DONE SEBASTIAN, King of Portuagal: A TRAGEDY Acted at the Theatre Royal.  
Written by Mr. DRYDEN.  
— Nec tarda Senectus,  
Debilitat vires animi, mutatque vigorem.  Virgil. 
LONDON: Printed for Jo. Hindmarsh, at the Golden Ball in Cornhill. MDCXC.   

Done Sebastian King of Portugal. A Tragedy. Persons Represented.  
1 Don Sebastian King of Portugal, 
By Mr. Williams.  2 Muley-Moluch Emperor of Barbary, 
Mr. Kynaston.  3 Dorax, a Noble Portuguese now a Renegade, formerly Don Alonzo de Sylvera Alcalde, or Governor of Alcazar▪ 
Mr. Betterton.  4 Benducar, Chief Minister and Favourite to the Emperor, 
Mr. Sandford.  5 The Mufti Abdalla, 
Mr. Underhill.  6 Muley-Zeydan Brother to the Emperor, 
Mr. powel, Jun.  7 Don Antonio, a Young Noble amorous Portuguese. now a Slave, 
Mr. Betterton.  8 Don Alvarez, an old Counsellor to Don Sebastian, now a Slave also, 
Mr. Boweman.  9 Muftapha Captain of the Rabble. 
Mr. Leigh.  10 Almeyda a Captive Queen of Barbary, 
Mrs. Barry.  11 Morayma, Daughter to the Mufti, 
Mrs. Montfort.  12 Johayma, Chief Wife to the Mufti, 
Mrs. Leigh.   

Two Merchants.  
Rabble.  
A Servant to Benducar.  
A Servant to the Mufti.  
Scene in the Castle of Alcazar.    

TO THE Right Honourable Philip Earl of Leycester, etc.  
FAR be it from me, (My most Noble Lord) to think, that any thing which my meanness can produce, should be worthy to be offered to your Patronage; or that aught which I can say of you should recommend you farther, to the esteem of good men in this present Age, or to the veneration which will certainly be paid you by Posterity. On the other side, I must acknowledge it a great presumption in me, to make you this Address; and so much the greater, because by the common suffrage even of contrary parties, yond have been always regarded, as one of the first Persons of the Age, and yet no one Writer has dared to tell you so: Whether we have been, all conscious to ourselves that it was a needless labour to give this notice to Mankind, as all men are ashamed to tell stolen news, or that we were justly diffident of our own performances, as even Cicero is observed to be in awe when he writes to Atticus; where knowing himself overmatched in good sense, and truth of knowledge, he drops the gaudy train of words, and is no longer the vainglorious Orator. From whatever reason it may be, I am the first bold offender of this kind: I have broken down the fence, and ventured into the Holy Grove; how I may be punished for my profane attempt, I know not; but I wish it may not be of ill Omen to your Lordship; and that a crowd of bad Writers, do not rush into the quiet of your recesses after me. Every man in all changes of Government, which have been, or may possibly arrive, will agree, that I could not have offered my Incense, where it could be so well deserved. For you, My Lord, are secure in your own merit; and all Parties, as they rise uppermost, are sure to court you in their turns; 'tis a tribute which has ever been paid your virtue: The leading men still bring their bullion to your mint, to receive the stamp of their intrinsic value, that they may afterwards hope to pass with human kind. They rise and fall in the variety of Revolutions; and are sometimes great, and therefore wise in men's opinions, who must court them for their interest: But the reputation of their parts most commonly follows their success; few of 'em are wise, but as they are in power: Because indeed, they have no sphere of their own, but like the Moon in the Copernican Systeme of the World, are whirled about by the motion of a greater Planet. This it is to be ever busy; neither to give rest to their Fellow creatures, nor, which is more wretchedly ridiculous, to themselves: Tho truly, the latter is a kind of justice, and giving Mankind a due revenge, that they will not permit their own hearts to be at quiet, who disturb the repose of all beside them. Ambitious Meteors! how willing they are to set themselves upon the Wing; and taking every occasion of drawing upward to the Sun: Not considering that they have no more time allowed them for their mounting, than the short revolution of a day: and that when the light goes from them, they are of necessity to fall. How much happier is he, (and who he is I need not say, for there is but one Phoenix in an Age,) who centring on himself, remains immovable, and smiles at the madness of the dance about him. He possesses the midst, which is the portion of safety and content: He will not be higher, because he needs it not; but by the prudence of that choice, he puts it out of fortune's power to throw him down. 'Tis confessed, that if he had not so been born, he might have been too high for happiness; but not endeavouring to ascend, he secures the native height of his station from envy; and cannot descend from what he is, because he depends not on another. What a glorious Character was this once in Rome; I should say in Athens, when in the disturbances of a State as mad as ours, the wise Pomponius transported all the remaining wisdom and virtue of his Country, into the Sanctuary of Peace and Learning. But, I would ask the World, (for you, My Lord, are too nearly concerned to judge this Cause) whether there may not yet be found, a Character of a Noble Englishman, equally shining with that illustrious Roman? Whether I need to name a second Atticus; or whether the World has not already prevented me, and fixed it there without my naming. Not a second with a longo sed proximus intervallo, not a Young Marcellus, flattered by a Poet, into a resemblance of the first, with a frons laeta parum, & dejecto lumina vultu, and the rest that follows, si qua fata aspera rumpas Tu Marcellus eris: But a Person of the same stamp and magnitude; who owes nothing to the former, besides the Word Roman, and the Superstition of reverence, devolving on him by the precedency of eighteen hundred years. One who walks by him with equal paces, and shares the eyes of beholders with him: One, who had been first, had he first lived; and in spite of doting veneration is still his equal. Both of them born of Noble Families in unhappy Ages, of change and tumult; both of them retiring from Affairs of State: Yet, not leaving the commonwealth, till it had left itself; but never returning to public business, when they had once quitted it; though courted by the Heads of either Party. But who would trust the quiet of their lives, with the extravagancies of their Countrymen, when they were just in the giddiness of their turning; when the ground was tottering under them at every moment; and none could guests whether the next heave of the Earthquake, would settle them on the first Foundation, or swallow it? Both of them knew Mankind exactly well; for both of them began that study in themselves; and there they found the best part of humane composition, the worst they learned by long experience of the folly, ignorance, and immorality of most beside them. Their Philosophy on both sides, was not wholly speculative, for that is barren, and produces nothing but vain Ideas of things which cannot possibly be known; or if they could, yet would only terminate in the understanding; but it was a noble, vigorous, and practical Philosophy, which exerted itself in all the offices of pity, to those who were unfortunate, and deserved not so to be. The Friend was always more considered by them than the cause: And an Octavius, or an Anthony in distress, were relieved by them, as well as a Brutus or a Cassius. For the lowermost party to a noble mind, is ever the fittest object of good will. The eldest of them, I will suppose for his honour, to have been of the academic Sect, neither Dogmatist nor Stoic; if he were not, I am sure he ought in common justice, to yield the precedency to his younger Brother. For stiffness of Opinion is the effect of Pride, and not of Philosophy: 'Tis a miserable Presumption of that knowledge which humane Nature is too narrow to contain. And the ruggedness of a Stoic is only a silly affectation of being a God: To wind himself up by Pulleys, to an insensibility of suffering; and at the same time to give the lie to his own Experience, by saying he suffers not, what he knows he feels. True, Philosophy is certainly of a more pliant Nature, and more accommodated to human use; Homo sum, humani à me nihil alienum puto. A wise man will never attempt an impossibility; and such it is to strain himself beyond the nature of his Being; either to become a Deity, by being above suffering, or to debase himself into a Stock or Stone, by pretending not to feel it. To find in ourselves the Weaknesses and Imperfections of our wretched Kind, is surely the most reasonable step we can make towards the Compassion of our fellow Creatures. I could give Examples of this kind in the second Atticus. In every turn of State, without meddling on either side, he has always been favourable and assisting to oppressed Merit. The Praises which were given by a great Poet to the late Queen Mother on her rebuilding Somerset Palace, one part of which was fronting to the mean Houses on the other side of the Water, are as justly his: 
For, the distressed, and the afflicted lie  
Most in his Thoughts, and always in his Eye.  Neither has he so far forgotten a poor Inhabitant of his Suburbs, whose best prospect is on the Garden of Leicester-House; but that more than once he has been offering him his Patronage, to reconcile him to a World, of which his Misfortunes have made him weary. There is another Sidney still remaining, though there can never be another Spencer to deserve the favour. But one Sidney gave his Patronage to the applications of a Poet; the other offered it unasked. Thus, whether as a second Atticus, or a second Sir Philip Sidney, the latter, in all respects, will not have the worse of the comparison; and if he will take up with the second place, the World will not so far flatter his Modesty, as to seat him there, unless it be out of a deference of Manners, that he may place himself where he pleases at his own Table.  
I may therefore safely conclude, that he, who by the consent of all men, bears so eminent a Character, will out of his inborn Nobleness, forgive the Presumption of this Address. 'Tis an unfinished Picture, I confess, but the Lines and Features are so like, that it cannot be mistaken for any other; and without writing any name under it, every beholder must cry out, at the first sight, this was designed for Atticus; but the bad Artist, has cast too much of him into shades. But I have this Excuse, that even the greater Masters commonly fall short of the best Faces. They may flatter an indifferent Beauty; but the excellencies of Nature, can have no right done to them: For there both the Pencil and the Pen are overcome by the Dignity of the Subject; as our admirable Waller has expressed it; The Hero's Race transcends the Poet's Thought.  
There are few in any Age who can bear the load of a Dedication; for where Praise is undeserved, 'tis satire: Tho satire on Folly is now no longer a Scandal to any one Person, where a whole Age is dipped together; yet I had rather undertake a Multitude one way, than a single Aiticus the other; for 'tis easier to descend, than 'tis to climb. I should have gone ashamed out of the World, if I had not at least attempted this Address, which I have long thought owing: And if I had never attempted, I might have been vain enough to think I might have succeeded in it: now I have made the Experiment, and have failed, through my Unworthiness. I may rest satisfied, that either the Adventure is not to be achieved, or that it is reserved for some other hand.  
Be pleased therefore, since the Family of the Attici is and aught to be above the common Forms of concluding Letters, that I may take my leave in the Words of Cicero to the first of them: Me, O Pomponi, valdè poenitet vivere: tantùm te oro, ut quoniam me ipse semper amâsti, ut eodem amore sis; ego nimirum, idem sum. Inimici mei mea mihi non meipsum ademerunt. Cura, Attice, ut valeas.  
Dabam Cal. Jan. 1690.   

THE PREFACE·  
WHether it happened through a long disuse of Writing, that I forgot the usual compass of a Play; or that by crowding it, with Characters and Incidents, I put a necessity upon myself of lenghthning the main Action, I know not; but the first days Audience sufficiently convinced me of my error; and that the Poem was insupportably too long. 'Tis an ill ambition of us Poets, to please an Audience with more than they can bear: And, supposing that we wrote as well, as vainly we imagine ourselves to write; yet we ought to consider, that no man can bear to be long tickled. There is a nauseousness in a City feast when we are to sit four hours after we are cloyed. I am, therefore, in the first place, to acknowledge with all manner of gratitude, their civility; who were pleased to endure it with so much patience, to be weary with so much good nature and silence, and not to explode an entertainment, which was designed to please them; or discourage an Author, whose misfortunes have once more brought him against his will, upon the Stage. While I continue in these bad circumstances, (and truly I see very little probability of coming out:) I must be obliged to write, and if I may still hope for the same kind usage, I shall the less repent of that hard necessity. I writ not this out of any expectation to be pitied; for I have Enemies enough to wish me yet in a worse condition; but give me leave to say, that if I can please by writing, as I shall endeavour it, the Town may be somewhat obliged to my misfortunes, for a part of their diversion. Having been longer acquainted with the Stage, than any Poet now living, and having observed how difficult it was to please; that the humours of Comedy were almost spent, that Love and Honour (the mistaken topics of Tragedy) were quite worn out, that the theatres could not support their charges, that the Audience forsook them, that young men without Learning set up for Judges, and that they talked loudest, who understood the least: all these discouragements had not only weaned me from the Stage, but had also given me a loathing of it. But enough of this: the difficulties continue; they increase, and I am still condemned to dig in those exhausted Mines. Whatever fault I next commit, rest assured it shall not be that of too much length: Above twelve hundred lines have been cut off from this Tragedy, since it was first delivered to the Actors. They were indeed so judiciously lopped by Mr. Betterton, to whose care and excellent action, I am equally obliged, that the connexion of the story was not lost; but on the other side, it was impossible to prevent some part of the action from being precipitated, and coming on without that due preparation, which is required to all great events: as in particular, that of raising the Mobile, in the beginning of the Fourth Act; which a Man of Benducar's cool Character, could not naturally attempt, without taking all those precautions, which he foresaw would be necessary to render his design successful. On this consideration, I have replaced those lines, through the whole Poem; and thereby restored it, to that clearness of conception, and (if I may dare to say it) that lustre, and masculine vigour, in which it was first written. 'Tis obvious to every understanding Reader, that the most poetical parts, which are Descriptions, Images, Similitudes, and Moral Sentences; are those, which of necessity were to be pared away, when the body was swollen into too large a bulk for the representation of the Stage. But there is a vast difference betwixt a public entertainment on the Theatre, and a private reading in the Closet: In the first we are confined to time, and though we talk not by the hourglass, yet the Watch often drawn out of the pocket, warns the Actors, that their Audience is weary; in the last, every Reader is judge of his own convenience; he can take up the book, and lay it down at his pleasure; and find out those beauties of propriety, in thought and writing, which escaped him in the tumult and hurry of representing. And I dare boldly promise for this Play, that in the roughness of the numbers and cadences, (which I assure was not casual, but so designed) you will see somewhat more masterly arising to your view, than in most, if not any of my former Tragedies. There is a more noble daring in the Figures and more suitable to the lostiness of the Subject; and besides this some newnesses of English, translated from the Beauties of Modern Tongues, as well as from the elegancies of the Latin; and here and there some old words are sprinkled, which for their significance and sound, deserved not to be antiquated; such as we often find in Sallust amongst the Roman Authors, and in Milton's Paradise amongst ours; though perhaps the latter instead of sprinkling, has dealt them with too free a hand, even sometimes to the obscuring of his sense.  
As for the story or plot of the Tragedy, 'tis purely fiction; for I take it up where the History has laid it down. We are assured by all Writers of those times, that Sebastian a young Prince of great courage and expectation, undertook that War partly upon a religious account, partly at the solicitation of Muley-Mahumet, who had been driven out of his Dominions, by Abdelmelech, or as others call him Muley-Moluch his nigh Kinsman, who descended from the same Family of the Xeriff's; whose Fathers Hamet and Mahomet had conquered that Empire with joint Forces; and shared it betwixt them after their victory: That the body of Don Sebastian was never found in the Field of battle; which gave occasion for many to believe, that he was not slain; that some years after, when the Spaniards with a pretended title, by force of Arms had usurped the Crown of Portugal, from the House of Braganza, a certain Person who called himself Don Sebastian, and had all the marks of his body and features of his face, appeared at Venice, where he was owned by some of his countrymen; but being seized by the Spaniards was first imprisoned, then sent to the galleys, and at last put to Death in private. 'Tis most certain, that the Portugueses expected his return for almost an Age together after that battle; which is at least a proof of their extreme love to his Memory; and the usage which they had from their new Conquerors, might possibly make them so extravagant in their hopes and wishes for their old Master.  
This ground work the History afforded me, and I desire no better to build a Play upon it: For where the event of a great action is left doubtful, there the Poet is left Master: He may raise what he pleases on that foundation, provided he makes it of a piece, and according to the rule of probability. From hence I was only obliged, that Sebastian should return to Portugal no more; but at the same time I had him at my own disposal, whether to bestow him in Africa, or in any other corner of the World, or to have elosed the Tragedy with his death; and the last of these was certainly the most easy, but for the same reason, the least artful; because as I have somewhere said, the poison and the dagger are still at hand, to butcher a hero, when a Poet wants the brains to save him. It being therefore only necessary according to the Laws of the Drama, that Sebastian should no more be seen upon the Throne, I leave it for the World to judge, whether or no I have disposed of him according to art, or have bungled up the conclusion of his adventure. In the drawing of his character I forgot not piety, which any one may observe to be one principal ingredient of it; even so far as to be a habit in him; though I show him once to be transported from it by the violence of a sudden passion, to endeavour a self murder. This being presupposed, that he was Religious, the horror of his incest, though innocently committed, was the best reason which the Stage could give for hindering his return. 'Tis true I have no right to blast his Memory, with such a crime: but declaring it to be fiction, I desire my Audience to think it no longer true, than while they are seeing it represented: For that once ended, he may be a Saint for aught I know; and we have reason to presume he is. On this supposition, it was unreasonable to have killed him; for the Learned Mr. Rymer has well observed, that in all punishments we are to regulate ourselves by Poetical justice; and according to those measures an involuntary sin deserves not death; from whence it follows, that to divorce himself from the beloved object, to retire into a desert, and deprive himself of a Throne, was the utmost punishment, which a Poet could inflict, as it was also the utmost reparation, which Sebastian could make. For what relates to Almeyda, her part is wholly fictitious: I know it is the surname of a noble Family in Portugal, which was very instrumental in the Restoration of Don John de Braganza, Father to the most Illustrious and most Pious Princess our Queen Dowager. The French Author of a Novel, called Don Sebastian, has given that name to an African Lady of his own invention, and makes her Sister to Muley-Mahumet. But I have wholly changed the accidents, and borrowed nothing but the supposition, that she was beloved by the King of Portugal. Tho, if I had taken the whole story, and wrought it up into a Play, I might have done it exactly according to the practice of almost all the Ancients; who were never accused of being Plagiaries, for building their Tragedies on known Fables. Thus Augustus Caesar wrote an Ajax, which was not the less his own, because Euripides had written a Play before him on that Subject. Thus of late years Corneille writ an Oedipus after Sophocles; and I have designed one after him, which I wrote with Mr. Lee, yet neither the French Poet stole from the Greek, nor we from the French man. 'Tis the contrivance, the new turn, and new characters, which altar the property and make it ours. The Materia Poetica is as common to all Writers, as the Materia Medica to all Physicians. Thus in our Chronicles, daniel's History is still his own, though Matthew Paris, Stow and Hollingshed writ before him, otherwise we must have been content with their dull relations, if a better Pen had not been allowed to come after them, and write his own account after a new and better manner.  
I must farther declare freely, that I have not exactly kept to the three mechanic rules of unity: I knew them and had them in my eye, but followed them only at a distance; for the Genius of the English cannot bear too regular a Play; we are given to variety, even to a debauchery of Pleasure. My Scenes are therefore sometimes broken, because my Vnder-plot required them so to be; though the General Scene remains of the same Castle, and I have taken the time of two days, because the variety of accidents, which are here represented, could not naturally be supposed to arrive in one: But to gain a greater Beauty, 'tis lawful for a Poet to supersede a less.  
I must likewise own, that I have somewhat deviated from the known History, in the death of Muley-Moluch, who, by all relations died of a fever in the battle, before his Army had wholly won the Field; but if I have allowed him another day of life, it was because I stood in need of so shining a Character of brutality, as I have given him; which is indeed the same, with that of the present Emperor Muley Ishmael, as some of our English Officers, who have been in his Court, have credibly informed me.  
I have been listening what objections had been made, against the conduct of the Play, but found them all so trivial, that if I should name them, a true critic would imagine that I played booty, and only raised up phantoms for myself to conquer. Some are pleased to say the Writing is dull; but aetatem habet de se loquatur. Others that the double poison is unnatural; let the common received opinion, and Ausonius his famous Epigram answer that. Lastly a more ignorant sort of Creatures than either of the former, maintain that the Character of Dorax, is not only unnatural, but inconsistent with itself; let them read the Play and think again, and if yet they are not satisfied, cast their eyes on that Chapter of the Wise Montaigne, which is entitled de l' Inconstance des actions humaines. A longer reply, is what those Cavillers deserve not; but I will give them and their fellows to understand, that the Earl of Dorset, was pleased to read the Tragedy twice over before it was Acted; and did me the favour to send me word, that I had written beyond any of my former Plays; and that he was displeased any thing should be cut away. If I have not reason to prefer his single judgement to a whole Faction, let the World be judge; for the opposition is the same with that of Lucan's hero against an Army; concurrere bellum, atque virum. I think I may modestly conclude, that whatever errors there may be, either in the design, or writing of this Play, they are not those which have been objected to it. I think also, that I am not yet arrived to the Age of doting; and that I have given so much application to this Poem, that I could not probably let it run into many gross absurdities; which may caution my Enemies from too rash a censure; and may also encourage my friends, who are many more than I could reasonably have expected, to believe their kindness has not been very undeservedly bestowed on me. This is not a Play that was huddled up in haste; and to show it was not, I will own, that beside the general Moral of it, which is given in the four last lines, there is also another Moral, couched under every one of the principal Parts and Characters, which a judicious critic will observe, though I point not to it in this Preface. And there may be also some secret Beauties in the decorum of parts, and uniformity of design, which my puny judges will not easily find out; let them consider in the last Scene of the fourth Act, whether I have not preserved the rule of decency, in giving all the advantage to the Royal Character; and in making Dorax first submit: Perhaps too they may have thought, that it was through indigence of Characters, that I have given the same to Sebastian and Almeyda; and consequently made them alike in all things but their Sex. But let them look a little deeper into the matter, and they will find that this identity of Character in the greatness of their Souls; was intended for a preparation of the final discovery, and that the likeness of their nature, was a fair hint to the proximity of their blood.  
To avoid the imputation of too much vanity (for all Writers, and especially Poets will have some) I will give but one other instance, in relation to the uniformity of the design. I have observed that the English will not bear a thorough Tragedy; but are pleased, that it should be lightened with underparts of mirth. It had been easy for me to have given my Audience a better course of Comedy, I mean a more diverting, than that of Antonio and Morayma. But I dare appeal even to my Enemies, if I or any man could have invented one, which had been more of a piece, and more depending, on the serious part of the design. For what could be more uniform, than to draw from out of the members of a Captive Court, the Subject of a Comical entertainment? To prepare this Episode, you see Dorax giving the Character of Antonio, in the beginning of the Play, upon his first sight of him at the Lottery; and to make the dependence, Antonio is engaged in the Fourth Act, for the deliverance of Almeyda; which is also prepared, by his being first made a Slave to the Captain of the Rabble.  
I should beg pardon for these instances; but perhaps they may be of use to future Poets, in the conduct of their Plays: At least if I appear too positive; I am growing old, and thereby, in possession of some experience, which men in years will always assume for a right of talking. Certainly, if a Man can ever have reason to set a value on himself, 'tis when his ungenerous Enemies are taking the advantage of the Times upon him, to ruin him in his reputation. And therefore for once, I will make bold to take the Counsel of my Old Master Virgil.  Tu, ne cede malis; sed, contrà, audentior ito.  

PROLOGUE TO done SEBASTIAN King of Portugal.  Spoken by a Woman. 

THE Judge removed, though he's not more My Lord,  
May plead at Bar, or at the Council-Board:  
So may cast Poets write; there's no pretention,  
To argue loss of Wit from loss of Pension.  
Your looks are cheerful; and in all this place  
I see not one, that wears a damning face.  
The British Nation, is too brave to show,  
Ignoble vengeance, on a vanquished foe,  
At least be civil to the Wretch imploring;  
And lay your Paws upon him, without roaring:  
Suppose our Poet was your foe before;  
Yet now, the business of the Field is over;  
'Tis time to let your Civil Wars alone,  
When Troops are into Winter-quarters gone.  
Jove was alike to Latian and to Phrygian;  
And you well know, a Play's of no Religion.  
Take good advice, and please yourselves this day;  
No matter from what hands you have the Play.  
Among good Fellows every health will pass,  
That serves to carry round another glass:  
When, with full bowls of Burgundy you dine,  
Tho at the Mighty Monarch you repine,  
You grant him still most Christian, in his Wine.   

Thus far the Poet, but his brains grow Addle;  
And all the rest is purely from this Noddle.  
You've seen young Ladies at the Senate door,  
Prefer Petitions, and your grace implore;  
How ever grave the Legislators were.  
Their Cause went ne'er the worse for being fair,  
Reasons as weak as theirs, perhaps I bring;  
But I could bribe you, with as good a thing.  
I heard him make advances of good Nature;  
That he for once, would sheathe his cutting satire:  
Sign but his Peace, he vows he'll ne'er again  
The sacred Names of Fops and Beaús profane.  
Strike up the Bargain quickly; for I swear,  
As Times go now, he offers very fair.  
Be not too hard on him, with Statutes neither,  
Be kind; and do not set your Teeth together,  
To stretch the Laws, as cobblers do their Leather.  
Horses, by Papists are not to be ridden;  
But sure the muse's Horse was ne'er forbidden.  
For in no Rate-Book, it was ever found  
That Pegasus was valued at Five-pound:  
Fine him to daily Drudging and Inditing;  
And let him pay his Taxes out, in Writing.    

Don Sebastian, King of Portugal.  

