Volume Ii Part 7 (1/2)

_Qu. Philip_! instruct me how t' undo that Boy I hate; The publick Infamy I have receiv'd, I will revenge with nothing less than Death.

_Abd_. 'Tis well we can agree in our Resentments, For I have vow'd he shall not live a day; He has an Art to pry into our Secrets: To all besides our Love is either hid, Or else they dare not see--But this Prince Has a most dangerous Spirit must be calm'd.

_Qu_. I have resolv'd his Death, And now have waiting in my Cabinet, Engines to carry on this mighty Work of my Revenge.

_Abd_. Leave that to me, who equally am injur'd; You, like the G.o.ds, need only but command, And I will execute your sacred Will-- That done, there's none dare whisper what we do.

_Qu_. Nature, be gone, I chase thee from my Soul, Who Love's almighty Empire does controul: And she that will to thy dull Laws submit, In spite of thee, betrays the Hypocrite.

No rigid Virtue shall my Soul possess, Let Gown-men preach against the Wickedness; Pleasures were made by G.o.ds, and meant for us, And not t' enjoy 'em, were ridiculous.

_Abd_. Oh perfect, great and glorious of thy s.e.x!

Like thy great self 'twas spoke, resolv'd and brave-- I must attend the King--where I will watch All _Philip's_ Motions.

_Qu_. And--after that--if you will beg Admittance, I'll give you leave to visit me to Night.

_Abd_. Madam, that Blessing now must be defer'd.

[_Leads her to the Door_.

My Wrongs and I will be retir'd to Night, And bring forth Vengeance with the Morning's Light.

_Enter_ Osmin, Zarrack.

_Osm_. My gracious Lord.

_Abd_. Come near--and take a Secret from my Lips; And he who keeps not silent hears his Death.-- This Night the Prince and Cardinal--do you mark me-- Are murder'd.

_Osm_. Where, Sir?

_Abd_. Here in the Court.

_Osm_. By whom, great Sir?

_Abd_. By thee--I know thou darst.

_Osm_. Whatever you command.

_Abd_. Good!--then see it be perform'd.

_Osmin_, how goes the Night?

_Osm_. About the hour of Eight, And you're expected at the Banquet, Sir: Prince _Philip_ storms, and swears you're with the Queen.

_Abd_. Let him storm on; the Tempest will be laid-- Where's my Wife?

_Osm_. In the Presence, Sir, with the Princess and Other Ladies.

_Abd_. She's wondrous forward!--what the King-- (I am not jealous tho)--but he makes court to her.

--Hah, _Osmin_!

He throws out Love from Eyes all languis.h.i.+ng;-- Come tell me,--he does sigh to her,--no matter if he do-- And fawns upon her Hand,--and kneels;--tell me, Slave!

_Osm_. Sir, I saw nothing like to Love; he only treats her Equal to her Quality.