_Dor._ Too well I know thee, but for king no more. This is not Lisbon; nor the circle this, Where, like a statue, thou hast stood besieged By sycophants and fools, the growth of courts; Where thy gulled eyes, in all the gaudy round, Met nothing but a lie in every face, And the gross flattery of a gaping crowd, Envious who first should catch, and first applaud, The stuff of royal nonsense: When I spoke, My honest homely words were carped and censured For want of courtly style; related actions, Though modestly reported, passed for boasts; Secure of merit if I asked reward, Thy hungry minions thought their rights invaded, And the bread snatched from pimps and parasites. Henriquez answered, with a ready lie, To save his king's,--the boon was begged before! _Seb._ What say'st thou of Henriquez? Now, by heaven, Thou mov'st me more by barely naming him, Than all thy foul unmannered scurril taunts. _Dor._ And therefore 'twas, to gall thee, that I named him. That thing, that nothing, but a cringe and smile; That woman, but more daubed; or, if a man, Corrupted to a woman; thy man-mistress. _Seb._ All false as hell, or thou. _Dor._ Yes; full as false As that I served thee fifteen hard campaigns, And pitched thy standard in these foreign fields: By me thy greatness grew, thy years grew with it, But thy ingratitude outgrew them both. _Seb._ I see to what thou tend'st: but, tell me first, If those great acts were done alone for me? If love produced not some, and pride the rest? _Dor._ Why, love does all that's noble here below; But all the advantage of that love was thine. For, coming fraughted back, in either hand With palm and olive, victory and peace, I was indeed prepared to ask my own, (For Violante's vows were mine before:) Thy malice had prevention, ere I spoke; And asked me Violante for Henriquez. _Seb._ I meant thee a reward of greater worth. _Dor._ Where justice wanted, could reward be hoped? Could the robbed passenger expect a bounty From those rapacious hands, who stripped him first? _Seb._ He had my promise, ere I knew thy love. _Dor._ My services deserved thou shouldst revoke it. _Seb._ Thy insolence had cancelled all thy service: To violate my laws, even in my court, Sacred to peace, and safe from all affronts; Even to my face, and done in my despite, Under the wing of awful majesty, To strike the man I loved! _Dor._ Even in the face of heaven, a place more sacred, Would I have struck the man, who, prompt by power, Would seize my right, and rob me of my love: But, for a blow provoked by thy injustice, The hasty product of a just despair, When he refused to meet me in the field, That thou shouldst make a coward's cause thy own! _Seb._ He durst; nay more, desired, and begged with tears, To meet thy challenge fairly: 'Twas thy fault To make it public; but my duty, then, To interpose, on pain of my displeasure, Betwixt your swords. _Dor._ On pain of infamy, He should have disobeyed.