The Empress of MOROCCO.  
A TRAGEDY.  
WITH Sculptures.  
As it is Acted at the Duke's Theatre.  
Written by Elkanah Settle, Servant to his Majesty.  
Primos da versibus annos. Petr. Arb.  
LONDON,  
Printed for William Cademan at the Popes-head in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange in the Strand, 1673.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY, EARL of Norwich, and EARL-Marshal of ENGLAND, etc.  
My Lord,  
THe Impudence of Scribblers in this Age, has so corrupted the Original Design of Dedications, that before I dare tell you, this trifle begs your Lordship's Protection, I ought first to Examine on what grounds I make the Attack; for now every thing that e'er saw the Stage, how modest soever it has been there, without daring to show ' its Face above three Days, has yet the Arrogance to thrust itself into the World in Print with a Great Name before it: Where the fawning Scribbler shall compendiously say, the factions of Critics, the Ill time of the Year, and the worse Acting of the Players, has prejudiced his Play, but he doubts not but his Grace, or his Honour's more impartial Judgement will find that pardonable which the World has so Maliciously Censured; that is as much as to say: Sir, You are the only Person at Court whose blind side I dare venture on, not doubting but your good Nature will excuse what all the World (except the Author) has justly condemned. Thus they esteem their Plays, as the fanatics do their Religion, the better for suffering Persecution; and to disguise their Shame, and prop their Feeble Writings, they make Dedications when their Plays are Damned, as the Dutch do Bonfires, when their Navies are beaten; be their Success never so bad, they still write themselves Conquerors: And thus a Dedication which was formerly a Present to a Person of Quality, is now made a Libel on him, whilst the Poet either supposes his Patron to be so great a Sot, to defend that in Print, which he hist off the Stage: Or else makes himself a greater, in asking a Favour from him which he ne'er expects to obtain. However, that which is an abuse to the Patron, is a Compliment to the Bookseller, who whispers the Poet, and tells him, Sir, Your Play had misfortune, and all that— but if you'd but write a Dedication, or Preface— The Poet takes the hint, picks out a person of Honour, tell him he has a great deal of Wit, gives us an account who writ sense in the last Age, supposing we cannot be Ignorant who writes it in This; Disputes the nature of Verse, Answers a Cavil or two, Quibles upon the Court, Huffs the Critics, and the work's done. 'Tis not to be imagined how far a Sheet of this goes to make a Bookseller Rich, and a Poet Famous.  
But my Lord, whilst I trouble you with this kind of discourse, I beg you would not think I design to give Rules to the Press, as some of our Tribe have done to the Stage; or that I find fault with their Dedications in Compliment to my own: No, that's a trick I do not pretend to. Besides your particular Favours, in the public Honours you have condescended to grant this Play, and the Author, have heightened my sense of Gratitude beyond my Power of expressing it. This Play, which for no other Merit▪ 〈◊〉 take Sanctuary here, throws itself at your feet, as your own: the Story of which, I owe to your Hands, and your honourable Embassy into Africa: And on that score I present it to your Patronage, as the Jews made their Sacrifices which we read took fire from Heaven: The Incense was lighted by that Divinity to whom it was offered; nor is this all I may modestly boast of: For besides its noble Birth, you gave it a noble Education, when you bred it up amongst Princes, presenting it in a Court-Theatre, and by persons of such Birth and Honour, that they borrowed no Greatness from the Characters they acted. Thus has your Lordship showed yourself so great a Friend to the Muses; that as in former ages the Poet made the Patron: When all that's left of a Maecenas, is, that Horace gave him a Name: Your influence on the Contrary makes the Poet, and if this Play Live, or have Success enough to preserve a Name; 'tis by being your Creature, and enjoying your Smiles; which is the highest Ambition of  
MY LORD, Your Lordship's most Obliged, and most Obedient Servant, Elkanah Settle.   

The first Prologue at Court, spoken by the Lady ELIZABETH HOWARD.  

I Wish you only did expect to day,  
A common Prologue to some usual Play.  
For when young Ladies are to speak to Kings,  
You look that they should say no Vulgar things.  
'Tis below us what meaner Actors do:  
Either t' excuse ourselves, or rail at You.  
Nor come you here as to the Common Pit,  
With the lest hope of finding fault with Wit.  
Loves gentler Thoughts possess the Men of Sense:  
At lest it shall be so, ere they go hence.  
Gallants take warning then: thentime to fear;  
When Youth and Beauties on the Stage appear.  
Those Charms elsewhere are pretty dangerous found:  
But here we shoot upon a Rising Ground.  
No Heart can scape we have a mind to hit,  
Unless 'tis guarded by some Eyes i'th' Pit.  
To Hearts engaged our power does not extend:  
And therefore, Sir, to you we humbly bend. To the King.  
Yet from your Constancy we need not fear:  
To all fair Nymphs you keep an open Ear.  
No watching Eyes, those soft alluring Wiles,  
Can hinder you from giving Gracious Smiles.  
Now for the Men: Their praise should next be shown;  
But that I think were better let alone.   
Written by the Earl of Mulgrave.   

The second Prologue at Court, spoken by the Lady ELIZABETH HOWARD.  

WIT has of late took up a Trick t'appear,  
Unmannerly, or at the best severe.  
And Poets share the Fate by which we fall,  
When kindly we attempt to please you all.  
'Tis hard, your scorn should against such prevail,  
Whose ends are to divert you, tho' they fail.  
You Men would think it an ilnatured Jest,  
Should we laugh at you when you did your best.  
Then rail not here, though you see reason for't.  
If Wit can find itself no better sport;  
Wit is a very foolish thing at Court.  
Wit's business is to please, and not to fright,  
'Tis no Wit to be always in the right:  
You'll find it none, who dare be so to night.  
Few so ill-bred will venture to a Play,  
To spy out Faults in what we Women say.  
For us no matter what we speak, but how:  
How kindly can we say— I hate you now.  
And for the men, if you'll laugh at 'em, do;  
They mind themselves so much, they'll ne'er mind you.—  
But why do I descend to lose a Prayer  
On those small Saints in Wit, the God sits there.  
To you (Great Sir) my Message hither tends,  
From Youth and Beauty your Allies and Friends.  
See my Credentials written in my Face,  
They challenge your Protection in this place:  
And hither come with such a Force of Charms,  
As may give check even to your prosperous Arms:  
Millions of Cupid's hovering in the Rear,  
Like Eagles following fatal Troops, appear.  
All waiting for the slaughter, which draws nigh,  
Of those bold Gazers, who this Night must die.  
Nor can you 'scape our soft Captivity,  
From which old Age alone must set you free.  
Then tremble at the fatal Consequence—  
Since, 'tis well known for your own part (Great Prince)  
'Gainst us you still have made a weak Defence.—  
Be generous, and wise, and take our part;  
Remember we have Eyes, and you a Heart.  
Else you may find, too late, that we are things  
Born to kill Vassals, and to conquer Kings,  
But oh! to what vain Conquest I pretend,  
whilst Love is our Commander, and your Friend.  
Our Victory your Empire more assures,  
For Love will ever make the Triumph yours.   Written by the Earl of Rochester.  

PROLOGUE At the Play House.  

FOr this days Treatment you have paid too dear.  
Your best beloved diversion is not here,  
All you're now like to have is a dull Play.  
The Wells have stolen the Vizard Masks away.  
Now punk in penitential Drink begins,  
To purge the surfeit of her London Sins.  
Their Loves have been o'er-stocked, and but make stop,  
For a new tillage towards another Crop.  
'Tis seasonable sometimes to forbear:  
Alas it is not Harvest all the Year.  
Though heated they like tattered Ships keep in,  
They stay but to refit, then Launch again.  
Be honest then one Day, and patient sit,  
With neither bawdy in the Play, nor Pit.  
And though thus far you to your loss are come,  
What's yet still worse you must drive Empty home.  
Nor when Play's done need the shamefaced Debauch▪  
Change the guilt Chariot for the hackney Coach.  
Then since our sober Andience denies  
You furious men of prey all hopes of prize:  
To see the Play should be your only Ends,  
we'll then presume you are the Author's Friends.  
And though you miss your dear delights, you may  
Be to the Poet kind, and Clap the Play:  
Your Hands are now employed no other Way.    

The Actors Names.  

Mulai Labas, Son to the Emperor of Morocco. Mr. Harris.  
Mulai Hamet, a Prince of the Royal Blood, contracted to Mariam, and General of the Emperor's Forces. Mr. Smith.  
Crimalhaz, a Courtier and Gallant to the Queen Mother. Mr. Batterton.  
Hametalhaz, his Confident and Creature, Governor of a Castle in Morocco. Mr. Medbourne.  
Abdelcador, Friend to Mulai Hamet. Mr. Crosby.  
Achmat, An Eunuch  
Laula, Empress of Morocco, and Mother to Mulai Labas and Mariam. Mrs. Batterton.  
Mariam her Daughter. Mrs. Marry Lee.  
Morena, Daughter to Taffalet. Mrs. Johnson.  
Villains, Lords, Messenger's, Priests, Masquers, and other Attendants.    

THE EMPRESS OF MOROCCO.  

The First Act,  

Scene the First.  
 
Scene opens, Mulai Labas appears bound in Chains, attended by Guards.  Mulai L. 

Condemned to Fetters, and to Sceptres born!  
'Tis in this Garb unhappy Princes mourn.  
Yet Fortune to great Courages is kind;  
'Tis he wants Liberty whose Soul's confined.  
My Thoughts outfly that mighty Conqueror,  
Who having one World vanquished, wept for more:  
Fettered in Empires, he enlargement craved  
To the short Walk of one poor Globe enslaved.  
My Soul mounts higher, and Fates Power disdains,  
And makes me reign a Monarch in my Chains.  
But 'tis my Father has decreed my fate;  
Yet still he shows his Greatness in his hate.  
Thy rage, brave Prince, mean Subjects does despise;  
None but thy Son shall be thy Sacrifice.   Enter Morena bound. 

This dazzling Object my weak sight invades:  
Such Beauty would make Dungeons lose their shades.   Moren. 

Remember, Sir, when first you were a Guest  
To Taffaletta's Court, and to my Breast,  
That I, fond Woman, in a borrowed shape,  
Was a Conspirator in my own Rape,  
When in a fatal night, whose darkness did  
Both our Escapes, and my faint Blushes hide:  
With You I fled my Country, left a Crown,  
Heir only now t' an unkind Fathers Frown;  
And now for refuge to Morocco come,  
We in your Father's Court receive this doom;   points to her Chains. 

Our Love from him this Entertainment gains;  
We in our Sanctuary meet our Chains:  
Our Fathers too have now proclaimed a War;  
By Taffaletta's Arms we are pursued.  
Our amorous flights like threatning Comets are,  
Which thus draw after them a train of Blood.   Mulai L. 

Why do you thus a sad relation make  
Of all that you have suffered for my sake,  
Unless you my Unworthiness resent,  
And of your misplaced kindnesses repent?   Moren. 

No, I recount the Scenes of our past storms,  
To arm your Fancy for more pleasing forms;  
I come to tell you that your Father's kind,  
And has our mutual Happiness designed.  
Of our past Woes I have this relation given,  
As Purgatory does make way for Heaven.   Mulai L. 

This does disperse my Fears, checks my Despair:  
And has my Father— Shall we then— and are  
Our Loves and Hopes— Oh my unruly Joy  
Which does my Thoughts so in their Birth destroy,  
That my disordered Words no form can bear!  
Speak then what You would say, and I would hear.   Moren. 

He has pronounced such great and glorious things,  
As are fit only for the Breath of Kings:  
Our happy Passion he so far approves,  
That ere three days expire he'll crown our Loves.  
Know then, to grant our Souls a stricter Tye,  
He has decreed— we shall together Die.   Mulai L. 

How are my visionary Dreams retired,  
And my fond Hopes in the Embrace expired?   Mor. 

That day my Father Taffaletta's Arms  
To this proud City give their first Alarms,  
His Standard fixed before Morocco's Walls,  
Mulai Labas and his Morena falls.  
He for my Murder does this reason plead,  
He will present my Father with my Head.  
That sudden Blow, which he designs for you,  
'Tis your suspected Treason prompts him to:  
And the same Jealousy that made his Breath  
Decree your Chains, makes him pronounce your Death.   Mulai L. 

I freely at his feet my Life will throw;  
Life is a debt we to our Parents ow.  
But die suspected! Can he think so foul  
A Thought as Treason harbours in his Soul,  
Which does Morena's sacred Image bear!  
No shape of ill can come within her Sphere.  
But must Morena fall? when e'er she bleeds,  
He no severer a Damnation needs,  
That dares pronounce the Sentence of her Death,  
Than the Infection that attends that Breath.   Moren. 

Hold, Sir, and your unmanly fears remove,  
And show your Courage equal to your Love:  
Let us to Death in solemn Triumph go,  
As to the nobler Nuptials of the two:  
For when we're dead, and our freed Souls enlarged,  
of Nature's grosser burdens we're discharged:  
Then gentle as a happy Lovers Sigh,  
Like wandering Meteors through the Air we'll fly;  
And in our airy Walk, as subtle Guests,  
We'll steal into our cruel Father's Breasts,  
There read their Souls, and tract each Passions sphere,  
See how Revenge moves there, Ambition here:  
And in their Orbs view the dark Characters  
Of Sieges, Ruins, Murders, Blood and Wars.  
We'll blot out all those hideous Droughts, and write  
Pure and white forms; we'll with a radiant light  
Their Breasts encircle, till their Passions be  
Gentle as Nature in its Infancy;  
Till softened by our Charms their Furies cease,  
And their Revenge dissolves into a Peace.  
Thus by our Death appeased, their Quarrel ends:  
Whom Living we made Foes, Dead we'll make Friends.   Mulai L. 

Oh generous Princess! whose courageous Breath  
Can set such glorious Characters on Death:  
The ancient World did but too modest prove,  
In giving a Divinity to Love.  
Love the great Power o'th' higher World controls,  
Heaven but creates, but Love refines our Souls.   Enter to them Q. Mother weeping. Q. Moth. 
Oh Son! your Royal Father—  Mulai L. 

— Hold! your Tears  
Confound my hopes. O my presaging fears!  
Has he— it cannot be— has he decreed—  
Morena must not, no, she shall not bleed:  
The Skies would blush when that bold deed were done,  
And look more red than at a setting Sun.   Q. Moth. 
'Tis not Morena who is doomed to die.  Mulai L. 

Has he decreed I shall her place supply?  
If so, thanks my kind Father, thou hast done  
The only deed that could oblige a Son:  
If I to save your Life resign my own to Morena.  
I shall more glorious shine than on his Throne.   Q. Moth. 

That object which your Mother's tears procures  
Is your great Fathers sudden fate, not yours.   Mulai L. 
My Father! ha!  Q. Moth. 

— is dead. Just as he sat  
Pronouncing yours and your Morena's fate;  
A sudden Check his hasty Breath controlled,  
He startled, trembled, and his eyeballs rolled,  
His wandering fears, his unshaped thoughts supplied  
With horrors; then Mulai Labas he cried,  
Forgive what my mistaken Rage has done,  
In peace possess thy Mistress and my Throne:  
Then with his dying Breath his Soul retired,  
And in a sullen sigh his Life expired.   Mulai L. 

The Emperor dead! and with his dying Breath  
Did he Morena to his Son bequeath?  
He in this Gift a Father has out-don,  
And robs me of the Duty of a Son;  
For those just Tears, which Nature ought t'imploy,  
To pay my last Debt to his Memory,  
The Crowning of my Passion disallows;  
Grief slightly sits on happy Lovers Brows.   Enter Crimalhaz and Hametalhaz, with Attendants. A Shout within. All 
Long live Mulai Labas Emperor of Morocco.  Crim. 

