Chapter VII: Act V

SCENE I. _A Presence-Chamber, with a Throne and Canopy.

Enter_ Abdelazer, Cardinal, Alonzo, Ordonio, Roderigo,
_and other Lords, one bearing the Crown, which is laid on
the Table on a Cushion; the_ Queen, Leonora, _and Ladies.
They all seat themselves, leaving the Throne and Chair
of State empty_. Abdelazer _rises and bows_, Roderigo
_kneeling, presents him with the Crown_.

_Abd_. Grandees of _Spain_, if in this royal Presence There breathes a Man, who having laid his hold So fast on such a Jewel, and dares wear it, In the Contempt of Envy, as I dare; Yet uncompell’d (as freely as the Gods Bestow their Blessings) wou’d give such Wealth away; Let such a Man stand forth--are ye all fix’d? No wonder, since a King’s a Deity. And who’d not be a God? This glorious Prospect, when I first saw the Light, Met with my Infant Hopes; nor have those Fetters (Which e’er they grew towards Men, Spain taught me how to wear) Made me forget what’s due to that illustrious Birth; --Yet thus--I cast aside the Rays of Majesty-- [_Kneels, and lays the Crown on the Table_. And on my Knee do humbly offer up This splendid powerful thing, and ease your Fears Of Usurpation and of Tyranny.

_Alon_. What new Device is this? [_Aside_.

_Card_. This is an Action generous and just-- Let us proceed to new Election.

_Abd_. Stay, Peers of _Spain_, If young Prince _Philip_ be King _Philip’s_ Son, Then is he Heir to _Philip_, and his Crown; But if a Bastard, then he is a Rebel, And as a Traitor to the Crown shou’d bleed: That dangerous popular Spirit must be laid, Or _Spain_ must languish under civil Swords; And _Portugal_ taking advantage of those Disorders, (Assisted by the Male-contents within, If _Philip_ live) will bring Confusion home. --Our Remedy for this is first to prove, And then proclaim him Bastard.

_Alon_. That Project wou’d be worth your Politicks [_Aside_. --How shou’d we prove him Bastard?

_Abd_. Her Majesty being lately urg’d by Conscience, And much above her Honour prizing _Spain_, Declar’d this Secret, but has not nam’d the Man; If he be noble and a _Spaniard_ born, He shall repair her Fame by marrying her.

_Card_. No; Spaniard, or Moor, the daring Slave shall die.

_Qu_. Would I were cover’d with a Veil of Night, [_Weeps_. That I might hide the Blushes on my Cheeks! But when your Safety comes into Dispute, My Honour, nor my Life must come in competition. --I’ll therefore hide my Eyes, and blushing own, That _Philip’s_ Father is i’th’ Presence now.

_Alon_. I’th’ Presence! name him.

_Qu_. The Cardinal--
[_All rise in Amazement_.

_Card_. How’s this, Madam!

_Abd_. How! the Cardinal!

_Card_. I _Philip’s_ Father, Madam!

_Qu_. Dull Lover--is not all this done for thee! Dost thou not see a Kingdom and my self, By this Confession, thrown into thy Arms?

_Card_. On Terms so infamous I must despise it.

_Qu_. Have I thrown by all Sense of Modesty, To render you the Master of my Bed, To be refus’d--was there any other way?--

_Card_. I cannot yield; this Cruelty transcends All you have ever done me--Heavens! what a Contest Of Love and Honour swells my rising Heart!

_Qu_. By all my Love, if you refuse me now, Now when I have remov’d all Difficulties, I’ll be reveng’d a thousand killing ways.

_Card_. Madam, I cannot own so false a thing, My Conscience and Religion will not suffer me.

_Qu_. Away with all this Canting; Conscience, and Religion! No, take advice from nothing but from Love.

_Card_. ‘Tis certain I’m bewitch’d--she has a Spell Hid in those charming Lips.

_Alon_. Prince Cardinal, what say you to this?

_Card_. I cannot bring it forth--

_Qu_. Do’t, or thou’rt lost for ever.

_Card_. Death! What’s a Woman’s Power! And yet I can resist it.

_Qu_. And dare you disobey me?

_Card_. Is’t not enough I’ve given you up my Power, Nay, and resign’d my Life into your Hands, But you wou’d damn me too--I will not yield-- Oh, now I find a very Hell within me; How am I misguided by my Passion!

_Alon_. Sir, we attend your Answer.

_Qu_. ‘Tis now near twenty Years, when newly married, (And ‘tis the Custom here to marry young,) King _Philip_ made a War in _Barbary_, Won _Tunis_, conquer’d Fez, and hand to hand Slew great _Abdela_, King of _Fez_, and Father To this _Barbarian_ Prince.

_Abd_. I was but young, and yet I well remember My Father’s Wound--poor _Barbary_--but no more.

_Qu_. In absence of my King I liv’d retir’d, Shut up in my Apartment with my Women, Suffering no Visits, but the Cardinal’s, To whom the King had left me as his Charge; But he, unworthy of that Trust repos’d, Soon turned his Business into Love.

_Card_. Heavens! how will this Story end? [_Aside_.

_Qu_. A Tale, alas! unpleasant to my Ear, And for the which I banish’d him my Presence, But oh, the power of Gold! he bribes my Women, That they should tell me (as a Secret too) The King (whose Wars were finish’d) would return Without acquainting any with the time; He being as jealous, as I was fair and young, Meant to surprize me in the dead of Night: This pass’d upon my Youth, which ne’er knew Art.

