Har. I know not what heaven will, but earth shall not.

Beam. Her story carries such a face of truth,
Ye cannot but believe it.

Col. The other, a malicious ill-patched lie.

Fisc. Yes, you are proper judges of his crime,
Who, with the rest of your accomplices,
Your countrymen, and Towerson the chief,
Whom we too kindly used, would have surprised
The fort, and made us slaves; that shall be proved,
More soon than you imagine; I found it out
This evening.

Tow. Sure the devil has lent thee all his stock of falsehood, and must be forced hereafter to tell truth.

Beam. Sir, it is impossible you should believe it.

Har. Seize them all.

Col. You cannot be so base.

Har. I'll be so just, 'till I can hear your plea
Against this plot; which if not proved, and fully,
You are quit; mean time, resistance is but vain.

Tow. Provided that we may have equal hearing,
I am content to yield, though I declare,
You have no power to judge us.[Gives his sword.

Beam. Barbarous, ungrateful Dutch!

Har. See them conveyed apart to several prisons,
Lest they combine to forge some specious lie
In their excuse.
Let Towerson and that woman too be parted.

Isab. Was ever such a sad divorce made on a bridal night!
But we before were parted, ne'er to meet.
Farewell, farewell, my last and only love!

ACT V.
SCENE I.—A Table set out.

Enter Harman, Fiscal, Van Herring, and two Dutchmen: They sit. Boy, and Waiters, Guards.

Har. My sorrow cannot be so soon digested for losing of a son I loved so well; but I consider great advantages must with some loss be bought; as this rich trade which I this day have purchased with his death: yet let me lie revenged, and I shall still live on, and eat and drink down all my griefs. Now to the matter, Fiscal.

Fisc. Since we may freely speak among ourselves, all I have said of Towerson was most false. You were consenting, sir, as well as I, that Perez should be hired to murder him, which he refusing when he was engaged, 'tis dangerous to let him longer live.

Van. Her. Dispatch him; he will be a shrewd witness against us, if he returns to Europe.

Fisc. I have thought better, if you please,—to kill him by form of law, as accessary to the English plot, which I have long been forging.

Van Her. Nor I; but it was well done to feign that story.

1 Dutch. The true one was too foul.

2 Dutch. And afterwards to draw the English off from his concernment, to their own, I think 'twas rarely managed that.

Har. So far, 'twas well; now to proceed, for I would gladly know, whether the grounds are plausible enough of this pretended plot.

Fisc. With favour of this honourable court, give me but leave to smooth the way before you. Some two or three nights since, (it matters not,) a Japan soldier, under captain Perez, came to a centinel upon the guard, and in familiar talk did question him about this castle, of its strength, and how he thought it might be taken; this discourse the other told me early the next morning: I thereupon did issue private orders, to rack the Japanese, myself being present.

Har. But what's this to the English?

Fisc. You shall hear: I asked him, when his pains were strongest on him, if Towerson, or the English factory, had never hired him to betray the fort? he answered, (as it was true) they never had; nor was his meaning more in that discourse, than as a soldier to inform himself, and so to pass the time.

Van Her. Did he confess no more?

Fisc. You interrupt me. I told him, I was certainly informed the English had designs upon the castle, and if he frankly would confess their plot, he should not only be released from torment, but bounteously rewarded: Present pain and future hope, in fine, so wrought upon him, he yielded to subscribe whatever I pleased; and so he stands committed.

2 Dutch. By his confession, all of them shall die, even to their general, Towerson.

Har. He stands convicted of another crime, for which he is to suffer.

Fisc. This does well to help it though: For Towerson is here a person publicly employed from England, and if he should appeal, as sure he will, you have no power to judge him in Amboyna.

Van Her. But in regard of the late league and union betwixt the nations, how can this be answered?

1 Dutch. To torture subjects to so great a king, a pain never heard of in their happy land, will sound but ill in Europe.

Fisc. Their English laws in England have their force; and we have ours, different from theirs at home. It is enough, they either shall confess, or we will falsify their hands to make them. Then, for the apology, let me alone; I have it writ already to a title, of what they shall subscribe; this I will publish, and make our most unheard of cruelties to seem most just and legal.

