John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Love scorns all ties, but those that are his own.

  Chains, that are dragged, must needs uneasy prove,

  For there’s a godlike liberty in love.

  Nour. What’s love to you?

  The bloom of beauty other years demands,

  Nor will be gathered by such withered hands:

  You importune it with a false desire,

  Which sparkles out, and makes no solid fire.

  This impudence of age, whence can it spring?

  All you expect, and yet you nothing bring:

  Eager to ask, when you are past a grant;

  Nice in providing what you cannot want.

  Have conscience; give not her you love this pain;

  Solicit not yourself and her in vain:

  All other debts may compensation find;

  But love is strict, and will be paid in kind.

  Emp. Sure, of all ills, domestic are the worst;

  When most secure of blessings, we are curst.

  When we lay next us what we hold most dear,

  Like Hercules, envenomed shirts we wear,

  And cleaving mischiefs.

  Nour. What you merit, have;

  And share, at least, the miseries you gave.

  Your days I will alarm, I’ll haunt your nights.

  And, worse than age, disable your delights.

  May your sick fame still languish till it die,

  All offices of power neglected lie,

  And you grow cheap in every subject’s eye!

  Then, as the greatest curse that I can give,

  Unpitied be deposed, and, after, live![Going off.

  Emp. Stay, and now learn,

  How criminal soe’er we husbands are,

  ’Tis not for wives to push our crimes too far.

  Had you still mistress of your temper been,

  I had been modest, and not owned my sin.

  Your fury hardens me; and whate’er wrong

  You suffer, you have cancelled by your tongue.

  A guard there! — Seize her; she shall know this hour,

  What is a husband’s and a monarch’s power.[Guard seizes her.

  Enter Aureng-Zebe.

  Nour. I see for whom your charter you maintain;

  I must be fettered, and my son be slain,

  That Zelyma’s ambitious race may reign.

  Not so you promised, when my beauty drew

  All Asia’s vows; when, Persia left for you,

  The realm of Candahar for dower I brought;

  That long-contended prize for which you fought.

  Aur. The name of stepmother, your practised art,

  By which you have estranged my father’s heart,

  All you have done against me, or design,

  Shows your aversion, but begets not mine.

  Long may my father India’s empire guide,

  And may no breach your nuptial vows divide!

  Emp. Since love obliges not, I from this hour

  Assume the right of man’s despotic power;

  Man is by nature formed your sex’s head,

  And is himself the canon of his bed:

  In bands of iron fettered you shall be, —

  An easier yoke than what you put on me.

  Aur. Though much I fear my interest is not great,

  Let me your royal clemency intreat.[Kneeling.

  Secrets of marriage still are sacred held;

  Their sweet and bitter by the wise concealed.

  Errors of wives reflect on husbands still,

  And, when divulged, proclaim you’ve chosen ill;

  And the mysterious power of bed and throne

  Should always be maintained, but rarely shown.

  Emp. To so perverse a sex all grace is vain;

  It gives them courage to offend again:

  For with feigned tears they penitence pretend,

  Again are pardoned, and again offend;

  Fathom our pity when they seem to grieve,

  Only to try how far we can forgive;

  Till, launching out into a sea of strife,

  They scorn all pardon, and appear all wife.

  But be it as you please; for your loved sake,

  This last and fruitless trial I will make:

  In all requests your right of merit use;

  And know, there is but one I can refuse. [He signs to the Guards, and they remove from the Empress.

  Nour. You’ve done enough, for you designed my chains;

  The grace is vanished, but the affront remains.

  Nor is’t a grace, or for his merit done;

  You durst no farther, for you feared my son.

  This you have gained by the rough course you prove;

  I’m past repentance, and you past my love.[Exit.

  Emp. A spirit so untamed the world ne’er bore.

  Aur. And yet worse usage had incensed her more.

  But since by no obligement she is tied,

  You must betimes for your defence provide.

  I cannot idle in your danger stand,

  But beg once more I may your arms command:

  Two battles your auspicious cause has won;

  My sword can perfect what it has begun,

  And from your walls dislodge that haughty son.

  Emp. My son, your valour has this day been such,

  None can enough admire, or praise too much:

  But now, with reason, your success I doubt;

  Her faction’s strong within, his arms without.

  Aur. I left the city in a panic fright;

  Lions they are in council, lambs in fight.

  But my own troops, by Mirzah led, are near;

  I, by to-morrow’s dawn, expect them here:

  To favour them, I’ll sally out ere day,

  And through our slaughtered foes enlarge their way.

  Emp. Age has not yet

  So shrunk my sinews, or so chilled my veins,

  But conscious virtue in my breast remains:

  But had I now

  That strength, with which my boiling youth was fraught,

  When in the vale of Balasor I fought,

  And from Bengal their captive monarch brought;

  When elephant ‘gainst elephant did rear

  His trunk, and castles jostled in the air;

  My sword thy way to victory had shown,

  And owed the conquest to itself alone.

