SCENE II.--_A Night-Scene of the Mufti's Garden._

_Enter the Mufti alone, in a Slave's Habit, like that of_ ANTONIO.

_Muf._ This it is to have a sound head-piece; by this I have got to be

chief of my religion; that is, honestly speaking, to teach others what

I neither know nor believe myself. For what's Mahomet to me, but that

I get by him? Now for my policy of this night: I have mewed up my

suspected spouse in her chamber;--no more embassies to that lusty

young stallion of a gardener. Next, my habit of a slave; I have made

myself as like him as I can, all but his youth and vigour; which when

I had, I passed my time as well as any of my holy predecessors. Now,

walking under the windows of my seraglio, if Johayma look out, she

will certainly take me for Antonio, and call to me; and by that I

shall know what concupiscence is working in her. She cannot come down

to commit iniquity, there's my safety; but if she peep, if she put her

nose abroad, there's demonstration of her pious will; and I'll not

make the first precedent for a churchman to forgive injuries.

_Enter_ MORAYMA, _running to him with a Casket in her hand, and

embracing him._

_Mor._ Now I can embrace you with a good conscience; here are the

pearls and jewels, here's my father.

_Muf._ I am indeed thy father; but how the devil didst thou know me in

this disguise? and what pearls and jewels dost thou mean?

_Mor._ [_Going back._] What have I done, and what will now become of

me!

_Muf._ Art thou mad, Morayma?

_Mor._ I think you'll make me so.

_Muf._ Why, what have I done to thee? Recollect thyself, and speak

sense to me.

_Mor._ Then give me leave to tell you, you are the worst of fathers.

_Muf._ Did I think I had begotten such a monster!--Proceed, my dutiful

child, proceed, proceed.

_Mor._ You have been raking together a mass of wealth, by indirect and

wicked means: the spoils of orphans are in these jewels, and the tears

of widows in these pearls.

_Muf._ Thou amazest me!

_Mor._ I would do so. This casket is loaded with your sins; 'tis the

cargo of rapines, simony, and extortions; the iniquity of thirty years

muftiship converted into diamonds.

_Muf._ Would some rich railing rogue would say as much to me, that I

might squeeze his purse for scandal!

_Mor._ No, sir, you get more by pious fools than railers, when you

insinuate into their families, manage their fortunes while they live,

and beggar their heirs, by getting legacies, when they die. And do you

think I'll be the receiver of your theft? I discharge my conscience of

it: Here, take again your filthy mammon, and restore it, you had best,

to the true owners.

_Muf._ I am finely documented by my own daughter!

_Mor._ And a great credit for me to be so: Do but think how decent a

habit you have on, and how becoming your function to be disguised like

a slave, and eaves-dropping under the women's windows, to be saluted,

as you deserve it richly, with a piss-pot. If I had not known you

casually by your shambling gait, and a certain reverend awkwardness

that is natural to all of your function, here you had been exposed to

the laughter of your own servants; who have been in search of you

through the whole seraglio, peeping under every petticoat to find you.

_Muf._ Pr'ythee, child, reproach me no more of human failings; they

are but a little of the pitch and spots of the world, that are still

sticking on me; but I hope to scour them out in time. I am better at

bottom than thou thinkest; I am not the man thou takest me for.

_Mor._ No, to my sorrow, sir, you are not.

_Muf._ It was a very odd beginning though, methought, to see thee come

running in upon me with such a warm embrace; pr'ythee, what was the

meaning of that violent hot hug?

_Mor._ I am sure I meant nothing by it, but the zeal and affection

which I bear to the man of the world, whom I may love lawfully.

_Muf._ But thou wilt not teach me, at this age, the nature of a close

embrace?

_Mor._ No, indeed; for my mother-in-law complains, that you are past

teaching: But if you mistook my innocent embrace for sin, I wish

heartily it had been given where it would have been more acceptable.

_Muf._ Why this is as it should be now; take the treasure again, it

can never be put into better hands.

