The Indian Emperor/Act III/Scene I

SCENE I.—A Chamber Royal.

Enter and

Odm. The gods, fair Alibech, had so decreed, Nor could my valour against fate succeed; Yet though our army brought not conquest home, I did not from the fight inglorious come: If, as a victor, you the brave regard, Successless courage, then, may hope reward; And I, returning safe, may justly boast To win the prize which my dear brother lost.

Enter behind him.

Guy. No, no, thy brother lives! and lives to be A witness, both against himself and thee; Though both in safety are returned again, I blush to ask her love for vanquished men.

Odm. Brother, I'll not dispute but you are brave; Yet I was free, and you, it seems, a slave.

Guy. Odmar, 'tis true that I was captive led; As publicly 'tis known, as that you fled: But of two shames, if she must one partake, I think the choice will not be hard to make.

Odm. Freedom and bondage in her choice remain; Darest thou expect she will put on thy chain ?

Guy. No, no, fair Alibech, give him the crown, My brother is returned with high renown: He thinks by flight his mistress must be won, And claims the prize, because he best did run.

Alib. Your chains were glorious, and your flight was wise, But neither have o'ercome your enemies: My secret wishes would my choice decide, But open justice bends to neither side.

Odm. Justice already does my right approve, If him, who loves you most, you most should love. My brother poorly from your aid withdrew, But I my father left, to succour you.

Guy. Her country she did to herself prefer, Him who fought best, not who defended her; Since she her interest, for the nation's waved, Then I, who saved the king, the nation saved. You, aiding her, your country did betray: I, aiding him, did her commands obey.

Odm. Name it no more; in love there is a time When dull obedience is the greatest crime. She to her country's use resigned your sword, And you, kind lover, took her at her word; You did your duty to your love prefer, Seek your reward from duty, not from her.

Guy. In acting what my duty did require, 'Twas hard for me to quit my own desire; That fought for her, which, when I did subdue, 'Twas much the easier task I left to you.

Alib. Odmar a more than common love has shown, And Guyomar's was greater, or was none; Which I should choose, some god direct my breast, The certain good, or the uncertain best— I cannot choose,—you both dispute in vain,— Time and your future acts must make it plain; First raise the siege, and set your country free, I, not the judge, but the reward, will be.

To them, Enter ' talking with ' and

Mont. Madam, I think, with reason, I extol The virtue of the Spanish general; When all the gods our ruin have foretold, Yet generously he does his arms withhold, And, offering peace, the first conditions make.

Alm. When peace is offered, 'tis too late to take; For one poor loss, to stoop to terms like those!— Were we o'ercome, what could they worse impose? Go, go, with homage your proud victors meet! Go, lie like dogs beneath your master's feet! Go, and beget them slaves to dig their mines, And groan for gold, which now in temples shines! Your shameful story shall record of me, The men all crouched, and left a woman free!

Guy. Had I not fought, or durst not fight again, I my suspected counsel should refrain: For I wish peace, and any terms prefer, Before the last extremities of war. We but exasperate those we cannot harm, And fighting gains us but to die more warm: If that be cowardice, which dares not see The insolent effects of victory, The rape of matrons, and their children's cries,— Then I am fearful, let the brave advise.

Odm. Keen cutting swords, and engines killing far, Have prosperously begun a doubtful war: But now our foes with less advantage fight, Their strength decreases with our Indians' fright

Mont. This noble vote does with my wish comply, I am for war.

Alm. And so am I.

Orb. And I.

Mont. Then send to break the truce, and I'll take care To cheer the soldiers, and for fight prepare. [Exeunt and

Alm. to Orb. 'Tis now the hour which all to rest allow, And sleep sits heavy upon every brow; In this dark silence softly leave the town, [ returns, and hears them. And to the general's tent,—'tis quickly known,— Direct your steps: You may despatch him straight, Drowned in his sleep, and easy for his fate: Besides, the truce will make the guards more slack.

Orb. Courage, which leads me on, will bring me back.— But I more fear the baseness of the thing: Remorse, you know, bears a perpetual sting.

Alm. For mean remorse no room the valiant finds, Repentance is the virtue of weak minds; For want of judgment keeps them doubtful still, They may repent of good, who can of ill; But daring courage makes ill actions good, 'Tis foolish pity spares a rival's blood ; You shall about it straight. [Exeunt and Guy. Would they betray His sleeping virtue, by so mean a way!— And yet this Spaniard is our nation's foe,— I wish him dead,—but cannot wish it so;— Either my country never must be freed, Or I consenting to so black a deed.— Would chance had never led my steps this way! Now if he dies, I murder him, not they;— Something must be resolved ere 'tis too late;— He gave me freedom, I'll prevent his fate. [Exit.