Aur. What for his sister?
Mach. Thy envy: she I have banish'd;
And her goods, to guard a shower of curses
From my head, I have given the poor.
Aur. Good policy, let's home to our designs:
I hate to be officious, yet my frown
Shall be dissolv'd to flattery for a crown.
[Exit.
Mach. Attend your lady. So, her forward spleen,
Tickled with thought of greatness makes the scene
Attempts run smooth: the haughty Moor shall be
The ladder, on whose servile back I'll mount
To greatness. If calm peace deny me easy way,
Rough war shall force it; which done, Raymond
And his Philippa must go seek an empire in
Elysium; for to rule predominant belongs
Alone to me: slaves are unworthy rule,
What state would set a crown upon a mule?
[Exit.
Antonio, disguised, sitting in a closet.
Ant. My soul is heavy, and my eyelids feel
The weighty power of lazy Morpheus:
Each element, that breathes a life within me,
Runs a contrary course, and conspire
To counterfeit a chaos: whilst the frame
And weak supporters of my inward man
Crack as beneath the weight of Atlas' burthen.
A sudden change! how my blear'd eyelids strive
To force a sleep 'gainst nature! O you powers,
That rule the better thoughts, if you have ought
To act on my frail body, let it be
With eagles' speed, or, if your wills so please,
Let my forepass'd and undigested wrongs
O'erwhelm my thoughts, and sink me to the ground
With their no less than death's remembrances.
Cease, bastard slave, to clog my senses
With the leaden weights of an unwilling sleep,
Unless thy raw-bon'd brother join his force,
And make a separation 'twixt
My airy soul and my all-earthly body;
I am o'ercome; Heaven work your wills;
My breath submits to this, as 'twould submit to death.
[Sleeps.
Soft music; Love descends half-way, then speaks.