The Works of Aphra Behn, Vol. II by Aphra Behn

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Such Objects suit not Souls so soft as thine.

_Leon_. With Horrors I am grown of late familiar;
I saw my Father die, and liv'd the while;
I saw my beauteous Friend, and thy lov'd Sister,
_Florella_, whilst her Breast was bleeding fresh;
Nay, and my Brother's too, all full of Wounds,
The best and kindest Brother that ever Maid was blest with;
Poor _Philip_ bound, and led like Victims for a Sacrifice;
All this I saw and liv'd--
And canst thou hope for Pity from that Heart,
Whose harden'd Sense is Proof 'gainst all these Miseries?
This Moor, _Alonzo_, is a subtle Villain,
Yet of such Power we scarce dare think him such.

_Alon_. 'Tis true, my charming Fair, he is that Villain,
As ill and powerful too; yet he has a Heart
That may be reach'd with this--but 'tis not time,
[_Points to his Sword_.
We must dissemble yet, which is an Art
Too foul for Souls so innocent as thine.
_Enter_ Abdelazer.
The Moor!
Hell! will he not allow us sorrowing time?

_Abd_. Madam, I come to pay my humblest Duty,
And know what Service you command your Slave.

_Leon_. Alas, I've no Commands; or if I had,
I am too wretched now to be obey'd.

_Abd_. Can one so fair, and great, ask any thing
Of Men, or Heaven, they wou'd not grant with Joy?

_Leon_. Hea'vns Will I'm not permitted to dispute,
And may implore in vain; but 'tis in you
To grant me what may yet preserve my Life.

_Abd_. In me! in me! the humblest of your Creatures!
By yon bright Sun, or your more splendid Eyes,
I wou'd divest my self of every Hope,
To gratify one single Wish of yours.
--Name but the way.

_Leon_. I am so unhappy, that the only thing
I have to ask, is what you must deny;
--The Liberty of _Philip_--

_Abd_. How! _Philip's_ Liberty--and must I grant it?
I (in whose Hands Fortune had put the Crown)
Had I not lov'd the Good and Peace of _Spain_,
Might have dispos'd it to my own Advantage;
And shall that Peace,
Which I've preferr'd above my proper Glories,
Be lost again in him, in him a Bastard?

_Alon_. That he's a Bastard, is not, Sir, believ'd;
And she that cou'd love you, might after that
Do any other Sin, and 'twas the least
Of all the Number to declare him Bastard.

_Abd_. How, Sir! that you'd love me! what is there here,
Or in my Soul, or Person, may not be belov'd?

_Alon_. I spoke without Reflection on your Person,
But of dishonest Love, which was too plain,
From whence came all the Ills we have endur'd;
And now being warm in Mischiefs,
Thou dost pursue the Game, till all be thine.

_Abd_. Mine!

_Alon_. Yes, thine--
The little humble Mask which you put on
Upon the Face of Falshood, and Ambition,
Is easily seen thro; you gave a Crown,
But you'll command the Kingly Power still,
Arm and disband, destroy or save at Pleasure.

_Abd_. Vain Boy, (whose highest Fame,
Is that thou art the great _Alvaro's_ Son)
Where learnt you so much daring, to upbraid
My generous Power thus falsly--do you know me?

_Alon_. Yes, Prince, and 'tis that Knowledge makes me dare;
I know thy Fame in Arms; I know in Battels
Thou hast perform'd Deeds much above thy Years:
My Infant Courage too
(By the same Master taught) grew up to thine,
When thou in Rage out-didst me, not in Bravery.
--I know thou'st greater Power too--thank thy Treachery!

_Abd_. Dost thou not fear that Power?

_Alon_. By Heaven, not I,
Whilst I can this--command.
[_Lays his Hand on his Sword_.

_Abd_. I too command a Sword.
[Abd. _lays his Hand on his, and comes close up to him_.
But not to draw on thee, _Alonzo_;
Since I can prove thy Accusation false
By ways more grateful--take this Ring, _Alonzo_;
The sight of it will break down Prison-Gates,
And set all free, as was the first-born Man.

_Alon_. What means this turn?

