ALAHAM  

THE SPEAKERS NAMES.  
The old King.  
Alaham's second Son.  
Cain Bassha.  
Priest.  
Nuntius.  
Zophi the eldest Son.  
Hala Alaham's wife.  
Mahomet Bassha.  
Caelica the old king's daughter.  
Nutrix.    

prologus.  
The speech of a Ghost, one of the old Kings of Ormus.  

how Monster horrible! under whose ugly doom,  
Down in Eternity's perpetual night,  
Man's temporal sins bear torments infinite:  
For change of desolation, must I come  
To tempt the earth, and to profane the light;  
From mournful silence, where pain dares not roar  
With liberty; to multiply it more,  
Nor from the loathsome puddle Acheron,  
Made foul with common sins, whose filthy damps  
Feed Lethe's sink, forgetting all but moan:  
Nor from that foul infernal shadowed Lamp,  
Which lighteth Sisyphus to roll his stone:  
These be but bodies plagues, the skirts of hell;  
I come from whence deaths seat doth death excel.  
A place there is upon no centre placed,  
Deep under depths, as far as is the sky  
Above the earth; dark, infinitely spaced:  
Pluto the King, the Kingdom, misery.  
The Crystal may God's glorious seat resemble;  
Horror itself these horrors but dissemble.   

Privation would reign there, by God not made;  
But creature of uncreated sin,  
Whose being is all beings to invade,  
To have no ending though it did begin:  
And so of past, things present, and to come,  
To give depriving, not tormenting doom,  
But horror, in the understanding mixed;  
And memory, by Eternity's seal wrought;  
Unto the bodies of the evil fixed,  
And into reason by our passion brought,  
Here racked, torn, and exiled from unity;  
Though come from nothing, must for ever be.   

The sins that enter here are capital:  
Atheism, where creatures their Creator lose;  
Unthankful Pride, nature, and graces fall;  
Mate of Mankind, in Man unnatural;  
Hypocrites, which bodies leave, and shadows chose.  
The persons, either Kings by fortune blessed,  
Or men by nature made Kings of the rest.  
Here Tyrants that corrupt authority,  
Counselled out of the fears of wickedness,  
Cunning in mischief, proud in cruelty,  
Are furies made, to plague the weaker ghosts,  
Whose souls, enticing pleasure only lost.  
The weaker Kings, whose more unconstant vice  
Their States unto their humours made a prey;  
For suffering more than Kings to tyrannize,  
Are damned; though here to be, yet not to stay:  
For back they go, to tempt with every sin,  
As easiest it the world may enter in.   

myself sometimes was such; Ormus my state.  
I bore the name; yet did my Basha's reign:  
Trusts to few windows are unfortunate;  
For Subjects growing full is PRINCE's wane.  
lo; all misdeeds procure their own misfate;  
For by my trusted Basshas was I slain:  
Now sent to tear down my posterity,  
That have their sins inheritance from me.   

My first charge is, the ruin of mine own,  
Hell keeping knowledge still of earthliness,  
None coming there but spirits overgrown,  
And more embodied into wickedness:  
The body by the spirit living ever;  
The spirit in the body joying never:  
In heaven perchance no such affections be;  
Those Angel-souls in flesh imprisoned,  
Like strangers living in Mortality,  
Still more, and more, themselves enspirited,  
Refining Nature to Eternity;  
By being maids in earth's adulterous bed:  
And idly forget all here below,  
Where we our parents, but to plague them, know.   

My next charge is, from this dark Regiment  
With wiles to scourge this age effeminate;  
Not open force, or humours violent:  
Time fashions minds, minds manners, manner's fate.  
Here rage gives place, wit must rule ill intent.  
Proud honour being an ill for this State  
Too strong; sleight, must mislead the innocent;  
Craft, the corrupt. For though none dare be just,  
Yet coward ill, with care, grow wicked must.   

This present King, weak both in good, and ill;  
Loving his trust, and trusting but his guess,  
Shall perish in his own faith's wantonness;  
Betrayed by Alaham, whom he knoweth ill,  
Yet to beware lacks active constantness,  
A destiny of well-believing wit,  
That hath not strength of judgement joined with it.   

Alaham his son; fond of the father's Throne,  
Desire his idol; liberty his might,  
As overborne with error infinite,  
Shall find that fate all secret faults can hit:  
For he, that for himself would ruin all,  
Shall perish in his craft unnatural.   

Hala his wife; divers, and strong in lust,  
Liberal out of self-love, of error proud;  
When shameless craft, and rage have served her turn,  
In pride's vainglorious martyrdom shall burn.   

Zophi the eldest Son; whose reason is  
With frailty drowned, and silliness confused;  
Borne but to live, and yet denied this,  
(So well knows power what spirits may be abused)  
Becomes the prey of factious crafty wit,  
Which stirs that ruin up, which ruins it.   

Cain Bassha (like the clouds, who live in air,  
Th'orb of natures constant inconstancy)  
Now fame, now shame shall in his fortune bear;  
His vice, and virtue still in infancy:  
Change for his wisdom; and chance for his ends;  
Harmed by his hopes, and ruined by his friends.   

Mahomet, with honour fain would change the tide  
Of times corrupt; here stopping violence,  
There contermining craft, and pleading right;  
But reason sworn in general to sense  
Makes honour, bondage; justice, an offence:  
Till liberty, that fair deceiving light,  
Turns mischief to an humour popular,  
Where good men catched in nets of duty are.   

Caelica (because in flesh no seeds are sown  
Of heavenly grace, but they must bring up weeds)  
Death in her father's murder she affects,  
Seduced by glory; whose excess still feeds  
itself, upon the barren steeps of moan.  
For humane wit wants power to divide,  
Whereby affections into error slide.   

Heli the priest; who teaching from without,  
Corrupted faith, bound under laws of might;  
Not feeling God, yet blowing him about,  
In every shape, and likeness, but the right;  
Seeking the world; finds change there joined with chance,  
To ruin those whom error would advance.   

Now mark your charge! Each fury work his part,  
In senseless webs of mischief overthwart.  
You are not now to work on private thoughts,  
One instant is your time to alter all;  
Corruption universal must be wrought:  
Impossible to you is natural.  
Plots, and effects together must be brought;  
Mischief, and shame, at once must spring, and fall.  
Use more than power of man to bring forth that,  
Which (it is meant) all men shall wonder at.   

Craft! Go thou forth, work honour into lust.  
Malice! Sow in self-love unworthiness.  
Fear! Make it safe for no man to be just.  
Wrong! Be thou clothed in powers comeliness.  
Wit! Play with faith; take glory in mistrust;  
Let duty, and Religion go by guess.  
Furies! Stir you up war; which follow must,  
When all things are corrupt with doubleness.  
From vice to vice let error multiply.  
With uncouth sins, murders, adulteries,  
Incorporate all kinds of iniquity.  
Translate the State to foreign Tyrannies.  
Keep down the best, and let the worst have power,  
That war, and hell may all at once devour.    


Actus I. Scena I.  
ALAHAM, HELI.  ALaham. 

Thou coward soul! Why standst thou doubting now?  
Why to, and fro? The dice of chance are cast:  
Counsels of law, of shame, of love, are passed.  
Think what the worst have done; what they enjoy,  
That pluck down States to put up private laws,  
Whom fame ennobles while she would destroy.  
Honour hath many wings: Chance hath no books:  
Who follow, tread but where men trod before;  
Who give example still are something more.   

Bear witness yet ye good, and evil spirits!  
Who in the air invisibly do dwell;  
That these strange paths I walk of ugliness,  
Are forced by threatning gulfs of treachery,  
Nourished by States, and Times injurious.  
Nor is it sin, which men for safety choose;  
Nor hath it shame, which men are forced to use.   Heli. 

What be these agonies indefinite?  
These sudden changes, secret, violent,  
Both argue evil luck, and ill intent.   Alah. 

That which I most did hate, and least did fear,  
Is fallen: Nature cares not for native blood.  
I wickedly must do, or mischief bear;  
I must no more be, or no more be good.   Heli. 

How grows this change? Reveal this secret work:  
Both cures, and wounds do oft together lurk.   Alah. 

Heli! you know the time when this frail King,  
Languished, and wantoned in a powerful throne,  
Sent to the gods to learn what should befall,  
Having but peace; and wealth to doubt withal.  
Their answer was: My father's eldest son  
Must be a sacrifice for this Estate,  
And with his blood wash out the doom of fate.  
The Basshas, swollen by use of ruling Kings,  
Presume on God: and what by God's decree  
Was death; by theirs must only exile be.  
And proud again with this unjust success,  
A second error on the first they build;  
And he that lives against the heavenly doom,  
Must now not live, but reign: yet only reign,  
To put down me they fear, for him they scorn.  
Is innocency to no other borne?  
And must my right, and Royal blood abide  
Traitors, to be my Lords; the dead, my King?  
Is honour to so many masters tied?  
Shall I not live, except I scorned live?  
Well: where the choice is left to kill, or die;  
The best Estates do but in hazard lie.   Heli. 

'tis rashness to commit our right to chance.   Alaham. 

'tis madness at the worst to fear mischance.   Heli. 

Unfold this factious cloudy mystery;  
What cannot help, yet will experience be.   Alaham. 

The days be fresh, when all the world in hate  
With Mahomet's supreme authority,  
The Basshas idly lived; no form of State  
Observed; no Counsels held; no Majesty;  
Weak spirits did corrupt; the strong did cast;  
Worth withered up; craft only was in trust;  
The Court a farm; strange, ominous, ill sign,  
When public States to privateness incline.  
Such was my father's frail simplicity,  
As wanting judgement how to stand alone;  
He (passion-led) could love, and trust but one.  
The world saw all was nought; yet I saw fear  
Would, while it murmured, mischief's counsels keep;  
So blind are men, or with respects asleep.  
Envy wrought more in me, and made me know,  
This passion in the King (which did advance  
Mahomet above the reach of overthrow)  
Had counter-passions, change, inconstancy,  
For wit, and malice, possibility.  
I stirred the King with envies of his slave;  
For great Estates enlarge not little hearts.  
My charge suspicious, which no answer have;  
Power still concluding all in evil part.  
With Kings not strong in virtue, nor in vice,  
I knew truth was like pillars built on ice.  
Factions beside I in the Basshas moved,  
And in their diverse wits my malice cast,  
Conspiracy with good success I proved:  
For Kings are easily led away with many,  
That hearing all, want strength to judge of any,  
Thus we exiled him with pretence of State,  
Whom (it is true) I for myself did hate.  
But now, when Mahomet was banished hence,  
His fellow Bässha's, fond of Government,  
To rule their Prince with his name they intend,  
And ruin heirs, yet seem successions friends.  
For while I by my brother's exile stood,  
They hide their minds to undermine the more;  
And much to me in pity things they leave,  
That craft in good apparel might deceive.   Heli. 

Their craft, and power against you thus combined  
How could you shun? or work the Basshas so,  
As they might leave to seek your overthrow?   Alaham. 

I found their craft, and made my good of all.  
Some I did win, the rest I did disgrace,  
Even binding them by what they gave to me:  
So great the scopes of brave ambition be.  
Nor stayed I here; but as a man in doubt  
To trust this tickle art of men too far,  
Where many wits to one kept subject are:  
I forthwith sought on fewer heads to lay  
This wardship of the King effeminate.  
A far less servile course for me, that meant  
To steal in change into this Government.  
This made me think of Cain, whose spirits I saw  
Officious were, already entered grace,  
Pleasant, and fit to multiply a place.  
The scruple that divided him, and me,  
Was fear he did too much possess my wife:  
With private scorn I weighed with public ends;  
And saw, who will not see, needs no amends.  
For he, to hide his fault, straight puts on faith,  
And care of me; a badge of servile lust,  
Which ever injure those it pleaseth most.  
In him I did accept the sacrifice  
Of ruling him, that ruled this waving mass:  
Who cannot bear, what can he bring to pass?  
Now though by him the present state I gained,  
Yet to my after-ends this gave no aid:  
For their foundations only were, by fame,  
On people's loves, and wonders to be laid.  
How little princes' favours help the same  
They know, that mark what feet men go withal,  
Who while they rise in grace, in credit fall.  
The people than it was that I must seek,  
A future, not a present use of power;  
Not strength established, but a strength to change;  
To all, but only those who work it, strange.  
With this Cain's place had no Affinity;  
It presage being of a kingdom's fall,  
When Kings trust any one to govern all.  
His nature less, for it Monarchal was,  
Sharp, narrow-humored, only fit to rise  
By that, which people hate, Crown-flatteries.  
Since nature therefore cannot change her face,  
To think one fit, for all were foolishness,  
To force an instrument experience fears,  
Since wit may take of each the fruit it bears.   

Of Mahomet I then bethought myself,  
Whose absence pity had. And as in sects,  
The present errors do prepare a place  
For masked change, to show her pleasing face:  
So did the hate of present Government  
Forget his faults, as they forget their wounds.  
I saw that he alone did fit my ends;  
Occasion mother is of truest friends.  
My ends were not to broil the present State,  
Nor leave obedience in my father's days;  
But after he was dead, to dispossess  
My brother, whom the heavens did depress.  
Chance wrought me good: lest it should work me fear,  
I meant to go beyond the ways of spite,  
Both stay, and win the world with Mahomet:  
For who can stir are fittest means to let.  
My father I did move, removed, and sped,  
Fear made him pitiful, and folly kind,  
In passion's Orb most patient to be led;  
Each argument begat another mind;  
Doubt had no memory, offence was dead,  
Distress seemed safety, likeliness did bind:  
For in these captive wits, borne to be thrall,  
Who sees one thought beyond them, seeth all.   

Mahomet returns: But whether deeply shrined,  
Within the hollow abstracts of his heart,  
His malice lay; or that ambitious kind  
Be easy, for itself, from all to part;  
Respect to me, and honour, laid behind;  
Finding this King to be but humour's art,  
He takes his soul, and miracles he shows;  
Restores the lost, th' established overthrows.  
My elder brother, whom the Gods forespoke  
Laws had deprived, exiled, and men forgot,  
He straight calls home; and dares to undertake  
That which audacity believeth not.  
Ah! Error of good meaning, apt to trust,  
For want of ill enough, I perish must.  
And am I borne for duties sacrifice,  
To watch for change of times, or God's revenge?  
Is patience scorn, and hazard yet unwise?  
No, No: Confusion reigns; despair is it,  
That now makes chance a God; and danger, wit.  
Inflamed, distract, confused, put out of fear  
I am.   

Visions I feel of better hopes arise.  
Malice, and rage, whose heats had barrenness,  
Are, with ambition of revenge, made wise.  
Birth, chance, occasion, right, good fortunes be  
To some: and wrong can all these be to me?   Heli. 

Alaham! I grant these trials be severe:  
But know; temptation is misfortune's spy,  
To work in resolution change, or fear:  
Attend your father's death; still hold you there;  
Before to undermine a Monarchy  
Is hard. Besides, judge you your own intent:  
For such your brother is in this to you,  
As you before unto your brother were;  
He hath his own, and you live out of fear.   Alaham. 

Who measures hopes, and losses by the truth,  
Goes ever naked in this world of might:  
Mine be the Crown: my brothers be the right.   Heli. 

Will you exceed his mischief whom you blame?   Alah. 

