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Have won a kingdom, you may cry forbear:
But I have lost a father and a king,
And no tongue shall control my sorrowing.
HoRTEN. Whither, good Isabella?
Is A. I will go
Where I will languish in eternal woe.
HoRTEN. Nay, gentle love!
Isa. Talk not of love to me,
The world and the world's pride henceforth I'll scorn.
HoRTEN. My love shall follow thee; if thou
To live with poor Hortenzo as his wife,
I'll never change my love, but change my life.
Enter PHILIP hastily.
Phil. I know he is not dead; I know proud death
Durst not behold such sacred majesty.
Why stand you thus distracted 2 Mother I brother
My lord Mendoza; where's my royal father?
Q. Mo. Here lies the temple of his royal soul.
FERN. Here's all that's left of Philip's majesty;-
Wash you his tomb with tears, Fernando's moan,
Hating a partner, shall be sent alone. [Erit.
Phi L. Oh, happy father! miserable son 1
Philip is gone to joy, Philip's forlorn,
He dies to live, my life with woe is torn.
Q. Mo. Sweet son 1
PHIL. Sweet mother: Oh! how I now do shame
To lay on one so foul, so fair a name:
Had you been a true mother, a true wife,
This king had not so soon been robb'd of life.
Q. Mo. What means this rage, my son 2
PHIL. Call not me your son 1
My father, whilst he liv'd, tir'd his strong arms
In bearing christian armour 'gainst the Turks,
And spent his brains in warlike stratagems,
To bring confusion on damn'd infidels:
Whilst you, that snorted here at home, betray'd
His name to everlasting infamy;
Whilst you at home, suffer'd his bed-chamber
To be a brothelry; whilst you at home,
Suffer'd his queen to be a concubine,
And wanton red-cheek’d boys to be her bawds;
Whilst she, reeking in that letcher's arms—
PHIL. Villain 'tis thee,
Thou hell-begotten fiend; at thee I stare :
Q. Mo. Philip, thou art a villain to dishonour me.
PHI L. Mother, I am no villain ; 'tis this villain
Dishonours you and me, dishonours Spain,
Dishonours all these lords; this devil is he,
ELEAz. What! oh, pardon me ! I must throw off
All chains of duty wert thou ten kings sons;
Had I as many souls as I have sins,
As this from hence, so they from this should fly,
In just revenge of this indignity.
[He draws: the lords interpose.
PHIL. Give way! or I'll make way upon your bosoms. Eleaz. Did my dear sovereign live, sirrah, that tongue— Q. Mo. Did but King Philip live, traitor, I'd tell PHIL. A tale that should rid both your souls to hell. Tell Philip's ghost, that Philip tells his queen, That Philip's queen is a Moor's concubine; Did the king live, I'd tell him how you two Ripp'd up the entrails of his treasury, With masks and antic revellings. Eleaz. Words insupportable dost hear me, boy 7 Q. Mo. Stand you all still, and see me thus trod down? PHIL. Stand you all still, yet let this devil stand here? MEND. Forbear, sweet prince: Eleazar, I am now Protector to Fernando, King of Spain ; By that authority, and by consent Of all these peers, I utterly deprive thee Of all those royalties thou holdst in Spain. Q. Mo. Cardinal, who lends thee this commission ? Eleaz. Cardinal, I'll shorten thee by the head for this.
Phil. Forward, my lord Mendoza' damn the fiend! ELEAz. Princes of Spain, consent you to this pride? ALL. We do. Q. Mo. For what cause? Let his faith be tried. MEND. His treasons need no trial, they're too plain. Come not within the court, for if you do To beg with Indian slaves I'll banish you. [Ereunt all but Alcero, Queen, and Eleazar. Alv. Why should my son be banished? Enter MARIA. Q. Mo. Of that, dispute not now. Alvero, I'll to the king my son ; it shall be tried, If Castile's king can cool a cardinal's pride. [Ereunt Queen and Alvero. ELEAz. If I digest this gall—oh my Maria, I am whipp'd, and rack'd, and torn upon the wheel Of giddy fortune; she, and her minions, Have got me down, and treading on my bosom, They cry, lie still: the cardinal, (Oh, rare!) would bandy me away from Spain, And banish me to beg; aye, beg with slaves | MARIA. Conquer with patience these indignities. Eleaz. Patience! ha, ha! yes, yes, an honest cardinal | MARIA. Yet smother the grief, and seek revenge. ELEaz. Hah! banish me! s'foot, why say they do, There's Portugal—a good air, and France—a fine country;
Or Barbary rich, and has Moors; the Turk
Pure devil, and allows enough to fat
The sides of villany, good living there !
I can live there, and there, and there;
Troth 'tis a villain can live any where.
But, say I go from hence, I leave behind me
A cardinal that will laugh; I leave behind me
A Philip that will clap his hands for joy,
And dance levaltoes through the Castile court;
But the deep'st wound of all is this, I leave
My wrongs, dishonours, and my discontents,
Oh! unreveng'd : my bed-rid enemies
Shall never be rais'd up by the strong physical
Curing of my sword; therefore stay still !
Many have hearts to strike, that dare not kill.
Leave me, Maria! Cardinal, this disgrace
Shall dye thy soul as inky as my face.
Pish hence Maria :
Enter Alv E Ro.
MARIA. To the king I'll fly,
He shall revenge my lord's indignity. [Exit.
ALv. Mendoza woos the king to banish thee.
Startle thy wonted spirits, awake thy soul,
And on thy resolution fasten wings,
Whose golden feathers may outstrip their hate.
Eleaz. I'll tie no golden feathers to my wings.
ALv. Shall they thus tread thee down, which
once were glad
To lacquey by thy conquering chariot wheels?