Classic Poem

[SCENE IV.]

The trumpets sound, the chambers are discharged. Then enter the King OF P ORTUGAL and the Moor, with all their train .

K. Seb. Muly Mahamet, King of Barbary,
Well met, and welcome to our town of Tangier,
After this sudden shock and hapless war. —
Welcome, brave Queen of Moors: repose thee here,
Thou and thy noble son. — And, soldiers all,
Repose you here in King Sebastian's town. —
Thus far in honour of thy name and aid,
Lord Mahamet, we have adventured,
To win for thee a kingdom, for ourselves
Fame, and performance of those promises
That in thy faith and royalty thou hast
Sworn to Sebastian King of Portugal;
And thrive it so with thee as thou dost mean,
And mean thou so as thou dost wish to thrive!
And if our Christ, for whom in chief we fight,
Hereby t' enlarge the bounds of Christendom,
Favour this war, and, as I do not doubt,
Send victory to light upon my crest,
Brave Moor, I will advance thy kingly son,
And with a diadem of pearl and gold
Adorn thy temples and enrich thy head.
The Moor. O brave Sebastian, noble Portugal,
Renowm'd and honour'd ever mayst thou be,
Triumpher over those that menace thee!
The hellish prince, grim Pluto, with his mace
Ding down my soul to hell, and with this soul
This son of mine, the honour of my house,
But I perform religiously to thee
That I have holily erst underta'en!
And that thy lords and captains may perceive
My mind in this single and pure to be, —
As pure as is the water of the brook, —
My dearest son to thee I do engage:
Receive him, lord, in hostage of my vow;
For even my mind presageth to myself,
That in some slavish sort I shall behold
Him dragg'd along this running river shore,
A spectacle to daunt the pride of those
That climb aloft by force, and not by right.
The Moor's Son. Nor can it otherwise befall the man
That keeps his seat and sceptre all in fear;
That wears his crown in eye of all the world,
Reputed theft and not inheritance.
What title, then, hath Abdelmelec here
To bar our father or his progeny?
Right royal prince, hereof you make no doubt,
Agreeing with your wholesome Christian laws:
Help, then, courageous lord, with hand and sword,
To clear his way, whose lets are lawless men;
And for this deed ye all shall be renowm'd,
Renowm'd and chronicled in books of fame,
In books of fame, and characters of brass,
Of brass, nay, beaten gold: fight, then, for fame,
And find th' Arabian Muly Hamet here
Adventurous, bold, and full of rich reward.
Stuke. Brave boy, how plain this princely mind in thee
Argues the height and honour of thy birth!
And well have I observed thy forwardness; —
Which being tender'd by your majesty,
No doubt the quarrel, open'd by the mouth
Of this young prince unpartially to us,
May animate and hearten all the host
To fight against the devil for Lord Mahamet.
K. Seb. True, Stukeley; and so freshly to my mind
Hath this young prince reduced his father's wrong,
That in good time I hope this honour's fire,
Kindled already with regard of right,
Bursts into open flames, and calls for wars,
Wars, wars, to plant the true-succeeding prince. —
Lord Mahamet, I take thy noble son
A pledge of honour, and shall use him so. —
Lord Lodowick, and my good Lord of Avero,
See this young prince convey'd safe to Messegon,
And there accompanied as him fitteth best:
And to this war prepare ye more and less,
This rightful war, that Christians' God will bless.