John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Flow from the spring of life into a flood;

  Nor did it look like treason, since to me

  You were a sovereign much more great than he.

  Zemp. He was my brother, yet I scorned to pay

  Nature’s mean debts, but threw those bonds away;

  When his own issue did my hopes remove,

  Not only from his empire, but his love.

  You, that in all my wrongs then bore a part,

  Now need not doubt a place within my heart:

  I could not offer you my crown and bed,

  Till fame and envy with long time were dead;

  But fortune does now happily present

  Occasions, fit to second my intent.

  Your valour may regain the public love,

  And make the people’s choice their queen’s approve.

  [Shout.

  Hark, hark, what noise is this, that strikes my ear!

  Trax. ’Tis not a sound that should beget a fear; Such shouts as these have I heard often fly From conquering armies, crowned with victory.

  Zemp. Great God of vengeance, here I firmly vow,

  Make but my Mexicans successful now,

  And with a thousand feasts thy flames I’ll feed;

  And that I take shall on the altars bleed;

  Princes themselves shall fall, and make thy shrine,

  Died with their blood, in glorious blushes shine.

  Enter a Messenger.

  Trax. How now! What news is this that makes thy haste a flight?

  Mess. Such as brings victory without a fight. The prince Acacis lives —

  Zemp. Oh, I am blest! —

  Mess. Reserve some joy till I have told the rest.

  He’s safe, and only wants his liberty:

  But that great man, that carries victory

  Where’er he goes; that mighty man, by whom

  In three set battles we were overcome;

  Ill used (it seems) by his ungrateful king,

  Does to our camp his fate and valour bring.

  The troop gaze on him, as if some bright star

  Shot to their aids; call him the god of war:

  Whilst he, as if all conquest did of right

  Belong to him, bids them prepare to fight;

  Which if they should delay one hour, he swears

  He’ll leave them to their dangers, or their fears,

  And shame, which is the ignoble coward’s choice.

  At this the army seemed to have one voice,

  United in a shout, and called upon

  The god-like stranger, “Lead us, lead us on.”

  Make haste, great sir, lest you should come too late,

  To share with them in victory, or fate.

  Zemp. My general, go; the gods be on our side; Let valour act, but let discretion guide.

  [Exit TRAX.

  Great god of vengeance,

  I see thou dost begin to hear me now:

  Make me thy offering, if I break my vow. [Exeunt.

  ACT II.

  SCENE I.

  Enter INCA and ORAZIA, as pursued in a battle.

  Oraz. O fly, sir, fly; like torrents your swift foes Come rolling on —

  Inca. The gods can but destroy. The noblest way to fly is that death shows; I’ll court her now, since victory’s grown coy.

  Oraz. Death’s winged to your pursuit, and yet you wait To meet her —

  Inca. Poor Orazia, time and fate Must once o’ertake me, though I now should fly.

  Oraz. Do not meet death; but when it comes, then die.

  Enter three Soldiers.

  Sold. Stand, sir, and yield yourself, and that fair prey.

  Inca. You speak to one, unpractised to obey.

  Enter MONTEZUMA.

  Mont. Hold, villains, hold, or your rude lives shall be

  Lost in the midst of your own victory:

  These have I hunted for; — nay, do not stare;

  Be gone, and in the common plunder share.

  [Exeunt Soldiers.

  How different is my fate, from theirs, whose fame

  From conquest grows! from conquest grows my shame.

  Inca. Why dost thou pause? thou canst not give me back,

  With fruitless grief, what I enjoyed before;

  No more than seas, repenting of a wreck,

  Can with a calm our buried wealth restore.

  Mont. ‘Twere vain to own repentance, since I know

  Thy scorn, which did my passions once despise,

  Once more would make my swelling anger flow,

  Which now ebbs lower than your miseries:

  The gods, that in my fortunes were unkind,

  Gave me not sceptres, nor such gilded things;

  But, whilst I wanted crowns, enlarged my mind

  To despise sceptres, and dispose of kings.

