_Phil_. I’ll stop you on your way--lie there--your Tongue [_Kills him_. Shall tell no Tales to day--Now, Cardinal--but hold, I scorn to strike thee whilst thou art unarm’d, Yet so thou didst to me; For which I have not leisure now to kill thee. --Here, take thy Liberty;--nay, do not thank me; By Heaven, I do not mean it as a Grace. _Osm_. My Lord, take this-- [_To_ Alon. _and the_ Card. And this--to arm your Highness. _Alon_. Thou dost amaze me! _Osm_. Keep in your Wonder with your Doubts, my Lord. _Phil_. We cannot doubt, whilst we’re thus fortify’d-- [_Looks on his Sword_. Come, _Osmin_, let us fall upon the Guards. _Osm_. There are no Guards, great Sir, but what are yours; And see--your Friends I’ve brought to serve ye too. [_Opens a back Door. _Enter_ Leonora _and Women_, Ordonio, Sebastian, Antonio, _etc_. _Phil_. My dearest Sister safe! _Leon_. Whilst in your Presence, Sir, and you thus arm’d. _Osm_. The Moor approaches,--now be ready all. _Phil_. That Name I never heard with Joy till now; Let him come on, and arm’d with all his Powers, Thus singly I defy him. [_Draws_. _Enter_ Abdelazer. [Osmin _secures the Doors_. _Abd_. Hah! betray’d! and by my Slaves! by _Osmin_ too! _Phil_. Now, thou damn’d Villain! true-born Soul of Hell! Not one of thy infernal Kin shall save thee. _Abd_. Base Coward Prince! Whom the admiring World mistakes for Brave; When all thy boasted Valour, fierce and hot As was thy Mother in her height of Lust, Can with the aid of all these--treacherous Swords, Take but a single Life; but such a Life, As amongst all their Store the envying Gods Have not another such to breathe in Man. _Phil_. Vaunt on, thou monstrous Instrument of Hell! For I’m so pleas’d to have thee in my Power, That I can hear thee number up thy Sins, And yet be calm, whilst thou art near Damnation. _Abd_. Thou ly’st, thou canst not keep thy Temper in; For hadst thou so much Bravery of Mind, Thou’dst fight me singly; which thou dar’st not do. _Phil_. Not dare! By Heaven, if thou wert twenty Villains more, And I had all thy Weight of Sins about me, I durst thus venture on;--forbear, _Alonzo_. _Alon_. I will not, Sir. _Phil_. I was indeed too rash; ‘tis such a Villain, As shou’d receive his Death from nought but Slaves. _Abd_. Thou’st Reason, Prince! nor can they wound my Body More than I’ve done thy Fame; for my first step To my Revenge, I whor’d the Queen thy Mother. _Phil_. Death! though this I knew before, yet the hard Word Runs harshly thro my Heart;-- If thou hadst murder’d fifty Royal _Ferdinands_, And with inglorious Chains as many Years Had loaded all my Limbs, ‘t had been more pardonable Than this eternal Stain upon my Name: --Oh, thou hast breath’d thy worst of Venom now. _Abd_. My next advance was poisoning of thy Father.