 | Abdelazer, or the Moors Revenge |  |
ACT. IV.
Enter Abdelazer, Osmin bearing his Helmet of Feathers, Zarrack with his Sword and Truncheon.Abd.
Come Osmin, Arm me quickly, for the day
Comes on a pace; and the fierce Enemy
Will take advantages, by our delay.
Enter Queen and Elvira.
Qu.
Oh my dear Moor!
The rude, exclaiming, ill-affected Multitude,
(Tempestuous as the Sea) run up and down,
Some crying, kill the Bastard,—some the Moor;
These for King Philip,—those for Abdelazer.
Abd.
Your fears are idle,—blow 'em into air.
I rusht amongst the thickest of their Crowds,
And with the awfull splendour of my Eyes,
Like the Imperious Sun, dispers'd the Clouds.
But I must Combate now a fiercer Foe,
The hot-brain'd Philip, and a jealous Cardinal.
Qu.
And must you go, before I make you mine?
Abd.
That's my misfortune;—when I return with Victory,
And lay my wreaths of Lawrel at your feet,
40
Qu.
How canst thou hope for Victory, when their numbers
So far exceed thy Powers?
Abd.
What's wanting there, we must supply with Conduct.
I know you will not stop at any thing
That may advance our Interest, and enjoyment.
Qu.
Look back on what I have already done,
And after that, look forward with Assurance.
Abd.
You then (with only Women in your Train)
Must to the Camp, and to the Cardinal's Tent;—
Tell him, your Love to him hath drawn you thither:
Then undermine his Soul,—you know the way on't.
And sooth him into a belief, that the best way to gain your heart, is to
leave Philip's Interest; urge 'tis the Kingdoms safety, and your own;
and use your fiercest threats, to draw him to a Peace with me: not that
you Love me, but for the Kingdoms good: then in a Tent which I will
pitch on purpose, get him to meet me: he being drawn off, thousands of
Begots (who think to cheat the world into an opinion, that fighting for
the Cardinal is a pious work) will (when he leaves the Camp) desert
it too.
Qu.
I understand you, and more then I have time to be
Instructed in, I will perform, and possibly
Before you can begin, I'le end my Conquests.
Abd.
'Twill be a Victory worthy of your Beauty.
—I must to Horse, farewell my generous Mistress.
Qu.
Farewell! and may thy Arms as happy prove,
As shall my Art, when it dissembles Love.
Exeunt.
SCENE, Philip's Tent.
Enter Philip, Alonzo, and Guards.
Phil.
'Tis a sad story thou hast told, Alonzo;
Yet 'twill not make me shed one single tear:
They must be all of bloud, that I will offer,
To my dear Brothers Ghost!—
But gallant Friend, this good his ills have done,
To turn thee ever to our juster Interest,
For thou didst love him once.
Alon.
Whilst I believ'd him honest, and for my Sisters sake;
But since his Crimes have made a Convert of me.
Phil.
Gods! is it possible the Queen should countenance
His horrid Villanies!
Alon.
Nay worse then so, 'tis thought she'l marry him!
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Marry him! then here upon my knees I vow,
(kneels.
To shake all Duty from my soul,
And all that reverence Children owe a Parent,
Shall henceforth be converted into hate.
(rises!
—Damnation! marry him! Oh I cou'd curse my Birth!—
This will confirm the world in their opinion,
That she's the worst of women;
That I am basely born too, (as she gives it out)
That thought alone, does a just Rage inspire,
And kindles round my heart an active fire.
Alon.
A disobedience, Sir, to such a Parent,
Heaven must forgive the sin, if this be one:
—Yet do not, Sir, in words abate that fire,
Which will assist you a more effectual way.
Phil.
Death! I cou'd talk of it an Age;
And like a Woman, fret my anger high,
Till like my Rage, I have advanc'd a Courage
Able to fight the World against my Mother!
Alon.
Our wrongs without a Rage, will make us fight,
Wrongs that wou'd make a Coward resolute.