ACT I. SCENE i  The Scene at Alcazar, representing a marketplace under the Castle. Muley-Zeydan, Benducar. Muly-Zeyd. 
NOW Affrica's long Wars are at an end;  
And our parched earth is drenched in Christian Blood,  
My conquering Brother will have Slaves enough,  
To pay his cruel Vows for Victory.  
What hear you of Sebastian, King of Portugal?  Benducar. 
He fell among a heap of slaughtered Moor;  
Though yet his mangled Carcase is not found.  
The Rival of our threatened Empire, Mahumet,  
Was hot pursued; and in the general rout,  
Mistook a swelling Current for a ford;  
And in Mucazer's Flood was seen to rise;  
Thrice was he seen; at length his Courser plunged,  
And threw him off; the Waves whelmed over him,  
And helpless in his heavy arms he drowned.  Mul. Zeyd. 
Thus, then, a doubtful Title is extinguished:  
Thus, Moluch, still the favourite of Fate,  
Swims in a sanguine torrent to the Throne.  
As if our Prophet only worked for him:  
The Heavens and all the Stars are his hired Servants.  
As Muley-Zeydan were not worth their care,  
And younger Brothers but the draft of Nature.  Bend. 
Be still, and learn the soothing Arts of Court;  
Adore his fortune, mix with flattering Crowds,  
And when they praise him most, be you the loudest;  
Your Brother is luxurious, close, and cruel▪  
Generous by fits, but permanent in mischief.  
The shadow of a discontent would ruin us;  
We must be safe before we can be great:  
These things observed, leave me to shape the rest.  Mul. Zeyd. 
You have the Key, he opens inward to you.  Bend. 
So often tried, and ever found so true,  
Has given me trust, and trust has given me means  
Once to be false for all. I trust not him▪  
For now his ends are served, and he grown absolute,  
How am I sure to stand who served those ends?  
I know your nature open, mild, and grateful;  
In such a Prince the People may be blessed,  
And I be safe.  Mul. Zeyd. 
My Father! Embracing him.  Bend. 
My future King! (auspicious Maley-Zeydan:)  
Shall I adore you? No, the place is public;  
I worship you within; the outward act  
Shall be reserved till Nations follow me,  
And Heaven shall envy you the kneeling World.  
You know th' Alcald of Alcazar, Dorax?  Mul. Zeyd. 
The gallant Renegade you mean?  Bend. 
The same:  
That gloomy outside, like a rusty Chest,  
Contains the shining Treasure of a Soul,  
Resolved and brave; he has the soldier's hearts,  
And time shall make him ours.  Mul. 
He's just upon us.  Bend. 
I know him from a far,  
By the long stride and by the sullen port:  
Retire my Lord.  
Wait on your brother's Triumph, yours is next,  
His growth is but a wild and fruitless Plant,  
I'll cut his barren branches to the stock,  
And graft you on to bear.  Mul. Zeyd. 
My Oracle! Exit Muley-Zeyd.  Bend. 
Yes, to delude your hopes, poor credulous Fool,  
To think that I would give away the Fruit  
Of so much toil, such guilt, and such damnation;  
If I am damned, it shall be for myself:  
This easy Fool must be my stolen, set up  
To catch the people's eyes; he's tame and merciful,  
Him I can manage, till I make him odious  
By some unpopular act, and then dethrone him.  Enter Dorax. 
Now Dorax!  Dorax, 
Well Bemboucar!  Bend. 
Bare Bemboucar!  Dor. 
Thou wouldst have Titles, take 'em then, Chief Minister,  
First Hangman of the State.  Bend. 
Some call me Favourite.  Dorax, 
What's that, his Minion?  
Thou art too old to be a Catamite!  
Now prithee tell me, and abate thy pride,  
Is not Benducar Bare, a better Name  
In a Friend's mouth, than all those gaudy Titles,  
Which I disdain to give the Man I love?  Bend. 
But always out of humour,—  Dorax, 
I have cause:  
Tho all mankind is cause enough for satire.  Bend. 
Why then thou hast revenged thee on mankind,  
They say in fight, thou hadst a thirsty Sword,  
And well 'twas glutted there.  Dorax, 
I spitted Frogs, I crushed a heap of Emmets,  
A hundred of 'em to a single Soul,  
And that but scanty weight too: the great Devil  
Scarce thanked me for my pains, he swallows Vulgar  
Like whipped Cream, feels 'em not in going down.  Bend. 
Brave Renegade! Couldst thou not meet Sebastian?  
Thy Master had been worthy of thy Sword.  Dorax, 
My Master? By what title,  
Because I happened to be born where he  
Happened to be a King? And yet I served him,  
Nay, I was fool enough to love him too.  
You know my story, how I was rewarded,  
For Fifteen hard Campaigns, still hooped in Iron,  
And why I turned Mahometan: I'm grateful,  
But whosoever dares to injure me,  
Let that man know, I dare to be revenged.  Bend. 
Still you run off from bias; say what moves  
Your present spleen?  Dorax, 
You marked not what I told you:  
I killed not one that was his maker's Image;  
I met with none but vulgar two-legged Brutes.  
Sebastian was my aim; he was a Man:  
Nay, though he hated me, and I hate him,  
Yet I must do him right; he was a Man,  
Above man's height, even towering to Divinity.  
Brave, pious, generous, great, and liberal:  
Just as the Scales of Heaven that weigh the Seasons,  
He loved his People, him they idolised:  
And thence proceeds my mortal hatred to him,  
That thus unblameable to all besides  
He erred to me alone:  
His goodness was diffused to human kind.  
And all his cruelty confined to me.  Bend. 
You could not meet him then?  Dorax, 
No, though I sought  
Where ranks fell thickest; 'twas indeed the place  
To seek Sebastian: through a tract of Death  
I followed him, by Groans of dying Foes,  
But still I came too late, for he was flown  
Like Ligtning, swift before me to new Slaughters,  
I mowed across, and made irregular Harvest,  
Defaced the pomp of battle, but in vain,  
For he was still supplying Death elsewhere:  
This mads me that perhaps ignoble hands  
Have overlaid him, for they could not conquer:  
Murdered by Multitudes, whom I alone  
Had right to slay; I too would have been slain,  
That catching hold upon his flitting Ghost  
I might have robbed him of his opening heaven;  
And dragged him down with me, spite of Predestination.  Bend. 
'Tis of as much import as Affric's worth  
To know what came of him, and of Almeyda  
The Sister of the vanquished mohammed,  
Whose fatal Beauty to her Brother drew  
The Lands third part, as Lucifer did heavens.  Dor. 
I hope she died in her own Female calling,  
Choked up with Man, and gorged with Circumcision.  
As for Sebastian we must search the Field,  
And where we see a Mountain of the Slain,  
Send one to climb, and looking down below  
There he shall find him at his Manly length  
With his face up to heaven, in the red Monument,  
Which his true Sword has digged.  Bend. 
Yet we may possibly hear farther news;  
For while our Africans pursued the Chase,  
The Captain of the Rabble issued out,  
With a black shirt-less train to spoil the dead,  
And seize the living.  Dor. 
Each of 'em an host,  
A Million strong of vermin every Villain:  
No part of Government, but Lords of Anarchy,  
Chaos of Power, and privileged destruction.  Bend. 
Yet I must tell you Friend the Great must use 'em,  
Sometimes as necessary tools of tumult.  Dor. 
I would use 'em  
Like Dogs in times of Plague, outlaws of Nature,  
Fit to be shot and brained; without a process,  
To stop infection, that's their proper death.  Bend. 
No more,  
Behold the Emperor coming to survey  
The Slaves in order to perform his Vow.  Enter Muley-Moluch the Emperor, with Attendants. The Mufty, and Muley Zeydan. Moluch. 
Our Armours now may rust, our idle scymitars  
Hang by our sides, for Ornament not use:  
Children shall beat our Atabals and Drums,  
And all the noisy trades of War, no more  
Shall wake the peaceful morn: the Xeriff's blood  
No longer in divided Channels runs,  
The younger House took end in Mahumet.  
Nor shall Sebastian's formidable Name,  
Be longer used to lull the crying babe!  Mufty. 
For this Victorious day our Mighty Prophet  
Expects your gratitude, the Sacrifice  
Of Christian Slaves, devoted, if you won.  Mol. 
The purple present shall be richly paid:  
That Vow performed, fasting shall be abolished:  
None ever served heaven well with a starved face:  
Preach Abstinence no more; I tell thee Mufty  
Good feasting is devout: and thou our Head,  
Hast a Religious, ruddy Countenance:  
We will have learned Luxury: our lean Faith  
Gives scandal to the Christians; they feed high;  
Then look for shoals of Converts, when thou hast  
Reformed us into feasting.  Muf. 
Fasting is but the Letter of the Law:  
Yet it shows well to Preach it to the Vulgar.  
Wine is against our Law, that's literal too,  
But not denied to Kings and to their Guides,  
Wine is a Holy Liquor, for the Great. Dorax aside.  
This Mufti in my conscience is some English  
Renegade, he talks so savourly of toping.  Mol. 
Bring forth th' unhappy relics of the War.  Enter Mustapha Captain of the Rabble with his followers of the Black Guard, etc. and other Moors: with them a Company of Portuguese Slaves without any of the chief Persons. M. Mol. 
These are not fit to pay an Emperor's Vow;  
Our Bulls and Rams had been more noble Victims;  
These are but garbage not a Sacrifice.  Muf. 
The Prophet must not pick and choose his offerings;  
Now he has given the Day, 'tis past recalling:  
And he must be content with such as these.  M. Mol. 
But are these all? Speak you who are their Masters.  Musta. 
All upon my Honour: If you'll take 'em as their Fathers got 'em, so. If not, you must stay till they get a better generation: These Christians are mere bunglers; they procreate nothing but out of their own Wives; And these have all the looks of Eldest Sons.  M. Mol. 
Pain of your lives let none conceal a Slave.  Must. 
Let every Man look to his own Conscience, I am sure mine shall never hang me.  Bend. 
Thou speakest as thou wert privy to concealments:  
Then thou art an Accomplice.  Must. 
Nay if Accomplices must suffer, it may go hard with me; but here's the Devil on't, there's a Great Man and a Holy Man too, concerned with me. Now if I confess, he'll be sure to scape between his Greatness and his Holiness, and I shall be murdered, because of my Poverty and Rascality.  Musti winking at him. 

Then if thy silence-save the Great and Holy,  
'Tis sure thou shalt go strait to Paradise   Must. 
'Tis a fine place they say; but Doctor I am not worthy on't: I am contented with this homely World, 'tis good enough for such a poor rascally Musulman as I am: Besides I have learned so much good manners, Doctor, as to let my Betters be served before me.  M. Mol. 
Thou talk'st as if the Mufty were concerned:  Must. 
Your Majesty may lay your Soul on't: but for my part, though I am a plain Fellow, yet I scorn to be tricked into paradise, I would he should know it. The troth on't is an't like you, His reverence bought of me the flower of all the Market; these— these are but dog's meat to 'em, and a round price he paid me too I'll say that for him; but not enough for me to venture my neck for: If I get paradise when my time comes I can't help myself; but I'll venture nothing beforehand, upon a blind Bargain.  M. Mol. 
Where are those Slaves? produce 'em.  Mus. 
They are not what he says.  M. Mol. 
No more excuses. One goes out to fetch them.  
Know thou may'st better dally  
With a dead Prophet, than a living King.  Mus. 
I but reserved 'em to present thy Greatness  
An offering worthy thee.  Must. 
By the same token there was a dainty Virgin, (Virgin said I! but I won't be too positive of that neither) with a roguish leering eye! he paid me down for her upon the nail a thousand golden Sultanins; or he had never had her I can tell him that: Now is it very likely he would pay so dear for such a delicious Morsel, and give it away out of his own mouth; when it had such a farewell with it too?  Enter Sebastian conducted in mean habit, with Alvarez, Antonio, and Almeyda: her face veiled with a Barnus. M. Mol. 
Ay; These look like the Workmanship of heaven:  
This is the porcelain clay of human kind,  
And therefore cast into these noble moulds.  Dorax aside while the Emperor whispers Benducar. 
By all my wrongs  
'Tis he; damnation seize me but 'tis he▪  
My heart heaves up and swells; he's poison to me;  
My injured honour, and my ravished love,  
Bleed at their murderer's sight.  bend to Dor. aside. 
The Emperor would learn these prisoners names;  
You know 'em.  Dor. 
Tell him, no.  
And trouble me no more.— I will not know 'em.  
Shall I trust heaven, that heaven which I renounced, Aside.  
With my revenge? then, where's my satisfaction?  
No, it must be my own; I scorn a Proxy.  M. Mol. 
'Tis decreed,  
These of a better aspect, with the rest  
Shall share one common Doom, and Lots decide it.  
For every numbered Captive put a ball  
Into an Urn; three only black be there,  
The rest, all white, are safe.  Muf. 
Hold Sir, the Woman must not draw.  M. Mol. 
O Mufti.  
We know your reason, let her share the danger.  Muf. 
Our Law says plainly Women have no Souls:  M. Mol. 
'Tis true; their Souls are mortal, set her by:  
Yet were Almeyda here, though Fame reports her  
The fairest of her Sex, so much unseen,  
I hate the Sister of our Rival House,  
Ten thousand such dry Notions of our Alcoran  
Should not protect her life; if not Immortal:  
die as she could, all of a piece, the better,  
That none of her remain.  Here an urn is brought in: the prisoners approach with great concernment; and among the rest Sebastian, Alvarez and Antonio; who come more cheerfully. Dor. 
Poor abject Creatures how they fear to die! Aside.  
These never knew one happy hour in life,  
Yet shake to lay it down: is load so pleasant?  
Or has heaven hid the happiness of Death  
That Men may bear to live?— Now for our Heroes.  The three approach. 
O, these come up with Spirits more resolved!  
Old venerable Alvarez, well I know him,  
The favourite once of this Sebastian's Father;  
Now Minister; (too honest for his Trade)  
Religion bears him out, a thing taught young,  
In Age ill practised, yet his prop in Death.  
O, he has drawn a black; and smiles upon't,  
As who should say my Faith and Soul are white  
Tho my Lot swarthy: Now if there be hereafter  
He's blessed; if not, well cheated, and dies pleased.  Anton. holding his Lot in his clenched hand. 
Here I have thee,  
Be what thou wilt: I will not look too soon.  
Thou hast a colour; if thou provest not right.  
I have a minute good ere I behold thee.  
Now, Let me roll, and grubble thee,  
Blind Men say white feels smooth, and black feels rough;  
Thou hast a rugged skin; I do not like thee.  Dor. 
There's th' Amorous airy spark, Antonio;  
The wittiest woman's toy in Portugal.  
Lord what a loss of Treats and Serenades!  
The whole She Nation will b' in mourning for him.  Antonio. 
I've a moist sweaty palm; the more's my Sin;  
If it be black, yet only died, not odious  
Damned Natural Ebony, there's hope in rubbing  
To wash this Ethiope white.— (Looks) Pox of the Proverb!  
As black as Hell: another lucky saying!  
I think the Devils in me:— good again,  
I cannot speak one syllable, but tends  
To Death or to Damnation. Holds up his ball.  Dor. 
He looks uneasy at his future Journey: Aside.  
And wishes his Boots off again; for fear  
Of a bad Road, and a worse Inn at night.  
Go to bed fool, and take secure repose  
For thou shalt wake no more.  (Sebastian comes up to draw.) M. Mol. 
to Ben. Mark him who now approaches to the Lott'ry,  
He looks secure of Death, superior greatness,  
Like Jove when he made Fate, and said thou art  
The Slave of my Creation; I admire him.  Bend. 
He looks as Man was made, with face erect,  
That scorns his brittle corpse, and seems ashamed  
He's not all spirit, his eyes with a dumb Pride,  
Accusing Fortune that he fell not warm:  
Yet now disdains to live. (Sebast. draws a black.)  M. Mol. 
He has his wish;  
And I have failed of mine!  Dor. 
Robbed of my Vengeance, by a trivial chance! Aside.  
Fine work above, that their anointed care  
Should die such little Death: or did his Genius  
Know mine the stronger daemon, feared the grapple,  
And looking round him, found this nook of fate  
To skulk behind my Sword; shall I discover him?  
Still he would die not mine: no thanks to my  
Revenge: reserved but to more royal shambles.  
'Twere base too; and below those Vulgar Souls,  
That shared his danger, yet not one disclosed him:  
But struck with reverence kept an awful silence.  
I'll see no more of this: Dog of a Prophet! Exit Dorax.  Mul. Mol. 
One of these Three is a whole Hecatomb;  
And therefore only one of 'em shall die.  
The Rest are but mute Cattle; and when Death  
Comes, like a rushing Lion, couch like Spaniels,  
With lolling tongues, and tremble at the paw,  
Let Lots again decide it.  (The Three draw again: and the Lot falls on Sebastian.) Sebast. 
Then there's no more to manage! if I fall  
It shall be like myself; a setting Sun  
Should leave a tract of Glory in the Skies.  
Behold Sebastian King of Portugal.  M. Mol. 
Sebastian! Ha'! it must be he; no other  
Could represent such suffering Majesty:  
I saw him, as he terms himself, a Sun  
Struggling in dark Eclipse, and shooting day  
On either side of the black Orb that veiled him.  Sebast. 
Not less even in this despicable now,  
Than when my Name filled Africa with affrights,  
And froze your hearts beneath your torrid Zone.  Bend. 
to M. Mol. Extravagantly brave! Even to an Impudence  
Of Greatness.  Sebast. 
Here satiate all your fury;  
Let fortune empty her whole Quiver on me,  
I have a Soul, that like an ample Shield  
Can take in all; and verge enough for more.  
I would have conquered you; and ventured only  
A narrow neck of Land for a third World;  
To give my loosened Subjects room to play.  
Fate was not mine,  
Nor am I Fate's: Now I have pleased my longing,  
And trod the ground which I beheld from far,  
I beg no pity for this mouldering Clay:  
For if you give it burial there it takes  
Possession of your Earth:  
If burnt and scattered in the air: the Winds  
That strew my dust, diffuse my royalty,  
And spread me o'er your Clime: for where one atom  
Of mine shall light; know there Sebastian Reigns.  M. Mol. 
What shall I do to conquer thee?  Seb. 
Impossible!  
Souls know no Conquerors.  M. Mol. 
I'll show thee for a Monster through my Africa.  Seb. 
No thou canst only show me for a Man:  
Africa is stored with Monsters; Man's a Prodigy,  
Thy Subjects have not seen.  Mul. M. 
Thou talk'st as if  
Still at the head of battle.  Seb. 
Thou mistak'st,  
For than I would not talk.  Bend. 
Sure he would sleep.  Sebast. 
Till doomsday; when the Trumpet sounds to rise;  
For that's a Soldiers call,  M. Mol. 
Thou'rt brave too late:  
Thou shouldst have died in battle, like a Soldier,  Seb. 
I fought and fell like one, but Death deceived me,  
I wanted weight of feeble Moors upon me,  
To crush my Soul out.  M. Mol. 
Still untameable!  
In what a ruin has thy headstrong Pride,  
And boundless thirst of Empire plunged thy People.  Sebast. 
What sayest thou, ha'! No more of that.  M. Mol. 
Behold,  
What Carcases of thine thy Crimes has strewed,  
And left our Africa Vultures to devour.  Bend. 
Those Souls were those thy God entrusted with thee,  
To cherish not destroy.  Sebast. 
Witness, O Heaven, how much  
This sight concerns me! Would I had a Soul  
For each of these: How gladly would I pay  
The Ransom down: But since I have but one,  
'Tis a King's life, and freely 'tis bestowed.  
Not your false Prophet, but eternal Justice  
Has destined me the Lot, to die for these:  
'Tis fit a Sovereign so should pay such Subjects;  
For Subjects such as they are seldom seen,  
Who not forsaken me at my greatest need;  
Nor for base lucre sold their Loyalty,  
But shared my dangers to the last event,  
And fenced 'em with their own: These thanks I pay you:  Wipes his Eyes. 
And know, that when Sebastian weeps, his Tears  
Come harder than his Blood.  M. Mol. 
They plead too strongly  
To be withstood: My Clouds are gathering too,  
In kindly mixture with this Royal shower:  
Be safe, and own thy Life, not to my gift,  
But to the greatness of thy mind, Sebastian:  
Thy Subjects too shall live; a due reward  
For their untainted Faith, in thy concealment.  Mufti, 
Remember, Sir, your Vow. A general shout.  Mul. M. 
Do thou remember  
Thy Function, Mercy, and provoke not blood.  Mul. Zeyd. 
One of his generous Fits, too strong to last.  Aside to Benducar. Bend. 
The Mufti reddons, mark that holy Cheek. To him.  
He frets within, froths Treason at his mouth,  
And churns it through his teeth; leave me to work him.  Sebast. 
A mercy unexpected, undesired,  
Surprises more: You've learned the art to vanquish:  
You could not (give me leave to tell you Sir)  
Have given me life but in my subject's safety:  
Kings, who are Fathers, live but in their People.  M. Mol. 
Still great, and grateful, that's thy character.  
Unveil the Woman; I would view the Face  
That warmed our Mufti's Zeal:  
These pious Parrots peck the fairest Fruit:  
Such Tasters are for Kings.  Officers go to Almeyda to unveil her. Almeyda, 
Stand off ye Slaves, I will not be unveiled.  M. Mol. 
Slave is thy Title: Force her.  Seb. 
On your lives,  
Approach her not.  M. Mol. 
How's this!  Seb. 
Sir pardon me,  
And hear me speak.—  Almeyda, 
Hear me; I will be heard:  
I am no Slave; the noblest blood of Africa  
Runs in my Veins; a purer stream than thine;  
For, though derived from the same Source, thy Current  
Is puddled, and defiled with Tyranny.  M. Mol. 
What Female Fury have we here!  Almeyda, 
I should be one,  
Because of kin to thee: wouldst thou be touched  
By the presuming hands of saucy Grooms?  
The same respect, nay more, is due to me:  
More for my Sex; the same for my descent.  
These hands are only fit to draw the Curtain.  
Now, if thou darest behold Almeydas face. Vnveils herself.  Bend. 
Would I had never seen it! aside.  Almeyda, 
She whom thy Mufti taxed to have no Soul;  
Let Africa now be judge;  
Perhaps thou thinkest I meanly hope to 'scape.  
As did Sebastian when he owned his greatness.  
But to remove that scruple know, base Man,  
My murdered Father, and my Brother's Ghost  
Still haunt this breast, and prompt it to revenge.  
Think not I could forgive nor dare thou pardon.  M. Mol. 
Wouldst thou revenge thee, Trait'ress, hadst thou power?  Alm. 
Traitor, I would; the Name's more justly thine:  
Thy Father was not more than mine, the Heir  
Of this large Empire; but with arms united  
They fought their way, and seized the Crown by force:  
And equal as their danger was their share:  
For where was Eldership, where none had right,  
But that which Conquest gave? 'Twas thy ambition  
Pulled from my peaceful Father what his Sword  
Helped thine to gain: surprised him and his Kingdom,  
No provocation given, no War declared.  M. Mol. 
I'll hear no more.  Alm. 
This is the living Coal that burning in me  
Would flame to vengeance, could it find a vent.  
My Brother too, that lies yet scarcely cold  
In his deep watery bed: My wand'ring Mother,  
Who in exile died.  
O that I had the fruitful Heads of Hydra,  
That one might bourgeon where another sell!  
Still would I give thee work; still, still, thou Tyrant,  
And hiss thee with the last.  M. Mol. 
Something, I know not what, comes over me:  
Whether the toils of battle, unrepaird  
With due repose, or other sudden qualm.  
Benducar do the rest. Goes off, the Court follows him.  Bend. 
Strange; in full health! This pang is of the Soul;  
The Body's unconcerned: I'll think hereafter.  
Conduct these Royal Captives to the Castle;  
Bid Dorax use 'em well, till farther order. Going off, stops.  
The inferior Captives their first owners take,  
To sell, or to dispose.— You, Mustapha,  
Set open the Market for the sale of Slaves Exit Benducar.  The Masters and Slaves come forward, and Buyers of several Qualities come in and chaffer about the several Owners, who make their Slaves do Tricks. Mustapha, 
My Chattels are come into my hands again, and my Conscience will serve me to sell 'em twice over; any price now, before the Musti comes to claim 'em.  First Merchant to Mustapha. 
What dost hold that old Fellow at? Pointing to Alvarez.  
He's tough, and has no service in his limbs.  Must. 
I confess he's somewhat tough; but I suppose you would not boil him. I ask for him a thousand Crowns.  1 saint. Mer. 
Thou meanest a thousand Marvedi's.  Must. 
Prithee Friend, give me leave to know my own meaning.  1 saint. Mer. 
What virtues has he to deserve that price?  Must. 
Marry come up Sir! Virtues quoth ah! I took him in the King's Company; he's of a great Family, and rich, What other Virtues wouldst thou have in a nobleman?  1 saint. Mer. 
I buy him with another man's Purse, that's my comfort.  
My Lord Dorax, the Governor, will have him at any rate:—  
There's Handsel.  
Come, old Fellow, to the Castle.  Alvar. 
To what is miserable Age reserved! Aside.  
But oh the King! And oh the fatal Secret!  
Which I have kept thus long, to time it better,  
And now I would disclose, 'tis past my power.  Exit with his Master. Must. 
Something of a Secret, and of the King I heard him mutter: A Pimp I warrant him, for I am sure he is an old Courtier.  
Now to put off t'other remnant of my merchandise,—  
Stir up, Sirrah to Antonio.  Anton. 
Dog, what wouldst thou have!  Must. 
Learn better manners, or I shall serve you a dogtrick; come, down upon all four immediately;  
I'll make you know your Rider.  Ant. 
Thou wilt not make a Horse of me?  Must. 
Horse or Ass, that's as thy Mother made thee:—  
But take earnest in the first place for thy Sawcyness.  Lashes him with his Whip. 
Be advised Friend, and buckle to thy jeers: Behold my Ensign of Royalty displayed over thee.  Ant. 
I hope one day to use thee worse in Portugal.  Must. 
Ay, and good reason, Friend, if thou catchest me a conquering on thy side of the water, lay me on lustily, I'll take it as kindly as thou dost this.—  Holds up his Whip. Antonio lying down. 
Hold my dear Thrum-eap: I obey thee cheerfully,  
I see the Doctrine of nonresistance is never practised thoroughly but when a Man can't help himself.  Enter a Second Merchant. 2 d. Merchant. 
You, Friend, I would see that Fellow do his Postures.  Mustapha bridling Antonio. 
Now Sirrah follow, for you have rope enough:  
To your paces Villain, amble, trot, and gallop:—  
Quick, about there.— Yeap, the more Money's bidden for you, the more your credit.  Antonio follows at the end of the Bridle on his hands and feet, and does all his Postures. 2 d. Merch. 
He's well chined, and has a tolerable good back; that's half in half. [To Mustapha.] I would see him strip, has he no Diseases about him?  Must. 
He's the best piece of Man's flesh in the Market, not an eyesore in his whole body: Feel his Legs, Master, neither Splint, Spavin, nor Wind gall. Claps him on the shoulder.  Merchant feeling about him, and then putting his hand to his side. 
Out upon him, how, his flank heaves! The Whorson's broken-winded.  Must. 
Thick breathed a little: Nothing but a sorry cold with lying out a nights in Trenches;— but sound Wind and Limb, I warrant him.  
Try him at a lose trot a little.  Puts the Bridle into his hand, he stroke him. Anton. 
For Heaven's sake Owner spare me; you know I am but new broken.  2 d. Merch. 
'Tis but a washy Jade, I see: What do you ask for this Bauble?  Must. 
Bauble do you call him; he's a substantial truebred Beast; bravely forehanded; mark but the cleanness of his shapes too; his Dam may be a Spanish jennet, but a true Barb by the Sire, or I have no skill in horseflesh.—  
Marry I ask Six Hundred Xeriffs for him.  Enter Mufti. Mufti, 
What's that you are ask, Sirrah?  Must. 
Marry, I ask your Reverence Six Hundred Pardons; I was doing you a small piece of service here, putting off your Chattel for you.  Mufti, 
And putting the money into your own Pocket.  Must. 
Upon vulgar reputation, no my Lord, it was for your profit and emolument. What, wrong the Head of my Religion? I was sensible you would have damned me, or any man that should have injured you in a single Farthing; for I knew that was Sacrifice.  Mufti, 
Sacrilege you mean, Sirrah,— and damning shall be the least part of your punishment; I have taken you in the manner, and will have the Law upon you.  Must. 
Good my Lord, take pity upon a poor man in this World, and damn me in the next.  Mufti, 
No Sirrah, so you may repent, and scape punishment: Did not you sell this very Slave amongst the rest to me, and take money for him.  Must. 
Right my Lord.  Mufti, 
And selling him again? Take money twice for the same Commodity? Oh, Villain!  
But did you not know him to be my Slave, Sirrah?  Must. 
Why should I lie to your honour, I did know him; and thereupon, seeing him wander about; I took him up for a stray, and impounded him, with intention to restore him to the right Owner.  Mufti, 
And yet at the same time was selling him to another: How rarely the Story hangs together.  Must. 
Patience, my Lord.  
I took him up, as your Heriot, with intention to have made the best of him, and then have brought the whole product of him in a Purse to you; for I know you would have spent half of it upon your pious Pleasures, have hoarded up the other half, and given the remainder in Charities to the Poor.  Mufti, 
And what's become of my other Slave? Thou hast sold him too I have a villainous suspicion.  Must. 
I know you have, my Lord; but while I was managing this young robustous Fellow, that old Spark who was nothing but Skin and Bone, and by consequence, very nimble, slipped through my fingers like an Eel, for there was no hold fast of him, and ran away to buy himself a new Master.  Mufti to Antonio. 
Fellow me home, Sirrah: [to Must.] I shall remember you some other time. Exit Mufti with Antonio.  Must. 
I never doubted your lordship's memory, for an ill turn: And I shall remember him too in the next rising of the Mobile, for this act of Resumption; and more especially for the Ghostly Counsel he gave me before the Emperor, to have hanged myself in silence, to have saved his Reverence. The best on't is, I am beforehand with him, for selling one of his Slaves twice over.— And if he had not come just in the nick, I might have pocketed up t'other: For what should a poor Man do, that gets his living by hard labour, but pray for bad times when he may get it easily. O, for some incomparable Tumult! Then should I naturally wish, that the beaten Party might prevail, because we have plundered t'other side already, and there's nothing more to get of 'em.  
Both rich and poor for their own interest pray,  
'Tis ours to make our fortune's while we may;  
For Kingdoms are not conquered every day.  Exit Mustaph.  

ACT II.  

