Phil. Oh, all ye cruel Powers! is’t not enough I am depriv’d of Empire, and of Honour? Have my bright Name stol’n from me, with my Crown! Divested of all Power! all Liberty! And here am chain’d like the sad Andromede, To wait Destruction from the dreadful Monster! Is not all this enough, without being damn’d, To have thee, Cardinal, in my full view? If I cou’d reach my Eyes, I’d be reveng’d On the officious and accursed Lights, For guiding so much torment to my Soul.

Card. My much wrong’d Prince! you need not wish to kill By ways more certain, than by upbraiding me With my too credulous, shameful past misdeeds.

Phil. If that wou’d kill, I’d weary out my Tongue With an eternal repetition of thy Treachery;— Nay, and it shou’d forget all other Language, But Traitor! Cardinal! which I wou’d repeat, Till I had made my self as raging mad, As the wild Sea, when all the Winds are up; And in that Storm, I might forget my Grief.

Card. Wou’d I cou’d take the killing Object from your Eyes.

Phil. Oh Alonzo, to add to my Distraction, Must I find thee a sharer in my Fate?

Alon. It is my Duty, Sir, to die with you.— But, Sir, my Princess Has here—a more than equal claim to Grief; And Fear for her dear Safety will deprive me Of this poor Life, that shou’d have been your Sacrifice.

Enter Zarrack with a Dagger; gazes on Philip.

Phil. Kind Murderer, welcome! quickly free my Soul, And I will kiss the sooty Hand that wounds me.

Zar. Oh, I see you can be humble.

Phil. Humble! I’ll be as gentle as a Love-sick Youth, When his dear Conqu’ress sighs a Hope into him, If thou wilt kill me!—Pity me and kill me.

Zar. I hope to see your own Hand do that Office.

Phil. Oh, thou wert brave indeed, If thou wou’dst lend me but the use of one.

Zar. You’ll want a Dagger then.

Phil. By Heaven, no, I’d run it down my Throat, Or strike my pointed Fingers through my Breast.

Zar. Ha, ha, ha, what pity ‘tis you want a Hand.

Enter Osmin.

Phil. Osmin, sure thou wilt be so kind to kill me! Thou hadst a Soul was humane.

Osm. Indeed I will not, Sir, you are my King. [Unbinds him.

Phil. What mean’st thou?

Osm. To set you free, my Prince.

Phil. Thou art some Angel sure, in that dark Cloud.

Zar. What mean’st thou, Traitor?

Osm. Wait till your Eyes inform you.

Card. Good Gods! what mean’st thou?

Osm. Sir, arm your Hand with this. [Gives Phil. a Sword, goes to undo Alonzo.

Zar. Thou art half-damn’d for this! I’ll to my Prince—

Phil. I’ll stop you on your way—lie there—your Tongue [Kills him. Shall tell no Tales to day—Now, Cardinal—but hold, I scorn to strike thee whilst thou art unarm’d, Yet so thou didst to me; For which I have not leisure now to kill thee. —Here, take thy Liberty;—nay, do not thank me; By Heaven, I do not mean it as a Grace.

Osm. My Lord, take this— [To Alon. and the Card. And this—to arm your Highness.

Alon. Thou dost amaze me!

Osm. Keep in your Wonder with your Doubts, my Lord.

Phil. We cannot doubt, whilst we’re thus fortify’d— [Looks on his Sword. Come, Osmin, let us fall upon the Guards.

Osm. There are no Guards, great Sir, but what are yours; And see—your Friends I’ve brought to serve ye too.

[_Opens a back Door. Enter Leonora and Women, Ordonio, Sebastian, Antonio, etc.

Phil. My dearest Sister safe!

Leon. Whilst in your Presence, Sir, and you thus arm’d.

Osm. The Moor approaches,—now be ready all.

Phil. That Name I never heard with Joy till now; Let him come on, and arm’d with all his Powers, Thus singly I defy him. [Draws.

Enter Abdelazer. [Osmin secures the Doors.

Abd. Hah! betray’d! and by my Slaves! by Osmin too!

Phil. Now, thou damn’d Villain! true-born Soul of Hell! Not one of thy infernal Kin shall save thee.

Abd. Base Coward Prince! Whom the admiring World mistakes for Brave; When all thy boasted Valour, fierce and hot As was thy Mother in her height of Lust, Can with the aid of all these—treacherous Swords, Take but a single Life; but such a Life, As amongst all their Store the envying Gods Have not another such to breathe in Man.

Phil. Vaunt on, thou monstrous Instrument of Hell! For I’m so pleas’d to have thee in my Power, That I can hear thee number up thy Sins, And yet be calm, whilst thou art near Damnation.

Abd. Thou ly’st, thou canst not keep thy Temper in; For hadst thou so much Bravery of Mind, Thou’dst fight me singly; which thou dar’st not do.

Phil. Not dare! By Heaven, if thou wert twenty Villains more, And I had all thy Weight of Sins about me, I durst thus venture on;—forbear, Alonzo.

Alon. I will not, Sir.

Phil. I was indeed too rash; ‘tis such a Villain, As shou’d receive his Death from nought but Slaves.

Abd. Thou’st Reason, Prince! nor can they wound my Body More than I’ve done thy Fame; for my first step To my Revenge, I whor’d the Queen thy Mother.

