John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  And our wise emperor might justly fear,

  Sebastian might be freed and reconciled,

  By new obligements, to thy former love.

  Dor. I doubt thee still: Thy reasons were too strong,

  And driven too near the head, to be but artifice:

  And, after all, I know thou art a statesman,

  Where truth is rarely found.

  Bend. Behold the emperor: —

  Enter Emperor, Sebastian, and Almeyda.

  Ask him, I beg thee, — to be justified, —

  If he employed me not to ford thy soul,

  And try the footing, whether false or firm.

  Dor. Death to my eyes, I see Sebastian with him!

  Must he be served? — Avoid him: If we meet,

  It must be like the crush of heaven and earth,

  To involve us both in ruin.[Exit.

  Bend. ’Twas a bare saving game I made with Dorax;

  But better so than lost. He cannot hurt me;

  That I precautioned: I must ruin him. —

  But now this love; ay, there’s the gathering storm!

  The tyrant must not wed Almeyda: No!

  That ruins all the fabric I am raising.

  Yet, seeming to approve, it gave me time;

  And gaining time gains all.[Aside.

  [Benducar goes and waits behind the Emperor. The Emperor, Sebastian, and Almeyda, advance to the front of the stage: Guards and Attendants.

  Emp. to Seb. I bade them serve you; and, if they obey not,

  I keep my lions keen within their dens,

  To stop their maws with disobedient slaves.

  Seb. If I had conquered,

  They could not have with more observance waited:

  Their eyes, hands, feet,

  Are all so quick, they seem to have but one motion,

  To catch my flying words. Only the alcayde

  Shuns me; and, with a grim civility,

  Bows, and declines my walks.

  Emp. A renegade:

  I know not more of him, but that he’s brave,

  And hates your Christian sect. If you can frame

  A farther wish, give wing to your desires,

  And name the thing you want.

  Seb. My liberty;

  For were even paradise itself my prison,

  Still I should long to leap the crystal walls.

  Emp. Sure our two souls have somewhere been acquainted

  In former beings; or, struck out together,

  One spark to Afric flew, and one to Portugal.

  Expect a quick deliverance: Here’s a third, [Turning to Almeyda.

  Of kindred sold to both: pity our stars

  Have made us foes! I should not wish her death.

  Alm. I ask no pity; if I thought my soul

  Of kin to thine, soon would I rend my heart-strings,

  And tear out that alliance; but thou, viper,

  Hast cancelled kindred, made a rent in nature,

  And through her holy bowels gnawed thy way,

  Through thy own blood, to empire.

  Emp. This again!

  And yet she lives, and only lives to upbraid me!

  Seb. What honour is there in a woman’s death!

  Wronged, as she says, but helpless to revenge;

  Strong in her passion, impotent of reason,

  Too weak to hurt, too fair to be destroyed.

  Mark her majestic fabric; she’s a temple

  Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine;

  Her souls the deity that lodges there;

  Nor is the pile unworthy of the god.

  Emp. She’s all that thou canst say, or I can think;

  But the perverseness of her clamourous tongue

  Strikes pity deaf.

  Seb. Then only hear her eyes!

  Though they are mute, they plead; nay, more, command;

  For beauteous eyes have arbitrary power.

  All females have prerogative of sex;

  The she’s even of the savage herd are safe;

  And when they snarl or bite, have no return

  But courtship from the male.

  Emp. Were she not she, and I not Muley-Moluch,

  She’s mistress of inevitable charms,

  For all but me; nor am I so exempt,

  But that — I know not what I was to say —

  But I am too obnoxious to my friends,

  And swayed by your advice.

  Seb. Sir, I advised not;

  By heaven, I never counselled love, but pity.

  Emp. By heaven thou didst; deny it not, thou didst:

  For what was all that prodigality

  Of praise, but to inflame me?

  Seb. Sir —

  Emp. No more;

  Thou hast convinced me that she’s worth my love.

  Seb. Was ever man so ruined by himself?[Aside.

