[_Embraces him_.
--Shall _Abdelazer_ fall?
_Card_. Yes, upon thee-- Like the tall Ruins of a falling Tower, To crush thee into Dust-- [_As they embrace, the Guards seize him and the rest_.
Traitor and Bastard, I arrest thee of High-Treason.
_Phil_. Hah!--Traitor!--and Bastard--and from thee!
[_They hold_ Philip's _Hands_.
_Card_. Guards, to your Hands the Prisoner is committed.
There's your Warrant--_Alonzo_, you are free.
[_Ex_. Card.
_Phil_. Prithee lend me one Hand--to wipe my Eyes, And see who 'tis dares authorize this Warrant: --The Devil and his Dam!--the Moor and Queen!
Their Warrant!--Gods! _Alonzo_, must we obey it?
Villains, you cannot be my Jailors; there's no Prison, No Dungeon deep enough; no Gate so strong, To keep a Man confin'd--so mad with Wrong.
--Oh, dost thou weep, _Alonzo_?
_Alon_. I wou'd fain shed a Tear, But from my Tears so many Show'rs are gone, They are too poor to pay your Sorrow's Tribute; There is no Remedy, we must to Prison.
_Phil_. Yes, and from thence to Death-- I thought I should have had a Tomb hung round With tatter'd Ensigns, broken Spears and Javelins; And that my Body, with a thousand Wounds, Shou'd have been borne on some triumphant Chariot, With solemn Mourning, Drums, and Trumpets sounding; Whilst all the wondring World with Grief and Envy, Had wish'd my glorious Destiny their own: But now, _Alonzo_--like a Beast I fall, And hardly Pity waits my Funeral.
[_Exeunt_.
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!