Abd. I was but young, and yet I well remember My Father’s Wound—poor Barbary—but no more.
Qu. In absence of my King I liv’d retir’d,
Shut up in my Apartment with my Women,
Suffering no Visits, but the Cardinal’s,
To whom the King had left me as his Charge;
But he, unworthy of that Trust repos’d,
Soon turned his Business into Love.
Card. Heavens! how will this Story end? [Aside.
Qu. A Tale, alas! unpleasant to my Ear,
And for the which I banish’d him my Presence,
But oh, the power of Gold! he bribes my Women,
That they should tell me (as a Secret too)
The King (whose Wars were finish’d) would return
Without acquainting any with the time;
He being as jealous, as I was fair and young,
Meant to surprize me in the dead of Night:
This pass’d upon my Youth, which ne’er knew Art.
Card. Gods! is there any Hell but Woman’s Falshood! [Aside.
Qu. The following Night I hasted to my Bed,
To wait my expected Bliss—nor was it long
Before his gentle Steps approach’d my Ears.
Undress’d he came, and with a vigorous haste
Flew to my yielding Arms: I call’d him King,
My dear lov’d Lord; and in return he breath’d
Into my Bosom, in soft gentle Whispers,
My Queen! my Angel! my lov’d Isabella!
And at that word—I need not tell the rest.
Alon. What’s all this, Madam, to the Cardinal?
Qu. Ah, Sir, the Night too short for his Caresses, Made room for Day, Day that betray’d my Shame; For in my guilty Arms I found the Cardinal.
Alon. Madam, why did not you complain of this?
Qu, Alas, I was but young, and full of Fears;
Bashful, and doubtful of a just Belief,
Knowing King Philip’s rash and jealous Temper;
But from your Justice I expect Revenge.