_Alph._ I implore it; And, prostrate, beg your pardon and your grace. I have offended in my proud behaviour; But make Victoria mine, and what your son In duty wanted, by your son-in-law Shall doubly be supplied. _Xim._ What would you more? _Vera._ [_To her._] Are you the mediatrix of this peace? _Xim._ It well becomes the softness of my sex To mediate for sweet peace, the best of blessings; And, like a Sabine wife, to run betwixt Relations' lifted swords. _Ver._ A rare chaste Sabine, you! To save the adulterer of thy husband's bed. See there, Alphonso's father, that old goat, Who on two sisters propagated lust, And got two children, for himself and me. Suppose thee chaste,--a favourable guess To any of thy sex,--these are my foes; [_To_ RAMIREZ.] Thou first, the former sharer of my sheets, A king without a kingdom; Thine is conquered, And Garcia with Victoria shall enjoy it. _Ram._ So monstrously you wrong your wife and me-- _Vera._ No more, my will is law. _Ram._ So tyrants say. _Vera._ I will not hear thee speak.--Conduct him hence, And stow him in the dungeon's depth with toads. [_The Guards carry off_ RAMIREZ. [_To_ ALPH.] For thee, the worthy son of such a father-- [_Walks by himself._ _Xim._ [_To_ ALPH.] 'Tis desperate now; and I, with ill-timed zeal, Have hastened your destruction. _Alph._ [_To her._] You have saved me. _Vera._ [_Aside._] Say I should put the ungrateful wretch to death;-- He's thought my son, and, whilst so thought, 'tis dangerous To imprison him; the people might rebel. He's popular, and I am ill beloved.-- Then banish him;--that's best, but yet unsafe: He may with foreign aid reconquer all.-- I'll venture that, with Garcia to my friend; He shall recall his troops, mine are at hand, And ready prest for service. [_He comes to_ ALPH. _and_ XIMENA. _Xim._ Now the storm. _Vera._ [_To_ ALPH.] Thy doom's resolved; too gentle for thy crimes. I spare thy life, depart to banishment; To-morrow leave the realm, this day the town, And, like the scape-goat driven into the desart, Bear all ill omens with thee. _Alph._ Proud of my exile, with erected face, I leave your court, your town, and your dominions. Pleased that I love at least without a crime. Lighter by what I lost, I tread in air, Unhappy, but triumphant in despair. [_Exit_ ALPHONSO.