Phil.
Come, Noble Youth,
Let us joyn both our several wrongs in one,
And from them make a solemn resolution,
Never to part our Interest, till this Moor,
This worse then Devil Moor be sent to Hell.
Alon.
I do.
Phil.
Hark,—hark,—she Charge is sounded, let's to Horse,
St. Jaques for the right of Spain and me.
Exeunt.
SCENE, a Grove.
Drums and Trumpets a far off, with noise of fighting at a distance: after a little while, enter Philip in Rage.
Phil.
Oh unjust powers! why d'ye protect this Monster;—
And this damn'd Cardinal, that comes not up
With the Castilian Troops; curse on his formal Politiques;—
Enter Alonzo.
—Alonzo, where's the Moor?
Alon.
The Moor!—a Devil!—never did Fiend of Hell,
Compell'd by some Magicians Charms,
Break through the Prison of the folded Earth
With more swift horrour, then this Prince of Fate
Breaks through our Troops, in spight of opposition.
42
Death! 'tis not his single arm that works these wonders,
But our Cowardice;—Oh this Dog Cardinal!—
Enter Antonio.
Anton.
Sound a Retreat, or else the day is lost.
Phil.
I'le beat that Cur to death that sounds Retreat.
Enter Sebastian.
Sebast.
Sound a Retreat.
Phil.
Who is't that tempts my Sword?—continue the Alarm,
Fight on Pell mell,—fight—kill—be damn'd—do any thing
But sound Retreat:—Oh this damn'd Coward Cardinal!—
Exeunt.
The noise of fighting near, after a little while Enter Philip again.
Phil.
Not yet, ye Gods! Oh this eternal Coward—
Enter Alonzo.
Alon.
Sir, bring up your Reserves, or all is lost;
Ambition plumes the Moor, and makes him act
Deeds of such wonder, that even you wou'd envy them.
Phil.
'Tis well;—I'le raise my Glories to that dazling height
Shall darken his, or set in endless Night.
Exeunt.
SCENE, a Grove.
Enter Cardinal and Queen; the noise of a Battel continuing a far off all the Scene.
Qu.
By all thy Love, by all thy languishments,
By all those sighs and tears paid to my Cruelty,
By all thy vows, thy passionate Letters sent,
I do conjure thee, go not forth to fight:
Command your Troops not to engage with Philip,
Who aims at nothing but the Kingdoms ruine.
—Fernando's kill'd,—the Moor has gain'd the power,
A power that you nor Philip can withstand;
And is't not better he were lost, then Spain?
Since one must be a Sacrifice.—
Besides,—if I durst tell it,
There's something I cou'd whisper to thy soul,
Wou'd make thee blush at ev'ry single good
Thou'ast done that insolent Boy:—but 'tis not now.
A time for stories of so strange a nature,—
43
That every man that Arms for Philip's Cause,
Merits the name of Traytor.—
Be wise in time, and leave his shamefull Interest,
An Interest thou wilt curse thy self for taking;
Be wise, and make Alliance with the Moor.
Card.
And Madam, shou'd I lay aside my wrongs,
Those publick injuries I have receiv'd,
And make a mean and humble Peace with him?
—No, let Spain be ruin'd by our Civil Swords,
Ere for its safety I forgo mine Honour.—
Enter an Officer.
Offic.
Advance Sir, with your Troops, or we are lost.
Card.
Give order—
Qu.
That they stir not on their lives;
Is this the Duty that you owe your Country?
Is this your Sanctity,—and Love to me?
Is't thus you treat the Glory I have offer'd
To raise you to my Bed?
To rule a Kingdom, be a Nations safety,
To advance in Hostile manner to their Walls,
Walls that confine your Countrymen, and Friends,
And Queen, to whom you've vow'd eternal Peace,
Eternal Love; and will you Court in Arms?
Such rude Addresses wou'd but ill become you.
No,—from this hour renounce all claims to me,
Or Philip's Interest;—for let me tell you,—Cardinal,
This Love—and that Revenge—are inconsistent.
