John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Plac. You have a pilot who your ship secures; The monarch both of earth and seas is yours; He, who so freely gives a crown away, Yet asks no tribute but what you may pay. One smile on him a greater wealth bestows, Than Egypt yields, when Nilus overflows.

  S. Cath. I cannot wholly innocent appear, Since I have lived such words as these to hear. O heaven, which dost of chastity take care —

  Plac. Why do you lose an unregarded prayer? If happiness, as you believe, be rest, That quiet sure is by the gods possest:— ’Tis greatness to neglect, or not to know, The little business of the world below.

  S. Cath. This doctrine well befitted him, who thought A casual world was from wild atoms wrought: But such an order in each chance we see, (Chained to its cause, as that to its decree,) That none can think a workmanship so rare Was built, or kept, without a workman’s care.

  To them Maximin, Attendants, and Guards.

  Max. Madam, you from Placidius may have heard Some news, which will your happiness regard; For what a greater happiness can be, Than to be courted and be loved by me? The Egyptian crown I to your hands remit; And, with it, take his heart, who offers it. [She turns aside.

  Do you my person and my gift contemn?

  S. Cath. My hopes pursue a brighter diadem.

  Max. Can any brighter than the Roman be? I find my proffered love has cheapen’d me: Since you neglect to answer my desires, Know, princess, you shall burn in other fires. —— Why should you urge me to so black a deed? Think all my anger did from love proceed.

  S. Cath. Nor threats nor promises my mind can move; Your furious anger, nor your impious love.

  Max. The love of you can never impious be; You are so pure —— That in the act ‘twould change the impiety. Heaven would unmake it sin! ——

  S. Cath. I take myself from that detested sight: To my respect thou hast no longer right: Such power in bonds true piety can have, That I command, and thou art but a slave. [Exit St Cath.

  Max. To what a height of arrogance she swells! Pride, or ill-nature, still with virtue dwells. Her death shall set me free this very hour; —— But is her death within a lover’s power? Wild with my rage, more wild with my desire, Like meeting tides — but mine are tides of fire. What petty promise was’t that caused this frown?

  Plac. You heard: No less than the Egyptian crown.

  Max. Throw Egypt’s by, and offer, in the stead, Offer —— the crown on Berenice’s head. I am resolved to double till I win; About it straight, and send Porphyrius in. [Exit Plac.

  We look like eagles towering in the sky; While her high flight still raises mine more high.

  To him Porphyrius.

  Por. I come, sir, to expect your great commands.

  Max. My happiness lies only in thy hands; And, since I have adopted thee my son, I’ll keep no secret from thy breast unknown. Led by the interest of my rising fate, I did espouse this empress, whom I hate; And, therefore, with less shame I may declare, That I the fetters of thy captive wear.

  Por. Sir, you amaze me with so strange a love.

  Max. Pity, my son, those flames you disapprove. The cause of love can never be assigned; ’Tis in no face, but in the lover’s mind.

  Por. Yet there are beauties which attract all hearts, And all mankind lies open to their darts; Whose sovereignty, without dispute, we grant; Such graces, sure, your empress does not want.

  Max. Beauty has bounds —— And can no more to every heart be so, Than any coin through every land can go. Some secret grace, which is but so to me, Though not so great, may yet more powerful be. All guard themselves when stronger foes invade;} Yet, by the weak, surprises may be made:} But you, my son, are not to judge, but aid.}

  Por. What is it, sir, you can require of me?

  Max. I would from Berenice’s bonds be free; This yoke of marriage from us both remove, Where two are bound to draw, though neither love.

  Por. Neither the gods nor man will give consent To put in practice your unjust intent.

  Max. Both must consent to that which I decree.

  Por. The soldiers love her brother’s memory; And for her sake some mutiny will stir.

  Max. Our parting, therefore, shall be sought by her. Go, bid her sue for a divorce, or die; I’ll cut the knot, if she will not untie: Haste to prepare her, and thyself return; Thy Hymen’s torch this day with mine shall burn. [Exit.

  Por. Rather my funeral-torch; for, though I know Valeria’s fair, and that she loves me too, ‘Gainst her my soul is armed on every part: Yet there are secret rivets to my heart, Where Berenice’s charms have found the way; Subtle as lightnings, but more fierce than they. How shall I this avoid, or gain that love! So near the rock, I to the port must move.