  Inca. Thou art but grown a rebel by success,

  And I, that scorned Orazia should be tied

  To thee my slave, must now esteem thee less:

  Rebellion is a greater guilt than pride.

  Mont. Princes see others’ faults, but not their own;

  ’Twas you that broke that bond, and set me free:

  Yet I attempted not to climb your throne,

  And raise myself; but level you to me.

  Oraz. O, Montezuma, could thy love engage

  Thy soul so little, or make banks so low

  About thy heart, that thy revenge and rage,

  Like sudden floods, so soon should overflow?

  Ye gods, how much I was mistaken here!

  I thought you gentle as the gall-less dove;

  But you as humoursome as winds appear,

  And subject to more passions than your love.

  Mont. How have I been betrayed by guilty rage,

  Which, like a flame, rose to so vast a height,

  That nothing could resist, nor yet assuage,

  Till it wrapt all things in one cruel fate.

  But I’ll redeem myself, and act such things,

  That you shall blush Orazia was denied;

  And yet make conquest, though with wearied wings,

  Take a new flight to your own fainting side.

  Inca. Vain man, what foolish thoughts fill thy swelled mind!

  It is too late our ruin to recall;

  Those, that have once great buildings undermined,

  Will prove too weak to prop them in their fall.

  Enter TRAXALLA, with the former soldiers.

  Sold. See, mighty sir, where the bold stranger stands, Who snatched these glorious prisoners from our hands.

  Trax. ’Tis the great Inca; seize him as my prey, To crown the triumphs of this glorious day.

  Mont. Stay your bold hands from reaching at what’s mine,

  If any title springs from victory;

  You safer may attempt to rob a shrine,

  And hope forgiveness from the deity.

  Enter ACACIS.

  Trax. O, my dear prince, my joys to see you live Are more than all that victory can give.

  Aca. How are my best endeavours crost by fate!

  Else you had ne’er been lost, or found so late.

  Hurried by the wild fury of the fight,

  Far from your presence, and Orazia’s sight,

  I could not all that care and duty show,

  Which, as your captive, mighty prince, I owe.

  Inca. You often have preserved our lives this day,

  And one small debt with many bounties pay.

  But human actions hang on springs, that be

  Too small, or too remote, for us to see.

  My glories freely I to yours resign,

  And am your prisoner now, that once were mine.

  Mont. These prisoners, sir, are mine by right of war; And I’ll maintain that right, if any dare.

  Trax. Yes, I would snatch them from thy weak defence;

  But that due reverence, which I owe my prince,

  Permits me not to quarrel in his sight;

&n
bsp; To him I shall refer his general’s right.

  Mont. I knew too well what justice I should find From an armed plaintiff, and a judge so kind.

  Aca. Unkindly urged, that I should use thee so; Thy virtue is my rival, not my foe; The prisoners fortune gave thee shall be thine.

  Trax. Would you so great a prize to him resign?

  Aca. Should he, who boldly for his prey designed

  To dive the deepest under swelling tides,

  Have the less title if he chance to find

  The richest jewel that the ocean hides?

  They are his due —

  But in his virtue I repose that trust,

  That he will be as kind as I am just:

  Dispute not my commands, but go with haste,

  Rally our men, they may pursue too fast,

  And the disorders of the inviting prey

  May turn again the fortune of the day.

  [Exit TRAX.

  Mont. How gentle all this prince’s actions be! Virtue is calm in him, but rough in me.

  Aca. Can Montezuma place me in his breast?

  Mont. My heart’s not large enough for such a guest.

  Aca. See, Montezuma, see, Orazia weeps.

  [ORAZ. weeps.

  Mont. Acacis! is he deaf, or, waking, sleeps?

  He does not hear me, sees me not, nor moves;

  How firm his eyes are on Orazia fixt!