_Card_. Gods! is there any Hell but Woman’s Falshood! [Aside.

_Qu_. The following Night I hasted to my Bed, To wait my expected Bliss--nor was it long Before his gentle Steps approach’d my Ears. Undress’d he came, and with a vigorous haste Flew to my yielding Arms: I call’d him King, My dear lov’d Lord; and in return he breath’d Into my Bosom, in soft gentle Whispers, My Queen! my Angel! my lov’d _Isabella_! And at that word--I need not tell the rest.

_Alon_. What’s all this, Madam, to the Cardinal?

_Qu_. Ah, Sir, the Night too short for his Caresses, Made room for Day, Day that betray’d my Shame; For in my guilty Arms I found the Cardinal.

_Alon_. Madam, why did not you complain of this?

_Qu_, Alas, I was but young, and full of Fears; Bashful, and doubtful of a just Belief, Knowing King _Philip’s_ rash and jealous Temper; But from your Justice I expect Revenge.

_Rod_. His Crime, my Lords, is Death, by all our Laws.

_Card_. Have you betray’d me by my too much Faith? Oh shameless Creature, am I disarm’d for this? Had I but so much Ease to be inrag’d, Sure I shou’d kill thee for this Treachery: But I’m all Shame, and Grief--By all that’s holy, My Lords, I never did commit this Crime.

_Abd_. ‘Tis but in vain, Prince Cardinal, to deny it.

_Qu_. Do not believe him, Lords;-- Revenge--let Sentence pass upon the Traitor.

_Card_. I own that Name with Horror, which you drew me to, When I betray’d the best of Men, and Princes; And ‘tis but just you fit me for Despairs, That may instruct me how to follow him in Death: Yet as I’m Prince o’th’ Blood, and Cardinal too, You cannot be my Judges.

_Abd_. You shall be try’d, Sir, as becomes your Quality. _Osmin_, we commit the Cardinal to your Charge.

_Card_. Heaven! should I live to that! No, I have within me a private Shame, That shall secure me from the publick one.

_Alon_. A pretty turn of State!--we shall all follow, Sir.

_Card_. The Powers above are just: Thus I my Prince a Sacrifice first made, And now my self am on the Altar laid. [_Ex_. Card, _guarded_.

_Abd_. Madam, retire, you’ve acted so divinely, You’ve fill’d my Soul with new admiring Passion: I’ll wait on you in your Apartment instantly, And at your Feet pay all my Thanks, and Love.

_Qu_. Make haste, my dearest Moor, whilst I retire, And fit my Soul to meet thy kind Desire.

[_Ex_. Queen _and her Train_; Leon, _advancing to
follow, is staid by_ Abd.

_Abd_. Stay, beauteous Maid, stay, and receive that Crown, [_Leads her back_. Which as your due, Heav’n and all _Spain_ present you with.

_Alon_. But granting _Philip_ is--that thing you call him, If we must grant him so, who then shall reign? Not that we do not know who ought to reign, But ask who ‘tis you will permit to do so. [_To_ Abd.

_Abd_. Who but bright _Leonora_! the Royal Off-spring Of noble _Philip_, whose Innocence and Beauty, Without th’ advantage of her glorious Birth, Merits all Adoration.

_All_. With Joy we do salute her Queen.

_Abd_. Live _Leonora_! beauteous Queen of _Spain!
[Shout_.

_Alon_. From _Abdelazer_ this! it cannot be, At least not real. [_Aside_.

_Abd_. My Lords, Be it now your Care magnificently to provide Both for the Coronation, and the Marriage Of the fair Queen; Let nothing be omitted that may shew, How we can pay, where we so vastly owe. [_Bows_.

_Alon_. I am much bound to _Spain_, and you, my Lords, For this great Condescenion.

_Leo_. My Lords, I thank ye all, And most the gallant Moor--I am not well-- [_Turns to Alon_. Something surrounds my Heart so full of Death, I must retire to give my Sorrow Breath.

[_Ex_. Leo. _followed by all but_ Abd. _and_ Rod. _who
looks on_ Abd.

_Rod_. Sir,--what have you done?

_Abd_. What every Man that loves like me shou’d do; Undone my self for ever, to beget One Moment’s thought in her, that I adore her; That she may know, none ever lov’d like me, I’ve thrown away the Diadem of _Spain_-- ’.is gone! and there’s no more to set but this-- (My Heart) at all, and at this one last Cast, Sweep up my former Losses, or be undone.

_Rod_. You court at a vast Rate, Sir.

_Abd_. Oh, she’s a Goddess! a Creature made by Heaven To make my prosperous Toils all sweet and charming! She must be Queen, I and the Gods decree it.

_Rod_. Sir, is she not designed _Alonzo’s_ Bride?

_Abd_. Yes, so her self and he have ill agreed; But Heav’n and I am of another Mind, And must be first obey’d.

_Rod. Alonzo_ will not yield his Interest easily.

_Abd_. Wou’d that were all my stop to Happiness; But, _Roderigo_, this fond amorous Queen Sits heavy on my Heart.

_Rod_. She’s but a Woman, nor has more Lives than one.

