Chapter 37

_Enter_ MONTEZUMA, _and High-Priest_.

_Mont_. Not that I fear the utmost fate can do, Come I the event of doubtful war to know; For life and death are things indifferent; Each to be chose as either brings content: My motive from a nobler cause does spring, Love rules my heart, and is your monarch's king; I more desire to know Almeria's mind, Than all that heaven has for my state designed.

_High Pr_. By powerful charms, which nothing can withstand, I'll force the Gods to tell what you demand.

CHARM.

Thou moon, that aidest us with thy magic might, And ye small stars, the scattered seeds of light, Dart your pale beams into this gloomy place, That the sad powers of the infernal race May read above what's hid from human eyes, And in your walks see empires fall and rise. And ye, immortal souls, who once were men, And now, resolved to elements again, Who wait for mortal frames in depths below, And did before what we are doomed to do; Once, twice, and thrice, I wave my sacred wand, Ascend, ascend, ascend at my command.

[_An earthy spirit rises_.

_Spir_. In vain, O mortal men, your prayers implore The aid of powers below, which want it more: A God more strong, who all the Gods commands, Drives us to exile from our native lands; The air swarms thick with wandering deities, Which drowsily, like humming beetles, rise From our loved earth, where peacefully we slept, And, far from heaven, a long possession kept. The frighted satyrs, that in woods delight, Now into plains with pricked-up ears take flight; And scudding thence, while they their horn-feet ply, About their sires the little silvans cry. A nation loving gold must rule this place, Our temples ruin, and our rites deface: To them, O king, is thy lost sceptre given. Now mourn thy fatal search, for since wise heaven More ill than good to mortals does dispense, It is not safe to have too quick a sense.

[_Descends_.

_Mont_. Mourn they, who think repining can remove The firm decrees of those, who rule above; The brave are safe within, who still dare die: Whene'er I fall, I'll scorn my destiny. Doom as they please my empire not to stand, I'll grasp my sceptre with my dying hand.

_High Pr_. Those earthy spirits black and envious are; I'll call up other Gods, of form more fair: Who visions dress in pleasing colour still, Set all the good to shew, and hide the ill. Kalib, ascend, my fair-spoke servant rise, And sooth my heart with pleasing prophesies.

KALIB ascends all in white, in shape of a woman, and sings.

_Kal_. _I looked and saw within the book of fate, Where, many days did lowr, When lo one happy hour Leapt up, and smiled to save thy sinking state; A day shall come when in thy power Thy cruel foes shall be; Then shall thy land be free, And thou in peace shalt reign. But take, O take that opportunity, Which, once refused, will never come again._

[Descends.

_Mont_. I shall deserve my fate, if I refuse That happy hour which heaven allots to use: But of my crown thou too much care dost take; That which I value more, my love's at stake.

_High Pr_. Arise, ye subtle spirits, that can spy, When love is entered in a female's eye; You, that can read it in the midst of doubt, And in the midst of frowns can find it out; You, that can search those many cornered minds, Where women's crooked fancy turns and winds; You, that can love explore, and truth impart, Where both lie deepest hid in woman's heart, Arise--

[_The ghosts of_ TRAXALLA _and_ ACACIS _arise; they stand still, and point at_ MONTEZUMA.

_High Pr_. I did not for these ghastly visions send; Their sudden coming does some ill portend. Begone,--begone,--they will not disappear! My soul is seized with an unusual fear.

_Mont_. Point on, point on, and see whom you can fright. Shame and confusion seize these shades of night! Ye thin and empty forms, am I your sport? [_They smile_. If you were flesh-- You know you durst not use me in this sort.

[_The ghost of the Indian Queen rises betwixt the ghosts, with a dagger in her breast_.

_Mont_. Ha! I feel my hair grow stiff, my eye-balls roll! This is the only form could shake my soul.

_Ghost_. The hopes of thy successful love resign; Know, Montezuma, thou art only mine; For those, who here on earth their passion shew By death for love, receive their right below. Why dost thou then delay my longing arms? Have cares, and age, and mortal life such charms? The moon grows sickly at the sight of day, And early cocks have summoned me away: Yet I'll appoint a meeting place below, For there fierce winds o'er dusky vallies blow, Whose every puff bears empty shades away, Which guidless in those dark dominions stray. Just at the entrance of the fields below, Thou shalt behold a tall black poplar grow; Safe in its hollow trunk I will attend, And seize thy spirit when thou dost descend.

[_Descends_.

_Mont_. I'll seize thee there, thou messenger of fate.-- Would my short life had yet a shorter date! I'm weary of this flesh which holds us here, And dastards manly souls with hope and fear; These heats and colds still in our breast make war, Agues and fevers all our passions are. [_Exeunt_.