Card.
But Madam—
Qu.
No more;—disband your Rebel Troops,
And straight with me to Abdelazer's Tent,
Where all his Claims he shall resign to you
Both in my self, the Kingdom, and the Crown:
You being departed, thousands more will leave him,
And you're alone the Prop to his Rebellion.
Enter Sebastian.
Sebast.
Advance, advance, my Lord, with all your Force,
Or else the Prince and Victory is lost,
Which now depends upon his single Valour;
Who like some Ancient Hero, or some God,
Thunders amongst the thickest of his Enemies,
Destroying all before him in such numbers,
That Piles of dead obstruct his passage to the living.—
44
Card.
I'le follow instantly—
Ex. Seb.
Qu.
Sir, but you shall not, unless it be to death:—
Shall you preserve the only man I hate,
And hate with so much reason?—let him fall
A Victim to an injur'd Mothers Honour.
—Come, I will be obey'd,—indeed I must.—
(fawns on him.
Card.
When you're thus soft, can I retain my anger?—
Oh look but ever thus—in spight of injuries—
I shall become as tame and peaceable,
As are your charming Eyes, when dress'd in Love,
Which melting down my Rage, leave me defenceless.
—Ah Madam, have a generous care of me,
For I have now resign'd my power to you.
(shout within.
Qu.
What shouts are these?
Enter Sebastian.
Sebast.
My Lord, the Enemy is giving ground,
And Philip's arm alone sustains the day;
Advance Sir, and compleat the Victory.—
Exit.
Qu.
Give order straight that a Retreat be sounded;
And whilst they do so, by me conducted
We'l instantly to Abdelazer's Tent:—
Hast,—hast, my Lord, whilst I attend you here.
Exeunt severally.
Cardinal going out, is met by Philip.
Phil.
Oh damn your lazie Order, where have you been, Sir?
—But 'tis no time for questions,
Move forward with your Reserves.
Card.
I will not, Sir.
Phil.
How, will not!
Card.
Now to advance would be impolitique;
Already by your desperate attempts,
You've lost the best part of our hopes.
Phil.
Death! you lye.
Card.
Lye, Sir!
Phil.
Yes, lye Sir:—therefore come on,
Follow the desperate Reer-Guard, which is mine,
And where I'le dye or Conquer;—follow my Sword
The bloudy way it leads, or else by Heaven
I'le give the Moor the Victory in spight,
And turn my force on thee;—
Plague of your Cowardice,—Come, follow me.
Ex. Card.
45
As Philip is going off, he is overtook by Alonzo, Antonio, Sebastian, and other Officers: At the other side some Moor, and others of Abdelazer's Party, enter and fall on Philip and the rest;—the Moors are beaten off;— one left dead on the Stage.—Enter Abdelazer, with Roderigo and some others.
Abd.
Oh for more work,—more souls to send to Hell!
—Ha ha ha, here's one going thither,—Sirrah—Slave—
Moor—who kill'd thee?—how he grins:—this breast,
Had it been temper'd and made proof like mine,
It never wou'd have been a mark for Fools.
Abd. going out: Enter Philip, Alonzo, Sebastian, Antonio, and Officers, as passing over the Stage.
Phil.
I'le wear my Sword to th' Hilt, bnt I will find
The subject of my Vengeance.—
Moor, 'tis for thee I seek, where art thou Slave?—
Abd.
Here, Philip—
(Abd. turns.
Phil.
Fate and Revenge, I thank thee!—
Abd.
Why—thou art brave, whoe're begot thee.
Phil.
Villain, a King begot me.
Abd.
I know not that,
But I'le be sworn thy Mother was a Queen;
And I will kill thee handsomely for her sake.
offer to fight, their Parties hinder them.
Alon.
Hold—ho'd, my Prince.
Osm.
Great Sir, what mean you?
(to Abd.
The Victory being yours, to give your life away
On one so mad and desperate.
(their Parties draw.
Phil.
