Aureng-Zebe (Act V)

Indamora alone

INDAMORA
The night seems doubled with the fear she brings,
And, o'r the Cittadel, new spreads her wings.
The Morning, as mistaken, turns about,
And all her early fires again go out.
Shouts, cries, and groans, first pierce my ears, and then
A flash of Lightning draws the guilty Scene,
And shows me Arms, and Wounds, and Dying men.
Ah, should my Aureng-Zebe be fighting there,
And envious Winds distinguish'd to my ear,
His dying groans, and his last accents bear!

To her Morat, attended

MORAT
The bloudy bus'ness of the Night is donе,
And, in the Cittadel, an Empire wonn.
Our Swords so wholly did thе Fates employ,
That they, at length, grew weary to destroy:
Refus'd the work we brought; and, out of breath,
Made Sorrow and Despair attend for Death.
But what of all my Conquest can I boast?
My haughty pride, before your eyes, is lost:
And Victory but gains me to present
That Homage, which our Eastern World has sent.

INDAMORA
Your Victory, alas, begets my fears:
Can you not then triumph without my tears?
Resolve me; (for you know my Destiny
In Aureng-Zebe's) say, do I live, or die?

MORAT
Urg'd by my Love, by hope of Empire fir'd;
'Tis true, I have perform'd what both requir'd:
What Fate decreed; for when great Souls are giv'n,
They bear the marks of Sov'reignty from Heav'n.
My Elder Brothers my fore-runners came;
Rough-draughts of Nature, ill design'd, and lame:
Blown off, like Blossoms, never made to bear;
Till I came, finish'd; her last labour'd care.

INDAMORA
This Prologue leads to your succeeding sin:
Bloud ended what Ambition did begin.

MORAT
'Twas rumor'd, but by whom I cannot tell,
My Father scap'd from out the Cittadel:
My Brother too may live.

INDAMORA
---He may.

MORAT
---He must:
I kill'd him not: and a less Fate's unjust.
Heav'n owes it me, that I may fill his room;
A Phoenix-Lover, rising from his Tomb.
In whom you'll lose your sorrows for the dead;
More warm, more fierce, and fitter for your Bed.

INDAMORA
Should I from Aureng-Zebe my heart divide,
To love a Monster, and a Paricide?
These names your swelling Titles cannot hide.
Severe Decrees may keep our Tongues in awe;
But to our thoughts, what Edict can give Law?
Ev'n you your self, to your own breast, shall tell
Your crimes; and your own Conscience be your Hell.

MORAT
What bus'ness has my Conscience with a Crown?
She sinks in Pleasures, and in Bowls will drown.
If mirth should fail, I'll busie her with cares;
Silence, her clamorous voice with louder Wars:
Trumpets and Drums shall fright her from the Throne,
As sounding Cymbals aid the lab'ring Moon.

INDAMORA
Repell'd by these, more eager she will grow;
Spring back more strongly than a Scythian Bowe:
Amidst your Train, this unseen Judge will wait;
Examine how you came by all your State;
Upbraid your impious Pomp; and, in your ear,
Will hallow, Rebel, Tyrant, Murderer.
Your ill-got Pow'r wan looks and care shall bring:
Known but by discontent to be a King.
Of Crouds afraid, yet anxious when alone;
You'l sit and brood your sorrows on a Throne.

MORAT
Birthright's a vulgar road to Kingly sway;
'Tis ev'ry dull-got Elder Brother's way.
Dropt from above, he lights into a Throne;
Grows of a piece with that he sits upon,
Heav'ns choice, a low, inglorious, rightful Drone.
But who by force a Scepter does obtain,
Shows he can govern that which he could gain.
Right comes of course, what e'r he was before;
Murder and Usurpation are no more.

INDAMORA
By your own Laws you such Dominion make,
As ev'ry stronger Pow'r has right to take:
And Paricide will so deform your name,
That dispossessing you will give a claim.
Who next Usurps, will a just Prince appear;
So much your ruine will his Reign endear.

MORAT
I without guilt, would mount the Royal Seat;
But yet 'tis necessary to be great.

INDAMORA
All Greatness is in Virtue understood:
'Tis onely necessary to be good.
Tell me, what is't at which great Spirits aim,
What most your self desire?