_Abd_. To enlarge _Philip_; but on such Conditions,
As you think fit to make for my Security:
And as thou'rt brave, deal with me as I merit.

_Alon_. Art thou in earnest?

_Abd_. I am, by all that's sacred.

_Leon_. Oh, let me fall before you, and ne'er rise,
Till I have made you know what Gratitude
Is fit for such a Bounty!--
Haste, my _Alonzo_--haste--and treat with _Philip_;
Nor do I wish his Freedom, but on such Terms
As may be advantageous to the Moor.

_Alon_. Nor I, by Heaven! I know the Prince's Soul,
Though it be fierce, has Gratitude and Honour;
And for a Deed like this, will make returns,
Such as are worthy of the brave Obliger.
[_Exit_ Alon.

_Abd_. Yes, if he be not gone to Heaven before you come. [_Aside_.
--What will become of _Abdelazer_ now,
Who with his Power has thrown away his Liberty?

_Leon_. Your Liberty! Oh, Heaven forbid that you,
Who can so generously give Liberty,
Should be depriv'd of it!
It must not be whilst _Leonora_ lives.

_Abd_. 'Tis she that takes it from me.

_Leon_. I! Alas, I wou'd not for the World
Give you one minute's Pain.

_Abd_. You cannot help it, 'tis against your Will;
Your Eyes insensibly do wound and kill.

_Leon_. What can you mean? and yet I fear to know.

_Abd_. Most charming of your Sex! had Nature made
This clouded Face, like to my Heart, all Love,
It might have spar'd that Language which you dread;
Whose rough harsh sound, unfit for tender Ears,
Will ill express the Business of my Life.

_Leon_. Forbear it, if that Business, Sir, be Love.

_Abd_. Gods!
Because I want the art to tell my Story
In that soft way, which those can do whose Business
Is to be still so idly employ'd,
I must be silent and endure my Pain,
Which Heaven ne'er gave me so much lameness for.
Love in my Soul is not that gentle thing
It is in other Breasts; instead of Calms,
It ruffles mine into uneasy Storms.
--I wou'd not love, if I cou'd help it, Madam;
But since 'tis not to be resisted here--
You must permit it to approach your Ear.

_Leon_. Not when I cannot hear it, Sir, with Honour.

_Abd_. With Honour!
Nay, I can talk in the Defence of that:
By all that's sacred, 'tis a Flame as virtuous,
As every Thought inhabits your fair Soul,
And it shall learn to be as gentle too;
--For I must merit you--

_Leon_. I will not hear this Language; merit me!

_Abd_. Yes--why not?
You're but the Daughter of the King of _Spain_,
And I am Heir to great Abdela, Madam;
I can command this Kingdom you possess,
(Of which my Passion only made you Queen)
And re-assume that which your Father took
From mine--a Crown as bright as that of _Spain_.

_Leon_. You said you wou'd be gentle--

_Abd_. I will; this sullen Heart shall learn to bow,
And keep it self within the Bounds of Love;
Its Language I'll deliver out in Sighs,
Soft as the Whispers of a yielding Virgin.
I cou'd transform my Soul to any Shape;
Nay, I could even teach my Eyes the Art
To change their natural Fierceness into Smiles;
--What is't I wou'd not do to gain that Heart!

_Leon_. Which never can be yours! that and my Vows,
Are to _Alonzo_ given; which he lays claim to
By the most sacred Ties, Love and Obedience;
All _Spain_ esteems him worthy of that Love.

_Abd_. More worthy it than I! it was a Woman,
A nice, vain, peevish Creature that pronounc'd it;
Had it been Man, 't had been his last Transgression.
--His Birth! his glorious Actions! are they like mine?

_Leon_. Perhaps his Birth wants those Advantages,
Which Nature has laid out in Beauty on his Person.