When evil strives, the worst have greatest name.   Heli. 

Goodness is only at the greatest best.   Alaham. 

Those mischiefs prosper that exceed the rest.   Heli. 

Thou art but one: for all a sufferer be.   Alaham. 

That one is more than all the world to me.   Heli. 

Faults to the State all private faults exceed.   Alaham. 

My wounds then heal, when all the earth doth bleed.   Heli. 

Let father move thee: Pity thou the State.   Alaham. 

Father descending kindness signifies:  
Our State is there, where our well-being lies.   Heli. 

Fame ever lives, and ever will defame:  
The ruin of thy father; and his Crown.   Alaham. 

They ever prosper whom the world doth blame;  
Shame sees not climbing up, but falling down.   Heli. 

Yet fear thyself, if fame thou dost not fear;  
Revenge falls heavy, when God doth forbear.   Alaham. 

Men only giddy be that be above,  
And will look down to doubts, when they be there.  
Shall name of King o'erthrow a king's Estate?  
Hath public good no friend? Shall private fear  
Of one weak man make all unfortunate?  
No, No, dear Heli! I God's Champion am;  
And will my father for a while depose,  
Lest he the Kingdom, we the Church do lose.   Heli. 

Alaham! If hands you on your father lay  
For private ends, and make the Church your stairs,  
By which you climb your own ambitious way;  
Your glory will be short, and full of fears:  
Since nothing for the Church is done amiss;  
And nothing well done that against her is.   Alaham. 

So be the God eternal my belief;  
As I my father from his State depose,  
Only for fear the Church should honour lose.  
But Heli! Judge not things with common eyes;  
The Church it is one link of Government,  
Of noblest Kings the noblest instrument.  
For while Kings sacred keep her mysteries,  
She keeps the world to Kings obedient;  
Giving the body to obey the spirit,  
So carrying power up to infinite.  
But here with us, the discipline is stained;  
Form lost; truth scandalised with novelty;  
Lovingness with craft; and faith with Atheism.  
Honour, and zeal, with curiosity;  
The worst best used; shame carrying honour's face,  
And Innovation king in every place.  
Down must these ruins to be set upright;  
Misfortune pieced grows more unfortunate;  
And parents' Laws must yield to Laws of State.   Heli. 

Then see the means: For though the end were good,  
Yet for a private man to change a State,  
With monarch's sleights to alter Monarchy,  
Seems hard, if not impossible, to me.   Alaham. 

Impossible is but the faith of fear;  
To make hope easy fetch belief elsewhere.  
Yet lest these sparks raked up in hollow hearts,  
Should spread, and burn before their fury show;  
Keep on the course which you have used to go.  
Preach you with fiery tongue, distinguish might,  
Tyrants from Kings; duties in question bring  
Twixt God, and man; where power infinite  
Compared, makes finite power a scornful thing.  
Safely so craft may with the truth give light,  
To judge of Crowns without enameling;  
And bring contempt upon the monarch's State;  
Where straight unhallowed power hath people's hate.  
Glance at Prerogatives indefinite,  
Tax customs, wars, and Laws all gathering;  
Censure Kings faults, their spies, and favourites;  
Holiness hath a privilege to sting.  
Men be not wise; bitterness from zeal of spirit,  
Is hardly judged; the envy of a King  
Makes people like reproof of Majesty;  
Where God seems great in priest's audacity.  
Thus keep a good: For be he true, or no,  
Mixed faith so works on man's idolatry,  
That minds, in bonds; bodies, delight in woe.  
Religion carrying men above respect:  
For what thing else can stand in self neglect?  
And when men's minds thus tuned, and tempted are  
To change, with arguments 'gainst present times,  
Then hope awakes, and man's ambition climbs.   Heli. 

What hope can blot the fear of PRINCE's power?   Alaham. 

Taxes, and scorns of Basha's government,  
Which under Kings make present times still sour;  
Hope leads the ill, and they the innocent.   Heli. 

These hopes are poor: For fear is with them mixed.   Alaham. 

All fears are weak, where any hope is fixed.   Heli. 

Dissolve ('tis true) you may with envy, fear,  
Craft, treachery, contempt, neglect;  
Not build: these sands will no foundation bear:  
These engines are to ruin, not erect.  
Will you a father, can you a King throw down?   Alaham. 

Or suffer that the Christians wear his Crown   Heli. 

The Christians with what faith, or policy,  
Can you call in? Such remedies are ill:  
For what they conquer, that enjoy they will.  
Besides, the force lies in Cain Basha's hands,  
In Mahomet wealth, law, and government:  
What way to them?   Alaham. 

My wife, their mutual trust.  
These Basshas with themselves she shall betray;  
Arts of revenge are written down in lust.  
What cannot women do with wit, and play?   Heli. 

Who would bestow his wife in works of shame?   Alaham. 

They that think aught more dear than honest name.  
Good fortune doth in humours market sit,  
And those that buy, must sell all else for it.   Heli. 

The shame is sure; the good in hazard lies.   Alaham. 

Such stairs they climb, that unto fortune rise.  
Opinion reigns without, and truth within:  
Who others please, against themselves must sin. Exit Heli.   

You spirits then grown subtle by your age!  
Not you that do inhabit Paradise,  
Whose constant joys most unacquainted be  
With all affections, that should make you wise!  
No: I invoke that black eternity,  
As apt to put in action, as device!  
Help me, that have to do with Princes power,  
To pluck down King, with king's authority;  
And make men slaves, with show of liberty.  
Free hope from evil luck, revenge from fear;  
Ruin, and change adorn you everywhere.    

Actus Primus: Scena secunda.  
MAHOMET: ALAHAM.  Mahomet. 

MY Lord! So oft alone, pulls down the heart  
To thoughts, and courses far unmeet for it.  
Princes must show themselves in open sight;  
Men joy in them that do in men delight.  
Triumphs of common peace, sacrifice, thanks, praise,  
Prepared are,  
To solemnize this universal joy,  
Wherein yourself the greatest part enjoy.   Alaham. 

If change were currant in Eternity,  
As here amongst us in this mortal sphere,  
Passion might hope for counterpassion there.  
My brother's doom decreed was from above:  
Truth varies not: Gods pleasure constant is:  
Time present shows not all that is amiss.   Mahomet. 

joy opens minds, and envy shuts them in:  
God, by your brother's life, adjourns our sin.   Alah. 

When God speaks unto men, and they expound,  
Truth easily scapes, all threatened woes seem light;  
Misprision ever gives misfortune might:  
For power is proud till it look down to fear,  
Though only safe, by ever looking there.  
Besides; if fates be past, what means this star,  
Whose glorious tail threatens unglorious days,  
Fear unto Kings, and to the State a war?  
What mean these bloody showers? These darkened rays  
Of Sun, and Moon, which still eclipsed are?  
Are all signs chance? For if the stars can work,  
These signs that threaten prove their bodies lurk.  
What added is in honour to the Crown,  
Or what increase of Empire to the King;  
That exiles are called home to put me down?  
Strange innovation some increase should bring.  
Kings fondly else tempt God, and trust to chance,  
Where change, and hazard nothing do advance.   Mahomet. 

Your brother's fault was only PRINCE's fear;  
One ill example hurts to many were.   Alaham. 

God's law it was, whereby he was deprived;  
My elder brother's right, was but the law.  
Change in Estates is like unto a steep,  
Which, but itself, can nothing constant keep.   Mahomet. 

It is no chance to give the elder place.   Alah. 

The wounds are new that present right deface.   Mah. 

The second borne are not borne to the Crown.   Alah. 

Hope, which our God sets up, dare man pull down?   Mahomet. 

Alaham! Our God's decree did not exile  
Thy brother: It was heavenly mystery,  
Which faction construed to impiety.  
When I returned, I saw foundations laid  
In PRINCE's faults, for Basha's tyranny;  
Who keeping both the PRINCE's heirs alive,  
The one exiled, the other envious,  
Would make each plague to other; both, to us.  
I wrought, and overcame the PRINCE's hate,  
Restored his son, and in his son the State.   Alaham. 

And wast thou then called into grace by me,  
To be the mean that I should ruined be?  
No Mahomet: That Labyrinth thy heart,  
Artisan of craft, great Empire of deceit,  
The plague of all inferiors, and the bait;  
In PRINCE's frailty shall not drown this State.  
Sense and thy wrongs alike be general;  
A PRINCE's power cannot protect them all.  
When flattery gives scope to tyrannize,  
Extremes then from extremities do rise.   Mahomet. 

The giddy head that sees with dazzled sight,  
Imagines all the world to turn about:  
And rage, which to yourself makes you seem great,  
Is less to me, than if you did entreat.   Alaham. 

Who truth do only but to hate it know,  
They nothing fear, but only to be good:  
Unthankfulness is ever valiant so.   Mahomet. 

To them God thankless seems, not thankless is,  
That sacrifice for leave to do amiss.  
If wrongfully you had not banished me;  
To whom could my return thankworthy be?   Alaham. 

Our gods seemed wroth; and fame spoke strangely ill.  
That sure my Wife did worse than dote of thee;  
This was dishonour, wrong, and loss to me.  
Yet I distract with good belief and fear,  
Detest her could not; love forbade it me:  
Love her I did not, for mistrust was there;  
While I suspected her, I hated thee.  
At length ('t is true) I got thee banished;  
If not revenge, at least security:  
Till humorous Time, that blots to print again,  
Showed me in Hala's thoughts Cain Bassha's name.  
I called thee home; and though I scorn still bear  
By fame, who when she lies, recanteth not,  
Yet I forgave the shame, and pardoned fear;  
Brought thee good luck, where good turns are forgot.  
And is it a return of that you owe,  
For you to work your Patroness overthrow?   Mahomet. 

Alaham! Put off this fruitless peevishness  
Of expectation, lost in ill desires.  
For you, in witness of my thankful heart,  
The Government of old Ormus I got;  
And by possession man's hope loseth not.   

Alaham! Besides, judge both your thoughts, and State:  
Kings children are no Kings; Authority  
Goes not by blood; she sets another rate:  
Use, is her kin; Grace, her affinity.  
Then look not on desires earnestness;  
Impossible is easy there, wishes effect,  
The future great, the present ever less:  
Comparison still carrying up the eye  
To make all that we have but misery.  
Care, bought with blood; and fear, with treachery;  
Danger, with wrong; and shame, with venturing;  
Uncertain hopes, and certain misery,  
The fortunes be of haste to be a King.   Alaham. 

O God! what's this? Mine inward spirits shake;  
Senses do leave their work; thoughts are confused;  
Horror and glory now possession take;  
New visions to my darkness are infused:  
Like Delpho's maid, I find a mighty work;  
My heart with more than itself doth resolve;  
What I think, speak, or do, is not mine own.  
I feel what made me wish my brother's fall,  
And find what mischief gets, it goes withal.  
His safety now, I see, my safety is;  
And honour you, that have procured this.   Mahomet. 

A blessed work, if it be wrought within.   Alaham. 

It is no work: it is a heavenly bliss,  
Which perfect be, as soon as they begin.  
Spite! (thou Impostume of aspiring hearts,  
Whose nature is, that if the bag remain,  
The wicked humours straight will fill again)  
I will lay open thee, and all thy arts:  
It is no shame to say we were amiss,  
Since man doth take his name of that he is.  
Thy life is sought: Nay more, thy death is sworn.   Mahomet. 

By whom?   Alah. 

By them that hate, because they love.  
And either's kindness do in mischief prove.   Mahomet. 

What is my fault?   Alah. 

That thou of fault are free.   Mahomet. 

What his reward?   Alah. 

Their love that malice thee.   Mahomet. 

Where lies my hope?   Alah. 

To kill, or to be killed.   Mahomet. 

A wicked choice, where mischief is the best.  
Is their delight in shedding guiltless blood?   Alaham. 

What moves the wicked else to hate the good?   Mahomet. 

Who be the men?   Alah. 

I to myself am free;  
But faith forbids to tell what others be.   Mahomet. 

Disperse these clouds: Secrecy is evils friend;  
Neutrality hath never noble end.  
Tell me their names, that I my foes may know,  
And you, with honour, from ill friendship go.   Alaham. 

I witness take of these light-bearing stars,  
Wherein the dooms are laid of man's desires;  
No lack of hope, or power, to conceal;  
Remorse alone doth them, and me reveal.  
My wife hath compassed Cain so cunningly  
As he hath sworn you, by his hand, shall die.   Mahomet. 

Uncredible it is to think men never change;  
To think they alter easily, is as strange.  
Upon what grounds should this strange malice move?   Alaham. 

Upon what grounds do men begin to love?   Mahomet. 

What moved Cain?   Alah. 

That which I may not see:  
For they love well that do in hate agree.   Mah. 

Are truth and friendship but ambitious traps,  
To feed desire with all that she can get?  
Are words, and good turns but hearts counterfeit?   Alaham. 

When enemies bid enemies take heed,  
They trust not them, and yet they will beware;  
For disadvantage grows of little care.  
Resolve to die; or else resolve to fear.   Mahomet. 

Good Angels still protect the innocent:  
Hell would have all, if harm were ill intent.   Alah. 

Mischief still hides herself from them she hits  
In hopes, and fears of unresolving wits.   Mahomet. 

I well know Cain: his nature to excess  
Of good, or ill, is forced by industry:  
In others' spite lies his impiety.  
Appease your wife: for that must lie in you.   Alaham. 

Call up the dead; for that is less to do.  
A woman's hate is ever dipped in blood,  
And doth exile all counsels that be good.   Mahomet. 

Reason and truth shall plead to her for me.   Alaham. 

The eyes of rage itself do only see:  
And truth serves unto rage, but for a glass  
To deck herself in, and bring spite to pass.  
Reason to rage is like hands to a sore,  
Whose often stroking makes the anguish more.   Mahomet. 

Impossible all counsel doth refuse.   Alaham. 

Let Cain be killed: and then my wife accuse.   Mahomet. 

My heart shall first take counsel with my fate:  
If it foretell the worst, it teacheth feat;  
If it divines no ill, how can it hate?  
If what shall fall it feels not; I must bear.  
The time grows on: The King (I know) makes haste  
To sacrifice to God: For common joys  
Are made much dearer by the sorrows past.   

CHORUS primus, Of good Spirits.  

