THE Island Princess, OR THE Generous Portuguese. Made into an OPERA. As it is performed at the THEATRE ROYAL.  
All the Musical Entertainments and the greatest Part of the Play new, and written by Mr. Motteux.  
LONDON, Printed for Richard Wellington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Churchyard; and Sold by Bernard Lintott, at the Cross-Keys in St. Martins-Lane, next Long Acre. 1699.  
A Treatise of Education, especially of Young Gentlemen, by Obodiah Walker, D. D.  
Where Gentlemen may pick Novels at 6 s. the Dozen.   

To the Honourable POPHAM CONWAY, Esq  
SIR,  
A Poetical Dedication is one of those Accidents, I had almost said Diseases, which few persons of extraordinary Merit and Fortune can escape, especially in this Town: soon or late it fixes on the most Conspicuous, and too often defaces the Beauties which it touches. The Apologies that usher in most addresses of this nature, sufficiently show, that they are thought a trouble even by those who presume to make them. It may well then seem strange, that I should own this, and at the same time dare to approach in that very manner a Person for whom I would express the greatest Respect. Yet, Sir, these Considerations, instead of deterring me from the attempt, are perhaps the chief Inducements that embolden me to make it: For You are of too generous and obliging a Temper, and too great a Favourer of the Muses in general, and more particularly of Dramatic Performances, not to be exposed to the danger of having some of them forced upon You, by way of Dedication, beyond a possibility of escaping such a Compliment. Therefore, Sir, I flatter myself with the thoughts of having a better Pretence to do You that civil Violence, than many others, who perhaps would not use You so gently, but would rudely invade Your Character, and put You to more pain than my tender Respect will suffer me to do. For 'tis but too common with some Authors in a manner to dissect their Patrons, and read tedious Lectures over every individual Qualification. Now, Sir, I am not inclined to run into such a Fault: My Zeal may indeed make me afraid of saying too little, but my concern for the satisfaction of the Person to whom I write, makes me still more fearful of being thought guilty of saying too much; if yet too much can ever be said of such merit as seems above the reach of Flattery; Praise is a Tribute due to Virtue and acceptable even to the highest Powers: We offer up our Incense, and they shower down their Blessings. But a vulgar and unskilful hand sometimes profanes the Rites it would perform, and no common Expressions can illustrate uncommon Desert. Should I say, that wherever You appear, You captivate the hearts of one Sex, and raise the Envy and Admiration of the other, 'twould be but what is universally owned, tho' no more than what has been said to many: And should I wave Your outward Graces to speak of those Nobler Accomplishments of Your mind that only wait Occasions to signalise Your Life by a Genius peculiar to Your illustrious Family, I could do little more than enumerate the Endowments of the living Ornaments and springing hopes of their Country. For, tho' most men have discernment enough to admire, very few have Capacity to commend. In an extraordinary Subject, I would say something new and worthy of it; but, in so beaten a path as Panegyric, 'tis next to impossible to make Discoveries; and little more than to give a new turn to old Thoughts is what can be done, even by Masters of Wit and Oratory. Thus, Sir, I please myself with the hopes of being the more excusable in not aiming at that Theme; since, after all, the greatest Artists might be reduced to speak like the rest of the World that would do Justice to Your Character. Besides, some shining Truths, as well as Merit set off to advantage, are like those sparkling Diamonds which so much exceed the common magnitude, that they are sometimes suspected of not being what really they are. So blind some People are, not to consider, that a noble Soul looks most like herself in a graceful habitation. Certainly, Sir, had Yours been to have chosen her Dwelling, she could not have pitched on one more worthy such a Guest. A transient sight of such Perfections may create Envy, but even that Envy must Convert itself to Esteem and Love upon a nearer view: For that Discretion, that Prudence which secures You from the dangerous Attacks of insinuating Designers, when joined with Your sweetness of Temper, and other Qualifications, must blunt the Darts of the most repining Malice. The Judgement that attends Your kind disposition to oblige, never hinders it from becoming a diffusive Good, and only heightens the Favours You bestow, by Your Modesty in concealing them. Fortune is more obliged to You, than You to her. She has been thought one of those noble Prodigals who had rather be lavish of their Gifts than just in the payment of their debts; but we must cease to accuse her of Blindness, when we see how deservedly she has heaped her Favours on You. May You live to possess 'em long, and those richer Blessings, those native and acquired Treasures that so singularly set 'em off; and may You ever believe me to be, what I am ambitious of appearing,  
SIR, Your most humble and Most obedient Servant, Peter Motteux.   

To the Reader.  
THO' Mr. Fletcher's Island Princess was frequently Acted of old, and Revived twelve years ago, with some alterations, the Judicious seem satisfied, that it would hardly have been relished now on the Stage. As I found it not unfit to be made what we here call an Opera, I undertook to revise it, but not as I would have done, had I designed a correct Play. Let this at once satisfy the Modern Critics, and the Zealous Admirers of Old Plays; for I neither intended to make it regular, nor to keep in all that I liked in the Original, but only what I thought fit for my Purpose▪ and the success has answered my intent, far beyond Expectation. However, I am not willing to attribute it to myself, but chiefly to the Excellency of the Musical Part. What Mr. Daniel Purcel has set is so fine, that as he seems inspired with his Brother's wonderful Genius, it cannot but be equally admired. The Notes of the Interlude set by Mr. Clarke have air and humour that crown 'em with Applause: And the Dialogue and Enthusiastic Song, which Mr. Leveridge set, are too particularly liked not to engage me to thank him for gracing my words with his Composition, as much as for his celebrated singing; Nor must I omit Mr. Pate's admirable Performance, which, with Mr. Leveridge's, gives life to the whole Entertainment.  
I should now say something in answer to two late Books in which the Discourse about the Lawfulness and unlawfulness of the Stage, printed before Beauty in Distress is examined: but I am too much engaged in other matters to do my Friend and myself that Justice at present. Yet if the doubting Gentleman will be pleased to meet the Booksellers and Me, they and I can convince him or any Friend of his that the Discourse was really Englished and sent me by the person mentioned in the Title.  
The Dialogue in the 4th Act, should have been sung in the first Entertainment, which, as well as the last, is not very proper for that place, nor would I have let 'em appear thus but for Reasons as improper to be mentioned here.   

PROLOGUE  Spoken by Mr. powel. 
PRologues, some say, are useless, grave or gay:  
The first but clog, the last ne'er save a Play.  
Yet, since for humorous Prologues most you long,  
Before this Play we'll have a Ballad sung.  
This is our Play-wright's Thoughts: But we who know  
The just Respect to mighty Names you show,  
Think fit t' acquaint you, that, 'tis humbly owned,  
He raised his Structure on famed Fletcher's Ground.  
This known, we hope we've little now to dread;  
You'll spare the Living, lest you wrong the Dead.  
Perhaps too, when you know we wave our Pay,  
At our own Cost t' adorn these Scenes to day,  
In Pity to the players, you'll kindly use the Play.  
Left by our Rulers for ourselves to strive  
When our faint hopes could scarce be kept alive,  
Tho' by Misfortunes drained, we by your Smiles revive.  
Your generous Pity would not let us fall,  
And, in Return, we freely venture all.  Exit. Enter Mr. Leveridge, who sings the following words. 

1.  
YOu've been with dull Prologues here bantered so long,  
They signify nothing, or less than a Song.  
To Sing you a Ballad this time we thought fit;  
For sound has oft nicked you, when Sense could not hit.  
Then Ladies be kind,  
And Gentlemen mind! 

Wit-Carpers,  
Mobbed Sinners,  
Play-Sharpers,  
In Pinner's,  
Loud Bullies,  
Kept-Toppers,  
Tame Cullies,  
Bench-Hoppers,  
Sour Grumblers,  
High-Fliers,  
Wench-Bumblers,  
Pit-Plyers,  
Give Ear, every Man!  
Be still, if you can!    
You're always in Mischief for leading the Van.   

2.  
Ye Side-box Gallants, whom the Vulgar call Beaux,  
Admirers of— Self, and nice Judges of— clothes,  
Who, now the War's over, across boldly the Main,  
Yet ne'er were at Sieges, unless at Compiegne.  
Spare all, on the Stage,  
Love in every Age. 

Young Tattles,  
Young Graces  
Wild Rattles,  
Black Faces,  
Fan-Tearers,  
Some faded,  
Mask-Fleerers,  
Some jaded,  
Old Coasters,  
Old Mothers,  
Love Boasters,  
And Others,  
Who set up for Truth!  
Who've yet a Colts-Tooth,    
See us act that in Winter, you'd all act in youth,   

3.  
Ye Gallery haunters, who Love to Lie Snug,  
And munch Apples or Cakes while some Neighbour you hug  
Ye loftier Genteels, who above us all sit,  
And look down with contempt on the Mob in the Pit!  
Here's what you like best,  
Jig, Song, and the rest. 

Free Laughers,  
Sly Spouses  
Close Gaffers,  
With Blowzes,  
Dry Joakers,  
Grave Horners,  
Old Soakers,  
In Corners,  
KindCousins  
Kind No-Wits,  
By Dozens,  
Save-Poets,  
Your Custom don't break!  
Clap till your hands ache;    
And though the Wits damn us, we'll say the Whims take.    

Dramatis Personae.  

Armusia, A Noble Portuguese, Mr. powel.  
Ruidias, General of the Portuguese in the Spice Islands. Mr. Mills.  
Piniero, A Portugese Officer, his Friend. Mr. Thomas.  
King Of Tidore. Mr. Evans.  
The Governor, or Tyrant of the Island of Ternate. Mr. Johnson.  
King Of Bakam. Mr. Bullock.  
Prince Of Syana Mr. Kent.  
Quisara, The King of Tidore's Sister. Mrs. Rogers.  
Panura, One of her Women. Mrs. Wilkins.   
Brahmins, Portuguese, Officers, Citizens, Guards and Attendants.  
SCENE the Spice-Islands.   

The Island Princess.  

ACT I.  

