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Be urged, to shield me from thy bold appeal.
Dor. Thou know'st I have:
Seb. No; to disprove that lie, I must not draw.
Dor. I'll cut that isthmus.
Beware of such another vile excuse. Seb. O patience, heaven!Dor. Beware of patience, too;
Why, 'tis enjoyment to be summoned thus.
Dor. His ghost! then is my hated rival dead?
Seb. The question is beside our present purpose: Thou seest me ready; we delay too long.
Dor. A minute is not much in either's life, When there's but one betwixt us; throw it in, And give it him of us who is to fall.
Seb. He's dead; make haste, and thou may'st yet o'ertake him.
Dor. When I was hasty, thou delayed'st me longer.—
I pr'ythee let me hedge one moment more
Seb. If it would please thee, thou shouldst never know;
But thou, like jealousy, enquir'st a truth,
Now, judge thyself, who best deserved my love?
Dor. Had he been tempted so, so had he fallen; And so had I been favoured, had I stood.
Seb. What had been, is unknown; what is, appears. Confess, he justly was preferred to thee.
Dor. Had I been born with his indulgent stars, My fortune had been his, and his been mine.— O, worse than hell! what glory have I lost, And what has he acquired, by such a death! I should have fallen by Sebastian's side, My corps had been the bulwark of my king. His glorious end was a patched work of fate, 111 sorted with a soft effeminate life; It suited better with my life than his, So to have died: Mine had been of a piece, Spent in your service, dying at your feet.
Seb. The more effeminate and soft his life, The more his fame, to struggle to the field, And meet his glorious fate. Confess, proud spirit, (For I will have it from thy very mouth) That better he deserved my love than thou?
Dor. O, whither would you drive me? I must grant,—
Yes, I must grant, but with a swelling soul,— Henriquez had your love with more desert. For you he fought, and died: I fought against you;Through all the mazes of the bloody field, Hunted your sacred life; which that I missed Was the propitious error of my fate, Not of my soul: My soul's a regicide.
Seb. [More calmly.] Thou might'st have given it a more gentle name. Thou meant'st to kill a tyrant, not a king: Speak, didst thou not, Alonzo?
Dor. Can I speak! Alas, I cannot answer to Alonzo!— No, Dorax cannot answer to Alonzo; Alonzo was too kind a name for me. Then, when I fought and conquered with your arms,
VOL. VII. 3d,
In that blest age, I was the man you named:
Seb. Yet twice this day I owed my life to Dorax. Dor. I saved you but to kill you: There's my grief. Seb. Nay, if thou can'st be grieved, thou canst repent;
Thou could'st not be a villain, though thou would'st: Thou own'st too much, in owning thou hast erred; And I too little, who provoked thy crime.
Dor. O stop this headlong torrent of your goodness!It comes too fast upon a feeble soul, Half drowned in tears before: Spare my confusion;For pity spare; and say not first, you erred;For yet I have not dared, through guilt and shame, To throw myself beneath your royal feet.—
[Falls at his feet. Now spurn this rebel, this proud renegade; 'Tis just you should, nor will I more complain. Seb. Indeed thou should'st not ask forgiveness first;But thou prevent'st me still, in all that's noble.
[Taking him up. Yes, I will raise thee up with better news. Thy Violante's heart was ever thine; Compelled to wed, because she was my ward, Her soul was absent when she gave her hand; Nor could my threats, or his pursuing courtship, Effect the consummation of his love: So, still indulging tears, she pines for thee, A widow, and a maid.
Dor. Have I been cursing heaven, while heaven blest me?I shall run mad with extacy of joy: What! in one moment, to be reconciled
To heaven, and to my king, and to my love!—
Seb. Art thou so generous, too, to pity him?
[Embracing him. And all our quarrels be but such as these, Who shall love best, and closest shall embrace. Be what Henriquez was,—be my Alonzo.
Dor. What, my Alonzo, said you? my Alonzo! Let my tears thank you, for I cannot speak; And, if I could, Words were not made to vent such thoughts as mine. Seb. Some strange reverse of fate must sure attend This vast profusion, this extravagance Of heaven, to bless me thus. Tis gold so pure, It cannot bear the stamp, without alloy.— Be kind, ye powers! and take but half away: With ease the gifts of fortune I resign; But let my love and friend be ever mine. [Exeunt.
ACT V. SCENE I.
The Scene is, a Room of State.
Enter Dorax and Antonio.
Dor. Joy is on every face, without a cloud;
Such joy have I, both in myself and friends;
Ant. Pleasure has been the business of my life; And every change of fortune easy to me,