IBRAHIM THE Illustrious BASSA. A TRAGEDY. Acted at the DUKE'S Theatre.  
Written by Elkanah Settle, Servant to His MAJESTY.  
— Te  
Nos facimus Fortuna Deam—  juven. 

Licenced  
May the 4th. 1676. Roger L'Estrange.   

LONDON, Printed by T. M. for W. Cademan, at the Popes-Head in the Lower Walk of the New-Exchange in the Strand, 1677.    

TO THE DUCHESS OF ALBEMARLE.  
Madam,  
WHen I consider what favourable Reception my first humble Supplications in this kind have had from your Grace's hand, I cannot think my Duty fully paid, nor my Adoration sufficiently expressed, till I Dedicate my whole Life and Labours to your Grace. 'Tis not one act of Devotion that can make a Zealot; and therefore as I made a Present then, I pay you a Tribute now. And though this Poem has but little Merit of its own, yet encouraged by the Honours it has received, like Pages to Princes, it owes its Boldness to its Education; and since your Grace gave it leave to be a troublesome Guest at New-Hall, it liked the Entertainment so well, that it resolves to Live and die there; and 'tis an Ambition in some respect to be justified; for Poetry should always make up part of the Trains of Princes, especially theirs whose Excellencies are so Divine a subject for it. Under that shelter I approach your Grace, when I must own I have played the Plagiary in making the Duchess of Albemarle the Pattern for my Roxolana; only with this difference, that I have copied below the Life. Your Grace has all her Virtue, without the allay of her Vanity; and this advantage above her, that Your Grace possesses those Charms which Story never attributed to Roxolana; Her Beauty could subdue, but not secure her Solyman. But your Grace's Victories are more complete; For if our English Chronicle (spite of the fashionable liberty of a Licentious Age) would Character the perfect happiness of a Princely Pair, it must describe the Influence of the Duchess of Albemarle over the unalterable Affections of her Lord: And as in Duty to such eminent Virtues; & such infinite Perfections, even the most ill-natured Age unanimously speaks of your Grace with Veneration; and to secure that Fame your Virtues have so justly acquired, your Grace is as Cautious in the Preservation of it: But so impregnable are your Sacred Principles of Honour, that your Grace's Care in that, is but like His, who raises Bulwarks to defend that Town, which of itself before was inaccessible; nor can I more reasonably impute the Duke of Albemarles, and your Graces more frequent Residence at New-Hall, to any other than a true English Nobleness; as knowing that your Greatness can better fill a Court than make a part of one. I could be very prolix on so excellent a Theme, for 'tis easy to Write where all Mankind Dictates; and I must confess 'tis the highest Bliss of an Author, to have those Patrons whose Merits are above Flattery, where the Titles of Great and Good may he given without a Blush. This made Horace speak so largely in the Commendations of his Maecenas, and Juvenal say so so little in the praise of Trajan: For my part I account it my chief Happiness to have been a Witness of your Grace's Greatness, and my highest Contemplation to be an Admirer of it. The humblest of which Admirers, is  
Madam, Your Grace's most Obliged, Most Devoted, and Most Humble Servant, Elkanah Settle.   

PROLOGUE.  
APplause is grown a strange Coy Mrs. now;  
Courted by All, and yet obtained by few.  
'Tis true, when any Favourites Plays appear,  
Then Kindness and Good-nature brings you here:  
And to secure the Censures of the Town,  
The Pit is filled with Friends in the Forenoon;  
And those five long expecting hours you stay,  
Are spent in making Proselytes to th' Play.  
Such Favour is not common; nor are Wit  
And Sense the only means of gaining it.  
That happy Man, the Author, you commend,  
Must be at once a Poet and a Friend:  
Honoured by the acquaintance of the Great;  
His Conversation Eminent, as his Wit.  
And as th' effect of your kind Influence,  
We've seen such refined Fancy, so much sense,  
Such Plays as do deserve so much Applause,  
They need no Favour to support their Cause.  
But since our Author wants that Interest,  
And those perfections which delight you best;  
And none of those kind leading Votes can boast,  
Let not his Play for his hard Fate be lost,  
What if our Author be not one of You;  
Wit should like coin pass current from a Jew:  
And should not its Esteem like Medals hold,  
Where th' Image more than weight gives price to th' Gold.  
Gallants, let Wit the Fate of Beauty find;  
Be to it, wheresoever you meet it, kind:  
I'm sure Variety best pleases there.  
The Mrs. you maintain Gay, Brisk, and Fair,  
Does not so much your stock of Kindness reap;  
But you can spend some hours on joys more cheap.  
And so  
On humble Writers let some favours fall;  
Let not the Dons of Wit engross you all.   


Actor's Names.  SOlyman the Magnificent, 
Mr. Batterton  Ibrahim, the Vizier Bassa, 
Mr. Smith  Ulama, the Sophy's Son and Heir of Persia, 
Mr. Harris.  Morat a Bassa, 
Mr. Medbourn.  Muphti, 
Mr. Gillo.   

Women.  Roxolana, 
Mrs. Marry Lee.  Asteria, Soliman's Daughter, and Roxolana's Favourite 
Mrs. Corar.  Isabel, a Christian Princess, 
Mrs. Batterton  Mirva, 
Mrs. Hughes.  Bassas, Mutes, Janissaries, and other Attend. 
  
The SCENE Soliman's Seralio.   

IBRAHIM, The ILLUSTRIOUS BASSA.  
ACT the FIRST.  
The SCENE, the Seraglio.  Enter Roxolana, Mirva, Guards, and Ladies. Mirva. 
THe Turkish power was absolute till now:  
All knees, all hearts did to the Sultan bow.  
Nay Beauty too by Heaven and Nature made,  
To Conquer Kings, in the tame crowd obeyed;  
The world was searched, and busy Nations strove  
To find out Martyrs for a Tyrants Love.  2. Lady. 
Even Daughters by their Parents were betrayed,  
Who their fair race a willing Victim made;  
In a Seraglio, they Cloistered slept,  
For servile Love in shining Fetters kept:  
Till Roxolana the long Bondage broke,  
And by her Influence shook off the yoke.  Mirva. 
Yes, Royal Madam, 'twas your Eyes alone,  
That could confine his wandering heart to one;  
And singly rule the Conquered Solyman:  
Beauty was ne'er a Monarch till your Reign.  
The glorious Sun shines by himself most bright,  
When crowds, like Stars, make but a feeble light▪  Roxolan. 
And Mirva, to confirm the Chains I gave,  
By Sacred Rites I've bound my Royal Slave.  
It has been mine, and only my Renown,  
T'h●ve joined a Nuptial Wreath t'a Turkish Crown.  
He saw me, and he looked his power away;  
Nor can years raze the Structures of that day:  
The Siege I laid, an Age cannot remove;  
His Constancy's as great as is His Love.  
Men call me Proud; yes, so might Heaven be too,  
If its Adorers were but half as true.  
Homage to that, inconstant Mortals pay;  
And Heaven meets with Apostates every day.  
Brighter their Temples and their power would shine,  
Did God's maintain their Altars, as I mine.  Enter Asteria attended. Aster. 
I come to lay new Honours at your Feet,  
In your returning Lord a Conqueror meet.  
The Sultan does from Vanquished Persia come,  
From being feared abroad, to be adored at home.  
By what the Arms of Solyman have won,  
The Turkish Moon Eclipsed the Persian Sun.  Roxol. 
Your Father, dear Asteria, has in you,  
A pious Herald sound, and just one too.  
But whilst the Sultan's Conquests you express,  
Is not Love shrouded in this Martial dress?  
Amidst the louder Vows you pay to him,  
Does not the Great and Faithful Ibrahim,  
(To whose success the Sultan's glory's due)  
Extort some silent Veneration too?  Aster. 
I cannot but with blushes own his power.  
Ibrahim is every where a Conqueror.  Roxol. 
Nay! Blush no more! His Victories remove  
That Bar, which has so long concealed your Love:  
All that he is; all he has don's your due,  
Life, and the Sultan's smiles he gained by you.  
At once a Condemned Criminal and a Slave,  
You Rescued him from Fetters and a Grave.  
He, and his Conquests your Creations are.  
To you he owes them, and shall pay 'em here.  Aster. 
Grant this, and Heaven, pns make no other prayer.  
If the kind Destinies this wish fulfil,  
Let all their other works of Fate stand still.  Roxol. 
By my Commands, you have concealed your flame,  
Till his illustrious Deeds had raised his Fame,  
Above all Conquerors this Age can show;  
The only worth that should aspire to you.  
Till than I bid you your low passion hide:  
And see how Heaven rewards your noble Pride.  
In this high State, He may your Kindness know;  
You've made him Godlike ere you treat him so.  
Love like Religion in a mighty mind,  
Should build those Temples which it does not find.  Aster. 
My Breast thus long has my Love's Jailor been,  
And kept by force the struggling Prisoner in.  
But oh! how much is my freed soul at peace,  
When you pronounce the tiresome Slaves Release.  Enter Solyman, Ibrahim, Ulama, Dorea, Bassas, and Janissaries. Solym. 
Be this days Pomp your care, in th' Aga's room,  to Dorea▪ 
Fix you my Standard in the Hippodrome:  
And as my Agent pay that debt I owe;  
My Gratitude in Ibrahims' glory show.  
Do it with such Magnificence and State,  
As fits the Triumph which we celebrate.  Here Solyman approaches and discovers Roxolana. Roxol. 
Welcome the World's great Conqueror & mine;  
Enough before did your bright Luster shine.  
You needed not new Victories, new Charms,  
To welcome you to Roxolana's Arms.  Solym. 
Yes; I need all my glories, when you're near,  
I bring my Trophies as a Tribute here.  
Great, though I am, your power is greater yet;  
The World to me, ay, to your Eyes submit.  
Betwixt Love's power and Majesty's this odds;  
The Vows men pay to Saints, Saints pay their Gods.  Ibrah. 
Yes, Dorea, go; raise this Triumphant Seat.  [to Dorea. 
Let th'entertainment be both rich and great;  
Let it have all that Majesty may dress,  
In spoils of War or Ornaments of Peace.  
But then consider where that Honour's due;  
To him alone, you must with Homage bow:  
Obey him as my Sovereign, not my Friend.  Ulam. 
Oh Ulama, thy heart, thy heart defend.  [Gazing on Roxolana. Roxol. 
Great and Victorious you must ever prove,  
Be but your Stars thus constant as your Love.  Solym. 
Their influence is secure; I cannot fear  
Success nor Conquest whilst this Arm makes War.  [presents Ibrahim to her. 
For when my Ibrahim did to Persia go,  
Against the Sophy, my most powerful Foe;  
So small his Forces were, so few his Arms,  
That they seemed only fit to give Alarms,  
Not overthrows; sent but to rouse my game;  
But as the lightning till my Thunder came.  
Yet when my greater force ith'Field I drew,  
Expecting danger and a stubborn Foe;  
Expecting by long Sweat and Toil t'have gone,  
Through Blood and Ruin to the Persian Throne,  
His Wondrous Arm such Miracles had done,  
I came but to behold the Fields he won.  Ibrah. 
The Sultan's pleasure is, that shining things,  
Should only be the Favourites of Kings.  [To Roxolana. 
And shows his God-like Bounty when he takes  
Delight t'adorn the Creatures which he makes.  Solym. 
Though Crowns and Empires have his Triumphs been,  
There was one Trophy left for me to win,  [To Roxolana. 
This Prince's heart; the bravest and the best  
Of all my Persian Foes; is Solyman's Guest.  [presents Ulama to her. 
I have, to show what to your Beauty's due,  
Brought the great Sophy's Son to wait on you.  Ulama. 
Your generous Lord such favours does confer  
On Ulama his Ibrahim's Prisoner.  
That from my Chains, without a Ransom paid,  
Not only freed, but Soliman's Creature made,  
My overthrow I must heavens' blessings call,  
Who owe this Resurrection to my fall.  Roxola. 
His favours Solyman does not idly place,  
No doubt he found you merited that Grace.  Ulama. 
So eminent your Sultan's Virtues are;  
I wonder not at his success in War.  
The Fates in Duty to such worth are kind:  
Justly th' obsequious Destinies designed  
No other force should Solyman subdue;  
As being the only Conquest fit for you.  
Was't not enough I was subdued at home?  
Have I a new Captivity to come?  
On envied Solyman! Oh infinite charms!  
My Eyes are more ambitious than thy Arms!  Aside. Solym. 
But my dear Ibrahim, now is the time,  
I must accuse a Conqueror of a Crime:  
You wear a look unfit for Victory:  
In all the glories you have heaped on Me,  
In Deeds that ought to make the Actor proud,  
On your dark Brow you wear a sullen Cloud.  Roxol. 
I have observed him with the same surprise,  
And marked a killing sorrow in his Eyes.  Solym. 
In this dejected look  
There's something more than modesty: Your Friend  
And King must know from whence those Clouds descend?  
Do you repine at the loud Fame you get?  
Or is't unwillingly you make me great?  Ibrah. 
Unwillingly! Forbear that killing sound;  
Give not a Loyal heart so deep a wound.  
Unwillingly! not Misers meet their Wealth,  
Lover's success, despairing Sinners Health,  
Or Martyr's Heaven, with half the joy, that I  
Can in your Cause, subdue, obey, or die.  Aster. 
My life shall pay for one ill thought in Him,  
I'll answer for the Loyal Ibrahim.  Solym. 
But, my best Ibrahim, your griefs declare;  
Can you have Sorrows, which I must not share?  
Your troubles may be just, and by my fault;  
Perhaps I have not used you as I ought:  
Perhaps your merits are not fully paid;  
The Crowns that Ibrahim won, are not on Ibrahims' head:  
But though my tardy hand has guilty been;  
'Tis not too late to expiate that sin.  
Crowns thou shalt have—  Ibrah. 
Oh Royal Sir, no more;  
Bounty was never Cruelty before.  
So great, so large a present as a Crown,  
Is fit for Solyman to give alone:  
'Tis great, but 'tis not kind; when you can think,  
My soul t'a mercenary thought can sink.  
My thoughts from a more just Ambition spring,  
'Tis all my Pride; Unbribed to serve my King.  Solym. 
Then tell me—  Ibrah. 
Oh the secret must not out—  [Aside. Roxol. 
If not his kindness, than his power you doubt:  
Can there be any thing disturbs your rest,  
As cannot be by Solyman redressed?  
Think you his power's so little?—  Ibrah. 
No, so great—  
When yours joins too, to make that power complete,  
'Tis infinite, like that bright boundless space,  
Where light and Saints their endless glories place:  
Within it all things, and beyond it nothing.  Solym. 
Say then, from whence does all this darkness come?  
Have I done injury to Christendom?  
Have any of my foreign powers by steel,  
Or Rapine, wronged those Altars where you kneel?  Ibrah. 
Love pardon duties sin, when I reveal  
My lesser sorrows, but the great conceal!  Aside. 
Sir, when I bring  
The Lowness whence you drew me to my thought;  
The change which your Almighty hand has wrought:  
Though he that raised it can support my state;  
With trembling I behold my dangerous height.  
Malice and Envy will my life pursue,  
And strive to make me hated be by you.  
How many of my Predecessors fell?  
Nor could their Services their Dooms repel.  
The faithful Vizier Achmat,  
Raised Bajazet the Second to his Throne;  
And little less had Valiant Chassan done  
For your great Father: Yet in all their pride,  
Both by their jealous Lords suspected died.  
The fear of death my trouble does not make;  
My Life and Honours you may freely take.  
But when I think the fatal time may be  
When you will but suspect my Loyalty;  
'Tis that strikes horror through my staggering sense:  
No Torture like mistaken Innocence.  Solym. 
I thought to you I'had made my breast so clear;  
That you had nothing left to wish or fear.  
But since my kind conjectures are not sure,  
At once your weakness I'll forgive and cure:  
I swear by Alla (and to bind my Vow,  
Heaven make me happy as I'm just to you)  
Whilst Solyman Lives, his Ibrahim shall not die  
By any violent death.  Ibrah. 
Your favours are so high—  Solym. 
Forbear your thanks, 'tis only what I owe;  
Men thanks for Gifts, and not for Debts bestow.  Roxol. 
No Sir, your constancy he cannot doubt;  
He knows his Prince too well for such a thought.  
Why this disguise?—  Solym. 
I'll take this surer way;  
Though Friendship have no influence, Love may.  
Here be your looks as Conquering as your Sword;  
I call you Friend, and she shall call you Lord.  [Gives him Asteria. Aster. 
That word my ravished sense does overcome:  
I feel my joys too mighty to be dumb.  Aside. Solym. 
Be to my blood, as to my soul allied:  
Now have you thoughts, you from your King can hide?  
Have I not bought 'em yet?  Ibrah. 
What shall I say?  [Aside. Aster. 
My Bliss was never perfect till this day.  [Aside. Rox. 
This Lady, whom in Chains you could subdue,  
Admired by all, deserved By none but you;  
Enriched with Solyman's favours, and above  
All other Ornaments; her greater Love;  
Meets you with all the kindness souls e'er shared;  
Your Glories prize, your Loyalties reward.  Aster. 
Do not too high her little Merit raise,  
Who blushes but too much without this praise;  
Yet Sir—  
By your commands I should all shame remove:  
I need not blush when Duty bids me Love.  