SCENE I. The Entrance to the Temple in the Palace.  Enter Armusia, Emanuel, Sosa, and two other Portuguese Gentlemen. Arm. 
WE're now in those delicious Eastern Climes  
Where every Wind diffuses balmy sweets.  
The Treasure of the Sun dwells here; each Tree,  
As if it envied the Old Paradise,  
Strives to bring forth Immortal Fruit. The Spices,  
Renewing Nature, can preserve her Beauties  
Untainted in the Grave. The very Rivers as we float along  
Throw up their Pearls. The Earth, still clothed in Flowers,  
Teems with the Birth of Gems, and dazzling Riches:  
Nothing that bears a Life but brings a Treasure.  Em. 
To wander, with us, Sir, you left betimes  
Your Country, tho' the darling of its Court.  Arm. 
We Portuguese with ease now journey through the Globe.  
New worlds disclose their Beauties and their Prides to our embraces.  
And we the first of Nations find these wonders.  
But of 'em all, this Island boasts the greatest;  
A Princess whom all Nature's Blessings grace.  
The very Sun, I think, respects her Charms;  
Nor dares affect 'em with the common gloom.  Em. 
So lately Landed, and already struck! Beware, Armusia!  Arm. 
Your Council comes too late— Let's find the General,  
Our Countryman, Ruidias—  So. 
'Tis rumoured, Sir, he loves her.  Arm. 
Ha!— Yet I must on, in spite of Reason's Laws,  
He meanly loves, whom fancied distance awes;  
Like a bright Star, she's fixed and shines on high,  
But Love has wings, and to her Orb I'll fly.  Enter Piniero, Christopher. Chri. 
You're early here, Piniero.  Pini. 
Not so early, Sir.  
But I've already seen our Watch relieved.  
And bid our Guards be careful of their Charge.  
The Fort is all our strength in these Spice Islands.  Chri. 
And sure our common safety  
Requires strict watch upon our Treacherous Neighbours.  Pini. 
Their late attempt is yet too fresh among us,  
In which against the Laws of Arms and Nations  
The Governor of Ternate seized by stealth  
This Island's Monarch, our confederate King,  
While for Diversion coasting in his Barge.  Chri. 
His Royal Sister, the admired Quisara,  
Has showed a noble mind, and tenderest Love  
To her unhappy Brother and the nobler  
Because his Fall would raise her to a Throne.  Pini. 
Such Charms and Virtue with just admiration  
Have robbed the Neighbouring Courts, and filled her  
Palace with Royal Suitors—  
Our General is in among 'em too, and has the start, 'tis thought.  Chri. 
But have you seen Armusia,  
The handsome Portuguese arrived here lately?  
I fear he'll spoil his game, Piniero.  Pini. 
A Man of noble Promise,  
Without Reservedness Grave, and doubtless Valiant,  
For he that dares come hither dares fight any where.  
But hold—  
We're in the Palace of the Island,  
Not our own Fort. D'ye mark these Preparations?  
Those doors lead to the Temple, where the Princess  
Has summoned all her Lovers to assemble;  
But to what Purpose we are yet to learn.  Chri. 
But who are chief?  Pini. 
That swelling vanity, the King of Bakam.  
The next Syana's Prince; but, what's the greatest wonder,  
The haughty Governor, our Enemy,  
He that surprised the King, to gain the Sister,  
Is under formal Hostages arrived.—  Enter Armusia, and his Companions. Pini. 
You're welcome, to Tidore, Sir!  
Know there is nothing in our power to serve you,  
But you may freely challenge.  Arm. 
Sir, we thank you, and rest your Servants.  Chri. 
Brave Armusia, you never saw this Court before—  
But hark, the Signal's given, and see the Pageants enter.  Enter the King of Bakam, Syana, and Governor with their respective Attendants. Arm. 
These sure are Islanders.  Pini. 
And Princes.  Arm. 
What may he be that bears so proud a Port?  Pini. 
The King of Bakam, Sir, a mere Barbarian—  
This is Syana's Prince— and that the Governor  
Who seized the King, and keeps him Prisoner.—  Ba. 
Away, ye Trifles;  
Am I in Competition with such Toys!  Sy. 
You speak loud, Sir.  Ba. 
Young man, I will speak louder.  
Can any man but I deserve her favour?  
Ye petty Princes!  Sy. 
Thou proud vain Thing, whom Nature—  Ba. 
I contemn Thee, and that Fort-keeping Fellow.  Go. 
Ha!  Ba. 
Keep thy Rank, Thing, with thy own petty Peers—  
Call out the Princess?  Go. 
Dost thou know me, Bladder?  
Art thou acquainted with my Nature?  
What canst thou merit?  Ba. 
Merit! I'm above it.  
Honour's my Servant, Fortune is my Slave.  
I slight ye, Infects: had not the vain People  
Bestowed some Titles on ye, I should forget your Names.  Sy. 
Sir, talk less, that men may think you can do more.  Ba. 
Why, I can talk and do.  
I tell you, only I deserve the Princess,  
And make good, only I, if you dare, you,  
Or you, Syana's Prince.—  Sy. 
Here lies my Proof.  Go. 
I'll be short with you.  The Temple opens, an Altar is discovered, and Priests near it. Enter Ruidias, Quisara in state, with her Attendants. Rui. 
For shame forbear, ye Princes; rule your angers:  
You violate the Freedom of this Place,  
The State and Royalty—  Go. 
He's well content I see, so I have done.  Qui. 
You wrong me, and my Court, contentious Princes.  
Comes your Love dressed in violence to seek us?  
Is't fit our Palace, and this Sacred Place  
Should be polluted with your bloody Rage?  
He that loves me, loves my Commands; be temperate,  
Or be no more what you profess, my Servants.  Omn. 
We are calm as Peace.  Arm. 
What Command she carries,  
And what a sparkling Majesty flies from her!  Qui. 
Since you're for Action, I shall find you danger:  
But not this way: 'Tis not this mean Contention  
Among yourselves, nor Courtship to my Face  
Who best can Love, or who can flatter most  
Shall guide my choice; he that will hope my Favour  
Must win me with his merit.  Omn. 
Propose the way.  Qui. 
First I shall call our Gods to witness what I promise.  
Now give me hearing. 'Tis well known to you,  
The King my Brother is Prisoner to this Man.  
Were I Ambitious there I'd let him die;  
And wear his Crown; but greatness cannot tempt me  
To forget Nature, and a King's Distress.  
Therefore the Man that would be known my Lover  
Must first redeem my Brother, or seek another Mistress.  Arm. 
Divine Creature!  Chri. 
A dangerous task; how they stand gazing all!  Qui. 
I grant ye, this will be no easy work,  
But the Reward is certain— Ruidias cold!  
Perhaps you doubt me, Princes.  
He that shall free the King, shall be my Husband.  
By that most bright and Sacred Shrine, I swear,  
Before these Holy Men I here proclaim it.  
No stirring yet?  Looks on Ruidias. Rui. 
If, Madam, to attempt this Royal Rescue  
Through all forms of Danger  
Might crown your hope, I had not lost this Minute;  
But here, where Conduct must keep Pace with Courage,  
The starting fiery Will is reined with Torment  
To judgement's flower march.  Qui. 
Take your own Method.  Ba. 
Madam, believe him here. I'll raise an Army,  
Shall bring him to you, Island, Fort and all,  
And fix it here.  Sy. 
What may be, Madam,  
And what my Power can promise, I engage.  Go. 
Ha; Ha!  
Madam, their Power and Arts are all too weak,  
'Tis only in my Will to give your Wishes.  
I seized your Brother to secure you mine.  
Then thus the Treaty's finished! Take your Prisoner,  
And make me yours, close Prisoner to these Arms:  
Say but the word, your Brother shall be rendered quick as your wishes.  Qui. 
Know, base Ravisher,  
I hate both you, your Country, and your Love.  
Heaven knows how dear I prize his Liberty;  
But e'er I would so basely buy his Freedom,  
I'd study to forget he was my Brother.  
By Force you took him; he that would possess me,  
Must fetch him back by Force, or ne'er succeed.  Arm. 
Noble Spirit!  Gou. 
Be Wise, and use me better.  Qui. 
I say by Force, and suddenly— so return, Sir;  
And glad we have kept Faith for your safe Passage.  Gou. 
How's this?  Pini. 
Your hopes are great, good Governor.  Gou. 
Am I then made a Property?  
I'll check this Pride. This neglect of me  
Shall cost your Brother dear.  
For, as till now I've used him like a King,  
He now shall in a Dungeon fettered lie,  
Darkness and lingering Death for his Companions.  
And let me see who dares attempt his Rescue.  
Farewell: And when you find him thus, lament your scorn.  
Nay, I shall make you kneel to take my Offer.  Exit Governor▪ Qui. 
Provoking Insolence! he dares you, Princes.  
Your Honour now's concerned. Haste, join your Powers;  
When Majesty's thus wronged all Princes should revenge.  
Oh that I were a Man to lead you on,  
To free a King, and punish that Barbarian,  
That Tyrant, who by treacherous Force would gain  
What even submissive Truth can scarce obtain.  Exit Quisara with her Train, Bak. and Sya. Rui. 
We must resolve and speedily. Walk with me Gentlemen.  Eexit Rui. Christ. and Pin. Manent Armusia, Emanuel, and Sosa. Em. 
Now, Sir, you stand as you were charmed.  Arm. 
O Sosa, O Emanuel!  So. 
What now?  Arm. 
This Captive King! What an Action  
Would this be to put forwards, Friends! What glory  Em. 
And what an everlasting Wealth to crown it!  Arm. 
To step into't while they are thinking.  So. 
Sir, 'tis impossible; The Fort's impregnable.  Arm. 
No more, dissuade me not, for I will rule in this.  So. 
If it must be—  Arm. 
Stay not for second Thoughts— Oh! She's an Angel!  
At least we can attempt; our very Fate  
Will sometimes be the Theme of her Discourse,  
And I would die ten thousand thousand Deaths  
To have her talk of me—  
Love, Love with all his Fires has shot himself  
Into my Soul, and urges on to dare.  
Should we succeed, how vast is the Reward!  
Come on, my Friends!— For such a Prize 'tis wise to hazard all;  
Blessed if we Live, and Glorious tho' we Fall.  Exeunt. The End of the First Act.   

ACT II.  

SCENE I. A Vault under the Castle.  Armusia, Sosa, Emanuel, and two more in Disguise, some of 'em with lighted Matches. Arm. 
OUR prosperous Passage was a lucky Omen,  
The Sea and Wind strove which should most befriend us.  
Where lies our Boat?  So. 
Safe lodged within the Reeds behind the Enemy's Castle.  Arm. 
These Merchant's Habits too have done us service:  
Unquestioned thus I've travelled thro' the Town,  
Viewed all the Tyrant's Magazines; got knowledge  
Even of the Prison,  
Where the King's dungeoned, and the Power that guards it.  So. 
You attempt strong Work.  Arm. 
Courage is strong; besides a Monarch's Fate's in't;  
Yet lose or win, there's no retiring now.  
Thus far our Game holds fair, as Merchants we  
Have hired this Vault, and stowed those Mattled Wares,  
That soon will blow it up.  Em. 
The Trains are laid, Sir.  Arm. 
Come nearer then,  
That no false Ear may reach us; o'er this Vault  
The Castle stands, where the proud Governor  
Has stored his Arms and Treasure, next to that  
The Prison where the injured King is kept.  
The Fire I've brought shall break out into Flames  
That all the Island shall stand wondering at.  
When the Town's full of Fright, and all employed  
To quench the Flames, then fly we to the Prison,  
And push for the King's Rescue.  So. 
Fortune speed us!  Arm. 
Let us be worthy of it by our Courage,  
And so take leave, but keep still within sight,  
Till the Flames rise, then meet to do or die.  
Fail not, dear Fire, and Powder, hold your Nature;  
By useful Mischiefs nobly triumph here!  
Redeem a King, and serve a matchless Fair,  
Assist my Love, and make one happy Pair.  Exeunt severally.  

Scene the Town of Ternate.  Enter Governor and one of his Captains. Gou. 
No, Captain, for those Troops, we need 'em not,  
The Town is strong enough to stand their Furies.  
D'you think they dare attempt to free the King?  Cap. 
Perhaps by Treaty,  
But sure by Force they will not prove so forward.  Gou. 
Well, would I had the Princess, I must have her,  
In spite of all her scorn.— Hark! what's that?  A noise is heard like the springing of a Mine. 
That Noise there, it went with a violence.  Cap. 
Some Wall, belike, Sir, is fallen suddenly.  Within. 
Fire, Fire!  Gou. 
I hear another Tune, 'tis loud and dreadful.  
Look up into the Town, how bright the Air shows!  Exit Cap. 
Upon my Life some sudden Fire— The Bell too.  The Bell rings. Enter 1. Citizen. 1 Cit 
Fire, Fire!  Gou. 
Where? Where?  1 Cit 
Suddenly taken in a Merchant's Vault, Sir,  
It blazes fearfully! help! help, good People.  Re-enter Captain. Cap. 
Your Magazine's a fire, Sir, help, help, suddenly,  
All will be lost.  Gou. 
Raise all the Garrison.  Enter other Citizens. Gou. 
The Flames increase! help, help dear Citizens.  
Freedom and Wealth to him that helps!  
Fling Wine, fling any Thing, I'll see it recompensed.  Exeunt omnes. Enter 2 d Citizen. 2. 
Fire, Fire! What, my Brats hanging still about me! get you gone, you young Bastards, go, go and plunder!  Enter 3 d Citizen drunk. 3. 
I heard 'em cry Fire, I wish I knew where 'tis, I'm deadly cold.  2. 
Oh Neighbour, run, save your Goods, your House is a Fire.  3. 
I don't care, I've got the Key in my Pocket.   

