THE SIEGE OF RHODES Made a Representation by the Art of Prospective in Scenes, And the Story sung in Recitative Music.  
At the Cockpit in DRURY Lane.  
LONDON, Printed by J. M. for Henry Herringman, and are to be sold at his Shop, at the Sign of the Anchor, on the Lower-walk in the New-Exchange, 1658.   

To the Reader.  
I May receive disadvantage by this Address designed for excuses; for it will too hastily put you in mind that errors are not far off when excuses are at hand; this refers to our Representation: and some may be willing to be led to find the blemishes of it; but would be left to their own conduct to discover the beauties, if there be any. Yet I may forewarn you that the defects which I intent to excuse are chiefly such, as you cannot reform but only with your Purse; that is, by building us a larger Room; a design which we began and shall not be left for you to finish, because we have observed that many who are liberal of their understanding when they would issue it out towards discovery of imperfections, have not always Money to expend in things necessary towards the making up of perfection.  
It has been often wished that our Scenes (we having obliged ourselves to the variety of Five changes, according to the Ancient Dramatic distinctions made for time) had not been confined to eleven foot in height, and about fifteen in depth, including the places of passage reserved for the Music. This is so narrow an allowance for the Fleet of Solyman the Magnicent, his Army, the Island of Rhodes, and the varieties attending the Siege of the City; that I fear you will think, we invite you to such a contracted Trifle as that of the Caesars carved upon a Nut.  
As these Limits have hindered the splendour of our Scene, so we are like to give no great satisfaction in the quantity of our Argument, which is in story very copious; but shrinks to a small narration here, because we could not convey it by more than seven Persons; being constrained to prevent the length of Recitative Music, as well as to conserve, without encumbrance, the narrowness of the place. Therefore you cannot expect the chief Ornaments belonging to a History Drammatically digested into Turns and Counterturns, to double Walks, and interweavings of design.  
This is expressed to forbid your excess of expectation; but we must take care not to deter you from the hope of some satisfaction; for that were, not only to hang out no Bush, but likewise to shut up our Doors. Therefore, as you have heard what kind of excellencies you should not expect: So I will in brief (I hope without vanity) give you encouragement, by telling you, there are some things at least excusable which you may resolve to meet.  
We conceive, it will not be unacceptable to you if we recompense the narrowness of the Room, by containing in it so much as could be conveniently accomplished by Art and Industry: which will not be doubted in the Scenes by those who can judge that kind of Illustration & know the excellency of Mr. John Web, who designed and ordered it. The Music was composed, and both the Vocal and Instrumental is exercised by the most transcendent of England in that Art, & perhaps not unequal to the best masters abroad; but being Recitative, and therefore unpractised here; though of great reputation amongst other Nations, the very attempt of it is an obligation to our own. The Story represented (which will not require much apology because it expects but little praise) is Heroical, and not withstanding the continual hurry and busy agitations of a hot Siege, is (I hope) intelligibly conveyed to advance the Characters of Virtue in the shapes of Valour and conjugal Love. And though the main Argument hath but a single Walk, yet perhaps the movings of it will not seem unpleasant. You may inquire, being a Reader, why in an heroic Argument my numbers are so often diversified and fall into short fractions; considering that a continuation of the usual length of English verse would appear more Heroical in reading. But when you are an Auditor you will find that in this, I rather deserve approbation then need excuse; for frequent alterations of measure (which cannot be so unpleasant to him that reads as troublesome to him that writes) are necessary to Recitative Music for variation of Ayres. If what I have said, be taken for excuses, I have my intent; because excuses are not always signs of Error, but are often modest explanations▪ of things that might otherwise be mistaken. But I have said so much to vindicate myself from having occasion to be excused for the Poem, that it brings me at last to ask pardon for the length of the Epistle.  
August 17. 1656. Will. D'avenant.   

The Persons Represented.  

Solyman The Magnificent.  
Villerius Grand Master of Rhodes.  
Alphonso A Cicilian Duke.  
Admiral Of Rhodes▪  
Pyrrhus Bassa.  
Mustapha Bassa.  
janthe Wife to Alphonso.   
The Scene, RHODES.   

The SIEGE OF RHODES.  
THe Ornament which encompassed the Scene, consisted of several Columns, of gross Rustic work; which bore up a large Frieze. In the middle of the Frieze was a Compartment, wherein was written RHODES. The Compartment was supported by divers Habiliments of War; intermixed with the Military Ensigns of those several Nations who were famous for defence of that Island; which were the French, Germans, and Spaniards, the Italians, Avergnois, and English: The Renown of the English valour made the Grand Master Villerius, to select their Station to be most frequently commanded by himself. The principal enrichment of the Frieze was a Crimson Drapery, whereon several Trophies of Arms were fixed, Those on the Right hand, representing such as are chiefly in use amongst the Western Nations; together with the proper cognisance of the Order of the Rhodian Knights; and on the left, such as are most esteemed in the Eastern Countries; and on an Antique Shield the Crescent of the Ottomans.  

The Scene before the First Entry.  
THe Curtain being drawn up, a lightsome Sky appeared, discovering a Maritime Coast, full of craggy Rocks, and high Cliffs, with several Verdure's naturally growing upon such Situations; and afar off, the true Prospect of the City RHODES, when it was in prosperous estate: with so much view of the Gardens and Hills about it, as the narrowness of the Room could allow the Scene. In that part of the Horizon, terminated by the Sea, was represented the Turkish Fleet making towards a Promontory some few miles distant from the Town.   

The First Entry.  
The ENTRY is prepared by Instrumental Music.  Enter Admiral. Admire. 

ARm, Arm, Villerius, Arm!  
Thou hast no leisure to grow old;  
Those now must feel thy courage warm,  
Who think thy blood is cold.   Enter Villerius. Viller. 

Our Admiral from Sea?  
What storm transporteth thee?  
Or bring'st thou storms that can do more  
Than drive an Admiral on shore?   Admire. 

Arm, Arm, the Bassa's Fleet appears;  
To Rhodes his Course from Chios steers;  
Her shady wings to distant sight,  
Spread like the Curtains of the Night.  
Each Squadron thicker and still darker grows;  
The Fleet like many floating Forests shows,   Viller. 

Arm, Arm! Let our Drums beat  
To all our Outguards, a Retreat;  
And to our Main Guards add  
Files double lined from the Parade.  
Send Horse to drive the Fields;  
Prevent what ripening Summer yields.  
To all the Foe would save  
Set fire, or give a secret Grave.   Admire. 

I'll to our Galley's haste,  
Untackle every Mast;  
Hale 'em within the Peer,  
To range and chain 'em there,  
And then behind St Nic'las Cliffs  
Shelter our Brigants, Land our Skiffs.   Viller. 

Our Field and Bulwark-Cannon mount with haste;  
Fix to their Blocks their brazen bodies fast:  
Whilst to the Foe their Iron Entrails fly:  
Display our Colours, raise our Standard high!   Exit Adm. Enter Alphonso. Alpon. 

What various Noises do mines ears invade?  
And have a Consort of confusion made?  
The shriller Trumpet, and tempestuous Drum:  
The deaf'ning clamour from the Canon's womb;  
Which through the Air like sudden Thunder breaks,  
Seems calm to Soldier's shouts and womens' shrieks.  
What danger (Reverend Lord) does this portend?   Viller. 
Danger begins what must in honour end.  Alphon. 
What visards does it wear?  Viller. 

Such, gentle Prince,  
As cannot fright, but yet must warn you hence.  
What can to Rhodes more fatally appear  
Then the bright Crescents which those Ensigns wear?  
Wise Emblems that increasing Empire show;  
Which must be still in Nonage and still grow.  
All these are yet but the forerunning Van  
Of the prodigious Gross or Solyman.   Alphon. 

Pale show those Crescents to our bloody Cross!  
Sink not the Western Kingdoms in our loss?  
Will not the Austrian Eagle moult her Wings,  
That long hath hovered o'er the gallic Kings?  
Whose Lilies too will whither when we fade;  
And 'th' English Lion shrink into a shade.   Viller. 

Thou seest not, whilst so young and guiltless too,  
That Kings mean seldom what their Statesmen do,  
Who measure not the compass of a Crown  
To fit the Head that wears it but their own;  
Still hindering peace, because they Steward's are,  
Without account, to that wild Spender, War.  
Still Christian Wars they will pursue, and boast  
Unjust successes gained, whilst Rhodes is lost:  
Whilst we build Monuments of Death, to shame  
Those who forsook us in the Chase of Fame.   Alphon. 

We will endure the Colds of Court-delays;  
Honour grows warm in Airy Vests of Praise.  
On Rocky Rhodes we will like Rocks abide:   Viller. 

Away, away, and hasten to thy Bride!  
'Tis scarce a Month since from thy Nuptial Rites  
Thou cam'st to honour here our Rhodian Knights  
To dignify our sacred annual Feast:  
We love to Lodge, not to entomb a Guest.  
Honour must yield where Reason should prevail.  
A Board, A board, and hoist up every Sail  
What gathers any Wind for Cicilie!  
Men lose their virtue's Pattern losing thee.  
Thy Bride doth yield her Sex no less a Light:  
But, thy life gone, will set in endless Night.  
Ye must like Stars shine long ere ye expire!   Alphon. 

Honour, is colder Virtue set on fire:  
My honour lost, her Love would soon decay:  
Here for my Tomb or Triumph I will stay.  
My Sword against proud Solyman I draw,  
His cursed Prophet and his sensual Law.  
Chorus, Our Swords against proud Solyman we draw,  
His cursed Prophet and his sensual Law.   Exeunt. 

Chorus. By Soldiers of several Nations.  

1.  
Come ye termagant Turks,  
If your Bassa dare Land ye,  
Whilst the Wine bravely works  
That was brought us from Candy.   

2.  
Wealth, the least of our care is,  
For the Poor ne'er are undone;  
A vous, Monsieur of Paris,  
To the Back-Swords of London.   

3.  
Diego, thou, in a trice,  
Shalt advance thy lean Belly.  
For their Hens and their Rice  
Make Pillau like a jelly.   

4.  
Let 'em Land fine and free;  
For my Cap though an old one,  
Such a Turban shall be,  
Thou wilt think it a Gold one.   

5.  
It is seven to one odds,  
They had safer sailed by us:  
whilst our Wine lasts in Rhodes.  
They shall water at Chios.   
End of the first Entry.    

The Second Entry.  
The Entry is again prepared by Instrumental Music.  The Scene is changed, and the City, Rhodes, appears beleaguered at Sea and Land. Enter Villerius and Admiral. Admire. 
THe blood of Rhodes grows cold! Life must expire!  Viller. 
The Duke still warms it with his valour's fire!  Admire. 

If he has much in Honour's presence done,  
Has saved our Ensigns or has others won,  
Then he but well by your Example wrought;  
Who well in Honour's School his Childhood taught,   Viller. 

The Foe three Moons tempestuously has spent  
Where we will never yield nor he relent;  
Still we, but raise what must be beaten down;  
Defending Walls, yet cannot keep the Town;  
Venturing last Stakes where we can nothing win;  
And, shutting slaughter out, keep Famine in.   Admire. 

How oft and vainly Rhodes for succour waits  
From triple Diadems, and Scarlet Hats?  
Rome keeps her Gold, cheaply her Warriors pays,  
At first with Blessings, and at last with praise.   Viller. 

By Armies, stovved in Fleets, exhausted Spain  
Leaves half her Land unploughed, to plough the Main;  
And still would more of the old World subdue,  
As if unsatisfied with all the New.   Admire. 

France strives to have her Lilies grow as fair  
In others Realms as where they Native are.   Viller. 

The English Lion ever loves to change  
His Walks, and in remoter Forests range.   Chorus. 

All gaining vainly from each other's loss;  
Whilst still the Crescent drives away the Cross.   Enter Alphonso. Alphon. 

1.  
How bravely fought the fiery French.  
Their Bulwark being stormed?  
The colder Almans kept their Trench,  
By more than Valour warmed.   

2.  
The grave Italians paused and fought,  
The solemn Spaniards too;  
Study'ng more Deaths than could be wrought  
By what the rash could do.   

3.  
Th' Avergnian Colours high were raised,  
Twice ta'en, and twice relieved.  
Our Foes, like friends to Valour, praised  
The mischiefs they received.   

4.  
The cheerful English got renown;  
Fought merrily and fast:  
‛ lies time, they cried to mow them down,  
Wars Harvest cannot last.   

5.  
If Death be rest, here let us die,  
Where weariness is all  
We daily get by Victory,  
Who must by Famine fall.   

6.  
Great Solyman is landed now;  
All Fate he seems to be;  
And brings those Tempests in his Brow  
Which he deserved at Sea.   Viller. 

He can at most but once prevail,  
Though armed with Nations that were brought by more  
Gross Galleys than would serve to hale  
This Island to the Lycian Shore.   Adm. 

Let us a pace do worthily and give  
Our Story length, though long we cannot live.   Chorus. 

So greatly do, that being dead,  
Brave Wonders may be wrought  
By such as shall our Story read  
And study how we fought.   Exeunt. Enter Solyman, Pyrrhus. Soly. 

What sudden halt hath stayed thy swift Renown;  
O're-running Kingdoms, stopping at a Town?  
He that will win the Prize in Honour's Race  
Must nearer to the Goal still mend his pace.  
If Age thou feel'st, the active Camp forbear;  
In sleepy City's rest, the Caves of fear.  
Thy mind was never valiant, if, when old,  
Thy Courage cools because thy blood is cold.   Pyrrhus. 

How can ambitious Manhood be expressed  
More than by marks of our disdain of rest?  
What less than toils incessant can, despite  
Of Canon, raise these Mounts to Castle-height?  
Or less than utmost or unwearyed strength  
Can draw these Lines of Battery to that length?   Soly. 

The toils of Ants, and Molehills raised, in scorn  
Of Labour, to be leveled with a Spurn.  
These are the Pyramids that show your pains;  
But of your Army's valour, where remains  
One Trophy to excuse a Bassa's boast?   Pirrh. 

Valour may reckon what she bravely lost;  
Not from Successes all her Count does raise:  
By life well lost we gain a share of praise.  
If we in dangers Glass all Valour see,  
And Death the farthest step of danger be,  
Behold our Mount of Bodies made a Grave▪  
And prize our loss by what we scorned to save.   Soly. 

Away! range all the Camp for an Assault!  
Tell them, they tread in Graves who make a halt.  
Fat Slaves, who have been lulled to a Disease;  
Crammed out of breath, and crippled by their ease!  
Whose active Fathers leapt o'er Walls too high  
For them to climb: Hence, from my anger fly:  
Which is too worthy for thee being mine,  
And must be quenched by Rhodian blood or thine.   Exit Pyrrhus, bowing. 

In Honour's Orb the Christians shine;  
Their light in War does still increase;  
Though oft misled by mists of Wine,  
Or blinder love the Crime of Peace.  
Bold in Adult'ries frequent change;  
And every loud expensive Vice;  
Ebbing out wealth by ways as strange  
As it flowed in by a varice.  
Thus vildly they dare live, and yet dare die.  
If Courage be a virtue, 'tis allowed  
But to those few on whom our Crowns rely,  
And is condemned as madness in the Crowd.   Enter Mustapha, janthe veiled. Musta. 

Great Sultan, Hail! though here at Land  
Lost Fools in opposition in stand;  
Yet thou at Sea dost all command.   Soly. 
What is it thou wouldst show, and yet dost shroud?  Musta. 

I bring the Morning pictured in a Cloud;  
A Wealth more worth than all the Sea does hide;  
Or Courts display in their triumphant pride.   Soly. 

Thou seem'st to bring the Daughter of the Night;  
And giv'st her many Stars to make her bright.  
Dispatch my wonder and relate her Story.   Musta. 

'Tis full of Fate, and yet has much of Glory.  
A Squadron of our Galleys that did ply,  
West from this Coast, met two of Sicily;  
Both fraught to furnish Rhodes, we gave 'em chase;  
And had, but for our Number, met disgrace.  
For, grappling, they maintained a bloody Fight,  
Which did begin with Day and end with Night.  
And though this bashful Lady than did wear  
Her Face still veiled, her valour did appear:  
She urged their courage when they boldly Fought;  
And many shunned the dangers, which she sought.   Soly. 

Where are the limits thou wouldst set for praise?  
Or to what height wilt thou my wonder raise?   Must. 

This is janthe, the Cicilian Flower,  
Sweeter than Buds unfolded in a shower,  
Bride to Alphonso, who in Rhodes so long  
The Theme has been of each Heroic Song;  
And she for his relief those Galleys fraught;  
Both stowed with what her dower and Jewels bought.   Soly. 

O wondrous virtue of a Christian Wife!  
Adven'tring lives support and then her Life  
To save her ruined Lord! Bid her unveil!   janthe steps back. janthe. 

It were more honour, Sultan, to assail  
A public strength against thy forces bent  
Then to unwall this private Tenement;  
To which no Monarch but my Lord has right;  
Nor will it yield to Treaty or to Might:  
Where Heaven's great Law defends him from surprise:  
This Curtain only opens to his eyes.   Soly. 

If Beauty veiled so virtuous be,  
'Tis more than Christian Husbands know;  
Whose Ladies wear their faces free;  
Which they to more than Husband show.   janthe. 

