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A59315 The heir of Morocco, with the death of Gayland acted at the Theatre Royal / by E. Settle. Settle, Elkanah, 1648-1724. 1682 (1682) Wing S2689; ESTC R10746 32,906 63

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him my Hand ye Gods to plant it there Oh Ishmael I could make the rarest Bawd I 'd stuff her Pillows vvith the Stings of Scorpions Oh hovv 'tvvould make her mount into his Arms. Act the soft Dalliance vvith that Heat that Fire Then to compleat the vvanton Game I 'd mix Her amorous Potions vvith the Blood of Aspicks VVhilst he like Jove came on in Thunder she Should meet him like the burning Semele Ish VVhy all this Storm against the poor lost Altomar Sir you forget that all his hopes are vanisht And 't is the mighty Gayland must enjoy her Mer. You talk like a ravv Lover He enjoy her And must I tamely live to see the Cause The cursed Source of all my endless pains Shine the Bright Empress of our Southern VVorld And rise in Glory vvhilst I set in Ruine No Ishmael there 's a Spark in all great Souls Men call Revenge supplies the dying Fire Of injured Love To gratifie that last Dear pleasure knovv this Sorceress must die Ish My Lord your high Resentments are but just But should you perish in th' Attempt Mer. No matter For I 've at once out-lived my Peace and Glory For twelve long years I was the Algerine Victorious Admiral Till all my Services my Toyls and Wounds Forgotten my ungrateful barb'rous King Could cloud me in the Noon of all my Glories And give my Lawrels to the cursed Altomar My Love destroy'd And Honor lost think Ishmael with what small Delight I wear this Load of Flesh and Blood Ish You have but too much reason to complain Mer. Give me kind Stars that favorable Minute When I may stab this pair of Royal Monsters Punish her Scorn and his Ingratitude Though the next hour you made the Vultures Gorge My Sepulchre Ish But Sir You 've served the Father and adored the Daughter And can your Wrongs engender so much Rage Mer. Yes Ishmael yes does not the thirsty Traveller Loath the dear Spring when once the Fountain's poyson'd Ishmael I know thee faithful and dare trust thee Know then I have here that working Vengeance like Wit 's Goddess teeming in the Thund'rers Brain But something ominous foretells my Life Is short though it will make my Fame immortal Yet e'er I die I have a hoarded Mass Of Infinite Wealth which dead I 'll make thee Lord of But if I'scape with Life I have a Vessel Ready i' th Port to fly to Alexandria Where thou my Friend shalt share my Fortunes with me Ish Sir to reward you for this Princely Bounty I have that Story for your Ears shall wing Your inspired Vengeance Mer. Speak my better Genius Ish Know then this Altomar your hated Rival Is the true Heir to th' Empire of Morocco Mer. Ha! Ish You know the Story of that Bloody Empress Whose murther'd Son and poyson'd Husband cleared Her Favorit's Passage to th' Imperial Seat Mer. Go on Ish That Empress to secure his Title And leave no Branch of the Imperial Stock That might in time grow up t' o'ershade his Lustre Design'd to sacrifice the only Reliques O' th' Royal Blood the murder'd Muly Labasses Two Infant Sons My self and Lord Abdalla Now Gayland's General were then Two Favorites in the Morocco Court And th' Empress Confidents And to our Care She trusted the dispatch of the dire deed But we in pity to the Royal Infants And partly for the Hopes of a Reward Convey'd 'em to their Uncle Amurath Cayliff of Egypt Mer. Very well proceed Ish But to avoid all Dangers of the Storm That the revengfull Empress would have rais'd If e'er she knew we had repealed their Doom E'er we disclosed what our rich Present was We swore him first by Alla ne'er to breath Their Story Quality or their true Names To ought in this lower World That done we left 'em Where as his own adopted Sons he bred 'em In that dark Mist even to themselves disguis'd And in pursuit of his Religious Vow Some twelve years since th' old pious Dotard died And left 'em in that Cloud in which he nurs'd ' em Mer. Oh Ishmael thou hast fired my very Soul But art thou sure this mighty Secret's safe Ish Fear not 't is only lodged in our two Breasts And for my part I hate him worse than you For he has done me Wrongs unpardonable For know my Lord at the great Siege of