SCENE changes to a Prison, and a prospect of Fire.  Enter Armusia and his Company breaking open a Door. Arm. 
So, thou art open, keep the Way clear behind still,  
Now for the place where the King lies.  Em. 
'Tis here, Sir.  Arm. 
Force open the Door; quick, while the Guards are scattered.  
All's in disorder— The Fire rages on—  
Oh 'tis a glorious blaze— Ha! a miserable object!  The King is discovered. 
Yet by his manly Face he shows a King.  King. 
Why stare ye on me?  
You cannot put on Faces to fright me:  
In death, I'm still a King.  Arm. 
Quick, break the Chain!  They take off his Chains and put a Sword into his hand. 
Oh Barbarous Wretches thus to use a Prince.  King. 
What does this mean?  Arm. 
Sir, we are Friends, and come to set you free!  King. 
Heaven! thou art gracious.  Enter Guard. Arm. 
Ha! the Guard! Charge 'em!  They fight two Parties of Guards who at last fly. 
They fly! the day is ours! the King is free.  King. 
Thou generous stranger, what art thou! Some Angel sure.  
Oh! if thou art a man, let me embrace thee?  
Command my Power, my Life.  Arm. 
Your Love, no more, Sir.  
But now let's hence! haste to the Boat,  They go with the King. 
Then to Tidore, there, there is my Reward.  
Such a Reward! Oh the thoughts on't transport me.  
Possessed of that, I shall think India poor.  
There is no Wealth but she: She's Crowns, and Sceptres,  
Health, Freedom, Life, the Empire of the Globe;  
Nay, more, she's— she's the Woman I adore,  
And with Armusia that outweighs the World.  Exeunt. Enter several Townsmen. 1. 
What, is the Fire out, or past the worst yet?  2. 
'Tis out, Neighbour, but whether past the worst or no, I know not. I never so bestirred myself since I was a Man. I have been burnt at both ends like a Squib. I lived two long hours in the Fire. The Flame at last got down into my Throat, and broke out again I don't know where. I fried like a burnt Marrowbone.▪— If they had not clapped in a dozen Buckets on this goodly Tenement of mine, I had flamed up like any Tavern Brush, and been one of the seven Stars by this Time.  3. 
Well, of all the seven Elements, aware fire, say I.  2. 
Seven Elements, quoke he! why, you talk as if the Fire had scared you out of your seven Senses! I tell ye there are but four Elements: Water and Malt are two of 'em; and Fire and Brimstone, the other. They've passed through me a little too lately, I thank 'em.  3. 
Hold, I say, there's a fifth Element, right Brandy.  2. 
Thou art drunk?  3. 
Right then, now I'm in my Element.  1. 
Ay, Neighbour, if every Man had wrought as you did.  2. 
Why, I stole nothing, you slandering Cuckold you. That Son of a Bachelor is always backbiting a man to his face. I'd have you to know, I scorn your words. 'Tis well known I get my living at my Finger's ends, and that too I get out of the Fire, as a man may say.  3. 
How many Rogues were there pretending to help remove Goods, and ran away with 'em.  2. 
Ay, those unconscionable Rogues! I hate 'em. I hate a Thief.  1. 
But is there not a deal of damage done?  2. 
Only some six score houses burnt, that's all, Neighbour— Come let's go home, and fright our Wives, for we look like Devils! away! yonder comes our Governor, a worse Plague than the Fire, he has beams enough yet standing to hang us all.  Exeunt. Re-enter Governor. Go. 
Fooled with a Fire! Oh I could tear my Limbs.  
The King is scaped, fled, past Recovery,  
All, all my hopes of Love and Greatness lost.  
Shall I give over then? No, Spite, Ambition,  
Revenge, and fiercer Love forbid it. Rather,  
I'll venture all, and, in disguise, unknown,  
Crown my Foe's Fortune, or retrieve my own.  Exit. The Scene changes to the King's Palace in Tidore, through which is discovered a Fleet of Ships of War. Enter Ruidias. Rui. 
Love bids me dare, but reason bids delay.  
Our strength is now too small for such a Siege.  
Yet I must on, the Princess Fires my Soul,  
And though she seems to favour my addresses  
Unless I free the King I must despair.  
Well then, I'll die, or do't— We'll now embark—  Shouts at a distance. 
What means that Shout?  Enter Piniero. Pini. 
Where are you, Sir? Oh you're undone, prevented.  
The King's released, he's coming in his Barge,  
That met him nigh the Port.  Rui. 
Impossible! who should redeem him?  
The Princes are all here.  Pini. 
'Tis done, Sir.  Rui. 
It cannot be! Done! who dares do it?  Shout again. Enter Quisara, Panura, and other Attendants. Qui. 
Can it be possible! The King returning!  
Freed by a Stranger! Oh my Fatal Vow!  Rui. 
Grief strikes me dumb!  Qui. 
I thought none but Ruidias could have freed him.  
Is there another like him in the World?  
But Oh! Surprise and Grief betray me, and I lose  
The Sister's gladness in the Lover's sorrow.  
Oh Brother! could I have thought I should have shed a Tear  
For your Return, unless it were for Joy!  Rui. 
Oh Princess!  Qui. 
The general Joy comes on,  Shout again. 
And I must meet it, but oh with what comfort?  Enter King attended with a numerous Train, Trumpets, Kettledrums and Music. Armusia, Sofa, Emanuel with him, Bakam, and Syana on each side with their Attendants and Guards. King. 
Rise my Sister!  
I am not welcome yet, till you embrace me.  Qui. 
My Royal Brother! Oh I'm lost in Pleasure,  
To see you safe again.  Rui. 
Sir, I rejoice to see you here restored,  
But must repine, that 'twas not by my means:  
'Twas a brave Deed, I envy him that did it:  
Yet had it mist, my project had not failed.  King. 
I thank you, noble Sir, I know you love me.  Ba. 
I have an Army, Sir,  
That would have scoured your Tyrant and his Country.  
I'm sorry you're released, and wish you in your Dungeon again,  
That I might bring you hither at my Armies Head.  Sya. 
I have done nothing, Sir, and therefore think it  
Convenient to say little of what my Love designed.  King. 
I like your Modesty— My generous Friends,  
I thank you all; I know it grieved ye  
To hear my Misery: But this Man, Princes,  
I must thank heartily indeed.  
This wondrous Man, even from the Grave of Sorrow,  
Has raised me up to Freedom, Life, and Empire.  
Oh Sister, if there may be thanks for this,  
Or any thing near Recompense, invent it.  Arm. 
You are too Noble Sir, there is Reward,  
Reward above my Action too, by Millions;  
A Recompense, so Rich, so Great, so Glorious  
I durst not dream it mine, but that 'twas promised  
Before the Face of Heaven.  King. 
O speak it, speak it, bless me with the Knowledge.  
Make me a happy man,  
For still methinks I am a Prisoner,  
And feel no Liberty, till that is found.  Arm. 
It is— (But first to Heaven and you I bend;  
If either can forgive the high Demand)  
It is your Sister, Royal Sir, She's mine.  
I claim her, by her own Word, and her Honour:  
It was her open Promise to the Man  
That durst redeem you— Beauty set me on,  
And Fortune crowns my hopes, if She receive me.  King. 
Receive you, Sir— Why, Sister! ha! turn from him?  
Stand as you knew not me, nor what he has ventured?  
My dearest Sister!  Arm. 
O Sir, your Pardon,  
There is a blushing Modesty  
That holds her back; Virgins are nice to Love;  
I would not have her forced; give her fair liberty:  
Ladies of her soft Nature, if compelled,  
Turn into Fears, and fly even their own Wishes.  King 
Look on him, Princess, is there such another?  Qui. 
Sir, I confess,  
My Word is passed, and he by that has purchased;  
But yet be pleased to give me Time to be  
Acquainted with his Merit: we are Strangers,  
And Love, like Power, must pass thro' Ceremonies,  
ere it can fix in Virgin's hearts.  King 
Be speedy.  
You will respect your Word: I know you will:  
I'll be your Pledge, my Hero: Come, my Sister,  
Let's see what Welcome you can give a Prisoner,  
And what kind Looks a Friend—  
Thus in my Arms once more.  Arm. 
You make me blush, Sir.  King 
Let this Day see our whole Court crowned with Pleasure.  An Entertainment of Music and Dancing. Several Shepherds advance and express their Joy. The Words were fitted to the Music, which is charmingly composed by Mr. Daniel Purcel▪ Whatever is marked thus (") is left out in the singing. Mr. Leveridge. Shepherd. 
This glorious Day, let Pleasures flow;  
Now Love and Hymen jar no more:  
Ye Sports, appear, let Sorrow cease below;  
Hither repair, the Golden Age restore:  
Let Mortals share the Blessings of the Skies.  
See Jove for ever cease to rove,  
And own, tho' Nuptial Feuds arise,  
No Joys can Vye with Lawful Love.  Mr. Freeman. A Shepherd. 
Happy he who wisely chose  
To taste of Love without his Woes.  
" Happy She whose Charms improve  
" The soft Delights of Harmless Love.  CHORUS. 
Change may raise a wanton Fire,  
But Truth can best improve Desire,  
And Kindles, never to expire.  M. Pate and Mr. Leveridge. Two Shepherds. 
Cease, ye Rovers, cease to Range  
Pleasure revels least in Change.  
wandering still, and still uneasy,  
Nought can fix ye, nought can please ye;  
While True Love, like Heavenly Joys,  
Never dies, and never cloys.  A Shepherdess. 
" From drooping Minds let Sorrow fly,  
" Joy must reign, and Anguish die.  
" Souls who grieve for Coy Denying,  
" Hearts now raging, Wretches dying,  
" Know, that Lovers who pursue,  
" Soon or late the Fair subdue.  
" Blame your Fear when you despair,  
" Not the wishing dying Fair.  Mr. Magnus' Boy. A Shepherd. 
All the Pleasures, Hymen brings  
Lawful Sweets, and chaste Desires,  
All the Pleasures Hymen brings,  
Flow from everliving Springs,  
And neverdying Fires.  Mistress Lindsey. A Shepherdess. 
The Jolly Swains  
That were roving o'er the Plains  
From all Regions hither fly,  
To claim kind Hymen's gentle Tye.  
With their wanton Motions courting  
Some lovely Maid  
Whose Eyes persuade  
To soft Delights, and amorous Sporting.  Enter Swains and Shepherdesses, who dance, Grand CHORUS. 
Love's Flame divinely burns:  
The Golden Age returns.  
Jove, Juno, and Cupid, and Hymen agree,  
All Hearts thus are blessed, and less happy when free.  King. 
Lead on! Sister, your hand to my Deliverer.  Arm. 
Oh let me first approach it with a Kiss,  
Thus trembling with Extremity of Bliss.  
Wisely, bright Princess, you alloy the Joy,  
Still slowly Bless, and leisurely Destroy.  Exeunt omnes.   

ACT. III. The Palace.  Armusa, Sosa, Emanuel. Em. 
SIR, why so sad amidst so much good Fortune?  Arm. 
I want what Beggars are allowed, Content.  So. 
Does then the King neglect you?  Arm. 
No, he is grateful even to mere profuseness,  
But Oh his Sister, that disdainful Fair,  
That should a little smile upon my service,  
And foster my Deserts, with care avoids me,  
Spite of her solemn Promise.  Em. 
And you go sighing up and down for this?  Arm. 
What would you have me do?  Em. 
Do what a Man that knows the Sex would do  
In such a Case, go to her.  So. 
That's the way.  Em. 
And talk as if you fought for her, boldly.  Arm. 
I shall do something; but with more Respect.  
Pray leave me to my Thoughts, and in an hour command me.  Ex. Sosa, Emanuel. 
What shall I do to move her Soul to Pity!  Enter Panura. 
Ha! This Woman waits on her— Lower I cannot fall,  
I'll try my Fate— Madam, May I presume—  Pan. 
'Tis the brave stranger! a handsome Gentleman!  
How happy will she be in such a Husband!  Arm. 
You wait on the Princess;  
With one kind Office you may bind a Gentleman  
Hereafter to be yours. Such beauteous Faces  
Should have courteous minds.  Pan. 
Tell me your Business, Sir.  
Yet if it be to her, I think yourself  
Would do much better, I know your Interest.  Arm. 
I want assurance,  
And am yet but a Stranger— I would speak with her●punc.  Pan. 
She's now alone.  Arm. 
Pray wear this, and believe my meaning civil—  Gives her a Jewel. 
I would speak to her in private.  Pan. 
You shall, Sir.  
Be pleased to go with me;  
My Chamber's next to hers. But pray be secret.  Arm. 
As Death.  Exeunt. 

