Chapter XI: Act IV: , Scene 1

_Enter_ EMANUEL, _King of Portugal_, PRINCE PHILIP, MENDOZA,
ALVERO, _with drums and soldiers marching_.

K. OF PORT. Poor Spain! how is the body of thy peace Mangled and torn by an ambitious Moor. How is thy prince and councillors abus'd, And trodden under the base foot of scorn. Wrong'd lords, Emanuel of Portugal partakes A falling share in all your miseries; And though the tardy hand of slow delay Withheld us from preventing your mishaps Yet shall revenge dart black confusion Into the bosom of that damned fiend.

PHIL. But is it possible our mother-queen Should countenance his ambition?

ALV. Her advice is as a steersman to direct his course; Besides, as we by circumstance have learnt, She means to marry him.

PHIL. Then, here upon my knees, I pluck allegiance from her; all that love, Which by innative duty I did owe her, Shall henceforth be converted into hate. This will confirm the world's opinion That I am base-born, and the damned Moor Had interest in my birth; this wrong alone Gives new fire to the cinders of my rage; I may be well transform'd from what I am, When a black devil is husband to my dam.

K. OF PORT. Prince, let thy rage give way to patience, And set a velvet brow upon the face Of wrinkled anger: our keen swords Must right these wrongs, and not light airy words.

PHIL. Yet words may make the edge of rage more sharp, And whet a blunted courage with revenge.

ALV. Here's none wants whetting, for our keen resolves Are steel'd unto the back with double wrongs; Wrongs that would make a handless man take arms: Wrongs that would make a coward resolute.

CAR. Why, then, join all our several wrongs in one, And from these wrongs assume a firm resolve To send this devil to damnation.

[_Drums afar off._

PHIL. I hear the sound of his approaching march. Stand fair; Saint Jacques for the right of Spain!

_Enter the_ MOOR, RODERIGO, CHRISTOFERO, _with drums,
colours, and soldiers marching bravely_.

ELE. Bastard of Spain!

PHIL. Thou true-stamp'd son of hell, Thy pedigree is written in thy face.

[_Alarum and a battle; the_ MOOR _prevails: all exeunt_.

SCENE II.

_Enter_ PHILIP _and_ CARDINAL.

PHIL. Move forward with your main battalion, Or else all's lost.

CAR. I will not move a foot.

PHIL. S'heart! will you lose the day?

CAR. You lose your wits, You're mad; it is no policy.

PHIL. You lie.

CAR. Lie!

PHIL. Lie! a pox upon't, cardinal, come on, Second the desperate vanguard which is mine, And where I'll die or win. Follow my sword The bloody way I lead it, or, by heaven, I'll play the devil, and mar all! we'll turn our backs Upon the Moors, and set on thee; ay, thee, Thee, cardinal! s'heart! thee.

CAR. Your desperate arm Hath almost thrust quite through the heart of hope: Our fortunes lie a-bleeding by your rash And violent onset.

PHIL. O, O, s'life! s'foot! will you [not] fight?

CAR. We will not hazard all upon one cast.

PHIL. You will not?

CAR. No.

PHIL. Coward!

CAR. By deeds I'll try. Whether your venomous tongue says true. Farewell; Courage shines both in this and policy.

[_Exit._

PHIL. To save thy skin whole, that's thy policy. You whoreson fat-chapp'd guts, Ill melt away That larded body by the heat of fight, Which I'll compel thee to, or else by flying: To work which I'll give way to the proud foe. Whilst I stand laughing to behold you run. Cardinal, I'll do't, I'll do't; a Moor, a Moor! Philip cries a Moor! holla! la! whoo!

_Enter_ KING OF PORTUGAL.

K. OF PORT. Prince Philip! Philip!

PHIL. Here: plague, where's the Moor?

K. OF PORT. The Moor's a devil: never did horrid fiend, Compell'd by some magician's mighty charm, Break through the prisons of the solid earth With more strange horror than this prince of hell, This damned negro, lion-like doth rush Through all, and spite of all knit opposition.

PHIL. Puh, puh! where, where? I'll meet him: where? You mad me! 'Tis not his arm That acts such wonders, but our cowardice. This cardinal, O, this cardinal is a slave.

_Enter_ CAPTAIN.

CAPT. Sound a retreat, or else the day is lost!

PHIL. I'll beat that dog to death that sounds retreat.

K. OF PORT. Philip!

PHIL. I'll tear his heart out that dares name that sound.