_Abd_. Ay! there's your Cause of Hate! Curst be my Birth,
And curst be Nature that has dy'd my Skin
With this ungrateful Colour! cou'd not the Gods
Have given me equal Beauty with _Alonzo_!
--Yet as I am, I've been in vain ador'd,
And Beauties great as thine have languish'd for me.
The Lights put out, thou in thy naked Arms
Will find me soft and smooth as polish'd Ebony;
And all my Kisses on thy balmy Lips as sweet,
As are the Breezes, breath'd amidst the Groves
Of ripening Spices in the height of Day:
As vigorous too,
As if each Night were the first happy Moment
I laid thy panting Body to my Bosom.
Oh, that transporting Thought--
See--I can bend as low, and sigh as often,
[Kneels.
And sue for Blessings only you can grant;
As any fair and soft _Alonzo_ can--
If you could pity me as well--
But you are deaf, and in your Eyes I read
[_Rises with Anger_.
A Scorn which animates my Love and Anger;
Nor know I which I should dismiss or cherish.

_Leon_. The last is much more welcome than the first;
Your Anger can but kill; but, Sir, your Love--
Will make me ever wretched, since 'tis impossible
I ever can return it.

_Abd_. Why, kill me then! you must do one or t'other.
[_Kneels_.
For thus--I cannot live--why dost thou weep?
Thy every Tear's enough to drown my Soul!
How tame Love renders every feeble Sense!
[_Rises_.
--Gods! I shall turn Woman, and my Eyes inform me
The Transformation's near--Death! I'll not endure it,
I'll fly before sh'as quite undone my Soul--
[_Offers to go_.
But 'tis not in my Power--she holds it fast--
And I can now command no single part--
[Returns.
Tell me, bright Maid, if I were amiable,
And you were uningag'd, could you then love me?

_Leon_. No! I could die first.

_Abd_. Hah!--awake, my Soul, from out this drousy Fit,
And with thy wonted Bravery scorn thy Fetters.
By Heaven, 'tis gone! and I am now my self.
Be gone, my dull Submission! my lazy Flame
Grows sensible, and knows for what 'twas kindled.
Coy Mistress, you must yield, and quickly too:
Were you devout as Vestals, pure as their Fire,
Yet I wou'd wanton in the rifled Spoils
Of all that sacred Innocence and Beauty.
--Oh, my Desire's grown high!
Raging as midnight Flames let loose in Cities,
And, like that too, will ruin where it lights.
Come, this Apartment was design'd for Pleasure,
And made thus silent, and thus gay for me;
There I'll convince that Error, that vainly made thee think
I was not meant for Love.

_Leon_. Am I betray'd? are all my Women gone?
And have I nought but Heaven for my Defence?

_Abd_. None else, and that's too distant to befriend you.

_Leon_. Oh, take my Life, and spare my dearer Honour!
--Help, help, ye Powers that favour Innocence.
[_Enter Women_.
_Just as the Moor is going to force in_ Leonora,
_enters to him_ Osmin _in haste_.

_Osm_. My Lord, _Alonzo_--

_Abd_. What of him, you Slave--is he not secur'd?
Speak, dull Intruder, that know'st not times and seasons,
Or get thee hence.

_Osm_. Not till I've done the Business which I came for.

_Abd_. Slave!--that thou cam'st for.
[_Stabs him in the Arm_.

_Osm_. No, 'twas to tell you, that _Alonzo_,
Finding himself betray'd, made brave resistance;
Some of your Slaves h'as killed, and some h'as wounded.

_Abd_. 'Tis time he were secured;
I must assist my Guards, or all is lost.
[_Exit_.

_Leon_. Sure, _Osmin_, from the Gods thou cam'st,
To hinder my undoing; and if thou dy'st,
Heaven will almost forgive thy other Sins
For this one pious Deed.--
But yet I hope thy Wound's not mortal.

_Osm_. 'Tis only in my Arm--and, Madam, for this pity,
I'll live to do you Service.

_Leon_. What Service can the Favourite of the Moor,
Train'd up in Blood and Mischiefs, render me?

_Osm_. Why, Madam, I command the Guard of Moors,
Who will all die, when e'er I give the Word.
Madam, 'twas I caus'd _Philip_ and the Cardinal
To fly to th' Camp,
And gave 'em warning of approaching Death.

_Leon_. Heaven bless thee for thy Goodness.

