Classic Poem

ACT V. SCENE I.

Enter Prince.

Prince . If Happiness be a substantial Good,
Not fram'd of accidents, nor subject to'em,
I err'd to seek it in a blind Revenge,
Or think it lost in loss of Sight, or Empire;
'Tis something sure within us, not subjected
To sense of sight, only to be discern'd
By Reason, my Soul's Eye, and that still sees
Clearly, and clearer for the want of these;
For gazing through these Windows of the Body,
It met such several, such distracting Objects;
But now confin'd within it self, it sees
A strange, and unknown World, and there discovers
Torrents of Anger, Mountains of Ambition,
Gulfs of Desire, and Towers of Hope, huge Giants,
Monsters, and savage Beasts; to vanquish these,
Will be a braver Conquest than the old
Or the new World.
O happiness of Blindness! now no Beauty
Inflames my Lust; no others good, my Envy;
Or Misery, my Pity; no Man's Wealth
Draws my Respect, nor Poverty my Scorn;
Yet still I see enough. Man to himself
Is a large Prospect, rais'd above the level
Of his low creeping Thoughts; if then I have
A World within my self, that World shall be
My Empire; there I'll Reign, commanding freely,
And willingly obey'd, secure from Fear
Of Foreign Forces, or Domestick Treasons,
And hold a Monarchy more free, more absolute
Than in my Father's Seat; and looking down
With Scorn or Pity, on the slippery State
Of Kings, will tread upon the Neck of Fate.

Enter Bashaws disguis'd, with Haly.

1 Bash. Sir, 'tis of near concernment, and imports
No less than the King's Life and Honour.
Ha. May not I know it?
Bash. You may, Sir. But in his Presence we are T'impart it first to him.
Ha. Our Persian State descends not
To Interviews with Strangers: But from whence
Comes this Discovery, or you that bring it?
2 Bash. We are, Sir, of Natolia.
Ha. Natolia! Heard you nothing
Of two Villains that lately fled from hence?
1 Bash. The Bashaws , Sir?
Ha. The same.
2 Bash. They are nearer than you think for.
Ha. Where?
1 Bash. In Persia.
Ha. In Arms again to tempt another Slavery?
2 Bash. No, Sir, they made some weak attempts, presuming on
The reputation of their former Greatness:
But having lost their Fame and Fortunes,
'Tis no wonder they lost their Friends; now hopeless and forlorn
They are return'd, and somewhere live obscurely,
To expect a change in Persia ; nor will't be hard
To find 'em.
Ha. Do't, and name your own Rewards.
2 Bash. We dare do nothing 'till we have seen the King
And then you shall command us.
Ha. Well, though 'tis not usual,
Ye shall have free Access.

Enter King and Haly.

1 Bash. Sir, there were two Turkish Prisoners lately fled
From hence for a suppos'd Conspiracy
Between the Prince and them.
King . Where are the Villains?
1 Bash. This is the Villain, Sir;
And we the wrongfully accus'd:
You gave Life, Sir,
And we took it
As a free noble Gift; but when we heard
'Twas valued at the Price of your Son's Honour,
We came to give it back, as a poor trifle,
Priz'd at a rate too high.
King. Haly ,
I cannot think my Favours plac'd so ill,
To be so ill requited; yet their Confidence
Has something in't that looks like Innocence.
Ha. Aside. Is't come to that? then to my last and surest Refuge.
King. Sure if the Guilt were theirs, they could not charge thee
With such a gallant Boldness: if 'twere thine,
Thou could'st not hear't with such a silent Scorn;
I am amaz'd.
Ha. Sir, perplex your. Thoughts no farther,
They have Truth to make 'em bold;
And I have Power to scorn it: 'twas I, Sir,
That betray'd him, and you, and them.
King. Is this Impudence, or Madness?
Ha. Neither:
A very sober, and sad Truth — — to you, Sir.
King. A Guard there.

Enter Mirvan, and others.

King. Seize him.
Ha. Seize them; now
Though 'tis too late to learn, yet know
'Gainst you are King again, what 'tis to let your Subjects
Dispose all Offices of Trust and Power:
The Beast obeys his Keeper, and looks up,
Not to his Master's, but his Feeder's Hand;
And when you gave me Power to dispense
And make your Favours mine, in the same Hour
You made your self my shadow: and 'twas my Courtesie
To let you Live, and Reign so long,
King. Without there!

