this young Imp and that tall Fiend to guard him Joh. Hold Sir we understand your provocations And therefore can forgive these wild Excursions But to restore your peace you shall have Justice Sax. I will have Justice Priest John First I consider you 're the Heir of Saxony And to all Princely Blood my Soul pays Honour Next you have a Father lost a murder'd Father And to all Greatness in Distress Humanity Commands my Pity Lastly I am a Church-man And should disgrace the Sacred Robe I wear Should I attempt to stop the course of Justice Or make the groaning Ghost of Saxony Unsatisfied Well Sir I am your Mark Now name me both my Judge and my Tribunal Sax. Bold Cardinal I take you at your word And bring my Cause before the Consistory There if thou darest appear John Dare yes as cheerfully As a young Lover on his Bridal Night But meet me quickly there For know young Prince I am your Accuser now and not you mine Your Tongue has rais'd a Blister on my Name Canker'd my Glory with the Brand of Murd'rer Nor can I come too soon to 'th Ear of Justice Make haste young Duke for I have a wounded Fame Must be made whole again Sax. Yes my brisk Prelate Meet me this hour John This hour I 'll meet you there Sax. And then Exit Saxony John How I could laugh at this poor Animal Do hunt me close and scent thy Father's Blood But know hot fool I have the Priest to play yet A Roman Dance to lead you I could hug my self For my rare Mischiefs Oh my fertile Brain Why was not I the first created Woman 'Sdeath I 'd have met the subtle plotting Serpent And by my Arts blown up the shallow Fiend Thus from its doom the threatned world recall And countermine the lost Creations fall Exeunt The Scene changes to the Consistory First Cardinal Brethren and Partners in this Royal Sessions This Fair Divine Assembly in the Name Of Albert Duke of Saxony I bring a Cause before this great Tribunal Worthy the Ear of Heav'n his Princely Father's Murder Card. 2. My Lord of Millains Reverenceship speaks well But why my Lord this Tryal at this hour Think of the properer Business of the Day The new Election of our Heavenly Vicar Does not that Throne stand empty By my holy Dame 'T is fit that first we set a Head on headless Rome Card. 3. My good Lord Cardinals Reasons would be just In any case but this but know my Lord It is a member of our own Society That stands accused the Cardinal of Rhemes And shall we entertain a Murderer Within these Sacred Walls and at this time too When Heavens Commissions are just issuing out To chuse a Brow from out this Royal Synod To wear th' Imperial Mitre and to Reign Romes Lord Heavens Chancellor and the great Keeper Of the bright Seals of Paradice And shall we Amongst this glorious Constellation harbour A Murderer have his black impious hand Be mix'd amongst these Princely Candidates And grasp at th'hallowed Roman Diadem Card. 3. You my good Lord of Millain speak the sense Of the whole Consistory We and Heaven Do think it just that the infected Body Be purged before we consecrate the Head Stand forth then Albert Duke of Saxony And John Lord Cardinal of Rhemes stand forth Enter on one side the Stage the Duke of Saxony on the other John Lord Cardinal of Rhemes with their respective Train Sax. Most Reverend Lords Romes ever awful Senate From whose wide Rays of never setting Glory Truth Faith Religion gild th'enlightned Globe Hither I bring to your divinest Justice A Treason of the deepest blackest Dye That Night e'er shelter'd or the day ere blush'd at Committed by that impious Prelate John Lord Cardinal of Rhemes Card. 2. Boldly and bravely Sax. But e'er I prove the monstrous Fact I have One Grace to beg from this Devout Assembly Not that I need to beg it 'T is a Boon You 'll grant unask'd and yet my zeal must speak Card. 1. Speak freely ask with reason and obtain Sax. Then I implore that not the Brother-Name Of Cardinal his Title Robe or Office Plead for him make this whole untainted Body Be over tender of a gangreen'd Limb Because a part of it self Card. 4. My Lord you wrong us Know who we are Heavens Representatives And can you think the Tree of Paradice Would ever cherish a rank spurious Branch Or we permit a bloody wounded Straggler To herd for shelter ' mongst the purer Flock No Saxony we drive him out and give him An open Field and Law for Life or Death Card. 1. Now Duke of Saxony plead and be heard Sax. Thus then that now Lord Cardinal of Rhemes Seven years ago a Benedictine Monk Was Confessor to my unhappy Father That Cardinal now disguised by the false name Of John more like a Robber than a Christian Was then call'd Theodore 'T was in that name He grew acquainted with my Princely