No More Learning

I stand engaged in hopeless love to Julia;
In gratitude to these:--
Here I have given my heart, and here I owe it.

_Hip_. Dear master, trouble not yourself for me;
I ever made your happiness my own;
Let Julia witness with what faith I served you.
When you employed me in your love to her,
I gave your noble heart away, as if
It had been some light gallant's, little worth:
Not that I loved you less than Angelina,
But myself less than you.

_Gons_. Wonder of honour!
Of which my own was but a fainter shadow.
When I gave Julia, whom I could not keep,
You fed a fire within, with too rich fuel,
In giving it your heart to prey upon;
The sweetest offering that was ever burnt
Since last the Phoenix died.

_Hip_. If Angelina knew, like me, the pride
Of noble minds, which is to give, not take,
Like me she would be satisfied, her heart
Was well bestowed, and ask for no return.

_Amid_. Pray, let my heart alone; you'll use it as
The gipsies do our money;
If they once touch it, they have power upon't.

_Enter the Servant, who appeared in the first act with GONSALVO_.

_Serv_. O, my dear lord, Gonsalvo de Peralta!

_Rod_. De Peralta, said you? You amaze me!

_Gons_. Why? --Do you know that family in Seville?

_Rod_. I am myself the elder brother of it.

_Gons_. Don Rodorick de Peralta!

_Rod_. I was so,
Until my mother died, whose name, de Sylva,
I chose, (our custom not forbidding it)
Three years ago, when I returned from Flanders:
I came here to possess a fair estate,
Left by an aunt, her sister; for whose sake
I take that name; and liked the place so well,
That never since have I returned to Seville.

_Gons_. 'Twas then that change of name, which caused my letters
All to miscarry. What an happy tempest
Was this, which would not let me rest at Seville,
But blew me farther on, to see you here!

_Amid_. Brother, I come to claim a sister's share:
But you're too near me, to be nearer now.

_Gons_. In my room, let me beg you to receive
Don Manuel.

_Amid_. I take it half unkindly,
You give me from yourself so soon: Don Manuel,
I know, is worthy, and, but yesterday,
Preserved my life; but, it will take some time
To change my heart.

_Man_. I'll watch it patiently, as chemists do
Their golden birth; and, when 'tis changed, receive it
With greater care than they their rich elixir,
Just passing from one vial to another.

_Rod_. Julia is still my brother's, though I lose her.

_Gons_. You shall not lose her; Julia was born
For none but you;
And I for none but my Honoria:
Julia is yours by inclination;
And I, by conquest, am Honoria's.

_Hon_. 'Tis the most glorious one that e'er was made:
And I no longer will dispute my happiness.

_Rod_. Julia, you know my peevish jealousies;
I cannot promise you a better husband
Than you have had a servant.

_Jul_. I receive you
With all your faults.

_Rod_. And think, when I am froward,
My sullen humour punishes itself:
I'm like a day in March, sometimes o'ercast
With storms, but then the after clearness is
The greater. The worst is, where I love most,
The tempest falls most heavy.

_Jul_. Ah! what a little time to love is lent!
Yet half that time is in unkindness spent.

_Rod_. That you may see some hope of my amendment,
I give my friendship to Don Manuel, ere
My brother asks, or he himself desires it.

_Man_. I'll ever cherish it.

_Gons_. Since, for my sake, you become friends, my care
Shall be to keep you so. You, captain, shall
Command this carrack, and, with her, my fortunes.
You, my Honoria, though you have an heart
Which Julia left, yet think it not the worse;
'Tis not worn out, but polished by the wearing.
Your merit shall her beauty's power remove;
Beauty but gains, obligement keeps our love.

[_Exeunt_.




THE
INDIAN QUEEN,
A
TRAGEDY,


WRITTEN BY THE
HON. SIR ROBERT HOWARD,
AND
MR DRYDEN.