_Osm_. I am weary now of being a Tyrant's Slave,
And bearing Blows too; the rest I could have suffer'd.
Madam, I'll free the Prince.
But see, the Moor returns.

_Leon_. That Monster's Presence I must fly, as from a killing Plague.

[_Ex. with her Women_.
_Enter_ Abdelazer _with_ Zarrack, _and a Train of Moors_.

_Abd_. It is prodigious, that a single Man
Should with such Bravery defend his Life
Amongst so many Swords;--but he is safe.
_Osmin_, I am not us'd to sue for Pardon,
And when I do, you ought to grant it me.

_Osm_. I did not merit, Sir, so harsh a Usage.

_Abd_. No more; I'm asham'd to be upbraided,
And will repair the Injury I did thee.

_Osm_. Acknowledgment from you is pay sufficient.

_Abd_. Yet, _Osmin_, I shou'd chide your Negligence,
Since by it _Philip_ lives still, and the Cardinal.

_Osm_. I had design'd it, Sir, this Evening's Sacrifice.

_Abd_. _Zarrack_ shall now perform it--and instantly:
_Alonzo_ too must bear 'em company.

_Zar_. I'll shew my Duty in my haste, my Lord.
[_Ex_. Zar.

_Osm_. Death! I'm undone; I'll after him, and kill him.
[_Offers to go_.

_Abd. Osmin_, I've business with you.--

[Osm. _comes back bowing.
As they are going off, enter_ Leonora, Ordonio, _other
Lords, and Women_.

_Leon_. Oh Prince! for Pity hear and grant my Suit.
[_Kneels_.

_Abd_. When so much Beauty's prostrate at my Feet,
What is't I can deny?--rise, thou brightest Virgin
That ever Nature made;
Rise, and command my Life, my Soul, my Honour.

_Leon_. No, let me hang for ever on your Knees,
Unless you'll grant _Alonzo_ Liberty.

_Abd_. Rise, I will grant it; though _Alonzo_, Madam,
Betray'd that Trust I had repos'd in him.

_Leon_. I know there's some Mistake; let me negotiate
Between my Brother and the Gallant Moor.
I cannot force your Guards,
There is no Danger in a Woman's Arm.

_Abd_. In your bright Eyes there is, that may corrupt 'em more
Than all the Treasures of the Eastern Kings.
Yet, Madam, here I do resign my Power;
Act as you please, dismiss _Alonzo's_ Chains.
And since you are so generous, to despise
This Crown, which I have given you,
_Philip_ shall owe his Greatness to your Bounty,
And whilst he makes me safe, shall rule in Spain.
--_Osmin_--
[_Whispers_.

_Ord_. And will you trust him, Madam?

_Leon_. If he deceive me, 'tis more happy far
To die with them, than live where he inhabits.

_Osm_. It shall be done.

_Abd_. Go, _Osmin_, wait upon the Queen;
And when she is confin'd, I'll visit her,
Where if she yield, she reigns; if not, she dies. [_Aside_.

[_Ex_. Abd. _one way_, Leon. Osm. _and the rest another_.

SCENE III. _A Prison_.

_Discovers_ Philip _chain'd to a Post, and over against him
the_ Cardinal _and_ Alonzo _in Chains_.

_Phil_. Oh, all ye cruel Powers! is't not enough
I am depriv'd of Empire, and of Honour?
Have my bright Name stol'n from me, with my Crown!
Divested of all Power! all Liberty!
And here am chain'd like the sad Andromede,
To wait Destruction from the dreadful Monster!
Is not all this enough, without being damn'd,
To have thee, Cardinal, in my full view?
If I cou'd reach my Eyes, I'd be reveng'd
On the officious and accursed Lights,
For guiding so much torment to my Soul.

_Card_. My much wrong'd Prince! you need not wish to kill
By ways more certain, than by upbraiding me
With my too credulous, shameful past misdeeds.

_Phil_. If that wou'd kill, I'd weary out my Tongue
With an eternal repetition of thy Treachery;--
Nay, and it shou'd forget all other Language,
But Traitor! Cardinal! which I wou'd repeat,
Till I had made my self as raging mad,
As the wild Sea, when all the Winds are up;
And in that Storm, I might forget my Grief.