Welcome, brave Prince, to your great Father's Crown,  
Advancing from a Prison to a Throne:  
The City does in one full shout concur,  
And in one voice proclaim you Emperor:  
Yet, Sir, your Freedom must not reach so far,  
But this fair Princess Chains you still must wear.  
The Sun, Great Sir, must in one circuit view  
Your Coronation and your Nuptials too.   Mulai L. 

Enjoy a Throne, and my Morena wed!  
A Joy too great were not my Father dead.  
The Force of one the others Power controls:  
Heaven fits our swelling Passions to our Souls.  
When some great Fortune to mankind's conveyed  
Such Blessings are by Providence allayed.  
Thus Nature to the World a Sun creates,  
But with cold Winds his pointed Rays rebates.   Exit Mulai L. leading Morena. Q Moth. 

Besotted in thy Love and Empire's Charms,  
Sleep, and grow dull in your Morena's Arms.  
'Twas not for this I raised thee to a Crown,  
Poisoned the Father to enthrone the Son:  
Hadst thou been ripe for Death, we had decreed,  
Thou shouldst him in his Fate, not Throne, succeed:  
Thy early growth we in thy Chains had crushed,  
And mixed thy Ashes with thy Fathers Dust.  
But live, fond Boy: to manage our Design,  
We first must thy Great General undermine.  
They, who by Policy a Crown pursue,  
Snatch at one Grasp the Sword and Sceptre too.  
Then we'll with ease depose an Armless King:  
Men sport with Serpents when they've lost their Sting.  
When our Designs to the full height succeed  
I'll place the Crown Imperial on your Head. to Crimalhaz.  
Sir, of your Progress a Relation make,  
How died the King? how did the Poison take?   Crim. 

With safety I accomplished your desire;  
For Hell and Night did in the deed conspire.  
As if He by some secret instinct knew  
The fatal Potion had been sent by you:  
Up from his Seat he rose, and sighing cried,  
O unkind Laula! and then groaned and died.  
His Death so much of horror did present,  
I cursed my Hand for being the Instrument:  
A strange unusual trembling shook my Heart,  
As that Magician, whose infernal art,  
Raising a Vision, is with Terror seized  
At th'Apparition his own Charms have raised.  
Have you considered, Madam, what you've done?   Q. M. 

Poisoned my Husband, Sir, and if there need  
Examples to instruct you in the deed,  
I'll make my Actions plainer understood,  
Coppying his Death on all the Royal Blood.   Crim. 
The Falls of Kings are heavy, and on You—  Q. M. 

Hold, Sir, sure you have drunk the Poison too,  
That thus your Blood grows cold, and your faint Breast  
Is with such dull and stupid Fears possessed.  
A Statesman's Breast should scorn to feel remorse;  
Murder and Treason are but things of course.   Crim. 

I am a Convert, Madam, for kind Heaven,  
Has to mankind immortal Spirits given,  
And Courage is their Life: but when that sinks,  
And to tame Fears and Coward-faintness shrinks,  
We the great Work of that bright Frame destroy,  
And show the World, that even our Souls can die.  
By your Example I'll great Deeds pursue:  
My Thoughts shan't start at what my Hand dares do.   Hamet. 

Madam, as Agents in this great Design,  
Zibdy, Morat and Abdrahamon join;  
They the King's Ears will with such Whispers fill,  
As shall the Poison Jealousy instill:  
And by such subtlety his Breast infect,  
Till he his General's Loyalty suspect.   Crim. 

Then to promote Suspicion we'll proclaim  
His General's high Courage, Power and Fame;  
His Army's Love, and his great Spirit praise:  
And to that pitch his heightened Virtues raise,  
That their Perfection shall appear their Crime,  
As Giants by their Height do Monsters seem.   Q. M. 

Brave Crimalhaz! thy Breast and mine agree:  
Now thou art worthy of a Crown and Me.  
And by such Arts I'll my Sons Breast invade  
Till his fond Duty has his Life betrayed,  
Till by my means we have his Army gained,  
And have removed the Sword into your Hand:  
And then we kindly and safely may  
Our bloody Ensigns to the World display:  
His Power once gone, we'll act his Death in state,  
And dash his Blood against his Palace Gate.  
Great Deeds should in the open day be done,  
As Sacrifices offered to the Sun.   Crim. 

But till these mighty Actions ripened are  
We must the borrowed Looks of Friendship wear.   Q. M. 

To flattering lightning our feign Smiles conform,  
Which, backed with Thunder, do but guild a Storm.   Exeunt.  
Finis Actus primi.   

Act the Second,  

Scene the First.  
 
The Scene opened, is represented the Prospect of a large River, with a glorious Fleet of Ships, supposed to be the Navy of Mulai Hamet, after the Sound of Trumpets and the Discharging of Guns.  Enter King, Young Queen, Hametalhaz and Attendants. Hamet. 

GReat Sir, Your Royal Father's General  
Prince Mulai Hamet's Fleet does homewards sail,  
And in a solemn and triumphant Pride  
Their Course up the great River Tensift guide,  
Whose guided Currents do new Glories take  
From the Reflection his bright Streamers make:  
The Waves a Masque of Martial Pageants yield,  
A flying Army on a floating Field.  
Order and Harmony in each appear,  
Their lofty Bulks the foaming Billows bear.  
In state they move, and on the Waves rebound,  
As if they danced to their own Trumpets sound:  
By Winds inspired, with lively Grace they roll  
As if that Breath and motion lent a Soul.  
And with that Soul, they seem taught Duty too,  
Their Topsails lowered, their Heads with Reverence bow;  
As if they would their General's Worth enhance,  
From him, by instinct, taught Allegiance.  
Whilst the loud Cannons echo to the shore,  
Their flaming Breathes salute You Emperor.  
From their deep Mouths he does your Glory sing:  
With Thunder, and with lightning, greets his King.  
Thus to express his Joys, in a loud Choir  
And Consort of winged Messengers of fire  
He has his Tribute sent, and Homage given,  
As men in Incense send up Vows to Heaven.   Enter Mulai Hamet and Abdelcador, Attended, introduced with a Flourish of Triumpets: Mulai Hamet kneels to the King. King. 

Welcome true owner of that Fame you bring,  
A Conqueror is a Guardian to a King.  
Conquest and Monarchy consistent are;  
'Tis Victory secures those Crowns we wear.   Mulai Hamet. 

In all that Sword you lent me has subdued,  
I only, Sir, my Duty have pursued:  
And acts of Duty merit no applause,  
I owe my Laurels to my Royal Cause.  
My Actions all are on your Name enroled,  
Since 'tis from you my Conquering Power I hold.   Hametal. 

But in Morocco his high Pride may find  
His Name less glorious, and his Stars less kind.   aside. Mulai Hamet. 

Sir, your victorious Arms are doub'ly crowned,  
On Sea and Land the same success have found:  
When first our greeting Navies did salute,  
And in the rage of Flames our Cause dispute:  
The Trains of Fire our fatal Guns did make  
Did the fierce shape of blazing Comets take:  
Our meeting Heat such fury did contract,  
That Comets can but threaten what we act.  
But when the Day had a spectator been,  
And the whole Progress of this Parley seen,  
Led by your Genius, fate their Side forsook,  
Some of their Ships I sunk, and some I took.  
But when the interposing shades of Night  
Assisted them in their disordered flight,  
I made their Fleet to Conquest light my way,  
With burning Ships made Beacons on the Sea.   King. 

Kind Fate, in giving you so great Success,  
Could scarce grant more, nor did You merit less.   Mulai H. 

Their Arms who have at Sea victorious been,  
Do but the Outworks of an Empire win.  
Then to complete, what on the Sea before  
I'd but begun, I landed on their Shore.   Abdelc. 

Saphee and Salli, Mugadore, Oran,  
The famed Arzille, Alcazer, Tituan,  
Which the Usurper Gayland's Power possessed,  
Those his Sword conquered, and his Fame the rest:  
For the less Cities at his Names surprise,  
Yielding made Crowds of bloodless Victories.  
Your Arms against your Foes so much have done,  
They feel the Heat though the fierce Fire be gone.   Mulai H. 

And now—  
Hearing whose Force Morocco will invade,  
I have brought home your Army to your aid.   Y. Q. 

Valour and Fate such just success allow,  
As firmly place the Laurel on your Brow,  
Whose very Looks so much your Foes surprise,  
That You, like Beauty, conquer with your eyes.  
But, Mulai Hamet, now your Sword must be  
Employed in a more Cruel Victory;  
Against Invaders You your Force must lead,  
And meet my Father in an Army's Head:  
But the rough hand of War more gentle make,  
And spare His Blood for His Morena's sake.   Mulai H. 

We only do aspire to this great end,  
To make your Father not our Prize, but Friend.   King. 

Should Fortune Crown our Forces with Success,  
Our Arms, though Conquering, shall not make him less.   Enter Mariam, attended. Mulai H. 

Now I'm a Conqueror, Mariamne's Name alone  
Has Triumph in't; I from this hour am made  
Greater than if I wore those Crowns I won;  
My Laurels too without your Beams would fade.   Mariam. 

If Mariamnes Eyes, Great Sir, can give  
Your Laurels Life, she grants them leave to live.   Mulai H. 
Oh my full Joys!  Mariam. 

I come, as one of the Admiring Crowd,  
To welcome Him whose Actions speak so loud.   Mulai H. 

Madam, my Deeds can reach no higher Fame,  
Than that your precious Breath gives 'em a Name.   Mar. 

No doubt but War and the harsh sound of Arms  
Has from your Bosom chased Loves softer Charms:  
Your Thoughts, accustomed now to Martial Toils,  
Court only Honour, dressed in savage Spoils.   Mulai H. 

No, Madam, War has taught my Hands to aim  
At Glory, to deserve a Lover's Name;  
Since my Ambition has your Heart pursued,  
I Conquer Crowns to make my Title good:  
Whose narrow Thoughts to lesser Objects move;  
His Soul wants Room to entertain your Love.   King. 

Sir, to requite you with a Crown would be  
Too mean Reward, Crowns you've bestowed on me:  
To speak my Thanks and Gratitude more large,  
That vaster Debt I owe She shall discharge.  
To pay what so much Merit does require,  
I do command you love, where I admire.   to Mariam. Mulai H. 

Though Mariamne's Love appeared before  
The highest Happiness Fate had in store,  
Yet when I view it, as an Offering  
Made by the Hand of an obliging King,  
It takes new Charms, looks brighter, lends new Heat.  
No Objects are so Glorious or so Great,  
But what may still a Greater Form put on,  
As Optic Glasses magnify the Sun.   Enter Crimalhaz, Shouts within. Crim. 

Your Subjects wait with eager joys to pay  
Their Tribute to your Coronation Day.   King. 

You are arrived a welcome Guest, to share  
Those Ceremonies which their Joys prepare; to Mulai Hamet.  
Your Presence to their solemn Rites will grant  
That Ornament which this days Triumphs want:  
What more could their impatient Wishes meet,  
Then in one day a King and Conqueror greet?  
Whilst they behold triumphant on one Throne  
The Wearer and Defender of a Crown.  
Lead on—   Mulai H. 

Lead on, and all that kneel to you,  
Shall bow to me. This Conquest makes it due.   to Mariam. Exeunt all but Chrimalhaz. Crim. 

Dull Soldier, in thy Victories go on,  
And live to see me wear the Crowns you won.  
Let Cowards to their Father's Thrones advance,  
Be Great and Powerful by Inheritance.  
No Laurels by descent my Brow adorn;  
But what gains Crowns. I am to Courage born,  
Ambition is the rise of Souls, like mine.  
Those Wreaths my Birth does want, my Brain shall win.  
They in advance to Greatness glorious prove,  
Who out of the dull tract of Birthright move.  
Birthright, the Prop of an unpurchased Name,  
A weak Alliance to an elder Fame.  
No Glory by Descent is never worn;  
Men are to Worth and Honour Raised, not Born.   Exit.  

The Scene opened.  
 
A State is presented, the King, Queen and Mariam seated, Mulai Hamet, Abdelcador and Attendants, a Moorish Dance is presented by Moors in several Habits, who bring in an artificial Palmtree, about which they dance to several antic Instruments of Music; in the intervals of the Dance, this Song is sung by a Moorish Priest and two Moorish Women; the Chorus of it being performed by all the Moors.  


1. Stanza.  
No Music like that which Loyalty sings,  
A Consort of Hearts at the Crowning of Kings:  
There's no such delightful and ravishing Strain,  
As the Echoes and Shouts of Long Live and Reign.  
Long live and reign, long live and reign,  
No Shouts so delightful, as, Long Live and Reign.  
Long live and reign, etc. Chorus.   

2. Stanza.  
No Homage like what from Loyalty springs,  
we'll kneel to our Gods, but we'll die for our Kings:  
We'll pay that Devotion our Lives shall maintain:  
No raising of Altars like Long Live and Reign.  
Long live and reign, long live and Reign,  
No raising of Altars, like Long Live and Reing.  
Long live, etc.    After the Dance. King. 

They have paid theirs, now I my Debts will pay,  
Sir, the next Sun shall see your Nuptial day.  
We, who would best great Services requite,  
Do first our Friendships, than our Bloods unite:  
And that your Hands more solemnly may join,  
Our Royal Mother's Gift shall second mine.   Y. Queen. 

Her gentle Breath already, from just Fame,  
Has kindly entertained your Glorious Name;  
And in that Dress, You, as a Conqueror, may  
To Her a more than welcome Visit pay.   King. 

But since the Sorrows of the Mourning Queen,  
For our late Father, make Her keep unseen,  
Let this conduct you.   Gives him a Ring. Mulai H. 

I am here more blessed—  
Than if I an Imperial Seat possessed.  
Whilst in your Breast an Empire I obtain, to Mariam.  
Not only Kings, but God's unenvied reign.  
Beauty would almost Infidels create,  
Who, beyond Love, can wish a higher state?   Exeunt all but Abdelcador. Abdelc. 

Oh Charming Sex!—  
How vast a Circle does thy Magic take?  
The highest Spirits humblest Lovers make.  
All that Heroic Greatness, which but now  
Made haughty Foes and stubborn Nations bow,  
Turns Vassal to a Smile, a Looks disguise:  
Who conquer Thousands are one Woman's Prize.  
Fate sets Commanding Beauty in their way,  
Beauty that has more Godlike Power than they:  
Love o'er the Hearts of yielding Heroes sports;  
Who'd Conquerors in Camps, are Slaves in Courts.   Exit.  
Finis Actus secundi.   

Act the Third,  

Scene the First.  Enter Mulai Hamet, Scene the Palace. Mulai H. 

'TIs now our Royal Mother's Breath must bind  
That sacred tie of Love my King has signed,  
And Providence has sealed: make Her but kind.   Exit. 

Scene a Bedchamber.  
The Scene opens, and discovers Crimalhaz and Queen Mother sleeping on a Couch, a Table standing by, with Crimalhaz's Plume of Feathers, and his Drawn Sword upon it.  Re-enter Mulai Hamet. Mulai H. 

