Qu. Nor I:
And when the King you urge me to remove,
It may be from Ambition, not from Love.
Abd. Those Scruples did not in your Bosom dwell, When you a King did in a Husband kill.
Qu. How, Sir, dare you upbraid me with that Sin, To which your Perjuries first drew me in?
Abd. You interrupt my Sense; I only meant
A Sacrifice to Love so well begun
Shou’d not Devotion want to finish it;
And if that stop to all our Joys were gone,
The envying World wou’d to our Power submit:
But Kings are sacred, and the Gods alone
Their Crimes must judge, and punish too, or none—
Yet he alone destroys his Happiness.
Qu. There’s yet one more—
Abd. One more! give me his Name, And I will turn it to a Magick Spell, To bind him ever fast.
Qu. Florella.
Abd. Florella! Oh, I cou’d gnaw my Chains |
That humble me so low as to adore her: | [Aside.
But the fond Blaze must out—while I erect |
A nobler Fire more fit for my Ambition. |
—Florella dies—a Victim to your Will.
I will not let you lose one single Wish,
For a poor Life, or two;
Tho I must see my Glories made a Prey,
And not demand ‘em from the Ravisher;
Nor yet complain—because he is my King:
But Philip’s Brow no sacred Ointment deifies,
If he do wrong, stands fair for the Revenger.
Qu. Philip! instruct me how t’ undo that Boy I hate; The publick Infamy I have receiv’d, I will revenge with nothing less than Death.
Abd. ‘Tis well we can agree in our Resentments,
For I have vow’d he shall not live a day;
He has an Art to pry into our Secrets:
To all besides our Love is either hid,
Or else they dare not see—But this Prince
Has a most dangerous Spirit must be calm’d.