Father Thus blest thus honoured by a rise so sudden He won so far my Royal Father's Favour His Ear his Hand his Soul was all his own But by what Magick Arts so false a Snake Could twine within that Royal Princes Heart Just Heaven above and his own Hells within him Can only tell Card. 2. To this your Answer Lord. John Thus far I own my brave Accuser just I was this Prince's Father's Confessor His Favourite Friend Confident Nay the whole Circle of his Deeds Thoughts Councils All center'd in my heart Sax. And in return To all this Honour hear his black Ingratitude One Evening a curs'd hour damn'd from Eternity This treacherous Sycophant being alone With my unhappy Father in his Closet To make their privacy more cheerful A Bowl of Wine was call'd for and about Three hours this Conference held till night adjourn'd The Consult and so silenc'd 'em to Bed Thus parted scarce the Morning Sun could wake Or frighted waked too soon but this Allarm Fill'd the whole Court the Duke the Duke is poysoned We found him raving all his Veins on Fire His restless Bed more like his Funeral Pile His Priest being call'd we found his Chamber empty By th'help of night the Hellish Fiend was vanish'd But oh he had left his Sulphurous Brand behind him For that was burning in my Father's Heart Card. 2. There 's horror in this Deed. Now by my Holy Dame A thundring Accusation But what proofs What Witnesses for all this Tragick Story Sax. All his Attendants Nobles Menials almost The whole sad Court of Saxony were all Spectators of their Royal Masters Fall But let these few the Representatives Of a whole Mourning Dukedom speak their knowledge Card. 3. Stand forth and speak One of the Attendants steps out Att. 1. To these blest Walls I bow Romes ever Sacred Vatican Card. 1. What art thou Att. 1. A Gentleman for twenty years a Servant To the great Dukes of Saxony Card. 3. Are they all sworn Priest My Lord
mean a Trifle as a Play may intrude under your Lordship's Roof this of all Poems may most presume for 't is your Creature and owes its very being to your Lordship for as Plays and Poetry should make the discountenancing of the greatest Vices their chiefest Theme 't is your Lordship's unmasking of Rome that gave me the Light to chuse my Story And 't is by your Lordship's influence too that it now appears in publick for had not your Lordship been an English Cicero and by your timely Wisdom and Eloquence stood up in your Countries Deliverance by this time perhaps our Catalines had been victorious and then the melancholy Muses must have cryed Inter Arma silent Artes. Or if at last the Theatre had e're revived again this prophane Heretical Play must never have dared to have looked Light i' th' face But if any of my Critical Readers should tell me that I have laid more to the charge of my Petticoat-Pope than Story will warrant if such an Objection be I have onely this way to make my Excuse and rectifie my Mistake that is by begging her Successors to share it amongst 'em for there have been Birds enough of that Feather through all Ages to challenge all the borrow'd Plumes I have given her were they ten times as many as they are But now as I am a Stranger to your Lordship should your Lordship ask who this bold Presumer is that lays this Poem at your feet I am a Thing so nameless and so inconsiderable that I can onely describe my self by Negatives And first I am no Temporizer as your Lordship may believe by the choice of my Subject next I am no Politician for that Scribler must have no prospect to his Interest who dares affront so numerous a Party that are so powerful a Support of the Stage and lastly I am no Hypocrite for I write as I think nor am I like Clodpate's Fidler that sings against his Conscience I believe this plain dealing may have gain'd me a great many Enemies but I cannot be concern'd at their Malice since it gives me the glory of publishing my self My Lord Your Lordship 's most obedient and most humbly devoted Servant Elkanah Settle Actors Names John Lord Cardinal of Rhemes originally a German Lady named Joanna Anglica afterwards disguis'd in the habit of a Priest of the Benedictine Order next a Cardinal and lastly created Pope Lorenzo a Courtier of a mean Extract preferr'd by the lust of Cardinal John and privately her Inamorato Amiran a woman in the habit of a Page a sworn Confident to the Intrigue of Lorenzo and Rhemes The Duke of Saxony at present a Guest in Rome brought thither for the love of a beautiful Roman Lady called Angeline to whom he is newly married Angeline his Dutchess Carlo his Servant The Consistory of Cardinals The old Duke of Saxony's Ghost Priests Hereticks Romans