Candy Under the Sultan's Banners I had the Honor To head a Troop of Horse and by ill Fate I had this very Altomar my Colonel Where for I knew not what only a certain Antipathy he bore me by his Influence With the Grand Visier unprovoked uninjured He both cashier'd and banisht me for which I owe him Ruine and would pawn my Soul to pay 't him Mer. Now thou art brave Ish And for Abdalla's talking His Tongue is Sealed with stronger Bonds than mine For should the furious Gayland ever know There lives an Heir of the Imperial Line And by Abdalla saved his Head would pay for 't Mer. Oh Ishmael guard thy Tongue lock up this Secret Close as thy Heart and dearer than thy Life Ish Your Favors would secure a greater Trust Mer. For should it reach the Ears of Abuzelden No doubt 't would soften him to that degree That I should see the cruel Artemira Lodged in my hated prosperous Rival's Arms A Sight would blast me I must make haste my Vengeance is too tardy The Saturnine dull Planet moves too slow But into Deeds I 'll put my faint Desire Drive and spur on my sluggish Orb of Fire Enter King and Artemira Art Ah Royal Sir as you would reign immortal Have Angels ever guard you Heaven love you Men fear you and Virgins pray for you Pity my Pains and this dire Doom recal King Kind Meroin my Friend and Councellor Instruct me how to chide this stubborn Girl Now by my Life I offer her a Diadem An Emperor's Heart with all that dazling Splendor That would both Crown her Youth and bless my Days And would you think it the mean Spirited Wretch Deaf to th' Acceptance of a Courting God-head Starts from a Throne and shrinks into a Shade Art Consider Sir what 't is you would command You give what 't is impossible to take Ah Sir I love the Noble Altomar And with a Faith so true King By Hell she braves me Triumphant in th' incorrigible Shame Mer. Ah Madam were I worthy to advise Your Royal Father pleads with so much Reason Art Peace sawcy Monster am I fall'n so low Because my angry Father is my Torturer Darest thou presume to talk thou black Incendiary But to confute all thou darest say or think Know the least Thought of Altomar I value 'Bove Gayland's Crown and all his Africk World Nay his least Look is worth whole Millions Of such base Lives as this bold Slave 's that hates him Mer. Now all the Poyson of a bloated Toad Blister that Face and purple Plagues new paint it Aside Art Ah Sir what is 't you 'd
thy way to Ruine But I 'll put out th' infatuating Meteor Prepare fond Girl to obey thy Father's Will T' extinguish all thy vaprous wandring Fires And gild thy Brows with an Imperial Diadem Psepare by th' Setting of to morrow's Sun To sleep in Gayland's arms or sleep for ever Alt. Oh hold let not the Breath of Majesty Pronounce those barbarous words as will Un-king you Think think what Cruelty Alb. Take him away Attendants seize him Confine him a close Prisoner to his Chamber The Charge be yours To Morat Alt. Confusion to a Jayl Alb. And to remove all Bars to my Ambition He that amongst you mark me dares but breath One Syllable of this bold Traytor 's Love By Alla the Villain dies And you Morat Perform your Charge If you but let him stir Or in revenge of his defeated Arrogance By Letters or by Messages attempt Ought that may block her way to Gayland's Arms Observe me well thou' rt Food for Dogs and Vultures Art Is this a Father's Voice ye Gods I die Fainting Alt. Oh raise thy drooping head look up fair injured Sweetness And hear those Sounds shall strike Dishonor dead Ungrateful King is this the black Reward Which you return your Conquering Soldiers Toyls Have I for this from all the Ports of Fame Past all the Storms of Fate to make you glorious All dyed your Ocean with the Christian Purple And since you make me vain sent down such Crouds Of your slain Foes to the Infernal Shades Alb. Vain-glorious Fool What if you conquer'd was it not by me Was 't not my Fleet my Arms my Thunder kill'd And I the mighty Genius that inspir'd ' em Take the vain Boaster hence Alt. Yet stay Inspired by thee thy barbarous Genius No. If I subdued 't was Artemira conquer'd For her I fought for her I vanquisht fill'd With her great Love and her immortal Charms I strook my Javelin in the Gates of Death And all the crowding Fates prest out in Arms To aid thy Cause At her dread Name Strength of my arm and Goddess