MORAT
---Renown, and Fame,
And Pow'r, as uncontrol'd as is my will.

INDAMORA
How you confound desires of good and ill!
For true renown is still with Virtue joyn'd;
But lust of Pow'r lets loose th'unbridl'd mind.
Yours is a Soul irregularly great,
Which wanting temper, yet abounds with heat:
So strong, yet so unequal pulses beat.
A Sun which does, through vapours dimnly shine:
What pity 'tis you are not all Divine!
New molded, thorow lighten'd, and a breast
So pure, to bear the last severest test;
Fit to command an Empire you should gain
By Virtue, and without a blush to Reign.

MORAT
You show me somewhat I ne'r learnt before;
But 'tis the distant prospect of a Shore,
Doubtful in mists; which, like inchanted ground,
Flies from my sight, before 'tis fully found.

INDAMORA
Dare to be great, without a guilty Crown;
View it, and lay the bright temptation down:
'Tis base to seize on all, because you may;
That's Empire, that which I can give away:
There's joy when to wild Will you Laws prescribe,
When you bid Fortune carry back her Bribe:
A joy, which none but greatest minds can taste;
A Fame, which will to endless Ages last.

MORAT
Renown, and Fame, in vain, I courted long;
And still pursu'd 'em, though directed wrong.
In hazard, and in toils, I heard they lay;
Sail'd farther than the Coast, but miss'd my way:
Now you have giv'n me Virtue for my guide;
And, with true Honour, ballasted my Pride.
Unjust Dominion I no more pursue;
I quit all other claims but those to you.

INDAMORA
Oh be not just to halves! pay all you owe:
Think there's a debt to Melesinda too.
To leave no blemish on your after life;
Reward the virtue of a Suff'ring Wife:

MORAT
To love once past, I cannot backward move;
Call yesterday again, and I may love.
'Twas not for nothing I the Crown resign'd;
I still must own a Mercenary mind:
I, in this venture, double gains pursue,
And laid out all my Stock to purchase you.

To them, Asaph Chan

Now, what success? does Aureng-Zebe yet live?

ASAPH
Fortune has giv'n you all that she can give,
Your Brother---

MORAT
---Hold; thou show'st an impious joy,
And think'st I still take pleasure to destroy:
Know, I am chang'd, and would not have him slain.

ASAPH
'Tis past; and you desire his life in vain.
He prodigal of Soul, rush'd on the stroke
Of lifted Weapons, and did wounds provoke:
In scorn of Night, he would not be conceal'd;
His Souldiers, where he fought, his name reveal'd:
In thickest crouds, still Aureng-Zebe did sound:
The vaulted Roofs did Aureng-Zebe' rebound,
Till late, and in his fall, the name was drown'd.

INDAMORA
Wither that hand which brought him to his fate,
And blasted be the tongue which did relate.

ASAPH
His Body---

MORAT
---Cease to inhanse her misery:
Pity the Queen, and show respect to me.
'Tis ev'ry Painters Art to hide from sight,
And cast in shades, what seen would not delight.
To her
Your grief, in me such sympathy has bred,
I mourn; and wish I could recall the dead.
Love softens me; and blows up fires, which pass
Through my tough heart, and melt the stubborn Mass.

INDAMORA
Break, heart; or choak, with sobs, my hated breath;
Do thy own work: admit no forreign death.
Alas! why do I make this useless moan?
I'm dead already, for my Soul is gone.

To them, Mir Baba

MIR
What tongue the terror of this night can tell,
Within, without, and round the Citadel!
A new-form'd Faction does your pow'r oppose;
The Fight's confus'd, and all who meet are foes:
A second clamour, from the Town, we hear;
And the far noise so loud, it drowns the near.
Abas, who seem'd our Friend, is either fled;
Or, what we fear, our Enemies does head:
Your frighted Soldiers scarce their ground maintain.

MORAT
I thank their fury; we shall fight again:
hey rouse my rage; I'm eager to subdue:
'Tis fatal to with-hold my eyes from you.
Exit with the two Omrahs

Enter Melesindas

MELESINDA
Can misery no place of safety know?
The noise pursues me wheresoe'r I go,
As Fate sought onely me, and where I fled,
Aim'd all its Darts at my devoted head.
And let it; I am now past care of life;
The last of Women; an abandon'd Wife.