  Alm. Thy love! That odious mouth was never framed

  To speak a word so soft:

  Name death again, for that thou canst pronounce

  With horrid grace, becoming of a tyrant.

  Love is for human hearts, and not for thine,

  Where the brute beast extinguishes the man.

  Emp. Such if I were, yet rugged lions love,

  And grapple, and compel their savage dames. —

  Mark my Sebastian, how that sullen frown,[She frowns.

  Like flashing lightning, opens angry heaven,

  And, while it kills, delights! — But yet, insult not

  Too soon, proud beauty! I confess no love.

  Seb. No, sir; I said so, and I witness for you,

  Not love, but noble pity, moved your mind:

  Interest might urge you too to save her life;

  For those, who wish her party lost, might murmur

  At shedding royal blood.

  Emp. Right, thou instruct’st me;

  Interest of state requires not death, but marriage,

  To unite the jarring titles of our line.

  Seb. Let me be dumb for ever; all I plead,[Aside.

  Like wildfire thrown against the winds, returns

  With double force to burn me.

  Emp. Could I but bend, to make my beauteous foe

  The partner of my throne, and of my bed —

  Alm. Still thou dissemblest; but, I read thy heart,

  And know the power of my own charms; thou lov’st,

  And I am pleased, for my revenge, thou dost.

  Emp. And thou hast cause.

  Alm. I have, for I have power to make thee wretched.

  Be sure I will, and yet despair of freedom.

  Emp. Well then, I love;

  And ’tis below my greatness to disown it;

  Love thee implacably, yet hate thee too;

  Would hunt thee barefoot, in the mid-day sun,

  Through the parched desarts and the scorching sands,

  To enjoy thy love, and, once enjoyed, to kill thee.

  Alm. ’Tis a false courage, when thou threaten’st me;

  Thou canst not stir a hand to touch my life:

  Do not I see thee tremble, while thou speak’st?

  Lay by the lion’s hide, vain conqueror,

  And take the distaff; for thy soul’s my slave.

  Emp. Confusion! How thou view’st my very heart!

  I could as soon

  Stop a spring-tide, blown in, with my bare hand,

  As this impetuous love: — Yes, I will wed thee;

  In spite of thee, and of myself, I will.

  Alm. For what? to people Africa with monsters,

  Which that unnatural mixture must produce?

  No, were we joined, even though it were in death,

  Our bodies burning in one funeral pile,

  The prodigy of Thebes would be renewed,

  And my divided flame should break from thine.

  Emp. Serpent, I will engender poison with thee;

  Join hate with hate, add venom to the birth:

  Our offspring
, like the seed of dragons’ teeth,

  Shall issue armed, and fight themselves to death.

  Alm. I’m calm again; thou canst not marry me.

  Emp. As gleams of sunshine soften storms to showers,

  So, if you smile, the loudness of my rage

  In gentle whispers shall return but this —

  That nothing can divert my love but death.

  Alm. See how thou art deceived; I am a Christian:

  ’Tis true, unpractised in my new belief,

  Wrongs I resent, nor pardon yet with ease;

  Those fruits come late, and are of slow increase

  In haughty hearts, like mine: Now, tell thyself

  If this one word destroy not thy designs:

  Thy law permits thee not to marry me.

  Emp. ’Tis but a specious tale, to blast my hopes,

  And baffle my pretensions. — Speak, Sebastian,

  And, as a king, speak true.

  Seb. Then, thus adjured,

  On a king’s word ’tis truth, but truth ill-timed;

  For her dear life is now exposed anew,

  Unless you wholly can put on divinity,

  And graciously forgive.

  Alm. Now learn, by this,

  The little value I have left for life,

  And trouble me no more.

  Emp. I thank thee, woman;

  Thou hast restored me to my native rage,

  And I will seize my happiness by force.

  Seb. Know, Muley Moluch, when thou darest attempt —

  Emp. Beware! I would not be provoked to use

  A conqueror’s right, and therefore charge thy silence.