  Aur. Those fair ideas to my aid I’ll call,

  And emulate my great original;

  Or, if they fail, I will invoke, in arms,

  The power of love, and Indamora’s charms.

  Emp. I doubt the happy influence of your star;

  To invoke a captive’s name bodes ill in war.

  Aur. Sir, give me leave to say, whatever now

  The omen prove, it boded well to you.

  Your royal promise, when I went to fight,

  Obliged me to resign a victor’s right:

  Her liberty I fought for, and I won,

  And claim it, as your general, and your son.

  Emp. My ears still ring with noise; I’m vexed to death,

  Tongue-killed, and have not yet recovered breath;

  Nor will I be prescribed my time by you.

  First end the war, and then your claim renew;

  While to your conduct I my fortune trust,

  To keep this pledge of duty is but just.

  Aur. Some hidden cause your jealousy does move,

  Or you could ne’er suspect my loyal love.

  Emp. What love soever by an heir is shown,

  He waits but time to step into the throne;

  You’re neither justified, nor yet accused;

  Meanwhile, the prisoner with respect is used.

  Aur. I know the kindness of her guardian such,

  I need not fear too little, but too much.

  But, how, sir, how have you from virtue swerved?

  Or what so ill return have I deserved?

  You doubt
not me, nor have I spent my blood,

  To have my faith no better understood:

  Your soul’s above the baseness of distrust:

  Nothing but love could make you so unjust.

  Emp. You know your rival then; and know ’tis fit,

  The son should to the father’s claim submit.

  Aur. Sons may have rights which they can never quit.

  Yourself first made that title which I claim:

  First bade me love, and authorised my flame.

  Emp. The value of my gift I did not know:

  If I could give, I can resume it too.

  Aur. Recall your gift, for I your power confess.

  But first take back my life, a gift that’s less.

  Long life would now but a long burthen prove:

  You’re grown unkind, and I have lost your love.

  My grief lets unbecoming speeches fall:

  I should have died, and not complained at all.

  Emp. Witness, ye powers,

  How much I suffered, and how long I strove

  Against the assaults of this imperious love!

  I represented to myself the shame

  Of perjured faith, and violated fame;

  Your great deserts, how ill they were repaid;

  All arguments, in vain, I urged and weighed:

  For mighty love, who prudence does despise,

  For reason showed me Indamora’s eyes.

  What would you more? my crime I sadly view,

  Acknowledge, am ashamed, and yet pursue.

  Aur. Since you can love, and yet your error see,

  The same resistless power may plead for me.

  With no less ardour I my claim pursue:

  I love, and cannot yield her even to you.

  Emp. Your elder brothers, though o’ercome, have right:

  The youngest yet in arms prepared to fight.

  But, yielding her, I firmly have decreed,

  That you alone to empire shall succeed.

  Aur. To after-ages let me stand a shame,

  When I exchange for crowns my love or fame!

  You might have found a mercenary son,

  To profit of the battles he had won.

  Had I been such, what hindered me to take

  The crown? nor had the exchange been yours to make.

  While you are living, I no right pretend;

  Wear it, and let it where you please descend.

  But from my love, ’tis sacrilege to part:

  There, there’s my throne, in Indamora’s heart.

  Emp. ’Tis in her heart alone that you must reign:

  You’ll find her person difficult to gain.

  Give willingly what I can take by force:

  And know, obedience is your safest course.

  Aur. I’m taught, by honour’s precepts, to obey:

  Fear to obedience is a slavish way.

  If aught my want of duty could beget,

  You take the most prevailing means, to threat.

  Pardon your blood, that boils within my veins;

  It rises high, and menacing disdains.

  Even death’s become to me no dreadful name:

  I’ve often met him, and have made him tame:

  In fighting fields, where our acquaintance grew,

  I saw him, and contemned him first for you.

  Emp. Of formal duty make no more thy boast:

  Thou disobey’st where it concerns me most.

  Fool! with both hands thus to push back a crown,

  And headlong cast thyself from empire down!

  Though Nourmahal I hate, her son shall reign:

  Inglorious thou, by thy own fault, remain.

  Thy younger brother I’ll admit this hour:

  So mine shall be thy mistress, his thy power.[Exit.

  Aur. How vain is virtue, which directs our ways

  Through certain danger to uncertain praise!

  Barren, and airy name! thee fortune flies,

  With thy lean train, the pious and the wise.

  Heaven takes thee at thy word, without regard,

  And lets thee poorly be thy own reward.

  The world is made for the bold impious man,

  Who stops at nothing, seizes all he can.

  Justice to merit does weak aid afford;

  She trusts her balance, and neglects her sword.

  Virtue is nice to take what’s not her own;

  And, while she long consults, the prize is gone.

  To him Dianet.

  Dia. Forgive the bearer of unhappy news:

  Your altered father openly pursues

  Your ruin; and, to compass his intent,

  For violent Morat in haste has sent.