Enter two or three, and join with the others.

What, none but Traitors? Has this Villain
Breath'd Treason into all, and with that Breath,
Like a contagious Vapour, blasted Loyalty?
Sure Hell it self hath sent forth all her Furies,
T'inhabit and possess this place.
Ha. Sir, Passions without Power,
Like Seas against a Rock, but lose their Fury.
Mirvan , take these Villains, and see 'em strangled.
1 Bash. Farewel, Sir, commend us to your Son, let him know,
That since we cannot die his Servants,
We'll die his Martyrs.
King. Farewel, unhappy Friends,
A long, Farewel; and may you find Rewards
Great as your Innocence; or, which is more,
Great as your Wrongs.
2 Bash. Come, thou art troubled,
Thou dost not fear to die?
1 Bash. No, but to lose my Death,
To sell my Life so cheap, while this proud Villain
That takes it must survive.
2 Bash. We shall not lose our Deaths,
If Heav'n can hear the Cries of guiltless Blood,
Which it sure must; for I have heard th are loud ones;
Vengeance shall overtake thee.
Ha. Away with 'em.
King. Stay, Haly , they are Innocent; yet Life, when 'tis thy Gift,
Is worse than Death, I disdain to ask it.
1 Bash. And we to take it.
Ha. Do not ask it, Sir,
For them, to whom you owe your Ruin, they have undone you;
Had not they told you this, you had liv'd secure,
And happy in your Ignorance; but this Injury,
Since 'tis not in your Nature to forgive it,
I must not leave it in your Power to punish it.
King. Heav'n, though from thee I have deserv'd this Plague,
Be thou my Judge and Witness, from this Villain
'Tis undeserv'd.
Had I but felt your Vengeance from some hand
That first had suffer'd mine, it had been Justice:
But have you sent this sad return of all
My Love, my Trust, my Favours?
Ha. Sir, there's a great resemblance
Between your Favours, and my Injuries;
Those are too great to be requited, these
Too great to be forgiven: and therefore
'Tis but in vain to mention either.
King. Mirza, Mirza ,
How art thou lost by my deceiv'd Credulity?
I'll beg thy Pardon.
Ha. Stay, Sir, not without my leave:
Go some of you, and let the People know
The King keeps State, and will not come in Publick:
If any great Affairs, or State Addresses,
Bring 'em to me.
King. How have I taught the Villain
To act my part? but oh, my Son, my Son,
Shall I not see thee?
Ha. For once you shall, Sir,
But you must grant me one thing.
King. Traitor, dost thou mock my Miseries?
What can I give but this unhappy Life?
Ha. Alas! Sir, it is but that I ask, and 'tis my Modesty
To ask it, it being in my Power to take it:
When you shall see him, Sir, to die for Pity,
'Twere such a thing, 'twould so deceive the World,
And make the People think you were good-natur'd;
'Twill look so well in Story, and become
The Stage so handsomely.
King. I ne'er deny'd thee any thing, and shall not now
Deny thee this. Though I could stand upright
Under the Tyranny of Age and Fortune,
Yet the sad weight of such Ingratitude
Will crush me into Earth.
Ha. Lose not your Tears, but keep
Your Lamentations for your Son, or Sins;
For both deserve 'em: but you must make haste, Sir,
Or he'll not stay your coming.
'Tis now about the Hour the Poison
Must take effect.
King. Poison'd? oh Heav'n!
Ha. Nay, Sir, lose no time in Wonder, both of us
Have much to do; if you will see your Son,
Here's one shall bring you to him.
Some unskilful Pilot had shipwrackt here;
But I not only against sure
And likely Ills have made my self secure;
But so confirm'd, and fortify'd my State,
To set it safe above the reach of Fate.

Enter Prince led by a Servant, at the other Door Princess and Soffy.

