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To do a sovereign justice to myself,
And spurn thee from my presence.
Dor. Thou hast dared

To tell me what I durst not tell myself:

I durst not think that I was spurned, and live;
Give me revenge, while I have breath to ask it.

Seb. Now by this honoured order which I wear,
More gladly would I give than thou dar'st ask it,
Nor shall the sacred character of king

Be urged to shield me from thy bold appeal.
If I have injured thee, that makes us equal:
The wrong, if done, debased me down to thee.
But thou hast charged me with ingratitude;
Hast thou not charged me? Speak.

Dor. Thou know'st I have :

If thou disown'st that imputation, draw,
And prove my charge a lie.

Seb. No; to disprove that lie I must not draw:
Be conscious to thy worth, and tell thy soul
What thou hast done this day in my defence:
To fight thee after this, what were it else
Than owning that ingratitude thou urgest?
That isthmus stands between two rushing seas;
Which, mounting, view each other from afar,
And strive in vain to meet.

Dor. I'll cut that isthmus:

Thou know'st I meant not to preserve thy life,
But to retrieve it, for my own revenge;

I saved thee out of honourable malice.

Now draw; I should be loth to think thou darest not:
Beware of such another vile excuse.

Seb. O patience, Heaven!

Dor. Beware of patience, too;

That's a suspicious word: it had been proper,

Before thy foot had spurned me; now 'tis base:
Yet, to disarm thee of thy last defence,

I have thy oath for my security:

The only boon I begged was this fair combat:

Fight, or be perjured now; that's all thy choice.

Seb. Now can I thank thee as thou would'st be thanked:

Never was vow of honour better paid

[Drawing.

Go; bear my message to Henriquez' ghost,

And say his master and his friend revenged him.
Dor. His ghost! then is my hated rival dead?

Seb. If it would please thee, thou shouldst never know;
But thou, like jealousy, inquir'st a truth,
Which found, will torture thee.

He died in fight:
Fought next my person, as in concert fought;
Kept pace for pace, and blow for every blow ;
Save when he heaved his shield in my defence,
And on his naked side received my wound:
Then, when he could no more, he fell at once,
But rolled his falling body cross their way,
And made a bulwark of it for his prince.

Dor. I never can forgive him such a death!
Seb. I prophesied thy proud soul could not bear it.
Now judge thyself, who best deserved my love?
I knew you both; and (durst I say) as Heaven
Foreknew among
the shining angel host
Who should stand firm, who fall-

Dor. Had he been tempted so, so had he fallen;
And so, had I been favoured, had I stood.

Seb. What had been, is unknown; what is, appears :

Confess he justly was preferred to thee.

Dor. O whither wouldst thou drive me? I must grant, Yes, I must grant, but with a swelling soul,

Henriquez had your love with more desert:

For you he fought and died: I fought against you:
Through all the mazes of the bloody field

Hunted your sacred life; which that I missed

Was the propitious error of my fate,

Not of my soul; my soul's a regicide.

Seb. Thou might'st have given it a more gentle name: Thou meant'st to kill a tyrant, not a king.

Speak, didst thou not, Alonzo?

Dor. Can I speak?

Alas! I cannot answer to Alonzo :
No: Dorax cannot answer to Alonzo.
Alonzo was too kind a name for me.

Then, when I fought, and conquered with your arms,
In that blest age I was the man you

named

Till rage and pride debased me into Dorax;

:

And lost like Lucifer, my name above.

Seb. Yet twice this day I ow'd my life to Dorax.

Dor. I saved you but to kill you: there's my grief. Seb. Nay, if thou canst be grieved, thou canst repent : Thou couldst not be a villain, though thou wouldst: Thou ownst too much in owning thou hast erred: And I too little, who provoked thy crime.

Dor. O stop this headlong torrent of your goodness; It comes too fast upon a feeble soul,

Half drowned in tears before; spare my confusion,
For pity spare, and say not, first you erred.

[Kneels.