Witnesses with Messengers Servants and all other Attendants The SCENE ROME Pope John VIII etc ACT I. Saxony and Angeline with Attendants Sax. MY dearest Angeline my softest Bride Oh never did the Rising Sun salute A man more happy or a day more glorious Last night our Nuptial Coronation night Oh the vast Scenes of my immortal Joys To what high Orb of Glory am I wrapt So a translated Soul caught up to Heaven Stands on the Battlements of his new Paradise And with a wondring eye surveys how far He has left the distant under-world beneath him Ang. My dearest Lord this is extremely kind And I methinks have such an equal share In my dear Lords delight that oh my Lord Something I had to say but I want words Oh let my Blushes speak the rest for I am Too young in Love to talk Sax. Blush on sweet Innocence Blush till thy burning Cheeks Glow like the Incense on a Vestal Fire Then in my Arms let thy warm sweets expire But tho' I am Encircled round with all the Harmony Of Soveraignty Power Wealth and Honours Whilst Fortune sings above and pleasures dance around me Nay to summ all though I have Thee a Treasure So far above th' enjoyment of a Crown For Crowns the world has brighter Beauties none Yet with all these I am not intirely happy Oh Angeline I had a Father Whose Blood whose Royal Blood is unrevenged Ang. And does that melancholy thought arise At this untimely hour Sax. Yes my sweet Angeline I had a Father A Prince so Excellent so truly Noble Too good for this base world and yet from this Base world too early ravish'd to the Stars For in reward of all his manly Virtues Was this unhappy Prince most basely poysoned Nay poysoned by a Priest his savage Confessor That cursed Slave that fed upon his Smiles Fill'd the dire Bowl and whilst the canting Villain Was whispering Heaven into his Ear could lift Damnation to his Lips but by what motives To such Ingratitude Heaven only knows Ang. My Lord I cannot blame your Noble Piety But now consider seven long years are past And in that time the mourning Robe should sure Be quite worn out Sax Never my Angeline Methinks I've still the poysoner in my eye That white-faced Dog that venom-mouth'd Mungril None of our burly strutting Gown-men Who pamper'd with the Roman Altars Luxury Swell and grow fat with the rich Churches Riot But a thin meagre Eunuch-featur'd Starvling Lean even with surfeiting his Looks as pale As Envy but his Soul as black as Hell Ang. Why these rough blasts t'uncalm your sweeter Airs What though the Villain could escape your fury And by his flight protect his impious head For seven long years concealed from your just Rage No doubt ere this Heaven 's longer Arm has reach'd him And finished your imperfect Vengeance for you Punishing his Crimes by his untimely Fate Sax. That 's not enough t' appease a Father's Ghost Blood requires blood and vengeance weilds a Sword That cuts on both sides Guilt should find Pains on earth as well as Plagues in Hell But where the safe Offenders lives Till the slow hand of Chance or Nature strikes It blunts one edge of Fate Ang. Divert this sullen thought And tell me who amongst our Bustling Cardinals That flock from all the Corners of the world To tug for Rome's bright Tripple Diadem You think will next succeed Sax. I neither know nor care But could they chuse a Pope that had the Keys Of Hell as well as Heav'n and would be kind And lock that Poysoner from the infernal Jayl Till I had but one dear pull at 's Heart-strings Next my dear Angeline I 'd chuse no Saint On this side Heaven but him Enter several Cardinals crossing the Stage Ang. Still my loved Lord you make Your self and your poor Angeline uneasie But see the Cardinals flock to the Conclave Now were I Confessor to these grave Lords I would lay odds there 's not that Priest amongst 'em But has so great an Itch to be a Pope That on my conscience he 'd shake hands
design'd to fright our ancient Foe The warlike Vandal Rhemes That was the pretence But Romes Subversion and Religion's Ruine Was the Design Card. 4. And my good Lord of Rhemes 'T was in prevention of a dangerous Heresie And to revenge our injured Church you gave The Duke this poyson Rhemes Yes my Lord I did But oh it grieved my Soul to kill my Prince My Friend my Patron nay my generous Patron But in a cause so just for Romes bright Glory Our Mother Churches Right I 'd not have spared a Brother Father Friend Soveraign in a cause so good Kingdoms should groan and Monarch's set in Blood Card. 1. Come to our Arms Card. 2. T' our Arms dear Lord of Rhemes Hugging him Card. 3. Religions Bulwark Card. 4. Truth 's Defender welcome Card. 1. Romes Patriot and Heaven's Champion ever