of my Wars Destruction Conquest Ruine hung round my Shield My Cause Life Courage Glory And Guardian Angells all were Artemira's Alb. Proud insolent Boy to make her Vanity As great as thine Her Cause Life Glory Is Gayland's Heart Beneath her Feet a King and Empire lie And 't is a Prize she must accept or die Alt. Oh I am lost Art Hear me but one word If you 're resolv'd I shall be false false to This gallant man the Lord of all my Vows My Loss will break his Heart and I shall be his Murderer You 'll make me crueller than your Venetian Enemies When in a base Return to all his Conquests Your Daughters Scorn must kill your Kingdoms Champion And stab that Heart your Foes could never reach Alt. Great Gods he sees that kneeling Deity Unmoved with all her Prayers Inverted Nature Can man be deaf when Heaven is a Petitioner Art Ah Sir if e'er my gentle Mother pleas'd you If th' only Reliques of her Royal Blood Can move you to Compassion show it now 'T is true dread Si● I know you 'd make me great But what 's Ambition where there 's Love above it You 'd fix me high on an Imperial Seat But if you do you kill me No my Lord My Paradise in him him only lies And Love 's a Flower which once transplanted dies Alb. And this is all the Excuse thy Disobedience Can frame for all thy humble abject Folly Alt. Ah Sir though you have no Remorse for Me Look on that Face that Angel-Beauty weeps The pretious Dew falls from those Suns above O see a Chain of Pearl hangs on those Lids Enough to bribe an angry God to Mercy And have her Tears no Power Alb. Yes Ravisher To the disgrace of her degenerate Soul I see that base born Issue of her Eyes But know fond Girl I 'll drein the muddy Stream Art Yes when you 've broke that Heart from whence it flows Oh my loved Lord. To Altomar Alb. Their very Looks are hatching Treasons Take them away and part the brooding Monsters Alt. Oh hold Gods have those dying drowning Eyes No Power One Look from those fair Lights Is worth ten thousand Gaylands Souls Alb. Dull Slaves Art Lord of my Life Exit forced out Alt. My Saint my Heaven Farewel Exeunt all but Altomar and Morat and two more Attendants What 's Conquest Fame and all the flattering Hopes Of towring Love in their Meridian Light Poor airy Bubbles which the Breath of Power Bursts with a Blast and they are seen no more Ye bright Dispensers of our Humane Fate Bring me but back to those clear Streams of Bliss Which I enjoy'd but one half hour ago And I 'd not change my State of Happiness For all that Vanity your Sun looks round And all those worlds your great first Mover rowls Mor. My Lord I hope you 'll pardon that harsh Office Which I with horror bear Believe me Sir My very Soul deplores your rigid Fate Alt. I thank thee kind Morat but be not troubled Alas I 'm fallen and lost ordain'd for Ruine A miserable thing not worth thy Pity 'T is true Once my blest Hopes stood fair the Candidates Of Glory but alas those Guardian Angels That then smiled on me bore me on their Wings And nurs'd me as the Child and Heir of Fortune Now see my sinking State and like false Friends desert me Mor. Your Fate draws Tears even from a Souldiers Eyes Alt. And can Man pity me when Heaven forsakes me For me no matter if my impurer Blood Were set afloat my drossy worthless Ashes Trod by the Tyrants meanest Slaves to Dirt But oh that Tyrant strikes at Artemira His Savage Fury breaks her tender Heart Take heed ye cruel Powers her Fate ye Gods prevent Or all your Heaven too late will the dire deed repent At her black Doom I shall not sigh alone Your shaking World at her last Pangs will groan The waning Lamps of your pale trembling Skies At her closed Lights will shut their aking Eyes By Heav'ns not your own God-heads shall go free You too shall all my Fellow-mourners be And hang your sad and drooping Heads like me Exeunt ACT II. SCENE II. The Scene a Room of State Meroin andIshmael Disney Mer. THE Cause of all her Pride and Scorn is plain By all the Witchcrafts of the Sex 't is plain 'T is Altomar's the Man No wonder she has Been Deaf to all my Prayers all her warm Gales Were th' happy Altomars whilst nothing but Her Winter Stormy Northern Blasts were mine Ish Wer 't my Cause my Lord I would nor curse nor fret my Spleen in vain Return her Scorn with Scorn Beautie 's a Flower that whilst 't is kind is fragrant But when Disdain has canker'd all its Sweets 'T is a rank weed Mer. A rank one 't is indeed And if that poysonous weed the Bane of all My Peace must root in my curst Rival's Arms Lend