K. OF PORT. Sound a retreat.

PHIL. Who's that? you tempt my sword, sir; Continue this alarum, fight pell-mell; Fight, kill, be damn'd. This fat-back, coward cardinal Lies heavy on my shoulders; this, ay, this, Shall fling him off. Sound a retreat? Zounds! you mad me! Ambition plumes the Moor, whilst black despair, Offering to tear from him the diadem Which he usurps, makes him to cry at all, And to act deeds beyond astonishment. But Philip is the night that darks his glories: This sword, yet reeking with his negro's blood, Being grasp'd by equity and this strong arm, Shall through and through.

ALL. Away, then!

PHIL. From before me. Stay, stand, stand fast: fight. A Moor, a Moor.

SCENE III.

_Enter_ ELEAZAR, ZARACK, BALTHAZAR, RODERIGO, CHRISTOFERO,
_and others; they fight: Moors are all beat in. Exeunt
omnes. Manet_ ELEAZAR, _weary; a Moor lies slain_.

ELE. O, for more work, more souls to post to hell, That I might pile up Charon's boat so full, Until it topple o'er! O, 'twould be sport To see them sprawl through the black slimy lake. Ha, ha! there's one going thither: sirrah! you, You slave, who kill'd thee? How he grins! this breast, Had it been temper'd and made proof like mine, It never would have been a mark for fools To hit afar off with their dastard bullets. But thou didst well; thou knew'st I was thy lord, And out of love and duty to me here, Where I fell weary, thou laidst down thyself To bear me up thus: God-a-mercy, slave, A king for this shall give thee a rich grave.

_As he sits down, enter_ PHILIP _with a broken sword_.

PHIL. I'll wear thee to the pommel, but I'll find The subject of mine honour and revenge. Moor, 'tis for thee I seek! come, now, now take me At good advantage. Speak! where art thou?

ELE. Here!

PHIL. Fate and revenge, I thank you. Rise!

ELE. Leave and live.

PHIL. Villain, it is Philippo that bids rise.

ELE. It had been good for thee to have hid thy name; For the discovery, like to a dangerous charm, Hurts him that finds it. Wherefore do those bloodhounds, Thy rage and valour, chase me?

PHIL. Why? to kill thee.

ELE. With that? what, a blunt axe! Think'st thou, I'll let Thy fury take a full blow at this head, Having these arms? Be wise, go change thy weapon.

PHIL. O sir!

ELE. I'll stay thy coming.

PHIL. Thou'lt be damn'd first.

ELE. By all our Indian gods----

PHIL. Puh! never swear. Thou know'st 'tis for a kingdom which we fight, And for that who'll not venture to hell-gates? Come, Moor, I'm arm'd with more than complete steel-- The justice of my quarrel: when I look Upon my father's wrongs, my brother's wounds, My mother's infamy, Spain's misery, And lay my finger here; O, 'tis too dull To let out blood enough to quench them all. But when I see your face, and know what fears Hang on thy troubled soul, like leaden weights, To make it sink, I know this finger's touch Has strength to throw thee down; I know this iron Is sharp and long enough to reach that head. Fly not, devil; if thou do----

ELE. How? fly? O, base!

PHIL. Come then.

ELE. Stay, Philip; whosoe'er begat thee----

PHIL. Why, slave, a king begat me.

ELE. May be so; But I'll be sworn thy mother was a queen; For her sake will I kill thee nobly. Fling me thy sword; there's mine. I scorn to strike A man disarm'd.

PHIL. For this dishonouring me, I'll give thee one stab more.

ELE. I'll run away, Unless thou change that weapon, or take mine.

PHIL. Neither.

ELE. Farewell.

PHIL. S'heart! stay; and if you dare, Do as I do, oppose thy naked breast Against this poniard; see! here's this for thine.

ELE. I am for thee, Philip.

PHIL. Come, nay, take more ground, That with a full career thou may'st strike home.

ELE. Thou'lt run away then?

PHIL. Ha!

ELE. Thou'lt run away then?

PHIL. Faith I will; but first on this I'll bear Thy panting heart, thy head upon thy spear.

ELE. Come.

_Enter_ CARDINAL _and_ KING OF PORTUGAL _on the one, and_
MOORS _on the other side_.

CAR. Side, upon the Moors.

1ST MOOR. Side, upon the cardinal.

PHIL. Hold, cardinal; strike not any of our side.

ELE. Hold, Moors; strike not any of our side.

PHIL. We two will close this battle.

ELE. Come, agreed. Stand, armies, and give aim, whilst we two bleed.

CAR. With poniards! 'tis too desperate, dear Philip.

PHIL. Away! have at the Moor! s'heart! let me come.

KING OF P. Be arm'd with manly weapons: 'tis for slaves To dig their own and such unworthy graves.