THE INDIAN QUEEN

The plays of Sir Robert Howard were tolerated by his contemporaries,
on account of the rank, gallantry, and loyalty, of the author; at
least, we are now unable to discover any better reason for their
success. The Committee, alone, kept possession of the stage till our
time; and that solely supported by the humours of Teague, an honest
blundering Irish footman, such as we usually see in a modern farce.
From a hint, given by Langbaine, Sir Robert Howard seems to have been
suspected of frequent plagiarisms. At any rate it is certain, that, in
the composition of the Indian Queen, he was so fortunate, as to have
the assistance of our great poet, who was bound to him by ties of
personal obligation.

It is, of course, difficult even to guess at the share which Dryden
had in the Indian Queen. Several of the characters have a strong
resemblance to others, which he afterwards drew in bolder colours.
Thus, Montezuma, who, like the hero of an ancient romance, bears
fortune to any side which he pleases to espouse, is justly pointed out
by Settle, as the prototype of Almanzor; though we look in vain for
the glowing language, which, though sometimes bordering on burlesque,
suits so well the extravagant character of the Moorish hero. Zempoalla
strongly resembles Nourmuhal in Aureng-Zebe; both shewing that high
spirit of pride, with which Dryden has often invested his female
characters. The language of the Indian Queen possesses, in general,
greater ease, and a readier flow of verse, than Sir Robert Howard
appears to have possessed, when unassisted. Of this he seems,
himself, to have been sensible; and alludes to Dryden's acknowledged
superiority, when maintaining against him the cause of dramatic blank
verse, as preferable to rhyme[1]. Besides general hints towards the
conception of the characters, and a superintendance of the dialogue,
it is probable, that Dryden wrote some entire scenes of the following
piece. In the third act particularly, the passage respecting the
incantation, which resembles that in the Indian Emperor, has strong
traces of our author's manner.

[Footnote 1: "But writing the epistle in so much haste, I had almost
forgot one argument, or observation, which that author (Dryden) has
most good fortune in. It is in his Epistle Dedicatory, before his
essay of _Dramatic Poesie_; where, speaking of rhyme in plays, he
desires it may be observed, that none are violent against it, but such
as have not attempted it, or who have succeeded ill in the attempt:
Which, as to myself, and him, I easily acknowledge;--for, I confess,
none has written in that way better than himself, nor few worse than
I. "

_Introduction to the Great Favourite, or the Duke of Lerma_. ]

The Indian Queen was acted in 1664; and received, says Langbaine, with
great applause. It was printed in 1665.



Prologue

_As the music plays a soft air, the curtain rises slowly, and
discovers an Indian Boy and Girl sleeping under two plantain-trees;
and, when the curtain is almost up, the music turns into a tune
expressing an alarm, at which the Boy awakes, and speaks;


_Boy_. WAKE, wake, Quevira! our soft rest must cease,
And fly together with our country's peace!
No more must we sleep under plantain shade,
Which neither heat could pierce, nor cold invade;
Where bounteous nature never feels decay,
And opening buds drive falling fruits away.

_Que_. Why should men quarrel here, where all possess
As much as they can hope for by success? --
None can have most, where nature is so kind,
As to exceed man's use, though not his mind.

_Boy_. By ancient prophecies we have been told,
Our world shall be subdued by one more old;--
And, see, that world already hither come.

_Que_. If these be they, we welcome then our doom!
Their looks are Such, that mercy flows from thence,
More gentle than our native innocence.

_Boy_. Why should we then fear these, our enemies,
That rather seem to us like deities?

_Que_. By their protection, let us beg to live;
They came not here to conquer, but forgive. --
If so, your goodness may your power express,
And we shall judge both best by our success.



DRAMATIS PERSONAE


_The Inca of Peru_.
MONTEZUMA, _his General_.
ACACIS, _son to_ ZEMPOALLA.
TRAXALLA, _General to_ ZEMPOALLA.
GARUCCA, _a faithful subject to_ AMEXIA.
_The God of Dreams_.
ISMERON, _one of the prophets, a conjuror_.
_Officers and Soldiers.
Peruvians and Mexicans.
Priests_.

AMEXIA, _the lawful queen of Mexico_.
ZEMPOALLA, _the usurping Indian Queen_.
ORAZIA,_daughter to the Inca_.
_Attendants of Ladies_.



