THE

SOPHY.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Enter ABDALL and MORAT.

M

MORAT.

Y Lord, you have good Intelligence,
What News from the Army,

Any Certainty of their Design or
Strength?

Abd. We know not their De-
fign: But for their Strength,

The Diproportion is fo great, we cannot but
Expect a fatal Confequence.

Mor. How great, my Lord!

Abd. The Turks are fourfcore thousand Foot, And fifty thousand Horfe. And we in the whole Exceed not forty Thousand.

Mor. Methinks the Prince fhould know.
That Judgment's more effential to a General,
Than Courage; if he prove Victorious,
'Tis but a happy Rashness.

Abd. But if he lofe the Battel, 'tis an Error Beyond Excufe, or Remedy, confidering That half the leffer Afia will follow The Victor's Fortune.

Mor. 'Tis his fingle Virtue,

And Terror of his Name, that walls us in
From Danger; were he loft, the naked Empire:
Would be a Prey expos'd to all Invaders.
Abd. But is't not neceffary

The King fhould know his Danger?

Mor. To tell him of fo great a Danger, were but to draw a greater on our felves: For though his Eye is open as the Morning's, Towards Lufts and Pleafures, yet fo faft a Lethargy Has feiz'd his Pow'rs towards publick Cares and Dangers,

He fleeps like Death.

Abd. He's a Man of that ftrange Compofition, Made up of all the worst Extremities Of Youth, and Age.

Mor. And though

He feels the Heats of Youth, and Colds of Age,
Yet neither tempers, nor corrects the other;

As if there were an Ague in his Nature
That ftill inclines to one Extream.

Abd. But the Caliph, or Haly, or some that know His fofter Hours, might best acquaint him with it, Mor. Alas, they fhew him nothing

But in the Glafs of Flattery; if any thing
May bear a Shew of Glory, Fame, or Greatnefs,
'Tis multiplied to an immenfe Quantity,
And ftretcht even to Divinity:

But if it tend to Danger, or Dishonour,
They turn about the Perfpective, and shew it
So little, at fuch diftance, fo like nothing,
That he can scarce difcern it,

Abd. 'Tis the Fate of Princes, that no Knowledge Comes pure to them, but paffing through the Eyes And Ears of other Men, it takes a Tincture From ev'ry Channel; and ftills bears a Reli Of Flattery, or private Ends.

Mor. But Danger and Neceffity Dare fpeak the Truth.

Abd. But commonly

They speak not till it is too late:

And for Haly,

He that hall tell him of the Prince's Danger,
But tells him that himself is fafe.

SCENE II.

Enter King, Princess, and Solyman. King. Clear up, clear up, fweet Erythaa, That Cloud that hangs upon thy Brow prefages A greater Storm than all the Turkish Power Can throw upon us; methinks I fee my Fortune Settling her Looks by thine, and in thy Smile Sits Victory, and in thy Frown our Ruin : Why should not Hope

As much erect our Thoughts, as Fear deject them} Why should we

Anticipate our Sorrows? 'tis like thofe

That die for fear of Death:

What is't you doubt, his Courage, or his Fortune? Princess. Envy it felf could never doubt his Courage.

King. Then let not Love do worfe, by doubting

that

Which is but Valour's Slave; a wife well-temper'd Valour,

For fuch is his, those Giants Death and Danger, Are but his Minifters, and serve a Mafter

More to be fear'd than they; and the blind Goddess Is led amongst the Captives in his Triumph.

Princess. I had rather fhe had Eyes; for if the faw him,

Sure she would love him better; but admit
She were at once a Goddess, and his Slave,
Yet Fortune, Valour, all is. overborn
By Numbers: as the long refifting Bank
By the impetuous Torrent.

King. That's but Rumor:

Ne'er did the Turk invade our Territory,
But Fame and Terror doubled ftill their Files:
But when our Troops encountred, then we found
Scarce a fufficient Matter for our Fury.

[One brings word of a Messenger,

Solyman, Conduct him in.

'Tis furely from the Prince.

Enter Poft, and delivers a Letter.

King. Give it our Secretaries: I hope the Prince is well.

Poft. The Letter will inform you. [Enter a Me. Meff. Sir, the Lords attend you.

[Ex. Princefs. Enter Lords.

King. What News from the Army?

Lord. Please you to hear the Letter?

King. Read it.

Lord. The Turk, enrag'd with his laft Year's Overthrow,

Hath re-inforc'd his Army with the Choice of all his
And the Flow'r of his whole Empire; [Janizars,
We understand by fome Fugitives, that he hath
commanded

The Generals to return with Victory, or expect.
A fhameful Death: what I fhall further do,
(Their Numbers five times exceeding ours)
I defire to receive Directions from Your Majefty's
Command,

King. Send away all our Guards,

Let fresh Supplies of Victuals, and of Mony.
Lord. Your Treasures

Are quite exhaufted, the Exchequer's empty.
King. Send to the Bankers.

Abd. Sir, upon your late Demands

They answered they were Poor.

King. Sure the Villains hold a Corespondence With the Enemy, and thus they would betray us: Firft give us up to Want, then to Contempt, And then to Ruin; but tell thofe Sons of Earth I'll have their Mony, or their Heads.

'Tis my Command; when fuch Occasions are, No Plea muft-ferve; 'tis Cruelty to spare.

[Exeunt Lords.

Enter another Meffenger.

King. The Prince, tranfported with his youthful
Heat,

I fear, hath gone too far: 'tis fome Disaster,
Or elfe he would not fend fo thick: well, bring
him in:

I am prepar'd to hear the worst of Evils.

Enter Solyman and two Captains. Captains kifs

his Hand.

King. What, is the Prince befieged in hisTrenches, And loft his Army, or his Liberty?

Tell me what Province they demand for Ranfom?
Or if the worst of all Mishaps hath fallen,

Speak, for he could not die unlike himself:
Speak freely; and yet methinks I read

Something of better Fortune in thy Looks,
But dare not hope it.

Capt. Sir, the Prince lives.

King. And hath not loft his Honour?
Capt. As fafe in Honour as in Life.

King. Nor Liberty?

Capt. Free as the Air he breathes,