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You whoreson fat-chop'd guts, I'll melt away
That larded body by the heat of fight,
Which I'll compel thee to, or else by flying:
To work which, I'll give way to the proud foe,
Whilst I stand laughing to behold thee run.
Cardinal, I'll do't, I'll do't; a Moor, a Moor!
Philip cries, a Moor; holla! ha! whoo!

Enter KING OF PORTUGAL.

K. OF PORT. Prince Philip! Philip!

PHIL. Here; plague! where's the Moor?

K. OF PORT. The Moor's a devil: never did horrid

fiend.

Compell'd by some magician's mighty charm,

Break through the prisons of the solid earth
With more strange horror, than this prince of hell:
This damned negro, lion-like, doth rush

Through all, and spite of all knit opposition.

PHIL. Puh! puh! where? where?

I'll meet him, where? You mad me!

'Tis not his arm

That acts such wonders, but our cowardice.

This cardinal, oh! this cardinal is a slave.

Enter CAPTAIN.

CAPT. Sound a retreat, or else the day is lost!
PHIL. I'll beat that dog to death that sounds

retreat.

K. OF PORT. Philip!

PHIL. I'll tear his heart out that dares name but

sound.

K. OF PORT. Sound a retreat!

PHIL. Who's that? you tempt my sword, sir; Continue this alarum, fight pell-mell;

Fight, kill, be damn'd! This fat-back, coward cardinal,

Lies heavy on my shoulders; this, aye this,

Shall fling him off. Sound a retreat! Zounds! you mad me!

Ambition plumes the Moor, whilst black despair,
Offering to tear from him the diadem

Which he usurps, makes him to cry at all,
And to act deeds beyond astonishment;
But Philip is the night that darks his glories:
This sword, yet reeking with his negro's blood,
Being grasp'd by equity and this strong arm,
Shall through and through.

ALL. Away then!

PHIL. From before me.

Stay, stand! stand fast, fight! a Moor, a Moor!

SCENE III.

Enter ELEAZAR, ZARACK, BALTAZAR, RODERIGO, CHRISTOFERO, and others; they fight: the Moors are beat in, leaving Eleazar, weary; a Moor lays slain.

ELEAZ. Oh! for more work, more souls to post to

hell,

That I might pile up Charon's boat so full,
Until it topple o'er! Oh! 'twould be sport
To see them sprawl through the black slimy lake.
Ha, ha! there's one going thither sirrah! you,

You slave! who kill'd thee? How he grins! this

breast,

Had it been temper'd and made proof like mine,

It never would have been a mark for fools

To hit afar off with their dastard bullets.

But thou didst well; thou knew'st I was thy lord,
And out of love and duty to me, here,

Where I fell weary, thou laid'st down thyself,
To bear me up thus: God a-mercy, slave,
A king for this shall give thee a rich grave.

As he sits down, enter PHILIP with a broken sword. PHIL. I'll wear thee to the pommel, but I'll find The subject of mine honour and revenge.

Moor, 'tis for thee I seek! come, now, now take me At good advantage; speak!, where art thou?

ELEAZ. Here!

PHIL. Fate and revenge, I thank you. Rise!
ELEAZ. Leave and live.

PHIL. Villain, it is Philippo that bids rise.

ELEAZ. It had been good for thee to have hid thy

name;

For the discovery, like to a dangerous charm,

Hurts him that finds it. Wherefore do those blood

hounds,

Thy rage and valour, chase me?

PHIL. Why, to kill thee.

ELEAZ. With that! what a blunt axe? Think'st

thou, I'll let

Thy fury take a full blow at this head,

Having these arms? Be wise, go change thy weapon.

PHIL. Oh, sir!

ELEAZ. I'll stay thy coming.

PHIL. Thou'lt be damn'd first.

ELEAZ. By all our Indian gods

PHIL. Puh! never swear.

Thou know'st 'tis for a kingdom which we fight,
And for that who'll not venture to hell gates?
Come, Moor, I'm arm'd with more than complete
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,

And lay my finger here; oh! 'tis too dull
To let out blood enough to quench them all.
But when I see your face, and know what fears
Hang on thy troubled soul, like leaden weights
To make it sink, I know this finger's touch
Has strength to throw thee down; I know this iron.
Is sharp and long enough to reach that head.
Fly not, devil; if thou do-

ELEAZ. HOW! fly! Oh, base!

PHIL. Come then.

ELEAZ. Stay, Philip! whosoe'er begat thee—

PHIL. Why, slave, a king begat me.

ELEAZ. May be so;

But I'll be sworn thy mother was a queen;

For her sake will I kill thee nobly.

Fling me thy sword, there's mine; I scorn to strike A man disarm'd.

PHIL. For thus dishonouring me,

I'll give thee one stab more.

ELEAZ. I'll run away,

Unless thou change that weapon or take mine.

PHIL. Neither.

ELEAZ. Farewell!

PHIL. S'heart, stay! and if you dare;
Do as I do, oppose thy naked breast

Against this poniard; see! here's this for thine.
ELEAZ. I am for thee, Philip.

PHIL. Come! nay, take more ground,
That with a full career thou may'st strike home.
ELEAZ. Thou'lt run away then.

PHIL. Hah!

ELEAZ. Thou'lt run away then.

PHIL. 'Faith I will; but first, on this I'll bear Thy panting heart, thy head upon thy spear. ELEAZ. Come!

Enter the CARDINAL and the KING of PORTUGAL on the one, and MOORs on the other side.

CARD. Upon the Moors!

MOORS. Upon the cardinal!

PHIL. Hold! cardinal; strike not any of our side!
ELEAZ. Hold! Moors; strike not any of our side!
PHIL. We two will close this battle.

ELEAZ. Come! agreed.

Stand armies and give aim, whilst we two bleed. CARD. With poniards! 'tis too desperate; dear Philip

PHIL. Away! have at the Moor! s'heart! let me

come!

VOL. II.

18

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