John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Enter ORBELLAN, holding his face aside.

  You hide your face, as you were still afraid:

  Dare you not look on him, who gave you aid?

  Orb. Moon, slip behind some cloud, some tempest, rise, And blow out all the stars that light the skies, To shrowd my shame!

  Cort. In vain you turn aside, And hide your face; your name you cannot hide: I know my rival and his black design.

  Orb. Forgive it, as my passion’s fault, not mine.

  Cort. In your excuse your love does little say; You might, howe’er, have took a fairer way.

  Orb. ’Tis true, my passion small defence can make; Yet you must spare me for your honour’s sake, That was engaged to set me safe and free.

  Cort. ’Twas to a stranger, not an enemy:

  Nor is it prudence to prolong thy breath,

  When all my hopes depend upon thy death;

  Yet none shall tax me with base perjury:

  Something I’ll do, both for myself and thee;

  With vowed revenge my soldiers search each tent,

  If thou art seen, none can thy death prevent;

  Follow my steps with silence and with haste.

  SCENE III.

  They go out, the Scene changes to the Indian Country, they return.

  Cort. Now you are safe, you have my outguards past.

  Orb. Then here I take my leave.

  Cort. Orbellan, no; When you return, you to Cydaria go: I’ll send a message.

  Orb. Let it be exprest; I am in haste.

  Cort. I’ll write it in your breast.

  [Draws.

  Orb. What means my rival?

  Cort. Either fight or die,

  I’ll not strain honour to a point too high;

  I saved your life, and keep it if you can,

  Cydaria shall be for the bravest man;

  On equal terms you shall your fortune try,

  Take this, and lay your flint-edged weapon by;

  [Gives him a sword.

  I’ll arm you for my glory, and pursue

  No palm, but what’s to manly virtue due.

  Fame, with my conquest, shall my courage tell.

  This you shall gain, by placing love so well.

  Orb. Fighting with you, ungrateful I appear.

  Cort. Under that shadow, thou would’st hide thy fear: Thou would’st possess thy love at thy return, And in her arms my easy virtue scorn.

  Orb. Since we must fight, no longer let’s delay; The moon shines clear, and makes a paler day.

  [They fight, ORBELLAN is wounded in the hand, his sword falls out of it.

  Cort. To courage, even of foes, there’s pity due; It was not I, but fortune, vanquished you: [Throws his sword again. Thank me with that, and so dispute the prize, As if you fought before Cydaria’s eyes.

  Orb. I would not poorly such a gift requite; You gave me not this sword to yield, but fight: [He strives to hold it, but cannot. But see, where yours has forced its bloody way; My wounded hand my heart does ill obey.

  Cort. Unlucky honour, that controul’st my will?

  Why have I vanquished, since I must not kill?

  Fate sees thy life lodged in a brittle glass,

  And looks it through, but to it cannot pass.

  Orb. All I can do is frankly to confess, —

  I wish I could, but cannot, love her less:

  To swear I would resign her, were but vain,

  Love would recal that perjured breath again;

  And in my wretched case, ‘twill be more just,

  Not to have promised, than deceive your trust.

  Know, if I live once more to see the town,

  In bright Cydaria’s arms my love I’ll crown.

  Cort. In spite of that, I give thee liberty,

  And with thy person leave thy honour free;

  But to thy wishes move a speedy pace,

  Or death will soon o’ertake thee in the chase. —

  To arms, to arms; fate shows my love the way,

  I’ll force the city on thy nuptial day.

  [Exeunt severally.

  SCENE IV. — Mexico.

  Enter MONTEZUMA, ODMAR, GUYOMAR, ALMERIA.

  Mont. It moves my wonder, that in two days space, This early famine spreads so swift a pace.

  Odm. ’Tis, sir, the general cry; nor seems it strange,

  The face of plenty should so swiftly change:

  This city never felt a siege before,

  But from the lake received its daily store;

  Which now shut up, and millions crowded here,

  Famine will soon in multitudes appear.