shall plunge below In the black Lake quencht like a hissing Firebrand Alt. Oh speak once more For tho' my shivering Nerves Shake like an Ague they 're such dreadful Accents I scarce dare trust my Ears nor can I think 'T is Artemira's Royal Father speaks King Triumphant Villany he likes the Musick And fain would hear the pleasing Notes repeated Is 't not enough that thou hast broke thy Chains Loosed like a Tyger for thy Mid-nights Prey And stand'st all reeking with her tainted Blood Alt. Her tainted Blood King Silence that Ravens Croak Is this a Place an Hour a Scene for Innocence Gods Why is the Race of Kings the Lines of Heroes With all those mighty Names Descent Nobility Birthright and Power Entrusted to the Truth of that frail Sex Why did you give our undeserving World That Image of your own great God-heads Honor And lodge it in that brittle Creature Woman Alt. How can you wander in this Mist of Hell Can you believe Perdition can you think That I came hither on that black Design Behold that Face and know mistaken King He that dares look upon that awful Vertue Must gaze with Eyes pure as translated Saints His Soul an Altar and each thought an Offering Each Groan a Martyr and each Sigh a Prayer And every burning Wish a Vestal Fire Whilst swacy Flesh and Blood gross brutal Sence Those heavier baser sordid Elements Are beaten to their Earthy Center down And blasted with that dazling Presence die King Bold Slave I 'll hear no more Hope not to wash Thy Sooty Soul nor paint thy blackness white Alt. Yet hear me King could my rebellious heart But entertain one thought to her Dishonor I 'd pluck th' invenom'd Traytor up by th' Roots Burst all the Channels all the Veins of Life Torn up like Conduits in a flaming City To quench my impious and internal Fire King Oh artful Hypocrite shall I permit Such Impudence to talk and live Where are you Slaves Alt Gods that the very best of Men and Kings Should cast a Stain on that Imperial Beauty And meanly think that Chrystal Fountain poison'd King Slaves Traytors Alt. Is this the Charge her Guardian Angels keep Or are th' unthinking drowsie Gods asleep If this Eclipse on her bright Fame can lie Ye Gods why burn the Tapers of your Skie Since Nature's brightest Stamp is thus disgrac'd Why are not all her baser Moulds defac'd Let all things in one joynt confusion lie Mourn Heav'n end World and bleeding Nature die Leave not one Star of that enammell'd 〈…〉 ight But shrowd your Heads in everlasting Night Instead of all Those shining Orbs which your Creation crown'd May nought but Death in the void space be found Goblins and Specters walk th' eternal Round King Where are you Villains tardy Slaves where are you Enter Eunuchs You dull unsinew'd Vassals Eunuchs damn ' em Are these th' Effeminate Guards t' a Ladies Honor Those spightful Dogs who when we blot out Man Write Bawd and Pander in revenge Speak Monsters How got that Traytor Entrance Mirvan Altomar My Lord we know not King No you were removed The amorous Play admitted no Spectators And t' execute her Honor 's tragick Doom The Stage was clear'd for the infernal Scene Go seize that impious They seize him Alt. Take me Slaves Art But one poor Heart and all these Stabs to break it Alt. And now behold your dire Commands obey'd Send me to Death and Sir to banish all Idea's of Remorse if the least Service Of Altomar's whole Life rise to disturb you Stifle the strangled Rebell in its Birth And blot remembrance from your Soul Now kill me Rend my disjointed Bones and make each part A several Martyr every scatter'd Limb A Stranger to the Branch on which it grew Do this and all your utmost Rage can frame So you 'll be kind and right her injured Fame King Take him away Alt. Yet stay stay cruel Judge Since I am doom'd to dye even condemned Murderers Have leave to speak before their Execution King Well you have leave to speak talk to the Winds Alt. If I had been that Villain which you think me And durst attempt to blast her sacred Fame After that Crime what is 't I durst not do I might have let that Traytor cut your Throat And when I 'd seen you groveling on the Floor Have then stept out and sav'd my Royal Mistress