SCENE II.  Enter King, Governor like an old Bramin, or Indian Monk. King. 
So far and truly you've discovered to me  
The former Currents of my Life and Fortunes  
That I acknowledge you most Wise and Holy,  
And credit your Predictions.  Go. 
I have lived long sequestered from the World  
To find out Knowledge, which I've now attained to.  
Many a Mystic Vision have I seen  
Wherein the good and evils of these Islands  
Were lively shadowed. Many a Charge I've had too,  
Still as the Time grew ripe, to reveal these,  
And now I speak.  
Beware these Portugese!  
The Cause is now the Gods: hear and believe▪ King!  King. 
I do, but know I've found 'em gentle, faithful,  
And am obliged to 'em for my Deliverance.  Go. 
O Son, the Aims of Men are to be looked at  
Above their present actions:  
These Men came hither, as my vision tells me,  
Almost starved, and Shipwrecked, begged leave to Trade,  
Grew rich, than sucked the Fat,  
And Freedom of this Isle, taught her to tremble,  
Witness the Fort they've clapped here on the Neck  
Of your Tidore.  King. 
They have so, indeed, Father.  Go. 
Take heed! your late delivery is only  
A fair faced Prologue to future mischief.  
Mark but the end of your Restorer!  
Your Sister is his due. What's she? your Heir, Sir.  
And what's he akin then to the Kingdom?  
But Heirs are not ambitious— who thou suffers?  
What reverence shall our Gods have? And what Justice  
The miserable People?  King. 
You've well advised me.  
And I will seriously consider, Father.  
In the mean time you shall have fair access  
To my Sister, dispose her to your Purpose,  
And let me still know how the Gods determine.  Exit King. Go. 
So, thanks to this false Beard, and falser Cant,  
I've hopes to ruin thee, and my bold Rival.  
The Brahmins shall foment the Pious mischief;  
And when each Party's weakened, I'll unmask,  
Strike in between, and get the Princess and the Crown.  
Revive my hopes! Revive!— Mankind to fool,  
Still the great Maxim is; divide and rule.  Exit.  

SCENE III, The princess's Apartment.  Enter Quisara, Panura, and Page. Qui. 
Sing me a Song, then leave me— and if Ruidias  
Sold come and beg admittance, introduce him.  
But stay— Will Virtue warrant this admission?  
Surely, for once it may, in such an Exigence—  
We must consult about this Turn of Fortune.  Qui. seats herself on a Couch. A SONG; by the Page. Set by Mr. Purcel. 
Lovely Charmer, dearest Creature,  
Kind Invader of my heart,  
Graced with every gift of Nature,  
Raised with every grace of Art!  
Oh! could I but make thee love me,  
As thy Charms my heart have moved,  
None could e'er be blessed above me,  
None could e'er be more beloved.  Exit Pan. and Page. Enter Armusia. 
Shield me, ye Powers! What's here!  She sees him. 
Sure 'tis the Phantasm of the Man I dread,  
Formed by my Fears! Who are you?  Arm. 
The fondest and most wretched of your slaves.  Qui. 
Who waits there? Rude Intruder, leave me.  
What means this Treachery? Who let you in?  Arm. 
What could keep out the Love that brought me hither.  Qui. 
This is an Insolence unparalleled,  
Nor shall my Brother's Love protect this boldness.  
I'm mistress of myself, and will not be  
Thus visited, spite of your boasted Service.  Arm. 
Bright Virtue—  Qui. 
Stand off, I read dishonour in your Eyes.  Arm. 
By all that Beauty they are Innocent.  
Pray tremble not, you have no Cause, Fair Princess.  Qui. 
So base a violation of my Privacy!  Arm. 
If virtuous Love may claim a pitying glance,  
Look on me, and believe me! Is this violence?  
Far be it from my heart to fright your quiet,  
And heaviest curse falls on him that intends it;  
If you mistrust me still, take this and sheathe it here.  He offers her his Dagger. 
'Twill give a Wound less cruel than your doubts.  Qui. 
Why this Intrusion then?  Arm. 
With trembling awe to urge my Love and Service.  
But hopes remove, the nearer I approach you,  
And I even dread to claim what you have promised.  
So much more easy was the task proposed  
Than to demand the Recompense. Oh Princess!  
When greatness checked the Fire your Beauty kindled,  
Your promise fanned it to a Flame. I dared,  
But 'twas you quickened hope: Then kill it not;  
My flame is grown too mighty to be quenched;  
Yet Oh, 'tis pure, 'tis free from selfish dross.  Qui. 
May I believe?  Arm. 
Wrong not your Charms that claim no less a duty.  
Believe me all devoted to your Will.  Qui. 
Oh, Love! Why must I be ungrateful to such merit.  aside. 
Shall I exact a Proof of your Obedience?  Arm. 
Command a thousand, till I've tired your doubts  
Set any task, Mortality may dare.  
Point out new dangers, bid me Face Destruction.  
Command me any thing— but not to Love.  Qui. 
Then hear me! Cease for ever to expect  
The Recompense you asked, and leave me now.  Arm. 
What have I promised?  
Is this my doom, and is there no redress?  Qui. 
But one, which you must to my pity owe,  
For I must blush to tell your Cure— I love—  
My heart was all disposed before you claimed it.  
Fancy had got the start of your deserts,  
Which yet I prize so high, that for your Ease  
I force my modesty on this Confession,  
To disengage your hopes, nor let the man  
That has so highly served, depend on fruitless air.  Arm. 
Oh, Madam!—  Qui. 
Replies are vain: Obey!  Arm. 
Wretched Armusia. Doubly wretched now;  
What wilt thou do? Canst thou resign thy Princess?  
Resign her to a Rival? Tamely yield  
Thy beauteous Prize, and starve thyself to let  
Another Riot. Oh this Racks my Soul!  
Grief, Jealous Rage, Despair, and Envy tear it.  
Bid me with naked Breast go storm a Breach,  
When through the dreadful gap a thousand Deaths,  
Rush down in Fires and Rocks and Iron hail.  
But change th' ungrateful task. 'Tis death to hope,  
And hope's the Life of Love; 'tis torment in extreme,  
Wheels, Daggers, dying Pangs, and lingering Fires.  Qui. 
Hard fate! Why must I use him thus? But Oh!  
I must be cruel to myself or him,  Aside. Arm. 
Still dumb, relentless Fair? Well, I'll content you,  
And keep my Promise, tho' I lose my Life.  
Despair will make that easy, Joy attend you,  
While I withdraw to die; It should be at your Feet,  
But I will not Profane this Place, nor cost  
Your heart a sigh, Farewell!  Qui. 
Stay, generous Stranger: your despair alarms me,  
Oh, promise me to live.  
See, see the Pity which I pay your anguish:  
My grateful Soul suffers no less than yours;  
For 'tis a pain to be so much obliged  
And Bankrupt in Returns. It kills my Joy,  
I'm angry with myself, and torn in two.  
I would recall my heart, but Oh! I cannot. Fear, Duty,  
Honour, Shame, Pity, Gratitude and Love distract me,  
War in my Breast, my Head, my Soul, and strain the strings of Life.  
Oh leave, leave me, my Confusion is such,  
I dread to say too little or too much.  going. Arm. 
Oh stay;  Qui. 
I cannot; must not.  Arm. 
Must I then leave you thus? Oh! if I must,  
First see th' affliction of my Soul, see now a separation  
More cruel more a death  
Than that between the Body and the Soul:  
They part to meet again, to be more blessed;  
But I to be divorced from Joy for ever.  
Let me be mad, ye Powers, or let me die!  
Oh Heavens! Oh Princess, Judge what I endure,  
When Death or Madness must bestow the Cure.  going. Enter Ruidias, Armusia, is going off. They justle one another at the Door accicidentally. Rui. 
Ha! who is this?  Arm. 
Who art thou?  Rui. 
My Rival with the Princess! and so private.  Arm. 
Ha! 'Tis Ruidias,  
My happy Rival,  
But hold out, Patience, yet!  Rui. 
Is there not door enough, you take such elbow room.  Arm. 
What I take I'll carry.  Rui. 
Confusion▪ Know proud man, I love the Princess; she harkens to my suit,  
And though in Portugal you claim precedence,  
I'll have it here; here I command the Fort,  
And that commands the Town. Be wise, desist,  
Or with my Sword—  Arm. 
You would not use it here?  Qui. 
Oh hold!— Ruidias, you I may command,  
Forbear, and as you prize my Love, respect him.  Rui. 
Is then his Life so dear to you? I'm lost.  
Had I your leave to wait on you, and for this?  
Oh I've not Patience. Must I be outdone?  
Out braved, outrivaled? Must that Stranger get  
At once the start in Glory and in Love,  
And tread me like a name in sand, to nothing?  
Death, and Hell! shall I bear it? tamely bear it?  
No, ere I do, I'll give or take a Life.  Qui. 
Brave stranger, by your Love I charge you,  
Retire, and entertain no thoughts of Vengeance.  Arm. 
O my Patience!  Qui. 
'Tis with you still: Oh do not chide it from you.  Arm. 
Weak flesh rebels, but you and Virtue Conquer.  
I go, but judge, Oh judge! ye tender hearts,  
What Pangs, what Racks the wretched Lover tear  
Who to his Rival leaves the darling fair.  Exit Armusia. Qui. 
Great soul, I am ashamed I cannot love him yet.  aside. 
Now, you, whose Jealous Rage is so presumptuous,  
Know, I resent it and your disrespect.  
Your Love stands yet upon my Courtesy:  
'Tis true, I've suffered you to tell your Passion,  
But I ne'er promised you a kind return;  
And if you dare abuse your privilege—  Rui. 
Armusia here, and stealing out, when I  
Had hopes to be in private entertained!  
What Lover could have tamely born the sight?  Qui. 
Know what I am? how durst you doubt my honour?  
I never taught you to dispose my Freedom;  
And had I promised you my heart, 'twere a less Crime  
In me to change than in you to suspect me;  
The first's but frailty, but the last ill Nature.  
Is this your Faith? True Love is more respectful.  
Armusia would not pass so rash a Censure;  
And I should punish thee; I'll strive to do't.  
'Tis still the Lot of groundless Jealousy  
To bring on what it fears.  
Vows, Duty, Gratitude concur to exclude thee,  
Yet should I slight thee, should I choose thy Rival  
Blame most thyself, and learn how dangerous 'tis  
To let a Woman, spite of Wisdom's Laws,  
See that you're Jealous, tho' without a Cause.  Exit. Qui. Rui. 
She's gone! what shall I do? Oh that Armusia  
Hangs betwixt hopes and me, and threats my Ruin:  
He has her vows, fresh Services, the King,  
And a vast stock of merit on his side:  
I have but naked Love, and wavering too, I fear.  
The Sword then in my hand, I now must try  
To fix my Fortune, and o'ercome, or die:  
When Conquest can't by formal means be got,  
A brave Despair may cut the Gordian knot.    