Scene 1. Supposed to be a terrace Walk, on the side of the Castle of Alcazar.  Emperor. Benducar. Emper. 
AND thinkest thou not it was discovered?  Bend. 
No:  
The thoughts of Kings are like religious Groves,  
The Walks of muffled Gods▪ Sacred retreat,  
Where none but whom they please t'admit, approach.  Emp. 
Did not my conscious Eyes flash out a Flame  
To lighten those brown horrors, and disclose  
The secret path I trod?  Bend. 
I could not find it, till you lent a Clue  
To that close Labarynth; how then should they?  Emp. 
I would be loath they should: it breeds contempt  
For Herds to listen, or presume to pry,  
When the hurt Lion groans within his Den:  
But is it not strange?  Bend. 
To love? not more than 'tis to live; a Tax  
Imposed on all by Nature, paid in kind,  
Familiar as our being.  Emp. 
Still 'tis strange  
To me: I know my Soul as wild as winds,  
That sweep the deserts of our moving Plains;  
Love might as well be sowed upon our Sands,  
As in a breast so barren:  
To love an Enemy, the only One  
Remaining too, whom yester Sun beheld,  
mustering her charms, and rolling as she passed,  
By every Squadron her alluring eyes:  
To edge her champion's Swords, and urge my ruin.  
The shouts of Soldiers, and the burst of Cannon,  
Maintain even still a deaf and murmuring noise;  
Nor is heaven yet recovered of the sound  
Her battle roused; Yet spite of me I love.  Bend. 
What then controls you?  
Her Person is as prostrate as her Party.  Emp. 
A thousand things control this Conqueror,  
My native pride to own th'unworthy passion,  
Hazard of interest, and my people's love:  
To what a Storm of Fate am I exposed!  
What if I had her murdered? 'tis but what  
My Subjects all expect, and she deserves.  
Would not th' impossibility  
Of ever, ever seeing, or possessing,  
Calm all this rage, this Hurrican of Soul?  Bend. 
That ever, ever,  
I marked the double, shows extreme reluctance  
To part with her for ever.  Emp. 
Right thou hast me,  
I would, but cannot kill: I must enjoy her:  
I must, and what I must be sure I will.  
What's Royalty but power to please myself?  
And if I dare not, then am I the Slave,  
And my own Slaves the Sovereigns,— 'tis resolved,  
Weak Princes flatter when they want the power  
To curb their People; tender Plants must bend,  
But when a Government is grown to strength,  
Like some old Oak, rough with its armed Bark,  
It yields not to the tug, but only nods,  
And turns to sullen State.  Bend. 
Then you resolve  
T'implore her pity, and to beg relief?  Emp. 
Death, must I beg the pity of my Slave?  
Must a King beg? Yes, Love's a greater King;  
A Tyrant, nay a Devil that possesses me:  
He tunes the Organs of my voice, and speaks  
Unknown to me within me; bushes me,  
And drives me on by force.—  
Say I should wed her, would not my wise Subjects  
Take check, and think it strange? perhaps revolt?  Bend. 
I hope they would not.  Emp. 
Then thou doubtest they would?  Bend. 
To whom?  Emp. 
To her  
Perhaps, or to my Brother, or to Thee.  Bend. in disorder. 
To me! me did you mention? how I tremble!  
The name of Treason shakes my honest Soul.  
If I am doubted, Sir,  
Secure yourself this moment, take my life.  Emp. 
No more: if I suspected thee— I would.  Bend. 
I thank your kindness: gild had almost lost me! Aside.  Emp. 
But clear my doubts: thinkest thou they may rebel.  Bend. aside. 
This goes as I would wish:— (to th' Emp.) 'Tis possible.  
A secret Party still remains, that lurks  
Like Embers raked in ashes— wanting but  
A breath to blow aside th'involving dust,  
And then they blaze abroad.  Emp. 
They must be trampled out.  Bend. 
But first be known.  Emp. 
Torture shall force it from 'em.  Bend. 
You would not put a Nation to the rack?  Emp. 
Yes, the whole World; so I be safe, I care not.  Bend. 
Our Limbs and Lives  
Are yours, but mixing Friends with Foes is hard.  Emp. 
All may be foes; or how to be distinguished,  
If some be friends?  Bend. 
They may with ease be winnowed:  
Suppose some one, who has deserved your trust,  
Some one who knows Mankind, should be employed  
To mix among 'em, seem a Malcontent,  
And dive into their breasts, to try how far  
They dare oppose your love?  Emp. 
I like this well: 'Tis wholesome wickedness.  Bend. 
Whomever he suspects, he fastens there,  
And leaves no cranny of his Soul unsearched:  
Then, like a Bee baged with his honeyed venom,  
He brings it to your Hive: if such a Man  
So able, and so honest, may be found;  
If not, my project dies.—  Emp. 
By all my hopes thou hast described thyself:—  
Thou, thou alone art fit to play that Engine,  
Thou only couldst contrive.  Bend. 
Sure I could serve you:  
I think I could:— but here's the difficulty,  
I'm so entirely yours,  
That I should scurvily dissemble hate;  
The cheat would be too gross.  Emp. 
Art thou a Statesman  
And canst not be a Hypocrite? Impossible:  
Do not distrust thy virtues.  Bend. 
If I must personate this seeming Villain,  
Remember 'tis to serve you.  Emp. 
No more words:  
Love goads me to Almeyda, all affairs  
Are troublesome but that; and yet that most.  Going. 
Bid Dorax treat Sebastian like a King;  
I had forgot him;— but this Love mars all,  
And takes up my whole breast. Exit Emperor.  Bend. 
(to the Emp.) Be sure I'll tell him.—  
With all the aggravating Circumstances Alone.  
I can, to make him swell at that Command,  
The Tyrant first suspected me:  
Then, with a sudden gust, he whirled about,  
And trusted me too far: Madness of power!  
Now, by his own consent, I ruin him.  
For, should some feeble Soul, for fear or gain  
Bolt out t'accuse me, even the King is cozened,  
And thinks he's in the secret.  
How sweet is Treason when the traitor's safe!  (Sees the Mufti and Dorax entering and seeming to confer.) 
The Mufti, and with him my sullen Dorax,  
That first is mine already.  
'Twas easy work to gain a covetous mind,  
Whom rage to lose his prisoners had prepared:  
Now, caught himself,  
He would seduce another; I must help him:  
For churchmen, though they itch to govern all,  
Are silly, woeful, awkard Politicians;  
They make lame mischief, though they mean it well:  
Their interest is not finely drawn, and hid,  
But seams are coarsely bungled up, and seen.  Muf. 
He'll tell you more.  Dor. 
I've heard enough already  
To make me loath thy Morals.  Bend. 
to Dor. You seem warm:  
The good Man's zeal, perhaps has gone too far.  Dor. 
Not very far; not farther than zeal goes  
Of course; a small days journey short of Treason.  Muf. 
By all that's Holy, Treason was not named:  
I spared the Emperor's broken Vows to save  
The Slaves from Death; though it was cheating heaven,  
But I forgave him that.  Dor. 
And slighted over scornfully.  
The wrongs himself sustained in property:  
When his bought Slaves were seized by force, no loss  
Of his considered, and no cost repaid.  Mufti, 
Not wholly slighted over, not absolutely:  
Some modest hints of private wrongs I urged.  Dorax, 
Two thirds of all he said: there he began;  
To show the fullness of his heart, there ended:  
Some short excursions of a broken Vow,  
He made indeed, but flat insipid stuff:  
But when he made his loss the Theme, he flourished,  
Relieved his fainting rhetoric with new Figures,  
And thundered at oppressing Tyranny.  Mufti, 
Why not, when Sacrilegious power would seize  
My Property, 'tis an affront to heaven,  
Whose Person, though unworthy, I sustain.  Dorax. 
You've made such strong Alliances above,  
That 'twere Profaneness in us Laiety  
To offer earthly Aid.  
I tell thee, Mufti, if the World were wise,  
They would not wag one finger in your quarrels.  
Your heaven you promise, but our Earth you covet.  
The Phaethons' of mankind, who fire that World,  
Which you were sent by Preaching but to warm.  Bend. 
This goes beyond the mark.  Mufti, 
No, let him rail;  
His Prophet works within him;  
He's rare Convert.  Dorax, 
Now his Zeal yearns,  
To see me burnt; he damns me from his Church,  
Because I would restrain him to his Duty;  
Is not the care of Souls a load sufficient?  
Are nor your holy stipends paid for this?  
Were you not bred apart from worldly noise,  
To study Souls, their Cures and their Diseases?  
If this be so, we ask you but our own:  
Give us your whole Employment, all your care:  
The Province of the Soul is large enough  
To fill up every Cranny of your time,  
And leave you much to answer, if one Wretch  
Be damned by your neglect.  Bend. 
to the Mufti. He speaks but reason.  Dorax, 
Why then these foreign thoughts of State-Employments,  
Abhorrent to your Function and your Breeding?  
Poor droning Truants of unpractised Cells,  
Bred in the Fellowship of bearded Boys,  
What wonder is it if you know not Men?  
Yet there, you live demure, with downcast Eyes,  
And humble as your Discipline requires:  
But, when let lose from thence to live at large,  
Your little tincture of Devotion dies:  
Then Luxury succeeds, and set agog  
With a new Scene of yet untasted Joys,  
You fall with greedy hunger to the Feast.  
Of all your College virtues, nothing now  
But your Original Ignorance remains:  
Bloated with Pride, Ambition, Avarice,  
You swell, to counsel Kings and govern Kingdoms.  Mufti, 
He prates as if Kings had not Consciences,  
And none required Directors but the Crowd.  Dorax, 
As private men they want you, not as Kings;  
Nor would you care t' inspect their public Conscience,  
But that it draws dependencies of power,  
And Earthly Interest which you long to sway.  
Content you with monopolising heaven,  
And let this little hanging Ball alone▪  
For give you but a foot of Conscience there,  
And you, like Archimedes, toss the Globe.  
We know your thoughts of us that Laymen are  
Lag Souls, and rubbish of remaining Glay,  
Which heaven, grown weary of more perfect work,  
Set upright with a little puff of breath,  
And bid us pass for Men.  Mufti. 
I will not answer,  
Base foul mouthed Renegade; but I'll pray for thee  
To show my Charity. Exit Mufti.  Dorax, 
Do; but forget not him who needs it most:  
Allow thyself some share: He's gone too soon;  
I had to tell him of his holy juggle;  
Things that would startle Faith, and make us deem  
Not this or that, but all Religions false.  Bend. 
Our Holy orator has lost the Cause: Aside.  
But I shall yet redeem it.— (to Dorax) let him go;  
For I have secret Orders from the Emperor,  
Which none but you must hear: I must confess  
I could have wished some other hand had brought 'em.  
When did you see your prisoner Great Sebastian?  Dorax, 
You might as well have asked me when I saw  
A crested Dragon, or a Basilisk;  
Both are less Poison to my Eyes and Nature.  
He knows not I am I; nor shall he see me  
Till time has perfected a labouring thought,  
That rolls within my breast.  Bend. 
'Twas my mistake:  
I guessed indeed that time, and his misfortunes,  
And your returning duty had effaced  
The memory of past wrongs; they would in me;  
And I judged you as tame and as forgiving.  Dorax, 
Forgive him! no, I left my foolish Faith  
Because it would oblige me to forgiveness.  Bend. 
I can but grieve to find you obstinate:  
For you must see him; 'tis our emp'rours' will,  
And strict Command.  Dorax, 
I laugh at that Command.  Bend. 
You must do more than see; serve, and respect him.  Dorax, 
See, serve him, and respect, and after all  
My yet uncancelled wrongs, I must do this!  
But I forget myself.  Bend. 
Indeed you do.  Dorax, 
The Emperor is a stranger to my wrongs;  
I need but tell my story, to revoke  
This hard Commission.  Bend. 
Can you call me Friend,  
And think I could neglect to speak, at full  
Th' Affronts you had from your ungrateful Master?  Dorax, 
And yet enjoined my Service, and Attendance?  Bend. 
And yet enjoined 'em both: would that were all;  
He screwed his Face into a hardened smile,  
And said, Sebastian knew to govern Slaves.  Dorax, 
Slaves are the growth of afric, not of Europe:  
By heaven I will not lay down my Commission;  
Not at his foot, I will not stoop so low;  
But if there be a part in all his Face  
More sacred than the rest, I'll throw it there.  Bend. 
You may; but than you lose all future means  
Of Vengeance on Sebastian, when no more  
Alcalde of this Fort.  Dorax, 
That thought escaped me.  Bend. 
Keep your Command; and be revenged on both:  
Nor soothe yourself; you have no power t' affront him;  
The emp'rours' love protects him from insults.  
And he, who spoke that proud ill natured word,  
Following the bent of his impetuous temper,  
May force your reconcilement to Sebastian:  
Nay bid you kneel, and kiss th' offending foot,  
That kicked you from his Presence.  
But think not to divide their punishment;  
You cannot touch a hair of loathed Sebastian,  
While Muley-Moluch lives.  Dorax, 
What means this Riddle?  Bend. 
'Tis out: there needs no Oedipus to solve it.  
Our Emperor is a Tyrant, feared and hated;  
I scarce remember in his Reign, one day  
Pass guiltless o'er his execrable head.  
He thinks the Sun is lost that sees not blood:  
When none is shed we count it Holiday.  
We, who are most in favour, cannot call  
This hour our own?— you know the younger Brother  
Mild Muley Zeydan;—  Dorax, 
Hold and let me think.  Bend. 
The Soldiers idolise you,  
He trusts you with the Castle,  
The Key of all his Kingdom.  Dorax, 
Well; and he trusts you too.  Bend. 
Else I were mad,  
To hazard such a daring enterprise.  Dorax, 
He trusts us both; mark that, shall we betray him?  
A Master who reposes Life and Empire  
On our fidelity: I grant he is a Tyrant,  
That hated name my nature most abhors;  
More, as you say, has loaded me with scorn:  
Even with the last contempt, to serve Sebastian.  
Yet more I know he vacates my revenge;  
Which, but by this revolt I cannot compass:  
But, while he trusts me, 'twere so base a part  
To fawn and yet betray, I should be hissed  
And whooped in Hell for that Ingratitude.  Bend. 
Consider well what I have done for you.  Dorax, 
Consider thou what thou wouldst have me do.  Bend. 
You've too much honour for a Renegade.  Dorax, 
And thou too little faith to be a favourite.  
Is not the bread thou eatest, the Robe thou wear'st,  
Thy Wealth, and Honours, all the pure indulgence  
Of him thou wouldst destroy?  
And would his Creature, nay his Friend betray him?  
Why then no Bond is left on human kind:  
Distrusts, debates, immortal strifes ensue;  
Children may murder Parents, Wives their Husbands;  
All must be Rapine, Wars, and Desolation,  
When trust and gratitude no longer bind.  Bend. 
Well have you argued in your own defence:  
You, who have burst asunder all those bonds,  
And turned a Rebel to your Native Prince.  Dorax, 
True, I rebelled: but when did I betray?  
Indignities, which Man could not support,  
Provoked my vengeance to this noble Crime.  
But he had stripped me first of my Command,  
Dismissed my Service, and absolved my Faith;  
And, with disdainful Language, dared my worst.  
I but accepted War, which he denounced.  
Else had you seen, not Dorax, but Alonzo,  
With his couched Lance against your foremost Moors:  
Perhaps too turned the fortune of the day;  
Made Africa mourn, and Portugal triumph.  Bend. 
Let me embrace thee.  Dorax, 
Stand off Sycophant,  
And keep Infection distant.  Bend. 
Brave and honest.  Dorax, 
In spite of thy Temptations.  Bend. 
Call 'em Trials:  
They were no more: thy faith was held in Balance,  
And nicely weighed by jealousy of power;  
Vast was the trust of such a Royal Charge;  
And our wise Emperor, might justly fear  
Sebastian might be freed and reconciled,  
By new Obligements to thy former love.  Dorax, 
I doubt thee still; thy reasons were too strong,  
And driven too near the head, to be but Artifice.  
And after all, I know thou art a Statesman,  
Where truth is rarely found.  Bend. 
Behold the Emperor;  (Enter Emp. Seb. and Almeyda.) 
Ask him, I beg thee to be justified,  
If he employed me not to ford thy Soul,  
And try the footing whether false or firm▪  Dorax, 
Death to my Eyes, I see Sebastian▪ with him!  
Must he be served! avoid him, if we meet,  
It must be like the crush of heaven and Earth,  
T' involve us both in ruin. Exit Dorax.  Bend. 
'Twas a bare saving game I made with Dorax,  
But better so than lost; he cannot hurt me,  
That I precautioned: I must ruin him.  
But now this Love; Ay, there's the gathering storm!  
The Tyrant must not wed Almeyda; no,  
That ruins all the fabric I am raising,  
Yet seeming to approve it, gave me time,  
And gaining time gains all.  (Benducar goes and waits behind the Emperor.) (The Emperor; Sebastian and Almeyda advance to the front of the Stage.) Guards and Attendants. Emp. 
to Seb. I bade 'em serve you, and if they obey not,  
I keep my Lions keen within their Dens,  
To stop their maws with disobedient Slaves.  Seb. 
If I had conquered,  
They could not have with more observance waited:  
Their eyes, hands, feet,  
Are all so quick they seem t' have but one motion,  
To catch my flying words. Only the Alcayde  
Shuns me, and with a grim Civility,  
Bows, and declines my Walks.  Emp. 
A Renegade:  
I know not more of him: but that he's brave,  
And hates your Christian Sect. If you can frame  
A farther wish, give wing to your desires,  
And name the thing you want.  Sebast. 
My Liberty:  
For were even Paradise itself my Prison,  
Still I should long to leap the crystal walls.  Emp. 
Sure our two Souls have somewhere been acquainted:  
In former beings; or, struck out together,  
One spark to afric flew, and one to Portugal.  
Expect a quick deliverance: (turning to Alm:) here's a third,  
Of kindred Soul to both: pity our Stars  
Have made us Foes! I should not wish her death.  Almeyda, 
I ask no pity; if I thought my Soul  
Of kin to thine, soon would I rend my heartstrings,  
And tear out that Alliance: but thou Viper  
Hast cancelled kindred, made a rent in Nature,  
And through her holy bowels gnawed thy way,  
Through thy own blood to Empire.  Emper. 
This again:—  
And yet she lives; and only lives t' upbraid me.  Sebast. 
What honour is there in a woman's death!  
Wronged as she says, but helpless to revenge▪  
Strong in her Passion, impotent of Reason,  
Too weak to hurt, too fair to be destroyed.  
Mark her majestic fabric; She's a Temple  
Sacred by birth, and built by Hands Divine▪  
Her Soul's the Deity, that lodges there:  
Nor is the Pile unworthy of the God.  Emp. 
She's all that thou canst say or I can think.  
But the perverseness of her clamorous Tongue  
Strikes Pity deaf.  Seb. 
Then only hear her Eyes;  
Though they are mute they plead; nay more, command;  
For beauteous Eyes have Arbitrary Power.  
All Females have prerogative of Sex,  
The She's even of the savage herd are safe;  
And when they snarl or by't, have no return  
But Courtship from the Male.  Emp. 
Were She not She, and I not Muley-Moluch,  
She's Mistress of unevitable Charms,  
For all but me; nor am I so exempt,  
But that— I know not what I was to say—  
But I am too obnoxious to my Friends;  
And swayed by your Advice.  Sebast. 
Sir, I advised not.  
By heaven, I never counselled Love but Pity.  Emp. 
By heaven thou didst: deny it not, thou didst:  
For what was all that Prodigality  
Of praise, but to onflame me?—  Sebast. 
Sir,—  Emp. 
No more:  
Thou hast convinced me, that she's worth my Love.  Seb. 
Was ever Man so ruined by himself! Aside.  Almeyda, 
Thy Love; that odious Mouth was never framed  
To speak a word so soft:  
Name Death again, for that thou canst pronounce  
With horrid grace, becoming of a Tyrant.  
Love is for human hearts, and not for thine,  
Where the brute Beast extinguishes the Man.  Emper. 
Such if I were, yet rugged lion's love,  
And grapple, and compel their savage Dames.—  
Mark my Sebastian, how that sullen frown, She frowns  
Like flashing Lightning, opens angry Heaven;  
And while it kills delights. But yet, insult not  
Too soon, proud Beauty, I confess no love.  Seb. 
No Sir, I said so, and I witness for you,  
Not love; but noble pity moved your mind:  
Interest might urge you too to save her life;  
For those who wish her party lost, might murmur  
At shedding Royal Blood.  Emp. 
Right, thou instruct'st me;  
Interest of State requires not Death, but Marriage;  
T'unite the jarring Titles of our Line.  Seb. 
Let me be dumb for ever, all I plead, Aside.  
Like wildfire thrown against the Wind, returns  
With double force to burn me.  Emp. 
Could I but bend to make my beauteous Foe  
The Partner of my Throne, and of my Bed.—  Almeyda, 
Still thou dissemblest, but I read thy heart,  
And know the power of my own Charms; thou lov'st,  
And I am pleased for my revenge thou dost.  Emp. 
And thou hast cause.  Alm. 
I have; for I have power to make thee wretched.  
Be sure I will, and yet despair of freedom.  Emp. 
Well then, I love,—  
And 'tis below my greatness to disown it:  
Love thee implacably, yet hate thee too;  
Would hunt thee barefoot, in the midday Sun,  
Through the parched deserts, and the scorching Sands,  
T'enjoy thy Love, and once enjoyed to kill thee.  Alm. 
'Tis a false Courage, when thou threat'nest me;  
Thou canst not stir a hand to touch my Life:  
Do not I see thee tremble while thou speakest?  
Lay by the Lions hid, vain Conqueror,  
And take the Distaff; for thy Soul's my Slave.  Emp. 
Confusion! How thou viewest my very Heart!  
I could as soon,  
Stop a springtide, blown in, with my bare hand,  
As this impetuous Love:— Yes, I will wed thee;  
In spite of thee, and of myself, I will.  Alm. 
For what? To people Africa with new Monsters,  
Which that unnatural mixture must produce?  
No, were we joined, even though it were in death,  
Our Bodies burning in one Funeral Pile,  
The Prodigy of Thebes would be renewed,  
And my divided flame should break from thine.  Emp. 
Serpent, I will engender poison with thee;  
Join Hate with Hate, add Venom to the birth;  
Our offspring, like the seed of dragon's Teeth,  
Shall issue armed, and fight themselves to death.  Alm. 
I'm calm again; thou canst not marry me.  Emp. 
As gleams of sunshine soften storms to showers,  
So, if you smile, the loudness of my rage  
In gentle Whispers shall return, but this,—  
That nothing can divert my Love, but Death.  Alm. 
See how thou art deceived, I am a Christian;  
'Tis true, unpractised in my new Belief,  
Wrongs I resent, nor pardon yet with ease:  
Those Fruits come late, and are of slow increase  
In haughty Hearts, like mine: Now, tell thyself  
If this one word destroy not thy designs:  
Thy Law permits thee not to marry me.  Emp. 
'Tis but a specious Tale, to blast my hopes,  
And baffle my pretensions. Speak, Sebastian,  
And, as a King, speak true.  Sebast. 
Then, thus adjured,  
On a King's word 'tis truth, but truth ill timed;  
For her dear Life is now exposed anew;  
Unless you wholly can put on Divinity,  
And graciously forgive.  Alm. 
Now learn by this,  
The little value I have left for life,  
And trouble me no more.  Emp. 
I▪ thank thee Woman;  
Thou hast restored me to my native Rage;  
And I will seize my happiness by force.  Sebast. 
Know Muley-Moluch when thou darest attempt.—  Emp. 
Beware, I would not be provoked to use  
A Conqueror's right, and therefore charge thy silence.  
If thou wouldst merit to be thought my Friend,  
I leave thee to persuade her to compliance:  
If not, there's a new gust in Ravishment,  
Which I have never tried.  Bend. 
They must be watched; aside.  
For something I observed creates a doubt.  Exeunt Emperor and Benducar. Seb. 
I've been too tame, have basely born my Wrongs,  
And not exerted all the King, within me;  
I heard him, O sweet Heavens, he threatened Rape;  
Nay insolently urged me to persuade thee,  
Even thee, thou Idol of my Soul and Eyes;  
For whom I suffer Life, and drag this being.  Alm. 
You turn my Prison to a Paradise;  
But I have turned your Empire to a Prison:  
In all your Wars good fortune flew before you;  
Sublime you sat in Triumph on her Wheel;  
Till in my fatal Cause your Sword was drawn;  
The weight of my misfortunes dragged you down.  Seb. 
And is't not strange, that heaven should bless my Arms  
In common Causes, and desert the best?  
Now in your greatest, last extremity,  
When I would, aid you most, and most desire it,  
I bring but Sighs, the succours of a Slave.  Alm. 
Leave then the luggage of your fate behind,  
To make your flight more easy, leave Almeyda.  
Nor think me left a base ignoble Prey,  
Exposed to this inhuman Tyrant's lust;  
My Virtue is a guard beyond my strength,  
And Death, my last defence, within my call.  Seb. 
Death may be called in vain, and cannot come;  
Tyrants can tie him up from your relief:  
Nor has a Christian privilege to die.  
Alas thou art too young in thy new Faith;  
Brutus and Cato might discharge their Souls,  
And give 'em Furlo's for another World:  
But we, like Centry's, are obliged to stand  
In starless Nights, and wait the pointed hour.  Alm. 
If shunning ill be good, than Death is good  
To those who cannot shun it but by Death:  
Divines but peep on undiscovered Worlds,  
And draw the distant Landshape as they please:  
But who has e'er returned from those bright Regions,  
To tell their Manners, and relate their Laws?  
I'll venture landing on that happy shore  
With an unsullied Body, and white Mind;  
If I have erred, some kind Inhabitant  
Will pity a strayed Soul, and take me home.  Seb. 
Beware of Death, thou canst not die unperjured,  
And leave an unaccomplished Love behind:  
Thy Vows are mine; nor will I quit my claim:  
The tie of Minds are but imperfect Bonds,  
Unless the Bodies join to seal the Contract.  Alm. 
What Joys can you possess or can I give?  
Where groans of Death succeed the sighs of Love.  
Our Hymen has not on his Saffron Robe;  
But muffled up in Mourning, downward holds  
His dropping Torch, extinguished with his Tears.  Seb. 
The God of Love stands ready to revive it  
With his etherial breath.  Alm. 
'Tis late to join, when we must part so soon.  Seb. 
Nay rather let us haste it, ere we part:  
Our Souls, for want of that acquaintance here,  
May wander in the starry Walks above,  
And, forced on worse Companions, miss ourselves.  Alm. 
The Tyrant will not long be absent hence;  
And soon I shall be ravished from your arms.  Seb. 
Wilt thou thyself become the greater Tyrant,  
And give not Love, while thou hast Love to give?  
In dangerous days, when Riches are a Crime,  
The wise betimes make over their Estates:  
Make oer thy Honour, by a deed of trust,  
And give me seizure of the mighty wealth.  Alm. 
What shall I do! O teach me to refuse!  
I would; and yet I tremble at the grant.  
For dire presages fright my Soul by day,  
And boding Visions haunt my Nightly Dreams:  
Sometimes, methinks, I hear the groans of Ghosts;  
Thin, hollow sounds, and lamentable screams;  
Then, like a dying echo, from afar,  
My mother's Voice, that cries, Wed not Almeyda!  
Forewarned Almeyda, Marriage is thy Crime.  Seb. 
Some envious daemon, to delude our joys;  
Love is not Sin, but where 'tis sinful Love.  Alm. 
Mine is a flame so holy, and so clear,  
That the white taper leaves no soot behind;  
No smoke of Lust; but chaste as Sister's love,  
When coldly they return a brother's kiss,  
Without the zeal that meets at lovers mouths.  Seb. 
Laugh then at fond presages; I had some;  
Famed Nostradamus', when he took my Horoscope,  
Foretold my Father I should wed with Incest:  
Ere this unhappy War my Mother died;  
And Sisters I had none; vain Augury!  
A long Religious Life, a Holy Age,  
My Stars assigned me too; impossible.  
For how can Incest suit with Holiness,  
Or Priestly Orders with a Princely State?  Alm. 
Old venerable Alvarez!— (sighing.)  Seb. 
But why that sigh in naming that good Man?  Alm. 
Your father's Counsellor and Confident—  Seb. 
He was; and, if he lives, my second Father:  Alm. 
Marked our farewell, when going to the sight,  
You gave Almeyda for the word of battle;  
'Twas in that fatal Moment, he discovered  
The Love that long we laboured to conceal.  
I know it; though my eyes stood full of tears,  
Yet, through the mist, I saw him steadfast gaze:  
Then knocked his Aged breast, and inward groaned;  
Like some sad Prophet, that foresaw the doom  
Of those whom best he loved, and could not save.  Seb. 
It startles me! and brings to my remembrance,  
That, when the shock of battle was begun,  
He would have much complained (but had not time)  
Of our hid passion; then, with lifted hands,  
He begged me by my father's Sacred Soul,  
Not to espouse you, if he died in fight:  
For if he lived, and we were Conquerors,  
He had such things to urge against our Marriage,  
As, now declared, would blunt my sword in battle;  
And dastardize my Courage.  Alm. 
My blood cruddles;  
And cakes about my heart.  Seb. 
I'll breathe a sigh, so warm into thy bosom,  
Shall make it flow again. My Love, he knows not  
Thou art a Christian; that produced his fear:  
Lest thou shouldst soothe my Soul with charms so strong,  
That heaven might prove too weak.  Alm. 
There must be more:  
This could not blunt your Sword.  Seb. 
Yes, if I drew it, with a cursed intent,  
To take a Misbeliever to my Bed;  
It must be so.  Alm. 
Yet—  Seb. 
No, thou shalt not plead  
With that fair mouth, against the Cause of Love.  
Within this Castle is a Captive Priest,  
My Holy Confessor, whose free access  
Not even the barbarous Victors have refused;  
This happy hour his hands shall make us one.  Alm. 
I go; with Love and Fortune, two blind Guides,  
To lead my way: half loath and half consenting.  
If, as my Soul forebodes, some dire event  
Pursue this Union, or some Crime unknown,  
Forgive me heaven; and all ye blessed above,  
Excuse the frailty of unbounded Love.  Exeunt Ambo.  