_Abd_. True, _Roderigo_, and thou hast dealt in Murders, And knowest the safest way to--

_Rod_. How, Sir!--

_Abd_. Thou dar’st not sure pretend to any Virtue; Had Hell inspir’d thee with less Excellency Than Arts of killing Kings, thou’dst ne’er been rais’d To that exalted Height, t’ have known my Secrets.

_Rod_. But, Sir--

_Abd_. Slave, look back upon the Wretchedness I took thee from; What Merits had thou to deserve my Bounty, But Vice, brave prosperous Vice? Thou’rt neither wise, nor valiant.

_Rod_. I own my self that Creature rais’d by you, And live but to repay you, name the way.

_Abd_. My business is--to have the Queen remov’d; She does expect my coming this very Hour; And when she does so, ‘tis her Custom to be retir’d, Dismissing all attendance, but _Elvira_.

_Rod_. The rest I need not be instructed in.
[_Ex_. Rod.

_Enter_ Osmin.

_Osm_. The Cardinal, Sir, is close confin’d with _Philip_.

_Abd_. ‘Tis well.

_Osm_. And do you think it fit, Sir, they shou’d live?

_Abd_. No, this day they both must die, some sort of Death, That may be thought was given them by themselves: I’m sure I give them cause--_Osmin_, view well this Ring; Whoever brings this Token to your Hands, Without considering Sex, or Quality, Let ‘em be kill’d.

_Osm_. Your Will shall be obey’d in every thing.

[_Exeunt severally_.

SCENE II. _A fine Chamber. A Table and Chair_.

_Enter_ Queen _and_ Elvira.

_Qu. Elvira_, hast thou drest my Lodgings up, Fit to receive my Moor? Are they all gay, as Altars, when some Monarch Is there to offer up rich Sacrifices? Hast thou strew’d all the Floor his Feet must press, With the soft new-born Beauties of the Spring?

_Elv_. Madam, I’ve done as you commanded me.

_Qu_. Let all the Chambers too be fill’d with Lights; There’s a Solemnity methinks in Night, That does insinuate Love into the Soul, And make the bashful Lover more assur’d.

_Elv_. Madam, You speak as if this were your first Enjoyment.

_Qu_. My first! Oh _Elvira_, his Power, like his Charms, His Wit, or Bravery, every hour renews; Love gathers Sweets like Flow’rs, which grow more fragrant, The nearer they approach Maturity. [_Knock_. --Hark! ‘tis my Moor,--give him admittance strait, The Thought comes o’er me like a gentle Gale, Raising my Blood into a thousand Curls.

_Elv_. Madam, it is a Priest--

_Qu_. A Priest! Oh, send him quickly hence; I wou’d not have so cold and dull an Object, Meet with my nobler Sense, ‘tis mortifying.

_Elv_. Perhaps ‘tis some Petition from the Cardinal.

_Qu_. Why, what have I to do with Priest or Cardinal? Let him not enter--

[Elv. _goes out, and returns with_ Roderigo _drest like a Fryar_.

_Elv_. From _Abdelazer_, Madam.

_Qu_. H’as named a Word will make all Places free.

_Rod_. Madam, be pleas’d to send your Woman hence, I’ve something to deliver from the Moor, Which you alone must be acquainted with.

_Qu_. Well, your Formality shall be allowed--retire-- [_To_ Elv. _Exit_ Elv. What have you to deliver to me now?

_Rod_. This--

[_Shews a Dagger, and takes her roughly by the Hands_.

_Qu_. Hah!--

_Rod_. You must not call for help, unless to Heaven.

_Qu_. What daring thing art thou?

_Rod_. One that has now no time to answer thee.

[_Stabs her, she struggles, her Arm bleeds_.

_Qu_. Oh, hold thy killing Hand! I am thy Queen.

_Rod_. Thou may’st be Devil too, for ought I know; I’ll try thy Substance thus-- [_Stabs again_.

_Qu_. Oh, _Abdelazer_!-- Thou hast well reveng’d me--on my Sins of Love;-- [_He seats her in the Chair_. But shall I die thus tamely unrcveng’d? --Help--murder--help-- [_He offers to stab again_.

_Enter_ Elvira, _and other Women_.

_Elv_. Oh Heavens! the Queen is murder’d--help the Queen!

[Rod. _offers to stab_ Elv.

_Enter_ Abdelazer.

_Abd_. Hah! the Queen! what sacrilegious Hand, Or Heart so brutal-- Durst thus profane the Shrine ador’d by me? Guard well the Passages.--

_Qu_. Thou art that sacrilegious--brutal thing!-- And false as are the Deities thou worship’st.

_Abd_. Gods! let me not understand that killing Language? --Inform me quickly, how you came thus wounded, Lest looking on that sacred Stream of Blood, I die e’er I’ve reveng’d you on your Murderer.

_Qu_. Haste then, and kill thy self; thou art my Murderer. Nor had his Hand, if not by thee instructed, Aim’d at a Sin so dangerous--

_Abd_. Surely she’ll live--[_Aside_.]--This!-- Can Mischief dwell beneath this reverend Shape? Confess who taught thee so much Cruelty. Confess, or I will kill thee.

_Rod_. The Cardinal.

_Qu_. The Cardinal!

_Abd_. Oh impious Traitor! How came I mention’d then?

_Rod_. To get Admittance.