ACT IU.  The Scene draws and discovers Armusia lying on a bank in a Grove of Orange-Trees. Emanuel by him. This Dialogue is sung to him by a Clown and his Wife. Set by Mr. Leveridge, and Sung by him and Mr. Pate. Wife. 
HOld, John, ere you leave me, i'troth I will know  
Whither so smugged up thus early you go?  
With clean Hands and Face,  
Your best Band with a Lace,  
Your Sunday Reparel when you should go Plough,  
So trim none would think you a married Man now.  
Hold, John, ere you leave me, itroth I will know  
Whither so smugged up thus early you go?  Man. 
Go, Joan, I won't tell you: To lead a sweet Life  
I've learned of my Betters to steal from my Wife.  
Mayhaps with my Neighbour I'll dust it away,  
Mayhaps play at Put, or some other such Play.  Wife. 
I guess at what game you'd be playing to day.  Man. 
Don't plague me. The Devil's in Women I think.  
Go, Joan, I tell thee I'm going to drink?  
Come, prithee, don't think that I've got no more Grace:  
Nay go, or I'll give thee a Dowse in the Face.  Wife. 
I'll find then some body to strike in your Place.  
Why should you deny me? I never did you.  Weeping. 
Because I an't new, you won't give me my due,  
But Troth if you won't, another shall do.  Man. 
If thus you e'er do,  
Oh! how I'll belabour your Booby and you.  Threatening. Wife. 
If thus you e'er do,  
Oh how I'll belabour your Trollop and You.  Both. 
Oh how I'll belabour 

your Booby and you  
your Trollop and you, and you.    Wife. 
Well, John, do not go,  Wheadling and crying. 
And I won't do so,  
Do not go, my dear Johny,  
My Precious, my honey.  She kisses him. 
Oh pray do not go,  
And I won't do so.  Man. 
Adsooks by that Buss I'm inveigled to stay,  
Come, Joan, come and spoil me from going astray.  CHORUS. Wife. 
Come give your best Band.  Man. 
Here take my best Band.  Both. 
Now, give me thy Hand.  Man. 
Thus 'tis with you Women.  Wife. 
Thus 'tis with you Men.  Both. 
whenever you fall out 'tis to fall in again.  Ex. Clown with his Wife. Arm. 
In vain with Mirth you would beguile my Cares.  
Alas! I'm dead to Joy, and but a walking Trouble,  
Insensible to all but Love and Grief,  
To all but Grief, for Grief and Love are one.  
Why would my Rival kill me? If he hates me  
Sure he should bid me live!— Let's range the Grove  
Perhaps I soon shall meet him, or my Princess.  
Both can deal Death; yet I, like other Wretches,  
Thomas! that's my only Ease, must struggle with my Fate.  Exeunt. Enter Governor and Quisara. Go. 
I would talk further with you from the Gods.  
You are a Princess of that Excellence—  
Nay do not blush, I do not flatter you.  
The Gods bestowed this on you.  Qui. 
I own their Bounty.  Go. 
Apply it then to their Use, to their Honour,  
To ruin or convert those Misbelievers  
Those Portuguese; Invite 'em to our Temples—  Qui. 
Father we may sit yonder, and be still more private.  Exit. Qui. and Go. Enter Ruidias and Piniero. Rui. 
What, did Armusia then return the Challenge  
You carried him? Will he not meet me?  Pin. 
He calmly told me, that he disapproves  
All formal Duels, yet that with a Sword  
He every Day is walking in this Grove.  Rui. 
Then let us strive to find him out— But see he comes.  
Now Love, Revenge, and Fortune guide my Arm.  Enter Armusia, with Emanuel. 
Draw, Armusia!  Rui. and Pin. draw. 
die or resign the Princess.  Arm. 
I will do neither.  Armusia, and Emanuel draw. 
But hold, why must our Friends now share our Danger?  Rui. 
Stand still, I charge ye, as you honour me.  Arm. 
And, good Emanuel, hold—  Pin. 
'Tis well you spoke—  Rui. 
Fight home, I will not spare you,  They fight with Sword and Dagger. 
Nor do I look for mercy.  Enter Quisara, and Governor. Qui. 
Ha! fight! hold! Oh hold, rash Men! Oh part 'em!  Go. 
Let 'em alone, let 'em kill one another.  Qui. 
Ruidias, hold.  Rui. 
Unless he dies, I'm hopeless.  Qui. 
If e'er you loved, I charge ye cease! Oh! Father.  Rui. 
My Love were small, should I desist.  Go. 
Oh let both fall, kind Fortune.  Ruidias' falls. Pin. 
Ruidias down!  Em. 
Stand still, or my Sword's in—  Qui. 
Oh hold Armusia.  Rui. 
I can expect no Mercy. Why do you not kill me then?  Arm. 
A Boy might do as much at this Advantage.  
Will you not ask your Life?  Rui. 
'Tis not worth ask.  Arm. 
Nor is it worth my taking in this Posture.  Qui. 
Spare him Armusia, spare him.  Arm. 
My Love is all Obedience. Rise, Sir, and take your Sword again  Rui. 
Not against him that spared me! Oh cursed Fortune.  Go. 
What have you done? 'Twere better they had all perished.  Qui. 
Father, be pacified; I'm working for the best—  
This Jealous Rage and Disobedience cure me—  Aside. 
Armusia, meet me in the Neighbouring Temple.  Arm. 
Madam, I shall—  Exit Quis. Gou. 
Come brave Ruidias, let us now be Friends;  
Believe your Honour safe.  Rui. 
Oh you have beat me both ways, and so nobly  
That I must ever love the hand that did it.  
But Oh the Princess. Both cannot possess her.  Pin. 
You cannot, Sir, unless She break her Vow.  
Come leave these Toys; and wed your Mistress, Fame.  Arm. 
Oh Sir, you ask too too much of a Lover.  
Even I myself had rather leave the world, than quit so fair a Prize.  Rui. 
And you alone deserve her. Yet, Armusia,  
I cannot yet resign her, tho' I must.  
The heat of Love remains, tho' the Soul hope is fled.  Arm. 
Yet let's be Friends. Why should we hate each other  
For Sympathy in Love?  Rui. 
Too generous Man, I cannot call you Rival,  
Let me embrace you; Let all hatred end.  
Oh thus I'm blessed— What e'er the Fates intent,  
I cannot lose, possessed of such a Friend.  Exeunt. 

SCENE the Temple.  Enter Governor still Disguised and Bramin. Go. 
I need not now repeat what we've too dread  
From these bold misbelieving Portuguese.  
Therefore to ruin them, all means are just.  
Thus I've decoyed to Princess the invite  
Her promised Husband hither, where no doubt  
He will Blaspheme our Gods.  
The King will in Disguise hear their Discourse.  
You know your Time t'appear and back my words.  Bra. 
You need not doubt us in so good a Cause  Exeunt Enter Armusia and Quisara, meeting. Arm. 
See, Madam, at your Feet your faithful Slave  
Who studies new humility to please you,  
And takes a kind of Joy in his afflictions, because they come from you.  Kneels to Quisara. Qui. 
Oh rise, Sir, I did not invite you hither  
Thus to profane our Altars, but to ask  
A better Proof of Love than so misplaced a Worship;  
A Proof which, since I've sworn, since you persist,  
Must make me yours, at least my grateful Duty.  
Few Brides, alas! at first have more to give.  Arm. 
Oh name it, Madam, what would I not do,  
Tho' but to gain you thus: Love, greedy Love,  
That still unsatisfied, still murmuring Passion  
Will pine, but since 'tis often but Esteem  
And gratitude improved, 'twill shoot at last  
Forced by a Zeal like mine. Oh then command me.  Enter King and Governor both disguised. Go. 
Now harken, Sir, and as he treats our Gods  
So use him, or expect severest Judgements.  Qui. 
Change your Religion, and adore our Gods.  Arm. 
Ha!  Qui. 
Renounce-your Faith.  Arm. 
Heaven forbid!  Qui. 
Offer as we do?  Arm. 
To Wood and Stone, vile Beasts, and cursed Devils?  
Is this the Proof you ask?  Go. 
O Blasphemy!  King. 
Peace.  Qui. 
I'll reason with you. Are not our Gods as great as yours?  Arm. 
They are senseless, wretched, and the worst of Creatures,  
Unfit to help themselves, much less mankind.  Qui. 
The Sun and Moon we worship, they are heavenly.  Arm. 
But I the Maker of that Sun and Moon  
Who gave 'em Motion, Influence, and Light.  
Excuse me, Princess, if my Zeal for Truth  
Extort a generous Freedom of my Tongue.  
You should have said, Instruct the King and me.  
In that blessed Doctrine that guides Souls to Heaven.  
Oh may you follow that, destroy your Idols,  
Beat down their Altars, ruin their false Temples—  Go. 
Oh horror! My Prophecy was true.  King. 
I'm sorry I came hither— I've heard too much.  Exit King and Governor. Qui. 
Thus far in Charity I was obliged  
To rectify the Errors of your Thought,  
Nor can the Blame be mine to want success.  
'Twas by these Gods that I was sworn to wed you  
These upon blaspheme: You have renounced their Power  
And thereby free me from all obligation.  Arm. 
You are too just to make this slight Evasion.  Qui. 
You shall both find me just, sincere and plain  
Therefore resolve to quit your Faith or me.  Arm. 
My Life is yours, but my Religion Heavens  
And I no more can change it than my Love.  Qui. 
You hear your Task.  Arm. 
Oh! Princess, cease t'injoyn what heaven forbids.  
Name any Task that Honour may not blush  
To execute, Toils, Dangers, Death itself,  
But do not, do not tempt me to be bad.  Qui. 
Obey, and instantly; or from this hour  
No Recantation shall prevail.  Arm. 
Call you this Charity?  Qui. 
Nay then—  Arm. 
You must not go.  
What have I done, to merit this hard Sentence?  
To have my very Soul racked, forced to quit  
My Heaven above, or Paradise on Earth!  
How well I love, how much I prize your Charms  
My Life must show, but Honour, Conscience, Heaven  
I never must forego. Must I then lose You or myself?  
Can You persist? Must I be torn from you? I must—  
Yet once more let me gaze— O now I cannot go.  
Dreadful Strife! Cruel Struggle.  
I must not look, nor leave her!  Qui. 
Farewell.  Going, he holds her. Arm. 
Stay, stay, dear Mischief!— But what am I doing?  
Ha!— Now I dread my Thoughts— assist, ye Powers!  
Awake my Soul! Oh look no more my Eyes.  
Hush! Treacherous Love!  
Since Heart or Soul must perish on this Sea  
Sink thou, my Heart, to save the immortal Treasure.  
Quit thy rich Claim, tho' while I so resign,  
No Martyrdom sure ever equaled mine.  
Away, away! Oh! If I look I die,  He looks on her, then turns from her suddenly. 
There's no way left, to conquer, but to fly.  Going. Qui. 
Heroic Soul! Stay! This confirms me yours.  
In quitting, you have gained me. I resolved  
To make the utmost Trial of your Faith,  
And in your Faith of you. I've long in private  
Weighed your Belief. I find by you 'tis Heavenly:  
You've proved the practice; and 'twas a blessed Vision  
Bespoke my Change, no fickleness of Mind.  
Whom should I love indeed but him I've sworn to wed,  
Who freed my Brother, and retreives my Soul!  
Heaven, Reason, Duty, Gratitude, and Love decree it,  
Your Faith and you for ever, now are mine.  Arm. 
Amazement! Ravishment! am I awake!  
And are you mine! I will, I must believe it.  
Oh happy Change! O unexpected Bliss.  
Look down, ye Sacred Choirs, and share my Joys,  
While thus I pay my Thanks.  Kneels and kisses her hand. Enter King, Governor and Guards. King. 
Nay, start not, take my Confirmation too.  
I promised you to let Quisara's Hand  
Be joined with yours, and here I ratify it.  The King joins their Hands. Go. 
Ha! Did I plot for this!  Aside. Arm. 
Oh! Thought is drowned in Joy. How shall I speak my Thanks!  King. 
Hold, as the Gods have seen me just to you,  
To their own Altars they must see me just.  
Guards, seize your Prisoner—  Go. 
That's well retrieved! Be sure you bind him fast.  Arm. 
Is this your gratitude?  Qui. 
Bind your Restorer, Sir?  King. 
Oh Sister, with Reluctance I'm severe.  
Had he offended me, I had forgiven,  
But to our Gods the injury is done,  
Blasphemed, Reviled: Yet still he may be yours,  
He must appease our Gods by humble Worship,  
Or fall a Sacrifice where he blasphemed 'em;  
And sure to save his Life, and gain you, he'll submit.  Arm. 
To serve my Princess, to secure my Joys  
I'd rush through Seas, through Fires, I'd smile at danger,  
I would do any thing, but injure Heaven,  
And to serve Idols were the greatest wrong.  King. 
What means my Friend? sure you'll not lose yourself,  
Oh quick, recant, submit, appease our Gods  
And those more angry Men that awe me, and the People.  Go. 
He instantly must own our Gods or die.  Arm. 
What, use my breath t' abjure the Power that gave it,  
Renounce, th' Almighty Being! Worship Hell!  
No more; bring me to Torments, Racks, and Fires;  
I'll offer there myself: But when I quit my Faith,  
And grow unworthy thus of her and mercy,  
Let me dread every Curse that guilt deserves,  
Want, Shame, Diseases, and what's worse, her hate,  
Despair on Earth, and worse Despair below.  Go. 
Mildness but hardens him. Our Brahmins here demand him.  
This Temple has its Prison; there they best  
Will work the wished-for Change.  King. 
You're wise and holy:  
Act for the best, but still respect my Friend.  Go. 
Fear not. Death's no misusage of a Rival.  Aside. Qui. 
Oh, Sir, do not resign him to his Foes.  
Rather exert your Power. O save him, save your Friend.  
I know he'll ne'er abjure his Faith.  Go. 
Then he must die.  Qui. 
He shall not die! Oh! Sir, why turn you from me?  
See, on her knees your Sister begs his Life;  
With tears she begs it, save the Man that freed you,  
Him I must wed, and wed by your command.  
Must I bring on his death? O spare him! Father, holy men,  
Join, join with me: True Piety is mild.  
Oh whither would you lead him! stay! stay! Take me too.  
I'll not out live his Loss. No, I'll now save his Life,  
Or lose my own. Our Love and Faith are one:  
Our Fates must be the same.  King. 
How's this, Quisara!  Bra. 
She raves.  Qui. 
No, thou false Man, like him I serve a Power  
That gives me strength to scorn your cursed Idols.  King. 
Ha! own his Faith.  Qui. 
I do, I do! Oh spare him! spare your Sister!  King. 
O fatal found.  Go. 
Take him away, he hardens her in Error:  Exit Arm. guarded. Arm. 
Oh Princess!  Qui. 
O Sir, will you then let him go? call, call him back!  King. 
O Sister! have a care, lose not yourself; he will recant.  Qui. 
Oh never, Sir; even I would not to save him.  
Then save us both. Nay, do not, do not fly me.  
My hopes are all in you. Oh! hear me, hear me!  
Let not blind Zeal prevail! save your own honour,  
Can you resign us to be Butchered, mangled,  
Our Limbs torn, and abandoned to vile wretches?  
Your dearest Friend, your Sister! sure you cannot!  
Our hearts are near akin, and mine would bleed  
To see you thus distressed. Thus I bore your affliction.  King. 
Oh I shall lose the Monarch in the Friend.  
Rise, rise, Quisara.  Qui. 
Oh Sir!  King. 
Sister!  Qui. 
Brother! Friend!  King. 
Let Crowns be lost, and let me save my Sister and my Friend.  
Thus in my arms, thus let me ever guard 'em.  Go. 
Ha! all goes ill. Run, Call the Brahmins hither.  To the Bramin. 
Hope not to save 'em, tho' you lose your Crown.  Exit Brabant and re-enter presently with the Choir. 
No, King, the Gods can punish them and you.  
Nay, if you pause, I've Judgements to denounce  
From angry Heaven. The Sacred Choir attends;  
Leave her to us, we'll only fright and preach her from her Errors—  
Or put it past your Power to save her or my Rival.  Aside. Qui. 
Oh, King, do you then yield me up! Hold, wretches;  
Touch not my hand. I'll freely go to Dungeons,  
Nay, death itself, for such a Noble Cause:  
Tho' Earth forsakes us, heaven will mend our Fates.  
And pour severest Vengeance on your heads.  
Yes, cruel men, then tremble, fear its anger,  
Dread, dread its fierce Revenge! our blood will claim it.  
But hold! we aught to love our very Foes.  
Then Bless these Men: thou power of mercy, spare 'em.  
May they like me their Idol Gods despise,  
And dare to fall, more gloriously to rise.  Exit Qui. with Guards and Brahmins. King. 
I fear you'll not prevail. Oh urge not then  
The Vengeance of the Gods too far: for if you do—  Bra. 
To clear your doubts we'll move the angry Powers  
By solemn Incantation.  