Scene 2. Supposed a Garden; with Lodging Rooms behind it; or on the sides.  Enter Mufti; Antonio as a Slave; and Johayma the Mufti 's Wife. Mufti. 
ANd how do you like him, look upon him well; he's a personable Fellow of a Christian Dog. Now I think you are fitted, for a gardener: ha' what sayest thou Johayma?  Johayma. 
He may make a shift to sow lettuce, raise Melons, and water a Garden plat.  
But otherwise a very filthy Fellow; how odiously he smells of his Country garlic! fugh, how he stinks of Spain.  Mufti. 
Why honey-bird I bought him a purpose for thee; didst not thou say thou long'dst for a Christian Slave?  Joh. 
Ah, but the sight of that loathsome creature has almost cured me; And how can I tell that he's a Christian? and he were well searched he may prove a Jew for aught I know.  
And besides I have always longed for an Eunuch; for they say that's a Civil Creature, and almost as harmless as yourself Husband: speak fellow, are not you such a kind of peaceable thing?  Ant. 
I was never taken for one in my own Country; and not very peaceable neither, when I am well provoked.  Mufti. 
To your Occupation Dog; bind up the Jessamines in yond arbour, and handle your pruning knife with dexterity; tightly I say, go tightly to your business; you have cost me much; and must earn it in your work; here's plentiful provision for you, rascal, sallating in the Garden, and water in the tanck, and on holiday the licking of a platter of Rice, when you deserve it.  Joh. 
What have you been bred up to Sirrah, and what can you perform to recommend you to my service?  Antonio making legs. 
Why Madam, I can perform as much as any Man, in a fair Lady's Service.  
I can play upon the Flute, and Sing; I can carry your Umbrella, and fan your Ladyship, and cool you when you are too hot: in fine, no Service either by day or by night shall come amiss to me; and besides am of so quick an apprehension, that you need but wink upon me at any time, to make me understand my duty.  She winks at him. Anton. 
Very fine, she has tipped the wink already.— Aside.  Joh. 
The Whelp may come to something in time, when I have entered him into his business.  Muf. 
A very malapert Cur, I can tell him that; I do not like his fawning, you must be taught your distance Sirrah.  (striketh him.) Joh. 
Hold, hold.—  
He has deserved it I confess; but for once let his ignorance plead his pardon; we must not discourage a beginner. Your Reverence has taught us Charity even to Birds and Beasts: here you filthy brute you:— take this little Alms, to buy you plasters. (gives him a piece of money)  Ant. 
Money and a Love pinch in the inside of my palm into the bargain. Aside.  Enter a Servant. 
Sir, my Lord Benducar is coming to wait on you, and is already at the Palace Gate.  Muf. 
Come in Johayma, regulate the rest of my Wives and Concubines, and leave the Fellow to his work.  Joh. 
Look how stupidly he stairs about him, like a Calf new come into the World: I shall teach you Sirrah to know your business, a little better.— this way you awkard rascal, here lies the Arbour, must I be showing you eternally?  (turning him about.) Muf. 
Come away Minion; you shall show him nothing.  Joh. 
I'll but bring him into the arbour, where a rosetree and a Myrtle are just falling for want of a prop; if they were bound together they would help to keep up one another:— He's a raw Gardiner, and 'tis but Charity to teach him.  Muf. 
No more deeds of Charity to day; come in, or I shall think you a little better disposed than I could wish you.  Joh. 
Well, go before, I will follow my Pastor.  Muf. 
So you may cast a sheep's eye behind you: In before me. And you, sauciness, mind your pruning knife; or I may chance to use it for you.  Exeunt Mufti and Johayma. Ant. 
alone. Thank you for that; but I am in no such haste to be made a Musulman. For his Wedlock, with all her haughtiness, I find her coming. How far a Christian should resist, I partly know; but how far a lewd young Christian can resist is another question. She's tolerable, and I am a poor Stranger, far from better Friends, and in a bodily necessity: Now have I a strange temptation to try what other Females are belonging to this Family: I am not far from the women's apartment I am sure; and if these Birds are within distance, here's that will chuckle 'em together. (pulls out his Flute) If there be variety of Moors flesh in this Holy Market 'twere madness to lay out all my money upon the first bargain.  He plays. A Grate opens and Morayma the Mufti's Daughter appears at it. Anton. 
Ay there's an Apparition! This is a Morsel worthy of a Mufti; this is the relishing bit in secret; this is the Mystery of his Alcoran, that must be reserved from the knowledge of the profane Vulgar. This is his holiday Devotion; see, she beckons too.—  (She beckons to him.) Morayma. 
Come a little nearer and speak softly.  Ant. 
I come, I come I warrant thee; the least twinkle had brought me to thee; such another kind syllable or two, would turn me to a Meteor and draw me up to thee.  Mor. 
I dare not speak, for fear of being overheard; but if you think my Person worth your hazard, and can deserve my love— the rest this Note shall tell you— (throws down a handkerchief.) No more, my heart goes with you.  Exit from the Grate. Antonio. 
O thou pretty little heart; art thou flown hither, I'll keep it warm I warrant it, and brood upon it in the newnest: but now for my Treasure trove, that's wrapped up in the handkerchief: No peeping here, though I long to be spelling her Arabic scrawls and pot-hooks. But I must carry off my prize, as Robbers do; and not think of sharing the booty, before I am free from danger, and out of eye-shot from the other Windows. If her wit be as poignant as her Eyes, I am a double Slave. Our Northern Beauties are mere dough to these: Insipid white Earth, mere Tobaccopipe-clay; With no more Soul and Motion in 'em, than a Fly in Winter.  
Here the warm Planet ripens, and sublimes  
The well baked Beauties of the Southern Climes;  
Our Cupid's but a bungler in his Trade;  
His keenest Arrows are in Africa made.  Exit Antonio.   

ACT. III.  

Scene 1. A Terrace-walk; or some other public place in the Castle of Alcazar.  Emperor Muley-Moluch; Benducar. Emper. 
Married! I'll not believe it; 'tis imposture;  
Improbable they should presume t'attempt,  
Impossible they should effect their wish.  Bend. 
Have patience till I clear it.  Emp. 
I have none:  
Go bid our moving Plains of Sand lie still,  
And stir not, when the stormy South blows high▪  
From top to bottom thou hast tossed my Soul,  
And now 'tis in the madness of the Whirl,  
Requirest a sudden stop? unsay thy lie,  
That may in time do somewhat.  Bend. 
I have done:  
For, since it pleases you it should be forged,  
'Tis fit it should: far be it from your Slave,  
To raise disturbance in your Sacred breast.  Emp. 
Sebastian is my Slave as well as thou;  
Nor durst offend my love by that presumption.  Bend. 
Most sure he ought not.  Emp. 
Then all means were wanting;  
No Priest, no Ceremonies of their Sect;  
Or, grant we these defects could be supplied,  
How could our Prophet do an Act so base,  
So to resume his gifts, and curse my Conquests  
By making me unhappy! No, the Slave  
That told thee so absurd a story, lied.  Bend. 
Yet, till this moment I have found him faithful:  
He said he saw it too.  Emp. 
Dispatch; what saw he?  Bend. 
Truth is, considering with what earnestness,  
Sebastian pleaded for Almeyda's life,  
Enhanced her beauty, dwelled upon her praise,—  Emp. 
O stupid, and unthinking as I was!  
I might have marked it too: 'twas gross and palpable!  Bend. 
Methought I traced a Lover ill disguised;  
And sent my spy, a sharp observing Slave,  
T'inform me better, if I guessed aright.  
He told me, that he saw Sebastian's Page  
Run cross the Marble Square; who soon returned,  
And after him there laged a puffing friar;  
Close wrapped he bore some secret Instrument▪  
Of Christian Superstition in his hand:  
My servant followed fast, and through a chink,  
Perceived the Royal Captives hand in hand:  
And heard the hooded Father mumbling charm,  
That make those Misbelievers Man and Wife.  
Which done, the Spouses kissed with such a fervour,  
And gave such furious earnest of their flames,  
That their eyes sparkled, and their mantling blood  
Flew flushing o'er their faces.  Emp. 
Hell confound 'em!  Bend. 
The Reverend Father, with a Holy leer,  
Saw he might well be spared, and soon withdrew:  
This forced my Servant to a quick retreat,  
For fear to be discovered; guess the rest.  Emp. 
I do. My fancy is too exquisite,  
And tortures me with their imagined bliss  
Some Earthquake should have risen, and rend the ground,  
Have swallowed him; and left the longing Bride,  
In Agony of unaccomplished Love. (Walks disorderly)  Enter the Mufti. Bend. 
In an unlucky hour Aside.  
That Fool intrudes, raw in this great affair,  
And uninstructed how to stem the tide.  Coming up to the Mufti aside. 
The Emperor must not marry, nor enjoy;  
Keep to that point; stand firm, for all's at stake.  Emperor seeing him. 
You, Druggerman of Heaven, must I attend  
Your droning Prayers? Why came you not before?  
Dost thou not know the Captive King has dared  
To wed Almeyda? Cancel me that Marriage,  
And make her mine; about the business, quick,  
Expound thy Mahomet; make him speak my sense,  
Or he's no Prophet here, and thou no Mufti,  
Unless thou knowst the trick of thy vocation,  
To wrest and rend the Law to please thy Prince.  Mufti, 
Why, verily the Law is monstrous plain:  
There's not one doubtful Text in all the Koran,  
Which can be wrenched in favour to your Project.  Emp. 
Forge one, and foist it into some by-place,  
Of some old rotten Roll; do't, I command thee:  
Must I teach thee thy Trade?  Mufti, 
It cannot be.  
For Matrimony being the dearest point  
Of Law, the People have it all by heart:  
A Cheat on Procreation will not pass.  
Besides th' offence is so exorbitant, In a higher tone.  
To mingle with a misbelieving Race,  
That speedy Vengeance would pursue your Crime,  
And holy Mahomet launch himself from heaven,  
Before th' unready Thunderbolt were formed.  Emperor taking him by the Throat with one hand, snatches out his Sword with the other, and points it to his breast. Emp. 
Slave, have I raised thee to this pomp and power,  
To preach against my Will? Know I am Law;  
And thou, not Mahomet's Messenger, but mine:  
Make it, I charge thee, make my pleasure lawful:  
Or first I strip the of thy ghostly greatness,  
Then send thee post, to tell thy Tale above;  
And bring thy vain Memorials to thy Prophet  
Of Justice done below for Disobedience.  Mufti, 
For Heaven's sake hold, the respite of a moment,—  
To think for you.  Emp. 
And for thyself.—  Mufti, 
For both.  Bend. 
Disgrace, and Death, and Avarice have lost him! Aside.  Mufti, 
'Tis true, our Law forbids to wed a Christian;  
But it forbids you not to ravish her.  
You have a Conqueror's right upon your Slave;  
And then, the more despite you do a Christian,  
You serve the Prophet more who loathes that Sect.  Emp. 
Oh now it mends; and you talk reason, Mufti.  
But stay! I promised freedom to Sebastian:  
Now should I grant it, his revengeful Soul  
Would ne'er forgive his violated Bed.  Mufti, 
Kill him, for than you give him liberty:  
His Soul is from his earthly Prison freed.  Emp. 
How happy is the Prince who has a Churchman  
So learned and pliant to expound his Laws.  Bend. 
Two things I humbly offer to your prudence.  Emp. 
Be brief; but let not either thwart my love.  Bend. 
First, since our holy Man has made Rape lawful,  
Fright her with that: proceed not yet to force:  
Why should you pluck the green distasteful Fruit  
From the unwilling Bough,  
When it may ripen of itself and fall?  Emp. 
Grant her a day; tho that's too much to give  
Out of a Life which I devote to Love.  Bend. 
Then next, to bar  
All future hopes of her desired Sebastian,  
Let Dorax be enjoined to bring his head.  Emperor to the Mufti. 
Go Mufti, call him to receive his Orders. Exit Mufti.  
I taste thy Counsel, her desires new roused,  
And yet unslaked, will kindle in her fancy,  
And make her eager to renew the Feast.  Bend. 
aside. Dorax, I know before, will disobey:  
There's a Foe's Head well cropped.—  
But this hot love precipitates my Plot;  
And brings it to projection ere its time.  Enter Sebastian and Almeyda hand in hand; upon sight of the Emperor, they separate and seem disturbed. Almeyda, 
He breaks, at unawares, upon our Walks,  
And like a midnight Wolf invades the Fold:  
Make speedy preparation of your Soul,  
And bid it arm apace: He comes for answer,  
And brutal mischief sits upon his brow.  Sebast. 
Not the last sounding, could surprise me more,  
That summons drowsy Mortals to their doom,  
When called in haste, they fumble for their Limbs,  
And tremble unprovided for their charge:  
My sense has been so deeply plunged in Joys,  
The Soul outslept her hour; and, scarce awake,  
Would think too late, and cannot! But brave Minds  
At worst can dare their Fate.—  Emperor coming up to them. Emp. 
Have you performed  
Your Embassy, and treated with success?  Sebast. 
I had not time.  Emp. 
No, not for my Affairs,  
But for your own too much.  Sebast. 
You talk in Clouds, explain your meaning, Sir.  Emp. 
Explain yours first: What meant you hand in hand,  
And when you saw me, with a guilty start,  
You loosed your hold, affrighted at my presence?  Seb. 
Affrighted?  Emp. 
Yes, astonished, and confounded.  Seb. 
What makest thou of thyself, and what of me?  
Art thou some Ghost, some daemon, or some God?  
That I should stand astonished at thy sight?  
If thou couldst deem so meanly of my Courage,  
Why didst thou not engage me man for man,  
And try the virtue of that Gorgon Face,  
To stare me into statue?  Emp. 
Oh, thou art now recovered, but by heaven,  
Thou wert amazed at first, as if surprised  
At unexpected baseness brought to light.  
For know, ungrateful man, that Kings, like Gods,  
Are every where; walk in th' abyss of minds,  
And view the dark recesses of the Soul.  Seb. 
Base and ungrateful never was I thought;  
Nor till this turn of fate, durst thou have called me;  
But, since thou boast'st th' omniscience of a God,  
Say, in what cranny of Sebastian's Soul,  
Unknown to me, so loathed a Crime is lodged?  Emp. 
Thou hast not broke my trust reposed in thee?  Seb. 
Imposed, but not received: Take back that falsehood.  Emp. 
Thou art not married to Almeyda?  Seb. 
Yes.  Emp. 
And ownest the usurpation of my Love?  Seb. 
I own it in the face of heaven and thee  
No Usurpation; but a lawful claim,  
Of which I stand possessed.  Emp. 
She has chosen well,  
Betwixt a Captive and a Conqueror.  Almeyda, 
Betwixt a Monster and the best of Men.  
He was the envy of his neighbouring Kings;  
For him their sighing Queens despised their Lords,  
And Virgin Daughters blushed when he was named.  
To share his noble Chains is more to me,  
Than all the savage greatness of thy Throne.  Seb. 
Were I to choose again, and knew my fate,  
For such a night I would be what I am.  
The Joys I have possessed are ever mine;  
Out of thy reach behind Eternity,  
Hid in the sacred treasure of the past;  
But blessed remembrance bring's 'em hourly back.  Emp. 
Hourly indeed, who hast but hours to live:  
O mighty purchase of a boasted bliss!  
To dream of what thou hadst one fugitive night,  
And never shalt have more.  Seb. 
Barbarian, thou canst part us but a moment;—  
We shall be one again in thy despite:  
Life is but air,  
That yields a passage to the whistling Sword,  
And closes when 'tis gone.  Alm. 
How can we better die than close embraced,  
Sucking each others Souls while we expire?  
Which so transfused, and mounting both at once,  
The Saints deceived, shall by a sweet mistake,  
Hand up thy Soul for mine, and mine for thine.  Emp. 
No, I'll untwist you:  
I have occasion for your stay on earth:  
Let him mount first, and beat upon the Wing,  
And wait an Age for what I here detain.  
Or sicken at immortal Joys above,  
And languish for the heaven he left below.  Alm. 
Thou wilt not dare to break what heaven has joined?  Emp. 
Not break the Chain, but change a rotten link,  
And rivet one to last.  
Thinkest thou I come to argue right and wrong?  
Why lingers Dorax thus? Where are my Guards,  Benducar goes out for the Guards, and returns. 
To drag that Slave to death? Pointing to Sebast.  
Now storm and rage,  
Call vainly on thy Prophet, then defy him  
For wanting power to save thee.  Seb. 
That were to gratify thy Pride: I'll show thee  
How a Man should, and how a King dare die:  
So even, that my Soul shall walk with ease  
Out of its flesh, and shut out Life as calmly  
As it does words; without a Sigh, to note  
One struggle in the smooth dissolving frame.  Almeyda to the Emperor. 
Expect revenge from heaven, inhuman Wretch;  
Nor hope t' ascend Sebastian's holy Bed.  
Flames, Daggers, poisons, guard the sacred steps:  
Those are the promised Pleasures of my love.  Emp. 
And these might fright another, but not me.  
Or me, if I designed to give you pleasure;  
I seek my own, and while that lasts, you live.  Enter two of the Guards. 
Go, bear the Captive to a speedy death,  
And set my Soul at ease.  Alm. 
I charge you hold, ye Ministers of death,  
Speak my Sebastian;  
Plead for thy life: Oh ask it of the Tyrant;  
'Tis no dishonour, trust me, Love, 'tis none:  
I would die for thee, but I cannot plead;  
My haughty heart disdains it, even for thee.  
Still silent! Will the King of Portugal  
Go to his death, like a dumb Sacrifice?  
Beg him to save my life in saving thine.  Seb. 
Farewell, my life's not worth another word.  Emp. 
to the Guards. Perform your Orders.  Alm. 
Stay, take my farewell too:  
Farewell the greatness of Almeyda's Soul!  
Look, Tyrant, what excess of love can do,  
It pulls me down thus low, as to thy feet; Knelt to him.  
Nay to embrace thy Knees with loathing hands,  
Which blister when they touch thee: Yet even thus,  
Thus far I can to save Sebastian's life.  Emp. 
A secret pleasure trickles through my Veins:  
It works about the inlets of my Soul,  
To feel thy touch; and pity tempts the pass;  
But the tough metal of my heart resists;  
'Tis warmed with the soft fire, not melted down.  Alm. 
A flood of scalding Tears will make it run,  
Spare him, Oh spare; can you pretend to love,  
And have no pity? Love and that are Twins.  
Here will I grow;  
Thus compass you with these supplanting Cords,  
And pull so long till the proud fabric falls.  Emp. 
Still kneel, and still embrace; 'tis double pleasure  
So to be hugged, and see Sebastian die.  Alm. 
Look. Tyrant, when thou namest Sebastian's death,  
Thy very Executioners turn pale,  
Rough as they are, and hardened in the trade  
Of Death, they start at an anointed Head,  
And tremble to approach:— He hears me not;  
Nor minds th' impression of a God on Kings;  
Because no stamp of heaven was on his Soul:  
But the resisting Mass drove back the Seal.  
Say, though thy heart be rock of Adamant,  
Yet Rocks are not impregnable to Bribes:  
Instruct me how to bribe thee: Name thy price;  
Lo, I resign my Title to the Crown;  
Send me to exile with the Man I love,  
And banishment is Empire.  Emp. 
Here's my claim; Clapping his hand to his Sword.  
And this extinguished thine; thou giv'st me nothing.  Alm. 
My Father's, Mothers, brother's death I pardon:  
That's somewhat sure; a mighty Sum of murder,  
Of innocent and kindred blood struck off.  
My Prayers and Penance shall discount for these,  
And beg of heaven to charge the Bill on me:  
Behold what price I offer, and how dear  
To buy Sebastian's life.  Emp. 
Let after reckon trouble fearful fools;  
I'll stand the trial of those trivial Crimes:  
But, since thou beg'st me to prescribe my terms,  
The only I can offer are thy love;  
And this one day of respite to resolve.  
Grant or deny, for thy next word is Fate;  
And Fate is deaf to prayer.  Alm. 
May heaven be so Rising up.  
At thy last breath to thine: I curse thee not,  
For who can better curse the Plague or Devil,  
Than to be what they are? That Curse be thine.  
Now, do not speak Sebastian, for you need not,  
But die, for I resign your Life: Look heaven,  
Almeyda dooms her dear Sebastian's death!  
But is there heaven, for I begin to doubt;  
The skies are hushed; no grumbling Thunders roll:  
Now take your swing, ye impious; Sin unpunished;  
Eternal providence seems overwatched,  
And with a slumbering Nod assents to murder.  Enter Dorax attended by three Soldiers. Emp. 
Thou movest a Tortoise pace to my relief.  
Take hence that, once a King; that sullen pride  
That swells to dumbness; lay him in the Dungeon,  
And sink him deep with Irons; that when he would,  
He shall not groan to hearing, when I send  
The next Commands are death.  Alm. 
Then Prayers are vain as Curses.  Emp. 
Much at one  
In a slave's mouth, against a Monarch's power.  
This day thou hast to think;  
At night, if thou wilt curse, thou shalt curse kindly;  
Then I'll provoke thy lips; lay siege so close,  
That all thy sallying breath shall turn to Blessings.  
Make haste, seize, force her, bear her hence.  Alm. 
Farewell, my last Sebastian!  
I do not beg, I challenge Justice now;  
O powers, if Kings be your peculiar care,  
Why plays this Wretch with your Prerogative?  
Now flash him dead, now crumble him to ashes;  
Or henceforth live confined in your own Palace;  
And look not idly out upon a World  
That is no longer yours.  She is carried off struggling, Emperor and Benducar follow. Sebastian struggles in his Guards Arms, and shakes off one of them, but two others come in, and hold him; he speaks not all the while. Dor. 
I find I'm but a half-strained Villain yet; Aside.  
But mungril-mischievous; for my Blood boiled,  
To view this brutal act; and my stern Soul  
Tugged at my arm to draw in her defence.  
Down thou rebelling Christian in my heart;  
Redeem thy fame on this Sebastian first;  
Then think on others wrongs, when thine are righted.  Walks a turn. 
But how to right 'em? on a Slave disarmed,  
Defenceless, and submitted to my rage?  
A base revenge is vengeance on myself? walks again.  
I have it; and I thank thee, honest head,  
Thus present to me at my great necessity:—  Comes up to Sebastian. 
You know me not?  Sebast. 
I hear Men call thee Dorax.  Dor. 
'Tis well, you know enough for once: you speak too;  
You were struck mute before.  Sebast. 
Silence became me then.  Dor. 
Yet we may talk hereafter.  Seb. 
Hereafter is not mine:—  
Dispatch thy work, good Executioner.  Dor. 
None of my blood were hangmen; add that falsehood  
To a long Bill that yet remains unreckoned.  Seb. 
A King and thou can never have a reckoning.  Dor. 
A greater sum perhaps than you can pay.  
Mean time I shall make bold t'increase your debt,  (gives him his Sword) 
Take this, and use it at your greatest need.  Seb. 
This hand and this, have been acquainted well;  (Looks on it.) 
It should have come before into my grasp,  
To kill the Ravisher.  Dor. 
Thou heardst the tyrant's orders; Guard thy life  
When 'tis attacked, and guard it like a Man.  Seb. 
I'm still without thy meaning but I thank thee.  Dor. 
Thank me when I ask thanks; thank me with that.  Seb. 
Such surly kindness did I never see!  (Dorax to the Captain of his Guards.) Muza, 
draw out a file, pick man by man,  
Such who dare die, and dear will sell their death.  
Guard him to th' utmost; now conduct him hence,  
And treat him as my Person.  Seb. 
Something like  
That voice methinks I should have somewhere heard:  
But floods of woes have hurried it far off;  
Beyond my kenn of Soul.  Exit Sebastian with the Soldiers. Dor. 
But I shall bring him back ungrateful Man, Solus.  
I shall, and set him full before thy sight,  
When I shall front thee, like some staring Ghost,  
With all my wrongs about me.— What so soon  
Returned? This haste is boding.  Enter to him Emperor, Benducar, Mufti. Emp. 
She's still inexorable, still Imperious;  
And loud, as if like Bacchus born in thunder.  
Be quick, ye false Physicians of my mind,  
Bring speedy Death or Cure.  Bend. 
What can be counselled while Sebastian lives?  
The Vine will cling, while the tall poplar stands:  
But that cut down creeps to the next support,  
And twines as closely there.  Emp. 
That's done with ease, I speak him dead: proceed.  Muf. 
Proclaim your Marriage with Almeyda next,  
That Civil Wars may cease; this gains the Crowd;  
Then you may safely force her to your will:  
For People side with violence and injustice,  
When done for public good.  Emp. 
Preach thou that doctrine.  Bend. 
Th' unreasonable fool has broached a truth Aside.  
That blasts my hopes; but since 'tis gone so far,  
He shall divulge Almeyda is a Christian:  
If that produce no tumult I despair.  Emp. 
Why speaks not Dorax?  Dor. 
Because my Soul abhors to mix with him.  
Sir, let me bluntly say, you went too far  
To trust the Preaching power on State Affairs,  
To him or any Heavenly Demagogue.  
'Tis a limb lopped from your Prerogative,  
And so much of heavens Image blotted from you.  Muf. 
Sure thou hast never heard of Holy Men  
(So Christians call 'em) famed in State Affairs;  
Such as in Spain Ximenes, Albornoz,  
In England Woolsey; match me these with Laymen.  Dorax. 
How you triumph in one or two of these,  
Born to be Statesmen, happening to be churchmen:  
Thou callst 'em holy; so their function was;  
But tell me, Mufti, which of 'em were Saints?  
Next, Sir, to you; the sum of all is this;  
Since he claims power from heaven, and not from Kings,  
When 'tis his interest, he can interest heaven  
To preach you down; and Ages oft depend  
On hours, uninterrupted, in the Chair.  Emp. 
I'll trust his Preaching while I rule his pay.  
And I dare trust my Africans, to hear  
Whatever he dare Preach.  Dor. 
You know 'em not.  
The genius of your Moors is mutiny;  
They scarcely want a Guide to move their madness:  
Prompt to rebel on every weak pretence,  
Blustering when courted, crouching when oppressed.  
Wise to themselves, and fools to all the World.  
Restless in change, and perjured to a Proverb.  
They love Religion sweetened to the sense;  
A good, luxurious, palatable faith.  
Thus Vice and Godliness, preposterous pair,  
Ride cheek by joul; but Churchmen hold the Reins.  
And, when ere Kings would lower Clergy greatness,  
They learn too late what power the Preachers have,  
And whose the Subjects are; the Mufti knows it;  
Nor dares deny what passed betwixt us two.  Emp. 
No more; what ere he said was by Command.  Dor. 
Why then no more, since you will hear no more;  
Some Kings are resolute to their own ruin.  Emp. 
Without your meddling where you are not asked,  
Obey your Orders, and dispatch Sebastian.  Dor. 
Trust my revenge; be sure I wish him dead.  Emp. 
What meanest thou! what's thy wishing to my will;  
Dispatch him, rid me of the Man I loath,  Dor. 
I hear you Sir, I'll take my time and do't—  Emp. 
Thy time? what's all thy time, what's thy whole life  
To my one hour of ease? no more replies,  
But see thou dost it; Or—  Dor. 
Choke in that threat: I can say Or, as loud.  Emp. 
'Tis well, I see my words have no effect,  
But I may send a Message to dispose you.  Is going off. Dor. 
Expect an answer worthy of that Message.  Muf. 
The Prophet owed him this: Aside.  
And thanked be heaven, he has it.  Bend. 
By Holy Alha, I conjure you stay,  
And judge not rashly of so brave a Man.  (Draws the Emperor aside and whispers him.) 
I'll give you reasons why he cannot execute  
Your Orders now, and why he will hereafter.  Muf. 
Benducar is a fool to bring him off, Aside.  
I'll work my own revenge, and speedily.  Bend. 
The Fort is his, the Soldiers hearts are his;  
A thousand Christian Slaves are in the Castle,  
Which he can free to reinforce his power;  
Your Troops far off, beleaguering Larache,  
Yet in the Christians hands.  Emp. 
I grant all this;  
But grant me he must die.  Bend. 
He shall; by poison:  
'Tis here, the deadly drug prepared in powder,  
Hot as Hell fire:— then, to prevent his Soldiers  
From rising to revenge their generals death,  
While he is struggling with his Mortal pangs,  
The Rabble on the sudden may be raised  
to seize the Castle.  Emp. 
Do't; 'tis left to thee.  Bend. 
Yet more; but clear your brow; for he observes.  (They whisper again.) Dor. 
What will the favourite prop my falling fortunes,  
O prodigy of Court! Aside.  Emperor and Benducar return to Dorax. Emp. 
Your Friend has fully cleared your Innocence;  
I was too hasty to condemn unheard,  
And you perhaps too prompt in your replies.  
As far as fits the Majesty of Kings,  
I ask excuse.  Dor. 
I'm sure I meant it well.  Emp. 
I know you did:— this to our love renewed.—  Emperor drinks. Benducar fill to Dorax. Benducar turns and mixes a powder in it. Dor. 
Let it go round for all of us have need  
To quench our heats; 'tis the King's health Benducar.—  He drinks. 
And I would pledge it though I knew 'twere poison.  Bend. 
Another Bowl, for what the King has touched,  Drinks out of another Bowl. 
And you have pledged, is sacred to your loves.—  Muf. 
Since Charity becomes my calling, thus  
Let me provoke your friendship: and heaven bless it  
As I intent it well.—  Drinks; and turning aside pours some drops out of a little Vial into the Bowl; then presents it to Dorax. Dor. 
Heaven make thee honest,  
On that condition we shall soon be friends.— Drinks.  Muf. 
Yes, at our meeting in another World; Aside.  
For thou hast drunk thy passport out of this.  
Not the Nonacrian fount, nor Lethe's Lake,  
Could sooner numb thy nimble faculties  
Than this, to sleep eternal.  Emp. 
Now farewell Dorax; this was our first quarrel,  
And I dare prophecy will prove our last.  Exit Emperor with Benducar and the Mufti. Dor. 
It may be so: I'm strangely discomposed;  
Quick shootings through my limbs, and pricking pains,  
Qualms at my heart, Convulsions in my nerves,  
Shiv'rings of cold, and burn of my entrails  
Within my little World make medley War,  
Lose and regain, beat and are beaten back;  
As momentary Victors quit their ground.  
Can it be poison! poison's of one tenor,  
Or hot or cold; this neither, and yet both.  
Some deadly Draught, some enemy of life  
Boils in my bowels, and works out my Soul.  
Ingratitude's the growth of every Clime;  
Africa, the Scene removed, is Portugal.  
Of all Court-service learn the common lot;  
To day 'tis done, to morrow 'tis forgot.  
Oh were that all! my honest corpse must lie  
Exposed to scorn, and public Infamy:  
My shameful Death will be divulged alone;  
The worth and honour of my Soul unknown.  Exit.  

