The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume 2 | Page 5

gay young Courtiers christen me--But, Don, Altho my Skin be black, within my Veins Runs Blood as red, and royal as the best.-- My Father, Great Abdela, with his Life Lost too his Crown; both most unjustly ravish'd By Tyrant Philip, your old King I mean. How many Wounds his valiant Breast receiv'd E'er he would yield to part with Life and Empire: Methinks I see him cover'd o'er with Blood, Fainting amidst those numbers he had conquer'd. I was but young, yet old enough to grieve, Tho not revenge, or to defy my Fetters: For then began my Slavery; and e'er since Have seen that Diadem by this Tyrant worn, Which crown'd the sacred Temples of my Father, And shou'd adorn mine now--shou'd! nay, and must-- Go tell him what I say--'twill be but Death-- Go, Sir,--the Queen's not here.
Alon. Do not mistake me, Sir,--or if I wou'd, I've no old King to tell--the King is dead-- And I am answer'd, Sir, to what I came for, And so good night. [Exit.
Abd. Now all that's brave and villain seize my Soul, Reform each Faculty that is not ill, And make it fit for Vengeance, noble Vengeance. Oh glorious Word! fit only for the Gods, For which they form'd their Thunder, Till Man usurp'd their Power, and by Revenge Sway'd Destiny as well as they, and took their trade of killing. And thou, almighty Love, Dance in a thousand forms about my Person, That this same Queen, this easy Spanish Dame, May be bewitch'd, and dote upon me still; Whilst I make use of the insatiate Flame To set all Spain on fire.-- Mischief, erect thy Throne, And sit on high; here, here upon my Head. Let Fools fear Fate, thus I my Stars defy: The influence of this--must raise my Glory high. [Pointing to his Sword.
[Exit.
SCENE II. A Room in the Palace.
Enter Ferdinand weeping, Ordonio bearing the Crown, followed by Alonzo, leading Leonora weeping; Florella, Roderigo, Mendozo, met by the Queen weeping; Elvira and Women.
Qu. What doleful Cry was that, which like the Voice Of angry Heav'n struck thro my trembling Soul? Nothing but horrid Shrieks, nothing but Death; Whilst I, bowing my Knees to the cold Earth, Drowning my Cheeks in Rivulets of Tears, Sending up Prayers in Sighs, t' implore from Heaven Health for the Royal Majesty of Spain-- All cry'd, the Majesty of Spain is dead. Whilst the sad Sound flew through the ecchoing Air, And reach'd my frighted Soul--Inform my Fears, Oh my Fernando, oh my gentle Son-- [Weeps.
King. Madam, read here the truth, if looks can shew That which I cannot speak, and you wou'd know: The common Fare in ev'ry face appears; A King's great loss the publick Grief declares, But 'tis a Father's Death that claims my Tears. [Card. leads in the Queen attended.
Leon. Ah, Sir! If you thus grieve, who ascend by what y'ave lost, To all the Greatness that a King can boast; What Tributes from my Eyes and Heart are due, Who've lost at once a King and Father too?
King. My Leonora cannot think my Grief Can from those empty Glories find relief; Nature within my Soul has equal share, And that and Love surmount my Glory there. Had Heav'n continu'd Royal Philip's Life, And giv'n me bright Florella for a Wife, [Bows to Florella. To Crown and Scepters I had made no claim, But ow'd my Blessings only to my Flame. But Heav'n well knew in giving thee away, [To Flor. I had no bus'ness for another Joy. [Weeps. The King, Alanzo, with his dying Breath, [Turns to Alon. and Leon. To you my beauteous Sister did bequeath; And I his Generosity approve, And think you worthy Leonora's Love.
Enter Card. and Queen weeping.
Alon. Too gloriously my Services are paid, In the possession of this Royal Maid, To whom my guilty Heart durst ne'er aspire, But rather chose to languish in its Fire.
Enter Philip in a Rage, Antonio and Sebastian.
Phil. I know he is not dead; what envious Powers Durst snatch him hence? he was all great and good, As fit to be ador'd as they above. Where is the Body of my Royal Father? That Body which inspir'd by's sacred Soul, Aw'd all the Universe with ev'ry Frown, And taught 'em all Obedience with his Smiles. Why stand you thus distracted--Mother--Brother-- My Lords--Prince Cardinal-- Has Sorrow struck you dumb? Is this my Welcome from the Toils of War? When in his Bosom I shou'd find repose, To meet it cold and pale!--Oh, guide me to him, And with my Sighs I'll breathe new Life into't.
King. There's all that's left of Royal Philip now, [Phil, goes out. Pay all thy Sorrow there--whilst mine alone Are swoln too high t' admit of Lookers on. [Ex. King weeping.
Philip returns weeping.
Phil. His