Seb. How fares our royal prisoner, Muley-Zeydan?
Dor. Disposed to grant whatever I desire,
To gain a crown, and freedom. Well I know him,
Of easy temper, naturally good,
And faithful to his word.
Seb. Yet one thing wants,
To fill the measure of my happiness;
424 I'm still in pain for poor Alvarez' life.
Dor. Release that fear, the good old man is safe;
I paid his ransom,
And have already ordered his attendance.
Seb. O bid him enter, for I long to see him.
Enter Alvarez with a Servant, who departs when Alvarez is entered.
Alv. Now by my soul, and by these hoary hairs, [Falling down, and embracing the King's knees.
I'm so o'erwhelmed with pleasure, that I feel
A latter spring within my withering limbs,
That shoots me out again.
Seb. Thou good old man,[Raising him.
Thou hast deceived me into more, more joys,
Who stood brim-full before.
Alv. O my dear child,—
I love thee so, I cannot call thee king,—
Whom I so oft have dandled in these arms!
What, when I gave thee lost, to find thee living!
'Tis like a father, who himself had 'scaped
A falling house, and, after anxious search,
Hears from afar his only son within;
And digs through rubbish, till he drags him out,
To see the friendly light.
Such is my haste, so trembling is my joy,
To draw thee forth from underneath thy fate.
Seb. The tempest is o'erblown, the skies are clear,
And the sea charmed into a calm so still,
That not a wrinkle ruffles her smooth face.