Scene 2. Is a Night Scene of the Mufti 's Garden where an Arbour is discovered.  Enter Antonio. Ant. 
SHE names herself Morayma; the Mufti's only Daughter, and a Virgin! This is the time and place that she appointed in her letter, yet she comes not. Why thou sweet delicious Creature, why to torture me with thy delay! Darest thou be false to thy Assignation? What, in the cool and silence of the night, and to a new Lover? Pox on the Hypocrite thy Father, for instructing thee so little in the sweetest point of his Religion. Hark, I hear the rustling of her Silk Mantle. Now she comes; now she comes; no, hang't, that was but the whistling of the wind through the Orange Trees. Now again, I hear the pit a pat of a pretty foot through the dark Alley: No, 'tis the Son of a Mare that's broken lose and munching upon the Melons:— Oh the misery of an expecting Lover! Well I'll even despair, go into my Arbour, and try to sleep; in a dream I shall enjoy her in despite of her. Goes into the Arbour and lies down.  Enter Johayma wrapped up in a Moorish Mantle. Joh. 
Thus far my love has carried me, almost without my knowledge whither I was going: Shall I go on, shall I discover myself!— What an injury am I doing to my old Husband!— Yet what injury, since he's old, and has three Wives and six Concubines besides me! 'Tis but stealing my own tithe from him.  She comes a little nearer the Arbour. Antonio raising himself a little and looking. 
At last 'tis she: this is no illusion I am sure; 'tis a true She-devil of Flesh and Blood; and she could never have taken a fit time to tempt me.—  Joh. 
He's young and handsome.—  Ant. 
Yes, well enough I thank nature. Aside.  Joh. 
And I am yet neither old nor ugly: sure he will not refuse me.  Ant. 
No, thou mayst pawn thy maidenhead upon't he wonot. Aside.  Joh. 
The Mufti would feast himself upon other Women, and keep me fasting.  Ant. 
O, the holy Curmudgeon! Aside.  Joh. 
Would Preach abstinence, and practice luxury! but I thank my Stars, I have edified more by his example than his precept.  Anton. 
Most divinely argued; she's the best Casuist in all Africa. Aside.  He rushes out and embraces her. 
I can hold no longer from embracing thee my dear Morayma: the old unconscionable whoreson thy Father, could he expect cold chastity from a Child of his begetting?  Joh. 
What nonsense do you talk? do you take me for the Mufti's Daughter?  Ant. 
Why are you not Madam?  throwing off her Barnus. Joh. 
I find you had an appointment with Morayma.  Ant. 
By all that's good, the nauseous Wife. Aside.  Joh. 
What you are confounded and stand mute?  Ant. 
Somewhat nonplussed I confess; to hear you deny your name so positively; why are not you Morayma the Mufti's Daughter? Did not I see you with him, did not he present me to you? Were you not so charitable as to give me Money? Ay and to tread upon my foot, and squeeze my hand too, if I may be so bold to remember you of past favours.  Joh. 
And you see I am come to make 'em good, but I am neither moraymas nor the Mufti's Daughter.  Ant. 
Nay, I know not that: but I am sure he is old enough to be your Father: and either Father, or Reverend Father, I heard you call him.  Johayma, 
Once again, how came you to name Morayma?  Ant. 
Another damned mistake of mine: For, ask one of my fellow Slaves, who were the chief Ladies about the house; he answered me Morayma and Johayma; but she it seems is his Daughter, with a Pox to her, and you are his beloved Wife.  Joh. 
Say your beloved Mistress, if you please; for that's the Title I desire. This moonshine grows offensive to my Eyes, come, shall we walk into the arbour? There we may rectify all mistakes.  Ant. 
That's close and dark.  Joh. 
And are those faults to Lovers?  Ant. 
But there I cannot please myself, with the sight of your beauty.  Joh. 
Perhaps you may do better.  Ant. 
But there's not a breath of air stirring.  Joh. 
The breath of Lovers is the sweetest air; but you are fearful.  Ant. 
I am considering, indeed, that if I am taken with you.—  Joh. 
The best way to avoid it, is to retire, where we may not be discovered.  Ant. 
Where lodges your Husband?  Joh. 
Just against the face of this open Walk.  Ant. 
Then he has seen us already, for aught I know.  Joh. 
You make so many Difficulties, I fear I am displeasing to you.  Ant. 
aside. If Morayma comes and takes me in the arbour with her, I have made a fine exchange of that Diamond for this pibble.  Joh. 
You are much fallen off, let me tell you, from the fury of your first embrace.  Ant. 
I confess, I was somewhat too furious at first, but you will forgive the transport of my passion; now I have considered it better, I have a qualm of Conscience.  Joh. 
Of Conscience! Why, what has Conscience to do with two young Lovers that have opportunity?  Ant. 
Why truly Conscience is something to blame for interposing in our matters: But how can I help it, if I have a Scruple to betray my Master?  Joh. 
There must be something more in it; for your Conscience was very quiet when you took me for Morayma.  Ant. 
I grant you, Madam, when I took you for his Daughter: For than I might have made you an honourable amends by Marriage.  Joh. 
You Christians are such peeking Sinners, you tremble at a Shadow in the moonshine.  Ant. 
And you Africans are such Termagants, you stop at nothing. I must be plain with you, you are married, and to a Holy Man, the Head of your Religion: Go back to your Chamber, go back, I say, and consider of it for this night; as I will do on my part: I will be true to you, and invent all the Arguments I can to comply with you; and who knows, but at our next meeting, the sweet Devil may have more power over me: I am true flesh and blood, I can tell you that for your comfort.  Joh. 
Flesh without blood I think thou art; or if any, 'tis as cold as that of Fishes. But I'll teach thee, to thy cost, what Vengeance is in store for refusing a Lady, who has offered thee her Love:— Help, Help, there; will no body come to my assistance?  Ant. 
What do you mean, Madam, for Heaven's sake peace; your Husband will hear you; think of your own danger, if you will not think of mine.  Joh. 
Ingrateful Wretch, thou deserv'st no pity: Help, Help, Husband, or I shall be ravished: The Villain will be too strong for me. Help, help, for pity of a poor distressed Creature.  Ant. 
Then I have nothing but impudence to assist me: I must drown her clamour what e'er comes on't.  He takes out his Flute, and plays as loud as he can possibly, and she continues crying out. Enter the Mufti in his nightgown, and two Servants. Mufti, 
O thou Villain, what horrible impiety art thou committing? What ravishing the Wife of my Bosom? Take him away, ganch him, impale him, rid the World of such a Monster.  Servants seize him. Ant. 
Mercy, dear Master, Mercy: Hear me first, and after, if I have deserved hanging, spare me not: What have you seen to provoke you to this cruelty?  Mufti, 
I have heard the outcries of my Wife; the bleat of the poor innocent Lamb: Seen nothing, sayest thou? If I see the Lamb lie bleeding, and the Butcher by her with his Knife drawn and bloody, is not that evidence sufficient of the murder? I come too late, and the Execution is already done.  Ant. 
Pray think in reason, Sir, is a Man to be put to death for a similitude? No Violence has been committed; none intended: The Lamb's alive; and if I durst tell you so, no more a Lamb than I am a Butcher.  Joh. 
How's that, Villain, darest thou accuse me?  Ant. 
Be patiented Madam, and speak but truth, and I'll do any thing to serve you: I say again, and swear it too, I'll do any thing to serve you.  Joh. 
aside. I understand him; but I fear, 'tis now too late to save him:— Pray hear him speak, Husband; perhaps he may say something for himself; I know not.  Mufti, 
Speak thou, has he not violated my Bed and thy honour?  Joh. 
I forgive him freely; for he has done nothing: What he will do hereafter, to make me satisfaction, himself best knows.  Ant. 
Any thing, any thing, sweet Madam: I shall refuse no drudgery.  Muf. 
But, did he mean no mischief? Was he endeavouring nothing?  Joh. 
In my Conscience, I begin to doubt he did not.  Muf. 
'Tis impossible: Then what meant all those outcries?  Joh. 
I heard music in the Garden, and at an unseasonable time of night; and I stole softly out of my Bed, as imagining it might be he.  Muf. 
How's that Johayma? Imagining it was he, and yet you went?  Joh. 
Why not, my Lord? Am not I the mistress of the Family? And is it not my place to see good Orders kept in it? I thought he might have allured some of the Shee-slaves to him; and was resolved to prevent what might have been betwixt him and them; when on the sudden he rushed out upon me, caught me in his arms, with such a fury.—  Muf. 
I have heard enough, away with him.—  Joh. 
Mistaking me, no doubt, for one of his fellow Slaves: With that, affrighted as I was, I discovered myself, and cried aloud: But as soon as ever he knew me, the Villain let me go, and I must needs say, he started back, as if I were some Serpent; and was more afraid of me than I of him.  Muf. 
O thou corrupter of my Family, that's cause enough of death; once again, away with him.  Joh. 
What, for an intended Trespass? No harm has been done, whatever may be. He cost you five hundred Crowns I take it.—  Muf. 
Thou sayest true, a very considerable Sum: He shall not die, though he had committed folly with a Slave; 'tis too much to lose by him.  Ant. 
My only fault has ever been to love playing in the dark, and the more she cried, the more I played; that it might be seen I intended nothing to her.  Muf. 
To your Kennel, Sirrah, mortify your flesh, and consider in whose Family you are.  Joh. 
And one thing more; remember from henceforth to obey better.  Muf. 
aside. For all her smoothness, I am not quite cured of my jealousy; but I have thought of a way that will clear my doubts.  Exit Mufti with Johayma and Servants. Ant. 
I am mortified sufficiently already, without the help of his ghostly Counsel. Fear of Death has gone farther with me in two Minutes, than my Conscience would have gone in two Months. I find myself in a very dejected condition▪ all over me; poor Sin lies dormant, Concupiscence is retired to his winter quarters; and if Morayma should now appear, I say no more, but alas for her and me!  (Morayma comes out of the Arbour; she steals behind him, and claps him on the back.) Morayma, 
And if Morayma should appear, as she does appear, alas you say for her and you!  Antonio, 
Art thou there, my sweet temptation! my Eyes, my Life, my Soul, my all!  Morayma, 
A mighty compliment, when all these, by your own Confession, are just nothing.  Ant. 
Nothing, till thou cam'st to new create me; thou dost not know the power of thy own Charms: let me embrace thee, and thou shalt see how quickly I can turn wicked.  Morayma 
stepping back. Nay, if you are so dangerous, 'tis best keeping you at a distance; I have no mind to warm a frozen Snake in my bosom; he may chance to recover, and sting me for my pains.  Ant. 
Consider what I have suffered for thy sake already; and make me some amends: two disappointments in a night, O cruel Creature!  Mor. 
And you may thank yourself for both: I came eagerly to the Charge, before my time, through the back walk behind the Arbour; and you, like a freshwater Soldier, stood guarding the Pass before: if you missed the Enemy, you may thank your own dulness.  Anton. 
Nay, if you will be using stratagems, you shall give me leave to make use of my advantages, now I have you in my power: we are fairly met; I'll try it out, and give no quarter.  Mor. 
By your favour, Sir, we meet upon treaty now, and not upon defiance.  Ant. 
If that be all, you shall have Cart blanch immediately; for I long to be ratifying.  Mor. 
No, now I think on't, you are already entered into Articles with my Enemy Johayma: Any thing to serve you Madam; I shall refuse no drudgery: whose words were those Gentleman? was that like a Cavalier of honour?  Anton. 
Not very heroic; but self preservation is a point above Honour and Religion too— Antonio was a Rogue I must confess; but you must give me leave to love him.  Mor. 
To beg your life so basely; and to present your Sword to your Enemy; Oh Recreant!  Ant. 
If I had died honourably, my fame indeed would have sounded loud, but I should never have heard the blast: Come, don't make yourself worse natured than you are: to save my life, you would be content I should promise any thing.  Mor. 
Yes, if I were sure you would perform nothing.  Ant. 
Can you suspect I would leave you for Johayma?  Mor. 
No; but I can expect you would have both of us: Love is covetous, I must have all of you; heart for heart is an equal truck. In short, I am younger; I think handsomer; and am sure I love you better, she has been my stepmother these fifteen years: you think that's her face you see, but 'tis only a daubed Vizard: she wears an Armour of proof upon't: an inch thick of Paint, besides the Wash: her Face is so fortified that you can make no approaches to it, without a Shovel. But for her constancy, I can tell you for your comfort, she will love till death, I mean till yours: for when she has worn you out, she will certainly dispatch you to another world, for fear of telling tales; as she has already served three Slaves, your Predecessors of happy memory in her favours. She has made my pious Father a three piled Cuckold to my knowledge: and now she would be robbing me of my single Sheep too.  Ant. 
Prithee prevent her then; and at least take the shearing of me first.  Mor. 
No; I'll have a butcher's pennyworth of you; first secure the carcase, and then take the fleece into the bargain.  Ant. 
Why sure, you did not put yourself and me to all this trouble, for a dry come off: by this hand— (taking it:)  Mor. 
Which you shall never touch; but upon better assurances than you imagine. (Pulling her hand away.)  Ant. 
I'll marry thee, and make a Christian of thee thou pretty damned Infidel.  Mor. 
I mean you shall: but no earnest, till the bargain be made before witness: there's love enough to be had, and as much as you can turn you to; never doubt it, but all upon honourable terms.  Ant. 
I vow and swear by Love; and he's a Deity in all Religions.  Mor. 
But never to be trusted in any: he has another name too, of a worse sound. Shall I trust an Oath, when I see your Eyes languishing, your Cheeks flushing, and can hear your heart throbbing? no, I'll not come near you: He's a foolish physician who will feel the pulse of a Patient, that has the Plague-spots upon him.  Ant. 
Did one ever hear a little Moppet, argue so perversely against so good a Cause! Come, prithee, let me anticipate a little of my Revenue.  Mor. 
You would feign be fingering your Rents beforehand; but that makes a man an ill Husband ever after. Consider, Marriage is a painful Vocation, as you shall prove it, manage your Incomes as thriftily as you can, you shall find a hard task on't, to make even at the years end, and yet to live decently.  Ant. 
I came with a Christian intention, to revenge myself upon thy Father; for being the head of a false Religion.  Mor. 
And so you shall; I offer you his Daughter for your Second: but since you are so pressing, meet me under my Window, to morrow night, body for body, about this hour; I'll slip down out of my Lodging, and bring my Father in my hand.  Ant. 
How, thy Father!  Mor. 
I mean all that's good of him; his Pearls, and Jewels, his whole contents, his heart, and Soul; as much as ever I can carry. I'll leave him his Koran; that's revenue enough for him: every page of it is Gold and Diamonds. He has the turn of an Eye, a demure Smile, and a godly Cant, that are worth Millions to him. I forgot to tell you, that I will have a Slave prepared at the Postern gate, with two Horses ready saddled: no more, for I fear, I may be missed; and think I hear 'em calling me,— if you have constancy and Courage.—  Ant. 
Never doubt it: and love, in abundance to wander with thee all the World over.  Mor. 
The value of twelve hundred thousand Crowns in a Casket!—  Ant. 
A heavy burden Heaven knows! but we must pray for patience to support it.  Mor. 
Besides a willing Titt that will venture her corpse with you:— Come, I know you long to have a parting blow with me; and therefore to show I am in Charity— (He kisses her.)  Ant. 
Once more, for pity; that I may keep the flavour upon my lips till we meet again.  Mor. 
No; frequent Charities make bold Beggars: and besides I have learned of a Falconer, never to feed up a Hawk when I would have him fly: that's enough— but if you will be nibbling, here's a hand to stay your stomach. (Kissing her hand.)  Anton. 
Thus conquered Infidels, that Wars may cease,  
Are forced to give their hands, and sign the Peace.  Mor. 
Thus Christians are outwitted by the Foe;  
You had her in your power, and let her go.  
If you release my hand, the fault's not mine,  
You should have made me seal, as well as sign.  She runs off, he follows her to the door; then comes back again, and goes out at the other.   

ACT iu.  

Scene 1. Benducar 's palace in the Castle of Alcazar.  Bend. 
MY future Fate, the colour of my life, Solus.  
My all depends on this important hour:  
This hour my Lott is weighing in the Scales,  
And heaven, perhaps, is doubting what to do.  
Almeyda and a Crown, have pushed me forward;  
'Tis fixed, the Tyrant must not ravish her:  
He and Sebastian stand betwixt my hopes;  
He most; and therefore first to be dispatched.  
These and a thousand things are to be done  
In the short compass of this rolling Night,  
And nothing yet performed,  
None of my Emissaries yet returned.  Enter Haly— First Servant. 
Oh Haly, thou hast held me long in pain.  
What hast thou learned of Dorax? is he dead?  Haly, 
Two hours I warily have watched his Palace;  
All doors are shut, no Servant peeps abroad;  
Some Officers with striding hast passed in,  
While others outward went on quick dispatch;  
Sometimes hushed silence seemed to reign within;  
Then Cries confused, and a joint clamour followed;  
Then Lights went gliding by, from room to room,  
And shot like thwarting Meteors cross the house:  
Not daring farther to inquire: I came  
With speed, to bring you this imperfect news.  Bend. 
Hence I conclude him either dead or dying:  
His mournful Friends, summoned to take their leaves,  
Are thronged about his Couch, and sit in Council,  
What those Caballing Captains may design,  
I must prevent,  
By being first in Action.  
To Muley Zeydan fly with speed, desire him  
To take my last instructions; tell th' importance  
And hast his presence here. Exit Haly.  
How has this Poison lost its wont way?  
It should have burnt its passage, not have lingered  
In the blind Labyrinths and crooked turn  
Of human Composition; now it moves  
Like a slow Fire that works against the Wind,  
As if his stronger Stars had interposed.  Enter Hamet. 
Well Hamet, are our Friends the Rabble raised?  
From Mustafa, what Message?  Hamet, 
What you wish:  
The streets are thicker in this noon of Night:  
Than at the midday Sun: a drowsy horror  
Sits on their Eyes, like fear not well awake,  
All crowd in heaps, as at a Night Alarm  
The Bees drive out upon each others backs,  
T' imboss their Hives in clusters; all ask news:  
Their busy Captain runs the weary round  
To whisper Orders; and commanding silence  
Makes not noise cease; but deafens it to murmurs.  Bend. 
Night wastes apace: when, when will he appear?  Hamet, 
He only waits your Summons.  Bend. 
Hast their coming.  
Let secrecy and silence be enjoined  
In their close march: what news from the Lieutenant?  Hamet, 
I left him at the Gate, firm to your Interest,  
T' admit the Townsmen at their first appearance.  Bend. 
Thus far 'tis well: go hasten Mustafa.  Exit Ham. Enter Orchan the Third Servant. 
O, Orchan, did I think thy diligence  
Would lag behind the rest? what from the Mufti?  Orchan, 
I sought him round his Palace; made enquiry  
Of all the Slaves: in short, I used your name  
And urged th' importance home; but had for answer  
That since the shut of Evening none had seen him.  Bend. 
O the cursed fate of all Conspiracies!  
They move on many Springs, if one but fail  
The restiff Machine stops.— In an ill hour he's absent;  
'Tis the first time, and sure will be the last  
That e'er a Mufti was not in the way,  
When Tumult and Rebellion should be broached.  
Stay by me; thou art resolute and faithful;  
I have Employment worthy of thy Arm. Walks.  Enter Muley Zeydan. Muley Zeyd. 
You see me come impatient of my hopes,  
And eager as the Courser for the Race:  
Is all in readiness?  Bend. 
All but the Mufti.  Mul. Zeyd. 
We must go on without him.  Bend. 
True we must;  
For 'tis ill stopping in the full Career,  
How e'er the leap be dangerous and wide.  Orchan looking out. 
I see the blaze of Torches from afar;  
And hear the trampling of thick beating feet;  
This way they move.  Bend. 
No doubt the Emperor.  
We must not be surprised in Conference.  
Trust to my management the tyrant's death;  
And hast yourself to join with Mustafa.  
The Officer who guards the Gate is yours;  
When you have gained that Pass, divide your Force;  
Yourself in Person head one chosen half,  
And march t' oppress the Faction in Consult  
With dying Dorax: Fate has driven 'em all  
Into the Net: you must be bold and sudden:  
Spare none, and if you find him struggling yet  
With pangs of Death, trust not his rolling Eyes  
And heaving gasps; for Poison may be false,  
The homethrust of a friendly Sword is sure.  Mul. Zeyd. 
Doubt not my Conduct: they shall be surprised;  
Mercy may wait without the Gate one Night,  
At Morn I'll take her in.—  Bend. 
Here lies your way,  
You meet your Brother there.  Mul. Zeyd. 
May we ne'er meet:  
For, like the Twins of Leda, when I mount  
He gallops down the Skies.—  Exit Muley Zeyd. Bend. 
He comes: now Heart  
Be ribbed with Iron for this one attempt:  
Set open thy sluices, send the vigorous blood  
Through every active Limb for my relief:  
Then, take thy rest within thy quiet Cell,  
For thou shalt drum no more.  Enter Muley Moluch and Guards attending him. Mul. Mol. 
What news of our Affairs, and what of Dorax?  
Is he no more? say that, and make me happy.  Bend. 
May all your Enemies be like that Dog,  
Whose parting Soul is labouring at the Lips.  Mul. Mol. 
The People, are they raised?  Bend. 
And marshaled too;  
Just ready for the March.  Mul. Mol. 
Then I'm at ease.  Bend. 
The Night is yours, the glittering host of heaven  
Shines but for you; but most the Star of Love,  
That twinkles you to fair almeydas Bed.  
Oh there's a joy, to melt in her embrace,  
Dissolve in pleasures;  
And make the gods curse Immortality,  
That so they could not die.  
But haste, and make 'em yours.  Mul. Mol. 
I will; and yet  
A kind of weight hangs heavy at my Heart;  
My flagging Soul flies under her own pitch;  
Like Fowl in air too damp, and lugs along,  
As if she were a body in a body,  
And not a mounting substance made of Fire.  
My Senses too are dull and stupefied,  
Their edge rebated; sure some ill approaches,  
And some kind Spirit knocks softly at my Soul,  
To tell me Fate's at hand.  Bend. 
Mere Fancies all.  
Your Soul has been beforehand with your Body,  
And drunk so deep a Draught of promised bliss,  
She slumbers o'er the Cup; no danger's near,  
But of a Surfeit at too full a Feast.  Mul. Mol. 
It may be so; it looks so like the Dream  
That overtook me at my waking hour  
This Morn; and Dreams they say are then divine,  
When all the balmy vapours are exhaled,  
And some o'er-pow'ring God continues sleep.  
'Twas than methought Almeyda, smiling, came  
Attended with a Train of all her Race,  
Whom in the rage of Empire I had murdered.  
But now, no longer Foes, they gave me Joy  
Of my new Conquest, and with helping hands  
Heaved me into our Holy Prophet's arms,  
Who bore me in a purple Cloud to heaven.  Bend. 
Good Omen, Sir, I wish you in that Heaven▪  
Your Dream portends you.  
Which presages death.— Aside.  Mul. Mol. 
Thou too wert there;  
And thou methought didst push me from below,  
With thy full force to Paradise.  Bend. 
Yet better.  Mul. Mol. 
Ha! What's that grizly Fellow that attends thee?  Bend. 
Why ask you Sir?  Mul. Mol. 
For he was in my Dream;  
And helped to heave me up.  Bend. 
With prayers and Wishes;  
For I dare swear him honest.  Mul. Mol. 
That may be;  
But yet he looks Damnation.  Bend. 
You forget,  
The Face would please you better: Do you love,  
And can you thus forbear?  Mul. Mol. 
I'll head my People;  
Then think of dalliance, when the danger's over.  
My warlike Spirits work now another way;  
And my Soul's tuned to Trumpets.  Bend. 
You debase yourself,  
To think of mixing with th' ignoble Herd.  
Let such perform the fervile Work of War,  
Such who have no Almeyda to enjoy.  
What shall the People know their godlike Prince  
Skulked in a nightly Skirmish? Stole a Conquest,  
Headed a Rabble, and profaned his Person,  
Shouldered with Filth, born in a tide of Ordure,  
And stifled with their rank offensive Sweat?  Mul. Mol. 
I am off again: I will not prostitute  
The Regal Dignity so far, to head 'em.  Bend. 
There spoke a King.  
Dismiss your Guards to be employed elsewhere  
In ruder Combats: You will want no Seconds  
In those Alarms you seek.  Mul. Mol. 
Go join the Crowd; to the Guards.  
Benducar; thou shalt lead 'em, in my place. Exeunt Guards.  
The God of Love once more has shot his Fires  
Into my Soul; and my whole Heart receives him.  
Almeyda now returns with all her Charms;  
I feel her as she glides along my Veins,  
And dances in my Blood: So when our Prophet  
Had long been ham'ring in his lonely Cell,  
Some dull, insipid, tedious Paradise,  
A brisk Arabian Girl came tripping by;  
Passing she cast at him a side-long glance,  
And looked behind in hopes to be pursued:  
He took the hint, embraced the flying Fair;  
And having found his heaven, he fixed it there. Exit Mul. Mol.  Bend. 
That Paradise thou never shalt possess.  
His death is easy now, his Guards are gone;  
And I can sin but once to seize the Throne.  
All after Acts are sanctified by power.  Orchan. 
Command my Sword and Life.  Bend. 
I thank thee Orchan,  
And shall reward thy Faith: This Master Key  
Frees every Lock, and leads us to his Person:  
And should we miss our blow, as heaven forbidden,  
Secures retreat: Leave open all behind us;  
And first set wide the Mufti's Garden Gate,  
Which is his private passage to the Palace.  
For there our Mutineers appoint to meet,  
And thence we may have aid. Now sleep ye Stars  
That silently o'erwatch the fate of Kings;  
Be all propitious Influences barred,  
And none but murderous Planets mount the Guard.  Exit with Orcha·  