Alonzo, hold,
We two will be the Fate of this great day.
Abd.
And I'le forgoe all I've already won,
And claim no Conquest; though whole heaps of Bodies,
Which this right hand has slain, declare me Victor.
Phil.
No matter who's the Victor; I have thee in my view,
And will not leave thee,
Till thou hast Crown'd those heaps, and made 'em all
The glorious Trophies of my Victory.—Come on Sir—
Alon.
You shall not fight thus single;
If you begin, by Heaven we'l all fall on:
Phil.
Dost thou suspect my power!
Oh I am arm'd with more then compleat Steel,
46
Upon my Fathers wrongs, my Brothers wounds,
My Mothers infamy, Spains misery,
I am all fire; and yet I am too cold
To let out bloud enough for my Revenge:
—Therefore stir not a Sword on my side.
Abd.
Nor on mine.
They fight; both their Parties engage on either side; the Scene draws off and discovers both the Armies, which all fall on and make the main Battel: Philip prevails, the Moors give ground: then the Scene closes to the Grove. Enter some Moors flying in disorder.
SCENE changes to a Tent.
Enter Abdelazer, Roderigo, Osmin, Zarrack, and some others of his Party.
Rod.
Oh fly, my Lord, fly, for the day is lost.
Abd.
There are three hundred and odd days ith' year,
And cannot we lose one?—dismiss thy fears,
They'l make a Coward of thee.
Osm.
Sir, all the Noble Spaniards have forsook you;
Your Souldiers faint are round beset with Enemies,
Nor can you shun your Fate, but by your flight.
Abd.
I can,—and must,—in spight of Fate:
The wheel of War shall turn about again,
And dash the Current of his Victories.—
This is the Tent I've pitch'd, at distance from the Armies,
To meet the Queen and Cardinal;
Charm'd with the Magick of Dissimulation,
I know by this h'as furl'd his Ensigns up,
And is become a tame and coward Ass.
a Retreat is sounded.
—Hark—hark—'tis done; Oh my inchanting Engine!
—Dost thou not hear Retreat sounded?
Rod.
Sure 'tis impossible!
Abd.
She has prevail'd;—a womans tongue and eyes,
Are Forces stronger then Artilleries.
Enter Queen, Cardinal, Women, and Souldiers.
—We are betray'd—
Qu.
What means this jealousie? lay by your weapons
And embrace;—the sight of these begets suspicion:
—Abdelazer, by my Birth he comes in Peace,
Lord Cardinal, on my Honour so comes he.
47
Let him withdraw his Troops then.
Qu.
They're Guards for all our safeties:
Give me your hand, Prince Cardinal;—thine Abdelazer;—
(she brings them together, they embrace.
This blest Accord I do behold with joy.
Card.
Abdelazer,
I at the Queens command have met you here,
To know what 'tis you will propose to us.
Abd.
Peace and eternal Friendship 'twixt us two:
How much against my will I took up Arms,
Be witness Heav'n; nor was it in Revenge to you,
But to let out th' infected bloud of Philip,
Whose sole aim
Is to be King,—which Spain will never suffer;
Spain gave me Education, though not Birth,
Which has intitl'd it my Native home,
To which such reverence and esteem I bear,
I will preserve it from the Tyrants rage.—
The People who once lov'd him, now abhor him,
And 'tis your power alone that buoys him up;
And when you've lifted him into a Throne,
'Tis time to shake you off.
Card.
Whilst I behold him as my Native Prince,
My Honour and Religion bids me serve him;
Yet not when I'm convinc'd that whilst I do so,
I injure Spain.
Abd.
If he were so, the Powers above forbid
We shou'd not serve, adore, and fight for him;
But Philip is a Bastard:—nay 'twill surprize ye,
But that 'tis truth, the Queen will satisfie you.
Qu.
With one bold word he has undone my Honour:
(weeps.
Too bluntly, Abdelazer, you repeat,
That which by slow degrees you shou'd have utter'd.
Abd.
