_Ruy-Gom._ Thus unaccompanied I subtly range The solitary paths of dark revenge: The fearful deer in herds to coverts run, While beasts of prey affect to roam alone. _D. of Eboli._ Ah! my dear lord, how do you spend your hours? You little think what my poor heart endures; Whilst, with your absence tortured, I in vain Pant after joys I ne'er can hope to gain. _Ruy-Gom._ You cannot my unkindness sure upbraid; You should forgive those faults yourself have made. Remember you the task you gave? _D. of Eboli._ 'Tis true; Your pardon, for I do remember now. [_Sighs._ If I forgot, 'twas love had all my mind; And 'tis no sin, I hope, to be too kind. _Ruy-Gom._ How happy am I in a faithful wife! O thou most precious blessing of my life! _D. of Eboli._ Does then success attend upon your toil? I long to see you revel in the spoil. _Ruy-Gom._ What strictest diligence could do, I've done, To incense an angry father 'gainst his son. I to advantage told him all that's past, Described with art each amorous glance they cast: So that this night he shunned the marriage-bed, Which through the court has various murmurs spread. _Enter the_ KING, _attended by the_ Marquis of POSA. See where he comes with fury in his eyes: Kind Heaven, but grant the storm may higher rise! If't grow too loud, I'll lurk in some dark cell, And laugh to hear my magic work so well. _King._ What's all my glory, all my pomp? how poor Is fading greatness! or how vain is power! Where all the mighty conquests I have seen? I, who o'er nations have victorious been, Now cannot quell one little foe within. Cursed jealousy, that poisons all love's sweets! How heavy on my heart the invader sits! O Gomez, thou hast given my mortal wound. _Ruy-Gom._ What is't does so your royal thoughts confound? A king his power unbounded ought to have, And, ruling all, should not be passion's slave. _King._ Thou counsell'st well, but art no stranger sure To the sad cause of what I now endure. Know'st thou what poison thou didst lately give, And dost not wonder to behold me live? _Ruy-Gom._ I only did as by my duty tied, And never studied any thing beside. _King._ I do not blame thy duty or thy care: Quickly, what passed between them more, declare. How greedily my soul to ruin flies! As he who in a fever burning lies First of his friends does for a drop implore, Which tasted once, unable to give o'er, Knows 'tis his bane, yet still thirsts after more. Oh, then-- _Ruy-Gom._ I fear that you'll interpret wrong; Tis true, they gazed, but 'twas not very long. _King._ Lie still, my heart! Not long, was't that you said? _Ruy-Gom._ No longer than they in your presence stayed.