INDAMORA
Whether Design or Chance has brought you here,
I stand oblig'd to Fortune, or to Fear:
Weak Women should, in danger, herd like Deer.
But say, from whence this new combustion springs?
Are there yet more Morats? more fighting Kings?

MELESINDA
Him from his Mother's love your eyes divide,
And now her Arms the cruel strife decide.

INDAMORA
What strange misfortunes my vext life attend?
Death will be kind, and all my sorrows end.
If Nourmahal prevail, I know my fate.

MELESINDA
I pity, as my own, your hard estate;
But what can my weak charity afford?
I have no longer int'rest in my Lord:
Nor in his Mother, He: she owns her hate
Aloud, and would her self Usurp the State.

INDAMORA
I'm stupifi'd with sorrow, past relief
Of tears: parch'd up, and wither'd with my grief.

MELESINDA
Dry mourning will decays more deadly bring,
As a North Wind burns a too forward Spring.
Give sorrow vent, and let the sluces go.

INDAMORA
My tears are all congeal'd, and will not flow.

MELESINDA
Have comfort; yield not to the blows of Fate.

INDAMORA
Comfort, like Cordials after death, comes late.
Name not so vain a word; my hopes are fled:
Think your Morat were kind, and think him dead.

MELESINDA
I can no more---
Can no more arguments, for comfort, find:
Your boding words have quite o'r-whelm'd my mind.
Clattering of weapons within

INDAMORA
The noise increases, as the Billows rore,
When rowling from afar they threat the Shore.
She comes; and feeble Nature now I find
Shrinks back in danger, and forsakes my mind.
I wish to die, yet dare not death endure;
Detest the Med'cine, yet desire the Cure.
I would have death; but mild, and at command:
I dare not trust him in another's hand.
In Nourmahal's, he would not mine appear;
But arm'd with terror, and disguis'd with fear.

MELESINDA
Beyond this place you can have no retreat:
Stay here, and I the danger will repeat.
I fear not death, because my life I hate:
And envious death will shun th'unfortunate.

INDAMORA
You must not venture.

MELESINDA
---Let me: I may do
My self a kindness, in obliging you.
In your lov'd name, I'll seek my angry Lord;
And beg your safety from his conqu'ring Sword:
So his protection all your fears will ease,
And I shall see him once, and not displease.
Exit

INDAMORA
Oh wretched Queen! what pow'r thy life can save?
A stranger, and unfriended, and a slave!

Enter Nourmahal, Zayda, and Abas, with soldiers

Alas, she's here!
Indamora withdraws to the inner part of the scene

NOURMAHAL
Heartless they fought, and quitted soon their ground,
While ours with easie victory were crown'd.
To you, Abas, my Life and Empire too,
And, what's yet dearer, my Revenge, I owe.

ABAS
The vain Morat, by his own rashness wrought,
Too soon discover'd his ambitious thought;
Believ'd me his, because I spoke him fair,
And pitch'd his head into the ready snare:
Hence 'twas I did his Troops at first admit;
But such, whose numbers could no fears beget;
By them th'Emperor's Party first I slew,
Then turn'd my Arms the Victors to subdue.

NOURMAHAL
Now let the head-strong Boy my will controul:
Virtue's no slave of Man; no Sex confines the Soul:
I, for my self, th'Imperial Seat will gain,
And he shall wait my leisure for his Reign.
But Aureng-Zebe is no where to be found.
And now perhaps in Death's cold arms he lies:
I fought, and conquer'd, yet have lost the prize.

ZAYDA
The chance of War determin'd well the strife,
That rack'd you, 'twixt the Lover and the Wife.
He's dead, whose love had sulli'd all your Reign,
And made you Empress of the World in vain.

NOURMAHAL
No; I my pow'r and pleasure would divide:
The Drudge had quench'd my flames, and then had di'd.
I rage, to think without that Bliss I live;
That I could wish what Fortune would not give:
But, what Love cannot, Vengeance must supply;
She, who bereav'd me of his heart, shall die.