A Night Scene of the Mufti's Garden.  Enter the Mufti alone, in a Slave's habit, like that of Antonio. Mufti, 
This 'tis to have a sound Head-piece; by this I have got to be chief of my Religion; that is, honestly speaking 〈◊〉 teach others what I neither know nor believe myself. for what's Mahomet to me, but that I get by him? Now for my Policy of this night: I have mewed up my suspected Spouse in her Chamber. No more Embassies to that lusty young Stallion of a gardener. Next my habit of a Slave; I have made myself as like him as I can, all but his youth and vigour; which when I had, I passed my time as well as any of my Holy Predecessors. Now walking under the Windows of my Seraglio, if Johayma look out, she will certainly take me for Antonio, and call to me; and by that I shall know what Concupiscence is working in her; she cannot come down to commit Iniquity, there's my safety; but if she peep, if she put her Nose abroad, there's demonstration of her pious Will: And I'll not make the first precedent for a churchman to forgive Injuries.  Enter Morayma running to him with a Casket in her hand, and embracing him. Mor. 
Now I can embrace you with a good Conscience; here are the Pearls and Jewels, here's my Father.  Muf. 
I am indeed thy Father; but how the Devil didst thou know me in this disguise? And what Pearls and Jewels dost thou mean?  Mor. 
going back,— What have I done, and what will now become of me!  Muf. 
Art thou mad, Morayma?  Mor. 
I think you'll make me so.  Muf. 
Why, what have I done to thee? Recollect thyself, and speak sense to me.  Mor. 
Then give me leave to tell you, you are the worst of Fathers.  Muf. 
Did I think I had begotten such a Monster? Proceed my dutiful Child, proceed, proceed.  Mor. 
You have been raking together a mass of Wealth, by indirect and wicked means; the Spoils of Orphans are in these Jewels, and the Tears of Widows in these Pearls.  Muf. 
Thou amazest me!  Mor. 
I would do so. This Casket is loaded with your Sins; 'tis the Cargo of Rapines, Simony, and Extortions; the Iniquity of thirty Years Muftiship, converted into Diamonds.  Muf. 
Would some rich railing Rogue would say as much to me, that I might squeeze his Purse for scandal.  Mor. 
No Sir, you get more by pious Fools than railers, when you insinuate into their Families, manage their fortune's while they live, and beggar their Heirs by getting Legacies when they die. And do you think I'll be the receiver of your Theft? I discharge my Conscience of it: Here take again your filthy Mammon, and restore it you had best to the true Owners.  Muf. 
I am finely documented by my own Daughter.  Mor. 
And a great credit for me to be so: Do but think how decent a Habit you have on, and how becoming your Function to be disguised like a Slave, and eyes-dropping under the women's Windows, to be saluted, as you deserve it richly, with a pisspot: If I had not known you casually by your shambling gate, and a certain reverend awkardness that is natural to all of your Function, here you had been exposed to the laughter of your own Servants; who have been in search of you through your whole Seraglio, peeping under every Petticoat to find you.  Muf. 
Prithee Child reproach me no more of human Failings; they are but a little of the pitch and spots of the World that are still sticking on me; but I hope to scour 'em out in time: I am better at bottom than thou thinkest; I am not the Man thou tak'st me for.  Mor. 
No, to my sorrow Sir you are not.  Muf. 
It was a very odd beginning, though methought, to see thee come running in upon me with such a warm embrace; prithee what was the meaning of that violent hot Hug?  Mor. 
I am sure I meant nothing by it, but the zeal and affection which I bear to the Man of the World, whom I may love lawfully.  Muf. 
But thou wilt not teach me at this age the nature of a close Embrace?  Mor. 
No indeed; for my Mother in Law complains, that you are past teaching: But if you mistook my innocent Embrace for Sin, I wish hearty it had been given where it would have been more acceptable.  Muf. 
Why, this is as it should be now: Take the Treasure again, it can never be put into better hands.  Mor. 
Yes, to my knowledge but it might. I have confessed my Soul to you, if you can understand me rightly; I never disobeyed you till this night, and now since through the violence of my Passion, I have been so unfortunate, I humbly beg your pardon, your blessing, and your leave, that upon the first opportunity, I may go for ever from your sight; for Heaven knows, I never desire to see you more.  Muf. 
Wiping his Eyes. Thou makest me weep at thy unkindness; indeed dear Daughter we will not part.  Mor. 
Indeed dear Daddy but we will.  Muf. 
Why if I have been a little pilfering, or so, I take it bitterly of thee to tell me of it; since it was to make thee rich; and I hope a Man may make bold with his own Soul, without offence to his own Child: Here take the jewels again, take'em I charge thee upon thy Obedience.  Mor. 
Well then, in virtue of Obedience I will take 'em; but on my Soul, I had rather they were in a better hand.  Muf. 
Meaning mine, I know it.  Mor. 
Meaning his whom I love better than my life.  Muf. 
That's I again.  Mor. 
I would have you think so.  Muf. 
How thy good nature works upon me; well I can do no less than venture damning for thee, and I may put fair for it, if the Rabble be ordered to rise to Night.  Enter Antonio in an African rich habit. Ant. 
What do you mean my Dear, to stand talking in this suspicious place, just underneath Johayma's Window? (to the Mufti) You are well met comrade, I know you are the friend of our flight? are the horses ready at the postern gate?  Muf. 
Antonio, and in disguise! now I begin to smell a rat.  Ant. 
And I another, that out-stinks it; false Morayma, hast thou thus betrayed me to thy Father!  Mor. 
Alas, I was betrayed myself: He came disguised like you, and I poor Innocent ran into his hands.  Muf. 
In good time you did so; I laid a trap for a Bitch Fox, and a worse vermin has caught himself in it: you would fain break lose now, though you left a limb behind you; but I am yet in my own Territories and in call of Company, that's my comfort.  Antonio, taking him by the throat. 
No; I have a trick left to put thee past thy squeaking: I have given thee the quinzey; that ungracious tongue shall Preach no more false doctrine.  Mor. 
What do you mean? you will not throttle him? consider he's my Father.  Ant. 
Prithee let us provide first for our own safety; if I do not consider him, he will consider us with a vengeance afterwards.  Mor. 
You may threaten him for crying out, but for my sake give him back a little cranny of his windpipe, and some part of Speech.  Ant. 
Not so much as one single Interjection: Come away Father-in-Law, this is no place for Dialogues, when you are in the Mosque you talk by hours, and there no Man must interrupt you; this is but like for like, good Father-in-Law; now I am in the Pulpit 'tis your turn to hold your tongue.  He struggles. 
Nay if you will be hanging back, I shall take care you shall hang forward.  (Pulls him along the Stage; with his Sword at his reins.) Mor. 
Tother way to the Arbour with him; and make haste before we are discovered.  Ant. 
If I only bind and gag him there, he may commend me hereafter for civil usage; he deserves not so much favour by any action of his life.  Mor. 
Yes, pray bate him one, for begetting your Mistress.  Ant. 
I would, if he had not thought more of thy Mother than of thee; once more come along in silence, my Pythagorean Father-in-Law.  Joh. 
At the Balcony.— A Bird in a Cage may peep at least; though she must not fly; what bustles there beneath my Window? Antonio by all my hopes, I know him by his habit; but what makes that Woman with him, and a Friend, a Sword drawn, and hasting hence? this is no time for silence: Who's within, call there, where are the Servants, why Omar, Abedin, Hassan and the rest, make haste and run into the Garden; there are thiefs and Villains; arm all the Family, and stop 'em.  Antonio turning back. 
O that Schriech Owl at the Window! we shall be pursued immediately; which way shall we take?  Morayma (giving him the Casket.) 
'Tis impossible to escape them; for the way to our Horses lies back again by the House; and then we shall meet 'em full in the teeth; here take these Jewels; thou may'st leap the Walls and get away.  Ant. 
And what will become of thee then poor kind Soul?  Mor. 
I must take my fortune; when you are got safe into your own Country, I hope you will bestow a sigh on the memory of her who loved you!  Ant. 
It makes me mad, to think how many a good night will be lost betwixt us! take back thy Jewels; 'tis an empty Casket without thee; besides I should never leap well with the weight of all thy father's sins about me, thou and they had been a bargain.  Mor. 
Prithee take 'em, 'twill help me to be revenged on him.  Ant. 
No; they'll serve to make thy peace with him.  Mor. 
I hear 'em coming; shift for yourself at least; remember I am yours for ever.  (Servant's crying this way, this way, behind the Scenes.) Ant. 
And I but the empty shadow of myself without thee! Farewell Father-in-Law, that should have been, if I had not been cursed in my mother's belly— Now which way fortune.—  (Runs amazedly backwards and forwards.) Servant's within. Fellow, follow, yonder are the Villains. Ant. 
O here's a gate open; but it leads into the Castle; yet I must venture it. Going out.  (A shout behind the Scenes where Antonio is going out) Ant. 
There's the Rabble in a Mutiny; what is the Devil up at Midnight!— however 'tis good herding in a Crowd.  Runs out. (Mufti runs to Morayma and lays hold on her, then snatches away the Casket.) Muf. 
Now, to do things in order, first I seize upon the Bag, and then upon the Baggage: for thou art but my flesh and blood, but these are my Life and Soul.  Mor. 
Then let me follow my flesh and blood, and keep to yourself your Life and Soul.  Muf. 
Both or none; come away to durance.  Mor. 
Well, if it must be so, agreed; for I have another trick to play you; and thank yourself for what shall follow.  Enter servant's. Joh. 
From above. One of them took through the private way into the Castle; follow him be sure, for these are yours already.  Mor. 
Help here quickly Omar Abedin; I have hold on the Villain that stole my jewels; but 'tis a lusty Rogue, and he will prove too strong for me; what, help I say, do you not know your master's Daughter?  Muf. 
Now if I cry out they will know my voice; and then I am disgraced for ever: O thou art a venomous Cockatrice!  Mor. 
Of your own begetting. The Servants seize him.  First Servant. 
What a glorious deliverance have you had Madam from this bloody-minded Christian!  Mor. 
Give me back my Jewels, and carry this notorious Malefactor to be punished by my Father.  
I'll hunt the other dryfoot. (Takes the Jewels and runs out after Antonio at the same Passage.)  First Servant. 
I long to be handselling his hide, before we bring him to my Master.  Second Servant. 
Hang him, for an old Covetous Hypocrite: he deserves a worse punishment himself for keeping us so hardly.  First Servant. 
Ay, would he were in this villain's place; thus I would lay him on, and thus.  Beats him. Second Servant. 
And thus would I revenge myself of my last beating,  (He beats him too, and then the rest.) Muf. 
Oh, oh, oh!  First Servant. 
Now supposing you were the Mufti, Sir,—  Beats him again. Muf. 
The Devil's in that supposing Rascal; I can bear no more; and I am the Mufti: Now suppose yourselves my Servants, and hold your hands; an anointed halter take you all.  First Servant. 
My Master! you will pardon the excess of our zeal for you, Sir, indeed we all took you for a Villain, and so we used you.  Mufti. 
Ay so I feel you did; my back and sides are abundant testimonies of your zeal. Run Rogues, and bring me back my Jewels, and my Fugitive Daughter: run I say.  (They run to the Gate and the first Servant runs back again.) First Servant. 
Sir, the Castle is in a most terrible combustion; you may hear 'em hither.  Muf. 
'Tis a laudable commotion: The voice of the Mobile is the voice of Heaven. I must retire a little, to strip me of the Slave, and to assume the Mufti; and then I will return: for the piety of the People must be encouraged; that they may help me to recover my Jewels, and my Daughter.  Exit Mufti and Servants. Scene changes to the Castle-yard, and discovers Antonio Mustafa, and the Rabble shouting, they come forward. Ant. 
And so at length, as I informed you, I escaped out of his covetous clutches; and now fly to your illustrious feet for my protection.  Must. 
Thou shalt have it, and now defy the Mufti. 'Tis the first Petition that has been made to me since my exaltation to Tumult; in this second Night of the Month Abib, and in the year of the Hegyra; the Lord knows what year; but 'tis no matter; for when I am settled, the Learned are bound to find it out for me: for I am resolved to date my Authority over the Rabble, like other monarches.  Ant. 
I have always had a longing to be yours again; though I could not compass it before, and had designed you a Casket of my master's jewels too; for I knew the Custom, and would not have appeared before a Great Person, as you are, without a present: But he has defrauded my good intentions, and basely robbed you of 'em, 'tis a prize worth a Million of Crowns, and you carry your Letters of mark about you.  Must. 
I shall make bold with his Treasure, for the support of my New Government. The People gather about him. What do these vile ragamiuffin's so near our Person? your savour is offensive to us; bear back there, and make room for honest Men to approach us; these fools and knaves are always impudently crowding next to Princes, and keeping off the more deserving, bear back I say.  They make a wider Circle. 
That's dutifully done; now shout to show your Loyalty. (A great shout.) hearest thou that, Slave Antonio? these obstreperous villain's shout, and know not for what they make a noise. You shall see me manage 'em, that you may judge what ignorant Beasts they are. For whom do you shout now? who's to Live and Reign? tell me that the wisest of you.  First Rabble. 
Even who you please Captain.  Must. 
La you there; I told you so.  Second Rabble. 
We are not bound to know who is to Live and Reign; our business is only to rise upon command, and plunder.  Third Rabble. 
Ay, the Richest of both Parties; for they are our Enemies.  Must. 
This last Fellow is a little more sensible than the rest; he has entered somewhat into the merits of the Cause.  First Rabble. 
If a poor Man may speak his mind, I think, Captain, that yourself are the fittest to Live and Reign, I mean not over, but next and immediately under the People; and thereupon I say, A Mustafa, A Mustafa.  (All Cry) 
A Mustafa, A Mustafa.  Must. 
I must confess the sound is pleasing, and tickles the ears of my Ambition; but alas good People, it must not be: I am contented to be a poor simple viceroy; but Prince Muley-Zeydan is to be the Man: I shall take care to instruct him in the arts of Government; and in his duty to us all: and therefore mark my Cry: A Muley-Zeydan, A Muley-Zeydan.  (All Cry) 
A Muley-Zeydan, A Muley-Zeydan.  Must. 
You see Slave Antonio, what I might have been.  Antonio. 
I observe your Modesty.  Must. 
But for a foolish promise I made once to my Lord Benducar, to set up any one he pleased.  (Re-enter the Mufti with his Servants.) Ant. 
Here's the Old Hypocrite again; now stand your ground, and bate him not an inch. Remember the Jewels, the Rich and Glorious Jewels; they are destined to be yours, by virtue of Prerogative.  Must. 
Let me alone to pick a quarrel, I have an old grudge to him upon thy account.  Mufti, (making up to the Mobile.) 
Good People, here you are met together.  First Rabble. 
Ay, we know that without your telling, but why are we met together, Doctor? for that's it which no body here can tell.  Second Rabble. 
Why to see one another in the Dark; and to make holiday at Midnight.  Muf. 
You are met, as becomes good Musulmen; to settle the Nation; for I must tell you, that though your Tyrant is a lawful Emperor, yet your lawful Emperor is but a Tyrant.  Ant. 
What stuff he talks!  Must. 
'Tis excellent fine matter indeed, Slave Antonio; he has a rare tongue; Oh, he would move a Rock of Elephant!  Ant. 
Aside. What a Block have I to work upon, To him.  
But still remember the Jewels, Sir, the Jewels.  Must. 
Nay that's true on t'other side: the Jewels must be mine; but he has a pure fine way of talking; my Conscience goes along with him, but the Jewels have set my heart against him.  Muf. 
That your Emperor is a Tyrant is most manifest; for you were born to be Turk's, but he has played the Turk with you; and is taking your Religion away.  Second Rabble. 
We find that in our decay of Trade; I have seen for these hundred years, that Religion and Trade always go together.  Mufti. 
He is now upon the point of Marrying himself, without your Sovereign consent; and what are the effects of Marriage?  Third Rabble. 
A scolding, domineering Wife, if she prove honest; and if a Whore, a fine gaudy Minx, that robs our Counters every Night, and then goes out, and spends it upon our Cuckold-makers.  Mufti. 
No, the natural effects of Marriage are Children: Now on whom would he beget these Children? Even upon a Christian! Oh horrible; how can you believe me, though I am ready to swear it upon the Alcoran! Yes, true Believers, you may believe me, that he is going to beget a Race of Misbelievers.  Must. 
That's fine, in earnest; I cannot forbear harkening to his enchanting Tongue.  Ant. 
But yet remember.—  Must. 
Ay, Ay, the Jewels! Now again I hate him; but yet my Conscience makes me listen to him.  Mufti, 
Therefore to conclude all, Believers, pluck up your Hearts, and pluck down the Tyrant: Remember the Courage of your Ancestors; remember the Majesty of the People; remember yourselves, your Wives and Children; and lastly, above all, remember your Religion, and our holy Mahomet; all these require your timous assistance; shall I say they beg it? No, they claim it of you, by all the nearest and dearest ties of these three P's Self-Preservation, our Property, and our Prophet. Now answer me with an unanimous cheerful Cry, and follow me, who am your Leader to a glorious Deliverance.  (All cry, A Mufti, A Mufti, and are following him off the Stage.) Ant. 
Now you see what comes of your foolish Qualms of Conscience: The Jewels are lost, and they are all leaving you.  Must. 
What am I forsaken of my Subjects? Would the Rogue purloin my liege People from me! I charge you in my own Name come back ye Deserters; and hear me speak.  1 saint. Rabble, 
What will he come with his Balderdash, after the Mufti's eloquent Oration?  2 d. Rabble, 
He's our Captain, lawfully picked up, and elected upon a Stall; we will hear him.  Omnes, 
Speak Captain, for we will hear you.  Must. 
Do you remember the glorious Rapines and Robberies you have committed? Your breaking open and gutting of Houses, your rummaging of Cellars, your demolishing of Christian Temples, and bearing off in triumph the superstitious Plate and Pictures, the Ornaments of their wicked Altars, when all rich movables were sentenced for idolatrous, and all that was idolatrous was seized? Answer first for your remembrance, of all these sweetnesses of Mutiny; for upon those Grounds I shall proceed.  Omnes, 
Yes we do remember, we do remember.  Must. 
Then make much of your retentive Faculties. And who led you to those Hony-Combs? Your Mufti? No, Believers, he only preached you up to it; but durst not lead you; he was but your Counsellor, but I was your Captain; he only lood you, but 'twas I that led you.  Omnes, 
That's true, that's true.  Ant. 
There you were with him for his Figures.  Must. 
I think I was, Slave Antonio. Alas I was ignorant of my own talon.— Say then, Believers, will you have a Captain for your Mufti? Or a Mufti for your Captain? And further to instruct you how to Cry, Will you have a Mufti, or no Mufti?  Omnes, 
No Mufti, no Mufti.  Must. 
That I laid in for'em, Slave Antonio.—  
Do I then spit upon your Faces? Do I discourage Rebellion, Mutiny, Rapine, and Plundering? You may think I do, Believers, but Heaven forbidden: No, I encourage you to all these laudable undertake; you shall plunder, you shall pull down the Government; but you shall do this upon my Authority, and not by his wicked Instigation.  3 d. Rabble, 
Nay, when his turn is served, he may preach up Loyalty again, and Restitution, that he might have another Snack among us.  1 saint. Rabble, 
He may indeed; for 'tis but his saying 'tis Sin, and then we must restore; and therefore I would have a new Religion, where half the Commandments should be taken away, the rest mollified and there should be little or no Sin remaining.  Omnes, 
Another Religion, a new Religion, another Religion.  Must. 
And that may easily be done, with the help of a little Inspiration: For I must tell you, I have a Pigeon at home, of Mahomet's own breed; and when I have learned her to pick Pease out of my Ear, rest satisfied till then, and you shall have another. But now I think on't, I am inspired already, that 'tis no Sin to depose the Mufti.  Ant. 
And good reason; for when Kings and Queens are to be discarded, what should Knaves do any longer in the pack?  Omnes, 
He is deposed, he is deposed, he is deposed.  Must. 
Nay, if he and his Clergy will needs be preaching up Rebellion, and giving us their Blessing, 'tis but justice they should have the first fruits of it.— Slave Antonio, take him into custody; and dost thou hear, Boy, be sure to secure the little transitory Box of Jewels: If he be obstinate, put a civil Question to him upon the Rack, and he squeaks I warrant him.  Ant. 
seizing the Mufti. Come my quondam Master, you and I must change Qualities.  Mufti. 
I hope you will not be so barbarous to torture me, we may preach Suffering to others, but alas, holy Flesh is too well pampered to endure Martyrdom.  Must. 
Now, late Mufti, not forgetting my first Quarrel to you, we will enter ourselves with the Plunder of your Palace: 'tis good to sanctify a Work and begin a God's name.  1 saint. Rabble, 
Our Prophet let the Devil alone with the last Mob.  Mob. 
But he takes care of this himself.  As they are going out enter Benducar leading Almeyda: He with a Sword in one hand; Benducar's Slave follows with Muly-Moluch 's Head upon a Spear. Must. 
Not so much hast Masters; come back again: you are so bend upon mischief, that you take a man upon the first word of Plunder. Here's a sight for you: the Emperor is come upon his head to visit you. [Bowing] Most Noble Emperor, now I hope you will not hit us in the teeth, that we have pulled you down, for we can tell you to your face, that we have exalted you.  [They all shout.] Benducar to Almeyda apart. 
Think what I am, and what yourself may be,  
In being mine: refuse not proffered Love that brings a Crown.  Almeyda to him 
I have resolved,  
And these shall know my thoughts.  Bend. to her. 
On that I build.—  (He comes up to the Rabble.) 
Joy to the People for the tyrant's Death!  
Oppression, Rapine, Banishment and blood  
Are now no more; but speechless as that tongue  
That lies for ever still.  
How is my grief divided with my joy,  
When I must own I killed him! bid me speak,  
For not to bid me, is to disallow  
What for your sakes is done.  Mustafa. 
In the name of the People we command you speak: But that pretty Lady shall speak first; for we have taken somewhat of a liking to her Person, be not afraid Lady to speak to these rude Ragga-muffians: there's nothing shall offend you, unless it be their stink, and please you. Making a leg.  Almeyda. 
Why should I fear to speak who am your Queen?  
My peaceful Father swayed the sceptre long;  
And you enjoyed the Blessings of his Reign,  
While you deserved the name of Africans.  
Than not commanded, but commanding you,  
Fearless I speak: know me for what I am.  Bend. 
How she assumes! I like not this beginning. aside  Almeyda. 
I was not born so base, to flatter Crowds,  
And move your pity by a whining tale:  
Your Tyrant would have forced me to his Bed;  
But in th' attempt of that foul brutal Act,  
These loyal Slaves secured me by his Death. Pointing to Ben.  Bend. 
Makes she no more of me then of a Slave? aside.  
Madam, I thought I had instructed you to Alm.  
To frame a Speech more suiting to the times:  
The Circumstances of that dire design,  
Your own despair, my unexpected aid,  
my Life endangered by his bold defence,  
And after all, his Death, and your deliverance,  
Were themes that ought not to be slighted o'er.  Mustafa. 
She might have passed over all your petty businesses and no great matter: But the Raising of my Rabble is an Exploit of consequence; and not to be mumbled up in silence for all her pertness.  Almeyda. 
When force invades the gift of Nature, Life,  
The eldest Law of nature bids defend:  
And if in that defence, a Tyrant fall, his Death's his Crime not ours:  
Suffice it that he's Dead: all wrongs die with him;  
When he can wrong no more I pardon him:  
Thus I absolve myself; and him excuse,  
Who saved my life, and honour; but praise neither.  Benducar. 
'Tis cheap to pardon, whom you would not pay;  
But what speak I of payment and reward?  
Ungrateful Woman, you are yet no Queen;  
Nor more than a proud haughty Christian slave:  
As such I seize my right. going to lay hold on her.  Almyda drawing a Dagger 
Dare not to approach me;  
Now Africans,  
He shows himself to you; to me he stood  
Confessed before, and owned his Insolence  
T'espouse my person, and assume the Crown,  
Claimed in my Right: for this he slew your Tyrant;  
Oh no, he only changed him for a worse;  
Embased your Slavery by his own vileness,  
And loaded you with more ignoble bonds:  
Then think me not ungrateful, not to share,  
Th' Imperial Crown with a presuming traitor.  
He says I am a Christian; true I am,  
But yet no Slave: If Christians can be thought,  
Unfit to govern those of other Faith,  
'Tis left for you to judge.  Benducar. 
I have not patience; she consumes the time  
In Idle talk, and owns her false Belief:  
Seize her by force, and bear her hence unheard.  
Almeyda to the People. No, let me rather die your sacrifice  
Than live his triumph;  
I throw myself into my people's arms;  
As you are Men compassionate my wrongs,  
And as good men Protect me.  
Antonio aside Something must be done to save her.  
To Mustafa. This is all addressed to you Sir: She singled you out with her eye, as Commander in chief of the Mobility.  Mustafa. 
Thinkest thou so Slave Antonio?  Antonio. 
Most certainly Sir; and you cannot in honour but protect her, Now look to your hits, and make your fortune.  Mustafa. 
Methought indeed she cast a kind leer towards me: Our Prophet was but just such another scoundrel as I am, till he raised himself to power, and consequently to holiness, by marrying his master's Widow: I am resolved I'll put forward for myself: for why should I be my Lord benducars' Fool and Slave, when I may be my own fool and his Master?  Benducar. 
Take her into possession, Mustafa.  Mustafa. 
That's better counsel than you meant it: Yes I do take her into possession, and into protection too: what say you, Masters, will you stand by me?  Omnes. 
One and all; One and all.  Benducar. 
Hast thou betrayed me traitor?  
Mufti speak & mind 'em of Religion. Mufti shakes his head.  Mustafa. 
Alas the poor Gentleman has gotten a cold, with a Sermon of two hours long, and a prayer of four: and besides, if he durst speak, mankind is grown wiser at this time of day, than to cut one another's throats about Religion. Our Mufti is a Green coat, and the Christians is a black coat; and we must wisely go together by the ears, whether green or black shall sweep our spoils. Drum's within and shouts.  Benducar. 
Now we shall see whose numbers will prevail:  
The Conquering troops of Muley Zeydan, come  
To crush Rebellion, and espouse my Cause.  Mustafa. 
We will have a fair trial of Skill for't, I can tell him that. When we have dispatched with Muley Zeydan, your Lordship shall march in equal proportions of your body, to the four gates of the City: and every Tower shall have a Quarter of you, Antonio draws them up and takes Almeyda by the hand  Shouts again and drum's. Enter Dorax and Sebastian attended by African Soldiers and Portugueses. (Almeyda and Sebastian run into each others arms and both speak together. Seb. and Alm. 
My Sebastian! My Almeyda!  Alm. 
Do you then live?  Seb. 
And live to love thee ever.  Bend. 
How! Dorax and Sebastian still alive!  
The Moors and Christians joined! I thank thee Prophet.  Dorax. 
The citadel is ours; and Muley Zeydan  
Safe under Guard, but as becomes a Prince.  
Lay down your arms: such base Plebeian blood  
Would only slain the brightness of my Sword,  
And blunt it for some nobler work behind.  Must. 
I suppose you may put it up without offence to any man here present? For my part, I have been loyal to my sovereign Lady: though that Villain Benducar, and that Hypocrite the Mufti, would have corrupted me; but if those two scape public Justice, than I and all my late honest Subjects here, deserve hanging.  Benducar [to Dorax.] 
I'm sure I did my part to poison thee,  
What Saint soe'er has soddered thee again.  
A Dose less hot had burst through ribs of Iron.  Muf. 
Not knowing that, I poisoned him once more,  
And drenched him with a draught so deadly cold  
That, hadst not thou prevented, had congealed  
The channel of his blood, and froze him dry.  Bend. 
Thou interposing Fool, to mangle mischief,  
And think to mend the perfect work of Hell.  Dorax. 
Thus, when Heaven pleases, double poisons cure.  
I will not tax thee of Ingratitude  
To me thy Friend, who hast betrayed thy Prince:  
Death he deserved indeed, but not from thee.  
But fate it seems reserved the worst of men  
To end the worst of Tyrants.  
Go bear him to his fate.  
And send him to attend his master's Ghost.  
Let some secure my other poisoning Friend,  
Whose double diligence preserved my life.  Ant. 
You are fallen into good hands, Father in law; your sparkling jewels, and Morayma's eyes may prove a better bail than you deserve.  Muf. 
The best that can come of me, in this condition; is to have my life begged first, and then to be begged for a Fool afterwards.  Exit Antonio with the Mufti, and at the same time Benducar is carried off. Dorax to Mustafa. 
You and your hungry herd departed untouched;  
For Justice can not stoop so low, to reach  
The grovelling sin of Crowds: but cursed be they  
Who trust revenge with such mad Instruments,  
Whose blindfold business is but to destroy:  
And like the fire commissioned by the Winds,  
Gins on sheds, but rolling in a round,  
On palaces returns. Away ye scum,  
That still rise upmost when the Nation boils:  
Ye mongrel work of Heaven, with humane shapes,  
Not to be damned, or saved, but breath, and perish,  
That have but just enough of sense, to know  
The master's voice, when rated, to departed.  Exeunt Mustafa and Rabble. Almeyda kneeling to him 
With gratitude as low, as knees can pay  
To those blessed holy Fires, our Guardian angels,  
Receive these thanks; till Altars can be raised.  Dorax raising her up 
Arise fair Excellence, and pay no thanks,  
Till time discover what I have deserved.  Seb. 
More than reward can answer.  
If Portugal and Spain were joined to Africa,  
And the main Ocean crusted into Land,  
If universal Monarchy were mine,  
Here should the gift be placed.  Dorax. 
And from some hands I should refuse that gift:  
Be not too prodigal of Promises;  
But stint your bounty to one only grant,  
Which I can ask with honour.  Seb. 
What I am  
Is but thy gift, make what thou canst of me.  
Secure of no Repulse.  Dorax 
to Sebastian: Dismiss your Train.  
To Almeyda. You, Madam, please one moment to retire.  Sebastian signs to the Portugneses to go off. Almeyda bowing to him, goes off also: The Africans follow her. 
Dorax To the Captain of his Guard. With you one word in private. Goes out with the Captain.  Sebastian Solus. 
Reserved behaviour, open Nobleness,  
A long mysterious Track of a storn bounty.  
But now the hand of Fate is on the Curtain,  
And draws the Scene to sight.  Re-enter Dorax, having taken off his turban and put on a Peruque Hat and Crevat. Dorax. 
Now do you know me?  Seb. 
Thou shouldst be Alonzo.  Dorax. 
So you should be Sebastian:  
But when Sebastian ceased to be himself,  
I ceased to be Alonzo.  Seb. 
As in a Dream.  
I see thee here, and scarce believe mine eyes.  Dorax. 
Is it so strange to find me, where my wrongs,  
And your inhuman Tyranny have sent me?  
Think not you dream: or, if you did, my Injuries  
Shall call so loud, that Lethargy should wake;  
And Death should give you back to answer me.  
A Thousand Nights have brushed their balmy wings  
Over these eyes, but ever when they closed,  
Your Tyrant Image forced 'em open again,  
And dried the dews they brought.  
The long expected hour is come at length,  
By manly vengeance to redeem my fame;  
And that once cleared, eternal sleep is welcome.  Sebast. 
I have not yet forgot I am a King▪  
Whose royal Office is redress of Wrongs:  
If I have wronged thee, charge me face to face;  
I have not yet forgot I am a Soldier.  Dorax. 
'Tis the first Justice thou hast ever done me.  
Then, though I loathe this woman's War of tongues,  
Yet shall my Cause of Vengeance first be clear  
And, Honour, be thou Judge.  Sebast. 
Honour be friend us both.  
Beware, I warn thee yet, to tell thy griefs  
In terms becoming Majesty to hear:  
I warn thee thus, because I know thy temper  
Is Insolent and haughty to superiors:  
How often hast thou braved my peaceful Court,  
Filled it with noisy brawls, and windy boasts;  
And, with past service, nauseously repeated,  
Reproached even me thy Prince?  Dorax. 
And well I might, when you forgot reward,  
The part of heaven in Kings: for punishment▪  
Is hangman's work, and drudgery for Devils.  
I must and will reproach thee with my service,  
Tyrant, (it irks me so to call my Prince.  
But just resentment and hard usage coined  
Th' unwilling word; and grating as it is  
Take it, for 'tis thy due.  Sebast. 
How Tyrant?  Dorax 
Tyrant.  Sebast. 
Traitor? that name thou canst not echo back  
That Robe of Infamy, that Circumcision  
Ill hid beneath that Robe, proclaim thee traitor:  
And, if a Name  
More foul than traitor be, 'tis Renegade.  Dorax. 
If I'm a traitor, think and blush, thou Tyrant,  
Whose Injuries betrayed me into treason.  
Effaced my Loyalty, unhinged my Faith,  
And hurried me from hopes of Heaven to Hell.  
All these, and all my yet unfinished Crimes,  
When I shall rise to plead before the Saints,  
I charge on thee, to make thy damning sure.  Sebast. 
Thy old presumptuous Arrogance again,  
That bred my first dislike, and then my loathing.  
Once more be warned, and know me for thy King.  Dorax. 
Too well I know thee; but for King no more:  
This is not Lisbonne, nor the Circle this,  
Where, like a Statue, thou hast stood besieged,  
By Sycophants and Fools, the growth of Courts:  
Where thy gulled eyes, in all the gaudy round,  
Met nothing but a lie in every face;  
And the gross flattery of a gaping Crowd,  
Envious who first should catch, and first applaud.  
The Stuff of royal nonsense: when I spoke,  
My honest homely words were carped, and censured,  
For want of Courtly style: related Actions,  
Though modestly reported, passed for boasts:  
Secure of Merit if I asked reward,  
Thy hungry Minions thought their rights invaded,  
And the bread snatched from Pimps and parasites.  
Enriquez answered, with a ready lie,  
To save his King's, the boon was begged before.  Sebast. 
What sayest thou of Enriquez? now by Heaven  
Thou movest me more by barely naming him,  
Than all thy foul unmannered scurril taunts.  Dorax. 
And therefore 'twas to gall thee, that I named him:  
That thing, that nothing, but a cringe and smile;  
That Woman, but more daubed; or if a man,  
Corrupted to a Woman: thy Man Mistress.  Sebast. 
All false as Hell or thou.  Dorax. 
Yes; full as false  
As that I served thee fifteen hard Campaignes,  
And pitched thy Standard in these foreign Fields:  
By me thy greatness grew; thy years grew with it,  
But thy Ingratitude outgrew 'em both.  Sebast. 
I see to what thou tend'st, but tell me first  
If those great Acts were done alone for me;  
If love produced not some, and pride the rest?  Dorax. 
Why Love does all that's noble here below;  
But all th' advantage of that love was thine.  
For, coming fraughted back, in either hand  
With Palm and Olive, Victory and Peace,  
I was indeed prepared to ask my own:  
(For Violante's vows were mine before:)  
Thy malice had prevention, ere I spoke:  
And asked me Violante for Enriquez.  Seb. 
I meant thee a reward of greater worth:  Dor. 
Where justice wanted, could reward be hoped?  
Can the robbed Passenger expect a bounty,  
From those rapacious hands who stripped him first?  Seb. 
He had my promise, ere I knew thy love,  Dor. 
My Services deserved thou shouldst revoke it.  Seb. 
Thy Insolence had cancelled all thy Service:  
To violate my Laws, even in my Court,  
Sacred to peace, and safe from all affronts;  
E'ven to my face, as done in my despite,  
Under the wing of awful Majesty  
To strike the man I loved!  Dor. 
Even in the face of Heaven, a place more Sacred,  
Would I have struck the man, who propped by power,  
Would Seize my right, and rob me of my Love:  
But, for a blow provoked by thy Injustice,  
The hasty product of a just despair,  
When he refused to meet me in the field,  
That thou shouldst make a Cowards Cause thy own!  Seb. 
He durst; nay more desired and begged with tears,  
To meet thy Challenge fairly: 'twas thy fault  
to make it public; but my duty, then,  
To interpose; on pain of my displeasure,  
Betwixt your Swords,  Dor. 
On pain of Infamy  
He should have disobeyed.  Seb. 
Th' Indignity thou didst, was meant to me;  
Thy gloomy eyes were cast on me, with scorn,  
As who should say the blow was there intended;  
But that thou didst not dare to lift thy hands  
Against anointed power: so was I forced  
To do a sovereign justice to myself;  
And spurn thee from my presence.  Dor. 
Thou hast dared  
To tell me, what I durst not tell myself:  
I durst not think that I was spurned, and live;  
And live to hear it boasted to my face.  
All my long Avarice of honour lost,  
Heaped up in Youth, and hoarded up for Age;  
Has honours Fountain then sucked back the stream?  
He has; and hooting Boys, may dry shod pass,  
And gather pebbles from the naked Ford.  
Give me my Love, my Honour; give 'em back:—  
Give me revenge; while I have breath to ask it.—  Seb. 
Now, by this honoured Order which I wear,  
More gladly would I give, than thou darest ask it:  
Nor shall the Sacred Character of King  
Be urged, to shield me from thy bold appeal.  
If I have injured thee, that makes us equal:  
The wrong, if done, debased me down to thee.  
But thou hast charged me with Ingratitude:  
Hast thou not charged me; speak?  Dor. 
Thou knowst I have:  
If thou disown'st that Imputation, draw,  
And prove my Charge a lie.  Seb. 
No; to disprove that lie, I must not draw:  
Be conscious to thy worth, and tell thy Soul  
What thou hast done this day in my defence:  
To fight thee, after this, what were it else,  
Than owning that Ingratitude thou urgest?  
That Isthmus stands betwixt two rushing Seas;  
Which, mounting, view each other from afar;  
And strive in vain to meet.  Dor. 
I'll cut that Isthmus.  
Thou knowst I meant not to preserve thy Life,  
But to reprieve it, for my own revenge.  
I saved thee out of honourable malice:  
Now draw; I should be loath to think thou darest not:  
Beware of such another vile excuse.  Seb. 
O patience Heaven!  Dor. 
Beware of Patience too;  
That's a Suspicious word: it had been proper  
Before thy foot had spurned me; now 'tis base:  
Yet, to disarm thee of thy last defence,  
I have thy Oath for my security:  
The only boon I begged was this fair Combat:  
Fight or be perjured now; that's all thy choice.  Sebas. [drawing:] 
Now I can thank thee as thou wouldst be thanked:  
Never was vow of honour better paid,  
If my true Sword but hold, than this shall be.  
The sprightly Bridegroom, on his Wedding Night,  
More gladly enters not the lists of Love.  
Why 'tis enjoyment to be summoned thus.  
Go: bear my Message to Henriquez Ghost;  
And say his Master and his Friend revenged him.  Dor. 
His Ghost! then is my hated rival dead?  Seb. 
The question is beside our present purpose;  
Thou seest me ready; we delay too long.  Dor. 
A minute is not much in either's Life,  
When their's but one betwixt us; throw it in,  
And give it him of us, who is to fall.  Sebast. 
He's dead: make haste, and thou mayst yet o'er take him.  Dor. 
When I was hasty, thou delay'st me longer.  
I prithee let me hedge one moment more  
Into thy promise; for thy life preserved:  
Be kind: and tell me how that rival died,  
Whose Death next thine I wished.  Seb. 
If it would please thee thou shouldst never know:  
But thou, like Jealousy, enquir'st a truth,  
Which, found, will torture thee: He died in Fight:  
Fought next my person; as in Consort fought:  
Kept pace for pace, and blow for every blow;  
Save when he heaved his Shield in my defence;  
And on his naked side received my wound.  
Then, when he could no more, he fell at once:  
But rolled his falling body cross their way;  
And made a Bulwark of it for his Prince▪  Dor. 
I never can forgive him such a death!  Seb. 
I prophesied thy proud Soul could not bear it.  
Now, judge thyself, who best deserved my Love.  
I knew you both; (and durst I say) as Heaven  
Foreknew among the shining angel host  
Who would stand firm, who fall.  Dor. 
Had he been tempted so, so had he fallen;  
And so, had I been favoured, had I stood.  Seb. 
What had been is unknown; what is appears:  
Confess he justly was preferred to thee.  Dor. 
Had I been born with his indulgent Stars,  
My fortune had been his, and his been mine.  
O, worse than Hell! what Glory have I lost,  
And what has he acquired, by such a death!  
I should have fallen by Sebastian's side;  
My corpse had been the Bulwark of my King.  
His glorious end was a patched work of fate,  
Ill sorted with a soft effeminate life:  
It suited better with my life than his  
So to have died: mine had been of a piece,  
Spent in your service, dying at your feet.  Seb. 
The more effeminate and soft his life,  
The more his fame, to struggle to the field,  
And meet his glorious fate: Confess, proud Spirit,  
(For I will have it from thy very mouth)  
That better he deserved my love than thou.  Dor. 
O, whether would you drive me! I must grant,  
Yes I must grant, but with a swelling Soul,  
Henriquez had your Love with more desert:  
For you he fought, and died; I fought against you;  
Through all the mazes of the bloody field,  
Hunted your Sacred life; which that I missed  
Was the propitious error of my fate,  
Not of my Soul; my Soul's a Regicide.  Seb. 
Thou Mightst have given it a more gentle name:  
[more calmly.] Thou meanest to kill a Tyrant, not a King:  
Speak didst thou not, Alonzo?  Dor. 
Can I speak!  
Alas, I cannot answer to Alonzo:  
No, Dorax cannot answer to Alonzo:  
Alonzo was too kind a name for me.  
Then, when I fought and conquered with your arms,  
In that blessed Age I was the man you named:  
Till rage and pride debased me into Dorax;  
And lost like Lucifer, my name above.  Seb. 
Yet, twice this day I owed my life to Dorax.  Dor. 
I saved you but to kill you; there's my grief.  Seb. 
Nay, if thou canst be grieved, thou canst repent:  
Thou couldst not be a Villain, though thou wouldst:  
Thou ownest too much, in owning thou hast erred;  
And I too little, who provoked thy Crime.  Dor. 
O stop this headlong Torrent of your goodness:  
It comes too fast upon a feeble Soul,  
Half drowned in tears, before; spare my confusion:  
For pity spare, and say not, first, you erred.  
For yet I have not dared, through guilt and shame,  
[Falls at his feet] To throw myself beneath your royal feet.  
Now spurn this rebel, this proud Renegade:  
'Tis just you should, nor will I more complain.  Seb. 
Indeed thou shouldst not ask forgiveness first,  
taking him up. But thou preventst me still, in all that's noble.  
Yet I will raise thee up with better news:  
Thy Violante's heart was ever thine;  
Compelled to wed, because she was my Ward,  
Her Soul was absent when she gave her hand:  
Nor could my threats, or his pursuing Courtship,  
Effect the Consummation of his Love:  
So, still indulging tears, she pines for thee,  
A widow and a Maid.  Dor. 
Have I been cursing heaven while heaven blessed me!  
I shall run mad with ecstasy of joy:  
What, in one moment, to be reconciled  
To Heaven, and to my King, and to my Love!  
But pity is my Friend, and stops me short,  
For my unhappy rival: poor Henriquez!  Seb. 
Art thou so generous too, to pity him?  
Nay, than I was unjust to love him better.  
Embracing him. Here let me ever hold thee in my arms:  
And all our quarrels be but such as these,  
Who shall love best, and closest shall embrace:  
Be what Enriquez was; be my Alonzo.  Dor. 
What, my Alonzo said you? my Alonzo!  
Let my tears thank you; for I cannot speak:  
And if I could,  
Words were not made to vent such thoughts as mine.  Seb. 
Thou canst not speak, and I can ne'er be silent.  
Some Strange reverse of Fate must, sure attend  
This vast profusion, this extravagance  
Of Heaven, to bless me thus. 'Tis Gold so pure  
It cannot bear the Stamp, without allay.  
Be kind, ye Powers, and take but half away:  
With ease the gifts of Fortune I resign;  
But, let my Love, and Friend, be ever mine.  Exeunt   

