Card. On these Conditions all I am is yours; Philip we cannot fear, all he can do Is to retire for refuge into Portugal.
Abd. That wou’d be dangerous— Is there no Arts to get him in our Power?
Card. Perhaps by Policy, and seeming Friendship,
For we have reason yet to fear his Force;
And since I’m satisfy’d he’s not my lawful Prince,
I cannot think it an Impiety
To sacrifice him to the Peace of Spain,
And every Spirit that loves Liberty:
First we’ll our Forces join, and make ‘em yours,
Then give me your Authority to arrest him;
If so we can surprize him, we’ll spare the hazard
Of a second Battel.
Abd. My Lord, retire into my inner Tent, And all things shall be instantly perform’d.
[Exeunt all.
SCENE VII. The Grove.
Enter some of Philip’s Party running over the Stage, pursued by Philip, Alonzo, Sebastian, Antonio, and some few Officers more.
Alon. Do not pursue ‘em, Sir, such coward Slaves Deserve not Death from that illustriate Hand.
Phil. Eternal Plagues consume ‘em in their flight;
Oh, this damn’d coward Cardinal has betray’d us!
When all our Swords were nobly dy’d in Blood,
When with red Sweat that trickled from our Wounds
We’ad dearly earn’d the long disputed Victory,
Then to lose all, then to sound base Retreat,
It swells my Anger up to perfect Madness.
Alon. Indeed ‘twas wondrous strange.