ZAYDA
I'll search: far distant hence she cannot be.
Goes in

NOURMAHAL
This wondrous Master-piece I fain would see;
This fatal Helen, who can Wars inspire,
Make Kings her Slaves, and set the World on fire.
My Husband lock'd his Jewel from my view;
Or durst not set the false one by the true.

Re-enter Zayda, leading Indamora

ZAYDA
Your frighted Captive, ere she dies, receive;
Her Soul's just going else, without your leave.

NOURMAHAL
A fairer Creature did my eyes ne'r see!
Sure she was form'd by Heav'n in spite to me!
Some Angel copi'd, while I slept, each grace,
And molded ev'ry feature from my face.
Such Majesty does from her forehead rise,
Her cheeks such blushes cast, such rays her eyes,
Nor I, nor Envy, can a blemish find;
The Palace is, without, too well design'd:
Conduct me in, for I will view thy mind.
To her
Speak, if thou hast a Soul, that I may see,
If Heav'n can make throughout another Me.

INDAMORA
My tears and miseries must plead my cause;
Kneeling
My words, the terror of your presence awes:
Mortals, in sight of Angels, mute become;
The Nobler Nature strikes th'Inferiour dumb.

NOURMAHAL
The Palm is, by the Foes confession, mine;
But I disdain what basely you resign.
Heav'n did, by me, the outward model build:
Its inward work, the Soul, with rubbish fill'd.
Yet, Oh! th'imperfect Piece moves more delight;
'Tis gilded o'r with Youth, to catch the sight.
The Gods have poorly robb'd my Virgin bloom,
And what I am, by what I was, o'rcome.
Traitress, restore my Beauty and my Charms,
Nor steal my Conquests with my proper Arms.

INDAMORA
What have I done, thus to inflame your hate?
I am not guilty, but unfortunate.

NOURMAHAL
Not guilty, when thy looks my pow'r betray,
Seduce Mankind, my Subject, from my Sway,
Take all my Hearts, and all my Eyes away?
My Husband first; but that I could forgive:
He onely mov'd, and talk'd, but did not live.
My Aureng-Zebe, for I dare own the name,
The glorious sin, and the more glorious flame;
Him, from my beauty, have thy eyes misled,
And starv'd the joys of my expected Bed.

INDAMORA
His love, so sought, he's happy that he's dead.
O had I courage but to meet my Fate;
That short dark passage to a future state;
That melancholly Riddle of a breath.

NOURMAHAL
That something, or that nothing, after death:
Take this, and teach thy self.
Giving a dagger

INDAMORA
Alas!

NOURMAHAL
---Why dost thou shake?
Dishonour not the vengeance I design'd:
A Queen, and own a base Plebeian mind!
Let it drink deep in thy most vital part:
Strike home, and do me reason in thy heart.

INDAMORA
I dare not.

NOURMAHAL
---Do't, while I stand by and see,
At my full gust, without the drudgery.
I love a Foe, who dares my stroke prevent,
Who gives me the full Scene of my content,
Shows me the flying Soul's convulsive strife,
And all the anguish of departing life:
Disdain my mercy, and my rage defie;
Curse me with thy last breath; and make me see
A Spirit worthy to have Rival'd me.

INDAMORA
Oh, I desire to die; but dare not yet:
Give me some respite, I'll discharge the debt.
Without my Aureng-Zebe I would not live.

NOURMAHAL
Thine, Traitress! thine! that word has wing'd thy fate,
And put me past the tedious forms of hate.
I'll kill thee with such eagerness and haste,
As Fiends, let loose, would lay all Nature waste.
Indamora runs back: as Nourmahal is running to her. Clashing of Swords is heard within.

SOLDIER Within
Yield, y'are o'rpow'r'd: resistance is in vain.

MORAT Within
Then death's my choice: submission I disdain.

NOURMAHAL At the door
Retire, you Slaves: Ah whether does he run
On pointed Swords? Disarm, but save my Son.

Enter Morat staggering, and upheld by Souldiers.

MORAT
She lives! and I shall see her once again!
I have not thrown away my life in vain.
Catches hold of Indamora's Gown, and falls by her: she sits.
I can no more; yet, ev'n in death, I find
My fainting body byass'd by my mind:
I fall toward you; still my contending Soul
Points to your breast, and trembles to its Pole.

