King. What profane Breath was that pronounc’d her foul? Thy Mother’s Soul, though turn’d into a Cherubim, Was black to hers—Oh, she was all divine. —Alonzo, was it thou?—her Brother!
Alon. When she was good, I own’d that Title, Sir.
King. Good!—by all the Gods, she was as chaste as Vestals,
As Saints translated to Divine Abodes.
I offer’d her to be my Queen, Alonzo,
To share the growing Glories of my Youth;
But uncorrupted she my Crown contemn’d,
And on her Virtue’s Guard stood thus defended.
[Alon. weeps.
—Oh my Florella! let me here lie fix’d,
[Kneels.
And never rise, till I am cold and pale
As thou, fair Saint, art now—But sure
She cou’d not die;—that noble generous Heart,
That arm’d with Love and Honour, did rebate
All the fierce Sieges of my amorous Flame,
Might sure defend it self against those Wounds
Given by a Woman’s Hand,—or rather ‘twas a Devil’s.
[Rises.
—What dost thou merit for this Treachery?
Thou vilest of thy Sex—
But thou’rt a thing I have miscall’d a Mother,
And therefore will not touch thee—live to suffer
By a more shameful way;—but here she lies,
Whom I, though dead, must still adore as living.
Alon. Sir, pray retire, there’s danger in your stay;
When I reflect upon this Night’s Disorder,
And the Queen’s Art to raise my Jealousy;
And after that my Sister’s being murder’d,
I must believe there is some deeper Plot,
Something design’d against your sacred Person.
King. Alonzo, raise the Court, I’ll find it, [Ex. Alonzo. Tho ‘twere hid within my Mother’s Soul.
Qu. My gentle Son, pardon my kind mistake, I did believe her arm’d against thy Life.
King. Peace, Fury! Not ill boding Raven Shrieks,
Nor midnight Cries of murder’d Ghosts, are more
Ungrateful, than thy faint and dull Excuses.
—Be gone! and trouble not the silent Griefs,
Which will insensibly decay my Life,
Till like a Marble Statue I am fixt,
Dropping continual Tears upon her Tomb.
[Kneels and—weeps at Florella’s Feet.
Abd. [Within]. Guard all the Chamber-Doors—Fire and Confusion
Consume the Spanish Dogs—was I for this
Sent to fetch back a Philip, and a Cardinal,
To have my Wife abus’d?
Enter Abdelazer.
Qu. Patience, dear Abdelazer.