John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Of noble minds, which is to give, not take,

  Like me she would be satisfied, her heart

  Was well bestowed, and ask for no return.

  Amid. Pray, let my heart alone; you’ll use it as The gipsies do our money; If they once touch it, they have power upon’t.

  Enter the Servant, who appeared in the first act with GONSALVO.

  Serv. O, my dear lord, Gonsalvo de Peralta!

  Rod. De Peralta, said you? You amaze me!

  Gons. Why? — Do you know that family in Seville?

  Rod. I am myself the elder brother of it.

  Gons. Don Rodorick de Peralta!

  Rod. I was so,

  Until my mother died, whose name, de Sylva,

  I chose, (our custom not forbidding it)

  Three years ago, when I returned from Flanders:

  I came here to possess a fair estate,

  Left by an aunt, her sister; for whose sake

  I take that name; and liked the place so well,

  That never since have I returned to Seville.

  Gons. ’Twas then that change of name, which caused my letters

  All to miscarry. What an happy tempest

  Was this, which would not let me rest at Seville,

  But blew me farther on, to see you here!

  Amid. Brother, I come to claim a sister’s share: But you’re too near me, to be nearer now.

  Gons. In my room, let me beg you to receive Don Manuel.

  Amid. I take it half unkindly,

  You give me from yourself so soon: Don Manuel,

  I know, is worthy, and, but yesterday,

  Preserved my life; but, it will take some time

  To change my heart.

  Man. I’ll watch it patiently, as chemists do

  Their golden birth; and, when ’tis changed, receive it

  With greater care than they their rich elixir,

  Just passing from one vial to another.

  Rod. Julia is still my brother’s, though I lose her.

  Gons. You shall not lose her; Julia was born

  For none but you;

  And I for none but my Honoria:

  Julia is yours by inclination;

  And I, by conquest, am Honoria’s.

  Hon. ’Tis the most glorious one that e’er was made: And I no longer will dispute my happiness.

  Rod. Julia, you know my peevish jealousies; I cannot promise you a better husband Than you have had a servant.

  Jul. I receive you With all your faults.

  Rod. And think, when I am froward,

  My sullen humour punishes itself:

  I’m like a day in March, sometimes o’ercast

  With storms, but then the after clearness is

  The greater. The worst is, where I love most,

  The tempest falls most heavy.

  Jul. Ah! what a little time to love is lent! Yet half that time is in unkindness spent.

  Rod. That you may see some hope of my amendment, I give my friendship to Don Manuel, ere My brother asks, or he himself desires it.

  Man. I’ll ever cherish it.

  Gons. Since, for my sake, you become friends, my care

  Shall be to keep you so. You, captain, shall

  Command this carrack, and, with her, my fortunes.

  You, my Honoria, though you have an heart

  Which Julia left, yet think it not the worse;

  ’Tis not worn out, but polished by the wearing.

  Your merit shall her beauty’s power remove;

  Beauty but gains, obligement keeps our love.

  [Exeunt.

  THE INDIAN QUEEN

  A TRAGEDY,

  WRITTEN BY THE HON. SIR ROBERT HOWARD, AND MR DRYDEN.

  The plays of Sir Robert Howard were tolerated by his contemporaries, on account of the rank, gallantry, and loyalty, of the author; at least, we are now unable to discover any better reason for their success. The Committee, alone, kept possession of the stage till our time; and that solely supported by the humours of Teague, an honest blundering Irish footman, such as we usually see in a modern farce. From a hint, given by Langbaine, Sir Robert Howard seems to have been suspected of frequent plagiarisms. At any rate it is certain, that, in the composition of the Indian Queen, he was so fortunate, as to have the assistance of our great poet, who was bound to him by ties of personal obligation.