To them Melesinda, hastily, casting her self on the other side of Morat.

MELESINDA
Ah wo, wo, wo! the worst of woes I find!
Live still: Oh live; live ev'n to be unkind.
With half-shut eyes he seeks the doubtful day;
But, Ah! he bends his sight another way.
He faints! and in that sigh his Soul is gone;
Yet Heaven's unmov'd, yet Heav'n looks careless on.

NOURMAHAL
Where are those Pow'rs which Monarchs should defend?
Or do they vain Authority pretend,
O'r humane Fates, and their weak Empire show,
Which cannot guard their Images below?
If, as their Image, he was not Divine,
They ought to have respected him as mine.
I'll waken them with my revenge; and she
Their Indamora shall my Victim be,
And Helpless Heav'n shall mourn in vain, like me.
As she is going to stab Indamora, Morat raises himself, and holds her hand.

MORAT
Ah, what are we,
Who dare maintain with Heav'n this wretched strife,
Puft with the pride of Heav'ns own gift, frail life?
That blast which my ambitious Spirit swell'd,
See by how weak a Tenure it was held!
I onely stay to save the Innocent:
Oh envy not my Soul its last content.

INDAMORA
No, let me die; I'm doubly summon'd now;
First, by my Aureng-Zebe; and, since, by you.
My Soul grows hardy, and can death endure:
Your Convoy makes the dang'rous way secure.

MELESINDA
Let me, at least, a Funeral Marriage crave;
Nor grudge my cold embraces in the Grave.
I have too just a Title in the strife:
By me, unhappy me, he lost his life:
I call'd him hither; 'twas my fatal breath;
And I the Screech-Owl that proclaim'd his death.
Shout within

ABAS
What new Alarms are these? I'll haste and see.
Exit

NOURMAHAL
Look up, and live: an Empire shall be thine.

MORAT
That I contemn'd, ev'n when I thought it mine.
Oh, I must yield to my hard Destinies,
To Indamora
And must for ever cease to see your eyes.

MELESINDA
Ah turn your sight to me, my dearest Lord!
Can you not one, one parting look afford?
Ev'n so unkind in death? but 'tis in vain;
I lose my breath, and to the Winds complain:
Yet 'tis as much in vain your cruel scorn;
Still I can love, without this last return.
Nor Fate, nor You, can my vow'd faith controul;
Dying, I'll follow your disdainful Soul:
A Ghost, I'll haunt your Ghost; and, where you go,
With mournful murmurs fill the Plains below.

MORAT
Be happy, Melesinda, cease to grieve,
And, for a more deserving Husband, live:
Can you forgive me?

MELESINDA
---Can I! Oh my heart!
Have I heard one kind word before I part?
I can, I can forgive: is that a task
To love, like mine? Are you so good to ask?
One kiss---Oh 'tis too great a blessing this;
Kisses him
I would not live to violate the bliss.

Re-enter Abas

ABAS
Some envious Devil has ruin'd us yet more:
The Fort's revolted to the Emperor;
The Gates are open'd, the Portcullis drawn;
And deluges of Armies, from the Town,
Come pow'ring in: I heard the mighty flaw,
When first it broke; the crowding Ensigns saw,
Which choak'd the passage; and, (what least I fear'd,)
The waving Arms of Aureng-Zebe appear'd,
Display'd with your Morat's:
In either's Flag the golden Serpents bear,
Erected Crests alike, like Volumes rear,
And mingle friendly hissings in the Air.
Their Troops are joyn'd, and our destruction nigh.

NOURMAHAL
'Tis vain to fight, and I disdain to flie.
I'll mock the Triumphs which our Foes intend;
And, spite of Fortune, make a glorious end.
In pois'nous draughts my liberty I'll find:
And from the nauseous World set free my mind.
Exit

At the other end of the Stage, Enter Aureng-Zebe, Dianet, and Attendants. Aureng-Zebe turns back, and speaks, entring.