_Abd_. But why do I delay thy Punishment? Die,--and be damn’d together. [_Aside.] [Stabs him_. But oh, my Queen!--_Elvira_, call for help. Have I remov’d all that oppos’d our Flame, [_Kneels_. To have it thus blown out, thus in a Minute? When I, all full of youthful Fire, all Love, Had rais’d my Soul with Hopes of near Delights, To meet thee cold, and pale; to find those Eyes, Those charming Eyes thus dying--Oh ye Powers! Take all the Prospect of my future Joys, And turn it to Despair, since thou art gone.

_Qu_. Cease,--cease--your kind Complaints--my struggling Soul, ’.wixt Death--and Love--holds an uneasy Contest; This will not let it stay--nor that depart;-- And whilst I hear thy Voice--thus breathing Love, It hovers still--about--the grateful--Sound. My Eyes--have took--an everlasting Leave-- Of all that blest their Sight; and now a gloomy Darkness Benights the wishing Sense,--that vainly strives-- To take another View;--but ‘tis too late,-- And Life--and Love--must yield--to Death--and-- Fate. [_Dies_.

_Abd_. Farewell, my greatest Plague, [_He rises with Joy_. Thou wert a most impolitick loving thing; And having done my Bus’ness which thou wert born for, ’.was time thou shouldst retire, And leave me free to love, and reign alone.

_Enter_ Leonora, Alonzo, Ordonio, _and other Men and Women_.

Come all the World, and pay your Sorrows here, Since all the World has Interest in this Loss.

_Alon_. The Moor in Tears! nay, then the Sin was his.

_Leon_. The Queen my Mother dead! How many Sorrows will my Heart let in, E’er it will break in pieces. [_Weeps over her_.

_Alon_. I know the Source of all this Villany, And need not ask you how the Queen came murder’d.

_Elv_. My Lord, that Fryer, from the Cardinal, did it.

_Alon_. The Cardinal! ’.is possible,--for the Injuries she did him Cou’d be repaid with nothing less than Death. [Aside. My Fair, your Griefs have been so just of late, I dare not beg that you would weep no more; Though every Tear those lovely Eyes let fall, Give me a killing Wound--Remove the Body.

[_Guards remove the Body. Ex. all but_ Alon. _and_ Leon.

Such Objects suit not Souls so soft as thine.

_Leon_. With Horrors I am grown of late familiar; I saw my Father die, and liv’d the while; I saw my beauteous Friend, and thy lov’d Sister, _Florella_, whilst her Breast was bleeding fresh; Nay, and my Brother’s too, all full of Wounds, The best and kindest Brother that ever Maid was blest with; Poor _Philip_ bound, and led like Victims for a Sacrifice; All this I saw and liv’d-- And canst thou hope for Pity from that Heart, Whose harden’d Sense is Proof ‘gainst all these Miseries? This Moor, _Alonzo_, is a subtle Villain, Yet of such Power we scarce dare think him such.

_Alon_. ‘Tis true, my charming Fair, he is that Villain, As ill and powerful too; yet he has a Heart That may be reach’d with this--but ‘tis not time, [_Points to his Sword_. We must dissemble yet, which is an Art Too foul for Souls so innocent as thine. _Enter_ Abdelazer. The Moor! Hell! will he not allow us sorrowing time?

_Abd_. Madam, I come to pay my humblest Duty, And know what Service you command your Slave.

_Leon_. Alas, I’ve no Commands; or if I had, I am too wretched now to be obey’d.

_Abd_. Can one so fair, and great, ask any thing Of Men, or Heaven, they wou’d not grant with Joy?

_Leon_. Hea’vns Will I’m not permitted to dispute, And may implore in vain; but ‘tis in you To grant me what may yet preserve my Life.

_Abd_. In me! in me! the humblest of your Creatures! By yon bright Sun, or your more splendid Eyes, I wou’d divest my self of every Hope, To gratify one single Wish of yours. --Name but the way.

_Leon_. I am so unhappy, that the only thing I have to ask, is what you must deny; --The Liberty of _Philip_--

_Abd_. How! _Philip’s_ Liberty--and must I grant it? I (in whose Hands Fortune had put the Crown) Had I not lov’d the Good and Peace of _Spain_, Might have dispos’d it to my own Advantage; And shall that Peace, Which I’ve preferr’d above my proper Glories, Be lost again in him, in him a Bastard?

_Alon_. That he’s a Bastard, is not, Sir, believ’d; And she that cou’d love you, might after that Do any other Sin, and ‘twas the least Of all the Number to declare him Bastard.

_Abd_. How, Sir! that you’d love me! what is there here, Or in my Soul, or Person, may not be belov’d?

_Alon_. I spoke without Reflection on your Person, But of dishonest Love, which was too plain, From whence came all the Ills we have endur’d; And now being warm in Mischiefs, Thou dost pursue the Game, till all be thine.

_Abd_. Mine!

_Alon_. Yes, thine-- The little humble Mask which you put on Upon the Face of Falshood, and Ambition, Is easily seen thro; you gave a Crown, But you’ll command the Kingly Power still, Arm and disband, destroy or save at Pleasure.

_Abd_. Vain Boy, (whose highest Fame, Is that thou art the great _Alvaro’s_ Son) Where learnt you so much daring, to upbraid My generous Power thus falsly--do you know me?

_Alon_. Yes, Prince, and ‘tis that Knowledge makes me dare; I know thy Fame in Arms; I know in Battels Thou hast perform’d Deeds much above thy Years: My Infant Courage too (By the same Master taught) grew up to thine, When thou in Rage out-didst me, not in Bravery. --I know thou’st greater Power too--thank thy Treachery!