Serv. Sir, the Princess and your Son.
Prince. Soffy , thou com'st to wonder at
Thy wretched Father: why dost thou interrupt
Thy Happiness, by looking on an Object
So miserable?
Princess. My Lord, methinks there is not in your Voice
The Vigour that was wont, nor in your Look
The wonted Chearfulness. Are you well, my Lord?
Prince. No: but I shall be. I feel my Health a coming.
Princess. What's your Disease, my Lord?
Prince. Nothing, but I have ta'en a Cordial,
Sent by the King or Haly , in requital
Of all my Miseries, to make me happy:
The Pillars of this Frame grow weak,
As if the weight of many Years oppress'd 'em;
My Sinews slacken, and an Icy stiffness
Benums my Blood.
Princess. Alas, I fear he' Poison'd:
Call all the help that Art, or Herbs, or Minerals
Can minister.
Prince. No, 'tis too late:
And they that gave me this, are too well practis'd
In such an Art, to attempt and not perform.
Princess . Yet try my Lord, revive your Thoughts, the Empire
Expects you, your Father's dying.
Prince. So when the Ship is sinking,
The Winds that wrackt it cease.
Princess. Will you be the scorn of Fortune,
To come near a Crown, and only near it?
Prince . I am not Fortune's Scorn, but she is mine,
More blind than I.
Princess. O Tyranny of Fate! to bring
Death in one hand, and Empire in the other;
Only to shew us Happiness, and then
To snatch us from it.
Prince. They snatch me to it;
My Saul is on her Journey, do not now
Divert, or lead her back, to lose her self
I' th amaze, and winding Labyrinths o th' World:
I prethee do not weep, thy Love is that
I part with most unwillingly, or otherwise
I had not staid till rude necessity
Had forc'd me hence.
Soffy , be not a Man too soon,
And when thou art, take heed of too much Virtue;
It was thy Father's, and his only Crime,
'Twill make the King suspicious; yet e'er Time,
By Nature's Course has ripen'd thee to Man
'Twill mellow him to Dust; till then forget
I was thy Father, yet forget it not,
My great Example shall excite thy Thoughts
To noble Actions. And you dear Erythaea ,
Give not your Passions vent; nor let blind Fury
Precipitate your Thoughts, nor set 'em working,
Till time shall lend 'em better Means and Instruments
Than lost Complaints. Where's pretty Fatyma?
She must forgive my rash ungentle Passion.
Princess. What do you mean, Sir?
Prince. I am asham'd to tell you,
I prethee call her.
Princess. I will. Sir, I pray try
If Sleep will ease your Torments, and repair
Your wasted Spirits.
Prince. Sleep to those empty Lids
Is grown a Stranger, and the Day and Night
As undistinguisht by my Sleep, as Sight.
O happiness of Poverty! that rests
Securely on a Bed of living Turf,
While we with waking Cares and restless Thoughts,
Lye tumbling on our Down, courting the Blessing
Of a short Minute's Slumber, which the Ploughman
Shakes from him, as a ransom'd Slave his Fetters:
Call in some Musick, I have heard soft Airs.
Can charm our Senses, and expel our Cares.
Is Erythaea gone?
Serv. Yes, Sir.
Prince. 'Tis well:
I would not have her present at my Death.

Enter Musick.

Morpheus, the humble God, that dwells
In Cottages and Smoaky Cells,
Hates gilded Roofs and Beds of Down;
And though he fears no Prince's Frown,
Flies from the Circle of a Crown.

Come, I say, thou powerful God,
And thy Leaden charming Rod,
Dipt in the Lethaean Lake ,
O'er his wakeful Temples shake,
Lest he should Sleep and never wake.

Nature (alas) why art thou so
Obliged to thy greatest Foe?
Sleep that is thy best Repast,
Tet of Death it bears a Taste,
And both are the same thing at last.

Serv. So now he sleeps, let's leave him
To his Repose.

Enter King.