  Mont. The more the number, still the greater shame.

  Alm. What if some one should seek immortal fame, By ending of the siege at one brave blow?

  Mont. That were too happy!

  Alm. Yet it may be so. What if the Spanish general should be slain?

  Guy. Just heavens I hope, does otherwise ordain.

  [Aside.

  Mont. If slain by treason, I lament his death.

  Enter ORBELLAN, and whispers his sister.

  Odm. Orbellan seems in haste, and out of breath.

  Mont. Orbellan, welcome; you are early here, A bridegroom’s haste does in your looks appear.

  [ALMERIA aside to her brother.

  Alm. Betrayed! no, ’twas thy cowardice and fear;

  He had not ‘scaped with life, had I been there:

  But since so ill you act a brave design,

  Keep close your shame; — fate makes the next turn mine.

  Enter ALIBECH and CYDARIA.

  Alib. O sir, if ever pity touched your breast,

  Let it be now to your own blood exprest:

  In tears your beauteous daughter drowns her sight,

  Silent as dews that fall in dead of night.

  Cyd. To your commands I strict obedience owe,

  And my last act of it I come to show:

  I want the heart to die before your eyes,

  But grief will finish that which fear denies.

  Alm. Your will should by your father’s precept move.

  Cyd. When he was young, he taught me truth in love.

  Alm. He found more love than he deserved, ’tis true,

  And that, it seems, is lucky too to you;

  Your father’s folly took a headstrong course,

  But I’ll rule yours, and teach you love by force.

  Enter Messenger.

  Mess. Arm, arm, O king! the enemy comes on, A sharp assault already is begun; Their murdering guns play fiercely on the walls.

  Odm. Now, rival, let us run where honour calls.

  Guy. I have discharged what gratitude did owe, And the brave Spaniard is again my foe.

  [Exeunt ODMAR and GUYOMAR.

  Mont. Our walls are high, and multitudes defend: Their vain attempt must in their ruin end; The nuptials with my presence shall be graced.

  Alib. At least but stay ‘till the assault be past.

  Alm. Sister, in vain you urge him to delay, The king has promised, and he shall obey.

  Enter second Messenger.

  Mess. From several parts the enemy’s repelled, One only quarter to the assault does yield.

  Enter third Messenger.

  Mess. Some foes are entered, but they are so few, They only death, not victory, pursue.

  Orb. Hark, hark, they shout! From virtue’s rules I do too meanly swerve, I, by my courage, will your love deserve.

  [Exit.

  Mont. Here, in the heart of all the town, I’ll stay; And timely succour, where it wants, convey.

  A noise within. Enter ORBELLAN, Indians driven in, CORTEZ after them, and one or two Spaniards.

  Cort. He’s found, he’s found! degenerate coward, stay: Night saved thee once, thou shalt not scape by day.

  [Kills ORBELLAN.

  Orb. O, I am killed —

  [Dies.

  Enter GUYOMAR and ODMAR.

  Guy. Yield, generous stranger, and preserve your life; Why chuse you death i
n this unequal strife?

  [He is beset.

  [ALMERIA and ALIBECH fall on ORBELLAN’S body.

  Cort. What nobler fate could any lover meet? I fall revenged, and at my mistress’ feet.

  [They fall on him, and bear him down, GUYOMAR takes his sword.

  Alib. He’s past recovery; my dear brother’s slain, Fate’s hand was in it, and my care is vain.

  Alm. In weak complaints you vainly waste your breath: They are not tears that can revenge his death. Despatch the villain strait.

  Cort. The villain’s dead.

  Alm. Give me a sword, and let me take his head.

  Mont. Though, madam, for your brother’s loss I grieve, Yet let me beg —

  Alm. His murderer may live?

  Cyd. ’Twas his misfortune, and the chance of war.

  Cort. It was my purpose, and I killed him fair: How could you so unjust and cruel prove, To call that chance, which was the act of love?