Your Bassa swore, and by his dreadful Law,  
None but my Lords dear hand this Veil should draw;  
And that to Rhodes I should conducted be  
To take my share of all his destiny:  
Else I had quickly found  
Sure means to get some wound,  
Which would in Death's cold Arms  
My honour instant safety give  
From all those rude Alarms  
Which keep it waking whilst I live.   Soly. 

Hast thou engaged our Prophet's plight  
To keep her Beauty from my sight;  
And to conduct her Person free  
To harbour with mine Enemy?   Musta. 

Virtue constrained the privildge I gave:  
Shall I for sacred Virtue pardon crave?   Soly. 

I envy not the conquests of thy Sword:  
Thrive still in wicked War;  
But, Slave, how didst thou dare,  
In virtuous Love, thus to transcend thy Lord?  
Thou didst thy utmost virtue show:  
Yet somewhat more does rest,  
Not yet by thee expressed;  
Which virtue left for me to do.  
Thou great example of a Christian Wife,  
Enjoy thy Lord and give him happy Life.  
Thy Galleys with their freight,  
For which the Hungry wait,  
Shall straight to Rhodes conducted be;  
And as thy passage to him shall be free,  
So both my safe return to Cicilie.   janthe. 

May Solyman be ever far  
From impious honours of the War;  
Since worthy to receive renown  
From things repaired not overthrown.  
And when in peace his virtue thrives,  
Let all the race of Loyal Wives  
Sing this his bounty to his Glory  
And teach their Princes by his story:  
Of which, if any Victors be,  
Let them, because he conquered me,  
Strip cheerfully each others Brow,  
And at his feet their Laurel throw.   Soly. 

Straight to the Port her Galleys steer;  
Then hale the Sentry at the Peer.  
And though our Flags ne'er use to bow,  
They shall do Virtue homage now.  
Give Fire still as she passes by,  
And let our Streamers lower fly.   Exeunt several ways▪ 

Chorus of Women.  

1.  
LEt us live, live! for being dead,  
The pretty Spots,  
Ribbons and Knots,  
And the fine French dress for the Head;  
No Lady wears upon her  
In the cold, cold, bed of Honour.  
Beat down our Grottoes, and hew down our Bowers,  
Dig up our Arbours, and root up our Flowers.  
Our Gardens are Bulwarks▪ and Bastions become;  
Then hang up our Lutes, we must sing to the Drum.   

2.  
Our Patches and our Curls  
(So exact in each Station)  
Our Powders and our Purls  
Are now out of Fashion.  
Hence with our Needles, and give us your Spades;  
We, that were Ladies, grow course as our Maids.  
Our Coaches have driven us to Balls at the Court;  
We now must drive Barrows to earth up the Port,   
The End of the second Entry.    

The Third Entry.  
The ENTRY is again prepared by Instrumental Music.  The further part of the Scene is opened, and a Royal Pavilion appears displayed; representing Soliman's Imperial Throne; and about it are discerned the Quarters of his Bassa's, and Inferior Officers. Enter Soliman, Pyrrhus, Mustapha. Solym. 

Pirrhus', Draw up our Army wide!  
Then from the Gross two strong Reserves divide;  
And spread the wings;  
As if we were to fight,  
In the lost Rhodians sight,  
With all the Western Kings!  
Each wing with Janissaries line;  
The Right and Left to Hally's Sons assign;  
The Gross to Zangiban▪  
The Main Artillery  
With Mustapha shall be:  
Bring thou the Rear, We lead the Van.   Pyrrhus. 

It shall be done as early as the Dawn;  
As if the Figure by thy hand were drawn.   Mustap. 

We wish that we, to ease thee, could prevent  
All thy Commands, by guessing thy intent.   Soly. 

These Rhodians, who of Honour boast,  
A loss excuse, when bravely lost:  
Now they may bravely lose their Rhodes,  
Which never played against such odds.  
To morrow let them see our strength, and weep  
Whilst they their want of losing blame;  
Their valiant folly strives too long to keep  
What might be rendered without shame.   Pyrrhus. 

'Tis well our valiant Prophet did  
In us not only loss forbid,  
But has enjoined us still to get.  
Empire must move a pace,  
When she begins the Race,  
And apter is for wings than feet.   Mustap. 

They vainly interrupt our speed.  
And civil Reason lack,  
To know they should go back  
When we determine to proceed.   Pyrrhus. 

When to all Rhodes our Army does appear  
Shall we then make a sudden halt,  
And give a general Assault?   Soly. 

Pyrrhus not yet, janthe being there▪  
Let them our Valour, by our Mercy prize.  
The respite of this day  
To virtuous Love shall pay  
A debt long due for all my Victories.   Must. 

If virtuous Beauty can attain such grace  
Whilst she a Captive was, and hid,  
What wisdom can his Love forbid  
When virtue's free and Beauty shows her Face?   Soly. 

Dispatch a Trumpet to the Town;  
Summon janthe to be gone  
Safe with her Lord. When both are free  
And in their Course to Sicily,  
Then Rhodes shall for that valour mourn  
Which stops the haste of our return.   Pyrrhus. 

Those that in Grecian Quarries wrought,  
And pioneers from Lycia brought,  
Who like a Nation in a throng appear,  
So great their number is, are landed here:  
Where shall they work?   Soly. 

Upon Philermus Hill.  
There, ere this Moon her Circle fills with days,  
They shall, by punish sloth and cherished skill,  
A spacious Palace in a Castle raise:  
A Neighbourhood within the Rhodians view;  
Where, if my anger cannot them subdue.  
My patience shall out-wait them, whilst they long  
Attend to see weak Princes make them strong:  
There I'll grow old, and die too, if they have  
The secret art to Fast me to my Grave.   Exeunt. The Scene is changed to that of the Town Besieged. Enter Villerius, Admiral, Alphonso, janthe. Vill. 

WHen we, janthe, would this act commend,  
We know no more how to begin  
Then we should do, if we were in,  
How, suddenly, to make an end.   Adm. 

What love was yours which these strong bars of Fate  
Were all too weak to separate?  
Which Seas & Storms could not divide  
Nor all the dreadful Turkish pride?  
Which passed secure though not unseen  
Even double Guards of Death that lay between.   Vill. 

What more could Honour for fair Virtue do?  
What could Alphonso venture more for you?   Adm. 

With wonder & with shame we must confess,  
All we ourselves can do for Rhodes, is less.   Vill. 

Nor did your love and courage act alone,  
Your bounty too has no less wonders done.  
And for our Guard you have brought wisely down  
A Troop of Virtues to defend the Town:  
The only Troop that can a Town defend;  
Which Heaven before for ruin did intend.   Adm. 

Look here ye Western Monarchs, look with shame,  
Who fear not a remote, though common Foe;  
The Cabinet of one illustrious Dame  
Does more than your Exchequers joined did do.   Alphon. 

Indeed I think, janthe, few  
So young and flourishing as you,  
Whose Beauties might so well adorn  
The Jewels which by them are worn,  
Did ever Muskets for them take,  
Nor of their Pearls did Bullets make.   janthe. 

When you my Lord are shut up here  
Expense of treasure must appear  
So far from bounty, that, alas,  
It covetous advantage was:  
For with small cost I sought to save  
Even all the Treasure that I have.  
Who would not all her trifling Jewels give,  
Which but from Number can their worth derive,  
If she could purchase or redeem with them  
One great inestimable Gem?   Adam. 
Oh ripe perfection in a Breast so young  Vill. 
Virtue has tuned her heart, and Wit her tongue  Adm. 

Though Rhodes no pleasure can allow,  
I dare secure the safety of it now;  
All will so labour to save you  
As that will save the City too.   janthe. 

Alas, the utmost I have done  
More than a just reward has won,  
If by my Lord and you it be but thought  
I had the care, to serve him as I ought.   Vill. 

Brave Duke farewell, the Scouts for Orders wait,  
And the Parade does fill.   Alphon. 

Great Master, I'll attend your pleasure straight,  
And strive to serve your will. Exeunt, Vill. Adm.  
janthe after all this praise  
W ch, Fame so fully to you pays,  
For that which all the world beside  
Admires you, I alone must chide.  
Are you that kind and virtuous Wife,  
Who thus expose your Husband's Life?  
The hazards, both at Land and Sea,  
Through which so boldly thou hast run,  
Did more assault and threaten me  
Then all the Sultan could have done.  
Thy dangers, could, I them have seen,  
Would not to me have dangers been,  
But certain death: Now thou are here  
A danger worse than death I fear.  
Thou hast, janthe, honour won,  
But mine, alas, will be undone:  
For as thou valiant were't for me,  
I shall a Coward grow for thee.   janthe. 

Take heed Alphonso, for this care of me,  
Will to my Fame injurious be;  
Your love will brighter by it shine,  
But it eclipses mine.  
Since I would here before, or with you fall,  
Death needs but because when he means to call.   Alphon. 

janthe, even in this you shall command.  
And this my strongest passion guide;  
Your virtue will not be denied:  
It could even Solyman himself withstand;  
To whom it did so beauteous show  
It seemed to civilize a barbarous Foe.  
Of this your strange escape, janthe say,  
Briefly the motive and the way.   janthe. 

Did I not tell you how we fought,  
How I was taken, and how brought  
Before great Solyman? but there  
I think we interrupted were.   Alpho. 

Yes, but we will not be so here,  
Should Solyman himself appear.   janthe. 

It seems that what the Bassa of me said,  
Had some respect and admiration bred  
In Solyman; and this to me increased  
The jealousies which Honour did suggest.  
All that of Turks and Tyrants I had heard,  
But that I feared not Death, I should have feared.  
ay, to excuse my Voyage, urged my Love  
To your high worth; which did such pity move  
That straight his usage did reclaim my fear;  
He seemed in civil France, and Monarch there:  
For soon my Person, Galleys, Fraight, were free  
By his command.   Alphon. 
O wondrous Enemy!  janthe. 
These are the smallest Gifts his bounty knew.  Alp. 
What could he give you more?  janthe. 

He gave me you;  
And you may homewards now securely go  
Through all his Fleet.   Alph. 
But Honour says not so.  janthe. 

If that forbid it you shall never see  
That I and that will disagree:  
Honour will speak the same to me.   Alph. 

This Christian Turk amazes me, my Dear!  
How long janthe stayed you there?   janthe. 
Two days with Mustapha.  Alph. 

How do you say?  
Two days, and two whole nights? alas▪   janth. 

That it, my Lord, no longer was,  
Is such a mercy, as too long I stay,  
ere at the Altar thanks to Heaven I pay.   Alph. 
To Heaven, Confession should prepare the way.  Exit janthe. 

She is all Harmony and fair as light  
But brings me discord and the Clouds of night.  
And Solyman does think heavens' joys to be  
In Women not so fair as she.  
'Tis strange! Dismiss so fair an Enemy?  
She was his own by right of War,  
We are his Dogs, and such as she, his Angels are.  
O wondrous Turkish chastity!  
Her Galleys, freight, and those to send  
Into a Town which he would take!  
Are we besieged then by a friend?  
Could Honour such a Present make,  
Then when his Honour is at stake?  
Against itself, does Honour booty play?  
We have the liberty to go away!  
Strange above miracle! But who can say  
If in his hands we once should be  
What would become of her? For what of me  
Though Love is blind, even Love may see.  
Come back my thoughts, you must not rove!  
For sure janthe does Alphonso love.  
Oh Solyman this mystic act of thine,  
Does all my quiet undermine:  
But on thy Troops, if not on Thee,  
This Sword my cure and my revenge shall be.   Exit. 

Chorus. Of Men and Women.  Men. 

YE wives all that are, and wives that would be,  
Unlearn all ye learned here, of one another.  
And all ye have learned of an Aunt or a Mother,  
Then straight hither come, a New Pattern to see:  
Which in a good humour kind Fortune did send;  
A Glass for your minds as well as your faces;  
Make haste then, and break your own Looking-glasses:  
If you see but yourselves, you'll never amend.  
Women. You, that would teach us what your wives ought to do,  
Take heed; there's a pattern in Town too for you.  
Be you but Alphonso's, and we  
Perhaps janthes will be.   Men. 

Be you but janthes, and we  
Alphonso's a while will be.   Both. 

Let both sides begin then, rather than neither;  
Let's both join our hands, and both mend together.   
End of the third Entry.    

The Fourth Entry.  
The Entry is again prepared by Instrumental Music.  The Scene is varied to the Prospect of Mount Philermus: Artificers appearing at work about that Castle which was there, with wonderful expedition, erected by Solyman. His great Army is discovered in the Plain below, drawn up in Battalia; as if it were prepared for a general Assault. Enter Solyman, Pyrrhus, Mustapha. Solyman. 

REfuse my Passport, and resolve to die?  
Only for fashion's sake, for company?  
Oh costly scruples! But I'll try to be,  
Thou stubborn Honour, obstinate as Thee.  
My Power thou shalt not vanquish by thy will;  
I will enforce to live whom thou wouldst kill.   Pyrrhus. 

They in to morrows storm will change their mind;  
Then, though too late instructed, they shall find.  
That those who your protection dare reject  
No humane Power dares venture to protect.  
They are not Foes, but Rebels, who withstand  
The power that does their Fate command.   Soly. 

Oh Mustapha, our strength we measure ill;  
We want the half of what we think we have;  
For we enjoy the Beastlike power to kill,  
But not the Godlike power to save.  
Who laughs at death, laughs at our highest power;  
The valiant man is his own Emperor.   Musta. 

Your power to save, you have to them made known,  
Who scorned it with ingrateful pride;  
Now, how you can destroy, must next be shown;  
And that the Christian world has tried.   Soly. 

'Tis such a single pair  
As only equal are  
Unto themselves; but many steps above  
All others who attempt to make up Love.  
Their Lives will noble History afford,  
And must adorn my Sceptre, not my Sword.  
My strength in vain has with their virtue strove;  
In vain their hate would overcome my love.  
My favours I'll compel them to receive.  
Go Mustapha, and strictest Orders give,  
Through all the Camp, that in Assault they spare  
(And in the Sack of this presumptuous Town)  
The lives of these two strangers, with a care  
Above the preservation of their own.  
Alphonso has so oft his courage shown,  
That he to all but Cowards must be known.  
janthe is so fair, that none can be  
Mistaken, amongst thousands, which is she.   Exeunt▪ The Scene returns to that of the Town Besieged. Enter Alphonso, janthe. janthe. 

Alphonso, Now the danger grows so near,  
Give her, that loves you, leave to fear.  
Nor do I blush this passion to confess,  
Since it for object has no less  
Than even your liberty, or life;  
I fear not as a woman but a wife.  
We were too proud no use to make  
Of Soliman's obliging proffer;  
For why should Honour scorn to take  
What Honour's self does to it offer.   Alph. 

To be o'ercome by his victorious Sword,  
Will comfort to our fall afford:  
Our strength may yield to his; but 'tis not fit  
Our virtue should to his submit;  
In that, janthe, I must be  
Advanced, and greater far than he.   janthe. 

Fighting with him who strives to be your friend,  
You not with Virtue but with power contend.   Alph. 

Forbid it Heaven our friends should think that we  
Did merit friendship from an Enemy.   janthe. 
He is a Foe to Rhodes, and not to you.  Alph. 
In Rhodes besieged we must be Rhodians too.  janthe. 
'Twas Fortune that engaged you in this War.  Alph. 
'Twas Providence! Heaven's Prisoners here we are.  janthe. 

That Providence our freedom does restore;  
The hand that shut, now opens us the Door.   Alph. 

Had Heaven that Passport for our freedom sent  
It would have chose some better Instrument  
Then faithless Solyman.   janthe. 

O say not so!  
To strike and wound the virtue of your Foe  
Is cruelty, which war does not allow:  
Sure he has better words deserved from you.   Alphon. 

From me janthe, No;  
What he deserves from you, you best must know.   janthe. 
What means my Lord?  Alphon. 

For I confess, I must  
The poisoned bounties of a Foe mistrust:  
And when upon the Bait I look,  
Though all seem fair, suspect the Hook.   janthe. 

He, though a Foe, is generous and true:  
What he hath done declares what he will do.   Alphon. 

He in two Days your high esteem has won:  
What he would do I know; who knows what he has done?  
Done? Wicked Tongue what hast thou said? Aside.  
What horrid falsehood from thee fled?  
Oh Jealousy (if Jealousy it be)  
Would I had here an Asp instead of Thee.   janthe. 

Sure you are sick, your words, alas,  
Gestures, and looks distempers show.   Alphon. 

janthe, you may safely pass;  
The Pass, no doubt, was meant to you.   janthe. 

He's jealous sure; Oh virtue can it be?  
Have I for this served Virtue faithfully?  
Alphonso—   Alphon. 
Speak, janthe, and be free.  janthe. 
Have I deserved this change?  Alphon. 

Thou dost deserve  
So much, that Emperors are proud to serve  
The fair janthe; and not dare  
To hurt a Land whilst she is there.  
Return (Renowned janthe) safely home;  
And force thy passage with thine Eyes;  
To conquer Rhodes will be a prize  
Less glorious than by thee to be overcome.  
But since he longs (it seems) so much to see,  
And be possessed of me,  
Tell him, I shall not fly beyond his reach:  
Would he could dare to meet me in the Breach.   Exit. janthe. 

