John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  The confidence of this rash enterprise?

  Mont. First tell me, how you dared to force from me The fairest spoils of my own victory?

  Zemp. Kill him — hold, must he die? — why, let him die; —

  Whence should proceed this strange diversity.

  In my resolves?

  Does he command in chains? What would he do,

  Proud slave, if he were free, and I were so?

  But is he bound, ye gods, or am I free?

  ’Tis love, ’tis love, that thus disorders me.

  How pride and love tear my divided soul!

  For each too narrow, yet both claim it whole:

  Love, as the younger, must be forced away. —

  Hence with the captives, general, and convey

  To several prisons that young man, and this

  Peruvian woman.

  Trax. How concerned she is! I must know more.

  Mont. Fair princess, why should I

  Involve that sweetness in my destiny?

  I could out-brave my death, were I alone

  To suffer, but my fate must pull yours on.

  My breast is armed against all sense of fear;

  But where your image lies, ’tis tender there.

  Inca. Forbear thy saucy love, she cannot be So low, but still she is too high for thee.

  Zemp. Be gone, and do as I command; away!

  Mont. I ne’er was truly wretched till this day.

  Oraz. Think half your sorrows on Orazia fall, And be not so unkind to suffer all: Patience, in cowards, is tame hopeless fear, But, in brave minds, a scorn of what they bear. [Exit Inca, MONTEZUMA, ORAZIA, and TRAXALLA.

  Zemp. What grief is this which in your face appears?

  Aca. The badge of sorrow, which my soul still wears.

  Zemp. Though thy late actions did my anger move,

  It cannot rob thee of a mother’s love.

  Why shouldst thou grieve?

  Grief seldom joined with blooming youth is seen;

  Can sorrow be where knowledge scarce has been?

  Fortune does well for heedless youth provide,

  But wisdom does unlucky age misguide;

  Cares are the train of present power and state,

  But hope lives best that on himself does wait:

  O happiest fortune if well understood,

  The certain prospect of a future good!

  Aca. What joy can empire bring me, when I know That all my greatness to your crimes I owe:

  Zemp. Yours be the joy, be mine the punishment.

  Aca. In vain, alas, that wish to Heaven is sent For me, if fair Orazia must not live.

  Zemp. Why should you ask me what I cannot

  give?

  She must be sacrificed: Can I bestow

  What to the gods, by former vows, I owe?

  Aca. O plead not vows; I wish you had not shown

  You slighted all things sacred for a throne.

  Zemp. I love thee so, that, though fear follows still,

  And horror urges, all that have been ill,

  I could for thee

  Act o’er my crimes again; and not repent,

  Even when I bore the shame and punishment.

  Aca. Could you so many ill acts undertake, And not perform one good one for my sake?

  Zemp. Prudence permits not pity should be shown To those, that raised the war to shake my throne.

  Aca. As you are wise, permit me to be just;

  What prudence will not venture, honour must;

  We owe our conquest to the stranger’s sword,

  Tis just his prisoners be to him restored.

  I love Orazia; but a nobler way,

  Than for my love my honour to betray.

  Zemp. Honour is but an itch of youthful blood,

  Of doing acts extravagantly good;

  We call that virtue, which is only heat

  That reigns in youth, till age finds out the cheat.

  Aca. Great actions first did her affections move, And I, by greater, would regain her love.

  Zemp. Urge not a suit which I must still deny; Orazia and her father both shall die: Begone, I’ll hear no more.

  Aca. You stop your ears —

  But though a mother will not, Heaven will hear;

  Like you I vow, when to the powers divine

  You pay her guiltless blood, I’ll offer mine. [Exit.

  Zemp. She dies, this happy rival, that enjoys

  The stranger’s love, and all my hopes destroys;

  Had she triumphed, what could she more have done,

  Than robbed the mother, and enslaved the son?

  Nor will I, at the name of cruel, stay:

  Let dull successive monarchs mildly sway:

  Their conquering fathers did the laws forsake,

  And broke the old, ere they the new could make,

  I must pursue my love; yet love, enjoyed,

  Will, with esteem, that caused it first, grow less:

  But thirst and hunger fear not to be cloyed,

  And when they be, are cured by their excess.

  Enter TRAXALLA.

  Trax. Now I shall see, what thoughts her heart

  conceals;

  For that, which wisdom covers, love reveals. [Aside.

  Madam, the prisoners are disposed.

  Zemp. They are? And how fares our young blustering man of war? Does he support his chains with patience yet?

  Trax. He, and the princess, madam —

  Zemp. Are they met?

  Trax. No: but from whence is all this passion grown?

  Zemp. ’Twas a mistake.

  Trax. I find this rash unknown Is dangerous; and, if not timely slain, May plunge your empire in new wars again.

  Zemp. Thank ye; I shall consider.

  Trax. Is that all?

  The army doat on him, already call

  You cruel; and, for aught I know, they may

  By force unchain, and crown him in a day.

  Zemp. You say, I have already had their curse For his bad usage; should I use him worse?

  Trax. Yet once you feared his reputation might Obscure the prince’s in the people’s sight.

