And bids me come away: I must! I must!

Though kings be gods on earth, they turn to dust. Is not Prince Philip come from Portugal ?

ROD. The prince, as yet, is not return'd, my lord. K. PHIL. Commend me to him if I ne'er behold

my body;

Though worms do make no difference of flesh,
Yet kings are curious here to dig their graves;
Such is man's frailty: when I am embalm'd,
Apparel me in a rich royal robe,

According to the custom of the land;

Then place my bones within that brazen shrine,
Which death hath builded for my ancestors;
I cannot name death, but he straight steps in,
And pulls me by the arm.

FERN. His grace doth faint,

Help me, my lords, softly to raise him up.

Enter ELEAZAR, and stands sadly by.

K. PHIL. Lift me not up, I shortly must go When a few dribbling minutes have run out, Mine hour's ended. King of Spain farewell! You all acknowledge him your sovereign ?

down.

ALL. When you are dead we will acknowledge him.

K. PHIL. Govern this kingdom well; to be a king Is given to many; but to govern well, Granted to few. Have care to Isabel,

Her virtue was King Philip's looking-glass;
Reverence the queen your mother; love your sister,
And the young prince your brother: even that day,
When Spain shall solemnize my obsequies,

And lay me up in earth, let them crown you.
Where's Eleazar, Don Alvero's son ?

FERN. Yonder, with cross'd arms, stands he malcontent.

K. PHIL. I do commend him to thee for a man
Both wise and warlike; yet beware of him:
Ambition wings his spirit; keep him down ;
What will not men attempt to win a crown?
Mendoza is protector of thy realm
I did elect him for his gravity;

I trust he'll be a father to thy youth.
Call help, Fernando! now I faint indeed,
FERN. My lords!

K. PHIL. Let none with a distracted voice
Shriek out, and trouble me in my departure.
Heaven's hands I see are beckoning for my soul;
I come! I come! thus do the proudest die;
Death hath no mercy, life no certainty.

[Dies. MEND. As yet his soul's not from her temple

gone,

Therefore forbear loud lamentation.

Q. Mo. Oh! he's dead, he's dead! lament and die ! In her king's end begins Spain's misery.

ISA. He shall not end so soon. Father, dear father! FERN. Forbear, sweet Isabella! shrieks are vain. ISA. You cry forbear; you, by his loss of breath,

Have won a kingdom, you may cry forbear:
But I have lost a father and a king,
And no tongue shall control my sorrowing.
HORTEN. Whither, good Isabella?
ISA. I will go

Where I will languish in eternal woe.

HORTEN. Nay, gentle love!

ISA. Talk not of love to me,

The world and the world's pride henceforth I'll scorn.

[Exit.

HORTEN. My love shall follow thee; if thou

deny'st

To live with poor Hortenzo as his wife,

I'll never change my love, but change my life.

Enter PHILIP hastily.

PHIL. I know he is not dead; I know proud death Durst not behold such sacred majesty.

Why stand you thus distracted? Mother! brother!
My lord Mendoza! where's my royal father?
Q. Mo. Here lies the temple of his royal soul.
FERN. Here's all that's left of Philip's majesty;
Wash his tomb with tears,
you
Fernando's moan,

Hating a partner, shall be sent alone.

PHIL. Oh, happy father! miserable son !

Philip is gone to joy, Philip's forlorn,

He dies to live, my life with woe is torn.

Q. Mo. Sweet son!

[Exit.

PHIL. Sweet mother: Oh! how I now do shame

To lay on one so foul, so fair a name :

Had you been a true mother, a true wife,
This king had not so soon been robb'd of life.
Q. Mo. What means this rage, my son?
PHIL. Call not me your son!

My father, whilst he liv'd, tir'd his strong arms
In bearing christian armour 'gainst the Turks,
And spent his brains in warlike stratagems,
To bring confusion on damn'd infidels :
Whilst you, that snorted here at home, betray'd
His name to everlasting infamy;

Whilst you at home, suffer'd his bed-chamber
To be a brothelry; whilst you at home,
Suffer'd his queen to be a concubine,

And wanton red-cheek'd boys to be her bawds;
Whilst she, reeking in that letcher's arms-
ELEAZ. Me!

PHIL. Villain ! 'tis thee,

Thou hell-begotten fiend; at thee I stare!

Q. Mo. Philip, thou art a villain to dishonour me. PHIL. Mother, I am no villain; 'tis this villain Dishonours you and me, dishonours Spain, Dishonours all these lords; this devil is he, That

ELEAZ. What! oh, pardon me! I must throw off All chains of duty wert thou ten kings sons; Had I as many souls as I have sins,

As this from hence, so they from this should fly,

In just revenge of this indignity.

[He draws: the lords interpose.

PHIL. Give way! or I'll make way upon your bosoms.

ELEAZ. Did my dear sovereign live, sirrah, that tongue

Q. Mo. Did but King Philip live, traitor, I'd tell

PHIL. A tale that should rid both your souls to

hell.

Tell Philip's ghost, that Philip tells his queen,
That Philip's queen is a Moor's concubine;
Did the king live, I'd tell him how you two
Ripp'd up the entrails of his treasury,
With masks and antic revellings.

ELEAZ. Words insupportable! dost hear me, boy?

Q. Mo. Stand you all still, and see me thus trod down?

PHIL. Stand you all still, yet let this devil stand here?

MEND. Forbear, sweet prince: Eleazar, I am

now

Protector to Fernando, King of Spain;

By that authority, and by consent
Of all these peers, I utterly deprive thee

Of all those royalties thou holdst in Spain.

Q. Mo. Cardinal, who lends thee this commission?

ELEAZ. Cardinal, I'll shorten thee by the head for

this.