WE that are made to guard good men, and bind the ill,  
See both miscarried here below, against our power, and will.  
As if the earth, and hers, were to the worst left free,  
And we made subject, by their curse, to death's black Colony.  
Yet is our Maker strong, and we his first Creation,  
Whereas the state of that dark Choir is merely our privation.  
Whence doth this odds then grow, which seems to master all;  
Since we are more than nature is, they much less, by their fall?  
Are we not diligent, or is the good not wise?  
Shows Truth less glorious in the earth, than her ill picture Lies?  
Then Audit us in gross; at lest we equal be:  
And if in minute's men seek out true inequality,  
Compare words with the life, Eternity with time,  
Insulting pride with humble love, pure innocence with crime:  
And if these in their natures equally be weighed,  
The one lives ever building up, what others have decayed.  
So that to make and mar, is our true difference;  
To mar, expressing finite power; to make, omnipotence.  
The object then it is, from whence this odds doth grow,  
By which the ill o'erweighs the good in every thing below.  
And what is that but Man? A crazed soul, unfixed;  
Made good, yet fallen, not to extremes, but to a mean betwixt:  
Where (like a cloud) with winds he tossed is here, and there,  
We kindling good hope in his flesh; they quenching it with fear.  
We with our abstract forms, and substance bodiless,  
Image by glances into him our glories, their distress.  
And in prospective Maps make ill far off appear,  
Lest it should work with too great power, when it approacheth near.  
Beauties again of Truth (which those ill spirits conceal)  
With Optic glasses we reflect on man to kindle zeal.  
But whether idle man, exceeding orders frame,  
(As out of heaven justly cast) must Vulcan-like go lame;  
Or that those evil spirits so dazzle humane eyes,  
As they think foul forbidden things more beautiful, more wise;  
we see, though they want power to change our real frame,  
Yet in the world they strive to gain, by changing of our name:  
Calling the Goodness, weak; Patience, a lack of sense,  
Or seeming not to feel, because it dares make no defence.  
True Piety in Man, which upward doth appeal,  
They do deride, as argument of little strength, much zeal.  
And as the painter's art, by deeping colours there,  
Here slighting o'er, and finely casting shadows everywhere,  
Makes from a flat, a face show off, as if embossed;  
In which the form, not matter, is the sum of all his cost:  
So take these Fairies from, or add unto our mean,  
With arts fine casting shadows, till they seem to change us clean;  
And make a picture which they covet should excel;  
And which yet, to be like, must lose the life of doing well.  
This image is their wit, and so their Deity,  
Which though not keeping one shape long, in all would worshipped be.  
In precept, doctrine, rite, and discipline agreed,  
That, but prosperity on earth, there is no living Creed:   

Out of which fatal guide Alaham now undertakes  
The ruin of his King, and father, for ambition's sake;  
Against the laws of Nations, power, and native blood;  
As if the uttermost of ill a Sceptre could make good.  
But mark how Vice still makes example her own fate;  
For with like mischief Hala shakes both him, and his Estate.  
He in his father's bowels seeks an earthly Throne;  
Whence she supplants his heirs again with bastards of her own.  
He makes wrong triumph over right, and innocence;  
She makes her lust religions lord, confusion her defence.  
Thus, as that Tyrant who cut off the Statues head,  
Which bore the name of jupiter Olympian christened;  
Even by this scornful act to what was God in name,  
Taught people to encroach upon the sacred Monarch-frame:  
So while the o'reswoll'n pride of this Mahometan,  
By wounding of his Princely race, plays false with God and man;  
He in it doth disperse those clouds of reverence,  
Which between man, and monarch's Seat keep sweet intelligence;  
And while he would be lord of order, nature, right,  
Brings in disorder, that devouring enemy of might,  
Which with her many hands unweaves what time had wrought,  
And proves, what power obtains by wrong, is ever dearly bought.  
So that our grief and joy is in this Tragedy,  
To see the ill, amongst her own, act unprosperity;  
The corn fall to the ground, the chaff in sieves remain,  
Which of the corn was once, and yet cannot be corn again.  
But as their ancient mates the sudden-kindled Winds,  
Broken out of the watery clouds, wherein they were enshrined;  
Afflict the sturdy Oak, are heavy to the Reed;  
And equally spend out themselues with good or evil speed:  
So of these windy spirits, which wander in the air,  
By their malignity to blast, both what is foul, and fair;  
Whether they prosper do, or fail in their intent,  
Their ugliness disclosed is, their violence is spent:  
While we uphold the world, and were we all but one,  
By Legions of those Angels cursed, could not be overthrown'd.  
Yet among stories, as the Authors win no praise,  
Which truly write; but they who time with flatteries do please:  
So in man's muddy soul, the mean doth not content,  
Nor equally the two extremes; but that which fits his bent.  
This makes some sore, and burn; some stoop, and wet their wings;  
And some again commit excess, even in indifferent things.  
For who maintains one vice to multiply another,  
Incestuously begets more heirs upon his own first mother.  
And in Venerean acts, as Concubine, and wife,  
Only express that difference which pictures do from life;  
The act being all in one, and but the same in all,  
Save that the bondage of the vice delighteth to enthrall:  
So in man's choice, suppose this ends indifferent:  
The good, and ill, like equal ways; yet will the worst content.      


Actus secundus: Scena prima.  
HALA alone.  HALA. 

I will no more smother confusedly  
This inward war, where modesty and shame  
Would subject sense to duties Tyranny:  
Wronged with doubt I live; a wife to lust,  
A stranger both to honour, love, and trust.  
My friends despised, my servants made my spies;  
No way, but by betraying me, to rise.  
Is this the only right of womanhood?  
Then know base Men, in whom all love is lost,  
That wit moves wit; power, fear; fear, hate;  
No farther bondage hath a wife's estate.  
While Mahomet, that faithless hypocrite,  
Canker of love, All-ill in one, that man  
Showed love to me;  
Alaham was wroth, an husband's honour touched,  
He vile, I worse: the eyes of jealousy  
Seeing her own disease in him, and me.  
But since this wretch, with his aspiring craft,  
To Alaham hath falsely sold my shame,  
My injuries and dishonours are his fame:  
And shall this traffic of ambition thrive,  
And bury us in modesty alive?  
No Cain: For thy example I resolve  
To study spite, and practise cruelty:  
Scorn else will grow their sport, our falls their fame,  
That glory to deceive, and joy in shame.   

But what means this? Alaham hasts to the Crown;  
He tries, moves, breaks all that will not be bowed;  
Those only stand which help his father down.  
Wife is a private name: Ambitions ways  
Lie not within the bounds of love, but use:  
When things are ripe, I must be overthrown.  
And shall I lose myself in idle lust?  
Each Vassal is as great as Queens in it.  
Princes have strength, they err for Empire must.  
What fear I then? eme that is great, is good:  
Hazard all men behold with reverent eyes;  
And must we only in remorse be wise?  
No, no: My heart, and State do more embrace:  
Purple shall hide my lust, a Crown my shame:  
Passion with passions hath such unity,  
As one must ever be another's frame.  
Beyond the truth I am in loving Cain:  
The monuments of lust are secrecy,  
Suspicion, shame, remorse, adversity,  
If Cain be King; the ways to that are change,  
Wrong, hazard, care, ruin, confusion, blood;  
Poor thoughts, that fear, or rest, have never good.   

My party's strong: I build upon the vice,  
Question the yoke of Princes, husband, law;  
My good success breaks all the links of awe.  
Then Chance! be thou my friend: Desire! my guide.  
My heart extended is to great attempts,  
Which, if they speed, eternize shall my fame;  
If not, 'tis glory to excel in shame.   

lo where my Husband comes! Now reason must  
Disguise these passions, lest I lose my end;  
Who hides his mind is to himself a friend.    

Actus secundus: Scena secunda.  
Hala, Alaham.  HAla. 

King of myself! Redeemer of our fame!  
What secret clouds do overcast your heart?  
Counsel, and time do both work one effect,  
And either cure, or clear what we suspect.   Alah. 

My wounds can have no cure; my fears have cast  
Nature, and truth into afflictions moulds;  
The works of time, and counsel both are past.  
When hearts once from themselves are run astray,  
Chance must their guide be, violence their way.   Hala. 

Chance is not cast in moulds, like other Arts,  
Her counsels but the hope of rashness be;  
Advice did never any man betray:  
If truth be lucky, counsel is the way.   Alaham. 

If counsel be the guide of undertaking,  
Our powers best with our own wits do agree,  
Where both the means, and ends together be.   Hala. 

Who trusts his passion multiplies his care;  
All pains within, all cures without us are.   Alaham. 

If you captived be I speak withal,  
Then from my passion into yours I fall.   Hala. 

My state of mind, good will, and homage is;  
My being, reverence; my end, your will;  
self-love itself pays tribute unto this.   Alah. 

If love have power to leave, and break her vow;  
How can I trust to that you promise now?  
If love change not; how can I trust, and know,  
That you love Mahomet, my overthrow?   Hala. 

His place deserved respect, his virtue praise;  
Our freedom, not inhibited by you,  
Found many things indifferent to do.   Alaham. 

Forbidding is the prison of the thought,  
A violence which on themselves they draw,  
That inwardly of nothing stand in awe.  
But mark the end: he first despiseth thee,  
Then triumphs in thy once forsaken love;  
Proclaims deceit to be thy state of mind,  
Uncompatible, unpossible to find.  
So as if I should rule this glorious Throne,  
You ruling me (as he assumes you do)  
The State and I at once were overthrown.   Hala. 

Good nature then (I see) is not the art,  
With which a woman's honour safe may go  
Through hollow seas of man's dissembling heart.  
His faithlesness yet doth this good to me,  
That I may freely hate all men, but thee.   Alaham. 

Hate is the band of fury in the heart,  
Without revenge, no more but sense of smart.   Hala. 

Hate is the print of injury violent,  
Only in ruin, and revenge content.   Alaham. 

Revenges, in your sex, dishonour be;  
And in your strength, impossibility.  
Impatience only doth with God make war.   Hala. 

Fury finds arms; wrong hath ill destiny;  
While God is, it is baseness to despair:  
For right more credit hath than power there.   Alaham. 

Yet God, and kings use wisdom in their might,  
Reward, and grace do from their own hands part;  
They others use for instruments of spite.   Hala. 

Whom can we use? Since he we hate is great,  
And we disgraced: Who hazard will his State  
With him, that for his own good must entreat?   Alaham. 

Aspirers are not void of rival hate:  
If any envy him, or love our right,  
Revenge lies there; their lives desire Art.   Hala. 

Of God I ask it; and in men will move,  
As much as can be wrought with hope, or love.  
But men uncertain are, blown here, and there,  
With love, remorse, fears which in frailty live;  
Who need forgiveness, easily do forgive.  
The heart which feels, most lively can express  
Revenge, that picture of his guiltiness.   Alaham. 

Ruin, the power (not art) of Princes is:  
Cain is engaged as deep as we in this.   Hala. 

The wounds are mine; to me belongs revenge;  
Sense my adviser is; you Sir, my end:  
What needs a woman's passion more to friend?   Alaham. 

Mischief! now claim thy due. Malice! fear not,  
To offer all thy sleights to wicked wits;  
Ruin lights not amiss where ere it hits.  
My engines work, care is already past;  
My hopes arise out of these Basha's blood:  
If both, my wish; if either die, my good.   

Hala! Good fortunes are together linked;  
Thy faith stirs up new light within my mind:  
Behold, the Throne descends to take me up.  
Antiquity, in her unenvied womb,  
Now offers us the fatal precedent  
Of sixteen Kings, my Predecessors, all  
Blinded, and then deposed by Basha's hand:  
So tickely unworthiness doth stand.   

Doth wit, and courage only rest in slaves?  
Hath hazard aught more horrible than scorn?  
Have I occasions sure, and shall I stay  
To give all, but my misery, away?   

No Hala, No: Thy dowry shall be fame;  
Thy style, a Crown; thy prospect, reverence:  
The East shall do thee honour in my name.  
Out shall my fathers, and my brother's eyes;  
Authority is only for the wise.   

But since these mighty works have many parts,  
And I but one, which one cannot do all;  
I'll send thee Cain: keep firm upon your strengths.  
Beauty, and honour, nature's Sceptres be,  
And have on men's desires authority.   Exit. Hala. 

Now Hala, seek thy sex; lend scorn thy wit,  
To work new patterns of Revenges in.  
Let rage despise to feed on private blood;  
Her honour lies above, where danger is,  
In Thrones of Kings, in universal woe.  
Work that which Alaham may envy at,  
And men wish theirs, that Ill itself may tremble.  
Monstrous, incredible, too great for words.  
Keep close, and add to fury with restraint;  
Do not break forth until thou breakest all.   

Is Wrong so proud? Shall Man once dare to fashion  
A Woman's ruin, in a woman's passion?  
Husband! most odious name: scorn of subjection.  
Is love to women but your rage of thoughts?  
Are your desires let blood by your enjoying? Ah fools!  
We see your lusts relent, you see not ours;  
And from that change advantage hath her powers.  
But on: Still use thy craft: Thy strength lies there.  
Ignorance, that sometimes makes the hypocrite,  
Wants never mischief; though it oft want fear:  
For while thou thinkst faith made to answer wit,  
Observe the justice that doth follow it.   

Cain, Mahomet, and me thou hat'st alike,  
For unlike cause, and crafty ways dost take,  
That each may ruined be for others sake.  
Shall I, for thee, hazard Cain's life I love?  
And weigh down my affection with my hate?  
Can highest thoughts have any thing above?   

Ah! but perchance my safety in the blood  
Of Mahomet doth rest, the good of Cain:  
Then were it loss to make occasion vain.   

And shall I look but only to be safe?  
Can Injury and Malice add no more?  
Ah coward sex! faint, shallow Passion  
Far from me be: A work that no age dares  
Allow, yet none conceal, I must attempt.  
Fury! then spur thyself, embedlam wit;  
Poison my thoughts, to make my reason see  
Pleasure in cruelty, Glory, in spite:  
Rage to exceed examples doth delight.   

Thoughts! do you blush? To Alaham what's ill?  
His death? O barren wit, and sandy rage!  
No marble pillars, no enamels rich,  
Buried in silence, worn away with age,  
Are furies that no greater plagues devise:  
Horrors they be that have eternities.   

What saith my heart? Grow millions out of one?  
Doth passion leave her infancy by use?  
And shall I, by the death of Mahomet,  
More skill, at least more cruelty beget?  
Then let him die. But can I venture Cain,  
And leave misfortune power over love?  
Triumphs to Alaham, if both be slain?   

Ah sleepy Sex! how slow is their progression,  
That would exactly measure infinite,  
By tender fears, or minutes of delight?   

Then Hala, leave this circle of self-love.  
Begin; go on: hate must stride over fear. Who are secure,  
And nothing venture, all things must endure.   

For Alaham, that traitor's overthrow,  
My rage is yet too young to work upon:  
What to resolve of him I dare not think,  
Till this great frame, wherein our fortunes lie,  
Be surer linked unto prosperity.  
Then shall occasion horrors strange device;  
Fools only lose their ends to tyrannize.    

Actus secundus; Scena Tertia.  
Cain bassa, Hala.  CAine. 

Princess of me! I find care in your face,  
Woe smothered up; I came to know your will;  
Nothing which you command me can be ill.   Hala. 

That which I least did fear is fallen on me,  
Wrong and mishap; which needing others love,  
Makes them unlovely that unhappy be.  
From Kings themselves when fortune turns her face;  
Then need they most, yet lest may use their own.  
So dearly Man's unthankfulness is known.   Caine. 

What is the cause that makes you thus accuse  
The world of faults, yourself of inward fear?   Hala. 

The little faith which all the world doth use;  
The injuries which strength of heart must bear:  
Envied of all, if it be set above;  
If humble, then too low for men to love.   Caine. 

Do not forsake yourself: For they that do,  
Offend, and teach the world to leave them too.  
Mortal our God shall be; the truth shall lie;  
Darkness shall see herself; fame lose her voice;  
Ere I will leave my love, or my love you:  
Afflictions wounds affection do renew.   Hala. 

Perchance you love both those I hate, and me;  
Affections then against affection be.  
Perchance a vow, good turns, and good belief  
Are mists between your love, and my relief.   Caine. 

You know I love: speak plain, and do not fear,  
That reason other is than kindness there.   Hala. 