_Abd_. Dost thou not fear that Power?

_Alon_. By Heaven, not I, Whilst I can this--command. [_Lays his Hand on his Sword_.

_Abd_. I too command a Sword. [Abd. _lays his Hand on his, and comes close up to him_. But not to draw on thee, _Alonzo_; Since I can prove thy Accusation false By ways more grateful--take this Ring, _Alonzo_; The sight of it will break down Prison-Gates, And set all free, as was the first-born Man.

_Alon_. What means this turn?

_Abd_. To enlarge _Philip_; but on such Conditions, As you think fit to make for my Security: And as thou’rt brave, deal with me as I merit.

_Alon_. Art thou in earnest?

_Abd_. I am, by all that’s sacred.

_Leon_. Oh, let me fall before you, and ne’er rise, Till I have made you know what Gratitude Is fit for such a Bounty!-- Haste, my _Alonzo_--haste--and treat with _Philip_; Nor do I wish his Freedom, but on such Terms As may be advantageous to the Moor.

_Alon_. Nor I, by Heaven! I know the Prince’s Soul, Though it be fierce, has Gratitude and Honour; And for a Deed like this, will make returns, Such as are worthy of the brave Obliger. [_Exit_ Alon.

_Abd_. Yes, if he be not gone to Heaven before you come. [_Aside_. --What will become of _Abdelazer_ now, Who with his Power has thrown away his Liberty?

_Leon_. Your Liberty! Oh, Heaven forbid that you, Who can so generously give Liberty, Should be depriv’d of it! It must not be whilst _Leonora_ lives.

_Abd_. ‘Tis she that takes it from me.

_Leon_. I! Alas, I wou’d not for the World Give you one minute’s Pain.

_Abd_. You cannot help it, ‘tis against your Will; Your Eyes insensibly do wound and kill.

_Leon_. What can you mean? and yet I fear to know.

_Abd_. Most charming of your Sex! had Nature made This clouded Face, like to my Heart, all Love, It might have spar’d that Language which you dread; Whose rough harsh sound, unfit for tender Ears, Will ill express the Business of my Life.

_Leon_. Forbear it, if that Business, Sir, be Love.

_Abd_. Gods! Because I want the art to tell my Story In that soft way, which those can do whose Business Is to be still so idly employ’d, I must be silent and endure my Pain, Which Heaven ne’er gave me so much lameness for. Love in my Soul is not that gentle thing It is in other Breasts; instead of Calms, It ruffles mine into uneasy Storms. --I wou’d not love, if I cou’d help it, Madam; But since ‘tis not to be resisted here-- You must permit it to approach your Ear.

_Leon_. Not when I cannot hear it, Sir, with Honour.

_Abd_. With Honour! Nay, I can talk in the Defence of that: By all that’s sacred, ‘tis a Flame as virtuous, As every Thought inhabits your fair Soul, And it shall learn to be as gentle too; --For I must merit you--

_Leon_. I will not hear this Language; merit me!

_Abd_. Yes--why not? You’re but the Daughter of the King of _Spain_, And I am Heir to great Abdela, Madam; I can command this Kingdom you possess, (Of which my Passion only made you Queen) And re-assume that which your Father took From mine--a Crown as bright as that of _Spain_.

_Leon_. You said you wou’d be gentle--

_Abd_. I will; this sullen Heart shall learn to bow, And keep it self within the Bounds of Love; Its Language I’ll deliver out in Sighs, Soft as the Whispers of a yielding Virgin. I cou’d transform my Soul to any Shape; Nay, I could even teach my Eyes the Art To change their natural Fierceness into Smiles; --What is’t I wou’d not do to gain that Heart!

_Leon_. Which never can be yours! that and my Vows, Are to _Alonzo_ given; which he lays claim to By the most sacred Ties, Love and Obedience; All _Spain_ esteems him worthy of that Love.

_Abd_. More worthy it than I! it was a Woman, A nice, vain, peevish Creature that pronounc’d it; Had it been Man, ‘t had been his last Transgression. --His Birth! his glorious Actions! are they like mine?

_Leon_. Perhaps his Birth wants those Advantages, Which Nature has laid out in Beauty on his Person.

_Abd_. Ay! there’s your Cause of Hate! Curst be my Birth, And curst be Nature that has dy’d my Skin With this ungrateful Colour! cou’d not the Gods Have given me equal Beauty with _Alonzo_! --Yet as I am, I’ve been in vain ador’d, And Beauties great as thine have languish’d for me. The Lights put out, thou in thy naked Arms Will find me soft and smooth as polish’d Ebony; And all my Kisses on thy balmy Lips as sweet, As are the Breezes, breath’d amidst the Groves Of ripening Spices in the height of Day: As vigorous too, As if each Night were the first happy Moment I laid thy panting Body to my Bosom. Oh, that transporting Thought-- See--I can bend as low, and sigh as often, [Kneels. And sue for Blessings only you can grant; As any fair and soft _Alonzo_ can-- If you could pity me as well-- But you are deaf, and in your Eyes I read [_Rises with Anger_. A Scorn which animates my Love and Anger; Nor know I which I should dismiss or cherish.

_Leon_. The last is much more welcome than the first; Your Anger can but kill; but, Sir, your Love-- Will make me ever wretched, since ‘tis impossible I ever can return it.

