ACT IV., SCENE 1.

_Enter_ EMANUEL, _King of Portugal_, PRINCE PHILIP, MENDOZA, ALVERO, _with drums and soldiers marching_.

K. OF PORT. Poor Spain! how is the body of thy peace Mangled and torn by an ambitious Moor. How is thy prince and councillors abus'd, And trodden under the base foot of scorn. Wrong'd lords, Emanuel of Portugal partakes A falling share in all your miseries; And though the tardy hand of slow delay Withheld us from preventing your mishaps Yet shall revenge dart black confusion Into the bosom of that damned fiend.

PHIL. But is it possible our mother-queen Should countenance his ambition?

ALV. Her advice is as a steersman to direct his course; Besides, as we by circumstance have learnt, She means to marry him.

PHIL. Then, here upon my knees, I pluck allegiance from her; all that love, Which by innative duty I did owe her, Shall henceforth be converted into hate. This will confirm the world's opinion That I am base-born, and the damned Moor Had interest in my birth; this wrong alone Gives new fire to the cinders of my rage; I may be well transform'd from what I am, When a black devil is husband to my dam.

K. OF PORT. Prince, let thy rage give way to patience, And set a velvet brow upon the face Of wrinkled anger: our keen swords Must right these wrongs, and not light airy words.

PHIL. Yet words may make the edge of rage more sharp, And whet a blunted courage with revenge.

ALV. Here's none wants whetting, for our keen resolves Are steel'd unto the back with double wrongs; Wrongs that would make a handless man take arms: Wrongs that would make a coward resolute.

CAR. Why, then, join all our several wrongs in one, And from these wrongs assume a firm resolve To send this devil to damnation.

[_Drums afar off._

PHIL. I hear the sound of his approaching march. Stand fair; Saint Jacques for the right of Spain!

_Enter the_ MOOR, RODERIGO, CHRISTOFERO, _with drums, colours, and soldiers marching bravely_.

ELE. Bastard of Spain!

PHIL. Thou true-stamp'd son of hell, Thy pedigree is written in thy face.

[_Alarum and a battle; the_ MOOR _prevails: all exeunt_.