Then hear: and if my judgement you disprove,  
You shall have cause to think I trust, and love.  
Mahomet the faulty is, his faults be these:  
Envious of thee, to my love treacherous;  
The King must lose his sight, his Crown, his Son:  
This wickedness hath Mahomet begun.   Caine. 

O hell! and is thy seat in fleshly hearts?  
Be man's ill thoughts his own ill spirits become?  
I well can think that Mahomet aspires;  
For love of greatness may with goodness go:  
But cannot think that he our death conspires.  
Perchance he seeks to do your brother Right,  
Which makes our own desires to do us spite.   Hala. 

Mischief that may be helped, is hard to know;  
And danger going on still multiplies.   Caine. 

Let care as fast then add unto her eyes.   Hala. 

Where harm hath many wings, care arms too late:   Caine. 

Hasty attempts make chance precipitate.  
What shall I do?   Hal. 

Go forward in thy fear:  
Danger doth give thee choice to do, or bear.   Caine. 

My love of him, and truth, do make me loath  
To think them wronged: And shall I wrong them both?   Hala. 

The good belief of mankind is a sea  
Where honour drowns, iniquity goes free;  
Whose thoughts (like sails) for every weather be.   Caine. 

With shaking thoughts no hands can draw aright:  
True hearts, to do unnobly, have no spirit.   Hala. 

The fear of some, is guilt with honesty;  
Others, with love; thine, with false nobleness.  
Yet think not (Coward) wit can hide the shame  
Of hearts, which while they dare not strike for fear,  
Would make it virtue in them to forbear.   

No Cain: In men we women, when we love,  
Ask faith, and heart. ourselves have fear, and wit.  
In love how can thy soul, and mine agree?  
I seek revenge, thou preachest piety.   Caine. 

More easy motions gentle hearts receive:  
His fault was great; yet you may have redress  
In State, and honour, without such excess.   Hala. 

Excess the reason is, and mean of love;  
And in the same excess is malice joyed:  
I would be safe, and yet have him destroyed.   Caine. 

If leave, or left the fate of kindness be,  
By his example, what becomes of me?   Hala. 

If blind to all, but to itself, be love;  
Whence do your vows, or whence this question move?  
Since the true state of true affection is  
Wonder, at others' worth; Faith, without hire;  
Unwearied Pain; unrecompensed Desire.   Caine. 

Great hearts thus given away, in prison are;  
Their strength, their bands; and good belief, their smart:  
Love never severs reason from the heart.   Nala. 

My shame again then unto me impart;  
Restore my faith; and I do render thee  
Those faithless vows, which thou hast made to me.  
For since, I see, the spongy hearts of men  
Their hollows gladly fill with women's love,  
And nothing yield to them uncrushed again:  
What nature works 'tis folly to complain.   

Mahomet, that wretch, hath done me injury;  
He left my love, and he my life hath sought:  
Cain! Line at ease; fame is an idle breath;  
My body is enough twixt thee, and death.   Caine. 

Distract I am: my reason (like a cloud,  
Before a winter's storm) rides here, and there:  
Like reeds, my thoughts are straight and crooked too;  
With diverse breaths, which diverse passions blow.  
Against the stream of truth must love still go?  
Resolved I am that Mahomet shall die.   Hala. 

Shame spoke this word: danger appears not yet;  
Time, like a medicine, will assuage this pain,  
And fear perchance bring back good will again.   Caine. 

It is not I that live in me, but you;  
Whose will hath fashioned all my thoughts anew.   Hala. 

Then on: When thoughts unite all care is ceased;  
The heart, unfettered and the hope increased.  
Out of his death I see occasion borne,  
To greater power than needs to cover scorn.  
For he the justice rules, you rule the War;  
His death divided powers will unite:  
And in a broken course where dangers be,  
Only the Crown can put off misery.   Caine. 

Far be it off, our hopes should be so vain.  
Our secret love already tempteth God,  
To war him more with infidelity,  
Would hasten vengeance, and make sharp his rod.   Hala. 

God made strict laws for virtue's exercise,  
An idle word, a wish transgresseth them:  
Yet in a Throne remorse hath glorious eyes.  
Alaham doth undermine the present State:  
When he corrupted hath the people's faith,  
Thou hast the sword: authority makes way,  
Her hand is next when Crowns become a prey.   Caine. 

We God and man will first try with the death  
Of Mahomet: If that do pass for good,  
Hope easily makes occasion understood.   Hala. 

The end agreed, the mean is yet in doubt.   Caine. 

By sword.   Hala. 

That will be easy to descry;  
Danger to miss; and hard to do without.   Caine. 

By poison then; whereof though doubts may grow,  
What one alone may do, is hard to know.   Hala. 

It often fails: For instruments are base;  
Slaves have too slavish hearts; a Basha's name  
Is like a superstitious hallowed place.  
Men must be forced, or wise that force the same.   Caine. 

By these two hands, that will not fail their heart,  
It shall be wrought.  
If poison miss, the sword shall compass it:  
When chances often scape, at last they hit.   Hala. 

Fortune, and Love! Both Gods of humane might,  
You like adventure, see it rightly placed:  
You live in kindness, see it not disgraced:   Exit. Caine. 

What I have vowed, both God, and Nature hate;  
My heart misgives; my soul doth prophesy,  
That evil thoughts procure an evil fate.  
But ah! my love I gave, and it gave me.  
The choice is past: Thoughts now must think to do  
Not what I freely am, but forced unto.    

Actus secundus: Scena quarta.  
Mahomet; Cain.  MAhomet. 

whoever have observed the work of spirits  
May see how easily men slide down to ill.  
The world hath strange examples, false delights,  
Which make our senses nets to catch our will.  
Who then with men for every fault falls out,  
Must hate himself, and all the world about.  
Behold! the man I speak of doth appear:  
Retire aside, stand close, mark what succeeds:  
His own destruction, or else mine he breeds.   

Cain! what is it, that thus your mind distracts?  
Counsels of honour alter not the face;  
Hearts only think with pain of doubtful acts.   Caine. 

In care they live that must for many care;  
And such the best, and greatest ever are.   Mah. 

They purchase care unto themselves, that know  
The weight of care; and yet will it embrace.  
If care be grievous, why usurp you so?   Caine. 

I live but to obey the Princes will.   Mahomet. 

That is, to cherish Prince in their ill:  
For they must flatter good, and evil too,  
That under Princes all alone will do.   Caine. 

As sweetest vapours covet to the sky:  
So faith, and duty after Princes run;  
Ill nature never can endure a Sun.   Mahomet. 

Flattery so like in all to duty shows,  
But finelier dressed in diligence, and care,  
As Kings best pleased, that most deceived, are.   Caine. 

Harsh spirit hates them, that do not hate with it,  
Miscensures all the world to seem severe;  
Binds honesty and truth to have no wit;  
These ill-faced virtues not of nature be,  
But peevishness, true honour's enemy.   Mahomet. 

A just, severe, and universal care  
Of people, shorn by PRINCE's favourites,  
To spies of Tyranny unpleasing is;  
Which ever, like ambitious Adamants,  
So fast from people draw to princes' States,  
As in the end they must draw up their hares.   

Cain! then take heed of your self-seeking plot,  
Engrossing offices, aspiring all;  
For it offends even those it toucheth not.  
Nor is it only this that hazards you;  
Ill never goes alone, if fame say true.   Caine. 

Is fame to censure us that live above,  
And must sell justice, if we purchase love?   Mahomet. 

Fame is the people's voice, to tell their grief,  
Appealing from inferiors to the chief.  
If falsely you, and Hala, fame abuse;  
Infamy for nothing men unwisely choose:  
If fame speak truth, which you would not have known,  
Grieve to deserve, but not to bear your own.   Caine. 

What do I, that the world can well reprove?   Mahomet. 

Unjustly suffer, or unjustly love.   Caine. 

Suffer I do; for infamy is there,  
Where either malice, envy is, or fear.  
Love I confess I do; And what is it,  
But nature's tax, laid upon good intent,  
For right, and honour unto excellent?   Mahomet. 

Reason must judge of love, not love of it;  
Else shall love ground of every mischief be:  
For murder, theft, adultery, and spite,  
Are but love of revenge, and others right.   

Ah Cain! my heart is racked with inward grief,  
justice hath party there, and so hath love:  
They both have wounds, and yet they both have life;  
The one suppressing what the other moves.  
I will speak plain: Hala, thou dost abuse,  
And stainest the PRINCE's line with servile lust:  
Wherein proud courage, matched with guiltiness,  
Adds wrong to wrong; and to overbuild complaint,  
Affects that greatness which makes faults seem less.   

Cain! weigh thy course: "Ambitions gilded spheres  
" Are like to painted hells, which please the eyes,  
"Even while they show the heart where horror lies.  
Her gilded Throne built on the ruin is  
Of Fame, of true Religion, and of Law:  
The labour's great that all the world must draw.  
The second place, which with this King you hold,  
Yields fear unfearful, greatness well secured:  
Who stand, or fall with Kings, stand well assured.  
Where men that wrongfully aspire a Crown,  
While they look upward ever tumble down.  
Besides, thy bloody plots discovered be  
To work my death; did not the Powers above  
Restrain both ill men's malice, and their love.   Caine. 

Let this bear witness: No false prophets know,  
The time, or manner of their overthrow.   Mahomet. 

Nay let thy life, in his power thou wouldst kill,  
Prove, God gives seldom good success to ill.  
Behold! Even Nature's just accusing spies  
Now make thy face blush forth thy guiltiness;  
Remorse begets strange contrarieties:  
confusion's war of good, and ill, I see,  
At once contending for the victory.   

But Cain! hold fast these sparks, they be of truth.  
These smokes will pass, and light appear again;  
Shame past, is honour; Error is virtue's book,  
Where knowledge doth above temptation look:   Caine. 

What ugly music inward discords make?  
Thoughts laid asleep of long do now appear;  
Even half my power conjures me for his sake.  
What's this? methinks I feel my shame grow dear.  
Hate of myself, and desolation breed,  
Where joy, and pleasure I was wont to feed.   Mahomet. 

Who lose their evils, lose their own despair;  
Out of which loss new hopes of honour rise,  
To show the world desire with better eyes.   Caine. 

What can I hope? My fruit of better wit  
Is but to know I sailed for lack of it.  
Shame is in that I leave, and that I do:  
The fault is only mine; and only I,  
A sacrifice unto you all, will die.   Mahomet. 

Favour thyself: Passions are desperate,  
And tempt with uncouth woe, as well as joy.  
It evil is that glories to destroy;  
Her, and her counsels kill, and I agree;  
For she is foe alike to thee, and me.   Caine. 

That is destroy myself; and I consent:  
For all any thoughts to thee were evil bent.   Mahomet. 

Cain! credit not those visions of the ill.  
Faults are in flesh, as motes be in the Sun,  
Where light doth show each little thing amiss.  
Presumption, and despair live opposite,  
As times false glasses, wherein frailties see,  
Their faults too great, or else too little be.  
But judge the man from whom these motions grow.  
Alaham ambitious is, light, violent;  
His end but to surprise his father's state:  
Unto which end, no lets there are but we;  
Who won, removed, or ruined must be.  
He first tried me with rival jealousy,  
Showing me hope, and honour in the start:  
Besides revenge, by thy death offering me,  
Of our divided powers an unity.  
But I stood firm. While he no whit dismayed,  
Tempts thee more strongly, whom he hateth more;  
Resolved whoever kills, shall killed be:  
So much the faithless joy in cruelty.   Caine. 

"Mischief o'erflows my thoughts; & like a sea,  
" Devours the dews, the rain, the snow, the springs,  
"And all their sweetness to his saltness brings.  
How should I ground a faith, that faithless know  
myself to be? Or why should he mistrust,  
On whom the worst that can befall is just?   Mahomet. 

Who live distrusting, yet have time to friend;  
But who mistrusting die, make haste to go  
To that infernal Monarchy of fear,  
Where worse things come to pass, than doubted were.   Caine. 

Mahomet! Thou hast o'ercome: I yield, by thee  
To hold my life, as sentence of my fall;  
Thy worths example, no life natural.  
Yet grant me thus-much more; to keep thee close,  
Till I thy death to Alaham impart;  
Conceit itself doth ease a broken heart.   Mahomet. 

Grant me again, while secretly I live,  
You guard yourself from Alaham's treachery;  
Lest you have harm; he, joy; I, infamy.   Exit. Caine. 

Behold my state! bound to my enemies;  
Of friends in doubt. To me even good, and ill,  
The one despair, the other cowardice.  
Hala I love: O word beyond the right,  
On which is built that false thought, Liberty,  
Which makes great hearts in greatest ills delight.  
I sought her love through all the arts of lust;  
Where will, is faith; and honour, Tyranny;  
Mischief, affection's proof; and shame, her trust.  
Hard, back from ill, the way to goodness is,  
By scorn, remorse, patience, and broken heart,  
Impossible to them that do amiss.  
Then on: walk in this path of death, or shame;  
Alaham is false, or Mahomet, or I;  
Resolved I am, that one of us shall die.   

CHORUS SECVNDVS, Of Furies:  
Malice. Craft. Pride. Corrupt reason. Evil Spirit.  MAlice. 

Whence grows this fatal stay of our progression?  
Who have no friends are deaf to intercession?  
What can withstand our power? Our ends are evil;  
And so need fear no let from any Devil.   Craft. 

We divers are in works, though not in ends;  
And thereby every Fury finds some friends.  
Besides, we overact, and therein foil  
The ruin of Mankind, wherein we toil.   Malice. 

Give me one instance: wherein do we fail?   Craft. 

In that we mankind unto fame entail.   Malice. 

That breaks religion's bounds, and makes him ours,  
By forming his God out of his own powers:  
For if by Conscience he did leave, or take;  
On that smooth face we could no wrinkle make.   Craft. 

Yet fame keeps outward order, and supports:  
For shame and honour are strong humane forts.  
Whereas Confusion is an engine fit  
For us, at once to swallow man with it.   Malice. 

Nay Craft! it is thy faint hypocrisy,  
That mankind is so long protected by.  
Thy often changes many times appease  
Those Furies, which would else destroy at ease.   Craft. 

Fie Malice! It is you that us deceive,  
Who but with violence only can bereave.  
For which you find not many natures fit,  
And so add little to our Throne by it.  
Where I pass through all the orbs of vice,  
And form in each mould Nature's prejudice.  
The Christian Church from me is not exempt;  
Laws have by me both honour and contempt;  
By me the War upholds her reputation;  
And lust, which leaves no certain generation;  
Envy, that hates all difference of degree;  
And self-love, which hath no affinity;  
Even you, without me, cannot prosper well:  
I am the mould, and Majesty of hell.   Pride. 

Craft, peace! thou cuttest every thread so thin,  
As it destroys thy works ere they begin.  
Thy cobwebs, like th' Astrologers thin line,  
Fit for discourse, for use are over-fine.  
Thy state is nothing else but change and fear,  
Weeds that no fruit, but fading blossoms bear,  
Clothed with pied colours of hypocrisy,  
Which like to all is, yet can nothing be.  
In you no soul finds stairs to rise withal,  
Descent to craft, change, fear, being natural.  
When I propound in gross, you minutes play,  
Which is the cause our Tragic works thus stay.  
My wheels go on at once, thine restless pause;  
Of little works, with much ado, the cause.  
You even in Hala sometimes breed remorse,  
At least a doubt that evil hath no force.  
Thou makest Cain in undertaking slow,  
Who must, to serve thy turn, like goodness show:  
Those Scenes still tedious are, those Acts too long,  
Where thy unresolute Images be strong.  
For while you fear your true tormentor, Shame,  
I swallow all at once, with honour's name.  
Then glory not: since where thy links excel,  
There we enlarge not, but contract our hell.   Corrupt reason. 

