_Men_. Yes, witness his Habit which he still retains In scorn to ours-- His Principles are too as unalterable. _Abd_. Is that the only Argument you bring? I tell thee, Cardinal, not thy Holy Gown Covers a Soul more sanctify’d than this Moorish Robe. _Phil_. Damn his Religion--he has a thousand Crimes That will yet better justify your Sentence. _Men_. Come not within the Court; for if you do, Worse mischief shall ensue--you have your Sentence. [_Ex_. Phil, _and_ Men. _Alon_. My Brother banish’d! ‘tis very sudden; For thy sake, Sister, this must be recall’d. [_To_ Flor. _Qu. Alonzo_, join with me, I’ll to the King, And check the Pride of this insulting Cardinal. [_Exeunt all, except_ Abdelazer, Florella. _Abd_. Banish’d! if I digest this Gall, May Cowards pluck the Wreath from off my Brow, Which I have purchas’d with so many Wounds, And all for Spain; for _Spain_! ingrateful _Spain_!-- Oh, my _Florella_, all my Glory’s vanish’d, The Cardinal (Oh damn him) wou’d have me banish’d. _Flor_. But, Sir, I hope you will not tamely go. _Abd_. Tamely!--ha, ha, ha,--yes, by all means-- A very honest and religious Cardinal! _Flor_. I wou’d not for the World you should be banish’d. _Abd_. Not Spain, you mean--for then she leaves the King. [_Aside_. What if I be?--Fools! not to know--All parts o’ th’ World Allow enough for Villany; for I’ll be brave no more. It is a Crime--and then I can live any where-- But say I go from hence--I leave behind me A Cardinal that will laugh--I leave behind me A _Philip_ that will clap his Hands in sport-- But the worst Wound is this, I leave my Wrongs, Dishonours, and my Discontents, all unreveng’d-- Leave me, _Florella_--prithee do not weep; I love thee, love thee wondrously--go leave me-- I am not now at leisure to be fond-- Go to your Chamber--go. _Flor_. No, to the King I’ll fly, And beg him to revenge thy Infamy. [_Ex_. Flor. _To him_ Alonzo. _Alon_. The Cardinal’s mad to have thee banish’d Spain. I’ve left the Queen in angry Contradiction, But yet I fear the Cardinal’s Reasoning. _Abd_. This Prince’s Hate proceeds from Love, He’s jealous of the Queen, and fears my Power. [_Aside_. _Alon_. Come, rouse thy wonted Spirits, awake thy Soul, And arm thy Justice with a brave Revenge. _Abd_. I’ll arm no Justice with a brave Revenge. [_Sullenly_. _Alon_. Shall they then triumph o’er thee, who were once Proud to attend thy conqu’ring Chariot-Wheels? _Abd_. I care not--I am a Dog, and can bear wrongs. _Alon_. But, Sir, my Honour is concern’d with yours, Since my lov’d Sister did become your Wife; And if yours suffer, mine too is unsafe. _Abd_. I cannot help it-- _Alon_. What Ice has chill’d thy Blood? This Patience was not wont to dwell with thee.