Tell him! tell him? Oh no, Alphonso, no  
Let never man thy weakness know;  
Thy sudden fall will be a shame  
To Man's and virtue's Name.  
Alphonso's false! for what can falser be  
Then to suspect that falsehood dwells in me?  
Could Solyman both Life and Honour give?  
And can Alphonso me of both deprive?  
Of both Alphonso; for believe  
janthe will disdain to live  
So long as to let others see  
Thy true, and her imputed infamy.  
No more let Lovers think they can possess  
More than a Month of happiness.  
We thought our Hold of it was strong,  
We thought our Lease of it was long:  
But now, that all may ever happy prove,  
Let never any love.  
And yet these troubles of my love to me  
Shall shorter than the pleasures be.  
I'll till to morrow last; then the Assault  
Shall finish my misfortune and his fault.  
I to my Enemies shall doubly owe,  
For saving me before, for killing now.   Exit. Enter Villerius, Admiral. Adm. 

From out the Camp a valiant Christian Slave  
Escaped, and to our Knight's assurance gave  
That at the break of day  
Their Mine will play.   Vill. 

Oft Martiningus struck and tried the ground,  
And Counter-digged, and has the hollows found:  
We shall prevent  
Their dire intent.  
Where is the Duke, whose valour strives to keep  
Rhodes still awake, which else would dully sleep?   Adm. 
His Courage and his Reason is o'erthrown.  Vill. 
Thou singest the sad destruction of our Town.  Adm. 

I met him wild as all the winds,  
When in the Ocean they contest:  
And diligent Suspicion finds  
He is with jealousy possessed.   Vill. 

That Arrow, once misdrawn, must ever rove.  
O weakness sprung from mightiness of love!  
O pitied Crime!  
Alphonso will be overthrown  
Unless we take this Ladder down,  
Where, though the Rounds are broke,  
He does himself provoke  
Too hastily to Climb.   Adm. 

Invisibly, as dreams, Fame's wings  
Fly every where;  
Hovering all Day o'er Palaces of Kings;  
At Night she lodges in the people's ear:  
Already they perceive Alphonso wild,  
And the beloved janthe grieved.   Vill. 

Let us no more by Honour be beguiled;  
This Town can never be relieved;  
Alphonso and janthe being lost,  
Rhodes, thou dost cherish life with too much cost!  
Chorus. Away, unchain the streets, unearth the Ports.  
Pull down each Barracade  
Which womens' fears have made,  
And bravely fally out from all the Forts!  
Drive back the Crescents, and advance the Cross,  
Or sink all humane Empires in our loss!   

Chorus of Wives.  

1.  
1. THis cursed Jealousy, what is't?  
2. 'Tis Love that has lost itself in a Mist.  
3. 'Tis Love's being frighted out of his wits.  
4. 'Tis Love that has a Fever got;  
Love that is violently hot;  
But troubled with cold and trembling fits.  
'Tis yet a more unnatural evil:  
'Tis the God of Love, 'tis the God of Love, possessed with a Devil. 
Chorus.    

2.  
1. ' This rich corrupted wine of Love;  
Which sharpest vinegar does prove.  
2. From all the sweet Flowers which might Honey make,  
It does a deadly poison bring.  
3. Strange Serpent which itself does sting!  
4. It never can sleep, and dreams still awake.  
5. It stuffs up the Marriage-bed with thorns!  
It gores itself, it gores itself, with imagined horns. 
Chorus.    
The End of the Fourth Entry.    

The Fifth Entry  
The ENTRY is again prepared by Instrumental Music.  The Scene is changed into a Representation of a general Assault given to the Town; the greatest fury of the Army being discerned at the English Station. Enter Pyrrhus. Pyrrhus. 

TRaverse the Canon! mount the Batries higher!  
More Gabions, and renew the Blinds!  
Like dust they powder spend,  
And to our faces send  
The heat of all the Element of fire;  
And to their Backs have all the winds.   Enter Mustapha. Musta. 

More Ladders, and reliefs to scale!  
The Fire-crooks are too short! Help, help to hale!  
That Battlement is loose, and straight will down!  
Point well the Canon, and play fast!  
Their fury is too hot to last.  
That Rampire shakes, they fly into the Town.   Pirrh. 

March up with those Reserves to that Redout!  
Faint slaves! the Janissaries reel!  
They bend, they bend! and seem to feel  
The terrors of a Rout.   Musta. 
Old Zanger halts, and re-inforcment lacks!  Pirrh. 
March on!  Musta. 
Advance those Pikes, and charge their Backs!  Enter Solyman. Solym. 

Those Platforms are too low to reach!  
Haste, haste! call Haly to the Breach!  
Can my domestic Janissaries fly!  
And not adventure life for victory!  
Whose childhood with my Palace-milk I fed;  
Their youth, as if I were their Parent, bred.  
What is this Monster Death, that our poor Slaves,  
Still vexed with toil, are loath to rest in Graves?   Musta. 

If life so precious be, why do not they,  
Who in War's trade can only live by prey,  
Their own afflicted lives expose  
To take the happier from their foes?   Pirrh. 

Our Troops renew the Fight!  
And those that sallied out  
To give the Rout,  
Are now returned in flight!   Solym. 

Follow, follow, follow! make good the Line!  
In, Pyrrhus, in! Look, we have sprung the Mine!   Exit Pyrrhus. Musta. 

Those desperate English ne'er will fly!  
Their firmness still does hinder others flight,  
As if their Mistresses were by  
To see and praise them whilst they fight.   Solym. 

That flame of valour in Alphonso's eyes  
Outshines the light of all my victories!  
Those who were slain when they his Bulwark stormed,  
Contented fell,  
As vanquished well;  
Those who were left alive may now,  
Because their valour is by his reformed,  
Hope to make others bow.   Musta. 

ere while I in the English station saw  
Beauty, that did my wonder forward draw,  
Whose valour did my Forces back disperse;  
Fairer than Woman, and then Man more fierce▪  
It showed such courage as disdained to yield,  
And yet seemed willing to be killed.   Solym. 

This Vision did to me appear;  
Which moved my pity and my fear:  
It had a Dress much like the Imagery  
For Heroes drawn, and may janthe be.   Enter Pyrrhus. Pirrh. 

Fall on! the English stoop when they give fire!  
They seem to furl their Colours and retire!   Solym. 

Advance! I only would the honour have  
To conquer two, whom I by force would save.   Enter Alphonso with his Sword drawn. Alph. 

My reason by my Courage is misled!  
Why chase I those who would from dying fly,  
Enforcing them to sleep amongst the dead,  
Yet keep myself unslain that fain would die?  
Do not the Prisoners whom we take declare  
How Solyman proclaimed through all his Host,  
That they Ianthe's life and mine should spare?  
Life ill preserved is worse than basely lost.  
Mine by dispatch of War he will not take,  
But means to leave it lingering on the Rack;  
That in his Palace I might live, and know  
Her shame, and be afraid to call it so.  
Tyrants and Devils think all pleasures vain,  
But what are still derived from other's pain.   Enter Admiral. Adm. 

Renowned Alphonso, thou hast fought to day,  
As if all Asia were thy valour's prey.  
But now thou must do more  
Than thou hast done before;  
Else the important life of Rhodes is gone.   Alph. 

Why from the peaceful grave  
Should I still strive to save  
The lives of others, that would lose mine own?   Adm. 

The Soldiers call, Alphonso! thou hast taught  
The way to all the wonders they have wrought;  
Who now refuse to fight  
But in thy valour's sight.   Alphon. 

I would to none example be to fly;  
But fain would teach all human kind to die.   Adm. 

Haste, haste! janthe in disguise  
At th'English Bulwark wounded lies;  
And in the French, our old great Master strives  
From many hands to rescue many lives.   Alphon. 

janthe wounded? where, alas,  
Has mourning Pity hid her face?  
Let Pity fly, fly far from the oppressed,  
Since she removes her Lodging from my Breast!   Adm. 

You have but too great Cruelties to choose  
By staying here; you must janthe lose  
Who ventured life and fame for you;  
Or your great Master quite forsake.  
Who to your childhood first did show  
The ways you did to Honour take.   Alphon. 

janthe cannot be  
In safer company:  
For what will not the valiant English do  
When Beauty is distressed and Virtue too.   Adm. 

Dispatch your choice, if you will either save  
Occasion bids you run;  
You must redeem the one  
And I the other from a common Grave.  
Alphonso, haste!   Alphon. 

Thou urgest me too fast.  
This riddle is too sad and intricate;  
The hardest that was e'er proposed by Fate.  
Honour and pity have  
Of both too short a time to choose:  
Honour, the one would save,  
Pity, would not the other loose.   Adm. 

Away, brave Duke, away!  
Both perish by our stay.   Alphon. 

I to my Noble Master owe  
All that my Youth did Nobly do▪  
He in War's School my Master was,  
The Ruler of my life;  
She my loved Mistress; but, alas,  
My now suspected Wife.   Adm. 

By this delay we both of them forsake!  
Which of their reskues wilt thou undertake?   Alph. 

Hence Admiral, and to my Master high!  
I will as swiftly to my Mistress fly;  
Through Ambush, Fire, and all impediments  
The witty cruelty of War invents:  
For there does yet some taste of kindness last,  
Still relishing the virtue that is past.  
But how, janthe, can my sword successful prove,  
Where honour stops, and only pity leads my love?   Exeunt, several ways. Enter Pyrrhus. Pyrrhus. 

O sudden change! repulsed in all the heat  
Of Victory, and forced to lose retreat!  
Seven Crescents, fixed on their Redouts, are gone!  
Horse, horse! we fly  
From Victory!  
Wheel, wheel from their Reserves, and charge our own!  
Divide that Wing!  
More succours bring!  
Rally the Fled,  
And quit our Dead!  
Rescue that Ensign and that Drum!  
Bold slaves? they to our Trenches come:  
Though still our Army does in posture stay  
Drawn up, to judge, not act the business of the day;  
As Rome in theatres saw Fencers play.   Enter Mustapha. Musta. 

Who can be loud enough to give command?  
Stand, Haly, make a stand!  
Those Horses to that Carriage span! Drive, drive!  
Zanger is shot again, yet still alive!  
Coins for the Culv'rin, then give fire  
To clear the Turnpikes, and let Zanger in!  
Look, Pyrrhus, look, they all begin  
To alter their bold Countenance, and retire!   The Scene returns to that of the Castle on the Mount Philermus. Enter Solyman. Soly. 

How cowardly my numerous Slaves fall back?  
Slow to Assault, but dexterous when they sack.  
Wild Wolves in times of peace they are;  
Tame sheep, and harmless in the War.  
Crowds fit to stop up Breaches; and prevail  
But so as shoals of Herrings choke a Whale.  
This Dragon-Duke so nimbly fought to day,  
As if he wings had got to stoop at Prey.  
janthe is triumphant, but not gone;  
And sees Rhodes still beleaguered, though not won.  
Audacious Town! thou keep'st thy staion still;  
And so my Castle tarries on that Hill;  
Where I will dwell till Famine enter Thee;  
And prove more fatal than my Sword could be.  
Nor shall janthe from my favours run,  
But stay to meet and praise what she did shun.   The Scene is changed to that of the Town besieged. Enter Villerius, Admiral, janthe. She in a Nightgown and a Chair is brought in. Viller. 

FAir Virtue, we have found  
No danger in your Wound.  
Securely live,  
And credit give  
To us, and to the Surgeons Art.   janthe. 

Alas, my wound is in the Heart;  
Or else, where e'er it be,  
Imprisoned life it comes to free,  
By seconding a worser wound that hid doth lie.  
What practice can assure  
That Patient of a Cure,  
Whose kind of grief still makes her doubt the remedy?   Adm. 

The wounded that would soon be eased  
Should keep their spirits tuned and pleased;  
No discord should their mind subdue:  
And who in such distress  
As this, aught to express  
More joyful harmony than you?  
'Tis not alone that we assure  
Your certain cure;  
But pray remember that your blood's expense  
Was in defence  
Of Rhodes, which gained to day a most important Victory:  
For our success, repelling this Assault,  
Has taught the Ottomans to halt;  
Who may, wasting their heavy Body, learn to fly.   Adm. 

Not only this should hasten your content;  
But you shall joy to know the Instrument  
That wrought the triumph of this day;  
Alphonso did the Sally sway;  
To whom our Rhodes all that she is does owe,  
And all that from her Root of Hope can grow.   janthe. 

Has he so greatly done?  
Indeed he used to run  
As swift in Honour's Race as any He  
Who thinks he merits Wreaths for Victory.  
This is to all a comfort, and should be,  
If he were kind, the greatest joy to me.  
Where is my altered Lord? I cannot tell  
If I may ask, if he be safe and well?  
For whilst all strangers may his actions boast,  
Who in their Songs repeat  
The Triumphs he does get,  
I only must lament his favours lost.   Vill. 

Some wounds he has; none dangerous but yours;  
janthe cured, his own he quickly cures.   janthe. 

If his be little, mine will soon grow less.  
Ay me! What Sword  
Durst give my Lord  
Those wounds, which now janthe cannot dress?   Adm. 

janthe will rejoice when she did hear  
How greater than himself he does appear  
In rescue of her life, all acts were slight,  
And cold, even in our hottest Fight  
Compared to what he did,  
When with Death's Vizard she her beauty hid.   Vill. 

Love urged his anger, till it made such haste  
And rushed so swiftly in,  
That scarce he did begin  
Ere we could say, the mighty work was passed.   janthe. 

All this for me? something he did for you:  
But when his Sword begun  
Much more it would have done  
If he, alas, had thought janthe true.   Adm. 

Be kind, janthe, and be well!  
It is too pitiful to tell  
What way of dying he expressed  
When he that Letter read  
You written before your wounds were dressed;  
When you and we despaired you could recover;  
Then he was more than dead:  
And much out-weeped a Husband and a Lover.   Enter Alphonso wounded, led in by two Mutes. Alphon: 

Tear up my wounds! I had a passion, course,  
And rude enough to strengthen Jealousy;  
But want that more refined and quicker force  
Which does out-wrestle Nature when wedye.  
Turn to a Tempest all my inward strife:  
Let it not last,  
But in a blast  
Spend this infectious vapour, Life!   janthe. 

It is my Lord! Enough of strength I feel  
To bear me to him, or but let me kneel.  
He bled for me when he achieved for you  
This day's success; and much from me is due.  
Let me but bless him for his Victory,  
And hasten to forgive him e'er I die.   Alphon. 

Keep back janthe, for my strength will fail  
If on thy Cheeks I see thy Roses pale.  
Draw all the Curtains and then lead her in;  
Let me in darkness mourn away my sin.   Exeunt. 

Chorus of Soldiers:  

1.  
WIth a fine merry Gale,  
Fit to fill every sail,  
They did cut the smooth Sea  
That our Skins they might flay:  
Still as they landed, we firked them with Sallies;  
We did bang their silk Sashes,  
Through Sands and through Plashes,  
Till amain they did run to their Galleys.   

2.  
They first were so mad  
As they Jealousies had  
That our Isle durst not stay,  
But would float straight away;  
For they landed still faster and faster:  
And their old Bassa Pyrrhus  
Did think he could fear us;  
But himself sooner feared our Grand-Master.   

3.  
Then the hug'ous great Turk,  
Came to make us more work;  
With enough men to eat  
All he meant to defeat;  
Whose wonderful worship did confirm us  
In the fear he would bide here  
So long till he died here,  
By the Castle he built on Philermus.   

4.  
You began the Assault  
With a very long Halt;  
And, as halting ye came,  
So ye went off as lame;  
And have left our Alphonso to scoff ye.  
To himself, as a Dainty,  
He keeps his janthe;  
Whilst we drink good Wine, and you drink but Coffy.   The Curtain is let fall. 
The End of the Fifth ENTRY.    
FINIS.   

THE SIEGE OF RHODES:  
The Second Part,  
As it was lately Represented at His Highness the Duke of YORK'S Theatre In Lincoln's-Inn Fields.  
LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman, and are to be sold at his Shop, at the Sign of the Anchor, on the Lower-walk in the New-Exchange. 1663.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE the EARL of CLARENDON Lord High Chancellor of England, etc.  
MY LORD,  
THough Poems have lost much of their Ancient value, yet I will presume to make this a Present to your Lordship; and the rather, because Poems (if they have any thing precious in them) do, like Jewels, attract a greater esteem when they come into the possession of great Persons, than when they are in ordinary hands.  
The excuse which men have had for dedication of Books, has been to protect them from the malice of Readers: but a defence of of this nature was fitter for your forces when you were early known to Learned men (and had no other occasion for your abilities, but to vindicate Authors) than at this Season when you are of extraordinary use to the whole Nation.  
Yet when I consider how many & how violent they are who persecute Dramatic Poetry, I will then rather call this a Dedication than a Present; as not intending by it to pass any kind of obligation, but to receive a great benefit; since I cannot be safe unless I am sheltered behind your Lordship.  
Your name is so eminent in the Justice which yond convey through all the different Members of this great Empire, that my Rhodians seem to enjoy a better Harbour in the Pacifique Thames, than they had on the Mediterranean; and I have brought Solyman to be arraigned at your Tribunal, where you are the Censor of his civility & magnificence.  
Dramatic Poetry meets with the same persecution now, from such who esteem themselves the most refined and civil, as it ever did from the Barbarous. And yet whilst those virtuous Enemies deny heroic Plays to the Gentry, they entertain the People with a Seditious Farce of their own counterfeit Gravity. But I hope you will not be unwilling to receive (in this Poetical dress) neither the Besieged nor the Besiegers, since they come without their vices: for as others have purged the Stage from corruptions of the Art of the Drama, so I have endeavoured to cleanse it from the corruption of manners; nor have I wanted care to render the Ideas of Greatness and Virtue pleasing and familiar.  
In old Rome the Magistrates did not only protect but exhibit Plays; and, not long since, the two wise Cardinals did kindly entertain the great Images represented in Tragedy by Monsieur Corneille. My Lord, it proceeds from the same mind not to be pleased with Princes on the Stage, and not to affect them in the Throne; for those are ever most inclined to break the Mirror who are unwilling to see the Images of such as have just authority over their guilt.  
In this Poem I have revived the remembrance of that fatal desolation which was permitted by Christian Princes when they favoured the ambition of such as defended the diversity of Religions (begot by the factions of Learning) in Germany; whilst those who would never admit Learning into their Empire (lest it should meddle with Religion and entangle it with Controversy) did make Rhodes defenceless; which was the only fortified Academy in Christendom where Divinity and Arms were equally professed. I have likewise, for variety, softened the Martial encounters between Solyman and the Rhodians, with intermingling the conjugal virtues of Alphonso and janthe.  
If I should proceed, and tell your Lordship of what use Theatres have anciently been, and may be now, by heightening the Characters of Valour, Temperance, Natural Juststice, and complacency to Government, I should fall into the ill manners and indiscretion of ordinary Dedicators, who go about to instruct those from whose abilities they expect protection. The apprehension of this error makes me hasten to crave pardon for what has been already said by  
MY LORD, Your Lordship's most humble and most odedient Servant WILL. D'AVENANT.   