An Incantation set by Mr. D. and Purcell.  
" HEar thou by whom the rattling Thunder's hurled!  
" Hear, Parent Sun, bright Eye, and Monarch of the World.  Mr. Bowen. A Bramin. 
Hear, gentle Moon, pale Queen of Night,  
And ye refulgent Orbs of Light,  
Great Court of Heaven so ample and so high,  
And all ye swarming Commons of the Sky.  CHORUS. 
O Skies! O Sea! O Earth! on all Your Powers call  
ere the Blasphemers fall,  
Oh hear our solemn call.  Mr. Freeman. Another Bramin. 
Hear, ye friendly earthly Powers,  
Gods of kindly Fruits and Flowers,  
Who, unseen, delight to trip  
Where Birds flutter, hop, and skip,  
Where there warble, chirp and coo,  
Where in Whispers Zephirs woo,  
Where poor Echo sweetly grieves,  
And remurmurs through the Leaves.  Mr. Pate. Another Bramin. 

Rouse, ye Gods of the main!  
Take Vengeance on those who your Altars profane.  
Hush no more the loud Storms! Command them to blow,  
Till foaming with Rage the Waves roar as they flow,  
" While they heave and they swell,  
" Toss the Slaves to the Skies, and then plunge 'em to hell.   

Infernal Powers, grim sullen sprights  
Who fill our Souls with dire affrights!  
By all the dismal yell,  
And horrors of your hell,  
Your dreadful Pleasure tell.  
End with the Verse, Hear ye Gods of the main, etc.   Gou. 
The Gods are Sullen, and displeased. But see  
The Ancient Seer, who oft declares their will.  
Advance, wise Bramin, while by Power of sound,  
We Prompt some God, by Thee to ' inform a Doubting Monrach.   An Old Bramin, comes forwards and Sings, The Enthusiastic SONG. Set, Sung, and Acted, by Mr. Leveridge. 


OH Cease, cease, urge no more the God to swell my Breast!  
The Mansion dreads the greater Guest.  
But lo! he comes! I shake! I feel, I feel his Sway,  
And now he hurries me along.  
Then, Crowds, believe, and, Kings, obey,  
'Tis Heaven inspires the Song.   

Haste! To the Gods due Vengeance give.  
Hark! From their Seats they cry,  
Who lets Blasphemers live,  
Shall by Blasphemers die.  
Haste, haste, due Vengeance give.  
" Let the Sound  
" Echo all around.  
Haste, haste, due Vengeance give.  
Beware! Ten thousand, thousand threatning Ills I see!  
Invasions! Wars! Plagues! Ruin! Endless Woes!  
Ah wretched Isle, I weep for Thee,  
Save, save thyself, Resign the God's Blaspheming Foes.  
Now, now the Thunder roars.  
The Earth now groans and quakes.  
The rising Main a Deluge pours.  
The World's Foundation shakes.  
Hell gapes? The Fiends appear!  
Oh hold, ye angry Powers, relent, or we despair.  
See, we fulfil  
On your Foes your dreadful Will.  
See the Throng  
Hoot 'em, as they're dragged along.  
Now they tear 'em, now they die;  
All applaud, and shout for Joy.  
Peace returns, all Nature smiles,  
Happy Days now bless our Isles,  
Now we laugh with Plenty crowned,  
Merry Sports and Love go round.—    

" The Vision's o'er!— The God deserts my Breast.  
" Hush! gently bear me hence to Rest.   He is led off. Gou. 
Now, Sir, you've heard the Gods confirm their Doom.  King. 
They yet may Change.  Gou. 
It must be quickly then.  King 
I'll try to win 'em.—  Gou. 
Leave us to do that.  
We dare not trust your Nature with the Parley.  King. 
Delay awhile.  Gou. 
Take heed! Dread, dread the Gods; if you defer their Doom.  King 
Am I a King, and must they die! my Sister, my Restorer!  
Oh Death is in the Thought! First let it reach me.  
Let Vengeance rage, and sweep me from the World,—  
But Oh this will not save 'em. I must yield.  
But judge my Grief, all great, all generous Hearts!  
Why do we boast of Power? A Crown's a Pageant;  
Kings are but glorious Slaves, controlled by Odds,  
The Priests, the People, and the greater Gods.  
When These are touched, 'tis They the Sceptre Wield,  
And Kings, those petty Substitutes, must yield.  
Empire's a stinted Grant, a Taste of Power,  
And we but Rule to feel Restraint the more.  
Gods, do us right: 'Tis Just we be withstood  
When doing Ill, but not when doing Good.  Exeunt.  
The End of the Fourth ACT.   

ACT V.  The Curtain slowly rises to mournful Music, and discovers a Prison, Quisara lying on the Floor, all in White, reading by the Light of a Lamp; her Women in Black, some, Standing, others Kneeling by her, and Weeping: The Bell Tolls sometime before she speaks. Quisara. 
HOW blessed is Piety! It cheers my Soul,  
Even here, where I'm preparing for my Fate,  
Of all but you forsaken!— Do not Weep;  
You break my Peace of Mind,— Nay, than I beg,  
I must not now Command, retire a while—  Ex. Women. 
Grief is Infectious,— Now I think on them,  
On my Distress, and poor Armusia, Doomed  
For me to fall, I Weep,—  The Bell tolls again. 
Hark! The Bell tolls again! Our fatal Hour is come.  Enter Armusia in Chains. Arm. 
Oh my racked Soul! How shall I stand this Sight,  
The strongest Trial they could put me to! Oh!  Qui. 
Ha! Whence that Groan?  Arm. 
Oh Princess!  Qui. 
Oh Armusia!  Arm. 
How shall I dare t'approach that Suffering Virtue!  
And yet I must. Thus then, now let me crawl,  
And in this Agony breathe out a Soul  
Racked with unutterable Love and Woe.  Qui 
Oh 'tis too much, thou best, thou only Lover,  
Thou Lover of my Soul. I only grieve for thee.  Arm. 
And shall I not Grieve for you, betrayed for me to Death?  
Not Grieve to see you here! Oh! Hopes of Heaven,  
'Tis only you ●n buoy▪ up sinking Virtue,  
When such a Trial comes. Let Pagan Fiends  
On Racks Distend me, Burn me, Tear my Limbs,  
I'd Smile, so you be safe. They cannot hurt me;  
But when they Pain you, than my Heart they'll Tear.  
Oh! at the Thought I shake, I bleed, I rave, and I despair.  Qui. 
I Glory in my Fate; then calm thy mind,  
Dear Man; I've only Tears to pay thy Worth,  
But we shall meet in Heaven at better Nuptials,  
There no bad Men shall interrupt our Joys.  Arm. 
Oh now you've raised my Soul from one Extreme to t'other.  
I dare Rejoice even here.  Enter Officer. Officer. 
I'm bid to tell you, You must now attend  
T'appease our Gods, or die. 'Tis the last Summons.  Qui. 
We come.  Arm. 
To Die.  Qui. 
To Triumph.  Arm. 
Yes, my Bride.  
But, sure I first may claim a Chaste Endearment  
Due to a Bridegroom, and a Dying Friend.  
Yes, blushing Saint, and thus I seize the Blessing,—  Kisses her. 
My Soul is on the Wing to mix with Thine;  
Another Kiss, and they'd for ever join.  
Oh! since below we taste such Sweets in Love,  
How great, how vast must be our Joys above!  Exeunt. 

SCENE. The Temple.  Enter King, Bramin, and Governor. King 
OH! yet delay your Pious Cruelty.  Gou. 
It makes me Weep to urge their Punishment,  
But even your Crown's at stake, if 'tis deferred.  King. 
They come. I dread the Sight, yet still must try to win 'em.  Solemn Music Enter a Procession of Barwins, as to the Sacrifice. Armusia and Quisara Wreathed and Bound. Guards and Attendants. King. 
I force myself to see you thus, to save you.  
Sister, Armusia, Oh, once more I beg,—  
Save, save your Lives.  Arm. 
Name not these Toys, when heaven's concerned; For that, Sir,  
I could forego even her, and yet what's Life without her?  Qui. 
And I should hate him, could he love me more.  Bra. 
Oh quick worship our Gods.  Gou. 
Oh Princess.—  Arm. 
No more.  Qui. 
Away, deluding Men.  Bra. 
Your Life,—  Arm. 
Take it, Bramin.  
And all the Misery that shall attend it.  Bra. 
Make the Fires ready.  Qui. 
Heaven gives us Strength to dread 'em not.  King 
Yet, Stay.  
What shall I do to save you, Stubborn Pair?  
Look on me, like the Criminal I beg,  
And Majesty is fled from me, to you.  
Why will you Kill me? Or, what's worse than Death,  
Afflict me thus? Oh you've no Pangs to dread  
More painful than I suffer. O submit—  Arm. 
Save your mistaken Pity for yourself, Sir.  Bra. 
They must Die instantly, they'll pervert all else.  
You see all's ready, Sir, then pray retire,  
Or we must Strike before your Eyes.  King. 
'Tis hard, ye injured Powers! Must I permit you Justice?  
Oh Sister—  Qui. 
Come, Grieve not, Sir! you wound my tender Soul.  
Farewell. And may our Deaths instruct you how to Live.  King. 
Amazing Love, and Fortitude, and Zeal!  
And shall I let you die!  
Such Virtue, sure, deserves a better Fate.  Enter Messenger. Guns let off at a distance. Mes. 
Arm, Sir! Seek for Defence. The Portuguese  
Fire from their Fort and Ships upon the Town.  
Gen'ral Ruidias sent t'inform us now  
He'll Beat it down, unless Armusia be set Free.  King. 
Ha! Dares he do't? Must Inmates too Control us?  
Even in this Case I must Resent th'employment;  
And, were I Rash, I would Revenge it here.  
However, bear 'em back to Prison, Guards:  
And you demand a Parley.  Ex. All, except Governor. Gou. 
Cursed Event! Had now my Rival Fallen,  
I'd yet found means to save her.  Exeunt.  

