Men. Fernando, I am wrong'd; by Peter's chair,
Mendoza vows revenge. I'll lay aside
My cardinal's hat, and in a wall of steel,
The glorious livery of a soldier,
Fight for my late-lost honour.
King. Cardinal!
Men. King! thou shalt be no king for wronging me.
The Pope shall send his bulls through all thy realm,
And pull obedience from thy subjects' hearts,
To put on armour of the Mother Church.
Curses shall fall like lightnings on thy head,
Bell, book, and candle: holy water, prayers,
Shall all chime vengeance to the court of Spain,
Till they have power to conjure down that fiend,
That damn'd Moor, that devil, that Lucifer,
That dares aspire the staff the card'nal sway'd.
Ele. Ha, ha, ha! I laugh yet, that the cardinal's vex'd.
Phil. Laugh'st thou, base slave! the wrinkles of that scorn
Thine own heart's blood shall fill. Brother, farewell;
Since you disprove the will our father left
For base lust of a loathed concubine.
Ele. Ha! concubine! who does Prince Philip mean?
Phil. [To Eleazar.] Thy wife. [To Alvero.] Thy daughter. Base, aspiring lords,
Who to buy honour are content to sell
Your names to infamy, your souls to hell.
And stamp you now? Do, do, for you shall see
I go for vengeance, and she'll come with me.
Ele. Stay, for she's here already, see, proud boy.
[They both draw.
Queen-M. Hold! stay this fury; if you long for blood,
Murder me first. Dear son, you are a king;
Then stay the violent tempest of their wrath.