But mighty Sir, if the o're-hasty guest,  [to Ibrahim. 
By a too early Reign, this Seat possessed;  [points to her Breast. 
Let th'easy prize not make the value less;  
Nor Love its merit loose for its excess.  
A Love which could not be by force expelled;  
And now wants power to keep its joys concealed.  Solym. 
To make her yet more worthy—  Ibrah. 
Great Sir, hold—  
Let me alone this Beauty's worth unfold:  
'Tis I can best describe such excellence.  Aster. 
I feel new raptures in my softened sense!  [Aside. Ibrah. 
Some Hero whom Imperial Crowns adorn,  
To greatness raised, and as much greatness born.  
Some Prince that has so much Mankind outdone,  
As should make Solyman's equal in his Son:  
'Tis such a one should meet Asteria's charms;  
But I the most unworthy of her Arms—  Roxol. 
Where will this end?  [Aside. Aster. 
Some God that pity's Love, divert my fear.  [Aside. Ibrah. 
So little power of Gratitude dwells here!  [points to his Breast. 
That I'm beneath your scorn, so wretched I,  
To reconcile my Fate, beg leave to die.  
Yes, take my heart; but when 'tis yours, it must  
Be offered up in blood, to make it just.  
To give me back my Chains, would be too kind;  
Let me in Death, Yours, and his Justice find.  Solym. 
Has Ibrahim crimes make him deserve to die?  Ibrah. 
I Criminal! Oh none so much as I.  
I am below the state of Infidels:  
I view that face where Sovereign Beauty dwells:  
Beauty, which homage, next to Gods, receives;  
And commands hearts, more than the Sultan, Lives.  
Yet, I to neither can Allegiance pay,  
Love my Preserver, or my Prince obey.  
Fair Mistress of my Life and Liberty;  
The founder of my Fame, all I enjoy;  
Th'ungrateful Creature of your smiles destroy.  Roxol. 
Are Soliman's favours and his blood abused?  
And so much Love thus barbarously used?  Solym. 
Ibrahim! I am unwilling to believe,  
Such Disrespect I can from Man receive;  
Much less from Favourites; say then, what is  
That Power has destined me to suffer this?  Aster. 
Ask not the reason of his disrespect,  
Let her describe the Cause, who feels th'effect.  
My sighs with scorn too fatally are paid:  
My Love's despised for some more happy Maid.  
Look, Sir, on this sad object, and in me  [to Ibrah. 
The sudden change of fading Greatness see.  
When I came hither, (oh my short-lived Bliss!)  
I'd not have changed my hopes of happiness,  
To have been Empress of the World: but now  
Not the most wretched of my Sex so low.  
Nor am I in my slighted Love alone  
Unfortunate, but guilty too! I've done  
What neither to my Sex nor Birth was due,  
Transgressed the Laws of modesty, for you.  
So weak my heart, so great my sufferings are;  
I cannot hide my Love, nor my Despair.  [offers to go. Roxol. 
What do I live to hear! Asteria, stay—  Aster. 
No! let me take my hated sight away:  
This freedom to the lost Asteria give;  
In Crowds the Prosperous, not the Wretched live:  [Exit Asteria. Roxol. 
Who is that powerful Rival, for whose sake,  
Your stubborn heart her Beauty cannot shake.  
For whom Asteria's favours, and her blood,  
Are prized as little as they're understood:  
Yet name her not; already I have heard  
Too much; if Solyman you loved or feared,  
You would not treat him thus. You've wronged him more  
Than all your Victories obliged before.  [Exit. Solym. 
Go triumph in her sufferings and my shame,  
And add this one proud Title to your Fame;  
You from an injured King this Grace received;  
You are the first disturbed my peace, and lived.  [Exit with his Train, all but Ibrahim. Ibrah. 
Ruined at once so sure! Fate has made haste.  
Who could believe that so few hours are past,  
Since this undone, lost, despicable thing  
Was feared by all the World, and favoured by his King.  
But now her Love refused, his blood disgraced;  
How are those Titles at one blast defaced!  
Oh Love! Oh Isabel! When thy Ear  
Shall the dire sound of my misfortunes hear,  
Give me at once thy pity and applause:  
And whilst my Ruin has so dear a Cause,  
Dying for thee; Fame to my praise shall tell,  
That Ibrahim lived less Nobly, than He fell.  [Exit Ibrahim. 
The End of the First Act.   

ACT the SECOND.  
The SCENE, the Scraglio.  Enter Ibrahim, and Ulama, Ibrah. 
HAs my refusal made no change at all?  
Does she not yet her wandering sense recall?  
Tell me, she hates; she does— she must: how can  
Such goodness love so barbarous a Man?  Ulam. 
Your Tyranny shakes not your Empire there;  
The lost Asteria Loves you in despair:  
With all her art and power she strives t'assuage  
The violence of her angry Father's rage.  
For your protection humbly on her knees,  
The Eloquence of Tears and Prayers she tries:  
And all for him, by whose disdain she Dies.  
Not bleeding Saints for Martyrdom designed,  
Are to their Executioners more kind.  Ibrah. 
Unhappy Maid, and more unhappy I,  
The Author of such killing Cruelty:  
Who see that Innocence such pains endure,  
And make those wounds which I must never cure.  Ulama. 
But whilst so long you Soliman's heart possessed,  
Why was your Love a Stranger to his breast?  
The knowledge of a former Mrs. Claim,  
Might have suppressed Asteria's growing flame;  
And so great power as his might have prevailed,  
T'obtain that suit where your own interest failed.  Ibrah. 
Even Solyman's power had been a weak defence;  
For know, she's Daughter to a Christian Prince:  
Who by th'inveterate hate which long before  
Our Warring Families for Ages bore;  
Has with such furious rage, my Love pursued,  
As suffering Genova has felt in blood:  
By the ill chance of War, 'twas our hard doom,  
In three set Battles, to be overcome:  
My Family destroyed, my hopes undone,  
The Field by her Insulting Father won;  
I straight took Ship, and for new aids did fly  
To our Allies, the States of Sicily.  
And taken Prisoner by the Algereens,  
I to that Voyage owed my Turkish chains.  Ulam. 
Your Births being equal, 'twas unjustly done,  
He did not then embrace you for his Son;  
When th'happy tie had made your Families cease  
Their hate, and reconciled a Nations peace.  Ibrah. 
'Tis true, he might have been so just, but know,  
Hate thinks none equal, much less makes 'em so.  
So fierce his rage, so great was his disdain;  
I durst not tell my Love to Solyman:  
Lest my just King concerned at my ill Fate,  
In kindness might have proved my Advocate.  Ulam. 
What danger could that cause?  Ibrah. 
I feared that He  
Might for my sake have been denied like me.  
Too well I knew that would provoke his rage,  
And in revenge my angry King engage.  
But false to th' Christians cause I ne'er could prove,  
Nor take such Vengeance, though for injured Love.  
Far be't from me to shake her Father's Throne,  
Or touch his Life, whence she derives her own.  
More I could bear, and greater wrongs o'ercome,  
To be the Champion-Friend of Christendom.  Ulam. 
With this just Love, to Solyman I'll go,  
And try what Reason, joined with Prayers can do.  [Ex. Ulama. Enter Dorea. Dor. 
Great Sir, a Bassa, newly come on shore,  
In Rustan's name admittance does implore;  
By a command from him he humbly craves  
Your kind acceptance of some Christian Slaves.  [Exit Dorea. Ibrah. 
From Rustan! Go admit him.  
I've been by long and fawning Courtship pressed,  
To reconcile him to the Sultan's Breast.  
But were his flattering hopes on Reason built,  
Were it in Ibrahims' soul to side with guilt;  
Did he but now behold my wretched state,  
He'd find me there but a weak Advocate.  Enter Isabel, introduced by a Bassa, attended by Ladies. 
My Isabel! What blessed Vision's this?  
Am I awake, or do I dream of Bliss?  
Thus let me seal assurance to my sense,  [kisses her hand. 
And free my labouring thoughts from their suspense.  
This ravishing sight drives all my Clouds away;  
From my long Night, breaks out eternal Day.  
How, Madam, after three long mourning years,  
Which I have languished out in fighs and tears,  
Have you escaped your angry Father's eye,  
To bless this place with your Divinity?  
How have you past the Mountains, Rocks, and Sea,  
Which so long parted my fair World and me?  Isabel. 
My Fate is in such mysteries involved,  
The riddle is not easily resolved:  
Stolen from my Court, forced almost from the Tomb  
Of my dead Father—  Ibrah. 
Her Father dead!  Isabel. 
And after that become  
A prey to one unknown, robbed of my peace,  
Freedom, and power, exposed to Winds and Seas;  
And what more dreadful is than all those pains,  
The hazard of my Honour in my Chains:  
Through these rough paths I have been guided here;  
But now I think my Sanctuary near,  
My Ibrahims' presence does dispel my fear.  Bassa. 
Those actions her mistaken Innocence,  
Has rendered such a Capital offence;  
Kind Rustan, Sir, did boldly for your sake,  
And for your preservation undertake.  Ibrah. 
For mine!  Isabel. 
For his! Oh let me hear no more.  
If all this rudeness was on Ibrahim's score;  
And by your order I th' Abuse receive,  
I've heard much more than I can e'er forgive.  Ibrah. 
Can you believe me guilty but in thought  
Of that black Crime the impious Rustan wrought?  
Tho she's a Treasure I esteem Divine,  
By Sacrilege I would not make her mine.  Bassa. 
The Vizier may all these excuses spare,  
For in this Rape, he, Madam, had no share.  
This Plot was Rustans' only, who by Spies  
Employed t' observe you in your Privacies,  
Found you a Captive were to those bright Eyes.  to Ibrah. 
By some discourse 'twixt you and Dorea made,  
The secret of your Love was first betrayed.  
Rustan knew too, her Father was your Foe,  
And that you'd ne'er consent to use him so:  
And fearing so much Love, Despair, and Grief,  
Might rob the World without some quick Relief;  
Unknown to you, he took this violent course,  
T' obtain what kindness could not win, by force;  
And hopes that act may not a Crime appear,  
Which saves your Life, and cures a Kingdoms fear.  Isabel. 
But since my Fate has brought me to this place,  
Where I once more behold my Ibrahims' Face;  
And safe in Duty, and in Honour live,  
Tell him a Crime so kind I can forgive.  Ibrah. 
But say you saw your Ibrahim in Chains,  
Bound, during Life, to bear the worst of pains;  
Rifled of all his Honours, Pomp, and Powers,  
Could you in some dark Dungeon call him Yours?  Isabel. 
Why Sir this cruel question? Can distress  
And change of Fortune make my Passion less?  
'Tis not true Love that ever can decrease.  
But who dares load with Chains the Sultan's Friend,  
Can human power oppress what he'll defend?  Ibrah. 
Alas that friendship which once shined on me,  
Is set for ever: Call't not Vanity;  
When I must say 'twas my ill Fate to prove  
The object of the fair Sultana's Love.  
And Solyman o'er acting Friendships part,  
Made me an offer of a Daughter's heart.  
Which Grace refused, too plainly I fore-see,  
The dire effects of slighted Majesty.  Isabel. 
And will my Ibrahim bear all this for me?  
Will he for me provoke the Sultan's frowns,  
And for my sake neglect Life, Power, and Crowns?  Ibrah. 
I could for you the worst of Fates sustain.  
Death were my Pride, and if't had any pain,  
'Twould be to part so long to meet so late again.  Isabel. 
King's are unlike their sacred pattern, Heaven;  
If their offenders cannot be forgiven.  
Let him go on, his utmost rage fulfil:  
And though he cannot frown, but he must kill;  
Confirm this constancy and Fate contemn,  
Suffer more boldly than He can condemn.  
And as I doubt not, since the fault was mine,  
But th' Author in th'Offenders doom shall join:  
As your long Love's reward expect to see,  
The Scene of Martyrdom filled up by me.  
As in our Loves in Death together bound,  
With greater pomp and state we'll meet the wound,  
Then Victims that were led to Altars crowned.  Ibrah. 
But see the mighty Solyman draws nigh.  Enter Solyman, Ulama, Morat. and Guards. 
See there the trembling World's Idolatry,  
And such a Prince, whose merit is so high,  
That he who steals from Heaven to make a gift  
Of homage there, may justify the theft.  Solym. 
Do you not tremble when you see me here?  Ibrah. 
No Sultan, I have reverence, but no fear.  Solym. 
And does not shame your guilty Conscience touch?  Ibrah. 
Though Solyman in Thunder should approach,  
Still the same charming Majesty he wears;  
But if so great and sacred he appears,  
To those that meet his Frowns, and tread on Graves;  
How God-like is He when he Smiles and Saves?  Solym. 
Ibrahim! What Guardian Angel have you here?  
My Furies vanish when such charms appear:  
What Lady's that?  Ibrah. 
One, for whose sake I can  
Meet Death, and stand the Frowns of Solyman.  Solym. 
Thy Love is bold!  
But in her cause I can't admire thy Pride.  
What unknown Nation did that Beauty hide?  Ibrah. 
Sir, to my torment she ' has been hid too long;  
Too fierce her Jailor, and her Jail too strong.  
Till Fate at last closed up her Dragon's Eyes,  
And then by force brought the Illustrious Prize.  
Heaven this fair Mourner sent t'attend my Grave,  
To see your bleeding Victim in her Slave.  Solym. 
No Ibrahim; you could not die before:  
For Solyman, your Life's protection swore.  
And now you must not suffer if you could:  
Such Beauty can appease my injured blood.  
Though you've wronged Friendship, Friendship must forgive:  
Who cannot die for her, can less deserve to live.  
Beauteous unknown—  [too Isabel. 
If thy fair hand the Sacred Contract Sealed,  
Which must not be by any Power Repealed;  
That Present from a Monarch's Hand accept,  [gives Ibrahim to her. 
Which has for thee by Destiny been kept.  
I should unjustly, in a Subject chide  
That Constancy, which is a Monarch's Pride.  Ibrah. 
By your surprising goodness overcome,  
Thus let his Duty speak, whom wonder has struck dumb.  [Kneels, Solym. 
Rise Ibrahim; is Justice in a King  
So strange, and so astonishing a thing?  Isabel. 
Is this the Dungeon? These the Chains? false fear,  
That could suspect such Cruelty reigned there!  
Sure you mistook the Judge, or I the Doom,  [to Ibrah. 
Who find such virtue out of Christendom.  Solym. 
Justice and Nature here shall end their strife:  
Rich in those Charms enjoy a happy Life.  Ibrah. 
So vast a gift by so much mercy given!  
If Monarchs in their actions copy Heaven,  
Your glory in that List must be the chief:  
Never was copy yet so near the Life.  Solym. 
Tho Fate for this commanding Beauty's sake,  
Will not permit you should my blood partake,  
I will not be by Destiny outdone:  
I in a Friend will still possess a Son.  Ibrah. 
What means my King?  Solym. 
All kindness to that Name.  
What ever envied Monarch does lay claim  
To this fair Race, His glory I'll partake;  
This Lady my Adopted Daughter make.  
With all the Rites and Pomp due to my blood,  
With all the Regal Ornaments endowed,  
That ever did or can attend my Race,  
You shall in Her a Sultaness embrace.  Isabel. 
Forgive me, sleeping Father, when I must  
Thy Honours steal, and rob thy Sacred Dust,  
To pay new homage here. Great Solyman!  
Such matchless Virtues in your Bosom reign,  
As without sin, Religion can control,  
And swell th' Ambition of a Christians soul.  
Let me thus low the mighty Title meet,  
And fall before a Royal Father's feet.  [Kneels. Solym. 
Rise, and accept  
Not on my Bounty, but your merits score  
A Fathers Love.  [Raises her up. 
Pray Heaven I've given no more.  
I have approached her killing excellence  
Too nigh, and feel in my transported sense,  
Something that says I'm by my Eyes undone:  
And yet the Lawless wandering lights gaze on.  Aside. Isabel. 
Those numerous Trophies you've in Battle won,  
Gain you less Fame than this one act has done.  
Your Valour there but Nations overthrew;  
Here Solyman does Solyman subdue.  Solym. 
At first I thought agazed gaz'd without a sin:  
Friendship and Honour kept the Traitor in.  
Now 'tis resistless; whilst such pains she takes  
To praise my Conquests, she a greater makes.  Aside. Isabel. 
How faintly Fame does Solyman present  
In those weak name, Great and Magnificent.  
Those Attributes the Christ an World does give,  
And those from Fear and Envy you receive.  
If who but hear your goodness give no less,  
What must she pay whom it vouchsafes to bless?  Solym. 
What must you pay?  
O that strange word! might I prescribe the way,  
How those fair Eyes their Gratitude should pay;  
I Miser-like, should for such payment sue,  
As would t'enrich myself the World undo.  
But Shame and Friendship interpose between  
My wandering wishes, and that splendid Scene.  Aside. 
Fair Creature—  Isabel. 
Generous Sir—  Solym. 
No more!  
Think I've obliged you less, or if I had done  
What might deserve applause, yet pay me none.  
For since her Eyes have done too much before,  
Why should her Wit advance the Conqueror?  
Since, I have the Mortal stroke already found,  
'Tis torturing of me to enlarge the wound.  Aside. Isabel. 
Then what I must not, my whole Sex shall pay.  