  Gods, that take care of men, let not our loves

  Become divided by their being mixt.

  Aca. Weep not, fair princess, nor believe you are

  A prisoner, subject to the chance of war;

  Why should you waste the stock of those fair eyes,

  That from mankind can take their liberties?

  And you, great sir, think not a generous mind

  To virtuous princes dares appear unkind,

  Because those princes are unfortunate,

  Since over all men hangs a doubtful fate:

  One gains by what another is bereft;

  The frugal deities have only left

  A common bank of happiness below,

  Maintained, like nature, by an ebb and flow.

  [Exeunt.

  SCENE II.

  ZEMPOALLA appears seated upon a throne, frowning upon her attendants; then comes down and speaks.

  Zemp. No more, you, that above your prince’s

  dare proclaim,

  With your rebellious breath, a stranger’s name.

  Peru. Dread empress —

  Zemp. Slaves, perhaps you grieve to see Your young prince glorious, ‘cause he sprang from me; Had he been one of base Amexia’s brood, Your tongues, though silent now, had then been loud.

  Enter TRAXALLA.

  Traxalla, welcome; welcomer to me

  Than what thou bring’st, a crown and victory.

  Trax. All I have done is nothing; fluttering

  fame

  Now tells no news, but of the stranger’s name,

  And his great deeds; ’tis he, they cry, by whom

  Not men, but war itself is overcome;

  Who, bold with his success, dares think to have

  A prince to wear his chains, and be his slave.

  Zemp. What prince?

  Trax. The great Peruvian Inca, that of late

  In three set battles was so fortunate,

  Till this strange man had power to turn the tide,

  And carry conquest into any side.

  Zemp. Would you permit a private man to have

  The great Peruvian Inca for his slave?

  Shame to all princes! was it not just now

  I made a sacred, and a solemn vow,

  To offer up (if blest with victory)

  The prisoners that were took? and they shall die.

  Trax. I soon had snatched from this proud stranger’s hand

  That too great object for his bold demand;

  Had not the prince, your son, to whom I owe

  A kind obedience, judged it should be so.

  Zemp. I’ll hear no more; go quickly take my guards,

  And from that man force those usurped rewards;

  That prince, upon whose ruins I must rise,

  Shall be the gods’, but more my sacrifice:

  They, with my slaves, in triumph shall be tied,

  While my devotion justifies my pride:

  Those deities, in whom I place my trust,

  Shall see, when they are kind, that I am just. [Exit.

  Trax. How gladly I obey!

  There’s something shoots from my enlivened frame,

  Like a new soul, but yet without a name,

  Nor can I tell what the bold guest will prove;

  It must be envy, or it must be love:

  Let it be either, ’tis the greatest bliss

  For man to grant himself, all he dares wish;

  For he, that to himself himself denies,

  Proves meanly wretched, to be counted wise.

  [Exit TRAXALLA.

  SCENE III.

  Enter MONTEZUMA and ACACIS.

  Aca. You wrong, me, my best friend, not to believe

  Your kindness gives me joy; and when I grieve,

  Unwillingly my sorrows I obey:

  Showers sometimes fall upon a shining day.

  Mont.. Let me, then, share your griefs, that in your fate Would have took part.

  Aca. Why should you ask me that? Those must be mine, though I have such excess; Divided griefs increase, and not grow less.

  Mont. It does not lessen fate, nor satisfy The grave, ’tis true, when friends together die; And yet they are unwilling to divide.

  Aca. To such a friend nothing can be denied.

  You, when you hear my story, will forgive

  My grief, and rather wonder that I live;

  Unhappy in my title to a throne,

  Since blood made way for my succession:

  Blood of an uncle too, a prince so free

  From being cruel, it taught cruelty.

  His queen Amexia then was big with child;

  Nor was he gentler than his queen was mild;

  Th’impatient people longed for what should come

  From such a father, bred in such a womb;

  When false Traxalla, weary to obey,

  Took with his life their joys and hopes away.