King. The Horror of this place presents
The Horror of my Crimes; I fain would ask
What I am loth to hear, but I am well prepar'd:
They that are past all hope of Good, are past
All fear of Ill: and yet if he be dead,
Speak softly or uncertainly.
Phy. Sir, he sleeps.
King. O that's too plain, I know thou mean'st his last,
His long, his endless Sleep.
Phy. No, Sir, he lives: but yet
I fear the Sleep you speak of will be his next:
For Nature, like a weak and weary Traveller,
Tir'd with a tedious and rugged way,
Not by desire provok'd, but ev'n betray'd
By weariness and want of Spirits,
Gives up her self to this unwilling slumber.
King. Thou hast it, Haly , 'tis indeed a sad
And sober Truth, though the first
And only Truth thou ever told'st me:
And 'tis a fatal sign, when Kings hear Truth,
Especially when Flatterers dare speak it.
Prince. I thought I heard my Father, does he think the Poison
Too slow, and comes to see the Operation?
Or does he think his Engine dull, or honest?
Less apt to execute, than he to bid him:
He needs not, 'tis enough, it will succeed
To his expectation.
King. 'Tis indeed thy Father,
Thy wretched Father; but so far from acting
New Cruelties, that if those already past,
Acknowledg'd and repented of, can yet
Receive a Pardon, by those mutual Bonds
Nature has seal'd between us, which though I
Have cancell'd, thou hast still preserv'd inviolate,
I beg thy Pardon.
Prince. Death in it self appears
Lovely and sweet, not only to be pardoned,
But wisht for, had it come from any other hand,
But from a Father; a Father.
A Name so full of Life, of Love, of Pity:
Death from a Father's Hand, from whom I first
Receiv'd a Being, 'tis a preposterous Gift,
An Act at which inverted Nature starts,
And blushes to behold her self so cruel.
King. Take thou that Comfort with thee, and be not deaf to Truth:
By all that's Holy, by the dying accents
Of thine, and my last Breath, I never meant,
I never wisht it: Sorrow has so o'er-fraught
This sinking Barque, I shall not live to shew
How I abhor, or how I would repent
My first rash Crime; but he that now
Has poison'd thee, first poison'd me with Jealousie,
A foolish causless Jealousie.
Prince. Since you believe my Innocence,
I cannot but believe your Sorrow:
But does the Villain live? A just Revenge
Would more become the Sorrows of a King,
Than womanish Complaints.
King. O Mirza! Mirza!
I have no more the Power to do it,
Than thou to see it done: My Empire, Mirza ,
My Empire's lost: thy Virtue was the Rock
On which it firmly stood, that being undermin'd,
It sunk with its own weight; the Villain whom my Breath created,
Now braves it in my Throne.
Prince . O for an hour of Life; but 'twill not be:
Revenge and Justice we must leave to Heav'n.
I would say more, but Death hath taken in the Outworks,
And now assails the Fort; I feel, I feel him
Gnawing my Heart-strings: Farewel, and yet I would — —
King . O stay, stay but a while, and take me with thee;
Come Death, let me embrace thee; thou that wert
The worst of all my Fears, art now the best
Of all my Hopes. But Fate, why hast thou added
This Curse to all the rest? the love of Life;
We love it, and yet hate it; Death we loath,
And still desire; flie to it, and yet it.

Enter Princess and Soffy.

Princess . He's gone, he's gone for ever:
O that the Poison had mistaken his,
And met this hated Life; but cruel Fate
Envied so great a Happiness: Fate that still
Flies from the Wretched, and pursues the Blest.
Ye Heav'ns! But why should I complain to them
That hear me not, or bow to those that hate me?
Why should your Curses so outweigh your Blessings?
They come but single, and long expectation
Takes from their Value: but these fall upon us
Double and sudden.
Yet more of Horror, then farewel my Tears,
And my just Anger be no more confin'd
To vain Complaints, or self-devouring Silence;
But break, break forth upon him like a Deluge,
And the great Spirit of my injur'd Lord
Possess me, and inspire me with a Rage
Great as thy Wrongs, and let me call together
All my Soul's Powers, to throw a Curse upon him
Black as his Crimes.
King . O spare your Anger, 'tis lost;
For he whom thou accusest has already
Condemn'd himself, and is as miserable
As thou canst think, or wish him; spit upon me,
Cast all Reproaches on me, Woman's Wit
Or Malice can invent, I'll thank thee for them;
What e'er can give me a more lively Sense
Of my own Crimes, that so I may repent 'ern
Princess . O cruel Tyrant! couldst thou be so barbarous
To a Son as Noble as thy self art Vile?
That knew no other Crime but too much Virtue;
Nor could deserve so great a Punishment
For any Fault, but that he was thy Son?
Now not content to exceed all other Tyrants,
Exceed'st thy self: first robbing him of Sight,
Then seeming by a feign'd and forc'd Repentance,
To expiate that Crime, didst win him to
A false security, and now by Poison
Hast rob'd him of his Life.
King . Were but my Soul as pure
From other Guilts as that, Heav'n did not hold
One more immaculate. Yet what I have done,
He dying did forgive me, and hadst thou been present,
Thou wouldst have done the same: for thou art Happy,
Compar'd to me; I am not only miserable,
But wicked too; thy Miseries may find
Pity, and Help from others; but mine make me
The Scorn, and the Reproach of all the World;
Thou, like unhappy Merchants, whose Adventures
Are dasht on Rocks, or swallowed up in Storms,
Ow'st all thy Losses to the Fates: but I,
Like wastful Prodigals, have cast away
My Happiness, and with it all Mens Pity:
Thou seest how weak and wretched Guilt can make
Even Kings themselves, when a weak Woman's Anger
Can master mine.
Princess . And your Sorrow
As much o'ercomes my Anger, and turns it into melting Pity.
King . Pity not me, nor yet deplore your Husband;
But seek the Safety of your Son, his Innocence
Will be too weak a Guard, when nor my Greatness,
Nor yet his Father's Virtues could protect us.
Go on, my Boy; the just Revenge of all
Our Wrongs I recommend to thee and Heav'n;
I feel my Weakness growing strong upon me:
Death, thou art he that wilt not flatter Princes,
That stoops not to Authority, nor gives
A specious Name to Tyranny; but shews
Our Actions in their own deformed likeness.
Now all those Cruelties which I have acted,
To make me great, or glorious, or secure,
Look like the hated Crimes of other Men.