  If thou wouldst merit to be thought my friend,

  I leave thee to persuade her to compliance:

  If not, there’s a new gust in ravishment,

  Which I have never tried.

  Bend. They must be watched;[Aside.

  For something I observed creates a doubt. [Exeunt Emp. and Bend.

  Seb. I’ve been too tame, have basely borne my wrongs,

  And not exerted all the king within me:

  I heard him, O sweet heavens! he threatened rape;

  Nay, insolently urged me to persuade thee,

  Even thee, thou idol of my soul and eyes,

  For whom I suffer life, and drag this being.

  Alm. You turn my prison to a paradise;

  But I have turned your empire to a prison:

  In all your wars good fortune flew before you;

  Sublime you sat in triumph on her wheel,

  Till in my fatal cause your sword was drawn;

  The weight of my misfortunes dragged you down.

  Seb. And is’t not strange, that heaven should bless my arms

  In common causes, and desert the best?

  Now in your greatest, last extremity,

  When I would aid you most, and most desire it,

  I bring but sighs, the succours of a slave.

  Alm. Leave then the luggage of your fate behind;

  To make your flight more easy leave Almeyda:

  Nor think me left a base, ignoble prey,

  Exposed to this inhuman tyrant’s lust;

  My virtue is a guard beyond my strength,

  And death, my last defence, within my call.

  Seb. Death may be called in vain, and cannot come;

  Tyrants can tie him up from your relief;

  Nor has a Christian privilege to die.

  Alas, thou art too young in thy new faith:

  Brutus and Cato might discharge their souls,

  And give them furloughs for another world;

  But we, like sentries, are obliged to stand

  In starless nights, and wait the appointed hour.

  Alm. If shunning ill be good

  To those, who cannot shun it but by death,

  Divines but peep on undiscovered worlds,

  And draw the distant landscape as they please;

  But who has e’er returned from those bright regions,

  To tell their manners, and relate their laws?

  I’ll venture landing on that happy shore

  With an unsullied body and white mind;

  If I have erred, some kind inhabitant

  Will pity a strayed soul, and take me home.

  Seb. Beware of death! thou canst not die unperjured,

  And leave an unaccomplished love behind.

  Thy vows are mine; nor will I quit my claim:

  The ties of minds are but imperfect bonds,

  Unless the bodies join to seal the contract.

  Alm. What joys can you possess, or can I give,

  Where groans of death succeed the sighs of love?

  Our Hymen has not on his saffron robe;

  But, muffled up in mourning, downward holds

  His drooping torch, extinguished with his tears.

  Seb. The God of Love stands ready to revive it,

  With his etherial breath.

  Alm. ’Tis late to join, when we must part so soon.

  Seb. Nay, rather let us haste it, ere we part;

  Our souls, for want of that acquaintance here,

  May wander in the starry walks above,

  And, forced on worse companions, miss ourselves.

  Alm. The tyrant will not long be absent hence;

  And soon I shall be ravished from your arms.

  Seb. Wilt thou thyself become the greater tyrant,

  And give not love, while thou hast love to give?

  In dangerous days, when riches are a crime,

  The wise betimes make over their estates:

  Make o’er thy honour, by a deed of trust,

  And give me seizure of the mighty wealth.

  Alm. What shall I do? O teach me to refuse!

  I would, — and yet I tremble at the grant;

  For dire presages fright my soul by day,

  And boding visions haunt my nightly dreams;

  Sometimes, methinks, I hear the groans of ghosts,

  Thin, hollow sounds, and lamentable screams;

  Then, like a dying echo, from afar,

  My mother’s voice, that cries, — Wed not, Almeyda!

  Forewarned, Almeyda, marriage is thy crime.

  Seb. Some envious demon to delude our joys;

  Love is not sin, but where ’tis sinful love.

  Alm. Mine is a flame so holy and so clear,

  That the white taper leaves no soot behind;

  No smoke of lust; but chaste as sisters’ love,

  When coldly they return a brother’s kiss,

  Without the zeal that meets at lovers’ mouths.