The Persons represented.  

Solyman The Magnificent.  
Pyrrhus' Vizier Bassa.  
Mustapha Bassa.  
Rustan Bassa.  
Haly Eunuch Bassa.  
Villerius Grand Master of Rhodes.  
Alphonso A Cicilian Duke.  
Admiral Of Rhodes.  
High Marshal Of Rhodes.  
Roxolana Wife to Solyman.  
janthe Wife to Alphonso.  
womans Attendants to Roxolana.  
womans Attendants to janthe.  
Four Page's Attendants to Roxolana.   
The Scene, RHODES.   

Prologue.  

WHat if we serve you now a Trick? and do  
Like him who posted Bills that he would show  
So many active feats, and those so high,  
That Court and City came to see him fly?  
But he, good man, careful to empty still  
The Money-Boxes, as the House did fill,  
Of all his Tricks, had time to show but one:  
He lined his Purse, and, Presto! he was gone!—  
Many were then as fond, as you are now,  
Of seeing stranger things than Art can show.  
We may perform as much as he did do;  
We have your Money, and a Backdoor too.  
Go, and be cozened thus, rather than stay  
And wait to be worse cozened with our Play.  
For you shall hear such course complaints of Love,  
Such silly sighing, as no more will move  
Your Passion then Dutch Madrigals can do,  
When Skippers, with wit Beards, at Wapping woo.  
Hope little from our Poet's withered Wit;  
From Infant-Players, scarce grown Puppets yet.  
Hope from our Women less, whose bashful fear,  
Wondered to see me dare to enter here:  
Each took her leave, and wished my danger past;  
And though I come back safe, and undisgraced,  
Yet when they spy the WITS here then I doubt  
No Amazon can make 'em venture out.  
Though I advised 'em not to fear you much;  
For I presume not half of you are such.  
But many travelers here as Judges come;  
From Paris, Florence, Venice, and from Rome:  
Who will describe, when any Scene we draw,  
By each of ours, all that they ever Saw.  
Those praising, for extensive breadth and height;  
And inward distance to deceive the sight.  
When greater Objects, moving in broad Space,  
You rank with lesser, in this narrow Place,  
Then we like Chess-men, on a Chessboard are,  
And seem to play like Pawns the Rhodian Warr.  
Oh Money! Money! if the WITS would dress,  
With Ornaments, the present face of Peace;  
And to our Poet half that Treasure spare,  
Which Faction gets from Fools to nourish War;  
Then his contracted Scenes should wider be,  
And move by greater Engines, till you see  
(Whilst you Securely sit) fierce Armies meet,  
And raging Seas disperse a fighting Fleet.  
Thus much he bade me say; and I confess  
I think he would, if rich, mean nothing less;  
But, leaving you yourselves to entertain,  
Like an old Rat retire to Parmazan.    

THE SIEGE OF RHODES. The Second Part,  

Act the First,  
Scene the First.  The SCENE is a Prospect of Rhodes beleaguered at Sea and Land by the Fleet and Army of SOLYMAN. Enter Alphonso, Admiral, Marshal of Rhodes. Alph. 

WHen shall we scape from the delays of Rome?  
And when, slow Venice, will thy Succours come?   Mar. 

How often too have we in vain  
Sought aid from long consulting Spain?   Adm. 

The German Eagle does no more  
About our barren Island Sore.  
Thy Region, famished Rhodes, she does forsake;  
And cruelly at home her Quarry make.   Alph. 
The furious French, and fiercer English fail.  Adm. 

We watch from Steeples and the Peer  
What Flags remoter Vessels bear;  
But no glad Voice cries out, a Sail! a Sail!   Mar. 

Brave Duke! I find we are to blame  
In playing slowly Honour's Game,  
Whilst lingering Famine wastes our strength,  
And tires afflicted Life with length.   Alph. 

The Council does it rashness call  
When we propose to hazard all  
The parcels we have left in one bold Cast:  
But their Discretion makes our Torments last.   Adm. 

When lessening Hope flies from our Ken,  
And still Despair shows great and near,  
Discretion seems to Valour then  
A formal shape to cover fear.   Alph. 

Courage, when it at once adventures all,  
And dares with human aids dispense,  
Resembles that high confidence  
Which Priests may Faith and Heav'nly-Valour call.   Adm. 

Those who in latter dangers of fierce War  
To distant hope and long consults are given,  
Depend too proudly on their own wise care;  
And seem to trust themselves much more than Heaven.   Alph. 

Let then the Elder of our Rhodian Knights  
Discourse of slow designs in ancient Fights;  
Let them sit long in Council to contrive  
How they may longest keep lean Fools alive:  
Whilst (Marshal) thou, the Admiral, and I  
(Grown weary of this tedious strife  
Which but prolongs imprisoned Life)  
Since we are freely Born will freely Die.   Adm. 

From several Ports we'll Sally out  
With all the bolder Youth our Seas have bred.   Mar. 

And we at Land through storms of War have led,  
Then meet at Mustapha's Redoubt.   Alph. 

And this last Race of Honour being run,  
we'll meet again, far, far, above the Sun.   Adm. 

Already Fame her Trumpet sounds:  
Which more provokes and warms  
Our Courage than the smart of Wounds▪  
Away! to Arms! to Arms!—   Enter Villerius. Vill. 

What from the Camp, when no Assault is near,  
Fierce Duke does thee to Slaughter call?  
Or what bold Fleet does now at Sea appear,  
To hale and board our Admiral?   Adm. 

We give, Great Master, this alarm  
Not to forwarn your Chiefs of harm:  
To whom assaults from Land or Sea  
Would now but too much welcome be.   Alph. 

We want great dangers, and of mischiefs know  
No greater ill but that they come too slow.   Adm. 

Why should we thus, with Arts great care  
Of Empire, against Nature Warr?  
Nature, with sleep and food, would make Life last;  
But artful Empire makes us watch and fast.   Alph. 

If Valour virtue be, why should we lack  
The means to make it move?  
Which progress would improve;  
But cannot march when Famine keeps it back.   Adm. 

When gen'ral Dearth  
Afflicts the Earth,  
Then even our loudest Warriors calmly pine.  
High courage (though with Sourness still  
It yields to Yokes of human will)  
Yet gracefully does bow to Power Divine.   Alph. 

But when but mortal Foes  
Imperiously impose  
A Martial Lent  
Where strength is spent;  
That Famine, doubly horrid, wears the face  
Both of a Lingering death, and of disgrace.   Mar. 

For those, whose Valour makes them quickly die,  
Prevent the Fast to shun the infamy.   Vill. 

Whom have I heard? 'Tis time all Power should cease  
When men high born, and higher bred  
(Who have outdone what most have read,)  
Grow like the Gowd, impatient of distress.  
Is there no room for Hope in any Breast?   Adm. 

Not, since she does appear  
Boldly a dweller where  
She first was entertained but as a Guest.   Alph. 

She may in Sieges be received  
Be courted too, and much believed;  
And thus continue after wants begin;  
But is thrust out when Famine enters in.   Vill. 

You have been tired in vain with passiveness;  
But where; when active, can you meet Success?   Alph. 

With all the strength of all our Forts  
we'll sally out from all the Ports;  
And with a hot and hot alarm  
Still keep the Turkish Tents so warm  
That Solyman shall in a Fever lie:   Mar. 

His Bassas, marking what we do,  
Shall find that we were taught by you  
To manage Life, and teach them how to Die.   Vill. 

Valour's designs are many heights above  
All pleasures fancied in the dreams of Love.  
But whilst, voluptuously, you thus devise  
Delightful ways to end those miseries  
Which over-charge your own impatient mind▪  
Where shall the softer Sex their safety find?  
When you with numerous Foes lie dead,  
(I mean asleep in Honour's Bed)  
They then may subject be  
To all the wild and fouler force  
Of rudest Victory;  
Where noise shall Deafen all remorse.   Alph. 

If still concerned to watch and arm  
That we may keep from harm  
All who defenceless are  
And seldom safe in War,  
When, Admiral, shall we  
From weariness be free?   Vill. 

The Rhodians by your gen'ral Sally may  
Get high renown;  
Though you at last must bravely lose the Day,  
And they their Town.  
Then when by angered Solyman 'tis swayed,  
On whom shall climbing Infants smile for aid?  
Or who shall lift and rescue falling Age,  
When it can only frown at Turkish rage?  
The living thus advise you to esteem  
And keep your Life that it may succour them:  
But though you are inclined to hear Death plead  
As strongly to invite you to the Dead,  
Whilst glory does beyond compassion move,  
Yet stay till your janthe speaks for Love!   Alph. 

Ianthe's name is such a double charm,  
As straight does arm me, and as soon unarm.  
Valour as far as ever Valour went,  
Dares go, not stopping at the Sultan's Tent,  
To free janthe when to Rhodes confined:  
But halts, when it considers I  
Amidst ten Thousand Turks may Die,  
Yet leave her then to many more behind.   Adm. 
Since life is to be kept, what must be done?  Vill. 

All those attempts of Valour we must shun  
Which may the Sultan vex; And, since bereft  
Of food, there is no help but Treaty left.   Adm. 

Rhodes, when the World shall thy submission know,  
Honour, thy ancient friend, will court thy Foe.   Mar. 

Honour begins to blush, and hide his face:  
For those who Treat sheathe all their Swords,  
To try by length of fencing words  
How far they may consent to meet Disgrace.   Alph. 

As noble minds with shame their wants confess;  
So Rhodes will bashfully declare distress.   A Shout within, and a Noise of forcing of Doors. Vill. 

Our guards will turn confederates with the crowd,  
Whose miseries now insult and make them loud.  
Their leaders strive with praises to appease,  
And soften the misled with promises.   [Exit Admiral. Alph. 

These used with awe to wait  
Far from your Palace gate;  
But, like lean Birds in Frosts, their hunger now  
Makes them approach us and familiar grow.   Vill. 

They have so long been Dying that 'tis fit  
They Deaths great privilege should have;  
Which does in all a parity admit:  
No rooms of State are in the Grave.   Enter Admiral. Adm. 

The People's various minds  
(Which are like sudden winds,  
Such as from Hilly-coasts still changing blow)  
Were lately as a secret kept  
In many whispers of so soft a breath,  
And in a calm so deeply low,  
As if all Life had soundly slept;  
But now, as if they meant to waken Death,  
They rashly rise, and loud in Tumults grow.   Mar. 

They see our strength is hourly less,  
Whilst Solyman's does still increase.   Adm. 

Thus, being to their last expectance driven,  
janthe, now they cry!  
Whose name they raise so high  
And often that it fills the vault of Heaven.   Alph. 

If Solyman does much her Looks esteem,  
Looks captive him, and may enfranchise them.   Adm. 

By many prisoners, since our Siege began,  
They have been told, how Potent Solyman,  
In all assaults, severely did command  
That you and she  
Should still be free  
From all attempts of every Turkish hand.   Alph. 

It rudeness were in me, not to confess  
That Solyman has civil been,  
And did much Christian honour win  
When he janthe rescued from distress.   Adm. 

They were from many more advertised too,  
That he hath Passports sent for her and you:  
Which makes them hope the Power divine  
Does by some blessed cause design  
janthe to procure their Liberty:  
Or if by Heaven 'tis not entirely me'nt  
That powerful Beauty's force should set them free,  
Yet they would have her straight in Treaty sent  
To gain some rest for those,  
Who of their restless foes  
Continual wounds and fasts are weary grown.   Mar. 

Whose mighty hearts conceived before,  
That they were built to suffer more  
Assaults and Batteries than our Rocky Town.   Vill. 

Those who, with Gyant-stature, shocks received,  
Now down to Dwarfish size and weakness fall.   Mar. 

Who once no more of harm from shot believed  
Than that an arrow hurts a wounded Wall.   Alph. 

She Treat? What pleasant, but what frantic dreams,  
Rise from the People's fever of extremes?  
I will allay their Rage, or try  
How far janthe will comply.   [Exit. Enter janthe and her two Women at the other Door. jant. 

Why wise Villerius, had you power to sway  
That Rhodian Valour, which did yours obey?  
Was not that power derived from awful Heaven  
Which to your Valour hath your Wisdom given?  
And that directs you to the Seasons meet  
For deeds of War, and when 'tis fit to treat.   Vill. 

Ere we to Solyman can sue,  
janthe, we must treat with you.  
The people find that they have no defence  
But in your Beauty and your Eloquence.   Mar. 
To your requests Great Solyman may yield.  jant. 
Can hope on such a weak Foundation build?  Mar. 
In you the famished people's hopes are fed.  jant. 

Can your discerning eyes  
(Which may inform the wise)  
Be by vain hope, their blind Conductor, led?   Vill. 

When winds in Tempests rise  
Pilots may shut their eyes.   Mar. 

And, though their practice knows their way,  
Must be content a while to stray.   jant. 

Though Solyman should softer grow;  
And to my tears compassion show;  
What shape of comfort can appear to me,  
When all your outward War shall cease,  
If then my Lord renew his jealousy  
And straight destroy my inward peace?   Vill. 

The Rhodian Knights shall all in Council sit;  
And with persuasions, by the public Voice,  
Your Lord shall woo till you to that submit  
Which is the People's will, and not your Choice.  
No arguments, by forms of Senate made,  
Can Magisterial Jealousy persuade;  
It takes no Counsel, nor will be in awe  
Of Reason's force, necessity, or Law.   [Exit with the Marshal and her women. Vill. 

Call thy experience back,  
Which safely coasted every shore;  
And let thy reason lack  
No wings to make it higher soar;  
For all those aids will much too weak appear,  
With all that gathering fancy can supply,  
When she hath traveled round about the Sphere,  
To give us strength to govern Jealousy.   Adm. 

Will you believe that Fair janthe can  
Consent to go, and treat with Solyman,  
Vainly in hope to move him to remorse?   Vill. 

'Twill not be said by me  
That she consents, when she  
Does yield to what the People would enforce.  
Their strength they now will in our weakness find,  
Whom in their plenty we can sway,  
But in their wants must them obey,  
And wink when they the Cords of power unbind.   Adm. 
'Tis likely then that she must yield, to go.  Vill. 
Who can resist, if they will have it so?  Adm. 
Where 'ere she moves she will last innocent.  Vill. 
heavens' spotless Lights are not by motion spent.  Adm. 

Alphonso's Love cannot so sickly be  
As to express relapse of Jealousy.   Vill. 

Examine Jealousy and it will prove  
To be the careful tenderness of Love.  
It can no sooner than Celestial fire  
Be either quenched, or of itself expire.   Adm. 

No signs are seen of Embers that remain  
For windy passion to provoke.   Vill. 

Talk not of signs; Celestial fires contain  
No matter which appears in smoke.  
Be heedful Admiral; The private peace  
Of Lovers so Renowned requires your care:  
Their League, renewed of late, will if it cease  
As much perplex us as the Rhodian Warr.   [Exit. Adm. 

How vainly must I keep mine eyes awake,  
Who now, Alphonso, am enjoined to take,  
For public good, a private care of thee;  
When I shall rather heed thy care of me?  
Love, in Ianthe's shape, passed through my eyes  
And tarries in my breast. But if the wise  
Villerius does high Jealousy approve  
As Virtue, and because it springs from Love:  
My Love, I hope, will so much Virtue be  
As shall, at least, take place of Jealousy.  
For all will more respect  
The cause than the effect.  
What I discern of Love, seems virtue yet,  
And whilst that Face appears I'll cherish it.   Exit.  

The Second Act.  The same Scene continueth. A great Noise is heard of the People within. Enter Villerius, Admiral, Marshal. Adm. 

THeir murmurs with their hunger will increase:  
Their noises are effects of emptiness.  
Murmurs, like Winds, will louder prove  
When they with larger freedom move.   Vill. 