  Zemp. Time will inform us best what course to

  steer,

  But let us not our sacred vows defer:

  The Inca and his daughter both shall die.

  Trax. He suffers justly for the war; but why Should she share his sad fate? A poor pretence, That birth should make a crime of innocence.

  Zemp. Yet we destroy the poisonous viper’s young, Not for themselves, but those from whom they sprung.

  Trax. O no, they die not for their parents’ sake,

  But for the poisonous seed which they partake.

  Once more behold her, and then let her die,

  If in that face or person you can see

  But any place to fix a cruelty.

  The heavens have clouds, and spots are in the moon;

  But faultless beauty shines in her alone.

  Zemp. Beauty has wrought compassion in your mind!

  Trax. And you to valour are become as kind. To former services there’s something due, Yet be advised —

  Zemp. Yes, by myself, not you.

  Trax. Princes are sacred.

  Zemp. True, whilst they are free:

  But power once lost, farewell their sanctity:

  ’Tis power, to which the gods their worship owe,

  Which, uncontrouled, makes all things just below:

  Thou dost the plea of saucy rebels use;

  They will be judge of what their prince must chuse:

  Hard fate of monarchs, not allowed to know

  When safe, but as their subjects tell them so.

  Then princes but like public pageants move,

  And seem to sway, because they sit above. [Exit.

  Trax. She loves him; in one moment this new

  guest

  Has drove me out from this false woman’s breast;

  They, that would fetter love wit
h constancy,

  Make bonds to chain themselves, but leave him free

  With what impatience I her falsehood bear!

  Yet do myself that, which I blame in her;

  But interest in my own cause makes me see

  That act unjust in her, but just in me. [Exit.

  SCENE II.

  ISMERON asleep. — Enter ZEMPOALLA.

  Zemp. Ho, Ismeron, Ismeron!

  He stirs not; ha, in such a dismal cell

  Can gentle sleep with his soft blessings dwell?

  Must I feel tortures in a human breast,

  While beasts and monsters can enjoy their rest?

  What quiet they possess in sleep’s calm bliss!

  The lions cease to roar, the snakes to hiss,

  While I am kept awake,

  Only to entertain my miseries.

  Or if a slumber steal upon my eyes,

  Some horrid dream my labouring soul benumbs

  And brings fate to me sooner than it comes.

  Fears most oppress when sleep has seized upon

  The outward parts, and left the soul alone.

  What envied blessings these cursed things enjoy!

  Next to possess, ’tis pleasure to destroy.

  Ismeron! ho, Ismeron, Ismeron! [Stamps.

  Ism. Who’s that, that with so loud and fierce a call Disturbs my rest?

  Zemp. She, that has none at all, Nor ever must, unless thy powerful art Can charm the passions of a troubled heart.

  Ism. How can you have a discontented mind, To whom the gods have lately been so kind?

  Zemp. Their envious kindness how can I enjoy, When they give blessings, and the use destroy?

  Ism. Dread empress, tell the cause of all your grief; If art can help, be sure of quick relief.

  Zemp. I dreamed, before the altar that I led

  A mighty lion in a twisted thread;

  I shook to hold him in so slight a tie,

  Yet had not power to seek a remedy:

  When, in the midst of all my fears, a clove,

  With hovering wings, descended from above,

  Flew to the lion, and embraces spread,

  With wings, like clasping arms, about his head,

  Making that murmuring noise that cooing doves

  Use, in the soft expression of their loves;

  While I, fixed by my wonder, gazed to see

  So mild a creature with so fierce agree:

  At last the gentle dove turned from his head,

  And, pecking, tried to break the slender thread,

  Which instantly she severed, and released

  From that small bond the fierce and mighty beast,

  Who presently turned all his rage on me,

  And, with his freedom, brought my destiny.

  Ism. Dread empress, this strange vision you relate

  Is big with wonder, and too full of fate,

  Without the god’s assistance, to expound.

  In those low regions, where sad night hangs round

  The drowsy vaults, and where moist vapours steep

  The god’s dull brows, that sways the realm of sleep;

  There all the informing elements repair,

  Swift messengers of water, fire, and air,

  To give account of actions, whence they came,

  And how they govern every mortal frame;

  How, from their various mixture, or their strife,

  Are known the calms and tempests of our life:

  Thence souls, when sleep their bodies overcome,

  Have some imperfect knowledge of their doom.

  From those dark caves those powers shall strait appear;

  Be not afraid, whatever shapes they wear.

  Zemp. There’s nothing, thou canst raise, can make me start;

  A living form can only shake my heart.

  Ism. You twice ten hundred deities,

  To whom we daily sacrifice;

  You powers, that dwell with fate below,

  And see what men are doomed to do;

  Where elements in discord dwell;

  Thou god of sleep, arise and tell

  Great Zempoalla what strange fate

  Must on her dismal vision wait.

  Zemp. How slow these spirits are! Call, make them rise, Or they shall fast from flame and sacrifice.

  Ism. Great empress,

  Let not your rage offend what we adore,

  And vainly threaten, when we must implore.

  Sit silently, and attend —

  While my powerful charms I end.