ELE. I am for thee any way: thus or, see, thus; Here try the vigour of thy sinewy arm. The day is ours already; brainless heads And bleeding bodies, like a crown, do stand About the temples of our victory. Yet, Spaniards, if you dare, we'll fight it out Thus, man to man alone. I'll first begin And conquer, or in blood wade up to the chin.

PHIL. Let not a weapon stir but his and mine.

ELE. Nor on this side; conquest in blood shall shine.

[_Alarum; they fight, the Moor is struck down, which his side
seeing, step all in and rescue him; the rest join, and
drive in the Moors. Alarum continuing, Spaniards and
Moors, with drums and colours, fly over the stage, pursued
by_ PHILIP, CARDINAL, KING OF PORTUGAL, _and others_.

_Enter_ ZARACK, CHRISTOFERO, _and_ ELEAZAR, _at several doors_.

CHRIS. Where is my lord?

ZAR. Where is my sovereign?

ELE. What news brings Zarack and Christofero?

ZAR. O, fly, my lords, fly, for the day is lost!

ELE. There are three hundred and odd days in a year, And cannot we lose one of them? come, fight.

CHRIS. The lords have left us, and the soldiers faint; You are round-beset with proud fierce enemies; Death cannot be prevented but by flight.

ELE. He shall, Christofero. I have yet left One stratagem that, in despite of fate, Shall turn the wheel of war about once more. The mother-queen hath all this while sat sadly Within our tent, expecting to whose bosom White-winged peace and victory will fly: Her have I us'd as a fit property To stop this dangerous current; her have I sent, Arm'd with love's magic, to enchant the cardinal, And bind revenge down with resistless charms; By this time does she hang about his neck, And by the witchcraft of a cunning kiss Has she disarm'd him. Hark! they sound retreat; She has prevail'd; a woman's tongue and eye Are weapons stronger than artillery.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

_Enter_ CARDINAL, QUEEN-MOTHER, SOLDIERS, _drums and colours_.

QUEEN-M. By all those sighs which thou, like passionate tunes, Hast often to my dull ears offered, By all thy hopes to enjoy my royal bed, By all those mourning lines which thou hast sent, Weeping in black, to tell thy languishment; By love's best, richest treasure, which I swear I will bestow, and which none else shall wear, As the most prized jewel, but thyself; By that bright fire which, flaming through thine eyes, From thy love-scorched bosom does arise, I do conjure thee, let no churlish sound, With war's lewd horror my desires confound. Dear, dear Mendoza; thus I do entreat, That still thou wouldst continue this retreat; I'll hang upon thee, till I hear thee say, Woman, prevail; or chiding, cri'st _Away_.

CAR. Is there no trick in this, forg'd by the Moor?

QUEEN-M. I would the Moor's damnation were the ransom Of all the innocent blood that has been shed In this black day: I care not for the Moor; Love to my kingdom's peace makes me put on This habit of a suppliant; shall I speed?

CAR. You shall, were it to have my bosom bleed; I have no power to spare the negro's head, When I behold the wounds which his black hand Has given mine honour: but when I look on you, I have no power to hate him; since your breath Dissolves my frozen heart, being spent for him; In you my life must drown itself or swim. You have prevail'd: drum, swiftly hence; call back Our fierce-pursuing troops, that run to catch The laurel wreath of conquest: let it stand Awhile untouch'd by any soldier's hand.

[_Exit drum._

Away! stay you and guard us. Where's the Moor? I'll lose what I have got, a victor's prize, Yielding myself a prisoner to your eyes.

QUEEN-M. Mine eyes shall quickly grant you liberty. The Moor stays my return; I'll put on wings, And fetch him; to make peace belongs to kings.

_As she goes out, enter_ ELEAZAR, ZARACK, BALTHAZAR, _and
Soldiers well armed; at sight of each other, all draw_.

CAR. Soldiers, call back the drum: we are betray'd.

ELE. Moors, stand upon your guard; avoid, look back.

QUEEN-M. What means this jealousy? Mendoza, Moor, Lay by your weapons and embrace; the sight Of this and this begets suspicion. Eleazar, by my birth, he comes in peace: Mendoza, by mine honour, so comes he.

CAR. Discharge these soldiers then.

ELE. And these.

[_Soldiers stand aloof._

CAR. Away!

ELE. Go!

QUEEN-M. Soul, rejoice, to see this glorious day.

[_She joins them together; they embrace._

CAR. Your virtues work this wonder. I have met At her most dear command: what's your desires?

ELE. Peace and your honour'd arms: how loathingly I sounded the alarums, witness heaven. 'Twas not to strike your breast, but to let out The rank blood of ambition. That Philip Makes you his ladder, and being climb'd so high As he may reach a diadem, there you lie. He's base-begotten,--that's his mother's sin.