Laula in Crimalhaz his Arms asleep!  
Ha! Does she thus for her dead Husband weep?  
Oh fond and amorous Queen! has Lust such Charms,  
Can make Her fly to an Adulterers Arms?  
His Sword drawn for his Guard,— Spies the Sword.  
But he shall die.— No, He shall Wake, and Know  
The Justice and the Hand that gives the Blow:  
Should I descend to a Revenge so base,  
His Death unarmed my Glory would deface:  
I will restore the Traitor's Sword; for still  
I have been taught to conquer those I kill.  
Well, as a Witness of his Crime, his Sword  
I'll take, which when we meet shall be restored.  
Then secretly, but honourably too,  
My Hand shall Act what to his Guilt is due.  
For, lest I should my Queen's Disgrace proclaim,  
I'll right her Wrongs, but I'll conceal her Shame.   Exit.  

The Scene changes to an Antichamber.  Mulai Hamet reenters with the same Sword, and in passing over the Stage is overtaken by the King. King. 
Mulai Hamet! stay.  Mulai H. 
The King!  King. 
What have you there?  Mulai H. 
Cursed Chance! what shall I say?  aside. King. 

You thus appear  
t'o've left the Field to gather Laurels here.  
Who is the Man that has this Honour gained,  
To be subdued by such a Generous Hand?  
Tell me.   Mulai H. 
Your Royal Pardon.  King. 

No, proceed.  
If you have killed him, I forgive the Deed;  
Who e'er against You durst his Sword unsheathe  
Has justly from your Hand deserved his Death.   Mulai H. 
No, Sir, he lives, and lives unvanquished too.  King. 
How, lives!  Mulai H. 

Oh do not your Demands pursue.  
Urge me no more, nor force me to reveal  
The only thing my Honour would conceal.   King. 

How, Mulai Hamet, durst you act that thing  
You dare not utter to your Friend, and King.   Mulai H. 

My Kings Esteem I by my Silence lose,  
And Speaking, I his Mother's Shame expose.   aside. King. 

Speak, if you can by Friendship be conjured.  
Whose is it?   Muly H. 
Sir, 'tis Crimalhaz his Sword.  King. 

How Crimalhaz! Are you not newly from  
Th' apartment of my Royal Mother come?  
In what defenceless Garb did you surprise  
Him there, that you disarmed him with such ease?  
We o'er our womens' Honours set such Eyes,  
That the Seraglio all access denies.  
Who enters there without my Signet dies.   Mulai H. 

Her Shame too openly will be descried;  
His Jealousy will find what I would hide.   aside. King. 

A sudden Fancy does my Breast inflame,  
Something so strange, as I want words to name:  
But She's my Mother, and I dare not guests—  
Yet She's a Woman, and I can no less  
Than start at Horrors which my Honour stain.  
Confusion! and was Crimalhaz the Man?   Mulai H. 

Oh! Sir, what has my forced Obedience done?  
Against a Mother I've incensed a Son.  
Your Princely Brow let no disorders change,  
Let my Hand, Sir, Your disturbed Peace revenge.   King. 

No, Mulai Hamet has a Sword too good  
To be defiled with an Adulterers Blood.  
He t'an ignobler Fate shall be condemned;  
I'll make him infamous, low, and contemned.  
Disrobed of all his Titles he shall bleed,  
Like a Crowned Victim to an Altar led,  
Whose Wreaths and Garlands to the fire are cast,  
And then the naked Sacrifice falls last.  
That sinking Statesman undergoes the worst  
Of Deaths, whose Honours and whose Power dies first.   exit King. Mulai H. 

This was the only Chance could shake my Fame.  
Oh weak Foundations of a Glorious Name!  
I from the Field do a Crowned Conqueror come,  
To turn a base Informer here at home:  
Yet nothing is so bright but has some Scars;  
Men can throng Glasses find out Spots in Stars.   Exit.  
The Scene changes again to the Queen Mother's Bedchamber, where She and Crimalhaz appear hand in hand; She in a Morning Dress. Crim. 

Love acts the part of tributary Kings:  
As they pay homage to their Conqueror;  
Our kind Embraces are but Offerings  
Of Tribute to triumphant Beauty's Power.   Q. M. 

Great Spirits Rivals are to Gods, and can,  
Were all the World like me, their Heaven unman:  
We'd antedate our Bliss, not stay to move,  
like Pageant-Saints, to airy Seats above:  
We'd here below enjoy our Chiefest Good,  
And reap Delights which they ne'er understood.   Crim. 
Ha! my Sword gone! Madam, we are betrayed.  Q. M. 
whose's he that dares our Privacy invade?  Crim. 
Some fatal Eye our interview has seen.  Q. M. 

Who e'er has seen us, knows I am a Queen.  
That powerful Word his Silence does demand;  
'Tis Blasphemy to name, nay understand  
What Princes act.—   Crim. 

Ho! Achmat, Achmat,— Enter Achmat.  
— What bold Man has been  
Admitted to th' Apartment of the Queen?   Ach. 
Prince Mulai Hamet.  Q. Moth, 
Ha! by whose Command?  Achm. 

The Royal Signet from the Kings own hand  
Gave him Admittance.   Q. Moth. 

But, rude Slave, how durst  
You violate what I commanded first?  
Know, Traitor, I am Mother to a King:  
His Power subordinate from Me does spring.  
My Orders therefore should unquestioned stand,  
Who gave him Breath, by which he does Command.  
What my Commands have missed, this shall make good.  
Princes are by their Deeds best understood.   Stabs the Eunuch, who falls and dies. Crim. 

Fall, and in Death all hopes of Mercy lose,  
Who durst the Secrets of your Queen disclose:  
Closets of Princes should be held Divine,  
As a Saint's presence Consecrates his Shrine:  
And Princes Pleasures should Alliance hold  
With their great Power, be free and uncontrou'ld.   Q. Moth. 

Is it not pity now—  
That Grave Religion, and dull sober Law  
Should the high flights of Sportive Lover's awe?  
Whilst for the loss, of what's not worth a Name,  
The slight excursions of a wanton flame,  
You must your Ruin meet, and I my Shame:  
And yet we must not at our Dooms repine;  
Because Law and Religion are Divine.   

Yes, they're Divine; for they're so overgood,  
I'm sure, they ne'er were made by Flesh and Blood.  
But since 'tis passed, what does your Courage think?  
You will not shake, at what I scorn to shrink.   Crim. 

No, though I lose that Head which I before  
Desig'nd should the Morocco-Crown have wore:  
Yet what's the fear of Tortures, Death, Hell? Death,  
Like a faint Lust, can only stop the Breath.  
Tortures weak Engines that can run us down,  
Or screw us up till we are out of tune.  
And Hell, a feeble, puny cramp of Souls:  
Such infant Pains may serve to frighten Fools.  
Fates, if I'm doomed your Mark, ●…'le stand you fair;  
Nor will I for your Favours lose a Prayer.   Q. M. 

A prayer, Devotion and a Statesman! No,  
The Pow's above are titular below:  
Stars are all Eye, and when great Deeds are done  
All their faint Lights are but bare Looker's on.  
Now thou art brave, none but a Heart above  
The shock of Fortune, could deserve my Love:  
But fear no danger, to our aid I'll call  
My Arts and Fiends in Hell to stop our Fall.  
To this I'll for our safety take recourse:  
Through your right Hand this fatal Dagger force:  
Then leave the Conduct of the Deed to me;  
Fate dares no less than my Protector be.   Here Crimalhaz stabs himself in his right Arm, which immediately appears bloody. Crim. 
'Tis done.  Throws away the Dagger. Enter to them the King and Mulai Hamet. King. 

May Heaven forgive my Eyes, that they have seen  
This Object in a Mother and a Queen.   Q. M. 

Oh Son! be deaf to what will wound your Ear,  
Let this black Day be canceled from the Year.  
But if your Justice must his Faults pursue,  
Impose on Me what to his Guilt is due.   Mulai H. 

See how she treats her Shame: Madam, I wish  
Your Virtues greater, or your Birth were less.   King. 

Since you have sullied thus our Royal Blood,  
The Grounds and Rise of this past Crime relate, to Crimalhaz.  
That, having your Offences understood,  
We, what we can't recall, may expiate.   Crim. 
Sir, 'Twas my fate—  Q. M. 

Hold, Sir, the Story does to me belong,  
A Woman's Frailty from a Woman's Tongue.  
Whilst pensively I in my Closet sat  
My Eyes paid Tribute to my Husband's Fate,  
And while those Thoughts my sinking Spirits seized  
His Entrance my dejected Courage raised:   Pointing to Mulai Hamet. 

The sudden Object did new Thoughts produce;  
My Griefs suspended, lent my Tears a Truce:  
For than I otherwise employed my Eyes,  
Whilst in His Aspect I read Victories. points to Mulai Hamet.  
But, Mulai Hamet, than your cruel Breast—   Mulai H. 
Speak.  Q. M. 
Let my Tears and Blushes speak the rest:  Mulai H. 
What does she mean? My labouring Thoughts dispatch.  Q. M. 

Your Soul and Person Nature did ill match.  
Such savage Passions and unruly Heat,  
Lodged in Your Breast, hold a too glorious Seat.   Mulai H. 
This mystic Language does my Sense confound.  Q. Moth. 
Oh, Sir!  King. 
This riddling History expound.  Q. M. 

Well, Sir, since you will force my Tongue, I must  
Be to my Honour and my Virtue just.  
Having a while upon each other gazed,  
He at my Silence, I his Eyes amazed:  
Then, Mulai Hamet, then—   King. 
What did he do?  Q. M. 

Attempt to ravish me. His altered Brow  
Wore such fierce Looks, as had more proper been  
To lead an Army with, than Court a Queen.  
And, as a Ravisher, I abhorred him more  
In that black form, than I admired before.  
But whilst my Virtue a Resistance made  
My Shrieks and Cries brought Achmat to my aid:  
Whilst th' Eunuch stood amazed, his Sword he snatced,  
And at one Stroke his wondering Soul dispatched.   Mulai H. 
Oh Horror!  Q. M. 

Then, led by some happy Chance,  
Kind Crimalhaz did to my Aid advance.   Crim. 

But being by my sudden Entrance crossed,  
And all the Hopes of his stolen Pleasures lost,  
My sight did to his sparkling Eyes inspire  
Such Rage, as if his Lust had lent 'em Fire:  
Though Justice in Her Cause did guide my Hand,  
No Sword could his Victorious Arm withstand:  
And when his Weapon through my Hand run,  
Fearing th' Event of what his Rage had done,  
He bore away my Sword, a poor Pretence,  
To turn his Crime upon my Innocence.   Mulai H. 

False and perfidious Traitor! to Crimalhaz.  
Sir, to your Royal Favours add one more, to the King.  
And I'll quit all that I received before:  
To this Adulterer your Leave afford  
To vindicate his Treason by his Sword;  
That Justice, by my Hand, may give him Death,  
And stifle with his Blood his perjured Breath.   King. 

Hold, Sir, if you this rash attempt pursue,  
You'll make me think, that what he says is true.  
This subtle mystery confounds me more  
Than the past horror of the Deed before.   Crim. 

Alas, Sir, He, who has so savage been,  
To dare abuse the Honour of a Queen,  
Esteeming all less Crimes but sportive things,  
Could not want Words t' abuse the Ears of Kings.   Mulai H. 
Bold Villain—  King. 

Hold, your Passions Rage's command;  
You in an injured Monarchs presence stand.   Mulai H. 

Can the Eternal Powers such Treachery  
Permit? You the great Rulers of the Sky,  
Sitting thus patient at so tame a rate,  
In heavens' soft ease are grown effeminate.  
If such loud Crimes your armless Power outface,  
Your pointless Vengeance will your Heaven disgrace.   Q. M. 

Had you my Breast by Honour sought to win,  
Yet Love t' a pious Mother, and a Mourning Queen,  
Had sounded harsh. But grant that Time and Love  
Could from my Bosom my dead Lord remove:  
I to your Passion might so just have been,  
To 've met your Love, but not i'th' shape of Sin.   Mulai H. 

Madam, You may say any thing: Your Sex  
And Birth the vent of my just Passion checks.  
Sir, do but hear—   To the King. Crim. 

You may vouchsafe to hear  
What You may read more plainly, here, and there.   Points to the dead Eunuch and his wounded Arm. King. 

I in this Parley too much time bestow:  
Hearing the Cause, I make the Vengeance slow.  
Guards— Yet I'll hear him—   Mulai H. 

My single Word a vain Defence will make,  
Where so much Witness, and a Mother speak.  
But yet Heaven sees my Innocence; and know  
That I am proud this Shame to undergo.  
Believe me, her intended Ravisher  
Appearing so, I take the Guilt from Her.  
Their false Impeachments do this comfort bring,  
That I may wear that Cloud would shade a King.   King. 

His kind soft Words do but confirm th' Offence;  
Men are near losers for their Breathes expense:  
But still speak kindest when their Falls are near,  
Not out of Generosity, but Fear.  
It is enough She witnessed his Offence;  
Her Virtue scorns to accuse Innocence.  
And since her Blood does run within my Veins,  
By ' instinct I know she all that's base disdains.  
But if I want more Proofs to make it out,  
His Murder and his Wound removes the doubt.  
Mulai Hamet, for this Guilt our Prophet's Breath  
Has in his sacred Laws pronounced your Death.   Q. M. 

His Death! Surprised.  
But hold! The King will then my Cheat descry,  
I wish His Death who tamely see him die. aside.  
O cruel Sir, that killing Breath recall: to the King.  
Our holy Prophet dares not see him fall,  
I'm sure, had he My Eyes. Heaven cannot see  
Such Courage bear so harsh a Destiny.  
The Powers above would shrink at what he felt:  
His Death to Tears their Crystal Orb would melt.  
But—  
If You must act what Mercy can't prevent,  
Inflict— inflict some milder Punishment.   King. 

His Deeds and Service in Morocco's Cause  
May mitigate the rigour of our Laws.  
His Army then I to your charge commend,  
Her Honour's Guardian, and our Loyal Friend. to Crimalhaz.  
Here bind the Traitor, and convey him straight to the Guards.  
To Prison, there to linger out his Fate:  
Till his hard Lodging and his slender Food  
Allay the Fury of his Lustful Blood.   Guards bind Mulai Ham. Q. M. 

Think what Impression on my Breast 'twill make,  
To see his Hands wear Fetters for my sake. In whisper between Mulai Hamet and Queen Mother.   Mulai H. 

Madam, be serious, tell me how so foul  
A Treason gained admission to your Soul.   Q M. 

My Soul! Dull Man, what has my Soul to do  
In such mean Acts as my betraying You?  
Murder and Treason—  
Without the help of Souls, when I think good,  
Such toys I act; as I'm but Flesh and Blood.   Mu. H. 

Let not too high your Scorn of Justice swell:  
Know, Madam on such Crimes there waits a Hell.   Q. M. 

Hell! No, of that I scorn to be afraid:  
I'll send such throngs to the infernal shade,  
Betray, and kill, and damn to that degree,  
I le crowd up Hell, till there's no Room for Me.   King. 

Here, to the Tower that guarded Prisoner send:  
His father Doom from my Commands attend.   Mulai H. 

I for my former state  
My Homage to your Royal Father paid,  
And Monarchs may destroy what Monarchs made:  
For subjects' Glories are but borrowed things,  
Raised by the favourable Smiles of Kings:  
And at their Author's Pleasures should retire,  
And when their Breath renounces 'em expire.  
Should I the Sentence of my Sovereign blame,  
I should be guiltier than They say I am.  
But though your Frowns declare my Fetters just,  
Look to what dangerous Hand your Power you trust.  
Monarchs do nothing ill, unless when they  
By their own Acts of Grace their Lives betray.  
When Favours they too generously afford,  
And in a Treacherous Hand misplace their Sword,  
Their Bounties in their Ruin are employed:  
Kings only by their Virtues are destroyed.   King. 

