Enter Alonzo.
Alon. Sir, bring up your Reserves, or all is lost; Ambition plumes the Moor, that makes him act Deeds of such Wonder, that even you wou’d envy them.
Phil. ‘Tis well—I’ll raise my Glories to that dazling height, Shall darken his, or set in endless Night.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV. A Grove.
Enter Card. and Queen; the noise of a Battel continuing afar off all the Scene.
Qu. By all thy Love, by all thy Languishments,
By all those Sighs and Tears paid to my Cruelty,
By all thy Vows, thy passionate Letters sent,
I do conjure thee, go not forth to fight:
Command your Troops not to engage with Philip,
Who aims at nothing but the Kingdom’s ruin.
—Fernando’s kill’d—the Moor has gain’d the Power,
A Power that you nor Philip can withstand;
And is’t not better he were lost than Spain,
Since one must be a Sacrifice?
Besides—if I durst tell it,
There’s something I cou’d whisper to thy Soul,
Wou’d make thee blush at ev’ry single Good
Thou’ast done that insolent Boy;—But ‘tis not now
A time for Stories of so strange a Nature,—
Which when you know, you will conclude with me,
That every Man that arms for Philip’s Cause,
Merits the name of Traitor.—
Be wise in time, and leave his shameful Interest,
An Interest thou wilt curse thy self for taking;
Be wise, and make Alliance with the Moor.
Card. And, Madam, should I lay aside my Wrongs,
Those publick Injuries I have receiv’d,
And make a mean and humble Peace with him?
—No, let Spain be ruin’d by our Civil Swords,
E’er for its safety I forego mine Honour.—
Enter an Officer.
Offi. Advance, Sir, with your Troops, or we are lost.