welcome Bright Son of Fame we and our Saints are all Your Debtors for this meritorious Service Sax. Is this your Doom Churchmen you call your selves Is this a Church Reward for murder'd Majesty Oh I could rave but Lords I 'll reason calmly Grant those false Libellers and this poysoner honest Yes grant my Father that lewd thing they paint him Nay more suppose th' Almighty Rome has power To judge a King and doom a Soveraign Head Card. 1. Suppose it Saxon Sax. Yes suppose it Priest Were he a Criminal why were not all Those intercepted Letters sent to Rome And he as an Offender fairly tried Call'd to the Bar to Romes King-killing Bar And his Accusers met him face to face Rhemes T' have waged in publick ' gainst so great an Adversary Had been t' have had our Cause and martyr'd Throats Both silenced Treason hush'd Truth undiscovered And Rome for ever unrevenged Card. 1. How German A private man impeach an Heretick King Call him to Law and face to face convict him Does the weak Traveller face the roaring Lion Or spotted Leopard and grapple Arm to Arm No foolish Prince Does he not straight fly to some hollow Cave Or climb some Cedars Top from whose safe stand Does he not watch a lucky hour and shoot Th' unwary Savage dead or in a Foyl The snared Devourer seize and Sir Are Heretick Kings less Brutes less Savages Than Lions Tygers Leopards or less To be destroyed than they or must Rome kill By open hostile Arms The Churches strength Lies not in Spear or Launce or ponderous Steel A Pebble slung from out a righteous hand May strike a Giant dead Sax. How Roman Prelates Are these your Principles Some pitying Saint keep in my boiling rage And wall me round with Adamant Church Hypocrites false Bastard Prophets hear me Card. 1. Take him away and stop the Railer's Mouth Card. 2. No let him stay and hear the voice of Rome Card. 1. Is it by me you speak All Card. Speak Lord of Millain Card. 1. First our whole Consistory votes her Thanks To this illustrious Lord. Next as a monument T'an Hereticks infamy if the Boul that held The sacred Drug can be by art or Gold Recovered we decree that it be consecrated As an Eternal Relick to the Chappel at Loretto Lastly that the sleeping Bones Of the dead Saxon Heretick unworthy To mix with the untainted Royal Dust Of his great Ancestors be taken up Removed and buryed in unhallow'd Ground Sax. Disturb my Father's Dust what Cerberus Dog amongst ye Dares growl a sound so impious Ye Cardinal Wolves tear up his Royal Bones Do if you dare keep your Prerogative To hector Kingdoms and to hag-ride Kings But know We are too great and Saxony too honest That Blood-hound Priest that Jackall Monk that dares With his invenom'd Claws but touch his Tomb By all the Conclave Devils and the Ghost Of my dead Father dies upon a Gibbet Card. 2. And are we threatned too By the Divinity Of Rome bold Arrogance thy forfeit Head But thrust him out and shut our Gates against him The Scene shuts upon him and the Consistory closes Sax. Farewel ye Scarlet Blood-hounds Are these the Lords that yoke the Necks of Kings How sensless is that dull Imperial Head That makes his Scepter to the Crosier bow By Heavens he 's both a Coward and a Slave Romes upstart Idol 'bove his Throne he rears And servilely creates the God he fears Down goes his Majesty and down his Fame Pope is the King and Monarch but the name Exit Finis Actus Primi ACT II. Saxony and Angeline Sax. OH Rome thou once great Mistress of the World How much thy ancient Royal Capitol Exceeds th' adulterate Vatican when Pagans And Infidels possess'd thee they were honest The blind Idolaters that kneel'd and prayed To their deaf sensless Molten Gods were Saints To this Church Spawn this Nest of Scarlet Tyrants Ang. Indeed my Lord this strange inverted Justice Is very hard but bear it like a man Sax. Yes when I am treated like a man but Princes Are less than Dogs where base-born Priests controul I and my Cause with all my loud tongued Wrongs Spurn'd from their presence and my Father's Blood Of that small value that the Purple Juice That fills the pamper'd Prelates Epicurean Gorge Is spilt with more Concern than the Blood of Princes Ang. Calm your untimely rage when Ills are past Redressing and all other hope forsakes us Patience is then the wise man's last companion Sax. Patient oh never till Romes Consistory And Justice fill one Throne and that must be When contraries unite When Truth and Falshood Incorporate Suppose my Princely Father Had been an Heretick but if my Soul Dares play the Prophet 't was some private malice That gave the Tragick Blow and this pretended Heresie Some false Machine that moved the specious Scene But grant