John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Piz. Increase their pains, the cords are yet too slack.

  Chr. Pr. I must by force convert him on the rack.

  Ind. High Pr. I faint away, and find I can no more: Give leave, O king, I may reveal thy store, And free myself from pains, I cannot bear.

  Mont. Think’st thou I lie on beds of roses here, Or in a wanton bath stretched at my ease? Die, slave, and with thee die such thoughts as these. [High Priest turns aside, and dies.

  Enter CORTEZ attended by Spaniards, he speaks entering.

  Cort. On pain of death, kill none but those who fight;

  I much repent me of this bloody night:

  Slaughter grows murder when it goes too far,

  And makes a massacre what was a war:

  Sheath all your weapons, and in silence move,

  ’Tis sacred here to beauty, and to love.

  Ha — [Sees MONT.

  What dismal sight is this, which takes from me

  All the delight, that waits on victory!

  [Runs to take him off the rack.

  Make haste: How now, religion, do you frown?

  Haste, holy avarice, and help him down.

  Ah, father, father, what do I endure

  [Embracing MONT.

  To see these wounds my pity cannot cure!

  Mont. Am I so low that you should pity bring,

  And give an infant’s comfort to a king?

  Ask these, if I have once unmanly groaned;

  Or aught have done deserving to be moaned.

  Cort. Did I not charge, thou shouldst not stir from hence?

  [To Piz.

  But martial law shall punish thy offence.

  And you, [To the Christian Priest.

  Who saucily teach monarchs to obey,

  And the wide world in narrow cloisters sway;

  Set up by kings as humble aids of power,

  You that which bred you, viper-like, devour,

  You enemies of crowns —

  Chr. Pr. Come, let’s away,

  We but provoke his fury by our stay.

  Cort. If this go free, farewell that discipline,

  Which did in Spanish camps severely shine:

  Accursed gold, ’tis thou hast caused these crimes;

  Thou turn’st our steel against thy parent climes!

  And into Spain wilt fatally be brought,

  Since with the price of blood thou here art bought.

  [Exeunt Priest and PIZARRO. [CORTEZ kneels by MONTEZUMA, and weeps.

  Cort. Can you forget those crimes they did commit?

  Mont. I’ll do what for my dignity is fit:

  Rise, sir, I’m satisfied the fault was theirs:

  Trust me, you make me weep to see your tears:

  Must I chear you?

  Cort. Ah heavens!

  Mont. You’re much to blame;

  Your grief is cruel, for it shows my shame,

  Does my lost crown to my remembrance bring:

  But weep not you, and I’ll be still a king.

  You have forgot, that I your death designed,

  To satisfy the proud Almeria’s mind:

  You, who preserved my life, I doomed to die.

  Cort. Your love did that, and not your cruelty.

  Enter a Spaniard.

  Span. Prince Guyomar the combat still maintains,

  Our men retreat, and he their ground regains:

  But once encouraged by our general’s sight,

  We boldly should renew the doubtful fight.

  Cort. Remove not hence, you shall not long attend; [To MONTEZUMA. I’ll aid my soldiers, yet preserve my friend.

  Mont. Excellent man! [Exeunt CORTEZ, &c. But I, by living, poorly take the way To injure goodness, which I cannot pay.

  Enter ALMERIA.

  Alm. Ruin and death run armed through every street;

  And yet that fate, I seek, I cannot meet:

  What guards misfortunes are and misery!

  Death, that strikes all, yet seems afraid of me.

  Mont. Almeria here! Oh turn away your face!

  Must you be witness too of my disgrace?

  Alm. I am not that Almeria whom you knew,

  But want that pity I denied to you:

  Your conqueror, alas, has vanquished me;

  But he refuses his own victory:

  While all are captives in your conquered state,

  I find a wretched freedom in his hate.

  Mont. Couldst thou thy love on one who scorned thee lose?

  He saw not with my eyes, who could refuse:

  Him, who could prove so much unkind to thee,

  I ne’er will suffer to be kind to me.

  Alm. I am content in death to share your fate; And die for him I love, with him I hate.

