Volume Ii Part 16 (1/2)

_Card_. Lye, Sir!

_Phil_. Yes, lye, Sir,--therefore come on, Follow the desperate Reer-Guard, which is mine, And where I'll die, or conquer--follow my Sword The b.l.o.o.d.y way it leads, or else, by Heaven, I'll give the Moor the Victory in spite, And turn my Force on thee-- Plague of your Cowardice--Come, follow me.

[_Ex_. Card.

SCENE V. _The Grove_.

_As_ Philip _is going off, he is overtook by_ Alonzo, Antonio, Sebastian, _and other Officers: At the other side some Moors, and other of_ Abdelazer's _Party, enter and fall on_ Philip _and the rest--the Moors are beaten off--one left dead on the Stage_.--

_Enter_ Abdelazer, _with_ Roderigo _and some others_.

_Abd_. Oh, for more Work--more Souls to send to h.e.l.l!

--Ha, ha, ha, here's one going thither,--Sirrah--Slave Moor--who kill'd thee?--how he grins--this Breast, Had it been temper'd and made proof like mine, It never wou'd have been a Mark for Fools.

Abd. _going out: Enter_ Philip, Alonzo, Sebastian, Antonio, _and Officers, as pa.s.sing over the Stage_.

_Phil_. I'll wear my Sword to th' Hilt, but I will find The Subject of my Vengeance.-- Moor, 'tis for thee I seek, where art thou, Slave?--

_Abd_. Here, _Philip_. [Abd. _turns_.

_Phil_. Fate and Revenge, I thank thee.--

_Abd_. Why--thou art brave, whoe'er begot thee.

_Phil_. Villain, a King begot me.

_Abd_. I know not that, But I'll be sworn thy Mother was a Queen, And I will kill thee handsomly for her sake.

[_Offers to fight, their Parties hinder them_.

_Alon_. Hold--hold, my Prince.

_Osm_. Great Sir, what mean you? [_To_ Abd.

The Victory being yours, to give your Life away On one so mad and desperate.

[_Their Parties draw_.

_Phil. Alonzo_, hold, We two will be the Fate of this great Day.

_Abd_. And I'll forego all I've already won, And claim no Conquest; the whole heaps of Bodies, Which this Right-hand has slain, declare me Victor.

_Phil_. No matter who's the Victor; I have thee in my view, And will not leave thee, Till thou hast crown'd those Heaps, and made 'em all The glorious Trophies of my Victory--Come on, Sir.

_Alon_. You shall not fight thus single; If you begin, by Heaven, we'll all fall on.

_Phil_. Dost thou suspect my Power?

Oh, I am arm'd with more than compleat 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, I am all Fire; and yet I am too cold To let out Blood enough for my Revenge: --Therefore stir not a Sword on my side.

_Abd_. Nor on mine.

_They fight; both their Parties engage on either side; the Scene draws off, and discovers both the Armies, which all fall on and make the main Battel:_ Philip _prevails, the_ Moors _give ground: Then the Scene closes to the the Grove. Enter some_ Moors _flying in disorder_.

SCENE VI. _Changes to a Tent_.