_Card_. Wou'd I cou'd take the killing Object from your Eyes.

_Phil_. Oh _Alonzo_, to add to my Distraction,
Must I find thee a sharer in my Fate?

_Alon_. It is my Duty, Sir, to die with you.--
But, Sir, my Princess
Has here--a more than equal claim to Grief;
And Fear for her dear Safety will deprive me
Of this poor Life, that shou'd have been your Sacrifice.

_Enter_ Zarrack _with a Dagger; gazes on_ Philip.

_Phil_. Kind Murderer, welcome! quickly free my Soul,
And I will kiss the sooty Hand that wounds me.

_Zar_. Oh, I see you can be humble.

_Phil_. Humble! I'll be as gentle as a Love-sick Youth,
When his dear Conqu'ress sighs a Hope into him,
If thou wilt kill me!--Pity me and kill me.

_Zar_. I hope to see your own Hand do that Office.

_Phil_. Oh, thou wert brave indeed,
If thou wou'dst lend me but the use of one.

_Zar_. You'll want a Dagger then.

_Phil_. By Heaven, no, I'd run it down my Throat,
Or strike my pointed Fingers through my Breast.

_Zar_. Ha, ha, ha, what pity 'tis you want a Hand.

_Enter_ Osmin.

_Phil. Osmin_, sure thou wilt be so kind to kill me!
Thou hadst a Soul was humane.

_Osm_. Indeed I will not, Sir, you are my King.
[_Unbinds him_.

_Phil_. What mean'st thou?

_Osm_. To set you free, my Prince.

_Phil_. Thou art some Angel sure, in that dark Cloud.

_Zar_. What mean'st thou, Traitor?

_Osm_. Wait till your Eyes inform you.

_Card_. Good Gods! what mean'st thou?

_Osm_. Sir, arm your Hand with this.
[_Gives_ Phil. _a Sword, goes to undo_ Alonzo.

_Zar_. Thou art half-damn'd for this!
I'll to my Prince--

_Phil_. I'll stop you on your way--lie there--your Tongue
[_Kills him_.
Shall tell no Tales to day--Now, Cardinal--but hold,
I scorn to strike thee whilst thou art unarm'd,
Yet so thou didst to me;
For which I have not leisure now to kill thee.
--Here, take thy Liberty;--nay, do not thank me;
By Heaven, I do not mean it as a Grace.

_Osm_. My Lord, take this--
[_To_ Alon. _and the_ Card.
And this--to arm your Highness.

_Alon_. Thou dost amaze me!

_Osm_. Keep in your Wonder with your Doubts, my Lord.

_Phil_. We cannot doubt, whilst we're thus fortify'd--
[_Looks on his Sword_.
Come, _Osmin_, let us fall upon the Guards.

_Osm_. There are no Guards, great Sir, but what are yours;
And see--your Friends I've brought to serve ye too.

[_Opens a back Door.
_Enter_ Leonora _and Women_, Ordonio, Sebastian,
Antonio, _etc_.

_Phil_. My dearest Sister safe!

_Leon_. Whilst in your Presence, Sir, and you thus arm'd.

_Osm_. The Moor approaches,--now be ready all.

_Phil_. That Name I never heard with Joy till now;
Let him come on, and arm'd with all his Powers,
Thus singly I defy him. [_Draws_.

_Enter_ Abdelazer.
[Osmin _secures the Doors_.

_Abd_. Hah! betray'd! and by my Slaves! by _Osmin_ too!

_Phil_. Now, thou damn'd Villain! true-born Soul of Hell!
Not one of thy infernal Kin shall save thee.

_Abd_. Base Coward Prince!
Whom the admiring World mistakes for Brave;
When all thy boasted Valour, fierce and hot
As was thy Mother in her height of Lust,
Can with the aid of all these--treacherous Swords,
Take but a single Life; but such a Life,
As amongst all their Store the envying Gods
Have not another such to breathe in Man.

_Phil_. Vaunt on, thou monstrous Instrument of Hell!
For I'm so pleas'd to have thee in my Power,
That I can hear thee number up thy Sins,
And yet be calm, whilst thou art near Damnation.