Winds which in hollow Caverns dwell,  
Do first their force in murmurs waste;  
Then soon, in many a sighing blast,  
Get out, and up in Tempests swell.   Adm. 

Your practised strength no public burden fears;  
Nor stoops when it the weight of Empire bears.   Vill. 

Power is an Arch which every common hand  
Does help to raise to a magnific height;  
And it requites their aid when it does stand  
With firmer strength beneath increasing weight.   Adm. 

'Tis noble to endure and not resent  
The bruises of Afflictions heavy hand.  
But can we not this Embassy prevent?   Vill. 

janthe needs must go. Those who withstand  
The Tide of Flood, which is the People's will,  
Fall back when they in vain would onward row:  
We strength and way preserve by lying still.  
And sure, since Tides ebb longer than they flow,  
Patience, which waits their Ebbs, regains  
Lost time, and does prevent our pains.   Adm. 

Can we of saving and of gaining boast  
In that by which janthe may be lost?  
She wholly Honour is; and, when bereft.  
Of any part of that, has nothing left.  
For Honour is the Soul, which by the Art  
Of Schools, is all contained in every part.   Vill. 

The Guiltless cannot Honour lose, and she  
Can never more than Virtue guilty be.   Adm. 
The talking World may persecute her name.  Vill. 

Her Honour bleeds not when they wound her Fame.  
Honour's the Soul which nought but Guilt can wound;  
Fame is the Trumpet which the People sound.   Mar. 

The Trumpet where still variously they blow,  
And seeking Echoes, sound both high and low.   Adm. 
Can no expedient stop their will?  Vill. 

The practice grows above our skill.  
Last Night, in secret, I a Prisoner sent  
To Mustapha, with deep acknowledgement.  
For fair janthes former Liberty,  
And Passports, offered since, to set her free.  
My Letters have no ill acceptance met;  
But his reply forbids all means to treat,  
Unless janthe, who has oft refused  
That Pass, which Honour might have safely used,  
Appear before Great Solyman, and sue  
To save those Lives which Famine must subdue.   Adm. 

Sad Fate! Were all those drowsy Syrups here [Aside▪  
Which Art prescribes to madness, or to fear,  
To Jealousy, or careful statesmen's Eyes,  
To waking Tyrants, or their watchful Spies,  
They could not make me sleep when she is sent  
To lie Love's Lieger in the Sultan's Tent.   [A great shout within. Mar. 

What sudden pleasure makes the Crowd rejoice?  
What comfort can thus raise the public Voice?   Vill. 

'Tis fit that with the People's insolence,  
When in their sorrows rude, we should dispense;  
Since they are seldom civil in their joys:  
Their gladness is but an uncivil Noise.   Adm. 

They seldom are in tune; and their tunes last  
But like their Love's rash Sparkles struck in haste.   Vill. 
Still brief, as the concordance of a Shout.  Adm. 
What is so short as Music of the Rout?  Vill. 
Though short, yet 'tis as hearty as 'tis loud.  Adm. 
Dissembling is an Art above the Crowd.  Vill. 
Whom do they dignify with this applause?  Enter Alphonso, janthe. Alph. 

Of this, grave Prince, janthe is the cause.  
I from the Temple led her now:  
Where she for Rhodes paid many a Vow;  
And did for every Rhodian mourn  
With sorrows gracefully devout:  
But they paid back at our return  
More vows to her than she laid out.   Vill. 

If they such gratitude express  
For your kind Prayers in their distress,  
janthe, think, what the Besieged will do  
When the Besieger is overcome by you?  
Though Rhodes by Kings has quite forsaken been  
Without, whilst all forsake their Chiefs within;  
Yet who can tell but Heaven has now designed  
Your shining beauty and your brighter mind  
To lead us from the darkness of this War,  
Where the Besieged, forgotten Prisoners are:  
Where glorious minds have been so much obscured  
That Fame has hardly known  
What they have boldly done,  
And with a greater boldness have endured.   Alph. 

If Heaven of Innocence unmindful were,  
janthe then might many dangers fear.  
Your hazards, and what Rhodes does hazard too,  
Are less than mine when I adventure you;  
Who doubtful perils run  
That we may try to shun  
Such certain loss as nought can else prevent.   Adm. 
Revolted Jealousy! can he consent?  [Aside. jant. 

If Rhodes were not concerned at all  
In what I am desired to undertake  
I should it less than Duty call  
To seek the Sultan for Alphonso's sake.   Alph. 

The Sultan has with forward haste  
Climbed to the top of high Renown;  
And sure, he cannot now as fast,  
By breaking trust, run backward down.   jant. 

We should not any with Suspicion wound  
Whom none detect, much less believe that those  
In whom by trial we much virtue found  
Can quickly all their stock of virtue lose.   Adm. 

How sweetly she, like Infant-Innocence, [Aside.  
Runs harmlessly to harm?  
High Honour will unarm  
Itself to furnish others with defence.   Mar. 

Her mind, ascending still o'er human heights,  
Has all the Valour of our Rhodian Knights.   Vil. 

What more remains but Prayers to recommend  
Your safety to the Heavenly Powers,  
You being theirs much more than ours.  
I'll to the Sultan for your Passport send.   jant. 

That may disgrace the trust which we should give,  
And lessen the effects we should receive.  
Let such use forms so low  
As not by trial know  
How high the Honour is of Solyman:  
Who never will descend  
Till he in Valleys end  
That race which he on lofty Hills began.  
His power does every day increase,  
And can his honour then grow less?  
Bright power does like the Sun  
Towards chief perfection run,  
When it does high and higher rise.  
From both the best effects proceed,  
When they from heights their glories spread,  
And when they Dazzle gazing eyes.   Alph. 

How far, janthe, will these thoughts extend?  
Vain question, Honour has no Journeys end!   Adm. 

Her honour's such, as he who limits it  
Must draw a Line to bound an infinite.   Vill. 

Since Fate has long resolved that you must go,  
And you a pass decline, what can we do?   jant. 

The great Example which the Sultan gave  
Of virtue, when he did my honour save,  
And yours, Alphonso, too in me,  
When I was then his Enemy,  
Shall bring me now a Suppliant to his Tent;  
Without his plighted Word or Passport sent.  
So great a test of our entire belief  
Of Clemency, in so Renowned a Chief,  
Is now the greatest present we can make:  
His Passport is the least that we can take.   Alph. 

janthe, I am learning not to prize  
Those dangers, which your virtue can despise.   Adm. 

My Love is better taught;  
For with the pangs of thought,  
I must that safety much suspect,  
Which she too nobly does neglect.   [A shout within. Vill. 
You hear them Admiral!  Adm. 

Again the people call.  
Our haste provoking by a shout.   Vill. 

Go hang a Flag of Treaty out,  
High on Faint nicholas Fort!  
Then clear the Western port  
To make renowned janthe way!   [Shout again. Adm. 

Hark! they grow loud!  
That tide, the Crowd,  
Will not for Lover's leisure stay.   Mar. 

That storm by suddenness prevails,  
And makes us lower all our Sails.   Vill. 

To Mustapha I'll strait a Herald send,  
That Solyman may melt when he shall know  
How much we on his mighty mind depend  
By trusting more than Rhodes to such a Foe.   [Exeunt Villerius, Admiral, Marshal. Alph. 

How long janthe should I grieve  
If I perceived you could believe  
That I the Rhodians can so much esteem,  
As to adventure you to rescue them?  
Yet I for Rhodes would frankly hazard all  
That I could mine, and not janthes call.  
But now I yield to let you go  
A pledge of Treaty to the foe,  
In hope that saving Rhodes you may  
Prepare to Sicily your way.  
Were Rhodes subdued, janthe being there,  
janthe should the only loss appear.   jant. 

Much from us both is to the Rhodians due,  
But when I sue for Rhodes, it is for you.   Alph. 

janthe, we must part! you shall rely  
On hope, whilst I in parting learn to Die.   jant. 

Take back that hope! your dealing is not fair  
To give me hope, and leave yourself despair.   Alph. 

I will but dream of Death, and then  
As virtuously as Dying men  
Let me to scape from future punishment  
Come to a clear confession, and repent.   jant. 

I cannot any story fear  
Which of Alphonso I shall hear,  
Unless his Foes in malice tell it wrong.   Alph. 

janthe, my confession is not long,  
For since it tells what folly did commit  
Against your honour, shame will shorten it.   jant. 

Lend me a little of that shame;  
For I perceive I grow too blame  
In practising to guests what it can be.   Alph. 

It is my late ignoble Jealousy.  
Though parting now seems Death, yet but forgive  
That crime, and after parting I may Live.  
And as I now again great sorrow show,  
Though I repented well for it before;  
So let your pardon with my sorrows grow;  
You much forgave me, but forgive me more.   jant. 

Away! Away! How soon will this augment  
The troubled people's fears,  
When they shall see me by Alphonso sent  
To treat for Rhodes in tears?   Alph. 

What in your absence shall I do  
Worthy of Fame, though not of you?   jant. 

By patience, not by action now,  
Your virtue must successful grow.   [A shout within. Alph. 

In throngs the longing people wait  
Your coming at the Palace gate.  
Let me attend you to the Peer.   jant. 

But we must leave our sorrows here.  
Let not a Rhodian witness be  
Of any grief in you or me;  
For Rhodes, by seeing us at parting mourn,  
Will look for weeping Clouds at my return.   [Exeunt. The Scene is Changed to the Camp of Solyman, the Tents and Guards seem near, and part of Rhodes at a distance. Enter Solyman, Pyrrhus, Rustan. Pirrh. 

NOne (Glorious Sultan) can your Conquest doubt  
When Rhodes has hung a Flagg of Treaty out.   Soly. 

Thy courage, haughty Rhodes,  
(When I account the Odds  
Thou hast opposed, by long and vain defence)  
Is but a braver kind of Impudence.  
Thou knew'st my strength, but thou didst better know▪  
How much I prized the brav'ry's of a Foe.   Pirrh. 
Their Sallies were by stealth, and faint of late.  Soly. 
Can flowing Valour stay at standing flood?  Pirrh. 
No, it will quickly from the mark abate.  Rust. 
And then soon show the Dead low Ebb of Blood.  Soly. 

When those who did such mighty Deeds before,  
Shall less, but by a little, do,  
It shows to me and you,  
Old Pyrrhus, that they mean to do no more.  
By Treaty they but boldly beg a Peace.   Pirrh 
Shall I command that all our Batteries cease?  Soly. 
You may, then draw our our-Guards to the Line.  Pirrh. 
And I'll prevent the springing of the Mine.  [Exit. Enter Mustapha. Must. 

Villerius sends his Homage to your feet:  
And, to declare how low  
The pride of Rhodes can bow,  
janthe will be here to Kneel and Treat.   Rust. 

What more can fortune in your favour do?  
Beauty, which Conquers Victors, yields to you.   Solym. 

What wandering Star does lead her forth? Can she  
Who scorned a Passport for her Liberty,  
Vouchsafe to come, and Treat without it now?  
The first did Glory, this respect may show.  
Powers best Religion she,  
Perhaps does civilly believe  
To be established, and reformed in me,  
Which counsels Monarchs to forgive.   Enter Pyrrhus. Pirrh. 

A second Morn begins to break from Rhodes;  
And now that threatning Sky grows clear,  
Which was o'er cast with smoke of Cannon-Clouds,  
The fair janthe does appear.   Soly. 

Pyrrhus, our Forces from the Trenches lead,  
And open as our Flying Ensigns spread.  
And, Mustapha, let her Reception be  
As great as is the Faith she has in me.  
I keep high Interest hid in this command;  
Which you with safety may  
Implicitly obey,  
But not without your Danger understand.  
Your tried obedience I shall much engage,  
Joined to the prudence of your practised age.   Must. 

We are content with age, because we live  
So long beneath your sway.   Pirrh. 

Age makes us fit t' obey  
Commands which none but Solyman can give.   [Exeunt Pyrrhus, Mustapha, Rustan. Soly. 

Of spacious Empire, what can I enjoy?  
Gaining at last but what I first Destroy.  
'tis fatal (Rhodes) to thee,  
And troublesome to me  
That I was born to govern swarms  
Of Vassals boldly bred to arms:  
For whose accursed diversion, I must still  
Provide new Towns to Sack, new Foes to Kill.  
Excuse that Power, which by my Slaves is awed:  
For I shall find my peace  
Destroyed at home, unless  
I seek for them destructive War abroad.   [Exit. Enter Roxolana, Haly, Pyrrhus, Mustapha, Rustan, Pages, Women. Roxol. 
Th' Ambassadors of Persia, are they come?  Haly. 
They seek your Favour and attend their Doom.  Roxol. 
The Vizier Bashaw, did you bid him wait?  Haly. 
Sultana, he does here expect his Fate.  Roxol. 

You take up all our Sultan's bosom now;  
Have we no place, but that which you allow?   Rust. 

Your Beauteous greatness does your ear incline  
To Rumours of those crimes which are not mine.  
My Foes are prosperous in their diligence,  
And turn even my submission to offence.   Roxol. 

Rustan, your Glories rise, and swell too fast.  
You must shrink back, and shall repent your haste.   Must. 

Th' Egyptian presents, which you pleased t' assign  
As a Reward to th' Eunuch Salladine,  
Are part of those allotments Haly had.   Roxol. 
Let a Division be to Haly made.  Pirrh. 

Th' Armenian Cities have their Tribute paid,  
And all the Georgian Princes sue for ayed.   Roxol. 

Those Cities, Mustapha, deserve our care.  
Pyrrhus, send succours to the Georgian Warr.   Must. 

Th' Ambassador which did the Jewels bring  
From the Hungarian Queen, does Audience crave.   Roxol. 

Pyrrhus, be tender of her Infant King.  
Who dares Destory that Throne which I would save?   Rust. 

Sultana, humbly at your feet I fall,  
Do not your Sultan's will, my Counsel call.   Roxol. 

Rustan! Go mourn! But you may long repent▪  
My busy Power wants leisure to relent.   Rust. 

Think me not wicked, till I doubt to find  
Some small compassion in so great a mind.   Roxol. 

These are Court-Monsters, Corm'rants of the Crown:  
They feed on Favour till th' are overgrown;  
Then saucily believe, we Monarchs Wives  
Were made but to be Dressed  
For a Continued Feast;  
To hear soft Sounds, and play away our Lives.  
They think our Fullness is to wain so soon  
As if our Sex's Governess, the Moon,  
Had placed us, but for Sport on Fortune's lap;  
They with bold Pencils, by the changing shape  
Of our frail Beauty, have our Fortune drawn;  
And judge our Breasts transparent as our Lawn;  
Our hearts as lose, and soft, and slight  
As are our Summer vests of Silk;  
Our brains, like to our Feathers light;  
Our blood, as sweet as is our Milk:  
And think, when favourites rise, we are to fall  
Meekly as Doves, whose Livers have no Gall.  
But they shall find, I'm no European Queen,  
Who in a Throne does sit but to be seen;  
And Lives in Peace with such State-Thieves as these  
Who Robb us of our business for our ease.   Exeunt omnes.  

The Third Act.  The Scene continueth. Enter Solyman, Mustapha, Pyrrhus, Rustan. Must. 

Majestic Sultan! at your feet we fall:  
Our Duty 'tis and just  
To say, you have encompassed us with all  
That we can private trust  
Or public Honours call.   Pirrh. 

In Fields our weak retiring Age you grace  
With forward action; and in Court,  
Where all your mighty Chiefs resort,  
Even they to us, as Kings to them, give place.   Rust. 
The Cords by which we are obliged are strong.  Soly. 

You all have Loyal been, and Loyal long.  
To show I this retain in full belief,  
I'll doubly trust you, with my shame, and grief.  
A grief which takes up all my Breast:  
Yet finds the Room so narrow too  
That being straightened there it takes no rest,  
But must get out to trouble you.  
That grief begets a shame which would disgrace  
My power if it were published in my face.   Must. 

Your outward calm does well  
Your inward storm disguise.   Rust. 

But long dead calms foretell  
That tempests are to rise.   Soly. 

My Roxolana, by ambitious strife,  
To get unjust Succession for her Son,  
Has put in doubt  
Or blotted out  
All the Heroic story of my Life;  
And will lose back the Battles▪ I have won.   Pirrh. 

ere ill advice shall lead her far she'll scorn  
Her Guide, and, faster than she went, return.   Must. 

Those who advised her ill, in that did do  
Much more than we dare hear except from you.   Soly. 

O Mustapha! is it too much for me  
To think, I justly may possessor be  
Of one soft Bosom, where released from care,  
I should securely rest from toils of War?  
But now, when daily tired with watchful Life,  
(With various turns in doubtful Fight,  
And length of talking Councils) I at night  
In vain seek Sleep with a tempestuous Wife.  
Wink at my shame, that I, whose Banners brave  
The world, should thus to Beauty be a Slave.   Pirrh. 

This Cloud will quickly pass  
From Roxolana's face.   Must. 
The weather than will change from foul to fair.  Rust. 
Tempests are short, and serve to clear the Air.  Soly. 

Since I have told my Sickness, it is fit  
You hear what Cure I have prescribed to it.  
Those Lovers Knots I cannot straight untwine,  
Which, sure, were made to last  
Since they were once ryed fast  
With strings of Roxolana's heart and mine.   Must. 