_Abd_. Why, kill me then! you must do one or t’other. [_Kneels_. For thus--I cannot live--why dost thou weep? Thy every Tear’s enough to drown my Soul! How tame Love renders every feeble Sense! [_Rises_. --Gods! I shall turn Woman, and my Eyes inform me The Transformation’s near--Death! I’ll not endure it, I’ll fly before sh’as quite undone my Soul-- [_Offers to go_. But ‘tis not in my Power--she holds it fast-- And I can now command no single part-- [Returns. Tell me, bright Maid, if I were amiable, And you were uningag’d, could you then love me?

_Leon_. No! I could die first.

_Abd_. Hah!--awake, my Soul, from out this drousy Fit, And with thy wonted Bravery scorn thy Fetters. By Heaven, ‘tis gone! and I am now my self. Be gone, my dull Submission! my lazy Flame Grows sensible, and knows for what ‘twas kindled. Coy Mistress, you must yield, and quickly too: Were you devout as Vestals, pure as their Fire, Yet I wou’d wanton in the rifled Spoils Of all that sacred Innocence and Beauty. --Oh, my Desire’s grown high! Raging as midnight Flames let loose in Cities, And, like that too, will ruin where it lights. Come, this Apartment was design’d for Pleasure, And made thus silent, and thus gay for me; There I’ll convince that Error, that vainly made thee think I was not meant for Love.

_Leon_. Am I betray’d? are all my Women gone? And have I nought but Heaven for my Defence?

_Abd_. None else, and that’s too distant to befriend you.

_Leon_. Oh, take my Life, and spare my dearer Honour!
--Help, help, ye Powers that favour Innocence.
[_Enter Women_.
_Just as the Moor is going to force in_ Leonora,
_enters to him_ Osmin _in haste_.

_Osm_. My Lord, _Alonzo_--

_Abd_. What of him, you Slave--is he not secur’d? Speak, dull Intruder, that know’st not times and seasons, Or get thee hence.

_Osm_. Not till I’ve done the Business which I came for.

_Abd_. Slave!--that thou cam’st for.
[_Stabs him in the Arm_.

_Osm_. No, ‘twas to tell you, that _Alonzo_, Finding himself betray’d, made brave resistance; Some of your Slaves h’as killed, and some h’as wounded.

_Abd_. ‘Tis time he were secured; I must assist my Guards, or all is lost. [_Exit_.

_Leon_. Sure, _Osmin_, from the Gods thou cam’st, To hinder my undoing; and if thou dy’st, Heaven will almost forgive thy other Sins For this one pious Deed.-- But yet I hope thy Wound’s not mortal.

_Osm_. ‘Tis only in my Arm--and, Madam, for this pity, I’ll live to do you Service.

_Leon_. What Service can the Favourite of the Moor, Train’d up in Blood and Mischiefs, render me?

_Osm_. Why, Madam, I command the Guard of Moors, Who will all die, when e’er I give the Word. Madam, ‘twas I caus’d _Philip_ and the Cardinal To fly to th’ Camp, And gave ‘em warning of approaching Death.

_Leon_. Heaven bless thee for thy Goodness.

_Osm_. I am weary now of being a Tyrant’s Slave, And bearing Blows too; the rest I could have suffer’d. Madam, I’ll free the Prince. But see, the Moor returns.

_Leon_. That Monster’s Presence I must fly, as from a killing Plague.

[_Ex. with her Women_.
_Enter_ Abdelazer _with_ Zarrack, _and a Train of Moors_.

_Abd_. It is prodigious, that a single Man Should with such Bravery defend his Life Amongst so many Swords;--but he is safe. _Osmin_, I am not us’d to sue for Pardon, And when I do, you ought to grant it me.

_Osm_. I did not merit, Sir, so harsh a Usage.

_Abd_. No more; I’m asham’d to be upbraided, And will repair the Injury I did thee.

_Osm_. Acknowledgment from you is pay sufficient.

_Abd_. Yet, _Osmin_, I shou’d chide your Negligence, Since by it _Philip_ lives still, and the Cardinal.

_Osm_. I had design’d it, Sir, this Evening’s Sacrifice.

_Abd_. _Zarrack_ shall now perform it--and instantly: _Alonzo_ too must bear ‘em company.

_Zar_. I’ll shew my Duty in my haste, my Lord.
[_Ex_. Zar.

_Osm_. Death! I’m undone; I’ll after him, and kill him.
[_Offers to go_.

_Abd. Osmin_, I’ve business with you.--

[Osm. _comes back bowing.
As they are going off, enter_ Leonora, Ordonio, _other
Lords, and Women_.

_Leon_. Oh Prince! for Pity hear and grant my Suit.
[_Kneels_.

_Abd_. When so much Beauty’s prostrate at my Feet, What is’t I can deny?--rise, thou brightest Virgin That ever Nature made; Rise, and command my Life, my Soul, my Honour.

_Leon_. No, let me hang for ever on your Knees, Unless you’ll grant _Alonzo_ Liberty.

_Abd_. Rise, I will grant it; though _Alonzo_, Madam, Betray’d that Trust I had repos’d in him.

_Leon_. I know there’s some Mistake; let me negotiate Between my Brother and the Gallant Moor. I cannot force your Guards, There is no Danger in a Woman’s Arm.