  Amexia, by the assistance of the night,

  When this dark deed was acted, took her flight;

  Only with true Garucca for her aid:

  Since when, for all the searches that were made,

  The queen was never heard of more: Yet still

  This traitor lives, and prospers by the ill:

  Nor does my mother seem to reign alone,

  But with this monster shares the guilt and throne.

  Horror choaks up my words: now you’ll believe,

  ’Tis just I should do nothing else but grieve.

  Mont. Excellent prince! How great a proof of virtue have you shown, To be concerned for griefs, though not your own!

  Aca. Pray, say no more.

  Enter a Messenger hastily.

  Mont. How now, whither so fast?

  Mess. O sir, I come too slow with all my haste! The fair Orazia —

  Mont. Ha, what dost thou say?

  Mess. Orazia with the Inca’s forced away

  Out of your tent; Traxalla, in the head

  Of the rude soldiers, forced the door, and led,

  Those glorious captives, who on thrones once shined,

  To grace the triumph, that is now designed. [Exit.

  Mont. Orazia forced away! — what tempests roll

  About my thoughts, and toss my troubled soul!

  Can there be gods to see, and suffer this?

  Or does mankind make his own fate or bliss;

  While every good and bad happens by chance,

  Not from their orders, but their ignorance? —

  I will pull a ruin on them all,

  And turn their triumph to a funeral.

&nb
sp; Aca. Be temperate, friend.

  Mont. You may as well advise That I should have less love, as grow more wise.

  Aca. Yet stay — I did not think to have revealed

  A secret, which my heart has still concealed;

  But, in this cause since I must share with you,

  ’Tis fit you know — I love Orazia too:

  Delay not then, nor waste the time in words,

  Orazia’s cause calls only for our swords.

  Mont. That ties my hand, and turns from thee that rage

  Another way, thy blood should else assuage:

  The storm on our proud foes shall higher rise,

  And, changing, gather blackness as it flies:

  So, when winds turn, the wandering waves obey,

  And all the tempest rolls another way.

  Aca. Draw then a rival’s sword, as I draw mine.

  And, like friends suddenly to part, let’s join

  In this one act, to seek one destiny;

  Rivals with honour may together die. [Exeunt.

  ACT III.

  SCENE I.

  ZEMPOALLA appears seated upon her Slaves in triumph, and the Indians, as to celebrate the victory, advance in a warlike dance; in the midst of which triumph, ACACIS and MONTEZUMA fall in upon them.

  ZEMPOALLA descends from her triumphant throne, and ACACIS and MONTEZUMA are brought in before her.

  Zemp. Shame of my blood, and traitor to thy own:

  Born to dishonour, not command a throne!

  Hast thou, with envious eyes, my triumph seen?

  Or couldst not see thy mother in thy queen?

  Couldst thou a stranger above me prefer?

  Aca. It was my honour made my duty err; I could not see his prisoners forced away, To whom I owed my life, and you the day.

  Zemp. Is that young man the warrior so renowned?

  Mont. Yes, he, that made thy men thrice quit their ground. Do, smile at Montezuma’s chains; but know, His valour gave thee power to use him so.

  Trax. Grant that it did, what can his merits be,

  That sought his vengeance, not our victory?

  What has thy brutish fury gained us more,

  Than only healed the wounds, it gave before?

  Die then, for, whilst thou liv’st, wars cannot cease;

  Thou may’st bring victory, but never peace.

  Like a black storm thou roll’st about us all,

  Even to thyself unquiet, till thy fall.

  [Draws to kill him.

  Aca. Unthankful villain, hold!

  Trax. You must not give Him succour, sir.

  Aca. Why then, I must not live. Posterity shall ne’er report, they had Such thankless fathers, or a prince so bad.

  Zemp. You’re both too bold to will or to deny:

  On me alone depends his destiny.

  Tell me, audacious stranger, whence could rise