it true why was he not accused Summon'd and call'd before th'all judging Rome And doom'd by Law if Rome can judge a King Had he been weighed in Justice equal Ballance And found too light than to have hoist The mounting Scale and tript him up to Heaven Had been a doom Worthy the Glory of the Tripple Diadem But to be kill'd by a Poysoner and a Traitor And lesses crimes by greater crimes be punish'd Yes the whole Conclave hug him for the fact Come to our Arms t' our Arms dear Lord of Rhemes We and our Saints are all your Debtors Ang. Enough my Lord Sax. Yet what confounds all humane sense to think The Papal Crown 's fix'd on this Monster 's Brow Nay rais'd too by the merit of a Poysoner My Father's blood advanced him to the Popedom Crown'd him Heaven's Vicar for Hells blackest Murder Ang. Yet hold my Lord. Sax. With these damn'd Principles a begging Friar Shall stab a King a lowzy tatter'd Monk Be a Monarch's Judge and Executioner Is this the Justice of th' Imperial Mitre Covents and Cloysters thus are Romes Tribunals Daggers and Poysons are their Axe and Fasces Pallaces their Scaffolds and the Priestly Robe The Hangman's Livery Enter Lorenzo Priests and Officers Lor. Seize him They seize him·
wish you For now I dare with greater boldness tell you I love her Lord love the great Duke of Saxony With fiercer Fires than you his charming Dutchess And when I give you leave to obtain your wishes You must be just and aid me to crown mine Lor. Are you in earnest Pope By my Royalty I am Storm on and conquer melt her frozen Virtue And love and surfeit like a reveling God Lor. Let me embrace your Knees What can I do to pay you for this kindness I am too tardy in my Gratitude Say shall I bring the Saxon to your Bed By Jupiter I 'll drag him to your arms And when your riotous Love like a keen Eagle Has soared so long till one dull Quarry tires you Chuse out fresh Game new Youth new Veins to please you Survey your Rome look round your ample world Mark out that face that you design for Sacrifice By Heaven's bright Throne 't is yours Pope Thanks dear Lorenzo This is extremely kind But oh I love Where all Attempts and even all hopes are vain My Wings are pinnion'd and my Feet are chain'd And the broad Gulph between us is unpassable Lor. Madam 't is true you 've a hard Game to play But don't despair for methinks there 's something Prophetick in my working Soul that tells me I shall do wonders in your Cause when Angeline Is my Reward and when my active Brain Has form'd that great Minerva for by Heavens He must and shall be yours know Madam I 'll bring you to his Arms with as much pleasure As ever I received you in my own Pope Why this is as it should be Why should we Who 've loved and loved till we have pall'd our Appetites Drawn off Loves Nectar to the dregs be Slaves To sensless Constancy Give me a loose In pleasures uncontrouled unlimited As Ocean Tides whose wanton Billows roar Rove and roll on to the World 's utmost Shore These these are my Principles Lor. By Heavens and mine Pope Give me your hand hence forward let our Wills Admit no Bounds our Pleasures no controul In our delights let old Romes Glory shine Thou the brisk Tarquin I the wanton Messaline Exeunt The Scene the Prison which opening discovers variety of Hereticks in several Tortures Heretick 1. Oh for a Sword a Dagger through my heart Oh Her 2. Savage Tormenters hold oh Groanâ— Her 3. Barbarian Devils oh Priest Peace Heretick or I shall burn that Tongue out These lingring Torments are but lent in kindness T'inure you for damnation Her 3. Tyrant Monsters Priest 1. When your Apostacy from Truth and Heaven Has light your scorching Souls you 'll find Hell hotter Enter the Duke of Saxony brought in by Officers Sax. Where am I brought T' a Roman Prison Death Is this the place Hold Minister of Horrour Why all this Cruelty Priest Ask when you feel it Sax. Bold Slave is this an answer for a Prince Priest 1. Bold Prince is this a question for a Priest A Prince a Pigmey poor gay fool examine Your Circumstances and this Place and then Ask who 's the Slave dull Dotard thou or I. Sax. Traytor I 'll tear thy heart out Offers at him Priest 1. Seize the Mad-man They seize Saxony Nay do not swagger if you are so hot We 'll cool you e'er we part Sax. Gods am I seiz'd And braved by Rascals 1 Priest Insolent Earth and Ashes Do you know who 't is we are Sax. Yes Ruffains wondrous well The Popes Edge-tools the Armour of the Beast The scales and tail of that huge monstrous Hydra And whensoere his boyling Venome hisses You sting and kill Ye rank infectious Limbs But Gods that I should stoop to scold with Villains Patience if ever thou wert