Pardon my roughness, Madam, I meant well.
Card.
Philip a Bastard!
If by such Arts you wou'd divide me from him,
I shall suspect you wou'd betray us both.
Qu.
Sir, he informs you truth; and I blush less
To own him so, then that he is a Traytor.
Card.
Philip a Bastard! Oh it cannot be:—
Madam, take heed you do not for Revenge,
Barter your dearer Honour, and lose both.
Qu.
I know what's due to Honour, and Revenge,
But better what I owe to Spain, and you.—
You are a Prince oth' Bloud, and may put off
48
Card.
Though my Ambition's equal to my Passion,
Neither shall make me act against those Principles
My Honour ever taught me to obey.
—And Madam—
'Tis a less sin, not to believe you here,
Then 'tis to doubt your Virtue.
Qu.
I wish it were untold, if it must forfeit
The least of your Esteem;—but that 'tis truth,
Be witness Heav'n, my shame, my sighs, and tears.
(weeps.
Card.
Why Madam was't so long conceal'd from me?
Qu.
The Circumstances I shall at leisure tell you:
And for the present,
Let it suffice, he cannot rule in Spain,
Nor can you side with him, without being made
As much incapable to reign as he.
Card.
Though Love and Honour I have always made
The business of my life;
My soul retains too, so much of Ambition,
As puts me still in mind of what I am,
A Prince! and Heir to Spain!
Nor shall my blinded zeal to Loyalty,
Make me that glorious Interest resign,
Since Philip's claims are not so great as mine.
—Madam, though I'm convinc'd I've done amiss
In taking Arms for Philip,
Yet 'twill be difficult to dis-ingage my self.
Abd.
Most easily;—
Proclaim it in the head of all your Troops,
The justice of your Cause for leaving him;
And tell 'em, 'tis a work of Piety
To follow your example:
The giddy Rout are guided by Religion,
More then by Justice, Reason, or Allegiance.
—The Crown which I as a good Husband keep,
I will lay down upon the empty Throne;
Marry you the Queen, and fill it;—and for me,
I'le ever pay you duty as a Subject.
(bows low.
Card.
On these Conditions all I am is yours;
Philip we cannot fear, all he can do
Is to retire for refuge into Portugal.
Abd.
That wou'd be dangerous;—
Is there no arts to get him in our power?
Card.
Perhaps by Policy, and seeming Friendship,
For we have reason yet to fear his Force;
49
I cannot think it an impiety
To sacrifice him to the Peace of Spain,
And every Spirit that loves Liberty;
First we'l our Forces joyn, and make 'em yours,
Then give me your Authority to Arrest him;
If so we can surprize him, we'l spare the hazard
Of a second Battel.
Abd.
My Lord, retire into my inner Tent,
And all things shall be instantly perform'd.
Exeunt all.
SCENE, the Grove.
Enter some of Philip's Party running over the Stage, pursu'd by Philip: Alonzo, Sebastian, Antonio, and some few Offiecrs more.
Alon.
Do not pursue 'em, Sir, such Coward Slaves
Deserve not death from that illustriate hand.
Phil.
Eternal Plagues consume 'em in their flight:
Oh this damn'd Coward Cardinal has betray'd us!
When all our Swords were nobly dy'd in bloud,
When with red sweat that trickled from our wounds
We'ad dearly ern'd the long-disputed Victory,
Then to lose all! then to sound base Retreat!
It swells my anger up to perfect madness.
Alon.
Indeed 'twas wondrous strange.
Sebast.
I'm glad Sir—
Phil.
Art glad of it? art glad we are abandon'd?
That I, and thou have lost the hopefull'st day—
Sebast.
Great Sir, I'm glad that you came off alive.
Phil.
Thou hast a lean face—and a carrion heart—
A Plague upon the Moor and thee;—Oh Alonzo,
To run away!—follow'd by all the Army!
Oh I cou'd tear my hair, and curse my soul to Air!