_Abd_. In your bright Eyes there is, that may corrupt ‘em more Than all the Treasures of the Eastern Kings. Yet, Madam, here I do resign my Power; Act as you please, dismiss _Alonzo’s_ Chains. And since you are so generous, to despise This Crown, which I have given you, _Philip_ shall owe his Greatness to your Bounty, And whilst he makes me safe, shall rule in Spain. --_Osmin_-- [_Whispers_.

_Ord_. And will you trust him, Madam?

_Leon_. If he deceive me, ‘tis more happy far To die with them, than live where he inhabits.

_Osm_. It shall be done.

_Abd_. Go, _Osmin_, wait upon the Queen; And when she is confin’d, I’ll visit her, Where if she yield, she reigns; if not, she dies. [_Aside_.

[_Ex_. Abd. _one way_, Leon. Osm. _and the rest another_.

SCENE III. _A Prison_.

_Discovers_ Philip _chain’d to a Post, and over against him
the_ Cardinal _and_ Alonzo _in Chains_.

_Phil_. Oh, all ye cruel Powers! is’t not enough I am depriv’d of Empire, and of Honour? Have my bright Name stol’n from me, with my Crown! Divested of all Power! all Liberty! And here am chain’d like the sad Andromede, To wait Destruction from the dreadful Monster! Is not all this enough, without being damn’d, To have thee, Cardinal, in my full view? If I cou’d reach my Eyes, I’d be reveng’d On the officious and accursed Lights, For guiding so much torment to my Soul.

_Card_. My much wrong’d Prince! you need not wish to kill By ways more certain, than by upbraiding me With my too credulous, shameful past misdeeds.

_Phil_. If that wou’d kill, I’d weary out my Tongue With an eternal repetition of thy Treachery;-- Nay, and it shou’d forget all other Language, But Traitor! Cardinal! which I wou’d repeat, Till I had made my self as raging mad, As the wild Sea, when all the Winds are up; And in that Storm, I might forget my Grief.

_Card_. Wou’d I cou’d take the killing Object from your Eyes.

_Phil_. Oh _Alonzo_, to add to my Distraction, Must I find thee a sharer in my Fate?

_Alon_. It is my Duty, Sir, to die with you.-- But, Sir, my Princess Has here--a more than equal claim to Grief; And Fear for her dear Safety will deprive me Of this poor Life, that shou’d have been your Sacrifice.

_Enter_ Zarrack _with a Dagger; gazes on_ Philip.

_Phil_. Kind Murderer, welcome! quickly free my Soul, And I will kiss the sooty Hand that wounds me.

_Zar_. Oh, I see you can be humble.

_Phil_. Humble! I’ll be as gentle as a Love-sick Youth, When his dear Conqu’ress sighs a Hope into him, If thou wilt kill me!--Pity me and kill me.

_Zar_. I hope to see your own Hand do that Office.

_Phil_. Oh, thou wert brave indeed, If thou wou’dst lend me but the use of one.

_Zar_. You’ll want a Dagger then.

_Phil_. By Heaven, no, I’d run it down my Throat, Or strike my pointed Fingers through my Breast.

_Zar_. Ha, ha, ha, what pity ‘tis you want a Hand.

_Enter_ Osmin.

_Phil. Osmin_, sure thou wilt be so kind to kill me! Thou hadst a Soul was humane.

_Osm_. Indeed I will not, Sir, you are my King.
[_Unbinds him_.

_Phil_. What mean’st thou?

_Osm_. To set you free, my Prince.

_Phil_. Thou art some Angel sure, in that dark Cloud.

_Zar_. What mean’st thou, Traitor?

_Osm_. Wait till your Eyes inform you.

_Card_. Good Gods! what mean’st thou?

_Osm_. Sir, arm your Hand with this.
[_Gives_ Phil. _a Sword, goes to undo_ Alonzo.

_Zar_. Thou art half-damn’d for this! I’ll to my Prince--

_Phil_. I’ll stop you on your way--lie there--your Tongue [_Kills him_. Shall tell no Tales to day--Now, Cardinal--but hold, I scorn to strike thee whilst thou art unarm’d, Yet so thou didst to me; For which I have not leisure now to kill thee. --Here, take thy Liberty;--nay, do not thank me; By Heaven, I do not mean it as a Grace.

_Osm_. My Lord, take this-- [_To_ Alon. _and the_ Card. And this--to arm your Highness.

_Alon_. Thou dost amaze me!

_Osm_. Keep in your Wonder with your Doubts, my Lord.

_Phil_. We cannot doubt, whilst we’re thus fortify’d-- [_Looks on his Sword_. Come, _Osmin_, let us fall upon the Guards.

_Osm_. There are no Guards, great Sir, but what are yours; And see--your Friends I’ve brought to serve ye too.

[_Opens a back Door.
_Enter_ Leonora _and Women_, Ordonio, Sebastian,
Antonio, _etc_.

_Phil_. My dearest Sister safe!

_Leon_. Whilst in your Presence, Sir, and you thus arm’d.

_Osm_. The Moor approaches,--now be ready all.

_Phil_. That Name I never heard with Joy till now; Let him come on, and arm’d with all his Powers, Thus singly I defy him. [_Draws_.

_Enter_ Abdelazer.
[Osmin _secures the Doors_.

_Abd_. Hah! betray’d! and by my Slaves! by _Osmin_ too!