_Mor._ Yes, to my knowledge, but it might. I have confessed my soul to

you, if you can understand me rightly. I never disobeyed you till this

night; and now, since, through the violence of my passion, I have been

so unfortunate, I humbly beg your pardon, your blessing, and your

leave, that, upon the first opportunity, I may go for ever from your

sight; for heaven knows, I never desire to see you more.

_Muf._ [_Wiping his eyes._] Thou makest me weep at thy unkindness;

indeed, dear daughter, we will not part.

_Mor._ Indeed, dear daddy, but we will.

_Muf._ Why, if I have been a little pilfering, or so, I take it

bitterly of thee to tell me of it, since it was to make thee rich; and

I hope a man may make bold with his own soul, without offence to his

own child. Here, take the jewels again; take them, I charge thee, upon

thy obedience.

_Mor._ Well then, in virtue of obedience, I will take them; but, on my

soul, I had rather they were in a better hand.

_Muf._ Meaning mine, I know it.

_Mor._ Meaning his, whom I love better than my life.

_Muf._ That's me again.

_Mor._ I would have you think so.

_Muf._ How thy good nature works upon me! Well, I can do no less than

venture damning for thee; and I may put fair for it, if the rabble be

ordered to rise to-night.

_Enter_ ANTONIO, _in a rich African habit._

_Ant._ What do you mean, my dear, to stand talking in this suspicious

place, just underneath Johayma's window?--[_To the Mufti._] You are

well met, comrade; I know you are the friend of our flight: are the

horses ready at the postern gate?

_Muf._ Antonio, and in disguise! now I begin to smell a rat.

_Ant._ And I another, that out-stinks it. False Morayma, hast thou

thus betrayed me to thy father!

_Mor._ Alas! I was betrayed myself. He came disguised like you, and I,

poor innocent, ran into his hands.

_Muf._ In good time you did so; I laid a trap for a bitch-fox, and a

worse vermin has caught himself in it. You would fain break loose now,

though you left a limb behind you; but I am yet in my own territories,

and in call of company; that's my comfort.

_Ant._ [_Taking him by the throat._] No; I have a trick left to put

thee past thy squeaking. I have given thee the quinsy; that ungracious

tongue shall preach no more false doctrine.

_Mor._ What do you mean? you will not throttle him? consider he's my

father.

_Ant._ Pr'ythee, let us provide first for our own safety; if I do not

consider him, he will consider us, with a vengeance, afterwards.

_Mor._ You may threaten him for crying out; but, for my sake, give him

back a little cranny of his windpipe, and some part of speech.

_Ant._ Not so much as one single interjection.--Come away,

father-in-law, this is no place for dialogues; when you are in the

mosque, you talk by hours, and there no man must interrupt you. This

is but like for like, good father-in-law; now I am in the pulpit, it

is your turn to hold your tongue. [_He struggles._] Nay, if you will

be hanging back, I shall take care you shall hang forward.

[_Pulls him along the Stage, with

his Sword at his Reins._

_Mor._ The other way to the arbour with him; and make haste, before we

are discovered.

_Ant._ If I only bind and gag him there, he may commend me hereafter

for civil usage; he deserves not so much favour by any action of his

life.

_Mor._ Yes, pray bate him one,--for begetting your mistress.

_Ant._ I would, if he had not thought more of thy mother than of thee.

Once more, come along in silence, my Pythagorean father-in-law.

_Joh._ [_At the Balcony._] A bird in a cage may peep, at least, though

she must not fly.--What bustle's there beneath my window? Antonio, by

all my hopes! I know him by his habit. But what makes that woman with

him, and a friend, a sword drawn, and hasting hence? This is no time

for silence:--Who's within? call there, where are the servants? why,

Omar, Abedin, Hassan, and the rest, make haste, and run into the

garden; there are thieves and villains; arm all the family, and stop

them.

_Ant._ [_Turning back._] O that screech owl at the window! we shall be

pursued immediately; which way shall we take?

_Mor._ [_Giving him the Casket._] 'Tis impossible to escape them; for

the way to our horses lies back again by the house, and then we shall

meet them full in the teeth. Here, take these jewels; thou mayst leap

the walls, and get away.

_Ant._ And what will become of thee, then, poor kind soul?