Peace you base Subalterns! and strive no more,  
That but the Carriers be of my rich store.  
Perchance you think me th' object of you all,  
And so no Fury, but the Fury's thrall:  
Where I give form, and stuff to make you worse,  
And so become your Lord, and not your Nurse.  
I break the banks of duty, honour, faith;  
And subject am to no power, but to death:  
Charge me; I grant, Delays grow out of wit:  
And are not all your false webs wrought by it?  
To time I have respect, to person, place;  
I cross myself to give my own acts grace.  
I am Base to you all, and so the chief,  
Equal with truth, where I find good belief.  
I bear the weight of fear, the rage of lust,  
With self-love, envy, malice, left in trust.  
I calm man's windy pride, distempered rage,  
Giving to each a shape for every age.  
Wrong I attire in purple robes of might,  
That State may help it to be infinite.  
And who is fitter here to rule you all,  
Than I, that give you being, by my fall?   

Know therefore all you shadow-loving Spirits!  
Who have no being, but in man's demerits,  
That infinite desires, and finite power,  
At once, can never all mankind devour.  
Though men be all ours, and all we but one;  
The vice yet cannot build, or stand alone.  
Be it man's weakness that doth interrupt,  
Or some power else that cannot be corrupt;  
Or be there what there may be else above,  
Which may, and will maintain her own by love:  
Yet have we scope enough to mar this State;  
And to the ever being, what is late?   

As men in your name's image ugliness,  
To check beloved children's wantonness,  
When they would have them do things, or for bear;  
And call you when they know you are not there:  
So I enamel your deformity,  
Making all your excesses like to me.  
And that you may believe this to be true;  
We are not like: For what am I, but you?   Evil Spirits. 

Reason! You mar our Mart, by coveting  
Not to be equal with us, but our King.  
For though you now like Roman Augurs be,  
Who, but your staff, have no true mystery;  
Yet do you strive to rule, add, or diminish;  
And idly so protract what we could finish.   

Else how could Alaham, or Hala stay  
So long; from making to our ends a way?  
lust's open face this Age will easily bear,  
And hope here currant is to all, but fear.  
Wrong needs no veil, where times do tyrannize;  
And what, but lack of heart, is then unwise;  
Age hath descried those toys to be but name,  
Which in the world's youth did bear real fame;  
justice, Religion, Honour, Humbleness;  
Shadows, which not well mixed, make beauty less.  
They help to smother, not enlarge our fire,  
By putting painted masks on man's desire;  
And give time to unactive Theory,  
Which rage itself would not do, were it free.  
So that we, Circle-like, change men to beasts,  
Which beasts turn men again: Too base a crest  
For us, that would quite banish doing well;  
And so at once change heaven and earth, to hell.   

In which course, who doth well observe each part,  
Shall find mankind to have so strange a heart;  
As being all ill, yet no one ill serves  
To work him to that mischief he deserves:  
Fear, hope, desire, love, courage being mixed  
So nicely in him, as none can be fixed.  
Which is our glory: as for every state  
To have a Tempter fitted, and a fate.  
A fear in Great men still, to lose their might;  
And in the mean, ambition infinite;  
Truth, in the witty held but as a notion;  
Honour, the Old man's God; the Youths promotion.  
All which opposing powers, yet do agree  
To work corruption in humanity.  
Then on: This time is ours: What need we haste?  
Since till time ends, our reign is sure to last.      


Actus tertius: Scena prima.  
ALAHAM alone.  ALaham. 

I march above the wits, and hearts of men;  
Chance at my feet, and power in my hand.  
Now King indeed. Obedience doth become  
Men, that can strength by wisdom overcome.  
It honour was, even worthy more than Crowns,  
To pass the Basha's in adventuring:  
They were possessed, I dispossessed of all,  
But liberty to live, or die a thrall.  
Truth was in vain; no piecing up with might  
For me I saw; I had too good a cause:  
Counsel is slow, each minute infinite,  
When resolution to her ripeness draws.   

I saw corruption was the way to rise,  
And with that shot I pierced their tyrannies.  
Their guard I did corrupt. Base servile spirits,  
(I knew) lacked wit to see, or heart to bear  
Temptation: For desire is infinite  
In them, that wanting honour cannot fear.   

Trial is made: The King I do possess:  
My right is more; why should my hope be less?  
And am I King? And do my foes still live?  
Can wounded Greatness slumber in a Throne?  
Or that be glory which I feel alone?  
No, No: Let rigour speak, which all men hear:  
Life, is the work of Nature; death, of Kings:  
Ruin it is, that reputation brings.   

My Guard is strong; their first employment is  
The murder of those men my father trusts;  
Not all; for that were cruelty, not wit:  
Some simple being, some indifferent spirits:  
Their ends, and honours being but delights.  
Others ambitious, rash, and violent,  
No inward strength of nature: or of grace;  
Of present power the noblest instruments.  
Transform, and use: wit virtue doth exceed:  
For it is all, or none, as men have need.   

Only my care is how the Plot should prove,  
Which for the Basshas now in ambush lies:  
My wife hath art and rage, which jointly move  
Her headstrong spirits unto cruelties.  
But if her craft serve not to pluck them down,  
The sword wants not pretences for the Crown.   

My friends, and Mates! (You! upon whom I lay  
My life, and honour, with this State, in trust)  
Be resolute; For scruple doth betray;  
Since all great works have great examples must.  
Take Assem, Zeraphus, and Velladoune:  
Blood asketh blood: with ravine they did spoil  
The people first; and now betray the Crown.  
Revenge your parents, Countrymen, and kin:  
Blood here is just, true honour, and no sin.   

The cankered Calchas, scourge of Tyrannies,  
Great master of deceit, Artisan of spoil,  
The spy of faults, and spring of subsidies;  
Naked deliver him into the Sea,  
To plague those faults it cannot wash away.   

The rest to bonds, who though they want no spite,  
Their frailty yet for innocence shall stand.  
All else exile. Obey in every thing:  
They happy are that serve a rising King.    

Actus tertius: Scena secunda.  
Cain, Alaham.  CAine. 

Placed in a Throne? Guarded? Adored? and Crowned?  
What means this change? These signs of Majesty?  
Goodness gets not so soon a great Estate:  
Mischief's foul way to Sovereignty:  
This secret haste is sure: all is imbound.  
What shall I do? Hold on the course I meant? Why not?  
The death of Mahomet will still content.  
Thy will is done; and Mahomet is slain.   Alaham. 

My mind misgave itself; my thoughts did fear;  
Yet knew I they of nothing guilty were.  
By fate, or malice is the Bassha slain?   Caine. 

By fate I think: for justice fatal is,  
As God's bequest to them that do amiss.   Alaham. 

By sudden death, by thunder, lightning, fire,  
Or by what other anger of the sky?  
I pray thee show how Mahomet did die.   Caine. 

By these hands that owe service to the State,  
And by his blood have made it fortunate.   Alaham. 

What execration did he dying use  
Against this violence of broken faith;  
Which wounds good souls more than the Body's death?   Caine. 

In falling down, these only words he spoke:  
"Help people! help: My death your bondage brings:  
" Behold! these wounds receive I for your sake;  
"Reward of them that friend you under Kings.  
" Vile Cain! that (like the Axe) dost go about,  
"To cut thyself an helve to wear thee out.   Alaham. 

Most wicked act! Could neither faith, nor law,  
Reverence of State, remorse of doing ill,  
The pains of justice, nor the hopes withdraw  
Thy raging hand?  
And dost thou think the world can suffer this;  
That thou shouldst glory to have done amiss?   Caine. 

Is thy desire grown wanton in her joy?  
Or dost thou seem to say thy wishes nay,  
More kindly in the end with them to play?   Alaham. 

By fires of hell, which burn, and have no light;  
By those foul spirits which ill men only see;  
I swear thy death shall Mahomet's requite.   Caine. 

Unto the world although I guilty be;  
I did thy will: let me be clear to thee.   Alaham. 

In vain I should command his death by sleights,  
That placed am upon the father's seat,  
Where power can easilier do things, than entreat.   Caine. 

The State of Kings is large; yet lacks in this,  
That easy each thing, but not lawful is.  
Besides, you then a second brother were;  
Nor knew I, when this plot we did devise,  
You should see clearer by your father's eyes.   Alaham. 

Rumor, complaints, and scornful thoughts of power,  
Are ways of private hearts, that from below  
Misjudge those higher powers, they do not know.  
But now borne up into a PRINCE's Throne,  
Beneath I see that world of discontent,  
Where error teacheth use of punishment.  
Away with him. Entreaty is in vain:  
Thy death to him is due, whom thou hast slain.   Caine. 

"Ah fearful friendships with superior powers!  
" Whose two parts, they themselves, and their Estates,  
"Divide, or join like nets; and be the snare,  
" Where love, and fear to power entrapped are.  
Alaham! avow thy deed.  
To constant wickedness men honour bear,  
Where truth itself hath injury by fear.   Alaham. 

I say; Let him be slain. His fault is this,  
That Mahomet most traitorously he slew.   Caine. 

Stay Sir! I say that he still living is,  
And my confession of myself untrue.   Alaham. 

Traitor unto thyself! and false to me!  
What riddles of contempt, and wickedness  
Are these, which of thyself confessed be?  
If Mahomet be dead; then shalt thou die:  
For murder of thy friend deserves no less.  
If Mahomet do live; yet shalt thou die:  
For if no murder, scorn thou dost confess.  
Away with him.    

Actus tertius: Scena tertia.  
Hala. Alaham.  HAla. 

What tumult's this my Lord?   Alah. 

The play of Chance,  
Which without mischief nothing can advance.   Hala. 

Yet good Sir! tell me what this tumult is.   Alaham. 

The fall of him whose heart hath done amiss.   Hala. 

His name, and crime (sweet Lord) I long to know.   Alaham. 

Report of mischief doth infect the heart,  
And wisdom bids they should in silence go;  
For nature feeleth everybody's smart.   Hala. 

Women, belike, are still in infancy.  
That must not fear, or provocation see.  
The glass of horror is not fact, but fear:  
Opinion is a Tyrant everywhere.   Alaham. 

If I shall tell you what you long to know,  
What boots it? If you think it is not so.   Hala. 

What leads your reason, leads my reason too,  
That all your words conceive in kindness do.   Alaham. 

The man that was, and is not now, is he  
That never was the man he seemed to be.  
Cain: What need more to show? with him are dead  
His fault, and our goodwills to him mislead.   Hala. 

What hear I now? O false and weak estate  
Of good belief! Wherein shall peace be found?  
Since Gods be not, and mankind made to hate.   

Cain dead? even Cain, whom now we loved best,  
In instants both grown wicked, and oppressed?  
Cain slain by you! Hath Cain deserved this?  
O God! Like strange his crime, and killing is.  
Perchance not dead my Lord! how was he slain?   Alaham. 

By sword.   Hala. 

Wounds let forth spirits, yet live again.   Alaham. 

Nay, dead he is. These eyes did see his breath  
Bear all his spirits into the world of death.   Hala. 

Necessity, that from infernal night  
Fatally linked art unto the skies!  
Bear thee we cannot, yet we bear thee must.  
Now hopes appear: even now my heart resolves  
Revenge; and silence is the way to it.  
Did he confess his fault? What spoke he last?   Alaham. 

Ah Mahomet! whose hopes were on me placed.   Hala. 

Hasty belief (my Lord) hath hasty deeds,  
And with their wounds, oft truth, and wisdom bleeds.   Alaham. 

When wickedness is ripe, a minute shows  
What chance the dice of Innocency throws.   Hala. 

Pardon me Lord! Good thoughts do live above;  
In highest region of unfeigned love:  
Doubt and revenge, Nature hath placed below  
Meaning the space should make the passage slow.   Alaham. 

God, meaning we should rule, and you obey,  
Gave men clear sight, and women good affection:  
In us, not in yourselves, lies your election.   Hala. 

My Lord! 'Tis true: Our frail, and weak Estate  
Doth labour in excess: A woman's heart  
Still in the fever is of love, or hate.  
Hardly the love which I did be are to Cain,  
Could think he erred; much less approve him slain.  
But now his falls approved by heavenly doom,  
Our loss in him foretells our gain to come.   

Then Sir! Take care his death be not in vain.  
Your silly Sire is blind; if he were dead,  
This reeling State by you might stand again:  
True joy is only hope put out of fear,  
And honour hideth error everywhere.   

A form the world expects in worldly things:  
Cain was a man, a Bassha, and our friend;  
Sepulture, as a man; honour, to his estate;  
Tears do become a guilty friendship's end:  
Excess of honour, done to them that die,  
Makes living men see our humanity.   

Besides, thought-feeding rumor forth will go,  
And occupy unquiet people's spirits,  
While in this pile for Cain you may bestow  
Their blinded weakness, which withhold your right.  
People do power, not persons apprehend;  
Strength shows like truth; Mankind loves policy:  
Defended Kings, but not revenged be.   Alaham. 

Envy will rise, and both ways fall on us;  
Either as having slain an innocent,  
Or highly erred by burying treason thus.  
In penal justice silence best contents.   Hala. 

Rumor must needs be borne of doing minds:  
Envy is but the smoke of low estate,  
Ascending still against the fortunate.   Alaham. 

I fear the carriage: it hath many parts.  
And Hazards courses may find overthwarts.   Hala. 

My shame is equally engaged with yours.  
Intents ill carried are that men may know;  
When things are done, let rumor freely go.   Alaham. 

Great works do oft yield grievous accidents,  
Which stir up people's rage beyond intents.   Hala. 

People are superstitious, caught with shows:  
To power why do they else their freedom give,  
But that in other's pomp these shadows live?   Alaham. 

O blessed yoke! that under reason draws  
The pleasant load of well-united love:  
Thy counsel (as mine own) I do approve.   Hala. 

Then send the Priest. To me bequeath the rest.  
For superstition hides ill meaning best.    

Actus Tertius; Scena Quarta.  
Hala: Nutrix.  HAla. 

And is he gone? Rage then unprisoned be!  
I like thee well! While Alaham was there,  
Thou then didst use thy violence on me.  
Now prey abroad; swell above all respect;  
Fear nothing, if notorious thou wilt reign:  
Thy glories shine, when every one complain.   

What now? A child? And dost thou idly walk  
The beaten paths of common cruelty?  
A judge, and no revenger then am I,  
If thou no more than his offences be.  
While Cain did live thou thought'st of more than this:  
Shall death, desire, hope, fame, and fortunes lost  
Such fading Trophies have?  
Can thankfulness abound? And shall offence  
Not feel, Revenge hath her magnificence?  
Rage! now thou art above the Orb of doubt,  
Where danger dangerless appears to thee;  
Divine (I pray thee) what shall fall to me?  
Must I be slain?   Nutrix. 