  Seb. Laugh then at fond presages. I had some; —

  Famed Nostradamus, when he took my horoscope,

  Foretold my father, I should wed with incest.

  Ere this unhappy war my mother died,

  And sisters I had none; — vain augury!

  A long religious life, a holy age,

  My stars assigned me too; — impossible!

  For how can incest suit with holiness,

  Or priestly orders with a princely state?

  Alm. Old venerable Alvarez — [Sighing.

  Seb. But why that sigh in naming that good man?

  Alm. Your father’s counsellor and confident —

  Seb. He was; and, if he lives, my second father.

  Alm. Marked our farewell, when, going to the fight,

  You gave Almeyda for the word of battle.

  ’Twas in that fatal moment, he discovered

  The love, that long we laboured to conceal.

  I know it; though my eyes stood full of tears,

  Yet through the mist I saw him stedfast gaze;

  Then knocked his aged breast, and inward groaned,

  Like some sad prophet, that foresaw the doom

  Of those whom best he loved, and could not save.

  Seb. It startles me! and brings to my remembrance,

  That, when the shock of battle was begun,

&nbs
p; He would have much complained (but had not time)

  Of our hid passion: then, with lifted hands,

  He begged me, by my father’s sacred soul,

  Not to espouse you, if he died in fight;

  For, if he lived, and we were conquerors,

  He had such things to urge against our marriage,

  As, now declared, would blunt my sword in battle,

  And dastardize my courage.

  Alm. My blood curdles,

  And cakes about my heart.

  Seb. I’ll breathe a sigh so warm into thy bosom,

  Shall make it flow again. My love, he knows not

  Thou art a Christian: that produced his fear,

  Lest thou shouldst sooth my soul with charms so strong,

  That heaven might prove too weak.

  Alm. There must be more:

  This could not blunt your sword.

  Seb. Yes, if I drew it, with a curst intent,

  To take a misbeliever to my bed:

  It must be so.

  Alm. Yet —

  Seb. No, thou shalt not plead,

  With that fair mouth, against the cause of love.

  Within this castle is a captive priest,

  My holy confessor, whose free access

  Not even the barbarous victors have refused;

  This hour his hands shall make us one.

  Alm. I go, with love and fortune, two blind guides,

  To lead my way, half loth, and half consenting.

  If, as my soul forebodes, some dire event

  Pursue this union, or some crime unknown,

  Forgive me, heaven! and, all ye blest above,

  Excuse the frailty of unbounded love![Exeunt.

  SCENE II. — Supposed a Garden, with lodging rooms behind it, or on the sides.

  Enter Mufti, Antonio as a slave, and Johayma the Mufti’s wife.

  Muf. And how do you like him? look upon him well; he is a personable fellow of a Christian dog. Now, I think you are fitted for a gardener. Ha, what sayest thou, Johayma?

  Joh. He may make a shift to sow lettuce, raise melons, and water a garden-plat; but otherwise, a very filthy fellow: how odiously he smells of his country garlick! fugh, how he stinks of Spain.

  Muf. Why honey bird, I bought him on purpose for thee: didst thou not say, thou longedst for a Christian slave?

  Joh. Ay, but the sight of that loathsome creature has almost cured me; and how can I tell that he is a christian? an he were well searched, he may prove a Jew, for aught I know. And, besides, I have always longed for an eunuch; for they say that’s a civil creature, and almost as harmless as yourself, husband. — Speak, fellow, are not you such a kind of peaceable thing?

  Ant. I was never taken for one in my own country; and not very peaceable neither, when I am well provoked.

  Muf. To your occupation, dog; bind up the jessamines in yonder arbour, and handle your pruning-knife with dexterity: tightly I say, go tightly to your business; you have cost me much, and must earn it in your work. Here’s plentiful provision for you, rascal; salading in the garden, and water in the tank, and on holidays the licking of a platter of rice, when you deserve it.