a Royal Vertue Keep in my Gall and make my Rage burn inwards 2 Priest Bold Lord you take a wondrous Priviledge To talk thus rudely To the Masters of your Fate Think where you stand Sax. Yes Priest in the Popes Shambles Yes I am snared now Pope thou hast me safe The scorn of Fortune and the sport of Villains So when the Princely Lion's in the toil Each Cur dares bark at him Enter Lorenzo What makes him here How new Tormentors still Lor. No Royal Sir Leave us alone Exeunt all but Sax. and Lor. Sax. What now Speak what new Storm this Monster ne'er sails by But where the stream runs Bloud Lor. No more that Monster Behold an humble Penitent at your feet Kneels Most injured Majesty my trembling Soul Droops at your fate Sax. A very excellent Mask Lor. Sir to remove all thoughts Of such Hypocrisie Bring in that Lady Angeline is brought in vail'd which upon her entrance she pulls off Here be as happy as those Charms can make you Sax. My sweetest Angeline Ang. My Lord my Life Sax. Nay Sir talk on perhaps thou mayst be honest Since these are thy Credentials Lor. Yes my Lord I am Sax. Indeed thou shouldst be so for sure No treacherous hand could make me such a Present Yet I have had such wrongs so much foul play That I mistrust the fairest Cast of Fortune And some new Plot may lurk even in these Arms. Speak is there Heav'n or Hell within this Circle Lor. Heav'n Sir if she can give it you By all My hopes I am your slave my tyrant Lord The Popes Barbarity and your hard fortunes have so perfectly Converted me that as an expiation Of my past Crimes with hazard of my life I bring this Lady to your Arms. Ang. Nay Sir If there be truth in Oaths he has sworn so heartily That sure this pleasing Vision must be true Lor. I must be brief there 's danger in my stay Know then the cruel Pope my much-loath'd Master Continues still almost inexorable Yet though you are lodged within this dismal Scene Of Tyranny I have prevail'd so far That no Barbarity t' your Royal Person Shall here be offered you Your freedom onely Denied and that 's not in my pow'r to give And yet in time I hope t' obtain that too For by my Soul if all my Art and Interest Can serve you I 'll restore your clouded brightness To all its lustre and that too without Your least submission t'an unprincely thought Below the honour of the Duke of Saxony Sax. Let me embrace this Miracle of Goodness This is so strangely kinde Enter Amiran Amir Oh Sir take heed A general Murmur runs thro' all the Princes Jaylours To know why you have broken their strict Orders And brought a Lady to their Royal Prisoner Ang. And can there be that storm must part us now Lor. Sir though your Jaylours are too numerous To be all bribed and Faith in multitudes Can never be reposed yet I have found One honest Priest amongst them him I have made mine Made mine by gold and though this fatal place To this fair Guest is now forbidden ground And I must take her from you yet at night A dark and safer hour By his assistance through a private
trembled at but oh there 's something In Murder so beyond a Female Villain As my Soul startles at the thought But why Why do I play the foolish Crocodile And mourn where I must kill Enter Saxony and Carlo Yonder he comes Let me retire a while and borrow strength For this dire Execution Absconds Sax. Oh my wrong'd Angeline What have I done by what Infatuation What damn'd Illusion led have I a Monster Claspt to my breast or has some Rival-God In malice to thy happier envyed Lord Caught thee t' his Heaven t'outshine yon dazling Stars And left that changeling Demon in my Arms I shall run mad Amir Alas poor injur'd Prince Sax. Tell me ye Powers Infernal I conjure you By all the Pleasures of Revenge And thou curst Pope thou greater blacker Devil Tell me by what Inchantments Spells Drugs Minerals That savage Whore you lodged within my Arms And to make up that Monster more than execrable Lent her thy own infernal face to blast me Amir Oh I can hold no longer Ye Gods That so much Excellence should be created For so much Ruine Pity Conscience Love I know not which thou art But on the suddain My dire resolves are stagger'd Sax. Art thou here Oh my young Pandar ye kinde Powers I thank you Thou unfletcht Imp thou early-lighted brand Of everlasting fire tell me what Fury Thy impious hand lodged in my Bed last night Tell me for I will know Amir Oh Sir no more I cannot must not will not dare not tell you Sax. Not tell me Now by thy own Mother-Hag That bore thee in a Ditch fed thee with Scorpions Swath'd thee with Adders suckled thee with Bloud And dipt thee young in Hell Speak quickly or I 'll tear the cursed Secret From thy impostum'd heart