Your Counsels weakly do my Ears attract;  
You ill reach Virtue which you cannot act.  
Live then, till time this sense of Horror brings,  
What 'tis to ravish Queens, and injure Kings.   Exeunt King and Mulai Hamet severally; Mulai Hamet led out by the Guards. Q. M. 

You see the Fates do their Allegiance know.  
And to my powerful Breath their Conduct ow.  
'Tis pity Monarchs are so scarce—  
Such generous, easy, kind, good natured things,  
That one feigned Tear can rule the Faith of Kings.   Crim. 

So bravely, Madam, your Design succeeds,  
As if the Fates were Vassals to your Deeds.  
That Politician who to Empire climbs,  
With Virtues Dress should beautify his Crimes.  
Our guilded Treason thus like Coral seems;  
Which appears Black within its native Streams:  
But when Disclosed it sees the open Air;  
It changes Colour, and looks Fresh and Fair.   Exeunt.   

Scene the second, the Scene a Prison.  The Scene opens, Mulai Hamet appears bound. Mulai H. 

Disrobed of all at once! what turns more strange  
Can Ages, if an Hour can make such Change?   Enter to him Mariam, with one Attendants, from whom she takes a Sword, and exit Attendant. 
Kind Mariam!  Mar. 

Yes, False Man, the same,  
Till your bold Lust had forfeited that Name.  
The Daughters easy Breast would ill confer  
A Kindness on her Mother's Ravisher.   Mulai H. 

Can Mariam think me guilty too?  
More than my Chains have done your Frowns will do:  
Mariamne's Eyes outvie her Brother's Power.  
I ne'er was miserable till this hour.   Mar. 

Ungrateful! is your Soul so much defaced?  
Have I so ill a too fond Heart misplaced?  
My Rival Mother does my Right remove:  
And in affront to my rejected Love  
Your Scorn to Me you in her Shame make good,  
Forcing her Virtue to profane my Blood.  
But, perjured Man, though you deserve so ill,  
Yet you shall find me Mariam still.  
To my past Favours I will add one more.  
Thus I your Freedom, and your Sword restore▪   Unbinds him, and gives him the Sword. 

Live, and in safety go, and fly that Fate  
Which does th' unhappy Mulai Hamet wait.   Mulai H. 

My Sword and Liberty restored by You,  
To one ungrateful, false and perjured too!  
Ah, Madam, if your Mercy can confer  
Such Bounty on a condemned Ravisher;  
What nobler Favours would your Smiles dispense,  
If Mariam knew my Innocence?   Mar. 

Sir, you mistake my Favours: I have lent  
Your Freedom only as your Banishment:  
That being released, you might Morocco fly,  
Removed at once both from my Heart and Eye.  
For should he stay—  
Something like Pity in his cause would plead,  
Till my faint Anger were in Triumph led. aside.  
Some Rebel Thought my ill-fenced Heart would win,  
And treacherously once more let him in.  
Go, Ravisher, take your offered Liberty:  
And to some barbarous, unknown Desert fly,  
Where Men have nought but Shape that's humane; there,  
Where Virtue looks more ill than Monsters here.  
Converse with wild and lustful Savages:  
Live, and inhabit any Seat— but This.   Points to her Breast. Mulai H. 

Divine, but cruel Princess, to whom Heaven  
Has all its Titles but its Knowledge given.  
Else, like their Powers, you could not want a Sense  
Of Mulai Hamets' injured Innocence.  
Can Murders, Rapes, or any barbarous Deed,  
Madam, from your Adorers Thoughts proceed?  
No, Hell's Commission does not reach so far,  
To touch his Heart, which does your Image wear.   Mar. 
Ah, were this true!  Mulai H. 

Witness the sacred Powers,  
If aught of truth be in a Heart that's yours,  
Then Crimalhaz is false. Your Mother too,  
(If aught that's ill can be allied to you)  
Has spoke what Mulai Hamet durst not think.  
Achmat his Death, and Crimalhaz his Wound,  
Not from My Sword, but from Their Dagger sound.  
The Eunuch's Blood by their own Hand was spilled;  
To work my Ruin, and conceal their Guilt.   Mar. 

A genle Calm my Anger does assuage,  
Creeps coolly o'er my Heart, and chills my Rage.  
Some strange Divine Intelligence is stole  
Into my Breast, and whispers to my Soul, aside.  
Unkind, Suspicious, Cruel, and Unjust;  
That Virtue Love had taught him you may trust.   Mulai H. 

Were I that Savage Ravisher I seem,  
I still might father this imputed Crime:  
This Prison, and Our private Interview,  
Giving me power t'Attempt that force on You.  
How dare you then my Outlawed Virtue trust,  
And lend that freedom which would arm that Lust?  
But did you know how clear my Soul does shine,  
Unclouded, and still pure enough, t'enshrine  
Such a Divinity as yours, you'd free  
Yourself from Doubts, as you from Chains did Me.  
Your Mother's Eyes cannot your Right remove:  
To prove the power of Mariamne's Love,  
Madam, my proffered freedom I refuse:  
Flying Morocco, I your sight should lose;  
And rather than be banished from those Eyes,  
I can all thoughts of Liberty despise:  
For I in Fetters may your Grace implore,  
And make your Pity grant one Visit more.  
If not your Love, yet your Compassion may  
Once more, at least, guide your kind steps this way.  
Gaining your sight, I can my Chains outbrave,  
The Brother's prisoner, but the Sister's slave.   Mar. 

Enough, brave Prince; My Jealousy forgive:  
Virtue ne'er dies, where so much Love does live.  
Heaven cannot but, like Me, think it unjust,  
That so much Virtue should in fetters rust.  
But since of injured Innocence Heaven dares  
Be a spectator, I'll correct the Star's.  
I will redress those Wrongs  
Which their tame patience lets you suffer. Take  
Once more your Freedom for your Princess sake.  
Fly these infected Walls, this barbarous Town,  
Where Virtue mourns under a Tyrant's frown.  
Before, my Rage your Freedom did Command:  
But now accept it from a gentler Hand.  
Kindness and Cruelty one doom decree:  
None ever Punish, and Reward like Me.   Mulai H. 
And must I from my Princess presence fly?  Mar. 
No, stay.  Mulai H. 
Kind Stars!  Mar. 

Yes, in my Memory.  
Absent you shall in my Remembrance reign.  
I'll to your Image dedicate this shrine.   Points to her Breast. Enter King, and young Queen. To the Door. Mulai H. 

Madam, your Brother, when he hears my Sword,  
And Liberty is by your Hand restored,  
May grow incensed to such a high degree,  
To make You share those Frowns which threatened Me.  
And are my thoughts so low, to make you run  
Those Dangers which I by my flight shall shun?   Mar. 

Request does with a Mistress power ill suit.  
Sir, I Command that freedom you dispute.  
And, if his stubborn Faith to a just thought  
Of your wronged Innocence cannot be wrought:  
If his rash passion natures bonds should quit,  
And make him both my Sex, and Birth forget;  
Remember that you wear a Sword, and you  
As you're my Servant, be my Champion too.   Enter to them King, Young Queen, Q. Mother, Crimalhaz, Hametalhaz and Attendants. King. 

His Sword, and freedom by her hand retrived!  
Surely my Eyes and Ears are both deceived.  
How! Rebel, dare you with things Sacred sport,  
Ravish the Mother, and the Daughter Court? to Mulai H.  
Have You your Birth no better understood, to Mariam.  
Than to be Traitor to your own high Blood?  
Since Prisons no restraint o'er Lust can have,  
Why did I not confine him to a Grave?   Mulai H. 

'Tis not long since your Bounty did design  
Not only This, but th'Hand that gave it, mine.   King. 

When I designed That, I designed She should  
Be in a Palace, not a Prison, wooed;  
Not circled in a Chain, but in a Crown:  
Sir, You mistake a Dungeon for a Throne.   Q. M. 

Remember, if your Memory can prove  
So just, t'unravel your own Scenes of Love.  
Unless blessed Lovers, whose desires are Crowned;  
Mounting so high, forget their rising ground.  
These Prison-walls have Echoed to your Sighs,  
Conscious as well of your Amours, as His.  
No fetters can love's lawless power suppress:  
You too have been a Lover in his dress.  
Some Pity than should to their Loves be shown,  
For their so near resemblance of your own.  
She can forgive his Faults, why cannot You?  
If Love can Pardon, why not Honour too?   Mar. 

Knew you his Innocence, you would approve  
Both his just Liberty, and my just Love.  
But, Sir, you know, I'm Sister to a King:  
And in that Name I dare do any thing;  
Make where I please my Heart an Offering.  
Tortures, nor Chains, shall not my Love rebate:  
I'll share his Breast, though I should share his Fate.   King. 

Sister, your noble Pride has made me kind:  
I'll give him that Reward which You designed.  
Your Courteous hand his Freedom did restore;  
And I'll repeat what you pronounced before:  
Be gone, and never see Morocco more.  
At the next morning's light, if the Sun's Eye  
Find you within the City-gates, you die.  
And the Tenth day you lose your Head, if found  
Within the Circuit of my Empires bound.   Mulai H. 

Now I am lost, and all my Hopes dispersed.  
This Monster's villainy has done its worst. to Crimalhaz.  
Inhuman, to your Conscious Soul recall—   Crim. 
The Tortures which it feels to see You fall.  Mulai H. 
No, Traitor.  Crim. 

Traitor, Yes Sir, I should be  
Traitor to Reason and Humanity,  
Should I not grieve for You.   Mulai H. 

Oh cunning Ignorance!  
These Traitors walk like madmen in a Trance:  
Seem not to understand the Crimes they Act.  
But from what springs, do You your Tears extract!   aside, to Q.M. Q. M. 

From springs so deep shall sink Thee down to Hell.  
I shed my Tears, as Rain in Egypt falls,  
Sent for no common cause, but to foretell aside to him.  
Destructions, Ruins, Plagues, and Funerals.  
I ne'er draw Tears, but when those Tears draw Blood.   King. 
My Justice in suspense too long has stood.  Q. M. 

How, Justice? no, your Cruelty. How can  
So harsh a Doom against so Brave a man  
Be Justice? View that Brow, that Charming Eye:  
See there the Grace and Mien of Majesty.  
Can you to Exile then that Man enjoin,  
Whose Soul must, like his Aspect, be Divine?  
Oh Son!   Weeps. King. 

His Sentence is already past;  
And now her Kindness does his Ruin haste.  
Be gone, and fly to some infected Air,  
Where Poisons brood, where men derive their Crimes,  
Their Lusts, their Rapes, and Murders, from their Climes:  
And all the Venom which their Soils do want,  
May the Contagion of your Presence grant.   Mulai H. 

I must obey you, and embrace my Doom  
With the same patience Saints do Martyrdom.  
Only their Suffering a Reward receive;  
They Die to meet that Happiness I leave:  
They Die, that in their deaths they Heaven may find:  
But in my Princess, I leave Mine behind.  
And my hard Exile does this Horror bring,  
I lose the power to serve so good a King:  
So Good, that 'twould as great a Bliss confer  
To Die for You, as 'tis to Live for Her.  
Since in your Kingdoms limits I'm denied  
A seat, may your great Empire spread so wide,  
Till its vast largeness does Reverse my doom;  
And for my Banishment the World wants room.   King. 

I'll hear no more. But for this Audience know  
How much you to my gracious Favour owe.  
His Mercy's great, whose Patience is so strong,  
To give a Traitor leave to Talk thus long.   Exeunt King, and young Queen. Mar. 

Farewell for ever. When you're gone, and all  
Mariam ever Loved, or ever shall.—  
She sees no more; Yet by despair made just,  
Let not our Hearts take leave, though our Eyes must.  
Though you through wild and savage Deserts go,  
No place so barren, but where Love may grow.   Mulai H. 

When to your ears some gentle breath shall bring  
The last Remains of a lost wretched thing,  
That lived as long as he could gaze on You;  
And shined, till that inspiring Light withdrew.  
If Fame vouchsafe words on a wretch so poor;  
When you shall hear I was, but am no more;  
In my Lost seat let my Remembrance stay:  
Give my Name life, though Grief take Mine away.   Exeunt Mulai Hamet and Mariam severally. Crim. 
Fate and our Wishes meet.  Q. M. 

His Exile is not all:  
Our Treasons are not safe but in his Fall.  
He Lives, though he be Banished; and the Great  
Are never fully Darkened, till they Set:  
This Cloud may pass, and He shine out once more;  
But from your hand this favour I implore:  
Pursue him out of Town, and in disguise to Hametal.  
With some dissembling Tale his Ears surprise;  
Till your Confederate-Party has gained time  
To place an Ambuscade, and Murder him.   Hamet. 
Conclude it done.  Q. M. 

And your next step t'a Throne to Crimalhaz.  
Must be, dear Sir, the Murder of my Son.   Crim. 

His Palace—  
And the kind City's love's so strong a Guard,  
Th'Attempt within these Walls appears too hard.   Q M. 

But what that Bars, this Easier way secures:  
His Army, and his Treasures Charge, are yours.  
To Morrow on the Plain before the Wall,  
His Forces you t'a general-muster Call.  
Then their Commander You shall in their Head  
His Army to the Mountain Atlas lead:  
And to secure your Flight, to night by Stealth  
Ransack his Treasury, seize all his Wealth.  
At first Alarm, this will his Courage damp:  
But by such Arts, I his Resolves will sway;  
I'll work him from the Town up to the Camp,  
And safe into your Hands his Life betray.  
But when Your Throne I on His Grave have built,  
Remember Love was Author of my Guilt.   Crim. 

This work, which we so roughly do begin,  
Zeal and Religion may perhaps call Sin.  
No; the more Barbarous garb our Deeds assume,  
We nearer to our First perfection come.  
Since Nature first made Man wild, savage, strong,  
And his Blood hot, then when the world was Young:  
If Infant-times such Rising-valours bore,  
Why should not Riper Ages now do more?  
But whilst our Souls wax Tame, and Spirits Cold,  
We Only show th'unactive World grows Old.   Exeunt Crimalhaz, and Young Queen. Hamet. 

Mulai Hamet Bleeds the next.  
To him, who Climbs by Blood, no tract seems Hard:  
The Sense of Crimes is lost in the Reward:  
Aspirers neither Guilt nor Danger Dread:  
No path so rough Ambition dares not Tread.   Exit.  
Finis Actus Tertii.   

Act the Fourth,  

Scene the First.  Enter King Attended. King. 

HOw! Crimalhaz up to the Mountains fled,  
And with him the Morocco Force's led.  
Oh Rebel!   1. Lord. 

Sir, he only does pursue  
That Treason which you lent him Power to do:  
He was your Treasurer, and has made bold  
To be too strict a Guardian of your Gold.  
All your Crown-Jewels, and your heaps of Wealth,  
He in the Night conveyed away by Stealth.  
And now—  
Encamped on Atlas' skirts, he by your Gold  
Has Raised new Forces, and Confirmed the Old.  
With that he Bribes your Army to his Cause;  
And after him new Trains of Rebels draws.   King. 

Oh Profane Gold, which from infectious Earth,  
From Sulphurous and Contagious Mines takes Birth.  
It grew from Poisons, and has left behind  
Its native Venom to infect Mankind.  
Rapes, Murders, Treasons, what has Gold not Don?  
If it has ever any Glory won,  
Given to Reward a Virtue, or decreed  
T'a Pious use, or Charitable deed;  
That Sacred Powers but borrowed, which it bears,  
Let from their Royal Images it wears.   Enter Queen Mother. 2. Lord. 

I am afraid his Thoughts fly High; his Dreams  
Have little less than Empires for their Themes:   King. 

