University of Virginia Library

Scena 3t i a.

The Courtains being drawn there appears in his bed King Phillip, with his Lords, the Princesse Isabella, at the feet Mendoza, Alvero, Hortensio, Fernando, Roderigo, and to them Enter Queen in hast.
Queen.
Whose was that Screech-Owls voice, that like the sound
Of a hell tortur'd soul rung through mine ears
Nothing but horrid shreiks, nothing but death?
Whil'st I, vailing my knees to the cold earth,
Drowning my withered cheeks in my warm tears,
And stretching out my arms to pull from heaven
Health for the Royal Majestie of Spain,
All cry'd, The Majestie of Spain is dead:
That last word [dead] struck through the ecchoing air,
Rebounded on my heart, and smote me down
Freathlesse to the cold earth, and made me leave
My praiers for Philips life, but thanks to heaven
I see him live, and lives I hope to see
Unnumbred years to guide this Empery.

K. Phil.
The number of my years ends in one day,
E're this Sun's down all a King's glory sets,
For all our lives are but deaths counterfeits.
Father Mendoza and you Peers of Spain,
Dry your wet eies, for sorrow wanteth force
T'inspire a breathing soul in a dead coarse;
Such is your King: Where's Isabel our Daughter?

Mendo.
At your beds-feet confounded in her tears.

K. Phil.
She of your grief the heaviest burthen bears;
You can but lose a King, but she a Father.

Queen.
She bear the heaviest burthen; Oh say rather
I bear, and am born down, my sorrowing
Is for a husbands losse, losse of a King.

K. Phil.
No more, Alvero call the Princess hither.

Alvero.
Madam, his Majestie doth call for you.

K. Ph.
Come hither Isabella, reach a hand;
Yet now it shall not need, in stead of thine
Death shoving thee back claspe his hands in mine,
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?

Roder.
The Prince as yet is not return'd, my Lord.

K. Ph.
Commend me to him, if I ne're behold him:
This tells the order of my funeral,
Do it as 'tis set down? Embalm 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 Roial Robe,
According to the custome of the Land;
Then place my bones within that brazen shrine
Which death hath builded for my ancestors:
I cannot name death, but he strait 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 down,
When a few dribling minutes have run out;
Mine hour is ended: King of Spain farewell:
You all acknowledg him your Soveraign.

All.
When you are dead we will acknowledg 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 Philips looking-glasse.
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?

Fernand.
Yonder with crost arms stands he malecontent.

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 wil not men attempt to win a crown.
Mendoza is Protector of thy Realm,
I did elect him for his gravity,
I trust hee'l be a father to thy youth:
Call help Fernando, now I faint indeed.

Fern.
My Lords.

K. Phil.
Let none with a distracted voice
Shreik out, and trouble me in my departure:
Heavens hands I see are beckning for my soul;
I come, I come; thus do the proudest die,
Death hath no mercy, life no certainty.

Mendo.
As yet his soul's not from her temple gone,
Therefore forbear loud lamentation.

Queen. Mo.
Oh he is dead, hee's dead! lament and die,
In her King's end begins Spains misery

Isa.
He shall not end so soon; Father, dear Father!

Fern.
Forbear sweet Isabella, shreiks are vain.

Isa.
You crie forbear, you by his losse of breath
Have won a kingdom, you may cry forbear:
But I have lost a Father, and a King;
And no tongue shal controul my sorrowing.

Horten.
Whither, good Isabella?

Isa.
I will go,
Where I will languish in eternal wo.

Horten.
Nay, gentle Love.

Isa.
Talk not of love to me.
The world and the worlds pride henceforth I'le scorn.

Exit.
Hort.
My love shall follow thee, if thou deny'st
To live with poor Hortenzo as his wife;
I'le never change my love, but change my life.

Enter Philip Hastily.
Phillip.
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?

Qu.
Here lyes the temple of his Royall soul.

Fernan.
Here's all that's left of Philips Majesty.
Wash you his tombe with tears; Fernandoes mone,
Hating a Partner, shall be spent alone.

Exit.
Phil.
Oh happy father, misemble Sonne!
Philip is gone to Joy Philip's forlorn:
He dies to live; my life with woe is torn.

Qu.
Sweet sonne.

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.

Qu.
What means this rage, my sonne?

Phil.
Call not me your sonne:
My father whilst he liv'd tyr'd his strong armes
In bearing christian armour, gainst the Turk's
And spent his brains in warlike stratagems
To bring Confusion on damn'd Infidels;
Whil'st you that snorted here at home betraid
His name to everlasting Infamy;
Whilst you at home suffered his bed-chamber
To be a Brothelry, whilst you at home
Suffered his Queen to be a Concubine,
And wanton red cheekt boy's to be her bawds
Whilst shee reeking in that leachers armes.

Eleaz.
Me!

Phil.
Villaine 'tis thee, thou hel-begotten fiend at thee I stare.

Qu.
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 Divell 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 soules as I have sins:
As this from hence, so they from this should fly;
In just revenge of this Indignity.

Phil.
Give way, or I'le make way upon your bosoms.

Eleazer.
Did my dear Soveraigne live, sirrha that tongue.

Queen.
Did but King Philip live, traytor I'de tell,—

Phil.
A tale, that should rid both your soules to hell.
Tell Philip's ghost, that Philip tells his Queen,
That Philip's Queen is a Moor's Concubine:
Did the King live l'de tell him how you two,
Rip't up the entrails of his treasury:
With Masques and antick Revellings.

Eleaz.
Words insupportable; do'st hear me boy?

Que.
Stand you all still, and see me thus trod down.

Phil.
Stand you all still, yet let this divell stand here.

Mendo.
Forbear sweet Prince; Eleazar, I am now
Protector to Fernando King of Spain:
By that authority and by consent
Of all these peers, I uterly deprive thee
Of all those Royalties thou hold'st in Spain,

Qu. M.
Cardinall, who lends thee this Commission?

Ele.
Cardinall, i'le shorten thee by the head for this.

Phil.
Forward my Lord Mendoza, damne the feind:

Eleaz.
Princes of Spain, consent you to this pride?

All.
wee doe.

Qu.
For what cause? let his faith be try'd.

Men.
His treasons needs no tryal, they're too plain;
Come not within the Court, for if you do,
To beg with Indian slaves I'le banish you.

Exeunt all, but Alvero, Queen, and Eleazar.