That done Her Father dead her Crown and Heart her own Without Controul I might have seiz'd my Prey Have feared no Rival Emperors but revell'd In her soft Arms and triumph'd on her Throne All this I might have done were I a Villain But know mistaken Prince I 've not commanded Your Navy fought your Battels propt your Throne To see my Sovereign die that Sacred Lord That awful Man that gave my Princess Life Must never die whilst I 've a Sword to save him Art Oh Miracle of Vertue King How he tires me Alt. Nay were 't to do again I 'd save your Life Tho' the same hour you doom'd my Death And drag'd my Princess to my Rival's Bed I could not see you bleed I 'd meet a hundred Swords And in my King's Defence stand like a Battery To block their Passage to your precious Life And when they 'd hew'd me like a shatterd Rampart down Each mangled Limb should kiss your Sacred Feet Proud that they 'd sav'd the cruel Albuzeiden For still you 're Artemira's Royal Father King For these kind words to take off all Aspersion Of my Ingratitude I 'll own you 've saved Our Lives and in return I give you yours Mirvan your Charge does not extend to Blood Only confine him to a stronger Gaol And send a Bow string to the false Morat Alt. Oh save the poor Morat If he has sinn'd The Crime was mine be mine the Punishment Kneels King For mine then and my Daughters Life I give You yours and his and now you 're amply paid Not one word more for if you speak he dies Now Rebel Daughter to atone your Sins Assume Obedience for your Sacrifice Prepare to morrow to be Gayland's Bride Alt. Oh my hard Fate Art Ah Sir but think think what dire doom you 've giv'n me Could I consent and at you dread Commands Give him my Hand without my Heart and force My faultering Tongue to speak the binding Words The very Breath that utters 'em will blast me And the accusing conscious God of Marriage Will be so far from aiding at the Ceremony That the very Tapers on the Sacred Altar Will strike those deadly Flashes in my Eyes I shall fall blind at his Imperial Feet And when I 'm drag'd into that dismal Scene The Nuptial Bed instead of Bridal Blushes He 'll find a trembling Wretch beset with Horrors All pale as Death and ghastly as the Grave Is this a Wife fit for a Monarchs Bosom Or this the Doom of your poor Artemira King Leave these vain Tears fantastick weeping Fool Those Glories I 've design'd
Emperor Will raze my City lay my Kingdom waste All buried in one heap of Desolation Alt. Revenge their Tyrant Emperor Yes Sir I kill'd him and so kill'd him that Th' applauding World must justifie the Blow An Emperor like a mean-spirited Slave He came and poorly braved me in my Chains Then in the basest most unmanly fury He struck his Dagger at my naked Breast But from his hand unarm'd I snatch'd the Ponyard And in a brave Defence thus stain'd thus goar'd Tript up the Heels of the Gigantick Coward And with his weight I made his Grave shake under him King Hold Brutish Impudence canst thou plead excuse For this infernal Deed Better a thousand low-born Souls like thine Should float in Shoals through Tides and Seas of Blood Than the least Vein of Majesty should bleed Or a Crown'd Head but ake Alt. A Crown'd Head so at that rate a Villain May be an Emperor at his Coronation Murder and Hell held up the Canopy Whilst Blood and Treason dyed his Royal Purple No Voice of Majesty no Sound of Glory But Massacre Rebellion Desolation King Silence this Blasphemy What profane Breath Has Treason in Despair What if his Dagger Aim'd at thy naked Breast So angry Gods Strike impious Men. Does Thunder aim at Thunder Or should an injured Monarch play the Dueller Thy Pride I 'm sure provok'd his sacred Rage And 't was but just thy forfeit Life should pay for 't Enter Arremira and Women King But bold Assassinate thy impious Fury Could lift thy Hand against the Life of Majesty The best of men thou hast traiterously kill'd And like a Traytor thou shalt die Alt. A Traytor Art Die Oh my startled Soul Alt. No cruel Lord I kill'd him nobly bravely kill'd him King No grapling Roman in Romes Amphitheater Took an encountring Lion by the Throat And tore his Heart out with a Rage more manly King Oh Giant Insolence But I lose Breath he dies and instantly His Execution Achmat be thy Charge First publish him a Traytor to the State Then build a Scaffold in the