Rival in his Memory;
Within his Memory, ah, more then so,
Thou Liv'st and Triumph'st ore Cydaria too.

Cort.
What strange disquiet has uncalm'd your breast,
Inhumane fair, to rob the dead of rest!
Poor Heart!
She slumbers deep, deep in her silent Tomb,
Let her possess in Peace that narrow Room.

Cyd.
Poor-heart he pities and bewails her death,
Some god, much hated soul, restore thy breath
That I may kill thee, but some ease 'twill be,
I'le kill my self for but resembling thee.

Cort.
I dread your anger, your disquiet fear,
But blows from hands so soft who would not bear?
So kind a passion why should I remove?
Since jealousie but shows how well we Love.
Yet jealousie so strange I never knew,
Can she who Loves not me disquiet you?
For in the Grave no Passions fill the Breast,
'Tis all we gain by Death to be at rest.

Cyd.
That she no longer Loves brings no relief,
Your Love to her still lives, and that's my grief.

Cort.
The object of desire once tane away,
'Tis then not Love, but pitty that we pay.

Cyd.
'Tis such a pitty I should never have,
When I must lye forgotten in the Grave;
I meant to have oblig'd you when I dy'd,
That after me you should Love none beside,
But you are false already.

Cort.
—If untrue,
By Heaven my falshood is to her, not you.

Cyd.
Observe sweet Heaven, how falsly he does Swear,
You said you Lov'd me for resembling her.

Cort.
That Love was in me by resemblance bred,
But shows you chear'd my sorrows for the Dead.

Cyd.
You still repeat the greatness of your grief.

Cort.
If that was great, how great was the relief?

Cyd.
The first Love still the strongest we account.

Cort.
That seems more strong which could the first surmount:
But if you still continue thus unkind,
Whom I Love best, you by my Death shall find.

Cyd.
If you should dye my death should yours pursue,
But yet I am not satisfied you'r true.

Cort.
Hear me, ye gods, and punish him you hear,
If ought within the World, I hold so dear.

Cyd.
You would deceive the gods and me, she's dead,
And is not in the World, whose Love I dread.
Name not the world, say nothing is so dear.

Cort.
Then nothing is, let that secure your fear.

Cyd.
'Tis Time must wear it off, but I must go.
Can you your constancy in absence show?

Cort.
Mis-doubt my constancy and do not try,
But stay and keep me ever in your eye.

Cyd.
If as a Prisoner I were here, you might
Have then insisted on a Conqu'rours right,
And stay'd me here; but now my Love would be
Th'effect of force, and I would give it free.

Cort.
To doubt your Vertue or your Love were sin;
Call for the Captive Prince and bring him in.
Enter Guyomar bound and sad.
You look, Sir, as your Fate you could not bear,
[To Guyomar.
Are Spanish Fetters then so hard to wear?
Fortune's unjust, she ruines oft the Brave,
And him who should be Victor, makes the Slave.

Guy.
Son of the Sun, my Fetters cannot be
But Glorious for me, since put on by thee;
The ills of Love, not those of Fate I fear,
These I can brave, but those I cannot bear;
My Rival Brother, while I'm held in Chains,
In freedom reaps the fruit of all my Pains.

Cort.
Let it be never said, that he whose breast
Is fill'd with Love, should break a Lovers rest;
Haste, lose no time, your Sister sets you Free,
And tell the King, my Generous Enemy,
I offer still those terms he had before,
Only ask leave his Daughter to adore.

Guy.
Brother, that Name my breast shall ever own,
He embraces him.
The Name of Foe be but in Battels known;
For some few days all Hostile Acts forbear,
That if the King consents, it seem not fear;
His Heart is Noble, and great Souls must be
Most sought and Courted in Adversity.
Three days I hope the wisht success will tell.

Cyd.
Till that long time.—

Cort.
—Till that long time, farewel.

Exeunt severally.