_Phil_. My Father poison’d! and by thee, thou Dog! Oh, that thou hadst a thousand Lives to lose, Or that the World depended on thy single one, That I might make a Victim Worthy to offer up to his wrong’d Ghost.-- But stay, there’s something of thy Count of Sins untold, That I must know; not that I doubt, by Heaven, That I am _Philip’s_ Son-- _Abd_. Not for thy Ease, but to declare my Malice, Know, Prince, I made thy amorous Mother Proclaim thee Bastard, when I miss’d of killing rhee. _Phil_. Gods! let me contain my Rage! _Abd_. I made her too betray the credulous Cardinal, And having then no farther use of her, Satiated with her Lust, I set _Roderigo_ on to murder her. Thy Death had next succeeded; and thy Crown I wou’d have laid at _Leonora’s_ Feet. _Alon_. How! durst you love the Princess? _Abd_. Fool, durst! had I been born a Slave, I durst with this same Soul do any thing: Yes, and the last Sense that will remain about me, Will be my Passion for that charming Maid, Whom I’d enjoy’d e’er now, but for thy Treachery. [_To_ Osmin. _Phil_. Deflour’d my Sister! Heaven punish me eternally, If thou out-liv’st the Minute thou’st declar’d it. _Abd_. I will, in spite of all that thou canst do. --Stand off, fool-hardy Youth, if thou’dst be safe, And do not draw thy certain Ruin on, Or think that e’er this Hand was arm’d in vain. _Phil_. Poor angry Slave, how I contemn thee now! _Abd_. As humble Huntsmen do the generous Lion; Now thou darst see me lash my Sides, and roar, And bite my Snare in vain; who with one Look (Had I been free) hadst shrunk into the Earth, For shelter from my Rage: And like that noble Beast, though thus betray’d, I’ve yet an awful Fierceness in my Looks, Which makes thee fear t’approach; and ‘tis at distance That thou dar’st kill me; for come but in my reach, And with one Grasp I wou’d confound thy Hopes. _Phil_. I’ll let thee see how vain thy Boastings are, And unassisted, by one single Rage, Thus--make an easy Passage to thy Heart. [_Runs on him, all the rest do the like in the same Minute_. Abd. _aims at the_ Prince, _and kills_ Osmin, _and falls dead himself_. --Die with thy Sins unpardon’d, and forgotten-- [_Shout within_. _Alon_. Great Sir, your Throne and Kingdom want you now; Your People rude with Joy, do fill each Street, And long to see their King--whom Heaven preserve. _All_. Long live _Philip_, King of _Spain_-- _Phil_. I thank ye all;--and now, my dear _Alonzo_, Receive the Recompence of all thy Sufferings, Whilst I create thee Duke of _Salamancha_. _Alon_. Thus low I take the Bounty from your Hands. [_Kneels_. _Leon_. Rise, Sir, my Brother now has made us equal.