SCENE. The Town.  Enter several Townsmen. 1 
BLess us, what Thundering here, what Fire-spitting.  2 
And how the Guns take the side of a House here, and the side of a House there, and mend them up again with another Ward.  3. 
I had the Roof of my House taken off with a Chain Shot, and in the twinkling of an Eye another clapped in the place on't.  2. 
That's a Gun I'll Swear.  1. 
You think he Lies now, I ha' seen a Steeple taken off with a Chain Shot, and another put in the place on't, with Twenty Men Ringing the Bells.  3. 
Pish, what's that! I saw an Old Man's Head set upon a Young Man's Shoulders.—  
But, Woe be to the Potters, I saw a Hand-Granado in one of their Shops, just now, and the Pots, Pans, Pipkins, and Glasses, at Fisticuffs with it, at such a rate, you'd ha' Sworn, a whole Troop of Devils had been at Football there.  1. 
For my part, I'm afraid we shall all find ourselves Knocked o'th' Head to Morrow Morning, as soon as we are awake.  Omnes. 
Like enough.  1. 
They've rid me of as good a Wife as a Man would desire to part withal. I met a Hand with a Letter in't just now in post haste, and by and by Whiz comes the Leg after it, as if the Hand had forgot half its Errand.  3. 
Ay. I saw the very Man that had lost these Goods, come hoping upon his t'other Leg that was left, to raise a Hue and Cry after the Bullet that had Robbed him of half himself.  2. 
Why, d'ye think there's any Law for these Cannon Bullets then? 1. Law! No. Prithee run to a Granado when it comes Piping Hot out of a Mortar-piece, and tell't you'll take the Law of him.— I do but think what Lane a Chain-shot would make in the Law, and how like an Ass a Judge would sit on the Bench with his Head shot off.  3. 
I must confess, to have one's Head shot off, would put any man out of Countenance.  1. 
A Friend of mine lost his Head just now, a very Honest Fellow, a Tailor, and 'twas no sooner off, but a Lawyer's Head that no body owned, dropped out of the Clouds, and settled upon honest Stiche's Shoulders; the Fellow's Ruined by't— for he never spoke a True Word since.  2. 
What shall we do?  1. 
Let's to the King in a Body, all and one, and desire him to Compound with the Foe for such Lambs as we want most in our Callings.— Let me see, Thou art a Fencer, thou shalt give thy Legs to secure thy Arms. Thou'rt a Dancer, thou shalt give thy Head to secure thy Heels.  3. 
Thou'rt a Cuckold, thou shalt give thy Horns to secure thy Head.  2. 
Let's about it instantly, and go to the King.  1. 
Ay, so he is not where the Bullets fly. If he be, I must desire his Majesty to come to me.  Omn. 
Agreed, agreed.  A Gun is let off the first Townsman drops. 3. 
What's the matter, now.—  1. 
Oh I am Slain, let me be carried off quickly, before I come to myself, for I cannot endure to be Shot to Death, as I am a living Man.  Carried off. Exeunt.  

SCENE. A Field or broad place near the Fort.  Enter on one side King, Gou. Guards, etc. Ruidias and the Portugese. King. 
How dare you offer to prescribe us Laws  
Proud Portuguese, and thus abuse the Liberty  
My Predecessors gave you to fix here?  Rui. 
Thrice in my Prince's Name I sent to claim Armusia,  
And Thrice you by your Priests sent word you scorned the Summons.  Gou. 
That was my work.  Aside. King. 
Ha! Did they dare do this? Abuse my Name?  Gou. 
Nay, than I must be quick. Despair assist me.  Aside Exit Gou. Rui. 
Once more I claim him as my Prince's Subject.  King. 
Our Priests too claim him from our injured Gods,  
He's Doomed by them to Die, nay, even his Bride my Sister.  Rui. 
Cursed are the Mouths that doomed 'em! Quickly save 'em.  
I'll harken to no Terms till they're delivered:  
Even you should pray me to do you that Justice,  
I'll pay the Debt of Honour, which I owe him,  
Do you the like, Sir, nor be still Deluded.  King. 
But, Oh the Priests, the People!  Mes. 
The People, Sir, beg they may both be spared.  Rui. 
Then leave me, Sir, to take 'em from their Foes.  King. 
I can no longer what I wish oppose.  Exeunt The Scene draws and discovers the Prison. The Governor dragging Quisara by the hair with a Dagger at her Breast. Qui. 
Help, help!  Gou. 
Be dumb, or this shall make you so— be kind;  
I'm not the old Drone you think.  Qui. 
O why d'you drag me thus? hold.  Gou. 
I come not here to talk. I even want Time  
To seek out my cursed Rival, and with This—  Enter Armusia in Chains. Arm. 
Ha! Villain!  Gou. 
Art thou here?  Qui. 
Oh save yourself and me, run, call for help.  Gou. 
Hold, if thou stir'st, I strike.  Arm. 
Oh Misery, oh horror!  Gou. 
Stay, I'll ease thee.  Qui. 
Help, Murder, help.  Enter Ruidias and all the Portuguese. The King with Guards. Rui. 
Ha! Monster! Seize him— how! The Treacherous Governor!  Ruidias seizes the Gou. by his false Beard and Hair, which come off, and discover him. King 
What do I see! my cruel Enemy!  Rui. 
Art thou a Prophet?  Gou. 
Cursed Fortune!  Qui. 
Blessed deliverance!  Arm. 
Surprising Change!  They unbind Armusia. King 
How have I been abused! ye generous Souls,  
You've half persuaded me t'embrace your Faith.  
You're free. Be happy now. Haste to the Palace,  
Let Sports and Mirth Revive; Feasts, Revels, Masques.  
Guards take that Fiend, and e'er we punish him,  
Let the Crowd see their Prophet.  Gou. 
Confusion! Thirst of Revenge, and Frantic Love undo me.  Exit King, Gou. Guards and the Portuguese, all but Rui. and Arm. Arm. 
How shall I thank you, Sir?  Rui. 
I've scarce yet paid my debt, Sir.  
Thank your own Virtue and my Death to hopes,  
Dispair has murdered Love. I still withstood your Right,  
While Honour gave me leave. No more; let's to the King.  Exit Ruidias. Arm. 
O Princess still I doubt I dream,  
I dare not yet trust Fortune.  
Still as I reach my hand She draws back hers,  
And snatches from me her deriding Favours.  Qui. 
Oh, trust my heart, brave Man, that tells me now we're blessed.  Arm. 
I must be so, 'twere now a Sin to doubt it.  
Yes, Pleasure comes too strong not to be real.  
I want a Name to call this Blessing by.  
Oh Fortune, like her Sex, is wisely coy,  
And deals us Sorrow but to raise our Joy.  Exeunt.  

The SCENE changes to a Palace.  Enter King. Courtiers, Ruid. Pin. Portuguese, Guards, etc. King. 
Come all, and share my Joys, Peace Reigns, the People pleased,  
I've punished my worst Foe, and saved the best of Friends.  
Let Music now resound. Begin the Sports  
To entertain our Court, while I and They,  
Too full of our new Joys to relish others,  
Look back with pleasing Horror on past dangers.  Enter Armusia and Quisara. Arm. 
Oh! Sir! accept my silent gratitude, words were not made to speak a Joy like mine.  
I cannot speak my Thanks.  King. 
Rise, you're excused from words,  
You must have time to calm the stormy Bliss.  
Then leave awhile this bright Assembly here  
To Mirth and soft delights.  
We'll ease with Talk our Pangs of Joy within.  
Now spite of Subtle Foes all Danger's past,  
And Heaven on Virtue showers Rewards at last.  [Exeunt. The End of the last ACT.   

The Four Seasons or Love in every Age. A Musical Interlude. Set to Music by Mr. Jeremy Clarke.  This Entertainment is performed at the End of the last Act, but was designed for another Season, and another Occasion: And what is marked thus (") is omitted. 
THe Overture is a Symphony, lofty, yet gay: At the latter part, it changes to a flat adagio; to which mournful Movement  Mr. Leveridge. 
The Genius of the Stage appears in a melancholic Posture, with attendants.  Genius. 
" Mourn, drooping Seat of Pleasures, mourn.  
" Mourn what all others bless, the Summer's warm Return.  Chorus. 
" Mourn, drooping Seat of Pleasures, mourn!  
" Thy darling Guests, thy fair, thy best Supports,  
" For rival Fields forsake our lovely Sports:  
" We grieve alone, while Birds and Shepherds Sing.  
" Alas, we bear a Winter in the Spring.  Chorus. 
" Mourn, drooping Seat of Pleasures, Mourn!  Mr. Freeman. 
While a gay March is performed Apollo appears.  Apollo. 

Rouse, rouse, ye tuneful Sons of Art!  
The Soul of Numbers and of Days,  
Infusing Life in every Part,  
Appears, your fainting hopes to raise.  
" Advance in Crowds, soft Pleasures, sprightly Joys,  
" Tune every Lyre, raise every voice.  
" Advance, soft Pleasures, sprightly Joys.  
" While your 
* Mr. Henry Purcel.  Amphion played, and Sung,  
" Your Thebes in decent Order sprung.  
" Let harmony be thus employed,  
" To raise what Discord has destroyed;  
" And Music, that even Trees can move,  
" Shall draw the Fair from every Grove.   

Revive, every Pleasure, and die, every Care!  
Ye Ages of Life, and ye Seasons appear!  
Show now, that, as Love in all Ages can warm,  
So Harmony here in all Seasons can charm.   The Chorus repeat from 
Revive, every Pleasure, and die every Care! etc.  While the Chorus repeat that verse, the Scene changes, and discovers the four Seasons, on four several Stages. The Genius and some of his Attendants withdraw. Miss Campion. Enter a Girl of Thirteen or Fourteen years old. Girl. 
Must I a Girl for ever be!  
Will ne'er my Mother marry me!  
They tell me I'm Pretty,  
They tell me I'm Witty:  
But when I would Marry,  
She cries, I must tarry,  
Must I a Girl for ever be!  
Will ne'er my Mother marry me!  Mr. Magnes' Boy. Enter a Youth. Youth. 
Oh! Miss! The Spring is come again,  
The pretty Birds sing, bill, and cooe:  
All dance in Couples on the Green:  
'Tis time we should be doing too.  
My Dear, let's marry; then will you and I,  
As Man and Wife togetherly.  Girl. 
Peace, naughty Thing! I heard one say  
That Marriage is no Child's Play.  
Think you to have me for a Song?  
Besides, they tell me I'm too young:  Boy 
No, now to wed betimes is common:  
When e'er you marry, you're a Woman.  
Come, I must have you, quickly too,  Girl. 
Fie, why d'you make so much ado?  he kisses her. Boy. 
Fie, I'm ashamed! Fie, what d'you do?  Both repeat their last Line together. Boy. 
Be quiet, or I'll call my Mother.  Girl. 
Nay, prithee, let me take another.  Both repeat their last Line together. Boy. 
Another Kiss, and then—  Girl. 
What then?  Boy. 
Another, and another.  
Come, never fear, you'll quickly know,  
Tho I am little, soon I'll grow.  Girl. 
Oh, no, no, no. Oh, no, no, no.  Boy. 
Oh let us go. You'll find it so.  They repeat their last Line together for a Chorus. 