ACT v The Scene is a Room of State.  Enter Dorax and Antonio. Dor. 
JOy is on every face, without a Cloud:  
As, in the Scene of opening paradise,  
The whole Creation danced at their new being:  
Pleased to be what they were; pleased with each other.  
Such Joy have I, both in myself, and Friends:  
And double Joy, that I have made 'em happy.  Antonio, 
Pleasure has been the business of my life;  
And every change of Fortune easy to me,  
Because I still was easy to myself.  
The loss of her I loved would touch me nearest;  
Yet, if I found her, I might love too much;  
And that's uneasy Pleasure.  Dor. 
If she be fated  
To be your Wife, your fate will find her for you:  
Predestinated ills are never lost.  Anton. 
I had forgot  
T'Enquire before, but long to be informed,  
How, poisoned and betrayed, and round beset,  
You could unwind yourself from all these dangers;  
And move so speedily to our relief!  Dor. 
The double poisons, after a short Combat,  
Expelled each other in their civil War,  
By nature's benefit: and roused my thoughts  
To Guard that life which now I found attacked.  
I summoned all my Officers in haste,  
On whose experienced Faith I might rely:  
All came; resolved to die in my defence,  
Save that one Villain who betrayed the Gate.  
Our diligence prevented the surprise  
We justly feared: so, Muley-Zeydan found us  
Drawn-up in Battle, to receive the charge  Ant. 
But how the Moors and Christian slaves were joined,  
You have not yet unfolded.  Dor. 
That remains.  
We knew their interest was the same with ours:  
And though I hated more than Death, Sebastian;  
I could not see him die by Vulgar hands:  
But prompted by my angel, or by his,  
Freed all the Slaves, and placed him next myself,  
Because I would not have his Person known,  
I need not tell the rest, th' event declares it.  Ant. 
Your Conquest came of course; their men were raw,  
And yours were disciplined: one doubt remains,  
Why you industriously concealed the King,  
Who, known, had added Courage to his Men?  Dor. 
I would not hazard civil broils, betwixt  
His Friends and mine: which might prevent our Combat:  
Yet had he fallen, I had dismissed his Troops;  
Or, if Victorious, ordered his escape.  
But I forgot a new increase of Joy,  
To feast him with surprise; I must about it:  
Expect my swift return. Exit Dorax.  Enter a Servant to Antonio. Seru. 
Here's a Lady at the door, that bids me tell you, she is come to make an end of the game, that was broken off betwixt you.  Ant. 
What manner of Woman is she? Does she not want two of the four Elements? has she any thing about her but air and fire?  Servant. 
Truly, she flies about the room, as if she had wings instead of legs; I believe she's just turning into a bird: a house-bird I warrant her: and so hasty to fly to you, that, rather than fail of entrance, she would come tumbling down the Chimney, like a Swallow.  Enter Morayma. Antonio running to her and Embracing her. 
Look if she be not here already: what, no denial it seems will serve your turn? why! thou little dun, is thy debt so pressing?  Mor. 
Little devil if you please: your lease is out, good Mr. Conjurer; and I am come to fetch you Soul and Body; not an hour of lewdness longer in this world for you.  Ant. 
Where the devil hast thou been? and how the devil didst thou find me here?  Mor. 
I followed you into the Castle yard: but there was nothing but Tumult, and Confusion: and I was bodily afraid of being picked up by some of the Rabble▪ considering I had a double charge about me,— my jewels & my maidenhead.  Ant. 
Both of 'em intended for my worship's sole use and Property.  Mor. 
And what was poor little I among 'em all?  Ant. 
Not a mouthful a piece: 'twas too much odds in Conscience.  Mor. 
So seeking for shelter, I naturally ran to the old place of Assignation, the Garden-house: where for want of instinct, you did not follow me.  Ant. 
Well for thy Comfort, I have secured thy Father; and I hope thou hast secured his effects for us.  Mor. 
Yes truly I had the prudent foresight to consider that when we grow old, and weary of Solacing one another, we might have, at least, wherewithal to make merry with the World; and take up with a worse pleasure of eating and drinking, when we were disabled for a better.  Ant. 
Thy fortune will be even too good for thee: for thou art going into the Country of Serenades, and Gallantries; where thy street will be haunted every Night, with thy foolish Lovers, and my Rivals; who will be sighing, and singing under thy inexorable windows, lamentable ditties, and call thee cruel, & Goddess, & Moon, and Stars, and all the poetical names of wicked rhyme: while thou and I, are minding our business, and jogging on, and laughing at 'em; at leisure-minuts, which will be very few, take that by way of threatening.  Mor. 
I am afraid you are not very valiant, that you huff so much before hand: but, they say, your Churches are fine places for Love-devotion: many a she-Saint is there worshipped.  Ant. 
Temples are there, as they are in all other Countries, good conveniences for dumb interviews: I hear the Protestants an't much reformed in that point neither; for their Sectaries call their Churches by the natural name of Meeting-houses. therefore I warn thee in good time, not more of devotion than needs must, good future spouse; and always in a veil; for those eyes of thine are damned enemies to mortification.  Mor. 
The best thing I have heard of Christendom, is that we women are allowed the privilege of having Souls; and I assure you, I shall make bold to bestow mine, upon some Lover, when ever you begin to go astray, and, if I find no Convenience in a Church, a private Chamber will serve the turn.  Ant. 
When that day comes, I must take my revenge and turn Gardener again: for I find I am much given to Planting.  Mor. 
But take heed, in the mean time, that some young Antonio does not spring-up in your own Family; as false as his Father, though of another man's planting.  Reenter Dorax with Sebastian and Almeyda. Sebastian enters speaking to Dorax, while in the mean time Antonio presents Morayma to Almeyda. Seb. 
How fares our royal prisoner, Muley Zeydan?  Dor. 
Disposed to grant whatever I desire,  
To gain a Crown, and Freedom: well I know him,  
Of easy temper, naturally good,  
And faithful to his word.  Seb. 
Yet one thing wants,  
To fill the measure of my happiness  
I'm still in pain for poor Alvarez's life.  Dor. 
Release that fear; the good old man is safe:  
I paid his ransom:  
And have already ordered his Attendance.  Seb. 
O bid him enter for I long to see him.  Enter Alvarez with a Servant, who departs when Alvarez is entered. Alvarez [falling down and embracing the King's knees.] 
Now by my Soul, and by these▪ hoary hairs,  
I'm so overwhelmed with pleasure, that I feel  
A latter spring within my withering limbs,  
That Shoots me out again.  Sebastian, raising him 
Thou good old Man!  
Thou hast deceived me into more, more joys;  
Who stood brimful before.  Alu. 
O my dear Child!  
I love thee so, I cannot call thee King,  
Whom I so oft have dandled in these arms!  
What, when I gave thee lost to find thee living!  
'Tis like a Father, who himself had scaped  
A falling house, and after anxious search,  
Hears from afar, his only Son within:  
And digs through rubbish, till he drags him out  
To see the friendly light.  
Such is my haste so trembling is my joy  
To draw thee forth from underneath thy Fate.  Seb. 
The Tempest is ore-blown; the skies are clear,  
And the Sea, charmed into a Calm so still,  
That not a wrinkle ruffles her smooth face.  Alu. 
Just such she shows before a rising storm:  
And therefore am I come, with timely speed,  
To warn you into Port.  Almeyda. 
My Soul forebodes aside.  
Some dire event involved in those dark words;  
And just disclosing, in a birth of fate.  Alu. 
Is there not yet an Heir of this vast Empire,  
Who still Survives, of Muley-Moluchs branch?  Dor. 
Yes such an one there is, a Captive here,  
And Brother to the Dead.  Alu. 
The Power's above  
Be praised for that: My prayers for my good Master  
I hope are heard.  Seb. 
Thou hast a right in heaven,  
But why these prayers for me?  Alu. 
A door is open yet for your deliverance,  
Now you my countrymen, and you Almeyda,  
Now all of us, and you (my all in one)  
May yet be happy in that Captives life.  Seb. 
We have him here an honourable Hostage  
For terms of peace: what more he can Contribute  
To make me blessed, I know not.  Alu. 
Vastly more:  
Almeyda may be settled in the Throne;  
And you review your Native Clime with fame:  
A firm Alliance, and eternal Peace,  
(The glorious Crown of honourable War,)  
Are all included in that Prince's life:  
Let this fair Queen be given to Muley-Zeydan;  
And make her love the Sanction of your League.  Seb. 
No more of that: his life's in my dispose;  
And prisoners are not to insist on terms.  
Or if they were, yet he demands not these.  Alu. 
You should exact 'em.  Alm. 
Better may be made;  
These cannot: I abhor the tyrant's race;  
My Parents murderers, my Throne's Usurpers.  
But, at one blow to cut off all dispute,  
Know this, thou busy, old, officious Man,  
I am a Christian; now be wise no more;  
Or if thou wouldst be still thought wise, be silent.  Alu. 
O! I perceive you think your interest touched:  
'Tis what before the battle I observed:  
But I must speak, and will.  Seb. 
I prithee peace;  
Perhaps she thinks they are too near of bloud·  Alu. 
I wish she may not wood to blood more near.  Seb. 
What if I make her mine?  Alu. 
Now heaven forbidden!  Seb. 
Wish rather Hea'vn may grant.  
For, if I could deserve, I have deserved her:  
My toils, my hazards, and my Subjects lives,  
(Provided she consent) may claim her love:  
And, that once granted, I appeal to these,  
If better, I could choose a beauteous Bride.  Ant. 
The fairest of her Sex.  Mor. 
The pride of Nature.  Dor. 
He only merits her; she only him.  
So paired, so suited in their minds and Persons,  
That they were framed the tallies for each other.  
If any Alien love had interposed  
It must have been an eyesore to beholders,  
And to themselves a Curse.  Alu. 
And to themselves.  
The greatest Curse that can be, were to join.  Seb. 
Did I not love thee, past a change to hate,  
That word had been thy ruin; but no more,  
I charge thee on thy life, perverse old man.  Alu. 
Know, Sir, I would be silent if I durst:  
But, if on Shipbord,, I should see my Friend,  
Grown frantic in a raging Calenture,  
And he, imagining vain flowery fields,  
Would headlong plunge himself into the deep,  
Should I not hold him from that mad attempt,  
Till his sick fancy were by reason cured?  Seb. 
I pardon thee th' effects of doting Age;  
Vain doubts, and idle cares, and over-caution;  
The second nonage of a Soul, more wise;  
But now decayed; and sunk into the Socket,  
Peeping by fits and giving feeble light.  Alu. 
Have you forgot?  Seb. 
Thou meanest my father's Will,  
In bar of Marriage to Almeyda's bed:  
Thou seest my faculties are still entire,  
Though thine are much impaired, I weighed that Will,  
And found 'twas grounded on our different Faiths;  
But, had he lived to see her happy change,  
He would have cancelled that harsh Interdict,  
And joined our hands himself.  Alu. 
Still had he lived and seen this change,  
He still had been the Same.  Seb. 
I have a dark remembrance of my Father;  
His reas'ning and his Actions both were just;  
And, granting that, he must have changed his measures.  Alu. 
Yes, he was just, and therefore could not change.  Seb. 
'Tis a base wrong thou offerest to the Dead.  Alu. 
Now heaven forbidden,  
That I should blast his pious Memory:  
No, I am tender of his holy Fame:  
For, dying he bequeathed it to my charge.  
Believe I am; and seek to know no more,  
But pay a blind obedience to his will.  
For to preserve his Fame I would be silent.  Seb. 
Crazed fool, who wouldst be thought an Oracle.  
Come down from off thy Tripos, and speak plain;  
My Father shall be justified, he shall:  
'Tis a Son's part to rise in his defence;  
And to confound thy malice, or thy dotage.  Alu. 
It does not grieve me that you hold me crazed;  
But, to be cleared at my dead master's cost,  
O there's the wound! but let me first adjure you,  
By all you own that dear departed Soul,  
No more to think of Marriage with Almeyda.  Seb. 
Not Hea'vn and Earth combined, can hinder it.  Alu. 
Then, witness Hea'vn and Earth, how loath I am  
To say, you must not, nay you cannot wed.  
And since not only a dead father's fame,  
But more a Lady's honour must be touched,  
Which nice as Ermines will not bear a Soil;  
Let all retire; that you alone may hear  
What even in whispers I would tell your ear.  All are going out. Alm. 
Not one of you depart; I charge you stay.  
And, were my voice a Trumpet loud as Fame,  
To reach the round of heaven, and Earth, and Sea,  
All Nations should be summoned to this place.  
So little do I fear that Fellows charge:  
So should my honour like a rising Swan,  
Brush with her wings, the falling drops away,  
And proudly plough the waves.  Seb. 
This noble Pride becomes thy Innocence:  
And I dare trust my father's memory,  
To stand the charge of that foul forging tongue:  Alu. 
It will be soon discovered if I forge:  
Have you not heard your Father in his youth,  
When newly married, travelled into Spain,  
And made a long abode in Phillip's Court?  Seb. 
Why so remote a question? which thyself  
Can answer to thyself, for thou wert with him,  
His favourite, as I oft have heard thee boast:  
And nearest to his Soul.  Alu. 
Too near indeed, forgive me Gracious Heaven  
That ever I should boast I was so near.  
The Confident of all his young Amours.  
[To Almeyda] And have not you, unhappy beauty, heard,  
Have you not often heard, your exiled Parents  
Were refuged in that Court, and at that time?  Alm. 
'Tis true: and often since, my Mother owned  
How kind that Prince was, to espouse her cause;  
She counselled, nay, enjoined me on her blessing  
To seek the Sanctuary of your Court:  
Which gave me first encouragement to come,  
And, with my Brother, beg Sebastian's aid.  Sebast. 
Thou helpest me well, to justify my War:  
to Alme. My dying Father swore me, than a Boy;  
And made me kiss the Cross upon his Sword,  
Never to sheathe it, till that exiled Queen  
Were by my Arms restored.  Alu. 
And can you find  
No mystery, couched in this excess of kindness?  
Were Kings e'er known, in this degenerate Age,  
So passionately fond of noble Acts,  
Where Interest shared not more than half with honour?  Seb. 
Base grovelling Soul, who knowst not honour's worth;  
But weighest it out in mercenary Scales;  
The Secret pleasure of a generous Act,  
Is the great minds great bribe.  Alu. 
Show me that King, and I'll believe the Phoenix.  
But knock at your own breast, and ask your Soul  
If those fair fatal eyes, edged not your Sword,  
More than your Fashers charge, and all your vows?  
If so; and so your silence grants it is,  
Know King, your Father had, like you, a Soul;  
And Love is your Inheritance from him.  
Almeyda's Mother too had eyes, like her,  
And not less charming, and were charmed no less  
Than yours are now with her, and her's with you.  Alm. 
Thou liest Impostor, perjured Fiend thou liest.  Seb. 
Was't not enough to brand my Father's fame,  
But thou must load a Lady's memory?  
O Infamous base, beyond repair.  
And, to what end this ill concerted lie,  
Which, palpable and gross, yet granted true,  
It bars not my Inviolable vows.  Alu. 
Take heed and double not your father's crimes;  
To his adultery, do not add your Incest.  
Know, she is the product of unlawful Love:  
And 'tis your carnal Sister you would wed.  Seb. 
Thou shalt not say thou wert condemned unheard.  
Else, by my Soul, this moment were thy last.  Alm. 
But think not Oaths shall justify thy charge;  
Nor Imprecations on thy cursed head,  
For who dares lie to Heaven, thinks Heaven a Jest.  
Thou hast confessed thyself the Conscious pander  
Of that pretended passion:  
A Single Witness, infamously known,  
Against two Persons of unquestioned fame;  Alu. 
What interest can I have, or what delight  
To blaze their shame, or to divulge my own?  
If proved you hate me▪ if unproved Condemn?  
Not Racks or Tortures could have forced this secret,  
But too much care, to save you from a Crime,  
Which would have sunk you both. For let me say,  
Almeyda's beauty well deserves your love:  Alm. 
Out, base Impostor, I abhor thy praise.  Dorax. 
It looks not like Imposture: but a truth,  
On utmost need revealed.  Sebast. 
Did I expect from Dorax, this return?  
Is this the love renewed?  Dorax. 
Sir, I am silent;  
Pray heaven my fears prove false.  Sebast. 
Away; you all combine to make me wretched.  Alu. 
But hear the story of that fatal Love;  
Where every Circumstance shall prove another;  
And truth so shine, by her own native light,  
That if a lie were mixed, it must be seen.  Sebast. 
No; all may still be forged, and of a piece.  
No; I can credit nothing thou canst say:  Alu. 
One proof remains; and that's your father's hand:  
Firmed with his Signet; both so fully known,  
That plainer Evidence can hardly be,  
Unless his Soul would want her Hea'vn a while,  
And come on Earth to swear.  Seb. 
Produce that Writing.  
Alvar. to Dorax Alonzo has it in his Custody.  
The same, which when his nobleness redeemed me,  
And in a friendly visit owned himself,  
For what he is, I then deposited:  
And had his Faith to give it to the King.  Dorax giving a sealed Paper to the King. 
Untouched, and sealed as when entrusted with me,  
Such I restore it, with a trembling hand,  
Lest ought within disturb your peace of Soul.  Sebast. tearing open the Seals. 
Draw near Almeyda: thou art most concerned.  
For I am most in Thee.  
Alonzo, mark the Characters:  
Thou knowst my father's hand observe it well:  
And if th'Impostors Pen, have made one slip,  
That shows it Counterfeit, mark that and save me.  Dorax. 
It looks, indeed, too like my master's hand:  
So does the Signet; more I cannot say;  
But wish 'twere not so like.  Sebast. 
Methinks it owns  
The black adultery, and Almeyda's birth;  
But such a mist of grief comes o'er my eyes,  
I cannot, or I would not read it plain.  Alm. 
heaven cannot be more true, than this is false.  Sebast. 
O couldst thou prove it, with the same assurance!  
Speak, hast thou ever seen my father's hand?  Alm. 
No; but my mother's honour has been read  
By me, and by the world, in all her Acts;  
In Characters more plain, and legible  
Then this dumb Evidence, this blotted lie.  
Oh that I were a man, as my Soul's one,  
To prove thee, traitor, an Assassinate  
Of her fair same: thus would I tear thee, thus—: (Tearing the Paper)  
And scatter, o'er the field, thy Coward limbs,  
Like this foul offspring of thy forging brain.  (Scattering the Paper) Alu. 
Just so, shalt thou be torn from all thy hopes.  
For know proud Woman, know in thy despite,  
The most authentic proof is still behind.  
Thou wear'st it on thy finger: 'tis that Ring,  
Which matched with that on his, shall clear the doubt.  
'Tis no dumb forgery: for that shall speak;  
And sound a rattling peal to either's Conscience:  Seb. 
This Ring indeed, my Father, with a cold  
And shaking hand, just in the pangs of Death,  
Put on my finger; with a parting sigh,  
And would have spoke; but faltered in his speech,  
With undistinguished sounds.  Alu. 
I know it well:  
For I was present: Now, Almeyda, speak:  
And, truly tell us, how you come by yours?  Alm. 
My Mother, when I parted from her sight,  
To go to Portugal bequeathed it to me,  
Presaging she should never see me more:  
She pulled it from her finger, shed some tears,  
Kissed it, and told me 'twas a pledge of Love;  
And hide a mystery of great Importance  
Relating to my Fortunes.  Alu. 
Mark me now,  
While I disclose that fatal mystery.  
Yhose rings, when you were born, and thought another's,  
Tour Parents, glowing yet in sinful love,  
Bid me bespeak: a Curious Artist wrought 'em:  
With joints so close, as not to be perceived;  
Yet are they both each others Counterpart.  
Her part had Juan inscribed, and his had Zayda.  
) You know those names are theirs:) and in the midst,  
A heart divided in two halves was placed.  
Now if the rivets of those Rings, enclosed,  
Fit not each other, I have forged this lie:  
But if they join, you must for ever part,  Sebastian, 
[Seb. pulling off his Ring. Alm. does the same, and gives it to alu. who unscrues both the Rings & fits one half to the other.] Now life, or death.  Alm. 
And either thine, or ours.  Alm. 
I'm lost for ever.— (swoons)  (The Women and Morayma, take her up and carry her off.) [Seb. here stands amazed without motion, his eyes fixed upward.] Seb. 
Look to the Queen my Wife; For I am passed  
All power of Aid, to her or to myself.  Alu. 
His Wife, said he, his Wife! O fatal sound!  
For, had I known it, this unwelcome news  
Had never reached their ears.  
So they had still been blessed in Ignorance,  
And I alone unhappy.  Dor. 
I knew it, but too late: and durst not speak.  Seb. starting out of his amazement. 