For the strange wonders of our Nuptial day;  
Lovers shall in their Temples sing your praise,  
And add their Myrtle Chaplets to your Bays.  Solym. 
Fair excellence, no more: Here Ibrahim, haste,  [Gives her to Ibrahim. 
Begone, and hold that Beauteous Treasure fast.  
Be gone, whilst I have power to bid you go.  Ibrah. 
We have received his Royal Grace too slow.  
His Daughters struggling wrongs resume their powers:  [To Isabel. 
Let us retire whilst the blessed minute's ours.  Solym. 
Quick, fly with your rich prize, lest you delay,  
Till that storm rise, will drown you if you stay.  [Ex. Ibrahim and Isab. 
And is she given into a Rival's hand?  
Seized and possessed, and all by my command?  
He from my bleeding heart tears that fair prey;  
And in that Rape forces my life away.  [Ex. Attendants to Ibrahim and Isabel. 
Stay Prince, to you, and to Morat, I dare  
The nearest secrets of my Soul declare.  
I'm grown so altered, and deformed a thing;  
In Solyman you'll scarce find out your King.  
An impious and devouring flame has razed  
All in me that was good, all that was great defaced:  
That like the World in its last Funeral fires,  
After that infinite Mass consumed, expires;  
Where once so bright an Orb of glory was;  
Torments and Hell fill up the empty space.  Ulam. 
Those thoughts, whence this disordered language grew,  
Have some great cause:  Solym. 
Yes, and a strange one too.  
I'm practising the Giant's War again:  
I've seen that Heaven I would unjustly Win.  
In one mean act, my Honour I Dethrone:  
From Ibrahim's Friend, I am his Rival grown.  Ulam. 
For his, for hers, for your own glories sake,  
Some care of your declining Friendship take.  
Her, by your Kingly promise, you have made  
Your Daughter, him your Son; Rights which t'invade,  
Will so much stain your worth, eclipse your light,  
That your own Mirror will your soul affright:  
That he who once made trembling Nations shake,  
Will at his own surprising Image quake.  Solym. 
These reasons my Conversion might have wrought,  
Were I not too much hardened in my fault.  
But Ulama I Love, and must Enjoy;  
No Argument can that Resolve destroy.  
In this extreme my desperate cause defend,  
Not as my Reasons, but my Passions Friend.  
O tell me how  
I may my Love without a Crime pursue;  
Sooth me, and flatter me, deceive me, do:  
Hide all those stains that make it an offence,  
And cheat me with a glimpse of Innocence.  Morat. 
What need of Cheats? Is there a happiness  
That the World's Lord should wish, and not possess?  
You wrong yourself, and our great Prophet too,  
To yield to grief, and not your joys pursue:  
Kings are his care, not are their passions fired  
by common heat of blood, but things inspired.  
'Tis the Eternal Will that does ordain  
Your Love or Hate; nor can that act in vain.  
If your Bliss only by her Love's attained,  
For you then she's by providence ordained.  
Why to yourself then, are you so unkind,  
To feed your own despair; why, to mankind,  
To let their Monarch languish; why to Heaven,  
Thus to refuse what th'High decrees have given?  Solym. 
No, Kind Morat; our Prophet does ordain,  
Monarchs with Honour should their Joys obtain:  
And when that Rock stops our forbidden way,  
Power must not climb where Virtue bids us stay.  Mor. 
Honour and Friendship safe, with all her charms,  
That Beauty shall be lodged within your arms.  
Put his Allegiance to this glorious test;  
Tell him your Love, and make her your request.  
When he shall know such adored greatness dies,  
If not recovered by that Lady's eyes;  
What will not so much Loyalty perform,  
To guard his King from such a threat'ning storm?  
By Heaven he will present her on his knees.  Solym. 
Love ne'er makes gifts so Prodigal as these.  Mor. 
Be not deceived, your powerful influence try.  Solym. 
How, not deceived! Yes, you deceive me.  Mor. 
ay!  Solym. 
Yes! and I thank you for the courtesy.  
Though all that you have said in my defence,  
Are Reasons as removed from Truth and Sense,  
As I'm from Peace: Yet such my passion is;  
I'm charmed even with imaginary bliss.  
Love, when thy powers distracted fancies seize,  
Hope in all forms, though ne'er so false can please.  Ulam. 
Recall your wandering thoughts from such false dreams,  
And free yourself from all these wiled extremes:  
This low desire and humble thought surmount,  
And your own happier Scenes of Love recount:  
Think of that dazzling form, so far above  
Natures less lights, your Roxolana's Love.  Solym. 
There! Oh 'tis there I'm lost! that only Name,  
Brands my inconstancy with guilt and shame.  
Her right I, irreligious I, have stole;  
She, who so long has singly swayed my soul;  
To whom I've sworn that Faith should ne'er remove,  
And dedicated an immortal Love;  
A Love so sacred, as should neither have  
An end on this side, nor beyond the Grave:  
Down go her Altars, and her power decays;  
To a new Saint I a new Temple raise.  Ex. Sol. & Mor. Ulam. 
This secret must to Roxolana; she  
Must hear her faithless Lords Apostasy.  
The early knowledge of this dangerous Love,  
May give her means her dangers to remove.  
I'll waken all the forces of her heart,  
Rouse all her charms, her policy and art,  
To re-establish her declining power:  
I to my Trust was never false before.  
But am I false t'oppose his Crimes! to serve  
Such excellence, such greatness to preserve!  
To be his Virtues and her Honour's guard!  
Friendship's a Tyrant, if't has Laws so hard.  
But why did I see Roxolana last?  
Why was that Jewel in the Turkish Diadem placed,  
To shine so bright, and yet be prized no higher?  
Can he, whom such Rays warm,  
Be led astray by any wandering fire?  
Well are thy Ensigns, the inconstant Moon;  
Had she been destined to adorn my Throne,  
She had met a kinder Clime under a Persian Sun.  
Yet though I Love, and Love too late—  Enter Roxolana and Asteria. 
She's here!  
The story is not for Asteria's ear.  
I'll watch the favour of a private hour.  [Exit. Rox. 
There was a time when my commands had power.  Aster. 
Have they not still?  Roxol. 
Then Love that Traitor less;  
And your obedience in your scorn express.  Aster. 
Love, once by your consent my Breast did rule;  
And can your Counsels change, and not my Soul?  
No, sure; like Oracles such goodness spoke,  
Pronounced what it meant never to revoke.  
Hate, that rough Passion, Nature's worst disease,  
Should be learned only amongst Savages.  
Thoughts more refined, and words of gentler sense,  
Should be the Precepts of such Excellence.  Roxol. 
Poor Innocence, abuse yourself no more;  
Think of Revenge, and those fond tears give o'er.  Aster. 
Has Ibrahim deserved so ill of me?  Roxol. 
Can such apparent Crimes disputed be?  
Such injuries, though by th'Offenders Fate,  
You may Revenge, you ne'er can expiate.  Aster. 
Talk not of punishing so brave a Man.  
Though hopeless I, his Love must never gain;  
Call it his Fate, not Cruelty, when I  
Must for some more deserving Beauty die.  Roxol. 
Your anger and disdain should swell the more,  
For being injured on a Rival's score.  
Who can t'a meaner choice his thoughts debase,  
And wrong his life's Protectress, and the Race  
Of Solyman; a man so base and rude,  
You ought to scorn for his ingratitude.  Aster. 
Ah Royal Madam, do not lay a Crime  
Upon the just and guiltless Ibrahim.  
No doubt my Love came in too late an hour,  
When his lost heart was gone beyond his power;  
Sealed by some Vows which I must ne'er recall.  
And should I be so guilty in my fall,  
As against Heaven and Nature to repine,  
Because they have made Eyes more bright than mine?  Roxol. 
If Love, the payment of his heart withstood,  
His Honour should have paid you with his blood.  
But since he guilty lives, abhor his Name;  
If justice can't convert you, then let shame.  Aster. 
No more; already you too much have said,  
When your commands can never be obeyed:  
I ne'er can hate him; though his Loss must kill;  
My Murderer is my Loved Ibrahim still.  
The world has not that man, whose worth should buy  
My life, when I for Ibrahim can die.  
Yet me thinks Death I would not wish too near;  
I would not go to Heaven 〈◊〉 comes there.  Roxol. 
Leave me Asteria; how can I endure  
To hear those ills, my Council cannot cure?  [Ex. Asteria. Enter Ulama. Ulam. 
Pride of the World, in Beauty, Power, and Love,  
Great here below, and no less great above:  
To Solyman's Throne by Divine Justice led,  
Which gave such merit to adorn that head.  
Love, which in Turkish Kings no limits knew,  
But wide and spreading like their Ensigns flew;  
By the new Miracle your Beauty wrought,  
Its first and only constancy was taught.  
Whilst th' Emperor's wishes in a prize so rare,  
Met all the World's delight, and centred there.  Roxol. 
How Ulama! Is Roxolana's power  
Disputed, that it wants an Orator?  Ulam. 
No, Madam, there, where Empire's absolute,  
Your power all should obey, and none dispute.  
But when some black Tempestuous Vapours rise,  
And with an envious darkness shade the skies;  
We see the Sun behind a Cloud retire:  
Great lights may be Eclipsed, though ne'er expire.  
Pardon that tongue which must offend your Ear:  
And say  
There's a storm rise in Roxolana's Sphere.  
There is a Christian Beauty hither come,  
That has outdone the Arms of Christendom.  
The Turkish Crescents were Triumphant there;  
But their great Leader is a Captive here.  Roxol. 
Go on—  Ulam. 
And that which does his pains increase,  
Is, that this fair Invader of his peace  
Calls Ibrahim Lord; by a long-kindled fire,  
In mutual wishes their twin-souls conspire.  
Yet not the power of Friendship, nor the sense  
Of infinite charms, th'Almighty influence  
Of Roxolana; not this glorious piece,  
Enriched by nature at so vast a price,  
That 'tis undone; a workmanship so great.  
As Bankrupt Nature never can repeat:  
Not all this dazzling object can restrain  
Your wandering Solyman from thoughts too mean.  
Such thoughts that He, that's blessed by your fair eyes,  
And Lord of such a Treasure, should despise.  Rox. 
And are your Conquered fortunes sunk so far,  
That to revenge the injuries of War,  
Wanting the power t'oppose his arms, you dare  
Invade the Sultan's breast, t'assault him there?  
When by so insolent a Treachery,  
You would raise storms betwixt my King and Me?  
He who dares breath  
Against th'unblemished Honour of my Lord,  
That honour which has been so long adored  
By th'World and Me, not prayers nor offerings should  
From my just rage protect the bold Basphemers blood.  
But thy rude Arrogance shall boast no more  
th'Indulgence of a generous Conqueror.  
My Guards there!  [Enter Guards. 
Seize that Traitor.  [Guards, seize Ulama. Ulam. 
A command  
From you, I should not even in Death withstand:  
But for some minutes grant him a Reprieve,  
Who only for your service begs to live.  Rox. 
Served by such Treachery! Yes thy Cankered heart  
Deserves that glory, Traitor as thou art.  Ulam. 
He who dares falsely stain your Sultan's Fame,  
And impiously profane that Mighty Name;  
Deserves more Tortures than the rage of Fate  
Or Hell can give; for he deserves your hate:  
But if your altered Solyman lays by,  
Once in a Life his bright Divinity,  
For a frail thought; must he that knows, and he  
That tells the Miracle, Truth's Martyr be?  
If such I must be, let your power dispense,  
With life enough to prove my Innocence.  
It is enough my Sentence came from you,  
I would not willingly seem guilty too:  
He who from your displeasure meets his Doom,  
Needs no more weight to crush him to his Tomb.  Rox. 
Call Solyman perjured, and have a pretence,  
After that word to talk of Innocence:  Ulam. 
But Madam—  Roxol. 
Falsehood in Solyman! were't writ i'th'Stars,  
I'd not believe it: Through those Characters  
Of Night, I should Heaven's spite and malice see,  
And call their twinkling lights as false as thee.  Ulam. 
Would all I've said were false, and I that black  
And monstrous thing your anger does mistake:  
So much I Roxolana's bliss prefer  
Before Life, Fame, and all that men call dear:  
That to unite her wandering Lord and her;  
I wish by Death I could her troubles cease,  
And be that Traitor to secure her peace.  Roxol. 
Your forfeit Head— but live— for should you die  
By Death you would but end your Insamy.  
Your blood by me would be too nobly spilled:  
Live branded with my hate, and your own guilt.  Enter Asteria. Aster. 
Madam, my happy Rival is arrived,  
And with such pomp by Solyman received;  
With so much joy, as if the smiles he gave,  
Should build a Monument o'er a Daughter's Grave.  Roxol. 
What do I hear? half he has said is true.  
Release him.  [Guards release him. 
What if all should be so too?  
'Tis something strange, that Solyman should treat.  
His injured Daughter's Rival in such state:  
I feign would ask her— but a sudden chill  
Has seized my blood; something methinks I feel  
Like a cold damp came from that killing breath.  
What will the truth be then; if but the fear be death?  [Ex. all but Ulama. Ulam. 
Are scorn and hate my Services reward?  
Death with my Love compar'd's a task less hard.  
Men die with hopes of bliss, I Love with none:  
Yet still I must adore where I'm undone.  
Though by your power unworthy Solyman,  
Vain are my hopes, and endless is my pain,  
My Pride shall be, I will my Love pursue  
For less reward, with greater Faith than you.  [Exit. 
The end of the Second Act.   

ACT the THIRD.  
The SCENE, a Room of State.  Enter Ibrahim and Isabel with Women-Attendants. Ibrah. 
HIs generous Friendship that unites us now,  
Was that which did so long divide us too.  
For when as my long Services reward,  
Quitting my tiresome Honours I prepared  
To beg my Freedom, and returning home,  
To meet my only Joys in Christendom:  
One War scarce finished, still succeeded new,  
The Sultan found fresh Kingdoms to subdue:  
And whilst he had Foes t'oppose, or Crowns to gain;  
My Passion with my Honour strove in vain.  
Still studying to discharge my mighty Debt,  
I lost my Freedom by deserving it:  
By my success, to Solyman I grew  
Still more endeared, and more removed from you.  Isab. 
So much this Justice merits my Applause,  
That had you quitted such a Monarchs Cause  
Ignobly, though for me; so great a stain,  
Had made me share the wrongs of Solyman.  Enter Solyman and Morat. Solym. 
Anatolia up in Arms! I wish no more.  [to Morat. 
Rebellion ne'er was welcome till this hour.  
This Insurrection will auspicious prove,  
And aid me in my bold and dangerous Love.  
My fair Adopted, with that care and art,  [To Isab. 
I'm bound to treat such infinite desert:  
That trembling I approach, you out of fear  
To lose that favour which I prize so dear;  
When my Necessity my Tongue must force,  
To make a short, but an unkind Divorce.  
Start not at what your pleasure my withstand;  
'Tis only my request, not my command.  
But if fair Isabel would dispense  
With Ibrahim's absence to revenge his Prince.  
I'd beg my Valiant Ibrahim's Sword of you;  
The Insolent Natolians to subdue.  
His presence their Allegiance will restore,  
Who felt his Conquering Arm so late before.  
And though a while he does his Joys delay,  
he'll come more glorious to his Nuptial day.  Isabel. 
When Solyman's Honour, or his Dangers call,  
My Right's so little, and my power so small:  
I can't, or if I could, I should not stay  
Their hands, who at your feet their Laurels lay.  
Go fight, and conquer to adorn that brow:  
Pay your vast debt to this great Monarch due.  [to Ibrah. 
Whatever my own private sufferings be,  
When 'tis t'advance your Fame, I ought to see  
Him rather die for you, than live for me.  to Solym. Solym. 
Illustrious Maid, fear not his safe return.  
Heaven for your merit must have such concern,  
That if his own yet matchless courage could  
Not bring him safely back, your wishes would  Ibrah. 
My Pride, and my Devotion should embrace  
That glorious task, which your Imperial Grace,  
Upon your Creature, and your Slave confers,  
But thus t'assert your Fame would ruin Hers:  Solym. 
How Ibrahim.  Ibrah. 
Great Sir, the very sound  
Of a Seraglio will her Honour wound.  
Virgins their Fame so cautiously support,  
That she's not safe, though lodged in Solyman's Court.  
I therefore beg our speedy Nuptials may  
Drive both her Dangers, and my Fears away.  
And till our Stars my safe return decree,  
My Palace may her Sanctuary be.  
But if the chance of War has not designed  
My Life, as Fortune is not always kind:  
I at my destiny shall less repine,  
To think my Isabel once was mine;  
Adding the thoughts of one days bliss below,  
To that Eternity to which I go.  Solom. 
I can forgive thy fear, though 'tis unjust.  
My well-known Virtue checks that vain distrust:  
That Constancy which long has been my Fame,  
And rendered a Seraglio but a name.  
Yet ere you go, I would complete your Bliss:  
But Honour which commands that, hinders this.  
So bright must Isabella's Nuptials shine,  
And I so great Solemnities design;  
That the o're-hasty Cause which calls you hence,  
Does too few hours for that great work dispense.  Ibrah. 
Our Nuptials with less State—  Solym. 
It is unkind  
To think so ill of what's so well designed:  
You slight my favours when you treat me so.  Ibrah. 