QUEEN-M. God pardon it.

ELE. Ah! amen. But he's a bastard, And rather than I'll kneel to him, I'll saw My legs off by the thighs, because I'll stand In spite of reverence: he's a bastard, he's! And to beat down his usurpation I have thrown about this thunder: but, Mendoza, The people hate him for his birth; He only leans on you, you are his pillar; You gone, he walks on crutches, or else falls. Then shrink from under him; are not they Fools that, bearing others up, themselves seem low, Because they above sit high; why, you do so.

CAR. 'Tis true.

QUEEN-M. Behold this error with fix'd eyes.

CAR. 'Tis true. Well?

ELE. O, have you found it? Have you smelt The train of powder that must blow you up, Up into air? What air? Why this, a breath; Look you; in this time may a king meet death. [Have] an eye to't, check it, check it.

CAR. How?

ELE. How? thus-- Steal from the heat of that incestuous blood, Where ravish'd honour and Philippo lies; Leave him; divide this huge and monstrous body Of armed Spaniards into limbs thus big: Part man from man, send every soldier home; I'll do the like: peace with an olive branch Shall fly with dovelike wings about all Spain; The crown, which I as a good husband keep, I will lay down upon the empty chair; Marry you the queen, and fill it: for my part, These knees are yours, sir.

CAR. Is this sound?

ELE. From my heart.

CAR. If you prove false----

ELE. If I do, let fire fall----

CAR. Amen.

ELE. Upon thy head [_Aside_]; and so it shall.

CAR. All of myself is yours; soldiers, begone.

ELE. And that way you.

CAR. The rest I will divide: The lords shall be convented.

ELE. Good.

CAR. Let's meet.

QUEEN-M. Where?

ELE. Here anon: this [_Aside_] is thy winding-sheet.

[_Exit_ CARDINAL. _The Moor walks up and down musing._

QUEEN-M. What shape will this prodigious womb bring forth, Which groans with such strange labour?

ELE. Excellent!

QUEEN-M. Why, Eleazar, art thou rapt with joys, Or does thy sinking policy make to shore?

ELE. Ha!

QUEEN-M. Eleazar, madman! hear'st thou, Moor?

ELE. Well so; you turn my brains; you mar the face Of my attempts i' the making; for this chaos, This lump of projects, ere it be lick'd over, 'Tis like a bear's conception; stratagems, Being but begot and not got out, are like Charg'd cannons not discharg'd--they do no harm Nor good. True policy, breeding in the brain, Is like a bar of iron, whose ribs being broken And soften'd in the fire, you then may forge it Into a sword to kill, or to a helmet to defend, Life. 'Tis therefore wit to try all fashions, Ere you apparel villany. But--but I ha' suited him; fit, fit, O, fit!

QUEEN-M. How, prythee, how?

ELE. Why, thus;--yet, no;--let's hence My heart is nearest of my council, yet I scarce dare trust my heart with't; what I do, It shall look old the hour wherein 'tis born; Wonders twice seen are garments overworn.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE V.

_Enter_ CARDINAL _at one door_; PHILIPPO _half-armed, and two_
SOLDIERS _following him with the rest of the armour; the_
CARDINAL, _seeing him, turns back again_.

PHIL. Sirrah! you, cardinal! coward! run away! So ho, ho! what, cardinal!

CAR. I am not for your lure.

[_Exit._

PHIL. For that then, O, [_Touching his sword_] that it had nail'd thy heart Up to the pommel to the earth; come, arm me. Ha! 'sfoot! when all our swords were royally gilt with blood, When with red sweat, that trickled from our wounds, We had dearly earn'd a victory; when hell Had from their hinges heav'd off her iron gates, To bid the damn'd Moor and the devils enter, Then to lose all, then to sound base retreat; Why, soldiers, ha!

1ST SOL. I am glad of it, my lord.

PHIL. Ha, glad! art glad I am dishonoured, That thou and he [have me] dishonoured?

1ST SOL. Why, my lord, I am glad that you so cleanly did come off.

PHIL. Thou hast a lean face and a carrion heart; A plague on him and thee too: then, 'sheart! then To crack the very heart-strings of our army-- To quarter it in pieces--I could tear my hair, And in cursing spend my soul; Cardinal! what, Judas! come, we'll fight, Till there be left but one; if I be he, I'll die a glorious death.

1ST SOL. So will I, I hope, in my bed.

[_Aside._]

2D SOL. Till there be but one left, my lord? Why, that's now; for all our fellows are crawled home; some with one leg, some ne'er an arm, some with their brains beaten out, and glad they 'scaped so.