On what Ill subjects I my Favours cast?  
Him high in Power, and Honours I have placed.  
King's Bounties act like the Sun's Courteous smiles,  
Whose rays produce kind Flowers on fruitful Soils:  
But cast on barren Sands, and baser Earth,  
Only breed Poisons, and give Monsters Birth.   2. Lord. 

Let not too far your Fears your Peace molest:  
Perhaps you've misinterpreted his Breast.  
You know that Crimalház his ' High Command  
Was formerly in Mulai Hamets' hand.  
He who forced Favours both from Fate, and Fame;  
Made War a Sport, and Conquest but a Game.  
And therefore he, perhaps, to Act some Deed  
Which Mulai Hamets' glory may exceed.  
Has for his Mistress from the common Rout  
Of the world's beauties singled Honour out.  
And that which makes him his Designs disguise,  
He'll make his flight of Honour a surprise.   King. 

No, he's a Traitor, and he'll use my Power  
Not to Promote, but to Usurp my Crown.  
Power swollen too High destroys, not guards; as showers,  
Luxurious grown, what they should Cherish, drown.  
Our Swords in Loyal hands may act great Things:  
Be both the Glory and Defence of Kings:  
But when misplaced, those Arms our Ruins be:  
As Mountains bulwarks are at Land, but Rocks at Sea.   Q. M. 

Can you Rebellion fear, or any thing  
Who are my Son, and great Moroccoes' King?  
If he be False, you can't resist your Fate:  
If True, his aim will be to guard your State.  
But grant he would some Traitorous act perform,  
Accept my Counsel to divert the Storm.  
Up to the Mountains straight, and visit Him.  
Your Awful sight may check an ungrown Crime;  
Outface his Treason ere his Rise begin:  
Men Bashful are i'th' nonage of a Sin.   King. 

Madam, your dauntless spirit would breathe fire  
To breasts as cold as Age. I must admire  
Your Courage: but your Innocence mistakes.  
Your Goodness in my Cause weak Judgement makes,  
Your Thoughts can't Reach the flights which Treason takes.   Q. M. 

You've hit my Thoughts: Alas, I am too good,  
Treason's a Thing I never understood.  
But yet I understand what's High and Brave.  
He dares not, Sir, abuse that power You gave.  
For he who saved my Honour, will guard yours:  
That very Argument your Life secures.  
Then trust to Fortune, and my Counsel. Go  
And visit him; but wear no Jealous brow:  
It makes men False to be Suspected so.  
I'll be your Leader.   King. 

When She leads the Way,  
Though it were Death to go, 'twere worse to Stay.  
Madam, I'll go. For Taffaletta's Arms  
In few day's March will reach Moroccoes' Walls.  
If Crimalhaz prove False, at his Alarms  
Mulai Labas by a foreign conqueror falls.  
Staying, I tamely Perish; if I go,  
I face my Ruin, and I Charge my Foe.  
It will more like an act of Courage look,  
To be by Ruin met, than over-took.  
But at my sight perhaps he in my brow  
May something read which his High thoughts may bow.  
Kings that want Arms, do not want Majesty.  
Heaven is still Heaven, though't lays its Thunder by.   Exit with Attendants. Q. M. 

Go easy Fool, and die, and when you Bleed,  
Remember I was Author of the Deed.  
T'enlarge Fates black Records, search but My Soul:  
There ye Infernal Furies read a scroll  
Of Deeds which you want Courage to Invent;  
Of which Hells Legends want a Precedent.    

Scene the Second.  The Scene opened, is presented a Prospect of a Clouded Sky, with a Rain bow. After a shower of Hail, enter from within the Scenes Mulai Hamet and Abdelcador. Abd. 

Such Storms as These, this Climate never knew:  
A Shower of Hails an Object strange and new  
I fear it does Portend some Dire Event,  
That waits upon your Fatal Banishment.   Mulai H. 

My Country, Princess, and my King forsook:  
Storms to my Miseries like attendants look.  
These Tempest's Sir, are to my Sufferings due:  
When my King Frowns, 'tis just that Heaven frown too.  
But why does my dear Confident intent  
In my Misfortunes thus to run my Race?  
Must I in my sad Ruin plunge my Friend?  
As Drowning men sink those whom they Embrace.   Abd. 

Do not my friendships right forbid. With You  
I've been a conqueror, why not Exile too?  
Shall my Esteem grow faint, or my Zeal less,  
Because I view you in a Meaner dress,  
Your outward Pomp laid by, and Honours razed?  
The Saints not less, although the Shrine's defaced.   Enter Mariam with a small Attendance. Mulai H. 
Mariam!  Mar. 

Yes. And she who led by Love,  
Leaves Palaces, and does to Deserts Rove.  
Winged by that zeal united Souls do bear  
Those Stars that smile on Lovers, brought me here.  
I for Your sake my wandering steps engage:  
Devotion is the rise of Pilgrimage.   Mulai H. 

Can Love in Hearts such deep impressions make,  
That you can for your Wretched Vassals sake  
Leave Courts, Pomp, Greatness, and all splended things?   Mar. 

Sir, 'tis the same with Lovers, as with Kings,  
Thus, if a King should with his Train resort  
To a poor Cell, he makes that Cell a Court.  
Oh Sir, the most Illustrious Queen on Earth,  
Would quit the Pageantry of Crowns and Birth:  
And in exchange Mariamnes Exile choose,  
Could she but Love as Mariam does.   Mulai H. 

Oh my kind Princess; King and Court sarewel:  
Where painted Honours, & feigned Glories dwell:  
Lovers when happy made, have Souls that scorn  
Those guilded wreaths which swelling brows Adorn..   Mar. 

Mariam has this glory on her side,  
That kindness you call Love, I call my Pride.  
For of my Constancy—  
Any less trial I disdain to make  
Then show I scorn an Empire for your sake:  
And whosoever does my rash Flight condemn,  
The meaness of their Censures I contemn.  
None of my Actions can fit Judges be,  
But they who've soul enough to Love like Me.  
Lovers alone Love's causes can decide,  
As Nobles only by their Peers are Tried.   Enter to them Hametalhaz disguised in the Habit of a Priest, with Villains in the same Dress. Ham. 

Sir, our great Prophet has pronounced your Fate,  
Your Love is doomed to be Unfortunate.   Mulai H. 

No Sir, 'tis False, thou dost belie his Name:  
Our Prophet is a Lover as I am.   Ham. 
Your Mistress too must your Misfortune find.  Mulai H. 

To her our Prophet cannot be unkind.  
She is a Princess.   Ham. 
No Titles his eternal will confute.  Mulai H. 

She is a Woman, and he scorns to do't.  
Did not thy Garb protect thee— Mahomet  
To wrong her Sex his greatness would forget.   Ham. 
No Sex is from ill destiny debarred.  Mulai H. 

She is a Beauty, and that Name's her guard.  
Good sates as due should be to Beauty given:  
Beauty which decks our Earth, and props his Heaven.  
When Heaven to Beauty is propitious,  
It pays those Favours it but lends to Us.   Ham. 

Oh, do not Sir, their Oracles decry,  
With patience hear the Language of the Sky.  
Heaven when on Earth some Change it does foreshow,  
Does write Above what we must read below.  
This Morning, as our Eyes we upward cast,  
The desert Regions of the Air lay Waste.  
But straight, as if it had some Penance bore,  
A mourning Garb of thick black Couldst it wore.  
But on the Sudden—  
Some airy Demon changed its form, and now  
That which looked black Above looked white below.  
The Clouds dishevelled from their crusted Locks,  
Something like Gems coined out of Crystal Rocks.  
The Ground was with this strange bright Issue spread,  
As if Heaven in affront to Nature had  
Designed some new-found Tillage of its own;  
And on the Earth these unknown Seeds had sown.  
Of these I reached a Grain, which to my sense  
Appeared as cool as Virgin-innocence:  
And like that too (which chiefly I admired)  
It's ravished Whiteness with a Touch expired.  
At the approach of Heat, this candid Rain  
Dissolved to its first Element again.   Mulai H. 

Though showers of Hail Morocco never see,  
Dull Priest, what does all this Portend to me?   Ham. 
It does Portend—  Muly. 
What?  Ham. 
That the Fates— design—  Muly. 
To tire me with Impertinence like thine.  Here a Company of Villains in Ambush from behind the Scenes discharge their Guns at MulyHamet, at which Mulai Hamet starting and turning, Hamettalhaz from under his Priests habit draws a Sword, and passes at Mulai H. which pass is intercepted by Abdelcader. They engage in a very fierce Fight, which the Villains, who also draw and assist Hametalhaz, and go off several ways Fighting; after the discharge of other Guns heard from within, and the Clashing of Swords, Enter again Mulai Hamet, driving in some of the former Villains, which he Kills. Mulai H. 

die Slaves, and may this desert raise a brood  
Of unknown Monsters from your venomed Blood.  
My Princess gone, Fortune and Justice are  
Sure not so Blind, but they of her took Care.   Enter Abdelcader. Abd. 

Your Princess Sir, is from your Arms divorced,  
In her own Chariot to Morocco forced.   Mulai H. 
I'll fetch her back, though—  Abd. 

Hold! With their fair prize, they've took so quick a flight,  
That She is now beyond your reach and sight:  
And the chief Leader of those Villains, was  
The Old Queens Confident, Hametalhaz.  
And all the Story which the Slave did frame,  
Was only to gain time to take his aim.  
They chose that Garb as what might best prevail,  
To gain your Patience, and their Swords Conceal:  
But missing of your Blood, your brave Escape  
Changed his intended Murder to a Rape.   Mulai H. 

Hell and Damnation, these cursed Traitors seize.  
But why against such Barbarous Savages  
Do I in vain these useless Curses name;  
They are such Brutes, that they want Souls to damn?  
No 'gainst myself I should my Curses bend,  
Coward so ill my Princess to defend.   Abd. 

Oh Sir, do not profane your Conquering Sword,  
Their Numbers were too great to be o'repowred.   Mulai H. 

How, Numbers! Abdelcader, you mistake;  
No Sir, where Love and Beauty is at stake,  
True Lovers of their Swords should make such Use,  
As angry Heaven of Threatening Earthquakes does;  
To shake whole Kingdoms, make proud Cities fall,  
Not to o'erthrow one single Criminal.  
Had they been Thousands more, and each man there,  
More Fierce than Lust, more Valiant than Despair,  
I should have Fought till I my Princess freed,  
Though I had waded through the Blood I shed.   Abd. 

Sir, the last words she spoke that reached my Ear,  
Were, that she did your passion's Rashness fear:  
And therefore from me bid you understand,  
'Tis your kind Mariamnes last Command;  
You ne'er should see Morocco more, lest there  
You should enndanger what she prized too dear.   Muly. H. 

And am I banished by my Princess too?  
Fates ye have done all th' ill your Powers could do;  
Great Minds the pride of Prodigals have Learned,  
At loss of Power or Crowns are unconcerned;  
But when they're Misers, 'tis in Love alone,  
Then their Hearts rend to see their Treasure gone.  
Condemned never to see Morocco more!  
Thus am I doomed to quit all I Adore:  
As profane Sinners are from Altars driven,  
Banished the Temple to be banished Heaven.  
Horror and Tortures now my jailors be,  
Who paints Damnation needs but Copy me;  
For if Mankind the pains of Hell e'er knew,  
'tis when they lose a Mistress as I do.   Exeunt.  

Scene the Third, the Scene a Tent.  Enter Queen Mother and young Queen. Queen. M. 

No more, dear Madam, Crimalhaz distrust,  
The Emperor has found him kind, and just.  
His Entertainments, and his Oaths have proved,  
He has not from the paths of Honour moved.  
And to appear extravagantly great,  
He makes a splendid Mask his this nights Treat.   Y. Queen. 

I've been an Actor in such Comic Sport,  
When in my Father Taffaletta's Court.  
He took delight i'th' represented Spoils  
Of Cyrus, Cesar and Aeneas Toils.   Queen. M. 

Has Marriage and a Crown so changed your Will,  
You could not act your youthful Pastimes still?  
Could you your Greatness for one Night persuade  
To lay by Majesty for Masquerade?   Y. Queen. 

I never yet did any thing so ill  
I ought to leave, or good that is not still:  
I seem inconstant if you think me Proud;  
Inconstancy the guilt of th' untaught Crowd.  
Madam, I dare do any thing, to show  
T' a Throne I change of Place, not Passions owe.   Q. Mother. 

I can't suspect a goodness so Divine.  
Well Madam, since you fancy the Design,  
For your Diversion, and your Kings, I'll ask  
This Boon, that you'd in person grace the Mask.  
What Character and Part you shall present,  
We will consult of farther in my Tent.   Exeunt. Enter King and Hametalhas. Scene continueth. King. 
Murdered this Night and sleeping did you say?  Hamet. 
Yes, if for your escape Heaven finds no way.  King. 

My Entertainments since my being here,  
All shows of Loyalty and Friendship bear.  
But does he in that Garb his guilt Disguise  
To take my Life, by such a base Surprise?   Hamet. 

Goodness may in men's very Looks be Tracked;  
But Traitors rarely look like what they Act:  
Nor is this Treason Crimalhaz first Crime:  
Your Father's Blood was sacrificed by Him.   King. 
By Crimalhaz my Royal Father Killed?  Hamet. 
That Poison which your Father drank, He filled.  King, 

Poisoned! How was this Murder hid till now,  
And by what arts was it disclosed by You?   Enter Queen Mother. Q. M. 

That were too long to tell: th' unhappy Son  
This Night too must the Father's Fortune run.   King. 

Is there no Policy, nor Art that may  
Prevent his Treason?   Q. M. 

Yes I've found the Way.  
Accept my Council, to preserve my Son,  
I'll save your Life, your Empress, and your Throne.   King. 
But how?  Q. M. 

To you this Night he does a Mask present,  
A smiling Prologue to his black intent.  
And the intrigue of this Dramatic sport,  
Is Orpheus his descent to Pluto's Court.  
To fetch Furidice from th' infernal shade;  
On this Foundation I've this Structure laid.  
I have in your Name given out—  
To shun the trouble of the formal State,  
Which does upon your Royal Person wait;  
That this night's Pleasure may be freer made  
Yourself and Train will be in Masquerade.  
Your Death being not designed before you sleep,  
Till than you thus will undiscovered keep,  
And that your flight may be more safe and free,  
Yourself, and your fair Queen shall Masquers be:  
You shall act Orpheus, she Furidice.  
When by the Masks design by Hell's Command,  
Furidice is given to Orpheus' Hand,  
You the last entry shall his Shape assume,  
And in dumb show enter in Orpheus' Room.  
Her then you shall lead out, and in that Shape  
Pass through the Guards, and to the Town Escape.   Ham. 

The Watch's Orders are not strict, you may  
Without disturbance at all hours find way.   Q. M. 

And that he may not miss you till you're gone  
Beyond his Reach, I, when the Mask is done,  
Will keep the Revels up, till you're secured  
From his sharp Malice, and his sharper Sword.   King. 
Bravely contrived.  Q. M. 

The Maskers, who already are designed  
To act those Parts, are Mine: and them I'll bind  
To silence: That this safely may be wrought,  
She shall to Mine, You to his Tent be brought.  
They must be kept asunder for our work.   Aside Hamet. 
How many Devils in one Woman lurk!  Aside King. 

Madam in vain your Pity bids me Fly,  
I am in duty bound to stay and Die;  
Knowing how ill your Kindness he'll requite,  
If he should find you Author of my Flight.   Q. M. 

Leave that to Providence: but grant he should—  
He would not sure attempt a Woman's Blood.  
At lest when he considers how 't was done,  
A Mother's Piety to save a Son.   Hamet. 