  Mont. What shall I do in this perplexing strait! My tortured limbs refuse to bear my weight: [Endeavouring to walk, not being able. I cannot go to death to set me free; Death must be kind, and come himself to me.

  Alm. I’ve thought upon’t: I have affairs below,

  [ALM. musing.

  Which I must needs despatch before I go:

  Sir, I have found a place where you may be, [To him.

  (Though not preserved) yet, like a king, die free;

  The general left your daughter in the tower,

  We may a while resist the Spaniards’ power,

  If Guyomar prevail.

  Mont. Make haste and call; She’ll hear your voice, and answer from the wall.

  Alm. My voice she knows and fears, but use your own; And, to gain entrance, feign you are alone. [ALM. steps behind.

  Mont. Cydaria!

  Alm. Louder.

  Mont. Daughter!

  Alm. Louder yet.

  Mont. Thou canst not, sure, thy father’s voice forget.

  [He knocks at the door, at last CYDARIA looks over the balcony.

  Cyd. Since my love went, I have been frighted so,

  With dismal groans, and noises from below;

  I durst not send my eyes abroad, for fear

  Of seeing dangers, which I yet but hear.

  Mont. Cydaria!

  Cyd. Sure, ’tis my father calls.

  Mont. Dear child, make haste;

  All hope of succour, but from thee, is past:

  As when, upon the sands, the traveller

  Sees the high sea come rolling from afar,

  The land grow short, he mends his weary pace,

  While death behind him covers all the place:

  So I, by swift misfortunes, am pursued,

  Which on each other are, like waves, renewed.

  Cyd. Are you alone?

  Mont. I am.

  Cyd. I’ll strait descend; Heaven did you here for both our safeties send.

  [CYDARIA descends and opens the door, ALMERIA rushes betwixt with MONTEZUMA.

  Cyd. Almeria here! then I am lost again. [Both thrust.

  Alm. Yield to my strength, you struggle but in vain. Make haste and shut, our enemies appear.

  [CORTEZ and Spaniards appear at the other end.

  Cyd. Then do you enter, and let me stay here.

  [As she speaks, ALMERIA overpowers her, thrusts her in, and shuts.

  Cort. Sure I both heard her voice and saw her face:

  She’s like a vision vanished from the place.

  Too late I find my absence was too long;

  My hopes grow sickly, and my fears grow strong.

  [He knocks a little, then MONTEZUMA, CYDARIA, and ALMERIA, appear above.

  Alm. Look up, look up, and see if you can know Those, whom in vain you think to find below.

  Cyd. Look up, and see Cydaria’s lost estate.

  Mont. And cast one look on Montezuma’s fate.

  Cort. Speak not such dismal words as wound my ear;

  Nor name death to me, when Cydaria’s there.

  Despair not, sir; who knows but conquering Spain

  May part of what you lost restore again?

  Mont. No, Spaniard; know, he who, to empire born,


  Lives to be less, deserves the victor’s scorn:

  Kings and their crowns have but one destiny:

  Power is their life; when that expires, they die.

  Cyd. What dreadful words are these!

  Mont. Name life no more;

  ’Tis now a torture worse than all I bore;

  I’ll not be bribed to suffer life, but die,

  In spite of your mistaken clemency.

  I was your slave, and I was used like one;

  The shame continues when the pain is gone:

  But I’m a king while this is in my hand — [His sword.

  He wants no subjects, who can death command:

  You should have tied him up, t’have conquered me;

  But he’s still mine, and thus he sets me free.

  [Stabs himself.

  Cyd. Oh, my dear father!

  Alm. When that is forced, there yet remain two more. [The Soldiers break open the first door, and go in. We shall have time enough to take our way, Ere any can our fatal journey stay.

  Mont. Already mine is past: O powers divine,

  Take my last thanks: no longer I repine;

  I might have lived my own mishap to mourn,

  While some would pity me, but more would scorn!

  For pity only on fresh objects stays,

  But with the tedious sight of woes decays.

  Still less and less my boiling spirits flow;

  And I grow stiff, as cooling metals do.

