My mother cursed! She was all just and good, Tyrant! too good to stay with thee below, And therefore's blest, and reigns above thee now. Submission! which way got it entrance here? _King._ Perhaps it came ere treason was aware. Thy traitorous design's now come to light, Too great and horrid to be hid in night. See here my honour, and thy duty's stains! [_Shows the despatches._ I've paid your secretary for his pains; He waits you there: to council with him go; [_Shows_ POSA'S _body_. Ask what intelligence from Flanders now. _Don Car._ My friend here slain, my faithful Posa 'tis. Good Heaven! what have I done to merit this? What temples sacked, what desolations made, To pull down such a vengeance on my head? This, villain, was thy work: what friend of thine [_To_ RUY-GOMEZ. Did I e'er wrong, that thou shouldst murder mine? But I'll take care it shall not want reward--[_Draws._ _King._ Courage, my Gomez, since thy king's thy guard. Come, rebel, and thy villanies fulfil! _Don Car_. No; though unjust, you are my father still; [_Throws away his sword._ And from that title must your safety own: 'Tis that which awes my hand, and not your crown. 'Tis true, all there contained I had designed: To such a height your jealousy was grown, It was the only way that I could find To work your peace, and to procure my own. _King._ Thinking my youth and vigour to decrease, You'd ease me of my crown to give me peace. _Don Car._ Alas! you fetch your misconstructions far: The injuries to me, and wrongs to her, Were much too great for empire to repair. When you forgot a father's love, and quite Deprived me of a son's and prince's right, Branded my honour, and pursued my life, My duty long with nature was at strife. Not that I feared my memory or name Could suffer by the voice of common fame; A thing I still esteemed beneath my pride: For, though condemned by all the world beside, Had you but thought me just, I could have died. At last this only way I found, to fly Your anger, and divert your jealousy:-- To go to Flanders, and be so removed From all I ever honoured, ever loved; There in your right hoping I might complete, Spite of my wrongs, some action truly great; Thus by my faith and sufferings to out-wear Your hate, and shun that storm which threatened here. _Queen._ And can this merit hate? He would forego The joys and charms of courts to purchase you; Banish himself, and stem the dangerous tide Of lawless outrage and rebellious pride.