_Phil_. Now, thou damn’d Villain! true-born Soul of Hell! Not one of thy infernal Kin shall save thee.

_Abd_. Base Coward Prince! Whom the admiring World mistakes for Brave; When all thy boasted Valour, fierce and hot As was thy Mother in her height of Lust, Can with the aid of all these--treacherous Swords, Take but a single Life; but such a Life, As amongst all their Store the envying Gods Have not another such to breathe in Man.

_Phil_. Vaunt on, thou monstrous Instrument of Hell! For I’m so pleas’d to have thee in my Power, That I can hear thee number up thy Sins, And yet be calm, whilst thou art near Damnation.

_Abd_. Thou ly’st, thou canst not keep thy Temper in; For hadst thou so much Bravery of Mind, Thou’dst fight me singly; which thou dar’st not do.

_Phil_. Not dare! By Heaven, if thou wert twenty Villains more, And I had all thy Weight of Sins about me, I durst thus venture on;--forbear, _Alonzo_.

_Alon_. I will not, Sir.

_Phil_. I was indeed too rash; ‘tis such a Villain, As shou’d receive his Death from nought but Slaves.

_Abd_. Thou’st Reason, Prince! nor can they wound my Body More than I’ve done thy Fame; for my first step To my Revenge, I whor’d the Queen thy Mother.

_Phil_. Death! though this I knew before, yet the hard Word Runs harshly thro my Heart;-- If thou hadst murder’d fifty Royal _Ferdinands_, And with inglorious Chains as many Years Had loaded all my Limbs, ‘t had been more pardonable Than this eternal Stain upon my Name: --Oh, thou hast breath’d thy worst of Venom now.

_Abd_. My next advance was poisoning of thy Father.

_Phil_. My Father poison’d! and by thee, thou Dog! Oh, that thou hadst a thousand Lives to lose, Or that the World depended on thy single one, That I might make a Victim Worthy to offer up to his wrong’d Ghost.-- But stay, there’s something of thy Count of Sins untold, That I must know; not that I doubt, by Heaven, That I am _Philip’s_ Son--

_Abd_. Not for thy Ease, but to declare my Malice, Know, Prince, I made thy amorous Mother Proclaim thee Bastard, when I miss’d of killing rhee.

_Phil_. Gods! let me contain my Rage!

_Abd_. I made her too betray the credulous Cardinal, And having then no farther use of her, Satiated with her Lust, I set _Roderigo_ on to murder her. Thy Death had next succeeded; and thy Crown I wou’d have laid at _Leonora’s_ Feet.

_Alon_. How! durst you love the Princess?

_Abd_. Fool, durst! had I been born a Slave, I durst with this same Soul do any thing: Yes, and the last Sense that will remain about me, Will be my Passion for that charming Maid, Whom I’d enjoy’d e’er now, but for thy Treachery. [_To_ Osmin.

_Phil_. Deflour’d my Sister! Heaven punish me eternally, If thou out-liv’st the Minute thou’st declar’d it.

_Abd_. I will, in spite of all that thou canst do. --Stand off, fool-hardy Youth, if thou’dst be safe, And do not draw thy certain Ruin on, Or think that e’er this Hand was arm’d in vain.

_Phil_. Poor angry Slave, how I contemn thee now!

_Abd_. As humble Huntsmen do the generous Lion; Now thou darst see me lash my Sides, and roar, And bite my Snare in vain; who with one Look (Had I been free) hadst shrunk into the Earth, For shelter from my Rage: And like that noble Beast, though thus betray’d, I’ve yet an awful Fierceness in my Looks, Which makes thee fear t’approach; and ‘tis at distance That thou dar’st kill me; for come but in my reach, And with one Grasp I wou’d confound thy Hopes.

_Phil_. I’ll let thee see how vain thy Boastings are, And unassisted, by one single Rage, Thus--make an easy Passage to thy Heart.

[_Runs on him, all the rest do the like in the same Minute_.
Abd. _aims at the_ Prince, _and kills_ Osmin, _and falls
dead himself_.

--Die with thy Sins unpardon’d, and forgotten--

[_Shout within_.

_Alon_. Great Sir, your Throne and Kingdom want you now; Your People rude with Joy, do fill each Street, And long to see their King--whom Heaven preserve.

_All_. Long live _Philip_, King of _Spain_--

_Phil_. I thank ye all;--and now, my dear _Alonzo_, Receive the Recompence of all thy Sufferings, Whilst I create thee Duke of _Salamancha_.

_Alon_. Thus low I take the Bounty from your Hands.
[_Kneels_.

_Leon_. Rise, Sir, my Brother now has made us equal.

_Card_. And shall this joyful Day, that has restor’d you To all the Glories of your Birth and Merits, That has restor’d all _Spain_ the greatest Treasure That ever happy Monarchy possess’d, Leave only me unhappy, when, Sir, my Crime Was only too much Faith?--Thus low I fall, [_Kneels_. And from that Store of Mercy Heaven has given you, Implore you wou’d dispense a little here.

_Phil_. Rise, (though with much ado) I will forgive you.

_Leon_. Come, my dear Brother, to that glorious business, Our Birth and Fortunes call us, let us haste, For here methinks we are in danger still.

_Phil_. So after Storms, the joyful Mariner Beholds the distant wish’d-for Shore afar, And longs to bring the rich-fraight Vessel in, Fearing to trust the faithless Seas again.