The Dance of Spring here.  Enter two young Lasses with Baskets of Flowers, and Nosegays in their hands. They Dance. Enter to them two young Sparks, the Lasses, dancing, offer 'em Nosegays, curtisying, and smiling. The Sparks make love to 'em. Mrs. Lindsey. Enter a Country Lass with a Rake, as at Hay-making. 

1.  
" Oh Why thus alone must I pass the long day!  
" Were a Gentleman by, 'twere sweet to make hay,  
" And on the Grass coupled to jig it away.  
" I'll then go sell all, even my Rake and my Pail,  
" To buy a high Topping, and hugeous long Tail.  
" Your Powdered wild Boars will then all come to woo,  
" i'll learn how to flaunt it, and quickly come to,  
" And serve a Town Husband, as other Wives do.   

2.  
" I hate a dull Clown who knows hardly what's what,  
" Who shrugging and grinning stands twirling his Hat,  
" Nor dares tell a Body what he would be at.  
" With smoke and worse-Liquor he sots and he Feasts,  
" And instead of his Mistress he fondles his Beasts.  
" With his hands in his Pockets he whistling goes by,  
" Or by me on a Haycock he snoring does lie,  
" When the Booby much better himself might employ.   Mr. Leveridge. Enter a Town-spark. Gent. 
'Tis sultry Wether, Pretty Maid,  
Come, let's retire to yonder shade.  She stands bashfully hiding her face. 
Pray, why so shy? Why thus d'ye stand?  
Sure 'Tis no Crime to touch your hand.  
Oh let me take a civil kiss!  She Curtsies when he kisses her. 
What harm is there in doing this?  
Fie, why d'ye cover thus your Breast?  
One Favour more, and then I'm blessed.  She bashfully puts him off Lass. 
Oh pray, Sir.  
Nay, nay, Sir.  
Oh fie, Sir.  
Oh why, Sir.  
Why do you  
Now pull me thus to you?  Aside. 
Oh what shall I say!  
When a Gentleman suitors 'tis hard to say nay—  
I'm e'en out of Breath; Oh, dear! what d'ye do?  
Good La! Is it thus that you Gentlefolks woo!  
Good, Sir, do not hold me.  Gent. 
Good Lass, do not fly.  Lass. 
What good can I do you?  Gent. 
Come yonder, we'll try.  Lass. 
No, no; I can't find in my heart to comply.  Enter an African Lady, with Slaves who dance with Timbrels. A Negro Lord makes Love to her. Mr. Pate. Enter a Lusty Strapping Middle-aged Widow all in Mourning. She weeps and blubbers. 
Oh my poor Husband! For ever he's gone!  
Alas! I'm undone.  
I sigh, and I moan.  
Must I these cold Nights lie alone!  
Alas! I'm undone—  
I did what I list:  
We kissed, and we kissed:  
But his Health soon he missed,  
And thro' Business and Care he ceased to be gay;  
And at last, poor Soul! he dwindled away,  
We wrangled  
And jangled  
When in an ill mood,  
Yet often like Pigeons we billed and we could.  
'Tis done.  
Oh! he's gone  
Alack, and alack  
I must now for ever do Penance in Black.  Mr. Leveridge. Enter a Drunken Officer, Reeling, he hickhups. Offi. 
Why, Widow, why Widow! What makes thee so sad?  
Art thou mad?  
If one Husband is gone, there are more to be had.  
Come, I'll be thy Honey!— Leave keeping a Pother,  
One Man like one Nail serves to drive out another.  Wi. 
How! Talk so to me! What, think you I'd Wed?  
'Tis scarce a Month yet since my poor Hony's dead.  Offi. 
A Month! 'Tis an Age. You're mad to delay.  
Most Widows now choose e'er the Funeral Day.  Wi. 
Not I: I'll ne'er do't. Fie, what would People say?  Offi. 
They'll say, you're a Woman. Come, away with this Fan!  
See! See!— here's a Shape!— here's a Grace,— here's a Leg! here's a Man,  
I'll get thee with Twins, till a hundred and ten.  Wi. 
You lie,— go, you'll talk at another rate then.  She pats him in a smiling way. Offi. 
Then try me.  Wi. 
Leave fooling.  Offi. 
I'll do't by this Kiss.  
By this, this, and this!  
I'll be hanged if I miss.  Wi. 
Oh should I do this!  Offi. 
'twill ease you of Pain.  Wi. 
Go, you're a sad Man!  Offi. 
I'll kill thee with Kindness.  Wi. 
Ay, do if you can.  A French Countrywoman with Grapes and other Fruits comes in, in Wooden Shoes, a French Vintage-maker makes Love to her in a Dance. Mr. Crossfield. Mrs. Lindsey. Miss Campion. The Boy. While four of five Bars are performed by a Through Base, enter an Old Gentleman, in an Old-fashioned Dress, following a Young Lass, or Girl, and pushing a Youth from her. An Old Woman, in an Old-fashioned Dress, comes and Thrusts him away from the Young Couple, The Old Woman sings like one without Teeth. Old Wom. 
Hold good Mr. Fumble, Fie! What do your mean,  
To court my my Grand Daughter? She's scarce yet fifteen.  
And you H'usi'fe; why stay you? go get you to School.  
Your Baby go dandle,  
I'll handle  
This doting old Tool.  Old Man. 
Hold, hold!  
Do not scold.  
With my Grandson go cooe.  He points to the Youth 
You love him I know.  
Together go cooe!  
" Good Lad, prithee do.  
" Tho he's somewhat bashful, he'll quickly come to.  
I'm not yet so old,  
I long to be at her, to have and to hold.  
I'll wed thee,  To the Girl. 
I'll bed thee,  
I'll rouse thee,  
I'll touse thee,  
I'll give thee what's better and sweeter than Gold.  Girl. 
No, no, you're too old.  Old Man. 
Dear Girl, why so shy?  Girl. 
Old Man why so bold?  Old Wom. 
Good Lad, how d'you do?  Boy. 
ne'er the better for You  Old. Wom. 
Hold! Boy! I am brisk yet.  
And gaily can frisk it  
I've yet three good Teeth, and a Stump.  
And see I can caper and jump;  Jumps to the Boy. Old Man 
Why thus do you shun her? What makes you so bold?  Old Wom. 
Why thus do you shun him? What makes you so bold?  To the Girl. Boy and Girl. 
Indeed you're too old.  Old Man. 
I find 'tis in vain!  To the Old Woman. 
Come, no longer let's strain.  
Let the Young take the Young, Let the Old take the Old.  The Old Man goes and takes the Old Woman by the hand, and she him, hugging one another. 
We'll hug ourselves warm, now the Wether is cold.  All the four repeat the last two Lines as a Chorus. Enter a Dutch-woman with a Stove warming herself, her clothes lined with Furs. An Old Miser makes Love to her in a Dance. Enter Cupid, who sings. 

Come all, come all— Enter the Ages and Seasons.  
" Let soft Desires your Heart engage,  
" 'Tis sweet to Love in every Age.  
" Every Season, every Creature,  
" Yields to Love, and courts his Joys.  
" None are Truer, none are Sweeter  
" When Discretion guides the Choice.  
" Cupid with the Four Ages and the Four Seasons, mingle in a Dance while the following Grand Chorus is sung. Grand Chorus of all the Voices and Instruments.   

Hail, Soul of Desire!  
Hail, Guide of the Year!  
All Ages you fire.  
All Seasons you cheer.  
Thus ever conspire,  
And reign every where.  
" Love blooms in our Spring. The four Parts of Music answerable to the four Ages of Life and Seasons of the Year, sing each the Line that's suitable to them.  
" In our Summer it grows.  
" In our Autumn 'tis ripe.  
" In our Winter it glows.   Then all together. 

Hail, God of Desire!  
Hail, God of the Year!  
All Ages you fire.  
All Seasons you cheer.  
Thus ever conspire,  
And reign every where   
FINIS.     

THE EPILOGUE.  Enter Mr. Penkethman thrust forwards. 
HOld, pray don't thrust me on— hold! I'm ashamed.  
Well, if I speak, the Op'ra will be damned.  
D'you think by me to get an act of Grace,  
And gain the Ladies with my Charming Face?  
No, I'm too Modest, and dread coming on,  
As a poor Poet dreads a hiss or dun.  
I doubt, no Epilogue will please the Town,  
Loose Jests and Smut are damnably cried down.  
Had Joe Haines sung one, h'has a way so winning,  
'T might pass perhaps, like fine Italian Singing.  
Then my best way is humbly thus to fall.  Knock. 
Good People, pray, our Op'ra do not mawl!  
With rueful Phiz I beg it of you all.  
Dear Friends above, for me do your Endeavour,  
Stand by me still: Now, now's the time, or never.  
Sure I at least the gentle Masks shall please,  
They can't deny a Man upon his Knees.  
To please the Beaux, I'll study new Grimaces,  
For they're belied, or they love ugly Faces.  
Their own, I mean, in their dear Looking-Glasses.  
To please you, Critics, who fit here uneasy,  
I'll study— Nothing— for nothing e'er could please ye.  Mrs. Rogers advances. Mrs. Ro. 
Hold, Sir, methinks you better words might use.  
We should beg Favour, and Defects excuse.  
Pray let me try that less presuming Way,  
And humbly beg Indulgence, for the Play.  Mr. Penk. 
With all my heart, and so I'll sneak away.  Exit. Mrs. Rog. 
In altering Plays, there's an ungrateful Curse:  
Some still will say they're altered for the worse.  
If ours be so, sure 'tis a Plot on us;  
For he that did it writes for t'other house:  
Perhaps he does so now two several ways;  
Those write for Them who bring us wretched Plays.  
If with his Stuff he meant our house to break,  
To disappoint him, kind Sirs, let it take.  
Let this Play live; then we stand bravely fixed,  
But let none come his third day, nor the sixth.  
To you, bright Beauties, all our Joys we owe,  
You're the kind Stars from whom our Blessings flow.  
Cheered by your Beams we boast a second Life,  
And Pleasure's doubled by a generous Strife.  
To prop us now, new Favours on us shower,  
And still be great in Mercy, as in Power▪   

A Catalogue of Novels Printed for Richard Wellington at the Lute in St. Paul's Churchyard.  

THe Drudge or Jealous Extravagant.  
Princess of Cleves.  
Nicerc●●s. A Novel.  
Agiatis Queen of Sparta.  
Mock Clelia.  
Revengeful Mistress.  
The Duchess of Mazarines Memoirs written by herself.  
Palace Royal, or the Amours of the French King.  
Cardinal Mazarines' Letters.  
Count de Soisions.  
chaste Seraglio.  
Count de Amboise.  
Don Henrick.  
Court Secret.  
Fatal Beauty, or Agnes de Castro.  
Art of Making Love.  
Alcander.  
Neapolitan, or the Defender of his Mistress.  
Amours of Count Teckley.  
Don Sebastian.  
Rival Princess.  
Character of Love.  
Unhappy Lovers, or the Timmerous Fair one.  
Clytie. A Novel.  
Humours and Conversation of the Town.  
Rival Mother. A Novel.  
Casimir King of Poland.  
The Lover's Secretary.  
The Nun's Letters to a Cavileer.  
Religio Laici, in a Letter to Mr: Dryden.  
Intrigues and Gallantries of Christina Queen of Sweden.  
Gallant Ladies. A Novel.  
Princess of Fez.  
Count Gabalis.  
Homais Queen of Tunis.  
Life of the Duke of Guise.  
Unfortunate Hero.  
Irish Princess.  
Bassa of Buda.  
Amorous Abbess.  
Lisarda, or the Travels of Love, and Jealousy.  
Duke of Alancon and Queen Elizabeth.  
Amours of the Queen of Polonia.  
Hattigi King of Tameran.  
Pilgrim.  
Scanderbegg.  
Revived Fugitive.  
Lord Rochester's Familiar Letters, in 2 Voll.  
A Treatise of Education but especially of Young Gentlemen, by Obadiah Walker.  
The History of Polybius the Megalopilitan containing an Account of the Transactions of the whole World but principally of the Roman People during the 1 saint. Punic War, Translated by Sir Henry Sheers and Mr. Dryden in 3 Volumes, the 3 d. never before Printed.  
Mrs. Behn's Novels in one Voll.  
Incognita, or Love and Duty Reconciled, by Mr. Congreve.   
Where you may be also furnished with all sorts of Plays.