How can she vast Possession more improve?  
Has she not all in having all your Love?   Soly. 

I have designed a way to check her Pride.  
It is not yet forgot,  
That even the Gordian Knot  
At last was cut, which could not be untied.  
Does not the fair janthe wait  
Without, in hope to mitigate,  
By softening Looks, the Rhodians fate?  
Let that new Moon appear,  
And try her Infivence here.   Exit Mustapha. Pirrh. 

What Lab'rynth does our Sultan mean to tread?  
Shall straying Love the World's great Leader lead?   Enter Mustapha, janthe. Soly. 

When warlike Cities (fair Embassadress)  
Begin to treat, they cover their distress.  
In showing you, the Artful Rhodians know  
They hide distress and all their triumphs show.  
From withering Rhodes you fresher Beauty bring,  
And sweeter than the bosom of the Spring.   jant. 

Cities (propitious Sultan) when they treat,  
Conceal their wanrs, and strength may counterfeit:  
But sure the Rhodians would not get esteem,  
By aught pretended in myself or them.  
If I could any Beauty wear  
Where Roxolana fills the Sphere,  
Yet I bring griefs to cloud it here.   Soly. 
Your Rhodes has hung a Flagg of Treaty out.  jant. 

You can as little then my sorrows doubt  
As I can fear that any humble grief  
May sue to Solyman and want relief.   Soly. 

You oft the proffered Freedom did refuse,  
Which now you seek, and would have others use.   jant. 

I than did make my want of merit known;  
And thought that gift too much for me alone;  
And as 'twas fit  
To reckon it  
More favour than janthe should receive;  
So it did then appear  
That single favours were  
Too little for great Solyman to give.   Soly. 

Much is to every Beauty due:  
Then how much more to all  
Those divers forms we Beauty call;  
And all are reconciled in you?  
But those who here for Peace by Treaty look  
Must meet with that which Beauty least can brook;  
Delay of Court, which makes the Blood so cold  
That youngest Agents here look Pale and Old.  
Here you must tedious forms of Power obey.—  
Your business will all Night require your stay.   jant. 

Business, abroad at Night? sure business then  
Only becomes the confidence of Men.  
Those who the greatest wanderers are,  
Wild Birds, that in the day  
Frequent no certain way,  
And know no limits in the Air,  
Will still at Night discreetly come  
And take their civil rest at home.   Soly. 

Is the protection of my power so slight,  
That in my Camp you are afraid of Night?   jant. 

Stay in the Camp at Night, and Rhodes so near,  
Honour my guide, and grieved Alphonso there?   Soly. 

Treaties are long, my Bassas old and slow:  
With whom you must debate before you go.  
Let not your cause by any absence fail.  
Your beauteous presence may on Age prevail.   jant. 

Alas, I came not to capitulate,  
And show a love of Speech by long debate: She kneels.  
But to implore from Soliman what he  
To Rhodes may quickly grant,  
And never feel a want  
Of that which by dispatch would doubled be.   Soly. 

janthe rise! your grief may pity move;  
But graceful grief,  
Whilst it does seek relief  
May pity lead to dangerous ways of Love.   jant. 

Why Heaven, was I mistaken when I thought  
That I the coursest shape had brought  
And the most withered too that sorrow wears?   Soly. 

If you would withered seem restrain your Tears.  
The morning Dew makes Roses blow  
And sweeter smell and fresher show.  
Take heed, janthe, you may be too blame.  
Did you not trust me when you hither came?  
Will you my honour now too late suspect,  
When only that can yours protect?   jant. 

If of your virtue my extreme belief  
May virtuous favour gain,  
My tears I will restrain.  
It is my faith shall save me not my grief.   Soly. 

Conduct her straight to Roxolana's Tent:  
And tell my haughty Empress I have sent  
Such a mysterious Present as will prove  
A Riddle both to Honour and to Love.   [Exeunt several ways. The Scene returns to that of the Town Besieged. Enter Admiral. Adm. 

Dwells not Alphonso in janthes Breast▪  
As Prince of that fair Palace, not a Guest?  
Can it be virtue in a Rhodian Knight  
To seek possession of another's right?  
Yet how can I his Title there destroy  
By loving that which he may still enjoy?  
My passion will no less than virtue prove  
Whilst it does much janthes virtue love.  
If in her absence I her safety fear,  
'tis virtuous kindness then to wish her here.  
But of her dangers I in vain  
Shall with my watchful fears complain  
Till he grow fearful too, whose fears must be  
Raised to the Husband's virtue, Jealousy.—   Enter Villerius, Marshal. Vill. 

Does he not seem  
As if in Dream,  
His course by storm were on the Ocean lost?   Mar. 
He now draws Cards to shun a rocky Coast.  Adm. 

The foolish world does Jealousy mistake:  
'Tis civil care, which kindness does improve.  
Perhaps the Jealous are too much awake;  
But others dully sleep o'er those they love.  
He must be jealous made, for that kind fear,  
When known, will quickly bring and stay her here.   Vill. 

What can thy silence now portend,  
When the assembled People send  
Their thankfulness to Heaven in one loud Voice?  
The hungry, wounded, and the sick rejoice.   Mar. 

Our Quires in long procession sing,  
The Bells of all our Temples ring,  
Our Enemies  
Begin to rise,  
And from our Walls are to their Camp retired  
To see janthe there in triumph shown.  
Their Canon in a loud Salute are fired,  
And echoed too by louder of our own.  
Who is so dully bred,  
Or rather who so dead  
Whom fair janthes triumph cannot move?  
From th' Ocean's bosom it will call,  
A sinking Admiral  
Who flies to stormy Seas from storms of Love.   Enter Alphonso. Alph. 

Our Foes (great Master) wear the looks of friends.  
A Zanjack from the Camp attends  
Behind the outlet of the Peer;  
And he demands your private ear.   [Exit Villerius. Adm. 
Would you had met janthe there.  Alph. 

Since well received, you wish her here too soon.  
The morning led her out  
And we may doubt  
How her dispatch could bring her back ere Noon.   Adm. 

Her high reception was but justly due;  
Who with such noble confidence,  
Could with her Sex's fears dispense,  
And trusting Solyman could part from you.   Alph. 

By that we may discern her rising mind  
O'er all the Pinnacles of Female kind.   Adm. 

Strangely she shunned what Custom does afford,  
The pledges of his Pass and plighted word.   Alph. 

Not knowing guilt, she knows no fear,  
And still must strange in all appear,  
As well as singular in this;  
The Crowd of Common gazers fill  
Their eyes with objects low and ill,  
But she a high and good Example is.   Enter Villerius, Marshal. Mar. 
janthes' Laurels hourly will increase!  Vill. 

I have received some secret signs of peace  
From Mustapha, whose trusted Messenger  
Has brought me counsel how to counsel her.  
She must a while make such appliances  
As may the haughty Roxolana please,  
To whom she now by Solyman is sent,  
And does remain our Lieger in her Tent.   Adm. 

In Turkish Dialect, that word, remain,  
May many sums of tedious hours contain:  
And in a Rhodian Lovers swift account,  
To what a Debt will that sad reckoning mount?   Vill. 

To night, Alphonso, you must sleep alone.  
But Time is swift, a night is quickly gone.  
For Lover's nights are like their slumbers, short.—  
I must dispatch this Zanjack to the Court.   Alph. 

The quiet Bed of Lovers is the Grave; Exeunt Villerius, Marshal.  
For we in Death, no sense of absence have.   Adm. 

Rhodes in her view, her Tent within your sight!  
And yet to be divided a whole Night!   Alph. 

A single night would many ages seem,  
Were I not sure that we shall meet in Dream.   Adm. 

She must no more such dangerous Visits make,  
Methinks I grow malicious for your sake,  
And rather wish Rhodes should of freedom fail,  
Than that janthes power should now prevail.   Alph. 
Your words mysterious grow.  Adm. 

Alphonso, no.  
For if whilst thus you for her absence mourn▪  
Her power should much appear,  
She'll want excuse,  
Unless she use  
A little of that power, for her Return  
To day, and nightly resting here.   Alph. 

The hardened Steel of Solyman is such,  
As with the Edge does all the World command,  
And yet that Edge is softened with the touch  
Of Roxolana's gentle hand.  
And as his hardness yields, when she is near,  
So may janthes softness govern her.   Adm. 

The day sufficient seems for all address,  
And is at Court the season of access;  
Deprive not Roxolana of her right;  
Let th' Empress lie with Solyman at night.  
And as that privilege to her is due,  
So should janthe sleep at Rhodes with you.   Alph. 

I'll write! The Zanjack for my Letter stays;  
Love walks his round, and leads me in a Maze.   Exit. Adm. 

Love does Alphonso in a Circle lead;  
And none can trace the ways which I must tread.  
Lovers, in searching Loves Records, will find  
But very few like me,  
That still would Virtuous be,  
Whilst to another's Wife I still am kind.  
And whilst that Wife I like a Lover woo,  
I use all art  
That from her Husband she may never part,  
And yet even then would make him Jealous too.   Exit. The Scene returns to that of the Camp. Enter Roxolana, Haly. Roxol. 

Think, Haly, think, what I should swiftly do?  
A Rhodian Lady, and a Beauty too,  
In my Pavilion lodged? It serves to prove  
His settled hatred and his wandering Love.  
Who did he send to plant this Canker here?   Haly. 
Old Bassa Mustapha.  Roxol. 

Bid him appear. Exit Haly.  
Hope, thou growest weak, and thou hast been too strong.  
Like Night, thou com'st too soon, and stayest too long.  
Hence! smiling Hope! with growing Infants play:  
If I dismiss thee not, I know  
Thou of thyself wilt go,  
And canst no longer than my Beauty stay.  
I'll open all the Doors to let thee out:  
And then call in thy next Successor, Doubt.  
Come Doubt, and bring thy lean Companion, Care.  
And, when you both are lodged, bring in Despair.   Enter Mustapha, Haly. Must. 

Our opening Buds, and falling Blossoms, all  
That we can fresh and fragrant call,  
That Spring can promise, and the Summer pay,  
Be strewed in Roxolana's way.  
On Nature's fairest Carpets let her tread;  
And there, through Calms of peace, long may she lead  
That Power which we have followed far,  
And painfully, through storms of Warr.   Roxol. 

Blessings are cheap, and those you can afford:  
Yet you are kinder than your frowning Lord.  
I dare accuse him; but it is too late.— Weeps.  
What means that pretty property of State,  
Which is from Rhodes for Midnight Treaties sent?  
Private Cabals of Lovers in my Tent?  
Your Valour, Mustapha, served to convey  
Loves fresh supplies. You Soldiers can make way.  
Was it not greatly done to bring her here?   Must. 

Duty in that did overrule my fear.  
It was the Mighty Soliman's command.   Roxol. 

Thou fatal Fool! how canst thou think  
To find a Basis where thou firm mayest stand  
On those rough Waters where I sink?   Must. 

If Roxolana were not ranked above  
Mankind, she straight would fall  
Before that Power which all  
The valiant follow, and the virtuous love.   Roxol. 

I grow immortal; for I Life disdain:  
Which ill with thy dislike of Dying suits.  
Yet thou, for safety, fear'st great power in vain;  
Who here, art but a Subject to my Mutes.—   Mastapha Draws a Parchment. Must. 

Peruse the dreaded Will of angered Power;  
Touched with the Signet of the Emperor:  
It does enjoin janthes safety here:  
She must be sought with Love, and served with Fear.  
This disobeyed; your Mutes, who still make haste  
To cruelty, may rest for want of breath.  
'tis ordered they shall suddenly be past  
Their making signs, and shall be dumb with Death.  
This dreadful Doom from Solyman I give.  
But if his will, which is our Law,  
Be met with an obedient awe,  
The Empress then may long in triumph Live.   She weeps. Roxol. 

begone! thy Duty is officious fear.  
If I am soft enough to grieve,  
It is to see the Sultan leave  
The Warring World, and end his Conquests here.—  
Crawl to my Sultan still, officious grow!  
Ebb with his love, and with his anger flow.   Exit Mustapha. Haly. 

Preserve with temper your Imperial mind;  
And, till you can express  
Your wrath with good success,  
By angering others to yourself be kind.—   Roxol. 

If thou canst weep, thou canst endure to bleed:  
Men who Compassion feel have Valour too:  
I shall thy Courage more than Pity need:  
Dar'st thou contrive as much as I dare do?   Haly. 
I'll on, as far as weary Life can go.  Roxol. 

Then I shall want no aid to my design:  
we'll dig below them, and blow up their Mine.   Exeunt.  

The Fourth Act.  The Scene returns to that of the Town Beleaguered. Enter Solyman, Mustapha, Rustan. Soly. 
CAn Roxolana such a Rival bear?  Must. 

She has her fits of courage and of fear.  
As she does high against your anger grow,  
So, trusting straight your Love, she stoops as low.   Soly. 

Her Chamber-Tempests I have known too well:  
She quickly can with winds of passion swell;  
And then as quickly has the Woman's power  
Of laying Tempests with a weeping shower.  
What looks does the detained janthe show?   Must. 
She still is calm in all her fears,  Rust. 

And seems so Lovely in her Tears  
As when the Morning's face is washed in Dew.   Enter Pyrrhus. Pirrh. 

The world salutes you Sultan! Every Power  
Does shrink before your Throne; and every hour  
A flying Packet or an Agent brings  
From Asia, Africa, and European Kings.—   Soly. 

With Packets to old Zanger go;  
Who, freed from action, can with sleep dispense;  
And having little now to do,  
May read dull Volumes of Intelligence.  
These Writing-Princes covet to seem wise  
In Packets, and by formal Embassies:  
They would with Symphonies of civil words  
(Sweet sounds of Court) charm rudeness from our Swords:  
Teach us to lay our Gauntlets by,  
That they unarmed, and harmlessly,  
From farthest Realms, by Proxy, might shake hands;  
And, offering useless friendship, save their Lands.   Exeunt. Enter Villerius, Alphonso, Admiral, Marshal. Adm. 

He came disguised, who brought your Letter here,  
And sought such privacy as argued fear.   Mar. 

But (sovereign Master) yours did seem to be  
Conveyed by one less pained with Secrecy;  
Who does for answer stay.   Vill. 

Mine came from Mustapha.  
It would import a promising increase  
Of our Conditions by approaching peace.  
But does request us to consent  
That fair janthe may yet longer stay  
In powerful Roxolana's Tent;  
And that request we understand  
As a command  
Which, though we would not grant, we must obey.   Alph. 

Mine by a Christian Slave was brought;  
Who from the E'unuch Bassa, Haly, came;  
And was by Roxolana wrote:  
See the Sultana's Signet and her Name.  
She writes— but oh! why have I breath  
To tell, how much 'tis worse than Death  
Not to be Dead  
Ere I again this Letter read?   Adm. 
Oh my prophetic fear!  Alph. 

She writes, that if I hold my honour dear;  
Or if janthe does that honour prize,  
I should with all the art  
Of love, confirm her heart,  
And straight from Solyman divert her Eyes.   Adm. 
Who knows what end this dire beginning bodes?  Alph. 

And here she likewise says,  
He to janthe lays  
A closer Siege than ere he did to Rhodes.   Adm. 

janthe, I will still my Love pursue; Aside.  
Be kind to thee, and to Alphonso true:  
But Loves small policies Great Honour now  
Will hardly to my Rival-ship allow:  
Those little Arts, bold Duke, I must lay by  
And urge thy Courage more than Jealousy.   Vill. 
Where is thy honour now, famed Eastern Lord?  Adm. 
Why sought we not his Passport or his Word?  Alph. 

How durst janthe have so little fear  
As to believe  
That in the Camp she could receive  
Freedom from him who did besiege her here?   Adm. 

Whilst in her own dispose she here remained  
I of the bravery of her trust complained:  
Her generous faith too meanly was deceived,  
And must not be upbraided but relieved.   Vill. 

To rescue Rhodes she did herself forsake;  
And Rhodes shall nobly pay that virtue back.   Alph. 

Great Master! what shall poor Alphonso do?  
Since all he has Ianthe's is;  
And now in this  
Must owe janthe and her fame to you.   Vill. 
If any virtue can in Valour be:  Adm. 
Or any Valour in a Rhodian Knight:  Alph. 
Or any Lover can have Loyalty.  Vill. 
Or any Warrior can in Love delight.  Mar. 
If absence makes not mighty Love grow less.  Adm. 
Or gentle Lovers can compassion feel.  Alph. 

If Loyal Beauty, when in deep distress,  
Can melt our hearts, and harden all our Steel.   Vill. 

Then let us here in sacred Vows combine.  
My Vow is sealed—   They join their Swords. Adm. 
And mine.—  Mar. 
And mine.—  Alph. 
And trebly mine.—  Vill. 

Behold us, Fame, then stay thy flight,  
And hover o'er our Towers to Night.  
Fresh wings together with the Morning take;  
As early as afflicted Lovers wake.  
Then Tell the World that we have joined our Swords;  
But 'tis for grieved janthe, not for Rhodes.   Alph. 

Now we shall prosper, who were weary grown  
In Rhodes, and never could successful prove  
When Empire led us forth to seek Renown,  
For honour should no Leader have but Love.   Exeunt omnes. The Scene is Changed. Being wholly filled with Roxolana's Rich Pavilion, Wherein is discerned at distance, janthe sleeping on a Couch; Roxolana at one End of it, and Haly at the other; Guards of Eunuchs are Discovered at the wings of the Pavilion; Roxolana having a Turkish Embroidered Handkerchief in her left hand, And a naked Poniard in her right. Roxol. 