open Forum A Wrack and Torturers prepared be ready T' appease the Blood of this great murder'd Monarch By all my Hopes th' Assassinate shall die With the same solemn Form of Death our Law And Custom dooms a Traytor to our Crown Alt. Ah Sir you ne'er was barbarous till this Hour Die for an honorable piece of Justice Done in my own Defence and like a Traytor Proclaim'd a Traytor branded and exposed T' a trayterous publick Shame My Death I scorn to fear But to die infamous is more than dying Shame is the only Wound great Souls can feel Art Oh hear me Sir whilst I have Life to speak Look on that Gallant Youth that Mine of Honor Faith Truth and Love the very Soul of Angels And Model of a God Alt. Oh matchless Sweetness Art And must that Throne that bright Celestial Temple Be rased by sacrilegious impious Hands Inhumane King but Oh I can no more Faints King No Traytress thou hast done too much Thy Eyes young Witch light this dire Conflagration And only blaze t' a King and Kingdoms Ruine Art Ah my dear Lord I 'm going unkind heart To break so soon and not to stay for Altomar Swoons Alt. She faints she faints that injur'd Beauty dies Look up my Star shine out dear clouded Brightness Now King thou' rt more than exquisitely cruel For if your Tyranny must break that Heart My Wrongs are Pageants to this last dire Blow King Why Villain let her faint and die what then Sleep on thou Scandal of my Blood sleep on For ever whilst I never sleep again Exit King Alt. Divine sweet Excellence look up and live 'T is thy kind Altomar that bids thee live Art From Deaths cold Sleep what voice of Pity wakes me Ah my dear Lord is 't you What a blest Change Is here Did not my cruel Father Fright my poor Soul away with the Ghastly Vision Of my dear murder'd Lord And do I wake in Altomar's kind Arms Alt. Yes Royal Sweetness thy Tyrannick Father Though he has decreed thy Altomar must die Art Nay then why were my closing Eyes Torn open to behold this hated Light More terrible than Death's eternal Night Alt. Let not the Torrent of thy Sorrow swell Too high Thy Altomar is not so lost He has Glories Pleasures Joys and thy kind Father Has through his burning Rage some Sparks of Pity He has left this Treasure in my dying Arms And kindly crowns the Victim e'er it bleeds Art And must you die I cannot will not bear it Ye angry Gods if this be the Reward Of Truth and Love and unkind Providence Ordains two faithful Hearts a Fate so dismal Poor Love I fear has but few Friends in Heav'n Alt. Indeed my sweetest Saint 't is very hard That I must gaze on those bright Eyes no more Grasp thy dear Knees lie at thy Feet no more Till we shall meet agen above the Stars A very sad long Journey for a Lover But we shall meet agen and what tho' 't is Beyond the Grave To win this glorious Prize The Race can never be too long The way too craggy nor the Goal too far No my best Life the Stars are not so distant Nor are the Battlements of Heav'n too high To scale for so much Beauty Art Oh my Altomar How sad a Story shall we leave behind us Henceforward when some melancholy Virgin Looks out a lonely Cell to mourn and die She 'll read no more the tender mournful Tales Of ravisht Philomel or bleeding Lucrece But turning o'er our more unhappy Loves Read till she has sight her dying Taper out And drown'd her Eyes in Artemira's Woe Oh let me sigh my Soul into thy Arms And powre a flowing Deluge on thy Bosom Alt. Best of thy Sex thou softest Virgin Sweetness Who would not die thus mourn'd thus loved thus pitied With thy kind tender Sighs and melting Eyes Such gentle Showers and fragrant Gales around him When the luxurious Anthony In dissolved Pearl drank Kingdoms at a Draught He lived not with that Pleasure that I die I in this Nectar taste Eternity Enter Achmat and Guards Ach. My Lord I come to make a harsh Divorce Art Oh bloody Tyrant Father Alt. Hold yet stay Ach. My Lord our Haste Alt. Black Instrument of Hell May I not stay to take my last Farewell My only Life a long and last Adieu But he that goes to die sure ought to take His leave upon his Knees So have I seen The Beauteous Image of the Queen of Love Adorn'd with all her Graces her fair Hand Her blushing Cheeks and murmuring Lips all Sweetness And at the Feet of the Celestial Form Her humble Cupid hanging round her Knees Oh Love let me make up that pious Figure Low at the Feet of my dear Goddess bow And mourn and weep till I 'm as blind as thou Ach. Sir our Commission brooks no more delay Alt. Merciless Slaves Art My dearest Altomar
