_Seb._ Then only hear her eyes! Though they are mute, they plead; nay, more, command; For beauteous eyes have arbitrary power. All females have prerogative of sex; The she's even of the savage herd are safe; And when they snarl or bite, have no return But courtship from the male. _Emp._ Were she not she, and I not Muley-Moluch, She's mistress of inevitable charms, For all but me; nor am I so exempt, But that--I know not what I was to say-- But I am too obnoxious to my friends, And swayed by your advice. _Seb._ Sir, I advised not; By heaven, I never counselled love, but pity. _Emp._ By heaven thou didst; deny it not, thou didst: For what was all that prodigality Of praise, but to inflame me? _Seb._ Sir-- _Emp._ No more; Thou hast convinced me that she's worth my love. _Seb._ Was ever man so ruined by himself? [_Aside._ _Alm._ Thy love! That odious mouth was never framed To speak a word so soft: Name death again, for that thou canst pronounce With horrid grace, becoming of a tyrant. Love is for human hearts, and not for thine, Where the brute beast extinguishes the man. _Emp._ Such if I were, yet rugged lions love, And grapple, and compel their savage dames.-- Mark my Sebastian, how that sullen frown, [_She frowns._ Like flashing lightning, opens angry heaven, And, while it kills, delights!--But yet, insult not Too soon, proud beauty! I confess no love. _Seb._ No, sir; I said so, and I witness for you, Not love, but noble pity, moved your mind: Interest might urge you too to save her life; For those, who wish her party lost, might murmur At shedding royal blood. _Emp._ Right, thou instruct'st me; Interest of state requires not death, but marriage, To unite the jarring titles of our line. _Seb._ Let me be dumb for ever; all I plead, [_Aside._ Like wildfire thrown against the winds, returns With double force to burn me. _Emp._ Could I but bend, to make my beauteous foe The partner of my throne, and of my bed-- _Alm._ Still thou dissemblest; but, I read thy heart, And know the power of my own charms; thou lov'st, And I am pleased, for my revenge, thou dost. _Emp._ And thou hast cause. _Alm._ I have, for I have power to make thee wretched. Be sure I will, and yet despair of freedom. _Emp._ Well then, I love; And 'tis below my greatness to disown it; Love thee implacably, yet hate thee too; Would hunt thee barefoot, in the mid-day sun, Through the parched desarts and the scorching sands, To enjoy thy love, and, once enjoyed, to kill thee. _Alm._ 'Tis a false courage, when thou threaten'st me; Thou canst not stir a hand to touch my life: Do not I see thee tremble, while thou speak'st? Lay by the lion's hide, vain conqueror, And take the distaff; for thy soul's my slave. _Emp._ Confusion! How thou view'st my very heart! I could as soon Stop a spring-tide, blown in, with my bare hand, As this impetuous love:--Yes, I will wed thee; In spite of thee, and of myself, I will.