THE
INDIAN QUEEN.


ACT I. SCENE I.


_Enter Inca,_ ORAZIA, MONTEZUMA, ACACIS, _prisoners, with
Peruvians_.


_Inca_. Thrice have the Mexicans before us fled,
Their armies broke, their prince in triumph led;
Both to thy valour, brave young man, we owe;
Ask thy reward, but such as it may show
It is a king thou hast obliged, whose mind
Is large, and, like his fortune, unconfined.

_Mont_. Young, and a stranger, to your court I
came,
There, by your favour, raised to what I am:
I conquer, but in right of your great fate,
And so your arms, not mine, are fortunate.

_Inca_. I am impatient, till this debt be paid.
Which still encreases on me while delayed;
A bounteous monarch to himself is kind:
Ask such a gift as may for ever bind
Thy service to my empire, and to me.

_Mont_. What can this gift, he bids me ask him, be!
Perhaps he has perceived our mutual fires,
And now, with ours, would crown his own desires;
'Tis so, he sees my service is above
All other payments but his daughter's love.

[_Aside_.

_Inca_. So quick to merit, and to take so slow?
I first prevent small wishes, and bestow
This prince, his sword and fortunes, to thy hand;
He's thine unasked; now make thy free demand.

_Mont_. Here, prince, receive this sword, as only due

[_Gives_ ACACIS _his sword_.

To that excess of courage shown in you. --
When you, without demand, a prince bestow,
Less than a prince to ask of you were low.

_Inca_. Then ask a kingdom; say, where thou wilt
reign.

_Mont_. I beg not empires, those my sword can gain;
But, for my past and future service too,
What I have done, and what I mean to do;
For this of Mexico which I have won,
And kingdoms I will conquer yet unknown;
I only ask from fair Orazia's eyes
To reap the fruits of all my victories.

_1 Peru_. Our Inca's colour mounts into his face.

_2 Peru_. His looks speak death.

_Inca_. Young man of unknown race,
Ask once again; so well thy merits plead,
Thou shall not die for that which thou hast said;
The price of what thou ask'st, thou dost not know;
That gift's too high.

_Mont_. And all besides too low.

_Inca_. Once more I bid thee ask.

_Mont_. Once more I make
The same demand.

_Inca_. The Inca bids thee take
Thy choice, what towns, what kingdoms thou would'st have.

_Mont_. Thou giv'st me only what before I gave.
Give me thy daughter.

_Inca_. Thou deserv'st to die.
O thou great author of our progeny,
Thou glorious sun, dost thou not blush to shine,
While such base blood attempts to mix with thine!

_Mont_. That sun, thou speak'st of, did not hide his face,
When he beheld me conquering with his race.

_Inca_. My fortunes gave thee thy success in fight!
Convey thy boasted valour from my sight;
I can o'ercome without thy feeble aid.

[_Exeunt Inca_, ORAZIA, _and Peruvians_.

_Mont_. And is it thus my services are paid?
Not all his guards--

[_Offers to go,_ ACACIS _holds him_.

_Aca_. Hold, sir.

_Mont_. Unhand me.

_Aca_. No, I must your rage prevent
From doing what your reason would repent;
Like the vast seas, your mind no limits knows,
Like them, lies open to each wind that blows.

_Mont_. Can a revenge, that is so just, be ill?

_Aca_. It is Orazia's father, you would kill.

_Mont_. Orazia! how that name has charmed my sword!

_Aca_. Compose these wild distempers in your breast;
Anger, like madness, is appeased by rest.

_Mont_. Bid children sleep, my spirits boil too high;
But, since Orazia's father must not die,
A nobler vengeance shall my actions guide;
I'll bear the conquest to the conquered side,
Until this Inca for my friendship sues,
And proffers what his pride does now refuse.

_Aca_. Your honour is obliged to keep your trust.

_Mont_. He broke that bond, in ceasing to be just.

_Aca_. Subjects to kings should more obedience pay.

_Mont_. Subjects are bound, not strangers, to obey.