speak or I 'll kill thee Amir Yes do Sir and I 'll thank you for the kindness For if I speak I must kill you and trust me I have that sense of your unhappy sufferings That I had rather die my self than be Your Murderer Sax. And art thou then in earnest Come prithee speak I was to blame to chide thee Be not afraid speak but the fatal truth And by my hopes of Heav'n I will forgive thee Out with it come now wouldst thou tell me all But art ashamed to own thy self a Bawd 'Las that might be thy Fathers fault not thine Perhaps some honest humble Cottage bred thee And thy ambitious Parents poorly proud For a gay Coat made thee a Page at Court And for a plume of Feathers sold thy Soul But 't is not yet not yet too late to save it Amir Oh my sad heart Sax. Come prithee speak let but A true confession plead thy penitence And Heav'n will then forgive thee as I do Amir But Sir can you resolve to lend an ear To sounds so terrible so full of fate As will not onely act a single Tragedy But even dis-joynt all Natures Harmony And quite untune the world for such such are The Notes that I must breathe Sax. Oh my dear Murderer Breath 'em as cheerfully as the soaring Lark Wakes the gay Morn Those dear sweet Airs that kill me Are my new nuptial Songs My Angeline Has been my first and Death 's my second Bride Amir Know then th'Enchantress that these two last nights Slept in your bosome was your Fathers Poysoner Sax. Riddles and Death what mystick sounds are these Amir That Sorceress that in a borrow'd shape Usurps Rome's sacred Throne was the dire Fiend Sax. Ha! Amir Oh Sir I read that lightning in your eyes That tells me I have set your Soul on fire Break break great heart thou' rt too much lost to live And for the last the greatest fatal stab For I must tell you all That lust-burnt Hag Began her game with your unhappy Father You may remember in the Saxon Court A fatal Beauty call'd Joanna Anglica That Syren first defiled your Fathers Bed And then by Jealousie transform'd t' his Priest And by Revenge t' his Murderer his bloud His Royal bloud she doubly doubly poyson'd Sax. Thunder and Earthquakes Amir And not t' end there neither The bestial lust of her incestuous Fires Traced your dead fathers Beauties in your Eyes And the same sulphurous Mine that blew his soul up Was light to sacrifice the Martyr'd son Sax. A Whore a Poysoner nay a Fathers Whore And Fathers Poysoner Oh my bloated Soul O most unnatural doubly damn'd Hyena Mixt in my Fathers shame Oh horrour horrour Oh my vast wrongs destruction ruine death Strike thick ye darts of fate My poor dear Angeline Ha! spight of all my pains that Name has life in 't Say Boy how fares my Angeline Tho millions Of torturing Furies gore this bleeding heart I know thou 'lt say she 's well and lives unhurt Sleeps innocent and in her golden slumbers She little dreams what numberless distractions Surround her wretched Lord. Amir Alas Sir Sax. Ha! Amir The saddest part of all my killing story Is yet to come By the same Stratagem That has deceiv'd her Lord was your poor Princess By false Lorenzo's lust enjoy'd and ravisht Sax. Now all the Plagues of him that sold his God Reward the execrable Dog My Angeline My dearest sweetest and once brightest Angeline Ye Tyrant Powers ye everlasting Torturers That made mankind for ruine end me quickly Oh bury me like the rebellious Gyants Loaded with Mountain-piles for I shall rave Rave to that height till all my gasping Pangs My rowling Tears and my loud bellowing Groans Burst out like Cataracts enough to deafen The very Thunder of my angry Gods Yet hold I have some business to dispatch Before my Eye-balls burst Say Boy canst thou Oblige a very wretched thing and bear My dying sighs to that dear martyr'd Innocence Amir My Lord I can Sax. And wilt thou be so kind Nay thou 'lt be kinder yet for thou' rt a Convert A gentle honest Boy But oh too late Speak is it in thy power to bless my Eyes With one last view of those dear beauteous Ruines Before we part and die Amir My Lord it is Your Princess is my Charge And your own servant here by my instructions Shall haste and bring her to your arms this minute Sax. Heav'ns brightest Diadem crown thee for this goodness There Amiran whispers with Carlo and gives him a Key Flie Carlo flie and as thou bringst her hither Repeat the dismal Tale of all our Woes But oh 't is terrible 't is wondrous terrible For such chast ears yet she must hear it all Leave not one tittle that may wing her Soul For its last flight for Carlo she must die The softest heart that yon celestial fire Could ever animate must break and die We are both too wretched to outlive this day And I but send thee as her executioner Carlo I flie to obey you Sir Sax. Stay Carlo stay Why all this haste to murder so much Innocence Yet thou must go And since thy tongue must kill The brightest form