Enter Physician.

King . O save me, save me! who are those that stand,
And seem to threaten me?
Phy. There's no body, 'tis nothing
But some fearful Dream.
King . Yes, that's my Brother's Ghost, whose Birth-right stood
'Twixt me and Empire, like a spreading Cedar
That grows to hinder some delightful Prospect;
Him I cut down.
Next my old Father's Ghost, whom I impatient,
To have my Hopes delay'd, hastned by Violence before his fatal Day;
Then my enraged Son, who seems to beckon,
And hale me to him. I come, I come, ye Ghosts,
The greatest of you all; But sure one Hell's
Too little to contain me, and too narrow
For all my Crimes.
On Minutes, and on Moments!
Mir. My Lord, lose not yourself
In Passion, but take Counsel from Necessity:
I'll to 'em, and will let them know
The Prince is dead, and that they come too late
To give him Liberty; for Love to him
Has bred their Discontents; I'll tell them boldly,
That they have lost their Hopes.
Ha. And tell them too,
As they have lost their Hopes o' th' one, they have lost
Their Fears o th' other: tell their Leaders we desire
Their Counsel in the next Succession;
Which if it meet disturbance,
Then we shall crave Assistance from their Power,
Which Fate could not have sent in a more happy Hour.

Enter Lords , Caliph.

Cal. My Lord,
Ye hear the News, the Prince's Army is at the Gate.
Ha. Ay, I hear it, and feel it here;
But the Succession, that's the point
That first requires your Counsel,
Cal. Who should succeed, but Soffy?
Ha. What! in such times as these, when such an Army
Lies at our Gates, to chuse a Child our King?
You, my Lord Caliph , are better read in Story,
And can discourse the fatal Consequences
When Children Reign.
Cal. My Lords, if you'll be guided
By Reason and Example — —

Enter Abdal and Morat.

Ha. My Lords, you come most opportunely, we were entring
Into Dispute about the next Succession.
Ab. Who dares dispute it? we have a pow'rful Argument
Of Forty Thousand strong, that shall confute him.
Cal. A powerful Argument indeed.
Ab. Ay, such a one as will puzzle all your Logick
And Distinctions to answer it;
And since we came too late for the Performance
Of our intended Service to the Prince,
The wronged Prince, we cannot more express
Our Loyalty to him, than in the right
Of his most hopeful Son.
Ha. But is he not too Young?
Mor. Sure you think us so too; but he, and we
Are Old enough to look through your Disguise,
And under that to see his Father's Enemies.
A Guard there.

Enter Guard.