That word has silenced me. If I must go,  
And go, ere I the Sacred tie can bind,  
Of th'unsealed Treasure that I leave behind,  
I make a Deed of Trust to Solyman.  [gives her to Solym. 
Here in my absence as a Father Reign.  
To my great Lord her safety I resign:  
Whilst I subdue your World, do you guard mine.  Solym. 
Guard her! that charge not her best Angels can.  
Perform, with half the Zeal of Solyman.  
Oh Ibrahim! could thy Innocence but guess,  
With how much guilt I this fair charge possess!  
'Twould chill thy blood, and make an Ague there,  
As great as is the burning fever here.  Aside 
Methinks I in your looks discern a pain,  
That begs this gift some minutes back again.  
Take her: Till that just right's performed, I'm gone:  
Your parting Love admits no lookers on.  [gives her again to Ibrahim. 
Conquest and Arms on him I did bestow,  
To raise him once, but to destroy him now.  
Love of all passions is the most Divine,  
But when encompassed with such Crimes as mine,  
By th'numerous frailties that attend it, then  
When we come next to Gods, we are but men.  Aside. [Exit Solym. and Morat. Isabel. 
I bid you go; but guard your precious Life;  
For endless, if you die, will be my grief.  
I shall be left in a strange Court unknown,  
Where my dear Fame my suffer, when you're gone.  
Nay worse; left in a World, not worth my care  
Or thought, when once my Ibrahim's not there.  Ibrah. 
Beauty and Love so fair a Seat ne'er held.  
Were not the Constant Sultan's bosom sealed;  
Were not his Heart, his Roxoland's prize,  
I should suspect the Magic of your Eyes.  Isabel. 
Could Solyman be false, and by my power,  
Though absent, nay, though dead, yet rest secure:  
Fear not in Heaven assaults against her Love,  
Which Crowns can't buy, nor Fate itself remove.  
But could he Love, there's little danger here.  
What e'er their power is when my Ibrahim's near;  
He'll find, when you are absent, in these Eyes,  
More to move pity, than gain Victories.  Ibrah. 
Surprising Virtue; so much Ecstasy  
In our next happy meeting I foresee:  
Did not the pain of parting make it less,  
My joys would even grow fatal by th'excess.  
But if the distant prospect is so clear,  
How dazzling will the bliss be when 'tis near?  Isabel. 
When you are gone, as 'tis resolved you mast:  
My tears in solitude will be so just;  
And I'll perform my Love's sad Rites so well,  
As shall convert a Palace to a Cell:  
And if the War should take your Life away;  
(But oh far distant be that fatal day.)  
From Courts, and from the tiresome world I'll fly,  
And your just mourner in a Cloister die.  Ibrah. 
Oh matchless Faith! They who would search about  
The World, to find thy Virtue's equal out:  
Must take a Journey longer than the Sun,  
And Pilgrims die, e'er half their race is run.  [Enter Asteria. 
Asteria here!  Isabel. 
Do I my Rival see?  
Is this the Beauty you refused for me?  Aster. 
Fair envied Maid! 'Tis not enough that you  
Should only Conquer, you must Triumph too.  
Your Beauty has no little Trophy won,  
When it is praised by her it has undone:  
See here a Monarch's mourning Daughter brought  
To speak the glories by a Rival wrought:  
Mrs. of more than all the World can boast;  
Mrs. of all Asteria's hopes have lost.  Isabel. 
Can so much Beauty mourn? If there's that Breast  
That can the force of those fair Eyes resist,  
The fault's in Fortune, not your want of power:  
I saw him first, and in the luckiest hour:  
You only came too late to gain that heart;  
And are in chance Outrivalled, not desert:  
But am I safe against such charms? I view  
Fresh dangers in the Wonders lodged in you.  Aster. 
O do not fear that I'd invade your right:  
I would not make him wretched, if I might:  
If Destiny could e'er have made me His,  
His Soul all mine; in that high state of bliss,  
I should have pitied Kings; thought Crowns less dear;  
To command worlds, not worth obeying here.  
But could he now be mine, the dearer joy  
He lost in you, would his Life's peace destroy.  
But know I'd ne'er cloud him to make me shine;  
I would not shake his peace, though to crown mine.  Ibrah. 
Mirror of Virtue! stop those Tears, and treat  
Ingratitude at a much juster rate:  
Your hate and scorn should my deserts repay,  
Cast not so ill those sacred Pearl away.  Aster. 
Not mourn for Ibrahim! yes! and die▪ but if  
Fate for a while protects my weary Life,  
'Tis only lent me to be kind to you:—  Ibrah. 
No longer this astonishing theme pursue.  Aster. 
O Sir, there hangs a Comet o'er your head,  
A threatning Star in gloomy horrors spread.  Isabel. 
Say, Madam, what's that Ruin that's so near;  
Dangers are his Familiars, but not fear.  Aster. 
My Cruel Father— oh that Sacred Name!  
None but a Daughter to pronounce his shame!  
My Father, Sir, has laid his Virtue down,  
Has shaded all the lustre of his Crown.  
And in that black degenerate disguise,  
Has seen his Ibrahim's Saint with impious eyes.  Ibrah. 
Tortures and Hell!  Isabel. 
Oh would this sound of Death,  
Had found a passage from some Villain's breath;  
Some Infidel or Hellish minister:  
There might be hopes then my deluded ear  
Had been abused, and some bribed Traitor spoke;  
But there's too great Credentials in that look.  Ibrah. 
Quick, quick, dear Madam, Kill apace; go on.  
Say, what black hour this Cruelty begun?  
How fatally the sudden Tempest rise,  
That would put out my light, and Eclipse his.  Aster. 
To Ulama he has revealed his shame,  
'Tis from his Mouth, the fatal secret came:  
And that your sight may not his hopes debar,  
He takes th'occasion of th'approaching War  
To make his passage free; whilst you are sent  
To conquer, 'tis a splendid banishment.  
But fly dear Sir, leave an Inhuman Court,  
Where glorious ills their gaudy pomp support.  
Fly to some kinder Clime,  
Where both from dangers and from fears removed,  
For ever Love, and be for ever Loved;  
Free from all Jealousy, Cares, and distrust,  
Live a long happy Life when I am Dust.  
And Madam, do not think I am unkind  [To Isabel. 
In courting him to leave his powers behind,  
And all his Honours quit: You, who can dwell  
Securely with such merit in a Cell;  
Will make your Joys the loss of Crowns supply,  
If you but love him half so well as I.  Isabel. 
Great Solyman has found an early Heir;  
Virtue has left his breast t'inhabit here.  Aster. 
But when I bid you fly, and from all harms,  
Remove you to be safe in Ibrahims' Arms:  
I make you happy, but with all the pain  
Despairing Love and bleeding hearts sustain.  
Forced by my Piety and Love, I must  
A Rival bless to make a Father just:  Ibrah. 
But Madam, when she's safe, safe in my power,  
From splendid Jails, and Rival Kings secure:  
Then what requital can I make, who owe  
My Life, and all that makes Life dear to you.  Aster. 
The payment I shall ask, will easy be;  
Only remember you were saved by me:  
And if my Memory be worth your care,  
Then I'm o'er paid for all my favours here.  Ibrah. 
Fear not my payment then if that be all,  
On you, as on my Tutelar Saint I'll call.  Aster. 
What you resolve, must instantly be done,  
Whilst we discourse the precious minutes run.  
Morat, and his Confederates haunt this ground,  
And even her Guards already watch her round.  
But for her safety I have found the way.  Ibrah. 
Speak Author of my Heaven, and I'll obey.  Aster. 
You know what Turkish custom  
Has with th'Imperial Daughters long prevailed;  
A Sultaness ne'er walks abroad Unveiled:  
She then by my retinue and my shape,  
Shall in my borrowed Veil make an escape:  
My Women I've engaged t'attend her flight.  
And to avoid all dangers by my sight.  
To keep the Cheat from all discovery,  
Till she's gone safe; I will her place supply.  Isabel. 
I must not buy my freedom at that rate,  
Expose you to incur your Father's hate.  
Have I no other way t'attain my bliss?  Aster. 
What other way? or where's the fault in this?  Isabel. 
If on no other ground my safety's built,  
I must refuse that Bliss t'avoid this Guilt.  Aster. 
Were I to fly with Ibrahim, I should find,  
Not half these Arguments to stay behind.  Isabel. 
Rather than let my Guardian be undone,  
I'll perish by that storm I must not shun:  
Tortures and Death's the worst, and those I'll bear,  
Rather than sin against my Honour here.  Aster. 
I am his Daughter, and have power t'assuage,  
With a few Tears an angry Father's rage:  
But you he Loves, Loves with a lawless flame,  
And no small power can violent passions tame.  Ibrah. 
Madam, the kind Sultana's gift embrace;  
Stop not the Torrent of her Royal Grace.  Isabel. 
Must she then stay to suffer in my place?  
Must I requite her with returns so rude,  
And buy my safety with ingratitude?  Aster. 
Oh fly Sir, I conjure you do not stay;  
Will you not once, not once my will obey:  
You'll pay a Life's obedience to her power,  
And shall not I command you for an hour?  Ibrah. 
Let not her soft entreaties be withstood,  
Since she like Heaven is pleased with doing good:  
To her a Father cannot be unkind;  
The breach your absence makes, her prayers may bind.  Isabel. 
Were I assured her dangers were not great:  
'Twere hard when she commands, and you entreat;  
T'oppose such force—  Aster. 
Have I the Conquest won?  
Now all my business in the World is done:  
I cannot fall more low, nor raise you higher.  Ibrah. 
Farewell!  
And generous excellence, when we retire,  
Obliged by goodness as this vast excess,  
We're happy. but must blush at Happiness—  Aster. 
Stay yet: If I must never see you more,  
One favour let my breaking heart implore:  
When Miser-like, you with a greedy eye,  [to Isabel. 
Seize those kind looks for which I mourn and die:  
Amidst your scenes of Joy shall Ibrahim be  
Permitted but to steal one sigh for me?  Isabel. 
Permit his Sighs, yes, and command'em too:  
By my Commission he shall pay that due.  Aster. 
And when I'm dead— (but I shall ask too far!)  
Shall He  
At poor Asteria's Name let fall a Tear?  Isabel. 
A thousand! But be far that hour removed:  
Such virtue must of Heaven be more beloved;  
Then t'have a Reign so short: yet if we shall  
Survive the generous Asteria's fall:  
Doubt not the pious Tribute of his Tears,  
My Eyes shall be his griefs Remembrancers.  
Each Sigh he takes, each Tear he sheds shall warm  
My Breast, and to our Loves be a fresh charm.  Aster. 
And will you do all this?  [to Ibrah. Ibrah. 
Do't, with as true  
A Zeal, as the famed Vestals ever knew:  
With Piety more constant and entire  
Your ashes I'll adore, than they their fire.  Aster. 
Now I have all my wishes dare implore:  
You cannot grant, nor must I ask you more:  
But Sir, if e'er  
You are distressed again (which Heaven forbid!)  
Call on my Name: I'll be your Guard, though dead;  
For sure in Love there is so strong a tie,  
That even my Ghost will be as kind as I.  [Exit Ibra. and Isabel. with Asteria's Attendants. 
Oh Isabel! thus to set thee free,  
What has Love done for him, despair for thee?  
I've given hopes, happiness, and life away,  
And dearly for that generous act must pay:  
I in his absence feel his killing power;  
Alas! my Ruin was too near before:  
Yet now as if it came too slowly paced,  
I have turned Prodigal to make more haste.  
Music directed here! what can this mean?  A Song is sung from within. 

SONG.  
No Art Loves Influence can destroy.  
In vain would Captive Kings their Chains unloose,  
When the blind Boy  
The Thunderer himself could ne'er oppose.  
Dressed up in various forms his Heaven he left,  
And practised in disguise the amorous theft.  
But if Omnipotence so changed could be,  
Fair Celia wonder not to see  
Thy Vassal as disguised and as transformed as he.   Aster. 
Oh! now I find the mystery! 'tis plain.  
This entertainment came from Solyman.  
No, King, were thy intended Victim here,  
In vain you'd court her sense, and treat her ear:  
She who possesses Ibrahim's heart—  
Her thoughts no room for such mean charms can yield,  
Her Breast is with more noble Raptures filled.  Enter Solyman and Morat. 
My Father here!  
This sight drives all my blasted hopes away;  
Can his wild passion brook no longer stay?  [Absconds herself amongst Isabella's Women. Solym. 
th'ascent is dangerous, and no common care,  
Nor hasty steps can make approaches there:  
I must with wide and distant Courtship move,  
Before I sally out and call it Love.  [Approaches and finds Asteria. 
Asteria! Torture of my Soul! what's here—  [Aside. 
Where is the Christian Princess—  
Oh my fear!—  [Aside. Aster. 
Your Pardon Royal Sir.  Solym. 
My Love's disclosed!  
And all my Guilt and Infamy exposed.  [Aside. 
Where is she?  Aster. 
Pardon an act of Piety and Love,  
When I to guard your Honour, durst remove  
A threatened Rival.  Solym. 
Ravished from my power!  
And my own Daughter a Conspirator—  [Aside. 
Effeminate Virtue, hence; fly from my sight.  Aster. 
Can Solyman in Cruelty delight?  
No, be as just as I.  Solym. 
Cease thy fond grief;  
Be gone, and to thy absence owe thy Life.  Aster. 
Then I retire: Not for the fear of Death;  
That I can bear, but not your angry breath—  [Ex. Aster. Solym. 
This fatal story must take Air from you:  [To Mor. 
How came my Love discovered? Traitor how?  
If 'twas thy Tongue that durst the secret tell,  
Thou hadst better had thy soul as deep in Hell,  
As I'm beneath the Stars, than speak that word.  Mor. 
I tell the Secrets of my Sacred Lord!  
By all that's good to Heaven, I'm not so true,  
Not half so constant to my prayers as you.  Solym. 
How got she hence? where is she?  Mor. 
To me, it no less Riddle did appear,  
To find her gone; than see Asteria here:  
If my eyes failed me not, some minutes since  
I saw this very Lady part from hence;  
And led by Ibrahim—  Solym. 
Then she has made escape  
By the assistance of Asteria's shape:  
Fly, seize'em both; and bring'em Prisoners here.  
Do it, as thou lov'st happiness; find her,  
Or lose thy Life and Me.  Enter Roxolana and Mirva. 
My Guards are thine:  
Show me that Face again, or ne'er see mine.  Roxol. 
You were discoursing: Royal Sir; go on:  
I will be silent till my Lord has done.  
For Monarchs sure should speak such Sacred things,  
That all should listen to the Voice of Kings.  Solym. 
Am I with shame on every side beset;  
This Face I till this hour with pleasure met.  [Aside. Roxol. 
I durst not, Sir, have ventured to appear  
Within this place, were the fair Christian here:  
But in her absence I am bolder grown,  
The meanest Star looks out when the Sun's gone.  Solym. 
Is it your Wit or Anger makes you thus  
Severe, against our Christian Guest, and us?  Roxol. 
Sultan, it is my Ruin brings me here,  
The Evening of my glorious Day draws near.  
From all my long blessed hours and shining light,  
I take the prospect of Eternal Night.  Solym. 
Whence Roxolana should this fear proceed?  
And by what Fate is this black Change decreed?  Roxol. 
How Sultan! Can you Kill me, and not know  
The cruel hand that gives the fatal blow?  
Th'effect is but too sure, too plain the cause,  
When his kind smiles my altered Lord withdraws.  Solym. 
Why to yourself will you such pains contract,  
And fear those injuries I scorn to act?  
If from my Smiles your greatness takes its Fate,  
I will Smile on, since that supports your State.  Roxol. 
Nay then I feel my certain Destiny:  
Are empty Smiles all you have left for me?  
Sultan! that's not your Love, but Charity.  
And of your Charity must I the object grow?  
Can Roxolana have a fall so low?  
Christian, thou hast performed a Tyrant's part,  
To make this change in my dear Sultan's heart.  Solym. 
Well Empress! Since such powerful Tears I find,  
To mourning Roxolana I'll be kind.  Roxol. 
O my faint hopes!  Solym. 
Dissembling in a King,  
Would be too abject and too base a thing.  
And therefore I this favour will impart,  
I'll give you the true Picture of my Heart:  
I Love that Princess—  Roxol. 
O my Death!  Solym. 
And to that height that nothing can remove,  
My resolution to pursue my Love:  
I'll prosecute all the long-practised Arts  
That Majesty e'er found to conquer Hearts.  Roxol. 
Nay, now you are more Cruel than before.  
Was't not enough I did your Loss deplore?  
But t'heighten my despair, must your own breath,  
To make my fall more loud, proclaim my Death?  
'T had been enough t'have met a silent Doom.  
Must the black Cloud have Thunder in its Womb?  Solym. 
Why is your Fall and Death by Solyman wrought?  
By Heaven I've no such malice in my thought.  
My thoughts flow purer: No black stream runs here.  
Love fills my breast, and makes the Current clear:  
And Love that's the impetuous Tide of Souls,  
No Majesty, no Sacred name controls.  
But from its power its Innocence does hold,  
As th'Acts of Heaven are good, because they're uncontrolled.  Roxol. 
There was a Time! (but oh  
That Roxolana lives to speak that word!)  