THou dost from beauty Solyman,  
As much refrain as nature can;  
Who, making Beauty, meant it should be loved.  
But how can I my Station keep  
Till thou, janthe, art by Death removed?  
To Die, when thou art young,  
Is but too soon to fall asleep  
And lie asleep too long.   Haly. 

Your Dreadful will what power can here Command  
But pity? Oh let pity stay your hand!—   Roxol. 

Sultan, I will not weep, because my tears  
Cannot suffice to Quench thy loves false flame:  
Nor will I to a paleness bleed,  
To show my loves true fears,  
Because I rather need  
More blood to help to blush away thy shame.   Haly. 

How far are all his former Virtues gone?  
Turn back the progress of forgetful Time:  
The many Favours by your Sultan done  
Should now excuse him for one purposed crime.   Roxol. 

Haly, Consult! Can I do ill  
If many foul adult'ries I prevent,  
When I but one Fair Mistress kill?   Haly. 

Be not too early here with Punishment.  
Your Sultan now  
Does only show  
The grudge of a Lovers feaurish fit.  
You find his inclinations strange,  
But, being new, they soon may change;  
And they have reached but to intention yet.   Roxol. 

Long before deeds Heaven calls intention sin.  
'tis good to end what he would ill begin.   Haly. 

Do not relinquish yet your first design.  
Before you darken all her Light  
Examine, by your judging Sight,  
If in your Sphere she can unblemished shine.  
You meant to prove her Virtue and first try  
How well she here could as a Rival live,  
ere as a judged Adultress she should Die:  
In pardoning her you Solyman forgive.  
And can you add to your loved greatness more  
When able to forgive the greatest power?   Roxol. 

Tell me again Alphonso's short reply  
When I by letter waked his Jealousy;  
And counselled him to write and to advise  
His wife to lock her Breast, and shut her Eyes?   Haly. 

With silence first he did his sorrows bear;  
Then anger raised him, till he fell with fear:  
At last, said she was now past Counsel grown;  
Or else could take no better than her own.   Roxol. 

His thoughts a double Vizard wear,  
And only lead me to suspense,  
It seems he does her dangers fear,  
And fain would trust her innocence.  
Wake her! I will pursue my first design.—   Haly. 

I go to draw the Curtain of a shrine.—  
Awake! Behold the powerful Empress here.   janthe rises and walks at distance from Roxolana. jant. 

Heaven has the greatest power;  
Heaven seeks our love, and kindly comforts fear.  
This is my fatal hour.   Roxol. 

Though beauteous when she slept  
Yet now would I had kept  
Her safely sleeping still.  
She, waking, turns my Envy into shame;  
And does it so reclaim  
That I am Conquered who came here to kill.   jant. 

What dangers should I fear?  
Her brow grows smooth and clear:  
Yet so much greatness cannot want disguise.  
The Great live all within;  
And are but seldom seen  
Looking abroad through Casements of their Eyes.   Roxol. 
Have courage fair Sicilian, and come near.—  jant. 
My distance shows my Duty more than fear.  Roxol. 

I have a Present for you, and 'tis such  
As comes from one who does believe  
It is for you too little to receive;  
And I, perhaps, may think it is too much.   jant. 

Who dares be bountiful to low distress?  
Who to janthe can a Present make  
When Rhodes besieged has all she would possess;  
And all the world does ruined Rhodes forsake?   Roxol. 

The Present will not make the Giver poor;  
And, though 'tis single now, it quickly can  
Be multiplied; you shall have many more.  
It is this kiss— It comes from Solyman.   jant. 

You did your Creature courage give;  
And made me hope that I had leave to live  
When you from duteous distance called me near:  
But now I soon shall courage lack:  
I am amazed, and must go back:  
Amazement is the uggli'st shape of fear.   Roxol. 
Are Christian Ladies so reserved and shy?  jant. 

Our sacred Law does give  
Them precepts how to live,  
And Nature tells them they must Die.   Roxol. 

'tis well they to their Husbands are so true.  
But speak, janthe, are they all like you?   jant. 

I hope they are, and better too,  
Or, if they are not, will be so.   Roxol. 

They have been strangely injured then.  
But Rumour does mistake.  
Some say they visits make;  
And they are visited by Men.   jant. 

What custom does avow  
Our Laws in Time allow;  
And those who never guilty be  
Suspect not others liberty.   Roxol. 

This would in Asia wonderful appear:  
But Time may introduce that Fashion here.  
Come nearer! Is your Husband kind and true?   jant. 

If good to good I may compare  
(Excepting Greatness) I would dare  
To say, he is as Solyman to you.   Roxol. 

As he to me? How strong is innocence?  
Prevailing till 'tis free to give offence.  
Indeed, Alphonso, has a large renown;  
Which does so daily spread  
As it the world may lead;  
And should not be contracted in a Town.   jant. 

As we in all agree  
So he will prove like me  
A lowly servant to your rising Fame.   Roxol. 

But is he kind to you, and free from blame?  
Civil by day, and loyal too at Night?   jant. 

By Nature not by skill  
He is as cheerful still  
And as unblemished as unshaded light.   Roxol. 

These Christian-Turtles live too happily.  
I wish, for breed, they would to Asia fly.—  
You must not at such distance stand;  
Draw near, and give me your fair hand.—  
I have another Present for you now;  
And such a Present as I know  
You will much better than the first allow;  
Though Solyman will not esteem it so.  
'tis from myself— of friendship such a Seal— [Kisses her.  
As you to Solyman must ne'er reveal.—  
And that I may be more assured,  
By this again you are conjured.—   jant. 

Presents so good and great as these  
I should receive upon my knees.   Roxol. 

I will not, lest I may revive your fear,  
Relate the cause of your confinement here.  
But know, I must  
Your virtue trust;  
Which, proving loyal, you are safe in mine.   jant. 
The light of Angels still about you shine!  Haly. 

The dangerous secrets of th' Imperial Bed Haly takes janthe aside.  
Are darker than the riddles of the Throne.  
The Glass, in which their Characters are read  
We Eunuchs grinned, and 'tis but seldom shown.   jant. 

I shall with close and wary Eyes  
Retire from all your Mysteries.  
And when occasion shall my honour trust,  
You'll find I have some courage, and am just.   Roxol. 

Perhaps, janthe, you may shortly hear  
Of Clouds, which threatening me, may urge your fear.  
Be virtuous still! 'tis true my Sultan frowns,— [She weeps.  
But, let him win more Battles, take more Towns;  
And be all day the fore-most in the Fight;  
Yet he shall find that I will rule at Night.   [Haly looks in. Haly. 

The Guards increase, and many Mutes appear,  
Lifting their Lights, to show the Sultan near.   Roxol. 

My new sealed friendship I must now lay by  
A while, and seem your jealous Enemy.  
Be to yourself, and to Alphonso true.   jant. 
As he to me, and virtue is to you.  [janthe steps at distance. Enter Solyman. Soly. 

Has Night lost all her dark dominion here?  
High hopes disturb your sleep;  
But I suspect you keep  
janthe waking not with hope but fear.   Roxol. 

Too well, and much too soon I know  
Whom you are pleased to grace:  
However, since it must be so,  
You'll find I can give place.   Soly. 

You had a place, too near me, and too high.  
If but a little you remove  
From place of Empire or of love  
You soon become but as a stander-by.  
One step descending from a shining Throne,  
You to the darkest depth fall swiftly down.   Roxol. 

If I sat nearer to you than 'twas fit  
For Empire's Heralds to admit,  
(I being born below, and you above)  
Pray call in Death, and I'll, even then, bring Love.  
To these all places equal be;  
For Love and Death know no degree.   Soly. 
I cannot Passions riddles understand.  Roxol. 

You still have present Death at your Command;  
But former Love you have laid by:  
Which, being gone, you know that I can Die.—   [Weeps. Soly. 

I better know that you have cause to weep. [Turns to janthe.  
janthe, all is calm within your Breast,  
Retire into the quiet shade of sleep,  
And let not watchful fear divert your rest.  
Let all the Nations of my Camp suffice,  
As Guards, to keep you from my Enemies;  
(For of your own  
You can have none)  
Whilst I but as Love's Sent'nel on you wait,  
Armed with his Bow, at your Pavilion Gate.   jant. 

Heaven put it in your mighty mind  
Quickly to be,  
More than to me,  
To all the Valiant Rhodians kind.  
And may you grieve to think how many mourn  
Till you shall end their griefs at my return.   Soly. 

You shall not Languish with delay.  
But this is business for the day.  
'tis now so late at Night that all Love's spies,  
Parents, and Husbands too,  
The watchful, and the Watched seal up their Eyes;  
And Lovers cease to woo.   [Exeunt Haly, janthe. Roxol. 

You alter every year the World's known face;  
Whilst Cities you remove, and Nations chase.  
These great mutations (which, with shrill  
And ceaseless sounds, Fame's Trumpet fill,  
And shall seem wonders in her brazen Books)  
Much less amaze me than your altered looks;  
Where I can read your Loves more fatal change.   Soly. 
You make my frowns, yet seem to think them strange.  Roxol. 
You seek a Stranger, and abandon me.  Soly. 
Strange Coasts are welcome after Storms at Sea.  Roxol. 

That various mind will wander very far,  
Which, more than home, a foreign Land prefers.   Soly. 

The wise, for quietness, when civil War  
Does rage at home, turn private Travellers.   Roxol. 
Your loves long frost has made my bosom cold.  Soly. 
Let not the cause be in your Story told.  Roxol. 

A colder heart Death's hand has never felt:  
But 'tis such Ice as you may break, or melt.—   [She weeps. Soly. 

I never shall complain  
When you are wet with Rain,  
Which softer passion, does thus gently power.  
What more in Season is than such a shower?  
You still, through little Clouds, would lovely show,  
Were all your April-weather calm as now.  
But March resembles more your haughty Mind;  
Froward and loud oftener than calmly kind.  
Weather which may not inconvenient prove  
To Country Lovers, born but to make love:  
Who grieve not when they mutual kindness doubt,  
But with indiff'rence meet a frown or smile;  
As having frequent leisure to fall out,  
And their divided breasts to reconcile.   Roxol. 

The world had less sad business known, if you  
Had been ordained for so much leisure too.   Soly. 

Monarchs, who onward still with Conquest move  
Can only for their short diversion love.  
When a black Cloud in Beauty's sky appears,  
They cannot wait till Time the Tempest clears.  
Whilst they, to save a sullen Mistress, stay,  
The world's Dominion may be cast away.   Roxol. 

Why is Dominion prized above  
Wise Nature's great concernment, Love?   Soly. 

Of Heaven what have we found, which we do more  
And sooner, than exceeding Power adore?  
The wondrous things which that Chief Power has done,  
Are to those early Spies, our Senses, shown:  
And must at length to Reason be assured:  
Yet how, or what, Heaven loves is much obscured,  
And our uncertain love  
(Perhaps not bred above,  
But in low Regions, like the wandering winds)  
Shows different Sexes more than equal Minds.   Roxol. 

Your love, indeed, is prone to change,  
And like the wandering Wind does range.  
The gale a while towards Cyprus blew;  
It turned to Crect, and stronger grew;  
Then, on the Lycian shore, it favoured me:  
But now, janthe seeks in Sicily.   Soly. 

In progresses of War and Love  
Victors with equal haste must move:  
And in attempts of either make no stay:  
They can but Visit, Conquer, and away.   Roxol. 

Love's most Victorious and most cruel Foe!  
Forsake me, and to meaner Conquests go▪  
To Wars, where you may Sack and Over run,  
Till your Success has all the World undone.  
Advance those Trophies which you ought to hide;  
For wherefore are they raised  
But to have slaughter praised,  
And courage, which is but applauded pride?   Soly. 

In so much Rain I knew a Gust would come:  
I'll shun the rising Storm and give it room.   Roxol. 

Love's Foes are ever hasty in Retreat;  
You can march off; but 'tis for fear  
Lest you should hear  
Those Mournings which your cruelties beget.   Soly. 

The fear is wise which you upbrayed;  
For, whilst thus terrible you grow,  
I must confess, I am afraid,  
And not ashamed of being so.   Roxol. 

Go where you cover greater fear  
Than that which you dissemble here:  
Where you breed ill your misbegotten Fame,  
When charging Armies and assaulting Towns,  
You ravish Nations with as little shame  
As now you show in your injurious frowns.   Soly. 

If we grow fearful at the face of War,  
You, justly, may our terror blame,  
Since, by your dare, we might learn to dare.  
Would you as well could teach us shame.   Roxol. 

Your fears appear, even in your dare, great;  
You would not else sound cheerful Trumpets when  
The charge begins, whilst Drums with Clamour beat,  
To raise the courage of your mighty Men.  
With Wars loud Music shouts are mingled too;  
Which boastingly such cruel deeds proclaim  
As Beasts, through thickest Furs, would blush to do.  
Your wives may breed up Wolves to teach you shame.   Soly. 

'tis not still dangerous when you angry grow:  
For, Roxolana, you can anger show  
To those whom you, perhaps, can never hate.  
This passion is; but you have crimes of State.   Roxol. 
Call Nature to be Judge! what have I done?  Soly. 
You have a Husband lost to save a Son.  Roxol. 
Sultan, that Son is yours as much mine.  Soly. 

He has some lustre got in Fight;  
But yet, beyond the dawning light  
Of his new glory, Mustapha does shine;  
Who is the Pledge of my Circasian Wife;  
And from my blood as great a share of life  
May challenge as your Son. Has he not worn  
A Victor's Wreath? He is my Eldest born.   Roxol. 

Because her Son the Empire shall enjoy,  
Must therefore strangling Mutes my Sons destroy?  
Since Eldest born you may him Empire give:  
But mine, as well as he were born to Live.  
They may, as yours, though by a second Wife,  
Inherit that which Nature gave them, Life.   Soly. 

Whilst any Life I show by any breath,  
Who dares approach them in the shape of Death?   Roxol. 

When you to Heaven's high Palace shall remove,  
To meet much more compassion there  
Than you have ever felt, and far more love  
Than ere your heart required here;  
Will not your Bassas then presume to do  
What custom warrants and our Priesthood too?   Soly. 

Those are the secret Nerves of Empire's force.  
Empire grows often high.  
By rules of cruelty,  
But seldom prospers when it feels remorse.   Roxol. 

Accursed Empire! got and bred by Art!  
Let Nature govern, or at least  
Divide our Mutual interest:  
Yield yours to Death, and keep alive my part.   Soly. 

Beauty retire! Thou dost my pity move!  
Believe my pity, and then trust my love!— [Exit Roxolana.  
At first I thought her by our Prophet sent  
As a reward for Valour's toils;  
More worth than all my Father's spoils:  
And now, she is become my punishment.  
But thou art just, O Power Divine!  
With new and painful Arts  
Of studied War I break the Hearts  
Of half the World, and she breaks mine.   [Exit.  

The Fifth Act.  The Scene is changed to a Prospect of Rhodes by night, and the Grand Master's Palace on Fire. Enter Solyman, Pyrrhus, Rustan. Soly. 

LOok Pyrrhus, Look! what means that sudden light,  
Which casts a paleness o'er the face of Night?  
The Flame shows dreadful, and ascends still higher?   Pirrh. 
The Rhodian Master's Palace is on Fire!  Rust. 
A greater from Saint George's Tower does shine!  Soly. 
Chance it would seem, but does import design!  Enter Mustapha. Must. 
Their Flagg of Treaty they have taken in!  Soly. 
Dare they this ending War again begin?  Pirrh. 
They feed their flames to light their forces out!  Rust. 
And now, seem sallying from the French Redoubt!  Must. 
Old Orcan takes already the Alarm!  Soly. 
Need they make fires to keep their Courage warm?  Pirrh. 
The English now advance!  Soly. 

Let them proceed!  
Their Cross is bloody, and they come to bleed.  
Set all the Turnpikes open, let them in!  
Those Island Gamesters may,  
(Who Desperately for honour play)  
Behold fair stakes, and try what they can win.   [Exeunt omnes. Enter Villerius, Alphonso, Admiral, Marshal. Vill. 

Burn, Palace, burn! Thy flame more beauteous grows  
Whilst higher it ascends.  
That now must serve to light us to our Foes  
Which long has lodged our Friends.   Alph. 

It serves not only as a light  
To guide us in so black a Night;  
But to our Enemies will terror give.   Mar. 

Who (seeing we so much destroy,  
What we in triumph did enjoy,  
That now we know not where to Live)  
Will straight conclude that boldly we dare die.   Vill. 

And those, who to themselves loved life deny,  
Want seldom Power to aid their will  
When they would others kill.   Adm. 

Speak both of killing and of saving too.  
The utmost that our Valour now can do  
Is when, by many Bassas, Prisoners ta'en,  
We freedom for distressed janthe gain.   Alph. 

A Jewel too sufficient to redeem  
Great Solyman were he in Chains with them.   Vill. 