Mor. Seize him, and you that could shew Reason or Example.
Ha. Seize me! for what?
Ab. Canst thou remember such a Name as Mirza ,
And ask for what?
Ha. That Name I must remember, and with Horrour;
But few have dy'd for doing,
What they had dy'd for if they had not done:
It was the King's Command, and I was only
Th'unhappy Minister.
Ab. Ay, such a Minister as Wind to Fire,
That adds an accidental fierceness to
Its natural Fury.
Mor. If 'twere the King's Command, 'twas first thy Malice
Commanded that Command, and then obey'd it.
Ha. Nay, if you have resolv'd it, Truth and Reason
Are weak and idle Arguments;
But let me pity the unhappy Instruments
Of Prince's Wils, whose Anger is our Fate,
And yet their Love's more fatal than their Hate.
Ab. And how well that Love hath been requited,
Mirvan , your Confident,
By Torture has confest.
Mor. The Story of the King, and of the Bashaws.
Ha. Mirvan ! poor-spiritted Wretch! thou hast deceiv'd me:
Nay then farewel my Hopes, and next my Fears.

Enter Soffy.

Soffy . What horrid Noise was that of Drums and
Trumpets, that struck my Ear?
What mean these Bonds? could not my Grandsire's Jealousie
Be satisfied upon his Son, but now
Must seize his dearest Favourite? sure my turn comes next.
Ab. 'Tis come already, Sir; but to succeed him, not them:
Long live King Soffy .
Sof. But why are these Men Prisoners?
Ab. Let this inform you.
Sof. But is my Grandsire dead?
Ab. As sure as we are alive.
Sof. Then let'em still be Prisoners, away with em;
Invite our Mother from her sad Retirement,
And all that suffer, for my Father's Love,
Restraint or Punishment.

Enter Princess.

Sof. Dear Mother, make
Our Happiness compleat, by breaking through
That Cloud of Sorrow,
And let us not be wanting to our selves,
Now th'Heav'ns have done their part,
Lest so severe and obstinate a sadness
Tempt a new Vengeance.
Princess . Sir, to comply with you I'll use a violence
Upon my Nature; Joy is such a Foreigner,
So meer a Stranger to my Thoughts, I know
Not how to entertain him; but Sorrow
I've made by Custom so habitual,
'Tis now part of my Nature.
Sof. But can no Pleasure, no Delight divert it?
Greatness, or Power, which Women most affect,
If that can do it, rule me, and rule my Empire.
Princess . Sir, seek not to rob me of my Tears, Fortune
Her self is not so cruel; for my Counsels,
They may be unsuccessful, but my Prayers
Shall wait on all your Actions.

Enter Solyman, as from the Rack. Guard .

Sof. Alas poor Solyman , how he is altered!
Sol. Why, because I would not accuse your Father, when your Grandfather
Saw he could not stretch my Conscience, thus he has
Stretcht my Carcass.
Mor. I think they have stretcht his Wit too.
Sol. This is your Father's Love that lies thus in my Bones;
I might have lov'd all the Pocky Whores in Persia , and
Have felt it less in my Bones.
Sof. Thy Faith and Honesty shall be rewarded
According to thine own desire.
Sol. Friend, I pray thee tell me whereabout my Knees are,
I would fain kneel to thank his Majesty:
Why Sir, for the present my Desire is only to have
A good Bone-setter, and when your Majesty has done that Office
To the Body Politick, and some skilful
Man to this Body of mine (which if it had been a Body
Politick, had never come to this) I shall by that
Time think on something for my suffering:
But must none of these great ones be Hang'd for
Their Villainies?
Mor. Yes certainly.
Sol. Then I need look no further, some of their Estates
Will serve my turn.
So. Bring back those Villains.

Enter Haly and Caliph.

So. Now to your Tears, dear Madam, and the Ghost
Of my dead Father, will I consecrate
The first Fruits of my Justice: Let such Honours
And Funeral Rites, as to his Birth and Virtues
Are due, be first performed; then all that were
Actors, or Authors of so black a Deed,
Be sacrific'd as Victims to his Ghost:
First thou, my holy Devil, that couldst varnish
So foul an Act with the fair Name of Piety:
Next thou, th' Abuser of thy Prince's Ear.
Cal. Sir, I beg your Mercy.
Haly. And I a speedy Death, nor shall my Resolution
Disarm it self, nor condescend to parley
With foolish Hope.
So. 'Twere Cruelty to spare 'em. I am sorry
I must commence my Reign in Blood, but Duty
And Justice to my Father's Soul exact
This cruel Piety; let's study for a Punishment,
A feeling one,
And borrow from our Sorrow so much Time,
T'invent a Torment equal to their Crime.