I'll lead you where you may all eyes escape,  
And privately put on this borrowed shape.   Q. M. 

But in disguise see not one word you say,  
Lest speaking you the Emp'rours' Voice betray.   Enter Young Queen. 
Your Empress here? I must instruct her too.  King. 

I by our Loves conjure you to pursue,  
What her kind Counsel orders to be done; to the Y. Queen.  
To save yourself, a Husband, and a Crown.   Exit K. & Hametal. Y. Q. 
What Task is that so strictly he enjoins?  Q. M. 

This Night the Traitor Crimalhaz designs  
To Ravish You; and when that fact is done,  
To kill your Husband and possess his Throne.   Y. Q 
Oh my Amazement!  Q. M. 

Being informed what Part  
You act, by his accursed Lust enraged,  
He with the Masker subtly has engaged,  
His shape in the last entry to assume,  
And seize you in the supposed Orpheus' room.  
Then will he rudely snatch you from the place,  
And basely force You to his foul Embrace.  
And at that instant, Your dear Lord shall Bleed  
By Murderers appointed for the Deed.  
Whilst with the noise of Drums, and Trumpets sound,  
Your Outcries, and his Dying Groans are drowned.   Y. Q. 

Inhuman Monster! such a bloody Fact  
No mortal sure can Think, much less dares Act.   Q. M. 

'Tis but too true: But since—  
No other force this Treason can withstand;  
It is Your Husband, and your King's command,  
When the bold Ravisher seizes You, to take  
This brave resolve for your fair Virtue's sake;  
Where both your Honour, and his life's at stake.  
In your Defence t' act your own Champion's part,  
With your drawn Dagger stab him to the Heart.   Y. Q. 

Could Fate—  
This Office on no hand but mine confer?  
A Queen, a Traitors Executioner.   Q. M. 

You have no leisure to dispute the deed:  
You must resolve with Courage, and with speed.   Y. Q. 

I'll do't. And though it misbecomes my Hand;  
Yet at my Virtues, and my King's command,  
Through all my Veins I feel a manly heat:  
And this Heroic act looks brave and Great.  
Methinks I hear loud Fame already sing,  
She nobly saved her Honour, and her King.   Q. M. 

Fame in this Deed our Sex will higher prize,  
Proving our Arms Victorious, as our Eyes.   Y. Q. 

Yes Ravisher, meet your intended Prey;  
Meet her, but meet your Death too way.  
To strike my Dagger home—  
Love and Obedience shall that strength supply,  
Which Nature does t' a female Arm deny.   Exit Q. M. 

Let those, whom pious Conscience awes, forbear,  
And stop at crimes because they Vengeance fear.  
My deeds above their reach, and power aspire:  
My Bosom holds more Rage, than all Hell Fire,   Exit 

The Mask.  
 
The Scene opened; is presented a Hell, in which Pluto, Proserpina, and other Women-Spirits appeared seated, attended by Furies; the Stage being filled on each side with Crimalhaz, Hamet, Q. Mother, and all the Court in Masquerade: After soft Music Enter Orpheus.  Orpheus Sings. 

The groans of Ghosts and Sighs of Souls,  
Infernal Echoes and the Howls,  
Of Tortured Spirits cease:  
A gentle Gust  
Has all things Hushed;  
And Hell in spite of Vengeance is at Peace:  
Whilst Ravished by my warbling Strings,  
The Vultures moult their Wings;  
The Furies from their Heads will shake  
Each useless Snake;  
The Scorpions lose their Stings,  
And Hell itself forget their Tyrant Kings.   Pluto Sings. 

Whence Mortal does thy Courage grow,  
To dare to take a Walk so Low?   Orpheus Sings. 

To Tell thee God, thou art a Ravisher.  
No Tears nor Prayer  
Your unresisted Will Controls,  
Who Commit force on Virtue, Rapes on Souls.   Pluto Sings. 

Dares a weak Animal of Mortal Race,  
Affront a God t' his Face;  
And of a Crime Impeach a Deity?  
Thy Breath has Damned Thee, thou shalt Diego  
For your God and Honour's sakes,  
Unloose your twisted crests of snakes:  
Into his Breast those swift Tormentors fling,  
And his tortured Entrails Sting.   Proserpina Sings. 

Oh Sir, his fatal Doom recall,  
Dispel your furious Anger;  
Let not such noble worth your Victim fall:  
Be kind both to a Lover and a Stranger.   Attendant Sings. 

Oh Pardon, Pardon what his height of Love discovers,  
Rage is a venial Sin in Lovers.   Proserpina Sings. 

Then gentle Stranger tell;  
What Fortune has befell,  
That brings a Lover down to Hell?   Orpheus Sings. 

I have a Mistress in your Sphere,  
Forced from my Arms  
By deaths Alarms:  
My Martyred Saint brings me a Pilgrim here,  
My fair Eurdice my fair Eurdice.   Proserpina Sings. 

Unhappy Wanderer which is she? Oh which is she?   Orpheus Sings. 

If a gentle Ghost you hear,  
Complaining to the Winds, and sighing to the Air;  
Breathing an unregarded Prayer:  
If She in faint and murmuring Whispers Cry,  
Orpheus, Orpheus, Oh I Die,  
Snatched from Heaven and thee,  
Oh that is She.  
Oh take me down to Her or send Her back to me.   Pluto Sings. 

Shall Lovers Idle Prayers disturb my Ear?  
Mortal we'v'e serious business here.  
Your tiresome Story pleads in vain;  
Be gone.   Proserpina Sings. 

But with thee thy fair Treasure take,  
Released by Love from that Eternal Chain,  
Which destined Kings and Conquerors cannot break.   Pluto Sings. 

No, fond Man, no, who comes within my Power,  
From Death and Hell returns no more.   Proserpina Sings. 

If Hell's strict Laws have never alt'red been,  
Let us be kind and now begin.  
Revoke her angry Doom,  
That when on Earth they come;  
To th' wondering World he in soft Airs may tell,  
Mercy as well as Justice Rules in Hell.   Pluto Sings. 

Your love does with Success implore:  
Conduct Her in, but in such State,  
As fits the Court of Fate;  
And to his Hand the fairest Guest restore,  
That Ever Landed on the Stygian Shore.   Proserpina Exit, and Reenters with the young Queen Dressed for Eurydice Orpheus. 

For this signal Grace to the World I'll declare,  
In Heaven Earth and Hell Loves Power is the Same.  
No Law there nor here, no God so Severe,  
But Love can Repeal, and Beauty can Tame.   Chorus. 

For This Signal Grace to the World I'll declare.  
In Heaven etc.   Here a Dance is performed, by several infernal Spirits, who ascend from under the Stage; the Dance ended, the King Offers to snatch the Young Queen from the Company, who instantly draws her Dagger, and stabs him. Y. Q. 
Take that Ravisher.  stabs Him. Q. M. 
Hold.  King. 
By my Morenas hand!  undisguising himself. Y. Q. 
Mulai Labas!  Faints away, and falls into the hands of some Women; who run in to her Assistance. Here all the Masquers undisguise, and run in to the King's assistance. Q. M. 
My Son killed by Her hand!  Crim. 

Call my Physicians. Bid my Guards appear.  
The Emperor Stabbed, the Queen his Murderer!   King. 

Have I for this a too fair Saint admired?  
And with a more than common Love inspired,  
Raised my bold Thoughts so high t'engross your Charms;  
And bounded my Ambition in your Arms?  
And must I die as deposed Angels fell;  
'Cause they aspired, and loved their Heaven too well?  
My death Morena a less pain will be,  
Than 'tis to think I owe my death to Thee.  
Have I less kindness from your Hands than Eyes,  
For they have given me gentler wounds than these?  
Your hand, 'tis true, has your Adorer Ki'ld.  
'T has reached his Heart, but not the Love it held.  
Your Image cannot from my Soul retire;  
My love's Immortal though my Life expire.   Dies. Here the Young Queen being revived before the last words of the King, turns and kneels to him. Y. Q. 

Oh my dear Lord! Stay gentle soul! Oh stay!  
Rude Death stand off: his life's too great a Prey!  
But Oh he's gone.—  
His ravished Soul is mounting to the Skies:  
But I'll send mine t' o'retake it as it flies.   Offers to stab herself, but is detained by Crimalhaz; and the Dagger snatched from her. Y. Q. 

Why does your cruelty my hand debar,  
From being a Traitor's Executioner?  
Good, Gentle, Kind, give me the Dagger back;  
For mine— for His— For Heaven— and Justice sake.  
Cannot my Tears and Prayers your heart o'ercome?  
If my Request appear too burdensome,  
Grant but this one— that pointed Steel restore,  
And I'll not live to ask you any more.   Q. M. 

Oh cruel Queen, What has your fury done?  
That made You lose a Husband, me a Son;  
This Realm a King, the World a Virtue, grown  
Too fit for Heaven, but not to go so soon.   Y. Q. 

Mother it does a much less wonder seem,  
That I've killed him, than that you blame the Crime.  
Was it not You that armed me to this guilt,  
Told me I should a Ravishers blood have split?  
No 'twas by your design my Husband fell;  
You in this Masque have overacted Hell.   Q. M. 

Alas! she Raves. See how her rage begins,  
But madness always ushers in great Sins.  
This is no News to that which she has done;  
She was distracted ere the Masque begun.  
Alone I saw her in a posture set,  
As if she thought of something High— and Great—  
Strayed with a more than common rage inflamed,  
She moved— stared— walked— stormed— raged— cursed— raved & damned.  
With a distorted look she tore her hair—  
Unsheathed her Dagger— and gave Wounds to th'Air—  
Her face discoloured grew to a deep red,  
As if her looks presaged that blood she shed.  
Then with an infant Rage, more soft, and mild,  
She pla●…d with madness, leapt, sung, danced, and smiled.  
Why did not Heaven this Mystery unfold?—  
Her frantic Rage, his Death too plain foretold.  
Had I foreknown you did this blow design:  
To strike his Heart, you should have pierced through mine.   Y. Q. 

Think you there is a God, or have a Soul,  
That on my score dare such false crimes enrol?  
ist not enough that my dear Lord I flew,  
But must be Actor and Designer too?  
No, barbarous stepmother, 'twas you alone  
Guided that hand, that killed your King, and Son.   Q. M. 

Observe how idly her wild fancies walk,  
But she who acts so ill, as ill may talk.  
Who'd think a thing so young, so soft, and Fair,  
Could be so kind a Husband's Murderer?  
But see when Heaven commands its gifts away,  
The Wits and Senses lost, the Soul may stray.   Y. Q. 

Oh perjured Woman, how can you invent  
This feigned disguise to appear innocent?   Q. M. 

'Tis pity Fate such Beauty should misplace,  
So stained a Heart, and yet so fair a Face.   Y. Q. 

Impostor, speak (if Conscience have a Seat,  
In Traitor's breasts.) was it not You whose Cheat,  
And Cunning did my fatal hand engage,  
At once t' a Murder, and a Sacrilege?  
To kill my King, and rob mankind of more  
Virtue, than ere dwelled in one Breast before.   Q. M. 

Divert thy Frenzy Child, some other way.  
Oh, my dear Daughter, try if you can Pray.   Y. Q. 

How she disowns that blood which she has spilled!  
Treason with her is but a modest guilt.   Q. M. 

Our presence will but raise her Passion higher,  
T'allay her frantic Rage, let us retire.  
But of your Queen see that strict care you keep,  
Wait her to her repose, try if she'd Sleep.  
Sleeping, some Angel may be kind,  
And in a Dream t'her thoughts her guilt present,  
That when this fit is o'er she may Repent.   Here the Attendants carry off the King, over whom the Young Queen Weeps. Y. Q. 

heavens' since from You the power of Monarch's springs,  
Sure you were bound t'have had more care of Kings.   Exeunt all but Q. Mother, Crimalhaz and Hametalhaz. Q. M. 

Now in her Death we must some way invent,  
That of his blood we may seem Innocent.  
First let her Face with some deep poisonous Paint,  
Discoloured to a horrid black be stained.  
Then say 'twas as a mark of Vengeance given,  
That she was blasted by the hand of Heaven.  
And as a public Spectacle exposed,  
Let her be in a burning pile enclosed.  
And whilst the clouded Air reeks with the smoke,  
Hire a magician by his art t' invoke  
A Train of Devils, who in dreadful forms,  
Waited by Earthquakes, Thunder, Winds, and Storms,  
Shall rove i'th' Air, and with loud echoes howl;  
As if they watched to seize her flying Soul.  
Thus will men think, 'twas only she that framed  
This Treason, and that for the deed she's Damned.   Crim. 

Bring back the Queen— ere I see Justice done,  
I with Morena will converse alone.   Enter Guards leading in the Young Queen. 

Great Empress stay, and hear my Story too,  
How much I for an injured Queen dare do.   Discourses in whisper with the Queen. Ham. 

The emperors acting of the Masquers part,  
His Murder, and the management, your Art;  
And her feigned madness to our wish succeed.   Q. M. 

And more than this to have secured the Deed,  
Had not Her hand struck home to back her Crime,  
The Surgeons I had bribed to poison him.  
'Tis not the blood of Sons nor Monarchs, shakes  
Those resolutions which my Courage takes.  
O'er Fear and Virtue too, I have this odds:  
My will my King, my Pleasures are my Gods.   Exeunt Q. M. & Ham. Manent Crimalhaz & Y. Queen, Crim. 

Since I'm a Monarch's Heir, may I not own,  
An equal Title in his Love as Throne?  
If you'll accept so mean an Offering,  
You shall not want a Lover nor a King.  
My kindness shall supply—   Y. Q. 

Hold Do you mean,  
This offered service to an injured Queen?  
How Sir? is my dead King so far removed,  
That I am past remembrance that I loved?  
Admit new Courtships, and with the same Eye,  
Behold a murdered Sovereign's Ghost stand by.  
I thought your proffered kindness had been this,  
t'o've sentenced me to mix my blood with his.  
t'o've told me I should Die, and dying have  
The Happiness of sleeping in His Grave.   Crim. 

Death is guilts due. Yours is a gentler Doom;  
You may enjoy my Throne, but not his Tomb.  
I know your Innocence and Virtue. You  
This fatal Deed from some false Copy drew.  
And I begin to think your Mother's Heart,  
Has Poison in't, whatever her looks impart.  
But to revenge a Murdered King, I'll sound  
This Treason, till the utmost Depth be found:  
And to such pains the Authors I'll condemn,  
That to the World I'll your lost Fame redeem.   Y. Q. 

A King's Revenge so brave an act will be,  
That you'll at once Oblige both Heaven and Me.  
And his blessed Spirit in the Skies must owe,  
A Debt, which he has left unpaid below.   Crim. 

That trifling score one smile from you will quit.  
And sure you are so kind to pay his Debt.   Y. Q. 
My Thanks are granted ere your Suit is heard.  Crim. 
I must have more than Thanks for a reward.  Y. Q. 
The Glory of the deed requites the pains.  Crim. 
But Glory only in your Favour Reigns.  Y. Q. 
That Breath I cannot, must not understand.  Crim. 
Love needs but little art to be explained.  Y. Q. 

Love! stop that barbarous Breath. In a new Love,  
I stab his Image, and profane his Dust.   Crim. 
But not to love your Champion is unjust.  Y. Q. 
Your Service I accept, your Love take back.  Crim. 

None hate the giver who the present take.  
Why can't your Heart—   Y. Q. 

— Why can't your Arm revenge  
A King, without my Heart paid in exchange?  
Know though you basely trade with Loyalty,  
My Love my King's revenge does over-buy.  
Go, Mercenary man, I will resign  
His Vengeance to the hand of Heaven, not thine.   Crim. 