—Cardinal—thou Traytor Judas, that wou'dst sell
Thy God again, as thou hast done thy Prince.
—But come—we're yet a few,
And we will fight till there be left but one;—
If I prove him, I'le dye a glorious death.
Ant.
Yes, but the Cardinal has took pious care
It shall be in our beds.
Sebast.
We are as bad as one already, Sir, for all our Fellows are craul'd
home, some with ne're a Leg, others with ne're an Arm, some with their
Brains beat out, and glad they escap'd so.
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But my dear Countrymen, you'l stick to me.
1 Sould.
Aye, wou'd I were well off.—
(aside,
Phil.
Speak stout Sceva, wilt thou not?
1 Sould.
Sceva Sir, who's that?
Phil.
A gallant Roman, that fought by Cæsar's side,
Till all his Body cover'd o're with Arrows,
Shew'd like a monstrous Porcupine.
1 Sould.
And did he dye, Sir?
Phil.
He wou'd not but have dy'd for Cæsar's Empire.
1 Sould.
Hah,—why Sir I'm none of Sceva, but honest Diego, yet
would as willingly dye as he, but that I have a Wife and Children; and
if I dye, they beg.
Phil.
For every drop of bloud which thou shalt lose,
I'le give thy Wife—a Diadem.
1 Sould.
Stark mad, as I'm valiant.—
Enter Cardinal, Officers and Souldiers: Philip offers to run on him, is held by Alonzo.
Phil.
Oh Heaven! is not that the Cardinal?
Traytor, how dar'st thou tempt my rage and justice?
Card.
Your Pardon, Sir, I come in humble love
To offer happy Peace.
Phil.
Was that thy aim when base Retreat was sounded?
Oh thou false Cardinal!—let me go, Alonzo,—
Death! offer happy Peace!—no offer War,
Bring Fire and Sword;—Hell and damnation—Peace!
Oh damn your musty Peace:—No, will you fight, and cry,
Down with the Moor! and then I'le dye in peace.
I have a heart, two arms, a soul, a head,
I'le hazard these,—I can but hazard all.—
Come—I will kneel to thee,—and be thy Slave,—
(kneels.
I'le let thee tread on me, do any thing,
So this damn'd Moor may fall.
Card.
Yes Sir, he shall—
Phil.
Gods! shall he!—thy Noble hand upon't,
And for this promise, take my gratefull heart.
(embraces him.
—Shall Abdelazer fall!
Card.
Yes, upon thee—
Like the tall ruines of a falling Tower,
As they embrace, the Guards seize him and the rest.
To crush thee into dust:—
Traytor, and Bastard, I arrest thee of High Treason.
Phil.
Hoh!—Traytor!—and Bastard!—and from thee!
they hold Philip's hands.
Card.
Guards, to your hands the Prisoner is committed,
There's your warrant:—Alonzo, you are free.
Ex. Card.
51
Prithee lend me one hand—to wipe my eyes,
And see who 'tis dares Authorize this Warrant:
—The Devil and his Dam! the Moor!—and Queen!
Their Warrant!—Gods! Alonzo, must we obey it?
Villains, you cannot be my Jaylors; there's no Prison,
No Dungeon deep enough; no Gate so strong,
To keep a man confin'd—so mad with wrong.
—Oh dost thou weep, Alonzo!
Alon.
I wou'd fain shed a tear,
But from my eyes so many showrs are gone,
They are too poor to pay your sorrows Tribute;
There's now no remedy, we must to Prison:
Phil.
Yes, and from thence to death:—
I thought I should have had a Tomb hung round
With tatter'd Ensigns, broken Spears and Javelins;
And that my body with a thousand wounds,
Shou'd have been borne on some Triumphant Chariot,
With solemn Mourning Drums and Trumpets sounding;
Whilst all the wondring World with grief and envy,
Had wish'd my Glorious Destiny their own:
But now, Alonzo,—like a Beast I fall,
And hardly Pity waits my Funeral.
Exeunt.
| Abdelazer, or the Moors Revenge | |