Monstrous I know, this woman's nature is.  
The worst she still; herself she now exceeds,  
That dares scarce trust herself with that she breeds.   Hala. 

Well! now I feel thee rise, when I admire:  
When hills have clouds, let all the valleys fear.  
Scornest thou to make examples out of him?  
Hast thou found out his children? They are mine,  
Proud horror! Dost thou choose the innocent?  
False conqueror of nature! dost thou move  
A woman's spite to spoil a mother's love?  
Rage! shall we strive which shall give other place?   Nutrix. 

Hala! suppress; you need not kindle Rage.   Hala. 

Well! On. So that (like ruin) I may fall,  
And ruin him; take children, me, and all.   Nutrix. 

Hala! distract? have senses lost their use?   Hala. 

Is there a third that traficketh abuse?   Nutrix. 

I bring you piety, duty, reason, love,  
Water, to quench these flames that passions move.   Hala. 

Throw on enough. No Sea can quench this flame;  
And then, what cannot quench doth but inflame.   Nutrix. 

For whom do you this sumptuous storm prepare?   Hala. 

For whom are wives estates enjoined to care?   Nutrix. 

Is malice currant where respect is due?   Hala. 

Power doth what likes in her inferiors move;  
As we are 'sessed, so pay we; hate, or love.   Nutrix. 

What fault in him moved these effects in you?   Hala. 

Thoughts are too strict, much less can words contain;  
The venom of his malice is too deep  
For any power, but Revenge to keep.   Nutrix. 

Then Rage is lost: For there is nought in man,  
That equal pain with such offences can.   Hala. 

Be that the gage. Man's senses barren were,  
If they could apprehend, but what they feel.  
Ills do with place (like Numbers) multiply:  
The living, dead, malice, affection, fear,  
My womb, and I do his affliction bear.   Nutrix. 

Will you destroy your own?   Hala. 

My own are his.   Nutrix. 

Infamous act!   Hala. 

Rage doth but now begin.   Nutrix. 

Canst thou do worse?   Hala. 

Else to myself I sin  
Life is too short; horror exceeds not faith,  
That cannot plague offences after death.   Nutrix. 

Ah! Calm this storm; these ugly torrents shun.  
Of Rage, which drown thyself, and all beside.   Hala. 

Furies! no more irregularly run,  
But arted: Teach confusion to divide.   Nutrix. 

If kind be disinherited in thee,  
Yet have compassion of this Orphan State.   Hala. 

That is the work, which men shall wonder at:  
For while his ruined are, yet mine shall reign;  
His heirs, but yet true issue unto Cain.   Nutrix. 

These works on princes' ruins must be built.   Hala. 

For my revenge no baser blood is spilled.   Nutrix. 

What force can Princes forces overbear?   Hala. 

That force, which makes their pride it cannot fear.   Nutrix. 

How enters malice where there is mistrust?   Hala. 

With tribute into State: to Kings with lust.   Nutrix. 

What way to these?   Hala. 

Prosperity, success.   Nutrix. 

These add more power:   Hala. 

So much suspect the less.   Nutrix. 

What can you add?   Hala. 

Presents, obedience, praise:  
They need not knock to enter in that please.   Nutrix. 

Flatteries are plain.   Hala. 

To Kings that see their ill.   Nut. 

Kings jealous are.   Hala. 

Of truth, not of their will.   Nutrix. 

Usurper's fear.   Hala. 

Worth, not humility.  
king's errors are our Agents in their hearts;  
Their private passions wound their public States;  
Time hath her arguments, and place her Arts.   

This day he doth consummate all his joy:  
Glory now at the Full is not suspicious;  
And what adds to his pomp shall him destroy.  
A Crown, and Mantle of most curious work  
I have prepared, even with Egyptian skill;  
And poison him in pleasing him I will.   Nutrix. 

My spirits fail.   Hala. 

Till Alaham's ills do tremble,  
Horror is faint; Rage doth but Rage resemble.  
Depart; keep secret, and be not dismayed:  
Unperfect works cannot their glories show;  
This goodly World did from a Chaos grow.   Exit. Nutrix. 

Now Cain! For whose revenge I only live,  
Inspire thy ghost, to multiply in me  
More sense, to make my senses more enraged;  
More love, to make love's losses more in thee;  
Double my wit beyond my strength engaged;  
Open all lights of possibility;  
Let grief, which yet keeps company with death,  
Break forth, and poison all things with her breath.    

Actus tertius: Scena quinta.  
Priest. Hala.  PRiest. 

madam! whom men obey, and God doth hear:  
What zeal, remorse, or charity doth move  
Your heart? The King leaves all things to your love.   Hala. 

Cain, who of late did live to both us dear,  
'Tis true, did fail; and for his fault is slain:  
Our hearts are eased, as having lost their fear,  
The rites of humane duties yet remain.  
A king's beloved he was; sometimes our friend;  
Which must appear in honour of his end.   

Such royal Piles, as for the Princely race  
Are made a sacrifice unto the sky,  
In honour of that God, which gave them place:  
Such sumptuous Piles make: But more cost bestow;  
Because both just Revenge, and Love they show.   

Summon the Mufti, and Soothsayers all,  
The Persian Magi, Christian star-divines,  
The first, to sing alike his faith, and fall;  
The last, to tell how higher power inclines.  
In short; Revenge, and Love shine in those fires;  
Pour on all pomp that magnifies desires:  
As if at once by cross mortality,  
The Prince, and Princely line were dead in one;  
Let mourning and devotion to the sky  
Be offered up in pomp, and public moan.  
Magnificence is Princely mystery;  
All great Estates by great expense are known.  
Prepare excess: Let no cost be forgot;  
It makes men wonder, though they honour not.  
Music to fix the wandering spirits race,  
And sweeten envy's thoughts in unity;  
That sorrow and devotion may have place,  
Remorse and pity flow, and multiply.  
Lights of all kinds the light of day shut out;  
For darkness so enameled is devout.   Exit. Priest. 

Unhappy state of Priesthood here below,  
Who have to do with curious Atheism,  
With sin in flesh, and in the Church with schism.  
Our office is an holy mystery,  
To teach Kings, God; and every Subject, King;  
How one obedience doth another bring.  
But what boots truth to flesh, or laws to might?  
Belief a wonder is, Obedience woe.  
And shall we Priests, that under Princes live,  
Strive in ourselves with vice, abroad with might?  
And like the hands which winnow rich men's gain,  
Grow poor in all, but only woe, and pain?   

No, No: The eyes of Priests look ever low,  
To find the key of power, that is above;  
When that is found, all faults beneath we know;  
But Majesty hides faults, as well as love.   

And though these rites of Princely funeral,  
By laws divine, should not profaned be,  
With less, than with descents of Majesty;  
Yet Cain! more Princely, by thy PRINCE's grace,  
Shall be thy tomb, than ever Princes was.   

CHORUS tertius;  
A Dialogue; of Good, and Evil Spirits.  THe Good. 

What is your scope vain Ghosts? would you o'erbuild the sky?  
Were not men's Many tongues, and minds their babel-destiny?  
Your being's discords are; and what can they create,  
But disproportion, which is still the fairest mark of fate?   The Ill. 

Are you afraid poor Souls? Else why do you descend  
To question, or confer with us, to whom you are no friends?  
Who fear their own Estates do commonly first speak,  
As they again put goodness on, who find their party weak.  
We do but what we did, which is increase our might;  
And as on earth, so in the air; cry down your borrowed light.   The Good. 

What can you win of us, that must be as we were?  
Whereas you, exiles out of heaven, can hope for nothing there.   The Ill. 

We, that were as you are, know well what you can be;  
Where you, that never were like us, what can you in us see?   The Good. 

That you have first destroyed yourselves, and are ordained  
To scourge, curse, and corrupt that earth, which you boast to have gained.   The Ill. 

Why did not you defend that which was once your own?  
Between us two, the odds of worth, by odds of power is known.  
Besides, Map clearly out your infinite extent,  
Even in the infancy of time, when much was innocent;  
Could this world then yield aught to envy, or desire,  
Where pride of courage made men fall, and baseness raised them higher?  
Where they that would be great, to be so, must be least?  
And where to bear, and suffer wrong, was virtue's native crest?  
Man's skin, was then his silk; the world's wild fruit, his food;  
His wisdom, poor simplicity; his Trophies inward good.  
No Majesty, for power; nor glories, for man's worth;  
Nor any end, but (as the plants) to bring each other forth.  
Temples, and vessels fit for outward sacrifice,  
As they came in, so go they out, with that which you count Vice.   

The Priesthood few, and poor; No Throne, but open air:  
For that which you call good, allows of nothing that is fair.  
No Pyramis raised up above the force of Thunder,  
Nor Babel-walls by Greatness built, for Littleness a wonder.  
No Conquest testifying wit, with courage mixed;  
As wheels whereon the world must run, and never can be fixed.  
No Arts, or Characters to read the great God in;  
Nor stories of acts done; for these all entered with the sin.  
A lazy calm, wherein each fool a pilot is:  
The glory of the skilful shines, where men may go amiss.   

Till we came in, there was no trial of your might,  
And since we were; in men, yourselves presume of little right.  
Then cease to blast the earth with your abstracted dreams  
And strive no more to carry men against affections streams.  
Nay rather tempt, and prove, if long life make them wise,  
That must, to have their beauties seen, put out all fleshly eyes.  
Or when they be no more, Eternal then to be,  
Neglect the joy, and glorious use of times felicity.  
Cast out these thin-weaved lines, and catch some little flies;  
The greater spirits, which are ours, feel not these nimble eyes.   

In Alaham for instance, plead your power, or right;  
Entice him from a mortal Crown, with your Crown infinite.  
Prove if he will forbear unnatural Parricide,  
To see who in the sea of humours shall the Sceptre guide.  
Try if proud Hala will forget the death of Cain,  
And reconciled, in duty, with her own Lord live, and reign.  
Move Celica, that spirit reputed for your own,  
To see if she, to save her life, would have her fame unknown.  
Work Zophi (that poor soul) though blind, to leave his breath:  
We only make things cheap, or dear, as Lords of life, and death.  
Lastly, persuade the King to live, and save his Crown;  
And all the world shall see we raise, and we pull Princes down.  
So that your beings here are but a tincture cast  
(Like crests upon the Egypt Pharos) to disguise, not last.   

Besides; take from the world that which you reckon Sin;  
And she must be, as at the first, for ever to begin.  
A glorious, spacious womb framed to contain but one;  
Since he, that in it will be yours, is sure to be alone.  
Keep therefore where you are; descend not, but ascend:  
For, underneath the Sun, be sure no brave State is your friend.   The Good. 

What have you won by this, but that cursed under Sin,  
You make, and mar; throw down, and raise; as ever to begin?  
Like Meteors in the air, you blaze but to burn out,  
And change your shapes (like Phantomed clouds) to leave weak eyes in doubt.  
Not truth, but truthlike grounds is that you work upon,  
Varying in all but this, that you can never long be one,  
Then play here with your art; false miracles devise;  
Deceive, and be deceived still; be foolish, and seem wise;  
In peace erect your Thrones; your delicacy spread,  
The flowers of time corrupt soon spring, and are as quickly dead.  
Let war, which (tempest-like) all with itself o'erthrows,  
Make of this divers world a stage for blood-enameled shows.  
Successively both these yet this fate follow will,  
That all their glories be no more than change from ill, to ill.  
So as with peace, or war, if you adorn one realm,  
In both, through other Climes again, you run with barren stream.  
Rest nowhere therefore, but still wander, as you do,  
And restless be they, as you are, that shall receive you too.  
Give Alaham more scope to multiply his error,  
With parent's blood adorn his Throne; more guilt still adds more terreur.  
Let Hala's wicked heart (for all ill births a womb)  
By violence of passion, make for many vices room.  
Let ill example in to stain the Christian Nation;  
The same excess destroys at last, which first gave reputation.  
Conspire against the truth, you have an easy foe:  
For in the world all that are hers can never currant go.  
Under the next good, shadow your deformed excess;  
Yet shall your masked arts, and horns, your cloven feet express.  
Whereby your beauties be so prized among your own;  
As they will blush for yours, by name, or nature to be known.  
Again, take all the world, if it one soul content;  
Then freely let Mankind believe you are omnipotent.  
But if your Legions here do in their glories rave,  
Tormented while they live on earth, and much more in the grave;  
If to be nothing be the best that could be fallen;  
Your subtle Orbs, to real beings, then must needs be thrall.  
And so prove to the good but like those showers of rain,  
Which, while they wet the husbandman, yet multiply his gain.      


Actus quartus: Scena prima.  
King. Celica.  KIng. 

Celica! thou only child, whom I repent  
Not yet to have begot! thy work is vain:  
Thou runnest against my Destiny's intent.  
Fear not my fall; the steep is fairest plain,  
And error safest guide unto his end,  
Who nothing but mischance can have to friend.   

We parents are but Nature's nursery,  
When our succession springs then ripe to fall;  
Privation unto age is natural.  
Age there is also in a PRINCE's State,  
Which is contempt, grown of misgovernment;  
Where love of change begetteth PRINCE's hate:  
For hopes must wither, or grow violent,  
If fortune bind desires to one Estate.   

Then mark: Blind, as a Man: Scorned, as a King:  
A Father's kindness loathed, and desolate:  
Life without joy, or light: what can it bring,  
But inward horror unto outward hate?  
O safety! thou art then a hateful thing,  
When children's death assures the father's State.  
No; Safe I am not, though my son were slain,  
My frailty would beget such sons again.   

Besides, if fatal be the heavens will,  
Repining adds more force to destiny,  
Whose iron wheels stay not on fleshly wit,  
But headlong run down steep Necessity.  
And as in danger, we do catch at it  
That comes to help; and unadvisedly  
Oft do our friends to our misfortune knit:  
So with the harm of those who would us good,  
Is Destiny impossibly withstood.   

Celica then cease; importune me no more:  
My son, my age, the state where things are now  
Require my death. Who would consent to live,  
Where love cannot revenge, nor truth forgive?   Celica. 

Though fear see nothing but extremity,  
Yet danger is no deep sea, but a Ford,  
Where they that yield can only drowned be.  
In wrongs, and wounds, Sir, you are too remiss.  
To Thrones a passive nature fatal is.   King. 

Occasion to my son hath turned her face;  
My inward wants all outward strengths betray;  
And so make that impossible I may.   Celica. 

Yet live:  
Live for the State.   King. 

Whose ruins glasses are,  
Wherein see errors of myself I must,  
And hold my life of danger, shame, and care.   Celica. 

When fear propounds, with loss men ever choose,   King. 

Nothing is left me, but myself, to lose.   Celica. 

And is it nothing then to lose the State?   King. 

Where chance is ripe, there counsel comes too late:  
Celica! by all thou ow'st the Gods, and me,  
I do conjure thee; Leave me to my chance.  
What's past was errors way; the truth it is,  
Wherein I wretch can only go amiss.  
"If Nature saw no cause of sudden ends,  
" She; that but one way made to draw our breath,  
"Would not have left so many doors to death.   Celica. 

Yet Sir! if weakness be not such a sand,  
As neither wrong, nor counsel can manure;  
Choose, and resolve what death you will endure.   King. 

This sword, thy hands, may offer up my breath,  
And plague my life's remissness in my death.   Celica. 

