_Alm._ Look, tyrant, when thou nam'st Sebastian's death, Thy very executioners turn pale. Rough as they are, and hardened in their trade Of death, they start at an anointed head, And tremble to approach.--He hears me not, Nor minds the impression of a god on kings; Because no stamp of heaven was on his soul, But the resisting mass drove back the seal.-- Say, though thy heart be rock of adamant, Yet rocks are not impregnable to bribes: Instruct me how to bribe thee; name thy price; Lo, I resign my title to the crown; Send me to exile with the man I love, And banishment is empire. _Emp._ Here's my claim, [_Clapping his Hand to his Sword._ And this extinguished thine; thou giv'st me nothing. _Alm._ My father's, mother's, brother's death, I pardon; That's somewhat sure; a mighty sum of murder, Of innocent and kindred blood struck off. My prayers and penance shall discount for these, And beg of heaven to charge the bill on me: Behold what price I offer, and how dear, To buy Sebastian's life! _Emp._ Let after-reckonings trouble fearful fools; I'll stand the trial of those trivial crimes: But, since thou begg'st me to prescribe my terms, The only I can offer are thy love, And this one day of respite to resolve. Grant, or deny; for thy next word is fate, And fate is deaf to prayer. _Alm._ May heaven be so, [_Rising up._ At thy last breath, to thine! I curse thee not; For, who can better curse the plague, or devil, Than to be what they are? That curse be thine.-- Now, do not speak, Sebastian, for you need not; But die, for I resign your life.--Look, heaven, Almeyda dooms her dear Sebastian's death! But is there heaven? for I begin to doubt; The skies are hushed, no grumbling thunders roll.-- Now take your swing, ye impious; sin unpunished; Eternal Providence seems overwatched, And with a slumbering nod assents to murder. _Enter_ DORAX, _attended by three Soldiers._ _Emp._ Thou mov'st a tortoise-pace to my relief. Take hence that once a king; that sullen pride, That swells to dumbness: lay him in the dungeon, And sink him deep with irons, that, when he would, He shall not groan to hearing; when I send, The next commands are death. _Alm._ Then prayers are vain as curses. _Emp._ Much at one In a slave's mouth, against a monarch's power. This day thou hast to think; At night, if thou wilt curse, thou shalt curse kindly; Then I'll provoke thy lips, lay siege so close, That all thy sallying breath shall turn to blessings.-- Make haste, seize, force her, bear her hence.