AURENG-ZEBE
The lives of all, who cease from combat, spare;
My Brother's be your most peculiar care:
Our impious use no longer shall obtain;
Brothers no more, by Brothers, shall be slain.
Seeing Indamora and Morat
Ha! do I dream? is this my hop'd success?
I grow a Statue, stiff, and motionless.
Look, Dianet; for I dare not trust these eyes;
They dance in mists, and dazle with surprise.

DIANET
Sir, 'tis Morat; dying he seems, or dead:
And Indamora's hand---

AURENG-ZEBE
---Supports his head.
Sighing
Thou shalt not break yet heart, nor shall she know
My inward torments, by my outward show;
To let her see my weakness were too base;
Dissembled Quiet sit upon my face:
My sorrow to my eyes no passage find,
But let it inward sink, and drown my mind.
Falshood shall want its Triumph: I begin
To stagger; but I'll prop my self within.
The specious Tow'r no ruine shall disclose,
Till down, at once, the mighty Fabrick goes.

MORAT To Indamora
In sign that I die yours, reward my love,
Kissing her hand
And seal my Pasport to the Bless'd above.

INDAMORA
Oh stay; or take me with you when you go:
There's nothing now worth living for below.

MORAT
I leave you not; for my expanded mind
Grows up to Heav'n, while it to you is joyn'd:
Not quitting, but enlarg'd! A blazing Fire,
Fed from the Brand.
Dies

MELESINDA
Ah me! he's gone! I die!
Swoons

INDAMORA
---Oh dismal day!
Fate, thou hast ravish'd my last hope away.
O Heav'n! my Aureng-Zebe
She turns, and sees Aureng-Zebe standing by her, and starts.
What strange surprise!
Or does my willing mind delude my eyes,
And shows the Figure always present there?
Or liv'st thou? am I bless'd, and see thee here?

AURENG-ZEBE
My Brother's body see convey'd with care,
Turning from her, to his Attendants

Where we may Royal Sepulture prepare.
With speed to Melesinda bring relief;
Recal her spirits, and moderate her grief.---
Half turning to Indamora

I go, to take for ever from your view
Both the lov'd Object, and the hated too.
Going away after the Bodies, which are carried off.

INDAMORA
Hear me; yet think not that I beg your stay:
Laying hold of him
I will be heard, and after take your way.
Go; but your late repentance shall be vain:
He struggles still; She lets him go.
I'll never, never see your face again.
Turning away

AURENG-ZEBE
Madam, I know what ever you can say:
You might be pleas'd not to command my stay.
All things are yet disorder'd in the Fort;
I must crave leave your audience may be short,

INDAMORA
You need not fear I shall detain you long;
Yet you may tell me your pretended wrong.

AURENG-ZEBE
Is that the bus'ness? then my stay is vain.

INDAMORA
How are you injur'd?

AURENG-ZEBE
---When did I complain?

INDAMORA
Leave off your forc'd respect---
And show your rage in its most furious form:
I'm arm'd with innocence to brave the Storm.
You heard, perhaps, your Brother's last desire;
And after saw him in my arms expire:
Saw me, with tears, so great a loss bemoan:
Heard me complaining my last hopes were gone.

AURENG-ZEBE
Oh stay, and take me with you when you go.
There's nothing now worth living for below.
Unhappy Sex! whose Beauty is your snare;
Expos'd to trials; made too frail to bear.
I grow a fool, and show my rage again:
'Tis Nature's fault; and why should I complain?

INDAMORA
I wait till this long storm be over-blown.

AURENG-ZEBE
I'm conscious of my folly: I have done.
I cannot rail; but silently I'll grieve.
How did I trust! and how did you deceive!
Oh, Arimant, would I had di'd for thee!
I dearly buy thy generosity.

INDAMORA
Alas, is he then dead?

AURENG-ZEBE
---Unknown to me,
He took my Arms; and while I forc'd my way,
Through Troops of Foes, which did our passage stay,
My Buckler o'r my aged Father cast,
Still fighting, still defending as I past,
The noble Arimant usurp'd my name;
Fought, and took from me, while he gave me, fame.
To Aureng-Zebe, he made his Souldiers cry,
And seeing not, where he heard danger nigh,
Shot, like a Star, through the benighted Sky.
A short, but mighty aid: at length he fell.
My own adventures 'twere lost time to tell;
Or how my Army, entring in the night,
Surpris'd our Foes: the dark disorder'd fight:
How my appearance, and my Father shown,
Made peace; and all the rightful Monarch own.
I've summ'd it briefly, since it did relate
Th'unwelcome safety of the man you hate.