Unto that duty if these hands be borne,  
I must think God, and Truth, but names of scorn.  
Again, this justice were, if life were loved;  
Now merely grace; since death doth, but forgive  
A life to you, which is a death to live.  
Pain must displease that satisfies offence.   King. 

Chance hath left death no more to spoil, but sense.   Celica. 

Then sword! do justice' office through me;  
I offer more than that he hates to thee.   King. 

Ah! Stay thy hand. My State no equal hath,  
And much more matchless my strange vices be:  
One kind of death becomes not thee, and me.  
king's plagues by chance, or destiny should fall;  
Headlong he perish must that ruins all.   Celica. 

No cliff, or rock is so precipitate,  
But down it eyes can lead the blind a way;  
Without me live, or with me die you may.   King. 

Celica! and wilt thou Alaham exceed?  
His cruelty is death, you torments use;  
He takes my Crown, you take myself from me;  
A Prince of this fall'n Empire let me be.   Celica. 

Then be a King, no Tyrant of thyself:  
Be; and be what you will: what nature lent  
Is still in hers, and not our government.   King. 

If disobedience, and obedience both  
Still do me hurt; in what strange state am I?  
But hold thy course: It well becomes my blood,  
To do their parents mischief with their good.   Celica. 

Yet Sir! hark to the poor oppressed tears,  
The just men's moan, that suffer by your fall;  
A PRINCE's charge is to protect them all.  
And shall it nothing be that I am yours?  
The world without, my heart within doth know,  
I never had unkind, unreverent powers.  
If thus you yield to Alaham's treachery;  
He ruins you; 'tis you, Sir, ruin me.   King. 

Celica! Call up the dead; awake the blind;  
Turn back the time; bid winds tell whence they come;  
As vainly strength speaks to a broken mind.  
Fly from me Celica! hate all I do:  
Misfortunes have in blood successions too.   Celica. 

Will you do that which Alaham can not?  
He hath no good: you have no ill, but he:  
This Mar-right yeelding's honours Tyranny.   King. 

Have I not done amiss? Am I not ill,  
That ruined have a king's authority?  
And not one King alone; since Princes all  
Feel part of those scorns, whereby one doth fall.  
Treason against me cannot treason be:  
All laws have lost authority in me.   Celica. 

"The laws of power chained to men's humours be.  
" The good have conscience; the ill (like instruments)  
"Are, in the hands of wise authority,  
" Moved, divided, used, or laid down;  
"Still, with desire, kept subject to a Crown.  
" Stir up all States, all spirits: hope, and fear;  
Wrong, and revenge, are currant everywhere.   King. 

Put down my son: For that must be the way;  
A father's shame, a PRINCE's Tyranny:  
The Sceptre ever shall misjudged be.   Celica. 

Let them fear rumor that do work amiss;  
Blood, torments, death, horrors of Cruelty,  
Have time, and place. Look through these skins of fear,  
Which still persuade the better side to bear.  
And since thy son thus traitorously conspires,  
Let him not prey on all thy race, and thee:  
Keep ill example from posterity.   King. 

Danger is come: and must I now unarm?  
And let in hope to weaken resolution?  
Passion! be thou my Legacy, and Will;  
To thee I give my life, Crown, reputation;  
My pomps to clouds; and (as forlorn with men)  
My strength to women; hoping this alone,  
Though feared, sought, and a King, to live unknown.  
Celica! all these to thee: do thou bestow  
This living darkness, wherein I do go.   Celica. 

My soul now joys. Doing breathes horror out.  
Absence must be our first sleep: Let us fly:  
A pause in rage makes Alaham to doubt;  
Which doubt may stir in people hope, and fear,  
With love, or hate, to seek you everywhere.  
For PRINCE's lives are fortune's misery;  
"As dainty sparks, which till men dead do know,  
" To kindle for himself each man doth blow.   

But hark! What's this? Malice doth never sleep:  
I hear the Spies of power drawing near.  
Sir! follow me: Misfortunes worst is come;  
Her strength is change; and change yields better doom.  
Choice now is passed. Hard by there is a pile  
Built, under colour of a sacrifice;  
If God do grant, it is a place to save;  
If God denies, it is a ready grave.    

Actus quartus: Scena secunda.  
Zophi. Celica.  Zophi. 

Where am I now? All things are silent here.  
What shall I do? Go on from place, to place,  
Not knowing what to trust, or whom to fear?  
Yet what should I not fear, that live to know  
Rights, Kingdoms, parents, all, my overthrow?  
Are these the specious hopes of PRINCE's heirs;  
Is Right still subject to aspiring wit?  
Have they that stand by Princes, more despairs,  
Than they that do supplant anointed heirs!  
Is expectation nothing else in me,  
But woes forerunner, to make deep impression,  
By these surprises, of adversity?  
Are these the glorious triumphs of this day?  
Absent, in presence; banished, in recalling;  
A Throne, a tomb; a Prince become a prey.   

Ah cruel, false, ambitious thirst of State!  
Bloody-like rage! but more revengeful still,  
Because their ends do more inflame their will.  
My rights, and hopes I give, and do forgive:  
Wrong! take the world, let me enjoy myself.  
Scorned, blind, I cannot harm. Ah! let me live.  
Let power despise  
My needless, guiltless blood. The strength of fear  
The loss of all things, but of life, can bear.   Celica. 

What see I here! More spectacles of woe?  
And are my kindred only made to be  
Agents, and Patients in iniquity?  
Ah forlorn wretch! ruins example right!  
Lost to thyself, not to thy enemy,  
Whose hand, even while thou fliest, thou fall'st into;  
And with thy fall, thy father dost undo.  
Save one I may: Nature would save them both;  
But Chance hath many wheels, Rage many eyes.   

What shall I then abandon innocents?  
Not help a helpless brother thrown on me?  
Is nature narrow to adversity?  
No, No. Our God left duty for a law;  
Pity, at large; Love, in authority;  
Despair, in bonds; fear, of itself in awe:  
That rage of time, and powers strange liberty,  
Oppressing good men might resistance find:  
Nor can I to a brother be less kind.  
Dost thou, that canst not see, hope to escape?  
Disgrace, can have no friend; contempt, no guide;  
Right, is thy guilt; thy judge, iniquity;  
Which desolation casts on them that see.   Zophi. 

Make calm thy rage: pity a ghost distressed:  
My right, my liberty, I freely give:  
Give him, that never harmed thee, leave to live.   Celica. 

Nay; God, the World, thy Parents it deny;  
A brother's jealous heart, usurped might  
Grows friends with all the world, except thy right.   Zophi. 

Secure thyself. Exile me from this coast:  
My fault, suspicion is; my judge, is fear;  
Occasion, with myself, away I bear.   Celica. 

Fly unto God: For in humanity  
Hope there is none. Reach me thy fearful hand:  
I am thy sister; neither fiend, nor spy  
Of tyrant's rage; but one that feels despair  
Of thy Estate, which thou dost only fear.  
Kneel down; embrace this holy mystery,  
A refuge to the worst for rape, and blood;  
And yet, I fear, not hallowed for the good,   Zophi. 

Help God! defend thine Altar! since thy might,  
In earth, leaves Innocence no other right.   Celica. 

Eternal God! that seest thyself in us!  
If vows be more than sacrifice of lust,  
Raised from the smokes of hope, and fear in us;  
Protect this innocent; calm Alaham's rage;  
By miracles faith goes from age, to age.  
Affection trembles; reason is oppressed;  
Nature, methinks, doth her own entrails tear:  
In resolution ominous is fear.    

Actus quartus: Scena tertia.  
Alaham. Celica.  ALaham. 

Sirs! seek the City, examine, torture, rack:  
Sanctuaries none let there be: make darkness known:  
Pull down the roofs, dig, burn, put all to wrack:  
And let the guiltless for the guilty groan.  
Change, shame, misfortune in their scaping, lie;  
And in their finding our prosperity.   

Good fortune Welcome! we have lost our care,  
And found our loss: Celica distract I see;  
The King is near: She is her father's eyes.  
Behold! the forlorn wretch, half of my fear,  
Takes Sanctuary at holy Altars feet:  
Lead him apart, examine, force, and try;  
These bind the subject, not the Monarchy.  
Celica! awake: that God of whom you crave  
Is deaf, and only gives men what they have.   Celica. 

Ah cruel wretch! guilty of parents blood!  
Might I, poor innocent, my father free,  
My murder yet were less impiety.  
But on; devour: fear only to be good:  
Let us not scape: thy glory then doth rise,  
When thou at once thy house dost sacrifice.   Alaham. 

Tell me where thy Father is.   Celic. 

O bloody scorn?  
Must he be killed again that gave thee breath?  
Is duty nothing else in thee but death?   Alaham. 

Leave off this mask; deceit is never wise;  
Though he be blind, a King hath many eyes   Celica. 

O twofold scorn. God be revenged for me.  
Yet since my Father is destroyed by thee,  
Add still more scorn, it sorrow multiplies.   Alaham. 

Passions are learned, not borne within the heart;  
That method keep: Order is quiets art.  
Tell where he is: For look what love conceals,  
Pain out of Nature's Labyrinths reveals.   Celica. 

This is reward which thou dost threaten me:  
If terror thou wilt threaten, promise joys.   Alah. 

Smart cools these boiling styles of vanity.   Celica. 

And if my Father I no more shall see,  
Help me unto the place where he remains;  
To hell below, or to the sky above:  
The way is easy, where the guide is love.   Alah. 

Confess: where is he hid?   Celica. 

Rack not my woe.  
Thy glorious pride of this unglorious deed  
Doth mischief, ripe; and therefore falling, show.   Alah. 

Body's have place, and blindness must be led:  
Graves be the Thrones of Kings, when they be dead.   Celica. 

He was (Unhappy) cause that thou art now;  
Thou art, ah wicked! 'cause that he is not;  
And fear'st thou Parricide can be forgot?  
Bear witness, Thou Almighty God on high!  
And you black Powers inhabiting below!  
That for his life myself would yield to die.   Alah. 

Well Sirs! Go seek the dark, and secret caves,  
The holy Temples, sanctified Cells,  
All parts wherein a living corpse may dwell.   Celica. 

Seek him amongst the dead, you placed him there:  
Yet lose no pains, good Souls! go not to hell;  
And, but to heaven, you may go everywhere.  
Guilty, with you, of his blood let me be,  
If any more I of my Father know,  
Than that he is where you would have him go.   Alah. 

Tear up the vaults: behold her agonies!  
"Sorrow substracts, and multiplies the spirits;  
" Care, and desire do under anguish cease!  
"Doubt curious is, affecting piety;  
" Woe, loves itself; fear from itself would fly.  
Do not these trembling motions witness bear,  
That all these protestations be of fear?   Celica. 

If aught be quick in me, move it with scorn:  
Nothing can come amiss to thoughts forlorn.   Alah. 

Confess in time. Revenge is merciless.   Celica. 

Reward, and pain; fear, and desire too,  
Are vain, in things impossible to do.   Alah. 

Tell yet where thou thy Father last didst see.   Celica. 

even where he by his loss of eyes hath won,  
That he no more shall see his monstrous Son.  
First, in perpetual night thou mad'st him go;  
His flesh the grave, his life the stage, where sense  
Plays all the Tragedies of pain, and woe.  
And wouldst thou traitorously thyself exceed,  
By seeking thus to make his Ghost to bleed?   Alah. 

Bear her away: devise; add to the rack  
Torments, that both call death, and turn it back.   Celica. 

The flattering glass of Power is others' pain.  
Perfect thy work; that heaven, and hell may know,  
To worse I cannot, going from thee, go.  
"Eternal life, that ever liv'st above!  
" If sense there be with thee of hate, or love;  
"Revenge my King, and Father's overthrow.  
" O Father! if that name reach up so high,  
"And be more than a proper word of Art,  
" To teach respects in our humanity;  
"Accept these pains, whereof you feel no smart.    

Actus quartus: Scena Quarta.  
King. Alaham.  KIng. 

What sound is this of Celica's distress?  
Alaham! wrong not a silly sister's faith.  
'Tis plague enough that she is innocent;  
My child, thy sister; borne (by thee, and me)  
With shame, and sin to have affinity.  
Break me; I am the prison of thy thought:  
Crowns dear enough, with father's blood, are bought.   Alah. 

Now feel thou shalt, thou ghost unnatural!  
Those wounds which thou to my heart then didst give,  
When, in despite of God, this State, and me,  
Thou didst from death mine elder brother free.  
The smart of king's oppression doth not die:  
Time, rusteth malice; rust, wounds cruelly.   King. 

Flatter thy wickedness; adorn thy rage;  
To wear a Crown tear up thy Father's age.  
Kill not thy sister: It is lack of wit,  
To do an ill that brings no good with it.   Alah. 

Go, lead them hence. Prepare the funeral;  
Hasten the sacrifice, and pomp of woe.  
Where she did hide him, thither let them go.   King. 

"O God! who mad'st those laws which this" Wretch breaks,  
"Let parents' blood this curse upon him bring;  
" That he, who of a child breaks all respect,  
"May, in his children, find the same neglect.   

CHORUS quartus, of People.  

LIke as strong winds do work upon the Sea,  
Stirring, and tossing waves to war each other:  
So Princes do with people's humours play,  
As if Confusion were the Sceptres mother.  
But Crowns! take heed: when humble things mount high,  
The winds oft calm before those billows lie.   

When we are all wronged, had we all one mind,  
Whom could you punish? what could you reserve?  
Again, as hope, and fear distract mankind;  
Knew Kings their strength, our freedom were to serve.  
But Fate doth to herself reserve both these,  
With each to punish other, when it please.   

Grant that we be the stuff for PRINCE's art,  
By, and on it, to build their Thrones above us:  
Yet if Kings be the head, we be the heart;  
And know we love no soul, that doth not love us.  
Men's many passions judge the worst at length,  
And they that do so, easily know their strength:   

With bruit, and rumor, as with hope, and fear,  
You lay us low, or lift us from our earth;  
You try what nature, what our States can bear;  
By law you bind the liberties of birth;  
Making the People bellows unto Fame,  
Which ushers heavy dooms with evil name.   

Kings govern People, over-rack them not:  
Fleece us; but do not clip us to the quick.  
Think not with good, and ill, to write, and blot:  
The good doth vanish, where the ill doth stick.  
Hope not with trifles to grow popular;  
Wounds that are healed for ever leave a scar.   

To offer People shows makes us too great:  
Princes descend not, keep yourselves above.  
The Sun draws not our brows up, but our sweat:  
Your safest rack to wind us up is Love.  
To mask your vice in pomps is vainly done:  
Motes lie not hidden in beams of a Sun.   

The stamp of Sovereignty makes currant  
Home brass to buy, or sell, as well as gold:  
Yet mark! the people's standard is the warrant  
What man ought not to do, and what he should.  
Of words we are the Grammar, and of deeds  
The harvest both is ours, and eke the seeds.   

We are the glass of Power, and do reflect  
That Image back, which it to us presents:  
If Princes flatter, straight we do neglect;  
If they be fine, we see, yet seem content.  
Nor can the Throne, which Monarchs do live in,  
Shadow Kings faults, or sanctify their sin.   

Make not the Church to us an instrument  
Of bondage, to yourselves of liberty:  
Obedience there confirms your Government;  
Our Sovereigns, God's subalterns you be:  
Else while Kings fashion God in humane light,  
Men see, and scorn what is not Infinite.   