  Cyd. I called it any thing to save your life:

  Would he were living still, and I his wife!

  That wish was once my greatest misery:

  But ’tis a greater to behold you die.

  Alm. Either command his death upon the place, Or never more behold Almeria’s face.

  Guy. You by his valour once from death were freed: Can you forget so generous a deed?

  [To MONTEZUMA.

  Mont. How gratitude and love divide my breast!

  Both ways alike my soul is robbed of rest.

  But — let him die — Can I his sentence give?

  Ungrateful, must he die, by whom I live?

  But can I then Almeria’s tears deny?

  Should any live whom she commands to die?

  Guy. Approach who dares: He yielded on my word; And, as my prisoner, I restore his sword. [Gives his sword. His life concerns the safety of the state, And I’ll preserve it for a calm debate.

  Mont. Dar’st thou rebel, false and degenerate boy? That being, which I gave, I thus destroy.

  [Offers to kill him, ODMAR steps between.

  Odm. My brother’s blood I cannot see you spill,

  Since he prevents you but from doing ill.

  He is my rival, but his death would be

  For him too glorious, and too base for me.

  Guy. Thou shalt not conquer in this noble strife:

  Alas, I meant not to defend my life:

  Strike, sir, you never pierced a breast more true;

  ’Tis the last wound I e’er can take for you.

  You see I live but to dispute your will;

  Kill me, and then you may my prisoner kill.

  Cort. You shall not, generous youths, contend for me: It is enough that I your honour see: But that your duty may no blemish take, I will myself your father’s captive make: [Gives his sword to MONTEZUMA. When he dares strike, I am prepared to fall: The Spaniards will revenge their general.

  Cyd. Ah, you too hastily your life resign, You more would love it, if you valued mine!

  Cort. Despatch me quickly, I my death forgive;

  I shall grow tender else, and wish to live;

  Such an infectious face her sorrow wears,

  I can bear death, but not Cydaria’s tears.

  Alm. Make haste, make haste, they merit death all three:

  They for rebellion, and for murder he.

  See, see, my brother’s ghost hangs hovering there

  O’er his warm blood, that steams into the air;

  Revenge, revenge, it cries.

  Mont. And it shall have;

  But two days respite for his life I crave:

  If in that space you not more gentle prove,

  I’ll give a fatal proof how well I love.

  ‘Till when, you, Guyomar, your prisoner take;

  Bestow him in the castle on the lake:

  In that small time I shall the conquest gain

  Of these few sparks of virtue which remain;

  Then all, who shall my headlong passion see,

  Shall curse my crimes, and yet shall pity me.

  [Exeunt.

  ACT IV.

  SCENE I. — A prison.

  Enter ALMERIA and an Indian; they speak entering.

  Ind. A dangerous proof of my respect I show.

  Alm. Fear not, Prince Guyomar shall never know: While he is absent let us not delay; Remember ’tis the king thou dost obey.

  Ind. See where he sleeps.

  [CORTEZ appears chained and laid asleep.

  Alm. — Without, my coming wait; And, on thy life, secure the prison gate.

  [Exit Indian.

  [She plucks out a dagger, and approaches him.

  Spaniard, awake: thy fatal hour is come:

  Thou shalt not at such ease receive thy doom.

  Revenge is sure, though sometimes slowly paced:

  Awake, awake, or, sleeping, sleep thy last.

  Cort. Who names revenge?

  Alm. — Look up, and thou shalt see.

  Cort. I cannot fear so fair an enemy.

  Alm. No aid is nigh, nor canst thou make defence: Whence can thy courage come?

  Cort. — From innocence.

  Alm. From innocence? let that then take thy part.

  Still are thy looks assured — have at thy heart!

  [Holds up the dagger.

  I cannot kill thee; sure thou bear’st some charm,

  [Goes back.

  Or some divinity holds back my arm.

  Why do I thus delay to make him bleed?

  [Aside.

  Can I want courage for so brave a deed?

  I’ve shook it off; my soul is free from fear.