  By the croaking of the toad,

  In their caves that make abode;

  Earthy Dun that pants for breath,

  With her swelled sides full of death;

  By the crested adders’ pride,

  That along the clifts do glide;

  By thy visage fierce and black;

  By the death’s-head on thy back;

  By the twisted serpents placed

  For a girdle round thy waist;

  By the hearts of gold that deck

  Thy breast, thy shoulders, and thy neck:

  From thy sleepy mansion rise,

  And open thy unwilling eyes,

  While bubbling springs their music keep,

  That use to lull thee in thy sleep.

  God of Dreams rises.

  God. Seek not to know what must not be revealed;

  Joys only flow where fate is most concealed:

  Too busy man would find his sorrows more,

  If future fortunes he should know before;

  For, by that knowledge of his destiny,

  He would not live at all, but always die.

  Enquire not, then, who shall from bonds be freed,

  Who ’tis shall wear a crown, and who shall bleed:

  All must submit to their appointed doom;

  Fate and misfortune will too quickly come:

  Let me no more with powerful charms be pressed;

  I am forbid by fate to tell the rest.

  [The god descends.

  Zemp. Stay, cozener, thou, that hat’st clear truth like light,

  And usest words dark as thy own dull night.

  You tyrant gods, do you refuse to free

  The soul, you gave, from its perplexity?

  Why should we in your mercies still believe,

  When you can never pity, though we grieve?

  For you have bound yourselves by harsh decrees;

  And those, not you, are now the deities.

  [Sits down sad.

  Ism. She droops under the weight of rage and care:

  You spirits, that inhabit in the air,

  With all your powerful charms of music, try

  To bring-her soul back to its harmony.

  SONG SUNG BY AERIAL SPIRITS.

  Poor mortals, that are clogged with earth below,

  Sink under love and care,

  While we, that dwell in air,

  Such heavy passions never know.

  Why then should mortals be

  Unwilling to be free

  From blood, that sullen cloud,

  Which shining souls does shroud?

  Then they’ll shew bright,

  And like us light,

  When leaving bodies with their care,

  They slide to us and air.

  Zemp. Death on these trifles! Cannot your art find

  Some means, to ease the passions of the mind?

  Or, if you cannot give a lover rest,

  Can you force love into a scornful breast?

  Ism. Tis reason only can make passions less;

  Art gives not new, but may the old increase;

  Nor can it alter love in any breast,

  That is with other flames before possessed.

  Zemp. If this be all your slighted arts can do, I’ll kindle other flames, since I must burn, And all their temples into ashes turn.

  Ism. Great queen —

  Zemp. If you would have this sentence staid,

  Summ
on their godheads quickly to your aid,

  And presently compose a charm, that may

  Love’s flames into the stranger’s breast convey,

  The captive stranger, he whose sword and eyes

  Wheree’er they strike, meet ready victories:

  Make him but burn for me, in flames like mine,

  Victims shall bleed, and feasted altars shine:

  If not —

  Down go your temples, and your gods shall see

  They have small use of their divinity. [Exeunt.

  ACT IV.

  SCENE I. — The scene opens, and discovers MONTEZUMA sleeping in prison.

  Enter TRAXALLA leading in ORAZIA.

  Trax. Now take your choice, and bid him live or die;

  To both shew pity, or shew cruelty:

  ’Tis you that must condemn, I’ll only act;

  Your sentence is more cruel than my fact.

  Oraz. You are most cruel, to disturb a mind,

  Which to approaching fate was so resigned.

  Trax. Reward my passion, and you’ll quickly prove

  There’s none dare sacrifice what I dare love.

  Next to thee, stranger; wake, and now resign

  The bold pretences of thy love to mine,

  Or in this fatal minute thou shalt find —

  Mont. Death, fool; in that thou may’st be just and kind:

  ’Twas I that loved Orazia, yet did raise

  The storm, in which she sinks: Why dost thou gaze,

  Or stay thy hand from giving that just stroke,

  Which, rather than prevent, I would provoke?

  When I am dead, Orazia may forgive;

  She never must, if I dare wish to live.

  Oraz. Hold, hold — O Montezuma, can you be

  So careless of yourself, but more of me?

  Though you have brought me to this misery,

  I blush to say I cannot see you die.

  Mont. Can my approaching fate such pity move? The gods and you at once forgive and love.

  Trax. Fond fool, thus to mis-spend that little breath

  I lent thee to prevent, not hasten, death:

  Let her thank you she was unfortunate,

  And you thank her for pulling on your fate;

  Prove to each other your own destinies. [Draws.

  Enter ZEMPOALLA hastily, and sets a dagger to ORAZIA’S breast.

  Zemp. Hold, hold, Traxalla, or Orazia dies. —

  O, is’t Orazia’s name that makes you stay?

  ’Tis her great power, not mine, that you obey.

  Inhuman wretch, dar’st thou the murderer be

  Of him, that is not yet condemned by me?

  Trax. The wretch, that gave you all the power you have,

  May venture sure to execute a slave;

  And quench a flame your fondness would have burn,

  Which may this city into ashes turn,