Har. Then, in the name of him, who put it first into thy head to form this damned false plot, proceed we to the execution of it. And to begin; first seize we their effects, rifle their chests, their boxes, writings, books, and take of them a seeming inventory; but all to our own use.—I shall grow young with thought of this, and lose my son's remembrance!

Fisc. Will you not please to call the prisoners in? At least inquire what torments have extorted.

Har. Go thou and bring us word. [Exit Fiscal.] Boy, give me some tobacco, and a stoup of wine, boy.

Boy. I shall, sir.

Har. And a tub to leak in, boy; when was this table without a leaking vessel?

1 Dutch. A great omission. 'Tis a member of the table, I take it so.

Har. Never any thing of moment was done at our council-table without a leaking tub, at least in my time; great affairs require great consultations, great consultations require great drinking, and great drinking a great leaking vessel.

Van Her. I am even drunk with joy already, to see our godly business in this forwardness.

Enter Fiscal.

Har. Where are the prisoners?

Fisc. At the door.

Har. Bring them in; I'll try if we can face them down by impudence, and make them to confess.

Enter Beamont and Collins, guarded.

You are not ignorant of our business with you: the cries of your accomplices have already reached your ears; and your own consciences, above a thousand summons, a thousand tortures, instruct you what to do. No farther juggling, nothing but plain sincerity and truth to be delivered now; a free confession will first atone for all your sins above, and may do much below to gain your pardons. Let me exhort you, therefore, be you merciful, first to yourselves and make acknowledgment of your conspiracy.

Beam. What conspiracy?

Fisc. Why la you, that the devil should go masked with such a seeming honest face! I warrant you know of no such thing.

Har. Were not you, Mr Beamont, and you, Collins both accessary to the horrid plot, for the surprisal of this fort and island?

Col. And so am I.

Har. So, you are first upon the negative.

Beam. And will be so till death.

Col. What plot is this you speak of?

Fisc. Here are impudent rogues! now after confession of two Japanese, these English starts dare ask what plot it is!

Har. Not to inform your knowledge, but that law may have its course in every circumstance, Fiscal, sum up their accusation to them.

Fisc. You stand accused, that new-year's day last past, there met at captain Towerson's house, you present, and many others of your factory: There, against law and justice, and all ties of friendship, and of partnership betwixt us, you did conspire to seize upon the fort, to murder this our worthy governor; and, by the help of your plantations near, of Jacatra, Banda, and Loho, to keep it for yourselves.

Beam. What proofs have you of this?

Fisc. The confession of two Japanese, hired by you to attempt it.

Beam. I hear they have been forced by torture to it.

Har. It matters not which way the truth comes out; take heed, for their example is before you.

Beam. Ye have no right, ye dare not torture us; we owe you no subjection.

Fisc. That, sir, must be disputed at the Hague; in the mean time we are in possession here.

2 Dutch. And we can make ourselves to be obeyed.

Van Her. In few words, gentlemen, confess. There is a beverage ready for you else, which you will not like to swallow.

Col. How is this?

1 Dutch. That is one way, we have others.

Har. Yes, we have two elements at your service, fire, as well as water; certain things called matches to be tied to your finger-ends, which are as sovereign as nutmegs to quicken your short memories.

Beam. You are inhuman, to make your cruelty your pastime: nature made me a man, and not a whale, to swallow down a flood.

Har. You will grow a corpulent gentleman like me; I shall love you the better for it; now you are but a spare rib.

Fisc. These things are only offered to your choice; you may avoid your tortures, and confess.

Col. Kill us first; for that we know is your design at last, and 'tis more mercy now.

Beam. Be kind, and execute us while we bear the shapes of men, ere fire and water have destroyed our figures; let me go whole out of the world, I care not, and find my body when I rise again, so as I need not be ashamed of it.

Har. 'Tis well you are merry; will you yet confess?

Beam. Never.

Har. Bear them away to torture.

Van. Her. We will try your constancy.

Beam. We will shame your cruelty; if we deserve our tortures, 'tis first for freeing such an infamous nation, that ought to have been slaves, and then for trusting them as partners, who had cast off the yoke of their lawful sovereign.

Har. Away, I'll hear no more.—Now who comes the next?[Exeunt the English with a Guard.

Fisc. Towerson's page, a ship-boy, and a woman.

Har. Call them in.[Exit a Messenger.