  To him Valeria attended.

  Val. Porphyrius, now my joy I may express, Nor longer hide the love I must possess. Should I have staid till marriage made us one, You might have thought it was by duty done; But of my heart I now a present make; And give it you, ere it be yours to take. Accept it as when early fruit we send; And let the rareness the small gift commend.

  Por. Great monarchs, like your father, often give What is above a subject to receive. But faithful officers should countermand And stop the gift, that passes through their hand; And to their prince that mass of wealth restore, Which, lavished thus, would make whole nations poor.

  Val. But to this gift a double right you have: My father gives but what before I gave.

  Por. In vain you such unequal presents make, Which I still want capacity to take. Such fatal bounty once the Gauls did show; They threw their rings, but threw their targets too. Bounty, so placed, does more like ruin look; You pour the ocean on a narrow brook.

  Val. Yet, if your love before prepares a boat, The stream so poured, drowns not, but makes it float.

  Por. But when the vessel is on quicksands cast, The flowing tide does more the sinking haste.

  Val. And on what quicksands can your heart be thrown? Can you a love besides Valeria’s own?

  Por. If he who at your feet his heart would lay, Be met with first, and robbed upon the way, You may indeed the robber’s strength accuse, But pardon him, who did the present lose.

  Val. Who is this thief, that does my right possess? Name her, and then we of her strength may guess. — From whence does your unwonted silence come?

  Por. She bound and gagged me, and has left me dumb.

  Val. But of my wrongs I will aloud complain. False man, thou wouldst excuse thyself in vain; For thee I did a maiden’s blush forsake; And owned a love thou hast refused to take.

  Por. Refused it! — like a miser, midst his store, Who grasps and grasps, till he can hold no more; And when his strength is wanting to his mind, Looks back, and sighs on what he left behind.

  Val. No, I resume that heart thou didst possess; My father shall my injuries redress: With me thou losest his imperial crown, And speedy death attends upon his frown.

  Por. You may revenge your wrongs a nobler way; Command my death, and I will soon obey.

  Val. No, live! for, on thy life my cure depends: In debtors’ deaths all obligation ends: ‘Twill be some ease ungrateful thee to call; And, bankrupt-like, say, trusting him lost all.

  Por. Upbraided thus, what generous man would live! But fortune will revenge what you forgive. When I refuse, (as in few hours I must) This offered grace, your father will be just.

  Val. Be just! say rather he will cruel prove, To kill that only person I can love. Yet so it is! —— Your interest in the army is so high, That he must make you his, or you must die. It is resolved! whoe’er my rival be, [Aside, after a pause.

  I’ll show that I deserve him more than she; And if, at last, he does ungrateful prove, My constancy itself rewards my love. [Exit.

  Por. She’s gone, and, gazing round about, I see Nothing but death, or glorious misery; Here empire stands, if I could love displace; There, hopeless love, with more imperial grace; Thus, as a sinking hero, compassed round. Beckons his bravest foe for his last wound, And him into his part of fame does ca
ll, I’ll turn my face to love, and there I’ll fall.

  To him Berenice, and Erotion.

  Ber. I come, Porphyrius, to congratulate This happy change of your exalted fate: You to the empire are, I hear, designed; And fair Valeria must the alliance bind.

  Por. Would heaven had my succession so decreed, That I in all might Maximin succeed! He offers me the imperial crown, ’tis true: I would succeed him, but it is in you.

  Ber. In me! I never did accept your love: But you, I see, would handsomely remove; And I can give you leave, without a frown: I always thought you merited a crown.

  Por. I never sought that crown but on your brow; But you with such indifference would allow My change, that you have killed me with that breath; I feel your scorn cold as the hand of death.

  Ber. You’ll come to life in your Valeria’s arms. ’Tis true, I cannot boast of equal charms; Or, if I could, I never did admit Your love to me, but only suffered it. I am a wife, and can make no return; And ‘twere but vain in hopeless fires to burn.

  Por. Unkind! can you, whom only I adore, Set open to your slave the prison-door? You use my heart just as you would afford A fatal freedom to some harmless bird, Whom, breeding, you ne’er taught to seek its food; And now let fly to perish in the wood.