_Aca_. Can you so little your Orazia prize,
To give the conquest to her enemies?
Can you so easily forego her sight?
I, that hold liberty more dear than light,
Yet to my freedom should my chains prefer,
And think it were well lost to stay with her.

_Mont_.
How unsuccessfully I still o'ercome!
I brought a rival, not a captive, home;
Yet I may be deceived; but 'tis too late
To clear those doubts, my stay brings certain fate.
[_Aside_.
Come, prince, you shall to Mexico return,
Where your sad armies do your absence mourn;
And in one battle I will gain you more
Than I have made you lose in three before.

_Aca_. No, Montezuma, though you change your side,
I, as a prisoner, am by honour tied.

_Mont_. You are my prisoner, and I set you free.

_Aca_. 'Twere baseness to accept such liberty.

_Mont_. From him, that conquered you, it should be sought.

_Aca_. No, but from him, for whom my conqueror fought.

_Mont_. Still you are mine, his gift has made you so.

_Aca_. He gave me to his general, not his foe.

_Mont_. How poorly have you pleaded honour's laws!
Yet shun the greatest in your country's cause.

_Aca_. What succour can the captive give the free.

_Mont_. A needless captive is an enemy.
In painted honour you would seem to shine;
But 'twould be clouded, were your wrongs like mine.

_Aca_. When choler such unbridled power can
have,
Thy virtue seems but thy revenge's slave:
If such injustice should my honour stain,
My aid would prove my nation's loss, not gain.

_Mont_. Be cozened by thy guilty honesty,
To make thyself thy country's enemy.

_Aca_. I do not mean in the next fight to stain
My sword in blood of any Mexican,
But will be present in the fatal strife,
To guard Orazia's and the Inca's life.

_Mont_. Orazia's life, fond man! First guard thy
own;
Her safety she must owe to me alone.

_Aca_. Your sword, that does such wonders, cannot
be,
In an ill cause, secure of victory.

_Mont_. Hark, hark! [_Noise of trampling_.

_Aca_. What noise is this invades my ear?
Fly, Montezuma! fly, the guards are near:
To favour your retreat, I'll freely pay
That life, which you so frankly gave this day.

_Mont_. I must retire; but those, that follow me,
Pursue their deaths, and not their victory.

[_Exit_ MONT.

_Aca_. Our quarrels kinder than our friendships
prove:
You for my country fight, I for your love.

_Enter_ INCA _and Guards_.

_Inca_. I was to blame to leave this madman free;
Perhaps he may revolt to the enemy,
Or stay, and raise some fatal mutiny.

_Aca_. Stop your pursuits, for they must pass
through me.

_Inca_. Where is the slave?

_Aca_. Gone.

_Inca_. Whither?

_Aca_. O'er the plain;
Where he may soon the camp, or city, gain.

_Inca_. Curse on my dull neglect!
And yet I do less cause of wonder find,
That he is gone, than that thou stayest behind.

_Aca_. My treatment, since you took me, was so free,
It wanted but the name of liberty.
I with less shame can still your captive live,
Than take that freedom, which you did not give.

_Inca_. Thou brave young man, that hast thy years outdone,
And, losing liberty, hast honour won,
I must myself thy honour's rival make,
And give that freedom, which thou would'st not take.
Go, and be safe. --

_Aca_. But that you may be so--
Your dangers must be past before I go.
Fierce Montezuma will for fight prepare,
And bend on you the fury of the war,
Which, by my presence, I will turn away,
If fortune gives my Mexicans the day.

_Inca_. Come, then, we are alike to honour just,
Thou to be trusted thus, and I to trust.
[_Exeunt_.


SCENE II. --_Mexico_.

_Enter_ ZEMPOALLA, TRAXALLA, _and attendants_.


_Zemp_. O my Acacis!
Does not my grief, Traxalla, seem too rude,
Thus to press out before my gratitude
Has paid my debts to you? --yet it does move
My rage and grief, to see those powers above
Punish such men, as, if they be divine,
They know will most adore, and least repine.