INDAMORA
As briefly will I clear my innocence:
Your alter'd Brother di'd in my defence.
Those tears you saw, that tenderness I show'd,
Were just effects of grief and gratitude.
He di'd my Convert.

AURENG-ZEBE
---But your Lover too:
I heard his words, and did your actions view;
You seem'd to mourn another Lover dead:
My sighs you gave him, and my tears you shed.
But worst of all,
Your gratitude for his defence was shown:
It prov'd you valu'd life when I was gone.

INDAMORA
Not that I valu'd life; but fear'd to die:
Think that my weakness, not inconstancy.

AURENG-ZEBE
Fear show'd you doubted of your own intent:
And she who doubts becomes less innocent.
Tell me not you could fear;
Fear's a large promiser, who subject live
To that base passion, know not what they give.
No circumstance of grief you did deny;
And what could she give more who durst not die?

INDAMORA
My love, my faith.

AURENG-ZEBE
---Both so adult'rate grown,
When mix'd with fear, they never could be known.
I wish no ill might her I love befall;
But she ne'r lov'd who durst not venture all.
Her life and fame should my concernment be;
But she should onely be afraid for me.

INDAMORA
My heart was yours; but, Oh! you left it here,
Abandon'd to those Tyrants, Hope and Fear:
If they forc'd from me one kind look or word,
Could you not that, not that small part afford?

AURENG-ZEBE
If you had lov'd, you nothing yours could call:
Giving the least of mine, you gave him all.
True love's a Miser; so tenacious grown,
He weighs to the least grain of what's his own.
More delicate than Honour's nicest sense:
Neither to give nor take the least offence.
With, or without you, I can have no rest:
What shall I do? y'are lodg'd within my breast:
Your Image never will be thence displac'd;
But there it lies, stabb'd, mangled, and defac'd.

INDAMORA
Yet, to restore the quiet of your heart,
There's one way left.

AURENG-ZEBE
---Oh name it.

INDAMORA
---'Tis to part.
Since perfect bliss with me you cannot prove,
I scorn to bliss by halves the man I love.

AURENG-ZEBE
Now you distract me more: shall then the day,
Which views my Triumph, see our loves decay?
Must I new bars to my own joy create?
Refuse, my self, what I had forc'd from Fate?
What though I am not lov'd?
Reason's nice taste does our delights destroy:
Brutes are more bless'd, who grosly feed on joy.

INDAMORA
Such endless jealousies your love pursue,
I can no more be fully bless'd than you.
I therefore go, to free us both from pain:
I pris'd your Person, but your Crown disdain.
Nay, ev'n my own---
I give it you; for since I cannot call
Your heart my Subject, I'll not Reign at all.
Exit

AURENG-ZEBE
Go: though thou leav'st me tortur'd on the Rack,
'Twixt Shame and Pride, I cannot call thee back.
She's guiltless, and I should submit; but Oh!
When she exacts it, can I stoop so low?
Yes; for she's guiltless;---but she's haughty too
Great Souls long struggle ere they own a crime:
She's gone; and leaves me no repenting time.
I'll call her now; sure, if she loves, she'll stay;
Linger at least, or not go far away,
Looks to the door, and returns
For ever lost, and I repent too late.
My foolish pride, would set my whole Estate,
Till, at one throw, I lost all back to Fate.

To him the Emperor, drawing in Indamora: Attendants.

EMPEROR
It must not be, that he, by whom we live,
Should no advantage of his gift receive.
Should he be wholly wretched? he alone,
In this bless'd day, a day so much his own?
To Indamora
I have not quitted yet a Victor's right:
I'll make you happy in your own despight.
I love you still; and if I struggle hard
To give, it shows the worth of the reward.

INDAMORA
Suppose he has o'rcome; must I find place
Among his conquer'd Foes, and sue for grace?
Be pardon'd, and confess I lov'd not well?
What though none live my innocence to tell?
I know it: Truth may own a gen'rous pride:
I clear my self, and care for none beside.