  Ber. Then, if you will love on, and disobey, And lose an empire for my sake, you may. Will a kind look from me pay all this score, For you well know you must expect no more?

  Por. All I deserve it will, not all I wish: But I will brave the tyrant’s rage for this. If I refuse, my death must needs ensue; But you shall see that I dare die for you.

  Ber. Would you, for me, A beauty, and an empire too deny? I love you now so well — that you shall die. Die mine! ’tis all I can, with honour, give: Nor should you die, if after, I would live. But when your marriage and your death I view, That, makes you false, but this will keep you true.

  Por. Unbind thy brows, and look abroad to see, O mighty love, thy mightiest victory!

  Ber. And yet —— is there no other way to try? ’Tis hard to say I love, and let you die.

  Por. Yes, there remains some help which you might give, If you, as I would die for love, would live.

  Ber. If death for love be sweet, sure life is more: Teach me the means your safety to restore.

  Por. Your tyrant the Egyptian princess loves; And to that height his swelling passion moves, That, fearing in your death the soldiers’ force, He from your bed does study a divorce.

  Ber. The Egyptian princess I disputing heard, And as a miracle her mind regard. But yet I wish that this divorce be true. [Gives her hand.

  Por. ’Tis, madam, but it must be sought by you. By this he will all mutinies prevent; And this as well secures your own content.

  Ber. I hate this tyrant, and his bed I loath; But, once submitting, I am tied to both: Tied to that honour, which all women owe, Though not their husband’s person, yet their vow. Something so sacred in that bond there is, That none should think there could be aught amiss: And if there be, we should in silence hide Those faults, which blame our choice, when they are spied.

  Por. But, since to all the world his crimes are known. And by himself the civil war’s begun, Would you the advantage of the fight delay, If, striking first, you were to win the day?

  Ber. I would, like Jews upon their sabbath, fall; And, rather than strike first, not strike at all.

  Por. Against yourself you sadly prophecy: You either this divorce must seek, or die.

  Ber. Then death from all my griefs shall set me free.

  Por. And would you rather chuse your death, than me?

  Ber. My earthly part —— Which is my tyrant’s right, death will remove; I’ll come all soul and spirit to your love. With silent steps I’ll follow you all day, Or else before you, in the sun beams, play: I’ll lead you thence to melancholy groves, And there repeat the scenes of our past loves: At night, I will within your curtains peep; With empty arms embrace you while you sleep: In gentle dreams I often will be by, And sweep along before your closing eye: All dangers from your bed I will remove; But guard it most from any future love: And when, at last, in pity, you will die, I’ll watch your birth of immortality: Then, turtle-like, I’ll to my mate repair, And teach you your first flight in open air. [Exit Berenice and Eration.

  Por. She has but done what honour did require; Nor can I blame that love, which I admire. But then her death! I’ll stand betwixt, it first shall pierce my heart: We will be stuck together on his dart. But yet the danger not so high does grow: I’ll charge death first, perhaps repulse him too. But if, o’erpowered, I must be overcome, Forced back, I’ll fight each inch into my tomb. [Exit.

  ACT IV.

  SCENE I. — An Indian cave.

  Enter Placidius and Nigrinus. Nigrinus, with two drawn swords, held upward in his hands.

  Plac. All other means have failed to move her heart; Our last resource is, therefore, to your art.

  Nig. Of wars, and bloodshed, and of dire events, Of fates, and fighting kings, their instruments, I could with greater certainty foretell; Love only does in doubts and darkness dwell. For, like a wind, it in no quarter stays, But points and veers each hour a thousand ways. On women love depends, and they on will; Chance turns their orb, while destiny sits still.

  Plac. Leave nothing unattempted in your power: Remember you oblige an emperor.

  Nig. An earthy fiend by compact me obeys; But him to light intents I must not raise. Some astral forms I must invoke by prayer, Framed all of purest atoms of the air; Not in their natures simply good or ill; But most subservient to bad spirits’ will, Nakar of these does lead the mighty band, For eighty legions move at his command: Gentle to all, but, far above the rest, Mild Nakar loves his soft Damilcar best. In airy chariots they together ride, And sip the dew as through the clouds they glide: These are the spirits, which in love have power.