_Trax_. Those, that can only mourn when they are crost,
May lose themselves with grieving for the lost.
Rather to your retreated troops appear,
And let them see a woman void of fear:
The shame of that may call their spirits home.
Were the prince safe, we were not overcome,
Though we retired: O, his too youthful heat,
That thrust him where the dangers were so great!
Heaven wanted power his person to protect
From that, which he had courage to neglect:
But since he's lost, let us draw forth, and pay
His funeral rites in blood; that we or they
May, in our fates, perform his obsequies,
And make death triumph when Acacis dies.

_Zemp_. That courage, thou hast shown in fight, seems less
Than this, amidst despair to have excess:
Let thy great deeds force fate to change her mind:
He, that courts fortune boldly, makes her kind.

_Trax_. If e'er Traxalla so successful proves,
May he then say he hopes, as well as loves;
And that aspiring passion boldly own,
Which gave my prince his fate, and you his throne?
I did not feel remorse to see his blood
Flow from the spring of life into a flood;
Nor did it look like treason, since to me
You were a sovereign much more great than he.

_Zemp_. He was my brother, yet I scorned to pay
Nature's mean debts, but threw those bonds away;
When his own issue did my hopes remove,
Not only from his empire, but his love.
You, that in all my wrongs then bore a part,
Now need not doubt a place within my heart:
I could not offer you my crown and bed,
Till fame and envy with long time were dead;
But fortune does now happily present
Occasions, fit to second my intent.
Your valour may regain the public love,
And make the people's choice their queen's approve.

[_Shout_.

Hark, hark, what noise is this, that strikes my ear!

_Trax_. 'Tis not a sound that should beget a fear;
Such shouts as these have I heard often fly
From conquering armies, crowned with victory.

_Zemp_. Great God of vengeance, here I firmly vow,
Make but my Mexicans successful now,
And with a thousand feasts thy flames I'll feed;
And that I take shall on the altars bleed;
Princes themselves shall fall, and make thy shrine,
Died with their blood, in glorious blushes shine.

_Enter a Messenger_.

_Trax_. How now!
What news is this that makes thy haste a flight?

_Mess_. Such as brings victory without a fight.
The prince Acacis lives--

_Zemp_. Oh, I am blest! --

_Mess_. Reserve some joy till I have told the rest.
He's safe, and only wants his liberty:
But that great man, that carries victory
Where'er he goes; that mighty man, by whom
In three set battles we were overcome;
Ill used (it seems) by his ungrateful king,
Does to our camp his fate and valour bring.
The troop gaze on him, as if some bright star
Shot to their aids; call him the god of war:
Whilst he, as if all conquest did of right
Belong to him, bids them prepare to fight;
Which if they should delay one hour, he swears
He'll leave them to their dangers, or their fears,
And shame, which is the ignoble coward's choice.
At this the army seemed to have one voice,
United in a shout, and called upon
The god-like stranger, "Lead us, lead us on. "
Make haste, great sir, lest you should come too late,
To share with them in victory, or fate.

_Zemp_. My general, go; the gods be on our side;
Let valour act, but let discretion guide.

[_Exit_ TRAX.

Great god of vengeance,
I see thou dost begin to hear me now:
Make me thy offering, if I break my vow. [_Exeunt_.



ACT II. SCENE I.

_Enter_ INCA _and_ ORAZIA, _as pursued in a battle_.


_Oraz_. O fly, sir, fly; like torrents your swift foes
Come rolling on--

_Inca_. The gods can but destroy.
The noblest way to fly is that death shows;
I'll court her now, since victory's grown coy.

_Oraz_. Death's winged to your pursuit, and yet you wait
To meet her--

_Inca_. Poor Orazia, time and fate
Must once o'ertake me, though I now should fly.

_Oraz_. Do not meet death; but when it comes, then die.

_Enter three Soldiers_.

_3 Sold_. Stand, sir, and yield yourself, and that fair prey.

_Inca_. You speak to one, unpractised to obey.

_Enter_ MONTEZUMA.

_Mont_. Hold, villains, hold, or your rude lives shall be
Lost in the midst of your own victory:
These have I hunted for;--nay, do not stare;
Be gone, and in the common plunder share.