  The gates he ordered all to be unbarred,

  And from the market-place to draw the guard.

  Aur. How look the people in this turn of state?

  Dia. They mourn your ruin as their proper fate;

  Cursing the empress: For they think it done

  By her procurement, to advance her son.

  Him too, though awed, they scarcely can forbear:

  His pride they hate, his violence they fear.

  All bent to rise, would you appear their chief,

  Till your own troops come up to your relief.

  Aur. Ill treated, and forsaken, as I am,

  I’ll not betray the glory of my name:

  ’Tis not for me, who have preserved a state,

  To buy an empire at so base a rate.

  Dia. The points of honour poets may produce;

  Trappings of life, for ornament, not use:

  Honour, which only does the name advance,

  Is the mere raving madness of romance.

  Pleased with a word, you may sit tamely down;

  And see your younger brother force the crown.

  Aur. I know my fortune in extremes does lie;

  The sons of Indostan must reign, or die;

  That desperate hazard courage does create,

  As he plays frankly, who has least estate;

  And that the world the coward will despise,

  When life’s a blank, who pulls not for a prize.

  Dia. Of all your knowledge, this vain fruit you have,

  To walk with eyes broad open to your grave.

  Aur. From what I’ve said, conclude, without reply,

  I neither would usurp, nor tamely die.

  The attempt to fly, would guilt betray, or fear:

  Besides, ‘twere vain; the fort’s our prison here.

  Somewhat I have resolved.

  Morat, perhaps, has honour in his breast;

  And, in extremes, both counsels are the best.

  Like emp’ric remedies, they last are tried,

  And by the event condemned, or justified.

  Presence of mind, and courage in distress,

  Are more than armies, to procure success.[Exeunt.

  ACT III.

  SCENE I.

  Arimant, with a letter in his hand: Indamora.

  Arim. And I the messenger to him from you?

  Your empire you to tyranny pursue:

  You lay commands, both cruel and unjust,

  To serve my rival, and betray my trust.

  Ind. You first betrayed your trust, in loving me;

  And should not I my own advantage see?

  Serving my love, you may my friendship gain;

  You know the rest of your pretences vain.

  You must, my Arimant, you must be kind:

  ’Tis in your nature, and your noble mind.

  Arim. I’ll to the king, and straight my trust resign.

  Ind. His trust you may, but you shall never mine.

  Heaven made you love me for no other end,

  But to become my confidant and friend:

  As such, I keep no secret from your sight,

  And therefore make you judge how ill I write:

  Read it, and tell me freely then your mind;

  If ’tis indited, as I meant it
, kind.

  Arim. I ask not heaven my freedom to restore, [Reading.

  But only for your sake — I’ll read no more:

  And yet I must —

  Less for my own, than for your sorrow sad — [Reading.

  Another line, like this, would make me mad —

  Heaven! she goes on — yet more — and yet more kind![As reading.

  Each sentence is a dagger to my mind.

  See me this night — [Reading.

  Thank fortune, who did such a friend provide,

  For faithful Arimant shall be your guide.

  Not only to be made an instrument,

  But pre-engaged without my own consent!

  Ind. Unknown to engage you still augments my score,

  And gives you scope of meriting the more.

  Arim. The best of men

  Some interest in their actions must confess;

  None merit, but in hope they may possess.

  The fatal paper rather let me tear,

  Than, like Bellerophon, my own sentence bear.

  Ind. You may; but ‘twill not be your best advice:

  ‘Twill only give me pains of writing twice.

  You know you must obey me, soon or late:

  Why should you vainly struggle with your fate?

  Arim. I thank thee, heaven, thou hast been wondrous kind!

  Why am I thus to slavery designed,

  And yet am cheated with a freeborn mind?

  Or make thy orders with my reason suit,

  Or let me live by sense a glorious brute — [She frowns.

  You frown, and I obey with speed, before

  That dreadful sentence comes, See me no more:

  See me no more! that sound, methinks, I hear

  Like the last trumpet thundering in my ear.

  Enter Solyman.

  Solym. The princess Melesinda, bathed in tears,

  And tossed alternately with hopes and fears,

  If your affairs such leisure can afford,

  Would learn from you the fortunes of her lord.

  Arim. Tell her, that I some certainty may bring,

  I go this minute to attend the king.

  Ind. This lonely turtle I desire to see:

  Grief, though not cured, is eased by company.

  Arim. [To Solym.]

  Say, if she please, she hither may repair,

  And breathe the freshness of the open air.[Exit Solym.

  Ind. Poor princess! how I pity her estate,

  Wrapt in the ruins of her husband’s fate!

  She mourned Morat should in rebellion rise;

  Yet he offends, and she’s the sacrifice.

  Arim. Not knowing his design, at court she staid;

  ‘Till, by command, close prisoner she was made.

  Since when,

  Her chains with Roman constancy she bore,

  But that, perhaps, an Indian wife’s is more.

  Ind. Go, bring her comfort; leave me here alone.