  It is, of course, difficult even to guess at the share which Dryden had in the Indian Queen. Several of the characters have a strong resemblance to others, which he afterwards drew in bolder colours. Thus, Montezuma, who, like the hero of an ancient romance, bears fortune to any side which he pleases to espouse, is justly pointed out by Settle, as the prototype of Almanzor; though we look in vain for the glowing language, which, though sometimes bordering on burlesque, suits so well the extravagant character of the Moorish hero. Zempoalla strongly resembles Nourmuhal in Aureng-Zebe; both shewing that high spirit of pride, with which Dryden has often invested his female characters. The language of the Indian Queen possesses, in general, greater ease, and a readier flow of verse, than Sir Robert Howard appears to have possessed, when unassisted. Of this he seems, himself, to have been sensible; and alludes to Dryden’s acknowledged superiority, when maintaining against him the cause of dramatic blank verse, as preferable to rhyme. Besides general hints towards the conception of the characters, and a superintendance of the dialogue, it is probable, that Dryden wrote some entire scenes of the following piece. In the third act particularly, the passage respecting the incantation, which resembles that in the Indian Emperor, has strong traces of our author’s manner.

  The Indian Queen was acted in 1664; and received, says Langbaine, with great applause. It was printed in 1665.

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  ACT I.

  ACT II.

  ACT III.

  ACT IV.

  ACT V.

  EPILOGUE.

  PROLOGUE

  As the music plays a soft air, the curtain rises slowly, and discovers an Indian Boy and Girl sleeping under two plantain-trees; and, when the curtain is almost up, the music turns into a tune expressing an alarm, at which the Boy awakes, and speaks;

  Boy. WAKE, wake, Quevira! our soft rest must cease,

  And fly together with our country’s peace!

  No more must we sleep under plantain shade,

  Which neither heat could pierce, nor cold invade;

  Where bounteous nature never feels decay,

  And opening buds drive falling fruits away.

  Que. Why should men quarrel here, where all possess

  As much as they can hope for by success? —

  None can have most, where nature is so kind,

  As to exceed man’s use, though not his mind.

  Boy. By ancient prophecies we have been told, Our world shall be subdued by one more old; — And, see, that world already hither come.

  Que. If these be they, we welcome then our doom! Their looks are Such, that mercy flows from thence, More gentle than our native innocence.

  Boy. Why should we then fear these, our enemies, That rather seem to us like deities?

  Que. By their protection, let us beg to live;

  They came not here to conquer, but forgive. —

  If so, your goodness may your power express,

  And we shall judge both best by our success.

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  The Inca of Peru. MONTEZUMA, his General.

  ACACIS, son to ZEMPOALLA.

  TRAXALLA, General to ZEMPOALLA.

  GARUCCA, a faithful subject to AMEXIA.

  The God of Dreams.

  ISMERON, one of the prophets, a conjuror.

  Officers and Soldiers. Peruvians and Mexicans. Priests.

  AMEXIA, the lawful queen of Mexico.

  ZEMPOALLA, the usurping Indian Queen.

  ORAZIA,daughter to the Inca.

  Attendants of Ladies.

  ACT I.

&nb
sp; SCENE I.

  Enter Inca, ORAZIA, MONTEZUMA, ACACIS, prisoners, with Peruvians.

  Inca. Thrice have the Mexicans before us fled,

  Their armies broke, their prince in triumph led;

  Both to thy valour, brave young man, we owe;

  Ask thy reward, but such as it may show

  It is a king thou hast obliged, whose mind

  Is large, and, like his fortune, unconfined.

  Mont. Young, and a stranger, to your court I

  came,

  There, by your favour, raised to what I am:

  I conquer, but in right of your great fate,

  And so your arms, not mine, are fortunate.

  Inca. I am impatient, till this debt be paid.

  Which still encreases on me while delayed;

  A bounteous monarch to himself is kind:

  Ask such a gift as may for ever bind

  Thy service to my empire, and to me.

  Mont. What can this gift, he bids me ask him, be!

  Perhaps he has perceived our mutual fires,

  And now, with ours, would crown his own desires;

  ’Tis so, he sees my service is above

  All other payments but his daughter’s love.