When my still Loved, and my once loving Lord  
Vowed an Eternity of Faith to Me;  
And called on Heaven to witness that Decree;  
But now unkindly does that Heaven invoke,  
To see his Vows and Sacred Promise broke.  
The Days, the Seasons, and the Years go on,  
And Nature her unaltered course does run:  
But why's not the United World unhinged,  
When that bright Virtue, which should rule't, is changed.  
Since Honour can be Violated there,  
Why does not Nature your Confusion share?  
Is Soliman's World more constant than its Lord?  Solym. 
'Tis true: I gave you my imperial word  
To Love you, and have done it to the height:  
Beauty was never treated in more State:  
A Nuptial tie, and sharer in a Throne,  
To all my Predecessors was unknown.  Roxol. 
Yes Sir; you raised me to a Crown, forsook  
The rude delights your wild Forefathers took.  
When from the feeble Charms of multitude,  
And change, your heart with one pure flame endued,  
Was all entire to Roxolana given:  
As Converts quit Idolatry for Heaven.  
To that I owed my Happiness; but know,  
'Tis to that too, I do my Ruin owe.  Solym. 
Death; how she tortures me? Is this  
Diversion for a Lover in my pain?  [aside. 
No news of Isabel here again?  Roxol. 
Had Solyman loved like other Turkish Kings,  
And I been one of those same suffering things,  
Who as your Slaves, your scattered favours caught,  
I in the crowd had had no higher thought.  
But from that hour I was the Sultan's Wife,  
My Soul grew with the glories of my Life.  
My infinite Knowledge makes my pains excess:  
Remembrance is the Plague of Greatness in distress.  Solym. 
When to those eyes I swore I would be true,  
'Twas to the World's Variety in you.  
All your whole Sex for you I did forsake,  
Who, had all that Beauty which they joined could make.  
And as I constantly performed that Vow,  
For the same reason I am altered now.  
Then call me not inconstant, nor unkind,  
Who greater charms in Isabel find—  [Ex. Solym. Roxol. 
Neglected was too much! but slighted too!  
Who could expect these barbarous wrongs from you?  
Sultan, what e'er thy falsehood shall design,  
My Lustre through thy hate and scorn shall shine.  
Just Gods!  
Defend my Virtue; Guard my sacred Fame,  
Than whom none nearer to your Godheads came:  
Do't, as your Honour and your Powers divine:  
Prove your own Greatness by your care of mine.  Miru. 
Doubt not th'Immortal Justice in your Cause.  
Since your Apostate Lord his heart withdraws;  
Heaven will Revenge the wrongs to such a Saint:  
If there can be a greater punishment,  
Then th'offence; to hold so rich, so bright  
A Treasure, and want sense to value it.  Roxol. 
False though he is—  
So much respect is to his greatness due,  
I may impeach his Treasons, but not you.  Miru. 
But say the World could yield as great a Man  
In Birth, in Love, more great than Solyman;  
Who did for Roxolana's Beauty die,  
And with a Love as Innocent, as high;  
That wished no greater a reward t'obtain,  
Than his fair Murderers pity of his pain.  
Could you permit—  Roxol. 
That He should tell me so?  Miru. 
Only to ease your grief, and let you know  
Your Love is not unfortunate alone:  
Since there are miseries beyond your own.  Roxol. 
If such a Traitor to my Fame there be,  
That thinks Love Innocent, when spoke to me:  
Conceal his Name, as you would guard your Life.  
But if a silent Death can ease his grief,  
Let him Love on, and die without my frown.  
For if his Insolence his Love dares own,  
And breath th'aspiring thought, he shall receive,  
The cruelest Doom that Hate and Rage can give.  Enter Ulama. Miru. 
Take heed, Great Sir, suppress your dangerous flame,  
There's Death and Ruin in the very Name:  [aside to Ulam. Ulam. 
Fair Empress, They, who so much Beauty meet,  
Ought to strew Flowers and Laurels at your Feet.  
The voice of Triumph should your ears delight;  
But I approach you like those Birds of Night;  
Which hovering near great Palaces, still come  
With their harsh Notes t'express some threat'ning doom.  
Such your hard Fortune is, and such is mine.  
Your cruel Lord (but oh that Fate should join  
With Cruelty!) by his wild passion led,  
Has seized the Christian Princess as she fled:  Roxol. 
More weight to my destruction!—  Ulam. 
How much this accident, may his fierce rage,  
'Gainst an Offending Rivals Life engage,  
Is yet not fully known: Only thus far  
He, has given away the Conduct of the War  
From Ibrahim. Such Madam is my fear  
For you, so great my dread of dangers here;  
That though my Vows and Prayers pay you that Debt  
Which all Mankind does owe; and to complete  
Your glory, wish you all your power can meet:  
The World at your Command, and Monarchs at your Feet:  
Yet whilst th'imaginary pomp goes on,  
And my fierce Zeal exalts you on a Throne,  
As high as Heaven, and no less glorious too.  
Not all these thoughts can guild my fears for you.  Roxol. 
Obliging Prince; so great has been your sense,  
Both of my Wrongs, and of my Innocence;  
That in return of such a generous part,  
I'll trust you with the secrets of my heart.  
This false, unkind, ungrateful Solyman,  
Does o'er my heart that absolute Monarch reign,  
That to whatever Crimes his Rage dares fly:  
My Love's Immortal, though my Power can die.  
So th'Indian Worship's the Infernal powers,  
And perishes by that which he adores.  [Exit. Ulam. 
How mortal would this sound of horror be  
To one that Loved, unless he Loved like me?  
Her Virtue to her Beauty lends new fire,  
And both their charms I equally admire.  Miru. 
I've used my power; but your vain hopes forbear.  
Should but the name of Love reach her chaste ear,  
Her pride & scorn would into Vengeance fly—  [Ex. Ulam. 
I thank her for so just a Cruelty.  
And blush to think I durst her Virtue try.  
For could she yield to hear one sigh from me,  
Her Vows and Nuptial Faith would injured be.  
And true Love were a stranger to my breast,  
If I could wish her Ill to make me blessed.  
Be Constant still, and all my pride shall be,  
To Reconcile thy Faithless Lord and Thee.  
For since I must expect those wounds she gave,  
Will quickly bring me drooping to my Grave:  
My unstained soul will then Triumphant fly,  
When thus for the World's Empress I shall die.  
Others Love only as their Hope stands fair,  
But I Love on to propagate despair.  [Exit. 
The End of the Third Act.   

ACT the FORTH.  
The SCENE, the Seraglio.  Enter Isabel Guarded by Morat and other Attendants. Morat. 
PArdon an act of Violence from his Hand,  
Who only Executes his King's Command.  Enter Solyman. Solym. 
Fair Cruelty! how could you fly from him,  
Whose only fault was Love, and that's a Crime,  
The Gods must pardon, for they practise it.  
Love even in Paradise does Triumphant sit.  Isabel. 
How can you thus the name of Love profane?  
Give no more breath to words of such a strain,  
Than you would lend a Tongue to Blasphemy.  Solym. 
Can you make wounds so deep you start to see?  
And wilfully be deaf to all my pain:  
To Sighs sent from the heart, in which you reign?  
Some pity of your Captives tortures take,  
That breathe but like Concessions from a Wrack.  
The Gods are only to the Damned so strict,  
To shut their Ears'gainst Torments they inflict.  Isabel. 
Is this a Father's Voice? Is this a Friend  
To Ibrahim? Can Majesty descend  
T'a Crime so low, the meanest Slaves have scorned?  
Were we for this with splendid names adorned?  
He called your Son, and I your Daughter made,  
Only to be more cruelly betrayed!  Solym. 
'Tis true, I gave him all I had power to give,  
I bid him happy in your favour live:  
And ignorantly passed that blind Decree,  
Till in your Loss I did my Ruin see,  
Your powerful form pressed nearer to my soul,  
And thence my Peace and Sovereign freedom stole:  
My fancy painted all the joys of life in you;  
And in your loss ten thousand horrors drew.  Isabel. 
Oh Cruel King! how can you wound my ear  
With those dire sounds I scarce have life to hear:  
When the most sacred Vows you dare invade,  
That Heaven e'er heard, or Lovers ever made!  Solym. 
How Merciless can you your power disguise,  
Can you that question ask, and wear those Eyes?  Isabel. 
If from their Influence your guilt arise:  
Wou'd'I had been born of some black Aethiop-race,  
Wor'n a dark Veil of Nature o'er my Face:  
And for the want  
Of outward force which Ibrahims' heart should blind,  
Had caught him only with a beauteous mind.  
Thus free from dangerous eyes, and fading charms,  
My peace secured from a Wild King's Alarms;  
You had not then my Persecutor turned,  
Nor the fair Injured Roxolana mourned.  
We had lived safe from Tortures and despair,  
Not wronged by th'Great, nor envied by the Fair.  Solym. 
Are you so faithful then to Ibrahim,  
That you would rob the World in Love to him;  
To wish those eyes obscure? yet if they were,  
Had those eyes been, those twins of light, less fair;  
Then Crowns and Empires might my peace have bought,  
And a wide World had filled my bounded thought.  Isabel. 
Oh hold! this too unkind discourse give o'er—  
My Ibrahim's dear, but my bright Honour more.  
Think how you do not only injure him,  
Conspire against your once Loved Ibrahim:  
But whilst I'm forced to hear the frightful name,  
Of Impious Love, you wound my tender Fame.  Solym. 
If of your Honour you so tender prove,  
Express it by your scorn of Ibrahim's Love.  
You only wrong your Fame in loving him,  
(Unworthy as he is)— but end that Crime.  Isabel. 
Oh Heaven! what do I hear?  Solym. 
He is a Thief!  
A Traitor! for a mean and base relief,  
Against my dangerous Love, he stole you hence.  Isabel. 
If thats a Crime, 'Twas mine, not his offence.  
Your black designs had made me dread your sight  
So much, I used not only Prayers t'invite,  
But my Commands to make him aid my flight.  Solym. 
Fair Torturer of my soul, since you could be  
So kind to him, and so severe to me;  
Expiate that sin, of which you are the cause:  
His head is forfeit by the Turkish Laws.  
Now if you love him, reconcile our strife:  
Your heart's the only Ransom of his Life.  
'Tis true, I'm led by passion to disclaim  
My Virtue, wrong my Friendship, stain my Fame:  
I see the Precipice, but cannot stay:  
Love runs me down, and drives my soul away.  
My Passion for that Beauty is so high,  
This I resolve, this I must do, or die.  Isabel. 
In vain you threaten me with Ibrahims' Death.  
Think not my long inviolable Faith,  
Poorly at last will be o'ercome by Fear.  
No Sir! there's no such weak Dominion here.  
Tho you can aim Your fury at his Heart,  
To persecute Me in the tenderest part:  
Tho Ibrahims' Life I prize above my own,  
Think as much worth lodged in that Breast alone,  
As Mankind e'er possessed, or Heaven e'er gave;  
Yet even his Life I would not basely save.  Solym. 
Gods! must I find  
A Heart so fixed, and Virtue so sublime:  
Has my bold Love such craggy way to climb?  Isabel. 
Hope not t'assault me there, rather than he  
Should live to see me perjured, I would see  
Him bleed; see him in purple horror died;  
See the dear Lord of all my hopes destroyed:  
Nor think this Doom in cruelty designed;  
No; His just Love would rather call it kind.  Solym. 
Oh my distraction!  Isabel. 
But whilst I stay  
To prove my Virtue, I my Virtue wrong,  
And my chaste ear has guilty been too long.  
Here Jailor, to my Prison take me hence,  [to Mo●. 
Now you may act a welcome violence.  Solym. 
Stay Madam!  Isabel. 
I can hear no more, in vain—  Solym. 
Oh Madam! stay one minute, and t'obtain  
That favour, Ibrahim shall live, and live  
To see me wretched, till he sees you give  
My mortal wound; as but too soon you will:  
For so much scorn can do no less than kill.  
When those fair Eyes shall like a winter-Sun,  
Give only light, not life; whose influence gone,  
All things below, decayed and withered turn,  
And drooping Nature does his distance mourn.  
When thus my blasted greatness shall decay,  
And by your frowns my life shall droop away;  
My pains, my griefs, my horrors shall be such,  
As shall so near my generous Vizier touch,  
Till my sad state his softened pity move,  
And pity grant what is denied by Love.  
Till his compassion does my life defend,  
And quit a Mistress to preserve a Friend.  Isabel. 
Do not his Constancy so much mistake;  
Yet if for you he could my Love forsake:  
That heart which justly as his falsehoods due,  
I took from him, I could not give to you.  
Though you such Irreligous thoughts admit,  
Your Honour and your Nuptial Vows forget,  
I cannot—  Solym. 
Is Religion then my Foe?  
And does my Married state my hopes o'erthrow?  
That shall not cloud the glories of your life.  
You shall be mine, a Christian, and a Wife.  Isabel. 
Defend me Heaven! what's this?  Solym. 
You shall in state be to a Temple led;  
I'll take the Crown from Roxolana's Head.  
Thus, you shall meet my Love—  Isabel. 
'Twas too much crime alone  
T'oppose my Vows: would you deface your own?  
Break your long Faith to Roxolana given,  
And by your rage thus doubly injure Heaven?  Solym. 
I injure Heaven; no, you mistake me now;  
I am pious, not profane in what I do.  
What greater homage can to heaven be paid  
Then with Imperial Crowns t'adorn the Head  
Of the Divinest Creature it e'er made.  Isabel. 
Oh! let me go! this place of horror fly,  
Send me t'a dungeon, to a Grave, to die,  
Rather than stay to heighten your impiety.  Solym. 
Retire then, since my presence is a sin,  
But Cruel, Fair, when we shall meet again,  
Assume a mercy that befits that brow.  Isabel. 
If I must find you as I leave you now,  
Meet me no more; nor time, nor force employ,  
Against that Faith no power can e'er destroy.  
And for those Tales of Death you seem to fear,  
Attend my frowns, there's no such danger near.  
Despair in guilty Loves ne'er soars so high:  
None but just Lovers, love enough to die.  [Exit Guarded. Solym. 
Was ever scorn so high? or King, so low?  Mor. 
To Constancy you all this rudeness owe.  
But if you ere expect to be beloved,  
The causes of this scorn must be removed.  
Ibrahim must die; and though 'twill seem severe,  
To take that life which once you held so dear:  
Yet since his Life has th'hopes of yours debarred,  
His Destiny can be your only Guard.  
This is the way will take: Her Lover dead,  
And the Crown taken from your Empress' head:  
Though some few tears may fall at Ibrahim's death,  
Marriage and Crowns will tempt her Christian Faith.  
This only course your desperate Love secures—  Solym. 
And this dark course I'll take.  Mor. 
Do: and She's yours.  Solym. 
For Love o'ercomes, and I must kill or die.  
Let it be done ere I think how, or why.  
Haste; Let the news of Ibrahim's Death be brought,  [Exit Morat. 
And whilst he's dying I'll divert the thought:  
With a forced Lethargy I'll damp my soul,  
Friendship may else return, and my resolves control.  
O Love! what is thy power— Morat return,  
He must not die.  [Morat Re enters. 
He must not die.  
I have by Alla sworn  
That he shall never bleed whilst Solyman lives.  Mor. 
Is it the voice of Majesty Reprieves  
An Enemy, a destroyer of your peace?  
Can humble penitence great Spirits seize?  Solym. 
No: I would have him still destroyed, but if  
I must be Perjured when I take his Life,  
I must protect his Life, though against mine.  
Though Love can yield to any lesser sin:  
That Oath I must not; no, I cannot break.  Mor. 
Your Oath is strong, when your resolves are weak.  Solym. 
Had I by Alla sworn to quit my Crown,  
So bound, I ought to lay my Sceptre down;  
And yield a Throne without a sigh—  Mor. 
But Sir.—  
Even Kings themselves sometimes may chance to err;  
And you would impute Cruelty to Heaven,  
If sins of Ignorance can't be forgiven.  
Perhaps those ties are less than what they seem,  
Send for the Musil, Sir, consult with him:  
He may repeal that Vow your rashness past;  
And find your promise does not bind so fast:  
Or show at least some safe, though distant means,  
To gain your quiet, and remove your pains.  Solym. 
Send for him, though I fear 'tis all in vain;  
Do any thing to bring my peace again.  [Ex. Morat. Enter at another Door, Ibrahim. 
After your mean suspicion, with what face,  
False Ibrahim, dare you approach this place.  Ibrah. 
Sir, I approach you as I ought to do;  
As one who'has lost all hopes in losing you,  
Approach you with those looks he ought to bring,  
Who hears this language from an altered King.  
My happiness in this Tempest sinks and drowns,  
I knew your smiles too well to bear your frowns.  Solym. 
How can I think you prized my smiles so high,  
When you could forfeit them so wilfully?  Ibrah. 
If the protection of my Love's a sin,  
Then condemned Ibrahim has guilty been.  
But when I Counselled my fair Saint to fly,  
I was your Champion, not your Enemy.  
I knew her Faith so well, that when from hence,  
I stole her, 'twas in Solyman's defence.  
Since her firm Vows no force could e'er destroy,  
I robbed you of a Torment, not a Joy.  Solym. 
Was ever Arrogance so high, to dare  
Thus insolently brave me with Despair!  
What though, my power's so weak, and hope so vain  
That Hate and Scorn is all I must obtain.  