I will not live: no not a moment more;  
I will not add one moment more to Incest.  
I'll cut it off, and end a wretched being.   

For, should I live, my Soul's so little mine,  
And so much hers, that I should still enjoy.  
Ye cruel Powers  
Take me as you have made me, miserable;  
You cannot make me guilty; 'twas my fate  
And you made that, not i Draws his Sword.   Antonio and Alu. lay hold on him, and Dorax wrists the Sword out of his hand. An. 
For heavens sake hold, and recollect your mind.  Alvarez. 
Consider whom you punish, and for what;  
Yourself? unjustly: You have charged the fault,  
On heaven that best may bear it.  
Though Incest is indeed a deadly Crime,  
You are not guilty, since, unknown 'twas done,  
And known, had been abhorred.  Seb. 
By Heaven you're traitors, all, that hold my hands.  
If death be but cessation of our thought,  
Then let me die for I would think no more.  
I'll boast my Innocence above;  
And let 'em see a Soul they could not sully:  
I shall be there before my father's Ghost;  
That yet must languish long, in frosts and fires▪  
For making me unhappy by his Crime:  
[struggling again.] Stand off and let me take my fill of death;  
For I can hold my breath in your despite,  
And swell my heaving Soul out, when I please:  Alu. 
Heaven comfort you!  Seb. 
What art thou given comfort!  
Wouldst thou give comfort, who hast given despair?  
Thou seest Alonzo silent; he's a man.  
He knows, that men abandoned of their hopes  
Should ask no leave, nor stay for sueing out  
A tedious Writ of ease, from lingering Heaven,  
But help themselves, as timely as they could,  
And teach the fates their duty.  
[Dorax to alu. and Anto.] Let him go:  
He is our King; and he shall be obeyed:  Alu. 
What to destroy himself, O Parricide!  Dor. 
Be not Injurious in your foolish zeal,  
But leave him free; or by my sword I swear,  
To hue that Arm away, that stops the passage.  
To his Eternal rest.  Anto. 
[letting go his hold.] Let him be Guilty of his own death if he pleases: for I'll not be guilty of mine; by holding him.  The King shakes off Alvarez Alvarez. 
to Dorax▪ Infernal Fiend,  
Is this a Subjects part?  Dor. 
'Tis a friend's Office,  
He has convinced me that he ought to die.  
And, rather than he should not, here's my sword  
To help him on his Journey.  Seb. 
My last, my only Friend, how kind art thou  
And how Inhuman these!  Dor. 
To make the trifle death, a thing of moment!  Seb. 
And not to weigh th' Important cause I had,  
To rid myself of life?  Dor. 
True; for a Crime.  
So horrid in the face of Men and angels,  
As wilful Incest is!  Seb. 
Not wilful neither.  Dor. 
Yes, if you lived and with repeated Acts,  
Refreshed your Sin, and loaded crimes with crimes,  
To swell your scores of gild.  Seb. 
True; if I lived.  Dor. 
I said so, if you lived.  Seb. 
For hitherto ' was fatal ignorance:  
And no intended crime.  Dor, 
That you best know.  
But the Malicious World will judge the worst.  Alu. 
O what a Sophister has Hell procured,  
To argue for Damnation!  Dor. 
Peace, old Dotard.  
Mankind that always judge of Kings with malice,  
Will think he knew this Incest, and pursued it.  
His only way to rectify mistakes,  
And to redeem her honour, is to die.  Seb. 
Thou hast it right, my dear, my best Alonzo!  
And that, but petty reparation too;  
But all I have to give.  Dor. 
Your pardon, Sir;  
You may do more, and aught.  Seb. 
What, more than death?  Dor. 
Death? Why that's children's sport: a Stage-Play, Death.  
We Act it every Night we go to bed.  
Death to a Man in misery is sleep.  
Would you, who perpetrated such a Crime,  
As frightened nature, made the Saints above  
Shake heavens Eternal pavement with their trembling,  
To view that act, would you but barely die?  
But stretch your limbs, and turn on t'other side,  
To lengthen out a black voluptuous slumber,  
And dream you had your Sister in your arms.  Seb. 
To expiate this, can I do more than die?  Dor: 
O yes: you must do more; you must be damned:  
You must be damned to all Eternity.  
And, sure, self-Murder is the readiest way.  Seb. 
How, damned?  Dor. 
Why is that News?  Alvar, 
O, horror! Horror!  Dor. 
What, thou a Statesman,  
And make a business of Damnation?  
In such a World as this, why 'tis a trade.  
The scrivener, Usurer, Lawyer, shopkeeper,  
And Soldier, cannot live, but by damnation.  
The politician does it by advance:  
And gives all gone beforehand.  Seb. 
O thou hast given me such a glimpse of Hell,  
So pushed me forward, even to the brink,  
Of that irremeable burning gulf,  
That looking in th' Abyss; I dare not leap.  
And now I see what good thou meanest my Soul,  
And thank thy pious fraud: Thou hast indeed,  
Appeared a devil, but didst an angel's work.  Dor. 
'Twas the last Remedy, to give you leisure.  
For, if you could but think, I knew you safe.  Seb. 
I thank thee, my Alonzo: I will live:  
But never more to Portugal return:  
For, to go back and reign, that were to show  
Triumphant Incest, and pollute the Throne.  Alu. 
Since Ignorance—  Seb. 
O, palliate not my wound:  
When you have argued all you can, 'tis Incest:  
No, 'tis resolved, I charge you plead no more;  
I cannot live without Almeyda's sight,  
Nor can I see Almeyda but I sin.  
Hea'vn has inspired me with a Sacred thought,  
To live alone to Hea'vn: and die to her.  Dorax. 
Mean you to turn an Anchoret?  Seb. 
What else?  
The world was once too narrow for my mind,  
But one poor little nook will serve me now;  
To hid me from the rest of humane kind.  
Africa has deserts wide enough to hold  
Millions of Monsters, and I am, sure, the greatest.  Alu. 
You may repent, and wish your Crown too late.  Seb. 
O never, never: I am passed a Boy,  
A sceptre's but a play thing, and a Globe  
A bigger bounding Stone. He who can leave  
Almeyda, may renounce the rest with ease.  Dorax. 
O Truly great!  
A Soul fixed high, and capable of heaven.  
Old as he is your Uncle Cardinal,  
Is not so far enamoured of a cloister,  
But he will thank you, for the Crown you leave him.  Sebastian, 
To please him more, let him believe me dead:  
That he may never dream I may return.  
Alonzo, I am now no more thy King,  
But still thy Friend, and by that holy Name,  
Adjure thee, to perform my last request.  
Make our Conditions with you Captive King,  
Secure me but my Solitary Cell;  
'Tis all I ask him for a Crown restored.  Dor. 
I will do more:  
But fear not Muley-Zeydan; his soft mettle  
Melts down with easy warmth; runs in the mould,  
And needs no farther forge.  Exit Dorax. Re-enter Almeyda, led by Morayma, and followed by her Attendants. Seb. 
See where she comes again  
By heaven when I behold those beauteous eyes,  
Repentance laggs and Sin comes hurrying on.  Alm. 
This is too cruel!  Seb. 
Speakest thou of Love, of Fortune, or of Death,  
Or double Death, for we must part Almeyda.  Alm. 
I speak of all.  
For all things that belong to us are cruel.  
But what's most cruel, we must love no more.  
O'tis too much that I must never see you,  
But not to love you is impossible:  
No, I must love you: heaven may bare me that,  
And charge that sinful Sympathy of Souls▪  
Upon our Parents, when they loved too well▪  Seb. 
Good heaven, thou speak'st my thoughts, and I speak thine.  
Nay then there's Incest in our very Souls,  
For we were formed too like.  Alm. 
Too like indeed,  
And yet not for each other.  
Sure when we part (for I resolved it too  
Tho' you proposed it first,) however distant,  
We shall be ever thinking of each other▪  
And, the same moment, for each other pray  Seb. 
But if a wish should come a thwart our prayers!  Alm. 
It would do well to curb it: if we could  Seb. 
We cannot look upon each others face,  
But, when we read our love, we read our guilt,  
And yet methinks I cannot choose but love;  Alm, 
I would have asked you, if I durst for shame,  
If still you loved? you gave it Air before me  
Ah why were we not born both of a Sex:  
For than we might have loved, without Crime▪  
Why was not I your Brother? though that wish  
Involved our parent's guilt, we had not parted;  
We had been Friends, and Friendship is not Incest.  Seb. 
Alas, I know not by what name to call thee!  
Sister and Wife are the two dearest Names;  
And I would call thee both; and both are Sin.  
Unhappy we! that still we must confound  
The dearest Names, into a common Curse.  Alm. 
To love, and be beloved, and yet be wretched!  Seb. 
To have but one poor night of all our lives;  
It was indeed a glorious; guilty night:  
So happy, that, forgive me Hea'vn, I wish  
With all its guilt, it were to come again.  
Why did we know so soon, or why at all,  
That Sin could be concealed in such a bliss?  Alm. 
Men have a larger privilege of words,  
Else I should speak: but we must part, Sebastian,  
That's all the name that I have left to call thee.  
I must not call thee by the name I would;  
But when I say Sebastian, dear Sebastian,  
I kiss the name I speak.  Seb. 
We must make haste, or we shall never part.  
I would say something that's as dear as this;  
Nay, would do more than say: one moment longer,  
And I should break through Laws Divine, and Humane;  
And think 'em Cobwebs, spread for little man,  
Which all the bulky herd of nature breaks.  
The vigorous young world, was ignorant  
Of these restrictions, 'tis decrepit now;  
Not more devout, but more decayed, and cold.  
All this is impious; therefore we must part:  
For, gazing thus, I kindle at thy sight,  
And, once burned down to tinder, light again  
Much sooner than before.  Reenter Dorax. Alm. 
Here comes the sad denouncer of my fate,  
To toul the mournful knell of separation:  
While I, as on my deathbed, hear the sound,  
That warns me hence for ever.  
Sebastian to Dorax. Now be brief,  
And I will try to listen.  
And share the minute that remains, betwixt  
The care I own my Subjects and my Love.  Dorax. 
Your fate has gratified you all she can;  
Gives easy misery, and makes Exile pleasing.  
I trusted Muley Zeydan, as a friend,  
But swore him first to secrecy: he wept  
Your fortune, and with tears, not squeezed by Art,  
But shed from nature, like a kindly shower:  
In short, he proffered more than I demanded;  
A safe retreat, a gentle Solitude,  
Unvexed with noise, and undisturbed with fears:  
I chose you one.—  Alm. 
O do not tell me where:  
For if I knew the place of his abode,  
I should be tempted to pursue his steps,  
And then we both were lost.  Seb. 
even past redemption.  
For, if I knew thou wert on that design,  
(As I must know, because our Souls are one,)  
I should not wander but by sure Instinct,  
Should meet thee just halfway, in pilgrimage  
And close for ever: for I know my love  
More strong than thine, and I more frail than thou.  Alm. 
Tell me not that: for I must boast my Crime,  
And cannot bear that thou shouldst better love.  Dorax. 
I may inform you both: for you must go,  
Where Seas, and winds, and deserts will divide you.  
Under the ledge of Atlas, lies a Cave,  
Cut in the living Rock, by nature's hands:  
The Venerable Seat of holy hermit's.  
Who there, secure in separated Cells,  
Sacred even to the Moors, enjoy Devotion:  
And from the purling Streams and savage fruits,  
Have wholesome bev'rage, and unbloudy feasts.  Seb. 
'Tis penance too Voluptuous, for my Crime.  Dor. 
Your Subjects, conscious of your life are few:  
But all desirous to partake your Exile:  
And to do office to your Sacred Person.  
The rest who think you dead, shall be dismissed,  
Under safe Convoy till they reach your Fleet.  Alm. 
But how am wretched I to be disposed?  
A vain Enquiry, since I leave my Lord:  
For all the world beside is Banishment!  Dor. 
I have a Sister, abbess in terceras,  
Who lost her Lover on her bridal day.—  Alm. 
There, fate provided me a fellow-Turtle;  
To mingle sighs with sighs, and tears with tears.  Dor. 
Last, for myself, if I have well fulfilled  
My sad Commission, let me beg the boon,  
To share the sorrows of your last recess:  
And mourn the Common losses of our loves.  Alu. 
And what becomes of me? must I be lest,  
(As Age and time had worn me out of use?)  
These Sinews are not yet so much unstrung,  
To fail me when my Master should be served:  
And when they are, then will I steal to death:  
Silent, and unobserved, to save his tears.  Seb. 
I've heard you both: Alvarez have thy wish.  
But thine Alonzo, thine, is too unjust.  
I charge thee with my last Commands, return,  
And bless thy Violante with thy vows.  
Antonio, be thou happy too, in thine.  
Last, let me swear you all to secrecy;  
And to conceal my shame conceal my life.  Dor. Ant, Mor. 
We swear to keep it secret.  Alm. 
Now I would speak the last farewell, I cannot.  
It would be still farewell, a thousand times:  
And, multiplied in echoes, still farewell.  
I will not speak; but think a thousand thousand;  
And be thou silent too, my last Sebastian;  
So let us part in the dumb pomp of grief.  
My heart's too great; or I would die this moment:  
But Death I thank him, in an hour, has made  
A mighty journey, and I hast to meet him.  (She staggers and her Women hold her up) Seb. 
Help to support this feeble, drooping flower:  
‛ This tender Sweet, so shaken by the storm.  
For these fond arms must, thus be stretched in vain,  
And never, never must embrace her more.  
'tis past:— my Souls goes in that word;— farewell.  Alvarez goes with Sebastian to one end of the Stage. Women with Almeyda to the other. Dorax, coming up to Antonio and Morayma, who stand on the Middle of the Stage. Dor 
Hast to attend Almeyda: for your sake  
Your Father is forgiven: but to Antonio  
He forfeits half his Wealth: be happy both:  
And let Sebastian and Almeyda's Fate,  
This dreadful Sentence to the World relate,  
That unrepented Crimes of Parents dead,  
Are justly punished on their children's head.   
FINIS.   

PROLOGUE.  Se●t to the author by an unknown hand, and proposed to be spoken By Mrs. Monford dressed like an Officer. 

BRight Beauties who in awful Circle sit,  
And you grave Synod of the dreadful Pit,  
And you the Vpper-tire of pop-gun wit.   

Pray ease me of my wonder if you may  
Is all this Crowd barely to see the play,  
Or is't the poet's Execution day?   

His breath is in your hands I will presume  
But I advise you to defer his doom:  
Till you have got a better in his room.   

And done't maliciously combine together,  
As if in spite and spleen you were come hither,  
For he has kept the Pen tho' lost the feather.   

And on my Honour Ladies I avow,  
This Play was writ in Charity to you,  
For such a dearth of Wit whoever know?   

Sure 'tis a judgement on this sinful Nation  
For the abuse of so great Dispensation,  
And therefore I resolved to change Vocation.   

For want of petticoat I've put on buff▪  
To try what may be got by lying rough:  
How think you Sirs, is it not well enough?   

Of Bully critiches I a Troup would lead;  
But one replied, thank you there's no such need,  
●at groomporters Sir can safer bleed.   

Another who the name of danger loathes,  
vow'd he would go, and swore me Forty Oaths,  
But that his Horses were in body-cloaths.   

A third cried, Dammy blood, I'd be content  
To push my Fortune, of the Parliament  
Would but recall Claret from Banishment.   

A Fourth (and I have done) made this excuse  
I'd draw my Sword in Ireland Sir to choose:  
Had not their Women gouty legs and wore no shoes?   

Well, I may march thought I and fight and trudge,  
But of these blades the devil a man will budge,  
They there would fight e'en just as here they judge.   

Here they will pay for leave to find a faule,  
But when their Honour calls they can't be bought,  
Honour in danger, blood and wounds is sought.   

Lost Virtue whether fled, or where's thy dwelling,  
Who can reveal, at lest 'tis past my telling,  
Unless thou art embarked for Iniskelling.   

On Carrion tits those Sparks denounce their rage  
In boot of wisp and Leinster frieze engage,  
What would you do in such an Equipage?   

The Siege of Derry does you Gallant threaten:  
Not out of errand shame of being beaten,  
As fear of wanting meat or being eaten.   

Were Wit like honour to be won by fight  
How few just Judges would there be of writing,  
Than you would leave this villainous backbiting   

Your Talents lie how to express your spite,  
But where is he knows how to praise aright,  
You praise like Cowards but like critics fight.   

Ladies be wise, and wean these yearling Calves  
Who in your Service too are mere faux-braves,  
They Judge and write and fight, and— Love by halves.    

EPILOGUE. TO Don Sebastian, King of Portugal.  Spoken betwixt Antonio and Morayma. Mor. 
I quaked at heart for fear the Royal Fashion  
Should have seduced us two to Separation:  
To be drawn in, against our own desire,  
Poor I to be a Nun, poor You a friar.  Ant. 
I trembled when the Old man's hand was in,  
He would have proved we were too near of kin:  
Discovering old Intrigues of Love, like t'other,  
Betwixt my Father and thy sinful Mother;  
To make us Sister Turk and Christian Brother.  Mor. 
Excuse me there; that League should have been rather  
Betwixt your Mother and my Mufti-Father;  
'Tis for my own and my Relations Credit  
Your Friends should bear the Bastard, mine should get it.  Ant. 
Suppose us two Almeyda and Sebastian  
With Incest proved upon us:—  Mor. 
Without question  
Their Conscience was too queasy of digestion.  Ant. 
Thou wouldst have kept the council of thy Brother  
And sinned till we repent of each other.  Mor. 
Beast as you are on nature's Laws to trample;  
'Twere fit that we followed their Example  
And since all Marriage in Repentance ends,  
'Tis good for us to part while we are Friends,  
To save a maid's remorses and Confusions  
Even leave me now before We try Conclusions.  Ant. 
To copy their Example first make certain  
Of one good hour like theirs before our parting;  
Make a debauch o'er Night of Love and Madness;  
And marry when we wake in sober sadness.  Mor. 
I'll follow no new Sects of your inventing,  
One Night might cost me nine long months repenting:  
First wed, and if you find that life a fetter,  
die when you please, the sooner Sir the better:  
My wealth would get me love ere I could ask it:  
Oh there's a strange Temptation in the Casket:  
All these Young Sharpers would my grace importune,  
And make me thundering Votes of lives and fortune.