  [Aside.

  Inca. So quick to merit, and to take so slow?

  I first prevent small wishes, and bestow

  This prince, his sword and fortunes, to thy hand;

  He’s thine unasked; now make thy free demand.

  Mont. Here, prince, receive this sword, as only due

  [Gives ACACIS his sword.

  To that excess of courage shown in you. —

  When you, without demand, a prince bestow,

  Less than a prince to ask of you were low.

  Inca. Then ask a kingdom; say, where thou wilt reign.

  Mont. I beg not empires, those my sword can gain;

  But, for my past and future service too,

  What I have done, and what I mean to do;

  For this of Mexico which I have won,

  And kingdoms I will conquer yet unknown;

  I only ask from fair Orazia’s eyes

  To reap the fruits of all my victories.

  Peru. Our Inca’s colour mounts into his face.

  Peru. His looks speak death.

  Inca. Young man of unknown race,

  Ask once again; so well thy merits plead,

  Thou shall not die for that which thou hast said;

  The price of what thou ask’st, thou dost not know;

  That gift’s too high.

  Mont. And all besides too low.

  Inca. Once more I bid thee ask.

  Mont. Once more I make The same demand.

  Inca. The Inca bids thee take Thy choice, what towns, what kingdoms thou would’st have.

  Mont. Thou giv’st me only what before I gave. Give me thy daughter.

  Inca. Thou deserv’st to die.

  O thou great author of our progeny,

  Thou glorious sun, dost thou not blush to shine,

  While such base blood attempts to mix with thine!

  Mont. That sun, thou speak’st of, did not hide his face, When he beheld me conquering with his race.

  Inca. My fortunes gave thee thy success in fight! Convey thy boasted valour from my sight; I can o’ercome without thy feeble aid.

  [Exeunt Inca, ORAZIA, and Peruvians.

  Mont. And is it thus my services are paid? Not all his guards —

  [Offers to go, ACACIS holds him.

  Aca. Hold, sir.

  Mont. Unhand me.

  Aca. No, I must your rage prevent

  From doing what your reason would repent;

  Like the vast seas, your mind no limits knows,

  Like them, lies open to each wind that blows.

  Mont. Can a revenge, that is so just, be ill?

  Aca. It is Orazia’s father, you would kill.

  Mont. Orazia! how that name has charmed my sword!

  Aca. Compose these wild distempers in your breast; Anger, like madness, is appeased by rest.

  Mont. Bid children sleep, my spirits boil too high;

  But, since Orazia’s father must not die,

  A nobler vengeance shall my actions guide;

  I’ll bear the conquest to the conquered side,

  Until this Inca for my friendship sues,

  And proffers what his pride does now refuse.

  Aca. Your honour is obliged to keep your trust.

  Mont. He broke that bond, in ceasing to be just.

  Aca. Subjects to kings should more obedience pay.

  Mont. Subjects are bound, not strangers, to obey.

  Aca. Can you so little your Orazia prize,

  To give the conquest to her enemies?

  Can you so easily forego her sight?

  I, that hold liberty more dear than light,

  Yet to my freedom should my chains prefer,

  And think it were well lost to stay with her.

  Mont. How unsuccessfully I still o’ercome!

  I brought a rival, not a captive, home;

  Yet I may be deceived; but ’tis too late

  To clear those doubts, my stay brings certain fate.

  [Aside.

  Come, prince, you shall to Mexico return,

  Where your sad armies do your absence mourn;

  And in one battle I will gain you more

  Than I have made you lose in three before.

  Aca. No, Montezuma, though you change your side, I, as a prisoner, am by honour tied.

  Mont. You are my prisoner, and I set you free.

  Aca. ‘Twere baseness to accept such liberty.

  Mont. From him, that conquered you, it should be sought.

  Aca. No, but from him, for whom my conqueror fought.

  Mont. Still you are mine, his gift has made you so.

  Aca. He gave me to his general, not his foe.