remembrance Your black Ingratitude to your kind King For all the numerous Honors I had given you That glorious Structure my vast Hopes had rais'd Thou hast at one blast blown up And the only Remnant of my Royal Blood Thou hast made for ever wretched Art Wretched can my Altomar's Dear Love make Artemira wretched No Mistaken King I 've loved so well that know To die for Altomar has more of Heav'n in 't Than Ages on the World 's Imperial Throne King Take Hence the Syren Oh Love thou unextinguishable Brand Of Vengeance take her from his Sight be gone She from this Minute ne'er shall see him more Art Stay merciless Villains savage Blood-hounds stay Alt. And art thou gone Exit forced out Snatcht from my panting Side Remorsless King how can you be so cruel To a poor dying Wretch at his last Gasp To tear that Beauty from my bleeding Arms Thro' all the Graves my gaping Wounds can show You never stab'd me till this killing Blow King What Sounds are these Trumpets heard Enter Messenger Mess An Envoy from the Army Enter Envoy Env. Great Sir I come from the Imperial Camp To tell you that the mutinous Souldiers tired With an Usurper's Yoak demand a Successor From the true Royal Line And by their Threats And Clamors to the General Abdalla Have forced him to discover that Prince Altomar A noble Youth residing in your Court But Stranger to his own great Quality Is the true Heir to th' Empire of Morocco And in th' united Peoples Voice I come To call him to a Throne King How Sir is Altomar The Royal Heir to th' Empire of Morocco Env. Yes Sir the Blood of their last murder'd Monarch Muly Labas runs in his Veins his true Name Muly-Mesude but by a borrow'd Title Preserved an Infant in the Court of Egypt T' escape the mortal Rage of the old Bloody Empress King What Words are these Env. But all his Injuries Are cancell'd in his Coronation day From his long Night like a gay Bridal Sun He to his new wedded World sets out in Glory King Oh never never will that morning rise See there that Glorious Sun is set for ever Haste take that Sacred Martyr from the Wrack Be quick ye Slaves They cut him down and set him on a Chair Env. What have ye done King Yes Fates what have I done A deed for which the Furies want a Name Martyr'd a Monarch on a Gibbet Damnation shape me such a Deed in Hell In Vengeance to a base Usurper's Blood Like an infatuated Savage Indian I 've built an Altar to a worshipt Devil And sacrifie'd a King t' a Rebell 's Ghost Alt. And was I born an Empire's Heir for this King Oh Altomar most sacred injured Lord What dismal Wrongs does Heaven ordain for thee What Plagues what Hells for me The only man of all Heav'ns whole Creation That could have made me great my Daughter blest Her Love immortal and my Name eternal I have most barbarously massacred The noblest Blood that Royal Veins e'er held I have let out to drown the sinking World Alt. Ah Sir did you not name your beauteous Daughter For sure methought I felt new Life shoot thro' me King Fly bring that mourning Sweetness to his Arms Tell her her Royal Altomar's hard Fate And her repenting Father's killing Horrors Alt. There 's something in that Breath so kind so wondrous kind Had I more Lives to lose I could forgive 'em all Enter Artemira Art Oh my dear dying Lord Alt. Oh name not dying For thou' rt my Bride and this our Nuptial Day And now let Death and Ruine do their worst One minute in my Artemira's Arms Has all the Raptures of Eternity Art Yes my loved Lord in spite of Fate this day's At once our Nuptial and our Coronation And sure if Love can Crown us in the Stars We shall shine there the brightest Pair in Heav'n Alt. Oh Love what is thy Power Art Now cruel Father Kill'd by my dear Lord's Wounds I 'll save you all Th' Expence of Steel or Poyson for my Fall King No live you best of Lovers live for ever Oh that I could supply from my own Veins That Blood I 've rob'd from thine from my torn Limbs With my own Flesh new cloath thy naked Bones Ye Gods why are your Miracles all ceas'd No Art in Heav'n to save his precious Life Alt. Sir your untimely Kindness comes too late But to acknowledge these last Sparks of Pity You Sir that come t' invite me