Though you can think so meanly of my State,  
It is unkind t' upbraid me with my Fate.  Ibrah. 
No, Sultan, call it by another Name,  
A subjects Zeal to Guard his Sovereign's Fame.  
More worthy and more Kingly Thoughts pursue:  
How little does this change appear in You?  
When Solyman, who lately took Delight  
In Thoughts that soared above an eagle's Flight,  
Now humbly stoops t' invade his Vassals right.  Solym. 
Is it so humble to adore that Face?  
A favoured Lover and have thoughts so base?  
Since of her Power you have a Sense no higher,  
And see so little there for Kings t' Admire.  
I will convert your infidelity:  
Take her more glorious Character from me:  
By Nature she's ordained to be Obeyed:  
All Beauteous things for Sovereignty were made.  
Is not Love Kingly then, when thus my Breast it fills?  Ibrah. 
So Thunder's heavenly, but that Thunder Kills.  Solym. 
Why should you think I'll take so rough a Course;  
I'll vanquish by Entreaty not by Force.  
My Warlike Visier has in Camps been Nursed:  
In Laurels it was I that dressed you first.  
Desert not then that Air, where you were Bred:  
Fame, so long Courted, now be Kind, and Wed.  
That glorious Race so well begun pursue.  Ibrha. 
But Sir, cannot I Conquer, and Love too?  Solym. 
Can nothing but my ruin satisfy?  
Are there not charms enough in Victory?  
Take all my Forces, half my World be thine:  
And in exchange, let that one Prize be mine.  Ibrah. 
Oh, now you ask what I can ne'er resign.  
Loves that can cease, are feverish desires,  
A Thirst, which the Disease once cured, expires.  
My heart unchangeably her Image wears;  
Meteors may be extinguished, but not Stars.  Solym. 
Of Roxolana, I was once as fond,  
And loves as much; yet time has broke that Bond.  
Is Love in Me more mortal than in You?  
No, 'tis your Pride denys, because I stoop to sue.  
Were you for this Ungrateful Man, by me,  
From Death, and from inglorious chains set free;  
From below Pity above Envy raised?  
Was it not I your sullen Fate appeased;  
From your rude Ore refined you into Gold,  
And stamped you in my own Imperial Mould?  
And what my nobler Nature ought to shun,  
You force me to repeat what I have done?  Ibrahim. 
Those favours, Sir, your Vassal blushing took;  
Admired your Bounteous hand, and wonder-struck,  
With humble Veneration did adore  
Great Jove descending in a Royal shower.  Solym. 
And now that Veneration is her due.  Ibrah. 
To worship her, I'll never steal from you;  
No, to acknowledge what your smiles have done,  
Send me to Nations, yet t'your Arms unknown,  
I'll fetch you glories from the rich Peru;  
Nature her Treasures shall unlock for you.  
But if of rougher spoils you would be Lord,  
By Valiant more than shining Kings adored,  
The Savage Tartar in his frozen Zone,  
Scorched by your lightning, shall your greatness own.  
New Toils, new Labours for my Arm decree:  
Try me like Hercules, and I shall be,  
If not as great, as little tired as Herald  Solym. 
My stock of same already is so large,  
That Victories would be a mean discharge.  
Her heart would th'only pleasing payment make.  Ibrah. 
And can I yield my Princess to forsake?  
Since I want power to pay that vast demand,  
Arrest your Honours in a Bankrupts hand.  
Make me that wretched thing I was before:  
Resume your glories, and my Chains restore:  
And by my Death let all your Troubles cease;  
I've lived too long, when I disturb your Peace.  Solym. 
And that long life 'tis I can shorter make.  Ibrah. 
Oh, take it Sir: I wear it for your sake:  
Though I can never yield to quit my Love;  
Yet I can die, a Rival to remove.  
And when to Death I go, hear my last prayer;  
May Soliman's Life, Heaven, take up all your care.  Solym. 
Can Ibrahim so patiently receive  
His Doom, and with such ease his Judge forgive?  Ibrah. 
Forgive you? where's your sin? Alas your hand  
Takes but that Life you justly may demand.  
Should abject Creatures in their dying hour,  
Repine and Murmur at th'Almighty power?  
My adored King, even my last breath should rule;  
Not one ill thought should touch my parting soul.  Solym. 
Hold, generous Prince! Know what great Love can do;  
And hear a Resolution Strange, but True.  
I have no hopes that Beauty to o'ercome,  
But by your Death to make my Passion room.  
Yet in such Loyalty such power I find,  
That goodness in your face, and lustre in your mind;  
That if one look, one kind word more you give,  
'Twill soften me till I shall let you live.  
But to enable me to give the blow;  
Ibrahim, your last, but fatal Duty show  
With haste, and silence from my presence fly,  
That absent I may'have power to bid you die.  [Ex. Ibrah. 
He's gone, and has my black command obeyed;  
Yet not such Loyalty can save his head:  
To what ill deeds is desperate passion led?  Enter Morat and Mufti. Mor. 
The Mufti, Sir, your pleasure does attend.  Solym. 
Priest, for thy Council, and thy Aid I send.  
A Ravisher has robbed me of my Peace,  
And I want power to make my torment cease.  Muft. 
Who is that Ravisher, and what that Chain  
Which binds your Arm, and does your power restrain?  
Can aught rebate the Sword of Solyman?  Solym. 
My Faith, my Vows, and my Religion can:  
By Alla bound, I've made this solemn tie,  
Whilst Solyman Lives, my Vizier shall not die.  
And by his Death, I must my Peace retrieve.  Muft. 
Sir, he may die when Solyman does not live.  Solym. 
Did I for this thy Wise advice request,  
For satisfaction in my Grave? dull Priest,  
I'd live to be revenged.  Muft. 
Yes Sir, you shall— think not my Counsels bring  
Such tardy Vengeance to an Injured King.  
Death should fly quick as lightning from your frown.  
Sir, he may set before to morrow's Sun.  Solym. 
How! may he die to morrow?  Muft. 
Yes; to Night.  Solym. 
My Faith unstained?  Muft. 
Unsullied, as the Light—  
You are not by this promise bound to give  
Him immortality. 'tis whilst you live,  
You've sworn he shall not meet his destiny;  
But there are hours each day in which you die.  
Sir! whilst you sleep you are not living.  Solym. 
How?  Muft. 
To Sense and Reason man his Life does owe;  
And when Sleep dams them up, they cease to flow.  
The soul deserts the body when it dies,  
What does it less in sleep? it useless lies.  
Death's its retreat, and sleep is its disguise.  
Sleep equals Kings, and Shepherds; Rich and Poor;  
Nor can the power of Death itself do more.  
And where's their difference?  
Both give one stroke, only one strikes more deep;  
Sleeps a short Death— Death an Eternal sleep:  
If then whilst you are sleeping, he receives  
The blow, he does not die whilst Solyman lives.  Solym. 
And will our Prophet this Revenge maintain,  
And the Immortal Name take off all stain?  Muft. 
So just a cause he does, and must defend.  Solym. 
Then dear Religion, thou'rt a Lover's Friend:  
Kind Priest, my judgement does with thine conspire:  
'Tis easy to believe what we desire.  
But if his Death's a sin; the Crime be yours:  
When our Guides stray, the Error is not ours.  
Send him the Mourning Robe: He dies to Night.  Exit Morat. Enter Asteria. 
Ibrahim, fare well; and may thy soul take flight  
To Paradise. There be as blessed above,  
As thou were't here in Isabella's Love.  Aster. 
Oh Cruelty! who's he that in one breath  
Can talk of Paradise and Ibrahim's Death?  Mor. 
I do not like her presence.—  [Aside. Aster. 
Royal Sir,  
Forgive me, if my fears have made me err:  
Perhaps I have not rightly understood;  
For you were always just, and God like good.  
Is it your pleasure Ibrahim should die?  Solym. 
My Injuries give him his Death, not I  Aster. 
Can you speak Death again? a Crime so great,  
Twice in one day, one hour, one voice repeat?  
The sound of so much horror, and such rage,  
Had singly been enough to brand an Age.  
Oh say, that you deceived me, and to try  
My Courage, told me Ibrahim should die.  
I would my reason and my sense distrust;  
Rather than think that you can be unjust.  Solym. 
False to thy blood, thus to oppose my will;  
Whence comes that heat that does these tears distil,  
Which fall when I a Criminals doom decree?  Aster. 
Your Passion is that Criminal, not he.  
Oh Sultan! call your glories to your aid;  
Summon those Virtues which the World obeyed:  
Stains in your brightness will too monstrous show.  
You were not raised so high, to fall so low,  Solym. 
Heavens! Have I Crimes a Daughter dares impeach.  
Obey that will, you are too bold to teach.  Aster. 
Save Ibrahim; and be as far obeyed  
As the Sun sees, and Nature's limits spread.  
Repeal his Doom, speak but that one dear word,  
And be by all obeyed; by all adored.  Solym. 
Can you that mercy for his Life implore;  
Whom his Ingratitude bids you abhor?  Aster. 
O calm the rage of your Tempestuous will,  
And be a good and gracious Father still.  Solym. 
Stand from my Arm, fond Girl; expect no more  
T'obtain his life than you can life restore.  
But hence— know my displeasure and retire.  Aster. 
If you are Angry, raise your anger higher:  
For if my dearest Ibrahim must not live,  
Load me with all the sufferings you can give.  
Let me your Frowns, your Hate, your Curses have,  
All helps are kind that bring me near my Grave.  Solym. 
Hence with thy Pity from my Anger fly:  
This wandering fire shall out; for he shall die.  Aster. 
Since I with Tears and Prayers in vain implore;  
Hear me but once, and I will speak no more.  
If He must die, when the dire wound is given,  
And Ibrahim shuts out Life to take in Heaven:  
When the enamoured Saints with greedy Arms embrace  
The brightest Guest in all the shining space;  
To follow him, I'll leave life's joys below,  
And dying to my Rival Stars I'll go.  
Your poor Asteria in his Fate must join,  
For know, that man that wounds his heart, breaks mine.  
Must Ibrahim die then—  
Oh that dire word comes heavy from my tongue;  
My breath grows short, and I have talked too long.  
Oh, Sultan, do not vanish from my sight:  
Where are you? stay! why have you made it Night?  ['Swounds away. Solym. 
Fond Girl, thou hast my pity— But—  
Remove her! and her straggling sense recall.  
This object cannot stop my Rivals fall.  Attendants carry her off. 
Before Love raised this Torrent in my Blood,  
Close to my heart, firm as a Rock, he stood;  
But by some mighty Deluge over-borne,  
Mountains unloose, and Rocks from Rocks are torn.  
Thro'their strong Veins, the stronger flood pours in,  
And the vast Fractures never close again.  [Is going. Enter Roxolana. Roxol. 
Stay Sultan, stay. If Perjury you think,  
Is a mean crime at which the Gods can wink;  
Be bold false King, and sin in open day,  
To the wide world your hardened soul display.  
Th'unmanly dread of th'other world out-wear;  
And brave that Vengeance which you scorn to fear.  
To make you yet more Barbarously great,  
At once my Ruin and your Pride complete:  
Since on the Christian you my Crown bestow:  
I come to give the head that wore it too.  Solym. 
Since the fair Christian then has been so kind,  
To tell you what my pleasure has designed;  
Her word's your Fate; I Love her not so ill,  
To make her Voice less than an Oracle.  Roxol. 
Your falsehood is not whispered at that rate,  
That I need learn your Crimes from her I hate.  
But has your Rage so impiously decreed?  
Yet why this wonder— furious Lord, proceed.  
The prospect of my fall so open lies,  
That I'm too well prepared for a surprise.  Solym. 
Do not so highly, and so ill resent  
The loss of that which was not given, but lent.  
And when I take that which I lent before,  
I but my glories to their source restore.  Roxol. 
Can you plead reason for your Guilts defence?  
And thus Usurp the name of Innocence?  
No, Sultan, speak like what you are, and call  
Yourself a Tyrant, Monster, Savage, all  
The blackest names from injured Tongues can fall.  
Since you prove false, 'twould be more just t'express  
Your Perjury in the most hateful dress:  
Then I could bear my loss, and love you less.  weeps Solym. 
How tiresome does unwelcome kindness prove?  
Is there a Blessing, or a Plague like Love?  Roxol. 
Oh Treacherous eyes what has your weakness done?  
Can an Effeminate soft Tear run down  
From her fond Eyes that lives to lose a Crown!  
A deposed Queen! and have so little gall!  
Did Cleopatra weep before her fall?  
No, at her Breast her dearest Vipers hung;  
Whose pointed Tongues her angry bosom stung:  
Swelled with their Poison, and her blood all fired,  
In nobler rage her Roman pride expired.  
Her great despair such glorious fury felt,  
As burst that heart which was too proud to melt.  Solym. 
Hence from my sight: Take your vain Threats away:  
Know my fixed Resolution, and obey.  Roxol. 
Threatened to silence, and commanded hence!  
Ye Gods, must I be taught Obedience?  
Whose Empire did so lately spread so wide,  
At once my Sex's Envy and their Pride?  
Thou despicable King, how poor and low  
Are the mean gifts which from thy bounty flow!  
Glory a fairy Treasure, power a Toy,  
An Airy Scene of Visionary Joy.  
Since empty greatness has this fading state,  
Why have I dreamed so long, or waked so late?  Solym. 
What though you've ruled an Age? The Sun and Stars,  
Tho' they have shined so many thousand years,  
Can plead no right to an Immortal state.  
I made you, as Heaven did the World Create.  
In your each part, power and perfection reigned;  
Each look Dominion had, each word Command.  
But as th' Eternal Will ordains a Day,  
When this bright Frame its Debt to Fate must pay;  
So when this Universe in Dust shall lie,  
The Gods will be no more unjust than I  Roxol. 
In that great day, Heaven its Revenge will take;  
The World must burn for wicked Man kind's sake:  
And Nature die for what her Race has done;  
The Gods will at that Day put out their Sun;  
Becauseed has shined too long on such as You.  
Then Perjury will meet its last just due.  Solym. 
This growing storm no longer I'll endure:  
Her Violent Rage must have a Violent Cure.  Roxol. 
But since the faithful Roxolana must  
Be Sacrificed to please a Tyrant's Lust:  
May my quick Fall like some fierce Earthquake come,  
When th' opening ground is some tall Pyramids Tomb.  
Whose Ravenous Jaws once gorged, and closed again,  
No relics of the ruined pile remain,  
To keep its memory alive.  
Since my loud fall must bring eternal shame,  
Oh that you could but kill my very Name;  
And give my memory and me one Grave.  
Then with what scorn should I my wrongs outbrave.  
But when to my Immortal shame, they'll say,  
I lost an Age's Triumph in a Day;  
There, there's my Torture—  
In all the mortal strokes great Hearts sustain,  
Honour's the only part that bleeds with pain.  Solym. 
Take her away— I'll hear no more—  [to Morat. Roxol. 
Bold Slave.  [to Morat. Solym. 
begone! I will no longer hear her Rave.  Roxol. 
Villain! forbear.  [to Morat. Draws a Dagger. 
How wretched base art thou! by thy Command  
Forced like thy Slave! Seized by thy Vassals hand!  
I've so much Pride for that which I have been,  
No common hands shall touch the Worlds once Sacred Queen.  
Stand off, officious Traitor: Come not nigh,  
Approach me but with one bold look, and die.  Enter Ulama. Ulam. 
Hold Irreligious Slave.  [to Morat. 
Touch her no more than you would forfeit Heaven.  
To what wild rage is Impious passion driven?  
And Madam, stay your hand: give not that blow  
For him too glorious, and for you too low.  Roxol. 
I thank you for the favour you have done;  [Gives Ulama the Dagger, which he takes on his Knees. 
You've Reason, but my Griefs have left me none.  Ulam. 
Sultan, I am unwilling to believe  
'Tis in Fate's power to make such Beauty grieve.  
But take her, take her, and be blind no more;  
To Her your heart; to your self your Wits restore:  
Be Great, Proud, Glorious, Blessed; Live, Love, and Reign  
In Happiness above the State of Man.  
Consider but how much of Heaven dwells there,  
And call yourself our Prophet's Son and Heir.  Solym. 
How Ulama!  Ulam. 
I am your Virtue's Friend;  
And with my Blood that Virtue would defend:  
Hither I come by Friendship's Sacred tie,  
To rouse you from your mortal Lethargy.  
Your sleeping Reason wake, and Re-enthrone  
What Nature made most worthy of a Crown:  
Repair her Injuries, and your lost Fame.  
Such influence lodges in that Heavenly Frame,  
Her Smiles can deify, and her Wrongs can damn.  Solym. 
Persian! the World had never yet so bold  
A Man, as durst my pleasure have controlled?  
Had I as many Subjects as I led,  
To win thy Persian Crown, that durst have said  
Half this, their Lives for th' Insolence had paid.  Ulam. 
If all should die that do abhor your Sin,  
The Massacre would make your Empire thin:  
Tho only I dare tell you—  
How much the best of Wives, & best of Queens you wrong;  
All Mankind has my Sense, though not my Tongue.  
When I your fury from that Saint divert,  
I but a suffering Kingdoms cause assert.  
Be just to her, that Heaven may be appeased,  
And the afflicted groaning World be eased.  Solym. 
Rash, desperate Sir, though you dare rage so high,  
My Charity's too great to let you die.  