AURENG-ZEBE
Oh, Indamora, you would break my heart!
Could you resolve, on any terms, to part?
I thought your love eternal: was it ti'd
So loosly, that a quarrel could divide?
I grant that my suspitions were unjust;
But would you leave me for a small distrust?
Forgive those foolish words---
Kneeling to her
They were the froth my raging folly mov'd,
When it boil'd up: I knew not then I lov'd;
Yet then lov'd most.

INDAMORA To Aureng-Zebe
You would but half be blest!
Giving her hand, smiling.

AURENG-ZEBE
---Oh do but try
My eager love: I'll give my self the lie.
The very hope is a full happiness;
Yet scantly measures what I shall possess.
Fancy it self, ev'n in enjoyment, is
But a dumb Judge, and cannot tell its bliss.

EMPEROR
Her eyes a secret yielding do confess,
And promise to partake your happiness.
May all the joys I did my self pursue,
Be rais'd by her, and multipli'd on you.

A Procession of Priests, Slaves following, and last Melesinda in white.

INDAMORA
Alas! what means this Pomp?

AURENG-ZEBE
'Tis the Procession of a Funeral Vow,
Which cruel Laws to Indian Wives allow,
When fatally their Virtue they approve;
Chearful in flames, and Martyrs of their Love.

INDAMORA
Oh my foreboding heart! th'event I fear;
And see! sad Melesinda does appear.

MELESINDA
You wrong my love; what grief do I betray?
This is the Triumph of my Nuptial day.
My better Nuptials; which, in spight of Fate,
For ever joyn me to my dear Morat.
Now I am pleas'd; my jealousies are o'r:
He's mine; and I can lose him now no more.

EMPEROR
Let no false show of Fame your reason blind.

INDAMORA
You have no right to die; he was not kind.

MELESINDA
Had he been kind, I could no love have shown:
Each vulgar Virtue would as much have done.
My love was such, it needed no return;
But could, though he suppli'd no fuel, burn.
Rich in it self, like Elemental fire,
Whose pureness does no Aliment require.
In vain you would bereave me of my Lord;
For I will die: die is too base a word;
I'll seek his breast, and kindling by his side,
Adorn'd with flames, I'll mount a glorious Bride.
Exit

Enter Nourmahal distracted, with Zayda.

ZAYDA
She's lost, she's lost! but why do I complain
For her, who generously did life disdain!
Poison'd, she raves---
Th'invenom'd Body does the Soul attack;
Th'invenom'd Soul works its own poison back.

NOURMAHAL
I burn, I more than burn; I am all fire:
See how my mouth and nostrils flame expire.
I'll not come near my self---
Now I'm a burning Lake, it rowls and flows;
I'll rush, and pour it all upon my Foes.
Pull, pull that reverend piece of Timber near:
Throw't on---'tis dry---'twill burn---
Ha, ha! how my old Husband crackles there!
Keep him down, keep him down, turn him about:
I know him; he'll but whiz, and strait go out.
Fan me, you Winds: what, not one breath of Air?
I burn 'em all, and yet have flames to spare.
Quench me: pour on whole Rivers. 'Tis in vain:
Morat stands there to drive 'em back again:
With those huge Bellows in his hands, he blows
New fire into my head: my Brain-pan glows.
See, see! there's Aureng-Zebe too takes his part;
But he blows all his fire into my heart.

AURENG-ZEBE
Alas, what fury's this?

NOURMAHAL
---That's he, that's he!
Staring at him, and catching at him
I know the dear man's voice:
And this my Rival, this the cursed she.
They kiss; into each others arms they run:
Close, close, close! must I see, and must have none?
Thou art not hers: give me that eager kiss.
Ingrateful! have I lost Morat for this?
Will you?---before my face?---poor helpless I
See all, and have my Hell before I die!
Sinks down

EMPEROR
With thy last breath thou hast thy crimes confest:
Farewel; and take, what thou ne'r gav'st me, rest.
But you, my Son, receive it better here:
Giving him Indamora's hand
The just rewards of Love and Honour wear.
Receive the Mistris you so long have serv'd;
Receive the Crown your Loialty preserv'd.
Take you the Reins, while I from cares remove,
And sleep within the Chariot which I drove.