Enter Pope Cardinals Priests and other Officers as in form of a Procession Pope Lorenzo murder'd and that Saxon Basilisk Alive and in the head o' th' Multitude I am betrayed undone Aside Sax. Romans Lords Cardinals to you I speak That brand of Hell Pope Now by yon bright Omnipotence Some black design against Romes awful Godhead Sax. No by yon bright Omnipotence I come For Justice Justice against Romes Scarlet Whore Pope Dear adored Devil save me but this once Sax. Oh Romans Romes once shining Dignity And dazling Glory is eclipsed for ever Instead of Majesty t' adorn a Throne That mitred Monster is a Whore Hag Sorceress Pope Heavens can your Thunder sleep and tamely hear Such Blasphemies within the Walls of Rome Card. 1. Inhumane Insolence Card. 2. Exquisite Traytor Sax. No willful blind deluded Prelates no Eternity blast me if she be not a Woman And the most rank Damnation ever shaped And to make up her loathed Abominations By her contrivance was this Beauty First ravished and then murder'd Whilst th' Hell-burnt Lust of the adult'rous Hag Within these blasted Arms supplyed her Room Pope Oh Rome and Romans lest the wrath of Heaven Should rain down Fire upon your guilty Heads Upon the forfeit of your Souls revenge me Sax. Revenge my Wrongs and this fair Martyrs Blood Oh right the Honour of Romes injured Majesty And burn the Enchantress Pope Oh right the Honour of Romes injured Majesty And seise the Heretick Saxony draws and makes at the Pope but is disarm'd by the people All the Card. Burn burn the Traytor The Rabble Burn him burn him burn him Exeunt the Rabble forcing out Saxony to execution Pope This dread Encounter oh my staggering frame Has loosen'd every Vein about my Heart And I am all o'er Convulsions But lead on And end the Sacred Business of the day His Treason stopt but his Blood clears our way Exeunt The Scene opens and discovers a Stake and Faggots with Priests with Lighted Torches to kindle the Fire and the Rabble hurrying Saxony to the Fire Sax. Burn at a Stake doom'd like a Slave a Traytor Farewel thou Royal rank Church Whore farewel Live and reign on yes hot Inchantress live Romes universal Teeming Fruitful Prostitute Brood on Romes cursed Chair brood like a hatching Basilisk Entail thy Lust t' a thousand Generations And warm the Nest for all thy bloody Successors May not that Beast of Prey a Pope succeed thee But be thy Bastard Not a Cell nor Cloyster But be thy Brothel And not a fawning Cardinal but thy Bawd And lest thy hopeful progeny shoul fail Mix thy black Lust with some engendring Devil And people thy curst Rome with Imps and Goblins And to employ all Hells whole stock of Fire May all thy race be Cardinals Popes Abbots Monks Friars Priests and all be damn'd together Rabble Burn him burn him Scene shuts Enter Cardinals Card. 1. By all that 's good a Whore a Witch Confusion Romes dread Majesty transform'd T' a teeming Hag and an abortive Bastard Card. 2. Miscarried in the Street i' th' open face of day Card. 3. Frighted no doubt with that fierce hectoring Duke The puny half got weak untimely Bastard Fell from the brooding Fiend Card. 4. Romes Royal Chair Once the bright Seat of Heavens great Deputies Profaned and sullied by a Whore a Syren May this curst day and this more cursed deed From Romes great Annals be for ever torn Card. 1. No let her shame be branded to posterity First be her Body into Tyber thrown Then hers and her unshapen Bastards Image Be fix'd upon a Pyramid in Rome And lastly in all future times No Mitred Prelate in divine Procession Presume to pass through that detested Street Where this curst Sorceress fell Card. 2. But my good Brothers How shall we guard our Mother Churches Brightness From new pollutions fence her holy Throne From new Impostors from all future Sorceries Card. 1. Oh Brothers by immediate revelation Touch'd with a Spark from yon Celestial Orb I 've have found that happy glorious great design For which our yet even unborn Heirs shall thank me Card. 3. Oh speak Card. 1. Thus then the Coronation Porphyry On which Romes installed Bishop Heavens Lieutenant takes his great Commission Shall thro' it have that subtle concave form'd Thro' which a reverend Matrons hand Card. 2. Now by yon Stars inspired by some good Angel I guess thy glorious purpose Card. 1. Now Devils we defie your utmost power Romes awful Throne shall be profan'd no more Put Whores and Bawds upon us if you can Romes Mitred Head henceforth shall be a Man Exeunt omnes FINIS