Make not the end of justice, Checquer-gain,  
It is the Liberality of Kings:  
Oppression, and Extortion ever reign,  
When Laws look more on Sceptres, than on things.  
Make crooked that line which you measure by;  
And mar the fashion straight of Monarchy.   

Why do you then profane your Royal line,  
Which we hold sacred, and dare not approach?  
Their wounds, and wrongs prove you are not divine,  
And we learn, by example, to encroach.  
Your Father's loss of eyes foretells his end:  
By craft, which lets down Princes, we ascend.   

How shall the People hope? how stay their fear,  
When old foundations daily are made new?  
Uncertain is a heavy load to bear;  
What is not constant sure was never true.  
Excess in one makes all indefinite:  
Where nothing is our own, there what delight?   

Kings then take heed! Men are the books of fate,  
Wherein your vices deep engraven lie,  
To show our God the grief of every State.  
And though great bodies do not straightways die;  
Yet know, Your errors have this proper doom,  
Even in our ruin to prepare your tomb.      


Actus Quintus: Scena Prima.  
Alaham alone.  ALaham. 

Chance now congratulates. This is indeed  
A Princely work, and fashion's nature new,  
To sacrifice the living to the dead;  
And with revenge be to a Kingdom led.  
My father, brother, sister, and my King;  
All slain for me? Obedience! Duty! Love!  
Your followers to such height when do you bring.  
Now Hala's Present, this Triumphant Robe  
Shows all Estates, things real, humours, laws,  
Yea Wives themselves owe homage unto might.  
justice in Kings cannot be definite.  
Hala, who strove, by strength of wit, and passion,  
To change, enforce, deceive, or undermine  
Me, as a Man; yet to a PRINCE's place  
Humbles her pride, and strives to purchase grace.   

When I ordained this mask, and first decreed  
A specious death for Prince, and Parent too;  
I felt once tenderness, that evil weed,  
Which some call Duty; others, Nature's Laws.  
Should I have lost a Crown for such applause?  
No, No: Each State peculiar wisdoms hath,  
The way of Princes is to hide their minds:  
For else each slave will suddenly descry  
Our inward passions, which they traffic by.   

Remissness did in me no sooner move,  
And only by a pause it self express;  
But straightway they divined remorse, or love;  
And instantly drew arguments from both,  
As if distraction to resolve were loath.  
But, like a Sultan, mixing power with art;  
When I made good my will, and only said;  
Sirs, do your charge. This intermittent passion  
Is but the print of natural affection;  
The seat of justice is above compassion:  
Straight, as if Furies breath had filled these bladders,  
With cruel hearts their charge they undertook;  
And ever after made my will their book.  
Who govern men, if they will stay above,  
Must see, and scorn the downfalls of self-love.   

Nay, mark again what glory Order yields,  
Where every spirit is fitted to his room.  
Did not distress these weak Ghosts well become?  
At which fine plays of Chance, and intercession,  
Did I relent? Or had I any sense,  
But in the glories of Omnipotence?  
These Scepter-mysteries Kings must observe,  
Or not be Kings. Are private virtues such?  
"Want great Estates no other strengths but those,  
" Which make them, for good words, good fortune lose?  
As Dogs their kennels, these their graves did frame:  
'Twas crafty power that gave such laws to fame.  
Away they went, rich in self-pity's smoke,  
No hope of praise, but by their form of death;  
Nor of revenge, but in the people's breath.  
While I ascending roam to look about,  
And in the strength of confidence, and power,  
Behold the unprosperities of doubt.   

But hark! What mournful harmony is this?  
In dole my Triumphs are. What sounds are these;  
Change! is thy nature both to grieve, and please?  
Confused echoes! whither do you fly?  
Or whence proceed? From grudge? or from applause?  
Except my will, craves Mankind any laws?  
Solemnity infers the work is ended:  
Yet hear I noise that shows unquiet motion;  
As from their ashes some new work intended.   

Now shall we know: Behold! I see one come,  
Whose looks bring woe, and horror from that Tomb.    

Actus quintus: Scena secunda.  
Nuntius. Alaham.  NVntius. 

Distract, confused, are all my inward spirits:  
Grief would complain, yet dares not speak for fear.  
Horror the place of wonder disinherits.  
Cain's next of kin so willingly to die,  
For pomp, and honour to his funeral;  
The flesh to covet that which flesh doth fly;  
This wonder went I to the Pile to see:  
As costly glories of the vanity.   

In stead of these; I saw the veils of Power,  
practice, and pomp, specious hypocrisy,  
Rent from her face, even while she did devour.  
I saw those glorious styles of Government,  
God, Laws, Religion (wherein Tyrants hide  
The wrongs they do, and all the woes we bide)  
Wounded, profaned, destroyed. Power is unwise,  
That thinks in pomp to mask her Tyrannies.  
Look where he stands! a Monster grown within,  
Still thirsty, and yet full with parents' blood:  
Both man, and Tyrant dearly understood.   Alaham. 

Hath meek devotion finished her work?  
Tell what their manner was; and how they died;  
That to the dead would thus be crucified.   Nuntius. 

The fire, though merciless, yet sometimes just,  
Hath done his part; devoured, but refined;  
Performed thy will, and yet deceived thy trust.   Alaham. 

Speak plain: What threatening mysteries be these?   Nuntius. 

echoes they be of murmurs, which possess  
The hearts of men against Powers wickedness.  
The first which burned, as Cain his next of kin,  
In blood your Brother, and your Prince in State,  
Drew wonder from men's hearts brought horror in.  
This innocent, this soul too-meek for sin,  
Yet made for others to do harm withal,  
With his self-pity tears, drew tears from us;  
His blood, compassion had; his wrong, stirred hate:  
Deceit is odious in a king's Estate.  
Repiningly he goes unto his end:  
Strange Visions rise; strange Furies haunt the flame;  
People cry out; Echo repeats his name.  
These words he spoke, even breathing out his breath:   

"Unhappy weakness! never innocent!  
" If in a Crown, yet but an instrument.  
"People! observe; this fact may make you see:  
" Excess hath ruined what itself did build:  
"But ah! the more oppressed, the more you yield.   

The next was he, whose age had reverence;  
His gesture something more than privateness;  
Guided by one, whose stately grace did move  
Compassion, even in hearts that could not love.  
As soon as these approached near the flame,  
The wind, the steam, or furies, raised their veils;  
And in their looks this image did appear:  
Each, unto other; life, to neither dear.  
These words he spoke: "Behold one that hath lost   

"Himself within; and so the world without;  
" A King that brings authority in doubt:  
"This is the fruit of Powers misgovernment.  
" People! my fall is just; yet strange your fate,  
"That, under worst, will hope for better State.   

Grief roars aloud. Your Sister yet remained,  
Helping in death to him in whom she died,  
Then going to her own, as if she gained,  
These mild words spoke with looks to heaven bent:   

"O God! 'Tis thou that sufferest here, not we:  
" Wrong doth but like itself in working thus:  
"At thy will, Lord! Revenge thyself, not us.   

The fire straight upward bears the souls in breath:  
Visions of horror circle in the flame,  
With shapes, and figures like to that of death;  
But lighter-tongued, and nimbler-winged than fame:  
Some to the Church; some to the People fly:  
A voice cries out; Revenge, and Liberty.  
Princes! Take heed; Your glory is your care;  
And Powers foundations, Strengths, not Vices, are.   Alaham. 

What change is this, that now I feel within?  
Is it disease that works this fall of spirits?  
Or works this fall of spirits my disease?  
Things seem not as they did; horror appears.  
What sin embodied, what strange sight is this?  
Doth sense bring back but what within me is?  
Or do I see those shapes which haunt the flame?  
What summons up remorse? Shall Conscience rate  
Kings deeds, to make them less than their Estate?  
Ah silly ghost! is't you that swarm about?  
Wouldst thou, that art not now, a father be?  
These body laws do with the life go out.   

What thoughts be these that do my entrails tear?  
You wandering spirits frame in me your hell;  
I feel my brother, and my sister there.  
Where is my wife? There lacks no more but she:  
Let all my own together dwell with me.    

Actus quintus: Scena tertia.  
Hala. Alaham.  HAla. 

Wife! Is that name but style of thy remorse?  
Must I go where thy silly parents be?  
Thou yet but feel'st thyself: thou shalt feel me.  
A King? And in a Throne built out of blood:  
The ashes of your own must give you power.  
Glutton Ambition! now thyself devour.   

Look in thy Conscience, that unflattering glass;  
See there the wounds of Cain, thy wrongs to me:  
Death triumphs now; And I do give it thee.  
Cain here begins to live, whilst thou dost feed  
Upon the poison, that thy wife devised:  
Thy debtor yet; but stay I will exceed.  
Now war thyself: a King, with Kings must war:  
We are too base for friends, or enemies:  
For lusts use, not for love, we women are.  
All pains of death myself in Cain did feel;  
And shall my rage aspire but to be just?  
What is but once; be long in doing must.   Alaham. 

Infernal womb! receive thy right. Of old  
This body was thine own, before I was.  
Obey my father, brother, sister, me:  
I gave their ghosts; they must give mine to thee.  
They call, I come. It was my sin alone,  
That gloried many ways to tyrannize:  
For all the dooms of ill let me suffice.   Hala. 

My Grief doth yet but roam itself in sense:  
Hala is more: Rage multiplies with use:  
These do but mourn; I must revenge abuse.  
even through thy sense will I send in thine own:  
This child, that by thee lived shall in thee die;  
In this will Cain, and I possess thy Throne.   Alaham. 

Ah powerful God! why dost thou Thunders spend  
(By chance, or without vengeance) on the plants;  
Since it is Man, not Trees, that doth offend?  
Sirs! tear the roof; perfect the work of Power:  
I have no being, while she there doth sit,  
Subject in sex, but King, in rage of wit.   Hala. 

Women! Behold, our sex I now improve:  
Malice were vain, if Kings could it subdue:  
This rage revives the dead; restores my love.   Alaham. 

Is this Ormus? Or is Ormus my hell,  
Where only Furies, and not Men, do dwell?  
The poison works; I feel my spirits faint;  
I must beseech; my Power is but complaint.   

Yet Wit! thou know'st what every Power can do;  
Be Strength to me. Can Mothers kill their own?  
self-love will spare them. Why should I request?  
Words do inflame. But ah! it Hala is:  
I must entreat. Her malice keeps no fashion:  
Though she have all, that all is but one Passion.  
If I entreat; doth sense show where to wound?  
I owe it mine; doth that give malice Power?   

Ah God!  
What shall I do, that both within, and out,  
Authority have lost? Unused to request,  
Yet must, and will: Yet, even in doing, know;  
Impossible, adds but more scorn to woe.  
Hala! I do, with Nature, beg for thine.  
Harm me alone thy Husband, and thy King.  
Horror hath her degrees: there is excess  
In all Revenge, that may be done with less.   Hala. 

Beyond the rule of Law, but not of Love,  
This child was borne; this not in Love, but Law.  
Before thy wrongs I had my passions free:  
And in revenge shall aught else limit me?   Alaham. 

Innocent, thine own, too young for hate, or fear:  
His death doth only execration bear.   Hala. 

In him thou art: in him I plague my lust,  
Where Sense, and Law, were traitors to affection.  
Bear children only but to Cain I must.   Alaham. 

Disease, or Grief (I know not which) or both:  
Languish my powers: Hala! some respite give;  
Spare him a while: I have not long to live.   Hala. 

Hala! make haste to multiply this wretch;  
I must have both his sense, and judgement free:  
'Tis horror, not disease, that honours me.   

"All you superior Powers, which from above  
" Behold this earth; and earthly mischief's rod!  
"Cast hence your eyes. These works are but for two:  
" For him, that suffers; and for me, that do.   

Hala! then on: that Alaham may enrage,  
Enrage thou first. New married now am I:  
Remorse doth but for men in ambush lie.   

She mistaking, kills Cain's child.  Alaham. 

Earth! Stand'st thou fast under this ugliness?  
And fall'st not down to that infernal deep,  
Which fears (perchance) worse than itself to keep?  
Eyes! close your lids: There is no more to do:  
Yet know, you have seen that before you die,  
Which no Age will believe; One worse than I.   Hala. 

Ah cursed Mortality! So soon put out?  
And have I lost the glory of Revenge,  
If Fame find greater, as she goes about?  
This blood, that bloody throat should have devoured:  
Rage lacked in this. Where is the place for scorn;  
Since woes be dead in him, as soon as borne?  
Flesh is too brittle mould for brave excess.  
yet let these scraps give nourishment to Fame;  
Since Love, and Rage this model may express.    

She finds her error.  

But what is this? Wake I, or do I dream?  
If changed; with whom, or into whom am I?  
Doth Horror dazzle sense, or multiply?  
What world is this? Where's Alaham? where my Son?  
Cain! rise, and tell what Furies raised be.  
Dost Thou remain alive? And art Thou dead?  
Who did this deed? None answers. It was I.    

Verses here do lengthen.  

And am I thus misted to lose Child, Husband, Fame,  
Honour, Revenge, my Cain, my Harms, and Fury too?  
And cannot harm myself, that those harms to me do.  
Must I forgive thee, Hala! that none else forgive?  
Scarce trembling doth my heart conceive this hateful deed?  
Do eyes behold this work, and neither weep, nor bleed?  
Shall I complain of Heaven, where fools lay self-despair?  
Or Hell shall I invoke, which ill hath everywhere?  
Shall I remain alive, and turn my rage to woe?  
Shall I distinguish Guilt, where Chance doth overthrow?   

Is Cain no more? Is it no more to love?  
Hath Hala's hate made many hearts to bleed,  
Upon the ruins of her love to feed?  
Fury! art thou so long in getting up  
Above the mists of poor self-pity Tears?  
Shall Rage be still a prisoner under fears?   

Look! here is death: Return'st thou me remorse?  
Here my beloved: Can sighs recall him back?  
Here him I loathe: Can scorn become his wrack?  
myself yet live: Must Fury burn without?  
These were in me: May Nature live in one?  
What's due to death? Even Rage that grows to doubt.   

Come Infant! Here is Empire. Let us live.  
This work is mine: Hell thanks, and envies me;  
And lo! her Spirits, before I come, I see.  
Discord, Sedition, Rage, you Furies all!  
Possess again the State, where you began:  
The Woman you; 'Tis we deceive the Man.  
Enter upon this large infernal womb;  
Repay yourselves; this mould did make you all.  
Why do you stay? Lead me the way: I come.  
Flesh is too weak, it hath satiety;  
Lust, intermittent here; and Fury, poor;  
Rage, hath respects; Desires, here weary be.  
Leave Man this mean: Let us live in excess;  
Where power is more, although the joys be less.  
This Child is none of mine: I had no part:  
Bear him I did with loathing, not desire:  
My womb perchance did yield, but not my heart.  
With Alaham his father he must dwell:  
I will go down, and change this Ghost with hell.      


This Tragedy, called Alaham, may be printed, this 23. of june, 1632.  Henry Herbert.  

THE SPEAKERS NAMES.  

SOLIMAN.  
MUSTAPHA.  
ROSTEN.  
ACHMAT.  
ROSSA.  
ZANGER.  
CAMENA.  
BEGLARBY NVNTIVS.  
PRIEST.