John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Curse on me, but she smiles!

  Lyndar. That smile’s a part of love, and all’s your due:

  I take it from the prince, and give it you.

  Abdelm. Just heaven, must my poor heart your May-game prove,

  To bandy, and make children’s play in love? [Half crying.

  Ah! how have I this cruelty deserved?

  I, who so truly and so long have served!

  And left so easily! oh cruel maid!

  So easily! it was too unkindly said.

  That heart, which could so easily remove,

  Was never fixed, nor rooted deep in love.

  Lyndar. You lodged it so uneasy in your breast,

  I thought you had been weary of the guest.

  First, I was treated like a stranger there;

  But, when a household friend I did appear,

  You thought, it seems, I could not live elsewhere.

  Then, by degrees, your feigned respect withdrew;

  You marked my actions, and my guardian grew.

  But I am not concerned your acts to blame:

  My heart to yours but upon liking came;

  And, like a bird, whom prying boys molest,

  Stays not to breed, where she had built her nest.

  Abdelm. I have done ill,

  And dare not ask you to be less displeased;

  Be but more angry, and my pain is eased.

  Lyndar. If I should be so kind a fool, to take

  This little satisfaction which you make,

  I know you would presume some other time

  Upon my goodness, and repeat your crime.

  Abdelm. Oh never, never, upon no pretence;

  My life’s too short to expiate this offence.

  Lyndar. No, now I think on’t, ’tis in vain to try;

  ’Tis in your nature, and past remedy.

  You’ll still disquiet my too loving heart:

  Now we are friends ’tis best for both to part. [He takes her hand.

  Abdelm. By this — Will you not give me leave to swear?

  Lyndar. You would be perjured if you should, I fear:

  And, when I talk with Prince Abdalla next,

  I with your fond suspicions shall be vext.

  Abdelm. I cannot say I’ll conquer jealousy,

  But, if you’ll freely pardon me, I’ll try.

  Lyndar. And, till you that submissive servant prove,

  I never can conclude you truly love.

  To them, the King, Almahide, Abenamar, Esperanza, Guards, Attendants.

  Boab. Approach, my Almahide, my charming fair,

  Blessing of peace, and recompence of war.

  This night is yours; and may your life still be

  The same in joy, though not solemnity.

  THE ZAMBRA DANCE.

  SONG.

  I.

  Beneath a myrtle shade,

  Which love for none, but happy lovers made,

  I slept; and straight my love before me brought

  Phyllis, the object of my waking thought.

  Undressed she came my flames to meet,

  While love strewed flowers beneath her feet;

  Flowers which, so pressed by her, became more sweet.

  II.

  From the bright vision’s head

  A careless veil of lawn was loosely spread:

  From her white temples fell her shaded hair

  Like cloudy sunshine, not too brown nor fair;

  Her hands, her lips, did love inspire;

  Her every grace my heart did fire:

  But most her eyes, which languished with desire.

  III.

  Ah, charming fair, said I,

  How long can you my bliss and yours deny?

  By nature and by love, this lonely shade

  Was for revenge of suffering lovers made.

  Silence and shades with love agree;

  Both shelter you and favour me:

  You cannot blush, because I cannot see.

  IV.

  No, let me die, she said,

  Rather than lose the spotless name of maid! —

  Faintly, methought, she spoke; for all the while

  She bid me not believe her, with a smile.

  Then die, said I: She still denied;

  And is it thus, thus, thus, she cried,

  You use a harmless maid? — and so she died!

  V.

  I waked, and straight I knew,

  I loved so well, it made my dream prove true:

  Fancy, the kinder mistress of the two,

  Fancy had done what Phyllis would not do!

  Ah, cruel nymph, cease your disdain,

  While, I can dream you scorn in vain, —

  Asleep or waking you must ease my pain.

  [After the dance, a tumultuous noise of drums and trumpets.

  To them Ozmyn; his sword drawn.

  Ozm. Arm, quickly arm; yet all, I fear, too late;

  The enemy’s already at the gate.

  Boab. The Christians are dislodged; what foe is near?

  Ozm. The Zegrys are in arms, and almost here:

  The streets with torches shine, with shoutings ring,

  And Prince Abdalla is proclaimed the king.

  What man could do, I have already done,

  But bold Almanzor fiercely leads them on.

  Aben. The Alhambra yet is safe in my command; [To the King.

  Retreat you thither, while their shock we stand.

  Boab. I cannot meanly for my life provide;

  I’ll either perish in’t, or stem this tide.

  To guard the palace, Ozmyn, be your care:

  If they o’ercome, no sword will hurt the fair.

  Ozm. I’ll either die; or I’ll make good the place.

  Abdelm. And I with these will bold Almanzor face. [Exeunt all but the Ladies. An alarum within.

  Almah. What dismal planet did my triumphs light!

  Discord the day, and death does rule the night:

  The noise my soul does through my senses wound.

  Lyndar. Methinks it is a noble, sprightly sound,

  The trumpet’s clangor, and the clash of arms!

  This noise may chill your blood, but mine it warms. [Shouting and clashing of swords within.