Here spread our Front! Our Rear is all come forth.  
We lead Two Thousand Rhodian Knights;  
All skilled in various Fights:  
Fame's Role contains no names of higher worth.  
In whispers give command  
To make a stand!   Adm. 
Stand!  Within. 
1 Stand! 2 Stand! 3 Stand!  Vill. 
Divide our Knights, and all their Martial Train!  Alph. 
Let me by Storm the Sultan's Quarter gain.  Adm. 
My Lot directs my Wing to Mustapha.  Mar. 
To Pyrrhus, o'er his Trench, I'll force my way.  Vill. 

Our honour bids us give a brave defeat;  
Whilst Prudence Caves Reserves for a Retreat.  
All Lovers are concerned in what we do.  
Love's Crown depends on you, on you, and you.  
Love's Bow is not so fatal as my Sword.   Alph. 
As mine.  Adm. 
And mine.  Together. 
janthe is the Word.  [Exeunt. A Symphony expressing a Battle is played awhile. Enter Solyman. Soly. 

MOre Horse! more Horse, to shake their Ranks!  
Bid Orchan haste to gall their Flanks.  
Few Rhodian Knights, making their several stands,  
Out-strike Assemblies of our many Hands.   Enter Mustapha, Rustan. Must. 
Morat, and Valiant Zangiban are slain.  Rust. 
But Orcan does their yielded ground regain.  Soly. 

Our Crescents shine not in the shade of Night.  
But now the Crescent of the Sky appears;  
Our valour rises with her lucky light;  
And all our Fighters blush away their fears.   Enter Pyrrhus. Pirrh. 

More Pikes! and pass the French! fall in! fall in!  
That we may gain the day ere day begin.   Soly. 

Advance with all our Guards! This doubtful strife  
Less grieves me than our odds  
Of number against Rhodes;  
By which we honour lose to rescue Life.   [Exeunt. A Symphany sounds a Battle again. The Scene Returns to the Town Besieged. Enter Villerius, Marshal. Vill. 

SEnd back! send back! to quench our fatal fire!  
ere Morning does advance we must retire;  
Justly ashamed to let the days great Light  
Show what a little we have done to Night.   Enter Admiral. Adm. 

We have been Shipwrecked in a Midnight storm;  
Who hither came (Great Master) to perform  
Such deeds as might have given us cause to boast.   Mar. 

We found the Night too black,  
And now no use can make  
Of Day but to discern that we are lost.   Vill. 

Can thy great Courage mention our defeat  
Whilst any Life is left to make retreat?   Adm. 
It is a just rebuke.  Vill. 
Where is the Duke?  Adm. 

Long tired with Valour's toils, and in his Breast  
O'er charged with Lovers griefs, he sought for rest.  
To Fame's eternal Temple he is gone.  
And I may fear  
Is entered there,  
Where Death does keep the narrow Gate,  
And lets in none  
But those whom painful Honour brings,  
Many, without, in vain for entrance wait,  
With warrants sealed by mighty Kings.   Vill. 

Villerius never yet by Turkish Swords  
Was cut so deep as by thy wounding words.  
Is that great Youth, the Prince of Lovers, slain?   Adm. 

Who knows how much of Life he does retain?  
Twice I relieved him from the double force  
Of Zangibans old foot, and Orcan's Horse.  
My strength was over-pow'rd; and he still bent  
To follow Honour to the Sultan's Tent.   Mar. 

Alphonso's Story has this sudden end:  
janthe may a longer fate attend.   Vill. 

Of Life's chief hope we are bereft.  
Go rally all whom Death has left.  
Let our remaining Knights make good the Peer.  
Our hearts will serve to beat,  
Unheard, a stolen Retreat.   Adm. 
But shall we leave janthe Captive here?  Vill. 

I'll to our Temple force our way;  
And there for her redemption pray:  
Her freedom now depends on our return.  
In Temples we shall nothing gain  
From Heaven, whilst we of loss complain:  
we'll for our Crimes, not for our Losses, mourn.   [Exeunt. Enter Solyman, Pyrrhus. Soly. 

Let us no more the Rhodians flight pursue;  
Who since below our anger, need our care.  
Compassion is to vanquished Valour due  
Which was not cruel in successful Warr.   Pirrh. 

Our Sultan does his power from Heaven derive,  
'Tis raised above the reach of human force:  
It could not else with soft compassion thrive:  
For few are gained or mended by remorse.  
The world is wicked grown, and wicked men  
(Since jealous still of those whom they have harmed)  
Are but enabled to offend again  
When they are pardoned and left armed.   Enter Mustapha, Rustan. Must. 

The Rhodians will no more in Arms appear:  
They now are lost before they lose their Town.   Rust. 

They may their Standards hide and Ensigns tear:  
For what's the Body when the Soul is gone?   Must. 

The Prisoner whom in doubtful fight we took  
(Who long maintained the strife,  
For freedom more than life)  
Is young Alphonso, the Sicilian Duke.   Soly. 

Fortune could never find, if she had Eyes,  
A Present for me which I more would prize.   [Enter Haly. Haly. 

Your Bosom-slave (the Creature which your power  
Has made in all the world the greatest Wife)  
Did all this dangerous Night kneel and implore  
That Heaven would give you length of happy life,  
In measure to your breadth of spreading Fame,  
And to the height of Ottamans' high name.   Soly. 

Tell Roxolana I esteem her love  
So much that I her anger fear;  
And whilst with passion I the one approve  
The other I with temper bear.   Haly. 

She charged me not to undertake t' express  
With how much grief her Eyes did melt  
When she this Night your dangers felt;  
Nor how much joy she showed at your Success.  
She hears that you have Prisoner took  
The bold Sicilian Duke:  
And begs he may be straight at her dispose;  
That you may try how she can use your Foes.   Soly. 

This furious Rhodian Sally could not be  
Provoked but by his Jealousy of me.   Must. 
He wanted honour who could yours suspect.  Pirrh. 
The rash, by Jealousy, themselves detect.  Soly. 

His jealousy shall meet with punishment.  
Convey him straight to Roxolana's Tent. Exit Pyrrhus.  
But, Haly, know, the fair janthe must  
Be safe, and free, who did my honour trust.  
You want no Mutes, nor can they want good skill  
To torture or dispatch those whom they Kill.  
But since this Duke's renown did spread and rise  
(Who in attempt at Night  
Has often scaped my sight)  
Take care that I may see him e'er he Dies.   Exeunt several ways. The Scene returns to Roxolana's Pavilion. Enter janthe in her Night Dress. jant. 

IN this Pavilion all have been alarmed.  
The Eunuchs, Mutes, and very Dwarfs were armed.  
The Rhodians have a fatal Sally made;  
And many now, to shun  
The griefs of Love, are run  
Through nights dark walks to Death's detested shade.  
An Eunuch lately cried, Alphonso's slain;  
Now others change my grief,  
And give some small relief,  
By new report that he's but Prisoner ta'en.  
Where, my afflicted Lord,  
Is thy victorions Sword?  
For now (though 'twas too weak to rescue thee)  
It might successful grow  
If thy triumphant Foe  
Would make an end of Love by ending me.   Enter Roxolana. Roxol. 
How fares my Rival, the Sicilian Flower?  jant. 
As wet with Tears as Roses in a shower.  Roxol. 
I brought you Presents when I saw you last.  jant. 

Presents? If you have more,  
Like those you brought before,  
They come too late, unless they make great haste.   Roxol. 
Are you departing without taking leave?  jant. 
I would not you, nor can your Guards deceive.  Roxol. 
You'll pay a farewell to a civil Court?  jant. 
Souls make their parting Ceremonies short.  Roxol. 

The Present which the Sultan sent before  
(Who means to vex your bashfulness no more)  
Was to your Lips, and that you did refuse:  
But this is to your Ear. I bring you news.   jant. 
I hear, my Lord and Rhodes have been too blame.  Roxol. 

It seems you keep intelligence with Fame:  
Or with some frighted Eunuch, her swift Post;  
Who often has from Camps to Cities brought  
The dreadful News of Battles lost  
Before the Field was fought.   jant. 

Then I may hope this is a false alarm;  
And Rhodes has neither done nor taken harm.   Roxol. 
You may believe Alphonso is not slain.  jant. 
Blessed Angel, speak! Nor is he Prisoner ta'en?  Roxol. 
He is a Prisoner, and is given to me.  jant. 
Angels are kind, I know you'll set him free.  Roxol. 
He has some Wounds, placed nobly in his Breast.  jant. 
You soon take back the comfort you have given.  Roxol. 
They are not deep, and are securely dressed.  jant. 
Now you are good again! O heal them Heaven!  Roxol. 

In Heaven, janthe, he may mercy find,  
He must go thither, and leave you behind.   jant. 

I hope I shall discern your looks less strange;  
And your expressions not so full of change.—   Roxol. 

Weep'st thou for him, whose saucy Jealousy  
Durst think the Sultan could be false to me?   jant. 

Though his offence makes him unfit to live,  
I hope it is no crime in me to grieve.   Roxol. 

Soft Fool! bred up in narrow Western Courts;  
Which are by Subjects stormed like Paper-Forts:  
Italian Courts, fair Inns for foreign Posts;  
Where little Princes are but civil Hosts.  
Think'st thou that she, who does wide Empire sway,  
Can breed such storms as Lovers showers allay?  
Can half the World be governed by a Mind  
That shows Domestic pity, and grows kind?   jant. 
Where are those virtuous Vows you lately sealed?  Roxol. 
I did enjoin they should not be revealed.  jant. 
But could you mean they should be broken too?  Roxol. 

Those Seals were counterfeit, and pass  
For nothing, since my Sealing was  
But to a Christian when I sealed to you.   jant. 

Sealed by your precious Lips? What is so sure  
As that which makes the Sultan's heart secure?  
You to Religion many Temple's rear;  
Justice may find one Lodging in your breast.   Roxol. 

Religion is but public fashion here;  
And Justice is but private interest.  
Nature our Sex does to revenge incite;  
And interest counsel us to keep our own.  
Were you not sent to rule with me at Night?  
Love is as shy of Partners as the Throne.  
Haly, prepare the Prisoner; he must Die.   Enter Haly. jant. 

If any has offended, it is I.—  
O think! think upward on the Thrones above.  
Disdain not mercy, since they mercy love.  
If mercy were not mingled with their power,  
This wretched world could not subsist an hour.  
Excuse his innocence; and seize my life!  
Can you mistake the Husband for the Wife?   Roxol. 

Are Christian Wives, so true, and wondrous kind?  
janthe, you can never change my Mind:  
For I did ever mean to keep my Vow:  
Which I renew, and seal it faster now.— Kisses her.  
The Sultan frankly gave thy Lord to me;  
And I as freely render him to thee.   jant. 

To all the world be all your virtues known  
More than the Triumphs of your Sultan's Throne.   Roxol. 
Send in her Lord, to calm her troubled Breast.  Exeunt Roxolana, Haly, several ways. jant. 

Now his departing life may stay;  
But he has Wounds. Yet she did say  
They were not deep, and are securely Dressed.   Enter Haly, Alphonso, his Arms bound. Haly. 

Fate holds your Dice; and here expect the Cast.  
Your chance, if it be bad, will soon be passed.   [Exit. Alph. 

My doom contains not much diversity.  
To live, to die, to be a slave, or free?  
Death sums up all! by Dying we remove  
From all the frowns of Power, and griefs of Love.  
janthe, are you here?  
I will dismiss my fear.  
Death's dreaded Journey I  
Have ended ere I die.  
Death does to Heaven the virtuous lead;  
Which I enjoy ere I am Dead.  
For it is Heaven to me where ere thou art,  
And those who meet in Heaven shall never part.   jant. 

Stay, stay, Alphonso! you proceed too fast;  
For I am changed since you beheld me last.  
In Rhodes I wholly did myself resign  
To serve your power, but you are now in mine.  
And that you may perceive how soon I can  
Melt the Obdurate heart of Solyman;  
Let this confirm your restless Jealousy:  
You came in bound, and thus I make you free.—   [Unbinds him. Alph. 

By this, janthe, you express no more  
Dominion o'er me than you had before.  
In Rhodes I was a Subject to your will:  
Your smiles preserved me, and your frowns did Kill.   jant. 

I know your Tongue too well; which should deceive,  
One who had Studied all the Art  
Of Love rather than her whose heart  
Too simply would your very looks believe.  
But now you know, that though you are unbound,  
Yet still your walk is on the Sultan's ground.   Alph. 

janthe, you are changed indeed  
If, cruelly, you thus proceed.   jant. 

In tracing human Story we shall find  
The cruel more successful than the kind.  
Whilst you are here submitted to my sway,  
It safe discretion were to make you pay  
For all those Sighs and Tears my Heart and Eyes  
Have lost to make you lose your Jealousies.  
But I was bred in Nature's simple School;  
And am but Loves great Fool,  
With whom you rudely play,  
And strike me hard, then struck the pain away.—  
How are your Wounds? I hope you find them slight?   Alph. 

They scarce will need the ripening of a Night:  
Unless, severe janthe, you  
By chiding me, their pains renew.   jant. 
Was it not Jealousy which brought you here?  Alph. 

It was my love, conducted by my fear.  
Fear of your safety, not of virtue, made  
The Rhodians, by surprise, this Camp invade.  
In hope, by bringing home great Prisoners, we  
Might set the Rhodians greater Mistress free.   jant. 

The safety of janthe was not worth  
That courage which misled the Rhodians forth.  
The world's Contagion, Vice, could ne'er infect  
The Sultan's heart: but when you did suspect  
His favours were too great for me to take,  
You then, Alphonso, did unkindly make  
My merit small; as if you knew  
There was to that but little due.  
Or if he wicked were,  
What danger could you fear?  
Since Virtues force all vicious power controls.  
Lucrece a Poniard found, and Porcia Coals.   Alph. 
How low to your high virtue shall I fall?  jant. 

What chance attended in this fatal Night  
The Master, Marshal, and the Admiral?   Alph. 

I lost them in the thickest Mist of Fight.  
Yet did from Haly this short comfort get  
That they to Rhodes have made a brave Retreat.  
As Love's great Champions we must them adore.   jant. 
Be well, Alphonso, I will chide no more.  Enter Solyman, Roxolana, Mustapha, Pyrrhus, Haly, Rustan. Soly. 

Haly, I did declare that I would see  
The jealous Prisoner ere he Died.   Roxol. 

Look there! you are obeyed. Yet pardon me  
Who, ere you pardoned him, did make him free.   Soly. 

In this I have your virtue tried.  
If Roxolana thus revengeless proves  
To him whom such a beauteous Rival loves,  
It does denote she Rivals can endure,  
Yet think she still is of my heart secure.  
Duke, this Example of her trust may be  
A cure for your distrustful thoughts of me,  
You may embark for the Sicilian Coast;  
And there possess your Wife when Rhodes is lost.   Alph. 

Since freedom, which is more than Life, you give  
To him, who durst not ask you leave to Live;  
I cannot doubt your bounty when I crave  
That, granting freedom, you will Honour save.  
My honour I shall lose, unless I share  
In Rhodes, the Rhodians worst effects of Warr.  
To Sicily let chaste janthe steer;  
And sing long Stories of your virtue there:  
Whilst, by your mercy sent, to Rhodes I go,  
To be in Rhodes your Suppliant, not your Foe.   jant. 

Alphonso, I have honour too;  
Which calls me back to Rhodes with you.  
Were this, through tenderness, by you denied  
For soft concerns of Life,  
Yet gracious Solyman will ne'er divide  
The Husband from the Wife.   Soly. 

Both may to Rhodes return: But it is just  
That you, who nobly did my honour trust,  
(Without my Pass, or plighted Word)  
Should more by your adventurous visit get  
Than Empire's interest would afford,  
Or you expected when you came to Treat.  
Go back janthe; make your own  
Conditions boldly for the Town.  
I am content it should recorded be,  
That, when I vanquished Rhodes, you Conquered me.   jant. 

Not Fame's free Voice, nor lasting Numbers can  
Disperse, or keep, enough of Solyman.   Soly. 

From Lover's Beds, and Thrones of Monarchs, fly  
Thou ever waking Madness, Jealousy.  
And still, to Nature's Darling, Love  
(That all the World may happy prove)  
Let Giant-Virtue be the watchful Guard,  
Honour, the cautious Guide, and sure reward:  
Honour, adorned in such a Poet's Song  
As may prescribe to Fame  
What loyal Lovers name  
Shall far be spread, and shall continue long.   Exeunt omnes.   

EPILOGUE.  

THough, bashfully, we fear to give offence;  
Yet, pray allow our Poet confidence.  
He has the priv'lege of old Servants got;  
Who are connived at, and have leave to Dote;  
To boast past service, and be chol'rique too,  
Till they believe at last that all they do  
Does far above their Master's Judgements grow:  
Much like to theirs, is his presumption now.  
For free, assured, and bold his Brow appears,  
Because, he served your Fathers many years.  
He says he pleased them too, but he may find,  
You Wits; not of your Duller-fathers' mind.  
Which, well considered Mistress Muse will then  
Wish for her old Gallants at Fri'rs again;  
Rather than be by those neglected here,  
Whose Fathers civilly did Court her there.  
But as old Mistresses, who meet disdain,  
Forbear through Pride, or Prudence, to complain;  
And satisfy their hearts, when they are sad,  
With thoughts of former Lovers they have had:  
Even so poor Madam-Muse this night must bear,  
With equal pulse, the fits of hope and fear;  
And never will against your Passion strive:  
But, being old, and therefore Narrative,  
Comfort herself with telling Tales, too long,  
Of many Plaudits had when she was young.   
FINIS.