to a Throne To the Envoy Bear back my dying Sighs to my kind Subjects Tell 'em I have a Brother call'd Cialto A Souldier in the Persian Sophy's Camp Let him be call'd to fill my empty Throne But let him know e'er the Imperial Diadem Circles his radiant Brow that 't is the last Request of his expiring Brother that The Wrongs of Altomar be ne'er remember'd No Schriech-owl Fame dare croak my dying Wounds But let him cherish this dear Sacred Prince For he 's the Father to my Royal Bride And his kind Hand has given me Artemira King Bright Miracle prodigious Goodness Gods Must so much Worth and so much Honor die Alt. Oh stop your violent Griefs Alas great Sir I am your Son we 're both your Children now And cannot bear our drooping Father's Woe Art Oh cruel Sir why are you kind too late Why was not I my dear Lord's Bride till now Why did not your poor Artemira In these dear Arms these circling Glories shine Could nothing but an Empire make him mine Oh the ill judging World King Poor injur'd Girl Art Has he more Love more Charms more Hearts to give me Because he 's Heir t' a Crown Ah no he was To me my King my World my Heaven before And Crowns and Empires could not make him more Alt. Oh Artemira take me on thy Breast My Royal Saint what Heavn of Bliss Should we possess if I had Life to love thee But Oh a Cloud o'ercasts my Rising Sun Just when my Joys begin my Life is done Dies Art He 's gon he 's gon and do I stay behind King Farewell dear martyr'd Saint That parting Sigh that breaks thy Heart stabs mine Art Oh Murder Ruine Horror and Despair That ghastly Scene of Blood Blood did I say Fye these are Ruby Bracelets on his Arms Those Scarlet Love-Knots my kind Father tied To bind two dying bleeding Hearts together King Poor injur'd Innocence look up and live Art Live cruel Father love like me and live Not to be Empress of a thousand Worlds A Love like mine Oh Father Love's a God-head Yes a blind God his Lights all drown'd like mine And is he blind indeed how came he blind Say did he weep his Eyes out for my Altomar Oh my sick Soul King Speak to thy wretched Father Art Ha! is 't my Love that calls me See His mounting Chariot hastens me away I come my Altomar my Life I come Stabs her self Oh see the Gods our Nuptials do prepare See Altomar see Artemira there The Feasting Gods with Bridal Chaplets crownd Whilst to the Poles the jocund Orbs resound And all the Nectar of their Heav'n goes round In thy chaste Arms thy glittering Bride enfold Her Palace archt with Gemms and paved with Gold Dies King Was ever wretched Father damn'd as I am But I am safe his dying Breath forgave me No generous Prince thy Mercy soar'd too high Thou mayest forgive thy Murder but not I. Stabs himself Mor. Why this rash Deed King No 't is a Noble Deed. Should Guilt and Shame survive when Vertue bleeds I 'm but the meanest Wretch this Storm has wrack'd That pair of faithful Lovers died before me When Natures Wealth all her rich Fraught sinks down Surely the Lumber of the World may drown Morat as e'er thou lov'st thy dying King See my Bones lodg'd in that wrong'd Prince's Grave But let me humbly his blest Relicks meet Lay my Head low beneath his Royal Feet Dies Mor. See here the dire Effects of unkind Parents Our whole World bleeds for their unhappy Loves How calm a Stream is Love when unoppos'd But stop'd the impetuous Torrent does o'erturne Whole sinking Kingdoms and makes Empires mourn Exeunt Omnes The EPILOGUE Spoken by Mrs Coysh's Girl as a CUPID LAdies the Poet knew no better way Than to send me to prattle for his Play I am y●ur Cupid and you cannot sure Drive such a small young Beggar from your Door Do you be but as kind as you are fair And by my Quiver Bow and Darts I swear The little Tiny God whose help you want Shall hear your Prayers and all your wishes grant The Country Lady shall come up to Town And shine in her old Coach and her new Gown The City Wife shall leave her poor Tom Farthing And take a harmless Walk to Covent Garden Those very Eyes shall still look young and gay That Conquer'd on the Coronation-day But you the brighter Beauties of the Court You who the World undo but Stage support You shall subdue all Hearts while I sit still I 'll break my Bow and leave your Eyes to kill Nay the Court-Star your Beauties to advance Has left her Dazling Sphere to set in France FINIS