_Abd_. Thou ly'st, thou canst not keep thy Temper in;
For hadst thou so much Bravery of Mind,
Thou'dst fight me singly; which thou dar'st not do.

_Phil_. Not dare!
By Heaven, if thou wert twenty Villains more,
And I had all thy Weight of Sins about me,
I durst thus venture on;--forbear, _Alonzo_.

_Alon_. I will not, Sir.

_Phil_. I was indeed too rash; 'tis such a Villain,
As shou'd receive his Death from nought but Slaves.

_Abd_. Thou'st Reason, Prince! nor can they wound my Body
More than I've done thy Fame; for my first step
To my Revenge, I whor'd the Queen thy Mother.

_Phil_. Death! though this I knew before, yet the hard Word
Runs harshly thro my Heart;--
If thou hadst murder'd fifty Royal _Ferdinands_,
And with inglorious Chains as many Years
Had loaded all my Limbs, 't had been more pardonable
Than this eternal Stain upon my Name:
--Oh, thou hast breath'd thy worst of Venom now.

_Abd_. My next advance was poisoning of thy Father.

_Phil_. My Father poison'd! and by thee, thou Dog!
Oh, that thou hadst a thousand Lives to lose,
Or that the World depended on thy single one,
That I might make a Victim
Worthy to offer up to his wrong'd Ghost.--
But stay, there's something of thy Count of Sins untold,
That I must know; not that I doubt, by Heaven,
That I am _Philip's_ Son--

_Abd_. Not for thy Ease, but to declare my Malice,
Know, Prince, I made thy amorous Mother
Proclaim thee Bastard, when I miss'd of killing rhee.

_Phil_. Gods! let me contain my Rage!

_Abd_. I made her too betray the credulous Cardinal,
And having then no farther use of her,
Satiated with her Lust,
I set _Roderigo_ on to murder her.
Thy Death had next succeeded; and thy Crown
I wou'd have laid at _Leonora's_ Feet.

_Alon_. How! durst you love the Princess?

_Abd_. Fool, durst! had I been born a Slave,
I durst with this same Soul do any thing:
Yes, and the last Sense that will remain about me,
Will be my Passion for that charming Maid,
Whom I'd enjoy'd e'er now, but for thy Treachery.
[_To_ Osmin.

_Phil_. Deflour'd my Sister! Heaven punish me eternally,
If thou out-liv'st the Minute thou'st declar'd it.

_Abd_. I will, in spite of all that thou canst do.
--Stand off, fool-hardy Youth, if thou'dst be safe,
And do not draw thy certain Ruin on,
Or think that e'er this Hand was arm'd in vain.

_Phil_. Poor angry Slave, how I contemn thee now!

_Abd_. As humble Huntsmen do the generous Lion;
Now thou darst see me lash my Sides, and roar,
And bite my Snare in vain; who with one Look
(Had I been free) hadst shrunk into the Earth,
For shelter from my Rage:
And like that noble Beast, though thus betray'd,
I've yet an awful Fierceness in my Looks,
Which makes thee fear t'approach; and 'tis at distance
That thou dar'st kill me; for come but in my reach,
And with one Grasp I wou'd confound thy Hopes.

_Phil_. I'll let thee see how vain thy Boastings are,
And unassisted, by one single Rage,
Thus--make an easy Passage to thy Heart.

[_Runs on him, all the rest do the like in the same Minute_.
Abd. _aims at the_ Prince, _and kills_ Osmin, _and falls
dead himself_.

--Die with thy Sins unpardon'd, and forgotten--

[_Shout within_.

_Alon_. Great Sir, your Throne and Kingdom want you now;
Your People rude with Joy, do fill each Street,
And long to see their King--whom Heaven preserve.

_All_. Long live _Philip_, King of _Spain_--

_Phil_. I thank ye all;--and now, my dear _Alonzo_,
Receive the Recompence of all thy Sufferings,
Whilst I create thee Duke of _Salamancha_.

_Alon_. Thus low I take the Bounty from your Hands.
[_Kneels_.