Fisc. Not so easy as you imagine, they have endured the beverage already; all masters of their pain, no one confessing.

Har. The devil's in these English! those brave boys would prove stout topers if they lived.

Enter Page, a Boy, and a Woman, led as from torture.

Come hither, ye perverse imps; they say you have endured the water torment, we will try what fire will do with you: You, sirrah, confess; were not you knowing of Towerson's plot, against this fort and island?

Page. I have told your hangman no, twelve times within this hour, when I was at the last gasp; and that is a time, I think, when a man should not dissemble.

Har. A man! mark you that now; you English boys have learnt a trick of late, of growing men betimes; and doing men's work, too, before you come to twenty.

Van Her. Sirrah, I will try if you are a salamander and can live in the fire.

Page. Sure you think my father got me of some Dutchwoman, and that I am but of a half-strain courage; but you shall find that I am all over English as well in fire as water.

Boy. Well, of all religions, I do not like your Dutch.

Fisc. No? and why, young stripling?

Boy. Because your penance comes before confession.

Har. Do you mock us, sirrah? To the fire with him.

Boy. Do so; all you shall get by it is this; before I answered no; now I'll be sullen and will talk no more.

Page. Yes, as your children have that of rebellion. Oh that I could but live to be governor here, to make your fat guts pledge me in that beverage I drunk, you Sir John Falstaff of Amsterdam!

Boy. I have a little brother in England, that I intend to appear to when you have killed me; and if he does not promise me the death of ten Dutchmen in the next war, I'll haunt him instead of you.

Har. What say you, woman? Have compassion of yourself, and confess; you are of a softer sex.

Wom. But of a courage full as manly; there is no sex in souls; would you have English wives shew less of bravery than their children do? To lie by an Englishman's side, is enough to give a woman resolution.

Fisc. Here is a hen of the game too, but we shall tame you in the fire.

Wom. My innocence shall there be tried like gold, till it come out the purer. When you have burnt me all into one wound, cram gunpowder into it, and blow me up, I'll not confess one word to shame my country.

Har. I think we have got here the mother of the Maccabees; away with them all three. [Exeunt the English guarded.] I'll take the pains myself to see these tortured.
[Exeunt Harman, Van Herring, and the two Dutchmen with the English: Manet Fiscal.

Enter Julia to the Fiscal.

Jul. Oh you have ruined me! you have undone me, in the person of my husband!

Jul. Do you think I'll ever come into a bed with him, who robbed me of my dear sweet man?

Fisc. Dry up your tears; I am in earnest; I will marry you; i'faith I will; it is your destiny.

Jul. Nay if it be my destiny—but I vow I'll never be yours but upon one condition.

Fisc. Name your desire, and take it.

Jul. Then save poor Beamont's life.

Fisc. This is the most unkind request you could have made; it shews you love him better: therefore, in prudence, I should haste his death.

Jul. Come, I'll not be denied; you shall give me his life, or I'll not love you; by this kiss you shall, child.

Fisc. Pray ask some other thing.

Jul. I have your word for this, and if you break it, how shall I trust you for your marrying me?

Fisc. Well, I will do it to oblige you. But to prevent her new designs with him, I'll see him shipped away for England strait.
[Aside.

Jul. I may build upon your promise, then?

Fisc. Most firmly: I hear company.

Enter Harman, Van Herring, and the two Dutchmen, with Towerson prisoner.

Har. Now, captain Towerson, you have had the privilege to be examined last; this on the score of my old friendship with you, though you have ill deserved it. But here you stand accused of no less crimes than robbery first, then murder, and last, treason: What can you say to clear yourself?

Fisc. This court conceives that it has power to judge you, derived from the most high and mighty states, who in this island are supreme, and that as well in criminal as civil causes.

1 Dutch. You are not to question the authority of the court, which is to judge you.

Tow. Sir, by your favour, I both must, and will:
I'll not so far betray my nation's right;
We are not here your subjects, but your partners:
And that supremacy of power, you claim,
Extends but to the natives, not to us:
Dare you, who in the British seas strike sail,
Nay more, whose lives and freedom are our alms,
Presume to sit and judge your benefactors?
Your base new upstart commonwealth should blush,
To doom the subjects of an English king,
The meanest of whose merchants would disdain
The narrow life, and the domestic baseness,
Of one of those you call your Mighty States.

