_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 bloody 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 Hell!
--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 passing 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_.
_Enter_ Abdelazer, Roderigo, Osmin, Zarrack, _and some others of his Party_.
_Rod_. Oh, fly, my Lord, fly, for the Day is lost.
_Abd_. There are three hundred and odd Days i'th Year, And cannot we lose one? dismiss thy Fears, They'll make a Coward of thee.
_Osm_. Sir, all the noble _Spaniards_ have forsook you; Your Soldiers faint, are round beset with Enemies, Nor can you shun your Fate, but by your Flight.
_Abd_. I can--and must--in spite of Fate: The Wheel of War shall turn about again, And dash the Current of his Victories.-- This is the Tent I've pitched, at distance from the Armies, To meet the Queen and Cardinal; Charm'd with the Magick of Dissimulation, I know by this h'as furl'd his Ensigns up, And is become a tame and coward Ass.
[_A Retreat is sounded_.
--Hark--hark, 'tis done: oh, my inchanting Engine!
--Dost thou not hear Retreat sounded?
_Rod_. Sure 'tis impossible.
_Abd_. She has prevail'd--a Woman's Tongue and Eyes Are Forces stronger than Artilleries.
_Enter_ Queen, Cardinal, _Women, and Soldiers_.
--We are betray'd--
_Qu_. What means this Jealousy? lay by your Weapons.
And embrace--the sight of these beget Suspicion: --_Abdelazer_, by my Birth he comes in peace; Lord Cardinal, on my Honour so comes he.
_Abd_. Let him withdraw his Troops then.
_Qu_. They're Guards for all our Safeties: Give me your Hand, Prince Cardinal--thine, _Abdelazer_-- [_She brings them together, they embrace_.
This blest Accord I do behold with Joy.
_Card. Abdelazer_, I at the Queen's Command have met you here, To know what 'tis you will propose to us.
_Abd_. Peace and eternal Friendship 'twixt us two.
How much against my Will I took up Arms, Be witness, Heav'n: nor was it in revenge to you, But to let out th' infected Blood of _Philip_, Whose sole aim Is to be King--which Spain will never suffer; Spain gave me Education, though not Birth, Which has intitled it my native Home, To which such Reverence and Esteem I bear, I will preserve it from the Tyrant's Rage.
The People who once lov'd him, now abhor him, And 'tis your Power alone that buoys him up: And when you've lifted him into a Throne, 'Tis time to shake you off.
_Card_. Whilst I behold him as my native Prince, My Honour and Religion bids me serve him; Yet not when I'm convinc'd that whilst I do so, I injure _Spain_.
_Abd_. If he were so, the Powers above forbid We should not serve, adore, and fight for him; But _Philip_ is a Bastard:--nay, 'twill surprize ye, But that 'tis Truth, the Queen will satisfy you.
_Qu_. With one bold Word he has undone my Honour.
[_Weeps_.
Too bluntly, _Abdelazer_, you repeat That which by slow Degrees you shou'd have utter'd.
_Abd_. Pardon my Roughness, Madam, I meant well.