_Leon_. Rise, Sir, my Brother now has made us equal.

_Card_. And shall this joyful Day, that has restor'd you
To all the Glories of your Birth and Merits,
That has restor'd all _Spain_ the greatest Treasure
That ever happy Monarchy possess'd,
Leave only me unhappy, when, Sir, my Crime
Was only too much Faith?--Thus low I fall, [_Kneels_.
And from that Store of Mercy Heaven has given you,
Implore you wou'd dispense a little here.

_Phil_. Rise, (though with much ado) I will forgive you.

_Leon_. Come, my dear Brother, to that glorious business,
Our Birth and Fortunes call us, let us haste,
For here methinks we are in danger still.

_Phil_. So after Storms, the joyful Mariner
Beholds the distant wish'd-for Shore afar,
And longs to bring the rich-fraight Vessel in,
Fearing to trust the faithless Seas again.

EPILOGUE.

Spoken by little Mrs. _Ariell_.

_With late Success being blest, I'm come agen;
You see what Kindness can do, Gentlemen,
Which when once shewn, our Sex cannot refrain.
Yet spite of such a Censure I'll proceed,
And for our Poetess will intercede:
Before, a Poet's wheedling Words prevail'd,
Whose melting Speech my tender Heart assail'd,
And I the flatt'ring Scribler's Cause maintain'd;
So by my means the Fop Applauses gain'd.
'Twas wisely done to chuse m' his Advocate,
Since I have prov'd to be his better Fate;
For what I lik'd, I thought you could not hate.
Respect for you, Gallants, made me comply,
Though I confess he did my Passion try,
And I am too good-natur'd to deny.
But now not Pity, but my Sex's Cause,
Whose Beauty does, like Monarchs, give you Laws,
Should now command, being join'd with Wit, Applause.
Yet since our Beauty's Power's not absolute,
She'll not the Privilege of your Sex dispute,
But does by me submit.--Yet since you've been
For my sake kind, repeat it once agen.
Your Kindness, Gallants, I shall soon repay,
If you'll but favour my Design to Day:
Your last Applauses, like refreshing Showers,
Made me spring up and bud like early Flow'rs;
Since then I'm grown at least an Inch in height,
And shall e'er long be full-blown for Delight_.

Written by a Friend.

THE YOUNG KING; OR, THE MISTAKE.

ARGUMENT.

Orsames, heir to the Dacian throne, has been kept in a castle from
His infancy, never having seen any human being save his old tutor,
Geron, owing to an Oracle which foretold great cruelties and mischiefs
If he should be allowed to wear the crown. The Queen of Dacia designs
Her daughter Cleomena as her successor, and with this intent gives her
An Amazonian education. The Dacians and Scythians are at war, but
Thersander, The Scythian prince, has joined the Dacians under the name
Of Clemanthis, inasmuch as he loves the princess, who in her turn
Becomes enamoured of him. He is recognized but not betrayed by Urania,
a Scythian lady who, her lover Amintas having been previously captured,
allows herself to be taken prisoner and presented to Cleomena. Amintas
is confined in the old castle where Urania, visiting him, is accidently
seen by Orsames. He is, however, persuaded by Geron that it is an
apparition. Amintas is freed by Urania, who has gained Cleomena's
friendship. Honorius, the Dacian general, offers Thersander his daughter
Olympia, and the young Scythian is obliged to feign acceptance. Cleomena
hears Honorius telling the Queen his design and goes off enraged, only to
see Thersander seemingly courting Olympia. She raves and threatens to
kill him, but eventually parts with disdain, bidding him quit the place.
Orsames is now brought from the castle during his sleep, crowned, seated
on the throne and treated in every respect as King. His power is
acknowledged, the Queen kneels before him, and Olympia entering, he
falls violently in love with her. At a supposed contradiction he orders
one courtier to instant execution and another to be cast into the sea.
Immediately after, during a banquet, a narcotic is mingled with his wine
and he is conveyed back to the castle whilst under its influence,
leaving the Queen fearful that her experiment is of no avail as he has
displayed so tyrannical and cruel a nature.

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