  We have already passed the Rubicon;

  The dice are mine; now, fortune, for a throne! [A shout within, and clashing of swords afar off.

  The sound goes farther off, and faintly dies;

  Curse of this going back, these ebbing cries!

  Ye winds, waft hither sounds more strong and quick;

  Beat faster, drums, and mingle deaths more thick.

  I’ll to the turrets of the palace go,

  And add new fire to those that fight below:

  Thence, hero-like, with torches by my side,

  (Far be the omen, though) my love will guide.

  No; like his better fortune I’ll appear,

  With open arms, loose veil, and flowing hair,

  Just flying forward from my rolling sphere:

  My smiles shall make Abdalla more than man;

  Let him look up, and perish if he can. [Exit.

  An alarum nearer: Then Enter Almanzor and Selin, at the head of the Zegrys; Ozmyn Prisoner.

  Almanz. We have not fought enough; they fly too soon;

  And I am grieved the noble sport is done.

  This only man, of all whom chance did bring [Pointing to Ozmyn.

  To meet my arms, was worth the conquering.

  His brave resistance did my fortune grace;

  So slow, so threatning forward he gave place.

  His chains be easy, and his usage fair.

  Selin. I beg you would commit him to my care.

  Almanz. Next, the brave Spaniard free without delay;

  And with a convoy send him safe away. [Exit a Guard.

  To them Hamet and others.

  Hamet. The king by me salutes you; and, to show

  That to your valour he his crown do
es owe,

  Would from your mouth I should the word receive,

  And that to these you would your orders give.

  Almanz. He much o’er-rates the little I have done. [Almanzor goes to the door, and there seems to give out orders, by sending people several ways.

  Selin to Ozmyn. Now, to revenge the murder of my son,

  To morrow for thy certain death prepare;

  This night I only leave thee to despair.

  Ozmyn. Thy idle menaces I do not fear:

  My business was to die or conquer here.

  Sister, for you I grieve I could no more:

  My present state betrays my want of power;

  But, when true courage is of force bereft,

  Patience, the only fortitude, is left. [Exit with Selin.

  Almah. Ah, Esperanza, what for me remains

  But death, or, worse than death, inglorious chains!

  Esper. Madam, you must not to despair give place;

  Heaven never meant misfortune to that face.

  Suppose there were no justice in your cause,

  Beauty’s a bribe that gives her judges laws.

  That you are brought to this deplored estate,

  Is but the ingenious flattery of your fate;

  Fate fears her succour, like an alms, to give;

  And would you, God-like, from yourself should live.

  Almah. Mark but how terribly his eyes appear!

  And yet there’s something roughly noble there,

  Which, in unfashioned nature, looks divine,

  And, like a gem, does in the quarry shine. [Almanzor returns; she falls at his feet, being veiled.

  Almah. Turn, mighty conqueror, turn your face this way,

  Do not refuse to hear the wretched pray!

  Almanz. What business can this woman have with me?

  Almah. That of the afflicted to the Deity.

  So may your arms success in battle find;

  So may the mistress of your vows be kind,

  If you have any; or, if you have none,

  So may your liberty be still your own!

  Almanz. Yes, I will turn my face, but not my mind:

  You bane and soft destruction of mankind,

  What would you have with me?

  Almah. I beg the grace [Unveiling.

  You would lay by those terrors of your face.

  Till calmness to your eyes you first restore,

  I am afraid, and I can beg no more.

  Almanz. [Looking fixedly on her.]

  Well; my fierce visage shall not murder you.

  Speak quickly, woman; I have much to do.

  Almah. Where should I find the heart to speak one word?

  Your voice, sir, is as killing as your sword.

  As you have left the lightning of your eye,

  So would you please to lay your thunder by.

  Almanz. I’m pleased and pained, since first her eyes I saw,

  As I were stung with some tarantula.

  Arms, and the dusty field, I less admire,

  And soften strangely in some new desire;

  Honour burns in me not so fiercely bright,

  But pale as fires when mastered by the light:

  Even while I speak and look, I change yet more,

  And now am nothing that I was before.

  I’m numbed, and fixed, and scarce my eye-balls move:

  I fear it is the lethargy of love!

  ’Tis he; I feel him now in every part:

  Like a new lord he vaunts about my heart;

  Surveys, in state, each corner of my breast,

  While poor fierce I, that was, am dispossessed.

  I’m bound; but I will rouse my rage again;

  And, though no hope of liberty remain,

  I’ll fright my keeper when I shake my chain.

  You are — [Angrily.

  Almah. I know I am your captive, sir.

  Almanz. You are — You shall — And I can scarce forbear —

  Almah. Alas!

  Almanz. ’Tis all in vain; it will not do: [Aside.

  I cannot now a seeming anger show:

  My tongue against my heart no aid affords;

  For love still rises up, and choaks my words.

  Almah. In half this time a tempest would be still.

  Almanz. ’Tis you have raised that tempest in my will.

  I wonnot love you; give me back my heart;

  But give it, as you had it, fierce and brave.

