Phil. Gods! shall he—thy noble Hand upon’t, And for this Promise, take my grateful Heart. [Embraces him. —Shall Abdelazer fall?
Card. Yes, upon thee— Like the tall Ruins of a falling Tower, To crush thee into Dust— [As they embrace, the Guards seize him and the rest. Traitor and Bastard, I arrest thee of High-Treason.
Phil. Hah!—Traitor!—and Bastard—and from thee! [They hold Philip’s Hands.
Card. Guards, to your Hands the Prisoner is committed. There’s your Warrant—Alonzo, you are free. [Ex. Card.
Phil. Prithee lend me one Hand—to wipe my Eyes,
And see who ‘tis dares authorize this Warrant:
—The Devil and his Dam!—the Moor and Queen!
Their Warrant!—Gods! Alonzo, must we obey it?
Villains, you cannot be my Jailors; there’s no Prison,
No Dungeon deep enough; no Gate so strong,
To keep a Man confin’d—so mad with Wrong.
—Oh, dost thou weep, Alonzo?
Alon. I wou’d fain shed a Tear,
But from my Tears so many Show’rs are gone,
They are too poor to pay your Sorrow’s Tribute;
There is no Remedy, we must to Prison.
Phil. Yes, and from thence to Death—
I thought I should have had a Tomb hung round
With tatter’d Ensigns, broken Spears and Javelins;
And that my Body, with a thousand Wounds,
Shou’d have been borne on some triumphant Chariot,
With solemn Mourning, Drums, and Trumpets sounding;
Whilst all the wondring World with Grief and Envy,
Had wish’d my glorious Destiny their own:
But now, Alonzo—like a Beast I fall,
And hardly Pity waits my Funeral.
[Exeunt.