  Farewell, Almeria. [Dies.

  Cyd. He’s gone, he’s gone, And leaves poor me defenceless here alone.

  Alm. You shall not long be so: Prepare to die, That you may bear your father company.

  Cyd. O name not death to me! you fright me so,

  That with the fear I shall prevent the blow:

  I know, your mercy’s more than to destroy

  A thing so young, so innocent as I.

  Cort. Whence can proceed thy cruel thirst of blood,

  Ah, barbarous woman? Woman! that’s too good,

  Too mild for thee: There’s pity in that name,

  But thou hast lost thy pity with thy shame.

  Alm. Your cruel words have pierced me to the heart;

  But on my rival I’ll revenge my smart.

  Cort. Oh stay your hand; and, to redeem my fault,

  I’ll speak the kindest words —

  That tongue e’er uttered, or that heart e’er thought.

  Dear — lovely — sweet —

  Alm. This but offends me more; You act your kindness on Cydaria’s score.

  Cyd. For his dear sake let me my life receive.

  Alm. Fool, for his sake alone you must not live: Revenge is now my joy; he’s not for me, And I’ll make sure he ne’er shall be for thee.

  Cyd. But what’s my crime?

  Alm. ’Tis loving where I love.

  Cyd. Your own example does my act approve.

  Alm. ’Tis such a fault I never can forgive.

  Cyd. How can I mend, unless you let me live? I yet am tender, young, and full of fear, And dare not die, but fain would tarry here.

  Cort. If blood you seek, I will my own resign: O spare her life, and in exchange take mine!

  Alm. The love you shew but hastes her death the more.

  Cort. I’ll run, and help to force the inner door. [Is going in haste.

  Alm. Stay, Spaniard, stay; depart not from my eyes: That moment that I lose your sight, she dies. To look on you, I’ll grant a short reprieve.

  Cort. O make your gift more full, and let her live! I dare not go; and yet how dare I stay! — Her I would save, I murder either way.

  Cyd. Can you be so hard-hearted to destroy

  My ripening hopes, that are so near to joy?

  I just approach to all I would possess:

  Death only stands ‘twixt me and happiness.

  Alm. Your father, with his life, has lost his throne: Your country’s freedom and renown is gone. Honour requires your death; you must obey.

  Cyd. Do you die first, and shew me then the way.

  Alm. Should you not follow, my revenge were lost.

  Cyd. Then rise again, and fright me with your ghost.

  Alm. I will not trust to that; since death I chuse,

  I’ll not leave you that life which I refuse:

  If death’s a pain, it is not less to me;

  And if ’tis nothing, ’tis no more to thee.

  But hark! the noise increases from behind;

  They’re near, and may prevent what I designed;

  Take there a rival’s gift. [Stabs her.

  Cort. Perdition seize thee for so black a deed.

  Alm. Blame not an act, which did from love proceed:

  I’ll thus revenge thee with this fatal blow;

  [Stabs herself.

  Stand fair, and let my heart-blood on thee flow.

  Cyd. Stay, life, and keep me in the cheerful light!

  Death is too black, and dwells in too much night.

  Thou leav’st me, life, but love supplies thy part,

  And keeps me warm, by lingering in my heart:

  Yet dying for him, I thy claim remove;

  How dear it costs to conquer in my love!

  Now strike: That thought, I hope, will arm my breast.

  Alm. Ah, with what differing passions am I prest!

  Cyd. Death, when far off, did terrible appear; But looks less dreadful as he comes more near.

  Alm. O rival, I have lost the power to kill;

  Strength hath forsook my arm, and rage my will:

  I must surmount that love which thou hast shown;

  Dying for him is due to me alone.

  Thy weakness shall not boast the victory,

  Now thou shalt live, and dead I’ll conquer thee:

  Soldiers, assist me down.

  [Exeunt from above, led by Soldiers, and enter both, led by CORTEZ.

  Cort. Is there no danger then? [To CYDARIA.

  Cyd. You need not fear My wound; I cannot die when you are near.