  Plac. Haste, and invoke them in a happy hour.

  Nig. And so it proves: For, counting seven from noon, ’Tis Venus’ hour, and in the waxing moon, With chalk I first describe a circle here, Where these etherial spirits must appear. Come in, come in; for here they will be strait: Around, around, the place I fumigate: My fumigation is to Venus just: The souls of roses, and red coral’s dust; A lump of Sperma Ceti; and to these The stalks and chips of Lignum Aloes; And, last, to make my fumigation good, ’Tis mixt with sparrows’ brains, and pigeons’ blood. [Nigrinus takes up the swords.

  They come, they come, they come! I hear them now.

  Plac. A death-like damp sits cold upon my brow, And misty vapours swim before my sight.

  Nig. They come not in a shape to cause your fright.

  Nakar and Damilcar descend in clouds, and sing,

  Nakar. Hark, my Damilcar, we are called below!

  Dam. Let us go, let us go! Go to relieve the care Of longing lovers in despair!

  Nakar. Merry, merry, merry, we sail from the east, Half tippled at a rainbow feast.

  Dam. In the bright moonshine while winds whistle loud, Tivy, tivy, tivy, we mount and we fly, All racking along in a downy white cloud: And lest our leap from the sky should prove too far, We slide on the back of a new-falling star.

  Nakar. And drop from above In a jelly of love!

  Dam. But now the sun’s down, and the element’s red, The spirits of fire against us make head!

  Nakar. They muster, they muster, like gnats in the air: Alas! I must leave thee, my fair; And to my light horse-men repair.

  Dam. O stay, for you need not to fear them to-night; The wind is for us, and blows full in their sight: And o’er the wide ocean we fight! Like leaves in the autumn our foes will fall down; And hiss in the water.

  Both. And hiss in the water, and drown!

  Nakar. But their men lie securely intrenched in a cloud, And a trumpeter-hornet to battle sounds loud.

  Dam. Now mortals that spy How we tilt in the sky, With wonder will gaze; And fear such events as will ne’er come to pass.

  Nakar. Stay you to perform what the men will
have done.

  Dam. Then call me again when the battle is won.

  Both. So ready and quick is a spirit of air To pity the lover, and succour the fair, That, silent and swift, the little soft god Is here with a wish, and is gone with a nod. [The clouds part, Nakar flies up, and Damilcar down.

  Nig. I charge thee, spirit, stay; and by the power [To Damilcar.

  Of Nakar’s love, and of this holy wand, On the north quarter of my circle stand, (Seven foot around for my defence I take.) To all my questions faithful answers make! So mayest thou live thy thousand years in peace, And see thy airy progeny increase: So mayest thou still continue young and fair, Fed by the blast of pure ætherial air, And, thy full term expired, without all pain, Dissolve into thy astral source again.

  Dam. Name not my hated rival Gemory, And I’ll speak true whate’er thy questions be.

  Nig. Thy rival’s hated name I will refrain: Speak, shall the emperor his love obtain?

  Dam. Few hours shall pass before your emperor shall be Possessed of that he loves, or from that love be free.

  Plac. Shall I enjoy that beauty I adore?

  Dam. She, suppliant-like, ere long, thy succour shall implore: And thou with her thou lovest in happiness may’st live, If she not dies before, who all thy joys can give.

  Nig. Say, what does the Egyptian princess now?

  Dam. A gentle slumber sits upon her brow.

  Nig. Go, stand before her in a golden dream: Set all the pleasures of the world to shew, And in vain joys let her loose spirit flow.

  Dam. Twice fifty tents remove her from your sight, But I’ll cut through them all with rays of light; And covering other objects to your eyes, Shew where entranced in silent sleep she lies.

  Damilcar stamps, and the bed arises with St Catharine in it.

  Damilcar singing.

  You pleasing dreams of love and sweet delight, Appear before this slumbering virgins sight: Soft visions set her free From mournful piety. Let her sad thoughts from heaven retire; And let the melancholy love Of those remoter joys above Give place to your more sprightly fire. Let purling streams be in her fancy seen; And flowery meads, and vales of chearful green: And in the midst of deathless groves Soft sighing wishes lie, And smiling hopes fast by, And just beyond them ever-laughing loves.