Phil. Death! though this I knew before, yet the hard Word Runs harshly thro my Heart;— If thou hadst murder’d fifty Royal Ferdinands, And with inglorious Chains as many Years Had loaded all my Limbs, ‘t had been more pardonable Than this eternal Stain upon my Name: —Oh, thou hast breath’d thy worst of Venom now.

Abd. My next advance was poisoning of thy Father.

Phil. My Father poison’d! and by thee, thou Dog! Oh, that thou hadst a thousand Lives to lose, Or that the World depended on thy single one, That I might make a Victim Worthy to offer up to his wrong’d Ghost.— But stay, there’s something of thy Count of Sins untold, That I must know; not that I doubt, by Heaven, That I am Philip’s Son—

Abd. Not for thy Ease, but to declare my Malice, Know, Prince, I made thy amorous Mother Proclaim thee Bastard, when I miss’d of killing rhee.

Phil. Gods! let me contain my Rage!

Abd. I made her too betray the credulous Cardinal, And having then no farther use of her, Satiated with her Lust, I set Roderigo on to murder her. Thy Death had next succeeded; and thy Crown I wou’d have laid at Leonora’s Feet.

Alon. How! durst you love the Princess?

Abd. Fool, durst! had I been born a Slave, I durst with this same Soul do any thing: Yes, and the last Sense that will remain about me, Will be my Passion for that charming Maid, Whom I’d enjoy’d e’er now, but for thy Treachery. [To Osmin.

Phil. Deflour’d my Sister! Heaven punish me eternally, If thou out-liv’st the Minute thou’st declar’d it.

Abd. I will, in spite of all that thou canst do. —Stand off, fool-hardy Youth, if thou’dst be safe, And do not draw thy certain Ruin on, Or think that e’er this Hand was arm’d in vain.

Phil. Poor angry Slave, how I contemn thee now!

Abd. As humble Huntsmen do the generous Lion; Now thou darst see me lash my Sides, and roar, And bite my Snare in vain; who with one Look (Had I been free) hadst shrunk into the Earth, For shelter from my Rage: And like that noble Beast, though thus betray’d, I’ve yet an awful Fierceness in my Looks, Which makes thee fear t’approach; and ‘tis at distance That thou dar’st kill me; for come but in my reach, And with one Grasp I wou’d confound thy Hopes.

Phil. I’ll let thee see how vain thy Boastings are, And unassisted, by one single Rage, Thus—make an easy Passage to thy Heart.

[Runs on him, all the rest do the like in the same Minute. Abd. aims at the Prince, and kills Osmin, and falls dead himself.

—Die with thy Sins unpardon’d, and forgotten—

[Shout within.

Alon. Great Sir, your Throne and Kingdom want you now; Your People rude with Joy, do fill each Street, And long to see their King—whom Heaven preserve.

All. Long live Philip, King of Spain—

Phil. I thank ye all;—and now, my dear Alonzo, Receive the Recompence of all thy Sufferings, Whilst I create thee Duke of Salamancha.

Alon. Thus low I take the Bounty from your Hands. [Kneels.

Leon. Rise, Sir, my Brother now has made us equal.

Card. And shall this joyful Day, that has restor’d you To all the Glories of your Birth and Merits, That has restor’d all Spain the greatest Treasure That ever happy Monarchy possess’d, Leave only me unhappy, when, Sir, my Crime Was only too much Faith?—Thus low I fall, [Kneels. And from that Store of Mercy Heaven has given you, Implore you wou’d dispense a little here.

Phil. Rise, (though with much ado) I will forgive you.

Leon. Come, my dear Brother, to that glorious business, Our Birth and Fortunes call us, let us haste, For here methinks we are in danger still.

Phil. So after Storms, the joyful Mariner Beholds the distant wish’d-for Shore afar, And longs to bring the rich-fraight Vessel in, Fearing to trust the faithless Seas again.

EPILOGUE.

Spoken by little Mrs. Ariell.

With late Success being blest, I’m come agen; You see what Kindness can do, Gentlemen, Which when once shewn, our Sex cannot refrain. Yet spite of such a Censure I’ll proceed, And for our Poetess will intercede: Before, a Poet’s wheedling Words prevail’d, Whose melting Speech my tender Heart assail’d, And I the flatt’ring Scribler’s Cause maintain’d; So by my means the Fop Applauses gain’d. ’.was wisely done to chuse m’ his Advocate, Since I have prov’d to be his better Fate; For what I lik’d, I thought you could not hate. Respect for you, Gallants, made me comply, Though I confess he did my Passion try, And I am too good-natur’d to deny. But now not Pity, but my Sex’s Cause, Whose Beauty does, like Monarchs, give you Laws, Should now command, being join’d with Wit, Applause. Yet since our Beauty’s Power’s not absolute, She’ll not the Privilege of your Sex dispute, But does by me submit.—Yet since you’ve been For my sake kind, repeat it once agen. Your Kindness, Gallants, I shall soon repay, If you’ll but favour my Design to Day: Your last Applauses, like refreshing Showers, Made me spring up and bud like early Flow’rs; Since then I’m grown at least an Inch in height, And shall e’er long be full-blown for Delight.

Written by a Friend.