But Captive, do not tempt your Fate; that hour  
You make a forfeit of your head once more,  
Your petulant Frenzy with your Chains I'll tame,  
And shrink you to that shade from whence you came.  Roxol. 
Hold generous Persian, you presume too high,  
If in my Cause, first ask my leave to die.  
Forbear t'increase the violence of his Hate,  
Lest you're involved in Roxolana's Fate:  
Tho 'twould become the greatness of a Queen,  
T'have Crowds in Death to fill her Funeral Scene:  
Sultan, no guiltless soul with mine shall fly:  
I'll quit my state, and singly glorious die.  Ulam. 
Do not oppose me in so just a Cause:  
When he breaks Nature, Heaven and Honour's Laws  
In wronging you; let his fierce rage proceed;  
Let Justice suffer, Truth's Defender bleed.  
Tame me with Chains!  [too Solym. 
A Prison is too weak: Send me ha' a Grave:  
And if that power o'er Souls, as Lives you have,  
Send me—  
Where that loud Guilt, by which her greatness fell,  
Is writ in Sulphur on Records of Hell.  
And when the blackest of their Hellish train,  
Shall tell the story of her Tragic Scene,  
Attended by a fierce and fiery throng,  
I'll bring the Furies, and all Hell along,  
To tell thee thou hast done a deed so damned,  
That thou hast made th'infernal Fiends ashamed.  Solym. 
Bold man, thy blood— but 'tis too base to shed—  
Thy baseness from my arm protects thy head.  
But to deserve thy ruin from my hand,  
I give thee leave my Rebels to command:  
Or once again thy rallyed Persians lead.  
If thou hast Honour, meet me in their head.  
When all thy glories do thy brow adorn,  
And on the Wings of Fame I see thee born;  
Be worthy my Anger then; till then, my Scorn.  Ulam. 
I'll meet thee, land thy power Undaunted stand;  
Though thy Victorious Arms the World command,  
Thy Sword's grown weak, placed in a guilty hand.  Solym. 
T'increase your Courage, think it weaker yet,  
And to chastise thy rudeness when we meet:  
When in an Arms Head thy Face I see,  
I'll tell thee then thou art fit to fall by Me.  [Exit Solym. Roxol. 
When Empress of the World, I stood on hallowed ground,  
With all my pomp and greatness circled round;  
Then what train of Worshippers, what crowd  
Of Vassals as my Foes all prostrate bowed.  
On humble Mortals I in state looked down,  
Who gazed on glories sparkling from my Crown.  
Life waited on my Smiles, Death on my Frown.  
Feared and adored, on their bowed Necks I trod,  
Whilst to my Throne I mounted like a God.  
But in my Fall, where's that Devotion gone?  
Of all those thousands, Fate has left but one.  Ulam. 
So great your Merit, and your Slaves so few?  
Those thousands lost, be Godlike, and raise new:  
Permit me but to meet this Threatening King,  
And see what force so just a Cause can bring.  
To right your Honour, and rebuild your Throne;  
Vouchsafe to call my Sword, and Life your own.  
Rather than your loud wrongs shall go unpaid,  
I will exhaust an Empire in your aid.  
Here at his Gates I will his Guilt defy:  
I, and my Persia, nay, the Gods and I—  Roxol. 
Hold Angry Prince; your Zeal in my just Cause,  
Whilst it was Innocent, had my applause.  
Forbear then to pull down my hate; though He  
Has lost his Virtue, broke his Faith to Me;  
I have not lost the Duty of a Wife:  
Tho I abhor his Crimes, I prize his Life.  
Who holds a Sword against his Breast, wounds me;  
His Foe is Roxolana's Enemy.  [Exit Roxol. Ulam. 
Fool that I was to ask her, her consent;  
Without her leave, her ruin I'll prevent.  
Her pious Vengeance points me out the way;  
'Twas but her superstition bade me stay.  
To morrow I'll towards Persia go, and bring  
My utmost power against this Perjured King.  
If time enough, I'll stop her Fall; if late,  
Revenge it; if I fail, I'll share her Fate:  
Lost though I am, and in despair; I'll try  
To waste an Empire in her Cause, and die.  [Exit Ulam. 
The End of the Fourth Act.   

ACT the FIFTH.  
The SCENE, a Chamber.  Enter Ibrahim meeting Isabel and Morat. Morat. 
SIr, from the Sultan I am hither sent,  
To Council you your ruin to prevent.  
If by consent you can for ever part,  
And make a present of a Mrs. Heart,  
You have your Life; else, when he sleeps, you die.  
You have an hour allowed for your reply.  [Ex. Morat. Isabel. 
'Tis a hard choice, you must be false, or die!  
To save your Life, what is't I would not give?  Ibrah. 
What would you have me quit your Love, & Live!  Isabel. 
No; though I value you so high, above  
My Ibrahims' Life, I prize my Ibrahims Love.  
If nothing but Inconstancy can give  
You Life, die mine, since mine you cannot live.  
But do not think when you are gone, I shall  
Have power long to outlive your Funeral.  
There's a Contagion in a Lovers fall.  
Weak are his Threats, and vain his subtlest Art;  
His Tyranny may all but Lover's part.  Ibrah. 
Do I not die to seal my Faith to you?  
What juster act, what braver can I do?  
Then do not murmur at my glorious Fall.  
Is this his Cruelty? Is dying all?  
What's Death! The meanest Slaves die every day;  
Even Infancy and Age that Debt to Nature pay.  
A feverish fit can stop our fleeting breath;  
Our Taste, Smell, Touch, each Sense, can let in Death.  
And we who Beauties infinite power adore,  
For great Almighty Love can do no more.  Isabel. 
But can I say I love, and bid you die?  
No! for your safety this one Art I'll try;  
I'll straight to Solyman, and Summon all  
Those angry powers that injured Love can call.  
Not deposed Kings shall rage so much as I.  
With so much scorn his baseness I'll defy;  
Till I've incensed his rage to that degree,  
That he shall spare your Life, and Murder me.  
In me, he can but Isabel Doom;  
In you he takes a prop from Christendom.  
Live Ibrahim then, Religion to defend:  
His Favourite live, to be the Christians Friend.  
Leave Death to me, and think my Life well given,  
At once in saying you, and serving Heaven.  Ibrah. 
These melting sounds all sense of Death destroy;  
Who would not choose my Fate, for half my Joy?  
But do not hope to die for me—  
Think not your charms so little, nor my King  
So Savage, though unkind, that any thing  
Will make him dare to shed your precious blood;  
No; my best life, he must not, if he could.  Isabel. 
Must I so tamely then behold your Fall?  
No, 'gainst your Murderer I'll muster all  
My Rage, Despair, Revenge— what is't I will not do?  
I'll treat him so— but why this passion now?  
Since 'tis decreed we must so soon divide,  
My parting looks should all their fierceness hide.  
Furies, till then lay all your Scorpions by;  
Our last dear minutes should more gently fly:  
Kind Heaven, let but this span of Life be blessed,  
Love reign this hour, and horror all the rest.  Ibrah. 
Best of thy Sex!  [Embracing her. 
But I in vain shall this short Triumph boast,  
Gazing on what must be for ever lost.  Isabel. 
For ever? why! can death destroy our Love?  
Shall we not meet, and be as blessed above?  
Cease Sir, oh cease this too unkind despair,  
Are there all Joys in Heaven, and Love not there?  Ibrahim. 
Filled with that hope, I'll my short time improve,  
And sum an Age's bliss in one hours Love.  
Low at your Feet, your humble Vassal bows;  [Kneels. 
And here on this fair hand, seals his last Vows.  [kisses her hand. 
Turn, turn your eyes this way, look all Divine,  
In your full Lustre let your kindness shine.  
Oh Love! I am all Ecstasy, delight,  
Soaring in joys, I'm giddy with my height.  [kissing her hand often. 
But hide those eyes; take this soft Magic hence:  [lets go her hand. 
My happiness so much transports my sense,  
That such another look will make me grow  
Too fond of Life ever to let you go.  Isabel. 
Great blessings like swift torrents always run  
Too rapid to stay long.  Ibrah. 
What have I done?  
Restore those pleasing looks, give me your hand again,  
My Light, Day, Sun, shut not your glories in.  
Spite of his power, in this soft knot I'll fold,  [She gives him her Hand again. 
And when I die, let him cut off my hold.  
I'll twine so fast, that when he gives the blow,  
And cuts me by the Roots up from below;  
These dying branches still shall grasp you all,  
And grasp, and grasp, and wither e'er they fall.  Enter Asteria, Mirva, and Morat. Aster. 
So close, so kind! how happy should I be.  [aside entering. 
Were half this dear Devotion paid to me?  Mor. 
Madam, the Sultan's orders were severe,  
But Soliman's command admits you here,  
And I dare take your word—  to Asteria. 
No doubt she's come,  
By th'offer of her Love t'avert his Doom.  [aside. 
Grant Her success; let Ibrahim live, and may  
The Sultan's hopes be Crowned the gentler way.  [Exit. Aster. 
Though life and happiness must ne'er be mine,  
Yet I'll take care that I'll secure 'em thine.  
Accept that!  Mirva gives him a Sword. Miru. 
Sent from Roxolana's hand.  
This Princess Love conspires with her command.  
They've both designed your freedom to redeem.  Aster. 
Which to effect, we've found this Stratagem.  
Though of your Fate, this is th'appointed Scene,  
Yet in respect to that which you have been,  
His Friend and Vizier, you're allowed this Grace;  
None but Morat has entrance to this place.  Miru. 
The Mutes, th'intended Murderers, wait all  
Without, at distance, and beyond his call;  
And but approach that minute when you fall.  Aster. 
When False Morat returns to take her hence;  
Produce this Weapon as your last defence.  
Disarm him, bind him, leave him in your room;  
Change habits with him, and his form assume.  
Lead hence your Princess, and by th'help of Night,  
Pass undiscovered, and secure you flight:  
The Guards too, not suspecting an escape,  
Will let you pass deluded by that shape.  Ibrah. 
Alas! I was before a Bankrupt made,  
And owed too much where I'had so little paid:  
But now your goodness swells the Debt so high,  
That I with shame must Live—  Aster. 
Shame! Dear Sir, why?  
You owe me nothing: By Religious ties,  
When Virtue in distress and danger lies,  
Its rescue and defence should be the care  
Of all Man kind; and that's my business here.  Isabel. 
Thou art so excellently good, thou best  
Of Rivals, so much Heaven dwells in thy Breast.  
In Duty to perfections so Divine,  
All my best thoughts, and half my prayers are thine.  Enter Morat. Mor. 
I come to tell you that your hour is past! ha  [starts. Ibrah. 
Keep in thy tongue, or speaking speak thy last.  Morat. 
How came you by that Sword?  [Ibrah. gets between him and the Door. Ibrah. 
No matter how;  
Jailor, my Flight must be contrived by you.  Morat. 
Your Flight!  Ibrah. 
'Tis a proposal may seem strange:  
But Sir, we two our habits must exchange,  
And you must yield to stay here gauged and bound,  
Till by your shape we move t'a safer ground.  
If at this price you'll buy your Life, you may.  Morat. 
What do you think to frighten me to play  
The Traitor?  Ibrah. 
Know, 'tis Death to disobey—  Morat. 
Submit to save my Life for one hours' time,  
To die the next by tortures for my Crime!  
No; though your Arm is so renowned, I'll try  
My chance for Life.—  Ibrah. 
Then take thy choice and die.  [they fight. Aster. 
Hold Villain, hold! how dare you lift an arm  
Against his Life.  [Interposing. Ibrah. 
Dear Madam! fear no harm.  Mor. 
How dare you Save what Solyman Condemns?  [to Aster, Ibrah. 
Do not dispute her goodness, nor my Crimes,  
But yield and Live—  Mor. 
Yield! no, at thy false heart;  [fights again. 
Hold! thou hast killed me, Traitor as thou art.  [Bears himself up, reeling upon his Sword. 
In all my hopes, all my Ambition crossed!  
By a fond foolish Girl betrayed and lost.  Aster. 
You are not wounded?  Ibrah. 
No! you Genius was my guard.  Mor. 
Thou Treacherous Fool, take that for thy reward.  [Kills Aster. and falls. Ibrah. 
Down to thy Hell, and there in torments howl:  [Sticking him to the ground. 
Oh speak dear Madam, ease my tortured soul;  
The Gods their charge must better understand,  
Then to ordain your Fate from such a hand,  
Say you're not hurt?  Aster. 
No! let your trouble cease!  
He has only sent a wretched thing to peace.  Isabel. 
She bleeds, she bleeds!  Ibrah. 
Oh! this detested hour!  Aster. 
Alas Sir! I was dying long before.  
Death's cold hand struck me when I first lost you,  
A linger Fate the slow Consumption drew,  
Then do not Sir this happy stroke deplore,  
That ends a tedious Journey in an hour.  Isabel. 
A Lover's absence, and a Father's hate,  
My three years' pains were easy to this weight.  
Horror ne'er seized me in this dismal shape.  Ibrah. 
Infernal Dog!  Aster. 
Think, think of your escape.  Ibrah. 
Is an escape a fit reward for him,  
Who bears the weight of my accursed Crime?  Aster. 
My Death is not your Crime. Kind dear Sir, fly;  
Oh do not stay! leave me alone to die.  Ibrah. 
Desert you!  Aster. 
I conjure you do not stay.  
I'th' path to Heaven the Good can never stray;  
I need no help to guide me in my way.  Ibrah. 
How can I fly?  Aster. 
This unkind language cease;  
Fly as you'd have my Soul in Heaven find peace.  Ibrah. 
How can I promise you?  Aster. 
Oh Sir! you must.  
Will you deny me Rest when I am Dust?  
Is saving of your Life so hard?  Ibrah. 
Is leaving you  
So easy? basely to desert you now:  
And guard my forfeit blood when I have been  
A fatal instrument in shedding thine?  Aster. 
Nay, then I'm destined to die wretched; all  
I begged of Heaven, was to divert your fall.  
My saving Ibrahim's Life was all my pride:  
And must that only blessing be denied?  Ibrah. 
Well Madam! I'll submit to any thing.  Aster. 
Now with an Angel's voice I hear you speak;  
And at that word my heartstrings gently break.  
My well-pleased Ghost will find eternal rest,  
To think that I have made my Ibrahim blessed.  
And must I die in my dear Ibrahim's Arms?  
Now you transport me with too mighty charms.  
In this dear Heaven, like a blessed Star I'm placed:  
But, oh, my Joys too violent to last.  [dies. Ibrah. 
She's gone! Yes, generous Saint, I'll do thee right,  
But if I fly, my Death must be my flight.  
I'm too much loaded with my shame and grief,  
To leave this killing fight to save a life.  Isabel. 
Farewell unhappy Maid, sure there must be  
No common joys above reserved for thee;  
Thou hadst so little happiness below.  
heavens' debts are certain, though the payment's slow.  Enter a Bassa, as sent from Solyman. Bassa. 
Morat stays long: What's here! Guards, Guards.  [Exit Bassa retreating at the same door he entered. Ibrah. 
Stay! stay!  
I am your Prisoner, and your power obey:  
Alas! there needs no Crowds to take me now.  Re-enter the Bassa with Guards. Bassa. 
Seize him.  [Guards seize him. Ibrah. 
It is the kindest office you can do.  Bassa. 
Remove the bodies hence,  
And keep those Prisoners safe till my return;  
Till from the Sultan's will their Fates I learn.  [Exit Ibrahim and Isabel. led in by Guards; part of the Guards carry off Morat and Asteria, and the Bassa returns at the same door he entered at. Manet, Mirva. Miru. 
How dismally to Roxolana's ear  
Will this strange story sound. But see, she's here.  Enter Roxolana. Roxol. 
Have I success? Is Isabel fled?  
Has that dire Planet hid its threatning head?  
I fear thy Answer will not be so kind:  
An Ominous load hangs on my burdened mind.  Miru. 
Let me in silence my Allegiance pay.  Roxol. 
No, Mirva: speak the worst thou hast to say.  Miru. 
The fair Asteria's dead, killed by Morat:  
But in revenge of her unhappy Fate;  
By Ibrahim's just hand the Traitor fell.  
The Lover's grief would be too sad to tell:  
Let it suffice, they're kept in stricter chains;  
And now no hope of liberty remains.  Roxol. 
Poor Innocence!  
What Tears would thy unhappy Mother pay,  
Were she alive to have beheld this day.  
But thou to share her Joys dost upwards go;  
And leavest thy sorrows to thy Friends below.  
Wretched Asteria! but more wretched I!  
This will but raise the Sultan's rage more high.  
Now Ibrahim's life for hers too sure must pay,  
And then the Christian is his certain prey.  
Then Roxolana lays her greatness down;  
And this new Love is courted with my Crown.  
But that's a sight I must not live to see.  Enter a Attendant of Roxolana's with a bowl of Poison. 
Zarma, the Cup.  
This, this my Guard shall be.  Miru. 
Oh Madam, what do you design?  Roxol. 
To die!  
From scorn and shame, to peace and Heaven I'll fly.  
No perjured Kings, no ruin, no despair  
Come near that place— power is immortal there.  Drinks the Poison. Enter Ulama. Ulam. 
I'll try what Vengeance joined with Love can do;  
'Tis th'only glorious path that's left me now.  