For yet I have not dared, through guilt and shame,
To throw myself beneath your royal feet.
Now spurn this rebel, this proud renegade ;
'Tis just you should, nor will I more complain.
Seb. Indeed thou should'st not ask forgiveness first,
[Raises him up.
But thou prevent'st me still in all that's noble.
Thou canst not speak, and I can ne'er be silent.
Some strange reverse of fate must sure attend
This vast profusion, this extravagance

Of heaven to bless me thus. "Tis gold so pure,
It cannot bear the stamp without allay.
Be kind, ye powers, and take but half away :
With ease the gifts of fortune I resign
But let my love and friend be ever mine.

:

DRYDEN.

SIR EDWARD MORTIMER AND WILFORD.
THE IRON CHEST.

Sir E. Wilford, is no one in the picture-gallery?
Wil. No not a soul, sir-not a human soul;
None within hearing if I were to bawl

Ever so loud.

Sir E. Wilford, approach me.—What am I to say For aiming at your life? Do you not scorn me, Despise me for it?

Wil. I-Oh, sir

Sir E. You must;

For I am singled from the herd of men,

A vile heart-broken wretch !

Wi. Indeed, indeed, sir,

You deeply wrong yourself.-Your equal's love,
The poor man's prayer, the orphan's tear of gratitude,
All follow you; and I-I owe you all,—

I am most bound to bless you!

Sir E. Mark me, Wilford.

I know the value of the orphan's tear,

The poor man's prayer, respect from the respected;
I feel to merit these, and to obtain them,

Is to taste here below that thrilling cordial,
Which the remunerating angel draws
From the eternal fountain of delight,
To pour on blessèd souls that enter heaven.
I feel this-I! How must my nature, then,
Revolt at him who seeks to stain his hand
In human blood? And yet, it seems, this day
I sought your life. Oh, I have suffered madness!
None know my tortures-pangs; but I can end them,—
End them as far as appertains to thee.

I have resolved it: fearful struggles tear me;

But I have pondered on't, and I must trust thee.

Wil. Your confidence shall not be

Sir E. You must swear.

Wil. Swear, sir! Will nothing but an oath, thenSir E. No retreating.

Wil. [After a pause.] I swear, by all the ties that bind

a man,

Divine or human, never to divulge !

Sir E. Remember, you have sought this secret,—yes, Extorted it. I have not thrust it on you.

Tis big with danger to you; and to me,

While I prepare to speak, torment unutterable.
Know, Wilford, that-

Wil. Dearest sir,

Collect yourself; this shakes you horribly.

You had this trembling, it is scarce a week,

At Madam Helen's.

Sir E. There it is. Her uncle

Wil. Her uncle !

Sir E. Him-She knows it not,-none know it: You are the first ordained to hear me say,

I am-his murderer!

Wil. Oh, heaven!

Sir E. His assassin!

Wil. What! You that-mur-the murder-I am choked! Sir E. Honour-thou blood-stained god! at whose red altar

Sit war and homicide, oh! to what madness

Will insult drive thy votaries! By Heaven!

In the world's range there does not breathe a man,
Whose brutal nature I more strove to soothe,
With long forbearance, kindness, courtesy,
Than his who fell by me.-But he disgraced me,

Stained me!-Oh, death and shame! the world looked on
And saw this sinewy savage strike me down;
Rain blows upon me, drag me to and fro
On the base earth, like carrion.-Desperation,
In every fibre of my frame, cried Vengeance!
I left the room which he had quitted. Chance
(Curse on the chance!) while boiling with my wrongs,
Thrust me against him, darkling, in the street.-
I stabbed him to the heart; and my oppressor
Rolled lifeless at my foot!

Wil. Oh, mercy on me!

How could this deed be covered?

Sir E. Would you think it?

E'en at the moment when I gave the blow,
Butchered a fellow-creature in the dark,
I had all good men's love.-But my disgrace,
And my opponent's death thus linked with it,
Demanded notice of the magistracy.

They summoned me, as friend would summon friend,
To acts of import and communication.—

We met; and 'twas resolved, to stifle rumour,

To put me on my trial. No accuser,

No evidence appeared, to urge it on;

Twas meant to clear my fame. How clear it, then?
How cover it? you say.-Why, by a lie,—

Guilt's offspring and its guard! I taught this breast,
Which truth once made her throne, to forge a lie,-
This tongue to utter it; rounded a tale,

Smooth as a Seraph's song from Satan's mouth;

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