Let such harsh words be by tame Lovers borne,  
My Passion is too rough to bear your scorn   Y. Q. 

And must my Heart at such a price be sold?  
Thy Seat Usurped before thy Blood is cold?  
This was thy Right, and though thy Death I gave,  
Who loved the Martyr will the Relics save.  
My Heart by none but thee was ever won.  
I'll guard the Trophy, though the Conqu'rour's gone. Aside  
But stay— This Grant is to revenge thy Blood,  
And on that score no Offering too good.  
I should scorn Love, Life, Honour, Empires,— all  
To strike their Heads whose Treason wrought thy fall. Can you on no less terms my King revenge?   Crim. 

No second Thoughts my Resolution change.  
Since all I act is only for your sake,  
Love must accept those offers Love does make.   Y. Q. 

Well Sir, my Heart is won. Your Siege remove,  
I condescend to any thing— but Love. Retreating from him.  
Resign that Heart that's His—  
heavens', shall I live to act so great a Sin!  
To right a Monarch must I damn a Queen?  
Be gone! I hate thee now worse than before.  
Descend to thee? No, I that Thought abhor.  
And though his Blood does loud for Vengeance call;  
I know hee'd scorn his Queen so low should fall.  
Though I have lost a King, I'm not so poor;  
The Temple razed, the Ruins I'll adore.   Crim. 

My Love's too fierce long Seiges to attend:  
You've lost a Servant, and your King a Friend.   offers to go. Y. Q. 

Stay— No, be gone I scorn thee— Yet Sir stay,  
Hopes of Revenge so much my passions sway;  
That what would I not do for Justice sake.  
Where the assaults so strong, here Conqueror take—   Gives her hand Crim. 
Oh my best hopes—  Kisses her Hand. Y. Q. 

My— friendship— give my Love!—  
My Love my Sovereigns Right I rate above  
The Ransom of a world; and if thy hand  
Does not perform what his loud wrongs demand;  
Thou art his Murderer.   Crim. 

But when you see that murderer wear his Crown,  
You shall too late repent your haughty Frown.   Offers to go. Y. Q. 

Hold, ere the pleasures of Revenge I'll want,  
Invader, here what e'er you ask I'll grant.   Crim. 
Oh Charming Excellence!  Y. Q. 

But Sir.  
Loving too soon, I shall convince the Faith  
Of Men, that I designed my husband's Death.   Crim. 

'Tis true, some marks of sorrow should be worn  
To please the World; I'll give you time to mourn.   Y. Q. 

When you've appeased his Ghost, and th' angry Powers  
Above; and to his sacred Memory  
My last debt's paid, all that I am is yours.   Crim. 

My Vow's the same. First to Revenge I'll fly,  
With Traitors Blood I'll entertain your Eye.  
e'er you're my Queen, and wear a second Crown,  
I'll build a Scaffold first, and then a Throne.   Exit Y. Q. 

I've found the way. Oh my dear Lord, though now  
Death does embrace what to my Arms is due;  
I'll keep—  
My Vow to Him, and Love to Thee Entire.  
No second King shall to this Throne aspire. Points to her Breast.  
To Thee my last Debts payment shall be this,  
I'll die— and dead all that I am is His.  
In thy Revenge when I've Triumphant stood,  
On Traitor's necks amidst a Scene of Blood;  
Morena's hand shall wash the stain She wears;  
As Condemned men turn Executioners.  
To expiate thy blood I'll let out mine,  
And triumph in my fall, who mourn for thine.  
Then with a gentle gale of dying sighs,  
I'll breathe my flying Soul into the Skies.  
Winged by my Love I will my passage steer,  
Nor can I miss my way when You shine there.   Exit.    

The Fifth Act.  
Enter Crimalhaz attended as King. Crim. 

THough on the Blood of Kings my Throne I've built,  
The World my Glory sees, but not my Guilt.  
Mysterious Majesty best fits a Throne.  
They Virtuous seem whose Vices are unknown.  
Men have adored and have made Offerings  
To unknown Gods, why not to unknown Kings.   Enter Ham. Ham. 

Your Guards are set, your forces on the Walls,  
And in the Streets are ranked in fighting forms;  
Expecting when the martial Summon calls,  
And Taffaletta this proud City storms.  
For our last Scouts which newly are come in,  
Tell us th' assault will in few hours begin.   Crim. 

I thank him for this War he has begun,  
The number of my Foes enhance my Crown.  
It does a worth on Kings as Beauties set,  
To have our Rivals numerous and Great.—  
But is th'imprisoned Princess, whom your Sword  
Ravished from Mulai Hamets' hand, secured  
From the World's knowledge—   Ham. 

Royal Sir I have—  
The pride to be her Jailor— and her Slave.   Aside. Crim. 

Mulai Hamet and Mariam are the last  
Of the Imperial Race, that have not passed  
To th' other World, to make me room in this.  
But though your hand did of his murder miss:  
Howe'er his exile has restrained his Power:  
And her I have concealed within the Tower.  
But should she be discovered, and I found  
Her Jailor, her restraint would horrid sound,  
I am not safe then till I see her Dead,  
You therefore shall present me with her Head.   Aside. Ham. 

Mariamnes Head presented by my Hand!  
I'd first strike his that gives me that Command.  
For since that Beauteous Prisoner was my charge,  
Her charming Image did my Soul enlarge.  
At the approach of so Divine a Guest,  
I've shook my late familiars from my Breast;  
The thoughts of Mischiefs, Villainy and Blood;  
By her fair Eyes inspired I dare be good.   Exit. Enter Queen Mother. Q. M. 

Though your Designs have met so great Success,  
Do not forget I was your Patroness;  
And she to whom you made this solemn Vow, to Crim.  
That I should share that Throne I raised you to.   Crim. 

The highest Seat in all but Monarch's Breasts  
Should be by th'high'st of Passions, Love, Possessed.  
But Kings in so sublime a Region Move:  
They have Concerns that must take place of Love.  
My Subjects call for Vengeance, and I must  
To the dead King before my Love be Just.  
Then give me leave to prosecute his Death,  
First wear the Cypress, than the Myrtle Wreath.   Q. M. 

Bring in the Queen—  
If She delay our Love,  
Let out her Blood and those weak Bars Remove.   Enter Guards bringing in the Young Queen. 

Mulai Labas his Queen and Murderer,  
To Expiate his Death you are Summoned here.  
To prove how much the World by you has lost,  
And what Atonement's due t' a Monarch's Ghost.   Y. Q. 

Yes Madam, when great Princes Die, I'd have  
Their Majesty kept up beyond the Grave.  
Such streams of Blood should for their Murders pay;  
Their Ghosts should have a Train as great as they.   Q. M. 

See Sir she begs her Death as a Reward:  
Use Charity, do not her Bliss retard.   to Crimal. aside Crim. 

In Common Murders Blood for Blood may pay:  
But when a Martyred Monarch dies, we may  
His Murderers Condemn; But that's not all:  
A Vengeance hangs o'er Nations where they Fall.   Q. M. 

No Tedious Introductions to her Death:  
Good Sir make haste, more business and less Breath.   Crim. 

Who wears his Crown can best defend his Cause.  
I'll on his Murderer Execute such Laws,  
The Rigour of my Justice shall declare,  
How high I rate that Majesty I wear—   Q. M. 

No Prologues to her Death, let it be done;  
I could have killed ten Queens while you are judge One.   Crim. 
Therefore to prosecute his Death—  Q. M. 
Speak Home.  Crim. 
I on his Murderer must Pronounce a Doom—  Q. M. 
No Mercy, be Severe.  Crim. 

— As may Express,  
I can't do more, nor can his Blood ask less.  
Guards, I on You that Office do Confer,  
Obey my Orders, seize This Murderer. Here the Guards seize the Q. M.  
Thy poisoned Husband, and thy murdered Son;  
This injured Empress, and Moroccoes' Throne,  
Which thy accursed Hand so oft has shook,  
Deserves—  
A blow more Fierce than Justice ever struck.   Q. M. Q. M. 
Inhuman Villain, Monster, Devil—  Struggling in the Guards. Crim. 

Silence her Fury, Stop her poisoned Breath;  
And check her growing outrage by her Death.  
But since to Me you've been so kind t' impart,  
Some Favours, and a Title in your Heart:  
In Gratitude and Honour, you shall have  
This Mercy, to walk gently to your Grave.  
Bid my Physicians a strong Draught prepare,  
And leave her Execution to their Care.   Q. M. 
Ungrateful Slave!  Crim. 

Go— I'll not hear her Plead,  
No Arguments shall save a Traitors Head.  
All his Revenge demanded, I have done; to the Y. Queen.  
Perform your Vow, accept my Love and Throne.   Q. M. 

Hold Sir— I ask not Life; such acts of Grace  
Your Bounty may on little Sinners pass.  
My Sins are but too Capital,— My Son,  
And Poisoned Husband— What have I not done?  
So many Treasons and such bloody Rage,  
Would sink an Empire and defame an Age.  
No sound but Death's harsh Name, my Soul could Daunt:  
Now all my Sins my frighted Conscience Haunt.  
Guilt only thus to guilty Minds appears:  
As Sirens do to drowning Mariners:  
Seen only by their Eyes whose Deaths are Nigh.  
We rarely see our Crimes before we Die.  
And now they 're seen, I'm with such Horror struck;  
They seem so large, I dare not Upwards look.  
Where's all my Confidence, and Courage driven?  
Guilt ne'er grows bashful till it thinks of Heaven.  
Though I want Power to ask for Mercy there,  
I will look down, and beg my Pardon here. Kneels to the Y. Q.  
Fair Innocence, I for your Pardon sue,  
T' a condemned Traitor, but a Mother too:  
Let her repenting Sighs her Griefs impart;  
Who thus— Offers her Tears— and thus— thy Heart.   Stabs the Young Queen. 

Die Rival— and Die Traitor— Runs to stab Crimalhaz, but being stopped by the Guards stabs herself.  
— Then Die Thou.   Crim. 
Morena Killed!  Q. M. 

Yes Sir, and I'd have done the same for You.  
But since my Dagger has so feebly done,  
Missing thy Breast I've sent it to my own.  
If some kind Devil had but took my part,  
I'had pierced thy Bosom, as I've done thy Heart▪  
Curse on weak Nature which my Rage unmanned,  
A Masculine heart linked with a Female Hand.  
My Stars had been more just had they designed  
Me less of Hell, or less of Womankind.   Y. Q. 

T'express my Gratitude, thus low I Bow: to the Q. M.  
Murder was ne'er an act of Grace till now.  
Your Courteous Arm retrived mine from a Guilt,  
Morenas Hand, Morenas Blood had spilled;  
Had not that stroke more kindly been decreed.  
You ne'er did act a Mother, till this Deed:  
Here— I perform my Vow— To Crimalhaz giving him her Hand.  
When I've resigned,  
My Soul to Him— take— all I leave behind.  
Thy death, Dear Saint; revenged, and mine so near,  
Such charming objects to my Thoughts appear:  
In hopes I shall meet Thee, my Joys so high,  
Methinks I visit Heaven, before I die.  
My mourning Soul durst ne'er one thought incline,  
To sense of Joy, till it drew nigh to Thine.  
Heaven's Blisses are a prize Love only Wins,  
Where my Life ends my happiness Begins.   Dies. Q. M. 

Is this your Thanks for all her Love has done!  
Who staked her Soul, to raise Thee to a Throne.  
Durst you Perfidious Villain, with one Breath,  
Pronounce Her Coronation and my Death?  
But I've removed that Rival: Thanks to Me;  
Her wandering Soul is mounted to a Cloud,  
But you may Court her still— in Heaven— if she  
Can hear so far, and you can talk so loud.   Crim. 

Though against Me your Rage had just pretence;  
Yet how durst you assault such Innocence?   Q. M. 

Let single Murders, Common Hands Suffice:  
I Scorn to kill less than whole Families.  
In all my Race, I nothing find that's ill;  
But that I've Barren been; and wanted still  
More Monarchs to dethrone, more Sons to Kill.  
My Actions are scarce worth the Memory,  
And I am yet too Innocent to Die.  
Had but my Hand performed thy Murder too,  
I should meet Death with smiles upon my Brow.  
But Oh my Spirit's Faint— yet I have Breath,  
Enough to make a Prayer before my Death.  
If there be such a place as yields abodes,  
To Souls that scorn the company of Gods:  
May I in Hell hell's greatest Torments bear,  
Provided 'tis thy Doom to meet me there.   Dies Crim. 

Infection stick upon thy blasted name,  
Thou Foil to Monsters and thy Sex's shame. to Q. M.  
But here my Heart to Pity does Incline: to Y. Queen.  
Till now I smiled at blood, but sigh for Thine.  
Virtue farewell, I could bewail thy Fate—  
But 'tis a Coward's Crime to grieve too late.  
Fury's the Mourning garb great Spirits wear,  
From this day for thy sake no Lives I'll spare.  
I will send thousand to attend thy shade,  
Lust made me King, Love has a Tyrant made.  
Remove those breathless objects, those dumb shows  
Of Majesty; now I'll for deeds prepare:  
This morning must begin and end a War.  
Kind Taffalet does for my presence Call,  
I am invited to his Funeral.  
The little Champion with impatience waits,  
To beg a Tomb before Morocco's Gates.  
And rather than his lingering Fate delay,  
I'll with my Army take a walk that way.  
His heat of blood, and lust of Crowns shall cease;  
Lashed to a Calm and cooled into a Peace.   Enter Hametalhaz in haste, a sound of Trumpets heard from within. Ham 

Your Army's routed ere the War's begun,  
The City taken, and your Empire won.  
And this surprising Conquest is not gained,  
By Taffalets but Mulai Hamets' Hand.   Crim. 
Mulai Hamet from his banishment returned!  Ham. 

Yes, at the News of th' Emperor's Death Concerned;  
That his great Master was by you betrayed:  
He came to Taffalet, and frankly made  
A proffer of his Sword: which brave demand  
Was by the generous King thus Entertained.  
Welcome brave Friend; Mulai Hamet was ne'er taught  
To back, but head those Armies where he fought.  
That Fame and Glory then which waits on thee,  
Shall ne'er be lessened when you Fight for me.  
With me, brave Youth, thou shalt my Forces lead,  
And fight my Equal in my Army's head:  
When to your startled squadrons he appears  
Taffalets General, who late was theirs.  
Their former love renewed, such Changes wrought,  
That they forgot the Cause in which they Fought.  
A sudden Clamour Echoed through the Throng,  
Which Mulai Hamet, Mulai Hamet, Rung.  
By their own hands the Gates were straight pulled down,  
And he in Triumph marched into the Town.  
They paid to him what to their King they owe;  
And proudly now aloud proclaim him so.   Crim. 

Draw up my Forces, Rouse my Guard, I'll try,  
Who's the successful Rebel, he, or I.  
I'll write my Vengeance in whole streams of Blood,  
Fortune take your free Choice, be ill or good;  
I dare your Worst:—  
Yet I deserve to be your Favourite.  
Tyrant's are kind, to those they cannot Fright.   Exeunt. Enter Mulai Hamet, and Attendants with drawn Swords, after a sound of Trumpets. Mulai H. 