Since my successless Zeal in your defence,  [to Rox. 
And Solyman's rage has Banished me from hence:  
To morrow I towards Persia must return,  
And make the Eastern World your sufferings mourn:  
Where, if I breathe my sorrow in that strain,  
As makes an Empire echo to my pain;  
Oh pardon what my duty does create,  
A Tribute due to Roxolana's Fate.  Roxol. 
You are my Friend, and, Sir, to treat you so,  
Take my last secret with you when you go.  
All my long frightful danger disappears,  
I am secure from injuries and fears.  
No wicked hand shall snatch my Diadem now,  
My Guardian Angel hovers round my brow.  Ulam. 
Oh Madam, speak again;  
Say, has your Beauty his Conversion wrought?  
Is his new Love that Meteor-light put out?  
And have your brighter looks restored the day?  Roxol. 
No, my protection comes a safer way.  
A draught of Poison I have took: I scorn  
To have my glories from my Temples torn,  
And Roman-like do my own Fate command.  Ulam. 
Poisoned! and by that fair, but fatal hand!  Roxol. 
Yet though my death's so sure determined, I  
Have still one hour of Life before I die.  
Which little blast of life I'll use so well,  
To my false King that parting story tell,  
Shall sting his Soul!  Ulam. 
What has your fury done?  
Through those soft Veins must th'impious Poison run?  Roxol. 
Impious! no, Sacred was the word you meant;  
An act so pious might become a Saint.  
Honour and safety this brave work perform.  
I like a Pilot see the rising storm;  
And wisely take my threatened glories in.  Ulam. 
Must all Man kind be punished for his sin?  
The World's a sufferer in your Tragic Fate;  
When you are dead, where's that Majestic state!  
Where's Nature's Pride? their Sovereign Leader slain;  
Dull Beauties then like petty States will reign.  
Why to such rage was so much Beauty driven?  
Was it the spite or oversight of Heaven  
Which that bright frame of Warring Elements built?  
Such goodness in your eyes, and in your hand such guilt.  Roxol. 
How! is't a torment to you, to behold  
My greatness unconfined and uncontrolled;  
To be new formed in an Aetherial mould?  
Art thou an Heir t'a Crown, and hast so mean  
A sense of Honour? weret thou born to reign?  
And can thy narrow Soul this Council give,  
That Roxolana should her power outlive?  Ulam. 
Madam, no more.  Roxol. 
When for an act so great  
The crowding Gods their Royal Guest shall meet;  
And lay their brightest glories at my feet.  
If thou shalt dare profane my memory,  
And basely say I did not bravely die:  
From my bright Constellation I'll look down,  
And all my Stars shall blast thee when I frown.  Ulam. 
Oh cease your Anger, rather than I'll bring  
That Curse upon me, I'll say any thing.  Roxol. 
Have I no more applause! mistaken Prince,  
For once I'll stoop, thy Error to convince.  
Know it has been my-Honour to command  
The World's great Lord! I have both loved and reigned;  
And when I see my Vassals disobey,  
My long kept train of Honours shrink away;  
Know, 'tis the noblest refuge of the great,  
To make their lives before their glories set.  
Since Solyman's short favours fade so soon,  
I'll mount where 'tis all Summer, always Noon.  
All Earthly glory does perfection want:  
Here 'tis but glass; in Heaven 'tis Adamant.  Ulam. 
Hold Madam! I'm a Convert, and must own  
th'impoverished World so bravely you've undone,  
That it must mourn, and yet admire you too.  
You've done what greatness in despair should do.  
You'll leave your Fame immortal when you go.  
A Saint above, and Heroine below.  
This glorious deed, not all th' Angellick Choir  
You'll meet, can praise enough, enough admire.  
But though your Death I can your Triumph call,  
I can applaud but not survive your fall.  [Stabs himself. 
Hide not those Eyes! do not my Heaven remove:  
Now I with Innocence may own I Love.  Roxol. 
Because my Death's so near,  
Dare you thus rudely Roxolana treat;  
No, guilty Prince, I'm not so little yet;  
I've still the Pride to scorn a Slave so bold,  
In my last spark of life I still my lightning hold.  Ulam. 
Oh do not think that I durst ever frame  
One thought or wish against your Sacred Name.  
Not one Rebellious thought durst ever rise;  
Your Virtue was as Godlike as your Eyes.  
My secret pain I did with silence bear,  
And my Devotion paid without a prayer:  
And do you think because your Death's so nigh,  
I fear you less? No, now you stand more high;  
Your greatness points like Mountains towards the sky.  Roxol. 
If with such silence you your pains received,  
How dare you die more guilty than you lived?  
How came you now to find a Tongue?  Ulam. 
Oh now  
My love runs pure when my last blood streams too.  
To own a passion for that Face and live,  
Was more than so much Virtue could forgive,  
All this I knew, and to have power to speak,  
This only way could my long silence break.  
And now I speak, I do not ask your Love;  
Cursed be th'Impiety that dares remove  
That sacred Bond your solemn Vows have sealed,  
Or ask one look your Honour cannot yield,  
Yet as I'm dying, and shall beg no more,  
One blessing let my parting sighs implore.  
That little step let my Ambition climb.  Roxol. 
Well Sir, you have my pardon for your Crime.  Ulam. 
And is my Pardon all? a little higher  
Let your poor humble dying Slave aspire.  Roxol. 
Then Prince—  Ulam. 
Oh speak!  Roxol. 
You have my pity too.  Ulam. 
Dear divine Excellence, you've raised me now  
To all the joys e'er filled a Lover's breast;  
You cannot be more kind, nor I more blessed!  
My life did but my happiness retard:  
Who would not die when Death has this reward?  Enter Solyman and the former Bassa. 
Her Tyrant here!  Solym. 
My Daughter killed in Ibrahim's defence;  
How strangely am I crossed by Providence!  
Yet no ill Fate can drive my Princess Image hence.  
My Vizier still must die, and Love will have it so.  Ulam. 
Turn Tyrant, turn; see what your guilt dares do.  
That Beauteous form has not an hour of Life,  
She has drank a draught of Poison; a relief  
Against thy rage, Behold that setting light:  
And may her ruin blast thee with the sight.  
I loved her without hopes of a return,  
Yet I in tears of blood her Fate could mourn.  
Thou envied Rival, didst her Conquest boast,  
In that fair prize all Nature's wealth engrossed.  
Yet prodigally that cursed stroke hast given,  
As loses thee thy Fame, thy Soul, thy Heaven:  
I'll tell that story of thee in the skies,  
Till at thy head all their just thunder flies.  
There Beauteous Martyr, when we meet above,  
I will pursue my never dying Love.  [dies. Roxol. 
Oh Sultan! what reward does falsehood bring;  
What judgements persecute a Perjured King?  
Your Empress dies; your Friend and Daughter bleed,  
To pull down Vengeance on your guilty head.  
Of th'unjust torments I have undergone,  
Heaven has a sense, though Solyman has none.  Solym. 
Why foolish Woman, have you vexed the Gods,  
And set your Prophet and your King at odds?  
Why have you wilfully sought this rash Fate,  
To ruin yours, and to disturb my State:  
You might have lived, and lived uninjured still;  
Your greatness safe, and unconfined your will.  Roxol. 
Yes Sir, I might have lived, and lived t'have been  
An humble Vassal to your Christian Queen.  Solym. 
Why will your Frenzy still thus blindly err?  
What if t'a Throne the Christian I prefer,  
Must I impoverish you to enrich her?  
You make us Monarchs very abject things,  
If greatness is but once the gift of Kings.  
I should not lessen you; but give her power,  
As your Companion, not your Successor.  Roxol. 
Do not these wild and vain excuses feign,  
Seek not such Coverts when your guilt's too plain.  
But could you make two Suns together shine,  
And her new Greatness, not diminish mine;  
Hers were the true, Mine but a Pageant Crown:  
I've lost my Sultan's heart, my dearest Throne.  
Could we in Crowns, in that we cannot share,  
There's no dividing of an Empire there.  Solym. 
whatever Charms I in her Eyes descry,  
I love you still too well to see you die.  Roxol. 
You loved me not enough t'avert my Fate,  
Your Kindness and my Life have but one Date:  
When I lost you, I rather chose to cease  
To be at all, than ever to be less.  
I Lived so glorious, and I Loved so well,  
That all beneath my Paradise was Hell.  Sultan. 
No more! If I am guilty, you have been  
My Punisher, rash and unhappy Queen!  
But as some kind requital of your strange  
And passionate resentment of my change,  
I have this sense of Roxolana's Fate,  
I will in tears deplore her wretched state.  Roxol. 
'Twill to my Sufferings be some relief,  
If Roxolana's Fall can cause your grief.  
So much, dear Sir, does this kind promise ease  
My torments, and my drooping Spirits raise;  
That of your Cruelty I'll not complain,  
But tune my dying voice to that soft strain,  
That not one groan shall pass; my parting breath  
Shall stifle all the horrors of my Death;  
And treat you with the pleasures of my life.  Solym. 
Oh how she sets my Crimes before my sight,  
And holds the mirror at too fierce a light.  Roxol. 
When I was made the Mighty Sultan's Bride,  
Led to the Temple in my Royal pride,  
My Coronation did so splendid shine,  
I charmed a Nations Eyes, and you charmed mine.  
I bowed under the Glories which you gave;  
You crowned my Head, but made my Heart your Slave.  
Then, than my infinite happiness began,  
Monarch was the least part of Solyman:  
Power held the Reins, 'tis true, whilst the great Chariot ran;  
But Love, the Soul of Empire sat above;  
Reigning was but an Interval to Love.  
Then from your Voice I could this Music hear:  
My Roxolana! Oh my charming Fair  
Angellick Sweetness, Miracle of Light;  
Pride of both Worlds, Mine, and the God's delight!  
And whilst your Love these tender sounds expressed,  
You clasped me thus, and leaning on my Breast  
Your languishing soft looks spoke out the rest.  Solym. 
If she proceeds at this bewitching rate,  
By Heaven she'll make me grow Effeminate.  
Such Eloquence have Lovers when they die;  
And thus we value Treasures when they fly.  Roxol. 
Nor had I passion less than Solyman,  
Through every Vein the pleasing fever ran;  
I shared your thoughts, your pains, your ecstasies;  
Love melted in my heart, and dazzled in my eyes,  
My Raptures were so great, my Joys so high,  
That I've lived happy, though I wretched die.  
My hopes, my tears, my prayers were all for you;  
You will scarce find a second Love so true.  Solym. 
What sudden alteration do I find?  
virtue returns that Stranger to my mind.  
Once more its long lost right has repossessed:  
Keep, keep thy seat, thou dear Celestial guest.  Roxol. 
Your Christian Favourite sees not with my Eyes:  
She hates you, and your kind embraces flies.  
But if at last Time, Force, or Empire's charms  
Prevail to lodge her in my Sultan's Arms:  
If 'tis her Destiny to live to see  
You false to Her, as you have been to Me,  
Her grief will never my despair pursue;  
She will not die to lose you as I do.  Solym. 
Kind Roxolana, thou hast made me good,  
Thou hast wrought a Cure in my distempered blood:  
Shall this great Persian Rival bleed? Shall He  
Who only saw, but ne'er possessed like Me,  
Plunged in his blood, a floating Victim swim?  
Shall not your Loss move me, that Murders him?  
And shall not Heaven my wandering sense recall,  
Warned by a Daughters, and an Empress fall?  Roxol. 
And do I live once more to call you mine?  
What Divine change is this?  Solym. 
Yes; 'tis Divine:  
My long benighted Soul is with new light arrayed.  
A change more Heavenly the great Gods ne'er made;  
Since the contending Elements they appeased,  
And a fair World from a wild Chaos raised.  
But cruel Roxolana, could you bring  
No gentler Reasons to confute an impious King?  
What though you saw my Crimes, and knew me false?  
All Frenzy has some lucid Intervals.  
You might have lived till my enlightened sense,  
Had made me just, without this violence.  
Would you had tried.  Roxol. 
All gentler means, you know, I tried before,  
But Tears and Prayers had both too little power.  Solym. 
Yes, they'd too little; oh my torturing pain,  
Now I remember how you wept in vain;  
Begged, Threatened, Courted, with such eloquence,  
As aught t'have vanquished my too Brutal sense.  
Such tender words you spoke, as might inspire  
More softness than the famous Thracian Lyre:  
Whose harmony the Lion's rage subdued,  
Tamed the wild Herds, and charmed th'Infernal God.  
But my more Hellish rage obdurate proved,  
By Tears unmelted, and by Prayers unmoved.  Roxol. 
Be not disturbed; what though I wonted power  
To make you just, till in this latest hour,  
I'm pleased in Death to have your Conquest wrought.  Solym. 
It is a Victory too dearly bought.  
Bid that enchantress and her Favourite,  
Straight leave my Court; my Empire from my sight  
For ever be removed: Bid 'em make haste,  
They cannot fly too far, nor move too fast:  
So distant may she be, that not the sound  
Of Isabel my just ears may wound.  [Exit Bassa. 
I'd not converse so much as with her Fame,  
Nor live within the hearing of her Name.  Roxol. 
Oh I'm all fire.  
The raging Poison does my heart-strings seize,  
And on a burning Throne the Tyrant plays.  
Within, within I bear my Funeral flame;  
Yet since my Fall does Solyman reclaim;  
Since dying, I my Sultan's heart regain,  
This dear Conversion takes off all my pain:  
Winged with that Bliss, my Soul Triumphant flies:  
Prepare ye Gods, for Roxolana Dies.  [Dies. Solym. 
Prepare ye Gods! To grace your Stars, she's gone.  
A brighter Saint ne'er filled a Heavenly Throne.  Enter Ibrahim and Isabel. Ibrah. 
Great Sir, though you've restored my Princess, given  
Me all the wealth I could have begged of Heaven.  
The dismal story of your sufferings  
So damps my frighted soul, such horror brings,  
That from great Solyman I cannot part,  
Till at his feet I lay a bleeding heart.  Solym. 
Draw nearer Ibrahim, and blast thine eyes,  Ibrah. 
Here cruel Fate, the mighty Victim lies,  
My happy Love can little Triumph boast,  
Gaining so much when you so much have lost.  Solym. 
For this kind loyal pity thou hast shown,  
In all my Kingdoms choose thyself a Throne.  Ibrah. 
Sir! for that proffered Throne thus low I bow,  
But must refuse the Royal gift; For now  
A Christian Coronet best fits my brow,  
There I'll be happy, if I can be so,  
Leaving my King a Mourner when I go,  Isabel. 
Is this great Roxolana was so fair  
A Palace built to entertain despair?  
Is there that Man that could that God-like Creature wrong;  
Withdraw that heart such charms had sealed so long?  
Had you a thousand Crimes, and every sin  
More horrid than your broken Vows have been;  
By what you've lost in this unhappy stroke,  
Heaven at one blow a full revenge has took.  Solym. 
Speak not a word, not cast one look this way,  
I would not have thee lead one thought astray.  
Thou fatal Cause— but even to speaks a sin,  
Thine Roxolana, now I'll be all Thine.  Ibrah. 
Success at last our mutual wishes win,  
But by such Scenes of horror ushered in.  
The way to Love's like that to Paradise,  
The roughest path leads to the greatest bliss.  [Exeunt Ibrahim and Isabel. Solym. 
Since Love's soft pleasures in thy Fall must end,  
In Wars my last remains of life I'll spend:  
Virtue, thy gift, I'll to the World proclaim,  
And dedicate my Trophies to thy Name.  [Exit omnes. 
FINIS.   

EPILOGUE.  
HOw many has our Rhimer killed to day?  
What need of Siege and Conquest in a Play,  
When Love can do the work as well as they?  
Yet 'tis such Love as you've scarce met before:  
Such Love I'm sure as English ground ne'er bore.  
Had half the injured Ladies of this Age,  
His Roxolana's kindness, and her Rage,  
What heaps on heaps of Female-suff'rers here,  
Would your good Men make Martyrs in one year?  
But thanks to Heaven you've not her fond Disease:  
E'en let 'em range and wander where they please;  
You're not such Fools to think of Poisoning yet;  
You want her Love, but you have twice her Wit.  
Dying a Mode your wiser thoughts contemn:  
You've a more pleasing way to punish 'em.  
And should our Brood of Gallants take this rule,  
And turn such Lovers as his Persian Fool,  
Kind Husband than might peaceably discover  
An Assignation made 'twixt Spouse and Lover.  
Leave you at Cribbedge, let you see a Play,  
Or take the Air in a fair Summer's day;  
Let you stay out in Masquerade whole Nights,  
With twenty other Innocent delights,  
And no harm done.— And yet how wild soe'er  
The humours of this brisk mad Age appear,  
'Tis ten to one but th' Author still will say,  
Your Virtues were the patterns of his Play;  
And swear you down,  
His Love and Honour both were stolen from you;  
And from your Features he his Heroes drew.  
There's ne'er a Comic Writer but will say,  
You're all of you the Patterns of his Play:  
Yet takes your Pictures at so damned a light;  
Paints you so Ugly, that your Looks would fright.  
And yet their Plays are your most dear delight.  
Why in your hearts may not th' Heroics share?  
Those make you worse, these better than you are.  
And Flatterers sure should not successless prove,  
When those that do abuse you have your Love.