Qu. ‘Twas in his Passion, noble Abdelazer—
[King talking to Phil. aside.
Imprudently thou dost disarm thy Rage,
And giv’st the Foe a warning, e’er thou strik’st;
When with thy Smiles thou might’st securely kill.
You know the Passion that the Cardinal bears me;
His Pow’r too o’er Philip, which well manag’d
Will serve to ruin both: put up your Sword—
When next you draw it, teach it how to act.
Abd. You shame me, and command me.
Qu. Why all this Rage?—does it become you, Sir? [To Men. aside. What is’t you mean to do?
Men. You need not care, whilst Abdelazer’s safe.
Qu. Jealousy, upon my Life—how gay it looks!
Men. Madam, you want that pitying Regard
To value what I do, or what I am;
I’ll therefore lay my Cardinal’s Hat aside,
And in bright Arms demand my Honour back.
Qu. Is’t thus, my Lord, you give me Proofs of Love?
Have then my Eyes lost all their wonted Power?
And can you quit the hope of gaining me,
To follow your Revenge?—go—go to fight,
Bear Arms against your Country, and your King,
All for a little worthless Honour lost.
Men. What is it, Madam, you would have me do?
Qu. Not side with Philip, as you hope my Grace— Now, Sir, you know my Pleasure, think on’t well.
Men. Madam, you know your Power o’er your Slave,
And use it too tyrannically—but dispose
The Fate of him, whose Honour, and whose Life,
Lies at your Mercy—
I’ll stay and die, since ‘tis your gracious Pleasure.