Fisc. You spend your breath in railing; speak to the purpose.

Har. Hold yet: Because you shall not call us cruel,
Or plead I would be judge in my own cause,
I shall accept of that appeal you make,
Concerning my son's death; provided first,
You clear yourself from what concerns the public;
For that relating to our general safety,
The judgment of it cannot be deferred,
But with our common danger.

Fisc. We cannot help your want of wit; proceed.

Tow. Grant then we had been desperate enough
To hazard this; we must at least forecast,
How to secure possession when we had it.
We had no ship nor pinnace in the harbour,
Nor could have aid from any factory:
The nearest to us forty leagues from hence,
And they but few in number: You, besides
This fort, have yet three castles in this isle,
Amply provided for, and eight tall ships
Riding at anchor near; consider this,
And think what all the world will judge of it.

Har. Nothing but falsehood is to be expected
From such a tongue, whose heart is fouled with treason.
Give him the beverage.

Fisc. 'Tis ready, sir.

Har. Hold; I have some reluctance to proceed
To that extremity: He was my friend,
And I would have him frankly to confess:
Push open that prison door, and set before him
The image of his pains in other men.

The Scene opens, and discovers the English tortured, and the Dutch tormenting them.

Fisc. Now, sir, how does the object like you?

Har. Are you yet moved?

Tow. But not as you would have me.
I could weep tears of blood to view this usage;
But you, as if not made of the same mould,
See, with dry eyes, the miseries of men,
As they were creatures of another kind,
Not Christians, nor allies, nor partners with you,
But as if beasts, transfixed on theatres,
To make you cruel sport.

Har. These are but vulgar objects; bring his friend,
Let him behold his tortures; shut that door.[The Scene closed.

Enter Beamont, led with matches tied to his hands.

Tow. [Embracing him.]
Oh my dear friend, now I am truly wretched!
Even in that part which is most sensible,
My friendship:
How have we lived to see the English name
The scorn of these, the vilest of mankind!

Fisc. Confess; if you have kindness, save your friend.

Tow. Yes, by my death I would, not my confession:
He is so brave, he would not so be saved;
But would renounce a friendship built on shame.

Har. Bring more candles, and burn him from the wrists up to the elbows.

Beam. Do; I'll enjoy the flames like Scævola;
And, when one's roasted, give the other hand.

Tow. Let me embrace you while you are a man.
Now you must lose that form; be parched and rivelled,
Like a dried mummy, or dead malefactor,
Exposed in chains, and blown about by winds.

Beam. Yet this I can endure.
Go on, and weary out two elements;
Vex fire and water with the experiments
Of pains far worse than death.

Tow. Oh, let me take my turn!
You will have double pleasure; I'm ashamed
To be the only Englishman untortured.

Van. Her. You soon should have your wish, but that we know
In him you suffer more.

Har. Fill me a brim-full glass:
Now, captain, here's to all your countrymen;
I wish your whole East India company
Were in this room, that we might use them thus.

Beam. Barbarous villains! now you show yourselves

Har. Boy, take that candle thence, and bring it hither;
I am exalted, and would light my pipe
Just where the wick is fed with English fat.

Van Her. So would I; oh, the tobacco tastes divinely after it.

Tow. We have friends in England, who would weep to see
This acted on a theatre, which here
You make your pastime.

Beam. Oh, that this flesh were turned a cake of ice,
That I might in an instant melt away,
And become nothing, to escape this torment!
There is not cold enough in all the north
To quench my burning blood.[Fiscal whispers Harman.

Har. Do with Beamont as you please, so Towerson die.

Fisc. You'll not confess yet, captain?

Tow. Hangman, no;
I would have don't before, if e'er I would:
To do it when my friend has suffered this,
Were to be less than he.

Fisc. Free him.[They free Beamont.
Beamont, I have not sworn you should not suffer.
But that you should not die; thank Julia for it.
But on your life do not delay this hour
To post from hence! so to your next plantation;
I cannot suffer a loved rival near me.

Beam. I almost question if I will receive
My life from thee: 'Tis like a cure from witches;
'Twill leave a sin behind it.

Har. Captain, you're a dead man; I'll spare your torture for your quality; prepare for execution instantly.