[_Exeunt Soldiers_.

How different is my fate, from theirs, whose fame
From conquest grows! from conquest grows my shame.

_Inca_. Why dost thou pause? thou canst not give me back,
With fruitless grief, what I enjoyed before;
No more than seas, repenting of a wreck,
Can with a calm our buried wealth restore.

_Mont_. 'Twere vain to own repentance, since I know
Thy scorn, which did my passions once despise,
Once more would make my swelling anger flow,
Which now ebbs lower than your miseries:
The gods, that in my fortunes were unkind,
Gave me not sceptres, nor such gilded things;
But, whilst I wanted crowns, enlarged my mind
To despise sceptres, and dispose of kings.

_Inca_. Thou art but grown a rebel by success,
And I, that scorned Orazia should be tied
To thee my slave, must now esteem thee less:
Rebellion is a greater guilt than pride.

_Mont_. Princes see others' faults, but not their own;
'Twas you that broke that bond, and set me free:
Yet I attempted not to climb your throne,
And raise myself; but level you to me.

_Oraz_. O, Montezuma, could thy love engage
Thy soul so little, or make banks so low
About thy heart, that thy revenge and rage,
Like sudden floods, so soon should overflow?
Ye gods, how much I was mistaken here!
I thought you gentle as the gall-less dove;
But you as humoursome as winds appear,
And subject to more passions than your love.

_Mont_. How have I been betrayed by guilty rage,
Which, like a flame, rose to so vast a height,
That nothing could resist, nor yet assuage,
Till it wrapt all things in one cruel fate.
But I'll redeem myself, and act such things,
That you shall blush Orazia was denied;
And yet make conquest, though with wearied wings,
Take a new flight to your own fainting side.

_Inca_. Vain man, what foolish thoughts fill thy swelled mind!
It is too late our ruin to recall;
Those, that have once great buildings undermined,
Will prove too weak to prop them in their fall.

_Enter_ TRAXALLA, _with the former soldiers_.

_1 Sold_. See, mighty sir, where the bold stranger stands,
Who snatched these glorious prisoners from our hands.

_Trax_. 'Tis the great Inca; seize him as my prey,
To crown the triumphs of this glorious day.

_Mont_. Stay your bold hands from reaching at what's mine,
If any title springs from victory;
You safer may attempt to rob a shrine,
And hope forgiveness from the deity.

_Enter_ ACACIS.

_Trax_. O, my dear prince, my joys to see you live
Are more than all that victory can give.

_Aca_. How are my best endeavours crost by fate!
Else you had ne'er been lost, or found so late.
Hurried by the wild fury of the fight,
Far from your presence, and Orazia's sight,
I could not all that care and duty show,
Which, as your captive, mighty prince, I owe.

_Inca_. You often have preserved our lives this day,
And one small debt with many bounties pay.
But human actions hang on springs, that be
Too small, or too remote, for us to see.
My glories freely I to yours resign,
And am your prisoner now, that once were mine.

_Mont_. These prisoners, sir, are mine by right of war;
And I'll maintain that right, if any dare.

_Trax_. Yes, I would snatch them from thy weak defence;
But that due reverence, which I owe my prince,
Permits me not to quarrel in his sight;
To him I shall refer his general's right.

_Mont_. I knew too well what justice I should find
From an armed plaintiff, and a judge so kind.

_Aca_. Unkindly urged, that I should use thee so;
Thy virtue is my rival, not my foe;
The prisoners fortune gave thee shall be thine.

_Trax_. Would you so great a prize to him resign?

_Aca_. Should he, who boldly for his prey designed
To dive the deepest under swelling tides,
Have the less title if he chance to find
The richest jewel that the ocean hides?
They are his due--
But in his virtue I repose that trust,
That he will be as kind as I am just:
Dispute not my commands, but go with haste,
Rally our men, they may pursue too fast,
And the disorders of the inviting prey
May turn again the fortune of the day.

[_Exit_ TRAX.

_Mont_. How gentle all this prince's actions be!
Virtue is calm in him, but rough in me.

_Aca_.