Volume Ii Part 14 (1/2)

_Alon_. Oh Devil!

_Qu_. We are betray'd, and round beset with Horrors; If we deny him this--the Power being his, We're all undone, and Slaves unto his Mercy.-- Besides--Oh, give me leave to blush when I declare, That _Philip_ is--as he has rendred him.-- But I in love to you, love to my _Spain_, Chose rather to proclaim my Infamy, Than an ambitious b.a.s.t.a.r.d should be crown'd.

_Alon_. Here's a fine Plot, What Devil reigns in Woman, when she doats? [_Aside_.

_Rod_. My Lords, I see no remedy but he must be Protector.

_Alon_. Oh, Treachery--have you so soon forgot The n.o.ble _Philip_, and his glorious Heir, The murder'd _Ferdinand?_-- And, Madam, you so soon forgot a Mother's Name, That you wou'd give him Power that kill'd your Son?

_Abd_. The Modesty wherewith I'll use that Power, Shall let you see, I have no other Interest But what's intirely _Spain's_.--Restore their Swords, And he amongst you all who is dissatisfy'd, I set him free this minute.

_Alon_. I take thee at thy word-- And instantly to _Philip's_ Camp will fly.

[_Exit_.

_Abd_. By all the G.o.ds my Ancestors ador'd, But that I scorn the envying World shou'd think I took delight in Blood--I wou'd not part so with you.

--But you, my Lords, who value _Spain's_ Repose, Must for it instantly with me take Arms.

Prince _Philip_, and the Cardinal, now ride Like _Jove_ in Thunder; we in Storms must meet them.

To Arms! to Arms! and then to Victory, Resolv'd to conquer, or resolv'd to die.

[_Exeunt_.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Abdelazer's _Tent_.

_Enter_ Abdelazer, Osmin _bearing his Helmet of Feathers_, Zarrack _with his Sword and Truncheon_.

_Abd_. Come, _Osmin_, arm me quickly; for the Day Comes on apace, and the fierce Enemy Will take advantages by our delay.

_Enter_ Queen _and_ Elvira.

_Qu_. Oh, my dear Moor!

The rude, exclaiming, ill-affected Mult.i.tude (Tempestuous as the Sea) run up and down, Some crying, kill the b.a.s.t.a.r.d--some the Moor; These for King _Philip_,--those for _Abdelazer_.

_Abd_. Your Fears are idle,--blow 'em into Air.

I rush'd amongst the thickest of their Crouds, And with the awful Splendor of my Eyes, Like the imperious Sun, dispers'd the Clouds.

But I must combat now a fiercer Foe, The hot-brain'd _Philip_, and a jealous Cardinal.

_Qu_. And must you go, before I make you mine?

_Abd_. That's my Misfortune--when I return with Victory, And lay my Wreaths of Laurel at your Feet, You shall exchange them for your glorious Fetters.

_Qu_. How canst thou hope for Victory, when their Numbers So far exceed thy Powers?

_Abd_. What's wanting there, we must supply with Conduct.

I know you will not stop at any thing That may advance our Interest, and Enjoyment.