[ACT IV, Scene2]

                                             

 

Enter SEBASTIAN, King of Portugal, the DUKE OF AVERO, STUKELEY, and  

[JONAS with Soldiers, a Guard.]

 

SEBASTIAN

   Why, tell me, lords, why left ye Portugal,

   And cross’d the seas with us to Barbary?

   Was it to see the country and no more,

   Or else to fly before ye were assail’d?

   I am ashamed to think that such as you,

   Whose deeds have been renowned heretofore,

   Shold slack in such an act of consequence:

   We come to fight, and fighting vow to die,

   Or else to win the thing for which we came.

   Because Abdelmelec, as pitying us,

   Sends messages to councel quietness,

   You stand amazed, and think it sound advice,

   As if our enemy would wish us any good:

   No, let him know we scorn his courtesy,

   And will resist him his forces whatsoever.

   Cst fear aside: myself will lead the way,

   And make a passage with my conquering sword,

   Knee-deep in blood of these accused Moors;

   And they that love my honour, follow me.

   Were you as resolute as is your king,

   Alcazar walls should fall before your face,

   And all the force of this Barbarian lord

   Should be confounded, were it ten times more.

AVERO

   So well become these words a kingly mouth,

   That are of force to make a coward fight;

   But when advice and prudent forefight

   Is joined with such magnanimity,

   Trophiesof victory and kingly spoils

   Adorn his crown, his kingdom, and his fame.

 

[Enter CHRISTOPHERO DE TAVERA, DON MENYSIS, and HERCULES.]

 

HERCULES

   We have descried upon the mountain-tops

   A hugy company of invading Moors;

   And they, my lord, as thick as winter’s hail,

   Will fall upon our heads at unawares:

   Best,then, bestimes t’ avoid this gloomy storm;

   It is in vain to strive with such a stream.

 

 

Enter the MOOR, MULY MAHAMET.

 

THE MOOR

   Behold, thrice-noble lord, uncall’d I come

   To councel where necessity commands;

   And honour of undoubted victory

   Makes me exlaim upon this dastard flight.

   Why, King Sebastian, wilt thy hands?

   Say you do march unto Larissa now,

   The forces of the foe are come so nigh,

   That he will let the passage of the river;

   So unwares you will be forced to fight.

   But know, O king, and you, thrice_valiant lords,

   Few blows will serve. I ask but only this,

   That with your power you march into the field;

   For now is all the army resolute

   To leave the traitor helpless in the fight,

   And fly to me as to their rightful prince.

   Some horseman have already led the way,

   And vow the like for their companions:

   The host is full of tumult and of fear.

   Then as you come to plant me in my seat,

   And to enlarge your fame in Africa,

   Now, now or never, bravely execute

   Your resolution sound and honourable,

   And end this war together with his life,

   That doth usurp the crown with tyranny.

  SEBASTIAN

             Captains, you hear the reasons of the king,

             Which so effectually have pierced mine ears,

             That I am fuuly rsolute to fight;

             And who refuseth now to follow me,

             Let him be ever counted cowardly.

AVERO

             Shame be his share that flies when kings do fight!

             Avero lays his life before your feet.

 STUKELEY

 For my part, lords, I cannot sell my blood

 Dearer than in the company of kings.

                                                                      Exeunt.

     

           Manet the MOOR, MULY MAHAMET.

THE MOOR

             Now have I set these Portugals a_work

             To hew a wy for me unto the crown,

             Or with their weapons here to dig their graves.

             You bastards of the Night and Erebus,

             Fiends, Furies, hags that fight in beds of steel,

             Range though this army with your iron whips,

             Drive forward to this deed this Christian crew,

             And let me triumph in the tragedy,

             Though it be seal’d and honour’d with my blood,

             Both of the Portugal and barbarous Moor.

             Ride, Nemesis, ride in thy fierycart,

             And sprinkle gore amongst these men of war,

             That either party, eager of revenge,

             May honour thee with sacrifice of death;

             And having bathed thy chatiot_weels in blood,

             Decend and take to thy tormenting hell

             The  mangled body of that traitor_king,

             That scorns the power and force of portugal:

             Then let the earth discover to his ghost

             Such tortures as usuerpers feel below;

             Rack’d let him be in proud Ixion’s weel,

             Pined let him be with Tantalus’ endless  thirst,

             Prey let him be to Tityus’ greedy bird,

             Wearied with Sisyphus’ immortal toil:

             And lasty for revenge, for deep revenge,

            Whereof thou goddess and deviser art,

            Damn’d let him be, damn’d and condemned to bear

            All torments, tortures, plagues and pains of hell.

                                                                             Exit

 

                                                                   
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