  Cort. You, for my sake, life to Cydaria give; [To ALM. And I could die for you, if you might live.

  Alm. Enough, I die content, now you are kind;

  Killed in my limbs, reviving in my mind:

  Come near, Cydaria, and forgive my crime.

  [CYDARIA starts back.

  You need not fear my rage a second time:

  I’ll bathe your wounds in tears for my offence.

  That hand, which made it, makes this recompence.

  [Ready to join their hands.

  I would have joined you, but my heart’s too high:

  You will, too soon, possess him when I die.

  Cort. She faints; O softly set her down.

  Alm. ’Tis past!

  In thy loved bosom let me breathe my last.

  Here, in this one short moment that I live,

  I have whate’er the longest life could give. [Dies.

  Cort. Farewell, thou generous maid: Even victory,

  Glad as it is, must lend some tears to thee;

  Many I dare not shed, lest you believe [To CYD.

  I joy in you less than for her I grieve.

  Cyd. But are you sure she’s dead?

  I must embrace you fast, before I know,

  Whether my life be yet secure, or no:

  Some other hour I will to tears allow,

  But, having you, can shew no sorrow now.

  Enter GUYOMAR and ALIBECH bound, with Soldiers.

  Cort. Prince Guyomar in bonds! O friendship’s shame! It makes me blush to own a victor’s name. [Unbinds him, CYDARIA, ALIBECH.

  Cyd. See, Alibech, Almeria lies there; But do not think ’twas I that murdered her.

  [ALIBECH kneels, and kisses her dead sister.

  Cort. Live, and enjoy more than your conqueror: [To GUYOMAR. Take all my love, and share in all my power.

  Guy. Think me not proudly rude, if I forsake

  Those gifts I cannot with my honour take:

 
I for my country fought, and would again,

  Had I yet left a country to maintain:

  But since the gods decreed it otherwise,

  I never will on its dear ruins rise.

  Alib. Of all your goodness leaves to our dispose,

  Our liberty’s the only gift we chuse:

  Absence alone can make our sorrows less;

  And not to see what we can ne’er redress.

  Guy. Northward, beyond the mountains, we will go,

  Where rocks lie covered with eternal snow,

  Thin herbage in the plains and fruitless fields,

  The sand no gold, the mine no silver yields:

  There love and freedom we’ll in peace enjoy;

  No Spaniards will that colony destroy.

  We to ourselves will all our wishes grant;

  And, nothing coveting, can nothing want.

  Cort. First your great father’s funeral pomp provide: That done, in peace your generous exiles guide; While I loud thanks pay to the powers above, Thus doubly blest, with conquest, and with love. [Exeunt.

  EPILOGUE

  BY A MERCURY.

  To all and singular in this full meeting,

  Ladies and gallants, Phoebus sends ye greeting.

  To all his sons, by whate’er title known,

  Whether of court, or coffee-house, or town;

  From his most mighty sons, whose confidence

  Is placed in lofty sound, and humble sense,

  Even to his little infants of the time,

  Who write new songs, and trust in tune and rhyme:

  Be’t known, that Phoebus (being daily grieved

  To see good plays condemned, and bad received)

  Ordains, your judgment upon every cause,

  Henceforth, be limited by wholesome laws.

  He first thinks fit no sonnetteer advance

  His censure, farther than the song or dance.

  Your wit burlesque may one step higher climb,

  And in his sphere may judge all doggrel rhyme:

  All proves, and moves, and loves, and honours too;

  All that appears high sense, and scarce is low.

  As for the coffee-wits, he says not much;

  Their proper business is to damn the Dutch:

  For the great dons of wit —

  Phoebus gives them full privilege alone,

  To damn all others, and cry up their own.

  Last, for the ladies, ’tis Apollo’s will,

  They should have power to save, but not to kill:

  For love and he long since have thought it fit,

  Wit live by beauty, beauty reign by wit.

  SECRET-LOVE

  OR, THE MAIDEN-QUEEN

  Vitiis nemo sine nascitur; optimus ille

  Qui minimis urgetur. HORAT.