My Cause subdues more than my Sword, the Town  
Does at my Feet their prostrate Arms lay down.  
Conquest sounds best, and Glory brightest shines,  
Where Loyalty, not Force, the Laurel wins.  
Lead to the Palace, through the Guards I'll break,  
And to th'Usurper I'll in Thunder speak.  
To the infernal Shades I'll send a Ghost,  
Stained with more Sins than all their Hell can boast.  
His Blood, dear Prince, shall pay for shedding thine.  
No Cause so just, no Rage so fierce as mine;  
Where Loyalty and Love the fuel bring,  
A Ravished Mistress and a Murdered King.   Exeunt. The Trumpets continue Sounding, and dashing of Swords is heard from within. Enter Crimalhaz, Hametalhaz, and Attendants, with drawn Swords, as pursued. Crim. 

And Mulai Hamet Fighting in their Head.  
Ham. Fly quickly, Sir, see where your Guards lie Dead.  
The furious Mulai Hamet leads 'em on,  
Whose Fortune, and whose Sword has Wonders done.  
Your Guards hewed down, He by no Force withstood;  
Comes now this way to sacrifice your Blood:  
He with such Fears your shaking Palace fills,  
That with the Horror that he brings he Kills.   Crim. 

In this long Story, all I can descry,  
Is, my Crown's going, and my Death draws nigh.  
No, 'tis no common Thunder strikes me Dead:  
I've a Retreat yet left to save my Head. Trumpets sounding.  
I by this Hand my sinking Throne will stay,  
And reign to Morrow, though I fly to day.   Exeunt. 

The Scene Changes.  Enter Mulai Hamet and Abdelcador Attended. Abdel. 

Kind Taffalet—  
Concerned to owe this Conquest to the Charms  
Of your Victorious Presence, not his Arms:  
Scorning to wear that which his Arms ne'er Won,  
Frankly Surrenders you Morocco's Crown.   Mulai H. 

Well generous Prince, this offered Crown—  
With Thanks and Envy shall Accepted be;  
I'll be a Monarch to act deeds like Thee.   Here Mariam appears from the Balcone above. 

My Princess, the bright Charms those Eyes convey,  
Complete th'imperfect Triumphs of this Day:  
It does a larger Happiness afford,  
To have a Mistress, than a Crown Restored.  
Here at your Feet, kind Providence has thrown  
Your banished Lover, and your Ravished Crown.  
Your influence, and my Arms so happy proved;  
Th'usurpers sceptre's to your Hand removed:  
His blood, when he his forfeit Head dares show,  
Shall pay what to your Brother's Dust I owe.   Enter to her Crimalhaz into the Balcone. Mar. 
My Jailor here.——  Crim. 

Though I am fallen so low:  
My fortune lost, I may a Beggar grow.  
This Mercy does on generous Spirits wait,  
You always pity the Unfortunate—  
And on that score I'll beg one modest boon;  
I'll only ask you to restore my Crown.   Mulai H. 
Thanks Heaven, the only man whose Head I want.  Crim. 

Do not thank Heaven, for what It cannot grant.  
My Head, fond man, is for thy reach too high;  
I from this Castle thy weak arms defy.  
Immured within the walls of this strong Tower,  
I am so safely Guarded from thy Power;  
That I dare tell you, yes and boldly too,  
This Head you threaten shall be Crowned by you.   Muly. H. 
What means this Impudence—  Crim. 

To end the Strife—  
I ask a Crown a Ransom for her Life.   Draws and points his Sword at Mariamnes Breast. Muly. H. 

Here I my baffled hopes of Vengeance lose:  
To right my King my Mistress I Expose.   Crim. 

I know your Passion has a tie so great,  
That for her sake you'll quit th'Imperial Seat.  
I knew your Virtue is so strong, that if  
You swear you will protect my Throne and Life,  
You'll keep your Vow: Swear then by all those Powers  
Which the Religious World fears and Adores,  
To quit your Claim to Empire; Swear You'll make  
Me Monarch in that Throne which you'll forsake,  
And with your Blood you'll guard that Crown you give;  
If so, your Mistress shall have leave to Live.  
Though you quit Empires, you shall meet these charms  
To sleep, and dream of Kingdoms in her Arms.  
If not, prepare to see her amorous Breast,  
Give entertainment to this Iron Guest.  
To this your Answer.   Muly. H. 

Savage Infidel,  
Monster, there's not a hand on this side Hell,  
That dares attempt that Deed; there's not one Dart  
In Heaven, that would not strike the Murderers' Heart,  
Before his hand should touch her sacred Breast.   Crim. 

Since you are with such Heavenly Faith possessed,  
To think sh'has Champions in the Skies; I'll try,  
Who's the best Executioner, Heaven or I.   Muly. H. 

Hold Barbr'ous, Cruel, hold your murdering hands,  
Think on the Vengeance which that Crime attends:  
Think what a fierce Revenge I for her sake,  
Will on my Princess bloody Murderer take.   Mar. 

Hold Mulai Hamet, let his Rage go on.  
Can You but think of fear when I have none?   Crim. 

Tortures and Wracks will prove a vain design:  
That hand that sheds her Blood shall let out mine.  
Speak quickly then, ere words will come too late:  
My Crown restored, you'll yet redeem her Fate.   Mulai H. 
My Laurels, Crowns, and Empires are all yours.  Crim. 
Swear then.  Muly. H. 

I swear by the Eternal Powers,  
For her Lives ransom I this offering make:  
Morocco and your Crown I'll give you back.  
To my last blood I will your life defend,  
In Wars your Champion, and in Peace your friend.   Crim. 

A silent Grotto, and a shady Grove,  
Are far more proper scenes than Thrones for Love.  
And though your hand and hers no Sceptre bears,  
You Lovers may get Kings to be my Heirs.   Mar. 

I'll bind my Vow by the same powers you swore.  
I'll to a Thousand Deaths my Life expose,  
Before I will one Inch of Empire lose.  
'Tis not, bold Slave, my threatened death can make To Crim.  
My female fears my Right t'a Throne forsake.  
Heir to a Crown, though you so fierce have been,  
Mariam scorns to die less than a Queen.   Crim. 
So brisk young Champion! Have at thy Heart.  Muly. H. 

Stay Sir. Oh cruel Mariam can you part  
From Love and Life to rob the world and me?   Mar. 

No Mulai Hamet, a worse stain 'twill be  
To have my Crown resigned, than my Blood spilled,  
I of the two will choose the lesser guilt.  
Fame never shall in Histories express,  
Born to be great I yielded to be less.   Muly. H. 

If you aspire to greatness, that I'll grant:  
Your Mulai Hamet Empires cannot want,  
Whilst he possesses You, and wears a Sword.  
And if our afric does no room afford;  
I'll travel then to some remoter Sphere,  
Till I find out new Worlds, and Crown you there.   Mariam. 

'tis Honour and not Crowns that I esteem.  
And should I basely yield my Throne to him;  
My Name and Story would but poorly sound,  
Who raised a Murderer, and a Rebel Crowned.  
No, if at worst I by this Traitor die;  
Adore my Name, and love my Memory.  
Yes Mighty Man, perform this Valiant Part, To Crim.  
Bravely and boldly pierce a Female Heart:  
Let story boast, you this great deed fulfilled;  
Your manly hand an unarmed Woman kill.   Crim. 

Since you at scorn and daring are so good,  
I'll feel your Pulse, and try your heat of Blood.  
Guards fire the Castle.  
And while that burns I'll ha' new shape assume:  
I'll Sport and Revel with more pleasing Charms,  
Than Nero when he sung to burning Rome.  
I'll sing my Funeral Obsequies in these Arms;  
I'll Ravish her—  
Then throw myself and her into the Fire,  
And arm in arm together we'll Expire.  
Burn, Burn the Tower.   Enter Hametalhaz, in the Belcone with Guards, who seizes Crimalhaz and disarms Him. Ham. 
Before this Tower takes Fire, you'll want a Head.  Crim. 
Hametalhaz stand off; am I betrayed!  Ham. 

I have no time to answer your demands:  
Deliver him to Mulai Hamets' Hands.  
The highest Triumph my weak Arm e'er gained,  
Is to present this Princess to his Hand.   Crim. is forced down by the Guards. Muly. H. 

Her life preserved and he the instrument!  
What Miracle of Honour has fate sent?  
Sure Heaven acts Wonders! Wonders, no 'tis none—  
What have th'higher Powers to do but to take care,  
Of so much Virtue and a Face so Fair?   Enter Crimalhaz below, led in by Guards. 

See him Conveyed to Execution straight:  
He as he rose in Blood in Blood shall set.   Crim. 

Since I must die, and die Condemned by you:  
Hear Heaven, for I ne'er troubled you till now.  
So may my body rot when I am Dead,  
Till my rank dust has such Contagions bred:  
My Grave may dart forth Plagues, as may strike death  
Through the infected Air where thou drawest breath.  
Others may fancy pleasures more divine,  
I know not where: this shall in Hell be mine;  
To think when dead I yet can Death Convey,  
And what my Arm can't act my Ashes may.   Exit Guarded with Abdelcador. Enter Hametalhaz Leading Mariam. Muly. H. 

My dear and best Life, welcome. By thy Hand,  
My Crown, my Happiness and Heaven regained.  
What mystic Blessing does my fate pursue,  
To see her Saved and see her Saved by you?   Ham. 

Oh do not at this mystery admire:  
Nothing is strange which Beauty does inspire.  
To punish Treason and preserve a Throne,  
Are due to Mariamnes Eyes alone.  
When to his hand I gave that beauteous prize,  
Designed for his ambition's Sacrifice:  
When her hard fate, and her bright Charms I saw,  
These did my homage, that my pity draw.  
Something so kind I to that face did pay,  
That to Serve her I could my trust betray.  
Had I been born a Prince, and, in that name  
Like You, Erected Trophys to her fame:  
In all things than I had your Rival proved,  
And confidently told her that I Loved.  
But wanting worth I wanted words, and chose  
This way my speechless Passion to disclose.  
I would defend what I could ne'er enjoy,  
And break all bars that did her Peace destroy.  
But I too late resolved a flight so high:  
I cut my wings before I thought to fly:  
Too quick to work, too weak to prop her Fall.  
My Penitence could not my Sins recall,  
Till this blessed moment and your influence gave  
Her dangers and his insolence a Grave.   Muly. H. 

Such Honour and such Love! I am Conquered here,  
My Deeds and Passions are below thy Sphere.  
But as your Worth, your Power shall outreach mine:  
Subjects my Homage pay, but Monarchs thine.   Embraces him, Ham. 

Though Heaven by me her threatened life secures,  
And saves her blood to be allied to yours.  
Despair, not Friendship, yields to that hard task;  
I bravely give what I durst never Ask.  
Hold Heart while I this Treasure do resign;  
And Crown her Bliss with that which ruins mine,  
I perish at her feet whom I adore,  
The greatest Wracks are nearest to the shore.   Mariam. 

Such Language may by Chastest ears be heard,  
Your Love I must admire, and he reward.  
A Nobler Passion Story never writ,  
That turned a Traitor to a Proselyte.  
Thou best of Converts,   Muly. H. 

And of Rivals too,  
Sir, as a Tribute to your Virtue due,  
All Honour's Merit in a Court can meet,  
And a kind Monarch's Love, lie at your Feet.   Ham. 

Hold, that great act of Mercy must not pass,  
Let not your first days Reign a King disgrace.  
Of such high Bounty I'm unworthy still:  
My good Acts have not yet outweighed my ill.  
No—  
To some far Country,  
I from those Eyes for ever will remove,  
I cannot stand the sight of hopeless Love.  
Pilgrims, whose Zeal's more blessed though less Divine,  
Go meet their Saints: but I must fly from mine.   Offers to go. Muly. H. 

Stay I conjure you; stay you shall, you must:  
You've made me Great; Let me not be unjust.  
Speak what Command, what Power, what Crown you'll choose.   Ham. 

Crowns, no, such little Favours I refuse.  
None but the place you hold my wish can bound.  
But since I have your free offer to be Crowned,  
It is accepted: I a King will be,  
And of my Reign make this my first Decree,  
This Criminals Banishment, and to pursue  
My state, a Conqueror and a King like you;  
To what ere place my wandering steps incline,  
I'll fancy Empires for I'll think her mine.   Exit Ham.  

 
Here the Scene opens, and Crimalhaz appears cast down on the Gaunches, being hung on a Wall set with spikes of Iron. Enter again Abdelcador.  Abd. 

See the reward of Treason; Death's the thing  
Distinguishes th'Usurper from the King.  
Kings are immortal, and from Life remove,  
From their lower Thrones to wear new Crowns above:  
But Heaven for him has scarce that bliss in store:  
When an Usurper dies he reigns no more.   Muly. H. 

My Justice ended; now I'll meet a Crown:  
Crowns are the Common Prizes I have won.  
Those are Entailed on Courage. No 'tis You  
Can only yield a Bliss that's great and new.  
The Charm of Crowns to Love but dull appears:  
Rargning's a whole life's toil, the work of Years.  
In love a day, an hour, a minut's Bliss,  
Is all Flight, Rapture, Flame, and Ecstasies.  
Love's livelier Joys so quick and active move;  
An Age in Empire's but an Hour in Love.   Exeunt Omnes.     

EPILOGUE.  

THis Play like Country Girl come up to Town,  
Longed t'appear fine, in Jewels, and rich Gown;  
And so,  
Hoping its Pride you Courtiers would support,  
To please You, lost its Maidenhead at Court.  
Puffed with the glitt'ring of your gaudy Charms;  
It feared to meet no danger in your Arms.  
And though the harshest Censures be its due;  
Yet kinder usage it deserves from you.  
A generous Gallant though tired and Cloyed,  
Should still speak well of what he has enjoyed.  
Should you damn this you would yourselves reproach,  
'Tis barbarous to defame what you debauch.  
Nay, now you've Cast it off, yet do not Frown:  
Though like the refuge of a Miss o'th' Town,  
It is turned Common, Yours for half a Crown.  
'Twas generous at Court and did for Love,  
But does for profit to the Stage remove.  
Women and Wit on equal scores begin;  
Love and affection first may make 'em Sin,  
They trade for Interest when they're once got in.  
But for you Sirs, who Censure but not Write;  
Who do in Wit, as some in War, delight;  
Whose Courages do not much care to Fight:  
But though they can't of Scars nor Conquests vapour,  
They can draw sieges and take Towns in Paper.  
You 't will be hard to please;  
Critics whose saving and Condemning, still  
Is not your Act of Judgement, but your Will.  
Who equal Choice in Plays as Faces make,  
What you resolve, not what deserves shall take.  
Thus your applause resembles your Amours,  
Have we not seen (Oh loves almighty Powers!)  
A Wench with tallow- Looks and winter- Face,  
Continue one Man's Favourite seven Years space:  
Some Ravishing knack i'th' sport and some brisk motion,  
Keeps the gilt Coach and the gallants Devotion.  
Be to this Toy thus kind, and you will raise  
Much better Fancies to write better Plays.  
When meaner Faces are used kindly by ye,  
What Power have greater Beauties to deny ye.  
So your kind Smiles advance the scribbling Trade:  
To get good Play's you must Excuse the bad.   
FINIS.   

ERRATA  
FIrst page of the Epistle line 21 read Author. pag. 2. l. 16. r. to give 〈◊〉 Play. p. 8. l. 13. r. feighned, l. 26. r gilded. p 12. l 33. deleatur period (.) p. 19 l. 29. r. friends, p. 21. l. 25. r. hand had run. p. 34. l. 21. r. Lent p. 39. l. 4. r. clouds l. 29. r with, p. 43 r. Eurydice p. 45. l. 25. r. in the way. p. 50. l 6. r. Requests, p. 58. l. 20. deal▪ are, p. 60. l. 5. r. her Heart,, p. 62. l. 28. r. Raise my Guard, p. 63. l. 15. r. know.