Tow. I am prepared.

Fisc. You die in charity, I hope?

Tow. I can forgive even thee:
My innocence I need not name, you know it.
One farewell kiss of my dear Isabinda,
And all my business here on earth is done.

Har. Call her; she's at the door.[Exit Fisc.

Tow. [To Beam. embracing.]
A long and last farewell! I take my death
With the more cheerfulness, because thou liv'st
Behind me: Tell my friends, I died so as
Became a Christian and a man; give to my brave
Employers of the East India company,
The last remembrance of my faithful service;
Tell them, I seal that service with my blood;
And, dying, wish to all their factories,
And all the famous merchants of our isle,
That wealth their generous industry deserves;
But dare not hope it with Dutch partnership.
Last, there's my heart, I give it in this kiss:[Kisses him.
Do not answer me; friendship's a tender thing,
And it would ill become me now to weep.

Beam. Adieu! if I would speak, I cannot—[Exit.

Enter Isabinda.

Isab. Is it permitted me to see your eyes
Once more, before eternal night shall close them?

Isab. Do you still love me?

Tow. Do not suppose I do;
'Tis for your ease, since you must stay behind me,
To think I was unkind; you'll grieve the less.

Har. Though I suspect you joined in my son's murder,
Yet, since it is not proved, you have your life.

Isab. I thank you for't, I'll make the noblest use
Of your sad gift; that is, to die unforced:
I'll make a present of my life to Towerson,
To let you see, though worthless of his love,
I would not live without him.

Tow. I charge you, love my memory, but live.

Har. She shall be strictly guarded from that violence
She means against herself.

Isab. Vain men! there are so many paths to death,
You cannot stop them all: o'er the green turf,
Where my love's laid, there will I mourning sit,
And draw no air but from the damps that rise
Out of that hallowed earth; and for my diet,
I mean my eyes alone shall feed my mouth.
Thus will I live, till he in pity rise,
And the pale shade take me in his cold arms,
And lay me kindly by him in his grave.

Enter Collins, and then Perez, Julia following him.

Har. No more; your time's now come, you must away.

Col. Now, devils, you have done your worst with tortures; death's a privation of pain, but they were a continual dying.

Per. As you love my soul, take hence that woman.—
My English friends, I'm not ashamed of death,
While I have you for partners; I know you innocent,
And so am I, of this pretended plot;
But I am guilty of a greater crime;
For, being married in another country,
The governor's persuasions, and my love
To that ill woman, made me leave the first,
And make this fatal choice.
I'm justly punished; for her sake I die:
The Fiscal, to enjoy her, has accused me.
There is another cause;
By his procurement I should have killed—

Fisc. Away with him, and stop his mouth.[He is led off.

Van. Her. Ay, ay, we'll venture both ourselves and children for such another pull.

1 Dutch. Let him prophecy when his head's off.

2 Dutch. There's ne'er a Nostradamus of them all shall fright us from our gain.

Fisc. Now for a smooth apology, and then a fawning letter to the king of England; and our work's done.

Har. 'Tis done as I would wish it:
Now, brethren, at my proper cost and charges,
Three days you are my guests; in which good time
We will divide their greatest wealth by lots,
While wantonly we raffle for the rest:
Then, in full rummers, and with joyful hearts,
We'll drink confusion to all English starts.[Exeunt.

EPILOGUE

THE

STATE OF INNOCENCE,

AND

FALL OF MAN.

AN
OPERA.

THE STATE OF INNOCENCE, &c.

The "Paradise Lost" of Milton is a work so extraordinary in conception and execution, that it required a lapse of many years to reconcile the herd of readers, and of critics, to what was almost too sublime for ordinary understandings. The poets, in particular, seemed to have gazed on its excellencies, like the inferior animals on Dryden's immortal Hind; and, incapable of fully estimating a merit, which, in some degree, they could not help feeling, many were their absurd experiments to lower it to the standard of their own comprehension. One author, deeming the "Paradise Lost" deficient in harmony, was pleased painfully to turn it into rhyme; and more than one, conceiving the subject too serious to be treated in verse of any kind, employed their leisure in humbling it into prose. The names of these well-judging and considerate persons are preserved by Mr Todd in his edition of Milton's Poetical Works.