  Mont. How poorly have you pleaded honour’s laws! Yet shun the greatest in your country’s cause.

  Aca. What succour can the captive give the free.

  Mont. A needless captive is an enemy. In painted honour you would seem to shine; But ‘twould be clouded, were your wrongs like mine.

  Aca. When choler such unbridled power can

  have,

  Thy virtue seems but thy revenge’s slave:

  If such injustice should my honour stain,

  My aid would prove my nation’s loss, not gain.

  Mont. Be cozened by thy guilty honesty, To make thyself thy country’s enemy.

  Aca. I do not mean in the next fight to stain

  My sword in blood of any Mexican,

  But will be present in the fatal strife,

  To guard Orazia’s and the Inca’s life.

  Mont. Orazia’s life, fond man! First guard thy own; Her safety she must owe to me alone.

  Aca. Your sword, that does such wonders, cannot be, In an ill cause, secure of victory.

  Mont. Hark, hark! [Noise of trampling.

  Aca. What noise is this invades my ear?

  Fly, Montezuma! fly, the guards are near:

  To favour your retreat, I’ll freely pay

  That life, which you so frankly gave this day.

  Mont. I must retire; but those, that follow me, Pursue their deaths, and not their victory.

  [Exit MONT.

  Aca. Our quarrels kinder than our friendships prove: You for my country fight, I for your love.

  Enter INCA and Guards.

  Inca. I was to blame to leave this madman free; Perhaps he may revolt to the enemy, Or stay, and raise some fatal mutiny.

  Aca. Stop your pursuits, for they must pass through me.

  Inca. Where is the slave?

  Aca. Gone.

  Inca. Whither?

  Aca. O’er the plain; Where he may soon the camp, or city, gain.

  Inca. Curse on my dull neglect! And yet I do less cause of wonder find, That he is gone, than that thou stayest behind.

  Aca. My treatment, si
nce you took me, was so free,

  It wanted but the name of liberty.

  I with less shame can still your captive live,

  Than take that freedom, which you did not give.

  Inca. Thou brave young man, that hast thy years outdone,

  And, losing liberty, hast honour won,

  I must myself thy honour’s rival make,

  And give that freedom, which thou would’st not take.

  Go, and be safe. —

  Aca. But that you may be so —

  Your dangers must be past before I go.

  Fierce Montezuma will for fight prepare,

  And bend on you the fury of the war,

  Which, by my presence, I will turn away,

  If fortune gives my Mexicans the day.

  Inca. Come, then, we are alike to honour just, Thou to be trusted thus, and I to trust. [Exeunt.

  SCENE II. — Mexico.

  Enter ZEMPOALLA, TRAXALLA, and attendants.

  Zemp. O my Acacis!

  Does not my grief, Traxalla, seem too rude,

  Thus to press out before my gratitude

  Has paid my debts to you? — yet it does move

  My rage and grief, to see those powers above

  Punish such men, as, if they be divine,

  They know will most adore, and least repine.

  Trax. Those, that can only mourn when they are crost,

  May lose themselves with grieving for the lost.

  Rather to your retreated troops appear,

  And let them see a woman void of fear:

  The shame of that may call their spirits home.

  Were the prince safe, we were not overcome,

  Though we retired: O, his too youthful heat,

  That thrust him where the dangers were so great!

  Heaven wanted power his person to protect

  From that, which he had courage to neglect:

  But since he’s lost, let us draw forth, and pay

  His funeral rites in blood; that we or they

  May, in our fates, perform his obsequies,

  And make death triumph when Acacis dies.

  Zemp. That courage, thou hast shown in fight, seems less

  Than this, amidst despair to have excess:

  Let thy great deeds force fate to change her mind:

  He, that courts fortune boldly, makes her kind.

  Trax. If e’er Traxalla so successful proves,

  May he then say he hopes, as well as loves;

  And that aspiring passion boldly own,

  Which gave my prince his fate, and you his throne?

  I did not feel remorse to see his blood