  It was not made to be a woman’s slave,

  But, lion-like, has been in desarts bred,

  And, used to range, will ne’er be tamely led.

  Restore its freedom to my fettered will,

  And then I shall have power to use you ill.

  Almah. My sad condition may your pity move;

  But look not on me with the eyes of love: —

  I must be brief, though I have much to say.

  Almanz. No, speak; for I can hear you now all day.

  Her sueing sooths me with a secret pride: [Softly.

  A suppliant beauty cannot be denied: [Aside.

  Even while I frown, her charms the furrows seize;

  And I’m corrupted with the power to please.

  Almah. Though in your worth no cause of fear I see,

  I fear the insolence of victory;

  As you are noble, sir, protect me then

  From the rude outrage of insulting men.

  Almanz. Who dares touch her I love? I’m all o’er love:

  Nay, I am love; love shot, and shot so fast,

  He shot himself into my breast at last.

  Almah. You see before you her, who should be queen,

  Since she is promised to Boabdelin.

  Almanz. Are you beloved by him? O wretched fate,

  First that I love at all; then, loved too late!

  Yet, I must love!

  Almah. Alas, it is in vain;

  Fate for each other did not us ordain.

  The chances of this day too clearly show

  That heaven took care that it should not be so.

  Almanz. Would heaven had quite forgot me this one day!

  But fate’s yet hot —

  I’ll make it take a bent another way. [He walks swiftly and discomposedly, studying.

  I bring a claim which does his right remove;

  You’re his by promise, but you’re mine by love.

  ’Tis all but ceremony which is past;

  The knot’s to tie which is to make you fast.

  Fate gave not to Boabdelin that power;

  He wooed you but as my ambassador.

  Almah. Our souls are tied by holy vows above.

  Almanz. He signed but his: but I will seal my love.

  I love you better, with more zeal than he.

  Almah. This day

  I gave my faith to him, he his to me.

  Almanz. Good heaven, thy book of fate before me lay,

  But to tear out the journal of this day:

  Or, if the order of the world below

  Will not the gap of one whole day allow,

  Give me that minute when she made her vow!

  That minute, ev’n the happy from their bliss might give;

  And those, who live in grief, a shorter time would live.

  So small a link, if broke, the eternal chain

  Would, like divided waters, join again. —

  It wonnot be; the fugitive is gone,

  Prest by the crowd of following minutes on:

  That precious moment’s out of nature fled,

  And in the heap of common rubbish laid,

  Of things that once have been, and are decayed.

  Almah. Your passion, like a fright, suspends my pain;

  It meets, o’erpowers, and beats mine back again:

  But as, when tides against the current flow,

  The native stream runs its own course below,

  So, though your griefs possess the upper part,

  My own have deeper ch
annels in my heart.

  Almanz. Forgive that fury which my soul does move;

  ’Tis the essay of an untaught first love:

  Yet rude, unfashioned truth it does express;

  ’Tis love just peeping in a hasty dress.

  Retire, fair creature, to your needful rest;

  There’s something noble labouring in my breast:

  This raging fire, which through the mass does move,

  Shall purge my dross, and shall refine my love. [Exeunt Almahide and Esperanza.

  She goes, and I like my own ghost appear;

  It is not living when she is not here.

  To him Abdalla as King, attended.

  Abdal. My first acknowledgments to heaven are due;

  My next, Almanzor, let me pay to you.

  Almanz. A poor surprise, and on a naked foe,

  Whatever you confess, is all you owe;

  And I no merit own, or understand

  That fortune did you justice by my hand:

  Yet, if you will that little service pay

  With a great favour, I can shew the way.

  Abdal. I have a favour to demand of you;

  That is, to take the thing for which you sue.

  Almanz. Then, briefly, thus: when I the Albayzyn won,

  I found the beauteous Almahide alone,

  Whose sad condition did my pity move;

  And that compassion did produce my love.

  Abdal. This needs no suit; in justice, I declare.

  She is your captive by the right of war.

  Almanz. She is no captive then; I set her free;

  And, rather than I will her jailor be,

  I’ll nobly lose her in her liberty.

  Abdal. Your generosity I much approve;

  But your excess of that shows want of love.

  Almanz. No, ’tis the excess of love which mounts so high,

  That, seen far off, it lessens to the eye.

  Had I not loved her, and had set her free,

  That, sir, had been my generosity;

  But ’tis exalted passion, when I show

  I dare be wretched, not to make her so:

  And, while another passion fills her breast,

  I’ll be all wretched rather than half blest.

  Abdal. May your heroic act so prosperous be,

  That Almahide may sigh you set her free.

  Enter Zulema.

  Zul. Of five tall towers which fortify this town,

  All but the Alhambra your dominion own:

  Now, therefore, boldly I confess a flame,

  Which is excused in Almahide’s name.

  If you the merit of this night regard,

  In her possession I have my reward.

  Almanz. She your reward! why, she’s a gift so great,

  That I myself have not deserved her yet;

  And therefore, though I won her with my sword,

  I have, with awe, my sacrilege restored.