_Mor._ I must take my fortune. When you are got safe into your own

country, I hope you will bestow a sigh on the memory of her who loved

you.

_Ant._ It makes me mad to think, how many a good night will be lost

betwixt us! Take back thy jewels; 'tis an empty casket without thee:

besides, I should never leap well with the weight of all thy father's

sins about me; thou and they had been a bargain.

_Mor._ Pr'ythee take them, 'twill help me to be revenged on him.

_Ant._ No, they'll serve to make thy peace with him.

_Mor._ I hear them coming; shift for yourself at least; remember I am

yours for ever. [_Servants crying,_ "this way, this

way," _behind the Scenes._

_Ant._ And I but the empty shadow of myself without thee!--Farewell,

father-in-law, that should have been, if I had not been curst in my

mother's belly.--Now, which way, Fortune?

[_Runs amazedly backwards and forwards.

Servants within,_ "Follow, follow;

yonder are the villains."

O, here's a gate open; but it leads into the castle; yet I must

venture it. [_A shout behind the Scenes, where_

ANTONIO _is going out._

There's the rabble in a mutiny; what, is the devil up at midnight!

However, 'tis good herding in a crowd.

[_Runs out._ MUFTI _runs to_ MORAYMA,

_and lays hold on her, then snatches

away the Casket._

_Muf._ Now, to do things in order, first I seize upon the bag, and

then upon the baggage; for thou art but my flesh and blood, but these

are my life and soul.

_Mor._ Then let me follow my flesh and blood, and keep to yourself

your life and soul.

_Muf._ Both, or none; come away to durance.

_Mor._ Well, if it must be so, agreed; for I have another trick to

play you, and thank yourself for what shall follow.

_Enter Servants._

_Joh._ [_From above._] One of them took through the private way into

the castle; follow him, be sure, for these are yours already.

_Mor._ Help here quickly, Omar, Abedin! I have hold on the villain

that stole my jewels; but 'tis a lusty rogue, and he will prove too

strong for me. What! help, I say; do you not know your master's

daughter?

_Muf._ Now, if I cry out, they will know my voice, and then I am

disgraced for ever. O thou art a venomous cockatrice!

_Mor._ Of your own begetting. [_The Servants seize him._

_1 Serv._ What a glorious deliverance have you had, madam, from this

bloody-minded Christian!

_Mor._ Give me back my jewels, and carry this notorious malefactor to

be punished by my father.--I'll hunt the other dry-foot.

[_Takes the jewels, and runs out after_

ANTONIO _at the same passage._

_1 Serv._ I long to be hanselling his hide, before we bring him to my

master.

_2 Serv._ Hang him, for an old covetous hypocrite; he deserves a worse

punishment himself, for keeping us so hardly.

_1 Serv._ Ay, would he were in this villain's place! thus I would lay

him on, and thus. [_Beats him._

_2 Serv._ And thus would I revenge myself of my last beating.

[_He beats him too, and then the rest._

_Muf._ Oh, ho, ho!

_1 Serv._ Now, supposing you were the Mufti, sir.--

[_Beats him again._

_Muf._ The devil's in that supposing rascal!--I can bear no more; and

I am the Mufti. Now suppose yourselves my servants, and hold your

hands: an anointed halter take you all!

_1 Serv._ My master!--You will pardon the excess of our zeal for you,

sir: Indeed we all took you for a villain, and so we used you.

_Muf._ Ay, so I feel you did; my back and sides are abundant

testimonies of your zeal.--Run, rogues, and bring me back my jewels,

and my fugitive daughter; run, I say.

[_They run to the gate, and the first

Servant runs back again._

_1 Serv._ Sir, the castle is in a most terrible combustion; you may

hear them hither.

_Muf._ 'Tis a laudable commotion; the voice of the mobile is the voice

of heaven.--I must retire a little, to strip me of the slave, and to

assume the Mufti, and then I will return; for the piety of the people

must be encouraged, that they may help me to recover my jewels, and my

daughter. [_Exeunt Mufti and Servants._

The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 07 · 第 2 / 4 章