ELEAZ. And where is Isabel? She was with me. Enter PHILIP and HORTENZO like Moors. And so are you; yet are you well, you see: But in good time, see where their keepers come. Come hither, Zarack; Baltazar, come hither: Zarack, old Lord Alvero asks of thee

Where young Hortenzo is.

HORTEN. My lord, set free.

ELEAZ. Oh! is he so? Come hither, Baltazar:

Lord Christofero here would ask of thee,

Where Prince Philippo is.

PHIL. My lord, set free.

ELEAZ. Oh! is he so? Roderigo asketh me for

Isabel.

PHIL. I say, my lord, she's free.

ELEAZ. Oh? is she so?

PHIL. Believe me, lords.

HORTEN. And me.

PHIL. 'I set Philippo

HORTEN. I, Hortenzo free.

ELEAZ. My lords, because you shall believe me too, Go to the castle, I will follow you.

ALV. Thanks to the mighty Moor; and for his fame,

Be more in honour than thou art in name:
But let me wish the other prisoners well,
The queen and cardinal: let all have right,
Let law absolve them, or dissolve them quite.
ELEAZ. Grave man, thy grey hairs paint out
gravity;

Thy counsels wisdom, thy wit policy.

There let us meet, and with a general brain

Erect the peace of spirit, and of Spain.
ALV. Then will Spain flourish.

ELEAZ. Aye, when it is mine.
ROD. Oh, heavenly meeting!

ELEAZ. [Aside.] We must part in hell.

CHRISTO. True peace of joy.

[Exeunt.

Manent ELEAZAR, PHILIP, and HORTENZO.

ELEAZ. 'Tis a dissembling knell;

Farewell, my lords! meet there! so, ha, ha, ha!

[Draws his rapier.
Now tragedy, thou minion of the night,
Rhamnusia's pew-fellow, to thee I'll sing
Upon a harp made of dead Spanish bones,
The proudest instrument the world affords;
When thou in crimson jollity shalt bathe
Thy limbs, as black as mine, in springs of blood
Still gushing from the conduit-head of Spain.
To thee, that never blushest, though thy cheeks
Are full of blood, O saint Revenge, to thee
I consecrate my murders, all my stabs,
My bloody labours, tortures, stratagems,

The volume of all wounds that wound from me;
Mine is the stage, thine is the tragedy.

Where am I now? Oh! at the prison; true.
Zarack and Baltazar, come hither! see!
Survey my library! I study-I,
Whilst you two sleep; marry, 'tis villany.
Here's a good book, Zarack, behold it well,
It's deeply written, for 'twas made in hell:

Now, Baltazar, a better book for thee;

But, for myself, this, this, the best of all;
And therefore do I chain it

every day,

For fear the readers steal the art away.

Where thou stand'st now there must Hortenzo hang, Like Tantalus in a maw-eating pang.

There, Baltazar, must Prince Philip stand,

Like damn'd Prometheus; and to act his part,
Shall have a dagger sticking at his heart.

But in my room I'll set the cardinal,

And he shall preach repentance to them all.
Ha, ha, ha!

PHIL. Damnation tickles him; he laughs again.
Philip must stand there and bleed to death.
Well, villain, I only laugh to see

That we shall live to out-laugh him and thee.
ELEZA. Oh! fit, fit, fit! stay, a rare jest! rare jest!
Zarack, suppose thou art Hortenzo now;

I pray thee stand in passion of a pang,

To see, by thee, how quaintly he would hang. HORTEN. [Aside.] I am Hortenzo; tut, tut, fear

not man,

Thou lookest like Zarack.

ELEZA. Aye, Hortenzo,

He shall hang here i' faith; come, Zarack, come,
And, Baltazar, take thou Philippo's room:
First let me see you plac'd.

PHIL. We're plac'd. [He fastens them.]
ELEAZ. Slaves! ha, ha, ha!

You are but players, they must end the play;
How like Hortenzo and Philippo! ha!

Stand my two slaves! were they as black as you.
Well, Zarack, I'll unfix thee first of all,
Thou shalt help me to play the cardinal:
This iron engine on his head I'll clap,
Like a pope's mitre or a cardinal's cap;
Then manacle his hands, as thou dost mine;
So, so, I pray thee, Zarack, set him free,
That both of you may stand and laugh at me.
PHIL. 'Tis fine, i' faith; call in more company;
Alvero, Roderigo, and the rest!

Who will not laugh at Eleazar's jest?

ELEAZ. What! Zarack! Baltazar!

PHIL. Ah! anon, anon;

We have not laugh'd enough, it's but begun.

Who knocks?

ELEAZ. Unmanacle my hands I say.

[Knocking.

PHIL. Then shall we mar our mirth, and spoil the

PHIL. I thank you for that flout;

To let Alvero in, and let you out.

ELEAZ. Villains! slaves! am not I your lord, the

Moor,

And Eleazar?

Q. Mo. And the devil of hell;

And more than that, and Eleazar too.

ELEAZ. And devil's dam, what do I here with you?

Q. Mo. My tongue shall torture thee.

ELEAZ. I know thee theu;

All women's tongues are tortures unto men.

Q. Mo. Spaniards, this was the villain; this is he, Who through incitements of alluring lust,

And glory, which makes silly women proud
And men malicious, did incense my spirit
Beyond the limits of a woman's mind

To wrong myself, and that lord cardinal;
And that which sticks more near unto my blood,
He that was nearest to my blood, my son,
To dispossess him of his right by wrong:
Oh! that I might embrace him on this breast,
Which did enclose him when he first was born:
No greater happiness can heaven show'r upon me,
Than to circle in these arms of mine

That son, whose royal blood I did defame
To crown with honour an ambitious Moor.
PHIL. Thus then thy happiness is complete ;

{Embraces her.

Behold thy Philip ransom'd from that prison,
In which the Moor had cloistered him.

HORTEN. And here's Hortenzo.

ELEAZ. Then am I betrayed and cozen'd In my own designs; I did contrive

Their ruin; but their subtle policy

Hath blasted my ambitious thoughts. Villains!
Where's Zarack? Where's Baltazar?