  [Comes again.

  And I can now strike any where — but here:

  His scorn of death, how strangely does it move!

  A mind so haughty who could chuse but love!

  [Goes off.

  Plead not a charm, or any god’s command,

  Alas, it is thy heart that holds thy hand:

  In spite of me I love, and see, too late,

  My mother’s pride must find my mother’s fate.

  — Thy country’s foe, thy brother’s murderer, —

  For shame, Almeria, such mad thoughts forbear:

  It w’onnot be, — if I once more come on,

  [Coming on again.

  I shall mistake the breast, and pierce my own.

  [Comes with her dagger down.

  Cort. Does your revenge maliciously forbear To give me death, ‘till ’tis prepared by fear? If you delay for that, forbear or strike, Foreseen and sudden death are both alike.

  Alm. To show my love would but increase his pride:

  They have most power, who most their passions hide.

  [Aside.

  Spaniard, I must confess, I did expect

  You could not meet your death with such neglect;

  I will defer it now, and give you time:

  You may repent, and I forget your crime.

  Cort. Those, who repent, acknowledge they do ill: I did not unprovoked your brother kill.

  Alm. Petition me, perhaps I may forgive.

  Cort. Who begs his life does not deserve to live.

  Alm. But if ’tis given, you’ll not refuse to take?

  Cort. I can live gladly for Cydaria’s sake.

  Alm. Does she so wholly then possess your mind?

  What if you should another lady find,

  Equal to her in birth, and far above

  In all that can attract, or keep your love,

  Would you so doat upon your first desire,

  As not to entertain a nobler fire?

  Cort. I think that person hardly will be found,

  With gracious form and equal virtue crowned:

  Yet if another could precedence claim,

  My fixed desires could find no fairer aim.

  Alm. Dull ignorance! he cannot yet conceive:

  To speak more plain, shame will not give me leave.

  [Aside.

  — Suppose one loved you
, whom even kings adore:

  [To him.

  Who, with your life, your freedom would restore,

  And add to that the crown of Mexico:

  Would you, for her, Cydaria’s love forego?

  Cort. Though she could offer all you can invent,

  I could not of my faith, once vowed, repent.

  Alm. A burning blush has covered all my face;

  Why am I forced to publish my disgrace?

  What if I love? you know it cannot be,

  And yet I blush to put the case— ‘twere me.

  If I could love you with a flame so true,

  I could forget what hand my brother slew —

  — Make out the rest — I am disordered so,

  I know not farther what to say or do:

  — But answer me to what you think I meant.

  Cort. Reason or wit no answer can invent: Of words confused who can the meaning find?

  Alm. Disordered words show a distempered mind.

  Cort. She has obliged me so, that could I chuse, I would not answer what I must refuse. [Aside.

  Alm. His mind is shook — suppose I loved you, speak, Would you for me Cydaria’s fetters break?

  Cort. Things, meant in jest, no serious answer need.

  Alm. But, put the case that it were so indeed.

  Cort. If it were so, — which but to think were pride, —

  My constant love would dangerously be tried:

  For since you could a brother’s death forgive,

  He, whom you save, for you alone should live:

  But I, the most unhappy of mankind,

  Ere I knew yours, have all my love resigned:

  ’Tis my own loss I grieve, who have no more:

  You go a-begging to a bankrupt’s door.

  Yet could I change, as sure I never can,

  How could you love so infamous a man?

  For love, once given from her, and placed in you,

  Would leave no ground I ever could be true.

  Alm. You construed me aright — I was in jest:

  And, by that offer, meant to sound your breast;

  Which since I find so constant to your love,

  Will much my value of your worth improve.

  Spaniard, assure yourself you shall not be

  Obliged to quit Cydaria for me:

  ’Tis dangerous though to treat me in this sort,

  And to refuse my offers, though in sport. [Exit.

  Cort. In what a strange condition am I left?

  More than I wish I have, of all I wish bereft!

  In wishing nothing, we enjoy still most;