PHIL. But, my dear countrymen, you'll stick to me?

1ST SOL. Stick! ay, my lord, stick like bandogs, till we be pulled off.

PHIL. That's nobly said: I'll lead you but to death, Where I'll have greatest share; we shall win fame For life, and that doth crown a soldier's name.

1ST SOL. How! to death, my lord? Not I, by Gad's-lid: I have a poor wife and children at home, and, if I die, they beg: and do you think I'll see her go up and down the wide universal world?

PHIL. For every drop of blood which thou shalt lose, Coward, I'll give thy wife a wedge of gold.

2D SOL. Hang him, meacock! my lord, arm yourself; I'll fight for you, till I have not an eye to see the fire in my touch-hole.

PHIL. Be thou a king's companion; thou and I Will dare the cardinal and the Moor to fight In single combat; shall we, ha?

2D SOL. Agreed.

PHIL. We'll beat'm to hell-gate; shall we, ha?

2D SOL. Hell-gate's somewhat too hot, somewhat too hot; the porter's a knave: I'd be loth to be damned for my conscience; I'll knock any body's costard, so I knock not there, my lord; hell-gates!

PHIL. A pox upon such slaves!

1ST SOL. Hang him, a peasant! my lord, you see I am but a scrag; my lord, my legs are not of the biggest, nor the least, nor the best that e'er were stood upon--nor the worst; but they are of God's making; and for your sake, if ever we put our enemies to flight again, by Gad's-lid, if I run not after them like a tiger, hough[68] me.

PHIL. But wilt thou stand to't ere they fly, ha, wilt thou?

1ST SOL. Will I, quoth-a! by this hand and the honour of a soldier.

PHIL. And by a soldier's honour I will load thee With Spanish pistolets: to have this head, Thy face, and all thy body stuck with scars, Why 'tis a sight more glorious than to see A lady hung with diamonds. If thou lose A hand, I'll send this after; if an arm, I'll lend thee one of mine; come then, let's fight. A mangled, lame, true soldier is a gem Worth Cæsar's empire, though fools spurn at them.

1ST SOL. Yet, my lord, I have seen lame soldiers not worth the crutches they leant upon; hands and arms, quoth-he! Zounds! not I. I'll double my files, or stand sentry, or so; but I'll be hanged and quartered, before I'll have my members cut off.

2D SOL. And I too: hold thee there.

PHIL. Hold you both there; away, you rogues, you dirt!

[_Beats them both in._

Thus do I tread upon you; out, begone! One valiant is an host: fight then alone.

_Enter_ CARDINAL, ALVERO, CHRISTOFERO, _and Soldiers_.

CAR. Prince Philip.

PHIL. For the crown of Spain, come all.

CAR. We come in love and peace.

PHIL. But come in war; Bring naked swords, not laurel boughs, in peace! Plague on your rank peace! will you fight and cry, Down with the Moor? and then I'm yours; I'll die. I have a heart, two arms, a soul, a head; I'll lay that down; I'll venture all--'sfoot, all! Come, tread upon me, so that Moor may fall.

CAR. By heaven, that Moor shall fall.

PHIL. Thy hand and thine.

[_Flings down his weapons._

Give me but half your hearts, you have all mine; By heaven, shall he fall?

CAR. Yes, upon thee, Like to the ruins of a tower, to grind Thy body into dust. Traitor and bastard, I do arrest thee of high treason.

PHIL. Ha! Traitor and bastard! and by thee? my weapons!

CAR. Lay hands upon him!

PHIL. Ah! you're best do so.

CAR. Alvero, there's the warrant; to your hands The prisoner is committed. Lords, let's part: Look to him, on your life.

[_Exeunt_ CARDINAL, _&c._

_Manent_ PHILIP _and_ ALVERO.

PHIL. Heart! heart! heart! heart!

[_Tears the warrant._

The devil and his dam, the Moor and my mother, Their warrant I will not obey: old greybeard, Thou shalt not be my jailer; there's no prison, No dungeon deep enough, no grates so strong, That can keep in a man so mad with wrong. What, dost thou weep?

ALV. I would fain shed a tear, But from mine eyes so many show'rs are gone; Grief drinks my tears so fast, that here's not one. You must to prison.

PHIL. Dost thou speak to me?

ALV. You must to prison.

PHIL. And from thence to death. I thought I should have had a tomb hung round With tatter'd colours, broken spears; I thought My body should have fallen down full of wounds; But one can kill an emperor, fool; then why Wouldst thou have many? Curse, be mad, and die.

[_Exeunt._