M. of Posa. My lord Ruy-Gomez! and the king not here!
You, who so eminent a favourite are
In a king's eye, should ne'er be absent thence.
Ruy-Gom. No, sir, 'tis you that by a rising prince
Are cherished, and so tread a safer way,
Rich in that bliss the world waits to enjoy.
M. of Posa. Since what may bless the world we ought to prize,
I wish there were no public enemies;
No lurking serpents poison to dispense,
Nor wolves to prey on noble innocence;
No flatterers, that with royal goodness sport,
Those stinking weeds that overrun a court.
Ruy-Gom. Nay, if good wishes anything could do,
I have as earnest wishes, sir, as you:
That though perhaps our king enjoys the best
Of power, yet may he still be doubly blest.
May he—
M. of Posa. Nay, Gomez, you shall ne'er outdo me there;
Since for great Philip's good I would you were,
If possible, more honest than you are.
Ruy-Gom. Why, Posa; what defect can you discern?
M. of Posa. Nay, half your mysteries I'm yet to learn
Though this I'll boldly justify to all,—
That you contrive a generous prince's fall. [Ruy-Gomez smiles.
Nay, think not by your smiles and careless port
To laugh it off; I come not here to sport;
I do not, sir.
Ruy-Gom. Young lord, what meaning has
This heat?
M. of Posa. To let you see I know you're base.
Ruy-Gom. Nay, then, I pardon ask that I did smile:
By Heaven, I thought you'd jested all this while.
Base!